The rogue: or The life of Guzman de Alfarache. VVritten in Spanish by Matheo Aleman, seruant to his Catholike Maiestie, and borne in Seuill

THE ROGVE: OR, THE FIRST PART OF THE LIFE OF GVZMAN DE ALFARACHE. The first Booke. (Book 1)

CHAPTER I.

Guzman de Alfarache recounteth who was his Father, and thereupon takes occa∣sion learnedly to discourse of Detractors, and euill speakers, of vnconscionable Merchants, of Iudges, of bad Clerkes, of Lites, and Litigants, and that too much neatnes in cloaths, and nice dressing, is ill in a Woman, & worse in a Man.

CVrious Reader, The desire which I had to re∣count my life vnto thee, made me make great haste to ingulfe my selfe therein, without first preparing some things fit to be related, which (seruing as an induction and entrance to the matter) had beene very needfull for the better informing of thy vnderstanding: (for beeing essentiall to this Discourse) they would like∣wise haue giuen thee no small content. But through too much haste, I forgat to shut the doore after mee, and so vnawares haue left a way of entrance open, for euery wrangling Sophister, and smatterer in Logicke, to taxe me ofignorance, and to lay it as a fault to my charge, that I did not proceed à definitione ad definitum, from the de∣finition to the thing defined. And that before I tooke vpon me to make Rela∣tion thereof, I had not first told thee, who, and what were my Parents, toge∣ther with their obscure and confused birth: which so much for so much, or as farre as concerneth them in their particular, according to their modell, and proportion in their kind and degree, would without doubt (had I but vnder∣taken to describe it vnto you) beene farre more pleasing, and more acceptable vnto you, then this mine owne life. I will rather preferre that, which is of most importance, leauing that which is not lawfull for me, to others to vn∣dergoe that taske, and to play out that tricke at Cards for me. And albeit it becommeth no man, to participate of that propertie of the Hyena, to make a liuing by ripping vp the liues of the dead, as shee doth maintaine her selfe * 1.1

by feeding on those carkases which she teares out of graues; I assure my selfe, considering the Censurers that are now adayes to bee found in the world, they will not want those that will write their Chronicle. Nor is it a thing to be wondred at, since that this slight shadowing of my Fathers life, seemeth to inferre, that I pare them too neere the quicke, or at least, that there went but one paire of sheeres, betweene their liues, and mine. And I doubt not, but thou wilt out with thy purse, and giue mee a thousand rash Attri∣butes; the least whereof shall be either Foole, or Blockhead, or Coxcombe, or the like. For if I cannot conceale mine owne faults, you will say, I will make no bones to bewray others. Thy reason is good, and I allow of it, but I would haue thee withall to consider, That albeit thou wilt count mee but a lewd a 1.2 Companion, yet I would not willingly seeme so to be, though it bee farre worse to be so, and to make boast of wickednesse. And that by contradicting so iust a Precept, as is that fifth Commandement, touching the honour and re∣uerence which I owe them, I should goe about to couer mine owne weake∣nesses, by laying open those of my Ancestors. For, it is the birth of vile and base b 1.3 thoughts, to seeke to grace themselues by disgracing others, which is now an ordinary practice, which I condemne for that solemn c 1.4 foolery of sixe Priests Copes, or double-Feasts; that is to say, for anotorious, and high point of folly. And a greater there cannot be, because therein I discouer my bend, and shew which way the dint of my edge lyeth. And my errour is not sal∣ued, by wounding the good name of my neighbour, or by traducing my Pa∣rent. Besides, the Detractor neuer heareth well, but is euill spoken of by all men. But to me, it doth not succeed so; for in the setting forth and adorning of this History, (it being necessary that my selfe must needs doe it) no man but will say, Gods blessing be with him, that so truely resembles his Parents, casting vpon me these their good wishes by the way. Againe, his life was so well knowne, and all that he did, so manifest to all the world, that to pretend the denying of it, were meere folly, and an open d 1.5 Arrest, and free liberty gi∣uen for the occasioning of new matter of murmuration to be brought against him. And therefore I am perswaded, that I doe them (if I may vse that phrase of speech) a notorious courtesie, in expressing the pure, and true naked Text, wherewith I will giue the lye to those glosses, which haue beene made there∣upon. For as often as any one mentioneth any thing of him, or recounts ought of his, he addes thereunto, and multiplyes it with the Cyphers, which are set to his owne Spectacles, or as it pleaseth him; sometimes making more, but neuer lesse, as the vaine comes vpon him, and as the toy for the pre∣sent takes him in the head. For there is a certaine kinde of men, that when matter is offered suting to their purpose, for to make their tale square, and to hang well together, will lessen a Pyramis of Egypt, and make of a Gnat an Ele∣phant, gather euidence from surmises; sight from hearing; and knowledge from opinion, onely for to flourish their eloquence, and to credit their discre∣tion. Thus it vsually falleth out, and this was to bee seene in a Gentleman a Stranger, whom my selfe knew in Madrid: Who beeing much affectioned to Spanish Horses, and desirous to carry home with him to his owne Country a true and faithfull Counterfeit, as wel for his own entertainment and delight, as that he might shew the same to his friends. And for that he was of a Nati∣on farre remote, and it being neither permitted, nor possible for him, to car∣rie them home aliue, hauing in his owne stable two of the fairest of stature, and feature, that were to be found in all the Court: he intreated two famous Painters, that each of them would draw one, as they should agree vpon their choise; promising (besides their due) a certain reward to him that should sur∣passe the other in workemanship. The one painted a py'd Horse, with that

perfection, that hee onely failed in that, which was impossible for him to doe, to wit, in giuing him life, and soule. For, in the rest (deceiuing the sight, because it did little, or nothing at all differ from the naturall) it would on the sudden haue blinded any carelesse eye, and at the first blush amazed his vnderstanding, for that there was no difference betweene a liuing Horse and it. With this onely did he fill and finish his Table, giuing in the rest Lights and shadowes, as might sute best with each seuerall part.

The other drew a Dapple-gray (that heauen-resembling colour) and though his worke were very good, yet it came very short of that before deliuered; yet in one thing, he went much beyond him, wherein he shew'd himselfe his crafts-master. And it was this: when he had painted his Horse, in those other parts of the Table, where he found blankes, or void places, in those that were vppermost, hee drew admirable Land-skips, and other representations of things afarre off, as clouds in the ayre; streakes in the sky, and other fiery co∣lours of the heauens, occasioned by the reflexe of the Sun-setting beames, rui∣nated buildings, and other diuersities of rare Architecture. And in the lower part, neerest to the ground; he had graced his worke with many fine Groues, dainty Flowers, greene Meddowes, and craggy Rocks. And on the one side of the Table, that made fittest for that purpose, hee had fastned all the furniture, belonging to his Horse, to the body of a Tree, at the foote whereof stood a Saddle, Gennet-fashion, so costly, and so curiously wrought, and with that excellency of Art, as it cannot be in-deered too much, or expressed to that life it deserueth.

When this Gentleman saw his Tables, and liking them wonderfull well (as he had reason so to doe) he first paid him, with whom he had first agreed, and not sticking vpon that which he demanded for it, giuing in reward to that ingenious Painter a rich ring from off his finger, he sent him away well satis∣fied, hauing paid him ouer & aboue the price for which they bargained.

Now the other grew so fondly conceited, & so foolishly in loue with his own worke, and was so vainely transported with hope of a liberall and franke pai∣ment, that he required such an excessiue price, as was beyond all reason.

The Gentleman, being strooken blanke, and put to a non-plus, that hee should aske him so much, and that he had scarce wherewithall to pay him, said vnto him; Tell me (my friend) why shouldest thou aske me so much; or why doest thou not consider with thy selfe what this other piece cost me, where∣vnto thine cannot be compared; nor comes nothing neere it? For the Horse (indeede Sir, answered the Painter) your Worship speakes reason. But the ve∣ry trees, and ruines, that are in mine, are worth as much as all the others worke. To whom the Gentleman replide; It is neither fitting, nor necessary for me to carry home with me such a volume of trees; such a bulke of ill com∣bined buildings; and such a deale of lumber and luggage as is heere, when we haue many faire and goodly houses in our owne Country. Besides, I haue not that affection to these toyes, as I haue vnto Horses. And that which I cannot otherwise enioy but by picture, that alone I desire to carry along with me.

The Painter againe made answere; In so great and large a piece; a sole sin∣gle Horse will not shew so well. And if for nothing else, yet at least for the de∣light of the Eye, and the gracing of the Square, it not only importeth a Pain∣ter, but euen enforceth him sometimes to compose a Picture of other diffe∣rent things, besides the Master piece, that may qualifie it the better, and giue it the more delicate lustre. So that, this seeming fairer to the sight, and pre∣senting it selfe with that pleasure as it doth, you will grant me this, I hope; That it is very fit, that a horse should haue his bridle, and his saddle, together with his trappings, and all other things belonging to a perfect and complete furniture; especially being so curiously wrought, with so cleane a hand, and

such exquisite Art, that if you would giue me other such as these, though they were all of Gold, I would not take them in exchange for those that you see heere drawne. The Gentleman hauing now found a string whereupon to play, and caught hold of that, which he most desired, which was the Picture, that he had already paid for (the other esteeming impertinent, though in it's kinde very good, and much to be commended) and not finding himselfe so o∣uer-stored with money, as to part with so much as hee required, discreetly said vnto him; I onely bargain'd with you for the Horse, and (for that the worke is good, and well wrought) I will (if you be pleased to sell it mee) pay you accordingly. As for the furniture, you may keepe it to your selfe, or be∣stow it vpon those, that haue a minde to it, for I haue no need of it. The Pain∣ter went away discontented, and vnpaid, by reason of the excessiue rates hee * 1.6 had set vpon his Picture; and for that out of his owne choise, he had wilfully ouerlashed his discretion, thinking with himselfe, that because his Worke was more, he should be the more rewarded.

It hath been (and still is) a common and generall custome amongst men, * 1.7 when you intreat them to recite what they know in this, or that other thing; or to report what they haue heard, or seene; or to tell you the truth and sub∣stance of a businesse, to prepare colours to slicke it ouer, and to paint and disguize it, that you can no more know the face of it, then the countenance of an old Hagge, that is plaisterd ouer with painting. Euery one giues his sha∣dowings after his owne fancie: one while amplifying; another while mouing passion; sometimes disannulling, and sometimes diuerting, as the humour takes him. Now he stretcheth it with his teeth, that he may make the Leather retch: By and by againe, he fileth and polisheth it, till he haue made it fit for his purpose, that he may cut and graue therein what he list; putting it an Ace, or a Sice higher, if it please him so to do. Making, like another Count * 1.8 Pala∣tine, a Foole, a Wise man; a filthy-fac'd fellow, a beautifull person; and a Co∣wardly Villaine, a valiant Hercules. They set the Caract and worth vpon things, as they please to value them; not remembring, that they may paint a Horse well inough, though they leaue him bare-ridged, and without his fur∣niture; and report a thing true inough to the life, without commenting vp∣on it. Iust so hath it fared with my father, of whom to speake the truth, things are so falsified, that nothing is now said of him, which was so indeed. They haue (with Celestine) of tres made treze, of three, thirteene; and of thirteene, three hundred. For euery one thinkes it fit to adde somewhat: so that Mole∣hils are growne to be Mountaines, and such a confused Chaos, and rapsodie of things huddled one on the necke of another, that there is no bottome of them, nor can there any ground for them be found: euery one incouraging himselfe by the additions of others, (one growing still vpon another.) And that wrong which euery particular person in himselfe was not able to doe, by a generall helping hand, and common consent of all men, is become more grieuous. There are some deceitfull and false tongues, which, like sharpe-headed Ar∣towes, and hot burning Coales, haue gone about to wound the honour, and consume to ashes the good name of my Parents; whence both to them, and my selfe, diuers notable affrents doe dayly redound. It is to bee imagi∣ned, and you may very well beleeue mee, that if it lay in our hands, to make our owne choise (but beggers must be no choosers) out of that masse of Adam, and first lumpe of flesh, I would haue scrambled hard for one of the best morsels, though I had been forced to goe to Cuffes for it: But there is no helpe for that; Euery man must bee content with that which fals to his lot: we may not be our owne Caruers. But since he that hath shared these things amongst vs, keepes them in his owne hands, and knowes when and where to bestow them, and what is fittest for euery man, let vs praise his holy Name. For though I had (God be thanked for it) my a 1.9 haltings, though I had naturall

defects, though I were not without my spots and blemishes, yet was I so fauoured by Fortune, that I was nobly borne; and that they lighted vpon a man innobled in his blood, both by father and mother. La sangue se hereda, y el vicio se apega, Blood is by inheritance, but Vice is aduentitious, yet clea∣ueth closer then the other, when it once takes hold of vs. He that shall be, what he ought to be, shall be accordingly rewarded, but shall not purge away the faults of his Parents.

First of all then, I shall giue you to vnderstand, That my father, and his Kindred, were a certaine kind of vpstart Gentlemen, that came out of the * 1.10 a 1.11 Leuant, who hauing no certaine abiding, came at length to reside, and settle in Genoa; where they were ingrafted into the Nobilitie, and had many large and goodly Priuiledges granted vnto them. And although they were not Naturals of that place, yet we shall here put them vnder that stile, as if they had beene borne there. His Trafficke and income, whereby he maintai∣ned himselfe, was according to the common custome of that Country; the which, for our sinnes sake, is growne now into ours; which infection of late, hath spred it selfe thorow the world, to wit, Vsury, Money-bankes, and pro∣fitable Exchange of gold and siluer. Euen for this, was he persecuted and re∣uiled, defaming him with that foule name of Vsurer. Many times hee him∣selfe heard that reprochfull word as hee past along the streets, it could not e∣scape his eare, yet he was of that good nature, and gentle condition, that hee tooke no notice of it, but slightly past it ouer. For which, they had no reason so to do, since that Vse-money (the more the pittie) hath beene, and is still permitted thorowout the world. I will not commend it, and (God forbid) that I should defend it to belawfull (which some do allow) to take money for money, vpon pawnes of gold or siluer for some limited time, or to take (the day being broken) the b 1.12 Forfeiture thereof, nor other close trickes and con∣ueyances: nor that which they call by the name of c 1.13 Cambio seco, a dry kind of Exchange. Nor that money should runne from Faire to Faire, where there was neuer any intercourse of men, or trading: for those doe but beare about them the voice of Iacob, and the hands of Esau; kind shewes, and rough deeds. And at the shooting of Ionathans flight, or some warning-piece or o∣ther that is giuen, the deceit is discouered. But such things as these, (though they laid them to his charge) I my selfe saw them not, and therefore cannot giue you any inckling of them.

But that which is absolutely vnderstood to be Cambio, an Exchange or tur∣ning and winding of moneys, is a thing indifferent, which may (as it is vsed) be either good or ill. And for such (though perhaps vniustly) I doe not won∣der, that (being it ought to be esteemed ill) it is not reproued. But that which is euidently good, being without any shadow of euill, that men should mur∣mure at this, and speake against it; this is that, which doth astonish me, and strikes me into a strange amazement. To say, when I see a religious person enter at midnight thorow a window, into a suspected place, with his sword in his hand, and his buckler at his girdle, that he is going to minister the Sa∣crament, were a meere madnesse: for neither God will haue it so, nor doth his Church permit, that I should be such an errant Asse, as to thinke that to be good, which is euidently euill. When a man shall pray, frequent vertuous exercises, heare diuine Seruice, confesse his sinnes, and often communicate; for men to say, that such a one is an Hypocrite, I can by no meanes indure it: and as there is nothing more scandalous to a good Christian, so is there not any wickednesse like vnto it.

My father had a faire large Masse-booke with the full number of Dauids 150. Psalmes, wherein he had beene taught to pray, (I meane in the Spanish tongue) and a great paire of Beades, whereof euery one of them was as bigge as an hazell nut. These my mother gaue him, which came to his hands when

she died. These he alwaies carried about him, you should neuer see them out of his hand, euery morning he heard his Masse, humbly kneeling with both his knees on the ground, his hands ioyning themselues together at his brest, lifting them vp towards heauen, on the toppe whereof his Hat hung. Some malicious people (by way of reproch) did not sticke to say, that he did pray in this manner, because he would not heare the Priest, and that he held his Hat so high, because he would not see him. But of this, let them iudge, who find themselues free from passion, and let them tell me, whether it be not a peruerse and rash censure, proceeding from a prophane kinde of people, that haue no care of their soules, and without any conscience at all. But the very truth is, that the maine cause, and first beginning of their murmuring against him, was; that a Partner of his in Seuill, being broken, and turn'd Bankrupt, and hauing carried away with him great summes of moneys that were his, he pursued after him, as well to remedy himselfe as well as he could of so great a losse, as also to order and settle some other necessary businesses, which did much concerne him.

The ship he went in was set vpon and taken; and hee, together with the * 1.14 rest that were in her, taken captiues, and carried to Argiers: where, what out of feare, and what out of despaire; feare, for that hee knew not how or which way to recouer his liberty; and despaire, for that hee neuer looked to get againe his moneys; for quietnesse sake, as one that had not the spirit of contradiction, or that was wont to gainesay any thing, he renounced his Re∣ligion, and turned Turke. There he married a Moore, a woman of perfect beauty, and principall ranke, with whom he had good store of wealth. For * 1.15 in matter of interest, (taking it in the generall, in which tracke I still treade, without preiudice to a great number of noble persons, and graue and princi∣pall Gentlemen; for there are of all sorts in all places) I will onely speake by the way, what I my selfe knew of some of my fathers kindred, during the time, that I traded and conuersed with them. They were very solicitous in * 1.16 meddling with other mens houses, and too forgetfull and carelesse of their owne: desirous, that other men should deale plainly and truly with them, whilest from themselues, you should not get so much as one true word. Wil∣ling, that others should pay them all that they ought, but of what they ought, to pay nothing at all: to gaine and spend freely, (light where it would light for them, they cared not who did wring for it) for the pawne was already forfeited, their day was past; and (as the Prouerbe is) à Roma por todo, at Rome there is an absolution for all offences. It afterwards so fell out, that my fathers Partner, to secure himselfe from after-claps, and to liue out of danger, laboured to take order with his Creditors, and to compound for his debts, vpon faire and reasonable conditions, requiring such rates and dayes of pay∣ment, as that he might both be able to liue well himselfe, as also to pay his debts.

When this came to my fathers eare, that had certaine and assured notice of * 1.17 it, he had a great desire to come away with all the secrecie and diligence he could possibly deuise. And the better to deceiue the Moore his wife, hee told her, that he purposed to employ himselfe in matters of Merchandize, which would turne much to their profit. He made money of most that he had, and putting it into Chekines, (a certaine coyne, that is made of fine Barbary gold) taking with him all the Iewels he could finger, and so leauing her alone, and very poore, he came his way with all the speed he could. And not making any one acquainted therewith, neither friend nor foe, reducing himselfe to the Faith of Iesus Christ, repenting himselfe of his fault, with teares in his eyes, being his owne Promoter, he accused himselfe, crauing pardon for his offence, and that some fauourable penance might bee inflicted vpon him. Which being inioyned him, and fully performed by him, he afterwards went

about to recouer his debts. And this was the chiefe cause, why they would neuer afterwards trust him, nor haue any charitable opinion of him, were his workes neuer so good, neuer so pious. And if you aske other reason, you were as good hold your tongue, you shall get none other from them, but im∣pertinencies, and answers nothing to the purpose, such as they haue often made me; Once a knaue, and euer a knaue: Nam qui semel est, semper praesu∣mitur * 1.18 esse malus: For he that hath once beene naught, is presumed to bee so still; and that he will neuer get out of the way of wickednes, that hath once made it his common walke. Not considering, that no man knowes, how God toucheth a mans heart, and cals him home vnto him, putting him againe in the right path, and whether (agreeable to that authenticke Law) hee had reformed his manners or no.

Here you see, without leaning this or that way, or without any the least inclining to any side, my fathers Mere-stones; the very limits, and bounds, that do define and determine him; On the one side, stand (as supporters) his couzening Kindred, and bankrupt Copartner; on the other side, his owne coozening of the Moore. And if it be obiected, that he himselfe brake twice or thrice, hauing other mens goods in his hands; if they likewise brake with him, it is no wonder, that he should not hold. For men are not made of steele, nor are they bound to hold like nayles: for they, euen though of yron, doe sometimes faile and burst in sunder, and grow weake and loose. These are your Merchants stratagems, their fine shifts of wit, which (vpon occasion) * 1.19 they practise when and where they please; especially in Spaine, where they haue found the tricke of getting. Nor is it a thing so much to be wondred at; there lies their skill, let it thriue as it will: we leaue that to themselues, and their Confessors, to whom, I doubt not, but they giue a large account of their doings. Onely God is the Iudge of these things; and let him that ab∣solues them, looke what he does: I see many, that make a common practice of it, but not a man of them, that hangs for it. If it were a delict, an euill thing, or a theft, it is a cleare case that it should be punished, since for lesse then sixe Royals, we see an hundred poore soules whipt about the towne, and sent to the Gallies.

That I might not vent my selfe in my fathers preiudice, I could be content to hold my peace, and to silence what I thinke: but if I will follow the Philo∣sophers counsell, I must then say, Amicus Plato, sed magis amicus Ueritas: Pla∣to is my friend, but the Truth more. I loue my father well, but I must pre∣serue the truth aboue all things. Conforming my selfe therefore to that Phi∣losophicall saying, let the world hold me excused, if I canonize this Case for one of the greatest villanies and rogueries, that was euer put in vse, and such as deserueth exemplarie punishment, and that in no meane degree. But per∣haps some one Merchant or other, that is his crafts-master in this kind of trade, will tell me to my face, Hold your hand, Sir, you are a little too for∣ward, in what Consistory (I pray) of the Pope and his Cardinals, hath Bank∣rupture beene determined, and condemned for a sinne? Who will put an Ideot, a Galley-slaue, a Rogue, to establish Lawes, or to censure those Trades wherein he hath no skill? But I now see how I haue erred, in speaking against that, which I cannot helpe, and whereof there is so little amendment to bee expected. For I would willingly indure thy taunts, and bearè thy reproches, so that there might either punishment or remedy be giuen to this honourable kind of theeuing, though my owne father should stretch for it, and giue the Gallowes it's first handsell. Let it runne on as it doth; for the reformation of such important things as these, and other of greater moment, grow daily worse and worse; their a 1.20 Cloake is falne (as it is in the Prouerbe) from off their shoulders. But what doth this belong vnto me? for me to speake against it, is to cry out vpon the Woolfe, where none will come to helpe mee,

to stoppe the Sunne in its course, and to preach in the wildernesse.

But I returne to that, which they layd most to his charge; which was, That he was apprehended and imprisoned, for that which thou thy selfe say∣est, * 1.21 or that hath beene dictated vnto thee by others. But for that he was rich and wealthy, and (as some say) for that he had an Alcalde to his father, and a a 1.22 Notarie to his Gossip, he by that meanes came off, and was freed. For there were sufficient proofes and euidences brought against him; and such suspicions to induce beliefe, as might haue seru'd the turn to haue turn'd him ouer. But one puls me by the sleeue, and tels me in mine eare, Do you heare, Sir? Suspicion is no proofe, and naked signes, are not of themselues capable of chastisement. I did looke for this conclusion from thee; assuring my selfe be∣forehand, that thou wouldst take them all to be old Wiues tales, when they meet at the Bake-house to set their bread into the Ouen; that they are all lies, and false testimonies, maliciously vrged against him. And seeing I haue a∣uow'd, and made good one part vnto thee, thou wilt not deny, but that I haue reason to defend the other, and to giue thee my reasons for it. I say then, that to haue Scrivanos, or Notaries, (I may so terme them) to be a mans Gos∣sips, is a bare title, that onely suites it selfe according to the Money, where∣with euery one wageth Law. For in blearing the sight, and picking a mans purse before his face, some haue the soule and conscience of your Gypsies, and will make of Iustice a matter of iuggling, with a hye passe, and a repasse, come off Iacke with a whim-wham; ordering things so, as they shall thinke good, and may make most for their profit: so that it shall neither be in the power of the Plaintiffe or Defendant to impeach it, nor in the Aduocate to dispute the right, nor in the Iudge to sentence it.

And lest that I should chance to forget it, I pray, hearken by the way to that, which in the Church of S. Gil, in Madrid, was deliuered to the Lords of the supreme Councell, by a learned Preacher, vpon a certaine Friday in Lent. * 1.23 By way of discourse, he ranne thorow all the ministers of Iustice, till he came to the Scrivano, or Notary, or Register, (or what in that kind you please to call him) which he purposely forbore to speake of, as reseruing that dish for the last seruice, and then with these words, he set it before them: Here my Cart stickes fast, and is so clogg'd with durt and myre, and so surrounded and wedged in, as it were, on euery side with filth and mucke, that I know not in the world how to get it out, vnlesse the Angell of God returne once againe to the fish-poole. I confesse (my Lords) that for these thirty yeeres and vp∣wards, I haue seene and heard the Confessions of many sinners; who hauing falne into one sinne, haue falne againe many times into the same. And yet all these, (by Gods helpe, and his goodnesse and mercy towards them) haue re∣formed both their liues and consciences, and become good liuers, and haue all put on amendment. The Wencher, that hath lyen at racke and manger, and stood at continuall Liuery, time, and a filthy Queane hath tam'd him. The Gamester, a Master of a Dicing-house, or Keeper of an Ordinary, makes him in the end to see his error; who like a Horse-leech, goes from one to another, sucking by little and little their blood from them. To day thou winnest, to morrow thou lofest; the money runnes round, and still it remaineth, but they that play, I am sure, remaine without it. The famousest Thiefe, feare and shame reformeth. The rash Railer, the b 1.24 Palsie, from which few escape. The proud man, his owne miserie doth dis-deceiue him, being conscious to himself, that he is but durt. The Lyer, the ill language, and the affrents, which are daily cast in his teeth, put a bridle vpon his tongue. The vnaduised Blas∣phemer, the continuall reprehensions of his friends and kinsfolkes correct and amend him. All these, either early or late, at one time or another, reape some fruit, and cast off (like the Snake) their old skinne, although perhaps (within) they wring hard for it.

In all, and euery one of these, haue I found some markes and signes of their saluation: Onely in the Scriuener, I misse in my account, and am quite out of my reckoning, nor doe I finde in him any amendment at all; but is iust the same man to day, that he was yesterday; this yeere, as he was thirty yeeres since; for he is still one and the selfe-same man: Nor doe I know to whom, or how he confesseth, nor who absolueth him: (I speake of him, who doth not faithfully exercise his Office) for they informe, and write downe that, which they thinke fit, and for two ducats, or to pleasure a friend, or to doe a shee∣creature a courtesie (for your mantles, are great meddlers, and your women, not the worst sollicitours:) they take away this mans life, that mans honour, and a third mans wealth; setting the gate wide open to an infinit number of sinnes, in their insatiable couetousnesse, in their canine and dogge-like appe∣tite, through the heate of that infernall fire that is in their soule: which makes them to swallow downe without chewing, bee it good or bad; right, or wrong, another mans goods. And because euer and anon, vpon euery slight occasion, they take that which is not their due; and for that the money that is put into the palmes of their hands, their fist beeing well greased therewith, is in an instant conuerted into flesh and bloud, and incorporated into one & the selfesame substance with themselues; they haue no more power to cast it off frō them, then they haue to shake off the World, or the diuell, who sit so close vnto them, that they can hardly be remoued. So that it seemeth vnto me, that when any such is saued, (for it cannot be, that all should bee such, as I haue heere taken vpon me to treat of) at his entrance into glory, the Angels fulfil∣led with ioy, will cry out one to another, Laetamini in Domino, A Scriuener come into Heauen, new fruit, new. For Scriueners are not pomi Paradisi, such fruit growes not there: And with this he ended his Sermon. But let it passe and goe for currant, that some good may be wrought vpon a Scriuener, and that there may be some hope his soule may bee saued, by changing his former course of life; yet for all this, fall backe, fall edge, goe which way you will to worke with him, he will be well inough able to answere for himselfe, by * 1.25 laying an excuse vpon his faults (for iron also may be guilded) and then will he tell you that these are the rates of old, and that they take no more but their wonted fees, that victuals and other things grow still dearer and dearer, and the meanes to maintain them, worse and worse. That the Kings rents and pri∣ces are variable; that they had not their Offices for nothing, but paid sound∣ly for them; and therefore must licke himselfe whole as well as he can, sauing himselfe harmelesse out of other mens gettings: And that there is no reason but that he should bee well paid for the imployment of his person, and his paines taking. This hath been the course of all ages, and for ought I see, is like still so to continue: Howbeit, Aristotle tels vs, That the greatest wrong, that * 1.26 can be offered to a Commonwealth, is the sale of Offices.

And Cleomenes the Spartane, being demanded how a Kingdome might come to be happy, made answere, When a King should not respect his priuate pro∣fit. * 1.27 But for a Iudge that comes freely by his place, to whom, they haue giuen the Title of gracious Lord, in hope that he will doe the office of God, which * 1.28 is, to doe Iustice, and to shew Mercy, (and therefore are called Gods vpon earth) that to such a one it should be imputed, that he sels Iustice; omitting to punish the bad, and to reward the good; and that hee will salue and couer a fault in a lewd fellow, or saue a notorious offender from the gallowes; I ab∣solutely deny it, and proue this my proposition by plaine and euident Rea∣sons. For who can thinke, that there should be in the world a Iudge so ill, so vnorderly, so impudent and so shamelesse (for such a one must he be, that will doe such things) tho a mountaine of gold should make his Mace, or rod of * 1.29 iustice to bend, and compell him to breake the Law? Howbeit, there are some abroad in the world, who sticke not to say, that this suing for Offices,

and seates of Iustice, goes by certaine indirect pathes, and by-wayes, vnusuall courses out of the common track, & vn-accustomed; or (to speake more pro∣perly) by false reports and forged Relations, whereof they make benefit, and grow thereby into great Estates. And after that they once grow warme in their places, & see that they are surely setled in them, they then make vp their stocke againe, and set vp for themselues, and begin to play their prizes, raking and scraping at whatsoeuer comes within their reach; like vnto the Polypus, a 1.30 or Cuttle Fish, that hath many clawes (like so many Wyers) to catch his prey. There is not a pore, or ioynt in all his body, but is either a mouth to swallow, or a paw to take hold, if you once come within his clutches. Heere he seazeth on Wheat, there on Barley; heere Wine, there Oyle, besides flitches of Bacon, cloathes both woollen & linnen, silks of all sorts, Iewels, money; frō the Hangings in the dining Chamber, to stoope so low as the spice-boxe in the Kitchen; from the Masters-bed, to the Mules Cratch; from the purest wheat in the granarie, to the very straw and chaffe that lyes at the barnes doore, choosing rather to play at small game, then to sit out. From which terrible gri∣ping, and violent hold-fast, nothing can vn-hitch them but deaths flesh-hooke. For, when the hand takes a bribe, and they once begin to be corrupted, there is no ho with them, they are marred for euer after by an euill vse, and neuer come to be good. And so they receiue with open hand all manner of Bribes, as if they were men in pay, and what they wrongfully take, were true wages, and lawfull fees. So, that they obserue not Iustice, they winke at theeues, be∣cause they offer vnto them the first fruits and tithes of their thefts: they haue gotten the fauour of some Courtier, to beare them out in that, which they haue bought for their money: wherevpon they relying, cast away all feare of wresting and peruerting Iustice.

Thus is it, in all your Officers of Iustice, as well with your royall Mer∣chant, as your Retayler; your Alcalde, as your Alguazil; your Iudge, as your Petty-fogger; with him that selleth in grosse, as him that selleth by retayle; your Iusticer is the Merchant; your Petty-fogger, the Pedler. And (for their better thriuing in the world) euery one hath his bonus Genius, or Angell of guard, either bought out-right for his money, (or at least so settled vpon him, that it can hardly be alienated from him,) for those impertinent necessities of the body; besides that, which God hath giuen them for those that import the Soule. So that they haue two Genij, (as men for the more surety wil haue two strings to their Bowe:) The Court Genius, which is the Protector of their bodily goods; and Gods good Angell, that is the Protector of their soules.

So that out of all this, you see something may be gathered, and happely a great part of it too true; yet for all this, we must not hence presume to con∣clude of all: But he that shall fall through couetousnesse into the like basenesse, which perhaps may be one of a thousand, and the same some base-born Slaue, an ill-bred fellow, or of a vile and abiect minde, thou needest not wish him greater harme, or worse misfortune, then hath already lighted vpon him; for * 1.31 he carries with him his owne chastisement; He is pointed at (where-euer hee goes) with the finger; he is murmured at by men; he is abhorred of the An∣gels; and both in publike, and in priuate, hath euery mans mouth against him: yet must we not for their sakes condemne the rest, or thinke all to bee made of the same lumpe. And if some particular person finde himselfe ag∣grieued, and complaine, that he hath receiued hard measure, wise men will consider (as a thing to be necessarily presupposed) that suites of Law, being in number so infinit; in nature, so differing; and in their ends so diuerse and dif∣ficile to be decided, it is not possible that one iudgement should content both sides; or one Iudge (though neuer so indifferent) please both parties. There will (while the world stands) be some querrulous men, either with, or with∣out

reason, haue they cause, or not cause. Therefore, thou must first weigh, and * 1.32 consider well with thy selfe, that these things, (I meane your Law-suites) will require a great deale of care, a great deale of skill, and a great deale of cunning. And if thou be wanting to thy selfe in these thy diligences, and take not the right course, the blame will lye in thy selfe. Nor is it any maruell, Que pi•…•…rdas tu derecho, no sabiendo hazer tu hecho: That for want of good informa∣tion, thou shouldest lose thy right, and miscarry in thy suite, so that the fault is not so much the Iudges, as thine owne. But that the Iudge should de∣ny to doe iustice, because many times hee does not giue sentence on his side, who perswades himselfe that he is in the right, it is because hee failes perad∣uenture in his proofes, or for that his Aduersarie made a bad cause good, and the other a good cause bad, by the euill carriage of the businesse. (For much aduantage doth consist in the handling of a cause.) Or else through the negli∣gence of the partie; or for that hee wants meanes and money to follow his suite; or for that his opposite is too powerfull for him. And therefore it is not good to taxe the Iudges, muchlesse those, that are seated in those higher Thrones, and superiour tribunall seates, where there are many good & choise men, euen the best that the Kingdome affoordeth. And suppose, some one Iudge or other out of passion, would rashly and vnaduisedly precipitate him∣selfe, not caring which end went forward (be it right, or be it wrong,) yet the rest will not doe so, they beare a better minde, and will not sticke to withstand him to his face.

I remember that a Labuador in Granada, a good crafty Clowne, did (for his owne priuate profit) follow a suite very hard in open Court, against the Lord of the towne where he dwelt. Thinking with himselfe, that he had to doe with Pero Crespo, the Townes Alcalde, or Constable (if I may so stile him) of the Parish, and that he could haue drawne the Oydores, or Iudges (appoin∣ted to heare his cause) by the eares, and led them along as hee listed; standing one day in the Plaça nueua, or the new-Market-place, gazing hard, & looking busily on the Porch, by which you enter into the Chancery, which is one of the famousest buildings (for it's bignesse) that is in all Spaine; and whereunto (for not onely the curiousnesse of the Arches and Vaults, but for the faire carriage of businesse) there is not any in these times knowne to be equall vnto it: after he had well viewed it, he perceiued that the Kings Armes that were placed in the Frontispice, had for it's two Supporters, Iustice, and Fortitude. Another Country fellow of his acquaintance, seeing him stand thus gaping as if hee had nothing to doe, asked him, why hee did not goe in to sollicite his busi∣nesse? He told him, I begin to thinke with my selfe, that these things are not for me, and therefore I could wish my selfe at home againe. Why (quoth his friend?) Why, said he? because Iustice is heere seated so high, that it is in vaine * 1.33 for me to looke to haue her stoope vnto me, and I am not able to reach vp vnto her, and therefore would I were well at home.

It is no maruell then (as I said before) that a Iudge doe not Iustice now and then to some men, though they haue Law on their side; but it would seeme somewhat strange, that a man should haue a sentence goe on his side, that hath not wit to defend his cause. But my father found sentence in his fauour, be∣cause hee had beene beaten to those kindes of businesses, and knew the trace of them, and was well able to hold plea. Besides, when hee had the torment giuen him, and was put (as we heere tearme it) vpon the rack, he cleered him∣selfe of those imputations that were laid vpon him, and attainted those wit∣nesses that were brought against him of publike malice, prouing that they had deposed against him vpon idle and vaine presumptions, and vpon weake and feeble grounds.

But heere (mee thinkes) I heare a Murmurer muttering forth his malice, telling me, That my father had a very ill report: That hee curled his hayre,

painted his face, and did diuers other things, which I passe ouer with silence, and willingly omit to speake of: That moneys were still stirring, and came tumbling in on euery side, besides gifts and presents, which comming from two opposite parties, continually crossed one another. Whereunto I may adde the sollicitation of women, who are not the worst Aduocates, or the least importunate Suitors. All which put together, leaue such a thorne or sting in my finger, that I dare not touch vpon them. O thou man of malediction, thou doest presse me too too hard, thou doest weary, & tyre me out; I purpose this bout onely, to giue thee the best satisfaction I can, and not to answer any more to thy replyes; for it were but to proceed in infinitum, and neuer to make an end, to waight vpon thy Sophistries, and friuolous questions. And therefore I doe not tell thee, that thou shootest at randome, speakest non sequi∣turs, and such like things, wherein thou canst not preuaile as thou wouldst, nor make thy part good; for as much as the truth thereof is otherwise al∣ready determined. Yet, when suites goe thus, they giue occasion of much mislike and offence; but there is no remedy, and we must bee contented with it, as things that can not sometimes bee possibly auoided: But God deliuer thee from such a Iudge, qui habet Legem in scrinio pectoris, that interpreteth the Law as hee listeth himselfe, and as his owne conceit shall leade him, ha∣uing neither Text, nor Doctor on his side to make good that hee doth; and from a Notarie, that is thine enemy, or any other of those kinde of creatures, that are bribed: for they will falsifie orders for their profit, and register things otherwise, then they were reported in Court. But in case thou wilt be carried away with opinion, and the voice of the Vulgar, (which is euer∣more * 1.34 the weakest, and least true, according to the subiect from whence it comes) tell me, not out of the peoples talke, (whereunto little credit is to be giuen) but to speake like a wise man, (out of thine owne discretion and iudge∣ment,) whether all that which thou hast said, be sufficient to proue, that my Father was (vndoubtedly) faulty.

Besides, if it be the receiued opinion of some Physicians, that the vsing of Complexions, and such like slibber-slabbers, is a kinde of infirmitie and sick∣nesse * 1.35 in it selfe, who can say, whether my father were sound or no? And as for your curling of pates, crisping of haires, and other greater dishonesties, and vnseemelier sights then these, I doe not commend them; nor allow of those, who permit them in Spaine.

But that which I saw with mine owne eyes, for that time that I knew him, and was conuersant with him, I am able to tell thee what manner of man my Father was. Hee was of a faire complexion, ruddy, well coloured, cleane and soft, was the graine of his skinne, and his hayre curled, which on * 1.36 my conscience was naturall vnto him: He had a full eye, and that full of life, resembling in colour the watry Turquoys. He ware a foretop, and those his Locks, which ouerspred his Temples, to giue them the greater grace, curled themselues into rings of hayres. And if God had giuen him these colours, as prope•…•… to him, was it fit (thinke you) that he should besoot his face with the same paintings? or is it likely, that he would make such slight reckoning of these faire pledges of Gods goodnes, & imbrace such counterfet stuffe to the ill example of others? But if it be true, as thou saist, that he made vse of oynt∣ments, greasie ingredients, slabber-sawces, gals of beasts, and the like artifi∣ces; and that those teeth, and hands, which did so much commend him, that all this, I say, should be done by the vertue of certaine Powders, Oxe-gals, Lees, Latherings, and other such sluttish and beastly confections, I shall then ingeniously acknowledge whatsoeuer thou shalt say of him, and shall be a ca∣pitall enemy not onely vnto him, but to all those that shall practise the like. For besides, that they are effeminate actions, fitting onely wanton wenches, and light huswiues, they giue occasion to men, to murmure against them, and

breed a iust suspition of basenesse in the vilest degree, when they shall see * 1.37 them thus dawbed ouer with clay, and wholly composed of those things that are onely permitted vnto women; who, because they haue not sufficient beauty of themselues, borrow it from paintings, and varnishings, to the great cost, both of their health, and purse. And (which to see, is a thousand pities) that your foule, and worst fauoured women, are not onely those that do this, but euen your fairest, and those that are most beholding to Nature: who thinking thereby to seeme fairer, and to make Nature appeare more louely in Arts dressing, begin this worke betimes in the morning in their bed, and finish it at noone, when the Cloth is layd. So that I say, (and not with∣out reason) Que la muger, quanto mas mirare la cara, tanto mas destruye la casa: That a woman, the more curious she is about her face, the more carelesse she is about her house; the repairing of the one, being the ruining of the other. If this then (euen in women) be blame-worthy, how much more shall it bee in men? O filthinesse, aboue all other filthinesse! O affront, aboue all other af∣fronts! that God hauing giuen thee one face, thou shouldst abuse his image, and make thy selfe another. Thou canst not twit mee in the teeth, that my loue to my father hath blinded me, or that my naturall affection to my Coun∣try hath bribed me, nor shalt thou euer find me out of reason, or in ought that I shall say, to swerue from the truth. But if there be any discharge or satisfa∣ction in a thing that is euil, I wil tel thee one curiositie, because it fals out patt for this place, and did succeed all, as it were about one and the selfe-same time. * 1.38 To thee it will serue for counsell; to me, for comfort, as a common •…•…uill, that goes not without its fellowes.

In the yeere 1512. (a little before Rauenna was sack't) there were cruell warres in Italy. And in this very Citty, (I meane Rauenn.) there was borne a strange Monster, which did strike the beholders into great admiration and caused much wonder. He had from the girdle vpward, all his whole body, face, and head, like vnto a man, sauing that he had one horne in his forehead: he wanted his armes, but in stead thereof, Nature had giuen him two wings like a Bat: he had figured in his brest, the Pythagoricall (Y) and in his sto∣macke downe to his belly, a well-formed Crosse, or Crucifix. He was an Her∣maphrodite, both those two naturall Sexes, beeing in a very proportionable manner well and truly formed: he had no more but one thigh, and to it one legge with its foot like a Kites, and the tallons answerable thereunto. In the knotty part, or locking ioynt of the knee, he had one onely eye. These mon∣strosities and vnnaturall shapes possessed mens minds with extraordinary ad∣miration; and those that were learned men, and great Schollers, considering with themselues, that such monsters in nature were vsually prodigious, and did foretoken some strange effects, did beate their braines, and exercise the strength of their wit, in the speculation and search of the signification there∣of, and what this strange Monster might portend. And amongst many other that were giuen, onely this that followeth, was well receiued amongst them: That the horne did signifie Pride, and Ambition; the wings, Inconstancie and Lightnesse: want of armes, want of good workes: the foot, of that bird of rapine, Theft, Vsury, and Auarice: the eye in the knee, affection to vani∣ties and worldly things: the two Sexes, Sodomy, and beastly filthinesse; in all which vices, all Italy did then abound. For the which, God did scourge them with that his whip of warres and dissentions. But the Crosse and the Y were good and fortunate signes; for the Y in the brest did signifie Vertue: and the Crosse on the belly, that if men (suppressing their dishonest lusts of the flesh, should imbrace vertue in their brests, God would giue them peace, sweeten his displeasure, and abate his wrath.

You see here, (in a case prohibited) that when the whole current ran with a troubled water, my father followed along with the streame, and did as o∣thers

did, and was not the sole and onely offender. And therefore more wor∣thy shalt thou be of blame, if thou shalt offend, hauing beene brought vp in a schoole of Christianity, and taught by example what to auoyd. God lend vs his helping hand, that we may not fall into other the like miseries: for all of vs, euen the best of vs, we are but men.

CHAPTER II.

Guzman de Alfarache goes on, in recounting who were his Parents, and declareth withall who his Mother was; and for our better instruction, describes the euill conditions, and bad qualities of a lewd woman, of Bawdes; of a sensuall and lasci∣uious man, and that the end of dishonest Loue, is the wasting of a mans honour, of his wealth, and of himselfe.

BVT that I may returne againe to my Storie, I told you be∣fore, (if my memory doe not faile mee) that (hauing per∣formed his penance) my father came to Seuill for to reco∣uer his debt; whereupon Law was waged, many offers made either to giue or take; some demands, and some an∣swers: and if he had not thorowly purged himselfe for his health, and found an euasion; that is, if he had not well cleared himselfe of being a Renegado, it would haue broken out vpon him into the scurfe of the head, or the scratches in the pasternes; all the fat had lyen in the fire, and he had beene quite blowne vp. But he had wrought such a cure vpon himselfe, and handled the businesse so handsomely, that they could not catch hold of him for hauing the Leprosie, or the dry scab. All things were so well made vp, that they could not find a hole in his coate, or make any marke or white, to shoot at him; so well was he prouided for all commers. Meanes were vsed on both sides, composition offered, but not accepted; the one being vnwilling to * 1.39 pay all, the other as loth to lose all. Of this spilt water, hee gathered vp as much as he could, making the best of a bad bargaine. And with that which came to his share (be it what it will) it so well serued his turne, that the cards once more were dealt round againe, and he come into very good play. His in∣comes were such, and his lucke so great, that in a very short time, hee gained not onely where-withall to dine, but also to sup. Hee built him a prety hand∣some house, he sought to plant and settle himselfe in those parts, hee bought him land of inheritance; he had a Garden in San Iuan de Alfarache; a neat one it was, and of much recreation and pleasure, distant from Seuill little more then halfe a League; whither many dayes, especially in the Summer time, he went for his passe-time, and made many banquets. It happened, that the Merchants made a Burse or Pawne for their contractations at the stayres of the great Church, (like that of Saint Felipe at Madrid) with a place to walke in, which went round about it, hauing a Parapet or Wall brest-high on the outside of it, to separate it from the open street, girt in with great Marble pil∣lars, and strong chaines of yron. My father walking there with other Mer∣chants, there chanced a Christening to passe by. And (as the talke there went) this child was said to be the secret sonne, or (to speake plaine English) bastard to a certaine person, that shall be namelesse. My father followed in the tayle of the troope, and entred in after them euen to the very Font, for to see and view my mother▪ who with a certaine old Knight of the military habit, (who * 1.40 for to maine the honour of his Order, liued by the Rents of the Church) were Partners in this Ceremonie: it was a metall'd thing, a lusty liuely wench, yet graue enough withall; her carriage was very gracefull, and full of

courtesie, her selfe young; beautifull, discreet, modest, and of a well compo∣sed and settled behauiour. Her handsome feature needes no other commen∣der, then it selfe. He stood steddily looking vpon her, all the while that the Exercise of that Sacrament gaue him leaue so to do, beeing astonisht to be∣hold so rare a beauty, if not besotted with it. For, to that her naturall beauty of face, and feature of body, (without any tricking or painting at all) all was so curious and fitly placed thorow that whole frame of nature, that one part helping another, and all put together into one piece, did make such a delicate contexture, that no pensill can reach to expresse its perfection; nor imagina∣tion conceiue, how to make it better. The parts, and fashion of my father, I haue already largely laid open vnto you: this goodly creature, (for they seeme gods and not men, who are not touched with naturall affections) be∣gan to perceiue his earnest eying of her, and did not a little reioyce in it, how∣soeuer she did dissemble it. For there is not any woman, (though neuer so * 1.41 proud, be she of high or low degree) but does take comfort, and chucke for ioy, to be beheld and looked vpon with an hungry eye, be the man neuer so base, neuer so meane. Their eyes being their interpreters, though their tongues were silent, spake plaine language each to other: manifesting by them their hearts; for soules on such occasions do not admit of maskes, neither will wil∣ling minds yeeld to the vaile and muffler. For that time, there passed no more betwixt them, nor ought else done, saue onely that he came to know, that she was that Knights Pawne; his iewel, his delight, a morsell that he kept for his owne mouth, ouer whom he was wondrous wary, and so tenderly affected, that he could scarce indure to haue her out of his sight. In fine, this Gentle∣woman went directly home to her house, and my father was at his wits end, not knowing in the world how to put her out of his mind. He vsed, that hee might come to the sight of her againe, many extraordinary diligences: but, vnlesse when she went foorth to Masse vpon some solemne Feast-dayes, he could not otherwise see her for a long time together.

The often falling drop, hollowes the hardest stone that is; and stedfast per∣seuerance still gets the victory: for continuance crowneth our actions, and disposeth them to their intended ends. Hee plodded so long on the matter, that he found out a tricke to serue his turne, vsing the meanes of a good old beldame, a reuerent Matron forsooth, an honest Bawd, one of my charitable Aunts: for such ministers as these doth the Diuell set aworke, and employ in his seruice; with which secret Mynes, he ouerturnes the strongest towers of the chastest women: for that they may better themselues in their rayment, seeking to gaine a widowes habit, a Huke, or a Mantle, and that their little Caskets may be stored with Boxes of Marmalet; there is no trecherie which * 1.42 they will not attempt; no filthinesse, which they will not sollicite; no blood, which they will not draw foorth; no chastity, which they will not spot; no cleannesse, which they will not fully; no wickednesse which they will not bring to passe. This good creature then, being courted by him with words, and rewarded by him with deeds, went and came to and fro with papers: And because the Principles, as they are the first, so the hardest to learne; and because the greatest difficultie consists in the beginning; and for that, Loaues go aside, if they be not well set into the Ouen, she molded the businesse well, vsing the best sleights she had. And because my father had heard of old, That * 1.43 money leuelleth the greatest difficulties, and makes all things plaine and ea∣sie, he did euer manifest his faith by his workes, because they should not con∣demne it to be dead and fruitlesse. He was neuer negligent, nor yet no nig∣gard. He began (as I told you) by this womans hand, to sow the seeds of his loue, and prodigally to spend vpon my mother; and they both, very willing∣ly, and very cheerefully, are ready to receiue all. And because vnto goodnes, gratitude is so due a debt; and that he who receiueth, is bound to a requitall,

and euery courtesie deserues its acknowledgement This good mother of mis∣chiefe did play her part so well, grew such a good Sollicitor, and followed the businesse so close, that her diligence meeting in a happy coniuncture, with the forwardnesse of my Mothers will, she still went adding more fuell to the fire; and of a little light stubble, raised in a short time a terrible flame. As we see many times, ieasting turned into earnest; and things full often to end in sober sadnesse, which at the first, were but begun in ieast.

My Mother (as ye haue already heard) was a discreet woman; faine shee would, but durst not; she had a good mind to the businesse, but yet she was a∣fraid: she was sometimes on, sometimes off; her owne heart was the Oracle of her desires; with that she consulted often, what were best to do. And thus disputing pro and con with herselfe, ya lo tenia de la haz, ya delenues. Somtimes (as we see in the handling of Stuffes, or of Cloth) she was on the right, some∣times on the wrong: one while she would put on a full resolution to doe thus and thus; by and by againe, she would turne to a new Coniugation, and vary the Mood she was in before. In conclusion, whom will not siluer win? whom will not gold corrupt? This Knight was an elderly man, much subiect to spitting, spalling, and coughing, he was troubled with the Stone, with sharpnesse of his Vrine, and other the like infirmites: she had seene him full oft by her sweet side in the naked bed; where he did not appeare the man my father was, he had not that vigour, nor liuelinesse, nor that handsomenesse of shape and proportion. And besides, obserue it while you liue, and you shal euermore find it to be true, That long acquaintance, and much conuersation, (where Gods feare is not) breeds wearisomnesse, and loathsomenesse at the last. Nouelties please all, especially women, who are louers of flim-flam * 1.44 tales, and for the receiuing and returning of newes; like vnto Materia pri∣ma, which neuer ceaseth to desire and seeke after new Formes. She was resol∣ued to haue forsaken the old Knight, to shift her of her old clothes, to change her smocke, and was fully bent to fly out, and to breake loose, whatsoeuer came of it: but her great wisedome, and long experience, which was heredi∣tary vnto her, and suckt from her mothers teat, opened the way, and presen∣ted * 1.45 vnto her an ingenious resolution. And questionlesse, the feare of losing her pension, kept her aloofe off, the thought whereof much perplexed her for the present, who otherwise was of her selfe well egged forward, and had a good mind to the game. For what lesson my Father read but once vnto her, the Diuell repeated the same ten times ouer; so that it was no such great mat∣ter now to winne Troy; there was likelihood inough to take it in lesse then ten yeeres.

My good Mother casts vp her account, and made this reckoning with her selfe: In this particular, my person loseth nothing, I sell no houshold stuffe, I waste none of my goods; and though in this kind, I affoord much kindnesse to others, I am therein like vnto the Candle, or the Sunne in its brightnesse, though I lend light vnto others, I haue nothing the lesse my selfe: I shall not want awhit in my estate, but be rather still at the full. Of whom I haue recei∣ued so many courtesies, so many gifts, it is fit, I should in some sort shew my selfe thankfull, and not be sparing to him, that hath beene so bountifull to me. Shall I be couetous, when he is so liberall? God forbid. I am now resolued what to do: I will sow my bagge at both ends, my iawes shall grind on both sides, my chaps shall walke euery way; and the better to secure my shippe, I will haue two anchors to one bottome; that if I should chance to lose the one, I might still haue another remaining to serue my turne. And if the mansion-house should hap to fall, yet if the Doue-house hold vp, if that stand fast, we shall lacke no Pigeons, as long as there is a Louer-hole for the poore fooles to get in at.

Hauing taken these things into her consideration, she treated with this her

bawdy Embassadresse, how, and when it might be; the manner, how; and the time when. But finding (after long consultation) that it was impossible to effect her desires in her owne house, and that there was no good to be done at home, for to enioy each other freely, & to take that fulnesse of content, which must satisfie the hungry mawes of greedy Louers, amongst many other shifts and tricks, and very good and witty deuices, and strange plots, which they had laid their heads about, for the better successe in the businesse, they made choyse of this which followeth.

The Spring had so farre aduanced it selfe, that May was in it's ending, and the Summer was now making his entrance. And the Village of Gelues, and that of * 1.46 San Iuan de Alfarache, are now the sweetest and the pleasantest of all that bordring Territory, none thereabouts was like vnto them; besides, the fertilen•…•…sse and goodnesse of the soyle (which is all one with that of Seuill, as next neighbour vnto it) which that Riuer of a 1.47 Guadalquibir, makes the more famous. whose watry gullets purling along the bankes, in-rich and adorne all those gardens and fields, that confine thereupon: so that with reason (if there may be a knowne Paradise vpon earth) sure the name thereof properly ap∣pertaines to this particular seate: So fairely is it set forth with shadow-cast∣ing trees, so beautified with curious bowers, so richly inameled with sundry sorts of flowers, so abounding with sauoury fruits, so accompanied with siluer-running streames, with cleere springs, glasse-labour-sauing fountaines, fresh ayres, and delightsome shades, whereinto the beames of the Sunne are at that time denied their entrance, and haue not permission so much as once to peepe in. At one of these retiring roomes of recreation, my mother agreed with her marriage-maker; her Sine qua, non; and some of the people of her house, to come one day thither to make merry. And albeit the place, whi∣ther they were to goe, was not that which my father was owner of, but was somewhat beyond it, neerer vnto Gelues; yet of force they must, to goe thi∣ther, passe close by our doore.

Vpon this care taken, and former agreement concluded betweene them, iust about the time that she was to come neere vnto our garden gate, my Mo∣ther began presently to complaine of a sudden and grieuous paine in her sto∣make, imputing the cause thereof to the coldnes of the morning, and the freshnesse of the weather, and did so cunningly dissemble the pangs and gri∣pings she indured, that they were faigne to take her downe from her b 1.48 Xa∣muga, which for her more ease in her iourney, was borne by a pretty little, but sure-footed c 1.49 Sardinian Asse. She feigned such extremities of torture, made such pittifull faces, and such wofull gestures (holding her hand as hard as shee could for her life vpon her belly, crushing and wringing it with all the might and maine she could:) then would she let them loose againe, then claspe them together, and wring each finger through anguish of her paine: other-while she would hang the head, as if she were fainting and ready to swoune; and that fit past, fetching a deepe sigh or two, she fell to vnlacing and vnbracing her selfe, that all that were about her (saue those that were priuy to the plot) did veri∣ly beleeue that she was wonderfully and mightily tormented, that shee made them to melt into teares, and to haue a compassionate feeling of this her af∣fliction. Diuers passengers chanced in the interim to come by, and euery one proposed his remedy; so many men, so many medicines; but because they knew not for the present where to haue the things that should be applyed, nor where to haue a fit place for to minister vnto her, their medicines were impertinent, and to no purpose in the world. To goe backe vnto the Citie, it was impossible; to goe further forward, dangerous; and to abide thus in the high-way, not commodious. Her fits increased, all stood amazed, as not knowing what to doe, nor what course to take. At last, one amongst the rest, that was there (who was laid there for the purpose) breakes mee in amongst

them, and as he passes the presse, cryes, Roome for the passion of God, make way there, stand farther off, lest you stiffle her for want of ayre. Come, let vs take her, and remoue her out of the high way; it were cruelty, not to seeke to cure her, and a thousand pitties, that so sweet a creature should bee cast away, for want of care and good looking to. Come, let vs take her in our armes, and put her into this garden house heere hard by, in this case we must be content to take that which comes next to hand.

All approued what hee said, his motion was applauded, and so generally well liked, that it was presently concluded amongst them, That vntill that fit were ouer-past, they should craue leaue of those that kept the house, to giue her entrance, not doubting but she would bee much the better, if they could be but so happy as once to get her within the doores. They knockt hard and thick, (as men vse to doe when they are in haste;) the good woman that kept the house, made show as if she thought her Master had been there: and as she came waddling along, bawled to her selfe: O good God, is it you, Ma∣ster? O sweet Iesus! I pray bee not angry, that I came no sooner, I was very busie, I could not doe withall, I came as soone as I could. These and the like excuses, her vnprofitable chaps mumbled to her selfe.

The old Hagge knew well enough what she had to doe, she might goe in the ranke of those rude Countrie wenches, that make curtsey, and cry, No chero, no sabo; No forsooth not I, I am a poore silly old Woman, seeming as if she did not know how to say B. to a battle-doore. Yet was she a dissembling Hil∣ding, a crafty old Carrion, one that had learned her lesson before-hand, and receiued her instructions from my father, so that shee was well prepared for the businesse. Besides, she was no Dullard, and for such kinde of imploy∣ments she was no Baby, but vnderstood very well in such seruices as these what was fit to be done.

And herein (amongst other things) the rich haue this aduantage of the * 1.50 poore, That euill seruants will not so easily come to the beck and bend of a poore Master, as well-disposed seruants will be ouer-awed by a rich Master, and wonne to his lewd commands. The poore man, (though he be neuer so honest) yet must he yeeld sometimes to the violent disposition of his wilfull and head strong seruants; whereas honest Country-Swaines, ouer-comman∣ded by their rich Land-lords, become Ministers to their lustfulnesse. So that the poore (though neuer so good) hauing ill seruants, are seruants to their seruants. And the rich (though neuer so bad) by beeing serued with good ser∣uants, are the onely men that are well serued.

My good old Woman had by this time opened the gate, and either not well remembring, or making show as if she had not knowne them, full of dissimulation, she fell thus vpon them: What a stirre, what a knocking is heere? The Diuell take you all for me; beshrew me, if I did not thinke it had beene our Master. The very feare whereof, lest I might haue stayed too long before I let him in, hath not left me one drop of bloud in all my body. It's ve∣ry well, what's the matter now, I pray? What would you with me? What is your Worships pleasure? Haue you any thing to say to mee? If you haue, let me know your minde, that I may make an end and goe about my businesse; for I haue something else to doe then to stand thus idly heere.

Then the old Knight answered, and said; Good woman, I pray afford vs some place in your house, where this Gentlewoman may rest her selfe a while: for a grieuous paine in her stomake, hath befalne her heere vpon the way: she, that kept the house, seeming to resent her paine, and to be much grieued for it, in her rude rusticke manner, sorrowfully replyde:

Now a mischiefe on all such ill lucke! O what a griefe it is to see, that any paine should proue so vnhappy, as to be thus ill imploy'd vpon so sweet a face, such a dainty bed of red and white Roses! Come in a Gods name, come in, I

pray, for all the house is at your seruice. My Mother, all this while, said not so much as one word, onely she complained of her griefe.

The good old Wench of the house, vsing her with all the kindnesse her Country-fashion could afford, gaue them the liberty of the whole house, bringing them into a lower roome, where, in a well-furnisht bed, there were certaine Colchones, or Mattresses; these shee presently vnfolded, and hauing * 1.51 spred them forth, and made all things fit and handsome, she presently opened a Chest, whence she tooke out a very fine payre of sheetes, that were neat and sweet, a faire Quilt, and a couple of Pillowes; wherewith shee dressed vp a bed, and made it ready for her to take her rest in. Well might the bed haue beene made, the roome kept cleane, all places sweetned with the burning of perfumes, breathing forth Pomanders, and other the like odoriferous sents, and a breakefast prouided, and many other dainties and delicacies put in a readinesse for to entertaine them withall. All these things, I say, might well haue beene made ready before-hand; but it was thought fit, that some of them should not be prepared; as also that the woman that kept the house, should not come at the first knocking, as likewise that the gate should be shut against them, and not be opened vntill they called, that it might not seeme to bee a set match, and lest it might chance to breed some suspition, and so the stra∣tagem a 1.52 might be discouered, and the maskers made known; for this dayes plot was meerely no other thing. My Mother, in this her pittifull paine, put off her cloathes, got her to bed, and called euer and anon for warme cloathes; which being brought vnto her, making as if she had laid them to her belly, she thrust them lower beneath her knees, and somewhat apart from her, because the heat of them did somewhat offend her, fearing lest they might cause some remotion or alteration in her body, whereby qualmes might arise and wea∣ken her stomake: With the helpe of these warme Napkins, she found her selfe much eased, and feigned she had a desire to sleepe, hoping she should bee the better after she had taken some rest.

The poore old Knight, whose chiefest ioy consisted in giuing her content, hauing placed all his happinesse in her welfare, was (honest Cuckold as hee was) wonderfully glad of this, and left her all alone in her naked bed. And hauing made fast the doore after him, that none could get in to trouble her, he went forth to recreate himselfe in those Gardens belonging to the house, charging his people to make no noise, and that none should come neere the doore, enioyning stilnesse and silence, and that none of them should dare to open it, till they had farther order from him, or that he came himselfe: And for that honest woman of the house, he willed her that she should watch by her, till she awaked, and that then she should come and call him. My Father in the meane while was not asleepe, but stood with attention hearkening to what was said, and lay peeping out through the Key-hole (like one that lyes in Ambuscado) of a certaine back doore, belonging to a little close closet, whi∣ther he had retired himselfe, till he could spy his time of aduantage for to sally forth, and surprize that desired fort, which he had long since so cunningly vn∣dermined.

Now, when all was husht and quiet, and that her owne Nurse that came with her, and that other old Bawd of the house, stood like two Sentinels vpon their Watch, ready vpon all occasions, to giue quicke aduice, by a certaine secret signe, which might serue in stead of a watch-word, when the old Knight should make head that way, then did my father issue out at that posterne, or little back-doore of his, that he might see, and conferre with his Mistresse. And at that very instant did her feigned pangs cease, and those truer ones of loue began to manifest themselues, giuing other kinde of twinges, and those kinder for the place affected. In this swelling kinde of sport they continued two long houres, two yeeres being not sufficient to

expresse those passages that were betwixt these two new Louers in this their merry fit.

Now the day began to grow hot, and was entring more and more into his heates, which forced the Knight to make his retreat towards the house. Which he did the more willingly, out of the desire which he had to know how his sicke Saint did, whether she were any thing better, and whether they should stay there, or goe forward, or what they were best to doe, these were the lines that led him along to visit her. Vpon his marching thither∣ward, the Sentinels shot off a warning peece: and my father with great sorrow of heart forsooke the Fort, where hee had set vp his Standard, and retyred backe to his Court of guard, and shut himselfe vp close, where he was before.

Vpon the entring in of her old Gallant, she made show as if she had beene fast asleepe, and was awakened with the noise that hee had made. And with a bended browe, and angry looke, casting her eye a-skew vpon him with a coynesse of language, she turn'd aside from him, accenting her words in a pretty kinde of mournefull fashion, pittying as it were and bemoning her selfe; Ay me; God helpe me. Why (alas) haue they opened the doore so quickly? Was there no care, no loue to be showne vnto me, in letting mee sleepe a little longer? I thought you, of all others, would not haue put me out of so sweet a slumber. But tis no matter, I shall one day; and with that shee sigh'd, and stop'd, as if she had some-thing else to say, studying more to amuze him, then to declare her selfe.

This good old Knight of ours, this patient peece of flesh, gently made an∣swere: By those eyes of thine, then which I adore nothing more, I did not thinke to wake thee, it grieues me (pretty soule) that I haue done thee that wrong; yet hast thou slept full two houres and more. Two houres? (replide my Mother:) no, nor yet halfe an houre: me thinkes it is but euen now that I beganne to shut mine eyes, and in all my life, I neuer had so quiet and con∣tented a napp, for that little while that it lasted; (nor did she lye in all that she said, for she gulled him with a matter of truth:) and looking with somewhat a more cheerefull countenance vpon him, she much commended the remedy which they had giuen her; telling them, that they had giuen her her life.

The old Knight was glad to see so much comfort come from her. And by consent of both parties, they agreed to celebrate their feast there, and to passe away as merrily as they could the remainder of that day, for that Gar∣den was no lesse pleasant, then that whither they intended to haue gone. And because their people were not farre off, that had the charge of their prouisi∣on (for the other house was hard by) they sent to them to bring back their dinner thither, and such other things, as they had brought along with them.

Whilest this businesse was a-doing, my Father found fit opportunity to get out secretly at the other gate, and to returne backe to Seuill: where, euery houre, was a thousand yeeres; a moment, an Age, and the time of his absence from his new Loue, a present Hell.

Now, when the Sunne was in his declining, which was about fiue in the Euening, mounting vpon his Gennet, as if it had been but his ordinary walke, he came to visit this his house. Wherein he found these gallants, he bid them welcome, and told them he was very glad to see them there, onely hee was sorry for the mishap, which caused their stay. For he no sooner came in, but they told him all that had past. His carriage was courteous; his voice lowd and shrill, but not very cleere: He made them many discreet, and faire offers, (for hee had learned a little Courtship) and they on the other side, remained no whit in his debt for kinde words: So that in the end, there was a great League of friendship professed and confirmed betweene them in publike; but a stricter tye in secret, betwixt my Father and his Mistresse,

for the good pawnes and pledges of Loue, that had lately past between them.

But there is a difference betweene Loue, Friendship, and Good-will * 1.53 Good-will, is that, which I may beare to one that I neuer saw in all my life, nor had any other knowledge of him, then that I haue heard of his vertues, or of his noble disposition, or some other worthy parts in him, which makes me to wish him well, and drawes my affection by a violent kind of motion as it were, to follow after him.

Friendship, we call that, which is commonly concluded betwixt man and man, or one friend with another, vpon some long Treaty or Communication, Similiancie in condition, or some other pledges of loue, and reall courtesies, that haue passed betweene them: so that Good-will, is said to bee betweene those that are absent; and Friendship, betweene those that are present. But Loue runnes by another kind of course; it steeres by another Compasse. That must of force be reciprocall, a commutation of hearts, a copy or counterpane of interchangeable kindnesse, a translation of two soules, where each striues with other with all their might and maine, to assist there more, where it loues then where it liues. And this takes its perfection from its obiect; the perfecter the obiect, the perfecter the Loue: but the truest Loue of all is di∣uine Loue. And therefore we are to loue God aboue all things, with all our * 1.54 heart, with all our strength, and with all our soule, seeing that he so much lo∣ueth vs. Next vnto that, is your Amor coniugalis, that Loue which is be∣tweene a man and his wife, and then that which is betwixt neighbour and neighbour, or one friend towards another. For lewd Loue, and that which * 1.55 is dishonest, (whose ground growes not from Vertue) is not worthy of this name of Loue, as being of a bastard-brood.

But hap what may hap, come what will come, fall backe, or fall edge; wheresoeuer this lewd loue raigneth, there are all your Witchcrafts, as no where in the world more; there your inchantments, there your Sorceries. This lewd loue is that, which (like another Circes) alters the conditions of men, aduentureth thorow all difficulties, and makes them easie; it is that a∣lone which tameth the strongest and fiercest Lyons. For to say, that there are Philtra, amorous potions, poysons of loue, and the like baits and trickes to force affection, it is all false: for this alone, is sufficient of it selfe to turne a mans braines, to peruert his iudgement, to take away his life, to confound his memory, to draw on diseases, and to occasion sundry shrewd fits either of melancholy, or of madnesse. Loue ought to be free, and to haue the libertie * 1.56 and power to consigne, & deliuer ouer al the faculties of the soule to the thing beloued. For the Alcayde, or Gouernour of a Castle, cannot be sayd to giue vp the Castle, when as by force it is taken from him; so hee, that shall make loue by indirect and euill meanes, it cannot be truly said that hee loueth, but that he is forced (contrary to his better will) and violently carried away with that eager passion of lust and sensualitie, which like a head-strong beast beares a man on headlong to his destruction.

The conuersation went forward, Cards are call'd for, and to play they go. Their game was Primera at three hands; my mother, she got the money, for my father was willing to lose to her: and it beginning now to waxe night, they gaue off play, and went out into the garden to take the ayre. In the meane while, the Cloth was layd, and their supper brought in, and set on the boord: they sit downe, they eate, and haue sup't. And hauing giuen order against after supper, that a Barge should be made ready for them, and tricked vp with fresh Flagges, and greene Boughs: when they came to the water side, they tooke Boat, and were no sooner lanched foorth into the channell, but they might heare from other Vessels, which went to and fro vpon the riuer, sundry Consorts of all sorts of Musicke, which made a most melodious sound; being an vsuall and ordinary thing with them, in such a place, and such a time

as that was, being in that season of the yeere that was fittest for it. In this manner they were brought along, till at last they landed; and being now come into the city, they tooke their leaues: euery one betaking himselfe to his owne home, and his owne bed, saue onely my fathers contemplatiue pate, whose rouing head was so full of fancies, that it could take no rest. My mo∣ther too, (like another Melisendra) full of musing and thoughtfull loue, slept with her bedfellow, her old Consort; her body beeing prisoner in Sansuenna, and her soule a slaue in Paris; her corps in one place, and her mind in another.

From that day forwards, such a strong knot of friendship was there knit * 1.57 betweene them, and continued with so much discretion and good cunning, (considering their ouer-venturousnesse, and the danger they might run into) as could possibly be presumed from the quaint wit, and close conueyance of an Easterling, dyed into a Genouese, and dipt in the Vat of Vsury, who knew well inough, how to put out his money to the best profit; who could cleare you any account, could liquidate and diuide you to an haire, how much losse there was in measure, from the wastings that arose from the winnowing, and cleansing of corne; how many graines lost in the refining of such a proportion or quantity of Metall; nay, she could tell you to a crumme, how much losse there was in an hundred doozen, betweene the bread that was broken with the hand, and that which was cut with the knife. As likewise from a wo∣man * 1.58 of that good talent, and those gifts and conditions, which I haue here∣tofore acquainted you withall, it is inough (if I say no more) that she was an Andaluz, borne in the towne of Seuill, and bred vp in that good schoole, where she prooued so good a proficient, that shee ranne thorow the whole course of her Art, and did all her Exercise for her Degree of a Whore; which she had laudably taken, by making her appointments betweene the two Quires, and the Naves, or Isles of the old Church. Now my mother had her fits and flings before this time; this was not her first flying out, insomuch, that not hauing any thing of her owne in her owne hands, that was woorth the keeping, that very day that she compounded with this old Knight for her company, and had driuen her bargaine with him, she swore vnto me, that she put ouer in trust aboue 3000. Ducats, onely in Iewels of gold and Plate, besides the moueables of her house, and her change of apparell for the setting foorth of her person.

The time (we see) weares away, and we must weare with it: that runnes from vs, and we must follow after it. Euery day that opens, discouers new things; and with the rising of the morning, arise new alterations. And let vs labour, and do all that we can, we may not be excused, nor can the flower of our youth escape in its due time the cutting Sythe of Death. For there is not the shortest moment that passes, that doth not shorten somewhat of our life. And the older still we grow, the neerer we are to our graue. The good old Knight (as formerly you haue heard) was an ancient man, and of a feeble * 1.59 body: my mother, young, faire, and full of wit, and knew so well how to prouoke his appetite vpon all occasions, that his disorder opened the doore to his death; for the old Lad, by ouer-doing himselfe, hastened his owne end. First, his stomacke began to faile him, then was he taken with a paine in his head, after that followed a burning Feuer, which after some few fits began to leaue him; but though that ceased, he had neuer awhit the more mind to his meate, he could eate nothing: so by little and little hee consumed away, and after some few puls, he died. My mother not being able to restore him to life, though she would euer sweare vnto him, that she was his life, and he hers: But all that protestation proued to be but a lie; for he was buried, yet she still liued.

The old Knight left many kinsmen behind him in the house, when he dy∣ed, but none of them of the same sute with my selfe, though they colour'd for

it; onely my mother and I sorted well together: as for the rest, they were p•…•…n de diezmo, cada vno de la suya: like the bread, that the people offer vp to the Priest; euery one with a different deuice, or contrary marke, that his loafe may be knowne from others. That good old Gentleman, (God be with him, * 1.60 and haue mercy on his soule) had but little comfort in this life; and at the time of his death, they on the one side, my mother on the other, while the breath was yet in his body, pull'd the linnen from vnder him, leauing him a soule in his body, but not a sheet in his bed: so that the sacking of Antwerpe (which for the cruelty thereof is growne into a Prouerbe) compared with this, was not halfe so rigorous, nor halfe so inhumane as this: and all (forsooth) for feare of a Sequestration to haue the goods deposited. But my mother, as she churned the milke, so she was her owne caruer; she was the Taylor to cut out her owne coat, and the worker of her owne fortune. Shee found a time not long after to put her hands there, where her heart was long before, and fell to fingring of his mony. For she had the chiefest of all his goods in her owne keeping vnder locke and key, and was Mistris of all that was woorth the ha∣uing. But seeing her selfe in danger, and fearing to be put to her iumpes, shee thought it better to steale, then to begge; and like a thiefe to make a start out of a bush, then hereafter to aske an almes for Gods sake. They were so nimble on all hands, that there was scarce inough left where-withall to bury him.

Some few dayes were scarce ouer-past, but many diligences were vsed, for to make these his goods appeare. They set vp Excommunications at the Churches, and vpon mens doores, to try if that would do any good, and make the purloyners to bring in the goods: but all to small purpose; for hee that steales, seldome returnes to make restitution. But my mother made her ex∣cuse, saying; That the Knight (God be with him) would still tell her, when he came to visit his moneys, and ran ouer his Coffers and his Cabinets, or had brought any thing into the house; This is thine, (sweet heart) it is all for thee. So the Lawyers were of opinion, that with this she might very well sa∣tisfie her conscience. Besides, they affirmed, that it was a due debt, and pro∣perly belonged vnto her; for though she gain'd it ill, yet it was not receiued ill. And howbeit the Act were not lawfull, yet the Compact was iustifiable. It was not lawfull for her to play the whore, yet might shee by Law haue what∣soeuer was promised her for the vse of her body.

In this mans death, I found that to be verified, which I had often heard before; That rich men dye of hunger, poore men of surfets, and those which * 1.61 haue no Heyres, and enioy the goods of the Church, of cold: So that this man may serue herein for an Example. For whilest he was yet liuing, they left him not so much as a shirt, saue only that which he wore on his backe, which of courtesie they were content he should carry out of the world with him. Rich men, for feare they should be sicke with eating too much, to auoyd hurt, hurt themselues; since by eating by ounces, and drinking by thimble-fuls, they liue by drams; dying rather out of hunger, then their disease. Poore men, * 1.62 in that they are poore, euery man takes pitie of them; one sends, another brings to them, & all of all sorts, and from all parts repaire vnto them, to giue them reliefe, especially when they are in that extremity. And when they find themselues leane and hunger-staru'd, they make no good choyce of their feeding, for want of some discreet bodie that should administer vnto them, and order them in their dyet: whereupon they eate so much, and glut them∣selues so full, that they cannot digest their meat for want of naturall heat, and so choaking themselues with ouer-gorging their pannels, they meerely die surfeited.

The like happeneth likewise in your Hospitals, where some deuout fooles, tender-hearted women, who go thither to visit them out of meere deuotion, stuffe their pockets and their sleeues full of banquetting-stuffe to carry along

with them, sending their seruants laden with baskets of regalo's, and delicate choice Dainties. And thinking therein to do an almes-deed, out of them cha∣rity, they kill them for Gods-sake. In my opinion, this ought not to be suffe∣red, but this cost should rather be bestowed vpon the sicknesse, then the sick, and be put into their Keepers hands, that are sworne to haue a due care of them: for by that meanes, (hauing the counsell of some learned Physician) these things shall be better distributed in their proper place, and make more for their good: And to doe otherwise, may proue hurtfull and dangerous. And in this their ill-dispensed charity, not weighing the good, nor the hurt; the season, nor the sicknesse; whether it be fitting, or not fitting, they cramme their crawes, like so many Capons in a Coope, till they can swallow no more, and so die of the throttle. Hencefoorth therefore, let it be ordained, that such things as these, be giuen to those which minister vnto them, who know bet∣ter how to dispose of them, or let it be giuen in money, for to supply other their greater wants and necessities.

O what a gentle disparate, what a pretty absurdity is this of mine, yet well grounded in Diuinity? how am I leapt from the Oare to the Helme? What * 1.63 a Saint Iohn the Euangelist am I become on the sudden, that I reade you such a Lecture? The Ouen grew hot, my zeale was kindled, and so these good flashes flew foorth; you may the better pardon this fault in me, because I haue made you some amends in being so short. As it came in my fingers, I tooke it along with me; it came in my way, and I could not let it slippe: so shall I doe hereafter, as often as occasion is offered. And looke not thou on him that saves it, but to that which is said vnto thee. For if thou be clad in a neat Suit of clothes, and that they sit well vpon thee, it is not materiall, whether thy Taylour were crooke-back't, or no: that is not a thing to be thought on. And thus much by way of preuention, that thou mayest either leaue mee to my selfe, or arme thy selfe with patience. I wot well, that it is impossible to bee well receiued of all; for there is not that Vessell in the world, that can mea∣sure mens tastes; nor that Balance, that can equall their likings, or giue an euen poyze to such vneuen humours. Euery one is in loue with his owne: and thinking his owne iudgement to be the best, is thereby the more deceiued: For the most of men haue it, for the most part, most depraued.

But I returne to my first station, whence I haue digressed: for my mother lookes for me, now being the widow of him that first possessed her; and dearely beloued, and wonderfully much made of by this second Owner. In this change and alteration of things, betweene these and those other nuptials, * 1.64 I was betweene three and foure yeeres old: and by the reckenings and rules of your feminine knowledge, I had two fathers: for my mother was so well learned in her Art, that she knew very well how to father me on them both. She had attained to the knowedge of working impossibilities, as plainely was to be seene, since she had the cunning to serue two Masters, and to please two husbands; to both of them giuing good contentment. Both of them did acknowledge me to be their sonne; the one sayd, I was his; so did the other. And when the Knight was alone by himselfe, my mother would tell him, that I was as like him, as if I had beene spit out^• of his mouth; and that two Egges were not liker one another, then I was like him. When againe, shee talked * 1.65 with my father, she would tell him, that I was his alter ego, that he and I were one, and so would haue seemed, if our heads had beene cut off, and layd in a Charger: and that I was himselfe, made lesse; and did so truly resemble him, as if my head had stood vpon his shoulders. But I wonder a God, in this re∣semblance of mine, (which a blind man might discerne at the first blush) that the mystery thereof was not discouered; that they found not out her craft, and searched not out the secret of this her deceit. But what with the blind∣nesse where-withall they lou'd her, and the confidence which each of them

had, it was not perceiued, nor any the least suspition made thereof And so both their beliefes were good, and both made exceeding much of me: the dif∣ference onely was, that in the time the good old man liu'd, hee was my true father in publicke, and the stranger in secret. And so my mother certified me afterwards, making large relations of these things vnto me.

And therefore I protest, howsoeuer men may talke, and seeke to slander me, that it doth no whit preiudice me; I heard it from her owne mouth, and barely relate vnto you what she told me. For it were great indiscretion and vnaduisednesse in me, to affirme, which of these two did beget mee, or whether I were the sonne of a third. Let her excuse me in this, who brought me foorth: for it ill becommeth any man to lye, much lesse to write an vn∣truth: nor would I that men should say, that I maintaine Paradoxes. But that woman, that professes to loue two, deceiueth both the one and the o∣ther, and there is no trust to be had to her. This is to be vnderstood of a sin∣gle woman; for the rule in those that are married is otherwise. It is an old saying, That two is one; one, none; and three, Roguery. For a woman, ma∣king no reckoning of her husband, (and this is true which I speake) he being alone, is none; and he, with another, makes one; and with those other two, which are three in the whole, make vp iust as much, as those two to a single∣woman. So that according to their reason, the reckoning is already made. But be it as it may be, and grant that this Easterling, this Iew, or this Moore be my father; for since that they haue said it, and euery one doth auerre it to be true, it is not fit that I should appeale, all parties being agreed. I call my selfe his sonne, and so I take my selfe to be: since that from that a 1.66 Mellon-bed I was made legitimate by the holy right of Matrimony. And it is much bet∣ter for me this way, then that people should say, that I am ill borne, and the sonne of no man.

My father did loue vs both with that true loue, as his actions shall suffici∣ently declare. For by the force of this his loue, he did tread vnder-foot the idolatry of that, which men style by the name of popular Voyce, and com∣mon Opinion. For they knew no other name that she had, saue the b 1.67 Com∣mendadora; and to that would she answere, as if she had had some Commendum conferred vpon her. But he not regarding any of these things, nor making any reckoning of the one or the other, setting as light by them, as the least hayre of his head, kept company with her, and in the end tooke her to wife. I would haue thee likewise to vnderstand, that he did not enter vpon this bu∣sinesse, a humo de pajas, suddenly and vnaduisedly, without hauing first well bethought himselfe of what he did. Euery man knowes his owne estate best; And a foole vnderstands more in his owne, then a vvise man in another mans house.

In this Intermedium, albeit this his Quinta or Garden-house, which hee had purchased, vvas a place of pleasure and delight, yet it vvas his vndoing, it was his ouerthrow: The profit little, and losse much; the cost great, as well for the keeping of it neat and handsome, as for the feastings and banquetings * 1.68 which were very frequent. Such kind of delicacies as these, and such places for recreations, are onely fit for those, that haue other large possessions, good sure Lands, great and certaine Rents, which may quit the cost, and make the loade seeme the lighter. But for those that are not well lin'd, that haue not a strong and able purse, and that haue not the world at will, these niceties, are that Moth that eateth on, till it fretteth out and consumeth the heart: it is that Worme in Wood; that Magot in the Nut, which turnes all into dust and rottennesse: it is Hemlocke in a cup of Ambar; and poyson in a golden Vessell.

And thus much by the way concerning that point; it is but a touch; and now we go on. What with suites in Law, what with making loue to my mo∣ther, and other expences, one charge drawing on another, a great part of my

fathers state was consumed, all was almost gone, he was vpon the point of breaking, and ready to turne a 1.69 Bankerupt, as he had often done before; so that it would haue beene no strange or new thing vnto him.

My Mother was a storer, a thrifty Wench, one that could hold her owne; she was no waster, but lay still on the sauing hand: what with that which she gained in her youth-fuller dayes, and what she had scraped vp in the Knights life-time, as likewise at his death, amounted almost to ten thousand Ducats, this vvas her Dowry, and so much had he with her.

This money did somewhat refresh his drooping estate, it made him hold vp his head againe, who before vvas vpon fainting, and ready to swoune: it was vnto him like a piece of Weeke or Cotton in a Lampe, dipt in Oyle; hee be∣gan to giue light a-fresh; he spent brauely, got him a Caroche, and a Silla de manos, a little chaire to carry vvith hands, borne with girthes vpon mens * 1.70 shoulders, as well for ease, as state. Not so much for any longing that my mo∣ther had thereunto, as for his owne ostentation and glory, that the world might not take notice of the weakenesse of his Estate, or that he was going downe the winde. In this kinde of fashion did he liue to vphold his credit, and rubb'd out as vvell as he might vvith his meanes; but his gaines did not equal his expences. There was but one to get, & many to spend; but one paire of hands, and a great many mouthes. The Times vvere hard; the yeeres deare; dealings, small and bad; little, or no Trading. What vvas well gotten, is wa∣sted and gone; and vvhat was ill gotten, hath not onely consumed it selfe, but his owner too. So that at last, all was brought to nothing: Sinne, brought it in; and Sinne (on my conscience) sent it packing. For of all that vvas left, no∣thing appeared. The light was now quite out, and my father beeing taken * 1.71 with a grieuous sicknesse, was arrested by Death within fiue dayes after: and so shut vp his shop-windowes, and departed this world.

Now, for that I was a child, and of small vnderstanding, I did not feele the want of a Father, nor found any great misse of him when he dyed, though I was then at that time a doozen yeere old, and better. And notwithstanding that we grew poore, the house was still well furnished with houshold-stuffe, whereof we tooke now a piece, and then a piece, and sold it away by parcels for to buy vs bread, and wherewith to eate. But the wealth of those, that * 1.72 haue beene rich, hath this property, that the remainder of their estate is al∣wayes more, then the best estate of those that be poore; & dayly more & more they leaue some prints, which discouer, like the ruines of Rome, what it was.

My mother grieued much, for that she had lost a good and honest Hus∣band, and found her selfe, not onely robbed of him, but also of her wealth, and growne now so aged, that she was super-annuated for any more Suitors, so that she could not help her selfe with her good parts; nor recouer her former credit. And albeit her beauty was not disfigured, yet her yeeres had some∣what defaced it: And it grieued her exceedingly, that hauing beene so many times sued vnto by many, that she was not now in case to be courted: And e∣specially of some such person, whose fethers she might haue pull'd from him; for otherwise, neither would she haue yeelded vnto him, nor I haue permit∣ted it. Euen in this also was I vnhappy, since that in-come which my Mother got (as Cats doe) by her tayle, did then cease, when I had most need of it. I said amisse, when I said it ceased: For she was yet fit for action; and would (when she was so disposed) put on her dressings, and weare her head attire, as being little more then forty yeeres old. I haue knowne since some old Maids (pus∣socks in comparison of her) of greater yeeres, and lesse handsomnesse, that would call themselues by the name of young Girles, and little pretty Maidens, and sweare (if you would beleeue them when they lye) that they came but yesterday out of their swaddling cloathes: And although my Mo∣ther did not shew so faire for it, she thought her penny good siluer, and would

not giue her arme for the wringing, or her head for the washing. And shee would rather die and starue for hunger, then bate an Ace of her former height, or faile one quilate in the touch and finenesse of her punctualitie.

You now see me heere left without a father, either the one or the other, our goods wasted, and that which is worst of all, bearing a high sayle, liuing at a great rate, without any person in it to gaine a penny, to maintaine this port. On my fathers side, a 1.73 Cid did not goe beyond me, he was no better a man than my selfe; for my possession crossed and diuided that Lordship. On my mothers side, I was as well descended; my great grand-fathers being men of great wealth, and of good esteeme in their Country. I had more grafts, then the b 1.74 Cigarrales of Toledo, (for by that name are those Gardens of pleasure thereabouts called) as I learned afterwards. I tell you (as a thing publiquely knowne to all the world) that my mother was her mothers owne daughter, and trode iust in her steps, she set her Samplar before her, that she might draw out some good worke from thence, so that shee went along in the very same path that she did, saue only in that of their child-bearing; for my grand∣mother brought forth a daughter for her comfort, and my father begot a sonne for my mothers ruine. If my Mother brought two into the net, my Grand∣mother brought two doozen, and made them like Chickens (if the world speakes truth) to eate together in one pot-sheard, and to sleepe in one Hen∣roost, and to be pen'd vp in one Coope, without pecking one at another, or driuen to hood them, as they doe Hawkes.

With this daughter of hers, (I meane my Mother) she insnared a hundred seuerall persons, vowing and protesting to euery supposed father, that my Mother was his child, and so to all, that she was like them all: To such a one, in her eye; to another, in her mouth; to a third, in most of the parts and li∣neament of her body: nay, to colour the busines the better, she would go a lit∣tle farther, in counterfetting markes and moles in the face, and other spots in other parts to that purpose; not wanting to tell some, that she did spit like them, and that she had it naturally from them. She had this (as she was ex∣cellent in many) cunning tricke with her, that when any of her sweet-hearts were present with her, she would call her after his Sir-name. And if two, or more were there at the same time, she call'd her barely by her owne name, without any addition. Her proper name was Marcella, which was bur∣nished and furbished ouer with the title of Don set ouer the head of it; for as she was called Donna Marcella; so had she her Don or Cauallero for her ser∣uant. For Donna, without a Don, are lesse compatible, and lesse comely, then a house without a bed; a Mill, without a Wheele; or a body, without a sha∣dow. As for her sir-names, being they were things that meerely depended vpon her mothers owne free choise and election; and for that she was vncer∣taine thereof, because she could not well tell who was the true father to her daughter: I must therefore giue you to know, that she did bolster her vp, and vnder-prop her, with the best titulary names she could deuise, throwing more noble houses vpon her, then a King of Armes could conferre with all his farre-fetcht Pedigrees. Which to repeat vnto you, were to reckon vp a Bead-roll of Genealogies, as long as any Letany, that is solemnly sung at di∣uine seruice.

The Guzmans were those, vnto whom she most inclined, (for she had a great liking to that name) and my Mother told me in secret, that in her opinion, which was no more then her owne conscience did tell her: in discharge whereof, she did verily beleeue, and was fully perswaded (by some likely in∣counters, probable ghesses, and other circumstances of time and place ium∣ping and concurring together) that she was some by-blow of a Cauallero, that was neere of kinne to the Dukes of Medina Sidonia. My Grandmother was a wise woman, a crafty old Dame, and neuer wanted to her dying day, but

had wherewithall to spend freely, nor was it any wonder; for when it began to wax night with her, and that it was time for her to shut vp her shop, then did my Mothers dawning of the day begin to appeare, and she had her at her elbow, to continue the trade for her, and the first bargaine that she droue, was worth to her betterthen 4000. ducats, which shee had of a rich Merchant, (with whom she held trafficke, and exchanged wares) that was newly come from Peru, who did deliuer her the money by basket-fuls, which was good and quick payment. She neuer made bad voyage, she still bore vp, liu'd in plen∣ty, and would not lose a iot of what was her due. No Christian could carry away her right from her; nor would she giue any first fruits to the Diuell.

Now, if we had had the like goodlucke, our misery might haue beene the lesse: Or if, as I was the onely sonne of my Mother, it had been my good hap to haue had a Sister, to haue seru'd as a prop to my Mother, as a Staffe to her old Age, as a Pillar to our Pouerty, and as a Port to our often shipwracks, we would haue bid a figge in Fortunes teeth.

Seuill stood very fitly and commodiously seated for point of profit, or for * 1.75 any kinde of incroaching-getting, and as much is brought thither to be sold, as there is to be bought. For there shall you meete with Merchants that will deale with you in all commodities, no wares come amisse. It is Patria com∣munis, and a free-common for all commers; it is a pasture, without inclo∣sure; a Gordian Knot, an open field, a Globe without end, a mother of Or∣phans, and a shelter for Sinners; where all cry out of want, and yet no man wants. Or (since not this) that I had been bred vp in Court, which is the Sea, that swallowes all; the point, wherein all lines meet, and the very center, wherevnto all other parts haue recourse: sure my abilities would not haue beene lesse then other mens; and as I should haue wanted no good parts, so should I not haue lackt entertainment. I should haue lighted on some good Office or other, got to be in Commission, and other the like places of profit and honour, wherein I should haue gone as farre as another, and haue found as much fauour, had my purse been as good: For that will hold any thing fast, and is the onely thing to keepe a man in. And had the worst come to the worst, yet could vve not haue wanted meat and drinke, but should haue far'd like Kings. For he that shall haue a good piece of land, or the like pledge, ei∣ther to impawne, or to sell, shall euer haue a chapman ready at hand, either to buy it out-right, or to lend so much money vpon it, as to serue a mans pre∣sent occasions. But I was an vnfortunate man, (as you haue already heard) and stood alone by my selfe, vvithout any tree by me, either to shadow, or to shelter me. I had many troubles come vpon me, the burthen was heauy, my strength weake, my debt great, and my meanes small. See then and consider whether it were fit or no, that such a young Youth as I, that began to crowe before I was scarce out of the shell, and to write man so soone, hauing such honest parts in me, and good indowments, should not bee made some recko∣ning off? The best help that I had, was to try my fortune, by leauing my Mo∣ther, and my Country, to see if I could mend my miserable Estate. I did so, and because I would not bee knowne, I vvould not make vse of my Fa∣thers name: but that of Guzman, which I tooke from my Mother, and of * 1.76 Alfarache, vvhich was the place of my inheritance, as also of my beeing. With this resolution, I went abroad to see the World, trauelling from place to place, re-commending my selfe to God, and well-disposed people, in whom I had put my trust.

CHAP. III.

How Guzman departed from his Mothers house vpon a Friday towards the Euening, discouering by the way the torments of hunger, and that which befell him with his Hostesse, recounting many notable examples of some Rules of ill gouernment.

I Was a fat plumpe Lad, well fed, and cockerd vp, bred in Seuill, neuer checkt, chid, nor corrected by my Father: My * 1.77 Mother (as you haue heard) a Widdow-woman, my selfe cram'd with Collops of Bacon, your finest Bread, and your daintiest Creame; your sops of Honey steep'd in Rose-wa∣ter, more lookt on and adored, then a Merchant of Toledo, or at least as good a man as he, it grieued me very much (be∣sides that the loue of a mans Country is sweet and deare vnto him) to forgoe thus my house, my kinsfolke and my friends. But being forced thereunto, I could not auoid it. The desire that I had to see the world, and to goe into Ita∣ly to take acquaintance of my Noble Kindred and Alliance, did much quic∣ken and put life into me.

I set forth, vvhich I ought not to haue done (I may be bold to say it) late, and vnluckily. And thinking to meet with some rich remedy, I lost all that * 1.78 little that I had. That hapned vnto me, which befell the Dogge in the Fable with the shadow of his piece of flesh in the water.

I had scarce gone out of the Citie gate, when (without being able to make resistance) two great Riuers (like an ouer-flowing Nilus) did breake out from forth mine eyes, watring my face in great aboundance, till it was bathed all ouer with teares. What vvith this, and the nights comming on (for it grew darke) I could not discerne any light of heauen; nor perceiue so much as a hands-breadth of earth as I went along. When I came to San Lazaro, (which is but a little way off from the Citie, I sate me downe there vpon the stayres or steps, by which we goe vp to that holy Hermitage. There I made a new muster of my life, suruay'd it ouer and ouer, and discoursed with my selfe thereupon. I was about to goe backe againe, for that I came forth ill proui∣ded, worse aduised, and poorely furnisht with money for so long a Voyage, hauing scarce sufficient to serue my turne for a farre shorter •…•…ourney. And amongst other my so many misfortunes, (vvhich vvhen they once beginne, * 1.79 come by clusters, hanging like Cherries, one at the tayle of another) it was Friday night; and withall, somewhat darke. I had neither supt, nor had any beuer that afternoone. Had I gone out of the Citie vpon a flesh day, although I had beene borne blind, my nose would haue helped mee to smell out some one Cookes shoppe or other, where I might haue bought a penny Pasty, wherewithall to entertaine my stomake, and to dry vp my teares, and so my sorrow would haue beene the lesse.

Then I began to perceiue, how much more sensible a man is of the good he loseth then when he inioyed it; and what difference there is betweene the * 1.80 hungry belly, and the full-fed paunch. All troubles passe the better with bread: Where good feeding fayleth, there no good followeth; no euill which aboundeth not; no pleasure that indureth, nor content to comfort vs. All fret and chafe, and know not why, nor wherefore. No man is in fault; and yet they lay it one vpon another; all runne vpon the haunt, feigning strange Chimera's in their heads; all is then nothing but gouernment; all is Philoso∣phy. I had a great minde to my supper, but the diuell a bit of any thing that I could get to put to my mouth, saue a little fresh water that ran from a foun∣taine that was there hard by. I knew not what to doe with my selfe, nor how

to cast about, to bring my self into some one Hauen or other. That vvhich did hearten me one vvay, did discourage me another. I found my selfe betwixt feares and hopes; a steepe downe-fall before mine eyes, and rauening Wolues ready to deuoure me at my backe. My thoughts began as fast to vvauer, as my feet did to vvander: at length I was vvilling to put my selfe into Gods hands. I entred into a Church, I powr'd foorth a short prayer, but vvhe∣ther deuout enough or no, I know not. Nor would they suffer me to dwell any longer on my Orizons; for the hower was come that they vvere to rid the Church, and to shut vp the doores.

The night was now shut vp, and with it my imaginations, but not the teares, that trickled from mine eyes: In this melancholy humour I fell at last asleepe vpon a seate without in the Church-porch. I know not what should be the reason of it, vnlesse peraduenture, that sleepe crackes cares, and breaks melancholy in twaine. As that Mountanese gaue vs to vnderstand, whogoing * 1.81 to bury his Wife, went bare-foot, and bare-legg'd; his Iacket with its inside outward; and so in the rest, all was Kim-kam, I know not how. In that mountainous Country the houses stand apart, and some of them very farre from the Church. And passing by a Tauerne, he perceiued white-Wine was there to be sold: whereupon he made as if he had some other necessary busi∣nesse to do, and sayd vnto them; On a Gods name, keepe on afore, my ma∣sters, with this vnfortunate Coarse, for I shall ouer-take you in a trice: So hee slunke backe, and went into the Tauerne; where taking cuppe after cuppe, he soop't so long, till he was starke drunke, and there fell asleepe. Now when those of his company came from the Buriall, and found him stretcht out vpon the floore, they called alowd vnto him; he after awhile being come againe to himselfe, looking somewhat heauily vpon them, sayd; Now a pockes of all ill lucke: pardon mee, (my masters) I pray, pardon mee; for, I sweare vnto you, that there is not any thing in the world, that causeth more thirst, or more sleepe, then sorrow. It was iust euen so with me; for it vvas now Sa∣turday morning, and the Sunne was some two houres high, vvhen I began to bethinke my selfe vvhat I had beene doing; nor should I haue vvak't so soone, if the Timbrels, and the Songs, and the Dancings of certaine Women, which came thither that day to keepe their Wake, and to feast, and be merry, vvith their dubbing, and their bawling, had not rowz'd me vp from sleepe. I got me vp, (though somewhat of the latest) hungry, and drowsie, vvithout know∣ing for a vvhile vvhere I vvas; so that me thought I vvas still as it vvere in a dreame. But when at last I vvas fully awake, and found all vvas true that I or saw, or heard, I said to my selfe; Echada esta la suerte, the Dye is throwne, God send me good lucke. And vvith this resolution, I vvent forward on my iourney; but the diuell awhit did I know vvhither I did go, nor indeed did I much stand vpon it; for all vvas one to me. At last, I tooke that vvay, which offered it selfe fairest to mine eye; let it lead vvhither it vvould, I did not care. * 1.82 Which did then put me in mind of those ill-gouerned both houses and Com∣mon-wealths, vvhere the feet performe the heads office. Where reason and vnderstanding doe not dispatch businesses; vvhere they haue not the com∣mand, it is to melt a mans gold, (come of it vvhat may come) and afterwards to adore a calfe. My feet carried me along; I followed as fast after them; come good, or come ill; ouer hill and dale trudge I. That happening vnto mee, vvhich befell a foolish Physician in Mancha; vvho had no learning in the * 1.83 vvorld, neuer studied any Physicall Author; but had gotten together (which he carried along with him) a great number of Receipts; some for Syrrupes, and some for Purges, vvhich were distributed into seuerall, either Boxes, or Vyols.

Now this cunning Leech, vvhen he visited any sicke-body, (and look't to be vvell payed for his paines, for the good he should do him) he vvould thrust

his hand into his Satchell, (vvhich he still bare about vvith him for these pur∣poses) and then vvould he take foorth one of his recipe's, saying first to him∣selfe, God dispose it to good. And so he gaue the Patient that vvhich came first to hand, vvithout any more ado; vvorke how it vvould vvorke, that was all one to him; he would put that still to the venture. In letting of blood, he kept no account either for the Veine, or the quantitie; but would cry, either a little more, or a little lesse, as he chanced to blurt the vvord at all aduen∣ture out of his mouth, casting himselfe vpon Fortune, rushing thorow thicke and thinne; like him that carelesly runnes thorow a Corne-field, where some Eares are trod vnder-foot, and some scape without harme; more by chance, then good cunning. I might then haue said to my selfe, as did hee, God dis∣pose it to good; for I did not know vvhat course I ran; I vvas ignorant of my vvay, nor could I tell, (if my life should haue lyen vpon it) whither I was bound.

But because his diuine Maiestie sendeth troubles, according to his owne good will and pleasure, and for such ends, as are best knowne to himselfe, they * 1.84 turne all to our greater good, if we can haue the grace to make true vse of them. They began now to come fast vpon me, and followed me at an inch, not allowing me one moment of content, nor affoording mee so much as a breathing-time from my cares, all the vvhile that I was abroad in my trauels: so that they neuer left, whither-soeuer I vvent. But these vvere not those, that vvere sent me of God; but onely those vvhich my selfe vvent seeking af∣ter. And there is a great deale of difference betweene the one, and the other: for those that come from the hand of God, he knowes how to free vs from * 1.85 them; and such as these, are Mynes of most pure gold, most precious Iewels, couered vvith a little Sward, or light Turfe of earth, vvhich vvith a little la∣bour may be discouered and found. But those, which men draw vpon them∣selues by their vices and sensuall delights, are gilded Pilles, which deceiuing * 1.86 the sight vvith a false show of a sauourie taste, put the body out of order, if not vtterly ouerthrow it. They are greene fields, full of venimous Vipers; stones (at the first sight) of great esteeme, but vnderneath are full of Scorpi∣ons: and lastly, an eternall death, vvhich deludeth vs with a short life.

This day hauing vvearied out my selfe with going onely but two little Leagues, (vvhich vvere the first that euer I vvent) it seemed vnto me, that I had arriued at the Antipodes, and like another famous Columbus, that I had discouered a new World. Well, I came at length to an Inne, full of sweate and dust; my feet surbated, my selfe sad, and aboue all, with my Mill in very good state to grind, my teeth sharpe, and my stomacke faint. It vvas about Noone, I ask't vvhat we might haue to dinner: they told me, That they had nothing but egges; it had not beene amisse if they had beene egges: for either * 1.87 vvhether the roguish Hostesse, through too much heat, clocking ouer them, or that the Foxe had kill'd the Hen, some vvere growne addle, others ready to hatch; and that she might not lose by them, shee had put them in a boxe, and had mingled them with other egges that were good. But shee did not deale so ill with me, God reward her according to her vsage of me: shee saw I was a young Lad, ruddy-cheek't, full-fac't, and plumpe withall; that I was a nouice in the world, and look't like a good honest simple Youth, and that any thing would serue me well inough: vpon this she ask't me; My pretty child, whence are you? I told her, I was of Seuill: vvith that, she came nee∣rer vnto me, and giuing me a chocke vnder the chin, she said vnto me; Now you little wanton foole, vvhither wander you? O good God, how did her stinking breath annoy me! with her very touching of me, me thought I had drawne old-age vpon me, the attraction was so sensible to my seeming. This made me imagine, that the vtmost of euils had now lighted vpon me, in mee∣ting vvith such a filthy vnsauoury Slut. And if my stomacke had beene full

at that time, as it was empty, I should haue spued out all within me; for my stomacke then rose vp to my mouth, and my guts had almost kist my lippes. I told her, that I was going to the Court, and vvisht her to giue me somwhat for my dinner. Then she made me sit downe vpon a lame Bench, and on the top of a little blocke, she spred a Dish-clout before me, iust for all the world, like vnto the Maulkins vvherewith she swept her Ouen; and this (forsooth) was my Table-cloth: my Salt-sellar, was the foot of an old broken Pitcher, or some piece of a pot-sheard, such as she sets full of water, to make her Poul∣try drinke: and halfe a Loafe of bread, that was blacker then her Napery. This preparation made, she presently powr'd me foorth vpon a plate a Froize of egges, which might more truly haue beene tearmed a Plaister of egges: they, the bread, the Iarre, the water, the Salt-sellar, the salt, the linnen, and the Hostesse, were all one; so well did they suit together. I knew my selfe to be a young traueller, and therefore held it discretion to make no reply, but to take all patiently; my tongue vvas tyed, my mouth muzzled, my stomacke empty my guts shrunke, and clung so close together, as if they had beene new∣ly milched. I was as sharpe set vpon my Froize, as a Hog is after Akornes, and slopt vp my egges, as a Sow do's Wash, I was so eager vpon the businesse. I made no bones of it, all went cleane vp together without any great chewing▪ howbeit, to speake the truth, I felt the tender bones of those vntimely Chic∣kens to crackle betweene my teeth, that they made my gummes to tickle a∣gaine. I must tel you truly, that me thought, (besides the ill-fauourednes of the taste, vvhich was not like that of other egges, which I vs'd to eate at home in my mothers house) this was but a coorse kind ofvsage; and such as I had not here-tofore beene acquainted with. But I did let that conceit passe by, and drown'd the imagination thereof in my hunger and wearinesse; conceiting with my selfe, that the distance of place, or difference of the Climate, might be the cause thereof, and that all egges were not of one sauour, nor of one qua∣lity. In conclusion, I digested all things so well, that I tooke it for a token of good lucke. For it is as proper to him that is hungry, not to stand vpon Sau∣ces, and your fine relishes; as to him that is in want, to step out into the high * 1.88 way, and to take a purse. No booty comes amisse to him that is in need. Beg, steale, or any thing, rather then starue.

I made light of it, my dinner was short, and as quickly dispatch't, and took in good part this my first course, though it could not well be courser. Vpon my bread I dwelt somewhat longer; I fell to that a little more leysurely, paw∣sing now and then betwixt euery bit; for it being likewise very bad, I was forced to take longer time; one morsell making way for another, that it might the more orderly descend downe into my stomacke. I began with the crust, and ended in the crumme, which was as tough as Whit-lether, and as dry as a Paste-boord. But whatsoeuer it were, were it better or worse, I deuoured euery iot of it; nor did leaue out of courtesie, the least crumme thereoffor the Ants to feed vpon, no more then if it had beene little, and good. That happe∣ning vnto me, which doth befall good feeders, when they fall close to a dish of fruit; who picking out first the best and the ripest, do (as in the eating of Cherries) eate vp the greenest and worst last, without once thinking of those that were gone before. Then did I eat apace, one bit (as they say) driuing down another, till I had made an end of halfe a Loafe: vvhich, if it had beene good, or but any thing reasonable, or that it had but pleased my eye, (for it was but poore browne-bread) I would haue taken in a greater crop, and haue filled vp my pann•…•…ll, with a whole Loafe of at least three pound weight. The yeere was barren by reason of the great droughts; and in such times as those, Seuill was wont to suffer much scarcitie; for euen in their better, and more plenti∣full yeeres, they haue had much ado to rub out: what hope can there then be, when corne is scant with them?

But it is not fit, that I should inlarge my selfe in this subiect, nor open the mysterie thereof vnto you, by giuing you a reason for it. I am a sonne of that Citie, a Towne-borne child: I will therefore hold my peace; for all the whole World is one and the same, here and there, and euery where, all alike. For no man buyes an a 1.89 Office for any other end and purpose, but for his pro∣fit, be it publike, or be it priuate; they will grate and scrape, be it by hooke or by crooke, to raise a fortune there-out vnto themselues. Few are they, that will part with so many thousand Ducats, for to do good vnto the poore, but to themselues. For ere they will bestow a farthing-token on a poore body by way ofalmes, they will first examine the businesse, and consult with them∣selues, whether it be a charitable act or no.

Thus it fared with a Regidor, who being espied by an old man, one of that Towne where he had to doe, to exceed the bounds of his duty, and to doe things beyond his Commission, call'd him vnto him, and told him; How now Sinior N, &c. Is this it, that you were sworne vnto, when you were admit∣ted at the Assembly, to be one of our Company, that you should goe about to picke vp your crummes a this fashion, and trot vp and downe to sharke for these b 1.90 Menudo's? To whom he made this answer; Doe not you see, how I comply with mine Oath, since I come for them euery Saturday to the Sham∣bles? I bought them with my money, and I had them out of the poore sheepes belly. After this manner all things passe, in all places; it is the world. They go diuiding the spoile among themselues; they will fetch flowre from all parts to make themselues a good Cake. Claw me, claw thee: to day for me, tomorrow for thee: doe thou giue me leaue to buy, and I will giue thee leaue to sell. They make restraints for selling of Victuals, saue onely at such set times and places: they set the prices vpon all things, as if they were their owne: and when they please they will sell the same againe at vvhat rate they thinke fit. For all is theirs, as well what is bought, as vvhat is sold.

Myselfe am a Witnesse, that a Regidor of one ofthe chiefest Cities of An∣daluzia, and Kingdome of Granada, had a flock of sheepe, an herd of Goates, and some other milch-beasts; and for that the weather was cold, he could by no meanes vtter his milke, but euery man fell to his c 1.91 Bunnuelo's. Now thin∣king with himselfe, that he should lose much thereby, if Lent should grow on, and should not remedy the matter before-hand, hee propounded at an open Meeting, or publicke Assembly, That the Moriscan Bunnulero's, or Fritter∣makers, did rob the Common-wealth. Hee rated them therefore at a lesser price, then it stood them in, amounting to little more then sixe d 1.92 Marauedis. Well, he was willing in the end to raise them to eight, allowing them rather a small, then moderate gaine.

Hereupon, none would make of them, because they could get nothing by the bargaine. And so in that space or tract of time, he spent the profits of his Cattle, in Butter, Creame, fresh-Cheese, and other such like things, till the time of yeere was come, that he was to put foorth his Flockes and Herds of Cattle into the common fields. And when he began to make his Cheese, then would he raise vp your Bunnuelo's to twelue Marauedis, as they were at be∣fore; but then Summer was comming on, and they shortly to grow out of season. He himselfe did not sticke to report this crafty tricke of his, to teach men how to become good husbands, and how they ought to beate their brains, to make shift to liue.

Now let vs returne againe into our old way, from which we haue digrest: for me thinkes it is not meet, that we should lay all the fault vpon the Magi∣strates and Gouernours of Townes and Incorporations, being that wee may distribute it as well among others. Let vs throw some of this vpon your Pur∣veyors, * 1.93 and Commissaries; and not vpon all neither, but on some of them, as it may be foure out of fiue, or so; who like Caterpillers destroy the Land, by

robbing of poore old Men, and desolate Widdowes, by deceiuing of their betters, and by telling lyes, and informing false-hoods to their King; the one for to increase their lands and inheritances; and the other, to haue them confirmed vnto them, that they may settle a good estate vpon the Heires of their house, and haue where-withall to liue in fulnesse, and in plenty.

This likewise is somewhat out of the vvay from that discourse which I ought heere to treat of, and requires of it selfe a whole and intire booke. I treat in this of mine owne life, and therefore will not meddle with other mens; but I doe not know, whether I shall be able, when a ball offers it selfe so fairely vnto me, to pull backe my hand or no? For there is no man that is Master of himselfe, when he is on horsebacke: How much more is a man vn∣able to containe himselfe, in things so generally knowne? Both the one and the other is generally imbraced, and all walke the same way, yeelding the field to the stronger, crying out Uiuat, qui vincit, let him liue that conquers; and he weare gold that wins it. But alas, how do we deceiue our selues? For we are those that are conquered; and he that deceiueth, is the deceiued. I say then, that Seuilla per fas, aut per nefas, either by right or by wrong, one vvay or other, I know not vvhich (considering her aboundance of fruits, and the dearenesse of them) suffreth sterrilitie, and scarcitie; and that yeere was there greater vvant and penury then heretofore, by reason of some secret disorders, and through the couetousnesse of those, who should haue sought to remedy the matter, who did study onely their owne ends, and to make a particular fortune to themselues. The secret of this mysterie past onely betweene some three or foure of them, many were not acquainted with it, who without con∣sidering the ends, tooke in hand bad beginnings, and diuellish meanes, to the hurt of their owne Common-wealth.

In all my trauels, I haue euer obserued, that these great rich men, and pow∣erfull * 1.94 persons, are like vnto Whales, vvho opening wide the mouth & iawes of their couetousnesse, swallow vp all that comes in their vvay; to the end that their houses may be vvell prouided for, and their reuenues increased, vvithout casting any eye of compassion vpon the poore young Orphane; or lending an eare to the cry of the distressed Damsell; or affoording his shoul∣ders for to vphold the feeble and the vveake; or opening his charitable hands to relieue the sicke, and him that is in need: but rather vnder the name of good gouernment, euery man so gouernes himselfe, that hee does the best he can, to draw all the vvater to his owne Mill. They publish good desires; but they exercise bad actions. Their pretensions are faire; but their practise starke naught. They vvould seeme to be Gods Lambes, innocent and harme∣lesse soules, but the Diuell onely makes profit of them; they fall wholly to his share; he, and none but he reapes the fruit of them: God has the name indeede, but the Diuell hath the shearing of them. There vvas good store of Rye bread, passable inough, and at a reasonable price; He that had Wheat, reserued the Flowre of the Meale for his own table, and the refuse he brought forth to sell in the Market, as if any thing vvere good enough for the poore Commons. Our Officers and great men turn'd to be Bakers, and those went about to burne and waste the Country, which should haue rather beene willing to haue been burned for it. I can not deny, but this was puni∣shed, and that there were many good men, to whom euill seemed euill. But in such necessities as these, it is not to be holpen by a few. Besides, the great numbers of those that were interessed therein, did crush those, that offered to stirre against them, because they were poore. And if poore, it is inough, I need say no more. Let euery man make his owne coniecture, and discourse that with himselfe.

Perceiuest thou not how impatient I am? Seest thou not that I can not

containe my selfe? and how that my pen, before euer I thought of lashing out so farre, hath slipt vpon this Theame. They gaue mee the yarke with the spurre, and I turned my head to strike where they pricked me. I know not what excuse to make thee, but to tell thee, that I doe as Carriers doe, that driue their beasts of burthen before them, who rush the man that meetes them against the vvall, or throwes him to the ground, and then say, I cry you mercy, Sir. In conclusion, all the bread was nought, although then it did not rellish amisse with mee. I did refresh my selfe with eating, and did cheere vp my heart with drinking, for the Wines of those Countries are exceeding rich, generous, and full of spirit; and with this I had pretty well recouered my selfe, and receiued new courage. And my feet, that were wea∣ried out with bearing my belly, though empty, and of small weight (as being lightly laden) now that it was full, and had his loade, made shift to carry my feet.

And so I went on on my way, with no small care to know, what knacking of a 1.95 Castannetas that might be, which made the Egges that I had eaten, to daunce in my mouth. My imagination was working to and fro vpon this matter; and the more it did beat vpon it, the more misfortunes represented themselues vnto me, and my stomake began to stirre more and more: for I could suspect nothing lesse then a kinde of loathing, seeing how ill they were drest, of what blacknesse the oyle, like to that which is in the bottome of a Lampe; a fowle Pan; and a fowle bleare-ey'd Hostesse.

Thus my imagination running from one thing to another, I met at last with the truth; and hauing gone another League, my fancy wrought so with me, that I could hold no longer. For as it is with your women that are with child, so was it iust with me. Eructations and belchings did come and goe from my stomake to my mouth, till at last I fell a vomiting, till there was not any thing left within me. And euen yet to this day, me thinkes I heare those little chickens, those poore pretty fooles, cry still peepe, peepe, within my bowels.

Being in this miserable taking, I sate mee downe on the side of a hollow Ditch, that seru'd for a fence to certaine Vines that were thereby; conside∣ring with my selfe the misfortunes that I had, and was like to runne into, much repenting my selfe of my ill aduised departure. But it is, and euer will be the fashion of young fellowes, to cast themselues away headlong, vpon their pre∣sent pleasures, without hauing an eye, or any regard in the world to their fu∣ture hurt, or the harme that will follow after.

CHAPTER IV.

Guzman de Alfarache, recounteth to a Carrier what had betided him with his Hostesse: And discourseth of laughing. After that, hee tels two short Tales; one, of a couetoas Physician; the other of two young men, how they vs'd the said Hostesse: And vpon the neck of that fals into a learned Dis∣course, touching the pardoning of iniuries.

TRoubled in minde, full of care and thoughts, and pen∣siuely musing with my self, I lay all along on the ground, leaning mine head vpon mine arme; when by chance a Carrier hapt to passe by, who went along with empty Mules, which were to be laden with Wine at the Vil∣lage called Caçalla de la Sierra. He seeing me sitting in this melancholly manner, a Yong Strippling, all alone, afflicted in minde, handsome in my person, and reasona∣bly well clad, as one that had beene much made of heretofore, began (as I then conceiued) to pitie my troubles, and to take compassion of me, asking me, what the matter was, that I was so sad. I told him all that had hapned vnto me in my Inne; and had scarce made an end of my Tale, when he brake forth into such a Youle of laughing, that he was ready to burst, and I to breake forth into choller. And that face of mine, which before was as pale as ashes, was set on fire by those coales of anger, which were kindled in my brest a∣gainst him. But because I was not then a Cock that stood vpon my owne dunghill, nor scarce mine owne man; as also for that I found my selfe dis∣armed, and as it were in a desart by my selfe: I held my tongue, and said no∣thing vnto him, because I could not crowe as I would. For it is discretion to dissemble that, which a man cannot helpe; Patiently brooking this his rather grinning, then laughing: And those ends that are doubtfull in their obtaining, must be throughly first consulted on, and be reduced to some certain grounds and Principles. For opinions are various, and honours vitreous, glassy, and subiect to breaking. And if I should there, at that time, haue mis-behaued my selfe, happely he would haue laid hold on me first, and by aduenturing to gaine vpon him, I might haue runne the hazzard, if not the certainty of lo∣sing all. For Competition is a thing to be auoided. But if it cannot be auoided, but that we must needs haue it, let it be with our equals; and rather of the two, with thy Superiours, then thy inferiours; but haue a care that thou doe not ouer-match thy selfe with those that are too strong for thee, lest they trample vpon thee, and tread thee vnder foot. Euery thing hath its Vice, and there must an account be giuen of it. But although I did forbeare him; yet he had so heated me, that out of the warmth of that choller, which yet boyled within me, I could not choose but tell him:

My friend; Doe you see me coated for a Foole; or with a Fooles Cap on my head? Or what else is it that occasions you thus to laugh? He, rather in∣creasing, then ceasing his laughter, as if it had beene a taske put vpon him, or * 1.96 a part that he had beene enioyned to play: so fast it came from him, that ga∣ping with his mouth fist-wide, he let his head fall on tone side, (for hee was not able for laughing to hold it vpright:) and laying both his hands as hard as he was able, one while vpon his belly, another on his sides, for feare of burst∣ing; he was scarce able to sit vpon his Beast for falling, and seemed with his extreme straining of himselfe, as if he would at euery bout haue come tum∣bled downe on the ground.

I was about to answere him some three or foure times, but I could neuer come to doe it: for I no sooner offered to speake vnto him, but he presently

fell a fresh to his laughing till he chuck't againe; so did his pot runne ouer, when it once fell a boyling.

God be thanked yet at last, after this great invndation and sudden breaking forth of waters, (that those ouer-flowings of Tagus could not be greater) be∣gan to fall by little and little, by patches and by pieces, now a word & then a word, as well as he could, hauing taken a little breath, deliuering his minde by halfes, like one that stumbles and goes, and goes and stumbles, he blunderd forth these words vnto me: My good Youth, I doe not laugh at your ill suc∣cesse, nor doe your mis-fortunes glad me any whit at all: but I laugh at that, which hapned to this woman scarce two houres since. Did you happely meet with two young fellowes, that were Camerades, and walkt along together, and seemed by their habit to be Souldiers; the one clad in a medley greene suite; the other in a gray or ash-colour'd cloth, with a white doublet cut to the skin? These two (quoth I) by your description, if my memory doe not faile me, when I left the Inne, remained there behinde, beeing newly come in, when I went my way, and called for their dinner. These then (said the Carrier) are those that haue reuenged your quarrell. And the iest, that they put vpon the Hostesse, is that which I now laugh at. But if you goe my way, get vp vpon one of these beasts; & as we ride along I will tell you how it was. I thankt him for his kindnesse, as I had good cause so to doe, considering my present necessitie, rendring him such good language, as I thought might make sufficient paiment for such a courtesie. For good words requite good workes, when a man is not able to pay him, that he is beholding vnto, in better mo∣ney; * 1.97 and that he is in necessitie, to whom the kindnesse is done.

Mounting my selfe then vpon this ill accoutred Gennet, howbeit it was no better then a plaine Asse with a pack-saddle; yet it seemed to me a Silla de manos, or easie hand-Chayre, a Litter or a Coach, drawne with foure horses. For some succour, in case of necessitie, although it bee little, yet it helpeth much; and that which is but a triffle to him that giues, is an infinit supply to him that wants: it is like a little stone, that is throwne into a smooth & cleere water, which makes not only many, but great circles also. And then is a kind∣nesse most to be esteemed, when it comes in a good coniuncture, albeit it al∣wayes comes well, and neuer too late, so as it come at last. Now (me thought) I saw Heauen opened, and my honest Carrier appearing vnto me in the shape of an Angell. His face was as ioyfull vnto me, as that of the desired Physician is to him that is afflicted with sicknesse. I say, desired; because (as perhaps you may haue heard) a Physician hath three faces. Of a man, when wee see him, and haue no need of him: Of an Angell, when we are sicke, and cannot bee * 1.98 without him; and of a Diuell, when at one and the selfe-same time our sick∣nesse, and our purse ends together, and yet for his priuate interest and to gaine a fee, he followes vs with dayly visits. As it hapned to a Gentleman in Ma∣drid, * 1.99 who hauing sent for a Physician, for a certaine infirmity, where-withall he was troubled, euery visit that he made, gaue him a Crowne. The humour ceased; but his Physician was not in the humour to cease from comming vnto him.

Now the Gentleman, when he saw that he was thorow well, and that his Physician did still continue his Visits, he got him vp one morning very early, and went to Church.

Now, when the Physician came to visit him, and found him not at home, he asked his seruant whither he was gone. He (like a foole as he was) for there are seruants still inow for their Masters hurt, but few for their profit, told him, that he was gone forth to Masse to such a Church. My nimble Doctor, putting spurres to his Mule for to make the more haste, went with all speed to the said Church, and searching for him, at last he found him; and then said vnto him; What a-Gods name, Sir, doe you meane to commit so great an

excesse, as to go abroad without my leaue? The Gentleman, who knew well inough what he came for, and seeing that now he had no more need of him, put his hand in his pocket, tooke out his purse, drew foorth a Crowne, and putting it in his hand, told him; Here, take it; (master Doctor) for by the faith of a Gentleman, I now perceiue, that this sacred place cannot priuiledge me from you.

See here, how farre the couetousnesse of a foolish Physician carries him; and how farre the vertue of a quicke and noble disposition, this other Gentleman.

I betooke me to my beast, and fetching my rise, I got vp vpon his backe, and away vve went together: and wee had scarce gone a furlong from the place, but we met with two Church-men that sate there hard by, expecting some passengers, that would carry them on horse-backe towards Caçalla, (for there was their dwelling) and had beene at Seuill about a certaine Suit in Law. By their carriage and their countenance you might well know their good life and their pouertie. They were well spoken men, very kind, and very cour∣teous; the one was about some 36. yeeres of age, the other aboue fifty. They made the Carrier stay, they agreed with him; and, doing as I had done be∣fore, they got each of them vp vpon his Asse, and wee proceeded on our iourney.

But all this while, so great was the laughter of this honest man, and so ex∣cessiue beyond all measure, that he could scarce go on with his tale: for be∣twixt euery word he would let go the sluce of his sides, whilest like a Flood that furiously breakes foorth, his laughing suddenly flushes out vpon him: and as in houses, where men vittaile vpon the way, a man shall meet many times with a bare couple of Hens onely amongst fiue hundred persons; and see what they want in good cheere, they make vp with good mirth: so this mans laughter was three-fold more then his discourse; so farre did his spleene out-talke his tongue. These his delayes were so many Speares in my sides; euery deferring was a farther prouoking: so that I was all this while vpon thornes. For he that hath a longing desire to know a thing, vvould willingly haue one word come treading on the heeles of another; and with a quicke and nimble pace come (if it were possible) huddling all at once out of the mouth.

Neuer any woman that hath beene with child, did euer more earnestly long for any thing, then I did to know the successe of this businesse. Mee thought I did consume and pine away while I vvas held in this suspence, I could haue burst for anger, that my eares vvere put off, from hauing a pre∣sent hearing: for I could not but expect, that some great matter must arise from such a glorious and ingenious Fabricke, as this made show to be. I be∣gan to conceit vvith my selfe, whether some fire falne from heauen, had con∣sumed the house, and all that was therein: or whether those young fellowes had set the house on fire, and rosted my Hostesse aliue: or at least (for a lesser reuenge could not be taken ofso vile a creature) whether or no they had stript her starke naked, and hung her vp by the heeles vpon an Oliue-tree, and gi∣uen her some thousand lashes, till they had left her for dead: for lesser things then these, his laughter could not promise. Howbeit, I must confesse, had I beene then so wise and considerate, as I should haue beene, I ought not to haue * 1.100 look't for any great matter, or to presume that any good thing could proceed from one, that was thus immoderate in his laughter. For euen that which is moderate, doth in a kind of manner, accuse a man of lightnesse, argue indis∣cretion, want of iudgement, and store of vanity: but that vvhich is dis-com∣posed, and out of Reasons compasse, is (though there be neuer so much occa∣sion offered) the marke of a mad-man, and the onely note of an absolute Asse, or complete Foole.

At last (God be thanked) this Mountaine brought foorth its Mouse: in

conclusion, he told vs, (but with a thousand stops and iumpes, and his won∣ted bounds and curuets of laughing) that he hauing stayd to drinke a little * 1.101 wine, and to tarry the comming of a Companion of his, whom he had left be∣hind, he perceiued, that the Hostesse of the house brought in on a Plate, a Froyze of sixe egges; three of them starke naught, the other not so bad; which she set before them: and going about to diuide this their Froyze or Tansey in twaine, it seemed vnto them, that it made a certaine kind of resistance, refu∣sing (as it were) to be parted, one piece hanging (like torne ragges) at the taile of another. Whereupon, because this seemed to be somewhat a bad signe, and such as they did not vvell like of; they began to search a little more narrowly, vvhat should be the cause thereof. They vvere not long in discoue∣ring the truth; for they might discern certaine knobs and knurs in it; which, had it bin any body but my self, he might at first sight haue seen how the world went, and vvhere the fault lay; but being a young Lad, I should easily haue swallowed such a Gudgeon, and should in good manners haue slightly past it ouer. But these vvere a little more curious, and more Court-like, and sifted it out so finely, that they found to their seeming, three little round bumps, like three little Chickens heads all clotted together. And this cleared the doubt; for finding the bils of these pretty fooles somewhat hard growne and none of the tendrest, the pad that lay in the straw vvas presently perceiued. And they taking one of them betweene their fingers, going about to crush and breake it in pieces, it put foorth his bill, and began (though dead) to peepe foorth its head, and spake alowd vnto them, and told them plainely, vvhence, and what he vvas. So they couered the Plate, clapping another thereupon, and vvhispered somewhat in secret amongst themselues: vvhat it vvas, I then knew not, howbeit afterwards it did manifest it selfe; for presently one of them called out, and sayd; Hostesse, haue you any thing else for vs? she had a little before (in their sight) bought a a 1.102 Sabalo, (vvhich is a Fish like a Shad) which she had put vpon the ground for to rub off the scales of it, telling them; I haue such a Fish here, vvhereof (if you vvill) I shall spare you a slice or two, other meat haue I none. I pray (mother) said they, broyle it vs quickly then, for we must be gone; and if it stand vvith your good liking, set a price what you will haue for it all, and vve vvill carry it home along vvith vs. She said, it being cut out into pieces, euery slice wil yeeld me a Royal, and I cannot bate you a farthing of it. They said, No: they thought it vvas too much, one Royall profit in the vvhole, vvere very good gaines.

At last they agreed for two Royals; for a bad pay-master neuer reckons vvhat he receiueth, nor stands a hucking for that, vvhich he is to take vp vp∣on trust. It vvent against her heart to let them haue it so, howbeit the gaine of two Royals in foure, for so short a time as she layd it out of her purse, did worke much vvith her, and made her vvilling at last to let them haue it. She cuts it out into pieces, broyles two of them, they eate it, the rest they vvrapt vp in a Napkin of her owne; and after they had fill'd their bellies, being not vvell contented with their ill vsage, in stead of paying their Reckoning, they reckoned vvithout paying. For one of the young fellowes, taking the Froyze of egges in his right hand, vvent directly thither where the old vvoman was vnpanching the belly of an old rotten sheepe, that had dyed in some ditch, to make thereof Tripes and Chitterlings, or (as the Spanish word hath it) b 1.103 Mon∣dongo's; and vvith all the force that he had, threw it full in the face of her, see∣ling vp both her eyes therewith, which looked like an old vvall all to bedaw∣bed with rough-cast. Which plaistred eyes of hers, he had made so blind and painefull vnto her, that not daring to open them, she cryed out, as if shee had beene mad, whilest this his other Companion, behauing himselfe, as if he had rebuked him for it, and that he might be ashamed to vse a poore old woman in this vnciuill kind of fashion, threw me a handfull of hot ashes in the very

face of her, and so they got them out of dores, telling her, as they went away; Ah you old rotten Carrion, Qui en tal haze, que tal pague, you are now payd in your owne money: what you got by your coozening, you may now put it in your eye.

She was toothlesse, chap-falne, hollow-eyed, and wappering withall, her haire sluttishly hanging about her eares, vnkempt, and as greazie, as it vvas knotty; a fouler Swine no man euer saw: mealed she was all ouer, like a Mul∣let dressed with Flowre, or a Flounder that is ready for the frying-pan; with a gesture so graciously scuruie, a looke so pleasantly fierce, and in all the rest so handsomely ill-fauoured, that as oft as you shall but thinke either of it or her, you cannot (if your life should lye vpon it) but you must needes burst foorth into laughter.

With this, he ended his storie, telling vs, that he had now matter inough to laugh at all the dayes of his life. Whereunto I answered; And I to weepe. Why, quoth he? Because when time was, I did not do the like: but like a co∣ward (as I was) suffered my reuenge to come from anothers hand. But I vow (if God giue me life and health) it shall cost her deare; I will make her pay for the old and the new; I will haue my penny-woorths out of her, and make my selfe that full amends, that the longest day she ha's to liue, she shall thinke vp∣on the egges, and the Youth.

The good honest Clergie-men much condemned their Hostesse, and did as much reprooue my speech; for that I seemed to be grieued, that I had not done her a mischiefe. They both set themselues against me, and turning to∣wards me, the ancienter of the two, seeing mee so angry and full of choler, spake thus vnto me:

Your hot and young blood moues you to say that, vvhich your owne good nature and ingenuous disposition vvill by and by confesse to be ill: and I hope in God, that I shall worke so much good vpon you, that you will be sorry for the present, for what you haue sayd, and study to correct hereafter, not onely the acting of any such violent deed, but the very thought of it.

Saint Mathew in the fift Chapter of his holy Gospell, and S. Luke in his * 1.104 sixt, reade vs this Lesson; Loue your enemies, and do good to them that hate you. Wherein you are first to consider, that the Euangelist doth not say, Doe good vnto those, that do ill vnto you; but he sayth; Do good to them that hate you. For suppose that your enemy should hate you, yet is it impossible that he should hurt you, vnlesse you will your selfe. For, it being an infallible truth, that we are to account those as true goods, which are to continue for euer: and that those which faile vs to morrow, (as they often do) are more proper∣ly * 1.105 to be called euils, for the ill vse which vve make of them: since that in the trust that we haue in them, & nos ipsos, & illa amittimus, wee lose both them and our selues. We may reckon these our enemies, to be our best friends; and * 1.106 these our friends to be our greatest enemies; in regard of the effects which a∣rise from the one and the other: for, from our enemies, ariseth all our true good; and from our friends, our assured hurt. Wee may plainely perceiue, * 1.107 how that the greatest good that we can draw from the faithfullest friend that we haue in this world, can be no more, then to pleasure vs, either with his purse, by giuing vs all that he hath; or by his life, by employing it in those things that giue vs content; or by his honour, by not sticking to hazard that for vs, when our reputation shall lie at the stake. In which two latter none will aduenture themselues; or there are so few of them to be found, that I doubt we shall not be able to produce any example in these times wherein we liue. But say it were so indeed, and that there were some such kind of men now adayes, and should iumpe together in all these three repeated particu∣lars, when they haue done all that they can, it is much lesse (if in that which is not at all, a magis and a minus; a more, or a lesse, may be found) then a Geo∣metricall

point. For, when he hath giuen me all that hee hath in this world, (were it neuer so much) it is too small a substance to free me from hell. Be∣sides, men do not now adayes spend their wealth, and their riches vpon the vertuous, but such as are conditioned like themselues, and assist them in their sinnes; and these are the friends that they reckon of, and to these their purse is open.

If for my sake, my friend should lose his life, one minute of time is not ad∣ded thereby vnto mine; if he should put his honour in perill, nay say, he should be willing to lose it quite for his loue to me, I say, that is not honour, nor may it be so called: for true honor is that, vvhich is ingaged in the seruice of God; and whatsoeuer is otherwise, and hath not some reference thereunto, is false and euill. So that, whatsoeuer my friend shall throw vpon me, being it is temporall and of no continuance, it is vnprofitable, vaine, and of little or no woorth at all. But my enemy, proues all pure wheat; all turnes to profit, that comes from him to me; so that my selfe will be willing to make true vse * 1.108 thereof. For from his ill-wishing to me, doe I come to wish well vnto him; and therefore God will vvish well againe vnto me, and do me good, (though I deserue ill) for that I do good for ill. If I pardon him a light iniury, to me are forgiuen and remitted an infinit number of sinnes; and if he speake ill of me, and I speake well of him, his euill language cannot hurt me; and his bit∣ter tongue shall bring me a blessing; Come ye blessed of my Father, &c. So that by his thoughts, words, and workes, my enemy makes mine to be good and true.

And what is the cause, thinke you, of this so great a wonder, and whence is the force of this so excellent a vertue? I shall tell it you, because it is a thing commanded by God, because it is his expresse will and commandement so to do. And if we are to obserue that of the Princes of this world, much better (without comparison) is it, to keep that which is commanded vs by the King of heauen: before vvhom are humbled all the hearts both of heauen and earth. And that saying of his, I command you this, is a * 1.109 sweet conserue, which is applied to the distasted palate of him that is commanded. As if the Physi∣cians should prescribe their sicke Patients to take flowres of Oranges, young preserued Wall-nuts, buds of Limmons, rindes of Pome-Citrons, the rootes of wild a 1.110 Borage, or Buglosse. What shall I say more? O my good Lord, doe not giue me any such thing! for a body that is strong and in health, can by no meanes away with it, but is rather vnpleasing then otherwise. But for the better swallowing of these Pilles, and to make the rellish the sweeter, they are so well candyed and rolled vp in Sugar, that what was hard in it selfe to be taken downe, is now become sweet and sauoury vnto vs. The like effect doth this sweet Conserue of Gods Word worke with vs. I commend (saith the Text) that ye loue your enemies. This is a dainty Sauce, made for that soure Morsell, which before was so vnsauoury to our tastes. So that, that which goes most against our stomackes, and which flesh and blood can hardly in∣dure, by reason of its bitternesse, being to our concupiscences and fleshly de∣sires, no better then very Gall and Worm-wood; The Spirit tels vs in the voyce of a good Physician, now it is made more pleasant, more sauoury and sweeter for you, since that Christ our Redeemer hath so commanded it. So that if a man should now strike me on the one cheek, I would turne the other: for it is an honour vnto vs punctually to obserue those orders which are deli∣uered vnto vs by those that are set in authority ouer vs, and not to breake them in the least branch or tittle.

A Generall doth command one of his Captaines, that he make good such a strong place or passage, by which the enemy is to passe; where, if he will him∣selfe, it shall be in his power to ouercome him, and to kill him: but his Gene∣rall tels him; Take heed, I charge you, for it much importeth my Seruice, and

it is my pleasure so to haue it, that when he shall passe by you, you offend him not, but let him goe quietly along, notwithstanding that he should giue you cause to the contrarie, and prouoke you all that he can to fight with him.

Now when this his enemy shall passe thus along by him, and shall braue him to his face, and reuile him with reprochfull and iniurious termes, calling this Captaine Coward, and other the like disgracefull names, will this Cap∣taine (thinke you) though thus mightily abused, and affronted in the face of the whole Armie, offer him hereupon any offence at all, or violently set vpon him? No certainly: But he will rather laugh at him, as a Braggadoccio, and vaine-boaster; and though he could easily haue ouerthrowne him, and kill'd him at pleasure; yet he doth it not onely because he would keepe that Order which was giuen vnto him: And if he should haue broken it, he had done ve∣ry ill, and contrary to his duty, and therefore had well deserued to be puni∣shed for it. What reason then is it, that we should not diligently obserue the orders and ordinances, giuen vs by God? Why should we goe about to breake them; or seeke euen in the least kinde of manner to contradict them? If a Captaine, for his pay onely, and vpon hope of some better preferment (which is a hazzard, whether he shall euer attaine there-unto or no) shall bee so punctuall: why should not we be as obseruant, since we shall gaine thereby * 1.111 a celestiall reward, which is reserued for vs? Especially, since that hee that made the Law, had the first handsell of it himselfe, and submitted himselfe thereunto, by suffering and receiuing from that vnhallowed and sacrilegious hand of an vnder-officer, a great buffet on that most sacred face of his, with∣out returning him so much as an euill word, or any angry looke.

If God himselfe could be content to indure such rough vsage, and pocket it vp with so much patience: Why should this same Nada del hombre, this same nothing of man, this res nihili, why I say should he be puffed vp with pride, * 1.112 transported with passion, and stand vpon his puntos, and termes of honour? And why, for to receiue satisfaction of a poore silly word, shot out vn-awares, or aduisedly; or howsoeuer (complaining of the infinitenesse of the wrong) breaking forth into rage, should one Christian challenge the field of another, seeking amongst Infidels, as if he were one of them himselfe, a a 1.113 place, where to fight it out; or (to speake more truely) to thrust themselues wilful∣ly into the hands of the Diuell their mortall enemy, flying from those of their Creator?

Of whom we may learne, that when he was to leaue this world, and was to seale his last Will and Testament, he suffered himselfe to bee nayled to the Crosse, his body to be bored, his flesh to be torne, being full of paine, and go∣red all in bloud, from the sole of his foot, euen to the crowne of his head, whose haire did cleaue to his most precious bloud, being congealed and clod∣ded together in hard-plotted Knots, and matted, as it were, with the cruell wounds, occasioned by that his sharpe thorny crowne, which they scornefully crowned him withall. And when he was to take his leaue of his Mother, and * 1.114 that his beloued Disciple, amongst other his last words that he vttered, as it were by way of his last request, and charge vnto them, and in that his violent and extreme agony, which was then plucking vp his soule by the rootes from his diuine body, he prayed vnto his eternall Father, that hee would pardon those that had thus persecuted him, and put him to this so shamefull and pain∣full a death.

This mildnesse of our Sauiour, was imitated by Saint Christopher: who, * 1.115 when he had a sound boxe on the eare giuen him, calling that to mind, which his Master had before receiued, told him that strooke him; If I were not a Christian, I would be reuenged on thee. So that reuenge then, is a member put apart from the children of the Church our Mother.

The like blowe was giuen to Saint Bernard in the presence of his brethren; * 1.116

and they being very earnest to reuenge this wrong done vnto him, hee ranne in amongst them, telling them, It is not fit, that we should reuenge the iniuries done vs by others, when as wee doe all day-long, kneeling humbly on our knees, craue pardon for our owne offences.

Saint Steuen, when they were stoning him to death, doth not grieue for * 1.117 those cruell blowes, which bereaue him of his life; but his sorrow was, to see that these bloudy Ministers should lose their soules; and grieuing for them, desires God, euen then, when the pangs of death were vpon him, that hee would pardon his persecutors, and Saul especially; who being deceiued, and zealous of his Law, thought to merit heauen by looking to the Cloakes and other cloathes belonging to those that were the Executioners; to the end that hauing nothing to hinder their armes, they might, being ridde of those lets, wound him with the greater force.

And so feruent was his Prayer; that this glorious Apostle Saint Paul vvas afterwards reduced to the faith; who like a wise Doctor, well experienced in * 1.118 this doctrine, finding it to be so necessary a thing, and so much importing our saluation, as nothing more, giues vs this good counsell: That we should for∣get and lay aside all anger; that we should not suffer the Sunne to goe downe vpon our wrath. Rather blesse then curse your persecutors: Giue them to eate, if they suffer hunger; and if they be a-thirst, giue them drinke: which if you shall not doe, the same measure that you mete vnto others, shall be mete vnto you againe: and as you forgiue, so shall you be forgiuen.

The Apostle Saint Iames saith; Without mercy shall they be iudged, that haue no mercy: and the rigour of iustice shall be returned on those that are * 1.119 rigorous.

Very fearefull of the breach of this diuine precept, was Constantine the Great; who, when one told him, how his enemies, to affront him, had in con∣tempt * 1.120 and scorne of him, throwne stones at his picture, wounding him with their strokes in the head and the face; so great was his modesty, that neglect∣ing the iniury, he began to touch & feele with his hands from place to place all the seuerall parts of his body: Asking, when he had so done; What are be∣come of these blowes; where are those wounds you talk off? I feele none, nor haue I any paine of all those thou tell'st me, they haue done vnto me. Giuing thereby to vnderstand, that there is no dishonour done to any, but to him that will esteeme it so. Besides, he was willing thereby to inferre, that who∣soeuer does thee an iniury, shall not scape scot-free, or goe cleere away with it, though thou doe not reuenge it; nay, though thou for thy part shouldst pardon the wrong that he hath done thee: For what iniury he hath offered vnto thee, he hath likewise offered the like vnto God, whose, both thou and he art. Duenno tiene est a hazienda; these goods haue an owner; And therefore you must not be your owne caruers. For, if in a Princes Palace, or a Kings Court, any affront shal be done, it is likewise done vnto the Lord thereof: nor shall the pardon of him that is affronted be sufficient absolutely to excuse the other, because by that indiscreet act of his, and inferred iniury, are likewise iniured the lawes of that Prince, the good gouernment of his house questio∣ned, and his Kingdome scandalized thereby. And therefore God saith, Re∣uenge * 1.121 belongeth vnto me; and when I see my time, I shall punish the offen∣der: Vengeance is mine, and mine owne hands shall execute the same. Wret∣ched then is that man, who is thus threatned; for if Gods owne hands shall giue him his chastisement, better had it beene that he had neuer beene borne. So that thou must neuer requite ill with ill, vnlesse thou wilt that ill shall light vpon thy selfe. Moreouer, thou shalt merit much thereby, and thou shalt be thine owne pay-master: for, by imitating him that commandeth thee, thou shalt be made like vnto him. Giue way therefore to the ire and fury of your persecutors, that you may merit Gods fauour: Thanke him for these out∣rages

and wrongs that are done you, and you shall in requitall receiue glory: and obtaine eternall rest.—And there he rested.—

I would fame haue committed to memory that good doctrine which hee deliuered vnto me to this purpose, that I might repeat it heere vnto you. For it was all heauenly stuffe. Fine, most fine holy Scripture. From that time forward I vnfeignedly propounded to my selfe to make true profit thereof. And if it be well considered, he spake very home, and well vnto mee. What greater •…•…uenge can there be, then that a man may be reuenged if hee will? * 1.122 Posse, nolle, nobile, is as true a saying as it is old: And what thing can bee more foule then reuenge, being that it is a passion of iniustice? And such a one, as none is more odious in the sight both of God and Man? For it is onely proper vnto brute beasts. Reuenge is but a kinde of cowardize, and a certain * 1.123 Actus foeminilis, an effeminate Act, and womanish kinde of weakenesse: Whereas the forgiuing of a wrong, is a glorious kinde of Victory. The re∣uengefull man makes himselfe the Reus, when by pardoning, he might bee made the Actor; that is, in stead of an Accuser, the Accused. What greater presumption can there be in the world, then that the creature should vsurpe the office of his Creator? appropriating that vnto him, which is none of his; and going away (as we say) with another mans wealth, whereunto hee hath no right in the world? If thou thy selfe art not thine owne, nor in thine owne * 1.124 disposall; neither hast thou any thing of thine owne in thee, that he, who (as thou sayst) hath offended thee, can take from thee. Such actions as these, thou canst not commence thy selfe, they belong vnto thy Lord, which is God: Leaue vengeance therefore vnto him. God will take it of the wicked, tar∣diùs aut citiùs, at one time or another, early or late. And that cannot bee ter∣med too late, which is in a continuall inclination to its end. And to take it out of his hands, is a heynous offence, a mighty mis-regard, and a contempt in the highest degree.

But admit satisfaction should belong vnto thee, and that the Law were in thine owne hands; tell me, I pray thee, What thing can be more noble, then to doe good? And what more good, then not to do ill? One onely, which is this; To doe good vnto him, that doth ill vnto thee, and doth persecute thee, as it is commanded vs, which we are bound to obey. For, to repay ill with ill, is the Diuels office; to doe good to him, that doth good vnto thee, is a natu∣rall debt betweene man and man; nay, the wilde beasts of the Forrest doe ac∣knowledge as much, and doe not waxe furious against those, that do not seeke to hurt them. But to procure and worke that mans good, that would doe thee a mischiefe, and cut thy throat, if it were in his power to doe it; this is opus supernaturale, a worke aboue the reach of nature: it is that diuine Lad∣der, whereby we climbe vp by the rounds of Charitie, to glorious Eterni∣tie; it is that key of the crosse, which openeth the gates of Heauen: it is the soules sweet peace; and the bodies quiet rest. But reuenge is a life with∣out quietnesse; one cals vpon another, and all vnto death. Is not he a foole, nay, worse then a mad-man, who, if his doublet chance to wring him, will thrust his ponyard into his owne body? And what other thing is reuenge, then to doe ill vnto our selues, out of a desire to doe ill vnto others? And to plucke out both our owne eyes, to put out one of our enemies? Or to spit a∣gainst heauen, that it may presently fall againe in our owne faces? Seneca vn∣derstood * 1.125 this doctrine wonderfull well, when an enemy of his hauing giuen him a boxe of the eare in the Market-place, and all that saw it, did incite him to complaine thereof vnto the Iustice; he smiling vpon them, said vnto them, Were it not a foolish part in me (thinke you) to call a beast into the Court? As if he should haue said, With that buffet, hee like a beast did expresse his rage; and I like a man, did scorne and contemne this his brutish behauiour. Can there be any brutishnesse greater then to doe ill? Or can there bee any

greatnesse like vnto that, which shall despise the ill that is done him, and set light by it?

The Duke of Orleans hauing formerly beene iniured by one, when he was * 1.126 afterward King of France, he was put in minde, that hee might now be re∣uenged of the wrong he then receiued: for now it was in his power to doe it. But he, looking sowrely on him that did so aduise him, told him; it was not fit, that the King of France, should reuenge the wrongs of the Duke of Orleans. If, for a man to conquer himselfe, be counted so great a Victory; * 1.127 Why, by subduing our appetites, allaying our anger, and rebating our ran∣cour; doe not we gaine vnto our selues this glorious Palme? Since that, (be∣sides that which is promised vnto vs in the future) euen in this life also, wee shall auoid many mischiefes, which may either take away our life from vs, or rob vs of this our vaine honour, and consume our wealth. O good God, had I beene a good Lad, that which I heard from that good man, I might haue been the better for it all the dayes of my life. But I was young, and past it quickly ouer; that treasure was ill bestow'd vpon me, I lost it; it was corne that fell in the high-way, it did not thriue with me. His good conuer∣sation and doctrine entertained vs to Cantillana, whither we came about Sun-set: I with a good desire to my Supper, and my Companion with an earnest expectation to haue his, but that neuer came. The two Clergie men made their ranke apart, and went to a friends house that they were acquain∣ted withall in the Towne, and we to our Inne.

CHAP. V.

How Guzman and the Carrier did eate of a young Mule, thinking it had beene Ueale, beeing coozened by his Host in Cantillana, and discourseth by the way of the coozening tricks, which •…•…ad Hosts put vpon poore Trauellers.

WHen the Company, that came along with vs, had left vs, and were gone euery man his way; I askt my Camerade, Whither shall we goe now? He told me. Here's an honest Host hard by, one of my old acquaintance, a good-fellow, where we shall be well lodged, fare daintily, and kindly en∣tertained. Well, along we trudge together, till we came to this his so much commended Inne, hauing brought me (as you shall heare hereafter) to one of the veryest theeues, and arrantest knaues, that there was not such another in all that part of the Country wher∣in he liu'd.

Heere new occasion of matter was offered, fresh plates set vpon the boord, and such prouision, as you may therewith well entertaine the time. Was I not (thinke you) in fine taking when I leapt out of the Frying-pan into the fire; and fell into Scilla, seeking to shunne Charibdis? Our Host had for his owne vse a good strong Asse, and a Galitian Mare, that was a pretty little Tit. And because men in their necessitie, doe not stand vpon beauty, youth, nor pompe of apparell; but content themselues onely with Night-caps, when their heads are mangie and scabbed; it is no maruell, if the like should happen euen amongst brute beasts. They were alwayes fellow-feeders in one Stable, one Racke, and one Field; and he that was owner of them, tooke no great heed to haue them tyde fast, but let them go loose of purpose to the end, that they might helpe the other Beasts in the Inne in the repeating of their lessons. Whereby it came to passe that this Mare grew great with Foale, by li∣uing at large amongst this good company.

It is an inuiolable law in Andaluzia, That no such Coniunction, or Commix∣ture * 1.128 be permitted; and to this end, grieuous penalties are ordained. This Mare then, hauing in her due time foaled a pretty young Mule, mine Host was willing to make profit thereof, and to that end nourished and bred it vp. He kept this businesse very secret some certaine dayes, and was wonderfull care∣full, that it might not come to light: but because he saw it was not possible for him to hide this matter long, and to keepe it from the knowledge of the world, that he might not giue his enemies aduantage of reuenge; carried a∣way partly with the feare of his owne hurt, and partly with the greedinesse of gaine, he resolued (this last Friday night) to kill him. He cuts me out the flesh of it into pieces, which he powders vp in a pickle made of purpose, and made ready against the next day, (being Saturday) for his Ghests: partes mi∣nutiores huius animalis, vt pedes, ilia, venter, &c. all the intrailes and offals of * 1.129 this beast; as feet, tripes, the cragge-end of the necke, tongue, braine, and the like. We (as I told you) came to our Inne in a very good hower: for he that trauailes, takes contentment vpon the way, that hee may come into his Inne betimes, that he may haue meat to fill his empty guts, and a bed to rest his weary bones.

My Companion, as soone as he had alighted and taken off his lading, and put vp all things safe, sets vp his Asses in the Stable, taking order for their dressing and their feeding. But I came thither so wearied, that I was not able when I lighted, to stand vpon my legges, but was faine to lie downe on the * 1.130 ground, and was not able for a great while to turne my selfe any way in the world. For all my muscles and sinewes were quite benum'd, my legges and feet swolne, vvith their long hanging downe for lacke of Stirrops, my breech extremely gall'd, my parts neerer my priuities full of paine, as if so many nee∣dles had beene stucke in my Groyne; my body was all out of ioynt; but of all other parts, my belly (for pure hunger) did most pitifully complaine.

Now when my Companion had ordered his beasts of burthen, and had ea∣sed them of their carriages, and had done all things fitting for one of his pro∣fession, my turne was next to be serued, and therefore said vnto him; How now (my Camerade) what thinke you of the motion? Is it not high-time (thinke you) to go to Supper? He answered, It was; the motion he told me, was very good, and that it was high time indeed: for he meant to bee stir∣ring very early the next morning, and to reach betimes to Caçalla, and so to lade, and away. We ask't our Host, if he had any thing in the house for our supper? He answered, He had; adding withal, that we should fare very dainti∣ly. He was a burly-kind of man, yet of a stirring metall, nimble-witted, cheer∣full both in his speech and countenance, an eternall talker, but aboue all a * 1.131 most excellent Villaine. His promising person (I confesse) did deceiue mee: for, seeing so good a presence, and not hauing knowne him before, the Spot at first sight, made show of a good Card. And hearing him say, that he could feast vs brauely, my very heart and soule did leape for ioy within mee: Oh, they were comfortable words! Whereupon, I began with my selfe to giue thankes vnto God, reuerencing his holy Name, for that after our troubles he giues vs ease; after sicknesse, health; after a storme, a calme; after sorrow, ioy; and a good Supper, after a bad dinner.

I know not, whether I may well tell you or no, of a toung-errour, but a witty one, which came from a plaine country-fellow, whom I knew in Olias, being a certaine Village belonging to Tol•…•…do? yet I shall make bold to tell it you, as well for that the thing in it selfe is not scandalous, as also for that it proceeded from the sincere heart of an * 1.132 old Christian.

There were certaine good fellowes playing at Primera, and the third ha∣uing discarded, the second cride, I am Prime; God be thanked yet at last, that I haue got one game since I playd, said hee, that had the Prime. The other

Country-fellow that was in the interim drawing his Cards, when he had puld them, found them to be all of one linage, and being glad that he had got the hand of him, suddenly brake soorth at that very instant, and sayd; Not so much God be thanked neither, as you thinke for; for I am Flush. If such a disparate, or idle toy as this, being not purposely spoken with either due mea∣sure, or to any certain end, but by meere chance, as it were, may be brought vpon the Stage; this is its proper place, and the Scene well layd here, conside∣ring what befell vs. Its very well, (said my Companion) to mine Host; Now and thou beest a good fellow, tell me, I pray thee, what dainty morsell hast thou prouided for vs? This b 1.133 Socarron, this dissembling Rascall, that was all for his commodity, & cared not (so as he might get by him) whom he cooze∣ned, told him; Yesterday I kill'd a very delicate fine young Calfe; which, be∣cause the Damme thereof was very weake; and by reason, (through the dri∣nesse of the yeere) that he wanted feeding, he caused this Calfe to be kill'd af∣ter it was some eight dayes old. The offals; and the intrailes are ready drest, take what you please. After this, crying out Presto, bee gone, lifting vp his legges, and fetching a friscall or two, he flyes away in the ayre in a trice, clap∣ping his heeles with his hands as he runnes along. With this, my heart be∣gan to be somewhat lighter then it was before, and it did reioyce me much to heare him say, that he had the Calues intrailes; the very naming whereof, did make my Bowels to moue within me. And now taking leaue of my for∣mer wearinesse, looking cheerily vpon him, I said vnto him; Mine Host, bring vs what you thinke good.

Thereupon, the Cloth was laid in the turning of an hand, our Linnen was cleane; and our bread was not so bad as before, but our wine was passing good: we had also a fresh Sallad set vpon the Board in a faire Plate; but for such washie Tripes as mine then were, I held it no good meate. And had it beene spared by me, either for any of the intrailes, or any one foot of a Calfe, it would neuer haue grieu'd me. But these premises might deceiue any dis∣creet iudgement whatsoeuer, making the taste of an hungry appetite drun∣ken with the very conceit of his promised fare. The Italian, by way of ad∣uice, giues vs this good lesson; That in the promises of Women, Mariners, and Inne-keepers, we should place small confidence: for they that are giuen to commend themselues, and their owne things, (as all these vsually do) they do all (guessing the whole by the greater part) generally lye. Af∣ter he had set downe the Sallad, he brings vs in two little Plates, in each of which lay a little of this same Calues-plucke, I say, a little; for he was afraid to giue vs too much▪ lest through too much plenty, hunger being satisfied, and the belly glutted, we might more easily come to the knowledge of this deceit of his.

Leading vs thus ley surely along, we follow the sent we first ran vpon, and it seemed to our taste, that we still did eate, according to that conceit, which wee had intertained of this our supposed tender Veale; and the more wee thought thereon, the greater edge was set vpon our appetite; and as wee had a longing desire thereunto, so by degrees wee were still calling for the same hand againe. For my Companion, there was no care to be taken for him, all meates were alike to him; for he was borne amongst Sauage people, and bred * 1.134 vp by brutish Parents, whose palate was seasoned from the cradle with a cloue of Garlicke; and your rude rusticall Clownes, (as a thing not belonging to their either goodnesse or cleanlinesse) in matter of taste can seldome distin∣guish ill from good. To most of them, there is a want of perfection in their Senses; and albeit they see, yet do they not see that, which they ought to see: and though they heare, yet do they not heare that which they ought to heare: and so in the rest; but more particularly in the tongue, which was not giuen them to murmure against any man, much lesse against those, that are gentle

and noble, as well in their disposition, as their descent. But these kindes of vn-nurtured people are like vnto Dogs, who snatch and snap at euery thing, swallowing all that comes in the compasse of their chaps, without chewing: or like vnto the Ostrich, that will deuoure a horse-shoo, though it bee neuer so red hot. And if a double-soled shoo, which had done seruice three Winters in Madrid, treading thorow thicke and thinne; lodo y mierda, durt and turds had beene set before such a fellow as this, he would haue made no bones of it, nor found no difference in the going downe of it. But that I, who was dain∣tily brought vp, and borne of ciuill parents, and such as were neat and curi∣ous in their dyet, that I should not find out this deceit, my hunger must needs be great; and this must excuse my errour. The desire that I had to eate some∣thing that was good, was exceeding great, so that euery thing seemed too lit∣tle to feed mine eyes. This cunning Rogue, mine Host, gaue it vs by way of distillation, Limbecke-fashion, now a little, and then a little: and there∣fore * 1.135 it is no such wonder, had it had farre greater defects, that it should seeme vnto me a well-ordered Banquet.

Haue you not heard it sayd, Que à la hambre, no ay mal pan? That all bread is sauoury to the hungry? I say, all seemed to me to be Suckets, and Marma∣late; and me thought I should neuer haue enough to fill my belly. I deman∣ded, if he had any thing else: He told me, we might (if wee would) haue the braines fryed, with some butter and egges. We told him, we would: but we are slower in telling him so, then he in going about it; nay, almost in the dres∣sing of it. In the meane while, lest we might not catch cold with standing still, like your Poste-horses when they haue run their stage; he gaue vs to in∣tertaine the time withall, a piece of flesh folded and rolled vp, made out of the Tripes, (after the fashion of your rosted Oliues of Veale) together with some of the Filme and rinde of the belly. I did not like the taste of it halfe wel; it smelled (me thought) like rotten straw that's throwne out vpon the dung∣hill. Whereupon I thrust it from me, leauing it to my Companion, who entred roundly vpon it, deuouring it as greedily, as a man would grapes, comming into a Vineyard in the time of Vintage. Nor did it grieue mee a∣whit to see him fall to it so lustily, but was rather very glad of it, thinking by this meanes, that when he had beene full-fed therewith, a greater part of the braines would fall to my share. But it fell out contrary to my expectation; for he had neuer awhit the more cloyd his panch, nor did hee cease to lay a∣bout him with as good a stomacke, as if he had not all the day, nor night be∣fore, eaten so much as one morsell of bread.

The egges and the braines were set vpon the Board; and when my honest Carrier saw this fine Froyze, he began, according to his old wont, to laugh out alowd, with as wide a throat, as you can imagine. I did fret, and fume, and chafe with my selfe out of all cry, conceiting with my selfe, that he made himselfe merry with my miserie, and tooke delight, to represent to my re∣membrance * 1.136 those former loathsome things, that had lately ouerthrowne my stomacke.

Our Host thereupon looking very soberly on vs both, with a watchfull eye obseruing our behauiour, and with an itching eare, listening to heare what we sayd; seeing his dis-composed laughter so ill seasoned, and vn-occasioned, (as he thought) was much mooued thereat; fearing, that hee had found out his Knauery: for vntill then, there was not any matter offered, that might mooue occasion of laughter. And therefore he was ielous, that the Foxe was now vn-earthed, and this must needs be it. And because a guilty person car∣ries his a 1.137 Beard euermore vpon his shoulder; & vmbrae suae imagine concuti∣tur, and is afraid of his owne shadow; because his owne conscience doth ac∣cuse him; and the committed fault, represents the deserued punishment: E∣uery the least act, or inkling of any thing whatsoeuer, he imagineth, that it is

all meant against him; and that the very ayre doth whistle foorth his offence, and publisheth it to all the world.

This poore Rogue, (albeit a very villaine) hardened in roguery, and habi∣tuated in mischiefe, and being steeped, and layen long in soke, (as it were) in thefts, and all kinds of coozenages, was now out of heart, and grew silly and weake-spirited, and was ready to quake for feare. Besides, such kind of men are commonly Cowards, and haue onely an outside of men, but no man∣hood at all. Why is it (thinke you) that some men hacke and hew, and threa∣ten to kill and slay, and like Tygres lay about them? I will tell you the reason of it. They do this, not out of true metall, but to make others afraid, and to supply by this roaring carriage; the defect of their courage: being like herein, vnto dogges; whereof, those that are barkers, are the least biters: they are like your little a 1.138 Melitean dogges, or a kind of foysting-Hounds, which are made all of noyse and barking; but if you turne towards them, they clap their taile betweene their legges, and runne away. Our Host was (as I haue told you) much troubled; for feare, suspicion, and ielousie, is a propertie, that is still incident to an euill liuer. He had quite lost his stirrops, nor did he know how or which way to recouer his seat; but began to sweare with many great and horrible oathes that it was very good Veale that hee had set before vs, and that we had no iust cause, nor reason to laugh as we did; and if need were, I could bring you an hundred witnesses to testifie as much.

These words he vttered with much passion; with a face as red as fire, that the blood seemed to trickle downe his cheekes, and sparkles to flash for very anger foorth his eyes. The Carrier lifting vp his head and looking earnestly vpon him, told him; Who medles with you, (my friend) what wrong haue we done you, that you are so cholericke? We do not touch vpon you, no not so much as to aske you how you do, or how b 1.139 old you are? Haue you any c 1.140 Edict, or Proclamation here in the house, that doth set a taxe or rate vpon laughing; or to what proportion and quantitie your ghests shall be tyed to laugh, if at any time he be so disposed, vpon paine of some great forfeit? or is this a generall sessing set thereupon, and you alone haue got the Monopoly thereof into your hands? If it be so, good mine Host, let euery man weepe, or laugh, as he will himselfe; and take that a Gods-name which is your due, and recouer your right of vs by order of Law. I tell you, Sir, you are mistaken in me; for I am of that free disposition, that if I were minded to laugh at any thing of yours, I am not so meale-mouth'd, but I would plainely tell you at what I laught.

These egges now put me in mind of those other, which my Companion here did eate to day at an Inne some three Leagues hence. Then hee vp and told all that had passed, as my selfe before had deliuered vnto him; and that which happened afterwards in his presence, betwixt the old Hostesse, and my two young Souldiers; in the relating whereof, he seemed as if hee had beene bathing himselfe all the while in Rose-water, if a man might iudge the con∣tent he tooke in repeating the same, by his passions, his lowd laughters, strange visages, anticke gestures, and the diuersities of postures, in the bow∣ing and writhing of his body, all the while that he was telling him this tale. Mine Hoste, he fell as fast a blessing and crossing himselfe, powring out Vol∣leys of Exclamations, calling vpon, and often reiterating the name of Iesus, a thousand times one after another, and lifting vp his eyes vnto heauen sayd; Our blessed Lady be my helper; let her still be present with me! Mal haga Dios, à quién mal haze su Oficio, let ill betide him, that performes his fun∣ction ill. And because in his Theeueries and his Rogueries he was so good a Proficient, he might rest assured, that this malediction did not belong to him, so well had he exercised that trade all his life-time. Hee began afterwards to walk vp and down, & seeming somtimes to wonder, somtimes to complaine,

at last he cryde out; I vvonder a-gods name, that the earth did not open, and swallow vp this Inne? How is it possible, that God should dissemble his an∣ger, * 1.141 and forbeare to punish so vile a vvoman? Does this old Witch liue? is she not gone downe quicke to hell? All Trauellers haue iust cause to com∣plaine of her; I now see, that all men haue reason to complaine of her ill v∣sage; no man comes away contented from her; all finde fault, not one that comes thence well satisfied, but are sorry that euer they came within her doores. Either all her ghests are very bad, or she her selfe: but it is not to bee imagined so many can be all bad; and therefore sure the fault is onely hers.

For these, and other the like tricks, no passenger will stay to bait at her Inne, they haue all set a crosse vpon her doore, they blesse themselues when they goe by, and make large strides till they bee past that wicked house. I sweare vnto you, she should be soundly whipt, if she were well seru'd, that all other coozening queanes, such as she is, might take example by her. Her Signe was once pull'd downe, and order taken, that shee should not keepe victualling any more. And I much wonder, that she turning againe to the old byas, the officers returne not againe to punish her anew.

There is something in it, as the Ant said, but what it is I cannot tell you, that makes her to doe as she does. There must be some mysterie in it, what euer it be: for she robs and coozens with the like liberty to day, as she did ye∣sterday; and now, as last yeere: And (which is worst of all) she coozens with that confidence, as if she were commanded so to doe. And sure it must needs be so; for the Guards, the Searchers, the Promoters, and the Alguazils, all see her dealings, and know them well inough; yet they winke at them, and say not so much as blacke is her eye. These I warrant you be her fee'd men, she giues them good content, and greazes them in the fist with that, which she filches from others. For if it were not so, as sure as the coat is on your back, they would haue another fling at her, and pay her home againe with a poxe in her owne kinde.

Howbeit (wretched woman as she is) it is punishment inough vnto her, that she liu'd so long, as to discredit her house. For if she had kept good meat in her house, and vs'd her ghests well, behauing her selfe ciuilly, and demand∣ing reasonable reckonings, her custome would haue been good, and all Tra∣uellers would haue flockt vnto her house. And you know, De muchos pocos hiziera mucho; Many a little, makes a mickle. For, by carrying but one graine of corne away with him at once, the Ant fils his granary, and liues in store and plenty all the yeere long. And had she done so, the proudest Officer of them all, could not haue set his foot vpon her neck, and teare her vngodly gaines out of her throat. But shame light vpon her, and all such as she is. The Diuell take such vnconscionable Inne-keepers.

When he had come thus farre and made his full point, I thought he would there haue left. But hee comes about againe, giuing vs this cloze for a farewell: Blessed bee that vnspotted purity of the Virgin Mary, that though I am but a poore man; yet I thanke God for it, there is no such ill v∣sage in my house, no such deceitfull tricks; Euery thing is heere sold for the thing it is: no Cats, for Conies; nor Mutton, for Veale. Limpieza de vida, es lo que importé, a cleere conscience, is that, which will carry a man through thicke and thin. He may goe bare-faced through the world, and neuer bee ashamed, that hath led an innocent life. Let euery man enioy that which is his owne, and not defraud and deceiue one another.

Heere he stopt, and tooke in fresh breath, which was no more then needed, considering how fast his tongue walkt: And though happely he might thinke, that we might the more willingly giue him the hearing now that we had supt; yet he heere cuts off the thread of his Discourse, and sayes no more, gi∣uing

vs in stead of our second Course, two or three Oliues, as bigge as Nuts. We intreated him that against the next morning we might haue a morsell of his Veale made ready for vs. He vndertooke that care, and we went to take our rest. Our boulsters, were our pack-Saddles; and our bedding the cloathes that couered our Packs, which we stretch out as plaine as wee could vpon the bare Floore: and so we past ouer that night, as well as we could.

CHAPTER VI.

Guzman goes on, in recounting what succeeded with his Host of Cantillana, who had giuen him to eate of his young Mule, and of the misfortunes that befell the said Guzman: And how it is not good vpon the way to quarrell with our Host.

HAd I, the Sunday morning following, when it was day, been * 1.142 set in the Market-place in Seuill, or at my mothers owne doore: I am doubtfull, whether they would haue knowne me or no. For I was monstrously Flea-bitten by that infinit number of Fleas, which had fed that night on my carkase, that it seemed they likewise indured a deare yeere, and that I was offered vp vnto them for a prey. And so in the mor∣ning I got me vp, looking for all the world, like one that had been sick of the small Pox, or infected with the Meazels; my face and hands, and all my whole body ouer, not hauing one free place, or one spot of white, no, not so much as you might put a pins point betweene; so miserably was I tormented with them.

But fortune was herein so fauourable vnto me, that what with the weari∣nesse * 1.143 of the iourney, and taking a cup or two ouer-night more then ordinary, I slept soundly, dreaming heauenly dreames, no noise hindring my quiet rest; till that my Companion, whose minde ranne vpon hearing Masse betimes in the morning, and of his seuen Leagues which he had farther to goe, did a∣waken me.

We rise by the breake of day, before the Sunne was vp. And calling pre∣sently for our breakefast, it was brought vs in; but it did not like me so well, as it did my fellow: for euery morsell, that went downe his throat, seemed to him, as if he had swallowed so many bits of the brawne of some yong ten∣der Peacocks, and he did so much commend the goodnes of it, as if all the world could not affoord a daintier dish. And I was forced so to esteeme of it, by laying my faith vpon another mans taste, attributing that defect to mine owne bad palate, which this hungry hound had inherited from the Asse his father. But, to speake the plaine truth, it was starke naught, and as vile meat as a man could eate, and did not sticke to speake it selfe vnto mee in a knowne language.

To me it seemed tough, and vnsauoury, and of that little which I did eate ouer-night at supper, my stomake was so sur-charged with it, lying as hea∣uy within me as Lead, that I was not able for my life to digest it. And albeit I was somewhat fearefull, lest my fellow should finde fault with me, yet did I not sticke to say vnto mine Host; How comes this flesh to be so tough, and of that euill rellish, that a man can scarce fasten vpon it with his teeth? Hee told me; Do not you see, Sir, that it is flesh that hath been newly kill'd, and wants time for the mortifying and making of it tender? Hereupon, my Compani∣on taking his Q: It is not (quoth he) any lack of mortifying, or hanging in the ayre; or that it does not eate tender and short inough, that makes this

Gentleman to be so squeamish: but because he hath been fed from his cradle with spice-Buns, Sugar-Cakes, and fresh Egges, all other meates saue these, are hard both to his teeth and stomake. I shrunke vp my shoulders, and held my peace, as one that knew full well, that I was now as it were in another kinde of world, and that it was but one dayes patience more, and then I should be out of danger of vnderstanding such kinde of language any longer.

But for all this, I could not here-with rest contented, but still mee thought this meat had an ill smatch with it, of I know not what.

And as I was thinking thereon, it presently came in my minde what vnne∣cessary oathes mine Host made the night before, when he vow'd and swore it was Veale.

This swearing and staring of his, I did not like halfe well, and did there∣fore thinke, he did the rather lye, because he did so deepely sweare: for the truth hath no need of the confirmation of an Oath, vnlesse it be in open Court before a Iudge, or in case of great necessitie. Besides, all such satisfa∣ction, * 1.144 as offers it selfe by way of preuention, before the thing deliuered, is questioned, or called into doubt, makes the faith of the reporter to bee euer∣more suspected. I knew not what did ayle me, or what might be the cause of this; for although I did not really conceiue any assured ill, I did as little presume, that there could be any good meaning herein. It was onely a touch of my imagination, a strange apprehension, that I had in my head at that time: Wherevpon I did not long dwell, nor made any great reckoning of it. So passing it ouer, I call'd for a reckoning, my Companion told me, I should let my purse alone, for he would pay for vs both. Whereupon I went aside, leauing him to be the Pay-master: thinking with my selfe, that out of courte∣sie, and this our new acquaintance, he was not willing, that I should pay my share of so small a shot.

I was very thankefull to him in my heart for this his kindnesse, and was not wanting to sing forth his praises, for this his freenesse and loue, which he had showne vnto me, euer since that he met me vpon the way, giuing me my horse-hyre, and my dyet gratis; not suffering me to spend one penny in his company.

I thought with my selfe, this world would still hold, and that wheresoeuer I went, I should meet with some one or other that would beare my charges, and let me ride for nothing. I had now taken heart vnto me, and began to be prettily well flesht, and to forget my mothers teat, as if it had been noyn∣ted with Aloes, Worme-wood, or the like bitter stuffe, and so in all other things did I doe the like, whereunto I had beene formerly accustomed. And because it should not be said of me, Que delos ingratos estaua lleno el infierno; That hell is full of vngratefull persons: While he was paying the shot, I was * 1.145 willing to shew some part of my thankefulnesse, by leading out his Asses to drinke, and carrying them backe againe to their cratches, to the end, that while they were saddling and making all things ready, they might champe vpon their strawe, and make an end of their prouender. I put a helping hand to all that was needfull, rubbing their foreheads and their eares, as well as I was able.

Whil'st I was busied in this, I had laid my Cloke vpon a bench hard by, which like Quick-siluer, before the fire, or smoake before the winde, was vanisht a∣way in an instant, that I could neuer set eye on it any more; nor could deuise in the world, what should become of it. I thought with my selfe, that either mine Host or my Consort, had, to make themselues merry therewith, hid it from me in iest. But it was now no more a iesting matter, for they beganne to sweare in good earnest that they had it not, nor knew what was become of it; I made diligent search for it euen to the very gate which was shut, and had not yet been opened. There was no body there in the house but our

selues, and mine Host, and therefore me thought it was impossible, that it should be lost, and that I might peraduenture forget my selfe; and haue put it apart in some other place. Hereupon, I sought vp and downe all the house; and going out of the Hall into the Kitchen, it was my hap to come into a back-Court, where I found a great plash of fresh bloud, and hard by it a Mules skinne, fairely stretcht out to its full breadth and length, from the which the fect were not yet cut off; The eares were there at large, and all that part of the head towards the fore-head, neere whereunto were those other bones belonging to the head, onely the tongue, and the braines were wanting: Which I no sooner perceiued, but I was presently confirmed in my doubt.

Hereupon I streight goe forth to call in my Companion; To whom, when I had made show of the Hide, that had bound in our breakefast and our sup∣per, I then said vnto him; What thinke you now, Sir? Are not those things (trow you) Sugar-cakes, and new-laid Egges, in comparison of these that we eate at home? This is that Veale, forsooth, which you so extolled to the skies; and this the Host, you promised should prouide vs such dainty cheere.

What thinke you of the supper now, and the breakefast which he hath be∣stowed vpon vs? Hath he not dealt well with vs I pray? haue we not beene excellently well vsed? He (good man) is none of these coozening Hosts, and cheating Inne-keepers, that will sell a Cat for a Cony; and put away Mut∣ton, for Veale. This is that innocent man, that may goe vnmaskt through∣out the world, and care not who sees him, and lookes him in the face, he is so honest a man. This is that integer vitae, sceleris{que} purus, so vnspotted in his life and conscience, and so free from all ill dealing, that out of his owne inte∣gritie, made no bones to curse our Hostesse, and the euill vsage of her Ghests.

He was strooken so dumpe, and so full of wonder, to see what I had show'd him, that he had not a word to say; but with his head cast downe into his bo∣some, went slinking away from me, and was so amazed at this strange sight, that all the day after till we parted company, I could not get from him so much as a vvord, saue what past at our parting when we were to take our leaue each of other. And that which then came from him, seemed to bee drawne out of the very guts of him, as you shall heare anon.

Howbeit, I vvas not (as euery man may imagine) very well pleased vvith this vnhappy accident; yet notwithstanding, (that this his floud of laughter might by this meanes be dammed vp, or the current thereof turn'd another way, wherewith euery moment before, my very heart and soule was ouer-flowne, and in a manner, quite drowned.) I was wonderfully ouer-ioyed with this my misfortune, vvhich did so much the lesse grieue me, because he had so great a share in it.

What vvith this (which was vantage inough) and the strong beliefe that I had that no man but mine Host could possibly conuay away my Cloake, I be∣gan somewhat more boldly to charge him vvith it; It being euer incident to a good cause, to put strength into weakenesse; and to adde courage to the * 1.146 faint-hearted I began to put it home to him, and told him plainely that hee should answere me my Cloake, and that he had stolne it: But he very scorne∣fully denies it, i•…•…ering and fleering at me; and the more earnest I vvas, the more merry he makes himselfe. Wherewith my patience was so much moo∣ued, that I could not hold, but threatned him (in my choller) vvith the Iu∣stice; yet did I not touch at all on this new businesse, nor spake one word to him of that which I had seene. But he, for that I vvas a young Lad, a poore Boy, and no body to take my part, began to domineere ouer me, telling me, that he had a rod for me in his pocket, and other the like reproachfull words, termes onely befitting Cowards, and men of base condition, such as him∣selfe. But because worms will turne againe, if they be trod on, and the gentlest

Lambes grow mad, if they be too much wrong'd, vpon multiplying of words one begetting another; and the latter worse then the former, at last wee fell foule. And as the fewnesse of my yeeres, and weaknesse of my strength would giue me leaue, I tore out halfe a brick-bat from the side of a Bench there-by, and threw it at him as hard as euer I could driue; which, if I had hit him with∣all, and that he had not hid himselfe behind a pillar, I thinke I had beaten out his braines, and beene fully reuenged of the wrong he did me. But hee scap't my hands, and ranne as fast as his legges would carry him into his chamber; whence he came foorth in all haste with his sword drawne in his hand.

Here you may see, what manner of men these roaring-Boyes be, since that * 1.147 this great Gull doth not now seeke to defend himselfe with the force of his strong and brawnie armes, against those weake and tender twigges of mine; forgetting, that he said, he would whip me, seeking now to offend mee by force of armes, I beeing but a grissle, and a poore simple dis-armed chicken. In this manner then, he makes towards me with his naked sword; whilest I fearing what might follow, stood vpon my gard with two pibble-stones, which I had pluck't out of the pauement. Which when hee saw I had now ready in my hand, his courage began to be abated, and did not dare to draw neerer vnto me.

Now with the noyse and out-cries that were made vpon this occasion, the whole Inne was in an vprore; and all the neighbours there-abouts, hearing the stirre, came flocking in vpon vs, to see what the matter was. All the whole street hasted thither, and with them a great throng of people, as well Iustices, as Notaries. There came in two Alcaldes, both at the same instant, and each of them stroue to haue the hearing of the cause, labouring to preuent each other. And the Notaries for their priuate gaine, euery one said, that this businesse did belong vnto him; whereupon they grew at difference and oddes betweene themselues.

Vpon this contention, grew a second quarrell, no lesse fierce and tumultu∣ous, then was ours: for on both sides, they digg'd vp their Grandfathers graues, twitting one another in the teeth with their fathers and their mo∣thers, not sparing one anothers wiues, ripping vp their faults, and the course of life that they led; wherein perhaps they did not lie: But they would no more vnderstand one another, then did we. Whilest we were in this hurly∣burly, come in certaine Regidores, accompanied with other worshipfull Bur∣gomasters of the Towne, who laboured to make peace betweene them, and laid hold on me. Que siempre quebra la soga, por lo mas delgado: for the wea∣kest must stil go to the wal: and the Skeane there breaketh soonest, where the thred is finest. The stranger, the poore soule, the miserable man, he that ha's no shelter, no friends to sticke vnto him; no great Ones to fauour him, he that is depriued of all succour and comfort, and hath no body to defend him, he is the man, whom the Iustice doth first take in hand.

They would needs know, what this stirre was, and whence it grew. They call'd me aside, and tooke my confession: I plainely told them all that had passed; but because some that were thereby, might chance to ouer-heare me, I went apart with the Alcaldes, and told them in secret, that which I knew concerning the Machuelo, or little young Mule. They were first of all desi∣rous to approue and verifie the cause; but it seeming vnto them, that they had time inough to dispatch all, they vsed diligence for the apprehending of mine Host; who was carelesse of any ill that might come vnto him for that offence. And perswading himselfe, that all this inquiry was onely about the Cloake, made but a iest of it, and laugh't at it as a thing of nothing, and could no way touch him, for default of Information, and those due proofes that I was to make, hauing no man, besides the Carrier, to witnesse for me, that I was seen to come in thither with a Cloake.

But afterwards perceiuing, that by little and little, this piece of hangings came to be seene, to wit, the skinne, and the rest of the appurtenances, the copy of my Gentlemans countenance was quickly altered, and began sudden∣ly to looke blanke vpon the matter: so that, when they began to examin him, and had withall before his face shewd him the skinne; confessing the fact, hee was conuicted, not hauing the heart to deny any thing, but told them the truth of all that had past.

For it is an assured truth, that base-minded men, infamous in their life, and ill-conditioned in their carriage and manners, are (as I said before) ranke co∣wards, and of no courage in the world. For, without hauing the torment gi∣uen him, or before euer that he was threatned with the Racke; vndemanded, he declared the Thefts, and the Rogueries that he had done, as well in that his Inne, as his robbing vpon the high-way, when he was a shepherd: whereby he got him a Stocke, to set vp for himselfe in the world. I all this while li∣stened very close; looking still when his confession should bring my cloake to light; but out of the malice and hatred that he bare vnto me, that was quite left out. I vsed my best diligence I could, to make it appeare, but all would not serue the turne. After they had made an end of taking our declarations, I meane, the Carriers and mine, because we were strangers, they did in that particular ratifie and approue what we had deposed. And whilest this Plea was depending, whether or no (till it were determined) they should carry me to prison, and keepe me there (tras paciente, aporreado (as they say) I must haue the wrong, & be beaten too,) there were diuers disputes thervpon. The Nota∣ries were very glad of this, & they did pretend I should: but one of the Alcal∣des stood vp and said, That I had reason on my side, and was in no fault at all: and that they had no reason to question me any farther; for it was punishment enough already for me, and too much too, that I was left thus naked in my hose and dubblet, and was coozened of my cloake. Hereupon, they let mee goe, but mine Host, he was led away to prison. And leauing him there, we prepare for our iourney; and all things being made ready, we begin to set for∣ward, passing along that street, where the Clergy-men stood looking for vs, each of them tooke his Asse, and away we go. By the way I told them the whole successe of the businesse: they blest themselues, when they heard of it, and much pitied my case. But because they could not helpe it, they commit∣ted it to God. My selfe and my Companion, what with the long time that was spent in this broyle, and the haste we had to be gone, wee went away without hearing Masse; seeming rather to flie, then go foorth of the Towne. I (for my part) neuer mist Masse before, being accustomed all my life-time to that daily exercise of deuotion. From that time forward, it entred into my * 1.148 head, That from so bad a beginning, it was impossible to looke for a good en∣ding. And that now, nothing could succeed well and happily vnto me. And so it fell out, as you shall heare hereafter. Nor can it be otherwise expe∣cted, when we serue our selues, and not God first; and not be∣gin with him, before we begin our businesse.

CHAP. VII.

Mans misfortune is here discoursed of, and to that purpose you haue a story told you of the gods of those ancienter times: And how Guzman, being thought to bee a Thiefe, was apprehended; but afterwards being knowne what he was, hee was set at liberty. One of the Clergie-men promiseth to tell vs a story, to entertaine the time withall, vpon the way.

THe Egyptians, a great while ago, in those times of old being notable Sooth-sayers, (as indeed they were) a∣mongst * 1.149 many other errours, which they had, this was one amongst the rest, that they adored Fortune, as a Goddesse; verily beleeuing, that there was some such thing indeed. To her, they celebrated a Feast on the first day of the yeere, preparing sumptuous Tables, ma∣king great Feasts and costly Banquets, in a thankefull acknowledgment of the fore-passed yeare, and intreating her fauour, for that which was to come. They were fully perswaded, that this Goddesse was she, that had the disposall of all things, giuing and taking away at her pleasure, as supreme Gouernesse ouer all humane things. This they did, because they wanted the knowledge of one onely true God, whom we adore and worship, by whose powerfull hand, and diuine will, heauen and earth are gouerned, and whatsoeuer is created in them both, be it visible, or inuisible. It seemed somewhat strange vnto them, and were touched therewith to the quicke, when misfortunes began to light vpon them; to see how one mischiefe came vpon the necke of another; one no sooner past, but another at the heeles of them, not giuing them one hower of ease and quiet, neuer making an end, till they had made an end of man, and quite ouerthrowne him horse and foot: And how againe at another time (like so many Cowards) they come trooping all at once vpon vs, and neuer leaue assaulting vs, till they haue vtterly ruin'd vs, and throwne this our house of clay downe to the ground.

And on the contrary side againe, the time doth not ascend with that nim∣blenesse and quicke motion to the top of the highest mountaines, as Fortune doth eleuate and lift men vp by wayes and meanes, neither seene, nor thought vpon, neuer suffering them to continue still firme, either in the one, or t'o∣ther estate; to the end that he that is deiected, may not despaire; and hee that is exalted, may not presume. If the light of faith were wanting vnto me, as it was vnto them, I might (giuing credit to this their errour) happely say, when such like misfortunes should befall me; Bien veng as mal, si solo vienes. Welcome is that misfortune which comes alone: yesterday morning I did complaine of little vvearinesse, and of the two demy-Chickens that I had to dinner, going disguized in your Hermits habit, as vnwilling to be knowne. Afterwards, I came to make my supper vpon the stinking panch of a young Mule; and which was worse, to feed vpon the flesh and braines thereof, which vvas all one in a manner, as if I should haue deuoured mine owne flesh; I meane, by his a 1.150 fathers side; vvhich may be euery mans case, as well as mine. And for an vpshot of all, the ill lucke that I had at last, to be coozened of my Cloake. Poco danno espanta, y mucho amansa: little losses doe onely startse and amaze men at the first, but great ones do quell and daunt a man, making him as gentle as a Lambe.

What treason hath beene plotted against me? vvhat squint-ey'd Starre hath scowl'd vpon me? vvhat misfortune followed me, since I came from home? For from the time, that I first put foorth of doores, all things haue

gone amisse with me, one mischance being the fore-runner of another, and the sad presager of worser things to come, which like a double Tertian went increasing vpon me, euery fit being vvorse and more violent, then the former, not allowing me the least intervallum of time, or any space or respit in the vvorld to take any rest.

Mans life is a warre-fare vpon earth, there is no certainty therein; no set∣tled * 1.151 assurance, no estate that is permanent; no pleasure that is perfect; no con∣tent that is true; but all is counterfeit and vaine. Wilt thou see, that this is true? Then hearken to that which I shall tell thee.

The great god Iupiter (for so the Poets faigne him) hauing created all things vpon earth; and man to be the enioyer of them, commanded the god Con∣tent, to reside in the world, not beleeuing, nor preuenting the ingratitude, which afterwards they fell into, following their owne proper pleasures and delights, and bearing themselues in a high and proud fashion: for hauing this god continuing amongst them, they did not so much as thinke on any other. To him they did sacrifice, to him they offered their oblations, his name they celebrated with ioy; and to him onely did they sing Songs of prayse and thanksgiuing. Iupiter scorning this contempt, and being mightily offended * 1.152 vvith man for this strange neglect, called a Councell of the gods; and when they were all assembled together, he made vnto them a long Discourse, wher∣in he informed them, of the euill Correspondence which man held with him, for that they did onely adore Content, as their true god; not considering the benefits vvhich they had receiued from his prodigall hand, being meerely his workmanship, and by him created of nothing. And that therefore they should deliuer their Opinions, vvhat order was to be taken, for the redres∣sing of so foule an abuse; and vvhat Medicines to be applied for the curing of this their madnesse.

Some of the milder gods, out of their tender hearts, and mercifull na∣tures, spake thus vnto Iupiter:

Man, you know, is but a weake kind of creature, framed of a frayle and brittle matter, a corruptible substance, soone dissolu'd and turn'd to nothing; and therefore we thinke it fit, that they should be holpen and held vp by vs, and that we should yeeld them our succour and assistance in all that we can: For, if it were possible, that vve could exchange fortunes with them, and vvere in the same state and condition as they are, and euery way equall with them, I doubt me, vve should do iust as they do. And therefore we are not to make any great reckoning of the matter: but if we doe, and that they must be proceeded against, we for our parts are verily perswaded, that some mild and gentle correction will be a sufficient remedy for the present.

Momus would faine haue spoke his mind, and his tongue itch't to bee let loose, hauing already entred into some free language, and would haue lash't out farther, had he not beene commanded to hold his peace, and to forbeare till it came to his turne, and then he should haue a full hearing. Hee would gladly haue taken hold on that occasion, to haue incensed Iupiter, because it did so fairely offer it selfe vnto him: but obeying for the present, he meditated in the meane while on a long Oration, vvhich he meant should make for his purpose, vvhen it came to his turne to speake. Howbeit, there were not some wanting in the interim, of equall (almost) condition vvith himselfe, and of the same humour, vvho stood vp and said:

It is not fit (great god of Heauen) to leaue so heynous a fault vnpunished: for the offence is infinit, being committed against so infinit a Maiestie; and therefore the punishment ought likewise to be infinit. Our opinion is, that they should be vtterly destroyed, and made an end of at once, and neuer to haue any more of them created anew; for there is no necessity at all of their being and liuing in the world, but may very well be spared.

others vvould not agree to that motion, but did hold it fit, that great store of Thunder-bolts, with fearfull flashes of Lightning, should be throwne downe vpon them, and consume them all; and that others more good should be created a-new.

Thus as they were deliuering their opinions, being more or lesse rigo∣rous, according to their seuerall qualities and complexions, till it came to A∣pollo's turne to speake, who crauing leaue of the House, and their fauour obtained, in a graue voice, and with a cheerefull countenance, he thus exprest himselfe:

Supreme Scepter-swaying Iupiter, highest amongst the gods, both in pow∣er, * 1.153 and in pitie: That grieuous accusation, wherewith thou chargest Man, is so iust, that we can not gaine-say, or contradict any vengeance, vvhich thou shalt take of them. Yet withall, I can not (out of that great respect which I beare vnto thee) but vtter what I thinke, and plainly to shew vnto thee, what I haue conceiued in my minde, my words being as free from passion, as I hope they shall be from offence.

If thou destroy the world, in vaine then are those things, which thou hast therein created; and it were imperfection in thee, to vn-make that, which thou hast already made; only for to mend that which thou now findest amisse: Much lesse, vvould I haue thee to repent thy selfe that thou hast made Man; for that will be but to discredit thy selfe and thine owne worke. Besides, how can it stand with the power and goodnesse of a Creator, to take too strict a course against his Creature, and to exceed, by extraordinary meanes, in his chastisements?

To destroy these that are now liuing, and to create others a-new, I hold that not so fit to be done by thee. For thou must either giue them, or not giue them free-will: if thou giue them it, they must necessarily then be such man∣ner of men, as their fore-fathers were: If thou not giue it them, they shall not be men: And so thou shalt haue created in vaine that so great and glorious a frame of Heauen, Earth, Starres, Moone, Sunne, together with the compo∣sition of the Elements, and millions more of things, which thou hast made in so exact a manner, and such a singular perfection. So that (which impor∣teth your seruice, if you will be pleased to take it into consideration) there remaineth but one thing to be done to set all right againe, without seeking for any other remedy; or that you shall be driuen to vse any violent or rigorous proceeding against them, to the preiudice of your clemencie.

Thou (O Iupiter) gau'st them the God Content, vvhom they were to haue with them as long as it pleased thee, and no longer: for vpon thy will and pleasure, all things both in Heauen and earth haue their dependency. Now, had they beene so wise, that they could haue continued thankefull towards thee, and haue conserued themselues in iustice and obedience towards thee, it had been a thing repugnant to the goodnesse of thy nature and iustice, not to vphold and protect them, by inlarging thy fauours towards them, and mul∣tiplying thy blessings vpon them. But since they haue dis-merited this by disobedience, thou oughtest in some sort to punish them. For it is not fit, that they should in tyrannous manner, & with a strong hand possesse these so great blessings, to offend thee thereby: But thou oughtest rather to take this their god from them, and in his stead to send downe his brother Discontent a∣mongst them, who is very like in fauour vnto him, and doth resemble him so neere, that a man can hardly discerne the one from the other. And so by this meanes, they will euer hereafter come to acknowledge their own misery, and thy mercy; thy happy estate, and their owne wretched condition; thy ease, and their trouble; their paine, and thy glory; thy power, and their owne weakenesse. And then, as thou shalt see cause, thou maist distribute thy fa∣uours to those that shall deserue them; and according to thy louing kindnesse

recompence euery man according to thine owne good will and pleasure, not making thy benefits alike common to the good and the bad, by suffering all men equally to enioy one and the same happinesse. This course being taken with them, I am of opinion, that it will not onely be a sufficient punishment vnto them; but will also bring them to a due acknowledgement of their er∣rour. I haue spoke my minde and shall now leaue it vnto thee (thou mercy∣imbracing Iupiter) to doe that herein which shall sute best with thine owne good liking, and shall make most for thy seruice.

With this briefe aduice, he ended his Oration. Then Momus, with his * 1.154 venemous tongue, began to lay about him; labouring to exaggerate the of∣fence, and to set it forth in its vilest colours, induced thereunto not so much for goodnesse sake, as that inueterated hatred which he euermore bare vnto mankinde. But notice being taken of his passion (which was a knowne disease in him) his opinion was reproued, and cryde downe by the generall voice of that highest Court of Parliament: All commending the motion that vvas made by Apollo. The execution of whose speech was (with an vnanimous * 1.155 consent) committed to Mercury: Who presently (spreading his wings, and breaking with them through the ayre) descended downe vpon the earth, where he found the men of this world with their god, Content, feeding and making merry together, doing him all the honour they could deuise, being farre from any the least thought, that this their god should (while the world indured) be alienated from their possession.

Mercury came to this god, where he was; and hauing in secret deliuered the Embassage vnto him, sent from the gods aboue, was (though sore against his will) inforced to yeeld thereunto. The men were herevpon in an vprore, and sought to hinder it all they could, and began with might and maine to in∣terest themselues in the cause; and seeing that there was no remedy, but that this their god must be taken away from them, they stroue to defend him with all the strength they could make; and taking strong hold of him, they tugged hard for him, as desirous to retaine him still amongst them.

Iupiter perceiuing how the vvorld vvent, and what a coyle they kept about him, came downe amongst them, and whilest these men were busied in laying fast hold on his cloathes, (vsing a pretty slight) he cunningly conuay'd away Content from amidst his cloathes, leauing them Discontent in his stead, with the same cloathes, and the very same habit of raiment, wherewith Content was at that time apparelled, taking him from thence away with him to hea∣uen. Wherewith the men that were in this broyle were very well pleased (though thus deceiued) thinking that they had preuailed in their purpose, and obtained vvhat they desired, since they had their god still amongst them: But it vvas not so well with them, as they thought it to be.

This errour of those former times (the same deceit yet liuing still amongst them) hath continued euen to this present age. Men did thinke that Content remained stil with them, and that they had him sure inough heere vpon earth. But it is nothing so; for it is onely the bare raiment, and outward shape and resemblance, which they inioy with them; and Discontent, clapt into his cloathes. And if thou beleeue otherwise, or conceiu'st the contrary, thou art vvide of the truth, and a meere stranger thereunto. Wilt thou, that I make this plaine vnto thee? Marke well then what I shall say vnto thee.

Weigh and consider with thy selfe, in any kinde of manner thou thy selfe shalt deuise: the Feasts, the Sports, the Bankets, the Musicks, all the delights and ioyes, and whatsoeuer else may most moue thy inclination to the highest point of all, which thine owne desire can suggest and paint forth vnto thee to the life. If I shall aske thee by the way, Whither goest thou? Thou wilt an∣swere me perhaps, and that very proudly: To such a feast of Content. I giue it for granted, that there thou doest receiue it, and that the place doth affoord it

thee; the Gardens being fresh and full of flowers; the Riuers plated with their siluer-streames, and that the Fountaines distilling their drops of pearle, may much cheere and glad thy heart. I suppose that thou hast banketed thy selfe in sweet and pleasant Arbours, where neither the Sunne did offend thee, nor the ayre annoy thee. And that thou didst inioy thy desires to their full height, & that thou hadst all the sports & pastimes that a man could wish. Yet notwithstanding, there is no contentment so absolute in this vvorld, which is not watred vvith some sorrow. And though in all these things thou hadst no distaste at all giuen thee; but hadst euery thing according to thine owne mind: yet when thou returnest home to thine own house; or layest thee down in thy bed to take thy rest it is not possible but thou shalt find thy selfe weary, dusty & sweaty, to haue lost thy stomake, or taken cold, to grow heauy, me∣lancholly, and sad; and peraduenture become either mad, or dead. For amidst our greatest pleasures, happen the greatest misfortunes: And are vsually wont to be vnto vs Vespers of feare, and of horrour; and not Vespers, vvhere the night passeth merrily away from the beginning to the middle, and from the middle to the end: for in the midst of this thy idolatry, all shall bee taken from thee. Set not thy heart therefore vpon them; but slight them, and let them goe by, as if thou didst not know them: for there is no trust to be had in them.

Now, by this time, (I doubt not) but thou wilt ingenuously confesse, that this disguise did deceiue thee, these cloathes coozen thee, and this maske so blinde thy eye-sight; That whereas thou didst verily thinke, that thou hadst Content now safe inough in thy hands, thou hadst nothing more but his out∣ward raiment; and in it, Discontent. Now doest thou see, how there is no Content vpon the earth; and that our true Content is onely in Heauen. And * 1.156 therefore, till thou meet with it there; doe not looke for it heere.

When I resolued on my departure, (O good God) what a deale of content did represent it selfe vnto me? Me thought, the very thought of it wrought wonderfully vpon me, apprehending no happinesse to be equall vnto this. With these eyes of my imagination, I beheld onely Aprill, and the beauty of the Fields in that season; not so much as once thinking on the August, that * 1.157 was to come after: As if I vvere to suffer nothing, and had been made of some impossible substance, that could not be subiect to perturbations; or these foo∣lish crosses of the world. Those long and euen wayes, I conceited as things, that I was not to goe; at least, not to be wearied with them. To eate and drinke at your Innes, and other the like vittailing houses, (as one that did not know what kinde of Vermine, these bloud-suckers were,) I thought they vvould haue giuen me my meat for nothing; or if they did take money for it, that it would haue beene much better then what you haue heard me tell you. The variety and greatnesse of things; as Birds, Beasts, Mountaines, Woods, Cities, and whatsoeuer was inhabited with people, as if I had them all already in my hand, all did figure forth vnto me content, and nothing but content; but could not finde it in any thing, but in a good and honest life.

I did frame in the fabricke of my braine, Castles of Content, and that all things should succeed prosperously with me, and that where-soeuer I came, I should meet with my Mother, that should make much of me, and my Maid, that should make me vnready, and bring my supper to bed to mee, and that should helpe me on in the morning with my cloathes, and fetch me my break∣fast. Good God, who vvould thinke, that the world were so large and so long as it is? I had seene it in some Maps, and me thought it was all plaine and smooth, and huddled (as it seemed there to be) all together, without any great either difference, or distance. I did not imagine, there could haue been * 1.158 so many troubles, and so many miseries in it. But to say, I neuer thought it, is a thing that betrayes a man to haue lineally descended of a race of Coxcombs,

it is a property, that belongs onely vnto fooles; it is the excuse of rude and ignorant Asses, the childs helpe, and the carelesse mans refuge. For he that is wise and discreet, ought euer to thinke on things afore-hand, to fore-cast the worst; and to preuent a mischiefe before it come.

But I did like a simple Youth, (as I was) hauing neither wit nor gouern∣ment in me; and therefore I was iustly punished, for that liuing so at ease as I did; and being as it were in Paradise, I would goe abroad into the world; and like my first fore-fathers, could not see when I was well, but I know not out of what vaine humour, must goe seeke after the knowledge of good, and ill. How many things began I then to call to minde, when I came out of the Inne without my Cloake, and was not onely coozened, but made a common laughing stocke, to as many as lookt vpon me! I, would faine haue then beene feeding on the flesh-pots of Egypt: O how I did long to be at home againe! But (as the saying is) elbien, hasta que se pierde, no se conoçe. Man knowes not * 1.159 what happinesse is, till he want it.

We were all sad and heauy, and iogged on along in a sullen and melancholy kinde of fashion; and now my honest Carrier was no more so full of his laughing, as he was before; the winde was laid in that corner, by the tricke that mine Host had put vpon him. Before, he threw stones on my house top, thinking to breake the Tyles, and cracke my Roofe: but when hee found his owne to be made of glasse, he left his flinging, with-drew his hand, and kept himselfe quiet. It is lesse ill, and more discretion to consider with a mans * 1.160 selfe, before he speake, what he may chance to heare; and before that he doe a wrong, whether it may be returned vpon himselfe, or no? It is not good for a man to thrust himselfe wilfully into danger. For when a man shall take too much liberty to himselfe; he shall finde a tongue for a tongue, and a hand for a hand. All things haue their equall measure; like doe, like haue: And he that will be honoured of all, must honour all.

If it enter not (yet at least it ought) into thy consideration, that what thou hast said or done in secret, either shall, or may be pu•…•…shed by some one or o∣ther to the world, and that thou maist meet with such a one, that either in word, or in deed, may reply that vnto thee, which thou wouldst not vvil∣lingly heare, and lesse indure: Doe not stand vpon thy strength, nor rely too much on thine owne might: For though thy affront be not written in thy fore-head; yet will it be made knowne to all the world. Doe not make those thy enemies, whom with good vsage thou maist make thy friends. For it is not good to haue any enemy at all, though neuer so weake. For from a little sparke, ariseth oftentimes a great flame. What thing's so faire and beautifull in it selfe; what more worthy wise-men; what more befitting braue spirits and valiant Gentlemen; then to measure their action by the rule of reason, to bridle and reine in their passions, and to carry an euen hand in all that they doe; to the end that they may not act any thing vn-aduisedly, and put them∣selues vpon extremities? Doest thou not see, how the world is now altred with our Carrier? He was now as silent as the night, not a word that comes from him. He laughs no more, but hangs downe his head in his bosome, not daring for shame to lift it vp. Our good honest Clergy-men rode mum∣bling their Mattins to themselues; I was thinking on mine owne mis-for∣tunes: and when all and euery one of vs were as it were in a wood, euen in the thickest of all our contemplations, (euery man thinking vpon his owne busi∣nesse) two Ministers of iustice, with their Officers at their heeles, came in pursuit of a Page, that had stolne from his Master great store of money and iewels. And by the markes that were giuen them; it should seeme it was * 1.161 such another strippling as my selfe. They had no sooner spide me, but they cryde out aloud: Ah thou thiefe, haue we caught thee? wee haue thee safe e∣nough now, thou canst not escape our hands: And presently hereupon they

strooke me off the Asse (my brother) with their Fists; and when they had me downe, laying fast hold on me, they fell a searching mee, thinking to haue found the stolne-goods about me.

They tooke off the Pack-saddles, searched the Pannels, leauing not so much * 1.162 roome, as you may put a pins-head betweene, which they did not narrowly pry into: and when they could find nothing there, then they beganne to ex∣claime, and cry out vpon me; Ah, thou thiefe, confesse and tell vs the truth; for we will hang thee here presently, if thou delay vs any longer. They would not heare me, nor admit of any excuse I could make for my selfe; and in despight of the world, without any other cause giuen, (saue their own selfe-will and opinion) I, and no other man, must needs be the fellow. They gaue me many blowes, thumpes on the brest, boxes on the eare with the backes of their hands, and many other outrages, wherewith they tormented * 1.163 me, and all, that I might not be suffered by them to speake for myselfe, and to pronounce something in mine owne defence. And although it did much grieue me, to see how ill I was vsed by them, yet I could not choose but laugh to my selfe, for that my companion was worse dealt withall; laying more load and harder blowes vpon him, than me, as a receiuer and concealer of this theft, and that he was my partner and sharer therein.

Doest thou not here perceiue the peruerse inclination of men, who haue scarce any feeling of their owne miseries, when they see those of their ene∣mies, to be greater then their owne? I was not halfe Cater-cousins with him, because by his meanes, I had lost my Cloake, and sup't vpon a Mule. And therefore I did beare mine owne hurt the better, because hee suffered some∣what more than my selfe. They did beat him without mercy; they had no pitie of him in the world, but were still bawlling vpon him, that hee should discouer, whither he had carried these goods? and to what secret place hee had conueyd them?

The poore man that was as innocent as my selfe, and as free from any such fault, as the child that is new borne, did not know in the world what to doe. He thought at first that they had beene but in iest with him; but when he saw they were in earnest, and past so farre beyond the bounds of sport, and that it was now no longer a iesting matter, * 1.164 He curst the dead to the diuell, & all those that should but shed a teare for him. This sport did nothing please him, and wisht by this time with all his heart, that he had neuer seene mee. The Gowne (as they say) was now brusht cleane, not a specke to bee seene; all was vnfolded, and searched ouer and ouer, but nothing at all to bee found: and though the theft appeared not, yet the rigour of their punishing ceased not: But as if they had the Law in their owne hands, or had beene to fit vp∣on vs as our lawfull Iudges, they did vse vs most cruelly both in word and deed: perhaps it was giuen them so in charge amongst other their instructi∣ons. Now they being weary with punching vs, and wee with suffering it, they began to bind our hands, and pinion our armes, to carry vs backe vvith them to Seuill.

Let it be in thy Letany, that God would deliuer thee from committing any offence against these three Holy's; The holy a 1.165 Inquisition, the holy b 1.166 Hermandad, and the holy c 1.167 Crusada: But if thou bee faulty, then pray, That the Lord would deliuer thee from the holy Hermandad: for the other Holy's, hauing (as they haue) vpright Iudges, men of truth, knowledge, and Conscience; their Ministers notwithstanding and vnder-Officers, are of a different condition. And your Sergeants and Catch-poles belonging to the holy Hermandad, are in the generall, a kind of most lewd and wicked people; men without Soules, and not worthy to be spoken of, or named amongst honest men. And very many of them, for a very little matter, will not sticke to sweare that against thee, which thou neuer didst, nor they neuer saw, more then the money which

they tooke, to beare false witnesse against thee, (vnlesse thou bestow the wine vpon them, or otherwise content them, by greasing their fist.) They are in conclusion, of a rascall kind of race; very Varlets, Buckle-bosomes, Collar-catchers: in a word, they are Sergeants, and Catch-poles; and so by conse∣quence, theeues, passants, or but an Ace lesse; and (as we shall tell you hereaf∣ter) those that rob the Common-wealth where-soeuer they come, as if they had a Commission for these their open thefts. And now (my honest Serge∣ant) me thinkes I heare thee mutter, that I speake amisse; telling mee, that thou (for thy part) art a very honest man, and dost exercise thy Office well, without abuse vnto any. I confesse as much, and say, that thou art such an one, and that I know thee to be so. But tell me, my friend, (and let vs speake it in secret betweene our selues, that no body may heare vs) doest not thou know, (and confesse ingenuously) that this is truth which I speake of thy fellowes? if thou knowst as much, (as thou canst not choose) and that it is so indeed; I talke to them, and not to thee.

Now had we quite lost our Clergy-men, we shooke hands with them at the first, who walked afoot their way, and we ours. Shall I tell you, vvhat I thought with my selfe? if you will giue me the hearing, I will. Trust me, all the blowes that I receiued, nay, Death it selfe, would not haue beene halfe so grieuous vnto me, as to see my selfe brought backe againe, in this manner to mine owne Countrey, if their resolution had held: if they had carried me to any place, where I was vnknowne to it, and it vnto me, it had not beene a Pins-poynt matter. I should haue set light by it, and cast it at my heele, e∣specially considering, that in the end I must be set at libertie, and come off cleare; and that the truth would at last shew it selfe, and make it knowne to the world that I was not the man, they took me to be. We were drawn along like dogges in a paire of couples, afflicted in that manner as thou mayst ima∣gine, (if euer the like misfortune should happen vnto thee.) I know not how it came to passe, (but so it was) that one amongst the rest lookt stedfastly vp∣on me, and said to one that was by him; How now, what's this? I feare mee we haue taken our marke amisse, and through our too much haste, haue run into an errour. The other answered; Why thinke you so? Hee replide; Doe not you know, that he; whom we are to seeke after, wants his left Thumbe; and this Youth you see, is sound in that part? Whereupon they went to read their a 1.168 Requisitoria, which did set downe the markes, whereby they should know him, and they found they had beene deceiued almost in euery one of them. But questionlesse, they had a great desire to beat some-body, and so fell vpon him that came first to hand. Presently thereupon, they vn-pinion'd vs, and loosed our hands, and crauing pardon, that they were so much mistaken, they went their way, and left vs soundly payd for our paines; taking some few b 1.169 Quarto's of the Carrier, for the sight of the Commission, to moysten their mouthes herewith, at the next Inne that they should light on.

No ay mal tan malo, de que no resulte algo bueno.

There is no ill so bad, from whence there doth not arise some good. If they had not stolne my Cloake from me, by hauing that vpon my backe, they would not haue perceiued, whether I had beene sound of my thumbes, or no? But had it so falne out, that they should haue come to know any such thing by me, it had come so out of season, that rather then I would haue con∣fest the fact, I would haue first indured a thousand torments. In euery thing I had very good fortune. My money spent, my Cloake stolne, my belly hun∣gry, * 1.170 my cheekes buffeted, my necke out of ioynt, and my teeth bathed in blood, with the bobs on my nose, and the dashes that they gaue mee on the mouth. My Companion, if he were not worse, was no lesse ill intreated then my selfe. And when they had vs'd vs both thus hardly, to make vs amends, they cry vs mercy, saying; That we are not the men. I pray marke, what a

pretty kind of pardon this was, and in what good time it came: first, they fall a beating of vs, before they examine vs; and when they haue almost maimed vs, to make vs amends, forsooth, they aske vs forgiuenesse.

The Clergy-men were now neere at hand, we presently ouertake them; they blest themselues when they saw vs. But I vp and told them, what was the cause of our liberty; for my Companion was so bang'd about the chappes, that he durst not dare to speake, for feare he should spit out his grinders.

Euery one got vpon his Asse, and we began to spurre on, but not with our heeles; because with them we were not able to reach to our Saddle-skirts. And I assure you in good faith, it were a world to tell you, what a bargaine we had of it; how the Faire went, and what a market we made of it.

Then said the younger of the two Clerkes; No more of this (my friends) it is enough. That we may forget part of these sorrowes past, and intertaine the way with some merriment; when my Companion hath ended his a 1.171 De∣uotion, I shall relate a Story vnto you; much whereof happened in Seuill. We tooke it all as a fauour; and the other hauing now ended his Orizons, atten∣ding this Discourse with a deepe silence, and an earnest desire, wee lookt still when he should begin.

CHAP. VIII. Wherein Guzman de Alfarache relateth the Story of those two Louers, Ozmin and Daraxa.

THE ARGVMENT.

How Ferdinand and Isabell, King & Queene of Spaine, tooke Baça, a Citty of the Moores, wherein Daraxa a beautifull and noble Damozell was taken prisoner, whom Queene Isabell brought with her to Seuill, and there left her in the custo∣die of Don Luys de Padilla. And how Ozmin a young Gentleman well descend∣ed, and inamoured of that Lady, after he had suffered long sicknesse for the impri∣sonment of his faire Daraxa, went to the said City; together with the diuers ac∣cidents that happened to them both.

AS soone as they had mumbled vp their prayers, (which they quickly dispatch't) they shut their Prayer-bookes, and put∣ting them in their Alforjas, (which is a kind of Wallet) all of vs giuing diligent eare vnto him, the good Priest began his promised History after this manner:

The Catholike Kings Don Ferdinand, and Donna Isabella, being at the Siege of Baça, it was so well fought on both sides, (being as braue∣ly defended, as it was valiantly assaulted) that for a long time it was not knowne vvhich side had the better, or vvhere the aduantage vvas like to fall, (Fortune had so equally spred her wings.) For albeit, the Kings Forces were the greater, and did exceed the other in number of men; yet the Moores (be∣ing likewise many) were vvonderfully strengthened by the good disposition of the situation of that City.

The Queene Donna Isabell remained in Iaen, making prouision of all things necessary for the Campe. And the King Don Ferdinand vvent foorth in per∣son to supply the Army; which hee diuided into two parts: In the one he planted his Ordinance, recommending the care thereof to the Marquesses of Cadiz, and Aquila, to Luys Fernandez Portocarrero, Lord of Palma, and to the Commendadores of Alcantara and Calatrana, besides other Captaines and

Souldiers. In the other himselfe vvas incamped, accompanied with the chiefe of his Nobilitie and Gentry, and most experienced men of Armes; so hedging in the Citie on euery side, that it seemed as a Center in the midst of a large Circle.

The two Campes lay some halfe League the one from the other, if the compasse had runne right; but because their passage was stopt, they belea∣guerd the other halfe along by the mountaine; and by this meanes were di∣stanced one from the other a League or thereabouts: and because they could hardly succour one another, they agreed (the Councell of Warre hauing so thought it fit) to make certaine Trenches and Castles; which the King in his owne person did often visit. And albeit the Moores did labour by all meanes possible, to hinder this designe, yet the Christians made good their Worke, valiantly defending what they had vndertaken; there being not a day that past ouer their heads, wherein there vvere not two or three (if not more) skirmi∣shes that past betweene them; many on both sides being both hurt and slaine. But because the worke, (being a thing of so great importance) should not cease vpon those that wrought thereon, a sufficient Gard did continually at∣tend both night and day: it happened, that Don Rodrigo, and Don Hortado de Mendonça, Adelantado of Caçorla, and Don Sancho de Castilla, beeing of the Gard; the King commanded them to make good that place, till that the Condees of Cabra, and Urenna, and the Marquesse of Astorga should enter with their Regiments for a certaine exploit that was to be put in execution. The Moores, who (as hath beene said) were very watchfull, seeking to di∣sturbe the worke, descended from the top of the mountaine with some 3000. Foot, and 400. Horse, and set vpon Don Rodrigo de Mendonça. The Adelan∣tado and Don Sancho began the fight with them; and now the battell growing hot betweene them, the Moores were relieued by many other that sallied out of the City. King Ferdinand being there present, and seeing how things went, commanded the Condee de Tendilla, that he should assaile them on the other side, so that the battell by this time grew very bloody on both sides.

The King then seeing the streight wherein the Condee vvas, and that hee was wounded, manfully fighting against the Moores, he gaue order to the Master de Santiago to assist with his forces on the one side, and to the Mar∣quesse of Cadiz, the Duke of Nagera, and the Comendadors of Calatraua, and to Françisco de Bouadilla, that they should charge them with their troopes, vvhere the Artillery was planted. The Moores thereupon drew foorth ano∣ther third Squadron against them, and it vvas brauely fought on both sides, as vvell by the Moores as the Christians. And the King being himselfe in this conflict, discouered by those of his Campe, they armed vvith all the haste they could, and vvent foorth to ayde him. And so thicke vvere the Troopes of those that came to succour him, that the Moores being vnable any longer to make resistance, betooke themselues to flight, the Christians still hauing them in chase, making great slaughter of them; pursuing them euen to the very sub∣urbes of the Citie; vvhereinto many of the Souldiers entred, and got rich pil∣lage; taking some of the principall persons prisoners; in which number was Daraxa, a Moorish Damosell, the onely daughter of the Alcalde of that Fort. Her beauty was her owne, and the most perfect one, that euer eye had seene: her yeeres vvere rather shorter, then full seuenteene; being so well growne in the bud, that she vvas now ready for the blowing. And beeing in this true height of excellencie, as is here set downe, it was raised much the higher by her discretion, grauity, and gracefull carriage: She spake Spanish so well, that a man that had not knowne her, vvould haue taken her to haue beene an old Christian: for she might haue past amongst those that speake the pu∣rest Language.

The King did highly esteeme of this Lady, accounting of her as of a iewell

of great price. And therefore sent her as a treasure to the Queene his Wife, who made no lesse reckning of her, receiuing her very graciously, as well for her owne desert and worth, for that she was of principall ranke and qualitie, being descended of Kings, and the daughter of so honourable a person; as al∣so for to try whether she might be a meanes to make the Citie to yeeld, with∣out farther fight, and shedding of bloud. Whereupon she treated her with all kindnesse, and the best vsage shee could deuise, farre exceeding the fashi∣on of those her other Ladies, which were neerest about her person. So that, not as a Captiue, but as a Kinswoman, she entertained her in the kindest man∣ner that could be, greatly desiring, that such an excellent piece of nature as she was, and where such surpassing beauty did possesse the body, there the soule might not with fowle Paganisme be sullied and defiled. These were suf∣ficient reasons of themselues to haue her still in her sight, besides the content she receiued in talking and conuersing with her. For shee was able to giue her so good an account of the state of the whole Country, and of euery parti∣cular passage in those warres (though she were but of yong and tender yeeres) as if she had been of maturer age, and the wisest Counsellor in the Kingdom. And albeit the King and Queene hapned afterwards to meet in Baça, (that Citie being rendred vp into their hands vpon certaine conditions) yet the Queene would neuer suffer Daraxa to be from her side, for that great affecti∣on which she bare vnto her, promising the Alcalde her father, to doe her many particular fauours. Her absence did much grieue him: but the loue which he saw their Catholike Maiesties bare vnto her, did somwhat lessen his sorrow, conceiuing that much honour and profit would redound vnto her thereby: And so rested himselfe contented, and pocketed vp his griefe in si∣lence. The Queene (as I told you) would neuer be without her, and at length carried her along with her vnto Seuill; where, out of the desire shee had to winne her to be a Christian, for to dispose her thereunto by little and by little, vsing no violent, but tractable meanes; she tooke her one day aside, and said thus vnto her:

Thou canst not by this time (Daraxa) but truely vnderstand how well I affect thee, and the great desire I haue had to giue thee content: In requitall whereof, I shall intreat thee for my sake to grant me one request; which is, that thou wilt exchange this attire thou now wearest, and put on such cloathes as I shall inuest thee withall, appertaining to mine owne person; and to weare, and enioy them, being that thy beauty will be much aduantaged by this habit of ours.

Daraxa mildly made answere; I shall willingly performe, what your Maiesty shall be pleased to command me. For, by obeying you herein, (if there be any discretion in mee, or any consideration of worth in this my weake apprehension,) I shall from this day forward thinke the better of it, and hold it for good, for doubtlesse it cannot be otherwise, but that these your Maie∣sties ornaments will adde a grace to my imperfections, and your rich dres∣sings supply my poore defects.

Daraxa (replide the Queene) it is not your modesty that can make you derogate from your selfe. For if euer Nature made a perfect worke, shee sum'd it all vp in thy selfe. But not to insist vpon the praise of that, which can not sufficiently be expressed, we graciously accept of this your seruice, and the willing tender you make thereof vnto vs.

Now was Daraxa apparelled after the Spanish fashion, residing certaine dayes in the Palace, till such time as their Catholike Maiesties departed from thence, to goe to the siege of Granada. And therefore as well for the troubles that attend the Warres; as also that she might take some sauour in the things of our Faith, the Queene thought it fit to leaue her in the house of Don Luys de Padilla (a man of quality and a Fauourite) where shee might entertaine

her selfe with Donna Eluira de Guzman, his Daughter and a Virgin; to whom was giuen in charge, the care of her entertainment, with expresse order to vse her with all respect; and that shee should want nothing that might giue her content. And albeit she were accordingly receiued by them, being feasted and courted with all the pleasures that place could affoord; yet it grieued her much to see her selfe so farre from her natiue home, besides other causes, which gaue her much more discontent, but those shee did not discouer; for vvith a cheerefull countenance, and a pleasant semblance, shee made show, that seeing it was her Maiesties pleasure so to dispose of her, that shee did esteeme it as a fauour; and so did expresse it in her lookes and gesture.

This Damsell, her Parents had betrothed to a Moorish Gentleman of Granada, whose name was Ozmin: whose qualitie and condition, together with his disposition, was in all points sutable to that of Daraxa. Hee was young, rich, of a sweet behauiour, personable, discreet, and aboue all very valiant, and full of courage, and euery one of these parts well adapted, and disposed to receiue many other, which as they were fit for him, so they did well become him. Besides, he was so dextrous in the Spanish tongue, as if hee had been bred vp in the heart of Casiile, and a naturall of that Countrey: (it being a thing as worthy commendation in vertuous young men, as it is a glo∣ry to those parents, who breed vp their children in the knowledge of tongues, and exercise of Armes.) He lou'd his espoused Lady with all the tendernesse that a Louer could, insomuch that hee did (in a manner) commit idola∣try, out of the reuerence and respect that he bare vnto her; and would (might hee be suffered so to doe) haue set vp her Statua vpon the highest Altars. On her, hee did wholly imploy his memory; for her all his sences kept continuall watch and ward, and his will was more hers, then his owne: Nor was his Spouse (who was made all of thankefulnesse) any whit his debtor. Their loue was as equall, as was their qualitie, and their affection did truely correspond with their euen condition. But surpassing all the rest, was that most honest course of life; wherein they conserued themselues. The sweetnesse of those discourses which by Letters passed betweene them, those louely messages which were sent to and fro each to other, can not be indeered according to their true desert. They had visited & seen one another very often, but neuer treated of loue mouth to mouth. But their speaking eyes parled many times, when their tongues were silent, which neuer omitted the oc∣casion to talke together. For both of them many yeeres before, and yet not ve∣ry many, because they were both but young, but to speake more properly, had euen from their child-hood loued and visited each other at their pleasure. The parents were knit in so perfect a friendship, and their children in such streight knots of the fastest loue, that to make this harmony the fuller, they did all de∣sire to be neerer linked (if possibly it might be) by a strong Alliance: And by this marriage it had taken effect, had it not, when all was in a manner con∣cluded, beene crost in an vnlucky houre, and by the rigour of some austere Planet, when Baça was besieged.

But vpon this reuolution of things, and these warlike commotions, it was thought fit to deferre it for a while, wayting for a more conuenient time, wherein their marriage might be solemnized with greater mirth and iollitie, and such triumphs and feastings performed, as the youthfulnesse and qualifi∣cation required of so sweet and louely a couple; and seemed necessarily to suit with the estimation and greatnesse of both their parents.

You haue heard already who Daraxa's Father was: Her Mother was her owne Kinswoman, daughter to a Sister of Boabdelin, King of that Citie, who had treated this Match betweene them. And Ozmin was cousin German to Mahomet, King of Granada, sur-named The Little. Now that all these

faire designes, had contrary successe to their desires, and that Fortune had bent her browe against them, Daraxa remaining now in the power of those their Catholike Maiesties; and being left behind in Seuill, as soone as Ozmin heard of it, the exclamations that he made; the sorrowes which hee vttered; the sighs which he vented, (as they were the true Heralds that proclaimed his hearts-griefe;) so did they moue all men to compassion, who could not choose but share, (and that in no small measure) with him, when they saw such la∣mentable effects of his great affliction.

But because the losse was so solely his, and the wound put so home to his very heart and soule, sorrow did so seaze vpon him, that in a short time it tooke hold vpon his manly (yet delicate) body: so that all the whole frame thereof was out of temper, and fell at last into a grieuous sicknesse, as dange∣rous and difficill to be cured, as the remedy was distant, and the cause vn∣knowne. The effects whereof dayly increased with mortall signes of death, because the cause increased; and the medicines that were ministred vnto him, being not rightly applyed, did him no good at all. And which is the worst in maladies, the Physicians did not truely apprehend the nature of his disease, being the most essentiall point, for the restoring of a man to his former state of health. So that his afflicted Parents, despairing of his recouery, had now rendred vp all hope of life; and the Physicians, they had giuen him ouer, be∣ing of opinion, that it was impossible hee should liue; their iudgement being strengthned and confirmed by all those accidents which did ioyntly concurre, and openly expresse themselues, in this his painfull torment.

But when this sicke Louer was treading the last step of life, that he had to goe, and euen entring into the doores of Death; a conceit came sodainly into his head, which representing it selfe to his imagination, wrought so effectual∣ly with him, that he seemed to draw some fruit from it, and to be somewhat better then he was: And though his sicknesse were yet still full of danger, yet compared with that miserable estate wherein hee stood before, the amend∣ment could not for the time be greater. And out of the longing desire that he had to put that in execution, which his conceit had formerly entertained, plotting in his imagination, how he might come to get a sight of his beloued Spouse, he gained breath, and grew somewhat stronger, stoutly resisting those things, that might hinder his intent.

Whereupon he licenced his sorrowes, and shooke hands with melanchol∣ly, taking his leaue of them both, bidding them fare-well for euer, and did now wholly intend his health; and by this meanes beganne by degrees to grow better and better, cleane contrary to the expectation of those, vvho had seene how low hee was brought, and in what a desperate estate hee was.

True is that old Adage, Desire subdueth feare, trampleth on the neck of inconueniences, and leuelleth all difficulties, be the way of them neuer so steepe, neuer so rocky. And a good and cheerefull heart in a sicke man, is the best Sirrop, and the most comfortable cordiall in the world; your Amber, your Corall, your Pearle, your Gold, and all the rabble of your other restora∣tiues are nothing vnto it. And therefore it is good for a man to make himselfe as merry as he can. And when thou seest a man once to wax merry when he is sicke, thou maist boldly say he mends.

Now then, by this time, our Gentleman is vp vpon his feet, and though yet weake and scarce able to walke vp and downe in his Chamber (his long sicknesse hauing yet made his legges vnable to beare his body) he forthwith furnished himselfe of a Moore, to be both his Guide, and Interpreter, who had for a long time serued the Kings of Granada as an Intelligencer And put∣ting vp good store of gold and iewels for that iourney, and taking with him a good horse, that was browne Bay, with a Petronell hanging at the arson of his

Saddle, and his Sword and Dagger girt to his side, vpon a certaine night by them appointed they depar•…•…ed out of the Citie, in the fashion and habit of Spaniards; and going by the way, knowing well how to coast the Country, as being well acquainted with those parts, they passed within view of the ene∣mies Campe, and hauing left that behinde them by by-pathes, and secret pas∣sages they came to Loja. Where, being neere vnto the Citie, it was their hard fortune to meet with a Captaine of the field, who went gathering vp of men which had fled from the Army, and forsaken their colours. Now as soone as he spied these two, he tooke hold of them. The Moore feigned hee had a Pasport, seeking for it one while in his bosome, another while in his pocket, and other parts about him. But because he could not finde it, and for that the Captaine perceiued he had beene out of the rode way, which made him shrewdly to suspect them, he tooke them along with him, to bring them backe againe to the Campe.

But Ozmin not dismayed herewith, nor suffering any alteration of counte∣nance, with great boldnes and free la•…•…age, making benefit of the Noble-mans name▪ in whose power his Spouse was, feigned himselfe to be his sonne, stiling himselfe by the name of Don Rodrigo de Padilla, and that he came with a message to their Catholicke Maiesties from his father touching Daraxa; and that his health failing him (which was witnessed by his wanne lookes) hee was making home with all the conuenient haste hee could. Other-whiles, hee affirmed he had lost both his Pasport, and his way; and that to returne againe thereinto, he had betaken himselfe to that path.

But this would not serue his turne, for hee still insisted to haue them goe backe, whilest they either did not, or would not then vnderstand, that he did not care a button whether they returned or no? His pretension onely was, that a Gentleman of that ranke and quality, as hee pretended himselfe to be, should haue blinded his eyes with some few Dubblons; for there is no Gene∣rals hand, that can equall the seale-Royall, which is of so much the more power with vs; by how much wee finde it firmed and instamped with that more noble metall. For your poore Shag-rags, and silly snakes, that steale from the Armie to returne home: for these (I say) they haue teeth, and sharpe ones too, and on such poor soules as these, doe they onely exercise their pow∣er, executing those orders which are made against such kind of fugitiues: But not on them, from whom they haue hope of profit, and may make good gaine; for this is that they seeke for.

Ozmin suspecting whither these brauings of his did tend; and finding on which foot he began to halt, followed him close, and began thus to speake vn∣to him: Misconster me not (Noble Captaine) nor thinke, that it shall grieue me a whit to returne once more backe againe, nor were it ten times one after another, should it trouble me to reiterate the steps that I haue tro∣den; nay, I would willingly repeate the same way againe and againe; if my health (as you see) were not wanting vnto mee; but since the necessitie of my returne is made euident and plaine vnto you: let me intreat you, Sir, not to put me to that trouble, seeing it is as much as my life is worth, considering the weakenesse wherein I now am. And with that, taking a rich ring from off his finger, he put it into his hand, which was as if he should haue throwne Vinegar vpon fire; for he streight grew coole vpon it, and kindely said vnto him; Sir, God be your good speed; for I well perceiue that you are as you seeme to bee a man of principall note, that does not serue the King for pay, nor would out of your noblenesse and point of honour forsake the field, but vpon so great an occasion as this. I shall waight vpon you to Loja, where I will giue order, that you passe forward with the more safety. And so he did, remaining both good friends; and when they had reposed themselues a while, they tooke their leaue.

Attended with these and other the like misfortunes, they arriued at length at Seuill; vvhere, by the information that he had gotten, he came to know the street and house vvhere his Daraxa dwelt: hee vvalked many a faire turne thereabout at different howers, and on diuers dayes, but it was neuer his good hap to see her: for in regard shee walked not abroad, nor vvent to Church, she spent her vvhole time in her needle, and in recreating her selfe with her friend Donna Elvira.

Now Ozmin perceiuing the difficulty to compasse his desire, and the sus∣picion vvhich he might giue, (as ordinarily all strangers do, in vvhat-soeuer place they come: for all mens eyes are vpon them, desiring to know vvho they are, vvhence they come, vvhat they seeke, and how they liue, especi∣ally if they frequent one street more then another, and cast a carefull eye ei∣ther vpon the vvindowes or the doores of some particular house.) Hence a∣riseth enuie; hence, a muttering and murmuring of the multitude; and hence, (though none be interessed in the businesse) an hatred vvithout a cause. And some vvhisperings vvere already begun; vvhereupon he vvas inforced, for the auoyding of scandall, to forbeare for some few dayes, vvhilest his seruant in the meane while performed that office, as being a person of lesse esteeme, and therefore the lesse obserued. But hee making no discouery, did onely comfort himselfe in walking that way in the night at extraordinary howers, and in imbracing the wals, kissing the doores and thresholds of that house.

In this forlorne kind of hope he liued some time, till at length that fell out vvhich sorted with his desire. For his seruant taking the care vpon him to round the house three or foure times aday, found out in the end, that Don Luys was a making vp of a certaine Wall that vvas falne downe. Then did he take Occasion by the fore-top, aduising his Master to put on a poore can∣uasse Frocke, or the like base garment, and to thrust himselfe in amongst the rest, as a Labourer in that Worke. He liked vvell of the inuention, put it in execution, leauing his seruant to looke to his horse, and the vvealth and Iew∣els that vvere in his Lodging, that he might helpe himselfe there-withall, if need were. And so he vvent foorth to this worke: vvhither, when he came, he demanded, if they had any vvorke for a stranger; they told him, they had. For his vvages, it is to be supposed, that he for his part vvas vvilling to bee hired at any rate, rather then to sit out. So he now sets himself roundly to his vvorke, striuing to out-worke them all: and albeit, through his many crosses and discontents, he had not yet recouered his perfect health, yet (as the phrase is) he drew strength out of vveaknesse: for it is the heart that commands the flesh. He vvas the first still that came to worke, and the last that left off: and vvhen all the rest were vvilling to take their ease and refresh themselues, hee vvas still seeking out something, vvherein he might busie himselfe: insomuch that being found fault vvithall for it by his fellow-Labourers, (for euen in misfortunes Enuy likewise hath a hand) he made them answer; That he knew not how to be idle. Don Luys, vvho noted his diligence, had a liking vnto him, and was resoluing vvith himselfe to take him into his seruice for the af∣faires of his house; and more particularly for the keeping of his Garden. Hereupon he demanded of him, vvhether he had any skill in that kind? Hee told him, A little; and that the desire that he had to do him seruice, vvould in short time inable him much more. He was well pleased both with his speech and person; for he had found him in euery thing, to be as sufficient, as he was carefull.

The Mason had made an end of repayring the wall, and Ozmin was now Gardiner to Don Luys: nor vntill that day, was it euer possible for him to see Daraxa. But such was his good fortune (Fortune being willing so to haue it) that the Sunne shone bright that morning, the skie was cleare, the heauens propitious, scattering the clouds of his former disgraces, and discouering a

new light; by helpe whereof, he saw the ioyfull hauen to his long-indured ship-wracks.

And the very first Euening that he exercised this his new Office, he saw his Spouse comming all alone, softly pacing her steps thorow a spacous Walke, beset all with Myrtles, muske-Roses, Iesmines, and other Flowers, gathering here and there one, vvhere-with she adorned her haire. Now by her attire, he vvould neuer haue knowne her, if the true Originall had not vvell agreed with that liuely counterfeit, vvhich he had imprinted in his heart: as like∣wise, that he did plainely perceiue, that so great beauty could not belong to any body but her selfe. He was much perplexed vvhen he saw her, and deba∣ted with himselfe, whether he were best to speake to her or no: but his bash∣fulnesse being as great, as vvas his preuention, being hindred by the shortnes of that time wherein she passed along, he hung downe his head, making holes in the earth with a Dibbe that he had in his hand, for the setting of a few choyce Slips.

Daraxa turn'd her head aside, and when in the casting of it, shee saw this new Gardiner; she stedfastly began to looke vpon him: and viewing vvell that side of his face (vvhich did most conueniently discouer it selfe vnto her) that place did represent it selfe to her imagination, vvhere she had so often beheld her Beloued, (so like did he seeme vnto her:) vvhereupon, such a sud∣den sadnesse seized vpon her, that fainting she fell to ground; and vvhen shee came to her selfe, taking hold on the Rayles of the Garden, which vvere vvrought of well-ordered Canes, (according to the fashion of that Country) she sent forth a most sorrowfull sigh, attended vvith infinite store of teares; and leaning her hand on her rosie cheeke, she called many things to remem∣brance; vvherein, if she should haue insisted vpon euery particular, and perse∣uered in the recordation of them; she might easily haue beene the authour of her owne death. But she did put them off as well as she could, with another new desire which she had, to intertaine her soule with his sight; deceiuing those conceits, with that little parcell of Ozmins face which represented it selfe vnto her.

Hereupon she rose, but accompanied vvith a generall trembling, (her vvhole body and heart, panting and shiuering vvith an aguish fit of Loue) and turning againe to contemplate anew the image of her adoration; vvhich the more attentiuely she beheld, the more liuely she transformed the same into her selfe. It seemed vnto her that she had beene in a dreame, but when shee perceiued that she was awake, and that her sight serued her, she vvas afrayd it was some ghost or Fairy-apparition. But afterwards, vvhen vpon better view she saw it vvas a man, a very man, and no Phantasma, she vvished that it might be he, vvhom she loued. Notwithstanding, she vvas mightily per∣plexed in mind, and cast many doubts vvith her selfe, not beeing able to de∣uise vvho this man should be. For his sicknesse had layd a palenesse on his cheekes, vvhich had lost their wonted colours; but in all other things besides, as his fauour, his feature, his proportion, and carriage did assure her of the truth: yet his office, his habit, and the very place vvherein hee stood, made her discard all such kind of thoughts, and to dis-deceiue her selfe: and again, it grieued her to be drawne out of this errour, persisting obstinately in her wish, not being able to abstaine to discouer her particular affection vnto him, for the resemblance vvhich he had of him, vvhom she so dearely loued: wher∣upon, out of those her doubtings and anxieties to know vvhat hee vvas, she sayd vnto him; Friend, vvhence are you? With that, Ozmin suddenly, and in a starting manner casts vp his head, looking vpon his beloued and sweetest pledge, but his tongue being knit close to the roofe of his mouth with the fullest knot of Loue; hauing not the power to speake a word; and not be∣ing able, no not for his life, (so great was his passion) to answer her with his

tongue, he replyed vvith his eyes, watering the earth with that abundance of teares, which fell guttering downe his cheekes, as if they had flowed from two cleare fountaines. And with this, these two deere and faithfull Louers came to haue true knowledge each of other.

Daraxa answered him in his owne language, distilling ropes of Pearles in round orientall drops downe her louely cheekes. And now were they ready to exchange imbracements, at least some sweet words of Loue; when lo, in the instant there entred into the Garden Don Rodrigo, sonne and heyre to Don Luys, who being inamoured of Daraxa, did alwayes wait vpon her steps, that he might thereby inioy the occasion to contemplate on her beauty. Now, that they might auoyd all suspicion, they no sooner spyde him, but Oz∣min returned roundly to his labour, and Daraxa walked leysurely along, as she was wont to do. Don Rodrigo perceiued (by her sad semblance, and infla∣med eyes, growne red with weeping) an alteration in her countenance, and presuming that somewhat had offended her, (for her lookes did shew she was not well pleas'd) he made towards Ozmin, and asked him what the matter might be of her discontent: who, albeit he vvas not fully as yet recouered of his fore-passed perturbation, yet inforced by that necessity vvhereunto he was driuen, told him; Sir, as you see her now, so was she when she came hi∣ther, she did not exchange so much as one word with me; and therefore told me no part of her mind, nor do I know whence this her passion should pro∣ceed. Especially, this being the first day, that I entred into this place: so that it was neither fitting for me to aske her the question, nor discretion in her to open her heart vnto me. With this answere he went his way, with purpose to learne it out of Daraxa her selfe. But the more he intertained himselfe in this displeasing subiect, the larger steps shee made, speedily wheeling about to her Lodging, shutting the doores after her as she went in.

Diuers Euenings and Mornings these two Louers luckily met, inioying vp∣on seueral occasions some flowers, and honest fruits from the tree of true loue, wherewith they gaue some ease vnto their griefes; Intertaining their true pleasures, with the desire and hope of that happy time, wherein without sha∣dowes and interruptions, they might freely inioy each other. But this con∣tent of theirs was as short, as vnsecure. For the extraordinary continuation of their companying together, and their close discourse, (and that in the A∣rabicke tongue) and her excusing herselfe (for his sake) from the conuersation of her friend Donna Elvira, had already giuen sufficient distaste to all those of the house, and Don Rodrigo himselfe was horne-mad, inraged so with Ie∣lousie, that he knew not what to do. Not that he had any the least imagina∣tion, that the Gardiner did treat with her any thing that was vnlawfull, or made any loue to her: but because he saw, that he was made worthy to be in∣tertained with so much frequencie in that sweet conuersation of hers, which she did not exercise so freely with any other in the world.

THE ARGVMENT.

Going on in the discourse of the aduentures of these two faithfull Louers, Ozmin and the faire Daraxa, are deliuered at large the troubles, ielousies, and the sor∣rowes that befell them.

MVrmuring, being the naturall daughter of Hatred and Enuy, is euer more busily labouring to staine the liues of others, and to draw a curtaine of darknesse ouer their bright-shining vertues. And a∣mongst people of base and vile condition, (where most commonly she keepes her Court of Audience) it is the onely sauce to moue their appetite, without

which their daintiest dishes haue no rellish, nor their best morsels any sauour in them. It is a bird of the flippantst vving, which as it moueth with most nimblenesse, so it doth the greatest mischiefe. There were not some wanting, that tossed words from hand to hand; some adding, and others inuenting matter vpon this their so great familiaritie, till the ball at last came to ground, and this vvhispering to Don Luys his eare, by one vvho thought to worke out himselfe a fortune therby, and to grow into fauour with his Lord, by this his supposed honourable piece of seruice.

This is that which the world doth practice, seeking to gaine great mens loue at other mens cost, by trickes and lies, when in the naked truth there is not cloth inough to shape a garment according to their mind. An office, wor∣thy those, to whom their owne worth is wanting, and haue nothing either in their actions, or their persons, that may deseruedly recommend them.

Don Luys attentiuely gaue eare to these well-composed words, and pain∣ted speeches, on vvhich such faire colours vvere layd. He vvas a vvise and dis∣creet Gentleman, and therefore did not suffer them to dwell, vvhere these men had placed them, but gaue them onely passage to his imagination, lea∣uing a roome empty for to receiue the reasons of the defendant, to whom he had left the doore open, and vvould by no meanes giue way to haue his eares stopped, albeit he vvere somewhat offended vvith the occasion of the scan∣dall. Many things did he cast in his mind, but still the farther hee went, the farther he vvas from the truth. But that which did most trouble him, was the suspicion which he had, that the Gardiner vvas a Moore, vvho was cunning∣ly come thither to steale away Daraxa: and perswading himselfe that it was so, his vnderstanding vvas presently blinded there-with. And that which is ill considered on, many times, nay, for the most part; the execution of that aduice is scarce gone out of doores, but that repentance presently enters the house. Vpon this surmise, he was resolued to take hold of him, and to clappe him fast. Ozmin, vvithout any resistance, or show of Sorrow, or any other al∣teration of countenance, submitted himselfe to be shut vp in the Hall, the fit∣test place the suddennesse of his surprise could afford for the present. And lea∣uing him thus vnder locke and key, he made towards Daraxa, who by the hurrie and tumult of the ministers and seruants of the house, knew already all that had past, there hauing beene some few dayes before a muttring of this matter about the house. She shewed her selfe much agrieued with Don Luys his manner of proceeding, forming complaints, how he had put in doubt the goodnesse and vnspotted innocencie of her life, setting the gate wide open to Suspicion; and that with this blurre vvhich he had giuen to her reputation, euery one might thinke as he listed, and as his fancie should stand affected, to censure her honour accordingly; for there was not any suspicion so bad, whereunto he had not by this his vnaduised act, opened a gap to it's entrance.

These, and other vvell-ordered reasons, deliuered with an affection of the mind, and freenesse of spirit, made Don Luys quickly repent himselfe of what he had done. He now wisht with all his heart, (after Daraxa had thus newly molded him) that he had neuer attempted any such thing, being angry with himselfe, and much incensed against those, vvho had put this into his head. But that he might not shew his lightnesse, in being thus mis-led, and ouer-fa∣cile to be wrought vpon by other mens perswasions, but that what hee had done, he had done it vpon good consideration, and as the weightinesse of the businesse required, dissembling his sorrow, he spake thus vnto her:

Deare Daraxa, I acknowledge the wrong I haue done you, and ingenious∣ly confesse that your complaint is not without iust cause, in that I proceeded against you in this vnciuill fashion, without hauing first examined the Wit∣nesses to the full, who haue deposed, (as it should seeme) thus wrongfully a∣gainst you. I am not ignorant of your owne woorth, as likewise that of your

parents, and Ancestors, from whom you are descended. I know, that the me∣rits of your owne proper person haue purchased of the King my Master, and his noble Queene, all that loue, which a true and onely heyre can gaine of his louing and tender Parents, hauing conferred vpon you many prodigall and publike fauours. To this I must giue you to vnderstand, that they placed you in my house; to the end that you might be serued therein with all care and diligence, according to your own will and pleasure: And that I am bound to giue account thereof, according to the trust that was reposed in me. For which reasons, and for that which my seruice deserueth at your hands, you ought to correspond (that you may not be vnlike your selfe) with that faire carriage which is due vnto my loyalty, and the consideration of these things that are now in question. I neither can nor will conceiue, that there can bee any thing in you that may seeme vnbefitting your breeding, or giue the least blemish to your honour. But the great familiaritie which you hold vvith Ambrosio (for that name had Ozmin put vpon himselfe, when he first entred to serue as a day-labourer) together with his talking vnto you in the Arabike tongue, hath somewhat troubled me, out of the generall desire that all heere haue to vnderstand what manner of man this fellow is, and what his first be∣ginning, neither you, nor my selfe hauing seene or knowne him heretofore. And this being satisfied, you shall rid others of their doubt, and my selfe of an impertinent and tedious trouble. I beseech you (as you are worthy) that you will resolue vs of this scruple, assuring your selfe for mine owne part, that as much as in me lyeth, I shall euer bee ready to serue you vpon all oc∣casions that shall offer themselues, wherein I may be seruiceable vnto you.

Daraxa stood curiously attentiue to that which Don Luys had deliuered, that she might be able to make answere vnto him, (albeit his good vnder∣standing had already preuented her with reasons) in case that any thing had beene discouered. But out of that short tearme of time which she had to be∣thinke her selfe (laying her former thoughts aside) she was driuen to make vse of other more materiall to that proposition which was made vnto her, where∣with easily (leauing him well satisfied) shee freed him of his care, ma∣king good vse of it, to bee more vvary hereafter, that shee might inioy her selfe, as shee was wont, vvith her beloued; and therewithall she thus said vnto him:

My Lord, and Father; (for so I may truely call you) Lord, for that I am in your power: and Father, for the tender care which you haue of me. I should ill correspond with that obligation whereunto I am bound, and those continu∣all fauours, which I receiue from their Maiesties by your meanes, and by your intercessions dayly augmented in my fauour, if I should not deposite in the Cabinet of your discretion, my greatest secrets: sheltring them vvith your shadow, and gouerning my selfe by your wisedome: and if with the same truth and plainenesse, I should not fulfill all your iust desires. And al∣beit to recall things to my remembrance (which I may not forbeare to re∣cite vnto you) cannot but be a great griefe vnto me, and euen a matter of no small martyrdome; yet with this I will repay your kindnesse, and make you become a debtor to my sorrowes, and giue you assurance thereby in how much I esteeme your loue.

Sir, you haue already vnderstoood who I am, for it is notorious to you, and all the world; and how my misfortune or good hap (for I can not, till the fruit wax ripe, by seeing the end of so many troubles, condemne the one, or commend the other:) brought me to this house of yours, euen at that very time, when a marriage was in Treaty for me, with a Gentleman of the best both worth and ranke in Granada, being a neere Kinsman of those Kings, and anciently descended from them.

This my Husband (if I may so stile him) was bred vp, being then about some

sixe or seuen yeeres of age, with another child a Captiue Christian, much a∣bout the same yeeres, whom his parents bought for his seruice and enter∣tainment. They euer went together, plaid together, eate together, and v∣sually slept together, out of the great loue that was betweene them. See whe∣ther these were not pledges of friendship which I haue repeated vnto you. And so well did my Husband loue him, that had hee beene his equall, or his neerest Kinsman, he could not haue lou'd him better. Hee trusted him with his person; for he was very valiant; he was the Feoffie of all his pleasures, the Companion of his entertainments, the Treasury of his Secrets, and in sub∣stance his second selfe. In conclusion, they were in all things both of them so like, that nothing did difference them, but their Religion, whereof (out of the greatnesse of both their discretions) they neuer argued, that they might not dis-brother themselues. For no brothers in the world could loue better then they did. And well did this Captiue deserue his loue (I spake a∣misse, the word Brother better befits him, and so I should haue call'd him) for his faithfull carriage, his composed behauiour, and his Gentleman-like pro∣ceeding; in somuch, that if we had not knowne him to haue beene borne of meane parents that got their liuing by their handy-labour, in a poore Cot∣tage, who were captiuated and made slaues at the same time, we should ve∣rily haue beleeu'd, that he had descended from some Noble bloud, and gene∣rous off-spring.

This honest man (I should say honourable; for his vertue deserues that stile) was the Messenger of our entertainments, the Post that ranne betweene vs▪ for being so faithfull as he was, hee was the onely man that was wholly im∣ployed in that businesse. He brought me Letters and presents, returning back by him such due requitals, as in like cases vsually passe betwixt those that truely loue.

Now, when Baça was deliuered vp, and he found there, hee was set at li∣berty, together with the rest of the Captiues that were at that time within the Citie. But I am not able to say, whether his ioy to recouer his freedome, or his sorrow to forsake vs, were the greater. This himselfe can best tell you, as also whatsoeuer else you shall desire to know besides, if it please you to aske him, which is no hard matter for you to doe: for this man I speake of, is that very Ambrosio, which is now in your seruice, it being Gods will that he should come hither, for to be a comfort vnto me in these my afflictions. I lost him before euer I thought of it; and when I least looked for him, I found him againe. With him I ranne ouer the whole course of my misfortunes, since the first time that I was graduated and tooke degree in them; vvith him I did cherish the hopes of my aduerse fortune, entertaining a painefull life, for to deceiue the wearisomnesse of alingring and tedious time. If this comfort (for that it is in my fauour) shall offend you, follow your owne will, for mine shall euer be subordinate to yours, which you may dispose of at your pleasure.

Don Luys was strooken with astonishment and tendernesse, as well for the strangenesse, as the pittifulnesse of her Story. Besides, he was much moo∣ued with her manner of proceeding; for she went on in her Discourse with∣out any pausing, perturbation, or other accident, whereby hee might con∣iecture, that it was a made tale, or inuention of her owne vpon the present. Which carriage she did credit the better, by letting fall from her eyes some effectuall teares, which were able to soften hard Marble, and to rent in sunder the rocky Diamond.

With this speech of hers, Ambrosio was loosed out of prison, without being questioned of any thing, that he might not wrong the report vvhich Daraxa had giuen of him: Onely laying his arme about his neck, looking cheerefully vpon him, he told him. Now I know Ambrosio) that thou hast some noble

bloud about thee; and though this should be wanting vnto thee, thou art able to giue it thy selfe by thine owne vertue and noblenesse. For by that which I haue lately heard of thee, I am obliged henceforth to vse thee with that fairenesse as thy worth deserueth. Ozmin told him; In this, Sir, you shall doe like your selfe; and the good which I shall receiue from you, I shall euer make it my glory, that it came from the largenesse of your hand, and from so noble a House as this is. This past, he was permitted to return againe vnto the garden, with the same familiaritie as before, if not with much more licence and freenesse of liberty. So that now they talked together as often as they would themselues, without any scandall at all.

In this interim, the King and Queene had still a care to know how it was with Daraxa, as well in the state of her health, as otherwise; whereof particular aduice was giuen them from time to time, who were very glad to heare of her well-doing; and did continually in their Letters recommend her very dearely to the care of Don Luys, with expresse charge to vse her with all kindnesse.

This fauour of theirs wrought so much, that as well out of the desire to stand in grace with their Maiesties, as out of Daraxa her owne deserts; not onely Don Rodrigo, but most of the principall Cauallero's of that Citie, wish∣ed in their hearts she were a Christian, that they might make loue vnto her, pretending to take her to Wife. But because Don Rodrigo had her (as hath been said) in his custody, he was in the common opinion of the World, a∣mongst all the other riualls thought to be most fauoured by her. The case was very cleere, and this suspition not without great likelihood. For of his qua∣litie, condition, behauiour, and faire proceeding, she had had very good try∣all; and ostentations of this nature, and apparences of such commendable parts as these, are not wont to be of the slightest moment, nor the lowest round in the Ladder, that climbes vnto honour. For when a man shall haue made publike demonstrations of his vertues, and his noble carriage, it is to be presumed he will be no lesse beloued, then he is knowne; and so get aduan∣tage of those, who (when it shall come to matter of opposition) shall be vn∣der-valued by opinion. But as if these Louers had exchanged their soules, and none of them possessed that which was his owne, they were as firme in lo∣uing, as farre from offending.

Daraxa neuer gaue way by any dis-composture, or vnioynted behauiour, or any other occasion whatsoeuer, whereby any one might presume more then other vpon her fauour; howbeit, all of them adored her, left no meanes vn∣sought to procure her loue, nor no nets vnspred, seeking by traines to draw her within their reach, but none of them had any ground, whereupon to build their hopes.

Don Rodrigo perceiuing how little his seruices did auaile him, how his la∣bour was in vaine, and the small remedy that hee found, since after so ma∣ny dayes spent in her continuall conuersation, he remained in the same state as he did the very first day, neither better nor worse, for ought hee knew, it came into his consideration to make vse of Ozmin, thinking by his intercession to get into her fauour; and taking this to be the best and su∣rest way to worke his ends, being one morning in the garden, hee brake thus with him:

Friend Ambrosio, Thou canst not but know the obligations which thou hast to thy Religion, to thy King, to thy Country, to that bread which thou eatest of my Fathers, and to that desire, which we haue of thy good. I con∣ceiue, that as a Christian of that quality, which thy workes doe publish, thou wilt correspond with that thou professest thy selfe to be.

I come to thee, moued thereunto by a great necessitie (which now offers it selfe vnto me) whereupon doth depend all the increase of mine honour, and

the safety of my life, which wholly lyes in thy hands. If discoursing then with Daraxa, amongst other reasons, thou shalt worke her by force of Argument, that she forsake this false Sect, wherewith she is now infected, & make her to become a Christian, thou canst not but see what good will come thereof: first, Saluation to her owne soule; next, good seruice vnto God; thirdly, great con∣tent to their Catholike Maiesties; fourthly, honour to thy selfe in thy Coun∣trey; and lastly, to my selfe perfect happinesse. For, desiring her to Wife, I meane to be married vnto her, and the benefit shall not be small vvhich thou shalt make by this voyage; for it shall be as profitable, as it shall be honoura∣ble vnto thee; and therefore straine all the wits thou hast to bring this good purpose to passe. For besides that thou shalt bee rewarded by God, for the soule which thou shalt gaine, I for my part will, with many requitals, and those reall, recompence the life which thou shalt giue mee by thy good dili∣gence in this businesse, and if (exercising thy power with her,) it shall be my good hap to winne her by thy intercession. Doe not refuse to doe mee this fauour, since thou canst doe so much with her: And because there are so many tyes vpon thee, to induce thee hereunto, it is not fit that I should presse thee a∣ny further, or be too importunate with thee. To whom, when hee had ended his exhortation, Ozmin made him this answere:

My very good Lord; The same reason, wherewith you seeke to binde me, ought likewise to oblige you to beleeue, how much I desire that Daraxa should follow my Religion, which very earnestly, diuers, nay infinit times I haue perswaded her vnto. My desire is no other, then your own; and there∣fore I will vse all diligence in this particular cause, as in a thing wherein I am so much interessed. But louing her betrothed friend, and my Master so dearely as she does, to treat with her to turne Christian, were but to double passion in her, without any other fruit at all: For she hath some hopes yet aliue in her, that Fortune may turne the wheele againe, flattering her selfe with some acci∣dent or other, whereby in time she may come to inioy her desire. This is all that I can yet learne from her, shee is still harping vpon this string, and (for ought that I can perceiue) very constant in this conceit of hers. But that I may comply with that, which you command me, I shall (though I were sure my labour should be fruitlesse) returne once more to treat with her in this kinde; and when I haue done, I will acquaint you with her answere. The Moore did not lye in any one word that he said, had he been rightly vnder∣stood; but (not thinking on a thing so remote) Don Rodrigo gaue credit, not to that which he truely, but to that he formally deliuered. And so (though de∣ceiued) he had some confidence with him, and was not cleane out of hope. For Quien de veras ama, Se-enganna, con desengannos: Hee that truely loues, is de∣ceiu'd with that, which ought to dis-deceiue him.

Ozmin (when Rodrigo was gone) remained so sad to see the open instance which was made to his owne hurt, that he was ready through iealousie to runne out of his wits. Which did so afflict him, that from that day forward you could neuer get a cheerefull looke from him, and making things impos∣sible, seeme possible vnto him, hee did wrastle and struggle with himselfe; imagining, that this new Competitor (being powerfull in his owne House and Country) might vse some tricks and deuices, wherewith to hinder his intent, being so sollicitous as he was, and so earnest in the businesse. He fea∣red againe on the other side, lest she might be wrought to alter her former affection; for many batteries make a breach in the strongest walles; and with secret mynes they are blowne vp, and laid leuell with the ground.

Out of this iealousie of his, hee discoursed in his thoughts of Tragicall ends, and disastrous accidents, which presented themselues vnto his phanta∣sie, which he did not so much beleeue, as he did mightily feare, because hee was a perfect Louer.

Daraxa seeing how her dearest beloued had for many dayes together con∣tinued in this melancholy mood, was very desirous to know the cause of this his sadnesse: but she could not wring it from him, nor did he speake a word of that vnto her, vvhich had past betwixt him and Don Rodrigo. Shee (poore Gentlewoman) knew not what to do, nor vvhich way to vvorke him to bee merry; howbeit with sweet words, vttered from a daintier tongue, pleasant smiles, and a constant heart, much augmented by those faire eyes, whose warme teares did be-dew her tender cheeks with those cristall waters which did slow from them, she softly breathed foorth (hauing first sent foorth many a sigh, as heralds of her sorrowfull mind: these few words vnto him.)

Lord of my life and liberty; my betroathed, vvhom I honour and obay, what thing can there be of that force, (I being aliue, and in your presence) that should thus to my hurt torment and grieue you? May my life peraduen∣ture be the price of your ioy? or how vvill you be pleased to dispose of it, whereby my soule may be freed from this hell of sorrow, vvherein for your sake I am tormented? Let the chearefull heauen of your countenance, scatter those clouds vvherewith my heart is ouer-cast, if I am able to doe any thing with you; if the loue which I beare you deserueth ought; if the griefe where∣in I am may moue you to pity; if you will not that my life receiue its buriall in your secrecie, I beseech you to tell me the cause of your sadnesse. Here she stopt; for her teares had choak't her vtterance, sorrow working on them both, one and the same effect; for he could not answer her otherwise, then with the scalding teares of loue, each striuing with their owne to dry vp the others, seeming both to bee one and the selfe-same thing, as long as their tongues were thus tyed, and the current of their speach stopped.

Ozmin, with the oppression of his sighes, (for he closely smoothered them) fearing (if he should vent them) to be ouer-heard, did so long resist them, by returning them backe againe vnto his soule; from whence they would haue broken out their way, that he fell downe into a swoune; and so deepe an one, as that he lay for dead. Daraxa knew not what to do, nor how to fetch him againe, nor which way to comfort him, nor could she conceiue what might be the cause of this so great and sudden an alteration, hauing formerly beene accustomed to shew himselfe merry and cheerefull. Shee was very busie in wiping his face, in drying his eyes, putting her faire hands vpon them; after she had dip't a rich hand-kerchiefe, that she had about her in the water, im∣broydered with gold and siluer, inter-wouen with diuers other glorious co∣lours, and scattered here and there with pearle, and other deuices of wonder∣full both worth and workmanship. So much was she transformed into this paine of his; and her senses so wholly taken vp in seeking to recouer him, that had this fit continued but a little longer, Don Rodrigo might haue found them little lesse then arme in arme; for Daraxa had his head leaning on her knee, and one side of his body folded in her Gowne, when he first began to come to himselfe. Now when his Senses were come againe into their proper places, and all was well, thinking to haue taken his leaue of her, Don Rodrigo on the nicke, comes into the garden. Daraxa (though much troubled) came off as handsomely as she could, leauing through haste her curious hand-kerchiefe on the ground, which was quickly taken vp by Ozmin, who presently had it in his eye.

Now when she saw that Don Rodrigo drew nigh, she went her way, and left them two alone together: Rodrigo (when he saw the coast was cleare) ask't him what he had done in the busines? He told him, (as he had at other times) that he found her so firme in her loue to her betrothed friend, that she will not onely not be wonne, (as you pretend) to be a Christian: but if shee were so, yet for his sake, she would willingly turne Moore; so extreame is her owne folly, the loue of her Religion, and of her husband. I treated your businesse

with her; and to you, because you attempt it, and to me, because I propose it, she beareth vs both that hatred, that she is resolued, if euer I speake word thereof againe, neuer any more to see me; and as for you, you see, she no soo∣ner saw you, but she vvent her way. So that I would not haue you vveary out your selfe in this suit, nor spend any more time in it; for I see it vvill be but in vaine, and a hopelesse piece of vvorke. Don Rodrigo was strucken deeply into his dumpes vvith this so resolute an answer, deliuered vvith that sharp∣nesse, vvhich made it the more sowre and vnfit for rellish. From that time forward he began to suspect that Ozmin vvas rather in his preiudice, then profit, and did rather dis-aduantage, then aduance his pretension. Howsoe∣uer he thought at least with himselfe, that though Daraxa might haply haue giuen so distastfull a reply, yet it did ill become him to report it vnto him, in that rough fashion as he did, making himselfe, as it were, master and ruler of the roste: but such impossible things in their incounter are Loue and discre∣tion; for euermore a man is so much the more confounded and troubled in himselfe, by how much the more hee loueth and affecteth: hereupon did represent it selfe vnto him that strict league of amity and friendship, which Daraxa reported to haue beene betwixt him and his old Master, he imagined, that loue was still aliue in him, and could not be perswaded, that the ashes of that fire were yet growne cold. With this conceit (which was re-infor∣ced by his passion) he was fully bent to put him out of the house, informing his father how vnfitting it was; nay how dangerous to permit (where Da∣raxa was) such a one, as might intertaine her in the Discourse of her former Loue, still putting her in mind thereof, especially it being their Maiesties in∣tent and purpose to haue her turne Christian: which would be hard to do, as long as Ambrosio was there. Let vs, Sir, (sayd he) make some triall by sun∣dring them some few dayes one from another, and then we shall see what ef∣fect it will bring foorth.

Don Luys did no whit mislike his sonnes councell, and presently picking a quarrell, where no cause was, (for of great men we must not aske the reason of things; and a Captaine with his souldiers will bee bold now and then to make fifteene of two •…•…ights) he dismissed him of his seruice, commanding him, that he should not so much as once dare to passe by the doore. And hee tooke him so on the sudden, that he could not take his leaue of Daraxa. And so obaying his Master, faining lesse sorrow, then what he felt, he remoued his body from thence, for that pledge he could carry whither he listed) but for his soule, that abode still with her, in whose power it had formerly so long re∣mained.

THE ARGVMENT.

Continuing the Story of the loue of Ozmin and Daraxa, are recounted the troubles and griefes that befell them both: as also those publike Feasts, that were made by diuers Knights and Gentlemen, for to glad and cheare vp the dis-consolate Daraxa: and of the valour which Ozmin in disguise and vnknowe, did performe in them.

DAraxa seeing so sudden a change, began to suspect that his former sorrow had its birth from that new successe; and now by the sequele assured her selfe it was so: whereupon adding one euill to another, sorrow to sorrow, and griefe to griefe, wanting the sight of her espoused Lord; albeit the poore Lady did dissemble it all that shee could, yet this was that, which did most trouble her. Giue them leaue to weepe, howle, sigh, cry, and talke, that find themselues afflicted: for albeit they doe not there-with take

away the burthen of that paine which they indure, yet it doth lessen sorrow, and makes the load somewhat lighter. She was so depriued of all content, so heauily sad, and so bodily afflicted, that you might read her griefes not onely in her face and countenance, but throughout all the course of her carriage. Our inamoured Moore would not change his estate and condition of life; for as he went clad before, the same stile he still continued, and in the habit of a day-Labourer, he followed his painefull fortune: therein hee had had good successe, and he hoped the like with aduantage. He daily followed his worke hard, where there was ought to be got, going in this sort from place to place to proue his fortune, trying if by this meanes he could come to heare or hear∣ken out any thing that might import him, or serue his turne concerning Da∣raxa: for no other end or interest in the world had he but this, to labour so hard as he did; for he had liberally to spend with a large hand for many dayes together, out of the meanes that he had brought from home in money and in Iewels. But as well for that vvhich hath beene sayd, as also because hee vvas well knowne in that habit, that he might haue the freer licence wheresoeuer he came, and himselfe remaine safe in his person vnder this disguise, lest his designes might otherwise be ouerthrowne, he continued his wonted weare.

Those young Canallero's that serued Daraxa, knowing the fauour that she bare to Ozmin, and that he was now no longer seruant in Don Luys his house, euery one did couet him for himselfe and his owne ends, and happy vvas he, that could make the first purchase; so generall was their desire to haue him theirs.

But Don Alonso de Cuniga got the start of all the rest, being a Gentleman of that City, one that was borne to a great estate, young, gallant, and rich, and one that was confident, that others want, and his wealth, by the helpe of Ambrosio, should carry the businesse. He commanded him to be sent for, in∣tertained him in his seruice, did him many knowne good turnes, made him more aduantageous proffers, gaue him many kind and louing words, and in conclusion, a kind of friendship was begun betweene them, (if any such thing may be found betweene master and man:) notwithstanding, inasmuch as man is compatible, it is commonly called by the •…•…ame of Priuancie or In∣wardnesse; vvhereinto men grow by some deseruing seruice, vvith whom hauing runne ouer some passages, he came in the end to discouer his desire vn∣to him, promising him great rewards: all which was •…•…ut an opening vnto him of his old wounds, and a ripping vp of his sores, to make them greater then before: if he were ielous before of one, now he had two Corriuals, and vvithin a short time after, he knew of many which his Master had discouered vnto him, and which way they marched, and the meanes whereby they thought to preuaile: but for his owne part he neither sought, nor desired any furtherance of others, saue onely his good intelligence, beleeuing (as he verily perswaded himselfe) that solely his intercession should bee sufficient to ef∣fect it.

I am not able to imagine, much lesse to expresse the griefe vvhich hee con∣ceiued, seeing himselfe now the second time to be made a Bawd to his owne wife: and how fitting notwithstanding it was for him to past▪ thorow all these pikes with a discreet kind of dissimulation.

He intertained him with good words, for feare lest it might happen vnto him, as it did with Don Rodrigo; and if he should carry himselfe violently and inconsideratly with the rest with whom he had to deale with, he should finde his hands too full, and giue himselfe a great deale of trouble, and in the end lose all, and not come to the knowledge of any thing concerning his bestbelo∣ued. And if we will peaceably inioy the end of our desires, we must put on Patience and sufferance in the atchieuement of them.

He bore him fayrely in hand, albeit his heart was all on fire, his various

thoughts gaue him many a shrewd battell, and assaulted him on euery side, galling him in such cruell manner, that like a Bull inraged, he knew not how to helpe himselfe, nor whither to fly for succour, nor behind vvhom to runne, nor could he find any comfort for to ease those intolerable torments which he indured. The Hare was single, the Grayhounds many, and all light-footed, they had certaine Falcons too in their fauour, that for all their high place, would not refuse to stoope to their Lure, for hope of reward: to these I may adde a number of she-friends and acquaintance, comming to visit and ban∣quet with Daraxa, who too too vsually set fire to the honour of many a faire Lady, and blow the coales of Lust in many Noble houses of good re∣port and honest fame: many Ladies and Gentlewomen enter (for such they are in appearance) and all forsooth vnder the faire name of Uisites; some, out of the difficulty they find at home in their owne houses to effect their purpose; others, to worke deceite, and to bring innocent Dames, by one deuice or other into the same net, wherein themselues haue beene caught. Of these kind of creatures there are great store, the world is full of them, and the pra∣ctice too too common. Nay, out of the principallest and grauest sort of La∣dies, the Diuel hath not beene carelesse in working them to become pot-lids, and couers to these boyling vessels of concupiscence. These are those siluer Plates, that couer many a sweet morsell, after which your Gallants so eagerly long to licke their lippes, and are so sharpe set. All these things did hee feare, and many more, but most of all Don Rodrigo, to whom both himselfe, and the rest of the Riuals bare great hatred for his false arrogancie, vvhereof hee cunningly made vse, to haue them thereby to desist from their purpose: and the more to daunt and amate them, hee made them all beleeue, or at least would faine haue them so to thinke, that he was the onely man that was like to carry Daraxa, as hauing the best meanes and opportunity, (besides his owne desires) to grow into her Loue and fauour. Hereupon they spake cour∣teously vnto him, but in their hearts they wish't him hang'd; they powred hony to him out of their mouthes, leauing rancour and poyson in their brests; they saluted him kindly, but curst his very bowels and intrailes, desiring to see them burst in a thousand pieces; they smiled vpon him, but as dogges doe grin at Waspes, they long'd to haue a snap at him: this is the common fashi∣on now in Court, and more particularly amongst those of the greatest ranke and quality.

Now let vs returne againe to Daraxa, and speake of the torments which she suffered; of the care which she tooke to know what was become of her dearest Loue, whither he was gone, what he did, how it was with him in his health, how he spent his time, and whether he had got him some other new Mistresse; and this did trouble her most: for albeit mothers haue likewise some sorrow for the absence of their children, yet notwithstanding the case is not alike: for they onely feare the life of their child, but a wife the losse of her husbands loue, lest some other woman with fawning blandishments, and smooth flatteries should draw his affection from her. What dayes so sad as those, what nights so tedious, as for a woman to weaue and vn-weaue her thoughts, like Penelope's Web, with the chaste desire of her beloued Ulysses?

I shall vtter much by being silent in a passage of this nature, for to paint foorth such a sorrow as this, small was that cunning, which a famous Pain∣ter vsed vpon the death of a young damosell, who after hee had painted her dead, stretcht out to the life lying in her Coffin, hee placed round about the Coarse, her parents, her brethren, her kinsfolkes, her friends, her acquain∣tance, and her houshold seruants in their proper places; and with that griefe which was fitting for euery one of them in their seuerall degrees: but when he came to her father and mother, he left off to finish their faces, giuing euery one licence and free libertie to pourtrayt foorth such a sorrow, according as

he himselfe should there with be affected; for neither words nor pensill were any way able to manifest a parents loue, or the sorrow that they conceiued, saue onely some actions, which wee haue read of Heathen people. The same course must I take. The pensill of my rude tongue, shall bee but a grosse vn∣hewen sticke, fit onely to forme blots and blurres; and therefore it shall bee wisedome to leaue it to the discretion of the hearer: and to him that shall vn∣derstand History, to referre it to his consideration in what manner such pas∣sions as these are to be apprehended. So that euery man may measure it by his owne imagination, iudging others hearts by their owne.

Daraxa was so surcharg'd with sorrow, that her outward remonstrances manifested her inward afflictions. Don Luys seeing her so wholly taken vp with melancholly, as also Don Rodrigo his sonne, both of them for to cheere her vp, ordained certaine feasts; as that of the running of Buls, and their juego de cannas: And because the City was so well fitted for these pastimes, it shortly after tooke effect. Now those that were Actors in these sports, had euery one of them his seuerall deuice, wrought in different sorts of silkes and colours, expressing therein their diuers passions; one, his Despaire; another, his Hope; this, his Captiuity; that, his Iealousie; some their Ioy, some their Sorrow, and some their being in Loue, and the like. All which, and more too, did meet in poore Daraxa.

As soone as Ozmin knew that this appointed feast was to bee performed, and that his Master was one of the number he thought with himselfe, that it were not time ill spent to see his Mistris, by giuing some proofe of his valour, and setting himselfe forth that day amongst the rest. Which being come, iust as the Buls began to rune, he mounted vpon his horse, both he and it being in euery point very well fitted. His face was scarfed with watchet Taffata, that he might auoid the common eye, and his Horse had his eyes vayled with a bend of blacke. He feigned himselfe to be a stranger; his seruant went before him, bearing in his hand a goodly strong Launce, he rounded the whole place, beholding many things of admiration which were therein: but aboue all, the beauty of Daraxa did out-shine the rest, as the day doth the night; and in her presence all the other Dames were but darknesse. He placed himselfe right ouer against her window; whither he was no sooner come, but hee saw the place much altered, euery man flying as fast as he could from a fierce Bull, which at that instant they had let out of the Paddock; it was a Bull of Tarifa well growne, cunning in the carriage of his head, and as stout as a Lyon, and as full of rage. Who was no sooner let forth, but giuing two or three nimble bounds, put himselfe into the midst of the place, making himselfe Master of all that Round, to the great affright and terrour of all that were there. Hee turn'd his frizzled front from side to side, whilest diuers darts were throwne at him, which he did easily shake off, and vsed such art, that hee would not suffer them to gall him in the flanke, or other his inferiour parts: and this hee did auoid, by vsing certaine light friskals, which he performed so dexterously as they could not touch him. Now, there was not a man in all the place that durst to incounter him a horse-backe, and those that were a-foot, durst not expect his comming, nor looke him in the face, though he were neuer so farre from them. So that for very feare they left him all alone, and not one man saue onely Ozmin, and his seruant, was to be seene any thing neere him in all that circuit of ground.

The Bull, as if he had rode on the wings of the winde, ranne with all the speed he could, directly towards this Gentleman; so that hee was forced to betake himselfe suddenly to his Launce, which he had not taken into his hand, when the Bull was first let loose, and lifting vp his right arme, bearing his Launce for his best aduantage, whereat was fastened Daraxa's Handkerchiefe which she left behind her in the Garden (as you haue heard heretofore) with

a gracefull kinde of actiuenesse, and a gallant ayme in the carriage of his arme, he charged home vpon him; and making way by his necke, hee ranne his Launce quite through his body, which made no stay till the point thereof had nayled the hoofe of one of his farther feete to the ground, leauing him there for dead, without any motion in the world; there onely remaining in his hand the short broken truncheon of his Launce, which hee casting away from him in a carelesse fashion, he victoriously, but modestly quitted the place.

Daraxa was much reioyced in the sight of him: for when he first made his entrance, she knew him by his man, who had sometimes also been her seruant; as likewise by his handkercher, which after the Bull was slaine, he wore about his arme. All that were there present, with a generall murmure, remained full of admiration, giuing him due commendation, in clearing the happinesse of the stroke, and the strength of this vnknowne Knight. Nor was any thing else in the mouthes of the multitude, then the discoursing of the braue per∣formance of this businesse, deliuering the manner thereof one to another; and though they had all seene how it was, yet euery one spake thereof a-fresh, and it seemed to them as a dreame; some in wonder clapping their hands; others highly extolling his valour; one speakes with his fingers; another stands amazed; a third blesses himselfe; a fourth lifts vp his arme; a fifth acts it with his hand, all of them hauing their mouthes and their eyes full of ioy; a sixt bowes downe his body, and suddenly leapes vp againe in the ayre; some bend the browe, and some being ready to burst with content, make gracefull Matachines, with many other pretty Antike-gestures.

All which to Daraxa seemed so many degrees of glory▪ Ozmin with-drew himselfe out of the Citie into certaine back-Gardens, out of which he for∣merly came; and (leauing his Horse, and changing his cloathes, vvith his Sword vnder his arme, returning in the habit of Ambrosio) he came to the place; taking his Stand where he might see what hee most desired, and was seene againe by her, who lou'd him more then her owne life. They tooke great pleasure in beholding each other; howbeit Daraxa was very fearefull, lest some mis-fortune might befall him, standing there a-foot amongst the multitude: she made signes vnto him, that he should get vp vpon a Scaffold: but the made show that he did not vnderstand her meaning, standing there still, till the Buls began to runne.

By this time the euening was farre spent, and with the approaching of the night, those that were to sport at the juego de Cannas, made their entrance in manner following:

First of all, the Trumpets, Fifes, and Drums, accompanied with diuers o∣ther sorts of Musicke, presented themselues, being cladde in rich Liueries of sundry colours; after whom followed the Azemilas, or Sumpter Mules, laden with bundles of Canes.

The Companies that were to maintaine this sport, were likewise eight, answering to the number of their bundles of Canes. Euery one had his Sump∣ter Cloth of Veluet cast ouer the Canes, richly imbroydered with the Armes of their Master in Silke and Gold, the Garrotes belonging thereunto, being all of siluer.

After these, entred two hundred and forty Gennets, richly furnished for 48. Knights, which were fiue a piece for euery man, besides that which came in with the Canes, which made vp fixe in the whole. But they that entred first on the right hand, came in two Files, opposing themselues against the aduerse part. The first two horses (which as if they had beene yoaked toge∣ther, ranne on in an euen and equall course) were assisted by fiue others of a side, bearing their Owners Targets at the Arson of their Saddles, offering their fairest show to the eyes of the Spectators; wherein were depainted their Em∣blemes

and their Motto's, set forth with faire Scarfes, rich Ribbonings, Tas∣sels and Buttons of the best both silke and gold, with sundry other borderings and costly imbroyderies, euery man suting himselfe according to his own hu∣mour, and particular fancy. Most of the Horses had their Pettrels stucke full with Bels, all their other furniture and trappings being very rich and curious, they had sumptuous head-stals of gold and siluer, set with precious Stones, as thicke as they could stand each by other: it shall suffice, for the better ampli∣fying of what I haue spoken, that they were in Seuill, where there is no small store of them, nor make little esteeme of such things; and that these Knights and Gentlemen were Louers, Competitors, rich, and young; and the Lady for whom they stroue, present amongst them. These entred in at one gate of the Place, and when they had giuen it a round, they issued out at another neere vnto that by which they entred. So that the one did not hinder the o∣ther either in their comming in, or their going forth: and thus they past in very good equipage as could be desired.

The Horses hauing quit the place, these Gallants entred in againe, the whole eight squadrons running two and two together, well attired themselues, with their Liueries attending vpon them (as before hath been deliuered) and with their Launces in their hands, which they strongly brandishing, made the stock and point thereof seeme to meet together, whose nimble shaking caused eue∣ry single Launce to appeare to be foure. Presently vpon this, incouraging their proud Gennet with their lowd shoutes and cryes, and wounding their Sattin sides with their sharpe Spurres, you would haue thought them rather to fly, then runne; their Masters, and they, seeming but one ioynt-body, so closely did they keepe themselues in their seates. Nor is this any Hyperbole, or ouer-indearing what was done, since that in all parts almost of Andaluzia; as Seuill, Cordóua and Xerez de la frontera, they bring forth their children (as it is com∣monly said) from the Cradle, to the Saddle, as in other parts they accustome them to carry Canes. And it is a wonder in such tender yeeres, to see such hard steeles, and such dexterity and agility of body. For to doe these things, is an ordinary exercise amongst them. They gaue a turne about the Place, running to and fro from all the foure parts thereof: and then leauing the place for a while (to recouer fresh breath) and to giue some pawsing to the Spectators) they entred againe, as before, (changing still their Horses) with their Targets on their armes, and their Canes in their hands.

Then they diuided themselues by sixe and sixe (as the manner there is) and in a handsome well-ordered fashion began their sport. Wherein hauing con∣tinued for the space of a quarter of an houre, or thereabouts, some other Gentlemen thrust in amongst them to part the quarrell, beginning with their fresh Horses a well-prepared skirmish, both the one and the other from all parts of the Place, ranging and marshalling themselues in such good array, ob∣seruing such due both time and measure, that it seemed a very fine contriued daunce: the beholding whereof, as it held the people in suspence by posses∣sing all their faculties; so did it giue them singular content. But this sport was interrupted, and wholly disordered by the sudden approach of a furious Bull, which they had let loose from the other side of the place. Those that vvere a horsebacke, changing their Canes into Iauelins, (which they had ready at hand) began to cast themselues into a ring, seeking to shut him in on euery side: but the Bull stood stocke still in the midst of them, not knowing whom he should first set vpon: he cast his eyes vpon them all, tearing vp the earth with his forked feet; and whilest euery man stood in this manner expecting his chance; one bold Rogue amongst the rest comes athwart him, prouo∣king him to fury with his tottered Cloake, and his shrill shoutes, but little needed any such instigations: for the Bull presently thereupon, like one mad with rage, forsaking the horsemen, made after him with all the eagernesse he

could, who tooke himselfe to his heeles as fast as they were able to carry him; he flyes from the Bull, the Bull after him, and neuer giues him ouer, forcing him to take Sanctuary vnder Daraxa's window, iust there where Ozmin then stood; who deeming it a place of priuiledge for this fearefull young fellow, and reputing it a kinde of iniury offered to his Lady and Mistris, if there he should receiue any ill entertainment, as likewise to himselfe, if this poore Rogue should suffer for his comming thither; as well out of this respect, as also for that he was incensed against those, who stroue to get the honour of the day, and to winne grace by doing something brauely in her presence, brea∣king through the thickest of all the people, he went out against the Bull, who forsaking him he formerly followed, made directly towards himselfe. All that beheld this, thought him either foolish or mad, that should so desperately put himselfe forth to incounter with a Beast of that courage and fiercenesse, loo∣king euery minute, when he should take him vp betweene his Hornes; and tossing him vp aloft, breake euery bone of him in pieces. All of them with lowd voices cride out vnto him, Take heed, for the passion of God, if you loue your life, looke to your selfe; for if you had a thousand liues, they are all in danger of losing. You may by this time imagine with your selues, what a poore taking his Spouse was in: for mine owne part I know not what to say therein, saue that she was as a woman bereft of her proper Soule, and was be∣come an insensible body, through too much Sence. The Bull bowed downe his head for to fasten his blowe vpon him, but this was but an humbling him∣selfe to the sacrifice, for he neuer came to lift it vp againe. For the Moore wrything his body aside, and with extraordinary quicknesse vnsheathing his sword, acting it all in an instant, he gaue him such a cut in the neck, close vn∣to the horne, that parting the bones of the braine in funder, hee left his head hanging by his winde-pipe, and there he lay for dead.

This done (as though he had done nothing) sheathing his sword, he present∣ly leaues the Place. But the common rout that loue nouelties, and hunger as well to heare, as to tell strange tales, (besides many horsemen, and foot-men, that began to flock about him, to know who he was) pressed so hard on euery side to see him, and so throng'd him both before and behind, that they had al∣most stiffled him, being scarce able to wagge amongst them. In the Win∣dowes, and on the Scaffolds, began a new murmure of admiration, like vn∣to the former, there being a generall ioy amongst them all, for that this thing had hapned at the conclusion of these feasts, so that nothing else was talked of, saue onely those two wonderfull accidents of that Euening, doubting which were the greater of the two; and taking in good part this second course which he set before them, hee left their palate well pleased, and their mouthes seasoned with a good rellish, to recommend such braue actions in perpetuall remembrance to all succeeding ages.

THE ARGVMENT.

The Story continues of these two illustrious Louers, Ozmin and Daraxa; wherein is declared her sorrow, and his griefe, with diuers other accidents; and how for to comfort and cheere vp Daraxa, there was a Tourneyment, or Iusting perfor∣med by many Knights, & Gentlemen of worth, wherein Ozmin bore away the bell, and had the glory of the day: yet all this could not make Daraxa merry.

THis day Daraxa had (as you haue seene) her pleasures interrupted, her ioyes intermixed with griefes, her delights false, and her con∣tents vnsauoury: For scarce had arriued the comfort which she tooke in seeing that which she most desired, but on the sudden it was ouer-taken

with feare of danger: it did likewise torment her, to thinke with her selfe, that she knew not how, nor vpon what occasion to see him once againe, nor how she might feed her fill, satisfying the hunger of her eyes, on the delicate food of her sweet desire. And because Pleasure appeares not, where Sorrow is in place, it could not be discerned in her countenance, whether these Feasts had giuen her that contentment, for which they were intended: As well for this, as for that these Gallants were somewhat more heated then before, bee∣ing set on fire with that beautifull fayrenesse, and fayre beauty of Daraxa, de∣sirous more then euer to entertayne her with pleasures, and that fitting occa∣sion might be offered to come againe to the sight of her; in this their pride of heart, and heat of blood, they ordayned a Tourney, wherein Don Rodrigo was to be the Challenger.

And some few nights after, the Challenge was publisht with great store of musicall Instruments, and bright-burning Torches, that all the streetes, toge∣ther with the great Place, seemed to be all on a flame: in this solemne manner they set vp the Challenge, where it might best be seene and read of all that pas∣sed by.

There was a place for Tourneyment neere vnto the Gate, which they call the gate of Cordoua, adioyning to the wall, (which I haue sometimes seene and well knowne, though now decayed) where the Knights and Gentlemen went to exercise Armes, and to proue their Lances: there Don Alonso de Zun∣niga, being but a new beginner, did likewise practise amongst the rest, desi∣rous to shew himselfe in this Tourney, for the great affection which hee bare to Daraxa. He was afraid he should rather lose then get honour in this Tour∣neyment, nor did he sticke in all Companies publikely to say as much; not be∣cause he wanted eyther strength, or courage; but because in all things what∣soeuer, Vse makes masteries: for they that haue onely the bare Theoricke, and naked speculation of things, be they neuer so skilfull in this their contempla∣tiue knowledge, they erre in their ayme, be they neuer so confident in their vnder-takings. And in this, of all other he was most vnwilling to erre, the thought whereof did much afflict him, yet made him with-all more carefull how to behaue himselfe in the businesse.

Ozmin on the other side desired to haue as few enemies as hee could, and because he might not Tourney, nor thought it possible to be admitted into the number, he would faine haue some-body to enter the Lists, that might ouer-throw Don Rodrigo's pride; for that he was more ielous of him, then of all the rest: more to effect this his purpose, then any mind that he had therein to do his Master seruice, he spake thus vnto him:

Sir, if you be pleased to grant me free liberty of speech, I may haply deliuer that vnto you, which may be of some profit vnto you in this so honourable an occasion. Don Alonso dreaming of nothing lesse, then that he vvould treat with him touching such Gentleman-like exercises as these, but rather suppo∣sing that he would entertaine him with some discourse touching his Loue, sayd vnto him; You are too slow in vnfolding your selfe, considering the haste I haue to heare thee, and the longing desire which I haue to know what it is thou wilt say vnto me.

Sir, (quoth he) I find, that of force you must bee present at this famous Tourneyment, the noyse whereof, as it hath filled euery mans eare, so it is now all their talke: nor do I wonder, that where the reward of a glorious name lyes at stake, men go on fearefully, out of their great desire that they haue to gaine it. I that am your poore creature, will doe you the best seruice I can, by instructing and enabling you in that vvhich you are desirous to at∣tayne vnto in the exercise of Horsemanship, and the vse of Armes, and that in a short time; no way doubting but my instructions shall bring foorth good fruits of what I promise. Let not this seeme strange vnto you, nor let my

youth scandall my skill; for I must tell you, they beeing things whereunto I haue euen beene bred, they are familiar vnto mee, and I dare boldly boast my knowledge in them. Don Alonso was much ioyed in hearing him, and giuing him many thankes for this his voluntary offer of his loue and seruice: he told him; If thou performest what thou speakest, thou shalt bind me much vnto thee. Ozmin made answere; He that promiseth that, which he cannot per∣forme, is as wide of his word, as he is from the worke; and meanes nothing but deceit; but he that stands in those tearmes, as I doe now, where trickes cannot serue the turne, he must of force, (vnlesse he bee a foole) accomplish more in deeds, then he promiseth in his vvords.

Take order, Sir, that Armes be prouided for your owne person, and mine, and then you shall quickly know, that by how much the slower I haue beene in my offer, by so much the sooner I will bring it to effect: freeing my selfe from this debt, but not from that obligation which I haue to serue you. Don Alonso presently gaue order to haue all things necessary prouided, and when they vvere fitted for the purpose, they went foorth to a place a part, where that day, those that followed till the determined time of the Tourneying, they spent their time in the exercises which that solemne Feast required. So that in a very short time, Alonso learn'd to keepe his seate so sure, as if hee had beene lockt to his Saddle, bearing his Lance with so gracefull a carriage, and cowching it in his wrest with so comely a diportment, as if he had many yeeres beene practised in the Feates of Armes: vvhereupon vvere very good helpes, his cleane proportion of body, accompanied with a smart and nymble kinde of strength, which gaue no small gracefull successe to his per∣formance.

From his dexterity in vaulting on his horse, passing lightly from one Saddle to another, from his directions in his teaching, and from the shape, propor∣tion, fashion of his body, from his behauiour, besides the garbe of Ozmins language, Don Alonço began to thinke with himselfe, that it was impossible this mans name should be Ambrosio, much lesse a Labourer, vnlesse perhaps he laboured with his wretched Fortunes, whereof hee seemed to make shew. He discouered by his actions the liuely splendour of some principall person nobly descended, who by some various successe of Fortune, wandred vp and downe in this disguise: and not being able to contayne himselfe in quiet, till he were rid of this doubt, taking him one day aside, hee spake thus in secret vnto him:

Ambrosio, it is not long that you haue serued me, but in this short time you haue beene with me, you haue bound me much vnto you: your vertues, and your noble kind of carriage speake what you are; and therefore it is in vayne to seeke any longer to conceale your selfe: vnder the course vayle of these base and vile clothes, and vnder this poore habit, which thou now wea∣rest, lyes hid a nobler office, and a nobler name, (like Iewels lap't vp in lea∣ther-Cases.) I now know by manifest signes which I haue noted and obser∣ued in thee, that thou doest, (or to speake more properly) hast deceiued me: for, that a poore Labourer, whose person you are willing to represent, should be so generall (especially being so young) in all kind of knowledge, but more particularly in the exercise of Armes and Horsemanship, is a thing almost (let me call in that word againe, and say) beyond beliefe. I haue seene in thee, and plainely perceyued, that vnder these hard clods of earth, and muddy shels, is inclosed the finest gold, and the purest orientall Pearles the vvorld can afford. What I am, it is already well knowne vnto thee; what thou art, I am yet to seeke; howbeit (as I say) the causes are knowne by their effects, and that thou canst not any longer conceale thy selfe from me. I sweare vnto thee by the faith which I haue in Iesus Christ, and by the Order of Knight-hood which I professe and maintaine, to be thy both faithfull and secret friend, keeping that

vnder the Locke of Silence, which thou shalt deposite in my bosome, assi∣sting thee in all that I am able, both in my purse and person. Giue mee an ac∣count of thy fortune, that I may in some sort cancell the debt, wherein I stand bound vnto thee for those reall courtesies, vvhich I haue receiued from thee. Hereunto Ozmin thus replyde:

So strongly (Sir) haue you coniur'd me; so squiz'd the Grapes in the vvine∣presse, that you must of force wring that from my Soule, which with any o∣ther strayning in the world, saue by these the Presses of your Gentleman-like proceeding, were impossible to be drawne from me. Complying therefore with that which you cōmand me, putting assured confidence as well in your person, as your promise, I shall giue you to vnderstand, that I am a Gentle∣man; my natiue Soyle Saragoça in Aragon; my name Iayme Uiues, which I borrowed from my father; for so likewise vvas he called. It is not many yeres since, that following an occasion, (it being the nature of young-men to bee in action) I fell into the Moores hands, and was made a slaue, by a subtill kind of trechery, and false play of certaine fained friends; which, whether it were oc∣casioned through their enuy, or my misfortune, is too large a tale to tell you. It shall suffice that I deliuer vnto you, that being in their power, they sold me to a Renegado, one that had renounced his Christianity; who, how he did vse me, it is inough to haue nam'd his condition. He led me along with him, till he had brought me to Granada, where a Gentleman bought mee, called Zegri, one of the principallest persons in that City. This man had a sonne of the same yeeres with my selfe, vvhose name was Ozmin, who because he was the very picture of my selfe, as well in age, as in stature, feature, fauour, con∣dition, and all things else whatsoeuer: for that I did so truly resemble him, he was the more desirous to buy me, and to vse me the better, that it might breed the greater fastnesse and friendship betweene vs. I taught him all I could or knew, according as my selfe had learned of my friends at home in mine owne Country, which was the more perfected in mee by the frequent practice of such like exercises, being of that common vse with vs, as nothing more. From whence I reaped no small benefit; for, by conuersing with my Masters sonne, my knowledge was thereby increased, which otherwise I might haply haue forgot: and experience teacheth vs, That men by tea∣ching, come to learne. Hence grew to be refined both in the sonne and father, that affection which they bore vnto me; trusting me with their persons and wealth; so much did they rely vpon my truth and honesty.

This young Gentleman was a Suitour to Daraxa, daughter to the Alcalde de Baça; (my Mistresse, whom you so much adore:) the marriage was treated of, and vpon the point to take effect; for the Articles of agreement were al∣ready drawne, and no doubt the match ere this had beene concluded, had not the warres hindred it, and the present siege that was then layd vnto it, wher∣by they were forced to deferre it till some fitter time.

Baça was shortly after yeelded vp, by occasion whereof, this intended Marriage hung in suspence. And because I was then Dominus Fac-totum, and the onely man in fauour and trust with them, I went and came with presents, and other inter-changeable kindnesses, from the one City to the other: it be∣ing my good fortune to be in Baça at that time, when it was rendred vp; and so I recouered my liberty, together with many other Captiues. I would faine haue returned home to mine owne Countrey, but I wanted money: In the end I had notice, that a Kinsman of mine was abiding in this City. Two things did concurre to draw me hither; the desire I had to see this place, (be∣ing so noble and magnificent a City) and the supplying of my wants, the bet∣ter to performe my Iourney. I continued here a great while, without finding him, that I sought for: for hearing no newes of him, but such as were vncer∣taine, it turned to my vtter vn-doing; by finding that which I did not seeke

for, as in such cases it commonly falleth out. I vvent wandring vp and downe the City, and hauing little money, and much care, it was my happe to meete with a rare piece of Nature, an admirable Beauty; (at least in my eye, how∣soeuer in other it might be otherwise) but that's all one, beeing that is onely faire, which most pleaseth. To her I deliuered vp all my faculties, leauing to my selfe not one of them to liue with me: I made now no more any recko∣ning of my selfe, nor possessed any thing which was not hers. This faire work∣manship is Donna Elvira, sister to Don Rodrigo, and daughter to Don Luys de Padilla, my old Master. And because counsell (as the saying is) springeth from necessity, seeing my selfe so wholly lost in her loue, and not finding any meanes to manifest my affection, together with the quality of my person, I held it my best course to write Letters vnto my father of the recouery of my liberty, and that I was indebted in a thousand double Ducats; and that he would be pleased to supply me with so much moneys for my reliefe. Which businesse succeeded well; for hauing sent me the whole Summe, and a seruant with a horse for my iourney, I put my selfe into good Cloathes, and fitted my selfe with all things necessary according to mine owne mind. The two or three first dayes I began to make that street my walke, giuing many a turne at all howers of the day, but could neuer haue the happinesse to see her. Now, from my continuall walking that way, I began by some suspicious people to be obserued, who seemed to haue a watchfull eye ouer me; wherefore, for the auoyding of Spyes, I with-drew my selfe from my wonted walke, and be∣tooke my selfe to a more retired course of life.

My seruant (to whom I imparted my Loue-businesses) thinking vpon some course for me, aduised me (as beeing elder and better experienced then my selfe) finding a certaine piece of Worke going forward in my Lords house, to suite my selfe like a day-Labourer, and to change my name, that I might not be knowne, and so ranke my selfe amongst the rest, that are hired to digge and carry away the rubbish from the Masons worke. I began to consider with my selfe, what might happen thereupon; but because Loue ouer comes all diffi∣culties, and Death is too weake an aduersary to withstand its force, all feare was layd aside, euery thing seemed easie vnto me, I put on a resolution to en∣tertaine his aduice, and so I did accordingly. At that time there befell mee an vn-expected accident, vvhich was this; When the Worke was finished, they receiu'd me into the house to be their Gardiner. Then, & neuer till then, was that happy day that I long looked for: my Moone was now come to her Full; and I was now climing to the height of my good fortune: for the very first day that I supplyde that place, and had but newly set foot within the gar∣den, I luckily met with Daraxa; she wondred to see me there, and I no lesse to behold her. We gaue an account each to other of our liues, relating our mutuall misfortunes; she recounting hers, and I mine; not sticking to tell her, how farre I was in loue with her friend, and in what fast Fetters she held my heart: intreating her withall, that since shee had such cleare knowledge both of my parents and selfe, and how nobly I was descended, she would bee pleased to fauour my pretension, and to worke so with her by her good in∣tercession, that I might come (by the holy Rite of Marriage) to enioy the fruit of my hopes. She promised she would, and did (I assure my selfe) all that in her lay to accomplish my desire. But because Fortune was euermore too too niggardly-handed towards mee, when these our tender loues (like young Plants) began to gather a little strength, and were in the way to shoot vp higher; the sprigs being rent off, the bud was blasted with a sharpe Easterly wind, and some malicious Worme lay gnawing at the root, till at last it wi∣thered to nothing, and was quite consumed: for I was on the sudden bani∣shed the house, not knowing why, nor wherefore; falling thus from the high∣est top of happinesse, to the lowest depth of misery. He that with the stroke

of a Launce kill'd the first Bull, hee that with the edge of his sword made the other fall dead at his foot, was my selfe. She saw me well inough, and knew me too, and was not a little glad of it, which I did plainely reade in her looks, and her eyes did expresse it to the life. And in this occasion (if it were possi∣ble) I would likewise striue to make some notable proofe for to please my Mi∣stris, who shall eternize my actions, by giuing the world to vnderstand who I am, and at what valuation I ought to be rated amongst the rest. My inabili∣ty to execute this my desire, makes me euen ready to burst with griefe; and if I could purchase it with my bloud, I would willingly let loose the Sluces of my veines to obtaine my wished end. Thus (Sir) you see, I haue freely laid open vnto you the whole successe of my loue, I haue giuen you a true account of it, there remaining nothing to my selfe in the reckoning, saue a grosse summe of disgraces. And with that word he stopt.

Don Alonso, who listned earnestly all this while vnto him, when his eares were let loose (for t'others tongue had tyde them to his mouth) threw his armes about his necke, clasping him close vnto him with streight imbrace∣ments: Whilst Ozmin in the meane while stroue to kisse his hands, but hee would not suffer him so to doe, saying; These hands and armes are to bee im∣ployed in thy seruice, that they may thereby deserue to gaine thine. It is no time now to vse compliments, nor to alter as yet the courses you haue hither∣to held, seeing your owne will is not in disposition to doe otherwise. As for the Tourneyment, let that neuer trouble your thoughts, for you shall enter in with the rest, and doubt you not of it, for it shall be so; therefore plucke vp your spirits, and set your heart at rest. Ozmin once more made offer to kisse his hands, humbling his knee on the ground. Don Alonso did the like, ma∣king many proffers of preuention: so forcibly did this new bond of friendship tye them each to other. Thus they past in large conuersation the rest of those dayes that remained, till the very time and houre, wherein the Tourneyment was to be performed.

I told you before, how that Don Rodrigo for his great arrogancie, was se∣cretly misliked by most of these Gallants. And therefore Don Alonso thought with himselfe that he had now met with that he desired. For Iayme Viues en∣tring into the Tourney, he was wel assured, that he would eclypse his honour, and beat downe his pride. Ozmin for his part likewise did desire it as much. And before the houre of arming was come, that he might see Daraxa enter the place, he walked vp and downe there a while, wondring to see it so richly adorned: the Hangings of Cloth of Gold and of Silke, were such and so many, as are vnable to be expressed; such variety was there in the colours; such cu∣riositie in the windowes; such beauty in the Ladies; such richnesse in their dressings, and their cloathes; such concourse of all sorts of Gallants, that all being put together, seemed to be one inestimable Iewell; and euery particu∣lar by it selfe, a precious Stone set therein. The Tilt-yard, which diuided the Place into two equall parts, ranne quite athwart the midst of it; and in a conuenient place was a Scaffold set vp for the Iudges, right ouer against the which were the windowes appointed for Daraxa and Donna Elvira, vvho vpon two white Palfreys, their furniture being blacke Veluet set with siluer Oes, and sutably frindged, entred well attended: Who after they had rounded the Place, tooke their Seates. Where Ozmin leauing her, hasted away, be∣cause anon after, the Challengers were to enter; who within a little space made their arriuall, wonderfull well set foorth, and in very good equipage. The Ho-boyes, the Trumpets, and other instruments of Musicke sounded without ceasing, till they were seated in their places. Afterwards entred the Defendants, and Don Alonso was one of the first; who hauing performed his three courses, and those singular well (that few did better) he presently re∣turned home.

Hauing before obtained licence for a Caualeere, a friend of his, whom hee expected from Xeres de la frontera, Ozmin in the meane while attending his comming. They came in both together to the place; and Alonso being his Padrino, presented him vnto them. The Moores Armes were all blacke, his Horse sutable, without any plume in his Helmet; instead whereof with great curiosity, he had made a Rose of Daraxa's Handkercher, which was an assu∣red token, whereby she might know him. He put himselfe in his posture, and as good lucke would haue it, he was to runne his first Launce against one of the Challengers Abettors: The signall was giuen, they made their Carreere, Ozmin hits his Aduersary on the Beuer, where hee brake his Launce; and gi∣uing him a counter-buffe with the Truncheon of his Staffe, he remoued him from his Saddle, and fell with that stroke to the ground ouer his horse crup∣per, but he had no other harme, saue what he suffered with the weight of his Armour. For the two last courses, Don Rodrigo put himselfe forth, who ligh∣ted with his first Launce on the left arme of the Moore, neere vnto the shoul∣der, remaining wounded by him in the pouldrons on the right side, where he brake his staffe in three pieces. With the last Don Rodrigo mist and Ozmin brake his neere the sight of his Helmet, where hee left behinde him a great splinter of his Launce; so that it was generally thought, that he had shrewd∣ly wounded him; but his Helmet defended him so well, that he had no great harme.

The Moore hauing broken his three Launces, went his way wonderfully ioyed with his Victory; but much more Don Alonso who had brought him as his Champion into the field, and could not finde any place large inough to in∣tertaine his ioy. They quitted the Place, and went home to his house to dis∣arme himselfe, suffering no man else to see his face. And putting on his or∣dinary apparell, he secretly went out at a posterne doore on the backside of the house, returning to behold his deare Daraxa, and to see that which passed in the Tilt-yard. Hee had gotten so neere vnto his Mistris, that they might in a manner haue shaken hands: they looked steadily each on other, but he euermore bare his eyes sadly, and with a heauy cheere; but she beyond all degrees of sadnesse, supposing that the cause of his sorrow might be, that she had not cheered him with some gracious cast of her eye. Nor could shee tell what to thinke, so much was she amazed, to see him Tilt in blacke both Horse and Armour, being it is a signe amongst them of euill lucke. All this put together, wrought in her a most deepe melancholly, and continued so ex∣tremely passionate therein, and was so surcharged with sorrow, that the sports being scarce ended, her heart trembling in her body, shee left her win∣dow, and hastned home. They which did accompany her, did much maruell that she went away no better pleased, seeming to take no contentment in what was done, and withall began to murmure and mutter amongst them∣selues, euery one suspecting that, which his owne malice did suggest vn∣to him.

Don Luys, like a wise Gentleman, as oft as he heard any reasoning there∣of, spake still in her excuse; the like he did with his sonnes that Euening, when he found them grumbling at her carriage, telling them that an afflicted soule weepes in the midst of mirth, and that there is not any thing that can minister matter of ioy and gladnes to man or woman, that is absent from those, whom they best affect. Good things are so much the more esteemed, by how much the more we inioy them with knowne persons, and our particular acquain∣tance.

Towards strangers, there may (no doubt) be many intertainments giuen to moue pleasure and delight; but (alas) they haue no feeling of them; their thoughts are otherwise taken vp, and in them the increase of sorrow is so much the more, by how much in others they see the greater ioy. I blame her

not for it, nor doe I thinke it a thing so strange; but rather imagine it to haue proceeded from her great prudence, then any dislike she had of our sports, and doe meerely attribute it to her graue and sober behauiour; whereas the con∣trary vvould haue argued too much lightnesse, and an vnsettled kind of car∣riage, which imputation, women that prize their vertue and goodnesse, study to auoid. Besides, she is farre from father and mother, and from her best-beloued; and (though free in her vsage) yet a Captiue in her condition, and that in a strange Country, not knowing how to remedy her selfe, nor when she shall finde the meanes. Let euery man examine his owne bosome, let him but make her case his owne, and then hee will tell mee another tale, and ingenuously confesse, that he should finde himselfe affected, iust as she is now. And in doing otherwise, is (as it is with him that is in health) to bid the sicke to eate and be well.

This discourse hauing past in secret amongst them, they treated afterwards in publike of the Zerezano, how brauely hee had behau'd himselfe that day; and how (albeit they desired much to know who he was) they could neuer get any more out of Don Alonso, then what he told them at first, and they beleeued it was true. Daraxa's melancholly increased dayly more & more, but the cause thereof none could guesse aright: they were all wide of the marke, none came neere the Butt: of all that shot their bolts; some fell too short, and some flew ouer. All did iudge amisse, inuenting in the meane time all the entertainments their wits could deuise to giue her content: but should they haue broken their braines in the study thereof, they had neuer been neerer their purpose: for she was as farre from being capable of the delights they deuised for her, as they were from entring within the Circle of her desires.

THE ARGVMENT.

Continuing the Story of the noble loues of these two disconsolate Louers, it is now recounted how Don Luys, for to cheere vp the gentle Daraxa, brought her to a pleasant Village, whither Ozmin repairing, was set vpon by a com∣pany of Clownes. And in the defence of himselfe he slewe foure of them out∣right, and wounded many others. For the which fact he was committed to pri∣son, and sentenced to death; together with the diuers and sundry accidents that insued thereupon; and how in the end hee was set at liberty. And how himselfe and Daraxa turning Christians, their happy Nuptials were solemn∣ly celebrated in the presence of the King and Queene of Spaine.

DON LVYS had a house in Axarafe, and other possessions belong∣ing thereunto, by the vert ue of his Mayorasgoship, in a little Village appertaining to Seuill. The season was temperate, beeing then about February, at which time the Fields seeme to put on their new apparell; thi∣ther they agreed to goe to make merry, and to recreate themselues for some few dayes, that they might not leaue this path vntroden, to see if by this meanes they could diuert her sorrowes. With this shee seemed somewhat pleased, and made shew of better cheerefulnes then before; supposing, if she went forth of the Citie, shee should finde some meanes or other, to see and speake with Ozmin. They made ready their Recamara, and all fitting proui∣sion for such a businesse: and it was good sport to behold the hurly burly and confused noise amongst them, as of him that had the charge of Gray-hounds, of that other, that was to goe along with the setting dogs, the Tumblers, and the Kennell of the hounds; of a third, that carried Hawkes a-field; of this man bearing the Owle, that his Peece on his shoulder; of some with Crosse∣bowes in their hands; othersome with Mules laden with Bedding, Hangings,

and other houshold-stuffe, and all of them trooping together, laughing and making themselues merry with the conceiued ioy of this Feast.

Don Alonso hauing notice hereof, comes me to Ozmin, and tels him that their Mistresses were gone abroad into the Country to take the ayre, and disport themselues, and that they were to remaine there some time: but when they would returne againe, that he knew not. This newes was nothing dis∣pleasing vnto them for two respects: the one, for that they might (hap∣pely) meet there with the fewer Competitors in the pursuit of their Loues; the other, that they might haue the better occasion not to be knowne. The nights were neither cleere, nor darke, nor cold, nor hot; but with a plea∣sant noise of stilnesse, and delicate darke clearenesse, heau'n and earth were both so ouer-spred, that the heart of man could not imagine a fitter night for the purpose.

These two louing friends, and friendly Louers, agreed to try their for∣tunes, and to see what prize they could make in the choise of two such rich Bottomes as these were, laden with so much Honour, Beauty, and Wealth, the greatest treasure the world can afford. They disguised themselues, appa∣relling their bodies with good honest Country cloathes, like plaine Husband∣men, and set forth about Sun-set vpon two hackney Iades; and when they came neere vnto the Village, some quarter of a League, or there-abouts, they alighted at a certaine Farme-house; to the end, that by marching thus on foot, the lesser notice might be taken of them. Which might then haue fell out very happily for them, if Fortune had not wheeled her selfe about, and turned her back towards them; for they arriued in very good time, euen then when their Ladies were in the Balcon intertaining discourse, wholly fitting themselues for conuersation, and mirth, as the company, or occasion should giue cause.

Don Alonso durst not draw too neere, for feare of frighting the game; and therefore intreated his Companion to make the winde-lase, and to negoti∣ate alone for them both; because he being beloued of Donna Eluira, and well knowne to Daraxa, he had no reason to hide himselfe from them. Ozmin then by degrees, (with a carefull kinde of carelesnesse) stole neerer and neerer, sing∣ing in a low Base as it were, humming betweene the teeth an Arabique song; which (to those that vnderstood the language) were cleere notes: But to those that knew it not, and were neglectfull thereof, it seemed no more then an or∣dinary La, La, La. Donna Elvira (hearkening vnto him) told Daraxa; Euen on these rude kinde of people God hath bestow'd his gifts, if they knew vvell how to vse them. Doe you not obserue that sauage fellow, what a sweet and well-tuned voice he hath; and how he rellisheth and ayreth his notes, and how merrily he chants it, as if his mother had brought him into the world with a prick-song? But this is in him as water that raines it selfe into the Sea without any profit. By this you see (said Daraxa) that all things are esteemed according to the subiect wherein they subsist. These country Clownes, if in their tender age they be not trans-planted into a political & Ciuill life: and if they be not remoued and changed from their barren, to better grounds, and wholly stript of that rugged bark, wherin they are born, it is a thousand to one if euer they come to be well behau'd. Whereas on the contrary, those that are Citizens, and naturally of a good disposition, are like the Vine, which if it continue a yeere vndrest and vntrim'd, it yeeldeth fruit notwithstanding, though it be but a little: but if you returne to prune and husband it aright, it acknowledgeth the good it hath receiued, and renders a very large and thankefull recompence. But this fellow that sings heere now, is such a knotty piece of Timber, such an arrant Clowne, that the best Carpenter in the world cannot with his Axe nor his Plainer, hewe him into fashion, or shaue him to any smoothnesse of ciuill carriage, but for euer remaine an vn∣profitable

blocke. It is a torment to me to heare this Turtle sing; if it please you, let vs go hence, for it is time to with-draw our selues, that we may take our rest.

The Louers well vnderstood one another; she the Song, and he her words; and to what end she spake them. The rest of the Ladies went their way, only Daraxa remained a little behind after the rest, and speaking to him in the Arabicke tongue, will'd him to stay there: where he stood waiting for her, and in the meane while, walked carelesly vp and downe, but still with an eye towards the Window, to see vvhen she should make her returne.

The baser sort of people, (by a secret kind of instinct) do euermore beare a naturall hatred to those that are Noble; as the Lyzard to the Snake, the Swan to the Eagle, the Cocke to the a 1.172 Phesant, the Crab to the Cuttle-fish, the Dol∣phin to the Whale, Oyle to Pitch, the Vine to the Cole-wort, and the like. And if you aske, (as desirous to know, vvhat is the naturall cause thereof,) I can shew you no other reason for it, more then that the Adamant drawes vn∣to it the Yron that the Marygold followes the Sunne, the Basiliske kills by Looking, and Swallow▪ wort helpes the Sight. For as some things naturally loue one another, so othersome hate and abhorre by a celestiall influence; the reason whereof mortall men haue not to this day beene able to reach vnto. And that things of diuers kinds haue this property, it is no vvonder, because they consist of differing compositions, dispositions, and inclinations in na∣ture: but that reasonable men, both t'one and t'other, molded of one and the same earth, of one flesh, of one blood, of one beginning, created-forme, and the selfe-same end, liuing vnder one selfe-same Law, beeing of one and the same Religion, and all of them in all and euery part, (as farre-foorth as they are men) so one selfe-same substance; that out of that Similiancy, man natu∣rally loues man: that yet (I say) there should be that contrariety and vnsauo∣rie taste; that this Raskallity, and base off-scumme of the earth, more hard then Flint, or the Gallician Nut, should persecute the Nobility with that ve∣hemencie as they do, is a matter to me of great admiration.

That night certaine young Lads of the Parish likewise walked abroad, and lighted by chance vpon these two Strangers: and at the very first incounter, without any cause or reason in the world; no occasion being giuen them, be∣gan to flocke together; and gathering themselues into a ring, beganne to cry amaine; A Woolfe, a Woolfe, the Woolfe is come: and throwing there∣withall little stones by hand-fuls on their heads, (as they had showred down from heauen) they shrewdly be-pelted their Pates: so that they were forced to flie, vnable to make any longer stay, their intertainment was so bad. And so they returned without any more ado, Ozmin being dis-appointed (which did much grieue him) of taking his leaue of his Mistresse. They went thither where their horses stood; and on them to the City, vvith purpose to returne late againe in the night that they might not bee discouered. But this fore∣cast stood them in little stead: for if Lightning and Thunder should haue fal∣len from heauen, and though they knew it should either burne or dash them in pieces, there was one Rogue amongst the rest, that would rather lose his life, then carry himselfe ciuilly towards them; and onely out of no other end but to do mischiefe and villany. Scarce had they the next night following set foot in the Village, but that a knot of these mad-caps being met together, and knowing them to be the very same whom they abused the night before, one with a Sling, another with a Yard, this man with a Bore-speare, that with a Batt, some with Staues, some with Spits, not sparing so much as the Peele and Maulkin of their Ouens, (as if they were to go out against a mad Dog) they ioyntly set vpon them: but they found them better prouided then they were the night before; for they had brought with them good Iackes of Male, and steele Murrians, and strong Bucklers. On the one side you might see stones,

Cudgels, and lowd showtes; and on the other, many strong blowes, and cut∣ting slashes with the sword; and on both such a tumult, and such a stirre, that with the noyse thereof, the vvhole Village seemed to be vp in armes; so like a little warre did this fierce fight appeare. Don Alonso, in crossing the street, was vn-awares with an vnluckie stone strooke on the brest, and fell to the ground, wanting strength to recouer himselfe to returne afresh to the fight. Wherefore as well as he could, he crawled vp, and with-drew himselfe aside, while Ozmin in the meane time draue them vp before him in the street, wor∣king them much harme: for some of them (and those not a few) were sore hurt, and three left dead in the place. The tumult increasing, all the whole Village came out at once, and stopt the passage, that he could not, though he would neuer so faine, haue fled from them. There was got now on the one side of him a Turfe-breaker, a sturdy stout Rogue, who vvith the Barre of a doore strooke him such a cruell blow on the shoulder, that he forc't him vpon his knees: but it did nothing benefit him, that he was the Alcalde's sonne; for before that he could come to double his blow vpon him, (which he was about to do) he gaue him such a slash, that he claue his head in twaine, as it had bin of a Kid or a Calfe, leauing him lying like a Tunny on the shore, hauing ren∣dred vp his life in satisfaction of his Roguery. So many charged him on euery side, and laid such load vpon him, that being vnable any longer to defend him∣selfe, he was taken by them.

Daraxa and Donna Elvira, saw & heard all that had past between them, (but with much sorrow to see such vnciuil out-rage) euen from the very first be∣ginning of the Fray, as also what a coyle they kept, when they had caught him thus aliue, and had him in their hold, and how they bound his hands behind him with a Cord, as if he had beene one of their fellow-rogues. All of them on all sides intreated him ill; one buffetted him, another puncht him, a third kickt him, throwing on him a thousand disgracefull affronts, vvherewith they sought to be reuenged on him for all the wrongs he did them, who (be∣fore he was their prisoner) durst not looke him in the face.

What a beastly and a shamefull thing was this, to vse a man thus, when he was not able to make resistance, his hands being bound to the peace? A thing neuer to be done by any, but such base Villaines, and dogged Clownes, which kind of coorse vsage is naturall and proper vnto them. But what becomes now of Daraxa? how does she brooke this misfortune? how is she able with∣out swouning, to see his person thus basely abused, who did so much loue and adore his shadow? on the one side to see him prisoner, on the other, to see some wounded, and some slaine, and her honour lying in the midst betweene them both? for she knew well enough, when the case should bee layd open, Don Luys of force could not but aske, what Ambrosio made there, and what occasion drew him thither.

In this confusion, necessity draue her to sit in councell with her selfe what course were best to be taken. To preuent therefore farther mischiefe, she de∣uised a Letter, which when she had sealed, she lockt it vp in a little Cabinet that she had, to the intent that when Don Luys should come vnto her, shee might make shew thereof for her owne discharge.

Now by this time the day began to appeare, and yet the people were not quieted. They had sent vnto the City to giue notice of what had happened, to the end that information might be taken how things had past, and to open the businesse. And when the Notary was come, they began to examine Wit∣nesses; whereof many (without being called) made their voluntary appea∣rance. For ill men, of themselues inuite themselues vnbidden, onely out of a desire to do that is ill: and of enemies, become friends, to condemne the in∣nocent. Some sware that Ozmin had sixe or seuen, besides himselfe in his com∣pany; others, that he was seene to come out of Don Luys his house, and that

some cryde out of the window, Kill them, kill them. Others, that the people of the Towne resting secure and quiet, they wilfully set vpon them; others, that they came and challenged them out of their houses; there not being one man amongst them all that sware a truth. God deliuer vs from such Clownes, for they are as stiffe as Oakes, and of the same toughnesse of nature, cruell, and hard-hearted: if you will haue any fruit from them, they must bee vsed like Akornes, beaten downe with Cudgels and dry blowes; for they will sooner suffer themselues to be pluckt vp by the rootes, though it be to the vtter ruine of themselues, and their estates, then to bow or stoope, bee it neuer so little. And if they be once minded to persecute a man, they will periure themselues a thousand times, though the matter in question be not worth a straw, onely out of an inclination to doe that which is euill. And the ill is so much the worse, that these wretches thinke, that they do God good seruice therein, and that their soules are saued by it: and it is a wonder, if they confesse their fault, and repent themselues of this their rancour and malicious poyson. The deaths and wounds receiued, were prou'd vpon him, and the poore Gentle∣man laden with yrons, and put in safe custody. Don Luys, as soone as he had notice hereof, hastened to the Village, his daughter informed him of the bu∣sinesse, acquainting him truly with all that had past: he inquired likewise of Daraxa, who told him the same tale, and that she had sent for Ambrosio to come thither, for to dispatch him thence with Letters for Granada, and be∣fore that he could get to speake with her, they had these two nights together beaten him with Cudgels, and pelted him with stones; so that, though her Letters were written, and lay ready for him, shee could not come to deliuer them into his hands. Don Luys desired her, that she would shew him the Letter, as well to see the contents thereof, as also for his owne discharge, she being by their Maiesties committed to his custody. Shee (though she seemed loth so to do) condescended at last to his request, and gaue him the Letter, how beit little intreaty would haue serued the turne; for she desired nothing more, then to haue him see what she had writt. And taking it from foorth her Cabinet, she sayd vnto him; I giue it vnto you, that you may perceiue my truth, and conceiue no ielousie, that I vvrite any thing vvorthy the hiding from you. Don Luys tooke the Letter, and going to reade it, found that it was vvritten in the Arabicke tongue, wherein he had no knowledge. Hee then made inquirie for one that could reade and interpret that Language; the Contents whereof were, that she signified vnto her father, vvhat a griefe it vvas vnto her, to liue thus diuided from him; and that she desired to be cer∣tified of his welfare; and if the desire she had to see him did not ouer-sway all other respects, she liu'd otherwise in as full content as any woman in the world, being more made of by Don Luys, then any of his owne children: And therefore besought him, that in acknowledgement of this his kindnesse, and courteous intertainment, he vvould be pleased to remember him with some Present worthy his desert.

And because in such like hurly-burlies as these, vvords multiply more and more, and together with the stirre, reports, gather-strength, and increase; and for that euery one canonizeth his owne presumption, according as hee is in loue vvith it, they began to murmure against Don Luys, and the people of his house. The Mustard was got vp already into their Noses, and their fingers began to itch; but he, like a vvise and discreet Gentleman, (as he was) thought fit for the present to dissemble the matter; and seeming to take little notice of their malicious proceeding, he remoued his vvhole houshold, and returned backe to the City.

Now, vvhilest these things thus succeeded, Granada had yeelded her selfe to the Conquerours, vpon such conditions as the Chronicles mention, and as by our fore-fathers hath beene reported vnto vs. Amongst those other No∣bles

that vvere found there at that time, were the two fellow-father-in∣lawes, Alboaçen father to Ozmin, and the Alcayde de Baça: both which besought to be baptized, desirous to become Christians: vvhich Ceremonie being performed, the Alcayde intreated their Maiesties hee might haue li∣cence to goe see his daughter Daraxa: vvhich being granted, they tolde him he should be aduised from them ere long, how and when it should be. Alboaçen thinking that his sonne was dead, or taken Captiue, vsed all dili∣gence to know what was become of him, but he could neuer get any inkling thereof. For the vvhich (as he had good reason so to be) he vvas wondrous sad, not onely as he was his onely child, but being also such a sonne, so well qualified as he was, and descended of such rich and noble Parents, the onely hope of their House. The Alcayde had no lesse feeling of it then he, as vvell for that he loued him as dearely, as if he had beene his owne; as also for the griefe Daraxa would conceiue, vvhen she should come to heare the tidings of this heauy newes. Their Maiesties on their part had dispatcht a messenger vnto Seuill with expresse command, that Don Luys should presently without delay repaire vnto them, and bring Daraxa along vvith him; vvith that re∣spect and good vsage, wher-withall they had put him in trust.

Vpon the receipt of these Letters, she (being acquainted what order was giuen) vvas at her vvits end, and ready to runne mad, because of force, vpon this occasion, she was to depart, grieuing thus to go away, before she should see an end of this businesse not knowing what would become of it; and sor∣rowing beyond measure that her dearest Loue should be left behind her in prison; and that now when he had most need of her helpe, she must in this his greatest extremity, be driuen to leaue him to shift for himselfe. Her thoughts were all in a confusion, her imagination vvas troubled and her heart (through the vveight of her griefes) as heauy as Lead, calling her selfe a thousand times more vnfortunate, then Misfortune it selfe, and of all other the most wretched woman.

She was resoluing to finish all at once, and together with her Loue, to lose her life, vvith a perplexed, but almost-settled mind, it was in her deliberation to haue acted a most cruell errour vpon her selfe, in token of that chaste and true loue vvhich she bare to Ozmin. But Daraxa, vvhose passion had not quite out-gone her iudgement, like a discreet Lady, (as she was) correcting her cruell determinations, taking vp her selfe when she was in the height of her speed, she resolued to trust her misfortunes in the hands of Fortune her enemy, expecting what-euer she vvould giue them; and being that the vtmost euill, was death, she vvould not despaire of the game till she saw the last man borne. But this resolution of sufferance could not stop a sea of teares, which burst with a swelling Tide from foorth her eyes. The standers by, supposed this to proceed out of her ouer-ioy, that she was to returne to her owne Country, but they were all deceiued, so that euery one spake to her, but none did comfort her. Don Rodrigo came to take his leaue of her, who with a countenance bathed with those cristalline teares, vvhich dropped from her heauenly eyes, spake vnto him in this manner following:

Noble Don Rodrigo, I might very well seeke to perswade you with abun∣dance of reasons to that good worke, vvhich vpon this present occasion I pre∣tend to present vnto you, and to craue your furtherance therein. Which in its owne nature is so iust, that I cannot forbeare to aske it, nor you to grant it, being that your selfe is so much interessed therein: you know (though I should not tell you) the obligation we haue to do good; which as a naturall and diuine Law speaketh particularly to euery mans soule and conscience. Nor is there any man so barbarous, that is ignorant thereof: and this carries somuch the more force with it, by how much the stronger the reasons are that are alledged; amongst the which, a principal one, and not the least, is, that we

apply this good vnto those, that haue eaten of our bread, and been intertained in our seruice. And because I know you can not be vnlike your selfe, my inter∣cession may seeme the lesse needfull. But that which I shall intreat at your hands, is this: You know, that Ambrosio was seruant to both our fathers: first to mine, then to yours: And therefore we are both bound (but I the more) to doe for him; hauing put himselfe through my default in that necessity, wherin now he is, the cause in hand no otherwise concerning him, but as I was interessed in the busines. By my hand he was thrust into this danger, I was the sole causer of it; and therefore I stand charged with it, and must put it to my account. If you will therefore free me from this debt; if you desire to giue me content; if you purpose to binde me vnto you, that I may for euer remaine the thankefull acknowledger of your loue and kindnesse, it must be, that by laying vpon your shoulders this weighty care of mine owne desire, that you seeke by all meanes to procure his liberty, which in the reckoning is mine; and my request vnto you is, that you indeuour it with that earnestnesse, as I doe de∣sire it. Don Luys, (whom I haue euer found my singular good Lord) will, be∣fore I goe hence, vse all possible diligence in his owne person, with his friends and kinsfolke; that the one ayding the other in his absence, may free mee of this debt, for the which I stand ingaged. Don Rodrigo promised to do his best, and so they parted.

Now, for that this poore Lady had left her best beloued in this great perill of his life, she was much grieued; and by so much the more, by how much the farther she was from him; so that when shee came to Granada, shee did not seeme to be the same she was.

Don Alonso, though he had escaped their hands, yet being sorely bruised in his brest, he was forced to keepe his bed, so soundly had the Clownes bang'd him. But when he afterwards heard, that his Companion was carried priso∣ner to Seuill, he got him out of his bed, posted thither, tooke infinit paines, trotting vp and downe, and neuer ceasing to sollicit his friends cause, as if the case had been his owne. Notwithstanding, what with the complaint of the Plaintifes; the accusation of Witnesses; the euill inclination of the Iudges, (either vpon information, or corruption; not fauouring the Defendant,) be∣sides the slaine and wounded (which were many) he could not saue him, toge∣ther with diuers other his good friends, from being condemned to be hanged at the common Gallowes.

Don Rodrigo was in a great rage, that his father and himselfe should find so little respect, as to hang vp a seruant of theirs, that had not offended the Law, had he had equall hearing, and a faire tryall. On the other side, Don Alonso stood much in maintenance of the Defendant, saying, that it was not to bee permitted; nor could the Law condemne a Gentleman, so nobly descended as his friend Iayme Uiues was, to be hanged: And that in case the fault were farre greater, yet the difference of quality ought to saue his life: At least it ought to priuiledge him from hanging, it being the Law, that, in matters deseruing death, Gentlemen should not be hanged, but be-headed. The Iudges and the rest of the Bench were distracted in this Case, and knew not what they were best to doe. Don Rodrigo, he stiles him his seruant; Don Alonço, his friend; Don Rodrigo pleades for him by the name of Ambrosio, and Don Alonço, by that of Iayme Viues, a Gentleman of Zaragosa; who, at the feast of their Buls, had made such noble proofe of his Valour, as the whole Citie could well witnesse: And that in the Turnament (he being his Padrino, or Cham∣pion that brought him in) vn-horst one of the Challengers, shewing that day great tokens of his worth and Valour. The difference was so great, the names so contrary; the qualities alledged so discrepant; that the Iudges, to cleere this doubt, resolued with themselues to take declaration thereof from him∣selfe. They demanded then of him, whether he were a Gentleman or no? Hee

answered that he was nobly descended, & of Royall Bloud, but that his name was neither Ambrosio, nor Iayme Viues. Then they willed him, that hee should manifest his name, and the quality of his person. Whereunto he made answer, that his punishment might excuse him for not discouering himselfe; and being that he was vndoubtedly to dye, it was no more necessary to tell it them, then it was materiall, to suffer either the one, or the other death. Then they desired him to deliuer, whether hee were the same man Don Alonço had reported, which had so brauely kill'd the two Buls, and gotten such honour in the Tour∣neyment.

He replide he was; but that he had neither of those names, whereby they called him. And because he was so loth to declare his Linage (conceiuing him thereby to be a man of quality,) they demurred vpon the busines, to see if they could worke the truth out of him, to know who he was; as also to winde out the reasons, why these two noble Gentlemen should so earnestly vndertake his defence. And which did not a little startle them; they saw the whole City did generally desire his liberty, & stood strongly affected towards him. Hereupon they dispatched some presently away for Zaragosa, that they might learne out the truth, & giue knowledge of his Birth. But hauing spent some dayes there∣in, and vsed many diligencies, they could not meet with any (for all their strict inquiry,) that could giue them notice who he might be, nor could deuise what manner of Gentleman he might be, either by his name, or any signes or tokens by them giuen, who failed not to describe him at full vnto them. Being retur∣ned with this ill Dispatch, albeit his friends did much importune for him, and the Magistrates of Iustice did often require him, that he would lay open his quality and condition, yet he would not do it, nor was it possible to perswade him thereunto. So the Iudges (the time limited being fully expired for farther respite) sore against their will, much pittying both his Youth and Valour, not being able to crosse the course of Iustice, being prest so earnestly by the impor∣tunity of the aduerse party, they confirmed their former fentence.

Daraxa, nor the two fathers were asleepe, whilest these things were in do∣ing; for they had made their Maiesties acquainted with the whole carriage of the businesse, & were by them informed of the truth thereof. Many petitions they put vp, and no sooner one Memoriall giuen, but another was a drawing to second their fuit: Daraxa, she in her owne person did sollicit the life of her espoused husband, begging it by the way of merced and grace: But their Ma∣iesties answered nothing thereunto. Yet secretly they dispatched Don Luys presently away, with their kingly prouision to the Iudges, that they should deliuer vnto him the Bill of the whole inditement, in euery point as it was ta∣ken from the beginning to the end, together with the prisoner, for that it did much concerne their Highnes seruice. Don Luys posted away (as he was com∣manded) with all the speed he could; whilest poore Daraxa, her own father, and father-in-law melted into teares, considering the haste which the Iudges would make in dispatching this poore innocent Gentleman. Which they so much the more feared, for that their Petitions receiued so slowe an answere. They knew not what to say, or think of this so long a delaying of them, with∣out giuing them any answer off or on, either good or bad, or any the least hope of life. This did exceedingly grieue them, but they knew not how to helpe themselues, nor had they left any one stone vn-remoued, but made all the meanes and friends they could. But that which did most daunt them, was, that the maine danger did consist in the delay.

Whilest they were thus strucken into their dumps, and doubts (for vvhat comfort can there be in so dangerous a suspension?) Don Luys (as you heard before,) spurred on a mayne, with much both speed and secresie. And as he en∣tred the gates of Seuill, Ozmin was led forth of the prison, to be carried to his execution. The streets, and euery place through which they past, were full of

people; all was tumult & noise, and not a person, but wept and shed teares, to see so handsome a yong man, so well fauour'd, so valiant, and well-belou'd for those famous deeds which he had publikely done, to bee so vntimely cut off: And the more was their sorrow, to see him dye without confession. Which made them all to thinke, that he did it to escape death, or to prolong his life: but he was silent, and spake not a word, nor shew'd any signe of sadnesse in his lookes, but with a smiling kinde of countenance beheld them all as he passed a∣long. They made now and then certaine stops, to see if they could exhort him to confesse himselfe, labouring all they could to perswade him, that hee would not lose body and Soule both at once. But hee answered them not a word, but held his peace all the while. The people continuing thus in this confusion, and the Citie wayting on this sad spectacle, Don Luys came, making the people giue way, pressing through the throng, to hinder the Execution. The (a) Al∣guazils thought it was a resistance of Iustice, and out of very feare which they had of Don Luys, for that he was a stout and valiant Gentleman, and dared to oppose himselfe to any danger, they forsooke Ozmin who was vnder their guard, and with a great hurry and clamour, they ranne to giue account of what had past, to the Magistrates, whose authority (they thought) it more neerly tou∣ched. Whereupon they came to know, what might be the cause of so great dis∣respect done vnto them. He put his hand in his pocket, and taking out the Kings Order, he deliuered it vnto them, which was by them, to their great contentments, most willingly obeyed. And so they brought Ozmin (being ac∣companied with all the Gentlemen of that Citie, and the common ioy of the people) to Don Luys his house; Where that night hee was intertained with a gallant Maske, setting vp many Torches and Cressets in the streetes and win∣dowes, for to giue the more generall content: And in token of their great ioy, they would haue celebrated those dayes hee stayed there with publike feasts; for now they knew who he was. But Don Luys would not giue vvay thereunto; but tying himselfe to his Instructions, carried him as his prisoner, along with him the next morning, being kindely vsed, and well intertained vpon the way, according to the greatnesse of his ranke and quality.

Being now arriued at Granada, hee kept him secretly with him some few dayes, vntill such time as he had order from their Maiesties to bring him to Court. Who when he was come before them, they ioyed much in the sight of him; and whilest he was standing thus in their presence, they commanded Daraxa to be called forth. Now when these two Louers thus suddenly met in such a place as that was, so vnexpectedly, and so farre beyond their hopes, eue∣ry man may make his owne heart iudge of the wonderfull ioy which they re∣ceiued in this happy (but vnlooked for) incounter, and imagine with himselfe what each of them did thinke and conceiue thereof. When each others eyes had fed their fill, the Queene made towards them, and told them that both their fathers were become Christians: howbeit, Daraxa knew so much be∣fore. She desired them to doe the like, which shee should receiue as a singular fauour from them; but that no other loue, nor feare should inforce them there∣unto, saue onely that of God, and their owne saluation. But howsoeuer, whe∣ther they did so or no, (for she would not compell the conscience) her pleasure was that they should now instantly inioy their liberty, and dispose of their Estates and Persons, according to their owne will and pleasure.

Ozmin would faine haue answered the Queene with all the ioynts and sin∣newes of his body, making them so many tongues, to render thankes to her Maiesty, for this so great a benefit; signifying that he was very willing to be baptized; and them addressing himselfe to Daraxa, in the presence of their Maiesties, he intreated her to doe the like. Daraxa, whose eye was neuer off from her dearest Ozmin (so hungry was she in beholding him) shedding a few sweet teares from her Rosie cheekes, directing her lookes & speech vnto their

Maiesties, she told them, That since it was Gods will to inlighten their vnder∣standing, and by many tribulations, to bring them to the knowledge of his truth, she was disposed, and that vnfeignedly, and with a true heart, humbly to submit her selfe thereunto, and to the obedience of their Maiesties, vnder whose protection and princely hands, she reposed both her selfe, and all that she had. So anon after, they were christened with a great deale of Ceremonie, naming the one Ferdinand, and the other Isabell; according to that of their Maiesties, who as God-father, and God-mother gaue them their names at the Font. Within some few dayes after, their Nuptials were celebrated with a great deale of glory and ostentation, many Presents and other courtesies be∣ing conferred vpon them in that City, where they liued all their life-time, and left behinde them an illustrious and noble off-spring, which continueth yet to this day in much honour and reputation in their Country.

We went hearkening to this Story, with a great deale of Silence, being led on attentiuely with it, till we came within sight of Caçalla: so that it seemed to haue been measured iust out for that iourney, so truely did the one iumpe with the other. Howbeit, it was somewhat more inlarged by the Author, flourished ouer with finer phrases, and a different Soule, to that which I haue deliuered vnto you.

Our honest Carrier, who remained mute from the beginning to the ending (which was no more then all of vs did) began now to finde a tongue, and was the first that opened his mouth. Alight (my masters) quoth hee: For heere I must leaue you: my way lyes along by this path. And with that hee cals vnto me, Come hither, (my yong Gallant) let vs make vp our reckoning before we part.

When I heard this, I was almost ready to hang my selfe, it was the bitterest draught, that ere went downe my throat. Is it e'ne so, (said I to my selfe?) Well, let it goe: for I did verily beleeue, that all that past betweene vs, had been in the way of friendship. Well, I dis-mounted, and got not vp so lightly before, as I now came downe heauily: for I knew not in the world what an∣swer to make him, saue onely to aske him, how much I was to pay him for the riding of nine Leagues? See what these Gentlemen giue, so must you. For your lodging and your dyet, you are to pay me three Royals more. The Vmbles of the Mule I now found to be deare meat vnto me (and that they stucke a lit∣tle also in his stomake:) but that which grieu'd me most, was; That I had not money to pay for it. And therefore I came vnto him, and told him; My friend, •…•…o, heere is your money for the reckning, so much you say is my part of the shot; but for my horse-hyre I owe you nothing; for you your selfe, with∣out any intreatie of mine, desired me to get vp, inuiting me thereunto of your owne accord.

What a Diuell (quoth he) meane you by this? Marry gupp with a murraine, you are a fine Gentleman indeed; doe you thinke to ride a cock-horse on free cost? you are a pretty Youth indeed. I replyde vpon him; we fall to scuffling; the Clergy-men inter -posed them-selues; they were to vmpire the businesse betweene vs: They condemned me to pay for the meat of my Beast for that night. I did so; making an euen reckoning with my purse, hauing no more left me in all the world, but twenty Marauedis, to beare my charges that night.

The Muletier went about his businesse; The Clergy-men, and my selfe, entred into Cacalla, where we take our leaue, euery man beta∣king himselfe to his owne way.

Notes

• * 1.1

  The Hyena and her qualities.
• a 1.2

  It is worse to be bad, then to be thought so.
• b 1.3

  What minde is that, which is base
• c 1.4

  In your great solemne feasts in Spaine, they vse to haue seuen, & in some places eight Prebends with Scepters of siluer in their hands, and Copes of cloth of gold on their backs, when they assist at di∣uine seruice, and singing of An∣themes. From which metaphor this phrase is bor∣rowed.
• d 1.5

  Arresto, is a French word: but because it is Spa∣niolized, I say, Arresto, is as much as a De∣cree, or Sen∣tence confirmed in the Supreme Counsell, from which there is no Appeale. So sayes Casaneus in his Catol. gloriae Mundi. Arre∣stum firmum, & fixum, à quo nemo prouo∣care possit. And it is a meere Greeke Word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, placitum, gratum, ae∣quum. That it is pronounced with a double rr: the reason is, for that the French is a Virile tongue. Resto consignado, is the set rest agreed vpon at Primero, which they may not passe. But jugar à resto abierto, vale, sin tassa, without limitation; when a man may set what he will: The Reader may take which sense be best liketh.
• * 1.6

  He that does that which he ought not, that haps to him, which hee thinkes not.
• * 1.7

  The effects of Detractors.
• * 1.8

  The Count Pa∣latines, anciently in Rome, had power and priui∣ledge to legiti∣mate Bastards, to giue degrees, and Titles of ho∣nour in learning, or otherwise. Vide Couarru∣•…•…ias in Voca∣bulo Palatino.
• a 1.9

  Allud•…•…ng to Ia∣cobs halting.
• * 1.10

  Guzmans father.
• a 1.11

  Levantisco, which is the word in the Ori∣ginall, is taken for an Vpstart, a Iew, or an Ea∣sterling, come - from the Levant And, Estar de Levante, is one, that hath no set dwelling. Covarruvias, vocab. Levan∣te. Against Vsurers, and Exchangers of Moneys.
• b 1.12

  The Spanish word, is Rema∣tado. Now Re∣mato, or Trance. is the last bidding for a thing at a Port sale, which when we are come vnto, tran∣sit res à vendi∣tore, ad emp∣torem.
• c 1.13

  Cambio seco, is a myste∣ry among Mer∣chants, to assigne ouer Bils of Ex∣change from An∣twerpe to Be∣zonzon in Lorrain, where there is no Fayre or trade of Mer∣chandize: but Bils are thence remitted to Ge∣noa, onely to gaine time, and day of payment. Guzmans fa∣thers deuotion.
• * 1.14

  Guzmans fa∣ther taken priso∣ner.
• * 1.15

  He turnes Turke. He marries a Moore.
• * 1.16

  Guzmans kin∣dred, what con∣dition they were of.
• * 1.17

  Guzmans fa∣ther flies from Argiers. And in what manner.
• * 1.18

  Once a Knaue, & euer a Knaue.
• * 1.19

  The cunning trickes of certaine Merchants in their Trading.
• a 1.20

  Andar de capa cayda. To go with their Cloake fallen, is a phrase that is vsed of those, who go loosing both their substance, and their credit.
• * 1.21

  How a Iudge & a Scrivano may be bad.
• a 1.22

  The Spanish word 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Elcriva∣no. i. Scriba publicus, •…•…r∣vus publicus, qui acta in lu∣dicio, vel ex∣tra Iudicium, notis vel lite∣ris excipit. Vt constat Lege, nō vaum. 18. §. de adoptioni∣bus. Besides that which is alledged by Don Iuan Vela in his Tract de poenis deli∣ctorum, cap. 24. de Notario falsum com∣mittente.
• * 1.23

  A discourse of a worthy Preacher against Notaries.
• b 1.24

  The Spanish word perlesia, signifieth also Prelacie. As if the way to get preferment, were to rayle vpon Go∣uern•…•…ment.
• * 1.25

  A defence of Scri∣ueners, though a weake one.
• * 1.26

  Aristotles saying.
• * 1.27

  A saying of Cleomenes.
• * 1.28

  Iudges are Gods.
• * 1.29

  A bad Iudge, and his conditions.
• a 1.30

  A Fish that hath many feet wherewith to catch his prey. Deriued from the Greeke word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Multus & 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, pes.
• * 1.31

  The punishment that an ciull Iudge receiueth.
• * 1.32

  What he sho•…•…ld doe, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a suite in Law.
• * 1.33

  A witty saying of a Country fellow.
• * 1.34

  Vox populi non modo est infirma, sed •…•…p∣sa insi•…•…mitas, & morbus.
• * 1.35

  Against painting.
• * 1.36

  Omnium co∣lorum homo.
• * 1.37

  Painting had, both in a soule, & in a faire wo∣man, but worst of all in a man.
• * 1.38

  Dulce est so∣cios habuisse dolorum.
• * 1.39

  Guzmans fa∣ther compounds with his Credi∣tors; growes rich, and takes his pleasure.
• * 1.40

  Guzmans •…•…o∣ther and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 w•…•…man: Her condition.
• * 1.41

  Women loue to be eyed, and to be lookt vpon.
• * 1.42

  A Bawde, and her condition.
• * 1.43

  Money ouercome all difficulties, especially with women.
• * 1.44

  Nouelties please women.
• * 1.45

  A woman, wise in wickednesse, what one she is.
• * 1.46

  Alfarache, a place of recreati∣on neere vnto Seuill: And it's rare pleasures.
• a 1.47

  Guadal∣quibir is a fa∣mous Riuer, which thwarteth all Andaluzia: it empties it selfe into the Sea, neere to San Lucar de Bar∣rameda. It is a great Riuer, whose head rises in the Sierra de Sigura, or Alcaçar, anci∣ently called Ta∣bigensis: from whese spring-head, to the Sea, it runnes more then 60. Leagues; it's ancient name was Betis: from whence that Pro∣uince is called Betica, of Be∣tus the 6. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. of Spaine. Or from the Greeke word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, which signifies Deepe. Some say it is a Ch•…•…ldee word, and signifies a House. For that it is the receptacle whither al other Riuers enter in, as into a house. Some call it Thuria, of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, which signifies, impetu∣ous, proud, &c. Vide Couarru∣uias, and Este∣ban de Garrib. l. 5. c. 4. fol. 128.
• b 1.48

  Xamuga. A womans saddle with a Chaire.
• c 1.49

  A Sardini∣an Asse, of all Asses, is the least. A notable subtilty of Guzmans Mother, for the inioying of his Father, before she came to bee his Wife.
• * 1.50

  The differen•…•…e betwixt the poore end the rich Master.
• * 1.51

  A Colchone, is a kinde of Mat∣tresse, quilted with Wooll, and basted with Thread, that the Wooll may not slide and grow into Knots.
• a 1.52

  The Spanish word Eneami∣sada, signifies a •…•…ratagem; bor∣rowed from the wearing of shirts vpon their Ar∣mour, thereby to surprize the enemy on the sud∣den, and to bee distinguished frō their enemies. It is also a Maske, or Mummery.
• * 1.53

  The difference that is betwixt Loue, Friend∣ship, and Good-will.
• * 1.54

  True Loue, what it is.
• * 1.55

  What lewd Loue is.
• * 1.56

  Loue ought to be free.
• * 1.57

  Guzmans fa∣thers craftie condition.
• * 1.58

  The disposi•…•…on of Guzmans mo∣ther.
• * 1.59

  An old man, •…•…n∣fit for a young woman.
• * 1.60

  The actions of Guzmans mo∣ther.
• * 1.61

  Rich men dye of hunger.
• * 1.62

  Poore men dye with ouer-eating themselues.
• * 1.63

  A remo, ad clauum & gu∣bernaculum Nauis: A Me∣taphor from Gal∣ley-slaues.
• * 1.64

  Guzman had two fathers, by vertue of his mother.
• * 1.65

  a As they say, cl gato es estornudo del •…•…on, as like 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 had beene sp•…•…t out of his m•…•…, or •…•…z 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of •…•…is n•…•…se, f•…•…r his fa•…•…, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉.
• a 1.66

  Agreeing with that phrase which we vse to latle children, when we tell them they were borne in their mothers Parsly-bed.
• b 1.67

  By reason the old Knight held some Church-li∣uing in Com∣mendum.
• * 1.68

  For poore men to keepe places for pleasi•…•…e, is their ruine.
• a 1.69

  Estallido: Is the noise which a thing makes whē it cleaues, or rends in sunder. Metaphoricè. A Bankerout. How Guzmans Mother got her wealth which his father had with her.
• * 1.70

  Ill gotten goods what became of them?
• * 1.71

  The death of Guzmans Father.
• * 1.72

  The property of the wealth of rich men reduced to pouerty.
• a 1.73

  Cid, was the brauest & vali∣antest Souldier in his time, and had conquered fiue Kings of the M•…•…ores, and made them pay tribute. Guzmans li∣nage.
• b 1.74

  In Toledo, they tearme Gi∣garrales, cer∣taine possessions, not fa•…•…e from Toledo, which are little choise garden plots, full of Fountaines, as also Fruit trees, Vines, Oliues, and Figges, with a little house of pleasure to enter∣taine the Owner. But some of your Cigarrales are goodly things of great both value, and recreation; but of as much expence, as profit. Father Guadix sayes, that it is an Arabique word; and signifies as much as a little House. A notable vanity.
• * 1.75

  Seuill, and its condition.
• * 1.76

  Whence Guz∣man de Alfa∣rache •…•…ad his name.
• * 1.77

  The delicacie wherem Guz∣man liued.
• * 1.78

  Guzman de∣parts from Se∣uill to se•…•… the world; and what hapned vnto him the first night.
• * 1.79

  Misfortunes sel∣dome come alone.
• * 1.80

  He that hath not wherewithall to eate, •…•…ath store of sorrowes.
• * 1.81

  The con•…•…it of a Mountanese.
• * 1.82

  What •…•…ses and Common-wealths are ill gouerned.
• * 1.83

  A •…•…le of an ig∣norant Phis•…•….
• * 1.84

  Afflictions are sent vs by God for our good.
• * 1.85

  Troubles sent from God, are Iewels:
• * 1.86

  But drawne on by our selues, are torments vnto vs.
• * 1.87

  The roguery of an Hostesse.
• * 1.88

  He that is truly hungry, will not sticke to eate any thing.
• a 1.89

  Or a Monopoly▪ Aga•…•…st the •…•…l Gouernours and Magistrates of Seuill.
• b 1.90

  The conceit of this passage, co•…•…∣sists in the word Menudos, and its double signifi∣cat•…•…on. For Me∣nudo's are brasse Moneys: they signifie also particular neces∣sities. Menudo is likewise the in∣trailes of a sheep, together with the head and feet: and in birds, the garbage. And these are vsually eaten in Spaine vpon Saturday, but no other part of the carkase. This last significa∣tion sorts best.
• c 1.91

  Bunnuelo, is a certaine round Fritter compos'd of Meale, Oyle, and Hony: and is more vs'd in Spaine, then in any other parts, in Winter time. It is called Bunnu∣elo, quasi Pun∣nuelo, because it is strained or squeazed out of the Fist, and so let fall into the Pan of Oyle.
• d 1.92

  A Maraue∣dis, is a small piece of brasse∣money, 32. of them go to sixe∣pence.
• * 1.93

  The craft of a couetou•…•… Magi∣strate.
• * 1.94

  Rich men are like Whales: for they grow great by the hurt of others.
• a 1.95

  Castanne∣ta, is the stroke or sound, that is giuen with the Thumbe, and the middle finger, when they dance. And to make the noise the lowder, they tye two hol∣low thinne pieces of wood to their thumbe, which are made round after the manner of your Chesse-Nuts. Castan∣neta, beeing de∣riued from Ca∣stanna, which signifies a Chesse-Nut.
• * 1.96

  The description of laughter.
• * 1.97

  Kinde words currant money in case of necessity.
• * 1.98

  A Physician hath three faces.
• * 1.99

  A Tale of a Phy∣sician that lou'd money too well. In Spaine your Physicians fee is ordinarily two shillings; t•…•…e bet∣ter sort giue foure shillings, and the▪ best seldom aboue a •…•…rowne. The nature of Scr•…•…ants.
• * 1.100

  Excessiue laugh∣ter condemned.
• * 1.101

  A iest put vpon an Ho•…•…esse by two young fel∣lowes.
• a 1.102

  Sabalo, is a knowne fish, and a sauoury, and is called Sabalo, quasi Sapalo à Sapore. In La∣tine they call it Alofa, Frista, Clupea. In fresh water it doth vs•…•…ally dye. Rondelecio de Piscibus, lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap. 15.
• b 1.103

  Mondongo, is a •…•…odge-podge made of the in∣trailes and trot∣ters of a sheepe, or other beast, boyled, and sold at euery corner of the streets in Spaine to poore folkes.
• * 1.104

  A discourse tou∣ching the pardo∣ning of m•…•…s.
• * 1.105

  T•…•…ue good is that which is ete•…•…all.
• * 1.106

  The goods of this •…•…orld are not good.
• * 1.107

  A faithful friend, what go•…•…d he may do •…•…s.
• * 1.108

  The good we re∣ceiue from our enemies.
• * 1.109

  Gods cōmande∣ments are sweet.
• a 1.110

  The Spanish word is Escor∣zonera. This •…•…rbe the I a∣•…•…es call Vipe∣rina, a species of that which they call Barba de Cabron. It is called Escor∣zonera, be∣cause it is good against the ve∣nyme of Toades, and all other ve∣nymous Vermin; and amongst the rest, the Viper. This Plant was first found out in Spaine in Ca∣talunna, by a slaue of Barba∣ry. And in har∣uest-time men be∣ing slung by Vi∣pe•…•…s, they gaue them the iuyce of this herbe, wher∣with they were healed. There is excellent good now in this kind, in the Sierras de Cuenca in Spaine. Vide Mathiolo, lib. 2. cap. 137. Et Couarru∣uias, verb. Es∣co•…•…zonera. We must obay God.
• * 1.111

  God rewardeth the obedient.
• * 1.112

  Man ought to be humble, not proud.
• a 1.113

  The Duell, in Spaine is a capitall crime. And therefore the Spaniards, when they 〈◊〉〈◊〉1 the Field, g•…•…e into Barba∣ry to end their quarrell.
• * 1.114

  A lesson for the forgiuing of our enemies.
• * 1.115

  Saint Christo∣pher his •…•…wer to one that 〈◊◊〉〈◊◊〉 him.
• * 1.116

  S. Bernards saying, touching the suffering of i•…•…ies.
• * 1.117

  S. Steuen prayes for his persecutors.
• * 1.118

  S. Paul teacheth vs to forgiue our enemies.
• * 1.119

  S. Iames in∣structeth vs to be mercifull.
• * 1.120

  Constantine the Great, & his great patience.
• * 1.121

  God fauoureth and defendeth the wronged.
• * 1.122

  Injury, how foule a thing it is.
• * 1.123

  Reuenge, what it is.
• * 1.124

  Man hath no∣thing that is his, no 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so much as himselfe.
• * 1.125

  Seneca's saying touching e•…•…nge.
• * 1.126

  The French Kings answere.
• * 1.127

  Fortior, qui se, quàm qui fortissima vin∣cit moenia.
• * 1.128

  A Law in An∣daluzia against the •…•…aturall couering in hor∣ses.
• * 1.129

  These things are commonly eaten in Spaine vpon Saturdayes, by a custome receiued amongst them.
• * 1.130

  Vneasie riding causeth wearines.
• * 1.131

  What a manner of creature our Host was.
• * 1.132

  Old Christians in Spaine are counted the best, by way of diffe∣rence from the Moores, whom they call new Christians, as being but lately co•…•…rted. A 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of a coun∣try fellow.
• b 1.133

  Socarron; el vellaco dis∣simulado, que solo pretende su interes, y quando habla con vos, os està secreta∣mente abra∣sando.
• * 1.134

  The defect which is in Country peo∣ple in their see∣ding.
• * 1.135

  The Hosts craft.
• * 1.136

  A guilty Consci∣ence is •…•…uermore suspicious, and full of feare.
• a 1.137

  Traer la bar∣ba sobre el ombro: Viuir recatado, y con recelo, co∣mo hazen los que tienen e∣nemigos, que van bolviendo el rostro à vn lado, y al otro, de donde na∣çio el refran.
• a 1.138

  Meliteos si dizen, porque se •…•…hian de Malta.
• b 1.139

  A Metaphor borrowea from women, who can∣not ab•…•…ae to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉, how old they are.
• c 1.140

  The Spanish word is Aran∣zel, which is a Decree, or Law, which sets a taxe vpon such things as are solde. Tabula est, vbi scribitur ordo & pretium re∣rum venalium. deriued of a. ar∣ticulo arabico, and rancel, que vale tanto, co∣mo decreto, determinçi∣on, assiento. The Spaniards fashion of won∣dring.
• * 1.141

  Mine Host by railing on the old Hostesse, disco∣uers the k•…•…auery of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 •…•…pers.
• * 1.142

  Guzman is extremely bitten by Fleas.
• * 1.143

  Drinking freely, what it effecteth.
• * 1.144

  Qui saepè iu∣rat, saepè per∣•…•…urat.
• * 1.145

  He that receiues a courtesie, euer ought to shew his readinesse to doe that man seruice from whom it comes.
• * 1.146

  He that hath right, hath cou∣rage.
• * 1.147

  He that is faulty 〈◊〉〈◊〉 coward.
• * 1.148

  He that leaues God, God will leaue him.
• * 1.149

  The Egiptians adoted Fortune as a goddesse.
• a 1.150

  The S•…•…e of a Mule, is an Asse.
• * 1.151

  Mans life, what it is.
• * 1.152

  A morall Fable of the gods of old∣time, and the Councel that was held in heauen against Mankind.
• * 1.153

  Apollo's speech in mans fauour.
• * 1.154

  Momus mans ancient enemy.
• * 1.155

  Mercury, by or∣der from loue, desc•…•…nds on earth, and to what end.
• * 1.156

  True content is in heauen.
• * 1.157

  The strange alte∣rations in this world.
• * 1.158

  Insipientis est di•…•…cte non putatem.
• * 1.159

  Magis caren∣do, quàm fru∣endo, &c.
• * 1.160

  Morall lessons.
• * 1.161

  Guzman ap∣prehended for a Thiefe, and his sufferings.
• * 1.162

  Sergeants and Catch-poles, an vnciuill kind of people.
• * 1.163

  Mans depraued disposition, what effects it worketh.
• * 1.164

  A Prouerbe.
• a 1.165

  The holy In∣quisition is well knowne to the world, what se∣uere courses they take. The seuerest and cruellest Officers that are in all Spaine. What base and vile people, are the Sergeants and Catch-poles.
• b 1.166

  Hermandad, in Castile is a certaine Tribu∣nall, that hath a great Iurisdictiō, and punisheth the fautls comit∣ted in the fields, which hath great prerogatiues and exemptions from the kings of Spaine: And is in that respect amongst them, that it is styled by the name of Santa, or holy.
• c 1.167

  The Cruzada is an Indulgence which the Popes granted to those, that went to con∣quer the Holy-Land, which is now granted to the King of Spaine, by way of Subsidie a∣gainst Infidels and Heretickes, giuing some finall almes towards so pious a worke.
• a 1.168

  Requisitoria is a Iudges War∣rant to another, wherein he re∣quireth him to execute his com∣mand. Guzman, set free.
• b 1.169

  The Spanish word Quarto, is a kind of brasse coyne, whereof foure make 3. pence.
• * 1.170

  Guzmans good fortune what is was.
• a 1.171

  The Clergy∣men in Spaine, when they tra∣uell on the way, haue certaine set prayers to say.
• a 1.172

  Francolino.