A POSTE VVITH a madde Packet of Letters LONDON Printed for Iohn Smethicke and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunstons Church-yard in Fleetstreet 1602. To the Reader GEntle if you be be you so gentle Reader you shal vnderstand that I know not wheÌ„ there came a Post I know not whence was going I know not whither and carryed I knowe not what But in his way I knowe not how it was his happe with lacke of heed to let fall a Packet of Idle Papers the superscription whereof beeing onely to him that findes it beeing my fortune to light on it seeing no greater stile in the direction fell to opening of the enclosure in which I founde diuers Letters written to whom or from whom I could not learne Now for the Contents of the Circumstances when you haue red them iudge of them and as you like them regard them And for my selfe if I heare you like well of them when I meet next with the Poste it may be I will cast about with him for more of them till then fearing to be too tedious in this Letter lest you like the worse of that which followeth I rest as I haue reason Your louing friend Nicho. Breton The Contents of this Booke A Letter of comfortable aduise to a friend and his answere A Letter of aduise to a yong Courâ—er and his answere A mournfull Letter to a brother and his answere A Letter of a Iealous husband to his wife and her cunning answere A Letter of kind Complements to a friend and his answere A Letter of loue to a Gentle woman and her answere A Letter of scorne to a coy Dame and her answere A Letter to a fowle Dowde and her answere A Letter for the preferring of a seruant and the answere A Letter of counsell to a friend and his answere A Letter of comfort to a sister in sorrow and her answere A Letter of counsell from a kind Father A kind answere of a louing sonne A Merchants Letter to his Factor and his answere A Letter of challenge and the answere A merry Letter or neweâ— of complaints The answere of the Laughe A Letter to a friend for newes and his answere A disswading from marriage and the answere A kind Letter of a Creditor for mony The debters answere A Letter of Newes and the answere A Poste with a mad Packet Of Letters A Letter of comfortable aduise to a Friend HOnesâ— Alexander I heare thou art of late tallen into an extreame melancholy by reason of the suddaine departure of Pannella out of this life for thy sake I am sorie shee hath left her passage on this earth though being too gooâ—â—or this worlde she be surely gone to a better now if thy mourning could recouer her from death I could willingly beare part of thy passion but when it doth her no good and thy selfe much hurt let not a wilâ—ull humour leade thee into a wofull Consumption Thou knowest she is sencelessâ— in the graue and wilt thou therefore be witlesse in the world Say thy loue is extreame and lâ—t me beleeue it wilt thou therefore depriue nature of reason God forbid it well thou knowest I lent thee and in my loue let me aduâ—se thee not to goe from thy selfe with an imagination of what was to looseth it which is because she is in heauen wilt thou be in hell or if shâ— be hâ—lfe an Angell wilt thou be more then hâ—lfe a diuel â—â— spend thy spirit in a better humour let not the remâ—mbrance of her perfection driue thee into unperfections nor make loue hatefull to othâ—r by seeing the vnhappinesse in thy selfe Oâ— let not sancte shew folly in thee howsoeuer vertue deserued honour in her Leaue thy solitary humor and come and liue with me we will dâ—â—nse some good meaneâ— for the remoue of this melancholy In the meantime make not too much of it least it proue to a madnesse Loue thy selfe and beleeâ—â— thy friend and what is in me to too thee good commaund as thinâ— owne glad I would be to see thee as he who defy entierly lous thee and so desirous to heare from thee to the Almightie I leauâ— thee Farewell Thine as his owns D. F. His Answere KInde Francke I haue receiued thy friendly Letter and note thy carefull loue but pardon me if I do not answere thee to thy liking Alas how can he truly iudge of life that neuer kindly was in loue or know how soundly to help a sorrow that neuer inwardly felt it reading makes a scholler by rule and obseruation I know doth much in the perfecting of Art but experience is that which toucheth knowledge to the quicke My mistresse beautie was no Moone shine whose vertue gaue light to the harts eye nor her wisdom an ordinary wit which put reason to his perfect vnderstanding and for her Graces are they not written among the vertuous Thou saiâ—st well she was too heaueÌ„ly a creature to make her habitatioÌ„ on this earth is it not then a kind of hell to be without her in the world Imaginations are no dreames where substances are the obiects of the sences while the eye of memorie is neuer weary of seeing Oh honest Francke thinke thou hast not liued that hast not loued nor canst liue in this world to haue such a loue to die in It is a dull spirit that is fed with obliuion and a dead sence that hath no feeling of loue thinke therefore what was is with me and my selfe as nothing without the enioying of that something which was to me as all in all Is not the presence of an Angell able to rauish the sight of a man And is not the light of Beautie the life of loue Leaue then to burthen me with imperfections in my sorrow for her want whose presence was my paradise and whose absence my worldâ— hell thou doest misconstrue my good in languishing for her lacke and knowest not my hurt in thinking of any other comfort â—o Francke let it suffice though I loue thee I cannot forget her and though I liue with thee yet will I die for her haue patience then with my passion till time better temper my affection in which most diuoted to thee of any man liuing til I let thee which shall be as shortly as I well can I rest Thine as thou knowest D. E. A Letter of aduise to a yong Courtier My good Cousen I heare you are of late growne a great Courtier I wish you much grace and the continuing of your best comfort but for that your yeares haue not had time to see much and your kindnesse may hap to be abused let me intreat you a little now and then to looke to that which I tell you Keep your purse warily and your credit charily your reputation valiantly and your honor carefully for your friends as you finde them vse them for your enemies feare them not but looke to them for your loue let it be secret in the bestowing and discreet
on them in the mean time more at quiet in my lodging with a friend then perhaps I may be at home with a wife not forswearing marriage nor peasting to purgatory in stead of a mistaken paradise wishing thy prayers for my better happinesse then loues idlenesse and if I doo marry to be kindly matched I rest Thine aâ— mine owne D. L. A Letter of vnkindnesse vpon a deniall of a Courtesie IF my deserts had not excéeded my desire I would haue hateâ— the nature of my humor which loues nothing lesse then to be too much beholding my request was not much and the grant but easie howsoeuer for ill fashion the excuse â—ay be cunningly framed but though I conceiue vnkindnesse in this course I can rather grieue then be angry for I wil mistrust my wit til I sée too much of my sorrow and loue my friend though I be plaine with his patience be content therefore rather to let me tell you of my discontent then to couer a dissimulation and to wish your better regard of my affection then to giue me iust cause to touch the care of your discretion which in denying a triflle may loose a greater benefit but not to goe too farre in impatience let me thus grow to an ende Friendship once grounded is not easily remoued and therefore being assured of my loue beare with my dislike and wherein I may better pleasure you doubt not the ill requiâ—all of vnkindnes for I can chide and not be angry and better loue you then tell you so And so intreating your reasonable answere for my satisfaction I rest all displeasure set apart Your louing friend N. S. His answere YOur humorous kind of writing puts me to studie for an Answere for your anger without cause may moue caulâ— of anger you know you might commaund what I am and will you haue morâ— Conceâ—t may be deceiued and so kindâ—â—sse abused and suspition of impatience hath the least part of disâ—râ—â—on Excuses are idle among frâ—â—nds and therefore words shall be deferred till our meeting when sâ—â—ing your owne fâ—ulâ— you will not thinke amisse of your friend grieue not then without cause nor be carried away with conceit and as you know my nature commaund my loue which is farre from the thought to make a friend beholding be not discontent with a denâ—all till you haue better reason of displeasure but measure me with your â—â—lfe and you shall finde smal cause of difference if there be any let kindnesse dispute it reason confesse â—t anâ— patience bâ—â—re it so shall friends be themselues and you and I shall not fall out So hoping that you wil satâ—â—fie your selfe with this answerâ— tiâ— we mâ—â—t to talke further of the matter I conclude with your kindnes and rest euer Yours as you knâ—w T.W. A Letter to an vnthankfull person I Haue heard that a Prince sometime ordeining a punishment for all offences leâ—t Ingratitude to the gods to plague as pâ—â—â— manâ— power to punish â—â—ough the Tale may well be true conâ—â—dering the vilenesse of such a nature as I thinke the â—â—ke liueth not in the shape of man Couldest thou not only forget but abuse my kindnesse and so make a monster of a wicked shadow I could not haue beleeued it had I not too weâ—l proueâ— it but I wish you would leaue the humor least it make a loâ—thsome nature and though I wil not reuenge a wrong vpon a 〈…〉 to much basenesse yet wil I learne to know the condition of so much vilenesse and as well warne my friends from an enemy as further abuse mine own wit with so mistaking of a friend In briefe therefore let me tell you as I know you I regard you and as I found you I leaue you as one fit if there lacked a Card to put in the stock for a wicked help And so sorie to haue lost so much time to write to you I wish all the world that knowes you to hate you Your enemy from the heart D. M. His answere HOw straungely men will write that impatience doth put out of order a good turne is lost when it is cast in the receiuers teethe and abuse misconceiued can hardly be well excused consider better of what is done then wrong the meaning of a good minde and you shall finde without excuse no true cause of displeasure If the information of malice haue moued choller without iudgement poore men must endure the misery of euill fortune against my selfe I wil confesse nothing but referre time to decide all doubts when Truth shall put the differences betwixt a shadow and a better substance So leauing ill humors to like mindes and good thoughts to better natures hoping to finde you your selfe which wil be farre inough from that you write In spight of the diuel I commit you to God and so rest Your friend whether you will or noâ— D. R. A Letter to laugh at after the old fashion of 〈◊〉 to a Maide AFter my hartic commendations trusting in God that you are in good health as I was aâ— the writing â—â—râ—oâ— with my Father and my Mother my broâ—hers and sisters and all my good friends thankes be to God The cause of my writing to you at this time is that Eâ—len I do hear since my â—â—â—â—ing from Wakefield when you know what taâ—ke â—re bad together at the signâ— of the bleâ— Cucâ—oe and how you did giâ—e me your hand and swear that you would not forsake me for all the woâ—â—de and how you made me buy a Kiâ—ng and a â—art that cost me rightâ—â—â—e peneâ— which I left with you and you gaue me a Napkin to wearâ—â—n my â—â—t I thanke you which I will weare to my dying dayâ—â—nd I 〈◊〉 if it be true as I heare that you haue altâ—red your minde and are made sore to my neighbour Hobâ—ins younger sonne truly Ellen you do not welâ— in so doing and God wil pâ—aâ—â—e you for it and I hope I shall liue and if I neuer haue you for there are moâ—e maides theâ— Maulkin and I count my selfe worth the whisâ—ing And therefore praying you to write me your answer by thâ—s bearer my friend touching the truth of all how the matter â—tâ—ndâ— with you I comâ—â—â— you to God From Caâ—loâ— grâ—â—ne Your true Loâ—er R. P. Her Answere Tâ—uly Roger I did not looke for such a Letter from your hands I would you should know I scorne it Haue I gotten my Father and Mothers ill will for you to be so vsed at your hands I pâ—rceiue â— you be so Iealous alreadie you would be somewhat an other day I am glad I finde you that you can beleeue any thing of me but t is no matter I care not send me my Napkin and you shall hâ—ue your King and your Hart for I can haue enough and I neuer see you more for there are more Batchelers then Roger and my peny is as good siluer as yours and therefore séeing you are so lustie euen put vp your pipes for I will haue no more to do with you And so â—nsaying all that euer hath bene said betwixt us make your choyse where you list I know where to be loued and so I end From Wakefield M. R. FINIS
in the placing for if fansie be a wanton wit will be a foole Scorne not Ladies for they are worthy to be loued but make not loue to many left thou be beloued of none if thou hast a fauour be not proud of thy fortune but thinke it discretion to conceale a contentment goe neat but not gaie left it argue lightnesse and take heed of lauish expence left it begger thy state play little and loose not much vse exercise but make no toyle of a pleasure Reade much but dull not thy braine and conferre but with the wise so shalt thou get vnderstanding Pride is a kinde of coynesse which is a little too womannish and common familiaritie is too neare the Clowne for a Courtier but carry thy selfe euen that thou maist fall on neither side so wil the wise commend thee and the better sort affect thee but let me not be tedious left it may perhaps offend thee and therfore as I liue let it suffice I loue thee And so wishing thee as much good as thou canst wish to be wished in praier for thy health and hope of thy happines to my vttermost power I rest in affectionate good will Thine euer assured H. L. His Answere SWéete Cousen I thinke you haue either some Court in the Country or else you are much studied in the Courtier that you can set downe such rules as are no lesse worthy the reading then obseruing beleeue me they shall be my best leizures studies and in my daily courses my counsellors my solicitors in loue and my Judges in honor my guiders in greatest hopes and my admonitions in greatest dangers for your paines in them I thank you and for your kindnesse I loue you your care of me I see by them and wil not vnkindly forget them I must confesse I finde Courtiers close people and Ladies strange creatures and loue so idle an humor that I am afraide to loose time in it but the better by your aduise I hope to carry a hand ouer it For apparel I wil keepe my stint and care for no fond fashion and for exercise nature is so giuen to ease that good qualities are almost cut of vse and for vertue poore Lady she is scarce able to liue with her pension but for study I haue litle time so much company withdraweth meâ—aâ—d for a booke next the Bible your Letter shall be my Library And thus smiling at such Gâ—lls as think no grace but in a gay coat nor wit but in a stale Iest noting many a begger like a king and many a Lord like a poore gentleman seeing the truth of Salomon in his conclusioÌ„ of all earthly comforts that all vnder y t Sun is vanitie meaning not to be a seruant to a base humor nor to reach higher theÌ„ I may hold 〈◊〉 thankful kindnes for thy carefull Letter and faithfull affection to thy worthy selfe wishing thee so neare me that I might neuer be from thee I rest Thine what mine owne N. B. A mournfull Letter to a brother GOod brother the misery of my home life the crosnesse of my cruell fortune and the vnkindnes of my vnnatural kin haue made me so weary of this world that I long for nothing but my latest houre and yet loth to dispaire of Gods mercies willing to take any good course for my commoditie I haue of late bin perswaded by some of experience in their trauailes into those parts that my trauaile into the lowe Countries would be much to my commoditie as wel for my language as my skil in such traffique as I wold make vse of in those places but my state being so down the wind that I know not how to get vp the weather hauing no stock to laie out to giue me hope to bring in I wil euen set vp my rest vpon my resolution oâ—scâ—une and thrust my selfe into some place of seruice where I will either win the horse or loose the sadâ—ell as If J dâ— mercie is my comfort if I liue desert is my hope but to the hâ—lping forth of this my forlorne spirit good brother put too your hand assuring your selfe that I wil not liue to be vngratefull for as my heart loueth you my soule shall pray for you and when I haue time to see you I wil not be from you And thus agreeued to charge you neuer more meaning to trouble you beseeching God to enable me to requite you in the true loue of a naturall brother I rest Yours as mine owne N. B. His Answere DEare brother as I grieue at your crosses so would I that I could as wel procure your comforts But my state much inferior to my wil makes me vnable to satisfie your expectatioÌ„ yet wil I hurt my self rather then you should perish for you shal receiue by this bearer what I am able and more as I shal be better able But touching your courses for the low Countries I fear your traffiquâ— wil be but litle gainfull the warres so eate vp the wealth of the country and for your intent touching armes I feare your forwardnes is too great for your experience Yet do I so farre allow of your good mind herein as I should lesse grieue to heare of your honorable death abroad theÌ„ see your discoÌ„tented life at home and therefore for winning the horse or loosing the saddle leaue that to Gods blessing who wil bestow honor as it shall please his diuine prouidence but good brother haue patience with thy crosses attend mercie for thy comforts haue a care of home howsoeuer thou farest abroad I know thy mind is great but take heed of pride lest it be a bar to all thy fortune and ouerthrow of all thine honor I see thou art weary of y e world make theÌ„ thy way toward heaueÌ„ that God who hath tried thée with calamities may blesse thée with eternall comforts In hope whereof willing in all I can to helpe thée praying hartily for thee with my vnfained hearts loue vnto thee to the Lord of heauen I leaue thee Thy louing brother D. S. A Letter of a Iealous husband to his wife WIfe in as much kindnesse as I can I aduise you to leane such courses as are neither to your credit nor my contentment you know much company causes many occasions of Idle spéeches and yong men are not in these daies giuen to speak the best of their kind friends trifles and toies were better refused theÌ„ accepted and time iâ—lely spent brings but beggery or a worse blot of all the birds in the field I loue not a Cuâ—koe in my house truly I do not dissemble with you your light behauiour doth much dislike me and how glad I would be to haue it reformed you shall know when I sâ—e it shall I make you fine to please an other and displease my selfe shall I leaue you my house to make an hospitalitie of ill fellowship â—it me not so with the foole how euer you feed your selfe with a foule humor shake off such
acquaintance as gaine you nothing but discredit and make much of him that must as well winter you as sommer you Looke to your house haue a care ouer your children set your seruants to worke and haue an eye to the maine chance leaue tatling gossips Idle hus wiuâ—s vaine headed fellowes and néedlesse charge so wil God blesse you and the world wil thriue with you your neighbours speake well of you and I shall truly loue you And thus hoping that you wil by this my secret admenition haue a care of your good carriage I rest in hope of your well doing Your louing husband T. F. Her cunning Answere HUsband with as much patience as I can I haue red ouer your vnwise Letter wherein Iealousie kéepes such a stirre that loue doth but laugh at such Iolenesse much company driues away idle thoughts and for fooles it is good to be afraide of had I wist Ill thoughts beget ill speeches and an olde dog bites sorer then a yong whelpe for beggery let it fall vpon the slothfull I know how to worke for my â—uing and for blots speak to scribblers for I haue no skil in writing Now for the Bird to answer you with the Beast I thinke a Calfe in a Closet is as ill as a Cuckoe in a Cage If I were sullaine you would sure suspect my humor and doo you mislike my merrie behauiour wel your conceit may be deformed in being so wrongfully informed to haue me so suddeinly reformed My finenesse is your countenance and my conuersation your credit and therefore do you shake off your lowzie humors I wil make choyse of better company your house wil stand fast if it fall not and your children be quieter then their Father your seruants earne their wages and the maine chaunce is nicked wâ—ll inough Wemen must talke when they méete and men not be scorned though not entertained and hée that kéepeth a house must seeke to defraie the charge And so hoping that you wil leaue your Iealouzie and thinke of some maâ—ter of more worth as carefull of my carriage as you of your credit meaning to â—o as well as I can without your teaching and as well as if you were at home I rest Your too much louing wife I F. A Letter of kind Complements to a Friend WHere I loue much I speak little for affection hath smal pleasure in ceremonies your kindnesse I haue found my desert I dare not speake of least it more offend my selfe to thinke on then you to looke on but since you haue made me happie in your acquaintance let me not too long lacke your company for though I liue among many good neighbâ—urs yet do I much want the comfort of so good a â—riend by whâ—m I should not only gaine the vse of Time but finâ—â— the prâ—fiâ— of my desire which ioyning issue with your humors cannot â—ut so concurre with your contentment that if there be a paradise on the earth I hope to finde it in the faire passages of our loues which grounded on vertue and growing in kindnesse cannot chuse but be blessedly fruitfull In briefe til I see you I will mourne and if not the sooner I shall languish for my wishing and want cannot be satisfied with absence hasten therefore your comming and make your own welcome for what I haue or 〈◊〉 enter in the â—owle of your possession where in the freehold of my loue I assure the substance of my life And so leauing compliments to tâ—ngue spirits in the truth of an hâ—nest heart I rest Yours as you do and shall euer know me N. B. His Answere Sâ—â— I haue receiued your kind Letter and I finde you verâ—e fine at your corner you wil speake and say nothing be eloquent in plainnesse but you must not speake in the cloudes to them that are acquainted with the Moone and say what you wil I must beléeue of my selfe what I list for indeed I know mine owne vnworthinesse of your commendation in which I will rather beare with your affection then be conceited with your opinion Yet not to be either disdainful or vngratefull be not so farre deceiued in my disposition that wherein my presence may pleasure you I wil answere you with â—ine absence nor long delaie your expectation for excuse is but cold kindnesse and too much haste is not fit therefore assoone as I conueniently can I assure you you shall séeme and in full measure with your affection finde me to the vttermâ—st of my power rather in action then protâ—station during life in faire weather or fowle Yours 〈◊〉 mine owne W. R. A Letter of Loue to a Gentlewoman FAire Mistrâ—ssâ— to Court you with eloquence were as ill as to gréeue you with grossâ— humors let it therefore please you rather to beleeue what I write thâ—n to note how I speak for my hart being fired in your eies hath vowed my seruice to your bewtie in which finding reasons admiration can think but of nature in her perfection in which being rauished about it selfe craâ—eth of your fauour to be instructed by your kindnes I meane no further then in obedience to your commaundement for if I be any thing my selfe it shall be nothing more then yours and lesse then nothing if not yours in all I could commend you aboue y t skies compare you with the Sunâ—e or set you among the Starres figure you with the Phoenix and imagine you a Goddesse but I will leaue such weake praising fictions and thinke you onely your selfe whose vertuous beautie and whose honorable discretion in the care of a little kindnes is able to command the loue of y â— wife and the labours of the honest with the best of their endeuours in the happinesse of your imployment to seeke the height of their fortune thinke not therefore I flatter you in hope of fâ—uour but honour you in y â— desert of worthinesse in which if you wil vouchsafe to entertaine the seruice of my affection what you shall find in my loue I wil leaue to your kindnes to coÌ„sider In the care of which comfort crauing pardon to my presumption I rest humbly and wholy Yours directed to be commaunded E. W. Her Answere SIr I haue heard schollers say that it is Art to coÌ„ceale Art and that vnder a face of simplicitie is hidden much subtiltie of which howe sillie Women neede to be afraide I will leaue to wise men to consider And though I cannot in fine nor fitte tearmes aunswere the humour of your writing yet after a plaine and homely fashion I will entreate you to accept of my writing Perfection and corruption cannot méetâ— together in one subiect and therefore my imagined â—â—aâ—tie bring but a shadow of deceit beleeue not your eyes til they haue a better speculation and for the inward parts of commendations I am perswaded that wit is not worth any thing that is drawne into admiration of nothing only this not vnkindly to requit your good thoughts of little worth leauing fiâ—iâ—ns
had sent more of them for they are much in request and well solâ—e I haue by good happe met with a hundreâ— Tunne of Gascoigne Wines upon a good market as you may knowe by my note Prunes are good and good cheape and therefore I haue sent you the greater store of them on the â—aâ—tes you shall finde my marke with two letters of your name I haue sent you likewise a Tunne of Cuchiniles which I bought by a great chaâ—nce the price you shall findâ— in my note with the rest By the next Poste you shall heare what I neede in the meane time hauing no intelligence of worth â—oth to trouble you with â—â—â—tleâ— glad to performâ— that 〈◊〉 that your kindnesse hath bounde me too wishing to liue no longer then to discharge the office of an honest care praying for your long health and euerlasting happinesse I humbly take my leane Your faithfull seruant C.B. A Letter of chalenge My wrongs are so many as may no longer be digeâ—ted and your excuses so idle as I will beneforth despise them for your words are but winde and therefore I am wearie of them and therefore if you bee not of so cold a complexion that you bare not maintaine your reputation méete me to morrow early in the morning in some â—elds a mile out of Towne and bring with you such Armes as you doo ordinarily carrie assigne your place aâ—d houre and faâ—e not your appointment that God the Iudge of 〈◊〉 may determine of our wrongs and the point of the sword may put a period to our discourses Thus hauing blowne ouer an idle paper with a fewe last words of my intent answerâ— me as I expect or â—eare of me as it will fall out â—n haste Your enemie to the death T.P. The answere What you haue written to me I returne upon your selfe as loth to loose time in answere of such idlenesse if you burst goe alone I would goe with you but let it suffice you that I know â—â—u and therefore meane not to trust you but bring a friend with you and I am readie for you come to my lodging as early as you wil and though I would be loth to breake a sleepe for you yet I will take a little paine to answere you and for the field wee will cast loâ—â—es for the place where God and a good conscience will quickâ—y determine tâ—e quarell but I feare the point of the sword will make a comma to your â—unning which if it doo you shall finde whâ—t will follow And so leauing further wâ—rds wishing you to be as good as your word I end Yours as you mine H.W. A merriâ— Letter or Newes of complaints HOnest George mine olde schoolefellow and kinde friend glad to heare of thy home quiet how euer I fare wâ—â—â—â—y farre trauell whereas thou writest vnto me for such Newes as this place â—eelds let me tell thee that there are so many and so fewe of them true that I dare almost write none onely this vpon my knowledge I dare deliuer thâ—â— that of late in this Cittie there are a number of complaints euery houre in the day but all to little purpose The Souldier complaines either of peace or peâ—â—rie the Lawier either of lacke of Clients or cold fâ—es the Merchant of small trafficke or ill fortune the Trades man of lacke of Chapmen the labourers of lacke of worke the poorâ— men of lacke of charitie and the rich men of lacke of money the thâ—efe of lacke of booties and the hangman that his trees are bare in briefâ— if I should tel thâ—e of all the complaints that I heare of as well among the Feminine as Masculiâ—e gender how soâ—e old women crye out of young vnthâ—ifts and some young wenches complaine â—f olde misers How some complaine of their customers and some other of their neighbours it were such a world of idle stoâ—â—e as would but trouble thee in the reading but since their complaints are all to little purpose for that Sâ—uldiers are but for eâ—tremities though honourable in their erployâ—â— and Lawiers are some trâ—ublesome except vpon agreement of controueâ—sâ—es though Iudges are worthy honour in execution of iuâ—â—ice and Merchants may beare with fortâ—ne when their Coffers are full of coyne though in respect of their trafficke they are the maintenance of the Common-wealth and Trades men may sell cheape when their best wares are all vttered though it is necessarie that they bee set on worke for the maintenance of the state and labourers may rest when their Haruest is in though it be needfull to set them to worke for the auoyding of idlenesse beggers mâ—y hold their peacâ— when they haue filled the patches of their profession though it is not amisse to relieue them for the exercise of charitie now the rich men may shrugge their shoulders when they haue no vse for their bagges though sometimâ— it be requâ—â—â—t rather to be sparing then prodigall and for thâ— Thâ—efe let him â—â—gh till the hangman doo helpâ— him and for thâ— hangman let him mourne for hee iâ— sure the diuell lieâ— in waitâ— for him and therefore let the oldâ— meâ—ill munch and the young titte mourne I cannot helpe them but as I hâ—are of their complaints I haue written thee the contents which being scarcâ— worth the reading I lâ—aue to thy worst vsing And so sorrie that I haue no matter of worth wherewith better to fit thinâ— humor in as much kindnesse as I can I commend my loue to thy comâ—â—â—ndement and so I 〈◊〉 Thine euer 〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉 W. P. The answere of the lâ—ugh MY good wagge I see trauell hath not so altred thine humor but thou wilâ— euer be thy selfe with thy â—â—ienâ—s for thy kind Letter I thanke thee and as kindly as I can will requiâ—e thee as you are there full of sorrow we are here full of mirth for in euery place there is nothing so coÌ„mon as laughing one laughs at an other the wise man laughes at the â—â—â—le to see the nature of his imperfâ—ctions and the foole laughes at the wise man becausâ— nature lets him know none of his sorrowes the rich man laughes at the poore to see the maner of his life and the poore man laugheâ— at the rich to sâ—e the miserie of his care the faire laughes at the sowle to see how they are despised and the fowle laugh at the faire to see how they are troubled the honest laugh at the knauâ— to see how he shifts with the world and the knaue laughes at the honest to see how his simplicitie is abused for particulars how any one laughes at the other eyther the old at the youthfull or they at the aged I dare say nothing but wâ—rt thou hare and had I not the more cause of sorrow we would laugh a little together to looâ—â— at the laugher of this world but they say he may laugh y â— wimâ—es at least till he loose againe but the natures of their laughing are diuers and very strange for some
laugh so loude that they are noted foolish some laugh so wide that they shame their mouthes with lacke of teeth and some laugh so cunningly that they â—â—â—ther it vp in a smile but let them laugh till they be wearie it is a good world wheÌ„ men are merry Which hoping thou art or praying thou maiest be that when we kindly meâ—t we may commune better of these conceits wishing thee all contentment and my selfe the pappinesse of thy good company till I see thee and euer I rest one and the same Thine as thou knowest R. W. A Letter to a friend for Newes COuzen I know you that liue abroad in the world cannot but heare of newes euery day which we here in the Countrey would be glad now and than to â—ee acquainted with your labour will not be much in writing and for your kindnesse it shall not be vnrequited we heare much murmuring of many things but little truth of any thing but from you that know I would be glad to learne There iâ— a speech among some idle Astronomers that the man in the Moone hath falâ—e in loue with a Starre and walking through the cloudes was almost â—rowned in the water and that the Tomblers of y â— forrest haue spoiled a number of black Conneys so that Rabbots are so deare that a poore man may bee glad of a peece of mutton It is said heere with vs in these parts that you of the Citie are much troubled with a new disease truly we haue reasonable good health but that there are such plagues in diuers houses what with shrewd wiues and euill husbands stubborne chilâ—ren and wicked seruants that many honest men cannot liue in quiet with their neighbours Though the Spring be not very forward yet there is great encrease of many things especially of children which how they may answere the â—awe I will not greatly stanâ— vpon Thus hauing no matter of moment wherwith at this time to trouble you entreating you that I may â—â—ortly heare from you I â—est in much affâ—ction Assuredly yours R. T. His Answere MY good Cousen to answere your kinde Letter if there were any thing heere worth the writing I would not haue beene so long silent but such are the occurrents in these places as are either not worth the noting or better vnspoken theâ— written for loue in youth is â—o full of idlenessâ— and malice in age so malicious that vertue is so hid vp in corners that there is little or nothing spoken of her account For the man of the Moone I leaue him to waite on the Sunne but if he haue a mind to any Starre I leaue him to follow his owlight for his watery element since it is all in cloudes let it hang in the Ayre I will not meddle with his louing Astronomy For Connies I am no Warrener and therefore let them that haue the keeping of the groundes looke to their game I haue small sport in such idlenesse but for a peece of mutton a young lambe is worth fiue old Connies and he that is not glad of such a feast let him fast for his dinner For our new disease it is with many men in the head â— women in the tongue seruants grow great libertines and children are sicke of the parents and for neighbours there is so much loue in the streets that there is almost none in the houses and therefore besides other ordinarie diseases we want no plagues to make vs looke into our sinnes But God amend all for one sâ—arcâ— mend an other and therefore entreating you to haue patience with me till the next weeke when you shall heare of the best Newes that come to my hands I rest in bounden good will Yours as mine owne N. R. A disswading from marriage SWeete Cousen I am sorie to heare that being so well at ease you wil coosin your self of your quiet and for want of a worlds hell you will put your selfe into a purgatorie with a wife but if it may be that I speake in time heare what I sâ—y 〈◊〉 shee be faire it may bâ—eed iealousie if foulâ— disâ—ike â—nd chauâ—ge if rich take hâ—â—d of pridâ— if poore misâ—rie if young bewâ—re the wâ—ntâ—â— if â—lâ— take heed of the â—eldame if wise shâ—â— will gouernâ— thee iâ— foolish she will fret thee how deare soeuer she loue thee she will sometime or other either crosse or flâ—tter thee and therfore if thou wilt be ruled by a friend let neither old nor young faire nor â—eu'â— trouble thee beleeue me as I haue read these are y e properties of most wiues to weaken strrinâ—th to trouble wit to eâ—ptie purses and to breed humors but if I be deceiued in my reading or mine Author in his writing either in altering your course or prouing your comfort tel me your minde when we meete Till when wishing you continuance of that quiet wherein you now liue or the true contentment of the best loue leauing to your discretion the mannaging of your affection I commit you to the Almightie Thine euer â—s his owne T. W. The answere GOod Couâ—â—n I find your kindnesse aboue your knowledge in mistaking paradice for purgatoâ—ie for a wife is y â— wealth of the minde and the welfare of the heart where the best iudgement of Reason findes Discretions contentment May bâ— is a â—oubt but what is must be regarded in which â—ence I anâ— pleased where youth with beautie and wit with â—ertâ—â— haue power to command where kindnessâ— must obey Pouertie I feare not and wealth I seeke not but it sufficeth â—e to seeke no other fortune â—o the summe of my worlds happinesse where the auoyding of euill and the hope of good makes me know more comfort then you are able to coÌ„ceiue till you enter into that course wherâ— in the â—oy of loue is the second blessednesse of this life What shall I say but that I know not what to say to expresse the perfection of this pleasure that puts downe all idle imaginations from which hoping to see thee remoued when I next see thee Till then and â—uer I rest Thine as thou knowest B. D. A kinde Letter of a Creditor for mony SIâ— I pray you take it not vnkindly that I write thus earnestly vnto you for more necessitie then will hath vâ—ged me vnto it my mâ—ny is not much and you well able to discharge it the day of paiment is past and I haue great occasion to vse it my losses by sea and ill Creditors by land make me strain curtesse with my friends for their good helpe in an extremitie yet dâ—â— I desire nothing but my due but as I was readie to lend I would be glad to receiue with that fulnesse of good will that may continue our kindnesse I write not this as doubting your discretion but tâ— intreat your patience if your purse be not in tune for were I as I haue bene and hope to be I had rather beare â—oo long then asâ—â— too soone especially of so good a friend
as I haue alwaies found of your selfe Consider therefore of my case and in your kindnes answere me Time is pretious and therfore least by disapointment I be disfurnished and so perhaps discredited I pray you speedâ— your answere which howsoeuer shall be welcome and therfore â—arnestly intreating you to helpe me now that I may the better â—uil your kindnesse hereafter with many thankes for your great fauours which cannot be forgotten to be deserued I take my leaue further at this time to trouble you but will rest in what I shall be able euer to pleasure you to make you know how much I loue you Your louing friend at commaund T. R. The debters Answere SIr your request is so reasonable and your kindnes so much that for a greater matter then your demand if my purse were not in tune I would strain my credit very farre for you â—eare then with my a little forgetfuâ—â—es of my day and thinke it â—o trouble to my patience to be put in minde of my credit your sea losses I am sorâ—â— for and wish your recouery by land Debters that will not paâ—e make Credâ—â—ors they cannot lend but for my selfe to make you know how much interest you haue in my affection let me tell you that though by some inexpected expences I am short of my hoped reckoning yet vpon the receit of your Letter I haue bene thâ—s carefull for you your money I haue sent you and as much more for so long time I will lend you which you shall recâ—iâ—e of this bearer and in my Letter the day of paiment which if it may pleasure you so much as I wish you I am glad I had it for you howâ—oeuer it fall out vse it to your owne discretion and so far be alwaies assured of my loue that my word and deed shall be all one in your comfort And so leauing cerenâ—onâ—ous complements in vnfained good will I rest Alwaies to my vttermost power Yours as mine owne D. W. A Letter of Newes TO performe my promise in my last Letter my kinde and best Couzen you shall vnderstand of such occurrents as I heare goe currant for truth I heare there are certaine olde people that speake much of Prophecies where they set it downâ— for a certaine rule that this yeare and many to come he that wants mony in his purse and a friend in the Court may walke into the Country and picke strawes for his comfort for the lawe is verie daungerous for begging and Charitie is so cold that the poore must starue rather then the rich will want Old men shall neuer be young againe in this world and beautie in a young woman will not let her know her selfe Honestie without wit will die on the foole and craft without credit will labour to little purpose In summe there will be a great plague among the poore with lacke of mony among fooles for lacke of wit and knaues for lacke of honestie but it may be Nature may alter her course in many things and Prophecies may fall out in contrarieties Howsoeuer it be welcome that comes on Gods name and so hoping thou louest no legerdemaine nor wilâ—â—e led away with blind Prophecies writing this only for exercise of a merry humor I rest Thine what mine P. R. The Answere SUch idle Prophets as you méete with haue such kind of matter as you write of but let the world wagge as it list there is not a truer wagge in the worlde then thy selfe and were it not that I feare my Letter would come to light I would answer you in your kinde But to be short let me tell you that lawes are good to take order with such outlawes as after prodigalitie put themselues vpon Charitie And yet to crosse your rule of little experience old men may haue young humors faire wenches put wise men to their wittes and honestie may thriue with a mean trade when a craftie knaue may loose by his câ—â—â—ing broking As for the plague I feare me it is neuer from you for if neighbors agree yet their wiues may fall out and while the poore fret and the riche frowne there is little hope of health where the world is so out of quiet And therefore hoping that you haue wit inough to beware the knaue and the foole and to make your choise of best company wishing your continuance of your good humor with thankes for your waggish Letter I rest in our old league Yours as mine 〈◊〉 R. W. A Letter of perswading to marriage DEare Couzen I â—oo not a little wonder at your solitary life and more at your little care to match your selfe in marriage with some virgin worthy your loue wil you leaue the world without memorie of your name your inheritance to no issue of your owne honour and runne a course of too little comfortâ— Meâ—thinketh that your knowledge of the diuersitie of â—arietâ—â—s should settle your content vpon some especiall vertue what if some women be aged some are youthfull and some frâ—warâ— other may be kinde and some wanton there are better stayed and some sullains some are louing and is there nâ—nâ— can fit your humor God forbid the lawe of Nature the lawe of Reason the lawe of God doth wil it that loue breed encrease by a vertuous coniunâ—tion which cannot be performed without the honor of this course Bastards wil be witnesses of their parents wickednesse when natural children are the ioy of their Fathers and â— a true louing wife is worth a thousand wilde walkers her care in the house her kindnes at the Table and her comfort in the bed are pleasures better conceiued then expressed fall theÌ„ abâ—â—rd with such a Bird as you may hold for your Phoenix and thinke thy mind at best libertie when it is â—ree frâ—m the bandes of folly In â—ne let me intreat thée to make thy house a home thy wiâ—e thy worldes loue and thy children thine earths ioy which as I hope â—hou wilâ— be glad to haue I shall be glad to see For good spéede whereof in hartie praier I rest Thy louing Coâ—â—en R. W. His Answere MY kinde Couzen I sée you are better redde then experienced for Batchellers wiues and Maidens chiâ—â—ren are pretie things to plaie withall but he that knowes many daungers wil take héed of all A wife is an euerlasting substance which if it be not of the better nature is a perillous thing to meddle â—ithall for if it catch hold of the hands it may put the heart to a fore paine and the Phoenix is such a figure as if I must find hee in a woman I feare me I must séeke a great way for her For the lawes that you speake of I yéeld to truth but loue is so nice an humor that he â—lâ—ome settles in a place for Bastards I loue not the bréed and better children wil doo well when they come For bed and boord and those trickes let them ioy in them that haue them when I fâ—nd time I wil thinke