NARBONVS.

THere dwelt neare the Cittie of Vienna, a Gentleman, named Narbonus: of perso­nage beautiful, and in behauiour bountiful: in substance, not superiour to any: yet [...] wit, inferiour to many: in goodnes, grate­full: and to his power, beneficiall: He had left him, by th [...] death of his father, some small possessions, & a litle land [...] to maintain his calling: wherwith, had hée bene so wisely disposed, as hée was wantonly delighted, hée might haue bragged with the best, and accompanied the greatest: and had his wit bene so well imployed, as his will was euely occupied, hée had néeded no counsailer for his commodity, nor any schoolemaister for his humanitie: But as he was younge, so was he wilde: and as he was wealthy, so was hée disposed pleasantly: as hée was ritche, so was hée ryo­tous: and yet as hée was wanton, so was hée curteous. But wit is neuer good before it be bought, & youth neuer brydled before hée haue bidden the brunt: and as the ten­der twigge will easely be bowed, where the olde trée wil not by any [...]eanes be bente: as the yonge Coult will be reclaymed with a snaffle, when the olde Iade will neuer be manaced with any brydle: as the yonge Fawne will be made take bread at a mans hand, when the old Bucke will not by any meanes looke vpon a man: so as yet this Impe was to bée grafted to beare the first fruit, and now began the spring when it should yéeld the brauest blossom: now was the sap come into the hart, and now such séede as was sowen, such fruit should be found: such as was the plant, such would prooue the peare: how the ground was tilled, such fruit would come from it: and as the fertillest fields not wel husbanded, will yéelde the thickest thistles, [Page 2] so contrary, wrought as it should bée, giueth greatest en­crease of corne: the more perfect memory in any man, the apter to delight in vile vice, which once reclaimed to ho­nesty, the one blotted out, great goodnes quickly insueth: who then Paule a greater persecutor? who then hée a more godly professour? Samuell first called by God, after cho­sen his Chaplaine: Caesar first a slauish Souldiour, after, a great and valiaunt Conquerour: as the yeares doo en­crease, so should a mans goodnes grow, and as strength entereth into a mans armes, so should wisedome enter into the braynes: Why doth a man grow in greatnesse, but that also hée should waxe in goodnes? this youth was acquainted with many vices the which hée accustomed, and nozled in some vertues which he not greatly frequented, some of his blossoms were blasted, and some séedes prospered perfectly: some of his vertues were bitten with [...]rost, which made no shew til they came to the ripenesse: but then flourished fresh and gréen [...]: other of his plantes prospered wel, and made a goodly shew on so perfect a trée as nature her selfe saw the growth therof: The Riuer Nilus ingendreth the foule Crocadile, and castes vp the precious perles: the filthy Toade hath a faire stone in hir heade: the Serpents skin is very medicinable for sundry things, where contrary, the Bée hath Hony in her mouth and a sting in her tayle: the swetest rose hath some pricke, the clearest Well, some dyrte in the bottom: so the most deformed man may haue some good condicion, the vylest nature some good imaginacion: the greatest pretended mischiefe, some spot of mercy: the stinging Netle is salue for some sore: the poysoned Hemlocke retayneth some vertue, and the Poppy séede is excellente good for many thinges: but the purest perfection may haue some spot of suspicion, the clearest complexion some fault of fauour, the best wit stayned with some diuelish deuice: Narbonus was neither voyd of humility, nor ouerladen with amity: not troubled with more honestly then he néeded to occupy: nor charged with more goodnes then his body could carry, [Page 3] nor filled with more feruencie then his stomacke could digest: yet his condicions not to bee blamed, nor his vn­constancy any wayes reproued: beeing in the Countrey hee wanted no companions to court him, and spending [...] his time so lewdly, lacked no Louers to entice him to fol­ly: and though the rusticall Countrey be not so stuffed out with swa [...]hers, as the Cittie is fortified with swearers, yet their fruite is often eaten with Caterpillers, & more full fraughted then néedeth with flatterers: not so full of good nurture, as infected with vile nature: better fed then taught, and better manned then mannered: This curte­ous crue that followed his humor, enticed him sumtimes to follow the houndes, then to flye with the Hawke: now to rowse the bristlinge Boare from out his drowsie den, & then to haue the bouncing Bucke in chase: sometimes to vse the Tilte yardes, and then againe to exercise their weapons, here was neyther practised Geomitry, nor stu­died Philosophy: neither Musicke vsed, nor Diuinity lo­ued: nothinge seene in Arithmeticke, and as litle know­ledge in Astrology: neyther the Law lyked, nor so much as a booke looked on: but all began to goe to wracke, and euery good motion no sooner thought on, but as speedily forgotten. Hee had dwellinge in Vienna an Unckle of great estimacion, and his credite no lesse thē hée deserued, for hee was beloued of his Neighbours, and fauoured of his fréendes, commended of his acquaintance, and honou­red of those that knew him, lyked of the most, and hated but of few: for wisedome, hee was furnished to serue his turne, and his wit any way merited no blame: for his substance sufficient to satisfie his estate, and his goods so many as suffised his callinge: for his courtesie he wanted no instructor, and for good entertainement: to few inferi­our: and for that hée was without any Sonne, and vnlike­ly euer to haue a Daughter: neuer a childe by nature, nor any kinsman to his knowledge except his Nephew: Hee therfore behouldinge the life that hee led, and the folly hée folowed, the litle gouernment hee had of his lyuing, and [Page 4] as small regarde to employ it the best way: not regarding any study, and caringe not whither euer he tumbled ouer his Bookes, or neuer looked on them againe: but apt to follow any wilfulnesse, and not regardinge to apply any goodnesse: waying more the pleasure of his companions, then the furtheraunce of his owne felicity: and an yuche of pastime, was woorth an ell of profite. His Unckle therfore on a time sente for him to Vienna, the messenger certefiyng him of great businesse, who willingly condis­cended to awayte on his good Unckle, glad to bee at the commaunde of his fauourable freendshippe: and in deede repaired accordinge to promise, vnwillinge to displease him whom aboue all others hee fauoured: but well con­tented to heare the cause of his sending for. Where no sooner come, but entertained as courteously as him felfe desired: where after a fewe matters of course, and com­mon thinges of custome: the good man his Unckle vt­tered the occasion of his sendinge for, and wherfore hee was cyted to arriue at his house, by these wordes follow­inge.

Nephew Narbonus, the longest Sommers day hath but his limited time of common course & then the Sunne draweth towardes the westerne Mountaynes, cleane from our sight, and wee enioy the vncomfortable night againe: the weary winters night lasteth but the appoyn­ted time, and wee beholde the ioyfull dawning as before: the pleasaunt springe sweetly beginneth, and flyeth againe like a shadow: the wallowinge Waues hauinge attained their highest, retire to their former place as be­fore: the grene Grasse once growen to the ful perfection, withereth to nothing but earth, as at the first: The grea­test Monarche that euer liued, ranne but his race, and so his name grew againe to nothinge, hauinge the time of his death appointed as well as other men: The happiest felicity hath some fall, & the greatest goodnes some dram not very dainty: the fruitfullest trees are not free from some Caterpillers, & the most fortunate Weale wrought [Page 5] with some woe: and how longe doth this tickle state in­dure, or this fluttinge fortune remaine, when Empires are subuerted, & Kingdomes ouerthrowne: when Duke­domes goe to wracke, and Princes pine in pouerty: when the ritchest fall to decaye, and the prowdest stoupe to the yoake of fortune: who will reioyce in his welfare, and trust the vncertainty of his time? who therfore can think hée sayleth safely, that is alwayes in danger of the rocks? who can imagine hee trauaileth surely, that is alwayes amongst theeues? who is safe in warfare, whither he flie or follow, the greatest certainty is not sure, and the best vncertainty vnstedfast? Who so prowde as Lucifer, who sooner throwne downe into Hell? who so highe minded as Nabuchodonozer, but who so changed from so mighty a Prince to a brute Beast? who so wicked as Ahab, who more seuerely punished: the strongest cannot boste of his happinesse, nor the mightiest crake of the length of his life: the prowdest cannot brag of his tiranny, nor the ry­chest reioyce that hée liued euer the longer: the greatest that euer liued hath felt the force of fortune, & the highest hath beene made to stoupe: though Cacus were a Gyant, yet was Hercules stronger: and though Goliah were high, yet was hée made shorter by the head: and if Samson were the stowtest that euer liued, yet met hée with his match: if not by strength, yet by pollicie: if not by might, yet by slight: if not by greatnes of bodye, yet by the sleightes of subtill deuices. Vlisses was valiaunt, yet won to be a seruile subiecte: Achilles was gallaunt, yet met hee with his péeres: though Lemnon were feared, yet was hée van­quished. Alas, the most fortunate is but fickle, and the gre­test subiecte to slauery: thraldome hath happened to the noblest, and bondage to the brauest: the yoake hath beene layde on the neckes of Princes, and Emperours, led in cheines of Iron: the greatest goodnes that a man gaineth in this lustly life, is the same that followeth by learning, and the only honour we should hunt after: then the which what is there greater? then the which, what is there [Page 6] more pro [...]table [...] then the which, what is there more esti­mable? then the which, what is there more commendable in all ages? then the which, what one thinge is there that lasteth after life? And how is vertue attained? or by what meanes is wisedome found out? from whence commeth the knowledge of all prowesse? and how doo Kings learne to beare swaye? is it not the ground of all goodnesse, and the only hope of all happines? Vi [...]it post funera virtus: and what can a man name y ^e lasteth after death, or what memoriall is there made of any thinge whatsoeuer, after our departure? do riches indure after death, because they abound in life? no trust mee: euery good thinge taketh the originall from thence, and as it hath a beginning, so shall it neuer haue ende: who commendeth not the Bookes of Cicero, before the wealth of Cressus? and the wisedome of Solomon, before y ^e strength of Sampson? the sweet wordes of Tullic, before the threatnings of Minos: and the sober sayinges of Anaxagoras, before the flattering tales of Ari­stippus: the prudence of Cato, before the foolishnes of Mi­das: and the Schoole of Thalias, before the Court of Ve­nus: And for that I know the Countrey to be more giuen to pleasure, then profited by wisedome: better disposed to vse pastime, then to frequent Uertues Scholes: more de­lighted with the loue of liberty, then practised in the law of ciuility: more pampered in their owne foolishnes, then well nurtured in behauiour, or gratefulnes: you are not ignoraunt of the great good will, that alwayes was bee­tweene your Father and mee, not onely brotherly loue, but also such mutuall fréendship, as my purse lay alwayes open at his commaund: and he to requite me as fréendly vsed like courtesie in what soeuer. I lamente your Fa­thers departure, the more your losse, y ^e greater my gréefe: for kinsmen you haue fewe, but such as for money will claime you of their kindred: for acquaintaunce, you haue more then is needefull, vnlesse greater for your gaine, and more profitable: I onely am lefte the standerde, and you the seconde, both which make but halfe a messe, a [Page 7] [...]mple seruice for so aunciente a family: as for children, you know none I haue, nor any am likely to get: my pos­sessions are not small, and my landes not the least, my li­uinge more then I spende the reuenues, and my credit [...] more then I would it were: but as my charges is great, so my care cannot be litle: and as my substaunce is much, so the meanes to leaue it is yet to make, and for the be­stowing therof, the choice is yet in mine owne handes: and if duety binde mée to perticipate my lyuinge to you, the onely heire of mee, for want of a childe to enioy my landes, yet nature bindeth mee more straightly to bee­stowe it on you beeinge the last, or at the least néerest allied to me in line or lignage: and for that it is common for euery man to giue to his cousen, when hée hath ney­ther children nor brothers, I wil not be found to digresse the boundes of nature, or breake auncient custome: but if you merite well you shall haue ynough, if sufficiēt serue the turne: know you therfore, that the cause of your com­ming, and the busines I sent for you, is to let you vnder­stand somewhat for your profite, and a litle for your com­modity: the loytering life which you leade in the Coun­try, and the careles consuming of your time, is the way to weary you, and the meanes to make you no miser, yet miserabler: of small credite, and as litle callinge: better acquainted, then beloued: and better knowne thē trusted: In déede, I confesse the Countrey to be passing pleasant, & excellent painefull: more daungerous then dainty: more maydenly then mannerly: and more troublesome then trusty: for delights they are not dainty, and all exercises greatly vsed: all which are baites to allure a stronger thē your selfe, & to win one more wise to delight their wiles [...] Of thrée thinges therfore I giue you your choice, leaue which you list, and choose that which liketh you, whither to bee a Marchaunt, and vse those trades which I can ac­quaint you withall, or a Studient to follow the Scholes, and vse the Uniuersities, or a Trauailer, to see for raine Countreies, and learne straunge languages: and in that [Page 8] your lyuing is but small, it shall be augmented: and the better to maintaine your state, your allowance shall bee amended: if you thinke good to be here with mee, I shal be as well satisfied, as you sufficiently contented: which if you do, my counsell shall not bee hurtfull to perswade you, nor my dooinges a cause of your hinderaunce, but the onely meanes for your preferment: Here you may turne your Gould to the greatest gaine, and your Siluer to the surest safety: vse mine, so it be to your profite: and your owne as benificiall as you may: you may walke the Cittie, and treade the streates: make your Marte with Marchantes, and vse conference with Trauailers, debate with Counsellours, and associate the Cittizens: accompany Artifficers, and vse the fellowshippe of some faithfull fréendes: and so make your choice, as you rue not your losse, nor repent your bargaine: for all sortes of fréendes are here to be sound, both good and bad: both honest and disloyall, both trusty and faithles: as wel the Spider as the Bée, as well the Toade as the Turtle, as well the Woolfe as the Lambe, as well the Foxe as the Dooue: As wel Iason y ^e falsest, as Iesippus the faythfullest: as well Aneas most vntrue, as Camillus most constaunt: as well Cressid forsworne, as Troylus most iust of his worde. The féelds y ^t are full of flowers: are ful of wéedes and Nettels: & this Citty so populous, not without flat­terers or dissemblers: the ground yéeldeth as well corne for commodity, as Thistles that are hurtfull: the fresh Riuers bréed as well the fléetinge fish, as the sprawling Frog: if you here escape the Cirtes, you may fall into Caribdis: if you flye the wrath of Iupiter, you may finde the frowning of Saturne: if you escape the Semplagades, yet you shall come amidst the gaping Cicloppes. You shal heare these Swashbucklers sweare, and these ruffians royst it in their rudenesse, who will not sticke to cracke out othes good cheape, and to coyne lyes for nothinge: great acquaintaunce you shall finde, but few fréendes to credite: paynted sheathes, but rusty swoordes: faire faces [Page 9] with crooked condicions: those that will laugh in a mans face and cut his throat: If happely thou finde any whom thou like to make thy freend, and his fancy please thy fauour, trie him before thou trust him, and prooue him before thou praise him, and vse him before thou [...] him: if thou finde him faithful, vse him familiarly: if faithles, reward him as slenderly: if doubtfull, be thou daunger­ous: if subtill, be thou ielous: carry a Ringe in the one hand, and a Fig in the other: write him but in thy tabling booke, so maiest thou easely blot him out againe: vse him as the Irishman doth his wife: who marrieth her for a moneth, then if hée like hir not sendeth her packing: bee wary therfore how thou dealest, and careful with whom thou doost bargaine: whom thou likest, and how thou set him at sale: how his conuersation is, & what his fréends are: whither his calling be so good as thine, or vnfit thy person: the subtilnes of some will cause thée dislike of many, and the collusions of dissemblers, will make thée carefull whom thou choosest thy familiars: the highest flying Hawke, prooueth often haggardly, and the best con­dicions ly not alwayes vnder braue apparel: the sweetest words may come from faithlesse lippes, and louing lookes often deceyue fond fooles: the highest hilles not surest to build vpon, nor the fayrest riuer surest to swimme in: the greenest grasse hideth the greatest Snake, and in the ri­chest ground lyeth the filthy Toade: and is not the preti­ous pearle found in the moulded earth? the Siluer tryed out of the sande? the swéete Rose groweth on a stinkinge dunghill: where lodgeth more honesty, then in a simple couche of strawe? where resteth more fréendship then in poore apparrell, where more vertue then vnder a ragged coate? way not the estate of the man, but the man by his condicions: regarde not his goodly personage, but his good behauiour: estéeme not his great reuenewes, but his goodnes, béeing as gratefull to his power, as thou art be­nificiall to thy callinge: thou knowest the painted pottes haue deadly poyson within them, & costly clothes, ragged [Page 10] walles vnderneath them: and where will the filthy Spi­der sooner spin her poisoned webbe, then in the brauest houses: and to vse the company of thy superiours, thou shalt bee accounted sawcy, although thou be shamefaste: prowd in minde, be thou neuer so simple in spirite: haugh­ty in harte, be thou neuer so duetifull in thy dooinges: the surest safegards is the merry meane, and the safest say­ling in the smoothest Riuers: If they thy betters, what shalt thou doo but please them, though thou displeasure thy selfe? what shalt thou say but sooth them, though a ve­ry lye? what shalt thou speake but to flatter them, though contrary thy conscience? if thou excell them in apparrell, they will say thou art prowde, in not contenting thy selfe with thine owne estate: if better monyed, they will im­magine thou commest not by it so well as thou mightest doo: if thy curtesie bee better lyked of others, then their curiositie loued of any, they will seeke thee some displea­sure, or procure thee some mischiefe: Where contrari­wise, in vsinge the company of thy inferiours, thy credit will be cracked, and thy good name set soone to sale: they will imagine their curtesie, worthy to be preferred before thy wealth, and their vertues to be imbraced, before thy ritches are to be estéemed: their honesty before thy beha­uiour, and their goodnes before thy gratefulnesse: and they will not sticke to report, were not my honesty more regarded, then my ritches are to bee wayed, I could not haue gayned him my fréende, who fauoureth mee so wel: and in so dooinge, doth hée more then I deserue? no trust mee, nor so much as I mente, for were I not worthy, I should not be chosen, and were not my condicions godly, my calling could not be so liked: thus the best bréedeth thy sorrow, and the worst increaseth thy greefe: the best for­sooth is to good, and the worst to be preferred for vertues that know not what honesty meaneth, nor neuer had to doo with it: therfore Narbonus, prefer thy lykinge before my choice, thy loue before my desire, thy owne fancy, be­fore my frée will: The Meane is the plainest noate, and [Page 11] the surest singinge, the Base is to low for thy liking, and the Treble to highe for thy reachinge: vse therfore thy choice, & take thy owne consent, make thy owne match, for thou art like to abide the bargaine: l [...]ke what thou bakest, such must thou eate, and such as thou takest, that must thou stand to: that which liketh the, cannot displease mée, so it be honest, and thy lyuing shall procure my loue, if it be vertuous: but sow in any wise the séede of constan­cy, so shalt thou reape the fruit of thy felicity, and vse thy faithfull fréend with loyalty to the last of thy life: so shalt thou purchase mee thy most assured, so longe as thou list: but thy duty alwaies reserued towardes mée, so shall my goodnes neuer leaue thée, til I forsake my life: & in for­going my life, thy happines wil not be procured, though my liuings be obtained. Certefie mée therfore, good Nar­bonus, the ful effect of thy purpose, and let me vnderstand the drift of thy deuice, which is best thy liking, and what fittest thy dooing, I expect thy answere.

Narbonus stoode all this while, somtimes so wrapt with ioy, and then againe so mooued with obedience: now glad of his good hap, and then maruailing at the goodnes of his Unckle: now laughing in minde, and th [...] weping in harte, to see the carefulnes hee had of him, and the vn­kindnes of himselfe: but at length arming him selfe with boldnes, and reiectinge all manner of fearfulnes, hee re­plied as foloweth.

Deare Uncle, as I am to thanke you for your gratious counsell, so am I dutifully bound, to obey your excellent deuises: and as I am to be blamed for spending my tyme so loyteringly, so shall I for euer be at youre commaunde, for procuring my felicitie: and what youre good pleasure shall thinke beneficiall for my estate, my willing obedi­ence shall not make any spotte of preiudicialitie, maugre your meaning: your hoarie heares do hasten my parte to conceyue passing well of youre determinations, and my mind being mollifyed with the rules of reason, will easily taste youre wholesome lessons, duety bindeth me to do no [Page 12] lesse, and age constreyneth me to my mighte, yet abilitie wanteth to my willing mind: which seeing it hath pleased your goodnesse so gratefully to offer, I will not be repro­ued of wilfulnesse, vngratiously to persist youre purpose: touching my estate as yet vnstayed, and my loytering life that hath vnprofitably bin led, hath hitherto not bin trou­blesome to many, nor chargeable to any, disliked of some, and loued of others, blamed as I deserued, but not vtterly conte [...]ted, or altogither reprooued: the good demeanour you say of my Father, hath possessed mee a place in your heart, and if therefore my soule be founde vnmindfull of your benefites, I wish to be reiected, where now I am be­loued, your ciuilitie (déere Uncle) bewrayes you not onely a Citizen in outwarde shew, but inwardly an helper to your poore friendes, and a furtherer of your neere neygh­boures: but Sir, you condemne the Countrey causelesse, and imagine their craftinesse to be cloaked with simplici­tie: but talke with a Clowne, and he will better resolue you then my selfe can certifye you: but this I know by ex­perience, and that my eyes haue séene, my lippes maye boldly vtter, your stréetes are stately, oure pathwayes are pleasant: your houses haughty, our habitations hand­some: your Shoppes abound in brauery, oure Barnes are filled with fruitefull commoditie: your Gardens are fine out of measure, our Fieldes are faire with all pleasure: your Dames decked in brauerie, our wines wedded in honestie: you wante nothinge, and wee lacke not all thinges: you confesse, oure exercises are first preferred, our healthes the likelier to bee preserued: you eate like Epicures, wee absteyne lyke Stoykes: you are cloyed with the excesse of Heliogabalus, wee contented with the roste of Romulus: you the quassinge of Alexander, we ne­uer surfet with drinking faire water: you the flatterie of Aristippus, we the faith of Laelius: you deuoute Uotaryes, we of God true feruitours, you the musike of Apollo, we the Pipe of Pan [...] we Hauke without hurt, you hunte lyke Homer: we ride for recreation, you rest for rewardes: we [Page 13] often méete merily, you oftner manerly: our banquetting brings restoritie, youre feastes are filled with gluttonie: you wanton, we warli [...]e: wee trie our strength, you drye your drugges: you fence it, we fight it: though you wante not any thing, yet haue we that sufficeth oure turnes, you giue me gratious instructions, and godly lessons, in war­ning me of your wiles, and telling me of your toyes: for (alas) the sillie Birde is quickly caughte with the lime-twigge, the subtile Foxe is taken in his owne hole, the gréedie Wolfe sometimes killed euen in the Shéepefold, and no maruell if my simplicitie gayne me quickly a place of infidelitie: in that there are both the Sirtes, and the Semphlagades, both Lays and Calipso, both Iesabell, and Ia­son, alas, how shall I looke? how shall I walke? whome shal I way? whome shall I beléeue? whome shal I trie? whome shall I trust? whome shall I credite? who will not deceyue me? how dare I? nay, why dare I not? for that dastards are oftnest in greatest daunger: héere are the swéete Sirenes, héere the meeke Mermaydes, héere the faythlesse flocke of Flora, but where the vestals of Diana? héere is lust with­out loue, libertie without loyaltie, affection without fayth, constancie without chastitie, behauiour without honoure, fancie without feruencie, small vestalitie, yet lesse mode­stie: if happily I choose some faithfull friende, I shall bee fearefull he will proue a faithlesse foe: if I proue Damon ▪ he Damocles: he Theseus, I Vlysses: I Orestes, he Protheus which turneth into euery shape: I then shall be sorowfull beyonde measure, and my care will be greately increased: thus shal I graft grapes, and reape rushes: firste must I proue, then prayse: first view, then vaunt: firste gette, then gayne: first trie, then trust: first haue, then holde: once gay­ned, neuer forsaken, and once gottē neuer lost: if his birth better than myne, then wyll he blame me: if his ly­uing greater, then disdeyne me: if hee many friendes, I beholding to him, if I few, he not regarding me: if hard­harted, then will he hate me: if furious hastie, faythlesse defye me: but to knowe, and then to kéepe, is a péerelesse [Page 14] patrimonie, and a doubt voyde of all daunger: and what? shall I proue, and not be proued? nay: shal I not be repro­ued? tryall on any man, is sufficiente to acquite any villa­nie. Constantius, father to Constantine the Great, to the end to make tryall of his faithfull friends, and to represse his faithlesse foes, fauouring greatly the faith of the Gos­pell, and loathing those that liked it not, on a time deter­mined to make knowne the good will he bare to his louing subiects, and to represse the rage of rebellious Roysters, putting in proofe a practise, as profitable to his owne e­state, as commendable in so noble a man as himselfe, cau­sed to be bruted abroade and proclaimed openly, that those olde ordinances of the Gentiles, and Statutes of the Pa­ganes, touching Religion, shoulde in as ample manner be vsed, with such superstitious Ceremonies of the Canoni­call Cleargie, and diuelish deuises of olde dotardes, as had before bin vsed, and euer till his time maynteyned, which to be perfourmed with speedy perfection, the forfeyture of fire and fagot was to be rendred to the resistantes: to the speedie dispatche whereof, the Nobilitie were first willed to vayle their bonets, and leade the dance, then the Laytie to follow within the compasse of the time alotted. Short­lye after, the Emperoure helde a generall Counsell, and made a solemne méeting, as well the Spiritualtie, as also the Temporaltie, where this matter was called in que­stion, and sifted to the vttermost, all were asked, all exa­mined, all prooued, but not all found péerelesse: all tryed, but not all found trusty: a great number of lusty gallants quickly consented, yéelding to all suche articles as were sette downe, and agréeing to whatsoeuer had bin proclay­med, no torture, no tormente, no fire, no fagot, shoulde cause them recant their sayings, or alter their determi­nations. Then were examined the Laytie, and those of the meaner sorte, the greatest number of the whiche had cast their ancker long sithence, which should neuer be re­moued out of the sands of their soules, without the losse of life, and the fruition of the last felicitie. The good Em­perour [Page 15] waying well the pouertie of their penurie, the truth of their tryall, and the clearenesse of their conscien­ces, that losse of liuing, and forgoing this libertie, and ra­ther the feare of death could not remoue their mindes, or change their heartes: whereat these gallantes that had lately turned their tippets, and moued their minds from better to worsse, laughed in their sléeues, and had the o­thers greatly in derision, he caused immediately all those turnecotes to be banished the Court, and their liuings to be giuen vnto the others, and if euer they returned, death was their due, and they should surely haue it, made those Counsellors to his highnesse, and the others reiected for euer out of his presence: for (sayde he) these men are fitte for so noble a personage as my selfe, & worthy my Coun­sellors: suche friendes I feare me shall I finde, who will groape me for gayne, and turne away for euery trifle: march in the mayne battell, but flie from the fight, looke for the spoyle, but bide no brunt of the broyle: lost with an egge, and wonne with an apple: I as hote as Aetna, they as colde as Caucasus: I as true as Troylus, they as false as Iason: if I frie in faith, they will freese in false­hoode: if the company of some virgin do entice me to like hir, and perhappes allure me to loue hir, I shall hardlye finde a Castor: easilie a Flora, sooner a haggardish Helen, than a chast Lucretia: sooner a beastly Biblis, than a godly Theocrita: greate courtesie, but little chastitie: solemne protestations, but slender perfourmāces: sweete words, but bitter in the eating: to flatter is a high poynct, and to glose a glorious gayne: the one yeeldeth perdition, the o­ther bringeth distruction: to paynt thē out in their pride and to carue them in their colours, I should but incurre their displeasures, and do my selfe small profite: the best is but badde, yet my selfe can not make the worst better: yet beautie, the more it is discommended, the greater de­sire a man hath to behold it: and a good thing mixed with that whiche is more vile, maketh a better shewe. Venus seemed most fayre of fauoure, when the blacke bearde of [Page 16] Vulcane was alwayes with hir: is not the Rose neatest that groweth amongst nettles: the coulour of white most perfect, paynted vpon a blacke grounde. But as all is not Golde that glistreth, nor all Siluer that shineth, so cache painted portrature prooueth not the purest, nor euerye sauce that is sauourest the most wholesomest: the sower broath doth as well comforte the stomacke; as the sweete sugre séemeth pleasant in the tast: the choise of friends are so changeable, and the estate so vnstayed of such yong no­uices as my selfe, that thynking to gayne the greatest treasure, I may finde but rusty iron, and deluing for the good gold, may get but couloured copper: whome should I choose my companions, when the highest are out of my reach, and the lowest stande vpon the tearmes of their vertues: to atteyne the touching of the Skyes with my finger I shoulde be counted very foolishe, and so base as to goe into Hell, the mind of a miserable man: then the earth is the onely place of my estate, and the seate to proue the penaltie of my fortune: the highest things haue the grea­test fall, but he that goeth on the grounde, can fall but to the earth, and falling no farther, may easily rise agayne. Where you will me to vse your house as my owne home, your habitation, as my proper mansion, and your goodes, as my owne golde: the greatest thing▪ to requite youre courtesie, and the most that I can giue you is thankes for your goodnesse, and obedience for youre desarte: the one I giue you so franckly as I am able to offer, as for the other where my doinges shall bee founde contrary to your de­sarts, I pray to be rewarded with shame, and to be dealte withall according to my doublenesse: pleaseth it you ther­fore to be some stay vnto me, and a helper, to maynteyne my poore portion, the best I thinke fitte my calling, and the likeliest I sée to be any preferment to my estate, is to apply the studie of the law, and to practise it so speedely as may be. Wittenberge hath the name for good Sudentes, and the better Schollers, the likelyer I, soonest to atteine the perfection of my studie, and the effect of my purpose: [Page 17] pleaseth you therefore to furnish mee with necessaries, and to prouide for my wantes, my long absence shall not procure my penaltie, nor the driuing off the time a hyn­derance to my studies.

The good old man Henricus his Unckle was as glad to heare his wise answers, as hee was afterwards sory for his lewde behauiour, and as well contented to furnish him with all necessaries, as afterward moued to beholde his carelesse life, he therefore furnished him with all ne­cessaries whatsoeuer, and prouided so well for his iour­ney, as himselfe desired. After a few courteous gratulati­ons, and swéete embracings, with sugred wordes, as the common course of custome is, Narbonus committed hys Unckle to the gouernance of God, and himselfe to the fa­uour of the faire fields, and pleasant pathes: nowe is our yong youth in the worne way to Wittenberge, and féeling the hard trotting of his Horsse, our Lady be his spéede, and send him as delectable a passage, as he is a morously min­ded. When sundry cogitations assayled hym, and many vain fansies flew before his face, which were not so quic­lie come, but as suddainelie faded againe, flattering hym­selfe with this conceyte, and then drowned in desire with some other, quite contrarie: but amongst other thoughtes that assayled him, and deuises that troubles him, he vtte­red these words to himselfe: Alas Narbonus, how wyll God now deale with thée? for other friendes héere thou shalt hardly find, first depriued of my good mother, the spe­ciall friend of my prosperitie, and the only worker of my weale, whose secure care in wishing me well, was as much as nature coulde giue: for the loue of the mother is alwayes greater, than the good will of any other friende, and great reason why it should be so, for that hir trauel is the greatest in bringing it to the world: hir care is also the most, in preseruing and nourishing it to the best mo­tion of hir minde, and bringing it vp most obedientlye in the feare of God, and dutifully towards all others what­soeuer: and had I but retayned hir, my griefe should haue [Page 18] bin the lesse, and my sorrowes not so many, but the destinies had so appoynted it, why then shoulde my con­sente be wanting, and my willing mynde absente in a­nye respecte? then lost I my Father, by whome I en­ioy these small possessions, and little reuenewes, to maynteyne my poore estate, God sende me no moe suche fyndings, nor gyue me suche windfalles: hys care of my prosperitie was not small, though my disobedience to­wardes hym were greate, hys great desire that he had of my mayntenance, and the little dutie I shewed there­fore [...] his secure care in bringing me vp in learning and good ciuilitie, and as little regarde on my parte to fulfill hys commaundementes: and the last wordes that hée spake to me, when afterwarde I neuer sawe hym open hys mouth more, were, that I shoulde be busie with my Bookes, and plye them as my most perfect patrimo­nie: for thy Bookes (sayde hée) will yeelde thee heauen­lye knowledge, as for all other thynges, they are but [...]a [...]thly, and therefore full of vanitie: whyche wordes come nowe into my remembrance, and happened by chance into my head, appoynted I thinke of God, as a meane to helpe me forwarde, and a motion to make my desire the greater: therefore my good wyll shall not bee founde any way negligen [...]e, nor my mynde to bée moued with anye other delight. And nowe haue I lost the residue of my friendes, and departed the [...]ighte of all my olde companyons, whose sights whylest I enioyed, was comfortable, and their felow­shippe fauourable: perhappes they wyll enquire of me, and hearing of my departure, seeme sorowfull, or el [...]e wisshe me well: but what gayne I by that? or happely desire my safe returne: but in the meane time theyr sighte is absente, and out of sighte, wyll in tyme hée also out of mynde: seldome séene, is soone forgotten, and once gone, and neuer remembred, whyche I knowe not to bee more sooth, than sure, more common, than true: more often spoken, than [Page 19] alwayes perfourmed: somewhat I knowe by my owne nature, and my imagination can not bee but true: the deathe of my Father was so greeuous at the firste, and my lamenting so vntollerable, as if my Soule shoulde haue forsaken my Bodye, or my life lefte the habitation where it dwelte: but time maketh me almost not remember hys fauoure, and thys long tyme since hathe caused mée forgette (almost) an [...]ethyng that euer hée dyd: shall not my companye hée then forgotten, and my remembrance put cleane out? shall my doyngs bée talked on, or my sayings remem­bred? shall anye drincke to the health of me, or re­member mee at theyr feastes: no, as my departure was suddayne, so will my name bée as soone forgot­ten: and looke as the wallowing waues tumbling ouer any thyng falne into the Sea, or suncke downe to the botthome by chance, for certayne Tydes after it maye bée séene, or looked vppon as it lyeth, but when the Fluddes haue washed the Sandes ouer it, or made it to bee hidden, the verye lykenesse is quicklye forgotten, and afterwardes, the very thyng it selfe. Or as the picture of a man hanging by the walles, decayeth in couloure, and fadeth in fauoure, tyll all bée consumed, and nothyng remayneth but the bare Table, hée is neuer drawen agayne, bycause the forme is forgotten, and the fauoure not remembred. Or as the Toome of a dead man long buryed, at last fallinge to decaye, and béeynge broken downe, is in tyme troden euen with the Earthe, and ne­uer after buylded, bycause both the superscription is forgotten, and the memoriall of the manne lost▪ euen suche is my case, and so shall bée my estate, thus shall I bée troden on in mynde, and my remem­brance blotted quite out. Thus he trauailed in the care of his conceytes, and troubled with those things whiche long before were forgotten, at length hée came to [Page 20] Wittenberge, a place strongly fortified with stoute Stu­dents, and careful Scholemaisters, with braue baristers, and [...]aynefull Priests, with paynted Prelates, and boy­sterous Bishops: with couetous Cardinals, and carelesse Cloysterers: but these are eyther the ghostly Gospellers of God, or the sauerie salt of Sathan: these studie rather the Bookes of Beliall, thā the Axiomeas of Aristotle: these candle bearing taperers, and putrifyed peasants, the vn­satiable sincke of sinne, and workers of all wickednesse, whose lippes are alwayes lying, mumbling their Masses, as though they had already gayned the good will of God, when their heartes are as farre from him, as Heauen is from y ^e Earth▪ My yong mayster saw these their sleights, but followed not their fashions: looked still on them, but l [...]sted not greatly for their companyes: was contented to behold their mischiefes, but regarded not to do after their requests: but the silly Flie buzzeth so long aboute the flame, that in the end she is scorehed with the fire: and the craftie Mouse catcheth so long at the chéese, that she is ta­ken with the trappe: the Frogge leapeth so often vp the bancke, that the Crow catcheth hir: so fared Narbonus at the first, laughed at their wātonnesse, but in the end was enticed to their wiles: he looked so long on their brauery, that he was taken with their pride: he gazed so long on their deynties, that he filled himselfe with their drugges: now the Tennis courtes were claymed his possessions: the Dauncing schooles more deyntie for so louely de­lightes: the Theaters most gratefull for this gaynefull guest: now began he to plucke his head out of the coller, and pulled his powle into his hoode, renounced all hys forepassed preachings, and denyed all y ^e bragge boastings againste the bountifull brauerie of Venus courtly crew: and he who was lately so sure a resistant, is now a faith­full defendant contrary his profession, and cleane against the articles of his late beléefe: hee that so lately would watche with carefull Chrisippus, doth now sléepe with drowsie Endimion: who lately was as Carterly as Dio­genes, [Page 21] is now as Courtly as Paris: he that lately was as loyall as Laelius, is now as carelesse as Cresside: but as the kernell must be throwen into the grounde before it will grow a Trée, or like as the Milke must be brused be­fore it be Butter, or the toung of the Parret cutte before she will prate, so must maners be refourmed, where re­medie is resistant, and affections brideled, where folly is the formost, and fancie defaced, where pleasure is the president: so must the Spanyell whelp be taughte to car­rie, before he assay to take the water: the Oxe to drawe with his fellow, before he take the yoke alone: the Horsse ridden with a cloth on hys backe before he weare the Sadle: in like maner this tender twigge woulde yet bée bent with one finger: the rootes not runne so farre into the ground, but they might easilie be plucked vp agayne: the sprigges not yet sprouted so farre out, but they might be lopped at leysure, or proyned at pleasure: but héere hée was daunted with the blazing beautie of yong Damsels, and regarding the flourishing faces of manerly maidens: now he behelde runnagate Atlanta, and then the alluring face of louely Lays: now the fashions of fine Flora, and thē the diuelish desires of vnfortunate Phaedra: now the filthy lust of beastly Pasiphae, and then the vnsatiable desire of baudy Biblis: these filthy factions made so strong a breach into the tender hearte of this youngling, and so broade a batterie into the bowell of his mind, as he imagined him­selfe wrapt out of Hell, into Heauen: or raysed out of the Graue into Paradise: or waked out of a carefull slumber, into a quiet cogitation: now away with these babling Bookes, and to what purpose serueth the paltrie pen? now for the studie, the Stewes: for the chast chamber, the choyce of chamberers: for y ^e Studients gowne, the Casti­lian cloake: for the ciuill cappe, the flaunting feather: for the comely apparel, the Italian waste: for spirituall, tem­porall: and for ciuilitie, the domesticall doings: for the séedes of vertue, the blossoms of beastlynesse: this was the estate of his studie, and this the depth of his deuises: this [Page 22] the determination of his dooinges, and this the desperate desires of his dotinge desaster: this the vnstayednes of so retchles a companion, and this the sicklenes of so foolish a fondlinge, who would not sticke to gage his gowne for a penny worth of pastime, and to burne all his bookes for a cast at Cards: neither vnknowē of the goldsmithes, nor vnacquainted with Tailours: as for the Mercers, either alwaies in their bookes, or neuer without their billes: for his Host [...], hée could handle him so cunningly, and flatter him so finely, but rewarded as slenderly, as the husbandman was by the colde Snake that hée layd by the fire: & for that his riches would not reach, nor his sub­stance extend, to maintaine a Pesaunt, or to kéepe a man to wait on him, y ^e Sergeants refused not to take so much paines, or bestowe a litle labour to waite on this weery wayfarer, where place did proffer so iust an occasion, or time permit to bestow their diligence: But for that his Unckle was neither vnknowen, nor hée vnseen, his liber­ty was licensed, and his worde taken of his creditours. But as at one time Phillip lost al Macedon, Antiochus all Asia, the Carthaginians all Libie, so my yonge Maister with one yeares studye, loste all his Bookes and solde all his Landes, which before his Father had so carefullye gotten, and so custodiously kepte for him: and in spen­dinge thus ydelly his liuinge, he had almost won the yll wil of his Unckle, then the which, there was not any one thing more against his profit, nor whatsoeuer otherwise so preiudiciall his estate: all went to wracke, all wente to hauocke, all goes to decaye, all goes to the spoile: no­thinge is gained, nor any thinge saued: here was braue­ry, without honestye, and finenesse without prudencye, coynesse not without great coste, and nicenesse not with­out great disprofite: hawtinesse with a pennyles Purse, and stoutnesse, with small wisedome: this was the fashi­on, this was after the cut, this was the newest deuice, and this the dayntiest dealinge: this the greatest for his credite, and this would purchase him some Priuiledge: [Page 23] and if a man should haue demaunded the cause, or asked the meaninge of his pretence, his answere should haue béene: his Unckle was commended for so maintaining him, and what was spente, was for the credite of his Unckle, and a great praise in himselfe: his Unckle for maintaininge him so gallantly, and hee for spendinge it so brauely.

O foole, was not this thy discredite? and a grea­ter gréefe to thy Unckle, to see thée so fondly giuen, and to lay the blame vppon thy deare freende, who was so gladde of thy well dooinge, and reioysed when hée sawe thee honestlye giuen: thou wast indéede, yong of yeares, but yonger in thy dealinges: a Nouice for thy age, and a chylde for thy lyuing: greene in perfection, and verye foolishe in thy outwarde dea­linges.

Beholde here Gentlemen, the libidinous lust of licen­cious libertie, and the vnstaied stedfastnes of a foolishe youth: the outragious rigour of a stately studient, and the bold blindnes of Bayards brat: the vnreasonable desires that draue him forward in this wicked working, and the filthy factions voide of all honesty, and without either meane or measure: the sweet instructions were now for­gotten, and the goulden meane was quite reiected out of his minde: gréedy desire passed the one parte of him, and déepe disdaine was alwaies on the other side: then belike the Diuell daunced iust in the middle: and who so fit a fréend for so careles a companiō? such Maister, such Ser­uaunt: such Chaplaine, such Parishioners: such Shéepe, such a Shepheard: now the dycing houses retaine him, & then the Tauerns holde him: neuer godly disposed, but alwaies wickedly minded: neuer better then mischie­uously bente, nor at any time other then enuiously pre­tended: as prodigal as could be desired, and as malicious as could be imagined: and prodigality is commonly the meanes to pennury, next Neighbour to beggery, ioyned with misery, and freend to infelicity, the helper of licen­ciousnesse, [Page 24] and neighbour to all wickednesse: there he [...] playes, there hee prates, there hee sweates, there hee sweares, there hée stampes, there hee stares: God is ne­uer out of his mouth, and the Diuell neuer from his thought: hee throweth the Dice, and the Diuell iogges his elbow, then coms sice sincke, and wisshes the Diuel take them, and hée stands behinde, ready to receaue him: Here flyeth the Angels without feathers, and there goes the Golde away in gubbes, the Siluer is so slipper that it cannot abide in his Budgettes, and his coine so colde that it must séeke some warmer corner: The Theaters could not stande, excepte Narbonus were there, nor the plaies goe forwarde vnlesse hee trimmed the Stage: the match was neuer made, till hée was come thither, nor the bargaine any thing worth, till hée him selfe was in place: hée must see and bée séene, gaze on others, and be gaped on him selfe: sometimes to laugh at others, then to lowre at his owne conceites: sometimes to gester, then to vse gra­uitie: somtimes to reioyce, then to be ielous: somtimes to make signes to some Minion, and then to talke with a trull of trust, who would offer thrée for one, and for eue­ry stroke strike twice: Here marched Maister Cutpurse aboute so maidenly, and looked so mannerly, as though wealth were his worste, and coyne his smalest care, yet your hande no sooner pluckt from your pocket, but his would be in your purse as ready as might bee, and as di­ligent as a man would not desire: so lusty a looke as if hee liked no such lures, and so stately a countenance, as if hée néeded no groates: here walked another mannerly mate with a paire of blanckes, and a paire of flattes, a paire of langrets, and a paire of stopt Dice, a paire of barde quater treies, and other Dice of vauntage, they would giue you a crosse cast ouer the thombes, and such a blow on your backe, as they would leaue neuer a penny in a mannes purse, but go home with as many faces as a Shéepe: then these consuming caytiffes, and canckred Caterpillers, who would exchange Golde with Counters, and Siluer [Page 25] for counterfeytes: these had also a place amongst the best, and bare a brayne amidst the brauest. Then were there these bitchlike beastly Bées, whose noses would be slit for the Glanders, and their tong cut shorter, that they might prate the better: these woulde bring you a bonylasse to your bedde, or send you to some good house of credite: these toyes vsed my yong mayster, till he was as wise as a Woodcocke, and as ritch as a redde hearing: his landes were morgaged, and his liuings lost: his money al spent, and he almost at the last cast: and for lacke of other exer­cises, and wāting other recreations, he practised the song Schole, and raught so high a note, but that he mistooke sometime his Cliftes, and gaue his notes wrong names: for sol, he sang soulde: for la, all, and for fa, forfayted: all was sent going, nothing left behind to giue hys friende: as well monyed, as he that had iust neuer a Denire: this was the good dealing of my gratious youth: this the good studie he employed: this the gayne of his going, and this the profite he reaped for his liberall lauishing: nowe he must practise some new deuise to gette more coyne, and séeke some way to put moe pence into his pocket: some subtill shift, or any craftie conueyance, some cast of hys learning, or tricke of his cunning: but the Goldsmithes were his friends, and would lend him to his cost: he payd for his borowing, and those were déere bargaynes: and one amongst the rest set him so farre ouer the shoes, as he could not get out of the mire in a long time after. But his Unckle more gratious, than he deserued, and more beneficiall than he merited: more bountifully dealing with him, than he was curteously able to requite whyle he liued: more happie was his estate, than euer he expec­ted it should be: the worst was not ill ynough for so care­lesse a carle, and the most vnfortunate too happie for so doltish a dizzard, that regarded not hys liuing, nor wayed his wealth: regarding neyther the spending of his owne, nor the carelesse consuming of his Uncles. Thus prooued he more lasciuious than well studied, and yet better lear­ned, [Page 26] than well nurtured: and yet his nurture so farre excelled his nature whiche was changed from better to worsse, as a man would rather haue iudged him a Homi­cide, than a Scholler: a lewde liuer before a sure student: a vile loyterer, before a good Doctor. His Unckle seeing his shiftes, and marking his maners, regarding his dea­lings, and viewing his naughtinesse: looking on his mise­rie, and lamenting the leesing of his libertie: sometimes thought to vse him with rigour, and then againe moued with pitie: sometimes thought to forsake him, and then againe remembring the youth of his yeares: sometimes determined to banish him his sight for euer, and then a­gaine calling to remembrance that his was the motion of his going, therefore he worthy to be blamed for procu­ring him to it, doubtful whether to write or send, yet send he must perforce, vnlesse hee would beholde his vtter ru­ine, and not regard the decaying of his estate: he therfore directed by the messenger a Letter, whiche more moued Narbonus, then euer any thing that was said to him be­fore, which was deliuered with as great spéede, as it was hastily written: the seruant after deliuerie made of his superscribed Letter, wente to dispatch some businesse in the Towne, promising to returne so hastely as he coulde dispatch spéedely: Narbonus repairing to his Chamber, opened the Letter, and found that which he before suspe­cted, the tenor whereof ensueth.

NArbonus hauinge read the Letter, and wayinge the effect of the contents, his eyes burst sodainely into a fountaine of teares, makinge a litle riuer, vpon his wa­tery cheekes, looking vpon him selfe, as vncertaine whi­ther the Letter were presented him from his Unckle, or that it were but the flying fancy of some dreame: but per­ceiuinge it to be true in déede, and no deceiuinge deuice that beguiled him, hée wept so bitterly, as a man may im­magine Peeter did for his Maister: so fast the teares ran from him, and the gréefe was greater then the anguish of him that receiueth iudgement, or hath his condemnacion pronounced against him to yéeld to the torments of death, [Page 31] or to pay his life a ransom for all wicked dooings: his hart did so languish his yll hap, and lewde life, and his soule lamented his froward fate, & daungerous destiny, as if no pardon should acquited him, or any raunsome set him frée: his soule for a season in an extasie, and his minde so amazed, as if in lamenting, hee should haue died, and in dyinge, made some attonement for his sinnes: such was the extremitie of his passion, and so greate the gréefe of this new receaued Letter: for his conscience was guilty, and therfore yeelded to the force of his fancy, ledde as it were by a legion of resolucions, which way to take, or what was best be done: but in the end, perceiuing his own folly, and musing at his madnes, in that children doo cry, and Women wéepe: not men to complaine in such order, or lament with y ^e léesing of a few teares, but should bridle vp their affections, and moderate their maladies in such order, as their wéepinge will neither auayle in their de­meanes, nor teares bée any testimony of their trecherous toyes: his thoughtes altogeather inflamed with fury, and his minde mooued with the measure of his malady, vtte­red these wordes to himselfe, and spoke as foloweth.

And is it true Narbonus, that thy Unckle hath dealt with thee after thy dooings, and rewarded thee according to thy workes? and if hee doe so, is it more then I merit, or other then my desertes are? no trust mée, nor so much: for were it so, how could I euer looke vpon him agayne? could my heart haue power, or my lippes bee so bolde, to craue a thinge so vnreasonable? or to aske that, which in conscience I cannot desire, his pardon to bee graunted, which will not be denyed, durst I attempt it, or put it in practise, whose care hath beene so comfortable and ayde fo assistaunt, in all these my doubtfull dealinges and des­perate desasters: how shall I vtter one sweet word? no it will bee so sowre, as he will hardly digest it: can I ima­gine any collusion to cloake my craft withal, or frame any excuse to hide my folly: Why had I not been called? I had staied in the Countrey, and not come to Vienna: but [Page 32] my callinge was for commoditie, and willed for my wel­fare: but being informed of my wanton life, was wished to spende my time more honestly: but I was sente to Wittenberge, to learne the Law, and to profite my selfe in learninge: but my sendinge was not to learne wit of a Woodcocke, or wisedome of him that knoweth not what it meaneth: but I was sente like a Trauailer, therfore my expences the greater, but my lyuing should haue bin like a Cittizen, and so my credite beene made larger: but had I not beene caused, I had consented: but the choyce was mine owne, and the refusall was in my making: but had I not bin exhorted, I had stayed at home in the Coun­trey: and had I stayed at home, my lyuing had not béene lost: but mine was the consente, and mine the motion: mine the demaundinge, and mine the requestinge: mine the wishing to obtaine, therfore mine must be the blame, and mine the shame, and mine the repentaunce, for none shall smart but my selfe, nor any feele the foyle, but hee that began the battaile. The spending of my lyuinge, hath prooued mee a lewde loyterer, and the losing of my lands a right Abbey lubber: first I should haue gotten, and then fréely spent: first spare, then vsed: first gayned, and then gratified: first found franckely, and then laid on liberally. But caitiffe that I am, and most wretched, amongst other infortunate: now I speake what I should done, nowe what my pretence might haue béene, nowe I speake my minde, that it is to late, and vtter what before was to bee remedied: And why could not my estate be stayed as be­fore? and my dooing dealt in so good order as before they were? now shall my owne rod, bee the remedy for such a royster: and my owne staffe my stale for so foolish a har­binger, the stay of my simple state stolen away, how shal my life be prolonged? what shall I but morne in misery, and pine in perplexitie? But were these Letters sowre? and were they not also sweete? if they were bitter, yet were they tooth some? and though they were sharpe, yet were they comfortable: hée began roughly, but ended [Page 33] gently: reproued me sharply at y ^e beginning, but intreated mee fauourably at the end: though he began with rigour, yet ended he with reason: with rigour, nay with iustice rather: for to punish offenders is a thing commended in the lawes of God, spoken by his owne mouth, and affir­med in the holy Scriptures: why then should I escape, or be forgiuen? why should I not be payd my desarts, and re­payed according to iustice? my case deserueth to be for e­uer reiected, and neuer to atteyne the friendly fauour of my gratious Unckle agayne: but séeing his goodnesse [...] offered me such fauour, his friendly countenāce so requi­ted my vniust desarts: he like a good Shepe [...]ear [...]e [...] called me home one of the lost flocke: I receyue his grate­full good will, and reioyce so in his good offer [...] earst I despaired euer to atteyne his fauour againe.

Sayling amidst these contrary cogitations, and blow­inge the coales of hys boyling brest, hys Unckles man, who had dispatched his affaires, and ended his businesse, entred the Chamber, finding him more pleasantly dispo­sed than he looked for, and yet perceyuing by his counte­nance that he had read the contents of his pasported let­ter, and found that whiche both comforted his stomacke, and griped him at the gall: both eased his maladie, and en­creased his griefe: both moued his patience, and framed his welfare, to whome Eubulanus his Unckles man spake as followeth.

Sir Narbonus, you haue I trust this tractable time of my absence, and the while of this my long delay delibera­ted vpon the contentes of my masters letters, and found at full the effect of their meaning, pleaseth you therefore to reanswere them, I purposely stay vpon their spéedie dispatch, for to defer time serueth now to small purpose, and to stay longer than the importance of my businesse requireth, were great charge [...], without likelyhoode of a­ny profite: he willed me to make hast, and not to stay lon­ger than of necessitie I must, or forced to expect your an­swere: for (said he) my Nephew will come I thinke with [Page 34] you, and will not cause you stay vpon any matter, or pro­long any time about any thing, whatsoeuer: which if you purpose to goe, or haue set downe with your selfe to put in execution, I beséech you let it be with speede, and apply­ed with hast the greatest that may be, for the sooner wée are going, with more spéede will be our ariuall, and the longer we stay, the more will be our charge.

Gramercies, good Eubulanus, answered Narbonus, for thy dutifull diligence in doing me this pleasure: and I thanke thée for the secret care thou hadst in the deliuerie of these my Letters: as for my good Unckle, I finde this his goodnesse so great, and his kindnesse so much, that so farre as my life shall reach, and the vttermost boundes of my health permitte howsoeuer, I shall be found ready to die at his féete, and to offer my soule a sacrifice, to do him such small pleasure, as my little life will permitte: as for thy great paines and carefull diligence, shall be referred till some other time, and driuen off for a more gratefull good turne, till God graunt me somewhat more liberally to bestow on thee, and send me to requite the vttermost of thy good wil: meanewhile, take y ^e forfaiture of my faith, & the troth plighted of one y ^t will not deale double, as a most iust gage, and a perfect pledge to pleasure thée howsoeuer.

Sir, reanswered Eubulanus, these small deserts & little gratulations which I dutifully haue done, and obediently fulfilled, were forced by feare, and constreyned by com­mandement by your Unckle, and my Maister, which of dutie extended so farre, and therefore could do no lesse, ex­cept I should haue shewed my selfe vndutifull, or restrey­ned my seruice: this therfore, neither meriteth praise, nor deserueth any fauour: but if fortune be so friendly, or my hap so happie, that in matters of magnanimitie, or works of waight, my simple seruice might be sene, or my willing mind made manifest, the dutie to my maister reserued, and my obedience towards him excepted, you should not find any want of good will, or my duty worthy blame, so farre as my smal power were limited, or within the com­passe [Page 35] of my life whatsoeuer.

Narbonus giuing him the choyce of a thousand thankes, and offering him any courtesie for his great good will, she­wed the effect of his hastie letters, and the posting spéede that they required: that his Unckles pleasure was, hée should with speede come to Vienna, and not to make longer tariance, than necessitie required, or the cause of the stay­ing would permitte: they therefore causing their Horsses to be in readinesse, and trussing vp such trinckets as they could, departed the morning ensuing, almost without ta­king leaue of any, or giuing a friendly farewell to his old friends, and auntient companions.

These wayfaring trauellers, & rancke riders, on their way towards Vienna, & some part of their iourney passed, discoursed of sūdry maters, & the estates of diuers townes, so of their owne Weale publike, and of the Towne of Vi­enna, then of the Father of Narbonus, & so of his Unckle.

Sir said Eubulanus, this youre iourney was framed in hast, and furnished in post: no sooner determined, than en­ded, and no sooner thought on, then put in practise: but had you knowen before the law to haue bin so laxatiue to your pursse, and so peruerse to your purpose, I thinke you would eyther haue constreyned the countrey to kept you, or bin content your Unckles house should haue holdē you.

Truth Eubulanus, for the law is laborsom, and very te­dious, and no loytering lozell may atteine vnto it, or any trifling student euer come néere y ^e perfection therof: as for the countrey, my care was cōsolation, and my hardest hap blisseful bale, the worst weale was great ioy, and nothing contr [...]ried my purpose, or disliked my doings. But Sir, if your study had bin strained, & your wit reiected, you might haue atteined, which now must vnnethes be gainsaide.

I Eubulanus, had Alexander knowen after his valiant victories, & great cōquests of the third part of y ^e world, he shuld haue left his life so soone, or bin poysoned in Babylon, he would neuer haue entred y ^e walls, or come within the gates: and had Narbonus knowē y ^t Wittenberge had bin so [Page 36] full of wiles, or this studie any thing so tedious, he would neuer haue tarried the turning ouer of three leaues, or the reading of one Author.

Truth Sir, but you haue bought your witte before it was taughte, and payde for your learning more than is woorth: but the coult must be vsed to the bitte before he come to the saddle, and the wanton whelp must be taught to carrie a gloue, before he diue at a Ducke.

I Eubulanus, had I beene restrained like a Coult, I had not prooued my selfe such an asse: and had my liberty bene lackinge, as wisedome would it should: my dooinges had not prooued so foolishe, nor my pretences so vaine: but as I pay deare for my learning, so is my sorrow the greater: and as my coste was chargeable, so is my minde mooued with the spending of my lyuing: but time already passed cannot bée called backe, and the Tide tarieth not the ley­sure of any man.

Well quoth Eubulanus, your fall wil prooue your feli­citie, and better now bee taught your tricke of training, then hereafter haue prooued your painefull repenting.

In déede answered Narbonus, first wit, and then wise­dome, to haue is good hap, and to hold fast a great vertue: for Narbonus could haue sayd thou hast it: but now he can not say thou holdest it.

Truely Sir replied the other: Your Unckles careful consideracion, will be the cause of your consolation: and to submitte your selfe duetifully, will both purchase you pardon, and make you bee deemed of, as your selfe will desire.

In déede answered Narbonus, hée that yéeldeth, is often saued: but I will not onely submit my selfe, but also due­tifully doo whatsoeuer my good Unckle shall commaund mee.

With these prety propoundings, and pleasant replies, their iourney seemed shorter, and their trauaile not so te­dious: but when they ariued at their iourneyes end and came into the house of Henricus, Narbonus was doubtfull [Page 37] what to say, how to frame his wordes, or in what order to vtter them, in what manner to submit him selfe, and how his Unckle would take the matter: but spying in the end his Unckle comming towards him, could not hold his eyes from weeping, and his hearte from throbbing, to whome he spake.

Sir, the prodigall childe, after the ri [...]tous spending, and wilfull wasting of his carelesse goodes, humbly sub­mitting himselfe, and crauing pardon for his faults, was receyued into fauour as before, and obteyned pardon, that deserued for euer to be reiected. Alexander the great neuer put any to the sword that yéelded to his person, or asked mercie at his hands. Anthony submitting himselfe, and offering to die before the Emperour that sought hys death, and pronounced his punishment, was receyued in­to former fauour, and restored to his auntient dignities. My merites déere Uncle deserue no lesse than for euer to be reiected out of your fauour: and my doings if right were rewarded with iustice, haue gayned me your euer­lasting displeasure: but presuming vpon youre patience, and suing my pardon before so mercifull a Iudge, I néede no solicitor to moue my case, or any Atturney to answere but my selfe, but that your goodnesse hath gayned me vn­deseruedly, that my vngratiousnes shoulde neuer haue merited: and with those words, the teares trickled so fast downe his chéekes, and his thoughts so troubled his giltie conscience, as he could not speake any more, or vtter the effect of his meaning.

His good Unckle at the sight whereof was so moued with compassiō, and touched at the quicke, as his inward griefe did counteruayle Narbonus outwarde teares, hée therefore embracing him, and holding him betwéene his armes? saide:

Déere Nephew, that which is passed already, can not now be called backe to bee amended: and that whiche is done, can not be vndone againe: to record them therefore in order, or turne them ouer from poynt to parcel, would [Page 38] be a great gréefe to you, & not any pleasure to me: My selfe I know was sometimes yong as thy selfe, and no doubt those pleasures then liked me, which now do delight thee: but let herafter my wisdome rule thée being vnresonable, and my instructions perswade thée being holesom for thy health: for that which is past, I drowne it in the floud of forgetfulnesse, and neuer pretend to make rehearsal of it again: cōfort therfore thy wéery spirits & be careful of thy own safegard, so shalt thou find me a faithful freend, and one y ^t séeketh thy wished desires as wel as thy self: Thus was his good Unckle pacified with his humble submissiō, and him selfe contented to heare his pardon pronounced.

Thus is Narbonus now in Vienna againe, free from the checkes of any, and cleare of the penalties done to his creditours: where hee turneth ouer his time, and accom­panieth some of equall disposition to his owne, and some contrary his callinge, yet some flatterers, some foysters, some coggers, some cauellers, some brablers, some braw­lers, some dissemblers, some daungerous, some Cater­pillers, some courteous, some faithfull, some faithlesse, some honestly disposed, some maliciously minded, some sure fréends, some rancke rebels: There resorted to him as well the Droane, as the Bée: as well the Spider, as the Flie: as well the Kyte, as the Dooue: but Narbonus had learned his stop Galiarde, and could as satiably sooth, as soberly solace, for hée payd for his practise, and lent li­berally, for small vsury: Among the rest of the fragrant flowers and sweet Uiolets that folowed Narbonus, and ac­companied him alwaies: there was a Gentleman named Phemocles, of behauiour honest, and of grace grateful, for Parentage one of the best, and for wit sufficiently stored: with lyuinge well furnished and with good qualities very well indued: These two Youths grew into acquaintance and familiarity, and so into lykinge and loue: and from well lykinge to such amity, and confederacy of fidelity, as they missed not one daye where there was not some gra­tulation or a litle feruency of fidelity demonstrated from [Page 39] eache to other. On a time taking the holesom ayre, & wal­king in y ^e wilde féelds, where not so much as a bush should be partaker of their praiers, or a bird be acquainted with their doings, Narbonus spake vnto Phemocles as foloweth.

My beloued Phemocles, as there is not any weale which is not mixed with some wo: no felicity, but some way fe­derated with instabilitie: no auncient amity, but tyed to­gether with some trechery, by reasō of some freendly foes: or by y ^e mutability of fickle fortune: so we whose weale is not y ^e worst, whose happines not y ^e lest: whose freendship not faithles, must fortify our fantasies against dangerous dealings, as we neither be drawne with their drugs, nor inticed with their trumperies: neither allured to their lustes, nor infranchised to their follyes: neither won to their wiles, nor wedded to their wantōnes: neither trust­ing to their trifles, nor tied to their toyes: If they assault vs with societie, we wil kepe them company, & dissemble our amitie: if they seke vs, wee will shun them: if they follow vs, wee will fly from them: if by chaunce against our choice, we willingly walke with them: we may pro­test our olde profession, & fained some fickle excuse to de­part, and auoyd them: for where there are many, there is maliciousnesse: & where great company, small constan­cie: When we are in the Towne, we must walke ciuely: when in the Féelds, disport our selues with honesty: whē in the streats, talke soberly: whē close in our Chambers, vse mirth and melodie: when amongst cōpany, fare as if we loued al alike: when by our selues manifest the depth of our desires: the one wil be greatly for our credite & ho­nestie, the other will double our ioyes, and put all suspi­tion to exile and infamie: I speake Phemocles by experi­ence, as I prooued smally for my profite, as you are not ignorante, for that my doings are manifest. When I was in Wittenberge I wanted there no wayters, we heere in Vienna néede woo for no suters: you sée what resorte wée retaine, and what fellowes doe fawne on vs, what a traine doth tr [...]upe by vs, and how many hang on our [Page 40] sléeues? more for fauour, than for fancie: more for sub­stance, than for our safetie: more for gaine, than for good­nesse: more for that they thinke to coyne some commodi­tie, than truly to testifie their faithfulnesse and honestie: in time they may winne vs to their willes, and allure vs to their alleageances: in time they may cause vs to like that we hated, and loath that which we loued: in time they may frame vs to their follies, and gaine vs to perfourme that which we vtterly reiected: to auoyde therefore an imminent danger, is a warrant of wisedome: and to flie the faculties of flatterers, deserueth no little prayse, but great commendations: we may beare a faire face to all, but not ioyne in amitie with any: welcome all, but bid none stay dinner: embrace all courteouslie, but reward all slenderly, for our owne affaires, and our owne busines whatsoeuer: what my litle helpe may stand you in stead: what my smal substance may pleasure you: what my de­uices may profite you: I shall be as willinge to imploy, as you are to craue my helpe: as gladly to obey, as you gracious to commaund: as prest at all times to fulfill al things: as you desirous at any time to compell me what­soeuer: and for my faith towardes your fauour, you shall finde it as bountifully bestowed in euery respect, as your heart can wish, or your selfe desire: And if Damon were faithfull to Pithyas: if Lepidus to Laelius: if Pilades to O­restes: In like manner shal Narbonus be faithfull to Phe­mocles, while life doth last, and til death seperate our two bodies: in pawne of which pledge, I can gage you no o­ther but my hand in the habite of my harte, and were my hart so franckly to be offered, as my hand ready to be ren­dred, it should be as bountifully pawned, as I haue duti­fully demonstrated.

Phemocles longe expected this maidenly motion, and harkened a great while for that preached Sermon: and at that very instant had resolued him selfe, to haue made the price, if hée had not bidden so faire for the bargaine: but his determination bare alwayes this imagination, [Page 41] that to resolue was better then to propound and paye for the price, easier then to set sale in a Market, to whom hee repaide this resolution, and gratefully requited with this courteous Conge.

Sir Narbonus, you made the demaunde, and I am to reply an answere: which had you not asked since we made our meetinge, I should haue requested before our depar­ting: your instructions are so comfortable, and your me­ditacions so medicinable, as I may neither leaue the one nor forsake the other: your perfect approbations by expe­rience of your bought witte, and my wisedome vnpayed for, doe serue for a profitable prerogatiue, for so simple a Sophist, as hath neither learned his rules of Rethorick, nor discouered his carde of Collusion: our Towne in déed is so fraughted with a frontire of fooles, so larded with lubbers of the laieitie, so tapistred with shiftinge shaue­linges, and nosegay Nunnes, and so powdred with pick­thankes in their publique profession, that when a man thinketh hee hath God by the hande, hée hath the Diuell by the héele. Thus wée liue like the birde that is nouri­shed vnder the Crocadiles mouth, when wée thinke our selues most sure, then in déepest daunger: and when our state most staide, then most tickle: As for you that haue felt the hand of Hercules, may easily indure a tacke with a twigge, but Phemocles whose phisicke hath no néede to be tried by purgations, nor certaintie, proued by any ma­ner of subtiltie, is so tied to your trustinesse, and bound to your bosome, that distill him what drench you will, and he is content to drinke it, or proue him by what meanes you list, and he is willing to abide it: and this towne re­tayneth Doctors phisicall, and Phisitions crumenicall, the one for the bodily paine, the other for the pursely pleasure, wherof though you wanted not in Wittenberge, yet we will auoide them in Vienna: my proofe is no priui­ledge, and my knowlege without practise, the one I lear­ned but a little, and the other I haue it by heresay. To ac­knowledge acquaintance, is a motion that procéedeth [Page 42] from the heart of some. Againe, others make an outward shew, when they meane nothing lesse: for my part, your goodnesse hath gained so deepe a deuotion in the bowels of my heart, as the dores shall neuer be opened to any other whatsoeuer: and as the wife of Demetrius, who disdeined not to runne Lackeylike by the louing side of hir swéete husband, in that tedious time of his turmoyling trauell: in like maner shall Phemocles not refuse to carrie the crosse of Narbonus in his vnfortunate afflictions, but take his teritorie toyles, tempered with the state of instabili­tie, as a platforme of prowesse in so simple a Souldioure, that workes without the wiles of craftie coniurations, and deales without the counsaile of any fine Southsayer: And as your friendly faith is federated without any spot of infamie: your dealings, without desarts of my doings: your aleageances, without my alurements: your perfect promises, without my painefull perfourmances: so as far as my rules will reach, and my mind moue me, my fideli­tie shall shew my fancie: my triall shall pronounce me no Traytour: my faith vnfalsified, shall manifest me no o­ther, than a trusty Troylus: though I soare high, yet will not I proue haggardlike, but stoupe to the lure of loialtie, to the very féete of your courtesie: but to daunt of a mans doings is varletlike, and to boast brauelie, in faining to be friendly, is foolish faith without any signe of feruen­cie, and a coyning of curiositie, with shew of little perfor­mance as may be: but yet thinke not that I can eyther lie for my liberty, nor prate partially: neither argue agility, nor staine sternitie: nor proudely perticipate my periudi­cialitie, nor ranckly royst it with beastlinesse and braue­rie: but assure your selfe, that my doings shall be ioyned with the hope of honestie, to do the dutie of a deuoute Uo­tarie, and in place of Agere, to put Satisfacere: with might and maine, with heart and hande, with tooth and nayle, neuer ceasse to serue you, and neuer leaue off to prosecute your pleasure: and if the imperfection of my abilitie may sufficiently satisfie the desire of your loyaltie, beléeue me [Page 43] if you list, no one in y ^e world whomsoeuer, shall cause mee change my choyce, nor retire in my reentrie, selling my selfe slaue vnto your person, & yeelding you that which no others shall possesse: for y ^e faithful perfourmance of which promises, and the true meaning of my cleere conscience, take héere my right hand, that member next my heart, a reward altogither insufficient, and too simple a dish for so worthy a Maister: and could I giue you better, you should not haue worse God is my Iudge, whom I call as wit­nesse, to testifie my troth, and manifest my mind plighted to your person, and rendred to your gratious goodnesse.

Behold here Gentlemen a lincked league of amiable a­mitie, with a quicke confederacie, & spéedy dispatch of two friends earst vnknowen, now so ioyntly ioyned, & so per­fectly vnited, as no meanes shal make mutabilitie, or any deuice dissolue their amitie: no bale, that shal be bitter, n [...] fortune froward, no chance that shal be chapman in their choyce: no griefe aggrauate their glorie, nor any diuelishe déedes of dissention sowen amidst the forrowes of their faith, that shal hinder the felowship of their fidelitie, or by any meanes vndoe the linckes of their loyaltie, but that which shall grow for their gréedie gaines, and certainely serue for their security in what affaires soeuer, frowning fortune be interchangeably annexed.

These plights of parliance ended, with the contents of couenants, and the ioyning of hearts and hāds, they both departed the floured fields, and pleasant pastures, as well contented, as they desired, & as fully satisfied, as they both wished. Going into the Towne to dinner, they fed on the confections of their preter promises, & glutted thēselues with their former talke, the rest of the day they spente in their antiēt customes, & swéet talkings. Drawing toward night, & that the day waxed néere spent, each gaue to other y ^e Baselos manus, & a fréendly farewel for y ^e night: and hard it was to be adiudged, whether Narbonus for his péereles purchased freend, & louing cōpaniō were best cōtented, or Phemocles for y ^e inward insolutiō of his preoptated desire, [Page 44] or most fauourable felicie best pleased: but this is most certaine, and the truth very manifest, that the interiour instigation of the habitation of the heart, or the resting place of the thoughts was so rauished with the remem­brance of their most delightfull daliances, or new concey­ued ioyes, that their hearts coulde wish to haue, or their soules desired to sée, was for the time so senselesse, or void of any feeling, as if the mind moued as it were with hea­uenly motions, or filled with angelicall contemplations, were drawne from earthly thoughts, and called from ter­restriall cogitations, into the heauenly harbour of al hap­pinesse, or the priuate Paradise of most deyntie deuises. But hauing put on their former perplexitie, and digested those pleasant drugges, they were after so armed with a­morous amplifications, and so drowned in their former preambulations, as melancholies for a season was vtter­lye abolished, and all bitter heauinesse vanished out of their stomackes, and their thoughts dropped with honny, that earst were gorged with gall: Thus fared it with our two friends, and thus swamme they in their secure safe­ties: Narbonus woulde not haue changed his choyce, or sought such another friend, to gaine so much goodes as he before forfaited, or to finde moe iewels, than his backe would beare: As for Phemocles, his case better liked him, than if he should haue gayned all the wealth of Cressus, or had all the passing pearles of Arabia.

Narbonus came to his Chamber after his former fa­shion, and olde accustomed manner, thinking to trie the strings of his louing Lute, or to fill his eares with Mu­sicke as he had done, but his hearte hopped so without a Harp, and daūced in delights without a Musition, as if he had then bin maried with some dayntie delights, or vsing something for his felicitie, the greatest in the world.

Phemocles departed also to his stately stacion, or earth­ly mansion: where in stead of rest, he was receaued with reioysing: and for his bed and boulster, the late battaile of their imbracinges bounced so in his braines, and trou­bled [Page 45] so his toyish thoughtes, as hee iested of his ioy to him selfe, and laughed with inward lust of his happy felicity: if the one were daunted with inestimable desires, and drowned in the dewe of terestriall triumphes: the other was fatted with the fruition of his fantacies, & abolished the beauty of all other braueries, bathing himselfe in the beatitude of that protrated picture, and seemely Sainct: which though hee bare it not in his shining shielde, yet he ware it in the wombe of his harte, and kept it in as pri­uily as a Iewell of great price: Who can best saye for o­thers safety, and best praise others perfection, spareth not for speaking, neither tarieth for intreating: and the more to augmēt their antiquity of amity, and prolong the lēgth of their loyalty, they were not euery houre in their Oratories, nor euery morninge in their méetinges, not euery day in their daunces, nor alwaies in their daliaun­ces: for who hath not the faculty of this facility? or who not the knowledge of this plaine misery, that a litle ab­sence maketh a déepe desire, and the restraining of beeing togeather, maketh the méetinge more ioyfull? for they so tempered their affections, and so dyeted their desires, that euery méetinge was as gainefull as the first, and euery gréeting as benificiall as the frontire of their felicity: If they met, it was by méere chaunce, and they neuer poyn­ted any time of parlyance: their departure was with [...]aynefull protestations, and their encountering with a­miable affiances: they tooke their leaues, as if they should haue left their liues, where at their next méeting, their hearts hopped like the carefull Captaine comming home with conquest, or reioysed like him that had escaped the hands of his enimies: for, is the extremitie of the passion of the Citizen comparable the vnspeakeable reioysing of the Souldioure? no trust me, for the ioy of the one is at all times alike, and not greater this day, than the morow fo­lowing alwayes without danger of death, and euer with­out losse of liuing: but the other hauing escaped the scou­ring, or bidden the brunt, returneth with triumph, fur­thered [Page 46] with felicity, reuiued (as it were) from the graue: therfore reioyceth without measure, and his gladnes as much as may be thought. But fortune disdayning their happy felicitie, and enuious at their prosperous procee­dinges, murmuring at the multitude of their mirth, and hating their heauenly happines: frowning at the goodnes of their gladnesse, and hauinge in contempt the depth of their desasters, caused their seperation by a quicke dis­patch, and prouided their departures so sodainly, as might be, found a meanes to put the one far enough from the other, and had a deuice to make them part company, ima­gined a craft to make a daungerous distance of their mer­ry méetinges, and inuented a drifte to drowne their doo­ing for a time: And no maruaile if it were so, for what is otherwise? is not the flowre to day finely flourishing: to morrow stamped vnder féete? the trée in sommer fresh and gréene, in winter naked, and bitten with frost? the Hart with his haughty hornes, fat and faire, shortly after colde and ready to sterue: the man that to day bounceth in brauery, to morrow marcheth in the vale of misery: do we not commonly see the stout tyrant to day persecuting, to morrow to stand to the mercy of his inferiours? to day in Fortunes lap, to morrow in the mire of misery? Wée haue but two chaunces, and both wee cannot inioy togea­ther, good, or euill: happy, or vnfortunate: blessed, or cursed: wisedome should eyther shew vs thus much, or reason rule vs to vnderstand this secrecy: to day we haue, to morow we had: to day men, to morrow lumps of earth: to day in the highest habitacion of felicity, to morow in y ^e lowest sincke of aduersity: the infant dyeth, the olde foole tarieth stil: the gréene grasse withereth, the toughe olde trée abideth still in his place: as cōmonly goeth the little Lambe to the slaughter, as the olde Oxe to th butchery: let vs not be deceiued with the mutability of the one, nor be­guiled with y ^e vncertainty of the other: after the vncom­fortable night, comes the cleare day: after wallowinge waues, and sturdy stormes, quiet calmes, & swéet gales: [Page 47] after tedious trauailes, temperate tastes: after misery, mirth: after Melancholy, melody: after bitter bale, blis­full beatitude: as wee cannot inioy both, so must we per­force want one: our lincked louers, whose fancies were their foode: whose delightes their desires: whose wishes their welfare: whose ioy was the greatest: & whose gra­uity the least: swam al this while in the seas of security, & marched in the frontire of felicitie, were forced to fly the féeld of their confederacy, and resigne the banners of so­ciety, to time the only meanes to enioy their auncient a­mity, & to finde out the happines of their former felicitie: they had al this while tasted the apple, but not touched the rinde, crackt the nut for the curnell, but let fall the shell: gathered the grapes, & left the leaues: But now y ^e Drum soundeth, and the Pipe plaies lofte to depart: for y ^e father of Phemocles enuying at the lasy life of his loitring sonne, and desirous to haue him better busied in the spendinge of his time, determined to sende him to Naples, to learne the Italian tongue, which would greatly profite him as hee imagined: to whom findinge at conuenient leysure, and time to vnfolde the effecte of his meaninge, hee spake as foloweth, and vttered these wordes.

Sonne Phemocles, hée that alwayes abideth by the fire side, or in the warme house, litle knoweth how hard­ly hée can abide the freesing frostes, or cold blastes of win­ters windes, to remaine alwaies within the Citty, or to abide still in the Towne, is no meanes to prooue a good Courtier, or to sée such seruice as the Prince desireth: to marche in a Meddow amongst maydens, or to lye lulling in the lappes of Ladyes, is not the way to prooue a good Souldier, or to be practised in the feates of Armes, thou fightest here but with thy fancy, & striuest with thy owne estate: thou alwaies hopest, but neuer gainest: y ^u thinkest, to attaine somewhat, but findest iust nothinge: the fruiti­on of thy fréedome, is no light of thy lyuing, nor the inioy­inge that thou already haste, a meane to make it more, vnlesse thy vsinge were put to working, and thy sauinge [Page 48] to encrasing: the money in thy pursse will not encrease, but the bay salt will grow as it lieth: thy little knowledge seeking for no more experience, will profite very slowly, but thy witte being wrested, may in time winne thée great wealth: the wearing away of thy goodly yeares without commoditie, and the leesing of thy time without any vtilitie, thou wilte héereafter repent, and wish thou hadst bin forced more for thy felicitie. As thou wantest knowledge, so lackest thou also wisedome, and with the atteyning of the one, thou shalte easily finde the way to gaine the other: and as thou wantest vnderstanding, so must thou proue with paines, and not thinke to winne it with wishing: I speake not to the end to haue thée eyther Souldioure or seruitour: neyther rouer nor royster: ney­ther Courteour nor Caterpiller: but in going, thou mayst gaine, and yet not get without paine, and thy pain doubt­lesse will preferre thée to profite, and thy profit wil proue so for thy pleasure, as thy gaine shall not seeme painefull, nor thy profite hurtfull. Understand thou therefore, and be it knowē vnto thée, that the better to talke with stran­gers, and the easier to answer many demandes, the more profitable for thy parentage, and the greater comendable for thy Countrey, the more to pleasure thy selfe, and the better to delight me: then take thy iourney to Naples, and leaue thy naturall seate this Citie, there to learne the I­talian toung, and to sée the fashions of that Countrey, a place as I imagine as likely for thy learning, as prompt for thy profite, yet perhappes more beutified with braue­rie, than subiect to the rules of honestie, excéeding full of curtesie, and filled with filed flattery: more coy then come­lie, and yet more comely than commendable: their faces painted like y ^e Appothecaries pot, shineth outwardly, but poysoned inwardly: and were their doings correspondent to their sayings, their companyes were to bee craued, where now it is to be hated. When thou shalte be come thither, & stayed in the Towne, looke not on their painted postes, nor haue any regard to their wanton windowes: [Page 49] gaze not on their garish girles, nor listen not to their Si­renes songes, whose Lutes will entice thée to lust, and their musicke moue thee to do that thou after repent: thou shalt find there new fangles, and trifling toyes: tibbes and trulles: knauerie and bawdery: villanie and varietie: But as thou hast eyes to behold these things, so hast thou also a Soule to thinke vpon to saue: for let it be no sooner knowen of thy arriuall, and iudging thée to be a stranger, but the next morning, or happily that same nighte, some Curtizan will salute thée with a swéete song vnder thy window, or else with a Citherne at thy Chamber dore: but giue no eare to such gratulations, nor haue any re­gard to those salutations, reward hir slenderly with some little péece of Siluer, or pay hir that shal not counteruaile hir trauell, so mayest thou perhappes be dispatched of a Strumpet, and léese the company of a beastly body: but if thou séeme to dallie, or to make any accompt of hir, thou shalt euer bee troubled with hir sight, or mollested with hir sound, woon with hir swéete wordes, or allured with hir louing lookes: deceyued with hir painted pride, or de­lighted with hir pretie posies: hir eyes as good as fishing baites, and hir handes holde like limetwigges. If societie assaile thée to craue the company of some trusty Titus, or gaine the good will of some faithfull Iesippus: thou must beare two heades in one hoode, or bee repaied treble for single: & once gained loue that he liketh, his louer excep­ted, or his Lady only restrayned, and then, except thou canst flatter, thou must not liue, and whome thou ac­quaintest thy selfe withall, or makest thy companyon, wil looke to crow ouer thée, or goe aboute to mainteine some mischiefe against thée: therefore to liue without any of them, and to vse them al alike, were the best in my mind, and the surest for thy safegard. Couldest thou so temper thy traditions, and frame thy fragilitie to worke thy vti­litie, for let him disdeine thy doings, or loath thy loyaltie, if in working thy owne welfare, thou vnwillingly trou­ble his testy temperance: if in gaining thy gratious glory [Page 50] in any respect, y ^u gratify not his gredy gulfe, to his cōtent­ment though smally to thy easement: if in talkinge thou trouble him, or in walking thou wring him, in speakinge to any thou giue not him leaue to bée before thée, or in sa­luting thou suffer him not be first satisfied, thou shalt pur­chase thee his displeasure, and win him thy ennimy: in banquetinge thou must spend franckly, and in feastinge féede him finely: one waye thy curtesie will increase thy care, & the other way thy loyalty augment thy sorow: thou must sooth him swéetly & praise him with perpetuity: beare a braine as if thou wouldest banquet him, & make boast of his brauery: flatter him to his face, and dissemble with him to his very lips: For if by thy honest behauiour thou purchase him thy péere, or by thy goodnes thou gaine his gratitude: by thy loyalty, thou purchase his liberty: by thy honest desertes, thou win him as thou wouldst wish: Alas, when thou hast fished so longe, thou shalt finde but a Frogge, and gained what thou canst gette: thou shalt [...] haue but a flittinge fréende, or a faithles foe: thou shalte reape but Cockell for thy corne, and Thistles in the stead of Grapes: Brambles in the place of Apples, and Briers in the roome of Figges: for when to do him any pleasure thou mayest, thou shalt happely displeasure thy selfe, the least looke, or the smallest worde, the least dicurtesie, or the smallest qualitye, the leaste frumpe, or the smallest frowarde face will procure him practise thy perdicion, and sell thy selfe to some Lozell, hired for a litle lucre, and rather then faile, or bee deceiued of his purpose, hée will himselfe vnder the pille of an Apple, conuey a dram of poyson, or foyst some Figge to seale thee a Pasporte of farewell to thy fréends, or giue thee some drench of little delight, good for the Bottes, but yll for the belly: then must his haire bee curled after the cutte, or frizled after the finest fashion, his Mouchachos, Turkylony like, and his Beard his God, his belly boulsfred as their fashion is, and his Rapier after the newest deuice: his face must be washed and froathed, and his ruffes séemely [Page 51] set: his Hose brusshed, and his Shooes wiped: then wal­keth hee so mannerly, and treadeth so stately: marcheth so warily, and saluteth so courteously, that you will saye hee resembleth a Saincte, when in troth hee is as prowd as Lucifer: if hee espye you to talke with his wife, to vse conference with his Louer, or to mooue any question to her whom hée calles his fréend, you may then looke for his rusty Rapier to rumble in your belly, or his stubbed Poy­nard to giue you the Stabbado, you neuer the wiser, and hee little the better: I speake not to this ende Phemocles, neither imagine my meaning to bée such, that thou shoul­dest refraine all company, or remaine alwaies in the Me­lancholy chamber, but admonish thee whom thou inter­tayne, and of whom thou art intreated: with whom thou accompany, and with whom thou art acquainted: whom thou choose thy freend, and how thou shalt finde few faith­full: As I would haue thee liberall, so would I not haue thee lauishe: as spend, so not spoile: as willinge, so not wilfull: as for play, I know thee to be no gamester: and for drinking, no Tauerne hunter: thou maist for recrea­cion vse the Tennis Courtes, and the dauncing Scholes, to refresh thy weary spirites: but the Theaters in any wise refraine, and all such mischeuous motions: and here in the benificiality of my blessings, and as you wil retayn mee your fatherly fréend: refraine the company of Cur­tizans, and disdaine the fellowship of Harlots, who will quickly péere in your pocket, and empty your purse: laugh in your face, and cut your throte: professe you great good will, and worke you some villany: to abandon your body to their brauery, you shall sell your soule to the Diuell: I will therfore with your consent, & in that it is likely to be profitable your estate, that such necessaries as are want­inge be with spéede prouided, and those things which you haue not, may hastely be made ready: for in prolonginge your pilgrimage, you doo but delay your desires, and the thinge once gained that you goe for, so spéedy returne may be made as shall seeme good in your likinge.

[Page 52] Phemocles stoode all the pronouncing of this penaltie, and the reading of this enditement, like the picture of S. Peeter, or the image that Pigmalion wrought: for this he wayed in his wauering minde, and cast these doubtes in the habitation of his head, that to depart from him whose company he craued so much, and to forsake that good fe­lowship of his late purchased fréend, for whose sake, he would with Orpheus haue gone downe into Hell, or haue ventred to gaine the golden fléece, or to haue tryed his strength with Gorgons head, to haue had his happie desi­red fréende with him, or to vse his good instructions in that tedious trauell, and long voyage: then contrariwise, the request of his father was so prestricte, and his com­mands so streight, to denie which motion, or to gainesay his pretence, would cause him be disliked, whiche before was so well loued: he armed therefore his amorous mind with the heritage of hope, and fenced his fancie with the frendship of a fauourable returne. So soone as he had bought his bargaine, or learned his lesson, yet the time he knewe would séeme tedious, though it were but halfe a yeare, and that too long, had it bin lesse, but that he min­ded should be the most, and the vttermost day should not be more, but he reckned without his host, and tolde his cards false, the more his griefe, as afterwarde it proued, and the greater his sorow, as after it ensued, he shaped therefore this resolute answere, and replyed as foloweth.

Deere Father, I should séeme eyther very prodigious to renounce your reasonable request, or very mallaparte to bragge before I haue bidden the battaile, eyther very foolish to deny your demaundes, or very doultish to driue of doubtes with delayes: eyther very froward to frowne at your francke proffer, or very lowtishe not to listen to your lessons: for dutifully to obey, is but the part of an o­bedient sonne, and to gainesay the institutions of so trac­table a Schoolemaister, were the parte of an vntowarde Scholler, and a great signe neuer to prooue a Doctor: the one will yéeld mée contentacion, and giue mee delight, the [Page 53] other drowne mée in dispaire, and be a meane to cast mée into the exile of your freendly fauour, then the which, no one thing can bee more hurtfull to my estate, or greater against my profite and preferment: for hauinge lost your fauour, and gained your displeasure, who will procure mée a plaister in my greatest gréefe, or yeelde me remedy for my frailty in the multitude of my miserye: by you I holde, by you I hope: by you I enioye that which other­wise I had not: by you I liue & lacke not: by you I wish and wante not: by you my care is comfortable, which o­therwise should bee incommodious: by you my health is happy, which otherwise should bee daungerous. How happy is the vnfortunate childe which hath a carefull Fa­ther? and how blessed that Sonne that hath a gracious Patron? but how much is Phemocles bound to the celesti­all God, whose Father is as faithfull as carefull, & more carefull then his courtesie deserueth, or are euer likely to merite. But Sir, if I misse not my marke, and that my Carde deceiue mee not, my vnremoouable minde in this respect is fully resolued to prosecute your pleasure, and to spende that my troublesome time in such honest order, and so for my profite, as may redound greatly to your good likinge, and not a litle to my preferment: pleaseth you therfore to lend mée that liberty, and to graunt mée which erst you promised, that my tongue once attained, and my studie finished, I may returne as hastely, as now I must depart spéedily. I am ready so soone as it pleaseth you to furnish mée, and stand at your gracious commaund ready to depart: As touching the T'rulles of Naples, and their trifling toyes, I shall perhaps be in their Aue maria, but I will neuer procéede so far as their Creede: they shal not looke so louingly, but I will bende my browes as bitterly: they shall not talke so swéetely: but I will answere as shrewdly: they shall not singe so pleasantly, but I will faine as flatteringly: if they haunt mée, I wil hunt them: when they call quickly, I will come as slowly, & rather I will bee tyed to a poste, as was Vlisses, or stop my [...]ares [Page 54] as did his men: then be either lured with their lookes, or wonne with their wiles, their flattering shall not make mee faine, nor their wordes cause mee be wanton: their lookes shal not win my likinge, nor their lust get my loy­alty: their brauery shall not cause mee to blaze in beastli­nes, nor their paintinge to be prowde in péeuishnesse. As for their gallants the ( Neapolitane Gentlemen) my ac­quaintance shal not be costly, nor my méeting stately: let them prance it in pride vpon their pounced pantaffles, I will bounce it after our fashion with my shoes and bus­kins: let them bumbast their bellies, I will retayne my slashed hose: let them weare their glistering Rapiers, I will weare my short sword: let their Ladies vse the van­ting of Venus, or the flattering of Flora: the lewdenesse of Layis, or the vnshamefastnesse of Mirrha: the filthinesse of Pasiphae, or the diuelish desires of Heroydas: al their trum­peries, all their toyes, all their protestations, al their pre­rogatiues, all their sorceries, all their sophistries, al their haggish harmonie, all their diuelish melodie, can not stirre the mind of Phemocles to a Strumpet, nor entice him to the trecherie of a Traytour: But happily you wil thus re­plie, or make me this answers: Phemocles is fleshe as well as others, and made of the substance of other men: flesh indéede, but yet no morsell for such deintie mouthes, nor foode fine ynough for such trimme trulles: they shall trie me eare they tast me, and in eating they will hardly digest me: one cause is, bycause I am not powdered for their purpose, nor crammed for their chappes: the other, that in tasting, they shall find me as bitter as gall, and in drincking a dole drench for such doltish dotards. But alas Phemocles, thou layest on loade now the enimie is away, thou throwest downe Mountaynes before thou camest néere them: thou wilt kill the Diuell, yet neuer dealtst with his damme, God grant thou be not bewitched with their wiles, nor weand before thou hast sucked: the little Lamb skippes and leapes, till the Foxe come in place, then he quiuers and quakes, trembles and shakes, cra­ueth [Page 55] help so well as he can, and maketh moane after his maner: thou pratest before thou prouest, and tatlest be­fore thou triest: thou dreadest no danger on the dry groūd, but on the Sea, Shipwracke makes thée shiuer: the trée maketh no noyse before it fall, and thou doest not com­plaine, till thou art caught: the Beare danceth before the Dogges are on hir backe, and thou regardest not thy mo­ney before thou come into the handes of Theeues: thou héere in Vienna doest vaunt with any, when thou arte in Naples thou wilt crie creake like a Cocke that is crauen: in Naples the fruite is outwardly painted, God grant it be inwardly putrified: the Damsels in Naples are as daintie as swéete meates, but it is well if they proue so holesome as sower sauce: the men ruffle in their robes of purple and veluets, yet I feare me they carrie double. P. about them, and neuer a Pater noster, God grant thée Phemocles to bargaine with neyther of both.

The good man his Father all the time of this treatise, & the saying of this Sermon, stoode listining to the lure of this trained traueller, and hearkening diligentlye to that which he had spoken: and when he had ended this his Oratorie, and declared the effect of his meaning, his Father granted for his returne, the choyce to be in him­selfe, and that gained which he went for, to come so soone as he would: fortifying therefore himselfe against all the furies of his fancie, he put on the armour of forgetful­nesse, and so marched vnder Captayne Contentus, not so well pleased as hée would haue wished, nor so surely ea­sed, as hée woulde haue desired. His father for his spéedie dispatche prepared euerie particular thing for so contra­rie a iourney, and all necessaries whatsoeuer for his spéedie dispatche: but amongst other extraordinaries, his friende Narbonus, had hée knowen how, or by what meanes, he would gladly haue put him into his portman­tue, or trussed him vp in his pocket. But, alas, this iour­ney was so soone chopped vp, & prouided with such hast, as not so much leysure was left, or so much time spared, [Page 56] as to giue a friendly farewell, or bid adue from one to the other, whiche no doubt was great gréefe to their galled consciences, and a heauie burthen for them equally to beare: for Narbonus was at that vnfortunate time out of the Towne to dispatch some businesse for his Unckle, the grater his griefe, the more the others sorow: and Phemo­cles when he was taking his horse, and euen vpon going went to take leaue of his second life, and to giue the fare­well to his déere fréende, but he was quite beside the cus­shion, and his expectation was frustrate, which encreased his iolytie like the panges of death, & reuiued his spirits, as if hee should haue receiued his last reward: for he was now on horse backe, & had takē leaue of his Father, ther­fore to write would but bréede some suspicion in his Fa­thers ielous head, and to importe his message to any, hee imagined was but a deuice of small certainty: therfore resolued him selfe to defer that determination, and staye his writinge till time would better serue, and place more fit to vse his practise: hee therfore departed smally satis­fied, and as yll contented.

Now is Phemocles in his wide study, as broad as the high way to Naples, greatly troubled with the leauinge of his new faithfull fréend, and then the departure from his Father troubled him somwhat: thē was he not vnminde­full of his olde acquaintaunce, and of the residue of his kinsfolkes: now hee thinketh on the brauery of Naples, and then of the comly Curtizanes he should behold there: then of their ritch apparrell, and so of their painted pryde: now of the vsages of their Clergy, and then of the orders of the Laicitie: now of the time hee should gaine his stu­dy, which as hée thought would be but halfe a yeare, then of his returne how hee should bee receiued home againe? These contagious crosse cares afflicted his fancy, yet cau­sed the way to seeme somwhat shorter: and after this his painefull Pilgrimage, hee ariued at Naples, the place hee so longe desired, where hee found the instructions of his Father to be nothinge contrary, neither was he deceiued [Page 57] in his owne imagination: for the paynted walles brought him into a great admiration at Naples: then the wrought windowes, whereout he might beholde a flirting fisgig singing to hir Citherne: then the brauerie of their appa­rell, which was so farre vnlike his attire: then he marked the deuoutries of their deuotion, and then their braue ex­ercises for recreation: almost rauished with these subtill sightes, and welnigh forgetting the effect of his comming, yet framed he in the ende his fangled fancie to beate his braynes about his businesse, for which he had taken so te­dious trauell, and wandred such a wéerie way.

Narbonus at his returning home, after the dispatch of his businesse, and being enfourmed of the suddaine depar­ture of Phemocles, and his hasty voyage the which he was gone, was stricken into such a dump, and moued so with melancholie, as he séemed drowned from any delightes, and exiled from all pleasant conceytes: first he recorded to himselfe the ingratitude of his friend, and the small regard he had to participate it vnto him, that he woulde séeme to depart without taking leaue in his owne person, or not so much as manifest it by some ragged letter: then againe calling to remembrance the obedience towardes his father, and that it behoued him to do no lesse: than that he was at his Unckles house to séeke him, but could not heare of him, he let fall that fancie, and entertained ano­ther in the place thereof: then his owne ill hap troubled him, for his vnfortunate being out of the Towne: then this gréeued him that so foolishly he had put away all his olde friendes, to enterteyne him a stranger, but then throughly acquainted, and so soone to start away: these peruerse cogitations, so troubled him, and his owne con­trarie imaginations so begiled him, as he fared not so wel as he might haue done, nor liked so wel of the matter, but that his inward gréefes appeared by his outward shewes: which his Unckle perceyuing not only by his doings, but also by other manifest signes, who loued him so déerelie, and had his health in so great honour, yet not knowing to [Page 58] remedy his maladie, or what drēch to giue him for his dis­ease, but vsed many sweete word [...], & faire motions, to vn­derstand y ^e effect of his heauines, or y ^e maner of his greefe: but he preuailed so much in his purpose, & gained as much by his enquiring, as if he should haue looked for some fa­mous acte of a dead mā, or heard some swéete sayings pro­ceede forth of the mouth of a new borne infant, which grée­ued him at the gall, & displeased his patience not a little.

Not lōg after this new receiued grief, & suddain gained sicknes, Henricus was requested by a special friend, & mo­ued by one whom he could not deny, to help celebrat a cer­tain feast, & to make vp the messe at a banquet, which he gladly answered to be there, & that he should cōmand him a greater matter, but that his Nephew, his only comfort and greatest ioy was troubled with a melancholy disease, and a fitte of frowardnesse. Reanswered the inuitor:

Why sir I beséech you let him accōpany you, & be your guest, for that y ^e smal company which shal be there, & they my speciall friends, will be pleasantly disposed, & passe the time merily: to y ^e which he willingly agreed, & gaue his ful cōsent, on y ^e conditiō his Nephew would beare a braine, & be merrie in that pleasant passance, & place of recreation: wherto Narbonus cōsented more to féede the humor of his vnckle, thā for any affection he had to the feast: for his sto­macke was yet ful of his new conceiued delights, and his mind glutted with their remēbrāce, which feebled his bo­dy, & altered his fauour, in so much, as he loked very ill, & his stomacke was very bad. But this banquet procured y ^e which he neuer suspected, & chāged this new corsiue to an old sore: for thinking with melody to put away melancho­lie, he brued a bitter bane for his owne drincking, & tooke so much, as he could not disgest it in a lōg time after. The appointed day come, & euery thing prouided, these inuited guests all resorted, as wel Henricus, and Narbonus, as also those other which were bidden: where amongst this cum­lie crue, & courtly companions, there was a yong Gentle­woman which gaue Narbonus such a glance with hir eye, as she pierced a peece of his hart: and the more to encrease [Page 59] this new desire, & to kindle these glowing coales, he was placed so right ouer against hir, as he could not but cast some coūtenāce of fauour, or shew some signe of curtesie. Thus sate he gazing first at the heauenly hue of hir beau­tie, then on the excellencie of hir bountiful brauerie: then wondred he at the greatnes of hir exceeding curtesie: then maruelled he at hir passing good graces: then mused he at y ^e specialtie of hir fine behauiour: then was he rapt with y ^e angelical hue of hir faire face: thē was he astonied to be­hold the intermixed coulours of hir roseal chéekes, then y ^e twinckling of hir eyes did so put out his small lightes; as he could neither behold thē loking on hir, yet durst he not reproue thē for shining in such order. Thus fedde he on y ^e feature of hir face, & could eate nothing, but lokes of loue, nor drincke any thing, but y ^e drāmes of his desires: some­times whē by chance she met him with a loke, or gaue him a counterbuffe at y ^e midle méeting of their eyes, he would blush, as if he shuld not so presume to loke w ^tout licence, or droupe down his head, as being sorie if he had offēded: then musing by what meanes he might haue occasion of parleāce, or vse the meanes to bewray his woes, suddain­ly loking that way, was not fully in the face, & stil pierced farther than at the first: for drincking too often he wanted no cuppes, & for alwayes being carued vnto, no meate on his trēcher: and amōgst other that troubled his trēchers, Fidelia, for so was the Gentlewoman nominated, reached him the wing of a Partrich, & laid it before him, which he so gratefully accepted, & thankefully receiued, as if it had bin Manna sent from Heauen, or some of the meate y ^t the Goddesses fed on: & had it bin poyson cōming frō hir hāds, or some deadly draught, she giuing it, I thinke he would neither refuse to eate y ^e one, or denied to drink y ^e other: for he who as yet neuer laid his lips on y ^e law of loue, nor ne­uer before felt one fit of Cupids craft, was now limed like y ^e litle bird, or takē in y ^e snare of hir beuty: Thus sate Nar. as though he had looked on y ^e head of Medusa, & bin turned to stone: or as if he had always bin fainting, & neuer fallē: But if Nar. were rauished: Fidelia was also betraid, for his [Page 60] lookes as much procured hir delights, as hir eyes fed his greedie desires: for euerie looke she repayed him a liking, and for euery signe she gaue him a crosse greeting: for eue­rie glance she gaue him a gléeke, and for euery cast, she re­quited him with a conge: for euery sigh, she yéelded him a blush: and for euerie looke of loue, she reanswered him a dramme of desire.

This feast ended, and the clothes taken away, thankes giuen to God for his goodnesse, and curtesie yéelded for their friendly fauour, the old Gentlemen, and most anti­ent company fell first to disporting themselues, and to vse their recreations, some to Chests, some to Cardes, some to heare musicke, some to sober talking, some questioned of their estates, some talked of strange Countreys. The yonger sort vsed other exercises, and deused more youth­like pastimes: some passing the day with pleasant discour­ses: some with propounding queint questions: some with fine songs: some with tattling tales: some fell to playing: and some settled themselues to dauncing: amongst which company, Narbonus made vp the number, and serued as one not to be spared amongst the rest: by which meanes, he thought to find oportunitie to talke: and time to vtter his mind to hir that he serued, and the séemely Saint that he held his Candle vnto: the instruments sounding, and the Musicke beginning to moue them, the other yong Gentlemen in order tooke euery man his mistresse, and Narbonus amongst the rest woulde not stande to straine curtesie, but led Fidelia by the faire fist, who séemed not greatly vnwilling, nor striued much to refuse his ientle curtesie: the Almaine ended, and the Musicke ceasing to sound, Narbonus could not restraine any lōger, but spake as foloweth.

Mistresse Fidelia, presuming vpon your courtesie, and nothing doubtfull of your friendly fauour, more boldly perhappes than wisedome would I should, yet not more earnestly than reason willed or woulde, mouing you to take a little paines, and to walke after your late receiued [Page 61] appetite, which may it proue to your contentment, and be gratefull to your goodnesse, Narbonus sufficiently satisfy­ed, and in mind passng well pleased: as for the curtesie of your father, the procurer of my comming, I stand bound to do him seruice howsoeuer, or to pleasure him after my small power.

Alas good Sir, replyed Fidelia, this small pittance and little alowance which you haue héere tasted, and fed per­happes a little, will suffice where there is no better, or hold life and soule togither for the time: but for any dein­ties, or plentie of fine cates, if you did eyther expect or looke for, you were deceiued of the one, and missed of the other, I the more sorowfull, and my father the worse con­tented: but my fathers willing minde and great desire to gratifie his friends, is in déede to be excepted before su­perfluitie of fare, or choyse of dishes, which séeing it hath pleased you so curteously to take, & so gratefully to except, hee I am assured is sufficiently requited and repaid with aduantage: as for my courtesie it is so small, and my gra­titude so simple, neither framed after the finest, nor vsed any way more than ordinarily, but that you are content to yéeld me more commendations than I deserue, or more praise than I am worthy to haue, whiche séeing it hathe pleased you to bestow so bountifully, I accept them as willingly as they were meant honestly.

Then the Uialles sounded a new Measure, which for­ced them to stay their talke, and to leaue in the middle of their bargaine, which ended, and that the other company also talked, Narbonus spake as foloweth.

Mistrisse Fidelia, to yéelde you ingratitude for your kindenesse: or frowardnes for your fréendlines: smal cur­tesy for your great liberality, and litle thankes for your great deserts, were the part of an vnmannerly mate, and a certaine shew of small gentilitie, and as litle honesty: for the greatnes of courtesie is not mixed with any quan­tity of curiositie, neither is honest behauiour to be requi­ted with faithles fidelity, neyther assured affiaunce to bee [Page 62] measured with so slender sinceritye: if the cause bee commendable, the qualitye cannot bee but reasonable: by boul [...]ly vntertakinge this venterous voyage, and comminge to your Fathers house, I haue gayned that which I neuer expected, and found that by chaunce, which of frée will I should neuer looked for, seeing that by the force of fortune, which I hope will breede my blisse, and graunt it bringe not my bale, if happely I obtaine it, I gaine my life: if vnfortunately I loose it, I gette my death: the ende whereof will yeelde mee either euerlastinge happines, or seale mee a quicke dis­patche of my vnfortunate luckines: If Fortune bee so fauourable that by happe I possesse it, I passe into the earthly Paradise, amidst the greatest ioyes that maye bée: if contrary, my willinge desires not inioy it, I shall sinke to the bottom of dispaire, and so ende my vnhappy dayes.

Alas Sir, replyed Fidelia, I am not a litle sorowfull but greatly greeued that your comming hath beene so vn­comfortable, and my fathers house such a harbour of your vnhappines, your entertainment so vnprofitable, & your small courtesie, to breede your great perplexitie: your paines so preiudiciall to your profite, and your pleasure to be enterlaced with the losse of liberty: for looke by how much the more your care is increased by the meanes of my Fathers homely house, by so much the more will hee bee discontented, to bee the occasion of your manifolde miseries, or the first founder of your happlesse infilicitie: If any thinge whatsoeuer haue beene offensiue or by mis­ordringe disliked, it shall be amended with reason, or cor­rected to the fashion of your fancy: if hee haue hurte you vnwittingly, hee will heale you gladly: if harmed you vnwillingly, helpe you speedily: if not thankfully grati­fied you, yet willingly you ought to prefer his willinge minde before his wishing desires: for could his will béene agreeable to his wish, & his wish consented to that which hee would: you had neither missed of fine fare, nor beene [Page 63] deceiued of good entertaynmente: not so gladly haue re­quested, but hee would more willingly haue performed: not so soone haue sued, as you should spéedily haue ob­tayned: not so inwardly haue beene mooued with de­sire, as hee would outwardly haue contented your mea­ninge: But where there wanteth wealth, there of force lacketh will: and where there is will without wealth, there also is wishinge, but no obtaininge: For my parte if any waye my meanes were vnmeasurable, or my sayinges vnsatiable: if my dooinges were reproouable, or my dealinges doubtfull: if my delightes were not dainty, or my minde any waye mooued then otherwise it ought: if any faulte were framed by my procure­mente, or any deuice doone not agréeable your mooued minde: I eyther beeinge the Authour, or yeeldinge my consente, I desire but due for my desertes, or punish­ment for my offence, whosoeuer be Iudge, or what euer bee my crime: and as I am sory that my Fathers insecu­ritie hath bred your infelicity, so am I not glad that my misdemeanour hath brought you to bed with the Mother of Melancholy.

Then staied they the sounding of an other measure, and daunced about with the other company, which ended, and the Musicke left sounding, Narbonus touched at the quick, and galled neare the hart, spake these words, his pacience béeing a litle mooued.

O good Mistresse Fidelia, caste mee not foorth to marringe, before you haue first put mee to makinge: single not out my siftinge, before you haue heard my pleadinge: arraigne mee not with rigour, beefore you graunt mee to aunswere for my selfe: for trust mee you haue mistaken your marke, and shotte at a wronge Sayncte: it was your Fathers house louinge Ladye, and my owne selfe that I blamed worthely, and in­treated wilfully, neyther did I quite condemne it, or vtterlye dislike it, but sayde it would procure the one, or graunt mee the other, and why then maye it not [Page 64] yéelde mée the best, as likely as graunt mée the worst: bringe as well my beatitude, as driue mée my death, and gaine mee my glory, as get mée my graue: doo you thinke mee so far to stray out of the bounds of honesty? or to giue such iudgement for my entertainment, to render diuilish­nes, for receiuing such deserts, or to repay a mouth ful of maliciousnes, for gaininge my hart fraught with happi­nes? truely my good Mistresse, you conster wronge, and giue no right interpretacion: for your Father shall com­maund Narbonus, who is bound by duety, and that not in matters of meane measure, but so far as the boundes of reason will permit, or hee giue willinge consent for mee to put in practise: but would God graunt mee that good­nes, and fortune bee so fauourable vnto mée, that my wil­ling minde might be shewed, or my simple seruice seene, or performing that you would commaund, in pleasuringe your person, or makinge some shew of my simplicity, I would vaunte of my good fortune with the happiest, and boast of my blessednes with the brauest: and in that you imagined mée vncurteous towards your sweet selfe, and to repay your goodnes with vngratefulnes, I call God for my witnes, and choose him my record, that my desires were vanquished by your desertes, and your deserts haue so drowned my desires, y ^t without your helping hande, I must perforce flie the fielde of your fauour, which to doe you pleasure I would surely prosecute, though no one thinge more contrary my hart: But contrariwise all the Hagges in Hell, nor all the superiall Sprites shall euer hunt mee from your habitacion, nor frame mee to follow any other felicity, but the hope of my happines, which is the grace of your goodnes, graued in my hart, and rooted in my interiour partes: and seeing I haue made so faire an assault, I will prooue to enter the breach, where I wil either leaue my life, or gaine the goale. Bée it knowen therfore vnto you, that not procured with better, nor mo­ued with worse: but euen the bright beames of your ver­tue, and the good graces of your personage, which to bee­holde [Page 65] I stood amazed, and altogeather for the time sence­les: when so soone as I had againe recouered my spirits, and wonne my forelost wittes, I gan first to gaze on your beauty, then to péere on your personage: then to stare on the fine fauour of your face: then to gape on your good graces: then to meruaile at your maydenly modestye: then to mu [...]e at your entertainment: then to delight my selfe with those swéet wordes, which procéeded from your dainty mouth: alwaies intermedling my honest meaning with your vertuous imaginacions, all which I thinke would rauish the hardest hart that euer breathed, or melt the congealed minde of the greatest Tyrante that euer liued: therfore your beauty haue bestraught mée, & your vertues vanquished mee: it lyeth in your liberty to make mée the handslaue of your swéet soule, and vnder your cor­rection to graunt mee my freedome: which if you wit me paciently to possesse, and quietly to enioy, I shal thinke all terestriall toyes, far inferiour to your heauenly delights, and all earthly pleasures but patternes of paine, to the great goodnes it will importe: where contrary, if you thinke mée vnworthy to bestow that swéet ioy on, and not fit to possesse that your faire fauour, I will not perforce liue any longer, nor drawe my breath in this bitter bale, but yeeld my luckles life to the losse of my selfe, and sur­render my soule to thee.

And with that worde, wringinge harde her hand, and casting his eyes into her body, his wanne chéekes, with his pale lippes, resembled but y ^e similitude of his picture, or the counterfaite of his fauour, as if before his lyuinge life had beene fled to the celestiall ioyes, or his immortall soule had forsaken this terestriall state: so droupinge downe his heauy head, and lullinge his vnstayed body to one side, his sences were seduced into the entrailes of his sounding soule, and all his members dismembred, not ha­uinge any force or féeling: thus feebly faintinge, and fal­ling in deede, but that hee was staied by Fidelia, and held in her tender armes, at the view of which sight, and that [Page 66] part of y ^e tragedy now before their faces, the other cōpany came with helping hands, and his Unckle ran hastily see­ing him falling, for that he would willingly haue borne a parte, and lent his lyuinge soule to accompanied the late fled life, as hee thought of his beloued Nephew, & Fidelia would rather haue beene first in the graue, or inclosed in the body of him, rather then staied after the departure of Narbonus, and so lefte him without the company of her selfe: but tempering with his pulses, and froathinge his forehead with such distilled waters, and other deuices, as there was plenty of the one, and sufficient of the other, hee recouered his spirits, and stoode againe vpon his stal­kinge legges, lookinge round about him, and staringe on the company, at last espied Fidelia, on whom hee spente the bestowinge of a paire of eyes, and such a glauncinge countenance, as was able to perce the armour of Achilles, no maruaile then if they ran into the hart of Fidelia.

His Unckle sorowfull to see this euente, and to playe there a parte altogeather vnexpected, especially for his owne safety: and then that he had troubled the company, so well disposed, and so pleasauntly minded: taking ther­fore his leaue of the Father of Fidelia, and so of the other company, thanked him for his courtesie, and gratified the other for their company.

Narbonus gaue the adue also to them all, but especially to his beloued delight.

The assembly sorowfull to beholde this crosse blow, and mooued to pitty to see his yll hap, giuinge iudgement that this his disease proceeded of Melancholy, or happened by the reason of his colde stomacke not able to digest his fore passed fare, or distempered with their hot drinkes: others answered that heretofore he had bin euil at ease, and kept his Chamber till that daye, which then might procéed by taking the open aire, or some such like thing to bée the oc­casion of this inwarde influence, but Fidelia amongst the rest shot fairest at the marke, and in deede hitte the very white.

[Page 67] Henricus walking homewardes, earnestly intreated his Nephew the cause of his new conceiued corasiue, and from whence it yssued: but he must either reache beyond the Moone, or bée neuer the nearer his purpose: for Nar­bonus soothed him vp with some contrary instructiōs, and forced him beleeue that which hee fained, answeringe as contrary from the matter, as hee was iudged of by the o­ther company.

Hauinge recouered his Unckles house, and entered his Chamber, hee powred foorth these pittifull plaintes, and vttered these waywarde wordes to him selfe, as followeth.

Alas Narbonus, and is it possible that thou shouldest so soone loose the companye of thy swéete Mistresse, and so quickly forgoe hir sight, whom thou preferrest beefore thy owne life, and in whose handes but lately thou didst marche so mannerly? Oh Fidelia, Fidelia, thou brookest thy name in euerye respecte, and wast not Christned contrarye thy desertes: Alas that thy beau­tye should worke m [...]e this treacherie, and thy swéete countenaunce procure mee this maladie: my lookinge hath made mee madde, and my gazinge starke staring blinde: O how happie are those that doo dayly enioye thy sight, and are alwayes where they may at the full beholde thy face? was this my comminge, and this my callinge of my Unckle? was this the fruitefulnesse of the feaste, and the lookinge glasse of my lasciuious lust? nay, was not this rather the effecte of my felicitie and the manner of my fisshinge, to happe on so louely a Lady, and to finde suche a Frogge as Fidelia? But howe am I deceiued? and in what order beguyled? thinkinge to enioy her, or to catche where I neuer craued, or to angle with my hooke beeinge vnbayted: my Unckle procu­red mee a little to hastily, and willed mee somewhat to spéedily, to make sale of my safety, beefore my former recouered maladye: but his meaninge was medicinable, though my payne prooue vnprofitable: by proouinge [Page 68] to salue my sore: he hath festred my fresh wounde, and in thinking to gaine me my health, hath lost me my liber­tie. But blamest thou thy Unckle, and reprouest him that honoureth thy health, and whose welfare he wisheth, who delighteth my desires, and craueth my happinesse: who hateth my misfortune, and is sorowfull to see me wéepe? canst thou then blame thy louing Unckle? and why not condemne the eyes of Fidelia? for had not she loked, I had not loued: and had not she wincked, I had not woed: had not she cast glances, I had not made semblances: and had not she infected me, I had bin whole, where now I am sore: pleased, where nowe I must be plastered: sounde, where now I am wounded: and frée frō seruitude, where now I am in bondage. But what sayest thou? doest thou raue, or art thou set to raile? doest thou rage, or beginnest to roare? art thou beside thy self, or doth some other speake for thée? are thy wittes thy owne, or hast thou borowed them of some other? thou speakest not by proofe, but bab­lest as thou hast heard thy neyghboures? did hir beautie so blaze in thy eyes, that thou couldest not sée? nay rather did not thy owne sight make thée blinde? yes truly, thou canst not denie it, and if thou do, thou flatterest but thy owne affections, and leadest thy begun loue, to a new lust: hath hir faire face made thy fortune frowning? and hir louelie lights made thée grope in darkenesse? hath hir mo­dest meanes caused thy immodest maners? and hir swéete conceytes bred thy cursed cares? no Narbonus, Fidelia is faire, so is she friendly, amorous, and amiable, pleasant, and pitifull, louing, and loyall, modest, and maydenly, handsome, and honest, comely, and curteous: she wanteth no gifts of nature, and néedeth no nurse for nurture: doest thou thinke that vnder so comely corps can lodge any lust of disloyaltie? or in so beautifull a personage can remayne any sparke of dishonestie? no surely, she was not framed for fashion sake, or made for that there were no moe: O how hir swéete words did reuiue me, almost drenched in the dyke of despaire, and how her chast countenaunce [Page 69] pierced me beeing almost dead: Happy art thou Narbonus that layest thy loue, where thou must leaue thy loyalty in possessing thy hope: but thrise happy shalt thou bée, if thou attaine that Iewell, which though thou carry not about thee, yet wearest thou it in the bottome of thy hart: but I should not praise her before I know her, but I dare com­pare her, before I am acquainted with hir. Doth she not in hue resemble Hester? and in chastitie Susanna? in beau­tie Bersaba? and in iudgement Iudith? in sobrietie Sara? and in wisedome Minerua? in comelinesse Diana? and in heauenlynesse Castor? But why couldest not thou for a time dissemble thy danger, and kéepe close thy gréefe? but being perceyued of all, they will laugh at thée in their sléeues. Behold héere the extremitie of loue without the consent of lust: I craue but hir séemely sight, and aske but hir bare companie to comfort these my pernicious perils, and reléeue these tossing torments: hir help would make me hole, and hir stay woulde make me strong: why then should I not enioy hir? bycause honestly I loue hir: for in louing hir, I léese my libertie, and in forgoing my liber­tie, I may happilie gaine my delight, and in obteyning my desire, I care not thē how spéedely I gaine my graue: if in dying I yéeld my last breath in hir bosome, who shall be more fortunate than my selfe? if in lyuing I enioy not hir company, whose death shall be more spéedelie? like to the budding blossome bitten with the frost, so do I fade: or as the Apple eaten inwardly with the worme, and neuer appeareth outwardly, till rotting, it droppe from the trée, or consumed, fall to the earth: or as the old tree consumed, and hollow within, neuer appeareth in the wind till it fal to the earth, or consume as it standeth: so shall I fade, so shall I fall: so shall I droupe, so shall I die: so shall I rotte, so shall I be bereaued of the rarest Iewell that Europe bréedeth. Alas, are these the rewards of loue? and the re­compences of my good meaning, to hazard my life, and to die vnwounded: but doe thy eyes pierce worse than ar­rowes? and thy sight infect like the Basalik [...]? If one enimy [Page 70] hurt another, he either séeketh a present salue, or giueth him his spéedie death. If a Dogge be bitten by another of his kind, he licketh himself whole againe. If the fléeting fishe be wounded, he healeth himselfe in the running Ri­uer. But doth not the lamenting Déere, the arrow stic­king in his side, repaire to some thicke groaue, or busshie lawne, where he moorneth till he die, & walketh himselfe, till senselesse he fall dead to the earth? Alas, is not my case such, and my wound in like order? my carefull Cham­ber yeelds me small comfort, and what reape I héere, but the fruites of infelicitie? but thou Nouice, did she giue thée this gléeking gall? nay, was it not thy owne eyes? why then blamest thou hir whose faith is thy felicitie? whose countenance thy comfort? whose louing lookes the prolon­ger of thy life? whose amiable grace the greatnesse of thy goodnesse? and whose swéete words the very restoritie of thy mutabilitie? complaine not then on hir, who was not the causer of thy maladie, for had not thy owne eyes bin the instruments, she had not procured thee: and hadst thou not looked, thy loue had bin little: and had not thy loue bin so great, thou hadst bin loose at libertie, where now thou art tied to hir courtesie, and bounde to hir beautie. And what if thou be so tied, repentest thou thy bargaine? or art thou sorie for thy choyce? no, no, the faire Rose hath a swéete smell: the Uermilion violet a most pleasant sent: the white Lillie, most amiable to behold. Do we not day­lie sée that misshapen things haue as deformed conditi­ons? and the brauer the beautie, the finer the qualitie: the fairer the face, the more fruitefull the fancie. Can there lodge in Fidelia any mistrust? or any deceite? any dishone­stie? or any enuie? any malitiousnesse? or any wicked­nesse? not in so excellēt a creature, or in so goodly a perso­nage, in whose feature, and in which formall body, the Creator shewed the thirde parte of his cunning, and Na­ture I thinke enuied she shoulde haue one degrée more: for had she bin celestiall, as she is but terrestriall, the heauenly Goddesses would haue enuied hir, for excelling [Page 71] their fauoures, and passing them in beautie: hir excellen­cie is the cause of my imperfection, & were she not so hea­uenlie, my desires would be but earthlye: hir Angelicall face hath infected my ill fauoured feature, and hir swéete graces bewitched my sottish senses, and in my minde, it is one of the wonders of the Worlde, and one of the rarest matters that may bée, how she that hath bin be­helde of so many, hath not bin loued of all: but no doubt, hir maners draw the heartes of others, and make their maladies not vnlike to mine. How could they in hir Fa­thers house beholde hir, and not loue hir? with what face could they loke on hir fauour, and not blushe at hir beautie? would not hir words melt in their mouthes? and hir swéete sayings moue their modest minds? Narbonus thou art deceiued, the Diuell loueth a Collier, and the Crow thincketh hir owne Bird fairest. The sotte is soo­ner wonne to lust, than lured to loue: the more noble mind, the more worthy enterprise: the valiant, feares no frownings, nor the worthie, dreads no danger. Will the Faulcon pray vpon a Crowe, or the Gossehauke cease vp­pon carion? the Eagle on a dead Horsse? or the Tassell on a starued Dogge? The Lion will deuoure no dead thing, nor the foule Beare touch a man lying on the Earth. I knowe there are moe maydens than Malkin, and moe louers than Phillis, yet but one that liketh mee, or any that shall loue me, but Fidelia. But what shall I doe, or what meanes shall I make? to whome shall I bewaile my wante? or who will helpe mee? who will releeue mee? or who will assist mee? who will further mee? or who wyll take my parte? who will solicite my suite? or who will pleade for mee? my case shall bee manifested to my Unckle, who will as contentedlye assiste mee, as I willinge to craue helpe.

But thou Foole, what knowest thou whether hee will like of thy loue, or condemne thy madnesse? per­happes hee regardeth some other, and wyll counsell [Page 72] thée to match after his mind, and to loue after his liking: and if happily his liking be so, and that contentedly, he will consent, as gladly as my selfe: shall he therefore be my spokesman, and breake the matter first? then will she thinke he loueth not my loyaltie, or regardeth not my chastitie, for then would he not spare to speake, nor de­spaire to spéede: is not his cause best heard that pleadeth himselfe being plaintife? and doth not he most preuayle that pitifully moueth the Iudge himselfe? yes trust me, that way is therefore the worst, and that inuention with­out a good deuice: why? the assault is already giuen, and the breach is begonne, yet haue I not looked the enimie in the face, or know how I shall spéede: yes, I haue séene him that hurt me, and scared on the partie that wounded me, yet know I not whether he will bandée or yéeld: if he fight mine is the foile: if I bee ouercome, shall I turne home like a coward, or be driuen backe like a dastard? no trust me, yet will I rather choose a honourable death, than a reprochful life: rather a faire Hearce, thā a defiled body, and sooner a glorious graue, than a miserable estate: thou hast indéede begun blessedly, and thy inception not to be disliked, God graunt thou perseuere as happily, & the end not to be detested: but what did thy dying in hir hand be­token, and thy fainting in such order presage? was it not a sure signe thou shouldest léese thy life for hir sake? and séeke hir Soule as Aeneas sought Dido in Hell: but she fled from him, and he neuer recouered hir sight againe: but if hir soule flie from me, and departe my sight, I will neuer ceasse but séeke hir, and neuer leaue, till I find hir: thou diuinest like a Doctour, God grant thy imaginatiō proue thée not a Sophister: thou standest héere vpon law points, and driuest doubts vnlooked for, leauing the principall to feede thy fancie: the more speedely thou speakest, the more hastelie thou shalt be answered: and the sooner thou doest solicite thy suite, the sooner shalt thou receiue iudgement. Well then Narbonus, this deuice shall bréede thy delight, and to put this in practise, wil yéeld thée thy contentation: [Page 73] let then Paper bée thy messenger and declare thy minde, and Inke thy Secretary to deuise thy meaning: so mayst thou manifest the inward motions of thy minde, & make it knowen how dearely thou louest her, which to looke on thy selfe, thou canst not but blushe, and holde downe thy head at her wise answers: In these carefull cogitaci­ons, and amidst these sundry inuentions, the day appea­red in at the litle creuises, and the light brake in betwéen the Curtaines: hee therfore resolued him selfe to forsake his sluggish bed, and buckled on his Buskins, where no sooner ready, and all furnished in his apparrell, but he be­gan to write, and so to make knowen his secretes: yet this deuice seemed doubtfull, and as hee imagined might bréed daunger, for that the conueiaunce of his letters could not bee without some suspicion, and the messenger as yet vn­knowen: at the last, this fancy as hee imagined might bréede his felicity, and this deuice answere him as himself would desire, which was to requite their courtesies who before had feasted him, and to inuite them, by whom his Unckle was bidden, which was not so spéedily of his Unckle demaunded, as hee with hasty condiscending had quickly performed.

Now Gentlemen, you must imagine if Narbonus were pricked, Fidelia was also galled: if hee complayned, shée reioyced not: if hee languished, shee laughed not: if hee were sorowfull, shée was not merry: and if hee complay­ned not without a cause, shee lamented not without occa­sion: and if he diued in the depth of his desire, shée swam not in the sea of Security: and if his health were denied, her life was not prolonged: You shal therfore vnderstand that at the departure of Narbonus and his Unckle, the one in an extasie, the other amazed at the euent, the rest of the company brake, and ended that daies worke, which better pleased Fidelia, then if they should haue staied lon­ger: the assembly cleane gone, and all departed, Fidelia entred her Chamber, as if shee should haue gone into her Graue: where béeing alone, and bereft of any company, [Page 74] shee vttered these wordes.

O Fidelia, how froward is thy fate, and how vnfor­tunate thy fall? how lucklesse thy lotte, and how immo­dest thy maladye? howe miserable thy estate, and howe pittifull thy complayntes? though thou werte at a Feast, yet diddest thou fas [...]e: and in that there was plentye of Wyne, yet I feare mee thou haste dranke nought but thy destruction: Alas Narbonus, was thy hap so harde, and thy chaunce so contrarye, to catche heere a corasiue vncureable, and to finde in this place the fine of thy fe­licitie: I praye it bee not so badde, and wishe earnestly it bee not woorse: but if it bee so, and no whit otherwise, who is to bee blamed, or who to bee reprooued? whose was the cause, or whose the consente? whose were the deedes, or whose the dooinges? whose demeanour, or who the occasion of so beeinge bestraught, but thy owne selfe Fidelia, and thy owne deuices? shall thy loue coste his lyfe, and thy beauty breede his bane? shall thy bra­uerye cause his bannishmente, or thy eyes breede his death? shall thy graces encrease his grones, or thy coun­tenaunce procure his pennaunce? no trust mee, if hee loued thee a little, thou shalte loue him as much: and if hee lyked thy face, thou shalte imbrace his fauour: doth not his courtesie, exceede thy curiositie, his behauiour excell thy handsomnesse? his deserts drowne thy desires? O yes, his talke hath taken mee tardye, and his sweete wordes, pierced my sowre lippes: happy art thou to gaine suche a fréende: but thrise happy to finde suche a Iewell, who is contente to leaue his life for thy loue, and to goe into Hell to gette thy fréendly fauour, to render the re­maynder of his life, to procure thy felicitie: and shall hee not then bee requited for his courtesies, and repayde for his good desertes? Yes, my health shall holde him, and my ioy reléeue him: my felicity shal cause his happinesse, and my goodnesse requite his gratiousnesse: my life will I forgoe to pleasure his person, and my honesty of more value, then all the reste will I importe vnto him, rather [Page 75] then bee depriued of his sight, or berefte of his company: doost thou not freese for feare? and arte thou not colde to to thinke on thy conceytes? nay, doost thou not rather burne in desire, and art as hot as a toste: Fie Fidelia, for­beare these fonde imaginacions, and forget not thy wel­fare to procure thy woe: but alas, how canst thou forget thy swéete freende, or put out of thy remembraunce, him whom aboue all other thou honourest: if thou wouldest, thou maist not, and were thy consent graunted, thou canst not: for if it were in thy nay, should he haue denyall? no trust mee, my truth shall bée manifested by my tryall, and my tryall shall not procure his trechery: but why did I holde him from falling, and tooke him vp from stumbling, when hee tolde mee my Fathers house, and heare hee had gotten his bane? Alas, because I loue him should I al­wayes kisse him? or because hée is my freend, shoulde I nought but flatter him? I hated him not, in that I reproo­ued him, nor disdayned him, because I consented not to to him? could I say l [...]sse for my Fathers honesty, and vsed fewer wordes for my owne credite? either I must haue tyed vp my thoughts, or trussed vp my tongue: yet my wordes I confesse might haue beene more freend­ly, and my sayinges more satiable: my words more plea­sauntly pronounced, and my dooings more daintely deui­sed: But what amendes shall I make? or what reward [...] shall I render? what raunsome shall I paye? or how re­munerate his demeanour? might my portion pay the per­fection? or my meanes any waye mittigate his rigour? my desaster should be death, and my life not enioy my liberty, vnlesse to lincke with him in loyalty, and to yeeld him that patrimony, which al true Louers merite: whose lyberty is my lyfe, whose welfare my warrant, whose happinesse my gladnesse, whose ioye my desire.

In the middle of these her meditacions, and nowe in the verye bowelles of loue, shee was cyted to Sup­per, but not made partaker to suche a Feaste as shée was at lately beefore: which courteous request, more [Page 76] to auoyde the spite of suspition, than for any desire of deintie meates, she dayned not to perfourme his last de­manding, or to giue consent to y ^e request: but she fed more vpon fancie, than glutted hir selfe with any cates there presente: more vpon daintie deuices, than any parcell of repast: for this meate forsooth was mawmish, & this me­lancholie: this dish would driue hir to drincke, and this cause hir to drie: this was rhewmatike, & that would in­crease fleame: this cholerike, and that heauy to disgest: hir mind was on hir maydenhead, and hir thoughts ranne on former preambulations: As for hir heart, that had Narbo­nus, and as good will hee had to like it, as to leaue it: to weare it, as to want it: to enioy it, as to be without it: hir eyes tumbled and rolled now this way, then on that side: now on this dish, then on that deuice: now she marked the place where Narbonus sate, and then the spoone he eate withall: now the cup he drancke of, and then the trencher he was carued vpon: now she remembred his dancing, and then his dalying: now his parling, and last of all his departing: hir eyes ranne in euery place, and she eate as much as would suffice a Sparow: she thought that supper longest of any that euer she was at, when hir dinner was foure times so long. The Table therefore taken vp, and hir obediēce done to hir father, she departed to hir Cham­ber, thinking to banish these toyes, lying on hir soft bed, and resting hir head on hir comfortable pillow, but no soo­ner laid, but assailed in like maner as before: then séeing no sléepe would enter into hir eyes, and that perforce she must yeeld to hir fancie, she vttered these words folowing to hir selfe, in like maner as ensueth.

The toyle is set to take the Déere, the hooke to hang the Fish, the trappe to begile the Mouse, the limetwigge for the Bird, & the net for y ^e Foxe: and was not Narbonus thē a sufficiēt baite to take so simple a mayd as my selfe? how should I auoid it? or how should I not be taken, that haue already yéelded, and neuer striued to make my flight? & ha­uing yéelded my selfe prisoner, & abādoned my body to the [Page 77] enimies courtesie, no doubt but my life shall be redéemed without ransome, and frée libertie yéelded at my entrea­ting, as if thy life were at his courtesie, and thou recey­uest thy death without his loyaltie. But why denyedst thou him at the first motion, and didst not graunt when he offered thée so faire? to yéeld at the first sight, had bin the part of a light huswife, and yet in making deniall, I feare his life be denied him: where the Towne is yeelded at the first assault, there are but fainthearted Souldyours: and had Fidelia consented at the first demanding, he might haue iudged me common: that Colte that will take the bitte at the first manacing, is likely to proue but a iade: and the Tassell reclaimed at the first lure, will proue but a Haggard in the ende: and had Fidelia condiscended at the first request, he would surely imagined hir a Strum­pet: after drouping cloudes, the Sunne breaketh out into a blaze: after my soure sauce, he should haue had swéete su­ger: the frost lasteth but in the night, and in the day the thaw commeth: my heart was not so frosen, nor my mind so congealed, but had the Sunne of sufferance stayed a tide, or the heate of his desire bidden the brunt of his bar­gaine, but it would melt like waxe, and thaw like Snow: the grasse must haue a night to grow, and I one day to loue: But as the ill fauoured Horse séemeth fattest in his maisters eye, so séeme I most faire that do best féede his fancie: and as the grounde sheweth rich in the maisters sight, when but barren in the eye of another man, so doth my face please his fauoure, although he dislike anothers feature: yes doubtlesse, my triall is too true, and my proofe too playne, but loyaltie is my life, and chastitie my choyce: if I leaue the one, I can not liue with the other. Lucretia mighte haue dissembled hir rauishmente, and so saued hir life: had she yéelded, she had not bin for­ced, and had she not bin forced, she might haue condiscen­ded, and in yéelding, procured the death of him that cau­sed the losse of hir owne life: but as she yéelded to lust, so did she also yéelde to death: she dyed, why should I liue? [Page 78] and had not she died, should not I therfore dye? yes surely, and dye I would, but for doing him seruice, whose health wil cause me to liue in happines, & whose death wil cause me to die in desperatenesse. Alas how I fade, how I fall, how I looke, how I lacke, how I loue, how I like, how I dying, faint for feare, & how I fainting, am readie to fall: to remēber his wanne face, with his pale lippes: his cold chéeks, with his staring eys: his dying head lolling down, & my hand held hard in his fingers, with my heart in his habitatiō, which I could willingly consented, should haue departed with his: yet durst I not bewray my thoughtes, yet durst I not crie, yet durst I not scritch, yet durst I not complaine outwardly, yet durst I lament inwardly: did I not quake, & did not my heart droupe? yes surely, I would not haue liued to his losse, nor die to his hinderance, I thinke he would neither request the one, nor desire the o­ther: he fell like the blossome, & faded like the floure: he di­ed like the Daisie, & fainted like as a babe sléepeth: he dyed like the cōdemned, that layeth his head on the blocke, and dieth before the blow come: but Narbonus dyed before he had his condemnation pronounced: he dyed betwéene thy armes, & in thy lappe: When y ^e Rose is blowē to the full, it falleth frō the stalke, but Narbonus died before he came to the ful perfection, and yéelded before his life was in dā ­ger: But reape vp thy remēbrance, & pull vp thy sprights, did not these hāds stay him falling? and these eyes behold him recouering? these eyes indéede, and these handes, but from such holdings God graunt I be deliuered, and from such sights defended. Could I blush to sée my owne heart bloud? or could I languish to sée my life linger for y ^e graue? could I wéepe to wāt the greatest welfare in this world? or could I lament to behold so pitiful a tragedie? In séeing thee despaire I saw my owne death, and in seeing thee breathlesse, I saw my owne bane: in seeing thee pine, I saw my greatest paine, and in seing thee go to the graue, I saw my selfe giuing vp the ghost. Could Phillis hang hir selfe, and couldest not thou kil thy selfe? could Andromeda [Page 79] dreame so pitifully, and canst not thou bewaile thy fancie as lamentably? could Prolixena prolong hir life after the losse of hir louer, and canst thou draw forth thy dayes, thy desires being detained? could Bacchir bath hir selfe in the boule of hir bloud, and canst thou blesse thy selfe in the beatitude of thy bargaine? was Dido content to die the death for yeelding to the deapth of hir desires, and canst not thou be content to sacrifice thy soule for the satisfa­ctiō of that swéete Saint? But how did he withdraw him­selfe out of my danger, and how faded his face from my fancie? with heauie cheere▪ and with moorning melodie: with mestfull ioy, and with little iolitie: though he came in the common Cockes path, yet went he home by wee­ping crosse: how did he looke when he badde me farewell? and what a countenance he did cast on me most sorowful? O those eyes, his eyes, Narbonus eyes, nay my eyes, my weeping eyes, the eyes of Fidelia, were they not mine? yet he gaue them me, but where then are they? my hearte harboureth them, & I beare them in my brest. But where art thou now Narbonus? and in what place resteth thy be­straughted life? if safe, I not sad: if merie, I glad: if helthy, thē am I hole: if sicke, I sorie: but my diuining may bréede my decay, & my bewailing proc [...]re my woe: for though he fainted, did he fall for me? and though he lāguished, did he lament for me? though he soothed me sweetely, he may vse me as sourely: and though he praysed me passingly, yet may he hate me hartely: though he looked earnestly, yet may he loue me slenderly, for some sullen sicknes was the cause of his sounding, & some old foistring disease did be­gin againe to renew his wonted course: he faynted for feare, rather thā feared my fauour: he y ^t was before sicke, how could he be then sound? and he that was before infec­ted, how could he heere be healed? why do I not then re­iect him, and remoue him out of my mind? his fancie shall not breede my feare, nor his fauour begile my feature: I wil roote out his remēbrance, & burne y ^e bil wherewith I bid y ^e bargaine: his heart shal be out of my habitatiō, & my [Page 80] liberty not detained with his loue, let him looke some o­ther louer, and finde some fitter fréend: prooue some other Préest, and parley with some other Prelate: trye some other more trusty, and loue some other more loyall: know some other more kinde, and serue some other more faith­full: the surest will proue but sowre, and the swéetest but sawce: thou hast deuined right Fidelia, and spoken but the very truth: bid therfore thy carefull bed adue, and write to him of his wanton wiles, in séekinge to mollifie so mo­dest a mayden as my selfe, and to mingle such mischéefe to so vnfained a fréend as Fidelia: then shée lefte her care­full couch, and gan to write as foloweth.

ANd couldest thou for my so great courtesie, requite mée with a congratulatiō of periury: although I loked on thée, yet lusted I not after thee: and though I daunced with thee, yet was I not bereft of my honesty: thou hast wooed in Wittenberge some wantons, wedded to thy wiles, and thou lookest here in Vienna to lure mee to thy luste: but alas, thou castest thy baites in a dry Ditch, and if any bite, they will prooue but Frogges: Is this one of thy Schoole trickes? and this thy lesson, learned so earnestly to carrye two heades in one hoode, and two faces in one bodye? two tongues in one mouth, and two hartes in so little a lumpe of fleshe? No no, goe fishe amongst foolish Fryers, and singe thy Sirens songes amidst the fellowship of Flora: I would thou knewest, Diana is my Mistresse, and for such cutters as thy self, they come not in our crue: I am one of those which haue vowed vestality, as for thy lyking, thou maist séeke the layety of Layis: goe finde out some flirt to bestow thy frumpes on, & make loue to some Lozell like to thy self. O how thou wouldest die (forsooth) and leade Apes in Hell: thou diddest fainte, because I lowred: and thou wouldst sell thy soule, because I would not make sale of my honesty: did I hold thee by the hand when thou dyinge saydst: and if no? and so diddest fall fainting. But out (alas) Fidelia.

And with those wordes, the teares flowed downe her [Page 81] face, and her head ran round shée knew not how, her sen­ces were drowned with dispaire, and her soule sanke soft­ly to the ground: for shee slept see [...]ely for a s [...]aso [...], and dreamed not of any her desires: who then had beheld her, would haue thought her life had been [...]led to Limbo Lake, & her soule gone to wander amongst the infernal ghostes: But when she returned to her former imaginacions, and had fully possessed the freedome of her selfe, marualli [...]ge what shee had doone, and into what place shée had [...]eene transported, began to gaze on the walles, and to stare on euery place: then shee beheld her bed, and mused whither it were her owne or not: then erecting her body vpon hir fallen féete, and turninge to her window, looked on other thinges: then seeing her glasse, looked into it, wher [...] per­ceiuinge her watry eyes, and her bubbles [...]héekes, her haire about h [...]r face, and her head so out of order, was ra­uished to know the cause, and amazed at thi [...] sight: the [...] leaning on the side of her window, and turning her selfe to the other part, shee sawe Paper scribled on, and Inke standing by it, wherat catching hastily, shee red the effect of the prescript: where seeing her owne folly, and sorow­full for that was done: shée began againe so lamentably to lamente, and so bitterly to wéepe, as though her soule should no longer haue liued in this painefull pilgrimage, and as if sh [...]e would at that instant forced her selfe to die: then taking the paper written on, shee rent euery peece, and euery parcell: euery worde, and euery letter, which her imaginacion did giue her to bewray any thing, or her fancy thought would bee any way perceiued: and in this outragious rigour, shee spake these wordes.

Had this writing euer béene seene of any other but my selfe, or beene red of any but mée, vnfortunate wretch, the hand that wrote it should haue been carued with as many cuttes, as there were letters writtē: the mouth that spake them, should so haue beene rente, as neuer to haue spoken any more: as for the head that inuented it, should neuer made mee such inuentions.

[Page 82]O Fidelia, whither were thy wits wandred? and into what place thy right sences seduced? to deuise so madde a mistery, and to inuente so diuelishe a deuice? to preache so shamelesse a Sermon, and to sound such Hellish harmony to that sweet Sain [...]t, whose life is my lyuinge, and with­out whom my carefull carkas shall prooue my pe [...]ry, in yeelding my soule into the body of him, whom no one thing in this worlde is to mee so deare? Therfore, come happe, come [...]eauinesse: come sorowing: come [...]olacinge: come sorow: come felicity, come aduersity: come Hagge, come Hell: come death, come Diuell: I will write to him my wéeping will, and send the effect of my meaning: let him take mée, or let him turne mee away: let him loue mee, or let him hate mée: let him accept mée, or let him forsake mee: the worst that can come is but death, and I looke for no lesse, neither doo I deserue more. What care I if death ende my dayes, and that my life bee now at the last cast, so I may dye to serue him, whom to enioye, I would not feare to fetch the Gouldē Apples from the Dragon, or to passe amidst the gulfe of Caribdes: then shée tooke other Paper, and began to write as followeth.

WHen as Narbonus thy fréendly face, and louinge countenance presented the patterne of the perfectest picture y ^• Nature nourisheth, or at the least y ^e only forme that Fidelia honoureth: I incensed with the light: then pawsing a while, and reading it ouer againe, shée blotted it out and began a new.

Of all the humayne creatures that God wrought, and of all the workes that hee made, man hee framed after the forme of his owne Image, and the feature of his owne face: gaue to him a soule, to liue againe after this tere­striall trauaile: and besides, lente him a thing in nature, which excéedeth all others in this world: which is the in­ward influence that proc [...]edes from the very harte: then stayed shee there, and readinge what shee had written, dashed it out againe, and wrote afterwards as followeth.

[Page 83]THe pleasaunt Springe procureth the delight of euery Beast of the Féeld, and of euery foule of the ayre [...] and man is renewed, as it were, and againe formed: after the colde winters blaste, and frozen fieldes: when the fine sweete flowers doo beautifie the Forrests, and decke the lawndes, euery beast reioyseth: the flickeringe birdes make their musicall melody: and man is recreated, as it were, and beginneth againe as at the first: each Bea [...] chooseth his best beloued, eache Birde his match: but the nature of man that way is framed contrary for that all: Then perusing what she had written, she blotted it cleane out.

And standinge amazed, to thinke that shee had thrise written, and neither had pleased her, she began to renew her sorrowes a fresh, beeinge vncertaine what to d [...] [...] for one way shee doubted how they would bee taken: and a [...] other thinge troubled her, which was the secure deliuery of them: in the end, resolued her selfe to let them alone for that time, & to bee better aduised before shée wrote: which imagination tooke so good effecte, as therupon shée went to dinner better contented, then when shee arose in th [...] morning.

As for Narbonus, hée deuised first one thinge, and then another: first some yll deuice, and then a worse: which framed so yll, and prooued so contrary, as hée looked as yll as at the first, and rather worse then likely to amende: which his Unckle perceiued at all times so yll disposed, and to haue so litle appetite to his meate, spake thus vnto him.

Nephew, the Pot goeth so long to the water, til it comes broken home, the Cat playeth so long with the Mowse, that at length shee eateth her: the Frogge leapeth so often vp the banke, that the Kite catcheth her: the Fly buzzeth so long about the Candle, that shee is brent to asshes: doth not the Sun as well thaw the snow, as dry the dyrt? doth not y ^e fire as wel melt the wax, as harden the sappy wood? I feare mee thou wilt dally so long with the fire, as y ^u wilt [Page 84] be burnt with the flame: the dawning of the day breaketh out softly, encreasing till the cleere light be discerned, but when the Sunne shineth out, what can be hidden from the sight thereof? thy disease groweth by degrées, and en­creaseth like the waxing of the Moone, for first it troubled thée alittle, but n [...]w it restreyneth thee of thy meate, whereby thou shouldest liue, and prolong thy life. Can the Horsse liue without prouender? or the Lamb without the wate of hir damme? the child without the brest of the Nursse? or a man without his naturall foode? canst thou liue, and lacke the maintenance of thy life? thy dayes must perforce be shortned, and thy winde wast away like the water bubbles: and thy life lost, how shall mine bée ma [...]nleihed? if th [...]u enioy not thy desire, why should I en­ioy my health? therfore Narbonus, as dutie bindeth thée, and as I thinke entirelie thou doest loue me, put away this pens [...]uenesse, and driue away these dumpes: flie from these fancies which will shorten thy life like a shadow, and consume thée, like as the Caterpiller deuoureth the blooming blossom: if there be any thing, whatsoeuer, spare for no speaking, and thou shalt not misse for obteyning: make manifest thy miserie, and then if I procure thée not a plaister, let me not beare the name of thy faithfull Unckle, that will not séeke to salue thy disease.

These swéete wordes made so satiable a sound in the eares of Narbonus, as he had almost bewrayed the wéerie wandring of his wauering witte, but yet stayd his toung to some more temperate time, and to a season more fitte the grafting of his words, he thus replyed.

Deere Unckle, can the Infante goe so soone as hée is borne? or will the Trée sproute againe so soone as the olde leaues are fallen? when the Tyde hath flowed to the full, must it not haue a time to ebbe againe? and when the Moone is waxen to the full, must she not haue hir season to waine agayne? can my disease be dried vp in one day? or can I be cured with one pleasante conceyte? as i [...] en­creased, so must it decrease: as it grew, so must it fade: as [Page 85] it came, so must it goe away againe: my gréefe beganne with groanes, but I hope it will ende with gladnesse: doth not the colde encrease, as Sommer weareth away? and as Winter decreaseth, do not so the sprigges sproute? doth not the sillie Shéepe quiuer and quake, depriued of his fléece? but once growen, he dreadeth not the weather as before? the bouncing Bucke depriued of his goodlie hornes, kéepeth the lawnes and groaues, which once growen againe, he sheweth himselfe as before. So must Narbonus comforte himselfe with his close Chamber, and vse his consolation in his quiet Cabin, till his ma­ladie bée amended, and his conceytes cured. But Unckle, to driue away all doubts from your desires, and all suspi­tion from your presumption, I neyther am infected with frensie, nor madde aboue measure: but my feuer is faint­nesse, and my pensiuenesse melancholinesse: no other disease, nor any other deuice, no other sicknesse, nor a­nie other sainctlinesse: no other infection, nor any o­ther consumption: And séeing you haue so courteouslie offered, I will as shameleslie demaunde: which is, that I may enioy the companie of some pleasant disposed companyons, and the sight of some honest merrie mée­tings: and in that you were so friendly inuited, I be­séech you as curteouslie to entertayne, if it shall please you that comfortable companye where you were so friendlye feasted, and so bountifully entertained, for that they are good and honest, courteous without curio­sitie, and pleasant without partialitie.

To the whiche request, for that it séemed neyther vnreasonable, nor very vnprofitable, he willingly con­discended, and with spéede made repaire to enuite his former banquetters, who as curteouslie consented, as he friendly entreated.

Nowe let those that haue bin bitte with the Bolt of Cupid, and tasted the conceytes of loue, iustifie their iudgementes, whether these copartners fellow louers were incensed with their enflamed fancies, or bereaued [Page 86] of their right wittes, or drawne with the desire of mutu­all confederacie, or to make manifest the meaning of the mind, and the other to take delight in the lippes of hir lo­uer. Fidelia for hir parte spared not to bounce it in the brauest manner she could, nor looked that any one thing should be contrarie hir calling: no wrinckle awrie on hir kirtle, no spotte stayned on hir coate: euerie finger shée thought was fiftéene, and euerie toe twentie: hir glasse was oftner gazed in that morning, then looked on halfe a yeare before: hir comely head decked with fine flowers, and hir gloues perfumed with swéet waters: As for those things which were néerer hir body, I trust lacked neither Muske, nor wanted Ciuet, nor any swéete smelles to de­light hir dearling, and to féede his fancie: As for other deinties fitte for such a banquet, and other delightes per­teyning to a louely feast, shee conueyed in hir bosome a Casket full of kindnesse, the Till filled with temperance, and the sides paynted with securitie: the bottome full of embracings, and both endes full of honest enticings: the hinges hanged with harmonie, and about that place de­lighted with melodie: within the locke stoode loyaltie, and hard by chastitie hande in hande: on the hookes happi­nesse, and the inner sides lined with libertie: on the toppe was trust, who helde truth by the toe: on the féete was fancie, looking in the face of fidelitie: vnderneath was Venus sitting in the lappe of poultfooted Vulcane, and not farre from thence was Diana dancing with hir naked Nimphes: and a little from them were placed Faith, Hope, and Charitie: Faith was paynted with a smiling countenance, and friendly fauour, looking so feruentlye vpon Hope, and so sweetelie, as though y ^e blowing breath had proceeded foorth of hir mouth, giuing the one hand to Hope, and with the other hand she beckned that Charitie should come to hir: Hope held a Hauke vpon hir fist, which séemed as if it had bin flying away, and with the other hand she caught it againe: from one eye ranne downe the trickling teares, and the other looked liuely, and hir coun­tenance [Page 87] as though she had laughed: Charitie looked full in both their faces, and in one hande she helde a Doue and a Dogge, the whiche she presented to Faith as hir fée, and in the other hande shee helde a Sword and a gol­den Apple, the which she gaue to Hope: Hard by these was Enuie, with a knife in the one hand, and a rodde in the other: then next to him was placed Disdeyne, who stoode vomiting and sla [...]ering out of his mouth: then was there Dispaire, who fared as if he had bin running a­mongst the Nimphes naked: and Death folowing him with a great many dartes, and one of them he threwe, which did sticke in the buttock of Dispaire: This was hir Casket of conceytes, and this she caried to proue which of them woulde represente hir purpose, as for Rings and Bracelets, Iewels, and Cheynes, Tablets & such like, I trust she rifled hir cofers, & left none of y ^e best behind hir.

And if Fidelia were so [...]ne in hir fancies, Narbonus was as trimme in his trumperies, and by that time hée was throughly furnished of his attire, and fitted of his ne­cessaries, the long desired guestes approched: who were not so soone come as welcome, and farre better welcome was Fidelia, than eyther hir Father, or any other friend. Narbonus curteously saluted them all, enterteyning them with so good grace, as shewed him to be no Nouice that way, or needing any tutor to teach him trickes: he gaue to the Father of his Sainct great thankes for their late receyued gratulations: then saluted he the Gentlewomen orderly, so came he to Fidelia, and kissing his hand, layd it on the faire fist of Fidelia, and then kissed hir hand: as for his eyes, he layde them vnder the eye liddes of hirs, and gaue hir this salutation.

Mistresse Fidelia, mighty Princes and great Monar­ches are of duetie bound, and in conscience ought doe no lesse then yéelde thankes to God for their dignities, and praise him for their receiued ritches: but much more I, for inioying this benifite, and be holdinge this body, your only swéete selfe: to the which all earthly thing [...]s are in [Page 88] respect but lothsome, but I prefer it before my owne life, but for suspicion, hee neither durst stay to speake any fur­ther, nor abide to heare the reply of her answere.

Henricus shortly after, placed this courteous crue in such order as hee iudged best, and allotted euery one their places, according to their callinge.

Narbonus was content for that time to beare the office of Gentleman Sewer, and I thinke could haue béen con­tented to haue held a Candle at the trencher of the Sainct hee serued: but so soone as the first course was in, hee tooke his place appointed by the Maister of the Feaste, where hee fed on a daintie dish, that he would rather haue bestowed in an other place then there: if shée looked meri­ly, then did hée laugh: if shée lowred, hee frowned: if shée scowled, hee was coy: if shée were pleasant, then was hee merry: hee fed neither on spoone meate, nor boyled dish: neither on baked, nor rosted, neither the Partridge, nor the Plouer: neither Crane, nor Quaile: neither Heath­cocke, nor Mallarde: shée looked on her lust, and hée beheld his life, for her lust was his loue, and his loue her life: the other spent the dinner time with eating and drinking but they with lookinge and lyking: But when the feaste was finished, and the clothes taken from the Table, after duety done, and courtesie yéelded, they arose to passe the rest of the day in pleasant pastimes, in dauncings and dal­lyinges, euery one was busied with talkinge, or commu­nicating of some matter, and Narbonus was talking with one of the Gentlewomen about common matters, and of small importaunce, where after a small season and a ltile time spent, hee espyed Fidelia without any to kéepe her company, and leaninge out at a window: wherupon hée left off with aduantage, and departed where he beganne, then taking Fidelia by the hande as she stoode leaning, he spake as foloweth.

Mistresse Fidelia, to stand vpon tackes of tattling, and tearmes of long discourses, were but the prolonging of a painefull pilgrimage, and the spending of time without [Page 89] profite, now so good an occasion is offered, and that this place will permitte vs a little to speake, and yet the Har­binger cries hast, hast, and the messenger biddes post post: I could aleadge many circumstances, and make manye protestations, vse many faire flatterings, and giue many gléeking gloses, much curtesie, and more curiositie in the working of my words, and the placing of my parleance: know you therefore that the heauenly vertues, with the which God hath adorned you, & nature hath decked you, haue at the first view of your beautifull personage, and the first sight of your faire fauoure, so rauished my minde, & stolne my heart, as I who before was neuer subiect to any such suggestion, nor neuer assayled with any suche maladie, was so entangled with the heauenly hue of your bright burning beautie, and so rapt with the superexcel­lencie of your swéete selfe, as come all the torture, and all the tormentes that euer were deuised by any humayne motion, or inuented by any notorious Tirant, I will die the secret seruant of faithfull Fidelia, and awaite on your person so long as I liue: will you? will you? I will eyther loue you liuing, or follow you dead: pleaseth you therefore to retaine so simple a seruant as my selfe, and to com­maund me your slaue, I shal be bound to you in body, and honour you with my heart: And for my loialtie, if it be not comparable to any that euer liued, and my loue as much as any that euer breathed, I pray héere from the bowels of my soule, and from the inner part of my heart, God the Iudge of all secretes, & the acknowledger of all thoughts, to poure his plagues as thicke as Hayle, and his punish­ments as plentifully as rayne, and after the leauing of this life, all the Hagges in Hell, and al the Féends where­soeuer, with Fire to torment me, and with their Forkes always to pursue my sinfull soule. You iudged, I am sure, my inward griefe by my outward sorow, when I was at your Fathers house, and in the deapth of my dauncing, and had I then ended my dayes, and lost my life, I should haue thought my happe comparable to any, and inferiour [Page 90] to none, wher now if I possesse not my desires, nor obteine my felicitie, my life wil be more lothsome, & my death not so acceptable: stand not therfore vpō delayes, neyther vse any lingering excuses: pronounce eyther my happie feli­citie, or death my earthly destinie, which if you giue me, I shall as willingly. I cā not speake more before you reply.

Sir Narbonus answered Fidelia: your wordes are pre­cise, and very prestrict to answere your demaunds at the full, and to reply in such order as you will me, I stand a­mazed what to do, and yet fully you must be reanswered: you prefer my personage (you say) before al other earthly creatures, and in doing so much, if you perfourme what you say, you do but your dutie, and requite but my curte­sie. You loue me so well as euer wight was beloued, and honour me as the habitation of your owne soule: I will not say I loue you better, nor that I honour you more, which if you do not in euery respect perfourme, and to the vttermost of your power seeke to mainteyne, you wish to be punished with plagues, and the Hagges of Hel to haunt you, God guide you from them heereafter, but whilest you are héere, I hope to defend you. You are content to sacri­fice your soule for my sake, and to haue your body suffer the torments of death in my behalfe: the common saying is: after you is maners: but I will be first in this respect, then vse your owne as you list. My Fathers house you say was a signe sure ynough, and that I saw your loue sufficiently well: O Narbonus, hadst thou then dyed, or there lefte thy life, thy Soule should not haue wandred without the felowship of faithfull Fidelia, nor gone into the graue, without the company of me thy most assured till death. Thou willest me not to driue off with delay, for that tomorrow bréedeth sorow: know thou therefore Narbonus, that Fidelia is vowed thy faithfull féere, and thou the only Saint that I will serue, and the barking of fearefull Cerberus in Hell, or the gaping of that Dragon of Hesperia, shall neuer cause me forsake thée, or euer force me flie from thée: the which to confirme somewhat more [Page 91] surely, and to bind as we are willed with the bonds of a­mitie, take héere my hand, otherwise my heart shall seale me a spéedie pasport: therefore giue me quickly my death, or yeeld me the thing, without the which, I will neuer af­ter this day behold the sunne, or looke vp to Heauē, which is thy swéete selfe, and no other thing.

Narbonus you imagin, or else do I quickly gaue hir his hand, and would I thinke haue died in hir embracings, had not the company bin there.

O faithfull Fidelia, the fréendlyest that euer breathed, and the swéetest that euer liued, how am I rapt that earst was bestraughted? and how reuiued, that but now was at deathes dore? am I in Heauen, or do I holde my auntient habitation? thy life my ioy, and I will not liue, but to die with thée, nor die, but to do thée seruice.

But Narbonus, as I haue yéelded thée my life, & as thou louest me, vse secrecie, and hold thy hande on thy mouth, til such time as our ioyes may be obteined at y ^e full, & our mariage rites celebrated to the depth of our desires.

The rest of the cōpany had spent this time in pleasant talke, & now were set roūd togither, where they al cōdis­cended that euery mā shuld tell a pleasant tale: to y ^e which Narbonus was enuited, and Fidelia willed to make vp the messe, who came as ioyfully as they were requested ear­nestly, & it was alotted a Gentleman of y ^e company should begin, & the other cōsequently to follow, who began thus.

THere dwelt in Venice a Merchant, Marcellus del Hespado, and Madona Maria. whose credite caried some port, and his word was worth much. This yong youth longed belike to be in loue: for in euery corner hée was wooinge, séeking alwayes some one honest woman, and sometimes amōgst the maidens of Flora: he was mo­ued too much with diuers honest mens daughters of great calling, & good behauior, but none liked him, or pleased his fancie, but one of his owne choosing, and not of any o­thers. Thus fed he his fancie, now with this Dame, then with that Damsell: nowe louinge, then lustinge: [Page 92] now suing, then seruing. After this lawlesse life ledde by the space of certaine moneths, and that he waxed wéerie of this diet, he fell in loue with a manerly mayden, as he thoughte, but in déede such a one as was hired for euery mans siluer, and set to sale at a certaine price, and long it was ere he could get graunt of hir consent, or winne hir to his Wife, yet another man might haue borowed hir good cheape, or at the least of an easie price: she so flattered him to the will of his fancie, and so bragged alwayes of hir honestie, which he thought to be most true, and that he had found some singuler péece: and to make him beléeue the better of hir honestie, and to thinke that she could not be but good, she would hit him in the teeth with some one man of his profession, or some woman so honest as hir selfe, that had bin plagued for their wickednes, and puni­shed for their sinnes. My maister Merchant thought hir pennie good Siluer, and that there was no better hay in Denshire, determined therefore to abide the brunt of this bargaine, and to dispatch his mariage: which ended, and that he had certaine dayes vsed hir companie, he suspe­cted that which was so indéede, and beléeued that whiche was so true as his Créede, for he perceiued hir trickes and hir toyes: hir becks and hir glauncings: hir paynting, and hir paltring: and though it be a matter méerely mistru­sted in Italy, to conference and familiaritie of a mans Wife, yet vsed she hir former fashions that way, and de­nied not to talke with any: but she had a wrong Sow by the tayle, for that he was acquainted with these caruers before: he therefore bewayled his vnfortunate wedding, and wished it had neuer bin done: but séeing no remedie, & that necessitie is lawlesse, he determined to put away his Wife, or else to put away himselfe: then to put hir away, or to cast hir off, the discredite would be as much to him, as now the ill name was to hir: and to retaine hir, and not to forsake hir, euery man would laugh him to scorne, and point at him in the stréetes: he deuised therefore this pra­ctise, and put it straight in proofe, his Lands he was con­tent [Page 93] to leaue with his Wife, bycause they were not easie to be caried, and to sel them, would bréede great suspition, and to morgage them, or borrow money on them, his re­t [...]rne was vncertaine: therfore so hee would not deale, but tooke vp of his creditours to the value of thrée hun­dreth Duckets, or neare that quantity, thinkinge to sée some chaunge before the consuming of so much coyne: as for his wife hee made her priuie to none of his dealinges but pretēded a voiage into the Countrey, where he would shortly returne, and foure dayes should bee the longest he would stay: But the olde Bée his wiues Mother, doubted of his driftes and perceiued his shiftes: the night before hee should goe, hée pounced his Portmantue with Porti­gues, and stuffed it with Duckets, laying it in his Cham­ber, as if there had béen no such matter: his lawles Mo­ther, or Mother in law, when hee was soundly sléepinge, (not without the cōsent of his Wife) conueyed closely out of his Chamber his packet, and brought it into her owne, where shée oppened it, and found that shee suspected: shee therfore tooke out all the Portigues, and plucked out all the Duckets, except a iust hundred, which shée lefte to sus­taine his wante, and conuayed therin by weight so many Counters, and in the same place where out shee had the money, and afterward laide it where [...]hee found it, as if no man had seene it: in the morninge hee rose early, and tooke leaue of his now wife, promising to returne shortly, and in déede hée returned sooner then hee was minded at his goinge. Then did hee secretly conuey himselfe into a Shippe, ready to sayle into Spayne, who staied but his com­ming, and then hoysed sayles: no sooner on ship bourd, but they wayed their Anckors, and sayled so prosperously, that within a shorte time they ariued in Spayne, at the appoyn­ted place of landing: my young Maister had some money lose in his pocket to pay his Boate hire, and to serue cer­taine dayes after: comming to his Inne, hée deliuered his cariage to his Hoste, desiring him to bée carefull of it, for oppening it (a litle) shewed, saying there are thus many [Page 94] Duckets, and so many Portigues: and Fortune was so fréendly, and his happe so good, as the money lay right a­gainst the place hee opened, and his Hoste saw nothinge but Golde: then his Host tooke it in his handes, & iudged there was so much by the waight therof: promised ther­fore warrantise for the safety therof, and that hée would answers what ere was therin: My young Maister went into the Towne as well to sée, as to be seene, making him selfe so merry as he might, and delighted him selfe so well as hee could: the charges for his dyet was meruailous great, and his expences more then he thought they would bee. One day askinge for his Casket, to reache out some money, which deliuered him, hée tooke out aboue twenty Duckets, openinge but a little hole to put in his hande, and that right against the place where they lay: for had he put his hand on the right side, he had pulled out Counters: and had hee put his hand on the lefte, hee had raught out counterfeytes: but he closed it vp in the sight of his Host, and his Hostes was there present, rendring it to bée kept againe, which was layde where as before: the good man of the house retayned a seruant, to do [...] such his businesses as hee appointed him, who espying his pray, and thinking the money had beene much, pretended a voyage into Por­tugall, to see his olde fréendes, and to speake with his fa­ther before hee dyed, who as hee sayd was very olde, and that longe sithens hee had not seene him: his Maister gaue consent, and speedily procured him a Pasporte, who no sooner had it, but the day following departed, and toke the Budget with him: This trauayling Traitour, and maister filcher, thrée daies on his iourney, and far ynough from their getting, this Casket was missinge, and euery corner sought, & euery rush remooued that was suspected, or where they thought it might bee hidden: but all to late, the money was gone, and the man was away: the good man was sorowfull beyond measure, and knew not what to doo: the day followinge, and dinner ended, his Hoste questioned with him of this thing: then demaunded he of [Page 95] some other quite contrary, and amongst other matters, of his Casket, and the somme of money therin, who answe­red there were thrée hundred Duckets, where out he had taken twenty: well Sir, sayd his Hoste, more or lesse, whatsoeuer there was it is iust all gone, not so much as one péece lefte: wherat my younge Maister halfe dead to heare these newes, and sorowful beyond measure, tolde his Hoste that hée should answere him so much, or else the Law should yeeld him nothing: his Host feareful to haue this trechery knowen, for that the discredite would be his, would gladly agréed to any reasonable matter, and to some agréement though with great losse: intreated therfore his guest to take parte of the money, for the principall pa [...]ri­mony: the other liuyinge the waight of the matter, and foreseeinge how troublesome it would fall out, consented his Hoste to giue him one hundred Duckets, and he to dis­charge all his debts, and to make cleare with the house: my younge Maister by that time his dyet was payed for, and the house quite discharged, had left but fifty Duckets, much lesse as hee imagined then hee brought foorth, but the more wronge had my Hoste, and yet the greater his gréefe: This slaue, seruaunt to his Host, & well moneyed as he imagined, arriued in Italy & landed at Venice, where when hée opened, and found but Counters, he was almost mad, and more then halfe foolish, for that hee had forsaken his owne Countrey, and lefte his good Maister vnac­quainted there, and not knowing how to get into seruice: but forcinge him selfe to doo that hee neuer thought, and puttinge that in practise hee neuer looked for, offe­red his seruice to manye, and diuerse motions were made, but none accepted, nor no entertaynment could bee had: passinge alonge the Streates, and runninge thus vp and downe, hee happened on the house of Ma­dona Maria, the good wife of my younge Maister: shee because hee was a straunger thinkinge hee should some way delight her, entertayned him, and receiued him into seruice, where hee bestowed his stollen Budget [Page 96] in his Chamber, the whiche he thought would neuer bée séene of the right owner, nor marked of any. The credi­tours of whome this money was borowed, and where hée receyued his Crownes, came at the appoynted daye, or shortly after: Mistresse Maria with that summe hir mother had taken from hir husband, and with some part of the re­uenues of his Lands, paid the debt, and receiued a bill of discharge. Sir Marcellus del Hespado, my yong maister, his Crownes welnye consumed, and his pursse very thin, saw no other shift, nor could deuise any other meanes, but to repaire home, and that with spéede: taking therefore Shippe with a Merchant of Venice that was trauelling homeward, making a vertue of necessitie, questioned by the way of diuers matters, and en [...]red of the estate of Venice, then he asked him of such a stréete, and for a Gētle­woman dwelling there, named Maria: the other answered, he knew the Stréete very well, as for the Gentlewoman, he hard that good report, and that it was most true that she was counted a light woman, and one of a very yll name: but now so loathing that whiche was reported she loued, and hating that which it was sayd she embraced, there is no one in the Towne better disposed, nor any that doth liue in better or more honest order: and you shall vnder­stand, that being beautifull, and also very faire, yet hir cō ­ditions at that time not honest by reporte, nor so good as they might haue bin. One Marcellus a yong Merchant of good calling, and his credit inferiour to few of his yeares, first liked hir, and after maried hir: when afterward sus­pecting that which was sometimes true, and imagining that it could be no other, departed from hir almost a yeare since, his departure vnknowen to any, from which time, hir life hath bin so honest, and hir doings so well liked of, as she is beloued of many, and lamented of all that knowe hir: and were hir life knowen to hir Husband, and hir do­ings manifested to him by anye meanes, he woulde post home with spéede, and hast to haue hir honest companie.

Marcellus at these words his eares so glowed, and he [Page 97] was so rauished with ioy, as hée thought long till hée came on shoare, and desired to know the certainty of this mat­ter: once safely landed, and gotten into the Towne, to bée more certaine of that hée had heard, and in no wise to bee beguiled, went to an vnknowen place in the Towne, and where hee was vnacquainted: The next day disguised him selfe, and wore a heard borowed in such order, as hee was not suspected of any, nor beknowen to his wife: go­inge to the house of Maria, alwayes in the eueninges, and when it was darke, who first enquired for her, and soone obtayned to speake with her: then makinge loue to her, brake the effect of his whole minde, and plyed the matter very harde, but no graunt of good will could bee gotten, nor any fauour showen: but answered hee would not bée, nor bee shifted of by any meanes, except hee obtained his desires, and gained that, for the which he made such suite: Shee séeinge hee would in no reasonable matter bee per­swaded, nor answered with reason, disdained to speake with him, and forbad him her house, except his pretence were lesse preiudiciall to her purpose, and more benificial for her honesty: but shee not knowing how to shifte him off, nor what way to leese his company, practised that her Mayde should lye with him and vse him knauishly: at his next comming, hee found her more tractable then before, and seemed to condiscend vpon certayne condicions, and so consented hee should come that night, appointinge him y ^e time hée should repaire: who presently departed, thin­kinge all had beene but lyes reported to him: hee therfore procured two knaues hired of purpose, and such as were contented to doo any thing for money, thinkinge now to take a sufficient reuenge, and by this deuice, to put her away. At the hour appointed, and within the time she had limitted, my yonge Maister came marching to the house, and these Ruffians with him, who entred the house so cunningly, and conueyed them selues so closely, as they were not perceiued of any, nor knowen that they were within the doores: Maria welcomed this forlorne guest, [Page 98] and brought him to his Chamber, where shée willed him to vnray his Robes, and goe into his bed, which done shee promised to come quickly to him, but the Candle must be out whilest shee made her vnready: meane while the Mayde shifte into the Chamber, and went into the bed to him: her Mistresse conueyed her selfe into her owne Chamber, and lefte her mayde in bed with her Maister: he dallyed and imbraced her a certaine space, but yet could not obtaine the thinge hee proffered so faire for, but was as much satisfied when hée layde him downe, as when hée arose: they had not beene laide the space of an houre, or little more, but these hirelings had lighted their Torches and found the way vp, came into the Chamber, and so to the side of the bed: then Marcellus leaped out of the bed, and pulled on his beard: now Minion saide hee, I per­ceiue that to bée, and with that looking full in her face, and seeing her not to bee his wife, helde downe his head, and had not a worde to say.

Then the Mayden looked so pittifully, and began to wéepe, affirminge that what shee had doone, was to saue her Mistresse honesty: I am neuer the more dishonested for lying with you, neither would haue beene had you con­tinued till morninge: you may vse mee at your pleasure, and deale with mee as you liste: but before you get my mayden head, or spoile mee of my virginity, you shall depriue mee of my life, or thrust your Sworde thorow mee.

Marcellus gaue these Torche bearers their hire, and rewarded them with a little péece of money, & made them swere, neuer to vtter this to any, nor euer to speake more or lesse of it.

They departed, hée shut the doores after them, and cer­tified the Mayde that hee was her Maister: and for that her honesty, and because shee loued her Mistresse so well, hee rewarded her so bountifully, and gaue her so liberal­ly, as she repented not the bargaine, nor was sory for that was past.

[Page 99]Then hée willed her to take the Candle, and to goe to­wardes her Mistresse Chamber doore, where shee knocked softly, and made but smal noyse, yet awaked her Mistresse who lay for that purpose: shee arisinge, and openinge the doore, espyinge him comminge in, whom as shee thought would haue lyen with her: began to cry out, and to rayle on her Maide: but hee desired her to be content, & shewed her that hee was Marcellus, then hee craued forgiuenesse of her, & desiring her to forget what was past, protestinge euer after so to content her, and to blot out this his foolish deuices, as shee should not dislike of his loyalte, nor blame his ingratitude.

Shee then imbraced him, & willingly consented to agrée to what he would haue her: all that night he neuer made any motion to her of his borowed money, neither tolde shée him how it was discharged: her man shée had sent in­to the Countrey not far off, the day before, who made hast, and posted so quickly, that hee came not home that night, nor the next day till towardes the eueninge: in the mor­ning Marcellus rose and looked about his businesse, sear­ched vp and downe the house to sée how orderly all things were vsed, and how his wife had handled the matter, but hee found euery thinge so well, and no one thinge other­wise then it ought, as hee reioyced that hee was come home, and was sorowfull that hee stayed so longe away: goinge from one place to another, and from chamber to e­uery corner, hée espied the Budget in the chamber where his man lay, and found that which hee neuer had thought to knowen: he let it lye still where it was, and sayd neuer a worde of it, beefore night her man came home, hauing dispatched his businesse: then Marcellus asked him if hee had neuer seene him before, or if he were not a Spaniard borne: wherto hee aunswered that hee was borne in Spayne, but hee neuer sawe him beefore: then hee had the Maide fetche a Budget, lyinge in suche a Chamber, whiche brought, hee asked him if it were his, and where hee had it? hee answered that it was his, and that [Page 100] hee brought such thinges as hee had in it: then hee asked him if hee dwelt not in such a Towne in Spayne, and were not seruaunt to suche a man? wherto hee answered, that he was such a seruaunt, and in such a Towne: now sure­ly sayd Marcellus thou shalt bee hanged, for thou meritest no lesse: this Budget was mine, and thou haddest three hundred Duckets therin, then she winge it to his Wife, shée affirmed it was so: The fellow fell on his knées, bee­séeching him of fauour, and desiring mercy of him, and he would shew the effecte of the matter: then his wife whis­peringe in his eare, and callinge him aside, tolde him the whole matter, and confessed the conueying in of the coun­ters: the fellow thinkinge hee should surely bee hanged, and that there was no remedy [...]or the losse of his life: they busie in talking, and hee watching his tide, slipped out of the doore, and was neuer seene after. This is most true sayd the Gentleman, and not inuented by my selfe, for the Gentleman is yet lyuing that knew both the Marchaunt, and had seene his Wife.

This tale contented the company a little, but would better haue liked them, had it not beene so longe: then Narbonus was requested to bee the seconde man, and that his turne came then about: wherto hée made no great de­nyall, nor seemed very well contente, but would gladly y ^• some other should haue spoken for him: yet willing to do as the company would haue him, he began as followeth.

THere dwelt in the Ile of Rhodes, a certaine Pirate, or Rouer on y ^e Sea, who many yéeres had vsed this kinde of life, and fortune seemed alwayes mutable in his doo­inges: for sometimes hee was ritche, and sometimes pinched with pouerty: sometimes his bagges filled, some­times his Purse pennyles: sometimes hee bounced in brauery, and sometimes hee marched in misery. On a time his happe was to loose all his gooddes, and to sinke his Shippe, drowned many of his men, and escaped hardly with his owne life: and likely then to come to [Page 101] greater penurie, and to wade farther in the Sea of [...], except he prouided better for himselfe, and looked more earnestly to his businesse: bethinking ( [...]) what was best to be done, and how to deliuer himselfe from danger, remembred he had there a brother of great calling, and his credite very much, determined to repaire [...] him, to proue how he would pleasure him. Trauelling certayne dayes on his voyage, and almost wierie of his life, [...]ith the forow he conceyued, found (by good hap) in the way a bagge of Siluer: who ioyfull for this good turne, and mer­rie in mind that he spedde so well, determined not with­standing to repaire to his brother, and to spend the rest of his life with him, neuer to professe the life of a [...]er a­gaine, nor any more to delight in such [...]. Mar­ching on his way, and mana [...]ng thus his [...] stoppes, not farre now to go, and within one [...] iourney of his brothers h [...]se, he found a bagge of Golde, heauie [...] than the first of Siluer, layde downe the [...] and tooke vp the Gold, for (said he.)

With that looking on Fidelia, he [...] staide, and could not [...]tter one word more. The companie earnestly entreated him, and courte [...]usly requeste [...] him to [...] that was begun, and not to flée touch in the middle of the mat­ter: but he craued parden, and desired so earnestly til some other time, as they were contented, and woulde not aske him any more: wherevpon the company all rose vp, and forsaked that kind of sport, and deuised some other to passe the time as pleasantly, and to content all as quietly, for too much of one thing is vnsauerie for anything, and too much pleasure is ill for profite.

Then the musicke sounded, and they all fell to dancing, first the old Gentlemen, and then the ancient Gentlewo­men, so the yong youths, and then the manerly maydens: euery man ledde a Gentlewoman by the hand, and Nar­bonus marched in the fist of his Mistresse: alwayes as the musicke ceased, the company talked, euery one tolde his Gentlewoman some tale: & Narbonus shriued his Sainct [Page 102] as foloweth.

Mistresse Fidelia, whether this motion be Heauenly, or Angelical, [...] he by the Goddes or terrestrial? whe­ther by the spirits internall, or by the diuine powers, I know not wh [...]t this loue i [...], neyther whereof it is deri­ued: but surely, in my iudgement, and according to my small skil [...] it is so secret a thing in nature, and procéedeth in such order, as all the writers can not sufficiently point the perfect proportion, or all the Diuines atteyne to ma­nifest the ground thereof. I know not how the desires of other men are moued, and so am I ignorant, whether their appetites fall out in such order as domine, but for my part, the more I looke, why the more I loue: the grea­ter fight I gaine, the greater is my desire: the more the company that is with me, the more inwardly procéedeth the motion, so as t [...] all other desires, and for euery other sight, this farre differeth, and is quite contrarie: the mu­tuall friendship made her [...], and the [...]o [...] of pa­rents towards their children séemeth quite [...] to this, and altogither differing: Then speaking softly in hir eare, because none shoulde heare. In my tale (sayde he) comming once to Golde, estéeming that to [...]e of most va­lue in this World, and the only thing that all men de­sire, looking then vpon you, and beholding your fate, more precious than all the Gold in the World in my eye, or of more estimation, than the greatest iewell whatsoeuer: not able to speake one word more, or to make some ende of that which was begonne, pardon me therefore I pray you, and let it not offende you, for when you shall please héereafter to commaund, I will fully resolue you, and perhappes féede youre fancie with some other delighte more pleasant, and make you merily disposed with some toy more pretie: And for that the time requireth not now to stande vpon trifling toyes, and too shorten this time with troublesome tales, for that our matters are of more importance, and our affaires of greater weight, youre councell in this case must be comfortable, and your de­uice [Page 103] paide of danger, for that lingering may import disli­king, and delayes bréede doubte: [...]oo dot [...] or experien [...] teache vs, and do we not see it our selues, that boyling leade will [...]e as colde as stone: first let vs vanquish those thoughts, which other wise wil breede our decayes, which once repressed, and troden vnder [...], we may b [...]ast with victorie, and triumph with ioy, [...] slayne hi [...] Enimies, he had escaped him [...]elfe, but thinking [...] to blotte out their rage, and to put their déedes in t [...]o [...]li [...] [...], he vndid himselfe, and moue the [...] destruction. Had Romeo [...] first, and manifes [...]ed the intent of his [...] done very wisely, and [...] licence for the [...] of [...] faithfull friends, and if Narbonus take [...] it is time he must stay the fall, and abide the [...] Therfore Fidelia ▪ for the inward [...] loue, and the [...]tward [...] let vs n [...]t flatter our [...]elue [...] in the [...] nor [...] off [...] with del [...]yes [...] is condemned and [...]he hopeth [...] our hope will little auayle if fortune [...] shall we hope for when we are [...] of our pur [...]s [...] [...] The olde saying is, Hope well, and haue well: hope for [...] rope, and haue a haulter: not so, when the thing is at [...] be, put it not to shall be▪ as we [...] had prosperous e [...] ­uentes, so m [...]y we haue contagious rauillings: the thing that is to day, to morrow was: to day wee enioy life, to morrow dead and gone: to day wée liue in libertie, to morrow we pine in prison: to day we [...]imme: in pro [...] ­speritie, to morrow wée are drowned in aduersitie: a [...] we are not sure so are we [...]: we [...] of wealth, and to morrow vncertayne of w [...]e: but we may be vncertayne of the [...], and not sure of the other, put downe therefore your mind with my determination, and what you shall thinke good, I shall not thinke yll: what you desire, not disliked of me. Fidelia therfore, framed hir selfe to make him an answere, and sp [...]ke as followeth.

[Page 104]Beloued Narbonus, fully to satisfye you what the sub­stance of loue is, or to wade that way farther than I may safelie come backe againe, my senses are altogither vn­able, and my wit too wanton to make you a warrantise: but as my skill was neuer schooled, and my mind vnmor­tified, my rimes must be without reason, and reason not so reasonable, a [...] sufficient to satisfie: yet thus much my brayne can hol [...] forth, and this I dare presume to say, the richest and the greatest, the highest and the lowest, the proudest and the poorest, the strongest and the stoutest, not only men mortall, but also Gods deuine, haue bin en­tangle [...] with lo [...]e, and pric [...]ed with his piercing Dart. [...] vnder the likenesse of a Boy & suche like t [...]ke [...] vpon him, to inuest the virginitie from vs sim­pl [...] [...] ascendeth from the heart, and doth en­fl [...]me the minde, a mixture in the heauenly [...], and a [...] and [...], where the fauour of the [...] and complexion of the other, is added to coequall sub­stance [...] an every respect [...] examples of the [...] of [...], and the [...] of [...]oures, we haue a number to [...] great to recite in a day▪ and more than now reason would I should name: as Dido, Deianira, Procris, Phillis, Bacchi [...], Prolixena, with others too many for their pr [...]fites, and little to the pleasure of others: whatsoeuer it is, or how the meaning is, let it be what it can be: you haue tasted a little, and I haue tried, somewhat, as for drifts (indéed) bréede but doubtes, and delayes cōmonly bring dangers: when the Sunne is set, it is too late to call backe that day againe: and when the clocke strikes, the houre is passed: when death is in the dish, i [...] bootes not to bid him tarrie: and when the man is dead, what should the surgion doe? all Trees haue their times, and all séedes their seasons: all plants their planets, and all beastes their bearing: all Foules their feathering, and all fishes their engendring: Whē the Eagle hath cast hir old bill, she can not put it on againe: when the Snake hath left hir skinne behind hir, she can not créepe into it againe: when the Henne hath [Page 105] hatched hir Chicke, she can not put it into the shel againe: and when the Bucke hath cast his hornes, he can not put them on againe: euery propert [...] hath his portion, and e­uery sute his season: euery fashion his action, and euery qualitie his cause: euery profite some discommoditie, and euery good motion entangled with some yll meaning: the Sunne riseth, but falleth not there at night: the Moone encreaseth and decreaseth not in one fort nighte: the Cloudes that rocke to the East, returne not presently thi­ther againe: the tide must be taken at the full, for time ta­rieth not for any. Bycause therefore, time shall not trie vs Traytours, nor prolonging shall not cause repenting: you shall vnderstand that I will pretende a voyage, and frame some excuse therefore, a little into the Countrey, about foure miles from the town: where for change of di­et, and altering my fare, where in stéede of Partrich and Quayles, I shal find Cruddes and Creame: for Pheasant and Kayles, Puddings and Pancakes: for Capon and Swanne, Butter & Bacon: there I will stay a fortnight at the least, but as I thinke more, in the which time you may cloake your craft, and coyne some excuse to make vp our nuptiall rites, and quickly to dispatch what eare you shall thinke good: which ended, you may returne when you please, and departe as you shall sée occasion: then after­ward we may stay a tide, and watch the time when we may vnfold our doings, & manifest that whiche hath pas­sed, and therevpon take my hand in stead of my heart, the one I can giue you outwardly, the other I can affoord you but inwardly. Looke to your loyaltie, & remember y ^e time.

And therewithall turning hir from him to sincke all suspition, and that the dauncing was ended, she went to the other company, and left him eleuated to the Skyes with Moyses into Heauen, or raysed as Lazarus was re­uiued from the graue: he swamme so in the Seas of secu­ritie, and bathed so in the beatitude of his owne blisse, in such order, as he knew not whether he were bestraught, or amased: heauenly were his cogitations, and angelicall [Page 106] his glories: his meanes wer without measure, & his hap­pinesse without hardnes: for now he had atteyned y ^e pl [...]a­sures which in this world his soule desired, & all that he required could not be more thā he had now granted him.

This courteous company hauing spent the best parte of the day, and delighted themselues as they desired, gaue the grauitie of gratulation, thankes for their boldnesse, and courtesie for their kindnesse.

Narbonus tooke leaue of Fidelia, and gaue hir the gentle Conge, he well pleased, and she a little eased, and both better contented than earst before they consented.

Fidelia going along with hir father, & talking of cōmon matters, remembred him of his promise, & entreated him to perfourme it▪ of hir going into the Countrey: and now the day was expired, wherat he made no great denial, but gaue hir his consent. Now hir iewell boxe al this time I trust was making readie, and hir apparell péered on: now she would go with this gowne, and then with that other: now these lawnes, and then that linnē: now these ruffes, & then those rings: now these slippers, & then those shoes: now these gloues, and then those bongraces: euery thing was too much, & yet all too little: the least were too great, & the great not good ynough. The appoynted day appro­ched, & the desired day come, hir Horsses head woulde not be giue for washing, nor his bridle bought for biting: his mane would not be bought for shauing, nor his taile giuē for clipping: hir sadle set on surely, hir stirrop steadie, hir cloathes costly and curious, hir bitte after the finest fashi­on, euery thing so well, and yet all not good ynough.

Now is Fidelia on Horssebacke, and aboute to ride, as the long desired, more curious than coy: more curteous than cumbersome, more trifling than troublesome: euery thing was amisse that liked hir not, and all awrie that pleased not hir fancie: she spéedely arriued at the place she rode to, & quickly came thither, for that it was not farre: hir Horse trode vpon thornes, and she fate vpon nettles.

Such is the furious force of hote loue, such the motions [Page 107] of that molested mind, whose lust is vpon liking, & whose liking hath gained the thing desired: suche is the inwarde instigation of that senselesse misterie: such the déepe desire of mutual confederacie: But had Fidelia knowen hir ma­riage day had bin so farre off, she woulde not haue made such hast: and had she séene before what followed after, she woulde haue stayed in Vienna, and not haue gone into the Countrey: but as there is no one thing in this worlde certaine, so is there not any thing but tasteth of vncer­taintie: one man accounteth such a day to be maried to a wife, and the same day is wedded to his graue: one thin­keth to winne the goldē spurres, and gaineth the hempen haulter: some one man thinketh to winne all the worlde, & léeseth his owne life. After Alexanders great Cōquests he thought to haue greater, but he entred Babylon with great triumph, and there left his life. Was not noble An­thony of Rome one day a mighty prince, the next day forced to wander y ^e wods? Holofernes more desired the cōpany of Iudith, than the conquest of his desires, & in gaining hir he thought to get what was desired, but his getting cost him his life, & if his gaine were good, he lost his head. Euery one hath his weale of wealth, & his time of happinesse, his field of felicitie, & his golden age: but how long resteth the shadow in one place? where staies the running water? or in what place doth the su [...]ne stand still? alwayes ebbing, or flowing, encreasing, or decreasing, waning or waxing. When the Apple is ripe, it falles from the trée, and whē the Rose is full blowen, it falles from the stalke: when a man is at the strongest, he waxeth weaker: when the grasse is at the gréenest, it chāgeth coulours: the child can not be borne, before it be bredde: nor the seede growen, be­fore it be sowen? these are the nouelties of Nature, & this the ficklenesse of Fortune: this the frailtie of the flesh, and this the vncertaintie of our happinesse. As one wax­eth rich, so another groweth in penurie: Some begger commes to the pomp of a Prince, some Prince to the paine of penurie. Bellezarius béeing a mightie Prince, [Page 108] yet tasted of the ticklenesse of Fortune, had both his eyes put out, and was forced to begge in the Marketplace. Caesar but of meane parentage, and at the first a common Souldiour, afterward a mighty Prince and Emperour of the thirde parte of the World: this is the mutabilitie of man, and this the happinesse of our felicitie, Quid certum in terris, or what vnder Heauen?

Narbonus now bragging in his brauerie, and boasting of his bare fortune, tiring of himself in the statelyest sort, and thinking his fortune inferiour to none, marching in the maintenance of merrie melodie, and reioycing in the greatnesse of his pranked pleasure, in suche sorte, as if he fedde his owne fancie, yet he displeased his Unckle: for thinking to please his mistresse, and to delight hir with daliances, he spared for no spending, nor cared for his rec­koning: he did what him liked, and liued as he lusted, he had all at commaundement, and nothing was restreyned from his custodie: he kept the keyes of the cofers, and so long he lacked no louers. He that earst was pensiue and poore, ciuill and honest, courteous and well disposed, is now retchlesse, and outragious, bouncing in brauerie, and frouncing in knauerie: swearing in silke, and swea­ting in sattin: ruffling in roabes, and pounced with pride: [...]aunting with a face of flatterie, and vaunting in the vale of dishonestie: for which, his Unckle was sorowfull beyond measure, and solitarie without any pleasure, vn­certaine what to do, or how to deale: which way to take, or by what meanes to procure remedie: alwayes doub­ting the worst, and euermore dissembling the best: such is the outragiousnesse of that sicknesse, and such the vn­medicinablenesse of that disease, that in procuring the fauoure of their Mistresse, purchast the displeasure of their God, careful to sped, & carelesse to gette: so it be had, what matter how? no bracelets, nor no toyes: no glou [...]s, nor no girdles: no garters, nor no [...]carfes, are eyther too faire, or too fine, nothing too déere, nor any thing of too great a price: for the brauer in sighte, the better [Page 109] excepted: the poorer in spirite, the lesse regarded: and the truer in dealinge, the likelier to bée a begger: Narbonus cared for no cost, nor spared for any spendinge, gaped for no gaine, nor regarded any profite: all was for pleasure, yet all beyond measure.

Fidelia was gone before into the Countrey, and looked longe for his comminge, where shee had gotten liberty for a moneth, and more if néede required, shée still counted the dayes, and reconed the times, longing for her lust, and hoping for her hap: but shee was no sooner in the Coun­trey, and had remained there a few dayes, but the case al­tered, and the winde turned South, very yll for his shoo­ting, and worse for his mouth: for the King of Spayne had sent Embassadours to the Emperour, which were then returned, hauing obtained their purpose, and gotten that they came for: which was for forty thousand men, which was spéedily graunted, and hastily prouided for: within twelue dayes this army was leuied, and all ready furni­shed: eyght thousand went out of Vienna, in which compa­ny Narbonus was one, the more his gréefe, the greater his Unckles sorow.

Narbonus imagined, bicause his Unckle bare such a port in the Towne, and that his credite was so great, that hee should bee excused, and pardoned for a litle money: but the better day, the better déede: the lustier man, the likelyer to doo his Prince seruice: but will hée, nill hée, hee had re­ceiued his presse money, and therfore must goe, no intrea­ting, nor no suinge: no complayning, nor any lamenting: Golde would not excuse him, nor fée buy his fréedome: here hee began to sweate, and then to sweare: nowe to stampe, and then to stare: now to rage, and then to raue: now to speake faire, and then to flatter: now to dissemble his gréefe, and then to burst out into wéeping: now to per­swade him selfe, and then to put some deuice in practise, to cause him stay at home, or to excuse his going: then would hée call him selfe foole, and asse, faint harted Lozell, and milkesop, dastard, and momarde, to bee afrayd of a fancy, [Page 110] and run away from a shadow: But all these fancies fled a­way like shadowes, and new supplyed their places: then meruailed hee whither Fidelia would continue faithfull, or flit away false and vniust: now shée would, and then shée would not: hee thought hee heard her say, because hee was fickle, shée would bée as false: then hee imagined shee wept, and now shee complayned: now shee wronge her handes, and now shee throbbed: now she sobbed, and then shee sighed: now shée lamented her losse, and then shee so­rowed her shame: now thought hée to write, and then to send: now to excuse him selfe, and then to condemne his folly: but takinge Inke and Paper, he began to write as followeth.

AFter those ten yeares of toyling trauaile, and trouble­some time, that noble Vlisses returned with victory, & gayned suche conquest as hee fought for: and saylinge on the Seas homeward, amidst the waltringe Waues, to auoyd that inconuenience, when he should passe amongst the Mermaydes, hee not onely caused all his men to stop their eares, but also him selfe hee bound fast to the Maste of the shippe, to auoide their sweete songes, and not to bée taken with their inticinge harmony: his painefull Pene­lope, and louing Wife, carefull of her honour, and fauou­ring him before any other, deuised the meanes to weary all wooers, and inuented a way to send them all going, so fast as they came: but no doubt: had hee not returned the sooner, shee would haue beene wearied, but findinge ney­ther.

Then pausinge there, hee blotted it out, for it liked him not, for hee thought with him selfe, & imagined thus. Should I accompt to stay so longe? or am I maried, that shée should not be wedded to any? no, no: out of sight, and out of minde: are there no moe men will shee say, but the Miller? nor no moe louers then Paris? let him goe if hee lust, and depart when hee please: Vienna wants no wooers then shall not Fidelia fa [...]le of some suters: shée is faire, the likelier to be looked on: shée is welth [...], the likelier to bee [Page 111] wedded: shee his honest, the likelier to haue a husband: shee is beautiful, the likelier to be imbraced: she is cour­teous, the likelier to bee compelled: shee lackes no guifts of nature, the vnlikelier shée shoulde wante a wedded féere.

But what sayest thou? or what do thy lippes babble forth? canst thou so rayle on thy beloued? or cāst thou rage at her that hates thee not? canst thou so raue on her that loues thy liberty, as she liketh her owne life? that honou­reth thy fréedome, as shee fauoureth her felicity: that ho­peth thy happines, as she hateth not her owne blessednes: no, no, Narbonus shée loueth thée, and shee will lyue with thée: But alas, how shalt thou liue with her? or how shalt thou enioy her, whose sight thou must forgoe, and whose presence thou must parte from? whose fauour thou must flye, and whose company thou must bee constrained to léese indeede: and to forgoe it, the greatest losse that euer lost Narbonus, and the greatest gaine that euer my selfe did forgoe: but write I will, and declare my minde, happe what happe may, then thus hee beganne as follo­weth.

THe shining Sunne whose bright beames, and rhadiant rayes, doo bringe comfortable consolation, and great happinesse to the whole earth, and to the whole masse of mankinde, who neuer resteth to recreate vs, nor neuer stayeth to comforte vs, whose night workes are nothinge, whose labour then auayleth not: our tra­uayle then is tedious, and our labour lothsome: our payne vnprofitable, and our pleasure vnsatiable: After all the worlde hath wonne the comfortable enioyinge of her, and that all the day shee hath satisfied vs as wee woulde, the westerne Mountaynes keepe her from our sighte, and depriue vs of our light, till the bright morninge when wee enioye that erste wee did, and haue the full fruition as the day beefore, and beginneth her light.

[Page 112]Then stayinge, and looking what hee had doone, dashed it out againe, and tooke other paper, callinge himselfe dotard, and foole: as who should say, that for so smal a time and for so litle a season, I should forgo the sight of my swéete Mistresse, and then inioy it againe: and how shall I enioy that which neuer was mine? or how shal I wear that I neuer had? the winde turneth often in a day, and a womans minde is remée [...]ed oftner in one houre: what shall I doo? or what meanes shall I worke? my Pen dis­daines to write, and my hand shakes that should holde it: my hart is colde, and my wittes are on wooll geathering: my inuentions is wrong, and my wrightinge contrary: These are signes of suspicion, and doubtes of dispaire: imaginacions that deuine some mischéefe, and dreames that prognosticate my death: but yet spur vp thy spirites, and wrest thy will▪ meruaile not on thy Memento, but thinke on the place whither thou must goe. Alas how I deuine, and how I foresée what will follow: can I escape death when I come there? how shall I deale to saue my selfe? how shal I that neuer was wearied with y ^e warres and that neuer tasted of those toyles: that neuer bid their broyles, and that neuer saw their shotte: that neuer hard the thundring of their Gunnes, and neuer was troubled with their angry alaroms: that neuer sawe their bloudy battayles: that neuer heard the skriches of those that are slayne: and shall not I walke in the fore Warde, and marche in the maine battaile? shall not I bée in the first fight, and bée thrust out, for that I am but a raw Souldi­our? how can I then escape? or howe shall I flye away? there may I sacrifice my soule for my sweete Mistresse, & offer there my last sacrifice: why? then Narbonus write thy last farewell, and neuer looke to speake more to her.

THis Letter sealed with sorow, and deliuered with danger, he gaue to a man of his Uncles, whose faith he credited, and whose trust in other matters before he try­ed. The next day his Unckle had oc [...]asion to send him in­to the Countrey, and to spéede him about some businesse, not farre from the place where she lay, nor greatly out of the way as she should go, who glad to pleasure Narbonus, and contente to perfourme his request, strayned a little courtesie with his Maister, and deliuered the letter.

Fidelia receyued the Letter, and rewarded the seruant, asking if it required answere, or if naught but the deliue­rie? who answered, not that he knewe of, and saide none that he heard of. The Seruant departed better pleased, than she was afterward contented: she therefore hasted to hir Chamber expecting some newes, and posted to open it, hoping for better then she found therein: for there was that comforted hir like the pangs of death, and that writ­ten, which delighted hir like the Diuels daunce: but rea­ding it, and pervsing it well, she looked on hir aperne strings, and hir minde was on hir maydenhead: she con­strued euery worde, and reconstrued euery letter: some­times she laughed though not hartelie, sometimes shée wept, but that bitterly: now she imputed hirselfe the first of this follie, and then she condemned him for a Traytour doing hir that iniurie: now she lamented the departure of suche a friende, and then she blamed his staying in the Towne: now shee confessed that hée entirely loued her, and dearely lyked her, with the greatest affection, and the most good will, of any that loued or any that enioyed this worlde: then she doubted his loyalty was not correspon­dēt to his property, nor his loue so great, but his lust was greater: for thē would he haue deuised a thousand shifts to [Page 118] procured his staying, and inuented a number of meanes to haue bidden at home. Now she persuaded hir fancie to find no more fault, and entreated hir desires to be content for purchasing hir libertie, he woulde gaine his owne in­felicitie, and get his owne death, rather than she shoulde be frustrated of hir wish: then she wished hir wauering will to let fall those fancies, and moued hir minde to ba­nish those doubts, to comfort hir selfe so well as she could, and to take the matter as merrie as she might: for that to say is not to do, and to promise faire, is not to perfourme plentie: for he spared not for speaking, but cared not for doing: dayned not to promise, but denyed to perfourme: therfore his meaning was but to wrest his wanton will, and so bid hir good night. And this last presumption, and fine imagination tooke such firme roote in the ground of hir heart, that there it grewe so long as she liued, and there it remained, vntill she was buried: for she stayed still vpon these poynts, and had alwayes these sayings by the end: to tarrie at home is cowardlike, and to lurke in a corner the part of a dastard: for (said she) had his loue bin so affectionate as his lust was outragious, he would haue cropen in a bench hole, before gon in such order, and line in some darke corner, before haue gone in such manner: is it dastardlike, and the parte of a momard in gaining a little credite, and perhappes with losse of his life to leese the purest propertie in this life, and to obteyne the onely felicitie in this worlde. He was no dastarde, for he durst deceyue so simple a mayden as my selfe, neyther was hée a dotard, for he could beguile me to whome he had pligh­ted his faith: but let him spurne at the Spanish péeces, and trie them with their trumpe [...]ies, as for my wooll it is but weatherbeaten, yet too fyne for his wearing, or too good for his handling: are these thy swéete Cirenes songs? are these thy paynted protestations? to sell thy safetie to trust a Stranger? and to bestow thy loue vpon some out­landish broode? they that tryed thée, must not first trust thee, and shée that enioyeth thée, must weare thée first a [Page 119] yeare about hir necke: but who will weare thée that art not woorthie to be wedded? and who will wedde thée that art more wanton than wise: the Drumme sounds, and thou must bée gone, the Captayne calles, and thou must away: if Vienna haue neuer more wante then to lacke so lustie a Lubber as thy selfe, nor neuer more di­stressed then being bereaft of so rancke a Rebell, the Towne will neuer repente thy departure, nor wish thy welcome home. How happie is thy good Unckle depriued of such an vnthrift? and how fortunate I Fidelia in forgo­ing so faithlesse a freend? thy Unckle may ioy thy speedie posting, and I be glad of thy happie hasting: thy Unckle is well lightened of a licentious loyterer, and I well de­liuered from so false a flatterer: But happie it was that my oare was stricken no farther in the bancke, and blessed was I that my Torch was burnte no further: fortunate was I that my Trée was not grafted: fauou­rable was my felicitie, that hée was in my hande, but out of my hearte: God graunt that I may as easilie re­moue him, as I was willing to entertayne hym: but my warrante shall bée written with water, and sealed with sauce: put into the Paper of obliuion, and deliue­red with the hande of forgetfulnesse. And arte thou in­déede gone Narbonus? then farewell faithlesse friend, and adue false Iason: thou sayest by séeing me, thou shalte see thy death, and beholding my face, thou shalte forgoe thy owne fauour: then shalte thou neuer die by my consente, and my countenance shall neuer seduce thee into thy owne destruction: am I a Basalike that my face will infecte thée? or Medusaes head, that thou wilt die with looking on me? hadst thou yet come thy sel [...]e, thou mightest haue spedde the better, or spo­ken in thy owne person, thy tale the likelier to bin heard: but Paper will not blush, and Incke doth be­wray, yet is not ashamed: if thou be ashamed to take leaue, I will be ashamed to entertaine thée at thy re­turne.

[Page 120]Héere was hote loue soone colde: what faire wordes? and what froward workes? what swéete lippes? and what soure sauce? woon with an Egge, and lost with an Apple: no sooner ripe, but readie to rotte: no sooner blowen, but blasted: no sooner sprouted, but bitten with the frost: hir Prayers were pitifull, hir sighes and sobbes, as though they would haue pierced the hard flint: hir words woun­ded the heart that heard them, and hir lamēting, mollified the minds of those that were within hir hearing: héere were Crocodili lothrinae, and déepe dissembling? she wh [...] earst would downe into Hell to pleasure his person, will not now kneele downe vnto Heauen to craue one little petition▪ but resolued hir selfe neuer to talke with him, or to come in that place where he was present: yet to worke his mischife, or to séeke some reuenge, she imagi­ned would but crake hir credit, and be a blotte to hir good name, therefore she was content to let him alone, but for euer to giue him the Basalos Manos.

If Fidelia were thus bereft of reason, and almost mad with melancholy, Henricus was as sorowfull for his Ne­phew, but that he hoped his safe returne, and fedde his mind that he would come hastily home again: his Unckle therefore furnishing him with money, and furniture, e­uerie thing necessarie, and a man to waite on him, betoke him to the preseruation of the Gods, and to the mercie of the waters.

Now is Narbonus on Shipboorde, and at the mercie of the waues, where his antient cogitations assayled him with a fresh supply, and troubled him so bitterly, as hée thought hee should neuer see Spayne, nor any part therof: hee imagined howe lamentably Fidelia would take his departure, and how sorowfull shée would be for that iour­ney: now how shee wept, and then how shee wailed: now how shee sighed, and then how shee sobbed: now how pit­tifully shee would bewayle his goinge, and how happely hee should be welcomed home: then thought he, perhaps, shée may bee lightly disposed, and wantonly giuen, for she [Page 121] was soone woon, and easilie entreated: and as quickly hee may bee lost, and as soone forgone: shée was easily caught, and as quickly may shee bee carued from mee: now I am gone out of her company, and departed from her sight: is it not likely that shée will retaine some other and like of one that shall tarry at home, more worthy per­haps then my selfe, & whose calling is greater th [...]n mine: more worthy, nay, perhaps more wealthy: for mine shée is by right, though some other haue her by rigour: and I wan her with loue, though some other wed her by lawe: I had her by inheritance, but some other may take posses­sion in my absence: But Fidelia is faire, so is shee faithful: shée is fréendly, so is shée fauourable: shée is amiable, so is shée loyall: shée is honest, so is shée iuste: As shée hath pro­mised, so will shee perfourme: shée gaue mee her hande, why then should not I retaine her hart? But thou foole that braggest before the victory, and reioysest before the goale bée thine: thou thinkest thou hast the Apple, and hast but the leafe: shée soone liked of mée, is shée not the likelier to loue some other? did I quickly win her? and may not some other spéedily wed her? did she not quickly loue mée? will not some other as speedily lust after her? and then because hee loueth, will she lust? and because hee wooeth, will shee wed any but my selfe? because hee burneth in desire, will not shee driue him in disdayne? and because hee fixeth his fancy in her feature, will shee therfore giue graunt that hee shall enioy his pleasure? no, no: vnder so faire a face cannot lodge so filthy a fact: and vnder so true a tongue cannot be hid pernicious poyson: in so beautiful a body, cannot bee any filthy infection: and so straight a hand, must haue as right a hart: For is it not common by probability, and see we not daily the tryall? that the fairer personage, the finer conditions, and the more deformed in body, the more defiled in deedes: Fidelia is mine, and shal not bee any others, and if my body cannot waite on her, my soule shall fulfill the vttermost of my imaginations. Drowned amidst these contrary imaginations, & sayling [Page 122] in the hart of these cogitations, now praising then disprai­sing: now louinge, then loathinge: now laughinge, then lamenting: now wishinge, then waylinge: now longing for life, then desiringe death: the boysterous windes began to blow, and the bitter blastes troubled their totter­inge Shippe: the wallowinge waues tumbled about the sides of the Boate, and the Billowes beate harde on her sides, which tottered on this side, and then tumbled that way to sea warde: wherwith Narbonus who was neuer at the Sea before, nor had at any time felt the force of the waters, grew so sicke, and so troubled with the water, as hee was without hope euer to come on shoare & more, & neuer thought to behold the faire face of Fidelia againe: where let him wallow amongst the waues, and trye his fortune with the waters.

PHemocles who had spente almost a yeare in Naples, & thought the time longe, profited so well as hee would desire, & gained his tongue perfectly: wherfore he wrote to his Father that his charges was great, and that time was yll spent: now hee had gained that hée went for, and obtained his purpose to the full: to which his reasonable request, and willinge demaund, his Father condiscended, & graunted his returne: procuring him therfore Horses, and other thinges necessary: hee spéedily willed him to hasten his tedious trauaile, and to come so quickly as hée could, but willed him to take easie iourneyes by the way, and not to toyle him selfe with rydinge, but might if hee would see the Countrey by the way, and come through all the Townes that hee thought any thinge worthy the re­membraunce there to bee séene.

Phemocles after the receiuinge of his letters, and the certifiyng from his Father, tooke leaue of his good com­panions, and betooke him to his Horse: where by the way his minde was mooued with many matters, and troubled with former motions: he remembred the courteous crue that accompanied him in Naples, and the great courtesie hee receiued at their handes: their passing pleasures, and [Page 123] their boasting in brauery: their sumptuousnes of appar­rell, and the lauishnes of their Purses: their pleasaunt sportes, and their excellent exercises: then their gallant Instrumentes, and their good musicke: the congregation of their Curtizans, & the fellowship of their faire Dames: their Iewels, and their Ringes: their Ruffes, and their Robes: their Lawnes, and their loose attires: their nice­nes in goinge, and their coynes in speaking: their cour­teous behauiour, and their comely graces: their painted faces, and their inticinge toyes: then their protestations in their prayers, and their deuout humility: their wor­shippinges of their Sainctes, and their guilded Crosses: their pratlinge Préestes, and their costly Copes: their Crucifixes, and their Wafer breade: their holly water stockes, and their Dirges for their deade. The remem­braunce of these thinges were so fresh in his minde, and the companye that hee alwayes vsed, as hee could not but deuine vpon them, and imploye his cogitations that way.

Then remembred hee the estate of their Weale publique, and thought vpon the estate of the layitie, as their Magistrates, and their Officers: their free men, and their Spiritualty: the seuere executinge of their Lawes, and the excellent Iustice vsed amongst them: the companyes of their fellowshippes, and the assembly of their meetinges: their benificialitie to the Poore, and the good orders for their mayntenaunce: nothinge dislyked him, excepte the not punishinge of Whoredome, and nothinge hee hated but the mayn­tenaunce of Userers: These dislyked him in lyuinge, and in conscience hee thought them woorthy of punish­mente: It was lawfull for to come to the house of any Curtizan, or else to their Chambers: Their Lute they vsed to gette the lykinge of any man, and their Cithernes to prouoke any man to their desires: If happely hee come, whom their lykinge dooth loue, or thinkinge to gayne ought by him, they woulde not [Page 124] spare for signes, and vse their eyes with winckes, and beckes, with countenaunces, and such like wanton toies: then to frame some fine songe, and to vse that instrument whose liking should be best beloued: Then came to his re­membraunce his faithfull freend, and best beloued Nar­bonus, who was the cause of his importunate hast, and the occasion he stayed no longer, minding the first occasion of their acquaintaunce, and the knitting vp of their fami­liarity, which hee hoped would in as large manner bee amplified, as euer it was before: Then hee deuised how to speake with him at his comming home, and how he should entertaine him, what wordes hee should vse to him, and how hee should blush at his first sight, how hee should dis­course of his time spent in Naples, and how he should shew to him the order of the Countrey: as well the ciuilitye of their Townes, as the ordinaunces of their spiritualty, and temporalty: doubtinge what should bee demaunded, and to what hee should make answere: then the pleasant talke that should passe betweene them, and their walking in the feeldes: the assembling to their Chambers, and the exercises they should vse: sometimes hee doubted of his health, and dreaded his welfare: sorowful to heare of any losses, and lamentinge to heare him any way perplexed, dreadinge euer the worste, yet hopinge alwayes the best: fearinge that any way hee should incurre the yll will of his Unckle, for that olde men doo hate the pleasauntnes of youth, and younglinges when their auncestors shewe them any thinge for their aduauntage, they thinke them to bee dotardes, or olde fooles: Then feared hee the gay­ning the yll wil of the Citizens, or some other his freends and so his loue should be turned to hate, and his good will to his owne disaduauntage: Then doubtinge he shoulde some way hurte him selfe, by dooinge some exercise, or any such like, which would bee more greefe to him, then payne to the other: Last of all, hee was sorowfull that hee must bestows his imbracinges, and vse his courtesie to some other before hee mette with Narbonus, [Page 125] that he should not be the first. This was the maner of his riding, and this the vsage of his trauelling: these the in­uentions of his thoughtes, these the sayings of his imagi­nations: this the effect of the bestowing of his loue: this the thought of a faithfull fréend: this the certaintie of his vncertaintie, and this the liking of his seconde mée­tinge.

As he was thus led in the lust of his desires, and drow­ned in the deapth of their remembrance, his fathers man desirous to heare him discourse of the order of his liuing, and the estate of the Countrey, beganne to boult forth these words, and spake as followeth.

Sir, the tediousnesse of your toyling iourney is so vn­comfortable, and your company so small, as with the one your witte is wéeried, and with the other your minde is moued, so as you can not frame your selfe to be merrie, nor dispose your passance to be pleasant.

Truly, replyed he, the toyle is tedious, and the iourney nothing ioyfull, with the memorie of the one I can not be refreshed, nor to forget the other any thing comforted: yet my heart is heauenly, and my mind inwardly moued with melodie, though my forces foulter outwardly, and my senses make no shew of iolitie.

Indéede, where the inwarde affections are framed so farre vnlike the outwarde cogitations: where the heart harboureth happinesse, yet the outward senses seduced to shamefastnesse, the soule sobbed with sorowes, and assay­led with sullennesse: it séemes very vnlikely the open ap­péerances, or outward motions, to import any signe of fe­licitie, or to make shew of any pleasant melodie: so secret­lie hath nature hidden these things, and so closely conuey­ed them in our thoughts: yet the outwarde sights souced in sadnesse, or the face making a shew of heauinesse, the interiour instigations may swimme in securitie, or the heart moued with delight, may flow in felicitie.

Trust me, said the other, for the secretnesse of nature, my iudgement is small, and my knowledge lesse: but this [Page 126] I know, y ^t the heart moued w ^t some sorow, y ^e mind can not be merie: but y ^• face may séeme frowardly to frowne, whē y ^e heart is eleuated to y ^e highest tipe of fortunate felicitie.

Sir (said he) let him that is happie, not hide it, and he that is merily disposed not prolong his pleasure: for in hi­ding the one, he may happe neuer to find the like againe, and in not declaring the other, neuer come to such a bar­gaine whilest he liueth.

Why then saide Phemocles, for that it séemes good to tarrie no mo tides for triall, nor to make any moe dayes of parleance, let thy talke tende to trifling toyes, and my witte shall be as wanton to reply to foolish follies.

Then I beséech you to manifest vnto me, and lay flatly before me the maners of that Countrey, and the ordinan­ces of the Neapolitane Nation, where you haue lente some little parcell of liberalitie, and spent some trifling time, to find out their feate phrases, and to be acquaynted with their rules of Rhetorike: And to begin of their fine fa [...]e, and delicious daynties, their brauerie of banquet­ting, and feasting fittest for their fancie.

To shew you prestrictly the dayntines of their diet, and the finenesse of their féedinge: their appetites are wel applyed to their tender stomackes, and wel bestowed to the health of their bodyes. Their meate is not much, nor their fare great, but that little that the yeate, holpen with the company of fine hearbes▪ and pleasaunt Oyles: with Lemmons and Pomgranats: Oringes and Oliues: as for their Wynes they wante none that wee haue, neyther haue wee any, but they haue so good. They eate but twice in a day, and banquet often after supper. Their drincking not so immoderate as oures, and their quaffing not so common. And in my minde, the order of their diet is excellent, & such as I could very well like of.

Then replyed he, trust me sir, they are greatly to be commended, and deserue muche praise: for druncken­nesse with vs is iested at, and gluttonie is no matter of conscience, the one infecteth y ^e body with diseases, y ^e other [Page 127] drowneth the sences frō all knowledge: & both (no doubt) are no salue for the soule, but a baite for the Diuell: Hell must be their inheritance, and not thinke scorne to daunce with his dam: But sir, for their Magistrates I beséech you speake a little, & for the Laitie, I pray you say somewhat?

The offices of their Magistrates, and duties of their Iustices, is executed in so good order, & so seuerely punished as I sée no one thing woorthy faulte, or any other that can be amended. A man may put his money to the greatest gaine, so it be priuelie, and take what interest he can get so it be not knowen. Murther there is death, and Fellonies very seldome escape. Treason executed with terrible tor­tures, and offending the Magistrates prestrictly punished. The Laitie deale nothing with the Spiritualtie, nor at any time meddle with their matters: for the Spiritualtie are greatly honoured, and dutifully reuerenced.

Replied the other, these vices of whoredome are great, and this sinne of Usurie is not tollerable: but let vs search our owne consciences, and examine our thoughts, and we shal be found farre more culpable, and much more enclined to wicked desires. As for the Priests, they are the elect people of God, or the graund Captaines of their Maister the Diuell: they may lie by authoritie, and steale without checke, robbe without rigour of the law, & commit Uenerie by the Statute. These Caterpillers may rauish as well Maidens, as defile Widowes: they can quickly sue their dispensatiō, & spéedely purchase the Popes Bul. The Wo­men are very great Uotaries, and deuout Templers, worshippers of superiall Saints, and honourers of the ce­lestiall powers. If maried, she neuer walketh to Church, or goeth in the stréets, without the cōpany of her husband, or some one of her kinsmē: for y ^• prince Iealousy is a great man amongst thē, and I thinke naturally they are all iea­lous. It is a hard matter for a man to talke with a mayde, except in the Church, or at some feast, they are so dayntie to be talkt withall, and so straight laced that way, as (for­sooth) they wyll not be found vnchast, or counted light: [Page 128] yet méeting them by chaunce, and not séene of any o­thers, they may haply geue you the hearing of some toy, or lend the harkning to your talke: But my curious Cur­tizans knowing you to be a stranger, and of any callyng, to play vnder your wyndow when you are newly layde, or the mornyng followyng to féede your fancy with some [...]ne song, and rather than fayle passing along the stréetes, or as by chance you walk by their dores, yf she sée you en­clyned that way, or giuen after her wyll, by signes they séeke to win you their subiectes, or by lookes allure you to bee their louers: but if with none of these beckes shee can bow you to her bent, then beware of her words, for other­wise she will win you to her wyles.

Then Sir, they broke theyr name for theyr curtesie, and are not curious in that lyberalitie, and I haue heard the men to be verye iealous ouer theyr wiues, and very doubtfull of their honesties.

If hée sée a man looke vpon his wyfe suspected by him, or talke with her, if he know not the man very well, he wyll vse him very curteously, and make an outwarde shewe of great frindship, when hee wyll present hym some daynty [...] deuice and closely conuey in it the Letter P. which eating it, hee shall neuer be troubled with the wyndcollicke, nor infected with any other disease.

Truly Sir sayd the other, you wanted I think no com­panyons, nor néeded any partners, howsoeuer you woulde dispose your selfe, or what exercise amongst others you would choose to vse.

No truelye replyed hée, let a man haue money, and hee shall not want friendes: or a good purse, and he shall lacke no good companyons, protesting great friendship, and offe­rynge great curtesie: but a man must bee lauishe of hys purse, and spende francklye: speake faire, and vse great curtesye: offer very much, though a man perfourme but lyttle: and they looke that a Stranger shoulde geue them place, and be care [...]ull how he handle his to [...]ng: otherwise, a man may boult out some foolyshe worde, or speake some [Page 129] [...]ond phrase, that he may euer after repent, and perhaps losse of his life. To dissemble is a vertue, and he that can not lie, must not there liue: he that vseth one of them of­fendeth God, but who so loueth them both, the Diuell will catch him.

Why then, a man must be courteous and curious, lo­uing, though but little: proffer faire words, what eare he professe in déedes: proude protestations, and double do­ings: two faces in one hoode, and two toungs in one mouth: lie for libertie, and dissemble to auoyde danger▪ then his pennie must be best siluer, and his groate best golde: his wordes most woorth, though his déedes least woorthy: he crowes well on his owne dunghill, but in a­nother place he will crie creake. But Sir, I thinke your departure was not procured with so great hast, but your desire homeward desireth as much spéede: and if you like [...] there well of your companyons, yet those at home will be farre better loued: for if in a strange place a man haue health, and libertie, wealth and riches, pleasure, and pa­staunce, whateuer his heart desireth, and any thing that his soule wisheth, yet his owne Countrey is more déere, and his naturall fréendes better fauoured: so as a man will choose to liue poorelie at home, rather than Lordlike in a strange place.

Trust me replyed the other, you haue diuined like a Doctour, and hitte the nayle full on the head, shotte as streight as a thréede, and leuelled as with a line: for when I was in surest safetie, and no danger to be dreaded: when feare might haue fledde, and no malice was meant me, yet my heart séemed heauie, and my senses were not frée from suspition: so that for a season, after my arriuall, my boulster, the procurer of my sléepe, and my bedde, my only resting place, so filled my eares with franticke fits, and beguiled so my thoughts with vaine imaginations, that my couche of sléepe, was my Cabin of care, and my meanes of rest, my author of disquietnesse.

Truly said the other, my mind doth meditate no lesse, [Page 130] and my senses would be seduced into those opinions: the absence is not so gréeuous, nor the tract of time so intol­lerable, as the fraile feare conceyued from the sincke of suspition, and the troubled thoughts, which come of con­trarie cogitations: which if a man once haue gained some good companyons, or honest disposed persons to accompa­nie him, yet a man loueth, but freesed in feare, and liketh but to please their fancies: these are the doubts a man conceyueth: these are the maner of his diuinations: thus is he fearefull to offend: thus is he carefull to contente: thus is he alwayes redoubling his danger, and so is he neuer frée from suspition.

Replied Phemocles, many fréends I gained, and many fréendes I founde, some I tryed, and some I trusted, all were retained, but not all beloued: the best were liked, the worst were loathed: all had faire faces, but not all hartie graces: those which I loued, I lacked not, and those which I hated, enuied me not: for louing was my loyaltie to some, and swéete were my words to all: yet found I some as faithfull as friendly, and as trustie as a man woulde desire, and yet thinking on Narbonus, Vienna harboureth so faithfull friendship, and that our towne retaineth such linckes of loyaltie, as Naples, though fuller of nouelties, and more fine tearmes vseth, yet not suche lasting loyal­tie, nor suche plentie of honestie: for Vienna in my minde hath more delicious delightes, and more satiable securi­ties: more swéete smelles of auntient amitie, and greater plentie of sure friends.

But he missed his marke, and was deceyued of his say­ings, for the man was away, and that place not as he y­magined.

For that only place you haue great reason, and of du­tie you cā say no lesse: for there are your auntient amitie, and your old Segni [...]urs in familiaritie: your courteous kinsmen, and your fauourable father, whome to honour, and to feare: to aide and assist: to help and to praise: to fur­ther by all the meanes you may, and to set out to the vt­termost [Page 131] of your power: you do but your dutie, and fulfill but your calling: and in doing that your dutie, you depart not vnrewarded with courtesie: whose fatherly affection is so great, and whose comfortable care so manifest, as to sée you do otherwise than well, or miscarrie by what meanes soeuer, would neither comfort his conscience, nor like his fancie, but be as preiudiciall to his person, as so­rowfull to your safetie.

Thus passed they their passance, and wore out the wée­rie way with these pleasant discourses, & prettie posies, where after their tedious toyle, they came to their Inne, where Phemocles coulde neither eate meate for ioy, nor sléepe in his bedde for the pleasure he cōceiued of his tra­uell. Thus he swamme in securitie, and sayled (as he thought) in safetie, but how much was he wide? and how farre from his purpose? the maine Sea was betwixt his fréend and him, and Narbonus as much distant from him, as when he was in Naples, that painefull passage, and that long cutte, which was tedious in length, and dange­rous in trauell.

Phemocles now at the ende of his iourney, and hauing the full view of the Countrey, ariued very wel at Vienna ▪ & in good time, as he thought, hasted to his Fathers house, and stayed not in any place till he came there, whome hée found busied about matters of his owne estate, and tri­fling with those small things he had to do, where after obedience yéelded to his Father, and his duty fully per­fourmed, he as ioyfully welcomed him home, & as grate­fully receyued him, as he willingly wished, or hartelie required: who questioned with him of diuers matters, touching the estate of the Countrey, and enquired by what orders their Townes were gouerned, then how he hadde spente his time, and so, for the atteyning of his language, wherein he founde him so well profited, and that his time so well spent, as his Father was very ioy­full of his time of absence, and not a little gladde of his safe returne.

[Page 132]Afterward, they sate downe to dinner, and fed on such fare as there was prouided: which ended, and the Table taken away, Phemocles thought to find out his friend, and could not tarrie longer before he spake with him, wente to the house of his Unckle to enquire for him, and founde there the house, but the man was gone: there he enquired for Narbonus, and whether he were within? his Unckle answered, he was neyther in his house, nor yet in Germa­nie, then he shewed him the manner of his departure, and vpon what occasion.

Phemocles séemed with this tale not greatly discōtēted, nor déepely displeased, but dissembled his griefe, & concea­led his sorow: then repairing to his fathers house, & com­ming into it, whome he found readie for supper, and pre­pared to sitte downe: But how coulde he feede? or what meate could he eate? for he had alreadie taken that which he knewe not how to put ouer, and heard that with his eares, which he knew not how to disgest with his heart. Supper ended, he bade farewell to all, & gaue good night to his Father, he went to his Chamber, but not to sléepe, and into his bedde, but not to rest: laide in his carefull couche, and drowned in his soft bedde, he poured foorth these complaintes, and vttered these words.

And art thou gone indéede Narbonus? and was thy de­parture so spéedy? must thou vnneathes frame this vnfor­tunate voyage in the time of my absence? and perforce be forced whē I was not present? had I bin at home, or héere in thy hastie iourney, thy soule should not haue wandred without my company, nor thy presence departed without my comforte. Should not I haue bin a faithfull Titus in the time of thy tedious trauell? and a second Camillus to accompany thy wādring wittes in what place soener thy faithful felowship should pretēd passage, or to what Coun­trey soeuer thy toyling trauell should march forward? A­las, couldest thou not haue written some ragged letter, or some scribled lines? if not writtē, some small sayings sent by some messenger, who might himselfe manifested the [Page 133] memorie of thy trauell, & vttered y ^• pretēce of thy passage? Alas, who was this the harbinger of thy heauinesse, and the Pilot of thy Sea trauaile? which had I knowen by a­ny meanes, or heard by any motion, I would not haue staied though I had lost my time, nor lingred behinde to obtaine this my language: I would not taried to haue lost the good will of my fréendes, nor stayed, if I had gained the yll will of my Father: whose company to me is more curious then Coffers of coyne, and more gratefull then Golde: more acceptable then Iemmes and Iewels, and more profitable then precious thinges or Pearles: more pleasant then all other pleasures: and his departure then death more bitter: But how could Narbonus write? or how could hee send? what excuse could he frame? or what deuice was hee able to put in practise? but suspected, or doubted: but dreaded, or mistrusted: but knowen by some meanes, or made apparant by others: And had hee sent? should I haue come? or should I haue lost my learninge? should I haue burnt my Bookes, or forsaken my know­ledge? should I forgone my freendes, and left my Father? And why would not hee haue consented, or happely haue graunted my request: I might haue gained his grace, or wonne his willing will, I might haue found such fauou­rable fréendship, and haue gained my desired wish, to haue had his company, & inioyed his presence, to laude his com­fortable wordes, and giuen eare to his sweete sayinges, more swéet then Suger, and more holesome then Honny: more satiable then the tollerable tongue of Tullie, & more acceptable then the vauntinge verses of Virgill: And did not hee doubt of the consent of my Father, and was feare­full of his agreement: for that olde men are froward, and wayward: testy, and doting: who thinke the absence of their children, for a time will bréede their euerlastinge farewell: and which most delighteth vs, seemes most vn­sauery to them: But how couldst thou brooke the Seas, that neuer tasted the sowces of the waltringe waues? or how couldst thou indure the waters, that neuer was ac­quainted [Page 134] with the tossinges of those sorowfull Surges: thy body may bee so contrary to away with the nature of the Seas, and thy sences so impatient with the qualities of the Waues, as thy life may bee in daunger, and thy death pronounced: If so thy life be lost, or thy soule sinke into the Sandes, who will there bewaile thee? or what freendes will make moane? what company will follow thy Hearce, or who will sing thy Dirges? who wil beare thy Coffin, or who will dig thy Graue? who wil intombe thee, or who will wrap thee in Leade? who will write Uerses in the praise of thy person, or will erect a Monu­ment in honour of thy fidelitie? Alas, the colde waters must be thy Graue, and the Mermaydes must wayle and lament: in stead of thy stately Tomb, where thou shouldst lye whole and sound, the fléeting Fishes, will now teare and mangle thee: where thou shouldst haue béene imbaul­med with swéet perfumes, the flowinge floods must wash and make thee cleane: I pray Narbonus that thy boone be not so bad, and wish thy hap bee not so yll: and if thou haue escaped the rigour of the Rockes, and auoyd the bea­tinge of the Billowes: is not thy daunger afterwardes great, and thy penaunce then as much pronounce? Yes, for the Spaniard is proude, so is he stately: he is haugh­ty, so is hee arragant, hating thy health, and loathing thy liberty: not crauing thy company, and flying thy fréend­ship: flatteringe thy welfare, and laughinge at thy losse: contemninge thy courtesie, and péeuishly requitinge thy painfull pilgrimage: At euery wry looke, mooued against thée, & for euery crosse conceit, séeking to displeasure thee: maintaining malice, or procuring some mischiefe: cockred in carnall conceyts, & dandled in daungerous delightes: al­waies repining at thy pleasure, and euer more vitupera­ting thy welfare: If thou talke with him, hée is as testy & froward as may bee: if thou vse any conference, so contra­ry and crosse as thou wouldst not imagine: if thou walke with him in the stréetes, or also in the Church, thou must turne as hée turneth, otherwise, hee will imagine thou [Page 135] disdaynest him, and so shalt purchace his displeasure: thou must talke to answere him directly, though he speak neuer so contrary: thou to please his patience, he to mooue thy humour: thou to make him merry, hee to make thee weepe: thou to fauour his fancy, hee to offende thee fro­wardly: if thou séeme contented, vnles to gayne his gratu­lation, hee is then offended, thinkinge thou vsest some pretence to displease his person: If in familiar talke thou vnwittingly wrest out some waywarde worde, or vnwil­lingly speake which thou wouldst not, hee will straight chalenge the combat, and soone offer thee to fight: which excepte thou seeme as willinge to perfourme, as hee is ready to offer, thou art no Cocke of the Game, therefore thy combe shall be cutte: But if happely thou thus escape and agrée well with them, what afterward will become of thee, or how canst thou digest this coare, when thou shalt bee forced to march all the day in thy heauy armour, and at night to looke thy lodginge amongst the Dogges [...] There the longe grasse, if fortune fauour thee so wel, may bee thy softe feather bed, or some straw, if thou canst get any, thy quiet Couche: thy Boulster, some turfe of the ground, and thy sheetes not very faire, for that they are alwayes at thy backe: thy coueringe colde, excepte thy bargayne bee the better, thy Chamber not stately, but a house for a Swine: marchinge thou shalt bee hindred with Hayle, and sowced with Snowe: bitten with the Froste, and nipped with blastes: frozen in the flawes, and troubled with winde and weather: When thou shalt turne thy face vp to Heauen, or looke a little vpwarde, all these droppinge on thee, and all these runninge downe thy skirtes: how happye then was thy home? and how blessed thy Unckles House? Alas, will the remembraunce of these thoughts reuiue thee? nay, will they not terrifie thee? then shalte thou bee thrust out into euery skirmish, & euermore be the first that shal goe forth: at euery false Alarum disquieted of thy rest, and at euery [Page 136] péece discharged in the night, thou must run to y ^e Trench, there must thou watch at thy Warde, and stand thy sen­tinell: bee one in the still watch, or walke thy Round: Then shalt thou be the first that shall fight, because thou art a raw Souldiour, and the foremost that shall enter at the Breach, because thou shalt be made expert: And if by good happe thou escape all these daungers, and bee hurte with none of these harmes: that litle money spente that thou cariedst with thee, and thy purse pennylesse, then shalt thou be ready to sterue with hunger, and like to faint with thirst: and steale there thou maist not, for Martiall Law is straightly executed: and begge thou canst not, for none will reléeue thee: for euery trifle thou shalte gayne the yll will of thy Captayne, and for euery small offence thy life shall bee in daunger, when perhaps thou shalte bee better borne then him selfe, and thy courage not infe­riour to his: Going into the Féeld, some dastardly dotard or cowherdly sotte, shall get that by chaunce, and gaine by good hap, which thou with great daunger of thy life, and duetifull seruice shall neuer obtaine, nor at any time bee in likelyhood: For, is not this saying sooth, & the Prouerb too true: The more foole, the better fortune? For did not that carpet Knight, kill by chaunce that noble Achilles? whose force to haue frowned on him, the other beeinge presente, or whose lookes to haue lowred, he being néere him, would feare the other to frame one frowarde face, or caused him to vsed one contrarie countenance: the one las­shed with his launce, the other laid on load with his Lute: the one a notable Captaine, the other a Courtly Carpeter: y ^e one a litle practised by pollicy, the other tried by strēgth: yet his hap was to giue the gleeke, & the others chaunce to bide the bitter bargaine: So may fortune frowne on thee, nay, so will it not defie thee: Did not the carterly Ptholomy, slay cowardly y ^• noble Pompey? who a nobler Captaine thē the one, who a viler Prince then the other? Was not Caesar the onely man of his time, and stabbed in by his trayterous Senatous? who then hee a more noble [Page 137] Prince? who then they more Traytourlike Rebels? Yet in scaping all these scourings, and biding all these bitter broyles, in flinginge out too farre thou hap to be taken, and in ventring some thing too muche, thou come shorte home, who will raunsome thée? or who will acquite thee? who wil set thée frée? or who wil fetch thée backe? Answer will be made, he was foolishhardie, and vnaduised, vnru­led, and disdeyning to be refourmed, let him therefore ei­ther raunsome himselfe, or trie out his fortune. What shall I say? or what shall I do? how shall I find thée out? or how shall I fetch thée home? where shall I séeke thée? or in what part of the Countrey shall I looke for thée? I dread the woorst, and I feare thy fal, I doubt thy danger, and I dread thy death: how can I hope thy health, when there is no likelyhode of thy returne? the time is not now to trie I feare me, nor the place to be appointed: thy life is alreadie alotted, and thy death determined: but honou­rably I wish thée come to thy graue, and that thy death may be lamented of others: But some will replie, the death of the fielde is honourable, and farre better then to be buried at home in a mans graue. The death I confesse is honourable, and the déedes commēdable: but God giue thée that honour to die at home, and to be buried in Vienna amongst thy friends: at thy tumbling into the hole, or the raking vp of thy bones, thou mayest happe to get a volue of shot, or a peale of Gunnes, which any Souldiour hath so much, and the greatest Captaine hath no more.

Tumbling himselfe amidst these doubtfull desires, and tossing amongst these dreadful dangers, he le [...]t his slouth­full bedde, and rose out of his sincke of securitie, thinking to abandon these curious cogitations, by walking in the Féeldes, & to driue these fonde fancies into the open aire: which purpose tooke so good effecte, as he put it straight in practise: where no sooner entred, but his auntient remē ­brance, and forepassed fancies of his faithfull friend and banished exile assailed him as before, and troubled him as at the first: for the floured feeldes were rather a helpe to [Page 138] renew his Rebellious, than to put into obliuion his con­trarie conceytes: for let any man afflicted come into any Pallace of pleasure, or fine fieldes, furnished with fra­grant floures, if pleasantly disposed, they augment his felicitie, if pensiuely perplexed, they encrease his so­rowes: he therefore that earst was pensiue, can not there boast of his brauerie, and he that before was afflicted, can not there be reléeued: But now he deuiseth what meanes he may worke to go to him, and how to temper with his Father to get his consente: now he hopeth, then he doubteth: now he flattereth himselfe that his Father can not denie him so reasonable a request, then he feareth that he will deuine vpon some dreadfull daun­gers, the troublesome trauell, in that the Countrey ly­eth full of Souldioures in euery corner, and their rob­bing and spoyling of him: who to packe their pouch full of redde Ruddockes, or for the gayne of little gold, regard not the murthering of a man, and the selling of their Soule to the Diuell, who is their good Mayster, and so let him be, let them serue him so long as they list, and the best they can, in the ende they come home by weeping Crosse, and crie Peccaui: now he doubted this, and then dreaded some other thing: now deuised, and then vndid it again [...]: now counsailed, and then sette it at sale: now bidde the bargaine, and then drew his head out of the coller: firste fayned, then framed: first agréed, then de­créede: first propounded, then renounced: then he thought to bidde the bargaine, was but the parte of a choyce Champion, and to giue the assaulte, but the duetie of a good Souldyours, and he rather to aske, than the other to demaunde: his nay at the firste was no deniall, nor his gaynesaying to stand as a bonde of aduantage: the worst that could happe was but nay, and the greatest deniall might in time be graunted: Then he thought to frame some excuse, and vnder some pretence to vnder­take that voyage: then hee remembred agayne that playne dealing was a iewell, and the trueth woulde bée [Page 139] tried out in the ende: Then agayne this troubled him, the vncertaintie of his finding, and the not knowing in what place he was: if he should be gone from the Camp, or be thrust into garrison into some Towne, his Cap­tayne he was not acquaynted withall, neyther dyd hée know any that wente in his companie: then thought he, that to make suche spéedie poasting woulde grow to some suspition, maruelling what his pretenced hast shoulde meane, comming so lately home, and but then refreshed of his forepassed trauell: then hée thought to stay some time, and to watche a season, for the reque­sting of his suite, this was the greatest certaintie, and tooke surest effect.

Who then had séene him in this perplexitie, and so rauished in his desires, flattering still his fancie that he shoulde obtaine his desires, and perswading himselfe he could not be denied, his wittes ranne he knew not whi­ther, and his senses were seduced into sundry places: his thoughtes were now in Naples, and then in Witten­berge: now in Vienna, and then in Roome: now in Ger­manie, and then in Spayne.

Thus was Phemocles neuer contented, but alwayes troubled, till he had pouredfoorth the effect of his froward fancie, & vnfolded the inwarde cogitations of his doubled thoughts, thinking then hée should be sufficiently satis­fied, that once obtayned which hee desired. Octauian af­ter the departure of Anthonie, and his secrete flying, was so incensed with outrage, and enflamed with furie, as he coulde not abide to heare him named, or any man to speake of hym, but submission made, and pardon craued of his owne person, when the boy­sterous blastes were ouerblowen, and rigorous out­rage put into obliuion, hee gayned agayne that quiet caulme whiche contented him, obtayned his par­don, and gayned his fauoure, whiche grewe greate­lye to the aduantage of the common wealth. Was not Peeter more faithfull after he receyued pardon for [Page 140] his offence, and Paule must finde fault, after he lefte per­secuting.

Phemocles now imagined to get that by entreating, whiche he coulde not gayne without asking, and to ob­tayne that by fauoure, whiche he shoulde neuer winne without friendship, watching therfore a time so conueni­ent, as he thought none could be more beneficiall, and e­spying such place, as he imagined he should not be gaine­sayed, he plucked vp his spirits, and spake thus to his Father.

Sir, the idle spending of time, and the wearing of a mans yong yeares without any profite, is no meanes ey­ther to get credite, or gaine riches: to obtaine wisedome, or to learne knowledge: to find out experience, or to pro­cure liuing: there is nothing found but yéeldeth some pro­fite, nor anye thing gotten without some paynes. How grow the graftes? or how spring the plantes? how sproute the buddes? or how encrease the flouds? how commes the corne, not without tilling? how commes the fruite, not without planting? nor profite without payne? and that paine peeuishly employed, if it yéelde not some commodi­tie. Doth not the hired seruant worke before he be re­warded? and the Souldioure some seruice before he re­ceyue pay? Can the traueller atteyne his desires before he passe the Seas? or the Merchant haue his Shippe come home before he make his mart? no trust me: for then hée returneth voyde of his pretence, and commeth home as muche the better, as when he wente forthe. Must not the Scholler procéede by degrées? and the craftes man be a Prentise before he be a Maister? can the Pilot passe the Seas before he haue learned his compasse? and the Astro­nomer giue iudgemente of the Starres before he knowe the Earth? must not the Shomaker make a latchet before he fashion a boote? and the Paynter vse his pen before he practise with his pensell? could I atteyned my toung if I had stayed at home? and how should he be learned that ne­ [...]er loketh on Bookes? the minoritie of small things must [Page 141] first be learned, then the substance of greater matters the easier to be atteyned. The Gretians sacked Troy, but not without greate toyle: and the Romanes woon Hierusalem, but not withoute greate trauell. Caesar gayned the Em­pire, but not without long labour: and the Turkes woon the Rhodes, but not without great slaughter. Tully gay­ned eloquence, but not without great study: and Orpheus gote his wife out of Hell, but not withoute passing toyle. Of somewhat commeth something, but of ydlenesse no­thing ensueth. Doth not the Astronomer stare long on the Starres, before hee make his Prognostication: and the Lawyer pleades not at the Barre, before hee know his cases: can the Musition attaine the ground of musicke by one Instrument? and could Pithagoras attaine his wis­dome in one day? but once gained, what profit doth import? and once attained, what credite insueth? Thus paine will yéelde profite, and tedious trauaile bringe greedy gayne: to linger at home, and to loyter in the Towne: To kéepe as well yll disposed company, as those which are honest and good, I know is an offence to God, and some grudge to my conscience: the way to growe into discredite, and the meanes to moone m [...]e to naughtinesse: Wherfore were wee made, or wherfore begotten? wherfore created after the Images of God? or wherefore did hée breath life into vs? to stand like Ciphers, or to bee deuouring [...] Catterpillers? no, euery one after his degree, and each ac­cordinge to his callinge: If it shall please you therfore to thinke good of it, and that it bee not disagréeable to your minde, to graunt this my small request, and not to gain­say that which I shall craue: for as you haue found mee alwayes obedient to perfourme what euer you should commaund: so wish I not longer to liue, then duetifully to obey your pleasure: which is, that I may finde so much fauour in your sight, and obtaine so much goodnes at your handes, to maintayne a voyage into Spayne, to see that noble Countrey: troublesome I know it will seeme vnto you, and a thing altogeather vnexpected: but for my time [Page 142] of absence, and the while I shall bee away, graunt how longe it please▪ or how litle shall like you best, if it bee but one quarter of a yeare, or lesse, if sooner I may make my returne: for my charges, my bare dyet shall excuse mee: and for expences, Horse hire will bee the greatest: and my iourney I hope will not bée so chargeable, but my returne will be as profitable: lyuinge thus, I consume my yeares, and profite not my witte: which well imployed, would profite my selfe, and further some other: Is not the Bée [...]yued for her Honny, & the Shéepe sheared for her fléece? is not the Foule plucked for her feathers, & the Oxe his necke wrought for his Maisters profite? Is not the Trée grafted to yeelde fruite, and the ground laboured to bring foorth Corne? Wherfore was I begotten? or to what ende had you such care ouer mée in my infancy? wherfore was I fostered, and wherfore nourished to this age? to be a Droane amongst the Bees, and a Catterpiller amongst the Fruite, deuouring the profite of others, and seruinge to no vse my selfe: But happely, you will demaund the cause of my hastie voyage, and the occasion of my sodaine departure, which though it séeme hastie to you, yet it hath beene long sithens put in practise by mee: you know bet­ter then I can manifest vnto you, and saw more by expe­rience, then I haue by hearesay: The late Armie leuied by our Noble Emperour, and the Royall company that yssued foorth of our Towne: the number of Horsemen, glisteringe in their bright Armour, and the braue compa­ny of Footemen, with their Pikes and Shotte: the cou­ragious Captaynes in their callinges, and the lustye Sergeauntes in their Offices: All which, as it wil yéelde no great discommodity to you, so must it of necessitie bee very profitable for mee: then may I boast, I haue seene an Army Royall: then may I vaunt of that noble Coun­trey of Spayne: I would not you should thinke my mea­ninge is to serue, or to take pay as a Souldiour: for that my cunning is small, and my experience lesse: onely my desire is to gayne the full sight of that huge Army, and to [Page 143] see their noble orders, and Ordinaunces: As for my time of absence, and the space to bee away: I referre it to your discretion, and shal contentedly bee ruled by your will.

His Father who suspected that pretence lea [...] of any in the worlde, and neuer imagined any suche demaund would bée required: knew not how to answere at t [...]e [...], nor how to deny so reasonable a request: yet both fearful of his daunger, and carefull of his health: doubtinge [...] well the daunger of the fominge flouds, as mistrustinge the health of his Sonne, who was neuer on the Sea bee­fore, nor at any time in little daunger of drowning: then feared hee the nature of the Countrey would not agree with him: and then doubted hee the disposition of the people, which was altogeather vnlike theirs: yet in the ende imagininge that hee would haue sufficient regard of his owne safety, and looke diligently to the health of him selfe, hee therfore put away all doubtes, and shaped him this answere.

MY beloued Phemocles, what the harte thinketh, the mouth vttereth: and what the minde inwardly con­ceyueth, is knowen partly by the outwarde cogitations: there is no commodity, but hath his discommodity: an [...] no profite, but hath some disprofite: thou art not borne to eate alwayes thy bread in one place, nor bred to drinke al­wayes of one Well: The cloth hath his list, and the Trée not without some blast: the Nutte his shell, and the swéet Bée, her stinginge tayle: as the one cannot bee made without the other, so must the best bee a helper to the worser. I thy Father, neuer trauayled out of my Countrey: thou my Sonne hast trauayled, and de­sirest more: I a great Marchaunte, thou ignoraunte of the Marte: thou desirest that I neuer wished, and crauest that, which were it in my case, should neuer bee desired: Aristippus saith wee are borne for plea­sure, but Cato saith wee are begotten for the vtilitie of our Countrey: wee are borne in deede for the pleasure [Page 144] of GOD, and created to doe the will of oure heauenlye Father.

Anaxagoras sayeth, wee are borne to looke vp to Hea­uen, and Naso willeth vs to pleasure all men: And as the aforesayde Anaxagoras sayeth in that respecte wee are Angell like, and do resemble the doings of our ma­ [...]r, in that all other Creatures do looke downewarde, and haue no regarde to beholde the Heauens: and man is the onely thinge in this worlde, that other beastes doo feare, and they tremble to beholde his countenaunce: but let that passe, and come to the purpose: Thou desirest the life of a Trauailer, and imployest thy minde that waye, which to thy profite to make denyall, and to thy vtilitie not to perfourme, were but the parte of an vncourte­ous Father, and the déedes of an yll disposed parente. There is no reason I shoulde disdayne thy doings being good, and no cause why I shoulde blame thy bargaines béeing honest. One desireth the life of a Souldyoure, another requireth the lyfe of a Merchante: One sée­keth the life and libertie of a frée man, another regar­deth to liue in forraigne Countreys: one delighteth to trauell by Sea, another more reioyceth to iourney by Land.

Fabritius greatest ioy was by pouertie, and that onely life he desired: for, he that had nothing, was certayne not to léese any thing.

Rutilius reioyced of his exile, and Cato was not sorow­full of his death.

Socrates thought his greatest felicitie to be by poyson, and that noble Captayne, who to saue Rome, disdeyned not to ride into the gaping gulfe.

Thy desire is to mainteyne a Uoyage into Spayne, and to haue the full sighte of that noble Armye, and thy purpose shall take effecte, and thou not deceyued of that thou desirest: but I feare me thou wilte hardly away with the nature of the Soyle, and I am doubte­full that the Countrey lyeth full of Souldyoures: yet [Page 145] vpon this condition that thy returne be so spéedie as thou sayest, and so thou promise me to come agayne in that time thou hast sette downe. I am cont [...]nt to graunte thy request, and willinglye consente to what thou desi­rest. But whilest thou arte there, be carefull of thy dyet, and haue a regard whome thou choosest thy companyon, for in that thou knowest not whome to trust héere, thou mayest perforce be deceyued in a strange place: For the fatherlie affection I haue ouer thée, dothe wishe thée so well as my selfe: and without thy health, what happi­nesse can I haue? Therefore I charge thée héere, vpon payne of my displeasure, and commaunde thée as thou wilte purchasse my blessing, that thou be carefull of thy owne safetie, and make so spéedie returne, as thy selfe hast promised.

His father immediately furnishing him with euerie thing apperteyning to suche a voyage, and willing him to be mindfull of his promises, committed him to the go­uernemente of the highest, and betooke him to the fauour of the Flouds, there to trie his Fortune amidst the fo­ming froath, and to march in the middle of the saltishe Seas, where we must leaue him to them vpō his chance, and betake him to his close cabbin in the steade of his choyse Chamber.

I Haue thus finished the first parte of NARBONVS, and gyuen PHE­MOCLES, for a tyme, his farewell: you shall shortlye heare what newes in [Page 146] Spayne, and of the successe of the Emperoures Ar­mie: where he that before neuer walked in the warres, is now wedded to some woe: and he that earst was neuer ouer the shoes in fortunes despight, is now o­uer the bootes in enuies disdeyne. I commende him to the Spanyardes courtesie, whome I doubt will entreate him not cu­riouslie, yet careles­lye.

The seconde part.

NArbonus hauing escaped the daūger of the Flouds, & arriued very well on shoare, where hée was growen to be [...] such a Souldiour, as hée could shifte with the best, and dissemble with the most: It happened that when hee had beene in the Campe, by the space of thrée Monethes, or much about that time, his Captayne, with certayne others, went to doo a péece of seruice against the ennemy, and an exployt which happened not so well for Narbonus as it might haue doone, where they had such happy suc­cesse, and fortune séemed so to fauour them, as they retur­ned with Triumphe, and brought away the goale with them: Retiringe homeward, all the Captaynes wente through a little Towne to make merry, and the Souldi­ours marched on the backeside of the Towne, neuer stay­ing till they came at the Campe: Narbonus with certayn others, wente with their Captaynes, and accompanied thē through y ^e Towne: The cariages went also through the Towne, for that it was somewhat the nearest waye: béeing in the Towne a certaine space, some fell to drinke­inge, & some to quarrelling: from quarrelling, to blowes: and from blowes, to bloodshed: for with their quarrelling and the coyle they kept, they set all the Towne in an vp­roare, & all were togeather by the eares: now the Wine was in the head, and the wit was out of the braine: This broyle continued so longe, till some were hurte, and some were wounded: some loste their apparrell out of the ca­riages, and some lost all they had: some went home with one legge, and some lefte their liues for a Monument: Narbonus amidst this thronge, and in as great daunger as the most, had discharged his Péece, laden with two Bul­lettes, full in the brest of one his owne companions, had [Page 2] not an other that saw his meaning, bobbed vp the nose of his Gunne: This drunken fray was in the ende pacified, and the matter taken vp amongst themselues, but the ca­riages were so rifled, and the Wagons so spoyled, as hee that escaped best, lost something, and Narbonus lost iust all that hée had, and had not so much left, as a shirte to chaung him, or any apparrell more then hee woare on his backe to shift him: As for his purse, that was light, & his money was al gone long before: now therfore began his misery, and then began hee to misse his owne Countrey: beefore hée lacked a litle, but now hée began greatly to lament his mishap: finding a conuenient place, and time where none should espie him, hee powred forth his plaintes, and vtte­red these wordes folowing.

Alas Narbonus, what a Metamorphists art thou made▪ and how can thy tongue expresse the inward greefe of thy hart? Can thy tongue vnfolde the miseries thou art fallen into? or thy hart imagine the tormentes thou sustainest? the one were an endles toyle, and the other without the compasse of my capassitie: First the death of thy Father, and the losse of so good a freend: the memory wherof hath taken so déepe roote in my hart, as I shall neuer put it out of my stomacke, whose fatherly affections, and whose entire loue were so great as any coul [...] wish, and as much as any one could imagine: whose carefull cogitations were alwayes on my well dooinge, and whose minde was often mooued with my lyfe to come: How great had been thy happinesse, hadst thou accompanied him to the graue? and how fauourable had béene thy fortune, hadst thou de­parted when hee dyed? Were he now here to wayle my want, and to beare a parte in this my perplexed passion, whose Ghost to awaite on, would my soule were set to watch on: as I vnfortunate wretch am ouerwearied with watching, though nolente: and as my soule is like to be drowned in dispaire with y ^e memory of forepassed things, though against my will: Can the tender trée, the earth taken from the roote, grow gréene any longer? and can [Page 3] Narbonus, y ^e sustainer of his life detained, liue any longer? Can the fléeting fishe, liue out of the wallowing water? & can the flickering foule flye, without his winges to beate the weather? Can Narbonus liue, not hauinge bread to sustayne his hunger? and can I prosper, not hauing any foode to feede on? no, no: I must pine in penury, & weare away my dayes in misery: leaue my life in my lustinesse, and die in the best time of my sprouting beautie: O had I stayed still at Wittenberge, yet how can I wish my soule more harme, the originall of my sorowes, and the prime of my penalty: the beginninge of my bitternes, & the first of my friuolous fortune: My Unckle (forsooth) would vn­neathes procure mee thyther vnder pretence of my profit, where I spent all that was lefte mée, and consumed away my liuinge: there began my want, and here will end my misery: there Fortune began to frowne, and here shee will spit her spite: This was the affection of my Unckle, and this the proud pleasure of his mightie minde. Had I stayed still in the Countrey, and had I not come to Wit­tenberge, my goods had béene encreased, and my lyuinge augmented: where now my patrimony is spente, and I like here to pine: But doost thou vniustly condemne thy deare Unckle, and vnaduisedly blame thy faithfull fréend, whose health dependeth vpon thy hap, and whose goods consist vpon thy well dooinge? O were these my miseries manifested vnto him, or he acquainted with the greatnes of my distres, some meanes would be wrought to sustayn my want, & some subtil shift deuised to helpe my calamity: Hee tolde me my chéere would be cold, & my lodging would séeme hard: my dainties not many, but my daūgers plen­ty, which I haue proued by experiēce, though he spake but by heresay. Had my God béen so contented, my life might haue lasted no longer, nor I sustained more misery, but y ^e other day bin slaine with my companions, & left my life, wher they got their deaths: But I was preserued to a far­ther incōueniēce, & my life prolōged to a greter mischéefe: y ^e spaniel is far happier thē I, & the barking dog in better [Page 4] case then my selfe, for they are rewarded for their braw­linge, but I like to sterue for my good seruice.

O how happy are these creatures, whose bellies are alwayes filled with grasse, and whose paunches haue euer that suffiseth their hunger▪ who feede them selues fatte, and then are slayne, but I am likely to dye beeinge but carion, and to pay my raunsom béeing no faire flesh: My Unckles seruauntes thinke much to take a little toyle to feede on what they list, and thinke they are wronged in labouring for their vittailes, where the worst morsel they haue would preserue my life, and the least péece of bread prolonge my dayes: can death it selfe bée worse then this? nay, how can it bee so bad? if death were layd in my dish, my woes would quickly ende: and were my destinies now ended, my miseries would grow no farther. O had God giuen man that secrecy, to ende his daies when hee would, or had hee graunted him that liberty, to cut a sun­der the thread of his life when it pleased him: should my life then be prolonged one houre, and my dayes not ended at this instant?

But Fidelia, in what place resteth thy sweet soule? and where now is thy delicate body? Thou once sawest mee dying, but now shalt shortly heare that I am dead: would now thou wert here to hasten my death, and to giue mee that ende which is my due: to dispatche my bloominge breath, and to holde my heauy head: to wipe these teares from off my moyst eyes, and to close them vp after my Ghoste is once gone: O Fidelia, had my hap beene so good, I might haue séene thee againe, and challenged thee for my owne: or had fortune béene so fauourable, I might haue inioyed thy company, y ^e happiest in the world: Had my harte foreseene this, and my minde imagined these [...]aungers, I would haue barked like the Dogge in his kennell, and lurked like the Foxe in his hole: I would haue lyen close like the Lyon in his denne, and beene hidden like the Bee in the Honny combe: But my carck­inge was on my credite, and my boasting on my brauery. [Page 5] O Fidelia, could I haue had but one farewell before my de­parture, and one kisse to haue caried to my graue: thou the most faithfull, I the vnfaithfullest: thou the most freendly, I the vnfreendlyest: thou the most louing, I the most vnloyall: could not I recouered the Countrey, so might I had thy companie? could not I that way gayned thy good graces, and found thy fréendly fauoure? where now banished thy presence, and bereaued of thy sight? I once embraced thy body, and once kissed thy swéete face, and once should haue gotten the heauenlyest thing in this world, and once woonne thée for my wedded wife: But see­ing my simple seruice could not be séene in this my linge­ring life, my death shal make it manifest to all the world, and my soule in despight of fortune shall awayte on thy blessed body. I die to thinke that some vnworthie shall possesse thée, and feare that one which not deserueth so pretious a iewell shall weare thée: knew I by what meanes to present thée my heart, the most loyall in this Kingdome of Spayne, no other shoulde haue the bestowing of it, but thy sweete selfe, nor any other buy it but thy heauenly hands. The Théefe hath his deserued hire, and the Traytour for his treacherie punished with payne & would God I were the one, or could not escape the other. But why do I hold my hands from so dying? and stay my knife from executing my selfe? were it not offensiue to God, and contrarie his commaundes, my heart shoulde quickly consent, and my hand soone strike the stroke. Of all the Creatures that God hath made, and all the fea­tures he hath formed, Man is eyther most vnfortunate, or in greatest vnhappinesse. All other creatures regarde nought but their foode to fill their paunches, and care for nothing but meate to serue their turnes, and they all haue sufficient, and neuer any of them that perish with hunger: but we want, and we wayle, we wéepe, and wée lament, we crie, and we craue. The firste signe of our life after our procreation, is bitter teares, and the formost motion of our liuing soules, is wéeping: a sure signe of [Page 6] our miserie to come, & a token, that our life shall continue with lamēting: my money is spent long since, & my appa­rel al lost: freends héere are none that wil releeue me, and who wil succour me in this deepe distres? but if my backe hee colde, is not my bellie also bare? yes, I sée nought but death before my face, and my lingering life beginneth to wast: and this death is most miserable, & in this kinde of dying I shal seeme the most vile creature that euer liued, and to sterue thus with hūger, the most loathsome of any that héertofore hath breathed: but in so dying, do there not a great nūber leade the daunce before thée? and in beeing so miserable, are there not many that pine in like per­plexitie? if I steale any thing to sustein my pining paūch▪ or filch ought to gorge my gréedy gut, death thē is my due, & no cōpassion shal be shewed me. O my beloued Phemo­cles, that I were now at thy courtesie, and that my plaints were poured forth before thée, that thou didst behold these watrie eyes, & that thou didst looke vpon these blubbred chéekes: that thou didst sée this throbbing hearte so mise­rably afflicted, & that thou didst behold my soule so drow­ned in despaire: but to be hold héere my deformed face, & to sée thus these eyes suncke into my head, thou wouldest beare a part I am assured of these my inwarde miseries: and were ther any heere to poure foorth some teares with me, or to bewaile my want so much as my selfe, my heart would quickly yéeld to the furie of death, & my soule giue cōsent to yéeld vp my ghost: And gaineth not death a great iewell, and getteth he not a mightie rewarde to haue me his owne? yes trust me: a loathsome body, and a stincking carcasse, a rotten trée, and a consumed carion. But O good God, are these the fruites of all warres? and are these the liues of all Souldiours? is this the life of all those forced by their Princes? and is this the case of all such as go out of their owne Countrey? the soule Beare findeth some­what to teare on: and the hungrie Tigre getteth some­thing to mainteine hir life: the Wolfe hath some what to pray vpō, and the wilie Foxe doth not perish with hūger. Thou feedest O Lord y ^e yong Rauens with y ^e dew of Hea­uen, [Page 7] & wilt thou suffer vs to go into Hell? for wāt of suste­nance we must eyther pay pence for y ^t we take, or render our liues in pawne, giue gold, or gaine our graue. Thou hast giuē to euery fowle of y ^e aire séedes, & to the beastes of y ^e field grasse to feede on: to the fishes the wide sea to fleete in, & to the vile wormes the rotten earth to liue by. These creatures sterue not for lack of foode, nor perish, being pi­ned with hunger. Is man the perfectest creature, and the likenes of thy own image? hast y ^u made him most excellēt, & giuen him the vilest cōdition? the best fauoured, and the worst beloued? the most superial to loke vpō, & yet y ^e most vnfortunate of all others. Other thy creatures stand not one at the mercy of the other, & one is not forced to beg of the other: one cōdēneth not the other, & none of thē giues cōsent to haue the other slaine. The Oxe is cōtent his fel­low shal feede by him, & the Shéepe craueth the cōpany of his cōpanions. The Hart will not féede alone, & the ram­ping Lion neuer hurteth his fellow, yet we suffer oure heéethrē to pine in pouerty, & sée our fellowes to die with hunger. Is the shape of man so goodly, and his condition so vile? his face so amiable, & his nature so filthy? his life so pure, & his déedes so detestable? We haue séene that brute beastes haue fed yong children, nourished their natures, & susteined their liues: if they of nature be so gentle, why should not we be more louing? if their affection to vs be so great, why shuld it not be far greater to our selues? O mi­serable sexe, O vile generatiō, O most vnpure, O most o­dious of al others: Should our doings resemble God? why then do we follow the Diuel? should our works be perfect to our maker, why then are we so vnperfect towards our selues? if perfection worke such imperfectiō: and if the in­ward motions worke such outward miserie: if the secret things in nature manifest so great calamity: why then O God hast thou made vs y ^e way to excéede other creatures, & to excell thē al in these misteries? as y ^e heart, & the mind, the soule & regeneratiō: nature yéelds thē al their genera­tion, & works thē al a beginning, their procreation, & their being: and hath not nature wrought y ^t in them as they al [Page 8] liue, and are all susteyned? they are all nourished, and not one of them perish, for wanting their foode. Is then our gaine greater? or our life larger? our happinesse compa­rable to their felicitie? and our goodnesse like to their pleasure? no Narbonus, thy dayes must be shortned for lacke of sustenance, and thy life dried vp wanting re­liefe. Farewell that noble Countrey of Germanie, and a­due that famous Citie of Vienna: farewell the Uirgins that vow vestalitie, and adue thou my faithfull Fidelia: farewell my déere Unckle with the rest of my fréendes, and adue Phemocles of all the men the only floure. But miser that I am, to lament my losse, doth but encrease my sorow, and to renue my plaintes, but augment my gréefe: bestirre therefore thy selfe, and walke abroade, happilie thou mayest méete with some that will reléeue thy staruing state, and by chaunce find out some fréend to giue thée some foode. But alas, whome shall I aske, or whome shall I call to? whome shall I bewayle my wante vnto, or who will help me out of this miserie? if I go out to séeke some pray, or go about to gaine some bootie, is not the enimie hard at our héeles, and commeth he not close to our Camp? If I be taken I die tenne thousand deaths, and if my life be yéelded into his handes, I were better suffer any torments: perhappes be thrust into their Gal­leys, which is woorse than thousands of deathes, or put to a worse office, whiche I were better yéeld my selfe héere vnto all furies. O infamous agonie, and superexcellente calamitie, would to God my soule would now yéelde the last gasp of this liuing life, and I woulde that at this in­stant the executioner helde the axe ouer my head to cut it off: if it were but one death to be taken prisoner, I would of purpose go to yéeld my selfe, but I know not how ma­ny deathes I shal die, and stil liue, liue? I alas liue dying, and yet not die, whose case is so hard, that in staying héere I die, & in going abroade to refresh my body, I must more thā die: yet in staying héere, my lingering life may weare to some end, & in going foorth, more than death shal be my [Page 9] destinie. In going to séeke reliefe in our owne Camp, and aske there of our owne Souldiours, y ^e greeuous gronings of those afflicted, & the lamētable cōplaynings of these in­fected, pittifully crying, help, help, yet none helpeth, nor any succoureth them: some lye cryinge, and some spraw­linge: some struglinge, and some striuing to dye: would terrifie I thinke the stoutest stomacke liuing, and affray the stongest hart that hath béene knowen, to beholde some pittifully lyinge vpon the ground, and some beating their bellies against the earth: some bouncinge them selues with their fistes, others lyinge with their faces vpward: some tearing their heares, others scratching their faces: some wresting their mouthes to speake, but cannot: some holdinge vp their handes, sayinge, misery, misery: the stenche of some so stronge, and the sauour so horrible, as I often wonder that I am not infected, and many times meruaile that I am not incensed: but hee that doubteth not death, dreadeth not any daunger: To see these pit­tifull sighes, and to heare them calling meate, meate: and others drinke, drinke: and others helpe, helpe: & others I die, I dye: and others kill mee, kill mee: and others stop my breath, stop my breath: and others close my eies: what harte so harde? or what stomacke so stonye? what minde but would bee mooued to pittie? and what soule but would giue some succour, to heare them so pittifully complayne, and so lamentably lament▪ thinking to come neare, to giue them some succour, or imagininge to take holde on them, to helpe them vp: the smell is so terrible, and the sauour so horrible: that had a man the harte of Hercules, or were a man amongst the puddels of Caron, he could not féele a greater stinke, nor helpe them any other way: some sprawling out of their Cabins, and some cree­pinge vpon all foure: some tumbling out on their backes, and others offering to goe, fall downe againe: Others goe réelinge & tottering forward, they know not them selues whether: and others fall sodaynly downe and neuer rise againe. But alas, how shall I succour others, that can­not [Page 10] helpe my selfe? a blinde man may as well giue an eye to another, or the cripple giue him a leg that is sound: Should I say, O mors quam amara: nay, rather O mors quam iucunda: But who staieth the Tide, and hath not his passage? and who tarieth till the houre bee ended, and heareth not the clocke strike? O that I had a Glasse, to beholde the feature of my face, or that my picture were now drawen, and conueyed to my fréendes: would they know mee? or would they saye it is his face? would they say it resembleth the picture of such a one? or would any say it is the counterfayt of Narbonus? would Fidelia say it is the face of my beloued? or would Phemocles say it is the picture of my faythfull fréende? no: they coulde not know mee, nor tell whom it resembleth: But if they did know mee, could they send me reléefe? or if they had seene it, could they succour mée? could they giue mee a playster for my wound, or could they minister Phisicke for my weake body? Yes: if not all faythfull, yet some woulde prooue loyall: if not all true, yet some would bée trustie▪ But yet thou mayest be deceiued of thy imagination, and made frustrate of thy purpose: The longest grasse, gro­weth not on the highest Hill, and the tall Ceder trée bea­reth no good fruite: the fairest face may bee found full of fraude, and in the gréenest grasse lurketh the vilest Ser­pent: thou diddest neuer trie them, how then canst thou trust them? thou diddest neuer prooue them, how art thou then certaine? thou neuer hadst experience, how then canst thou make boast? The Eagle is the fairest bird, yet is shée filthy meate: the faire Faulcon delighteth thee to holde her on thy fiste, yet is shee no dishe of seruice: the Lyon the goodliest of all other Beastes, yet no meate for thy eating: If thou giue iudgement by lookes, thou maiest liue by losse: if thou ioy in faire faces, y ^u maist be mocked in their foule fashiōs if thou reioyce in swéet words, thou maiest mistake them, & then soure sauces are better: doost thou not often sée a rusty Rapier, in a painted shèathe, and a goodly purse filled with counters: vnder braue apparrell [Page 11] often walketh a botched body, & in a braue body may bee a defiled soule: the swéet muske is not pleasaunt to eate, and the Lilly flowre hath no good tast: the Nettle looketh gréen as other herbes, & the thistle beareth a faire blossom: expe­rience teacheth thée, & thy owne reason should cause thee conceiue so much: As faith is flickering, so are fréends [...]ai­ned: if I had the wit of Themistocle [...], & the experience of Phillip, I might bée deceiued in the one, & mistooke in the other: Caine offered fréendly, to talke with his brother Abell, & then slue him: and Iudas kissed Christ, before hee betraied him: Thou louest them dearely, but art not cer­taine they fauour thée hartely: they may speake thée faire, yet flatter falsely: professe y ^e fauouring of thy fortune, yet repine at thy prosperity: y ^t Crocadile whē she hath caught a man, first wéepeth & then deuoureth him: & the Cat first culleth the Mouse before she eate him: the Fly trusteth y ^e blaze of the candell till she is burnt, and the olde dog play­eth so longe with the whelpe till hee bite him: when the Lyon is full gorged the other beastes play before him, but when hee beginneth to roare, they all hide them selues or run out of his sight: Let the simplicitie of small thinges make thy wit grow greater: happy are thy freendes for they liue in prosperity, but vnfortunate is Na [...]bonus who pineth in aduersitie: looking long agaynst the sunne will make a man blinde for a time, and I with lookinge on my beloued was depriued of my fences: my longe lookinge lyked mee to loue, and my louinge hath loste mee my ly­berty: But vnfortunate, doost thou condemne thy fréends, and blame her who lyked thee beste, who prefer [...]ed thee beefore any other, and who lyked thy loue, but regarded not thy lyuinge: who imbraced thy behauiour, and marked not thy rytches: who tooke pleasure in thy wisedome, and wayed not thy wealth: who ho­noured thy health, and cared not for thy coyne: Caste therfore these imaginations from thee, and de [...]e away these doubtes: bee therefore more patiente, and pittie will preserue thee: hee ruled by reason, the larger [Page 12] will bée thy redresse: bee counsailed by instructions, the surer thy safegarde. And seeing thou art entred in these disputations, and mooued the matter thy selfe: thinkest thou much to fall, when mighty Princes haue fled? doost thou mourne in misery, and haue not thy betters pined in penury? may not thy state be stirred, when Kinges seates haue béene mooued? happely the Lord hath thus plagued thee to prooue thée, and thy patient abyding may cause him loue thee: thy sinnes haue bin innumerable? why should not thy punishmentes bee many? thy offences haue béene great, why should not thy plagues be gréeuous? Is not the offender punished by death? why should not I be tormen­ted liuinge? though the Lorde bruse my boanes, hee can make mee hole: and though hee beate mee, yet will hee not slay me: Who better beloued of God then Dauid, who more plagued for his offences? hee a mighty Prince, his offences great, and therfore his punishmentes manye? Was not Nabuchodonezer in his time y ^e greatest Prince of the world, and was euer any so punished for his pride? his minde was beastly towards his God, therfore was he vsed like a Beast: hee a great Kinge, hée a defiled mem­ber: the greater his punishmentes, the more his misery: After the great conquestes of Alexander, and that hee had gayned the third parte of the world, he thought the name of a man not of sufficient callinge, but would (forsooth) be saluted by the name of a God: he was therfore payed his pasport with death, and was it not due for such & vsurping Rebel, that thought not the name of Emperour sufficient, but would bée called the Sonne of Iupiter: That noble Pompey, whose memory is yet fresh in our mindes, and whose noble deedes shal neuer be put in obliuion: his con­quest was great, but his misery was more: and the multi­tude of his calamities were not so much, but the remem­braunce of his cruell death was greater: and noble Pom­pey ▪ had thy good fortune beene coequall thy valiaunt minde, thou hadst stayned thy predicessours, and put out the name of thy progenitours: If these with a thousand [Page 13] moe, the noblest that euer were bred swam but a small time in securitie, why should my hap passe theirs, & my fortune be preferred before their felicitie. The dise are cast, and each one hath his chance: some winne, some lose: some spend, some spare: some haue, some had: all can not be rich, and all shall not be poore: some Kings, some Beg­gers, some of low estate, some Princes of the world: We can not all be happie, neyther all haylesse: and sith my ha [...] is bad, why should I repine? not bycause my case is worse than theirs, but that being badde, I know not how to a­mend it: The Dogge knoweth his clogge, and the Horse is not ignorant of his saddle: the Birde hir cage, and the Beare his Maister: What a secrecie therefore is this in nature? and from whence commeth this motion? that all other Beastes we can reclayme and make ientle, but our owne fancies we can not ru [...]e, neyther bridle our owne affections: this is the weakenes of our imperfection, and the vnstayednes of our desires: Cā we gouerne al things and not rule our owne thoughts? can we bind the braines of all other things, and haue not the power to moderate our owne meditations? O the imbecilitie of our nature, and the weakenesse of our mindes, so vile, and so foolish, so proude in our owne conceytes, and so statelie in our tot­tering estates: as wauering as the wind, and as contrary as the weathercocke: The Cocke croweth when it is day, and the Sparrow chirpeth in the morning: the Larke lif­teth vp hir warbling notes, and all Birdes reioyce in their kind: they take no care, nor are troubled with any thoughts, no cogitations trouble their mindes, nor anye fancies flie before their faces: they loue, and they la [...]ke not, they reioyce, and they sing, they prayse God in their kinds, and are neuer troubled with any losses: they feare no robbing, nor dread any spoyling, they doubt no mur­thering, neyther doe they feare fighting, and I thinke they are neuer in loue, but that only time of procreation. But alas, what auayleth these to the safetie of thy selfe? or in what respect is this a furtherance to thy health? if I [Page 14] die héere, what shall I care to trie the faithfulnesse of my fréends? and if I go not home againe, what will their loue do me good? I thinke one will wish me well, and another will rue my hard hap: one will be sorowfull, and another would be glad to do me good: but whilest y ^e grasse groweth, the Horse sterueth: and whilest the salue is making, the wound festereth: whilest y ^t pardon is suing, the cōdemned is hanged: and whilest they are prouiding for my prospe­ritie, I may perish: Whether shall I go, or to what place shall I direct my steps? the Camp is a place of smal com­fort, except I desire to sée the portrature of death, or ex­cept I meane to dispatch away my life, except I meane to be cut like the plant in the prime of his perfection, and ex­ [...]ept I meane to seeke my ioy by violating some dange­rous diuination.

The Eagle houering in the aire, and soaring in the winde, ceasseth not to get some foode to fill the gaping mouthes of hir young ones, and neuer stayeth till she haue prayed of some thing to ceasse their crying: but who wil feede thée, to cause thée ceasse lamenting? or who will bring thée any thing to make thée ceasse thy playnts? though the soule Rauen suffer hir brattes to liue certain dayes without foode, in the whiche time they are nouri­shed with the dew of heauen, yet once perceiuing them to be hir owne, she prouideth somewhat to make them ceasse crying, & bringeth thē foode to stop their yauling mouths: but who will giue thee a morsell of bread to susteyne thy weake nature? or who will minister a cup of wine to mo­derate thy thirst? The fierce Tigres, whose natures are counted most vile, and whose substance most loathsome, will suffer their young ones to teare their pappes, pou­ring out the milke, and rather suffer themselues to be slaine, then that their young should want, or not be relée­ued: but who will helpe thée with any thing? or giue one little péece of siluer to saue thy life? O that the celestiall powers haue giuen man that nature so excellent, and yet to be so vilely abused: when we are at the best, our case is [Page 15] but bad, must not then the woorst be miserable, are we not borne erying, and dye lamenting? sorowfull that we are come into the world, and then lamenting our so sud­dayne departure? when the beginning is with weeping, must not the ende be with wayling? But why are we so borne weeping, and for what cause so procreated waiting? bycause our estate is so miserable, and we so vile of our selues, our sinnes like to be great, and our offences like to offende God so farre, as it is but néedefull we shoulde al­wayes lament our liues, and necessarie that we should [...]o complaine our estates. But why are we so miserable, and wherefore hath God giuen vs no more perfect procreati­on? Bycause othe [...]ise we should be so proude as Lucifer, and so be throwen downe into Hell, yet were we better féele the heauie hand of God, and pray for repentance, or call to him for grace, who will so speedelie giue it vs, as we do hastely call for it: and to make trial of our natures, hath he not wrought by sundrie meanes, and experienced by sundry men? Was not Iob tormented with botches & biles, and plagued with sores, and scabbes? and though he suffered him to be tried, yet did he not quite reiect him: some tried by the fire, and some persecuted by Princes: some by Shipwracke, and some by emprisonment: some by banishmente, and some by the warres: some by one thing, and some by another: some made a Metamorpho­sis, and some mishapen: some ouglie, and some loathsome: all to trie how patientlye they can beare the crosse of the Lorde, and how manerlye they can march in mise­rie: how they can walke so wéerie a warfare, and how they can take so tedious a trauell. Hath not he made as well some for prayse, as fashioned others for dis­prayse? some for honoure, and some for dishonour? some renowmed, and some poore in person? Hath hee not made as well the Snake, as fashioned the Ecle? as well the Toade, as the Frogge? as well the Dragon, as the Oxe? as well the Lion as the Lamb? and as well the Tigre as the Doue? some honoured, some hated: some [Page 16] loued, some loathed: some embraced, some detested: some we flie from, some we fauoure: some followes vs, some feares vs: the face of man I thinke is the cause, and his fauour, in that it resembleth his celestiall face, whose fea­ture we are not vnlike, that same is it which other crea­tures are afraide of, and that the cause why they flie from the presence of man: they flie, and they are afraide: they tremble, and they trudge: they quake, and they quiuer: yet is not man to be compared to a great number of Beastes in strength, or like to them in stature, for swift­nesse, or for féercenesse. Is not the Lion the strongest of all others to his stature, and yet is he fearefull to encoun­ter with a man? is not the Tigre fiercest, yet dareth not behold the face of a man? the Crocodile béeing pursued, runneth away: the Beare will rather be pursued, than follow: and the Elephant, greatest of all foure footed, yet reclaimed to be as gentle as a Dogge: for did the Horsse know his strength, he woulde neuer weare a saddle, or weare the Bull priuie to his might, he would neuer take the yoke: If man being one of the least in substance, and none of the greatest in perfection, yet beareth the grea­test sway, and ruleth all things, and they tremble not at his sight, in that he is of himselfe to be feared, but bycause God hath wrought that in his face that maketh them fearefull, and God hath hidden from their knowledge his strength & prowesse, and these his creatures neuer striue for superioritie, neither doth the one feare the other: The Foxe goeth not about to slay his fellow, neither will one Lion kill the other: do they striue who is greatest? or who shall go formost to the field? which is most beautiful to be­hold? or who is best beloued? no: the least liueth quietly by the greatest, and the strōgest disdeine not the company of y ^e weakest: Wit the Hart pursue his fellow? or the Wolfe follow his fellow to slay him? the least grow by the grea­test, and the little shrubbes prosper amidst the sturdie Oakes: doth not the Yuie grow about the stoutest Elme? and dothe not the Hazell growe by the greate Béeche? [Page 17] doth not the litle Uiolet sprout beside the tall Ceders? and doth not the Dasie grow in the middle of the Forrest? though the highest reach to Heauen, yet doo the least pros­per so well as they: Will the Eagle goe about to kil his fellow, or the Cormorant to deuoure his kinde? will the Cocatrice infecte his like, and one Toade poyson the o­ther? no: for their natures are contrary the dispositions of man, and their mindes are not mooued with such highe motions: for the nature of man is excellent, and his sub­staunce farre aboue other creatures: but corrupted, it is most vile, and wrested to the worst, is most lothsome: for euery beast retaineth his proper fourme and shape, and doth but after nature and his kinde: which in respect of vs is base, and to our nature detestable. And wherfore is it that Emperours, and Kinges, Princes, and rulers, haue at al times maintained such monstrous warres, and euer­more vsed so the sheading of blood, but to make subiects their inferiours, and to haue the name to bee greatest: to haue their fame spred abroad, and to bee mightiest vpon earth: Had Alexander been contented to haue liued quiet­ly in Macedon, and ruled that only Empire, as his Father did before him, hee might haue continued many yeares, and retayned that alwayes which his heyres might haue kept after him: The greater man, the more his daunger, the more his feare, and the greater his care: The great Oake giueth a great cracke at his fall, where the slender shrubbe maketh no noyse: the highe Turret is in more daunger, then the Shéepheardes Cottage: the ritche man feareth robbinge, more then the poore dreadeth daunger: The ficklenes of the Prince, is greater then the feare of the subiect: who liues so well contented as the poore Fisherman? or who so merrily as the Cobler? who slea­peth more quietly then the hired seruaunt? & who pypeth so pleasantly as the Shéepheard? The fatter the horse is, the fuller of diseases: and the richer a man is, the likelier to bée robbed: the more the mighty heapeth vp, the more vnquietly hee sleapeth: If fortune therfore fauour thee, [Page 18] bee thankeful: and if the world goe well on thy side, praise God for it: temper so thy affections as pride créepe not in­to thy hart, and bridle so thy minde, that thou bee the same man thou wast before, for thou litle knowest how sodaine may bee thy fall, and art ignoraunt how spéedily the Lord will depriue thee of thy pleasures: Thou liuest happely, and thy state is stayed: but doost thou not see another pine in penury, and fall into great misery: good Fortune guides the shippe, and felicitie sittes on the Pumpe: but Enuie may step in for a show, and Disdaine may giue the a soucinge blow: The highest trée is often shaken, but when it falleth the cracke is great: the mighty Prince de­priued of his dignity, his case is lamentable: but the poore man if hee lose all his goods, careth not greatly, for that they were but small: The winde bloweth hardest vpon the sayles of the greatest Shippe, and the little Boat can passe quietly in the narrow Riuer: and goeth not the cocke boate more safely in the quiet calme, then the great Hulke sayleth surely in the maine Sea? Is not the Frog in lesse daunger to bée taken, thē the Samon to be caught? the little Lambe liueth, when the fat Wether goeth to the slaughter: the Hinde feedeth still in the Lawnes, when the fat Bucke is pursued: the smallest thinges, the lesse regarded, and the greater they are, the more is their daunger: the Lyon is pursued, when the Lambe sucketh the teate of hir damme: and the bristled Boare is roused out of his Den, when the sucking Pigge sleapeth quietly: the Bull is bayted, when the Calfe feedeth in the feeldes: and the Hearne is souced at, when the sneaking Snight sitteth by the riuers side: Who therfore would desire to bee ritch, or who couet to bée greater: to bee famous, or to haue a name? to bee called a God vpon earth, when his ende shall bee as miserable as a beaste, as waueringe as the winde, and as totteringe as a Reede: as vncertayne as the helme of the Shippe, and alteringe as the Moone: like the vntimely fruite, falling from the trée before it be riped: & lyke the curnell of a Nutte, eaten with a worme: [Page 19] so vnsauery is the highest estate, and so daungerous the seate of mighty men, if Fortune once gin to frowne, and good hap bee gone out of a mans reache. What a lyfe therfore is this, and how repleat with misery? how vn­satiable, and how voide of all goodnes? when the highest is so slippery, how shall the lowest bee sure? yet I thinke the least is the safest, and the lowest the surest: For who eateth his bread better then the labouring man? and who feedeth with a better stomacke, then hée that hath trauai­led all the day: I haue wrought harde sayth hee this day, therfore now will I eate mainely: then happiest is the leaste, and vnfortunate the greatest: not so neyther: would the greatest temper his affections as hee might, and vse his ritches in so good order as he ought, his estate is most happy, and hee most bound to Fortune: For are the greate Princes of the worlde vnhappy, for that they are mighty? and are they not fortunate, for that they are ritch? no: for because they could not rule with reason, nor moderate their mindes to enioye quyetly, that which they possessed. Hee that climeth highe, greate is his fall, and the aspiringe minde, comes often shorte home: the faire Rose cannot growe, but euery one will bée pluckinge at it: and the goodly Pomgranate can­not hange on the Tree till it bee rype: the fayrest Faulcon is desired of all: and the sweeter the Grape, the moe doo geather of it: the mightier the estate, the more desired, and thee goodlier possessions, the more suters: The newe builte House is sooner bought then the ragged walles, and a fatte and lustye Horse soo­ner caught vp, then a leane and starued Iade: the best are most desired, and the least litle regarded.

But Narbonus, it is nowe time to caste of these cogita­tions, and to leaue deuyninge of matters not touchinge thy estate: thou seest no body speaking to thee, nor any one that maketh thee answere: no man commeth at thee, nor any seeketh to reléeue thee: Therfore bestir thy selfe [Page 20] and get thée abroad: arme thy selfe with patience, and in time thou maist finde reléefe: And ther withall hee went to borow some money of his Captayne, promising to an­swere it when the pay day came, but hee would not lend him a mite, but sent him away as well satisfied as when hee came to him: Thus fortune who erst (as he thought) hunge about his necke, laughed him now to scorne: Who had then seene his visage, and marked the feature of his face, would haue sayde it resembled rather the counter­feyt of one goinge to bee layde in the graue, then the liue­ly hue of him, who so late bare such a port in Vienna.

Roming thus vp and downe the Campe, and going from one place to another, hée met by chaunce with a fréend of his, and one of olde accquaintaunce: the other had a litle siluer in his purse, and better stoared then Narbonus: ther­fore they went both to dinner, and gotte such victuals as their litle money would reach too, where hee fedde like a hungry horse, trauayled in a winters day: Then Narbo­nus bewrayed vnto him his great mishappes, and lamen­ted his ariuall into that miserable Countrey, recounting vnto him the méere misery that hee was like to come too: and declaringe the vngratefulnes of his Captaine, and Countreymen, hee could not so moderate his mind, nor so satisfie his appetite: not so bridle his affections, nor so conceale the inwarde anguishe of his harte: but that hee burst forth into bitter wéepinge, & so pittifully the teares flowed downe his face, as if then hee would haue dyed, and neuer returned out of that place: Thus with daylie lamenting his face was growen so pale, and with conti­nuall wéeping his chéekes looked so wanne, as those which before had long vsed his companie, woulde not then haue knowen him.

The other séeing him so lament, and so pitifully to com­plaine, comforted him so well as hee could, and vsing such perswasions as hée thought best, saying that wéeping was no way to preserue his health, nor lamenting any meanes to make his sorrowes slake: Hée therfore like a freend [Page 21] parted stakes with him, and gaue him halfe the money in his pursse, willing him (so long as he had any) boldly to command it, to the which liberall offer, Narbonus yéelded him thankes for his courtesie, and gratefulnesse for his good will.

Thus they departed, and Narbonus was better con­tented with that little summe, than if before he had got­ten ten times the value: but the quantitie was so small, that the ioy could not last long: for as a Candle consu­meth to nothing, or as the deaw drieth vp with the heate of the Sunne: as the waxe melteth before the fire, or the frost stealeth away so soone as the thaw commeth: so the substance of his pursse diminished by little till all was gone, & then his gréefe grew as great as before: And for that there was so small store of money in the Camp, the victuals decreased, and was very hard to gette: for the Souldioures were so yll payde, and so hardly dealt with­all, whether by the yll demeanours of the Captaines, or that the fault was in the receyuers: but this is most sure, that the poore Souldioures had none, neyther any coulde they get: by reason whereof, they were forced to robbe, and driuen to steale: to spoyle the cariages comming to­wards the Camp, and to take away the money from the [...]ictuallers, which was the cause that the prouision came not, and if there came any, they were forted eyther to sell it vpon credite, or to carrie it home againe: The com­playning, and the running, the lamenting, and the way­ling, was intollerable amongst all sortes, and outragious in euery degrée, as the sights, and the hearings, with the vnsatiable rigour that there was vsed, would haue mo­ued the hard stones, and haue forced the stony rockes to wéepe: Some cried out they would neyther watche nor ward any longer: and some saide, they would go serue the Enimie, and so ende their dayes, rather than stay there to die with famine: some sayde, they would take vp their Ensignes and march homewardes, and some sayd they would goe out and spoyle the Countrey: some de­termined [Page 22] one thing, and some imagined another: As the Captaines feared some inconuenience woulde grow of this mutinie, and doubted some daunger woulde shortly ensue, therefore stopped their mouthes with a little par­cell of their pay, and offered them part till all came. Now if the olde Souldyours were thus afflicted, and the aun­tient Captaines so tormented, Narbonus was also▪ be­straught, and incensed: for héere you shoulde haue met them going to such a Towne, and there running to ano­ther village: héere ransacking such a house, and there robbing such a Castell: héere pulling downe a Cloister, and there breaking into an Abbey: some tooke the Coun­treymen their friendes, and tormented them, to cause thē confesse their money: some with their Snaphaunces and fir [...]l [...]ckes opened the vices, and put their thumbes therein, till the bloud came out at the endes, or till they were so thinne as a paper, and some they hanged by their members, to make them confesse: some they tooke and hanged, till they were almost dead, and some they bound strings about their foreheads, till their eyes were like to come out: This was the miserie, and this the calamiti [...]: this the monstrous outrage they vsed, and this their hard dealing: all for want of that which should susteyne them, and for lacking their pay whiche shoulde haue sufficed them: There came the complaintes to the Coronels, and héere were their doings put vp to the Captaines: some lamented the losse of their goodes, and others the forgoing of their children: some that their Cattell were all stolne away, and others that their houses were rifled and nothing left. The Coronels séeing this, and the Cap­taines perceiuing the vile dealings of the Souldioures, gaue vnto euery one a little péece of money, and so stop­ped their throtes for a time, setting downe such streight lawes, and making suche prestricte decrées, that those which went out of the Camp without licence, shoulde a­bide the bargaine for it, and those that stole, should be re­warded with a halter: and in that the releefe was so smal, [Page 23] and their money so little, many were executed, & a great number put to death: some were shotte through by their Corporals, and some passed the pikes: some were hanged, and some otherwise punished: Which sight so terrified Narbonus, and put him into such feare, as he knewe ney­ther how to do, nor whiche way to besturre himselfe: hee therefore comming to his stately cabbin, thought to re­create himselfe with some sléepe: but alas, he was not in his bedde at Vienna, nor at home in his Uncles house, neither had he suche a fréend as Phemocles to vtter his mind vnto, he therefore complayned to himselfe as follo­weth.

And hast thou indéede solde thy owne Countrey to buy héere a beggers portion? and hast thou forsaken thy loyte­ring life at home to find such infamie in a strange place? And hast thou berest thy selfe of those passing pleasures wherewith of late thy stomacke was full gorged, to enioy héere this pining penurie? And hast thou so refused to die in hir armes, whome aboue all the worlde thou didst ho­nour, to leaue thy life héere amidst these carion carcases, whose smell is intollerable, and whose looke most loth­some? before I came hither, I heard those that thus tal­ked, and had this conference amongst themselues of it, some would to God we might haue Warres, then should we be regarded: O saide others, this peaceable time is verie yll for vs, and not good for any: would others say, if the Emperour mainteined some warres, and that we mighte haue pay, we shoulde be merrie, where now we wante muche: vpon this I imagined with my selfe, and thought in my minde, the warres surely are verye beneficiall, and the life of a Souldioure excellente, o­therwise, they would not so earnestly desire them, nor so willingly wish for them. I imagined there hanged bagges of money vpon euery headge, and in euerye house there was some hidden: but alas, how con­trarie doest thou finde their sayings? and how false [Page 24] their speakings, how tattling their toungs, and how their lippes are larded with lyes: we can not sée when our hap is good, nor be contente when fortune fauoureth vs: O the miserie: and the calamitie, the distresses, and the sharp shoures, the bitter blastes, and the cold couerings, the hungrie bellies, and the dreadfull dangers, these are the paternes of our pining penuries, and the signes of our surest safegards: when the heauenliest happe that we hope for is death, what shall be the least of our felici­ties.

The Apprentise lookes to the discharge of his businesse, and the sale of his wares, eateth when him listeth, and at night sléepeth quietly in his bedde: though the Mariner be sometimes tossed on the wallowing waues, and féele otherwhiles the force of the flouds, yet so soone as he com­meth on shoare, he reioyseth with his wife, and maketh merrie with his familie. The crafts man scorched with the summers blaze, and chippred with the Winter blast, hath money and meate for his laboure, and sléepeth qui­etly in his bedde. But when do we sléepe soundly, or when do we slumber safelie? doth not our sléepe as well nou­rish, as our meate susteyne? but how shall we do that ne­neuer haue the one, and alwayes wante the other. How dangerous are the feates of warres, and how vnsatiable the sauce of this safetie? how loathsome the manner of this diet, and how hard to digest? doth not this grudge my mind, and am I not pricked in my owne conscience to robbe, and to rifle: to steale, and to scratch: to borow, and to brawle: to catche, and to scould: to sweare, and to stare: to lye, and to lurch: to flatter, and to dissemble: to beguile, or to be deceyued: Then to sée them so tormen­ted, and to beholde them so punished, so racked, and so rent: so troden, and so stamped on: to confesse their Coyne, and to bring their bagges to light: to shew the faces of their faire Duccates, and to pull out their pain­ted Portigues: one complayneth, saying, I haue lost that hée sta [...]e, and another, hee hath begged that which [Page 25] I haue borowed: then sayeth another, I will goe raunsacke such a house, and thou shalt haue halfe the spoyle: then another sayth, I had stollen foure fat Oxen, and a knaue so bad as my selfe, hath taken them from mée and deceiued mee of my purpose: One robbeth Peeter, to pay Paule: and the strongest theefe escapeth best: our meate is not daintely dressed, nor we so curious to pinch courtesie, but rather then stay to longe, eate it halfe raw: as for sauce, wee neuer tarry for it, neither do wee want any to chew it for vs: the best is, wee haue fayre Foun­taines to coole our dried throates, and fine Welles to quench our great thirst: and were our meat as plentiful as our water is colde, wee should haue ynough of the one, and to much of the other: Wée thinke not scorne as did the Prodigall Childe, to eate with the Swine, and to de­uoure our meate as they doo: if wée eate not with them, wee fill our paunches where they did feede: wee haue no great choyce of dishes, for hee that hath aboue one, for­faiteth the other to the Prince: and wee haue a law, that any man may not eate aboue once in the day, excepte hee haue meate: when wee lay vs downe on our soft Fether­bourdes, and thinke to take a litle nappe, Maister Lowce [...]ommeth craftely vnder one of our sides, or else commeth stealing at our backes when we are sléepinge: but I mar­uaile beeing a Spaniard borne, that hée will so inuade vs in the night, and of so auntient name, yet come so craftely behinde vs, hée layes on his lunchinge lippes of our flesh, and leaueth not manching before hee haue filled his belly: but though hée bite harde, hee neuer eateth vs: But Narbonus, were this Marte now to make, and this bar­gaine agayne to binde: with my consente thou shouldest neuer hurte Souldiour, excepte thou diddest steale away his dinner: Thou mightest haue stayed in Vienna, and looked to thy Unckles businesse, kepte his accomptes, and dispatched his matters: conferred with his credi­tours, and talked with his Tenauntes: Nay, thou mightest haue vsed the company of thy faithfull freend, [Page 26] and talked with him in the Towne: walked with him in féeldes, and exercised thy selfe in his company: thou plea­sed his fancy, and hée lyked thy honesty: learned lessons on thy Lute, and sought out Songes and Sonets: vsed in­struments to refresh thy wittes, and exercised recreati­tions for the health of thy body: but now thou must forget these thy pleasures past, and recount thy miseries to come.

Thus tumblinge about in his Cabin, first on this side, then on that other, now imagining this thinge, and then an other quite contrary: At last hée perceyued the daw­ning, and saw the light come in vpon him: not long after there came certaine of his acquaintaunce, and some that wished him well, tellinge him they had gotten lycence of his Captayne, and a Pasport of his owne hands, for foure dayes, to rome the Countrey, and to take what boote they could get▪

Narbonus at this gentle offer made no denyall, but starte vp and wente alonge with them: the first day they spent, and got iust nothinge: the second day prooued as be­nificiall as the first: the thirde night they came to a little Castle, where they went in to take vp their lodginge, for that they sawe the place to bée stronge, and likely there should bee some thinge within it: lookinge in euery hole, and ransacking euery corner, they hapt into a pigges stie, or a swines house, where they found sixe younge suckinge Pigges, but the damme was not there, which they ima­gined was taken away not long before, or that same very day: heare they made a great feast, and here was greate cheare prouidinge, but there was not one amongst them that was a cunninge Cooke, or not any that could well dresse this meate, but left almost halfe the haire strickinge on their backes, and rosted them so yll, that Narbonus by the space of thrée Monethes after, felte no other sauour as hee thought but those stinkinge pigges, and all the meate that hee eate as hee thought tasted of them: the day fol­lowinge [Page 27] they returned homewarde, and hasted to the Campe, yet they could not make such haste, but they were benighted, nor goe so fast but that they were beguiled: Therfore espying a faire Castle, and a good place to lodge in, they went into it, and there tooke vp their lodginge: they shut the doores close to them, and makinge a greate fire layed them downe to sleepe: Narbonus was very wel warmed, but lyked not his bed: hee therefore got to the top of a Cupborde standinge hard bye, and there couched himselfe: beeing sound a sléepe, about midnight hee tur­ned to the other side. It happened his Pellet purse was open, yet tyed fast to his Girdle: and when hee had tur­ned him selfe, his Bullettes all dropped out, and fell all scatteringe on the floure: which beeinge bourded, and the place where hee laye farre from the ground, they made suche a noyse, and so great a clatteringe, as if twentie Gunnes had beene discharged one after an other: The company that laye by the fire, beeinge sound on sleepe, starte vp so sodaynely, as if they had beene assayled by the enemy: cryinge out, wée are betrayed, wee are be­trayed.

Narbonus sound a sléepe, and starting vp to take his péece fell downe from the Cupbourde, and made such a noyse with the fall, as if the wall had beene broken downe vpon them, or if one of the Chambers had fallen, and with feare had litle hurte, but was amazed with the fright: but the company ran some one way, & some an other: some tumblinge ouer their fellowes, and some knockinge their shinnes agaynst the postes: some ranne to the doores, and others pulled out their Rapiers: some sought for fire to light their Matches, and some not throughly waked ran they knew not whether: some quaked, & some quiuered: some had forgotten where they had bestowed their furni­ture, and some had lost their Gunnes: In the ende one had lighted a waxe candle, which was found in a Churche the day before.

[Page 28] Narbonus who perceiued the cause of this sodaine vp­roare, and knew the euente of all this matter, fell to per­swading them, and shewing them the occasion of this so­daine noyse, some beleeued him, and others denyed it: then takinge the Candle, and shewinge them the place where hée fell, and the Bullettes not yet taken vp, they beleeued that which was so manifest, and doubted not of the matter when they sawe the truth before their faces: When all was pacified, and euery thinge quiet, they fell in a great laughter to see their owne folly, and iested out the matter merily: for Narbonus was in all the faulte, and hee had taken the greatest hurte: afterwardes they slept soundly till it was day light, and were not troubled with any moe such false alaromes: so soone as it was day, and that the sunne began to shine, they marched towards the Campe, and came home in good time, but their gaines were small, sauing they had filled their hungry paunches: Not long after, Narbonus wente foorth agayne, beeinge requested by some his freendes, who was better conten­ted to goe abroade, then to stay steruinge in the Campe: where they trauailed all the day, but found iust nothinge: When it drewe towardes night, they approched to a Castell not farre from them, which they thought a com­modious place for them to lodge in, and good for their pur­pose: This Castell was Moated, and in the Dikes they found very good Fish: and findinge Nettes in the house, they drew great plentie out of the Moate: beeing busied about the dressing of this fish, and wearied with their tra­uaile beefore: it grew late in the eueninge, and by their imagination about tenne of the clocke: It happened the night beefore, there lodged other in the same place a­bout the number of fortye, and all of their owne Campe, who repaired thither, thinkinge to lodge as beefore: they had lefte a Gate open, and this company came in­to the Court: where perceyuinge great lightes within the house, knew not what to imagine: one perceiued them that was within the house, and shot a peece ouer [Page 29] them, at the discharging whereof, all this company lay close: Comming into the Court, they shutte the gate after them, and left one of their company without, who romed vp and downe he knew not whither: they within the house concluded to put out all the lightes, and to goe out closely at a backe gate.

There left they their Fish hanging ouer the fire, and wente closelie out at a posterne gate, where hard by the house they layde them selues close in ambush, mea­ning to sette vpon them at aduantage when they came foorth.

Lying thus closely that they could not be perceyued, the fellow running vp and downe, came iust amongst them where they lay: which perceyued by one of the com­panie, ranne towards him, saying, Rendera vou viliaco. The fellow amazed, and thinking of no suche matter, yéelded himselfe, thinking he should die no other death: whome after they had long examined, founde him to bée one of their owne Camp, who told them the whole mat­ter, and how those within were of their owne compa­nie: then went they all in, and feasted themselues with the Fish that hung ouer the fire.

The day following, they marched all towardes the Camp, where they founde small-chéere, and woorse lod­ging. Not long after, Narbonus gote a pasport of his Cap­taine, for himselfe, and other companie: the firste day they lost their labour, but for a little rotten fruite that hung vpon the trées, the next day they came into a Uil­lage, where they founde two Calues, which they made readie, and thought to make good chéere withall, but their meate was not halfe rosted, nor their feast begun, when one of their companie espyed by chance a greate number at the Townes ende, which he thought were the Enimies, hée therefore ranne in, and tolde it to his companie, some tooke [...]e spittes with the meate on them, and went a good space before them: the other came something behinde, meaning to fight, if the enimie [Page 30] followed, but they were but a little out of the Towne, when they saw the other hard at their héeles.

Héere beganne a prettie Skirmishe, and the sup­posed enimies were halfe so many agayne as the o­ther: they therefore pursued botelye, and the o­ther mainteyned still their Shotte, marching on a­pace: thus they followed by the space of two miles, till in the ende they recouered a Woodde, which per­ceyued of the others, they retired backe, and this good companye hadde no hurte, but one man shotte into the legge, whiche was without danger: there they ro­sted their meate againe, and there ended their Ban­quet.

The nexte daye repairinge towardes the Campe, they passed through a Woodde, and as they wente a long, they perceyued some companye: then one dis­charged a Péece, to knowe whether they were the Enimies, or not: then repairinge the one companye néere the other, there beganne a hote Skirmishe, and continued a certayne space: they hadde the trées to defende them, and so foughte a long space, withoute any slaine: in the ende, there was a Prisoner taken, and they likewise had taken one, whiche examined, they were founde to bee fréendes, then they lefte off with hurte on eyther side, and laughed well at the matter.

Afterwards they departed to the Camp, and Narbonus neuer after went abroade, for he grew shortly so sicke, as he doubted greatly his recouerie: which his Captaine séeing, and suspecting that hée could not liue, was con­tent to let him goe home, if hée would, for that there went a great number besides himselfe very sicke, and maruellous weake: he made no refusall, but departed straight towardes the Sea: when hée came there, the Shippe was alreadie prouided for the sicke Souldi­oures, and hée was appoynted one amongst them: and séeing the companie, some sicke of the Plague, and o­thers [Page 31] the sores running on them, thought with him­selfe that those smelles woulde kill him, and if hée went with them, hée coulde not liue till hee came to Vi­enna: therefore determined rather to die there, than to ende hys lyfe amongst suche loathsome creatures: and then hee remembred, that to dye amongst them, and to bee cast ouer boorde, his Unckle shoulde neuer héere of his deathe, nor anye of his fréendes knowe where hée was become, and dying in that place, and laying there his bones, it mighte bee knowen to his Unckle, and notifyed to the rest of hys friendes: but better happe came to him than hee looked for, and for­tune nowe beganne to bee fauourable, that long had ha­ted him.

After the departure of these Sicke Creatures, there came to the house where Narbonus lay, a Mer­chaunte, who was readye to take Shippe fraugh­ted to Vienna, and stayde but euen for the nexte Tyde.

Talking of some matters, Narbonus vnderstoode that hee was of Vienna, and also knewe his Unckle, and therefore offered willingly if hee woulde, to goe in hys Shippe, to whiche greate courtesie Narbonus made no denyall, but séemed the best contented man liuing. The appoynted houre nowe come, and all thinges in readynesse, they wayed their Anckours, and hoysed vp theyr Sayles: the winde filled theyr Sayles with a sweete softe gale, and the Seas sée­med very fauourable to trauell on, yet Narbonus was verye fearefull, and hee doubted greately of his passage: for beeing strong and lustie, at his comming ouer, and yet extreame sicke, hee thought nowe bee­ing so weake, that hee must néedes dye: but he was so weake, that the Sea coulde not make him sicke, but hee that in sixe dayes before tasted no meates, began now to séede hungerly.

[Page 32]Sayling towards his desired home, as many sundrie cogitations assayled him, as he thought there were Starres in the Skie, he remembred his déere Unckle, and the pitifull wordes he woulde vse to him when he came home: he maruelled whether he would be perple­xed, séeing him so miserable, or reioyce of his safe re­turne: how he would disgest the discourtesie of his Cap­taine, and the hard dealing with him, that shewed him so faire a face in the time of prosperitie, but regarded him not drowned in aduersitie. Then he maruelled that Phe­mocles neyther sente letter to him, nor certified him by any messenger, doubting him to be but fickle, and fréend in felicitie, vnstedfast, and vnstayed, fléeting from him in this vnfortunate time, and giuing him ouer, when hée most néeded his help, doubting their former procéedings, and mutuall amitie, to be drowned in the floud of forget­fulnesse, and put into euerlasting obliuion, he being in se­curitie, and the other in calamitie, mistrusting those faithfull vowes, and entire embracings, woulde be left without liking, and conueyed into curiousnesse: Then blamed he himselfe for iudging so hardly of his fréend, and condemning him without any proofe that had not yet falsifyed his fidelitie, nor violated his honestie: Then remembred hée the imbracings at their méetings, that should enterchangeably passe from one to the o­ther, and the pretie phrases that shoulde bée vsed be­twéene them, would burne their boyling breastes, and enflame their frying fancies, to possesse that place of pri­uiledge, possessed before by them: musing whether Phemocles woulde most reioyce, or he bée most glad: for that the one was forced by his father, the other con­streyned not with his owne consente: then he imagi­ned how they shoulde dyet their affections, and vse their amitie, so as they might neuer be wéerie of their loue, but make it séeme fresh, as at the first.

Amongst other his cauilling cogitations, and fonde fancies that thus assayled him, Fidelia was neither for­gotten, [Page 33] nor out of the number: But if the truth were knowen, her name called first in question, happilie whither absence had procured dislikinge, and choyce had beene made of such as were no flinchers, but would sticke to their tacklinges, and fade like euery frost, but bide all bruntes, and haue a shade for euery showre, and a salue for euery sore: then feared hee her secrecie, and doubted shée was so close as a Siue, that it was knowen to her Father, and so mighte hinder their pre­tence: the inconuenience that might bee gotten there­by, and the preiudicialitie it might procure: for as it was hote with one hande, so might it bée cooled with one Carde: then he mused on the mariage day, and the solem­nizing therof, the courtous crue that should bee inuited, and their passaunces in pleasure, with the celebration of their fortunate fidelitie, lincked in the bandes of amitie, determined the time, and the place: drowned almost in these cogitations, and wallowing in the fits of his fancy, new supplyes alwayes assayled him, and contrary came in their places, like the water bubble in a raynie day, or when the weather is setled to raine, one dieth and an o­ther riseth in that place: or like the Moone in a winters night, when the weather is warme, when the Clowdes rocke a pace, and passe fast ouer her: now is she hidden, and then sheweth her selfe againe: Or like as when an armie marcheth by, or passeth a longe: some goe alwaies bie, and others possesse their places: or like to the running of a softe Riuer, or the passinge of a narrow floud that runneth swifte: or like the wallowing waters, tumbling and roulinge, one straight after the other, neuer stayinge till they beate on the Beache, or hit against the harde Rockes: Or like a great flocke of shéepe runninge through a narrow Lane, or passinge foorth of some gate, so fast as some runne bie, others are in their places: so fared his fancies, and so wauered they: so ranne they forward, and so neuer stayed they longe vpon one poynte: but by how much the more his sences were eleuated with these [Page 34] contrary cogitations, by so much the more was the tedi­ousnes of that toyling trauaile shortned: swimming thus as well in the waues of his will, as in the waters of his wishes: in the floudes of his conceyued felicitie, as in the Sea of securitie, and in the affections of his fancies, as in his shakinge Ship: hee espied at length the shoare of his safegarde, and the Hauen of his happinesse: the Porte of his pride, and the arriuinge place of his reste: Now hée behelde Vienna at the full, and discerned the sight of the whole Towne: then lookinge on his vile ap­parrell, and his torne ragges: the vncleanesse of his cloathes, and the filthines of his face: the chaunge of his countenaunce, and the complexion conceiued of his yll dyet: knew not whether to goe presently into the towne or stay till the shadowie night approched: or if he should so goe to his Unckles house, to put a Uisour before his face: if hée should not finde his Unckle at home, to make him knowen to the seruauntes or not: if hee should make him selfe knowen, his Unckle not there, they would bée sorowfull, not knowing how to helpe him: and if not tell who hee were, they would not receiue him béeinge so ragged a coult, & so like a roge: duringe the counterbuffe of these crosse cogitations, and abidinge the méetinge of these flowing fancies, the Ship thrust to the shoare, and came to the landinge place: by this time the Sunne had seduced him selfe to the inferiour partes of the earth, and cleane out of their sight an houre beefore. Narbonus then treadinge his steppes on more firme ground, than not longe béefore hee could, came directly to his Unckles house, where entering in, found the Tables couered, & his Unckle ready to sit down, to whom he did his duetiful obedience, and vsed such courtesie as hee best thought.

Henricus stared earnestly on him, and looked longe béefore hee knew him: but perceiuinge it to bee his Nephew, and not any other man, imbraced him so hard, as if hee should neuer haue séene him agayne, saying:

Alas Narbonus, with tricklinge teares, and watry [Page 35] eyes, how harde hath fortune dealt with thee? and how fauourable with mee? how frowarde was thy fate? and how luckye my lotte? how vnsatiable thy rigour? and how sure my safetie: had I beene thy companion, or thy fellow partner, in this villaynous voyage, or borne a parte in thy perplexed perilles, my care had beene the lesse, and my consolation the greater: thy hap more for­tunate, and my minde better satisfied: thy dread without daunger, and my perplexity without perill: whom hadst thou for thy companion? or who was thy Cabin fellow? Alas are these pale cheekes, and these whitely lippes the face of my Nephew, and the fauour of my beloued Nar­bonus? how haste thou beene tormented, and in what manner hast thou beene tumbled? how pined, and howe plagued? how weather beaten, and how belly battred? how depriued of thy reste, and how beguiled in this bar­gayne? O Narbonus, how happy is thy home, and how lucky thy owne Land? how fortunate heere thy fréends and how doth Vienna swimme in pleasure? they are trou­bled neyther with Sommers shyninge, nor pinched with Winters blastinge. But are these thy owne Robes, or hast thou borowed them? What Armes giuest thou in this Coate armour? or in what place hanges thy Shéelde? the Lyon roaringe? or the Tigre tearinge? the halfe Moone, or the white Beare? No, thou giuest the Nitte nippinge, or the Louse rampinge: But O good God the mutabilitie of felicitie, and the vncertainty of this estate: the troublesome time of this paltry Pil­grimage, and the vale of this Uanitie: the place of per­plexity, and the Mother of Misery: God hath disposed to euery thing life and lyuing, and giuen to all other crea­tures a restinge place: but man hath no certainty of his béeing, nor any time apointed wher he shal alwaies rest: he is borne here, & nourished a thousand miles off, leading here his infancie & youth, and his old age he knoweth not where or in what place: when a man presumeth most vpon his good hap, then is hée likeliest to fall: and when [Page 36] hee thinketh the steppes are troden for him, then hee soo­nest slippeth: when hee thinketh hee sitteth in Fortunes lap, then is death in his dish: neuer happy whilest hee li­neth, and neuer haplesse till hee bee borne: when hee thinketh the boysterous blastes are blowen ouer, the croo­ked Cliftes compas him about: and when hee thinketh at daunger is drowned in forgetfulnesse, then begin his mée­rest miseries: If the Sunne shine hote in winter, it bée­tokeneth foule weather, and when the Porpose playes a­boue water, it is some signe of rayne: thou hast tasted both bale, and blisse: felicitie, & vnhappinesse: and the sowre, so well as the swéete: some mishap is alwayes ready at our doores, but fauourable fortune is hard to finde: but I maruaile how thy tender body could abide the bruntes which thy backe hath borne: for could thy weake nature digest thinges of great difficultie, when not well thou couldst carry the crosse of a litle vnconstancy: few fréends I thinke thou foundst to further thy fauour, and as fewe well willers to complayne thy calamitie: no penny, no Pater noster, nor no money, no Masse: hee that hath litle, shall haue nothinge, but somewhat hath some sauour: I thinke thy fare was the least, and thy misery the most: the lesse thou haddest in kéepinge, the more vntollerable thy gréefe: O the shiftinge that thou sawe [...]t, but thou I doubt couldst not scratch: the swearinge, but thou couldst not sweate: the flattering, but thou couldst not fayne: the dissemblinge, but thou couldst not double: the stealinge but thou couldst not filche: and the brablinge, but thou couldst not brawle: hee that cannot steale in a Campe, must not liue vnder a Captayne: and hee that cannot playe the knaue in the Féeldes, must not liue in the warres: eyther steale, or sterue: if not catch, then beg: if not filche, then hange.

O detestable lyfe, and O corrupted libertye: spoyled by deuouring cormorantes, and loathed by the misdemea­nour of vnreasonable outrages: by murtheringe Mates, and by quarellinge caytifes: by ryotous Rebels, and by [Page 37] villainous Vipers: I speake not that the Warres are not necessarie, for that I know (otherwise) we should not enioy our owne: Kings must by that meanes be resolued to reason, and Traytours and Tirants tamed and puni­shed: yet the abuses are vntollerable by the Captaines, and without reason of the Souldiours: But as the brea­thing out of my bitter words is no remedie against their wicked life, so thou once depriued of these outragious roysters, shalt neuer by my consent haue any parcell of their patrimonie againe. But I wast my wordes in vaine, and moue thée with the remembrance of those things which gréeue thee, such necessaries as thou wan­test shall be to morrow prouided, and those things which are lacking as speedelie made readie as may be: meane while, I wish thee be as merie as thou mayest, and assure thy selfe, that thy Unckle reioyseth not a little thy safe returne.

Déere Unckle replyed Narbonus, my trauels haue bin troublesome, and my wayes wéerie: my iourneys great, and my profite small: my labour loathsome, and my toile vnrequited: the hazard of my life oft in danger, and the fruition of my health voyde of all hope: my young yeares are made to beare aduersitie, and your grauitie and good­nesse to giue me good counsell: My youth replete with so­row, and my dayes filled with vnhappinesse, beeing strong and stoute, may better abide bitter bruntes, and endure sharp shoures: Your antientnesse weakened with former factions, and tasting the tediousnesse of toyles, is now forced to content your selfe quietly, regarding not the nouelties that dayly ensue, the hazarding of my life, with losse of friends and libertie, will be the cause of my happinesse, and more certaine felicitie. The greatest charge of a Souldiour is carefull, and the lesser liues la­mentable: when the best are vnprofitable, can the worst be tollerable? when the best are gall, must not the worst be garlike? when the best are diuelish, must not the worst bee hellishe: Here Rigour ruleth, and Reason run­neth [Page 38] away: faith flyeth, and fidelitie is forgotten: Iu­stice is no Iudge, and honestie hath no portion in this place: mercie is not mainteyned, and loue is little re­garded: The robbing, and the rifling: the stealing, and the staruing: the killing, and the cutting: the slasshing, and the bitter blowes: the biting blastes, and the sharpe showers: the pitifull playntes, and the gréeuous gro­nings: the infected filthinesse, and the pestilent plagues: the dreadfull deathes, and the terrible torments, woulde mollifie the strongest eyes to shead bitter teares, and make the most vnkind conscience to yéeld some succour: For my part I can bragge with the least of my beatitude, and boast with the best of my bitter braules: vaunt with the least of my felicitie, and crake with the most of my discourtesie: least luckie amongst the liuing soules, and my death as detestable, had I then raked vp my bones: who lost all had no warrantise to gette any more: and I lost no lesse y ^t makes me so poore, as naked as my naile, and as leane as Lazararus, as poore as Iob, and as many faces as a Shéepe: As for my man, he by this time hath tried his fortune, and proued his felicitie: sicke I lefte him, and who should seeke, dead should finde him: when I lost my apparrell, then lost I also him: my money was too heauie cariage, and he too stately to awaite on my poore personage.

To shewe you the monstrousnesse of the Warres, and the noblenesse of that Armie, the successe was most happie, and our Souldioures escaped well.

To speake of the company of footemen, and the great assayes, the batterie, and the blowes, the beséegings, and the breaches, the soucing shotte, and the piercing pikes: the courage of our Captaines, and the discomfi­ture of our Enimies, the time woulde séeme too tedious, and the labour too loathsome: but at any time héereaf­ter, when it shall please you, commaund me to demon­strate, I shall most dutifully do your desires, and most o­bedientlye [Page 39] fulfill your requestes: but bée you assured, that I neuer meane to serue more, and my owne Coun­trey excepted, I haue killed a Souldiour.

Then sate they downe to Supper, but his appetite was small, and his desire to eate, lesse: yet hée strayned no courtesie, and woulde not séeme curious, yet sate, though smallie to his ease, and eate, though little to his lust.

After Supper, he bidde goodnight to his Unckle, and gotte him to his bedde, which hee thought was the sof­test that euer hee layde his limmes in, and the pleasan­test that euer he came in: there hee rouled, and there hee tossed: there hee tumbled, and there hee wallowed: sometimes hee laughed to himselfe, for ioy of his safe returne, and then againe hee lamented, to thinke of his losses: then was hee merrie that his Unckle was so gladde of his comming home, and then was hee so­rowfull to thinke how pitifully his Unckle complay­ned his calamitie: then was he pleasantly disposed, to thinke of the renning his fréendship with his auntient companions, then contrarie troubled, lest those whome hee best loued shoulde flie the fielde and forsake hym.

The contrarietie of cogitations were like as when two Floudes méete, or the diuersitie of his imaginati­ons like the ebbing and flowing of the Seas.

I thinke Anthonie at his returne to Roome was not better contente to enioy his forepassed pleasures, than was Narbonus to possesse his quiet Countrey, and cour­teous companyons. And Aeneas not more gladde, when hee had escaped from the slaughter of Troy, then he con­tented in crossing the Seas, and leauing the place of his pouertie. Caesar not more reioyced of his triumphes after his trauell, nor Vlisses better contente to come to his owne home, then hee desirous of the place hee now possessed, or ioyfull of his good happe for comming so wel: and I thinke Narbonus would choose to be a prentise [Page 40] in Vienna, before a Prince of Spaine: though he were trou­bled with his sicknesse, and the change of his diet had al­tered his fauour, yet could he not sléepe in his bedde, for the ioyes he conceyued, nor rest that nighte, for com­forting himselfe with his safe returne: but within foure or fiue dayes after, with kéeping good diet, and vsing good order, he retained his former fauour, and gained his aun­tient complexion, determined therefore to spend that day in visiting his fréend Phemocles, and in renuing of his old acquaintance: then went he to his Fathers house, and enquired of him for his sonne, but he answered that he was gone into Spayne two moneths sithence, and he was not certaine of his returne: Narbonus yéelded him thanks for his courtesie, and so departed home againe. The in­warde ioy he conceyued belike of his safe arriuall, or pricked with some imaginations to forget their fidelitie forepassed, but this is most certaine: his desire towardes Phemocles was nothing so [...]éepe as before, nor his loue to Fidelia nothing so great as before his going: After­ward desirous to speake with Fidelia, or by some meane [...] to vse some conference with hir, yet fearefull to be mi­strusted, or to haue any suspition grow, as well for his owne honestie, as for hir credite, shortly after he wente to the Churche, and there thought to méete with hir, thinking that she, who of late was so deuoute a Vota­rie, was still so sainctly a seruitour: and she that of late was sworne the Seruant of Venus, was not now one of the Virgins Vestall: she that but late was the only ioy of Narbonus, was yet his faithfull freend, and prest at his commaundemente.

There he sate all the time of seruice, and watched the deuotion of his Saincte, but he gained as much sight of hir, as if he had bin out of the Churche: for hir deuoute­nesse that daye was nothing, and she came not to the place of Prayer at all: thus hee returned home so wise as hée was before, though not so well contented as hee thought to bee. Not longe after, his Unckle made [Page 41] a great Feast, and inuited all his neighboures aboute him, and least Fidelia shoulde be there lacking, Narbonus woulde take the paynes to bidde her himselfe: to the accomplishmente whereof, for that there was none so fit as him selfe, hee was content to take that office vpon him, and his Unckle willingly condiscended it should bée so: At the appoynted day, hee inuited first one, and then an other: then went hee to the Father of Fidelia, vncer­tayne what to doo, whither to bid her Father and her both, or but him alone: if but him alone, then he doubted shee should not come: or to say first him selfe, and then her: or after his speaking to him, to request her himself: then thinkinge so she might lawfully frame some excuse: then bee thought to desire him, and hee should speake to his Daughter: But in fine, goinge boldly, and hauinge reiected all feare, hee wente into the house, where hee found one of his men, who askinge for his Maister, the Seruaunt answered hee was in his Chamber: then hée requested the Seruaunt that hee might speake with his Maister from Henricus: the man went and certified his Maister therof, who came presently to him, and imbraced Narbouus ioifully, to sée him so safely returned: he questi­oned with him of many matters, touchinge the estate of the Warres, and asked him of many thinges in his tra­uayle: who answered him directly to his demaunds, and resolued him in euery thinge that was asked. Then sayd Narbonus.

Sir so it is, my Unckle hath inuited certaine of his Neighbours and fréendes, and your household for one a­mongst the rest: pleaseth you therfore to accompany that honest crue, your comming shall be very grateful, though your entertainement [...]ée but simple.

Hee thanked Henricus for his great courtesie, and pro­mised to fulfill his lawfull request.

Narbonus departed, not so well satisfied as hée would haue wished, yet better pleased then hee imagined hee should haue bin: but amongst other matters, hee mar­uelled [Page 42] hee could not see his Saint hee serued, but yet arminge him selfe with the helpe of hope, hee departed home driuing out one nayle with another cōceyte, depri­ued of dispaire, and certified of safety: Then declared hée to his Unckle, at the appointed day, they would all ac­complish his desires: meane while hee fed vpon felicity, and chewed nought but his owne conceytes, yet his drugges were not so hard to digest as béefore his voyage, nor his Pilles so perilous but that hee could put them ouer without daunger of death.

The desired day now come, and the time that Nar­bonus long expected, now expired, the appoynted guestes approched, first one, and after another: in the ende came the Father of Fidelia, and then shee her selfe: but had shee knowen Narbonus to beene so neare her, shée would haue strayned courtesie, and stayed still at home.

Henricus courteously welcomed first her Father and then her selfe.

Then Narbonus in the best manner hee could, wel­comed the Father, and comminge to her, his eyes be­wrayed the secrecye of his thought, and his lippes stayed so longe vpon her cheekes, as the company might imagined him to be dumbe: then holding her fast by the faire fist, hee spake as followeth.

And you Gentlewoman, better welcome then Golde, and more lyked of mee, then all the precious thinges in Germanie: Let not your trauayle therfore seeme trou­blesome, nor your iourney gréeuous, for the one shall bee requited with courtesie, and the other gratified with good will: which pleaseth you to accept patiently, shall bée surrendred bountifully.

Her replye hee would not stay, fearinge beeinge suspected of the company, then sate they all downe to Dinner, and fedde on such fare as there was prouided: Narbonus glutted him selfe with the sweete sight of his seemely Sainct, alwayes feedinge on her amorous [Page 43] eyes, but Fidelia fedde on disdayne, and could eate no meate till shee had eased her stomacke to Narbonus: Then beholding the great cheare, and seeinge the sump­tuous fare, hee was not vnmindfull of his late feastes, and could not forget those dainty dishes.

Dinner ended, the company disposed them selues to sundry actions, and diuerse pastimes: the elder compa­ny to questions touchinge their estate: and the younger to more pleasaunt sportes, and alwayes as one waxed stale, they renewed it with some other more fresh.

Narbonus espying Fidelia without any to talke withal, and leaning at a Window, began thus to assayle her, and spake as foloweth.

Mistresse Fidelia, Vlisses after the longe time of ab­sence, and the sharpe showers hee endured, returned to his welbeloued Penelope, and inioyed her at length, whose seconde meetinge was as acceptable, as their first mariage: The Daughter of Iepthath had such an inward desire to haue the first sight of her Father, as it cost her the best bloud in her belly: and Tullie was more ioyfully receyued into Rome after the death of Scilla, then in al his life time beefore: and Narbonus hauinge gayned the sweete sight of his faythfull Fidelia, is now contente to offer him selfe sacrifise, to pleasure his beloued Mistresse: the time of my absence hath beene tedious, and my toylinge iourney not without daunger, the greater my greefe, and the harder my happe: often at the bitter brincke of my gapinge Graue, but now safely returned, eased of my pensiuenesse, and attayninge the type of my former felicitie, surrenderinge my selfe to the curi­ousnesse of your courtesie, and offeringe my selfe slaue to the brauery of your beauty, which I offer, not parte, but all, into your heauenly handes, the helper of my happinesse, and the redeemer of my fore lost libertie: Whereof beeing depriued, my life shall not long last, nor my dayes any time endure: But as my contagious [Page 44] cares could not bee counted, nor my miseries manifested: my dyinge deathes, and yet lyuing. In like case, can now my heauenly graces be shewen, or my earthly pleasures manifested, gayninge your goodnesse, and hauinge your happinesse? Can the foule fly, her feathers plucked away, and her flickering winges left naked and bare, doth shée not presently fall to the earth, & so pine away? The sory shéepe depriued of her flouncinge fleece, is subiect to the scorchinge of the Sunne, and the bitinge of flyes, seeking the shades, and couetinge the couertes, till the waighty wooll haue couered her bare backe, and her fleece growen in such order as before. The true Turtle hauinge lost the company of her Mate, mourneth till shee die, and ne­uer enioyeth any thinge. Liuia sooner gayned Anthony his pardon, then all the rest of the Romaynes could: and Fidelia hath woonne Narbonus to loue her, which beefore could not bée perswaded to like any: and is he not tyed to the fayth of Fidelia, and prest to die a thousand deathes to pleasure his swéete Mistresse? Pleaseth you therfore to tarry no moe times, nor to driue of no moe dayes: to bid no moe bargaynes, nor to looke for no other intreatinges but to ende this tractable Tragedy, and finish the fulnes of our felicitie, by protesting before God and answering béefore the patient audience our auncient amitie, by ioyning of handes, and vniting of two seuerall soules in one body, and the Church rites vsed, as the order is: Pleaseth you therfore to will the time, and appoynt the place, I shall bée prest at your commaund, and obedient to doo as you shall like: As for my spéedy departure, and the posting of my iourney, I was hasted by a Harbinger that would not stay a time, and mooued by such a messen­ger that would not awayte my leysure: forced therefore frowardly to abandon your beautie, and hasted to fly your fauourable face, which had I made denyall, my penalty should haue beene payed to my preiudicialitie, and my punishment more greeuous then gaynefull: my loue would haue lost the lyking of my loyalty, and my liberty [Page 45] would haue cost me my life: Had I come to taken my fréendly farewell, and as dutie woulde, to haue knowen your pleasure: the sighes and the sobbes, the teares and the kisses: the farewels, and the partings, would haue bin so vnpleasant, and the mutabilitie so hard to disgest: the last adue so lamentable, and my bewaylings more bountifull, than were the sorowes of Orpheus, leesing his Wife againe after he had recouered hir out of Hell. In déede I confesse euery blotte is a fault, and euery hole blame worthie. Offensiue I was in departing, and giltie in going without licence, for the which my misdemea­nour, and voluntarie presumption, I stande bounde at the barre of your beautie, and appeale to your fauou­rable courtesie, and if therein I did offende willingly, I craue pardon earnestly: I stay your fauourable answere, and the pronouncing of your penaltie.

Small penaltie Sir replyed she, but such as it is hath bin long sithence pronounced, and it is neyther better nor worse, but that from henceforth you neuer offer to moue one motion of such matter, nor follow the pursuite of this your frustrate purpose any farther: you know Narbonus, the Eyas Hauke is soone reclaymed, but if she be not fedde, she will quickly away: the Colte béeing well handled, will be made to the Saddle, but vse him not well, and he will haue the tricke of a iade: the bricke must be firste made before the house bee built: and the Taylour must haue his cloath, before he fashion the gar­mente: the Shomaker must haue his leather, before hée can fashion his lachet: and the Apothecarie his confecti­ons, before hee make his drugges: you recken without your hostes, therefore you are like to pay déere for your pennyworth: you fishe before the nette, and you haue found a Frogge: you shotte your shaft before you set your marke, therefore you were best to leuell againe: Doth not the Sunne make the grasse grow? and doth it not also drie vp the water? the rayne breaketh the sprou­ting eares of Corne, yet maketh the Béeche freshe and [Page 46] gréene: doth not the running Riuer soften the dirt, and harden the pitch? hath the sight of my beautie so infected you, that your senses are seduced out of your owne custo­die? The restreyning of your courtesie shall therefore hencefoorth be kept so close, as you shall not find one eye to looke vpon me vaynely: He that should tast the courte­sie of so quicke a caruer, should arise from Dinner so hungrie as he sate downe: and she that should trust your talke so full of toyes, should make a long haruest of a few thistles. The running Riuer neuer returneth nor flo­weth as the walowing Sea, the Westerne winde re­tireth not to the place from whence it came: and the Rayne and Snow go not backe into the Skies againe: If in this I haue spoken, I turne my cappe, or alter my mind, count my words neuer to be woorth credite, and my déedes to deserue double infamie. Though I were as hote as Aetna, yet now am I as colde as Cacasus: and though I blazed like a hauin, yet now I lie smothering like wette straw: if at the first so h [...]te as a tost, yet now so cold as a stone, and neuer so hote in loue, but now as colde in desire. There are I know in Spayne proper pée­ces, and pretie paragons: daintie Damsels, and trimme trulles, more fitte for your feeding, and more daintie for your diet: more louely to looke on, and more handsome in behauiour: more daintie in their dealings, and more faithfull in their fancies: more beautifull in fauour, and more loyall in heart: This iourney you framed of a sette purpose, and thinke to blind my eyes with a bald excuse: but you halt before a criple, and limp before a lame body: you a fléeter, and I faithfull: shall you gaine my loue, and shall I lose my libertie? nay, you shall first be deceyued of your hope, and I depriued of a flatterer: you a flincher and flytouch, and I stéele to the hard backe: you vnder pretence of loue thinke to lure me to your lust, I in safe­garde of my honestie discharge you of such lustly loyaltie: But you haue missed the cushion, and sitte on the bare bench, I frustrated of a faithlesse fréend, and discharged [Page 47] of a rancke Rebell: you sette your honestie to sale, but I sell not my maydenhead in shoppes: you a shifter, in deceyuing so simple maydes as my selfe, and I of no ho­nest behauiour, to retayne so trustlesse a treacher: your perfumed fancies, and wanton wordes, shall not re­clayme me to your call, but my courtesie, not excéeding the bandes of honestie, haue not made you a warrant to winne me to your will: You can prate like a Parrat, and flatter like Aristippus: the one shall not infect me, nor the other ouercome me: He that will leaue his wife, to find a louse in another Countrey, shall neuer be my faithfull fréende, though I be his faithlesse foe. In déede Sir, it is a cowardly part to tarrie at home where you should winne credite: and I were a carelesse trull to match with such a mate, as when he can finde no other, would then pray vpon me, but you are beside the saddle, and haue missed your marke: Thinke you in this long time of your absence, I am to séeke of a husband? no, trust me, another hath wonne me by wisedome, and hee shall weare me by wit. You lost me by leauing your loyaltie, & I forsake you, not forcing your flatterie. If my sight at your departure should haue dangered your disease, my cō ­panie at your returne shal not infect your fancie. You are a good Souldiour, and the stragglers you know come oftē short home: Bycause therfore you haue wandred so wide, let some other take you vp for stumbling, & set you at sale, that would sel others honestie: No, Iason was a false flée­ter, and Aeneas a lewde louer: the one taried a time, and then returned: afterward went, and neuer came againe: the others villainous pretēce once gotten, fled, and neuer looked behind him: These both Princes, they both Pirats: these both louers, they both Traitours: these two Ladies lost their liues with loue: they both laughed in their slée­ues once hauing gained their lust. He that would not tar­rie at home to weare me, shall not now he is come home win me to wed me. But why do I make a long season a­bout a few Grapes? and whē they are gathered, they will [Page 48] prooue but rotten: Know this therefore Narbonus that as you had me, so shall you neuer haue me: and as you woonne me, so haue I lost you: I was not so soone caught, but I am as quickly gone: When you had wonne me, you should then haue worne me, but now you haue lost me: I am not for your liking, my answere is therefore, that you kéepe your toung still in your mouth, and wast not your wordes in vayne: To tell you who shall enioy me, you were neuer the wiser, and I little the better: but as­sure your selfe, whosoeuer do weare me, shall first wedde me, and he that hath wedded me, shall then weare me at his pleasure: as for your selfe, I giue you for euer the Basalos manos: therefore neuer tempt me with wanton words, nor alure me with paltrie promises, if you doe, I will make you no answere, or if you moue me neuer so much, I will kéepe still my toung, and not opē my mouth.

Narbonus was nipped in the head like a Cock [...]sparow, and gréeued at the gall, neyther knew he how to looke, nor what to answere, but at last thinking to giue hir as faithlesse a farewell, as she gaue him a gréeuous gratula­tion, he framed himselfe to speake, and replyed as follo­weth.

I sée Fidelia, that it is no fable, and not so common as true, that a womans good will endureth but a wincking, and hir loue lasteth but the lighting of a Candle: to know the cause of this suedaine breache, and to vnderstande the meaning of your flying so fickly away, would do me little ease, and lesse pleasure. And hath my absence procured so your perplexitie? and could you not stay my returne? by­cause I went, therefore was I faithles [...]e: and had I stayd at home, should I not bin as haplesse? thou sayest my go­ing was to gaine some girle so honest as thy selfe, no, thou knowest I was forced to go, and in going, I lost my liber­tie at home, and in not being at home, I lost thy liking, and haue gained thy yll will, a great iewell surely, and a péerelesse péece, a painted sheath, or an Appothecaries pot, better lost thā found, & better forsaken thā followed, [Page 49] for who findes thée, shall finde a flirter, and who inioyes thee, I wishe him no greater plague. Am I as false as Iason? nay, art thou not as light as Layes? am I Appius to spoyle thee of thy virginitie? nay, art not thou Flora that will bid all welcome? am I Clodius that went in womans apparrel, to depriue Pompey of he [...] honesty? nay, art not thou Medalia that would holde vp, thou carest not to whom? am I Eneas that gayned his pleasure, and then wēt his way? and art not thou so bad as runnagate Atlante, that lost the lyues of so many Nobles? in déede Lucretia dyed, her honesty once lost: and Virginia would rather lose her life, then forgoe that iewell her virginity: but thou that liuest in lust, wilte neuer die of loue: thou mayest well frye against the fire, but thou wilte neuer bée burnt with the flame: were thy case like to Lucretia, thou wouldest not refuse so gentle an offer, to take so shamefull a death: and werte thou Phillis, thou wouldest sée tenne husbandes hanged, before thou wouldest die thy selfe: In déede I woon the thee with an Apple, and shall léese thée with a Nutte: was thou of late so hote as Oyle, and now so colde as Iron: thou in loue ouer the shooes, and now in hate ouer the Bootes: thou cloakest thy col­lusion vnder the pretence of my absence, and couldst thou not stayed one yeare, thou wouldst yll haue stayed ten? When euery one doth like thee, some one shall wed thée: God giue him good, but his haire is like to grow out at his hoode: such faire faces, and such frowarde fancies: such louing lookes, & such lustly desires: such faire words and such false farewels: such wanton eyes, and such dis­sembling déedes: such a heauenly hart, and such a diuelish imagination: thou hast Hony in thy mouth, and a stinge in thy tayle: thy wordes are Suger, but thy déedes sauce: a paynted Pot, with poisoned Pottage: thou that wast drowned in dispaire, art now drenched in disdayne: hath my loyall likinge, procured mee so louelesse a Lady? and my flaming fire, turned to so cold a corosiue? thou wishest mée not to know the cause of this thy departure. In déede [Page 50] the knowledge will doo mee small pleasure, and the re­membraunce lesse for my aduauntage: hee that hath so faithfull a freend, were better haue some faythlesse foe: Fidelia is faithfull by interpretation, but thou faithlesse in thy imagination: thou banishest mee the presence of thy face, and I commaund thee to auoyde my faith: Thou puttest mee out of pay, and neuer more to craue thy com­pany: I put thee out of my passion, and will thee neuer to expect of mee any felicitie: Thou wishest me neuer to mooue one worde more whatsoeuer, and I put thée out of my Memento, and giue ouer that which so earnestly I I did perseuer: Thou saiest I waste my words in vaine and teare my time in trauaile, where there is no gaine: I ende therfore to speake more to Fidelia, once thy fayth­ful fréend, but now thy sworne enemy: once prest to plea­sure thée, now determined to hate thee: once thy terestri­all trust, now thy earthly trouble: Yet to quarrell with a woman, or to fight with a shadow: if I gaine the con­quest I léese my credite, and if I win the féeld, I shall goe home without victory: Therfore, for euer I forsake thee, and bid the euerlastingly adew, wishing thee to be more loyall to him, then faythfull to mee: more constant for thy owne credite, then trusty to mee for thy owne ho­nesty: and as thou hast giuen mee a gréeuous gratulati­on, so giue I thée a faithlesse farewell.

Then Narbonus returned to the Gentlemen, & Fidelia sate down amongst the Gentlewomen: thus passed they the time, till night made them part company: After they were all departed, and had yéelded thankes to Henricus, Narbonus entred into the inner parte of his cogitations, and to the secrete thoughts of his minde, which he found so contrary, as hee knew not on whether to take holde: The Supper ended, hée departed to his bed, where layd, hée vsed these wordes to himselfe.

O good God, when thou first madest Man, thou also framedst a Woman out of his flesh, to bee a helper in his tedious warfare, and a partaker in his toyling trauaile: [Page 51] a helper, nay rather a plague: for was not her minde straight mooued to mischéefe, and her wanton wil, quick­ly woonne to procure his fall? and by nature I thinke all Women are subiecte to that same infection, and follow the Line of their first leader: how litle time doth their loue and loyalty laste? and how small const [...]ncy, hath their greatest time of felicitie? how loose of their loyalty▪ and how lauish of their liberty? who will credite the glo [...]singes of a Woman? and who will beleeue their faire faces? their flatteringe features, with diuelish deuises? their sweete wordes, with Sirenes Songes? their muta­bilitie, and their vnconstancy? lost thou hast Fidelia ▪ and forsaken Phemocles.

O Phemocles, to enioy thy company I forsake all the faithlesse women in the worlde: But con [...]emne not all, Narbonus, though some bee false: thou knowest Lucretia was so chaste, that it lost her this life: and Susanna chose rather to yeelde to the fury of death, then consent to wic­ked lust: Dianira slewe her selfe, and Hero dr [...]wned he [...] selfe: Virginia was content to be executed of her Father, and the Daughter of Iepthath, to fulfill her Fathers pro­mise, was sacrifised: But Fidelia, her liking was the grea­test that might procéede from any woman, and now her disloyalty comparable with the most faythlesse that euer breathed: so soone entised to loue, & so quickly content to bestow her life on my loialtie & now so hastely willing to woorke my woe by hate. In deede the [...]oylinge Lead [...] will bee no hoater then faire Water, and the redde h [...]ate Iron so cold as a stone: and her loue so hot as fire, is now so colde as Yce: But who could imagine that vnder so faire a face coulde lye so foule a fancy? and that so sweet a tongue, woulde stinge worse then a Serpente? that vnder such paynted Cloathes, coulde bee such ragged Walles? and that so beautifull a body could nourish [...] so bitter bloud: But who hath not tasted this that I feele? or who hath not beene stunge? if I am bitte [...], if I am in the bryers, who hath not beene in the bushes, and if I [Page 52] were taken, who hath not beene caught? did not Hercules wife sende him a poysoned shirte? which no sooner on, but it sticke fast to his backe, and euer as hee would haue plucked it away, it tore the flesh with it, and neuer came off, till he yéelded to death? Did not Iesabell cause her hus­band to bee hated of the Lorde, and his bloud to bée giuen to Dogges for her wicked lust? Did not the wiues of the wisest Prince that euer was in the world cause him for­sake his gracious God, to follow their wicked lustes: and did not the wife of Iobe, wish him to curse God and dye.

O how vnsatiable are their wayes, and how wanton their workes? how dissemblinge their deedes, and how false their faythes? how lyinge their lippes, and how con­t [...]y their vile motions? and let a man go to the ground of his imagination, and to their perfect substaunce, what are they of their selues? and how much inferiour to vs? they cannot liue without our companyes, nor doo any thinge without our helpes: and what is that in them that wee so greedily gape after? and what the cause that wee so desire their companies? their beauty reserued, and a litle fauour in their face: All Women are alike, and euery one hath so much as the other: and yet a great number their faces but borowed, and their fauours pain­ted with paltry: but take that away, they are worse fa­uoured then wee, and more loathsome in euery respecte: worse shaped, and worse complexions: worse limmed, and worse legged: their condition is more vile, and their state more filthy: is not all that is in them their face? & al their other graces the foote & the hand? was not man first made? & is not his substance so much the purer? is not she weake of nature? why thē should shée be preferred before him? is she not more vile of conditiō? why thē should she be his coequal? is not her birth baser? why should her calling bée before his? but she being inferiour desireth superiori­tie, & would willingly haue the souerainty: yet in that she is weakest of nature, and more vile of condition, man is content to yeeld, rather then gayne so simple a conquest: [...] [Page 55] take away their Ruff [...]s, & they look [...], & they are [...]ple to behold: [...] of and they looke crabbe [...] their heair vntrust, & they look [...] They [...] forsoothe haue their Ringes, and their Bracelets: their Bū ­graces, & their Squares: their Hoods, and their Caps: their Iuelles, & their knackes: but take all these from them, and turne them lyke a man into a single Coate, and they looke lyke a new shorne shéepe, or lyke a F [...]wle pluckt [...] of her fethers: and what dooth a man lose in purchasing their dis­pleasure? nay, what dooth a man gayne in getting their fa­uour? a fewe wanton kysses, or a bundle of paltrie imbra­cinges, which passe lyke the winde▪ and fade lyke a shadow: and if happily a man possesse their honesty, that goodly Iuell: what a féeld he hath fought, and what a Treasure he hath gayned, what a conquest he hath made, and what a king­dome he hath obtayned, when he hath done what he ran, and gayned all he could desire, he goeth away sorowfull, and thincketh him selfe a foole for his labour. For if he loued her, he repenteth he defiled her, and were it to doo againe, he would neuer put it in practise: if he dyd it for de [...]re, and she not beautiful; then he calleth himself beast, to deale with her that he loatheth to looke on: Did not God ordaine them to be a plague vnto vs, and a necessary euill? what are they better, or what doo they get? what doo they gayne, or what doo they saue? nay, what doo they not spende, or what doo they not con­sume away? painfull to please, & péeuishly disposed all things that lyketh not them is nought, and if neuer so bad, lyking their lust it is excellent. Was not Dauid best beloued of God, and a mighty Prince? yet for a Woman, a manslayer, and purchased the displeasure of his God? Was not Salomon the wisest, and was not he the ritchest? yet entyced to the toyes of Women, and fled the fauour of his God (to gayne the glorie of his beuty?) And was not Simpson the stron­gest? for euerie lock was the strength of another man: Wo­men depriued him of his strength, & made him their laugh­ing stock: before, more strong then a Horse: now, ridden like an Asse: he must néedes confesse his strength, and payde his [Page 56] lyfe for his follie: those thrée the mightiest of the worlde, these thrée most myserable by Women: Was not that noble Cittie of Troy, sacked for a strumpette: and when it had cost so many liues, they gayned but a harlotte, he that spéedeth best, can not brag of his brauerie: and he that is best beloued, not boast of his felicitie: the clearest Riuer hath dyrt in the b [...]tome: and the fayrest Woman, some filthy­nesse within her: when their paynted cloathes are away, they are [...] ragged walles: The best blowen Trée, hath some blossome blasted: and the beautifullest body, hath some blemish in her demeanor: The Lepard is spotted by nature, and a Woman is stay [...]ed by kinde. Lyke as a Trée grafted with sundrie fruite vpon one roote: so is a Womans minde set with s [...]drie conditions. Their dealinges so daunge­rous, and their déedes so detestable: their mindes so mutable, and their hearts so doubtfull: as when a Man thinketh he hath the Fowle in his fyst, he hath but the fethers: and when a man thinketh he hath the hony Combe, he hath the Bée by the tayle: in déede they may wel be ralled a necessary euyll, for that they are out of conceyt with any goodnes: they are as cunning in the arte of flatterie, as if they had bene bound prentise to the occupation: to speake the fayrest wor­des that may be, and to performe their déedes, they care not howe stenderlie: to professe the greatest fréendship, and vse such enticing termes, as if a man should liue by their loyal­tie, and [...] no other foode but their fancies: but when it comes to the tryall, rancke rebelles, and excellent dyssem­blers: but to punish them, or to plague them, to torment them, or for a man to pay them as they deserue, a man gay­neth but reproche for his payne, and getteth but a miserable martyrdome, for so careles a conquest: and we are content this shall [...] for their priuiledge, and so they shall be ex­cused: they are the weaker vesselles, and therfore their na­ture to be borne with all: But ought not they rather being weaker, to beare with vs? and to vse submission to their su­periors, when their felicitie dependeth vpon our safety? Dyd not Sara call her Husband Lord? and dyd not Rebecca, obey [Page 57] in what she was cōmaunded? dyd not Octauius [...]ter, gaine Anthony his pardon, with the dutifull reuerence she vsed to her Brother? and did not Brisoida win the heart of Achil­les, with her modest grace? was not Susanna consent to créepe to her Husband? and was not the wife of D [...]trius content to ran Lackey like, by her husband? What a num­ber of noble Matrones, whose life depended vpon the curte­sie of their Husbandes: But ou [...] Damselles: must rule the soueraigne sway, & beare away the bel [...]es themselues. Dyd not noble Achilles, consume away amongst those Damsels? and that Giaunt Panthemophe, who had Beares wayting on him like Dogges, & could make subiect any wilde Beast: but yet a wanton Woman, he [...] turne to his wil: that great Capitaine Holofer [...]es ▪ whose sight made his eni­mie to quake, lost his life to wy [...] his lust, and was slaine by a Woman: and dyd not Herodias [...]unce before Herode, to haue the head of that godlie man Iohn& [...] commit they any offence whatsoeuer, and let them [...] thing blame woorthy, their aunswer is ready at their aperne string [...]: and no soner looke on a Man, but some excuse they haue ready: but if they want any thing worthy lyking, or néede the help of a man any way, then they flatter, and thē they glose, then they prate, and then they make sute, then speake they fayre, and then vse the swéetest wordes that may be: but the thing once obtayned they sue for, and that their desire gained, they looke so bigge, and speake so scornfully, aunswer so stately, and deny so daintely, they will couer their craft so cunning­ly, and hyde their hate so priuely, that a man would ima­gine, they would neuer séeke helpe againe, nor craue com­fort any way whatsoeuer: hope of a mans happinesse, and depende vppon his pleasure: stande to cortesie, or yéelde to curiositie. One vaunteth, of the beautie of such a bodie, an other braggeth of the brauerie of such a Mayden: one vaunteth of the wearing of the apparell of such a Dam­sell: and an other braggeth, that the attyre of such a ones head, is surpassing, and all forsoothe to haue them placed first them selues, and that others should cōmend their beauties: [Page 58] thus they all séeke for superioritie, bu [...] none [...] for mi­noritie. The great Elephant is in tyme reclaymed & made ientle, and the Lyon knoweth his kéeper: the Beare kno­weth his Maister, and the Oxe his féeder. But when will a Woman be subiect to a man, or yéeld to him in matters of reason? but let a man goe to the ground of their nature, and search the depth of their [...], and no doubt, that Woman whose conditions are most ex [...]e [...]lent, hath some faulte, and [...]he who is most clea [...]e, hath some blemish: the Triacle dooth aswell hurt, as driue o [...] poyson: too much Wine dooth make the brayne senceles, but two cuppes doo sharpen the wytte: the goodnesse of the one shoul [...] be p [...]serued before the vyle­nesse of the other, and the well vsing of any thing, is that on­ly which ought to be imbraced. If thy choyce be made of a wife, and that thou frame thy selfe in wedlocke▪ to leade the remaynder of thy life: the fayrest, or the best condicioned, the rytchest thou wouldest desi [...]e, or such a one as is beutifyed with the gyftes of nature. Alas thou hast gotten but a small purchase, and won but a small value: for if she be fayre, art thou not fearefull some other will lyke her? if merry & plea­sauntly disposed, then art thou infected with Ielosie, & thin­kest euery one the laugheth vpon, she lusteth after: if sober, then is she fullen, & thou regarde [...] not her company: is braue in her apparell, then is she proude: if but clea [...]ly, then is she sluttish: If she can talke well, then is she a prating Parrat: and if she aunswer not euerie foolish question, then is she a dotarde and a meacocke: If fruitfull and beare thée children, thy care is increased: if barren, thy sorrowe augmented: if a good huswife, and looke well about her businesse then is she a cribbe and a shrew: if she set her seruaunts about that which she might doo her selfe, then is she a fine Dame and will not foyle her fingers: If a good house kéeper, then will she vndoe her Husbande: if harde in her house, then she léeseth his cre­dite: Euerie way thy sorrowe is increased, and whatsoeuer she be, thy care groweth greater: when the best is sowre, can the worst be sauorie? the number is so small of good women, & the company so great of wicked, that often, blinde bayarde [Page 59] hath a good bargayne, and a right honest man beguyled with a shrewish slutte. A dayes wryting were too lyttle to recken vp their dealinges, and thy trauayle would not requite thy paine: was not that beast Pasiphae enamored of a Bull? and Cia [...]a gotten with chylde of her Father, Biblis in loue with her Brother: and Helen (who had the name for beutie) yet caused many to loose their lyues. But thē they will aunswer that a great number haue bene beguyled by the craftes of men, and deceyued by their collusion: but I speake not of all good Women, neyther am I so foolish to call their names in question, whose vertues yet shine as bright, as if they ly­ued and whose fame shall neuer dye: But were Dido nowe to dye, I doubt she would not be so hastie to slay her selfe: and I trust had Lucretia bene fauourably intreated, she would in time haue yéelded more quietly, though then, it cost her y ^e best blood in her belly: Were Procris now to take her farewell, she would be better aduised, and Sophronia would be verie yll bestead, before she would commit that which she dyd: Therfore their fayre faces may not flatter thee to fauor them, nor their louing lookes entyce thée to trie their trum­peries: nay, flatter not thy selfe in the imaginations of thy owne minde, but driue such doubtes out of thy heade: for, put these thinges once out of thy Memento, and thou wylt thinke to gayne that which thou hopest for before, and to ob­tayne that which is quite out of thy reache, yet thinke but thus with thy selfe, she regardeth not me: why then should I lyke her, and she loueth me not? why then should I not loath her? I care not for her, and I regarde her not: she shall be blotted out of my booke, & be cast for euer out of my thought. But happely thou wilt thinke, though at the first she séeme straunge, she will in tune be reclaymed: and though now she be coy in aunswering, yet will she be curteous and yéeld to my request: and though yet shée séeme dayntie, and make deniall, yet in time my trauaill may be tried to my felicitie, and my paine proue for my profite: For what wilt thou say, can be obtained without time? and in time thou shalt be far­ther of then at the first: in time thou shalt hardlie get that [Page 58] [...] [Page 59] [...] [...] [Page 60] that thy hart, which at the first, with ease thou mightst haue vomitted out of thy stomacke: doost thou not sée that a lyttle wound groweth to an vncurable sore: and a drop of poyson, runneth quicklie into all the beynes: a lyttle sprigge gro­weth to a monstrous Dake: and a lyttle bullet, will make a great breach in the wall. Why then shouldest thou flatter thy selfe, & léese the flesh to finde a shadow: when at the first, thou mightst haue layde it beside, or refused it like a morsell of meate, that lyketh not thy stomacke: first tomorrow, and then next day, driuing of the time, will driue thée into daun­ger, & delayes doo neuer serue to any goodnesse: but flée thou them, and they will follow thée: loathe them, and they will loue thée: care not for them, and they will craue thy compa­ny: shun them, and they will make sute after thée: looke not on them, and they will lust after thée: But thou must at e­uerie sight of them, off with thy cappe, and kisse thy hand: thou canst not sée them stāding at the do [...]re, but néedes must vse some gratulation, some talke, or some toyes: then in the night to be vnder their window, with songes, or to vse some kinde of Musicke: with somwhat thou must delight their foo­lishe fancies: and rather then fayle, endight some louing let­ter: then will they plumbe vppon thée like a Hauke, and crowe ouer thée like a Cocke of the Game: then must thou be sworne to their seruice, and wedded to their willes: not so much then, as a looke awry, or make a motion to laugh, vnlesse to please their fancies, and to féede their humours: ready at their beckes, & comming at their calles, at the hol­ding vp of a King, or at the least meane that may be made, vpon paine of aleagaunce, or getting their displeasures: then must thou be lauish of thy lyberalitie, and franke of thy frée will, to giue bountifullie, and to spende plentifullie: Then will thy purse be so poore, that thou shalt haue small cause to be proude: thou must furnish vp their Iuell boxe, and arme them with Bracelettes: royst them with Rings, and ruffle them with Ruffes: then must they haue Kniues, & Gloues, Lawnes, and stockinges. Then must you discharge the Mercers bookes, and pay the Habardashers man: bestowe [Page 61] that Stone, and giue that Glasse, care for no cost, and spare for no spending: And when thou hast all done, and giuen all they can demaunde, so yll rewarded for thy paines: or per­happes rowe in an other mans boate. Or what are the best of them all, without a man? or what is their filicity amongst them selues: like a Hogge without a head, & a Shéepe with­out a Shéephearde, as a Horse without a Maister, and a Trée without a blossome, a Uine without Grapes, and a fayre féelde without any fruite. Ours is the care, and ours the trauaile: ours the cost, and ours the charges, ours the la­bour, and yet ours the losse: ours the paine, and yet theirs the gaine. Are not these vnprofitable seruaunts, & loytring Lozelles, deuowring Caterpillers, and the eaters vp of our profite: we must watch, and we must warde: we must fight, and we must defend: we tyll, and we sowe, we kéepe them: and all that we can doo, too lyttle to gaine their good wylles: and they in recompence, pay vs two for one, more then we would, and more then they with honestie should. O Narbo­nus, thou now braggest like a Cocke of the game: but when thou séest thē, I feare me thou wilt be a crauen: but to auoyd that incōuenience, I will forsake them: and to preuent that daunger, I will not come into their companies: But in staying here, I must of force sée them: and I cā not abide in Vienna, but I must behold them: therfore I will for a time into y ^e Countrey, & there remaine till I haue quite forgottē thē: There may I hawke, & there may I hunt, there may I ride, & there may I vse any exercise: as for this loue, I make it for euer a quittance, & seale it with my hart & hand: for let me be busied w ^t my bookes, or vsing other matters, cōferring with any of our affaires, or occupied with any busines, what soeuer any thing y ^t I doo, so not id [...]ey disposed, loue is neuer remēbred, nor such lust thought vpon: loytring thus in my loathsom bed, my head is intoxicated: and spending my time loytringly, I am troubled with such vaine imaginatiōs, the fancies flée before my face lyke swarmes of Bées, and cogi­tatiōs grow as thick as y ^e Snow falleth: this lustly life shall therfore be left, & so much as will sustayne nature, I will a­low my selfe, & no soner awaked, & that these thoughts begin [Page 62] to throng in my head, but forsake my bed, and busie my selfe with my Bookes, and leaue to flatter my selfe any more, and cease to féede my minde with these vaine hopes.

Then he throughlie resolued him selfe, to vse no other ex­ercise but his Bookes, and to make his study, the onely place of his recreation: and seemed verie ioyfull that this his loue was not known to any, nor manifested to the dearest fréen­des he had. But then he remembred himself, that to abide at home, hauing neuer a fréende to whom he might declare his cogitations, or make copartener of his dooinges. As for the returne of Phemocles it was vncertaine, and how long h [...] would stay out, not known to him: and had he bene at home, no other fréends he would haue chosen for his companions. Then there assayled him so many sundrie deuices, and such fresh assaultes, to what he might betake him selfe, or howe he should spende the rest of his dayes: musing first on this thing, then on that place: first on this study, then on that ex­ercise: nowe on this trauayle, and then on that staying at home: and the inward ioy he conceyued, since his late Soul­diors life: the miserie he then sustayned, and the want and pouertie he was in: waying with him selfe howe he lyued like a seruile slaue, and nowe the pleasaunt life he sustained. All which made him forget the loue of Fidelia, and abolishe her cleane out of his minde: then he remembred being but young, and tarying at home, some company would vse him which he should not verie well like, and also that he should that way displease his Uncle: he therfore purposed to spend one yeere in the seruice of the Court, which would be verie profitable for him being well vsed: and vpon this determi­nation he forsooke his sluggish bedde, and thought to breake the matter to his Uncle: which if it should dislike him, he would not perseuere any further in it. Not long after, he found his Uncle at so good leysure, as they throughly deba­ted of the matter betwéene them. His Uncle séeing him so wylling to please him, and so glad to obey, graunted him his request, but lycenced him but for one yéere: and thervpon procured him the seruice of a good noble Gentleman in the [Page 63] Emperours Court, & such a one as he should not spend his time without some profit: and thervpon furnished him with all necessaries, that were wanting, & euerie thing (whatso­euer) was néedefull: then Narbonus tooke leaue of his Uncle, and went once againe to trie his fauourable Fortune.

PHemocles sayled with a soft swéete winde [...] & arriued ve­rie well in Spaine: where no sooner set on [...], & that he had a lyttle refreshed him selfe, but he enquired which way the Campe lay, and in what part of the Countrey▪ which was certified him to be verie farre off, and a long iorney thi­ther: But what trauayle was to [...]edious, or what way to wearisome? what iorney to long, or what passage to harde, to him that so earnestly desired the company of his fréende: and for whose sake, he would spare neyther ryding nor run­ning? He made great haste▪ but neuer the better, and great spéede, but prospered yll: thought long tyll he came there, and yet for all his haste, he is arriued short: he spared not his spurres, nor fauoured his Horse flesh: rode lyke a Royster, and doubted no daunger: all he thought to long that he was ryding, and yet as good neuer a whit, as neuer the better. He that made such haste, could not be many dayes: before he came to the Campe: though the marke were taken vp be­fore, that he shot at: In the ende he arriued at that place; for which he had posted so fast for, & then enquired for his Cap­tayne after he had found him, he asked for a Gentleman, his Souldior, named Narbonus: But his Captayne made so small regard of him when he was there, that he forgotte his departure: therfore aunswered, he knew not where he was, nor what was become of him: then he espied some that he had séene in Vienna, and such as he imagined knew him, of them he inquired, if they knew not such a man? and one, as he thought that came in their cōpanies? Then they replied, they knew him verie well, and were sorie for his mishappe: then they tolde Phemocles, that he was eyther dead, or ta­ken prisoner by the Turke: Phemocles not content with this aunswer, nor fully perswaded with their sayings, made [Page 64] farther search, and enquired to the vttermost he could: But he preuayled as much, as if he should haue asked of y ^e stones, or haue sought him in y ^e Sea: then in the ende he perswaded himselfe, for y ^t no letters came to him, nor no newes by any other, y ^t either he was dead, or he should neuer sée him again: he then departed so sorrowful as his heart could hold, & so la­mented his losse, as if he would haue died w ^t him for cōpany.

Who then had beheld the mourning of the Turtle, or the pining away without cōfort: or as the lytle Lambe weaned frō me tente of her Dam, still cryeth, & alwayes cōplayneth, till she haue forgotten her Nurse, or blotted out the remem­braunce of her mother: Or as when a man pulleth a ilender [...]yp, from the tender Trée, or cutteth away the rinde in the Spring time, bléedeth a great whyle after, and distylleth out teares, as it were, till y ^e barke haue couered y ^e place, or a new spring sprowted in y ^e steade: Or like the soft dropping Sūmer showers, which hang vpō the [...]ber cares of Corne, wher­with they did [...] their heauy headdes, and shake of the moyst teares, tyll the shyning Sun doo eleuate them to their sonner state, and make them holde vp their heades as before: Or as the flowing floods, that ouer run the brinks of the banckes, [...] amongst the gr [...]ene grasse, and ouer­whelmeth the tender toppes of the g [...]owing Flegges, which make them holde downe their heauy heads, and s [...]owpe to the grounde, which once sunke into the earth, or let out a­gaine any way, they stand stalking vp as at the first, and florish as they did before: So fared it with Phemocles, and so [...] he downe his head: his heart throbbed with­in him, and his moyst eyes could not kéepe the tryckling teares from his cheekes: First blaming his Uncle, and then con [...]empning his Captaine, for hauing so lyttle regard of him: His face was chaunged with this his lamenting, and his chéekes were pale and wan with blubbering, and wée­ping: in such order as a man might haue iudged by his out­ward actions, his inwarde thoughtes to be greatly moued, and his tongue bewrayed him: for in speaking, he often aunswered contrarie: the small pleasure he conceyued [Page 65] of this hastie voyage, and the lyttle ease he sustayned, in this tyme of his trauayle, so perplexed him, and so chaunged his nature, as euerie thing séemed to striue against his stomack, and euerie medicine was contrary to his dyet. Thus he romed vp and downe the Countrey a certayne space, to be­holde the order and pleasures therof: but imagining that he should be demaunded of the estate of the Countrey, & what he had séene there, worthy notice, thought he would view what he could sée, and carie newes what he had learned▪ He therfore left neuer a good Towne vnséene, nor any place of pleasure vnmarked: Somtimes he beheld the goodly Uines growing along the bankes, of some running Riuers (most excellent to behold) and verie good to refresh his weary spi­rites: Then the goodly Lymon trées, that were so effectu­ally set, as if Dame nature her selfe had bene ouerséeing the planter: then the Pomegranats, which fruite was so plea­saunt to beholde, and so fayre in sight, as he imagined were the Apples of Hesperia, or the fruite in Paradize: then the gréene Oringes which hanged so long on the Trées, tyll the newe blossome came againe: Then the fruitfull Oliues, which dropped downe from the Trées, he could hardly re­fraine his heart from desiring some of them, nor wyllinglie kept his fingers from plucking. Then might he behold the high Pirenes, and haue the view of those noble Hilles, which séemed to him, as if they touched the Skie, or helde some part of the Heauens vpon their shoulders: then looking downwardes, he might beholde the Riuers, and sée those running streames, the fayrest (by report) in the worlde, and the clearest to looke vpon: All which being viewed at full, and marked to the whole perfection, yéelding not onely a swéete smell, but also the platte for profite, and pleasure most excellent. These heauenly delyghts procéeding out of that earthly Paradize, somewhat refreshed this wandering wayfarer, & made him be a lyttle more pleasantly disposed: And by this time y ^t he had gained, the ful view of y ^e Coūtrey, his limitted tyme was neare expired: he therefore hasted towardes the Sea, and stayed not long by the way, where [Page 70] he remayned but a small time, but that there was a Shippe ready for him to sayle towards his Countrey: and the wind no sooner serued for their expected purpose, but they wayed Ancor, and hoysed vp their sayles: Phemocles had not long bene on Shipboorde, nor sayled many leagues, but he waxed very drowsie, and had a great desire to sléepe, insomuch as he could hardly kéepe his eyes from winking, or holde his head from nodding: by reason wherof, he séemed offended with his owne fancies, as if they had pres [...]aged him some fu­ture mischéefes, not so good as he looked for, and more then he had deserued: he therfore thinking, some thing woulde follow his heauinesse, and some Fortune worse then he ex­pected insue, yéelded him selfe to the lust of his desires, and layde him downe to slumber in safetie. Where he had not lyen long in this troublesome traunce, nor spent (as he thought) aboue two houres in sléeping, but he dreamed, and saw that sight, the straungenesse wherof made him to muse a lyttle, and the rarenes of the matter, made him hope well for a tyme. But then he remembred, that dreames were but fléeing fancies, and who so trusted them, should be deceyued: he thought therfore to let them passe as they came, and to put them as lightly out of his minde, as they came easily in­to his brayne, and the effect was this: Already he thought him selfe arriued at Vienna, and euen at that time newly set on shoare: where passing along the Towne, and going through the stréete, before he came to his Fathers, the people stoode so thicke on bothe sides, as he marueyled what the meaning should be, and preased alwayes thicke, and moe in their places: him selfe as desirous of nouelties as any, and as well content to sée some straunge sight as another, stoode amongst the throng, and stayed with the company: at last he sawe at the farther ende of the stréete, a great number of Preestes, and a rablement of Fryers, a huge company of Munkes, and a merueylous many of the laitie, marching a long, and comming towardes him: some with Tapers, and some with Torches, some with Linkes, & some with lights, some with Candles, and some with Censors: The Préestes [Page 67] approching, & passing by him, they sung those Ceremonies which they vse to the dead: then followed them the auncient olde men, attyred all in blacke: then followed them, a great number of young youthes, bearing gréene Lawrell in one hande, and Palme in the other: then followed them a great number of Souldiors, and men at Armes: the Cors [...]et men, trayling their Pikes after them, and the shot with the noses of their Péeces downwarde: Then after them, the Horsemen attired in masking wise, and euerie man a bro­ken Launce in his hand: Then came the mourning Préests, and singing men all in blacke, and vsing their funerall Dir­ges: then followed a blacke Coffin, and on the toppe ther­of lay a Shéeld, and in it was ingrauen, and curiouslie wrought, Loue, and Loyaltie, the one imbracing the other: and afterward marching hand in hand. Beside them, were as it séemed, two faithfull fréendes, or two vnfayned Lo­uers: the one fained as though he had ben fallen in a swoune, and the other séemed very sorrowfull, and lyfting him vp a­gaine: and a lyttle from, they séemed to walke merrely, and with a swéete countenaunce. After the Coffin, followed young Damselles, & Maydens vnmaried, their heads dec­ked with Flowers, and their bosomes furnished with Nose­gayes, carying gréene boughes in the one hand, and a lyght in the other: Then followed the auncient Matrones, mour­ning, and with Lawnes about their heads: and last of all, the olde Segniors, with whome was Henricus, the Uncle of Narbonus. Phemocles then running to Henricus, demaū ­ded the cause of his mourning, and the meaning of that com­pany? Who aunswered, for his onely fréend, and Nephew, Narbonus: Wherat Phemocles could not refrayne wéeping, nor holde the trickling teares from his moyst chéekes: yet thinking to sée the ende, and to behold him layd in his graue, he followed the company, and went after them into the Church: Where, when they were come, and at the graues side: Phemocles preased close to the Coffin, and stoode hard by the graue: when it was set downe, the Sheelde taken from it, and the cloathes taken from the Chest, the Préestes [Page 68] leauing singing, and the funerall Rites ended, they were putting the Coffin into the ground, and giuing him the last duties of earthly motions: Then there came an olde Wo­man wéeping, and desired she might come to the Coffin, be­fore it was put into the ground, which graunted her, & that she came neare to it: she knéeled downe, & vsed these words. O Narbonus, one of the flowers of Vienna, and one, whom for thy calling was not inferiour to any: howe hard hath Fortune dealt with thée, to take thy life from thée, in y ^e best of thy yéeres? and what meant the Sisters to spyn thy thréed no longer, when the increase of thy body, should augment the name of thy Progeny? and when thy chyldren should longer haue stayed the name of thy house. Behold, how the young men lament, and sée how these Maydens wayle and weepe, because no chyldren are discended from thée: and in that thou neuer knewest the nuptiall Rites. Then looking to one side, and afterward round about her, at last she espied Phemocles, and sawe how he stoode wéeping: then speaking more earnestly then before, and vsing her wordes more fer­uently: behold said she, thy beloued Phemocles, and looke how he lamenteth thy losse, take thy farewell of him, & then de­part so soone as it lyketh thée: behold him I say, ready to goe into the graue with thée, and would be content to accompa­ny thy soule: And with these wordes, the Coffin sodainly o­pened, and he came running foorth, and imbraced him so harde as he had done before, and then he began to make a discourse: But with those imbracinges Phemocles awaked, and had nothing betwéene his armes, but the post of the Ship, then felt he the warme teares on his chéekes, and be­gan to looke on him selfe, musing at the first whether it were true, or that he was beguiled with his fancie: but séeing it to be but a dreame, and a fléeing shaddow, he erected him selfe on his stalking legges, & stoode leaning ouer the Shyps side, but this dreame coulde not out of his remembraunce, nor these thoughts passe from before his face.

The winde was so prosperous, and blew so good a gale, that they quicklie arryued at Vienna, and came to the desi­red [Page 69] Hauen, where he was gladly receyued of his fréendes and curteously entertayned of his Father, who demaunded the cause that he looked so yll, and by what meanes he had lost his good coullour? Who aunswered, that the nature of the Countrey had altred his face, and the contrary dyet lost him his coullour. Then his Father questioned with him of the estate of the Countrey, and of the Kinges Army, the goodly Townes which he had séene, and the fertilitie of the Countrey: who aunswered so directly, and made so prestrict replyes, as his Father perceyued he had not loytred, nor spent his time idlely.

Not long after, his Father was moued to frame a ior­ney to Cullen, and Phemocles must make vp the messe: not onely to sée the Countrey, but also to renew acquaintaunce with some of his fréendes, which he had not séene long be­fore: where he purposed to spend the Summer, and to make his returne towardes Winter: But before he went, he made a feast to his fréendes, and inuited his neyghbours to a bancquet, which he spéedily performed, and the day follo­wing he tooke his iorney: There were certayne of his fréendes accompanied him in this iorney, and other Mer­chauntes, who had businesse to Cullen. Phemocles sawe at the feast, amongst the other good company that were there: a Gentlewoman, the most fayrest as he thought, that euer he sawe in his lyfe, and so beautifull, as he had not séene the lyke before: yet at that time, he not so much marked her, as he after in the time of his trauayle, wore her in his imagi­nation: he had not any conference with her, nor moued her so much as with one question: but in the way he could not put her out of his minde, nor banish her out of his remem­braunce: Falling in talke with one of his Kinsmen, and rea­soning with him of sundry matters: he asked him some que­stions of their curteous company, and so of such a Gentle­woman? Who aunswered, that she was their neyghbours chylde, and her fréendes very hon [...]st, and of good calling. With this report, he set Phemocles in the myre vp to the eares, and in Loue, to the verie crowne of his heade: [Page 66] He was before but touched, but nowe infected: before his loue lay smothering lyke wet strawe, but nowe it burned so bright as a bauen: who still imagined, that time would feare away these fancies, and the distaunce of his iourney put her out of his minde, but he blew the coales, and kindled the fire him selfe: and thinking by lyttle, and so more to put out that blaze, he encreased the flame, that it burnt out: for al­wayes when they came to their Innes, and alighted at their resting places, he went to his solitary Chamber, and vsed no other place of solace, musing on his malicious Fortune, and blaming his aduerse happe: that first he was depriued of his faithfull fréend, and nowe had séene her for whome he was thus sorrowfull: alwaies imagining, that had he but spoken, he had bene sufficiently satisfied: and had he but moued the matter, his desire had bene the lesse: He neuer could rest, these thoughts so troubled him, nor neuer stayed any where, but so he was assayled. After this long trauayle, they arri­ued at Cullen, where they spent some dayes in viewing the Towne, and afterwardes departed to the ende of their ior­ney, which was about fiftéene leagues farther, or a lyttle more: Where at their arriuall, they were very well enter­tayned. Phemocles could not sufficiently recreate him selfe, with all the fine daynties they had, nor well be content with the greatnesse of their cheare: for that dainty dysh was farre off, which he fed on, and that pleasaunt mor [...]ell some thing out of his reach: Thus houered he like a Hauke, betwéene Heauen & Earth: neuer so high as the one, nor at any tyme so lowe as the other: or lyke to the sheaues in time of Har­uest, tumbled vp & downe with a whirle winde, neuer stay at one place, but are remoued still to an other: or as the leaues that fall from the Trees, are caried first into one corner, and then remoued into an other. In lyke manner [...]litted the fancie of Phemocles, and so wandred his minde a­bout, neuer thinking to dispayre, and yet he could not per­swade himselfe of gayning his desire, in getting the good will of his swéete Saint, and finding her fauourable, whome he honoured aboue all other thinges: thus he houered in hope, [Page 71] and yet doubted dispaire: Spending thus the time of his a­bode, and wearing out the tract of his absence: he alwayes vnder some coulored pretence repaired to his Chamber, and vnder the cloake of his collusiō, he remained thus in his co­gitation: yet not knowen to any, nor apparant to one: for all that he was watched by some, and marked by others: for he was busied with some Booke, though his minde were not there: and wryting some tryfle, though his heart was farre of: and though he helde a Booke in one hand, yet with the o­ther, he would wyllingly haue helde a Candle to y ^e shryne of his Mistresse: and if his lyps mumbled these wordes, and then stayed at that letter, yet his imagination was how to compasse his desired wish, and his thought how to obtayne his will: and if his tongue bewrayed him to be at Euensong, yet in minde he was scarce at Morrowmasse: worne with musing, and pined with the prolonging of his penaunce, his trauayle séemed so tedious, and the time so troublesome, as he hasted more then was néedefull, vnlesse he had come a lyttle sooner. The best part of Summer was spent, and the time grew néere his departure: he therfore tooke leaue of his Kinsmen, and gaue them many thankes for their great curtesies. Phemocles séemed well contented with this, and was verie ioyfull of his going homewarde, and I trust he spared not his Bootes, neyther left his spurres vnoccupied: his Horse curssed his Maister, and the Hostler wyshed him hanged that rode on that Horse: Nowe he that was before so giuen to Malancholie, turned the innerside of his Cappe outwarde, and could sing with the most in myrth, or beare a part with the best in melody: who more glad, or who more ioyfull? who more pleasaunt, or who better disposed? feeding his fancies with hope, and drinking the drammes of his de­lyghts: Who marched not now vnder the bāner of Venus, and who bare not a Standerd with him, was no Souldior, nor worthy any pay: Thus he manaced in myrth, and roade in the remembrance of his swéete Mistresse, tyll they aligh­ted at Vienna, & came to the place of him long desired: Now deuising the meanes to speake with her, and practising how [Page 72] to haue any talke with her, often passing along vnder her windowe, and walked by the Porche, where he imagined she should syt. Not long after, as he passed along that way, and vsed his accustomed walkes: there came foorth a ser­uaunt, who went into the Towne about some businesse, of whome he asked whose house that same was, and then his Maisters name, styll walking along with him: then he asked if he had neuer a Sonne, nor euer had any daugh­ter?

Yes replyed he, the more his sorrowe, and the greater his gréefe: A sonne he hath, a young youth, wise▪ and well learned, honest, and well beloued of all that knowe him: he hath a Daughter besides, of beauty verie fayre, and for making excellent: for qualities inferiour to few, and for behauiour, not any that hath better: and were her good happe correspondent to her vertuous education, her pre­ferment might haue bene passing good, where now it is excellent yll. You shall vnderstande, that she is married to a young Merchaunt, who is not so good a husbande as he might be, nor so much for his owne commoditie, as for others disprofite: He had left him by his Father, some possessions, and Landes sufficient to mayntaine his estate: which were all mortgaged before his mariage, and turned out vnknowen to my Maister, and his Wife suspecting no such matter: and now he is gone, his departure not known to any, nor manifested to none, when will be his returne, by reason wherof, she conceyueth such inwarde gréefe, as my Maister doubteth much of her health.

Phemocles thanked the seruaunt for his curtesie, and bade him farewell: Then returned he home, not verie well pleased, but verie sorrowfull for the yll successe of his swéete Mystresse, and more sorie, because he knewe not howe to redresse her yll happe: but most discontented with himselfe, and angred throughlie, for that he bestowed his lyking vpon one who was already spedde, and loued her that was before maried: But seeing the Fishe already taken, that he cast [Page 73] his Nette for, determyned to bestowe his bayte else where: thus was his expectation made frustrate, and his spéedy posting turned to a short bayte: But séeing his Mystresse wedded, and him selfe besyde the Saddle, mynded not to eate all his breade in Vienna: nor to sing Masse, but in one Churche: not to sléepe euerie day in a Truncke with Clearchus: nor to catche Flyes once a day, with Domician: not to dwell alwayes in a Tubbe, with Diogenes: nor to taste nothing but Honny, with the Prophete: As he had learned some knowledge, so meant he to be a lyttle better experienced: and in that he had framed two voyages so vnprofitable, he thought to trye if the thirde would be better, or more gratefull: Finding his Father at so conuenient leysure, as he long looked for, and watched that tyme long of him expected, he mooued him with many matters, and then of his owne estate, saying.

Syr, he that séeketh, findeth: and he that trauayleth, his labour will some way be requited: alwayes tarie at home, and euermore a woodcocke: he that alwayes pleadeth with iust Euidence, is in possibilytie to obtayne his sute: but who so holdeth his tongue, what néedeth the Defendaunt any farther tryall? The Merchaunt must make his Marte, before hée knowe his gayne: and the Captayne fight, before he come to the spoyle: and the Scholler procéede Batcheler, before hée come to be a Doctour. I haue trauayled twyce, and framed two Uoyages, the one vnpleasaunt, and the other vnprofytable: If I make the thirde, it wyll I thinke be better, for that it can not well be worse: You sée syr, that tyme taryeth not long, and my youth waxeth nowe rype, and nowe is my memorie moste perfecte, and my wytte at the best, and nowe shoulde it be watered with the dewe of vnderstanding, and moysted with the lycquor of lyfe: which is, to gayne so much knowledge, as our terrestriall nature is able to conceyue, and to obtayne those heauenlie [Page 74] motions, which this earthly Pilgrimage dooth yéelde vnto vs: the greatest saylers to séeke in some Seas, and the grea­test trauayler, in some Countreyes vnknowen: the greatest Wryter neuer read all Authors, but he that hath most, may be better stored: Must not the Trée be graffed, ere the fruit be good: and the Uine be kept cut, or the Grapes wyll growe wylde: the Oyle must be kept close, or it will stinke: and the best wits delighted with new thinges, or the olde will grow out of vse. And in my iudgement, a man were better be vn­borne, then liue vntaught: vnbred, then vnmannered: not begotten, then without behauiour: Yet I thinke my be­hauiour not so simple, but sufficiently to serue where there is no better in place: but yet not so much, but were it aug­mented, my state were the better, & my rude manners more commendable: for good education, is so necessary as ryches: and good nurture so commendable, as large possessions: Ly­keth it therfore your fatherly affection, to giue your graunt, and cast your consent, for to doo contrary to your instructi­ons, and to seeme disobedient in the duty I owe you, I wysh not longer to prosper, or afterwarde to lyue. Pleaseth you therfore, to preferre me to some noble man, I would gladly (you wylling) there to spende a yeere in seruice, to learne somwhat, and to increase my profit.

His Father hearing his request, & not finding it any way blame worthy: for that it is giuen to all youthes to spende some tyme that way, and very profitable it is for their bet­ter education: made him this aunswer, and replyed as fol­loweth.

Sonne Phemocles, the Hawke cannot soare abroade, till her fethers are full come home: and the Child must be stayed before he goe by him selfe: the Coult sadled, before he be trauayled: and the Dogge cast into the ryuer, or he learne to swymme: A Man must learne the Lawe, before he come to giue Iudgement, and your selfe must be learned, before you teach others. For as euerie Trée hath a time to growe, and euerie strength a season to increase: euerie wytte must be wrested, before it be perfect: and euerie action allowed, [Page 75] before it be tollerable. So Phemocles, more to day then yesterday, and wyser hereafter, then witty now: the grasse groweth, but who séeth it? and the Dyall goeth forwarde, but who perceyueth it? the Sunne procéedeth in degrées, but who perceyueth her mouing? so thy wisdome increa­seth by small quantities, but who knoweth it but thy selfe: And for y ^t thou thinkest seruice so profitable for thy estate? as I sée not howe it should be preiudiciall: the strength of thy knowledge thereby, likely to increase, and thy vnder­standing to be augmented for thy profite: my deniall shall not bréede thy decay, nor my staying hynder thy furthe­raunce: I knowe Virgill could not versifie, before he could speake Latin perfectlie: nor Tullie write so swéetly, but he had a trusty Tutor: Augustine, not diuine so Clarklyke, but brought vnto it by his Bookes: and Ptolomy not cast his Earde, but he first knew his Compasse: Thy behauiour can not nowe be so good, as in time it may be: nor thy iudge­ment so great, but hereafter it will be more: But thou must thinke that seruice is no heritage: and the life of a Seruing man, not many degrées aboue the lyfe of a seruile bondman. I thinke thou art not ignoraunt of the shyftes of Seruice, nor greatly to séeke in their crafty collusions: their wages are but small, and their wasting great: their profite but lyttle, their payne rewarded but simply: their dillygence much, and rewarded but slenderly: their brauery passeth▪ & their payment but poore: they alwayes are néedy, though styll sparing: spend much, and haue but lyttle: and he that can not shyft and sweare, alwayes wanteth, and is euer bare: But yet some honestly disposed, and verie well giuen, wyse and sober, discrete and learned: some good, and some badde: But the greatest sort, follow the lewdest way, and the others so ydle, and so vnhonest, so slauish, and so slouth­full, that he which hath practised it a whyle, maketh it for euer an occupation: Therfore I admonish you not to be lauish of your purse, but lyberall of your curtesie: you haue daylie examples of young Gentlemen, that spend their ly­uinges, waste their reuenewes, and sell their Landes, [Page 76] to mayntaine their brauerie: to royst it with the grea­test Ruflers, and to sweare, with the stoutest swearers: to bragge of their beastlynesse, and to boast of their man­hoodde: You shall finde such companions for dycing, and such fellowes for gaming, as be you not warie, your Purse will be p [...]nnylesse, and your money gone to make a newe Marte: but I knowe that you can not playe, the more for your profite, nor sweare, the more for your safegarde: He that vseth one, is lykelie to dye a begger, and he that delyghteth the other, the curse of God wyll ne­uer depart from him.

And vppon this condicion, I graunt you my good wyll, that you spende not abooue one yéere, and then make your re­turne. And for that you are ignoraunt, where to place your selfe, and howe to be preferred, I will speake to a fréende of mine in the Palsegraues Court: whom, I know wyll not deny this small request, but further you to the vttermost of his power: And I am the better content, for that he is a wise Prince, vertuous, and godly disposed, where you must vse such dillygence, as you may be lyked, and behaue your selfe in that order, as you may be loued. For I thinke: he that deserueth well, shall be sufficientlye recompenced, and who meryteth nothing, is vnworthy of any thing: meane whyle prepare your selfe, and make rea­dy such necessaries as are wanting.

This their purpose tooke so good successe, and went so effectually forewarde, as there passed no long tyme be­fore the Father of Phemocles mette with this his fréende in Vienna, who came to dispatche certayne businesse, for the Duke his Maister, who no sooner moued the matter, but assuraunce was made of his entertainement, and shortlie after Phemocles was sent for, who departed strayght to the Court: then he tooke his dutyfull leaue of his Father, and craued his obedient blessinges, who wyllinglie gaue him his request, and wylled him to be myndfull of that which hee before had tolde him, and [Page 77] bade hym make so shorte returne as he had promy­sed.

Phemocles departed to the Palsegraue of the Rheine his Court, where he was verie well entertayned, and bet­ter welcome then he looked for: where he behaued him selfe so well, and vsed his matters so honestlie▪ as hée gayned not onely the good wylles of the common sort, but also hée wonne the heartes of his Superiors, to lyke and loue him: where, let him enioy what plea­sure he may, and obtayne all the delightes his heart de­syreth.

NArbonus had continued a season at the Emperours Court, and worne away the best parte of a yéere, with­out any profite to him selfe, or possibilitie to gette any for his fréendes. He sawe the brauerie of that noble Court, and viewed at full, the lyues of the Courtiers: and I trust, had his Purse bene answerable to his noble minde, none should excéeded him in braue apparell, nor any gone beyonde him, in setting foorth of his beautie:

He that was of late so carefull a Souldiour, is nowe growen a statelie Courtier: and he that not long since, pyned in perplexitie, begynneth nowe to excéede in braue­rie: and that body that of late bare so poore a pore, hath nowe forsaken his seruilitie, and is wedded to awayte on fréendlie felycitie: Of late drowned in dispayre, nowe standing alofte in disdayne: not long sithence, sub­iect to all corasiues and cares, nowe marcheth in the féelde of Fortune, holding out his Flagge of defiaunce, against all daungerous demeanes: who of late was at Deathes doore, and ready to goe to the Graue, is nowe in prowde Paradize, walking amongst the swéete shades of securitie.

O Narbonus, hast thou so soone forgotten thy myserie, and already put in obliuion thy perplexitie, that thou begin­nest to wallowe in the myre of thy minde, and to tumble in the dyrt of thy desires? Hast thou so soone forgotten [Page 78] thy pyninges and sharpe showers, that thou flatterest thy selfe, this thy pride wyll neuer be troden downe: hath the procuring of thy felicitie, béene the occasion of the léesing thy honestie? Esopes Snake, that was layde by the fyre, stung the man for his paynes: and after this lyfe, thou goest the way to infect thy Uncle against thy folly: The Trée that bloweth fayre at the first, may so be blasted, that it neuer beare Apple, and thou that findest so swéete a shewe in thy Uncles house, wylt léese thy credite in thy Maisters seruice: Hast thou touched Pitche, that thou must néedes be defyled: or eaten poyson, that thou art so infected? thou suckest hurt, where thou shouldest gather hony. And because there are Frogges in the water, canst thou therfore finde no fish? the Cherrie is ripe, before it be rotten: but thou art brused before thou art ready to gather. Remember Narbonus, that when the Trée is at the best, it will growe to nothing againe, and when thy brauerie is at the best, thou shalt sinke for shame: The Infant learneth to créepe, and then afterwarde to goe: but thou goest so fast in the beginning, as shortly thou wylt neither stande nor styrre. But happely thou wylt reply: the Court bounseth in brauerie, and why should not I be painted with Pride? Because there are some Ruffians, thou must be a Royster: and because some are wicked, thou must be mischéeuous: because they swymme in sinne, thou wylt be drowned in thy desires: And because Cayne slue Abell, thou wylt be Saule and kyll Dauid: be­cause Tarquin was proude, thou wylt be Prodigall: and because Iudas was a Traytor, thou wylt be rebellious. No, better for thée to leaue the Court, and followe the Cart, then to forsake thy substance, & forgoe thy fréends. Dooth not the Ryuer Nile, yéeld Golde in the bottome, and bring foorth Crocodiles in the bancke? Dooth not the best ground aswell yéelde Thistles to pricke, as giue Corne to sustayne? Hath not the Holme trée pricking leaues, as berries for Byrdes? Because the Court is curious, must thou be lasciuious? thou séest the lyttle Mouse eateth the flower, but leaueth the huske: and dooth not the Woorme eate the curnell, and [Page 79] leaue the shell: the Caterpyller deuowreth the fruite, but toucheth not the leaues, and the Weasell sucketh vp the yolkes, but leaueth the shelles. Because the Court is gi­uen to pleasure, must thou therfore be vnthryftie? thou knowest the Emperour is good, can his Lawes then be e­uyll? But thou wylt say, his Lawes are good, but the Iudges are not righteous: the house is well gouerned, yet there are euyll Officers. Hath not the cleanest house, some Spyders? and the fayrest Well, some Frogges? the goodliest blowen Trée, some blastes: and the best Corne, some Poppey: the finest Flower, some faulte, and the fayrest Garden, some Nettles? And in what place will the Serpent lurk, but in the gréene grasse? and where will the Snake make her nest, but in the rytchest dunge?

O Narbonus, art thou a Scholler, and neuer learnedst law poyntes? and art thou a Diuine, and neuer studyedst Am­brose? a Philosopher, and neuer dydst looke ouer Aristotle? a Poet, and knowest not Ouid? an Astronomer, and hast not Ptolomies Globe? a Poticarie without Drugges, and a Phisition without an Herball? Looke once agayne in the Glasse, and thou shalt sée a spotte in thy face: beholde well thy body, and thou shalt sée it infected, and searche thy minde, and tell me if it lacke not amendment. Yes trust me, thy body lackes a Purgation for thy Pride, so would thy soule be cleane for thy God. Art thou nowe on thy Pantaffles, that of late haddest no Shooes? now pounced, that late wast naked: and now bragging in thy brauery, that late wast subiect to pouertie? the Glasse is set so high, tyll it be cracked with a fall, the Cocke boate tosseth so long in the wyde Sea, tyll she be drowned: and the Foxe commeth so often to the Henues, that he is taken with Dogges. Knowest thou not that the simple [...]hrubbe, is in better safe­garde from the winde and weather, then the highe Cedar trée? And the stone that lyeth on the grounde, can goe no lower, but the bricke on the house toppe, is often cast downe and broken: Is not the Shéepheardes cottage in more safe­tie, [Page 80] then the statelie Tower? and is not the fatte Horse sooner spoyled, then the leane Iade, and the simple sotte tar­ryeth styll at home, when the lustie youth leaueth his lyfe in the warres? Is not the meane merriest? why then [...]ryuest thou to excéede? and is not the lowe estate surest? why then prouest thou to excell? And goeth not the Shippe surest in the narrowe Riuers? why then rowest thou beyond thy reache? Dooth not the subiect lyue more quietly then the King? why then wouldest thou be a Lorde? Remember that thou seruest in the Court, and not walkest the stréetes in Vienna: that there are here moe Cosins then Kinsmen, and moe louers for lucre, then fréendes in whome thou mayst repose thy fayth: moe Countreymen, then acquayn­taunce, and yet better knowen then trusted: Were thou as wyse as Themistocles, there are here wyll excell thée: and haddest y ^• the experience of Phillip, yet shouldest thou be to séeke for thy safetie: Haddest thou the sprite of C [...]us, there are here would counteruayle thée: and were thou as boulde as Brisaidas, thou shouldest be out bydden: Haddest thou the tongue of Pericles, here are those that would outreach thée: haddest thou the Lute of Paris, yet some that woulde passe thée, and the Speare of Achilles, yet thy strength were to weake. Howe then canst thou blame the Court, and excuse thy selfe? and howe canst thou reproue their vices, and not condemne thy owne faultes? and how canst thou paynt out their pride, and not shewe thy owne wickednesse? The Spi­der and the Bée, come bothe to one flower, the one sucketh poyson, and the other gathereth Honny: Dooth not the Ad­der drinke, where the Coult sippeth? bothe satisfied, but not bothe hurtfull: And dooth not the Adder ingender with the Lampray, the one poyson, and the other a dayntie dishe: Is there not as well Susanna, as Iesabell? and as well Aaron, as Pharao? as well Apollo, as Pan? and as well Salom [...]n, as Midas? Thou art to take thy choyce, and none to hynder thée: if then thou doo not well, whome canst thou blame but thy selfe? There is both Iustice and Iudgement, leaue the one, and escape the other: bothe honesty and hatred, if thou [Page 81] be infected with the one, thou art frée from the other: bothe fréendshippe, and falsehood, and he that loueth the one, shall hardlie gayne the other. The next way for a man to be lo­ued, is to follow that thing, which is vsed amongst the grea­test number: but hee that is ledde with euerie facion, and won with euerie winde, shall neuer be loued with the most, nor lyked of the least: Wordes prouooke a man to anger, but they drawe no blood: and who so cannot beare a worde, must not lyue in a common wealth: The little Playsse, liueth by the Whale, and the Lambe by the Lyon, the Ape by the E­lephant, and the Kydde by the Tiger: euerie man may lyue by his Superiours, behauing him selfe as an Inferiour: as the olde saying is: The Catte liueth by the King, & a Prin­ces wyll is nothing woorth, without the consent of his sub­iects: Hath not the woorme as well her hole, as the Foxe his burrowe? the Moule her hyll, so well as the Lyon her den? and the Hen her roust, so well as the Phesant her perch? and the Birde her nest, so wel as the Hauke her Mue? But who loueth not to clime higher, and who more often falleth? The Court is curious, and I careles: one catcheth a fléece, and another findeth a farewell: one gapeth after gayne, and another péereth after pleasure: one after pride, and ano­ther after paltrie: one after rytches, and another after ry­otousnes: As for my selfe, I haue béene infected, but wil not be defyled, tasted with the touch, but not tried to the lacke: searched to the vttermost, but not founde giltie at al: though I ran like a coult, yet now so ientle as a lambe, and though so wylde as a Bucke, yet now so tame as a Dogge: and though so hungrie as a Tyger, yet now gorged so full as a Hauke: and though praying vpon euery carion, yet now so choyce as may: bee though won to euery lust, yet now wed­ded to none in lyking: and though pind to euery sléeue, yet now not paynted to the picture of any. My Lorde and mai­ster looketh for much seruice, & expecteth great diligence, & though I please him not w ^t the one, I trouble him not with y ^e other: he speaketh faire, & promiseth much, but performeth [Page 82] lyttle, and warranteth lesse: if dilligent aboue measure, I gayne sometimes a good countenaunce at his pleasure: if neuer so lyttle dislyked, then enuied, and hated: watch late, and ryse early, but neyther recompensed, nor gratified: ryde, and runne at euerie call, and so lyghtly recompensed, oftentymes, iust nothing at all: we wayte, and gape to sée howe they féede, and sometymes we catche somewhat, but more often goe hungrie to bedde: the best that I [...]ée, is Wine at wyll, and who so drinketh best, hath the better bargaine: our gyftes are small, and our wages lesse, we can neyther liue of the one, nor make our selues rytch with the other. Lesse I spent, when I remayned in Vienna, lyttle doo I profite, and more consume here at the Court: as good catche flyes all day, or lye in a Tubbe, as loyter away my time, and be as a Droane amongst Bées: an vnprofita­ble seruaunt, neither beneficiall to his Maister, nor commo­dious for his owne vtilitie.

The youthes that accompanied Narbonus, were more giuen to prodigalitie, then myndfull of their honest demea­nour: allured him to lyke that he loathed, and to imbrace that which he detested: his fellow seruauntes, in his Lord and maisters seruice, more regarded his lyberalitie, then wayed the depth of his honestie: yet he was beloued of the most, and hated of few. But Fortune, who was neuer fa­uourable vnto him, stoode now as contrarie to his purpose, and as vnhappy for his health: for doo he what was possible to be done, and séeke all the meanes he could deuise, neither could he please his Lorde, nor lyke his Lady: his dilligence as much as might be, yet his rewardes so simple as could be: his payne vnpleasaunt, and his profite nothing woorth: his trauayle troublesome, and his toyle not regarded: his seruice comparable to the best, yet none of his fel­lowes lesse regarded: his expences so lyttle as might be, and yet his Purse alwayes emptie: his charge that he tooke on him was troublesome, and prospered so yll as a man could deuise. Which perceyuing euerie thing fall out so [Page 83] contrarie, and any thing not to be lyke [...], dyd he neuer so well, and nothing dislyked of others, were it [...] so yll: Finding tyme and place, he [...]nfolded his [...] and vttred his inwarde [...], as followeth. The Ore yoaked all the day in the Carte, eateth his meate, and sleepeth quietly at night: his Maister though he toyle in his owne trauayle, yet is he [...]erry in his owne house, the Gardner and the Hedger, the Haruester, and the Plan­ter, though they abyde the trauayle of the day, yet at night they are glad, & make good chéere. But we Courtyers must wayte all day, and watche all night, runne all the day, and yet not rest at night: teare the day in trauayle, and spend the night in some paltrie: ryse with the first, & rest with the last: who lyues so miserably and yet who so myserly? who more braue, and yet who more beastlie? who more dayntie, and yet who more diuelli [...]? who more curious, and yet who more carelesse? who more giuen to vanitie, yet who more desires great gloue? Alas, is this the brauerie of the Court? nay, is it not the mirrour of filthinesse? Are these the fruites of felicitie? nay, are they not the séedes of [...]? Is this the good and honest lyfe? nay, is it not the wicked and mischée­uous lust? Is the Court a place of pleasure? nay, is it not the garden of gréefe? a plotte of repentaunce, rather then a platforme of patience, and a Sea of securitie, rather then a chest of chastitie? the Trée is knowen by his fruite, and the Fowle by her fether, a man by his manners, and a knaue by his condicions: a Courtier by his coyne, and a varlet by his vanitie: the greatest gayne is gréefe, and the rytchest rewarde, but a simple share: Mischéeuous are the imaginations, and wicked the wyles, vnprofitable the paine and vnfruitfull the gayne: If the imaginations be not good, can the protence be honest? if the wyles be wicked, must not the dealinges séeme diuellish? If Fortune be fauourable, what hope is there of felicitie? if the payne be vnprofitable, who will weaue his owne destructiō? If their gaine vnfruit­full? who will gape for flyes, and trauayle without reward, [Page 84] for his labour, the best is no better, and the worst [...]nlykelys to be amended: A man must héere, either beare two faces in one hood, or be made with one face so subtill as a théefe, hold with the Hare and hunt with the Hound: flatter the most, but soothe all: hée that cannot dissemble, must not dwell a­mongst Diuels, and hée that cannot lye, not liue amongst loyterers: hée that cannot halt, not goe before criples, and hée that cannot hée lame, not come amongst beggers: Why then stay I in the Court, and not goe to Vienna? why goe I not to my Unckles to bée lyked and loued, rather then stay héere, to bée lothed and hated? why séeke I not to please hym and profit my selfe, but staying [...] héere displeasure my selfe, and offende hym? why walke I not the streetes to confer with straungers, but spend héere my time with brab­lers, and brawlers? why talke I not with trauailers, of the estate of other Countries, but stayinge héere, is neyther profit to others nor pleasure to my selfe? But what wyll my Unckle think? that so soone I forsake the Court? nay, what wyll hée thinke mée in spending my tyme so yll, some fault hée will thinke is committed, that I returne so shortly? nay, an Asse hée will thinke mée, for wearing away my time so loyteringly: But stayinge héere, in time more profite may grow: but in time that litle that is left may be spent, and then away with the begger: But the Ship must stay for the tide, rather then time tarr [...] for hy [...] that vseth it: but in stai­ing so long, my Ship wyll boe vnfraughted, and then who wyll fill her as before? Hée that hopeth wel, shall haue well, and hée that dreadeth no daunger, dooth oftenest escape: but hee that hath, and hopeth for more, may liue by the losse, and repent to late for his profit: But can the net be filled so soone as it is throwne in the water, [...] the Grape gathered so soone as it is touched? but hée y ^• fishe thin a shallow riuer, shall fyll his Net with Fr [...]gs, and hée that gathereth Grapes with one fynger, shal neuer fyll his Basket: But the Hus­bandman tarieth the riping of the Corne, and the grafter [Page 85] the growing of his trées: but he that soweth amongst stones is lyke to [...]eape but Thistles, and he that setteth Trées in the Sea, may stay so lo [...]g as he liue without fruit: But the Mint maister hath his Siluer fyrst melted, and then he fa­cioneth it with some portrature: but he that hath his mine yet to fynd, may hold his hammer long in his hand, before he strick euer a stroke: But the Marchant must haue his ship ready, before he crosse the seas to make his mart [...] ind [...]de, hée must haue his ship, but he must fyrst haue mony, and he that hath the one may haue the other when it liketh him: But he that buildes a house must tarry till summer, otherwise the frost wyl spoyle his work begun: but he that staieth so long may let out his mony in other matters, or happely spend it in y ^e same time: But no doubt, Narbonus, in time the wind will turne to thine aduauntage, though as yet thou striue against the Streme: but better it is to cut the fléece in sum­mer, then tary tyl winter, and léese all the wol: But if hap­pely thou [...]orsake the Court, how wylt thou then spende thy dayes? that is a Drone and no Bée that cannot gather hony to féede her selfe, and he an idle seruaunt that can worke no way for his lyuing: But staying w ^t thy Unckle, thou maist at some one time or other purchace his displeasure, then the which there is nothing more preiudicial? nay rathe [...] staying with him (in tyme) I may win him to my wyll, then the which there is no one thing more ben [...]ficiall: Why then Narbonus perswade thy selfe, and forsake the Court, for héere then spendest thy tune, and there thou mayst reape some commoditie: héere thou hast a loytering lyfe, and there thou may [...]st be busied to thy profit: héere thou sowest the séedes of thy vnthriftinesse, and there thou mayst [...]eape the fruites of thy felicitie: héere thou graftest trées, that wyll yéeld but Crabs, there thou mayst leaue the [...]histles, and gather Grapes for thy gayne: héere thou fishest▪ and canst finde but Frogs, but there thou mayst fyll thy angling hooks w ^t red ruddocks. But how shal I gain my Lords good wil to leaue [Page 86] his seruice: such a small reque [...]t if he deny me, he woulde hardly graunt me a greater matter: The inditour deserueth good will for his Booke, be it neuer so [...]mple, and I meriter, fauour for my seruice, had it not bene so curious: The labou­rer hath wages for his worke, be it neuer so small, and I deserue freendshippe for my dilligence, had it bene lesse then it was: The offendant craueth but pardon for his offence, and I craue but pardon for my hones [...] b [...]hauio [...]: then per­swade with thy selfe, he will [...] thy request, being so reasonable, I deserue no lesse, my seruice hath bene so effec­tuall.

Upon this determinatio [...], he departed to his Maisters Chamber, thinking to awayte some time to vnfoulde his minde, and to make manifest the inwarde motions of his heart: But his long lurking could not attaine the cause of his comming, nor his hasty spéeding obtayne his purpose, as him selfe wyshed: he was therfore forced to finde some other tyme more fitte, and to spye some other place more conuenient: Shortly after, being merely disposed amongst his fellowes, imagining no such matter, and doubting no daunger, a messenger came from his Lord, with more speéde then profit, to aunswer, and obey what he would say vnto him: who was not more ready then wylling, for that he thought bothe to aunswer, & demaund: replie, and request: dutifully to vse obedience, in what he should cōmaund him, and fauourably to craue pardon for his departure: but the Potte was at his nose before he looked for it; and his mai­ster made the motion, before he expected it: who came into the Chamber and dyd his dutifull obedience, expecting what seruice his Lord would c [...]mau [...]d him: who espying Nar­bonus come into the Chamber▪ wylled him to come néere him, and then spake as f [...]lloweth.

Narbonus, thou séest the charge I am troubled with, and the great company I retaine, the cost that is vsed in keeping the Court, and the expences that aryse without any com­minges in, the furniture of my Horsses, and the Armour of [Page 87] my men: the one maketh mée a nyggard of my pursse, be­cause I haue it not faster then I spe [...]nde it, and the other a churle of my lyberalitie, for that I cannot geue as I would. As thou hast béene dutifull, so may I do thée pleasure, thou shalt not be frustrate of thy purpose: and as thy loyaltie with honestie hath gayned good wyll, so shall not I bee found vngratefull to repay thée with profit, in any thinge whatsoeuer, the preiudicialitie of my estate excepted. Thou hast spent a yeare in seruice, and hast gained thée so much the more knowledge: to tarryed with thy Unckle, thy wit would béene weryed, where now thy behauiour is answea­rable any, or inferiour to none: Hadst thou not come to the Court, thou hadst wanted this wisdome, and in séeing these sleights that are vsed, thou wylt bee more wary at thy re­turne home. Thy profit (indéede) might haue bene more, and thy pleasure lesse painfull: but héere thou hast conceiued more vnderstandinge, and learned to holde fast when thou hast it: And though thy yeares are younge, yet thy experi­ence is proued: thy head vnstayed, yet thy knowledge suffi­cient: thy nurture good, and thy grauitie better: In spending thy time longer thou shalt profit litle, and thinking to win much, mayst héere léese all: He that studieth any language, when hée hath learned it, forgetteth it not agayne. Thou hast learned the lyfe of a Courtier, and what wouldest thou more? The Coult once broken, is put into the Stable: and thy affections brydled, thou must kéepe them vnder. The Booke read ouer is layd vp agayne in the studie: Thou hast bought thy learning, and now maist vse it as thou lust. The fruite rype, is gathered and layde vp to bée eaten: Thou hast reaped the knowledge of courtinge, kéepe it therefore tyll thou néede it: If thou haue profited with thy pleasure, thy payne hath béene well imployed: And if thy gayne haue beene good? I reioyce at thy fortune: If thy fauour haue beene friendlye, I am glad of thy felicitie, and if in profy­tinge thy selfe, thou haue not hyndered my honour: Thy welfare is wished, as thou wouldst desyre, and nothing con­trarie [Page 88] my minde: When the Grape is ripe, it is gathe­red for the presse: when the Apple is ready to fall from the Trée, it is plucked downe to make Cyder. Now thou hast learned what thou mayst, & gayned the full perfection of thy pre [...]: The Frost is not harde tyll morning, & the Figge not rype tyll it be gathered: the Cherrie not rype, tyll it be softe, and no sooner rype, but straight rotten: And when any thing is at the best, it decreaseth againe: But thou wylt aunswere mée, the longer a man liueth, the wyser he is. I replie, that experience, maketh perfectnesse: but he that is a foole at thy yéeres, will neuer be wyse, whylst he lyueth: Doost thou not see the young Trée hath more plen­tie of lycquor, then the olde Stocke of iuyce? and is not the gréene grasse swéeter, then the olde hey? and the young Calfe more tender, then the olde Oxe is toathsome? Dooth not strength decrease, as Nature decayeth? and as Nature wareth féeble? dooth not the Witte growe faint? Euery Trée hath his tyme, and euerie séede his season: euerie grafte their growing, and euerie grayne the sowing: euerie Childe the nourishing, and euerie wytte the tyme of perfection: The Golde is earth in the Myne, before it be purified, and the Siluer maketh no shewe, before it be tryed from the sande: The Orrenge not beautifull, before it be ripe: and the knowledge of a man, nothing before it come to the ful­nesse. Is not the Ceder trée, more goodly to beholde, then the Uine that runneth along vpon the grounde? and is not the Popler, more liuelie to looke on then the Figge? Is not the Leoparde, a more goodlie Beast in syght, then the lyttle Lambe? yet the beautie of the one, nothing e­quall to the vertue of the other: the heyght of the one, infe­riour to the fruite of the other: and the shewe of the one, not like the sauour of the other. If then in thinges that make no outwarde shewe, there be hydden such inwarde vertue: howe much more is that commendable in him, who beareth a fayre face, and is endued with honest condici­ons? But who amongst the Romaines, was more eloquent, [Page 89] then Cicero? yet who more fearefull to vtter his minde? and who more bolde then Crassus, and yet who more crosse in aunswering frowardlie? Was not Agamemnon, a wyse Prince, yet counselled by Nestor? and who more vali­aunt then Anthony, yet ruled by Lepidus. If the excel­lencie of the greatest personages, were subiect in wytte, to their Inferiours? and if the wisest sought counsell? the bouldest were broade mouthed? and the most eloquent, fear­full to speake? who lyueth, but lacketh, and who hath so much, but may haue more? For to sowe the séede of thy youth in the Court, thou art like in age to reape but payne and trauayle. And for that I know thou wilt not alwayes be a Courtier, nor euermore a Seruitor: for wouldest thou that way leade thy life, I could say somewhat woorthy thy lyking: Or haddest thou sette downe to spende thy dayes in seruice, I coulde better hereafter satisfie thée, then now make thée aunswer. I know when thou commest to Vienna, thou wilt follow the Merchaunts, the better lyked shalt thou be of others, and the more loued of mee: If thou be ritch in thy young yéeres, thy age is like to be replenished with substaunce: and if well disposed in thy infancie, a signe of honesty in thy gray heaires: if thy Inuentus, shew some wisdome, thy Senectus likelie to be honourable. If the trade of a Merchaunt like thée not, thy busie Bookes will delight thée: tosse them well about, and they will comfort thée in thy heauinesse: tumble them vp and downe, and they shall make thée wiser, and shyne more bright in vertue. Thou wast sometimes a Scholler, the more fyt to be nowe a Studient: thou once begannest the Lawe, the more lykelie nowe to proue a Counsellor: thou wast sometimes earnest at thy studie, why shouldest thou not in time proue a Doctour. Leaue not off at the best, & draw not thy head out of the coller: Now thou hast entred the lystes of learning, let not goe thy holde. Thou marueylest that I tell thée this, yet I knowe it, and not by any but thy fréendes, neyther woulde I vtter it to any thy foes: And in that I tell thée [Page 90] so playnely, it is a signe that I hate thée not: Therefore in my minde to perseuer in thy learning shall bee most for thy profyt, and greatest for thy gaine. Thou knowest hee that beginneth a good woorke, and goeth not forwarde withall, séeketh his owne discōmoditie, & the preferment of no other. The Dogge is made ientle with féedinge, and the Ape kna­uishe being taught: If then these sencelesse things wyl bee made ientle with teaching, and profitable with compulsion, how much more we learne for our owne vtilytie, and ga­ther knowledge for our owne commodytie? Knowledge is the heauenlyest thing in this worlde, and hee that hath wisdome cannot want any good thinge. Whose me­moriall dooth longer endure, whose fame further reach, and whose glory blowne foorth abroade, then the vertues of the wisest, and then their doings put downe in wryting? Dyd not the wisdome of Salomon make a greater shewe, then his riches or braue buildings? Did not the workes of Virgill longer endure, then the Conquests of Caesar last. Great Princes are thought happy, in that they are victori­ous and riche, but vertue shineth when the ritches with the man are buried. The Conquest of Alexander were al lost within a litle time after his death: but the workes of O­vid are fresh and flourish at this day. Diogenes was cal­led a Dogge for barking at the vices that they vsed: But are not his workes now more famous, then his déeds were disdayned: Stilpo saide, he lost nothing, when all his goods were burnt, for that he retayned his vertue and learnyng. The grounde of other matters may in time be attayned, but the depth of wysdome can neuer be reached. All handy labours are wrought by the industrye of man: But the roote of wysdome could neuer by any bee vndermined. Is not learning the flowre of felicitie, and happy is hée that at­tayneth it: For in what doe we excéede the brute beastes, but by those heauenly motions which wee attaine by lear­nynge?

The Slaue is a man, and the simple sot made as wee are, [Page 91] but y ^t their natures are inferiour to our nurture: And were not a man better be vnborne, then vntaught? How doe the degrées of Princes first rise, and howe doe they encrease their dignities, eleuate their houses to the Skies, and theyr fame ouer the world? Is not wisdom the fyrst ground, and then pollicy ensueth? And how shall a man bee wise, if vn­learned? Can Nature of it selfe, yéelde a man that know­ledge, or geue a man wisdome, without learning? Can the vngrafted trée, bringe foorth good fruite? And dooth not the fattest ground, bring foorth Thistles? The better Horse, the more wilde of Nature, and the better wit, the more geuen to vice: for of our selues we are the least, & not so bad as ill disposed. The Elephant, greatest of al fower footed beastes, and who more ferce, or who more stronge? but once reclay­med, so ientle as a Lamb, and so necessary as a Horse: Wyl not the Crab stock be made to bring foorth pleasaunt frute? and the stonie ground be made fertill: The ouerflowinge Riuers be turned to run quietly: and the haggard Haukes manned as they will stoupe at euery lure: The great Oxe wyll be made to take the yoke: but the litle Mouse wyll neuer be made ientle: And the Beare sooner follow a man, then the Fox. The fayre Faulcon will sit ientlye vpon a­mans fist, when the litle Birde wyll bee euer flirtinge. Therefore if my aduice may preuayle, and my iudgement take effect, you shall not loose your learnyng, nor spend your time but in study.

The court, you sée is curious & careles: infected with y ^e one, poysoned with the other: And in dooing mée seruice, you dis­pleasure your selfe: not that I meane any other shoulde re­tayne you, but better then well to spend a mans time none can: you haue gayned for your comminge, and learned for your lyking: and l [...]rger to tarry, shal you do any other but weare away your time? and for my pleasure & preferment, the one is not great, nor the other such as I woulde wish it were: But such as it is, I wil neither be dainty of the one, nor curious of the other, proue it when you lust, & try when [Page 92] you shall: therfore you may depart when you will, and ha­sten to Vienna as you shall thinke good: and the more haste­lie you prosecute your voyage, the more spéedily shall your comming be thether.

Before he had fully accomplished the ende of his tale, or furnished the perfection of his talke, cited he was by one of his Gentlemen, to repaire to dinner, which taried for his fa­uourable leysure: who so soone as his tale was ended, & those wordes spoken, went his way, and stayed not to heare his reply: Leauing Narbonus hoouering betwéene heauen and earth, as if he could not attayned the one, nor touched the other: standing like one newlie raysed out of the graue, or latelie reuiued out of a swound, wauering which way to take, and wandring which pathe to treade: Who had séene the sayles of a Shippe, wauering with a soft winde, leaning first to one side, & then bending to the other: Or like a shéepe sick of some disease, leaneth first to one side, & then falleth on the other: Or like the méeting of two violēt waters, the one parteth one way, & the other retyreth back againe. So stoode Narbonus, first thinking to take this way, and then thought that other better: If to leaue his Chamber, his Lord might come, & he not there to make aunswer, then to tary & make a reply not looked for, were but a saucie part: Then thinking that to stay there, he might looke long and neuer the better: and if his Lord would haue heard his reply, he would haue leant him the hearing. Going therfore downe to dinner, he met, with some of his fellowes & fréendes, who were more glad of his company, then he willing to stay any longer: the dinner time they passed more honestly, then merely: and yet so well disposed, as the one was not hated, nor the other dis­lyked: where Narbonus vttred at large, the cause of his sen­ding, & the effect of his departure. Whereat, they sorrowfull, beyond measure, but he glad in minde, yet would not vtter it: they fell to intreating him, to make a longer time of his abode, and he as fast perswaded them, not to request a thing so much against his profit: Thē they requested him to spend [Page 93] but one yéere more amongst that honest company. Then he aunswered, that the losse of a yéeres study, was more then the gayne of two yéeres seruice: and to hinder himselfe of the one, he would not abide the brunt of the other. Then they replyed: that (as yet) there was time inough, & so small space would hinder but a lyttle, but his staying might benefit him much: Then he aunswered, that to driue dayes, and make delayes, a man should be farther of in the ende, then he was néere in the beginning. To auoyde which inconuenience, I wil not linger in hope of the one, nor stay, being sure to misse the other. Then an honest Gentleman, and one that loued him déerelie, vsed these wordes to him.

Syr, the Merchaunt maketh his Mart, but how? not in a day, nor in a wéeke: not in a moneth, nor happely in a yéere: he looketh long for his Ship, and stayeth the returne: which once come safe, and arriued sound, the gayne dooth counter­uayle the payne, and the long time of absence make amends with the profite that ensueth.

Indéede syr (replied he) the Merchaunt stayeth the Ex­chaunge, and abydeth the fraughting: but my Shippe, will neyther beare sayle, nor brooke the Seas: therfore, better it is to returne with a lyttle losse, then stay the repenting, and léese bothe Ship and burden.

Then replyed the other, syr Narbonus, seruices are not so swéete, nor Maisters so lauish of their Purse? but they will make a man bake his flower, before he eate any breade, and sowe his séede before he reape any fruite.

Trueth (aunswered Narbonus) if the ground be good, who will not take paines to husbande it well, but being barren & stony, he that stayeth till haruest, shall reape but Thistles, and gather but thornes, for his double dilligence, and pas­sing payne.

Indéede (sayde the other) the ground must be good, and the plotte profitable: but howe shall a man be acquaynted with the one, or haue experience of the other? He must stay [Page 94] the triall, and proue for his profit, and if it be not good for his purpose, nor lykely to yéelde commodytie, help it a litle, and the graine will bée good.

Sir, replyed Narbonus, the best ground is aptest to brynge Thistles, and wyll beare but stronge wéedes, if it bee not wrought to the full, and sowed to the perfection: As for the worst, labour what you can, and your profite shall hardlye counteruaile your trauaile: but it may so happen, that the Sky shall fall, then shall we take Larkes plenty, and other Byrds good store: But a Man shall so soone catch a Hare with a Taber, or gette a Song of a dead man, as reape héere the fruites of felicitie, or gather the pleasure of pro­fyte.

Indéede, replyed the other, the profyt is but small, and the gaine as lytle: but the companye may cause you stay, for that they lyke you, and our fellowship fynde you fauou­rable in that wee loue you, for if wee liked you not, wee woulde not lust after you: and, but that you are in our hartes, wee coulde easely put you out of our mindes. Therefore, séeing (perforce) wee must loose your company, wee wyll of frée wyll retaine your curtesy: which you can­not denye vs, the request being so resonable, but cast your consent, and repay vs with like profit, when we yéelde so to your purpose.

Indéede, aunswered Narbonus, your company shal cause me do much, and your curtesy so great as I know not how to requite it: For, looke by howe mutch the more you loue mée, by so mutch the more am I bounde to you: and by howe mutch the more I doo dutifullye loue you, by so mutch the more ought you not of dutie to hate mée: and in that you loue mée so well, I am the more bould to vtter my mynde so playnelye vnto you: Yet as you loue me, so must you not lust after by losse: and as you lyke mee, so must you not wish mée liue, but for my welfare: being not preiudiciall to your healthes and prosperitie, but very gratefull to my wealth and safetie.

[Page 93]Truly sayde the other, to like of your losses, or to be a meane of your hinderāce, we should neyther profite you, nor pleasure our selues: and to kéepe you contrarie your will, or to retayne you not as you wish, we should make a long haruest for a little profite, and a large season for a little Corne: therefore trust me, if you séeke your owne commoditie, you are the better to be commended, and he that is painefull for profite that will be gaynefull, hath woue a good webbe out of a course Loome, and spunne a fine threede of rugged wooll: which if you pretend as pre­strictly, as you answere to do spéedely, you to léese our small company, shall gaine good will of all, and in depar­ting from vs, you leaue vs not for euer: and in going to your Unckles, you depriue vs not alwayes of your fe­lowship, and when you are gone remember vs in minde, and we will not forget you by Letters.

Replyed Narbonus, for your courtesies I yéelde you thankes, and for youre fauourable fréendships, my life shall be at your commaundes: and if at any time, contra­rie were my doings, yet honest were my cogitations: for the whiche submission of mine, I deserue that pardon which is yours: As for my proofe, you haue neyther tryed me of trust, nor sold me of credite: but would you vse me in some matters of waight, you should not find me to dal­lie, and would you trie my good will, you should neyther find me wayward, nor wanton. As for séeing you heere­after, our departure shall not be for euer, and our adue for alwayes: but if I sée not you shortly, I will write spée­delie: the messenger of the minde is Paper and Ynke, whiche if I spare to spende on you, turne me out for a wrangler, and shutte me out of dores for a crauin Cocke.

The Gentlemen thereby, maruayled at his wise an­sweres, and were glad to heare him so well disposed, and to hinder him of his purpose, they woulde not stay him contrarie his mind. Shortly after, he asked if his Lorde would commaund him any dutie from his honour, or any seruice to Vienna? wherto he answered none: But to heare [Page 94] of his welfare, and commendations to his Unckle.

Then departed hee the Courte, and trauelled to­wardes Vienna: but his beloued fellowes and déere fréends brought him out of the Towne, and there left him, hee taking his leaue of them all, and they not a little sorow­full of his so hastie departure, bidding him bee mind­full of his promise in sending, and not to forgette them by writing, whereto he condescended, and willingly a­greed.

His Unckle had heard before how well he was dis­posed, and how excellentlye beloued, whiche comforted so his spirites, as he reioysed at the returne of his Ne­phue, who was no sooner alighted from his Horsse, and come into his house, but he embraced him, as if in a long time before he had neyther heard of him, nor seene him, glad to see him so well, and ioyfull of his re­turne.

After a few dayes were spent in making merrie, and some time passed for ioy of his comming home, Narbonus fell to his studie, and trusted to his Bookes: in so much, that he was loued of all, and not disliked of any, and in short time he profited excéedingly, and grewe very lear­ned: And amōgst other matters, he enquired of the health of Fidelia, though she loathed to heare him named, but she had so handled the matter, and stirred the sterne in such order, as where before hir credite was comparable to any, now hir misdemeanour coulde matche with the most: for a Gentleman in the Towne of great calling, and whose credite was woorth much, vsed hir companie so long, and gayned hir good will so farre, that though he were maryed to an antiente Gentlewoman, yet was he martired to hir beautie, and tyed to hir fauoure, and in time gayned that graunt of hir goodnesse, as she was at his commaunde with dayly diligence, and frequented his house, and vsed his companie in such open order, as had she bin more than honest, she must haue lost hir good name.

[Page 95]I know not whether hir good neyghboures were to bée blamed, for their reportes blased out in such beastly brauerie, or she not regarding hir estate, and keeping an old man companie, and not looking to hir honestie: But whether Fame were no flatterer, or Report no lyar I can not giue iudgement of the one, for that I am ig­norant of the other: but this is certayne, and these words were in euerie mans mouth, that she was spedde of a freende, and needed no other husband, one way to satis­fye hir deyntie desires, and another way to serue as a cloake for hir craftie collusions, which caused Narbonus to bewayle hér wilfulnesse, and lamente the lauishnesse of hir honestie, yet he purposed willinglye neuer to sée hir againe, for hee hadde giuen hir the last farewell long since: this was the fruite of suche faithlesse othes, and the profite that ensueth of such dayntie dissembling ones.

Phemocles had nowe spente his time limitted by his Father, and desirous not to make his time of tariance longer, the good will of his Prince therefore once graun­ted, he repaired to his father so spéedelie as his iourney coulde bee hasted: where when hee came, his fauou­rable entertainemente was nothing contrarie his ex­pected purpose, who now was as carelesse of the world, as before carefull to keepe euerie companie, desirous now to spende his time in studie, and leade his life in reading of Authoures, as well to encrease his witte, as to make him grow more perfect in wisedome: as well to furnish his Studie with Tragedies and Comedies, as to re­tayne Histories and Chronicles: as well to refreshe his wéeried senses with the swéete sauour of his beneficiall Bookes, as to cloy his chast eares with any other foolish deuises whatsoeuer. Thus Phemocles profited by expe­rience, and waxed wise, with the atteyning of sundrie languages. It hapned not long after the father of Phe­mocles was inuited to a feast, and Phemocles was desi­red to awayte on his Father. Henricus was bidden [Page 96] also thither, and Narbonus entreated to keepe him compa­nie: where at the appointed day, they approched to fulfill their former promises, and accomplished the inuitours request as they were earnestly desired. Narbonus came in with his Unckle, and Phemocles with his father were there before: Henricus and Narbonus saluted the courte­ous companie with a manerly good morrow, which Phe­mocles and his Father requited with as gratefull a gree­ting.

After Dinner, the olde Gentlemen discoursed of di­uers Countreys, the habite and maners of Strangers, in so much, as there grew a controuersie of the Coun­trey of Spayne, and Germany: and one disliked the reasons of the other: Henricus was defendant of the one side, and the Father of Phemocles resistante on the other: Then sayde Henricus, my Nephue can say somewhat, for his learning was like to cost him his life: Then answered the Father of Phemocles, and my Sonne is not so simple, but hée can his crosse rowe, reading it so often: Then were they willed all to keepe silence, and no par­tialitie to bee vsed on eyther side: Then an auntiente Gentleman of the companie, delighted to heare some discourses, tooke Phemocles from amongst the company by the hand, and by the other hande he tooke Narbonus, and bringing them to this assemblie, saide.

Gentlemen, the case so standes, and the determi­nation is suche, that you two amongst the rest of the other good companie, though of yéeres but small, yet your experience greatest, and for that you both haue tasted the tediousnesse of trauayle, and endured the running ouer that Countrey of Spayne, it is alotted the one of you to maint [...]yne an argumente againste the probabilities of the other, whether Spayne bée best go­uerned, or Germany better ruled? whereto Narbonus re­plyed.

Sir, were my experience answerable my good will, or my wit agréeable to my willing mind, I could answer [Page 97] you somewhat of the one, and resolue you fully of the o­ther: but such as it is, your courtesie so great to request, my liberalitie shall as duetifully bee extended, either to defend our weale publique, or to defend that noble Coun­trey of Spayne.

And Sir, answered Phemocles, were my knowledge so great, as my willinge minde shall bee easily seduced, you should not so hastily commaund, as I duetifully wil­linge to obey: But hopinge my simple discourses wil bee imputed to the readines of goodwill, my simplicitie to bee cloaked with my obedience, and my rudenesse hidden by consenting so quickly to answere your demaunds: let therfore that Gentleman if it please him, bee defendant for Spayne, and my selfe to my litle learninge, and lesse knowledge, will bee maintaynour of our natiue Coun­trey, and stande to maintaine so farre as I may: To the which Narbonus consented speedily, & Phemocles agreed willingly. These two Gentlemen stared the one in the face of the other, and neyther was knowen to other, yet Phemoc [...]es mistrusted that it should be Narbonus, yet vn­certaine whether his sight fayled him, or his iudgement were not right, staied til better occasion should be offred, and time more fit to manifest his minde: then sayd Phe­mocles as foloweth.

This Noble Countrey of ours ruled by a wise Prince, and gouerned by a famous Monarch, whose good lawes are inferiour to none: and whose iust Statutes do coun­teruayle any christned: But touchinge the Countrey which is more fertile for corne, and better replenished with Vineyardes: more fruitful with pastures, and bet­ter stored with all grayne: wée goe beyond them in the noblenes of personages, and far better qualities: better s [...]ruitours to our Prince, and more profitable for our Weale publique: As for the inferiour sorte, their dispo­sitions far more honest, and their good natures not infe­riour to their godly nurtures: their quiet life and honest conuersation, ruled with modesty, and brydled without [Page 98] rigour, not giuen greatly to offend, but seekinge much to please: As for our youth, their education is much better, and their natures applyed to their future profites: they doo some thing before they conceaue any thinge, and are learned before they vnderstand what it meaneth: if abi­lity bee wanting in the Parentes, and that they cannot maintayne them as they would, some good science they are straight imployed to, or some crafte or cunninge to maintaine their estates afterward: And if the Father a Souldiour, and a man childe borne him in the time of his seruice, they put him in paye, at the day of his birth, the better to maiytayne him, and the more honestly to haue him educated: Touching the estate of our women, and the honest behauiour amongst them vsed, theirs is inferiour in honesty, and nothing like in beauty: neither comparable in wisedome, nor like in modesty: neither like them in witte, nor equal to them in good grace: The apparrell of ours farre more handsome, though theirs much more costly: the attiring of their heads more séem­ly, and the wearing of other thinges much better: ours chaste and godly, theirs easie to bée intreated, and com­panions for any: If in any thing they excell, it is in the liberality of their courtesie, & if in ought they bee better, it is in the much bounty of their brothels: therfore I prefer our Countrey before their calling, and our honest liues, before their wicked liuinges.

In déede Sir, replyed Narbonus, to touche the estate of our Prince, and meddle with the Supremacy of the Empire, I should prooue my selfe an Asse, & in defending a foole, but I leaue him, and omitte his estate: But for their Nobilitie, and their Estates, I thinke them not in­feriour to ours, nor of lesse substaunce, then our greatest of callinge: both in magnanimity of birth, and greatnes of substaunce: both for noblenes of minde, and liberality towardes all men: both for the good gouernment of their owne estates and houses, as also, for excellency in main­taining armes agaynst their enemies. For the inferiour [Page 99] gentility and such others: the Gentleman though hee bee poore, yet is hee haughty: and though hee bee not ritch, yet thinkes hee himselfe not inferiour his Prince, the estate of his callinge set aside, and the greatnes of his Office excepted: for the which his Office, hee preferreth the effect of his duety, in reuerencing his person, as his Captayne, and chéefe gouernour: and for that hee hath the rule, hee is contente to bee ruled by him howsoeuer: otherwise, his manhood not inferiour to his Princes, nor his personage one degree lesse then his: As for the com­mon sorte of people they liue and lacke not: if they haue nothinge, they beg not any thing: for hee scorneth to aske of any man, & disdaineth him that thinkes he wil craue, & rather wil liue with Rootes like a Swine: thē in wāting craue at the handes of any other: hee standeth vpon his Pantables, and regardeth greatly his reputation: and if by his simple Science, and poore Crafte such as it is, in all his time hee gayne so many Duckates, as for one day will make him braue, hée will haue his Footecloth, and Pages after him, though euer after hée liue by patch­inge a Boote: And in that their Nobility, béeing not pre­iudiciall to their Prince, they shew a more haughty minde, and séeme to haue lesse care in carying their coine with them to their Graue. For the women, their libertie is lackinge, and their honesty looked vp: their restraint is great and their licence small, vnlesse in walking their owne Gardaynes, or frequenting the Churches, though happely their chastitie bee loose, and their honesty as la­uish: yet is it doone closely, and they kept restrayned by their Husbandes: their attire costly, and their apparrell gorgeous: their beauty in deede not the beste, and yet faire ynough: their dyet dayntie, and their feedinge fine: they spende not the daye in banquetinge, nor the night in surfottinge: that which they eate is little and good, and that which they drinke healthy, though not pleasaunt: For their Children I will not com­pare them in Learninge, but preferre them in any [Page 100] other good qualitiesd whatsoeuer: for nurture they want not to giue entertainmente in their young yeares: and so soone as they are come to any perfection, they learne to breake their Staues at Tilte, and such like, I thinke them therfore not inferiour to ours, but we rather Cock­neys to them: Touchinge the goodnesse of the groundes, and the fertility of their féeldes, they farre exceede ours, and we that way cannot excell them: their goodly Uine­yardes much greater, and their Grapes far better, and our Rhenish excepted, what haue wee like them? Their goodly Oliue Trées, and their fruitfull Figges: their Orenges, and Lemmons: their Pomgranates, and their Dates: their Reasons, & their other small fruites, y ^e good­nes wherof is better knowen to other Countreyes, then the trafique manifested to vs: their royall Riuers haue the onely name, and beare away the Bell, as well for swéetnes, as for fruitfulnesse: their substaunce of golde, and plenty of Siluer, passeth all others christned: and is knowne more bountifull then in any place wee know: I thinke vs therfore more base then they in condition, and farre inferiour in ritches.

Then sayd Phemocles, Sir their golde is their richest substaunce, and their siluer their greatest gayne: But doo you alow this their courtesie, or thinke it any part of good manners: the Subiectes to vse familiarity with their Prince, and to estéeme himselfe so good a man as hee?

This sheweth rather a base kinde of deformitie, or els a foolish prowd fantasie, neyther to bée ruled by reason, nor to bee perswaded by courtesie: the Kinge béeinge the chéefest member, is alowed for the head of the Countrey: the Subiect a profitable member, & a meane to preserue the substaunce. Is the Subiect so good as the Magistrate? and any Officer so great as his Ruler? the Kinge his auncesters were Princes béefore him, and hée beareth not that title vndeserued, why then are not men vnnoble elected Princes, and euery man chosen a Magistrate? [Page 101] wherefore then were Princes made? and why were they elected? why then are Gouernours placed in their seates to beare sway? and wherefore Magistrates elected to re­forme and correct? why then haue officers their names or titles? or wherefore are Iustices appoynted to giue iudgement? Is the Latchet so good as the Shomaker? and the carued Picture equall with him that made the portra­ture? is the Skinne of the Bullocke so good as the fleshe? and the rinde so sweete as the Apple? is the harbinger so good as his Lord [...]or the seruant not inferiour his mai­ster? is the Souldioure so good as his Captayne? or the Bondslaue like him that maketh him free? is the Cap­taine so good as his Coronell? or the Lorde equall to his Prince? Why then is not the Nettle so good as the Rose? and the brier of so much vertue as the Grape? the Hor­net so profitable as the Bee? and the Frogge so good as the Flounder? the Thistle so good as the Uiolet? and the Woolfe so good as the Oxe? Is this profitable in theyr calling? nay, is it not reprochfull to their kingdome? why? the Horsse knoweth his rider, and the Shéepe follow their Shepeheard: the Dogge his maister, and the Lion his kéeper: and shall not a man that hath sense, and is en­dued with knowledge excell these brute Beastes that haue not the one, and want the other? Are we not bidden to obey our Rulers, and feare our Magistraters? and who so resisteth the will of his Prince, purchaseth the displeasure of his God: But how should they offend God, when they know not his name? and whome shoulde they obey, whē they acknowledge not their Prince? They will sooner stoupe to a stone, and bende to a blocke, than ho­nour their King, and be ruled by their Regent: is this their life not detestable? and how can it be other but re­prochfull?

Replyed Narbonus, touching their Religion let that passe, and if it be not good, God make it better, but that neyther toucheth our argument, nor agréeth to our pur­pose: and though they vse not their obedience with the [Page 102] courtesie of the Cappe, yet they declare their humanitie in the bending of their bodyes. The Prince they confesse to be their chiefe, and are ruled by his lawes, but yet e­uerie man thinketh himselfe so good as his superioure, and euery inferiour not worse then his Magistrate: For what maketh Rulers but riches? and what causeth Ma­gistrates to beare sway, but the multitude of their goods, for take (saith he) his liuing from him, and let me haue his lands, and he will obey me, as I reuerenced him, and do me dutie, as I yeelded him seruice: and shall his Golde make me his subiect? and shall my vertues be inferiour to his substance? though he be wealthie, yet am I vertu­ous, and though he excell me in coyne, yet is my man­hoode better than his substance: let him ouercome me in the féeld, and then will I render him my armes, but if he refuse to fight with me, I disdeyne he should be my su­periour: I haue ventred my life, and he hath but payde some of his liuing, but had his liuing bin lacking, and as small as my substance, he should haue dangered his life, where now he hazarded but my soule: am I then inferi­our to his riches? nay, is not he subiecte to my honour: and bycause you haue saide so much, and are entred into the law of armes, we are I confesse good souldiours, but yet inferiour to them: we must eyther fill our hungrie paunches, or fight we will not one stroke: we must haue our Béefe, and our bagges filled with Bacon, our Chee­ses caried after vs, and our Women so follow vs: and if we march one day without filling of our greate guttes, we thinke straight we shall to the potte, or no other re­medie, but present death: and they can march thrée dayes, with drincking a cuppe of cold water, and eating a morsell of bread, and regard no more eating till their enterprise be ended: if haplie at their returne they gaine any thing by their trauaile, and haue taken any spoyle with their payne, they make their conquestes appeere by the brauerie of their backes, and their gold shall gilte their Rapiers and headpeeces. We hauing gotten any [Page 103] thing by spoyle, or gained ought by sacking, all goes into oure bellies, and had wee more, it were too little for our pi [...]ed paunches: then tumble wee like beastes, and wallow in our wickednesse, as druncken as Swine, and as diuelish as Epicures, and forsooth hee is best Souldioure that most can tipple, and hee oldest fray­ned, that can firste sette his fellow [...]o [...]er the Shoes: these are commendable, and these are to bee liked: these are to bee loued, and these to bee embraced: the [...] foloweth swearing and brawling, lying, and [...]rsing, for a trifle togither by the eares, and with a wette [...]n­ger fréendes agayne, they contrarie so moderate their affections, and so rule their appetites, that a trifle shall not force them to quarrel, nor euerie toy cause them fighte: but he y ^t offereth iniurie, shall be iniuriouslie dealt withall, and hee that vseth discourteous wordes, were better offer boysterous blowes, and who so giueth the lye, may happe so togayne the losse of his life: they therefore muffle their mouthes that they speake not too broade, and tie vp their toungs, least they babble those things for whiche afterwarde they crie Peccaui. I thinke therefore their modestie doth passe our man­linesse, and their goodnesse nothing inferiour to oure greatnesse.

Replyed Phemocles, their feates of armes maye bee greate, and their prowesse euerye way equal [...] to ours, but when a woorde shall cost a man his life, and euerye crosse aunswere required with a Stabba­do: their [...]stinesse I thinke is int [...]llerable, and their haughtie mindes desire too much reuengemente: and if in talking a man shall so offende, whome shall hee trye to trust? and if in walking a m [...]n, must bee so warye, they shoulde goe alone withoute anye compa­nie: Is this manhoode? nay, is it not malitiousnesse: eache man thinketh hys fellowe infe [...]ioure, and e­uerie one his companyon, not woorthye his calling: [Page 104] Are not these disdeynefull to contemne their fellowes, and fréends? and are they not hatefull to pretende mis­chiefe for so slēder occasiō? Is this courtesie? it is (indeede) curiositie, a signe of a mischeuous mind, and a certaintie of a disdeynefull stomacke.

Then said that Gentleman standing by, who brought them to the Barre: Gentlemen, I am sory that time will not serue to go farther with your argumente, and place not permitte to end that which is begunne, we therefore giue you thankes for your courtesies, and can not but commend of your iudgement.

Sir, replyed Narbonus, this courtesie is but small which we haue vsed, and our curiositie had bin great, had we made denyall of your demands: And for my part, if a­ny pleasure be conceyued by my ragged reasons, I reioice the time hath bin so bestowed, and thanke this good audi­dience, for lending their fauourable eares to so simple a Sophist as my selfe.

And sayd Phemocles, if fauour be graunted me for my good will, and fréendship giuen for that which I sayd, it is the greatest gaine I looke for, and the most pleasure I expect: and if any occasion haue [...]in offered to the preiu­dicialitie of any, or some word escaped, that [...] not be dis­gested, I gréeue at my rash sayings, and craue pārdon for my lewde wordes, but the prouokers I thinke will haue me excused, and those the procurers cloake this my rude riming: an [...] for their audience being so fréendly, I yéelde thankes bountifully, do [...]bting not but in time to prooue a more perfect Cl [...]arke in the Rules of [...] the; and a déeper [...] in the iudgement of my elders. But Sir, by [...] fréendly fauour, may I craue the name of you the defendant, which pleaseth you to let me vnderstande, I shall be bou [...]d [...] to yo [...]re courtesie, and vnited to youre fréendship▪

Sir, said Narbonus, to denie you my name were small courtesie, and great curiositie: therefore you shall neyther condemne me of the one, nor conuince me of the other: [Page 105] know you therefore that I am called Narbonus, Nephew to that Gentleman Henricus.

Phemocles at that worde, stared in his face as vncer­taine whether hee had heard him speake, or not seen him standing there before him: but casting all cause of suspici­on aside, and arming him selfe with the truth of his eyes, hee ran and imbraced him so harde, as if hée should haue reuiued him beeinge swounded, and then vttered these wordes, and spake as foloweth.

And hath my hap béene so harde, to contend this daye in argument, and to make such seuerall replyes agaynst my deare Narbonus, my best beloued fréend, and him on­ly whom my harte hath so longe desired? Which had I knowen, my mouth should not haue opened against thée, nor my tongue vnfolded those thoughtes which procéeded from my harte: But what soeuer hath béene foolishly pas­sed, let nothinge: I praye thee bée malitiously taken: but this good hap I thinke God bestowed on vs; to manifest vnto each other the fréendship before passed, and to renue our auncient amity by these contrary questions: know thou therfore Narbonus, that my selfe is thy faythfull Phemocles, who preferreth thy life, beefore his felicitie: and honoureth thy health, as his owne happinesse.

Then sayd Narbonus, and art thou here the most faith­full liuing? and haue I at last obtayned thy sight againe? my lot was lucklesse, and my hap to hard, to contend with thy fauour, and to speake so boldly against him, whose life is more deare vnto mee, then my owne health, and whose happinesse I prefer before any other thing liuing: And had I knowen these [...]uishe lippes had spoken such way warde wordes before thy fauourable face: I would eyther haue forced them neuer to speake more, or else to moderate their sayings with such modesty, as they should neither offended frowardly, nor haue spoken so wilfully: But as my hart the inuentor of all my sayinges, neuer me [...]te thee mischeefe, nor pretended theé trechery, so pardon I beséech thée this my boldenesse, and forgiue my [Page 106] mis [...]emeanour, in not crauing thy courteous name, and asking some questions touching thy estate: which seeing thou hast consented to bee the first inuentor in askinge, I shal as willingly condiscend to any thinge whatsoeuer, and longer I wishe not to drawe the bitter breath of my lingringe life, then to bée alwayes ready to die, the faith­full fréend of Phemocles: and looke what soeuer you shall commaund Narbonus, hee is alwayes prest a Voster com­maundemente.

The company vpon this renewed amitie, lefte the siege, and departed euery man to his proper Mansion: Phemocles and Narbonus departed to a secret place, where they recounted each to other their tragicall liues, and the causes of their not méetinge: Then they determined for the time they had spente, and their yeares so younge: the one but fiue and twenty, and the other lackinge some­what of that quantity: to put it to writi [...]ge, and to make it manifest, the one, not without the consent of the other: Then lastly, they determined to leade suche a prestricté order of lyfe, and neuer to vse these foolish toyes, which beefore they delighted in, as all other youthes should leaue their foolishe fancies, to follow their well disposed demeanours: which determinate purpose tooke so sure ground in the interiour partes of their hartes, as should neuer bée remooued to the exteriour partes of their bodyes. The fertile Féeldes began the bale of their bit­ternes, by conioyning of their amity: and the beautifull Bankes ended their vnhappines, by renouatinge their forepassed fréendship: where I leaue them to swimme in their secure safeties, and to bathe in the benificialitie of their beatitude.

Narbonus shortly after not vnmindefull of his former promises, thought not to requite the goodnesse of his fel­lowes, with the vngratefulnesse of his follyes: directed a Letter, the tenour wherof, insueth as foloweth.