thy kinde perswastons hoping thou will take no exceptions at my constructions intreating thee to belâ—ue of me no more then thou needest and to loue me as thou doest in the faith of that affection that holds thâ—â— beare to my loue I rest during life Thine obliged and diuoted W.B. A Letter of comfort to a sister in sorrow DEare sister I heard lately of your husbands departure for the Indies when with no little sorrow I considered your heauie case in which finding his wants to be grieuous and your friends colde in comfort I could not chuse without unkindnesse but remember these fewe lines of my loue unto you I knowe your state is weake how faire so euer you make your weather but the more is your patience worthy honour that can so nobly conceale your discontentments for my selfe I would I were able to doo you good but what I haue or can procure shall not faile to doo you pleasure but if your minde be too great to stoupe to be beholding what I am able to doo take a dutie in my brothers loue good sister therefore be of good cheare and put your care upon me I will soe you often and loue you euer for a creature of your worthinesse is seldome found in your sere that for her husbands loue will aduenture the state of her liuing your children are not many but such as are shall be mine and you to me as myselfe take therefore as litle thought and as much comfort as you can no doubt but God that trieth his seruants will blesse them hope then of my brothers happie returne and fill he come commaund me shortly God willing you shall see mee in the meane time let me entreat you kindly to accept this little token of my greater loue which is but an assurance of a beginning of my affections neuer ending in which predicament of true friendship I rest euer assured Your very louing sister E.W. Her answere SWéete sister I haue receiued your kinde Letter and louing token for both which I am your thankefull debtor but toâ—ching which husband though his wants were grieuoâ—s yet to want him is my greatest sorrewe for in the stay of his loue was the state of my liuing I am sorie that you know my weakenesse and with it but in strength to â—unswere your kindnesse but good sister though I am willing to conceale my crosses to be beholding to so honourable a spirit I count iâ— not the least of my happinesse Therefore though I haue diuâ—ted my selfe to solitarinesse in his absence your company shall bee to me as light in darknesse and noâ—ing the nature of your kindnesse will euer be beholding to your loue come then to me when you will and commaund me what you will for I will be as goe and you will my children are my worlds ioyes and my hearts Iewels in whose faces I will behold their father in whose loue I will spend my life so in a merrie goe sorrie grieuing for his abâ—ence and wishing your presence praying for his happie returne your health and mine owne patience that in too much passion of affection I fall not upon indiscretion with most heartie thankfull loue I commend my life to your commaundement Yours affectionately bound E.G. A Letter of loue to a faire Mistresse Farre Mistresse to trouble you with a long circumstance â— might perhaps feare you with the losse of time and to make an end ere I begin might argue little care in my conceit but to auoyd both suspitions let me a little entreat with your patience to peruse in a fewe words the summe of a long tale in which the truth of loue to the latest houre of death protesteth the ioy of â—iâ— life but in the fruite of your fauour of which the thought of his unworthinesse toth too much shewe his unhappinesse Time makes me too briefe but in your wisedome is my hope of understanding that in my tryall you may trust me and by desert esteem me in which if I deceiue your expectation let me die in the misery of your disdaine Thus not to flatter you with a faire â—â—le in the state of your worthie commendation beseeching to be commaunded by the kinde care of your discretion in the handes of avowed seriuce I humbly rest Yours alwaies assured R.O. The Answere SIr as I would be loth so be thought proud I would as vâ—willingly be found idle either to beleeue too well of my selfe or not to haue a respect of other Truthe is sildome marked with smoothe words and loue is not bredde but upon great contentment your lyking may be greater then my desert and so alter vpon a better consideration but mistake not your happinesse in my fauours unworthinesse where the best of my commaundement may be the least of your contentment Your consideration of time may excuse my shortnesse of writing where in a word you may understand that in deed I intend that Truthe in honourable in loue and vertue the fairest ioy in affection in which it I not misconstrue your conceâ—â— I will answere the care of your kindnesse in which according to the due of desert you shall finde the effects of your desire And so for this time I rest Your poore friend A.T. A Letter of counsaile from a kinde Father MY deare sonne you must not from your father looke for a flattering loue noâ— take it unkindly that I suspect your â—ll courses for I haue passed the dangereus tune y â— you now are in and haue hardly goâ—e through the briers and therfore in a iealous feare from an inward care I cannot â—hâ—se but giue you wâ—rning of what may preâ—â—dice your good Beautie is a bewitching obied and â—antoâ—nes is the ruine of wit prodigality quickly makes a poore man and he is only rich that liues contented But my good sonne aboue all things serue God and keep a cleane conscience passe not the limits of allegeance nor build Castles in the aire take hâ—â—d of extremities for they are out of the course of discretion and the fruite of Ignorance yeelds but the sorrow of repentance young men may be wittie but â—â—ldome wise and sometime though â—rt be a great perfecter of Experience yet obseruation is better then conceited â—unning â—rpence is necessary upon occasion and hope is not amissâ— upon desert but Reason sometime is more regarded then rewarded where â—ill is too powerfull to be resisted I heare that you are much giuen to Alchâ—mistry it is a studie of great charge to many and profiteth â—ewe yet I forbid you no good labour so that you loose not by the bargaine â—â—e therefore a care in the imployment of your time and wherein my helps may further your good seeke no other friend for your comfort For though I would not wish you to disdaâ—ne any kindnesse yet would I haue you as litle as you may to be beholding to any man for the prodigall are commonly talkatiue and the couctous negatiue and what a griefe it is to want
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
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
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
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