The Batchellors banquet, or, A banquet for batchellors wherein is prepared sundry dainty dishes to furnish their tables curiously drest and seriously served in : [p]leasantly discoursing the variable humours of women, their quickness of wits and unsearchable deceits.

CHAP. XI. The humour of a woman to get her Daughter a Husband, having made a little wanton escape.

THe next humour that a woman is addicted unto, is, when a lusty young Gallant riding at pleasure up and down the Countrey, but especially to those places of sports and pleasure where the finest Dames and dainty Girles meet, who can finely mince their Mea∣sures, having their tongues trained up to all kind of amorous chat; in which delightfull exercises, this Youngster both by reason of his youth, his loose bringing up, and natural inclination, takes a great felicity in such vain company: and so much the rather, because he findes himself always welcomed, and kindly entertained to such places, and the reason is the comelinesse of his person, his ami∣able countenance, and queint behaviour: for whosoever hath these good helps, shall want no favour at Womens hands. It may be al∣so, that his parents are still living: and he their onely joy, they having herhaps no Child but him, so that all their most delight is in maintaining him bravely. It may be also, that he is newly come to his Lands, and loves to see fashions, though it cost his purse ne∣ver so largely. If any Gentlewoman offer any kindnesse, he is ready to require it: and at length through long passing to many places, he lights on one that doth exceedingly please his eye, and inflame his heart: she is perhaps Daughter to some Gentleman, some Citizen, or some worthy Farmer. Shee hath a clear com∣plexion,

a fine proportion, a wanton eye, a dainty tongue, and a sharp wit; by reason of all which good gifts, she is grown very fa∣mous. She hath been wooed, sued, and courted by the bravest Gal∣lants in the Countrey; of whom perhaps some one being more for∣ward and couragious than the rest, hath offered her such kindnesse. as sticks by the ribs a good while after, and would needs inforce this courtesie with such importunity, that she had not the power to resist it: for a woman that hath her fine wits, if she be withall of a cheer∣full sanguine complexion, cannot be so unkind, or so hard-hearted as to deny, or repulse the petition of an amorous Friend, if he do any thing earnestly prosecute the same. And (to be plain) be she of what complexion soever, she will be nothing slack to grant such a suit.

But to return to our purpose, by reason of her tender compassi∣on, and kinde acceptance of his proffered service, it so falls out she hath plaid false, then is there no other shift but to keep it both secret and close, and to take such order as they best can, for smoothing up of the matter; he that hath done the deed, being a poor young man, though proper of body, and perhaps can dance very well, by which good quality he won her favour, and within a while after cropt the flower of her maidenhead: he (I say) after a week or two, and no further matter (lest this privy, scape should be openly known) is war∣ned from coming any more to the house, or frequenting her company whatsoever.

But now you must note, that she being but a simple girle, between fourteen and fifteen years of age, nothing expert, but rather a no∣vice in such matters, and having been but lately deceived, knows not her self how it is with her: But her Mother which by long ex∣perience hath gotten great judgement, doth by her colour, her com∣plaining of pain at her heart and stomach: with other like tokens, perceive it well enough, and having (as before I said) cashiered the Author of the action: then takes she her daughter aside, and schools her so that in the end she confesseth that he hath been dallying with her, but she knows not whether to any purpose or not. Yes (saith her Mother) it is to such purpose, as by these signes I know very well, that you have thereby both shamed your self, and all our friends, and spoiled your marriage quite and clean.

To be short, having somewhat chid her after the common order, for having no more respect nor care of her honesty, (yet not chiding

very extreamly, because she knows the frailty of youth by her own former experience) she concludes thus comfortably: Sith it is done, and cannot be altogether remedied, she will seek both to hide and salve the matter as well as she can, charging her Daughter ta set a good countenance on it, lest it should bee suspected, and to follow her counsell and commandement in all things: Whereupon the poor Wench willingly consenteth, then the Mother proceeds thus:

You know Master T. A. that cometh hither so often, he is you see a proper Gentleman, and a rich Heir, to morrow he hath appointed to be here again: Look that you give him good entertainment. and shew him good countenance. When you see me and the rest of our Guests talking and discoursing together, ever and anon cast your eyes on him, in the kindest and lovingest manner that you can. If he seem desirous to speak with you, be not coy, but hear him willing∣ly, answer him courteously. If he intreat love of you, tell him that you know not what it means, and that you have no desire at all to know it; yet thank him for his good will; for that Woman is too un∣courteous and uncivill, which will not vouchsafe the hearing or gent∣ly answering to those that love her and wish her well.

If he offer you money take none in any case; if a ring, or a girdle, or any such thing, at the first refuse it, yet kindly and with great thanks: but if he urge it on you twice or thrice, take it, telling him sith that he will needs bestow it on you you will wear it for his sake. Lastly, when he takes his leave, ask him when he will come again: These instruments being thus given, and the plot laid for the fetch∣ing in of this kind fool into Lobs pound:

The next day he cometh, and is on all hands more kindly wel∣come and entertained: after dinner, having had great cheer, the Mo∣ther falls in talk with the other guests, and this frollick Novice gets him as neer to her Daughter as he can, and while the other are hard in chat he takes her by the hand, and thus begins to court her:

Gentlewoman, I would to God you knew my thoughts. Your thoughts Sir (saith she) how should I know them, except you tell them me? It may be you think something that you are loth to tell. Not so (saith he) yet I would you knew it without telling. But that (saith she smiling) is impossible. Then (quoth he) if I might doe it without offence, I would adventure to tell you them. Sir (saith she) you may freely speak your pleasure: for I do so much assure me of

your honesty, that I know you will speak nothing that may procure offence.

Then thus (saith he) I acknowledge without feigning, that I am far unworthy of so great a favour, as to be accepted for your Ser∣vant, friend, and lover, which are so fair, so gentle, and every way so gracious, that I may truly say, you are replenished with all the good gifts that nature can plant in any mortal creature: But if you would vouchsafe me this undeserved grace, my good will, diligence, and continual forwardnesse to serve and please you shall never fail: but I would therein equal the most loyal lover that ever lived, I would esteem you more than any thing else, and tender more your good name and credit than mine own.

Good Sir (quoth she) I heartily thank you for your kind offer, but I pray you speak no more of such matters, for I neither know what love is, nor yet care for knowing it: This is not the lesson that my Mother teacheth me now adays. Why (saith he) if it please you, she shall know nothing of it; yet the other day I heard her talk of preferring you in marriage to one Master G. R. How say you to that (quoth she?) Marry thus (answers the Gentleman) if you would vouchsafe to entertain me for your Servant, I would never marry but onely rely upon your favour.

But that (said she) should be no profit to either of us both, & beside it would be to my reproach, which I had not thought you would seek. Nay (quoth he) I had rather dye then seek your discredit. Well Sir (saith she) speak no more hereof, for if my Mother should perceive it, I were utterly undone. And it may be her Mother makes her a sign to give over, fearing she doth not play her part well.

At the breaking up of their amorous Parley, he conveys into her hand a gold ring, or some such toy, desiring her to take it and keep it for his sake: which at the first (according to her Mothers precepts) she doth refuse: but upon his more earnest urging of it, she is content to take it in the way of honesty, and not on any promise or condition of any farther matter: when it was brought to this passe, the mother makes metion of a journey to be made the next morning, some ten or twelve miles off, to visit, or feast with some friend, or to some Fair, or whatsoever other occasion presents it self. To this moti∣on they all agree, and afterwards sit down to supper, where he is placed next the Daughter, who carries her self so toward him with

her piercing glances, that the young Heir is set on fire therewith: Well, morning comes: they mount on Horseback, and by the opi∣nion of them all: there is never a Horse in the company that can carry double but his: So the gull is appointed to have the Maiden ride behinde him, wherefore he is not a little proud: and when he feels her hold fast by the middle (which she doth to stay her self the bet∣ter) he is even ravished with joy.

After their returning home, which perhaps will be the same night the Mother taking the Daughter aside, questions with her, touching all that had passed between the amorous Gallant, and her: which when her daughter had rehearsed, then proceeds the wily Gran∣dame thus: If he court thee any more (as I know he will) then make him answer that thou hast heard thy father and me talk of marching thee with Master G. R. but that thou hast no desire as yet to be mar∣ried: if he then offers to make thee his Wife, and use any compa∣risons of his worth and wealth as though he were every way as good as he, thank him for his good will and kindnesse, and tell him that you will speak with me about it, and that for thy own part thou couldst find in thy heart to have him to thy Husband rather than any one else: upon this lesson the daughter sleeps, revolving it all night in her mind.

The next morning she walkes into the Garden and this lusty yonker follows; when having given her time of the day, he falls to his former suit. She wills him to give over such talk, or she will leave his company: Is this the love you bear me, (quoth she) to seek my dishonesty? you know well enough that my Father and Mother are minded to bestow me otherwise.

Ah my sweet Mistress (saith he) I would they did so far favour me herein, as they do him: I dare boldly say and swear it, and without vain glory utter it, that I am every way his equall. Oh Sir, (answers she) I would he were like you. Ah sweet Mistress (saith he) you dain to think better of me than I deserve, but if you would further vouchsafe me that other favour, I should esteem my self most happy. In troth Sir (saith she) it is a thing that I may not do of my self, without the counsel and consent of my Pa∣rents, to whom I would gladly move it, if I thought they would not be offended: But it would be so much the better, if you brake the matter unto them; and be sure, if they refer the matter to me,

you shall speed as soon as any. He being ravished with these words, and yielding her infinite thanks, trots presently to the Mother, to get her good will.

To be short (with some little adoe) the matter is brought about, even in such sort as he would desire: they are straight way contracted, and immediately wedded, both because that her friends fear that the least delay will prevent all, and because he is so hot on the spur, that he thinks every hour a year till it be done. Well, the wedding night comes, wherein she behaves her self so (by her Mothers counsell) that he dares swear on the Bible that he had her Maidenhead.

Within a while after, it comes to his Friends ears, without whose knowledge he hath married himself, who are exceeding sorry, knowing she was no meet match for him, and it may be they have heard withall of his Wives humour: but now there is no remedy that knot is knit, and cannot be undone, they must therefore have patience perforce.

Well he brings his fair Bride home to his own house, where (God wot) he hath but a small time of pleasure, for within three or four moneths after their marriage, she is brought to bed: Iudge then in what taking the poor man is. If he put her away, his shame will be publick, she grows common, and he not permitted to marry a∣gain while he lives, and if he keep her still, love her he cannot, suspect her he will, and she both hate him, & perhaps seek his end: Finally, all the joys, pleasures, and delights which before time they had, are all turned to brawls, banning, cursing and fighting, Thus is he hampered in Lobs pound, where he must of force remain, till death ends his lives miseries.