carry longer to plaie our game but neuer too late to goe to an ill Bargaine for now we doe but talke our purses take no hurt but when the terme comes that wee maie ioyne issue in our cases I fear the kings head in fishâ—treet wil â—â—nd vs twâ— good clients but all is well that endes well excepte it were bad in the beginning as I think be this my letter for beeing troubled with I not tell you what leaste it shoulde make you thinke I care not what I haue written what you may read and doe as you see cause either to replie vpon imperfection or let it rest with a noâ— plus and so not doubting you to bee your selfe and to put mee in the number of your second selfe I rest to your selfe as my selfe One alwaies yours H. W. A replie to the last letter IF you were as wise as I could wish you I could take a little paines to write vnto you and yet for that you vnderstand your self I care not if I trouble you with a little idlenes In the parish of Sainâ— Asse at the sign of the hobby horse maid Marian and the foole fell together by the Eares with the Piper so y â— had not the good maÌ„ of y â— pewter candlestick set in for the Moris daunce the Maiegame had beene quite spoyled but when the game had gone rounde and the braynes were well warmed the legges grew so nimble that their heels went higher then their heades but in al this cold sweat while luâ—â—iguts and his best beloued were casting sheepe eies at a Cods-head hue and crie came thorough the streete that the foxe had killed a tame goose at the sodaine noyse where of the multitude were so skarde that all the moris Dauncers were deuided the foole ranne home to your town but because we haue some misse of him in our parish I pray you keep him not too long with you and so for lack of better present occurrents content your selfe with such newes as the time affoordes you heâ—reafter you maie haue better til when and alwaies I rest as you know Yours T. R. An Answere IF you were not more then half mad you wold not haue dauÌ„ced such a trenchmor with your little wits but yet since I ghesse it is about the full of moone I will hope shortly of your amendment in the meanâ— time let me aduise you to take patience with your vnderstanding to direct you in a better cours for when you waked out of your dreame you sawe no bodie but the man that you thought was tunne to our towne and hee was putting you on a coat of 4 elboes for Maid-marian she I thinke is troubled with you in her cream pot but for the hobby horse alas he hath forgot your turn and therefore you should do wel to make your repaire to our market I think it will be a Saints daie when if a naughty bird doe not crosse the Nightingale you shall heare some strange musique about our Medowe plot at the least you shall heare the old song that you were wonte to like well of song by the black browes with the cherry cheeks vnder the side of the pied Cowe come liue with mee be my loue you knowe the rest and so I rest Thine what mine N. R. An other Replie O Braue Oliuer leaue me not behind yow yow plaie y e Marchant al the week and make al whole vpon the holy daie you would be angry if you could tell how yet hauing y â— cards in your hand you cannot chuse but turn vp nâ—â—dy but the matter 〈…〉 great the tailer that sitted my Coate hath made â—ou many a â—â—cket where if it were not for displeasing of Iack an Apes â— could make him fall â—ut with his workeman for acquainting you with his inuention but let this passe and to a better purpose my neighboure and youre good friende hath a welcome in store for you and his eldest daughter would make you both a husband and a brother her wortâ— you know and his wealth wil doe no hurt I should bee glad of your good fortune and you I think should playe wel at be you pleased and so much for the coniuncâ—ioâ— câ—pulatiue newe for newes I bear none of late but that the Bailiffe of our hundreth hath had a mischaunce his wife taking a blowâ— that neuer smarted he hath a paine in his head that cannot be cured for hauing no other plaâ—ster but patience is resolued to make good cheere with his friends and finding him self alone is content to make merry with good felowes this is all for this time and so in hast I end Yours N. B. An Answere WHen wits goe a wool gathering the thred of it may bee fine if it bee well spunne I see you haue little to doe that haue so much leisure to play your leripups if I coulde meet you right I would fit you a penny worth but though I cannot pay you your due I will not die in your debt though I plaie at Noddy I will not take the carde out of your handâ— for I know not how you can spare him but leauing gamsters to their Tricks Iack an apes to his monkie let me tell you that for your neighbour you are so neer him that I need not tâ— trouble him and â—or his wâ—lth and her worth you know wel enough what to doe with them for my selfe I loue not to shake haÌ„ds w t your constable in the coÌ„pany of kind felowship but yet not wronging an honest wench I wil wish her better fortune then my Afflâ—ction and so commending thy selfe I will assist thee with my good praiers that the Bailiffe of the huÌ„dreth may find thee oâ—e among a thousand I meane to shake handes but not heads with and so in sâ—me little occasion of sodain busines I will heere conclude for this time and alwaies rest Thine R. M To my Honourable good Lord my Lord Morafi RIght honorable to expresse vnto your good Lordship the huÌ„ble dutie of my affection I cannot better do it then by this Bearer whom for many good parts fitting your honoures pleasure I can wel commend to your fauorable entertainmeÌ„t for as such maisters are like black Swans so such seruaÌ„ts are choys creaturs for a little matter of small moment wil hoyse vp folly aboue the clouds while wisedome runnes a course of a more careful teÌ„per such I hope shal I find your seruaÌ„t whose wit conscience take such counsaile in all his actions that the iudgments of good experience hold him worthy good account for my self least I may be partial I willeaue his prayse to your prooâ—e and in hope of your contentment onelie intreat your entertainment shortly I hope to see you till when perswaded that his seruice shall gaine him more praise then my penne I will leaue his qualities to your triall and his seruice to your fauour and so in infragible loue rest during life Yours assured in true affection
of sinne but with the crueltie of fortune the vnkindnesse of friends and the breach of my credit and most of all with them whom I most loue Oh God my heart aketh and blame it not and my spirit mourneth and reprooue it not for though patience bee a vertue that maketh men diuine yet there is but one Christ men are no Angels and let me tell thee true the miserie of my life is intolerable in the sense of nature for compare the afflictions of the most patient with the causes of my passions and prouide a world of pittie to behold the mappe of my miseries hath one man beene wealthie becom poore so am I hath another suffered wrong so doe I another buried his parents children deare friendes so haue I another trauailed farre in hope of gaine and return with losse so haue I another been wounded in the wars fared hard laine in a cold bed manie a bitter storme and been at manie a hard banquet all these haue I another imprisoned so haue I another long beene sicke so haue I another plagued with an vnquiet wife so am I another indebted to his hearts griefe and faine would paie and cannot so am I another in loue so am I another out of loue with himselfe so am I in summe when anie of these crosses are able to kill the heart of a kind spirit and all these lie at once so heauie vpon mine hart as nothing but the hand of God can remoue besides my continual toile for the reward of vnquietnesse while that which should be my comfort is my corrosiue imagine how with all this I can liue and think what a death it is thus to liue Oh the scorn of the proud the abuse of the vngratious the scoff of the foolish and the scanning of the vnkind the companie of the discontentiue and the want of the most affected the disgrace of learning the losse of time and the miserie of want If there be a Hell on the earth it cannot be farre from this caue of my discomforte where I am sure the diuel seeing my desire to serue God laieth all the barres he can in the waie of my best comfort but I deâ—â—â— him and hope in Christ that my liuing and louing God who hath tried my soule in aduersities wil one day in his mercie so look vpon me that the diuel shall be driuen back from his purpose and the tears of my sorrow wipt away I shall reioyce in such a ioy as all my griefes cleane forgotten my hart and soule shall in the ioy of all my sense in the heauenlie harmonie of a holy himne sing a new song of praise to the glorie of my Sauiour for the hastening whereof in my deliuerance from my torments and comforts in his mercies I will frame my dailie prayers and bee assured of thy Amen but I feare I am too tedious and therefore wil thus end God continue my patience but not my sorrowes giue me deliuerance from my miseries and make me thankful for his blessings blesse thee with as much happines as thou knowst I want so leauing my hopes to his mercies and vs both to his tuition I rest with as little rest as I think any man can rest Thine or not mine owne N.R. To his faire Mistresse and heartes honour Mistresse A. T. LAdie I haue been so ill a scholar to loue that I neuer yet learned the courting of beautie neither would I willingly vse Act to abuse vertue and therefore if plaine truth may haue grace I will vse no Atturneie in this case which being to be iudged in your kindnes I will onely craue audience and stand to your arbitrement my case being mine owne lawyer thus I plead your eies haue stolne my hearte now I must either be accessarie to mine own hurte or accuse you of the fellonie but rather willing to loose my heart in your eyes then keepe them to looke on other light I wil onelie appeale to your selfe what to doe in this passion If I loue you must know it for your eies haue my hearte and if I loose my hearte you must haue it for your eies are wel worthie of it but now you haue it preserue it for your seruice let it not die in displeasure that hath no life but in your loue of it could speak it would tell you how dearlie highlie and onelie it honours you and if you will beleeue it you shal quicklie find it for it is dedicated to your seruice and hath no care but of your fauoure keepe it then to your vse vse it to your pleasure and let it dye in other comfort In summe not to dwel â—pon ceremonies it is nothing mine but al yours and if it maie liue in your eyes it seekes no other heauen in this world driue it not then froÌ„ you that hath no life but in you and take it wholly to you that is as nothing without you so leauing it with my selfe to the honour of your onelie seruice I take my leaue for this time but will rest euer Yours â—â—â—wed and deuoted R. S. To his very good friend Master R. B. at his house in Coll. SYr I knowe you loue no long letters and my sute being tâ— most men so vnpleasing I would be loath to be tedious I haue purchased a peece of land and laied out al my mony now vpon the sodain an vnexpected occasioÌ„ puts me to an extraordinarie charge for the furnishing wherof I am constrained to try my good frinds among which presuming of your kind promise vpon any vrgent occasion to stand me in steed I am to intreat you by this bearer to helpe me to forty pounds wherein you shall so much pleasure me as so much maie doe and as I can requiâ—e it I will not forget it I would haue it for sixe months my daie I will not breake I will take it kindelie and deserue it thankfully my seruant is trusty and therefore I praie you send it by him and as you will bee assured of mâ— loue feede mee not with delays nor excuse for I knowe you haue it and you know I will paâ—e it Thus loath to vse you like a broker to send you a pawne as an honest neighbour let me be beholding to your kindnesse in which you shal giue me cause in the like or a greater matter to rest vpon at as short a warning Your assured friend to vse R. H. To the Right worshipfull my very good master Syr Thomas VVard Knight at his house in Padow SYr after mine humble duty I haue talked witâ— diuers of those parties to whoÌ„ you directed me touching y e benefit to be made of the sate which you haue in hand whose opinions I fiâ—de diuers yet all agreeing in this that if you can procure it irreuocable the mony will be aduentured otherwise they are loth to engage their states and credits too far vpoÌ„ bare hopes for liues are vncertaine and in the change of times diuerse things fall
shall I say who vp-holdes the state of a Citty or the honour of a state vnder the King but the Merchant who beautifieth a Court with Iewels and outward ornaments but the trauaile of the merchant who be autifies the Gardens with sundry sorts of fruites and flowers but the trauailing merchant he may well bee called the merchant the Sea-singer or the maker of the Sea to sing the Sea-singer when hee hath faire winde and good weather and maketh the Sea to sing when shee sees the goodlie houses that floate vpon her waues and cast anchor in her Sands But let me leaue the Sea and come to the land consider of the sweet and ciuill manâ—er of their liues whose houses more neat whose wiues more modest whose apparrell more comely whose diet more daintie whose cariage more commendable valiant without quarrels merry without madnesse bountifull in their gifts and coy in all their banquets whose children are better nurtured whose seruants better gouerned whose house better stuffed and maintained Furthermore what comforte haue the distressed found beyond the Seas and howe many poore doe they relieue at home what Colledges what Hospitals what almes houses haue they builded and in effect what Citties haue they enlarged and what Countries haue they enritched how fewe Lawyers can say so if that be al true which much more might be said in their honor giue them their right say the Merchant is a royall fellow and goe forwardes with your intent if you will euer haue your sonne see any thing know any thing doe any thing or bee worth any thing put him to a Merchant and giue with him such a portion as out of his yeeres may set vp his trade or trafficke doubte not hee will doe well and think not he can almost do better so beseeching God to bles him in al his courses without which wil be worse then nothing I pray you doe as I wish you charge him to serue God and so turne him to the world and thus hauing truely written you my opinion touching your purpose wishing health and honour and all happinesse to all worthy true Merchants in hope of your health I commit you to the Almighty London this twentieth of August 1604. Your very louing cosen N. B. A Letter of Loue to a most sweet and wise creature SWeet were that spirit that by the instinct of loue doth vnderstand the silence of truth whose tongue is his hearte and whose worâ—es are sighes in which are hidden those secret fruites of comfort that onely growe in the grounde of your grace Uouchsafe therefore fair sweete with the sunne-bright eyes of youre beauty to cast one looke vpon the rude Lynes of this poore Letter which if it haue beene so vnhappye as to moue your displeasure let the fire bee the reward of his presumption but if through the fauor of the faults or the vertue of your gratious pittie it hath beene worthy the reading let mee be metamorphosed to worse then nothing if I desire to be any other thing then that may pleese you in all ceremonies and circumstances or in affection and therefore leauing my seruice to your commaund and my loue to the life of your fauour wishing to die like the Phenix to receiue in the beames of your beautie I rest full of vnrest til I may fullie rest Yours as you may of you will R. E. The Ladies answere WIse were that hearte which could pierce into the conceit of that spirite which with the art of loue seeketh to inchaunt the trust of simplicity which for not suspecting of euill-falls vpon the point of much miserie Oh poor truth how art thou made a vaile or couer for decet when vnder the shadow of paradise is sought the waie to hell Oh cursed trees that carry such fruite but not to wrong any creature Happy may that hearte liue which in faith onely seekes his felicitie and pardoned be that paper that doth but his dutye Let then all sighs be drowned in the deepth of obliuion while Silence vnderstandeth that Vertue speaketh Nowe for the nest of the Phenix if you can clime so high carrie awaie neuer a feather with you then it is but a fiction or vertue vnhappie but to waite the issue of honors hope to the blisse of vertues fauour I rest when I further vnderstand you as I thinke good to answere you and till then and alwaies rest Yours as falls as I well may A.B. A replie to the aunswere VNworthie were that minde of the thought of loue which could giue place to the treason of betraying of trust and more then miserable were that life that towards hell could make such a passage Oh Angel-like creature thinke not the world the habitation onely of the accursed nor do wrong to loue in suspition of truth You saie happie be that life that seeks happinesse in faithfulnesse but what doe you say to loue A simple conceit cannot descend into suspition and the thought of deceite is hatefull to loue Bee not then incredulous where loue is vertuous and for the fiction of the Phenix make the substance true in your selfe whose least thougte of fauour shall be worth all the feathers of the fairest bird that flieth So reposing hopes comfort on the honoure of your kindnes beseâ—ching you to vnderstand nothing of mee more then all yours I reste in that onely rest euer to rest Yours onely and all E. A. An Answere to the same VNhappie be that soule which in suspicion of truth should wrong the vertue of loue and blessed bee that heart which in hate of treason makes faith his felicitie Silence is a language that conceit is onely acquainted with and gentle is that warre which giues no deadly wound feare not then the paine that a breath will blow awaie when the hope of comfort wil cure the disease but what need more figures flie the waie to hell and finde the way to heauen Let thy heart goe with thy tong and the Eccho wil giue a happy sound Till when not doubting the diuine nature of loue to be free from the diuelish poison of deceit I rest as I find reason Yours in aâ—fection though not assuring M. I To his deerest fairest and worthiest of loue honour and seruice Mistris E. T. IF I should commend you aboue the Moone and compare you with the Sunne you would put me in the cloudes for a flatterer but knowing your owne worth and finding the substance of my truth you cannot blame in admiration to speake truth of your perfection which of what power it is in drawing the seruice of reason if you would beleeue loue would quicklie tell you but the course of inconstancie in the vnwise breedeth distrust of truth in the most faithfull but all birds are not of one feather nor all men of one mind In briefe not to make a long haruest of a little torne which being ripe woulde be gathered in good time let truth be my spokes-man and beleefe my comfort the hope whereof as
my onely worldes happines referring onely to the care of your kindnes in the faith of true affection I rest Yours auowed and assured R. N. A letter to a friend to borrow a piece of mony SIr as nothing more trieth a friend then calamitie so is there nothing more grieuous then to bee beholding In kindnes therefore if I maye become your debtor for fiue pounds it is not much yet will it pleasure me more then a little your appointed day I will not breake with you and wherein I may thankfully require you you shall find no forgetfulnes of your kindnes but time is precious and therefore entreating your speedie answere in hope of no deniall I rest Your assured friend to command T. W. The Aunswere I Would be as glad to pleasure you as any man but truth cannot be blamed for more then for my necessary vse that I cannot spate I am not presently furnished I praye you therefore take not a deniall vnkindly for iâ— my credit will pleasure you I will not faile my best to doe you good if otherwise you would vrge mee it will â—â—e to little purpose and therefore sory that I am not in tune to satisfie your expectation I must leaue patience to your kind discretion which as you know me shall commaund me for I am and will bee to the vttermost of my power You re assured friend D. S. To my best beloued Cosen mistrisse H.C. at her house in pe Chest. MY good Cousen I remember at my last being with you wee had some conference aboute consideration beleeue me when I consider the worlde and what I haue seene in it and the best things of it and that all if it effect is as nothing or rather worse if any thinge at all I wonder howe men who haue so much iudgement of good froÌ„ euill will shewe so little vnderstanding of good in following of euil how can those meÌ„ that know the in certaine time of death liue as though they thought neuer to die hâ—we can hee that readeth or heareth the word of god and beleeueth the truth of it bee so carelesse of it and so disobedient to it will men bee sicke that may bee whole â—or dye that may liue what shall I say but as Paule saide to the Corinthians O yee foolish people who hath bewitched yee it is the worde of God that transgression is as the sinne of witch-crafte and surely if men were not bewitched with sinne they could not so delight in wickednesse being the crosse and barre to all their happines coulde the theefe consider the doome of the lawe or the miserie of the dispoyled surely hee would not steale if the adulterer did consider the filthines of his action and the shame of his folly surelye hee would turne honest if the murtherer did consider the horror of death and the terror of sinne hee woulde neuer kill In briefe if any sinner woulde looke into the foule nature of sinne hee woulde bee out of loue with it and if â—ee did consider the power of Gods wrath hee woulde bee afraide of it Nay could or would man consider the goodnes of God towards him in commaunding and forbidding nothing but that which is good for him howe could hee bee so forgetfull of his owne good in offending the Author of all goodnesse If the vnthrifâ— coulde consider the misery of wanâ— sure he would not be carelesse of his estaâ—e if the couetous coulde consider the misery of the poor he would be more charitable if the Swaggerer could consider the comelines of sobriety and the shame of immodesty surely hee would be more ciuill If the magistrate did consider the misery of the poore he woulde not be so careles of their torment put them to such sorrow but remember that iustice without mercie is to neere a tuch of Tiraâ—ny If the offendant did consider the griefe and shame of punishment he would containe himselfe within the compasse of a better course If â—ee that preacheth the worde and followeth it not could consider the heauinesse of Gods iudgemente and the shame of his folly hee woulde doubtlesse bee more carefull of his soul and more kinde to his flock If the lawyer could consider the lawe of god hee would neuer grieue his clyent nor speake against a knowne truth but as I saide before to leaue tediousnesse it is the onely lack of consideration that maketh the heedlesse will of man to runne the waye of error to the ruine of his beste comforte and therefore entreat you notwithstanding my allowance of your iudgement touching the heauenly prouidence and power in the motion of al good actions yet so to allow of my opinion touching consideration that it is a great and one of the greatest causes of the confusion of reason by the corruption of nature and knowing that the care of your consideration is such as doth and may wel giue example to the most expert to follow the rules of your directions in the whole course of your life wishing my selfe so happie as to enioy the company of so good a friend till I see you and euer I rest in fast setled affection Your very louing friend N. V. To my sweet loue mistris E. P. SWeet Loue if absence could breed forgetfulnesse then fortune should doe much harme to affection but when the eye of the mind looketh into the ioye of the hearte the sentence may well be spoken As in silence you may heare me so in absence you may see me for loue is not an hours humour nor a shadowe of light but it is a light of the spirit and a continuing passion thinke not therfore I do or can forget thee or loue my sefe but for thee shortly I hope to see thee and in the meane time though not with thee yet not from thee nor well at rest with my selfe til I may reste only with thee I rest alwaies to rest Thine onely and all â— VV. Her Aunswere MY deare if delayes were not a death to loue excuse were currant in the construction of kingdomes but sentences are better spoken then vnderstood and a pleasing presence is better then an excused absence remembrance is good but possession better and loue holdeth memorie but a kind of melancholie Let your selfe therefore be your messenger rather of your loue then your letters least fortune in a mad fit be a crosse to your best comforte not in respect of my constancy but my parents vnkindnesse This is all I will write at this time but wishing a happie time to the beginning of a neuer ending I rest til that time and at all times on the same Yours as you know E. P. An old mans letter to a young widdow VVIddow I haue neither a smooth face nor a filed tongue to cheate your eies nor abuse your eares withall but a true hearte and a constant minde that doth inwardly loue you and will nâ—uer deceiue you fickle heads and vnbrideled wills know not wher nor how to bestow themselues when their
wits goe a woolgathering among shrewes that haue bad â—â—eâ—ces they may be kind but not constant and loue loues no out-lookers besides light heads haue no staied heeles and a little wealth soone spent who knoweth the woe of want can tell you the difference betwixt an old mans darling and a young mans warling Why how can they loue that scarce know how to like I know you haue manie suters of worth but none that I thinke worthy for none can loue you so much nor esteeme you so well for I haue knowne the world and care not for it nor for any thing but you If therefore all I haue may please you and my selfe to loue and honour you make my comfort your contentment and I will seeke no other paradise in this world Thus hoping that reason in your fauour wil effect the hope of my affection leauing to your selfe to be youre selfe I rest Yours or not his owne T.P. SIr if I could euer see yoâ— but in a Letter I should delight much in your presence but contraries are not correspondeÌ„t a grâ—y bâ—ad and a greene minde fit not your perswasions were forcible were not your selfe of too much weaknesse but though for your good will I thank you yet for nothing will I be indebted to you not for a world would I be troubled with you for as your yeeres so I feare our fancies will be different and then patience mouing choller may breed discontentment when to be an old mans dâ—rling is a kind of curse to nature you say wel who can loue that knowes not howe to like and the seâ—ces vncapable of their comfort what is imagination but a dreame a blind man can iudge no colours a deafe man hath no skill in musique a dumb man no eloquence and an old man little feeling in loues passionâ— for my sutors they sute my time and serue their owne and for their worth I shal iudge of the most worthy nowe for their wittes if they lose not their own fleeces let them gather wool where they can but for your loue I will not venture on it least beeing too old it be not sweet and for my youÌ„g sutors I hope I shal take heed of shadowed sourenesse and for fortune while vertue gouernes affection I will not feare my felicitie so hoping your own reason wil perswade you to haue patience with your passion and leaue mee to my better comfort meaning to be as you wish me my selfe none other I rest Not yours if mine owne P. M. A letter of a young man to his sweet heart MY loue if I could haue as good passage as my Letters I would bee a better messenger of my thoughts then my words can expresse but as the secret of my hearte is sealed vp in my letter so is the secret of my loue sealed vp in my heart which none can see but your eies nor shal knowe but your kindnesse Let me not then languish in the lingring hope of my desires but hasten my comforte in the onely answere of your content you know the houre of the first meeeting of our fantasies the true continuance of our irremoueable affections and why will you not appoint the conclusion of our comforte Triall cannot let you doubte my loue and loue will bee sworn for the securitie of my truth both which thus far plead for me in your fauour giue truth the reward of triall and loue the regard of truth and desire not the sentence of iustice to let me liue or die in your iudgemente for imprisoned I am in youre beauty bound in 〈◊〉 â—ands of your seruice and liue but in the hope of your fauour in which I rest euer and only to rest happie in this world Yours though not yours R. E. An answere to this letter MY sweet I rather wishe your self theÌ„ your letter though in the hast of your desire your presence had bene to little purpose for deeds are in a good way that are subscribed and sealed but till the deliuery be made the matter is not fully finished haue therfore patience for a time for it is soon enough that is wel enough and yet I confesse in kindnes delaie is little comfort yet stay for a faire day though it be almost at noon be perswaded of my affection and let faith feare no fortune for loue can be no changeling and so imagine of my selfe when you offend I will punish you and when you â—oe please I wil praâ—se you so assuring truth beliefe and loue comfort I rest so soon as I wel may to giue the reason of your best rest and till then and â—uer wil rest Yours as I may M. I. A merry letter of newes to a friend RIght Troiâ—â— I know thou louest no complement nor carest for anie trickes but as a good fellowe and a friende wouldeâ—t heaâ—e how the world goeth with al the world I am not acquainted with and therefore I know not what to say to it but for the little part of it the pettie place or parish where I dwel and some few miles aboute it I will tel you there is a fall of Connies for there is such a world of them euery day in the market that except they be youÌ„g and fat there is little mony bidden for them â—ackenie Iades are â—â—arce worth theire meat and euerie house hath such a dog that not a begger â—are come neere a door and not a mouse at a cheese but a catte is at her heeles Maide-marion of late was got with child in her sleep and the Hobby-horse was halfe mad that the fool should be the father of it a great talke there is of setting vp of a newe â—auerne but Tobacco is the thing that will vent the old sack there is spoken so much gibbâ—ng that wee haue almoste forgot our mother tongue for euery boy in our schoole hath latine at his fingâ—s ends marrie t is in a book for all his wit is in his copie for in capite he hath little our free school is nâ—w painted with wisdome ouer the gate for within excepte some vnhappie wag there is no more wit then is necessarie uowe for other newes I will tel you wet weather frights vs with a hard harâ—est and vsurers are halfe mad for lack of vâ—terance of theire monie Lawe was neuer more in vse nor men more out of monie for woemen they are strange creatures for some of them haue three faces and so fine in proud paces that if they carry it as they doe they wil put manie men out of countenance for other ordinarie matters they are as you lefte them a pot of ale to worth a pennie a Bawd will haue braue cloathes the man in the moone is aboue the cloudes and the knaue of Clubbes will stil make one in the stocke other things there are that I am shortly to acquaint you with in the meane time write vnto me how thou doest and how the minde blows on your side and so sorrie I haue no good
thee and the last I wil prouide for thee til when wishing thee once out of thy solemne Celi and to take my house for thy better comfort till I see thee and alwaies I rest Thâ—â—e in all mine owne D.R. An answere to the same HOw easilie the healthfull can giue counsel to the sicke how hardly they can take it I woulde I were not in case to proue but I see patience need not bee perswaded for where paine is â—hee will be entertained I know there is no reâ—â—sting of Gods power nor muttering against it but yet think that flesh and blood in many things hath much adoe to bear it though fortune be a fiction yet it troubleth many fine wits and the triall of patience puts the best spirits to a hard point neuer to haue had is little woe to want but to loese hopeles of recouerie wil sting the heart of a good mind a sorrow is sooner taken then put off death is comfortable to the afflicted fooles cannot take thought knaues will not but y e honest carefull vnderstand the plague of misery if death be this waie ordained me I cannot auoid it if hell come vnlooked for I shal be glad of it but I am too weak too rude too full of grief to go but if you will take the pains to make me trie the coÌ„fort of your company my cell shall haue some â—â—ome to entertain a friende for such a need knowing your loue can account no lesse I pray you therefore without further ceremonies let mee see you very shortly if I liue you shal knowe my kindnes if I dye you shall find my loue so drawing towards a feuers fit I am forced thus to conclude in the spight of fortune in the grace of god I wil digest what I can praie for patience for the rest so hoping speedilie to see you till then and alwaies I rest In sicknes and in health thine vvhat mine R.H. An yonger brother to his elder falne vnhappilie on a little wealth and suddenly growne fondly proud GOod brother as I am glad to heare of your health so am I sorrie to heare of your ill cariage it is tolde me by them that I can beleeue y t your wealth which should make you gracious makes you in a manner odious Why it is wonderful that you can so suddenly metamorphose your mind froÌ„ wit to folly it grieueth me to hearâ— your description of almost as maâ—y as know you it is saide you looke ouer the moone walk as vpon stilts speak as it were for charitie and with a swelling conceite of your wealth make your face like one of the foure windes in your apparrell you are womannish your Ruffes set so in print your bearde so starched and your countenaÌ„ce so set that you are rather meet for a prologue before a Comedy then to giue example of ciuilitie formalitie is a kinde of follie when hee that walkes vpright like a Rabbot is like a Boye that should saie grace they saie you are seldome without a flower in your mouth I would it were fitlie perfumed to the desert of your follie you weare your cloak alwaies abroad that one may see your silken outside and your garters beneath your knee are ready to weep for a rose all these notes are taken of you and with all that to mainetain this pride you are as couetous as the deuill for as I here you are both an Usurer and a Broker and haue more cunning tricks in your trade then an honest heart coulde awaie withall truly this is not wel for your estate needs it not your education doth teach it let me therefore intreat you to turn a new leafe sing a newe song be curteous but not couetous kind but not proude and haue a conscience in all your courses for there must be an ende of all your matters and repentance wil be the best paiment of your ill taken accounts beleeue it for you shall finde it at last I wish not too late and so out of the sincere loue of a true hart that holdes you as deere as his own life rather desirous to tel you what I find amisse in you then to sooth you in what I finde grieuous in you to his grace that maye amend you with my praier for you I leaue you your true louing brother R. B. To a faire proud Tâ—t FAire Mistresse why should you turne that to a curse which was giuen you for a blessing I meane your beautie which should haue made you gracious but hath filled you so full of pride that you marre your colour with an ill countenance and when you speak you counterfaite such a kind of lisping that you cannot bring out a wise word your bodies are made so straight and your Fardingale so great that in steed of a woman you make an Antick of your selfe I am plaine but tell you troath I think you are best in your quoiting coat for your tricking and your tyring takes awaie all your proportion so that the Painter and the Tasler haue put nature out of countenance but since it is the fashion for fools to weare a cockes-combe let them weare feathers that list I will not blow them awaie but as a good friend let mee tell you that tel you but for your good be honest and be hangd'e and let knauery goe to the diuel stand unt leering in your door nor deuise lies to make fooles nor vse tricks to pick pockets for in the end all will bee naught for the poxe or the gallowes or the diuel will be the reward of plaine leacherie if in the waie you scape beggery and therefore follow my counsaile giue ouer betimes before it giue ouer you and since I haue turned my coate turn your olde gowne and we will ioie together to goe both in a liuery for say the word and I am for thee and so til I hear from thee I commend me to thee Thine if thou vvilt D.H. Her Answere YOu wicked villaine haste thou plaide the Iewe so long that thou art weary of thy selfe and now comest to mee for a companion soft snatch your tricke is an Ace out and of all the cardes I loue not a knaue my beautie is not for bleere eyes nor shall pretended honestie cheat my follie hast thou had three occupatioÌ„s and none thriue a Pedler a Parasite and a Pander and now wouldest bee a Cony-catcher Syr I haue no game for your ferit and therfore hunt further Now for my leers and my lookes and my tricks and my toyes if they fitte not your humour I am not for you but for the pore and the gallows and the diuell and the ale house keep you from them and I will keepe mee from you and if I thoughte I mighte trust thee I could put thee into fooles paradice but if thou art not afraid of sparrow blasting come home and take a birdes-nest which if it be better then a woodcock thank the heauens for thy good