The history of the valorous and vvitty-knight-errant, Don-Quixote, of the Mancha tr. out of the Spanish.

CHAP. VI.

Wherein is rehearsed the History of the Curious-Impertinent.

IN Florence, a rich and famous Citie of Italie, in the Province called Tuscane, there dwelled two rich and principall Gentlemen called Anselmo and Lothario, which two were so great friends, as they were named for excellency, and by Antonomasta, by all those that knew them, the Two friends: They were both Batchelers, and much of one age and manners; all which was of force to make them answer one another with reciprocall amity. True it is that Anselmo was somewhat more inclined to amorous dalliance then Lothario, who was altogether addicted to hunting: But when occasion exacted it Anselmo would omit his own pleasures, to satisfie his friends; and Lothario likewise his, to please Anselmo: And by this means both their wills were so correspondent, as no clock could be better ordered then were their desires. Anselmo being at last deeply enamoured of a principall and beautifull young Ladie of the same Citie, called Camila, being so worthily descended, and she her self of such merit therewithall, as he resolved (by the consent of his friend Lothario, without whom he did nothing) to demand her of her Parents for wife; and did put his purpose in execution; and Lo∣thario himself was the messenger, and concluded the matter so to his friends satisfaction, as he was shortly after put in possession of his desires; and Camila so contented to have gotten Anselmo, as she ceased not to render Heaven and Lothario thanks, by whose means she had obtained so great a match. The first dayes, as all marriage dayes are wont to be merry, Lothario frequented, according to the custome, his frind An∣selmo's house, endeavouring to honour, feast, and recreate him all the wayes he might possible: But after the Nuptials were finished, and the concourse of Strangers, Visita∣tions, and Congratulations somewhat ceased, Lothario, also began to be somewhat more slack then he wor••ted in going to Anselmo his house, deeming it (as it is reason that all discreet men should) not so convenient to visit or haunt so often the house of his friend after marriage as he would, had he still remained a Batcheler. For although true amity neither should, nor ought to admit the least suspition: yet notwithstanding a married mans honour is so delicate and tender a thing, as it seems it may be some∣times impaired, even by very Bretheren; and how much more by Friends? Anselmo

noted the remission of Lothario, and did grievously complain thereof, saying; That if he had wist by marriage he should thus be deprived of his deered conversation, hee would never have married; and that since through the uniform correspondencie of them both being free, they had deserved the sweet title of the two friends, that he should not now permit (be••ause he would be noted circumspect without any other occasion) that so famous and pleasing a name should be lost: and therefore he requested him (if it were lawfull to use such a terme between them two) to return and be Master of his house, and come and goe as he had done before his marriage, assuring him that his Spouse Camila had no other pleasure and will, then that which himself pleased shee should have: and that she, after having known how great was both their frindships, was not a little amazed to see him become so strange.

To all these and many other reasons alledged by Anselmo, to perswade Lothario to frequent his house, he answered with so great prudence, discretion and warinesse, as Anselmo remained satisfied of his friends good intention herein: and they made an agreement between them two, that Lothario should dine at his house twice a week, and the Holy-dayes besides: And although this agreement had passed between them, yet Lothario purposed to doe that only which he should finde most expedient for his friends honour, whose reputation he tendered much more deerly then he did his own; and was wont to say very discreetly, that the married man, unto whom heaven had given a beautifull wife, ought to have as much heede of the friends which he brought to his house, as he should of the women friends that visited his wife; for that which is not done nor agreed upon in the Church or Market, nor in publique Feasts or Stations (being places that a man cannot lawfully hinder his wife from frequenting sometimes at least) are oft-times facilitated and contrived in a friends or kins-womans house, whom perhaps we never suspected. Anselmo on the other side affirmed, That therefore married men ought every one of them to have some friend who might ad∣vertise them of the faults escaped in their manner of proceeding; for it befalls many times, that through the great love which the Husband bears to his Wife, either he doth not take notice, or else he doth not advertise her, because he would not offend her to doe or omit to doe certain things, the doing or omitting whereof might turn to his honour or obloquie; to which things, being advertised by his friend, he might easily apply some remedie: But where might a man finde a friend so discreet, loyall and trustie as Anselmo demands? I know not truly, if not Lothario; for he it was that with all sollicitude and care regarded the honour of his friend: and therefore endeavoured to clip and diminish the number of the dayes promised, lest he should give occasion to the idle vulgar, or to the eyes of vagabonds and malicious men to judge any sinister thing, viewing so rich, comely, noble, and qualified a young man as he was, to have so free accesse into the house of a woman so beautifull as Camila. For though his virtues and modest carriage were sufficiently able to set a bridle to any malignant tongue, yet notwithstanding he would not have his credit, nor that of his friends called into any question; and therefore would spend most of the dayes that he had agreed to visit his friend, in other places and exercises; yet feigning excuses so plausible, as his friend admitted them for very reasonable. And thus the time passed on in challenges of un∣kindnesse of the one side, and lawfull excuses of the other.

It so fell out, that as both the friends walked on a day together in a field without the Citie, Anselmo said to Lothario these words ensuing, I know very well, friend Lothario, that among all the favours which God of his bountie hath bestowed upon me by making me the Sonne of such Parents, and giving to me with so liberall a hand, both the goods of Nature and Fortune: yet as I cannot answer him with sufficient grati∣tude for the benefits already received, so doe I finde my self most highly bound unto him above all others, for having given me such a friend as thou art, and so beautifull a wife as Camila, being both of you such pawns, as if I esteem you not in the degree which I ought, yet doe I hold you as deer as I may: And yet possessing all those things which are wont to be the all and sum that are wont and may make a man happie, I live notwithstanding the most sullen and discontented life of the World; being troubled, I

know not since when, and inwardly wrested with so strange a desire, and extravagant from the common use of others, as I marvell at my self, and doe condemn and rebuke my self when I am alone, and doe labour to conceale and cover mine own desires; all which hath served me to as little effect, as if I had proclaimed mine own errours purposely to the World: And seeing that it must finally break out, my will is, that it be only communicated to the treasury of thy secret; hoping by it and mine own industry, which (as my true friend) thou wilt use to help me, I shall bee quickly freed from the anguish it causeth, and by thy means my joy and contentment shall arive to the passe that my discontents have brought me through mine own folly.

Lothario stood suspended at Anselmo's Speech, as one that could not imagine to what so prolixe a prevention and preamble tended: And although he revolved and imagined sundry things in his minde which he deemed might afflict his friend, yet did hee ever shoot wide from the mark which in truth it was: and that he might quickly escape that agonie, wherein the suspention held him, he said, That his friend did notable injurie to their amity, in searching out wreathings and ambages in the discovery of his most hidden thoughts to him, seeing bee might assure himself certainly, either to receive counsells of him how to entertain, or else remedy and means how to accomplish them.

It is very true answered Anselmo, and with that confidence I let thee to understand, friend Lothario, That the desire which vexeth me, is a longing, to know whether my wife Camila be as good and perfect as I doe account her; and I cannot wholy rest satisfied of this truth, but by making tryall of her, in such sort, as it may give manifest argument of the degree of her goodnesse, as the fire doth shew the value of gold: For I am of opinion (O friend) that a woman is of no more worth or virtue, then that which is in her, after shee hath been solicited [Casta est quam nemo rogavit:] and that she alone is strong who cannot be bowed by the Promises, Gifts, Tears, and continuall importunities of importunate Lovers: For what thanks is it (quoth he) for a woman to be good, if no body say or teach her ill? What wonder that she be retired and ti∣morous, if no occasion be ministred to her of dissolution, and chiefly she that knows she hath a husband ready to kill her for the least argument of lightnesse? So that she which is only good for fear or want of occasion, will I never hold in that estimation, that I would the other sollicited and pursued, who notwithstanding comes away crowned with the victory: And therefore being moved as well by these reasons as by many other which I could tell you, which accredit and fortifie mine opinion, I desire that my wife Camila doe also passe thorow the pikes of those proofs and difficulties, and purifie and refine her self in the fire of being requested, sollicited and pursued; and that by one whose worths and valour may deserve acceptance in her opinion: and if she bear away the Palme of the victory, as I believe shee will, I shall account my fortune matchlesse, and may brag that my desires are in their height; and will say that a strong woman hath faln to my lot, of whom the Wise man faith, who shall finde her? And when it shall succeed contrary to mine expection, I shall, with the pleasure that I will conceive to see how rightly it jumps with mine opinion, bear very indifferent the grief which in all reason this so costly a tryall must stir in me: And presupposing that nothing which thou shalt say to me shall be available to hinder my designe, or disswade me from putting my purpose in execution; I would have thy selfe, deer friend Lothario, to provide thee to be the instrument that shall labour this worke of my liking, and I will give thee oportunitie enough to performe the same, without omitting any thing that may further thee in the sollicitation of an Honest, Noble, Warie, Retired and Passionlesse woman.

And I am chiefly moved to commit this so hard an enterprize to thy trust; because I know that if Camila be vanquished by thee, yet shall not the victory arive to the last push and upshot, but only to that of accounting a thing to bee done, which shall not bee done for many good respects. So shall I remain nothing offended, and mine in∣jury concealed in the virtue of thy silence; for I know thy care to be such in matters concerning me, as it shall bee eternall, like that of death. And therefore if thou desirest

that I may lead a life deserving that name, thou must forthwith provide thy selfe to en∣ter into this amorous conflict, and that not languishing or slothfully, but with that cou∣rage and diligence which my desire expecteth, and the confidence I have in our amitie assureth mee.

These were the reasons used by Anselmo to Lothario, to all which hee was so atten∣tive, as untill hee ended, hee did not once unfold his lips to speake a word save those which wee have above related, and seeing that hee spoke no more; after hee had beheld him a good while, as a thing that hee had never before, and did therefore strike him in∣to admiration and amazement hee said, Friend Anselmo, I cannot perswade my selfe, that the words you have spoken be other then jests, for had I thought that thou wert in earnest, I would not have suffered thee to passe on so far, and by lending thee no eare would have excused this tedious Oration. I doe verily imagine that either thou dost not know mee, or I thee: but not so, for I know thee to bee Anselmo; and thou that I am Lothario; the dammage is, that I thinke thou art not the Anselma thou wast wont to bee, and perhaps thou deemest mee not to bee the accustomed Lothario that I ought to bee; for the things which thou hast spoken, are not of that Anselmo my friend, nor those which thou seekest ought to bee demanded of that Lothario, of whom thou hast notice; for true friends ought to prove and use their friends, as the Poet said, Vsque ad Aras, that is, that they should in no sort imploy them or implore their assistance in things offensive unto God, and if a Gentile was of this opinion in matters of friendship how much greater reason is it that a Christian should have that feeling, specially know∣ing that the celestiall amitie is not to bee lost for any humane friendship whatsoever. And when the friend should throw the bars so wide, as to set heavenly respects apart, for to complement with his friend, it must not bee done on light grounds, or for things of small moment, but rather for those whereon his friends life and honour wholy depends. Then tell mee now Anselmo, in which of these two things art thou in danger, that I may adventure my Person to doe thee a pleasure, and attempt so dete••lable a thing as thou doest demand? None of them truly, but rather doest demand, as I may conje∣cture, that I doe industriously labour to deprive thee of thine honour and life together, and in doing so, I likewise deprive my selfe of them both. For if I must labour to take away thy credit, it is most evident that I dispoyle thee of life, for a man without repu∣tation, is worse then a dead man, and I being the instrument (as thou desirest that I should be) of so great harme unto thee, doe not I become, likewise thereby dishonou∣red, and by the same consequence also without life? Heare mee friend Anselmo, and have patience not to answere mee untill I have said all that I think, concerning that which thy mind exacteth of thee; for we shall have after leisure enough, wherein thou maist reply, and I have patience to listen unto thy reasons.

I am pleased quoth Anselmo, say what thou likest. And Lothario prosecuted his speech in this manner; Mee thinks Anselmo, that thou art now of the Moores humors, which can by no meanes bee made to understand the error of their sect; neither by Ci∣tations of the holy Scripture, nor by reasons which consist in speculations of the under∣standing, or that are founded in the Articles of the Faith, but must bee won by palpa∣ble examples, and those easie, intelligible, demonstrative and doubtlesse; by Mathema∣ticall demonstrations, which cannot bee denied. Even as when wee say, If from two e∣quall parts wee take away two parts equall, the parts that remaine are also equall. And when they cannot understand this, as in truth they doe not, wee must demonstrate it to them with our hands, and lay it before their eyes, and yet for all this nought can a∣vaile to win them in the end to give credit to the verities of our Religion, which very termes and manner of proceeding I must use with thee, by reason that the desire which is sprung in thee, doth so wander and stray from all that which beares the shadow only of Reason, as I doubt much that I shall spend my time in vaine which I shall bestow to make thee understand thine owne simplicitie, for I will give it no other name at this pre∣sent, and in good earnest I was almost perswaded to leave thee in thine humor, in pu∣nishment of thine inordinate and unreasonable desire, but that the love which I beare towards thee doth not consent, I use to thee such rigour, or leave thee in so manifest a

danger of thine owne perdition. And that tho•• maist cleerely see it, tell mee Anselmo; hast not thou said unto mee that I must sollicite one that stands upon her reputation, perswade an honest woman, make proffers to one that is not passionate or engaged, and serve a discreete woman? Yes, thou hast said all this. Well then, if thou knowest al∣ready that thou hast a retyred, honest, unpassionate and prudent wife, what seekest thou more? And if thou thinkest that shee will rest victorious after all mine assaults, as doubtlesse she will, what better titles wouldest thou after bestow upon her then those shee possesseth already? Either it proceedes because thou dost not thinke of her as thou sayest, or else because thou knowest not what thou demandest. If thou dost not account her such as thou praysest her; to what end wouldest thou prove her? But ra∣ther as an evill person use her as thou likest best; but if shee bee as good as thou belee∣vest, it were an impertinent thing to make tryall of truth it selfe: For after it is made, yet it will still rest only with the same reputation it had before. Wherefore it is a con∣cluding reason; that to attempt things, whence rather harm may after result unto us then good, is the part of rash and discoursless braines, and principally when they deale with those things whereunto they are not compelled or driven, and that they see even a far off, how the attempting the like is manifest folly. Difficult things are undertaken for God, or the world, or both. Those that are done for God, are the workes of the Saints, en∣devoring to leade Angels lives in fraile and mortall bodies. Those of the World, are the travells and toyles of such as cross such immense seas, travell through so adverse Re∣gions, and converse with so many Nations, to acquire that which wee call the goods of Fortune. And the things acted for God and the world together, are the worthy ex∣ploits of resolute and valorous Martiall men, which scarce perceive so great a breach in the adversatie wall, as the common bullet is wont to make, when leaving all fear apart, without making any discourse, or taking notice of the manifest danger that threatens them, born away by the wings of desire and honour to serve God, their Nation and Prince, doe throw themselves boldly into the throat of a thousand menacing deaths which expect them.

These are things wont to bee practised, and it is honour, glory and profit to attempt them, bee they never so full of inconveniences and danger; but that which thou sayest thou wilt trie and put in practise, shall never gaine thee Gods glorie, the goods of for∣tune, or renoune among men; for suppose that thou bringest it to passe according to thine owne fantasie, thou shalt remaine nothing more contented, rich, or honourable then thou art already; and if thou dost not, then shalt thou see thy selfe in the greatest misery of any wretch living: for it will little availe thee then, to thinke that no man knowes the disgrace befaln thee, it being sufficient both to afflict and dissolve thee that thou knowest it thy self; and for greater confirmation of this truth, I will repeat unto thee a stanza of the famous Poet Lud••vice Tansil•• in the end of his first part of saint Pe∣ters teares, which is:

THE griefe increaseth, and withall the shame, In Peter when the day it self did show: And though hee no man sees, yet doth hee blame Himself, because hee had offended so, For brests, magnanimous not onely, tam•• When (that of others they are se••••e) they know: But of themselves asham'd they often bee, Though none but Heav'n and Earth their error see.

So that thou canst not excuse thy griefe with secrecie, bee it never so great, but rather shalt have continuall occasion to weepe, if not watry teares from thine eyes, at least teares of blood from thy heart, such as that simple Doctor wept, of whom our Poet makes mention, who made tryall of the Vessell, which the prudent Reynaldos upon ma∣turer discourse refused to deale withall: and although it bee but a Poeticall fixion, yet

doth it containe many hidden morals worthy to bee noted, understood and imitated: how much more, seeing that by what I mean to say now, I hope thou shalt begin to conceive the great error which thou wouldest wittingly commit.

Tell me, Anselmo, if Heaven or thy Fortunes had made thee Lord and lawfull possessor of a most precious Diamond, of whose goodnesse and qualitie all the Lapi∣daries that had viewed the same would rest satisfied, and that all of them would joyntly and uniformly affirm that it arived in quality, goodnesse and finenesse to all that, to which the nature of such a stone might extend it self; and that thou thy self didest believe the same without witting any thing to the contrarie; would it be just that thou shouldest take an humour to set that Diamond between an Anvile and a hammar and to trie there by very force of blows whether it be so hard & so fine as they say? And farther; when thou didest put thy designe in execution, put the case that the stone made resistance to thy foolish tryall, yet wouldest thou add thereby no new valour or esteem to it: And if it did break, as it might befall; were not then all lost? Yes cer∣tainly, and that leaving the Owner, in all mens opinion, for a very poor ignorant person. Then friend Anselmo, make account that Camila is a most precious Diamond as well in thine as in other mens estimation; and it is no reason to put her in contin∣gent danger of breaking, seeing that although shee remain in her integrity, she cannot mount to more worth then she hath at the present; and if she faltred, or did not re∣sist, consider even at this present, what state you would bee in then and how justly thou mightest then complain of thy self, for being cause of her perdition and thine own. See how there is no Jewell in the world comparable to the modest and chaste Woman; and that all Womens honour consists in the good opinion that's had of them: and seeing that of thy Spouse is so great, as it arrives to that sum of perfection which thou knowest; why wouldest thou call this verity in question? Know, friend, that a Woman is an imperfect Creature, and should therefore have nothing cast in her way to make her stumble & fall, but rather to cleer & doe all incumbrances away out of it, to the end shee may without impeachment run with a swift course to obtain the perfection shee wants, which only consists in being virtuous.

The Naturalists recount, that the Ermine is a little Beast that hath a most white skin; and that when the hunters would chase him, they use this art to take him: As soon as they finde out his haunt, and places where he hath recourse, they thwart them with mire and dirt, and after when they discrie the little Beast, they pursue him towards those places which are defiled; and the Ermine espying the mire, stands still, and per∣mits himself to be taken and captived in exchange of not passing thorow the mire, or staining of his whitenesse, which it esteems more then either liberty or life. The honest and chaste Woman is an Ermine, and the virtue of chastity is whiter and purer then Snow; and he that would not lose it, but rather desires to keep and preserve it, must proceed with a different stile from that of the Ermine: For they must not propose and lay before her the mire of the passions, flatteries and services of importunate Lovers; for perhaps she shall not have the naturall impulse and force which commonly through proper debility is wont to stumble, to passe over those incumbrances safely: and therefore it is requisite to free the passage and take them away, and lay before her the cleernesse of virtue, and the beauty comprized in good fame. The good woman is also like unto a bright and cleer mirrour of Crystall; and therefore is subject to bee stained and dimmed by every breath that toucheth it. The honest woman is to bee used as reliques of Saints, to wit, shee must be honoured but not touched. The good wo∣man is to be kept and prized like a fair Garden full of sweet Flowers and Roses, that is held in estimation, whose owner permits no man to enter and trample or touch his Flowers, but holds it to bee sufficient, that they standing a far off, without the rails, may joy at the delightfull sight and fragrancie thereof. Finally I will repeat certain Verses unto thee that have now come to my memorie, the which were repeated of late in a new Play, and seem to me very fit for the purpose of which wee treat. A prudent old man did give a neighbour of his that had a daughter counsell to keep and shut her up; and among many other reasons he used these.

TRuely Woman is of Glasse; Therefore no man ought to trie, If she broke or not might be, Seeing all might come to passe. Yet to break her 'tis more easie; And it is no wit to venter A thing of so brittle temper, That to Soulder is so queafie. And I would have all men dwell In this truth and reasons ground, That if Danaes may bee found, Golden showres are found as well.

All that which I have said to thee, Anselmo, untill this instant, hath been for that which may touch thy self: and it is now high time that somewhat bee heard concerning me: And if by chance I shall be somewhat prolixe, I pray thee to pardon me; for the Labyrinth wherein thou hast entred, and out of which thou wouldest have me to free thee, requires no lesse. Thou holdest me to bee thy friend, and yet goest about to dispoile me of mine honour, being a thing contrary to all amitie; and doest not only pretend this, but doest likewise indeavour that I should rob thee of the same, that thou wouldest deprive me of mine is evident; for when Camila shall perceive that I sollicite her as thou demandest, it is certain that shee will esteem of me as of one quite devoid of wit, and indiscreet, seeing I intend and doe a thing so repugnant to that, which the being that him I am and thine amitie doe binde me unto; that thou wouldest have me rob thee thereof is as manifest; for Camila seeing me thus to court her, must ima∣gine that I have noted some lightnesse in her which ••ent me boldnesse thus to discover unto her my depraved desires, and she holding her self to bee thereby injured and dishonoured, her disgrace must also concern thee as a principall part of her. And hence springs that which is commonly said, That the Husband of the Adulterous Wife, al∣though hee know nothing of her lewdnesse, nor hath given any occasion to her to doe what shee ought not, nor was able any way to hinder by dilligence, care, or other means, his disgrace, yet is intituled with a vituperious and vile name, and is in a manner beheld by those that know his Wifes mallice with the eyes of contempt; whereas they should indeed regard him rather with those of compassion, seeing that he falls into that misfortune not so much through his own default, as through the light fantasie of his wicked Consort. But I will shew thee the reason why a bad Womans Husband is justly dishonoured and contemned, although hee bee ignorant and guiltlesse thereof, and cannot prevent, nor hath given to it any occasion: And bee not grieved to heare mee, seeing the benefit of the discourse shall redound unto thy selfe.

When God created our first Parent in the terrestriall Paradise, the holy Scripture saith, That God infused sleep into Adam, and that being asleep, hee took out a rib out of his left side, of which he formed our Mother Eve; and as soon as Adam awaked and beheld her, hee said, This is flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bones: And God said, For this cause shall a man leave his Father and his Mother, and they shall bee two in one flesh: And then was the Divine Ordinance of Matrimonie first instituted, with such indissoluble knots, as only may bee by death dissolved: And this marvellous Or∣dinance is of such efficacie and force, as it makes two different persons to bee one very flesh; and yet operates farther in good married folk; For although they have two Souls, yet it makes them to have but one Will. And hence it proceeds, that by reason the Wifes flesh is one and the very same with her Husbands, the blemishes or defects that taint it; doe also redound into the Husbands, although hee (as wee have said) have ministred no occasion to receive that dammage. For as all the whol body feels any paine of the foot, head, or any other member, because it is all one flesh, & the head smarts at the grief of the Ankle, although it hath not caused it: So is the Husband participant of

his Wifes dishonour, because he is one and the self-same with her. And by reason that all the Honours and Dishonours of the world are, and spring from Flesh and Blood; and those of the bad woman be of this kinde, it is forcible, that part of them fall to the Husbands share, and that hee bee accounted dishonourable, although he wholly bee ignorant of it. See then, Anselmo, to what perill thou doest thrust they self by seeking to disturb the quietnesse and repose wherein thy Wife lives, and for how vain and im∣pertinent curiositie thou wouldest stir up the humours which are now quiet in thy chaste Spouses brest; note how the things thou doest adventure to gain are of small moment; but that which thou shalt lose so great, that I must leave it in his poynt, having no words sufficiently able to indeer it. But if all that I have said bee not able to move thee from thy bad purpose; thou mayest well seek out for some other in∣strument of thy dishonour and mis-haps; for I mean not to be one, although I should therefore lose thine amitie, which is the greatest losse that might any way befall mee.

Here the prudent Lothario held his peace, and Anselmo remayned so confounded and Melancholy, as hee could not answere a word to him for a very great while. But in the end hee said; I have listned friend Lothario, to all that which thou hast said unto mee, with the attention which thou hast noted, and have perceived in thy reasons, examples, and similitudes, the great discretion wherewithall thou art endowed, and the perfecti∣on of amitie that thou hast attained; and doe also confesse and see, that if I follow not thine advice, but should leane unto mine owne, I doe but shun the good, and pursue the evill. Yet oughtest thou likewise to consider, how herein I suffer the disease which some women are wont to have, that long to eate earth, lime, coles, and other far worse and lothsome things even to the very sight, and much more to the taste: So that it is behoovefull to use some art by which I may bee cured, and this might bee easily done by beginning only to sollic••te Camila although you did it but weake and feignedly; for I know shee will not bee so soft and pliable, as to dash her honestie about the ground, at the first encounters, and I will rest satisfied with this commencement alone: and thou shalt herein accomplish the obligation thou owest to our friendship, by not only resto∣ring mee to life, but also by perswading me not to dispoyle my selfe of mine honour. And thou art bound to doe this, for one reason that I shall alledge, to wit, that I being resolved, as indeed I am, to make this experience, thou oughtest not to permit, being my friend, that I should bewray my defect herein to a stranger, whereby I might very much endanger my reputation, which thou labourest so much to preserve, and though thy credit may lose some degrees in Camilaes opinion, whil'st thou dost sollicite her, it matters not very much, or rather nothing; for very shortly, when we shall espie in her the integritie that wee expect, thou maist open unto her sinceerly the drift of our pra∣ctise, by which thou shalt againe recover thine impayred reputation. Therefore seeing the Adventure is little, & the pleasure thou shalt doe me by the enterprizing thereof so, too great, I pray thee doe it, though ever so many incumbrances represent themselves to thee, for (as I have promised) with only thy begining, I will rest satisfied and account the cause concluded.

Lothario perceiving the firme resolution of Anselmo, and nothing else occurring for∣cibly disswasive, nor knowing what other reasons to use that might hinder this his pre∣cipitate resolution; and nothing withall, how hee threatned to breake the matter of this his indiscreete desires to a stranger; hee determined to avoide greater inconveniences, to give him satisfaction, and performe his demand, with purpose and resolution to guide the matter so discreetly, as without troubling Camilaes thoughts, Anselmo should rest contented, and therefore intreated him not to open his minde to any other, for he himselfe would undertake that enterprize, and begin it whensoever hee pleased. Ansel∣mo imbraced him very tender and lovingly, and gratified him as much for that promise, as if hee had done him some very great favour, and there they accorded betweene them, that hee should begin the work the very next day ensuing; for hee would give him place and leisure to speake alone with Camila, and would likewise provide him of Money, Jewels, and other things to present unto her. Hee did also admonish him to bring mu∣sick

under her windowes by night, and write verses in her prayse, and if hee would not take the paines to make them, hee himselfe would compose them for him. Lothario pro∣mised to performe all himselfe, yet with an intention far wide from Anselmoes; and with this agreement they returned to Anselmoes house, where they found Camila som∣what sad and carefull, expecting her husbands returne, who had stayed longer abroad that day then his custome. Lothario leaving him at his house returned to his owne, as pensive as hee had left Anselmo contented, and knew not what plot to lay, to issue out of that impertinent affaire with prosperous successe: But that night hee bethought himselfe of a manner how to deceive Anselmo without offending Camila; and so the next day ensuing hee came to his friends house to dinner, where Camila knowing the great good will her husband bore towards him, did receive and entertayne him very kindly with the like; dinner being ended, and the table taken up, Anselmo requested Lothario to keepe Camila companie untill his returne, for hee must needs goe about an affaire that concerned him greatly, but would returne againe within an houre and an halfe. Camila intreated her husband to stay, and Lothario proffered to goe and keepe him company, but nothing could prevaile with Anselmo, but rather hee impor∣tuned his friend Lothario to remayne and abide there till his returne, because hee must goe to treat of a matter of much consequence. Hee also commanded Camila not to leave Lothario alone untill hee came backe. And so hee departed, leaving Camila and Lothario together at the Table, by reason that all the attendants and servants were gone to dinner.

Here Lothario saw that hee was entred into the Lists which his friend so much desired, with his Adversary before him, who was with her beautie able to overcome a whole squadron of armed Knights; see then if Lothario had not reason to feare himselfe? but that which hee did at the first onset, was to lay his elbow on the arme of his chair and his hand on his cheek, and desiring Camila to bear with his respectlesnesse therein, he said he would repose a little whilest he attended Anselmo's comming. Camila an∣swered that shee thought hee might take his ease better on the Cushions of State; and therefore prayed him hee would enter into the Parlour and lie on them: But hee ex∣cused himself, and so remained asleep in the same place, untill Anselmo's return, who comming in, and finding his Wife in her Chamber and Lothario asleep, made full ac∣count, that by reason of his long stay, they had time enough both to talk and repose; and therefore expected very greedily the houre wherein his friend should awake, to goe out with him and learn what successe he had. All succeeded as hee wished; for Lothario arose, and both of them went abroad; and then he demanded of him, what hee desired: And Lothario answered that it seemed not to him so good to discover all his meaning at the first; and therefore had done no other thing at that time, then speak a little of her Beauty and Discretion; for it seemed to him that this was the best pre∣amble hee could use to gain by little and little some interest and possession in her ac∣ceptance, to dispose her thereby the better to give eare again to his words more wil∣lingly, imitating therein the Divells craft when hee means to deceive any one that is vigilant and carefull; for then he translates himself into an Angell of light, being one of darknesse, and laying before him apparent good, discovers what hee is in the end, and brings his intention to passe, if his guiles bee not at the beginning detected. All this did greatly like Anselmo, who said that hee would afford him every day as much lei∣sure, although he did not goe abroad; for hee would spend the time so at home as Camila should never bee able to suspect his drift.

It therefore befell that many dayes passed which Lothario did willingly overslip, and said nothing to Camila; yet did hee ever sooth Anselmo, and told him, that he had spoken to her, but could never win her to give the least argument of flexibilitie, or make way for the feeblest hope that might bee; but rather affirmed that shee threatned him, that if hee did not repell his impertinent desires, shee would detect his indirect proceedings to her husband. It is well, quoth Anselmo: Hitherto Camila hath re∣sisted words; it is therefore requisite to trie what resistance shee will make against works: I will give thee to morrow four thousand Crowns in gold, to the end thou

mayest offer, and also bestow them on her; and thou shalt have as many more to buy Jewells wherewithall to bait her; for Women are naturally inclined, and specially if they bee fair (bee they ever so chaste) to goe brave and gorgeously attired; and if shee can overcome this temptation, I will remain pleased, and put thee to no more trouble. Lothario answered, That seeing hee had begun, hee would bear his enterprize on to an end, although hee made full account that hee should depart from the conflict both tyred and vanquished. Hee received the four thousand crowns the next day, and at once with them four thousand perplexities, for hee knew not what to invent to lie anew; but concluded finally to tell his friend, how Camila was as inflexible at Gifts and Promises as at words; and therefore it would bee in vaine to tra∣vile any more in her pursuit, seeing hee should doe nothing else but spend the time in vain.

But Forturne, which guided these affairs in another manner, so disposed, that An∣selmo having left Lothario and Camila alone, as hee was wont, entred secretly into a chamber, and thorow the cranies and chinks did listen and see what they would doe; where hee perceived that Lothario, in the space of half an hour, spoke not a word to Camila, not yet would hee have spoken, though hee had remained there a whole age; and thereupon surmised straight that all that which his friend had told him of Camila's answers and his own speech, were but fictions and untruths; and that hee might the more confirm himself and see whether it were so, hee came forth, and calling Lothario apart, hee demanded of him what Camila had said, and in what humour shee was at the present? Lothario answered, That hee meant not ever any more to found her in that matter; for shee replyed unto him so untowardly and sharply, as hee durst not attempt any more to speak unto her of such things.

Oh, quoth Anselmo, Lothario, Lothario! how evill doest thou answer to the affe∣ction thou owest me, or to the confidence I did repose in thee? I have stood beholding thee all this while thorow the hole of that lock, and saw how thou never spokest one word to her: Whereby I doe also collect, that thou hast not yet once accosted her; and if it bee so, as doubtlesly it is, say, why doest thou deceive me? or why goest thou about fraudulently to deprive me of those means whereby I may obtain my desires? Anselmo said no more, yet what he said was sufficient to make Lothario confused and ashamed, who taking it to bee a blemish to his reputation to bee found in a lye, swore to Anselmo, That hee would from thence forward so indeavour to please his minde and tell him no more leasings, as hee himself might perceive the successe thereof, if hee did again curiously lye in watch for him; a thing which hee might well excuse, because him most serious labour to satisfie his desire should remove all shadow of suspi∣cion. Anselmo believed him, and that hee might give him the greater commoditie, and lesse occasion of fear, hee resolved to absent himself from his house some eight dayes, and goe to visit a friend of his that dwelled in a Village not far from the Cittie; and therefore dealt with his friend that hee should send a Messenger to call for him very earnestly, that under that pretext, hee might finde an excuse to Camila for his departure.

O infortunate and inconsiderate Anselmo! what is that which thou doest? what doest thou contrive? or what is that thou goest about? behold, thou workest thine own ruine, laying plots of thine own dishonour, and giving order to thy proper per∣dition. Thy wife Camila is good; thou doest possesse her in quiet and peaceable man∣ner; no man surpriseth thy delights; her thoughts transgresse not the limits of her house: Thou art her Heaven on earth, and the goale to which her desires aspire: Thou art the accomplishment and summe of her delectation: Thou art the Square by which shee measureth and directeth her will, adjusting wholy with thine and with that of Heaven. Since then the Mines of her Honour, Beautie, Modestie and Recollection, bountifully afford thee, without any toyle, all the treasures contained in them, or thou canst desire, why wouldest thou dig the earth and seek out new vains and new seen treasures, exposing thy self to the danger, that thy labours may turn to wrack, seeing in fine, that they are only susteined by the weak supporters of her fraile nature?

Remember how he that seeks the impossible, may justly be refused of that which is pos∣sible, according to that which the Poet saith:

IN Death for Life I seeke, Health in infirmitie: For issue in a Dung••on deep: In Iayles for Libertie, And in a Treachour Loyalty.

But envious-Fate, which still Conspires to worke mine ill, With Heav'n hath thus decreed, That easie things should be to mee deni'd, ••Cause I crave th'impossible.

Anselmo departed the next day following to the Village, telling Camila at his depar∣ture, that whil'st hee were absent, his friend Lothario would come and see to the affaires of his house, and to eate with her, and desired her therefore to make as much of him as shee would doe of his owne person. Camila, like a discreet and modest woman, was grieved at the order her husband did give to her, and requested him to render how indecent it was that any one should possesse the chayre of his Table, hee being absent, and if hee did it as doubting her sufficiency to manage his houshould affaires, that at least hee should make tryall of her that one time, and should cleerly perceive how shee was able to discharge matters of far greater consequence. Anselmo replyed, that what hee commanded was his pleasure, and therefore shee had nothing else to doe but hold downe her head and obey it. Camila answered that shee would doe so, although it were very much against her will. In fine her husband departed, and Lothario came the next day following to the house, where hee was entertayned by Camila very friendly, but would never treate with Lothario alone, but evermore was compassed by her ser∣vants and waiting Maidens, but chiefly by one called Leonela, whom shee loved deerly, as one that had been brought up with her in her fathers house, even from their in∣fancie, and when shee did marry Anselmo, shee brought her from thence in her com∣pany.

The first three dayes Lothario spoke not a word, although hee might, when the Ta∣bles were taken up, and that the folke of the house went hastily to dinner, for so Cami∣la had commanded, and did give Leonela order besides to dine before her selfe, and that shee should still keepe by her side; but the gyrle which had her fancie otherwise imploy∣ed in things more pleasing her humor, and needed those houres and times for the accom∣plishing of them, did not alwaies accomplish so punctually her Ladies command, but now and then would leave her alone, as if that were her Ladies behest. But the honest presence of Camila, the gravitie of her face, and the modestie of her carriage was such, that it served as a bridle to restraine Lotharioes tongue. But the benefit of Camilaes many virtues, seting silence to Lotharioes speech, resulted afterward to both their harmes; for though the tongue spoke not, yet did his thoughts discourse, and had lei∣sure afforded them to contemplate part by part, all the extremes of worth and beautie that were cumulated in Camila, potent to enflame a statue of frozen Marble, how much more a heart of flesh. Lothario did only behold her in the time and space hee should speake unto her, and did then consider how worthy shee was to be loved, And this consideration did by little and little give assaults to the respects which hee ought to have borne towards his friend Anselmo; a thousand times did hee determine to absent himselfe from the Citie, and goe where Anselmo should never see him, nor hee Camila; but the delight hee tooke in beholding her, did again withhold and hinder his resolutions. When hee was alone, hee would condemn himselfe of his madd designe, and term him∣selfe a bad friend and worse Christian, hee made discourses and comparisons betweene himselfe and Anselmo, all which did finish in this point that Anselmoes foole-hardinesse,

an•• madnesse was greater, then his owne infidelitie, and that if hee might bee as asily excused before God, for that hee meant to doe, as hee would bee be∣for men, hee needed not to fear any punishment should bee inflicted on him forthe crime. Finally Camilaes beautie and worths, assisted by the occasion whih the ignorant Husband had thrust into his fists, did wholy runine and overthrow Lot••ario his loyaltie; and therefore without regarding any other thing then that to whih his pleasure conducted him, about a three dayes after Anselmo's departure (w••••ch time hee had spent in a continuall battell and resistance of his contending tho••ghts) he began to sollicite Camila with such trouble of the Spirits and so amorous wo••ds, as shee was strucken almost beside her self with wonder, and made him no other ansver, but arising from the Table, flung away in a furie into her chamber. But yet for ill this drynesse, Lothario his hope (which is wont evermore to bee borne at once wi•• Love) was nothing dismayed, but rather accounted the more of Camila, who per••eiving that in Lothario which shee never durst before to imagine, knew not what she•• might doe; but it seeming unto her to bee a thing neither secure nor honest, to giv•• him occasion or leisure to speak unto him again, determined to send one unto her Husband Anselmo the very same night, as indeed shee did, with a Letter to recall him home to her house: The subject of her Letter was this.