THE ACADEMY OF Complements.

VVherin Ladyes Gentlewomen, Schollers, and Strangers may ac­commodate their Courtly Practice with most Curious Ceremonies, Comple­mentall, Amorous, High expressions, and formes of speaking, or writing.

A Worke perused and most exactly perfected by the Author with Ad­ditions of witty Amorous Poems.

And a TABLE expounding the hard ENGLISH words.

LONDON, Printed by T. Badger, for H. Mosley, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Princes Armes, in S. Pauls Church-Yard. 1640.

To the Ladyes and GENTLEVVOMEN of ENGLAND.

I [...] Custome did not enforce a Comple­ment of Dedicati­on; yet this Booke would de­sire to insinuat into the affecti­on of Ladyes and Gentle­women; since it can arive at [Page] no greater perfection of hap­pinesse than your favour, which it most earnestly de­sires. Let other workes co­vet their Patrons and Mae­cenasses, to derive from them a golden sprinkling of their bounty; whilst this shall ex­presse an ingenuity beyond such vulgarintents, and in a brave and free manner sa­crifice it selfe to your accep­tance and service; desiring only that you would grace it [Page] with the influence of your propitious smiles, which cary in them a secret power, not only to cherish and advance the object whereon they re­flect, but also to endeare it in­to others opinions, and make it precious in their estimati­ons. Jn requitall of this your favour, it shall bee alwayes ready to furnish you with the best expressions of choise com­plementall language, for though by nature and custom, [Page] you can deliver your minds in a smooth and gracefull manner; yet from hence, without study, or praemedita­tion, you may command ne­cessary Ceremonies. Besides, your Ladyshippe's Chamber­maids and waiting-Gentle­women are to be pitied; who having by their good cariage compassed Suters, are often constrained to blush, in igno­rance, for want of Comple­ments, wherewith to answer [Page] them. Let therefore this one instance, instead of more which might be inserted, per­swade your intelligible, gene­rous dispositions to receive this Booke once more as your devoted servant, and to ho­nour it with your favour; which I shall esteeme as an exaltation to the supremest sublunary felicity, and the highest terrestriall happines.

THE AVTHORS PREFACE TO the READER.

THere is no question but eloquence is a principall part in a well qualified man, for to see a subtle and a quicke wit foiled in this which is the onely quality that is eminent and adornes a man as usefull in all occasions, it were to be in ex­treames, [Page] another Prometheus, who made a statue faire in appearance, but without motion; which could not be animated without Celestiall fire: it is eloquence which adornes our discourse, gives a grace and life to our acti­ons, opens us the gates and dores to the best company, and puts us in such esteeme as well borne spi­rits ought to arrive to; without this we resemble walking rocks, all our actions being dull and heavie, our words without effect, our conceits without fruits, and our lives disgusted with those, with whom wee ordinarily asso­ciate our selves: to this purpose [Page] in this little volume feast thy fan­cie with variety of most eloquent expressions and formes of delive­ring thy minde to all, from the King to persons of the most infe­rior ranke or qualitie, for in this second edition, Let me tell thee that thou hast a Cabinet wherein the richest Iewels of our Lan­guage are lockt up, first thou hast choise and select complements set thee down in a forme which up­on an occasion offered thou may­est imitate or with a little altera­tion make use of, thou hast in the next place variety of subjects with expressions to the height of eloquence penn'd to quicken thy [Page] mind upon the like objects pre­sented to thy view or fancy, thou hast witty disputes, amorous dis­courses, with an addition of most excellent Love Poems, comple­mentall and most sweetly har­monious fitted to the tastes of Cupids guests, Thou hast exqui­site Letters, such as containe the Quintessence of that sweetnesse our English tongue affords us at this day as it is now refined, then thou hast dedications, superscrip­tion fitted to thy owne desires for thy use upon any sudden oc­casion, Lastly thou hast a table of the hard English words with their expositions, in summe both [Page] eloquence and love with their secrets and mysteries are made naked and manifestly revealed to the weakest Iudgement; all these benefits are heaped upon thee by one who is zealous for the ho­nour of our Language, by one who bewailes those weake essayes that have beene made by others to this purpose, and with griefe viewed the former hasty and sur­reptitious edition of this booke, which now is purged and perfit­ed to the booke-sellers own con­tent: read it therefore with dis­cretion and deliberative conside­ration, and endeavour to attaine to the quality of such worth that [Page] thou mayst learne from it to cure thy dumbenes, to discourse con­fidently with thy friends, and as­suredly to tender thy wit and ser­vice to those thou shalt have oc­casion to acknowledge, especial­ly in the Court, where neatenesse and curiosities of all sorts, and principally of speech is to a silla­ble exactly studied: I will resolve thee good Reader but a doubt or two and detaine thee no longer from thy pleasure; first thou seest not the name of the Author, if thou knewest the gravity of his person thou mightst well have him excused, next for thy country objection that down-right deal­ing [Page] is best, I answer thou mayest somtimes be too plain in the way of thy preferment; if thou namest the word dissimulation, thou er­rest, the whole heaven: this work relishes in respect of the subject more of curtesie, unlesse thou abuse it by craft: accept it then as every way beneficiall to thee, and take my wish with thee, that thou maist injoy as much pleasure in the perusing of it, as I had to pen it. Adieu.

YOURS Philomusus.

THE ACADEMY of Complements. OR, PEARLES OF ELOQƲENCE.

SIr, Your conceptions are so strong, that they transcend my ordinary imaginations.

Sir, You honour me, as if you did erect me a thousand Statues.

Sir, You are above Fortune, which must stoope to your honours.

[Page 2] Sir, Your deserts draw admiration from your very enemies.

Sir, I shall ever as really as at this houre, remaine your creature.

You honour mee so farre, that I imagine my selfe to be some other thing, then I have beene.

I doe repute my selfe happy, to be valued by a person, who is able to give a true esti­mate of me.

Sir, Your judgement doth amaze vulgar wits, since in you alone all those perfections are found, can be sought for on earth.

Lady, Your forme doth so ravish behol­ders, that you seeme a heavenly creature in a mortall carcasse.

Blemish not your mind with such detest­able qualities least the staines of voluptuous­nesse doe besmeare the excellencies of your proportion.

Sir, If you proceed to be so profuse of your treasures, mines of gold will not main­taine your prodigall expences.

Good Sir give me leave to feare least some sinister stormes of fortune stiffe the ear­ly bloomings of my felicities.

Sir, The toyish conceits of your youth [Page 3] [...]re unfit for the testie cogitations of my age.

Sir, There is a confused Chaos of contrary [...]onceits that wherles in my braines, and I [...]m lost in such an endlesse Labyrinth that [...]either choice nor chance can draw mee [...]ut of.

Give mee leave Sir, to gaine that from your experience, that otherwise all the trea­sures of the earth cannot purchase.

Sir, Should you continue to be thus ex­ [...]essive in your actions, the whole world would take notice of you, as the mirror of an [...]mmoderate life.

Bee not so inconstant in your affections, [...]east in the conclusion you prove like the Marigold, to open at the sunne-shine of pro­sperity, and to shut at the least appearance of the clouds of adversity.

Leave mee Sir, whilst I learne to despise such Gnathoes and to shake off such flatte­ring curres with the flagge of my defiance.

Theseus faire one did never more triumph at his deliverance from the perillous Laby­rinth then I from the pernitious bondage of such cruell beauty.

Fortune and fate place thee in the Pa­laces [Page 4] of their earthly felicities.

So rarely accomplisht that it was hard to know whether vertue or beauty held supre­macy in so rare a structure.

Sir, being incensed by your singular com­mendations, I am perswaded to her only to commit the chiefest treasures of my life and fortunes.

Pardon my rudenesse faire creature, since neither love nor fortune delighteth nor ca­reth for them that are dastards.

Madam, You are the Saint to whose shrine I daily offer up my scalding sighs.

For your Beauty mistresse I may name you Venus, for your comelinesse Pallas, for your port and honour Juno.

If I want an Apology faire creature, Let love and necessity plead for me since they are tyed within no bounds.

Madam you are an object beautified with the richest gifts of nature, polisht with more then terrene perfections.

Tis you alone faire one that have made a breach into the Bull-warke of my breast, where like a gorgeous goddesse you com­mand all my powers.

Feare not Sir, Love and fortune favours those that are bold.

[Page 5] Sir, To grant you this one position is to admit of innumerable absurdities.

Madam, It is the perfection of your ex­quisite person, Majesticke features, and rare beauty that kindles my desires.

Mistris, Deceive mee not, least while I [...]hinke to imbrace you for Juno, I catch a cloud.

Madam, Take heed of using Cupid so [...]rabidly, for though he forgive and forget, Venus is a woman and will seeke revenge.

Sir, It is impossible that her heavenly beauty should be eclipsed with cruelty.

Madam, Though I have fought never so valiantly under the flagge of affections, yet except you crowne my indeavours with a voluntary yeelding I can never prevaile.

Mistris, If you take mee for franticke blame love, which as it comes from you as the cause so it consumes without reason.

Who can degenerate, fairest of women, or dare to entertaine base thoughts, when he views so glorious an object?

Sir, I am desirous to be suspitious of those felicities, I feare, I shall not long enjoy.

I am out of love with my selfe, that I may admire your vertues.

[Page 6]The charmes of Magicians are frivolous to me, in respect of the power of your pre­sence.

I cannot looke upon your face, but I am perswaded to resigne my selfe up to you, as a wreath of victory.

That which blacks the Moores, and burns Libya, hath not so powerfull a lustre, as the beames of your beauty.

Halfe the Court is engaged to your ex­pressions, and those whom you besiege with your language, must needs acknowledge you for victorious.

Mistris, Your breath is as sweet, as if you fed only on Pinkes and perfumes.

Sir, I cannot degenerate so farre from mine owne happinesse, as to forget you, to whose desires alone the events of all things are sutable.

Let me beg of you to take notice of those advantages are bestowed upon you, above the rest of men.

Sir, If in your imagination, I am worthy to be esteemed of, it must be by your wisdom only, which can set a value upon my defects.

Sir, Your favour is the foundation of all my fortunes.

[Page 7] Sir, It is your presence only can dissipate the clouds of my blackest melancholy.

Sir, In the midst of all my felicities, I shall have need of you to make mee happie; for without you, I shall ever esteem my selfe absolutely miserable.

Sir, I will rather put my reputation to the adventure, then refuse to act any thing you shall command me.

Sir, I have ever reflected on you, as on an extraordinary person, and have ever passio­nately remained yours.

Sir, I am so taken with you, that I am even sicke at the relation of your indisposi­tion.

Sir, I shall not be backward in the expres­sion of your merits, since they doe so exact an acknowledgement of all.

Sir, You shall never be able to accuse this Tenent as erronious, since I have never fal­sified my selfe to you, but have ever thought my selfe perfectly happy, to bee reputed yours.

Be carefull faire one, least being lead cap­tive by security your mind float in the surg­ing Seas of idle conceits, whilst the puffe of voluptuous pleasures and the stifling [Page 8] stormes of unbridled fancy with raging blasts make a shipwrack of your beauty.

Sir, I will endeavour hereafter to incoun­ter your graces courtesies with an unweari­ed constancy in the wayes of vertue.

Sir, I shall indeavour to countervail such paines with a princely Liberality.

Sir, The trumpet of your royall fame hath moved us who are but subjects of your ge­nerous liberality with all humilitie to en­tertaine such noble and heroicke favours cast upon us poore creatures most unworthy of such benefits.

Madam, There is no object can allure my wavering eyes as your Venus-like beauty.

Madam, The force of your beauty hath over-powered the weaknesse of my fancie since the exquisite perfections of your ver­tues are characterd in my brest.

Madam, Were you as wise as Minerva or as gorgeous as Iuno, yet the accounts of your beauty being cast up, the gaines of his affection might be put in the eyes of your Lover.

Coy one what happinesse insued the cha­stity of Penelope, nay rather what miseries pursued not the vertues of a Lucretia? how [Page 9] wretched are they then that deale with Ʋe­nus or Diana, since love is a fatall care, hate a finall calamity?

Blame me not faire one, though my fixed fancies once abused turne to a fury.

By those smiles of your beauty your crea­ture that before was plunged in a perplexi­tie, is now placed in the height of earthly fe­licities.

Mistris, Pardon my rudenesse for trou­bling thus rashly your musing meditations.

Certainely Madam, if the gods as Poets say, made beauty, they skipt beyond their skill, since they framed it of greater force then they themselves were able to resist.

Faire one, let the showers of your mercy mitigate the fires of my fancy.

Cruell one, if love be onely remedied by love, if fancy by mutuall affection, give me leave at least to appeale to your grace and fa­vour, and at the barre of your beauty suffer your servant to lift up his hands in an expe­ctation of mercy, though his life by your ri­gor be sentenced to death.

Fairest it is impossibility to perswade me to breake that league I made with my fancies.

[Page 10] Sir, I am a mortall foe to affection, and now to vow my service to Venus is unpos­sible, since I have already addicted my selfe to Diana.

Sir, Whosoever readeth the records of the faithlesse protestations of men, their perjur'd promises and fained loves, cannot but view a poore Ariadne abused, a Medea mockt, and a Dido deceived.

Faire one, your beauty and vertue either by fate or fortune is too deepely shrined in my heart.

Be pleased at last faire beauty, to accept me for your slave and servant, and to admit me into your favour, as that I may freely in­joy the sight of your sweet face, and feed my fancy in the contemplation of your perfe­ctions.

Fairest, if my deepe desires merit no bet­ter deserts, then have I no other choise but to dye desperately or to live miserably.

Madam, There is a civill assault within me, by which I feele a certaine restraint of my owne liberty and affections.

It is impossible fairest of women, for any one to view your features, and not to be set­terd with the power of your vertuous qua­lities.

[Page 11] Mistris, I feele such an alienation of my sences, such a metamorphosis of my minde; that it is unpossible for mee to become any other then a servile slave to fancy.

How can I feare to enter a Parly with Cupids fairest creature, since there is such hopes left of victory by the happy presage of your auspicious smiles at the beginning of our loves conflict?

Sir, If I may continue to share in your favours, there shall not any under the Ca­nopie of Heaven bee more proud of their good fortunes then my selfe, who really am your most affectionate servant.

Sir, It is for the good of the world that you enjoy your vigorous health, since you are ordained for the service of Kings, and the conduct of people.

Sir, I will reserve to speake of vertue, till your great workes come to light.

Sir, That which others call vertue, is the naturall habitude of your worthy person.

Suppose not I use the Court language, when I assure you I am more than any man living, Sir, Your most humble servant,

Sir, When I forget to confesse my selfe yours, you may justly suppose I suffer a per­petuall [Page 12] silence, since whilst I have a tongue, I protest my selfe to be your affectionate ser­vant.

Sir, I will make use of all occasions, to testifie how passionately I am yours.

Sir, There is no other thing remaining for me, save the onely glory of humilitie and obedience.

I should shew my selfe insensible of rari­ties were I not amazed, with the curiosity of your beauty.

Sir, Your heroicall qualities shine forth in you, as bright as day.

Madam, They that doe undervalue the comelinesse of your person, dare rob Nature, and bereave Lilies of their beauty, or the Crystall of his clearnesse.

Sir, The vertues of our forefathers are to be esteemed as vices in comparison of yours.

Extremities are in other things reprove­able, in this laudable, since they force mee to confesse my selfe yours.

Sir, You are never so excellent a Poet, as when you speake of me, since you have Art to invent new Fables.

Sir, Those fine words, and quaint dis­courses, with which your Ladies are de­lighted, [Page 13] issue from their mouthes, as a pure and innocent breath perfumed with kisses.

Sir, You goe through all imployments with as good fortune as noble resolutions; neither can there bee any thing above your spirit, since all things stoope to doe you ho­nour.

Who can distill sleep into the eyes of lo­vers, whose cares break forth with the mor­ning light?

Love, Art thou but a vaine name and no essentiall thing, that hast thus left thy pro­fessed servant when he hath most need of thy reviving presence?

Reason, What art thou which canst fore­see, but not prevent torment, but not suc­cour; stupifie much rather than rectifie my mind and soule?

What is musicke to mee, but a dolefull voyce accompanied with the various dis­cord of my sighs?

O Love, Wilt thou now at last offer me physicke which art my only poyson, or wilt thou doe me service, which long since hast brought me into eternall slavery?

How long shall my languishing sicknesse wait upon the triumphs of my passions?

[Page 14]At last ô faire one, cast the eyes of thy re­splendent presence on thy abject creature, that by the brightnes of those rayes his base­nesse may be turned into a most high, and through thy affections, a most happy pre­ferment, for being thus disconsolate by the frownes of thy rigor; how soon maist thou rase downe that temple which at first was built by the refulgent smiles of thy beauty?

From whence can these necessities pro­ceed, that love hath laid upon me; most in­comparable? Lady, are they by your com­mandment,, or is it by a power from your excellency, that Cupid hath such a command over mortals; of a certaine it is from you, whose faire aspect accompanied with so im­perious a majestie, vanquisheth me by him so far to resigne the happinesse of my former liberty, as that I must now confesse my selfe to be your slave, if you thinke me unworthy of the name of your prisoner.

Cruell one, how long can I make an osten­tation of my felicity, when the conclusion even the last scene of my Tragedy with hor­ror presents it selfe to thine eyes? can death and dissimulation meet at that instant, when I leave the world, and my dying protestati­ons [Page 15] with thee, that for thee alone I forsooke this earth; to bee more kindly used there where I shall certainly be eased of these sor­rowes? if there be a Leander, a Pyramus, or a society of abused Lovers.

If thou art faire, is it to present thee cru­ell? If thou canst command affections, wilt thou therefore Captivate them? to be beau­tifull, and yet terrible, are things incompe­tible, things that implie contradiction, yet even against the Lawes of nature, thou de­stroyest nature, and where thou mayest raise thee structures to thy perpetuall honours, thou ruin'st them.

Most certaine it is faire creature, thy love may make me to sacrifice my life at thy feet, and I may punish that body, which could so unjustly wound my once free and serene mind: but alas wherein canst thou glory? not in thy beauty, for that will vaile it selfe at so blacke an Act; not in my ruines, for they will pursue thee with some direfull re­venge: blush then thou faire one, since to be coy is to be cruell, to be cruell, is to alter the property of what thou yet art, beau­tifull.

Fairest, bee no longer so great an enemy [Page 16] to my desires as to imprison them in silence.

I cannot expresse the least disobedience to your commands, but rather hope my past displeasures may deserve pity, if not my fu­ture services a reward.

Ponder my merits in the balance of your mercie, that the unworthinesse of my de­serts by the fair sufferance of your goodnesse may procure your gracious respects in my behalfe.

It is a sinne to suspect such vertue which glories to arme it selfe against all deceits.

Faire one, you have a wit which delights not to judge it selfe, and a beauty that glo­ries to condemne others; reconcile your beauty to your wit, that the use of the one may restraine the abuse of the other, whilest we your servants live to admire your perfe­ctions, and you your selfe survive to perfit your vertues.

Faire one, what unremoveable suiter ec­clipses your affection from shining on your devoted and most constant servant?

Perfection of my desires, with one deter­minate answer blesse me with happinesse, or silence my long continued suit.

That my desires to injoy you are more [Page 17] then to live, proceeds from the effects of my affection, the efficient cause being your ex­cessive beauty.

Madam, The eyes of a ravished Lover cannot but have vertues aid so ready in him­selfe as alwayes to bewaile the losse of a ver­tuous constancy in others, since such a losse by his owne affections is ever placed in the very face of his memory.

By the memory of our forepast affe­ction, by the oathes of our yet continued love, by whatsoever is vertuous credit mee.

Can you Sir weare a Marses heart in a Cupids body, since the eyes of all spectators judge you fitter for the pleasures of the Court then the tents of war?

In him it seemes Nature was not mista­ken, since whatsoever was in mankind, was in him to the uttermost.

Sir, It is a degree above humanity and therefore requires the admiration of your friends that your wit should so far out-goe your age.

It is not strange ô thou cruelst of wo­men, that those eyes of thine should strike him with terrour, who stands unmoved [Page 18] with the sight of the most horrible counte­nances of Death.

Sir, I am most infinitely bound to you for this so rare and noble a curtesie.

It is you, and none but you which I am bound to love, and therefore though I am presented with a likenes of your beauty, yet likenesse of another, cannot make the same essence of your person, much lesse can dis­solve your commandements of my service.

The very image of your countenance and outward expressions of your behaviour are sutable to the vertuous resolutions of your mind.

Fairest, grant me this happinesse to have my poore affections raised to a Lordship o­ver your thoughts.

Violence of love leads mee into this dis­course, in which I am not so unfortunate as full of desires to be more happie.

Armies of objections rise up against my accepted opinion.

Sir, Though I were to passe through all the splendors of the world to meet with you, my pen could not reach you.

Sir, Nature in you hath laid deep founda­tions in respect of your qualities both of [Page 19] mind and body, in both which she hath made no promise of any mediocrity, by the distribution of which rare perfections she hath rendred you lovely to the world and fit for the service of the greatest Monarchs.

Sir, Your imagination, when you speake in such high tearmes, cannot but move me to believe great improbabilities.

Sir, How happy should I account my selfe, were the Characters of your Vertues im­printed in my breast?

Sir, No imaginary jealousies shall divert me from mine inclination to that good­nesse, to which I have alwayes had an ex­traordinary propension, by your Royall example.

Sir, I have an interest in your prosperity so farre, that I will not complaine of For­tune, so you have an occasion to commend her.

Worthy Sir, You know your selfe too well, to suspect me of flattery.

Vertue and Eloquence are bestowed up­on you, to make you be amongst men as im­mortall.

Sir, I could not have the ambition to sup­pose that there could be any roome left, for [Page 20] you to entertaine a man, of so many imper­fections as my selfe.

The contemplation of your vertues amaze mee.

Sir, I find in you, whatsoever may give a reputation to the Courts of Princes.

Sir, I am reserved for your sake, that no­thing might be wanting to your glory.

Sir, You are the man whom the necessi­ties of the States requires.

Opportunities would wax old, should I neglect this present to serve you.

All spirits will prove favourable to you, since you have convinced them by your me­rits.

Your generous disposition hath permitted me a longer audience, then your affairs could well permit.

Worthy Sir, Reflect upon your crrature, with the bright beames of your generous disposition.

I cannot allot more moderate limits to my ambition, or wish my self a greater hap­pinesse, then to do you service.

Your heroicke acts succeeding Historians shall crowne with Laurels.

Sir, For your sake I will passe beyond the [Page 21] Ice of my naturall aire, and undergoe the in­felicity of cruell fortune.

Sir, There is no happinesse on earth, but is included in your selfe, or in what concerns you.

Sir, Your goodnesse doth bereave me of a voice to expresse your vertues.

Sir, You cannot blame me, though I hate ingratitude, since even beasts are capable of acknowledgement.

Sir, If you withdraw from me your pre­sence, you overthrow all the honor you have hitherto acquired for me.

Sir, I shall fall sicke, for want of a capa­city to disgest your favours.

Sir, Whatsoever you undertake, permit nothing to your spirit, which may wound your reputation.

Sir, Of all men I dare free you from this crime, of violating the chastity of lan­guage.

Sir, I owe too much honour, to the me­mory of our forepast acquaintance, to dis­please you.

Sir, For your sake, at the same time I both enjoy pleasure, and endure paine.

Sir, I must beg of you hereafter to have a [Page 22] greater care of my modesty, since you en­force me, either to loose it, or not to believe you.

Sir, The whole Court is sensible of suffe­ring your name to fall to the ground.

Sir, I am so far from hiding my owne de­fects, that I acknowledge there is none so imperfect as my selfe; neither can any man arive to perfection, except he be adorned with those abilities, whereof I am utterly ignorant.

Sir, I have neither power nor ability left me, but only to expresse, I am yours.

Sir, You have anticipated me of all Rhe­torick, either of being complementall, or re­turning you commendations for your wor­thy favours.

Sir, Instead of requitall, of those vowes you offer me, I am put to a stand, what to answer you.

Mistris, I desire to passe my life in the pleasing dreames of your perfections.

Your Courtly voyce is like an Oracle, ei­ther to approve, or to condemne me.

Sir, I am none of those, who slight the be­nefits are showred upon them.

Sir, I cannot light upon that accent, [Page 23] wherewith I might authorize my own fol­lies.

Sir, All my thoughts are your reall inspi­rations.

Sir, I have no servile dependency but upon your conceptions.

Sir, In matters of Eloquence you seek out singularities, hitherto unknowne to any.

From the first minute of my acquain­tance, I made haste, as I shall ever, to ac­knowledge my selfe, your most humble ser­vant.

Sir, I entertaine these passions, to the end that you may appease me.

Madam, If you still persevere to dote thus on your beauty: the time will come, when your face will scare you, more than a judge doth a fellon.

Sir, I have quitted all complacency, and there is no meanes shall make me silent.

Fairest, There is no part of the world so remote, whither my curiosity, in your search shall not cary me.

Lady, The morall of my affection, is to instruct you to make use of your youth, and to gather Nosegaies, before the Roses wi­ther: for bee confident, when you have no [Page 24] further attractions, than an eloquent tongue no man will seeke for them in the furrowes of your face, and you shall onely bee left, to bewaile the ruines of your beauty.

Sir, Suffer your selfe to be convinced by reason, since you cannot resist the same, but to your disadvantage.

Sir, You must excuse me, since I know not in what manner to suffer so wounding a dis­pleasure.

Sir, All the water in the Sea can never purifie me from this offence.

Lady, You have no more beauty, then wil serve to excuse you from being extream­ly ugly.

Sir, If you grant mee this favour, you shall elevate mee to a more soveraigne for­tune, then the State of Kings.

Sir, It were as great a crime to be igno­rant of the diversions that attend you; as not to bee acquainted with the great afflu­ence of noble company, daily repairing to visit you.

Mistris, In my most solitary walkes it shall be my ambition, to presume only to re­volve you in my most secret cogitations.

Sir, In you alone I must commend the [Page 25] commencements of all vertue.

Sir, In all shapes, and under the most dreadfull aspects that can appeare, I am yours.

Sir, To returne you complements for such excellent favours, were to undervalue their worth; since my language is too poore, and unable to lend mee wherewith to pay you.

Sir, I feare I shall be indebted to you all my life, for the favours I have received of you.

Sir, It is the height of my deserts, to bee passionately, as I am, your most faithfull ser­vant.

Sir, My passions cannot so far transport me, but that I shall remaine, as I have ever beene, yours.

Sir, I intend not to commence any reall warre against you; for I acknowledge my choller to be artificiall, which I am ready to lay downe at your pleasure.

Faire Creature, Painters and Stage-play­ers are not guilty of those murthers, which the darts of your eyes doe most cruelly commit.

Sir, I am not so curious as to condemne [Page 26] the whole multitude, which have lost them­selves in the admiration of your vertues.

Sir, I will dilate my selfe no farther in my expressions; least I dishonour your good­nesse, with my prophane praises.

Sir, Mine eloquence will come too late, since there is no precept in all humane wis­dome, which hath not presented it selfe to your view.

Sir, The consolation I have, next to the assurance I have of my innocency, is the li­berty I enjoy, to professe my selfe, yours.

The principall object of my intentions, hath ever bin the glory of your name.

Sir, I doe professe my selfe yours, with all those protestations, which are able to make truth appeare inviolable.

Sir, I prostrate all my presumption at your feete.

Sir, I can no longer conceale my thoughts; since you have an interest, both in mee and them.

Sir, I never gave you a visit, which cu­red me not of some passion.

Sir, How often with your golden elo­quence, have you taken mee out of my selfe?

[Page 27] Sir, You alone can conduct mee to the highest pitch of accidentall perfection.

Sir, The beames of your eminent vertues, have discovered to me mine owne imperfe­ctions.

Sir, Instead of all those high expressions, you have bestowed upon me, I must only answer you, that I am your humble servant.

S [...]r, There can be no acknowledgement that I can make, can bee answerable to the obligations I owe to your honour.

Sir, You mistake my disposition, if you suppose I affect praises, with the like intem­perance, as I doe perfumes.

Sir, Should I forfeit such occasions, my friendship would never appeare, but re­maine as a Recluse.

Sir, The World would end, and Nature prove unperfit, if there were not such men to maintaine her honours.

Continue to expresse your selfe what you are, that your vertue may be its owne cata­strophe.

Fairest, My thoughts are not so often here, as where you are.

The Physitians have not so farre exhau­sted mee, but that there are some drops of [Page 28] bloud left, to bestow in part of your Ho­nours service.

Madam, Put on those rayes of your beau­tie, that it may budde againe with the next Roses.

Sir, I confesse I was never more astonish­ed, then to find such an equipage of sorrow about you.

Sir, You are adorned with all the excel­lent qualities, that Art and Nature can be­stow, for the commanding of men.

Sir, There is not one part of your body, whereof another is not master.

Sir, It is not in my power to dispose of one single haire, since I am all yours.

Madam, You draw the eyes of all to ad­mire you, since you are as a faire prospect, adorned with all pleasures, to allure the be­holders.

You are the Cabinet, in which Nature hath lockt all her miracles.

Sir, Though I receive injuries from you, it shall be my humility, not to take notice of them.

Sir, I would visit those parts of the world, which avarice it self hath not yet found out, rather then loose your society.

[Page 29] Sir, It is impossible for mee to conceale my sensibilities.

Sir, What violence soever I offer to my anger, I can no longer containe it.

Sir, You do so heape your favours on me, that you will not so much as suffer mee to seeme miserable.

Sir, Your innocent actions carry their warrant with them.

Sir, You doe not so much expresse your wit, as your Tyrannie, in inflicting such tor­ments on me.

Sir, Be not confident; least he whom you have so often injured, do at last grow weary of his sufferings.

Sir, You are the man, with whom alone I desire to passe the most pleasant houres of my life.

Sir, If you pretend excuses for so poore a trifle, know, I am no longer your affectionat servant.

Sir, I shall hold mine eloquence as per­nicious, as the perfections of a Courtizan, should it prove any cause of your quarrels.

Sir, You usurpe a more absolute authority over wits, then is lawfull, or reasonable.

Sir, You smell too much of your Muske [Page 30] and Amber, to expresse your selfe serious in the waight of affaires.

Sir, My conceptions are popular, and to be intelligible among women.

Sir, Your conceits are too far fetcht, and they transcend the subject, on which you bestow them.

Fairest, Let me ravish a kisse from your hand.

Sir, My affections spring not from the dis­eases and distempers of my soule; since my inclinations to serve you, have their origi­nall from immortall Reason.

M stris, You have a power to infuse love and fidelity into the hearts of Barba­rians.

Sir, You cannot bestow your favours a­misse, on him who hath searcht the secrets of Nature, and the depth of Philosophy, that hee might not appeare to bee ingrate­full.

Sir, You must give me leave to admire your judgment, which appeares to be farre more excellent, then your fortunes.

Sir, Let me not seeme to incurre a crime, since I am forced to extoll your generous li­berality.

[Page 31] Sir, You vary your shape, and change your perfumes, according to the diversity of seasons.

Let it please you, out of your noblenesse, to afford me to be your Graces most obedi­ent and faithfull servant.

Sir, You have all those excellent qualities, that are necessary in a Prince.

Sir, I measure the necessities, and fatalities of this world, by your contentments, or discomforts.

Sir, In this exigence of my fortunes, I am forc't to admire your vertues; since you still set so high a value on your creature, who is lost to all men, but to your selfe.

Sir, Your goodnesse is as unlimitable, as the desire I have to serve you.

Sir, In you are comprehended all the riches, that Nature bestowes on her most glorious creatures.

Sir, I speake this seriously, with my best sense; you may reduce me to any forme.

All, who have either eyes or spirits, must place them on so deserving an object.

Fairest, Cast one glance of pitty on me, least you deprive me of all conceits of mer­cie, with the terrible aspect of your eyes; [Page 32] which are to me the Embassadours of life, or death.

Sir, You are the embleme of terrour, and you furious lookes are able to consume a Woman.

Sir, Lift mee not so high with your fa­vours, least you doe but fit me for a preci­pice, and I behold my descent with a grea­ter terrour.

Fairest, Let not your heavenly beauty, seated in it's royall Majesty, draw forth the sword of disdaine, to the ruine of your crea­ture.

Fairest Creature, Since I am the patterne of all ill fortunes, by the force of your af­fection free me from all the miseries that op­presse me.

Sir, You hit mine inclinations since to recompence such vertues, were a work most worthy of all generous spirits.

Sir, Your refusall of the title of eloquent, proves your modesty to be most unjust; since your tongue long since did bereave you of all excuses.

Sir, I dare not enter the lists with you, in respect of your elegancies of speech; for when I would become most perswasive in [Page 33] my language, I appeare most barbarous in my expressions.

Sir, All your Rhetoricall arguments are out like blew flowers amongst the Corne; which though they may seeme pleasant to the eye, prove most unwholesome to the body.

Sir, I shall alwayes acknowledge the most artificiall language, to be like a Gentle­woman adorned with Rubies and Dia­monds, which glister upon her garments, whilst shee her selfe wants the eyes of her body, and of her mind.

Faire One, can I pervert the powers of the planets or resist the force of the Stars? you may then conclude, I can repell these affections.

I am yours Sir, and will be yours in de­spite of fates and fortune.

Madam, Your excellent qualities and ex­quisite vertues have so assaulted the fort of my fancy, that I must of necessitie resigne my selfe up to you as a trophie of your vi­ctories.

Mistris, Since Cupid doth so fitly favour the causes of his clients, Let us not let slip so happy an opportunity.

[Page 34] Madam, If the wishes of a poore mortall may be heard above, I question not but hea­ven with felicities will crowne your royall deserts.

Madam, Though I have not hitherto by dutifull services made manifest the loyaltie of my heart, yet since I first framed in my fancy as in a mirror, the shape of your sur­passing beauty; with all humility, I have cast my selfe and fortunes at your royall feet.

Fairest, There is none upon earth doth with a more loving duty reverence your person and vertues then I doe

Madam, In consideration of my poore fortunes, let my affection appeare so much the more excusable, since I so farre esteeme of your divine beauty and exquisite vertue as I would thinke my selfe most unworthy, though I were Prince of the world, to pos­sesse your heavenly perfections, In respect of any of my owne native honours.

Sir, I have learnt to know that it is the religion of lovers to sweare and forsweare.

Madam, The parching heat of Summer makes the coole shades more pleasant, and the frowns of lovers make their smiles more delightfull and cheerefull.

[Page 35] Mistris, I must never hope so intirely to love as by my affections to requite your loy­altie.

Sir, She which builds her fancie upon fa­ding subjects, tyes her honour to the uncon­stant wheele of fortune.

Fairest, As a pledge of my protestations thou shalt have both my heart and hand to be thine in dust and ashes.

Sir, You have a heart as large as the Sea, which containes in it a capacity of all the ornaments that use to dignifie Princes.

Strive not Sir, to bereave me of the repu­tation, of my honour, least those that shall succeed me hereafter, read my infamy upon my Tombe.

Madam, The beames of your sunne-like beauty with their lively lustre and sparkling flames dazle the eyes of your amazed lover.

Madam, In the shady darknes of this Ar­bor, you seeme like a heaven enameled with an infinite number of Stars.

Having disposed so many affections to do you service, feare it not fairest, your servant must of necessity visit you.

Faire one, whilst mortals injoy your heavenly beauty, the lustre of your resplen­dent [Page 36] eyes shall as the day light serve them for the dispatch of their affaires.

Sir, I cannot be insensible of your mise­ries, since the webbe of our destinies hath passed us both through the like misfor­tunes.

Sir, I am reall and use not to entertaine my friends with dreames and illusions.

Sir, This your inhumane usage of your creature shall never seem strange to me since the most fervent affections of the world of­tentimes degenerate into the vehementest enmities.

Sir, Wee equally share of one anothers discontents and dissolve our hearts together as one would melt one peece of waxe into another.

Fairest, Those eminent qualities which nature as a dowry hath bestowed upon you, like flowers spread themselves forth by the rayes of your bright beauty, causing those courtships services and admirations which so sweetly adorne you.

Mistris, Ladies of honour to expresse the sincerity of their affections have breathed forth their lives on the Tombes of their de­ceased lovers.

[Page 37] Madam, If I am consumed by the fires of Cupid, blame me not, since your eyes enkind­led the flames of my affections.

Madam, Exercise not the extremity of your rigour upon him that suffers such mise­ries under the title and quality of an offen­ders.

Know faire creature that a bright day may at last inlighten my innocency, when revengefull lovers shall search into my ashes to find our truth there buryed.

Sir, These glorious progressions of your vertue will at last mount you to the highest pitch of admiration.

Madam, Shut not up these eyes from the light of your beauty, least they be perpetu­ally opend to teares.

Madam, It is unpossible you should ever draw to you a reputation of honour signed with the effusion of my bloud.

Madam, There are those will deplore my ashes and strew some silly flowers on the place impressed with the prints of your pu­nishments.

Faire one, when my soule shall be separated from my body, it shall every where wait on your purified spirit as the shadow of it.

[Page 38] Madam, If you should please to con­demne me to darkenesse by the eclipsing of the divine light of your beauty, yet I de­spaire not; but that at last from the sphere of your splendors due to my merits, you will vouchsafe the rayes of your clemency to in­lighten the duskie nights of my miseries and misfortunes.

Faire one, though death may separate our lives, yet love shall unite our ashes, and we shall preserve the immortality of our affecti­ons by the immortality of our soules.

Madam, Seated thus on your faire pavili­on, you appeare like resplendent day in the attires of a Majesty absolutely royall.

Madam, Your goodly stature, well pro­portioned body, the bright colour of your face, the lively port and grave carriage of your person; all of these speake you to be a regall branch, sprung from some royall stemme.

Faire one, your haire negligently dis­cheveld and carelesse atire, grace forth your beauty, which shines forth in the midst of so many obstacles as the sun in a winters day.

Faire creature, cast not those eyes down, neither colour your face with those modest [Page 39] blushes, since it would appeare most admi­rable, that your vertues should find fetters in a place where they may expect crownes.

Sir, I desire to end my dayes on the theatre of Kings in their glorious services.

Madam, Heaven hath created me such an one, as you see full of good will, though of slender fortunes and meanes.

Sir, We have continually lived together as one soule, divided into two bodies, since our amities have taken roote in a mutuall temperature and correspondency of hu­mours, and have maintained in us a conti­nued familiarity which neither death nor hell shall have power to separate.

Fairest, Our breasts shall bee ever inter­changably transparent.

Faire one, dissimulation or contradiction cannot approach the sinceritie of our loves.

Fairest, Let mee embrace you with the opennesse of my heart and the profusion of my love, that our soules may evaporate themselves into affection.

Sir, Your favours create me againe, and give me a new being.

Sir, I shall never pretend any right to [Page 40] any honour in the world, but only to obey your commands.

Mistris, The grace of speech dwels on your faire lips.

Sir, Hereafter ages shall take Palmes and Lillies to Crowne the relikes of your ho­nord ashes.

Fairest, These eyes of mine, are but em­blemes of teares mixed with love.

Madam, Spred not that Cipresse vaile ore your face, least you benight your beauty and darken the bright rayes of your owne curio­sities.

Madam, Your beauty is a divinity left on earth to bee knowne and beloved of mor­tals.

THE ACADEMY of Complements. Choice and faire Flowers, Selected out of the Garden of Eloquence, to adorne our language with variety of expressions, upon severall occasions.

Ʋpon his Absence.

I Shall no longer esteeme my selfe absent from you, whilst I hold any roome in your heart and memory.

Let not my remotenes change your pur­poses, [Page 42] more than it shakes the resolution I have made, to live, yours.

Protestations of Love.

IT is as unpossible for me not to love you; as it is for the Sunne to forget his ordinary course.

So am I ravished with your beauty, that it will prove harder for me to forget you, then it would prove difficult to resolve for death: and know for a certaine, that I shall still be rather content and disposed to con­sent to the hatred of my selfe, then to the love of any other object but you.

Your fight may be forbidden me, and you may hinder me from speaking to you, but not to have the effigies of your divine beau­tie imprinted in my heart: and not to love and serve you, it is a thing not only out of your power, but mine also; for I am to you, as an accident, so inseparable, that you can­not be without me.

Ʋpon her beauty.

I Should have thought I had too much fai­led in my duty, had I not guided it to so much beauty; for the favour of your affecti­ons, is the sacrifice of my life.

Vanquished by your beauty, I have yeel­ded up the arms of my liberty and freedome, under your obedience.

Nothing shall take from my heart, but death it selfe, the faire Image of your divine beauty.

In admiration of her goodnesse.

IT is your goodnesse that hath supplied my small merit; which could not have durst to promise me the favours you afford me.

On her leaving him.

LOvers in despite of absence, loose not the remembrance of their Loves: they are as the Flowers; which, though trod on, do resume their lustre at the Suns approach.

To forsake mee, when your company is dearest to me, is no signe of true friendship, which parts not at death it selfe, since love remaines for ever.

Take pitty on all those bloudy sorrowes, which the apprehension of your absence makes me already so miserably to feele.

To accuse in a Letter.

IT is better to love with severity, then to deceive with sweetnesse.

I would forbeare to write to you in this manner, were it not, that the affection I beare you, doth force, and by its authority, draw all these words from my heart, and mouth.

[Page 45] Mistris, The Bees are not hated for their stings, no more should you hate me for the sharpnesse of my circumstances.

We must not praise our selves, for being better than the worst; but rather blame our selves, for being worse than the best; since then I faile in my merits, give me leave to mourne for my imperfections.

Farewels.

I Must depart from you, yet shall not mine obedience be deprived of your service.

Adieu faire Sunne of my life, I leave you for this present; but be alwayes assured, that my minde, and my desires, shall never de­part from your service.

Deare Love, I know not which way to begin to bid you farewell, nor how to finish this discourse, which once silenced, admits of our disconsolate absence.

Woe is me, must I needs wander away from all my felicities at once, loosing with the happinesse of your sight, the most perfect object of my beatitude?

[Page 46]Farewell, Madam, be alwaies fortunate, whilst I shal languish unhappy, though most constant.

Expressions of affections.

YOu can never doe so much for me, but that the affection wherewith I adore you, and the faith I have imposed in you, will prove far greater.

Mistris, You are the first, to whom my affectionate heart hath beene offered; and shall (if you please) be the last, that shall have the possession of it.

Doe but let me once discover my affecti­ons to you, and then command me to perpe­tuall silence, if you please.

You are the eye of mine eyes, and thought of my thoughts, the perfection of my de­faults, the life of my love, the scope and end of all my desires and hopes.

Beare well in mind mine affection, that though I bee removed from your faire eyes, I may not be so from your favours.

The Lovers expression of constancy.

I Shall in loving you, manifest such an affe­ctionate stability, and stedfastnes, that my loyalty shall thinke it selfe beholding to my love.

My constancy may easily shew you, that it hath as good an heart to dye for you, as it had a mind and desire to live and love you.

Earth shall sooner dispossesse Heaven of his place, then that any one shall boast of lo­ving more constantly than I.

I shall make it appeare to after times, that I am the man, who for your sake hath made himselfe the invincible rock of stedfastnesse: for I shall still hug my constancy, and never let it stirre from me, till my last gaspe.

Ʋpon her affability and Courtesie.

IT is your courtesie that lends me the fa­vour, which Heaven and Nature had de­nyed me.

[Page 48]It is out of your generous disposition you wish me well, as it is of duty that I honour you.

Ʋpon a lovers feare.

LOvers live alwayes in more feare then hope, and will sooner conceive of their sorrowes, then credit their joyes.

The feare I have, least my slender merit should take away your good mind to wish me well, doth in a sort make all those joyes imperfect, which this sweet thought of mine, made me to judge so full and entire.

On his Desires.

FAirest, Be but as desirous of my content as I am of your service.

My desires make mee as carefull to please you, as I am bound by duty, and compelled by inclination to serve you.

I wish, Heaven that gave me the boldnes [Page 49] of desire, had likewise graced mee with desert.

To give or present.

THis I dedicate, consecrate, and offer up unto you, with the same heart, where­with I vowed you my service.

I had rather present you with some small thing, and so be reputed ignorant, then un­gratefull.

Regard more the affection, then the me­rit of the worke; and so accept it, not as a thing of merit, but as a testimony of my good will.

On effects of their Love.

YOu shall know one day in effect, what you now have but in imagination.

One day you will come to know the con­clusion of the irreproachable testimonies of my true, and faithfull promises.

Vpon her eloquence.

YOur eloquence is able to steale the soule out of ones heart, and carry it whither it would goe.

One is no more able to overcome you with good words, then with good actions.

The eloquence of your sweet words stop my mouth, and bind me to perpetuall silence

Excuses.

IN excusing your unjust feare, you seeme to accuse my boldnesse.

I pray you heare my reasons patiently, and judge without passion of my justifications.

It is for great minds to excuse great faults.

Experience of a Lover.

I Have so much experience of your good will, that it only remaines, that you make [Page 51] tryall of my desire of acknowledgement.

I have had such tryall of your friend-ship and fidelity, that I hope you will not faile me in time of need.

Ʋpon her face.

THe wonders of your face, made mee your Captive, as soone as I saw you; and that rare grace of yours, which makes you excell all others, retained me your pri­soner.

Vpon his favours.

IF you judge, or deeme me worthy to fa­vour you, hold that your merits are much more than my deserts.

I am ignorant what service might satisfie, for the favours I have received of you.

I can have no meanes, dutifully to ac­knowledge this favourable proofe of your faire condition, and honesty.

Vpon his fortunes.

FOrtune strives now to make mee pay the interest of those pleasu [...] [...]he formerly lent mee.

Dame Fortune is too covetous, and usu­rious, in taking from me the interests of my prosperity.

Vpon her hatred.

I Do not think (though I should give you occasion to hate me) that your good na­ture can wish me an injury, since you are not composed of any thing, but love.

Courtesie dwelt on your fore-head, but malice resided in your soule, and lay concea­led in your mind.

On her Inconstancy.

YOu use your friends, as one doth flow­ers, which please not, but when they are fresh and new.

I perceive that ardent affection which was wont to keepe mee so alive in your thoughts, doth now no more raigne in you.

In praise of Her.

I Could not, without making my selfe guilty of irreverence, speake otherwise to you, then in a way of praise.

Madam, To live with you, is to live with all the graces; for Nature hath made you the example of her liberalities.

For her retention of him in her memory.

DOe not that wrong to your true love, to let him slide out of your memor,y for then he must appeale from your judgement, to your goodnesse.

Keep me alive in your thoughts, as I hold you in the most sensible part of my soule.

On his Merit.

I Could never doe so great a thing, but would bee too small for your merits and my desires.

Your merits drive me to love you, my hu­mour permits it, and my content will needs have mee employ my endeavours to serve you.

The praises you attribute unto me, proceed from your will, and not from any merit of mine.

The necessitie of his Affections.

THe necessitie of love is most mighty in the world: for it overcomes all.

There is nothing more insupportable, in a necessitated person, then nicenesse.

O how happy a thing is that necessitie, that enforceth us to such good things?

Protestation of his obedience.

I Shall not all the dayes of my life have a will, which shall not obey yours.

You know the power you have over me, and that I am so much yours, as you can wish me.

To offer and present service.

ALL the honour and ambition I aspire at, is to see my selfe employed in your service.

Your beauty alone is able to witnesse the affection I beare you.

All that is mine, is no lesse yours, then are your thoughts and words.

The most favourable gift you can offer me, is your friendship, which I preferre before all other treasures.

Wishes.

HEaven, which heares the vowes of the faithfull, blesse and content your de­sires.

God make you the happiest woman that lives; even as he hath made you the fairest, and most accomplished.

[Page 57]Heaven grant you may be as faithfull, as you are deare to me.

Bewailings of a Lover.

I Doe so bewaile our separation, that no­thing can ever touch my soule, like the griefe I endure by it.

The greatest griefe I carry along with me, when I part from this place, is, to see how I am for ever deprived of your faire presence.

To give thankes.

IF I have done you any acceptable service, thinke it was but the shadow of what I desire to shew you, by reall effects.

I take this benefit from you, but as bor­rowed; I will pay you rent for it.

Though the service I have done you, bee but small; yet the desire I have had to ac­knowledge the honours I have received from you, are exceeding great.

On the deceits of Love.

YOur faire eyes have too much majestie to serve for baites, or allurements of a dissembling love.

Doe not deceive him, that will outbrave death it selfe, to insure your life, and with­stand the frownes of fortune to protect your honours.

On his Life.

MY life is a Comedy, and therefore no matter how long it be, so that it be well acted: Sweetest, if the last Scene be Tragicke, your crueltie must be the Ne­mesis.

On the lustre of her eyes.

YOur eyes flash so much lightning, that like Suns, they dazle the sight of all such as dare behold them.

You have so established your Soveraignty over my soule, that the least twinckle of your eyes, disposeth mee of the state of my life.

A tender of service to ones Soveraigne.

Sir,

IT may appeare great boldnesse in me, al­together unknowne unto your Majesty, to hope that any beame of favour should re­flect on my unworthinesse, to cherish my cheerefull willingnes, though with hazzard of my life, to doe you any loyall service:

Yet encouraged by yout royall goodnes, [Page 60] that can let fall unequall, yet sufficient bles­sings on all, I beseech you to permit me, out of the valley of humility, to looke up unto the sacred hill of your Highnesse Majesty, and at the foote thereof, kneeling to offer up my devotions, and my most humble service; which if you graciously deigne to accept, as I do humbly prostrate them; I shall account your favour the supremest felicity, whereof I can be capable in this World, and I shall blesse the houre, that gave mee opportunity to present my selfe and service to your em­ployment, than which, ambition can have no higher object.

Another.

THat which hath beene imagined of a golden age, as an Idea of all perfect happines, was but a prophesie of your gra­cious raine, showring downe felicity in such a plenteous maner, that all your Sub­jects are thereby invited to offer up unto you sacrifices of thankes and obedience; while I shall account it the chiefest honour, that my birth and stars could bequeath me, if I may approve my loyalty, in exposing [Page 61] my life to any danger in your service.

Another.

Sir,

THough I cannot worthily desire, nor de­serve your gracious favour; yet it will shew you nearest heaven, and that you resemble the King of Kings, in accepting my weake and humble devotions, with the tender of my loyall service. Let not the poorenes of my merit, or the oblation make them contemptible in your sight; for I have long had an earnest zeale, to expresse with what integrity I adore the vertues wherewith you are replenished, farre above all flattery: so that your gracious raigne is but the Galaxia, or milkwhite path, through which you travell in your happy governe­ment, and by examples lead your subiects to Heaven.

Another.

Sir, If vertue and loyalty were not to be found in some of ordinary quality, I should blush and tremble at my owne forward de­sires to doe you service. But since it is a [Page 62] signe of some eminent worth, not to carry poore and narrow thoughts, but such as may be high as heaven, whereunto that soule is allyed, which dedicates it's service only to God and the King: I therefore ever accoun­ted it a noblenesse of mind, to rayse and ad­vance my thoughts, to desire that I might shew my willingnesse to doe you service in some employment, whereby I might ex­presse and approve my selfe, your faithfull humble servant.

A tender of service to the QƲEENE.

Madam,

THe same service and obeisance which I offered unto the King, I doe now with as great strength of passion and affection tender unto your Majesty; and as I am His loyall subject, so to be Your faithfull servant, shall be the height of my glory.

Madam, My service and obeysance is so [Page 63] divided betweene the King and your Maje­stie, that I shall esteeme it my highest con­tentment, and chiefest advancement, to bee accounted your humble servant, which Ti­tle will satisfie all my desires.

Another.

Madam,

There are no words strong enough, to expresse how much I honour your Royall perfections, which render you beloved and respected of all the world; while I make it the chiefe imployment of my life, to attend upon your command; whom to obey, is perfect happinesse.

An humble addresse to a great Lord.

My Lord,

IN regard of the many favours which your Honour hath heaped on me, I am bound, first to acknowledge my happinesse therein, and also to desire that you would alwayes [Page 64] reckon me in the number of your most obli­ged servants.

Otherwise.

My Lord,

As it is a great happinesse for me to come to your presence, and offer my devotions to your Excellency, from the Altar of an hum­ble heart: so it will be an addition unto my felicity, if I may improve this present op­portunity, to make tender of my service.

Otherwise.

My Lord,

It will become me, amongst others, to ac­knowledge your many excellent vertues, a­mongst which your noble clemency and hu­mility are the chiefest, whereof as others have had experience, so I doubt not, but you will favourably accept the oblation and ten­der of my humble service.

Another to some great Lord.

MOst noble Lord, as I hold it for a prin­cipall favour in admitting me to kisse your honours hand, so shall I esteem my selfe most happy for ever, in that your honour is pleased to accept me henceforth as ranked in the number and catalogue of your most hum­ble and obsequious servants.

Another.

My Lord, the ranke you hold with the great and singular ornaments of vertues, in you, doe oblige me to offer unto your Lord­ship all that little is in me, and to tender un­to you upon all occasions, my service in all obsequious humility.

Another.

Most honoured Lord, if your excellency will be pleased to permit me to exercise my [Page 66] mall indeavours of rendring my duty to your honour in expectation that heaven will favour me so farre as to grant me opportu­nities, whereby I may make appeare in ef­fect the desires I have to performe to you my best service.

To tender ones service.

Cleodos.

Sir,

I Must entreat you to pardon my bold­nesse, in that I, who am a stranger, have presumed to come to visit you, being invited thereunto by the fame and report of your noble vertues, which have made me ambiti­ous to desire your acquaintance, and earnest­ly desirous, that you would impose on me some command, whereby I might expresse my selfe your humble servant.

Beumont,

Sir,

You have much honoured me by your comming, and by your words, as through a Per­spective, J clearely discerne the power of your [Page 67] affections, bringing you hither, where your wel­come cannot bee equall to my desire, nor your desert.

Cleodos,

Sir,

The occasion of my comming, was for no other respects, but those due unto your merit, and by an humble addresse of service, to bring my selfe acquainted with you whom I honour, and am ready to serve.

Beumont.

Sir,

You owe me no service, but I am ready to embrace your friendship, evidently d [...]scove­red by your kind visitation, which is a favour farre above my desert; but J pray let not our love breake off, for want of any mutuall re­spects, wherein I will strive to equall you, and ever remaine in all the tyes of love, your most constant friend.

Cleodos.

Then I shall acknowledge my selfe most happy in my bold visitation; for to gaine your amity, is to me a chiefest felicity; not only in regard of your naturall worth, flow­ing from your birth and education; but also your sweet company and conversation, with which I hope you will hereafter be pleased to honour me.

Beumont,

Sir,

I dare not acknowledge that which you ascribe unto me, your praises are but the effects of your love; but if my company, or friend­ship may bee any way pleasing unto you, com­mand them both, for I will be ready to wait up­on you: and therefore be assured of me, as of one that hath devoted himselfe wholly to your employment, for your love and kinde visitation hath gained me to be your true friend.

To thanke a friend for a Courtesie.

Cleodos.

SIR,

I cannot give you thankes enough for your great love, exprest in that kind­nesse you did me of late; but I hope, though I expect a while, yet at last I shall snatch opportunity to make requitall, and shew you how much I abhorre the vice of ingra­titude, especially to you, unto whom I am so much obliged.

Beumont,

Sir,

What I did, was even wrung from mee [Page 69] by the extraordinary quality of your merit, en­gaging me to shew my utmost power and cheere­full willingnesse, to undergoe any service that might concerne you.

Cleodos.

Sir,

It is your worthinesse, that you will not acknowledge your own noble and ver­tuous actions.

Beumont,

Sir,

Those words would become me better in acknowledgement of your worth, wherein you farre exceed mee; yet in respect of amity, J will not yeeld, but ever maintaine a constant af­fection towards you.

Cleodos,

Sir,

I will alwayes retaine in memory your good deserts in my behalfe, and you shall know, that you have not sowed your benefits on a barren ground, that will yeeld you nothing; for your love shall alwayes reape the fruits of my service.

Beumont,

Sir,

Thereby you will oblige me, for I must acknowledge the number of your benefits doe binde me to serve you; but I never did you any kindnesse deserving your acceptance, much lesse meriting to bee remembred by you; yet here­after [Page 70] I will extend my power to the uttermost, to shew a mind free from ingratitude.

Cleodos.

Sir,

That you have done already, and I doubt not but you will persevere in your af­fection; my care is only how I may requite your former courtesies.

Beumont,

Sir,

It is I that am troubled to imagine how I may acquit my selfe for your former courte­sies; for if you still proceed to be your selfe in such noble actions towards me, I must acknow­ledge my selfe overcome in the contention of Love.

Cleodos.

Sir,

You shall not need to contend, since the former courtesies you have done me, do require that I should yeeld my selfe to bee, your humblest servant.

To entertaine a Gentlewoman at your Chamber.

Aym.

I Have brought you to a rude Cham­ber, but I am much beholding to you, for taking paines to grace me and my lodging; and am only sorry, I shall not give you such en­tertainment, as you deserve; let me bid you welcome with a kind salutation.

Gent.

Indeed, Sir, You have an hand­some Chamber, fit to entertaine one of grea­ter credit than my selfe; I hope you will pardon my boldnesse for accompanying you thus far; if I did not know you, I should be suspicious of bad dealing; and some jea­lous braines would not sticke to censure me of too much familiarity.

Aym.

I hope you are confident in mee, that my intents are faire and noble, for J will not of­fend you with moving any thing that may tend to your disgrace, since my chiefest desire is to enjoy your company, and to discourse a while with you; here we have place and oppor­tunitie.

Gent.
[Page 72]

But those are enemies to our Sex, yet I hope, you will bee right and square in all your actions.

Aym.

May I never prosper, If I seeke any thing but your owne contentment; for if I should make any base motion, you may with a frowne command mee to silence, and your displeasure would be to me above all torments.

Gent.

I doe not feare your honest intent, but these wanton Pictures are Emblemes of your roving affection; yet one of them I like very well, and would request it of you, if modesty would permit.

Aym.

Alas! these are but shadowes where­in the Painter hath exprest some skill, but if you please to make choyse of the best of my Cham­ber, it shall be at your command.

Gent.

I dare not presume so much, and though I should embrace your offer, it would grieve me, that I could not make you some requitall; it does not become mee to be too much beholding, by trespassing on your free bounty.

Aym.

Alas! What is it that I can deny you? Pray esteeme mee at your command, and you shall favour me, if you make yonder picture worthy of your acceptance.

Gent.
[Page 73]

I thanke you; it may be, I will be so bold to send for it. Now it remaines, that I must thanke you for your kind entertain­ment and banquet, and so leave you, desiring pardon of my boldnesse.

Aym.

Since you will not be detained, I will wait upon you to your coach, and acknowledge my selfe infinitely obliged for your favour, in daigning this kind visitation.

To present a Ring to a Gentlewoman.

AYM.

Pardon mee, if I, moved there­unto by the zealous affection which I beare you, doe here expresse it in the dumbe language of a small present, unworthy your acceptance; yet I pray weare it for my sake, it may draw down your eye to think on me, who now am wounded by the powerfull beames of your beauty.

Gent.

Sir, Though it would shew a scorne­full mind in me, not to accept your love tendered unto mee in such a visible manner; yet I am sorry you should bee at so great and needlesse charges: for wherein can I serve you to make requitall?

Aym.
[Page 74]

It is you that make this unworthy present precious, for if you deigne to let it encircle your white finger, it being a Dia­mond Ring, will sparkle most in the darke, shewing that love, like a clouded Star, shines lightest in the night of misfortune.

Gent.

Well, Sir, I am obliged by courtesie to receive it, and since you please to conferre so rich a gift, on my unworthinesse, J will weare it for your sake.

Aym.

Then you honour me above my de­sert; for your acceptance of this sacrifice of my love, is to me above all rewards. The Ring is inscribed with Amor circulus, love is a circle without end.

Gent.

I must acknowledge your bounty, and my selfe your servant, in bestowing on mee so rich a gift.

Aym.

The sparkling lustre thereof, cannot compare with the light beames of your eyes; but honour mee so much to cary it on your finger.

Gent.

I promise that, and more, acknowledge my selfe-infinitely beholding to you.

Aym.

Enough is said, concerning so poore a matter: yet in your acceptance of this trifle, I blesse my own happinesse.

To woe a coy, scornefull Maide.

Aym.

LEt not my love be misconstrued for presumption, if I once again strive to warme your affection, by declaring unto you, how much I honour your perfections; pray at last be mercifull, and doe not still reward my love with cold disdaine.

Maid.

Sir, I know that men have power­full language, but I am none of those young ones; you are deceived, if you think that fine muske words can sweeten me up to betray my selfe; and for my beauty, I would not have you doate on that: it suffices me, with­out commendation.

Aym.

Should J not commend what all ad­mire, I were much too blame.

Maid.

Sir, Wisemen admire nothing, for if I were beautifull, What is beauty, but a fa­ding flower, blasted often, with too much breathing on, and cannot grow safely upon the stalke of virginity, because every one wil be reaching forth to gather it? Pray excuse mee if I prevent danger, for love and I are quite fallen out.

Aym.
[Page 76]

Let me reconcile you to a good opinion of a chast Love, there is no greater happinesse than the sacred union of hearts, especially when long and humble sute conquers disdaine, and so J hope perseverance will at last crowne me with your love, and bring you to entertaine my desire with a mutuall affection.

Maid.

Sir, If you would be more thrifty of your breath, you might spend it to better purpose, for you may intimate your desires, and make tedious discourses: but in a word, I shall never love you.

Aym.

O say not so, you know not how much misery those few words would bring upon me, for hope, grounded on your gentle disposition, hath hitherto kept me alive, and makes me walk like a faint shadow, while in my Chamber I am like a mourner, with a taper by me, watching my owne funerall, and I dwell there in a mist of sighs; and all this is for your sake.

Maid.

Well I hope you will not accuse me of your death, pray shake off this love, and I will then acknowledge your kindnes in ceasing to trouble me with complaints. Learne wisedome, that will cure all distem­pers.

Aym.

Yet while I live, I will attend upon you, [Page 77] and when I am dead, I will visit you in a dream, and tell you, you were a cruell mayd. To con­clude, let one parting kisse seale my pasport to Elysium, and I am gone.

Mayd.

Well, since you are so resolute, I will strive to give you a better answer at your next returne.

Aym.

In confidence of that happinesse, I will presume to visit you againe, and live to bee your servant.

A jesting discourse with a Maide.

Aym.

COme, why will you be an enemie to your selfe, and let modesty keep you still in the state of virginity? I came to offer my service to helpe you of this trouble.

Mayd.

You are very kinde; but I like my present estate, Maids are happie.

Aym.

Alas! poore Ignorance, dost thou talke of happinesse? I tell thee, untill thou art marryed, thou art but a Cypher, and of none account.

Mayd.

ô Sir, You are deceived; our hearts, [Page 78] free from the passion of love, retaine a world of happinesse, being exempted from any wanton knowledge; for maids, dying in their present condition, doe all goe to Heaven.

Aym.

You are deceived, their punishment is to lead Apes in Hell; and therefore to a­voyde this, be kind while you may, and ac­cept of a friendly offer.

Maid.

What offer?

Aym.

Least it should rayse a blush upon your cheek, I will whisper it into your eare, you understand.

Mayd.

I heare too much, thy infectious words have betrayed a base ignoble mind.

Aym.

Why? I did but tell you a truth, I had thought you had bin more intelligent, and would not have started at a bold word.

Mayd.

Nay farewell.

Aym.

Pardon mee, all I have spoken was to try your temper, and having found you both wise and wittie, I will desire you in a faire manner to grant me your love, which I only desire; and though I did appeare rash and wanton, you shall find mee worthy of your affection.

To contract privatly ones selfe, and tye the knot of Marriage.

Aym.

NOw, our Love hath arrived to an happy conclusion, the stormes raised by your disdaine, being blowne over, the union of our affections making a soft and gentle har­mony, which the Soule can only discerne; ther­fore that our new begun love may never expire, J doe here in the sight of heaven and all good Angels, marry and contract my Soule to yours, and give away my selfe wholly to be at your dis­posing, untill the Ceremonies of the Church do confirme my promise.

Maid.

With as true an affection I doe give over my selfe into your possession, and freely bestow on you, my love, which shall never know alteration, but remain ever firm and constant to you now it is expedient that you obtaine my friends good will, ac­cording to your promise; and till then we must remaine only contracted in affection.

Aym.

Heaven, I beseech thee beare wit­nesse to our private agreement, and may I never know one day of comfort, when I breake my pro­mised [Page 80] vow; let me now embrace you with the armes of affection, and thus with a kisse seale the obligation of our Love.

To salute a friend newly arrived from a Iourney.

Alex.

SIr, When the newes of your returne had arived to my knowledge, J was pained with an earnest desire to behold you, and prevent other of your friends, by the first ten­der of my service: that as my love towards you doth exceed theirs, in true, perfect sincerity: so it might in place obtaine priority, and shew how ambitious I am of your favour.

Aymwell.

Sir, You still continue your former noble­nesse, making it your chiefe aime, to exceed others in perfection of mind; otherwise I had intentions to visit you, but it is your desire and happinesse to overcome your friends in kindnesse; for which I can but returne you thankes, and acknowledge you a worthy friend.

Alex.
[Page 81]

Sir, You make too good an interpretation of [...]y rash presumption, but it is held, that friends [...]ave but one soule in two bodyes; therefore, when J behold you, I enjoy the other halfe of my [...]elfe; besides, after long absence, your compa­ [...]y must needs bee more pretious; so that I had [...]oth Love and Reason on my side, to perswade [...]e to come and visit you.

Aymwell.

Sir, I want words to expresse my mind, [...]r to argue a case in love; but in my opini­ [...]n, I ought to have visited you first, in re­ [...]ard I am very much obliged unto you: [...]ut to proceed no farther in ceremony, let [...]s discourse of some other affaires. I will [...]e bold to enquire, how all our friends doe.

Alex.

Sir, Some of them have undergone change [...]f fortunes, and therein declared an invincible [...]rength of mind; but Heaven be thanked, all [...]hat honour and respect you, are living, and in [...]ealth.

Aym.

Sir, I am wonderfull glad to heare of it, [...]nd I shall rejoyce exceedingly when I [...]eete any of my old acquaintance; I hope I [Page 82] am not altogether lost unto their remem­brance, they will know me certainely.

Alex.

Sir. Travell hath not wrought much change in you, but I detaine you, I feare, from your rest.

Aym.

Sir, Were I tired with travell, as I am not, yet your company would very much refresh me.

Alex.

Sir, I will crave your pardon at this time, I know to tarry longer, would be troublesome un­to you; but to morrow I will wayte on you a­gaine.

To entertaine a friend, who is come to visit one.

Alex.

Sir, I Am most glad to see you, though I have no other entertainement for you, but a kind welcome.

Aymwell.

Sir, I expect no more, I come to enioy your [Page 83] company, and to be happy in your society; for in the generall, I doe find none that can suite my condition, so well as your selfe.

Alex.

Sir, Take of me what pleases you, I am vowed to your service; and your loving vi­sitation is an addition to your many other kindnesses.

Aym.

Sir. All that I acknowledge, is a will to doe you service: but I haue beene slow in produ­cing the effects, hereafter I will study to de­serve.

Alex.

Sir, it is your ingenuous goodnesse, to decline the acknowledgement of your owne vertue and deserts, farre surpassing my me­rit; for tis I am bound to be your servant.

Aym.

Sir, It is I that am obliged to you, by many strong tyes of affection, from which the service of my life cannot disengage mee; but I have trespast against manners, pray take the chaire.

Alex.

Sir, Please you to sit first, for it becomes me to waite your leasure.

Aym.

[Page 84]Sir, J am provided, but if it may not appeare too much boldnesse, what was the Adamant, or occasion, that made you thus kinde, to visit my lodging?

Alex.

Sir, Shall I tell you? I came not to bor­row mony, or to enforce your good nature to grant any motion of request; but only to keep our love and amity fresh, and in per­fect strength, by some conference.

Aym.

Sir, You have chosen a bad opportunity, my affaires carry me away from my friends; be­sides the obligation of my word to a Lady, to at­tend upon her this day.

Alex.

Sir, I will choose some other time, to at­tend you.

Aym.

Sir. J will attend upon you, if J might know the place, and houre, where to meete you.

Alex.

Sir, I will not put you to that trouble, it will become mee rather to waite on you.

Aym.

Sir, Pardon me, I am much obliged to you.

Alex.

[Page 85] Sir, I am your servant.

Aym.

Sir, I am the servant of your servants, pray remember my respects to all our friends.

Alex.

Sir, I will be yours in that, and all other services.

To woe a faire young Gentlewoman.

Aymwell.

PArdon me, I pray, if I presume to speake, what I have hitherto, with much affliction, hid from your knowledge.

There is a Gentleman that hath beheld your outward beauty, and by his judgement clearely discerned your vertues, the ornament of your mind; these have produc'd in him a strange effect, so that in spite of his owne Reason, or disswasion of friends, he is violently compell'd to speake truth.

Penelope.

Sir, Call you this an affliction? Tis un­happinesse to speake, and heare truth.

Aymwell,

Doe you hold that opinion? [Page 86] Then I will convince you by your owne argu­ment. For if it be unhappinesse to heare truth; then I hope you will pardon me, if being compel­led by the strength of my passion, I doe truly tell you, that J have plac'd my affection wholly upon you, or as they commonly say, J doe love you.

Pen.

Sir, I am sorry that you have made mee the obiect of your love, I know your birth and person may deserve one of greater ac­count; and therefore I am amazed at the un­expressed novelty of your motion, not ima­gining, but your bosome had been free from any flame: let your wisdom then suppresse it, least your love becom fruitlesse in the event.

Aym.

I will not be discouraged by your first answer, for neither are you beneath me in quali­ty, who am your servant; neither can it ap­peare to you so strange a matter, that I should be taken with your beauty, which others ad­mire; though it be my fortune only, to be bol­der then the rest, and I hope not unwelcome.

Penelope.

Sir, I would not have you cherish any un­certaine hope, nor build any assured founda­tion, where you have no ground given: love cannot be compelled, but must flow from [Page 87] the spring of naturall desire; but I find in my selfe no inclination to entertaine your affection; therefore you must pardon me, if I deny your sute, which I cannot grant.

Aym.

Nothing is impossible to love; for if you would beleeve that I beare a noble and con­stant affection towards you, you would soone o­vercome this difficulty, and encline your minde to reward my affection with your favour.

Pen.

Sir, I am confident, that your affection is right and perfect, not seeking, under a faire and colourable pretence, to betray me: yet I cannot force my selfe to consent to your motion, I being utterly ignorant in Love matters; therefore excuse me, till time, and consideration shall enforce me how to an­swer your desire.

Aym.

I am comforted, that you have not utterly denied my sute; I hope at my next vi­sitation to receive more comfort; till then, I take my leave, and presume onely to breath my heart upon your hand, or, if you please, your lip, desiring you to remember me in absence.

When one meeteth a friend in the Streete.

Alex.

GOD save you, Sir, You are most happily met. How fare you?

Clor.

Sir, I am the better to see you well and lustie, why will you not doe me the honour to visit me at my Chamber?

Alex.

Sir, I must confesse I have often broken promise therein, but businesse would not permit me, otherwise I had long since waited on you.

Clor.

Sir, I should rather account my selfe obliged to waite on you, for I am bound unto you for many favours; especially, for the last cour­tesie you did me in a matter which concerned me much. Will you now doe me the kindnesse to beare my respects to a Gentlewoman?

Alex.

Sir, If she be honest, I am ready to goe on your errand. I hope you will not put me on a disgracefull peece of service.

Clor.

Sir, I hope you have no such bad sus­pition of me, for she is both a faire and vertu­ous Gentlewoman, and hath a nimble wet: but I know you can deliver your mind in an excel­lent way.

Alex.
[Page 89]

Sir, It is you, whom Mercury the god of wit hath adorn'd with a gentle amorous speech; but I will speake in your behalfe, in as good and effectuall tearmes as I can remember.

Clor.

Sir, You shall doe me then a most per­fect favour. Tell her, I am her ready and wil­ling servant, and that the power of love hath given her my heart, which I will come to fetch, in hope she will give it me backe, and till then keepe it warme in her owne bosome. But what need I instruct you, who are all Love and Courtship?

Alex.

Sir, I will performe your com­mand, though not in such words, as you would desire, yet so as my suddaine Genius shall prompt me, but I have heard it said.

That in way of love and glory,
Lovers best tell their owne story.
Clor.

Sir, Pardon me, J know whom I doe entrust with this businesse, I am assur'd of your fidelity, and that you can deliver your mind in a powerfull maner, especially, to Gentlewomen.

Alex.

Sir, It must be my love to you that must inspire me: but I promise you, I will strive to speake my best.

Sir, I am confident in you, and at your re­turne [Page 90] from my Mistris, I will prepare thankes for this great peece of service, and rest, yours obliged.

Clor.

Sir, It is but my duty, I am happy to be imployed in any service that concernes you, suppose this done.

To court a Gentlewoman in the way of Marriage.

Eugenius.

MIstresse, I doubt not but that you will judge me as rash as bould: but I beseech your divine beautie which glittereth in your faire eyes, to excuse my audacity, and to pardon my temeritie, which have emboldened mee to come and present unto you my most humble and most affectionate service.

Calia.

Sir, I am very sorry that I have not the honour to know you: and I mervaile that you will offer service to mee, that of all am most unworthy.

Eugenius.
[Page 91]

Mistris, It is the sweetnesse of your natu­rall goodnesse that causeth you to speake in this sort.

Calia.

Pardon mee Sir, I speake nothing but I know to be most true.

Eugenius.

Lady, This singular modestie which I see to the life expressed in your words, gives me a hope that you will entertaine my intentions not as harsh and disconsonant, but as agreeable and consonant, and that in time I shall obtaine some one of your favours and graces.

Calia.

Sir, if there were any graces in me, they were yours: but I have not any, you can expect none.

Eugenius.

Mistris, It is that, which obligeth mee to a greater estimation of you, and makes you more amiable, and mee more affectionate to­wards you: so also J beseech you to beleeve that my intentions were never otherwise than chast and vertuous, and that I never had any other end than honesty. Did you thinke me to have framed some designe prejudicious to [Page 92] your honours. J had rather loose my being, than entertaine any such thought: so also is it my resolution for ever to continue your most faith­full and obedient servant, as the effects shall make it evident that the proofe thereof shall manifestly appeare whensoever your commands shall call upon me.

Calia,

I humbly thank you Sir with my best af­fection; as also for the paines you have ta­ken for one that no way merits such fa­vours, I being your very humble servant.

Eugenius.

Lady, It is I that am so deepely engaged to you, that I am disenabled to quit my selfe of the obligation, and therefore (most faire Mi­stresse) I beseech and conjure you to make use of my service and me, in whatsoever you shall judge me capable to serve you. And in the meane time after a million of recommendations J will be bold to take my leave of you, and will leave my heart with you as an astage and pledge of my fidelity and constancy.

Calia.

Farwell Sir, and I give you humble thankes for this your loving visit.

Eugenius,

[Page 93]I hope to see you againe and very speedily, where for the present I must leave you.

Calia.

Sir, So farre as your intentions shall con­tinue good, and your suits lawfull, you shall alwayes finde our dores open, and also to Gentlemen like your selfe, who shall not want our best entertainement according to our best possibility, and in that regard you shall no oftner come then be welcome.

Eugenius.

Lady, J do assure you that I now goe to elon­gate my selfe from my bright day, and confine my selfe into an abisse of melancholy darknesse: for I dare be bold to protest unto you, that with­out you, I enjoy no light of day, and there­fore all the time of this sad absence will be so tedious to mee, that moments will bee houres, the houres dayes, and the dayes will be ages, un­lesse it be so that the experience of being in your favour will be my sole consolation, and with that I will arme my selfe with a resolute pa­tience.

Calia.

You speake strong lines Sir, but it may be you are not so passionate as your words pretend. Farewell Sir, till our next mee­ting:

Eugenius.
[Page 94]

Mistris, you doe a wrong to your beauty, and to my love which is faithfull and loyall: but I hope that time will make me appear more large­ly to be what I am, and seeing necessity con­straines me to retire from you, J will never re­treat from my affection which your faire eyes have darted into my soule. And so Lady adieu till my next review, which I assure you shall be my soonest possible.

To present somthing to a friend.

Alex.

SIR, I have alwayes had an earnest desire to make my service visible unto you, and therefore I am bold to present unto you this Ring; desiring you, not to value the gift, but the affection of the giver, who doth sacrifice this unto you, from the Altar of an humble heart.

A.

Sir, This is an addition to your many o­ther favours, you are mindfull of me above my merit; how shall I make you requitall?

A.

Sir, Your acceptance thereof is the chiefe ayme of my desires; I would have you thinke, that true love uses by dumbe signes and tokens to expresse it selfe.

A.

Sir, Beleeve mee, so rich a gift as this [Page 95] hath a most powerfull language: if it had been meaner, it would have sufficed me, who must rest beholding unto you, till I have opportunity to declare my selfe farther.

A.

Sir, It is your worthines that makes it appeare so worthy: but I know no gift can be above your merit, nor sufficient to de­clare in what ties of observance I am bound unto you: your acceptation gives it more lustre and richnesse then the Ring doth de­serve, being but a meane token of my affe­ction.

A.

Sir, J beseech you doe not extenuate your selfe, nor it.

A.

Sir, This Ring is but the embleme of my service, which since you are pleased to receive, I must give you many thankes for your acceptance.

A.

Sir, Jt is easie to perswade the receit of a thing of such value, but I will merit it as the oblation of my love.

A.

Sir, For that I must remaine eternally your constant, faithfull friend.

A.

Sir, I am yours in all respectfull servi­ces, to be commanded.

A.

Sir, You oblige me too much both in words and deeds, I am all yours.

To entreate a courtesie of a friend.

A.

SIr, as necessity hath no law, so it hath no shame; for, contrary to my dis­position, I must become an importunate Su­ter unto you.

A.

Sir, Name it, it must be something more then I know of, which I can deny you, who are alwayes modest in your requests.

A.

Sir, I feare I shall give you no occa­sion to report the contrary, I would desire you to lend me your Horse, to cary away a little treasure by Mooneshine.

A.

Sir, I doe not well understand you, pray interpret your selfe, and disguise not your mea­ning.

A.

Sir, I would desire you to dispense with mee, it is a matter that concernes me neare, I am to beare away the Vsurers Daughter, and cary her where shee shall re­maine private, till stormes be blown over; pardon me, that I have made you acquain­ted with my purpose.

Alex.

Sir, J will be ready to assist you, and [Page 97] since your fortune cannot proceed without my Horses legges, if he were the Muses Pegasus he shall be your servant, it is but to cary away a peece of live Venison, and that's a meane tres­passe; Cupid has enough in his Parke.

Aym.

Sir, I am glad you are so pleasant, and doe so well apprehend my intents. I was afraid, least my purpose being knowne, which was manifest in mee to deliver, I should have suffered repulse, and have beene blamed by you for my bold attempt.

Alex.

No, Sir, I doe account it in you a bravery of minde, that dare aspire to reach a fortune, and plucke the golden Apples of Hes­perides, watch't by the old Dragon the Ʋsu­rer: but I would not have you lose time in talke; I will bid the groome prepare my horse ready for your employment.

A.

Sir, The whole service of my life can­not requite your kindnes, for since you have granted this request so willingly, I shall owe my good fortune to your favourable as­sistance.

A.

Sir, I will pray that your attempt may be prosperous, for I shall rejoyce in your happinesse, as much as in mine owne; Therefore my good wishes shall bee your good Genius, to waite on [Page 98] you; while my Prayers solicite heaven, for your happy successe.

A.

Sir, You have exprest your selfe a no­ble friend; and when this businesse is past, all the study of my life shall be to shew my thankfulnesse to you.

Alex.

Sir, I desire nothing, but that you may thrive in your desires.

A.

Sir, Next my intended purpose, my chiefest glory and ambition is, to thrive in your favour.

Ʋpon his absence.

EVgenius,

I protest to you my fairest, that I could never have beleeved that the tor­ments of happines from our loves could have been so miserable; for I dare sweare to thee by those faire eyes the starres of my fortunes, that I dwelt with impatiency and sorrowes till I saw you.

Cos.

Is it possible Sir? surely I can hardly believe it.

Eugenius,

Mistris I beseech you to beleeve [Page 99] it if you please, for I assure you that I could no longer endure nor support the violence and troublesome tediousnes which I indured in the time of your so long absence, the object of my good and sole content being removed.

Cael.

Sir, It may very well be, for you seeme very passionate in your actions.

Eugenius,

I protest that it is unpossible for me to take any complacency in the world, but in that only that flatters my affection, and in the aspect of your rare forme and most excellent Beauty.

Cael.

Sir, It pleaseth you to terme it so; content your selfe in laughing at mee, as you may at one that injoyeth not the least glimpse of beauty in my selfe.

Eugenius,

Wherein my deerest, should you conceive so of me? J doe assure you with the bet­ter part of my soule, that I should be a mise­rable man, should I not really speake what my affections suggest as truth: know LADIE, that you see a man that is wholy yours, and desires not to live but for you, and to doe you service: but that which troubleth mee most [Page 100] is that of necessity I must absent my selfe from you upon a very urgent occasion, but I beseech you to beleeve and conceive so of me that whi­ther soever J goe, I shall carry with mee the lively delineaments of your perfections, and that I shall not live but by the Idea of your beauty with perfect resolution of obeying you, and ther­fore my sweetest adieu for a while, for the pre­sent to have mee excused that I cannot injoy the felicity of your most desired company, but must take my leave so abruptly.

C.

Sir, I infinitely thanke you, and bid you also adieu, wishing you a safe returne.

A merry Discourse between Rowland and Susan, sitting up late together.

ROw.

It is time, Susan, that I should now discover my minde unto you, we have beene long servants together, and ever since my first comming, I have borne you good will, which I would desire you to ac­cept, and grant me your love.

Susan.

For that you must pardon me, for J doe not intend to marry, and therefore let that [Page 101] serve for an excuse, since I would be loth to dis­courage you, and say, I cannot love you.

Row.

I hope you will not, for since I first beheld you, I have admired your perfecti­ons.

Susan.

You know, affection cannot be com­pel'd; therefore I thanke you for the good will which you have hitherto borne me, but as for your love, I cannot accept of it.

Row.

Then I perceive you love some other.

Susan.

I desire you to excuse me, I cannot frame my minde to fancy you, though I know you deserve my betters; but for mee to settle affection where I cannot love, would bee an end­lesse misery: the Bryer and Honey-suckle can­not well agree.

R.

Then you compare me to a Bryer, but I will with all humility put up your dis­daine, hoping that the continuance of my love shall soften your mind, to receive me into some degree of favour, for I protest, I love you entirely.

S.

The utmost I can doe for you in requi­tall of your love, is, to give you thankes, and counsell to suppresse your desire, and not to pro­ceed any farther in this sute, which at last will become fruitlesse.

R.
[Page 102]

I should be sorry then: by this kisse which I presume to take, none hath power over me but your selfe, I love you all over, and if you would licence my heart to stray about, how happy should I be?

S.

Nay, then I perceive your love is but a rash and wanton desire; neither can I stay with you any longer, least my absence out of my Mi­stresses Chamber might breed some suspition.

R.

Stay, I will hold you in the prison of my armes, and if you will get your free­dome, you shal yeeld me some of your sweet­est kisses, which are but shaddowes of that substantiall happinesse which you could af­ford me.

S.

Nay, pray be not rude, nor give mee cause to suspect that your love is dishonest, I had formerly better opinion of you, but now I am jealous of your good intent.

R.

Pardon mee, if love have made me of­fend in some boysterous actions.

S.

Come pray let me be gone, I shall be an­gry if you hinder me.

Row.

Well then, I obey your desire, but let me prevaile farther with you at our next meeting.

An Enterchange of Ceremonies at parting with a friend taking a long journey.

SIr, I am very sorry that my affaires doe compell me to take my leave of you, from whom I have received so many benefits, which have bound me in many tyes ever to serve you, neither have I any way left to satisfie my selfe in requiting your former kindnesses, but to acknowledge them farre above my requitall, and to desire you, that you would both receive the tender of my humble service, and command me in some­thing, whereby I might expresse how much I honour your desert.

Sir, I cannot choose but grieve that you must now bee divided from us, by a tedious journey; yet since he loves himselfe better than his friend, that will not yeeld to any thing for his good, I am content in that regard to loose your compa­ny a while, wishing you both a prosperous jour­ney, and that in your absence you would re­member me, who will alwayes in my daily pray­ers sollicite heaven for your safe returne, desi­ring [Page 104] to be excused for your poore entertainment, which perhaps makes you desirous to be gone.

Sir, Pardon me, the entertainment I have found, was farre above my desert, for which I render you a million of thankes. There re­maines nothing now, but that you honour me with your commands.

Sir, I intreate you make not so great haste to be gone.

Sir, I could willingly defer my journey, to enjoy your company; but the winde stands faire for France, therefore let us con­clude all Ceremonies.

Sir, Since we must dispense with your depar­ture, I pray doe us the courtesie to revive our drooping mindes, with the good tydings of your safe arivall in France.

Sir, Be assur'd I cannot be unmindfull of you, nor of my other friends, to whom I pray you to commend mee, since I cannot take my leave of them all in particular.

Sir, J am glad you will doe mee the fauour to give me any imployment in your absence, I will performe your desire.

Sir, I can but thanke you, and for your love in bringing me to my Shippe, which is a trouble, that you would take upon you, [Page 105] though on my part undeserved.

Sir, I am happy to serve you in any thing, God send you a prosperous journey.

Sir, I doubt not but I shall arive in safe­tie, trouble your selfe no farther, since I can­not remaine with you to requite your kind­nesse.

Sir, Since you will needs have it so, I will bid you, farewell, with all the affection of a con­stant friend.

To invite one to dinner.

Alex.

PRay let mee prevaile so much with you, to entreate your company to dinner.

Clorin.

Sir, I humbly thanke you for your courtesie, but my businesse will not permit; therefore I desire to be excused.

Alex.

Nay good, Sir, Let me not be denyed, I must confesse indeed your cheare will not bee worthy of your stay; but you shall be heartily welcome.

Clorin.

Sir, I would willingly obey your desire, but I feare to be too bold.

Alex.
[Page 106]

Sir, You shall be most welcome; you shall command in my house as in your own.

Clori.

Your offer is so large and courte­ous, that I must yeeld to waite on you, for you have overcome me in ceremony; but you will draw upon your selfe much trou­ble.

Alex.

Sir, You will finde but course fare, but such as it is, pray esteeme your selfe most heartily welcome, and in a reall manner without complement.

Clori.

Sir, Here is much plenty, and you wrong your selfe to excuse your fare, where­of there is so great abundance, that unlesse you would have provided all the variety that was in Noah's Arke, I know not how it could be mended.

Alex.

It is your favour to commend and accept of any thing, but pray excuse me, once more I desire it: if I had beene certaine of your honouring my house with your presence, I would have made better preparation for your enter­tainment.

Clori.

Sir, I desire you rather to excuse my boldnesse, in putting you to so much trouble, you may perceive that I thinke my selfe welcome by my liberall feeding: I am [Page 107] no mincing Bride, whose thoughts of eating are tooke away with the conceite of the night following.

Alex.

I beseech you spare not, J am glad to see you so pleasant, and to increase your mirth, I will drinke to your health in wine, in hope you will pledge me.

Clor.

Sir, They say there is truth in wine, and if there be truth in wine, I will finde it out, let the health bee nere so deepe.

Alex.

Thanke you for doing mee this peece of justice: pray see if you can make a homely Dinner, otherwise J know not how to be excu­sed for inviting you.

Clori.

Sir, To decline ceremony, you have most worthily feasted me, and honou­red mee so much, that I must ever acknow­ledge your exceeding bountie and courtesie.

Ceremonies at sitting downe at the Table.

Alexander.

GEntlemen, Pray take your places, I know not how to direct you. But first let us wash.

Gentlemen.

Pray begin, for it is fit that we should fol­low you.

Alexander.

In this matter, Ceremonies are needlesse; but you will doe nothing without my ex­ample, and therefore I will begin.

Gentlemen.

Then in obedience to your desire, we will wash with you.

Alexander.

I beseech you Gentlemen, to save me a la­bour, and take your places.

Gentlemen.

Sir, Wee expect your sitting downe, and af­terwards, we will not contend much for priori­tie of place.

Alexander.
[Page 109]

Come, M. Getting, you are my old ac­quaintance, you shall favour me to sit here by me.

Gentleman.

By no meanes, that is not my place, heres a Gentleman deserves to be seated there.

Alexander.

Sir, I have designed you this place, pray let me rule so farre.

Gentleman.

Sir, J should bee loth to be too troublesome, and yet J would not presume before my betters.

Alexander.

Sir, You are too full of excuse, you may yeeld to take your due place, otherwise I should wrong you.

Gentleman.

Sir, I beseech you then to excuse me, and ac­count it your fault, if J transgresse the bounds of manners, in assuming a place farre above my desert, and which is of right belonging to these other Gentlemen.

Alexander.

We might have spar'd this ceremony, for the appetite loves good dainties better than Complements Now pray serve your selves, [Page 110] you are kindely welcome.

Gentlemen.

Sir, Wee will not put you to any trouble in helping us, we know that manners will allow us to make a dinner, we come to trespasse on you.

The Feasters excuse to his friend, after dinner.

Alex.

Sir, I desire you to excuse your meane fare, and slender entertaine­ment, whereunto I have presumed much to invite you; but I hope our ancient acquain­tance, and your owne good nature will pro­cure me a pardon, in that I have done this only to enjoy your company and society, for your good discourse is to me a feast, farre ex­ceeding any fare that I could provide for you.

Friend,

Your reall kindnes hath bin such and so unexpected, that I cannot give you sufficient thankes for your courtesie and kinde entertain­ment: all that I can render, is to promise, that I will snatch an opportunity to expresse my grati­tude.

Alex.

You have honoured me enough, in [Page 111] your acceptance of my good will. But it is not good to stir suddenly after dinner. Let's talke, you are conversant abroad, what newes doe you heare?

Friend,

Pardon me, Sir, the world runs a­bout mee while I stand unmov'd, never marking the motion thereof, and therefore I am altoge­ther ignorant in Novelties, it may be you heare more.

A.

Indeed Sir, I have so many affaires, that I can enquire after none, I thought you could have given us some good intelligence.

Friend.

Sir, I desire you to excuse me, for I hold it a fruitlesse imployment, but yet to satisfie your request, if I knew any fresh newes, that were not yet in print, J will be bold to tell you some­what, since you desire it.

A.

I will not importune you any far­ther, but desire your pardon, that I should impose on you the office of a Taleteller: ex­cuse my intent therein, since what I desire, was to passe away the time while we sit: but now, if you please, we will rise.

Friend.

Sir, Then I must really thanke you, you have made me bold with you, J will accom­pany you a while to the fire, and then take my leave.

To offer service to a young Maid.

AYM,

Seeing you are alone, I would offer you to attend on you, if you would accept of my service.

Mayd.

It is more than J desire, or deserve; and it would appeare boldnesse in me to accept of a strangers company.

It is not for me to accept all shewes and offers of kindnesse, I can but thanke you for your good will, I am not farre distant from my owne home.

Aym.

Pray let me beare you company, and by the way make me happie in some discourse, resolve mee one question; Were you never in love?

Mayd.

Though it be no manners to an­swer one question, with demanding ano­ther; yet I will presume to aske you, If you were never in love?

Aym.

Faire one, from thence springs my un­happinesse, I am too forward in these desires, J have beheld many beauties, but you have pre­vailed more than the rest, to conquer my affe­ction; [Page 113] and I must acknowledge, that in meeting you, I have met death, or life.

Mayd.

Pray speake in plaine tearmes, I am ignorant of your meaning.

Aym.

I desire you then to know and be­leeve, that I am already farre in love with you, and I hope you will not scorne my suddaine mo­tion, if I should desire you to reward my love with your favour; and by the way, let me en­treate you, to thinke that heaven had appointed our strange accidentall meeting and gave mee boldnesse to petition your favour and affection, which I hope you will grant.

Mayd.

Sir I know not in this case how to give an answer, that may procure your content, but I desire you importune mee no farther, but grant me time to consider your motion, this is my Fathers house, whither, if please you to come hereafter, I will study to resolve you, howsoever you shall be wel­come.

Aym.

But before I lose your presence, which is my chiefe happinesse, let me tell you, that when you goe in, you beare away my heart with you, and I shall onely languish in sorrow, tell I visit you againe.

Mayd.

Pray, Sir, doe not hold me lon­ger [Page 114] in discourse, there are many jealous eyes that doe watch an occasion to make me censured for maintaining with you such unusuall familiari­tie; pray, as you tender my credit, leave me.

A.

I must obey, honour me with an or­dinary salutation, and I will vanish like a shadow, that will returne again to wait on you, who are the substance of my life.

To confer with a Widdow in an amorous wooing manner.

AYm.

I would entreate you (faire Wid­dow) not to discourage mee in my first sute, since your modesty and vertuous cariage in your Husbands life time, hath made mee bold to plead for affection; and to cherish a certaine hope, that I shall obtaine my desire.

Widdow.

Sir, I would not have you imagine, that my love to my former Hus­band was written on a Table booke, the Letters whereof may bee soone wiped out againe; no, it was engraved upon my [Page 115] heart, and there doth remaine to informe mee that I ought not to wrong him with a second marriage.

Aymwell.

Nay, Widdow, I must ac­knowledge you have a faire pretence to put mee off, with the remembrance of your said Hus­band, but will you alwayes punish your selfe, and fast from the joyes of marriage?

Wid.

It is my full resolved purpose, and therefore let not any wanton opinion con­cerning me, give you hope of obtaining my love; Alas! Since his departure, I am dead unto the world, and doe but only live, to sigh, when I remember that I had so good a Husband.

Aym.

His goodnesse is gone with him, but for my part, I will be your living active servant; come, come, put off griefe and false imaginati­ons of honouring the dead, for if his soule were capable of any knowledge, concerning earthlie matters, it would rejoyce to see you happily mar­ried, and as hee gave you all contentment in his l fe time, so he would desire that you might bee supplyed in the same kinde after his death.

Wid.
[Page 116]

You speake unhappily, but pray be satisfied that I intend not to marry, yet I re­spect your good will, and other matters will remaine ready to requite your love.

Aym.

For other matters I am satisfied, but your love is the mark whereat I aime, why should you thus strive to become a virgin againe, and forget the conceit of former pleasures, which are yet fresh in your remembrance; fie, fie, you doe not well to make your selfe so dull of ap­prehension, I am come to offer service in the right kind, and therfore you are very much too blame, to refuse the tender of my labour.

Widdow,

You speake mysteries; but I de­sire if you love me, shew it in ceasing to pro­secute your sute; for I must tell you plainly, it will prove fruitlesse, and of none effect.

Aymwell,

I cannot beleeve, but that I shall bee more fortunately happy to obtaine your fa­vour; words are not alwaies the interpreters of the heart, and I am confident, for all this, that you love me.

Widdow,

Perswade your selfe to it, but I shall never give you cause to thinke so, yet I will ever respect you, and be ready to doe you any usuall courtesie.

Aymwell,

Well I thanke you that I have [Page 117] so farre thrived in my sute; I hope hereafter to get deeper into your favour.

Wid.

Your hope is built upon a false foun­dation, and had I knowne your intent, I would not have held discourse with you so long; I must leave your company.

Aymwell,

Let me rather take my leave of you, and seale a kisse upon your lippe untill I vi­sit you again, for no mortall Widdow shall dis­courage me, but I will come again about that busines.

To excuse some offence to a Gentlewoman.

AYmwell,

I must acknowledge I was somewhat too bold to enforce a kisse from you, in the presence of other friends; but I pray excuse my passion, and let your mercy be shewed in pardoning, as my folly was in offending.

Pen.

Sir, It was so great a trespasse, and so directly aym'd against my white fame and repu­tation, that no repentance can satisfie for a fault of that nature.

Aym.

It cannot exceed the limits of for­givenesse, or if your wrath cannot be other­wise satisfied, enjoyne me some penance, as [Page 118] great as your anger, whereby I may recover your lost favour, and make it appeare, how sorry I am for committing so rash an offence.

Penelope:

Nay, you may enjoy that kisse vio­lently tooke from mee before so many witnesses; but never any more.

Aym.

I must confesse it was my rashnesse, but if you will that I repay it back againe, I will give you interest for that one, and vow unto you, never to offend your patience in the like kind.

Penelope.

Well, since you are so willing to repent, and to shew unfained sorrow, I must needs accept them for present satisfaction, desiring you hereafter to be more carefull of my credit, and never againe to make so bold an offer.

Aym.

You have charmed mee to obedi­ence, since your words are a law, which I dare not transgresse, for I am in all things, your obedient servant.

The Lovers farewell.

Leonora.

ALas! Sir, is this the houre then, when the severe rigour of your absence must eclipse my dayes of their bright beames? Oh how this sad newes doth fire my spirits! and not without reason, since you to whom I had wholly consecrated my selfe, will not deigne a mercifull eye on my sufferings for your absence.

Florestan.

Mistris, Feare not, but rest assu­red, that so long as life will give mee leave to enjoy the Suns brightnesse, never shall any other have power over me; doe me onely the favour, that having given you these new assurances of my fidelity, you will bee pleased to render mee some reall promises of yours. Besides, I protest to you, Lady, I will never acknowledge any o­ther light then yours, no more than the Earth doth other then the Suns.

Leon.

Sir, They are no false promises that I have made you, but true assurances, [Page 120] drawne from my heart by the force of my passion. And know, that all things here be neath shall sooner change their naturall in­clinations, then in me shall be seene any al­teration from the resolution I have made to love you: heaven it selfe shall be my witnes.

Florestan:

If Mistris, you love mee thus, let your minde bee confident of an equall troth from mee; and should you doubt of my affecti­ons, I will give you my soule for pledge, and my heart for sacrifice, to shew you that my words are unfained, I pray you therefore accept of this small gift, not as a thing worthie of merit, but onely as a sufficient testimony of my good will, fidelity, and faithfull love towards you; and being a thing so small and unworthy of you, it will therefore be the more commendable in you to accept of it.

Leonora.

Sir, I give you infinite thanks, and withall doe beseech you also to receive this in requitall, for a remembrance of me, which is of small value, but be mov'd to take it in good part from her, who from hence­forth, shall not live but through your sole remembrance.

Flor.

Thanks to you, sweetest, the gift tru­ly is pleasing to me, but the giver much more.

Leoner.
[Page 101]

But, Sir, Is there, no meanes to stay you for a little time, that I might enjoy your presence, which stands me in stead of light and life, therefore your absence will envelope me with darknesse, and bring up­on mee (poore soule that I am) a thousand grievous deaths.

Florest.

Mistris, I hope, not so, for I am constrained through necessitie of my businesse to depart hence.

Leon.

Oh, I see now too well, that that constancy of yours, which I trusted to for remedy of my troubled thoughts, is vani­shed, to give present vent to my plaints, which you shall receive with my sighs and teares for true and burning testimonies of the sorrow I have to see my selfe about to be forsaken by him, by whom only I breath.

Flor.

Mistris, I sweare to you, my heart is alike touch'd with such strokes for this our parting, that I can hardly breath for griefe of it, and doe already see I have lost my eye sight, in the losse of the sight of your Star-like beau­tie. For sure I am, that once absent from your luminous aspect, each pleasure will be to me a subject, of griefe and sorrow. However, since [...]t will now be no otherwise, J shall so part with [Page 122] you, as that my will shall never depart from your service. Therefore farewell, deare Mistris, live still happie and content whilst I languish, unhappie though constant: let not that my re­motenesse alter your mind, no more than it shall shake the resolution I have long since made to live and die yours; for, for mine owne part, I shall not thinke my selfe absent from you, so long as I shall keep a room in your heart and memory.

Leo.

Farewell, Sir, you possesse my soule; and I doe even leave it in your power con­serving it for a more happie season then this of parting: in the meane space, have pitty on all the bloudy griefes which the meere ap­prehension of your absence makes me already feel so vehemently, for I think it very strange to leave him, whose company is dearer to me then my life. But to make an end of this dis­course; I do beseech you, Sir, and even con­jure you, by the sweetnes of that love I have borne you, and will all my life long devote to you, for my cruell feares, to write often to mee, during the unhappie time of your ab­sence: for in reading your Letters, I shall per­swade my selfe that I am not wholly depri­ved of you.

F.

I vow to you, Mistris, I will give you so [Page 123] many Letters, for confirmation of my loyaltie, and the love I beare you, that you shall have no cause to distrust. And so J pray God to make you the happiest alive; even as hee hath made you the fairest, & most accomplished: & that he also give you the grace, to conserve me in your most desired favour, that I may be able continually to witnesse, how violent my affection is towards you.

L.

Heaven grant you may be as faithfull to me, as I am to you; and give you as much quiet and contentment, as you take from me. But what should I say more? I must cease remembring you of the force and heate of my affection, and entreat you to pitie my martyrdome, and that wheresoever you are, you will bee mindfull of me. And so once more, I pray God grant you such prosperi­ties, that your fortunes may parallel your perfections.

F.

Rest assured, sweet Mistris, to bee belo­ved, though not equall to your merit, to whose height it is impossible my affection can raise it selfe.

Questions with their answers resolving the doubts of Lovers.

QVest. What is Love?

Answ. It is the receptacle of pensive mindes, a passion that binds the spirits.

Quest. What is the greatest recompence a woman can make a man?

Answ. To reveale to him her secrets, and make him Lord over her body.

Quest. How must a man behave himselfe a­mongst Ladies?

Answ. He must be bold and hardy.

Quest. Why is Love painted blinde?

Answ. Because the actions of love can­not be hid or dissembled.

Quest. Why be the secrets of Love so easily kept?

Answ. For the great sweetnesse men find in them.

Quest. Who is most secret in the sports of Love?

Answ. Women, since it so neerely touches their modesty.

[Page 125]Quest. What is the meat of perfect Lovers?

Answ. Sighes and teares.

Quest. Why have old men the repulse of young women?

Answ. Because they have not wherewith to ease them of their griefe.

Quest. Why doe Lovers wax pale?

Answ. From the passions of the mind.

Quest. Why doe they picture Cupid with wings?

Answ. Because the desires of Lovers doe tend alwayes to high things.

Quest. Why do Lovers write amorous son­nets one to another in Rime?

Answ. Because Poetrie is the friend of Love.

Quest. Why do women love them most dear­ly that had their maiden heads?

Answ. Because by the conjunction of the men they gaine perfection.

Quest. Wherefore are amorous women more ticklish then others.

Answ. Because their skins are most loose, soft and delicate.

Quest. How cometh it to passe that women newly maried the first night are so loth to goe to bed, and rise the next day so lusty and joyfull.

[Page 126] Answ. It proceeds from the perfection of the man, which they having acquired to themselves, they then know they are wo­men indeed.

Quest. Why doe men kisse the eyes of them they affect?

Answ. Because they were the first begin­ners of Love.

Quest. Why doe many love fervently, yet are not beloved againe?

Answ. By reason their complexions can­not agree.

Quest. Why should wee not place our loves on tho [...]e that be so young?

Answ. Because they are so inconstant and evermore curious of new servants.

Quest. How comes it that hee that is soone taken with love doth soone forget it.

Answ. He is like one who rides a galop, and by and by, waxeth weary.

Quest. Why do men say that Love is a per­fect musitian?

Answ. Because he tuneth the spirits that before had no agreement.

Quest. What is the greatest pleasure that a true lover can feele?

Ans. To thinke that he is borne to serve and please his Lady.

[Page 127]Quest. Wherefore be all things more dispo­sed to love in the spring time, then in any other seasons?

Answ. Because then the humours doe move themselves and the bloud doth wax hot.

Quest. Wherefore are the Angers of Lo­vers of so little continuance?

Answ. Because they fall out for trifles.

Quest. Wherefore doe the Ancients paint Love with flowers in one hand and fish in ano­ther?

Answ. To shew that Love is Lord both of Sea and Land.

Quest. Why are men rather Amorous then women?

Answ. Because they are of hotter com­plexions, and their spirits are more quicke and prompt.

Quest. Wherefore be all the joyes of Lovers uncertaine?

Answ. Because in Love are divers casu­alties, Iealousie, suspition, anger, peace, dis­daine.

Quest. Why is it that secret Love is more burning then that which is discovered?

Answ. Because in the one a fire doth con­sume [Page 128] but in the other a friend doth give ad­vice to quench the flames.

Quest. Whether is more constant in Love, the man or the woman?

Answ. The man being both of body and spirit more firme.

Quest. Wherefore have Lovers feeble voyces?

Answ. Out of the feare they have to dis­please their Ladies.

Quest. Wherefore is it that a man being touched with Love cannot rid himselfe of that passion by any dexterity?

Answ. Because a certaine sweet motion doth transport him to the thing he desires, and with a certaine admiration winds him into the nets of Love.

Quest. Wherefore are Lovers for the most part ready to weep?

Answ. Because by nature they are sacre­full, suspitious, Iealous and alwaies troubled.

Quest. Why be women so prone to yeeld to Love?

Answ. Because nature hath indued them with a delicate touch, with complexions hot and moyst, things most requisite for the recreations of Venus.

Complementall and Amorous POEMS.

Encomions on the Beauty of his Mistresse.

FAirer then Isacks Lover at the well,
Brighter then inside Barkes of new hewen Cedar;
Sweeter then flames of fire perfumed with Mirrhe,
And comelier then The silver Clouds that dance,
On Zephires wings be ore the King of heaven:
Tis she doth teach those Torches to burne bright,
It seemes she hangs upon the cheeke of night;
As a rich Iewel in the Ethiopes Eare,
Beauty too rich for use, for Love more deare.
So showes a snowie Dove trooping with Crowes,
As this my Mistris, ore her fellowes showes.
Since her whole bodyes frame hath power to have moved,
The chast Hippolitus her to have loved.
In summe her parts are white as Milke,
As smooth as Ivory, and as soft as Silke.
O who can her perfections tell
In whom alone all graces dwell?

On her Haire.

HEr Haires reflex with red strakes paints the skies,
Stars fall to fetch fresh Lustre from her eyes.
Whilst that those golden threds play with her breath,
Shewing lifes triumph in the map of death.

On her Lockes.

HEr lockes being plated like a fleece of wooll,
Are full of sweets, as sweet of sweets is full.

On her forehead.

HEr stately front was figured from above.
Majesticke faire well polisht high and pale,
Pure white that dims the Lillies of the Vale.

On her face.

HEr face like Cinthiaes when in full she shineth,
And blushing to her Love mates bowres declineth
Such brightnesse hath her Angels face,
Can make a sunne-shine in a shady place.

On the colour of her face.

SVch colour hath her face, as when the Sun,
In Summer his first rising hath begun.

On her eye-browes and Cheeks.

EAch eye-brow hangs like Iris in the skies,
On either Cheeke a Rose and Lilly lyes.

Another on her eye-browes and breath.

HEr bright Browes drive the sunne to clouds beneath,
Sweet morne and evening dew fals from her breath.

On her eye-Liddes.

FOr Arches be two heavenly Liddes,
Whose winkes each bold attempt forbids.

On her eyes.

HEr eyes the contradictors of the night,
Like Marigolds, unsheath their glorious light.

Another on the same.

TWo Ietty sparkes where Cupid chastly hides,
His subtile shafts that from his quiver glides.
Piercing the brests of others yet they be
Vnhappy, since themselves they cannot see.

On her smiles.

HEr smiles so sweet and nice,
On earth doe make a heavenly Paradise.

On her Cheekes.

HEr Cheeks like ripened Lillyes steep'd in Wine,
Or gorgeous Clouds upon the sinnes decline.

Another on the same.

HEr Cheeks with kindly Claret spred,
Aurora-like new out of bed.

On her Nose and breath.

HEr Eagles Nose is strait of stately frame,
Her breath is sweet perfume of holy flame.

On her Chin.

HEr Cristall chin like to the purest white
Is Loves pavilion, and the boyes delight.

On her Eares.

ON these meanders if you gaze,
You soone will tread a Lovers maze.

On her Lippes.

HEr lips like Roses over-washt with dew,
Doe by her breath their beauties still renew.

On her Lippes and Necke.

HEr Lips more red then Corrall stone,
Her Necke's more white then aged swans that mone.
O who those ruddy lips can misse,
Which blessed still themselves doe kisse.

On her mouth.

SWeet mouth that sendest a musicke t [...]sied breath,
Whose every word darts me a living death.

On her mouth and teeth.

WIthin the compasse of this holow sweet,
Those orient rankes of silver Pearles doe meet.

On her breath.

SHe breathes forth flowers, she makes the spring,
Perfumes the aire and comforts every thing.

On her tongue and words.

HEr words doe fall like summer dewes on me,
Her tongue strikes musicke sweetest harmony.

On her teeth.

HEr lips nere part, but that they show,
Of precious pearle a double row.

On her Speech.

IN all her words such vertues couched be,
The learned thence fetch their philosophy.

On her voice.

A Voice which doth the thrushes shrilnesse staine,
And makes declining nature young againe.

On her Necke.

HEr Neck is like an Ivory shining Tower,
Or like delight that doth it selfe devoure.

On her Shoulders.

THese pearching squares with silver skin,
Doe passe the hate spot Ermelin.

On her Armes.

HEr Twin-like armes, that stainelesse paire,
Fit for a Kings embraces are.

On her Hands.

HEre azured vaines doe use to stray,
With pretty Cupids every way,
Moyst pearle warme snow smooth Ivory,
Within these strange compactes doe lye.

On her fingers.

LOng small made fit for Orpheus Lute,
Which made the savage tigers mute.

On her actions.

HEr deeds are like great clusters of ripe grapes,
Which load the bunches of the fruitfull Vine:
Offering to fall into each mouth that gapes,
And fill the same with store of timely wine.

On her breasts.

HEr brests those Ivory Globes circled with blew,
Save of their Lord no bearing yoake they knew.

On her Pappes.

HEr pappes are like faire Apples in their prime,
And from those sweets, Love suckes his summer time.

On her good thoughts.

HEr mindfull brest perfumes wich frankincense,
And sweetest odors every fainting sence.

On her waste and Ribbes.

FItly so named since it doth waste,
Mens lives untill it be embrac'd:
Her ribbes with white all armed be,
Compact with curious symmetrie.

On her skin, and flesh.

HEr lovely skin is white like Curdes new prest,
And snowie flesh is soft as wooll new drest.

On her Navell.

HEre Love delights the wandring thought,
Whilst that mine eyes astray are brought:
Since Nature here would faine unite,
In curious circles busie sight.

On her bellie.

MOst beauteous seale of Virgin wax,
Pittie tis still the impression lackes;
This place my sence with joy doth fill,
Since tis intitled Cupids hill:
From hence a seemely passage there doth flow,
To stranger pleasures that are plac'd below.

On her wombe.

HEr Maiden wombe the dwelling house of pleasure,
O blest is he may search that secret treasure.

On her thighes.

THese are the subjects that doe fit,
The Genius of an Ovids wit,
Whose hanches smooth as is the glasse,
The Albion cliffes in whitenesse passe.

On her knees.

THese knots of joy and gems of Love,
With motion makes all graces move.

On the calves of her legges.

MArke well how faire the flesh doth rise,
In her brave calves like christall skies.

On the small of her legges.

VIew but her Atlas smallest small,
More white then whitest bone of all.

On her feet.

HEr feet so short and slender little round,
On earth a finer paire cannot be found.

The conclusion.

THus every part impartes a grace,
And beauty dwels in every place.

Loves mouth.

MAy is not Loves month, May is full of flowers,
But dropping April, Love is full of showers.

Definition of Love.

LOve is a friend, a fire, a heaven, a hell,
Where pleasure paine and sad repentance dwell.

Love will out.

THe light of hidden fire it selfe discovers,
And love that is conceal'd betraies poore Lovers.

The parting of Lovers.

LOvers well wot what griefe it is to part,
When twixt two bodies liveth but one heart,
And Lovers say the heart hath double wrong,
When it is bard the assistance of the tongue.

The Inconstancy of Affections.

LOve well is said to be, a life in death,
That laughs and weepes, and all but in one breath.

The quality of Love.

LOve is a spirit all compact of fire,
Not grosse to sinke but light, and will aspire,

What Love is,

LOve is a golden bubble full of dreames,
That waking breakes and fils us with extreames.

Lovers delight to be alone.

LOvers best like to see themselves alone,
Or with their loves if needs they must have one.

Vowes of Lovers.

WE know not how to love, till love unblind us,
And vowes made ignorantly never bind us.

Impossibility of concealing Love.

THe sight of hidden fire it selfe discovers,
And love that is conceal'd betrayes poore lovers.

On one sick with Love.

VVHen Venus strikes with beauty to the quicke,
Few are the cares for such as are Love sicke.

The errors of Lovers.

ALL men doe erre because that men they be,
And men with beauty blinded cannot see.

What Love is.

LOve is a subtile influence,
Whose finall force still hangeth in suspence.

Love admits of no contrary arguments.

LOve hates all arguments disputing still,
For sence gainst reason with a sencelesse will.

What Love is.

LOve is a blinded god, an angry Boy,
A slave to beauties will, a witlesse toy;
A Ravening bird, a tyrant most unjust,
A private hell, a very Sea of lust.

Another definition of Love.

LOve is a soure delight, a sugred griefe,
A breach of reasons Law, a secret Thiefe,
A living death, an ever dying life,
A Sea of teares, an everlasting strife:
A bait for fooles, A scourge of noble wits,
A deadly wound, a shot which ever hits.

The Effects of Love.

THis is the least effect of Cupids dart,
To change the mind by wounding of the heart.

Cruelty of Love.

LOve is not full of mercy as men say,
But deafe and cruell where he meanes to prey.

The parting of Lovers.

LOve goes to Love as schoole boyes from their books,
But love from love towards Schoole with heavie looks.

A Maxime.

TIs folly by our wisest worldlings proved,
If not to gaine by love to be beloved.

The Constancy of Lovers.

ONce learne to love, the lesson is but plaine,
And being learnt is never lost againe.

The Force of Love.

WEre beauty under twenty lockes kept fast,
Yet love breakes through, and picks them all at last.

Of Musike and Love.

AS without breath no pipe doth move,
No musicke's kindly without Love.

Love finds an opportunity.

WHen Love hath knit two hearts in perfect unity,
They seldome faile to find an opportunity.

Offers of Love not to be refused.

OCcasion's winged and ever flyeth fast,
Comming she smiles, and frownes once being past.

Patience of Lovers.

ONe may indure, for when the paine is past,
Reward though long it stay yet comes at last.

Sorrowes of Lovers.

SIghes are the ease calamity affords,
Which serve for speech when sorrow wanteth words.

Teares of Lovers.

SEld speaketh Love but sighs his secret pains,
Teares are his truch men, words do make him tremble,
Yet womens teares fall when they most dissemble.

On frozen affection.

THere where the hearts Atturny once is mute,
The Client breakes, As desperate of his suite.

Of true and false Love.

TRue Love's a Saint, so shall you true Love know,
False Love's a Scithian, yet a Saint in show.

The perseverance of a Lover.

DEsire being Pilot and bright beauties prize,
Who can feare sinking where such treasure lies?

The beginnings of Love.

FAire beauty is the sparke of hot desire,
And sparkes in time will kindle to a fire,

On Lust.

LVst makes oblivion, beateth reason backe,
Forgetteth shames pure blush and honors wracke.

On Virginity.

THe ripest Corne dies if it be not reapt,
Beauty alone is lost too early kept.

A cruell Mistris.

NOthing so ill becomes the faire,
As cruelty which yeelds unto no prayer.

On Coynesse.

A Way-ward beauty doth not fancy move,
A frowne forbids, a smile engendreth Love.

Another.

FAire words and power attractive beauty,
Brings men to wanton in subjective duty.

On Iealousie.

VVHere Iealousie in basest minds doth dwell,
Tis metall Vulcans Cyclops sent from hell.

On pleasures.

SOmething must still be left to cheare our sinne,
And give a touch of what should not have bin;
And they that know but pleasures price,
Alls one, a prison or a Paradise.

On Chastity.

THe unstained vaile which Innocents adorne,
The ungatherd rose defended with the thorne.

Another on the same.

PEnelope in spending chaste her dayes,
As worthy as Vlisses was of praise.

On the Court.

THither let Phoebus sons resort,
Where shines their Father but in loves great Court?

On her delaying mariage.

VVHere hearts be knit what helps if not to injoy;
Delay breeds doubts, no cunning to be coy.

On Desires.

VVHat can be said that Lovers cannot say?
Desire can make a Doctor in a day.

On Misfortunes.

THe man that still amidst misfortunes stands,
Is sorrowes slave and bound in lasting bands.

On fate.

THey fall which trust to fortunes sickle wheele,
But staid by vertue men shall never reele.

On disdaine.

IN high disdaine Love is a base desire,
And Cupids flames doe seeme but watry fire.

On the Power of teares.

TEares tye the tongue of an accusers grudge,
And soft the rigor of the sternest Iudge.

On Musicke.

MVsicke can hardly solace humane eares,
When strings are broke, and eyes are fill'd with teares

On Continued griefe.

DRops pierce the flint, not by their force or strength,
But by oft falling weares it out at length.

On Marriage.

MAides doe take more delight when they prepare.
And think of wives states then when wives they are.

On pleasures and griefes.

PLeasures like posting guests make but small stay,
Where griefes bide long and leave a score to pay.

On Youth.

YOuth learnes to change the course that he hath run,
When he perceives and knowes what age hath done.

On a modest faire one.

BEautie's a beggar, fye it is too bad,
When in it selfe sufficiency is had,
It was not made to please the wandring eye,
But an attire to adorne sweet modesty:
If modesty and women once doe sever,
Farewell our fame, farewell our name for ever.

On his Will.

IT lies not in my power to love or hate,
For will in me is over-ruld by fate.

On the losse of Virginity.

IEwels being lost, we find againe, this never,
Tis lost but once, and once lost, lost for ever.

On Women.

LEt Wolves and beasts be cruell in their kinds,
But women meeke and have relenting minds.

On coy dames.

HAte and disdaine is painted in their eyes,
Deceit and treason in their bosome lyes.

Inconstancy of women.

THey melt with words as wax against the sunne,
So weake are many womens modesties,
That what sometimes they most would seeme to shield,
Another time poore soules unaskt they yeeld.

Another on the same.

WOmen have tongues of craft and hearts of guile,
They will, they will not, hell is in their smile.

On Lust.

LVst never takes a joy in what is due,
But still leaves knowne delights to seeke out new.

On Virginity.

LIke untun'd golden strings faire women are,
Which lying long untoucht will harshly Iar.

Modesty of women.

THough men can cover crimes with their sterne looks,
Poore womens faces are their owne fault books.

On a womans teares.

A Womans teares are falling stars at night,
No sooner seene but quickly out of sight.

A Constant Woman.

COnstant in Love who tryes a womans mind,
Wealth, beauty, wit, and all in her doth find.

Passions of a Woman.

A Womans passions doth the fire resemble,
Never alike, they sinne if they dissemble.

On the finding of Beauty.

THe fairest flowers of beauty fades away,
Like the fresh Lillie in the sunne-shine day.

Another on the same.

FAire flowers that are not gathered in their prime,
Rot and consume themselves in little time.

On the power of Beauty.

THe Libian Lions loose their sternest might,
If of a beauteous face they once get sight.

Women envie one anothers Beauty.

IT is a common rule, that women never
Love beauty in their Sexe, but envie it ever.

On a Beauty cloisterd up.

THings much retaind doe make us most desire them,
And beauties seldome seene make us admire them.

On Beauty in meane attire.

IT is decreed that features shall content,
And that true beauty needs no ornament.

On Beauty not injoyed.

NEver were Cheekes of Roses, lockes of Amber,
Ordain'd to live imprisoned in a Chamber.

Beauties for the Court.

IN vaine our friends from this doe us dehort,
For beauty will be where is most resort.

Beauties not to be confined.

HEaven made Beauty like her selfe to view,
Not to be lockt up in a smoakie mew.
A Rosie tainted feature is heavens gold,
Which all joy for to touch, all to be behold.

On the excellency and power of Beauty.

BEauty brings fancy to a dainty feast,
And makes a man that else would be a beast.

The effects of Beauty.

BEauty in heaven and earth this grace doth winne,
It supples rigor, and it lessens sinne.

A wooing fit in verse.

HEE, Much adoe I have god wot,
I would love but thou wilt not.
She, Reason, Sir, Men are not true,
HE, Why was any false to you,
Sweetest I have lov'd thee long;
SHE, Yet Sir Love should doe no wrong.
HE, Prethee sweet come kisse me then,
SHE, No Sir, Maides must kisse no men.
HE, I the Heavens for witnesse crave,
SHE, They will shine cleere, though you'r a knave.
HE, Never loved a truer youth,
SHE, Men doe not alwayes speake the truth,
HE By all those vowes that Lovers use,
SHE, Thus they protest yet doe abuse.
And full oft maides are deluded,
When with kisses Love's concluded.

A discourse of Love in verse.

BEL,
When will Love be voyd of feares?
TEL,
When Ieaolusie hath neither eyes nor cares.
BEL,
When is Love most malecontent,
TEL,
When Lovers range and beare their bowes unbent.
BEL,
Tell me when Love is best fed,
TEL,
When it hath suckt the sweet that ease hath bred.
BEL.
[Page 151]
When is lovers time ill spent,
TEL.
When Love doth earne yet takes no rene,
BEL.
When is time well spent in Love,
TEL.
When deeds ensue, and words worke Love,
BEL.
What calst thou Love, I prethee tell,
TEL.
It is a fountaine and that well,
Where pleasure and repentance dwell.
It is a worke on holy day,
It is December match'd with May.
BEL.
I prethee faire one doe not faine.
TEL.
It is a sun-shine mixt with raine,
It is a tooth-ach or like game:
It is a yea, it is a Nay,
A pretty kind of sporting fray,
BEL.
Come, come, Ile heare no more, away.

Another short wooing fit in verse.

I.
SWeet soule to whom I vowed am a slave,
Let me the injoyment of my wishes have.
M.
Sweet Sir, Let not a wretch that is so poore,
Expect to hord up treasure for his store.
I.
Yet still take heed least thou thy selfe submit,
M.
To one that hath his wealth, but wants his wit.
I.
Prethee be silent, beauty takes in rent,
M.
But folly bought is worse then mony spent.
I.
Well for this once, Ile take thee as thou art,
M.
For richer for poorer agreed, mine owne sweet heart.

The feares and resolutions of two Lovers.

D.
WHat wouldst thou wish tell me deere lover,
S.
How I might but thy thoughts cover.
D.
If my firme Love, I were denying,
Tell me with sighes, wouldst thou be dying?
S.
Those words in jeast to heare thee speaking,
For very griefe this heart is breaking.
D.
Yet wouldst thou change? I prethee tell me,
In seeing one that did excell me?
S.
[Page 152]
O no, for how can I aspire,
To more than to my owne desire:
This my mishap doth chiefly grieve me,
Though I do swear't, you'l not believe me.
D.
Imagine that thou dost not love me,
But some beauty that's above me.
S.
To such a thing sweet doe not will me,
The naming of the same will kill me.
D.
Forgive me faire one, Love hath feares,
S.
I doe forgive, witnesse these teares.

The wooing of a coy Dame.

R.
THe cause my sweet thou dost deny,
M.
Because thou dost not please my eye.
R.
Thy reason why to me impart,
M.
Thou dost offend and grieve my heart.
R.
There is no heart so fierce and hard,
M.
Nor person of so small regard.
R.
The reason, doth thy Love controule,
M.
Thou dost torment my very soule.
R.
O Remedy my loving smart,
M.
Ile keepe such danger from my heart.
R.
Why dost thou thus thy beauty keepe?
M.
It will destroy it, Sir, to weepe.
R.
My passions dost thou mocke at too?
M.
Farewell Sir, without more t [...] doe.

A contention betweene a Wife, a Widow, and a Maide.

WIfe,
If to be borne a maid be such a grace,
So was I borne, and grac'd by nature too;
But seeking more perfection to embrace,
I did become a Wife, as others doe.
WID.
And if the Maid and Wife such honour have,
I have bin both, and hold a third degree,
Most maids are wards, and every Wife a slave;
I have my livery su'd, and I am free.
MAID,
That is the fault that you have maidens beene,
And were not constant to continue so,
The fals of Angels did encrease their sin;
In that they did so pure a state forgoe.
WIF.
Why marriage is an honourable state,
WID.
And widdow-hood is a reverend degree;
MAID,
But maiden-head that will admit no mate,
Like majesty it selfe must sacred be.
WIFE,
The wife is mistris of her family,
WID.
Much more the Widdow, for she rules alone:
MAID,
But Mistris of my own desires am I:
When you rule others wils, and not your own.
WIFE,
Only the Wife enjoyes the vertuous pleasure,
WID.
The Widow can abstaine from pleasures knowne,
MAID.
But the uncorrupted maid preserves such measure
As being by pleasures wo'd she cares for none.
WIFE,
The Wife is as a Diamond richly set,
MAID,
The mayd unset, doth yet more rich appeare;
WID.
The Widow a Iewel in the Cabinet.
Which though not worne is still esteem'd as deare.
WIFE,
The wife doth Love and is beloved againe,
WID.
The Widdow is awakt out of that dreame,
MAID,
The maids white mind hath never such a staine.
[Page 154]No passion troubles her cleare vertues stream,
WID.
Then what's a Virgin? but a fruitlesse bay,
MAID.
And what's a Widdow? But a roselesse bryer,
And what are wives, but wood-bindes which decay,
Yea stately Oakes, which by themselves aspire.
WID.
Wives are as birds in golden cages kept,
WIFE,
Yet in those Cages chearefully they sing,
WID.
Widdowes are birds out of those Cages lept,
Whose joyfull notes makes all the Forrestring.
MAID.
But Maids are birds amidst the Woods secure,
Which never hand could touch nor yet could take,
Nor whistle could deceive, nor baite allure,
But free unto themselves doe musicke make.
WIFE,
The Wife is as a Turtle with her mate,
WID.
The widdow as the widdow dove alone,
Whose truth shines most in her forsaken state.
MAID,
The maid a Phenix and is still but one.
WIFE
The wife's a soule unto her body tyed,
WID.
The widdow a soule departed into blisse,
MAID.
The mayd an Angell which was stellified,
And now to as faire a house descended is.
WIFE,
Wives are faire houses kept and furnisht well,
WID.
Widdowes old Castles void, but full of state.
M.
But maides are temples where the gods doe dwell.
WIFE,
An office well supplyed is like a wife,
WID.
The widdow like a gainefull office voyd,
MAID,
But maids are like contentment in this life.
Which all the world hath sought but none injoy'd.
MAID,
Goe wife to Dunmow, and demand thy hire
WID.
Goe gentle mayd, and lead the apes in hell,
WIFE,
Goe widdow make some yonger brother rich.
And then take thought, and dye, and all is well.
WIFE,
Alas poore maid, thou hast no helpe nor stay,
WID.
Alas poore wife that nothing dost possesse,
MAID,
Alas poore widdow, charity doth say,
Pittie the widdow and the father esse.
WIFE,
We wives have children, what a joy is this?
WID.
Widdowes have children too, but maids have none,
MAID.
No more have Angels, yet they have more blisse.
Then ever yet to mortall earth was knowne.
WIFE,
The wife is like a faire manured field,
WID.
[Page 155]
The widdow once was such, but now doth rest,
M.
The maid like Paradise undrest until'd,
Beares crops of native vertue in her brest.
W.
Who would not dye a wife as Lucrece did,
WID.
Or live a widdow as Penelope,
MAID.
Or be a mayd, and so be stellified,
As all the virtues and the graces be.
W.
Wives are like Apples serv'd in golden dishes,
WID.
Widdowes good wine which time maks better much.
M.
But maids are grapes desir'd by many wishes.
But that they grow so high as none can touch.
W.
I have a daughter equals you my girle.
M.
The daughter doth excell the mother then,
As pearles are better than the mother of pearle.
Maydes lose their value when they match with men.
A maids the perfect'st of created things,
The purest gold that suffers no Allay,
The sweetest flower that on earths bosome springs,
The pearle unbor'd, whose price, no pr ce can pay,
The Christ all glasse that will no venome hold,
The mirror where in Angels love to looke.
Dianaes bathing fountaine cleare and cold.
Beauties fresh rose, and vertues living booke.
W.
Maids cannot judge because they cannot tell,
What comforts and what joves in marriage be.
M.
Yes, yes, though blessed Saints in heaven doe dwell,
They doe the soules in Purgatory see.
W.
There never was a wife that like't her lot,
WID.
Nor widdow but was clad in mourning weeds,
M.
Doe what you will, marry, or marry not,
both this estate, and that repentance breeds,

A Lover and his Mistris.

LOver,
whilst thou didst love me, and that neck of thine
More white and soft then Roses silver downe,
Did weare a neck lace of no armes but mine;
I envied not the King of Spaine his Crowne.
MIST.
Whilst of thy heart, I was sole Soveraigne,
And thou didst sing none but my beauties praise;
Which now poore Maid thou dost so much disdaine,
I envied not the Queene of Englands fame.
LOV.
What though I sue to thee again for grace;
And sing thy praises sweeter than before,
If I within my heart imprint thy face,
Wilt thou love me againe, and love me more?
MIST.
Thou shalt be then againe my morning Star,
Though lighter yet then floting Cork thou be;
And then the Irish Sea more angry far:
With thee 'Ile wish to live and die with thee.

A Lovers discourse with his heart.

L.
SHee's cold, thou hot, how can we then agree,
H.
Not nature now, but Love doth governe me.
L.
What if her heart be hard, She stop her cares,
H
Ile sigh aloud, and make it soft with teares
L
Why then despaire, goe pack thee hence away,
H.
I live in hope to have a happie day.

A Discourse betweene a Lover, Death, and Cupid.

L.
Come gentle death. D. who calls?
L.
ones opprest,
D.
What is thy will?
L.
that thou abridge my woe;
By cutting off my life:
D:
cease thy request,
I cannot kill thee yet,
L:
Alas, Why so?
.D
Thou wantst thy heart.
L:
Who stole that same away?
D.
Love whom thou serv'st,
L:
Entreat him if thou may.
L.
Come Cupid, come.
C:
Who calleth me so oft,
L.
Thy Vassall true whom thou shouldst know by right,
C.
What makes thy cry so faint?
L:
My vo [...]ce is soft.
Quite broke and spent, with crying day and night.
C.
What then, What's thy request?
L:
that thou restore,
To me my heart and steale the same no more.
And thou O death, when I possesse my heart,
Dispatch me then at once.
D:
Alas, Why so?
L.
By promise thou art bound to end my smart.
D.
But if thy heart returne, then what's thy woe?
L.
That brought from frost, it never will desire,
To rest with me that am more hot then fire.

Vpon a scarfe presented.

TAke this scarfe, bind Cupid hand and foot,
So love must aske you leave before he shoot,

Ʋpon a paire of Sissers presented.

THese Sissers doe your house wifery bewray,
You love to worke though you are borne to play.

Vpon a looking-glasse presented.

BLind fortune doth not see how faire you be,
But gives a glasse that you your selfe may see.

Vpon a Fanne presented.

YOu loue to see, and yet to be unseene,
Take then this Fanne, to be your beauties skreene.

On a plaine gold Ring presented,

FOrtune doth lend you, hap it well or ill,
This plaine gold Ring to wed you to your will.

Vpon a paire of Bracelets presented.

LAdy, your hands are fallen into a snare,
For Cupids manacles these Bracelets are.

Complementall and amorous Letters. A Letter to renew affection.

ALthough I am assur'd I cannot dye,
In your remembrance, yet I feare least I
Am like a picture veiled from the light,
And so can yeeld no pleasure to the sight.
Letters are Cupids Bellowes that doe blow,
Lovers affections, untill they doe grow
Into a flame, these doe let Lovers find,
The absent bodies pleasures by the mind.
O let me then within your thoughts revive,
And though we are farre distant let us strive:
To meet in soule, Let love convey me to you,
But in a dreame, that I may set and woe you.
Till I doe meet againe by fates direction.
With you the Mistris of my hearts affection.

A Letter to perswade one to be Constant.

COnstant Love and vertue are,
In their qualities alike,
Both in darkest nights shine faire,
Like to stars which shoot and strike,
Through the skies so love will be,
Most knowne in sad adversity.
[Page 160]Therefore Love, keepe still one minde,
Instruct the world how to Love,
Though nature doth new changes find,
Like a center never move,
But while misfortunes doe turne round;
About thee, be thou constant found.
Love is like a sacred flame,
Which quench'd, can hardly be renew'd,
But is evermore the same,
Then let constancy be shew'd,
Virtue sets upon a square,
And constant friends still constant are.
Remember all our oathes and vowes,
The bond which I on thy lips sealed,
Heaven no perjury allowes.
False hearts shall be at length revealed,
Though place and time our hearts divide,
They in a true Loves knot are tide.

A Letter to a Maid from one that expected no portion.

IT is your beauty fairest, not the wealth,
Your father meanes to give you but your selfe,
That I doe court, you have a stock of beauty,
Which doth exact from me most humble duty.
You have a smiling eye, whose every beame,
Excels the glistring sands of Tagus streame.
You have a moyst smooth tempting cherry lip,
From whence great love himselfe may nectar sip,
Such a fresh colour in your Cheeke is spred,
That Roses blush for anger and looke dead,
To see themselves excel'd, white Lillies grow,
High colour'd, to thinke nature should bestow
Such beauties on you, with which to compare,
Floraes bright lustres but eclipsed are.
[Page 161]Since thy faire cheekes are but by them set forth,
This pale that blushing at thy admired worth.
A brow so high, so faire, thence day doth break,
When you doe wake, and when you please to speake,
The spheres stand still listning to heare,
Thy voyces harmony so sweet, so cleare,
That they doe mend, their tunes thereby,
To beare with thee a Sympathy.
Let wretched misers then their treasures lock,
Within their chests, I love thee in thy smocke.
Nay wert thou wrapt but in a linnen blanket,
Thy naked selfe could all my senses banquet.
Which to confirme, let but thy love be mine,
Heres heart and hand to witnesse, I am thine.

A Letter to excuse the not visiting a friend at ones departure out of Towne.

MY businesse doth ascribe this forc'd neglect,
Of visit, not to want of due respect.
But to the violence of my affaires,
That doe transport me hence to meet with cares.
And make me most unfortunate to be,
Deprived of your happy company.
But in my absence think I doe remaine,
Your servant till I doe returne againe.
Yours, I. G.

To a Sweet heart farre absent in the Country.

THe Country now is happier then the Citty,
Injoying thy sweet face which is so pretty,
That Hobnai [...]e fellowes staring doe gaze on thee,
As if thou wert some new come dietie.
Me thinkes I see thee looke beneath a hat,
Most sweet and lovely, and thou askest what,
In market is the price of this and that,
Then tripping home thou steppest ore each stile,
Which makes my fancy in conceit to smile,
O stile thinke I; thou wert in happy case,
If thou hadst my eyes or I had thy place,
Then comming home putst off thy cloathes againe,
And mak'st thy bed most happy to containe,
Thy pretty limbes and then I wish to be,
Your bed-fellow to beare you Company,
Farewell my dearest sweet heart, loveliest Lasse,
That dost in features, Ladyes far surpasse.

A Complementall Letter sent to a Lady.

MAdam since that you are both great and good,
More noble by your vertues then your bloud,
Whose titles only are the badge and seale
Of the soules worth, which actions best reveale.
Pardon the high ambition of my love,
That scorning meaner objects, or to move
In an inferior Orbe, below that Sphere,
Where faire resplendent Venus shineth cleare.
[Page 163]Doth thus advance, and raise it selfe to find
Beauty and vertue both in one conjoyn'd,
And since that my affection stands thus faire,
Built on a noble ground and on the square
Of vertue, this alone implyes, I am
No dung-hill borne, but a true Gentleman,
For never can a narrow mind possest,
With the opinion that low thoughts are best,
And easie in obtaining, hope to mount,
His love to any object of account.
Man doth not frame his owne mind, nor compose,
Those soft affections which from beauty flowes.
Love hath no golden arrow but the beames,
Shot from your eyes, the which the fond boy meanes
To shoot at Rovers, and since it chanst that I,
stood in the wav, whilst that his shafts did flye,
Sweet Lady look upon my wounded heart,
For Ladyes heretofore by physickes art,
Did heale those pilgrims whom religion drew,
To take great Iourneys, holy Saints to view;
This superstition made the world a baby,
But I am confident in you faire Lady:
That you can heare my prayers, and also cure,
The wound of love, whose torture I endure.
Then since that you can heare my just complaint,
Ile be a pilgrime to no other Saint.

A Letter to a Gentlewoman on a Sigh.

FAirest you desire to know
Why I so often sigh, Hi, Ho,
It is not to coole loves fire,
Every sigh doth raise it higher,
Nor is it to blow my flame,
Thereby to encrease my paine,
But to shew the reason better,
In my sigh marke every letter.
[Page 164]The first H. stands for your hard heart,
The I, stands for your eye my smart.
The other H. my heart doth show,
The O, the vowell is your no.
Thus your hard heart and beauteous eye,
And no, which doth my sute deny,
Are the cause why I doe breake
My heart with sighs which only speake
In a language knowne to me,
Thus interpreted to be.
And now you know the reason why,
I doe so often Hi, Ho, cry.

A Letter to excuse the abrupt taking of a kisse.

IF that I did offend and doe amisse,
In forcing from you a constrained kisse;
Pardon my Love, that thus did think to plead,
And in behalfe of me to intercede.
Which if it hath offended, at the bar
Of mercy kisses to be pardoned are.
Fairest with others, let your creature sue,
Entreat and beg, that you would mercy shew,
And whilst my kisses beg, happy were I,
If I might but so rich a beggar dye.

A Letter to request a Courtesie.

THe knowledge of your vertue makes me bold,
Vpon your favour, and thus to enfold
My owne desires, in hope you will be free,
In granting of an honest courtesie.
[Page 165]Since a request which is made to a friend,
Should have a just aime at a noble end.
Such is my suit, for I should blush to owne
A thought which being to my friend made knowne,
Should move his anger, therefore let me find
A true expression of your generous mind
Adding this curtesie to many more,
Till backe againe, I can the like restore.

A Letter to a beautifull Gentlewoman, that was resolved to live and dye a Maid.

ARe you so young, so handsome and so pretty.
And yet resolve to dye a maid? tis pitty,
Nature did give you beauty not to show,
Vnto the world, but that you might bestow,
It on some others, and raise up your like,
Hath Cupid not one arrow left to strike
Your gentle bosome, or else will you dwell,
Within a Nunnery, or a Hermites cell?
And therefor want of natures recreation,
Commit sin, by a wanton speculation?
Looke on the Pelican, and Turtle Dove,
They both are milde and chaste, yet both doe Love.
Looke on the Eglantine and wood bind tree,
Circling the Elme and such a maid should be.
Who should with sweet embraces gently wind,
About her Lover, while he proves as kind.
And doth fast hold her in his loving armes,
Whilst true affection both their soft hearts warmes.
Then doe not prove an enemy to nature,
But place your Love on me, divinest creature,
That being come into the pleasant fields,
Of Love, may reape the harvest that love yeelds.
[Page 166]For if to love you live not, you are dead,
Then live and love and loose your mayden head.

A Letter to a Gentlewoman in excuse of long absence.

MY unkind fate deserveth blame, not I,
In robbing me of your blest company,
And thus my thoughts seeme to suggest and say,
Write not to me, but come your selfe away.
O could you fancy by imagination.
The sorrow I sustaine in contemplation.
Of my long absence, how I sigh and groane,
And oftentimes doe play upon the droane
Of a Tobacco-pipe, to refresh my wits,
When they are in sad discontented fits,
You would then pardon me who now doe live,
Forlorne in sorrow, and doe sigh, and grieve,
To thinke on you, whose presence I desire,
And burne the more, the further from the fire,
As flowers in winter hide their drooping head,
And all their glory is quite vanished,
When the bright sunne withdraweth his warme light,
And leaves the world deprived of his sight,
So I like to a flower upon the stalke,
Wither, whilst I in discontent doe walke,
Wanting those beames of comfort which proceed
From your faire eyes, that doe both warme and feed,
My cold distressed heart, for how can I
But droope, deprived of your company?
I have no essence now, for I did hold,
My life from you, I gave away and sold
My selfe unto your service, still to be,
Your constant servant and your votary,
And though I must be absent some few houres,
Yet know deare love, my heart is sealed yours.

A Complementall Letter.

HEaven blesse my Love in whose sweet favour,
I desire alone to thrive,
Let fickle mindes seeke change and waver,
To be constant I will strive,
Yours I am, and have no thought
That can reach beyond my Love,
But downe to you tis [...]ickly brought,
From heaven below, to heaven above.
You are my heaven here of content,
Whither my thoughts doe aspire,
This life is but a kind of Banishment,
Till I enjoy my hearts desire.
Therefore before my winged soule hence fleet,
Let this one comfort unto you be given,
That in the spheare of love our soules may meet,
And both together take their flight to heaven.

A maydes Letter fearing a growing shame.

BLame not a Mayd, if she doth thus discover,
What she doth blush to tell, her faithlesse Lover.
I know I urge but an unhappy suite,
Who loves the tree when he hath got the fruit?
Yet thinke upon your vowes and false temptation,
Let former love move your commiseration,
This paper will not blush, whilst it doth tell,
That former pleasures now make sorrowes swell.
You have enough undone me, doe not be,
For too much kindnesse cruell unto me.
[Page 168]Thinke on the story of the Trojan Queene,
In whom my picture may be lively seene.
For when that she had made her selfe the feast,
To entertaine Encas her false guest,
He hoisted up his sailes, and nere would view
The Rovall Queene whom his unkindnesse slew.
Poore silly mayd deceiv'd by your temptation,
I was orecome, our stories have relation.
I doe intreat you then if you would have
A happy life, and find a quiet grave;
That you would view me, not as in Loves bed,
But in the Paradise of my maiden-head.
And had I so continued, I had bin
Preserv'd in Virgin purenesse, cleere from sin.
Now like a weeping penitent, I come,
In hope to move you to compassion.
Restore the ruines of my maiden honor,
And think thus with your selfe, shall I go from her,
That was so kind to me that she would venture,
On promis'd mariage, to seale loves indenture?
O heare thy Conscience that would thus informe thee,
And for my loving folly, doe not scorne me.
But let your Love be mutually exprest,
In confidence whereof my rhoughts doe rest.

A Letter of thanks to a Gentlewoman for some favour received.

ALL is from your free mercy, for I know,
All merits are cryed downe, as far below
Your favours, wh [...]ch you doe most freely leave,
With such as be unworthy to receive
Such livelv comforts, but therein I find,
The true d [...]vinity of a worthy minde.
That on the poorest and unworthiest spirit,
Doth let fall blessings far beyond all merit.
[Page 169]And with this bounty, you excite and move,
My soule to wonder and admire your love.
Knowing not how to render thanks as due,
For such expressions, which so faire doe shew,
That the endeavour of my life will be,
Too meane requitals of your courtesie.
But yet I hope to prove no barren sand,
Nor by ingratitude, a fruitlesse land.
That doth deceive the husbandmans desires,
And both his limbes, and expectation tyres.
But all my powers shall labor with much strength,
Of thankfulnesse, to pay your love at length.
And may I nere know comfort if I prove
Vngratefull to the merit of your love.

To Mistris Penelope, Natures Master-Peece, the lover expresses his flames of affection,

WOnder of beauty on whom I repose
Such hope of comfort, that I must disclose
To you my secret thoughts, and dare to name
My sufferings, how I martyr'd in the flame
Of your affection burne, Let not your scorne,
Increase my sorrowes, so to make me mourne.
Till love increase in strength, and doe blaze higher,
And my sad ashes, are consum'd with fire.
Which should not be, for I doe not alone
Doate on those beames which from your eves are throwne.
Nor on your cheekes which are the nuptiall bed,
Where Roses are with Lillies muryed.
Nor on your lippes which closed seeme to smoother
Their beauty, and doe only kisse each other,
These peeces of your beauty with a smile,
May seeme to build up a sweet funerall pile.
[Page 170]For common Lovers, but my fancy tooke,
Another course, for it doth dare to looke
Into your soule, which crown'd with vertue sits,
Govern'd by reason, not by passions fits,
And weares a powerfull charme, that both inspires
All hearts with holy thoughts and good desires,
For vertue hidden from the common sight,
Shines out in you, as glistering stars by night
Peepe through a cloud, that all may gaze and see,
Your glorious parts, cloath'd in mortality.
So that I am afraid here to describe,
Your sweet perfections, least they should be spy'd
By Angels, who drest in some mortall shape,
Would from the heavens make a swift escape.
To Court you in a dreame, and so would stay,
With you on earth, forgetfull of the way.
Backe unto heaven, whilst that they did prove,
Rivals to me, in seeking of your love.
Therefore the flames of my affections are,
Ingenuous, and not like the common snare
Of Love, which is plac'd only in the bloud,
For though I burne my paine is understood
By such a character, as may be given,
Though it is a flame, it is deriv'd from heaven.
Kindled from a small sparke, that here doth shine,
On earth, and hath a nature that's divine.
O Sweet Penelope thy beauties be
But a faire abstract or epitome
Of brightest lusters, or a streame that lead
Me on, unto the purest fountaines head,
Then let me burne still, with a flame most cleare,
From sinfull dregges, so that my love appeare
An imitation of divinest love;
And if my flames too violent doe prove,
This shall at last be my concluding prayer,
Let heaven and Penelope both share
Of my poore heart, which thus now burning lyes,
Being her martyr, and heavens sacrifice.

To Mistris E.B. Sent her with a RING.

ROund is the world, and so is love,
No art can find out the beginning
Of circles, those on seas doe move,
Come round againe, by natures bringing,
And those that travell in loves ring,
From one point doe at first begin,
Of affection, and having found,
Love for love are then come round.
So this ring sent, shall be
Loves compasse, both to you and me,
By which we to saile may venture,
Till we meet both in one center.

To a pretty witty scornefull Gentlewoman be­ing proud of her beauty, and after troub­led with the greene sicknesse.

IF I were young as you are, I would prove,
A tyrant unto all, that sought my love,
To flout them, and to heare Narcissus cry,
Echo O Echo, for thy love I die,
And perish in the funotaine of thy face,
What art thou gon, and leav'st me in this case?
Ile walke away, and my sad story tell,
Vnto the Ghosts that in Elisium dwell.
Thus might I play the mad man but my deare
And fairest creature in whom doth appeare
Glorious perfections, tell me would you have
Me dye for love, or weepe into my grave?
[Page 172]And give my body to the Wormes to eate,
Their legacy, on one, is womans meate.
O no, your knowledge will instruct you fuller,
And tell you, that your owne cheeke is growne duller
Then it was usuall, death it seemes hath strooke,
A palenesse in it, and away hath tooke
The former beauty, which he did to be
Revenged, for your scornefulnesse to me.
Death sayes, that you this choise shall only have,
Either to marry me, or else your grave.

To a weeping Widdow, wishing her to wipe away Teares, with the conceit of a second Husband.

ENough of Teares, their date expires,
Doe not three dayes raise fresh desires
In you, or have you all sence lost,
Is your bloud turned to a frost?
A widdowes griefe should alwaies be
An out side of formality,
Or like a herse cloth, that is laid,
Vpon the Coffin, which convai'd
Into the grave, the mourning blacke,
Is folded up, and so sent backe.
Your sorrow like the cloth laid on,
The herse, should not be convaid home
With you, why should you vexe your selfe,
With fruitlesse sorrowes, can your wealth
Or teares, which from your eyes doe raine,
Call your late spouse to life againe?
O would you doe him so much wrong,
That he having gotten from the throng
Of men, out of this world to be
Blest with the Angels company;
[Page 173]Should back againe returne to give
Comfort to you, and here to live
A second pilgrimage, would you wish,
Him for you to leave heavens blisse?
Be comforted, and let not sorrow
From your face such beauty borrow,
But make it lovely, blacke becomes,
Only funerals and Nunnes.
There is no musicke in the grave,
Though one be lost, still you may have
Another husband, and I am bold,
To aske you, whether you can hold,
A good opinion, of my Love,
Which in these characters doth move
As active, to give you content,
You know sweet widdow, what is meant
By active, you doe never blush,
At words, nor yet once pish or tush,
As maides doe use in modesty,
Who will their owne desires deny.
For Widdowes with a better apprehension,
Should know, the secretst thoughts intention,
Then faire one, if this letter woo you,
Let it not be unwelcome to you.
But when you doe rip up the Seale,
And read what this sheet doth reveale
Vnto your knowledge, let your bloud
Informe you, that the lines are good,
Touching quicke, and he that writ
This Letter, doth your fancy fit.
For letters unto widdowes sent,
Should be like challenges full bent,
To dare them from City or Court,
To play a prize, at Cupids sport.
But you will say that I doe Iest,
And doe maintaine within my brest
A wanton flame, I cannot mourne
With you, nor yet with sorrow turne
Like Niobe into a stone, but live
I would that I might comfort give
To you sweet widdow, then be content,
To make me yours, sans complement.

To a young Mayd.

COme thou fairest master-peece,
Of natures worke, her golden fleece,
Let me injoy thee, flower, will fade,
If not refresht, dye not a maid,
Let us agree to appoint a day,
To gather flowers, why should you stay
So long a Virgin, what have you done,
To nature and your selfe? a Nunne
Deserves not beautie, it is a mate,
Makes Cupids darling fortunate.
Since youth and beauty then invite
You thus to play, for your delight,
Let loves tables opened be,
Feare not, you are well match'd with me,
Stake your maiden-head, you shall choose,
Whether you will winne or loose,
Or if you loose, I doe beleeve,
You will not for your losse once grieve.

To a young Gentlewoman, that disdained her Lover

ONce more I have presum'd to ease my griefe,
With these sad lines, in hope of some reliefe,
O wretched I, that suffer in the flame,
Of love, yet dare not of my love complaine,
Nor sighs nor teares, will I in this case use,
Nor thee my love, will I at all accuse,
Since tis my cruell fate, that I must be
Martyr'd with love, and only dye for thee.
Yet let me aske one question, are they least
Rewarded with true love, that doe love best,
Or is it but in me, held an offence,
To love you, since that the sweet influence,
Of one faire smile from you, renews lifes flame,
And one sad frowne, can put it out againe,
Like a third sister? If you Love deny,
You cut my thred of life, and I must dye.

A complementall Letter to a Beautifull young Gentlewoman.

FOr me to prayse your beauty, would appeare
A flattery, for when the sunne shines cleare,
All doe admire his beames, even so your eyes,
Are like to stars, that shine in beauties skies,
And have a kind of influence below,
To make hearts all obedience to you show,
Your cheekes are Roses, and your haire is amber,
The odor of your breath perfumes your Chamber,
Your lips are like unto the respasse berry.
Or like unto a full ripe swelling cherry,
Your brow is Cupids bow, most sweetly bent,
From whence loves golden arrow still is sent,
Your brests are like unto a paire of mountaines,
Not yet resolved into nectar fountaines,
Till love a pleasant moysture to them brings,
And raises up on them two happy springs,
But then below, there lies the happy vally,
Where young Adonis did with Venus dallie.
And to behold it seemed much ashamed,
He blusht, and so this vally is yet unnamed.
Yet howsoever it be not exprest,
Lovers have fancies, to conceive it best,
Thus I acknowledge you, divinest creature,
To be a modell of the sweetest feature.
Then since that nature hath adorn'd each part.
With such perfections, I doe hope your heart,
Is of so sweet a temper, to let fall
Pitty on him, who doth not know at all
The art of Complements, for Love is best,
When it is naked, with plaine words exprest,
Yet if you please to reckon me for one,
That am devoted in affection,
Vnto your service, I shall repute of this,
As earths chiefe happinesse and heavens blisse.

Phrases, for the beginnings of Letters, for our greater speede in our urgent occasions.

DEsiring to refresh the memory of your good will.

I thanke you for the courtesie I received at your hands.

I pray you honour me so much, as to beare my Neece company.

Let mee request this courtesie at your hands.

I must intreate you to have me excused.

I am wonderfully taken with the read­ing of your Letters.

Sir, I am not ignorant of the affection you beare to me.

There shall be nothing wanting in mee who have beene alwayes tender of your honour.

Sir, I have well considered of your friend­ship, and the worthy affection you bear mee.

[Page 177] Sir, Let me advise you, not to let slip this opportunity.

Excuse me, if my haste force me to be too familiar with you.

Phrases for the conclusions of Letters in haste.

VVHerefore I pray you advise me, or give me counsell, since in all things you may dispose of me.

Wherefore be pleased to excuse me.

Wherefore I doe againe desire you.

I will employ all my power in it.

The best interest, or use which you shall have for the money you lent mee, is, that I will here confesse and subscribe my selfe, your, &c.

So as you will have a little patience, I will doe you reason, or, I will doe all that shall be fitting.

When you shall have need of my ware, or of any thing my shoppe affords, it is at your command, or service.

In any thing, wherein I shall have the [Page 178] meanes to serve you, I will doe it with a very good will.

If you have need of mee, I pray you spare me not since I am alwayes yours.

If you thinke good, I pray you send for it, for it is at your command.

I shall acquit my selfe therein, as I should doe in my owne businesse.

You shall find me alwayes ready to obey you.

If you deale well with me now, you will give mee occasion to pleasure you another time.

If you send not the summe you owe mee, you will constraine mee to take some other course.

I pray you advise me in it.

I will ever doe it with all my heart:

I will not faile to advertise you.

All that I have, it is at your command.

I will take the boldnesse to salute you, with my most humble recommends.

I shall doe it with as good a will, as I now recommend mee to your good favour, with my prayers to God, to give you even what your heart desireth.

Desiring God to give you the continu­ance, [Page 179] and increase of all kinde of prosperity, with my prayers to God, to give you, with your perfect health, the accomplishment of your wishes.

Praying to God for your contentment. Even so I take my leave.

And so I rest or remaine for ever, ever­more, alwaies, Yours, &c.

The Garden-Knot of faire and rare Letters of Complement.

An offer of service.

SIr, These strokes of my hand, shall serve to intreat you to honour me with yours, and to confirme to you anew the purpose I have alwayes had in my soule, which is a perfect will to live faithfully, that I may die constant.

Yours, Sir.

Another.

SIr, This my duty shall confirme the rest, which I desire to yeeld you by my ser­vice. With this request, that you hold mee still in your remembrance, as him that shall never affect other merit then that of obey­ing you, whereby to be by you esteemed,

Sir,
The most obedient of all Your servants.

Another upon the sending of a token.

SEE, Sir, I doe not forget you, witnesse this present, and a thousand more evi­dences, which I shall give you for secu­rity of my continued affection; and in all occasions, you shall finde me what I pro­fesse, that is,

Sir,
Yours.

A Letter of request to entertaine a friend.

SIr, If I can tel how to crave of you, much better can I obey you: but for lacke of your commands, I make my prayers to you [Page 181] and especially for this, to honour this friend of mine with your fauour; he shall be obli­ged, and bound to you; hee, as indifferent, and I, Sir, as

Your most affectionate Servant.

Another to the same effect.

Sir,

MY passionate desire to doe you service emboldens mee to take pen in hand, to beseech you to doe this friend of mine a favour; the matter is but small, but the acknowledgment shall be great. I shall expect this courtesie of you, as you from me will looke for all manner of service, sith in very deed Sir, I am

Your most humble Servant.

A Letter for Answer to requests.

I Honour your requests too much to re­fuse them, much more your commands to refuse them; so that by obliging you, I content my selfe. I have therefore effected your will, which I account mine owne, with as much vehemence, as shall be requi­site [Page 182] for your service: for whilst I am any thing, Sir, I am,

Your Servant.

Another humble expression of ones selfe to a friend.

SIr, I am so destined to obey you, that I ne­ver had a more passionate desire in my soule for any thing, endeavour then to con­tent me, by making use of my services, for they belong to you, and I bestow them on you; without reserving ought, but the ho­nour of that employment, sith that will make mee still appeare, wheresoever I am, like my selfe, which is,

Your most humble, &c.

Another.

SIr, Your requests are effected, and by con­sequent, my desires accomplished; the one depending on the other: for the least of those things that may pleasure you, shall bee alwayes my contentment. Spare not then my services, that I may obey you; for should they bee unworthy of your com­mands, [Page 183] remember at least, how they pro­ceed, Sir, from

Your most humble Servitour.

A Letter of Excuse.

SIr, Though you were deprived of my Letters, you were not of my remem­brance: but if the want of a good oppor­tunitie will excuse me, my good will must satisfie you. And indeed I had no newes to send you, Sir, save only, that I am alwayes

Yours.

To a sicke friend.

SIR, Being ascertained of your sicknesse, I was no more in doubt of mine owne harme, sith the least you feele, is to mee an extreame griefe. Now if my prayers can doe any thing for your health, and conse­quently, for my comfort, you will be soone well, and I content,

Sir,
Who am, your most humble.

A Letter to her Sweet heart.

YOu binde mee and unbinde, pardon me fairest, if this word offend thee, when you tell mee you love mee, can I have any greater obligation? the offence is not small that you had not written to mee, but that you promised me, for I am indebted to your promise, and not to your loue: remember I beseech you that I am not yours, because I have promised you, but because I am truely yours, and that I desire not Letters for the conditions that are betweene us, but for the sole witnesse of your good will not wel-comming them as merchandizes, but as be­ing sent me from a wounded heart,

Thus I am thine, Farewell.

A Letter from a quondam Mistris.

SIr, since I am constrain'd by my fathers commands, I must intreate you to end that love which heretofore I conjured you [Page 185] to keepe eternall. I am intended for an advancement, yet can I not leave sensibly to feele the separation of our loves, yet since it is folly to contrary that which must fall out otherwise, I counsell you to arme your selfe with strong resolutions, and so to forget all that hath past betweene us that you have no memory of mee, as I for duties sake am con­strained to forget thee,

Being now not my owne.

His Answer.

GOe paper more happy then him that sends thee, accompanied with thy blots instead of teares kisse her hands, which ha­ving kist, since shee hath robbed mee of my heart, certifie her that day and night, I turne my selfe into streames of teares to wash away her unfaithfulnes, tell her faith­full paper that by unbēding the bow she can never heale the wound which shee hath made in her faith, and my love, and that my griefes shall witnesse to the world that as shee is most faire, so she is most unconstant [Page 186] to her Lover who can finde content in no­thing but death, and therefore bids her for ever farewell.

A Letter to a Lord protesting Love.

SIR, I received your Letter and withall perused those undeserved commendations of my perfections as you call them, to which you annexed the protestations of your service, which you must give me leave to question, for I shall alwaies doubt whi­ther so honorable a personage as your Lord­ship can yeeld service to so meane a Ladie, or if Love had such power, whether you would obey: now worthy Sir, upon these warrants and your free offers of service, I binde you by a courteous request to con­clude a speedy peace, that I may without danger of hostility repaire to Dianaes tem­ple, so shall I be bound to doe you any ho­nourable favour, Farewell.

His short answer.

MY deerest, if the dissembling which you injoyne me to, be to cause me to dye of griefe, you may easily doe it with a frowne, and then my death will give you a speedy and deplorable demonstration how truly I have loved you, Farewell.

Her Answer.

IF there be any thing in you that pleases me, your death is the least: the acknow­ledgement of your fault hath satisfied me, and I will have no other revenge of your boldnesse then the miseries you suffer: know your selfe better hereafter.

Farewell, and live, cherish your selfe and hope.

A Letter on his Mistris in his absence.

Fairest, I left thee with griefe, but am re­turned with pleasure and contentment, deny me not therefore thy presence, but let me see thee, that I may recount my fortunes to thee who art the fortune of my fortunes,

Farewell.

A Letter protesting affection.

IF I have not alwaies loved you, let me ne­ver be beloved of any, if my affections doe ever change, let my present misfortunes never change, If you beleeve not the oath I have made you, take what proofe you will of mee, and you shall find that I am more yours, then I can assure you by my true, but most feeble words, Farewell.

To congratulate a friend.

SIr, I much rejoyce at the successe of your businesse, and even so, as if it had arrived to mee, I could not more celebrate it in my soule; so much doe I tender your content: but this is but a duty, to the friendshippe I owe you; and a necessity, to the zeale I have to your service, wherein I doe but ob­lige me to my selfe: meane while be it how it will, the same proceeds but from,

Sir,
Your most humble.

A farewell to a friend going a necessary Voyage.

SIr, an irkesome necessity deprives me a long while from the honour of your pre­sence (but not without griefe) for your con­versation is so pleasing to me, that I have al­wayes preferred it before all manner of de­lights. Iudge now therefore, if separated [Page 190] from you, I can live content: but for all that, I must suffer this harme, sith it is ne­cessary for my good. Meane while, remem­ber your selfe, that I shall never forget you, and where ever I be, will appeare as I am,

Sir,
Yours.

Excuse.

SIr, If lawfull excuses exempt duty, I am absolved of the promises I have made you, through the importunity of affaires that have befallen mee: it grieves mee neverthe­lesse, for not keeping my word with you, and that griefe, with my good will, may satisfie you, I shall shortly doe my selfe the happinesse to see you, and the honour to serve you,

Sir,
Sith I am Yours, &c.

Of a new married man to his Brother in Law.

SIr, The honour of your alliance is so deare to you, that I shall never thinke me more happy, then when I shall deeme my selfe capable to deserve it. This duty will witnesse to you, how considerable you are [Page 191] with mee, which at once hath given mee, with the desire to know you, the will to serve you, I have no other passion in my soule, nor other ambition, in my designes: it is all I hope for, it is every thing I looke for, yea, with so much impatience as I have left off my liberty (after so sweet a servitude) to live faithfull, that I may dye constant

Sir,
The most humble of your Servants.

A Letter by way of protestation.

SIr, The honour of your friendship so ob­ligeth me to make some worthy acknow­ledgment, that I am all full of will to serve you, and as full of default in the perfor­mance; I will therefore waite the time and occasion, wherein by your command I may signallize my obedience, which shall al­wayes, and wheresoever I be, make mee ap­peare as I am,

Sir,
That is, Your, &c.

Another of a friend obliged by favours.

SIR, you still delight in obliging such as are most beholding unto you; I am wit­nes of it, and your courtesie is the triall: so that I am ashamed to be alwayes engaged, without so much as the hope ever to ac­knowledge the favour rightly. Neverthe­lesse, if a fervent passion perfectly zealous for your service, can satisfie you in my de­faults, accept of it, I beseech you, since it pro­ceeds,

Sir,
From your most humble, &c.

To complaine for some offence.

SIR, Your words offend much, and your deeds much more; I pitie them both; the one makes you seeme milde, and the o­ther, rash; I thinke you are not the man to repent it: but he that does ill, is not absol­ved for being sorry for it, bee must doe pe­nance [Page 193] for it. Looke to your owne matters therefore, that you may never talke of o­thers. I take nothing in jest, when one pin­ches me. If you doubt it, there's my Name, which shall make good my words.

N.

A presentment of service.

MIstris, It is long since, that too much discretion hath kept me from writing to you; and it may be too much boldnesse permits it me now: I pray you therefore pardon me, before you judge me guilty: that so I may bee rather absolved, then accused: for although I had no other purpose, then to tender you my service, as now I doe, with my faith to boote, for assurance of my fide­lity: yet am I fearefull of too much under­taking: but howsoever, chastise me as you please. Mistris, Ther's my Name and Sur­name,

Your humble, and most affectionate Servant.

Another of Love.

MIstris, Sith at the sole aspect of your eyes, my heart sighes for love, as ta­ken with your wonders; I shall incessant­ly blesse the day of your acquaintance, and consequently of her that is the most per­fectly faire on earth: and already resigning my will to yours, I will so passionately che­rish my thraldome, that the feare alone of being free will make mee miserable. Make good my purpose then Sweet, Mistris, But alwayes in this qualitie, of your most affectionate Servant.

Another.

MIstris, When to admire you I staid mine eyes at your object, my heart insensiblie taken, bewailed her captivity; so as I found my selfe in love, before I had [Page 591] so much as the hope to be so. And yet I should not complaine; I rather will blesse the day that bereft mee of my liberty with the sole armes of your merits, without re­serving any freedome to my selfe,

Mistris, other then the word to speake me, Your servant.

Another.

LAdy, I have such an inclination to your love, that I must neds be destined for your service. Now if it be a fatall instinct in me, that my obeisance should waite upon the honour of your commands, is it not ne­cessary for you,

Mistris, To believe me to be your servant?

Another.

MIstris, If admiration have onely eyes for your beauty, and if Cupid be not blinde, but to eschew hurts from you, can I [Page 196] have an heart without loving you, or a soule without adoring you? And can I be mor­tall, and not sensible of your charmes? Oh no, Mistris, I have too much honour, in be­ing your Captive; and too much glory, in being your slave.

Another.

MIstris, This instant letter will tell you I am your servant. If you aske me the cause: It is your merit, and the effect shall be my obedience, if you deeme mee as wor­thy of your commands, as you are of my services, I have a Mistris to my wish, and by consequence, am

Your Servitour, &c.

Another.

MIstris, I am yours: for having no­thing to offer you worthy of your merit, I bestow my selfe; but it is as your Captive and slave.

Another.

SIth your eyes have wounded my heart, the wound is mortall. If I must die, it shall be for love. Happy death, happy cause! I will have no remedy, for my heart is too noble to crave a cure. Confesse onely you have vanquished me, and I shall confesse my defeate, being it proceeds from the most perfect creature on earth.

A Letter of a despairing Lover.

SOmtimes Love, at this time the despaire of Love, hath put the pen into my hand, with a purpose if it returne mee no redresse, to change it into a sword, which promises mee a full though a cruell healing; the blanke paper which you have sent mee, for an an­swer, is a testimony of my innocency, since it is as if you had said, you have found no­thing to accuse mee of, from whence other­wise could your silence proceed? if you have [Page 198] any remembrauce of my faithfull service, for pitty I desire of you either life or death: this is all that is requested at your hands by your despairing Lover.

Her answere.

DRaw from your evill the knowledge of your good: if you had not bin belo­ved, you could never have had a sence of any thing; till you are forgiven, you shall not know your offence: in the meane space hope and live.

To a Lady promising revenge on his enemy.

MAdam, who doubts of my innocency shall bee guilty and offend against truth, closed eyes see not the light, though without a shadow it shine on them, especi­ally when those eyes are shut against the brightnesse of my Iustice: therefore if the bloud of mine enemy cannot wash away [Page 199] my staine, I wil voluntarily adde thereunto mine owne, since that I have no other way to preserve my life left mee, I am ready to render it; farewell.

Her answer.

SIR, The wounds of the body are not al­wayes healed, though they be out of dan­ger, no more they of the mind; but having removed the difficulties by your valour and prudence, you must give time leave to work her ordinary actions, in the meane space she that loves you waites an opportunity till the blemishes of your honor are washt off by the expressions of your vertues, that you may appeare cleere, and as bright as day againe in the eyes of her that admires you.

A Lovers offer of his service to his Mistris.

FAire Mistris, had I vertue to perswade you as you have power to make me love [Page 200] you the discovery of my blazing affections would melt you, were you a mountaine of Ice, to pitty, but for that love is more ve­hement in the heart, then in the tongue; I appeale to your motions for grace, if you have ever loved; if not, I hope for such Iu­stice at Venus hands, that you shall thus much I say, though I place no confidence in my owne wishes, because they convert to ayre, yet I presume of my own indeavours, for that I have vowed my life to death, to do you service, of which you can have no better assurance, than to imploy me, nor I a higher favour than to be

Yours.

A letter of a lover, requesting speedy remedy

GOod Madam, Martyr me not with doubts, since my affections are so vio­lent, and the excellence of your beauty doth so exceed, so that the ful power of love hath made me in the state of flaming flax, which is presently to be quenched, or wil suddenly burne: thus longing for your gracious and sudden answer, I kisse your hand, and am No more my owne.

A Letter from a languishing lover.

MOre of zeale to do you service, than desire I have to live, I here present you my consumed selfe, onely kept alive by the light of your faire beauty, that sitteth crow­ned in the palace of my heart, which bleed­ing at your feet, beggeth the meanes of my cure: if you vouchsafe it I live; if not, you must see my death: and thus doubtfull be­tween both, till I kisse your sweet answer, I remaine,

Vnto my last gasp Yours.

Her Answer.

I Am not cruell, though with difficulty I consent to love; and for th [...]t your passions are so extreme, I keepe your picture in my bosome, but with what thought, I blush to write, though pitty be my warrant, so that I leave the event of our love to your conside­ration: for know sweet Sir, that being over­come to see your passions so great, I cannot but commit my love, my honour, my selfe, and all to your affection, and wise govern­ment, Farewell.

A Letter to his Mistris.

FAirest, since it is a common thing to love and a miracle to subdue affection, Let it not seeme strange that I am a slave to your beauty, nor wonder though I sue for grace, since the lover like a sick patient, is inforc'd to seeke comfort of his mistris: to prove that I love you, needs no other testimony then the witnesse of your rare perfections, for the present I balme my wounds with a hope that I shall kisse your gracious hand, and that your answer wil returne an acceptance of the service of him

Whose heart waiteth on your Beauty.

A Letter to his Mistris, upon service injoyned.

FAire Nimph, May all contents and plea­sures dwell with you, as all mine de­pend [Page 203] on you, I perceive now you command mee to action, but Love which is ever ac­companied with doubts commands mee to tremble, but let heaven doe with me what it pleaseth, I know it will not deny mee a grave.

A Letter complainining of the cruelty of his Mistris.

FAirest, If your eyes were as full of va­riety as they are to cause love, the sweet­nesse which they promise at the first, would make me adore them with as much content­ment as they have produced in me of vaine hope; but so farre are they from the perfor­mance of their deceitfull promises, that they will not so much as confesse them, and so wide from healing my hurt, that they will not acknowledge themselves Authors, as if with you they purpose to equall crueltie with beauty, since you have ordained that the affection that you have caused to be born in me should cruelly dye in me, was there ever a more unpitifull mother but I, who [Page 204] held more deare that which came from you than my life, being unable to suffer so great an injustice, am resolved to carie my affecti­ons with me into the grave, hoping that the heavens moved at last, will through my pa­tient suffering, make me as deare to you, as you are now cruell to me, Farewell.

A Letter from a despairing lover.

IF you have regard to the presumption which hath forced me to love, my death which followes it, shall revenge it on you; but if it be indifferent to you, I assure my selfe, that this last act of my affection shall gaine somwhat more in your soule: if it fall out so, I shall cherish the resemblance of your beauty more than my birth, since by it I came into the world to be troublesome to you; and by the other, I go out of it, and leave you.

Another.

MIstris, My heart is yours, my obedi­ence belongs to your commands, and my whole will is yours: so that I have no­thing free but speech, to say, I am

Your Servitour.

Another.

MIstris, From the time that with your beautie, I had the knowledge of your merits, I felt some secret power, which sweetly enforced my will to honour you, and my heart to aspire at nought but your love. If so be then, that my services, where­of Heaven hath reserved the integrity for your commands, may be never so little pleasing to you, permit,

Mistris,
That I may honour my selfe, with this title of your Servant.

Another Letter of Service.

SIR, I have received, by way of duty, the honour of your Letter; whereby I have seen the submissions of services which you do me, but unfittingly, for which I am more beholding to your courtesie, then to any merit of mine: Now to accept of them were without reason; as to refuse them would be held disdainfull; I doe therefore receive the proffer, but leave the effects to your selfe, that so you may not serv

Sir,
Her that favours you.

Another.

SIR, If the services which your honesty will needs yeeld mee, gather only life from my merit, or beauty, they have but their name; for there can be no defect, if there be no cause: So that I never having [Page 207] any beauty, or merit, you are but my ser­vant in word, Sir, but I am yours in deed.

Another.

SIR, If my duty have entertained yours, mine honesty hath refused your offers, as too worthy of me, and I am unworthy of them. I shall neverthelesse, for mine owne sake, reserve the honour to my self, Sir, who am

Your servant.

Another to the same effect.

SIR I accuse my duty for your satisfacti­on, for that I have deprived you of my Letters; and confesse me guiltie, before you accuse me, the rather to merit grace. Deny it me not then I beseech you, as you regard him that begs it Sir, who is the most affe­ctionate of all your Servants.

Another to the same effect.

ALbeit one selfe same cause makes us pardonable, for having beene alike si­lent, yet doe I know my duties interest, in having unjustly deprived you, (being obli­ged to you as I am) of the effects of my remembrance, which grieves my soule, and which griefe I present to you, but alwaies in my quality,

Sir,
of your humble servitour.

A Letter desiring better acquaintance.

SIR, Although my merit be not such as may presume to deserve the honour I have to write to you, yet the desire never­thelesse I have to introduce my selfe into your acquaintance and friendship, hath em­boldened me to present these lines to you, and to receive the honour of your com­mands, and to tender to you the offers of my service.

Yours.

A Letter from on to his Mistris.

IT is impossible to see you without loving you, but much more to love you without being extreme in that affection, so that if for my defence it shall please you to consi­der this truth when this paper shall present it self before your eyes, I assure my self that the greatnesse of my hurt shall obtaine by pitty as much pardon from you, as the bold­nesse which hath raised me to this worth, may merit just punishment, attending the Iudgement which you shall give, suffer me a thousand and a thousand times to kisse your faire hands and rest.

A Letter to Coelia.

Mistris.

IF perfection be not in the world, but to make you admired; if love be not love, but to make you be beloved; if sacrifi­ces be not but to make you be adored; who [Page 210] can see you without admiration, who can admire you without love, and who can love without adoring you? he must be one that hath neither eyes, heart, nor soule: for if my eyes admire you, affection will have it so: if my heart loves you, reason commands it, if my soule adores you, heaven permits it: so that these three necessities forming it for you, I present it to you

Deare Mistris,
under the Title of yours, Eugenius.

A Letter.

SIR, It is needlesse for me to say I love you, since my actions hitherto have given you no testimony to the contrary. Truce then for my words, I will that my deeds shall speak, and tell you that in effect I will during life be

Yours.

A Letter of acknowledgment.

WHat worthy acknowledgement can I give to your obligations, when their extremitie bereaves me of the hope: my dutie remaines pensive at the ex­cesse of your courtesies; for being never able to tend [...]r you other, than unworthy ef­fects of your merits. I have indeed but the will, and that is but a shadow for a body; yet compose it, I beseech you, whilst you re­member how it proceeds from

Your most humble servant.

Another.

SIR, With what kind of duties shall I ac­knowledge your courtesies; which have so obliged me, that to tell them right, one must be silent? To offer you my service; it is alreadie your own. To present my self; I [Page 212] am yours long since. I then have nought but defaults, for your satisfaction; but a thousand services, for your obeysance; for my being in generall, depends on that par­ticular, of Your most humble servitour.

Another.

SIR, I have nothing, yet I owe much. To present you with wishes, for effects, were but too weak recompences. I will therfore give you mine endeavours, for all your courtesies; honouring and serving you whilst I live; all which life of mine is de­stined for no earthly thing, but your com­mands.

Another.

SIR, Your courtesies have too much obli­ged me, ever to forget them; I shall ce­lebrate them particularly in my soul, wher­by to be able to acknowledge them, in the least presenting serviceable occasion, & liue [Page 213] alwayes with this will, never to die behol­ding to you,

Sir,
but yet your most humble Servitour.

Another.

SIR, I can honour your merits by reason, and acknowledge by duty your courtesies which have too much obliged me, to be un­gratefull: though I can never make you worthy satisfaction; yet shall I have al­wayes both the desire and hope of it, and in the meane while a stedfast will to live and die,

Sir,
Yours.

For telling of newes.

SIR, Desirous of your contentment, as of mine owne, I have taken pen in hand, to tell you whatsoever hath past. Now you have seene what is new, take the old with it: which is, that I am alwayes,

Sir,
Your Servitour.

A Letter of acknowledgement of being beloved.

Shall I conceale such an excessive happi­nesse, as to bee loved by you, My deere? Or shall I publish it, to make it greater? No, no, my silence may honour it, yet my words shall make it the more glori­ous; for in leaving it, I shall deprive its memorie of forgetfulnesse. I will therefore have my mouth continually closed up, a­gainst the confession of it, my minde taken in the thought of it, and my soule wrapped in the sole object of its Idea. And so bles­sing my birth, for the happinesse of yours, that your death may be my Tombe. In the meane while, my whole happinesse and glo­ry shall consist in this qualitie, of

Your most humble servant.

A Letter of absence.

MIstris, Since the day of your depar­ture, which was also reckoned the same of my contentment, teares and griefs have been inseparable with my life: all kind of objects are to me defective, nothing pleases me, but what dislikes me; and if your memory did not still accompanie me in my actions, I should forget my selfe, and in stead of preserving my life for your ser­vice, should destroy it for mine owne con­tent. If you desire to judge of my griefe, judge what your selfe are, Mistris, which is the fairest of the world, and I the most afflicted of all your servants.

Another.

MIstris, Sith for counterpoise of my love, I suffer the griefe of your ab­sence, I doe even indure all that ever can be [Page 216] conceived in rigorous torments: the daies shine not on me, but to inlighten my mis­hap; for the Sunne laughs at my paine, as I scorne his brightnesse, in that I acknow­ledge none more worthy, than that of your eyes, long since my Conquerers, and still mine idols. But what shall I say? I am borne to indurc, and to love you, Mistris.

But alwaies in this qualitie, of your most humble Servant.

Letters of Absence.

IF those griefes, which are still present, since your absence did not make me hope for a speedy death, I should bewaile the birth of my dayes, that doe enlighten me without thining, for deprived of the brightnesse of your eyes, I can acknowledge none other in the world, as having vanquished me, and that with so many charmes, as that they are not content, that I adore them, but that they are still burning me. Well, this is [Page 217] somewhat too much; but yet too little for your merits. Wherefore I will never be weary of suffering, no more than of loving you. Believe my harme at leastwise, and your beliefe shall be my remedie, and my honour my qualitie.

Mistris,
Of your most humble Servitour.

Another.

MIstris, If the sorrow which your ab­sence hath caused in my soule, could give me as many words to expresse it, as I have griefs to bewaile it; I should thinke my selfe satisfied. But for too much indu­ring, I must be silent in my torment; yet never in my qualitie,

Mistris, Of your most humble Servant.

Answer.

SIR, What kinde of trouble can such an indifferent absence bring to your con­tent? No, no, it can be but an imaginary fee­ling, though it seemes reall, by your owne words, speaking you unable to expresse, be­ing there's no such thing, your silence is your great advantage; since it expresses your torment, without saying any thing of it: But not the title which your faire cari­age gives you, of being my servitour; as to me it doth likewise the endeavour, Sir, of deserving the stile and quality, of your ser­vant.

Another.

SIR, I can give but fained remedies to an imaginarie torment like yours, for mine absence is of too indifferent a nature to cause [Page 219] your grief or trouble, and I beseech you dis­pence with me for believing it, since also mine owne knowledge forbids it, as reason doth otherwise to say I am

Sir,
Your servant.

Ʋpon a point of rigour.

IF love and crueltie bee two contrarie things, your love must needs be fained, since your rigour is reall. Cease then to make me suffer, and I shall believe you love me, for my paine and your crueltie are too opposite to persist together: Adieu my deare, and though too cruell.

J am your Servitour.

Another.

SIR, You complaine of my absence, and I of yours: you would enjoy my pre­sence, but your discretion forbids it you, and me the happinesse to see you; but my want [Page 220] of power opposeth it: so that grievances should be lesse in that they are equally sha­red: but not the quality which I take,

Sir,
of your servant.

Another.

TO see you without admiration, is past my power; to admire and love you, is a necessity; but to love and indure yours, is a consequence for you have so much merit, that one can hardly desire, much lesse hope for the honour of your good favours. Iudge then who can but worthily serve you? Sure he is yet unborn, nay, in earnest, i'le pawne my soul on't, yet with your leave, Mistris,

For I am Yours.

To his Lady.

TO despise such as honour you, to dis­daine such as love you, to make no ac­count of such as are faithfully yours, are those the actions of a faire soule like yours? [Page 221] Or are these but words, that honour mee with a hope of some effects of your good [...]emembrance? Oh, it is a little too rigo­ [...]ou [...]! Confesse it, that you may repent, and [...]o give him content, who cannot be absent [...]rom you,

Mistris,
As your most humble Servitour.

To a kinswoman.

MIstris, Albeit your actions, in appea­rance have witnessed, that I was no [...]therwise in your esteem, than of an indif­ [...]erent quality; yet my desires being still [...]ecretly zealous for your service, in their na­ [...]urall instinct, aspiring at nothing but your [...]ood, have disarmed my purpose, bent to [...]our disgrace, so to restore me to my selfe, [...]nd make me the same I am to you, which [...],

Mistris,
Your most affectionate servant and kinsman.

Vpon the inconstancy of a servant.

SIR, Our Sex is not alwayes accused of inconstancy, and yet do I now take that law from you: you, I say, whose oathes gave such faithful testimonies of affection, that I durst not doubt of it, for feare of offending my selfe: And yet hath the winde caried away your words, but not your love, for you never had any: so that now when I blame my selfe for having believed you, I praise my selfe withall, for imitating you, but alwayes with the sorrow of not being your example: for it was fit I should pre­cede you, as your Mistris,

Sir,
Though at the present, Your servant.

A Letter.

MIstris, It is well to be seene that you have no love, since you have eyes to see my unworthinesse. Love is blinde, you should be so too in regard of my merits: let it suffice you that I love you, and that I a­dore you, even as the rairest and most per­fect creature on earth.

A Letter from a despairing Lover.

THere is no creature Madam, so berea­ved of reason or deprived of sense, which being oppressed with direfull cala­mities feeleth not by meere instinct of na­ture a present medicine for his malady, man onely excepted, who by reason of his want may justly accuse the injurious powers of in justice, the Vnicorne being sicke recovers his health by swallowing the buddes of a date tree, the Deere being strucken feedes on the hearbe Dictamum, and recovers; but man hath no secret salve so excellent, nor plaister so perfect by whose secret vertues he [Page 224] may appease his passions: this Madam I now know by proofe, and therfore speak by experience; for your divine beautie and the perfections of your mind have kindled such a flame in my heart that by no meanes I can quench, but it will turne my body into dry earth, and cinders; unlesse by the drops of your pity, it be speedily extinguished: there­fore faire one, now at last be mercifull, and let not my service and royall love be recom­penced with such disloyall refusals: strive not for my life, since you have my liberty, seek not my death, since you are the saint to wh [...]ch I offer up my devotions: Madam, let the sweet balme of your benevolence salve the sore which so painfully afflicteth my carefull conscience, and with the dew of your grace redeeme him from misery whose life or death standeth in your an­swer, which I hope shall be such as belong­eth to the desert of my love, and the graces of your beautifull mind.

Farewell.

Her Answer.

IT is impossible Sir, to straine moyst liquor out of the dry flint, to procure a heat in that which is key cold, or to force the stur­die streames to runne against their common course, know Sir, you are the man I loath, but cannot like; make therefore a vertue of your necessity and asswage the flame your selfe, which I know not who else will quench, by an importunate persisting in thy purpose where no hope is, thou provest thy felfe rather a desperate sot, then a discreet Souldier: take my nay therefore for an an­swer: if I would I cannot; and if I could, I would not, so farewell.

No way yours.

To one who is not really what she seemes.

ADmire not though I raile against thy follies, since thy mercylesse minde hath misled me by thy ingratitude, & thy imper­fections have delineated these impressions of my penne: for thy beauty, if I admired it [Page 226] once it was when I knew not that thy ill conditions like bad commodities, were to be put off with it, but now making use of reason: I question whether at that time I had sense: perswade thy selfe therefore, if I were to dye presently, and thou wert part of that I should leave the world, I would bequeath thee with thy good face, and bad conditi­ons for a legacy to my most inveterate ene­my. And for my owne part whilst I do sur­vive, and thy remaining upon this earth, doth yet afflict me, be confident faire pain­ted Sepulcher, I will epitomize all thy vices, that the world by reading thy volume may shun thee as the only obstacle to felicity, and learne the wages of vertue, by those things that are thy contraries, for the present: ad­mire not though this paper bee staind with the blemishes of thy ill name, since nature her selfe was deceived which bestowed her features so rashly, and inconsiderately on thee, certainely thou wert ordained to re­ctifie my mind, that by thee, I might learne to know that a good face is not alwayes ex­empted from a hoarse voyce, I protest to thee I would not buy the distempers of thy soule at so high a rate as to injoy thy beauty, [Page 227] much rather will I indeavour to expresse my gratitude to heaven, in that I faile not to practise this resolution.

Never to inioy thee.

Her Answere.

WOnder not Sir, though you see an answer to your franticke letter, do you thinke by brawling like a begger to be­come a King? No Sir, as I know your kna­very, so I passe not for it, neither can your bragges goe for payment. I marvaile not though your dogged Letters savour of Di­ogenes doctrine, you Cinicall Dunce, what felicity can you have in byting those of whom otherwise thou canst not be reveng'd? Indeed gentle Balaams Asse; if I had bin so light to have loved you, for feeding my fan­cie on thy ill favoured face, I might iustly have reapt such profit, since I then have filled my eyes so full with the figure of a foole; hereafter keepe your Letters Patents in your beggers boxe, adieu Sir dunce, the more you mislike me, the better I love my selfe, whilst I account it the greatest felicity of S.M.

To be rid of such a foole.

A Letter from a distressed lover.

MAdam, as my cares proceed from your cruelty, so let the effects of your cour­tesie procure my blisse, since the perfections of your beauty have made me miserable, let mee begge of you to send the messenger of present consolation to him that pineth away and is yours only and ever.

Still in hope.

A Letter from a lover professing constancy.

THey who have the honour to see you run a dangerous fortune: if they love you, they are saucy; if they love not, they are without judgment; now faire creature, I have chosen that which is most after my humour; and from which it is impossible for me to withdraw my selfe, thinke it not hard Cruell Diana, that having seene you, I love you: if this boldnesse deserve punishment, you caused it, and it is no more in my choice, for I must while I live, be your ser­vant or not be alive, Farewell.

A letter from an inconstant lover

I Write not now to tell you that I love, for you have believed it but too well, but to assure you that I shall love you no more, perhaps you may be amaz'd at this alterati­on, for you have alwayes loved me above my desires; but that which drawes me from you is, I must confesse your misfortune that will no longer continue to you the pleasure of our loves, or rather my good fortune which will have me no longer stay at so poore a thing, and to the end you may live to com­plaine of mee, I bid you for ever, Fare­well.

Her answer.

SIR, It was your arrogancy perswa­ded you I loved you, wherein you were most infinitely mistaken, I sweare to thee by all the merits which thou thinkst thou hast but are not in thee, there was never any such likely matter, as for the [Page 230] Letter thou hast sent mee I cannot bee un­thankfull to thee for the pleasure thou hast done me in it, since it hath taught me to re­ject hereafter the importunities of such cox-combes as your self, in the meane time be as content as I am, in being freed of such a burden: beleeve me Sir, it is no small happi­nesse. Farewell.

A Lover to his inconstant Mistris.

IT is not to complaine of you Mistris, that I take up my pen, but only to deplore my misfortunes which make me so contemned of you, since at other times you were not wont to use me in this sort. I am the same man that have served you in all respective submission, and you are the same that at first were mine, since you received me for yours. I am become no lesse, nor you greater; if it be so, why doe you not judge me worthy of the same entertainement? I have called my soule to an account for her actions, since it pleaseth you, I will display them all before your eyes: for my part, I cannot accuse any one of them, if you shall judge otherwise [Page 231] when you have heard them, it shall bee no small consolation to the poore condemned to know at least the cause of his punish­ment; adieu cruell one.

A Letter.

IF love taught me as well to speak my tor­ment, as to suffer it, my pity would make you sensible of my plaints, but dumb in their too much sufferance. I have but my constan­cy, for remedy, that is all my hope; your sweetnesse, for my desire; and your com­mand, for mine honour, Mistris, for my quality is,

Your most humble Servitour.

Another.

SInce your merits cause my torment, I will never complaine: the more rigorous you shall be, the more constantly I will oppose all my respects, to your neglects; my ho­nours, to your disdaines; and my fire, to your ice; if I breath, it shall be love; if I [Page 232] sigh, it shall be in passion for your service: In a word, if I be, I shall be,

Mistris,
Your servitour.

Letter.

TO have no soule, but to adore you; to have no heart, but to love you; and but one only life, for your service; have you not cause to complaine? You, whose beauty, hath so many charmes; and merits, so many baites, that one would detest this name of liberty, to die your slave. Should one talke of miracles, you are the example; in dis­course of rarities, you are the comparison: so that Heaven and nature are in dispute, for whom you were made. Now to say, I am your servitour, that is a quality too high: to say I am your slave, that's yet too lofty. Be­hold my Surname, now give me what name you please.

Letter.

IF for desiring death, one were to loose his life, I should have beene gone long since: for too much love, makes me hate my selfe: but mee thinkes the more I live, I still lengthen my daies: and that being wret­ched, I ought to live the longer: I flie that which flies me, the grave: so as I have nei­ther comfort of my life, nor hope of my death. And thus I am,

Mistris,
Alwaies your servitour.

Another.

TO love, and not to be loved, is to live without hope, and by donsequent, to die. Have you resolved my death, and by disdaining my services, to forget them for requitall? It is too much rigour, for your beautie: you will confesse it one day, but too late for your repentance, for I shall no longer by consequence subsist, as I am for the present, Mistris, The most humbe of all Your servants.

A Letter.

MIstris, Thus to forbid me to love you, and to will mee not to honour you, what would you have me doe (my deares) I must change my heart, if I would change my Mistris; and Nature must give me other inclinations, to deprive you of my respects, and of my obedience: forbid me to live ra­ther; I will dye, but it shall be for love, and so at the price of my dayes, I shall doe you service; leaving this truth, for a remem­brance to after times.

A Letter from a Gentleman to his Mistris.

IT is you, faire creature, that have gained this advantage upon me, that I forget my selfe, to remember you perpetually. Do not thinke, that unlesse I see you shortly, I can longer survive, whereby I might continue the affection of my services to you. So that two things will infallibly bring mee to my grave; your absence, and my griefe, for not [Page 235] acquitting mee towards you, as I desire. Choose now (faire soule) whether you had rather have me dead for your content, or to see mee daily offer you up the fruits of my services, upon the altar of your merits, in the quality of

Your most loyall, and most affectionate Servitour.

A Letter of a Gentleman, evill spoken of for the love of his Mistris.

SOme one that is envious of my happi­nesse, had a mind to calumniate me to­wards you, and to perswade you, that I have shewed some testimonies of affection to another besides you, who have sooner be­lieved it of me then I should have done of you, if the like had beene reported to mee. Shall I accuse you then? Or shall I excuse my selfe? For you make me an overture for both. Should I excuse my selfe? That would make me guilty in some sort: and if I accuse you not, I shall witnesse that I honour you, and love you still, as your owne faithfull purchase.

A Letter of a difference betwixt a Gentle­man, and his Mistris.

I Thinke it was no inviolable vow that was betwixt us, when we sware so so­lemnly. But for ought I can learne, the change hath better pleased you, then the continuance of my services. I know not whom I shall accuse, you, or I; for possibly the long time I have beene without seeing you, is the cause of it, or else you have beene drawne to it by your owne naturall condi­tion. Make me such an answer as you please. No earthly thing shall hinder me from lo­ving you, for I had rather choose a thousand deaths, than to be inconstant in my love: and will flie, with the hazzard of my life, the reproach of disloyalty (whether you will or no.)

Your servitour inviolably.

A Letter of a Gentleman, after a visit to a Lady.

MIstris, the honour I received in the late visite I made to my deare Cozen at your house, hath so obliged me to both of you, that I thought I should commit a hai­nous fault, if by some honest endeavour, I should not witnesse a feeling of it. If ever I have the happinesse to see you at my home, which is yours, I shall endeavour to make you as welcome, as I can; and doe conjure you to come see my Sister, as you have pro­mised her; otherwise, farewell all friend­ship; not so neverthelesse, but that the mean while I desire to continue,

Mistris,
Your Cozen, and best friend.

A Letter, of a fond Maid, that disdained the service and love of a gallant Gentle­man; who was counselled to dis­daine her also.

FOrsake that Maide, that forsakes you, and no more remember her forgetful­nesse. She hath changed, to change your mishap. She hath changed, that shee might not change her natures inconstancy; Her small acquaintaince, should make you know her fault. Your good iudgement, may shew you what a little she hath. You can­not but get by the losse of her. If you lose a sweet heart, you gaine a liberty; you should keepe some love for your selfe, and not cast it all away from you. If you love something, do not hate your selfe for all that. If fortune give you any thing, she will be well rewarded. If she take a heart from you, think it was not yours. Whersoever you goe, tarry with your content, and love not what is contrary to you; unlesse you will contra­ry him, that loves you dearely,

Even to the Grave.

A brave reply of a Gentleman to his Mistris by way of Derision.

Escopites,

THe small shot of your beauty, doth e­nough singe the doublet of my soule, without the Canion of your rigour to break the very bones of my pretences. You have enough forraged the plaines of my heart, without moreover billeting there the Regi­ment of despaire, which runnes after mee, even to the ruine of my life. Alas! I pray you doe not let those Carabins of disdaine eate up the bread of my hopes, nor beat up the bongues of my fidelity, that are so full of good wine of patience. I have so often told you, that as soone as the Baker of your bounty, should have heated the Oven of your heart, I would set in the bread of my thoughts. But the bad rich man of your judgement, hath despised my poore Devill of desire, that is going now to die in the Hospitall. Out alas! Gogs-nigges, what will become of the Goates of my conceits, if this wicked woman of your cruelty, pull the bed from under them of my content­ment, [Page 240] to make them snap at the crust of your Ieeres? No, I beleeve the bottle of my per­severance once broken, you will bewaile the Orleans wine of my devotion, when you will get none else, but some tart wines of faining, which will vexe the tongue of your knowledge. But if you rid your hands of that vicious horse of your distrust, I be­leive the rest will not rush upon the Bibets of my thoughts, which hold the bridle of constancy. What ever befals, the Pilgrims of my designes, desiring the Scollop-shels of your friendship, will be still grobling in the dirt of good courage. But if the feet of my offers, take bladders of refusall, farewell Cu­pid's voyage. The vintages of my services will be soone done, if the haile of your pride blast the grape of my pursuite. But whilst the sythe of your judgement, moves the grasse of your rigours, I shall ever kisse the hands of your perfections, and make my selfe an everlasting wood of the fire of your beauty.

A Letter of holy love betweene two lovers, containing three letters besides.

YOu have made me feele, faire Calistena, the ardent sparkles of your friendship; the memory whereof I shall still honour, and esteeme my selfe a great deale the more happy, if my happinesse may prove more extreame, when I shall burne in its flames, wherein my soule shall live with a thousand delights, and my heart resume new life in its ashes. And that I may be condemned to this wished punishment, doe not let your faire mind conceive any doubt of my loves eternity, since constancy shall bee ever its faithfull companion, and that the fire which kindled it, can never be quenched, should it be combated by the Ice proceeding from that feare you might have of your enviers. And if it were so, yet would it melt, as soon as you should but contemplate the Sunne-beames of my discretion. You may as well assure your selfe of the effect of my words, [Page 242] as I doe of the consummation of my hope; which have none other scope, then to serve your merits, and to fit up to your use.

Your faithfull Floridon, &c.

A Letter in answere.

YOur desires are my lawes (deere Flori­don) and your loyalty cannot finish but with mine: they shall both alike shine bright over our lives, and nourish them­selves with our flames; wherein I shall thinke mee very happy to live with you. That silence which knit up my tongue at your faire discourses, proceeded only out of feare: you might know that, by my exte­riour signes, which sufficiently shewed you, how sorely it greived mee: but with you only: for I would not have you think me in any sort afraid of the scorching sparkes of the envious, since nothing can withstand that faithfull love, which from hencefor­ward is contracted, by

Your deare Calista, &c.

Another.

IF my stedfast love were not answered by yours (deare Calista) I should have reason to complaine of you, and my complaints would be so stout, as not to give way to ought, but torments. But must I needs open the gaets to sorrowes, when your Letter is an article of my faith, and that you suffer a thousand tortures for my love? I doubt not, but envie hath beene buzzing something in my Parents cares of our loves, and that Felicity her selfe, as iealous of our content­ments, might put such a poore tricke upon us. But you have so faire a soule, and so ge­nerous, that you will constantly repulse all those onsets to honour still, with your love,

Your faithfull Floridon.

A Letter in answer.

PLeasures are of short continuance, and their faire dayes are too soone eclipsed, wee cannot promise our selves a long en­joyment of them, since they are in the hands of the great IEHOVAH. It is constancy that gives us happinesse, af­ter all our adversities. You are the sub­ject of my by-past sorrow (deare Flori­don) but now your presence serves mee for Sunne-beames: though indeed some doubts of future obstacles doe even bury mee in an obscure night of anguish. And were it not that joy followes sorrow, I had ere this skipt over the step of this life of mine, to bee freed of my paine. But, time will one day give us the happinesse to make each other amends, by recei­ving usury for our patience. Bee com­forted [Page 245] then in your selfe, and consider so well with your discretion (though I bee thus in my feares) that there wants no­thing but the Spire of our felicities, which we shall attaine to I hope shortly, or it shall be no fault of hers, who is

Your faithfull CALISTA, in as much as you desire with honour.

Stiles and Tearmes used to The King, or Queenes Majesty, either in our Speech, or in Su­perscriptions of Petitions di­rected to them.

If you present any thing.

Sir, May it please your Majesty.

If you write in forme of a petition to the King.

Sir, May it please your Majesty to under­stand, or to grant.

To the Queene.

Madam, May it please your Majesty.

On the Superscription of some businesse, di­rected both to the King and Queene.

To the most Excellent, and most Mighty, Caesar Augustus.

To the most Excellent, most mighty Lady the Queene.

A Stile used by Men of Quality, when they speake to the King.

[Page 246] Sir, May it please your Majesty.

To the Queene.

Madam, May it please your Majesty.

Stiles used to the Nobility in our Superscrip­tions are diverse, but the most generall are these.

If to an Arch-Bishop.

To the most Reverend Father in God.

If to a Bishop.

To the right Reverend Father in God.

If to a Noble man, eminent in place.

To the Right Honourable.

Or otherwise.

To the Honourable.

To persons of inferiour degrees.

To the right worshipfull.

Otherwise.

To the worshipfull.

Divisions of Letters.

AMorous, loving Letters.

Morall, civill Letters.

Oeconomicall, household Letters.

Politicall, witty Letters.

[Page 247]Excusatory, Defensive Letters.

Petitionary, Letters of Request.

Gratulatory, Letters of Thankes.

Nuncupatory, Letters of Newes.

Subscriptions, with Subscriptions adjoyned to them, as they are most properly applyed.

TO the High and most Mighty Mo­narch.

Your Majesties most faithfull and obedi­ent Subject.

To the Right Honourable.

Your Honours most humble devoted.

To his Honourable Lord.

Your Honours in all duty and service.

To the Honourable, and his highly respe­cted Lady.

Your Honours to command.

Or, Your Honours devoted.

To the worthy and Noble.

Ever yours to serve you.

To the right Honourable and his highly esteemed Patron.

Your Honours observant.

[Page 248]To his most loving Father.

Your obedient Sonne.

To his dearely beloved Wife.

Your most loving Husband.

To his loving Vncle.

Your observant kinsman.

To the honourable Colonel.

Yours sworne to worthinesse,

To the onely life of his desires.

Your afflicted friend.

To the fulnesse of his contentment.

Your living and dying friend.

To the onely hope of his fortunes.

The honourer of your matchlesse perfections.

To the noble and truly vertuous Gentlewo­man;

Yours in death it selfe.

To his best choyce.

Yours, in the midst of feare.

To his virtuous, and dearely beloved.

Yours ever resolved.

To the Mistris of his thoughts.

Yours, dying in Constancy.

To his beloved friend.

Yours assured.

To the lovingest of all my friends.

[Page 249] Yours inseparably.

To his highly esteemed friend.

Yours, as I have professed,

To his tried and trusty friend.

Not living without you.

To his honourable friend.

Yours in true friendship.

To his newly displeased friend.

Yours, if you wrong her not.

To her best resolved friend.

Yours wheresoever.

To his well advised friend.

Yours, and vertues.

To his loving, and long expected friend.

Yours, with good wishes.

To his respected friend.

Yours, well assured.

To his approved friend.

Yours in true liberty.

To her much disquieted friend.

Yours in honourable love.

To his loving Neece.

Your affectionate kinsman.

To his dearest Brother.

Yours in all occasions.

To his well experienced and much esteemed noble friend.

[Page 250] Yours as you can desire.

To his well disposed friend.

Yours to trust onely.

To her dearest Husband.

Your ever loving Wife.

To his much disordered friend.

Yours in reformation.

To his unkinde friend.

Yours, if you will have it so.

To his ill advised Sonne.

Your displeased Father.

To his miserable rich friend.

Yours, if you can be your owne.

To the worthy Lady.

Yours, as a lover of Honour.

To her unkinde Husband.

Your true Wife till death.

To his perjur'd, and lacivious Wife.

Your Husband if you do not divide him.

To her jealous Husband.

Yours in her very thoughts.

To his suddenly displeased friend.

Yours, when you conceive aright of me.

To his well resolved friend.

Yours, whilst mine owne.

To her unkind friend.

Yours, and yet displeased.

[Page 251]To his honourable and good friend.

Yours, if you thinke me worthy.

To his well esteemed friend.

Yours most dutifull if you will accept of Humiliation.

To his true helping friend.

Yours recovered.

To his worthy friend, adventurer in the Straites.

Yours individed, though farre off.

To his noble and constant friend.

Yours, though amongst Infidels.

To his respected and worthy friend.

Yours, as you have made me.

To his carefull friend.

Yours, mindfull of you.

To the worthy Doctor.

Your sicke Patient.

To his honourable Captaine.

Yours, though we never meet againe.

To his approved friend.

Yours in all places, and at all times.

To his especiall friend.

My owne, if in your memory.

To the most perfect of Women.

Yours in the midst of temptation.

[Page 252]To his honourable enemy.

Yours, ready for all dangers.

To his well deserving friend.

Yours unfainedly.

To his over suspicious friend.

Yours, to trust only.

To his wilfull, and seduced friend.

Your poore abused friend.

For the Readers greater pleasure and va­riety, these Subscriptions onely are here placed by themselves.

YOur carefull Father.

Your dutifull Sonne.

Your loving Master.

Your obedient Servant.

Ʋsque ad aras.

The unfortunate.

Your well wishing friend.

In all humble duty.

Ever thine.

Thy discontented friend.

In all obedience.

[Page 253]Faithfully yours.

Thy true friend.

Yours, more than mine owne.

Never lesse his owne.

Thy most constant friend.

As you shall determine of me.

Affectionately devoted to your service.

Your loving Landlord.

Your Worships poore Tenant to command.

Thy sometimes friend.

Yours not safe till I enjoy you.

Yours irremovably.

Yours prepared to suffer.

Yours, in boundlesse affection.

Your servant.

Your Honours friend.

Yours most passionatly, loyally, and perpe­tually devoted.

Yours, as farre as modesty will suffer me.

Yours, if you please to accept of me.

Yours, as I find cause.

Your best Counsellor.

Your injured Mistris.

Your affectionate poore friend.

Once thy Friend.

Your entire Vassall.

Remaining your friend.

[Page 254]Yours, in respective duty.

Yours, as a lover of vertue.

Yours, fearefully loving.

Yours, well affected.

Your plaine and true friend.

Your Worships to be commanded.

Your friend to his ability.

Animae dimidium tuae.

Yours in unutterable affection.

Your loyall Wife.

Your imprisoned friend.

No longer your friend.

Yours wholly, and onely, if you will.

Yours, so I may be my owne.

Thine, or not his selfe.

Your distressed Debtor.

Yours, as you shall deserve by your service.

Your sorrowfull friend.

Yours, what you will.

Your forsaken friend.

Your vowed servant.

Your enemy, till death.

Your friend, whether you will or no.

Your true love.

Yours ever.

One, alwayes yours.

Thine owne from all the world.

[Page 255]Yours, in all good sort to be entertained.

Your friend confirmed in all fidelity.

Thine to the end.

Desirous of your reformed imagination.

Yours, more sorry for your ill conditions, then for the wrong you have done me.

Your faithfull and ready friend.

Your most humble and passionate Servant.

Yours, in the infringable bonds of affection.

The servant of your worthy virtues.

Yours, most respectfully engaged.

Your ever friend and Servant.

Your Lordships unfained honourer, and loyall Servant.

A Table for the understand­ing of the hard ENGLISH words, contained in this Worke.

A
  • ACute Wittie.
  • Amiable Lovelie.
  • Apt Fit.
  • Austere Sharpe.
  • Aspire To looke high.
  • Abstemious Temperate.
  • Amplifie To inlarge.
  • Advertise To advise.
  • Augment To increase.
  • Aspect To looke vpon.
  • Absurd Foolish.
  • Applaud To like.
  • Altitude Hight.
  • Acknowledgment Confes­sion.
  • Attractive Drawne to.
  • Aspiration Breathing.
  • Abhorre To hate.
  • Audacious Bold.
  • Alacrity Cheerefulnesse.
  • Aparent Open.
  • Abjure To forsweare.
  • Active Nimble.
  • Anguish Griefe.
  • Apertinent Belonging to
  • Auspicious Betokening successe.
  • Abruptly Vnorderly.
  • Ambiguity Doubtfulnes.
  • Arrogant Proud.
  • Accommodate To make fit
  • Aggravate To make more grievous.
  • Adverse Contrary.
  • Apprehension Vnderstan­ding.
  • Affable Courteous.
  • Artificially Workeman­like.
  • Affectation Curiositie.
  • Academy Vniversity.
  • Amity Friendship.
  • Abbreviate To shorten.
  • Ardent Hot.
  • Adorne To beautifie.
  • Antipathie Contrariety.
  • Adore To worship.
  • Affectionate Loving.
  • Accurate Curious.
  • Act To doe, or to per­forme.
  • [Page] Accident Chance.
  • Assent To agree to.
  • Accomplish To finish.
  • Amaze To strike with wonder,
  • Admire To wonder at.
  • Absolutely Fully.
  • Adventure To hazzard.
B
  • BEneficiall Profitable.
  • Blisse Happinesse.
  • Bashfull Blushing.
  • Brevity Shortnesse.
  • Benevolence Goodwill.
  • Bruit Report.
  • Barbarian A rude person.
  • Beatitude Blessednesse.
  • Besiege To set vpon or Court.
C
  • COmplexion Consti­tution of body.
  • Convince To confute.
  • Credulity Rashnesse of be­liefe.
  • Celestiall Heavenly.
  • Civill Honest behaviour.
  • Comprehend To contain.
  • Circumspect Heedy.
  • Celebrate To keepe so­lemnly.
  • Compassion Pittie.
  • Consequent Following by order.
  • Correspondent Answe­rable.
  • Contrite Sorrowfull.
  • Capacity Largenesse of place.
  • Circumstance Quality of time and place.
  • Condescend To agree to.
  • Cogitation Thought.
  • Catastrophy The end.
  • Credible To be beleeued
  • Contribution Bestowing.
  • Confirme To establish.
  • Casuality Chance.
  • Compose To joyne.
  • Clemency Gentlenesse.
  • Convenient Fit.
  • Consecrate To make holy
  • Center A circle.
  • Competent Convenient.
  • Circumvent To deceive.
  • Compendious Short.
  • Certifie To give to vn­derstand.
  • Conferre To talke toge­ther.
  • Corrivals Partners in af­fection.
  • Contract To covenant.
  • Circumscribe To compasse about.
  • Commencement The be­ginning.
  • Contemptible To bee de­spised.
  • Commemoration Remem­bring.
  • Circumlocution Many words.
  • Converse To be familiar.
  • Continent Chaste.
  • Charmes Spels or witch­craft.
  • Conduct Guiding, gover­ning.
  • [Page] Curiosity Neatenesse.
D
  • DIre Cruell.
  • Distracted Mad.
  • Divert To turne from a­nother.
  • Direct To guide.
  • Divulge To publish.
  • Delineat To draw a pro­portion.
  • Desist Leave off.
  • Dissimilitude Vnlikenesse.
  • Disperse To scatter a­broad.
  • Diety God-head.
  • Disloyall Vntrusty.
  • Distinguish To put a diffe­rence.
  • Decipher To describe or lay open.
  • Distant Place betweene.
  • Dispose To appoint.
  • Deformed Ill shapen.
  • Disturbe To disquiet.
  • Dialect A manner of speech.
  • Define To show what a thing is.
  • Dissolve To unloose.
  • Disswade To perswade to the contrary.
  • Discusse To search nar­rowly.
  • Digresse To leave a mat­ter.
  • Decent Comely.
  • Disannull To make voyd.
  • Dilate To inlarge.
  • Destitute Forsaken.
  • Defame To slander.
  • Destinated Appointed.
  • Disputable Questionable.
  • Determine To conclude.
  • Dedicate To give for e­ver.
  • Dismisse To send away.
  • Difficult Hard.
  • Defraud To deceive.
  • Desertion Leaveing.
  • Display To spread a­broad.
  • Dexterity Aptnesse.
  • Dejected Cast downe.
  • Demeanor Behaviour.
  • Diffuse To poure out.
  • Disability Vnablenesse.
  • Deprive To take away.
  • Disjunction Dividing.
  • Deride To mocke.
  • Dismall Vnluckie.
  • Diffident Doubt­full.
  • Delude To de­ceiue.
  • Dissent To disa­gree.
  • Depend To hang vpon.
  • Deliberate To take coun­sell.
  • Dehort To perswade to the contrary.
  • Degenerate To fall off from goodnesse.
  • Defects Weakenesse of ca­pacity.
  • Dissipate Scatter a­broad.
E
  • Expression Laying o­pen off.
  • Expert Skilfull.
  • Extract To draw out.
  • Exact Perfect.
  • Erronious Full of errors.
  • Effect A thing done.
  • Embleme A shadow of a thing.
  • Evident Plaine.
  • Expect To waite or look for.
  • Exempt Free.
  • Extinguish To put out.
  • Efficacy Force.
  • Enflame To set on fire.
  • Expedient Fit.
  • Expire To dye.
  • Extenuate To lessen.
  • Essence The being of a thing.
  • Eccho A sound.
  • Experiment Tryall.
  • Extend To spread forth.
  • Elaborate Curious.
  • Exhib te To bestow.
  • Expostulate To chide with.
  • Evasion A escape.
  • Eclipse Darknesse of the Sunne.
  • Extempore Without sin. die.
  • Exanimate To trouble the mind.
  • Education Bringing vp,
  • Epithete A title given to any thing.
  • Expence Cost.
  • Exasperate To anger.
  • Evitable To be shunned.
  • Excessive Too much.
  • Effeminate To womanish.
  • Exorable To be intreated
  • Elegancy Finenesse of speech.
  • Expedition Speed.
  • Exigent Necessity.
  • Election Choise.
  • Explicite Vnfolded.
  • Eloquution Good expres­sion.
  • Exile Banished.
  • Explicate To declare.
  • Estimate Price or rate.
  • Enjoy Keep or posseffe.
  • Engaged Indebted.
  • Event End, succeffe.
  • Extraordinary More then common.
F
  • FRivolous Trifeling.
  • Fortunate Happy.
  • Fiction A tale.
  • Fatall Mortall.
  • Fortitude Valor.
  • Fervent Hot.
  • Fulgent Glistring.
  • Figurative Shadowed.
  • Faculty Power or ability.
  • Finite Having an end.
  • Fruition Injoying.
  • Fabulous Fained.
  • Fraudulent Deceitfull.
  • Fragrant Smelling sweet
  • Fallacy Deceit.
  • Fidelity Trustines.
  • Fantasie Imagination.
  • Felicity Happineffe.
  • [Page] Feature Shape.
  • Foundation Groundwork
  • Falsifie To breake ones word.
G
  • GRatifie To pleasure
  • Genuine Naturall.
  • Gratulate To be glad.
  • Generosity Nobility.
  • Glorifie To give honour.
H
  • HAbitude Disposition
  • Heroicall Beseem­ing a Nobleman.
  • Harmony Agreement.
  • Hereditary By succession.
  • Habit Apparell.
I
  • IMproper Vnfit.
  • Incident Hapning.
  • Introduction Entrance.
  • Issue Euent.
  • Immature Vnripe.
  • Improvident Carelesse.
  • Irefull Angry.
  • Iudicious Vnderstanding
  • Indulgence Sufferance.
  • Imprudent Ignorant.
  • Illustrate To make plain.
  • Inamoured In Love.
  • Immutable Vnchangeable
  • Ineffable Vnspeakable.
  • Include Shut in.
  • Ignoble Of base birth.
  • Interpret To expound.
  • Insolent Proud.
  • Incurre To run into.
  • Invective Speaking a­gainst.
  • Indignation Anger.
  • Immaculate Vnspotted.
  • Incommodious Hurtfull.
  • Instinct An inward moti­on.
  • Intricate Doubtfull.
  • Improbable Not to bee proved.
  • Interrupt To let.
  • Induce To move to.
  • Impediment Hinderanee.
  • Incommunicable Not to be imparted.
  • Intolerable Insufferable
  • Intercept To prevent.
  • Impenetrable Not to bee pierced.
  • Insist To stay vpon.
  • Indecent Not comely.
  • Interdict To forbid.
  • Imperious Desiring rule.
  • Infallible Not deceivable
  • Institute To appoint.
  • Intimate To signifie.
  • Intermission Breaking off.
  • Implore Desire with teares.
  • Impertinent. Not pertai­ning.
  • Implacable Not to bee pleased.
  • Insult To triumph.
  • Incompatible Insuffera­ble.
  • Instable Inconstant.
  • Individual Not to be par­ted.
  • [Page] Inspire To breath into.
  • Inculpable Without fault
  • Incomprehensible Not to be conceived.
  • Insensible Not to bee per­ceived.
  • Incredulous Hardly to be beleeved.
  • Inseparable Not bee divi­ded.
  • Intentive Earnestly bent.
  • Integrity Pureneffe.
  • Insensity Without feeling
  • Indisposition Backeward­nesse.
L
  • LInguist Skilfull in tongues.
  • Lenitie Gentleneffe.
  • Labyrinth Full of win­dings.
  • Loyall Obedient trusty.
  • Languishing Pining.
  • Literature Learning.
  • Laudible worthy of praise.
  • Lascivious Wanton.
  • Luster Brightneffe.
M
  • MOllifie To make soft.
  • Maxime A principle.
  • Mutable Changeable.
  • Manifest Open.
  • Metamorphosis Changing of shape.
  • Magnificent Sumptuous.
  • Mitigate Asswage.
  • Mentall Belonging to the mind
  • Malecontent Discontnt.
  • Mature Ripe.
  • Mirror A glasse.
  • Metaphor Similitude.
  • Muses Goddesses of lear­ning.
  • Menace To threaten.
  • Morality Civill behavi­our.
  • Multiplicity Variety.
  • Magitians Sorcerers wit­ches.
  • Melancholy Griefe, sad­nesse.
  • Merits Deserts.
N
  • NVptiall Belonging to marriage.
  • Notion Inward know­ledge.
  • Nuncupatory Declaring.
  • Native, Where one is borne.
O
  • OPposite Contrary.
  • Odious Hatefull.
  • Originall First beginning
  • Obscure Darke.
  • Object A thing set against
  • Oratory Eloquent speech.
  • Obsequious Serviceable.
  • Officious Dutifull.
  • Obdurate Hardened.
  • Omit To let passe.
  • Oprobrious Reprochfull.
  • Obliged Bound to.
  • Occurrences Occasions.
  • Ominous Signifies good or ill lucke.
  • [Page] Operation Effect.
  • Observant Dutifull.
  • Odoriferous Smelling sweetly.
  • Ornament Adorning.
  • Oprobrious Reproachfull.
  • Ordained Appointed.
P
  • PRopitious Favourable
  • Ponderous Waighty.
  • Period End of a sentence.
  • Prolixe Tedious.
  • Persist To continue.
  • Parragon A patterne or example.
  • Prostrate To fall on the ground.
  • Perplexity Trouble.
  • Placable Easie to please.
  • Progresse Going forward.
  • Position A question dispu­ted.
  • Paradoxe A strang speech.
  • Project A plot.
  • Prefixed Set before.
  • Patronize To defend.
  • Promiscuous Confused.
  • Perfidious Traiterous.
  • Polish Make faire.
  • Prohibit To forbid.
  • Pretermit To passe-over.
  • Permanent Continuing.
  • Precipitate To cast down.
  • Prosecute Follow after.
  • Prejudice To hinder.
  • Permission Sufferance.
  • Procrastinate To delay.
  • Perspicuous Cleere.
  • Prescription Limitation.
  • Participate To partake.
  • Personate To counterfeit a person.
  • Probable Proved true.
  • Perpetuity Continuance.
  • Phantasie Imagination.
  • Peculiar Proper.
  • Patheticall Full of passi­ons.
  • Perfections Gifts of na­ture.
  • Perfumes Sweet smels.
  • Passionately Truly loving
  • Perpetuall Everlasting.
R
  • RIgorous Cruell.
  • Repulse To drive backe.
  • Rusticall Vnmannerly.
  • Reject To cast away.
  • Reduce To bring backe.
  • Revolve To determine in the mind.
  • Resemblance Likenesse.
  • Ratifie To confirme.
  • Resigne To give to ano­ther.
  • Repeale To call backe a­gaine.
  • Repute To esteeme.
  • Resplendent Shining bright.
  • Ridiculous To be laught at.
  • Reserve To keepe.
  • Reall Substantiall.
  • Reiterate Repeat againe.
  • Respite To defer.
  • Remit To forgive.
  • Refractory Obstinate.
  • Reassume To take again.
  • Remunerate Reward.
  • Reliques The remainder.
  • Reference Pointing at.
  • [Page] Regall Princely.
  • Retribution A reward.
  • Refulgent Shining.
  • Reflection Casting backe.
  • Reputation Credit good name.
  • Reflect To Looke, cast an eye.
  • Remaine To continue constant.
  • Reprovable To be blamed
  • Rarities Things hard to be found.
S
  • Supreame Highest.
  • Splendent Glistering.
  • Succeed To follow.
  • Structure Building.
  • Serenity Calmnes.
  • Simpathy Fellow-feeling.
  • Supposition Thinking.
  • Sollicite To moue.
  • Succinct Short.
  • Suspence A doubt.
  • Sable Black or mournful
  • Submisse Lowly.
  • Superiority above another
  • Select Chosen out.
  • Subsequent following.
  • Spatious Large.
  • Sustaine To suffer.
  • Seduce To deceive.
  • Sublimity Hight.
  • Survive To out-live.
  • Soveraigne Highest autho­rity.
  • Scruple A doubt.
  • Superfluous Needlesse.
  • Symmetry Due proportion of parts.
  • Sensuall Brutish.
  • Stupifie To astonish.
  • Simplicity Plainnes.
  • Subsist To abide.
  • Society Fellowship.
  • Servile Slavish.
  • Sutable Agreeable.
  • Suspitious Doubtfull.
T
  • TResses Locks of haire.
  • Transcendent Cli­ming over.
  • Timorous Fearefull.
  • Triumphant Rejoycing in victory.
  • Tedious Troublesome.
  • Transforme To change.
  • Terrene Earthly.
  • Tranquillity Quietnes.
  • Tolerable May bee suffe­red.
  • Tragicall Sorrowful.
  • Temporize To serve the times,
  • Transparent May be seene
  • Tenent Opinion.
V
  • VNiversall Generall.
  • Vnanimity Of one mind
  • Vitall Lively.
  • Variable Changeable.
  • Value Esteeme.
  • Vulgar Common.
  • Vndervalue Discommend.
  • Vigorous Strong & lusty.
W
  • WReath Garland or Crowne.
FINIS.

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