A LOOKING GLASSE FOR Maried Folkes. Wherein they may plainly see their deformities; and also how to be­haue themselues one to another, and both of them towards God. Set forth Dialogue-wise for the more tastable and plainnesse sake, By R. S.

PROVERBS. 11.29.

He that troubleth his owne house, shall in­herite the winde, and the foole shall be seruant to him that lendeth.

PROVERBS. 12.4.

A vertuous woman is the crowne of her hus­band: but she that maketh him ashamed, is as corruption to his bones.

LONDON, Printed by N. O. for Henry Bell, and are to be sold at his shop on Holburne Hill neere the crosse Keyes. 1610.

THE AVTHOR TO the gentle Reader.

COurteous Reader, the speciall cause indu­cing me to take in hand this worke, and to bring my can­dle lighted into the glorious Sun­shine of this age, and to publish the same to the view of this famous common-wealth, was, that I haue seene & heard, with griefe of heart, in many places whither I haue come, wicked and vnquiet liuing betweene man & wife: the which caused me many a time to consult with my selfe, how I might be a meanes to reforme the same. I con­sidered and thought with my selfe, that many wanted meanes to be re­conciled [Page] one to another, and that there was no booke extant of this subiect in English; and that for want of meanes many haue liued igno­rantly, and so of necessity wickedly and discontentedly together, to the dishonor of God, the offence and e­uill example of others, the losse of their credits, the wasting of their goods, the corrupting of their chil­dren and seruants; and finally to the consuming of their owne bodies; yea many to the destroying of their soules for euermore. The consi­deration of these things moued me not to delay, but speedily to seeke out a remedy for them. And I pray God grant, that euery one that is in­fected with the aforesaid disease, when as this booke shall come to their hands, may apply it effectually vnto themselues, that so they may expell the poisoned malice of their cankered hearts. And all these pati­ents I would haue to marke, that the [Page] more they giue way vnto their na­ture, or rather vnnaturall affections, the more they shall be tainted with the horrible vices whereto they are addicted. And againe, the more they are infected with them, the more ve­nimous poyson their children shall draw from them, not onely whiles they are in their mothers wombe, but also much more afterwards by their euill examples. And howsoe­uer it is little regarded that children can be infected with the parents dis­position while they are in the wombe: yet dayly experience doth shew, that as they are formed and proportioned in body much like vnto their parents, so likewise in their nature and affections. Now therefore though thou hast small regard of thy selfe, yet for thy chil­drens sake, which are the fruit of thy body, take heed, obserue and pra­ctise good counsell herein contai­ned; which if thou doest, I make no [Page] doubt but thou shalt be a meanes to saue both thy selfe & many others: And moreouer, pondering these things deeply with my selfe, as I said, I called vnto remembrance a Dialogue betweene two women to this effect, written in Latine by the reuerend learned man Erasmus; and thinking it was not in English, I thought to publish the same in our mother tongue for the benefite of my countrymem: but after consi­dering further, that that onely con­cerned women, yea and that they might attaine to all that which hee counselleth there, and yet be dam­ned; I haue added thereunto the substance of faith and repentance, with diuers other particular poynts and examples, though briefly; which being practised, are sufficient to life eternall. And moreouer, lest men by reading the former part of this booke, which teacheth the duty of wiues, should domineere too much [Page] ouer them, I haue shewed them al­so in the later part thereof, the du­ties which they owe to their wiues, drawne from plaine proofes, reasons and arguments of holy Scripture; so that they may both learne how to behaue themselues each to other, and both of them to God, as they ought. And now if thou shalt reape profite from thence, as I hope thou shalt, except the fault be in thy selfe, giue glory to God, & counsel to thy neighbours, as time and oportuni­ty is offered: and in so doing, I doubt not but God will giue a bles­sing vnto thee & thy directions; and by this meanes thou shalt be an in­strument of a publicke and continu­all good, not onely in making good parents, but they by thy meanes also shall make good children, and good seruants: and this by Gods blessing shal successiuely go on from age to age, euen to the end of the world: and so by this meanes good [Page] parents which are scarce, shall bee multipled to the increase of Gods Church, and the flourishing estate of the common-wealth. And fur­ther know this, that good parents are speciall instruments to make godly children, and good seruants; and godly children and good ser­uants will make religious men and women; and religious men and wo­mē doth make a flourishing church, and famous common-weale, set forth Gods glory, and establish the Princes kingdome. Therefore I pray thee consider, and lay it vnto heart, what a common and continu­all good this peace-making is be­tweene married couples. Therefore by this premised, euery one may ea­sily see how necessary, comfortable, and commodious this little booke may bee through Gods blessing, to all sorts of men (high and low, rich and poore, religious and prophane) that some may teach, and some may [Page] learne, and all reape profite one by another. And now gentle reader, if thou finde any slips herein, as haply thou maist, I pray thee couer them with thy courtesie. Accept of my good wil, & receiue that with thank­fulnesse to God which may be pro­fitable to thy selfe; and if I shal heare that it shal be courteously receiued, and carefully practised, it shall bee a meanes through Gods fauour, to stirre me vp to attempt a greater worke, that shall be more profitable both for the Church of Christ, and my deare country, for the wealth of both which I onely desire to liue, and to haue maintenance to mani­fest my loue and duty which I owe vnto them.

But because I will not bee tedi­ous in the preface, I will conclude, lest I weary thee before thou come to the Conference. Onely this I de­sire of thee, that thou wilt not one­ly begin to reade the booke, but [Page] reade it to the end. And howsoe­euer some things may seeme vnsa­uorie vnto thee at the first: yet I feare not but in fine thou shalt finde it profitable and com­fortable. And thus I com­mit thee and all thy good exercises to the blessing of the Almighty.

Studious of thine as of mine owne quiet and profite, Robert Snawsel.

A LOOKING GLASSE FOR MAR­RIED FOLKES: OR A profitable Conference, be­tweene foure women and one man, touching their behauiours toward God and their husbands, and what they ought to bee; and also the dutie of husbands, toward their wiues.

The foure womens names are,

  • Abigail, the fathers ioy.
  • Eulalie, wel-spoken.
  • Xantip, a scold.
  • Margerie, a proud malapert.
  • Ben-ezer, an helper.
Eulaly.

GOOD Morrow (neighbor Xantip) how do you to day? did you see my gossip Mar­gerie?

Xantip.

No, I saw her not to day: but mee thinks you are fairer [Page] then ordinary.

Eulal.

What, do you begin to frump me?

Xant.

No truly you seeme to mée to bée very smug.

Eulal.

Peraduenture my new gowne sets a glosse on my face.

Xant.

I promise you you say true in­deed, I haue not seene a goodlier a great while: I take it to bee made of English wooll.

Eul.

The wooll indeed is from En­gland, but it was died in Venice.

Xant.

Truely it is a most gallant gowne, the softnesse of it passeth silke: and what a fine purple colour is it of?

Eul.

It is true, I like it well indeed: but looke, who comes yonder?

Xant.

It is Margerie, whom you asked for. Oh huge, how braue is shée? you haue onely a new gowne, but shee is new from toppe to toe.

Abigail.

And yet, I feare me, her soule is as old as Adam; and as filthy as the Serpent.

Xant.

Where were you that we saw you not before now?

Abig.

Little had you thought that I [Page] had bene so neare you, till you saw me.

Xant.

No, for if I had, I would not haue sworne so, as I did.

Abig.

Alas I heard thee with griefe, and thought to haue told thee of it at time conuenient: but were you not a­fraid lest God should see you, and heare you sweare so horribly.

Xant.

I know well, that God seeth all things, but he is mercifull.

Abig.

And as he is mercifull, so also is he iust.

Xant.

Welcome (Margerie) welcome.

Marg.

God a mercie good Xantip; how dost thou?

Xant.

Better to see you so fresh and well liking; mee thinks you are too too braue, your gown is most stately made, your neckerchiefe is of the finest cam­bricke, your stomacher is most gallant­ly wrought, and euery thing about you is so in print, that it doth mee good to looke vpon you.

Marg.

Woman, I may speake it a­mongst vs here, I will haue it so.

Xant.

And the more is my griefe, that I cannot haue it so too.

Abig.

I pray you neighbours talke no [Page] more of those things; why should wee busie our minds so much about this out­ward apparell, which onely sets out the body, and many times makes vs forget both God and our selues? Therefore I pray you (good neighbours) let vs re­gard this outward decking lesse, & the inward adorning of our selues more.

Marg.

What shall wée haue of you? a Puritane?

Abig.

I pray you Margerie, vse no more such scoffing speeches.

Marg.

And I pray you Abigail tel mee, doe you not thinke better of your selfe, then of any of vs?

Abig.

If you aske me to be bettered by my speech, I will tell you what I thinke of my selfe.

Eul.

Truly I do, Abigail.

Abig.

I think in my conscience, that I am a poore, sinfull, and miserable wo­man, in my selfe not worthy to liue vpon the earth; onely in and by Christ Iesus, I hope to bee made eternally happy.

Eulal.

What, are you poore and mi­serable? haue you not riches & the world at will? and haue you not a louing hus­band, [Page] which makes much of you?

Abig.

Alacke Eulaly, thou art an ho­nest ciuill woman, I must needs say, but yet thou speakest very carnally. What is all my riches, if I had 10000 times more then I haue, if that I bee not rich in Christ Iesus? and what though I could rule the whole world, which way I would, if I haue not peace of conscience? and what if I haue a louing husband, if I haue not a good husband?

Eul.

Are you not rich in Christ? haue you not peace of conscience? and haue you not also a louing and good husband?

Abig.

Because you protested, that you asked me to be bettered by me, I will make my case knowne vnto you in your eare. It is many times thus with me; when I thinke vpon my riches, and the aboundance of wealth, which God hath bestowed vpon my husband and me; then sathan suggesteth euill moti­ons in my heart, and my corrupt affecti­ons break forth in my life, so that often I thinke better of my selfe then I ought; and that I may neglect to worke with my hands, and that I may haue this and [Page] that fashion of apparell, because other of my calling haue the same: and that I may eate this dainty thing or that; and that I may either sit vp idly in the night, or lye longer then ordinary in the mor­ning. And on the other side, while I thus pride my selfe in my apparell, and walke idly out of my calling, and pam­per this sinfull carcase with delicious fare, I haue not respect vnto some of my poore members, nay vnto Christs members, as I ought. I speake this to my shame, that selfe loue is so much in me, which quenches the spirit of God, and depriues me many times of his fauour, and the excellent graces of his spirit, & then my conscience is troubled and dis­quieted; and then it is such a griefe vn­to me that I haue not a good husband, howsoeuer I confesse indeed I haue a louing husband.

Eul.

What meane you by a good husband?

Abig.

By a good husband I meane a religious husband, which should be my partener, and helper, not onely in bo­dily and worldly things, but especially in spiritual and heauenly, that we might [Page] draw Christs yoke equally together: that so in and through Christ wee might bee glorified together. I tel you neigh­bour, you will hardly beleeue, what a comfor it would bee vnto mee, if hee would tender my soule as he doth my body, nay if he would tender his owne soule. Indeed he will not be against any good thing I doe, I thanke God for it; but here is my griefe, that he will not bee partener of the good with mee, which is the cause, when I am sicke or afflicted in conscience, (as many times I am humbled for my sins, I blesse God for it) then, I say, he cannot minister spi­rituall comfort to me. Onely this he wil say, how dost thou wife? or God helpe thee: which I take kindly: but alas it is farre from that, which the Apostle ex­horts men vnto; namely, that they should dwell with their wiues, as men of knowledge; that is, if the woman be ignorant as the most are, he should in­struct and informe her in the waies of the Lord; if she heare any thing preached, or at publicke disputa­tions, whereof shee stands in doubt, shee should aske her husbande iudge­ment [Page] at home, and he should be able to resolue her; he should be able through God to comfort her in affliction, and to reioyce with her in prosperity: I do not meane any outward or fleshly ioy, so much as that, which is spirituall and heauenly.

Marg.

What is that, which you two are whispering together of so long? I doe not think but it was about some religious matters, for Abigail loues to talke of nothing else; & mee thought I heard now and then a sound of some holy words. My husband is much like vnto her, they would haue bene very well matched together.

Abig.

Me thinkes young women should not flout at any, much lesse at their husbands or elders.

Eul.

I pray you gossip tell vs, what is the practise of your husband, I haue heard great commendations of him.

Marg.

I warrant you hee will not misse a Sermon, yea many times he will haue mee with him against my will, when I had rather bee walking abroad in the fields, or else sit and talke with some of my neighbours: but somtimes [Page] I meete with him; for I am so long time a dressing of me, that he is glad to go a­lone, or else he should lose the best part of the Sermon. And when hee comes home, he wil pray, and make such a long repetition of that which was preached, & then such a seueral examination of e­uery one concerning the points deliue­red, that my heart grudges many times against him; and if it were not more for shame of the world, then for feare of him, I would tell him on both sides, that he troubles both himselfe and vs more then he needs. But sometimes I get me out, as soone as euer we come in, and other sometimes I lay the fault vp­on my memory, when he doth aske me, when I could, if I would, tell him; and then afterwardes hee goes to praier a­gaine, and euerie morning he will be sure to haue vs together at prayer; so after supper there must a chapter bee read at the least; and euery one must tell some thing, either what the meaning of such a verse is, or at least repeate some verse ouer that was read: and then he goes to prayer againe, and is so long commonly, that he make me [Page] so weary with kneeling, that sometimes I am forced to sit, and sometimes to leane and kneele againe, and sometimes I am almost a sleepe; so that he makes me wish many wishes, that I will not vtter.

Abig.

You haue vttered too much of your own euil disposition; truly I mar­uell that you & such as you are doe not feare lest the ground should open her mouth and swallow you vp, or the house fall vpon your heades, or the Diuell to fetch you quicke to hell, for this intollerable profanenesse, contempt, and abhominable wicked­nesse; that it will not onely suffice you to abuse your Christian husband, but God also and his worship, in such a hor­rible maner. I dare assure thée, it doth grieue me at the heart; and if it were not that I receiued some strength and and comfort by the holy practise of your husband, I thinke I should haue fallen into a swound. Oh how doth it gréeue mée that such a good man is troubled with such a bad wife! But seeing no­thing comes to passe without Gods, prouidence, I hope it is onely to exercise his patience, and that hee beeing crost [Page] héere with thee for a time, might liue without thee in glory for euer.

Eul.

Why, but mee thinkes you are very earnest, and no lesse precise. It would be irksome to any I thinke, ne­uer to haue any pleasure, but to be euer exercised, as shee said her husband was.

Aibg.

I tell thee my deare Eulaly, that it is the pleasantest & heauenliest life in the world, the which doth solace the soule, & reioyce the heart of a Chri­stian vnspeakeably; and there is no life of God in them, which leade not this life.

Eul.

Why, but do you thinke none shall bee saued but those that doe such things?

Abig.

Verily I thinke, that whoso­euer it is, that is ignorant of God & his wil, and without faith, cannot be saued. And againe, whosoeuer it is, y e knowes the will of God, and will obstinatly ei­ther contemn y e practise of it in others, or neglect it in them selues, is in the state of damnation.

Xant.

Shee is euer of the minde of Maister H.

Abig.

I know, that it is not only our [Page] mind, but the mind of the holy Ghost, and of all Christians, that are called to the knowledge of Gods grace; and I wish in heart, that it were your mind, and if it pleased God, the minde of the whole world. For if they did know certainely, that all those that are igno­rant of God, or contemptuously will scoffe at the practise of holy duties in others, or neglect it in themselues, are in the state of damnation, they would soone change their minds, and say, We fooles haue bene deceiued; and so no doubt, many of neglecters will become practitioners, and in steed of contem­ners of Gods people, and their practise, would become frequenters and louers of their heauenly society.

Eul.

I promise you, you say very well, I thinke there bee but few women can say so much.

Marg.

Nay will you beleeue me, I thinke in my conscience, there are not many mē in our towne can say so much. I wonder how you haue thus growne in knowledge within these few yeares.

Eul.

I promise you, the more that I cōsider of her words, the more I maruel.

Xant.
[Page]

I will lay my life, that our sir Iohn, nor sir William of B. cannot say so much without booke; it is pitty y t you were not coupled to a preacher.

Abig.

The greater is their igno­rance, and the more shall bee my pu­nishment, if my practise be not accor­ding to my knowledge; & therefore my heartes desire and prayer to God is, that as hee doth increase in me knowledg, so hee would giue me humility, and power to obey, that which I know.

Eul.

Indéed you say true. For I re­member our Sauiour Christ saith, that he which knowes his maisters wil, and doth it not, shall be beaten with many stripes.

Abig.

O neighbour Eulalie, if you would but practise that which you know, I should loue you better then e­uer I did: for then I hope you would be a Christian indeed.

Eul.

Why, what will you make of me? haue you known me thus long, and yet do you think y t I am not a Christiā?

Abig.

It is not such an easie matter to be a Christian. But be not offended with me, I will tell you what I thinke.

Eul.
[Page]

What thinke you, I pray you tell me?

Abig.

I thinke you be an honest ci­uill woman, and a Christian in name, but not in nature and in deed.

Eul.

Why, I was baptized, and go to Church, and I doe not mocke at the Preachers and professors, as some do; I am neither whore nor thiefe; I pay e­uery one their owne; I cannot abide to sweare, &c. I hope you cannot accuse me of deceiuing any, nor of lying: what manner of people will you make Chri­stians?

Abig.

Alas Eulalie, alas, I perceiue you would be counted a Christian, and that hitherto you haue thought your selfe to be one. I must needs tell you truly, that you haue scarce set one foote in Christianity: for all which you haue said, you may do, and yet bee damned.

Xant.

Here is a sharpe sentence.

Eul.

I pray you tell me the right way, that so I may walke in the direct path which leadeth vnto Christ; that so I might become one with him, and an heire of his kingdome.

Abig.

With all my heart. The first [Page] step is repentance, and faith in Christ Iesus.

Eul.

What is repentance.

Abig.

The Diuines doe define it in two words, mortification and viuifica­tion, that is, a dying to sin, and liuing to righteousnesse.

Eul.

And by what meanes must this be wrought in vs.

Abig.

By the powerfull preaching of the word of God, which breaketh and softeneth the hard & stony heart, hum­bleth the soule, and woundeth the con­science for sinne which it hath commit­ted against the God of heauen, and cau­seth it vnfeignedly to desire peace and reconciliation with him in his Sonne Christ; with a detestation of all the sins which he hath committed, and a resolu­tion to leade the rest of his life holy and vnblameably, as in the sight of God.

Eul.

What is Faith?

It is the worke of the Spirit of God in vs, which doth assure vs of the free pardon of our sins, and of the loue and fauour of God in Christ Iesus, with all the benefites that come with him; as it [Page] is written: It is the Spirit of God that beareth witnesse vnto our spirits, that we are the sonnes of God: and so it is that spirit which causeth vs to appre­hend and apply the mercies of God in Christ, and our selues, to the obedience of his word.

Eul.

I pray God that we may so do.

Abig.

If you haue an vnfeigned de­sire (as you seemed to me to haue) God hath promised to giue you power, if you will giue your endeuour therewithall: and so I commit you to his grace.

Xant.

Yea but Gossip, I pray you tell me, who gaue you this new gowne.

Eul.

Your minde is more set vpon my gowne, then vpon those heauenly matters which Abigail spoke of.

Marg.

I will lay twenty shillings, that Abigail hath almost made her a Pu­ritane.

Eul.

You thinke you may now talke your pleasure; when shée was here, you had not a word: she tooke you downe I trow.

Xant.

I hope if you haue a new gowne, we may without offence speake of it.

Eul.

Shal I tel you how it is with me?

Marg.
[Page]

Yea.

Eul.

Truly Abigails words were so gracious, that I could willingly haue heard her, though she should haue sate with vs all this day; her words are so sauoury to my soule, that me thinkes we should not put them out of our re­membrance with these outward things.

Xant.

Well Margery, if she will not tel me who gaue her her new gown, do you tel me what cost your neckerchiefe a yard.

Eul.

I thinke your minde runs thus vpon these outward things, when you are at praier and at Sermons.

Xant.

It is good to speake the truth; it doth so indeed.

Eul.

That ought not to be by no meanes: for thereby you much disho­nor God, and hinder your selfe, that the word cannot profite you.

Xant.

Yea but will you tell me, who gaue you your gowne?

Eul.

Why, who, I pray you, should giue honest wiues any such things but their husbands?

Xant.

And I pray you Margery, who gaue you yours?

Marg.
[Page]

My husband also.

Xant.

O happy women that happen on such husbands! For my part, I would I had bene married to a toad-stoole, when I maried with my Ben-ezer.

Eu.

O fie woman, what a wish is that? if Abigail had bene here, you would haue vext her to the heart; and I tell you truly, that you grieue me not a little. For I remember well, what she said, and I hope shall do, whiles I liue; namely, that we which professe our selues to be Christians, should adorne the Gospell of Christ by our holy con­uersation. And againe, she said, that the Apostle exhorts that our words should be gracious and poudred, that they might minister grace to the hearers.

Xant.

Yea you are happy, you haue no cause to speake or complaine, that haue all things you stand in need of.

Eu.

I thanke God we two do agrée, and I am sorry that you two cannot, but that euery foote you are falling out.

Xant.

I thinke I shall neuer fall in with such a fellow: you see how ragged­ly he lets me go: I would I were dead, if I be not ashamed many times to go out [Page] a doore, when I see how finely other women are dressed, that are married to farre poorer husbands then mine is.

Eu.

Well Xantip, well, I pray thée be contented; and if thou louest me, nay if thou louest God or thy selfe, marke well what our good neighbour Abigail hath said out of the Apostle Paul, that the woman ought to be in subiection to her husband. And againe, the ornamēt of a woman lies not in gay apparell, or in any setting out of herselfe to sight, as S. Peter teacheth: for I remember that I heard awhile ago at a Sermon, that the ornament of a woman consisted in chaste and honest conditions; and that the ornament of the minds or soules of godly women, was loue, méeknesse, faith, and patience, &c. And further, that it is the guise of drabs & harlots to prancke and pricke vp themselues to in­ueigle mens affections. Now then as for vs, that would be counted honest & religious matrons, we are neat inough, if we be cleanly, and can please our hus­bands.

Xant.

Yea, but this good man of mine is such a niggard, that he will not allow [Page] me wherwithall I may go handsome, but prodigally he spends my portiō, which, though I say it, was no little one.

Marg.

If I were as thou art, I would haue better things, or else the house should be too hot for him. My hus­band would not willingly let me haue such and such a thing, but I trow hee shall neuer goe to praier quietly, nor haue a cheerefull looke till I haue it.

Xant.

Yea, but my husband doth not only keepe me without such trim attire as you haue, but he will not let me haue that which is necessary, but spend that we haue in tipling and swilling, at dice, and cards, and amongst whores and harlots.

Eu.

Good words, good words: I think you surmise, and say more then is true.

Xant.

It is too true which I say; and moreouer when hee comes home well whitled in drinke at mid-night, after he hath bene a long while waited for, hee snorts like a swine when he is laied: and sir reuerence casts vp his drunken gorge in the bed, to say no more.

Eu.

O Xantip, you make my heart ake to heare you. Therefore marke this, [Page] that when you doe thus disgrace your husband, you shame you selfe.

Xant.

I would I were dead, if I had not rather sleepe with a sow, then lye by his side.

Marg,

But do you rattle him vp at his comming home?

Xant.

Yes, I handle him as hee de­serues, I make him know that I haue a tongue in my head.

Marg.

And what saith he againe?

Xant.

At the first he is as loud as I, thin­king to beare mee downe with great words.

Marg.

But do you neuer fall from scolding to scuffling?

Xant.

Once wee were fallen out so farre, that a little more would haue made vs fight out-right. Hee got vp a great cudgell, and shaked it at me, threatning me with thundering speeches.

Eul.

O lamentable liuing betweene man and wife!

Marg.

Wast thou not afraid then Xantip?

Xant.

Afraid? no: on the other side, I tooke vp the treuit; and if he had but touched me with a finger, he should wel [Page] haue seene and felt, that I would haue laid about me lustily with both my hands.

Marg.

I promise you, I commend you for your manly courage; you had got a new kinde of target, when you had the treuit, you did but lacke your di­staffe in stéed of a iauelin.

Xant.

I would haue made him haue knowne, that hee had met, and medled with his match.

Eul.

O neighbour, this should not be so.

Xant.

What tell you me of it? if hee will not vse me as his wife, I will not en­treate him as my husband.

Eul.

But Paul, as I said before, tea­cheth, that wiues should be in subiection to their husbands with all reuerence, and not to be check-mates with them: and Peter sets downe Sarah for an ex­ample to women, who called her hus­band Lord.

Marg.

We haue heard of these things before as well as you: but the same Paul I trow, teacheth, that husbands should loue their wiues, as Christ did his Church.

Xant.
[Page]

Well, let him first do his duty, and then I will do mine.

Eul.

But yet when the case stands thus, I thinke it is the wiues part to yeeld first to her husband.

Xant.

Husband, quoth she, marrie in good time; if he be a husband that makes no more account of me, then of his kit­chin girle.

Marg.

But in kindnesse Xantip tell me: did he, when you stood so stoutly to him, leaue off to threaten you blowes?

Xant.

Did he? yes, and it was best for him too, I trow, or else as I am an honest woman, I sweare to you, I would haue be laboured my fellow well and soundly.

Eul.

O terrible mannish woman! I did not thinke that thou hadst bene of such a peremptory spirit. Thou doest not remember that he hath power ouer thee, and that thou shouldest let thy de­sire be subiect to thy husbands.

Marg.

It was well done Xantip; hold him out still at staues end, yéeld him not an inch, lest he take an ell: let him not crow ouer thée.

Eul.

You need not giue her such wic­ked [Page] counsell; what, will you haue all the world to exclaime on our sexe, and cry out vpon women kind?

Marg.

Why, none but men will speake against vs; and if they do, we can giue them two words for one in the hot­test manner.

Eul.

Me thought you said your hus­band left his threatning: me thinks then Xantip, in all equity and conscience, you should ceasse your scolding.

Xant.

I mind not to leaue it yet.

Marg.

What does hee, I pray thee, whilest thou art scolding?

Xant.

What? sometimes he sléepes, flugge as hee is; sometimes hee fals a laughing; sometimes he takes his fid­dle, which hath scarce three strings, and thereon he strikes with his fidling stick as loud as he can, that hee may there­with drowne the noise of me.

Mar.

I am sure, this behauiour of his angers thee to the heart.

Xant.

It grieues me indéed to the ve­ry guts, and I so chafe sometimes that I can hardly hold my hands.

Eul.

I pray you good neighbour hold your tongue, and giue me leaue to [Page] speake my mind a little to you.

Xant.

Say on hardly, and speake your pleasure.

Eul.

You shall be as bold with me when you please: me thinkes we two for old acquaintance sake should be ve­ry bold & familiar one with another.

Xant.

You say true. For truly we haue bene play-fellowes from our cra­dles; and of all that euer I had, there was none that euer I loued better then you.

Eu.

Well then, this I say in loue that I haue towards you still, and my request is euen as you loue me, to hearken vnto me. You are maried now vnto your hus­band, what manner of man soeuer hee be, you haue no liberty to change him for another, or cast him off. In old time indeed, when couples could not agree, diuorcement was permitted & appoin­ted as an extreme remedie, but now that is quite abolished. Ben-ezer must bee your husband, and you Xantip his wife, till one of you dye.

Xant.

A vengeance on them, whosoe­uer they be, that haue taken away that law and liberty from vs.

Eul.
[Page]

Take heed what you speake, you wot not what you say, nor whom you curse. It is Christs pleasure I tell you, & no other mans, that it should be thus hence-forth.

Xant.

I can hardly beléeue it.

Eul.

Truly Xantip it is as I say, and therefore cry Christ mercy for thy cursed blasphemy, and study to agree with thy husband henceforward, by applying thy selfe vnto his quali­ties.

Xant.

Is it in my hands to make my husband a new man?

Eul.

I can tell you Xantip, wee wiues may do much either in making or mar­ring our husbands.

Xan.

Do you and your husband agree so well together?

Eul.

Yes, now, God be thanked, wee liue in peace.

Xant.

By your owne saying it seemes, that you could not well agrée hereto­fore.

Eul.

I must needes confesse to thee, though I take shame to my selfe, the fault most commonly was mine. For I was, as many other yong women are, [Page] proud & disdainfull, scorning that my husband should reproue mee; idle and carelesse, seldome, or neuer, seeking to please him; but rather thought that hee should stoope and seeke to me; and ma­ny times I would be lumpish and low­ring; and if at any time he spake vnto me any thing which pleased me not wel, I would snap him vp shrewdly, and an­swere him crossely; with shame I may speake it, God forgiue me: yet after, as I grew in yeares, I grew in experience, and comming acquainted with mother­ly and modest matrons, they gaue mee graue and sage counsell, which I obeied, and was much bettered by it: so that af­ter, there was neuer any tempest, I thank God. But yet as it fals out commonly a­mongst married folks, some little clouds arose which might haue made a storme, except I had obserued and practised the wise & Christian counsel of my louing religious neighbour Abigail, which made the cloudes to vanish, and my hus­band as meeke as a lambe. For I conside­red that euery man hath his qualities, & euery womā her infirmitie. I thought with my selfe how I might behaue my [Page] selfe best towards my husband for both our goods: and whiles I was weighing seriously these things, and reuoluing thē in my minde, these sentences of Scrip­ture came to my remembrance. A soft answere staieth wrath. And againe, A word spoken in due place, is like apples of gold with pictures of siluer. And fur­ther: In many words there cannot want iniquity, but he that refraineth his lips, is wise. And againe, A wise man waits his opportunity, but a foole speaketh what­soeuer commeth to his mind. And a­gaine, that which our Sauiour saith, that we shall giue account of euery idle word at the day of iudgement. And againe: That by our words we shall be iustified, and also condemned. And moreouer, the wise and gracious words of Abigail to king Dauid, came to my mind, whose words were so perswasiue and pithy, that they staied his furie, what time hee was resolute, and at the point to commit a great and horrible slaughter. And on the other side, I considered that we wo­men are apt to speake, and how the A­postle Iames willeth vs to bee swift to heare, and slow to speake. Hereupon I [Page] gathered what a grace and goodly or­nament it is for a woman to speake wise­ly and seldome, in modestie, and vnder correction: and therefore I resolued to pray continually, that God would set a watch before my lips, lest I should of­fend in my tongue: which though it be but a little member, yet, as the Apostle saith, if it be once kindled, is set on fire of hell.

These, & such like sayings of the holy Ghost swaied with me, and droue me to this consideration, that though my tongue be one of the least members of my body, yet if it were not rightly vsed. I might offend the most by it; I might much displease my husband, and hurt my neighbours, & destroy my own bo­dy & soule for euer (all which ought to be more deare vnto me then all the trea­sures and pleasures in the world.) And on the other side, if my tongue were rightly ordered, I might much glorifie God, beautifie his Gospell, and adorne my Christian profession; speake in the behalfe, and for the credit of my hus­band; and for the good of my neigh­bours: and therefore I praied vnto God, [Page] that hee would open the doore of my mouth, and giue me vtterance & wise­dome, that when I speake, my words might be directed by his Spirit, to put life and power into them, and season them with wisedome, and to make them forceable, gracious, and sauoury in the eares of the hearers. So that to conclude, alwaies after I would be carefull what, and when to speake, the manner how, and to whom, yeelding that reuerence to my husband, that is due to him. And I tell thee Xantip, these things wrought so with him by the blessing of God, that since I doe not remember that euer we haue had a crosse word.

Xant.

I promise you, I like your spéech passing well. Well, now I wish in my heart, that I, and all other women in the world, were of your minde: we may see what it is to kéepe company with those that are wise and godly. I thinke our neighbour Abigail did you more good then euer any woman did; and I thank God, you haue done me more good then euer any woman hitherto hath done.

Eul.

I reioice greatly that God hath [Page] made me an instrument to doe you any good, or any other. And this I pray you neighbour, if there bee any good done vnto you by me through Gods mercy, shew the fruits thereof in a holy life. For I may tell you, be it spoken now to the glory of God, there were few that euer thought you would haue bene re­claimed, you were so lauish of your tongue, and so fierce, that you would haue scared one with your words.

Xant.

We may see the power of the Almighty, who can make of the lyon a lambe, and that a little child should play vpon the hole of the aspe: and therefore I pray you, pray vnto God for me; yea and that also, when you are met toge­ther with Abigail, and the rest of your Christian friends, that God would go on with his good worke which hée hath begun in me.

Eul.

That is my duty. And to for­get you in my praier, were to forget my selfe vnto God. I pray you also, take all the means that may helpe you forward, & renoūce whatsoeuer may hinder you. You heard what holy and heauenly ex­ercises Margeries good husband vsed; [Page] vse you the same, though shee neglected and loathed them. In any case cashiere her company, and the fellowship of such, til you be strōger, or she better: for now she is a perillous woman, her euill words and rotten speeches will corrupt good manners, and quench your good motions: her religious husband is much vexed with her, euen as iust Lot was with the vncleane Sodomites. And a­gaine, I am to aduise you, not to be dis­maied for those that will mocke you for your profession, and because they see you begin to make conscience of your carriage, who vse to say, that we are a holy sister-hood, and precise foolish women; which prattle and chat wee know not what. Beare them with pati­ence, and bee slow, yet sure, when you speake, especially in the cause of Christ.

Xant.

Blessed bee God for this your loue and good counsell: I hope I shall make vse of it, as God shall enable me. I pray you now shew me some par­ticular directions how I and my hus­band may best liue together in mutuall loue.

Eul.

First of all I say to you, that many [Page] times loue is cleane lost betweene cou­ples, before they well know one the o­ther; the maine reason of it is, because they obserue not one anothers qualities, and apply themselues accordingly: and another, because they continue in strife when they are fallen out, and do not be­times make vp the breach. And the rea­son why they are backeward to make peace one with an other, ariseth from the stoutnesse of their hearts, which be­ing proud and stiffe, will not stoope one to another; which breedeth heart-bur­nings betwixt them, and inward grud­ging & murmuring one at another: and therefore these cursed seeds of dissentiō and discord, being cast once into the heart by the Diuell, will spring vp not only to roots, but trees, & wil hardly or neuer be holpen, if at the first they bee not speedily pluckt vp by the roots.

Now then marke the vse of this: you are yet but a young woman, and haue bene maried but a while, and I see with griefe, that there haue bene bitter iars betwixt you; and now you for your part, are desirous to haue peace, and liue in amity with him, that so you [Page] might passe your liues with mutual ioy. What therefore is past let it bee forgot­ten; and not onely forget, but forgiue all vnkindnesse. And if at any time your husband beginne, either vpon some cause or no occasion to contend, answere him mildly, and with all mo­desty and meekenesse: take heed that you put no fuel to the fire of his displea­sure, for if you doe, it is a thousand to one but the flame will burne you both. The tender twig is soone broken, but if it grow vnto a tree, it cannot be stird without an axe: which must cut it down. So likewise the nature of man is soone pacified with a soft and gentle answere; but if it be asperate with bitter speeches, nothing will asswage it, till it haue had his course, which is sometimes vnto the destruction both of man and wife; ex­cept the mighty axe of Gods word come in the mouth of his Minister, and cut it downe. Therefore it behooues vs in the beginning to labour, what wee can, to agree one with another, and to strengthen our affections against euill dispositions, and to holy actions. Now the only way to compasse peace, is, that [Page] wiues be buxom and obedient to their husbands, and to vse them kindly with gentle behauiour. Now whereas some women stand vpon their pantofles, that is, either vpon their glistering beau­tie, their proper personage, great porti­on, and rich parentage; alas it is nothing to lessen their loyalty and submission to their husbands. And that man that sets his loue vpon his wife, for these out­ward things especially, shall know, that as beauty passeth, his loue will passe with it; and as riches wast, his loue will languish: and as her parents die so, his loue will bee buried in obliuion with them.

Xantip.

Good gossip, tell mee, what way went you to worke to win your husband?

Eulal.

I told you a little before: but to the end, that you may the better re­member it, and follow me, I wil tell you againe.

Xantip.

If I can, I will doe my en­deauour to the vttermost, through the helpe of God.

Eul.

I make no doubt but that God wil strengthen then you to any good worke, [Page] if you call vpon him for his aide, and take those meanes which hee hath ap­pointed for the accomplishing of the same.

Xant.

Well, I will.

Eul.

First then this was my care; when hee was pleased, how I might keepe in with him: and when hee was angrie, how I might appease him. And this was one maine thing that I would continually aime at, to behaue my selfe humbly and meekly towards him, both in word and deed; also I would carry my selfe cheerfully toward him, and I would looke vp and downe, that there should bee nothing that might offend him. I also obserued his disposition and inclination. Moreouer I had respect vnto times and seasons, that his diet should bee prouided in due time; and that he should haue such delicates, as were most comfortable for his heart, and pleasant to his mouth; and so by this meanes I won both him and his loue vnto me; whereas before me thought he was as cruell as a Lyon, and terrible as a Dragon. Therefore I considered what those do that take in hand to tame [Page] Lyons, and Elephants, &c. which can­not be mastered with strong hand; ther­fore they that goe to the Elephant haue a speciall care that they bee not clad in white; and they that goe to Buls, that they be not araied in redde; because it hath bene found by experience, that those creatures by these colours, are made wilder and fiercer; and also Ti­gres by the sound of Timbrels, by report are so enraged, that they rend themselues in peeces; So they that breake horses haue their tearmes, their smackings, whistlings, and clappings, whereby they make their stout nature tame. Why then Xantip consider I pray you, how much more seemely and ne­cessary it it, that we women should ac­quaint our selues with such courses, whereby we may win our husbands to goodnesse; by whom we should haue the greatest comfort and defence next vnder God.

Xant.

It is true: say on, I pray you, say on.

Eulal.

Hauing obserued these things, I applied me to his nature, and I had great care that nothing should be done [Page] that might displease him; nor nothing left vndone, that might offend him. Not onely of my selfe had I this care, but of all that was in in the house; and that not onely in great matters, but also in the least

Xantip.

But how would you apply your selfe to him that would neuer tar­ry within doores, or come euery while drunken home?

Eul.

Stay a while, I will speake of that by and by. First I will shew you forth my behauiour towards my hus­band, because you desired to know it. When he lookt at any time very sad, & there were no fit time to speak to him, I would not thē laugh & dally with him, and play the tom-boy, as many women are wont to doe in such a case, but I put vpon me a sad countenance also, and lookt heauily; for euen as a looking glasse if it be a good one, doth shew the countenance of him that glasses himselfe in it: So it beseemes an honest wife to frame her selfe to her husbands affectiō, and not to be merry, when he is melan­choly, nor iocund, when he is sad, much lesse flire when hee is angry. And if at [Page] any time he were stird, I would either pacifie him with gentle speech, or giue way to his wrath, till it were somewhat alayed; or else I would keepe silence, til there were fit time for clearing my selfe, or aduising him with reuerence and dis­cretion. This course also I tooke; if at any time he came drunken home, I would not then for any thing haue giuē him a foule word, but I would cause his bed to be made very soft and easie, that he might sleepe the better, and by faire speeches get him to it.

Marg.

Héere are fetters for the legs, and yoakes for the neckes of women: must they crouch on this manner to their currish and swinish husbands? If I had such an one, as he behaued him­selfe like a swine, so I would vse him like a beast.

Eulal.

I had thought we had bene ridde of your company.

Marg.

I stood behind, and heard you so long, that I could no longer hold my peace. Are you a woman, and make them such dishclouts and slaues to their husbands? Came you of a woman, that you should giue thē no prerogatiue, but [Page] make them altogether vnderlings?

Eul.

I pray you be patient: I haue spoke nor counselled any thing but what I haue done my selfe; and I haue done nothing, but that which is warran­ted by the word of God.

Marg.

I hope the word of God doth shewmen their duties to wiues, as well as the wiues toward their hus­bands.

Eul.

It is so: but first wee must shew the one, before we can doe the other.

Marg.

You should haue begun with the men first.

Eul.

It might haply haue bene some­what tedious, and women mostly are so fickle, and wil find themselues so ma­ny things to doe, & are so soone weary of hearing and reading any good thing, that they would scarce stay to heare the beginning of their dutie; therefore I thought best to begin with them first.

Marg.

Trust me, you are a small friend to your owne sexe.

Eul.

More then you are to your owne selfe; for you are ignorant and carelesse of that good, which you might haue by your husband, if you would be louing [Page] and submissiue to him.

Marg.

Tell not mee of the good, which I may haue by my submissiō; for this is the truth of it, I care not though he heard me: I neuer meane to haue my necke brought vnder his girdle, but I will rather make him buckle & bend vnto me, or else he shall haue an vn­quet life.

Eul.

It is true indeed, that many such as you are wil haue their husbands bend and crouch vnto them. But how seemly or warrantable this is, let euery one iudge. It is neither for the womans cre­dit nor profit, whē the streame runs with violence this way. What a horrible sinne is it, that the woman should vsurpe the mans authority, & the poore man dares not do any thing, but what his wife wil? and as she saith so it must bee, or else the house will not hold her, neither will she looke vpon him without lumping and lowring; & if any describe the vglines of her countenāce in the time of her anger, she will scarce be friends with them. Oh therfore, Oh therefore, that these ma­sterly dames would but glasse them­selues, that they might see their rugged [Page] browes, their fiery eyes, pouching mouthes, their blacke and poysoned tonges, which vtter horrible blasphe­mies both against God and men, espe­cially against their husbands, whom they should loue most dearely. So heere is the cause why many men thinke it their greatest wisdome to possesse their soules in patience, and to passe by ma­ny grieuances in our sexe. Onely this is the refuge of those that are godly, to comfort themselues in the Lord their God. Therefore well (saith Salmon) It is better to liue in the wildernesse with a din­ner of greene hearbes, then to haue a stalled oxe, or to liue in a wide house with a con­tentious woman.

Marg.

I will be sworne, if there were but thrée or foure moe here; if they were of my mind, wee would teach you how to defame & shame vs on this manner.

Eul.

You defame and shame your selues, I onely shew, what shrewes are: and those that will neither be ruled by God nor their husbands: as he that tou­cheth not pitch shall not be defiled, so she that is not of this stocke and linage, [Page] is not blamed.

Xant.

Let her alone good Eulaly, and tel me how did you after your husband was in bed.

Eulal.

When his stomack was emp­tied, and he come to himselfe, when he was not stirred in his affections, nor troubled with other actions, but he and I alone, either in bed, or in some conue­nient place, I would gently admonish him, or rather intreat him, that he would haue a care of the health of his body, & to auoid that sin, to bee ouercome with drinck; telling him of such young men, yea gallant gentlemen as he knew, who got surfets by so ouercharging their sto­macks: also with weeping eies I would intreat him, to haue a care of his estate and credit, children and seruants, lest the one should be vndone by his spen­ding their portions, and the other by following his vnseemely course of life. This was the manner of my proceeding with him, seasoning my speeches in the best manner, that they might not be dis­tasted but digested of him. Also some­times I was wont to vse a preface, and make him promise mee, that hee would [Page] haue patience with me, if I a simple wo­man should put him in minde of some­thing, that might tend to his credit or welfare any way; & whē I had told him my mind, I would breake off that talke, and fall into some other more delightful to him. For gossip Xantip, I may say to you, that this is the weakenes of vs wo­men, that when wee haue begunne to speake, wee are so talkatiue and full of words, that wee wot not when to leaue.

Xant.

It is the pleasure of men in­deed so to say of vs, who haue no better sport, then to speake of, and report our infirmities: but say on I pray you.

Eul.

I had also a speciall care of this, that I would not find fault with my husband for any thing, in any bodies presence, nor complaine of him a­broad. A matter is soone amended, that is but betweene two, and not blazed a­broad. But if the matter bee of such a nature, that it cannot well be holpen by the wiues counsell, it is a seemelier course that the wife make complaint to her husbands parents, or some of his kindred, rather then to her owne; and also that she moderate her complaint & [Page] tēper her speech so, that she may seeme not to hate her husbands person, but on­ly his ill conditions. Neither let her blab out all; that so, when her husband comes to heare of it by his friends, that she hath spoken of his faultes with the least, he may be forced to acknowledge his wiues courtesie, and kind dealing, & to say as Saul did of Dauid: She is more righteous then I.

Xant.

She had neede be an Acade­mick, and brought vp in their schooles and Vniuersitie, that should skill to do this as you haue set downe.

Eul.

By this meanes we shall draw our husbands to shew vs the like kind­nesse.

Xant.

There are some husbands, whom no gentle intreaty will doe any good.

Eul.

Truely I thinke, there are few or none such: but say there be; first of al, as I haue said before, the husband must be borne, endured, and dwelled with, though neuer so wretched and wicked, euen a diuell incarnate. Therefore it is farre better to beare with one like our selues, or that may bee bettered by our [Page] courteous carriage, then one, that will be worse euery day then other, by our ouerthwart & crabbed behauiour. Come on Margerie, what will you say, if I tell you of some husbands, that haue refor­med their wiues on this wise by their gentle carriage. If they doe it, how much more thē is it meet, that we should do the same to our husbands?

Marg.

If you can tell vs of a truth of a­ny such, I say they are rare swans, and such husbands are hard to come by.

Eul.

Why, there are many such géese as you are, will not bee ruled by them, but continually will bee gagling at them.

Xant.

Shee hath such a swanne her selfe; if she had eyes to se him, or grace to make vse of him: I would I had such another; if I had, I would thinke I had a rare Iewell.

Eul.

I am acquainted with such a­nother, who is both a learned and a no­ble man, and of an excellent good cou­rage. He married a young maid about 17. yeares old, brought vp continually in the country; as noble men you know haue a kind of felicity to dwell in the [Page] country, that they may there hunt and hauke. He would make choise of a plaine and homely wench, to the intent he might better bring her to his bow. He began to teach her to reade, and to plaie on instruments, & by little and little to accustome her to make relation of some points deliuered in the Sermon, and to traine her vp in other matters, which were commendable & profitable. Now because these were strange and vncouth to the rude young woman, which had liued quitely in her mothers kitchin a­mong men and maid seruants, she grew soone weary of them, and would not obey her husband (as you Margery wil not:) and when her husband vrged her to them, shee would like a child, put fingar in the eye, and sometimes she would throw her selfe vpon the cold ground, and beate her head against it, as if shee would haue beaten out her braines. Shee continued this course a good while; her husband very wisely winkt at it, and kept in his displea­sure. On a day he willed his wife for recreations sake, to walke with him, in­to the country to her father. Oh shee [Page] was in heauen when she heard of that, & went with al her heart with him to her fathers house. Being come thither, he left his wife talking with her mother & sisters, himselfe went into the fields a hunting with his father in law; & being there and no body by, he told his father in law, how he hoped, that he had happened on a comfortable companion to haue past his life withall; but now he perceiued, that he had one alwaies pu­ling and complaining, and pittifully ta­king on, and that hée could not helpe it, with whatsoeuer he could say: There­fore he prayed his father to play the Physition, and to cure his daughters malady. Her father made him this an­swere: Son saith he, once in the Church I deliuered my daughter to you: if she will not be ruled by your counsell, vse your authority. Then the young man, thus replied: Father I know very wel, what I may do by my place and autho­rity; but I had rather shee might bee brought into order by your skill, and authority, then to vse the extreme re­medy of Stafford law. Vpon that his father promised him to do whathe could [Page] to cure and physicke his daughters croo­ked and peruerse disposition. Within a day or two therefore he pickt out a fit o­portunity both of time & place to deale alone with his daughter. Calling her to him aside, and composing his counte­nance in a graue and grim manner, and solemne sort, he beganne to shew her, what a hard fauoured woman she was, and of no louely qualities, and how he was oft afraid, least hee should neuer haue bestowed her in marriage: and yet saith hee, through the great care that I haue had for thee, I haue procured thee such an husband, as the most courteous and beautifull damsell that is, could not desire a better. To be briefe, the fathers spéech grew so hot, that hee could scarce hold his hands. The young woman moued partly with feare, and partly with the truth of that her father told her, fell downe at his feet, praying him to forgiue her, and promising euer after to be mindfull of her dutie. Her father forgaue her, and said further, that hee would shew himselfe a right father, if she would doe as she promised.

Xant.

And what followed?

Eu.
[Page]

The young woman going from her father, returned to her chamber, finds her husband all alone, fals vpon her knees, & cried: O husband, vnwise as I was, I haue not hitherto knowne you nor my selfe: hereafter you shall sée me become a new woman: only good husband forgiue and forget my former disobedience. This vnexpected humble spéech of his wife, hée welcomed with a kisse, and promised her all things, if shée would still continue in this minde.

Xant.

Yea, but did she so?

Eul.

Yes to her dying day; neither was there any seruice so base, which shée would not willingly vndergoe at her husbands pleasure, howsoeuer Margery it may be, you would haue done it at your leasure. And there grew euery day such great loue betwixt thē, that within few yeares she would often in company reioyce & blesse God that shee was mat­ched with such a husband, whom if shée had not maried, she thought there should not haue bene a more miserable crea­ture vnder the Sunne.

Marg.

Such men as these are as rare as white crowes.

Xant.
[Page]

Yet you haue such an one.

Eul.

The greater shall her iudgment be, except she repent: for there are few women in the country, I can tell you, that haue such a religious husband, who seeketh by all meanes her saluation.

Xant.

Haue you no mo such exāples?

Eul.

Yes, that I haue, and one e­speciall one, which I hope will please Margery, it being much in the commē ­dation of a woman, as the other was of a man.

Xant.

I pray you let vs heare it.

Eul.

There was a neighbour of ours, a very honest man, but somewhat of a hastie nature, and of a waspish & tetchy disposition: on a day he beate his wife, a woman, by common report, of singu­lar good carriage, and excellent behaui­our, such an one as Abigail, being ve­ry well beloued of all her neighbours. Being beaten & abused of her husband, she betakes her selfe into her secret clo­set, and there shee sits sighing and sob­bing, so easing her heart, and disgesting her griefe. Soone after vpon occasion her husband went into that roome, and finding his wife wofully weeping, saies [Page] to her: Why sittest thou here fighing & sobbing, and crying, like a child? Shee then thus prudently and patiently an­swered: Husband, said shee, is it not better to doe thus, here to bewaile my griefe where no body heares nor sees, then to runne and cry out in the streetes, and to exclaime on you, as others do on their husbands? By this wise and gen­tle speech of his wife, the stout heart of her husband was broken: hee gaue her his right hand, and promised that hee would neuer touch her againe in any e­uill manner; neither did he.

Xant.

I haue brought my husband to that passe too, but yet another way then she did.

Eul.

But I thinke you cannot yet a­gree.

Xant.

Why, what would you haue me to do?

Eul.

O Xantip, how oft haue I told thee how thou shouldst behaue thy selfe to thy husband? I perceiue thou hast a bad memory, or at least, small list to learne, sith so soone thou forgettest thy duty. Wel, once more I wil tel thee. First you must put vp all iniury at his hands.

Marg.
[Page]

Yea, so one might soone bée made a foole & a foot-stoole: I would ra­ther do him two for one.

Eul.

Hold you your tongue Mar­gery, I speake not to you but to Xantip. Then Xantip you must labour to win his good will by doing all duties with chearefulnesse, and louing kindnesse: so shal you at last ouercome him, or at least you shall haue him in a farre better tem­per then he is in at this present.

Xant.

Alas woman, he is farre fier­cer then he was before: I feare me, no gentlenesse will preuaile with him.

Eul.

Feare not woman, there is no wild beast so sauage, but by gentle hand­ling it may be tamed: be not then hope­lesse of a man; do but put in practise & vre my aduice for a few moneths, and then blame me, if you find not my coun­sell to doe you good. There are some smal faults which you must winke at; & take heede that you giue no occasion of contention, and thinke no scorne to be seruiceable in those things which be­come you. There are some women that will be euer frumping or whining, sel­dome or neuer vsing any amiable beha­uiour [Page] toward their husbands, which is a signe that they haue not the loue of God shed abroad in their hearts. For if they had, it would cause them to loue their husbands vnspeakeably.

Xant.

Indéed gossip, I must tell you plainly, I cannot shew that loue to my husband that I should, and some do to theirs, he is so crosse to me, and euery way so vntoward.

Eul.

But I hope it would bee for your good, if hee would leaue his bad quali­ties: suppose when you are angry with your husband, that then you could by the art of Circes transforme your hus­band into a swine, or a Beare, or any such like beast, would you not do it?

Xant.

I know I should not: but whe­ther I would yea or no, its hard to say.

Eul.

What, had you rather haue a swine or a Beare to your hushand then a man?

Xant.

You doe not heare me say so; I trow, no.

Eul.

Go to then, what if you could make him of a wine-bibber, a sober per­son; of a ding-thrift a good husband; of a slothfull, a painefull person; of a pro­phane [Page] creature, a religious and zealous Christian, would you not do it?

Xant.

There is a question indeede. Yes, with all my heart would I: but how should I do it?

Eul.

Xantip, Xantip, thou art like vnto those women which the Apostle speakes of, that are alwaies learning, and are neuer taught: so thou art alwaies asking how shal I do this and that, and yet thou remainest still ignorant: and wilt thou know why thou art so ignorant still, and forgetfull?

Xan.

Yes, with a good will.

Eul.

It is because you do not practise that which is taught you. I shewed be­fore to you, that you must adorne the Gospell of Christ by your holy conuer­sation. Now if you be a Christian, as I thought you were, & suppose you think no lesse of your selfe; of you the Apostle askes this question: What knowest thou ô wife, whether thou shalt win thy hus­band? meaning, by thy holy example, gracious words & counsell, praiers and patience, your conference and commu­nity. Now if by any meanes you can win your husbād, what a rich crowne of glo­ry [Page] shall you obtaine? what vnspeakea­ble ioy and comfort shall you haue both in this life, and in the life to come? Set not your eies so much vpon his ill con­ditions: for that makes them seeme grea­ter then they be; and to twit him with them, is not the way to bring him to goodnesse, but to make him worse. Be­fore you were maried to him, you shold haue considered what his ill qualities were: for it behoues a woman not one­ly to chuse a husband by her eies, but al­so by her eares, and by experience of his qualities; neither is it a time after once they be maried, of complaining & accusing, but of curing their bad hus­bands.

Xant.

What woman knew you euer, that chose her husband with her eares?

Eul.

She chuses a husband with her eies, that respects nothing but his visage and personage: and she chuseth him by her eares, that warily & wisely weighes what the world, especially the best sort, say of him; and she chuseth him by ex­perience, who trieth his loue and con­stancy.

Xant.

This is good counsell, but [Page] it is all too late.

Eul.

But it is not too late to labour the reformation of your husband; and yet it shall be in very good time, if you can profite your husband. For the way to good manners is neuer too late; and you both shall finde a double comfort of it, if your husband shal haue any children by you.

Xant.

I haue one already.

Eul.

When, I pray you?

Xant.

A pretty while agoe?

Eul.

How many moneths since?

Xant.

Welnéere seuen.

Eul.

How can that bee? Is it possible that you should haue a child in three moneths?

Xant.

Tush, it is longer.

Eul.

It is not a day longer, if you be­ginne your reckoning from the mariage day.

Xant.

Yea, but we had conference be­fore.

Eul.

Like inough; but I hope chil­dren are not gotten with conference. Is this you that cōplaine of your husband so much? I perceiue one house is better troubled with you then two. I feare I [Page] haue bestowed all my labour in vaine vpon you? what thinke you will our neighbour Abigail say, when she heares of this? it will grieue her not a little.

Xant.

We were sure together before.

Eul.

The sin is something the lesse, but yet except it be repented of, and that from the heart, God will punish you both for it; and therefore looke to it, & lament it, as also all other your misde­meanors. What is it, a boy?

Xant.

Yes, a goodly lad, God blesse it.

Eul.

You must haue a speciall care to bring him vp in the feare of the Lord; o­therwise make your reckoning that hee will be a great crosse to you both: but if you wil catechise him now from his cra­dle, & so cōtinually, no doubt but he wil be a meanes to set you at one, if that you will but incline a little to your husbands minde. I pray you tell me, what do other men say of your husband, your neigh­bours, and those that haue dealing with him?

Xant.

They commend him out of all cry for a courteous, liberall, and friendly man.

Eul.

This makes me hope that he will [Page] proue such an one as we would haue him.

Xant.

But I am sure that I find him not such an one to me, whatsoeuer they say.

Eul.

Yea but do you shew your selfe such an one towards him, as I haue coun­selled you; and if he proue not such an one in time as I said, call me Eulalie no longer, but Pseudolalie, or lyer. Moreo­uer remember, that yet he is but a yong man, not, as I thinke, aboue foure and twenty yeares old; alas poore soule, he knowes not yet what belongs to a hus­band or housekeeping. You must not thinke to bee separated from him, as a great many do, if so bee they cannot a­gree vpon euery thing, then straight no­thing but separation.

Xant.

God forgiue me, I haue often wished it.

Eul.

But repent of that; and if euer it come into your minde, consider with your selfe how friuolous a thing it is for a woman to be diuorced from her hus­band, sith so many inconueniences fol­low of it. Againe, thinke with your selfe, that it is the crowne and commen­dation [Page] of a matron to be obedient to her husband, as hath bene said; yea, that it is a thing ordained in nature, and de­creed by God, that the woman should wholly depend vpon the man, & haue him as her head. Also remember the pretty little boy, the fruit of your wōbe; what would you doe with him, if you went away? would you carry him with you? then you should depriue your hus­band of his right: would you leaue him with your husband? then you shall depriue your selfe of part of your selfe. Lastly, tell me, haue you any that beare you ill will?

Xant.

Yes, I haue a step-mother, & mother in law like her: for they hate me so much, that I thinke they could wish I were at the Diuell.

Eul.

Then remember them also. For what could you do to make them reioice more, thē if they should see you liue a­lone like a widow; nay worse then a wi­dow: for those may mary againe, but so could not you, but must liue rather like an harlot that is separated for adultery.

Xant.

I must néeds say your counsell is good, but I cannot abide to be thus [Page] vexed euery day.

Eul.

But thinke with your selfe what great labour you tooke before you could teach this parrot to pronounce some words.

Xant.

It was a long time indéede.

Eul.

And doth it seeme irksome and tedious vnto you to take some paines to make your husband a good man? You are not the woman I tooke you for: for I alwaies thought that you would haue refused nothing that might be profita­ble to both your soules and bodies, and that you might passe your daies in peace & pleasure. You haue heard how great paines men take to breake their horses, and what curious meanes and deuices they vse to tame Lonys, Bulles, and E­lephants, and shall we thinke much to take a little paines to haue good hus­bands?

Xant.

What shall I doe?

Eul.

Truly, it grieues me to heare you. This is the foot of your song com­monly: What shall I do? Why this do. Be carefull that your house be neate and cleanly, that there may bee nothing to driue your husband out of doores. Be [Page] gentle, louing and kinde to him: be al­waies mindfull of that reuerence which is due to him. Be not lumpish, nor yet tōboyish: be not sluttish, nor yet garish in your apparell: let your meate be well dressed, and in due season: know your husbands tooth: let him haue that which will delight his palate: shew your selfe gentle and affable to his friends, bidde them often to your house, and see with chearfulnes all be hādsome. When your husband is merry, be not you sad: & whē he is melancholy, be not you merry: for contraries wil not agree together. Make his bed soft, & see that euery thing which is good bee prouided for him. By this meanes you shall haue him keepe home, and so saue idle expences: for thus will he thinke with himselfe at length. Good Lord, what meane I? what a foole am I that liue ranging abroad with losse of my goods and good name, by keeping drabbe, and drunken company, when I haue such a good and louing wife at home, which takes more pleasure in me, then this flattering harlot? why then, much more should I bee delightfull to her, if I would quite leaue these truls, [Page] and swilling company. Well, I will re­solue with my selfe henceforth to leaue this filthy and beastly course of life.

Xant.

Doe you thinke that I shall preuaile?

Eul.

You are very incredulous, and a woman of small hope: you would ill do I perceiue as a certaine graue matron did, which I had thought to haue told you of before, but I let it then passe, because I would not bee tedious vnto you.

Xant.

I pray tell me, what shee did.

Eul.

You are maruellous desirous of nouelties, and inquisitiue to know: it were an excellent thing in you, if you were as readie to practise what you know, and to follow the good examples you heare of.

Xant.

Well, I hope I shall doe it.

Eul.

I will briefly shew you the same: not that I would haue you to fol­low her steppes, but learne wisedome from her policie. There was an anci­ent Gentleman, who gaue himselfe to hunting, and as he was an hunting, hee light vpon a yong maid, a poore womās daughter. For loue of her, hee would [Page] leaue his owne house, and frequent that. His wife suspecting some such matter, watched him one time whither he went, and seeing him goe to a poore cottage, thither she went one day, when he was away, and got out of them what he did there, how he lay; she could see nothing there but bare stone-wals, & meere po­uerty. Shee goes home in hast, and makes no lesse speed againe, bringing with her a handsome bed, & good pro­uision, with siluer plate, and also gaue them mony, willing them, if he came a­ny more, to make more of him and giue him better entertainment; not telling them all this wile, that she was his wife, but made semblance as though she were his sister. Soone after shee was gone, comes her husband priuily, not know­ing what was done; and seeing the house richly furnished, his diet more dainty, and greater plenty of it then ordinary, he asked them whence they had all this furniture and prouision. They told him, that a graue matron a kinswoman of his brought it them, and charged them at her departure, to giue him better atten­dance and entertainment. By and by [Page] his heart smote him, and told him, that it was his wife: he goes home in all hast asking her, whether she had ben in such a place; shee tels him yea; then he asked her, what she meant by it, to carrie bed­ding, and such a deale of good plate and prouision thither. O husband saith she, you haue bene vsed euer since I knew you, to a better diet and lodging, then I see any there; for you haue there but bad entertainment. Therefore I thought it my dutie, sith it was your pleasure vp­on what occasion I know not, often to resort thither, that you should haue bet­ter prouision when you came, then they could affoord you. Now marke the issue, when the man saw the tender loue and care of his wife, he neuer stole out after, but continually kept her company at home. Also I could make rehearsall of another, if I thought it expedient, which inuited home her husbands paramour; and if hee supped abroad with her, would send them some one dainty dish or other, and by this meanes win their husbands loue wholy to themselues. But howsoeuer this fell out at sometime, yet it is not lawfull to take the same course, [Page] though wee were in hope, our attempt should haue successe; for wee must not doe euill, that good may come of it. But to this end I haue alledged these two last, that if women haue won their husbands, which were lincked to har­lots; then much more may Christian women by their louely and holy carri­age, be in hope to win them, which hate such strumpets, And thou Xantip, that saiest thy husband haunteth harlots, this is my counsel to thee, to make much of him; not because he doth that wicked­nesse, or to flesh him in his lust, but that therby thou maist reclaime him from it: but in no case countenance thou his pa­ramour.

Xant.

I purpose to practise your pre­cepts.

Eul.

Looke on me; I promise you, if you practise thē, as you haue often said, you shall finde me a friend indeed, and I will goe to your husband, and get Abigail, that can giue beter counsel then I, to goe with me; and wee will tell him throughly of his duty, yea and that in such a manner, as I make no doubt, but hee shall accept of it.

Xant.
[Page]

I commend your course. But take heede hee smell vs not out; for if he know, that I haue made his faults knowne to you, he will be so out­ragious, as though he would bring hea­uen and earth together, and take on with mee like a madde man, and bed­lem,

Eul.

Feare not, wee will bring the matter so cunningly about, & fetch him so finely ouer, that I make no doubt, but that we will draw out of himselfe, what broyles haue bene betwixt you; and when wee haue drawne out all his corruptions as cleane as wine out of a vessell, then will wee put into him the heauenly liquor of holy doctrine, and tell him how hee is to demeane himselfe towards you.

Xant.

Christ prosper our enterprises.

Eul.

We may bee sure that hee will giue vs good successe, if wee doe not crosse our selues. So fare you well.

Abig.

God spéede neighbour Ben­ezer, how haue you done a long time?

Ezer.

Welcome neighbours, wel­come: how do you?

Eul.

Tell vs I pray you, how doth [Page] your wife?

Ezer.

Euen like a shrew, for any thing I know.

Eul.

If I may be so bold as speaks, it is better to be a sheepe.

Ezer.

I giue you my word gossip, my wife is not a sheep, nay, I pray God shee proue not a wolfe.

Abig.

It pleases men many times to speak their pleasures of their wiues, though they be neuer so kind to them.

Ezer.

Kind? my wife is so kind, that Ile warrant her shee will neuer kill mee with kindnesse, for hers is contrary to nature and womannishnes; for I thinke there is not a verier shrew, and horribler scold liuing vpon the earth.

Abig.

Yea but neighbour, I pray you giue me liue, you know that men are sometimes hasty, and will moue their wiues to speake.

Ezer.

Speake, say you? As the saying is, there is a difference betweene staring and starke madde; so may I say, there is a difference betweene speaking & scol­ding. For I will tell you neighbours, I was but forth the other night some­what late, with a friend or two of mine; [Page] but good Lord, when I came home, what a life shee kept? I had no sooner put my head within doores, but shee gaue mee such a terrible looke, and vttered such an horrible voice, that I thought verily that she would haue flowne in my face, and haue scratched out mine eyes; vtte­ring these speeches, Where the poxe haue you bene all this while? Is not this a fine time to come home at. You are welcome from your whores with a mur­raine; a vengeance light vpon you, and the deuill in hell fetch you: I would you might breake your neck one night, that I might be ridde of you some way or o­ther.

Abig.

Is it possible, that she should be such a terrible woman?

Ezer.

If you did but heare her some­times, neighbours, you would blesse your selues; for I think in my conscience that she is as terrible as a Lyon, as subtil as a serpent, and as wicked as the diuell himselfe; for what with her scolding, what with her swearing, and with her tumults and burstling vp and downe, you would thinke the very house would fall vpon our heads.

Abig.
[Page]

O the vnspeakeable patience and mercie of our God, that hee suffers such things vnpunished!

Eul.

Good neighbour learne to beare with your wiues weakenes & infirmities.

Ezer.

Infirmities? what call you in­firmities?

Abig.

The wiues infirmitie toward her husband is, when she cannot put vp wrong at his hands.

Ezer.

Put vp wrong? shee will re­uenge two rather, then put vp one. I thinke shee would vexe the patientest man vpon the earth: sometimes shee moues mee so much, that I am readie to beate out her braines.

Abig.

God forbid, I am verie much grieued to heare of such bitter contenti­on berweene man and wife; and so, I am sure, is my neighbour Eulaly.

Ezer.

I will tell you both but a lit­tle, how shee hath vsed me. If I spend but a teaster or tweluepence, then shee railes vpon me, as if I were her pren­tice boy, that had stolne it from her: or if I will not buy her this toy, or that new-fangle, this dainty morsell or that; shee takes on like a mad woman, say­ing [Page] that such a woman can haue this, & that for a word, and why may not shée, as well haue the same? And if I be but foorth a little, why then shee will raile vpon mee, as if I were her slaue, yea a diuell incarnate: though many times shee is foorth halfe a day, yea a whole day together, shee thinkes I must say nothing; if I doe, it shall bee spread a­broad, & ten times more shall be made of it, then either I said or thought. When she comes in, if I doe but say in all gentle manner: Xantip, or wife, where hast thou bene? straight she will snappe me vp with this answere, Why what care you? or what haue to doe? must I make you accounts? (marry muffe:) can I go no whither but you must know it? I will aske you leaue, when you are dead, &c. Or if I aske her, why didst thou staie so long? shee will answere, If I had knowne my staying would haue angred you, I would not haue come yet, I will goe & come when I list for all you. If I speake her faire, she thinkes I flatter her, and will begin to frump and frowne: if I threaten, then she will bend her fists, and tell mée [Page] to my face, that I shall haue as good or worse then I bring; and will stand da­ring and challenging mee for the blood in my belly, &c. What man thinke you can endure such a woman?

Eul.

Indeed if al these things be true, which you haue said, shee hath bene much to blame; but I hope neighbour that she wil become now a new woman, if that you would but a little beare with her.

Ezer.

She is nought, starke nought, neuer speake for her: I haue forborne her too much and too long, & I perceiue that if I giue her an inch, shee will take an ell.

Abig.

O neighbour, good neigh­bour, now be patient, and doe but re­member how wee deale with God, and yet he waiteth with patience, looking if at any time wee will turne vnto him: and though we be obstinate still, yet he offers himselfe vnto vs in loue, whereas long ago iustly he might haue destroy­ed vs in the middest of our sinnes for euer.

Ezer.

I promise you Abigail, you say true: if God indeed were not very [Page] patient & exceeding mercifull, it would be wrong with vs.

Eul.

Therefore the long patience and goodnesse of God, ought to leade vs to repentance, and to deale fauourably and in tender compassion one with ano­ther.

Ezer.

You say true, it should doe so indeed.

Abig.

Yea, and it must doe so too, if we will be the Lords seruants, as it is writtē, Let your patiēt mind be knowne vnto all men, the Lord is at hand. Now if this one lesson were deepely written in our heartes by the holy Ghost, wee would not be so readie to take reuenge one vpon another, as we doe, neither should such bitter and poysonful spee­ches proceed from vs, as commonly do; neither would wee put the euill day far from vs, as the most doe: but we would with speed depart from iniquity, and waite diligently and continually for the comming of our Lord Iesus Christ.

Ezer.

Beleeue mée, beléeue mée, I would my Xantip were here, to heare you, I hope your good words will do her good.

Abig.
[Page]

Alas sir, we are but simple wo­men, little able to doe either you or her that good, which you might haue rea­ped by the word of God preached: but yet if it please you to giue vs leaue, wee will shew our mindes, what a comforta­ble thing it is for man and wife to liue together in loue and charity.

Ezer.

Indeed, I thinke no two wo­men in the towne, no nor in the whole country, can shew it better then you, because you know what it is by expe­rience.

Abig.

Wee thanke God, wee both haue experience of it to our comforts, and so would we, that you had, with the losse of the best horse or cow, that ei­ther of vs haue.

Ezer.

I thanke you both, and I had rather then the best gelding in my stable with twenty pound vpon his backe.

Abig.

Seeing then that peace betweene man and wife is so comfortable, & you would so gladly enioy it with so great losse; will you bee content to hearken, and bee thankefull to God, if that wee shew you a direct way, how you and your wife might agree together, as [Page] long as you shall liue.

Ezer.

Be contented, say you? yea & be glad of the time that euer you set footing ouer my threshold. I haue had so much vnquietnesse alreadie, that me thinkes a little peace, would be as a lit­tle paradice to my soule; but yet if my wife did know, that I desired and labo­red for peace, shée would be the further off it, except God wrought aboue ordi­nary in her.

Abig.

We are but women, & there­fore something bashfull, as it beseemes vs, to speake vnto you beeing a man, of these matters; yet vnder leaue and cor­rection, we will do our good wil to de­clare those things which wee haue lear­ned and partly know by experience.

Ezer.

You are both ancient, and I am but young, and my wife also; and therefore I would you could direct and tell vs a way how to liue quietly.

Abig.

First of all, before you can loue one another as you ought, you must labour for the loue of God, which must bee shed abroad in your heartes, the which loue, will cause you to loue one another.

Ezer.
[Page]

I hope wee haue the loue of God already, otherwise I am of the minde, that hee would either punish vs, or else take his blessings from vs.

Abig.

Doe you not thinke this a great punishment, that you cannot a­gree? Truly I may safely say, that it is a punishment both to your bodies and soules.

Ezer.

I confesse indeed that it is a pu­nishment, but yet I hope that God lo­ueth many men & women, that yet fall out betwixt themselues.

Abig.

Surely if there bee continuall strife, it is an euident signe, that the Lord loueth not the one of them, if not both.

Ezer.

But how should wee know whom it is that the Lord doth not loue?

Abig.

They which are the cause of the continuing and breeding of the broiles.

Ezer.

That is my Xantip.

Abig.

But who will you be iudged by?

Ezer.

By God and the country.

Abig.

Well, God iudgeth the heart: & for your selfe we haue heard that you haue a good report among your neigh­bours; therefore I haue the better hope [Page] of you: and therefore I pray you let me aske you one question.

Ezer.

Aske me two if you will, I will tell you if I can, I like your talke so well.

Abig.

What thinke you is the loue of God to his children?

Ezer.

That is too hard a question for me to answer, I doe not professe my selfe a Diuine.

Abig.

But euery Christian ought to be a Diuine, especially in such principles as the loue of God is, without which none possible can be saued in this life, nor in the life to come.

Ezer.

I do beleeue verily that whom­soeuer the Lord loues not, them hee hates, and whomsoeuer he hates, vpon them abides his wrath and heauy dis­pleasure, till hee bestow vpon them his loue; and therefore I pray you, if you can, shew me what the loue of God is, and I will gladly heare you.

Abig.

The singular loue of God vnto his elect is that whereby he loueth them in himselfe, and hath adopted them in his sonne Christ, before the foundations of the world; and hereto pertaines pre­destination [Page] vocation, the gift of faith, and of the spirit, iustification, regenera­tion, and eternall saluation, with what­soeuer is good, comfortable and profita­ble for them in this life. And here by your patience, it shall not bee amisse to shew likewise the loue of Christ vnto his Church, because we are to fetch our light from his candle.

Ezer.

I pray you do: for I haue both good leasure and pleasure to heare you.

Abig.

Our Lord Iesus Christ being in the throne of glory, yea, being the Lord of glory, disrobed himselfe, and came downe from heauen, and of God became man for our sakes, taking our nature vpon him; endured much mise­ry for the space of 30 yeares & vpward, was as an exile amongst his cruell ene­mies, which reproched, buffeted, blas­phemed, & persecuted him vnto death: besides that, hee suffered the wrathfull displeasure of his Father in his soule, and the grieuous torments of hell that were due vnto vs, that he might free vs therefrom, as it is written: The chastise­mēt of our peace was laid vpon him, & by his stripes are we healed. Esay. 53. Hee was [Page] made a curse for the sinne of man, that so man might in him bee blessed. There­fore neighbour how ought these things to worke vpon our consciences, and to force euery one of vs particularly to say: O miserable wretch that I am, that for my sinne my Sauiour should suffer such horrible punishment? ô sweet Sauiour, how am I bound to praise and thanke thee? Who am I that thou shouldest thinke, much lesse looke on me, or doe any thing for me, seeing that I haue so many waies offended thee? But this is thy mercy, yea thine incomprehensible and vnspeakeable loue, that thou shoul­dest not onely free me from death and damnation, but bring me to life and sal­uation, euen to a better estate then Adam was in before his fall. O the admirable mercy of God, and the incomprehensi­ble loue of Christ, how am I bound vn­to thee? What thankes and praise is due vnto thy maiesty for these vnspeakea­ble blessings? for that thou hast not one­ly freed me from eternal misery, but hast brought me vnto euerlasting happines, and made me one with thee, as thou art one with thy Father, that I might bee [Page] glorified in thee, as thou art in him; & to this end thou hast made me bone of thy bone, and flesh of thy flesh, so that thou art become wholly mine, with all things that belong to thee.

Eul.

O good neighbour consider of this vnspeakeable loue of God and his Son Christ towards his whole Church in generall, and to euery one of his chil­dren in particular, how that the Lord of his free grace hath wrought in vs re­pentance and faith, and hath shed his loue abroad in our hearts, and assured vs of the frée pardon of all our sinnes, and of his euerlasting loue and fauour in his Sonne Christ Iesus our Lord: and hath made vs one with himselfe, & his Sonne, & partakers of his diuine nature, and hath filled our hearts with vnspeakeable comfort and ioy of the ho­ly Ghost, which wee desired so much in the daies of our affliction. And further, hath giuen vnto vs his Spirit, which is the earnest pennie of our euerlasting happinesse; and which doth sanctifie vs daily more and more, and strengthen vs to euery good worke; and hath promised that no good thing shall be wanting vn­to [Page] vs, if we will be obedient vnto him. How ought these things to cause vs to loue God againe, and for his sake to loue one another? seeing that he of his méere mercy hath made vs partakers of such happinesse.

Ezer.

They are happy indeede that haue all these things bestowed vpon them which you haue spoken of.

Abig.

Euery true Christian is in such a happy estate before they can find sound comfort vnto their soules, or be­fore they can performe any duty plea­sing vnto God, or before they can loue their wiues as they ought.

Ezer.

Then there are but few that loue their wiues as they ought.

Abig.

It is true indéed, and more is the pitty. For some loue their wiues for their lusts sake, some for their beau­ties sake, some for their riches sake, some for their friends sake, some for natures sake, & some for necessities sake; because they sée if they should not, it would not stand with their quiet, profite, & cre­dit. But take once away the aforesaid causes, & their loue falles to the ground. If it bee for lust, when that is satisfied, [Page] he rather hates thē loues her, as Ammon did his sister, 2. Sam. 13.15. if for beau­ty; as that vanisheth, his loue decaieth; if for riches, nature, or friends sake; as they lessen, his loue lessens with them; if it be for necessitie, it is counterfaite: or if she winne his loue, as some doe, by her faire language, then it turneth as the winde. Finally, if it be for any out­ward cause, or for all the causes vnder the cope of heauen, without the loue of God, it will bee vncomfortable, vncon­stant, and vnsound: but if it be for the loue of God, though for no other cause in the earth, it wil be vndefiled, comfor­table, continuall, and increase more and more. But all loue else whatsoe­uer that proceedes from the husbande to the wife, and from the wife to the husband, is rebellion against God; and the more a man loues his wife, or the wife her husband, the more they sinne against God. Howsoeuer this may séeme harsh vnto worldly men, yet that which doth ensue will make it plaine; for the more that both husband and wife loue each other without louing God, the more they will seeke to fulfill [Page] their fleshly lusts, though they be neuer so much against God, and his word. Therfore it behoues euery man to loue his wife with such loue, as Christ did his Church.

Ezer.

What manner of loue was that?

Abig.

It was not fleshly, but spiri­tuall, not earthly, but heauenly.

Ezer.

But must he not loue her out­wardly, and prouide such things for her, as are necessary, profitable, and com­fortable, for the preseruing and cherish­ing of her body?

Abig.

Yes, it is the part and dutie of euery man, chiefly of a Christian so to doe, (as I would haue shewed you anon) or else he shall not onely sinne a­gainst her, but against God also.

Ezer.

I pray you now shew, how a man must first shew his loue to his wife, and what is the first fruit of his loue.

Abig.

In the first place, hee must giue himselfe vnto God with fasting & prayer, that the Lord would blesse his enterprises and proceedings; and when he hath humbled himselfe vnto God he must not thinke much to humble him [Page] selfe to his wife.

Eul.

This wil be harsh vnto the most men, and they will hardly, or neuer, bee brought vnto it.

Abig.

But if they will be Christian men, they must do it, and that for these causes. First, because it is not hurtfull, but good and profitable not against the word, but warrantable and comman­ded by it. And lastly, because Christ hath giuen them example so to do.

Eul.

I pray you, if you can, shew these things more plainly.

Abig.

For the first, if you looke from the beginning of Genesis to the latter end of the Apocalypse, you shall neuer finde it spoken against, either openly, nor inclusiuely; and therupon I gather, that seeing it is profitable, it may bee practised in a ciuil and courteous man­ner. And againe, humility is a vertue, and the more eminent place a man is in, the more it doth adorne him, if he be endued with it. And further, though he bee in neuer so high a place, hee is com­manded to humble himselfe to his bre­thren; yea and to make himselfe, as he is a Christian, equall with them of the [Page] lower sort. Now if it bee his dutie to humble himselfe towards euery one, & to make himselfe equall with those of the lowest sort: then much more to his wife. Againe, they are commanded to honour their wiues as the weaker ves­sels; that is, as I take it, not onely to beare with their wiues infirmities, but to submit their mindes vnto them in that which is good, & kindly to intreate them in humblenesse of minde, and to aduance their credit and good name, and to stand in their defence against whom­soeuer that oppose themselues against them. And lastly, by Christs example, they are to be lowly, and humbly to sub­mit themselues vnto their wiues, as he doth vnto his Church and people.

Ezer.

How doth Christ humbly sub­mit himselfe vnto his Church and peo­ple?

Abig.

Christ doth submit and hum­ble himselfe vnto his Church and peo­ple, both in himselfe, and by others. His submissiō is shewed both by his words, gesture, and actions. By his words, when he louingly intreats her to leaue her corruptions, and to accept of his lo­uing [Page] fauour and kindnesse, which he of­fers vnto her as a token of his loue and vnfaigned desire he hath that she should bee at peace with him; and to the end that he might win her loue, hee makes many gracious and beauteous promi­ses vnto her; yea, hee bestowes many rich treasures vpon her, suing & wooing of her, and sometimes when she turnes her backe vpon him, hee turnes his face to her, saying: what ailes my loue, my doue, my vndefiled spouse? when she is sad, he wil make her ioyful many times, when shée frownes, hée will looke vpon her with a chearefull countenance. And againe, he attendeth and waiteth at the gates of her portall, saying: Behold I stand at the doore and knocke, open vn­to me, my loue, my doue, and vndefiled. And moreouer for his Churches sake, which is his wife, he bended his knées, and humbled himselfe vnto the earth: yea, vnto death, and that vnto the most shamefull and horrible death of y e crosse. What baesnesse did hee refuse to honour her? Consider the reproches and indignities he endured, of the paines & miseries which hee vnderwent for the [Page] loue he bare vnto her, and to winne her vnto him againe; and still how he doth send his messengers and embassadours to entreate his Church in his stead to bee reconciled vnto him.

Eul.

One would thinke that these things should cause the heart of man to stoop, and to bend his affections vn­to his wife.

Ezer.

Yes verily, so thinke I too, lit­tle had I thought that any could haue made these things so plaine.

Abig.

If so be you thinke these things so euident, which I a simple woman haue opened vnto you: how much more e­uident then thinke you, should they haue bene, if a godly learned man had had the matter in handling?

Ezer.

Well, séeing it is so plaine as it is, what is the next course that I must take, that there may be peace and conti­nuall loue betwéene me and my wife?

Abig.

After you haue done as I haue set downe, and declared your loue vn­to your wife, you then with wisedome and reuerence, and in a louing manner, must shew vnto her her miserable estate, which she stands in, and the iudgements [Page] of God due vnto her for sinne, that so she may be humbled.

Ezer.

But if I should tell my Xan­tip of her miserable estate, she would be so farre from humbling her selfe, that she would rather be ready to fly in my face.

Abig.

I hope not so. But hearken, I pray you. Men do many times faile in the manner of their directions and ad­monitions vnto their wiues, which is the cause that they profite no more then they do: for commonly in their anger they will tell their wiues of their faults, and that in such a hastie and hare-braind sort as spoiles all: or else whē their wiues are moodie, and troubled in minde; so that it is no maruell that they doe more hurt thē good. The very heathen would not fight nor reproue in their anger; how much more then ought Christians to waite their oportunities, when they may do the most good?

Ezer.

Why, but do you hold then that a man may beate his wife when he is quiet?

Abig.

Nay. Much lesse when he is an­gry.

Eul.
[Page]

There was neuer any that hated their owne flesh, but nourished and che­rished it. Now the wife is the husbands owne flesh, as it is written: They twaine shall be one flesh. Therefore, &c.

Ezer.

Yea, but though he beate her, yet he néed not hate her. And againe, hath not the man as much power ouer his wiues body, as the father hath ouer the child: but the father may correct and whip his child for his fault, and yet loue him too. For it is written in the Pro­uerbs: Hee that corrects not his child, hates him

Abig.

The comparison is not equall, howsoeuer it bee granted that the hus­band hath power ouer the wiues body: yet it is not in that manner as the father hath power ouer the childs: he hath po­wer ouer the wines body for procreati­on, and so she hath power ouer his, and both ouer the childs for correction. So by this kinde of reasoning the wife hath as great prerogatiue ouer the mans bo­dy, as the man hath ouer the wiues. For so saith the Apostle: The man hath not power ouer his owne body, but the wife: nor the wife ouer hers, but her husband.

Ezer.
[Page]

Againe, it is said, that S. Paul did beate downe his own body, to bring it vnder, when it would not bee in sub­iection; from whence wee may gather, that the wife being as the mans owne body, may be beaten, when she will not otherwise be kept vnder, but be checke­mate with him, that thereby she may be brought into subiection to him.

Abig.

By beating, the Apostle meanes not a striking, a flapping, or whipping of himselfe, as the foppish Papists false­ly imagine, but a taming of his body, by abstaining from those thinges which might puffe vp his flesh: and so indeed we grant, that a man in wisedome when hee sees the stoutnesse of his wiues sto­macke, or the pride of her heart, and ra­ging of her affections swell, either a­gainst God or him, then, I say, he is to restraine her from those thinges which might make her more malapert, and hee may then vse such holy meanes as may keepe her vnder.

Eul.

Men, as Abigail shewed, are to loue their wiues as Christ loued his Church.

Ezer.

Yea, but you know, though [Page] Christ loue his Church, yet if it will not be ruled by him, he will correct it, and that sharply: so by your owne reason, is a man to loue his wife; yet if shee will not be obedient to him, he may correct her by Christs example.

Abig.

Howsoeuer it is said that the Lord correcteth his Church if shee will not be ruled by him, he doth not there­by giue example or encouragement, that any man should beate his wife, but it serueth to awe vs, lest we offend his maiesty; neither can any doe it in that manner, nor bring profite thereby, as Christ doth. As for the manner of Christs correcting his Church, it is in loue: but neuer was it heard, that euer any man did beate his wife in loue. And againe, he should doe to his wife as to himselfe; but euery one would account him a mad man y t would beate himselfe. Further, y e Church by Gods correctiō is made better, but the wife would bee made more vnruly and outragious by beating. We are women, & haue some experience of these things.

Ezer.

I thinke you rather speake, be­cause you would not haue husbands to [Page] vse their authority.

Abig

They haue no such authoritie, neither will we for our parts giue them occasion to straine that which they haue vpon the tenters.

Ezer.

I would my wife would giue me no occasion neither.

Eul.

I suppose by your spéech, that you haue had many bouts.

Ezer.

Yea that we haue, till the bloud hath run downe the one of our faces.

Abig.

O lamentable thing to bee heard of in a Christian common wealth betwéene man and wife!

Eul.

But how much the better hath she bene?

Ezer.

Not so much as I haue bene the worse, and shee also was worse and worse rather.

Abig.

I pray you neighbour, there­fore follow our counsell though we bee but women.

Ez.

What would you haue me to do?

Abig.

Suppose now that you had some deformitie on your face, which did dis-figure you so much, y e one would be loath to looke vpon you; and if you could helpe it, what would you do?

Ezer.
[Page]

If that by any meanes I could helpe it, I would presently; and if I could not, then I would couer it, that none should see it.

Abig.

So likewise ought you to deale with your wife, for shee is a speci­all member of your body, yea as hath bene said, shee is as your selfe; therefore as you helpe the deformitie of your owne face, or if you can not heale it, co­uer it, so must you do vnto your wiues deformities. Againe, if you had com­mitted some filthy and abhominable sinne which were not to be named, and there were onely one or two that did know it, what would you doe in such a case?

Ezer.

Surely, if possible I could, I would stoppe their mouthes that they should not vtter it, lest I should bee shamed.

Eul.

Why then, if your wife com­mit not such vgly offences, how much more ought you to keepe silence? and though one or two know of it, to in­treate them to make no words? seeing you haue confessed, that the more vgly and grieuous your offences are, the [Page] more carefull you would bée, lest they should be spread abroad: therefore the more your wiues infirmities are, the more you are to doe the office of a good physition; euen to labour to cure them; & if you cannot, at least to couer them, as it is written: Vpon your vncomely members, put more comelinesse on, the which may not vnfitly bee applied to this matter. Thy wife is one of thy principall members; if she bée vncom­ly any way, put thou more comlinesse on; if shee be not so beautifull, as thou desirest, couer it with contentation; if not so prouident as shee ought, couer that with thy good husbandry; if she bée not so wise, as thou wishest, couer that with thy prudency.

If shee be not so louing as is fit, co­uer that with the skirts of thy loue; if cholericke, couer it with patience: and although shee faile in dutie, which shee ought, yet shée may challenge yours as due debt, as long as shee is your wife you are bound to giue honour to her as to the weaker vessell.

Eul.

If these things were well consi­dered of many men, much strife and [Page] terrible broiles would be left betweene man and wife.

Ezer.

Yea, but I must needs tel you that these things can hardly be digested; for if wee should yeeld thus much to our wiues, they would make starke fooles of vs.

Abig.

No, not so sir, for you shoud see the blessing of God vpon you, which would mitigate the swelling and raging of your wiues affections. I pray you tell me sir, say that you had a soare arme grieuously wounded, or had drunke a cup of poyson, or were sicke neere vnto death, what would you do in these cases?

Ezer.

If I had a soare, I would haue a salue according to the nature and big­nesse of the wound; or if I had drunke poyson, I would presētly séeke a reme­dy to expell it; or if I were sicke néere vnto death, I would aske the counsell of the physition, and follow the same, and the more sicke that I should bee, the more would I make of my selfe.

Abig.

Euen so you must do to your wife; the greater that her soare is, the better your salue must be, and the grea­ter [Page] her wound is, the more must bee your plaister, and the skilfuller surgian is required; and the more her sickenes is, the more carefull & tender you must be ouer her.

Ezer.

Neither paines, care, nor cost should be wanting, if I were in hope to do her good.

Abig.

The captaine cannot promise his souldiers victory, before they fight; nor the physition his patient health, be­fore he minister vnto him: but yet Christ Iesus our captaine hath promised you victory, if that you will be directed by him.

Ezer.

Yes, with all my heart.

Abig.

This then is your precept, that you loue your wife as hee did his Church.

Ezer.

I will try, if that I can win her by kindnesse.

Abig.

That must bee the way, if e­uer you win her, and the meanes where­by you must keepe her being won. Now seeing wee haue proceeded thus farre, if you please I will you shew the causes, as I haue heard of a learned and godly man, wherfore the husband should loue [Page] his wife.

Ezer.

Do so then with a good will, and I would euery cause were a cord to tie mée vnto it.

Abig.

The causes are so weighty, yea euery one of them so mightie, that they may not onely be termed hempē cords, but rather strong yron chaines to tie & bind not onely you, but euery man to his wife, in the vnseparable knot of loue. The first is because she is the creature of God, made of the same matter and na­ture that you are. The second is, bee­cause shee is your wife; and the third is, because shee either is, or may be a Chri­stian. Now for the first, for that shee is the creature of God made of the same matter and nature that your selfe is, you are to loue her, though shee be your e­nimie; as it is written: Loue your enimies; that is, as they are the creatures of God, & made in his image, not for their owne sakes: yet for Gods sake. Secondly be­cause she is your wife: For this cause shal a man leaue father and mother, and cleaue to his wife, and they shall be one flesh. This doth so glue and ioyne man and wife together that no vnkindnesse or wick­ednesse, [Page] (except adultery) ought to se­parate them. The third cause that ought to ioyne man and wife in affection to­gether, is in that she either is or may be a Christian: if that she be, then you are to loue her, for that shee is called vnto the same profession, baptized with the same baptisme, sanctified and renewed by the same Spirit, bought with the same price, partaker of the same hope, faith, and communion of Saints, and of the same graces, and heauenly riches in Christ Iesus, and made heire of one and the same kingdome of glorie, for euer to reigne with God and his Christ, in the presence of his holy Angles world without end. These things I say ought to cause a man to loue his wife, to che­rish, maintaine, and prouide for her like a woman, & to comfort her, as his owne bowels. Now where this true loue is, there wil nothing, that is either necessa­ry, profitable, or cōfortable for the wife bee wanting, if that possible her hus­band can procure it; & I would all hus­bands would marke this. For accor­ding to his loue, will his care be, to pro­uide for her; and after his care, will his [Page] diligence bee to please her; and as hee pleaseth her, so shall hee haue comfort by her.

Eul.

This may serue to reproue the corrupt, proud, & churlish affections of many men, which will rather seeke to crosse them in that which is good and godly.

Ezer.

It is true, and much more are they to blame, that tirannously will rule yea ouerrule, and that without all rule, credit, or honestie.

Eul.

Now I perceiue neighhour, that your name & nature doe agrée well together.

Ezer.

What should I doe? I must needes speake the truth, and that which I haue knowne by mine owne experi­ence; for I haue bene much inclined to offend this way, God forgiue me, and o­thers also, whom I know haue bene twice as bad, as my selfe.

Eul.

The worse they are this way, the worse it is for themselues; for as it is said, the hasty man neuer wants woe, so I thinke I may say, the tyrant shall neuer want a shrew.

Abig.

I would such men would but [Page] a little consider how the Lord doth [...] tigate their authority ouer their wiues, when he saith, that they should honour them as the weaker vessels. And againe, that man and wife make but one body; and againe, that they should draw the yoke equally together.

Eul.

Your wish is very good Abi­gail; for want of due consideration is the neglect of true practise of all duties.

Ezer.

And truely neighbours it comes to my minde now, that the Lord laid these duties of louing & honoring their wiues vpon men, partly because they are stronger and more able to beare and support the infirmities and weakenesses of their wiues, then the wiues are of the husbands. And againe, that the hus­bands should not swell too much with their authority, that they should not make their poores wiues as slaues, but should account of them as themselues. For the Lord knew very well that men are of such natures (for the most part) that if hee gaue thē power, they would stretch it to the vttermost: and therefore he abates their superiority, and makes it in some measure equal with the wiues. [Page] And further he would haue mā to know that this is his dignity to giue honour vnto the woman, lest shee through the loftinesse of his minde should bee vsed crosly and vnkindly.

Eul.

Lo neighbour, lo, yonder comes your wife.

Ezer.

Why how now wife, where haue you bene all this while?

Xant.

Forsooth husband, I haue bene about some speciall businesse, that concerns you and me.

Ezer.

Why didst thou stay so long?

Xant.

I pray you good husband be not offended with mee, and I will tell you.

Ezer.

I am glad, that you are so humble and courteous; if you hold on thus Xantip, I hope that wee shall neuer fall out.

Xant.

I hope that I shall not onely continue, but increase in doing my du­ty both to God and you.

Ezer.

And then I make no doubt, but my loue shall be more and more ex­tended vnto thee: come and sit downe here, and tell me, where hast thou bene?

Xant.

If it shall please you husband, [Page] I haue bene much troubled in my mind since I went foorth, for some iars that haue bene betwéene vs.

Ezer.

And I haue bene much quie­ted and comforted in my mind, wife, since thy comming in, for the peace which I hope shall be betweene vs: but proceede and say one.

Xant.

As I was comming home, I spied a solitarie place, which I went vn­to, & there powred forth my complaints to y e Lord, praying his maiesty for par­don of my disobedience towards you, & al my abusing of you with my tong by railing speeches, and that wee might more quietly liue together then we had done; for I felt such horrible gripings within me, that I thought my heart would haue burst: and then came the trifling occasions of my falling out in­to my minde, which made such horrible broiles and hurly burly betweene vs, the which at y e first I might haue stopt with a patient word; but sinfull wretch y t I was, I rather opened a fountaine, by my railing tong. And thus as I was bewailing my miserable estate, & thin­king what a hell it was, for man & wife [Page] to be at ods, there comes by Maister T, who seeing me all alone, asked me what I did so solitary. I could scarce speake to him for wéeping. He oftē asked me what I ailed, saying merrily it was more strāge to sée me wéepe thē fight; & further askt if we had faln out, & now I had got y e foile? I told him no, we were not falne out, but I was much grieued that we could kéepe no more in; at which words he wondred, and yet reioyced to sée me mourne. And when hee perceiued that I was much afflicted in spirit for my of­fences, he comforted me with these and such like words, saying: Blessed are they that mourne, for they shall be com­forted. Blessed are they that go on their way weeping, for they shall returne, and bring their sheaues with them. And ap­plyed vnto me the swéete promises of God in Christ Iesus, saying, Christ saith: Come vnto me ye that are thirsty, & buy of me wine without siluer. And a­gaine: If any mā sin, we haue an aduocate with the Father, Christ Iesus the righte­ous. And whē I cryed, I haue sinned a­gainst my husbād, & more against God, what shall I doe? what shall I doe? he [Page] would bid me possesse my soule in pati­ence, and beléeue in the Lord Iesus, and take hold of his mercies by the hand of Faith, and then, though my sins were as redde as scarlet, they should bee as white as woolle; and that the Lord tooke no pleasure in y e destruction of sinners; but if they would turne from their euill wayes vnto him, and continue in well doing vnto y e end, they should vndoub­tedly be saued. And when he had som­what pacified my wounded spirit, hee perswaded me to go with him to a Ser­mon. I paused a little, but at last went with him, in a blessed howre I thank my God: for I reaped more pro­fit and comfort thereat, then euer I did at any before.

Abig.

The cause, neighbour Xantip, or rather the fault I may say, hath bene in your selfe heretofore, in that you haue not gone so humbled, and with an vnfeigned desire to know, and doe your duty.

Xant.

I acknowledge it to be so, good neighbour Abigail, and I pray God for­giue me that, and all my other sins.

Abig.

God hath promised to forgiue [Page] all that vnfeignedly repent, of whom I make no doubt, by that I haue now heard from your owne mouth, that you are one.

Eul.

What did y e Preacher handle?

Xant.

He spake of the mutuall duties of man and wife, and of both their duties towards God.

Ezer.

That was most excellent do­ctrine for vs, wife.

Xant.

Yea indeede husband, I thanke God, it was most profitable, and com­fortable, I wished you many a time there.

Ezer.

I thanke God and our good neighbours, we haue bene well exerci­sed here this afternoone also: for I hope they haue done me more good then euer I thought women could haue done to man in that kinde.

Xant.

I thanke God also for it, and I reioyce at it in my soule.

Ezer.

Well wife, here is my hand, and giue me thine, and let vs renew our couenant which wee haue broken with God, and toward each other. And now let vs here vow both before God and our good neighbours, Abigail and Eula­lie, [Page] through his grace to keepe the same inuiolate while we liue.

Xant.

Here husband, here is both my hand and my heart.

Abig.

Blessed & praised bee our gra­cious God for his excéeding mercy now shewed to you both: and I beséech his Maiestie that you may both kéepe your couenant with him, and one with ano­ther while breath is in your bodies; that when it shall be his pleasure to take you hence, hee may receiue your soules and bodies into his glorious kingdome.

Ezer.

And blessed are you, which through Gods mercy haue bene speciall instruments to do vs good; and I with my wife, accordingly as we are bound, will not ceasse to praise God, and to pray to him for you, that hee would of his rich grace preserue and blesse you both, with vs and all the rest that loue the comming of our Lord Iesus Christ, to whom be all praise and thanks for euer. Amen.

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