CƲPIDS SCHOOLE: Wherein Yong men and Mayds may learne diverse sorts of new, witty, Amorous Complements.

Newly written, and never any written be­fore in the same kinde.

Complaine unto thy Love with flattering Art,
For gentle words do move the hardest heart.
[cupid seated before a stand with an open book in front of three standing couples]

Printed at London by Rich. Cotes, and are to be sold by Francis Grove, dwelling on Snow-hill, neere the Sarasins-head, 1642.

The Character and Description of a Complement.

IN the old time their Garments were plaine, and so were their words and meaning. But after­ward, some more witty than the rest (finding what power perswa­ [...]ion hath over the minde of man) invented a new art of words called Complements: which [...]s indeed nothing but an effable and courte­ous manner of speech, and yet is now growne so necessary, that nothing can be done without [...]hem. For men now a-dayes regard not vertu­ous qualities, but onely a pleasingnesse of nature and condition, so that hee that speaketh best, [...]eeds best, and shall be sure to be preferred before the plaine meaning man. So that the ne­ [...]essity of these times doth enforce us to learne [...]he Art of Complements, which I will prove [...]nto you by particulars; and first in love, he that [...]hinkes to winne affection by telling a Mayd in [Page] plaine tearmes that hee loves her, is much de­ceived, for when she heares you begin so plain­ly, she will start backe from you, and think you to be some ignorant Coridon, that know not Cupids language: when on the contrary, hee that can deliver his minde in amorous words, doth seeme to keepe the keyes of their May­denheads, of which he can take possession when he list, for their hearts are at his devotion; while the other poore Lover that cannot expresse his minde in a Complement, may pine away with sorrow unregarded, for he that loves most is many times neglected, and he that loves least is oftentimes most respected. Therefore it be­hooves a Lover now adaies to use some Com­plement & insinuation to procure affection, for a man can prevaile in nothing without Com­plements: your friend will not thinke you his friend, without you salute him with a Comple­ment: you cannot invite one home, nor enter­taine him afterward, without Complements neither can you keepe company, or be sociable without the mutual enterchanging of Comple­ments. To conclude therefore, a Complemen [...] is the language of Callants, the Conquer our o [...] Mayden-heads, the quintessence of wit, the res [...] ner of speech, and necessary both in City an [...] Countrey. For though the Countrey-man be [Page] plaine, yet faire and courteous words will pre­vaile much with the goodnesse of his nature: and this may be seene by the fable of Mercury and Iupiter, who wandring one night upon the plaines, not knowing where to get a lodging, at last they came to the house of old Baucis and Philemon, an old marryed couple, who had long lived together in a poore cottage: here Iupiter beginning to make his case known, the old wife Bauci [...] began to scold, and told him plainely she had no lodging for him, till at last Mercury so farre prevailed with his complementall elo­quence, that the good wife being ravished with his sweete words, straight opened the doore, lighted a candle, and entertained them with all kindnesse and courtesie▪ whereby you may see that such is the power of Complements, that it breakes lockes, opens doores at mid-night, and will give you accesse to the mistresse of your heart, if you can but handsomely complement with the Maid, and come over her with melting language; onely you must remember to mingle some kisses, and line her Apron with gold, and then you may be sure to obtaine your owne de­sires. Besides, as Complements are necessary in wooing, so you cannot counsell your friend to refraine from any vicious course, unlesse you use the ins [...]nuation of a Complement, fortruth [Page] is so sharpe, that it is displeasing to all men, and seemes to grate their eares, if it be not sweetned by some pleasant discourse; and therefore when you are to doe the tenderest office of a friend, which is to lay his shame and vice before him, there is nothing can give a more ready entrance to your words, or make him more willingly en­dure the sharpenesse of good counsell, than to beginne in a loving and complementall manner. Seeing therefore that a Cōplement is so grace­full to the speaker, so delightfull to the hearer, and so powerfull to winne affection, I hope young men will imbrace and love this Booke, which teacheth them how to obtain their love. And I hope young Mayds will lay it under their pillow, and read it when they goe to bed, since, it will instruct them how to give an Answer to their amorous Sutors. And so wishing to all young men and Maydes the accomplishment of their desires, I leave these complements to their perusall.

A Complement to the Reader.

Gentle Reader,

IT is some perswasion to read a Booke, when wee dare say that the matter is new, and that there was never any thing written in the same kind. This we may affirme of these Complements: and there­fore hauing had no patterne of imitation to direct me, I hope (kind Reader) thou wilt so much the ra­ther vouchsafe out of thy wonted kindnesse to grace them with thy favourable acceptance. Let their new­nesse perswade thee to rerd, and then I doubt not but thou shalt find some amongst them so pleasant and delightfull, as will induce thee to crowne my la­bours with thy free commendations. For as I am studious to benefit thee in in any thing I may so all the ayme of my desire is, to bee thought worthy of thy li­king and good opinion: which if thou grant mee, it shall oblige the service of my Pen to pleasure th [...] in this or any other kind. So I rest,

Thine as mine, W. S.

The Author to the Reader.

VVHen thou dost chance to fall in love by power of Cupids bow,
If thou these Complements doe prove, their vertue thou shalt know.
Suppose thy Sweet-heart fled from thee, as Daphne fram Apollo,
Yet she at last changed will be, if thou the c [...]ace doe follow.
And if these Complements thou use, in fitting place and time:
The Maid that did thy love refuse, shall unto love incline.
For though my selfe did never try, yet I have heard it said,
Faire words and opportunity, will winne the coyest Maid.

The Contents.

  • 1 TO wooe a Mayd.
  • 2 The Mayds answer.
  • 3 To urge a sute the second time.
  • 4 The Mayds answer.
  • 5 The Lovers reply.
  • 6 Master Brainelesse his wooing of Barbara
  • 7 To excuse some inconsiderate speeches to [...] Gentlewoman.
  • 8 To welcome one home.
  • 9 To perswade by way of counsell.
  • 10 To entreate a courtesie.
  • 11 The Answer.
  • 12 To bid a Bride goodmorrow.
  • 13 To bid a Bridegroome goodmorrow.
  • 14 At the first meeting of a friend.
  • 15 The other friends answer.
  • 16 To present a gift to a Mayd.
  • 17 To bid a friend farewell.
  • 18 To entreat a courtesie of a stranger.
  • 19 To aske a Fathers good will to marry his Daughter.
  • 20 To begin a health.
  • 21 To promise to pledge it.
  • [Page]22 To desire to be excus'd.
  • 23 To acquaint one wiih a journey.
  • 24 To thanke one for a curtesie.
  • 25 To excuse a friend in his absence.
  • 26 The wooers complement.
  • 27 The Mayes answer.
  • 28 The Wooers answer.
  • 29 To invite one home.
  • 30 To excuse with thankes.
  • 31 To deliver a letter to a Lady.
  • 32 The Ladies answer to her Waiting-Mayd.
  • 33 The Waiting-Mayds answer.
  • 34 The Serving-mans wooing of Susan a Chamber-mayd,
  • 35 Susans answer.
  • 36 To desire the Mayd to speak to the Mistres.
  • 37 To entreat lodging at a Gentlemans house.
  • 38 The Gentlemans answer.
  • 39 A bold Complement to a Widdow.
  • 40 The Widdowes answer.
  • 41 To wooe a Country-Mayd.
  • 42 The Country-Mayds answer.

A BOOKE OF COMPLEMENTS.

As there are divers occasions of speech, so to have variety of words and phrases to ex­presse ones selfe, must needs be an ornament to the speaker, and delightfull to the hearer: I have therefore in this little Booke set down some formes of speaking and answering, as followeth.

1. To wooe a Mayd.

FAire Mayd, the opportunity of time and place (none being by to over-heare us) doth invite mée to discover my affection. For since nothing can be determined in loves affaires without consent of both parties, I meane now so acquaint you with my desire: [Page] Which is, that since my heart hath made choice of you in the way of marriage, you would bée pleased to receive my love with like affection: I know I might have delivered my mind in more choice and eloquent words, but beléeve me, that love is truest, which speakes plainest. Now the reasons that induce mée to séeke your lovs, are the vertuous qualities which adorne your mind; whose amiable and lovely beauty makes my heart burne with a chast affection: Thinke not therefore that any foule desires move me to become a Suitor to y [...]u, nor am I hasty for marriage; for if you please to grant mée your love, I will stay your leasure to ap­point the day to consummate our happinesse. I am a young pleader at the Barre of affection, and therefore hope you will not discourage me in my first suit, but rather since my cause is full of love, will at last give me a happy answere. Fearfull distrust I know doth plead against me, and tels you how Maides have béene de­ceived by flattering men, who have onely made a Complement of love to obtaine their own de­sires But alas (faire Maide) condemne not all because some have béene false hearted: for I dare promise for my selfe, that the streame of my affection slowing from your vertues shall ever kéepe a constant course. For the seale of [Page] your love is so déepely imprinted in my heart, that no time can weare it out: and therefore be assured, that till you cease to be vertuous (which I know is impossible) I can never cease to love you. And thus (swéet Mayd) I have unclasped the volumne of my secret thoughts, wherein you may read by faire intents, which are onely to obtaine your love. and ioyne your heart néerer to mine by the inviolable Bond of marriage. Let me desire you therefore to unfold your lips, and give a favouring. answer to my languish­ing hopes.

2. The Maids answer

SIr, your language is so full of chast affe­ction, and delivered with so much mooving passion, that had my fancy hitherto entertai­ned a thought of love, you had certainly prevai­led over the weakenesse of a Mayds resistance. But alas, your love is a stranger to my heart; and therfore blame me not if I dare not receive it as a plaine guest, till I have consulted with my owne thoughts. Sudden consent is alwaies held dangerous, and is still followed by repen­tance. And therefore give me leave to consider your late motion, & I wil study your satisfectiō in my answer: which if it proove not to your con­tent, yet it shall expresse my thankfulnesse for [Page] that love you beare me. In the meane time I must dismisse my selfe from your company, for I feare my mother hath tooke notice of our con­ference, and so for my abrupt departure (if it be any breach of manners) I must relye on your parton.

3. To urge a suite the secondtime.

THe next day, repairing to the former place, I spyed these two Lovers lying on a bank of Flowers, so that using the friendship of some bushes to hide me, I lay downe, and so u [...]seene over-heard the former Sutor renewing his sute in these words: Faire Mayd, now is the time that your promise hath ingag'd you to give an answer to my doubtfull feares: and now I am to receive my sentence from you, which I hope shall be full of comfort, since the greatest offence wherewith you can charge my heart, is onely this, that I love you: and therefore I came to this place full of hope to be made happy by your answer, so let mée returne full of ioy by your frée consenting to my former motion▪ But what néede I doubt, or afflict my selfe with vaine feares? since I doe reads some comfort in your chéerefull countinance, which caynot, like a cruell Iudge, smile and condemne at once M [...] [Page] heart doth presage, that during my absence, Cu­pid hath wrought in your heart a good opinion of mée, which if you are unwilling to let your tongue confesse, lest a bush should spread it self upon your chéeke: I am content to take you [...] silence for my answer, so you will suffer me, ac [...] cording to the rules of love, to interpret that si­lence for consent, But say, I sée your lips are ready to prepare my doome, and therefore with patience I will expect my sentence either of life or death, since it is in your power to raise mee up, or cast me downe.

4. The Mayds answer.

SIr, I perceive the love that you professe un­to me can receive no alteration by time: for I was in good hope, that your two dayes absence would have inform'd your iudgement, to place your love on some more worthy choyce. But now since you are bent still to prosecute your former suite, and will not beléeve me when I [...]ell you how much I want of those v [...]tues which you attribute to me, I hope you will not [...]lame mée if I consent to your former motion: for I beléeve you love me in the way of mar­ [...]ge, and in that assuran [...] I grant you my love [...]aine.

5. The Lovers reply.

IT is a grant that makes me happy, and now let me seale my patent with this kisse, for you have given me your love, and with it a little world of happinesse: So that there remaines nothing, but that we appoint our wedding day, which I will not hasten through any forward desire of mine owne: For since I have obtain'd your promise for marriage, I doe beléeve that our hearts are already married in heaven, be­fore a Congregation of Angels, which the Church shal but only publish and make known to the world. And so bidding adieu to vaine Complements, which onely became mée as a Sutor, I hope I may now say you are mine, as I am yours.

6. Master Brainlesse his wooing of Mistrisse Barbara.

SWéete Mistresse Barbara, I beséech you not to be barbarous unto mée. For our Father [...] have made the match already, and I am now come to w [...]e you: for I feele the mouth o [...] my affection begin to water at thée, so th [...] there must be some spéedy remedy found out t [...] allay my burning heat; for if I looke, but [...] your pretty foote, I féele my heart begin to ris [...] [Page] beneath my girdle, that sure I thinke thou hast some spirit about thée, which doth bewitch mée, but I hope ere long, you shall finde that I have a spirit too, which if it take after my Mother, it may be a devillish spirit for any thing I know, for I am sure shee was an arrant shrew. But I love no long discourse, and therefore I would entreat you,

That you would looke upon my wounded heart▪
And with your favour helpe to ease my smart.

7. To excuse some inconfiderate speeches to a Gentlewoman.

IF formerly (swéet Mistris) I have throwne out any words inconsiderately, which might move your anger, I beséech you pardon them, or if my tongue have wronged my heart by hasty speaking, attribute it to my rashnesse, not want of love: for I recant those wordes that have mooved your iust disdaine, and since they cannot be recalled, let your wisedome and swéetnesse of nature be shewed in pardoning, as my folly was in offending: Let these words excuse my trespasse, for I know you are full of mercy, and cannot long deny a pardon to him that sues for it with teares, though in a greater matter. But I sée you turne away from mée as if my words séeking to excuse my former [Page] words did still offend you, and therefore I will beg some favour from you in these few verses which I made upon this occasion.

If that my tongue (faire Nymph) hath said a­misse,
The same for pardon now a Sutor is,
Or for it selfe if it too weakely pleade,
My lips on its beh [...]lfe thus intercede:
Thus sue, thus beg, and begging will not leave,
Till they a pardon s [...]al'd from yours receive,
And while my kisses beg, O happy me,
If I might ever such a begger be.

8. To welcome one home.

SIr, we have often wished your compony at home, and now you have made us happy in our desires, by your safe ret [...]rne, to bid you welcom is but the common rode way of friend­ship, and therefore I would f [...]ine speake some­thing that might set forth my love more fully, but indéed I find that all words are tóo meane to expresse the ioy tha [...] my heart conceives at your happy returne, Wée were fearfull and solicitons, least some misfortune might befall you in the way But now we must confesse we owe a sacrifice of thankes to Heaven for pro­tecting you in your iourney, and bringing you backe againe unto us, to whom I dare pr [...]sume [Page] you are as welcome as health to the ficke man, or a calme to the Weather-beaten Mar [...]iner. To conclude, I could bid you welcome a thou­sand times, and yet thinke those welcomes too few for since my love to you is infinite, I must néeds say you are infinitely welcome.

9. To perswade by way of Councell.

SIr, were I worthy to counsell you of whom I am more fit to learne than to advise, I would perswade you, to leave off that ill company, to which I finde you are too much addicted For I professe unto you, my counsell is directed to no other aime, but your owne good, and to entreate you to be kind unto your selfe, and not to disgrace your parentage and birth, by frequenting such base and ignoble company, who onely desire to infect you with their vices, and who like shaddowes onely de­pend upon the Sunne of your fortune: which if once it be darkened by the aclipse of adversity, you shall finde that you who before could num­ber so many friends, shall then be left alone to deplore your owne folly, in thinking that those could be friends unto you, who are not friends unto themselves: for having by their owne lavish profusion spent their owne estates, all their purpose now is to winde you into the [Page] some Labyrinth of misery, if there thou have al­ready entred into the intricate wayes of vice, let my counsell serve like Adriadne's clew of thred to guide your steps, backe againe into the way of vertue, from which you have too farre already wandred. But perhaps I shall obtaine your hatred, and by séeking to reclaime your er­rours, shall there by lose your favour, yet how­ever, I sh [...]ll expresse the duty and office of a friend: for while I see you run these wilde, and ruinous courses, though I am your friend, I will not be your flatterer.

10. To entreate a courtesie

SIr, you shall oblige mée to you, by adding one new favour to your former courtesies, for so it is, that my businesse will miscarry, un­lesse I obtaine your assistance, which if you please to grant mée, you shall not onely binde me unto you by the res [...]e [...]s of duty and obser­vance, but shall also expresse your selfe the mi­racle of true friendship, I confesse I am un­willing to be troublesome unto [...]ou, but yet such is the commanding necessity of my af­faires, that I must assume an unwonted bold­nesse to petition your favour and assistance in my behalfe.

11. The answer.

SIr, you may command mée; for I am so wholly devoted to your service, that you may assure your selfe, I can deny you no re­quest which lies within the circle or compasse of my power. For my heart is yours, and there­fore what good I am able to doe you (either in this or any other kind) you may promise your selfe) being indéed glad to be imployed in any service that concernes you, so that (to the abi­lity of a poore friend) I shall be ev [...]r ready to second your desires with my best endeavours. Command me therefore when you please, and you shall finde mée your ready servant, for I languish with a desire to doe you some courtesie that may expresse that friendship and love I owe you, which hath hitherto laine dead in me, for want of opportunity to demonstrate and make it evident to the eyes of the World, by some friendly office.

12. To bid a Bride good morrow.

MIstris Bride, I wish the ioyes of love may be still multiplyed upon you. Nay blush not, for it is no shame to doe the Common wealth service, by bringing a race of Souldi­ers into the World. I know this night you [Page] have endevoured for it, but we must sée the fruit hereafter: All this I wish is, that your Hus­band and you may live together like a conten­ted paire, happy in each other. What now? Wéeping? I hope you will not give such an ex­ample to the Mayds, or so disable your Bride­groom, as to shew any sigues of griefe or sorrow on the following morning to your Wedding day. If you have parted with a long preserved ioy to night, yet comfort your selfe in your los­ses, for there are many Mayds would have béen glad of your place, and thanke you too, But I have no art in Complements, and therefore in a word, I wish you all ioy.

13. To bid a Bridegroome good morrow.

MAster Bridegroom, I must congratulate the ioyes of Marriage, and wish they may increase daily to both your comforts: you have enioyed to night a happinesse which my knowledge did never yet arive at▪ and there­fore it is unpossible for me to guesse it; however I doe not envy, but wish you al happinesse with your faire choyce. And though by your heavy eye, I discerne you have not tooke your due of rest to night, yet you may take it out the next, for I could wish my Bedde were troubled with such fleas, on that condition I slept not these [Page] two nights. All that I can wish is this, that no fatall time day, or houre, may produce a change or alteration in your affections: But that you may live like Turtle Doves you ioying in her and shée with mutuall delight making you the obiect of all her happinesse, that so your marri­age may proove a merri-age.

14. At the first meeting of a friend.

SIr, you are well met and most happily re­turned; for fame hath given out a sinister report, that you were miscarried in your iour­ney, but I am glad the old proverbe is true, that fame is often a lyer. I pray let a pint of Wine be the Scrivener to renew the bonds of our friendship, for I am even full of ioy to be­hold you, and my heart would bid you welcome in better phrase, but that I want words to ex­presse the integrity and truth of my affection. I have forgot all this while to enquire of our friends health, my thoughts were so wholy bu­sied to bid you welcome. But I hope, Sir, they are well.

15. The other friends answer

SIr, your friends are all well, and are m [...]nd­ful of you in the remembrance of their love. Neither am I lesse ioyfull at our fortunate [Page] méeting, which is a happinesse I have long wished for; and though my tongue cannot in­terpret the inward ioy of my heart, yet I would not have you thinke that love is least; which hath least expression of it selfe. For a full ves­sell yéelds no sound, and a heart full of affection cannot so easily express it selfe in a smooth way of Complements: in a word I am heartily glad to sée you and to say more, were but to speake the same in more words.

16. To present a gift to a Mayd.

FAire Mayde, I would desire you to accept this small Ring, as an embleme of my af­fection, which like a circle shall be ever end­lesse. I know it is unworthy your acceptance, y [...]t vaine out of the graciousnesse of your hu­mility, to receive this unworthy pledge of that love and service which I shall ever owe you, till time shall inable me to expresse my love in some more worthy gift. And if at any time this toy doe chance to draw downe your eye unto your finger, if you please to remember me thereby and thinke on me who hath de vo­ted my selfe to your service, I shall thinke my selfe the lesse unhappy in my absence; though indéed till I returne againe, I shall be able to rellish no taste of comfort, since all my ioy is to [Page] enjoy your company: but my businesse doth en­force me away, so that leaving this with you as a memento of my affection, I take my leave with as sad a heart as ever lover parted with his Mistresse.

17. To bid a friend farewell.

SIr, I am so unwilling to be deprived of your swéete society, and so sorty to loose the fruition of your good company, that my heart will hardly permit mée to take my leave of you, yet since the necessity of your occasions doth enforce us to part, I can but wish you a prosperous iourney, and with my prayers daily solicite heaven for your safe re­turne. I will not bu [...]then your memory with severall commendations, but onely desire you to remember my love and service in generall, to all our friends in the Countrey. This is all I require of you, and since, though unwil­ling, wée must endure your absence from us, I will promise in the meane time, to bée your Beades-man to pray for your happy iourney and will onely kéepe so much of my heart as may kéepe me alive, the other half shal go with you. Now I see why death is called departing, for departing of friends is a short death; give [Page] me your hand, the ancient embleme of affecti­on, and I pray be carefull of your selfe, since in your welfare consists the welfare of all your friends. And so farewell.

18. To entreat a courtesy of a stranger

SIr, though I am unknowne unto you, yet the report of your knowne courtes [...] makes me bold to preferre a suit to your favourable consideration. Which if I might obtaine, I should think vertue hath not quite forsaken the World, but that there lives such sparkes of goodnesse in your brest, as may be able to en­flame posterity with an emulation of your goodnesse: I beséech you therefore be not afraid to doe me a courtesie, because I am a Stranger. For by how much you have lesse inducements to shew me any favour, you shal [...] thereby make your vertue shine with more illustrious glory. I must confesse I have no great mans Letter to prdcure your liking and good opinion of mée, yet since my desires are modest, and such as you may grant with ease, I hope you will grant my request, in requitall whereof I will proclaime your noblenesse and courtesie wheresoever I come, and will be sure to mention you alwayes in my prayers, who have with the eyes of pitty lookt downe upon the necessities of a stranger [Page] But I will not urge you with any further im­portunity, but leave my suit to your considera­tion. Verbum [...]at bono, few words prevaile with good men in a good cause.

19. To aske a Fathers good will for mar­rying his Daughter.

SIr, it hath pleased your Daughter to bestow her affection upon me, and now I must be­come a sutor to you for your good will & liking: For so farre sh [...] hath granted me her love, if it be seconded by your good allowance. I would intreat you therefore be pleased to ratify and e­stablish by your frée consent what the Heavens have already decréed. For our hearts are al­ready married in heaven, and we lacke nothing now but your consent, which I hope I shall obtaine and since we have both béene obedient in making you acquainted with our desires, I beséech you séeke not to crosse our loves, but give us both your blessing.

20. To begin a health.

GEntlemen, since we are now unable to commemorate our friends any other way than by remembring them in a health, I am bolo, out of the overflowing of my love, to de­dicate [Page] this health to the memory of our absent friends, I will fill it so full that a flye may drinke of it at the top, and will drinke it so clearely off, that a flye shall not be able to drink at the bottome. And thus Gentlemen I begin it, hoping that no man that honours his friend will refuse it, for I would have the health in a circular orbe move round about the table, till every man hath had it: And so (as I said be­fore) I begin this health Ad salutem Ami­corum. To the health of all our friends, wish­ing them as full a measure of all happinesse, as this cup is full of Wine. I hope you'le pledge me Gentlemen.

21. To promise to pledge it.

SIr, héeres no man will refuse it, for my part I will continue the health for I am bound to second it, since it is in memory to our friends, and therefore I will pledge it, though the glasse were so big, that the Moone might make a c [...] ­ver to it.

22. To desire to be excused.

GEntlemen, I must entreat your pardon, for I dare not drinke such health, since I know I should loose mine owne health by it. Besides, I hold it a heathenish custome, and [Page] not becomming a Christian. I shall therefore estéeme it a courtesy in you to dispence with my pledging it; for to shew love to our friends by wronging our selves, were a part of folly rather then friendship. To which purpose I have writ­ten these verses.

Tis an [...]ld rule now amonst Bac [...]ius traine,
That from our owne healthes drinking we refraine:
Yet now they doe begin healths to their friends,
Which with the losse of their owne health still ends:
And thus while of our friends, too much we make,
We love our friends but our owne selves we hate.

23. To acquaint one with a journey.

I Am to ride this morning toward London, and if you please to command mee any ser­vice, I shall be carefull in the performance of it: or if you have any thing to buy, pray let me be your steward, Ile buy it as cheape as I can for it is a happinesse to me to have any imploy, ment from you. If therefore you have any busi­nesse or cause to solicite, trust me with it and I will use the best diligence I can to effectuate your desires, or if you please to command me a­ny other service, you shall finde me your ready servant.

24. To thanke one for a courtesie.

SIr, I must acknowledge my self indebted to you for your last courtesy, the remembrance [Page] makes me your debtor till I can finde some op­portunity of requitall; neither will I bée un­gratefull for your last favour, but will returne it with interest when Fortune shall enable me: in the mean time I would desire you to reckon me in the number of those that are beholding to you, and for your former crurtesies to take the payment of a friend, in a currant English shankes.

25. To excuse a friend in his absence.

SIr, it is the part of one friend to excuse a­nother in his absence, and therefore I in­treate you not to be offended with him till you know the truth, but to interprete all things to the best. For I know it would much grieve him to gaine your displeasure, and therefore let not your wisedome censure him in his absence for I know hée will cleare himselfe at his re­turne. Bée pleased therefore to suspend your anger a while, and let not your passion pro­nounce him guilty, before you know the truth: for if you will uniustly condemne him, I must rise up in my friends defence, for howsoever his enemies have incensed you against him, I dare engage my selfe hée is not guilty of those calumnious slaunders which are heaped on him. Let me entreate you therefore not to give [Page] credit to the reports of malicious informers, who can with ease defame and cast aspersions upon the best men, but I would rather have you thinke the best of him, till you know the worst, and then determine of as you find cause. If hée deserve it. let him continue still your friend if not, let him be wiped out of the num­ber of your friends.

26. The Wooers Complement.

SWéet Maide, the Sunne hath almost gone his yearely iourney about the World since first I beheld the Sunne of your beauty, which hath so dazled mine eyes, that I behold all other things as trifles in respect of those glorious beames which do shoot themselves from thence. If therefore c [...]ntinuance of time may bée any assurance of fidelity in love, you must néedes confesse that I have long béene a devoted ser­vant to your perfections. Bée pleased therefore now to accept that love of mine, which my fond heart cannot conceale, you are the darling of my thoughts, the treasure of my heart, the [...]appinesse of my life: neither would I live [...]ndéed, but that I hope in time by my true ser­ [...]ice and obedience to obtaine your favour, Neither would I have you thinke that I slat­ [...]er you, for my tongue doth but interpret [...]o [Page] my heart, and the heavens know with what a due reverence I honour you. If therefore my love be grounded upon vertuous desires, you ought to cherrish it, but if I seeke your wrong by satisfaction of my owne desires, let me pe­rish in your favour, which is to me above all punishments. You are the Load-stone of my affection, your lips are the moyst Adamants that doe attract me, one touch from your hand hath power to revive the dead faculties of age. There is musick in your voyce, and a lovelines in all your actions. Blame me not then for lo­ving you, but blame your selfe for being so wor­thy of love, and since your beauties haue wonn­ded me, let your gracious answer cure mée by consenting to tie that holy knot of Marriage, which I have often urged. Make me happy in your answer.

27. The Mayds answer.

SIr, as you are a friend to vertue, I cherish your Love and am perswaded you love mée: but alas, wée Maydes have no power to give away our selves withou [...] consent of Parents, neither can we dispose o [...] our selves, or be liverall of our affections, til [...] our Parents be acqutinted with it. And therefore you must now become a Sutor to my Father; [Page] his liking obtain'd, mine shall follow, and if you get his good will: my hand shall give you my heart in the Church before the whole Con­gregation: in the meane time rest assured, you shall find me constant in affection, and there­fore you néede sollicite mée no further, I am yours.

28. The Wooers answer.

I Desire no more happinesse: for by your an­swere you have revived my drooping heart; neither would I change my estate with rich Croesus, since I value the obtaining of your love above the Empire and Dominion of the whole world. I doubt not but we shall live and love to­gether. And as for your Father, I hope he will grant us the priviledge due to al hearts, to love & to enioy: and I wil shortly take some fit op­portunity to sollicite his consent: in the interim I must force my heart to take my leave of you, not daring to salute you for feare one kis should tempt me back againe, but tis no matter, what we spare now, we will take out upon our Wed­ding day, Farewell.

29. To invite one home.

SIr, I have often desired your company at home, but yet could never be so happy to ob­taine it. But now you shall not deny to grace my poore house with your presence, since we are hard by it, and to honou [...] me so much as to let the star of your vertue shine within the sphear of my house: for I dare promise though enter­tainement be not worthy your invitation, yet you shall be as welcome as a friend can be to a friend.

30. To excuse with thankes.

SIr, I desire your pardon, for my businesse will not permit me, otherwise you should not intreat me twice if I could grant it without much hinderance to my selfe. I am sorry to re­fuse your kind invitation, but I will promise to visite you shortly, and since it is your desire, I will be bold to call upon you. At this time I am enforced to withstand my owne happinesse by denying your frée invitation, but I hope you will excuse me, and attribute it to my businesse, not want of love.

31. To deliver a Letter to a Lady.

MAdam, héere's a Letter waites your per­usall; and desires to be presented to your Ladyships hand, the messenger told mée that it was sent from your humblest servant Sir T. C.

32. The Ladies answer to her waiting-Gentlewoman.

VVHo bid you forsooth receive these a­morous papers? I know tis lighter than a Complement and it may be 'twas writ­ten in a Taverne, I will not open it till I meane to laugh, for I meane to make it my re­creation after meales. But I pray be carefull hereafter to receive no more, you know my mind, and now you cannot excuse your selfe by ignorance

33. The Waiting-mayds answer.

I Shall obey your Ladyships command, for I will not gaine your Ladyships displea­ [...]ure by receiving their Letters, though they [...]hould tempt me with a shower of Gold, I will [Page] not offend wilfully, but will study in all things to preserve your favour: for it hath bée hitherto the aime of my desires to continue my selfe in your Ladyships good liking, and I hope I shall never deserve the contrary.

34. The Servingmans wooing of Susan a Chamber-Mayd.

SVsan, it is now thrée yeares since we have béene fellow-servants together. During which time I have received many courte­sies from you, and béene invited to many a Sacke Posset, which kindnesses of yours, though tending to no other end than to expresse your owne naturall good [...]esse, have since invi­ted me to love you. And now having both [...]ate out the fi [...]e, and our candl [...] burning dim­ly, I thought this twi-light, would best be­come a Love-suit. For I professe unto you Susan, I love you with as much affection as my heart can obtaine: and albeit [...]e have often fallen out upon trifles, yet I did it but to try thy nature, which I found to be hasty (as the best natures are) but not able to retaine anger long, and therefore I hope you will forgive what is past, and consider my motion which tends, to both our good. For is it not better to [Page] live fréely in the marryed state of life, than to depend on service, where every frowne is ready to cast us off the hinges? for my part Susan, though the unthriftines of my friends did first compell me to undertake a servile life, yet I could never bring my heart to affect it, and I know you are of the same mind, for I have heard you say, your Father was a wealthy Far­mer, who comming behindhand with the world you were put forth to service, which kind of life I know must néeds séeme tedious, and there­fore I have propounded a way, whereby wée may both live a frée and happy life. I know you will obiect the want of meanes to maine­taine a charge or family. Tis true, but yet let us not despaire of Gods blessings, for have we not séene many Couples, whose whole stock could hardly purchase a Wedding Ring, and a Licence, who yet afterward by their owne endeavours have lived more contentedly than these great money-matches, which sel­dome prosper? for where there is love, there all things thrive, but where there is debate, there all things go to wrack. Love will supply the de­fects of want, so that if you please to entertaine my suite with your kind a [...]cep [...]ance▪ you shall not only frée yo [...]r selfe from the subiection of a servant but live i [...] the sswéet yoke of marriage. [Page] And now Susan I entreat you to cōsider these reasons which I could enlarge but that I feare our Candle will goe out, and therefore having thus rudely with little art, but much affection, delivered my minde, I hope you will make me happy by your answer.

35. Susans answer.

ROger, you are much mistakē to interpret any curtesie of mine to procéed from love, though indéed I have alwaies loved you as one servant may love another. But for other mat­ters (as they say) I never so much as dream't of them, and therefore doe not urge so vaine a suite, for I have something else to doe, than to thinke of marriage. It is a signe Roger you live easily, for ease is the nurse of love; but if you sate up night by night, starching as I doe, and then arose againe as early in the mor­ning you would have little mind to entertaine a thought of love, And therefore hereafter busie your selfe in some good imployment, & you shal sée these idle fancies will vanish of themselves. But if by this meanes your desires be not aba­ted, I will consider better of your motion, and this is all I can say at this time, in answere of your suit. And so farewell, for I heare my [Page] Mistris knocke above, and therefore I must be gone.

36. To desire a Mayd to speake to the Mistresse

SWéete-heart, I know your long and faith­full service hath indear'd you into your Mi­stresses opinion, so that she rep [...]ses some trust and confidence in your words, and I know you are not ignorant of those strange times & sea­sons when womens fancies are most apt to re­ceive Loves impression If therefore you would please to take some houre of advantage to re­member my suite to your Mistresse, and would but cast forth some words that may stir affecti­on in my behalfe, I would not proove unthank­full, For though others have solicited you in the same way, yet if you will promi [...] mée your good word and assistance to preferre my sute to your Mistresse, I will requite it in your owne desire, in earnest whereof I would intreate you to weare this Ring; and to be mindfull of me in my absence, that so at my next visitatiō of your Mistris, I may find her more i [...]c [...] [...]able to my su [...]e. Farewell.

37. To intreat lodging at a Gentle­mans house.

SIr, being a stranger benighted and strayed out of my may and finding that the Village Towne affords no Inne or house of receipt, I wouldgladly be beholding to you for this nights lodging till in the morning I may receive some better directions to procéed on my iourney.

38. The Gentlemans answer.

SIr, it is a courtesy that the lawes of hospita­lity bind me to performe. I must confesse our Towne is but ill provided for the entertain­ment of strangers, and therefore if you please to accept of such a meane lodging as my house can afford, you shall be welcome.

39. A bold Complement to a Widdow.

SWéet Widdow, I come not with a tedious Complement to win affection: but I come with love and youth, which are more gracefull qualities in a Widdowes eyes. I am indéed a younger brother, and have no land to indéere me [Page] into your liking, yet if you please (as they say) to cast away yourselfe upon a man, I hope I shal be able to delight you with the swéet contents of love. Thinke it not therefore the worst chari­ty to make a man, and to raise the fortunes of a yonger Brother, who only wants some of that white and red earth, which lyes by you so un­comfortably Come, I will not be put backe or daunted, nor will I take your no, for a denyall: for I know, however you Widdowes séeme to dislike our boldnesse▪ yet in your owne thoughts you doe commend us; when like good Souldiers comming up bravely, we make an assault upō your lips and scorne to retire, although your eyes shoot frownes against us. Thus far (swéet Widdow) I have bin bold with you, and I hope not more bold than welcome: yet lest I should p [...]esume too far, know therfore in plaine termes that albeit I am the last that hath sollicited you for affection, yet doe I not least affect you, but should be glad of such a comforter as yourselfe, who by your good counsel may reclaim me from the wild unstayed errors of my youth, for being once marryed, I wil fast from all loose affection, striving night and day to make myself worthy of the title of your husband, which I hope you will grant me, that so our wooing may conclude in a wedding.

40. The Widdowes answer.

ALas Sir, the remembrance of my late Husband, whose memory doth ever draw teares from mine eyes, his memory (I say) had so farre once prevailed, and was so déepely im­planted in me, that I resolved never to make a second choyce. But yet I know not how, moo­ved rather out of pitty to your selfe, than any de­sire of my owne, I am willing to second your desires in any lawfull affection. For I see you can speake moovingly, and I must confesse you have wrought more upō me than many others whom I could put backe at any time by telling them with a serious countenance, that I never meant to marry. But I sée you wil have no an­swer but in the right kind, and therefore (as I said before) in pitty of your youth, hoping you will be a comfort to my age, and proove a good Husband, I am content to make you Master of my selfe and mine. But still I say in pitty of your youth, for tis your youth and young blood that I love.

41. To wooe a Country Mayd

FAire Mayd the opportunity of occasion, and the strong bent of my affection (which will [Page] either break out in words, or breake my heart) compell me to take this short time to discover my desires unto you. The first time that I be­held you, was, when you were reaping your fa­thers corne, and then it séemed to mee that the golden eares did even bend unto your hands, & your straw hat became you better than if you had wo [...]e a coronet of starres. But indeed what néed you weare a starry crown, whose eyes are starres and have so powerfull an influence up­on the beholders, that ever since that day, my heart hath never béen mine owne, but yours, and my thoughts have béene wholly given over to thinke of nothing but the obtaining your love, for which I am come now to entreate, b [...]gge, and sue, knowing that you cannot be unmerci­full: for if you will save your Fathers Lambs out of danger when they fall into a pit. if such trifling things can moove your compassion. I hope you will a little commiserate the dolou [...]s, and extreame passions of a Lover. For I per­ [...]wade you to nothing but that which is the end of your comming into this world▪ and that is marriage, for how soone would the world decay and come to nothing, if it were not preserved by marriage? since therfore nature hath given you so large perfections, she lookes that you should requite her againe, and not to let your beauties [Page] wither on your chéeke, but to bestow your youth and beauty on him who will honor you both in age and sickenesse. For know this that beauty is a fading flower, which cannot long continue, and as Fryer Bacons headspake, Time is, Time was, Time is past: so Mayds have their sev [...]rall times and seasons; for at 15. they are in their prime, and then Time is, at 30. Time was, and at 40. Time it past. But I néede not, I hope, use so many circumstances in words, to come to the sull point af Marriage, since you yourselfe cannot be ignorant of my affection For when you went to milke, I have like a faint shadow followed you, ānd when you went to fold your fathers shéepe, I have helpt you all which were services of that love and duty which my heart doth owe you. Be pleased therefore now out of the goodnesse of your nature, and by that soft compassion which should dwell in a Ma [...]dens heart▪ to grant me your love, and then I shal estéeme myselfe more happy than the greatest Monarch in the world. I beséech you do not de­ny me, but let one chast kisse strike a bargaine betwéene us, that so we may tie the true Lovers knot of marriage.

42. The Country Maydes answer.

SIr, I had thought you would not have mockt me by laying beauty to my charge, for I have often beheld my face in the running streame, but I wish I could never behold such a dicker of beauty as you will ascribe unto me. You compare my eyes unto starres, and I know not what. Alas, Sir, doe you thinke we Coun­treyMayds are such harmelesse innocent fooles that we are taken with fine fai [...]e words, which you Courtiers call Complements? Alas no, you may goe use them to Ladies: yet I know not how, mée thinkes your words come from you with such fervency of affection, that I could find in my heart to answer you in your owne phrase, for you must know wée Country Mayds can Complement as wel as you: know therefore that if your former words doe pro­ceed out of chast desire to marry mee, and if your heart hath beene so long a servant of mine I will not detaine your wages, but will pay you love for love againe, and that I know is the payment that you expect. But I pray boast not that you overcame me with a Complemēt though indéed I like your Complements very well, which being set forth with a languish­ing [Page] behaviour, did become you so wel, that I am content to yeeld my selfe to your disposing, and to make my selfe an example to shew what great power a Complement delivered in due time and place may have over a mayds affecti­on: and so without further ceremony, pray let our Ba [...]es be bidden, let the fidlers be hired to play upon our wedding day, and let the Mayds strew the way to Church woth flowers, for your Complement hath over­come me, and so I leave you.

FINIS.

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