I Haue chaunced vpon a faire Wife.

Thou hast gotten an hard prouince, be watchful. I haue sayd alredie, that it is an hard thing to keepe that which is desired of many.

My wiues beautie is excellent.

The beau∣tie of the body, as many thynges els, reioyceth commonly in the lyke, and hateth vnlykelynesse and inequalitie. If therefore thou thy selfe be of lyke beautie, thou shalt be busied, if not, thou shalt be contemned, both which are greeuous.

My wiues beau∣tie is great.

Her pride is as great, for there is no∣thing that so much puffeth vp the mind, and maketh proude.

My wiues beautie is passing great.

Take heede that her chastitie be not as small. The Satyrical Poet hath a pretie saying, It is seldome to see beautie and honestie to agree: Whiche admit they be togeather, yet who can abide the insolencie of beha∣uiour, and dayly contempt?

My wyfe is passing fayre.

Then hast thou at home a sumptuous Idole, & a pain∣ful, thou shalt dayly see strange and newe fashions, and dayly dis∣gu•sing of the body, to see howe wel euery thing becommeth, and an inuentyng head to deuise euery way: Now terme the losse of thy patrimonie, a gayne.

I haue a most beautiful wyfe.

Thou hast a contentious Idole, and a proude, whiche beyng assotted, thou mayest woorshyp, whiche beyng rauished, thou mayest woonder at, & honour, and depende wholly vpon her, submit thy necke to her yoke, and reposing thy selfe onely in the beautie of thy wyfe, cast away from thee all other cares, and thyne owne libertie: And, as I sayde erewhyle, beware thou prayse none but her, turne not thine eyes from her face, waxe not faynt in speakyng her fayre, be not lesse fonde then thou wast woont to be, whatsoeuer thou mislikest in her it is treason, al wisedome in thee is forsaken of her: Finally, liue at thy wyues commaundement, & obserue the becking of thy Mistresse as a Drudge, and not as an Husband: Do this yf thou thinke it so great a matter to embrace thy fayre bedfellowe, & to enioy her smooth skin for a litle while, & Page  91to beget chyldren vpon a whyte wombe, as it were to take choyce apples out of a fayre vessell.

I haue a beautiful wyfe.

A sweete poyson, golden fetters, an honourable serui∣tude.

I take pleasure in my wyues beautie.

A vayne and short pleasure. There is nothyng more frayle then beautie, specially a womans. Who so loueth his wyfe for her beauties sake, wyll soone hate her.