A Letter inuiting his Friend to write to him.

THough the want of your swéet societie my worthy Friend) doe occasion reason of griefe, yet it lies in you euen by the of­ten mission of your desired Letters, to mitigate that sorrow: and since the di­stance of place doth denie vs our accusto­med conference and orall communica­tion, let the passage and entercourse of our Letters supplie that defect. Now our tongues cannot be heard, let vs be frequent in our writing: and let not the change of places al­ter our mindes. Therefore that you might not iudge mée negligent of our fore passed amitie, or forgetfull of our olde friendship, I haue tooke boldnesse to visit you with this let­ter, desiring you to be no niggard in this kinde of friendly remembrance. I wish to you all prosperous fortunes as to my selfe, and continue my loue to you with all sinceritie. But lest the proliritie of my Letter grow to the length of an Oration, I set bounds to my writing, and remains

The Answer. A Letter excusatory for not writing.

I Am afraid (iudicious and kind sir) that it is with me as it is with that vnfortunate Pylot who falls into the Gulfe of Scylla, while he indeauors to avoid the danger of Charybdis.

I confesse I haue receiued Letters from you, and seeking by not answering all this while to conceale the rudenesse of my vnpolished penne from the deepe discerning eye of your iudgement, I doubt whether I haue not made shipwracke of your good opinion, who happely imputes my silence vnto my negligence of your loue, or to my obliuion of your pas­sed kindenesses: But I beseech you (kindest Sir) to haue thus much confidence in disposition, that no confused Chaos of cogitations, no fullnesse of imployment, shall banish your remembrance out of my thoughts: though I bee neuer so busie I make answer to those I little regard, I dare scarce write to you (I am possessed with such a due reuerence of your worthinesse) when I am most at leisure. Yet finding in my selfe how farre greater a crime it is to neglect duty then to lay open my imperfection to a well wishing friend, I haue chosen the latter to make tender of the former: wish­ing that as you equalize graue Nestor in wisedome, so you might parallell him in the longaeuity of a happy life, I hum­bly surccase:

A Letter to a friend vpon the death of his wife.

THe acquaintance I had with your vertuous wife (ho­nest friend) makes me feele the sense of her losse, for hée that can be insensible of the losse of a good woman, is an a­lien to nature, and a rebell to all morall vertues. I may truly say she was praise-worthy for her many good parts, but they were but good prouisions for the world to come.

Giue me leaue to aske you why you mourne, I meane not why you mourne outwardly; which is an old custome and a matter of formality, but why doe you mourne in­wardly, which is the true sorrow: you will say (I say) for the losse of a companion. Indeed you doe well, for as a man was solitary before God gaue him one, so should he be after God takes her away: but there is a meane in all things. To be hard hearted is beast like, to bée tender is effeminate, to be sensible is manly. As for you, you cannot offer a more acceptable sacrifice to the dead, then by turning the loue you bare her, into care of her children, to which I know you by nature so well inclined, that I néed not to instruct, but onely remember you: but since wise men in sudden acci­dents and in cases concerning themselues are sometimes to séeke, I am bold to aduise you now, though henceforth I would be glad to be aduised by you: resting

A comfortable Letter vpon the losse of a Husband.

THough none knowes the value of your losse, nor féeles the want so déeply as your selfe. yet I may take vpon me more féeling than another man, being for the loue I beare you more sensible of your misfortune and affliction: I my selfe haue contributed many teares, and I confesse there is great allowance of griefe for good wiues for the fatall departures of worthy husbands, but you were better forget the dead then the liuing, (your daughters I meane) to whom (I am opinionated) you would not wish so sad an increase as your death would bring them, which by this [...] c [...]se of [...]cating sorrow is too much hastened. O let not your vertue of patience die before you, but so mag­nanimously behaue your selfe in your troubles, that your acquaintance may finde more cause to commend you, then to aduise you. Madam I beséech you hold me to be

A Letter of griefe for his friends absence.

OF such comfortable vse is the familiarity of a swéet companion, that those houres of our life séeme most happie which are passed away in the societie of a friend: If we take a iourney his companie is in stead of a Coach; there's not a thought, nor a word, of the tediousnesse of the way: If we abide at home, we imagine that the sithe of Time too spéedily swéepes away the houres. But on the contrarie, needs must his life bée melancholike that hath no friend to sweeten the slow transcursion of Time. I wish my owne experience were not too true proofe hereof, for since your absence, swéetest friend, melancholly hath béene my concomitant, and your remembrance my greatest com­fort. And as the Turtle pines away after the losse of his mate, so since your departure my bosom hath admitted no consolation. I request you by that interest which I haue in your loue, since in person I cannot, that I may sée you in a Letter. Silence betweene absent friends incurres the censure of an inofficious and inciuill disposition. But I know you will vindicate your selfe from a staine of so ab­horent a nature. I rest

A Letter for the entreaty of good will to a young Gentlewoman.

THe long and considerate regard by which in déepe con­templation I haue eyed your most rare and singular vertues, ioyned with so admirable beauty, and much plea­sing [Page 6] condition, graffed in your person, hath moued me, good mistris E. B. among a number whom I know intirely to fauour you, earnestly to loue you and therewith to offer my selfe vnto you. Now howbeit I may happely séeme in some eies, the least in worthinesse of a number that daily frequent you, yet may you vouchsafe in your owne priuate to reckon me with the greatest in willingnesse. Wherein, if a settled and immoueable affection towards you if fer­uent and assured loue, grounded vpon the vndecaiable stay and prop of your vertues, if continuall, nay rather inexter­minable vowes, in all perpetuitie addicted vnto your ser­uices, if neuer ceasing and tormenting griefe vncertainlie caried by a hazardous expectation, closed in the circle of your gratious conceit, whether to bring vnto the eares of my soule a swéet murmur of life, or seuere sentence of a present death, may ought at all preuaile, either to moue, entreat, sue, sollicite, or perswade you, I then am the man, who shrining in my inward thoughts the dignitie of so worthie a creature, and prising in deepest waight (though not to the vttermost value) the estimate of so incomparable a beautie, haue resolued liuing to honor you, and dying neuer to serue other but you, from whose delicate lookes expecting no worse acceptance, then may seeme answerable to so diuine an excellencie: I remaine

Her Answer.

THat men haue skill, and are by sundry commendable parts enabled to set forth their meaning, there needeth no other testimony then your present writing, your elo­quence is far beyond the reach of my poore wit, and the multiplicity of your praises fitter for a poeticall goddesse, then to the erection of any such deesse. For my part, I shall hold them as the fancies and toyes of men, issuing from the weakest of their humors, and how farre my selfe can deserue, none better then my selfe can conceiue. Being one of so good sort, as you are, I could doe no lesse then write againe vnto you, the rather to satisfie the importunity of your mes­senger, wishing such a one to your lot as might paragonnize those excellencies you writ of, and answer euery way to the substance of all those inestimable praises. So hauing your loue and your writing, (as I take it) be best suted together.

Another Letter to his Mistris, desiring her loue.

GOod mistris I. P. I am bold, though a stranger, to make these lines messengers at this present of my good meaning towards you, wherein I goe not about by pretence of a most entire and hearty good will, which I pro­fesse to beare you, to make present surmise thereupon that on so bare an assertion you should immediately credit mee, I prise your worthinesse at a far greater value, and weigh your good allowance so much, as I onely desire by your fauourable liking I may intreat to haue accesse vnto you, not doubting but by being in your presence, I shall so suffi­ciently by apparent proofe mainetaine the efficacie of that I now protest, and giue so good occasion, to déeme well of me, as you shall haue no reason to repent you, that vpon so honest and louing a request you haue condiscended to my entreaty: whose health and prosperity tendring as mine owne. I send you with my Letter a token of that great af­fection I beare you, which I pray you most hartily to ac­cept of, and weare for me. And euer so doe continue,

Her answer.

SIr, your message is to me as strange as your selfe, who are vnto me as stranger, and what your good meaning vnto me is, I know not: for giuing of credit vnto your assertion, as you seeme not to challenge it, so was I neuer hitherto of my selfe so hasty to doe it, hauing oftentimes beene taught, that of fairest speeches ensueth the foulest actions: I cannot [Page 9] condemne your purpose, because I intend the best of your dealings, and howbeit I am in no point so restrained, but that in all reasonable sort that may bee, any accesse may be granted, so when you shall by farther notice sufficiently make apparent that with modesty I may doe it, I shall bee willing so farre forth as my years and present being may mi­nister occasion, in any thankfull requitall that may bee to yeeld my selfe vnto you. Till which time I returne your to­ken againe, and my hearty thankes vnto you by this bearer.

To a beauteous Lady vpon a long affection.

HOw vnpossible it is to keepe heat from fire, being that very nature of the element, I referre to your best iudgement, and how neare a spirit of that nature, is the loue of the heart kindled by the eye of beautie, I leaue to your kindnesse to consider: since then such is the force of true loue, as cannot be so smothered vp in silence, but that it must burst out into words and actions, either to gaine comfort, or to suffer death, pardon (fairest of beauties) that Patient that in anguish séekes ease and deny not your help in the excellency of the cure: your beautie hath moued me, your excellent teature your comely gesture, your swéet be­hauiour, haue all concurred to make mée vnhappie, vnlesse your hand helpe me, and though the hurt be more felt then séene, yet is it not deadly, if you be kinde: loath I am to bee a begger without desert, and yet loue will stoop a high spi­rit, [Page 10] which, by the bond of due honour hath sworne me your true seruant: in which Title, vnder heauen, shall bee my hearts greatest honor: and in the honor of whose fauour, shall be the height of my worlds happinesse: in hope where­of, praying to the highest Power in the heauens to blesse you with all felicitie on earth, I rest

Her Answer.

SIr, how easie it is to quench a fire in his first kindling, ex­perience can deliuer; in the diuersity of hearts loue being not the least that is like to doe much hurt, I wish you to take order with your wits, lest it bring your braine to an ill com­fort. And therefore in placing of affection, bee not too far from discretion, lest the perswasion of selfe will, be an abuse of a better sense. If I had skill in Physicke, I would prescribe you helpe for your disease, but being a simple woman, you must haue patience with my plainnesse, who not knowing how to doe you good, and vnwilling to wish you hurt, lea­uing you to a better Paradise then in the torment of an idle passion, I rest in what I may,

To a iudicious Gentlewoman.

THe forcible effect & conquest which your beauty hath wrought in my heart constrained me in your kindnesse to place the hope of my fortune: beséeching you so to equall your outward excellence with an inward perfection, that faith may not haue feare of fauour, where humilitie shall guide the course of affection: I should estéeme my selfe the most vnhappie if I should giue your eares any distast by my suit but if it light within the line of your liking, it shall begin the garden of my paradise: so vnder heauen séeking no other star, then the guide of your grace to lead my heart to the ioy of my life: I rest, neuer to rest till I euer rest

Her Answer.

I Am sory to thinke that a shadow of dust should haue that force (in conceit) to rob reason of his contents: for beau­tie is but a shadow, which if your eye hath found in my face, let it goe no further lest it doe wrong to my will in hurting your heart: my inside I hope is farre from disgracing any good in my outside, and both altogether vnhappy, if they haue beene any occasion of euill: but least I may seeme dis­content either at the matter or manner of your writing, I discharge you of the burthen of that feare, by the kinde ac­ceptation of your affection, which though I cannot answer as I would, yet, as in good reason I may, I will thinke and consider of, which if it fall out to your liking, be not vn­faithfull in your loue, in hope whereof I rest,

To a Lady, with whom he fell in loue seeing her at a solemne Triumph.

VVHen I saw you (excellent Lady) viewing the Triumphs, looking vpon your eyes mee thought Heauen opened to discouer a greater glory, and Angells tylting there tooke from my iudgement all things else done out of that blessed compasse, but mine amazement became my death, and my death must be your Triumph, for how euer the conflict appeared, your glances which were the wounding weapons, strucke through my weake sight, and slew my heart, though armed in the strongest sort of my bosome; I am not so happie as to bée a prisoner (for there were hope) but so infortunate to die in despaire, that to haue the monument of my remembrance erected in the Temple of your pittie, is the vtmost aime my blisse lookes to, the cruelty of faire ones hath pronounst my iudg­ment, and saith, it is impossible to affect where they haue not séene? Oh see me in this sorrowfull paper, (you fairest of adored beauties) and let that sight moue affection, affec­tion knowledge, knowledge pittie, and pittie that worke of the highest, which is onely to doe miracles, so shall crueltie giue himselfe the lie, proue you a goddesse, and make mee (the happiest of men) a trumpet of your renowne and glo­rie: My loue is like your goodnesse without parallel, my faith shall goe beyond that loue, and my seruice crowne both with an infinite merit. This is my sacrifice, which if you accept, (excellentest of faire beauties, and innobled with all rich perfections) I liue, if otherwise, my ioy is, I perish by so excellent a creature.

Her answer.

SIr, he that of a light blow with the eye, makes a deadly wound at his heart, is either too vnworthily faint, or much too superstitious in the signes and planets; for mine owne part, my knowledge assures mee I am free from any such malignant influence: I confesse a weake appetite vnguar­ded with iudgement, nay oft stumble and receiue knockes: nay sometimes fall to vtter ruine; and to giue to that weak­nesse the gouernment of my fortune, were to rob my selfe of all good mens pities. In my worst mischances, the ils I cause not, reason cannot blame me, if I cure not, since what is with­out me, nothing appertaines vnto mee, but you will make my beauty guilty, poore nothing, how pittifully art thou slandred; which being a meere Chymera of imagination, hast not any thing in th [...], but the strength of folly, and mans fancy; it is not a substance, for then it might be felt, let loose or restrained; it hath no certaine shape, for then all men would like one figure; nor hath it any abiding, for then it would euer bee found in its owne mansion; it is not com­pounded of perfit colours for then no man would dote of mixt deformities, nor doth it subsist of reall vertues, for then no man would wed with the vicious: to conclude, it is no­thing hath hurt you, and that nothing I send to cure you: rashnesse shall not breed my repentance: your loue is too in­finite, your faith too worthy, and your seruice too rich; a meaner proportion will guard safest a meane fortune; and so wishing your great sacrifice to a greater deitie, I rest,

To his Mistris that was of wanton and light cariage.

BEcause my vow of loue (my sometimes dearly beloued mistris) hath made me your friend, therefore the care of your honour shall make me your counseller; whether it come seasonably or no, examine your heart, that it comes freely and with a wholesome intent, truth bée my witnesse. It is told me (mistris) that your actions are publikely no­ted: for their contumelious leuity, and your wanton light­nesse is so marked by your beholders, that contempt is be­come your onely companion your apparell is like your minde vnconstant and vncomelie, and drawes rather ad­miration then reuerence toyes are your studies, and vani­ties your practise, so that making your selfe a slaue to plea­sure, you haue forgotten the violence of mis-fortune, if this hee true (my dearly beloued mistris) then in this I must perish, since liuing in you, your least fall wounds both mee and mine honour: I know you are faire and young: but if you cloath them here with vices, what will you weare in the graue, but infamie? life runs without féet, mis-fortune strikes without an alarme, and the glorie of vanitie breaks like a bubble, and leaues nothing behind but the print of disgraces: it is too much to be euill once, for the euill is ne­uer forgotten, and it is too little not to be euer good, since the smallest blot dashes all out of remembrance. I would I could as easilie excuse you, as fame is apt to accuse you: par­don me if I be too hold in writing, it is vrged by a too much boldnesse in action the one made good, the other shall bee gracious beyond expression; till then giue my pen leaue to kéepe my heart from breaking.

Her Answer.

A Zeale that is kindled (my best seruant) with the false fire of mens reports, is rather held a superstition then an honest deuotion; for it both wrongs truth, and wounds an innocent reputation; and those light beleeuers, which build faith on such weake grounds, deserue nothing but ig­nominie and contempt: if now you accuse my life in your absence, where was your iudgment when I walkt in your presence? O be not so false to the worth of your owne truth, to say you could not see that which all the world hath dis­couered, or if you did, to be so blind to affect a thing vn­worthy, but it may be, absence hath begotten new thoughts, those thoughts new affection, and that affection must needs finde a new quarrell with old friendship: if it be so, your owne course lead you. I freely confesse I am not such a beg­ger that can weare rags, such a miser that can eate roots, nor so subtile to speake like a Iugler, with a reed in my mouth: Truth I serue, freedome I loue, and plainnesse is my condi­tion. If these haue tasts you cannot relish, you must in some other soyle seeke new comforts, for mine owne part I will be no bondslaue to opinion, till I know it constant, nor no seruant of the time, till it be vncorrupt, and more honest. As for my life, had it for euery feather a wing, and my for­tune double so many hazards, yet will I bring the one to my graue with honour, and make the other ashamed with my sufferance. I rest,

A desperate Louer to his quondam Mistris.

IT shall be vertue in you (fairest) to receiue my despaires though you [...] no comforts, and if in the reading you vouchsafe a sigh to my remembrance, it is a dirge that shall make me for euer sléepe in quiet: despaire long since gaue me iudgement, and obedience onely shall make my death patient: [...]t is necessary I die for you, since fate de­nies me to liue with you, for my selfe is such an interpositi­on betwixt you and your glorie, that my griefes would kéepe much of your Sunne eclipsed: I know my wants, and that there is nothing either in my life or fortune to de­serue you, onely an infinite desire, which but by death can neuer bee lessened, then since all things suit with my de­spaires, be all delaies with your loue (euer farre from me) and let the world onely remember this in my Epitaph, that it was not my folly, but your will; not my despaire, but truth in obedience: But O this is that I should doe, not speake: and the musicke is more vnfit for your eare, then your loue for my heart: pardon my tell-tale sorrow, it rather speakes things fit to bée done, then done, and will sooner craue the glorie in wish then action, and yet the poi­son of disdaine is so violent, I know it will wast me, and wast me it shall, for my comforts are alreadie consumed, and in that consumption let all things but my memorie turne to its first Chaos, and so liue as happie as I vnfor­tunate:

Her Answer.

HOw much I stand diuided with the vnresonablenesse of your affection, my distracted writing may witnesse; wherein I can obserue no order, because nothing in your de­sires holds good proportion, you bid me loue, and will not heare when destiny denies it, and you seeke that rule from me, which is quite taken out of my knowledge (deare Sir) awaken vp your first wisedome, and tye your actions on pro­uidence, then shall you see I haue lesse power to draw on mine, then you to withdraw your affection: will you make beauty such a slaue, that it must obey euery gaze, or the poore owner so vnfortunate, that she must be seruile to the desire of any wilfull longing, then so, how much safer were it to be foule and fortunate? But you will dye, woes me that folly should make you so impudent, to boast you dare doe a sinne so damnable; but I know you will dye but as actors dye, in one scaene and reuiue in the next, to make it more glorious, thus to dye I allow you, and to such I will giue a smile for pitty: to any other a charitable teare, to thinke that any Gentleman should become a traitor to Nature. Lastly, let me win you by the loue you boast of, neuer henceforth to sollicite me, for as no reliefe can come from such vaine labour, so nothing but great disdaine will grow from my vexation: So hoping you will make that hope desperate, which is without all hope of vertue, I rest,

A Letter of true kindnesse.

IF dame Nature had béene pleased to haue made my bo­some transparent, your eies should see the secrets of my heart, which if it haue any happinesse in the world, it is in the hope of your fauour: but amazed with the admirati­on of your worth, I know not what to say of your worthi­nesse, but onely this, that finding the due of your desert ex­ceeding my capacitie in commendatiō, I wil leaue the excel­lencie thereof to more honourable inuention, and thinke Fortune enough fauourable, if shee prefer my seruice to your commandement: presents I haue none worthy the sending, but the heart of my loue at your emploiment which being nothing more then what you will, I rest, euer one and the same.

Her Answer.

IF your speeches be led by your thoughts, it is needlesse to desire a transparencie in your bosome, for when as the heart and the tongue agree together, then mens protestati­ons are followed with reall performance: words of admira­tion trouble discretion, in construction, and eloquence in loue hath not the best commendation, inuentions are ready where fancy is studious, but where wit is vertuous, there is will gracious: your present most worthy of all acceptance, cannot be better requited then thankfully remembred, and if conceits meet in a mutuall content, what comfort may fol­low, I leaue to the heauens fauour, and so I rest,

A Letter of counsell from a discreet mother to her daughter newly maried.

MY good daughter: thou art now going into the world, and must leaue to be a child, and learne to be a mo­ther, and looke to a familie, rather then to the intertain­ment of a friend, and yet both necessarie, in their kinds: finde the disposition of thy husband, and in anie wise moue not his impatiencie, let thy kindnesse bind his loue, thy vertue his comfort, thy huswiferie his commendations: auoid tatling gossips, yet be kind to thy neighbours, and no stranger to thy kindred: be gentle to thy seruants and not ouer familar: haue an eie to thy doore, and a locke to thy chest: keepe a bit for begger, and a bone for a dog: cherish the Bée that brings home honie, and make much of the Cocke that makes much of his Chickens, take heed abroad of the Kite and within of the Rat: pray to God for his blessings on all thy proceedings, and haue a religious care of thy modest gouernment; and rather for charitie then praise, giue relife vnto the poore; if at any time thou hast need of any good I can doe thee, be assured whilst thou hast a mother, thou hast a friend: so hoping in thy kind­nesse, thou wilt take care of thy counsell, beseeching God to blesse thée, that I may euer haue ioy of thée, with my hearts loue, to his tuition I leaue thée.

Her Answer.

MY good Mother: I haue passed the yeares of a childe, and know the care of a mother, and therefore for your kind aduise for my cariage I thanke you, and what benefit I [Page 20] will make of your lessons, you shall finde in the fruit of my obseruation, I am but newly come into the world, and God knowes when I shall goe out of it; and am yet scarce warme in my house, and therefore hardly know yet how to goe through it. For me husbands humour, if he alter not his na­ture, I doe not doubt but wee shall liue as Doues, while care and kindnesse shall continue content: my seruants shall find me both a mistris and a friend; my neighbours no strangers, and idle gossips no companion. Thus in the duty of loue, with thankes for your motherly care, in prayer to the Al­mighty to blesse me with his grace, and to liue no longer then in his loue and yours: I take my leaue, for this time, but rest during life,

A Letter in case of wrong supposed to be committed.

SIr, your Letter is more troublesome to my conceit then sauouring (as I am credibly led to thinke) of that your wonted most noble disposition vnto me I haue receiued. With what supportation and vnaccustomed griefe I haue retained them, I referre to any one (guiltlesse accused and suspended from so high sauours, as formerly by your boun­tie to me haue beene performed) simply to bee coniectured. Long was it ere I could satisfie my selfe by any accesse that might be, to profer my selfe or these humbled Letters vnto you, yet neuerthelesse weighing how farre different those new occurrents were from those your ancient fauors, I surmised with my selfe that the instigation procéeded solely from others, hardly perchance bearing those graces [Page 21] wherein I stood with you, and becomming thereupon my bitter enemies, the sinister deuise whereof stood vpon me wholly to ouerthrow or impugne. For which hauing no other nor better meanes at this time then these submissiue lines, I purpose them vnto you as solicitors of your former liking, confessing if in any waies I haue erred vnto you, as I will not vtterly seclude my selfe from euery error, it was but as a young man rather by ignorance then of ma­lice any way to be intended: as touching any other obiecti­on, let me but craue pardon to haue accesse vnto your pre­sence, and then iudge as you finde me: two waies are only left, my accusers to my face, or mine owne simplicitie to cleare me. This is all I require, and so much I hope you will not denie me: wherewith resting in due acknowledge­ment of that your former bountie, I humbly surcease, this 15 of Decemb. 1628.

A Letter from a Seruant to his Master.

SIr, my humble dutie remembred, vnto you, and to my good mistris. You may please to vnderstand that I haue dispatcht the businesse vnto Master C. for the monie you sent mee for, and haue giuen him an acquitance for the same, and according to your good remembrance vnto [...], I haue bought for you twelue gallons of the best Sacke, and eighteene gallons of Claret, and fifteene yards of fine Broad cloath, and thirtie ells of fine Holland all which I hope by Gods grace shall come vnto your hands: I haue sent you also here inclosed your Bill of parcels, and their seuerall prices.

I wrote formerly vnto you for certaine commodities out of the Country, which I haue now receiued by the Carrier. Here is at this present small newes worth the writing vn­to you: wherfore praying vnto all Almighty God for the health and prosperity of you and all yours, I humbly take my leaue, and rest,

An answer of a Letter for courtesie and fauour receiued.

MY good friend M. G. how much I am bound vnto you for multitude of fauours, and especially for that you haue made choice of me, as to write your kinde and friendly Letters in my befalse, I can no other waies ex­presse, then to continue your affectionate poore friend, and will for euer acknowledge it, as of your great kindnesse be­yond any merit of mine owne, and as by duty I am bound, no day shall passe me that I will not pray to God for your health and prosperitie, and the redoubling of your daies: beseeching you to excuse me in that in person I cannot doe or performe what I desire, by reason at this time some hast extraordinary will not permit me. I therefore most hum­bly take my leaue of you,

The Fathers Letter against the Sonne.

THe sight of your Letters and message receiued by your seruant, haue (good Cousen) bred to me in perusing and hearkning vnto the same no small matter of disquiet: not that your letters or messages for themselues are or haue béene at any time ill welcome to my hands, but in re­spect of him for whom they come, so filled haue I beene long since with the euils by him committed. I am nothing ig­norant that of meere loue and good will you framed your spéech vnto me in the behalfe of my vngratious Sonne. I neede not repeat here vnto you with what fatherly care I haue brought him vp to mans estate how likewise I sought both with maintenace and place of credit to continue him as a Gentleman. I placed him with a right godly and worshipfull Knight Sir T. H. who for my sake loued him, and I know tooke paines to reforme him. Complaints were infinite against him. This man could not be quiet for him, that mans seruants he misused: this party hee decei­ued, and others hi [...]hly wronged. Since which, too much to be reuealed how stubbornly in mine owne house, how in­iuriously amongst mine owne people hath he behaued him­selfe. And because it was against Christmas, and I would not dismisse him vnfurnished, I gaue him for himselfe and his man a couple of good Geldings, and twentie pound in his purse: he was no sooner gone twentie miles, but spent his money at Cards and Dice, pawnd his apparell, sold his Geldings, and in the end comming to one of my tenants to borrow money which he denied to lend him, hee fell vpon him and beat him. Thus (louing Cousen) you see in part his ill led life, and may thereby conceiue my griefe. Sen­ding in the meane time my commendations and earnest thanks for your care of my well being, to you and your bed­fellow.

The answer.

I Haue receiued your letter (my kind vncle) in answer to the last letter I sent, which was the businesse of your son. I am very sory that a Gentleman of your grauity and know­ledge in the world, and for the good estimation that the country hath of you, that Master F. C. your sonne should deale so vnkindly with you. I know your fatherly care of him from time to time, and how diligent, and not sparing any cost in bringing him vp; and to place him with a gentle­man of the best ranke in all the country was nobly done, yet with all you might (if so you please) doe well to consider he is your owne sonne, and if you looke into your owne youth, you shall finde these were your youthfull straines, and so much the more to bee borne withall, and time and age will tame all these things in an ingenious and witty Gentleman. I desire you for my sake retaine him kindly in­to your fauour this once more, for he hath (vpon the repu­tation of a Gentleman) promised neuer to doe the like enor­mities, but to liue as a most dutifull and louing sonne: and for the same I dare passe my credit. I pray you entertaine him respectiuely, and I will euer remaine,

To his mistris (quondam) hauing spent all his meanes vpon her in prosperitie, he being imprisond she forsakes him.

IF my paper were made of the skins of croking Toades, or speckled Adders, my inke of the blood of Scorpions, my penne pluckt from the Screech-owles wings, they were but fit instruments to write vnto thee, that art more ve­nemous, more poisonous, more ominous, then the worst of these: for doe but descend into the depth of thy guilty con­science, and sée how manie vowes, promises, and deepe protestations, nay millions of oathes hast thou sworne thy fidelitie vnto mée, which one day will witnesse against thee. If I should speake with the voice of Mandrakes, or as loud as the noise of the Summers thunder, yet could I not proclaime vnto the world thy infinite basenesses; I being so firme and constant vnto thée when I swomme in the golden flouds of prosperitie, then wast thou (as often thou didst protest) firme and constant vnto mée. But when the water began to ebbe, and my ship run on ground, then (like thy selfe) thou forsookest me At first thy loue was as hot to me as an Italian to a wench of fifteene, but when my gold was spent and consumed, then thy loue grew as cold to me as a Fishmongers fingers are in a great frost. Doe not thinke I write this vnto thee to bée a meanes to helpe me in this my great distresse and imprisonment: for know thou though all my friends haue forsaken me, nay though death, griefe, affliction, and all the miseries that possibly can befall a miserable man in this wretched world while he liueth here, and all these griefes doe euerie minute torment me, yet I had rather fall by their force, then rise by thy assistance, so hatefull, grieuous, so loathsome, so tedious and so incomparably abominable is thy very name vnto me.

Leprosie compared to thée, is all health, and all manner of infection but a flea-biting, and all manner of diseases, though they were fetcht from twentie Hospitals, were but like the fit of an Ague: for thou art all Leprosie, all disea­ses, for neither thy bodie nor thy soule are frée, thy body from the disease of shame and disgrace of the world, nor thy soule frée from the sicknesse of sinne. God amend and pardon thée.

To his friend lying long sicke.

MY worthie friend Master Prince: though the distance of place be such, that we cannot heare one another, you in the center of the Kingdome (London) I at Yorke, yet you shall sée me in my Letter, my tongue, my penne, my heart, are all your seruants. You plainly perceiue a long lingring sicknesse will draw you to a long desired rest, where long your mind hath had his residence. You now perceiue Fame is but smoake, metalls but drosse, pleasure but a pill with sugar. All these earthly delights if they were sound, how short they are, fléeting euery day: they are but as a good day betwixt two Agues, or like Sodomes Apples, faire red outsides, being handled are blacke dust. I admire the faith of Moses, but presupposing his faith, I wonder not at his choice, that he preferred the afflictions of Israel to the pleasures of Aegypt, and chose rather to eate the Lambe with sowre herbes, then all their flesh-pots. That God hath giuen you a vertuous wife, dutifull children, wealth in abundance, an honest esteeme and good repute amongst your neighbours, and the generall loue of your [Page 27] countrie where you liue, are fauours that looke for thanks. Who would desire to liue, that knowes his Sauiour died, who can be a Christian and would not be like him? Could you be happy and not die? indéed Nature knowes not what she would haue. Our friends of this world can neither a­bide vs miserable in our stay, nor happie in our departure. What God hath giuen you on earth, is nothing to that hée will giue you in heauen: you are a stranger here: there at home. There Saints and Angles shall applaud you, there God himselfe will fill you with himselfe: haue patience in all afflictions, and reade the troubles of Iob, and in that exercise your selfe both day and night, vntill God shall ei­ther mend or end these your daies on earth. To which great God and mercifull Lord I commit you, praying for your eternall rest.

A Letter wherein is recommended to a Nobleman from his inferiour the conditions and behauiour of a person.

MAy it please your Lordship, this Gentleman the bearer hereof, with whom along time I haue beene acquain­ted, and of his qualities and good behauiour haue sound and large experiment, hauing béene a good time a suter vnto me to moue this preferment vnto your Lordships seruice, I haue now at last condiscended vnto, as well for that I know your Lordship to bee now presently disfurnished of such a one, as also that there will hardly bee preferred vpon the sudden any one so meet as himselfe to supply that place. And thus much by your pardon and allowance daie I as­sure [Page 28] vnto you, that if it may please you in credit of my simple knowledge and opinion to imploy him, you shall finde that, besides hée is in parentage descended from such of whom I know your Lordship will very well account of, he is also learned, decréet, sober, wise, and moderate in all his actions, of great secresie, assured trust, and well gouer­ned in all companies. Finally, a man so méet and to this present turne so apt and necessarie, as I cannot easily ima­gine how you may be serued better. Pleaseth your Lord­ship the rather, for the great good will I beare him, and humble duty I owe vnto you, to accept, imploy, and ac­count of him: I nothing doubt but your Lordship hauing by such meanes giuen credit to my choice, shall finde him such as for whose good seruice you shall haue further occa­sion to thinke well of me for him. Whereof nothing doubt­ting, I doe referre both him and my selfe, in all humblenes to your best and most fauourable opinion. From my house in Arthingworth, this 5 of Iune.

The Answer.

AFter my hearty commendations vnto you. Sithence the receipt of your last letters and commendations of W. R. into my seruice, I haue had small occasion either to write or to send vnto you till this present; and for as much as vpon your certaine notice deliuered vnto me in fauour of his preferment, I held my selfe so well assured in all things of his behauiour, as I doubted not thereupon to receiue him into place of greatest fidelity; I haue thought good hereby to let you vnderstand, what great pleasure I haue taken in his diligent attendance, assuring you, for many vnexpected qualities, which I haue proued to be in him, and that with so good affection as that I intend not omit any thing that may tend to his aduancement. In beholding of him often­times, methinkes he many waies doth resemble his father, whose sound truth I doe suppose might haue beene entertai­ned [Page 29] with the best for his well deseruing: this bearer shall in­forme you of two speciall causes concerning my affaires in the countrie, whom I doe pray you to conferre with, and to afford him your trauell for his present dispatch, which I will not fail: heartily to require vnto you. For your care had of my wants, and diligent supply of such a one, I doe many times thanke you, and haue promised in my selfe to become a debter vnto you. And euen so I bid you heartily farewell.

From the Court this 5. of May, 1628.

A merry Letter to his friend in London.

I Haue receiued your Epistle of alacritie and remaine much indebted to your kinde heart for vouchsafing vs poore countrie Swaines so much of the labour of your pen to deceiue slow-footed time withall: Thankes vnto the Almightie, I haue had my health indifferent well since my comming downe onely the separation of my second selfe hath beene a continuall sicknesse vnto me: to remedie which I haue hitherto found out no better way then to call for a cup of Rubicular, to helpe to exhilerate and corroborate my fatigated spirits. We Ruricolars are verie barren of anie noueltie worthie the presenting to your curious vnderstan­ding, but doe presume out of the bundle of your affection that you that liue at the wels head will be pleased to vouch­safe vs your poore friends a report by your Letters, at least of such Exchange newes as passeth currant amongst you, which wee shall take as a speciall fauour from you and stu­die how to remunerate We are at this present putting foot into the stirrop, and riding some dozen horse of vs to a ma­ritine coast, where there will be prouided for vs all the rari­ties [Page 30] for fish the Sea can afford, where I will not bee vn­mindfull to remember all your healths in a full ocean. In the meane time commending my loue to my louing sister your wife, with your worthie selfe and all our friends, I wish you all true happinesse sutable to a braue disposition, and will euer rest,

A Letter gratulatorie.

I Am yet to learne the phrase and method how to write to so beneficient a friend as your selfe, to whom I stand obliged more by desert then I can answer with requitall, and more in affection then I am able to merit: a predica­ment it is into which I am easilie and often (as it were) precipitated, and out of which to raise my selfe fortune only hath disabled me, who if with her gifts she had supplied my wants, and giuen me competent wealth to the freedome of my will my honest heart should not be debtor to the hand of any, nor should my disabilitie curbe the scope of my af­fection: but seeing wishes are but vaine, I pray you accept these my lines as tokens of the remuneration of my thanks and the acknowledgement of the loue of

A Letter to his silent friend.

YOu are happily innocent (dearest friend) what paine I am in, and with what vnrest I spend my irksome daies, through your parcimoniousnesse, and sparing of a little inke and paper: Is it not enough that I am depriued of your sight, but I must be also vnsaluted by your Letters, one of them alone doth too waightily oppresse me with sor­row, and ouerwhelme my heart with disquietnesse. As place hath wrought a separation betweene our bodies, will your permit also that a few daies absence shall burie each others remembrance in the Lethean waues of obliuion; oh be not so iniurious vnto sacred friendship, which is the greatest ioy allotted vnto mortall men in all the vniuerse: I haue got the start of you in writing, but I hope I shall not néed to send you anie more expostulatorie Letter for your slacknesse in this kind. For the sound state of my bo­die I am well, yet I cannot be said to be perfitly well, be­ing (as I am) so solicitous for your welfare, and so igno­rant of your health, who are animae dimidium meae.

The Answer, excusing his not writing.

LEt the multitude of my businesses and my want of bo­dily health, and debilitie, plead my excuse with you for my remissenesse in writing. The drift of these present lines is to apologize for that I writ to you no sooner, and to en­quire of your health and welfare. Compare not, nor doe not thinke my loue as little as my writing, for I protest vn­fainedly, that if I may stead you in any kind, or if my meanes can procure any thing to make a clearer manifestation of my [Page 32] manifold loue you shall assuredly find whensoeuer any oc­casion shall offer it selfe to you, to make triall what great in­terest you haue in me and my best affection, I cease, euer resting

A Letter expostulatory for breach of promise.

IT had béene more honestie in you to haue giuen mee a spéedie deniall, then not to perform what you so constant­lie promised me, for then you had not iniured mee, because you had not owed me any thing. Promise is debt: for I yet hope you are none of the number of those men who thinke promises doe not bind them vnto performance: this is my beleefe of you yet, it is in your power to make mee hold or alter my opinion. I onely desire thus much of you, if you will not doe me that good turne, yet leau [...]e doing me iniurie: feed mee not with improficient words, but bid mee not trust any longer to vaine hopes. In briefe, you shall much oblige me by doing that kindnesse, by omission there­of you shall make me muse at the lacke of your fidelitie, and at your carelessenesse to incurre the report and infamie of a dishonest man.

To his friend falne to pouerty.

IF your weath had béene the foundation of my loue, I shou [...]d now cease to loue, because you are no longer rich, [Page 33] but should I now so erre, I should shew my selfe to haue béene vnto you in your prosperitie not a friend, but (like vnto the rest that haue derelinquished you in your pouer­tie) a meere flatterer: wee sée how during the Summer time the Swallowes flocke to our houses, we may obserue how Mice will be sure to get into the barne that is reple­nished with corne and while the pot hath anie honie it is hard keeping the flies away: but rare is the friendshippe which fleets not in the probation time of aduersitie. Be­sides that poore comfort of aduersitie, pitie, I lend you the summe of twentie pound, which so long make vse of till Time, the mother of of mutations, encrease your store with a proportion able to make repaiment to

A Letter of a Gentlewoman to a Gentleman with whom she fell in loue.

IF euer I could wish my selfe vnborne (most worthie sir) or my well being taken from mee, I call truth and my sometimes modestie to witnesse, it is now: not that I haue found you, but that I am forced thus to seeke you. Call to mind (faire, and I hope vertuous Sir) some horrid and violent women, taken with the loue of their owne fathers, as was Micah; or incestuously pursuing their néerest bro­ther, as was Biblis: so my affection will appeare more mo­dest, and my suite more pardonable: I dearely loue you, (and in so saying me thinkes the gods blush to heare me,) who in the strictest lawes of desire are most worthie to bee loued, whose vertues might inflame a Nunne, and excel­lentest [Page 34] qualities take the most retired: If I haue (as I know too well I haue) contrarie to the nature and custome of Virgins, our-shot my selfe in my violent passions, par­don her that had rather die then make it knowne, yet chuseth rather to make it knowne, then not enioy you so desired, and farre more worthie to be desired. If you were acquainted what afflictions I suffer in my discouery, yet fearing all well not serue, you will, I hope, rather incline to pitie, then disdaine: little will the death of a silly may­den auaile the triumph of your beautie, and the ouerthrow of my credit lesse benefit your vertue. Raise me from the one by your loue, & assure me from the other by your secre­sie: whilst I will euer remaine a most constant votaresse to all your perfections, blessing the parents that left behind them such an issue.

His Answer.

HOw happie may I account my selfe (sweetest of crea­tures, and beautifillest of women) that hauing bound my selfe in the search and pursuite of a iewell, haue it now of­fered and giuen into my hands, farre aboue my expectation; farre transcending my hopes; I accept it as louingly, as you freely bestow it, and will account it no lesse deare and per­tious, then if much time and long labour had beene the pur­chase of it, esteeming it a blessing throwne vpon me, by the appointment of the highest, and sutable to my happy de­sires. Nor shall I need to load my memory with those hor­rid examples, to giue your loue a freer and welcomer pas­sage into the very depth of my loue and choisest desires: to loue we were made, and by loue we are made: they onely are without being that haue not the heauenly taste and en­ioying [Page 35] of it, I onely deny those excellencies which you lay to my vnguilty charge, it was the reflection of your owne worth (strucken from me) which hath Narcissus like so in­amoured you, it was your owne image showne in my eies, which hath thus captiuated you: which since you like in so dim and dull a myrrour, I will cherish, and make much of it onely for your sake, that you may the perfect lier see your selfe, and the more loue me: for your loue, take all I am; for my secresie, I will not breathe it to my selfe how I attaine this happinesse, but liuing and dying, rest the true honou­rer and admirer of your worth and vertue,

A Letter from a Chapman in the Country to a Tradesman in London.

MY louing and kind friend M. G. you haue done mée much wrong in detaining the wares I writ for: I haue disappointed some Gentlemen in relying vpon you, whose custome hath much aduantaged me: my credit I hope will euer be aboue that value: and my dealing for much more yearly betwéene vs might without other cir­cumstances therein haue satisfied you: I must tell you plaine, in the countrie there are many good men, whose estates are knowne very sufficient, which cannot raise money vpon their credit in an instant: we want a common banke with vs which might furnish vs suddenly and tho­rowly: Broakers trade not here, nor Vsurers take their place, but in Summer for their recreation: thinke, friend, me an honest man, and so you haue much cause to thinke: confident in which, though my estate were brittle, (as I [Page 36] thanke God) I know it is sure: you may be armed, I will neuer faile nor deceiue you. I roue not beyond my com­passe, neither make a sure foundation out of other mens ruines, but content with a little leauing a blessing to my children, and a good memorie amongst my neighbours. Let me heare from you concerning the cause of this breach, and a note of the reckoning betwéene vs, which I will make euen, and rather rest honest then rich.

The Answer.

MAster M. truly it much grieues me you were so disap­pointed, and the negligence of my man went not a­way vnpunished, by whose default the Carrier went with­out them: beleeue me on my word, and I account my selfe happier in being a master of that, then in much riches, no fear of payment, nor least doubt of your estate was any hindrance to it: I haue well knowne you by others, and haue had so much experience of you my selfe, that you shall sooner want occasion for wares, then I confidence to trust you: your neighbours speake much good of you, and all men that know you giue you a faire report, which makes me happie both in your custome and friendship. If sinister occasions shall any time happen (as while wee are here they are inci­dent vnto vs) I shall rather pittie your fortunes then call in question your faire dealings. And know we are all men ac­countable euery instant for all our possessions. The Cartier this weeke brings those commodities, and better and more vendable you neuer had of me; and I verily beleeue the Gentleman will thinke themselues happily repaid in the stay with the exceeding goodnesse and lastingnesse of the waies. [Page 37] For your reckonings at more leisure I will peruse and send them, in whose place receiue my kind commendations, and entre [...]ty for my mans carelesnesse, I bid you most heartily farewell.

A Letter of thankfulnes for kindnesse shewed to his Sonne.

SIr, the fauours you haue already done me are of such effect and merit, that I shall neuer be at quiet vntill I haue made some requitall of them I am ashamed you should be thus continually troubled with a sonne of mine, whom I haue charged to obey you in al things as my selfe, and I pray you doe so much as haue a carefull hand ouer him, as if you were his father, or hée your onely childe: I kindly and heartily th [...]nke you for the apparell you haue made him l [...]ely which is decent, comely, and profitable, and the monie you [...]aue paid for him: you may accommo­date him with the rest if you thinke it fitting: for my part I giue you all power and authoritie ouer him, seeing you are pleased to take the trouble vpon you. So wishing but to meet with some good occasion that may lie in my poore power, to acknowledge how much I am beholding vnto you, I for this time commit you to the protection of the Al­mighty. Resting

The Answer.

MAster B. I haue receiued your Letter concerning your son. Sir, for any fauour I can doe you, either in this or any other, I shall be right willing, knowing how much from time to time I and mine are bounden vnto you. And assure your selfe it shall be no trouble vnto me to vse the best of my counsell and care ouer him. For his apparell, it will keepe him warme, I know, which is the principall thing I ayme at, and I hope pleasing to him and his friends. The other money I shall deliuer him as I shall see good both for himselfe to vse, and the credit of you his father. Moreouer (Sir) he is to me very dutifull and louing, by which he shall lose nothing in my care of his welfare, and hee very well spends his time at Schoole, and to good purpose I hope; wherein I doubt not you shall haue great comfort. He be­houeth himselfe so well by his good demeanure to all, that he is generally beloued of all my neighbours. For my power and authority ouer him, I will imploy my selfe onely for his good, and your fatherly care committed to me. And so with a thousand commendations I commit you to God.

A Letter to his Mistresse in the Country that de­sired newes from the Citie.

MOst excellent mistris, your command (which is to me a law) binds me to obey you, and though the task be infinite hard to containe so great a beast in so little pa­per yet for your satisfaction, I will delineate to life the [Page 39] proportion of some of his members. It is newes you desire, & beléeue me (faire one) since I came into the Citie, I haue not seene or heard any thing old; euen from the Capitoll, to the Cottage, all things are in their new garments, the Court hath new fauourites, the Citie a new Senate, and the Common-wealth new officers: the first are as great as good, the second are as rich as wise, and the third as awe­full as iust: Men are new, for where they should loue they feare, women are new, for where they should honor they subdue, and children are new, for where they should reue­rence they astonish, Customes and manners are new, for the poore daily féed the rich, the rich cozen the great, and the great make fooles of the good ones. The fashions though they were neuer old, are now newer then euer, for in man and woman there is not a point to chuse betwixt the sexes, the one hath descended so much downward, and the other ascended so much vpward, that met in one circle they are both now trussed vp together without difference: Apparell that was made to couer, is now made to discouer folly and lewdnesse, and they are finest that are nearest to the naked Anatomie: Discourse is new, for wise men talke of their wealth, learned men of their deceit, and great men of vanitie, Old men like old Wolues boast of their preyes past, middle age like Lyons talke of that which is in their powers, and children like dogs barke of the reuenges which shall be: Our Citizens like Asses are proud of rich bur­thens, and like Apes, ioy in pyde trapping, and our gal­lants like Béere-brewers horses bragge how much drinke they can carrie. To conclude, all things are so new, that euen vertue her selfe is despised in old garments, and hée that kéepeth any phrase of his forefathers, is but a rude speaker, for to say Hic mulier, is now the purest and truest Latine. Thus (my deare Mistresse) you haue the newest Newes of the season, which I write rather to keepe you in your old way of vertue, then to lose your selfe in the folly of imitation, I know your goodnesse, and how true a re­warder [Page 40] it is of its owne merits, relie vpon it euer, it will make your end happy, and my life fortunate, that am the seruant of so great a perfection.

Her Answer.

YOu haue sent me (worthy seruant) my desire backe with so great an interest, that I stand two wayes fearfull how to receiue it, either to incurre the suspition of too greedy an inquiry, or the enuy of a weake nature, that is pleased with detraction: from both which I am free, in as much as my ayme is held within the leuell of modesty. I confesse, the parts you haue giuen mee may belong to a beast, or rathers Monster, for the shape hath little proportion: yet I haue heard of excellent Painters which haue made curious peeces of perspectiue, that beheld with a liberall eye on the plaine Table, hath appeared vgly and most deformed, but the sight straitned and drawne into a more seuere and narrow com­passe it hath beene beautifull, and in the glory of the best perfection: such, I feare, was the picture from whom you tooke your copie, and looking vpon it the wrong way, you saw the lines, but not the beautie. I doe confesse, the world is olde, yet not so olde but it may continue to weare out ma­ny new garments. Age makes it subiect to sicknesse and infir­mitie, and what better defence then warme and sound cloa­thing? Sicknesse brings corruption, and ill sauours, what better preuention then much shift and many new things? so that I conclude, these nouelties which you dislike are but to cure something in the world that is vnwholesome. Againe, I haue seene an Italian Comely, consisting of a louer, a wo­man, a zany or foole, and a deuill; and to it I may fashion the world, for that the stage, the people the actors, each degree haue their zanie and their deuill; Now if the zany will steale his masters apparell, and make betweene vice and vertue no [Page 41] difference, blame not the discretion of the master, if it de­uise new fashions, till either the foolish zany be tyred, or the deuill for his pride fetch him away, and conclude the enter­lude. This (my best seruant) you may apply at your plea­sure, for mine innocence hath taught me that charitie, not to accuse any of that crime I would not my selfe be guiltie; nor is my defence an argument to draw on your silence, but ra­ther a motiue to make you more liberall, in bestowing on me the rest of your collections; in which doubt not my con­stancy, since no inchantments can make mee forget to pre­serue my selfe euer worthy to be your Mistris.

A wooing and comfortable letter to a noble widow that had newly lost her husdand.

THough (my noble Widow) I am the last that send you comfort, yet was I the first that felt your anguish, and will be the readrest of all men to serue you in your trouble: you haue lost a dearly desired husband, and sound an infinit way to griefe, the one is the act of Fate, and cannot be pre­uented, the other is the worke of Nature, and by wisdome must be corrected: Remember (faire Widow) who is gone (a good man) to whom he is gone (to a good God,) and from whom (from a wicked World, and worse people) and you shall find more cause to praise heauen for his happines then to murmure for your losse of comfort; a good man dies to liue, theres your ioy, an ill man liues to die, theres true anguish: the ioyes of mariage should bee writ in Table-bookes, not vpon paper, that Widowes might blot and rubbe out the writing, for they ought not to remember the delights past, but to meditate on pleasures to come, not to marrie for eternity, but during the will of heauen, neither [Page 42] haue you lost any thing, for hée was but a treasure lent you, and to grieue at the repayment were to wrong your goodnesse with ingratitude. Beleeue mée Madam, were your cure in my hands, as your griefe is at my heart, nei­ther should your anguish hurt you, nor the memory of your losse suruiue a moment, but it is in heauen, and your wise­dome, couple them together by yeelding to prouidence, and you shall sée your comforts flow vpon you in a new tyde, you haue reputed mée your friend, and shap'd your best acti­ons by my counsels, you were neuer more weake then now because alone, nor did you euer stand in more néed, because many assaults are prepared against you, to kéepe you then in perfect safetie, please you make mée of a tryed friend, a true husband, of a faithfull counseller, a profitabe Ruler, and of an able helpe a deuout seruant, I doubt not but you shall finde that armor aganst all necessities. which shall both guard you against iniuries, and bring you much honour, my character you know best, for I am no stranger, and my zeale you may iudge by my former seruices, if they appeare faultlesse before you, there will bée no let but cere­monie, which to countenance against vertue, were to bee guiltie of soule superstition: you are wise, and that wise­dome I make my aduocate, if he approue me worthy to be yours, my faith shall make me your truest seruant among the liuing.

Her Answer.

SIr, had the comforts you sent me comne in a true wed­ding garment, pure and of one intire stuffe: I could not haue chosen but receiued it as the rest of your chaste coun­sels, and feasted on it with my daily meditation, but being so disorderly patcht, I can neither beleeue it is yours, nor affect that which is so vncomely, you haue sent me delicate gilt [Page 43] pills, where though the gold be more then the poison, yet is this poison enough to confound; therefore as much as with safetie I may retaine (for your ancient friendshippe) I will keepe and studie, the rest pardon me to returne you, not out of malice to your wish, but griefe at your folly, you haue told me so well the excellency of my losse, that it were madnesse in me to runne into a second hazard, and how euer you would take from widowes, the blisse of remembrance, yet deare Sir know that I can neuer forget this maxime, that the death of a good husband ought not to take away the loue of a chaste wife. To conclude, what you desire is not in my pow­er to grant, for all my loue I haue sent with him to the graue, whom I haue lost, & to hold me without that portion, were to grasp a cloud that would bring froth a Centaure; yet from thence should either Fate, or my follies deliuer it, I could not finde any more worthy then your selfe to keepe it; but the first is too constant, and the latter I hope shall neuer so farre rule in me: Therefore being as you were a chast coun­seller, and no seducer, you shall finde mee as you haue done a faithfull Cabinet full of your goodnesse.

Another to the same purpose.

THe neuer-ceasing streame of your gratious kindnes­ses, hath by the often thinking on their due deseruings profoundly imbosomed themselues in my gratefull affecti­on, which no course of tedious time can extenuate, nor the longest absence by distance haue power to diminish But oh most kinde meriter of all respect, whose good will I esti­mate as my greatest enrichment, although the condigne requitall of such your rare courtesies lye not in the compasse [Page 44] and precinct of my poore power, whose tenuity is not able to pay such and exceeding tribute: yet how willing my mind is, and how inextinguishable my desires, this illiterate E­pistle will testifie, which deuoid of elegancies, yet full fraught with the vnfeigned profession of my loue promi­seth the imployment of my vttermost powers in all seruice­able endeauors, if all that I can doe may but defray one mi [...]e of your inualuable courtesies Command my seruice, there is not any thing so great that I will shrinke, or so small that [...] will disdaine to effectuate for your sake, ha­uing vowed to dye before any word issuing from your lips shall come in vaine.

But least I should detract too much time from your more serious affaires, in all humility I take my leaue.

Her Answer.

THough I am far from vanity to esteeme my selfe wor­they of the style of beauty, yet I see not how to excuse your sinister opinion, that would thereto annexe so great an inconuenience: for it seemes (if things might be ordered by your mind) you would haue beauty and loue to be insepara­ble companions: oh grosse! oh absurd wish, and most exe­crable position against beauty and loue! Then any vitious, deformed or beggerly creature, being but conducted by good fortune to the view of some rare Virgin, this vnwor­thinesse must not onely be entertained, but hee that rather deseru [...]d to be hissed away with disdaine, must straight bee made the owner and Lord of her loue: Nor shall it be in her power to giue a repulse to the presumption of ind [...]g [...]e [...]u [...]ers, or to make [...]ee election of a deseruing personage, to honour him with her gracious fauour.

But I hope sir, being thus clearly conuinced, you will confesse and make recantation of your error, I rest as I haue reason.

A Letter of discontent after the falling out of Louers.

IT is the custome of Louers after the breach of their league and amitie, to send backe those gratuities which formerly passed as tokens of their naturall affections: you haue taken vp the fashion, and beléeue mee I abhorre any longer to haue nearnesse with one of your qualification, who for méere trifles can dissolue the knot of friendship, and shake hands with familiarity. For know that your me­morie which was sometime deare in my thoughts, is now abhorred, seeing that the firmnesse and stability of affection (then which there is nothing ought by men more religiously to be obserued) you haue so causelesly brought to annihila­tion. I may parallel my present condition to the state of the Sunne when pitchy clouds which enuironing him round about, séeme to extinguish his splendor, but time the perfecter of all terrestriall things, may in due season im­part a luster correspondent to my hopes, and sutable to my disposition: till when I will scorne the blasts of aduersity, and dead all those who hauing little or no merits, are en­dowed by the dispensation of the owly-eyd goddesse For­tune with large possessions: howsoeuer if I can find no bet­ter to conuerse and spend my time withall then your selfe, I will turne Momus and for euer hate the society of men: but hauing a better opinion of the generality, for your part I cashiere you with this Vltimum vale, and rest,

To his angry Mistris.

AS the declining of the Sunne brings a generall dark­nesse and discomfort, so the deficiencie and absence of your shining and glorious fauours hath ouercouered mee with clouds of care. But as the Suns heauenly essence by the course of Nature is daily reuiued, so here I humbly sue that your wonted gracious aspect may returne in your countenance, to solace the dolefull heart of your seruant with vicissitude of long intermitted alacrity, it will re­dound to your great commendation, when the world shall vnderstand that your heart is of waxe, not inexorable and of a flinty and adamantine constitution, hoping that you will be as ready compassionatly to grant as I doe submis­siuely implore the renouation of your loue, I rest,

A Letter from an At prentice in London, to his father in the Country.

MY humble dutie remembred good father vnto you and my mother. Hauing the opportunitie of this bearer, I thought good to certifie you of my present being, giuing you to vnderstand that I am, I thanke God, and you, in good health, and very well placed here in London, where I am in hope to continue my here being to some pro­fitable and good purpose: My Master vseth me in good sort, and I want nothing that appertained to such a one as my selfe. I trust you shall haue ioy of me, and ere a few yeares passe, I doubt not but so to be haue my selfe that I shall well [Page 47] deserue this good liking that already I haue of my master, and further credit at his hands and employment about his businesse I hope you and my mother; and all our friends in the countrie are in good health. I pray you that you will write vnto my master as occasion serueth, and thanke him for his good vsage: and if you can to remember him with some good conuenient token from the countrie. Thus desi­ring your daily blessings, and with a recommendation of my humble dutie vnto you both, I take my leaue:

A Letter from a husband to his wife.

GOod wife, considering my hastie departure from you, and my children, my hope is that you will haue that louing and respectiue care towards them and your family that appertaineth. I haue left manie things raw by reason of the suddennesse of my iourney, which standeth vpon your good regard to be ordered, as namely the charge of my ser­uants, and the disposition of some other affaires and busi­nesses. You shall now shew your selfe a discréet and care­full wife, if in my absence you will take vpon you to bée in my place. Regard and consider with your selfe, that ser­uants are negligent and carelesse, and if the master forget his owne profit, they are as readie as others to share with his gaines Your painfull attendance to oure-looke them, shall straine their labours to my vsing, your desire to see to them, shall worke their vsing to my well deseruing. You must now a little forget neighbourhood, and walking for companie, considering the old prouerbe, that when the Cat [Page 48] is a way, the Mouse will goe play: If Master and Dame haue both continued absence, seruants fall a wasting, and doe what they list. You know good wife, I haue now ta­ken a great charge of late vpon me, which with some care­full lookeing to may turne to good. Let it not be greuous vnto you, nor thinke it hard that I thus make you parta­ker of my charge, as I doe of my profit, for we are yoake­fellowes you know, and the charge is equall betwixt vs both to be borne and supported. If as louing mates and fellowes we draw forth together, we shall by Gods blessed goodnesse see the fruits of our labours: our children shall participate with vs of our trauells, and God shall prosper our endeauors. And howbeit good wife I haue euer found you such, as of whose care of my well doing I néede haue no doubt, yet if by the importance of my charge I be driuen to write thus much vnto you, thinke that in greate trust of your modestie, respect of your loue, and zeale to both our goods I haue done the same. And though no distrust re­maine of any one about mée, yet doe I put you in mind what youth by too much sufferance and giuing of libertie may be inclined to. This is all I would, and so much I hope as you gladly will yeeld vnto. Commend mee many times vnto yourselfe. Kisse my little ones, and remember me, and commend my loue to all our friends

Her Answer.

GOod husband, I am glad you haue at last remembred your selfe by this bearer to write vnto mee, that haue thought it very long vntill I heard from you. I doe greatly reioyce at the good and prosperous successe, of your iourney, [Page 49] and chiefly, that you haue endured your trauell so well, be­ing in so good plight and streng [...]h of body, as I vnderstand you are by your Letter. Wee are much beholden vnto our good friends in the country that haue giuen you so great and good entertainment: and I pray you heartily commend me vnto them. Your businesse here goeth very well, and your seruants both dutifull and diligent about their affaires, and we haue no want but your presence, which if you would ha­sten hitherward, it were a comfort vnto vs all to see you, ha­uing beene as to me it seemeth, very long absent. But Master Prince, and his friends where you are, vseth you so kindly, that I thinke you cannot well tell how to winde your selfe out from your good company. Yet good husband remember that at last you must come home, and the sooner the better. I referre all to your good discretion: and so commend mee most heartily vnto you.

A Letter from one kinsman to another in London or any other place.

MY good Cousin, I am glad to heare of your good pre­ferment in London, and that as I heare by your fa­ther and mother, you are so well placed there, and with so good a Master. It is no little comfort to mée to vnderstand that you doe so resolutely and with so good a minde dispose your selfe to your businesse, which I gladly wish you would continue. You must now remember, that your friends with great care, charge, and industrie haue brought you vp, and that their intent and meaning therein was, that in expec­tation thereof they should haue ioy and comfort of you in [Page 50] your elder yeares: for which as you haue now bequeathed your selfe to this place of seruice, so must you for any feare of hard vsage, bitternes of speech, or other mislike of taunts or rebukes, make a account to endure and continue. It may be, being yet vnacquainted with the customes and vsage of London, you doe now thinke well of that which hereaf­ter may turne to discontentment. But good cozen so be it, you haue no want of things néedfull and necessarie, frame your selfe to forbeare all those crosse matters whatsoeuer, and giue your selfe wholly on Gods name, to the benefit of your seruice, you shall therein want no helpe, furthe­rance or incouragement on my part, and if you performe it well and honestly, you shall not want when time serueth for an hundred pounds or two, if in the meane space I may sée your good care of your masters businesse, and please your mistris, for therein you shall the better please your master. Your friends are all well, who reioycing in that alreadie they sée you so well behaued, doe daily pray to God to pro­sper and blesse you: and thus with my heartie commen­dations I bid you farewell.

A Letter to request the borrowing of an hundred pounds.

SIr, I am bold in my great necessitie, vnder assurance of your forwardnesse to doe mée good, to intreat your speciall aide and furtherance in two [...]hings, the one where­of is to lend me of your wonted fauour one hundred pounds, the other this bearer shall instruct you in, both which con­sist in your kinde and friendly care of my well doing, I am of opinion none other then your selfe can fit the occasion, [Page 51] better. And truly such is the force of imprisonment, as con­trarie to that you haue wontedly knowne in me, my vn­derstanding is quite decayed, and sore worne with want of libertie, and where the spirits are so distuned, it must néeds follow, the memorie must néeds sound nothing but discord. In fine, Sir, it is in you to doe mée good, and to make me by this onely action for euer beholden vnto you, wherein if I may so far forth presume of your fidelitie as­sure your selfe if euer God giue me libertie, to none so much as you shall I be yoked in courtesie Good master [...]. A. the matter hereof requireth some haste, whereto I must hear­tily intreat you faile me not.

The Answer.

GOod Master I. S. needlesse it were you should intreat me in that wherein you haue found me most willing, and such whom with small perswasion you may induce to a farre greater purpose then what in you last letter is requi­red; the messenger I haue appointed to returne againe to my chamber to morrow morning, at which time I will not faile to send you your desired summe: for the other, hard will it be for me to accomplish that wherein your selfe seeme so vnperfect, for that the dullest conceit forged from the most distempered of your imaginations, cannot but sound far better tunes then the ripest of my inuentions any way are able to deliuer. Neuerthelesse such as it is, or (by dislike of your owne) you haue will to account of, that will I pre­pare to your view, and put forward to your good speed, thinking it better by the deliuery of a grosse deuice to satis­fie the demand of a friend, then by the concealing the sim­plicity thereof, to be consured vncourteous. In conclusion, [Page 52] it is lawfull for you to vse me to the vttermost, and fittest to your conformed league of amitie, that (in whatsoeuer) you should imploy me, wherein I desire you conceiue no more then such as I intend to become, and you shall assuredly finde me,

A Letter to his friend for breach of promise.

MAster Iackson, I haue abstained hitherto to come or send vnto you, partly being wearied with importu­nitie, for that I thought, now two moneths being passed, I might in this space haue found a time conuenient where­in to haue ended with you. Hauing taken this cause in hand, I would (as in good reason I thought it fit) you should determine with me vpon some conclusions whereon to rest assured, I might thenceforth know where to trust, and neither waste labour in comming to so small purpose, nor hinder my certaine businesse by the vnsteadie stay of your affaires, as alreadie I haue done. Wée haue talked many times, and set downe certaine limits, but to slender effect, as I neither know when to demand, nor you how to satisfie. So that depending vpon shadowes, I haue passed my time to samll benefit, and you haue gone forward to little purpose. I doe pray you therefore that such meaning may assure vs, as alreadie betwéene vs hath beene perfor­med. To delay me thus with nifles, as I thinke is farre from a Gentleman, so doe I suppose you not intend it, con­sidering how many waies thereby I am and shall bée hin­dred. This therefore may be the certaine meanes to satis­fie vs both, that you will (as on Friday last you promised) come and see the agréement betwéene vs performed, where­of [Page 35] so I pray you aduertise your full resolution by this bearer. And so I bid you heartily farewell.

The Answer.

GOod master W. M. my breach of promise in not ha­uing visited you with deserued requitall sithence my departure, may breed suspition and doubt of vnthankfulnes, but I hope, and by hope presume, that of your owne good disposition towards all your acquaintance, you will yeeld vnto an approued tryall before you condemne. For my part, if I should not owe vnto you all honest minde and fide­lity, I should much contrary your great courtesie, and deser­uedly incurre the shame of ingratitude. You know that ha­uing strayed as I haue done out of the limits of a controuled rule, and displeased so much thereby, as my case hath be­wrayed vnto you, those whom by nature and duty I ought to be awed vnto, It is reason that by a more district obser­uance I make amends for the residue. The day appointed I will not faile to meet to view the writings, and to make some conclusion to your best satisfaction. Wherein you shall perceiue the honest minde of a Gentleman. My father it seemeth, though not yet by me, hath otherwise vnderstood how much I stand yoaked (in all friendly league of amity) vnto you, and thinketh himselfe for all his sons vnthrifti­nesse somewhat therin to be tyed vnto you. His meaning is, one of these dayes to intreat your paines hitherward. But howeuer deserts be noted, or care by nature doth binde, as­sure your selfe, whilest life leadeth a long this earthly coarse, I am and will be also yours most vnfainedly and in most in­tirely. [Page 54] To whom and to your good bedfellow, I most heartily and often commend me:

To his friend a Mercer.

DEare sir, many salutations, &c. As my occasions fall out I still presume to trouble you, grounding my bold­nesse vpon the hope of your loue and good will, I request you to send me as much black Sattin as will make me a sute. I am your debtor alreadie, besides in good will and loue, a small summe, which for that it hath beene long de­tained, you may coniecture it to bée desperate: yet on my credit it is as sure as any money in your purse: My intent being honest, but my store not such as at this time I can sa­tisfie: next Terme I expect the plenty of my purse will be so profuse, that God permitting without faile for these and the old debt you shall be fully discharged. Acknowledging my selfe beholding, I rest

A Letter to an vnfaithfull friend.

SIr, I haue euer béene so loth to thinke ill of you, that I scarce allow mine owne witnesse against you, or those strong presumptions that make mée thinke you meane to kéepe no promises nor no friends: If you will needs haue it so, let our acquaintance now grow sickly, and die priuate­ly, lest I be blamed for trusting, and you for deceiuing so great a trust. For since our loue is grown into so desperate a [Page 55] Lethargie, I will not wake it, for I had rather it should passe away in a trance, and the remembrance thereof ne­uer hereafter to be mentioned. What your friendship was I cannot tell, but I am assured to the view it was fit for greater courtesies then I required: what mine owne was iudge when you haue most néed of a friend. Neither will I tell you what a sea of misfortune your breach of promises hath let in vpon mée: but Ile bid you now and euer fare­well, and with my letter conclude all rites of loue betwixt you and me, and rest

A Letter for admittance into seruice.

HOnourable sir: I haue euer béene so addicted to fol­low you, that in mine owne opinion I am an old re­tainer of yours: so I am within a degrée of a houshold seruant, which is all the promotion that by the intercession of this Letter I striue to come to. But I sée so many steps directed that way, that I may perhaps come too late, yet I hope your number is not full, though it be great, and I supposse all are not inuited that goe: but some intrude. I will take it for extreame bounty to bée admitted within your gates: what I doe is prest by no necessity, but to saue my longing, and to satisfie my desires, which a far off haue euer serued you Once I thought to haue moued this suit by friends, but that way I was afraid it might miscary: and I was not verie willing it should succeed, being loth to intangle my selfe in obligations, to other men, when I was to passe my selfe ouer vnto you, so I thought best to write, for to speake had béene too bold. So in hope at the least of a pardon, I rest as far as in me lies,

To his loue vpon a long and fruitlesse affection.

IT is the propertie of none but of a faint-hearted souldier for receiuing a repulse or two to retire from assault, and to giue ouer his enterprise: when euerie one ought to vse constant perseuerance, that he may worke the accomplish­ment of his desires. The long vnsuccessiuenesse of my suit hath not made me wearie of your seruice, though since I first fell in loue with you (O might the examples incite you no longer to retard your affection) the Sun hath gone about the world, and giuen a new life to all things which the tempestuous winter had left forlorne: the ioyfull Mer­chant hath made a rich returne, and the laborious husband­man hath cramm'd his barnes with the plenteous crop of the euer fruitfull earth: Euerie one hath his hope, onely my selfe more vnfortunate then all the rest, in this reuolu­tion of time haue not had any successe. I am you sée péere­lesse in misfortune: it rests in you with the sympathie of af­fection to make me péerelesse in felicity, of which I will ne­uer despaire, there being no heart that is more infinitely affected toward you then the heart of

To his sweet heart in the Country.

THough in London where I now am many singular beauties are daily obuious to my sight, yet I beséech you not to charge me vnfained lines with flatterie, if in the iust collaudation of your owne vnparalleld pulchritude I prefer your vnmatchable forme before the ratest of their composures: Their formosities come as far short of yours [Page 57] as the splendor of the twinkling Stars comes short of the all-enlightning radiance of the Sun beames, and they all are as far your inferiors in the rauishing gifts of Nature, as the vilipended pibble is inferior to the worth of the most high prized Carbuncle. To which outward endowments when I reuolue in my mind (and no houre passeth without commemoration of your perfections) how swéetly you haue vnited all internall graces, then am I distracted with griefe for my absence, and though my vnrestrained mind be inse­parably with you, yet I curse the distance of place which depriues me of all comfort, because it disioynes mée from your presence, which till I enioy, all ioy is banished out of my brest, and I haue giuen griefe a frée dominion in me, I cannot say I rest, but I remaine,

A young mans Letter to his enamoured mistris.

IF you were not absolute, I would not be thus resolute: onely to loue you whom I hold onely worthie louing: your beautie tels mine eye, and your kindnesse perswades my heart of your goodnesse; for, if you were proud, I should disdaine you, and if you were not faire I would not affect you: now, if you know the one true in your selfe, beléeue the other in me, and wrong not your selfe, in not doing mée right: Modestie and vicenesse are two, and delayes are the hindrances of happinesse: to vrge your patience with importunitie I will not, and yet to giue ouer my suit I cannot: and therefore knowing your iudgement sufficient to vnderstand your owne good, I hope to finde your disposi­tion not inclinde to hurt him, who remaineth,

Her kinde answer.

MY worthy friend, how long I haue loued you, was from the first instant that I beheld you: how much I doe loue you, I would I could tell you: how dearly I will loue you, my best endeauors shall truly make knowne vnto you: and if vnder heauen I may find such happinesse on the earth as to be regarded in your fauour, I will thinke it idle that figures earthly felicity: for your excellence, being almost without exception, let my loue be without comparison: and if truth may haue beliefe, let my affection be without suspi­tion: and as you haue won my heart with your eyes, make it happy with your hands: so hoping that so sweet an aspect can haue no sowrenesse in spirit, in the hope of your kinde answer, I rest

A Letter of Request.

KInde friend: I would entreat a kindnesse, but for feare of a deniall, not out of mine owne deserts, but rather your disposition, which I doubt is too neare the nature of the world, rather to grant then to gratifie: excuses are more trials of wit then truth, and a faithfull heart hath no stop in loue, and therefore, that I may not haue cause to wrong my selfe in my assured confidence of your worth doe right to your selfe in the good of that performance, that, without parenthesis may conclude in a full point of kindnesse. The substance of my suit I haue sent you by word of mouth, be­cause my hand-writing shall not witnesse my vnhappinesse if my hope should faile the expectation of my affection, in which without greater care of the contrarie, I rest,

A Letter of discontent, vpon deniall of a Request.

I Thanke you for nothing more then that I haue nothing to thanke you for, wherein you rather considered what I am, then your selfe should be: pardon my folly, in presu­ming aboue knowledge, and beleeue mée no more if I fall into the like error of opinion: you willed mée to make ac­count of your vttermost power, in my good: It may bée it was in wishes, which are easily requited, but when they are void of effects, they are but troubles to reason: I can­not spell without letters, nor vnderstand words without substance, therefore loath to be tedious, when I haue vn­willingly béene troublesome, I pray you let complements be without cost, so shall kindnesse continue, in that conditi­on of iudgement that shall make me alwaies readie to re­quite your deniall of my request as I finde cause,

To a Court Lady.

IF Loue could dissemble, patience could haue no passion, but truth is so tyed to affection, that as a sound limbe it cannot halt. If you aske the reason of my affection, looke into the excellencie of your owne worth, and then if there be any extreame, take it in the best part, which groweth from your selfe: for such is my iudgement of your deser­uing, as can be answered in nothing but in admiring: for surely, hée must be either verie dim sighted that doth not preferre your beautie to all shadowes, or dull witted, that vnderstands not the honour of your worthinesse. O [...] me leaue then, out of the sight of my best sense, and sense of my [Page 60] best sight, to deuote my seruice to your command, that may giue a happinesse in your employment: and while idle Complements are but Court fashions, let plaine truth haue such acceptance in your fauour, that suspition may not wrong a true affection: in which I vow euer to rest,

Her complementall answer.

VVHat words shall I vse to win your affection, hold­ing vnder heauen my happines but in your loue: if [...] would please you in your affaires, I would neuer rest [...] in your fauour: if gifts might be graciously accepted, I would giue you my selfe for your loue: if pitty might moue you, I would lay before you my passion: and if my death might onely answer your desire, I would not liue to despaire of your comfort: but loue being a spirit of that nature, that onely is pleased in being himselfe, I will leaue all my hopes to that happy houre, wherein he may in your eies, cast those blessed beames of fauour, vpon the faith of my heart, that may make me in the infringible bond of deuoted seruice to the last period of my life