then I would I had not and refuse thy friendship then displease my father Oh Philamour thy temptations are in force lyke the stoane of Archadie which layde on orye stickes kindleth sire the which I had rather quenche in Hamon then comforte in Athanians The shorte is I cannot loue thee naye more I wyll not lyke thee desiring rather to leade Apes in hell then marrye a crooked Apostle on earth yet for Philamis sake I vouchsafe thee this fauour to let thee know he is the â—…fest in my grace and none but hee shall be Lord of my â—…cie so wishing thee to leaue thy perswasions and learne more patience I bid thee farewell Harpaste No sooner had she dispatched this pertmptorie replie but she returned to Philamis who seeing hir coulâ—…r chaunged and hir curtesie waxen could began thus Howe now Harpastes howe like you my plea not so well as your person said she which if I should set light by it were a slight matter in that you are so slie a messenger Why Madame replyed Philamis haue you found any error I would I had not said Harpaste so you had lost your labour houlde take this Libell and carrie it to your Lawyer wherein he shall finde I except so much that I accept nothing Philamis troubled with this gleeke began in this sorte once againe to rub vppon the gall Why my Harpaste I had well hoped that Philamours desert should deserue more pittie then impatience what he deserues sayd she he may deuine by my sentence as for your selfe if you haue sutes of your owne you were best follow them for beleeue me his is non suited I but madame replyed Philamis shall he not be welcome to the buriall Welcome sayd Harpaste belecue me none better I had rather waight on his burials then bridals and so tell him Herewith all with a disdainfull blushe she soddainlye forsooke his company and Philamis departed thence wholye discontent And as wretched fortune would hee passed by Eurimones doore at such time as in hir greatest triumph she sat to showe hir selfe expecting to giue some due to some one of hir Lâ—…uers who espying Philamis soddenly called him vnto hir girding at him in this sort Now fares our gallant stranger what hath not anye goodly lasses as yet 〈◊〉 you honour Venus Yes faire Eurimone quoth he I haue with the Athenian long time playd with Venus shadowe and were you as forward in fauour as I could deserue in fancie what then sayd Eurimone I would then replyed Philamis play with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 your person you would hurt 〈◊〉 I feare me sayd she 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hir Madame quoth Philamis wherupoÌ„ setching 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sigh he in this sort discouered his fancie Oh 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 your 〈◊〉 hath graÌ„ted me a clew to trace loues 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 your goodnes vouchsafeth me to speake to 〈◊〉 whoÌ„ I most serue I wil 〈◊〉 my passions by your patience which if they may 〈◊〉 you as they haue mated me beleeue me I shall enioy the fulnes of my ioy you 〈◊〉 my faithfulnes and loyaltie Truth it is 〈◊〉 that I loue you and Venus hath past such iudgement on my paint as it cannot be reuersed but by your pittie since therefore my affections are firme and you fitte for fancie you yoong and I youthfull you faire and I faithfull vouchsafe the oportunity and salue my impatient sorrow since crueltie is y â— staine of your credit and pittie the greatest of your perfections Eurimone like a cunning fowler seeing the bird alreadie pend in the snare began in this sort to play with his feathers Why Philamis I am sure you are too learned to loue which is a sicknesse of the mind a surfet of idlenessc Beleeue nice I know you mocke Loue for you cannot meane not Loue. May it bee thought that a man who writes so well should doate so sooneâ—… Or he who can square out the quadrant be so farre out of square Alas Philamis I am too yong to be marryed and too old to be mocked I pray you therefore exercise your gibes on other for my nose loues no iesting Philamis seeing her impatience replyed thus If my sunplicitie shoulde bee taken for subtiltie and my deuotion for doublenes beleeue mee Eurimone I had rather die than speake any thing and perish ere I would perswade but since Loue as Garimbert saith surmounteth the fortresse of the spirit carueth the hard Diamonds warmeth the cold I sicles that often lie hidden in the brestes of delicate Ladies I will speake in that hope and vow that I auow nothing but truth Plato hauing long time lead a chast life finally in his latter dayes made his sacrifice to satisfie and appease nature in that he seemed greatly to haue offended her by his seuere chastitie time lost in loue is the lame time of our life and Ladyes that loath when they arc wisht are soonest lefte when they would Ah Eurimone thou art yoong and must be yeelding thou art a saire rose and must be gathered a pretty bud and must be plucked thou art fitte for mans meat and meete for marriage which since in aâ—…l honorable 〈◊〉 I 〈◊〉 vnto you repay me not with 〈◊〉 for my 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 nor wiâ—…h 〈◊〉 for my good deserts Beleue me Eurimone as salt sauoreth so it fretteth as Salsa parilla dryeth so it decayeth as lingering is sweete in loue so too long lingering breedes languishing Oh seeke not thou my griefe least I proue thee vngratefull these mâ—…yst teares trickling from my mournful eyes since they are my witnessâ—…s in loue craue that thy chast thoughts may preuent thy wilfulnes in loue Eurimone like the faulcon seeing the fowle stoope began to strike and the flye intangled left not to follow him but gaue Philamis this gillop to coole his hot stomacke Oh sir they that go a marrying run a madding who are inforced to make those who now would 〈◊〉 their heeles then to be their heads Philamis in faith you are too wise to perswade me and I wise enough to repulse you it is a principle in Phisike y t the knowledge of sicknes is to some men tâ—…e occasion of death therefore gentle friend complayne not of this loue sicknes least in stead of bedding you we bury you it were meere pittie when so hot a Gentleman who will carry no coaâ—…es must bee borne like a coarse possession they say is in loue the strongest point I will therefore 〈◊〉 my loue though you demaund it and I promise you wâ—…en I meane next to learne huswifery you shalbe the last that shall husband mee In this scoffing 〈◊〉 r left she Philamis who seeing himselfe forsaken and his friend forlorne departed in such discontent to his lodging that neyther imagining howe to consort or conuerse with Philamour he cast him the reply of Harpaste resoluing euer afterwards to shun the presence of so pestilent a mynion and in this sort entering his chamber hee cast him on his bed spending his time in such languishing lamentes that the report thereof
vnfor â—…ate In briefe he hath no noble mind neither is magnanimous indeede who is broken with iniurie But to leaue this and prosecute our purpose Philamis being in this sort falne lâ—…y long time amazed weltering in his bloud and awaiting his death when Clorius a shepheard who kept the grange of Nicrosion scituate neare at hande secking out some stray lambes at last bcheld this lamentable spectacle when mooued by compassion he with a bloud stone which he carried about him stopped y e issue applying such coÌ„fortable salues that there was some hope of the Gentlemans succor Philamis more deade with vnkindnes than daunted with his wounds sâ—…king to shun the consort of all men beeing demaunded what he was shrowded his name labouring by all means possible to recouer such a course of liâ—… as might be free from the furie of fortune or the inconstancy of frends Wherupon remaining in Niciosions grange with old Clorius till such time as his wounds were healed hee wrought such priuye meanes by postes that he had some supplies out of his owne Countrye charging his deerest frendes to conceale the course of his safety he sought out the mountaynes â—…here buying through the assistance of Clorius a desolate and sweete seate on the top of a pleasant hill compassed with a faire groue hauing a sweet riuer murmering alongst it resembling Petrarchs seat neere Sorga among the thickest of the mountaines of Stiria hee betooke himselfe to his studie earnestly intending naturall Magicke wherein in short space he became so skiâ—…full that he not onely grewe famous in Austria but through all Bohemia where I will leaue him for a while hauing recourse to Philamour who entring his chamber vnsuspected caused a rumor to be spread of Philamis sodain depart out of Passan seeming to take y e vnkindnes heauily where in sooth his soule groned actually to remember his vngratiousnes he changed his youthful colors to ruthful discontent and in all â—…riumphs called himselfe the Knight of despaire neuer may heart imagine what mone hee conceyued if in priuate conference Philamis were named in that hauing a fewe dayes after searched for him to giue him secret sepulture he was sodainly carryed away often when he was solitary and had liberty to lament he watering his wan cheekes with weeping moysture began in this manner to expresse his complaints Woe is mee whose anger is the beginning of my folly the fall of my fortune who seeking my Philamis torture haue tormented my selfe Euen as the rust consumeth the Iron the moth the cloth the worme the woode So enuie the worst of all vices and rage the direst of all furies hath reâ—…te me of my friend hath roâ—…d me of my delights Oh that with delight and my frend I might loose my life too smal a plague for my ouer hasty peruersenesse Oh furie the surfet of Fortune that robbedst Alexander of his Clitus Dionisius of his Plato and mee of my Philamis Oh beautie thou deuourer of my delightes and death the possessor of my pleasure I would I had shunned the one and slept with the other or that my heart bloud might recouer his lost life but why bewayle I his fatall losse and forget my liuing torment Thou louest Philamour but art lothed oh fruitlesse comfort for faithfull seruice Harpaste is too faire to bee dispraised but thou too vnkind to be pittyed Philamis dyed by thy rage and disdainest thou to die by hir rigour The Marcians liue amongst serpents in peace without stinging the Phelii amongst vipers and not stiâ—…d oh fortunate they who among the hâ—…rs of nature find grace where I among the glories oâ—… nature die for griâ—…fe In this sort passed Philamour his life seeking all mâ—…anes to conquer the loue of Harpaste who after many repulses at last being wearyed with sâ—…tes 〈◊〉 him this peâ—…ce that vnlesse hee could bring the body of 〈◊〉 aliue and make Laite as bigge as Daâ—…by for two dayes hee shoulde neuer enioy her fauour or bee enterâ—…ned in her thoughtes Philamour enioyned to these 〈◊〉 thought it neuer pâ—…ssible to enioy her fauour 〈◊〉 conquering his hard fortune with a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hoping that inundations might effect the one of hir requests and fortune present him with the other hee set forwardes in quest of which his purpose let me leaue him to laugh with you faire ladies or at least wise to lament the follyes of some fine fillie follies among you who are like vipers in your â—…ings and for all your venâ—…mes you carry meanes to â—…ale mens harmes and recount vnto you the storie of Eurimone who during the presence of Philamis could prâ—… it in his absence repented hir for whether it were femeniâ—… feare or dissembled â—…ffection or some such folly or fancie that haunteth that sweete kind of cattel no sooner did she heare of Philamis departure but suspecting that hir coy answere had beene the occasion of his concealed depart she sodainly â—…led the whole house with her fond complaints renting hir haire and beating hir brest shewing such apparant signes of repent that euery man pittied hir pensiuenesse in briefe the 〈◊〉 of her griefe was so great and hir imperfections so many hir body beeing weake hir mind weaker that sodainly she loft hir wits continually exclaiming on the name of Philamis neither did the nobilitie of hir birth nor the reprehensions of hir friends nor ought els cause hir to forbeare but hir onely thought was on Philamis In this raging madnes continued she for the space of a whole yeare at which time after much penury and many miseries shee ended hir youthfull dayes and being riâ—…hly intombed was honored with this Epitaph The Epitaph of Eurimone Heere lies ingraude in prime of tender age Eurimone too pearlesse in disdaine Whose proud contempt no reason might asswage till loue to quite all wronged louers paine Bereft her â—…ts when as her friend was gone Who now 〈◊〉 tombed in this marble stone Let Ladies learne her lewdnes to eschew and whilst they lyue in freedome of delight To take remorse and louers sorrowes rew For why contempt is answered with dispight Remembring still this sentence sage and ould Who will not yonge they may not when they would Contrariwise Harpaste with more moderation kept Philamis in remembrance gouerning bir affections with such a raigne that though inwardly she felt the wound yet outwardly no one could perceiue the scar or showe of scath Such gouernment had she ouer hir fancies as Curio had in entertaining temporall fortunes who being presented by the Samnits with great sums of gould laughed hartely returning this constant answer Go you embassadors and tell the Samnites that Curio desireth rather to rule them that haue possession of gould then to haue gould and that neither money shall corrupt me nor dread of mine enemies confound me So was Harpaste as Curio moderate but not with like meane for as the one fancied not wealth so the other was fond of loue yet in that Harpaste being a woman couloured so well
loue had I in learning spent Oh what a ioy had we arie age enioyed Had I foreseene the wastfull course of time I then had made my haruest in my prime But now when feeble footsteps are allied Vnto the graue this sinfull bodies hould I cannot practise though I haue espyed The way of worth the grace exceeding gould What only rests sweete young men that shall follow I know the sourse and now will teach the shallow Preuent the time the dayes are full of danger Whilst youthfull vigor yeelds you furtherance Make reason guide let follie be a straunger Vertue is perfected by art and vsance Enritch your mindes with skill for why they must Remaine eterne when boddie is but dust Let not your eyes infeebled be by sinne Cut short presumption for it will aspire Who takes aduice amendment dooth begin Sub due your wils and maister your desirâ—… A modest coate chast thoughts and studious artes A dorne the boddie minde and inward partes These lines are lines like Ariadnes clewe To leade thee through the Laborinth of greefe Who so thou be that vertue wilt ensew More sweete in sooth then show in true releefe Good Countrimen still prone what I haue tould Least you repent with me when you are ould In this sort Anthenor councelled his countrey meu warning them by his experience to preuent their youthlie negligence but Philamis not perceiuing that the rotten wood which glistereth in the night is gray and drye in the day time that delights which are faire in showe are foule in substance that things which are best in apparance are woorst in proofe followed his â—…uld course and defaulted in his youthfull inconstancie thinking that the tide would haue no ebbe the time would haue no ende Among all such as conuersed with him there was a young Gentleman of the same yeares and no lesse substance called Philamour who cyther for that he agreed in nature with Philamis or for that necessitie would haue it so entered an inuiolable league of amitie with the braue Rauennois these couple counited by vowes and vnited by loue lyued together in such manner that if Philamis sighed Philamour was sorrie if Philamour was pleasant Philamis was not pensiue if Phllamis would mourne Philamour was melancholie if Philamour passionate for loue Philamis was loues patient what Philamis said Philamour would sooth what Philamour intended Philamis ended so that neither Eurialus was more deere to his Nisus nor Caesar to Cicero nor Ephestion to Alexander nor Lucilius to Seneca then Philâ—…mour to Philamis In this sort passed they theyr time in Passan so that there seemed to bee one soule in two bodyes one heart in two harboures neither seperated at boorde nor seuered at bed but as idle mindes haue yeelding motions and such as are intangled with libertie are soonest thrauled by loue so Philamour like the light Fether in the strong winde the slender skiffe in the greatest storme the weake Willowe in the wastefull ouer ouerfloâ—…e traâ—…ersing the streetes with his frâ—…nds and seeking how to satisfie his fantasse at last beheld the daughter of Nicrosion a Noble man of that Cittye wâ—…â—…d no other heyre but Harpaste nor other hope but hit good â—…ortune this Ladye was beautifull beyond woonder ' and more wittie then wealthie hir bodye was adorned with the guiftes of nature hauing eyes as faire as the Carbuncle but more cleerer Cheekes more crimson then the Rose but sweeter Lippes Cherrieripe limmes choicely framed her minde with staied iudgement reddy thoughts pleasant conceits perfect constancie treasure enough to intangle the eye riches sufficient to rauishe the soule These perfections had so much power ouer Philamour that he tooke no other comfort but in hir company her eye was his Idol her wordes were his Oracles so that he seemed to confesse with Alexis that loue was the infallible mistresse of men killing all former pleasures in them planting theyr delight on one onely obiect which the more a man seeth the more he seeketh neither was young Philamis vnattainted But in contrarie sort for Harpaste behoulding his hautye lookes his honourable learning his braue discourse his boulde demeanour his Socraticall questions his Iudiciall aunswers began to catche houlde where there was no handle to kindle Fuell where there was no Fier and to beginne hir loue where there was no lyking This entrance made Fortune to manifest troubles making this her induction to most tyrannicall cruelties for the more Philamour courted Harpaste the more she contemned him the more Harpaste laboured to allure Philamis the more Philamis neglected the loue of Harpaste Manye were the presents on both sides many the perswations many the priuie sighes to importe fancie manye the apparant shewes of vnfayned fauour if Philamour complayned hee found no comforte if Harpaste bemooned hir shee foâ—…e no medicine But Fortune which is accustomed with great Arte as Garimbert wrighteth to take feare from those ouer whom she most meaneth to tyranise in midst of Philamis security shewed hir greatest seuerity for he chaunsed oh vnfortunate chance to behould Eurinome the disdainefâ—…ll the paragon of comlinesse but the patterne of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 had a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 a Circes 〈◊〉 to enchaunt Phillis beautie but Amarillis pride Oh too faire 〈◊〉 she was eloquent to 〈◊〉 learned 〈◊〉 contempue shee was wilye to 〈◊〉 men wretched shee 〈◊〉 smile to see men sighe 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Eurinome this the aime of his conceit this the ende of his comfort Amidst the passionate estate of these louers Philamour that was first caught in the 〈◊〉 was most of all tormented in his loue confessing with Aristotle that onely beauties eyes were eloquent protesting with Plato that loue was a sage Poet and made other 〈◊〉 for his onely comforte was to contemplate one Harpaste and his minde altogether before time addicted to pleasure was wholy giuen ouer to painte out her prayses in Poetrie One especiall day among the rest Harpaste desirous to discouer 〈◊〉 discontents perswaded her father Nicrotion to make a solemne feast wherevnto among the rest Philamis for loue and Philamour for fashion sake were inuited Thether also repaired Eurimòne the 〈◊〉 bearing a browe of Iuorie a brest of Adamant Great was the assembly on that day sumptuous the Banquet These louers obserued Ouids obseruations at the Table making such prittye combates with their longing eyes that theyr hearts through impatience were well nye consumed with pashion The Dinner 〈◊〉 and Table taken vp according to the custome of Austria the Gentlemen first daunced theyr Courranto some 〈◊〉 their Temples with wreaths of Mirtill other with Garlands of Roses each one presenting theyr 〈◊〉 with a seuerall Flower Philamis among the rest with due reuerence gaue Eurinome a Marigoulde Philamour bestowed a 〈◊〉 on Harpaste hearing their Corronets of 〈◊〉 in their handes when being desired by the Ladyes and Gentlemen to discouer the secret of theyr presents Philamis being most forwarde commaunded the Cornets to sounde this Barginet when taking Eurinome by the hande he began the
dâ—…cease of our freends our excesse of teares are our surfets of follie Thou wilt say that each things according to nature is good for so sayd Tullie since then nothing is more naturall then to die why mourneth Harpaste for the losse of Claetia caust thou recouer hir by thy teares that is impossible if thou canst not as I am sure thou maist not beleeue me this greefe is superfluous fondnesse not zealous pietie she was not borne in vaine in that she dyed but in that she liued improfitably she died vnhâ—…ppily Oh my Harpaste discharge these furrowes dismisse these follies death is the porte life the sea of trouble life the storme death the securitie life the corrisiue death the comfort death the end of sorrow life the beginning Socrates deuising among his familiars newes was brought him that his sonne Sophriniscus was dead and what followed he couered not his face with a vaile but confirmed his heart with vertue and in steed of bewayling him he sayd come lâ—…t vs burie him wilt thou mourne because thy friend hath out gone thee in thy iourney or for that hee hath attained the end for which he liued oh Harpaste this were mcere ignorance this is immoderate follie for euen as they are worse then Idiots that beate the sunne in that it shineth so are they ouer simple that lament th at for a maime which is the aime of nature nature thou saist hath robd thee of a Neece and did she not giue hir thee thou hast lost hir in hir prime she was to loose to be pyttied who greeueth to see the Rose blasted in the bud when he knoweth the Rose is but a dayes tasting who greeueth to see that weakened that was borne to waine Fabianus sayth that those who lament the dead are like such as weepe because they waxeould and Philimon that such as are sorrie for the deceased seeme to condempe nature which bringing many things to a prime must needly haue some thing perish If thou will needly weepe Harpaste for that thy Claetia is to be buryed why waylest thou not in that she was borne for had she not liued she had not beene so lewd and had she not beene so lewd she were not to be lamented and good Lord in dying how much detriment hath she escaped since death is euery mans end manies remedy some mens vow and wretched mens welfare she hath now no cause to beweepe hir inconstancie to wayle hir losse of friends to sigh hir change of fortune in briefe in one storme she hath escaped all tempests for as nothing is more seuere in showe 〈◊〉 death so 〈◊〉 nothing more sweete in substance death setteth the 〈◊〉 at libertie in dispight of his maister death deliuereth the Captiue from his Chaine the Prisoner from his penâ—…ie the condempned from his dungeon Death teacheth the exile to forget his countrie Death maketh all things common in breefe Death leaueth nothing carefull and death is that which Câ—…aetia hath tasted and for hir death it is that Harpaste lamenteth Oh ignorant of euill thou makest houey gall thou accomptest Antimony Egrimonie the Be anâ—… Baâ—…ll the Hearbe-grace Hemlock the pleasure poison consider Harpaste and considering counsaile thy selfe that opinion maketh miserie and that if thou wert not peremptorie in thy weeping thâ—…u caâ—…t yeeld no proofe of wretchednes Liuia lost hir sonne yet lamented not for seeing the father was gone before she knew the sonne must follow after then greeue thou not since Claetia is seazed by that which thou must â—…uffer neither sigh thee for feare the wiser sort accuse thee of enuie who sorrowest in that shee hath ouergone thee in happinesse in briefe Harpaste die to these toyes and drie by thy teares striue thee to amend that wherein she liued misgouerned so shall I reioyce at thy vertue and then inioye the fruites of my counsaile Thine in all vertue PHILAMIS Philamis hauing finished his letter both signed sealed it and sent it away spending all his other indeuors in meditation of his mistres and comforting his Philamour who poore Gentleman tossed in the sâ—…as of sorrow like a ship without a helme grew so wan with weakenes pale with pensiuenesse that euery one who beheld him thought him more fit for his funerals then meete for his mariage Philamis who preferred the safetie of his friend before his owne sollace in midst of his dumpes assailed him with this aduice How now my Philamour what wilt thou be so spent with griefe as to be past gouernment so giuen ouer to mone that thou wilt forget thou art a man â—…oderate teares are like immesurable showers which in steed of feeding the plants with forwardnes ouerflow theÌ„ with furie these weeping asswage not but incite gâ—…iefe which with the Aspis pricking but the arme pierceth the hart thy disease is not sicknes but want of foresight neyther any fauor but fancie a graft of thine owne eyes planting a griefe proceeding from thy owne idlenes The Tortuse â—…eping in the sun is soonest surprised the Mullet strained by the gill is sonest betraied in briefe your 〈◊〉 beuers are like y e trouts fish caught with tickling consumed by fancie because you will be foolish Fie my Philamour let reason teach thee that loue is but a sightly sweet not a substantiall shadowed in the shape of a woman to show hir wantonnes painted in the figure of a flying Child to show his fleeting inconstancie If thy reason had as great power as it ought and were thy opinions restrained by good perswasions thou shalt coÌ„fesse that time spent in loue is time lost in life then which before God there is nothing more foolish then which the more griefe there is not any thing more followed There is nothing can be vertuous that endeth in repent what then loue is more repented when it is possessed the ioyes are no soner attempted then ended a little kindnes maks him who was as hote as a tost as coole as a clock But say thou loue a Penelope euen in this chaste loue thou shalt haue some crosse a woman to kill thee with weepings Laertes to trouble thee with his lothed age Telemachus to try thee with his childish teares riuals to tempt thy wife if she wilbe wanton roisters to reuel in thy hall in briefe this one wife is the occasioÌ„ of many woes this one Penelope the cause of much preiudice say she be a Helena oh thou â—…happy that must weare Vulcans badge on thy browe and beare the seales of hir shame thy scant foresight Beâ—… Philamour as there is no shadow without a substance no Leopard without his spot no Lizâ—…d without his staine no sweete without his sower so is there no Woman without hir fault no Lady without hir imperfections may be faulse say she 〈◊〉 wise she will be wilfull say she 〈◊〉 an ideot she is a burthen how so euer she be she 〈◊〉 chuse but bee a woman which from their in fancie follow new fanglenesse say thy wise
be fruitfull and bring thee infants euen herein maist thou be infortunate when loofe heyres shall lâ—…ish out thy heritage say she hee barrame thou wilt loath hir what so euer she be beleeue me she hath a longing tooth and a long tonge two ill neighbors in one bodie the one will weaken thy purse if it be still pleased the other waken thee from thy sleepes if it be not iustly charmed Beleeue me it was worthily sayd of Tully and not fo worthily as wisely that it is extreame follie to delight our selues in those things in which there is more excessing pleasure then exceeding profit The baites of louers saith Ruben the art they vse the snares they set the 〈◊〉 they shew are not all these fruites of Uanitie It is 〈◊〉 â—…aith 〈◊〉 to behould faire things but not to bee too bould with them for as Zenophon â—…aith the fire burneth and a faire face inflameth harke what Seneca alledgeth there was neuer faire woman whose beautie was not accompanied eyther with crueltie or whose heart was not thrauled by ingratitude To bee briefe my Philamour since nothing is more curssed then curious follie nor anye thing more vncomlie then for a man to disclaime libertie good friend be good to thy selfe and leaue griefe otherwise in languisâ—…ing as thou doost and liuing thus desolate thou wilt kill me in being cruell to thy selfe and end my dayes by eternizing thy discontents Philamour finding that as the fire cannot be opprest nor the ayre be indomaged by strokes so the minde afflicted by loue cannot bee drawne from affection returned 〈◊〉 this aunswer Deare friend as no tyrant in Scithia is so cruell as to forbid the miserable to weepe so no mans heart can be so incensed to draw them from distresse who wholy are deuoured in heauâ—…nesse hast thou not read of Socrates who being by onely death sayd he for 〈◊〉 dateth â—…ut 〈◊〉 â—…eath and calamitie finisheth with life Thou art sorry to 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 sad and this is kindnesse but wert thou settled to 〈◊〉 my sâ—…ccors how palpable were thy curtesie Well sayd Menander that he that is sick in body had néede of the 〈◊〉 but he that is crucified in spit it had need of a friend I haue heard thee speake well Philamis but would haue thee doo well thou perceiuâ—…st I loue thou then perceiuest a deepe wound Philamis a lingring passion but deuine in possession loue is like Darius Uine ritch in showe like Architas Doue cunning in flight which thou maist catch with thine eye but not cast of without thine end your proud Philosophers for all their precepts haue sacrificed Roses to this Venus borne a Candle before this Saint being Lordes of theyr sayings but not of theyr sences Plato commended by Augustine for his heauenly policies had his paramoure who in his deepest studdies had rather see Archanaesse naked then discourse vpon nature who being a block in euery letchers way in hir youth when the Crowes foote had caught hir eye was Platoes deerest pigsney and hee who before time was famous in many wrightings became in his best time inâ—…amous being besotted on many wrinckles Socrates though he were patient was entangled by Aspatia Demosthenes the eloquent a louer Leocrates though a great Philosopher loued the flesh Pericles though famous for wit loued a faire Woman Aristotle for all his Metaphiskes was loue sick making his happines of none but Hermia in briefe it is a common rule these leárned men haue y e lightest mistresses do penance before the world for their peremptorines of wit O Philamis if it be possible to charme loue why were these inchanted if they were toucht in their excelence why should I greeue to be tryed in my ignorance who washeth the Asses eares looseth both his Sope and his labour who endeuoreth impossible things mispendeth his cost and his candle in disswading loue Then sweete friend thou followest the nature of Hiosciames which hath a blacke graine but a grosse fruite and vnder shadowe of inforcing sleepe â—…ereaueth the sences Make mee Caucasus a playne Danubie drie Ripheus without snowe driue the Pilat fish from the Sharke the Iron from the Loadstone then take loue from a liberall minde Oh Philamis Loue is the bond that linketh the heauens and should I loath it Loue the sweet that makes the Gods insaciate and should I leaue it But to proceed and prosecute reason Thou condemnest Loue seeking by a fewe shadowes of imperfection to extinguish the sweetnesse of pleasure Oh my Philamis thou canst not haue the effecte but the defect followeth neyther the honny in the Bee but the pricke in the bum beleeue mee as it is rashnesse to condemne that which thou canst not determine So in some thinges it is better to bee deceyued than to distrust You blame all for one making all skinnes fowle in that some are scard all bodyes without beautie in that some haue blottes attyring all natures in one necessitie as if all 〈◊〉 shoulde bee blasted because some bloome not all waters shoulde bee deadly in that some indaunger and all women wicked in that some are wanton Oh Philamis though there was a lewâ—… Phillis there was a louely Philacides and though a loose Lais yet a louing Iphias Parcite paucarum diffundere crimeâ—… in omnes Spectetur meritis quaeque puella suis. Heare Ouid for hee was ominous Saepe viri fallunt els Iason had vsed lesse iest and Medea possessed more ioy Theseus had deserued more Ariadne had serued lesse Demophon had kept his promise Phyllis scapther penance You iudge women by colours and tye diuinitie to conceits where Aristotle neuer wrote surer Axiome tâ—…an this that as when the Raine-bow sheweth then there forepasseth a showâ—…r So when Ladies shew freshest couloâ—…s of coustancie then men doâ—… most colour bâ—…shrow their painting women owe them penance But to drawe nearer to catch occasion by the fore-locke and curtall my Philamis in his folly if nature had done nothing in vaine as the philosopher affirmeth then the bonde wherewith shee tyeth thinges cannot bee in vaine the harmony of the heauens consisteth on loue yea such force and effect hath loue in all thinges that the Uine imbraceth the 〈◊〉 the Iuiâ—… the Oke seeming to delight in the barke when the body is dead in stones the 〈◊〉 loues iron in mettals golde quick-siluer among mortall which are saints man would not be besotted with these sweete saints Proue that Venus haue a yellow colour yet Mars will followe Venus good mens pleasures depende not vppon bad mens precisenes But to leaue long discourse since wordes haue no power to expresse true worthinesse my Philamis know thou that I loue neyther can I discharge mee of that thraldome but by myne owne ouerthrowe It behooueth thee therefore in louing mee to styrre vp Harpastes loue towardes mee otherwise as thou vnderstandest not the least of my ieopardies so shalt thou beholde the last of my ioyes Philamis that knewe the cloth by the lyst the Lyon by his clawe and
Paul another from an Apostle doth grow to be an â—…oistata for such as may and will not be let their sinnes light on their heads for the righteous blessed be the Lord that hath chosen them into his fould for such as fall and may rise I wyll 〈◊〉 somewhat Philamis for it is my custome but I would 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that were all our 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 thou 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 thâ—…u 〈◊〉 thy fault 〈◊〉 leaue O mortal man to perseuer in thy follyes For 〈◊〉 Augustine saith As the loue of God is the well of vertue so is the loue of the world the wel of vices Come vnto me saith Christ all such as are laden I will ease 〈◊〉 Bernard saith the perfect seruaunt of Christ loueth nothing but him If then 〈◊〉 man thou 〈◊〉 doted on thy riches reconcile thy selfe take thy crosse follow Christ. He that setteth his â—…and to the plough and looketh 〈◊〉 he that would follow him and will straight bury his father he is vnworthy of the haruest vnmeet of such a maister Hath the Deuill tempted 〈◊〉 lay hold on Christ. Heare Hierome The power of the Deuill is of no force beeing resisted by a strong faith And Augustine who saith That the Deuill can deceiue no man excepthe confidently put his trust in him 〈◊〉 thou 〈◊〉 through contention with thy brother amend thy selfe Learne of Paule to the Galathians the sixth chap. Let euery one saith he among you â—…eare the burthen of another â—…eare Tully There is nothing saith he but may bee suffered by him that perfectly loueth his neighbour I haue read in the Ecclesiasticall historie that Antipater Idumeus which was Father of Herod the great in diuers battayls receiued diuers wounds bearing such perfect loue to the Emperour his maister that he indured them patiently notwithstanding afterwards being falsely accused before the Emperour and brought vnto him not relying on his accusers complaints but guided by his owne innocencie hee spake in this sort to his Maiestie Mightie Soueraigne I will vse no great wordes for my excuse but these greene wounds which I haue suffered for your loue and aduentured in your seruice which are euidences of my deuotion towardes you and not of any doublenes let them speake for me and expresse my loue condemn my accusers commend my constancie The Emperour beeing of iudgement receyued him into grace and in stead of punishing him plagued his accusers a lesson to reconcile friendes and hauing 〈◊〉 them 〈◊〉 arme them to die well For true friendship 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 but amongst good men as Tully 〈◊〉 neyther 〈◊〉 a good man that truly trusteth in the euer liuing God euer fayle of a good end But leaue we offences towards man and cast we our eyes vp to heauen there sitteth a Sauiour who hath suffered for all our sins hath beene buffeted for our benefit hath borne the burthen to lighten vs hath beene cruciâ—…ed for our comfort hath had wounds to heale our weakenes hath suffered shame to subdue our sinne hath swet bloud to graunt vs sweet blessings hath beene plagued for our peace hath groned to end our griefe his mild hands hath been wounded for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he hath suffered for vs that did sin in his body which had no sin who endured that which we deserued and compare we our 〈◊〉 in offending him with his righteousnes in pardoning vs 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 offended him as thou canst not but sin in this flesh lift vp thy heart and be 〈◊〉 sorry then see how 〈◊〉 calleth from the heauens I am come to destroy saith he be thou therefore stedfast I wil locke the penitent man in my 〈◊〉 I will loue thee if thou but leane towards me Poure my repentance in thy lappe my brother and I will saue thee I haue compassion on thee and will gather thee though a straying lambe cal thee home tho a lost sheepe and kisse thee though a 〈◊〉 son and pray for thee in that I am thine aduocate Oh vnspeakable mercy who would not cleaue to this anchor to leaue the worlde Who would not be reconciled to this God for a litle calami tie who would not be hartily penitent for such a patron ' Phi. Oh deuine spirit in a deafe man good Celio proceede for thou comfortest my soule Ce. Trouble me not to conclude Philamis but heare thou can the pilat in the storm refuse a good 〈◊〉 can the condemned in his danger contemn his pardon vnlesse eyther the 〈◊〉 be desperat or y e other deuilish it is impossible it is inconuenient among men it is incredible how then shuld we refuse Christ when he calleth vs who through the narrow seas of death calleth vs to the hauen of heauen who would 〈◊〉 imbrace these waues thogh they embowell them kisse 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 though they ouerflowe him and blesse this deâ—…th for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Phil. I but Celio this wealth is a great foe of 〈◊〉 this is a deepe thorne as Gregory 〈◊〉 that 〈◊〉 in all 〈◊〉 to leaue rich possessions kind frends to dwell in the graue is not this a griefe Ce. What griefe Philamis what griefe can it be Barnard saith your 〈◊〉 be bayne for they 〈◊〉 Lordshippe and cause 〈◊〉 they 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 but make payment of feare And Paul writeth to Timothy they that will be rich fall into greate temptations and snares of the Deuil and into diuers 〈◊〉 desires 〈◊〉 and noysome which bring men to death and perdition are not these euen reasons enough vnto reasonable men to forsake wealth What is a rich man but the flower of the grasse A poore man in his good heart is better than a gay man with his golde ring God 〈◊〉 the hungry and sendeth the rich empty away The poore widdow in Luke was commended aboue the great rich men for 〈◊〉 is as great in a poore widowes inyte as in a rich mans Miriade Say thou 〈◊〉 riches will they not wast and are they not subiect to rust betrayed by fire But gather not riches my sonne the wealth that will perish but that which wil endure all pompe is vaine all pleasure but a shadowe seest thou not them die daily before thyne eyes and wilt thou liue to them They are the foes of men Philamis they bring traytors to thy bed worke murthers 〈◊〉 father and sonne twixt mother and daughter Oh vanitie of vanities which men call riches Art thou rich know that the things which are at fulnes must haue a fall wilt thou say vnto thy selfe come let me reioice in my possessions my barns are ful my bagges stuffet 〈◊〉 the sentence sounding in thine eare Thou foole thy soul shal be taken from thee Crates the Theban a man of great fortunes and a graue Philosopher threw great substance into the Sea and sayd thus 〈◊〉 you from me ye fruits of 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 in detayning you I drowne with you Saint 〈◊〉 alleadgeth the example of an other 〈◊〉 who 〈◊〉 a great 〈◊〉 of golde with him in hys tranaile and considering in his minde that he could not