I. A Defence of Womens Inconstancy.

THat Women are In­constant, I with any man confesse, but that Inconstancy is a bad quality, I against any man will maintaine: For every thing as it is one better than a­nother, so is it fuller of change; The Hea­vens themselves continually turne, the Starres move, the Moone changeth; Fire whirleth, Ayre flyeth, Water ebbs and flowes, the face of the Earth altereth her lookes, time stayes not; the Colour that is most light, will take most dyes: [Page 2] so in Men, they that have the most reason are the most inalterable in their designes, and the darkest or most ignorant, do seldomest change; therefore Women changing more than Men, have also mor [...] Reason. They cannot be immu­table like stockes, like stones, like the Earths dull Center, Gold that lyeth still, rusteth; Water, corrupteth; Aire that moveth not, poysoneth; then why should that which is the perfection of other [...]hings, be imputed to Wo­men as greatest imperfection? Because thereby they deceive men. Are not your wits pleased with those jests, which coozen your expectati­on? You can call it Pleasure to be beguil'd in troubles, and in the most excellent toy in the world, you call it Treachery: I would you had your Mistresses so constant, that they would ne­ver change, no not so much as their smocks, then should you see what sluttish vertue, Constancy were. Inconstancy is a most commendable and cleanely quality, and Women in this quality are farre more absolute than the Heavens, than the Starres, Moone, or any thing beneath it; for long observation hath pickt certainety out of their mutability. The Learned are so well acquainted with the Starres, Signes and Pla­ [...]ets, that they make them but Characters, to reade the meaning of the Heaven in his owne forehead. Every simple Fellow can bespeake the change of the Moone a great while before­hand: but I would faine have the learnedst [Page 3] man so skilfull, as to tell when the simplest Woman meaneth to varie. Learning affords no rules to know, much lesse knowledge to rule the minde of a Woman: For as Philosophy tea­cheth us, that Light things doe alwayes tend up­wards, and heavy things decline downeward; Ex­perience teacheth us otherwise, that the dis­position of a Light Woman, is to fall downe, the nature of Women being contrary to all Art and Nature. Women are like Flies, which feed among us at our Table, or Fleas sucking our very blood, who leave not our most retired places free from their familiarity, yet for all their fellowship will they never bee tamed nor commanded by us. Women are like the Sunne, which is violently carryed one way, yet hath a proper course contrary: so though they, by [...]he mastery of some over-ruling chu [...]lish Hus­bands, are forced to his Byas, yet have they a motion of their owne, which their Husbands never know of. It is the nature of nice and fa­stidious mindes to know things onely to bee weary of them: Women by their flye change­ablenesse, and pleasing doublenesse, prevent e­ven the mislike of those, for they can never be so well knowne, but that there is still more un­knowne. Every Woman is a Science; for hee that plods upon a Woman all his life long, shall at length find himselfe short of the know­ledge of her: they are borne to take downe the pride of wit, and ambition of wisedome, ma­king [Page 4] fooles wise in the adventuring to winne them, wisemen fooles in conceit of losing their labours; witty men starke mad, being con­founded with their uncertaineties. Philosophers write against them for spight, not desert, that having attained to some knowledge in all o­ther things, in them onely they know nothing, but are meerely ignorant: Active and Experi­enced men raile agai [...]st them, because they love in their livelesse and decrepit age, when all goodnesse leaves them. These envious Li­bellers ballad against them, because having no­thing in themselves able to deserve their love, they maliciously discommend all they cannnot obtaine, thinking to make men beleeve they know much, because they are able to dispraise much, and rage against Inconstancy, when they were never admitted into so much favour as to be forsaken. In mine Opinion such men are happy that Women are Inconstant, for so may they chance to bee beloved of some excellent Women (when it comes to their turne) out of their Inconstancy and mutability, though not out of their owne desert. And what reason is there to clog any Woman with one Man, bee hee never so singular? Women had rather, and it is farre better and more Iudiciall to en­joy all the vertues in severall Men, than but some of them in one, for otherwise they lose their taste, like divers sorts of meat minced to­gether in one dish: and to have all excellen­cies [Page 5] in one Man (if it were possible) is Confusion and Diversity. Now who can deny, but such as are obstinately bent to undervalue their worth, are those that have not soule enough to com­prehend their excellency, Women being the most excellentest Creatures, in that Man is a­ble to subject all things else, and to grow wise in every thing, but still persists a foole in Wo­man? The greatest Scholler, if hee once take a Wife, is found so unlearned, that he must be­gin his Horne-booke, and all is by Inconstancy. To conclude therefore; this name of Inconstancy, which hath so much beene poysoned with slaunders, ought to bee changed into variety, for the which the world is so delightfull, and a Woman for that the most delightfull thing in this World.

II. That Women ought to paint.

FOulenesse is Lothsome: can that be so which helpes it? who for­bids his Beloved to gird in her waste? to mend by shooing her uneven lamenesse? to burnish her teeh? or to perfume her breath? yet that [Page 6] the Face bee more precisely regarded, it con­cernes more: For as open confessing sinners are alwaies punished, but the wary and con­cealing offenders without witnesse doe it also without punishment; so the secret parts needs the lesse respect; but of the Face, discovered to all Examinations and survayes, there is not too nice a Iealousie. Nor doth it onely draw the busie eyes, but it is subject to the divinest touch of all, to kissing, the strange and mysti­call union of soules. If shee should prosti­tute her selfe to a more unworthy Man than thy selfe, how earnestly and justly wouldst thou exclaime? that for want of this easier and ready way of repairing, to betray her bo­dy to ruine and deformity (the tyrannous Ra­vishers, and sodaine D [...]flourers of all Women) what a heynous Adultery is it? What thou lovest in her face is colour, and painting gives that, but thou hatest it, not because it is, but because thou knowest it. Foole, whom igno­rance makes happy, the Starres, the Sunne, the Skye whom thou admirest, alas, have no colour, but are faire, because they seeme to bee coloured: If this seeming will not satisfie thee in her, thou hast good assurance of her colour, when thou seest her lay it on. If her face bee painted on a Boord or Wall, thou wilt love it, and the Boord, and the Wall: Canst thou loath it then when it speakes, smiles, and kisses, because it is painted? Are [Page 7] wee not more delighted with seeing Birds, Fruites, and Beasts painted then wee are with Naturalls? And doe wee not with pleasure behold the painted shape of Monsters and Divels, whom true, wee durst not regard? Wee repaire the ruines of our houses, but first cold tempests warnes us of it, and bytes us through it; wee mend the wracke and staines of our Apparell, but first our eyes, and other bodies are offended; but by this provi­dence of Women, this is prevented. If in kissing or breathing upon her, the painting fall off, thou art angry, wilt thou be so, if it sticke on? Thou didst love her, if thou beginnest to hate her, then 'tis because shee is not painted. If thou wilt say now, thou didst hate her be­fore, thou didst hate her and love her together, bee constant in something, and love her who shewes her great love to thee, in taking this paines to seeme lovely to thee.

III. That by Discord things increase.

SO I assevere this the more boldly, because while I maintaine it, and feele the Contrary repugnancies and adverse fightings of the Elements in my Body, my Body increaseth; and whilst I differ from common opinions by this Discord, the number of my Paradoxes in­creaseth. All the rich benefits we can frame to our selves in Concord, is but an Even conservati­on of things; in which Evennesse wee can ex­pect no change, no motion; therefore no increase or augmentation, which is a member of motion. And if this unity and peace can give increase to things, how mightily is discord and war to that purpose, which are indeed the onely ordinary Parents of peace. Discord is never so barren that [Page 9] it affords no fruit; for the fall of one estate is at the worst the increaser of another, because it is as impossible to finde a discommodity without advantage, as to finde Corruption without Gene­ration: But it is the Nature and Office of Con­cord to preserve onely, which property when it leaves, it differs from it selfe, which is the grea­test discord of all. All Victories and Emperies gained by warre, and all Iudiciall decidings of doubts in peace, I doe claime children of Dis­cord. And who can deny but Controversies in Re­ligion are growne greater by discord, and not the Controversie, but Religion it selfe: For in a trou­bled misery Men are alwaies more Religious then in a secure peace. The number of good men, the onely charitable nourishers of Concord, wee see is thinne, and daily melts and waines; but of bad discording it is infinite, and growes hourely. Wee are ascertained of all Disputable doubts, onely by arguing and differing in Opinion, and if formall disputation (which is but a painted, counterfeit, and dissembled discord) can worke us this benefit, what shall not a full and maine discord accomplish? Truely me thinkes I owe a devotion, yea a sacrifice to discord, for casting that Ball upon Ida, and for all that businesse of Troy, whom ruin'd I admire more then Babylon, Rome, or Quinzay, removed Corners, not onely fulfilled with her fame, but with Cities and Thrones planted by her Fugitives. Lastly, be­tween Cowardice and despaire, Valour is gendred; [Page 10] and so the Discord of Extreames begets all ver­tues, but of the like things there is no issue with­out a miracle:

Hee wonders that betweene two so like, there could be any discord, yet perchance for all this discord there was nere the lesse increase.

IV. That good is more common then evill.

I Have not been so pittifully tired with any vanity, as with silly Old Mens exclaiming against these times, and extolling their owne: Alas! they betray themselves, for if the times be changed, their manners have changed them. But their senses are to pleasures, as sick Mens tastes are to Liquors; for indeed no new thing is done in the world, all things are what, and as they were, and Good is as ever it was, more plenteous, a [...]d must of ne­cessity be more common then evill, because it hath this for nature and perfection to bee common. It [Page 11] makes Love to all Natures, all, all affect it. So that in the Worlds early Infancy, there was a time when nothing was evill, but if this World shall suffer dotage in the extreamest crookednesse there­of, there shall be no time when nothing shalbe good. It dares appeare and spread, and glister in the World, but evill buries it selfe in night and darknesse, and is chastised and suppressed when good is cherished and rewarded. And as Imbro­derers, Lapidaries, and other Artisans, can by all things adorne their workes; for by adding bet­ter things, the better they shew in Lush and in Eminency; so good doth not onely prostrate her amiablenesse to all, but refuses no end, no not of her utter contrary evill, that shee may bee the more common to us. For euill manners are parents of good Lawes; and in every evill there is an ex­cellency, which (in common speech) we call good. For the fashions of habits, for our moving in gestures, for phrases in our speech, we say they were good as long as they were used, that is, as long as they were common; and wee eate, wee walke, onely when it is, or seemes good to doe so. All faire, all profitable, all vertuous, is good, and these three things I thinke embrace all things, but their utter contraries; of which also faire may be rich and vertuous; poore may bee vertuous and faire; vitious may be faire and rich; so that good hath this good meanes to be common, that some subjects she can possesse intirely; and in sub­jects poysoned with evill, she can humbly stoop [Page 12] to accompany the evill. And of indifferent things many things are become perfectly good by be­ing common, as customes by use are made binding Lawes. But I remember nothing that is there­fore ill, because it is common, but Women, of whom also; They that are most common, are the best of that Occupation they professe.

V. That all things kill themselves.

TO affect, yea to effect their owne death all living things are impor­tuned, not by Nature only which perfects them, but by Art and Education, which perfects her. Plants quickened and inhabited by the most un­worthy soule, which therefore neither will nor worke, affect an end, a perfection, a death; this they spend their spirits to attaine, this attained, they languish and wither. And by how much more they are by mans Industry warmed, cheri­shed, and pampered; so much the more early they climbe to this perfection, this death. And if amongst Men not to defend be to kill, what a [Page 13] hainous selfe-murther is it, not to defend it selfe. This defence because Beasts neglect, they kill themselves, because they exceed us in number, strength, and a lawlesse liberty: yea, of Horses and other beasts, they that inherit most courage by being bred of gallantest parents, and by Artificial nursing are bettered, will runne to their owne deaths, neither sollicited by spurres which they need not, nor by honour which they apprehend not. If then the valiant kill himselfe, who can excuse the coward? Or how shall Man bee free from this, since the first Man taught us this, ex­cept we cannot kill our selves, because he kill'd us all. Yet lest something should repaire this Common ruine, we daily kill our bodies with sur­feits, and our mindes with anguishes. Of our powers, remembring kils our memory; Of Affecti­ons, Lusting our lust; Of vertues, Giving kils libe­rality. And if these kill themselves, they do it in their best & supreme perfection: for after perfecti­on immediately follows excesse, which changeth the natures and the names, and makes them not the same things. If then the best things kill themselves soonest, (for no affection endures, and all things labour to this perfection) all tra­vell to their owne death, yea the frame of the whole World, if it were possible for God to be idle, yet because it began, must dye. Then in this idle­nesse imagined in God, what could kill the world but it selfe, since out of it, nothing is?

VI. That it is possible to find some ver­tue in some Women.

I Am not of that seard Impudence that I dare defend Women, or pronounce them good; yet we see Physitians allow some vertue in every poyson. Alas! why should we except Women? since certainely, they are good for Physicke at least, so as some mine is good for a feaver. And though they be the Occasioners of many sinnes, they are also the Punishers and Revengers of the same sinnes: For I have seldome seene one which consumes his substance and body upon them, e­scape diseases, or beggery; and this is their Iu­stice. And if suum cui (que) dare, bee the fulfilling of all Civill Iustice, they are most just; for they deny that which is theirs to no man.

And who may doubt of great wisdome in them, that doth but observe with how much labour and cunning our Iusticers and other dispensers of the Lawes study to imbrace them: and how [Page 15] zealously our Preachers dehort men from them, onely by urging their subtilties, and policies, and wisedome, which are in them? Or who can de­ny them a good measure of Fortitude, if hee con­sider how valiant men they have overthrowne, and being themselves overthrowne, how much and how patiently they beare? And though they bee most intemperate, I care not, for I un­dertooke to furnish them with some vertue, not with all. Necessity, which makes even bad things good, prevailes also for them, for wee must say of them, as of some sharpe pinching Lawes; If men were free from infirmities, they were needlesse. These or none must serve for reasons, and it is my great happinesse that Examples prove not Rules, for to confirme this Opinion, the World yeelds not one Example.

VII. That Old men are more fantastike then Young.

WHO reads this Paradox but thinks mee more fantastike now, than I was yesterday, when I did not think thus: And if one day make this sensible change in men, what will the burthen of many yeeres? To bee fan­tastike in young men is conceiptfull distemperature, and a witty madnesse; but in old men, whose sen­ses are withered, it becomes naturall, therefore more full and perfect. For as when wee sleepe our fancy is most strong; so it is in age, which is a slumber of the deepe sleepe of death. They taxe us of Inconstancy, which in themselves young they allowed; so that reprooving that which they did approove, their Inconstancy exceedeth ours, because they have changed once more then wee. Yea, they are more idlely busied in conceited ap­parell then wee; for we, when we are melancholy, weare blacke; when lusty, greene; when forsaken, tawney; pleasing our owne inward affections, lea­ving them to others indifferent; but they pre­scribe [Page 17] lawes, and constraine the Noble, the Schol­ler, the Merchant, and all Estates to a certaine habit. The old men of our time have changed with patience their owne bodies, much of their lawes, much of their languages; yea their Religi­on, yet they accuse us. To be Amorous is proper and naturall in a young man, but in an old man most fantastike. And that ridling humour of Iealousie, which seekes and would not finde, which re­quires and repents his knowledge, is in them most common, yet most fantastike. Yea, that which falls never in young men, is in them most fantastike and naturall, that is, Covetousness [...]; even at their journeyes end to make great provision. Is any habit of young men so fantastike, as in the hot­test seasons to be double-gowned or hooded like our Elders? Or seemes it so ridiculous to weare long haire, as to weare none. Truely, as among the Philosophers, the Skeptike, which doubts all, was more contentious, then either the Dogmatike which affirmes, or Academike which denyes all; so are these uncertaine Elders, which both cals them fantastike which follow others inventions, and them also which are led by their owne hu­morous suggestion, more fantastike then o­ther.

VIII. That Nature is our worst Guide.

SHal she be guide to all Creatures, which is her selfe one? Or if she also have a guide, shall any Creature have a better guide then wee? The affections of lust and anger, yea even to erre is naturall; shall we follow these? Can shee be a good guide to us, which hath corrupted not us onely but her selfe? Was not the first man, by the desire of knowledge, corrupted even in the whi­test integrity of Nature? And did not Nature (if Nature did any thing) infuse into him this de­sire of knowledge, and so this corruption in him, into us? If by Nature wee shall understand our essence, our definition, or reason, noblenesse, then this being alike common to all (the Idiot and the Wizard being equally reasonable) why should not all men having equally all one nature, fol­low one course? Or if we shall understand our inclinations; alas! how unable a guide is that which followes the temperature of our slimie bo­dies? [Page 19] for we cannot say that we derive our in­cli [...]ations, our mindes, or soules from our Parents by any way: to say that it is all from all, is error in reason, for then with the first nothing re­maines; or is a part from all, is errour in experi­ence, for then this part equally imparted to ma­ny children, would like Gavel-kind lands, in few generations become nothing; or to say it by communication, is errour in Divinity, for to com­municate the ability of communicating whole essence with any but God, is utter blasphemy. And if thou hit thy Fathers nature and inclinati­on, he also had his Fathers, and so climbing up, all comes of one man, and have one nature, all shall imbrace one course; but that cannot bee, therefore our complexions and whole bodies, wee inherit from Parents; our inclinations and minds follow that: For our minde is heavy in our bo­dies afflictions, and rejoyceth in our bodies plea­sure: how then shall this nature governe us, that is governed by the worst part of us? Nature though oft chased away, it will retu [...]ne; 'tis true, but those good motions and inspirations which be our guides must bee [...]ooed, courted, and welcomed, or else they abandon us. And that old Axiome, nihil invita, &c. must not be said thou shalt, but thou wilt doe nothing against Nature; so unwil­ling he notes us to curbe our naturall appetites. Wee call our bastards alwayes our naturall issue, and we define a Foole by nothing so ordinary, as by the name of naturall. And that poore know­ledge [Page 20] whereby we conceive what raine is, what wind, what thunder, wee call Metaphysicke, super­naturall; such small things, such no things doe we allow to our pliant Natures apprehension. Lastly, by following her, we lose the pleasant, and lawfull commodities of this life, for wee shall drinke water and eate rootes, and those not sweet and delicate, as now by Mans art and industry they are made: we shall lose all the ne­cessities of societies, lawes, arts, and sciences, which are all the workemanship of Man: yea we shall lack the last best refuge of misery, death [...] because no death is naturall: for if yee will not dare to call all death violent (though I see not why sicknesses be not violences) yet causes of all deaths proceed of the defect of that which nature made perfect, and would preserve, and therefore all against nature.

IX. That only Cowards dare dye.

EXtreames are equally removed from the meane; so that headlong despe­ratenesse asmuch offends true valour, as backward Cowardice: of which sort I reckon justly all un-inforced deaths. When will your valiant man dye of ne­cessity? [Page 21] so Cowards suffer what cannot be avoi­ded: and to runne into death unimportun'd, is to runne into the first condemned desperatenesse. Will he dye when he is rich and happy? then by living he may doe more good: and in afflicti­ons and miseries, death is the chosen refuge of Cowards.

But it is taught and practised among our Gal­lants, that rather than our reputations suffer a­ny m [...]ime, or we any misery, wee shall offer our brests to the Cannons mouth, yea to our swords points: And this seemes a very brave and a ve­ry climbing (which is a Cowardly, earthly, and indeed a very groveling) spirit. Why doe they chaine these slaves to the Gallyes, but that they thrust their deaths, and would at every loose leape into the sea? Why doe they take weapons from condemned men, but to barre them of that ease which Cowards affect, a speedy death. Truely this life is a tempest, and a warfare, and he which dares dye, to escape the anguish of it, seems to mee, but so valiant, as hee which dares hang himselfe, lest hee be prest to the warres. I have seene one in that extremity of melancholy, which was then become madnesse, to make his owne breath an Instrument to stay his breath, and la­bour to choake himselfe [...] but alas! he was mad. And we knew another that languished under the oppression of a poore disgrace so much, that hee tooke more paines to dye, then would have [Page 22] served to have nourished life and spirit enough to have out-lived his disgrace. What Foole will call this Cowardlinesse, Valour? or this Basenesse, Humility? And lastly, of these men which dye the Allegoricall death of entring into Religion, how few are found fit for any shew of valiancy? but onely a soft and supple metall, made onely fo [...] Cowardly solitarinesse.

X. That a Wise Man is knowne by much laughing.

RIde, si sapis, ô puella ride; If thou beest wise, laugh: for since the powers of discourse, reason, and laughter, bee equally proper unto Man onely, why shall not hee be onely most wise, which hath most use of laughing, aswell as he which hath most of reasoning and discoursing? I alwaies did, and shall understand that Adage;

That by much laughing thou maist know there is a foole, not, that the laughers are fooles, but that among them there is some foole, at whom wise­m [...]n laugh: which moved Erasmus to put this [Page 23] as his first Argument in the mouth of his Folly, that shee made Beholders laugh: for fooles are the most laughed at, and laugh the least themselves of any. And Nature saw this faculty to bee so necessary in man, that shee hath beene content that by more causes we should be importuned to laugh, then to the exercise of any other power; for things in themselves utterly contra [...]y, beget this effect; for wee laugh both at witty and absurd things: At both which sorts I have seen Men laugh so long, and so earnestly, that at last they have wept that they could laugh no more. And ther­fore the Poet having described the quietnesse of a wise retired man, saith in one, what w [...] [...]ave said before in many lines; Quid facit Canius tuus? ridet. We have received that even the extremity of laughing, yea of weeping also, hath beene ac­counted wisedome: And that Democritus and Heraclitus, the lovers of these Extremes, have been called lovers of wisedome. Now among our wisemen I doubt not, but many would be found who would laugh at Heraclitus weeping, none which weepe at Democritus laughing. At the hearing of Comedies or other witty reports, I have noted some, which not understanding [...]ests &c. have yet chosen this as the best meanes to seeme wise and understandiug, to laugh when their Companions laugh; and I have presumed them ig­norant, whom I have seene unmoved. A foole if he come into a Princes Court, and see a gay man lea­ning at the wall, so glistering, and so painted in [Page 24] many colours that he is hardly discerned from one of the pictures in the Arras, hanging his body like an Iron-bound-chest, girt in and thicke ribb'd with broad gold laces, may (and commonly doth) envy him. But alas! shall a wiseman, which may not onely not envy, but not pitty this monster, do nothing? Yes, let him laugh. And if one of these hot cholerike firebrands, which nourish themselves by quarrelling, and kindling others, spit up­on a foole one sparke of disgrace, he, like a that [...]h [...] house quickly burning, may bee angry; but the wiseman, as cold as the Salamander, may not onely not be angry with him, but not be sorry for him; therefore let him laugh: so he shall be knowne a Man, because he can laugh, a wise Man that hee knowes at what to laugh [...] and a valiant Man that he dares laugh: for he that laughs is justly repu­ted more wise, then at whom it is laughed. And hence I thinke proceeds that which in these la­ter formall times I have much noted; that now when our superstitious civility of manners is be­come a mutuall tickling flattery of one another, almost every man affecteth an humour of jesting, and is content to be de [...]ect, and to deforme him­selfe, yea become foole to no other end that I can spie, but to give his wise Companion occasion to laugh; and to shew themselves in promptnesse of laughing is so great in wisemen, that I thinke all wisemen, if any wiseman do reade this Paradox, will laugh both at it and me.

XI. That the gifts of the Body are bet­ter then those of the Minde.

I Say againe, that the body makes the minde, not that it created it a minde, but formes it a good or a bad mind; and this minde may be confounded with soule with­out any violence or injustice to Reason or Philosophy: then the soule it seemes is enabled by our body, not this by it. My Body licenseth my soule to see the Worlds beauties through mine eyes; to heare pleasant things through mine eares; and affords it apt Organs for the conveiance of all perceivable del [...]ght. But alas! my soule cannot make any part, that is not of it selfe disposed, to see or heare, though with­out doubt she be as able and as willing to see behind as before. Now if my soule would say, that shee enables any part to taste these plea­sures, but is her selfe onely delighted with those rich sweetnesses which her in [...]ard eyes and senses apprehend, shee should dissemble; for I see her often solaced with beauties, which shee sees through mine eyes, and with musicke which [Page 26] through mine eares she heares. This perfection then my body hath, that it can impart to my minde all his pleasures; and my minde hath still many, that she can neither [...]each my indisposed part her faculties, nor to the best espoused parts shew [...]t beauty of Angels, of Musicke, of Spheres, whereof she boasts the contemplation. Are cha­stity, temperance, and fortitude gifts of the mind? I appeale to Physitians whether the cause of these be not in the body; health is the gift of the body, and patience in sickenesse the gift of the minde: then who will say that patience is as good a hap­pinesse, as health, when wee must be extremely miserable to purchase this happinesse. And for nourishing of civill societies and mutuall love a­mongst men, which is our chiefe end while wee are men; I say, this beauty, presence, and proporti­on of the body, hath a more masculine force in be­getting this love, then the vertues of the minde: for it strikes us suddenly, and possesseth us immo­derately; when to know those vertues requires some Iudgement in him which shall discerne, a long time and conversation betweene them. And even at last how much of our faith and beleefe shall we be driven to bestow, to assure our selves that these vertues are not counterfeited: for it is the same to be, and seeme vertuous, because that he that hath no vertue, can dissemble none, but he which hath a little, may gild and enamell, yea and transforme much vice into vertue: For al­low a man to be discreet and flexible to complaints, [Page 27] which are great vertuous gifts of the minde, this discretion will be to him the soule & Elixir of all vertues, so that touched with this, even pride shal be made humility; and Cowardice, honourable and wise valour. But in things seene there is not this danger, for the body which thou lovest and esteemest faire, is faire; certainely if it bee not faire in perfection, yet it is faire in the same degree that thy Iudgement is good. And in a faire body, I doe seldome suspect a disproportioned minde, and as seldome hope for a good in a deformed. When I see a goodly house, I assure my selfe of a worthy possessour, from a ruinous weather-beaten buil­ding I turn away, because it seems either stuffed with varlets as a Prison, or handled by an unwor­thy and negligent tenant, that so suffers the waste thereof. And truely the gifts of Fortune, which are riches, are onely handmaids, yea Pandars of the bodies pleasure; with their service we nourish health, and preserve dainty, and wee buy delights; so that vertue which must be loved for it selfe, and respects no further end, is indeed nothing: And riches, whose end is the good of the body, can­not be so perfectly good, as the end whereto it le­vels.