The fortunate fool written in Spanish by Don Alonso Geronimo de Salas Barbadillo of Madrid ; translated into English by Philip Ayres.

THE FORTUNATE FOOL.

CHAP. I. Of the Visit which Don Leo∣nardo and the Licenciate made to the Doctor Ce∣ñudo.

TO the Mothers of the whole Race of Fools, Greeting; and your Attention, I be seech you; if I may with∣out vanity bespeak so great and so illustrious an Audience. Bless your selves in your Issue; a Gene∣ration

of People satisfied in them∣selves (for such is the fruit of Ig∣norance) and whose posterity shall give honour to their progenitors. Suffer your selves to be undecei∣ved, for you will find that in all Ages, he that enricheth, he that honoureth, he that raiseth a Fa∣mily, is a foolish Son; for Fortune befriendeth his Imperfections, and flattereth his Miscarriages, to make boast of her force in the most un∣worthy. And certainly you can∣not be doubtful of this Truth your selves, that have so much multiplyed the number of the Ig∣norant. But we shall rather second our opinion (then argue it) with a true History that succeeded in our times, and therefore of the better relish.

I say then, That in our Age there was a certain Coxcomb, though not much unlike a Philoso∣pher,

being so addicted to Books, that he rather seemed to be a part than an Owner of them. He happened sometimes to keep com∣pany with a Parasite, the Son of an Inhabitant of Madrid, his name Don Leonardo de Vargas; and with an arrogant Andaluzer, a * 1.1 Pretendient in the Court, called the Licenciate Campuzano; one that carryed a whole Lucifer in his head, and smoaked his Face with Brimstone to make himself look pale; he let his Beard grow, af∣fected severity, seldom laughed, contracted his Brows, and nodding now and then his Head, and saying, 'Tis well; He says somewhat; he passed for one of the wisest men in the World.

Their greatest resort was to Booksellers shops, particularly to one over against San Felipe, where at that time used to meet a great

number of Virtuosi. Here then, one Afternoon, in Christmass Holy∣daies, met the two Friends Para∣site and Arrogant; who after they had entertained their Eyes with the Beauties that passed the Calle Mayor (or High Street) in their several Coaches; they took up a discourse to entertain their tongues. Don Leonardo remembring to ask the Licenciate for the Doctor Ceñudo, a man supposed to be very well skilled in the Critiscisms of Learning; he answered, That it was a great while since he was stolen from that Concourse, and that he feared he was either out of Town or sick: Truly, I should be sorry for that, replyed Don Leo∣nardo; for though the Court be so abounding in all things of Plea∣sure, yet does it not afsord any that can yield it me, so fully, as the seeing that in it there is one

who can supply it with laughter, I mean this Doctor; of whom it may be better said than once of an * 1.2 Emperour it was, He was born for the Delight of Mankind. I am confident that had this Man lived in the Athenian Republick, they would have maintained him out of the Common Stock in the Pri∣taneum, as they did all those fa∣mous Men to whom they acknow∣ledged any Obligation. Is there any thing of so great importance in a Common-Wealth as Laughter? All the Cares of Life are directed to this end. The Ambitious man loses his Sleep, the Covetous man his Judgment, the Voluptuous man his Estate and Honour, only for this little Idol, for Pleasure, whose greatest testimony is Laughter. What needed Epicurus to have puzzled our Brains, to find out what was the greatest Felicity,

knowing there was Laughter in the World? Which though it should have no other advantage on its side, then that no man whilst he was laughing and merry, ever committed a fault that might deserve a frown, is sufficient to call it, The greatest Good in our Sphere. What Virtue is not to be found in a merry man? At all times you shall see him liberal, peaceable, courteous, grateful, good company, discreet, and fi∣nally pleasant. Was there ever a melancholy man seen, who hath not some fault that occasioned his Melancholy? There is a Philoso∣pher who would prove, by natu∣ral Reason, that all filthy wicked∣ness proceeds from Melancholy. I am cleerly of opinion, that if we had many of these Men in the World, there would be but few Vices.

Say not so, replyed the Licen∣ciate very angry, I am sorry to hear that, from so understanding a Per∣son as you: Do you not consider that too much mirth effeminates the Mind, and that it is unworthy a wise and prudent Man? What do you call effeminating the Mind? said Don Leonardo. I have read that the Lacedemonians went to their Battels with Dances and mer∣ry Songs, wherewith their Sol∣diers being first recreated, they afterwards Charged in the Encoun∣ters with more Gallantry. For you must know, Sir, that fear and sadness go together: Did you ever hear of a Drunkard, that ran away from those Quarrels, which at every instant his Wine provoketh? It is the cheerfulness of that sweet liquor, which animateth and streng∣theneth them. Do we not use to say, when any person is sad, that

his heart is streightened; and then on the contrary, when he is merry, that it is open and free.

Nay, Señon Don Leonardo, said the Licentiate, this is to engage us in Philosophy, and is improper for this place; more at leisure we'll talk of this elsewhere, for I pro∣mise you I have bestowed some pains upon this very point, which you will be glad to see. On this manner did our Arrogant escape out of the Streights; and Don Leonardo seeing himself put off without an Answer, Well Sir, said he to him, if you will have a merry Christmass, come with me and let us go visit the Doctor Ce∣ñudo, for I know his Lodging, and you will see the pleasantest Man, that ever you saw in your Life. Let us go with all my heart, said the Licenciate, for I already have some knowledge of him, as he

also of me, and I assure you, were it not for some singular opinions, the Doctor is an acute ingenious man, and no ill speaker; but he affecteth the way of praising over the left shoulder, as we say, I mean of speaking ill of most men, and contradicting the well-advisedness of others.

There are of this sort of men, who are not at all pleased with an ingenious conceit, unless it touch∣eth upon Heresie, or is not spoken in a language patched up on pur∣pose, like a Beggers cloak, but I leave them to themselves: What I understand is, that they are not to be understood, for by those means which they think to enlarge their fame, they shall suppress it, and their Works shall dye with them; for wanting one that should read them with a gloss, they shall want another that should hear them with patience.

Thus went Don Leonardo diver∣tised, and with saying, Now that you perceive the Thunder hath ceased, you give a flash of Light∣ning, they closed up the conver∣sation, and came to the Doctor Ceñudo's Lodging, where they knocked, and inquired for him; a Boy that seemed the Doctors Page answered, My Master says, he is not within. They laughed heartily at his simplicity, bidding, that he should tell him, here was the Li∣centiate Campuzano, and Don Leo∣nardo. The Lad carried the Mes∣sage, and before he opened the door, asked, Who the Licenciate Campuzano was? At this the good Licenciate was ready to run di∣stracted, and Don Leonardo going about to answer, Do not tell him, said he, my Works will one day make me known; and if till now I have not given many to the Press,

it is, that I have been detained from it by my modesty. This we strangers lose, for how much soever we may have singed our Eyebrows at our Studies, none takes notice of it, no not so much as of the smoak, so licencious is this Age: I much admire that the Doctor questions who I am, since in more than one Conversation he might have easily known it. Be not angry Sir, replyed the waggish Boy, for it is not my Master the Doctor that questions it, but I only, that have his order to deny him to all such as are not of his humour and entertainment, nor does he yet know that your Worships are here. That I easily beleive, said the Licenciate; and walking forwards, they passed through an Entry and an outward Hall, well furnished with Chairs, Tables, Cabinets and Pictures; when the Page, calling through the

key hole of a door that was shut, said, There is no opportunity of see∣ing my Master now, for he is busie at his Devotions; be pleased to walk there a while, or return hither some other day, and I will tell him that you came to do him this favour. Let us entertain our selves with the many things that are here worthy of admiration, said the Licenciate, for I came so desirous of seeing him, that I shall esteem the time utterly lost, which I shall not spend in his Conversation.

Thus stayed they, delighting their Eyes on the various Objects, when Don Leonardo fearing some whimsey should alter the Licen∣ciates resolution, and going to∣wards the door to see if they might get in, observed that the key was left on the outside, and seeing no body to hinder them, for the Page was gone out a good

while before, he opened it, and making a sign to the Licenciate, they both went into a Room, curiously adorned with Books, Pictures, exquisite Venice Glasses, Estremoz Pots, and many pleasant curiosities, both of Brass and Paste∣board; scarce had they entred, when the door with a great bounce was shut and locked. The Room was but dark, for although it was day time, the windows were kept shut, and only a Lamp with three lights was burning in it.

At the noise of the door, the Doctor Ceñudo (who till then sate musing with a Book in his hand) started up: Sir, said the Licenciate, * 1.3 I Kiss your Hands. The Doctor knitting his Brows, in a harsh tone, without answering to his Courtesie, said, What hoe, Vulgar, come forth. Scarcely had he pronounced these words, when,

without knowing from whence, they saw coming towards them two men of a monstrous stature, cloa∣thed after the old Roman manner, with their Arms and Legs girt about, their skin black and hairy, crowned with certain wreathed Serpents, each of them bringing a handsom cudgel in his hand, with which, showing an anger that ap∣peared in various and deformed gestures, they fell upon the poor Licenciate with so good a will, that they took away quite and clean the curiosity he brought with him of seeing the Doctor.

The Visiters were much affrigh∣to see such a vision, but especially the Licenciate, who trembled with all his joints, both of them mut∣tered all the Kalendar over be∣tween their teeth; no body, till then, would have thought that the Licenciate had known so much of

the History of the Saints; Fear did there make admirable show of his knowledge: He invoked with great earnestness St. Anthony and St. Hierom, and all the Flos Sancto∣rum came from him in a direct line. The Doctor supposing that he was sufficiently chastized, made a sign to the Executioners, and in an in∣stant they sank down in the very Chamber.

Whither have you brought me, Señor Don Leonardo? what a divelish place is this? said the Licenciate: I did not think that this * 1.4 Court had been so near to Hell. I pro∣mise you Mr. Licenciate, said Don Leonardo, I have also been deceived in this coming, for I did never think that a Man so much a Christi∣an as Mr. Doctor, had studied Witchcraft. Content your selves, said the Doctor then, with a severe voice, Content your selves, and sit

you down, for there is much to be said to this purpose. Sir, said the Licentiate, you may satifie us by writing if you please, for this is no conversation for sitting. This he said drawing towards the door, and using diligence to open it, but could not, for as I said that was fast locked: Here the afflicted Licen∣ciate was like to have died, but seeing he could not carry it by words, in a place where even cour∣tesies themselves were answered with blows, he made (as they say) a virtue of necessity, and waxed calm: So all three sitting down as though no such thing had passed, the Doctor then proceeded;

I Gentlemen in my younger years, as the World knows, was a Comical Poet; I made some Playes, which since being printed, were the wonder of Italy, Germany and France; they were all of a

lofty Style, Language, and Spirit, very Courtly and replete with Novelties, very Pompous of verse, and fluent of Conceipts: But as the Vulgar advances not the flight of his discourse to so high raised Spheres, and his Center is Igno∣rance; He began to Carp at the the Language as strange, the Pro∣ject as Outlandish, and the Verses as Forraign; Yet this Contempt stopped not here, but proceeded to impudent hissings, and they were so many and so strong as raised a Whirlewind in my Opini∣on, which drowned it in pro∣found despight, till this very day.

I remained at this accident, like the Covetous Merchant, who having passed to the Indies, and afterward fraight with Jewels of the greatest value, in his return home, in sight of the Port, where

he thought to satisfy the thirst of his desires, by enjoying happily all his riches; gained more at the Expence of Dangers, then in Ex∣change of Goods, the Wealthy Vessel is shipwreck'd, striking on a hidden Rock which lay lurking under the waves for his destructi∣on, and scattering his Diamonds, Plate, Cristals, and Pearls, a∣mongst the waters, he hath no∣thing left him, more than the fright, and his life, which as yet he not slighting, endeavours to save, trusting it to a Plank, and thinking that he still carries riches to the Port in his undeceive∣ings.

Of these I served my self, and put silence to my Inclinations, but not to my Anger; This, that will endure all my life with me, taught me vengance against the unquiet and Barbarous Vulgar:

From hence sprang the contradicti∣on which I stedfastly do act against all his affairs, there is not a word approved of, by this beast, which I do not judge Heresie.

My own wit did not seem suffi∣cient for so great an Enemy, but going up and down tormented with this care, I understood that there was lately arrived at this Court a famous Conjurer, brought by a certain powerfull Nobleman, to facilitate some Hydropick Am∣bitions: I had the fortune, to have at that time, a friend that was his intimate acquaintance. This car∣ried me to see him. He acquain∣ted with my design, favoured my Intention; I told him it was to have some familiar, who (in imi∣tation of that Divel of Socrates's, which told him in his ear, many of his fortunate Exployts, as Plato, Plutarch, and Apuleius write) should

furnish me with Reasons and man∣ners whereby to contradict the Vulgar, and their Extravagances. Gold, entreaties, and a certain con∣formity of Disposition, made his Will courteous, in so much that he gave me a Ring wrought with such Conjurations, and made under such an Influence of the Stars, that it hath vertue bound up in it, as that every time when I shall move it on this first finger of my left hand, and shall put the Seal whereon is Engraven the Image of Saturn out∣ward, there shall come as many Divels as shall be necessary to my purpose: these sometimes do ap∣pear in the form, which now they have appeared in, at other times, without taking any vissible shape, they tell me in my Ear, reasons and Arguments never thought of by the wit of Man, to contradict the Opinions of the Foolish Vulgar.

But it hath nothing, that so much Merits my thankfulness, as one vertue which I have made Expe∣rience of; and it is, that no body hath ever seen them till now, that keeps it not in a perpetual secresie, or if he publishes it, suffers not dreadful Torments by their hands.

You, Mr. Licentiate, came in now, with an Ignorance of the rash Vul∣gar, in saying that you kissed my hands, what mean you by that? do you not perceive that it is a folly? Sir, reply'd the Licentiate somewhat troubled, to kisse the hand is a sign of obedience, it is to confess superiority. I grant you that, said the Doctor, to kisse the hand is a sign of Vassallage or sub∣jection, but to say you kisse my hands, and not to kisse them, is a thing very different, you may as well say in your salutation, God never give you health. Imitate

the antient prudence, that saluted with a Salve, the same as God pre∣serve you, and understanding men use; But it being the first time, I will not be too strict: You, Sir, will amend, at lest when you are with Ingenious People. This, said the Licenciate, is a Courtesie so received amongst the Vulgar, that it would seem a madness to sepe∣rate our selves from it: So that, replyed the Doctor, with the Vul∣gars using it you think it suffici∣ently Authorized; take care ra∣ther that you alledge Plato, or Aristotle, for your Author. But now let us leave this, and tell me, Gentleman, what it was that brought you to this poor Cottage. Only to give you a * 1.5 good Christ∣mas, said the Licenciate; and at the Instant, the Doctor making a∣nother frown, What, said he, is there yet more Vulgarity? He saw

himself raised up to the Top of the Room, in a kind of spotted cloud, by gray shaddows amidst many confu∣sed flames, with a great deal of smoak. The affrighted Licenciate had then no Courage left him, not so much as to recommend himself to the Saints; But remained Pale and dismay'd, not being able to fetch his Breath.

Don Leonardo, who saw his Com∣panion so near the house top, that he rubbed the Cobwebs from the Joyces with his head, thought that he himself was not secure with his silence, therefore kneeled on both knees, lift up his hands, ar∣ched his Eyebrows, fixed his Eyes on him, between respect and fear, and said, Mr. Doctor, this Gentle∣man came hither in confidence of me, he's a most passionate admirer of your Wisdom, and a Wit, wor∣thy of a greater Estimation; he is a stranger lately come to Town▪

and not acquainted with the Laws, which you have ordained for men of parts: Be pleased for what he is, to pardon him some mistakes, and to publish the Law before you execute the Penalty. His being a stranger shall save him, said the Do∣ctor, and in a Moment the whole Cloud was dissolved, the Licenciate descending from that dignity, remai∣ned in the Chayre wherein he was, without Colour or Pulses. A brave folly it is, said the Doctor, to say, that you come to give me Christ∣mas, as though it was not come two days since: And you say, you come to give me a good one; how doe you think to do it? what Turkeys or Capons do you bring me, or what good newes? do you know what you say? Is it not a foolishness to say what you understand not? Mr. Doctor., for Gods sake let him alone said Don Leonardo unless you

mean by strangling him, to bring him out of his swound. Plato's knowledge cost him more, reply'd the Doctor. 'Tis no matter, let him passe these straights, for that wise man went through greater dangers, sailing through a great part of the Sea, and travailing almost over the World for it.

By this the Licentiate was retur∣ned from his affright, and said, as if he had spoke to himself: O how much doest thou cost me, Virgin, daughter of Jupiter, and mother of truth! Sacred Knowledge, how much dost thou cost me! but who ever reached the Gold with∣out breaking through mountains of stone? who got to the Indies without passing the Fears of the Sea, well imployed dangers, happy Solicitudes, that have facilitated me so great a Treasure of Truths. It is sufficient that I am assured of

what I have, as in a Dream, thought of Zoroastes; It is sufficient that Magick is powerful for such Trans∣formations; that Devils walk a∣mongst us Cheek by Joul, and we know them not; It is sufficient that Madrid stands so near the Abysse that it breaths its fiery breath thorough it. O the great Noble∣ness of the soul, that hath the Infer∣nal Spirits at its command, at its command (I say) even although it be not perfectly declared, but only by signes, for upon the very hint do these Devils move, and in an instant take the shapes of Giants, to obey it!

Wise Doctor, believe not of my Wit, that it will conceive displea∣sure, at that which meriteth thanks; I had some knowledge of thy Wis∣dom, yet but small, and not com∣parable to the Experience, which thou hast given me; If I before de∣sired

to see thee as an Oracle; If I formerly applauded thee, only at∣tent on thy reputation, and to so short a reputation, what shall I do after having made tryal of thy Marvels? Such men as thou art do the vulgar despise? such excellent persons, doth he not adore? does he forget the use and Glory of Sta∣tues in a time when thou livest? What greater Testimony of his Ig∣norance, of his Envy, and of his bar∣barousness? I likewise to be his mor∣tal enemy do need no other injuries then those, which against thy illu∣strious wit he hath done, since in it all illustrious Wits are injured: If not the stroak of this Injury, yet at least, the Eccho lights on all; For even as the Lawrell which is given to a well deserving man, e∣qually Crowns all those that are so; so an injurious reproach does equally affront them. I will not

beg that thou shouldest take me in∣to thy favour, either because I con∣tent my self, and esteem it for a high Felicity to serve thee alwayes without more Correspondency, or because it would be a Contempt of thy wit, to require it not to be ungrateful.

I durst have sworn, said the Do∣ctor, that Don Leonardo's friend, would imitate him in Wit, friend∣ship never grew betwixt unequals. I condemn my Choler, in not ha∣ving given you leave to speak, by which, without doubt, I might have known you, at the very instant, and should have given you the Place which you merit in my e∣steem.

Now the Tempest is over, said Don Leonardo, Pray Sir tell me how you Do? Scarcely had he said this, when at one leap a terrible Monkey of a marvelous greatness, put him∣self

by his side, playing with his Tayle, and moving with strange Gestures, and bringing in his hand an Urinal, full of Urin; what do you command me? Said Don Leonardo (with a handsome grace) since you know how docible I am, that you may teach me, so much to my cost, a thing that, I fear, will give me an∣other eudgelling bout. This he said, and the Monkey still persisting to put the Urinal before his eyes, and being very near them; The poor Gentleman supposed that he would give it him to drink, and therefore was determined not to reply, fearing a greater punishment; so took it to Obey, and had already lifted it up to his mouth, saying 'tis a hard case that you should use our patience so ill, we being your friends and such passionate ones too: You might have jested more courteous∣ly, and deserved, in your very con∣tempts

of us, much gratitude on our part: but these Jests are not fit to be put upon a Rogue. You, Se∣ñor Don Leonardo, did you not ask how I did? said the Doctor, with what intent did you ask me? With what intent should I ask? but to know it, replyed Don Leonardo. Why, how can that be known better, then by seeing the Urin, said the Doctor? and if that be not sufficient, ask it of my Pulfe, with your fin∣gers: Is it not better and more ea∣sie, replyed Don Leonardo, to ask it of you, and that you should tell it? I am sure this is very severe.

No Sir, said the Doctor, observe this, either I am pale and lean in my Bed, when you ask it me, or I am merry and fat seated in my Chair as I am now. In the first case, you need not ask if I have my health, for my Phisiognomy says that I have it not: If then this be

certain, the Question comes not, to desire to know that, but in what Estate the humor is, which causeth any infirmity, if it be upon its de∣parture, or on its stay. This, there is no sick man can know: to tell it, only the Urin and the Pulse under∣stand it. In the second place, the Question is very foolish, for either the face is faithful to that which is within the Body, and then there is no need to ask of the health, be∣cause that tells it, and merits credit, in being the most noble part of our Body: or it is unfaithful, and ap∣pearing chearful and far, covers ill humors, and then neither can it an∣swer, nor give account of its health, because those sicknesses which promise health in the face, and soundness of the members are so trayterous that they not only de∣ceive others, but himself that suf∣fers them. According to this, Man

is so ignorant of his own constitu∣tion, that he is not able to answer to this Question. Then from hence forward perforce this must be asked by feeling the Pulse, or by asking for the Urinal: Pray then return it to this my Nurse, if you have yet con∣jectured the state of my humour.

Yes truly, said Don Leonardo, (giving back the Glass) I have con∣jectured your humor, that you spend a good one; I do not spend it, Señor Don Leonardo, replyed the Doctor, mind but how you speak: I do not spend it, but im∣ploy it, and observe what I say, to spend a good humour is for Talkers, that speak with good humours, without profiting with it, this pro∣perly is to spend. To imploy it, is of discreet men, that treasures up with it, either acceptance or ap∣plause in the hearers, or else teaches the Ignorant, as I do now you two

The Monkey by this time was va∣nished, and the two Friends ha∣ving taken a little more breath, the Licentiate said, Will you not tell me the cause why on a day so pleasant as this, you are so mewed up in your Lodging, and with an arti∣ficial light, when the Sun gives one so splendid to all this Hemi∣sphere? Many daies since, I have observed, that you do not frequent that part of the Calle Mayor or great Street, as you used to do; what Novelty is this? for in gene∣rous persons, any change argues a strong reason, and in fools some∣thing of accident. You have asked me much, said the Doctor, you have asked me much, and if the Door was not fast lock'd, I should fear you would leave me, and be gone before I should have done an∣swering you: There is much to be said to this; you, I suppose, have

dined already, betwixt this and nine of the Clock at night are many hours, and it will bo no ill work to entertain our selves in them. You ask, why I study by an Artificial Light being in the Day time. How if the Suns light should enter into my Lodging, could I study? would it not divert me, to consider, that that Light sprang from the Sun, and was beholding to the courtesie of the air to spread it abroad over all the Universe, and that it not only gives it to the world, but to the Stars al∣so: That the Moon likewise bor∣rows of it, as we see in the Ecclipses, and that these show the roundness of the Earth, as is evident by the shadow; for when it is interposed between the Sun and the Moon it alwaies appears round.

Hence of force should be consi∣dered, whether or no the Waters were upon the Earth, or the Earth

upon the waters; and if both Ele∣lements made not one round Body. Then how afterwards could the o∣pinion of that Philosopher escape my memory, who said that the Earth was carried upon the waters like a Ship. Presently I should de∣scend to that fancy of another, who supposed, that the Water was more ancient, and more noble, than the Earth; and was the cause of the generation of all things, by its hu∣mid quality, wherein Life is foun∣ded.

I should from them pass to the generation of Animals and Plants; and should stop upon the latter, to contemplate on the beauty of the flowers, that with so much grace & pleasantness, publish the greatness of God. I should afterwards think with Cicero, that if there should be no other Testimony that there was a God, but the beauty of the world,

it would be sufficient to convince a man of a Divinity. Coming then to this, how could I possibly forget being a Gramarian, and not ob∣serve, that Mundus in Latin, implies cleanness or ornament; and that this Machin is so called, by reason of the beauty which adorns it? In∣somuch that I could by no means study, if I should see the light of the day.

As to the second, wherefore I am shut up, I will tell you, but you must have patience.

What do you call patience? said the Licentiate; call it Joy, and it will be more proper: You stand throwing Jewels out of your mouth, and you esteem our cove∣tousness so drowsie, that you stop to awaken it. Proceed Sir, I be∣seech you, and be confident, that you cast not your Pearles before Swine. The Doctor supposed he

did, because he had seen Don Leo∣nardo determined to be so with the Urinal. And the Licentiate smelt as though he had been one, with the fear of the Visions.

He then proceeded, saying, I, Gentlemen, have no stomach to di∣gest so great Irons, as those I see, when I go forth to walk in this piece of * 1.6 Bizcaya, amongst those many which it hath: They pro∣voke me to vomit, not being able to endure it, and they that see me vomit shew a niceness; this is an unreasonable thing, for it is not for Men to have such strong stomachs, but for Austridges, and Elephants; in a word, for Beasts: And if these make not all sick, as they do me, it is because they were bred up with this Venom; as once that * 1.7 King was, whom it not only did not kill, but rather nourished.

Who is able to endure that Junto

of Fools, with Cloak and Gown of the Learned? I could well e∣nough pass with their being all fools, since I treat with few, but what are such; that which most incenseth me, is, that they being so, feign themselves to be Learned: Those wretched People, the rest of the Fools of the Town are blame∣less, in regard they know not, that there is such a thing as Knowledge in the world; or if they do, they despise it in their opinion, and hold it for a madness: But you that know or understand that there is, and we much adore it, that you enoble your selves with its Title: You neither follow after it, nor ever see it. What Imposture is this? If you esteem it, why do you not follow after it, why do you not overtake it? Not for want of wings, since there hath been no Age so happy, nor so well provi∣ded

with them, as so great a num∣ber of Books declare, that the Vo∣lumes of these of this Age do ex∣ceed the letters of those of that, which was illustrious with so many Philosophers: neither is it for want of wit, for I see you ingeni∣ous in finding out the faults of o∣thers: It is your sloath, it is your vanity, that hath perswaded you that the Glory and Felicity of knowledge, doth not consist in be∣ing wise; but in appearing so: you content your selves with the vain ostentation of knowing Books: This you attain, without more paines, then coming to the Shop where they are to be sold, by rea∣ding the Titles, and tireing out the poor Bookseller, to reach down this and the other, to consult the first page, and know by it what is contained in the whole Volume, as by Phisiognomy.

You will say (Mr. Licentiate) why do I not go thither, to that end which others do, to divert my self, in seeing the people which pass by? Yes, I would so, if I had patience to suffer it: Who can en∣dure to see there a Squadron of pitiful Soldiers, keeping their de∣corum, and making their cringes to many that resort often to that place: (of the Rabble I speak.) These I say, because they have heard their Grandsires tell tales, how there hath been Wars in the world, and how in them certain men killed others; They come ••••ther to tell us a thousand of their lying atchievements, which they themselves know not if they are possible or not; they never saw the Wars nor the Ensignes thereof, and the worst is, they have no affection at all to its troublesome noyse, as may be seen; for if they

had, they would never come to martyrise the Walk of * 1.8 San Felipe for so long a time. For it was the Providence of Heaven to sweeten great labours, by giving us an In∣clination to them. I confess that those of the War are intollerable, but if there be inclination, they cannot be so. Hence it proceeds, that many great Princes, who might live in the sweet rest of the Court, do despise it, being carryed away by their Inclinations, and chuse, for greater and more mild enter∣tainment, that horrour, and those fears of Arms.

I well know, they say, that they come to the end the King may re∣ward their Services, that they have none what greater accuser then their very solicitude. Friend, Soldier if thou wert one with all thy heart, in being so thou wouldst find thy reward. What Mechanick

Artificer doth not hug himself and esteem that day happy, wherein he brings some work to perfection? Those men are in their Centre, who busie themselves in the attaining those things which their nature in∣clines them to: If thine be to follow Arms, thou wouldest not go from amongst them. Didst thou go out, and hast thou escaped Death? by this returning thou art not of that trade, but art a man of peace; strip off then this bravery, and let us un∣derstand one another.

Three hundred forty and seven years was Rome Triumphant after her foundation, without giving a∣ny Sallery to her Soldiers, without pay they fought, without pay they extended that Empire of the world. It was a provident action; for on this manner it happened that none went to the Wars without inclina∣tion and natural boldness, no bo∣dy

went out, carried by hunger, and the desire of Pillage: It was generosity of mind that preferr'd them in that ventrous Army. Hence it was that all were stout, all were valiant.

Would you have me entertain my self in seeing the Coaches? God forbid. I see so many things in them, that they carry away my patience through my eyes. I will say no∣thing of women, because I have need of them, and it is a creature that conceives most anger at con∣tempts, and yields the most to flat∣tery of any, others will do it. Let some great man, that wants not ano∣ther thing to pleasure them with∣all, though he be never so great a Coxcomb; I say, let him make this Iron, since he hath wherewithall to guild it, for we that were born ill looked upon, or under an unkind aspect of the Stars, have need of

much cunning and fair words to be able to live.

We owe great courtesie to Wo∣men, and it is not Complement, but a forced reall Debt, wherein we pay all the care, with which they spend days and nights for our allurements, in trimming, dressing, painting thēselves, & preparing flat∣tering baits in their tongues. They treat of no other matter, they have no other care, without which they would live a life wholly disconsolate, in seeing their imperfections and wants, in which nature hath mai∣medly left them, if we should not comfort them, and blot them out of their memory, with these flatteries, which, be they never so absurd, they judge for truths, and deceive themselves with them.

The Doctor would have pro∣ceeded further, if the thrid of his discourse had not been cut off by

a profound sigh, from the Licen∣tiate, which he threw up with some clearing of his throat. What afflicts you Sir, said Don Leonardo? When you see the Humanity with which Mr. Doctor doth communi∣cate the productions of his fruitful Wit. You need not now fear any more Visions; besides, with holding your peace all is remedied. It is no matter of consequence, said the Licenciate, and gave another double sigh, but endeavouring to suppress it, at last, fetching short his breath, what's the matter, said the Doctor? what's the matter, for Gods sake? make not your self strange to my love, for that is to suspect it of being but little faithful. Pray take notice Sir, that you are in a place, where no thought whatsoever is concealed, though it retires never so near the Heart, and gets never so far from

the mouth. But why do I weary my self with asking, having a desire to know?

In saying this, a little Curtain was drawn, and behind it appeared a figure of Brass, which seemed to be Cupid, with his Quiver, Bow, Scarf and Arrows; no sooner was it discovered when these words were heard to come from it, The man is in Love.

The Licentiate had scarce heard this (for now he was charmed a∣gainst Visions) when, much afflicted, he said, Mr. Doctor, Heaven hath guided me hither to day, to see you, in a time of the greatest Exe∣gency that my heart hath ever had. That which this Spirit saith, is the very truth; I will tell you it at large, because I hope for a remedy from your profound Science, and you must take notice, by the way, that the reason why there

is so little Love in the world, is, because I have it all, insomuch that there is none left for any o∣ther. In my heart he keeps all his Armory with great glory, there his Temple and Altars, with more zealous demonstrations, with more pious Ceremonies, then when An∣tiquity consecrated to the flattery of his Deity, the bloud of brute Animals: Here I shed my own bloud for the Victim, to him, which by little and little consumes me with its burning fire.

As I passed, one Summers Evening, in a Coach through the meadow of San Geronimo, now no more a meadow, but a wilderness, where∣in are hunted, with cruel destructi∣on, not wild beasts, but men; here I fell entangled into nets of soft hair, was subjected by the darts of piercing Eyes, I yielded my self up to the smiles of a mouth, and

suffered my self to be carried away with the pleasure of blushing cheeks: The owner of these arms went in another Coach; we bring together hers and mine, where was a tender yielding on my part, and a wanton allowance on hers; I never thought that in flat∣tering breaths there could come revengeful flames, yet they came in those of her peaceful words: I remained hers, followed her as her slave, learnt her house, her quality, and that of her Parents; I knew she had a brother equall to me in age and humour, I procu∣red his friendship by divers ways, and got admittance by this means, into the House of Doña Dorothea (for so she is call'd, that is, happy in all graces) I spoke to her ten∣derly, she answered me mildly, read my verses, and applauded them, gave reception to some of

my presents, all which passed with security, and little notice taking of her Parents, on the score that I was her brothers friend, they suppos'd that that was courtesie, and not courtship; kindness, and not Love.

Time, opportunity, and con∣verse, made me every day more happy in her favour, I can assure you, that I had hope before I had love, so much did her favours an∣ticipate my desires. They go forth on their way, it being sufficient for me to meet and receive them. Fi∣nally, this Lady, in regard she was the most beautiful, was the most desired by all kind of pretenders, because she had entertainment for all desires; she had Wealth for the Covetous, Nobility for the Gentle∣man, Beauty for the Gallants, Vir∣tue for the Sober, and Discretion for the Wise: But I alone was the fortunate possessor of her Love; I

gave storme to the fort of her Breast, and gained her Heart, but not without my own loss and de∣struction, if so peaceable an action deserves so severe a name, as is the giving mine in exchange of her heart, 'tis the majesty of Love that knows not how to yield it self to unequals; must another Love be born, another must call him to de∣fiance: On this manner passed I the pleasantest hours, that I can hope for in my Life; when fortune envious, or justly angry, that hu∣mane merits should tyrannize over so divine parts, stole her from mine Eyes and from my hopes.

'Tis three days since I have not been in my self, 'tis three daies since, that I live without knowing where I am, because I know not where she is, that is owner of my Sense: I was on Christmas day to visit her, taking occasion of the

time, but found her not within, I asked her mother for her; she told me that she was gone to see an Aunt of hers; I met her Father in the street, he told me that her Mo∣ther and she were gone to a Nove∣na, at the Holy Covent of Alcala; and perceiving the deceit, in the disagreement of the Witnesses, I I consulted her Brother, but found him confused; who not suspecting that so large a share of the success concerned me, related the grea∣test misfortune that hath happened in the World.

Miseries of Beauty, how great are ye! Divine Dorothea, I wish thou hadst never been born beau∣tiful; if thou wert to be unhappy, without doubt, fortune thinks her self beautiful, since she persecutes so much those who are so; alas, my destiny! I durst have sworn thou wouldst throw me down with the

greatest hazard, when thou raisedst me up to so high fortune. Things that are wholly perfect, never en∣dure long: In Perfection it self doth danger lie concealed; in Height it self doth ruine stand threatning. The Sun in coming to the Sign where it is most elevated, begins to decline, and continues not in his greatest height one minute.

He related to me, as to a friend, in whom he expected not dismays, but comforts, that his Sister was wanting since the night before, that going in a Coach with her Mo∣ther to Mattins, in returning home without knowing by whom or where, they were set down at a house so like theirs, as the night and sleepiness would give them leave to discern, that being decei∣ved, they entred into it, and in an instant the Coach disappeared, and them they lock'd up in two several

Rooms well furnished, which shew∣ed a rich master; that afterwards they offered a Sedan to her Mo∣ther to bring her home in, tel∣ling her that her Daughter was there already without any hurt, that she should hold her peace; and that the Love of a great man had attempted a thing that had succeeded in vain; but finally, Don∣na Dorothea, was free now from all fear: with this her Mother was deceived, and no sooner had those who carried her come to the street where she lived, when they in∣treated her that she would go alone into her house, because they would not, by chance, be known, by the lights that should come out to re∣ceive her. With this she entred, and they were gone in an instant: Insomuch that when she knew her Daughter was not at home; and called to her Father and Brother

for Vengeance, they found no bo∣dy on whom to execute it.

When I heard such sad news, I remained as dead; he that related them, thought I had done it only out of my friendship to him, and was glad to find so lively a resent∣ment, hoping that I would help to search her out as a faithful friend: So I promised him to do, but in vain, since there is not so much as the least shadow of her. 'Tis now three days since that I have sought her with all diligence, but I am asha∣med of my care; for I find no way, not so much as to shew my sollici∣tude: So unhappy am I, that I am not so much as able to shew that I have a desire to find her, by one way or another, that would not be to her great disgrace.

This puts me besides my wits, this is it, that cannot be contained in my breast, and gets forth a∣mongst

my sighs: This is the cause that I throw my self at thy feet, most learned man above all that have been born, take compassion, for Gods sake, of this grievous disaster; let not Fortune boast her self that she hath command over the Wise, since there are that say the wise bear Rule over For∣tune: Tell me where he is that hath stoln her? How she hath de∣fended her self, where this confu∣sion must stop? Consult this Spirit that hath penetrated my thoughts, let us know from him the End of my Griefs, since he already knew the beginning of them.

The Doctor would not have hearkened so long, because he had given him more jealousies than words, with his relation, but to fix in the Vengeance of this, and of the Pride with which he had painted himself the sole disposer of

her, who was so, of all, and it was on this manner.

The Licentiate had no sooner ended, but the little Idol, which had given the first answer, sank down, leaving in the wall an hollow place, through which the sight might freely passe to another quarter, curiously rich. You, Mr. Licentiate, take courage, said the Doctor, and you shall see with your Eyes the estate of your care, peep through this hole, and see that which passeth. The Licentiate did so, and saw Doña Dorothea, who was in dis∣course with a Gallant, of a hand∣some personage and disposition: This, said the Doctor, is sufficient for the present, and the Curtain was drawn. You shall know, said he, that this Lady is already over∣come, I cannot tell you the place where she is, because it is not con∣venient; neither matters it, sup∣pose

it was told; To her Parents, You may say that an Astrologer hath prognosticated to you, that they shall bring her back to her House within a very few days, that in the mean time they make no bustle, since they will suffer more than any body else in their own honour. I am sorry that so understanding a man should let himself be deceived by the flatte∣ries of a Woman. Know, that she never loved you, but only for her Husband, her Love regarding more your wealth then your person.

The Arrogant Gallant was asto∣nished, and unexpectedly surprized at the wonders he saw and heard, insomuch that he was struck speech∣less with rage and indignation. Don Leouardo that was in no lesse admiration, supposing that man∣hood was now of no use, rose up, taking his leave os the Doctor; at

which the Licentiate did the same, without offering to speak any thing at all; at last giving him many thanks for injuries, they both went away blundering and stumbling, and asking one another if it was Truth indeed, that they had seen the passed Visions.

CHAP. II. The Fool gives an Account of his Life to his Friend, to∣gether with the occasion of the adventures already rela∣ted.

THe troubles of the Calle Mayor (or high Street) were not the occasion of our Doctors shutting him∣self up, as he had told the Licenci∣ate; for those had an easier reme∣dy, since there are other streets in Madrid more quiet, and passages into the Fields more pleasant. Love it was that had confined him to his house for his Prison.

Who told thee so, my friend Historian? (will some body say)

how dost thou know that? Few there are that can answer to this Question; but I am so great a friend of clearing doubts, that I very willingly resolve it. It was told me by a Gentleman of Madrid, a friend and intimate of the Do∣ctors, his name Don Felix del Pra∣do, he gave me an account of his Life, and particularly of the mar∣velous success which gave me oc∣casion to write it.

Don Felix was troubled at the melancholy and retiredness of the Doctor, which now was taken no∣tice of by all his friends; for Christmas holydays were past, and their Mirth, without the Doctors having had any taste of them. He was always in the house, yet never suffering himself to be seen by any body, save once, that two entred in without his leave, which cost them a sufficient trouble, as I have

related. This Gentleman was of a pleasant nature, always desirous of making friendships, and had contracted a very firm one with the Doctor upon occasion of those Amours; even to the making of himself a party in them

One day then when he saw him more free from Sighs, then he was accustomed to be; I assure you, my friend, said he to him, I under∣stand you not; you say you are almost undone for this woman. You have her in the house, and without any hazard: what would you have more? Enjoy the oppor∣tunity: Declare your self to her, and leave off disguises. I see, said the Doctor, I have these advanta∣ges near and easie to satisfie my appetite; I well see that I can force her without hazard, since she thinks I am a stranger, with this masque that I have put on (of

which I shall hereafter give you an Account) but I do not subject my desires to such humble Victories, I covet her Love, I would conquer her Soul; I pay not my self with lesser pledges: Love is the Salt of all these delights, with Love the sight of the Lady is glorious, and even that of the Walls of her house; with Love hope is happy; with Love any promise is of Esti∣mation, every glimpse is a favour, every word is sweet, all is seasoned with Love; if that be wanting neither avails the seeing her, nor speaking to her, nor as many fa∣vours as confidence it self can force from her. Now I see, reply'd Don Felix, that it is a great misfortune to be a wise man, if you were not such, you would not spin out a discourse on this manner, but would lay hold on the occasion; enjoy it, and then, as unconcer∣ned,

bid defiance to Love.

We are alone, said the Doctor, and with intention not to go out of this house, nor let in any body, that shall not be of it; I am big with this thought, and have made experience of this truth, give me attention, I beseech you; Listen to the discourse of my Life, and you shall see by the way, how ex∣actly you have hit on that conceit: You shall see how all the time that I was a fool, I was the most happy person of the World, only by be∣ing so; notwithstanding I was ne∣ver so much deserted by men; nay fortune herself, she did also forsake me then, when I was a fool, be∣cause I imagined that, in time, I might cease to be so. I have no business, said Don Felix, that re∣quires my presence, more than your cares; and therefore should be glad, that you would tell me

the beginnings of them, because on this manner I might walk with more light: One and the other (said the Doctor) you shall know this afternoon, although the last will but renew my smart, and I know not whether or no I shall have patience to endure it.

I (my friend) was conceived in original folly, and can say, I am a fool on all sides; for my Father, being a man well born, and ha∣ving taken the degree of Licenci∣ate in Alcala, with his foot already in the stirrip for a most honoura∣ble imployment, fell in love with my Mother, being a Maiden of mean Extraction, and also a fool, by complection. This good Fa∣ther of mine, being wounded with the darts of her pretty Eyes, grew desperately in love with her, and therefore contrived how he might deceive her, so gave her a pro∣mise

of Marriage, with intention to leave her in the lurch; she giv∣ing credit to his words, they both play'd the fool: for he was after∣wards forced to marry her, by Justice; and she brought her Ho∣nour almost to the last gasp.

From this folly of both was I born, at a time when the Councel of the Judges, nominated my Fa∣ther to a Government in that other World, which was like killing him, for this: Now I being but newly born, he considered that the embarquing me with him, was to hazard my life; and therefore determined to leave me in charge with a Brother of his, then Curate of Odòn a Village three Leagues from Madrid: He did so, and de∣parted with his Wife.

My breeding up, was then in Odòn at the breasts of a bouncing wench, the Wife of a farmer, rude

in behaviour and language: Here you see my excuse before hand, if in my History, I use but little or∣der in my words, for what Lan∣guage could I learn from a woman of this rank? She gave me in her Milk the Quintescence of Garleek, Onions, and Wine, which was her dayly sustenance. Here you see me rustick in body and foul; but as Heaven always takes care of those whom men forsake, I grew strong and robust with this harsh∣ness, but I retained the Phisiogno∣my of the Nurse, her brown skin, and a surly frown, perchance learnt from that which she always put on when she looked upon me, so powerful is the imaginati∣on. In such manner did the fear of her severity possesse me, that musing always upon it, it remai∣ned imprinted on my face; my head was fortified by her hideous

clamors, and my patience, by meer vexations.

Now at seven years of Age, my Uncle considering that it was time to learn to read, and write, taught me, in company of another Nephew of his, of the same Age, which he kept in the house: I, in my looks, shewed alwaies a con∣tumacious, and rebellious Wit: together with a stubborn kind of reservation: Insomuch, that in the Town, they courteously called me el Ceñudo, or the Frowner, in stead of calling me, the Fool.

My Uncle was harsh of Hu∣mour, but had a plodding head of his own, and therefore notwith∣standing he whipped my school fel∣low, at every turn, for the neg∣lect of his lesson, yet did he me, but seldom, saying that I, that was a Fool, for my dulness might be excused, but not the other, be∣cause

he shewed a free wit: From that time forward did my folly be∣gin to stand me in stead, since it saved me so many whippings, and I lost nothing in the conclusi∣on, for I learnt as much as the other, because he learnt very lit∣tle. Eight hundred Duckats did the Cure bring in yearly to my Uncle, and yet for all this, he was so miserable, that he made use of us instead of Servants, and kept no other. But I was born with I know not what Pride in my heart, which pull'd me by the sleeve, and reprehended me every time I did any thing that was un∣worthy.

He used to send me for Wine, and I that had always a liquorish palate, play'd the Taster to the Pitcher, but that Town being plentiful of water, I repayed it doubly out of the first River I came

at: My Uncle apprehending it, in the Tast, somewhat troubled, began to say, that I being a Fool, the Woman of the Tavern still gave me of the worst, and so sent me no more.

To these messages my Compani∣on proffered himself with great diligence, for he was naturally a friend of play, and loved gadding abroad; but I escaped not scot∣free, for it cost me the care of the Bells, a thing, in my opinion, most troublesome, and what would almost be impossible for me to un∣dergo, if I were not otherwise enabled, and my folly should not succour me. The good Curate contrived to spare a Sexton, and that I should pay for it. I had not a head to run up and down the turning stairs of the Steeple, so many times a day; nor to endure the noyse of the Bells; for having

in the Milk, sucked in so much Wine and Garleek, my head was in a perpetual giddiness.

I remember once that sleeping in the most sound and quiet time of the night, there came a husband∣man of the Town in great hast, to intreat my Uncle that he would give order to knock the bells for Child-birth, because his wife was just crying out. My good Curate then waked me, saying, rise Perico, rise, and ring for Child-birth quickly, quickly; I got up, and as we fools have great memories, I retained in it, the quickly, quick∣ly, and I knocked the Bells so nimbly that the Inhabitants of the Town had thought, without doubt, it rang for fire: At the ala∣rum they all got up, running out of their houses, some with pit∣chers, others with kettles, others with buckets, and others with se∣ringes

and several Engins, all came straight to the Church, to ask me where? where? I answered in such a ones house, thinking that they would know where the wo∣man in Labour was; and the Cu∣rate being fallen asleep again, I had no body to shew me my er∣rour.

The Neighbours were all thus gathered together in a Tumult at the house of the woman in Labour, and seeing a great deal of smoak go up out of the Chymney, for they had, by chance, kindled the Childbed fire of straw, (which is poor peoples fuel upon necessi∣ty) they all supposed, that there the house was on fire, indeed, and began to pour on their Pitchers, Kettles, Seringes, and other Engins of water; to untile the house, and pull down the Chimney that they might quench the fire; others fell

to breaking open the doors, with a terrible clattering, and hearing the woman crying out with her pains in the bed, believed she did it for fear of the fire, they carried her out in their arms into the street, no arguments, nor entrea∣ties being sufficient to prevent it. When they came near to see more at leisure, where the fire was, there was fallen such abundance of rub∣bish upon it that they thought the poor woman owed her life to that diligence, who was delivered before all the Town in the middle of the street, and of a multitude of lights; that the Child might be sure not to want Witnesses nor Goships.

The Relation of the husband was not sufficient with the Town, to perswade them, that they were not called to the quenching of a Fire, but to Child-birth, though he swore it a thousand times, yet

they believed him not: So ordi∣nary a thing it is to give more cre∣dit to a rascal then to an honest man. I was sorry the fault was not laid at my door; but my Un∣cle suspected it, which was best for my ease, for seeing that I under∣stood not the Office, he resolved to take it from me in a few dayes: and dissembled it at present, be∣cause he would not anger the par∣ties agrieved.

A while after, dyed one of the principal men of the parish, a Gen∣tleman and of good Parentage: But a person that would make a fool of himself, when he was in his Wine, so that being a little elevated, would go out upon a holy-day with a Tabor and Pipe, to make merry and dance with the maids and young men of the Town, in a ridiculous manner. My Uncle knew of his being dead, and at

the instant came hastily to me: Go Perico, said he, go ring for the Dead, and without Laziness, for the Love of God, merrily, merri∣ly: He thought that I understood he meant the Bells, and supposed it was sufficient to make signes to me. I went to my Belfry very carefully, to obey him with all punctuality, and considered how he had commanded me to ring for the Dead merrily. God bless me, thought I to my self, surely the Physician of the the Town is dead, or the Scrivano, (or Attorney) since my Uncle hath a mind I should celebrate it with so much mirth. I bethought my self that the merriest sound, in my opinion, was the Chaccona, and knocked the Chacona with both my hands, on two Bells, so to the life, and with so much Air, that many after∣wards swore to me, it had made them dance.

The Parents of the Dead-man, thinking it was to mock him for be∣ing a Taborer, take their Half-pikes and Lances, and coming towards the Belfry, before they got thither, they began to shout, and call out Rogue, Rascal, dost thou not know what thou dost? I, seeing that Squa∣dron together, armed at all Points, confirmed my suspicion, and ve∣rily believ'd, they came to make merry for the death of some of the the aforesaid, with a * 1.9 Torneo de a pie; I then more pleased my self with the sound, but they redoub∣ling their noyse, I held still a little for curiosity, and heard them say to me, who bad thee Rascal, who bad thee Ring after this manner? I believing that they had admired it, answered, my Uncle the Cu∣rate; scarcely had they heard that, when they departed towards his house: but by this, he came runing

to the Steeple, with his Gown tuck'd up at his Girdle, sweating drop after drop, and crying out, what dost thou do, Fool? what dost thou do Beast? Perceiving him angry, I let alone the Bells; and he proceeded, come down from thence beast, for thou un∣do'st me. I came down, and found my good Curate, compassed about by all those Executioners, who made a great noyse, but I minded not what they said, only listning to my Uncle, heard him cry, he'l tell ye, Let him tell: They all re∣ply'd, he has already told us, and at this, they drawing nearer, my Uncle call'd to me, Come hither (Son of a Whore) did I bid thee knock the Chacona? (my father could have said no more to me). Why, said I? did you not bid me ring merrily? what then can you have merrier. This gave them

all satisfaction, and they depar∣ted.

Who now would not have said that this folly should have been my undoing? yet it was not, but the ease of my trouble; for my Uncles anger being appeased, and suppo∣sing that I did it out of Ignorance, never beat me for the neglect; and not to see himself in such another premunire, took from me my Of∣fice of Governour of the Bells, and gave it to my Cozen and Compani∣on.

He had alittle suspicion of his being somewhat greedy, and in re∣gard he loved him more then me, he had employed him in the care of the Larder; now the Man be∣ing miserable, he thought he did well to change his Officers, there∣fore made me his dispencer, or o∣verseer of his provisions, and gave me the keys of a Room where he

kept all his dainties. You see me here Master of all my desire meerly by my follies.

He delivered all to me by ac∣count, Cheeses, Hony, Pome-Ci∣tron, boxes of Quince Marmalate, two dozen Gammons of Bacon, as many dryed Sassages, and a thou∣sand other knacks of the Nunnes. In fine, I took him a little out of each of these meats, and if he said Mass betimes, I also took care to give him a Biscate and Wine, but thought much to give him all, and leave none for my self; and yet feared lest my Uncle coming to know the losse, should take from me the key, and throw me out to the Quire to sing, without more ado. So I hit upon a Stratagem, and it was to give out a report that there were a world of mice haunted us, with this I eat as much Cheese, Biscates and Sweet-meats

as I had a mind to: but being some∣what more affectionate to the Gam∣mons of Bacon, I supposed the mice could not keep me blameless for this, they ordinarily eating little be∣cause they are hindred by the sword of it: Now my Uncle going in dayly to see the State of his Dainties, for certain (said I once to him) there is no suffering this ill neigh∣bourhood of the mice, for I always find somewhat or other devoured; if you, Sir, think fit, we will put in∣to the Larder a Cat that shall give them their payment; the counsel was liked well by my Uncle, who was very angry at the pilfering of the Mice; so he made a Cat-hole in the door, and I went in to serve for a Cat, and cut what I liked of the Gammons, and Sassages, and whilst the rest were at Church, and a little old woman gone to the market for meat, I fryed it for

my self, and drew the Devil out of my Guts. The Curate coming home, noted what was wanting, and con∣cluded straight that the Cat had ea∣ten it and although I did him more mischief, so great was his anger against the Mice, that he was well enough contented, and said, 'Tis no matter, since these scurvy Ver∣min dye in exchange of my loss. I always kept shut the Cat-hole, be∣cause the Cat and I being then both of one trade, I would not that she should out-do me in any thing.

Sixteen years spent I in this life, without knowing that I could have a happier; which was no great matter indeed for me: for whilst a man desireth no more than what he enjoyeth, he may say that he enjoyeth his hearts desire. I found within me a certain covetous incli∣nation to books, which never left me; and went abroad into the

Fields with some of my Uncles, as Guzman the Rogue, Obregon the Squire, Lazarillo, and others of this kind; I entertained my self sweetly with these at all idle times, which were many, in Summer in the Shades, and at the Sun in Win∣ter.

It happened at the time of the Festival, which they use to make to the Sacrament, that there was in the Castle of Odon, a great Gen∣tleman, prisoner, for a certain quar∣rel which he had had with a No∣ble-man in the Court; He under∣taking on his own account to make it, for that purpose sent for a Company of Stage Players from Madrid: Those who had made their Autos (or Acts) there on the same occasion; who represented in Odòn two of excellent variety of verses, of profound conceit, and above all, with great Ornament of

Clothes. I was in great admira∣tion at it, and followed after them open mouth'd, as if by that, all those Graces would have entred into me. They acted some Come∣dies in the Castle to entertain that Gentleman, of which I lost not one tittle, neither was it possible for me to do otherwise.

After they had been there three days, I perceived they talked of going away, and had a couple of Coaches at the Gate, having al∣ready taken leave of the Alcàlde. Here I was ready to lose my sen∣ses, wishing I had never seen them, for it seemed to me I should ne∣ver be able to live in their bitter absence; so much did this desire work in me, that it mastered my Cowardise, and that natural re∣straint which alwaies (to my great shame) kept me in awe.

I came to one of the Comedians

and asked him whither they went? he told me to Madrid; are you, re∣plyed I, to Act as many times there? He laughed at me, and said, there, Friend, are two Come∣dies every day, and many times half a dozen, with those acted in particular houses. I already had knowledge that Madrid was the chiefest Town of Spain, but I knew not wherein it was so, or what did illustrate it, because I had never been out of Odòn, nei∣ther had I ever had any desire that my Uncle should let me go out of it; when I heard that in Madrid they had of that every day, and afterwards knew that it was but there hard by; I thought I was very near Heaven, and cursed my for∣tune that had for sixteen years de∣prived me of seeing a place where▪ there are two Comedies every day, and many times half a dozen in

particular houses. I then purposed to say to Death when he should come with the Writ of Execution, to do it on my Life, that there wanted yet sixteen years, because those which are imputed to me that I lived in Odon, was not to live, nor any thing like it. What, is it possible, thought I, that any one can live among these Barbarians, that have not two Comedies eve∣ry day, and many times six in par∣ticular honses? This I repeated e∣very moment in my Imaginati∣on.

It afterwards happened that the imprisonment of that Gentleman who was in the Castle still conti∣nuing, there came men of very pleasant conversation, and Ladies of courtly behaviour to visit him; I went up and down there amongst them, being become all Eyes, as if I would discover a new World,

I made a friendship with a Page of my own years, a very straight one▪ out of a covetousness that he should inform me concerning those things. He told me, that those with whom his Master past away the time, decei∣ving the sadness of his imprison∣ment, were men that had studied good learning, and that made ver∣ses, and such Comedies as not long since had been acted there; and that they also writ Books of enter∣tainment, of which I already had knowledge. I asked him if they were of Madrid, and those Ladies: He told me yes. I asked also, with much simplicity, if in Madrid the Cavaliers used to keep so many wo∣men. And even the Rogues too, said he, keep as many as they can get, with their industry, or with their mony. That, I told him, I had read of the great Turk. Friend, said he, he keeps them as his own

Wives, these do not. So much the better, said I, much more plea∣sant seems this manner of Gusto to me: The great Turk surely knows not how to solace himself with so much ease. When I knew that in Madrid they had Comedies, inge∣nious men, delicate and beautiful women, and that without the trouble of Marriage they were per∣mitted, at the expence of mony or industry; I could not resist this desire, but yielded up my arms to it, and resolved that my departure should be very suddainly.

Now knowing that it was not enough to go to Madrid, unless mony went with me; because the poor man lives exposed to all mise∣ries in the streets. I fell to plot∣ting how to go to Madrid in a good Condition.

My Father sent by every Fleet, about four hundred Crowns to

the Curate my Uncle, for the char∣ges which he supposed were laid out on me, in maintaining me at the University of Salamanca, stu∣dying the faculty of the Laws; a thing which he had often recom∣mended by several Letters; to which my Uncle answered, that although I was still a Fool, yet he hoped that in a short time he should civilize me a little more; because I should not be there the mock and laughing stock of all. At this time came the Fleet and the four hundred Crowns; me thought it was pity that he should be paid with so much liberality, who bred me up with so much misery; And as a strong desire, never wants ar∣guments to set it forward; it see∣med to me but a Case of Resti∣tution, to take from him that which came for my self, so I did; and with regard to my opinion,

for even to steal, it is good to have the opinion of being a Fool.

My Uncle put his breeches where he kept the key of the mony, un∣der his pillow; when he there∣fore was in bed, it was impossible to open the Cabinet without mani∣fest danger; wherefore the con∣trivance was thus.

About two a Clock in the night, it being very dark, I rose with great silence, and opened the Door of the street, and all the rest, to that where the Curate was; and afterwards being come to my bed, I began to cry, Sir, Uncle, Sir, Uncle, Thieves, Thieves! He wakes, and hearing the noise, in a moment jumps into the Floor, ta∣king a sword which he had on the Beds tester, and being amazed, asked, where doest thou hear them? Where are they? At the street∣door they make a noise, said I.

With this he hastens to the street door, which was not near, telling me that I should rise and light a Candle. All this while my Cozen slept.

I searched the pockets, took the key of the Cabinet, where the Four hundred Crowns were new∣ly come; and finding them in a purse, I left the Cabinet open; then although I felt the Candle, I went not to light it, till I had first laid up in security the purse of my Joy, my life, and all my remedy. The Curate having found the Doors open, fell, in the first place, to shutting that of the street, and lock∣ing of it, and the key being then on the inside, he took it out of the lock, thinking the Thief was with∣in, and that with this he should hinder his passage out, and catch him with the theft in his hands: then cryed out, Boy, bring hither

the Candle, bring the light. I came down with it, and found him with his back against the street-door, in a fighting posture cutting and slashing the Air, and calling out, Sacrilegious Rogues, the Curate; must you rob the Curate, Sacrile∣gious Villains?

When the light was brought, come hither Perico, said he, follow me, let us go visit every Room by its self in order; so we did; and went locking them all, till we came where the theft had been done; when he saw the Cabinet open, he was almost dead, and fell into a cold sweat, as if they had taken a∣way his blood; and no marvel, for mony is the bloud of the Life, without which no man is able to breath: At last, after he had a good while considered the robery, he said, 'Tis done, we are come too late; then came to the Drawer,

and seeing the Purse wanting, cryed, All's lost; I durst have sworn it; the Thieves are already gone; that was the noise thou heardst at the door.

Let us go to the Alcàlde, that he may take our Testimony concer∣ning the Substance of the crime: But now I think on't, stay thou in the house, and lock the door on the inside, lest it should be the Devil, and in the mean time should re∣turn for more; with this he went, and I shewed some resentment at the Accident. The Justice com∣ing presently, did what is usual in such Cases, and afterwards went their ways.

I let some days pass over, and one morning that appeared very chearful and pleasant, from which might be gathered a happy Omen, my hearts side being comforted with the Purse, I took my way

towards Madrid, thinking on the new way of Living, which Heaven offered me; And that which gave me the greatest trouble, was the Sirname of Hernandez, which I inherited of my Parents, and that Pedro Hernandez sounded like a Fool on a Stage: I remembred me that I was more indebted to my Frown than to my Father, since by it I had enjoyed so quiet a Life; therefore purposed always to call my self Pedro Ceñudo.

I went into Madrid at the Gate called Puerta de La Vega, and came straight up to the little Market place of San Salvadòr, where see∣ing a confused number of people, I asked what they were; they told me Alguazils and Scivanos (or Bay∣liffs and Attorneys): It grieved me already to think I was come where there was so much Justice. Sinner that I am, said I, we could

not live in our Town, only for ha∣ving one Scivano in it: How shall I live here, where there are so ma∣ny?

A little farther as I came to the Puerta de Guadalaxara, I met the Page with whom I had contracted the friendship in Odòn. He was very glad to see me: I told him that I had had a falling out with the Curate, and was come from him, with intention to live in the Court. Thou comest in good time, replyed he, for at a certain place, they have intreated me to seek them out a Page; if thou hast a mind to be one, thou wilt be in a good way to live. I considered on his Coun∣sel, and it seemed to me not ill: for although I brought with me, good store of money, yet that would easily waste, if I should live un∣provided, and it was best keeping it till a time of necessity, to help at a dead lift.

He carried me, at my request, to the Roperia; I bought there a Suite and Cloke of black Searge; then we came to a Shop, where they sold Starched Ruffes and Cuffes, these I also bought, and made my self more Gallant then Narcissus, for Narcissus never wore a starched Ruff; from that time I knew that mony was the most powerful thing of the World: and that it supplied the defects of Na∣ture, since a man that came so Ru∣stick, as he that had been bred up amongst the Beasts of the Field, in an instant, by vertue of this great Prince, was Gallant, full of Air, and Courtly.

He then carried me to be seen, to my Master, who was an Arro∣gonian Gentleman, large of stature, and in years, but short of sight: He was married to a young Lady of about sixteen, and came to

Court to pretend for a Title; now to qualifie himself the better, took great care about the Number and Ornament of those that served him; and seeing me well clad, and of an Aspect as severe as an * 1.10 Alcàlde of the Court: This Lad, saies he, looks not amiss: Whence art thou? Native of Madrid, answered I: then, said he, thou art no Fool; as though Fools could not be born in Madrid. He would have treated about my Sallary; but I, not well understanding it, said, Trouble not your self, Sir, concerning that, for I esteem it a sufficient interest, to honour my self with the Title of your Servant. You shall see here that my knowing little was of pro∣fit to me in this, for the good Gentleman, obliged by the courte∣sie, took an affection to me, and gave me what I had need of, with a liberal hand; whereas if I had

made a positive bargain as the others did, he had given me the bare Salary of the rest, who had not wherewithall to buy shooes.

New cloathes, and the occasi∣on awakened in me, I know not what Divine lights, that made me admire my own self. I went to kiss my Mistress hands, and found in her the liking as in her husband; she asked me some questions, which I briefly and mysteriously satisfied; always shewing in the blushings of my face, the honesty and modesty of my Nature.

My Master being a * 1.11 Pretendient, stayed not much at home, which I liked but ill, for he would suffer neither Page nor Lacquay to stay at home, thinking he lost his No∣bility in losing the sight of any one of us. See what the Honours of the World are, and the Osten∣tation which gives credit to me∣rits,

which are to be adorned with little slovenly Lacquays and Pages; from that time I began to Philoso∣phize.

How is it possible, thought I, that all can passe by this madness, and can take for merit and pledge of Estimation, that which is ano∣thers; and from so nigardly and froward a Mistress as Fortune, a woman, in fine, covetous and va∣riable, that at the first distaste, cries, This is mine, give me it a∣gain.

We went sometimes all the day long, following his horse, and I said within my self, whither suf∣ferest thou thy self to be carried? thou followest a beast, there needs no other proof, that thou shalt ne∣ver come to good. At other times my Pretendient went out in his Coach, and although there was room enough to spare, for us four

Pages in the Boots, he would not give us that honour, not to go without that which we gave him, walking a foot round his Coach, with our Green Liveries, like Foot∣boys of the Pageant Giants, which are carried in procession.

I rested not in the nights, for the greatest part of them I was imployed in carrying Notes and Messages to this and the other No∣ble-man, a thing insufferable for my humour, by reason of the nice difficulties which used to be at the Doors of these People, and for the Ceremony which their presence u∣seth to oblige; I could not endure that, of making me dance per force, with so much reverence, and crin∣ging of my whole Body * 1.12: Since that the unregarded kneeling to one of these neglectful Grandees, who for not turning his Eyes, will keep a man cursing with Devotion:

Which ill fortune remained with me so long as the opinion of being wise. The Devil put it into my head to appear so, and to be a Graduate: For confident of this, my Master sent me on all messages, that I rested not quiet a moment. I then turned Fool again, and was fortunate; the manner was strange.

One night very late, being wea∣ry, as I used to be, my Master had writ a Letter, to send by the Post, but being called away to Supper, he said to me, Close thou this Let∣ter, put upon it the Superscripti∣on, and carry it to the Post of * 1.13 Ar∣ragòn, for it imports me very much. He went to supper, and I staid rea∣ding the Letter, which seemed to me to be of Love; for after many tender expressions, he sent to tell a woman, that by all means she should come to see him, for by

reason of his business he could not be absent from home. In the Mar∣gin he put the name of the per∣son to whom he writ, as he ordi∣narily used to do, and therefore told not me what I should put in the Superscription: supposing that I would perceive that it was for a Sister of his, by the name which he had left written.

Near our precinct was a Lady of Pleasure, one of those that re∣ceive visits, a person so great a friend of her servants, that she could not live unless they left her some pledge of their passion, whereby she might adore their memories: To be plain, she was a most impu∣dent hackney Jade, was of Arragòn: and called in mockery the Post of Arragòn. I seeing a Love-Letter and for the Post of Arragòn, thought that without doubt, it was for her; so sealed it, but

would not write a Superscription, it seemed to me a madness to put one upon an amorous paper.

I carried it to the Post, she ask∣ed me whose it was; I told her a Gentlemans of Arragòn, whose name came in the Paper, she o∣pened it very amorously, and read it thus:

My Dear,

TO make me most happy, there needs no more than that thou wilt have it so; and thou wilt shew it, in coming to see me: the way is short, and I would to God that I were free from business, then I assure thee, I would go to thee every day: there shall not be wanting any thing to plea∣sure thee, when thou wilt come to make joyful this thy House: And be∣cause I hope shortly to see thee, I do not give thee any account of other cares of greater moment. God preserve thee, &c. Madrid.

She was very much pleased at the courtesie of the paper, and desi∣rous to comply with what it requi∣red, she asked me if that might be a good opportunity, I told her, Yes: Because my Master shew∣ed a great desire that she should come at the instant that he sent me to call her. She made me sit down in a Chair, and calling a Servant that was half a Tawny-moor, she went into an inner Chamber, where she trick'd her self up in her Silver∣laced Wastcoat, her Mantle em∣broidered with Gold, and all her mundus muliebris; and afterwards, taking her Maid by the hand, and seeing but with half an Eye through her Veil, we came to my Masters House. I went in first to prepare him, and finding him at Supper with his Wife, I whispered him in the Ear, and said to him, Now, Sir, the Post of Arragòn is here.

What dost thou say? replyed he. That I have brought her here, said I, beautiful as a thousand pieces of Gold: The good old man knew not that there was so pleasing a Post; for he thought they had all been bearded, and understood me not, making me a thousand questi∣ons, nor did I understand him. In fine I said to him, Come forth, Sir, for she expects you in your Chamber, and it is not courtesie to keep her so long: She tarried less in dressing her self than your Wor∣ship in rising from your Chair.

Up gets the good old man, bles∣sing himself, and coming down to a Room which he had near the Entry, well furnished, he found in it the Post, a young Cirle of a good countenance, much gentleness in her Eyes, and sweetness in her Cheeks, all smiling and pleasant∣ness: Who holding the Paper in

her hand, and having made her courtesie to him that was astonished at the Novelty; she said to him, Sir, for you to command one, who esteems it so great a happiness to be yours; What needed so cour∣teous a paper? Any message is suf∣ficient, wherein you command me to serve you. The old man appre∣hending the error which happened, and rejoycing in his heart at it, longed (in good earnest) to be ma∣king much of her, and accounted the mistake for lucky.

My Mistress who had noted the secret which I told him at Table, and that he had risen up in a sur∣prize from it, was somewhat troubled, and sent a Chamber-maid to watch him, who related both what she did see, and what she did not see: My Master, said she, hath got a Mistress, and Perico is the Pimp, she's the bravest

wench in the whole Town; by my Faith, he is not so liberal to you as he is to her: This old Do∣tard, what a Golden Mantle he ha's given her, and a Silver Wast∣coat! The good man seems young again. This you deserve for your foolishness, but hereafter you will learn more cunning, being served by so many Gentlemen as you are. Presently you'l be saying; Alas, my Husband, how I love thee! An ill fire light on the best of him, who would think that his years were not sufficient to make him asha∣med? Pray, consider if this be so, what will a young beardless Husband be? A mischief on the Bride that shall be married, these are no times to put trust in any body: By the Age of my Mother, Mistress, because I saw him so cold with you, I had thought he had forgot his Love toys with his Age; a

curse upon him; for, by my truth, they are not forgotten with those whom he loves well.

The poor Gentlewoman at this was ready to have lost her senses, but seeing what a shameful thing it would be for her self, if it should be known, how that a rotten old man despised her for, a foolish young wench, she dissembled it, with the greatest mildness she could, pre∣tending not to understand it, and made show to the Maid, as though she did not believe her.

Away went the Post, and my Master, calling me, chid me, but I satisfied him, telling him my cre∣dulity; and since it had been no ill bout for him, he passed it by, purposing to hold me from thence forward, in the opinion of a Fool. Therefore took from me the Pa∣pers and other businesses in my cu∣stody, fearing some other folly

of greater consequence.

You see me here eased already, only for one folly: What should I have been, if I had done ma∣ny? Thus when Fortune consi∣dered that I was a Fool, she be∣gan to look upon me with a milder countenance, and to treat me as a friend, for my resemblance of her.

My Mistress was mollified, by the addresses, cares, importunities, and subtilties of a Noble-man, who with equal power and cauti∣on served her; She suffered his Courtship, received his Presents, his Comedies and his Treats, only that she might not be thought clownish; she answered his Notes, not to be discoruteous; finally, she liked the young man well, be∣cause she liked the old man ill. And accounting me for secret, wise, and a dissembler; and graduating

me with the Pimpship of her Hus∣band, she desired him that he would give leave that I might be imployed in her Service, her mes∣sages, and waiting on her; and that the Page which she, till then, had kept for this, might serve him in my stead; my Master was glad at the trucque, and struck the bar∣gain, as one that swops away a horse.

After a few days service of my new Commandress I was called a∣side by a Dueña, or Governess, into a room alone, peeping in every cor∣ner, to see if no body heard us: I observing her behaviour, conclu∣ded that, for certain, she would give me a Schooling for the passed pimping. The reverend Matron, with her Pontificial habit, a Her∣mit-like Rosary about her Neck, a little book of Devotion in her hand, and a pair of large spectacles

on her nose, took me by the arm, and said, Although honest men have no need of being admonished, that they should be so, because their nature stands prompting them to it; yet for all this, they often slide into many errours, by not knowing the way: This, my Son, I will now teach you: You are in a very principal and honourable House, and till now have served the Master of it; but the neglects which are committed with them, are not so notable as those which are committed with Ladies; you serve my Mistress, mind me what I say, you must bend to her de∣sires, you must accomplish her will; for those who serve must not dispute, whether that which is com∣manded be just or not, that is more for Church-men then Pages: If you would do discreetly, and for your own good, you need no o∣ther

Loadstone then Obedience, and Secresie: Obey, friend, and be silent, if you would be obeyed another day; you see many in these Streets that are served well, only because they have served well.

My Mistress knows you to be loyal, and secret, because you have been so with your Master, and al∣though this hath been to her pre∣judice, She esteems you for it, as it is reason, considering that you also will be faithful with her henceforward, being her Page.

There serves my Mistress (you must know) a Noble-man of this Court, a Person powerful and libe∣ral; She is a woman ill matched, and owes some gratitude to the Love of this Prince (and telling me his title) you are to carry him (said she) this Paper, which is the Answer of another of his, and the reward which he shall give, will

advertise you whether it be good to serve with secresie or no; and because it is not convenient to be telling you of it always, from henceforth I forewarn you, that all the errands which shall be given you for my Mistresses Cozen, you must carry to the Earl; and this is enough for the first lesson. I gave her thanks for the good documents, and carried the Paper.

There I perceived how preju∣dicial a Fool is, since by my folly that Gentlewoman came to cease being so, by becoming jealous and revengeful to her Husband. Foo∣lishness in men is like poyson in poysonous creatures, of which the Naturalists write, that it never does hurt to themselves, but to o∣thers; I wax'd fat with my follies, and others are destroyed by them: Here I also observed, that the folly and lightness of married women

was for the most part learnt of their husbands; for, as Pliny saies in his Panigerick to Trajane, they esteem it an honour to imitate their Husbands.

Married friend that most nights leavest thy Wife, and goest to seek anothers; do not confide in that thy Wife is very obedient, for e∣ven for that reason she may imitate thee with more facility. What a pleasant life did I lead in my new Office! The first Pages of the World; those that took up this occupation by their own choyce, and not by use, as now adays, and that too, for want of other im∣ployment; they, I say, were allu∣red by this prosperity of Pages: Let us speak plain (I mean) of Pim∣ping: The Page that is not a Pimp, is not a Page, but a meer pretender to it. This is the greatest good fortune, to this are all his desires

steared. The Page that thou shalt see well, clad, brisk, and full of mo∣ney, has already attained to his perfection; the other poor tatter∣de-mallions are still in their Sack∣cloth. How many Playes was I carried to? What sport did I see? At what splendid feastings was I present? How much Gold had I given me? What acquaintance did I gain? and from whence came all this good fortune to me, but only for having the reputation of a Fool! My Mistress thought that I had understood nothing of what I saw, and therefore confided all in me, as though she did not con∣fide in me at all.

At this time there happened to me a very pleasant accident, which was on this manner. The Gentle∣man of the Horse had a spight to a pretty Lady of a certain mid∣dle humour, betwixt grave and

airy: He had treated her as a re∣spectful Lover, and made her hands sparkle with certain Dia∣monds, in which his foolishness was resplendent: And coming a few days before this time, with the caution which he thought conve∣nient, he catched her napping with a Noble-man; another night returning, he found her with ano∣ther; at this he was swoln with such honourable Jealousies, that he was ready to have burst, there∣fore contrived this revenge.

He intreated me to put on my Masters richest sute of clothes, which was in his custody, and that accompanied by the rest of the Pages of the House, I should go visit her, feigning my self an Earl, and that I should rifle from her as much as I could by handsome wayes; for she was a woman who not only trusted her

Jewels to Genlemen, but her self also; which without scruple she delivered up to them. Now I considered that being so grave, she would not be willing that the first visit should be made by night, we therefore were of agreement that it should be by day, and in my Masters Coach, who was then three Leagues from Madrid, seeing the Sister which he writ to, when I call'd the Post; but the Gentle∣man of the Horse charged me, that above all I should feign my self a Fool, because this foolish greedy woman would confide the more in me.

In this Equipage we came to her House; I, very gallant, in the chief end of the Coach, and the Pages waiting upon me; bad them say that the Earl of Rapina was there, they having first given notice, we enter in; I made my congies little

and measured, sate me down, and without speaking a word, st••••d viewing her from top to toe; and do you think this was the action of one in Love? No such thing, I as∣sure you; it was a project, as you shall presently hear.

I beheld her, and considered, How is it possible, thought I, that so good a Face should have such wicked Ends? That so beau∣tiful a head should be so empty? What a sottishness it is for us to run mad after beauty? I always thought that they had esteemed good faces, because they promise perfection in all the rest, as well of the Body as of the Soul: For Nature in nothing dealt so kindly with men, as in putting in their faces a Superscription, which tells the disposition of every one: By it is known any whosoever. The Frowner, like me, stands saying

with his face, Take heed of me, for I am discontented and ill con∣ditioned: The Cheerful one saith, I am all pleasantness and goodness: The Swarthy and tawny complexi∣on, that he hath a course Soul: The high coloured and bright hai∣red, that he is desparate. From hence then arose her estimation for beauty, but well looked upon, it should not, since we see that a beautiful woman, as this, who (for certain) was so in extre∣mity, was both false and mad; false with my Gentleman of the Horse, and mad with me, as you shall see.

She was troubled to see my a∣mazement, and I said, 'Tis she, without doubt, although she is injured in the Picture. She asked me what it was I said? I told her, That lying idle at my State of Rapina, I had sent for the Pictures

of the most beautiful women and Ladies of the Court, and that hers had so infinitely enamoured me, that I left my Lady Mother, and my good Gammons of Bacon, on∣ly to see the Original, and that it had appeared to me more perfect than the Picture. She laughed at the Lady Mother and the Gam∣mons of Bacon, and took me for a Fool; already making account that she was Lady of all Rapina: She used a world of sugred words, and expressions to me; she soothed me up, and lulled me with much gentleness and tenderness. What think you, that this wrought up∣on me? No, for although I have confessed I am a Fool, yet not that I am a Brute.

Is it possible there are those that can esteem this sort of loose wo∣men, who only make their aim at the worst and less stable thing that

we have. Three goods adorn us, of the Soul, of the Body, and of Fortune; the two first, which are discretion, and good deportment, are the most worthy, the last is not our own; this then do women court, and lay their allurements and baits to catch it; this they make much of, and for nothing do they esteem it so highly, as for its insta∣bility, since from thence it is, that it cometh to their hands with more facility; can any man esteem these their flatteries, knowing that they are not for him, but against him, and that they are saying in plain terms, thou art a Fool, and ill-fa∣voured, thy mony pleaseth me. I do not say that it is not reason, we should court the Ladies with splen∣did Liberality, for it rather is the promoter of Love than the hinde∣rer; what incenses me is, that the Interest should be the principal,

and that there is no remembring of other pledges more divine.

I assure you, upon the faith of an ill-conditioned man, that this Creature did not enamour me, but rather she troubled me so much that I shortned the Visit, letting her, with great tenderness, know how well I was pleased with some Diamond Rings which she had on her fingers, of those which are set in the fashion of Stars with many small Diamonds; and without more ado, I plucked them from off her fingers, saying, By the Life of my Mother, they shall make you as many more of this same fashion; what well made Rings they are, and how pretty they shew! What hoe, where are you? Let us away to the Jewel∣lers. With this I took leave, and she came to the door to wait upon me, with many shews of gratitude

and pleasure for this Honour, pro∣fessing her self to be much my ser∣vant. I carried my Rings to the Gentleman of the Horse, who staid for us hard by: and taking him into my Coach, gave him my side, and together shared the booty betwixt us, so ended his Court∣ship.

I then perceived that those who shew an affection to this sort of women, do it not so much for Love, as for Custome; 'tis a con∣fusion, not a wound; they do it as men hair-brained, not as those in Love. I went reprehending his ill choice, and added, My Love suc∣ceeds better with me; for I am enamoured of a young Damsel, where there is no danger of these businesses. If she does me any fa∣vour it is faithful and true, for covetousness doth not teach her to counterfeit: If she does me none,

'tis not contempt of me, because I suppose that she doth it but to keep the decorum which is due, and I have hopes too that she dis∣sembles a love: But I have none of these infamous Jealousies, for I stand secure on her merits, that yield not up themselves on easie terms.

The Doctor Ceñudo was much pleased at the recital of this his a∣morous enterprize, expecting great applause from Don Felix, and looking upon him with attention to see how he commended it, per∣ceived he was fallen asleep. The Historian being displeased at this neglect, pretended not to under∣stand that it was a sleep, and know∣ing he was sometimes troubled with a pain at his heart, which was wont to make him faint, he took a bason of water, saying, Bless us! Heaven deliver thee!

threw it all in his face. Don Felix awaked, and seeing that he had taken it for a swound, thought it a great happiness to have found this excuse for his unmannerliness; and feeling himself very wet, and all the Labyrinth of his Ruff spoyled, he gave him thanks, saying, that he found himself not well, and went away promising to return the day following. He complyed with his word, fully determining not to sleep, and after having repea∣ted the account, the Doctor went on with his History.

CHAP. III. He prosecutes his History, and relates what hapned to him in the Court being a Page, and his various Successes in Salamanca.

THis manner of Platonick Love, these pleasant con∣ceipts, and these amorous inclinations, confirmed me more in the reputation of a Fool: for men generally are so much ena∣mour'd of their own parts, that they judg for ill and ridiculous all that which they see not in themselves: Now there was none that Loved after this method as I did. Of force then, they must blame it for ill

contrived and foolish: The Gen∣tleman of the Horse laughed at what he should have admired: I praysed to him the caution and wariness with which my Mistress suffered her self to be seen; and I celebrated her disdains, being more satisfied with them than if they had been favours, telling him that that was a thing extraor∣dinary in a woman of her deport∣ment and quality.

The Gentleman of the Horse, that was a merry fellow, said, What will Señor Ceñudo lay with me, that if he goes this evening to see her, in that pomp and state which he now goes in, and makes her believe that all these riches came with the Fleet sent by his Father (a thing easie to be believed, since they knew that I had a Father in the Indies, and in no ordinary imploy∣ment) that she becomes not ply∣able,

flatters him, and humbly corresponds with his desires. I should be ashamed, answered I, to lay wagers on impossibilities: But let us go now and make tryal, with all my heart, if you please. We went then, and sending in a Page before to tell them that I was there, The Joy of mine Eyes pee∣ped at a low Grate window, and saw me, but did not yet know me, till I begged leave to kiss her hands, she knew the voyce, came forth surprised, and by the Page enformed her self of the Novelty; he that was already charmed in the lye, painted me very rich, and my Father President of the Cana∣ries or some such thing. Out comes the Mother and Daughter to re∣ceive us, we enter with a world of complements: they were astonished at the greatness, not knowing if they should stile me Lordship or

Worship: At last my Damsell de∣termined to call me Thou, with much tenderness and endearments; we were seated first in high chairs, but she bad me sit down upon a Cushion by her side, because she would see me nearer: Then took me by the hands, and praised the Diamonds, I assisted my self by my folly, not to give her them, by not saying they were at her ser∣vice; for although it is a fault for a man to fall into the opinion of being a Fool, it is much greater to fall into that of being covetous, and so I had the fortune to escape the latter, by falling into the for∣mer. She cheerfully and smiling∣ly took my hand into hers, not to tell me my good fortune, but to think that she had it very sure.

Ever and anon the Gentleman of the Horse, (whom I then cal∣led Cozen) looked upon me, and

at every look fetched fresh blushes into my cheeks, to see how glad he was to have made that tryal. I asked for water, they brought me some, as also great variety of sweet meats, all sowre to me: so much Mistress was Shame over me, that it suffered me not to reach what she brought me in her hands, which the Baggage thought I did out of my dulness and fol∣ly.

We then take our leaves, having been well treated, she desiring me very earnestly, that I would see her again that night, that I would not make my self a stranger there, nor with my new fortune forget the Love which I owed her; with these and such like follies she ac∣companied us to the Door (a new courtesie in Ladies) and the Mo∣ther made great offers to my Co∣zen, of I cannot tell what, and

told him (whilst we were talking by our selves) of the Dowry of her Daughter, of her Quality, and other things which savour'd of Ma∣trimony.

My Cozen, when we saw our selves alone, had no mercy on me with his scoffing reproaches, and I was so much ashamed, & astonished to see that all were alike, that I yielded up my Love, as he who knew, that neither the first dis∣dain had been made to me, but to my Poverty; nor the last fa∣vour obtained in honour of my person, but of my fortune; so foolish had I been in her Love, that I esteemed her contempts as the credit of her value, and used to say within my self: This is that which ought to be esteemed; This is Glory.

But I served my self of their courtesie, and vifited them some∣times

by night, very fine with my coloured Cloak, and Hat like a Spark, and my gilded Sword; all which belonged to the Gentleman of the Horse, who was much plea∣sed to see me begin to plot my re∣venge.

A great while it was that I en∣joyed all that which the strict Re∣ligion of Virginity permits; many excellent treats, and some favours of value. Observe but the mad∣ness of Women, who (only for ha∣ving an opinion that I was rich, though I had never given them a∣ny thing, but rather received ma∣ny from them) esteemed me so highly, that they knew not what to make of me.

By this time the cunning Gypsey suspected that I must needs be up to the Ears in Love with her: For they could not imagine that a man, so much a Fool as I, could lye or

dissemble, with so much confi∣dence.

Now, although I understood that she bare me some Love, yet would I not make any return: Because I knew that Feast was not made re∣ally to me, but to the false Riches, which they imagined came to me from the Indies: And therefore I remitted the gratitude to them. I then grew very formally angry, and said within my self; How is it possible that these kind of women can be so foolish, as to love what is not, nor cannot be; and despise that which hath being and value? That thus, can love in me what I have not, and despise what I have? With opportunity and converse I began to set aside shame, in regard it is the opinion of wise men, that it is an ill companion for the passa∣ges of Love; and spoke to her now as a Master, never mentioning

those heretical love-toys which I was accustomed to do, when I was more a Fool; I remembred me, that she was a woman of flesh and bone, be∣cause I beheld her near; and at the same instant that I, being incen∣sed against her, did contemn her, she made her self contemptible; and at the same instant that I ac∣counted her a Fool, she fooled her self.

I learned then, how important it is for a man to be a Fool, to en∣joy his Love; for whilst I was dis∣creet, whilst I knew how to ob∣serve the respect which all under∣standing men should observe to Love, I contented my self with wind and smoak, and yet got the opinion of being a mad man: But after I became a Fool in strictness, and discreet according to the o∣pinion of the world, I obtained what I would, being called and

intreated to it, like a witness to a last Will.

Without doubt we are in the fault of the pride of women, our esteem gives them estimation, our respect makes them look for it: For as all are highly credulous, and chiefly in flatteries give us be∣lief, thinking, for certainty, that they are what we paint them, and merit the reverence and honour which we pay them; so they e∣steem themselves, for that which we esteem them: What greater e∣vidence of their credulity, then that so soon as they have made an end of putting on a new face, when, seeing their own handy-work in the looking-glass, they believe that that white and red colour is their own, and brought with them out of their mothers belly? We may be confident that they believe it, for if they did not, they would

not make such estimation of themselves as they do. The best way is to despise them, for he that most respects and adores them, bears arms against himself: There want not some, who say, that that which made Narcissus mad, and de∣sperate, was not his beauty, but the flattery of a Nymph: What greater advantage of thy Beauty, then to see thy self solicited for it, with so many endearments? The Fountain could not say so much to him, it rather told him that it was a fading flower, and easily subject to miscarriages.

I found many nights afterwards, other visits of several Gallants with her, but passed by all without be∣ing jealous, a thing that gave me letters of favour, that she should wish me for her Husband; nay A∣varice too availed me for this; for listening once, I heard her Mo∣ther

praise me, saying: This man, my Daughter, is for our turns; This is one that knows how to keep his estate, and not spend it amongst lewd women, since loving thee so dearly, he hath never shown any signe of Prodigality: Well fare the Mother that bare him, for he pleases me, & not these Sweet-meat Gallants, who with two Farthing∣worth of Scholarship, four Comple∣ments, eight Courtesies, and six∣teen Flatteries, all learnt as the knowledge of a Parrat, by having heard others say them, without knowing themselves what they say, would have us believe that they are very Eagles, and then suffer their Feathers to be pulled like Pi∣geons.

I having come so often near the Fire, by this time grew a little hea∣ted, and began to treat of Marri∣age, she thinking that in that word

was brought to her all the Indies: In exchange of it gave me many Corals, Pearls, Cristals, Silver and Gold, and yet it seemed to her, that she came short: Love did then ut∣terly forsake me, so great a number of toying fooleries glutted me, so much sweetness relaxed me, ano∣ther would have eaten his fingers after it, but the Palats of men are almost as different as their counte∣nances.

My Master, intending to go out to the * 1.14 Prado, one Sunday with more state then usual, because his Majesty that day was to come down to the Dukes Garden, would needs have all the Servants of the House to wait upon him, as well my Mistresses as his own; I went amongst them, and coming to the Covent of the Cl••rigos

Menores, I saw two women, veiled with weaved smoak, and Clouds of Silk, so thin were their Mantles and head coverings; they looked upon me earnestly, and I account∣ing my self happy in passages of Love, began to think that they were taken with something in me; whereat I being infinitely glad, walked stately, and let my Masters Coach pass forward, and the ill company of the Pages, endeavou∣ring not to appear one of them; but it was impossible, because I carried the brand which clave to my whole body in the Livery. The Devil invented this fashion, I had rather have carried a Penitential Coller, for that might be concea∣led under the Ruffs which they use now a days, but a Livery that on all sides of it makes proclamation that it is anothers, there is nothing can conceal it.

I drew nearer them, looking very pleasantly, and said to them: The Prize is yours, my Ladies, sheath your arrows, for on him that yields up himself so soon they are but lost; and so was running on with much Courtship, not fit for modest and vertuous women, but such as is u∣sed to those that are loose and wan∣ton, they held their peace, and looked upon me, one of them whispering to the other now and then, and sighing: 'Tis done, as I live thought I, the wench sighes for me, and shall they hereafter find fault with Plays, which intro∣duce a Lady that falls in Love with a handsom Gentleman newly arrived, at the first sight, since I a poor Page, and in a Livery, it being now, at least, four years since I have trotted up and down the Streets of Madrid, and this wo∣man stands sighing for me, me

thought that shame detained them; I therefore began to tempt her with Roguery, showing that ex∣cellent faculty I had in it, as know∣ing already by experience, that that looking another way steers di∣rectly forward in these adven∣tures.

Still the veiled Ladies held their tongues, with which they enamou∣red me n••t a little, for Love is the Son of admiration, and there is none greater than to see two women siient so long time; at last the most brisk and airy of them, putting out a hand from under her veil, which might have affronted the snow for whiteness, made me a sign with it, that I should follow them, and took their way towards the most unfrequented part of the up∣per Prado. I followed them more joyful then Medoro when he tri∣umphed over the fair Angelica,

cursing my destiny that since it had made me so fortunate in my A∣mours, it had not given me where∣withall to be grateful.

Being now come to the privatest place of those Groves, they making a stand, I drew near to her with the talking hands that gave me the signe, and came almost to joyn my face to hers, but at the instant she catching me fast hold with one hand by my Ear, began with the other most furiously to maul me, giving me many Cuffs and buffets, whilst her companion armed with the two woods of her * 1.15 Chappines, which she had taken from her feet, showr'd such a storm of blows a∣bout my Ears, and whole body, as left me half dead: In the skir∣mish, she that had laid on with the greatest eagerness, discovered her face, so that I knew her to be the Liberal Damsel, who, finding the

imposture of my Pagick Indies, took that desperate course, and perceiving now that she was known, they unsheathed their tongues, and with them gave me many wounds in my honour; I would have satisfied them, but it was impossible; for they rayled so violently, that by any means they would not suffer me to utter a word. I fell on my knees, told them many stories, made my pre∣tence of the Errors of Love, and that Love equals all, and other follies of this kind: but neither did conceits profit me, nor humi∣lities, for returning to maul me a∣fresh, at last, they went away wea∣ried, but not satisfied; threatning me, that the Morsel should cost me my life.

I unwound the wheel of my Love, after seeing the Chappins, and now began to grow out of con∣ceit

with the place too, finding that the best which it afforded was stark naught.

It happened a few daies after this, that my Master making one of those Journeys from home, which he was wont to do, the * 1.16 Dueña or Governess called me aside, and gave me a paper for my Mistresses Gallant, charging me, that I should be watchful that night, because the Earl was to come to see her, and that I should open him the Door. I promised to do it, car∣ried the paper, and received for a reward a Chain of Gold, with which the Earl put me into new Fetters. Now though I was natu∣rally free, ill conditioned, and one that could not brook the seeing things that were undecent; yet this mettal, which by being Son of the Sun, seeming to have its Em∣pire from its Father, did wrest my

disposition, and subjected me as a Slave.

Night came, and my Folly drew me out of this danger, which, with∣out doubt, was great: The folly was, I had a mind to shew my Mi∣stress that I knew the Straights in which her honour passed, think∣ing by this means I should gain her favour, and that she would esteem me, and treat me better; knowing that the life of her re∣putation was in my Tongue. Sure∣ly though the pleasures of Love should have no other sharpness more then this, of being subject to a malitious Page, and deceitful Governess, it would be occasion e∣nough to make us forsake them, without giving them any fare∣well.

I came with much Eloquence, and told her the Joy in which the Earl remained to see himself so

near the Port of his hope. This was news to her, nor could she understand me 'till after she had made a strict enquiry of me, who it was that had given me the Pa∣per, she fell into account, that it was the imposture of the Dueña, who had bargained to sell her that night, being greedy of the Gifts, which with an amorous, that is to say, liberal hand, the Earl had given her. She asked me if I had formerly carried other Notes or Messages, I told her infinite, and that the Dueña had given me them all; whereat she made a thousand Crosses, being extreamly troubled, and said, So, So, you are he that counterfeited the Fool, and she the same that pretetended Sanctity; You have brought me to a fine pass, but, upon my Faith, I have a Husband that will know how to chastize you. Much a do she had

to utter these words, in such man∣ner had anger possessed her breast; wherefore retiring to her Bed∣chamber, she left me there in great confusion with the payment that such bad Services deser∣ved.

I was astonished at the Trick that the Dueña had put upon me, for a Dueña was only able to fool a man so. This Creature, full of vain ostentation, proves unfaith∣ful always, with whatsoever comes to hand: From that time, I be∣gan to abhor those kind of wo∣men; there are no people so de∣ceitful, nor of such vile thoughts. And nothing angers me so much as that they should be so ill, under the dress and Cloak of Devotion. They think not of any other thing, then how they may sell the young daughter which the Mother hath committed to their Governance:

Or the new married wife, which the Husband has entrusted them with: 'Tis needful to have a watchful eye over them, for they are very close Bawds, not like that * 1.17 Celestina, who by the rents of her Veil discovered her Office: Who the Devil inven∣ted that dress for them, since they are not all Widdows? Their de∣ceit invented it; and to deceive us they put it on.

How brittle is the honour of wo∣men, that neither sufficeth it to be well born; neither sufficeth the splen∣dour of their breeding, nor the Ornament of a noble Husband: All is broken in the hands of a co∣vetous Dueña; who thinking that all are as ill as she was when she could be so: They imagine that they do them a kindness when they are injuring them, and pro∣mise in their name filthy fol∣lies.

I revenged my self of the Dueña much to my satisfaction: For it being now late, and she gone to bed betimes, thinking to rise at two of the Clock in the night, which was the appointed hour for the meeting: I put on a Farrenden Cloak, came into her Chamber, and to her bed side, where she lay alone, rusling my Silks, and speaking with a hoarse voyce, I counterfeited the person of the Earl, took my buckled Girdle, and with severe words and hands, chastized her, much to my con∣tent, pretending to be injured; That an Earl as I, should be af∣fronted in that manner, her Mi∣stress being so Chaste and so Ho∣ly.

I then went down to the street∣door, with intent to send back the Earl, but found they had ta∣ken away the key, by the com∣mand

of my Mistress, who, not trusting to my simplicity, nor to the Sanctity of the Dueña, would keep it that night with her self, and had also locked many other Doors that were betwixt that, and her own Chamber.

I went to bed, seeing the busi∣ness was well remedied, but slept not all night long, for anger, and vexation at the accident, and to consider how uncertain the Judg∣ments of men are, and how little credit can be given, even to ones own Eyes, although they are the most faithful Sense: I had seen that she had received his Presents, and his Treats, but my Mistress knew not that they were his; for she had thought, that they had been the Entertainments of a Lady her friend, by whose hand they came. So unhappy is Beauty, that even Friendship it self practiseth

Treason with it. Let not the un∣handsom complain of being little fortunate; but let them believe me, that Beauty brings with it many cares; and payes a few false flatteries, with many true griefs.

The next morning I arose with the Day, fearful of what might be∣fall me, went to the Earl, and found that he was going to bed, complaining of his head, I, coun∣terfeiting a trouble, besought him that we might be left alone, and said to him, 'Tis well that your Lordship mocks with so much de∣spight such principal women. Sir, I come to acquaint you from my Mistress, that you have entrance granted you into her House, as well as into her Breast, and yet you come not at the appointed hour: Your Lordship should have left play for one night, with a

mischief, how much mind soever you might have had to it, you should not have dealt so discour∣teously with one that so much e∣steemed you; in a Case that may go near to cost her her life. By * 1.18 the habit I wear, replyed the Earl, I have staid there like a stone of the Porch of her House, since two a Clock inthe night: Then, said I, your Lordship hath ill fortune, for I staid waiting for you at the Door a little before that hour; and hearing a horse stop, thinking it had been your Lordship, I o∣pened the Door, and said, Is it the Earl? Your Lordship may come in, for my Mistress expects you with desire enough.

Scarce had I said this, when the Gentleman alighting (who was my Master) took me by the arm, and thrust me into the House, com∣manding a Servant that came with

him, to lock the door, then put me into his own Chamber, where, af∣ter he had given me many Scur∣ges, he pressed me that I should tell him who the Earl that I expe∣cted, was. I told him a feigned name, and that it was not any Plot of my Mistresses, but my own, and the Dueña's, who by the gifts, with which he had corrupted our Loy∣alties, had promised him the Door that night; with this he left me, conjuring me; that I should keep it secret, and went to chastize the Dueña, and know from her the rest. Your Lordship therefore runs a great hazard, if she disco∣vers it, as I fear she will.

Thou saist true, said the Earl, for she is a Woman, I have ill tru∣sted my business, and have undone my self, for the Husband being an Arrogonian and Noble, will search me out to kill me, as he

hath reason on his side, which is a great advantage: I will therefore absent my self. So he did within a few days, under pretence of seeing his Towns, and left me ac∣commodated with a Brother of his, who was to go to * 1.19 Salamànca, ve∣ry suddainly, with whom I went a Page, and took the way of dis∣cretion by meer Folly.

See here, that my being a Fool was not only profitable to me, but also the feigning my self to be one, for only my feigning that I had done so great a Folly, as go∣ing out to receive another which came on horseback, thinking it was the Earl; (as if Gallants and those so wary as he was, would have gon the rounds a horseback) avai∣led me, and I gained a new Master, which was to my great advan∣tage.

He was the second in the Earls

family, and had about sixteen thou∣sand Duckats of Ecclesiastical Re∣venue coming in yearly, yet had more Folly than Rent. Would you now have me stop here, to exclaim with ill language against Fortune, and tell her, she is mad, since she so much disdained such a Wit as the Doctor Ceñudo's, that she made him servant to a Fool, and likewise gave him the Estimation of a Fool? (for herein also the blind woman shews her malice) and to the other Coxcomb, a meer dull blockhead, she gave sixteen thousand Duckats of Benefices, as clear and simple, as he, and it may be too, a better opinion of being wise, then to me. For as Flattery is the Harbinger of Fame, he had mony wherewith to oblige her, and to hold her rea∣dy at his beck, and never spoke a Folly, which was not applauded for a high conceit.

O Riches! who would think that ye should havevalue (being so uncertain) to buy immortal Glo∣ries? Such as those which good opinion leaves bound up in famous Monuments: Now I say, that they have reason who adore you, that they are of a generous and splen∣did nature, who deliver up them∣selves in your confidence, since in it, they enjoy so high ambitions. My Friend, if you that have been bred up amongst the Vulgar, have understood that there is such a thing as Fortune, complain of her at your pleasure, either call her Destiny, or Influence of the Stars, or what you will; but I, who know that all this Celestial Har∣mony hath its Poles in the Provi∣dence of God, have already fallen into account, that whatsoever shall be distributed amongst us of goods or ills, cannot but be with a ve∣ry

great deal of Reason and Ju∣stice; and if you do not penetrate the manner, blame your own un∣derstanding, or do not blame that, but your Pride, which would call Heaven to examination: If a blind man should murmur against the darkness of the Sun, would you not say, that the fault was in his Eyes? Then why will you not say the same to him, who accuseth the neglects of Providence, in the Sun of Justice? But because you perceive that the fault is in your selves.

Do you not think that the Fool, my Master, who was born so, had most need of those sixteen thousand Duckats? Because it was of force, according to the order of the Heavens; since if he should not have had them, he had suffe∣red two most grievous detriments, which would have argued injustice:

One in being-born naked, of the chiefest goods, which are those of the Wit: The other, in that with this want, he remained also without the succour, that should help humane necessities: The Pro∣vidence then was, that in regard the most excellent goods were not given him, those should be gi∣ven him which all call goods; and since Wit was not given him, whereby to succour him∣self, Wealth should be given him, with which he should be succou∣red: But I who, thanks be to God, was born with an unbyased, and free reason, if ill tongues had not injured me, what greater goods? I that could avail my self with it, and being imployed in Offices or other exercises, could gain what my nature had need of; why should I complain, that I was

not born rich and powerful? Com∣plain you that are a Fool, yet take heed how you complain; for other complaints oblige, but these dis∣please: I am poor, and have the the opinion of a Fool; but had I the reputation of a wise man, I should not be poor: Do you therefore undertake for me, and assure me, that when I take Pen in hand, I shall know what I say, with discretion; I shall account my self for very happy; and you may go whither you will with your opinion and vain riches, for you have need enough of them.

The Earl had much credited my modesty, my wariness, and secrecy, a thing that made me my bed for my ease, in confidence of which, my Master imployed me only in matters of his pleasure: He had also commended to him my sim∣plicity, and I belyed it not with

my Frown; therefore the first Frolick which he did, in coming to Salamànca, was to make sport with my mildness, and goodness (as he called it) to his friends, to which he added, that I had now and then certain pleasant conceits, which gilded over my humour. They determined then to shew what they knew, by discovering what I was ignorant of, but I discove∣red what they were ignorant of, by showing what I knew.

There were together about a dozen of the servants of those Gen∣tlemen, my Masters Friends, that were making merry with him one night, who, wearing their Frin∣ges, Caps, and, Hoods, like a Junto of Doctors, after the Salva gi∣ven, with Trumpets and Kettle-Drums, sent a message to my Ma∣ster (I being present) wherein they told him, that in that Uni∣versity,

there was an approved custome, for a long time, that they should make a private tryal of the wit, and ability of every one that should come to learn any faculty; because former Ages, for not ha∣ving done it had fallen into many Errors: That they dispenced with his Worship, in respect of his good opinion, which had already ap∣peared in his favour; but that Pedro Ceñudo his Servant was suspe∣cted in his ability, and therefore that he would give leave he might come to examination; my Master answered, he should come with all his heart; and thanking much the Doctors that they would honour his Lodging, he received them in a spatious Room wherein all things were well prepared for the Ceremony.

The Doctors sate down in their order, as shewing that one had re∣gard

to the antiquity of the other; and after one of them had pro∣pounded with more dilated rea∣sons, the same which they had said in their message; there came two Mace-bearers for me, who set me in the middle of the Hall upon a little Form, with a lighted Torch on both sides of me, that they might be Witnesses of my shame.

Each Doctor asked me various questions, them and their answers I have written in this Paper; which, to convince the Authority of the Doctors, and strengthen the weaknesses of my opinion; I straight took care to write, put∣ting them Dialogue-wise, for short∣ness, with these two letters, M, which stands for Master, and F, for Fool; do you read it who have the best Eye-sight, and you will see how little we may trust to Doctors, or how little distrust

Fools; since they held these Sen∣tences for Follies. Don Felix took the Paper, and read thus.

The Fools Examination.

Which is the most discreet Folly? F. Love. M. Which is the most entertaining Folly? F. Play. M. Which is the most excusable Folly? F. Ambition. M. How may a Fool cease being so? F. By knowing that he is so. M. How shall he know that he is so? F. By dis∣coursing with wise men. M. What hath a man need of to become wise? F. To be Modest and Docible. M. Why are there so many Fools in the world? F. Because no body thinks himself one. M. To what Science are you inclined? F. To all. M. And are you able to learn all? F. Do you know how to teach me them all? M. All are taught in

this University. F. If then all are taught, why may not all be learnt? M. The life of man is too short for so large an undertaking. F. Is there more to be done then to lengthen it? M. How can it be lengthened? F. by unloosing the knots which restrain it. M. What knots restrain it? F. The pleasures of Love, the bewitchings of Play, the follies of Ambition, and the madness of Covetousness: These are the knots, by which the Life, that of it self is long, appears short. M. Never or very seldom is a Wit capable of more than one Science, and therefore the University hath ordained that we should make tryal of the Capacity of every one, by questions of all Scien∣ces, and then teach him that wherein he shall answer with most felicity. F. This is a madness, and not wor∣thy so much Fringe, and Cap: For if I should hit well upon a Science,

what need would there be that you should teach it me? Teach me that which I shall understand least. M. Although you should have a Wit incli∣nable to one faculty, and so inclina∣ble, that without having studied it (guided only by your natural ingenu∣ity) you were able to answer to any question, yet is it of great considera∣tion to study it in this University, and to crown your self with its Law∣rel; and, in like manner, is it of great consideration for you, that although you should know more Philosophy than Aristotle, by having learnt it in Books and Solitudes; for it will not not seem that you know a word, un∣less you take your degree of Master or Doctor. F. I have little Faith in Fringes, since I have seen Carriers Mules with infinite of them; or in Caps, because I have seen many Mad-men wear Caps: But in re∣gard we must follow the Humour

of the world, there's nothing but Patience, I am contented to be ex∣amined: Let's hear your Questi∣ons.

M. Will you learn the Laws? F. I would gladly be a Lawyer, if there was nothing to be learnt. M. I understand you not. F. The Law is nothing else but Reason, which guides us to follow what is just; and this lives in minds, not only Learned, but also Rustick, for they guide themselves likewise with reason, unless some passion or affection hinder them; but the in∣conveniency which I find in this fa∣culty, is, that there is too much written in it, and too much to be learnt; for from hence ariseth the obscurity, and clouds of reason and Justice. When I see a poor Plow∣man go to advise with a Lawyer, and that by the way, relating the Case, without understanding what

he does, makes known to him his Justice and the reasons which give him breath; I perceive that the Office of such a Lawyer is nothing more than to authorize the reason of the other, with his worshipful Title of Licenciate, or Doctor, such a one. Then who can endure to see, that the professors of this Faculty should be so little esteemed, that that if they say, 'tis now night, they are not credited unless they alledge twenty texts, and Bartolus and Baldus, with a thousand other Writers. M. The Office of a Judg whither they also go, by this Faculty, runs not those hazzards. F. Why not? I see every day, that what one sentences, another contradicts: Why is this? 'Tis either Passion, or Ignorance. I care not then sor an employment at such extreams.

M. Would you be a Physician? F. I am no such great friend of fee∣ling

the Wenches Pulses, and hand∣ling them; yet I could be one with a good will, was it not for casting their Waters, and asking how many Stools they have had, which agrees not at all with my Stomach.

M. According to this, you would only be a natural Philosopher. F. There is no Science that fits my Nature like this, but to learn it, I would not come to * 1.20 Salamànca, neither would I go to Alcalà: Be∣cause I see that all the Ancient Philosophers go contradicting one the other, as they succeed in their several Ages; and that at this day, you reprove Aristotle, and per∣chance you have reason for it: Neither can I abide that you should found all natural causes, in heat, and moysture; and that although you find no creep-hole for many difficulties, you stand beating your

brains all your life time, with So∣phistical Arguments, only because such a Philosopher said it, who, should he live now, and hear your clamorous disputes, without doubt would tell you, that he said it not for so much adoe: This, in my opinion, is a Science which is alto∣gether written in the contemplati∣on, and there is no Library like a fresh and pleasant Field, in an April morning.

M. Me thinks the Good man is given to Poësie and good Learning. F. As for Poetry, it is long since I have known it. M. The Art of Poetry do you know? I have seen but few in the world that have known it. F. The Precepts of Poetry are like the Precepts of the Law of God, which all know, but few keep; and so it is not to be doubted, but that the Art may be known, but not easily practised.

M. According to this you would pass your▪ Life time in reading Philo∣sophers, Historians, and Rhetorici∣ans? F. All these seem to me wearisome people: For the anci∣ent Philosophers were no other than certain idle Fellows, who went up and down from Feast to Feast, and from Tavern to Tavern, with which they lived merrily, and engendered good blood, and some∣times at unawares, let fall some witty sentence, as they that are merry with Wine, utter by do∣zens; now having a great and ve∣nerable opinion, the sottish Vul∣gar observed those Sayings as O∣racles; some years after sprang up an Elegant man, who, finding those sayings Canonized by the Estima∣tion of the People, polisheth them and writeth them for posterity, with the name of the Lazy Cox∣comb that said them; and as those

who came after, found them trim∣med up, and recommended with the Veneration of Antiquity, they gave them credit, in such sort that any truth of these, although it seem but like one of those which we call of Perogrullo the Buffoon, hath as much Authority amongst the Learned, as if it were the Law of a Sacred Council.

I am a man, who, the day where∣in I either get monies, or good hopes from the Wench I court, or hear good news, speak more con∣ceits than all those ancient Philo∣sophers, in more than a thousand Feastings or Entertainments, if it was not, that this of my not having an opinion, and all the worlds be∣ing so full of wise men, (each of which would be the praised one, without leaving a branch of Law∣rel for another) holds me disestee∣med, and particularly the tatters

of this Gown; for I was born in an Age, wherein good clothing is a signe of a good wit, as if there were not horses well harnessed. * 1.21 The other day I met a Physician, a friend of mine, and asking him when he began to clear the world of sick folks: He told me that he expe∣cted monies to buy him a Mule, as if the Mule had been to feel the Pulse, or cast the Water.

Then the Historians maule and slash me to death: there are no such unquiet people in the world; these are all for Wars, and more than Wars, like the mad-mans dreams, and if at any time they relate matters of Peace, they pass as quickly over them as a Cat over fire-coles: a thousand Musketeers shall not draw them from the Wars. I account them people of an ill pallate, and therefore affect them not; for their pleasing them∣selves

so much, in painting out an Army of cowardly white-liver'd fellows: and praising for great∣ness of Courage the rashness of some Barbarian: Is not this the In∣dex of a Demonaick nature? I cannot find a peaceable Historian; a Historian of State; one that I might converse withall, as with a prudent-man, and not these Furies, that a man supposing he talks with a person of Judgment, and when he least thinks on it, he sees him ar∣med Cap-a-pe. Historian of Luci∣fer! are there not transactions in Peace that deserve everlasting me∣mory? Does there not marvels of excellent Virtues happen? Why dost thou not relate them? A thousand times have I fancied, that they, on purpose, do describe thun∣drings and ratlings of a Battel, on∣ly that they may bring in with it. their pompous and corpulent ora∣tion.

Khetorick I call not an Art, but a meer trifle; for, to perswade in speaking, what needs any greater Art than for a man to know what he says, and have a good will to say it. When I see a Merchant sel∣ling his Merchandize, who with∣out knowing Rhetorick, perswades that a long napped Cloth is a soft Velvet, and that Stockins of Cam∣mels hair, are of Tolèdo Silk, I curse Rhetorick to the Devil, and him that saies it is needful in the world.

M. Now of force, we must under∣stand one another; you, it seems, come to learn the Mathematical Arts or Sciences? F. God preserve my Judgment, since that Science that puts it self into conversation with the Stars, certainly savours of mad∣ness; for the Stars are far distant from us: And yet suppose we should calculate a Nativity by

them, and follow the traeks of it, it must needs be a sad thing, to pry into fortune, and thrise to feel e∣vils, and to defraud the Joy of good events: Evils are three times felt; before they come, with fear; when they come, with grief; and afterwards with the memory: The Joy of good events may be defrauded, because now when they come, the hope is slackned, and their value did diminish by little and little, from the time that they began to be hoped for.

The other Arts, as Musick, Ge∣ometry, Arithmetick, and Cosmo∣graphy, are not for my Chollerick humour; for in not apprehending them by halves, I tire out the pati∣ence of him that teaches me.

M. These Gentlemen have thought good to give you a term of time, wherein you should deliberate better of the Science, which shall best sute

with your Genius: And in the mean while, that this your foolish∣ness continues, we condemn you to serve, which is the proper occupation of Fools.

Don Felix did greatly admire and applaud the Fools Examinati∣on; at which the Doctor being well pleased prosecuted his Theme. All these wise sayings they held for follies, meerly because I answered not as they supposed I would have done. So that folly amongst men, is no other thing than a contradi∣ction of Opinions; and him alone we account a Fool, who is not of the same opinion as we are. Hence it is, that in your Judgment there is no wise man; open your breast, and behold it well, for I know what I am saying, I know that you esteem your own Crotchets for high conceits, and that all those who

condemn them (in your opinion) are very Fools: And you are the only one, who perceive not that you are no Angell, having so many things of a Man, and, I may say, of a Brute too, and that it is most cer∣tain, that you know not any thing for certain.

As I saw that Assembly of so grave Doctors make a Laugh at what deserved applause, I began from that day forward to despise every man that was called Doctor, thinking that all were as foolish as those Doctors; I imagined that discretion and good wit was not in Fringes, because I saw also, that the water-bearers asses were ador∣ned with them: Nay, so much did I abhor the word Doctor, that being fallen sick of certain violent Rheums, which, distilling from my head to my stomach, were so offen∣five to my throat, that I was per∣swaded

it would strangle me; yet would I not do what the Doctor ordered me, which was to be forth∣with let bloud. 'Tis sufficient, said I, that the Doctors take away my reputation, without taking a∣way my life. Two daies after I was well, and this came by my Fol∣ly of not caring for the Doctors; for had I obeyed mine, I had de∣stroyed my self, if it be certain in Physick, that there is nothing worse, or more dangerous in cold distem∣pers than Blouding.

I went not to hear those readings which that Colledge of Fools had enjoyned me, thinking that those very same were the Masters, which taught the faculty of Cannons; and what credited my suspition, was to see that, without Art or Method, they taught a Faculty which had so much need of it. I despised them then, and this Folly procured

me much ease and profit: For the time which I should have spent at these readings, wherein only was treated, of writing the Dreams or Thefts of such or such a Master, I employed in one Book or another, of the Faculty, in my own Lodging, where, with better Stile, more Clearness, and greater Elegancy, I learnt in one hour more than I should have done in a year, at the Readings of the Doctors.

Who would think that Folly would assist towards the making men learned? Yet you see here what made me a Scholar; for I put by (with this) a thousand troubles, of pretenders who tired men a whole day with cringes and intrea∣ties to hear them one hour: I avoi∣ded the disquiets of the Schools; they wearied not me to ask me my Vote: for when I promised it but by halves, they not holding me in∣genious

enough to lye, easily gave me Credit: The loud applause of the Victors, or their Rolls, I was never charged with, it seemed to them that I was not fit for these; so that, enjoying great quietness, I held them all for my Friends.

My Master, that saw me so little affected to the Schools, gave me an Imployment, which not only did not oblige me to see them, but even removed me many Leagues from them. He had conquered, by force of his mony, a Girle, all sweet∣ness; and being jealous, as he had reason, in regard he was but very hard-favoured, and cold in extre∣mity, he placed me for her guard, supposing that he who had shown so flat and dull a Wit, would not have prickles to disturb those flowers; and that which spake in my be∣half was the severity of my countenance, the gravity of my

walking, and the slowness of my speech.

He kept her in a house accom∣panied by an old Matron, and a young Servant Maid, and minding to secure her, put me to guard her. There he dined, supped, and slept; and with knowing that I was be∣came an Argus over the Girle, the Gallant, my Master, neglected her, as if he had had her in his Pocket: This seemed to me an inchanted Palace; for without care of any thing, at Dinner and Supper times, we found the Tables furnished with variety of Dainties, by the care of my Master, who thought on no other thing.

Now do I blame such women, as shew a liking to this sort of Gal∣lants; these Fools, who having no variety in their Imagination, di∣vert not themselves with any more excellent care, they think not on

any other thing, for wanting dis∣course to find out faults, they fall in love more settledly, and esteem with greater respect. But an un∣derstanding man, as having his Soul free, flies from this thought to another, and hath his several ways of divertisement, for he hath variety, and is not seen to subject himself to low Amours: Moreo∣ver, at one time or another he spyes out faults; and as he himself is e∣steemed, because he deserves it, he comes to despise with more liber∣ty whatsoever fault he notes; since compared to his merits, it seems great to him: Now the reason why we commonly see such Coxcombs better beloved then these, is, that they love in earnest, they solicite in earnest, and adore in earnest. But that you may not envy their fortune, hear what was my Ma∣sters.

He had been bred up in State with his Lady Mother, quarrelling with the Maids about his breakfast, and other fopperies, more of a young Gentlewoman than a Stu∣dent: From whence he had learnt such an absurd fantastical behavi∣our, that utterly spoyled all his sport: He spake to this pretty Girle as if it had been to one of his Aunts, and used certain Comple∣ments, which seemed to have pas∣sed the Craggy Mountains of Somo∣sierra; yet not for want of Love, for of that he had enough, but by a natural constraint and dulness.

With this, the Breast of the La∣dy was become cold as Ice, and no marvel indeed, since they are as the Moon is with the Sun; for as she receives her Light from that Golden Gallant, so Ladies shew the Lustre of their good likings, by those which they receive from

their Lovers. To think that they will love thee, be thou never so rich, if thou art cold, is a Simpli∣city: Being rich, thou maist make thy Lady rich, but not loving to thee; thou oughtest to have that which must be pleasing to her, if thou wouldst that she should be so to thee: If thou art cold, thou art better for a Surpliss than for a Courter of Ladys: Go get thee into a Cell, and turn Fryer; none gives more than he hath, thou wilt only give her Rheums or Cathars; thou knowest already, that they are diseases of the Breast, where the Heart is. This ill hath good fortune, that in giving much confidence, it takes away many favours; for these Noble-men think that only by being so, they abound in all things, yet they are afterwards found to have been mistaken, and come to serve but as Stewards to

those who are better liked. So it happened to my Master, for not withstanding all his care and study to court this Maid, and to treat her: I was the happy possessor of her Heart; for the familiarity and large converse which had passed between us, had given her to un∣derstand that I deserved better than my Master, by being less Fool, and more fortunate; so that my Master served me, and better than I could serve him.

What reason now have I to com∣plain of ill Fortune, if being an impudent Traytor with a Fools re∣putation, I enjoy sixteen thousand Duckats a year, which I spend by anothers hand, in my own De∣lights? These and other adven∣tures of no less importance happe∣ned to me in Salamànca; but I re∣late them not all, for not being so much to the purpose, intending

only to tell you the End of my Courses, which was as Foolish as the Begining.

The Poets say, that when Jupi∣ter beautified the World with such variety of Enamels, and illustrated Man with so liberal a stock of Goods, He was very jealous to see that he made no acknowledg∣ment of this bounty, for he im∣ployed all his Love on those Goods which he injoyed; insomuch that he remembred not himself of the Author of them. Anger then sug∣gested to the God a remedy for this, and being warned from thenceforward by the ingratitude, he blended those Goods with a certain mixture of evils, which should take from their Estimation, supposing that with this, men would not love them so much, nor forget their Creator, but rather as they had need of him, even to en∣joy

these very goods, they should invoke him at every instant, and render him the Religion, Reve∣rence and Memory, which so great a Power meriteth.

He tempered the good of Dig∣nities, with the watchings and cares of administring them: The felici∣ty of Wit, with the persecuti∣ons of Envy: Merits with Poverty: Riches with Avarice; and so all the goods which adorn men: He came to Love, and found that it was the greatest good which they had, since even he himself, although the Father of Goods, always seemed to confess himself poor in this, by show∣ing so great a covetousness for it: He thought it necessary to mix much bitterness, to allay so much sweet∣ness: for he certainly knew that they would not remember him, who saw themselves blest with a good, whereof he himself blazo∣ned

so much, which is of being be∣loved; and it was to be feared, lest they should call themselves Gods, and rebell against Heaven, seeing themselves glorious with the greatest Ensignes of happiness: He then mustered up in his memory all the Evils, and that which shew∣ed it self most severe, and cruel, was the same which had then tyrani∣zed in his breast.

If I, said Jupiter, being a Deity, to whom such a multitude of shi∣ning Ministers stand seasoning Joys and Tranquilities; If I, who am encompassed with a Heaven of Diamonds, which evils cannot pe∣netrate, be they never so sharp; see my self conquered, and all my glo∣ry taken away, by the Jealousies which I have of man; what is there to be doubted, but that this is the greatest of Evils, and will be suffi∣cient to temper the greatest of

Goods? He then mixed Love with Jealousies, wherewith this good was made bitter.

I happened to prove the bitter∣ness of my Love, when most flat∣tered with its Felicity, finding my self jealous, which is the same as sick to death; for the foolish Girle was visited (and in appearance to her great content) by a certain Gentleman of the City, bravely ac∣coutred with a Ruff, a Gold Chain, and a Plush Cloke, which was then all the mode: Now, though I did not doubt of my merits, yet I feared the Maids inconstancy, who as a Child had her Eyes running af∣ter those baubles, and my pleasing conversation had already glutted her Stomach. I then perceived that many good parts were ill be∣loved, by the ill Election of wo∣men, who, for the most part, are not very prudent. I envied the

Secular Ruff, thinking that every set hole in it was a discharge of Ar∣tillery against that Fortress, and curst the restraint of the Students habit, laying on it the blame of my slights; I threatned her many times with my Master, but she having bought my liberty with hers, laugh∣ed at my threats, concluding that I would keep secret her boldness, not to endanger her publishing of mine; thus I (perceiving my self jealous) held it for an ill Augury, thinking that I stood on the thresh∣old of Discretion, when I remem∣bred what was said by Lope de Vega Carpio, Oracle of the Spanish Mu∣ses, and flourishing Ornament of its glorious Monarchy:

The Man whose Breast no Jealous Passions swell, And yet pretends his Heart Loves Sacrifice;

Or is a Fool, or else he loves not well, Because distrust is mother of the wise.

According to this, said I, I should be wise, since I am jealous, surely some great evil must befall me, be∣ing now become wise; and remem∣bred that I had never intermitted being a Fool, which had not cost me some great trouble. I called to mind also that the time when in Madrid, I enjoyed the favours of the Liberal Damzel, only by be∣ing a Fool, I had escaped from this Penance of Love: and was now sorry to be wise, by the evil which I was afraid hung over me: so that if Folly should have no other al∣lurement on its side, but the being a Mistress, and free from Jealou∣sies, it is a quality sufficient to make it be esteemed, and preferred be∣fore

the higest Discretion.

You may, perchance, wonder to see me sometimes wise, and some∣times foolish; and then in your malice will possibly be censuring me, for a Dissembler; and I wish that it be no worse. Malicious Friend, if thou thinkest that the rest of the wise men, and fools of the world are not so, thou art a Fool: For the wisest man some∣times is careless, makes intermissi∣ons in his Discretion, and holds it for a Gallantry, to do, or say some extravagancy, either for the set∣ing off, or strengthening of his Actions; when you shall hear say, such a one hath accomplish'd his design well, I hold him for very discreet. Think not that that man is discreet, but that he happened discreetly upon it. The same in miscarriages; Thou art not to suppose that he is a Fool because

he slipt on some folly, but that he went foolishly to work. When they would Cannonize some Saint, they are not content with one or two miracles, but with many, and very remarkable ones; why shouldst thou cannonize any body for di∣screet, because he happened on something well, at one time or a∣nother? Perchance he being an errand Fool, could do no other∣wise; perchance he knew so little, that in this, he even knew not how to be a Fool, and suffered himself to be carried by his Fortune, with∣out making pause at his blind ele∣ction.

The Auguryes accomplished their threatnings, for ill Auguryes are like Natives of the Kingdom of Arragon, that will sooner forget their God than their Anger. It cost me not a few disquiets, for I saw my self encompassed on all

sides: so that would I pass on for∣ward with my Love, I presently found a very shameful reprehen∣sion, that said to me, there is no room for thee; another hath come in with a Ruff so great, and a Plush Cloke so large and swell'd, that he can scarce be contained there. If I should have given the reigns to my anger, and repaired my injury with vengeance, I fea∣red it would be too much to my own cost, having reason to be si∣lent, and so must be of force, or dye; and yet I must of force dye, if I should be silent. So possessed was I with anger, and so restrai∣ned by fear, that I would have accounted it for a happy change, to lose the past Delights, that I might have withdrawn my body from the present Torments.

Love is not for Virtuous men; very foolish or bad must he be,

that must be possessed of it: Although there should be no Law of God that should pluck us by the sleeve, at the engaging our selves in these wickednesses, yet the evils which go chained with them, would be sufficient to detain us: The un∣happiness is, we are unwilling to cast away from us these pleasures, though I assure you, that if we could but take off the Cloke from them, and find out the unfortu∣nate ends, which presently threa∣ten us, we would not give them so much Credit as we do. For it was a Divine Providence, to season Sin with Repentance, that when we are most flattered with its Smiles, and Serenities, we should find out the deceit, and know our blindness.

In fine, I determined to leave her, when I understood she had left me, and with the hazzard, not

only of my head, but of my opi∣nion. I acquainted my Master with what had passed, the fre∣quency of the Gallant, and his obstinacy, and told him some of those Jealousies which I had too many of. To which his opinion was, that this quarrell must be had with the Maid; for she not giving him hopes (he concluded for certain) that he would not have had the boldness, so much as to look upon her. I commended his discreet contrivance, but see∣ing that I endangered my opinion by this way; for she perceiving her self discovered, would, sure e∣nough discover me: I therefore, not to lose the occasion, replyed, that she in no wise gave admittance to his desires, but that he was such an impudent fellow, that he took it. With this he rested sa∣tisfied, and with determination

to fall severely upon this dareing Gallant.

I well see that I had but little reason in what I said, for I was indeed alwaies of a contrary opi∣nion; I ever knew, that as many as have hopes, desires and con∣fidence, do found them on some favour, and that no desire can be had without hope. But mark, I beseech you, how important a thing it is to be a Fool, or to ap∣pear so, since it serves even to perswade to false opinions, and to qualifie them for true ones. If Pla∣to had said it to my Master, he would have believed that he had deceived him, by the force of his Arguments, and did it for osten∣tation of his Wit: But as a man told it him, who, he thought, had not the faculty of not tel∣ling truth, as if this was not the most difficult: he had no

suspition, neither any malice at all.

Now my Master was somewhat unskilful and timerous in the busi∣ness of Hectoring, therefore had put in readiness all his Servants; so out we go some six men of us, like so many Lions, guarding his body: And coming to the street of the Unhappy fair one, we saw the Gal∣lant, waiting with another (both muffled) at the door of her house: I drew near to know him, and be∣ing known, without making any signe to the rest of the Ambush, I made at him, and at the first bout I gave him a handsom cut over the Pate: For I had two advanta∣ges over him; one was the being injured, another the beginning the fray. The Squadron at that, coming up, we set upon them cou∣ragiously on all sides, and having given them many sore wounds (for

it was an easy matter to lay about us in such a confusion) we left them for dead, and retired to our lodging.

CHAP. IV. He relates the Life which he lead being a Judg, and af∣terwards, a Pretendient in the Court for an Imploy∣ment.

MY Master having the opini∣on of a wise, modest, and sober man, the very same persons who had assisted him, murmured at the injustice; and although they knew that I was the Boreas of that Tempest, no body blamed me, it seeming to them, that I for no folly deserved a punishment, because I complyed but with my nature in what I did; who would think that it was good

being a Fool, even not to appear one? Yet thus far can this good Fortune extend: I that was the principal Fool was not murmured at, only because I was a Fool, and my Master that was wise, he bore the brunt with his Wisdom. We had a strong debate, and va∣rious Votes, what was best to be done; but mine overcame, which was to leave Salamànca; in regard the wounded, or dead, were of the most illustrious of that City, so that with whom might be held a good Correspondence, was the main thing next to be thought on: And this being agreed upon by us, we took Mules the same night, and in a few daies (for fear gave us wings) we arrived at a Village the best that was in all the Estate of the Earl his Brother, who him∣self at that time resided there. Now, although his absence from the

Court was not intended for any long time, yet the spatiousness and pleasantness of the Situation, the flattery and delights of those green trees, and the bubling of the Fountains so much delighted him, that made his stay the longer; the same turned also to our li∣king, which was but meer neces∣sity.

This good Gentleman had all manner of recreations: as Dogs for Hunting, Books of entertainment in a great & curious number, excellent Gardens, also thick and well-sha∣ded Groves, and he knew not the cause of our retirement, for that being the end of our course, had taken away all suspition.

I was, yes, and am now, and e∣ver shall be, greatly inclined to the conversation of women: What a right course I took here to make my self a Fool? I liked very well

the Groves, and the Rivers, but, in my opinion, there wanted to them the Soul, which is the con∣course of this, and the other good face, that with their sight should guild them, as the Sun does. Therefore I presently grew weary of that wilderness-like Solitude; yet remembring me of the evils which had befallen me, for desi∣ring these Goods, I fell to Philo∣sophizing, in so much that in a few days, I reduced my self to think that the true Felicity was to bind up a man within himself, this is by adorning himself with Learning, and Virtues; for other things, which, with a fair appearance, seem to be Felicities, either they are not so, or are not durable: I like∣wise considered that although the enjoyment of the height of them was sweet, yet the fall was so cer∣tain, that the pleasure of them

was twice paid for; once with the fear of falling, for it dares molest us when we are at the highest pitch; and then with the fall; for this Edifice being founded on pil∣lars of Glass (such are the follies and frailties of women) it must necessarily yield to any weight.

I took great delight to lock up my self, in the Room where the Earl kept his Books; there did I pass all hours of the day, and ma∣ny of the night, laughing at such as invited me to go a Hunting, to play at Billiards, or at Cards; for certainly nothing is pleasure to us, but that to which our inclination stears us: I thought it impossible that there should be any one, who could take delight in going a whole afternoon, in spight of the violent scorchings of the Sun, fol∣lowing a Hare, or persecuting a Wolf: And then, for Cards, I

could not believe that any man could have patience to think, that whilst he was expecting a Seven of Hearts to make up his Game, there should come an impudent Knave of the Clubs to excuse the Seaven, and say that he could not come; and those tricks of jugling a Card, as if by that, the figure of it could be changed. All this I held for folly; and gave a thousand thanks to God that had diverted my in∣clination from such foolish enter∣tainments.

I spent my time with my Books, the most discreet company in the world, since knowing so much, they never speak a word, unless they are asked: Sometimes I wearied my self, and then deceived my weariness with variety; and being tired with one, took up another; for as I studied not for ostentation, but for recreation; neither was I

troubled for the obtaining of a thought, nor at the leaving it in the midst of its carreer. Finally, I made a pastime of labour, and by this means secured the Duration of it.

But the time being come, of returning back from our progress, the Earl hastned us away, now be∣cause I was still quarrelling with Fortune, that she had not paid me for the Courtship I had made her, in committing the folly of the skir∣mish, She did then quit scores with me. I had a great opinion of be∣ing Learned, gained by the lock∣ing my self up in the Library; and being confident of this, I came to the Earl, at a time when I found him alone; and said, certainly, Sir, Your Honour might well excuse the care which this Journey gives you; for your Brother (whom God preserve) has no need of see∣ing

those Schools to be able to read as Chair-man to the Masters of them: For although, 'tis true, that mode∣sty and retiredness, do a little advantage him, he ha's a most pro∣found Wit, and is really devoted to what he professes; I assure you, Sir, he hath attained to more in Three years, than others in Thir∣ty.

Near this place is the Monastery of Iràche, where he may take the Degree of Batchelor, and continue passing his time in this Solitude, which will be more profitable for him than to go to be diverted, by following his pleasures: and what he hath learnt here, to for∣get in Salamànca, which in effect is a populous City, and not so fit for the exercise of Wit as this plea∣sant retirement. He liking the Counsel, we Commence in Iràche. Thus we excuse two years Colds of

Salamànca, in recompense of one fol∣ly.

Two years spent I in that solita∣ry Life, and in them learnt of Ci∣vil Law enough, and of other Learning more than enough; and having gained an opinion of be∣ing studious, and confirmed it with certain Sentences of Cato, they be∣gan to call me Doctor, in the Earls house, and so frequently used it, that now I was by no other name known then the Doctor Ceñudo; and a while after we returning to our centre, the Court, I took my place of Doctor as if really I had been so.

At that time His Majesty honou∣red a Gentleman, a friend of the Earls, with the Office of * 1.22 Corrigi∣dòr, of one of the most illustrious

Cities of Spain. This same Corri∣gidòr, was mad to be Governing, as might be seen a hundred leagues off; for having a sufficient Estate to maintain him conformable to his Quality, nothing would serve him but to be a Corrigidòr, and could have eaten his fingers ends, to be showing his power over the Petty * 1.23 Alcaldes; but he dreaded the carrying with him learned * 1.24 Te∣nientes, such as would command all, wherefore he consulted his fears with the Earl, who in conclu∣sion proposed to him my person, for one of the two Offices, extol∣ling my modesty, and my retired∣ness, all which suted well with what the Corrigidòr desired; and there wanted not some, who told me, that amongst others of my praises, he had acquainted him that I was a Fool: Scarcely had the Corrigidòr heard this, when saying,

that such a one was what he had need of, and not your meddling Pedants; he granted him the Office for me, and further added, that he was a most happy man, in ha∣ving found out, for his purpose, so well qualified a Person.

Behold me now, chief Alcàlde of a populous City, here you see, the Title of a Fool availed me more than the Title of Batchelor or Do∣ctor of Law. Is it then ill being a Fool? I know that more than a few would be so, on condition that they might but so well attain to their desired ends: And I am confident, as one faithfully experi∣enced, that Folly is very important, not only for the obtaining of Dig∣nities, but also for the enjoying them, which presently you will see.

The other Office of Teniente, or Deputy, he gave to an able, but

formall Coxcomb, much wedded to the Laws, and to his humour: a man whose word it was, you see it is written, and you shall be made to do it. This was not of the Corrigidors Election, but the ex∣press command of a Noble-man, to whom he owed the greatest part of his wings: we came shortly after to the place of our residence, where I soon got the knack of Precedents, Decrees, and other tri∣fles, for the ordering my business, which the industry of the Procu∣rators and Scrivanos, or Solicitors and Attorneys, assisted me with; I therefore was fain to mould my self plyable as wax to them, and denyed them nothing; so with this, and my not scrupling at their Ex∣orbitances, all businesses came to me, that I gained as much as might have served both my self and my Companion, whom they

called King Don Pedro, because he was so grave, and so zealous for the executing of Justice; but they fled from him, as from Virtue.

Now you may scoff at Folly, that knows how to favour its own Servants, and punish others: And you may see if it be good being a Fool, even to the administring of Offices, which so much require dis∣cretion and prudence. True Dis∣cretion, my Friend, is to be ply∣able, and bend with the Times; but think not that I could be the Martyr of Alguaziles and Attorneys, although I had been brought up with Onions and Garleek; no, I am not of so strong a Constituti∣on.

There I knew that the great de∣stroyer of Virtues was Power. Did I not tell thee how much I came improved out of those Solitudes? What a Philosopher, how reserved,

and close I was! what a Contem∣ner of all Delights, and enemy of Pleasure! but now seeing my self powerful, I went out of my self, and what wonder if I was out of my Centre: No one knows what it is, to be an ordinary Judge of a Populous City! I stood upon a high place, my head grew giddy, I must therefore certainly expect a fall.

The first trip which I gave, was on Pride; I was sparing of my Hat, wherein my frown assisted me, to my great advantage: With all the Town I was a Lyon, only with my Alguaziles a Lamb: I then threw aside my rod of Justice, the Badg of my Office, for the Follies of Venus, I went the rounds by nights, not to apprehend Thieves, nor Murtherers, nor any other sort of People, but to deliver up my self a Prisoner to She-robbers and,

Murtheresses: Yet this kind of plea∣sure did presently become nautious to me, I liked not the easiness of it, but was most pleased to meet with the greatest difficulties, I adored im∣possibilities, there I set to my shoul∣der, & there I engaged my self. How many Forts did I overthrow with nothing but my Rod? How many wills did Fear corrupt? I am asha∣med to tell you the Vile means wherewith I prostrated noble De∣signs on the ground. These Vi∣ctories (said I) deserve applause; these, which when they fly and are most difficult, do crown the Con∣queror.

I went into any house that I plea∣sed, though it was never so close, with great ease: For I either pre∣tended that I searched for some Delinquent, or that I would exa∣mine the Master of it, for a Wit∣ness concerning a fact, which, in∣deed,

had never been committed. Once I remember that I carried a∣way prisoner, the husband of a handsom woman, which I had a mind to, feigning certain suspiti∣ons of him, and kept him in Pri∣son as long time as I listed, that he might not hinder my free access into his House. All these extrava∣gancies were brave exploits, in the opinion of my under Ministers, they commended them, instead of disapproving them, and admonish∣ing me against them: and I seri∣ously think that they liked them well, because all of them are, for the most part, fellows of this hu∣mour, and cry up for good, all actions wherein they see them∣selves painted.

I was but a little covetous, and therefore drew on my side the Common People of the City, as the Taverner, the Inn-keeper, the

Taylor, and all that rabble of Peo∣ple, which being the most vile, and most Licentious we have amongst us, they give or take away a good opinion, at pleasure. The Gentle∣men complained not, though they had reason for it, not to stain their Honour the more, by pub∣lishing their Dishonour. With this I walked unbridled, through a thousand kinds of Insolencies. Oh how important a thing is the choosing foolish or unlearned men into Offices! the damage is no less, then the throwing poison into a publique Fountain; every one has a share of death, all participate of these evils: These fetters bind all, though the fault or carelesness of the Election be but in one only, and one only I here blame.

But because, methinks, you stay expecting to know how I came off with my Office, should you not

know, that those who make it good or evil, are Attorneys and Algua∣ziles? Since these then for so ma∣ny reasons were my Friends, there was none who did not praise me, instead of accusing me. Finally, at the three years end I went out w••ll from all, and indifferently rich, but my Companion ill and poor; I went away the Corrigidors friend, but my Companion his e∣nemy: Is it good, think you, to be a Fool? It may be, you will tell me, that I was not so in this, but ra∣ther very discreet; you have some reason; for it was discretion not to contradict my Corrigidor, in any business that he should com∣mand, be it never so unjust; be∣cause he, in effect, was my Superi∣or, and I took not upon me that Office but to obey him: To have friendship with Alguaziles and At∣torneys, what wise man would not

do it? To be kind to their re∣quests, was Liberality, not Folly: but let it be what it will, I was happy by these means.

In Madrid I presented my per∣son, and the account of my resi∣dence, and got the repute of a good and just Judge: Wherefore the Corrigidor assisted me with all the interest he could make, that His Majesty might bestow upon me some other greater Imploy∣ment, and in the mean time lod∣ged me in his House, admitted me to his Table, and allowed me his Coach; with which I led in Ma∣drid, the Life of a Prince. Ambi∣tion now began to disquiet me, for although I naturally did never much affect the living in a Garret, the seeing my self put into this way had quite spoyled my humi∣lity, I was glutting my self with the flatteries which power

made me: Me thought I lived not the day wherein I did not com∣mand: Nevertheless the kindness of the Corrigidor was such, and the entertainments which we had in the Court, so great, that they diverted this desire from me.

I am perswaded, it would be impossible, that Pretendients should have so large hopes in such ardent desires, if they lived not in such a bewitching place, as is Madrid, which hath so many Lethargies, wherewith to lull asleep any desire, or any ambition.

At the Fame of my Folly, came Corrigidors by dozens, offering me what mine had done; but I that must needs be a Fool upon Record, fell to pretending, or begging at Court, a place of settlement, only that I might not be idle from com∣manding every day, as I was then, whilst they bestowed another Of∣fice

on me: In which pretension, all the Power that had favoured my Corrigidòr assisted me; it is not proper for me to divulge this, but you are a Friend, and will speak of it to no body. I had an advan∣tage above all other Pretendients, who had merits only in being a Fool; for they confiding in what they had deserved, used some slight diligences, to that effect, thinking that those who were to honour them, had no other care, but to conjecture their deserts by their faces. Worthy and deserving friend, what matters it, though thou art so, if all do not know it? Tell it aloud, and use means to pro∣cure thy ends, or else never pre∣tend; for I, who had no other Basis whereon to found my preten∣sions, besides my Solicitude, and favour, observed it with much industry.

In this interim I learnt the grea∣test piece of Courtly discretion, which is, Flattery, and Courtesie. I staid an hour every morning, be∣fore I went out of my Lodging, to meditate new ways of flattery, wherewith to reap new favours. I was the first since Adam, till this present, who told great Lords that they resembled Gods, in do∣ing favours without any hopes of return. Another time I said to a No∣ble-man; Your excellency, my Lord, in consideration of who you are, hath a precise obligation to favour me, for your Excellency being such a friend of doing courtesies and favouring all, I have served you in requesting it of you; and have given you matter whereon to im∣ploy the generosity of your mind. To another, I once said, The time is now come, wherein your Lord∣ship may disburthen your Breast,

and do favours for being so big with them, only my short merits may be capable vessels of your Li∣berality: If I deserved it, my Lord, it would not be an excess, but in this I serve your Lordship, since meriting it so little, the benefit lyes shrowded, the more under the shaddow of my poor wants. In such manner I spake these flatte∣ries, as made them believe, they were really the Princes, who most favoured their Servants.

In Bribes and Presents I acquired the name of Fool, amongst some who were so themselves; because I seldome presented things to be eaten: They told me if I did not, I should never have good success: For Presents of this nature cost but little, and were ever acceptable: But I was always of a different opi∣nion, that they should never give things which would not be pre∣sent

in view a long time, and re∣present the memory of the Donor; for which reason, they are called Presents: Things edible are not of this quality, for either they will be spoyled, or must be spent pre∣sently.

Only I remember that upon an occasion I once forgot this precept, for staying in an outward room, waiting to see a certain Lady, to∣wards whose North all my pre∣tensions (with a full gale in Poop) were steered, there came out a Dueña to entertain me and ano∣ther Gentleman, that was an assi∣stant to me in these encounters. The Dueña began the conversation, as∣king him what he had eaten at din∣ner, what Cook he kept, and o∣ther questions of this nature: The Gentleman, who by the story, cer∣tainly, must needs be wonderous discreet, began to invent a thou∣sand

excellent dishes, never imagi∣ned before, and that he had a Cook which made most incompa∣rable Pastys, of the Sinnews of a Leg of Veal, of the Breasts of Ca∣pons, of Partridges; Pidgeons, and Turtles, that there was nothing like them in the World. He had scarce made his boast of his Cook, when the Dueña, whose chops wa∣tered after these Pastys, desired of him one for a tast: The Wiseacre promised it her, and was very joy∣ful that she had believed him; and that she might think him a man of an excellent pallate, at the expence of much care and mony, sought out a Cook that should make good his lye.

I that was a Fool, being affrigh∣ted at the fall of my Comrade when the Dueña came to ask me the same, told her, that I kept a Cook-maid which knew how to make Sassages

marvelously, and a Sallad that might be given to one that was dead; which was truth, for a living bo∣dy could not suffer the smell of them, I thought I had turned her Stomach with this; but as I am al∣ways so unfortunate with Dueña's, she longed for some of these Sassa∣ges, and Sallad; I promised her them, and complyed honestly with my word, but fearing that if the Sassages should go very cleanly, she would send for more, I sent a Servant to buy some great dirty ones, of those which women sell at the corners of streets to Porters, and other poor people; he carri∣ed them, and I know not whether or no, it might be the Dueña's gree∣diness, or my commendations of them, for so rare, or else my misfortune. But every Saturday I received a message from the Du∣eña, wherein she sent for more

Sassages. I was very sensible of that tribute, and me thought I lost in this my Gentility; and as Liberty obliges men to great undertakings, I bad a Servant go one Saturday, and bring a whole Sheeps Paunch, stuffed naturally, without emptying the Guts: He did so, and it seeming to me, they came somewhat hollow; I com∣manded that they should fill them up what wanted, with Onions, and many other sweet and cleanly bits: So I sent her them well seasoned, & I know not what was in the fault, the cleanliness or my misfortune: But the Saturday following, she sent me another message to send her more, and gave me thanks for those past. I had no other reme∣dy than, but to say, the Cook-maid was dead the night before. See what Creatures these Dueña's are! Half an hour after, she sent another

message to me, to desire me to tell her where I thought to bury her, because she would say certain Masses for her, and send her Ladys Ser∣vants, that they might go to ho∣nour her Corps that knew how to make such excellent Sassages; and that if, perchance, she had left the Receit how these Sassages were to be made, that I would do her the fa∣vour to give her it. I was fain to make a Receit for Sassages, the first that came to hand, and send her, tel∣ling her, that the Cook-maid was al∣ready buried, and that she needed not take any care for the saying Masses for her. This very day do I stand in fear lest she should send to me, to know if the Cook of the Sassages be not yet risen a∣gain.

My ingenious Presents had bet∣ter luck; for sometimes they cost me lesser than if they had been

some rare things to be eaten (which in effect are but slight and soon gone) and yet, for the most part, were, as if I should have set by their sides a ••age, that should still be putting them in mind of my bu∣siness.

One time, to a Minister of State, that was short sighted, I presented a Case and a pair of Spectacles, tel∣ling him that they came from Italy, that a Brother of mine had sent me them, for the most pretious Jewel in all those parts, that they mar∣velously preserved the sight, and were the very Spectacles which the King Don Ferdinando had used during his Conquest of that Nati∣on, and I procured the Case to be old-fashioned, curious and rich, by which I qualified the Spectacles with great advantage.

Believe me, you do nothing, you who are confident in the greatness

of the Gift which you offer, if you neglect its Ornament, and setting off. For there are those, who look∣ing on a horse without his furni∣ture, that should he be more swift than those of the Sun, and more mettlesome than Bucephalus, would account him but for a Jade that works in a Mill; and if they should see, well harnessed, but Don Qui∣xote's Steed, would esteem him like Belerophons Pegasus. To me it hath happened, that I have made greater ostentation with a dish of Italian Sallad, which, it may be, put me to the expence of about * 1.25 15 Quartos, than if I had sent them a Camel loaded with Pheasants. There is nothing to women like Flowers, Patches, Ribbons and Paint; if you think otherwise, ask the most confident Ladies of our age, and they will tell you, that were it not for Artifice, there

would not be any body that would look them in the face.

This Minister of Ignorance put on my Spectacles, and perswaded himself that he was a very Linx with them, and was as thankful for for the present, as if I had given him new sight, telling me that in respect to my business, * 1.26 he would carry me always before his eyes, only with wearing my Spectacles bèfore them. This then may pro∣perly be called a present, that ne∣ver stirs a jot from before the Eyes of the great man to whom it is sent.

Another Lord, on whom depen∣ded all my hopes, had a good opi∣nion of his own handsomness, but was somewhat long visaged; in∣somuch that his cheek bones stood out too visibly, to the prejudice of his Beauty, as though they had intended him an ill office: I ha∣ving

notice of a certain Merchant, who had false Looking Glasses, that would shew a thousand several sorts of faces; from amongst these I chose one that made round plump faces, and had an excellent frame of Ebony, inlaid with Ivory, which I presented him with, for the most faithful that had ever been seen; protesting that it was the same Looking-Glass, by which the Ca∣va used to sit dressing her self eve∣ry morning two hours, before she went to enamour the King Don Ro∣drigo; which had lately been found in the inchanted * 1.27 Cave at Tolèdo, by the industry of a great Magician, that it was a pledge worthy the placing in a Pallace, like that of his Excellency's, if he pleased, for the Veneration which

was due to Antiquity: He accep∣ted it with a smiling countenance, and looking in it, found himself fat, and almost round, and as though I had mended his face, gave me thanks for it, telling me it was a gift that was more accep∣table to him then any other thing, which might be believed, because it flattered him in that he nee∣ded.

Trust to Looking-Glasses, and buy them for your friends; where∣in you will do well, since friends there are, which flatter like Look∣ing-Glasses, and make you believe you are round faced, and perfect, being lean, and foolish in your af∣fections.

Afterwards I knew, that four times in a day he consulted his handsomness in it, and it so much deceived him, as he said, that that alone was a true Looking-Glass,

and only in the time of King Don Rodrigo, they knew how to make Looking-Glasses, but in this Age all Arts were so adulterated, that they had not the skill to make a true Glass in all Spain; so certain it is that nothing appears true to us, but what sutes with our liking. You will say I was a Fool for pre∣senting a Looking-Glass to a Lord, and that a Horse would have been a more proper Present. You know not what you say, for a Horse would not be a Present, in regard it would not be alwaies present, nor put him in mind of my desire, because he, for the most part, went in a Coach, or in a Chair, but the Glass was present four times a day: thus very conveniently I set my Cava for an Intercessor that he might favour me. If these flatte∣ries pass with you for follies, you your self are but a Fool. What

will you say to a Present that I made of a Clock with an Allarum, which rattled the whole Parish; seems this an ill remembrancer of my business at all hours?

Yet in no present (methinks) I hit so luckily, as in one that I made to a great States-man, who was suf∣ficiently proud, although he had his rise from base Parentage: For∣tune, you must understand, had raised him to that Preferment, be∣cause she otherwise would never shine with such Lustre as she does, nor would her power, but lye in concealment, if she should not ex∣ercise it on such as are nothing, or but very little. He had his clear ascendency from a Cellar of water, for so was his Grand-father, but he forgetting that those waters re∣proached him, as the Poets say, never shew'd a good face to any body; the truth is, he had a very ill

ill one, for he had still imprinted on it, the Curses which his Grand∣sire gave to his Ass that carried his water-pots. Coming by chance into a Brokers Shop, where was a Parrot to be sold, I began to bar∣gain for it, and questioning its abi∣lity, they told me it was a young one, and but newly began to speak, and knew not how to say more than Water-man, Water-man; it seemed to me that I had found an Ashwednesday for the Pride of this States-man: I made a Cage for it, which might well have served a Dueña for bigness. Already I have told you how impatient I was to live in Pomp and State; for this reason, I say, I presented it to my States-man, for the most rare qua∣lified and most witty Parrot of the World, the Cage also spake a thou∣sand Marvels in its favour: He was very thankful, and my good Par∣rot

shewed in a few days its preg∣nant understanding, giving Le∣ctures and undeceiving to this Luci∣fer in a Gown.

At all times when he came into his house, he found it with a Me∣mento homo in his mouth, it alwaies received him with Water-man, Wa∣ter-man, and repeated this with great quickness; now as it never said any other thing, he considered on it, and was possessed with an opinion that some Angel had spo∣ken to him by the mouth of a Par∣rot; He then began to tremble, changed the Scene, and dispelled his frowns. Finally, the man was converted by the Lectures of the Parrot, that he already gave au∣diences with greater facility; he also spake with less scorn, and par∣ticularly to me, to whom he would commonly say, he had an especial obligation, but would not let me

know wherefore. He came not at any time into the house without vailing his Beaver to the Parrot, saying, all that Courtesie was due to a Master. A few days after, it changed its Note by means of another Parrot which was at a Neighbours house, of whom it learnt to say, Alas poor Parrot! and who comes there, who comes there? Nevertheless, the Master lost not his Credulity, that it was some Spirit cloathed in Green, and attri∣buted that change of Conversati∣on to his amendment from his Pride. So that the Parrot, by no means, spake any thing which he accounted not for a Mystery.

I plainly see that this folly might have returned upon my own head, it being so rash; Therefore do you never trust in follies, unless you are venturous; but it may be you will say, it is sufficient to be a Fool, to

make a man venturous. In effect I was so fortunate, that I flattered with injuries, and gained favours with affrontings. But yet methought I was out of my centre whilst I was not in Love. The suing for an Office, and the Courting a Lady, are so much alike, as that it was ve∣ry easie for me to pass from one to the other; with Flatteries we sue for Offices, we Court Ladies with Flatteries, these with Gifts we fa∣cilitate, with Presents those; for Offices nothing is less important, than the deserving them, because Fortune who disposeth of them is blind: There is nothing of less im∣portance with Ladies, than the de∣serving them, because 'tis either good or ill Fortune that with them gives a winning or a losing Cast.

I fell very desperately in Love with a Maiden, the Daughter of Noble Parents, and yet more Rich

than Noble: I know not whether or no you have observed, that all my Loves were with Maids: This was one of the greatest of my Fol∣lies; She was all the delight and care of her Parents; they had no other Child on whom to divert their Loves, all was on their Fair Daughter; She had been bred up under the Tutorage of her Mo∣ther, with Marmalade, and Carra∣way Confects, in such sort, that they had wrought her little heart alto∣gether of Coyness. At the Fame of her great Dowry, she had been offered many Matches of Different Ranks, as of Lawyers, Knights of the Habit, and Gentlemen of good Estates: But had baffled them all, one after another, with her Quirques and Subtilties.

An Alcàlde of Sevill, one that was a great Gallant, and an under∣standing man, she discarded, only

to tell him, she would never see her self in the power of Justice.

Another Gentleman of good parts, she sent packing, because alwaies when he visited her (which was very frequently) he asked her how she did; telling him, he was too curious for a Husband, and that she was not for such inquisi∣tive men.

Another, who being in a Play∣house, she observed to take out a pair of Spectacles and look tho∣row them towards the Appartment of the women; she asked (as jea∣lous) what he looked at? He an∣swered (to blind her Jealousies) Madam, I look not at their per∣fections, but at the defects which are in these Ladies. Then, Sir, (said she, with a disdainful look) I care not for a Husband, so great a friend of spying others faults, that to search them out, will discover his

own; I had never known that you had been short-sighted, if you had not been so earnest to pry into these Ladies wants of Beauty.

Of another, because they told her, he knew how to make Verses, she said, she would never love that man who esteemed lying and flat∣tery for a Grace.

On this manner was she come to forty years old, her Father and Mother dead, rather for being ti∣red out with her Whymsies, than for old Age: And now, time began to swear, that if she delayed to ad∣mit Sutes, he would force her, that she her self should be fain to sue, and not without hazzard of a Repulse: She admitted Visits of such as were men of Parts, and was proud to be accounted discreet; and that they might esteem her for a Sybil in the Town, she gave it out, that the most learned men

came to consult her in various con∣ceits daily.

I then made my addresses to her with the Title of a wise Philoso∣pher, and to set off my self to the greatest advantage, rehearsed to her, three or four Sonnets in praise of black Eyes, and half a dozen Stanza's, on white hands, which I had composed in my younger daies, so that with this, and speaking ever and anon very gravely, and as it were suffering my self to be intrea∣ted to it, I passed for a Cato: But I was sorry to find her so wise, for although I was ever a friend of discreet women, yet I would not have them to be more wise than my self, either because equality is al∣waies most beloved, or else be∣cause he goes in danger of being cheated, who deals with one more knowing than himself. Being fear∣ful then of displeasing her, I did

not yet make her sharer of my love, neither indeed was she ever, al∣though I did not (I confess) altoge∣ther dislike her, untill one evening finding her alone, when the doubt∣full light of the day gives most place to bouldness, and best enter∣tains shame: After we had discour∣sed of many things, drawing my Chair nearer towards her Cusheon, whereon she sat on the ground, I thus address'd my self to her:

Madam, the difference between the Wise and the Foolish, is only this, in my opinion; That Wise men do and say, for the most part, that which reason and ingenuity teaches them; But the Foolish, as they are void of one, and the other, follow their own crotchets, or what they see others do: If you were not so discreet I would forbear to tell you a thought, which 'tis long since I have been desirous of acquainting

you with, for I should fear that you would fall into the opinion of the Vulgar, and call that injury, which really is veneration; I have loved you tenderly, since the first time that I saw and spake to you, but I love you with honourable and virtuous intentions; You are pru∣dent, and will not suffer your self to be guided by the Vulgar, for I know they would call it rudeness for a Lover quickly to declare himself. You are governed by reason, and shall see what speaks in my favour; that for a woman to be beloved is a most Glorious thing, 'tis the fruit, 'tis the end and intent of their perfection, and for him that loves her to declare it to her; provided the loving her be not a discourtesie, 'tis the greatest complement he can show, because it is a sign of the more passionate love; For that house is not much

on fire which sends not forth out of its Towers, and Chymnies, such Flames as shall discover it; and small winds lye couch'd in the bow∣ells of the Earth, if they break not an outlet for their roarings; But a great Earth-quake is the sign of a raging battle of the un∣quietness of the Winds.

I love you, Madam, by my own choice; another would say 'twas by the violence of his destiny; I do not, because I will not have Fortune carry away the praise due to your Beauty, and my Affection. The name of this Passion seems Arro∣gant, I call'd it Love, 'twill appear more chast to call it Will; yet this is too cold to express so great a Flame: Love is in Rigour, but yet it is Noble, and prudent; not cove∣tous, not blind, expects no cor∣respondence, asks no reward, be∣cause it has it already; for what

reward like the adoring her that deserves it, for her so Excellent quallifications? This love hath made me become wise, what grea∣ter recompense? You perhaps will say, that being known, it seems no more to be Love; you are in the right; yet for this, it does not cease to be Love: To clear these doubts, let's call it Estimation, and that will sute best with it; Estima∣tion is more than ordinary, which passes to Veneration, in a certain manner, with this it escapes out of dangers, and deserves Gratitude if not Correspondence, Gratitude is not due to him that pays debts; my heart I owed to this Beauty, to this Discretion, I confess it; But in an Age where Gratitude is so little in use, 'tis well there is any who remembers to pay his debts, with so much fidelity. I give suspitions of being interessed by mentioning

services, but they are false suspiti∣ons, I instance them not to facili∣tate a reward, but to keep up esti∣mation; for you being sensible I am such, as that I have known how worthily to adore you, may the more esteem me for this Ingenuity, or at least not accuse your self of indiscretion for doing me the fa∣vour which you do me, by think∣ing that I deserve not to receive it, since to allow me for a wise man, 'tis sufficient for me to understand what you deserve.

She having the vanity to think that the world did believe her a Doctress, and seeing me a Doctor; likeness made us remain friends for that time, so she continued quiet, and in appearance pleased too. After this, I was still in Love, but not so much as before; for confi∣dence (as they say) is the poyson of Love.

A friend of mine went one day to see her without me, whom I used always to carry with me when I visited her, a person of a good Wit, pleasant conversation, and one that was very ingenious in his conceits; They discoursed of di∣vers matters, the conversation was an Italian Salad, a great deal of of the whole, and a little of every thing; but amongst all there was not the least word in remembrance of me, so that I perceived the first kindness had been no more than a courteous liking, which continued in its purity whilest I continued in mine; but that seeing me with a second intention, she had varied hers, and that that slighting me was but a contrivance fairly to shake me off: This having vexed me, I sent Jealousie a hunting for conjectures, which after a while brought me on as clear as truth;

I found that the cause might be her guessing me not equal to her in riches, for Love is so great a friend of equality, that even in riches it desireth it: But yet for all this, I was not affrighted with any Suspiti∣on, that this rejecting me was for my want of handsomness, or of understanding; because I knew already by experience that Love stands not upon that, if it be true (as the Philosophers say) that Love is a desire of beauty; The beau∣ties and perfections, wherein this desire may be imployed, are as many as the very desires and opi∣nions themselves; every one then esteems for beauty, not one certain form, reduced to certain perfecti∣ons, but all such as have a likeness with their own, or agree with their inclination: The Wise man esteems the woman beautiful, that shall be Wise; The Fool accounts for very

beautiful, her that shall be silent, and commends as a virtue, what is but meer necessity; some praise long Faces, others round ones: Then what curious coloured Eyes? what a delicate shaped Mouth? For Hairs the opinions are more than the hairs. Finally, beauty is wholly opinion, and for every opinion there is its beauty apart, and you shall have some say, that Venus and Hellen were but like Kitchin Wenches, nay and but very homely ones neither.

It now grieved me for having declared my mind, since my en∣deavours were frustrated, and that by my confidence too; But in the end I hit upon a plot, rather to make tryal of my suspition, than to purchase any Love by it; for although I was smitten, yet I did not doat on her: I Loved her, but was not enamoured of her; do

you not understand me? Why, I mean, that to Love, and to be smit∣ten, are not the same, as to be ena∣moured, and to doat, for that may be either out of obstinacy, or else for vengance; To doat on her, cannot be but meerly for kindness, or with good liking; now I being vexed at her slights, abhorred her, and her Labyrinths, with a perfect hatred, and me thought that if then I could but make her my own, I would quit the Field, and leave the Conquest, without seizing the Spoils; and would say, It is suffi∣cient I have the glory of being Conquerour.

I therefore faigned my self sick, and began to complain of my Heart, crying out that I had a thou∣sand Vipers in it, and other such Frenzical Speeches, which pain is accustomed to suggest; and had straightly commanded my Servants

not to let any body come in where I lay. Thus for four dayes I was locked up in my Chamber, to put a Colour to my Fraud, that the whole Town already rang of it; at which some of my Friends came to me, with the skilfullest Physitians of the Court; who felt my Pulse, saw my Urine, and with the relation of my complaints and effected Mellancholy, sware my Sickness was mortal: This made all believe it, and I almost believed it too, al∣though I felt my self well and sound; for who could otherwise choose but think it so when four men said it, being the Portraicts of time, in their Age and Beards? In such sort did this fear seise on me, that the day following, in stead of mine, I commanded them to show the Doctors, my Pages water, the most cheerful lively Boy that was in all the Town; they beheld it,

and shrugging their shoulders, sigh∣ing forth fears out of their breasts, with their breath, they said that the Sickness went tyranizing over the heart, and that it daily shewed it self a greater threatener; then I fell into account, that it was not I who was weak, but they, who un∣destood no more of me then what my Servants told them, of my complaints, and greivous Sighings.

When I perceived that I was well, I prosecuted my Imposture, schreiching that all the whole Street heard me, nay and my Wise Mistress too, the cause of my roar∣ings; who without any suspition believed my weakness, yes and almost more than I would have perswaded her; yet for all this, she had not the Courtesie to send me a message to enquire how I did. See but what the inequality of the goods of Fortune could do; now

when I thought that I had had Sicknesses enough to kill me, for the Physicians had given me over, I made my Will; sending to call a faithfull friend, and the Scrivenor, who being both come, I left for heir to near a hundred thousand Duckets of freeGoods, my Mistress, Señora Dona Temeraria, putting in a clause at the end, of my own hand-writing (a thing which plea∣sed the Scrivenor, although he was a Scrivenor) For the tender Love I have born her, and for the Favour which she hath done me, Giving a profound Sigh at the delivering of it to him. Master Doctor (said my Friend to me, infinitly confused) what Goods do you leave to fullfill this Testament? Pray Sir, answered I, content your self till we think how to dispose of those Goods which remain: I have enough to acomplish what I have bequeathed,

in this Inventory they are, that will satisfy its Debts; with this I gave him a large Cattalogue of a vast parcel of rich Goods, which were enough for my Testament: This was an Action that more quallified me for a Fool, and even put me with every one into the opinion, that I was a Mad-man.

No sooner was the Scrivenor gone out of my Chamber, but went to ask a reward for his good tydings, of my Heiress; relating to her all my Will; and Counselling her that she should cause Masses to be said, that God would take me to Heaven; not so much because he should take me to Heaven, as that he might take me away. The Gentlewoman hearing this new ex∣cess of my Love, immediately with∣out the least Moments delay, took her Chair and Servants, and laying aside all consideration of the ho∣nour

of her Virginity, was brought sadly weeping to my Lodging; and as if I had really been her Hus∣band, came to my Bed side, began to embrace me, and besprinkle my face with her tears, thinking my Sickness was caused by her disdains, and that her favours would also recover me.

Oh! Vain Women! Who is so much a Fool as not to treat you as you treat us: I Sick? I Dye for Love? Are you in your Wits? Are you the descreet Lady? We shall see presently; I suffered her to use her tender expressions, let her cry and commit her Extrava∣gancies, faigning my self so near death as not to know her. Now there were met together in this room a great company of my Friends, and acquaintance; and this seeming to me a good occasion for my Revenge, throwing off the

Cloaths from the Bed with great nimbleness, I leapt into the Floor, ••eady drest, and not a little gallant, ••hen seated my self in a Chair, put∣ting them into no small admiration, and said thus:

Gentlemen, all this was no more but a meer Drollery, an Amorous Stratagem, I counterfited Love, and 'twas but Waggary; I was bred up in Madrid not in the For∣rests of Arcadia, and have learnt to be aware of Mischiefs, by other mens examples. This Lady, who for a thousand Excellencies de∣serves Veneration, was the Idol of mine; I loved her most cordially, and with no less respect, and causi∣on; with a just end, and with a courteous and honourable intention: Now whilst she supposed I equal∣led her in riches, she almost equal∣led me in correspondence; but when she understood that I came

short, she took from me of her Love such a proportionable quantity as I wanted of Estate. I resented this, and having always been curi∣ous, and delighted to examin the reasons of things; I had a mind to know what they were, which had frozen a Correspondence so pure, and so well defended: To that end I faigned a Sickness at my Heart, yet have ever had it sound, for though I might sometime have had wounds in it, yet disdains were a balm which comforted and healed them; think not then that there can be any Love without corre∣spondence, for 'tis impossible. One Love calls another Love, one liking chains with it another liking; contempts only produce contempts; it is natural for every thing to beget its likeness. I was pleased with her, but not in Love; had some little Itchings after her,

but not enamoured with her: In my Will, I confess, I left her my Heiress, but of Goods which I ne∣ver was owner of. No sooner did she perceive me liberal, and rich, but her love was re-kindled, which had lain hid amongst her kindnesses. Do not suppose me fortunate in my Loves, for I never was so: she ne∣ver pityed me as being the Doctor Ceñudo; but as being rich, she la∣mented me. It was not I, but my hundred thousand Duckats that enamoured her. My revenge might have passed forwarder, and I have Marryed her, she being rich, beau∣tiful, and discreet, but that revenge would have been soundly to my cost; no, I am not for a Wife that dispises me for the false shadows of Wealth. You gave me the name of Fool for my excessive Love, but you condemned me without hear∣ing me; Now judge what you

please of it, since you have heard me.

I had scarce said this, when the whole company burst out into laughter, for till then, Admiration had kept them silent. The Fair Ingrate was so ashamed at this acci∣dent, that without speaking a word, covering her red blushes with her black Vail, she in all hast went her way. The Physicians came pre∣sently afterwards to ask if I was not yet expired; and seeing me well, sware they would burn all their Books: But every one ap∣plauded the action for the most pleasant that they had ever seen, or heard of.

CHAP. V. To Don Felix, the Fool gives account of his Love with Donna Dorothea, which was the principal occasion of this Discourse.

WIth this Conversation, the Doctor Ceñudo diverted his sadness, which Don Felix listned to with great at∣tention, being delighted to hear the ingenuity of his Stories, and newness of his Jests. And now that the Holy-days were passed, it seemed an unjust thing that Donna Dorothea should be cooped up in that restraint, which cost her Pa∣rents so many cares and tears. One

afternoon therefore, finding him in a better than ordinary humour, and proposing these inconvenien∣cies to him, he pressed him, that he would tell him the Centre to which his intentions were directed. But the Doctor, who with a fair Wind was under Sail in his History, with the breath which Don Felix had given him, by his silence and applause, sware not to satisfy him in any thing, until he should have heard the rest of the Story of his Life, which was but little, yet ne∣cessary for the bringing forth the birth of his conceit, that all his good haps befell him for being a Fool, and all his misfortunes for being a Wise-man; his misfortunes ('tis true) were not many, because his wise actions were but few; but his good fortunes were many, be∣cause his follies were many.

Don Felix agreed to his proposal, intreating him to be brief, in re∣gard that the case held him in sus∣pence, and suspence is the Martyr∣dom of the Understanding; the Doctor promised him, and proceed∣ed thus.

Fortune now called at my Dore with a pleasing countenance, It seeming to her that in me by my being a Fool, she had such a Mini∣ster of her Absurdities, that she needed take no care where I was, but might sheath up all her crosses and troubles, at least in the Pro∣vince where I should be a foolish Judge; since I alone was sufficient for the scourge of a whole Nation. This blind Woman called to her remembrance, how well I obeyed her being Teniente, or Deputy, when I badly served the King, and with this, her confidence rested secure; for it seem'd she more sollicited my advancement, than I my self;

but Heaven that hath as many eyes, as Stars, to look after the conservation of the World; fore∣seeing that it would remain idle, if I was permitted to be a Judge, and man of Power: because I should not have left a man alive, on whom it might imploy from thenceforward its motion and influence; therefore prevent∣ed the danger, which was now threatned; and that too, with as much prudence and generosity, as as it is accustomed.

It happened then, that being one day in a Bookseller's Shop, near Sancta Cruze, I saw an old Priest dragg'd away to Prison, with great severity, and with the Algua∣zil or Bailiff, that carryed him to the Vicars Prison, went an antient man, who filled the streets with his clamours; crying, It is no Justice, It is no Justice, that this shou'd be

suffered amongst Christians. I came running at the noise, and was scarce got to them, when the Priest that was the Prisoner, catching fast hold of me, said, 'tis he doubtless, although he has a Beard, without question 'tis he; When I saw my self embraced, and almost kist, by a Man whom as might be guessed they were carrying to Prison for some hainous offence, I thought that he taxed me for an Accom∣plice in it, at which I was ready to lose my Wits, and began to cry out, I am not, (I vow,) for I'm a Son of very honest Parents, and would not have committed what you have done, for the whole World.

The revengeful old Man, he that made the noise, asked me who was my Father? I much more en∣flamed with anger, told him, my Father was a very good Christian, and so taught me to be, and was

as good a Gentleman, as who is best, and never was said of him any thing that was not very holy and very creditable: They well know in Madrid who the Licenti∣ate Don Diego Hernandez was, and if I have any thing of goodness re∣markable in me, it is the being his Son; I had scarce said this, when the same old Man reply'd; He speaks truth, 'tis He, doubtless 'tis He; and coming to me embraced me very straightly: I that was still in my false suspicions, and believed that they meant to apprehend me, and that that was to hold me fast, and not to embrace me; began to exclaim, saying, I'le take my Oath 'tis a false Testimony, for I'm an ho∣nest Man; at which the old Man that held me, brake out into a laughter, saying; by this out-cry I should have known him amongst a Quire of Singing-Men, for such

foolish clamours could only come from Pedro Hernandez. Why Ne∣phew (said the Priest) leave off your noise, and take notice that this Gentleman is the Executor of your Father, who dyed Judge of the Contratacion of Sevil, and comes to seek you out, to fulfil his last Will, and because I gave him not a good account of your Per∣son, they were carrying me to Goal.

I begg'd pardon for my surpri∣sal, and after they had embraced me once more, we went to their lodging together, sending away the Bailiff; where being come, and all quiet, the good Gentle∣man related to me, how that my Father, through the desire he had of seeing Spain, and dying where he was born; had sued for, and obtained a place in the Contrata∣cion of Sevil; to which end, ha∣ving

embarqued himself, and put to Sea, that in his return home∣ward, my Mother had dyed, and he fell sick of so violent a disease, as that in three days after his land∣ing at Sevil, he also ended his life, leaving me in his Will, the one half of his Estate; the other being to be divided betwixt his other two Sons, which he had had in the Indies.

I shewed the resentment due for so great a loss, and gave Signs of more than I really had: By which I perceived, that when we lament some dead person, we do not grieve for the evil that hath befallen him; for if he go to Hea∣ven, he hath had none befallen him at all; and if to Hell, neither doth he deserve to be lamented for, since he hath what he deserves; nor yet if he goes to Purgatory, in regard he hath hopes of Glo∣rie;

we do not then bewail him, but our want of him, and if we want him not, we never bewail him.

I, now seeing that at his death, he left me well provided for, was not much affected, but yet re∣mained sad; considering that a man begins to die, when his Father, his Mother, or his Brother dies; they comforted me with discreet Arguments, but for the comforts of an Orphan, there are none so efficacious as Philippus Hispaniarum Rex stamped on the dead mans Cash, which he leaves.

Afterwards, when the Gentle∣man saw me somewhat comforted, he took out the Will, which he kept in a Cabinet, and passing over some Clauses, he read to me one which said thus:

ANd forasmuch as Pedro Her∣nandez my Son is an Ignorant, a Fool, an Ideot, and incapable of any Art, Imployment, or Trade, whereby to mantain himself, and live hand∣somely in the World; I make provi∣sion for him before his Brethren a∣forefaid, bequeathing him the one half of my Goods: And I will and require that one half of my Estate be given him, and settled for a perpetual In∣heritance, to pass to the Ideots, and Fools, which shall descend from my said Son, and not to the eldest by any means, unless he shall be a Fool, and uncapable; In consideration that he hath a better Inheritance, more hap∣pie and more durable, to whom Hea∣ven hath given Wisdom, and Parts, to maintain himself, and raise him an Estate. And whereas my two Sons aforesaid Diego and Ferdinando, are persons able and sufficient to gain

much Wealth; I desire, and it is my Will, that they content themselves with their proportions.

This Sir, I had a mind to read to you, (added he then) that you might be comforted; no less than full Four Thousand Duckats a year Rent, are those, which for an Inhe∣ritance fall to your share, all well disposed in good order; for your Father (who now is in Heaven) settled his Estate with much pru∣dence.

Here you see me Heir to Four Thousand Duckats a year, only by being a Fool; Do you think this was an indifferent action of my Father? Be not so ignorant, for how could he commit Follies who was a Judge? what is more just, than to succour them who cannot succour themselves? to leave Wealth to those who know

not how to gain it? To me, I am sure, that Clause seemed the most just, prudent, and holy that ever was made. The Executor and my Unkle having instructed me in all things concerning my Estate, and the means which I should use to receive my Rents; afterwards the one returned to Sevil, and the other to Odòn.

Then seeing my self Master of Four Thousand Duckats a year, I sold all my Law-Books, and sware never more to follow any Im∣ployment relating to that Facultie whilst I liv'd. Now you are to know, that among all my Glories, the greatest which I ever desired, was to be esteemed by all sorts of People; and this sprang from the great esteem I always had of my self. The reason wherefore I call it, the greatest of my Glories, to be esteemed; is, because estima∣tion

or love, as it is founded on meritorious parts, is a Sign, that the Man who is esteemed or be∣loved, hath eminent ones. Rich and great Men cannot make this tryal, because a rich Man may be esteemed for his Riches, but not for his Person, and natural endow∣ments; Love may entertain it self with his Gallantry, Ornament, and Power, which being so splendid and beautiful, beget more esteem, and love, than their Master, who perchance is a dull Coxcomb, and and of no parts. Amongst great Men there is the same dangers, be∣cause the respect which all pay them, rather seems a tribute of their fear, than of their love, which never was tributary to any.

I encountred both these dan∣gers, and was much troubled to think, that being a Judge, or be∣ing a rich Man, I knew not whe∣ther

or no I had any true friends, or that I had only forced ones; I feared I should live in a perpetual errour with my self in respect of false friendships, wherein great Men are lost, know nothing but flatteries and addulations. So I withdrew my hand from my pre∣tentions at Court, and laid it upon my Estate, concealing it with so great artifice, that no body but you, thinks I am any more than a poor Doctor: On this manner I enjoy all the Priviledges of Pover∣tie and goods of Riches, without tasting the bitterness of the one, or of the other: If at any time I succour the necessitie of some friend, as I have not the opi∣nion of one that hath much to spare, 'tis entertained with more gratitude; If I give any thing, it seems more than what it is, my low Fortune being considered.

There is no cunning Thief meddles with me; at the report of my not having means enough for my self; no Woman desires me for a Husband, although she may wish I was her gallant, thinking I have not an estate sufficient, to keep her a Coach; these and other conveniencies I enjoy, by conceal∣ing my Estate.

I keep two Servants of my own Humour, faithful, and ingenious; I have the House that you see adorned with Pictures, and Books, which flatter my Goust; no one hath yet seen it, I permit not any body to go into this inner Room.

In midst of this good fortune, I fell in Love with Doña Dorotea one morning, being St. John's Day, as she was walking like a Nimph, on the Banks of the * 1.28 Manzanares, to affront the Suns

Rayes, with hers; and having her Hair disheveld, playing with the gentle Winds, I saw her near the Park, and straitwaies swear she was going a hunting, and her Eyes did not belye it, since they made me their prey: What need Bowes and Muskets? if there be Wounding Eyes; What need mil∣litary preparations? if there be Beautious Eyes; such were hers, and they were doubly valiant, in regard they kill'd, and kill'd at at small expence of their forces; her glaunces were sufficient for any destruction.

The time of the Morning, which now had raised Venus a∣bove the Horizon, seemed pro∣per for Courtship, and opportune for the admiting of Lovers amo∣rous Caresses; I took Courage, spake to her in that wanton Stile, which the babes of her Eyes

prompted me to; I found, I know not what welcome reception in them, which assured my hope; I followed her, learnt her House, the quality of her Parents, and all other Circumstances; yet thought it not convenient to Court her in Publick, my Age and profession requiring the contrary; but found out a trick, how to vi∣sit her by night; for She, and her Mother, were great friends of a Lady of my kindred, and by this means I easily had access to them; so that that passed for courtesie which really was love.

Six Months are now expired, since I have wrestled with her disdains, and that with so much caution, as not only my Rivals, but even she her self, knows not how far the empire of Love is ex∣tended over me. I was fearful of incurring the like hazzard as

I did with my discreet chastized Mistress, who because I declared my self briefly to her, though cunningly, she, from her grace and favour which before I enjoyed, utterly cast me off, and forsook me; as she did in the e∣vent her own credit and honour. I therefore spake to this, Lovingly, but with so many several faces, every sentence; that if she had a mind, it should appear Court∣ship, she might make it appear Courtship; if courtesie, courtesie; if Love, Love.

One Christmas night I came to her House, at a time when she and her Mother, were getting into a Coach; I seeing them ready to go forward, would not speak to them, but stept up into the Coach∣box, and the Coachman getting up on one of his Horses as it is usual, left me his place, supposing

me to be the Gentleman-usher of those Ladies; I laid my ear to the window of the Coach whilst we were going towards the Carmelites Church, and heard this discourse: Why hath not (said the Mother) this Foolish Doctor been here to night? but he is elsewhere play∣ing the Wise man, I'le lay my life on't: What a tiresome Coxcomb he is? Is it possible any one should think to overcome us by meer Arguments, as he does? We are Women, not conclusions. Indeed (said Doña Dorotea) he is of a pleasant humour; I am confident he is now making Christmas Carols for some Zealous Nunn of his Acquaintance, for it is not possible, but such a talka∣tive man must needs be a Devoto of the Nunns. What a confident Fool is he of his whimsies? he believes that with every conceit

he subdues a heart: 'Tis a won∣der to me, to think that in so much Schollarship, should be couched so much Folly; Then how does he bedrivel his Chops at every word; God de∣liver me from so Flegmatick a Fellow; For my part I am per∣swaded, he expects at every sen∣tence, the Auditors in his ap∣plause, should answer with an Amen. Has this man Meat to his Mouth? reply'd the Mother, surely if he had any thing to keep his Teeth in imployment, he would not be so vain: 'Tis meer hunger forces him to this.

Nay there is nothing in the World, said Doña Dorotea, like the hearing him pave my Head and Face, with all kinds of Stones; The other day I kept account, and found that I had by his reckoning in my Eyes, Cheeks,

Lips, and Hair, above a Hun∣dred pretious Jewels. I assure you (said the Mother at that, in a great laughter) he courts thee for Marriage, what fine folly is this? He is wondrous wise, certainly he knows not that the Licentiate Campuzano, has fewer words and more deeds; Come come, that man is tollerable; who though he be but a conceited Asse, yet he is rich, and hath what we have need of; In good truth I resolve to tell him my mind, since he hath told me his, and we will strike up a match with him, out of hand; these matters admit of no delay; for men there are, who in the morning will be mad for Love, and after dinner more hard-hearted then Pharoah; to morrow he'l come to give us the good Christ∣mas, and in good earnest we will take it, and will make up the

Match; for thou art now grown a Woman, and it is a shame thou shouldst be without a Husband.

At this, we came to the Church where they went in to Mattins, but I, in the dark, staid at the door, Muffled up with my Cloak, and in a brown studdy, finding my self more touched at her scorns, then enamoured of her beauty, therefore projected my revenge, and thus it was: When they came forth; the Coach-man was not there, for he was gone to the Hermitage of St. Martin hard by, to clear his Throat with a glass of Wine. Pedro, said they, bring the Coach forward; I got up into the Coach-mans place, and brought the Coach for them to come in, they entred and drew the Curtains, for it was now past two of the Clock, and they feared the sharpness of the Air; I drave

on the Coach, being full of rage and spite, and leaned back my ear to have drank in more unde∣ceivings, but they spake not a word, for they were both nodding.

Seeing them in this case, instead of carrying them to their own House; I brought them to mine, by the back dore, which in re∣gard it is on the right hand of this Street, and seems in the Porch somewhat like theirs; besides what might a little excuse them, drowsiness also deceived them; so they alighted, came in, and I presently sent away their Coach, by one of my Servants, with command to leave it at the dore of their house; and after that the other had carried aside Doña Dorotea into a Private Room, by her self, made handsome for her; the Mother was sent home in a Chair, in the very

same manner as the Licentiate Campuzano related to us here.

Since when, you have heard, and seen, all that which hath hap∣pened in this Room; Particularly the second day of Christmas, you knew the State of the fears of Doña Dorotea, and of her Parents. I know all that already, said Don Felix, and therefore admire you have so little regard to what is due to the quality of this Gentlewoman, that you so endanger her honour and credit, by a way, from which you draw so little profit. If she shall get any blemishes in her re∣putation, said the Doctor, and not deserve them, let it be at my cost: I will salve them up by Marrying her; but if she merit them, how am I faulty? This is Revenge, not ill usage; Defence, not injury.

What do you mean to do with

her, (said Don Felix) that you are become such a Tantalus, with your temptations before your eyes? I am in Labour (answered the Doctor) with a Thousand thoughts; God direct me for the best. I, my Friend, am a Modern Philosopher, and that you may not think it strange, you must know, that what the Antient Impostors called Philosophy, the Severe Ca∣stillians call Sloathfulness. Now I am of this Sect, and ever have an Eye to my quiet and ease; At all times when my nature in∣clines me to any entertainment, before I yield my self for con∣quered; I make this compact with it, and say to it, Take care that I may be Master in my de∣lights, and that you give me plea∣sure, without Counterpoiz: Ma∣trimony 'tis true, is a holy thing, but more holy is Matyrdome, and

ends the Life; seeing then this sweet attended with so much bit∣terness, I made a halt, drew forth my feet, and told my nature, 'twas not this I sought for; and yet I am not so free, but that I feel some Reluctancies in my heart, which suffers me not to go into Port.

I could willingly thrust my self into holy Matrimony, being thus pricked forward with Love, as I am; if I might find in Doña Dorotea, any spark of that glory, which we call correspondence, which could we but be sure of, I hold it for undenyable that Mar∣riage would be the most plea∣sant and happy state of Mor∣tals.

This is my Calm, this is my suspence; for proof of this, I spend all my discourse; and for this reason, I keep the Delinquent

Prisoner, untill she shall have stood the tryal of her Offence, which is great; for for her to en∣amour with ingratitude, is a crime of Falsity, which is commit∣ted, by adulterating the Seals of Love, since nothing can enamour without Love; and she hath enamoured me, counterfeiting Love,

Give me leave, said Don Felix, if you please, by the ancient Friendship which we profess, that I may call Foolery what you have stil'd Philosophy, and may prove, that this, which you esteemed discretion, and have taken so much pains to express, is a most absurd Folly; For what Excellency, I beseech you, in your person can you pretend, that this Lady should bear you Love? you'l say, be∣cause you are an understanding man; and it may be too, you'l

say a Gallant. But let us stop upon the first: Either she is Wise, or else she is Foolish; if Foolish, she's blameless, because she is uncapable of making a good Election; or you are not her like, since you are discreet; if she be Wise, without doubt, she will not affect you; because she will consider, you have the repute of being a Poor man, or because it is the misfortune of the Wise, to be alwayes envyed of the Wise. Have you not observed that men of Excellent parts, have never been admired by others of Excellent parts; because every one would have the glory to him∣self, not some share of glory, but the grand title of Prime, Excellent and Only; besides we never desire what we possess; if this Gentle∣woman be discreet, why should she desire a discreet Husband.

If you were a Fool, and should not speak a word to her, but what was in commendation of her rare quallifications, and endowments; she would have reason to esteem you: For what Preacher is there who hath not a greater kindness for that Fellow-brother, who sits sleeping the one half of the Ser∣mon while, and the other half studdying Complements to applaud it: Then for some great Master, who carries away from him both the glory, and Auditory. Yet this baseness the most wise men have, that they know not how to make way for their own praise; unless they trample upon the heads of others; they cannot pass for∣ward, without stumbling on him that goes before.

Your good countenance (for certain) could not enamour her; because hers is something better,

and hath less beard. This you must consider, if any thing can make her in Love, it will be the seeing some Excellent thing in you, which she hath not, and she a mind to have it; for all desires are so conceived: But you have been so great a Coxcomb, that having four thousand Duckats a year (which might make Four thousand Maids fall in Love with you, because 'tis a beautiful thing, and what every one has not) you not only, have not boasted of them, but have rather concealed them. Of what then do you complain? Stu∣dy how to make her in Love with you, and fly not from one conceit to another, for so you will be ac∣counted but a Mad-man.

You say somewhat (said the Doctor very gravely) you say some∣what; this conceit hath not seem∣ed ill to me, for 'tis new, handsome

and discreet. Be confident, you have spoken a thing, that were you a Stranger, would quallify you for a most incomparable man. I am considering on it, and at every instant, it seems better and better; I say, 'tis very well spo∣ken; with great reason certainly you are my Friend; For there ought to be a Sympathy in Wits. I now yield my self conquered, and confess I have been a Fool; and from this Moment, resolve to declare my mind fully to Doña Dorotea, and to muster up all these advantages, wherewith of force, I must make her in Love with me.

But because this Yoak of Mar∣riage, is wont to endure all ones Life, I would be glad to build on sure grounds; I will examine this Gentlewoman before hand, to know if Madrid hath not infused

its Follies into her; for I have heard, (of I know not what Phi∣losopher) that the Earth hath also its Influencies; the rough, breeds rough ill natured persons; the smooth and pleasant, those that are milde and pleasing: And Madrid as it is a plainCountry, promises a plain Easie disposition, which gives me some small encouragement. That I will allow you to do, with all my heart, said Don Felix, and leaving him now less heretical in his Opi∣nions, he took his leave for that time, offering, with earnestness his Assistance, to the performing of that enterprize.

CHAP. VI. The Doctor makes tryal of the Constancy of Dorotea.

DOn Felix, seeing he began to get the upper hand of the Doctor, by force of Arguments; assumed fresh Vigour and Courage, to prosecute his Conquest; and one day de∣termined to speak boldly to him, taking confidence, from his Victo∣ry in the past encounters. He went then, carrying in his head his design, how to leave him redu∣ced; and found the Doctor, with a little Book in his Hand, and with his Eyes fixt on the Joysts of the Room, so diverted, that he never

saw his Friend enter, nor regarded his courtesie, but was speaking aloud these frenzical words:

Not without cause, Oh great Son of Venus; Generous Heroe! The most Eloquent, the most High, the most Polite, and most Exqui∣site of all the Poets, celebrated thee; Not without cause, thou meritest the Pen of that Swan, whose Song is no conjecture, nor presage of Death, but an assurance of Life; which kills not, but ra∣ther Immortalizeth. This same is an exploit! This is a Victory! This is a Tryumph! I mean not, to have trod with a Scornful Foot, on the daring flames of that fire, which did not pardon the very brass; Not to have escaped the devouring Jaws of Scylla and Cha∣ribdis; Not the going down to the Dark Island, the Kingdom of Miseries; Not to lull asleep the

Dog of Hell, to entertain, and play with its furies, and to affright its Guards; Not to have vanqui∣shed so many Armies, and in a strange Country. In all these Actions he had competitors: Ulysses escaped the Dangers of the Sea with fewer Mariners: Hercules and Orpheus went down to Hell, and both without the help of witch∣craft, or industry of Sybill: Alexander made the most remote Kingdomes his own, by force of Armes: But to fly from a lovely, and amorous Woman, who with her Beauty, and her charms; layes as it were an Impregnable Seige of Diamonds; none hath done it, but thou, O Valiant AEneas! Thou alone, thou alone, deservest the Sownding Monument, the Sweet Pyramid, the Numerous Eternity, of the Incomparable Virgil. Oh that I might imitate thee! Oh that

I might give occasion to the Spa∣nish Wits! that with equal desire, if with less fortune, they might, from time to time, from generation to generation, declare this my Valour to posterity; yet there shall an Age come, wherein my Story shall serve for terrour, and admiration; the Aged Father, shall tell it to his hair-brain'd Son, to animate him by my Example to de∣spise Love: The sage Historian shall write it amongst the marvails of this Age, and shall put applause and remark in the Margent, with glo∣rious attributes, to so high a work. But whether go I? the Heavens I fear, will not deliver me to the memory of men, with so much advantage, to be applauded and commended for my Wit; I shall certainly incurr the hazzard of be∣ing accounted a Fool, in future Ages: They will call Dullness in

me, what in AEneas appeared to be greatness of Courage; and yet, that is not what Ambition suggests to me.

But pardon, great Poet, for now I understand thee; Now I know that in the closets of thy imagi∣nation, thou called'st his determina∣tions Follies; It was a Dexterity of thy flattery, that undertook to lay heaps of precious Stones at his Feet, who deserved to be sto∣ned; thou flattered'st Augustus at that time, making him believe it was a glorious thing, to be recko∣ned in the Rank of his Predeces∣sors; herein was a Masterpeice also of thy Wit; it was the Gallan∣try of thy Eloquence, with false colours to ex toll naked Trunks, barren desarts.

And yet Claudian pleases me better, being a less flatterer and more free; he introduces Pluto,

who in the midst of his blind Empire, asks a Wife of Jupi∣ter, with the intreaties of a Bro∣ther; and forgetful of the ine∣quality between his Kingdome, and those of the other gods; he is onely envious, he is onely angry, at the advantage they have of him, in having Wives: This he requests as in recompense of his troubles; With this he thinks, he needs not envy the Sea, nor Heaven, the Kingdoms of his brothers. What Heaven, like a Woman, beautiful, discreet and pleasing? Here the Eyes, portray the Stars; Here the Hair, resembles the Light dif∣fused abroad; The sweet Voice imitates the Charms of their Mo∣tion; and all the whole appear∣ance, illustrated by a courtious pleasingness, is the Picture of the whole Heaven, when most Serene.

Don Felix had scarcely heard him finish this rapture, when, laughing heartily, he came to the enamoured Doctor, and taking him by the hand, said: This is what I say, this is my Theam, pray let us understand one another better; You are in hast to come to your desired ends betimes, yet seek ways to go about to them. Make an end, Sir, why do you destroy your self, with your conceits? You might have learnt experience from the evil, which threatens you, for being Wise; since you have never been so by neglect in all your life, which has not left you a punishment for it.

'Tis not long (replyed the Doctor) since I was big with this thought, and cursed my Fortune, for bringing my Judgment to this estate of Perfection; for I assure you, I pass my solitary hours, the

most troublesomely, with this my Judgment, since it is become Doctor, as can be imagined; for having it so lively, so swift, and so clear; nothing can be concealed from it, it comprehends and penetrates all things. The case stands so with me, that I should do much Injustice to my love, if I should think to avail my self by discourse, I confess it possesseth me wholly, insomuch that it leaves no place for Reason, wherein to employ it self; You who are free from my passions tell me, not as a Friend, but as a Law-giver, your Judgment in this; and suppose you are taking in your hands, a little soft Wax plyable and disposed to receive any im∣pression or form; for I can promise you no small hopes of my cure, since at least it is prudence to con∣fess, that I my self have none, and obediently to ask it of you.

Don Felix taking hold of the li∣berty that was given him. There is onely one tryall (said he) of Doña Dorotea to be made, which may give you any trouble; and that is to know if she be fickle, or constant. Let this be the trick; she thinks already, she is in some Noble-mans house. You may feign your self to be the German Am∣bassador; and invite all your friends to Dinner; ordering them that they come cloathed like Embassa∣dors of several Nations, as of England, of France, of Savoy, of Venice, and of Persia; you may make them a splendid Banquet; and let it be in a place, where she may peep and see it all, and believe it to be real; this being done, let me alone to tempt her; as for the rest, the effect will show.

The Doctor embraced him for this Plot, and so well approved of

it, that he said, By the Life of the Emperour, this is what I could have wisht for; and gave him in charge to invite the Guests, and provide them with Cloaths, at some Stage-players. Don Felix did so, and the next day, Eight merry Blades, met together in a Room, which was richly dressed up, where they all sat down at the Table in great State, to an excellent entertainment; and it was pleasant to see how well their disguise became them.

In an Inner Room stood Doña Dorotea at bo-peep, accompanyed by Don Felix, the counterfeit Steward of the German Embassa∣dor; she was astonished and al∣most distracted to see her self in that marvellous slavery, which Don Felix perceiving, said, 'Tis now high time, Madam, that you should know the end which your admira∣tion may expect.

Arnaldo Boni my Lord Ambassa∣dor of Germany, fell passionately in Love with your Beauty, one day when by chance he saw you, destroying the Gallants of the Prado with it; and being straight∣ned betwixt his desires, and the Extraordinary Majesty of his Of∣fice, that would not permit him at your House, to wait on you, and court you, in obedience to his great Love; he determined by means of Servants and his Friends to steal you away; which he did as you know too well, it having since cost you many a sad Tear; yet would he not force your will, for it is no glory, among such great Princes, to use violence in Love: Therefore above all his Ambitions he desires you will account him for yours, and amongst other pled∣ges which he gives you as a Testi∣mony of his Love, he delivers you

the excellent furniture, which you see adorns his house; and promi∣ses to make you so rich that you shall be coveted in Marriage, by more then a few Gallants; you are discreet and cannot choose but see, that in gaining so much, there's nothing lost.

It seemed Don Felix infused shame in at her Ears, not words, by that which filled all her Face; but after it had given her leisure in her breast, to send forth her breath at her Mouth; with many Arguments intermixed with tears, (which not to make sad the hearer I forbear to relate) she made show of her noble Spirit, and of the greatness of her Courage; telling him, that Germany had not trea∣sures enough, to recompense the least neglect of her chastity. Don Felix added threats, but it was but to add Snow to her; for

they all found her but more frozen to his Suit.

The Steward left her, with ge∣stures that threatned she should fare worse for this disdainful resolution; and coming to the Doctor of Ger∣many's Ear, he told him somewhat in secret, which invited the Curi∣osity of the rest of the Embassa∣dors, to take notice of it, parti∣cularly that of the Great Turk; who holding a large Cup of Wine in his hand, to pledge a Health, said, I swear by Mahomet not to drink this Health, till I know the cause that holds your Excellency in such suspense: The Doctor (sit∣ting hid behind a huge pair of Spectacles, which covered his whole Face, and yet there remain∣ed Glass enough to have served his Neighbour) gave a good thump upon the Table, with which he threw down all on the Ground,

and feigning a desperate passion, begal to cry out, saying; Bring me her hither, bring me her hither presently, for I'le have her be∣headed.

Don Felix came like an Executi∣oner for the poor Gentlewoman, and had but little trouble to bring her, for fear had almost struck her dead, that she could only ask Don Felix, if the Ambassador was a Christian or not; and then was brought to the Tribunal, just at the time that the German was tear∣ing for Anger a Flaxen Beard, Spick and Span new, which a little before had cost him a Crown; when Doña Dorotea saw so violent a Cho∣ler, she thought she had the Knife already at her Throat; and she thought not much amiss, for the German no sooner saw her in his presence, when snatching up a Knife which by chance he found amongst

the Fragments of the ruined Table, he went towards her, like an inra∣ged Monster; But the Ambassador of France (who was a handsome man, and above all a Courter and Servant of Ladies) withheld his Arm; by which means, for that time, he suspended the Sacrifice.

They all then cry'd out, where∣fore is this disturbance? why is all this uproar, before so many illustrious persons? At these re∣proofs the German Ambassador was a little calmer, and intreating their Attention, began thus:

I, by neglect, fell (not long since) in Love with this poor piti∣ful Wench; stole her, and offered her the richest Jewels which I brought with me from Germany; but she is so Foolish, and so Stupid, as she answers me, That my Nation hath not a Jewel which can deserve her. This is it, that puts me be∣sides

my self; Let therefore the most Sober, the most Prudent, and the most Temperate of you all, judge what punishment she de∣serves; and let him first consider that this would be, to give place to too much liberty; if it should be permitted, that an inconsidera∣ble Foolish woman, should stand it out against an Ambassador, and with so much impudence, to insist upon her liberty.

Scarcely had the German Am∣bassador said this, when by strange Gestures, and mysterious signes, they all gave to understand, that the crime was notorious, and wor∣thy of exemplary punishment; And after a little pause, the Persian Ambassador who was a Eunuch, or at least appeared so to be; said, That it was very impartant, to∣wards the publick good of all Nations; that, that woman, should

be torn Limb from Limb, for being insolent, and a Rebel to Love, and Riches; and that every one of the Ambassadors should carry away his piece, to terrifie others with it. Another aledged that it was not needful, because there were not in the world, any more of that humour.

The English Ambassador (who was a Gentleman of a pleasing and milde aspect) said, That not only she did not deserve death, but ra∣ther an imortal Statue of shining brass to be erected in her memory, for being the only contemner of Moneys. He of Venice was for making a Nunn of her, and draw∣ing out of the Cloyster in her stead, the first Nunn that should come to hand.

On this hazzard, ran the life of the disdainful Lady; and after the final debate, it seemed the

major part consented to the ta∣king away of her life, in regard some had been for the putting her into a Nunnery, and some for tear∣ing her peice meal, which in effect was all one. The sentence therefore being thus decreed; The Steward carryed her from thence, so dismaid, and so seized with fear, that death had almost plaid his part already with her; And whilest the punishment was preparing for her, the Ambassador of Germany made an Oration to the illustrious Senate, on this manner:

Most Prudent and Faithful Freinds, I have desired this Lady (the honour of our Age) with a perfect love; I have acquainted her with my desires, like a Lover; and have confirmed them, as a person of my quality ought to do; yet neither time, nor my kind

treatment, have been sufficient, to work her to favour me; There's no brass so hard, as her obstinacy; wherefore seeing that no intreaties, nor kindness could prevail: I be∣took my self to threats, and vio∣lence; Yet did but flatter my imagination, to think that fear could do more than Love; so that one remains as much ashamed, as the other is desperate. You have now been witnesses of her constan∣cy, and courage more than hu∣mane. She hath passed such a Tryal, as might be said to equal, if not exceed, that of Lucretia and of Portia. But 'tis my misfortune, that I was never in Love with any woman, though of never so mean a Condition, nor never so much unacquainted with Courtship; who became not colder then Ice to me. A Thousand times I have been resolving to compass my de∣sires

by Marrying, which although it be a hard Chapter; I shall do but as the Patient, who suffers his Arm to be cut off, to preserve his life; Mine knows not how to get recep∣tion, where this my enchantment is not: But her mean fortune contra∣dicts this determination; she's a poor Woman, a Woman of a contempti∣ble quality; and yet that's not to be considered, if she be Discreet, if she be Beautiful, if she be Constant, and Chaste, above all those whom Histo∣ries Celebrate. He who thinks that riches and Ornament of Soul and body may be found, in one only Subject, little knows the freaks and irregularities, of for∣tune; since he observes not, that she very seldom distributes her Treasure, amongst persons of the greatest deserts: Now he that hath but the least grain of under∣standing, may easily perceive that

this being so, 'tis a happy choice which employes me, in the sove∣raign and chiefest goods; not in those which look on things varia∣ble, and unconstant. For this rea∣son I assembled you, for this reason I made the shews of Anger, which so much have astonished you. The boasting of my greatness by my wealth, and by my cruelty, was not enough, to shake her constant and firme breast: What greater testimony can there be of her ver∣tue; and of the happiness of my choice? Tell me now your opini∣ons; for although you think, you see me byassed, and altogether swayed by my own appetite; I am not so much, as that it denies me a better Judgment, and more pru∣dent Counsel.

They all applauded the Doctors management of his plot, with great signs of admiration. Is this the

Fool? cryes one. How few (says another) have we in the World, so ingenious as this man? Assu∣redly, continues a third, he has a notable head-peece of his own. Thus was his Doctorship commen∣ded, and extoll'd by all the Monar∣chies of the Universe; Who, at last consulting together what was fittest to be done, in this business; unanimously agreed and thought it convenient, to undeceive the afflicted Bride, by the Mouth of Don Leonardo; And that calling together the Friends, and Kindred of both parties, the Match should be made up. After which the Ambassadors took their leaves, and the Bridegroom remained well enough contented and pleased.

Now for a Poet, or one that hath but at any time spoken with a man, whose Genious lyes that way, to be able with lively Colours, to

paint out and express, the most sweet, most amorous, and most excellent conversation, that ever Lovers have had, since Venus and Adonis, to this present Age.

O Muse! if at any time, for spight, or for thy pleasure, thou leftest off to be a Virgin; and out of Curiosity didst permit thy self, to be carryed away with the allure∣ing thoughts of Love; if thou wert at such time, at any amorous parly; Now is a good opportuni∣ty to enjoy thy self; now thou mayst make ostentation of thy Skill, and glut thy self with thy pleasures. But some Poet will say, What has this Fellow to do to conjure the Muses, speaking in Prose? What need hath he in Prose to invoke the Muses assi∣stance? Ill-conditioned Poet, if my Prose were as flat as thy Rhymes, thou wouldst guess aright. But

I must tell thee, Poesy consists not in the gingling sound, but in the loftyness of the Spirit, and Elegan∣cy of the Words.

Venus was risen upon the Hori∣zon, and somewhat scornfully had turn'd her back upon her Gallant, the Sun, dispersing her Loves a∣mongst her Rayes, of which our Doctor had no need, and yet it seemed he drank them down. But this might be his Thirst after these bold attempts. He went then, or rather his affections carryed him to the Lodging of the Confus'd Dorotea, whom he found sad and much afflicted. Our Gallants Face and Body now carrying no disguise on them; he saluted her in betwixt a fawning and timorous manner, as a New-com'd Suiter: Dorotea could not at first call him to her remembrance; the stories of her late-past fears, had so distracted

her; but hearing his voice, she knew him by it, answering him, with a courteous and troubled gesture; and no sooner was she able to move her Lips, when sighing and lamenting she said; Art thou perchance, the Instru∣ment, that these Barbarians have destined for my death? Pray come near; come, for I perceive already that you are Joyful, to see the revenge, put into your hands, of my modesty and reservedness, which you will call disdain: But hear me, I beseech you, e're you execute the rigorous Stroak; and take notice before hand, that it is not to lessen my torments, but on∣ly to vindicate my reputation.

The Doctor was about to reply, saying, he came with a different purpose; But Dorotea, had in such sort her imagination possessed with sear, that even upon her Knees,

with intreaties, more than of a woman; she did beseech him, with great tenderness, that he would hear her a little.

Be not glad at this revenge (said she) which in effect is not so, in re∣gard it falls not upon an injury; You have courted me some few Months; you have a complaint against me, and a great one, that I have made no return to your courtship or desires: 'Tis an un∣just complaint, for you have either desired me with licentious, or with modest ends: As to the first attempt, no reward is due, it deserves no gratitude; for 'tis a manifest injury, with a mixture of Treason; since it conceals Villany, under the covert of flatteries: To the second all is due, but with modesty; And in this, I have corresponded with you, which is the forced Eccho of a modest Courtship.

Had it not been an undervalu∣ing of my Love, if I should have shown my self easie, then when I had raised in you an imagination of my being impossible—? Had I not injur'd you, to set a low esteem on what you your self had so much extoll'd? And if this be pure Love, does not its self alone reward him who entertains it? since 'tis so Noble that it illustrates all, and leaves to none any cause of complaint; by being of its own self a reward, as all other virtues are: For it was a Providence of Heaven, not to suffer its own pledges to be rent in peices, and those also the most divine ones, by leaving them to the inferiour Jurisdictions of Fortune; whom Fooleries and Errors do for the most part please by Sympathy; and whom good actions displease and vex, by her Antipathy to them.

Perfect Love is enjoyed, and rewarded, only with loving, which is no vulgar reward; for he that loves intire perfections (according to the Laws of pure Love) doth intimate, that he himself also hath such perfections; and illustrious fame is attained, by loving those who merit illustrious fame; all other advantages, are likewise acquired by admiring such as have these advantages; Now is this any reward? Does it give any? You will say, there can be no Love with∣out hopes; and yet you will not say so, if you understand Love, I mean legitimate Love; Love that merits this name; Not that adul∣terate, with a counterfeit name; which can boast no such preroga∣tive, as to be free from hope and fear, as this can; which neither hopes, nor fears, because it enters into the fruition of what it desires,

immediately, so soon as it is born. This gave it the Title of a Diety in the Golden Age, when hearts were more pure; Then they called it a god, because its miracles seem∣ed to be the Privledges of a god, and amongst others, this of making it self possessor of all it desired, onely by desiring it. A man did then only desire to Love; he loved and possessed; which had not been Love, if he had desired more; At that time, this fury was but a sport; this Martyrdom but a pastime; because courtesy gave Laws, to whom she was rightfully the Law-giver; imposed precepts, which obedience executed; and there was nothing so hard as not to obey.

Now revenge your self, if you find occasion; I have comply'd with what I owe, that, that might not seem despair, which is misfor∣tune;

with this I shall dye more contented, though more complain∣ing. Here her tongue ceased, and her eyes began to do what she had done, they turned into pearls like her self, no less winning, nor less pretious. Oh! how powerful are Eyes to perswade? How they can flatter, threaten, or complain!

The Gallant, at this remained without arms, and comforting Dorotea, assured her, that he came not to take away her life, but to give her his; she coming better to her self, although in great ad∣miration; and as there is no grief, which leaves idle the curiosity and desire of knowing in women, she asked him the cause of that No∣velty, who had brought him thi∣ther, or what business he had with her; which he satisfyed as well as he could, with fine words ac∣quainting her, that it had been

he who had stollen her away, who had kept her concealed, and who had so affrighted her: mixing now and then, her want of Love, to sweeten the Fault.

Thus he gave her a full account of all his Chimera's, and told her of nothing so largely, as the secret of his Riches, his being Master of four thousand Ducats a year, and the occasion of having kept them pri∣vate; this he repeated many times, as if every Crown had been a shield in his defence; expecting that his Mistress would have stretched out her arms, to have embraced him, that the Fortune which he brought with him, might not escape her; and coming nearer, prepared to receive her: The Lady with a re∣solute Courage, gave him so great a stroke upon the Breast, that he fell flat on the ground, with his head aking somewhat more than before.

Methinks (Friend Reader) I see thee amazed, crossing and blessing thy felf; which I should not at all be displeased at, if I did so for the joy I should have to know that thou art a Christian; for I promise thee, I have so ill an opinion of thee, that I doubt whether thou art one or no; and if thou dost examine thy Life, thou wilt find it all along but ill-intentioned.

Thou standest laughing at the Fable, and sayest, Oh what a new fashion'd Aretalogue is this? But yet I know not if thou wilt say so or not; for it may be thou canst not tell what an Aretalogue is. Here, wilt thou say, is a fine introducing of an accomplish'd Lady, and one that is a Maiden too; to whom, af∣ter he had feigned that her Ser∣vant hath been making boast of his Riches, and that he hath ac∣quainted her with his desire to mar∣ry

her; now he feigns to us, that she is disdainful, and breaks his pate with her Fist.

The case is; This is no Fable, speak civilly if thou knowest how; for I am not a man that am used to lie: This is a true History, and so true, that when I think on it, I am vex'd at the Soul with this Imperti∣nent Doctor, and will keep him all the while I can, down on the floor, in revenge of his mischievous Jests; and whilst he's complaining and be∣moaning himself, at this Coltish Trick; I'le have a fling or two at thee.

Behold thou, who (in thy life∣time) admirest nothing that thou hearest or seest, because thou think∣est that this would be to publish thy ignorance; I tell thee, that the Natures and Dispositions of men, which thou callest their Fancies, are very different in the world; and

the world hath not any thing so beautiful as this variety; every one acting and discoursing accord∣ing to his inclination.

Oh what a secret I have told thee! and what a Treasure I have given thee, if thou knowest but how to embowel it! I have point∣ed thee out a thing, that were I a forreign Writer, I would rather make thee run mad, than reveal it to thee; I would put it into Cy∣phers; I would procure help of the Abbot Trithemius his * 1.29 Stegono∣graphia; I would command thee to purge with Helebore, and after∣wards would leave thee as wise and unsatisfied, as thou wert two hours before I found thee. But I am bet∣ter natur'd, thou shalt know then that in all Moral Discourses, and in many of the Scicences likewise, the difference of Opinions, has risen from the difference of the in∣clinations of Writers.

The Law is a faculty, which errs most of all, in the disconformity of Opinions; because it hath more of Morality than any other. Our understanding, if it were free from this embarrassement of Flesh and Bloud, without doubt would al∣waies hit exactly upon the truth; for it naturally hath Idea's, Noti∣ons, or Forms of it, which serve it instead of Originals; insomuch that seeing it painted out in any Discourse, by comparing it, with its draughts, it knows whether it be that or no; but what hinders or molests it, is the affection proceed∣ing from the Intemperance of this Vessel, wherein it is either preser∣ved or spoiled.

I shall do thee a great kindness, to tell thee, that the intemperance of affections, does not arise only from the disproportion and discord of heat and moisture, (as the Peri∣patetiques

say) but from the stars; which, according to their Motion, Site, Aspect, and Nearness that they have; do influence on us Af∣fections, Vices, and Natural Vir∣tues; conformable and like to their Motions, Qualities and Na∣tures.

The Understanding then, guided by the Affections, discourseth al∣waies like to the Affections, after the manner of a flattering Friend, (which thou mayest call discreet) who talking to thee, concerning that which gives thee most plea∣sure, applauds and admires it, be it never so ill contrived and prepo∣sterous. Thou wilt better under∣stand me by Examples.

A man is born an Epicure, al∣together a friend of his delight, of good Liquor, and a plentiful Ta∣ble; he is of a pleasant conversati∣on, peaceful, quiet, alwaies mind∣ful

of his own tranquility; and so careful in this, that he's never trou∣bled at the death of his Kindred, the mis-fortune of his Neighbour, nor the poverty of his Friend: The ambition of Glory, never disquiets him; he's drawn out by force a∣mongst Tribunals, and to publick Solemnities; and unconcerned at the Government of the Common-wealth; In fine, the man is wholly for the delight of his Body, feed∣ing, and procuring Mirth, and ever far from any other care. Put a Pen into his hand, counsel him that in regard he hath so good an un∣derstanding, is so pleasant, and so ingenious; he write something that may serve for a light to others, not so happy; he's perswaded to write, and treat of the chiefest goods, and being only inclined to his delight, that Affection which this inclination imprinted in him, treats him as its

Scholar, or its Servant; and causes, that his understanding flatters him, and gains a full Empire, even in the most sacred place: In the end, he writes, that the chiefest good, is to regale, and please ones self; and from thence he runs into a thousand other Errors, as one that suffers himself to be led by a Blind Man.

Chrisipus is born altogether wed∣ded to his rest; wholly given up to Idleness; he writes of Vices and Virtues, and puts down Mercy for a Vice; commanding expresly, that no wise man harbour it in his brest, because it pays badly for its Lodg∣ing, and disquiets too much.

Up starts a Covetous and Severe Law-maker, the very Disgrace of Nature it self; he finds natural Reason crying out to him, that to serve is against his Laws; that men were born to command, unless they

be fools; who because they know not how to command, were born to obey; and being guided by his harsh and covetous nature, finds out Arguments, that it may be law∣ful, for some men to subject others, and to be served by others; to kill, and to destroy them; and with∣out calling to mind so many reasons, as stand laying before him the con∣trary; being become a slave to his Affections, maintains that there ought to be slaves.

Yet there will one day appear a man so pure from all Clouds, and Darknesses of the understanding; as to declare, That the greatest good of Mortals, is Virtue; because it is a certain part of God: That the tranquility of the mind, consists not, in the pampering and delights of the Body: That Mercy is a Vertue: That Slavery and Servi∣tude, Discord and Destruction;

are unjust, unless it be where there is no other remedy, and for a∣voiding of greater evils: That Reasons of State, for the most part have somewhat in them contrary to the Law of God, whereby they are discovered not to be Rea∣sons.

You need no clearer demonstra∣tion, that Opinions most common∣ly are governed by the Affections; than the finding it established by Law, that he incurs the penalty of Death who shall steal his Neigh∣bours Goods of Fortune: and of banishment, he that shall wound another: And in former times, In the ancient Laws, a Buffet, or Blow on the face, was punished (in Spain) with the value of little more or less than * 1.30 eight Royals. That a Buffet, the highest of Injuries, where it seems the works of God are defaced, by the hand of the

the Agressor; when by Sacriledge, the Soul is prophaned, which ap∣pears with the greatest Glory in the Countenance; and that to be cha∣stised with so slight a penalty! The Buffet, I say, which stains the ho∣nour and reputation for ever, to be souldred up with Money; and Money punished with the Gallows, or an Axe! Money stollen is not con∣tented with less revenge than Ho∣nour and Blood: and yet Honour & Blood, are contented with Money, and so little as can scarcely be cal∣led Money, who doubts that the one injury was not greater than the other; by how much the good of the Body and Soul is greater than that of Fortune? Thus have our Law-makers had such ill and vile Affections, as that they have judg∣ed quite contrary to Reason; and yet thought themselves so wise, that they put this for a Law, and left it recorded for Justice.

Which being considered, never marvel at this Novelty of Dorotea, since it contains a Mystery, and perchance Wisdom; for it is not of Necessity, that that only should be infallible and without all scru∣ple, which the Vulgar admits of; Believe me, for the most part it errs: and if all the Vulgarities, which this evil Beast hath contri∣ved, were laid open; thou wouldst see how many ignorances they con∣tain, and how ignorant thou art in following them. Now if thou think∣est that this is Sophistry, or force of Arguments; there's a good reme∣dy: Hear this Maiden, in whom Reason speaks without Artifice, and thou wilt remain well satisfied.

CHAP. VII. The Doctor carries on the Discourse, and the History is continued; wherein the Fool is made wise.

IF Wills could be sold (said the Singular Damosel) as other Goods are; mine would run the hazzard, of being triumph∣ed over by your Friends; But the Laws will not suffer that things sa∣cred, should be exposed to sale; because he that sells, contemnes, and slights, as declaring that he hath no need of what he sells; or at least, that he esteems more the price, than the Jewel. The Will

is sacred, therefore expect no sale of it; It may sometimes suffer it self to be alienated, I confess, but not into prophane hands; only in∣to those of anothers Will, against which no priviledges avail, by rea∣son of the equality.

You, Sir, have no Will, nor Love, which can stand you in stead, to∣wards the promoting what you pretend to, I see it in your affe∣ctions; for, for you to endanger the loss of my reputation, to bring me to the very point of Death, and to threaten violence; savours more of abhorrency than of Love. You know this affection but ill, if you call it blind, and think to advan∣tage your self, by the Pictures which represent it to you, with a Scarfe before its eyes, amongst your Comrades; since that is no Emblem of Blindness, but an evi∣dence of its having the very pro∣perty

of a Lynx: In regard it acts what it will, in despight of its Scarf; Hoodwinked (as they say) it pro∣cures its ends; This is then the Glory, and Excellency of the Eyes, to work blindfolded.

I will never yield up my self to that man, who assists himself with power and deceit, to conquer good liking and Loyalty: Neither would I have you to think, but that I esteem more of my self, na∣ked of these Goods of which you boast, than of you cloathed with them; for if at any time, they are to be esteemed, it is only when they serve to celebrate some pretty Stra∣tagem; not when they attempt to call out for Empire, and to require subjection. I shall live happily with him who shall be my Equal; you cannot be so, because you want as much to equal me, as you ex∣ceed me in Riches; since therefore

for them you are such an impudent Clown, pine away, and die with∣out hopes.

She had said more, the sense of seeing her self thus affronted, and mocked, had so much transported her; had not the Doctor interrupt∣ed her. If you have thought (said he) that there can be a durable Love without correspondence, you have been deceived. Never fear, Madam, never fear, you shall be be∣loved with excess, when you can abhor with excess: I confess my obstinate persisting herein, hath done me but an ill Office, and branded me for a Fool, for desiring one who cared not for me; but this hath not been without mi∣stakes. Whilst I had hopes, I en∣gaged my self in all occasions, which might assist me towards the obtaining what I hoped for; but now, that instead of Flowers, I ga∣ther

Thistles: Now, I say, that I discover your deceitful humour, and that your Coldness is not Mo∣desty, but meer Hatred; Never be∣lieve, that I shall be so Marble-like, as not to change; and be sensible that from henceforward it is Dissi∣mulation, what hitherto has been Love.

If some Suitor should at any time trouble you with his Courtship, af∣ter he is repulsed, or discarded; do not believe that this is Love; for it is but a persisting to trouble you: Neither accuse him of being facil and changeable, if he doth not Court you still; for this is Courtship and not Coldness; He obliges you, in not seeing you, if he thinks, he troubles you, when he sees you. You may be certain, that in all this, you have not run any hazzard, in your reputation; for herein (as you say) my Love

hath been a Linx, since it hath look∣ed so carefully after it. Return home then to your own house, and suppose that you are Mistress of this which you leave, without more obligation of pay, than your ha∣ving entred into it, and the know∣ing you have power to command it.

He had no sooner ended this; when calling a couple of Servants, and whispering privately to Don Felix, who came with them; he took leave of her, not without ad∣miration of those who beheld it.

It being now night, they carri∣ed her, or rather she walked home, waited on by Don Felix, and other Servants; who as they were instru∣cted by the Crafty Gallant, left her in the Porch of her House; where we'l also leave her, going in, and crying for joy, with her Father, Mother, and Kindred, to their

great satisfaction; It not being my intent to trouble my self, with painting out tears, nor whinings; since greater matters call me ano∣ther way.

Fame divulged this Heroick A∣ction, of the Doctor's, amongst his Friends; who put a high esteem on him for it; and there was none, who did not Graduate him for an Ingenious and Wise man; The Chronicler also being his Friend, was a help in the augmentation of his Applauses; so was Don Felix, for he at no time related it, that he did not extol him to admiration: He would stay sometimes to tell the conceit, and then annex a hundred other pleasant ones to accompany it. Fortune surely bears a share, in things that are spoken well, and in actions that are nobly perform∣ed; and distributes good or evil Fame, amongst us, as she doth her

other goods. The Doctor's increas∣ed like Froth; nor was there any discourse of Mirth, in which (with∣out naming the person) he was not talked of. At the report of this Story, a certain Lady would pre∣tend, she could not endure to hear of it; This worthy Lady, Madam Fantastical, would not forsooth, al∣low by any means, but that Suitors should remain constant to Eternity; notwithstanding all the scorns and frowns which often distract some, and almost destroy others of them: Her fancy truly carries no Reason with it, if she likes not to see a love made, or marr'd in so short space; Let her therefore (I advise) im∣prove her opportunity, or she may stay till Crabs grow at her heels, e're she get a Servant to fulfil her Whimsie.

All the Doctor's Friends were one night met together, at his house

to make merry, and to have a Game at the Play called * 1.31 El Hombre, or the Man; Some played, others looked on, and the Doctor happen∣ed to be El Hombre. One, amongst the rest, who was a pretender to Wit, and delighted more to quib∣ble on the talk, than mind the play; being unwilling to lose the oppor∣tunity of shewing his rare qualifi∣cations, said; It is with reason, Sir, for you (as truly as any in the world) may say you are a man, since the ingenuity, which you of late days have shewn, is much of a man, and of a very discreet man: They took occasion then every one of them, to commend him, running on in that Subject a good while, which at last was closed up; all concluding that this had been the most discreet action, they had ever heard or seen. The Doctor (mo∣destly & with a grave look) check∣ed

them; and afterwards told them, 'Tis well, said he, you jeer me with this, for discretion; I be∣ing so cry'd up a Fool: suppose it rather a thing inconsiderately done; or else attribute it to my Love's leaving me with such ease; for this is also the property of Fools. Here they were all in a Hubbub, and with a loud noise, not without some Oaths, made him believe he was as wise a man, as was in all the Walks of San Felipe. One of them that was a pleasant witty Fellow, said, This is no ill scruple, which Mr. Doctor has objected; he may well be jealous of his Reputation, and I find no other remedy for it, than to Graduate him a wise man, since we have amongst us Doctors of Discretion, here are Poets, here are Criticks, here are Flatterers, and here are Wits; there's nothing want∣ing.

I accept the favour, said the Do∣ctor (with a cheerful countenance) with all my heart, that we may leave off this Play; for 'tis a terri∣ble thing for any body to be El Hombre, 'tis enough to make one tremble with fear, and in the upshot it will cost him some Moneys.

This is a very old complaint, said another, and we can do no less than give you your degree; yet do not suppose it done on a sudden, without forecast; for I have brought in writing the Laws which you must keep to be accounted wise. Then it seems, said the Doctor, you came not to make tryal whether I am a wise man or no, but to dub me one, as they dub a Knight: Truly this is the most certain and easie way; for I assure you, there are few in the world, who merit the degree of a wise man; but just as at the dubbing of some Knight; what fa∣mous

Actions he hath done, are not looked after; 'tis sufficient if he be able to perform any, and that conjectured too by his Auncestry; and are contented for the present, with instructing him, what he is to do, to comply with the Order of Knighthood; nevertheless this is a great honour, and worthy of much estimation: So shall I likewise re∣main highly honoured with your dubbing me a wise man; since at least you assure me that I may be one; in regard you see some glim∣mering in me.

Let this serve for an Oration, said one of the briskest, and taking a Book called Lope de Vega's Playes, he made him kneel down upon his knees, giving him, with it, three blows on the Forehead, said, Doctor Ceñudo, wilt thou be a Wise man? To which he answered, I will. Then added the other, God

make thee one; for I cannot.

All commended the Ceremony, and the President gave command that every man should sit down in his order, to hear the Constitutions of Discretion.

Here happened a great Dispute betwixt the Poets, and the Pretend∣ers to Wit; which should have the chiefest place: The Batchellors of the Silver Order, Devoto's of the Nuns and Ladies, considering upon it, said, that to them it was rather due, as being the very Map of Discretion: But the President or Chair-man determined, that they should give the chiefest place to the Poets, because though they knew not. Discretion, at least they taught it. In the end, being all seat∣ed, the Constitutions were read al∣most to this effect.

LAWS and CON∣STITUTIONS of DISCRETION.

VVE Discretion, Queen and Mistress of all the Universe; To you the Wise men of the first Classe, Novices of the strict order of Knowledge, Understanding and Words: Know that Relation hath been made to Us, of the Excesses & Absurdities which such of you as are Lovers of pleasant Conversa∣tion, do commit, and have com∣mitted, by inventing new ways of Speaking and Doing; from whence hath resulted, and doth

result great damage to all Hu∣mane Wit and Scholarship: Wherefore for redress of your Disorders; We do establish and ordain the following Laws; which you shall know, and keep, under pain of our Displeasure.

IN the first place, Because Expe∣rience hath shewn us, that the having a bad Tongue, being a busie Censurer of other mens Acti∣ons, is not Wit, but ill Intention; And that notwithstanding the faults of men are many, and grievous; the the ill Tongue does but only relate them We ordain, that such call not them∣selves, nor may be called Discreet, but meer Fools for ever: And that with∣out suspition of Malice, any one may impute as many more faults on such Ill-Tongues or Backbiters, as he or they did relate with an ill intention: For the delight of this perverse peo∣ple

is founded in the procuring comfort to themselves, in respect of their own faults, by relating other mens; and for certain they would not seek for comfort, unless they were comfortless.

Item, That every man of Civil Language may doubly be called both Wise and Elegant.

Item, That no man who is about to be marryed, or is in Love, may be wise, during the time that his amo∣rous Fits shall continue, on pain of be∣ing accounted a Clown, a Coxcomb, and a Flatterer.

That no wise man keep in his House the Academy of Complements, nor any Formulary of Letters; neither write after the common and ordinary stile of all men: because we shall think that he knows no better.

And because we are informed, that in the Visits of Courtesie, or Comple∣ment, there are committed many no∣table and gross absurdities in unneces∣sary Questions; We command, that it shall not be lawful, to ask any handsom Woman, or any that thinks her self so, If she be in health: because to doubt it, is as much as to say, she is unhandsom.

That, there being two or more Vi∣sitants, come in at several times; he be obliged to go away first, who came in first; on pain of three years being esteemed a Clown; or else according as Our pleasure shall think fit.

That to such Visits of Courtship, no man may go by night in a * 2.1 coloured Cloak, in a Band, nor with a Buck∣ler: on pain of being accounted a dull

Fellow, and one who can invent no better Discourse, than of his own Va∣lour, and Atchievements.

That no one presume to boast, that he is of a Melancholy Constitution; thinking thereby to make us believe, he is very wise; unless he be hollow∣ey'd, Beetle-brow'd, Lean-jaw'd, and Thin bearded; or shall have but little money in his Purse: for such have Li∣cence, not only to be Melancholy, but also to boast of it.

That none shew courtesie to one that sneezes, since he deserves it not; for as much as we are informed, by grave Physitians, that sneezing is an expulsion of humid excrements; and every expulsion of Excrements is un∣mannerly.

That no discreet man shall dare to know how to make handsom Legs,

dance, sing, nor play upon any Musical Instrument; neither to snuff a Candle, cut a Melon, nor carve a Fowl: under the penalty of being suspended from his Office.

That they speak not with Thrum ends of Poetry, nor Raptures of Rhetorique; but Christian-like, as their Consciences shall dictate, and as their Forefathers (who are dead and gone) did teach them.

That they keep no set hours for Din∣ner, Supper, going to bed, nor rising; but that the appetite, and Will, to one and the other, appoint the hour.

That he believe nothing that shall be told him, unless it be a Mystery of Faith; but we give leave that for Courtesie, he may make them think he believes all they tell him.

That he change his Cloaths at any time, according as he shall see the sea∣son hot, or cold, without considering whether it be Winter, or Summer: because that day is really Summer, which is hot; and that Winter, which is cold.

Item, We command to blot out of the wise mens Vocabulary, all Outlan∣dish Words, as Latin, Italian, Portu∣gueze, Gallegan, and Moorish: forasmuch as the Spanish Language of it self is Copious, Neat, Sweet, and the most Polite of all other Lan∣guages.

That they wear no Jewels of Dia∣monds, nor Emeralds; when they can wear them of Glass and Pebles; in regard they are cheaper, and shine all alike.

We charge the Consciences of For∣mal

Courtiers, that they cool not their Wine at Christmass; for some there are, who, when their Bottles are so frozen, that 'tis a wonder to see; the Wine being as cold as an Isicle, will yet cool it more.

That no wise man dare to have Great Eyes, a Little Forehead, Flaxen Hair, nor a Round Face; on pain that no one shall know him.

That if, being in visit with some persons of Quality, there should be brought to him a Letter, and he o∣pen, and read it immediately; We do absolve him of the unmannerliness at the very instant; because he may not stand in pain, and doubtful.

That no discreet man ask any per∣sons what they have eaten; nor tell them what he hath eaten; because these Discourses are only fit for Glut∣tons.

That they talk not to one another concerning new Fashions of Cloaths, and Dresses; since this is reserved for young Ladies.

That he mind not old superstitious Fables, Dreams, nor Southsayings; on pain of Our Curse: And We de∣clare for Publick Fools, any that com∣mit such a Crime.

That none believe that there is vir∣tue in Stones, unless they be Dia∣monds, Rubies, or Emeralds, and other Precious Stones, which are sold to Jewellers; or those which being thrown, brain an Enemy: Nor in Herbs, but such as the Apothecaries sell, since they have the virtue to make them rich: Nor in Words, except they be promises, which shall have virtue to give dead Dogs.

Let them not be Boasters of their

Blood or Linage, by any means; nor meddle in reckoning up their Pedi∣grees, or bragging of their Gentili∣ty; on pain of being accounted Up∣starts, Braggadocio's, and of ill intention.

And because some hold it for an E∣legancy, and Ornament of Speech, now and then to throw out an Oath; We declare them for Fools, founded in Blasphemy; and command that they enter not into any Civil Soci∣ety.

That none speak ill of Women, al∣though they deserve it; considering it is but ill Merchandise, and is not fold off of hand, except it be prais∣ed.

That no one presume to have a Mo∣ther-in-Law, though it should cost him the not being married in all his life;

for in our Council, shall be taught him a Trick, how he may live without one and the other.

That he seek not preferment to Offices, without Favour; nor Court a Lady without Money.

That nobody know from himself, he is wise; but that he know it of all.

The new made wise man promi∣sed obedience to the Laws, and be∣gan to appear one, amongst his Friends that night; giving them a splendid Supper, where the sea∣soning of the Jests, was no less pleasing, than that of the Dishes; of which I do not make any larger Relation, for fear of provoking thy appetite to them: 'Tis enough for thee to know, that the Supper did

sufficiently satisfie a Legion of Poets; which is as much Glory, as was e∣ver related of any Supper. So they made an end of that merry Bout; and so ceased the Doctor Ceñudo to be a Fool; and began the Office of a wise man: Mind me what I say; for Courtship and Discretion are not Graces, but Offices, and per∣chance of those who vend them. When thou shalt hear say that Mr. Such-a-one courteth Madam Such-a-one; do not for that think he is altogether a Courter of Ladies; for in this manner you are wont to ask, What man is this? what person is that? so as it is only to be under∣stood, he has at this time, that oc∣cupation or Office of a Courtier. You may suppose the same from henceforward of wise men, and let it be on my account. Would you be a wise man amongst a hundred wise men? Give them a good Sup∣per,

and you shall see, that although you were an errand Pack-horse, they will commend you, seeing you loaded with Turkies and Par∣tridges.

CHAP. VIII. The Doctor Ceñudo is appre∣hended at the Request of his Enemies.

WAs there ever yet seen a Flash of Lightning, so boasting of its power, that intending to kill, it would endeavour to destroy with∣out noise? At the Pistols, Muskets, and other such like Instruments of death, we need not wonder; for perchance it was the defect of the Artificer, which could not make them silent, as the valiant are: But what I am confident of, is, that Nature contriv'd to temper the ma∣lice

of the Lightning, with the scandalous ratling of the Thunder, as being sorry for its formation, and thereby advising the world, that they should get themselves under shelter. Oh! how penetrating would Love be, if the noise of it should not cure us: Assuredly Mistress Finical, if you brag of your Beauty, and the Rayes of your Eyes, that they are able to kill with Love; yet the noise (I must tell you) will help us to escape you; or at least, will bring such a blemish on your Reputation, as we shall fully be revenged, and so cry quits with you; for what would become of us, if it should be otherwise? How freely would you make your shot? if, as you know the Bullets kill us; you knew not likewise that the Crack and Smoke soyls you.

Dorotea (with blushing Cheeks) told the whole story to her Father

and Mother; and had no great trouble to make them believe her; for as being a part of their Soul, they understood her Manners, and from thence were assured that there was no forcing her Will: But she satisfied not the World so easily; who knew the Nights she had been lamented for at her own house, and made much of at another's. In fine, the Voice is Wind, it is blown a∣bout in the Wind, a Mass is made thereof, and is given to all, and dis∣pers'd into every part; for what does not the Air penetrate? and the voice carries no greater body than the Air.

The Licentiate Campuzáno our Andaluzian Gallant heard it, and who so well able as he? who was all turn'd to ears, since he had been made such an Ass of. Oh! what do Fools lose, by being confident! for in effect they lose more than they

have: Confidence had made our Arrogant Andaluzer conjecture all that beauty of Dorotea's to be his own; and he was so possessed with this Fancy, that the day in which he had notice the Lady was stollen away, he undertook her search, on his own account; and let himself think, she had been stollen from him. Confident Fool, was it not better to imagine she was not thine? as really she was not, whereby in case of her loss, any injury done her, or any contempt put upon her; thou wouldst not have had so great share in her Sufferings, nor wouldst thou have thought they had taken her, as it were out of thy Bed from thee; And now that I am talking of Licentiates, I speak to all. Gentlemen, you who sue for Offices or Preferments, do not sue for them as Campuzano did to Do∣rotea, that you grieve not, when you

find your selves mocked; but pro∣vide your selves beforehand with patience, by knowing that they are not yet yours; and if they be given to others, they are not taken from you.

He was now become a Lion, as to Courage; and perceiving that he wanted Paws to prey withal, he contented himself with roaring, though sore against his will; but in that manner he accosts the Justice; affirming, That the Doctor Ceñudo was a Conjurer; that he kept a Familiar; and that he daily committed a thou∣sand violences, by virtue of Witch∣crafts; That he ravished Maids; made himself Master of other mens wealth; and other Miracles which his spight dictated. To all which a Teniente gave him credit, and went out by night, to apprehend the Do∣ctor, carrying a great Guard of Alguazils, and other Officers with

him, as also the Licentiate himself for a Guide.

These beset the Doctor's House on all sides, called at the door, and giving (by Campuzano's advice) the name of Don Felix, to facilitate their entrance, it was opened to them; and leaving order for some to stay there below, the Teniente went up, and came to the Doctor's Bedside, where he found him fast asleep, and fearing that if he should awake, he might assist himself with some Spirit, he commanded four Serjeants or Bailiffs to shackle him quickly, who presently obey'd, and would have done as much if it had been to four Devils.

At the noise of this, the miserable Doctor awaked, and seeing him∣self seized and bound on that man∣ner, and all his Chamber full of Hal∣berds, being amazed and affright∣ed, he began to recommend him∣self

to God and the Saints, with great earnestness; at which the Teniente was angry and affraid, sup∣posing he had been muttering his Charms, and already began to fan∣cy himself in the Hobgoblins Clut∣ches; wherefore putting a Gagg into his Mouth, he sent him away to prison, with a Squadron of lusty Fellows to guard him; charging them to secure him in the safest Dungeon; which they did: And the Teniente stayed with a * 2.2 Scriva∣no and other Officers, to find out the Charms, Vows, and Instruments of his Witchcrafts.

To which end he sent several of his Attendants over all the House, whilst he still continued with the Licentiate, and the rest of his Train above; who casting their Eyes on a Cabinet curiously wrought, which stood at the D^rs Beds-head, broke it open, suspecting they might find

some Charms in it; the Teniente examined the Drawers, and dis∣coursing with Campuzano, asked him if he knew what kind of things Conjurations were; the Licenti∣ate told him, they were certain Prayers or Invocations in Rhime; and that in a Commission, which he had once against a Company of Witches, he had attained to much knowledge concerning them; and if it had not been the Teniente, he would perchance have made him believe he himself had been a Wi∣zard.

They were in this talk, when in a Drawer, they espied certain Pa∣pers, of which Campuzano reading some scraps, cried out, These are Rhimes; As I live, we have found out now the Conjurations: The Teniente who knew as much of Con∣jurations, as of Rhimes; and had a great desire the Rhimes might

prove to be Conjurations, that he might make a Holiday, and day of sport for the rude Rabble in the great Market-place; after he had often crossed himself, and said some Devout Prayers, and renounced the implicite Compact, which they might possibly contain in them; and declared fully and plainly that it was not his intent to do ill to any one, by reading those Papers; neither to raise up any Spirit to converse with; nor make the De∣vil take any visible shape: He be∣gan to read the first Conjuration, according to his Mistake, which he found said on this manner;

Look down (thou faithless Mother of Love) and see The humble Suppliant of thy Majestie: And though I with no golden Shrines appear, At least I come surcharg'd with grief, with fear.

Take back these flowers, scarce wak'd by'th' morning Sun, This hope cut off, so soon as 'twas be∣gun; Since being at highest pitch of bliss attain'd, I find thy promise broke, thy Colours stain'd.

Henceforth thy barren Favours thou maist bring, And them distribute to some happier Spring; For whilst they press so hastily on me, My fall's more violent than it would be.

And if the Crueltie which thou dost send Have not had power enough my life to end; It is because the fright hath given me Balm, And taught me how to lead a life more calm.

Does your Worship observe, said Campuzano, the Sacrifice which this Villain makes to Venus? Mind here, the Obligation which he pre∣sents her with in this Conjuration. The Teniente was amazed, and ha∣ving but little skill in Conjurations, the simplicity and ignorance of the Licentiate Passed with him for cur∣rant; so he read on further.

An Allegory of the Mad-man which Horace paint∣eth out.

He, who, by framing in's distracted mind Pleasing Idea's, full content could find; And though's Chymera's did succeed in vain, Sweet Adulation made all well a∣gain:

Illustrated by light, and brought to day, He chides his Fortune for her trayte∣rous play, That from a place of Glory so sublime, Had tempted him to a less happy Clime.

Lay, CINTHIA, thy deceitful pen∣cils by, Which feign so easie this my misery; They'lsweetly draw what's cruel, fierce, and wild, And make that rude, which gentle is and mild.

Let no false Gloss over my griefs be spread. But faithfully let them be coloured; For Painting steals, when it advan∣tage spies, Disguise from Truth, only to blind our eyes.

Here the ill intention of the Read∣er was more clouded, and he said; For these occasions it is good to have studied Humane Learning; who would have hit upon it besides my self? Take notice (Señor Teni∣ente) of this Conjuration which he makes to the Moon. To the Moon? replyed the Teniente, I see no such thing; neither is there a word here whereby it may be conjectured.

The Word Cynthia, replied Cam∣puzano, does not your Worship consider that it is an Invocation of the Moon or Diana, whom the Gen∣tiles adored by the Name of Cyn∣thia, for having been born in the Mountain Cynthus? With this re∣spect therefore he invokes her, as the ancient Magicians did, that she should come down to moisten and give virtue to the Herbs, of which they are to compound their Magi∣cal poisons.

The Teniente believed him, and I must tell you, that I am half afraid lest the Reader should also believe it: But not to speak more of the Herbs:

You are to know (friendly Read∣er) that all Heresies of the world have had the same beginnings, as these Madnesses of Campuzano. Here you see him with a good reputati∣on, in Madrid, and such a one, that depending on it, he sues for prefer∣ment; but becoming jealous, would revenge himself; and this Blind∣ness makes him believe, that a Copy of Love-verses are Magical Charms: Who would think this of a man so practis'd in Learning? Did you not hear him discourse with the Doctor Ceñudo, at the visit of the Machines? Did you not just now observe him shew his Schoolship with the Teni∣ente? Then what can we think should be the reason of this blind∣ness,

but that his jealous passion carries him on hood-wink'd.

Discretion, Learning, and Eru∣dition, are with men, like Clothes, handsom dressing, and Gallantry: Put me a rich Sute of Clothes on a Crook back'd man, or on a tall Lubber, whose Soul forgets it feet, by reason of the great distance from them; let him walk in the street, and it shall not seem that he goes, but that he is carried: Dress him up, without sparing Fashion, Cu∣riosity or Expence, and you will see how ill he sets them forth; and, that as though the Clothes should carry him, and not he the Clothes, he marches disorderly, indecently, slovenly, and clownishly; discre∣diting the Nobleness, and Gallantry of the Silks with the baseness and unhandsomness of the Motion. On the contrary,

Give me in an ill Equipage, a

Youth' all Soul, all Air, and more than Air; only with a Baies Sute, and that ragged too; that he may set forth his condition; turn him into the street, let him display him∣self, put his Cloak in order, and so dispose himself like a Ship under Sail, playing with the Wind, and I am confident you will be so much delighted with him, that you shall never mind his thred-bare Clothes: so are the Wits of the world.

Many men there are, that make themselves sine, that learn, that watch, that study all their life, with∣out suffering an hour to pass idly; but have so little of air and wit, that they soil and darken all; and 'tis the same thing, for Learning to be in them, as in a Book; we must search them, and turn over their Leaves to pump out any thing from them; and when it comes, pray God it be to be understood.

There are others with very little Scholarship like your thred-bare Gallants, but so ingenious, witty, pleasant, and eloquent, that with something which they have learnt at a Play, or heard commended in a Discourse, or observed in some small Book, they set themselves forth, become so airy and resplen∣dent, that they draw all admirati∣on after him.

Señor Campuzano (to come to our Story) had a Wit so ill-contri∣ved, that after he had done, what he could, to procure the furnishing himself with Gallantry, he was but a Pack-horse loaded with it, not a Gallant.

Of these the world is full, and such is the Ignorant Vulgar, that on∣ly for hearing say, They have a great many Books; They take a world of

pains; They have their Degrees, and other Titles, which give no wit, by all means they esteem them for wise prudent and discreet.

I should have been glad, Señor Licenciado Campuzano, that you had not been born in the pride of Andaluzia; to let you see your Er∣rour, and tell you that those Pa∣pers which you stand poring on are not Conjurations, but handsom Verses. They would have passed on further transported with their Devilish sweetness, if at that instant there had not come up some of the Ministers of Wrath, who had been searching the House, more to find out, if there was any thing for them to prey upon, than to make any dis∣covery of the Accusation: These brought in a great number of Clothes for Devils, Foxes Tails, Wolves Heads, Sculls, and other

such Trumpery, and pieces of Ma∣chines; for to tell you plainly, our Doctor was not a Conjurer, but a man of a pleasant humor, that with ingenious Artifice, delighted to re∣venge himself of the troublesome∣ness of Ignorant People.

To make short, the third day after, like one that had been under water, he appeared again at the top, remaining free from that ac∣cusation, by the good diligence of Don Felix, his faithful Friend, who giving him an embrace, presented him with the welcom tidings of his liberty. He wondred to hear it, not that his Innocence did not se∣cure him, but because the Negoti∣ation seemed very short.

Don Felix satisfied all his doubts, not without some laughter, relating him all the Passages of the Process,

and particularly the last means by which he had overcome all; which was, his having alledged and proved against the whole Charge of his Accusation, that he was AN IG∣NORANT, a FOOL, an I∣DEOT, and that as such, he had spent his Life, his Time, and E∣state in Books, Pictures, and De∣vils Cloaths, after a particular and pleasant humour, separating him∣self from the common use and life of man; That this being proved by a number of Witnesses, and the Teniente satisfied, of the Artifice of the Machines, and that how the Pa∣pers which he had found in his Ca∣binet were not Conjurations, nor Invocations, but Ballads, and Son∣nets, and also that it was he him∣self who had written them; with which his Foolishness was more confirmed, therefore he absolved him from the Accusation, and con∣demned

Campuzano in a great pe∣nalty for his Scandal.

I durst have sworn, said the Do∣ctor, that such good fortune would befal me by being a Fool. He then cast back his eyes on his forepast life, calling to mind that all his Prosperities and good Successes had come to him by his Follies, and firmly resolved to commit many, that he might not cease being hap∣py.

With this he took his leave of his Friends, who had entertained him in the Prison, and with the joy of seeing himself free, he came to my Lodging to visit me, and to en∣joy his Liberty, He then declared to me the Secret, which was the occasion of his Felicities, and the purpose which he had of being a Fool all his life; for seeing himself in that straight, he had made a vow to Folly, that if he escaped that mis∣fortune,

he would become a Fool, and profess to be so all the remain∣der of his Life. He goes fulfilling his Vow, and I follow his steps.

In a short time, Friendly Reader, thou shalt have the Second Part of of his Fooleries, if thou wilt pro∣mise me not to be tired with them. Take a good Courage, and hearken to his Follies; for it may be, they have virtue to make happy him that hears them, as well as him that does them.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  One that for merit, or in re∣ward of some great service, sues at Court for Honour or Prefer∣ment
• * 1.2

  The Em∣perour Ti∣tus.
• * 1.3

  The com∣mon Salu∣tation of the Spani ards.
• * 1.4

  Madrid is called the Court of Spain.
• * 1.5

  Or to wish you a merry Christmas.
• * 1.6

  The Coun∣trey where the best I∣ron is made.
• * 1.7

  Mithrida∣tes King of Pontus.
• * 1.8

  A place in Madrid where ma∣ny resort to hear news.
• * 1.9

  Or bat∣taile dance in Spain, wherein they skir∣mish dance∣ing with Lances, daggers &c. in their hands.
• * 1.10

  Or a Judg.
• * 1.11

  One that sued for an Honour in the Court.
• * 1.12

  It was a custome in Spain for∣merly when a Page brought a∣ny Note or Letter to a Nobleman, to deliver it kneeling.
• * 1.13

  A King∣dom in Spain.
• * 1.14

  A plen∣sant walk on one side of Madrid whither the Gallants resort every evening in summer time, to take the air. It is a∣dorued with many curious fountains, and rows of high trees, and is watered at 3 or 4 a clock in the afternoons by Porters at the charge of the Town.
• * 1.15

  A kind of wood∣den pat∣tens, or clogs which the women use to wear.
• * 1.16

  They are for the most part anti∣ent wid∣dows though sometimes wives, and wear a particular habit. Of these the Spanish Ladies keep, some two, some four, or six, accor∣ding to their qua∣lities.
• * 1.17

  The Spa∣nish Bawd Englished, and many times bound up with Gus∣man.
• * 1.18

  All those Earls who are also Knights do wear the particular habit of their order.
• * 1.19

  The chief University of Spain.
• * 1.20

  The two principal Universi∣ties of Spain.
• * 1.21

  The Spa∣nish Physi∣cians, when they go to see their Pati∣ens, do al∣waies ride on Mules.
• * 1.22

  An Officer deputed by the King, over most of the chief Cities in Spain, with Power and Au∣thority little differing from a Lord Mayors. These always continue three years, and for the most part are Lawyers.
• * 1.23

  Or Jud∣ges.
• * 1.24

  Or Depu∣ties.
• * 1.25

  About 6 pence Eng∣lish.
• * 1.26

  Those Spaniards who are short sigh∣ted do wear their Spectacles tyed on, all day long, whereso∣ever they go.
• * 1.27

  The true name of this Lady was Flo∣rinda, she was the Daughter of the Earl Don Julian who to revenge himself on the King for deflowering this his Daughter, betrayed Spain to the Moors, by whom she was cal∣led Cava, which in Arabick signifies a Whore.
• * 1.28

  The River which pas∣seth by Madrid.
• * 1.29

  Or the Art of se∣cret Wri∣ting, Print∣ed at Darm stad, 1621.
• * 1.30

  About Half a Crown.
• * 1.31

  A Game at Cards.
• * 2.1

  This is the night∣garb of such as would in Spain be esteemed Valentóns or Hectors,
• * 2.2

  Or At∣turney.