EVen as the omnipotent and incomprehensible God the beginning of all things (the IDEA and pat­terne of all Good and Good­nesse) is that Almightie Om­nipotencie, which wanteth Beginning and Ending, which being made of None, hath by his owne power created all things: and as another saith excellent well; God is beyond fraile sense to comprehend. Hee, first, beganne All, and of All is End. HOLY ONE, is not alone the Au­thor and Preseruer of this vniuersall world, and of euery thing that moueth therin; but is (likewise) most glorious and most abso­lute, most blessed and most perfect, beyond all humane beliefe and imaginati­on; so hath he giuen and imparted to all creatures, (most Princely Duke, Honourable and Graue Se­nators, and yee my Fellowes and Companions of Amongst other laudable cu­stomes, vsed among the better sort of learned Gentlemen in Italy, their priuate Exercises, called ACADEMIES, are most commendable and praise-worthy, of which the INTRONATI of Sienna, the INFIAMMATI of Padoa, the GELOSI of Rome, the PAZZI, the ZOPPI, and such like, are of most fame and note: the manner whereof is after this sort. A certaine number of Gentlemen (the best Schollers and Courtiers of such Cities, where they enhabit) draw themselues into a Societie and Company together, whereof the Duke himselfe, or the chiefe Magistrate of that Citie is (alwayes) one. These, once a weeke, at some houre set downe, in the after­noone, assemble and meete in a goodly Hall, appoynted for that purpose; where one of them mounteth vp to a place called the Harangue, a little higher than the rest, and in his owne na­turall language maketh an Oration of an houre long, of what Subiect or Theame soeuer himselfe shall like best: this Orator hauing warning so to doe, by an Officer, a pretty while before his day. For they chuse euery halfe yeere a Consull or chiefe Magistrate amongst them, who appoynteth sundry men [...]o the Harangue, for sundry dayes; and when the houre of their Assembly approacheth, all the Gentlemen of that Company repayre to the Consuls house, bringing him honourably to his Chayre, where hee sitteth highest, although the Duke or chiefe Gouernour of that Citie be there present And these be the Gentlemen of the fore-said Academies, who in the Christmas and Carnouall time (tearmed by vs Shroue-tide) deuise many rare showes & sports, presenting before the Ladies and Gentlewomen (there) excellent, witty, and pleasant conceited Comedies, with such like delightfull Exercises, to their owne no small commendations and credit, and to the wonderfull applause and conteutment as well of their owne Countrymen as of all other strangers whatsoeuer. this flourishing ACADEMIE of this most fer­uent [Page 2] and zealous INFIAMMATI,) not onely a naked Substance or Beeing, by meanes whereof they onely are; but moreouer, a good and perfect Beeing, so farre forth, as each ones nature is ap­prehensible and capable. And hereof it procee­deth that all things contend to be like the Creator, so farre as they are able, and naturally couet and desire (aboue all) not onely (simply) to exist and bee, but farther also, to be perfect and hap [...]y, each thing in that, which best standeth with his owne nature and qualitie.

And because (as the He meaneth Aristotle, (Dis­ciple to Plato) who was an ad­mirable singular wittie man, inferiour to None; Platoes Better in varietie of know­ledge, and all the worlds Su­periour in disputation. Philosopher saith in his Booke, De Coelo) God and Nature is that Spirit or di­uine Reason, which is the effi­cient. Cause of naturall works, and the preseruing cause of those things that haue beeing, through the onely power of the heauenly Word. Nature make not any thing in vaine; therefore haue all things their Meanes, Faculties, or Possibilities, as well to attaine vnto these two things, as to preserue and keepe them: for as concerning their existence or beeing, they (generally) haue a kinde of promptnesse and inclination (as wee may tearme it) from Nature her selfe, to defend and protect themselues (as much as their force will giue them leaue) from all such things as may offend, or corrupt them, any way.

Now to doe good, or to doe well, they haue likewise a kinde of appetite or desire, through which instinct, they (all) couet, and seeke, what is good, or (at least) that which they imagine to be good for them: As contrariwise, they shunne, and haue in hatred, what, eyther is, or, which may be presupposed by them, to be hurtfull, and bad, considering they are (many times) deceiued be­fore they be aware.

Neyther must we thinke, that the knowledge of the The exteriour Senses are the powers of the Soule and Bo­dy, and are in number fiue, viz. Seeing, Hearing, Smel­ling, Tasting and Touching: the right vse of which may be set downe thus; Looke, but aright, and long but for your owne. Heare all alike, and Trust, when Truth is knowne. Taste (but to feed) yet feede not (still to please.) Touch neuer more, than law­full is to sieze. The Senses thus you (rightly) shall enioy, Which (oft) makes many, Seruants of annoy. Senses, as well exteriour, as interiour, (as I may say) of liuing Creatures, was giuen them to any other end, but onely for this, viz. that their Iudgements should eyther pricke them forward [Page 3] to good, or else draw them backe from that which is euill: and the Actions of these Faculties or Powers, which our The Soule is a created Sub­stance, invisible, incorporall, and immortall, resembling the Image of her Creator: Plato deuideth the Soule into three parts, in his Timeus, placing Anger in the Heart, Concu­piscence in the Lyuer and Splene, and Reason (the Lady and Gouernesse of the worke) in the Braine. Soules haue to follow such things, as doe delight and helpe, or be loathsome and to be auoyded, were called by the Latines, Plato saith, that Affections in a man, are like Nerues or little Sinewes or strings, wher­by Nature draweth vs for­ward into contraries, as them­selues are contrary; but he that hath giuen his Reason (once) dominion ouer them, shall finde their force of no effect worth esteeming: and to this purpose, one writeth very well thus: Sad perturbations, that Affections guide. Should not giue iudgement till their Cause were [...]ride.Affections or Perturbations of the The Minde is that bright eye which guides the Soule, and gouernes men in all their actions whatsoeuer: and as one saith; The Minde hath in it selfe a Deitie, And in the stretching Circle of the eye All things are compast, all things present still. Will fram'd to power doth make vs what wee will. Minde; but the Tuscanes (following, in this, as in many other matters, the Grecians) tearme them Passions are certaine internall Acts or Operations of the Soule, bordering vpon Reason and Sense, prosecuting some good thing, or flying some ill thing, causing (therewithall) some alteration in the Body. Passions, be­cause the whole minde (being troubled and stir­red vp through the same) doth suffer and endure. Now, of all the perturbations and passions, which haue their Beeing & Breeding in the vnreasonable part of our Soules, and which are chiefly Viz. Loue, Hate, Ioy and Sorrow; and they haue foure chiefe Gouernours, Reason, Patience, Time, and Experience. foure, (as I haue discoursed, heretofore more at large in this place,) there is no question, but that Loue, according to Plato, is three-fold; the first imbraceth Vertue onely; the second is infamous, which preferreth bo­dily pleasure; and the third is of the body and the soule: nothing more noble than the first, than the second nothing more vile: the third is equall to both. But this Loue of which our Author now speaketh, is comprehended in these two lines onely: Loue is a Fiend, a Fire, a Heauen, a Hell, Where Pleasure, Paine, Griefe, and Repentance dwell. But hee that will see a most liuely description of this kinde of Loue, indeede, and more at large, let him reade Mr, Michael Draitons Definition thereof, in The Flowers of English Par­nassus. LOVE aboue all the other three, is (by much odds) most potent and strong, as being that, from whom (if [Page 4] wee consider throughly thereof) All the rest pro­ceede, and therefore not without great reason, was it said of the Father and Prince of Of Virgil it is said, that for his great learning and iudge­ment, hee encountred with Theocritus, vanquisht Hesiodus, and ranne the selfe-same race, as fairely and as well as Homer himselfe did. Romane Poets:

And the auncient Poets, and Theologitians of Greece, meant no other thing, by the mysticall History of Paris (who leauing Pallas the Goddesse of Wisedome, and Iuno the Lady of Wealth and Riches, tooke part with Venus, the Commandresse of Beautie) but to shew the meruailous, and in­credible power of Loue; because Loue dominie­reth ouer vs, as doth our The Stoickes hold, that, onely to be Will, when a thing is firmely and constant­ly desired, and therefore it is defined to be a Desire of any thing with Reason, which is in a wise man onely; but that which is against reason, is cal­led Lust, or an inordinate de­sire, being resident in all Fooles: whereupon an Eng­lish Poet, setting downe the difference betwixt Will and Wit, writes thus: Will holds the royall Scepter in the Soule. And o'er the Passions of the Heart doth raigne. Wit, is the Minds chiefe Iudge, which doth controule Of Fancies Court, the iudge­ment false and vaine. Will puts in practise what the Wit deuiseth. Will euer acts, and Wit contemplates still: And as in Wit the power of Wisedome riseth, All other Vertues, Daughters are to Will, Will, which draweth and forceth vs vnto his scope and drift: this his motion being most vehement, and more stirring than any other whatsoeuer; as well in respect of himselfe, (Loue being most mighty and power­full) as also for that it groweth, and increaseth, with the good leaue, the quicke readines, and best liking of our owne will; so that it is no otherwise, than like that man, who is not alone fiercely spur­red forward with a continuall force, but (as it were) is vrged thereunto, through his owne wil­lingnesse, maugre his owne might, and as they say, quite against the hayre.

And certainely, were it not but that Nature, (who for many respects, is thought by diuers, to be rather a And yet there are foure chiefe bridles by which Nature is curbed, which are Want, Au­thoritie, Hope, and Feare. cruell stepdame, than a kinde and lo­uing mother) had ordayned that all our sweet [Page 5] meates should be (euer) seasoned with sowre sawce, then doubtlesse should euery one be most happy, but To this sense, one imitating Ariosto (herein) saith thus: The ioyes of Louers, if they still should last, Without Affliction, or Dis­quietnesse, That worldly Chances doe amongst them cast, Would be on earth, too great a Blessednesse; Liker to Heauen, than to mor­tall wretchednesse. Therefore the winged God, to let them weete That here on earth is no true Happinesse. A thousand sowres hath tem­pered with one sweet, To make it seeme more dainty, as is meete. aboue all, loyall Louers should be more blessed than the rest. But as no sweetnesse, no pleasure, nor happinesse, are so delightfull, so plea­sant, nor so much desired, as that which procee­deth from Loue; euen so againe, those bitter pils, those vntollerable Griefes, and those disasterous Mischances, or rather Mischiefes, which fall out in Loue, exceede (beyond all comparison,) all other Torments, and Tortures whatsoeuer, as they who haue proued, and tryed them, finde it to be but ouer-true, especially the A Tragedy so called, presen­ted by the Gentlemen of the [...]TRONATI, in Sienna, where all the Actors in the same, came to seuerall vnfortu­nate and disasterous ends. Perottinian Louers.

Yet will I not denie, (but iustifie what I now speake, for a most constant truth) that all those disdainfull Disgraces, but now spoken of, all those burning Martyrings, all those insupportable Pu­nishments; and to be briefe, all those vnspeakable bloudy Passions in Loue, (yea, were they (All placed in one body together) are nothiug, or ra­ther, passing pleasing and sweet, in respect of that one damned Feare, or hellish Suspect, or rather vncurable Plague, and deadly Poyson, cleped Socrates saith, Iealousie is a dis­ease of the minde, proceeding from a Feare, which a man hath, lest that thing be commu­nicated to another, which hee would not (in any wise) haue cōmon, but priuate to himselfe. IEALOVSIE: which (coupled together with Loue,) is no other thing, then (as hath often­times beene deliuered in this place,) A certaine eager and earnest Desire to enioy the Beautie (as a certaine graue and learned Gentleman, our Country-man writeth) is nothing else, but a iust proportion of the parts, with an apt correspondency in colours in these inferiour bodies: of which Subiect [...] the immortall Muse, of our euer memorable SPENSER, singeth thus: Nought vnder heauen, so strongly doth allure The Sense of Man, and all his Minde possesse, As Beauties loueliest bait, that doth procure Great Warriours (oft) their Rigour to suppresse, And mighty Hands forget their Manlinesse. Driuen with the power of an Heart-robbing eye, And wrapt in Flowers of a golden Tresse, That can with melting pleasance mollifie Their hardened Hearts enur'd to Crueltie. Beauty of one [Page 6] alone, by himselfe onely. Of which Subiect, not any Poet, eyther Latine or Graecian, (let it I beseech yee (noble Auditors) be lawfull for mee boldly to speak what I think) nor hath any other Hee saith so, because, none have written at all (to speake of any thing to the purpose,) of this Subiect before, and this ( so much, as hee tearmeth it) is onely here and there a Stanzo of Ariosto's, in his Or­lando Furioso: and this one Sonet of Monsig or Dela Casa, commented vpon by this Au­thor: but now of late a Coun­try-man of mine, although a stranger vnto mee, called Mr. George Wither, hath penn'd diuers witty Satyres, whereof one is of this Subiect, which you may read in his Abuses stript and whipt.discoursed thereon (so much) or so learnedly, as two rare, and (as I may say) diuine Wits of this our Age haue done; the first of which, and the most auncient, was that learned and iudicious Mr. Lodouicus Ariosto, borne in Rheggio, a towne subiect to the Dukedome of Ferrara, wrote that famous worke ORLANDO FVRIOSO, in honour of Cardinall Hipolito d' ESTA, his Lord and Master, (whom hee then followed,) besides di­uers other Bookes, as his Comedies, Tragedies, and Satyres; which Satyres I translated into English Verse, with Notes vpon the same; although, vnknowne to mee, they were set forth in another mans name. In his later time, being somewhat discontented, hee with-drew him­selfe priuately home to his owne house, where after hee had continued a few yeeres, hee dyed of a payne in his stomacke, and was buryed in S. Bennets Church in Ferrara, where hee hath a fayre Monument of white Marble, with his Statue erected thereupon, and this Epitaph: Lodouico Ariosto Poetae, Patritio Ferrariensi, Augustinus Mustus tanto viro, ac de se bene merenti Tumulum & Effigiem Marmoreum are proprio pos [...]it. Ann.Dom. 1571. Alfonzo secundo Duce. Hic ARIOSTVS est situs qui Comico Aures Theatri sparsit vrbanus sale, Satira (que) mores strinxit acer improbos: Heroa cultu, qui FVRENTEM carmine Ducum (que) curas cecinit at (que) praelia, Vates Corona dignus vnus triplici, Cui trina constant quae fuere vatibus, Graijs, Latinis, vix (que) Hetruscis singula. Natus est Ariost. 1474. Vixitannos. 59. Obijt anno salutis, 1533. Idus 8. Iulij. But if you will know his whole life more at large, then reade the fore-said English Satyres, where you shall be satisfied at the full. Lodouic [...] A­riosto of Ferrara; and the other is the reuerend, Lord, Giouanni, surnamed This man was both a Philosopher and a Poet, borne not far from Florence, and liuing within the memory of man. He wrote many Sonnets in praise of a faire Gentlewoman, his Mistresse, called DIANA, of the house of the Saluiati in Florence; and a Treatise in Prose of Good Manners, (ycleped Galateo) much in request amongst the Italians. Hee was very inward with Cardinall Bembo, Speren Speroue, Benedetto Varchi, and other learned men of his time, with whom hee conuersed (for a certaine time) in Venice, in the interim of which, hee wrote an excellent Oration (penn'd in the behalfe of Ho­ratio, Grand-childe to Pope Paul the third, of the house of the Farnesi in Rome) who petitio­ned with the same, to the Emperor Charles the fift, that he might succeed Peter Luigi his father, in the Dukedome of Parma and Piacenza, (as afterward he did) the Emperour commending highly the foresaid Oration. This Giouan de la Casa, held Petrar [...]q to be a better Poet than Dant, contrary to the opinions of most Schollers in those daies. To conclude, he growing in yeeres, returned backe to Florence, where he dyed of the payne of the Collicke, and in the 62 yeere of his age, & lyeth buryed in the Certosi, a Sumptuous Monastery, not far from Florence De la Casa. The one in [Page 7] his first Stanza of his 31. Canzon of his Orlando Furioso, The other in a Sonnet of his owne, no lesse graue, then learned, and as daintie, as euery way witty, which hee made in the prime of his young and blooming yeeres: which Sonnet, I (following the laudable custome of this most flourishing Academie) and to shew my deuoted Affection, and dutious Seruice, vnto you (most Royall Prince) haue made choyse of (this day) to explaine and expound at large, according vnto that small Talent, which it hath pleased the Al­mightie Power to bestow vpon mee.

To commend, as is reason, and were but fitting, the Bountie and Learning of this our Author; his owne Greatnesse, and mine Insufficiencie, his dis­creete Modestie, and natiue Country (common vnto vs Both) forbid mee to say what I should, al­though I am not ignorant, but that as well the one, as the other, is knowne vnto the maior part of you here present: part also, shall you perceiue thereof, by this his admirable Sonnet, which whilest I repeate, and make plaine, vouchsafe of your acustomed gentlenesse (as your courteous nature is wont to doe) with still attention to giue mee the hearing.

[Page 9]THe Subiect of this high and Egelike Son­net, which is both for the Conceit, the Words, and the Order of the Verse, solemne and graue, and repleate, full of a kinde of religious and compassionate Indignation and Anger; see­meth to mee, that it is willing to instruct, and de­clare (no lesse according vnto the truth, and like a wise A Philosopher, according to Cic [...]roes definition, is a Lo­uer of Wisedome, and one that is learned in the know­ledge and vnderstanding of the Arts and Sciences which is the mother of all Vertue & Perfection: the Greeke Mo­numents recording two kinds of Philosophers. The Italian [...] out of that part of Italy, whi­lome called Magna Gretia, and the Ionian in the Country now called Grece; Pithag [...]ra [...] of Samos, being the first Au­thor of the name of Philoso­phers. Philosopher, then There are seauen kindes of Poetizing, in the Florenti [...] tongue, as this our Author re­porteth in his Italian Herc [...]l [...] ­no. The first and principall is that of Dant and Petrarcq: the second, of Luigi, and Lucas Pu [...]cio (brethren [...]) the third, as Burchiello wrote (for he also was a Poet:) the fourth, the Chapiters of Ber [...]ia: the fift, the Sonnets of An [...]on [...] Alleman [...]: and besides these fiue, there are two, to sing Pastorals; the one in left, as that called N [...]ncia, di Lorenzo de Medices, and that Beca, of Lewis Pulci; and another in truth and in good earnest: and this also is diuided into two parts, for some write Eglogs, in loose Verse, and the other in Verse, ending in meeter or rime: and this also is done two manner of wayes▪ e [...]ther with ordinary versifying, or with that long kinde of smooth, sliding, and running Rim [...], which S [...]nazar vsed in his Writings and is in Italian called Sdursciol [...]. Poetically, with great Inuention is an [...] [...]hat hath more of the Wit, Imitation of the Will, yet Imitation commeth short of Inue [...] [...] though Inuention is the most dangerous of both. Inuention and Skill) what thing Iealousie is, whence it springeth, how it is nourished, and what a wicked, and hurtfull plague it is. And this hee sheweth, by the Effects, and Accidents of the same, which being more apparant, and better knowne vnto vs, (than the Occasions and Sub­stance thereof) will stand vs in great stead (as te­stifieth Aristotle in his first Booke De Anima, to learne vs to know, of what nature and condi­tion it is: and therefore hee fayneth (or perhaps because it was so indeede) to discharge, and to driue from him, that frightfull Monster, and in­fernall Fury, which with her sad and blacke poy­son, had very much troubled him, in his Busi­nesse, turning all his amorous sweetnesse into sowre and hatefull bitternesse. Neyther gaue shee ouer, (as if it had beene but a small thing to vexe him euery houre,) but rather became more grieuous, and troublesome (continually) vnto him. And although this Sonnet, might be deuided into two especiall parts, yet for our [Page 10] more ease, and for the better vnderstanding there­of (because the matter is very difficult and hard) wee will diuide it into foure Stanza's:

The first thus:

In this first part, in which the foure things (be­fore specified) are contayned, our Poet, no lesse learnedly than briefly, speaketh to IEALOVSIE, and most artificially calleth her, not by her di­rect and playne name, but vseth a Periphrasis here, and setteth downe a description of her, saying; ‘Care, thou that nourishest thy selfe, &c.’

And this course did Ariosto take in his first Stanza, of his 31. Canto, who before hee deli­uered her proper name, branded her with fiue villanous words, euery one of them being worse than other; and thus hee ranked them, as it were in battell aray: Suspicion is a certaine doubt­full timerousnes of the minde, detaining the hart most feare­fully, with sundry Affections and vncertaine proceedings, according to this saying: Suspect bewrayes our thoughts, betrayes our words, Wounds Hearts like sword, and nought but Griefe affords. Suspicion, Feare is two-fold, Good and Euill; Good Feare is that which is grounded vpon a good dis­course of Reason, and Argument, standing in awe of blame, reproach and dishonour, more than of Griefe or Death: Euill Feare is destitute of Reason, and is that which wee call Co­wardlinesse or Pusillanimitié, alwayes attended vpon with two perturbations of the Soule, Feare and Sadnesse: and of this sort is this whereof the Author speaketh, wherevpon one saith well to this purpose. Feare is defect of manly Fortitude, Continually, by Dread and Doubt pursude. Montagnie also saith, it is so strange a Passion, that as Philosophers affirme, there is none doth sooner transport our Iudgement out of his dew seate, then this doth: and to this purpose one saith thus: Feare is more paine, than is the paine it feares, Disarming humane mindes of Natures might, Where each conceit an vgly figure beares, Which were not Euill, well view'd in Reasons sight. Feare, [Page 11] Martyring is a kinde of in­ward painefull Conceit or Thought, that vexeth and galleth as well the body as the minde of man most fee­lingly, not vnlike a martyring kinde of sensible racke or tor­ture. Martyring, Frenzy is a distemperature of the braine, through some so daine affrighting or inward conceit, but Madnesse is a fu­rious passion, that taketh a­way the right Senses and Wits for euer, whereupon one wri­teth thus: This bedlam Madnesse for fore­runner sends Mannie & Frenzie, to suborne her Friends, Whereof the one drying, the other ouer-warming The feeble braine (the edge of Iudgement harming) Within the Soule fantasticqly they fayne A confus'd Hoste of strange Chymera's vaine. Frenzie, and Madnesse.

But because euery one of these foure Verses, are full of learning, and all the difficultie and hardnesse consisteth in this first part of the Son­net, wee therefore for your better vnderstanding (therein) will explaine one Verse after another, with as great case as wee may, and after the best manner wee can deuise.

Considering that in these first foure Verses hee defineth, or rather describeth what IEALOVSIE is; and there being two manner of Distinctions, the one, which declareth her name, the other, which sheweth her nature: pleaseth it you first to vnderstand that this Greeke word [...], com­pounded of two words, (from whence Three things (saith one) breedes IEALOVSIE; a mighty State, a rich Trea­sure, and a fayre Wife. This Fiend, a quondam kinde Acquaintance of mine, Mr. Thomas Watson, paynteth forth very liuely in these Verses: Pale IEALOVSIE, childe of insatiate Loue, Of Heart-sicke Thoughts which Melancholy bred, A Hell tormenting Feare, no Faith can moue, By Discontent with deadly poyson fed, With heedlesse youth, and Errour vainely led, A mortall Plague, a Vertue drowning Flood, A hellish Fire, not quenched but with Blood. Gelosia, that is, IEALOVSIE, commeth in our lan­guage) signifieth no other thing, than a certaine Emulation, or an Enuy, of Forme, or Beautie: which name it seemeth that the Latines want. Definitions of IEALOV­SIE. True it is that that famous Orator Marke Tully, translated it Obtrectatio, and defined it to be a Pas­sion, wherewith some one man is possessed, least another, should holde and enioy that vvhich hee, onely coueteth to possesse and keepe alone. Others affirme, that IEALOVSIE is a certaine suspition which the Louer hath, of the party he chiefely loueth, least she should be enamoured of [Page 12] another. A third sort there is, that saith, IEA­LOVSIE is a fearefull and timerous suspicion or Doubt in the Louer, least the Woman whom hee affecteth, and whom hee would not haue to be common with any other man, should lend her body vnto another. All which three are in effect one, and the selfe-same thing, but yet particularly, and not vniuersally, as the right and perfect de­finitions vse to be set downe, because they com­prehend that Party onely, which is iealous, by reason of his owne desire and proper longing or coueting; that is, that hee might (alone) enioy, what hee most wished for; as if there were no Iealousie to be had of our Daughters, Mothers, Sisters, or others, eyther shee kinred or Friends, which are left in our Custody, Wardship, and Protection, and whom wee desire to haue (not to enioy them our selues) but least some other, whom wee mislike or disdayne, should (against our wils, and to the disparagement of our Honor) get possession and interest in them. The Authors defining of IEALOVSIE. And therefore wee will say that IEALOVSIE is a certaine Feare or Doubt, least any one whom we would not, should enioy a Beautie that wee make ac­count of; and, this, for two Reasons, eyther be­cause wee our selues would enioy the same alone, or else, that such a one as we like and desire, might haue the sole fruition and possession thereof. Now there is no doubt but that Enuy is a vice that inflict­eth those most extreamely, that vse itmost, and it (imme­diately) succeedeth Pride, by nature; for a proud man so lo­ueth himselfe, that he grieues that any should excell him, which when he cannot auoid, then hee enuies them: and this is the difference betwixt Hatred and Enuy; Hate extendeth to Some, Enuy to All, whereupon one saith: Enuy is nothing else but griefe of minde, Conceiu'd that Others Happinesse doe finde: 'Tis Honours shame, and Glories secret Foe, Whose Fruits are Hate, Despight, sad Griefe and Woe. IEALOVSIE is a Spice or Species of Enuy, and although it fol­loweth not of necessitie, that wheresoeuer Enuy [Page 13] is, there IEALOVSIE should be, yet is it ne­cessary, that wheresoeuer IEALOVSIE is the Precursor, there Enuy must be the Follower al­wayes, as that which is a liuing Creature, is not a man, and yet euery man is a liuing Creature. Whereupon Plato defineth a Iealous man to be one, that hath an enuie or malice towards ano­ther, by reason of some amorous suspicion, which hee conceiueth against him. And for this cause (perhaps) our non-paraleld Poet Petrarcq in one of his sweet Sonnets, saith thus:

[Page 14]Although (as sometimes after the Poeticall manner) he maketh his LAVRA to be enamou­red of her owne selfe, like another Narcissus, and so hides herselfe from him, as in this Sonnet of his; beginning, ‘Il mio Auersario, in cui videre solete, &c.’

And in that delightfull and pretty Canzon, which beginneth,

And in that Disticq. of his:

So likewise this Poet (in another place) ma­keth her Iealous againe of her owne selfe: which selfe-same course, the learned Francis Maria Molza, borne in Modena in Lombardie, was one of the best Schollers of his time, as wel for Prose as Verse. He was a Retayner to that great Cardinall Alexander Far­nesi, of whom it is constantly reported, that by his great po­wer, wealth, and friends, hee could haue made whom hee pleased Pope, in any sede va­cante, but for himselfe, he was neuer able to doe the same, so much was hee doubted and feared, because of his huge meanes and great authoritie he had in Rome. Of this iolly Cardinall then, was this Mol­za (as I said) a Follower, who bestowed a bountifull pension on him during his life, as hee did on many others beside. He was buryed in Modena with this Epitaph: Qui lepido Veteres cantauit carmine MOLZA, Hic iacet aetatu maximu [...] huius honos. Molza taketh, in the end of a certaine witty Sonnet of his, where hee wishing and aduising his Mistresse, that shee should be content, and indure to be eyed and mar­ked of others, and not stand ouer-long prying and gazing in her Glasse, hee (calling her his glo­rious Sunne) concludeth after this sort;

But leauing (for this present time) to speake any thing at all of that kinde of IEALOVSIE, [Page 16] which Parents haue of their Daughters, Brethren of their Sisters, and of the like by bloud and Al­liance, neare and deare vnto them: and reasoning onely of that which is incident to Louers onely, IEALOVSIE of Louers, three-fold. I say that they may be iealous three manner of wayes; and that IEALOVSIE may be taken after three seuerall fashions: 1. Eyther when wee would not haue, that any one should obtayne, that which wee our selues haue already gotten: 2. Or that which wee wish and desire to obtayne: 3. Or which wee haue laboured and endeuoured, following it in chase, and yet could neuer gayne the same. Now this IEALOVSIE springing from our owne couetous minde and proper gree­dinesse to haue such a thing, is after a foure-fold manner, viz. By reason

• 1 Of Pleasure.
• 2 Of Passion.
• 3 Of Property or Right.
• 4 Of Honor.

IEALOASIE commeth of Pleasure is of two sorts; one is said to be of honest & good things, and the other of disho­nest. In respect of honest things it is called voluntas, but in respect of dishonest, it is called voluptas, therefore very wittily saith one to this pur­pose. Pleasures, like p [...]asting guests, make but small stay. Where Griefes bide long, and leaue a score to pay. Pleasure, when wee estimate and prise the There be two sorts of De­light, Sensuall and Intellectu­all. Sensuall, which taketh his sourse from Sense and Passion; and Intellectuall, which draw­eth his originall from the Vn­derstanding and the Will. delight wee take in the Partie we loue, at so high a rate, as we would engrosse it wholy vnto our selues, and when wee thinke, or imagine, it will decrease and waxe lesse, if it should be communicated, or lent vnto ano­ther: and in this poynt, in my conceit, Tibullus, the Poet, speaketh most diuinely (as most com­monly he doth in all his Writings) but especially in that excellent Elegy of his, where he beginneth thus:

And in those other no lesse sweet than daintie Disticques beginning after this manner:

This Latine Verse is so pleasing, as I could not choose but translate it into our Italian Tongue, applying it to our purpose, after this manner:

IEALOVSIE proceedeth from This Passion may be rightly tearmed some timerous con­ceit, or strange kinde of Feare, such Feare commonly bring­ing much griefe to the minde, as one saith to this purpose, thus: Passionate Feare still taketh her delight In perill, which exceedeth pe­rils might. Passion, when we couet to enioy or possesse that which we most loue and like, wonderfully fearing lest we should loose the possession thereof, as if our Mistresse should become a secret sweet Friend vnto another man: and in this pittifull When IEALOVSIE once siezeth on such weake and re­sistlesse soules (as Propertius was) it is pittifull to see, how cruelly it tormenteth, & how insultingly it tyrannizeth ouer them, for of all the mindes dis­eases, that is it, where to most things serue for sustenance, but fewest for remedy; such a furious perturbation, and moody Agitation it is, which throweth them into Extremi­ties, altogether contrary to the cause. perplexitie and case was Propertius, as may appeare, when hee made this mournfull and mestfull Elegie; beginning thus:

[Page 19]Thirdly, IEALOVSIE springeth from the Property or Right, is a kinde of Interest or Clayme, which one challengeth to any thing as his owne, and as peculiar & proper to himselfe, and where­in no other can (truely) de­mand any share or part. Yea, so peremptory are some men in this point (especially if they know they may lawfully chal­lenge this high pris'd commo­ditie of Loue as their owne, and that they haue payed for the same,) as they haue cast off their Wiues, and Mistresses, onely vpon a meere suspicion, or scandallous report of a ma­licious & backe-biting tongue, the poore women being in no fault at all, but their owne fan­tastique and iealous Conceits and Humours, for who can stop a slanderous speech when it is once spread abroad? since w [...]o knoweth not, that, Reports▪ at rand [...]me runne, whi [...]st Truth they misse. And Heard s [...]y [...]onne to' a L [...]ar counted is. And such a one was a certaine Gentleman, a friend of mine, who vpon a false surmise and giddy Toy that troubled his br [...]ine, forsooke a fayre Gentlewoman (his Mistresse,) not so much as once vouchsafing or enduring to heare how shee could excuse and answere for her selfe: hee being so peremptory in his opinion, that because shee was thought to be false vnto him, there­fore shee must be needes so indeede, as you may perceiue by these few Verses, being part of a bitter Letter hee sent her, which you shall finde at the ende of this Booke, and these be they: And where to witnesse thou dost call (For thy true faith) the Heauens all, I tell thee (Dame) the Wench that I Shall like for mine owne company, Shall not alone, right honest be, But from suspicion shall be free: That all may say, shee hath no Fault, No not so much as she can halt. So you may perceiue by this, hee would haue her more fortunate than any other; for what Woman or Man is there, almost liuing, but that hath beene eyther suspected, scandalized, or ill spoken of by one lewd tongue or another: And it is but too true, considering, What Malice likes not, straight disprais'd must be, For Slander's blinde and cannot Vertue see. Lyes, Slander, flattry, Birds are of one feather, Forsworne false Friends they are, and dwell together. Propertie or Right that wee haue, when we (en­ioying our Lady or Mistresse) would haue her soly and wholy vnto our selues; without being able (by any meanes) to suffer or endure, that an­other man should haue any part or interest in her, any way, or at any time: and to this purpose doth the foresaid Poet write, exceeding well, to Lin [...]us, his fellow Poer, (an old smell-smocke, and an auncient acquaintance and familiar friend of his) who (belike) being more forward in this amorous Businesse than the other could haue wisht; Propertius takes exceptions against him for the same, and withall, earnestly entreates him to giue ouer the Game hee had in chase, as in this E­legie following, you shall finde more at large:

And so puissant and potent is this our desire, which wee haue to enioy that Party (which wee loue) soly and alone, without the societie and company of any other whatsoeuer, as that (many times) when this our high-pris'd Commoditie chanceth to light into some other merchants hands, and that this our priuate Inclosure pro­ueth to be a Common for others, wee care no more for it, but giue it altogether ouer, quite ex­tinguishing and quenching in vs, not alone the Iealousie wee had of the same, but likewise the hot loue and affection wee bare it before, as Ouid in his second Booke of his amorous Elegies, speaketh in a manner to the same effect, when he saith thus:

And in another place thus:

In a third, thus:

Lastly, IEALOVSIE commeth in respect of a mans Honor, is the Reputation and Credit, or the good name and Fame, of a Man, which the generous Spirit priseth, at so high a rate, as before hee will haue the same eclipst, hee will loose all his wealth, yea, and his dearest life to, according vnto the saying of a certaine graue and wise Gentleman: Vntainted HONOR (not long life) the treasure is Which noble Mindes doe hold to be their chiefest blisse. Reputation and Honour, according as his nature is, or as his Breeding hath beene, or af­ter the fashion and manner of the Country, in which hee is borne and liueth, because (in this point) diuers are the opinions of men, and as contrary are the Customes of Countries, where­vpon they say, that the The Persians were wont to be so iealous of their Wiues, as they neuer suffered them to goe abroad, but in Waggons close shut; but at this day the Italian is counted the man that is most subiect to this vice, the sallow complectioned fellow, with a blacke beard, being hee that is most prone, as well to suspect, as to be suspected about Womens matters, according to the old saying: To a Red man reade thy Reade, With a Browne man breake thy Bread, At a Paleman draw thy Knife, From a Blacke man keepe thy Wife. Which wee expound after this manner: The Red is wise, the Browne trusty, The Pale enuious, and the Blacke lusty. Southerne Nations, and [Page 23] such as dwell in hot Regions are very Iealous; ey­ther because they are much giuen and enclined vnto Loue naturally: or else for that they hold it a great disparagement and scandall, to haue their Wifes, or their Mistresses taynted with the foule blot of Vnchastitie: which thing those that are of contrary Regions, and such as liue vnder the North-Pole, take not so deepe at the heart, and therefore wee may perceiue that this our Poet, hath done excellent well, to call and as it were de­fine IEALOVSIE, to be That IEALOVSIE, in a manner, is no other thing than a kinde of suspicious CARE, or a carefull kinde of SVSPI­TION: this Sonnet following (penn'd by an Italian Gentle­man) and seeming, (as it were) to be done in imitation of the Authors Mounsignior de la Casa, aforesaid) sheweth as much; which because it is annext vnto this Worke of Benedetto Varchies, I thought good to translate into English thus: CVRA, che sempre vigilant é desta, &c. CARE, who as vigilant, dost alwayes watch, Perswading mee to what is worse than ill, And seek'st my pensiue Heart still for to catch, To force him yeeld to thy accursed will, Making me leade a heauy wofull life, Whereas (before) Pleasures with me were rife. Bane to my sweetest Thoughts, thou gloomy storme, That all my Hopes and best Times ouerthrowes: Why with Suspicious new mak'st me forlorne? Why dost thou vexe my minde with wicked woes? Why dost thou gall me more and more each houre, To wreake thy vengeance on me through thy power? O Monster fierce, more Fierce then monsterous! O Pestilent plague of loyall Louers true! What hellish Fiend, what Hagge most furious From that deepe horrid Caue, thee (hither) drew? Why in so hydeous shape dost thou appeare? To torture mee, and spoyle my pleasures here? Packe hence, away, thy power th'hast too much showne, And therefore mestfull Iacke, with trembling Feare Shall write the Sorrowes which through thee are growne, And wofull plaints which in my Breast I beare. (Damn'd IEALOVSIE) Ile blaze thee, Herauld-like, That all the world may loath thee with despight. CARE, that is, a Thought or Passion which proceedeth and lea­deth [Page 22] on Feare, which is as much to say, as if it came of Dread and Suspect. And by this phrase of speech hee giueth vs to vnderstand from whence it springeth, because (as the Well may Aristotle be tear­med the Prince of Philoso­phers, since (as that famous Auerrois writeth) Nature ment (when Aristotle was borne) to shew the vtmost proofe of all her strength and power, so that what was possible for a mortal man to know, so much did hee vnderstand. Prince of Philosophers teacheth vs) wee are easily and best nourished with that with which wee are borne.

Neyther doth hee thinke it sufficient to haue said thus much, but he addeth besides, ( Cresci, thou growest or increasest) which word no doubt is set downe by him, with great and excellent iudge­ment, by reason that IEALOVSIE may (as other like Qualities) encrease or diminish, and it increaseth or diminisheth through foure things, IEALOVSIE encreaseth or decreaseth. or meanes, to wit, 1. According to the Persons: 2. According to the Places: 3. According to the Times: 4. And lastly, according to the Businesses taken in hand.

The persons, by meanes whereof IEALOVSIE encreaseth or decreaseth, are in a manner alwayes three.

• 1 The Party that is Iealous.
  Three Persons which encrease IEALOVSIE.
• 2 His Mistressee, ouer whom he is Iealous.
• 3 The Person whom hee suspecteth, and therefore is Iealous of him.

Concerning the Partie that is Iealous: such as know themselues to be Indeede I am of opinion, that the most worthlesse per­sons are alwayes most subiect to this infectious Disease of Iealousie, as Mr. George Wither rightly saith. There is None Iealous I durst pawne my life, But hee that hath defilde anothers Wife: And commonly, Mala Mens malus Animus, An ill Disposition breedes an ill Suspition. And for that hee himselfe hath gone astray, Hee straight-way thinkes his Wife will tread that way. The best counsell therefore I can giue to these kindes of suspitious Braines, is to possesse their soules with patience, considering it is the best Salue for this Sore, and to giue ouer this fran­tique Malady, following this good Counsell. Thy Wife being fayre, be not thou Iealous, Because Suspicion cures not womens Follies. destitute and depriued of [Page 24] euery good Qualitie and Vertue, and that finde themselues to be little (or nothing at all) fauoured or respected of their Mistresses and Ladies, swal­low downe more easily, and sooner, this poyson than others doe. A Testimoniall of which M ^r. Iohn Bocchas setteth downe most iudiciously (as is his wonted manner) in the ninth Tale of his seauenth Giornata or dayes Worke, in the person of See this Tale in Bocchas De­cameron, and in his seauen Gi­ornata, the Argument whereof is briefely thus: Annigucchio, a rich Marchant of Florence, being iealous of his fayre wife, perceiued how shee vsed to tye a small line or thread about one of her feet when she went to bed, whereupon hee one night finding his Riuall to pull the same, leapt out of his Bed with his Sword drawne to follow him, and shee seeing that her deuise was discride, got her maid to lye in her place in the bed, whom her Husband comming backe (for hee could not ouer-take the fore-said Fellow) beat most pittifully, and that done, set his Wiues kindred, to see her in that pittifull taking, but when they saw it was another, and not their kinsewoman, they beganne to swagger with him, and she to rayle at him, for calling her good name in question, whereupon he being out-fac't by his Wife, and the rest, that hee was drunke, was glad to aske her forgiuenesse, as if hee had done her great wrong and, after that, neuer durst finde fault with her more, but suf­fered her to haue her will, and take her pleasure where shee thought good, and lik't best. Anni­gucchio Berlinghieri, as euery one may perceiue that will take the paines to read the same. Besides, it importeth very much to know of what nature the Iealous man is, because if hee be naturally suspitious, hee then will take euery thing in the worse sense, interpreting all whatsoeuer he eyther heareth or seeth, in a sinister and bad sense or mea­ning, and so his Disease (in time) commeth to be desperate. And such a Of the Fellow that suspecting his Wife, and being exceeding Iealous of her, would needes shriue her in the habit of a Priest, reade Bocchas Tale, in the fore-said Decameron and Giornata 7. the substance whereof is this: A certaine Fellow suspecting his Wife of Incontinency, perswa­ded her to goe to Confession and Shrift, and shee smelling his drift, made show to be willing thereunto: whereupon hee getting the habit of a Priest, stayed for her in a certaine Church, whither he had appointed her to goe to her Ghostly Confessor, she making shew, (when she came thither) that shee knew him not, and telling him, how shee lay with a Priest euery night. Hee hearing this, when shee was gone, and that it was night, stayed about the doore of his house watching to take her Sir Domine napping, as hee should come to his Wife, whilst shee in the meane time, hauing giuen a secret Item of all these proceedings, to her amorous Friend, by a priuate dore in the Gutter, let him in, where they enioyed one anothers company all the night long, the Gull her Husband staying all that while, shaking for cold in the streete, and when morning beganne to appeare, she let her Friend forth by the same doore he came, Wise­akers her Husband, neuer so much as once doubting or dreaming of any such matter. Fellow was hee who (in Bocchas) would needes (in the habit of a Priest) confesse and shriue his Wife, and of this kinde of mould are most of our Iealous Creatures [Page 25] made, and therefore our Poet very wisely added in his second Verse:

For so is the true Copy, and not as I haue seene in some other false Bookes.

Although I deny not, but that this might passe for currant, well, and might be counted tollerable enough, as being perhaps borrowed from Virgill, where he saith:

Besides, who knoweth not, but that the more one feareth, the more hee is Iealous? Ariosto like­wise setteth downe the quicke swiftnesse, and the strange credulitie of Iealous folkes, when he saith, that this vncurable and mortall wound, is so ea­sily imprinted in the heart of a Louer. And cer­tainely it is wonderfull, and almost incredible to beleeue, that men should be such deadly enemies vnto themselues, and of their owne liues (as many times they are,) through these strange and foolish Humours are tumours of a swelling minde. Sprung from Selfe-will vncon­stant as the winde. humours, that for one word onely, or for a signe, a becke, or a glance cast vpon one, without as [Page 26] much as a thought of any ill; nay, more, that they will (despight of their owne selues) imagine and conceit that which doth so much afflict, gaule, and torment them incessantly, and without any rest, as if there were not (properly) in loue, other Cares and Troubles beside, then those one­ly, which wee our selues (without any profit or pleasure at all) seeke to purchase most vnseasona­bly euery houre of the day: To this purpose, one writeth that all the defects of out Wit, may be reduced into two, viz. Ignorance and Error. By Ig­norance wee know not things necessary: by Error we know them falsely: Ignorance is a Priuation; Error a positue acti­on: All Ignorances cannot be preuented; many Errors (but not All) may be escaped. From Ignorance floweth Vice, from Error Heresie, and therefore well may we say of the first. Grose Ignorance (to Truth the Opposite) Fa [...]shood and Doubt doe breed, and Foes to Right. And of the last, thus: Error the Daughter of blinde Ignorance. Hates Wisedomes lore, lead by vncertaine Chance. But of both of them one wri­teth thus: Image of Hellish Horror, Ig­norance, Borne in the Bosome of the blacke Abisse, And fed with Furies milke for sustenance, Of his weake Infancie begot amisse, By gnawing Sloath vpon his Mother Night: So hee, his Sonnes, both Sire and Brother hight. A grosse Errour and a Token of much insufficiency of wit.

But to come to the expounding of this our Sonnet, I say, that (Acquistar fede) in this place doth not signifie, to be beleeued, or to be a meanes for beliefe, as in the first Stanzo of Petrarcqs, where he saith:

And in that other matchlesse Sonnet of his, begin­ning thus:

But it signifieth (quite contrary) a firme and infallible Beliefe and Faith: in which sense Pe­trarcq vseth it in this Sonnet:

But to come (where I left) to entreate of IEALOVSIE, I say that this malignant Spirit, encreaseth and decreaseth, according vnto the Party for whose sake we are Iealous; and this we doe, not alone in respect shee is well bred, is pit­tifull of Nature, proper of Personage, constant, wittie, discreete, modest, of few What others would request or desire in their Wiues or Mi­stresses, I know not; but my nature so much abhorreth a Woman of much tongue, as I had rather haue her infected with any of the seauen deadly Sinnes, then to be counted a notorious Scold: and therefore, A Womans Tongue that is as swift as Thought, Is euer bad, and she her selfe starke Nought: But shee that seldome speakes and mildly then, Is a rare Pearle amongst all other Women. Maides must be seene, not heard, or selde or neuer, O may I such one wed, if I, wed euer. A Maide that hath a lewd Tongue in her head, Worse than if she were found with a Man in bed. Be she best of her Sexe, (Good All,) I hold, She is worse then worst, if once she proue a Scold. Flye then such Furies as (still) scold and raile, Queanes of their Tongue, are (most) Queanes of their Taile. words, tender [Page 28] of her owne Reputation and Honour, and other such like good parts in her: but (withall) likewise consider and haue How iealous the Italians are of their owne neerest and dearest Acquaintance & kind­red, for feare of their Wiues, and how they vse to watch them narrowly, read my A­riostoes Satyres in English, and therefore not without cause is that Prouerbe rise amongst them: Chi non tocca parentado, Tocca mai, o, rado. The nigher kinne, the farther in. an eye euen vnto her owne Mother, her Nurse, her Sisters, and Kindred, her Familiars, Acquaintance, and such Neighbours as she conuerseth withall, which poynt is most ex­cellently well set downe, by Boccas in many places, whereupon Petrarcq (his Mistresse Laura be­ing a Saint, graue, wise, courteous, honest and fayre) saith hee is not iealous of her, in the end of that no lesse pleasant than hard and darke Son­net of his, beginning after this manner, where he speaketh of IEALOVSIE thus:

Besides, the Minde and Condition of the Lo­uer towards the Woman whom hee affecteth, im­porteth very much in this businesse; for if he be giuen to choler, or is (by any other Accident) discontent and displeased, hee will then quickly take occasion to be angry with her, and euery mote (as the Prouerbe goeth) is a Beame in his eye: which qualitie you shall finde in many of Bocchas Nouels, and in See the strange passion and life of this Lady more at large in the 32. Canto of Orlando Furioso. This Bradamanta a warlike Mayde, daughter to Duke Aymon, and Beatrice his Wife, was sister to Rinaldo, one of the douze Peeres of France, for her valiant provvesse King Charlemaine made her Gouer­nesse of Marselles in Prouance. She was wife to that braue Ru­giero, & dyed for griefe of the Paladines ouerthrow, who were most of them treache­rously slaine at R [...]uceueax, a Ci­tie bordering on Spaine, through the treason of that Arch-traitor Gano. Bradamantas Humors: and so againe, if hee be temperate, and stayed in Condition, being well conceited, and hauing a good opinion of the party he liketh; then is the case quite altered, and he is iocond and blithsome, and not The more discretion a man hath, the lesse shall hee bee troubled with these franticke fits: and seeing, as a certaine noble Gentleman fayth, the Honour of a true heroique spirit dependeth not vpon the carriage or behauiour of a woman, I see no reason why the better sort should take this false playing of their Wiues so much at the heart as they doe; especially, when it is their Destinie, and not Desert, to be so vsed. Mon­taigne, that braue French Barron, being of this minde; for saith he, the Gallantest men in the world, as Lucullus, Caesar, Anthony, Cato, and such like Worthies, were all Cuckolds; yea, and (which was more) knew it, although they made no stirre about it: neither was there in all that time, but one Gull, and Coxcombe, and that was Lepidus, that dyed with the anguish thereof. Read the third Chapter of the third Booke of the foresayd Montaignies Essayes, and he will satisfie you at large in this poynt. troubled at all: and therefore is it very [Page 30] requisite and needfull that men should not be o­uer-heady, nor rash, in their Humors, and pro­ceedings, but rather discreet, wary, and coole, canuasing and measuring euery action and beha­uiour of their Mistresses, with sound discretion and iudgement, and not to be ouer-forward and too much credulous, or too too light of beliefe, without any For this makes Women worse than they would be, and to doe that which they neuer meant. For Women thas are chaste, when they are trusted; Proue wantons when they (causelesse) are suspected. iust cause giuen them, which is the onely reason (as we daily see) of many grosse ab­surdities, springing and issuing from such like light and idle occasions as these.

Lastly, IEALOVSIE encreaseth or abateth, ac­cording as the qualities are in the partie, whom the Iealous man suspecteth to be familiar with his Mistresse, and therefore is iealous of him. For if hee be poore, or ill fauoured, basely borne, illi­tered, of bad or no breeding, and hath few or no friends of worth, to be a countenance or credit vnto him, hee then doubteth him the lesse, and hath no great feare of him; as (contrariwise) if he be rich, a proper man, well descended, learned, commendable for his qualities, and withall, po­tent, and mighty in Friends and Alliance, he then taketh on the more, vexing and tormenting him­selfe without measure, and neuer giuing ouer to watch and prye into all his deuises and doings. And this is the propertie of such kind of natured men: and although Petrarcq (as we said but euen now, and as he himselfe reporteth) was (ordina­rily) neuer Iealous, yet hee sheweth how by an Indeed Montaigne confesseth, that the best disciplined haue beene (heerewith) somewhat tainted, and some reason may be for the same; but yet neuer quite carried away with it, forit is our owne fault, that wee haue raised to the highest straine, the excesse of this moodie Feuer, after the ex­ample of some barberous Na­tions. extraordinary chance, hee fell into this fit a little now and than, as you shall perceiue in this his Sonnet, beginning thus.

In this place hee calleth the Sunne by his pro­per name, which the Latines call (in such a case as this) a Riuals in Loue will be suspi­tious quickly, And through Conceit (not rea­son) straight grow sickly. Riuall: but I must needs confesse not so properly, nor so happily (by great oddes) as the Grecians doe, which (considering you know bet­ter then I can any way set downe) I will giue ouer to speake any more thereof.

Now as concerning the second part of our for­mer Discourse, which is in respect of the place; there is lesse or more IEALOVSIE, concerning the qualitie of the same, which may be eyther Of fit places for Amorous purposes, you may read Ouid de Arte Amandi, his first Book, and that notable plot; Mundus (a Romane Knight laid with the consent of the Priests belonging to the Temple of the Goddesse Isys, to obtaine his will of a fayre Lady his Mistresse,) in S. Augustines booke, called De Ciuitate Dei. Sacred or Prophane; farre off, or hard by; open, or shut, commodious, or vnfit, or such like; or af­ter such a manner. And how much euery one of [Page 32] these (different one from another) may import and auaile a man about his amorous affaires, any of meane capacitie may comprehend, and the Danae was daughter to Acri­sius, King of the Argiues, vnto whom (being closed in a strong Tower) Iupiter came in the forme of a showre of golden Raine, in at the house top, and begot on her Perseus, that vali­ant Knight that rescued An­dromada from a Monster. This Perseus gaue the name first to the Countrie and people of Persia. But the truth is, Iupi­ter being a gallant young Prince, sent priuately rich trea­sure vnto Danae, and likewise to them that had the keeping of her, wherewith they (be­ing corrupted) suffered Iupiter to enter into the Tower, & so he obtained his purpose. The Morall of this Tale declareth the force of Money and Gifts, in assulting of Chastitie. Tower wherein Danae was shut, and close Pri­sons, and Iayles, can giue instance sufficient, be­sides that common Prouerbe of ours.

So likewise as concerning the third, which is A fit and opporune season is not a little auaialble in this businesse, considering that Time is the plotter of Exp [...]ri­ence, and Obseruation the Instrument of Knowledge: which two, taken right, effect great matters; and to this purpose a certaine Philosopher being demaunded, what was the first thing, needfull to winne the loue of a woman, answered, Opportunitie; being asked what the second, replied, Opportunitie; and being demaunded what was the third, answe­red still, Opportunitie; and therefore he spake not amisse that said, Occasion, Time, and Opportunitie, Compasse what we desire effectually. But me thinkes this second spake better, who wrote thus: Fayre Opportunitie can winne the coyest she that is, So wisely he takes time, as hee'l be sure he will not misse; Then he that rules her gainesome vaine, and tempers Toyes with Art, Bringes Loue that swimmeth in her eyes, to diue into her Hart. Time, there is none but may imagine, that as it is available in other matters, so no doubt is it of great consequence in this businesse, conside­ring that such occasions, as wee may take in the This iouiall season amongst the Italians beginneth about the 13. of Ianuary, and continu­eth till Ashwednesday, it being the chiefe time of sports and meriments amongst them, they assuming (as then) more libertie and licentiousnesse, for their deuises and pleasures, than in all the yeere after; which they spend most commonly in Reuelling, Masking, and Feasting, presenting of Comedies, and pleasing showes, and in courting of their Mistresses, with such delightfull exercises. Carnouall time, or at Shrouetide, to serue our purpose, The Italians haue more libertie, & accesse for pleasure on the Holy­dayes, and in many of their solemne feastiuall dayes, than in the Lent, and on Fasting dayes; for those seasons they obserue very precisely, hauing as then no Feasting, Reuellings, nor Mer­ry-meetings, but onely Fasting and Prayer. we cannot vse them in the Lent, nor [Page 33] may wee put them in practise on Fasting dayes; and so likewise, is the difference great, which men worke to purchase and compasse what they seeke to effect on the Holy-dayes, it being a quite con­trary course to that they take on the working-dayes, about any such matter.

Lastly, as concerning the fourth and last point, which is the imployments and Businesses: who knoweth not but that he that is laborious, and beateth his braines about one thing or another; is lesse Iealous than he that is A man being idle, hath his minde apt to all vncleannesse, and when the minde is void of Honestie: Idlenesse being the onely Nurse and Nouri­sher of sensuall appetites, and the sole maintainer of vnlaw­full affections, whereupon one saith: Sloath is to Vertue chiefest Enemie. And Idlenesse the Guide to misery. idle, and doth no­thing all the day long: and as Ouid saith of Ae­gistus.

So may we say, that he that will take no paines but giues himselfe to be idle, will soone come to be Iealous.

Besides, there is no feare of such a one as giueth his minde to matters of great importance & diffi­cultie, or of him that esteemeth more of commo­ditie and profit, then of any vaine pleasure what­soeuer: and so by the contrary, contrary causes arise, considering that of contrary occasions con­trary Effects spring and grow: so that according as they shall be greater or smaller, the things (spo­ken of before) shall be greater or smaller, not ac­cording to the rule of Truth, but as IEALOV­ [...]IE it selfe shall conceit thereof. And although wee (for the most part) speake in the Masculine [Page 34] Gender, yet must you vnderstand we Bartello the Italian, saith, that a pale coloured woman, with a blacke dead eye, and a reddish hayre, of a middle sta­ture, and shrill in voyce, is most subiect to IEALOVSIE and such a one is Progne de­scribed to be, and this differ­eth not much from our olde Said-saw here in England, about the complexions and conditions of Women. Fayre and foolish, Little and loud, Long and lusty, Blacke and proud, Fat and merry, Leane and sad, Pale and pettish, Red and bad. And Burchiello, that fantasticque Writer saith thus: High Colour (in a Woman) Choler showes, And shee's vnwholsome that like Sorrell growes, Nought are the Peeuish, Proud, Malitious, But worst of all the Red, shrill, Iealious. Besides, the Iealous woman and the curst Shrow, differ not much, they being very nigh kinne one to another: considering the Shrow is reported to be of a middle Stature, and somewhat pale or sallow in colour, with a thinne lip, a sharpe nose, a Hawkes eye, and a shrill voyce, that sounds like a Bell; and such a one is Zantippe, Socrates wife, noted to be. But as Plato saith, to a shroud horse belongeth a sharpe bridle, so ought a curst wife to be curbed euery way, but he that hath a peaceable Woman, and of few words, being here on earth, hath attayned Heauen, being in want hath obtayned wealth, and being in care, hath purchast comfort. And as con­cerning this poynt, this is my Catholicke beliefe: A slow soft Tongue betokens Modestie, But, quicke and loud signe's of Inconstancy: Words, more then swords the inward Heart doe wound, And glib'd tongue'd Women seldome chaste are found. Much tongue in Wiues is bad, in Maides farre worse, A long tongu'd Maide is right the Diuels dry Nurse: He roares aloud, shee scoldeth shrill like bell; Both worse than Fiends, both fit to liue in Hell. Yea, so distastfull a plague was a bad tongue to Ariosto, as he preferreth a wittie woman that secretly playeth false with her Husband, before a common and notorious Scold, as in his fifth Satyre treating of Marriage you may see more at large. meane as well Women as Men, who being giuen no lesse to loue then men, and hauing (generally) lesse wisdome and discretion then the other, they must therefore What Montagnies opinion is in this poynt, and what hee setteth downe of the Female Sexe, as concerning this matter, I had rather referre the Readers to his third Booke of Essayes, then to say any thing hereof my selfe, considering Veritas Odium parit, Verdiuyce and Oate-meale good for a Parrot. needes fall into this dangerous disease, suffering themselues to be possessed now and than with this damnable Fury.

[Page 35]But here (perhaps) some of you expect from mee, to know whether Man is the most noblest crea­ture God made, whose duety consisteth in knowing his owne Nature, and in labou­ring to profit others, of whom (after Tassos Imitation) this Disticque is written. Man is a Creature of such ex­cellence. As (All) created was for his defence. Man or Woman is of one and the self-same substance with Man, is what Man is, onely so much more imperfect, as she is crea­ted the weaker vessell, and Hermes auoucheth that a beau­tifull and chaste woman is the perfect workmanship of God, the true Glory of Angels, the rare Myracle of Earth, and the sole wonder of the World, a moderne Writer concluding thus: Women to Men are equall euery way, And like infirmities (in both) doe stay. WEE MEN are Women, Wo­men are WEE MEN; What difference is twixt vs and Women then? Woman, be more extreame and outragious, in this more than monstrous Malady.

Noble (no doubt) and magnanimious is Man­kinde, and so most delicate and generous is that pleasing Sexe of Women, I will not (herein) com­mend Man much, neyther will I so much as dis­commend the Woman a little for the same, since borne wee were for their Women are daintie Vessels fine, yet tender weake and soft; They must somtimes be born with­all, since they do beare so oft Then let vs not these creatures sweet disgrace, scorn or disdain, When (truth to say) we came from thē. & they from vs first came. defence, and brought into the world to doe them dutifull seruice. Com­parisons are odious, and to infer, or affirme vpon Conclusions, bringeth on (oftentimes) farther danger: onely gladly, would I please both Kindes, and not willingly displease eyther: vouchsafe then (most Princely and Honourable Assembly) the opinion herein, of a famous Poet (for I neither dare nor will presume to deliuer mine owne) and one, that in my poore conceit, had good iudge­ment in IEALOVSIE, and that is OVID, a taste and touch whereof you may take, and then be Iudges your selues, prouided alwayes that you be not ouer partiall on your owne side.

The Verses are these:

But now let vs come vnto the third verse of our Sonnet.

In this Verse our Poet sheweth the operation and working of IEALOVSIE, viz. that it min­gleth chilly Cold (which is no other thing than Feare and Suspition) together with burning Flames of Fire, that is, with Loue, which is no thing else but a kinde of Fire. And Poetry is farre more com­mended then Prose, being far more honor to the Language it writes in, than the other, both because Poets were be­fore Orators, and for that to write in Verse is more plea­sing, more cunning, and more delightfull euery way. Besides, Poets (onely) haue the ho­nour to be crowned with Myrtle and Laurell, and no Schollers else: for they haue other Re­wards; but these, Garlands and Crownes which last for euer. herevpon­our Poets vse these words (Fiamma & Fuoco) [Page 37] not alone for Loue, but likewise, for the Women themselues whom they affect and like, as Petrarq did, when hee wrote this Canzon:

And the reuerend Cardinall Peter Bembo, sonne to Ber­nardo Bembo, and to Helena Marcella, (a Romane borne) was excellent as well in Prose as in Verse, and for the com­mendable parts in him, Pope Leo the tenth, made him his Se­cretary; and not long after, Paul the third created him Cardinall. He dyed at Venice, and lyeth buryed in S. Antho­nies Church in Padoa, where his Statue (of white Marble) is to be seene at this day. Bembo, in those his diuine Terzanes of LOVE, saith thus:

Where you must vnderstand, that there is al­wayes some pretty Epithite, added vnto the same, as Petrarcq did before:

And in another place:

[Page 38]And this kinde of phrase is much in request with the Latines, and not without great reason; wherevpon Virgill in his Bucolickes, saith thus:

And that Cold or Ice, is set downe, for Feare, (that is, the Effect, for the Occasion, or Cause) is a most vsuall Figure, not onely with those who are Versifiers, but such likewise as write in prose, fol­low the same course. Now, the reason of this is, for that whosoeuer doth feare, waxeth pale and colde as a stone, because Dread and Feare draw vp, and weaken the heart, wherevpon Nature (to succour and comfort the same) the Aristotle in his Booke De na­tura Anim. saith, the heart of man, is lodged on the left side of his body, but in all other creatures else, it is naturally in the middest of their brest. And it is a common receiued opini­on among all Naturall Philo­sophers, that the very first part which is formed of man, is the heart of man, (as the maine roote of all his other members, and the spring and fountaine of naturall heate) and it is al­so the onely member that last looseth his moouing, and dy­eth in man; It being a member so noble and delicate, that it cannot endure any touching, but presently the party dyeth. Heart being the most noble part of man, and being that which (according to the Peripatetical Philosophers, is the first of all the Body that hath life, and the last that dyeth) disperseth and sendeth the bloud a­broad, that is aboue it, and finding that not suffi­cient, conueyeth that bloud also, for his ayde and helpe which is below; and hereof commeth the palenesse in a mans face, and the fearefull cold, hee hath therewithall. Besides, a man trembleth and shaketh for Feare, by reason that (the Heart trembling) all the whole Body shaketh after his first stirring. And this kinde of speech did Pe­trarcq vse of IEALOVSIE in the Sonnet alled­ged a little before:

Where Icy Feare, without doubt, signifieth no­thing else but IEALOVSIE: and therefore ad­deth:

[Page 39]He taking (as I said ere while) la fiamma, [...]'l Gelo, the Fire for Loue, and the cold for Iealousie: as in this place the meaning of our Poet is the like: so againe Petrarcque vseth this Verse (Mescere) in the selfe-same signification Mounsign ^or De la Casa, doth; who speaketh in the Triumph of Di­uinitie thus:

Although it may be taken as a Metaphor for Wine, as they (commonly) vse this kinde of phrase, euery where in Florence; in which sense that sharpe conceited Wit of this our dayes, and my very inward Friend M ^r. Lodouicque Martelli tooke this phrase, A Florentine borne, and a familiar friend of this our Au­thors, was excellent in Poe­try, especially for composing of Elogies, and therefore was tearmed by many a second Tibu [...]lus. He wrote (amongst other things) a Tragedie cal­led Tullia, and replyed against Giouan Giorgio Trissino (a lear­ned Venetian,) about his Epi­stles, betweene which twaine, was some controuersie. He dy­ed very young, and as some say, was made away by poyson in Regno, a country belonging to the Kingdome of Naples, about the yeere 1566. leauing many workes of his vnfinisht, in that hee was preuented by so vntimely a death. set downe in one of his dainty Madrigals, where he beginneth after this manner:

And then a little after, (to come to this our word Mescere) hee saith:

[Page 40]But now let vs come to the fourth Verse of our Sonnet:

In these few words of this Verse onely, all the griefes and discontentments which can be ima­gined in loue, are here (generally) contayned, which by how much it is pleasing and sweet of it selfe, by so much the more it is distastfull and vnpleasant, being mixed with IEALOVSIE, no otherwise than if a most bitter poyson should be mingled with some excellent and pure Sugar or Honey.

But it is now high time, to come vnto the rest of the other Stanzaes, which we will quicklie dispatch as soone as we shall deliuer and show, that not without great skill and Iudgement, these foure first verses were wouen, and knit together, for as much as euery one of them concludeth with a fit sentence (as it were) and so likewise end: which, besides a certaine kinde of Grauitie, with a maiesticq manner of disdaine, (that is included within them) force there Auditors, the more at­tentiuely to heare them: this sort of workmanship being as cunningly contriued by our fore-said graue Bembo, in a Sonnet of his where hee spea­keth of Hope is a pleasant passion of the minde, which doth not onely promise vs those things that wee doe desire, but such things also as we haue vtterly despayre of, and therefore one speaketh wittily to this pur­pose, saying; Hope is the Fooles God, the Merchants Com­fort, the Souldiers Compani­on, and the Ambitious Mans poyson: but yet notwithstan­ding this last Definition, Hope is the sad Hearts helpe, the sicke Thoughts Friend. And what Distrust impaires, Hope doth amend. True Hope is swift, and flyes with Swallowes wings, Kings it makes Gods, and meanest Creatures Kings. Hope thus:

And so forth, as in the Sonnet.

But now wee will come to the second Stanza of our Sonnet.

As concerning the chiefe point of this second part (in the which our Poet hauing before discour­sed of IEALOVSIE, and of her Effects at the full) hee now commeth to the particulars, and commanding or rather entreating her to leaue and part from forth his Body and his Heart, hauing done the worst she could, after her wonted manner, and made him of a most fortunate man, the most wretchedst creature aliue; and therefore there remayning nothing for her (as now to doe more) he telleth her, that she may do well to For there is her chiefe man­sion house, according to the opinion of a Gentleman, an acquaintance of mine, who to this effect, writeth thus: A seeming Friend, but Enemie to Rest, A wrangling Passion, yet a gladsome thought; A bad Companion, yet a wel­come Ghest, A Knowledge wisht, yet sound too soone vnsought; From Heauen suppos'd, but (sure) sprung first from Hell, Is IEALOVSIE, and there (forlorne) doth dwell. From thence she sends fond Feare, and false Suspect, To haunt our Thoughts, bewitched with mistrust, Which breedes in vs the Issue and Effect Both of Conceit, and Fictions most vniust: The griefe, the shame, the smart thereof doth proue That IEALOVSIE is Death, and Hell to Loue. For what but Hell, moues in the iealous Heart, Where restlesse feare workes out all sugred ioyes, Which doth both quench, and kill that louing part, And cloyes the minde with worse then knowne annoyes Whose pleasure farre exceeds Hels deepe Extreames, Such life leades Loue, entangled with Misdeames. re­turne backe to Hell, from whence she (first) came, as this word (Torna) signifieth. But this Stanza because it is easie enough of it selfe, and because we haue discoursed sufficiently at large thereof be­fore, we will spend no longer time therein, (only) we will (briefely note) certaine speciall things, as concerning some words he vseth here. And first, we will say, that the first halfe line (Since thou so soone) was set downe with great Iudgement, and for the nonce, not so much to answere that Verse aboue written.

As to shew the force and sudden power of this de­testable poyson, which worketh most violently and suddenly. (Hai misti.) That is, hast mixt, or mingled, as Petrarcq saith in this his Sonnet.

Giacci, and not Campi, you must read (as I haue seene in some Copies) and this is a certaine Poeticall description of HELL, and very rightly, and fitly doth he will her to returne to Hell, from whence she came; since (certainely) it is a right Furie indeed, Ariosto hauing Christned it by the name of an infernall plague. And therefore you must note, that as euery thing which is good and fayre, is said to proceed and come from Paradise; so contrariwise, All, whatsoeuer is foule, and bad, we terme to come from Hell? as Virgill saith that desperate Gaming, and ghastly Famine issue from thence: Petrarcq speaking as much of Lau­ra's Looking-glasse, after this manner:

[Page 43] And in another place, taxing the Court of Rome, he calleth it the HELL of the Liuing; as in a third passage hee termeth the World after this manner; when he wrote thus:

But now to the rest.

Meaning, she should there tortor her selfe, and not be grieuous and troublesome vnto others, and in this sort doth he paint and set forth the Nature and Conditions of IEALOVSIE, which Lo­douicq Martelli hath no lesse elegantly, than elo­quently set downe in one of his Canzons, entrea­ting of Loue, and which, because I perceiue you stand attentiue to heare, I will most willingly ac­quaint you withall.

But although this Verbe ( Iucressere) signifieth to haue compassion and pitty (for the most part) [Page 44] as that deepe and This learned Poet was borne in Florence, his Wife be­ing of the house of the DO­NATI, there, and called BI­ANCA, but he being banished from thence, liued in the anci­ent Citie Rauenna, in Romagna, where he lieth enterred, ha­uing a fayre Tombe ouer him, which Bernardo Bembo, (Father to Cardinall Bembo) reedified and made new, when hee re­mained Podesta (there) for the Signorie of Venice, with this Epitaph ouer him. Exigua Tumulo (DANTES) hic sorte iacebas, Squallenti nulli, cognite (paene) situ; At nunc Marmor [...]o, subnixus conderis arcu Omnibus, & cultu splendidiore nites, Nimirum BEMBVS, Musis incensus Hetruscis, Hoc tibi, quem imprimus hae colu­ere dedit. But the aforesaid Citie of Ra­uenna is now subiect to the Romane Church. This Dant is by some learned Italians compared and equalled with Homer and Virgill, and was not alone a Poet, but a Philo­sopher, a Deuine, a Phisitian, and an Astronomer with all: yet doth Cardinall Bembo pre­ferre Petrarcq before him. When Dant was young, hee was Scholler to Brunetto La­tini, Vincentio Borghim, Prior of the Hospitall of the Innocenti in Florence, hauing made an ex­cellent Comment vpon all his workes. profound Poet Dant sheweth, in one of his learned and morall Canzons, be­ginning (as it were) somewhat abruptly, thus:

And Petrarcq (after the same manner) writeth thus:

Yet neuerthelesse, the same Poet in the first Stanza of his Canzon, of his transformations, taketh it in this our sense, when he saith:

And this is worth the noting (as I said a little be­fore) that one Tuscan word alone, should signifie two things; and those so much different one from another: the Latines likewise, hauing the like sig­nification in these two Verbes: Miseret, and Taedet: It pittieth me, and it irketh me.

In this part hee goeth on, describing and setting downe the Nature and Life of such as be Iealous, vnder the description of IEALOVSIE herselfe, who (alwayes) liuing as it were, in a continuall Hell, take no rest in the day; neither can they [Page 45] sleepe at all in the nights, but (euer) grieue and lament, taking on as well for that which is false, as for what they stand in doubt of to be true; imagining many times, and conceiting diuers things that are altogether impossible; for this strange Maladie engendreth a continuall and a perpetuall According to this saying ap­plyed vnto a suspitious or Iea­lous person. Suspect like traytor false, bewrayes our words, Suspicious eyes are messengers of woe. Iealous Suspect vgly Despayre affords, And of thy dearest friend makes deadliest Foe. discontentment and disquietnesse in the minde, so that hee is not able, nor hath-any power to giue ouer from vexing himselfe, stan­ding (alwayes) watchfull with his cares wide open, to hearken and listen to euery word, euery voyce, euery sound, and euery winde: all which, hee taketh in a wrong and sinister sence, conie­cturing (euermore) worse of the same than hee neede. And therefore Propertius excuseth him­selfe, about this fault, in one of his Elegies, thus:

And this, Petrarcq reprehending as a vaine and impossible thing, saith:

Yea, this franticque Humour, runneth on (of­tentimes) so farre, as it taketh away a mans senses, as if hee were not the same partie hee was before: whereupon, all those things not onely proceede which Horace setteth downe in that pleasant Ode of his: beginning,

But, which is more, we are afraid of our owne shadow: which Propertius confesseth thus:

And the learned Molza, imitating this Poet, beginneth one of his Sonnets, after such a man­ner, writing thus:

And because (as I said before) IEALOVSIE is a kinde of Enuy, grieuing as much at anothers Good, as shee doth at her owne hinderance and hurt. Iealous folke are content to endure any dis­commodity whatsoeuer, vpon condition that no other shall enioy the benefit thereof.

And hereupon our amorous Poet Tibullus, speaketh thus in an Elegie of his:

What shall I say more: such as be iealous, feare not men onely, but likewise suspect and doubt the Gods themselues; and therefore saith Ouid in his Epistles for Sappho:

Many more examples could I alledge for this purpose, most of the Poets, especially the Greci­ans and the Latines, not talking of any thing so much, nor that toucheth and galleth the Heart so sharply, as this doth: which forced Propertius to write thus:

But our Tuscane The worth of Poets and Poetrie, can neuer be suffici­ently commended enough, al­though this Iron age hath no­thing more in contempt, which is not the fault of Schol­lers, but of those dull Mi­dasses, now liuing, who make so small account of them, and therefore passing well said hee that wrote this Disticque: The Man that scorneth Poets, and Arts Schoole, Lackes but a long Coate to be Natures Foole. Yet in despight of these worse than nasty Iaylors, that keepe such store of wealth in their bard Closets, and secret places far darker than Lymbo it selfe, from those that deserue it bet­ter euery way than themselues, (and all which dunghill muck is nothing but the base Excre­ments of this stinking Earth) I will set downe here the worth of a Poet (more in value by much than their Idolatrous trash) as that sweet Muse of his (who not vnworthily beareth the name of the cheifest Archangell) singeth after this Soule-rauishing manner: When Heauen would striue to doe the best shee can, And put an Angels spirit into a Man. Then all her powers shee in that Worke doth spend, When shee a POET to the world doth send; The difference onely twixt the Gods and Vs, Allow'd by them, is but distinguisht thus; They giue them breath, Men by their Powers are borne, That life they giue the POET doth adorne: And from the world, when they dissolue mans breath, They in the world doe giue Man life in death. Poets, louing more chastly than the Heathen, wrote more discretely, and with a better minde of this subiect, neyther had they so much cause to complayne, or enueigh against this wicked Fury.

And now as concerning the two first lines of this last Stanza, in my conceit this word (iui) (there) is not without good grace and much ele­gancy vttered three times, one after another, not so much to knit and ioyne the Verses following, to those that goe before, as for that Flourish or Figure, called Repetitio, by our Rhetoritians, and because of that other which is tearm'd an Article, the conioyning and coupling of the Coniunction (Et, And) being not put to any of them.

This phrase Menare i giorni, is, in this place, after the same fashion as Petrarcq vseth the same in that Sonnet of his:

Imitating herein the Latinists, who say, ducere vitam, to liue. And yet Petrarcq in this Sonnet following, turned it to another sense.

And this kinde of phrase is (most commonly) taken after the worse sense, as in the first Chapter of Loue, he speaketh thus:

But now to our Poet againe.

In my conceit he could neuer more learnedly, [Page 50] nor more, and as I may say, more elegantly expresse and set downe the last difference of IEA­LOVSIE, than hee hath (here) done in this Verse, considering there may (perhaps) be found such a kinde of gnawing Corsiue or inward fret­ting Passion, that may haue part, or the most of these troubles that IEALOVSIE hath, but that there (euer) should be found any one that shall continually, lament and grieue, as much for that which is impossible and doubtfull, as for what is certaine and well knowne, that can I neuer be in­duced to belieue: this one thing being rightly the propertie and nature of this franticque Mala­die. And therefore Ariosto said likewise well, when (speaking of IEALOVSIE) he wrote thus:

Petrarcque intimating as much, when (as be­fore is alledged) hee said:

Inferring hereby no other thing, then (as hath beene often repeated before) that Iealous persons are afraid of what they neede not, they being al­wayes full of Suspition and dread, no otherwise than as if it were a likely or possible thing that a woman should hide a liuing man vnder her vaile or her attyre. And in this Sonnet (aforesaid) Pe­trarch setteth downe IEALOVSIE by foure diuers names: viz. trembling Cold, shiuering Feare, chilly Ice, and melancholy Suspect Well may Petrarcq brand Loue with foure such seuerall tearmes, when, that learned Philosopher Marcus Aurelius calleth it a cruell impression of that wonderfull passion, which to be defined is impossible, because no words reach to the strong nature of it, and onely they know it, who inwardly doe feele it. And therefore I will be bold to descant vpon it thus, What is not LOVE? tis All, Vertue and Vice, Humble, proud, witty, foolish, kinde and nice; A golden bubble, blowne big with idle Dreames, That waking breakes, and fils vs with Extreames. Or rather thus; LOVE backeward speld (put I for O) is EVIL Adde D before the same, and tis the DEVIL. A DEVIL 'tis, and mischiefe such doth worke, As neuer yet did Pagan, Iew, nor Turke. as he calleth Loue by foure other seuerall words, Zeale, Hope, Fire and Desire: the Reasons whereof we will (at some other time) disclose, and so conclude with our Authors Epilogue:

This fourth and last part agreeth meruaylous well with the beginning and middest of this Son­net, according to Horace his Aduice, where hee saith, in his Booke De Arte Poetica.

Thus with a kinde of briefe Repetition he con­cludeth and shutteth vp the whole substance of his Sonnet, willing IEALOVSIE once more to be packing, and as it were, seeming to be an­gry and to chide her, alledging (to perswade her the sooner to be gone,) the Reasons before alledged: for as much signifieth these two Verses:

As the other twaine aboue mentioned:

And partly it declareth the nature of this in­satiable Monster, who thinketh it not enough, to haue infected and spoyled a man with her poyson on the sodayne: but shee must also turne backe againe, with diuers and strange Apparisi­ons and Shadowes, that is, with new Fashions and Shapes, after a more cruell and fearefull manner, euery day more than other, and so encreaseth con­tinually, [Page 52] to the greater discontentment of his minde. But this Part being sufficient playne of it selfe, I will speake the lesse herein, onely, as you know well enough, this word ( Besides these Laruae (in La­tine the condemned Soules of the wicked) the Heathens held there were these kindes of Spi­rits more, LARES, GENII, MANES, and LEMVRES, and the Lares, which came of of LARVE, were those Sha­dowes and Ghosts which they supposed did torment the do­mesticall and particular Inha­bitants of priuate houses. Larue) in the La­tine tongue, signifieth the condemned Soules of the wicked, which we in our vulgar tongue terme Spirits of Ghosts: but here it intimateth A Fantasme is according to S. Austin, an Imagination, and an Impression in the Soule, of such Formes and Shapes as are knowne, or of such as shall be imagined without any sight had of them. But a Spectre or Apparition is an Imagination of a Substance without a Bo­dy, the which presenteth it selfe sensibly vnto man, against the order and course of Na­ture, and maketh him afraid, onely the difference betweene the one and the other is this; A Fantasme is a thing without life and substance, and the AP­PARISION or SPECTRE, hath a substance hidden and concealed, which seemeth to moue the fantasticq body, the which it hath taken. sundry Shadowes, Fantasmes, and Apparisions, in which (as they say) they vse to appeare. And this is bor­rowed out of Petrarcq, in one of his Sonnets be­ginning thus:

And now this Sonnet of our being expounded and ended, there are (most noble Auditors) ma­ny and sundry goodly and delightfull doubts, no lesse profitable than difficult and hard to con­ceiue, about this subiect of IEALOVSIE. But because (presuming vpon your curteous patience) I haue somewhat exceeded the prefixed time, ap­pointed [Page 55] for this solemne place, I would be loth (any longer) to be tedious vnto you; and there­fore we will onely touch some of the chiefe and principall of them by the way, and such as wee shall thinke to be most fitting and necessary for vs. First then, some make a doubt, and are maruel­lous desirous to be resolued in this point, which is: whether Loue, I meane that There are sixe properties in LOVE. Selfe-Loue is the ground of Mischiefe. Laci­uious Loue, the roote of Re­morse. Wanton Loue the Cowards warfare. Pure Loue neuer saw the face of Feare. Pure Loues eies pierce the dar­kest corners, and pure Loue attempteth the greatest dan­gers, but this Loue which is a desire of Beautie, is a Hea [...]ull of Coldnesse, a Sweet full of Bitternesse, a Paine full of Pleasantnes making thoughts haue Eyes, and Hearts Eares. It is bred by Desire: nursed by Delight: weaned by Iea­lousie: kild by Dissembling, and buried by Ingratitude; to be briefe, It is not to be sup­prest by Wisedome, because not to be comprehended with Reason.Loue which is the desire of beautie, may be without IEALOVSIE, as it seemeth Petrarcq is of that opinion, in that Sonnet of his, (mentioned so often by vs hereto­fore) where he saith, that he loueth his Mistresse Laura, without being Ielous at all; and he shew­eth the reason thereof, and what the cause was he did so, when he said:

To this we answere briefly thus:

True Loue doth looke with pure suspicious eye, And you kill Loue, cashiering IEALOVSIE? Although another writeth af­ter this sort: On Loue (saith some) waits IEALOVSIE, But IEALOVSIE wants Loue: When curiously the ouerplus, Doth idle quarrels moue. Loue (truly) we cannot, vnlesse there be some spice of IEALOVSIE therein; and the reason is, for that (as Aristotle in his eyght Booke of Ele­gies saith, Loue is of one alone, but Friendship is amongst few. And where Ouid writeth to Ouid. lib. 2. & Eleg. 10. The substance of which Elegie is this. Grecinus, well I wot thou told'st me once, I could not be in Loue with two at once; By thee deceiu'd, by thee surpris'd am I, For now I Loue two Women equally: Both are well fauoured, both rich in aray, And which the lou'liest is, t'is hard to say, This seemes the fairest, so doth that to me, And this doth please me most, and so doth she: Euen as a Boat tost by contrary Winde, So with this Loue, and that wauers my Minde. Gre­cinus, that hee liked and loued two women, and [Page 54] (both of them) at one time: my opinion, vnder correction) is, hee mistooke himselfe in the name, although greater matters than these are tollerable, and passe for currant amongst Poets, whereupon our amorous Master This man was borne in Pratolino, a small Village in Tuscanie, not farre from Flo­rence, he wrote many sorts of Poemes, especially, Elegies, in which hee is counted, and (as others write) preferred before Ouid. Hee had two Kinsemen, that were Schollers, the one Baptista Allemanni, Bishop of Macone, a little Towne in Lombardie, and of inward ac­quaintance with this Author Benedisto Varchi, and the other called Antonio Allemanni, who wrote many pretty and witty workes, in the Italian tongue, imitating Burchiello, in his manner of Verse, called BVR­CHIELLESCA, and had acquaintance with most of the learned men of his time, whom he mentioneth very of­ten, especially, in this Sonnet following. Io, non inu [...]co Apollo, o altro Iddio, E veggio che le Muse'launo troppo n [...]ia, L'a iuto Orrinzo, el, Fedele, el, Pistoia, Pietro, Pamfilo, Sasso, el, Tibaldeo, E frai nostri Toscani, il Vnice, e Ceo, Questi versacchi miei, son loro a noia, E come Marzia, io prenderei la quoia, Che io non son con costor bu [...]n Cetaro. Lewes Allemanni sayth, imitating his most witty Shoolemaster Ouid, in one of his dainty and sweet Tuscan Ele­gies, thus.

Now if the woman that is beloued, should af­fect another, (when there cannot be any Loue true, but of one alone) it must then of necessitie follow, that she should not care for her first friend or Louer, this being the principall point required of her. Besides, the According to that saying: Loue doth desire the thing belou'd to see, That like it selfe in lou'ly shape may be. And as another very wittily writeth: LOVES greatest powerfull Force and Excellence, Is to transforme the very Soule and Essence Of the Louer into the thing belou'd, For so by deepe Philosophy t' is prou'd. Louer coueting and desi­ring to beget of his Mistresse a thing like vnto himselfe, it must follow by this rule, that he should not obtaine his purpose, hauing his she-Friend [Page 55] common to another. And whosoeuer beleeueth, or is of opinion, that a man may (truly) and from the heart, loue and affect more then one, at one and the selfe-same time, is very much mistaken, as (besides the authoritie of Aristotle aforesaid) we haue proued (euen now) in this place: neither doth he rightly vnderstand how that partie who loueth indeed, loueth his Friend as his owne pro­per and best good, hee crauing and desiring no­thing so much than that twaine should become one, as Plato reporteth, those two Louers answered Vulcan very well, and to this purpose Lodouicq Martelli spake excellent well, saying:

And (me thinkes) he spake as well, when he said thus:

Hauing sayd before.

Wee will then, for conclusion, say, that where­soeuer With which opinion these Verses agree well. The trewest Loue (sometim's) suspicious, And feedes on Cares and Feares most amorous; Nor can LOVE liue without some IEALOVSIE, Which tane away, it strait be­gins to dye. true Loue is, there indeed some IEA­LOVSIE must most necessarily be, and where no IEALOVSIE is, there of necessitie can be no true Loue indeed; as a certaine Gentleman [Page 56] (a friend of mine) wrote to his Mistresse, (who tooke some exceptions against him, because hee seemed to be a little yellow of her) when amongst other things he wrote thus vnto her.

And of this opinion was Petrarcq, as you may perceiue in the beginning of that his Sonnet so often, by peece-meale, repeated by vs, although (in the end therof) he to insinuate into her fauour, (and to commend his Mistres Laura the more) faineth like a right Poet, that there was no IEA­LOVSIE in him, which neuerthelesse, he yeel­deth to be in any other Louer else; and which our familiar acquaintance Master Lewes Allemanni, knowing to be but too true, added (therefore) those speeches (set downe a little before by mee) Fuor d'ogni vso humano. Meaning hereby, as if it were a thing against nature any liuing man, should not haue some small spice of IEALOVSIE in him.

Another doubt is, whether IEALOVSIE be (naturally) in Louers or no, many affirming it is, and withall, alleadging the same likewise to be in euery bruit Beast, as well as in man, Considering the great Plagues and Afflictions which many (too too Iealous ouer their Wiues) inflict most wor­thily vpon themselues, the vo­luntary Cuckolds, and kinde Wittols, are to be counted wise, in respect of the other, because they are neuer tortured with such frightfull and sensi­ble punishment: for, Most certaine t' is, where IEA­LOVSIE is bred, HORNES in the Mind, are worse then HORNES on the Head. Nay more, I holde Cockolds for their patience (herein) to be the only true happie & wise men indeed, for if (according to Seneca in his Epistles) hee that is Temperate, is Constant; who is Constant is vntroubled, who is vntroubled is without sorrow; who is without sor­row, is happy, wherefore he that is such a one is Happy, & wisedome is sufficient to a happy man: then say I, that all these Qualities coueriuing in a Cuckold, hee must needes be both Wise and Happy. excepting onely in those kinde of ouerkinde Creatures, to whom our language hath giuen a strange name, by reason they are carelesse and respectlesse of their owne honours, accounting it a small matter for their Wiues to be of the common gender, and more courteous then indeed ciuility or good manners require they should be.

And certainely it cannot be denied, but that That Beastes participate of this plague, the Shepheard Cratis found too much to his cost, who being falne in Loue with a shee-Goat, her Buck (through meere Iealousie) beat out his braines, as he lay asleepe. many sencelesse and brute beastes are Iealous, [Page 57] as is apparantly seene in Buls, in The Tale of the Swanne about Windsor, finding a strange Cocke with his Mate, and how farre hee swam after the other to kill it, and then returning backe, slew his Hen also (this being a certaine truth, & not many yeers done vpon this our Thames) is so well knowne to many Gentle­men, and to most Watermen of this Riuer, as it were need­lesse, to vse any more words a­bout the same; yet are there two brethren that I know, who (should any such strange thing be reported vnto them, especially by a Traueller) they would but scoffe at him for his labour, so peremptory and yet simple are they in their owne conceits; yea, they will not sticke to laugh and gibe there­at, as if it were a loud lye, onely because they themselues haue neuer seene nor knowne the like: but these silly ani­mals, and iolly crowing Cocks on their owne Dung-hill, Ariosto taxeth excellently well in the beginning of his seauenth Canto, of his Orlando Furioso, but this being out of their ele­ment, I will tell them, in their owne naturall and Mother tongue, what our Countrey man young Master Withers writes: (Whose pleasing Satyres neuer shall decay, But flourish greene, like Laurell and the Bay.) T'is grosse, sayth hee, and vaine for to vpholde That all reports which Trauellers vnfolde Of forraine Lands, are lyes; because they see No such strange things in their owne Parish be, And if I may not tearme such Fellowes vaine, Ile say, they are dull, and of a shallow braine. And him I count no wiseman that imparts To men of such base misconceiuing hearts Any rare matter; for their brutish wit Will very quickly wrong both him and it: For thus the saying is, and I hold so, Ignorance onely is true Wisedomes foe. Swannes, in Lyons, in Doues, in Hennes, and such like. Be­sides, mee thinkes, it is as naturall a thing for a man to be Iealous, as to desire to engender, and beget that which is like to himselfe, which is the most naturall thing (as Aristotle auoucheth in his second Booke De Anima) that liuing Creatures can doe. And this they doe, that they might (as hee alleadgeth oftentimes) in some sort, participate and come neere vnto diuine Na­ture, as much, and after the best manner they shall be able.

Now if any shall doubt whether IEALOV­SIE be a naturall thing or no, or (if it being so) why then should it be condemned and blamed so much (considering that according to Aristotles rule, none ought eyther to be praised or blamed for any thing, they do through the secret instinct of Nature, they being as it were indifferent (as we may terme them;) To them I answere thus: wee condemne not IEALOVSIE it selfe, but the [Page 58] Here the Author sheweth his opinion as concerning IEALOVSIE, because hee would not be mistaken, con­demning this foolish and su­spitious Humor; taken or con­ceited vpon no occasion or cause giuen, by many men o­uer-rashly, and to the vtter ouerthrow, many times of themselues, and of such as they loue & affect most deere­ly, wishing the golden Meane, that is, the Mediocritie or Ver­tue herein, to be vsed by euery one, and that also with great Discreation and Iudgement, remembring alwayes this Lesson. T' is fast good-will, and gentle curtesies, Reclaimes a Woman, and not watching eyes; For where Suspect directeth forward wils, Beauties sweet dalliance with despight it kils: And where a Man is Iealous without cause, The Woman good, for to be bad (oft) drawes. Excesse, and the too-too much of the same, as we find not fault with eating & drinking mode­rately, and other such naturall desires; but the abuse thereof, through too much glutonie. Sur­fetting, Quaffing, and Drunkennesse, being that which wee blame and disallow of, and therefore if any shall be Iealous with discretion, (and not without great and important cause,) ob­seruing a true and temperate decorùm in the Time, the place, the person, and the cause, as is fit and conuenient for him; especially, if it shall concerne his owne reputation and credit, or the good name of his Mistresse, or Wife, he is not to be discommended at all.

Another doubt is, whether this Disease is to be holpen, And yet vnder correction, and by the Authors leaue, it is hardly cured, if it haue once taken any deepe roote, especially (as Montagnie writeth) in the Femall Sexe, whom to aduise, to distaste and giue ouer this franticque Passion, were but time and labour lost. Their Es­sence, as he affirmeth, (for I will not in any wise subscribe to such an Hereticall opinion as this is, and therefore I alledge authoritie, Certissima omnium regula) being so much infected with IEALOVSIE, with Vanitie, and Curiositie, that there is no hope to cure them by any law­full meanes, they often recouering of this infirmitie, by a forme of health, much more to be feared, than the disease it selfe: for euen as some Enchantment cannot ridde away an euill spirit, but with laying it vpon another, so when they loose it, they transferre and bestow this Malady vpon their husbands. But (holla) pardon mee, (fayre-Ladies and Gentlewomen) to whose lot it shall fall by chance to read this Note. Had it not beene but that I should haue left this part Defectiue, and a meere Heteroclite, I would not haue proceeded so farre as I did: and now for amends, (yet not to flatter you at all,) speake Mounsieur Montagnie in French what he list, yet could I, and can alledge as much, if not more, against our owne Male-kinde, the Italian and others, and (I am sorry so to say) some here in our owne Countrey of England, testifying as much, who are and haue beene as violent, and virulent in this Bedlam-like Hu­mour, as any Woman Virago whatsoeuer. or else be a wound immortall, and incurable, as Ariosto affirmeth, with diuers others, who all subscribe to his opinion. To which I answere, that as the occasions which first bred the [Page 59] same, shall decrease or increase, so shall IEALOV­SIE it selfe, eyther decay or continue, and so when the cause shall be quite remoued, Some say I, and some say No, But few the Truth as yet doe know. Gramatici certant & adhuc sub Iudice lis est, The Maior part thinke this Iealosie to be like the Zwitzers in Germany, who if they once get entertainement in some good Castle or Holde, they will hardly, or neuer out: re­sembling such as keepe posses­sion of a place, frō whence they are seldome remoued, but by some great danger, or blood­shed: for as of little Brookes proceed great Riuers, so from small sparkes of IEALOVSIE arise great flames of distempe­rature, and then to trouble; such a one with good counsell, is but to augment his paine with suspition the more: and as a certaine writer speakes very well. No thraldome like the yoake of IEALOVSIE, A yoake that makes the liuing (still) to dye: It is the gnawing Vultur of the minde, For which nor Wit, nor Counsell, helpe can finde. IEALOVSIE it selfe shall be quite taken away, as the saying is, Sublata causa tollitur Effectus, I meane the Effects thereof, & that which is more than needeth, for as we see that in a sicke body wee may expell all su­perfluities, with purgations, and all grosse humors from thence, eyther by fit Medicine, or by absti­nence from Meates, or by forbearing of Drinkes, or such like good and wholesome kinde of Diet: Euen so, with Wisedome, Discretion, and Patience is the Mother of Opportunitie, shee presenting her selfe to them that nourish her Daughter carefully, when (before Rashnesse and Anger) she goeth inuisibly, and hinde­reth them from what they most thirst after, and therefore Patience preuailes gainst wrongs; effects them All In Time; when Haste headlong makes Men to fall. And to this effect another writeth thus. The Mindes afflictions, Patience can appease, It Passions kils, and healeth each Disease. And a third man thus. Patience is praise, Forbearance is a Treasure, Suffrance an Angell, Rage a Fiend sans measure: Let gentle Patience profit thee, for Patience is a thing, Whereby a Beggar gaineth of a discontented King. Pati­ence, may wee easily driue away and expell the Force and Rage of IEALOVSIE, eyther more or lesse, according to the orders before appoin­ted; and so againe by the contrary reasons (wan­ting the foresaid discreet remedies) it sometimes bursteth out so farre, and exceedeth beyond her bounds so much, as it turneth it selfe into extream Hatred, and from thence falleth into a Frensie, and Madnesse, not alone against the partie it loueth, or his aduersary or Riuall, but as well against all such, who, as he thinkes, may be any way an ob­stacle [Page 60] or let, to hinder or crosse him in his dis­signe and purpose, whereupon haue ensued most cruell reuengements, and most horrible and sa­uage murthers, beyond all common sense and reason; yea, many times against their owne re­putations and Honours, and against their owne proper selfes, and lifes, as we may see and read in Histories, as well Auncient as Moderne, and as Poets in their fictions and shadowes, show more at large, as when they faine how See Ouids Metamorphosis, for this History, and the other of Calisto at large, which to set downe were tedious. Io was turned into a Cow, through meere IEALOVSIE, and Calisto into a Beare, and the Tale of Procris, who by chance was slaine by her owne Husband Ce­phalus.

The like tragicall Tale may you read in Platoes Moral discourses, of this Cyanippus, and of another called Emilius, where the Curious may con­tent himselfe euery way. Plato likewise, a most graue and veritable wri­ter, affirmeth such an other disastre to haue happe­ned vnto the Wife of one called Cyanippus, and of a second man ycleped Emilius: but the most These two first Trage­dies, the one of a Captaine of Nocera, a Towne belong­ing to the Dukedome of Spo­leto in Italy: and the other of a Knight of Millane, you shall find in diuers Italian Authors, diuersly set downe, and as well translated (but that hee is a little too tedious in his phrase of speech) into English by Sir Geffery Fenton Knight, one of our late Queene Eliza­beths (of euerliuing memory) priuy Counsell in Ireland. strangest and horrible murthers committed in these our dayes, through the furie of IEALOV­SIE, were these three: the one by a Captaine of Nocer [...] (a Citie in Italy) vpon his Lord and Ma­ster, by reason of his Wife: the second more ex­ecrable than the other, was of a Knight of Mil­lan, a follower of the Lord Trivultio, who cause­lesse (through the diuelish instinct of this hellish IEALOVSIE) slew his faire and vertuous wife, onely because he could not endure that any man should match with her, after his owne death: and that done, He, with the selfe-same bloody dagger, stabbed himselfe through his owne heart. The third and last, was, (as I haue beene credibly en­formed by a Venetian Merchant, a friend of mine, traffiking in the famous City of London,) perpetrated by a This was W. C. of C. in the Countie of Yorke Esquire; who practised murther vpon his fayre and vertuous Wife, but committed the same vpon two young Infants, his Sonnes, the 23. of Aprill (then S. Georges day) in Anno 1605. For which he was executed on Monday the 5. day of May, next following. young Gentleman of a great [Page 61] House in ENGLAND, who left his fayre Wife for dead, after hee had butchered two louely Babes, his owne little Sonnes, and entending to haue killed the third, but that hee was by great good fortune, preuented of this his bloudy pur­pose.

But leauing to speake any more of such Tra­gicall and vnmanly attempts as these, I say, there are some that deserue to be reprehended, in the sharpest manner that may be, who, knowing that Loue is in God, nay rather, that hee is the first Loue, and the occasion of all other good Affe­ctions whatsoeuer, are so sottish as to suppose, that their is IEALOVSIE, after the same man­ner in him, as there is in vs, which is meere and monstrous Blasphemy, for one (but in thought) to conceit as much, they not knowing, or at least-wise forgetting, that all things in God, or which are attributed vnto him, are in him, after another different manner, then they are in vs, because, that Loue which is in God, is meere Pietie and Of the marriage of Chari­tie with her other two Sisters Faith and Hope, there is a pret­ty Tale, which is this: About the Beginning of the world, these three Sisters, left Hea­uen, to come downe here to the earth, to get good Hus­bands: and such was Faiths good fortune, as shee stayed not long, but sped of her purpose: for Abraham, who was the Father of the Faithfull, tooke her quickely to Wife. Hope seeing her Sisters good hap, had good hope to meete with the like good match, yet stayed shee somewhat long, be­fore shee could speede; but in the end Dauid tooke her to his Spouse: for hee alwayes hoped in God, and as hee saith, My Soule hopeth in the Lord. But poore Charitie had the worst lucke of the three; for euer since her first comming hither, she hath wandered vp and downe and none would entertaine her, nor as yet will; so that (by reason the world is so colde in Charitie,) she is like to remayne a Virgin still, and so returne to the better place, from whence shee first came. Charitie, and is in him endlesse, whereas the Affection and Loue, which men beare one to an­other, hath his End as well as his Beginning: But this Subiect, is too deepe and bottomlesse a Sea, for the light plummet of my Shallow wit to sound, and too high a Mistery for my slender con­ceit to diue or search into the secrets thereof: [Page 62] And therefore rendering most humble thankes vnto that Almightie Wee will in our Notes, as wee began, so conclude with God, who as hee is the Be­ginning of All things, so is he the End, ALPHA and O­MEGA; He is the First LOVE, and the Last LOVE, and is CHARITIE it selfe: than which nothing more precious, since hee that dwelleth in CHARITIE, dwelleth in God, and what more secure? and God in him, then, what more delectable? and to con­clude: God is all Loue, Affection, Charity, Which hath no end but is eternally. Power, who is All in All, knoweth All, and can doe All; and acknow­ledging my selfe much beholding vn­to All here, for your extraor­dinary and vndeserued Patience, I rest,