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                           PARADOXES
                             _and_
                           PROBLEMES

                        _by_ Iohn Donne

                      _with two Characters
                        and an Essay of_
                             VALOUR

                          [Decoration]

      _Now for the first time reprinted from the editions
        of 1633 and 1652 with one additional =Probleme=_

                              SOHO
                      _THE NONESUCH PRESS
                       30 Gerrard Street_
                              1923




  _This edition is limited to 645 copies, printed and made in
  England for the Nonesuch Press in the 17th century Fell types by
  Frederick Hall, printer to the University of Oxford. The type has
  been distributed. This is number 9_




[Decoration]

    The
  CONTENTS


❧ PARADOXES

   1. _A Defence of Womens Inconſtancy:_  P. 1.
   2. _That Women ought to paint:_  P. 6.
   3. _That by Diſcord things increase:_  P. 9.
   4. _That good is more common then evill:_  P. 12.
   5. _That all things kill themſelves:_  P. 15.
   6. _That it is poſſible to find ſome vertue in Some Women:_  P. 17.
   7. _That Old men are more fantaſtike then Young:_  P. 19.
   8. _That Nature is our worſt Guide:_  P. 21.
   9. _That only Cowards dare dye:_  P. 24.
  10. _That a Wiſe Man is knowne by much laughing:_  P. 26.
  11. _That the gifts of the Body are better then thoſe
         of the Minde:_  P. 30.
  12. _That Virginity is a Vertue:_  P. 34.


❧ PROBLEMES

   1. _Why have Bastards beſt Fortune?_  P. 40.
   2. _Why Puritanes make long Sermons?_  P. 42.
   3. _Why did the Divel reſerve Jeſuites till theſe latter
         dayes:_  P. 43.
   4. _Why is there more variety of Green then of other
         Colours?_  P. 44.
   5. _Why doe young Lay-men ſo much ſtudy Divinity:_  P. 45.
   6. _Why hath the common Opinion afforded Women Soules?_  P. 47.
   7. _Why are the Faireſt, Falſeſt?_  P. 49.
   8. _Why Venus-ſtar only doth caſt a ſhadow?_  P. 51.
   9. _Why is Venus-ſtar multinominous, called both =Heſperus=
         and =Veſper=:_  P. 54.
  10. _Why are New Officers leaſt oppreſſing?_  P. 56.
  11. _Why does the Poxe ſo much affect to undermine the Noſe?_  P. 58.
  12. _Why die none for Love now?_  P. 60.
  13. _Why do Women delight much in Feathers?_  P. 61.
  14. _Why doth not Gold ſoyl the fingers?_  P. 62.
  15. _Why do great men of all dependents, chuſe to preſerve
         their little Pimps?_  P. 63.
  16. _Why are Courtiers ſooner Atheiſts then men of other
         conditions?_  P. 64.
  17. _Why are ſtateſmen moſt incredulous?_  P. 66.
  18. _Why was Sir Walter Raleigh thought the fitteſt Man, to write
         the Hiſtorie of theſe Times?_  P. 68.


❧ CHARACTERS

   1. _The Character of a =Scot= at the first ſight:_  P. 69.
   2. _The true Character of a =Dunce=:_  P. 71.


❧ AN ESSAY OF VALOUR:  P. 75.




[Decoration]




_BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE_


Donne’s Paradoxes and Problemes are clever and entertaining trifles,
which were probably written before 1600, during the more wanton period
of their author’s life. Owing to their scurrilous nature they could
not be published during his lifetime, but shortly after his death the
greater part of them were licensed to be printed, the _Imprimatur_
printed at the end both of the eleven Paradoxes and of the ten
Problemes being signed by Sir Henry Herbert and dated October 25,
1632. The volume was published under the title of _Juvenilia_ in 1633,
but already on November 14, 1632, an order of inquiry had been
delivered at the King’s command by the Bishop of London, calling upon
Sir Henry Herbert to explain before the Board of the Star Chamber his
reasons ‘why hee warrented the booke of D. Duns paradoxes to be
printed’. Perhaps Herbert’s explanations were regarded as
satisfactory, but, however this may have been, the King was not
successful in suppressing the book. The volume is a thin quarto
containing only thirty-two leaves, and was printed by Elizabeth
Purslowe for Henry Seyle, to be sold at the sign of the Tyger’s Head
in St. Paul’s Church-yard. The printer seems to have been somewhat
careless in imposing the licences, for, although most copies contain
the two, copies occur from which one or both have been omitted. It is
not known through what channels the publisher obtained possession of
the text, but it is probable that the publication was quite
unauthorized, and took place even without the knowledge of the younger
Donne, who, when he reprinted the _Juvenilia_ in 1652, made no
reference to any previous issue.

The _Juvenilia_ were at once in considerable demand, and seem to have
been bought by many of the purchasers of the _Poems_, which were also
first published in quarto in 1633. This is evident from the fact that
the two books are so often found together in contemporary bindings,
the lesser volume usually being relegated to the end. The first
edition of the _Juvenilia_ was thus soon exhausted and a second
edition was published in the same year. So ineffectual did the Star
Chamber inquiry prove to have been that in this edition the publisher
not only omitted the _Imprimaturs_ altogether and so abandoned all
pretence of having any official sanction for the publication, but even
added to the first Probleme, ‘Why have Bastards best Fortune?’, which
was particularly offensive to the Court, twenty-three lines which had
not appeared in the first edition. This edition, as before a quarto
and with the same imprint, but containing only twenty-four leaves, is
considerably rarer than its predecessor. It is unlikely, however, that
this fact is to be attributed to the King’s having had any greater
success than before in suppressing it. More probably the demand for it
was less, so that part of the edition remained unsold and was
subsequently destroyed.

In 1652 the younger Donne, in the course of his exploitation of his
father’s writings, prepared an authorized edition of the _Juvenilia_,
which was printed by Thomas Newcomb for Humphrey Moseley. The number
of the Paradoxes was now increased to twelve and of the Problemes to
seventeen, the offensive passages in the first Probleme being allowed
to remain. To these were added two ‘Characters’, ‘An Essay of Valour’,
‘A Sheaf of Miscellany Epigrams’, a reprint of _Ignatius his
Conclave_, and, finally, the _Essays in Divinity_. The Epigrams
purport to have been written by the elder Donne in Latin and to have
been translated into English by Jasper Mayne, D.D. They may have been
printed by the younger Donne in good faith, as it seems to be certain
that his father’s _Epigrammata mea Latina_ once existed; but the
epigrams attributed to him in this volume are, as Mr. Gosse has shown
(_Life and Letters of Donne, i. 16_), certainly spurious, and may well
have been composed, as well as translated, by Mayne, who was an
unprincipled, though witty, divine. The _Essays in Divinity_ had been
printed in 1651 for a different publisher, but they are very rarely
found as a separate volume in a contemporary binding, for the younger
Donne, as he made clear in his preface, sought to temper the
secularity of the _Juvenilia_ by issuing them in company with the
_Essays in Divinity_, and in this way to invest the volume with an
altogether fictitious respectability.

Even in 1652 the Paradoxes and Problemes were not printed entire.
Another Probleme concerning Sir Walter Raleigh has been preserved in
the Bodleian Library (Tanner MSS. 299, f. 32), the copier stating that
it ‘was so bitter that his son, Jack Donne, LL.D., thought fit not to
print it with the rest’. Yet another has recently been discovered in a
manuscript containing Donne’s poems.

The _Juvenilia_ have not been reprinted since 1652. In the present
edition the text follows that of the second edition of 1633, amplified
from the third edition of 1652 and with the additional Probleme from
the Bodleian manuscript, already printed by Mr. Edmund Gosse in his
_Life and Letters of Donne, 1899, ii. 52_. The spurious epigrams have
not been included.

                                        GEOFFREY KEYNES




[Decoration]

PARADOXES




1.

_A Defence of Womens Inconſtancy._


That Women are _Inconſtant_, I with any man confeſſe, but that
_Inconſtancy_ is a bad quality, I againſt any man will maintaine: For
every thing as it is one better than another, ſo is it fuller of
_change_; The _Heavens_ themſelves continually turne, the _Starres_
move, the _Moone_ changeth; _Fire_ whirleth, _Ayre_ flyeth, _Water_
ebbs and flowes, the face of the _Earth_ altereth her lookes, _time_
ſtayes not; the Colour that is moſt light, will take moſt dyes: ſo in
Men, they that have the moſt reaſon are the moſt alterable in their
deſignes, and the darkeſt or moſt ignorant, do ſeldomeſt change;
therefore Women changing more than Men, have alſo more _Reaſon_. They
cannot be immutable like ſtockes, like ſtones, like the Earths dull
Center; Gold that lyeth ſtill, ruſteth; Water, corrupteth; Aire that
moveth not, poyſoneth; then why ſhould that which is the perfection of
other things, be imputed to Women as greateſt imperfection? Becauſe
thereby they deceive men. Are not your wits pleaſed with thoſe jeſts,
which coozen your expectation? You can call it Pleaſure to be beguil’d
in troubles, and in the moſt excellent toy in the world, you call it
Treachery: I would you had your _Miſtreſſes_ ſo conſtant, that they
would never change, no not ſo much as their _ſmocks_, then ſhould you
ſee what ſluttiſh vertue, _Conſtancy_ were. _Inconſtancy_ is a moſt
commendable and cleanely quality, and Women in this quality are farre
more abſolute than the Heavens, than the Starres, Moone, or any thing
beneath it; for long obſervation hath pickt certainety out of their
mutability. The Learned are ſo well acquainted with the Starres,
Signes and Planets, that they make them but Characters, to reade the
meaning of the Heaven in his owne forehead. Every ſimple Fellow can
beſpeake the change of the _Moone_ a great while beforehand: but I
would faine have the learnedſt man ſo skilfull, as to tell when the
ſimpleſt Woman meaneth to varie. Learning affords no rules to know,
much leſſe knowledge to rule the minde of a Woman: For as _Philoſophy_
teacheth us, that _Light things doe alwayes tend upwards_, and _heavy
things decline downeward_; Experience teacheth us otherwiſe, that the
diſpoſition of a _Light_ Woman, is to fall downe, the nature of Women
being contrary to all Art and Nature. Women are like _Flies_, which
feed among us at our Table, or _Fleas_ ſucking our very blood, who
leave not our moſt retired places free from their familiarity, yet for
all their fellowſhip will they never bee tamed nor commanded by us.
Women are like the _Sunne_, which is violently carryed one way, yet
hath a proper courſe contrary: ſo though they, by the maſtery of ſome
over-ruling churliſh Husbands, are forced to his Byas, yet have they a
motion of their owne, which their Husbands never know of. It is the
nature of nice and faſtidious mindes to know things onely to bee weary
of them: Women by their ſlye _changeableneſſe_, and pleaſing
doubleneſſe, prevent even the miſlike of thoſe, for they can never be
ſo well knowne, but that there is ſtill more unknowne. Every Woman is
a _Science_; for hee that plods upon a Woman all his life long, ſhall
at length find himſelfe ſhort of the knowledge of her: they are borne
to take downe the pride of wit, and ambition of wiſedome, making
_fooles_ wiſe in the adventuring to winne them, _wiſemen_ fooles in
conceit of loſing their labours; witty men ſtarke mad, being
confounded with their uncertaineties. _Philoſophers_ write againſt
them for ſpight, not deſert, that having attained to ſome knowledge in
all other things, in them onely they know nothing, but are meerely
ignorant: _Active_ and _Experienced_ men raile againſt them, becauſe
they love in their liveleſſe and decrepit age, when all goodneſſe
leaves them. Theſe envious _Libellers_ ballad againſt them, becauſe
having nothing in themſelves able to deſerve their love, they
maliciouſly diſcommend all they cannot obtaine, thinking to make men
beleeve they know much, becauſe they are able to diſpraiſe much, and
rage againſt _Inconſtancy_, when they were never admitted into ſo much
favour as to be forſaken. In mine Opinion ſuch men are happy that
Women are _Inconſtant_, for ſo may they chance to bee beloved of ſome
excellent Women (when it comes to their turne) out of their
_Inconſtancy_ and mutability, though not out of their owne deſert. And
what reaſon is there to clog any Woman with one Man, bee hee never ſo
ſingular? Women had rather, and it is farre better and more Iudiciall
to enjoy all the vertues in ſeverall Men, than but ſome of them in
one, for otherwiſe they loſe their taſte, like divers ſorts of meat
minced together in one diſh: and to have all excellencies in one Man
(if it were poſſible) is _Confuſion_ and _Diverſity_. Now who can
deny, but ſuch as are obſtinately bent to undervalue their worth, are
thoſe that have not ſoule enough to comprehend their excellency, Women
being the moſt excellenteſt Creatures, in that Man is able to ſubject
all things elſe, and to grow wiſe in every thing, but ſtill perſiſts a
foole in Woman? The greateſt _Scholler_, if hee once take a Wife, is
found ſo unlearned, that he muſt begin his _Horne-booke_, and all is
by _Inconſtancy_. To conclude therefore; this name of _Inconſtancy_,
which hath ſo much beene poyſoned with ſlaunders, ought to bee changed
into _variety_, for the which the world is ſo delightfull, _and a
Woman for that the moſt delightfull thing in this world_.




[Decoration]

2.

_That Women ought to paint._


_Fouleneſſe_ is _Lothſome_: can that be ſo which helpes it? who
forbids his Beloved to gird in her waſte? to mend by ſhooing her
uneven lameneſſe? to burniſh her teeth? or to perfume her breath? yet
that the _Face_ bee more preciſely regarded, it concernes more: For as
open confeſſing ſinners are alwaies puniſhed, but the wary and
concealing offenders without witneſſe doe it alſo without puniſhment;
ſo the ſecret parts needs the leſſe reſpect; but of the _Face_,
diſcovered to all Examinations and ſurvayes, there is not too nice a
Iealouſie. Nor doth it onely draw the buſie eyes, but it is ſubject to
the divineſt touch of all, to _kiſſing_, the ſtrange and myſticall
union of ſoules. If ſhee ſhould proſtitute her ſelfe to a more
unworthy Man than thy ſelfe, how earneſtly and juſtly wouldſt thou
exclaime? that for want of this eaſier and ready way of repairing, to
betray her body to ruine and deformity (the tyrannous _Raviſhers_, and
ſodaine _Deflourers_ of all Women) what a heynous Adultery is it? What
thou loveſt in her _face_ is _colour_, and _painting_ gives that, but
thou hateſt it, not becauſe it is, but becauſe thou knoweſt it. Foole,
whom ignorance makes happy; the Starres, the Sunne, the Skye whom thou
admireſt, alas, have no _colour_, but are faire, becauſe they ſeeme to
bee coloured: If this ſeeming will not ſatisfie thee in her, thou haſt
good aſſurance of her _colour_, when thou ſeeſt her _lay_ it on. If
her _face_ bee _painted_ on a Boord or Wall, thou wilt love it, and
the Boord, and the Wall: Canſt thou loath it then when it ſpeakes,
ſmiles, and kiſſes, becauſe it is _painted_? Are wee not more
delighted with ſeeing Birds, Fruites, and Beaſts _painted_ then wee
are with Naturalls? And doe wee not with pleaſure behold the _painted_
ſhape of Monſters and Divels, whom true, wee durſt not regard? Wee
repaire the ruines of our houſes, but firſt cold tempeſts warnes us of
it, and bytes us through it; wee mend the wracke and ſtaines of our
Apparell, but firſt our eyes, and other bodies are offended; but by
this providence of Women, this is prevented. If in _kiſſing_ or
_breathing_ upon her, the _painting_ fall off, thou art angry, wilt
thou be ſo, if it ſticke on? Thou didſt love her, if thou beginneſt to
hate her, then ’tis becauſe ſhee is not _painted_. If thou wilt ſay
now, thou didſt hate her before, thou didſt hate her and love her
together, bee conſtant in ſomething, and love her who ſhewes her great
_love_ to thee, in taking this paines to ſeeme _lovely_ to thee.




[Decoration]

3.

_That by Diſcord things increaſe._

  _Nullos eſſe Deos, inane Cœlum
   Affirmat Cœlius, probatq; quod ſe
   Factum vidit, dum negat hæc, beatum._


So I aſſevere this the more boldly, becauſe while I maintaine it, and
feele the _Contrary repugnancies_ and _adverſe fightings_ of the
_Elements_ in my Body, my Body increaſeth; and whilſt I differ from
common opinions by this _Diſcord_, the number of my _Paradoxes_
increaſeth. All the rich benefits we can frame to our ſelves in
_Concord_, is but an _Even_ conſervation of things; in which
_Evenneſſe_ wee can expect no _change_, no _motion_; therefore no
_increaſe_ or _augmentation_, which is a _member of motion_. And if
this _unity_ and _peace_ can give _increaſe_ to things, how mightily
is _diſcord_ and _war_ to that purpoſe, which are indeed the onely
ordinary _Parents_ of _peace_. _Diſcord_ is never ſo barren that it
affords no fruit; for the _fall_ of one _eſtate_ is at the worſt the
_increaſer_ of another, becauſe it is as impoſſible to finde a
_diſcommodity_ without _advantage_, as to finde _Corruption_ without
_Generation_: But it is the _Nature_ and _Office_ of _Concord_ to
_preſerve_ onely, which property when it leaves, it differs from it
ſelfe, which is the greateſt _diſcord_ of all. All _Victories_ and
_Emperies_ gained by _warre_, and all _Iudiciall_ decidings of doubts
in _peace_, I doe claime children of _Diſcord_. And who can deny but
_Controverſies_ in _Religion_ are growne greater by _diſcord_, and not
the _Controverſie_, but _Religion_ it ſelfe: For in a _troubled
miſery_ Men are alwaies more _Religious_ then in a _ſecure peace_. The
number of _good_ men, the onely charitable nouriſhers of _Concord_,
wee ſee is thinne, and daily melts and waines; but of _bad diſcording_
it is infinite, and growes hourely. Wee are aſcertained of all
_Diſputable_ doubts, onely by _arguing_ and differing in _Opinion_,
and if formall _diſputation_ (which is but a painted, counterfeit, and
diſſembled _diſcord_) can worke us this benefit, what ſhall not a full
and maine _diſcord_ accompliſh? Truely me thinkes I owe a _devotion_,
yea a _ſacrifice_ to _diſcord_, for caſting that _Ball_ upon _Ida_,
and for all that buſineſſe of _Troy_, whom ruin’d I admire more then
_Babylon_, _Rome_, or _Quinzay_, removed _Corners_, not onely
fulfilled with her _fame_, but with _Cities_ and _Thrones_ planted by
her _Fugitives_. Laſtly, between _Cowardice_ and _deſpaire_, _Valour_
is gendred; and ſo the _Diſcord_ of _Extreames_ begets all vertues,
but of the _like things_ there is no iſſue without a miracle:

  _Vxor peſſima, peſſimus maritus
   Miror tam malè convenire._

Hee wonders that betweene two ſo _like_, there could be any _diſcord_,
yet perchance for all this _diſcord_ there was nere the leſſe
_increaſe_.




[Decoration]

4.

_That good is more common then evill._


I have not been ſo pittifully tired with any _vanity_, as with ſilly
_Old Mens_ exclaiming againſt theſe times, and extolling their owne:
Alas! they betray themſelves, for if the _times_ be _changed_, their
manners have changed them. But their ſenſes are to _pleaſures_, as
_ſick Mens_ taſtes are to _Liquors_; for indeed no _new thing_ is done
in the _world_, all things are what, and as they were, and _Good_ is
as ever it was, more plenteous, and muſt of neceſſity be _more common
then evill_, becauſe it hath this for _nature_ and _perfection_ to bee
_common_. It makes _Love_ to all _Natures_, all, all affect it. So
that in the _Worlds_ early _Infancy_, there was a time when nothing
was _evill_, but if this _World_ ſhall ſuffer _dotage_ in the
extreameſt _crookedneſſe_ thereof, there ſhall be no time when nothing
ſhal be _good_. It dares appeare and ſpread, and gliſter in the
_World_, but _evill_ buries it ſelfe in night and darkneſſe, and is
chaſtiſed and ſuppreſſed when _good_ is cheriſhed and rewarded. And as
_Imbroderers_, _Lapidaries_, and other _Artiſans_, can by all things
adorne their workes; for by adding better things, the better they ſhew
in _Luſh_ and in _Eminency_; ſo _good_ doth not onely proſtrate her
_amiableneſſe_ to all, but refuſes no end, no not of her utter
contrary _evill_, that ſhee may bee the more _common_ to us. For
_euill manners_ are _parents_ of _good Lawes_; and in every _evill_
there is an _excellency_, which (in common ſpeech) we call _good_. For
the faſhions of _habits_, for our moving in _geſtures_, for phraſes in
our _ſpeech_, we ſay they were _good_ as long as they were uſed, that
is, as long as they were _common_; and wee eate, wee walke, onely when
it is, or ſeemes _good_ to doe ſo. All _faire_, all _profitable_, all
_vertuous_, is _good_, and theſe three things I thinke embrace all
things, but their utter _contraries_; of which alſo _faire_ may be
_rich_ and _vertuous_; _poore_ may bee _vertuous_ and _faire_;
_vitious_ may be _faire_ and _rich_; ſo that _good_ hath this good
meanes to be _common_, that ſome ſubjects ſhe can poſſeſſe intirely;
and in ſubjects poyſoned with _evill_, ſhe can humbly ſtoop to
accompany the _evill_. And of _indifferent_ things many things are
become perfectly good by being _common_, as _cuſtomes_ by uſe are made
binding _Lawes_. But I remember nothing that is therefore _ill_,
becauſe it is _common_, but _Women_, of whom alſo; _They that are moſt
common, are the beſt of that Occupation they profeſſe_.




[Decoration]

5.

_That all things kill themſelves._


To affect, yea to effect their owne _death_ all _living_ things are
importuned, not by _Nature_ only which perfects them, but by _Art_ and
_Education_, which perfects her. _Plants_ quickened and inhabited by
the moſt unworthy _ſoule_, which therefore neither _will_ nor _worke_,
affect an _end_, a _perfection_, a _death_; this they ſpend their
_ſpirits_ to attaine, this attained, they languiſh and wither. And by
how much more they are by mans _Induſtry_ warmed, cheriſhed, and
pampered; ſo much the more early they climbe to this _perfection_,
this _death_. And if amongſt _Men_ not to _defend_ be to _kill_, what
a hainous _ſelfe-murther_ is it, not to _defend it ſelfe_. This
_defence_ becauſe _Beaſts_ neglect, they kill themſelves, becauſe they
exceed us in _number_, _ſtrength_, and a _lawleſſe liberty_: yea, of
_Horſes_ and other beaſts, they that inherit _moſt courage_ by being
bred of _gallanteſt parents_, and by _Artificial nurſing_ are
bettered, will runne to their owne _deaths_, neither ſollicited by
_ſpurres_ which they need not, nor by _honour_ which they apprehend
not. If then the _valiant_ kill himſelfe, who can excuſe the _coward_?
Or how ſhall _Man_ bee free from this, ſince the _firſt Man_ taught us
this, except we cannot kill our ſelves, becauſe he kill’d us all. Yet
leſt ſomething ſhould repaire this _Common ruine_, we daily kill our
_bodies_ with _ſurfeits_, and our mindes with _anguiſhes_. Of our
_powers_, _remembring_ kils our _memory_; Of _Affections_, _Luſting_
our _luſt_; Of _vertues_, _Giving_ kils _liberality_. And if theſe
kill themſelves, they do it in their beſt & ſupreme _perfection_: for
after _perfection_ immediately follows _exceſſe_, which changeth the
natures and the names, and makes them not the ſame things. If then the
beſt things kill themſelves ſooneſt, (for no _affection_ endures, and
all things labour to this _perfection_) all travell to their owne
_death_, yea the frame of the whole _World_, if it were poſſible for
_God_ to be _idle_, yet becauſe it _began_, muſt _dye_. Then in this
_idleneſſe_ imagined in _God_, what could kill the _world_ but it
ſelfe, ſince _out of it, nothing is_?




[Decoration]

6.

_That it is poſsible to find ſome vertue in ſome Women._


I am not of that ſeard _Impudence_ that I dare defend _Women_, or
pronounce them good; yet we ſee _Phyſitians_ allow ſome _vertue_ in
every _poyſon_. Alas! why ſhould we except _Women_? ſince certainely,
they are good for _Phyſicke_ at leaſt, ſo as ſome _wine_ is good for a
_feaver_. And though they be the _Occaſioners_ of many ſinnes, they
are alſo the _Puniſhers_ and _Revengers_ of the ſame ſinnes: For I
have ſeldome ſeene one which conſumes his _ſubſtance_ and _body_ upon
them, eſcape _diſeaſes_, or _beggery_; and this is their _Iuſtice._
And if _ſuum cuiq; dare_, bee the fulfilling of all _Civill Iuſtice_,
they are _moſt juſt_; for they deny that which is theirs to no man.

  _Tanquam non liceat nulla puella negat._

And who may doubt of great wiſdome in them, that doth but obſerve with
how much labour and cunning our _Iuſticers_ and other _diſpenſers_ of
the _Lawes_ ſtudy to imbrace them: and how zealouſly our _Preachers_
dehort men from them, onely by urging their _ſubtilties_, and
_policies_, and _wiſedome_, which are in them? Or who can deny them a
good meaſure of _Fortitude_, if hee conſider how _valiant men_ they
have overthrowne, and being themſelves overthrowne, how much and how
patiently they _beare_? And though they bee moſt _intemperate_, I care
not, for I undertooke to furniſh them with _ſome vertue_, not with
_all_. _Neceſſity_, which makes even bad things good, prevailes alſo
for them, for wee muſt ſay of them, as of ſome ſharpe pinching
_Lawes_; If men were free from _infirmities_, they were needleſſe.
Theſe or none muſt ſerve for _reaſons_, and it is my great
happineſſe that _Examples_ prove not _Rules_, for to confirme this
_Opinion_, the World yeelds not _one Example._




[Decoration]

7.

_That Old men are more fantaſtike then Young._


Who reads this _Paradox_ but thinks mee more _fantaſtike_ now, than I
was yeſterday, when I did not think thus: And if one day make this
ſenſible change in men, what will the burthen of many yeeres? To bee
_fantaſtike_ in _young men_ is _conceiptfull diſtemperature_, and a
_witty madneſſe_; but in _old men_, whoſe ſenſes are withered, it
becomes _naturall_, therefore more full and perfect. For as when wee
_ſleepe_ our _fancy_ is moſt ſtrong; ſo it is in _age_, which is a
_ſlumber_ of the _deepe ſleepe of death_. They taxe us of
_Inconſtancy_, which in themſelves _young_ they allowed; ſo that
reprooving that which they did approove, their _Inconſtancy_ exceedeth
ours, becauſe they have changed _once more_ then wee. Yea, they are
more idlely buſied in _conceited apparell_ then wee; for we, when we
are _melancholy_, weare _blacke_; when _luſty_, _greene_; when
_forſaken_, _tawney_; pleaſing our owne _inward_ affections, leaving
them to others indifferent; but they preſcribe _lawes_, and conſtraine
the _Noble_, the _Scholer_, the _Merchant_, and all _Eſtates_ to a
certaine _habit_. The _old men_ of our time have changed with patience
their owne _bodies_, much of their _lawes_, much of their _languages_;
yea their _Religion_, yet they accuſe us. To be _Amorous_ is proper
and _naturall_ in a _young man_, but in an _old man_ most
_fantaſtike_. And that _ridling humour_ of _Iealouſie_, which ſeekes
and would not finde, which requires and repents his knowledge, is in
them moſt common, yet moſt _fantaſtike_. Yea, that which falls never
in _young men_, is in them moſt _fantaſtike_ and _naturall_, that is,
_Covetouſneſſe_; even at their _journeyes end_ to make great
proviſion. Is any _habit_ of _young men_ ſo _fantaſtike_, as in the
hotteſt ſeaſons to be _double-gowned_ or _hooded_ like our _Elders_?
Or ſeemes it ſo _ridiculous_ to weare long haire, as to weare _none_.
Truely, as among the _Philoſophers_, the _Skeptike_, which _doubts
all_, was more contentious, then either the _Dogmatike_ which
_affirmes_, or _Academike_ which _denyes all_; ſo are theſe uncertaine
_Elders_, which both cals them _fantaſtike_ which follow others
_inventions_, and them alſo which are led by their owne humorous
ſuggeſtion, more _fantaſtike_ then other.




[Decoration]

8.

_That Nature is our worſt Guide._


Shal ſhe be _guide_ to all _Creatures_, which is her ſelfe one? Or if
ſhe alſo have a _guide_, ſhall any _Creature_ have a better guide then
wee? The affections of _luſt_ and _anger_, yea even to _erre_ is
_naturall_; ſhall we follow theſe? Can ſhee be a good _guide_ to us,
which hath corrupted not us onely but her ſelfe? Was not the _firſt
man_, by the deſire of _knowledge_, corrupted even in the _whiteſt
integrity_ of _Nature_? And did not _Nature_ (if _Nature_ did any
thing) infuſe into him this deſire of _knowledge_, and ſo this
_corruption_ in him, into us? If by _Nature_ wee ſhall underſtand our
_eſſence_, our _definition_, or _reaſon_, _nobleneſſe_, then this
being alike common to all (the _Idiot_ and the _Wizard_ being equally
_reaſonable_) why ſhould not all men having equally all one _nature_,
follow one courſe? Or if we ſhall underſtand our _inclinations_;
alas! how unable a guide is that which followes the _temperature_ of
our ſlimie _bodies_? for we cannot ſay that we derive our
_inclinations_, our _mindes_, or _ſoules_ from our _Parents_ by any
way: to ſay that it is _all from all_, is _error_ in _reaſon_, for
then with the firſt nothing remaines; or is a _part from all_, is
_errour_ in _experience_, for then this _part_ equally imparted to
many children, would like _Gavel-kind lands_, in few generations
become nothing; or to ſay it by _communication_, is _errour_ in
_Divinity_, for to communicate the _ability_ of communicating _whole
eſſence_ with any but God, is utter _blaſphemy_. And if thou hit thy
_Fathers nature_ and _inclination_, he alſo had his _Fathers_, and ſo
climbing up, all comes of one man, and have one _nature_, all ſhall
imbrace one courſe; but that cannot bee, therefore our _complexions_
and whole _bodies_, wee inherit from _Parents_; our _inclinations_ and
minds follow that: For our minde is heavy in our _bodies afflictions_,
and rejoyceth in our _bodies pleaſure_: how then ſhall this _nature_
governe us, that is governed by the worſt part of us? _Nature though
oft chaſed away, it will returne_; ’tis true, but thoſe _good motions_
and _inſpirations_ which be our guides muſt bee _wooed_, _courted_,
and _welcomed_, or elſe they abandon us. And that old _Axiome_,
_nihil invita, &c._ muſt not be ſaid thou _ſhalt_, but thou _wilt_ doe
nothing againſt _Nature_; ſo _unwilling_ he notes us to curbe our
_naturall appetites_. Wee call our _baſtards_ alwayes our _naturall
iſſue_, and we define a _Foole_ by nothing ſo ordinary, as by the name
of _naturall_. And that poore knowledge whereby we conceive what
_raine_ is, what _wind_, what _thunder_, wee call _Metaphyſicke,
ſupernaturall_; ſuch _ſmall_ things, ſuch _no_ things doe we allow to
our pliant _Natures_ apprehenſion. Laſtly, by following her, we loſe
the pleaſant, and lawfull commodities of this life, for wee ſhall
drinke water and eate rootes, and thoſe not ſweet and delicate, as now
by Mans _art_ and _induſtry_ they are made: we ſhall loſe all the
neceſſities of _ſocieties_, _lawes_, _arts_, and _ſciences_, which are
all the workemanſhip of _Man_: yea we ſhall lack the laſt _beſt
refuge_ of miſery, _death_; becauſe _no death is naturall_: for if yee
will not dare to call all _death violent_ (though I ſee not why
_ſickneſſes_ be not _violences_) yet _cauſes_ of all _deaths_ proceed
of the _defect_ of that which _nature_ made perfect, and would
preſerve, and therefore all againſt _nature_.




[Decoration]

9.

_That only Cowards dare dye._


_Extreames_ are equally removed from the _meane_; ſo that headlong
_deſperateneſſe_ aſmuch offends true _valour_, as backward
_Cowardice_: of which ſort I reckon juſtly all _un-inforced deaths_.
When will your _valiant_ man dye of neceſſity? ſo _Cowards_ ſuffer
what cannot be avoided: and to runne into _death unimportun’d_, is to
runne into the firſt condemned deſperateneſſe. Will he dye when he is
_rich_ and _happy_? then by living he may doe more good: and in
_afflictions_ and _miſeries_, _death_ is the choſen refuge of
_Cowards_.

  _Fortiter ille facit, qui miſer eſſe poteſt._

But it is taught and practiſed among our _Galants_, that rather than
our reputations ſuffer any _maime_, or we any _miſery_, wee ſhall
offer our _breſts_ to the _Cannons_ mouth, yea to our _ſwords_ points:
And this ſeemes a very _brave_ and a very _climbing_ (which is a
_Cowardly_, earthly, and indeed a very _groveling_) _ſpirit_. Why doe
they _chaine_ theſe ſlaves to the _Gallyes_, but that they thruſt
their _deaths_, and would at every looſe leape into the _ſea_? Why doe
they take weapons from _condemned_ men, but to barre them of that eaſe
which _Cowards_ affect, _a ſpeedy death_. Truely this _life_ is a
_tempeſt_, and a _warfare_, and he which _dares dye_, to eſcape the
_anguiſh_ of it, ſeems to mee, but ſo _valiant_, as hee which dares
_hang_ himſelfe, leſt hee be _preſt_ to the _warres_. I have ſeene one
in that extremity of _melancholy_, which was then become _madneſſe_,
to make his owne _breath_ an _Inſtrument_ to ſtay his breath, and
labour to choake himſelfe, but alas! he was _mad_. And we knew another
that languiſhed under the _oppreſſion_ of a poore _diſgrace_ ſo much,
that hee tooke more _paines to dye_, then would have ſerved to have
nouriſhed _life_ and _ſpirit_ enough to have outlived his _diſgrace_.
What _Foole_ will call this _Cowardlineſſe_, _Valour_? or this
_Baſeneſſe_, _Humility_? And laſtly, of theſe men which dye the
_Allegoricall death_ of entring into _Religion_, how few are found fit
for any ſhew of _valiancy_? but onely a _ſoft_ and _ſupple metall_,
made onely for _Cowardly_ ſolitarineſſe.




[Decoration]

10.

_That a Wiſe Man is knowne by much laughing._


_Ride, ſi ſapis, ô puella ride_; If thou beeſt _wiſe_, _laugh_: for
ſince the _powers_ of _diſcourſe_, _reaſon_, and _laughter_, bee
equally _proper_ unto Man onely, why ſhall not hee be onely moſt
_wiſe_, which hath moſt uſe of _laughing_, aſwell as he which hath
moſt of _reaſoning_ and _diſcourſing_? I alwaies did, and ſhall
underſtand that _Adage_;

  _Per riſum multum poſſis cognoſcere ſtultum_,

That by much _laughing_ thou maiſt know there is a _foole_, not, that
the _laughers_ are _fooles_, but that among them there is ſome
_foole_, at whome _wiſemen_ laugh: which moved _Eraſmus_ to put this
as his firſt _Argument_ in the mouth of his _Folly_, that _ſhee made
Beholders laugh_: for _fooles_ are the moſt laughed at, and laugh the
leaſt themſelves of any. And _Nature_ ſaw this _faculty_ to bee ſo
neceſſary in man, that ſhee hath beene content that by _more cauſes_
we ſhould be importuned to _laugh_, then to the _exerciſe_ of any
other _power_; for things in themſelves utterly _contrary_, beget this
effect; for wee laugh both at _witty_ and _abſurd_ things: At both
which ſorts I have ſeen Men _laugh ſo long_, and _ſo earneſtly_, that
at laſt they have _wept_ that they could laugh no more. And therfore
the _Poet_ having deſcribed the quietneſſe of a _wiſe retired man_,
ſaith in one, what we have ſaid before in many lines; _Quid facit
Canius tuus? ridet_. We have received that even the _extremity_ of
_laughing_, yea of _weeping_ alſo, hath beene accounted _wiſedome_:
And that _Democritus_ and _Heraclitus_, the _lovers_ of theſe
_Extremes_, have been called _lovers of wiſedome_. Now among our
_wiſemen_ I doubt not, but many would be found who would laugh at
_Heraclitus_ weeping, none which weepe at _Democritus_ laughing. At
the hearing of _Comedies_ or other witty reports, I have noted ſome,
which not underſtanding _jeſts_, &c. have yet choſen this as the beſt
meanes to ſeeme _wiſe_ and _underſtanding_, to laugh when their
_Companions laugh_; and I have preſumed them _ignorant_, whom I have
ſeene _unmoved_. A _foole_ if he come into a _Princes Court_, and ſee
a _gay_ man leaning at the wall, ſo _gliſtering_, and ſo _painted_ in
many _colours_ that he is hardly diſcerned from one of the _pictures_
in the _Arras_, hanging his _body_ like an _Iron-bound-cheſt_, girt in
and thicke ribb’d with _broad gold laces_, may (and commonly doth)
envy him. But alas! ſhall a _wiſeman_, which may not onely not _envy_,
but not _pitty_ this _monſter_, do nothing? Yes, let him _laugh_. And
if one of theſe _hot cholerike firebrands_, which nouriſh themſelves
by _quarrelling_, and kindling others, ſpit upon a _foole_ one
_ſparke_ of _diſgrace_, he, like a _thatcht houſe_ quickly burning,
may bee _angry_; but the _wiſeman_, as _cold_ as the _Salamander_, may
not onely not be _angry_ with him, but not be _ſorry_ for him;
therefore let him _laugh_: ſo he ſhall be knowne a Man, becauſe he can
_laugh_, a _wiſe Man_ that hee knowes at _what_ to laugh, and a
_valiant Man_ that he _dares_ laugh: for he that _laughs_ is juſtly
reputed more _wiſe_, then at whom it is _laughed_. And hence I thinke
proceeds that which in theſe later _formall_ times I have much noted;
that now when our _ſuperſtitious civility_ of _manners_ is become a
mutuall _tickling flattery_ of one another, almoſt every man affecteth
an _humour_ of _jeſting_, and is content to be _deject_, and to
_deforme_ himſelfe, yea become _foole_ to no other _end_ that I can
ſpie, but to give his _wiſe Companion_ occaſion to _laugh_: and to
ſhew themſelves in _promptneſſe_ of _laughing_ is ſo great in
_wiſemen_, that I thinke all _wiſemen_, if any _wiſeman_ do reade this
_Paradox_, will _laugh_ both at it and me.




[Decoration]

11.

_That the gifts of the Body are better then thoſe of the Minde._


I ſay againe, that the _body_ makes the _minde_, not that it created
it a _minde_, but _formes_ it a _good_ or a _bad mind_; and this
_minde_ may be confounded with _ſoule_ without any violence or
injuſtice to _Reaſon_ or _Philoſophy_: then the _ſoule_ it ſeemes is
enabled by our _body_, not this by it. My _Body_ licenſeth my _ſoule_
to _ſee_ the Worlds _beauties_ through mine _eyes_; to _heare_
pleaſant things through mine _eares_; and affords it apt _Organs_ for
the conveiance of all perceivable _delight_. But alas! my _ſoule_
cannot make any _part_, that is not of it ſelfe diſpoſed, to _ſee_ or
_heare_, though without doubt ſhe be as able and as willing to ſee
_behind_ as _before_. Now if my _ſoule_ would ſay, that ſhee enables
any part to taſte theſe pleaſures, but is her ſelfe onely delighted
with thoſe rich _ſweetneſſes_ which her _inward eyes_ and _ſenſes_
apprehend, ſhee ſhould diſſemble; for I ſee her often ſolaced with
_beauties_, which ſhee ſees through mine _eyes_, and with _muſicke_
which through mine _eares_ ſhe heares. This _perfection_ then my
_body_ hath, that it can impart to my _minde_ all his _pleaſures_; and
my _minde_ hath ſtill many, that ſhe can neither teach my _indiſpoſed_
part her _faculties_, nor to the beſt _eſpouſed_ parts ſhew it
_beauty_ of _Angels_, of _Muſicke_, of _Spheres_, whereof ſhe boaſts
the _contemplation_. Are _chaſtity_, _temperance_, and _fortitude_
gifts of the _mind_? I appeale to _Phyſitians_ whether the _cauſe_ of
theſe be not in the _body_, _health_ is the gift of the _body_, and
_patience_ in ſickeneſſe the gift of the _minde_: then who will ſay
that _patience_ is as good a happineſſe, as _health_, when wee muſt be
extremely _miſerable_ to purchaſe this _happineſſe_. And for
nouriſhing of _civill ſocieties_ and _mutuall love_ amongſt men, which
is our _chiefe end_ while wee are men; I ſay, this _beauty_,
_preſence_, and _proportion_ of the _body_, hath a more _maſculine_
force in begetting this _love_, then the _vertues_ of the _minde_: for
it ſtrikes us _ſuddenly_, and poſſeſſeth us _immoderately_; when to
know thoſe _vertues_ requires ſome _Iudgement_ in him which ſhall
diſcerne, a _long time_ and _converſation_ betweene them. And even at
_laſt_ how much of our _faith_ and _beleefe_ ſhall we be driven to
beſtow, to aſſure our ſelves that theſe _vertues_ are not
_counterfeited_: for it is the ſame to _be_, and _ſeeme vertuous_,
becauſe that he that hath _no vertue_, can _diſſemble_ none, but he
which hath a _little_, may _gild_ and _enamell_, yea and transforme
much _vice_ into _vertue_: For allow a man to be _diſcreet_ and
_flexible_ to _complaints_, which are great _vertuous_ gifts of the
_minde_, this _diſcretion_ will be to him the _ſoule_ & _Elixir_ of
all _vertues_, ſo that touched with this, even _pride_ ſhal be made
_humility_; and _Cowardice_, honourable and wiſe _valour_. But in
things _ſeene_ there is not this danger, for the _body_ which thou
loveſt and eſteemeſt _faire_, is _faire_; certainely if it bee not
_faire_ in _perfection_, yet it is _faire_ in the ſame _degree_ that
thy _Iudgement_ is good. And in a _faire body_, I doe ſeldome ſuſpect
a _diſproportioned minde_, and as ſeldome hope for a _good_ in a
_deformed_. When I ſee a _goodly houſe_, I aſſure my ſelfe of a
_worthy poſſeſſour_, from a _ruinous weather-beaten building_ I turn
away, becauſe it ſeems either ſtuffed with _varlets_ as a _Priſon_, or
handled by an _unworthy_ and _negligent tenant_, that ſo ſuffers the
_waſte_ thereof. And truely the gifts of _Fortune_, which are
_riches_, are onely _handmaids_, yea _Pandars_ of the _bodies
pleaſure_; with their ſervice we nouriſh _health_, and preſerve
_dainty_, and wee buy _delights_; ſo that _vertue_ which muſt be loved
for _it ſelfe_, and reſpects no further _end_, is indeed _nothing_:
And _riches_, whoſe _end_ is the _good_ of the _body_, cannot be ſo
_perfectly good_, as the _end_ whereto it levels.




[Decoration]

12.

_That Virginity is a Vertue._


I call not that _Virginity a vertue_, which reſideth only in the
_Bodies integrity_; much leſſe if it be with a purpoſe of perpetuall
keeping it: for then it is a moſt inhumane vice—But I call that
_Virginity a vertue_ which is willing and deſirous to yeeld itſelfe
upon honeſt and lawfull termes, when juſt reaſon requireth; and untill
then, is kept with a modeſt chaſtity of Body and Mind. Some perchance
will say that _Virginity_ is in us by _Nature_, and therefore no
_vertue_. True, as it is in us by _Nature_, it is neither a _Vertue_
nor _Vice_, and is onely in the body: (as in Infants, Children, and
such as are incapable of parting from it). But that _Virginity_ which
is in Man or Woman of perfect age, is not in them by _Nature_:
_Nature_ is the greateſt enemy to it, and with moſt ſubtile
allurements ſeeks the over-throw of it, continually beating againſt it
with her _Engines_, and giving ſuch forcible aſſaults to it, that it
is a ſtrong and more then ordinary _vertue_ to hold out till marriage.
_Ethick_ Philoſophy ſaith, _That no Vertue is corrupted, or is taken
away by that which is good_: Hereupon ſome may ſay, that _Virginity_
is therefore no vertue, being taken away by marriage. _Virginity_ is
no otherwiſe taken away by marriage, then is the light of the ſtarres
by a greater light (the light of the Sun:) or as a leſſe Title is
taken away by a greater: (an Eſquire by being created an Earle) yet
_Virginity_ is a _vertue_, and hath her Throne in the middle: The
extreams are, in _Exceſſe_; to violate it before marriage; in defect,
not to marry. In ripe years as ſoon as reaſon perſwades, and
opportunity admits, Theſe extreams are equally removed from the mean:
The exceſſe proceeds from _Luſt_, the defect from _Peeviſhneſſe_,
_Pride_ and _Stupidity_. There is an old Proverb, That, _they that dy
maids, muſt lead Apes in Hell_. An Ape is a ridiculous and
unprofitable Beaſt, whoſe fleſh is not good for meat, nor its back for
burden, nor is it commodious to keep an houſe: and perchance for the
unprofitableneſſe of this Beaſt did this proverb come up: For surely
nothing is more unprofitable in the Commonwealth of _Nature_, then
they that dy old maids, becauſe they refuſe to be uſed to that end
for which they were only made. The Ape bringeth forth her young, for
the moſt part by twins; that which ſhe loves beſt, ſhe killeth by
preſſing it too hard: so fooliſh maids ſoothing themſelves with a
falſe conceit of _vertue_, in fond obſtinacie, live and die maids; and
ſo not only kill in themſelves the _vertue_ of _Virginity_, and of a
Vertue make it a Vice, but they also accuſe their parents in
condemning marriage. If this application hold not touch, yet there may
be an excellent one gathered from an Apes tender love to Conies in
keeping them from the Weaſel and Ferret. From this ſimilitude of an
Ape & an old Maid did the aforeſaid proverb firſt ariſe. But alas,
there are ſome old Maids that are _Virgins_ much againſt their wills,
and fain would change their _Virgin-life_ for a _Married_: ſuch if
they never have had any offer of fit Huſbands, are in ſome ſort
excuſable, and their willingneſſe, their deſire to marry, and their
forbearance from all diſhoneſt, and unlawful copulation, may be a kind
of inclination to _vertue_, although not _Vertue_ it ſelfe. This
_Virtue_ of _Virginity_ (though it be ſmall and fruitleſſe) it is an
extraordinary, and no common _Vertue_. All other _Vertues_ lodge in
the _Will_ (it is the _Will_ that makes them _vertues_.) But it is the
unwillingneſſe to keep it, the deſire to forſake it, that makes this a
_vertue_. As in the naturall generation and formation made of the ſeed
in the womb of a woman, the body is joynted and organized about the 28
day, and so it begins to be no more an _Embrion_, but capable as a
matter prepared to its form to receive the ſoule, which faileth not to
inſinuate and inneſt it ſelfe into the body about the fortieth day;
about the third month it hath motion and ſenſe: Even ſo _Virginity_ is
an _Embrion_, an unfaſhioned lump, till it attain to a certain time,
which is about twelve years of age in women, fourteen in men, and then
it beginneth to have the ſoule of _Love_ infuſed into it, and to
become a _vertue_: There is alſo a certain limited time when it
ceaſeth to be a _vertue_, which in men is about fourty, in women about
thirty years of age: yea, the loſſe of ſo much time makes their
_Virginity_ a _Vice_, were not their endeavour wholly bent, and their
deſires altogether fixt upon marriage: In Harveſt time do we not
account it a great vice of ſloath and negligence in a Huſband-man, to
overſlip a week or ten dayes after his fruits are fully ripe; May we
not much more account it a more heynous vice, for a _Virgin_ to let
her Fruit (_in potentia_) conſume and rot to nothing, and to let the
_vertue_ of her _Virginity_ degenerate into _Vice_, (for _Virginity_
ever kept is ever loſt.) Avarice is the greateſt deadly ſin next
Pride: it takes more pleaſure in hoording Treaſure then in making uſe
of it, and will neither let the poſſeſſor nor others take benefit by
it during the Miſers life; yet it remains intire, and when the Miſer
dies muſt come to ſom body. _Virginity_ ever kept, is a vice far worſe
then Avarice, it will neither let the poſſeſſor nor others take
benefit by it, nor can it be bequeathed to any: with long keeping it
decayes and withers, and becomes corrupt and nothing worth. Thus
ſeeing that _Virginity_ becomes a vice in defect, by exceeding a
limited time; I counſell all female _Virgins_ to make choyce of ſome
_Paracelſian_ for their Phyſitian, to prevent the death of that
_Vertue_: The _Paracelſians_ (curing like by like) ſay, That if the
lives of living Creatures could be taken down, they would make us
immortall. By this rule, female _Virgins_ by a diſcreet marriage
ſhould ſwallow down into their _Virginity_ another _Virginity_, and
devour ſuch a life & ſpirit into their womb, that it might make them
as it were, immortall here on earth, beſides their perfect
immortality in heaven: And that _Vertue_ which otherwiſe would
putrifie and corrupt, ſhall then be compleat; and ſhall be recorded in
Heaven, and enrolled here on Earth; and the name of _Virgin_ ſhall be
exchanged for a far more honorable name, _A Wife_.




[Decoration]

PROBLEMES




1.

_Why have Baſtards beſt Fortune?_


Becauſe _Fortune_ herſelfe is a _Whore_, but ſuch are not moſt
indulgent to their _iſſue_; the old naturall reaſon (but thoſe
meetings in _ſtolne love_ are moſt _vehement_, and ſo contribute more
_ſpirit_ then the _eaſie_ and _lawfull_) might governe me, but that
now I ſee _Miſtreſſes_ are become _domeſtike_ and _inordinary_, and
they and wives _waite_ but by _turnes_, and _agree_ aſwell as they had
_lived_ in the _Arke_. The old Morall reaſon (that _Baſtards_ inherit
_wickedneſſe_ from their _Parents_, and ſo are in a better way to
_preferment_ by having a _ſtocke_ before-hand, then thoſe that build
all their _fortune_ upon the _poore_ and _weake_ ſtocke of _Originall
ſinne_) might prevaile with me, but that ſince wee are fallen into
ſuch times, as now the _world_ might _ſpare_ the _Divell_, because
_ſhe_ could be bad enough without _him_. I ſee men _ſcorne_ to be
_wicked_ by _example_, or to bee _beholding_ to others for their
_damnation_. It ſeems reaſonable, that ſince _Lawes_ rob them of
_ſucceſſion_ in _civill benefits_, they ſhould have ſomething elſe
_equivalent_. As _Nature_ (which is _Lawes patterne_) having denyed
Women _Conſtancy_ to _one_, hath provided them with _cunning_ to
allure _many_; and ſo _Baſtards_ _de jure_ ſhould have better _wits_
and _experience_. But beſides that by _experience_ wee ſee many
_fooles_ amongſt them, wee ſhould take from them one of their chiefeſt
helpes to _preferment_, and we ſhould deny them to be _fools_, and
(that which is onely left) that _Women_ chuſe _worthier_ men then
their _husbands_, is falſe _de facto_; either then it muſt bee that
the _Church_ having removed them from all place in the _publike
Service_ of _God_, they have better meanes then others to be _wicked_,
and ſo _fortunate_: Or elſe becauſe the two _greateſt powers_ in this
_world_, the _Divell_ and _Princes_ concurre to their _greatneſſe_;
the one giving _baſtardy_, the other _legitimation_: As _nature_
frames and conſerves great _bodies_ of _contraries_. Or the cauſe is,
becauſe they abound moſt at _Court_, which is the _forge_ where
_fortunes_ are made, or at leaſt the _ſhop_ where they be _ſold_.




[Decoration]

2.

_Why Puritanes make long Sermons?_


It needs not _perſpicuouſneſſe_, for God knowes they are plain
enough: nor doe all of them uſe _Sem-briefe-Accents_ for ſome
of them have _crotchets_ enough. It may bee they intend not
to riſe like _glorious Tapers_ and _Torches_, but like
_Thinne-wretched-ſicke-watching-Candles_, which _languiſh_ and are in
a Divine _Conſumption_ from the firſt minute, yea in their _ſnuffe_,
and _ſtink_ when others are in their more profitable _glory_. I have
thought ſometimes, that out of _conſcience_, they allow _long meaſure_
to _courſe ware_. And ſometimes, that _uſurping_ in that place a
_liberty_ to _ſpeak freely_ of _Kings_, they would _raigne_ as long as
they could. But now I thinke they doe it out of a _zealous_
imagination, that, _It is their duty to preach on till their Auditory
wake_.




[Decoration]

3.

_Why did the Divel reſerve Jeſuites till theſe latter dayes._


Did he know that our _Age_ would deny the _Devils poſſeſſing_, and
therfore provided by theſe to _poſſeſſe_ men and kingdomes? Or to end
the _diſputation_ of _Schoolemen_, why the _Divell_ could not make
_lice_ in _Egypt_; and whether thoſe things hee _preſented_ there,
might be _true_, hath he ſent us a _true_ and _reall plague_, worſe
than thoſe _ten_? Or in _oſtentation_ of the _greatneſſe_ of his
_Kingdome_, which even _diviſion_ cannot _ſhake_, doth he ſend us
theſe which _diſagree_ with all the reſt? Or knowing that our _times_
ſhould diſcover the _Indies_, and aboliſh their _Idolatry_, doth he
ſend theſe to give them _another_ for it? Or peradventure they have
beene in the _Roman Church_ theſe _thouſand yeeres_, though we have
called them by _other names_.




[Decoration]

4.

_Why is there more variety of Green then of other Colours?_


It is becauſe it is the figure of _Youth_ wherin _nature_ wuld provide
as many _green_, as _youth_ hath _affections_; and ſo preſent a
_Sea-green_ for _profuſe waſters_ in _voyages_; a _Graſſe-green_ for
ſudden _new men enobled_ from _Graſiers_; and a _Gooſe-greene_ for
ſuch _Polititians_ as pretend to preſerve the _Capitol_. Or elſe
_Prophetically_ foreſeeing an _age_, wherein they ſhall all _hunt_.
And for ſuch as _miſdemeane_ themſelves a _Willow-greene_; For
_Magiſtrates_ muſt aſwell have _Faſces_ born before them to _chaſtize_
the _ſmall_ offences, as _Secures_ to _cut off_ the _great_.




[Decoration]

5.

_Why doe young Lay-men ſo much ſtudy Divinity._


Is it becauſe others tending buſily _Churches preferment_ neglect
_ſtudy_? Or had the _Church_ of _Rome_ ſhut up all our wayes, till the
_Lutherans_ broke downe their _uttermoſt ſtubborne doores_, and the
_Calviniſts_ picked their _inwardeſt_ and _ſubtleſt lockes_? Surely
the _Devill_ cannot be ſuch a _Foole_ to hope that he ſhall make this
ſtudy _contemptible_, by making it _common_. Nor that as the
_Dwellers_ by the River _Origus_ are ſaid (by drawing infinite
_ditches_ to ſprinkle their _barren Country_) to have exhauſted and
intercepted their _maine channell_, and ſo loſt their more profitable
courſe to the _ſea_; ſo we, by providing every _ones ſelfe, divinity_
enough for his _own uſe_, ſhould neglect our _Teachers_ and _Fathers_.
Hee cannot hope for better _hereſies_ then hee hath had, nor was his
_Kingdome_ ever ſo much advanced by _debating Religion_ (though with
ſome _aſperſions_ of _Error_) as by a _dull_ and _ſtupid ſecurity_, in
which many _groſe things_ are ſwallowed. Poſſible out of ſuch an
_ambition_ as we have now, to ſpeake _plainely_ and _fellow-like_ with
_Lords_ and _Kings_, wee thinke alſo to acquaint our ſelves with _Gods
ſecrets_: Or perchance when we ſtudy it by _mingling humane_ reſpects,
_It is not Divinity_.




[Decoration]

6.

_Why hath the common Opinion afforded Women Soules?_


It is agreed that wee have not ſo much from them as any _part_ of
either our _mortall ſoules_ of _ſenſe_, or _growth_, and we deny
_ſoules_ to others equal to them in all but in _ſpeech_ for which they
are beholding to their _bodily inſtruments_: For perchance an _Oxes_
heart, or a _Goates_, or a _Foxes_, or a _Serpents_ would ſpeake juſt
ſo, if it were in the _breaſt_, and could move that _tongue_ and
_jawes_. Have they ſo many _advantages_ and _meanes_ to hurt us (for,
ever their _loving_ deſtroyed us) that we dare not _diſpleaſe_ them,
but give them what they will? And ſo when ſome call them _Angels_,
ſome _Goddeſſes_, and the _Palpulian Heretikes_ made them _Biſhops_,
wee deſcend ſo much with the ſtreame, to allow them _ſoules_? Or doe
we ſomewhat (in this dignifying of them) flatter _Princes_ and _great
Perſonages_ that are ſo much governed by them? Or do we in that
_eaſineſſe_ and _prodigality_, wherein we daily loſe our owne _ſoules_
to we care not whom, ſo labour to perſwade our ſelves, that ſith a
_woman_ hath a _ſoule_, a _ſoule_ is no great matter? Or doe wee lend
them _ſoules_ but for _uſe_, ſince they for our ſakes, give their
_ſoules_ againe, and their _bodies_ to boote? Or perchance becauſe the
_Deuill_ (who is all _ſoule_) doth moſt _miſchiefe_, and for
_convenience_ and _proportion_, becauſe they would come neerer him,
wee allow them ſome ſoules; and ſo as the _Romanes_ naturalized ſome
_Provinces_ in revenge, and made them _Romans_, onely for the
_burthen_ of the _Common-wealth_; ſo we have given _women_ ſoules
onely to make them capable of _damnation_?




[Decoration]

7.

_Why are the Faireſt, Falſeſt?_


I meane not of falſe _Alchimy Beauty_, for then the _queſtion_ ſhould
be inverted, _Why are the Falſeſt, Faireſt_? It is not onely becauſe
they are _much ſolicited_ and _ſought_ for, ſo is _gold_, yet it is
not ſo _common_; and this _ſuite_ to them, ſhould teach them their
_value_, and make them more _reſerved_. Nor is it becauſe the
_delicateſt blood_ hath the _beſt ſpirits_, for what is that to the
fleſh? perchance ſuch _conſtitutions_ have the _beſt wits_, and there
is no _proportionable ſubject_, for _Womens wit_, but deceipt? doth
the _minde_ ſo follow the _temperature_ of the _body_, that becauſe
thoſe _complexions_ are apteſt to change, the _mind_ is therefore ſo?
Or as _Bells_ of the _pureſt metall_ retaine their _tinkling_ and
_ſound_ largeſt; ſo the _memory_ of the laſt _pleaſure_ laſts longer
in theſe, and diſpoſeth them to the next. But ſure it is not in the
_complexion_, for thoſe that doe but thinke themſelves _faire_, are
preſently inclined to this _multiplicity_ of _loves_, which being but
_faire in conceipt_ are _falſe in deed_: and ſo perchance when they
are _borne_ to this _beauty_, or have _made_ it, or have dream’d it,
they eaſily believe all _addreſſes_ and _applications_ of every _man_,
out of a _ſenſe_ of their own _worthineſſ_ to be directed to them,
which others _leſſ worthy_ in their own thoughts apprehend not, or
diſcredit. But I think the _true reaſon_ is, that being like _gold_ in
many properties (as that _all ſnatch_ at them, but the _worſt poſſeſſ_
them, that they care not how deep we dig for them, and that by the Law
of nature, _Occupandi conceditur_) they would be like alſo in this,
that as Gold to make it ſelf of uſe admits allay, ſo they, that they
may be tractable, mutable, and currant, have to allay _Falſhood_.




[Decoration]

8.

_Why Venus-ſtar only doth caſt a ſhadow?_


Is it becauſe it is nearer the earth? But they whoſe profeſſion it is
to ſee that nothing be done in heaven without their conſent (as _Re_ —
ſays in himſelf of _Aſtrologers_) have bid _Mercury_ to be nearer. Is
it becauſe the works of _Venus_ want ſhadowing, covering and
dignifying? But thoſe of _Mercury_ need it more; For Eloquence, his
occupation, is all ſhadow and colours; let our life be a ſea, and then
our reaſons and even paſſions are wide enough to carry us whether we
ſhould go, but Eloquence is a ſtorm and tempeſt that miſcarries: and
who doubts that Eloquence which muſt perſwade people to take a yoke of
ſoveraignty (and then beg and make Laws to tye them faſter, and then
give money to the invention, repair and ſtrengthen it) needs more
ſhadows and coloring, then to perſwade any man or woman to that which
is natural. And _Venus_ markets are ſo natural, that when we ſolicite
the beſt way (which is by _marriage_) our perſwaſions work not ſo much
to draw a woman to us, as againſt her nature to draw her from all
other beſides. And ſo when we go againſt nature, and from _Venus-work_
(for marriage is chaſtitie) we need ſhadowes and colours, but not
elſe. In _Seneca’s_ time, it was a courſe, an un-_Roman_ and a
contemptible thing even in a _Matron_, not to have had a _Love_ beſide
her huſband, which though the Law required not at their hands, yet
they did it _zealouſly_ out of the Council of Cuſtom and faſhion,
which was _venery_ of _ſupererrogation_:

  _Et te ſpectator pluſquam delectat Adulter_,

saith _Martial_: And _Horace_, becauſe many lights would not ſhew him
enough, created many _Images_ of the ſame Object by wainſcoting his
chamber with looking-glaſſes: ſo that _Venus_ flies not light, as much
as _Mercury_, who creeping into our underſtanding, our darkneſs would
be defeated, if he were perceived. Then either this _ſhadow_
confeſſeth that ſame dark Melancholy Repentance which accompanies; or
that ſo violent fires, needs ſome ſhadowy refreſhing and
intermiſſion: Or elſe light ſignifying both day and youth, and ſhadow
both night and age, ſhe pronounceth by this that ſhe profeſſeth both
all perſons and times.




[Decoration]

9.

_Why is Venus-ſtar multinominous, called both =Heſperus= and
=Veſper=._


The Moon hath as many names, but not as ſhe is a ſtar, but as ſhe hath
divers governments; but _Venus_ is _multinominous_ to give example to
her _proſtitute diſciples_, who ſo often, either to renew or refreſh
themſelves towards lovers, or to diſguiſe themſelves from
_Magiſtrates_, are to take new names. It may be ſhe takes new names
after her many functions, for as ſhe is ſupream Monarch of all Suns at
large (which is _luſt_) ſo is ſhe joyned in Commiſſion with all
_Mythologicks_, with _Juno_, _Diana_, and all others for marriage. It
may be becauſe of the divers names to her ſelf, for her affections
have more names than any vice: _ſcilicet_, _Pollution_, _Fornication_,
_Adultery_, _Lay-Inceſt_, _Church-Inceſt_, _Rape_, _Sodomy_,
_Maſtupration_, _Maſturbation_, and a thouſand others. Perchance her
divers names ſhewed her appliableneſs to divers men, for _Neptune_
diſtilled and wet her in love, the Sun warms and melts her, _Mercury_
perſwaded and ſwore her, _Jupiters_ authority ſecured, and _Vulcan_
hammer’d her. As _Heſperus_ ſhe preſents you with her _bonum utile_,
becauſe it is wholeſomeſt in the morning: As _Veſper_ with her _bonum
delectabile_, becauſe it is pleaſanteſt in the evening. And becauſe
induſtrious men riſe and endure with the Sun in their civil
buſineſſes, this Star caſts them up a little before, and remembers
them again a little after for her buſineſs; for certainly,

  _Venit Heſperus, ite capellae_:

was ſpoken to Lovers in the perſons of _Goats_.




[Decoration]

10.

_Why are New Officers leaſt oppreſſing?_


Muſt the old Proverbe, that _Old dogs bite ſorest_, be true in all
kinde of _dogs_? Me thinkes the freſh _memory_ they have of the _mony_
they parted with for the _place_, ſhould haſten them for the
_re-imburſing_: And perchance they doe but ſeeme eaſier to their
_ſuiters_; who (as all other _Patients_) doe account all change of
paine, eaſie. But if it bee ſo, it is either becauſe the ſodain
_ſenſe_ & _contentment_ of the _honor_ of the _place_, retards and
remits the rage of their _profits_, and ſo having ſtayed their
_ſtomackes_, they can forbeare the ſecond _courſe_ a while: Or having
overcome the _ſteepest_ part of the _hill_, and clambered above
_Competitions_ and _Oppoſitions_ they dare loyter, and take breath:
Perchance being come from _places_, where they taſted _no gaine_, a
_little_ ſeems _much_ to them at firſt, for it is _long before a
Christian conſcience overtakes, or straies into an Officers heart_. It
may be that out of the _generall diſeaſe_ of all men not to love the
_memory_ of a _predeceſſor_, they ſeeke to diſgrace them by ſuch
_eaſineſſe_, and make good _firſt impreſſions_, that ſo having drawen
much _water_ to their _Mill_, they may afterward _grind_ at eaſe: For
if from the rules of good _Horſe-manſhip_, they thought it wholeſome
to _jet_ out in a moderate _pace_, they ſhould alſo take up towards
their _journeys_ end, not mend their pace continually, and _gallop_ to
their _Innes-doore_, the _grave_; except perchance their _conſcience_
at that time ſo touch them, that they thinke it an _injury_ and
_damage_ both to him that muſt _ſell_, and to him that muſt _buy_ the
_Office_ after their _death_, and a kind of _dilapidation_ if they by
continuing _honeſt_ ſhould diſcredit the _place_, and bring it to a
_lower-rent_, or _under-value_.




[Decoration]

11.

_Why does the Poxe ſo much affect to undermine the Noſe?_


_Paracelſus_ perchance ſaith true, That every Diſeaſe hath his
exaltation in ſome part certaine. But why this in the Noſe? Is there
ſo much mercy in this diſeaſe, that it provides that one ſhould not
ſmell his own ſtinck? Or hath it but the common fortune, that being
begot and bred in obſcureſt and ſecreteſt places, becauſe therefore
his ſerpentine crawling and inſinuation ſhould not be ſuſpected, nor
ſeen, he comes ſooneſt into great place, and is more able to deſtroy
the worthieſt member, then a diſeaſe better born? Perchance as mice
defeat Elephants by knawing their _Proboſcis_, which is their Noſe,
this wretched Indian Vermine practiſeth to doe the ſame upon us. Or as
the ancient furious Cuſtome and Connivency of ſome Lawes, that one
might cut off their Noſe whome he deprehended in Adulterie, was but a
Tipe of this; And that now more charitable lawes having taken away all
Revenge from particular hands, this common Magiſtrate and Executioner
is come to do the ſame office inviſibly? Or by withdrawing this
conſpicuous part, the Noſe, it warnes us from all adventuring upon
that Coaſt; for it is as good a mark to take in a flag as to hang one
out. Poſſibly heate, which is more potent and active then cold,
thought her ſelfe injured, and the Harmony of the world out of tune,
when cold was able to ſhew the high-way to Noses in _Muscovia_, except
ſhe found the meanes to doe the ſame in other Countries. Or becauſe by
the conſent of all, there is an Analogy, Proportion, and affection
between the Noſe and that part where this diſeaſe is firſt contracted,
and therefore _Heliogabalus_ choſe not his Minions in the Bath but by
the Noſe: And _Albertus_ had a knaviſh meaning when he preferd great
Noſes; And the licentious Poet was _Naſo Poeta_. I think this reaſon
is neareſt truth, That the Noſe is moſt compaſſionate with this part:
Except this be nearer, that it is reaſonable that this Diſeaſe in
particular ſhould affect the moſt eminent and perſpicuous part, which
in general doth affect to take hold of the moſt eminent and
conſpicuous men.




[Decoration]

12.

_Why die none for Love now?_


Becauſe women are become eaſyer. Or becauſe theſe later times have
provided mankind of more new means for the deſtroying of themſelves
and one another, _Pox_, _Gunpowder_, _Young marriages_, and
_Controverſies_ in _Religion_. Or is there in true Hiſtory no
Precedent or Example of it? Or perchance ſome die ſo, but are not
therefore worthy the remembring or ſpeaking of?




[Decoration]

13.

_Why do Women delight much in Feathers?_


They think that Feathers imitate wings, and ſo ſhew their reſtleſſneſs
and inſtability. As they are in matter, ſo they would be in name, like
_Embroiderers_, _Painters_, and ſuch _Artificers_ of curious
_vanities_, which the vulgar call _Pluminaries_. Or elſe they have
feathers for the ſame reaſon, which moves them to love the unworthieſt
men, which is, that they may be thereby excuſable in their inconſtancy
and often changing.




[Decoration]

14.

_Why doth not Gold ſoyl the fingers?_


Doth it direct all the venom to the heart? Or is it becauſe bribing
ſhould not be diſcovered? Or becauſe that ſhould pay purely, for which
pure things are given, as _Love_, _Honor_, _Justice_ and Heaven? Or
doth it ſeldom come into innocent hands but into ſuch as for former
foulneſs you cannot diſcern this?




[Decoration]

15.

_Why do great men of all dependants, chuſe to preſerve their little
Pimps?_


It is not becauſe they are got neareſt their ſecrets, for they whom
they bring come nearer. Nor commonly becauſe they and their bawds have
lain in one belly, for then they ſhould love their brothers aſwel. Nor
becauſe they are witneſſes of their weakneſs, for they are weak ones.
Either it is becauſe they have a double hold and obligation upon their
maſters for providing them ſurgery and remedy after, aſwel as pleaſure
before, and bringing them always ſuch ſtuff, as they ſhal always need
their ſervice? Or becauſe they may be received and entertained every
where, and Lords fling off none but they ſuch as they may deſtroy by
it. Or perchance we deceive our ſelves, and every Lord having many,
and, of neceſſity, ſome riſing, we mark only theſe.




[Decoration]

16.

_Why are Courtiers ſooner Atheiſts then men of other conditions?_


Is it becauſe as _Phyſitians_ contemplating Nature, and finding many
abſtruſe things ſubject to the ſearch of Reaſon, thinks therefore that
all is ſo; so they (ſeeing mens deſtinies, mad at Court, neck out and
in joynt there, _War_, _Peace_, _Life_ and _Death_ derived from
thence) climb no higher? Or doth a familiarity with greatneſs, and
daily converſation and acquaintance with it breed a contempt of all
greatneſs? Or becauſe that they ſee that opinion or need of one
another, and fear makes the degrees of ſervants, Lords and Kings, do
they think that God likewiſe for ſuch Reaſon hath been mans Creator?
Perchance it is becauſe they ſee Vice proſper beſt there, and,
burthened with ſinne, doe they not, for their eaſe, endeavour to put
off the feare and Knowledge of God, as facinorous men deny
Magiſtracy? Or are the moſt Atheiſts in that place, becauſe it is the
foole that ſaid in his heart, There is no God.




[Decoration]

17.

_Why are ſtateſmen moſt incredulous?_


Are they all wiſe enough to follow their excellent pattern _Tiberius_,
who brought the ſenate to be diligent and induſtrious to believe him,
were it never so oppoſite or diametricall, that it deſtroyed their
very ends to be believed, as _Aſinius Gallus_ had almoſt deceived this
man by believing him, and the Major and Aldermen of _London_ in
_Richard_ the Third? Or are buſineſſes (about which theſe men are
converſant) ſo conjecturall, ſo ſubject to unſuſpected interventions
that they are therefore forc’d to ſpeak oraculouſly, whiſperingly,
generally, and therefore eſcapingly, in the language of
Almanack-makers for weather? Or are thoſe (as they call them) _Arcana
imperii_, as by whom the Prince provokes his luſt, and by whom he
vents it, of what Cloath his ſocks are, and ſuch, ſo deep, and ſo
irreveald, as any error in them is inexcuſable? If theſe were the
reaſons, they would not only ſerve for ſtate-buſineſs. But why will
they not tell true, what a Clock it is, and what weather, but abſtain
from truth of it, if it conduce not to their ends, as Witches will not
name Jeſus, though it be in a curſe? eithere they know little out of
their own Elements, or a Cuſtom in one matter begets an habite in all.
Or the lower ſort imitate Lords, they their Princes, theſe their
Prince. Or elſe they believe one another, and ſo never hear truth. Or
they abſtain from the little Channel of truth, leaſt, at laſt, they
ſhould _finde the fountain it ſelf, God_.




[Decoration]

18.

_Why was Sir Walter Raleigh thought the fitteſt Man, to write the
Hiſtorie of theſe Times?_


Was it becauſe that being told at his Arraignement, that a Witneſs
accuſing himſelf had the ſtrength of two; he may ſeem by Writing the
ills of his own Time to be believed? Or is it, becauſe he might
reenjoy thoſe Times by the Meditation of them? Or becauſe if he ſhould
undertake higher Times, he doth not think, that he can come nearer to
the Beginning of the World? Or becauſe like a Bird in a Cage, he takes
his Tunes from every paſſenger, that laſt whiſtled? Or becauſe he
thinks not that the beſt Echo which repeats moſt of the Sentence, but
that which repeats Leſs more plainly?




[Decoration]

CHARACTERS


1.

_The Character of a =Scot= at the first ſight._

At his firſt appearing in the _Charterhouſe_, an Olive coloured Veluet
ſuit owned him, which ſince became mous-colour, A pair of unſkour’d
ſtockings-gules, One indifferent ſhooe, his band of _Edenburgh_, and
cuffs of _London_, both ſtrangers to his ſhirt, a white feather in a
hat that had bin ſod, one onely cloak for the rain, which yet he made
ſerve him for all weathers: A Barren-half-acre of Face, amidſt whereof
an eminent Noſe advanced himſelf, like the new Mount at _Wanſted_,
overlooking his Beard, and all the wilde Country thereabouts; He was
tended enough, but not well; for they were certain dumb creeping
Followers, yet they made way for their Maſter, the Laird. At the
firſt preſentment his Breeches were his Sumpter, and his Packets,
Trunks, Cloak-bags, Portmanteau’s and all; He then grew a
Knight-wright, and there is extant of his ware at 100_l._ 150_l._ and
200_l._ price. Immediately after this, he ſhifteth his ſuit, ſo did
his Whore, and to a Bear-baiting they went, whither I followed them
not, but _Tom. Thorney_ did.




[Decoration]

2.

_The true Character of a =Dunce=._


He hath a Soule drownd in a lump of Fleſh, or in a piece of Earth that
_Prometheus_ put not half his proportion of Fire into, a thing that
hath neither edge of deſire, nor feeling of affection in it, The moſt
dangerous creature for confirming an _Atheiſt_, who would ſtraight
ſwear, his ſoul were nothing but the bare temperature of his body: He
ſleeps as he goes, and his thoughts ſeldom reach an inch further than
his eyes; The moſt part of the faculties of his ſoul lye Fallow, or
are like the reſtive Jades that no ſpur can drive forwards towards the
purſuite of any worthy deſign; one of the moſt unprofitable of all
Gods creatures, being as he is, a thing put clean beſides his right
uſe, made fitt for the cart & the flail, and by miſchance Entangled
amongſt books and papers, a man cannot tel poſſible what he is now
good for, ſave to move up and down and fill room, or to ſerve as
_Animatum Inſtrumentum_ for others to work withal in baſe Imployments,
or to be a foyl for better witts, or to ſerve (as They ſay monſters
do) to ſet out the variety of nature, and Ornament of the Univerſe, He
is meer nothing of himſelf, neither eates, nor drinkes, nor goes, nor
ſpits but by imitation, for al which, he hath ſet forms & faſhions,
which he never varies, but ſticks to, with the like plodding conſtancy
that a milhors follows his trace, both the muſes and the graces are
his hard Miſtriſſes though he daily Invocate them, though he ſacrifize
_Hecatombs_, they ſtil look a ſquint, you ſhall note him oft (beſide
his dull eye and louting head, and a certain clammie benum’d pace) by
a fair diſplai’d beard, a Nightcap and a gown, whoſe very wrincles
proclaim him the true genius of formality, but of al others, his
diſcours and compoſitions beſt ſpeak him, both of them are much of one
ſtuf & faſhion, he ſpeaks juſt what his books or laſt company ſaid
unto him without varying one whit & very ſeldom underſtands himſelf,
you may know by his diſcourſe where he was laſt, for what he read or
heard yeſterday he now diſchargeth his memory or notebook of, not his
underſtanding, for it never came there; what he hath he flings abroad
at al adventurs without accomodating it to time, place, perſons or
occaſions, he commonly loſeth himſelf in his tale, and flutters up and
down windles without recovery, and whatſoever next preſents it ſelf,
his heavie conceit ſeizeth upon and goeth along with, however
_Heterogeneal_ to his matter in hand, his jeſts are either old flead
proverbs, or lean-ſtarv’d-hackny-_Apophthegm’s_, or poor verball quips
outworn by Servingmen, Tapſters and Milkmaids, even laid aſide by
Balladers, He aſſents to all men that bring any ſhadow of reaſon, and
you may make him when he ſpeaks moſt Dogmatically, even with one
breath, to averr pure contradictions, His Compoſitions differ only
_terminorum poſitione_ from Dreams, Nothing but rude heaps of
Immaterial-inchoherent droſſie-rubbiſh-ſtuffe, promiſcuouſly thruſt up
together, enough to Infuſe dullneſs and Barrenneſs of Conceit into him
that is ſo Prodigall of his eares as to give the hearing, enough to
make a mans memory Ake with ſuffering ſuch dirtie ſtuffe caſt into it,
as unwellcome to any true conceit, as Sluttiſh Morſells or Wallowiſh
Potions to a Nice-Stomack which whiles he empties himſelfe of, it
ſticks in his Teeth nor can he be Delivered without Sweate and
Sighes, and Humms, and Coughs enough to ſhake his Grandams teeth out
of her head; Heel ſpitt, and ſcratch, and yawn, and ſtamp, and turn
like ſick men from one elbow to another, and Deſerve as much pitty
during this torture as men in Fits of Tertian Feavors or ſelfe laſhing
Penitentiaries; in a word, Rip him quite aſunder, and examin every
ſhred of him, you ſhall finde him to be juſt nothing, but the ſubject
of Nothing, the object of contempt, yet ſuch as he is you muſt take
him, for there is no hope he ſhould ever become better.




[Decoration]

21.

_An Eſſay of Valour._


I am of opinion that nothing is ſo potent either to procure or merit
Love, as Valour, and I am glad I am ſo, for thereby I ſhall do my ſelf
much eaſe, becauſe Valour never needs much wit to maintain it: To
ſpeak of it in it ſelf, It is a quality which he that hath, ſhall have
leaſt need of, so the beſt League between Princes is a mutual fear of
each other, it teacheth a man to value his reputation as his life, and
chiefly to hold the Lye unſufferable, though being alone, he holds
finds no hurt it doth him, It leaves it ſelf to others cenſures, for
he that brags of his own valour, diſſwades others from believing it,
It feareth a word no more than an Ague, It always makes good the
Owner, for though he be generally held a fool, he ſhall ſeldom hear ſo
much by word of mouth, and that enlargeth him more than any
ſpectacles, for it maketh a little fellow be called a tall man, it
yeilds the wall to none but a woman, whoſe weakneſs is her
prerogative, or a man ſeconded with a woman as an uſher, which always
goes before his betters, It makes a man become the witneſs of his own
words, and ſtand to whatever he hath ſaid, and thinketh it a reproach
to commit his reviling unto the Law, it furniſheth youth with action,
and age with diſcourſe, and both by futures, for a man muſt ever boaſt
himſelf in the preſent tenſe, and to come nearer home, nothing drawes
a woman like to it; for Valour towards men, is an Emblem of an ability
towards women, a good quality ſignifies a better. Nothing is more
behooffull for that Sex; for from it they receive protection, and we
free from the danger of it: Nothing makes a ſhorter cut for obtaining,
for a man of Arms is always void of Ceremony, which is the wall that
ſtands between _Pyramus_ and _Thiſbe_, that is, _Man_ and _Woman_, for
there is no pride in women but that which rebounds from our own
baſeneſſe (as Cowards grow valiant upon thoſe that are more Cowards)
ſo that only by our pale aſking we teach them to deny, and by our
ſhamefac’dneſs, we put them in minde to be modeſt, whereas indeed it
is cunning _Rhetorick_ to perſwade the hearers that they are that
already which he would have them to be; This kinde of baſhfulneſs is
far from men of Valour, and eſpecially from ſouldiers, for ſuch are
ever men (without doubt) forward and confident, loſing no time leaſt
they ſhould loſe opportunity, which is the beſt Factor for a Lover,
and becauſe they know women are given to diſſemble, they will never
believe them when they deny, _Whilome_ before this age of wit, and
wearing black, were broke in upon us, there was no way known to win a
Lady but by Tylting, Turnying, and riding through Forreſts, in which
time theſe ſlender ſtriplings with little legs were held but of
ſtrength enough to marry their widows, and even in our days there can
be given no reaſon of the Inundation of Servingmen upon their
Miſtreſſes, but (only) that uſually they carry their Maſters Weapons,
and his Valour: To be accounted handſome, juſt, learned, or well
favoured, all this carries no danger with it, but it is to be admitted
to the Title of Valiant Acts, at leaſt the adventuring of his
mortality, and al women take delight to hold him safe in their arms
who hath ’ſcapt thither through many dangers: To ſpeak at once, Man
hath a priviledge in Valour; In clothes and good faces we but imitate
women, and many of that Sex will not think much (as far as an anſwer
goes) to diſſemble wit too. So then theſe neat youths, theſe women in
mens apparel are too near a woman to be beloved of her, They be both
of a Trade, but be grim of aſpect, and ſuch a one as Glaſs dares take,
and ſhe will deſire him for neatneſs and varietie; A ſkar in a mans
face is the ſame that a mole in a womans; a Jewel ſet in white to make
it ſeem more white, for the ſkar in a man is a mark of honour and no
blemiſh, for ’tis a ſkar and a blemiſh too in a Souldier too to be
with out one: Now as for al things elſe which are to procure Love, as
a good face, wit, good clothes, or a good body, each of them I confeſs
may work ſomewhat for want of a better, That is, if _Valour be not
their Rivall_; A good face avails nothing if it be in a coward that is
baſhfull, the utmoſt of it is to be kiſſ’d, which rather encreaſeth
then quencheth appetite; He that ſends her gifts ſends her word alſo,
that he is a man of ſmall gifts otherwiſe, for wooing by ſigns and
tokens implies the Author dumb; and if _Ovid_ who writ _the Law of
Love_, were alive (as he is extant) would allow it as good a
diverſity, that gifts ſhould be ſent as gratuities, not as bribes;
Wit getteth rather promiſe then Love, Wit is not to be ſeen, and no
woman takes advice of any in her loving, but of her own eyes, and her
waiting womans; Nay which is worſe, wit is not to be felt, and ſo no
good fellow; Wit apply’d to a woman makes her diſſolve (or diſcloſe)
her ſimpering, and diſcover her teeth with laughter, and this is
ſurely a purge for love; for the beginning of love is a kind of
fooliſh melancholy, as for the man that makes his Taylor his Bawd, and
hopes to inveagle his Love with ſuch a coloured ſuit, ſurely the ſame
deeply hazards the loſs of her favour upon every change of his
clothes; So likewiſe for the other, that Courts her ſilently with a
good body, let me certifie him that his clothes depend upon the
comelyneſſe of the body, and ſo both upon opinion; ſhe that hath been
ſeduced by Apparel, let me give her to wit, _that men always put off
their clothes before they go to bed_; and let her that hath been
enamour’d of her ſervants body, underſtand, _that if ſhe ſaw him in a
ſkin of cloth_, that is, in a ſuit made to the pattern of his body,
_ſhe would ſee ſlender cauſe to love him ever after_; there are no
clothes ſit ſo well in a woman’s eye, as a ſuit of Steel, though not
of the faſhion, and no man ſo ſoon ſurpriſeth a womans affections as
he that is the ſubject of all whiſperings, and hath always twenty
ſtories of his own deeds depending upon him; Miſtake me not, I
underſtand not by valour one that never fights but when he is back’d
by drink or anger, or hiſſ’d on with beholders, nor one that is
deſperate, nor one that takes away a Servingmans weapons when
perchance it coſt him his quarters wages, nor yet one that wears a
Privy coat of defence and therein is confident, for then ſuch as made
Bucklers, would be accounted the _Catalines_ of this Commonwealth—I
intend one of an even Reſolution grounded upon reaſon, which is always
even, having his power reſtrained by the Law of not doing wrong. But
now I remember I am for Valour and therefore I muſt be a man of few
words.




Transcriber’s Note


Inconsistent period spelling retained as printed. The original printing
used _ß_ occasionally, but inconsistently, in place of _ſſ_: this usage
has not been retained.