IT semed vnto the auctour of nature, when he layd y ^e foun­dation of the ages and time that was to come, that all suche beastes, which were sub iecte vnto sicknesses & death, should at one generation and birth bringe forth but fea we yongelynges, to thende their generation might encrease, & endure for euer, & that they of a litle beginninge mighte multiplie and arise vnto an in finite multitude, and of mor­tal thinges obtayne, as it we­re an immortalitie. But al o­ther beastes do indifferently [Page] (without any order or lawe) obeye nature, and geue them selues vnto procreation. And this is, as it were an vniuer­sall lawe, where vnto we do perceaue and see, that al ma­ner of beastes do willingly o­beye, although there be amōg these, that liue in societie, and obserue the holines of matri­mony so vndefiledly, y ^t they may well instruct and teache many thousandes of men the chastitie, the charitie, y ^e fayth, the maner, and the qualitie of matrimony, and in this num­ber are swannes, turtledo­ues, The be­ginning of matrimony. crowes, and doues. But man beynge borne to lyue in company, and in the commu­nion of lyfe, was bounde by the auctoure of nature wyth more exact and streyghter lawes [Page] of matrimonye. Nor he would not, that man vntem­perately shoulde medle with manye women, nor that the woman shoulde submitte her selfe to many men. Therfore he bownde them together in lawfull mariage, and deliue­red her vnto the man, not on­ly for generations sake, but also for the societie and fellow­shippe of life. And this is it, y ^e Gene. ij Moses doth saye in Genesis, that the prudent and wise maker of the worlde sayde: It is not good, that man shoulde be alone, let vs make him a helpe lyke vnto him selfe. And how manye vtilities and profites do spryng and yssue of matri­mony? First as all controuer­sies & debates are remoued and do cease amōg men, whē [Page] lādes be occupied & possessed, The vti lities of matrimo nye. & by the power of y ^e law graū ted & stablished: euē so when y ^e womā is lawfully maried, al such cōtentiōs do cease, which certaynly wold haue growen among men, yf women were cōmon. For some woulde de­sire those, that were beauti­ful and fayre, & suche as were moost mighty and mooste in powre, wold iugde al thinges to be as a reward of their for­titude and strength, in theyr powre and dominion. And he that assayde her, woulde as though he had taken possessi­on, strongly resist, and fyghte for her, as for his owne wife, wherevpon shuld arise enuy, hatred and debate. And man, the which (yf he folow his na­tural affection and appetite) [Page] is a prowd, a fearce, and a desi rous beast to be reuēged, shal finde manye wayes to accom­plishe his luste, and to ensue & reuenge, that he interpreteth to be an iniury, and shall asso­ciate and gather manye vnto him, eyther for feare, or by some benefite inticed, wherby parttakings & sactions shuld fyrst aryse, and afterwardes warre, and cruell battayle, both at home and abroad, as olde auctours do reporte to haue chaunced for women ra uished, as for Helen Lacona, Tindarus and Ledas dough­ter, and for Lucrecia and Virgi­nia Warre through women. Romaynes. And through Caua Iulians doughter, we lost Spayne. In Englande Kyng Henry [...] second king Henry y ^t second was dri uen out of his realme by hys [Page] sonne, for after y ^t he had bene longe in loue with Philippes the Frenche kinges sister, and that she was sente into Eng­land, & maried vnto him, his father being in loue with his fayre doughter in lawe, hys sonne making warre in Scot lād, defloured her. The yong woman at the firste cōmynge home of her husband, opened vnto him, what had chaunced and being moued therewith, draue out his father, & occupi ed the kingdome. I let passe those thinges, that Plutarke doth write in hys booke of lo uely narratiōs. Woulde god there were not so many exā ­ples as geue occasions to eue ry man to write, both of prin­ces, & priuate persons, howe great contention and debate [Page] letcherye hath caused. Thys was to manye a man y ^e waye & occasion to ouerturne king domes & families, & of greate and bitter perils and calami­ties among all nations. But god the inuenter of matrimo ny, & moste prouident father, hauing pitie & cōpassion vpon mankind, hath put a measure to this immoderate luxuri­ousnes, printinge the lawe of matrimony not in paper one­ly, but in euery mans hearte. In the whiche matrimony he hath geuen to al nations (not onely to those, the which tho­rough humanitie & good let­ters are instructed with ri­tes and ciuile customes, but also to fearce and barbarous nations, beyng farre from all good educatiō and customs) [Page] so greate beneuolence & cha­ritie, y ^t they which are maried iduced through loue, will not leaue nor chaūge their mates & whē there is no loue, sham­fastnes doth take place, so y ^e there is no man so farre frō y ^e vnderstanding of mā y ^e is ig­noraūt, y ^t to bea thynge moste scelerate, & worthy to be ha­ted & punished, to seake, or to embrace any other, as lōg as matrimonye indureth. And what a cōmoditie is the wife vnto y ^e husbād, in ordering of hys house, & in gouerning of hys familie & housholde? by this cities are edified & buyl­ded. And she cometh, euen as Gen. ij. god sayth, into her husbādes house, as an helper lyke vnto him self, & as a sure cōpanion continuinge vnto the ende of her life, a partetaker of mirth [Page] & heauines, y ^e mother of their common children, the whiche kepeth hys goodes as her owne, thinkinge none other goodes to be hers but those, & kepeth thē to leaue them to her children, the which she lo­ueth as her selfe. It can not be spoken, from how great a burden, & molestiousnes the mind of man is lightned ther by, the which for the worthi­nes & dignitie thereof, shulde not be molested with such in­ferioure cures. But yet I knowe not, whether all these The edu cation of chyldren thiges may be cōpared with the education & bringyng vp of children, for surely by cer­tayn & true matrimony, they are receaued & taken for oure owne childrē, wherby they be vnto vs the more dearely be­loued. [Page] And charitie willeth them to be nourished, and fa­shioned vnto al kind of huma­nitie and vertue, not only w ^t diligence and cure, but wyth al sollicitude and anxietie. Al other beastes, after that the dame hath nourished them, and that they are once come to a certayne bygnesse, be of nature so instructed & taught that they leaue theyr dame for euer, beynge sufficiente y­nough of them selues to shift for theyr lyuynge, and to de­fende theyr lyues, y ^t one na­turally [...] not beyng better nor worse then the other: nor thē y ^t yōg do knowledge y ^t dame no more, nor y ^t dame y ^e yong. But as man hath of his ma­ker, & that by a certayne sin­guler benefite, most excellent, [Page] reason, and figure of mynde: euē so he hath througe sinne corrupted y ^e seede of vertue, & obserued the lyghte of hys wyt & vnderstandynge. And if he do stande and folow the wayes of his affectiōs, he shal so abace him selfe, that he shal become seruante vnto synne now receaued, & beyng geuen there vnto, how great a beast of a man (a cruell thyng to be spoken) shal he be made then? what obscuritie & darckenes shal grow in him? how vnlike & how farre of shal he be then frō his originall beginning? This obscuritie of mynd and darckenes through doctrine & learnynge maye be cast of, and clarified, and the euyll inclination thereof by good maners & customes amēded. [Page] But this our corrupte & de­filed nature hath nead of sol­licitude, tyme, labour, & dili­gence, yea and occasions must be taried for vntyll it grow, vntill it may better perceaue and vnderstand his admoni­sher, and vntyll it wyll heare and be admonished. And now and then we muste delay and dissemble such vices & fawtes & reserue them vntil another tyme, that they may be taken a waye and remoued with­oute any daunger or peryll. Nor it is not sufficiēt to war­ne hym once or twyce, but often, & nowe & then he must be reprehended & corrected, & sometimes flattered, myng­lynge y ^e were with y ^e sower. And what ende shall there be at laste of reformynge thys [Page] beast so euill & so brutishe, the which doth so oftētimes (euē of it selfe) returne & fall into this silthines? Who woulde take such endles & dayly renu ing paines and labours, yf he thought not the childrē to be his owne? and yet he taketh these paynes with those, the which he trusteth & beleueth to be his by lawfull mariage, furthermore the loue of the parentes doth redounde vn­to their children, & augmen­teth their loue & charitie to­wardes thē, as hatred dothe diminish & extinguish y ^e same, as the fabelles do declare of Medea. Medea, the whiche, after she perceaued, y ^t Iason had forsa ken her, being moued with y ^t iniury, & prouoked with a cer tayne bitter hatred agaynste [Page] her husbande, murdred her owne childrē. And Euobardus Euobar dus. hated his sonne Nero, y ^e which was Emperoure, because he had childrē by Agrippa, y ^t fear­ce & cruel woman. And y ^e loue of the husband & wife towar­des theit childrē, doth fortify & strengthen the loue bitwixt thēselues: for he loueth his e­qual, as y ^e wife herein is, whē she loueth her childrē, whiche are deare vnto their father, as her husband doth, whence they haue a double loue, and strēgthe bet wixt thē selues, & another bending from their children, for we loue those, y ^t loue the thinges, whiche are deare vnto vs. Therefore fa­thers hauing good affectiō & mind vnto their children, re­ceaue thē, & after their possibi­litie [Page] & riches do nourishe thē, teache thē, drawe thē frō vice represse their affections, and stirreth vp the force & strēgth of their reason & iudgement, to thende they shuld vse it, & y ^t al other powres shuld prin­cipally as vnto a quene obeye vnto it. And yet beynge thus instructed. they leaue thē not so nor cast thē not of, nor de­part not from them, as other beastes do, but defend them, embrace thē, & after theyr pos sibilitie adourne thē, nourishe them, & helpe thē. Nor thys beneuolence doth not subsiste & rest in thē onelye, but stret­cheth for the vnto the sonne & doughter in law, [...] and [...], wherof great [...] & reconciliacions haue often­times yssued, and cities haue [Page] had theyr beginninge. This loue doth descende vnto oure neues and cosing, and taketh care for the posteritie. And in that nature, which is partet a ker of iminortalitie, doth re­gard the eternitie, the which throughe generation shal en­sue & folowe, where vnto the Famisies house, the familie, y ^t patrimo­nie, & parentage are constitu­ted & made, the name of the kinred, as it were the note & marke of a certayne flocke re­mayning: y ^e which family ge­uinge it selfe to ydlenes and pride, is no other thinge, but the beginning of al flagitious nes & misihiefe, & for the time it so remayneth, shal neuer be without some mischiefes, cruel, vnquiere, and violente oppressor of other mens libertie [Page] the which taking only a pride of his name sercheth to excel al other trusting in honest ar tes & knowledge. So on the other side, it is a thing moste beautiful, y ^t the youth of that familie or house maye haue a certayn discipline & art of ho­neste liuinge, to be vsed with lawde & prayse: y ^t which their parentes should deliuer vnto thē from hande to hand with their inheritage & name, as a remembraunce of good wor­kes, with domestical and fami liar exāples, to ensue & folow the same. Who can declare y ^t great cōmodities of all those thinges, the which by y ^e gyfte of god we haue obtayned to ouerrunne & finishe this lyfe withal? We are farre gone frō the rites and customes of [Page] beastes, & humanitie hath she wed her selfe garnished with order, lawes, & discipline, the which thinges shuld separate & leade vs frō vice, & place vs in the trade & way of all ver­tue. One Eue was geuen to One mā one wife. one Adā, as one Churche to Christe, as the holye Apostle dothe interpretate it to be a Ephe. v great mistery, as perteyning to Christ & his churche. And one man ought to be the hus­band of one wife, as nature it selfe doth saye: & as the lawe of god better, then the law of nature, & the true expositour of the same dothe teache vs: first by the cōposition of y ^e bo­dies, & by the maner of gene­ration, the whiche by the em­brasing of two bodies is ma­de perfecte, but yet by a more [Page] secrete misterie, for the loue of two is best & without emula­tion, for when two or mo doo loue one thing, it is not with­out enuy, for very hard it is, y ^t one shuld loue two equally, or shew, or els suffer it selfe to be of thē beloued; & he of those two y ^t shall perceau, y ^t he is best beloued, shal waxe insolēt & prowd, as victorious in bat taile, & the other not being so wel accepted & beloued, shall burne as ouercomde with so­row. & enuye his corriuale & fellowe in loue: for other he would possesse the thing seue rally alone, or els be principal in the possessiō therof: where out shuld arise hatred, strife, & trouble in the family, y ^e which thing the fearcenes of man w ^t some great tumulte & pertur [Page] bation of thinges shuld cause, or els through the debilitie, y ^e cōplayntes & importunitie of the woman, which hate none other weapons, trouble shuld encrease, & cause a mans life to be intollerable, not onelye chafing nowe & then with his fellowe in loue as with a strō ­pet, but also with her husbād. This thing is not expediente for quietnes & pleasaunt tran quillitie, the whiche shuld be at home & in the familie, wher vnto euery man defatigated, & with matters of the cōmon welth priuate or exterior we­tied, do draw them selues as vnto some sure port or hauē. But yf quietnes be so vexed & disquieted at home, and all thinges troubled with ha­tred, where shal then y ^e minde [Page] of man tost with so many care full tempestes repose it selfe? Truly a man had rather inha bite among the litigious stri­les of the law, among the tē ­pestes & surges of disputatiōs & in the ieoperdies of peregri nations, thē to returne home to such an vnswete, vnsauery, & bitter life. For in the amitie and loue of many, the one be­holdeth & loketh vpon the o­ther, & not al vpon one, as ser uaunces behold & looke vpō their Lord and mayster. For when two or thre behold one, y ^t is no [...], but riualitie, & coutention, or els a dominion of many vpon one, in the whi­the kind & estate, there is wōt to be enuy, hatred, & trouble, when y ^t the fauour and loue [...] al desired, inclineth to one al­one. [Page] And therfore at y ^e begin­ninge, God gaue to one Eue, Gen. vii one Adā, to be her Lord and mayster. And beinge minded to drowne the world, he cau­sed certayne men & their wy­ues to enter into the arke for the conseruation & generati­on of mankind. But the pre­ceptes & cōmaundementes of god do verye wel declare the strength & force of nature, the which being in vs corrupted by the varie tie of affectious leading vs to diuers & cōtra­ry thinges, is by the celestiall oracles & preceptes restored agayne vnto hys integritye. In Genesis Adā (as it were di­uining) Gene. ii sayd, y ^t two men shuld be in one fleshe, vnto y ^e which wordes the lord our god dyd adde this, y ^e matrimony once [Page] cōsumed & made perfect, they are no more two, but one mā y ^t it might euidently appeare, Note. that true matrimonie cā not be betwene thre or foure, but betwene two onelye. And as oft as god him selfe speaketh of matrimony, he neuer sayth husbandes & wiues, but wife and husband. And the Apost­le. i. Cor. vii. S. Paul to auoyd fornica­tiō geueth counsel, that euery man shuld haue his wife, but he neuer sayeth hys wyues. And truly whē the lord doth inhibite, that men shuld not re fuse their wiues for any cause except it be for fornication, he mat xix forbiddeth the multitude of wiues, for if he mary another Mar. x. he calleth him an aduouterer. Why shuld he be an aduoute­rer, Luc. xvi. that marieth another, his [Page] first wyfe beinge yet alyue, yf it were lawfull for him at one tyme to haue manye wiues? These he the lawes of nature the which in very dede shuld haue sufficed, yf oure maliti­ousnes had lefte oure nature pure and whole, as it came frō the handes of his maker. But being now violated tho­rough vice, & inclininge vnto malitiousnes, the age & time y ^t ensued, found remedies for this infirmitie, as it were cer tayne barres & doores to re­presse vice withal, y ^t it creepe no farther. For the worlde in the fyrst encrease of mans ge­neration, being yet but yong, part of our old & rude elders dyd dwel in caues, and parte whē the cities were buylded, in houses. And at the begyn­ginning [Page] the husband and the wife kept house together, thē were children begotten and borne, vnto the whiche there arose an incredible loue, kind led with the fyrebrand of na­ture. These childrē beyng of age, maried wiues to encrea­se mākind withal, & their chil­drē encreased, by whose mea­nes the loue of the fathers paste on vnto the sonne and doughter in law, & frō thence vnto theyr neues, & all these coupled together by the selfe same loue and charitie, remay ned in one house, beyng parta kers of one fyre, loue makyng althinges cōmon, or to speak more truly one thing onelye. But consanguinitie & affinity crepte in alytle further. & be­yng many in nūber, wold not [Page] depart frō y ^t familye, because they of youth were broughte vp together (for there is no sweter thinge, then of childrē to haue bene conuersaunte & acquaynted) & because they were suche persons, whome they loued as thē selues, they could not be departed, except they shuld haue bene sepera­ted & drawen frō thē selues. And although certayn of thē were remoued & gone, as it were to dwel in another pla­ce, yet that notwithstandinge they oftentimes returned vn to theyr originall house, and were most familiarly conuer­saunt together. But suche as were wyse, and by longe expe rience witty, perceauing that chastitie through the feruent nes and heate of youth was [Page] in great daūger, iudged that such feruentnes & motions of youth, ought by some religiō & lawes to be [...] & repres­sed, for vnto nature it appea­red truely a thing most abhominable to mary other wyth mother, nece, or doughter, y ^e which thing Adā (nature not Gene. [...] beyng yet corrupted) dyd suf ficiently ynough declare, whē that he lokyng vpon his wife sayd: Beholde now the bone of my bones, & the flesh of my fleshe, for this shall man leaue both father and mother, the which he wold not haue lefte, yf he might haue maried her. Necessitie & scarcenes of peo ple coupled brother & syster together. But humanitie by a litle & litle (the world being somwhat more replenyshed) [Page] begā to despise & refuse y ^t kind of mariage, & manye nations auoyded it by lawes, & by re­ligion forbad, y ^t suche as were so nighe of cōsanguinitie and kind, should not marye toge­ther: for it semed vnto thē vn mete, that any such should be coupled together, and that al such mariages shuld be thou­ghte incestious, agaynste all right, & by the auctoritie and wil of the superior inhibited, for whether we beholde hu­mayne thinges, the law, that is the consente of the citezins forbiddeth them, or diuyne thinges, & the maiestie of god forbiddeth thē, so it foloweth that chastitie shuld be in saue­garde within the walles and houses of those, y ^t are of con­sanguinitie, for it was suffici­ent [Page] ynough vnto the simplici tie and innocencye of oure el­ders, to abstaine [...] the thing not wonte to be vsed, vnto whome it was ynough in ti­mes paste to saye, I wil not [...] Quirites. But in the tyme & age y ^t folowed, they coulde not be [...] frō [...] no not [...] manye [...], threatninges, terrours, pry­sons, nor [...] wyth death, so feble are we to goodnes, and so strong & mightye agaynste modestiousnes, nor we do no­thing more coragiously, then to disprayse & contemne ver­tue. And for asmuche as there is no beast, vnto whome con­cord & beneuolence is so profi table, or so necessary to ioyne amitie, & to amplifie loue and charitie withal, as to man, it [Page] is prouided (as Cicero & S. Augustine do write most no­tablye) that menne shoulde take their wiues from other places, and their doughters, theyr husbandes out of their families and houses, wherby great loue should aryse & en­crease, & by such bondes of af­finitie, the one shuld greatlye fauour the other, cōsideryng y ^e therby great frendshyp and kyured shuld ensue & folowe, & that finally both gods lawe and mans shoulde make and knyt vp, as it were a knot of pietie & faythfull loue. And so it is come to passe, that chari­tye, which nature had sprinc­kled thorowout al humayne generation, was restrayned through the affections of the iniquitie of man vnto a feaw) [Page] is now by the meanes of ma­trimony spred abroade, not in one or two houses only, but in cities, kinredes, & nations, y ^e which throughe one sole ma­riage, haue bene reuoked frō sharpe dissentiōs vnto louing and swere agreament & con­cord. But how farre it is law ful or vnlawful to procede in these thynges by the ciuill & canon lawe defined, it is not to be disputed vpon at thys time, but hereafter we shall speake thereof, when that we by the helpe of Christe shall write of the common welthe. But when so great darcknes Of the great be­neuolēce of God. was in the soule of man, and in his wil so great iniquitie, & that corruption was encrea­sed in man by y ^e continuaūce of euyll, it semed good vnto [Page] god to restore his worke, for he sente his sonne, by whome he made the world, to recon­cile vs after to great dissenti­on & discord, vnto the father, and to be the clarifier of oure [...], & an ensample of y ^e woorkes and dedes of lyfe. And he puttinge forthe hys hande, lifted vp mankinde ly­inge vpon the earth and wa­loyng in mire, to looke vp in­to heauen, and to be partaker of the light thereof. And al­though he hadde blowen hys trompet, all they that hearde that celestiall and heauenlye voyce, contemning and lea­uing all other thinges apart, dyd hye them towardes so great and so excellente a bea­titude for them and for all o­ther prepared. For they per­ceaued [Page] and sawe that all such thinges as by humayne arte wisdome, watre, or [...] myght be obtayned and got­ten, and all suche thynges as were spoken of to the Philo­sophers scoles, were [...] of­fered and geuen as it were in to their handes more spede­dely and more purely then e­uer before, whereof there a­rose an incredible heate and feruentnes to folowe Christ, his bloude beyng as yet euen hoate, the whiche in such wise & maner kindled their brestes whome he touched, y ^e the kin­ges & princes of the gentiles stode as they had beue ama­sed, & the capitaynes of great hostes w ^t such as bylong expe rience & vse of thynges were sage and wise, of whome in al [Page] graue and weyghty matters men asked counsell, & al other learned men the which being set in y ^t hyght of all humayne thinges and nexte vnto god, al other beynge vnder them, perceaued y ^t all thynges with greate myght & powre were ouercomed by christen men. Euery man marueiled, from whence such force & strength shulde come, wherewyth so many thousand hartes with one accorde shulde desyre and seke for one thinge, shuld con­fesse one Christe, shuld speake one thynge, and obtayne and come to one ende. They ca­red nether for mony nor yet for their lyues, they sought for no superioritie, they refu­sed theyr owne howses, fami­lies, parentes, kynsfolke, yea [Page] and theyr owne wyues, that nothyng myght let or hinder theyre course, on flacke the victory ouer vice, and the vn­hard reward of vertue. Nor they cared not for any impedi mentes or caredge y ^t doubted not to obtayne by this victori suche infinite rewardes and goodes. Nor they had no leasure in such celeritie of age to think vpō any other thing, beynge thus occupyed and reuished wyth thys hyghe thought and cogitation. But this heat of pietie flowing vn to vs from Christ, as it were from some excellent fontaine, is as careful for other, as it is sure & certayne of it selfe, and is beautified & adorned with singuler prudency & wisdom. But the more that this heate [Page] is kindled, the more this wis­dome doth shewe it selfe, & for gettinge of it selfe, doth pro­fite on her, yf that any thynge may be lacking in such feruēt and aboundant charitie. But surely she hath situate and set her selfe in a stedfalte and a sure place, and beynge full of hope, crieth oute, who shall separate vs from the charitie Ro. viij of Christe? So then he labo­reth for other, and not for him selfe, he sayeth not he ly­ueth, Gala. ij. but not he nowe, but Christe lyueth in him. And so he fulfilleth the commaunde­mentes of Christ, that liueth in him, and obeyeth vnto his will, to ayde and prouide for those, that Christe woulde it shuld be prouided for, that is for his flocke, for the which he [Page] hathe not spared to offer vp his owne life. And therefore when these pietifull maisters and coadiutors of Christe, do [...] xix. remember, what the Lorde aunswered when he was de­maunded of wiues, y ^t some did chasten them selues for the kingdome of heauen sake, & that none other coulde do y ^t, but only they vnto whome the father of heauen gaue it, Paule (leste that anye manne through an vnwyse feruent­nesse of folowynge, or coue­tyng that God hath not geuē him, shuld vnwysely fall into satans secret snares, y ^e which he layeth at y ^e fete of those, y ^e hast thē to y ^e p [...]rfection of life) doth exhort thē wisely to take hede, & to prepare most effec­tuous remedy, for y ^t wherein [Page] is most yeoperdie, & to fortifie y ^e part most strōgly, where vn to they do perceaue their ene my most valiantly and moste stronglye to approche. And yet the selfesame Paule (the which with his ensample pro i. Cor. vij. uoketh vs esteminge al other thinges as vile, beynge bare and crucified to folowe bare Christ and crucified) geueth this counsell, y ^t better it were to marye, then to burne, leste any man should disturbe tho­rough iniury any other mās peace or quietnes, or defyle him selfe with filthy though­tes or dedes. And therefore herbes and rootes are vsed to be geuē vnto some as meat & to other some as a medicine so is matrimonye, the whiche at the beginning was inuen­ted [Page] of god for the procreatiō of children, & is now vnto the luxurious and incontinente persō, as a remedy of so great What mariage is. an euil. Let vs therfore take this for a very fondation and grounde, y ^t matrimonye is a lawful contunction of one mā and one wife, to liue in cōmu­nion of lyfe together all the dayes of their liues.

¶ Of the election & choyse of a wyfe.

OR euer I doo speake of the choise of a wi­fe, I muste re­moue from y ^t mind of those which I do instruct & teache that furye, wherewith they [Page] choose not their wiues, but inuade thē, they marye them not, but rauishe them, and de­ceaue thē, & cōtrarye to theyr willes do take them. Yf the woman were a certayn kynd of merchaundise, peraduen­ture it shuld not seme so vnsē ­bly by all maner of meanes & subteltie to obtayne her: for howe soeuer she were obtay­ned, she woulde serue to that vse, but conslderyng y ^t nowe she shalbe his felow for euer, yf she loue him not (be she ne­uer so fayre, nor neuer so bur dened with riches, she shalbe continually molestious. And what a madnes were it, to be ginne suche a misterye of loue w ^t hatred? Loue is gottē by loue; by honestie & fidelitie, & not by violence. For a tune [Page] peraduenture thou mayst en ioye her goodes, her beautie, & her parētage & kinred, but y ^u shalt neuer enioy thy wyfe. Those thinges are best, whi­che are most cōformable vnto nature, Adā did not rauish E­ue, Gene. [...] but receaued her, deliue­red vnto him by god y ^e father hegaue her not vnto him per force, but y ^t they shuld mutual ly loue one another, he drue y ^e one out of y ^e other, & gaue thē like nature & fashion, to thin­tent that they or euer they were maryed, shoulde seme and appeare to be one thyng, and not two. The iudgemēt of the mynde is the gouer­noure of mans lyfe, the whi­che yf it go not before all our dedes, we shall slyde and fall [Page] into such greate yeoperdies, as we do le daylye chaunce & happen amonge men. They do wel consider, what thinge they should eate or drincke, but whome they do call vnto their frendship, & cōmunion of life (the which are much more hurtefull, or profitable then meat) they care not. So they do loue preposterouslye, or e­uer they know or iudge what they do loue, the which error dothe brynge vnto the lyfe of man more euil & more misfor­tune then can be spokē, wher­by so many and great frende­shippes through cruel dissenti on are chaunged, & loue most vituperiously & shāfully bro­ken, the whiche suche men as by nature and custome could not long endure and cōtinue [Page] inloue, had craftely begon & vnwisely. They shuld first by nature and with reason haue iudged, and then embraced y ^t thinge with loue, or with ha­tred auoyded the same, the whiche yf man ought to do in choosynge of frendes, howe much more diligently ought it to be done in the choyse of a wife, the principal of al amitie and frendshippe, whose name among al other in beneuolēce and loue is most dearest. Epictetus The say­inge of Epicte­tus. a philosopher, of y ^e secte of Stoickes, doth saye, that euery thing hath his eare, so that yf thou take holde there at, thou mayst vse it most hādsomely & cōmodiously. True wisdome is, to knowe the na­ture of euery thinge, and the vse therof. Yf thou whē thou [Page] takest a wife, wouldest thynk vpon thy children, and howe thou mayeste liue with thy wife, thou canste not lightlye fayle in the choyse of her, the whiche (as Zcnophon dothe write in his Economica) ma­keth very much for the felici­tie or misery of mā. For how much y ^e more a thinge is vni­ted & knit vnto man, so much the more it may helpe him, yf it be good, or hynder him, yf it be euill. Those dāmages & hurtes (which are inwardly in y ^e body) are worse thē those which are without: & those of y ^e soule, then those of y ^e body: & likewise menne do iudge of those thinges, which are cal­led good. But peraduēture it shall appeare vnto some that these thinges are not vniuersally [Page] true, for vnto some the losse of their goodes is more thē y ^e losse of their helth. But this thing doeth not arise or happen of the treasure or moneye it selfe, but because they perswade vnto them selues, y ^t to loose theyr treasure is a thing intolerable, & therfore the goodes are not of more estimation, then is helth, but thaffection doth rule in thys thing. And therfore it semeth lesse to some to be dreuen out of his kingdom, then to other some to loose a small portion of his patrimony. Some wil reuēge a word most cruelly, and some other wel buffeted and beaten wil not reuēge it at al. All these thinges do pro cede & come of y ^e soule, y ^e whi­che as most inwardly loyned [Page] knit vnto man, hath more po­wer in him, then the bodye, yea (as Plato thinketh) then man him selfe. If it be then of so great importaunce, what maner of frende thou haue to liue cōmodiously or ineōmodi ously withal the whiche shall none otherwise dwell nor be in the selfe same chāber, bed, nor house with the, but that thou mayest shake him of at thy pleasure how much more then oughteste thou to take hede, when thou choosest thee a wife, the which must cōtinu­ally be conuersaunt with the at thy table, in thy chamber, in bed, in thy secretes, and fi­nally in thy heart and breste. If thou go from home, thou dost cōmit thy house, thy fami lie, thy goodes and thy chyl­dren [Page] of all other thinges the most pleasaunt vnto her: she is the last, that leaueth the at thy departing, & the first that receaueth thee at thy retur­nynge, thou departest frō her with swete embracementes & kisses, and with swete kysses and embracemētes she recea­ueth thee, vnto her thou dis­closest thy ioye and heauines. It is an heauenlye lyfe to be An heauē ly lyse. conuersaunte & in companye with those that a man dely­teth in and loueth. But it is a A calami tye infer­nal, calamitie infernal to be strey­ghted to se those thinges, y ^t a man doth hate, or to be in cō ­panye with those, that a man woulde not be withall, and yet can not be separated nor depart from them. Of this co meth, as we do see in dinerse [Page] mariages so greate ruine, so facinorous and filthy dedes, maymes, & murders, com­mitted by such desperate per sons, as they are loth to kepe & yet can not lawfully refuse nor leaue thē. Therfore in ma riage there are two wayes, y ^e Two wayes in mariage. one leadeth a mā to miserye, the other to felicitie. In the beginning of these, thou must diligently deliberate & cōsult with thy selfe, as Prodigus the Sophist doth saye in the first booke of Zeniphons cōmenta­ris, y ^t he caused Hercules to ta­ke auysmēt, whether he shuld folow vice or vertue. And in asmuche as it is a matter of great weyght & importaūce. let it not be greuous vnto y ^t reader to reade it, for it shall not greue me to declare & o­pen the thing more copiously [Page] & clerely. And seing y ^t electiō Election or choyse is nothinge els but to take a thing mete & cōue­nient to the ende it is prepa­red for, therfore euery one, y ^t must choose, ought to regard the end, & know what thinge is cōuenient for it. It is nede ful also, y ^t he be prudente and wise, for els he cānot dispose it, nor perceaue what is cōmo dious & mete for y ^t end. Nor wisdom is not obtayned nor gottē, but by the knowledge, vse, & experiēce of thinges, & not by folowing of y ^e affectiōs the which do diminish mans iudgemēt. Ignoraūce & the troublesōnes of the mind is y ^e very cause, y ^t yongmen iudge not thinges so wel, as old mē do, they knowe not the busi­nesse of mans lyfe, and beyng [Page] but new and rawe in al thin­ges, they are sone deceaued: & stird with affections theyr mindes by so obfuscate and cloudye, that they can not see what is right, nor how thin­ges ought to be done and or­dred. Therfore the yonge mā Yong mē shuld leaue the care of this e­lectiō to his parentes, y ^t whi­che haue better iudgement & are more free from the agita­tions and motions of al affec­tions, then they are. And in­asmuche as they do loue their childrē excedingly, they wold that their children shoulde be none otherwise coūseled, thē thēselues, for the father (as it nath bene sundry times by manye examples declared) doth in a maner loue his chil­de more, then he loueth hym [Page] selfe. The yonge man muste take hede that folowyng the light iudgement of his owne affection & mind, he chaunge not a short delectation & plea sure into a continuall repen­taūce. We do learne by great & continuall vse & experience Note. of thinges, y ^t the secrete con­tractes of matrimonye made betwene those that be yong, are seldom fortunate & lucky, and feawe to be vnlucky that are made, and stablished by their frendes and parentes. Al the old mariages of the Ie wes and gentiles were made after this forme and maner. The parētes by theyr owne The ma­ner of the old mari­ages. aucthoritye did intreate and finishe vp the matter among them selues, nor it was not lawful for their childrē to dis­sent [Page] or to go backe frō y ^e thing y ^t their parentes had accōpli­shed and done. And yet they are to be admonished to haue an eye and a diligent regard [...] marying of their children, y ^t it may be to their great qui etnes, and that they (asmuch as may be possible) may lyue in iocunditye and pleasure. They muste not haue before their eyes these vayne & foo­lishe honours, nor the enui­ous and vnsure power, nor y ^e vnquiete factions, nor riches the which vnto olde men are wont to be moste acceptable: for that were euen to brynge vnto their children (whileste they fulfill & accōplishe their proper wil & affections) a mi serable and a wretched lyfe, and a burden intolerable. [Page] And yf thou prepare for thy sonne nobilitie, riches, power and dignitie to serue thy cō ­moditie withal, what other thing is that, then to vse thy chylde, as an instrumente of thy cupiditie and pleasure, not doubting to cast thy child into such a deuourynge euill to saciate and fulfil thy filthy desire withal, that he shal not be able to beare it withoute cursyng the, both priuately & apertly. But yf there be any, whether he be olde or yong, that of hym selfe doth not per ceaue, what thys thyng mea neth, let him coūsell with his very frendes and other that are prudēt & wise. Nor at no time he must consente to the opinion of y ^e cōmon people, & specially in this deliberation [Page] choosing of a wife, the which The cō ­mō peo­ple. is the foundatiō of the whole life of mā. Is there any thing more out of tune, more [...]. or more without shape, then the vulgare and cōmon people, called of those that are wise, a beast of mauy heades? And whoso foloweth y ^e same, must nedes be (as it is itself) inwrapped with many euils, & liue as it doth a most wret­ched life. What wisdome can be there, where affections be vehement & readye at the cō ­maundemētes of ignoraūce? What a thing shuld it be, that he (the whiche by choosing of an euil wife is most vnfortu­nateste) shoulde desire me to choose as he did, to what end shuld this thinge come, but y ^t I should intricate my selfe w ^t [Page] like misery, and that he by my cōplayntes shuld defend hys faute throughe the societie & fellowshyp of my mischaunce or take some cōfort of his mis­fortune, cōsideringe the same to be cōmon with other. But let him choose first, & shew me that he liueth a swete and a pleasaunt lyfe, and that he re­penteth him not of his iudge ment, & then let him cal me by his ensample to folow y ^e same trade of liuing. But yf he be punished for his euill election & choyse, let him shew me ra­ther how to flee & auoyde the daunger. If any thing other by prayer, or by vowe should be asked of god, that is cōmo­dious & profitable for mans life, a good wife is chiefely to A good wife. be asked: the which shal make [Page] that, y ^t is prosperous more A good wyfe. prosperous, & aduersiti more easye. But an euill wyfe tho­rough An euyll wyfe. prosperitie waxeth ar rogant & proude, & in aduer­sitie she looseth her courage, so y ^t both in welth & woo, she is intolerable. And therfore the Frenche prouerbe is not withoute a cause cōmended, saying that he can not be wel borne, that is not wel wiued. Socrates doth say, y ^t whoso de maundeth of God a wife, ry­ches, Note. or power, demaundeth as it were licence to playe at dice, or to fight a battaile, for the ende of thosethinges are vncertayne. If a man aske a good woman, the successe & ende therof is certayn, & ge­uen of god vnto man, as a sin guler great gifte, as Salomon [Page] beareth witnes in his Pro­uerbes, saying: House & heri Proue. xix. tage may a man haue by the inheritaunce of hys elders, but a wyse woman is the pro per gift of god. Iesus the sonne of Syrach sayeth: A good and Eccles. xxvi. a vertuouse womanne is a good gyft, & shalbe geuē vn­to her husband, and to those that feare god for a good por tion. But to thintent that e­uery mā may know, what he shuld looke to haue of a womā or euer he choose her, I haue determined w ^e fewe wordes to describe the nature of a womanne, to thende that no man lokynge to haue of her thynges impossible shoulde be deceaued. A man doth cō ­siste of two thynges, y ^e soule and the bodye.

[Page]In y ^t soule there is as it were The na­ture of man. two partes: y ^e superior wher­in is iudgement, counsell and reason, the which is called the mind. The inferior part is, in the which are the motions & perturbations, the which the Grekes cal Pathi. The affec­tions do growe of opinions, the which are more in one, thē in another after the dispositi­on, the customes & vsaunce of the bodye, age, helth, maner, vse of liuing, time & place: the which dochaunge and moue the disposition of the bodye, & consequētly do worke in that part of the soule, that is anne­xed vnto the body, the which we cal the inferior parte, and therefore the affections, as y ^e persuasions of thinges & opi­nions be, are common to al a­ges. [Page] But yet some of thē are of more power in man, then in woman, & contraryewyse The na­ture of women. in woman, then in man. After y ^t nature hath cast the sede of man into the motherly & na­tural place, it incorporateth the same, and yf it find suffici­ent heate, it bringeth forth a man childe, yf not a woman. So that when it wanteth y ^t most excellent, actiue, & liuely qualitie, the woman remay­neth feble & weake, not onely in humayne generation, but also in all other proportion of her kynd, and through suche filthines as increaseth in her (the which y ^t feble heate that is in her, is not sufficient nor able to caste forth) she is lesse of stature, & more sickly, then other be, and of this by & by [Page] (yf she be not greate bellied) she fuffreth her mēstrua: she is time rous also, for it is heat that encourageth the man, & maketh him bold and hardy, and through feare, she is coue tous, & taught secretly by na­ture: she knoweth her selfe to be feble, and nedefull of many thinges, & busye about many trifles, & lyke vnto a ruinous house, that muste be vnderset and vpholden wyth manye smal proppes. And throughe feare she is full of suspition, cō playntes, enuious, and trou­bled with manye and diuerse thoughtes. And for lacke of experience of thinges, of wis­dome, and of knowynge her owne debilitie, she thinketh continuallye that she shall be despised, and therfore in this [Page] feble and weake nature. an­ger, and a desire to be [...] dothe kyndle as it were in flaxe continually. She lo­ueth also to be [...] and well apparelled, because she wolde not be contemned, and as un­potente and subiecte to all ca­sualties on euerye syde: she doth seke where vnto she may leane and staye her selfe. And thou shalte easelye perceaue, that certayne of them do at­tribute vnto glorye thynges of no estimation, as to haue some great man to her [...] boure, or that some [...] and myghtye prince dyd sa­lute her, or call vnto her. I wyll not speake of these [...], the whiche vnto many y ^t woulde be sene to be mooste [Page] strongest are thoughte moste pretious, as of [...]inred, riches beautie & frendes. Of y ^t selfe same feare doth superstition arise and growe, for as wys­dome doth perswade & moue a manne to religion, so dothe vayne feare leade a man to su perstition. Manye womē are full of woordes, partlye tho­rough the varietie of though tes and affections, the which as they succede one another, so they come vnto their myn­des, and from thence vnto y ^t mouth: partly by suspition & feare, lest y ^e by holdyng theyr peace, they be not iudged [...] pable, or that throughe igno­raunce they know not, what they saye. All these foresayde thinges are of nature, & not of the women them selues, & [Page] therfore they are not onelye found in women, but also in such men, as other of nature, or els by the first constitution and making of the bodye, the whiche can not be chaunged, are woman like, or become such through age, as children and aged persons, or by some other casualtie or chaunce, as they that are longe diseased both in minde and bodye, nor yet al women haue not these fawtes in lyke sorte & maner, for there hath bene, & are yet not a few, which are of a more stronge and constant mynde then many men be. And ma­ny such are spoken of among the gentiles, as Cleobulina, Constāte women. Hypparchia, Diotima, Lucretia, Cornelia graccorum, Portia, Che lia, and Sulpitia. And amonge [Page] vs there are innumerable [...], vnto the whiche nother Athenes the talker, nor Rome the conqueroure maye be cōpared. Nor Christ wold not that euen in our time we should be without an exāple, the whiche shulde flowe & de­scend vnto our posteritie, left and exhibited vnto vs by Ca Catha­rine quene of England tharine y ^e Spaniard Quene of Englande, and wyfe vnto Kynge Henrye the eyghte of moost famouse memorye, of whome that maye be more truelye spoken of, then that, that Valerius wryteth of Lu­crere, that there was in her fe minine bodye a mans hearte by the error and faute of na­ture. I am ashamed of my selfe, and of al those that haue redde so manye thynges. [Page] when I behold that woman so strōgly to support & suffer so manye and diuers aduersi ties, that there is not one (al­though he were wel worthy to be remembred & spoken of among our elders, that with suche constancy of mynd hath suffred cruel fortune, or could so haue ruled [...] fe­licitie, as she dyd. If suche in­credible vertue hadde fortu­ned then, when honor was the rewarde of vertue, thys womā had [...] the bright­nesse of the Heroes, and as a diuine thynge and a godlye sente downe from heauen, had bene prayed vnto in tem ples, although she lacke no tē ples, for there can not be e­rected vnto her a more am­ple or a more magnificente [Page] temple then that, the whiche euery man among al nations marueylinge at her vertues, haue in theyr owne heartes buylded and erected. But these thinges, the whiche are nowe knowen vnto all men, shal be hereafter worthelye & diligentelye declared. These thinges before rehersed we­re spoken to this intente, to declare that as man can not be chaunged, nor vtterly deli uered of his affections, so let no man hope to chaunge a wo man frō her proper & natiue nature: make her better he may. but he shal neuer who­ly adnichilate her assections, for as it is not in him to make of a woman no woman, so it is not in him to make of a mā no man. And breuely to saye, [Page] a man shall be continuallye a mā, that is, a feble beast, impo Man. tent, mutable, subiect vnto in firmities & affections, incly­ninge to euill, the whiche by learning may be amended, & empayred by euill customes. We must beare with these af­fections in woniē, as we bear with them in other our fren­des, except we do intende to auoyde al cōpany, & liue soli­tariously in wildernes. And the affectiōs of womē oughte more reasonably to be suppor ted & borne withall, then the affections of men, the which are fearce, & can hardly be ta­med, or ruled, and thoroughe a false spies of libertie, y ^t whi­che doth teache thē, they re­fuse & disdaynfully cast of the bridle. But as women are [Page] farre more weaker then mā, so they are farre more meke and humble: therefore thou mayste brynge them vnder, and rule them other by man­lye power, or by sharpenes of witte, by wisdome, or by the longe vse and experience of thynges. And it is muche more greuous to suffre an e­uill mayster then an euill ser­uaunt. And truely a woman, seing that she is vnder the do minion and power of manne, ought to be suche a one, nor we shoulde not mistruste, but that the diuine sapience hath touched all thinges strongly from one ende to another, & Sa. viij. doth order them most louing lye. The workes of God are wōderfull & worthy to be ho­nored, no man can reprehend [Page] them, for that were abhomi­nable, nor no man shoulde so searche them, to iudge them, Note. for that can not be done with out great temeritie, or maliti ous impietie. We can not cō ­prehende the inscrutable and great reason of gods counsel. But yet we see certayue thin ges (as Paule sayeth) as it i. Cor. xiij. were in a glasse, the which do suffice to passe ouer this oure peregrination, of the whiche we may take a [...], that man shuld not, will, nor wishe a woman to haue any other af fections or conditiōs, altheu­ghe they might channge thē. For yf the woman were ro­bust and strong, both of mind & body, howe could she suffre to be obediente and subiect to him, y ^t were no stronger then [Page] her selfe? would she not waxe insolent & proude, hauynge in wil to rule both house and houshold, & to striue peraduē ture with her husbande for y ^t maistery? who could kepe su­che a bold peace at home, but y ^t she woulde be abroade? yf she be prodigall, she will neuer saue that her husbād gaineth the which sauing is for a mās houshold, a thyng most neces­sary. If she neglect or litle re­gard small thinges, how shall she kepe the instrumentes of her house, y ^e whiche are made of manye small peeces? howe shall she kepe her housholde stuffe, among the whiche are manye vile thinges worne, destrued & brokē? who wold take vpon him the office and charges of a house? or the of­fice [Page] of a cooke? who woulde nourishe & bring vp childrē? what a torment were it for a man to do those thinges? a man wold rather leaue all, & dwel in a desert, then to dwel in such misery and bondage. The loquacitie of the woman so it be with measure, is now The lo­quacitie of wemen & then a pleasure vnto a man weried with publike and pri­uate matters, for thē also she learneth her childrē to speak, & other thinges conueniente for that age, to the which the nobilitie of man wolde not in­cline. Furthermore she prepa reth and seeth, that all thyn­ges Cleanli­nesse, be cleane and nete, the which thing is not only com­modious for the life of man & profitable to refreshe his spy­rites withal, but also for hys [Page] helth, the which is more (thē can be wel expreste) offēded, and noyed with vnclendly­nes, nor that witte doth not appeare to me to be cleane, y ^t is nouryshed amonge filthy­nes. The enuy and emulation that is among womē (so that it excede not) doth so sharpen their manifolde vertues and qualities, and the domestical diligence and custody of their behauour, that they nother speake nor do, whereby they maye be blamed or suspected. Nor superstition in a woman is not intolerable, so that it be not so anxius that true re­ligion be therewith extingui shed. Nor I do not commend that woman, the whiche doth not of a greate carefulnes she hathe vnto religion incline to [Page] superstition, except she be one of the absolute and perfecte sort of matrones. These be the inclinations of women, the which may be bowed vn­to that, that is good, as the inclinations of men maye, as hereafter shal be declared. In y ^e meane space there are none in this nature to be refused, excepte thou wilte none, and had deste rather lyue alone withoute anye companye at all. The ende of matrimonye is to haue chyldren, and to The end of matri­mony. lyue together, and manye do erre mooste [...] in bothe. Some there be, that force not, of what sorte of women they gette theyr chil­dren, when that they the whyche other by fortune, or by the gyftes of nature are [Page] more excellente then other, shuld diligently take hede. y ^t Note. they cast not so noble sede in­to euill grounde, & that it be not corrupted with some euil & naughtie qualitie. For we see that diligent husbandmen doo diligentlye take hede to choose out that groūd which is most apte and conueniente for their sede, leste they loose (yf the grounde beynge euill and naughtes brynge for the euyl corne) both coste and la­boure, and so much the more they do sorow the thing, how much the goodnes of y ^e sede dyd put them in good hope & comfort. To this is ioyned, y ^t the more tenderly the father loueth his chylde, the more it greueth him, that he shoulde take any incurable vice of the [Page] mother, the whiche thynge comyng by her, should gr [...]ue hym not a lytle. Agayne of what [...]reare importaunce is it to liue together? Nor the­re is nothynge more tedious nor more greuous vnto man, then by the waye to be in com pany with an euyll and a foo­lishe companion. And it were a great deale better to liue a­lone, then with an euyll man: and to playe with a whelpe, then to reason w ^t a focle. O what a madnes were it then, not to thinke it to make any thynge at al to the matter, of what nature & qualities she be, with whome thou muste both lyue & dye, yf perchaūce she be molestious, or other­wyse vnto the, then though­tes? As touchyng the chylde [Page] two thinges are to be wayde The childe. and considered, the body and the minde of the woman, and that her body be not to farre out of fashion. The magistra­tes of the Lacedemonians called Ephori, cōdemned king Ephori Archidamus, because he hadde maried a wife of a lowe sta­ture, whose children shoulde not sufficientlye ynoughe re­present the person and digni­tie of a kinge, althoughe this thinge be not of suche impor­taunce, that a man shuld ther fore refuse his wife, so that she haue sufficiently ynoughe all other qualities. For we do see, that suche short and defor med women bring forth most beautifull and goodlye chil­dren. We shoulde rather take bede, that she be not infected [Page] with some infirmitie or stran­ge disease and sicknes, y ^t whi­che y ^e phisitions do call here­ditarie, and do procede from the parentes vnto their chil­dren, of the which some there be most filthy, letting the due tie and office of life. These are more diligently to be eschued then those whiche are not so horrible and filthye. And yf thou thy self be infected with anye suche infirmitie. I wold thou shouldest dispose thy self to liue chaste withoute sinne, for as it is a thing most swete and delectable to haue chil­dren, so it is verye sharpe and a discomfortable thyng to see them oppressed wyth gre­uouse infyrmityes and disea­ses, the which (yf it were pos­sible) we would rather desire [Page] to haue and to suffer our sel­ues, then with our so greate payne and heauines to se thē in our children. And therfore we oughte to consider & take hede, y ^t our myndes be sound, and that oure contagiousnes nor vice, nether by nature nor by custome do infect our chil­dren. I saye the selfe same by the man, for this is the office and duetie of a good man, to be contente with his misfor­tune and chaunce, & not to let it creepe forth to infect other. If we vse suche loue & chari­tye vnto oure frendes, that they in no wyse, nor maner be not infected wyth oure infirmytyes, howe muche more shoulde we be studious towardes our owne childrē? And fathers thus counseled [Page] do vse to mary their children Note ye yong men for yonge men will heare no suche counsell, for the more madder they be, the more wi­ser they thinke them selues. And that is the chiefest poynt of all madnes, to thinke hym self wise. Unto these thinges adde this, y ^e thy childes mind be not throughe education & maners contaminated, for y ^t thing is very hurtfull for thy sonne, and pestiferous for thy daughter, the which beynge nourished and brought vppe with their mothers, obeye vn to their counsels and studye in word and dede to ensue & folowe the same. And as for the stocke and kynred, there neadeth not in this consulta­tion of childrē to be any great sollicitude or care, for the chil [Page] dren do folowe thee; and not the woman. Thus muche we haue spoken of children. Let vs now speake of the cōmuni­on of life, wherin must be con­sidered thinges bothe good & euill, profitable and vnprofi­table. Loue whereof amitie Loue. dothe take her name, dothe growe of this opinion, y ^t the thing is good and fayre: and this is the knot of amitie, the which once taken away, ami­tie fayleth. And therfore true and durable loue, is onelye a­monge True lo­ue where those that are good, amonge whome there is but one constante rule and maner of liuinge. But the euill vni­ted and coupled together w ^e an euill intent and desire are no longer frendes, then that desire endureth, for yf that [Page] vanyshe awaye and fayle, the force and strengthe of theyr loue and amitie doth decaye, for the knot that knit fast it to gether is remoued. And therefore we muste consider both the goodnes of the mind and of the body, and whether suche thinges as chaunce and happen vnto man of the exte­rior thinges, be good after y ^e mind of the Peripatikes, are euil or cōmodious or incōmo­dious after the mind of y ^e Sto­ickes, but I labor not greatly in these thinges. In the soule are these, sharpnes & dulnes, swiftnes & slouthfulnes, sub­teltie The thin ges of y ^t soule and body. & simplicitie, malignity & goodnes, helth & infirmitie, inclinatiō to vice and vertue variablye, and suche thinges which are gottē by vse, as ar­tes, [Page] knowledge, rudines, wisdom foolishnes, and all vertues & vice contrary vnto these. In the body are these, age, helth, stature, for me, strengthe, and beautie. The exterior thyn­ges are these, kynred, fame, ri ches, dignitie, grace, and con­dition. I haue reckened vp e­uen sufficiently ynough these qualities for thys my trea­tise, because I haue no place here to intreate of thē more largely. These thinges of the body maye be easelye percea­ued and knowen. But that y ^t is inwardlye in man so mani­foldely inwrapped & couered is obscure & darcke to be vn­derstanded, the whiche canne not be learned nor perceaued more or lesse, but by the exte­rior actes, as some certayne [Page] dedes and workes are mani­fest tokens of the passions of the mind, and fome other ob­scure and confuse. I will not speake of the tokens & signes of Philnomi, but I wil speak more properly and more apt­ly as touchinge nature and y ^t common wisdome of manne. The goyng, sitting, restyng, the countenaunce and eyes, the motion of the whole bo­dye and the sownde of mans voyce are but light & feble sig nifications of a mans mynd? The more certayne tokēs are mans maners and customes, among the which his speache How the affections maye be knowen. and cōmunication is the prin­cipall, declarynge not onelye mans nature, but also his af­fections, as thinges proce­dinge from them bothe. The [Page] prouerbe dothe saye, looke what the man is, such are his wordes & cōmunication. And Socrates when that a certayne yonge man was brought vn­to him by his father for to learne, sayd vnto him, speake that I may know thee. For a wise man shall more clearelye know the mind of a yong mā by his cōmunicatiō & speache, then by y ^t outward gestures, or proportion and making of the bodye. By the speache we perceaue the quicke senten­ces, whiche procede of the witte, and the vse of a mans communication, as it were a certayne education, and how chaste, how shamefaste, howe graue, howe sober, howe mo­deste, howe benigne, or els howe dishonest, how vnsham­full, [Page] howe lyghte, howe inso­lente, howe arrogante, and howe tardious he is, for such is the fontayne from whence this riuer runneth and is de­riued. In all other actions of the lyfe, some eftesones and incontinentlye do shewe euen to those that are most rudest and dulleste their intentes and mindes, for the disdayn­full is often angry, the conten tious taketh occasion to saye agaynste the obstinate wyll geue no place, but with bitter and fayned laughter, or wyth euyll and disdaynefull silence stande in hys owne conceyte and opinion. But she that a­mong straungers can not re­frayne nor brydle her affec­tions, dothe declare her selfe [Page] to be vnruly and of mind dis­solute, and that she wil not be gouerned, nor haue no re­spect to those, that see her, or that do speake of her. Those signes that procede of loue or hatred, are somwhat obscure and vncertayne, as those be, y ^t delite or displease. Euerye man deliteth in that he wyl­linglye doth, and desireth to haue it familiarly with him, & hateth those thynges that he coueteth to be farre from him. Plato most nobly & moste wiselye woulde that the ma­kers of the lawes, shuld geue Makers of lawes. and applye all their studye, y ^t the citezins might accustome themselues to delite in good thinges, and hate y ^t is euyll. For yf they mighte once ob­tayn this, a fewe lawes wold [Page] serue the citie. For euerye ma might then carye about hym a most iust lawe, that is a mo­derate mind & a well institu­ted. The delectatiōs do shew thē selues with the senses & felinges of the bodye, & other by experience and practise do shewe and declare the end of thē to be in the minde of eche one. It muste be considered, what euery man doth desire to he are, see, touche, smel and tast, what cōmunication doth delyte hym? what bookes? what cōpany? what cōgressi­ons? what pastymes and plaies? what mightes? what rayment? what ornamētes? Nature doth desire nothing so muche as that, that dothe resemble it, nor abhorreth, nor yet auoydeth nothinge so [Page] much, as that, that is vnlike it. And so we maye well per­ceaue, y ^t suche is the inwarde minde, as the exterior & out­ward thinges be, wherin mā deliteth. Of this do loue, ha­tred, amitie, cōuersation, ene­mitie, & to flee auoyde & some mens cōpany arise, & are con­firmed. But first and mooste principally mens mindes are vnited & knitte together by a certayne secrete consente & similitude of nature, other for the respecte of profite, or by some casual temeritie, as whē menne mete together in one scole, or in one wagen or ship, some other by the waye, or in warfare, or in one office, or at one banket, or by some other necessitie. The firste of these or the most parte are stable & continuall frendes, the other [Page] as longe as there is any pro­fite to be gotten. The thirde do cleue best together, if they be geuen to one maner of stu­dye, or yf they finde in eche o­ther, wherin they maye haue delite & pleasure. For yf they be geuen to diuers and con­trary studies, nor finde not in thē selues y ^t dothe delite and please thē, thei do sone forsake one another. By these thin­ges we may somwhat behold & see y ^t blind ambages & circu­ites of our hertes. For euery mā calleth vnto him, & grede ly doth retayne & hold y ^t, that is most likest vnto him, or els through a certayn cōtagious­nes, or some familiar cōuersa tiō he becometh like vnto it. For we do read in y ^e holy Psal mes, y ^t with y ^t holy thou shalt [Page] be holy, & with the innocente & the elect, thou shalt be elect & innocent, and with the per­uerse thou waite be peruer­ted. Therefore we oughte to regarde and take good hede, what cōpany she doeth vse w ^t whome we do intende to ma­rye, and howe longe she hath haunted their cōpany, & whe­ther Cōpanye that by the instinct of na ture, or by any other impulsi­on she associated her self vnto them, for suche a one through conuersation wil be like vnto thē. And the mayde se ruaun­tes Maydēs. do oftentimes open & de­clare the qualities & conditi­ons of their maistresses, as y ^e olde saying is: such maistres suche maydens. And as Plato saith, such are y ^t whelpes. For it is verye like y ^t she, in whose [Page] hande it is to call, whome she lusteth, will cal her, the which is most agreable & conforma­ble vnto her cōditions & na­ture. And being long conuer saunt together, their vices or vertues, or els their conditi­ons & fashions will creepe vn­to thē, the which thing is the more easely to be done, as e­uery one doth conforme him selfe vnto his nature, whome he doth intend to please. And therfore those maidēs ought not to be considered, that do often chaunge & departe or e­uer their mindes can be kno­wen, or with their euill ma­ners do infect other. Nor thei are not to be wayed y ^t dwell farre from their maistresses, but they only that haue long continued with thē, whose la [Page] bour & seruice about some bu sinesses they haue vsed, & al­thoughe they be not vicious, yet they may hurte the good name of those, that be honest. Other there be y ^t are vitious the which must be diuersly cō sidered, for it may be, that she knoweth no such vice, or that she knoweth it. Or it must be serched out whether she may knowe it, and yf she knowe it, men must enquire how profi­table the vse therof is, & whe­ther it may commodiously be left or no, or whether that any other man can do the same, & whether she had rather, y ^t he as of necessitie should do it, & agayne whether she be fami­liar with him. All these thin­ges wil sone declare what wil folowe, what she loketh for, [Page] what she woulde, & what she deliteth in. That womanne which doth gladly haunt the cōpany of fatte & well likinge men, but ignoraunte and vn­skilful of any honest art apper teyning vnto women, or that doth gladly talke with suche inuitinge him to her table, what should a man beleue or saye that she loketh for, but to do euill? Men by the life that The lyfe that is paste. is paste, do take aknowledge of the life that is to come, for the force & strengthe of a cu­stome is great, and howe she hath vsed her self with yong men, with maydens, with ser uauntes, & how she hath sup­ported both good & euill for­tune, yf euer she proued them that is prosperitie mekelye & equally, or fearcely & impotētlye [Page] aduersitie strongly & mo­deratly, or desperatly and ab iectly. Pietie and religion is a secrete & a hidden thinge, & Pietie. knowen of God onelye, vnto whome it perteyneth both to reward & to punishe, and it is no mans part to iudge therof nor Christes wil they should, as a thinge vnto his iudge­ment only reserued. But yet his iudgemente is not lighte iudgemente vnto those, y ^t do gladly speake of God and his holy word, & heare it without any arrogancy or ostentation How the worde of god shuld be read. of witte, or to be honoured of other, but with reuerence & submission, that through the preceptes & cōmaundemen­tes therof, both she and other might learne to liue well and vertuously. Nor to speake or [Page] commen of exterior thinges, pertayning to the actes and dedes of the body do in suche wise opē religiō, as to speake and reason of y ^e inward thin­ges, & of those that do eleuate and exalt the mind vnto god. The first be, as to dispute and reason vpon fastinges, & the Fastyng. number of prayers, of vowes and of holy peregrinations. And notwithstandinge that fasting and prayer are verye good thinges, & that good & deuout women shuld oftenti­mes practise and vse thē, yet in asmuche as the euill maye like wise vse thē, they do not clerely shew and setforth the true & sincere religion. But to speake of him that is iudge both of the quicke & the dead, & of him that beholdeth the [Page] actes and dedes of men, & of the fugacitie of life, of the va nitie of those thinges, which men desire, of the contempte of honour, riches & dignitie, of the care that God hath to defende vs, sustayne vs, and to kepe vs, of y ^e loue of Christ towardes vs, of our mutuall loue and charity, of our ayde and helpe vnto the poore, of our loue & honour vnto our husbandes, of the rule and bringing vp of our children & seruauntes, of deathe, of the paynes of the sinful, of the e­ternall felicitie, and of those that are vertuous and good, are more euidente promises and witnesses therof. And of these thinges we haue com­pendiouslye intreated & spo­ken Dissimulation. of. Dissimulation in all [Page] these thinges is sone speied & perceaued, or els it endu­reth but for a season, and oftē times euen sodenlye it ope­neth it selfe. For why? a mās mind beinge set and disposed to dissemble, doth easelye euē of it selfe returne to hys pro­per nature. Let vs therfore nowe returne vnto our pur­pose, and speake of all those thynges the whiche we haue set in the soule, in the bodye, and in the exterior and out­warde thynges, for whose cause we haue somewhat di­grest vnto the thinges that we hitherto haue spoken of. Pietie is the head of al thin­ges. She that is pitifull do­eth neuer euel, nor any thing that may be iusiely rebuked. Thys is the true and natiue [Page] iustice, of the whiche the olde prouerbe doeth saye, that it embraseth all vertue. But the wycked womā at no time doeth anye thynge well, but when she iudgeth it to be for her owne vt ilite and profite. So my preceptes shall haue an eye, and regarde those whiche are not wycked nor perfectly pitifull, for there is not one that is perfectlye pi­tifull. For Paule doeth saye, that he doeth runne and la­boure, i. Co. ix. yf by anye meanes he maye optayne and compre­hend. But a great and a well growen pitie is accepted and counted for an absolute and Unchasle women. perfect pitie. Unchast womē are intollerable, what wyse man can suffer any suche, ex­cepte he be wytles? Salomon [Page] sayeth: he that expelleth a Proue. xviij. good woman, expelleth a good thing, and he y ^t kepeth an harlote is a foole, and vn­wyse. What loue can a man haue to suche a woman? For the Lorde sayeth, that she hathe violated the mistery of matrimonye. And yet they that amende & returne from their enyll life, oughte not to be numbred among the euel, in asmuche as they haue tur­ned theyr euyl lyfe into a bet ter. She is not muche vn­lyke a shameles woman, that beynge naturallye inclyned to euyll doeth not geue her diligence to erect it, but folo­wynge her naturall pleasure and desyre, doeth by an vse and custome kepe it vnder, and by softe and gentle in­treatynge, [Page] nouryshynge of the same, doth augment and increase it. And so it chaun­seth that daye by daye, she ta keth more pleasure & more in it, when that it were farre more conuenient to represse it, and by good motions and exercises to wynde & tourne it to better. Of y ^e which Ouide not withoute a cause doeth speke, saying. She y ^t for fear committeth not the faute, is an aduoutres, in asmuche as she desyreth it. And this wo­man is much worse, then she that declareth her selfe to be an open harlote: for amonge these there maye be founde that geue them selues to ho­nesty, the whiche perchaunce were led to dishonestye not by necessitye (for there can be [Page] no necessitie to doe euyl) but by some appearaunce or spice of necessitie, withoute the whiche manye myghte lyue more honestlye. Nor no man can lyue pleasauntlye with her that is euyll spoken of, nor haue amitie or anye con­corde with her, that is not naturally and stedfastly wit­ted. And what thynge is more intollerable or more greuous to a wyse man, then to supporte or to suffer a foo­lyshe companion? And in as­muche as to lyue together, doeth not onelye consiste in confabulation and wordes, but in all other thynges that pertayne to the lyfe of man. Therfore it is to be con sidered and wayed, who it is that wyll be maryed, and [Page] whether he be sharpe or dull What thynges are to be considred in hym y ^e wyll be maryed. witted, what his customes and maners be, whether he be peaceable or angrye, ve­hement or softe, impetuous, fearefull, a dronkarde or an abstayner from wyne, a nyg­garde or prodigal, a wydowe man, or whether he hath ben maryed or no, hauynge chyl­dren, or withoute chyldren, howe and by what occupati­on he lyueth, vpon hys lan­des or by other gayne, whe­ther he be an occupiour or a craftes man, learned or vn­learned, a magistrate or a pri uate persone, of what age, of what health, and strength of bodye of and what stature.

With these thynges the com modities & incommodities of the woman muste be confer­red. [Page] For why a dull wyfe is nothynge meete nor conue­nient for a dull husbande, nor an vnwyse woman for a wise man. Who shal rule the fami­lye? Who shoulde nouryshe and brynge vp the children? Yea, what chyldren shoulde these two brynge forth?

Verye asheades, or yf they be proper and goodlye, they shall for lacke of good educa­tion become dull and astoni­ed. And yet ther shalbe a bet ter agrement amonge these, then betwene a wyse man, and a dull or a foolyshe wo­man. Yf thou marye a foolish woman, as manye men doe, because she is fayre and beu­tifull, what matter made it, whether thou haddest a faire ymage of Phioia, or suche a [Page] wyfe? For after that thou hast once satisfied thy filthye desyre, thou shalte finde thy selfe in miserye. For who shal gouerne thy house? Wyth whome shalt thou haue com­munication? Who shall loke vnto thee when thou art di­seased? Who shall comforte thee with wordes in thyne anguyshe and payne? What companye shalt thou haue in aduersitie? Who shal reioyce with thee in thy prosperitie? And throughe the dulnes of the minde, they come to vyle thoughtes vnmeete for the reasonable soule, and draw­ing their husbandes to their proper affections and costu­mes, they vtterlye do blynde them. We reade in the holye Bible, that the chyldren of [Page] God perceyuynge the dou­ghters Gen. vi of men (before Noes fludde) to be beutiful & fayre, toke them to theyr wyues, the whiche thynge moued God to drowne man kynde. God dyd punysh this thyng because that wyse men, and throughe vertue the chyl­dren of God, dyd not choose them wyues confirmable to their vertue, but tooke the fleashlye doughters of men, the which dyd drawe the ce­lestiall spirite to earthly and vyle thoughtes, tournynge the spirite to fleash, and from quietnes to the motions of the affections. And therfore Gen. vi God doeth saye: my spirite shal not continue in them for euer, for they are but fleashe. And yf thou marye for her [Page] ryches, or for kynred sake. A ryche wyfe. The foolisher, or the more withoute iudgement she be, the more insolente and the more intollerable she wyl be. She that is craftye and sub­tile, A craftye wyfe. doth cumbre hym verye sore that vnaduisedlye doth intreate her, and doeth not a lytle trouble hym that is wyse. The poore man hathe The pore mās wife nede of suche a wife as doeth brynge competente ryches with her, or some sufficient occupation where with she maye sustayne and vpholde her selfe with all. But to him that hath sufficiētly ynough to mayntayne hys familye, she that is apte to learne suf­ficeth, the whiche he may ea­selye infourwe and fashion to hys owne maners and cu­stomes. [Page] Pride, the very mon Pryde. ster & enemy of quietnes, is a­mōg al other vices of y ^e mind, most to be exchued and auoy­ded. It breaketh loue & bene­uolence, with all coniunction & concord, mingling y ^e swete­nes which shuld be principal­ly in matrimony with all bit­ter sowrnes. The vices whi­che do yshue oute of pride are these, arrogancye, fearcenes, wrath, fastidiousnes, & con­tēpt, the which to be borne or suffred are most greuous ty­rannes. But euerye man (ex­cept he looke wyselye aboute him) maye easelye be intrapte in the signification of thys vice. Some women there be, the which being fearce vn to straungers, are vnto their [Page] owne most gentle, and suche ought most dearely to be desi red and beloued. Such were those noble women, Penelope, Lucretia, Cornelia, and Portia, the which vnto their husban­des behaued them selues as handmaidens, & towardes al other kepte their estate and dignitie, and their chastitye most strongly: being prompte and readye to washe awaye from that, were it neuer so litle a spotte or blemishe, euen with their owne bloude. But yf she shoulde vse suche pryde towardes her husband, there shoulde ensue greate vnqui­etnesse and trouble. Suche a womanne maye be thus knowen, when that throughe the zeale of chastitye she is [Page] vnto all other intractable, nothyng regardyng her pro­genye, her beautifulnesse, or riches, and this shall be the good wyfe that we seake for, and the best keper of woman­lye honestie. But yf she tho­roughe the foresayd thinges, waxe arrogaunt and proud, she shall be intolerable. But Note ye wemen. she that hath an eye vnto ver tue, doth flee and auoyde the companye of menne, nor will not gladly commen with thē, fearynge none otherwyse to bespotte the beautyfulnesse of her chastytye, then the Armelyne (as it is sayde) dothe auoyde myrye and durtye places. Thys wo­manne dothe exchue noble [Page] and ignoble, fayre and foule, riche & poore, & al other men, and shal be as touching all o­ther, excepte vnto her owne husband, a white line (as men saye) in a white stone. But yf the vanitie of those vayne & wordly thinges do vaynelye inspire her, she shall despyse those, which enioye not y ^e tri­fles that she is proude of, and shew her selfe moste benigne & affable vnto those that for­tune doth fauoure. She that is cruell and sharpe, wyll be as it were a fearce mother in lawe, brawlynge, cruell, and contentious. An obstinate woman shoulde not be mari­ed vnto hym that is [...], for that were to put towe vn­to fire, and what other thing [Page] shoulde he do at home then, but burne, and she but to laye on woode to kyndle the fyre withall? A prince oughte not A liberall woman. to refuse her that is liberall, no nor yet her that is munifi­cente Liberali­tye. or prodigall, for there is no vertue that more bese­meth a prince, nor that wyn­neth more the fauoure of the people, or that more stablys­sheth hyghe and greate dig­nities then liberalitie, so that it be not myxte wyth rapaci­tie, nor wyth the desyre to inryche some (as were redde of Sylla,) wyth other mens goodes and substaunce. He that hath chyldren, and doth intende to marye, muste a­uoyde her that is a rauener, and speciallye a prynce, and a [Page] gouernor of a cite, for by such meanes the euyll are wonte to creepe in, and to corrupte the integritie of men. And we reade that there hathe bene manye rulers of countreyes cōdemned, not for their owne thefte and robberye, but for the thefte and robberyes of their wyues. And for thys Note. cause it was ordeyned in the senate of Rome, Tiberius be­ynge Emperoure, that all suche as was sente forthe to rule and gouerne the prouin­ces and countreyes, shoulde not carye theyr wyues with them.

The negligente wo­man is vnprofitable for hym that can not be at home with [Page] hys owne familye and house­holde. A nyggarde is not A nig­garde. onlye profitable for him that is poore, but also for hym that in hys goodes and sub­staunce dothe sustayne and beare the mutabilytye and chaunces of fortune. Nor I speake not thys, because she hathe no power in al those thynges whyche are called thynges of fortune, but I speake of those thynges whi­che fortune is wonte with greate varyetye of chaun­ches to be medlynge wyth all. For why? the patri­monye and goodes of mar­chauntes are muche more subiecte, and sooner do feele and taste the instabylytye [Page] of fortune, then y ^e patrimony of husbande men, or of greate princes, or of those y ^t liue vpō their landes and rentes. He therfore that is set vnder the varietie & mutabilitie of for­tune, muste choose and marye such a wife, as is wont in such chaunces to be content with a litle, & can order that lytle both wisely & strongly. Such are they that are profitable, sober, and borne of a good stocke & kinred, nourished & brought vp vnder honest pa­rētes, & taught to feare shame and so to hide their necessitie that it come not abroade, rea dye to eate browne breade, and to dryncke water, to co­uer theyr pouertie wythall. But she that is poorelye and [Page] baselye borne, but dilicatelye and wantonlye brought vp, after that she hathe once as­sayed of those delites & plea­sures, doeth preferre her be­lye aboue all honour, & good name and fame. She that is eloquent and well framed to An elo­quēt wife speake, is a pleasure to hym that is heauy spirited, so that she be pleasaunte and not bit ter of wordes, nor to plea­saunt vnto other, the whiche thinge vnto hym that is sus­pitious and gelous, is a very torment. She that is full of wordes (vnto hym that go­eth aboute thinges whiche are secrete, and cannot be di­sclosed withoute daunger) is verye hurtfull, as vnto secre taries of Prynces, and Em­perours [Page] chauncelonrs. The occasion of Fabius Maximus death was, because he decla­red vnto Linia hys wife, that Posthumus Agrippa was cited by hys graundfather Augu­stus. It is great wisedom for a man to be circumspecte, & to take hede of him selfe, as it were of disceytes, what he speaketh familierly at the ta Note thys. ble, or whē he embraseth his wyfe, nor to discouer anye thynge by gesture or counte­naunce, nor to remoue al ma­ner of wrytinges from her, wherby she maye come to the knowledge and vnderstan­dyng therof, that shuld be o­pened with so greate danger and peryll. Beautifulnes, ry­ches, & kynred, cause men to [Page] be insolent & proud, for Ouide doeth saye: that pride doeth faile beutie. And Iuuenal do­eth say: that ther is nothing more intollerable thē a riche woman. And Martiall sayeth merely as he is wont: ye aske me why I wyll not marye a riche woman. Because I wil not mary my self to my wife. And Plaute in Asinaria, doeth say: I haue takē money, and with the dowry I sold myne authoritie. The poore that maryeth a ryche wyfe, doeth not so muche lyue in trouble, because hys wyfe is mole­stlous and greuous vnto hym, as he contynuallye doeth suspecte that she wyll dyspyse and lytle regarde hym.

[Page]And of kynred Iuuenall doeth saye: I had rather haue Ve­nusina, then thee Cornelia the mother of Graccis, yf w ^t thy many vertues thou brig muche pryde, and [...] for thy dowrye the greate triumphes of thy kynred.

And yet all thys moste com­monlye doeth consiste in the education and bryngyng vp of the woman. Ther be that are poore, withoute fauour, Is it not so? and baselye borne, the whi­che are often times more ar­rogant and proude, then thei whiche are noble. Marcus Caro the Censor and chiefest of the common wealthe, dyd choose the doughter of Solo­nius his cliente to his wyfe, the whiche Solonius beleued [Page] that he did but gest with him and wondered that so noble a man woulde be ioyned in affinitie with hym. But Marcus Caro. what, the olde Caro toke the yonge mayden, the rych, the poore, the noble, the ignoble, the Prynce, a vile and a base borne vnto hys wyfe.

And yet S. Hierome doeth saye, that she vsed her selfe verye contemptuouslye and proudely vnto her husband, and was dayly lesse and lesse obeydient vnto hym, so that he (whose wordes, whether he spake theym in the senate, or to the people, or in the iud­gemente haule, were taken for an oracle) the which was estemed for the most prudent and wysest man of so noble a [Page] citie, vnto whome ther was no man at that time, nother at home, nor yet abrode, nor in warre, nor in peace, nor in quietnes, nor yet in busines able to be compared, had not so much authoritie at home, as vpon a rude, a foolishe, a poore, an ignoble, & an obiect wenche, and yet she was in a maner taken for the chiefest of al other matrones, and for her husbandes sake hadde in great estimation and honor. I heard often tymes at Lo­uayne of a certayne hoste of mine, borne in Phrise lande, that there was in his citie a certayne ryche gentle man, the which purposing to lyue merely & quietlye, toke vnto his wife a woman far vnder [Page] his degre, that is, a pore wo­man baselye borne and of no great beauty, and yet moste commonly in that countrey there are exceadinge fayre women. But beyng rudelye brought vp vnder her parē ­tes, she refused to doe the thynges pertayninge vnto his house, and disdained once to touche, or to loke vpon her husbandes shyrtes. This wo man being now dead and de­parted, and he mnche weried with her rude & filthie edu­catiō, maried a noble, a riche, a faire, and a woman meete for hys degree, the which did serue him althoughe she had bene his bondmayde, not as cōpelled, nor yet fainedly but wyllynglye and fayth fullye. [Page] She put on, and toke of hys Note'y e women. clothes, and hys shoes, and made them cleane, and ha­uynge a great familie, wolde suffer none other but her selfe to doe anye thyuge that belonged vnto her husban­des bodye, she mended hys garmentes, washed theym, pleted them, layed them vp, and dyd all other thinges moste promptlye, the whiche her maydens now and then woulde haue bene greued to haue done. And therefore these exterior thynges are euen as euerye mans mynde is instituted & accustomed.

Nor I wyll not denye but that a woman, yf she be of a peruers nature, wyll arro­gantly through her kynred, [Page] ryches and beautye (yf these thynges be lefte her) extolle her selfe, as doeth the flame of fier in a drye and a lyghte matter. A yonge man asked Pirtacus one of the seuen wyse Pittacus answere. men of Grece, whether he shuld mary one y ^t was aboue his degre or no, he made him this answere: mary her that is equall with thee. Of the whiche thynge there is an olde Epigram of Celimachus, recited by Laercius. For in ty­mes paste the olde authours wrote of beautye as it were with certayne argumentes.

If thou marye her that is fayre, thou shalte haue her common: yf she be foule, and euyl fauoured, she shalbe molestious and greuous, but [Page] yet she shalbe thyne owne.

If she be fayre, thou shalte haue a pleasure in her. And this. It is a greuous thyng to suffer her that is foule, and a harde thynge to kepe her that is fayre. And therfore they counseyled men to take those, which were neyther to fayre nor yet to foule: And to choose those that were of the meane sorte. For doubtlesse, they that are excellent faire, waxe insolente and proude, for when they see & perceyue that menne beholde and gase vpou them, and that they be as it were in admiration to al men, they beleue that ther is som rare thyng in them a­boue al other, not w ^t standing that with their owne eyes [Page] they do see as in a glasse how good a thynge that beautye is, and doe soone forget it.

But consider with the eye of the mynde and vnderstan­dynge, makyng a coniecture of them selues by other, how vnstable a thyng that be auty is. And besydes al thys, that that thynge is hardely kept that manye doe desyre. And Note therfore a certayne poet do­eth say: that there is a great stryfe, where beauty and ho­nestye are ioyned together. And that often tymes vnder fayre faces are hydden filthy mindes. But she that is very deforme and foule, not with­standynge Defor­mite. she be most tender lye beloued, yet she beleueth it not, thinkynge her selfe vn [Page] worth ye: and is gelous of all those, that her husband doth other behold or speake vnto. Amonge the whiche ther are some, in whom this sentence may be well applied and veri fied. The foule & euyl fauou­red are ofte chaste, although there lacke no wyll, but the aduouterer onelye. But yet in thys thynge, after as the qualitie of the man is: there are certayne commodities that the luxurious & fastidi­ous man may haue to satiate and fulfyl hys wyl with all, & he that is suspitious and in gelosye maye be in suretye.

All these thinges are not ca­tholike, and yet it is wont to chaunce thus. All thynges be in manne, as the mynde of [Page] is, but specially, after as it is infourmed of youth, and sta­blished by vertuous custo­mes and maners. Hys wyfe that with his handes doeth The labo rers wife labour for hys lyuing, ought to be robuste and stronge, so that she maye helpe and la­boure with hym, as in plow­inge and harrowynge of hys lande. The wyfe that is sick­ly is verye moleste and gre­uous, yf it lette her to beare children, or to do suche thyn­ges as of necessitie muste be done at home. Hesiodus, Plato, and Aristotle, wyl that y ^e man be thre and thyrtye yeares The yea­res of ma riage. of age, and the woman eygh­tene or euer they doe mary. For the man beynge vnder those yeres is not of sufficiēt [Page] strength to get children, and the chyldren are but feeble, nor encrease not as they should doe, nother in stature nor in strēgth. And he being inexpert, doth not rule his fa milie & houshold as he should do, where he beareth because of his youth, but litle authori­tie, nor his children do not re uerence hym, the which doth appeare vnto them, not as a father, but a brother. And yf he be verye olde, he can not helpe his yonge children, nor they hym, but haue nede of o­ther mens ayde & helpe, and doth depart, or euer he make any prouision for them. And women before they be eygh­tene yearrs of age, are not mete to beare children, & doe [Page] trauell of chylde with greate parel and daunger. Nor it is not expedient to accustome her beinge so tender & yonge to venerialcopul ation, for le­cherye is there by enflamed, and y ^e body can not haue hys due increase, Nor such a yong thing can not rule her family being inexpert of all thinges, and cōming to a more perfect age, she wyll not be ruled by her husband, for her conditi­ons and maners are so gro­wen and rooted in her, that they can not be chaunged.

Finallye, the foresayde ages doe well agree, and are con­ueniente, bothe for theym to lyue together in Ma­trimonye, and also to eugen­der and bring forth children, [Page] for their whole power and strength, shall fayle theym at one tyme and season, & theyr mariage shoulde haue lytle ioye or pleasure, yf the one were fruitfull, and the other feble for age. All thys haue I sayde after the mynde and opinion of the Philosophers, but speciallye of Aristotle in hys booke of the common wealthe. But yet in these thinges the causes why they dyd so define the thynge, are more to be considered and lo ked vpon, then the definiti­on. Or elles when soeuer a­nye other lyke causes, or the selfe same (the whiche cer­tes are verye good) doe perswade it. Lette vs per­ceyue & vnderstande that all [Page] ready nature vath defined it, the which hauing respecte to the time and place, doth with secrete qualities alter mans body. But first we must consi­der reason and pitie, the only goodnes of the mind. And for the time that we liue chaste & vnmaried, we must vse such a waner and measure of liuing y ^t before the iust age of procre ation, we be not much pricked nor stirred with the flesh. Cae­sar Note thlo cu­stome. doth cōmende the custome of the olde Almanes, y ^e which he prayseth, because they wēt long without any skinnes, or rayment vpon them, y ^e which thing after the mind & opini­on of some, did stablishe their stature, their force & sinnose. And also their women were [Page] greatly estemed, the whiche before they were twenty yea res of age, would cōpany nor lye with no man. But yf we cānot liue chast, let vs esteme religion aboue al thinges, and folow the precept of Paule, y ^e 1. Cor. [...]. it is better to marrye then to burne. Let vs eleuate oure eyes to the euerlasting coun­treye, and care litle for this life, y ^t which is but for a time. And oure Lorde, that is the voyce of the diuine and godly wisdome doth saye, that it pro Luc. ix. fiteth a man nothing to winne all the worlde wyth the losse of his soule. Yf she that is a­ged dothe marrye, she muste be voyde from all natural vi­ces, and of all suche as she was nourished and broughte [Page] vp withal, for being indured and hardened with suche euil vices, when shall she be refor­med? But she that is younge may euen as it were waxe be fashioned & formed, to what soeuer a man will fashion her vnto. In parentage and kin­red let vs remembre the olde prouerbe, that of a good mo­ther cometh a good dough­ter. My countreye men pro­nounce that with two senses, thus. Of a good vine take a good braunche, & to thy wife take the doughter of a good mother. And wanderynge aboute the citie, firste inquire thou of the mother, and then of the doughter. But yet it importeth verye muche wyth whome and where [Page] [...] was nourished & brought vp, for it is seene often times, that suche as be borne of euill parentes waxe good euen as they be that nourishe them. And borne of good & vertu­ous parentes to waxe [...] tye and euill, for youth dothe most aptly & expressely ensue and folowe that euill is. The womans frendes muste be wayde and considered, whe­ther they be to mightye, or to greuous for y ^e or no. Nor I cā not saye, whether thou shalte haue her sufficiently ynoughe vnder thy power & dominiō; y ^t trusteth much in the migh­tie strength of her kinred. Ti­berius Caesar maried Iulia Au­gustus Tiberi­us. doughter, a shamelesse woman, and of a verye euyll [Page] name: but when y ^t he could no ther chastē her, nor yet chace her the doughter of so migh­tie a father oute of his house, nor durst not accuse her vnto him of adultery, being vncer­tayn howe he wolde take it, & to kepe her, & still to continue in her cōpany was most gre­uouse of all, vnder a colour to liue quietlye he wente to the Rhodes, where at his first cō ming he liued a life most igno­minious, & after that in great daunger for there were y ^t cal­led him a banished man, & for Caesars pleasure his stepsone didde threaten to [...] hym. I know a certayne man y ^t mari ed one farre aboue his degre but after y ^t the dayes of micth and pastime were past, he cur­sed [Page] the daye as to him moost vnfortunatest, when she was firste named vnto him. For yf he had married one of equall and like degree vnto him self, he hauing so great abondāce of riches, shuld haue bene the most fortunatest & luckieste of al other, nor he shuld not haue repented him selfe of hys kin­red, nor at home haue suffred so greate molestiousnes, the which could not haue bene en ded but by his death or hers. Furthermore men must con­sider, of what conditions the womans kinsfolke be of, and what their maner & fashion of liuing is, whether they be spi­tifull, sharpe, vntractable, li­tigious, brawlinge, or fearce: for with such thou shuldest be [Page] continuallye in trouble. And agayne whether they be sedi tious, or factious, and special ly in those parties, wher that As [...] [...]. men whether they wil or will not are wont to be entangled with partetakinges, for they shalbe vnquiete. For who can auoyde trouble that familiar ly doth haunte aud frequente their companye, whiche are troubelous? Furthermore it must be considered, whether they be poore, great crauers, shamels, or without modesti­ousnes: for there be, y ^t can not suffer, ne beare no such, but to auoyd al such grefe, are con­tēt to go & inhabite other pla ces. It is a greuous thing to suffer her y ^t is riche, or to nou rish or intertayn her y ^t is pore [Page] Let euerye man looke vpon his owne substance, whether How no­table a thing it is to ma­ry a poore woman. he be able to support him selfe & his or no, for there is no­thinge more acceptable vnto God, nor more commended of man, then to mary a poore & a well conditioned woman. It is a spice of almose to helpe y ^e poore, & thou hast her not on­ly as a wife, but as a seruaunt the whiche can not laye vnto thy charge, y ^t she brought thee any thing, but in prosperitye shal vse with thee y ^t is thine, & kuowledge thee to be maister of al, & that al her welth com­meth of thee, & in aduersitye shal patientlye beare & suffre enuious and vnfrendlye for­tune, remembryng how litle she brought with her, and shal [Page] not pittie her selfe that came porely vnto the, but thy selfe that art spoiled of al thy goo­des. But yet I put thee in re membraunce agayne, that I speake of those that are well and manerly brought vp, for poore mens doughters slut­tyshely & wantonly brought vp and nourtered, are as tou chynge theyr estate, bothe in prosperitie and pouertye in­tollerable. But yf thy goods suffice not to intertayne thy wyfe with all, take thou such a one as can somwhat helpe thee. But yf thou take her that is riche, to liue & spende her goodes ydely & pleasaūt­ly, thou breakest y ^e lawe & or­dinaūce of god, y ^e which wold Gen. [...]. that man shuld liue of his tra [Page] uell & labour, furthermore, it shulde breake loue & cōcorde. And how longe thinkest thou that she wold suffer & support thee, which as one that is vn profitable & ydle doest consu­me & deuour vp her goods & substaūce? But such a ruffler y ^e which as she supposed shuld haue ben vnto her swete and pleasant, shal want no payn, y ^t is, no strif, no crabbed words, no mutual hatred in this lyf. And that bread the which he did eate without payne or la­bour, shal bryng with it moste bitter and sowre meate. How muche better had it ben then to haue eaten browne breade with v [...]le & vnsauerye meate in tranquillitie & peace, then in such a bitter life to haue de uoured & eaten al other deli­cates [Page] folowing the counsel of the wise man, saying: that bet ter is a drie morsell of breade Prou. xvij. with ioye & gladnes, then a house ful of fat offering with strife and contention. Of the which pleasaūt and swete life gotten with labonre & payns Uirgil doth say, y ^t there was an old husband mā at Tarent, the which not withstandyng [...]arens is a no­ble citie of Cala­bria. he was but pore & nedye, yet in mind he was equal w ^t prin ces y ^t which returning home towardes nyghte, furnyshed hys Table wythoute anye coste or charge at all.

Marcus Antonius the Philoso­pher maryed Fustina, the dou ghter of Antonius Pius, and trustynge that there by he shoulde inherite the Empier, [Page] durste not for her manifest & open aduoutrye refuse her. lest that anye controuersye or trouble should be made for her dowry. I would a great deale sooner counsell the wo­man to marrye with her bet­ter, then the man to marrye her that is of moore power, then he hym selfe. For why? the minde of man is noble, & will not abase it selfe, to be cō ­pared to the woman. But manye women for their de­fence when they braule and chide, doe vse thys armoure, for incontinentlye thou shalt heare the cōparison of their nobilitie and ryches. After al thys, thou must marke their qualities, that is, whether she be a wydowe or vnmary­ed, [Page] a virgyn or corrupt, wont to be loued or no. In a wyd­dowe, her age must be cōside­red. In a yong woman it ma keth no greate matter whe­ther she be a virgyn or no, al­thoughe it seeme no smale thynge to haue had the flo­wer of her age, and as Uir gil doeth say, to haue had th firste loue. Nor it is not of naughte that my countrey men prouerbiallye doe saye: that the begynnynge, as wel in loue as in [...]otage is moste pleasaunte. In her that was longe with her husband, that thyng, the which of wise men is commaunded to be wayed in frendes, muste be conside­red, that is, how she behaued her selfe to her firste husbāde [Page] and what maner of man her husband was. For if she (he be ing an honest man) loued him not, nor could not broke him, waie then with thy self, what she wil be vnto thee: but yf he wer euyl and importune, and yet she moderatly dyd suffer him, thou must euer hope and trust the same. But yf he wer euyll & flagitious, then thou muste take good heede whe­ther he haue not allured her vnto his owne maners, and how those maners doe please the. Make also a comparison betwixte him and thy selfe, for yf he wer more vertuous then thy selfe, she considering the good thinges past & those that are present, shalbe heauy and greuous vnto the, and so [Page] much the more, because y ^t the time presēt semeth to be wor­se, then that, y ^t is paste, for the Tyme. time doth cōtinually turne & incline to y ^e worse. But yf she be better borne, richer, and of more power then y ^u thy selfe, she as one y ^t was some times maryed to suche an husbande vnto whō thou arte not to be compared, shal fastidiously cō ­tempne thee, & the more bit­terly hate thee. howe muche her first husband then thou, dyd more commodiously and gently vse her. But she y ^t shal come laden to the w ^t childrē, shal rob thee, & gather to en­riche her owne withall. She wyll not loue thy chyldren, nor yet equallye those, which are common betwene you, [Page] but shal haue compassion vpō the fatherles being destitute of al fatherlye helpe and com forte. In her that was cor­rupte men must consider the lyfe that is paste, for of these ther are two periculous kin­des, for thou shalte heardlye perswade her that was com­mon, or her that hathe haun­ted the companye of greate men, or her the whiche they haue loued to be continente: for it would be heard for her that was wonte and accu­stomed to be a maistres ouer great men, to serue him that is so farre vnder those which wer her seruātes. And how soeuer she shal find the, she wil not beleue that al other wold haue ben as thou art, but shal [Page] lament that so vnluckedly she came & was maried vnto the. I wold not counsel y ^t to mary Excellēte good con̄ ­sell. her, w ^t whome thou hast bene in amors withal, whom thou flatterdest, whome thou didst serue, whom thou calledst thy hart, thy life, thy maistres, thy light, thy eyes, w ^t other suche wordes as foolishe loue doth perswade, vsinge impietie a­gaynst god, which is y ^t ende of al desire & goodnes. Thys submission is & shoulde be the cause, y ^t she doth not regard y ^t, but disdayneth to serue thee, whose ladye she was as she estemed, & whō she foūd more obedient vnto her, euen with y ^t peril & daunger of life, thē a ny other slaue y ^t was bought for monie. Thus it appeareth [Page] it is not conuenient y ^e the ser­uaunt should rule y ^e maistres, for after y ^t loue, hatred, reue­rence, contempt, & feare hath once occupied the mind of mā they leaue certayne cōtinuall markes, the which y ^e Grekes call Hexis, & the Latins Habi­tus. Great & noble men do al­wayes honour their pedago­ges & maisters, & that for the reuēce they bare thē of youth & do feare them, notwithstan ding they be their subiectes, & haue the aucthoritie & power in their hand bothe of life and deathe. And the prouerbe doth saye, that whoso mari­eth for loue, dothe liue in so­row. I wold y ^t the flame whi­che was kindled & did burne before they were married, & after they were married, wa­xed [Page] cold agayne might be re­nued, perpetual, pure, & liue­lye. Thou seeste nowe, howe great prudency & wisdome is necessary to discerne & iudge these thinges, and how neces­sary it is to counsel with him, whose motions of the minde are quiete, that they begile thee not. Let no man trust to obtayne a wife, y ^t shal haue no incommoditie nor faute, but yet the fewer y ^t she hath, shall be in stede & place of her mani fold & great vertues. But he y ^t is wise, wil learne & take cō sel by such thinges as be pre­sent. And forasmuch as those thinges which be meane, are almost infinite, there cā be no vniuersall forme nor rule ge­nen of them, & therfore wisdō [Page] is present at hand, the which is not geuen, but with prece­ptes ayded & holpen: & to ad­monish men of y ^e same, I haue as for an example writtē the thinges & matters aforesaid. In the deliberation of matri­mony, this must be inuiolably [...] [...]. obserued, y ^t we folow not the iudgement of oure owne sen­ses, nor eyes the whiche are sone rauished and deceaued with beautie, nor of the eares the which take pleasure in elo quence, nor of the motions of the mynde, wherewith men are ledde other to kinred, or els to moneye or riches, the whiche all throughe their in­stabilitye, aboundaunce or sa­cietye, do brynge wyth them swyfte & sodaine repentance. [Page] And therefore al thinges are to be reuoked & called to that supreme and exact iudgemēt of the mind. Thou shalt take hede, that on thy part the wo man nother in body nor in sub stāce be not deceaued, for thou shalt neuer vse her cōinodiou­sly, and as thou wouldest thy selfe, whome thou fraudulent ly & deceytfully diddest intice & wind vnto thee, for natural ly we hate him as an enemy, y ^t doth begile vs, nor nothynge doth displease a manne more, then to lacke the thinge he lo­ked for. It were better to dis­close vnto her thy vices & in­firmities, the mediocrity and meanes of thy goodes & sub­stance with the perill of y ^e losse of her, then to obtayne her w ^t [Page] fraude & sure discord. Sergius Sergi­us Gal ba, Galba his father y ^t was Empe rour playde (as it is written) the parte of a wise & of an ho­nest man, for when Liuia Occel la that beautifull & riche wo­man was in loue with him, he put of his clothes, & secretlye did shew her that he was bro ken backte, the which simple gene rositie did so contente & please her, that she regarded not the blemishe of his bodye, but loued and honoured him more, thē euer she did before. Many men are wont to saye, y ^t they will rule their wiues, whatsoeuer they be, or how­soeuer they came by thē, and that it is in the hande and po­wer of the husband, what and of what conditions she shall [Page] be. Certes a greate parte of this doth rest & lye in the hus­band, so that he as he oughte to do, do vnderstand that ma Matri­mony. trimonye is the supreme and most excellent part of all ami­tie, and that it farre differreth from tiranny, the which doth compell men to obeye. Truly it compelleth the bodye, but not the will, in the whiche all loue and amitie do the onelye consist, the which yf it be dra­wen dothe resiste, and bowe lyke a palme tree (as naturall The na­ture of a palme tree. Philosophers do wryte) to the contrarye parte. Nor thou shalte not beleue, that there canne be anye mary­age or concorde, where they agree not in wyil and minde, the whyche twoo are the [Page] beginning & seate of all ami­tie & frendship. And they that do auaunce & thinke thē sel­ues able to rule their wiues, by that time they haue proce­ded [...]. and gone a litle further, they shall feele & perceaue thē selues begiled, & find y ^t thyng to be most hard & intractable, the whiche to be done they e­stemed most light and easye. Some there be, y ^t through e­uyll and roughe handelynge and in threatenynge of their wiues, haue them not as wi­ues, but as seruauntes.

And yet surelye they are but very fooles, that iudge matri mony to be a dominion. And such as woulde be feared, do afterwardes lamente & com­playne that they find no loue [Page] in them, whose loue & amite through their owne importu nitie thei turned into hatred. And at y ^e beginnynge glorifi­ing & craking thus cruelly to be their wiues maisters, thei purchase vnto them selues a most miserable & alamentble life in time to come, beinge nowe y ^t all loue & pleasure is caste a side, enuironed with feare & suspition, hatred, & so row. Truly yf a man (as na­ture, Eph. v. reason, & holy scripture, do saye vnto vs) be the head of the woman, and Christ the father, there ought to be be­twene them such societe & fe­lowship, as is betwene y ^e fa­ther and the sonne, and not suche as is betwene the mai­ster and the seruaunt.

¶ Of the accesse and goynge vnto Mariage.

AFter y ^t thou hast de termined with thy self to marry, & hast done all dilygence therto required, thou muste desire of God, good & prospe­rous successe, in whose hand & power it is to gene it, & dout­les wil geue it most abūdant­ly, if thou aboue al other thin ges haue an hope & a respect vnto him, For yf thou, after y ^e thou hast satisfied thine appe­tite, resort vnto him, desiring him y ^t thou mayst obtayn the thing that thou most desirest, it shuld apeare y ^t thou woul­dest make hym a minister of thy voluptuous desieres and [Page] pleasures, and so doynge thy vowes & prayers should ap­pere most manifest blasphemy A man should not come vnto Note mariage as vnto a prophane thinge, with a solute and an vncareful mynde, but with a quiet & a wel pourged mynd, as to a thinge most sacrate & holye. Nor matrimony doth not onely consiste in the con­iunction of the body, nor yet in daunsyng nor bancketing, procedynge & broughte vnto vs with many other thinges from the gentiles, when that it shoulde rather beseme vs most studiously to pray vnto almyghty God, that so way­ghtye a thyng as matrimo­nye is, myghte haue good and prosperous successe.

[Page]Matrimonie as a thing sanctified of God, the which wil­leth the matrimonial embra­cemētes He, xiij to be chaste, the bed to be vndefiled, and their pro ginie vnbespotted. And it is after the mind of S. Paule, a signe of that great mistery, wherwith Christ doeth indi­solubly vnite hym self vnto y ^t Eph. v. church. Therfore thou ough test as much as shal lye in the to lift vp thy mind, and to re­membre howe great & howe worthy an ymage thou doest represent, and that thy wife is vnto thee, as the churche, and thou vnto her as Christ: And therefore thou shouldest shewe thy selfe vnto her as Christ shewed him self vn­to his churche. The charite [Page] and loue of Christe vnto the churche is incredible, and thy loue towardes thy wyfe ought to be most effectuous. Societe and to liue together is the most effectuous and su rest knot to knitre and ioyne amitie and loue amonge men and all other beastes. What greater societie or companye can there be, then is betwene a man and his wyfe? Whose house, whose chambre, whose bed is cōmon, their chyldren are common, and they theim selues partakers of al good & euyl successe and fortune, the which societie and felowshyp wer sufficiēt to styre and pro uoke him that loueth not his wyfe, to loue and beneuo­lence. And what companye [Page] or loue shall a manne loke to haue of him that loueth not his wyfe? Ther are y ^t in loue and amite loke for gaine as y ^t vile Epicures do, vnworthy to be beloued, menne whiche loue them selues & not their frēdes. And if we haue a re­specte vnto commoditie and profite, there is nothing that geueth so muche as doeth a wyfe, no not horses, oxen, fer­mers nor proctours. For a mans wyfe is the felowe and conforter of all cares & thou­ghtes, and doeth moore dili­gent and good seruice, then other mayde or seruaunt, the which do serue men for feare or els for wages, but thy wif is led onely by loue, & there­fore, she doth euery thing bet ter then all other. And God [Page] doth declare it, saying: let vs Gen. ij. make Adam a helper lik vnto him selfe, by the helper is sig­nified the vtilitie and profite of the seruice, & by the simili­tude & likenes is signified lo­ue. For a seruaūt and he that is hired, are far vnlike y ^e mai­ster, and are taken wel nyghe for no men. A seruaunt in the stede and place of an horse or of an oxe, y ^e whiche must be betē & inforsed to their work doeth serue his maister. A hired seruaūte is in y ^e place of an hired horse, for whē y ^e hier is payed, y ^e socitie & felowship dissolueth. The child is part of y ^e father, & through a natu­ral pitie thei loue eche other, but yet y ^e wife is more anne­xed & ioyned to her husband. [Page] The father doth labour and taketh paine for his childrē, but sildome the children for theyr fathers, and often ty­mes thei are sent to inhabite & dwel in other mens houses wherby in a maner it appea­reth that their strayte & faste societe doth dissolue & break. But the wife cleane contrary doth incontinently take pai­nes for her husband, nor may (as long as she liueth) nother chaūge house nor bed. If com moditie & profit be loked for, what cōmoditie excelleth this yf y ^u loue thy wife y ^u shalt liue most pleasantly, yf y ^u loue her not, most miserablye & wret­chedly. For ther is nohing so sharpe nor so bitter, as to hate the thing y ^t doth fauor & loue [Page] the, nor nothing more happy as to loue him that hateth y ^e. What doth other mens bene uolence & amitie helpe or cō ­fort me, yf inwardlye I con­sume my selfe with hatred? or what doth other mens enuye & hatred hurte me, when my mind is occupied with swete & pleasaunt loue? The foun­tayne of felicitie & miserye is inwardly, for outward thin­ges do litle or nothing to the iocunditie or miserye of mans life. Some there be, that hate aungels, the whiche that not­withstandinge are throughe loue most happy & fortunate. Some other loue Sathan, y ^e which through enuy and ha­tred are moste vnfortunate & wretched. How shal it be pos­sible [Page] then, that thou whiche doste loue shalt not be loued, the prouerbe being true and saying: Loue that thou maist be loued. Thou shalte then leade a celestiall & a heauenly life, when there is such corre­spondente & mutuall loue be­twene you. as there is amōg the aungels and those blessed foules, whiche haue left theyr dodies, and are clothed with the diuine and godly lyghte. The lawe of matrimony and The law of loue is matrimo­ny. nature, whiche Idam or God rather by Adā did pronunce, doth declare how greate the loue of mariage should be, for when Eue after that swete slumber was broughte vnto him to be his wife & companiō behold (quod) Adā this bone [Page] is of my bones, and this flesh Gene. [...]. of my fleshe, for this shal man for sake father and mother, & cleue vnto his wife, and they shal be two in one fleshe. This is the summe and ende of all loue & amitie, to be so ioyned with the thing that thou dost loue that thou mayst become one thing with it. The Poe­tes declare, that Vulcanus the God of smithes founde two together, the whiche shewed one to another great tokens of loue, and taking a pleasure in this their charitie & loue, a thing vnto god most accepta­ble, he asked them whether there were any thing, where in he mighte do thē pleasure. O Vulcane qd they, we desire y ^t w ^tthose thi diuine instrumēts Note [Page] wouldeste breake vs in pea­ces, cast vs newe agayne, and make of vs two but one.

This is the ende of al our de­sires, & for this doth loue stu­dy, & shal obtayne that it desi­reth, yf it may bring y ^t thynge to passe, the whiche at lengthe shal be in that heauenlye loue and charitie, when we being spoyled of this fleshe of sinne, and renued by Christe, shalbe made one thing with God, & among our selues, as Christe dothe teache vs. What other thinge is it, y ^t man must leaue father & mother for and cleue Gene. ij vnto his wife, but only y ^t cha­rity ouercometh al loue, yea & y ^t also which doth elaspe the fa ther & the childe together, y ^t oughte to be mooste greatest. [Page] beyng a man taught onlye by nature doth saye, as Homere writeth, that Troy in time to come shuld be destroyed by y ^t Grekes, and that he doth not care nor sorowe so muche for him selfe, his father, his mo­ther, or for his brethren, as he soroweth for his dearly belo­ued wife. The stoute & man­ly mind of man hath continu­ally his reward: for why? the flame pearseth the womans hearte, the whiche loueth her husband most feruently. And so dyd Andromica loue Hector aboue al other. Zenophō doth shewe, that when Tygraue the king of Armenias sonne & hys wife were Cyrus prisoners, he promised to redeme her with his owne life. And afterwar­des [Page] whē they asked her what she thought of Cyrus, she sayd y ^t she neuer behelde nor sawe him. And when her husband sayd, what thinge haste thou sene then, yf thou neuer didste see him? she aunswered, what thing shuld I beholde or see, but him only, y ^t sayd he wolde redeme me out of seruitute & bondage with his owne life? so greatly the loue of her hus­band had inflamed her. But what maner of loue should be in matrimony? & with what other preceptes shoulde it be fashyoned, then with those, y ^t whyche the Lorde our God dothe geue by hys Apostle Paule in the Epystle to the Ephesians where he sayeth: Cap. v. That manne is the heade of [Page] the woman, as Christe is the 1. Cor. iij. heade of the churche, and god the heade of Christ. He propo neth no vile thing, nor of erth lye wisdome, that dothe cor­rupt, and is foolishnes before God, and oftentimes in thys world doth decaye, & yet doth eleuate and extoll it selfe to the similitude and ymage of the eternall wisedome, by the which the almightie god cre­ated & made the world. And that heade of the churche said so seriouslye, that he was the saluation of his bodye, that he doubted not to giue hym selfe for it. The Apostle calleth vpon hys, to ensue and folowe thys loue, that Ephe. v is, that as CHRISTE hathe sprynckled and shedde [Page] his bloud to saue his churche so shuldest thou not feare, nor that for thine or thy wifes af­fections, but for the helth and salute of her soule, to die most stronglye. What thinge can Loue ge­neth cou­rage. make the coragious, yf loue make the not? the whiche ge­ueth courage & audacitie to hartes, hares, & other time­rous and fearfull beastes. In this worde salute is compri­sed, life, helth, vertue & hone­stye. But as for riches, orna­mentes, delitiousnesse, vayne glory & voluptuousnes are ta ken for foolishnes. He hym self despised al these thinges, & taught his, that they shuld Note this come vnto him, yf they light­ly regarded them. Christ dyd not to enriche his churche w ^t [Page] golde and siluer, or that it shoulde be of solace or plea­sure, but he was crucified to sanctifie his churche with wa ter by y ^e worde, that it myght be glorious withoute anye wrynkle or sporte, holye and faulteles, and so oughte men to loue their wyues as their owne bodyes. The Lord do­eth Eph. v. dayly sanctifie the church by hys death, that being pur­ged with the mooste purest bloude of her spouse, she may be adourned with all vertue, and by puttynge awaye olde Adam with all his deedes, she maye be clothed wyth Christe her spouse, the which was made of God after the similitude and lykenes of the first Adam, I say, the heauen­ly, [Page] not after the ymage of the earthly. There appeare out­wardly suche wonderful and excellēt vertues, wherof the glorye of the churche doeth aryse, that by them they may come to the fountayne of all goodnes, that do meruaile at those sprynges, and doth ho­nour them. And therfore we are commaunded to be in eue ii. co. ij ry place a good odour and sa­uour, but namelye vnto the lord. And it is the wyl of our maister that oure good wor­kes Mat. v. shoulde be knowen to all men to the intent our heauen lye father of whom we recey­ued thē, might be glorified.

The quene did stand vpō the right hand of her spouse, in a Psalm xliiij. vesture of golde wrought a­boute w ^t diuers colours, but [Page] yet her glory was not in her apparel, nor in those thinges which mē do behold & se, but in those y ^t she seeth in sprite, & that her spouse doth approue for whose loue she doeth ad­ourne & apparel her self: who thē can esteme matrimony to be vile, consideringe it is y ^t y­mage of so high and so diuine thinges? And therfore y ^e wo­mās life, vertue, & good name & fame, oughte to be vnto her husband more derer then his own life, as christ put his own life to great & incredible pai­nes & tormētes to saue, sācti­fie, & to honor his church, Nor y ^u must not behold how fayre, of what kinred, how rich, or of what healthe she is of, nor yet howe greatlye she doeth loue [Page] thee: for whatsoeuer she be y ^e thou haste maried, thou must none other wyse, nor with no lesse affection loue her, then Christ loued his churche, the whiche refused not to suffer great paynes for the wicked, and his enemies, drawynge them vnto him as membres vnto the head, to furnish and to make vp his churche with al, he doeth dayly teache her, sustayneth, clarifieth, mundi­fieth, and with greate paci­ence & gentlenes doeth cha­sten her, and whatsoeuer she be, he embraseth her w ^t great loue, although she be vnkind, and coldely doth recompence his feruent loue and charite, to her wardes. She is thy wyfe, and ye bothe are nowe [Page] but one thing, therfore thou oughtest to loue her as thy selfe. It is written that Epa­minudas enemies appoynted him a certayne vile off [...]ce, the whiche he accepted moste be­ninglye and thankesully, say­inge that he woulde so vse it, that in tyme to come it shulde be reputed amonge the peo­ple a very honest office, and so he dyd Could this man in so great a dissention of the citie and amonge so manye enui­ous personnes and enemies. cause a vile office to be had in estimation, and canst not thou euen of thy selfe brynge to passe, that thou d [...]pise not thyne owne fleashe, yeathy selfe? when that [...]ule doeth Eph. v. saye, he that loueth him selfe [Page] loueth his wif. Nor ther was neuer man y ^t hated his owne flesh, but doth norish & cherish it, as the lord doth cherish his church, Aristotle folowing the Pithagorians doth define a frēd that he is the self same thyng A frende with another. And god doth saye, y ^t the wife with her hus­band Gene. ij is al one thing. And Ci­cero to cōfirme & kepe amitie geueth this counsel, that the inferior shuld ascend & the su­perior descend, for so y ^t things may be brought to equalitie. But in matrimonye this ne­deth not, for it is sufficiente both for y ^t man & the wyfe, to perceyue & vnderstand, that they are parte eche of others bodye. And therefore to be fayre or foule, ryche or poore, [Page] noble or ignoble, whole or sicke, wyse or folyshe, is nowe throughe the operation and work of God, the which hath made them bothe one, com­mon vnto them bothe. Nor there shall neuer be true and cōtinual loue, except it be sta­blyshed vpon those thynges that remayne after death.

For beauty, ryches, kinred, & suche other haue their tyme, some appoynted by nature, & some by fortune, & other hu­maine chaūces. Thei haue al­so their sacietie, & in time and place thei are forgotten. For we can not at all tymes and seasons remember the Fabi­ans, the Cornelians, and that we receyued a greate dow­rye. The affection with the [Page] tyme doth waxe feble & cold, and the plentifulnes and vse of that, that a man dyd gre­dely fyrst desyre doeth cause him to lothe it. Al these thin­ges do diminishe loue, & certē of thē do vtterly extinguishe it, the which if it had bene in the mind & in vertue, shoulde Vertue. haue continued for euer. For vertue is euer at hand, neuer ydle, neuer vnprofitable nor voide, but alwayes working. Nor y ^t soule of mā by y ^e death of the bodye doeth not die, so that we may beleue that thei whiche be departed doe loue all suche, as in thys worlde were deare vnto theym: and that they whyche lo­ued the Soules of those whyche bee departed and [Page] deliuered from the bodye, do loue them not as deade, but as they loue their frendes, y ^t which are absent & farre frō them. And therfore we do see many women that kepe their fayth & loue vnto their firste husbandes, as did Demotions the Ariopagites doughter, of the which S. Hierome doth write agaynste Iouiniane, the whiche after that her spouse Leostenes was deade, woulde Note. this ye women. mary with none other, saying that she should marry an ad­uouterer & no husband, for al­though he wer departed, yet he was aliue vnto her. And so sayd that womā of Rome. And how sharpely & wittelye doth Lucane bring in Cornelia, Scipio Metellus doughter, and [Page] Pompeus last wife, taking and esteminge her selfe but as an harlot as touchinge Iulia hys first wife, as though the knot and band of matrimonye and loue did yet indure bet wixte the liuing and deade. And na­turally euery man desireth to be loued and doth searche for the fauour of other men, and studieth to kepe & to encrease those thinges, that cause hym to be in fauour. If thy wife do perceaue, that thou art raui­shed and taken with her beau tie, and would that thou shul­dest loue her, she wil do al her diligence to encrease & aug­mente it, yf with her commu­nication. she will neuer cease pratling, yf with her vertue, she wil dayly labor howe in all [Page] honest & vertuous dedes she maye be better. By as one of the seuen wise & sage men of Grece, gaue this one precept By as precepte. & rule of loue. Loue so sayth By as, y ^t thou mayste hate, and hate y ^t thou mayst loue. I can not saye, whether this wyse man doth more folowe the fi­gure of wordes, then y ^t truth of the sentence, inasmuche as he dothe teache, that no man shuld be to other, nother faith full frende nor enemye. And therefore Cicero doeth saye full truelye, that all amitye and frendshyppe shoulde de­caye, yf a manne shoulde loue so, that he maye hate. What shoulde he truste then? what shuld he beleue, or to whome shoulde he open hys mynde? [Page] or how shuld he loue him tru ly and with al his heart, whē he may coniectute and thynk that in time to come he wil be or may by his enemy? surelye he will drawe backe, and pro­uide agaynst such thinges, as may fortune & chaunce. And therefore this sentence maye thus more cōuenientlye both for the vse of nature & of this life be turned. Loue neuer to hate, but hate to loue when time shal be. Euery man shuld loue his frend simply, but spe­ciallye his wyfe. And foras­muche as loue & other affec­tes are named of the Philo­sophers Habitus, the whiche are conserued and kept in vs through time, operation, and labour, we muste euen at the [Page] beginning geue our diligēce, that all iniuries and offences maye be auoyded: for as Plu­tarke doth saye, tender & softe loue is sone broken. Therfore The be­ginninge of matri­moniall loue. that newe loue & coniunction of the mind, must be nourished with benigne, swete & gentle conuersation, vntil it be so in­creased & fastened, y ^t no great storme be able to dissolue or breake it. And al suspitiō must be at all times, but specially at the beginning of matrimony auoyded, lest thou firste begin to hate, or euer thou beginne to loue. And beware thou fayne it not, nor conceaue it of no light occasions & conie­ctures, for vnto suche thou shouldeste geue no eare, al­though there were great ap­parence [Page] & liklyhode. Ther is no man so well fashioned and brought vp, that can satisfye all men, and he that was able to auoyde the faute, was not able to auoyde suspition, for y ^e iudgementes of men are free and licentious, & they do in­terprete, y ^t they see and heare, not after the truth, but after their affections, and the con­iecture that they do fayne & reioyce in, vnto the whiche some do geue more credite, then some. Pansanias in platose Simpose doth put two Venus & [...]. loues. two loues, a heauenly and an earthly. The earthly is blind abiect, vyle, fyithye, and occu­pyed aboute vile and filthye thinges, neuer lokynge vp to thinges of more worthines. [Page] But that celestiall and hea­uēly loue doth see most cleare lye, folowyng vertue & those thynges, whiche are mooste beautifull, and moost lyke vn­to heauenlye thinges. Those husbandes that loue the beau tye, or the ryches of their wi­ues, are blynde and subiecte to that earthly loue, not per­ceauinge the reason nor yet the measure therof. But thei whiche are true husbandes, True hus bandes. loue the soule and vertue, and haue a iudgemente in loue, and beyng inspired wyth the strengthe and spirite of that celestiall loue, do loue wyse­lye: for pure and holye loue dothe not vyolentlye compel them, as that doeth whyche is earthlye, but prudentelye [Page] doth guyde, and conduct thē gently perswaded to y ^e place they shuld go vnto. The wise husbande doth loue his wyfe feruentlye, but yet as the fa­ther loueth his sonne, y ^e head, the body, the soule, the fleshe, and as Christe dothe loue his churche, & thus must the hus­bande & the wife loue eche o­ther. Nature it felfe dothe teache vs this, & they lyke­wise that are learned in di­uine letters do tel vs y ^e same. Adam was firste created like Gene. ij iij. vnto the ymage & similitude of his maker. But when he perceaued that it was not cō ­uenient nor mete, y ^t he should liue alone, a helpe like vnto him selfe was geuen him, and taken euen oute of hys owne [Page] side, insomuche that Adam is to Eue, as the father is vnto his sonne. And it was said to Eue, thou shalte be vnder the power of man, & he shall rule thee. Nor it is not thus only in man, but in al kindes & sor­tes of beastes, y ^t the female is vnder the power & dominion of the male, and therefore the male is more stronger bothe in mind & bodye, then the fe­male. And the instrumentes to rule withall, are more ex­cellente and more perfecte in manne, then in womanne, as the sharpenes of witte, di­ligence, wisedome, strength, audacitie, generositie, and y ^t excellencie of the minde. And therfore y ^t Romaynes folow­ing nature, did neuer take the [Page] whole auctoritie of man from women. Liuius vsinge y ^e wor­des of Cato, dothe saye thus. Our forefathers would not, that women shoulde do anye thing without the auctoritye of man, submittinge them sel­ues to their fathers, to theyr brothers & to their husban­des. Matrimonye is called a coniunction and a cōparison, but yet they are not like, as Martial doth saye merelye, ex­cept the woman be vnlike the man. O Sexte (sayth Martial) let the woman be vnder her hus­band, and so they shalbe lyke.

It is sufficient, y ^t the husband loue his wife with a sightiye loue, but the wife is bounde vnto her husband in two thin ges, that is to loue him, & to [Page] do him reuerence, the whiche Loue & reuerence affections can not be constray ned, but yet they maye be ob­ned of her by gentlenes. But this thing can not be done w ^t woordes, but as he sayeth: Marke, yf thou wilt be loued, loue. They which are learned do think, that this thing doth not happen by chaūce medle, but by the secrete artifice of the world. The Philosopher Plato doth say, that the whole worlde is so compacte and bounde together by God the artificer, as it were with cer­tayne knottes, for yf thou drawe or take one of them, the other by a certayne se­crete coniunction, as it were the lynckes of a cheyne do fo­lowe, but yet he sayeth, that [Page] those thinges, which are like & most cōformable one to the other, are most speciallye ioy­ned together, & that beneuo­lence doth grow of the simili­tude & likenes of nature and custome, and that they which loue, are loued agayne. And this loue must be pure and sin cere, or elles it shall haue no strength nor none effect. Fire paynted vpon a wal doth not burne, nor a false adamante draweth no yron. Many men do maruayl, why they are not loued, seinge they do shewe so many tokēs & signes of loue. The signes & tokens of loue are not loue, & therefore they cause not the effecte of loue, but prouoke & cause hatred, when it is perceaued, y ^t they [Page] loued not, but fained so many tokens and diuerse signes of loue. Loue also doth growe of the opinion of honestie, for as Cicero dothe saye, there is nothinge more amiable, nor y ^t draweth the minde of manne more to loue then vertue. All What lo­ue is. loue is a certayn affection to y ^t thing, that is goodly & fayre, there is nothing more good­ly then vertue, the which yf a man might behold & see with his bodely eyes, would stirre vp great loue vnto it self, but it is seene with the inwarde eye of the mind, and draweth those that beholdeth it to be­neuolence, & to embrace and loue it. The opinion of excel­lencie, the whiche is situate & set other in the power of the [Page] body, or of y ^u soule, doth bring forth, & ingender veneration, Uenera­tion. and reuerence. Strength, ri­ches, frendes, clientes, ser­uauntes, ministers, subiectes fauour, grace, and dignitie, be longe vnto the bodye. In the soule are iudgement, wisdom, the sharpenes of witte, saga­citie, watche, fortitude, & au­dacitie, wherby men do take vpon them great actes & en­terprises. Of these thinges Maiestre doth maiestie procede & arise, by the which al thinges vpon earthe are ruled & gouerned. And with this, kinges and magistrates gouerne and de­fende great nations and king domes, and throughe thys, greate multitudes and num­ber of people do obeye vnto [Page] the will of one alone: wyth this captaynes & Emperors do conducte, whether soeuer they wil greate companies & hostes of menne. Of this the mayster hathe neade for hys seruaunte, the father for hys sonne, and the husbande for hys wife, to thende she maye loue and obeye hym that is wise, for prudeneye and wis­dome wythoute honestie and goodnesse is formidable, and goodnes without wisdom is loued, but not obeied. In this maiestie doth consist the force & strength of iustice both to re ward & to punishe. It shalbe sufficiēt for an husbād to haue of these thinges so muche as shal suffice to rule his wife & his family withall. Other mē [Page] haue nede of power, & also of maiestie to rule a citie, in the which are so manye houses & housholdes. The foundation of al thinges is fayth, y ^e which Fayth. is most certaynly obtayned & gotten by science. The nexte vnto fayth is, to be hadde in good estimation. Marcus Cato Note (as Salust doeth write) dyd laboure rather to be good, then to appeare good: & ther­fore the lesse he sought for glo rye, the more he obtayned it. Those opinions are wont to be most surest and fast, y ^t which [...]ayth do occupye the yong & tender minde, as we do see by those thinges, that children do first learne and commende to me­morye. Nor wolle doth ne­uer loose hys firste coloure, [Page] nor that clothe the which (as it is commonlye spoken) is died in wolle. And therfore, we ought not only to labour and studye to brynge in good affections, but we muste so dispose and order the whole state of oure lyfe, that it maye be the more easie to be borne, and throughe conuersation waxe more swete and plea­saunte. Thou muste also con­sider thyne owne wytte and qualities, and lykewyse thy wyues, and thy ryches and substaunce, and prouide that it maye prosper, not onely for the tyme and state presente, but also for the tyme that is to come. And thus conside­rynge the casualties of man, thou muste dispose the thyng [Page] in suche wyse, that not great chaūge or chaūce mai trouble the soft & delitate mind of the woman, notwithstandynge i. pe. v. that chaunces are infinite, & that no prouision can be foūd to withstande them, and that many of them must be referd vnto God, the whiche taketh care for vs al, & wuld that we shoulde not care for the thin­ges that are to come, the whi che pertayne to hym onelye, nor no man can make proui­sion agaynst them. But now to retourne to oure purpose, when thou goest a wowyng, thou muste beware and take heede (that thou whether the woman be promysed the, or nowe brought home vnto the) geue not thy self to those vnmete & voluptuous loue & [Page] lustes, by the whiche men are compelled to sai & to do many thinges which are filthy and childish. And of this loue the prouerbe doth saye, that it is scarcely graunted to God, to loue & to be wise: loue & wine are in thy power or euer thou drinke, but after y ^t thou haste dronken, y ^u shalte be their sub­iect & seruaunte. And of this she shal iudge the to be vaine, light, vnapt, and folishe. Nor thou canst not kepe thy maie­stie in such filthy loue: for O­uide doth say, that maiesty & loue doeth not agree, nor re­main nor tary not in one pla­ce. But y ^e poet doth speake of this erthly and blind loue, for cordiall and wyse loue doeth not diminishe maiestye.

[Page]Nor a woman can not suffer nor take hym for her maister, that was some tyme her ser­uaunt. And the weaker a wo man is in mynde, the more she desyreth to be in power, and yf she had once domina­tion and rule, she taketh it as an iniurie, yf she rule not styl. Nor there is no rule moore Note violente or moore greuous, then theirs, that by al reason ought to be subiectes, as the rule of seruauntes, artificers children and women. But as we woulde that the man whē he loueth shoulde remember his maiestye, so we woulde that when he ruleth he for­get not hys loue, nor to tem­per it with maiestye. And when he doth thinke him selfe [Page] to be the head and the soule, and the woman as it wer the fleshe & the bodye. He oughte in lyke manner to remembre, that she is hys felow & compa nion of his goods & labours, and that their children be cō ­mon betwene theym, bone of bones, and fleshe of the fleshe of man. And thus ther shalbe in wedlocke a certayne swete and pleasaunt conuersation, withoute the whiche it is no maryage but a prysone, a ha­tred & a perpetual torment of the mynde. Let thy wyfe per ceyue and knowe that for the good opinion that thou haste of her, y ^t doest loue her simply and faythfullye, and not for anye vtilite or pleasure. For who so doeth not perceyue [Page] that he is beloued for hys owne sake, wyl not lightly do the same to another, for the thynge that is loued, loueth agayn. If money or nobilitie coulde perceyue and vnder­stande that they were belo­ued, they woulde yf they had anye felynge at all of loue, re­quite it with loue: but when the soule is loued, inasmuche as it maye loue, it geueth loue for loue, and loueth a­gayne. The Breaker of horsses that doeth vse to ride and to pace theym, doeth handle the rough and sturdy colte with all crafte & fearce­nes that maye be, but with it that is more tractable, he ta­keth not so greate payne. A A sharpe wyfe. sharpe wyfe muste be pleased [Page] and mitigated with loue, and ruled wyth Maiest ye: & the more gently thou doest vse & shew thy self vnto her that is meke and honest, themore be­ninge and meke thou shalte finde her. But she that is no­ble and of a stoute mynde and stomake, the lesse thou doest looke to be honoured, the more she wyll honoure thee. But yet the wyse husbande shall neuer sette hym selfe so farre in loue, that he forgette that he is a man, the ruler of the house, and of hys wyfe, and that he is set as it were in a Station to watche, and delygentlye to take heede, what is done in hys house, and to see who goeth oute and in.

[Page]A shepherd had nede to be in­dustrious and diligent, but he much more that hath the or­derynge & keping of man, the whyche is so variable a beast, & so intractable. Yf so be that the husbande haue obtayned that his wyfe doth truly and heartely loue hym, there shal nede nother preceptes nor la­wes, for loue shall teache her moe thinges and more effec­tuously, thē the preceptes of al the Philosophers. And for [...]. asmuch as the law is made to moderate the affections w ^tal, they shalbe better refrayned by loue, the most pusant of all other affections, then by any law, how elegantly, or wisely, howe imperiouslye or threa­tynglye so euer it be made.

[Page]There is made no lawe for him that loueth, for to what intent should they make anye lawe, when that loue euen na turallye doth moue a man to loue? There is no lawe made for the father agaynst y ^t child, but wel for the child agaynste the father, for the father doth continuallye loue the childe, but the child doth now & thē leaue of to loue the father. If the wife loue her husband, he is to her a father, mothcr, bre thren, true riches, & all that she wil desire. Fortunate and O fortu­nate ho [...]se. happy is y ^t house, the whiche is knitte with that, where­with the world, the heauens, and the celestiall spirites are vnited & bounde together, y ^t is with charitie. And what [Page] thing is there in this life that maye be compared with one daye of so blessed & so heauen­ly a life? Galenus was maryed with Sulpitia, the which amōg Sulpi­tia. all the Matrones of Rome, was most chast and beste lear­ned: of the which mariage Mar tial doth write in this wise & maner. O Galene howe plea­sannt were those. xv. yeares, that the Lorde did geue thee with Sulpitia thi wife? O note it, and nowe note it well with a white stone, in the which all thy age & yeares are cōprised: And yf Parca had geuen thee such another day, thou woul­deste haue counted thy selfe muche more happye, then to haue liued as longe, as Pilius Nestor. And finally ther shuld [Page] be such cōcorde betwene man & wife, as god hath made be­twene heauen & earth, by the which so great a varietie and multitude of beastes & trees is produced & ingēdred. And therfore it must be wayd & cō ­sidered, whether y ^e woman do loue simply and faithfully, for as fire doth kindle fire, so do­eth loue prouoke loue, & one flame augmenteth another. This thing sayth Seneca, hath in it self great ioye & reward: for what canne be so ioyfull or pleasant, as to be so louing vn to thy wife, y ^t therby y ^u mayst loue thi self y ^e better? If there be any thing amōg these thin ges of fortune, that the tru­steth vnto, or loueth so well, that she despyseth and lytle [Page] regardeth her husbande, be­cause she hath it not, or prefer reth her selfe aboue him, be­cause she hathe it, that thinge must be layd apart & contem­ned, as a thing rather accep­ted & estemed by the foolish o­pinion of man, then of it one proper & naturall goodnesse. Beautie is a frayle gift and a slipperous, and more profita­ble Beautye to those that behold it, thē to those that haue it: nor he can take no great pleasure in it, but a litle as it were in a glasse, and yet incontinent he doth forgette y ^t he beheld and sawe, and it is to them both a prouocation to euill. He that is fayre waxeth proude, and he y ^t doth behold it, becometh subiecte vnto filthie loue. In [Page] the minde (the whiche is iud­ged to be the man) do consiste the true liniamētes of fayre­nes, the which intice and pro­uoke celestiall loue, beinge mixt with nothing y ^t is shame ful other to be done or spokē, & therfore there is no man so farre without witte, y ^t rather would not haue her which is foule & honest, then her which is fayre and vnhonest. Thou mayst sone declare, that thou doest not greatlye esteme ry­ches, yf thou be contente with that thou hast hauing where­with al to get thy liuing, & be ing content to support pouer­tie with a litle, for why? the ende of riches, is to satisfie na ture, the which is cōtent with Riches. a litle. I wold not y ^t thou shul [Page] dest cōmend her y ^t is eloquēt Eloquice & ful of wordes, when that ta citurnitie & scilence is more sitting & comlye for her: nor a woman can not be to softe of speache. And as touching her Kinred. kinred, whatsoeuer it be, yet y ^t husbande ought euermore to be estemed more noble then y ^t wife. Nor she must not consi­der what his father was, but what her husbād is, of whom both she & her child take their nobilitie & ignobilitie, for no man shuld trust, or haue anye confidence in any other mans vertue. For we al are of y ^t self same elemenres, & god is fa­ther vnto vs al: & therfore it shuld be a very wicked thing, that christen men which haue layd awaye olde Adam, & are [Page] baptised with the bloude of Christe, & by his death made new creatures, shuld regard their bodely & fleshly kinred: for they shuld now liue in spi­rite, named christians, & resto red by Christ to their natiue nobilitie, from the which al hu mayne generation was fallē through sinne. In this nobi­litie, the which is oures only, the Grekes do not glorye of their wittes, nor the Iewe of the earthly promise of Canaan, nor of their circumcision, nor the Romayns of their trium­phes and conqueste of all the world, but the christiā, which is the spiritual and the celesti al manne only. And therfore yf it be a filthye and an incon­ueniente thynge for manne [Page] to seke glorye of his kinred, how muche more filthie & in­conueniente is it for the wo­man, the which glory nowe a dayes is not gotten by ver­tue, How no bilitie & glorye is gotten. but by the heapinge vp of riches, or els in warre by mur der, thefte, & cruelnes, as the Gotes thoro wout al Spayne, the whiche thinges in manne are abhominable, & so muche the lesse conuenient for womē vnto whome euen of nature warre & armour are denied. Many thinges might copiously be spokē of beautie, riches, eloquence, and of kinred, the which I haue breuelye cōpri­sed, because I wold not be o­nerous in thinges y ^t maye be easely found vnto the reader Use thy selfe so vnto thy wi­ues [Page] frendes & parentes, that they maye haue asmuche com moditie and honour by thee, as thou mayst haue by them. There are that wyl say, that thou art not able to sustayne and vpholde thy familie and houshold without their helpe and succour, vse thou the com forte and helpe of no such, al­thoughe thou haue nede of theym, for it is better (after the mynde and the counsayle of the wyse man) at home to Prou. xvij. eate browne bread wyth salt meate, then to be fed most de­licately & dayntely w ^t braw­ling & bitter words. Nor thei (yf they be wise men) shal not shewe thy wyfe, that they so lytle regarde and esteme the, least that thei breede some di­scention [Page] and discorde betwixt thee and their kinsmen. And in all thy troubles & discenti­ons w ^t thy wyfe, they oughte (as it is meete they shoulde) to suppoort and fauour thee, for yf they doe nat, they shall shewe thē selues vnwyse, and that thou haste no nede of no such frendes. Therfore seeke helpe and comfort of other in thy affayres and busynesses. And finallye suffer thou ra­ther all incommoditie, then that thou shouldest vse anye suche euyll benefite or hurt­full pleasure of thyne affines and kynsmen.

¶ Of the discipline and instruction of women.

[Page]THe lawes after my minde ought to be such, y ^t the citezins mai be wel manerd and haue wholsom doctrine. For if y ^t citie be wel instituted & gouerned, it shalbe no labor nor payne at al to cōmaūd thē nor to forbid them, nor it shall not greatly nede to feare thē with paines, nor w ^t rewards to prouokethē to liue wel: our flesh being infected & corrup­ted with sinne, & continually & inseperably vnited vnto the mind, doth first of al & princi­pally offer vnto it selfe y ^e per­uerse & euil opions of al thin­ges, & then as much as it mai doth fasten such thinges vn­to it as be hurtefull aswell to the one secte as to the other. [Page] And to extirpate and weede out such sinister opinions and iudgement, we haue nede of displine the whiche with the knowledge of good letters may easelye be obtayned and gotten. But it is now in que­stion, whether it be expedient Whether it be ne­cessarye that a wo man be [...]erned. for a woman to be learned or no. Some there be that doe playnely deny it. But of this matter I haue euen wyth fewe woordes sufficientlye ynough disputed in my firste boke of a christen womā. And therfore I wyll only say here that shall be sufficient to con­fute that opinion the whiche I doe not alowe, and re­proue those that of one sorte of letters geue iudgemente by another.

[Page]And in declaryng of that do­ctrine wherwith I woulde that the woman should be in­structed & taughte, I thinke ther be but few y ^t wyll repine agaynst my mnid & sayinges. Ther be some kind of letters & writynges y ^t pertayue on­ly to adourne & increase elo­quence withall. Some to de­lite and please. Some that make a man subtile and cra­ftye. Some to knowe natu­rall thynges, and to instruct and informe the mynde of mā withall. The workes of Po­etes, the Fables of Milesij, as that of the golden asse, aud in a maner all Lucianes workes, and manye other whiche are written in the vulgar tonge, as of Trystram, Launcelote, [Page] Ogier, Amasus and of Artur the whiche were written and made by suche as were ydle & knew nothinge. These bo­kes do hurt both man & wo­man, for they make them wy­lye & craftye, they kyndle and styr vp couetousnes, inflame angre, & all beastly and filthy desyre. So much knowledge of naturall thynges as suffi­seth to rule & gouerne thys life withall, is sufficient for a woman. But all such workes as are meete & apte to make them better, are necessary as well for the one as for the o­ther. A man of him self is no­ther good nor euyll, but yet through the firste faulte he is more inclined & prone to euil and cōmeth vnto it by exam­ples [Page] of many, the which haue conspired together to synne and to do mischiefe, for a man can turne his eye to no place, but he shall see the euyll that he maye ensue and folowe.

Fyrst he is prouoked by their exhortations that seeme to counsel hym well, as Poetes, for suche thynges as they in­dite and make, are receyued and songe wythoute respect of thynges. And scole­maysters the whiche do tea­che and instructe youthe, are not farre from the opinion of the common people, for wyth them they prayse nobilite, ri­ches, honour, veniaunce, and to these thynges they ex­horte and instructe youthe. [Page] Fathers and other parentes Is it not so? esteme the name of vertue as vayne, and accustome theyr chyldren to those thynges that flatter and delite the sen ses, and not to rigorous and hard honeste, as mē that loke to crepe no higher, but to liue with the vulgar and rude sorte, and yet woulde be an ex ample of lyuynge to al other. There are in like maner pa­rentes which are graue men and well learned, and yet ab­horre that vertue shuld asso­ciate and accompanye theyr children, the which perswade them to folowe pleasure, loue and solace, in asmuche that Quinciliane seynge that hone­stie and vertue is so conueni­ent and meete for our nature, [Page] doth meruaile, that there are so few good men, but he shuld rather haue merueyled, that there are any good at al, con­sidering their institution and bringing vp to be so euil. But yf by natural inclination, and by the comfort and aucthori­tye of great and learned men we be enforced to euyll, nor drawen from it by some good doctrine, what hope is there of any goodnes? all shal come to mischiefe, and through the custome of synne, we shal hate all honestie, and learne to con­temne the goodnesse of the mind, and to hate vertue. We shoulde stirre vp the figure & strength of reason, & receaue the loue of vertue, and geue the preceptes of wisdome a­gaynst [Page] the corruption of false opinions, and by assue faction and vse resiste oure naturall proues, and inclination to vice, continuallye to the vt­most of our power, striuynge with the same. The woman is euen as man is, a reasona­ble creature, and hath a flexi­ble witte both to good and e­uill, the whiche with vse and counsell maye be altered and turned. And althoughe there be some euyll and lewde wo­menne, yet that doth no more proue the malice of their na­ture, then of mē, and therfore the more ridiculous & foolish are they, that haue inuied a­gaynst y ^u whole sect for a fewe euil: & haue not with like fury vituperated al mankinde, be­cause [Page] y ^t part of thē be theues, & part inchaūters. And what a madnes were it to iudge, or to thinke y ^t the ignoraunce of good thinges shoulde cause a man to be y ^e better? although y ^t in the mind of manwere not great & thicke darckenes, let­ting him to behold & see that good is. for y ^t euill is, doth a­bound & is plentiful, and nea­deth no teacher, nor doth not cōtinue as it entered, but gro weth by litle & litle, & so bud­deth forth, y ^t it offendeth al o­ther. Yf to read that good is helpe not, it shall not helpe to heare it or to see it: for men do not striue for the forme and fi gures of the letters, but for the sense and vnderstandyng in theym included. [Page] Shal thy wife or thy dough­ter learne, howe to come her heere, adourne and paynt her selfe, perfume her gloues, to go pomposely, and with what wordes she shal vse to set forth her wantonnes, and her pride withal, & shal not heare nowe she maye flee and contemne suche trifles, adourne her mind, and please Christ? Art thou, o thou Christian of that mind? then thou dost affirme, that no fonde nor foolish gen­tile would at anye time haue beleued. Shal the womanne then be excluded from the knowledge of al that is good and the more ignoraunte she is, be counted better? Some there be so rude and dull, the whiche esteme those to be best [Page] that are moost ignoraunte. I woulde counsell all suche ra­ther to beget asses then men, or to geue their diligence & laboure to extinguishe the fi­gure and force that God hath geuen them to knowe good & worthye thinges withall, and to make them liker beastes, then menne, for so they shalbe euen such as they wold haue them. If erudition and lear­ning be noyfull vnto honestie and goodnes. and hurtfull to be brought vp amonge those, that be learned, then it shalbe better & most conuenience to nourishe & to bringe them vp in the conntrey then in the ci­tie, & much better in a foreste, then in a village among men. But experience doth declare [Page] the contrary & that children shuld be brought vp amonge those that be beste learned, & haue best experience. But to returne and to speake of wo­men Learned women are better then vn­learned. as I began, I by experi­ence haue seene & knowen the contrary, & that all lewde & e­uill women are vnlearned, & that they whiche be learned are most desirous of honestie, nor I can not remember, that euer I sawe any womanne of learning, or of knowledge di­shonest. Shall not the subtile & crafty louer soner perswade y ^t pleaseth him the ignorante, then to her y ^t is fortified with witte & learning? And this is the only cause, why al womē for the most part are harde to please, studious and most dili­gent [Page] to adourne & decke thē selues, marueyling at trifles, in prosperitie proude & inso­lent, in aduersitie abie ct & fe­ble, and for lacke of good lear­ning, they loue & hate that on ly, the whiche they learned of their vnlearned mothers, & examples of the euill, leaning to that part only, that the pō ­derous and heauy body is in clined and geuen vnto. Nor men should not be farre diffe­rent frō beastes, yf they were lefte vnto theyr owne nature corrupted wyth the spotte of synne. What beaste would be Howe greatlye learninge doth helpe man. more cruell, or so farre from the nature and condition of manne, as manne him selfe, yf he were not learned. Socra­tes, that is (as sayeth Valerius) [Page] un earthly oracle of humayne wisdome, in Symposio of Zeno­phon doth saye, ye may by ma ny other thinges & by this al so y ^t ye see this mayde do, vn­derstande, that the womans witte is no lesse apte to al thin ges, then the mans is: she wā ­teth but counsell & strengthe, therfore I exhort you husbā ­des to teache youre wyues those thinges that ye would they shoulde do. And Seneca doth saye, It maketh no mat­ter how riche, or how honora ble the women be, for she is a very impudent creature, and without erudition vnchaste. And to hys mother Albina. [...]old to god, y ^t my father be­ing a very good man, leauing the customes of hys elders [Page] had instructed and taughte thee the preceptes of wisdom, for then thou shouldest not nowe haue neded to prepare anye helpe agaynste fortune, but he regardinge those that misused theyr learning, wold not suffer thee to geue thy selfe to learnynge. But we haue no neede of any autho­rities, for asmuche as we may heare the voyce of nature, a­gaynst the whiche (although that all the Philosophers woulde coniure in one) they shoulde assoone obtenebrate and darcken the sunne, as to preuayle agaynste it. Also we haue annexed vnto nature a celestiall testimonye. The Lorde doth admitte women to the misterye of hys religi­gion [Page] in respect of which al o­ther wisdom is but folishnes, and he doth declare that they were created to know hyghe matters, & to come as wel as men vnto the beatitude, and therfore they ought & shulde be instructed & taught as we men be. And that they are no better, it is our falt, inasmuch It is the mās part to teache the wo­man. as we do not our duetyes to teache them. If the husbande be y ^e womans head, the mind, the father, & Christ, he ought to execute the office to suche a man belongyng, & to teache the woman: for Christ is not onelye a sauiour and a resto­rour of hys churche, but also a Mayster. The father oughte to nouryshe and to teache hys chyldren. And [Page] what neede is it to reason of the mynde and of the heade? In the mynde is wytte, coun sell, and reason. In the head are all the senses wherwyth we doe guyde and rule thys lyfe, and therefore he doeth not hys duetye, that doeth not instructe and teache hys wyfe. And the selfe same Socrates doeth saye, that menne shoulde be ruled by Pnblyke and commune la­wes, and womenne by theyr owne hnsbandes. And Paule i. Cor. xiiij. forbyddynge womenne to speake in the Congregation and commaundynge that they, yf they doubted of anye thynge, shoulde aske theyr husbandes at hooine, doeth bynde theim to teache [Page] theyr wyues. To what effect The husbād must teach the wyfe. or purpose shoulde she aske her husbande, that he nother wyll nor can teache her?

O howe great warres hath there bene made for women? We take great payne and la­boure to see, y ^t they lacke no­thinge, and that oure dough­ters maye haue a conuenient dowrye, and yet we flee and auoyde the easye workes, by the whiche they maye be the better, for yf they were so, theyr flagitiousnes shoulde not cause vs to warre, nor they beynge contente with a lytle, shoulde neede nothyng, but alure many to loue them with y ^e beautifulnesse of their vertue. A woman after my iudgement oughte to knowe [Page] her selfe, of what begynnyng What thinges women shoulde learne. she was made of, and to what ende, what the order and vse of thynges be, and speciallye what Christes religion is, without the whiche nothing can be well done nor iustlye. But yet it muste be religion & no superstition, to the ende she maye knowe what diffe­rence there is betwene them. Religion doeth make them verye simple and good, and superstition verye hypocry­tes & molestious. And thus shall she perceyue and vnder­stande in what thynges true religion doth consiste, & how they shoulde honoure God & loue theyr neyghboure, and thereby knowe howe she oughte to loue and honor her [Page] husbande, whome she shoulde take as a diuine and a holye thyng, & obey his wyl as the lawe of God. Her house shall be vnto her as a common wealth, and she muste learne what her duetye & office is at home, & what is her husban­des. There are two principal vertues of a woman, the reli­gion of nature, & chastitie, al­thoughe that religion doe cō ­prehend all vertues. But we wyll seperatlye and exactlye geue preceptes of chastitie, for it muste be the chastitie of the wise virgyns, & not of the folyshe. She must know that shamfastnes is coupled with chastitie, & take heede to her good name & fame, that in all places she may be vnto y ^e lord [Page] a good sauour to y ^t example & quietnes of her husband, and how prōpt & ready the cōmon sort of people be to iudge euil, and with what diligence thei do nourish & teach theyr chil­dren, She must learne also to contemne worldly chaunces, that is, she muste be somwhat manly & strong, moderatly to beare & suffer both good & e­uil, lest y ^t she being vnmete to suffer aduersite, be cōstrained other to do, or to thinke wic­kedly. If she cā not read these thinges nor yet by Nature learne them (for there be also such men) her husband muste so familierlye and playnelye teache her, that she maye re­membre theym, and vse them when nede shall require.

[Page]Let her heare those that doe reade, and speake of such thin ges, yf she can reade, lette her haue no bookes of Poetrye, nor suche tryfelynge bookes as we haue spoken of before, for nature is ynoughe incli­ned to noughtines, although we put not fier to towe. And Seneca doth saie, that the time is shorte, althoughe it be all spente in well doynge. Such vertuous and holy bokes as What bo kes wo­mē shuld reade. may learne her to be wyse, & inflame her to liue vertuous­lye muste be delyuered vnto her, wherein yet, a certayne iudgemente and prudencye muste be vsed, that is, that they delyuer her no vayne, no chyldyshe, no barbarous, Note. nor no superstitious bookes. [Page] Likewise she shal not be med linge with those curious and depe questions of diuinitie, y ^t which thinge besemeth not a woman. And as concerning morall Philosophie, those re­ligious & vertuous bokes do suffise, for vertue doth teache vs all good fashions and ma­ners. But yet yf we wil or in tende priuately to teache thē any customes, let thē be suche as shal stirre & prouoke them to liue wel & vertuouslye, and suche as be farre frō al conten tion & altercation, wher vnto womenne are but to much of thē selues inclined. Let her read many thinges to subdue & bring vnder the affections & to appeace and pacifie the tē pestes & vnquietnesses of the [Page] minde. A woman hath verye great nede of this moral part of philosophi, in y ^t which these auctours are excellent. Plato Cicero, Seneca, and Plutarche. And in this thinge those wri­ters do helpe, that declare the notable examples of vertue, worthy to be ensued & folow­ed, as Valerius Maximus, Sabel­licus, and in like maner the lau dable workes of the holy and vertuous men of oure re ligi­on, and likewise of those, that haue folowed the worldly wis dome. Aristotle and Zenophon do write, how men shuld rule & gouerne their house and fa mily, & of the educatiō & brin­ging vp of childrē Plutarche, & lately Paulus Vergerius, & Fran­cis Philelphe. There are anne­xed [Page] vnto these thinges cer­tayn preceptes and rules of a quotidiane & a dayly life, & of simple medicines for y ^e lighte in [...]irmities of yong childrē, y ^t which haue no nede to hire a­ny phisitions. I do remēber, y ^t I haue already in other pla­ces written of these thinges, & yet it shal not be withoute a cause here to write somwhat of thē again, for it perteyneth to the husband to see, y ^t these thinges be done. And I doo thinke, y ^t with this the womā be sufficiently ynough instru­cted to liue cōmodiously & re­ligiouslye. But yf she delite to read verses, prepare her these thristē poetes, Prudentius, Ara­tus, Sedulius & Iuuencus other in What [...] tes [...] shuld read Latin, or els in their vulgare [Page] natiue language. And as for the knowledge of grammer, logike, histories, the rule and gouernaunce of the common welth, & the arte mathemati­cal, they shalleaue it vnto mē. Eloquence is not conuenient nor fitte for women, although the Cornelians of the Graccis, the Mutians, y ^e Lelians, and the Hortentians be much cō ­mended, nor y ^t because they spake many thinges eloquēt­lye, but because they spake a fewe thinges purelye & incor­ruptlye, nor they neuer lear­ned that arte, but receaued it by y ^t familiar custome of their fathers without any paine or laboure. But nowe a dayes they call her eloquente, that with long & vayne confabula­tion [Page] can intertayne one, and what shuld a man thinke that she beinge vnlearned, shoulde talke with a yonge man litle wiser then her selfe, but that, that is eyther folish or filthy? And this they call the gentill intertaynement of the court, Courtlye doctrine. that is to say, of y ^t scole, where they learne other like artes of their mayster the deuill. See no we where vnto y ^e ma­ners and customes of men be come, and how all thinges do turne, for nowe it is estemed as vile, that a woman shulde holde her peace: that is, that her most fayrest vertue shuld Scilence is conue­nient and mete for women. seeme to be deforme and fyl­thye. Howe greate laboure shal we coniecture, that Sa­than tooke to perswade man [Page] to beleue this? But thoushalt number scilence among other thy wiues vertues, y ^t whiche is a great ornament of y ^t hole feminine sexe. And when she sp eaketh, let her cōmunicatiō be simple, not affectate nor or­nate, for y ^t declareth the vani­tie of y ^t mind. And al suche as were praysed of oure elders for their eloquēce, were most extolled & lauded, forasmuch as they kept the language of their forefathers sincere and cleane, as Cicero declareth in his boke of an Orator. And Iu­uenal euen crabbedly and not withoute a cause doeth saye, Lette not thy wife be ouer­much eloquent, nor full of her shorte and quycke argumen­tes, nor haue the knowledge [Page] of al histories, nor vnderstand manye thinges, whiche are written, she pleaseth not me that geueth her selfe to poe­try, and obseruing the arte & maner of the olde eloquence, doth study to speake facundi­ously. This holye and sincere institution shall increase tho­rough The hus­bandes ex ample. the good example of y ^e husbād, the which to informe and fashion the womans life, and his family withall, is of no lesse valure and force, then the example of a prince to in­forme the publique maners & customes of a citye, for e­uerye manne is a kynge in his owne house, and there­fore as it besemeth a kyng to excell the common people in iudgemente, and in example [Page] of lyfe, and in the execution & Note. performaunce of the thynge, that he cōmaūdeth, so he that doth marrye, muste east of all childishnes, & remember the saying of the Poet, This age requireth another manner of life, & other maners, and so to take vnto him selfe the coun­sel and mind of him y ^t is aged to mayntayne the duetie and office of an husbande, decla­rynge a good life not in wor­des & preceptes onely, but al­so in life and dede. The which two thinges to rule mā with­al Two ne­cessarye thinges, are very necessarye, that is wisdome and example, and that thou thy selfe fulfyll the thynge that thou cammaun­dest to be done. The life whe­ther it he good or euyll, dothe [Page] not onelye (as Fabius sayeth) perswade, but also constraine and inforce. We doe see how myghtye that thys exhorta­tion is in warre and in bat­tell. O my souldiers doe that ye shall see me doe, the which contempte of deathe in the captayne doeth so creepe tho­rowe the whole hooste, that there is not one, be he neuer so seeble and weake hearted, that doeth esteme his lyfe for the which he perceyueth that hys captayne careth so lytle for. Thus dyd Christe wyth hys Apostles and Martyrs draw the world vnto y ^e faith, for as thei liued so thei spake, and as they spake, so they ly­ued. Nowe shall thy wyfe o­beye thee, commaundynge [Page] her to be sober & temperate, yf she see thee distempered? and likewyse of continence & chastitie, yf thou be an aduou terer, and a folower of other mens wyues. For Claudian doeth say, yf thou commaund any thynge to be done, looke thou be the first that shall doe it, and so shall other obey thy law & commaundement, nor shal not [...]eny to do the thyng that they se him do that com­maunded it. Furthermore he muste rehearse vnto his wife the good examples of other women, for that shall seeme and apeare more easye to be done, that hathe bene done alreadye. And yf the mind be couragious and noble it can not be well expreste, no [Page] nor scantlye beleued, howe it shall be prouoked and styr­red vp wyth the laude and prayse of other. Themisto­cles Themi­stocles. was wonte to saye that Mylciades tryumphes dyd ex­cite and quycken hym. Nor thou shalt not onely rehearse vnto her olde and aunciente names, as Sara, Rebecca, The na­mes of [...] ble womē Penelope, Androinacha, Lu cretia, Colebolina Hippar­chia, Portia, Sulpitia, Cor­nelia, and of our sayntes, as Agnes, Catherine, Marga­ret, Barbara, Monica & Apolonia, but also those that more fresher, as Catherin quene of englād, Clara, Ceruerta, the wife of Uallearus, and Blanca Maroa, albet I doe feare [Page] to be reproued, that I doe thus commende my mother, geuynge my selfe to muche to loue and pitie, the which tru­lye doeth take muche place in me, but yet the trueth muche more. There can not lacke in euerye nacion and citye ho nest and deuonte Matrones, by whose examples thei may Familier examples be styrred and prouoked, but yet the familier examples, as of the mother, the [...]eldame, the aunt, the sister, the cosyn, or of some other kinswoman or frende, shoulde be of more force and value. For why? suche examples as we do fee, doe muche moore moue vs, and better we folowe theym then anye other. And in like maner the actes and deedes [Page] of euyll and wycked women, doe teache vs what we shuld flee and auoyde, beynge cer­tayne that suche thynges can not be hydden, and that the rewarde ther of is at hande, at leaste wyse the publyke ig­nominie and shame of all the cytye, that better it were to dye, then to lyue so. Familier communication doeth bothe Familier cōmunica­tion. instructe them, and also con­firme theyr maners: but yet let it be symple, as wyth her that is thy moste frende, and mooste familier, not vsynge her in thy wordes more reue rentlye then is conueniente, nor sufferynge her to honour thee more then it beseemeth, the whiche as at some tymes they doe increace reuerence, [Page] so thei do diminish loue & cha ritie, y ^t which in matrimonye should be most true & seruent. And as concernyng venerati [...]enera­tion on & reuerence, thei cause the mind rather to dissemble, thē to be symple and open as it ought to be. No man geueth faythful honour or reuerence to him that is arrogant and vayne, or that of right doeth loke to haue it: for honor may wel be drawen, but not extor ted. Call thy wyse by a name that pretendeth a loue. & that Phil. [...]. as some do expoūd it. maye styr her to loue thee, as doughter, or syster as Paule dyd cal hys. And she shall call thee by some name of honour i. pe. iij. as Sara called Abraham lorde. Ye muste often tymes cōmon together of vertue, of ma­ners, of y ^t errour of the cōmon [Page] people, of the vse of thinges, of the conuersation & gouer­ning of the house & houshold, of the artes & occupations y ^t ye must get your liuyng with al, of the holy institution and education of your children, if ye haue any, & howe y ^u maiste bring thē, I say not to riches and worship, but to honesty & vertue, we must remēbre that womē are so feble & weake of nature, y ^t thei nother in mind nor yet w ^t the body cā sustaine nor beare y ^t is heauy and gre­nous. And therfore we shuld oft times vse mery cōmunica tion without curiositie or of­fence of anye man, to lyghten our heartes w ^t al, of such thin ges as haue chaūced to our frendes or neighbors, taking [Page] good hee de that we curious­lye Auoyde curiosite. searche not out other mēs actes and deedes, for so shall other men lykewyse searche and inquire of ours, a thynge muche contrarye to conserue amitie, or to lyue well and quietlye withall. The mynde of man doeth reioyce and de­syre to knowe all thynges, for knowledge is a foode moste swetest, and womē in asmuch as they are kepte close with­in the house, doe reioyce and couet to heare suche thynges as are done abroade, so that they be no suche as maye cor­rupte good maners, for be­inge thus vsed, they wyll co­uet the lesse to wander and raunge abroade. Some ty­mes they muste be mery and [Page] talke, but not filthye, nor yet very often of lighte matters, for that doth so weaken their mindes, that afterwardes they can not beare ne suffer the thinges whiche are seri­ous, & of great importaunce, for that cōtinual talke of such lighte and triflynge thynges doth make them light and fe­ble minded. The seruitute & bondage of Egypte that was vnder Pharao, was in straw and mire, and to slea the male Exo. [...] children, and to kepe the fe­males. The misterye of thys bondage may be aptlye decla­red by the wordes of Eusebius, the whyche in his sermon of The bondage of Egypte. Easter, doth saye thus. What other thynge doth that hard and tirannicall seruitute of [Page] Egypt signifie, then that the deuil doch practise the domi­nion of sinne vpon mankind? And what other thing meant those horrible & vile cōmaun­dementes in mire and straw, but the abhominable & dete­stable contagiousnes of deue­lish vice and sinne? for the vn­frutefull and voyd workes of this life, are strawe, a verye mete & a conuenient thing for fire. And the commaundemēt of Pharao, y ^t the male childrē of the Hebrues shuld be slayne & the females reserued, kepte, & nourished, doth opē the na­ture of Sathan y ^t verye ene­my of the sprite, the frend of y ^t flesh, & the hater of al vertue: the which consenting to vice & voluptuousnes, choked vp [Page] fortitude, & nourished concu­piscence, thus sayeth Eusebius the bishoppe of Emyse, Thou Uncleane īportes & playes. shalt not onlye abstayne from vnclene sportes, but also frō playes, & filthye touchinges, lest thou shew thy selfe rather to be a louer then a husbande. Zistus doeth saye, that the fer­uente louer of his owne wife, is an aduouterer. For a wyfe is (as y ^t prince of Rome sayd) a name of dignitie, and not of pleasure. Be not thou y ^t desi­reste to haue a chaste wife (for what is he that coueteth not that, although he be foolish) y ^t firste that shall inflame her to letchery, and to thinke euyll. What a madnes were it to de fyle and corrupt that thyng, the whyche yf thou shouldest [Page] not enioye it pure and whole, shoulde be vnto thee a thinge most molestious & greuous? Neuer kindle thou that fire, the whiche thou canste not quenche agayn. We are made al of towe, & to what part soe­uer y ^t fire aprocheth we burne & letcherye is thorowout all the body dispersed. The wise phisitions do astonishe al such mēbers, as can not be healed. First let vs study to be whole & secōdarely to fele no payne. We do see, y ^t wise men continu allye do studye, y ^t no occasions be geuen to euill thoughtes. There were in times past cer Religiōs of chasti­sye. tayne religions of chastitie, y ^t whiche auoyded with al dili­gence as wel wordes, as al o ther thinges y ^t might sollicite [Page] them to letchery, nor y ^e onlye in holye religion, but also a­mong those monkes, y ^e which inhabited one of the Ciclades, & kept in another of thē suche beastes, as were necessary for their sustinaunce & liuing, be­cause they wolde not see them ingender carnally together. At Rome in the sacrifices of the good goddes, it was not lawfull to behold or looke v­pon a paynted man. And in Lacedemon, and the ylande of Delo, it was a thyng moste detestable, y ^t any dogge shuld enter into the temple, inas­much as it is a verye luxuri­ous beaste, and therefore the prieste of Delo was inhibited once to name or to speake of a dogge. Augustus dyd forbidde [Page] women to be presente at the playes of those, y ^t played and were naked. And for the time of y ^t olimpical striues & pasti­mes the women departed frō Pisa. If we be corrupted by y ^e eares, as Minander doth saye, no meruayle yf we be corrup­ted by the eyes, by the which, corruptiō semblablemēt doth descende vnto the soule. Stu dy as much as shal lye in thee, that thy house be cleane from all filthines. Chastitie is kept with shamefastnes, nor y ^e one can not be without the other, for shamfastnes is it y ^e kepeth the woman, insomuch that I Shame­fastnes. wold wishe, y ^t the yonge wo­manne after she be defloured, shoulde be kept close for a cer­tayn dayes, as we read of Eli [Page] zabeth Zacharias wife, inas­much Luc. i. as she being stroken in age, had cōpanted w ^t her hus­band. They y ^t did so institute & ordeyn matrimony, y ^t they, Thecause of betro­themētes which were handfasted shuld not incōtmently lye together had a regard vnto shamefast­nes, to thintent she shuld not be familiar, nor so spedely in­termedle w ^t him, whome per­thaūce she neuer saw before, y ^u which thing cā not be done w ^t out y ^t great losse of shāfastnes & chastity, in y ^e which doth cō ­siste a greate part of all good maners, & publike quietnes a mōg al nations. Some there be betrothed y ^t cā not tary ne abstayn, y ^e which do both hurt them selues & eke their spou­ses. Iacob was many yeares [Page] in the self same pastures with Rachel whom he loued, y ^t whi­che Genesis xxix. was also promised him, & called his wife: and yet he v­ced her most holely. Suche a man hauing two wyues is e­stemed farre aboue the chasti tie of many, as S. Augustine dothe affirme of Abrahā Ja­cobs grandfather, and he lo­ued Rachel euen vnto death: and helde her for hys wyfe wyth all honestye. If thy wyfe other by nature or by custome be shamefast, increace thou the same by vse and do­ctrine, yf she be lasciuious and wanton, refrayne it so with seuere disciplyne and corre­ction, that thou forgette not to liue merely and swete­lye wyth her, and in chasti­tye, [Page] puritie and cleannesse. Paule doeth commaunde, Hc. xiij that matrimonye shoulde be honorable amonge all men, and the bed vndefiled. And to the Thessalonians he say­eth. i. th. iiij. Let euerye man vse his owne vessell in sanctification and holynes. The whiche sen tence whether we vnderstād it of oure owne bodyes, or of our wyues, it pertayneth to refrayne the immoderate pleasure and voluptuousnes of the bodye. Matrimonye is a sacramente and (as Paule Ephe. v sayeth) a misterye of greate thynges, & therfore it ought not to be defyled nor spotted. The Deuyll kylled seuen of Saras husbandes, the why­che moued with her beautye, [Page] began their mariage with car nal lust & pleasure: but Toby was preserued, the which be­inge aduised & counseyled by the angel, began his mariage with praier. It shall be meete & conuenient to rehearse the wordes of the angell saynge: I wyl shew thee vpon whom that Sathan hathe power & dominion. Thei that cast god Tob. vi from them, and marry to content and satisfie bodelye luste, as doeth the horse and mule, whiche haue no vuderstan­ding, may soone be ouerthro­wen by the deuyll: but after y ^u hast married thy wife, go thy waye into thy chamber, and abstaynyng thre dayes from her, geue thy selfe to prayer with her, and in the fyrste [Page] nyght thou shalt burne the li­uer of the fyshe, and the deuil shalbe dreuen awaye. The se­conde nyghte thou shalte be admitted vnto the companye of saynctes. The third night shalt y ^u obtaine the blessyng of God, so that whole children shalbe borne of you. And after the third nighte be past, take thy wyfe vnto thee in y ^t feare of god, and moore for the de­syre of children, then bodelye lust, that in the seede of Abra­ham thou mayst obtayne the blessyng in children, This did Raphel saie vnto Toby.

Therefore yf thou haue marryed a wyfe to haue chil­dren, geue thy mynde to that onelye, and not to luxurious­nesse, folowynge the steppes [Page] of those old and holy fathers, the whiche dyd marrye for that thynge onelye: and ther fore when they were greate with chylde, they vsed them [...]eastes are lesse Auxnrious then men. no more. And in thys thynge beastes doe excell menne, the whiche at certayne tymes ap poynted doe geue theym sel­ues to carnal copulation, and afterwardes doe abstayne.

But yf thou after the counsel of the Apostle doe vse matri­monye [...]. co. vij as a remedye agaynst fornication, thou shuldest not styrre vp infirinitie and sicke­nes, to the intent thou migh­test vse Phisicke, the whyche doeth greatlye hurte and di­splease men, except it be takē when necessi [...]ie requireth.

And who woulde receyue or [Page] take a medicine for any delite or pleasure? We shoulde cu­stome the bodye from Phy­sicke, excepte that necessitie constrayne it, or that the ma­litiousnes therof, if we lacked it, shoulde ouercome vs. And [...]. Plutarche doeth saye, that the rare vse of bodelye pleasure doth commende it, and make it more pleasaunte and dele­ctable. And sooner thou shalt be holpen & healed with one medicine, then with a thou­sand. And yf y ^u accustome thy selfe to doe iustyce, thou must leaue of and refuse some thynges that are graunted by the lawe. And learne thou to ab­stayne frome other mennes goodes, by abstaynyng from thyne owne. Thou muste [Page] learne also what the apostle sayeth. Thou haste no power (sayeth he) vpon thyne owne body, but thy wyfe, & likewise the woman is vnder the po­wer and yocke of her husbād, so that nother of theym is at hys libertie withoute the as­sent of the other. She doeth greatlye offende thee, yf she communicate her body to anye other, & thou in like ma­ner doest offēd her: & ye both doe offend god, as suertie to you both for eche other. I do not searche and inquire what is lawful by mannes law, nor what men haue vsurped, but certes god wyll punishe that [...]iurye who soeuer doeth it, whose diuinitie and godhead in y ^t matrimonye is violated, [Page] with whō ther is no differēce Rom. [...]. ofsexe nor kinred, of natiou or of person. The solaces & plea­sures of those which are mar ryed, must be rare & sober, re­membring that thei are men, Marryed mens sola ces & plea sures. and naturally strong of mind to seke out laude & renowne by labor, and y ^t they haue past that age, vnto the which it se meth y ^t some solace & pleasure might haue ben grāted & per mitted. Likewise he must re­mēbre y ^t he is set to rule & go­uerne y ^t familye, y ^t is, to geue good preceptes, & to liue ac­cordingly, for els he shuld tres pase through a verye euil ex­ample, & so doing shoulde not kepe y ^t maiest ye that is nede­full and necessarye for a go­uerner. And finally he ought [Page] to remember that he is a chri sten manne, and that he hath forsaken the worlde, and the pleasures of the same, and therfore in matrymony must be moderate pleasure and pa­stymes, as though they went aboute to seke a refreshynge onelye of theyr cares and la­bours, and not a mayntay­nynge and a continuūnce of theyr cupidities and bodelye pleasures. And the women in semblable maner muste be at these pastymes, that as she is partaker of the trauell and payne, she maye lykewyse re­ioyse in theyr recreations, that beynge therwith refre­shed, she maye be the more a­ble to sustayne and beare the burden. Of what wyll and [Page] mind shal we thinke that wo­man to be, that seeth her selfe a companyon & felow in hea­uy & greuous thinges, and in al solaces & pleasures an out­cast and abiected. This thing woulde displease a man, and much more a tender & an im­potent woman: and specially when they see and perceyue that they are excluded from those delectations, sportes & pleasures, y ^t which of nature shoulde be common betwixte the wise and y ^t husbād. What shoulde I say of those husban des. the whiche with vnlaw­full pleasures prouoke theyr wyues, and cause theym in a maner to be madde: Of the whiche Isocrates in Simachio doeth saye thus. [Page] Nicocles the kyng of Salamina doeth speake. I haue con­demned besides and aboue al these thynges, the flagitious­nes of those that haue marri ed wyues to liue a common life with them, and not being w ^t them contented, haue tho­rough their own carnal plea­sures iniuried thē, but yf they by them shuld suffer, yea wer it neuer so litle, any like thing they would bitterly disdaine therat: and being to all other good and gentle, would shew them selues to their wyues most sharpe and vngentle, to whom they should vse them selues most peacesably and be ningly, in asmuche as thei are most familier amonge the se­cretes of their life, and parta­kers [Page] of y ^e best of their goodes and substaunce, & thus the ig­noraunt do norishe sedicion, & behind them do leaue discen­tion, Thus sayth Isocrates: but yf they geue good coūsel that exhort thē to be humble, whi­ch are by fortune exalted, to y ^t end they shuld be lesse enuied, how much better should it be for y ^t husbād, to geue his wife no cause nor occasion to be ge lous, wherof ariseth great e­uil & mischife, for why y ^e mind being traueyled & greued w ^t such a passiō doth not feare to destroy it selfe, so it mai bring to an end y ^t it desireth. Some do beleue y ^t they do but gest & play, but suche play for y ^e most parte and most commonly do eth tourne vnto madnes.

[Page]And therfore we should take the better heede to obserue the auisementes and precep­tes of holy scripture aboue a­nye other rule or precepte of philosophye, and consider the saying of the holy Apostle.

Begyle not youre wyues, ex­cepte i. co vij it be by a common con­sent to geue your selues to fa styng or prayer, & that done, come spedely together again, least that Sathan throughe your incontinencie do tempt you. A christian oughte euen verye often to erect him selfe in spirite, and beleue that he shuld not passe ouer & cōsume his dayes in carnal & fleshely thoughtes, for yf he lyue not in spirite, as a christian shulde doe, he nother satisfieth hys [Page] name, nor yet his proffession, nor they shall not obtayne that promysed felicitie, but with a spirituall and a ghost­lye lyfe, wherwith they must be vnited and coupled vnto god, and to that moste purest spirite, vnto the which no mā can approche nor come, but by the puritie and clennes of spi rite, the whiche is so muche the more made perfect, howe much it doth study to sepera­te and deuide it selfe from the contagiousnes & infection of the fleashe. As longe as by the cōmaundement of the ce­lestial god, we are included in this mortall bodye, we muste prouide that the spirite may lyue, and y ^t the body maye la­bor & serue y ^t spirite, as we do [Page] perceyue & see in a horse, for if he be scarcelye fed, he cannot beare the burden, & if he be de licatly fed, he wil be stuburne, But as oyle must at certayne times be powred into y ^t lāpe that it maye burne, so are the times, in the which we do in­fūde & powre oyle both into y ^t body & soule, These two haue their time to be restored, al­though at no time, for our ty­me being, we shuld fuffer thē to perishe, taking good heede that by the restoring of y ^t one, the other be not extingui­shed, nor that by seruyng of y ^t one, the other waxe slacke & feeble. Therfore, when w ^t fa­stynge & prayer we do water the spirite w ^t oyle, Paule wyl [...]. co. vij leth vs to refrayne frō those works y ^t resiste, & as it wer, do [Page] water the oyle, y ^t doeth bathe the spirite. Fastynge doeth Fastyng. kepe vnder the bodye, & sub­dueth it, that it let not the spi rite, of this the flamynge and burnyng spirite doth eleuate and lift vp it self in praier, the Prayer. which is a meditacion of high thinges, not of one houre, but of many daies, for to accusto­me y ^t mind to those workes, y ^t whiche after it be dissolued & loused frō y ^t body, it must per­forme & do. The lord whē we Mat. vi pray willeth vs to speake few Luce. xviij. words, & to be long in medita tion, and therfore he admoni­sheth vs to praye continualy. And Paules mind is, that we beyng geuen to this medita­tion, i. co. vij should abstaine from car nal copulatiō, lest y ^t the ponde [Page] rous fleshe draw vs frō it, in­asmuch Carnall copulatiō as that carnal copula tion of it self is a beastly thing twinynge the mind from his highe contemplation. And y ^e wise mā, when it was asked hym when that a man should [...] vse that carnal & fleshly acte, answered, that whē he wolde be equal w ^t a beast. All the life of a christian man should be a continual fast, & no day shulde escape w ^t out prayer, & somty­mes of the yere christian men Note. ought to liue chast & abstayne from their wiues, & geue thē selues to abstinence & prayer, and for that time they muste not only abstayne from theyr embracementes, and frome lyinge one wyth the other, but also from suche pleasures [Page] and delites, as may prouoke the body, & obscure the lighte of the mind & soule. And then they must be thinke thē, what they are, what life is, what y ^t vse of thinges is, whither they shal, how they were takē and bought of sinne, how they were redemed by Christ, and of other thinges, the whiche a christian shuld both knowe, and vnderstand. But y ^t Apo­stle doth teache vs, that suche separation muste be done by i. co. vij bothe their consentes, to kepe vnitie and concorde, and the loue of Christe, geuinge their mindes to please God with­out any offēce or hurt of their neighbor. It pleaseth me wel to write the minde of Fulgen­ [...]ius in this matter. When ye [Page] come and resorte together sayeth he, do all thynges ho­nestlye, giuynge such place in that carnall acte to infirmitie, that the fleshe serue not to lu­xuriousnesse, but that the ver tue of the soule and mynde holpen by GOD, maye re­frayne the concupiscence of the bodye. And they which are marryed, muste so hone­stlye geue them selues to the generation of chyldren, that the faythfull manne prepa­rynge and geuynge hym selfe to that acte, may by the helpe of GOD in that be mode­stious. And in another place he sayeth: Lette those which are married principallye re­membre, that they geue them selues to almose dedes, and [Page] to prayer, and not continu­allye to continue and stande in the infirmitie & weakenes of the fleshe, but to study to as cende to a better life, that the mind maye come to continen­cy, & that carnal lust may eue­ry day more & more be bridled & refrayned, y ^t after we haue passed ouer that state & degre wherein the infirmitie of mā requireth pardon & forgeue­nes, we maye obtayne the re­warde of a better life, for the which we do tarye and looke. And this as touching y ^t sprite Also they must abstayn, when they are sicke & diseased, lest y ^t thei which are whole & sound chaunce to be infected. A wo manne well broughte vppe, is frutefull and profitable vnto [Page] her husbande, for so shall his The fru­tes of a well in­structed woman. house be wisely gouerned, his children vertuouslye instruc­ted, the affections lesse insued & folowed, so that they shall liue in tranquillitie and plea­sure. Nor thou shalt not haue her as a seruaunt, or as a com panion of thy prosperitie and welfare onelye, but also as a most faythful secretary of thy cares & thoughtes, & in doubt full matters a wise & a harty counseler. This is the true so cietie & felowship of man, not True so­cietie. onlye to participate with him our paynes & trauelles, but also the affections and cares of our mind, the which do no lesse trouble the body, then to plowe, to digge, to delue, or to beare any heauy or weyghty [Page] burden, for yf their full & bur­ning hartes shuld not disclose and open them selues, [...]hey wold none otherwise breake, then a vessel replenished with fire y ^t hath no vente, for care­fulnes & thoughtes are fire, that doeth in [...]ame & consume the heart. And therefore we see certayne men, the whiche (as thoughe they were wyth child through care & cōmoti­ons of the minde) do seke for some one, vpon whome they may discharge thē of their bur den, as Terence sayth. O Ju­piter, how happeneth this, y ^t I meete with no curious fe­lowe, the which wold instant lye aske me, wherefore I am thus mery, whether I go, frō whence I come? &c. We do [Page] read, y ^t many haue died sodenly, of soden mirth, feare & heau [...]es. What riches maye be cōpared to that frende, vnto Nothing can be cō ­pared to a frende. whome a man may cōmit not only such thinges, which are common, but also the secretes of his heart, & open most sure­lye great matters and small, good and euil, and disburden his minde, and to whome (as sayth Ennius) thou mayst com municate both priuely and a­pertlye all thy ioye and plea­sure. And of such a frend, whē the mind is so obfuscated with perturbations and though­tes, that it can not discerne, what is best, or moste expedi­ent to be done, let vs aske coū sell. There is in this life no such sawce, nor no like swete­nes [Page] amonge these businesses. If there be thē so great good nes among frendes, the whi­che at some times are so farre deuided one from the other, how muche more shuld there be among those, that dwell in one house, in one chamber, and in the selfe same bedde? A wo man well taught and instru­cted, as a faythfull womaune shall kepe close thy secretes, & as wife and learned shal geue thee good counsel, & shal coun sel thee, as she would counsell her selfe, consideringe that she loueth the no lesse, then she lo ueth her selfe, the whyche thynge is as well comprised in the christiane, as in the ma­tronale Philosophie. In com mitting of our secretes one to [Page] another, two thinges are to be cōsidered, Loue, the which Cōmitte thy secre­tes tohim that is lo­uinge and wise. wil kepe that thing secrete & close, that is perillours to be opened: & wisdom the which with knowledge can holde in and kepe scilence, hauing pru­dencye for his guyde & ruler. Tell not that to the vnwise, or to a babler, that thou woul deste not haue published or knowen. A foolish womanne maye sone be knowen by her wordes & maners, al such are busye and curious to knowe that is secrete, nor doth neuer cease, vntill they come to the knowledge therof. Such are knowen with many, and they know many, the which thing they shuld neuer haue obtay­ned, but that they knowe the [Page] secretes of manye, and had discouered theym to manye, they whisper with many, and when they are ydle and occu­pied aboute euyll, they seeme to be best occupied. There be other that are voyde and far from all good artes and kno­ledge, the whiche beynge ge­uen to futilitie and vaine com munication, doe sounde as it were a lytle bell, being voyde of all other thynges sauynge of the clapper. Some other doe take themselues as wo­men withoute ciuilitie and good maners, onlesse thei di­sclose [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] the secretes and priui­tyes [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] of theyr houses (the whiche shoulde be kept most secrete) to theyr frendes and parentes, thynkynge by that [Page] to winne their loue & fauour. There be y ^t reioyce to be takē for the inuenters of greate & couel rumors, as there be like wyse amonge men, esteming thē selues to be had in greate admiration, yf the thinges that they doe tell be mer­ueylous. And they goe about to declare of what au­thoritie and credence they be of with all other, for asmuche as they know other mens se­cretes. And because there be for lacke of knowledge many such, y ^t auncient wise fathers dyd forbyd that no man shuld Why we shuld not shew our secretes to womē. disclose his secretes nother to mother, syster, nor yet to his wyfe. Portius Latro doeth saye, that a woman can kepe that thinge secrete and close, [Page] that she knoweth not, Of this I haue seene many examples that confirme those olde say­inges. As this: other amend, or els beware. But it shalbe best to geue thy diligence to make her better, for so with litle laboure and payne thou shalt gather great commodi­tie [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] and profite. And amonge [...] [...] [...] [...] [...] all other thinges thou muste beware of thys, y ^t thou geue not y ^t rope to hym, that shall make an halter to hange thee wyth all. What thynge can be moore hurtefull then that, whereof the wyse man spea­keth in holye Scrypture. Ec, ix.

Geue not the power of thy lyfe vnto a womanne, leaste she comme in thy strengthe, and so thou be confounded.

[Page]Men saye that Policides was Polici­des. so subtile a thefe, that it auay led not to shutte the cofers, but that it was necessarye to fayne that ther was nothing in them, and to leaue them open, for all thynges were as open vnto him. And it is said, that a certayne wolfe hauing A fable of a certayne wulfe. a greate and a ryche familie, was often tymes monyshed by her chyldren of suche thin­ [...]es, whiche were profitable to be done at home: but she be inge olde and by longe expe­rience wyly, named her right eare wysedome, and her lefte eare memorye: when her chyldren spake to her on the left syde, she considered what they sayde, and agreed vnto them. But when they were [Page] on her ryghte syde, she syl­dome agreed vnto theym, althoughe they broughte home the lefse, so that it were not to greate a losse and hyn­deraunce vnto her. And whē they accused her because she lyghtly regarded their coun­sel, nor tooke not the praye that she was wonte to take, she made them this answere: O my childrē I haue brought home quietnes, a moore deli­cate thyng then is the praye, the which I kepe by the ayde and helpe of Maiestye. But when they counseyled her vn wyselye, she mekely declared vnto them theyr ignoraunce. And thus when they wer to importune she put thē backe, and when they were decey­ued [Page] she taught thē, so that by this meanes they had her in more veneration & reuerēce. But when they kept playne­ly theyr woluishe nature, and vsed her as it became them to do, she receiued their counsel, not as it were any new thing vnto her, but perceyuyng the woluishe qualities to be in thē, she commended it, accep­tyng and taking them for her owne children, so that they woulde learne y ^t craftines of the wolfe, and be modestious. And furthermore to geue thē to vnderstande that they had to do with her that was old, she shewed them the thynge, that in coūsel they might bet­ter and w ^t more effecte haue considered & thought vpon.

¶ Of the house.

THey that are mar­ried ought inwardlye in mynde to be such among thē sel ues. Nowe we wyl speake of exterior and outwarde thyn­ges, in the which the husband whyche hath not purposed to lyue miserably and wretchedlye, must not folowe the com­mon voyce of the people, the whyche are without reason. That citye is not by and by well ruled, that doeth con­fourme it selfe to other cities, nor that house that foloweth the example of the house that is nexte vnto it, nor neuer a one of vs all, that wyll lyue as other menne doe lyue.

[Page]Thys is an execrable errour, to be drawen and led by the example of other, hauyng no wyll to doe that oughte to be done, but that, that is accusto med to be done. What mad­nes is it to wyl vnto thy selfe that is euyll, because thy ney­ghbour hathe the same, or to doe the selfe same wythout a­nye consideration of the suc­cesse or ende therof: or so high ly to esteme the consent of the synnefull, that thou haddest rather suffer a certayne and a presente miserye, then to be seperated, or to goe from thē. We in takynge of deliberati­on howe we shoulde lyue, are verye obfuscate and blynde, nor we know not what way­es to take, nor howe to settle [Page] our selues, and therefore we haue neede of lyght, and of a good guyde. God is the clere lyght in al reason and wayes of lyuynge, the whiche is on­lye wyse, and that onely hath eyes, and light, and that kno­weth by what wayes euerye man shoulde entre, not men onelye, but angels and euery other creature. Xenophon in the fyrste booke of hys com­mentaryes A noble sayinge. of Socrates, do­eth saye: that who soeuer de­spiseth the preceptes and com maundementes of God, and foloweth manne, doeth leaue hym that knoweth the waye, and foloweth hym that is ig­noraunte and blynde. And in lyke maner he doeth repre­hende those that haue a re­specte [Page] vnto mans iudgemen­tes, & refuseth gods. There The kno wledge of y ^t lawe of God. is nothinge [...] profitable not onlye to obtayne the eternall life, but also to informe & fashi on euery mans life withall, as the law of God, whose inferi­or part is higher, then y ^t hieste part or toppe of all humayn & worldly wisdome. Looke di­ligently vpon this law, cause it to be obserued & kept in thy house, as a most direct & righ­teous rule of al thy actes and dedes. They are next vnto it (although they be farre frōit) y ^e with witte, wisdō, & vertue as much as lieth in thē, do en sue & folowe God, leadinge in this mortality a godly life, as they y ^t are deuout, & geuen to the study of wisdom, of y ^t whi­che [Page] there were many among the gentiles. Some peraduē ture will say: It were a great enterprise, for one to w ^t stand as it were a furious water a greate multitude. But I do saye, y ^t vertue doth consiste & veste in thinges, whiche are hard to be accōplished & done. Nor thou shalt not be alone, for as many a man hath folo­wed that, y ^t is euill & naugh­tes, so some will folowe that, the which is good and vertu ous. Nor let vs not despeare of mankinde, for as vertue is not without profite, so vice is not w ^t out losse & dāmage. We maye see in y ^t gouernaunce & rule of an housholde, where­in is laboure, sparynge. and frugalitye, what commodi­ties [Page] it bryngeth to the lyfe of man: and howe manye and greate vertues, as tempe­taunce, continence, chastitie, and fidelitie, for the vices con trary to these vertues, come of uouthfulnes, waste expen­ses, and pouertye. We haue the examples of those, the whiche despisynge and for sa­kynge the folythenes of the common people, haue redu­ced theym selues & theyrs, to iudgement, to reason, to ho­nestye, and laude, and were commended and praysed of those the whiche the contem­ned, and many folowed them, Thus doeth vertue reward itselfe, yea god, the head and father of al vertue. Shall he that is wycked and corrup­ted [Page] wyth euyl affections and maners be so bold as to stirre vp reproued and noughtye customes, and thou a wyse and a sober man shalte not be so bolde as to bryng in a good custome? Shall mo thynges be graunted to those that be euyl & peruerse, then to those that be good and vertuous? And shall libertye graunted to euyll thynges be in [...] assuraunce and [...], then that, that is good and for a common wealthe? The foole doeth devide and laugh the wyse man to scorne, and the wyse manne the foole, of whome haddest thou rather be laught to scorne? He sayde I esteme Plato aboue all the people of Athens, and I re­garde [Page] a wise man, more then althe cought of artificers, or of those that haue no experi­ence. Hadste thou not rather stand with god and wysdom; then with the contrary part? Nor yet I saye not this, be­cause thou shuldest so auoyde the common custome, y ^t thou shuldest fall wholy to the con­trarye, as yf one shuld clothe him selfe with silke or golde, that thou, because thou woul dest not be like him, shouldest cloth thy self with white can­uas or yf he weare a ringe of gold with a pretious iewel, y ^t thou shuldest weare a ring of yron, or of tinne with a flinte stone, or yf he were fedde w ^t capons & partritches, y ^t thou shouldest eate breade made of [Page] branne, or any other vnhelth full or euill meate. There are in al the actions and workes of our life certayn lunittes & measures, among the whiche vertue doth consiste, and the man that is wise doth knowe them. Horace doth saye, y ^t the foolish, exchuing of vice, do fal into the contrary vices. My meaning is not, y ^t ciuility, and good maners shulde be taken frō eities, but y ^t all suche thin­ges, as be fallen in rume & de mye, might as much as were possible, be erected & restored agayn. And asin acitie there is nothing more vnequal, y ^t e­uery man shuld be like equal, so it is not conuenient that in one house euerye man shulde be like and equall together.

[Page]There is no equalitie in that citie. wher the prtuate man is equall with the magestrate, the people with the Senate, but rather a confusion of all offices. The husbande and the wyfe are lordes of the house, vnto whome the lorde Gene. i. sayde, be ye lordes ouer the fyshe of the sea; the foules of the ayre, and ouer the bea­stes that moue vppon the earthe. And the selfe same Gen. ii creatour sayde vnto the wo­man, that she shuld be a helpe vnto the man. Therefore the husbande withoute anye ex­ception is maister ouer al the The au­thoritie of the man and wife. house, and hathe as touching his familie, moore authoritie then a kynge in hys kyng­dome. The wyfe is ruler of al [Page] other thinges, but yet vnder her husbande. There are cer tayne thynges in the house that onely do pertaine to the authoritie of the husbande, wherewith it were a reprofe for the wife without the con­sent of her husbande to medle withal: as to receyue straun­gers, or to marry her dough­ter. There are other thinges in the which the husband ge­ueth ouer his ryght vnto the woman, as to rule & gouerne her maydens, to see to those thinges y ^t belong vnto y ^e kit­chen, & to y ^e most part of y ^e hou shold stuffe: other meane thin ges, as to bye and sel certayn necessary thinges, may be or­dered after the wit & fidelitie of the woman. There be wo­men, [Page] of whom I woulde take counsell, & suffer them to doe great maters, euē after their owne industry & iudgement. Unto other because of theyr improbitie and folishenes, I would scarcely commit thin­ges of smal importance, and valuere. Agayne dyuers countreyes haue diuers fa­shions Diuers countrics diuers maners. & maners: for Mela the cosmographer doth say: that the women of Egipt do al out ward businesses, and that the men do spinne & gouerne the house at home: & that the wo­men beare their burdens vp­on theyr shulders, & men vpō theyr heades. In Hollande women do exercise marchan­dise, & the men do geue them selues to quafting, the which [Page] customes & maners I alowe not, for thei agre not with na The thin ges geuen by nature to man & woman. ture, y ^e which hath geuen vn­to man a noble, a high, & a di­ligent minde to be busye and occupied abroade, to gayne & to bring home to their wiues & familie, to rule them & their children, & also all their hous­hold. And to y ^e womā nature hath geuen a feareful, a coue­tous, & an humble mind to be subiect vnto man, & to kepe y ^t he doeth gayne. Husbandes must remembre that they are men, and therfore thei ought to be stronglye mynded, and farre aboue all thoughtes and cares. Nature doeth in­uite and call manne to suche offices, & maketh hym ready and fre from bearing & brin­ging [Page] vp of children, the which thynges women do at home, but yet with so great heauy­nes and waight both of body and minde, that scantly they can moue theymselues. And what payne is it for a lustye man to gette & prepare those thynges abroade, that shalbe necessary & meete for his wife and familie? let him therfore be waking, & exercise al good and honest wayes both of wit and of bodye, that there lacke nothyng nother for wyfe nor familie, for so shall euerye one do their duety. Who is so cru el or so vngentle, that wil not see and prouide that his wife lacke nothyng? nor he doeth not his duetye, that wyll not prouide for his wife euē with [Page] hys owne bloude. And who perceyueth not how vile min ded they be, that do robbe or take any thing from their wi ues to deuour & consume it? nor it was neuer seene in any beast, that euer the male toke any thing that should norishe her from the female, and ther fore suche menne as do so, are worse thē bestes, & iu nothing but onelye in face are vnlyke them. In the olde time there was in Grece an habitacion for men onely, another for wo men, & the third for virgines, the reste were common. But we haue no suche differen­ces, althoughe that the kyt­chen be moore apte and con­uenient for the woman than for the man, where that she in [Page] a maner doeth reygne all a­lone, The wife hath the rule of the Kitchen. but yet in such wise & ma ner, that she put to her hande to dresse her husbādes meate, and not to cōmaunde it to be drest being absent. She must often tymes ouer looke her house & housholde stuffe, and repayre all suche thynges as be woren and broken, and yf there lacke any thynge, she in tyme muste shew her husbād therof, and be muche conuer­saunt w ^t her chyldren, & with her maidēs, but sildom w ^t her seruaūtes, nor thou with her maidens. Nor thou shalt not suffer her to be ydle, for when a woman (as Publius Sirus do­eth sai) doth thinke alone, she thynketh euyl. Let her be do ing not that, that is delitious [Page] and pleasaunt, but that is pro fitable, althoughe y ^u be ryche, for there is nothynge moore Fortune. chaūgeable then fortune, not­withstandinge she appeareth to thee to be stedfast & stable. And profitable thynges doe kepe close y ^e minde & thought of her y ^t worketh, nor lightlye doth not suffer it to wander & vage aboute other thinges. And whē it is thy mind & plea sure y ^t she be occupied aboute some busines or some labor, y ^u must haue a respect vnto the health & the state of her body. Thou must not leaue her idle norso ouercharge her w ^t labor y ^t we fal sicke, namely yf she be troubled w ^t the infitmities of nature, as w ^t mēstrua, w ^t berīg of childrē & w ^t laboring of child [Page] She muste not be geuen to Playe. play, for vpon what goodnes can she thinke when she play­eth? and a womā is muche in­clined to pleasure. The house shalbe vnto her in steede and place of a great & a large citie, & she must go so sildom forth, To goe forth. that when she setteth her fote ouer the thresholde, she muste thinke y ^t she goth a pilgrima­ge. She must go onely to ne­cessary places, seking no occa sion to viset mother, parētes or any other frēdes, Paul do­eth blame those widows y ^t as [...]. tim. v ydle persōs do wāder aboute other mēs houses, wherof cō ­meth curiosite, & garrulite w ^t many other vices, for al suche vertues as be keping y ^e house were mainteined & kepte, do [Page] by decay. And Paule willeth i. Ti. v. vs to auoyd y ^e cōpany of such widowes. Let deuotiō be lo­ked vpon in the churche, and not y ^e pompe & the multitude of the people, for through de­uout prayer many of our sin­nes are remitted. I woulde wishe y ^t this custome of Flan­ders The cu­stome of flanders were euery where vsed, that womenne when they go forth were so couered, thatno man might knowe thē, & that thei loking right forth, might see al men. Nor it is not expe dient, y ^t she go forth alone, nor that she be accōpanied with many, & that as wel to auoyd great costes & charges, as to exchue pompe & pride, for be­ing so accōpanied, she will co­uet & desire to be seene. Let [Page] her cōpanye be of suche hone­stie, that nother her conditi­ons and maners, nor yet the dignity of matrimony be ble­mished, or with any spotte in­fected.

¶ Of the exterior and out­ward thinges.

FOr why? in the societie & cōpany of men, one doth infecte the other, as in frute & bea­stes. And this contagious in­fection & corruption doth pe­netrate al our senses, the wor des by the eares, & the dedes by y ^e eyes. And therfore Da­uid Psalm. xvij. doth saye, y ^t we shulde vse the cōpany of good and inno­cent men, & auoyd those, that [Page] be wicked & euil. He in the fa­ble doth marueyle, & wonder at the nature of the yong mā, y ^t being so long in cōpani with the euil, he was not infected: but yet incōtinently after the thing it selfe did manifestly de clare, y ^t he was not vntouched nor vnbespotted. Therfore if it may be, thou must choose to dwel in a wel instituted & or­dred citie, in the which be few corrupt, fewe euill maners, & fewe corruptors of the same. But yf thou canste fynde no suche citie, choose thou suche places, as are about thee.

The straungers and gestes, the which that thou doste re­ceaue into thy house, do of­tentymes become thy ene­mies, & throughe a certayne [Page] beneuolence do cause muche wickednes. Thou must ther­fore consider the cōpany, and Auoyde euill com pany. searche what maner of men they be, lest they cōueye anye flagitious personne into thy house, they which may bringe it into an euil name and fame. Such a one was Sergius Cati­lina, as sayeth Cicero, y ^e which left the house y ^t he entered in at, defamed, although he com mitted there no faulte at all. Nor this saying of Pitagoras, y ^t amonge frendes al thinges shulde be common, taketh no place in this thinge. I do speake of this vulgare & com mon amitie, for y ^t perfect loue & amitie is sildome seene: for yf it might be found, we wold no more holily regarde oure [Page] owne mother, then we wold regard our frendes wife, and such correspōdent loue, shuld be able to saue chastitie & all other vertues: for what ami­tie is that, when one man cal­leth another his frend? The customes also & maners of thi wiues parētes must be wayd & considered. Also her eares muste be kept pure & cleane. For Hiero the Siracusane cō Note. demned a certayne poete in a greate somme of moneye, be­cause he hadde rehearsed vn­cleane & vnchaste verses, hys wife being present. There be y ^t do talke filthie & vnclenlye cōmunication for ciuilitie, & him to be rude & rustical, that taketh not a pleasure in the same. And to this they do all [Page] this cōmon prouerbe. Al thin ges are helthye to those, that be whole.

But Paule alledgynge Menanders verse vnto the i. co, xv Corinthians to let and with­stande the sinister opinion of some, dothe saye, Let no man deceaue you, for euill cōmuni­cation doth corrupt good ma ners. We are infected with filthie wordes, the whiche by the eares do descende vnto y ^e soule, & with filthie pictures, the which by y ^e eyes do so pro­uoke the mind, y ^t of ryght Ari­stotle did ordeyne & appoynte Note. a publike paine for those, that did set forth any suche pictu­res, wherby lechery kindled ynough of it selfe, might be in flamed. What a madnes is it [Page] then to bye such pictures, and to set them vp in chambers? They are also worthye to be blamed, that before their wi­ues and their doughters do speake dishonestly, disclosing their lightnes & madnes, and that they in steade and place of the hearte, haue an impo­steme, wherout floweth such corrupt matter. Thou shalte not admitte nor cal no yonge men vnto thy house, for of y ^t come these daunces, playes, banckettes, & other thinges, yong­men. that hurt & waste mens sub­stance, nothing profitable for theyr honour and worshippe, the enemyes of quietnes, the verye pestilence of chastitye, and vnto GOD, the which is principally to be regarded [Page] most odious. Thou shalt not bring these thinges into thy house, nor commende them in none other mans, nor leade thy wyfe nor thy doughter thither, for y ^e were to put fire & towe together. And there­fore we do saye, as we haue sayd, that shamefastnes of the whiche procedeth chastitye, must specially be nourished & mayntayned in women, and chiefly to be had and shewed there, wher we feare of those to be reprcheded, vnto whom we beare moste reuerence, as of our fathers, our frendes, & familiars, & of those, whose cō pany we haue vsed of childrē, yf they be good and honeste. Learn her to set by her good Fame. name & fame, and to feare the [Page] contrary. There is none suffi ciently chaste ynough, sayeth the declamator, whose hone­sty is searched and asked for. And another of the selfe same scole doth saye, he that doeth not feare the opinion & infa­my of adultery, doth not feare to be an adulterer. The most valiaunt way for a man to be noble of minde, is to kepe him selfe in good estimatiō, for he that is vile & abiect, estemeth hys fame but lytle, nor yet what men say by him. For he dareth not once breathe vnto that, y ^t he despereth to come vnto, nor with laud goth not about any noble feates, and if perchaunce he finde them, he as with a rewarde doth con­tent him selfe with them. But [Page] he that is of a noble nature & courage doeth take & drawe strength vnto him, as fier in y ^e ayre, & howe much y ^e more he thinketh to be better, so much the more he doth study other by y ^e desire of laud & praise or by y ^e absolute mynde & exāple of vertue to be so. Thou must therfore now & thē blow this fier, other with thyne owne breath, or w ^t some other mās, to thende it maye kyndle and burne as it ought to doe. It shalbe profitable to know the maner and fashion of Eubolus, Eubo­lus. the mayster of exercise and de fence, the whyche goynge in­to the scole of the yonge man Accetes, dyd by and by frame hym selfe to folow the gestu­re of Asbites the Crotoniate, [Page] the which exercised him selfe in the fiue artes of plaies, and had wonne the game of y ^e cir­cle. Those in whom he saw a faulte other in runninge or in wrastlyng, or that had wonne the price by any fraude or dis­teyte, he blamed, and that to feare y ^e yonge man from folo­wing & ensuyng thē, and to y ^e intent he shuld perceyue and know, that such deades were not cōmended ther, nor shuld not be cloked, but that they which brake the order and ru les of the scole, should be rebu lied. Eubolus commended all those, that frequented the same scole, and y ^t to incourage the yonge man to haue a de­syre to be in like maner cōmē ­ded, and to be ashamed in the [Page] presēce of so many noble & va­liaunt menne, to be rebuked. Hercules doeth speake wel and naturally in Neuio, saying: O my father, I do reioyce to be lauded and praysed of thee, whiche arte prayse worthye. Nor Themistocles the Atheni­ane coulde not stepe, when he mused vpon the tryumphes of My Isiades, Nor Achilles shuld not so greatlye haue estemed the glorye of the warre, yf Thersites had only beheld & lo­ked vpō his noble actes, but y ^e Aiaces, the Diomedi, the Vlissi, the Nestori, the Chyldren of Atreus, and Hector his enemye dyd pricke them forwardes, the whiche woulde not haue bene slacke to haue woūded him, yf his corage or force had [Page] fayled him. Nor this was no dull spurre, nor no smale pro­uocation. O my companions and felowes with how great Disclose not the secretes of matrimo­nye. sorow shall Grece mourne to depart frō hēce, & how ioyful shall Priamus & his people be? Thou must circumspectlye & wisely speake to other men of thy wife, for y ^e secretes of ma­trimony are as wer it miste­ries, wher vnto thou shuldest admit no man: for yf thou do, thou shalt be taken as vnwise and folishe, the whiche thyng Candales y ^e kynge of Lidia hath taught vs. Holy scripture in the cōmendation of women sayth thus: And her husband shall commende her, that is, pro. xiij she shall be praysed with the affections of her husbande.

[Page]What greater laud or praise can chaunce or be geuen vnto the woman? the which thing is vnto her as a Theater full of her commendation. It is a very daungerous thing for a man to prayse his wyfe, for Prayse not thy wyfe to muche. men shall saye, that he inten­deth to sell her, and suspecte hym of lightnes seing that he so highlye cōmendeth her: or elles the giftes & vertues (a­monge the whyche gelosye hathe no place) that shoulde rather extinguishe euyl cupi­dities then prouoke thē, shuld very often through peruerse myndes be kynled to corrup­tion, as Lucrece vertues plaied w ^e Tarquinius: for there are some so importune in let­chery, that thei loue & desyre [Page] the thyng y ^t they shoulde ab­stayne frō, and the more they are remoued by reasō & equi­tie, the more y ^e flame of theyr desyre and loue encreaseth. And therefore they consyde­red the thynge moste wysely whyche sayde, that the moste surest waye was not to know a womanne, and that all oc­casions of synne and wyc­kednesse oughte to be remo­ued. For the LORDE doeth exhorte bothe manne and woman to desyre the ce­lestiall and heauenlye father wyth diligente prayer, not Mat. vi to be ledde into temptation.

¶ Of apparell and rayment.

[Page]GOd at the begin­nyng Gen. iij did cloth A­dam and Eue to hide and to couer their secret parts withall. The other partes of the bodye were couered for dyuers necessities, after the qualitie and disposition of the ayre, some where to with stand colde, and other where to repell and wythstande hete, And therfore in al cities certen apparel for very neces sitie to satisfie the eye of man wythall was inuented and appoynted. But the euyll and corrupte nature of man hathe desyred and searched for honoure & ornamentes in all thynges, in good, in euyll, in sorowe, in shame, tourning [Page] and wining that to honour & glory, the which at the begin ning was geuē & appoynted to shame and necessitie. And thus there is no ende of su­perfluous rayment, & special ly among those y ^t study to ho­noure their garmentes more then thē selues, as for y ^e moste part al women do, and many men also. That Philosopher (whosoeuer he were) sayde grauely vnto him, that tooke a pride in his apparell, go to qd he, & leaue not of to glorifie in the goodnes & vertue of a shepe. Aristotle maketh a ma­gistrate named Gineconomon, whose office was to take he­de, O how necessary were he in these our dayes that women shuld vse no inconuenient excesse in theyr apparell, & that it were mere [Page] and agreable for their age & condition.

And the Romaines hadde their lawes, bothe for the ex­cesse of meat, and of rayment, wherewith they withstoode this euill. But nowe there is nother lawe nor magistrate, for now so much as is lawful to euery man, how muche as dothe please him: or to saye more truely, so muche dothe please him, how much is law­ful, not by the lawe, but by his substance & riches. And ther­fore euery man may be in his owne house, both a law and a magistrate, as wel for the cō ­mon vtilitie. as for the cōmon example. The husband muste consider, y ^t the woman ought to adourne and decke her self [Page] for his eyes and pleasure on­lye. Note ye women. And the prouerbe doeth saye, for whose sake and plea­sure doeth the blinde mans wife trymme and decke her selfe? And the maker of the Lace demonians lawes com­maunded full well, that may­dens and virgins shoulde go forth vncouered, because thei sought to haue husbandes, & married women couered, be­cause they had founde them already. He is verye simple & folish, whome his wife cannot please, excepte she be pricked vp and trimmed. Man shuld be in loue with vertue, and not wyth the apparell, wyth iewelles, nor wyth the fayre natyue skynne, howe mu­che lesse then wyth that, [Page] that is paynted & filthy? And yf thou delite in these thin­ges, thou shalt when y ^u doste behold her naturall face & vi­sage bothe lothe it & abhorre it. Be thou so affectioned to thy concubine, but not to thy wife: for thou sekest to be pro­uoked to luste & carnall plea­sure by the senses, and not by any interior or inward loue. If thy wife howsoeuer she be apparelled, do content thee & please the (for she is one mind & body with the) to what pur pose are these anxious, mole­stious, perillous, & hurtful or namentes sought for & desi­red? Such gorgious & trim­ly The daū gers that come of gaye appa rel. decked wiues are gredy & desirous to wander abroade, & to be seene, and that is the [Page] frute of al y ^t cost and charge, & they that behold thē so gorgi ously apparelled, are therby the more inticed & prouoked: for suche araye & ornaments do set thē forth, & much com­mend thē. Take diligēt hede that thou suffer not thy wife to be an inuenter of newe or of vnwontful thinges, leste y ^t therby shē be knowen, and be come acquaynted in the city, for vsuall & customable thin­ges are lesse noted & regar­ded. At home they will laye their handes to nothing, that is nedefull to be done, they kepe thē selues a loofe frō the kitchen, & other such vnclean places, & kepe thē in one place for filing of their apparell, or troubling of any of those thin [Page] ges so artificiously cōpoūded & made. Her maydens forget ting & leauing all other thin­ges vndone, are all the daye longe occupied aboute trym­ming & decking of her. What shall I say, how great is their arrogancye and pride? For inasmuch as they are better and more preciously be seene then other, they despise and disdayne all other. Whereof springeth the enuye & hatred of the poorer sort, & kindleth the citie with hatred, where­out doth spring & arise verye often great factions, as in the time of our elders in Barcin­ni de Lelitanes in Spayne, when that the marchauntes wyues (the course of mar­chaundise from Alexandria [Page] florisshing there) farre excea­deth the pompose and costlye rayment of the noble womē, prouokinge and increasynge therewyth fonde cupiditie, or gnawinge enuye, & so one thing doth grow of another. Pretious garments require conuenient hemmes and bor­ders, girdelles, iewels, chay­nes, and bracelettes: y ^e which places beynge so apparelled and adourned, wyll not suf­fer the handes to be bare, nor to be couered with all sortes of gloues, but with perfumed gloues, and wroughte wyth buttons of golde, here vnto come earynges, and other iewelles of pure golde, and then the worckemanshyppe that excelleth the matter, [Page] and thus mens riches & sub­staunce, which they set forthe & shew in this wise & maner, decaye & come to ruine. It fa reth by y ^e apparel, as it dothe by writinges & instruments made of cōtractes & bargay­nes: in y ^t which, because they made thē simple, hauing only a respect to equitie and good fayth, fewe wordes suffised: And is it not so nowe? but after y ^t cauillations were found oute, there appeared a thousand creuesses, the whi­che ☞ no witte nor wordes was sufficient or able to stop. So the simple & meane garment doth cōsist, & is of it selfe, but the curious hath nother end nor measure. The riche cite­zins y ^t suffer their wyues to haue, whatsoeuer they wyll [Page] do much harme, for thei bring Example and emu­lation. in that custome and fashion, y ^e which euen she that hath litle or nothyng, wyl not doubt to folow, & doth esteme it as fyl­thy and a thing most inconue nient, to be ouer gone in luxu­rious excesse & rayment, but not in fayth, diligence, & cha­ste, for thei consider not, what they are able to do, but what other haue done. And therfore in certayne townes and cities euyl instituted and ordred, many womē through a desyre to be wantoulye and gaylye apparelled & besene, are content to be other mens concubines. But when the ryche perceyue, that the poore goe aboute to be equall wyth theym, they to exceade [Page] theym, decke and apparell theym selues moore costelye and rychelye, and thus con­tendynge they comme bothe to ruyne, and that strengthe at the laste (as it is in the co­medye) falleth downe head­longe. There are certayne woordes in Liui where he perswadynge for the lawe Oppia, that make for thys purpose, and are attributed and ascribed vnto the au­thorytye and Personne of Cato, the whyche for the grauitye of the sentence are worthye heare to be recy­ted. I (sayeth he) canne not fynde the cause nor the reasone of certayne appeti­tes. For why? to be lawe­full [Page] full for some menne to doe certayne thynges. and not for thee, maye come of shame, or elles of dysdayne.

So is the apparell and raymente of all menne yf it be lyke, for euerye manne wyll haue and coueteth that he seeth in another.

That shame to be coun­ted or taken for coueteous or for poore, is the worste and moste haynoust of all other. But the lawe taketh bothe frome you, seynge ye haue not the thynge that is lawe­full for you to haue.

But she that is ryche, doeth saye, equalitye doeth not please me, for why shoulde I not be sene in gold [Page] and purple? And why is the pouertye of other cloked vnder the coloure of thys lawe? Wherby it apeareth that they regarde the lawe and not pouertie. O ye Qui­rites wyll ye geue your wiues suche a battel, that they being contented to be taken & este­med for ryche, should do that other cannot do, and that the poore shuld extend thē selues aboue their habilitie, because thei woulde not be despised? For so where no nede is, they shoulde be ashamed, & where nede is, they woulde not, and what she mighte prepare of her owne, she woulde, and that she coulde not, she should desyre and pray her husband to doe. Wretched is that hus­band, [Page] the whiche whether he consent or no, shal see his wife haue that thynge of another, the whiche he gaue her not. This doth Cato say. And in what a miserable necessitie are they in that to vpholde suche charges doe searche di­uers & payneful wayes ful of enuy, daungerous, scelerate, and vniuste? These men doe abuse theyr wiues, the which thynge Paule doeth forbyd, yet that not withstandynge they loue theyr husbandes e­uen as a mayster loueth hys diligent & faythful stewarde, of whome he perceyueth hys goodes to be truly and fayth fully vsed & augmented. And so doth y ^e costly & sumptuous wife loue her husband, not for [Page] his owne sake, but for her owne vtilitie and profite: by whose industrious labour she liueth ydlye and arrogantly, hauynge greate abundaunce of al thynges. But yf fortune do turne, and the knot of loue be remoued and taken away, that loue wyl soone be loused and diminished, or els waxe verye faynte & feble. But be­inge wise, thou shalt take ano ther way with thee, for thou shalt cal to thy remembraūce, that thou waste not borne for the woman, but the womā for the: & therfore thou must ac­custome her to serue the, & so to applie her mind, y ^t she may vnderstande and knowe that she is a helper and a parta­ker of thy trauel & labor. and [Page] not an ydle mistres. Thou shalte take and refer all au­thoritie to thy selfe, & not to her, takynge diligent heede to her honoure and chastitie, as thou wouldest to thyne owne proper lyfe, for in this ye are but one. As for those delites, pleasures and orna­mentes, thou shalte de­ride and laughe to scorne, nor no more esteme them, thē the ridiculous and folish desyres of children. And so thou shalt obeye the cousell of the Apo­stle, commaundynge vs so to haue oure wyues, al­thoughe i. co. [...] we had theym not, and so to vse theym, that we abuse theym not. Thou shalt so apparel and araye thy selfe and thy wyfe, that Nature [Page] may sufficiently be satisfied & thy dignitie kept and conser­ued. And yet in thys thynge ye must differ, for thou ough­test to be clothed more lyke a man, that is, more simplye and soberlye, and the woman more exactlye and cleanlye. And as greate costlye araye doth nother become man nor woman, so doeth cleane and honeste apparell become the woman. This is the force and strengthe of nature that can not be altered. Thys fe­mine sexe doeth sette muche stoore by goodlye and precy­ous raymente, the immode­rate and vnsaciable desyre thereof maye be brydeled and refrayned, but not cleane taken awaye and disanulled. [Page] It shal be sufficiente, yf she be thus wel instructed & taught that in adourning & decking of her selfe, she do not so much regard the price and newnes of the thing, as to auoyde the vncleannes thereof, and so to behaue her self, that she be not lothed and reproued. The meane & moderate vse of or­namentes & garments with grauitie and cleanlines is of al men much more cōmended, then is that delicate & sump­tuous raymente & apparell. He that doth araye him selfe very sumptuously & gorgiou slye, of some shalbe counted & taken for riche, & of other for a vayne waster. But he doth shewe hym selfe wise, that meanlye dothe apparell hym [Page] selfe, and as necessitie shal re­quire. That curious & exqui site decking of the womanne doth declare her to be vayne and light, nor the existimati­on or fame of her beautye, whose vniuersal grace is assi­ned vnto her apparell & orna mēts, doth therfore increase or augment the more. Nor a married woman should not care nowe to be counted and retkened fayre vnto other mens eyes. O how greate a signe & token of chastitie & of A wo­mās true ornamen­tes and apparell a pure and a cleane heart is y ^t simple and meane apparell, the whiche doe then appeare most manifestly, whē all men do know, that she had rather adourne her selfe with wisdō grauitie and fayth, with go­uerning [Page] of her familie & hou­sholde, & instructing and tea­ching of her children, then w ^t gold, silck. or pretious stones. Nor there is no man, y ^t doeth not much more honoure one such matrone, then a nūber of those, that glister in their pre tious & sumptuous ornamen tes & apparell. Who did not more honor Cornelia the mo­ther of the Graccis being pore & without golde or pretious stones, then her hostes of Cā ­pania hauing al those thinges most plentuously? Therfore let no man hereafter saye vn to me, y ^e eye of him y ^t looketh must somewhat be satisfied & cōtended, for to y ^t we geue to great attendance. That sim­ple, pure, modest, & graue or­namēt [Page] dothe declare the house to be The com modity of simple a­ [...]ye. holy & vncorrupt, & commen deth pouertie, the whiche by teaching and instructing one what modestie is, doth cause him to know him self. Euery manne doth blame the poore woman, if she be sumptuously arayde, for they know ful wel in cities, what euerye mans substance is, & what he maye do. And therfore such a pore woman is reckened & taken as proude & insolent, and her husbande as fonde, that doth consent to her foolishnes and madnes. The riche are com­mended, yf they be modeste & tēperate in the vsage & vse of their riches, as thei be, which through their riches & great substance are not arrogante [Page] nor statelye. Thus doth ver­tue adourne the raymente, & man is adourned of him self, & not of his vayne clothing & apparell. Marchaūts, whose riches is in the handes of for­tune, are in more creditie, and the nobilitie within more fa­uour with the people, when they abase & somewhat apply thē selues to their qualities & customes. And it is a christi ans duetye & office, to diuide The due­tie of a christen man. that among the poore, that is wont to be consumed in suche vanities, & not to haue & laye vp such a nūber of gownes & rayment, as would content & serue many a poore woman, when that the mayster of all wisdome doth saye: He that Luc. [...]. hath two coates, or two gow [Page] nes shulde geue him one that hathe none. But yf there be any so weake & feable sprited y ^t nother secretly nor apertly wil parte with nothinge, yet let him not waste & consume his moneye in bieyng of such soft & costly apparell, y ^e which doth sone corrupt & cōsume, or yf he do intende to sel thē, yet they shall lacke a greate part of that they cost hym, as iewelles, golde, and siluer ar­tificiously wroughte & made with more coste and charge, then the thing it selfe is wor­the. Let thy golde and thy siluer be meanlye wroughte, and let the woman beleue ra ther, that she hath it in her ke pyngeh, ten inher possession, as to helpe & ayde her with [Page] al if nede reqnire. These thin ges (yf thou haue no nede of them) doe adourne and gar­nyshe thee wythoute enuye or hatred, and do sette forth thy ryches, and acquire cre­dence. At home let thy wyfe be homely and simply arayd, to thende that she maye be expedyte and readye to all domesticall and familiar busi nesses.

¶ Of the husbandes ab­sence.

WHOsoeuer dothe intend to marry, muste so dispose & orders hys mat­ters, that he departe & be ab­sente from home as lytle as [Page] may be, for it is an old saying that the eye of the mayster doth make the horse fatte, & the grounde fertile. In lyke maner all thinges, the may­ster being present, are well & truelye done. For why? the forehead (as Cato sayth) is be­fore the hinder parte of the heade. But inasmuch as we can not foresee the thinges, that be to come, when thou art absente do thy diligence, that thou be not long absent. It shalbe a helpe and for thy profite, to haue some saythful & trusty man, that may sende the word of all such thynges as be done at home. And yf thou haue no such man, remē ber to prepare y ^e one. Leaue no suche at home, and special­lye [Page] when thou art absent, that shall disdayne and defile thy honoure, kepe no such in thy house that feare not god, for Note. he that doeth nother feare, nor worshyp god, other for a presente rewarde, or els for the hope of the same, shall doe and commit al mischiefe: whē thou arte absente leaue fewe men at home, but yet such as be faythfull, but no ydle per­sonnes, no vagaboundes, no trymme and well decked per sons, nor no musit [...]ōs: for the lawes are weaker and of lesse force and strength, when the magestrate and iudge is ab­sente. And of ydlenes growe euyll thoughtes. Lette no yonge man of an euyll name and fame be in thy house, nor [Page] no suche as be greatlye ac­quaynted in the Cytye.

Take good heede to those that frequente and haunte thy house, and be sure that thou knowe theym tho­roughlye. Committe thy house to some nyghe kyns­manne or acquayntaunce of thyne, whether he be manne or womanne, whose fidely­tye is not vnknowen vnto thee. And see that they bee of some aucthoritye, for so shall thy familye and thy wyfe regarde theym, and haue a respecte vnto theym.

¶ Of reprehention and castiga­tion.

[Page]THe vice and fautle of a mās wife must (as sayeth Varro) other be suffered and borne wyth all, or elles cleane taken away, the whi­che thynge chaunseth but syldome, but yfit canne not, it muste then nedes be borne wyth all. Yet lette hym not mistruste, but wyth all meanes and wayes studye howe to amende it, leaste that thynge doe chaunce, that the Poete doeth saye: By bearynge and suffe­rynge of thy Frendes faul­tes, thou shalte make theym thyne owne.

For the mayster and ru­ler of the house muste knowe and vnderstand that he is set [Page] as it wer in an high towre, to behold and see who commeth into the house, & to withstand all such thynges as may hurt the emolumentes and com­modities of the same, or the good name and report of hys wyfe. Y et I woulde not that he should fayne any falfe drea mes of the goodnes & hone­stye of her, mouynge vayne tragides and noyses, as cer­tayne bandogges do that be kept to watche, the which be­ynge troubled and feared in theyr slepe, do barke in suche wise & maner that they cause the house to be searched, and afterwardes are soore bea­ten for theyr vaine warning. And therefore, thou shalte not trouble nor vexe thy selfe [Page] wyth anye suche bytter ca­res and thoughtes, of thyne owne inuention, least thou be scorned of other, and taken for lyght & cruel. A husbande asmuche as shall lye in hym to doe, muste beware that hys wyfe trespasse not, and be diligent to knowe suche thin­ges as he yet perfectlye kno­weth not. But gelosye doeth Gelosye. onely trouble the mynde, and causeth it to be subiecte to moste bytter tormentes.

Doest thou not take diligent hede to a peace or a cup made of glasse? and doest thou not nouryshe and brynge vp thy chylde without any gelousy? Why doest thou not the same vnto thy wife? Beleue not lightly y ^e euyl wylled, nor the [Page] suspitious in great and wai­ghtye matters, nor the ma­ligne interpreter of thynges, although they be thy paren­tes or frēdes, but yet to curi­ous & to lyghte of credence.

There was a noble man in Ualence called Carrosus, the whiche hadde a verye chaste A nota­ble histo­rye. womā vnto his wife, but yet of no good name nor fame, and of thys her frendes dyd often tymes accuse her vnto her husbande. Thys manne at the fyr [...]te neglected not the thynge, but gaue good eare vnto it.

But after that he had found these suspitions to be vayne and false, and that they for all that ceased not calumni­ouslye to accuse her, enfor­synge [Page] hym as it were to pu­nyshe her, he defendynge the Chastitie of hys wyfe, tolde them, what he hadde sought for, and what he hadde founde. But perceyuynge that they were not conten­ted wyth hys wordes, he bought him a horse of a good kynde, and prayed theym to goe wyth hym, and to see hys horse runne, in the place betwene the palace and the Trinitie churche there vn­to appoynted. And when he hadde made three or foure curses, he asked theym that saw hym, what they thought by hys horse, some of theym praysed hym hyghlye, and some in certayne poyntes dis praysed hym.

[Page]Then he drewe oute hys swerde, sayinge: I swere vn­to you by Christe, that I wyll kyll hym, who soeuer he be, that shall speake euyll other of my horse, or of my wyfe.

And thus at that time he put thē to silence. And after that the thyng was manifest, and her innocencye proued and knowen to all menne, he was counted and taken for a wise man, and a man of great courage. Reprehention, and correction muste bee done for amendemente, or for the example of other.

For other wyse it is venge­aunce, or elles a spyce of Crudelytye, the whyche some doo vse agaynste those that they doo hate: yea, and [Page] do kill them, and yet do saye that they do but chasten thē. A goodly maner of correctiō in dede to kil one. Seneca doth saye, that no wise man doeth punishe for the faultes cōmit­ted, but to thende, that here­after they shulde trespasse no more, for the thing once done can not be reuoked, but yet it maye be so reprehended & a­uoyded, y ^t it shall be done no more. There be thre kindes of sinnes & trespasses in wed­locke, The tres passes of matrimo nye. & thre wayes to amend them. The first and most gre­uous is adultery, the whiche doth separate the man and y ^e woman, & doth so breake the mat. xix. bande of matrimoniall loue & charitie, that euen by the lor­des owne wordes & sentence [Page] he may refuse her, although his will be, that she infected or infamed with anye other vice, be kept & retayned. In this thing men do vse the ca­stigation by the lawe permit­ted. A wise surgen dothe not burne nor cut any manne, ex­cept very necessitie cōstrayne him, or y ^t there be none other remedye. And yet or euer he beginne, he considereth hys instrumētes, his audacitie, & hys knowledge, & then yf he perceaue, y ^t he be not able to do it, he will not medle with­al. There are other like faul­tes, & likewise other that are meane betwene thē both, the which by reprehention & cor­rection may sone be amēded. And after y ^t thou hast chosen [Page] thy wife, thinke with thy self that it can not be comprised with fewe wordes, that with longe experience can not be opened nor knowen. Nor thou must not beleue, that she is perfecte, for afterwardes knowing the contrary, thou shalt pecceaue, that thouwast begiled. Thinke therefore to finde a greate deale lesse of those thinges in her, then ap­peared at the begynnynge, that thou, yf thou fynde any mo, mayste be a gayner. Fur­thermore The miserable esta­te of wo­men. thou muste consi­der, that womenne be sickly, and feble of bodye, troubled with many diseases, and in mind fore vexed with diuers tempestes & motions. And what grefe dothe she suffer [Page] monethly in purginge of her selfe? what fastidiousnes be­inge with childe, & after that she is deliuered? And how is she rent & broken at her vpri­sing? & to how many perilles and daungers is she subiect? wonder it is, that any of them do escape deathe. And what other thinge do they all their life time but serue vs? the doughter serueth her father, the wife her husband, the mo­ther her children. Of mynde they are not so strong as mā, their iudgement, their erudi­tiō, & their experiēce is farre vnder mans. Who is so cruel then, y ^twil not pitie this their miserable estate & condition? And therefore we oughte to wincke at many of their faul­tes [Page] and as the strōger, suffer and beare with the weaker. Paul sayth, ye that are strōg oughte to beare with y ^e feble. Ro. xv And yf that wise greke, be­cause he wold not be greuou­sly offended with his frendes misdoinges, was wont to say thus with him self. And this is a man also, a mutable crea­ture, apte to fall, & to be de­ceaued: how much more rea­sonably should the selfe same be thought of a woman? And nature doth teache vs, that youth shuld geue place to age the stronge to the feble, & the right to the lame. And yf the wiseshuld not beare with the foolish, he shoulde not suffici­ently aunswere, & satisfie the excellencie of his name. And [Page] besides al this, ciuill educati­on and maners, reason, and the sentences of the wise, do perswade this, and likewise peace and domesticall quiet­nes do moue vs vnto y ^e same. What payne and labour wol dest thou take, both by water and by land to gather a lytle moneye, wherewyth thou mightest liue quietly and ioy fully at home? Why shuldest thou not then suffer a litle in commoditie at home to haue qnietnes, without the which riches are nothinge profita­ble, nor life it selfe swete nor pleasaunte. What amitie or frendshippe canst thou finde, wherin thou must not suffer and dissēble manye thinges? Thou shulde ste in like maner [Page] waye and consider, whether the thing y ^t displeaseth thee, was done of weakenes, or of malice, for so doing, y ^u mayste moderatly correct it. But in­asmuch as correctiō is one of those bitter medicines which heale not y ^t body without lo­thing & ahhorring y ^e thing: it shuld not be ministred, except necessitie required it. Nor there is nothing y ^e causeth re prehention to be so well este­med & accepted, as when he y ^t is wise & beneuolent dothe [...]. vse it, & that thexāple of hys life be agreable vnto his pre­ceptes and sayinges. Nor the euill can be with nothing so well rebuked, as wyth the lyfe of those that are good, as it is aboue declared.

[Page]If thou secretly do shew thē way of vice, & vitious liuing, why shuld est thou cōplayne, yf they of thy owne house do as thou doest learne thē? he would aunswere him, y ^t shuld rebuke him, as the child Aso­tus aunswered, and sayde vn­to his luxurious father, that reproued him, as it is redde in Cestius Pius declamations. And we must know and per­ceaue, that often reprehenti­on [...]iminisheth the auctority Au [...]th [...] tie therof, and leaseth his sorce & strengthe, for he that is accu­stomed to be reprehended & rebuked, doth litle esteme it. It shalbe best therfore to dis­semble & wincke at smal faul­tes, and reserue the aucthori tie of reprehention to amend [Page] that is moore greuous, the whyche thynge we doe see that these craftye marchaun tes, and subtyl courtiers doe vse, the whyche doe proue theyr credence, and howe theyr prynce doeth fauoure theym in greate and ieoper­dious matters only, leauing all other smale and lyght bu­synesses vntouched. There are other faultes, the whych muste be pretermitted & not medled wythall, when there is anye hope of amendment, other for honoure sake, or yf anye other vyce or faulte, yf they were detected shoulde spryng and aryse of the same. Some ther be, that willyng lye do amende, yf they thinke not them selues to be taken [Page] as euyll and reproued per­sonnes. Gneus Pompeius in the the warre agaynste Sertorius dyd burne the whole hooste lookynge vpon hym, the let­ters whyche were founde in Sertorius cheste, to the en­tente that the Citizyns, per­ceyuynge theyr secretes to be disclosed, shoulde not be taken for enemyes. Cesar dyd euen the same after that he had ouerthrowen Pom­pey at Pharsalia, and lyke­wyse in Affricke, when Me­tellus Scipio was ouercom­med. There be certayne smal faultes, the whiche are natu­ral bothe to man & woman, & ought to be suffered & borne withall in the woman, in as­muche as she doeth kepe her [Page] chastitie, & specially when she with ofte reprehention wyll not amend, for then by thy pa cient suffering of her, y ^u shalte haue great profile & find her veri benigne & gentle & vsing thy self to suffer & to forbeare her, she wil be vnto thee most pleasaūt, for familier cōuersa­tion causeth al bitter thinges to be swete & sauoury. Thou must not reprehend her furi­ouslye, but w ^t iudgement, nor feruētly, but coldly & discret­ly, for y ^t reprehētion which is annexed w ^t grauitie & tēperā Appro­ued repre hention. cie of mind, is most aproued & most effectuous as whē thou she west thy selse to be moued wyth the greatnesse of the faulte, & not for any disdaine, nor to satisfye and contente [Page] thine affections, but to amēd her whome thou rebukest. Thou muste obserue bothe tyme and place, leaste that throughe feruentnes of re­prehention thou bespot thy wyfe, and cause thy chaun­ces to be openlye knowen to straungers, and other thy fa­miliars, whereby in tyme to come thy wyfe shall continu­allye hate thee. Be not longe angry, leaste y ^t thy desperate wyfe fall headlonge into vice and noughtynes. The apo­stle Col. iij. sayth, ye husbandes loue your wyues, and be not bit­ter vnto theym. And yf the lorde forbyd vs to be angrye wyth oure brother, howe Mat. v. muche y ^e lesse ought we to be angrye with our wyues, the [Page] which exceade all brotherlye loue and beneuolence, as we haue tolde you before, and it is meate it be often times re­peted. And yf manne be the head of the woman, & Christe Eph. v. the head of the man, he must vse hym selfe vnto the wo­manne, as Christe doeth vse him selfe vnto us, that is, be­niglye and frendelye. And the selfe same Apostle doeth call the womanne the bodye Eph. v. of the manne, as the churche is the bodye of Christe. And not wythstandynge we sus­tayne and suffer manye in­commodities of the bodye, yet we hate it not, but suffe­reth it, nourysheth it, and go­uerneth it. The husbandes reprehention muste be short, [Page] for yf it shoulde continue, ha­tred would ensue, the whiche woulde coule matrimoniall loue, kyndle disdayne, and chaunge the swetenesse of theyr conuersation into byt­ternes. Furthermore, thou muste alledge the reason and cause that moueth thee to re­buke her, that bothe nowe and in tyme to come, she may be admonished. The force and strengthe of reason hath great power in the mynde of Reason. man, nor there is nothynge that so cleaueth vnto it, nor lesse penetreth the same, as thys sentence: Thus I wyll, and thus I commaunde.

Thou muste so rebuke her, that she maye perceyue it to procede & come of good loue, [Page] to make her better, and to be without vice or faulte, y ^t the loue whiche is betwene you maye be the more feruēt, and without anye quarel or com­playnt at al. Therfore assone as thou hast chastened & cor­rected her, and that she, other by worde, honeste shamefast­nes, or silence doeth declare that she wyll obey thee, geue her then fayre wordes again, and a gentle countenaunce as thou waste wonte to doe. Ther are in noble women as ther is among men, certayne excellente motions of the mynde: the whyche to those that be not wyse, and doe marcke the thynge but slen­derlye, seme to come of arro­gancye and pryde. Nor these [Page] ought not vtterly to be kept vnder, and cleane extingui­shed, for without theym they canne not approche nor come to that hyghe and memora­ble ornament, that exciteth and moueth man to maruaile and to prayse & extolle them. Such affections of the mind are apte & meete to conserue and kepe the honestye & cha­stitie of women. Such noble women shuld not be greuou­sly or sharpely reprehēded or rebuked, but drawen frō vice, other by y ^e example or vertue of such women as be gone al­readye, or of those that they were aquaynted wyth all, or elles by puttynge theym in remembraunce of theyr olde vertue and godlye lyuynge. [Page] To some woman a becke of her husbande is sufficient to declare, y ^t there is somewhat amisse, y ^t displeaseth him, and specially yf she beare her hus bād any reuerēce. An honest matrone hath no nede of any greter staffe, but of one wor­de or one sowre coūtenaunce of her husband. But where y ^t this can not helpe, but that Note ye husban­des. brawling & staues acre must nedes be vsed, I geue no pre ceptes nor rules, for there they vse violence, but yet by mine aduice the husband shal neuer come to y ^t extremitye, for yf thy wife be often rebu­ked & will not bowe, but wa­xeth more stiffe & croked: yet inasmuche as she kepeth her selfe pure & chaste, she must be [Page] supported and borne withal. Nor the bow must not be bro ken with to muche bendynge therof. Thus dyd Socrates forbeare his wife Xantippa, whom we should folow, yf we wer so wvse as to thinke that our pacience by reason of the womā is exercised & proued, to y ^e augmentation & increase of vertue, as Iob & Toby did to theyr great profite, and to Iob. [...]. the womans rebuke & shame, Tob. [...] as y ^t lord whensoeuer it shall be, wyl declare & iudge aswel of the one as of the other. Al­so he must thinke that she fell vnto him by lotte, as his kin­red, hys countrey, hys body, hys soule, and hys wyt dyd: wherwith euery man ought to holde hym contente, thyn­kynge [Page] with him selfe, that the omnipotente and euerlasting God doeth dispence and or­der al thynge moste wyselye, and moste iustelye. Finallye, it is meete and conueniente that the authoritye of God, whyche coupled theym to­gether, shoulde sette them at one yf they were out, & agre thē. And what man durste be so bolde to breake the peace that the king hath made? Or who wolde reiect him that by some noble man was cōmaun ded & deliuered vnto him? yf in thys thyng the reuerence that we haue and beare vnto those whyche are of greate power be of suche force and strengthe., or elles loue it selfe, howe muche shoulde it [Page] be towardes god? for who is so mighty, or so louinge vnto, vs as he? him we shuld reue rence & loue aboue all other thinges. Also he ought to re­mēber what Paule sayeth, y ^e the wife & the husband are al Ephe. v one flesh. Of y ^e body do come continually many incōmodi­ties, but yet no manne dothe hate it, but to his power doth nourish it, & yf at any time he be miscontent there with by and by he pleaseth it agayne. Such like loue shuld euerye man beare his wise, and this after the minde of y ^e Apostle.

¶ Of the proceding and go­ing forwardes in ma­trimony.

[Page]AFter y ^e thou haste had experience of thy wife, y ^u ough­teste to loue her more tenderlye. And nature doth induce a man to that, y ^t which doth make swete, familiar, and customable thinges, be thei neuer so sharpe or greuous, for the vse & continuall cōpany doth so establishe and cōfirme loue & beneuolence, y ^t we vpon that occasion, doe loue dogges, cattes, horses, & other brute beastes, and do mourne & sorow their death and absence. And what thing is lesse conueniente for a wise & a well nourtred man, then not to loue his wife, whose cō pany he hath so longe & so fa­miliarly vsed? Meleager Oeneus [Page] sōne being both angry w ^t him selfe & all hys sat him downe in his chamber: The Curetes, whiche made warre agaynst the Calidonians assayled the citie, & molested them so sort, that ther was no hope nother in man nor woman. The el­ders Melea­gers loue towardes hys wyfe of y ^t citie came vnto Me leager the only saue garde of al the countrey, desiryng him to put on his harnes, and to defend thē. yea, the priestes with their ceremonies were present, & promised a greate rewarde, but he dispised all this. Then came Oneus his fa ther, a man worthy of great veneration, & kneled downe before hys obstinate sonne, Hys mother also, whose an­gre was nowe chaunged in­to [Page] humble prayer and pitici­on came vnto hym, hys sy­sters and hys moste pleasaūt companions, wyth whom he hadde lyued moste iocundly the best part of all hys tyme, prayed him not to forsake thē now in this their extreme pe ryi, & ieoperdie. But y ^t fearce mynde of hys was nothynge moued, but denied the helpe that all they with exhortaci­on, prayer, and promis desy­red. In the meane whyle the enemyes entred the cytye, and sertynge it a fier in dy­uers and manye places, murdered and loore vexed the people. Hys wyfe Cloopatra beynge soore afray­ed, came vnto hym, sayinge: [Page] Helpe vs O my husbande, for yf thou helpe vs not, we are all but deade, for oure e­nemyes haue and posesse all. That implacable and fearse heart, moued with the only voyce and peryll of hys wyfe, armed hym selfe, and driuynge hys enemyes out, delyuered the citye from ex­treme daunger and peryll. That noble man had wryt­ten in his heart, that precept of nature, the whyche he ne­uer read nor hearde, by the whyche he knewe that hys wyfe and he were all one, and that all other (notwithstan­dyng they were knytte vnto hym by greate loue and ami­tie) were without hym, and that a mans wyfe is so vni­ted [Page] & with such a coniunction and knotte bounde vnto her husbande, that he doth many thynges for her the whyche he woulde not doe for hym selfe. Doeth that noble and moste worthye boron in Ho­mer cry this alone, doth Agamemnon & Menelaus onlye loue theyr wyues? For so do­eth euerye honeste man that hathe anye poynte of iudge­ment: as I loued moste hear­telye Loryseis, althoughe I toke her in warre. That king Masuissa kinge of Numidi [...] (as Salust writeth) lyinge nowe a diynge, exhorted his chyldren to concorde after thys sorte and maner. Who is moore frendlye then one brother to another? Or who shalte thou fynde to be thy [Page] frende, yf thou be enemye to thyne owne? Who canne thynke that thou louest hym, that perceyueth thou louest not thy wyfe, beynge good and honeste? And yf thou of­fended w ^t certayne her vices doest hate her, it shall cause thy frendes to forsake thee, to y ^e whyche it is not vnkno­wen, that no manne lyueth withoute faulte, and do trust that throughe vse and tyme they shall waxe tollerable: but seynge thou (the whiche haste bene so longe acquayn­ted & conuersaunte with thy wyfe) canste not beare her, what other thynge canne he hope or truste, but y ^t the more strayghtlye and familiarlye thou arte conuersaunt wyth [Page] him, and the better that thou knowest hym, the lesse frend­lye thou shalte be vnto hym? Canne there be anye vyce (I speake of these common vyces) so farre frome the nature of any man, as the na­ture and maners of beastes be? And yet conuersation do­eth so worke, that they lyue pleasauntly vnder one roofe, and that manne doeth playe and sporte hym selfe with the Lion, and the nature and de­des of eche of them doeth so please & contente the other, y ^t beinge absent they seeke eche other: for familiaritie is of suche vehemencye and force, that it coupleth those thyn­ges, whyche are of con­trarye natures, and that be­cause [Page] malice is farre of for yf it were mixed the rewith, it coulde not clapse nor fasten those thynges, whyche are most lyke eche other, so great Malice. a poyson is malice vnto con­corde & good agrement. Nor thys herbe called mynt, doth not (as the naturall Philoso­phers The pro­pertie of the mynt. doe saye) so muche let mylke to be tourned into chese, as the malyce of the hearte, doeth lette veneuo­lence to encrease and growe. And in matrimoniall debate and discord, the man is more blamed then is the woman, because that he beynge the chiefe ruler and heade, doeth not (as sayeth Uarro) purge her of that vice, the whyche ingendered that discorde, or [Page] els pacientlye beare and suf­fer the same, for the blame of al discorde is moste common­lye layed vnto hym that is best: because he would not mo­derate nor let the thynge to come to suche a stryfe and di­scorde, or els because he was not able to doe it: In the first there appeareth manifest ma lice, in the seconde impacience and weakenes, the whyche oughte to be far from him, y ^t is estemed to be moste wor­thyest, & appoynted to rule & gouerne other. And thus he commeth into hatred, for as­much as he hath begiled vs & lefte of to do hys duetye and office when it neded not.

That loue vnto thy wife, after thou haste enioyed her, [Page] for a season doeth waxe feble and colde, is a thynge moste mete and cōuenient for those that are kindled with bodely luste and letchery, the which are verye beastes and no men, hauinge no reason, but are drawen to those deades through the motions of their senses, the whiche after that the heate be a lytle paste, shall cleane chaunge their opini­on. Also there are other occa­sions that should cause thys beneuolence and loue, in case he be not duller then a stone: The cau­ses why the hus­bād shuld loue hys wyfe. As that hys wyfe hathe suf­fered so greate trauell and labour, that she hath brought hym for the chyldren the hey­res of hys name and sub­staunce, and the vpholders [Page] of hys familye: and that she hathe forsaken her fathers goodes and ryches to folow hym, and to suffer wyth hym bothe good & euyll, and that she settynge her whole mind nowe vpon hym, knoweth nother father, nor yet anye of all her kynne. What one thynge then shall suffyce to knytte theym in loue, yf ma­nye thinges canne not do it? who so wil then obey nature, humanitie, and wisdom, shall euery day loue his wife more and moore: And the better he knoweth her, the more he wyll truste her, and to open & disclose hys loue, shal shew her greater signes & tokens of beneuolēce, manifestinge y ^t to be borne and nouryshed [Page] throughe the expience of her vertue, & through hope to be cōtinued & kepte, that in time to come she maye be like her selfe, and (as Plato writeth) stryue to ouercome her selfe with vertue. Thou shalt on­ly loue thy wyfe thus tender ly, but frō her, as srom a foun tayne, y ^u must extende it vnto The hus­bād must loue hys wyues kinsfolk. her parentes & kinsfolke, to thende that they maye well know & perceiue, how great­ly their cosyn doeth ayde and helpe them, & that she in lyke maner maye vnderstande that thy beneuolence & loue to her is suche, that it red un­deth amonge her frendes and parentes, and of thys thou shalte receyue no lytle profite at home. And yf we [Page] wil that her kinsmen be loued for her sake, how muche more ought we thē to loue her chil dren, the whiche yf thou loue their mother, can not be but most dearly beloued, & moste acceptable vnto thee: & she in like case shall loue thine, yl y ^u haue anye: & they seinge this mutual loue betwene vs, shal knitte & couple thē selues in good loue & charitie. In ma­trimony Chaūces there chaunce many casualties, as pouertie, infa­mie, enprisonmente, banishe­ment, & sicknesses, the whiche are rōinon to all men, and yet may touche onelye the one of thē, which are married, & not offende the other: as yl thy fa ther in law (of whom thou lo­kedst to haue had a great inhe [Page] ritaūce) had lost all his goods and wer defamed, wherwith his daughter also were som­what bespotted, & falsely con­uicted of some crime, & impri­soned, or banished the citie, or fallen into some disease or sic­kenes. But as concernynge thys thing, I wil only say, as nature doeth prescribe & de­termine it: for god doth com­maūde vs, to beare such good Luc. vi wyll and mind vnto other, as we wuld & desire they should beare vnto vs, nor that only in thys greate coniunction of soule and bodye, but also vniuersallye vnto all menne. Supporte and suffer thou thy wyues mischaunces, as she oughte to suffer thyne, for matrimoniall loue should [Page] haue euerye thynge so mixte and myngled, that they shoulde not saye, thys is myne and thys thyne, but that all thynge, as profyte and disprofyte, good and badde shoulde be common.

And yf ye be one and not two, then canne not she be sycke and diseased, but that thou muste nedes be sycke with her, nor she poore, and thou ryche: The whyche thynge canne not chaunce amonge frendes, howe shall it happen then where is so greate and so faste a knotte and coniunction both of mynde and of loue?

A sure and a true frende sayeth Ennius, is in a thinge vncertayne.

[Page]Her syckenes and afflictions shall declare howe well thou dydst loue her when she was in healthe. And folowyng the instincte of Nature, and the commaundemente of God, thou shouldest iudge her to be euen one thynge with thy [...]. [...]. selfe, and her body consumed w ^t sicknes to be thy bodye, as whē it was most florishing & most pleasaūt vnto thine eye, and thou shouldest serue and kepe it with no lesse diligence. then thou kepest thine owne. And as charitie through mer cy should grow & increace to­wardes thy selfe & thy chyl­dren, so should loue teach thee to do towardes thy wyfe, tru ly louing her as thy selfe, and as thyne owne proper chyl­dren: [Page] wherby she being disea­sed or troubled by fortune, shalbe vnto thee more derely beloued, then euer she was in her moste floryshyng estate and condicion, women haue their certaine smal debates & enuye, and theyr diuers dis­daynefulnesses and hatredes the whiche of verye lyght oc­casions and causes do spryng and ryse sodenlye, as of suche whose iudgemētes are weake and feble, but with suche mat­ters men of grauitie oughte not to medle. They haue like wyse theyr proper ambition and pride bothe in worde and place, and whether they sit or goe. But yet the husbande shal not encrease these thyn­ges, nor shewe hymselfe a mi­nister [Page] nor a reuenger of her complaintes and sorowes, be cause she was not honoured nor taken after her wyll and pleasure, but rather to laugh at them and contempne thē: callynge moste diligently vp­on her to see to other thinges of moore importaunce & pro­fite. For suche as doe medle or trouble them selues with suche lyght & folishe matters are more mete to weare wo­mēs apparell & garmentes, & to spynne, then to weare a berde, or to be estemed or ta­ken for a man. Make such mē rulers of cities, seing thei are so vnapte to rule & gouerne their owne familie, and hous­holde. What thinge is there moore vnmete for a manne [Page] then to moue or to trouble hym selfe w ^t the lyght appiti­tes & fonde lustes of women.

¶ What vtilities and profi­tes the mutuall loue of those whyche are marryed doeth brynge.

IT can not be wel rehear­sed nor told, how manye vtilites and profites this concorde do­eth brynge to great thynges bothe at home & abrode, nor how many losses & incōmodi­ties do growe of the dissentiō and discorde y ^t is betwene the good manne and hys wyfe. [Page] The housholde when theyr maister and theyr mistres are at debate can no otherwyse be in quiet and at reste, then a citye whose rulers agre not, but when it seeth them in con corde and quietnes, then it re ioyseth, trustynge that they wyll be euen so vnto them as it perceyueth theym to be a­monge thē selues, wherin su­rely thei are not deceyned, for yf y ^t man & his wife do benig­ly & gently support & intreate one another, they learne not to disdayne, or for euery light fault to be angrye with theyr seruaūtes, or yet for any hous hold words to be vexed or an gry with eche other, but to set a syde al hasty and cruel wor­des & correctiō with all other [Page] thinges that procede of a dis­daynefull & a furious minde. And the seruauntes are not onely mery therfore, but also they do theyr seruyce y ^e more obediently & gladly, shewing reuerence vnto the maiestye that procedeth & increaseth of quietnes and concorde. For the husband doth defend hys wyues maiesty with loue and beneuolence, and the wife her husbandes with honor & obe­dience. What shal I neede to saye y ^t cōcord causeth thē to be estemed wise and honest. And they muste nedes be good, se­ynge they haue loued so long together. Nor ther can be no Note. longe amitie or frendshyp but betwene those, that are good, the whiche doe suffer and de­uour [Page] vp those thynges, for the whiche other men leaue & forsake amitie, and breake of charitie. Nor there groweth of none other thyng so great reuerēce & maiestie, as of the opinion and estimation of ano ther mās goodnes & wisdom, the which reuerēce is not on­lye honoured within the do­res, but also shyneth and ex­tendeth it selfe into the citie, so that he is taken for an ho­nest man, and borne to be lo­uing and gentle, seing that he loueth so constantly, and for a wise man, considerynge y ^e he fo moderatly can handle so di ficulte and hard matters, and worthye to rule a common wealth, that with such wisdō and iudgement doth rule his [Page] owne house, and that he may easely conserue and kepe his citezyns in peace and con­corde, that hathe so well stablyshed the same in hys owne house and familie. And on the other syde, who thyn­kest thou wyll beleue, that thou arte able to be ruler or to kepe peace and quietnesse in the citye, seynge thou canst not lyue peacesably in thyne owne house, where thou arte not onelye a Ruler, but a Kynge and Lorde of all?

Leontinus Gorgias (the Leon-tinus. whyche was the syrste that amonge the Greekes was commended for hys elo­quence) exhortinge the Gre­kes wyth manye wordes at the playes of Olympe vnto [Page] peace and concorde, certayne men (as it is sayd) cryed out, saying. Let him first be at con corde with his wyfe and hys mayde, and then come to per­suade & counsell vs to peace. Ther is no man, but wil trust to obtayne (& that easly) the amitie and frendship of so no­ble & so gētle a person, whose benelouence & gentlenes can not be equinalled wyth all worldlye ryches. How mag­nificente a thynge is it, to be taken for good and faythfull in another mans house? as it is written of Crates Thebanus, Crates. vnto whome for his singuler goodnesse, and loue that he bare vnto his wife Hypparchia, was graunted, to entre not onely into the gate, but into [Page] the chambers and most secret places of all the citie, and ther fore the Grekes called hym Thirepanictes, that is a manne that might entre and go into other mennes houses. For no man doeth mistruste or feare that he wyll defyle any other mās bed, that agreeth so well with hys owne wyfe, & with so swete and so sure a knot is fastened vnto her. All the whole familie do theyr dueti­es, when the wife doth glad­lye and wyllynglye helpe her husbande, and the husbande his wyfe moued by the onely loue and concorde that is be­twene them: for he that is not moued nor styrde with y ^e fu­riousnes and commotions of the mynd, may easely retayne [Page] and cause theym to doe theyr dueties, so that he leaue not of, nor fayleth not to doe hys owne duetye. Thus they maye with diligence gouerne their goodes and substaunce, so that neyther of them be a­lienate & farre from their do­mesticall & familier cares and busynesses, and in their fami­lie do rule & tēperal thinges with loue. He is far deceyued that doeth thinke, that feare, rewarde, or anye other lyke thinge shal so quicken or pro­uoke a man to do his duetye, as charitie and loue shal doe. Menne perchaunce wyll not greatly meruel if theyr owne children be swete & moste ac­ceptable vnto thē, the whiche yf they wer but y ^e chyldren of [Page] one of them, yet loue myghte so worke, that they shoulde be vnto eche other most accep table & pleasaunt: how much more then must the flame ne­des burne, vnto the whiche they bothe, as it were putte torches vnder? But this per­aduenture shall seeme moore merueylous (the which vnto those y ^t haue the knowledge of naturall thynges is moste playne & sure) that y ^e children of those whiche be married & loue one another, shalbe meke peaceable, modeste, amiable, and apte to all kynde of be­nignitie and gentlenesse. For why? the qualities and affec­tiōs of y ^e father & the mother Note. (the which do occupie the in­warde partes of manne) are [Page] most commonlye transfuded into the bodies and soules of their children, and of their pa rentes they learne placabili­tie & mekenes. To lyue thus at home in tranquilitie & con­corde, is muche lyke the cele­stial and heauenly lyfe: wher­of (as sayeth that wise man in Homer) greate ioye and che­refulnesse redoundeth vnto their frendes, and to their e­nemies greate sorowe & hea­uines: and as the other re­ioyce, these doe lament when they see or heare that we be other in hatred or in any dis­corde: for the euyll and wyc­ked man doeth desyre that is euyll, & exchueth vertue, as a most pernitious poyson. But all that I haue sayd hitherto [Page] (although as ye doe see, they are of great importaunce) yet they can not be compared to thys one thynge, that I wyll now saye. At home we learne charitie, the whiche we maye vse and shew towardes other that beinge in tranquillitie, & pleased with the suauitie and swetnes of mutual and corre­spondent loue, we may y ^e ease lyer geue our selues to religi­on, to contēplation, to loue, & to geue reuerence to that om nipotēt & diuine nature. And our heartes being thus tou­ched wyth matrimonial loue, and with y ^e holy & celestial fier we shal by litle and lytle, be so kindled therwith, that it shall conceyue & bring forth great flames. And what greater or [Page] more excellent gift may be de­sired or graunted of god vn­to mākind, then that we may be made true and faythful lo­uers of that his diuine beauti fulnes.

¶ Of those that haue no children.

VNto some the lord now and then ge­ueth no childrē, or els he taketh them agayne, when he hath geuen them, & that by his secrete & incomprehensible iudgement yea with a fatherly indulgēce and pitie: For he seeth it to be for our profite, y ^t it shuld be so, lest y ^t we shoulde referre all thinges to fortune & naturall causes, the whiche thinge no wise man, nor no christen man [Page] shuld do. And let vs take it for no smal benefit y ^t we haue not proued of y ^t swete gal, for after that we haue swalowed it, we shall saye, y ^t there is put vnto one drop of hony, sixe hūdred droppes of gall: And he did e­uē reasonably rekē it amongy ^e felicities of man, to liue w ^tout childrē. And August through his doughter & his nyce was cōstrayned co rehearce euē w ^t alowd voyce these wordes of Homere. Wold god I had ne uer bene married, for then I shuld haue had no children. I willet passe Cicero cōplaynts to Atticus. Nor I wil not dis pute here of y ^e priuatiō of chil­drē, but only monish & exhort those y ^t be married, y ^t they (be­cause the frute of chyldren [Page] is so vncertayn, & that oftenti mes they do bring vnto their parentes more calamitie then profite or pleasure) seke not to haue children by anye flagiti­ousnes, y ^t is, with one certayn euil, one vncertayn calamity. Be not sharpe nor bitter to your baren wiues, for y ^t chaun seth very often without anye faulte other of y ^e one or of the other, or of thē bothe. And ye shal vnderstand & know y ^t the wyfe desyreth moore to haue childrē, then y ^e husband, as the wal that is falling, desireth to haue shores to vphold it w ^t al. Anne y ^t wife of Helcana y ^t Ephra­ite was baren, & howe did her husband cōfort her. Am not I i. Re. i. qd he better to thee then tēne childrē? It was very meete & [Page] cōuenient y ^t Samuel y ^t prophete shoulde be gotten of a man. If god do send the childrē, recey­ue thē as y ^e gift of god ioyful­lye, & instruct thē wel, y ^t theyr goodnes & honestie may pro­fite thē selues & the to, not on ly for thy solace & good name, but also to augment the meri­tes The me­rites of this life. of this life, by y ^t which the immortal reward of the eter­nal life is obtayned & gotten.

¶ Of her that is in age.

AFter y ^t an honest & a wel nourtured wo mā waxeth old, we must do as men vse to do to al faithfull & diligent seruaūtes, we loose & vnbind our old horse and oxe, & suffer them to wander and to feede wher they wil thē selues, and [Page] put them to lesse laboure: we make our bondemen free, and we assigne to olde souldiers certain possessions and feldes to lyue vpon, we make oure free minister and seruaunt, af ter that he hath well & fayth­fullye serued vs, equall as it were vnto vs, and call him to our affinity. Now much more oughtest thou then honorifi­cently to intreate thy wyfe be ing aged and olde, the whiche is no brute beast, no bōdmayd nor of no worse cōdition then thou thy selfe, nor thy hyred seruant, but equall with thee, and assygned by GOD to be thy fellowe, and wyth suche loue coupled vnto thee, as far passeth and exceadeth all o­ther. And reason it is, that she [Page] which hath bene so long obe­dient and subiecte to her hus­band, be now euen like and e­qual with him, for now those agitations & troubles of the mynd (the whiche by the ma­iestie, and as it were by the kingedome of the husbande should be refrayned) are now through vse and time pacified and cooled, so that now it shal not nede that he rule his wife or studye to obserue and re­tayne hys maiestye any more: for it canne not nowe dimy­nyshe, seynge that all suche thynges, as required a iuste and a moderate impyre and rule, are dyspached and taken awaye.

And therfore GOD com­maunded Gc. xxi Abraam to obeye [Page] his olde Sara, not as to hys wife & flesh, but as some what eleuated vnto y ^e nature of mā and condition and qualitie of the spirite. Nor from hence forth she must not be handled nor intreated like a yong wo­man, in asmuch as she is feble & her bodely heate swaged & couled. And her trauayle and paynes by the ayde & helpe of seruauntes must now be ligh tened, for y ^e infirmities of her minde y ^t blinded so her iudge­mēt, y ^t she could not perceyue the trueth, are now healed & her self made better, more cir cūspect, & wiser then she was before. Begynne nowe ther­fore to make her equal w ^t thy selfe, & coūsel w ^t her about thy matters whether they bee [Page] great or smal, for so shal she re ceyue y ^e frute & reward of her obedience, to be a mistres, the whiche was so longe thy ser­uaūt. Nor she shal not be now intollerable or insolente or a stately mistres, that so long a tyme before hathe learned to be obedient. Thus by lytle & litle ye shal learne to discerne the sexes, & begynne to pre­pare you vnto y ^t celestial life, in the whiche there is no sexe as touchinge carnall vse. For ther (as sayth y ^e sonne of god) they nother marrie, nor are married, but liue as y ^e angels Math. xxij. of God, pure & incorruptible spirites, amonge y ^e whiche no man is borne, nor no mā peri­sheth, so that there nedeth no reparation of man kynde by [Page] generatiō. This loue not fa­stened in caduke and mortall thinges, but in the soule, shall folow her being dead, for albe it she be departed, buried and lamented, yet neuerthelesse The re­mēbraūce of y ^e wife. charitie shal liue, & the remem braunce of such a woman shal be pleasaūt vnto her husbād: & therfore his children shalbe the derer vnto him, inasmuch as thei be his, & begotten and borne of suche a woman, & he shall pitie theym the more, se­inge that they be depriued of the frute of suche a mother and take her children by ano­ther husband in stede & place of hys owne as borne of her, the which with hym was one thyng, bothe by the sacramēt of matrimony, and by the na­ture [Page] of loue. Also thou shalte cause the memorie and remē ­brauuce of her, which is now dead, to be no lesse profitable vnto her kynsfolke, then it was she beinge yet alyue, for not withstandynge she be de­parted and dead, yet y ^t knot of loue the which coupled her kynred to the, as thine owne. is not extinguished: and the communion of bloude and chaunce of byrthe is a moore weker & a more febler bande to couple men together in a­mitie, then is the band of be­neuolence and loue. If thou dye before her, leaue suche a testimonye vnto her and all other, not onelye of thy beneuolence but also of thy iudgement to herwardes, ge [Page] uynge her suche thankes for her fidelitie & concorde to the wardes, that al other may vn Note ye husbāndes. derstand what maner of wife she was, and that she her selfe maye perceyue that her wyll and workes were well alow­ed, and beynge yet alyue, maye receyue the frutes of her honestye and goodnesse, the whyche in that blessed lyfe she shall receyue and take for the greatest and most tru­est. And therefore, it shall be thy part for the gentlenes and loue thou hadst vnto her (seing that thou the very stay of the house and goodes shalt be nowe taken from her, and that she beynge fearful and feble shall be destituted of thee yet onelye [...] and helpe) [Page] to leaue her to the comfort & relief of her widdowhed, such a portion of thy goodes, as may susteyne her: lest that fu­nestious and bitter daye, the which toke thee frō her, shuld some to bring al misery & euil­les vnto her, but yet this must be ordered after euery mans nature and custome. To some woman whose fidielitie, fruga litie, & wisdom thou knowest thou mayst leaue all that euet thou haste. And to some it is not for their vtilitie and pro­fite to be left [...], vnto whom money shuld be [...] instrument and an occasion of lechery and bodely pleasure. Some be [...] [...], & throughe auarice & couetousnes, very cruel vnto their owne children. No man [Page] ought to know her better thē her owne husband, the which hath bene secretly both in spor tes & serious matters so long acquaynted w ^t her, y ^t excepte he be a very trūke or a blocke, he might [...] ought to haue [...] ed out & knowen al her senses & qualities. And therfore ge­uing iudgement of those thin­ges, y ^t he by the workes & life of his wife deth know, he may do, y ^t shall some vnto him [...] mete & conuenient to be done, but so yet, y ^t loue may temper the sentence of iudgemente, & iudgement the excesse of loue. But yet of what, sorte soeuer she be, thou oughteste not as farre forth as thy goodes wil stretche, to leaue her in pouer tie. And if thou shuldest faulte [Page] in any of these two thinges, I had rather y ^u shouldeste leaue her exceading riche then y ^t she shuld lacke any thing pertay­ning to her liuing, for there is a moore daunger in pouertie, then in welthe or riches. And forasmuch as by death he go­eth to a better place, lette him not care for suche thinges as he leaueth here, but cōmit thē vnto suche, as presentlye shall haue the vse of thē, nor desire y ^t his wife shuld so remember A fond [...] quest of many hus bandes. him to cōtinue his widow still to her great incōmodity, & the perill of pitie. Let him ther­fore leaue her free, and in her owne hande & iudgemente of her frendes, to do that she shal thinke most cōuenient for her honestie, & the quietnes of her owne will & mind.