in the feare of the Lord for the guift of hir honestie is aboue gould A woman of fewe wordes is a guift of God and to a well nurtured Maide may nothing be comparde An honest and mannerly woman is a guift aboue other guifts and there is no weight to bee compard to a womans minde that can rule it selfe like as the cléere light vpon the holy Candlestickes so is the beautie of the face vpon an honest body like as the goulden pillers vpon the sockets of siluer so are the faire legs vpon a woman that hath a constant minde A faire Wyfe reioyseth her husband and a man loueth nothing better but if shee bee louing and vertuous withall then is not her husband like to other men He that hath gotten a vertuous woman hath a goodly possession she is vnto him a helpe and piller on whome he resteth where no hedge is there the goods are spoiled and where no Husband is there the friendlesse mourneth Dooest thou marke my Sonne these Sentences if thou hast so good a wife oh how hast thou sinned to wrong hir with Ielousie to taint thine honor and to blemish the credit of her chastitie If she bee wanton and wyll neuer wante one but sitteth downe as Syrach saith and openeth hir Quiuer to euery Arrowe then my Sonne shake her off abide not with such a woman least yee féele the force of the lawe but bee not iealous for that breedes thy fatall ruine and to her is no preiudice Oh Father quoth he these wordes as they pierce to the quicke so are they Balme vnto my distressed soule I feele a comfort in the sweetnesse of your counsaile and these principles are perswasâ—â—e arguments to race out my former folliâ—s I must of force confesse that I married her a Maid famoused through all Antwerpe for her vertue as shee was spoken of for her beautie And beeing married I found her obedient chaste modest and sâ—lent but her beautie bred the bane and was the meanes of all my misery For when I noted the excellencie of her feature and the rarenesse of her perfection and considered that euery mans eie aim'd at so faire an obiect that womens harts were of waxe ready to receiue euerie impression and saw how diuerse Marchants of the citie flockt to my house then the sting of Iealousie beganne to torment me and suspition brought mee into this melancholie humour I néed not paint out in particulars For Father thou hast described sufficiently my paâ—â—ions how I was passionate onely let this suffice I was iealous but whether with cause or nâ— there lies the question Were I satisfied in this I would say farewell to all fond Iealousie to ease thé◠of this martyrdome My sonne I will not onely reléeue them with counsaile but aid thee with the effect of my Art Thou hast bene absent a long while from thy wife and al men hold thee still for lunaticke I hauing some skill in Negromancie will change thy countenance into y e shape of a most beutiful yong man beeing thus metamorphosed thou shâ—lt go to thy wife and being now crossed with pouertiâ— liuiâ—g poore distrest in Cottage thou shalt proffer her golde and maintenance I tel thée my sonne thou shalt carry with thâ—e two great perswasions to make breâ—ch into a womans honestie which is beautie and wealth chiâ—flie where the partie is pinched with pennurie If shee yâ—elde vnto thâ—e shake her off as an inconstant Curtilan and then be more iealouse For what shouldst thou be suspitious of that which thou knowest If she withstand and had rather brooke honest pâ—uertie than violate her chastitiâ— Oh Alexander then sorrowe at thy follieâ— say â—hou hasâ— sin'd against so veâ—â—â—ous a wifâ— â—nd reconâ—ile thy selfe vnto hir and be not touched any more with iealousie for that is a hell to thée and no hurt to hir This counsaile did greatlie comfort Alexander that he not onely humblie thanked the ould man for his aduise but intreated him to prosecute the intent of his purpose which he presentlie did for by his arte he made him séeme a beautifull young man faire to the eye and well proportioned but in all forme farre from that which he was hauing store of Crownes in his pursse thus transformed away he trudgeth towards Antwerpe where in the suburâ—es hee heard of his wife how she was wrongd by his friends turned out of doores and liued there with a widow woman in a poore cottage hir fame was good and the report of her labours were great her honestie highly valued and her patience much commended which greatly comforted the thoughts of Alexander at last learninâ— out the house he went thether and comming in asked for Theodora who humblie rose and saluted him with such modest curtesâ—e as did importe a shâ—w of great vâ—rtue Alexander noting her bashfulnesse began to consider that if she plaide false she was cunning to coyne her countenance and he sought therefore to trie her thus FAyre Mistresse whom Fortune hath made as miserable as Nature had formed beautifull and whom the crosse aspect of the planâ—ts haue left as distrest as the Gods in their fauours haue made vertuous Know this that comming as a stranger to Antwerpe it was tould me by mine hoast as a wonder of the extremitie of your husbands iealousie and the excellencie of your patience his follies and your vertues his suspition and your constancie His report made me desirous to sée with mine eye what I heard with mine eare that I might confirme reporte with a fure witnesse Now sâ—eing you and noting your exteriour lineaments gracst with so manie inward perfections I praise Nature for hir workemanship accuse Fortune for her tyrannie and sorrowe that so beautifull a creature should bee bitten with such bitter crosses But necessitye is a sore penance and extremitye is as hard to beare as death yet Mistresse Theodora it is a colde comforte is wrapt in no remedie a greeuous vlcer that no Chirurgie can finde a salue for and a hard sorrow that no releefe can medicine Seeing therefore your husbands iealousie hath left you from friends and many cares seeke as you haue hetherto â—hockt Fortune with patience so to thwart mishap with a present remedie and thus it is Your beautie Mistresse Theodora is able to content any eye and your qualities to satisfie the most curious minde which as it doth amase me so it driues a pittiful compassion into my thoughts to lay any plot for your better estate Therefore may it please you to vouchsafe of such a friend as my self your want shall be releeued and your necessitie redressed I will take you from this cottage to a place more fit for your calling your rags shal be robes and your thin diet plenteous fare and to make vp all fortunate you shall haue such a friend at your commaund as no mishap any waye can diuert from your loue If you stand vpon the losse of your honour and the blemish of your fame to answer that
GREENES VISION Written at the instant of his death Conteyning a penitent passion for the folly of his Pen. Sero sed serio Imprinted at London for Thomas Newman and are to be sould at his shop in Fleetestreete in Saint Dunstons Churchyard To the right worshipfull and his especiall good friend M. Nicholas Sanders of Ewell Esquier T. Newman wisheth all felicitiâ— WERE I as able as I am willing Right Worshipfull to shewe my selfe thankful for your manie kindnesses extended vnto me some more accomplisht Dedication then this should haue offred it selfe to your iudiciall view at this instant It was one of the last workes of a wel known Author therefore I hope it will be more acceptable Manie haue published repentaunces vnder his name but none more vnfeigned then this being euerie word of his owne his own phrase his own method The experience of many vices brought forth this last vision of vertue I recommend it intirely to your worships euen ballancing censure None haue more insight then you into matters of wit All men of Art acknowledge you to bee an especiall Mecenas and supporter of learning in these her despised latter daies I am one that haue no interest in knowledge but the inseperate loue that I beare to them that professe it That attendant loue on good letters striues to honor you in whome Art is honoured I thinke not this pamphlet any way proportionable in woorth with your worshippes patronage but it is my desire to yeelde some encrease to your fame in anie thing that I shall imprint Thus wishing to your worshippe that felicitie and contentment which your owne best gouerned thoughtes doe aime at I most humblie take my leaue Your VVorships most bounden T. Newman To the Gentlemen Readers Health GEntlemen in a vision before my death I foresee that I am like to sustaine the shame of many follies of my youth when I am shrowded in my winding sheete O let not iniurious tongues triumph ouer a dead carcase Now I am sick and sorrow hath wholy seaâ—d on me vaine I haue beene let not other men shewe themselues vaine in reproching my vanitie I craue pardon of you all if I haue offended any of you with laciuious Pamphleâ—ing Many things I haue wrote to get money which I could otherwise wish to be supprest Pouertie is the father of innumerable infirmities in seeking to salue priuate wantes I haue made my selfe a publique laughing stock Hee that commeth in Print setteth himselfe vp as a common marke for euery one to shoote at I haue shotte at many abuses ouer sâ—oâ—â—e my selfe in describing of some where truth failed my inuention hath stood my friend God forgiue me all my misdeameanours now in the best lust of my yeares death I feare will depriue me of any further proceeding in securitie This booke hath many things which I would not haue written on my Tombe I write this last let it be my last will and testament Farewell if I liue you shall heare of me in deuinitie in the meane time accept the will for the deede and speake well of me when I am dead Yours dying Robert Greene. GREENES VISION After I was burdened with the penning of the Cobler of Canterbury I wared passing melancholy as grieuing that either I shold be wrong with enuy or wronged with suspition But wheÌ„ I entred into the consideratioÌ„ that slander spareth not Kinges I brookt it with the more patience thought that as the strongest gustes offend lesse the low shrubs than the tall Cedaâ—s 〈◊〉 the blemish of report would make a lesse scarre in a cottage than in a pallace yet I could not but conceit it hardly and so in a discontented humor I sat me down vpon my bed-side and began to cal to remembrance what fond and wanton lines had past my pen how I had bent my course to a wrong shore as beating my brains about such vanities as were little profitable â—owing my seâ—d in the sand and so reaping nothing but thornes and thistles As this I recounted ouer the follies that youth led me vnto I stept to my Standish that stâ—â—â— hard by and writ this Ode Greenes Ode of the vanitie of wanton writings THough Tytirus the Heards swaine Phillis loue-mate felt the paine That Cupid fiers in the eâ—e Till they loue or till they die Straigned ditties from his pipe VVith pleasant voyce and cunning stripâ—â— Telling in his song how faire Phillis eie-browes and hir haireâ— How hir face past all supposes For white Lillies for red Roses Though he sounded on the hils Such foâ—d passions as loue wils That all the Swaines that foulded by Flockt to heare his harmonie And vowed by Pan that Tytirus Did Poet-like his loues discusse That men might learne mickle good By the verdict of his mood Yet olde Menalcas ouer-ag'd That many winters there had wag'd Sitting by and hearing this Said their wordes were all amisse For quoth he such wanton laies Are not worthie to haue praiseâ— Iiggâ—s and ditties of fond loues Youth â—o mickle follie mooues And tould this old said saw to thee Which Coridon did learne to me Tis shame and sin for pregnant wits To spend their skill in wanton fits Martiall was a bonnie boy He writ loues griefe and loues ioy He tould what wanton lookes passes Twixt the Swaines and the lasses And mickle wonder did he write Of Womens loues and their spight But for the follies of his pen He was hated of most men For they could say t'was sin and shame For Schollers to endite such game Quaint was Ouid in his â—ime Chiefest Poet of his time What he could in wordes rehearse Ended in a pleasing verseâ— Apollo with his ay-greene baies Crownd his head to shew his praise And all the Muses did agree He should be theirs and none but he This Poet chaunted all of loue Of Cupids wings and Venus doueâ— Of faire Corima and her hew Of white and red and vaines blew How they loued and how they greed And how in fancy they did speed His Elegies were wanton all Telling of loues pleasings thrall And cause he would the Poet seeme That best of Venus lawes could deeme Strange precepts he did impart And writ three bookes of loues art There he taught how to woe What in loue men should doe How they might soonest winne Honest women vnto sinne Thus to tellen all the truth He infected Romes youth And with his bookes and verses brought That men in Rome nought els saught But how to tangle maid or wife With honors breach throgh wanton life The foolish sort did for his skill Praise the deepnesse of his quill And like to him said there was none Since died old Anacrâ—on But Romes Augustus worlds wonder Brookt not of this foolish blonder Nor likt he of this wanton verse That loues lawes did rehearse For well he saw and did espie Youth was sore impaird thereby And by experience he finds VVanton bookes infect the minds Which made him straight for reward Though the
it infamous for to be tainted with the blemish of fond fancy much more to pen down any precepts of affectioÌ„ if then Ethnik philosophers who knewe not God but by a naturall instinct of vertue sought so carefully to auoid such vanities only bent the sum of their wits to their countries profit theÌ„ how blamworthy are such as endeuour to shew their quicke capacities in such wanton woorkes as greatly preiudice the state of the commonwealth I grant ther is no weed so il but som wil gather no stone so crasd but some wil choose nor no book so fond but some wil fauor but Vox populi vox Dei the most the grauest wil account it vaine and scurrulous Therefore trust me Iohn Gowers opinion is thou hast applied thy wits ill hast sowed chaffe shalt reape no haruest But my maister Chaâ—cer brings in his workes for an instance that as his so thine shalbe famoused no it is not a promise to conclude vpon for men honor his mere for the antiquity of the verse the english prose than for any déepe loue to the matter for proofe marke how they weare out of vse Therfore let me tel thee thy books are baits that allure youth Syrens that sing sweetly and yet destroy with their notes faire flowers without smel and good phrases without any profite Without any profite quoth Chawcer and with that hee sâ—art vp with a frown no Gower I tell thée his labours as they be amorous so they be sententious and serue as well to suppresse vanity as they seem to import wantonnes Is there no meanes to cure sores but with Corasiues no helpe for vicers but sharpe implasters no salue against vice but sowr satyrâ—s Yes a pleasant vaine quips as niâ— the quicke as a graner inuecâ—â—ue and vnder a merry fable can Esope as wel tant folly as Hesiode correct manners in his Heroicks I tell thée this man hath ioyned pleasure with profite though his Bee hath a sting yet she makes sweet honny Hath he not discouered in his workes the follies of loue the sleights of fancy and lightnesse of youthâ— to be induced to such vanities and what more profit can there be to his countrey than manifest such open mischiefes as grew from the conceit of beauty deceit of women and all this hath he painted down in his pamphlets I grant quoth Gower the meaning is good but the method is bad for by aming at an inconuenience he bringeth in a mischiefe in séeking to sppresse fond loue the swéetnes of his discourse allures youth to loue like such as taking drink to cool their thirst feele the tast so pleasant that they drinke while they surfeit Ouid drewe not so many with his remedie of Loue from loue as his Ars Amandi bred amorous schollers nor hath Greenes Bookes weaned so many from vanity as they haue wedded from wantonnesse That is the reason quoth Chawcer that youth is more prone vnto euil than to good and with the Serpent sucke honny from the sweetest sirops and haue not Poets shadowed waightie precepts in slender Poems and in pleasant fancies vsed deepe perswations who bitte the Curtizans of his time and the follies of youth more than Horace and yet his Odes were wanton Who more inuaied against the manners of men than Martiall and yet his verse was lasciuious And had hee not better quoth Gower haue discouered his principles in some graue sort as Hesiode did or Pindaris than in such amorous wanton manner the lightnesse of the conceit cracks halfe the credite and the vanitie of the pen bréeds the lesse beleefe After Ouid had written his Art of Loue and set the youth on fire to imbrace fancy he could not reclaime them with Otâ—a si tollas periere cupidinis arcus The thoughts of young men are like Bauins which once set on fire will not out till they be ashes and therefore doe I infer that such Pamphlets doe rather preiudice than profite Tush quoth Chawcer all this is but a peremptorie selfe conceit in thine owne humour for I will shew thee for instance such sentences as may like the grauest please the wisest and instruct the youngest and wantonnest and they be these first of the disposition of women Sentences collected out of the Authours bookes Quid leuius bruto â—ulmen quid fulmine flamma Quid flamma mulier quid muhere nihil 1 BE not ouertaken with the beautie of women whose eies are fram'd by art to enamour and their hearts by nature to inchant 2 Women with their false teares know their due times and their sweete woordes pearce deeper than sharpe swordes 3 Womens faces are lures there beauties are baites their lookes nets their wordes charmes and all to bring men to ruine 4 A hard fauored woman that is renowmed for hir chastitie is more honorable than she that is famous for her beutie 5 She which houldeth in her eie most coynes hath oft in her heart most dishonesty 6 A woman may aptly bee compared to a Roase for as we cannot enioy the fragrant smell of the one without prickkles so wee cannot possesse the vertues of the other without some shrewish conditions 7 Though Women haue small force to ouercome men by reason yet haue they good fortune to vnder-mine men by policie 8 Womens paines are more pinching if they bee girded with a frumpe than if they be galled with a mischiefe 9 The ready way to fier a woman to desire is to crosse theÌ„ with disdaine 10 Some women haue their loues in their lookes which taken in with a gase is thrust out with a wincke 11 Womens eares are not theeir touchstones but their eies they see and make choyce and not heare and fancy 12 Women oft resemble in their loues the Apothecaries in their Art which choose the wéeds for their shops when they leaue the flowers in the field 13 Euerie looke that women lend is not loue nor euerie smile in their face is nâ—t a pricke in their bosome 14 Womens hearts are ful of hoales apt to receiue but not to reteine 15 The Clossets of womens thoughts are euer open the deapth of their heart hath a string that stretcheth to their tongues end 16 A woman is like Fortune standing vppon a Gloabe winged with the feathers of ficklenes 17 Womens heartes are the Exchequers where fancye yéelds vp hir accounts 18 Women be they chast be they curteous be they constant be they rich renowmed honestâ— wise yet haue they sufficient vanities to counteruaile thier vertues 19 Womens excellency is discouered in their constancie 20 As the glittering beames of the Sunne when it ariseth decketh the Heauens so the glittering beautie of a good wife adorneth the house How saiest thou Gower quoth Chawcer to these sentences are they not worthie graue eares and necessarye for young mindes is there no profit in these principles is there not flowers amongst weedes and sweete aphorismes hidden amongst effeminate amours Are not these worthie to eternize
hiâ— wife then for any other trade of Marchandize in so much that hee pind her vp in her Chamber and kept himselfe the Key not content with this sitting one day in a great dumpâ— he fell into this meditation Alexander Vandermast his iealious meditation with himselfe THou hast married thy selfe Alexander to a Woman and therefore to a thing light and inconstant whose heart is like to feathers blowne abroad with euery winde whose thoughts aime at euery new obiect thou mightst Vandermast haue foreséene this for thou hast red that Armins of Carthage being earnestly perswaded to marry answered I dare not for if I chance vpon one that is wise shee will be wilfull if wealthie then wanton if poore then peeâ—ish if beautifull then proude if deformed then loathsome and the least of these is able to kill a thousand men Why Alexander did thou not eschew this foreseeing this and knowing them to bee such euils why didst thou loade thy selfe with such a heauie burden oh howe art thou changed what motion hath madded thee with this conceit thou wert woont to say that they were Heauens wealth and earths miracles adorned with the singularitie of proportion to shrowd the excellencie of all perfection as farre excéeding men in vertues as they excell them in beauties resembling Angels in qualities as they are like to Godâ— in perfecâ—neâ—â—â—ing purer in minde then in moulde and yet made of the puritie of man iust they are as giuing loue hir due constant as houlding loyaltie more pretious then life as hardly to be drawne from vnited affection as the Salamanders from the Caâ—ernes of Etna Oh Alexander I would they were so then wert thou as happy as now thou art miserable but no doubt their hearts are made of Iet that draw vp fancie in a minute and let it slip in a moment and their thoughts so fickle that they couet to feede on euery new obiect they sâ—eke to marrie that the husband may couer their faults and like Atheists they count all pardoned that is doone with secrecie She riseth vp saith the Wise man and wipeth her mouth as though shee had made no offence No doubt there be such as thou dooest decipher but torment not thy selfe with Iealousie lâ—t not thy hart suspect what neither thy eye sées by proofe nor thine eares heere by reporte Theodora is vertuous and chaste honour dwels in hir thoughts and modestie in her eyes shee treades vpon the Tortuse and kéepes her house and strayes not abroad with euery wanton giglet She layes not out the tramels of hir hayre to allure mens lookes nor is she wanton in her eye lids she seekes not to companie with strangers nor takes delight in much prattle but as Susanna was to Ioachim and Lucretia to Collatine so is Theodora to Alexander She is like to the vertuous Woman which Salomon sets out in the Prouerbes who eates not her bread with idlenesse shee is vp earlie and late labouring gladlie with her hands she occupies Wooll and Flaxe layes hould vpon the Distaffe and puts hir fingers to the Spindle such a one Alexander is thy Theodora whome Antwarpe admires for hir vertues and thou maist loue for her perfection Such she seemes indeedâ— but women are subtillâ— shewing themselues to disdaine that which they most desire and vnder the maske of a pure life shadowe a thousand deceitfull vanitiesâ— She is faire and many eyes awaite vpon her beautie and women are weake creatures some women I see many Marchants flocke to my house and amongst them all perhaps she will like one tush for all her shew of constancie and vertuous perfection I will not trust her nor beléeue her for women are subtile to allure and slipperie to deceiue hauing their hearts made of waxe ready to receiue euery impression and with this he starte vp and wentâ— to looke if his wiues Chamber doore were safe locâ—t and so went about his businesse but so discontent in his thoughts as all the world might espie his gréefe by his passions Theodora saw all this and perceiued the folly of her husband and brookt it with great patience for that she knew her selfe free from al intended suspition coueting with her forcible effects of dâ—tie to race out the cankred rust of Iealousie that bred such secret and silent iarres betwixt her and her Alexander pind vp thus as a haâ—k in a mew to solace her she had recourse to her book aiming in all her Orizons for grace that her actions might be directed and the course of her life so leaueld that no blemish might taint the brightnes of her credit otherwhile for recreation she would take her Lute in her hand and sing this Ditie Theodoras Song SEcret alone and silent in my bed When follies of my youth doe touch my thought And reason tels me that all flesh is sinne And all is vaine that so by man is wrought Hearts sighes Eies teares With sorrow throb when in my mind I see All that man doth is foolish vanitie When pride presents the state of honors pompe And seekes to set aspiring mindes on fire When wanton Loue brings beauty for a bait To scortch the eie with ouer hot desire Hearts sighes Eies teares VVith sorrow throb when in my mind I see That pride and loue are extreame vanitie Oh Loue that ere I loued yet loue is chast My fancie likâ— none but my husbands face But when I thinke I loued none but him Nor would my thought giue any other gracâ— Harts sighes Eyes teares With sorrow throb when in my minde I see The purest loue is toucht with Iealousie Alas mine eye had neuer wanton lookes A modest blush did euer taint my Cheekes If then suspition with a faulse conceipt The ruine of my fame and honour seekes Harts sighes Eyes teares Must needs throb sorrows when my mind doth see Chaste thoughts are blamd with causelesse iealousie My husbands will was ere to me a lawe To please his fancie is my whole delight Then if he thinkes whatsoeuer I do is bad And with suspition chastitie requight Harts sighes Eyes teares Must needs throb sorrows when my minde dooth see Dutie and loue are quit with iealousie No deeper hell can fret a womans minde Then to be tainted with a false suspect Then if my constant thoughts be ouercrost When pratling fond can yeeld no true detect Harts sighes Eyes teares Must needs throb sorrows when my minde doth see Duty and loue are quit with iealousie Seeke I to please he thinkes I flatter then Obedience is a couer for my fault When thus he deemes I treade my shoo awrie And going right he still suspects I halt Harts sighes Eyes teares Must needs throb sorrows when my minde doth see Dutie and loue are quit with iealousie No salue I haue to cure this restlesse soare But sighes to God to change his iealious minde Then shall I praise him in applauding himns And when the want of this mistrust I finde Harts sighes Eyes teares Shall cease and Lord
haue their credit toucht with many tongues and haue this verse hung on their backe Spectatum veniunt veniunt spectentur vt ipsae Thus liuing poorely content and patiâ—nt in thy labours Antwerpe shall thinke it was thy husbands folly not thy vanity Thus Theodora satisfied her selfe with her own perswasion in the cottage shund the stormes that fortune inflicted vpon great mansions as she thus rested happy for that Foelix qui potuit contentus viuere parâ—o Alexander romed vp and downe still perplexed with his iealous passions and finding no ease in his conscience for iealousie is like the biting of Hidaspis which suffers a man to take no sleepe Lunatike he was and yet sundrie times he would hoth reasonablie meditate with himselfe and confer with others sorrowing at the fondnesse of his owne suspition but straight againe hee would with the Dog returne to his vomit and fall to his ould vayne of frenzie with generall exclamations against beautie yet so sententious that amongst the rest I remember some of his principles which seemed rather the censure of some ripe wit then the fruites of any Lunacie and they as I remember be these Alexanders sentences in his Lunacie against beautie 1 AH beautie is a vaine thing whose paintings are trickt vp with times coullers which being set to dry in the Sunne loose their brightnesse with the Sunne 2 Beautie is a Charme worse then Cyrces had amongst hir confections for it first inchaunteth the eye then bewitcheth the heart and at last brings both to vtter ruine when of it selfe it is but like the Flower Asautis that looseth couller with euery lowde winde 3 Beautie draweth many mens eyes to looke on so gorgeous an obiect and is oft the cause of manye dishonest actions 4 Beauty is delightsome and pleasant yet nothing more perilous and deadlie 5 The more beautie the more pride the more pride the more inconstancie 6 Beautie when it is not ioynde with vertue is like the fethers of a Phenix placst on the carkasse of a Crowe 7 Beautie is oft the fairest marke that leadeth to mishaps 8 Beautie is a couller dasht with euery breath a flower mixt with euery frost and a fauor that time age defaceth These sententioâ—s and satyricall inuectiues against beautie did he breath out in his madneâ—â—e which séemed hee was more melancholie then Lunatikeâ— well howsoeuer about he ran restlesse and passionate till on a day comming into a meadow he saw in a little houell made with boughes an aged man sitting houlding a serpent in his hand that with hir téeth still bit hir selfe and still the aged father smilde Alexander standing by and séeing this as mad as he was marueld at the matter and vpon a suddaine said Father what doost thou meane by that embleame The ould man turning his head and séeing Alexander was nothing abasht but replyed My Sonne quoth he I am viewing the Enugmaticall figure of Ielowsiâ— of Iealousie quoth Alexander as how marrie quoth he thus Thou seest this Serpent it is bred in the Cauernes of Sicillia brought from thence and giuen me by a marchant the name of it is a Limster marke how Nature hath made it full of splene and choller still intending to doo and restlesse to reuenge but so hath the cerious workman of all prouided that it can bite nor preiudice no creature but it selfe which disposition when I considered I compard it to a iealous mâ—n who being pinched with that passion hurteth none but himselfe and galled with suspition biteth with the Lemster his owne flesh for I tell thée my sonne whosoeuer is fired with iealousie or toucht with that hatefull passion of mistrust â—e fretteth inwardly taketh no rest consumes himself with inward gréefe hurting none but himselfe as conteyning all the miserie within himselfe Ah Alexander quoth he I know thée and sorrow that I soe thée thus fond to be brought into such dishonor by the suspition of a woman when beeing Iealous of hir thou wringest thy selfe at the heart when thou hurtst not her little finger if thou couldst conceit what it were and knewst the secret operation and inward preiudice thou wouldst shake it off as a toye worthlesse a man of such calling Antwerpe I tell thée pitties thée as they loue thee and wonders at thée as they note thy follies and are angrie â—t thee as thou perseuerest in so vains an humour and because thou shalt haue an insight by me into the â—ollie of thâ—â—e owne humor I will set thée downe the description of iealousie wherein as in a glasse thou maist perceiue thine owne madding passions The ould mans description of iealousie IElousie is a canckar that fretteth the quiet of the thoughts a moath that secretly consumeth the life of man a poyson spetially opposed against the perfection of loue The hart being once infected with iealousie the sléepes are broken dreames disquiet slumbers thoughts cares and sorrows the life woe and myserie that liuing he dies and liuing prolongs out his life in passions worse then death None looketh on his loue but suspition saies this is he that commeth to be contriuall of my fauours none knocks at his doore but starting vp he thinks them messengers None talkes but they whisper of affection if she frowne she hates him and loues others if she smile it is because she hath had successe in hir loues looke she frowardlye on any man she dissembles if she fauour him with a gratious eye then as a man tainted with a frenzie he cryes out that neither fier in the strawe nor loue in a womans lookes can be conceald Thus dooth he liue restlesse maketh loue that oft is swéet to be in taste as bitter as gall and consumes himselfe with secret torments How saist thou my sonne quoth the ould man haue I not hit thée in the right vaine and made a perfect description of thine owne patheticall humours Oh quoth Alexander and he sat him downe with teares in his eyes and sighes in such sort and so deepely straind as his heart was ready to burst Now Father and neuer before now doe I see into the depth of mine owne follies and perceiue how infortunately this Ielowse conceit hath led me but teach me how shall I shake of this fiend that so mortally haunts me by what meanâ—s shall I race out this passion that so paines me and haue the disquiet of my thoughts satisfied Oh my Sonne quoth the ould man thou art commaunded by the wise man not to be iealious ouer the wife of thy bosome least shee showe some shrewd point of wickednesse vppon thee for nothing more greeueth an honest woman nor draweth more aptly to some mortall resolution then to be suspected without cause And I tell thée my Sonne Antwerpe hath euer spoken well of thy wife whatsoeuer thou hast misconstred Thou hast then doone amisse in absenting thy selfe from her for thou art chargde not to departe from a good and discréet woman that is fallen vnto thée for thy portion
obiection first Antwerpe hath made hazard of your credit and though without cause yet they haue calde your name in question and infamie is such a déepe coloure that it will hardlie be raced out with obliuion to take you from such vipers as cease not to sting you with the enuie of their tongues I will carrie you from the reach of them all and the greatest wonder lastest but nine dayes nor will the talke of your departure continue any longer tearmes for the offence why it is loue and that shadowes wanton scapes what is doone closely is halfe pardoned and affections that are mainteyned with loyaitie are but slender faults let not feare of a little fame tie you still to such extremity Misery is a malady that ought to haue no respect of medecine and where necessitie dooth bréede a soare foolish is that patient if hee makes doubt to accept of any salue What Theodora your husband is Lunatick neuer to be hoped for nor had againe in his right wits then vouchsafe a friend who if no other maske will serue will shadowe all faultes with gould Theodora could scarce stay the bearing of such a long discourse knowing it was preiuditiall to a womans credit to listen to such prattle alluding to the French prouerbe Le ville que parle le femme qui S'esconte L'ane se gaigne l'aulâ—e S'effonte Wherevpon she puld her hand from his and with a modest blush made him answer I cannot deny sir but I haue found Fortune my foe yet to counteruaile her malice I haue had Patience my friend and what the world hath obieded with suspition I haue answered with innocency for my present misery as I brooke it with content so I hope to finde the heauens more fauourable and for my husbands follies I counte his present iealousie counteruailde with his former loues and hope that God will chaunge his opinions into better censures and make him conceit of me as fauourable as now hee thinkes hardlie In the meane time sir your aime is farre beyond the marke and your compasse directed by a wrong starre for though I be pinched with wante and toucht with that sting that forceth many to attempt vnlawfull actions yet had I rather sit with Cornelia and satisfie my hunger with handes labours then frolick it with Lamia and buy repentance with delicates no Sir thinke not that all the pouertie in the world can hale me from the thought of mine ould honour or any shower of misfortune driue me from the seate of vertue better liue in lowe content then in high infamie and more pretious is want with honestie then wealth with discredit Therefore sir I thanke you for your proffer but I am no traffike for such a chapman but reporte this wheresoeuer you come that I would scorne a crowne in respect of constancie and vould the participation of a kingdom light in value of my chastity I tell you sir though I be a woman yet the loue that I bear and the dutie that I owe to my husband howsoeuer he hath wrongd mee makes me so resolute that neyther extremitie shall diswade me from affecting him nor any proffer of riches perswade to fancie any other And wheras you obiect that my credit is already crasde in Antwerpe I denie not but I am suspected and of most wrongde with hard reproches yet carying a cleere conscience I haue this hope that seeing Temporis filia veritas Time and my good behauiour shall wipe out the blemish of such causelesse infamie and then shall I shew my self to mine owne honour and theyr discredit And whereas you say that Louers faults are slender offences I answer that there can be no greater staine to a woman then to be toucht with losse of her good name especially being confirmed and ratified by proofe for that being lost she hath no more whereon to boste and that made Lucretia let out a pure soule from a defiled body Then good Sir you knowe my minde my pouertie is my content mine honor my wealth and mine innocencie the onely thing that is left to quiet my conscience therefore as your Marte was little your market being doone the doore is open and you may go when you please Alexander hearing this was highly contented yet thought to giue one assault more and houlding hir fasâ— by the wrest returnde hir a replie thus Tush Mistresse Theodora women must be coye and séeme at the first to disdaine that which after they desire els might they be thought very light that would come at euery lure I haue béene a Huntsman and will not at the first default giue ouer the chace therefore aduise your selfe better take time when you will giue me an answer aske counsaile of your pillowe I can tell you gould is a goodly thing and there is not a warmer coatâ— then wealth what such faults are checkt with a smyle not controulde with a frowne and men smother vp Louers offences with fauour Be not peremptorie for in that you shall discouer rather folly then any aduised wisdome such as haue diseases and refuse remedie are worthie still to bide in the paine and they who are ouer the shooes in wante are worthie the Staffe and the Wallet if they will not any way reach at wealth Consider therefore with your selfe and to morrow this time I will come craue an answere Theodora hauing her face full of choller pluckt away her arme sate her downe to her Wheele and then reason'd thus roughly with him Sir neuer take any longer daies where the partie is vnwilling to set no further date nor giue any more attemptes where the Castle is impregnable Know your sute is in vain and your words breathed into the wind and to bee short take it as you please I hould your golde in scorne and your selfe vnlesse you were more honest in disdaine If you be so passionate that you must needs haue a Paramour go seeke suche Lettice where they grow for heere is none for your lips you shall not finde heere a Danae that will bee drawne in with a shower of golde but rather a Diana whome Venus and al her frownes could neuer affright Therefore take this for a finall answer if you come any more you shall find your welcome as bad as may be and for want of entertainment you shall doe your account at the doore and so Sir if you be a Gentleman be gone This cheared so the hart of Alexander that in that very momeÌ„t he left to be iealous conceiued such a new loue towards Theodora that hee could scarce abstaine from imbracing her but yet he bridled his affection seeing he could doe no good tooke his leaue verie courteouslie Hee was no sooner out of doore but Theodora rose and shut it Alexander subtilly stole vnder the window to heare what shee would say and according to his expectation hee heard her say thus to her Landes-Ladie Oh quoth she and she fetcht a déepe sigh How doth Fortune frowne and how is the
and went to Trinitie hostell and there saw I hir with these eies sitting vppon a Schollers knee eating of a pound of Cherries Well Husband quoth Kate and how came you home againe I marrie quoth he their lyes the question I know well of my going thether and of my being there but of my returne why I remember nothing No I think so poore man quoth she for all this day hast thou beene a sick man and full of broken slumbers and strange dreames I will tell thee Sonne this disease is a mad bloud that lies in thy head which is growne from iealousie take heede of it for if it should continue but six dayes it would make thee starke mad for it was nothing but an idle and a iealious fancie that made thée thinke thou wert at Cambridge and sawest thy wife there and was I not then out of my bed quoth he no God helpe you quoth the Mother Then wife quoth he and he wept I aske both God and thee forgiuenesse and make a vowe if God graunt me health neuer héereafter to suspect thée thou shalt go whether thou wilt and keepe what companie thou wilt for a iealious minde is a second hell Thus was Tomkins brought from his suspition and his wife and hee reconcilde WHat saist thou quoth Chawcer to this tale is there any offence to be taken is it not a good inuectiue against iealousie Sauf vostre grace quoth Iohn Gower sir Geffrey your tale is two scurrulous and not worthie to trouble my graue eare such fantasticall toyes be in the Cobler of Canterbury and that bred the booke such discredit call you this a method to put downe any particular vice or rather a meanes generally to set vp vanitie this is the sore that creepes into the minde of youth and leaues not fretting till it be an incurable vlcer this is the rust that eateth the hardest Stéele and cannot be rubd off with the purest Oyle Mens mindes are apt to follies and prone to all such idle fancies and such bookes are Spurres to pricke them forwarde in their wickednesse where they neede sharpe bits to bridle in their wanton affections cannot the Phisition salue a maladie without vnder a poysonâ—d and pleasant strope he hide a medicinable potion when the operation of the one shall doo more preiudice then the vertue of the other can worke profit Shall I in such sharpe hookes lay aluring baites shall I séeke to drawe men from dancing with a Taâ—er to perswade men to peace with weapons or exhort men to vertuous actions with tales of wanton affections no Greene marke Iohn Gower wel thou hast write no booke well but thy Nunquam â—era est and that is indifferent Linsey Wolsey to be borne and to be praised and no more the rest haue swéete phrases but sower follies good precepts tempered amongst idle matter Eeles amongst Scorpions and Pearles strowed amongst pibbles beléeue not Sir Geffrey Chawcer in this marke but his madde tale to put downe Iealowsie I will tell a tale to the same effect and yet I hope neither so light of conceipt nor so full of scurrilitie Iohn Gowers tale against Iealousie IN the citie of Antwerpe there dwelled a gentleman of good Parentage called Alexander Vandermast who beeing indued with Lands and liuings such as were able to maintaine an honest port thought not with the Cedar to die fruitles nor to end his name with his life and therefore to haue a priuate friende with whome to communicate his thoughtes and issue to maintaine the fame of his house he thought to wed him self to some good wife with whose beauty he might delight his eie with whose vertues hee might content his mind At last looking about hee sawe manie faire and well featured but they had faults that bred his mislike Some thought to amend Nature with Art and with Apothecaries drugges to refine that which God had made perfect Such artificiall paintings he likt not as being the instances of pride Some had their eies full of Amours casting their lookes with such alluring glaunces that their verie immodestie appeared in their eie-lids those hee held too forwarde to the fist Some had delight to heare themselues chat and had more talke in their tongues than witte in their heads those he counted for Gosseps and let them slip taking thus a narrow view of the maides of Antwerpe At last he spied one amongst the rest who was faire modest silent and generallie indued with all vertues as highly commended through all the Cittie for her chastitie as she was praised for her beautie Upon her did Alexander cast his eie and so fixe his heart that he began entirely to affect her knowing what a pretious iewell he should haue if he got so vertuous a wife For hee had read in Iesus Syrache that happie is that mâ—n that hath a vertuous wife for the number of his dayes shalbe double A vertuous woman dooth make a ioyfull man and whether he be riche or poore he may alwaies haue a merrie heart A woman that is silent of toung shamefast in countenance sober in behauiour and honâ—st in condition adorned with vertuous qualities correspondent is like a goodly pleasant Flower deckt with the coullers of all the Flowers in the Field which shall be giuen for a good portion to such a one as feareth God These sayings made Alexander an earnest sutor to Theodora for so was the Maides name and so followed his purposed intent that not onely he obteyned the good will of the Maide but the consent of her parents so that in short time there was a mariage not onely concluded but fully consumated These two agréed together louingly and in such loyaltie that all Antwerpe talked of the affection of the one and the obedience of the other and the loue of both liuing in this concord the deuill that grudged at the sinceritie of Iob greeued at the mutuall amitie of these two and sought to set them at oddes which he attempted with the perniâ—ious fier of Ielousie a plague that offereth déepest wrong to the holy estate of marriage and setteth such mortall variance as hardly by any meanes can be pacified Where married couples agree together it is a great happinesse and a thing very acceptable in the sight of God but as in musick are many distords before there can bee framed a true Diapasin so in wedlock are many farres before there be established a perfect friendship Falling out there may be and wordes may growe betweene such swéete friends but Amantium irae amoris redinte gratia est 〈◊〉 whâ—re Ielousie â—nterâ— by stelthâ— from thence he cannot be thrust out by forcâ— This pestilent humor entred into the minde of Alexanderi â— for séeing he had the fayrest wife in all Antwarpe that many Maâ—chants resorted to his house he found that women are weake vessels and conceited a Iealious opinion without â—â—use thinking such as came to enter parle with him for traffike come rather for the beautie of