[Ariostos seven planets governing Italie or his satyrs] [by Robert Tofte] |
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| 4. | THE FOVRTH SATYRE OF Ariosto. |
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 | [Ariostos seven planets governing Italie or his satyrs] |  |
44
THE FOVRTH SATYRE OF Ariosto.
The Argvment.
He sheweth that it is good and necessary to marry, and yet by the way glaunceth merrily at that state of life, shewing how hard a matter it is for a man to keepe his wife honest and chaste.
Written to the Lord Hanibal Malaguzzo.
I hear by strangers, friends, the world & al,
(Except thy selfe, thrise noble Hanibal)
That thou art now about to take a wife,
Knitting these worlds cares to a better life.
I not mislike that so your fancie stands;
Onely I take vnkindely at your hands,
That vnto me you would not tell your minde,
Since in my counsailes you might comfort finde.
Perhaps thou hast conceal'd it, from this Feare,
Lest I should hap t'oppose what thou hold'st deare;
Thinking because my selfe vnmarried am,
Therefore I marriage will in others blame.
If so thou censur'st me, thou dost me wrong:
For though I neuer knew what did belong,
To wedlocke: yet I neuer haue withstood,
Those which chuse marriage as their chiefest good.
Oft haue I grieu'd, and yet I sadly mourne,
That then to marry, I haue chose to burne.
My selfe excusing that I still was crost,
By hand of Fate, and so my fortunes lost:
For though vnto it I was fully bent,
Occasion still my meaning did preuent.
But this hath euer mine opinion beene,
Nor euer shall there change in me be seene:
That man cannot in perfect goodnesse stand,
Vnlesse he liue within the marriage band:
Nor without women can liue free from sinne.
For he which thrusts such guests out of his Inne,
Is either forc't to borrow of another,
Or thiefe-like without conscience robs his brother.
Besides, who vnto stranger sheetes doth cleaue,
Turnes Cormorant, and temperance doth leaue.
For if to day he feed on Larke or Quaile,
Next morne, heele haue the Phesant or the Raile:
And which is worse, he loseth sense of loue,
And that sweet touch which charity should moue.
Hence comes it, Priests of all men are the worst,
Biting like dogs, with madnesse made accurst.
The whilest no common Palliard, Baud or Slaue,
Carries more viler surfets to his graue.
Borrow of all they doe, but none they pay,
Base are their deedes, how well so ere they say.
Againe, in publique carriage and in show,
They are so voyde of iudgement, and doe goe
So farre from vertue, that I wonder much,
Women will daine but to be toucht by such.
You know tis true, who doe in Regio dwell;
But that all truths, for feare you dare not tell:
Bug-beare confession whispring in your eare,
It is damnation to tell all you heare.
Well, though you nothing say, yet from your eyes,
I reade the depth of all your mysteries,
Of stubborne Modena I speake nought at all,
Who though this great plague did vpon it fall,
Yet it deserueth to be punisht worse,
May on her and her Priests light heauens curse.
But now to you. Elect betimes your mate,
Better too soone to marrie then too late.
And since perforce thou needes this life wilt trie,
Aduenture on it most couragiously.
(Except thy selfe, thrise noble Hanibal)
That thou art now about to take a wife,
Knitting these worlds cares to a better life.
I not mislike that so your fancie stands;
Onely I take vnkindely at your hands,
That vnto me you would not tell your minde,
Since in my counsailes you might comfort finde.
Perhaps thou hast conceal'd it, from this Feare,
Lest I should hap t'oppose what thou hold'st deare;
Thinking because my selfe vnmarried am,
Therefore I marriage will in others blame.
If so thou censur'st me, thou dost me wrong:
For though I neuer knew what did belong,
To wedlocke: yet I neuer haue withstood,
Those which chuse marriage as their chiefest good.
45
That then to marry, I haue chose to burne.
My selfe excusing that I still was crost,
By hand of Fate, and so my fortunes lost:
For though vnto it I was fully bent,
Occasion still my meaning did preuent.
But this hath euer mine opinion beene,
Nor euer shall there change in me be seene:
That man cannot in perfect goodnesse stand,
Vnlesse he liue within the marriage band:
Nor without women can liue free from sinne.
For he which thrusts such guests out of his Inne,
Is either forc't to borrow of another,
Or thiefe-like without conscience robs his brother.
Besides, who vnto stranger sheetes doth cleaue,
Turnes Cormorant, and temperance doth leaue.
For if to day he feed on Larke or Quaile,
Next morne, heele haue the Phesant or the Raile:
And which is worse, he loseth sense of loue,
And that sweet touch which charity should moue.
Hence comes it, Priests of all men are the worst,
Biting like dogs, with madnesse made accurst.
The whilest no common Palliard, Baud or Slaue,
Carries more viler surfets to his graue.
Borrow of all they doe, but none they pay,
Base are their deedes, how well so ere they say.
Againe, in publique carriage and in show,
They are so voyde of iudgement, and doe goe
So farre from vertue, that I wonder much,
Women will daine but to be toucht by such.
You know tis true, who doe in Regio dwell;
But that all truths, for feare you dare not tell:
Bug-beare confession whispring in your eare,
It is damnation to tell all you heare.
Well, though you nothing say, yet from your eyes,
I reade the depth of all your mysteries,
Of stubborne Modena I speake nought at all,
Who though this great plague did vpon it fall,
46
May on her and her Priests light heauens curse.
But now to you. Elect betimes your mate,
Better too soone to marrie then too late.
And since perforce thou needes this life wilt trie,
Aduenture on it most couragiously.
Doe not as did Doctor Buon Lee old;
Who tooke a wife when all his bloud was cold:
When age had made him for a graue more fit,
Then or for wife or youthfull appetit.
Deferre not thou till age come creeping on,
Lest strength consum'd, thy body suffer wrong.
“Old ages Herbingers are snow-white haires,
“Warme drinks & cloaths are good for many years:
A cup of wine in withred Hermons head,
Is better then a faire maid in his bed:
Age with such liquors often is well eas'd,
Venus with gouts and palsies is not plea'd.
Who tooke a wife when all his bloud was cold:
When age had made him for a graue more fit,
Then or for wife or youthfull appetit.
Deferre not thou till age come creeping on,
Lest strength consum'd, thy body suffer wrong.
“Old ages Herbingers are snow-white haires,
“Warme drinks & cloaths are good for many years:
A cup of wine in withred Hermons head,
Is better then a faire maid in his bed:
Age with such liquors often is well eas'd,
Venus with gouts and palsies is not plea'd.
Faire Hymeneus is not painted old,
But youthfull, fresh, with saffron haire like gold:
The old man feeling but some sparkes of fire,
Which with much labour doth but warme desire,
Begins to rouse his ycie spirits vp,
As if he had caroust on Æsons cup:
Much he imagins he can do, when loe,
Strength doth forsake him, ere his strength he know:
And he poore soule euen in his height of pride,
Is conquer'd ere th' encounter he haue tride.
Yet so he must not thinke his wife will yeeld,
Her better spirit better ioyes the field.
“Fire with water, neuer will agree,
“Nor nature will not lose her soueraignty.
But say it were not so; yet in these dayes,
The world being rather giuen to disprayse,
Then to speake well of any, who are they,
Will marry Winter vnto youthfull May?
But they will wish Saint Lukes badge on his head,
And that in horne-bookes he be deeply read.
And thus although they merit not this blame,
Yet can they not escape all poisoning fame,
Who for the most part doth of falshoods prate,
But be it false or true, 'tis then too late
To call it home againe, if once the vent,
About the bussing busie world be sent:
And who his honour or good name doth loue,
Must patient be, for he this crosse must proue.
Yet this bad passion nothing is at all,
But that which we damn'd iealousie doe call:
Although 'tis ill enough when we behold,
An infant whom the cradle doth infold:
And two or three crope newly from the shell,
Who in their clamors do their grieuance tell.
Adde vnto these a pretty girle or twaine,
Whom thou in vertues manners seek'st to traine:
Yet hast not any whom thy soule can trust,
Will honest be to them, or to thee iust.
But rather will allure them by all meanes,
To vitious liuing, and to shamelesse straines.
Chuse wisely then, since thou dost know this curse,
And like our Gentlemen be not found worse.
Many of which buried in cloisters low,
Lie hid, whil'st grasse doth o're their graue stones grow:
On marriage their mindes did neuer set,
Because they meant not children to beget,
And so be forc't that little to disseauer,
Which scarce would serue, when t'was vnite together.
That which in strength of youth they did refuse,
Now growne in yeares most shamefully they chuse,
Shewing themselues to be so base of minde,
That euen in Borish villages they find,
And in the Kitchins greasie scullerie,
With whom to sport themselues lasciuiously.
Boyes are begot, which as in yeares they grow,
Such abiect vile behauiours from them flow,
That they are forc't to marry them perforce,
Vnto Clownes daughters, or to creatures worse;
Euen to crack't Chambermaides broke vp of late,
Because they would not haue their sonnes in state
Of bastardy: and here hence doth proceed,
That noblest houses in Ferara bleed,
With wounds of tainted honour, and with shame,
As all eyes do behold which view the same.
This is the cause the worthies of this towne,
Are seldome seene to flourish in renowne
Of vertue, or of valour, or of artes;
And hence it is their ancestors best parts,
I meane those of the worthy mothers side,
Are of their generous qualities so wide.
But youthfull, fresh, with saffron haire like gold:
The old man feeling but some sparkes of fire,
Which with much labour doth but warme desire,
Begins to rouse his ycie spirits vp,
As if he had caroust on Æsons cup:
Much he imagins he can do, when loe,
Strength doth forsake him, ere his strength he know:
And he poore soule euen in his height of pride,
Is conquer'd ere th' encounter he haue tride.
Yet so he must not thinke his wife will yeeld,
Her better spirit better ioyes the field.
“Fire with water, neuer will agree,
“Nor nature will not lose her soueraignty.
But say it were not so; yet in these dayes,
The world being rather giuen to disprayse,
Then to speake well of any, who are they,
Will marry Winter vnto youthfull May?
But they will wish Saint Lukes badge on his head,
And that in horne-bookes he be deeply read.
47
Yet can they not escape all poisoning fame,
Who for the most part doth of falshoods prate,
But be it false or true, 'tis then too late
To call it home againe, if once the vent,
About the bussing busie world be sent:
And who his honour or good name doth loue,
Must patient be, for he this crosse must proue.
Yet this bad passion nothing is at all,
But that which we damn'd iealousie doe call:
Although 'tis ill enough when we behold,
An infant whom the cradle doth infold:
And two or three crope newly from the shell,
Who in their clamors do their grieuance tell.
Adde vnto these a pretty girle or twaine,
Whom thou in vertues manners seek'st to traine:
Yet hast not any whom thy soule can trust,
Will honest be to them, or to thee iust.
But rather will allure them by all meanes,
To vitious liuing, and to shamelesse straines.
Chuse wisely then, since thou dost know this curse,
And like our Gentlemen be not found worse.
Many of which buried in cloisters low,
Lie hid, whil'st grasse doth o're their graue stones grow:
On marriage their mindes did neuer set,
Because they meant not children to beget,
And so be forc't that little to disseauer,
Which scarce would serue, when t'was vnite together.
That which in strength of youth they did refuse,
Now growne in yeares most shamefully they chuse,
Shewing themselues to be so base of minde,
That euen in Borish villages they find,
And in the Kitchins greasie scullerie,
With whom to sport themselues lasciuiously.
Boyes are begot, which as in yeares they grow,
Such abiect vile behauiours from them flow,
That they are forc't to marry them perforce,
Vnto Clownes daughters, or to creatures worse;
48
Because they would not haue their sonnes in state
Of bastardy: and here hence doth proceed,
That noblest houses in Ferara bleed,
With wounds of tainted honour, and with shame,
As all eyes do behold which view the same.
This is the cause the worthies of this towne,
Are seldome seene to flourish in renowne
Of vertue, or of valour, or of artes;
And hence it is their ancestors best parts,
I meane those of the worthy mothers side,
Are of their generous qualities so wide.
My Lord, to marry you doe passing well,
And yet attend these precepts I shall tell.
First thinke thereof, lest when you would retire,
You cannot, being slau'd vnto desire:
In this important matter, most, most great,
Although my counsaile you doe not intreat:
Yet I will shew you how a wife to chuse,
And which mongst women wise men should refuse.
But you perhaps will wondring smile at me,
And place it with impossibility,
That I this waighty charge should vndertake,
Yet neuer knew what meant the married state.
I pray you tell me; hath not your Lordship seene.
When as two gamsters haue at Tables beene:
The third man, which (as looker on) stood by,
More to haue seene in play then they could spy?
If you do finde I shoot neere to the white,
Follow my rules, and hold my iudgement right:
But if you see I roue farre off and wide,
Then both my counsailes and my selfe deride:
And yet before I further do proceede,
Tis meete that first this caution I do reed.
If you to take a wife haue strong pretence,
Yet build your ground on nought but lustfull sense,
'Twere madnesse to perswade you from her loue,
Though reasons gainst her honour I could proue.
If she doe please you, then she vertuous is,
Nor any gift of goodnesse can she misse:
No Rhethoricke, reason, nor no strength of wit,
Can make thee loath when lust rules appetit:
So much thou art besotted on her face,
That reason must to pleasure yeelde her place.
I for a wilfull blinde man am no guide,
But if in lists of wisedome thou wilt bide,
Then scholler-like examine what I say,
And I shall merite thankes another day.
And yet attend these precepts I shall tell.
First thinke thereof, lest when you would retire,
You cannot, being slau'd vnto desire:
In this important matter, most, most great,
Although my counsaile you doe not intreat:
Yet I will shew you how a wife to chuse,
And which mongst women wise men should refuse.
But you perhaps will wondring smile at me,
And place it with impossibility,
That I this waighty charge should vndertake,
Yet neuer knew what meant the married state.
I pray you tell me; hath not your Lordship seene.
When as two gamsters haue at Tables beene:
The third man, which (as looker on) stood by,
More to haue seene in play then they could spy?
If you do finde I shoot neere to the white,
Follow my rules, and hold my iudgement right:
But if you see I roue farre off and wide,
Then both my counsailes and my selfe deride:
And yet before I further do proceede,
Tis meete that first this caution I do reed.
If you to take a wife haue strong pretence,
Yet build your ground on nought but lustfull sense,
'Twere madnesse to perswade you from her loue,
Though reasons gainst her honour I could proue.
49
Nor any gift of goodnesse can she misse:
No Rhethoricke, reason, nor no strength of wit,
Can make thee loath when lust rules appetit:
So much thou art besotted on her face,
That reason must to pleasure yeelde her place.
I for a wilfull blinde man am no guide,
But if in lists of wisedome thou wilt bide,
Then scholler-like examine what I say,
And I shall merite thankes another day.
Who so thou art that meanest a wife to take,
(If of thine honour thou account dost make)
Learne what her mother is, that step begin,
And how her sisters liue, how free from sinne:
If we in horses, kine and such like creatures,
Desire to know their lineall race and natures,
What ought we then to doe in these, who are
Then other cattell, more deceitfull farre?
A Hare you neuer saw bring forth a Hart,
Nor do from Doues nests Eglets euer part.
Euen so a mother that is infamous,
Hardly can beare a daughter vertuous.
From trotting races, amblers seldome breed,
From selfe-like natures, selfe-like things proceede.
Besides the branch is like vnto the tree,
And children keepe what first they learned be,
“Ill education spoileth manners good,
“Corrupts best natures, and infects the blood.
“Home-bred examples and domesticke ils,
Grafts errors in cleane brests, & good thoughts kils.
If she perceiues her mother to possesse,
Many faire seruants, she will haue no lesse:
Nay she will more haue, or her better skill
Shall leaue to be the agent of her will:
And this she doth to shew in courtlinesse,
That (then her mother) she is nothing lesse,
And that heauen did with equall bountie place,
Within them both one beautie and one grace.
To know her nurse, and how her life she leades,
What her commercements are, and how she trades:
Whether her father brought her vp or no,
If she can play the cooke, weaue, work or sowe;
Or if in idle courts she haue remainde,
And there in song and musique hath beene trainde.
To iudge the better of her vertues, this
And all the rest to know, most needfull is.
Seeke not a wife, whose stile and noblenesse
Shall fill thy veines with much vaingloriousnesse:
Such oft their husbands vnto wrath prouoke,
Whil'st they to him are nothing else but smoke.
'Tis good to match with one that's nobly borne,
So she her husbands birth hold not in scorne.
Such one take thou, great Lord, as fit shall bee,
Both for thy liuing and thy pedigree:
For hardly thou thy better shalt content,
Vnlesse on her dependance much be spent.
A brace of Pages, seruing Gentlemen,
And for her state a flocke of Gentlewomen;
To keepe their Lady from all faults offence,
Without the which there is no patience.
Nor so content, a Dwarfe she needes must haue,
A Foole, a Pander and a iesting knaue,
With Dogs and Munkies, Parots and such toyes,
Whose idle seruice, idle time destroies:
With other company for cardes and dice,
Whose wits can sort with Courtiers that are nice:
Nor when she takes the ayre, will she forth tread,
Without her rich Caroch well furnished.
But this last charge is nothing to that cost,
Must on more priuate toyes be vainly lost:
Now if thou no such prodigall fond part,
(Who for of birth and liuing chiefe thou art
Within thy natiue home) shalt proue, then know,
The poorer sort such glories dare not show.
If hackneymen do round about the towne,
Run for to let their Coach-horse vp and downe,
What then will he do? who at his command
Hath of his owne, which euer ready stand?
If others two horse keepe, the rich will still
Haue foure at least, yet thinke the draught but ill.
With such an one thou shalt possesse more care,
Then mine Orlando in his madnesse bare.
If she should braule with thee maliciously,
Gouerne with patience her extremity.
And as Vlysses 'gainst the Syrens song,
Made himselfe deafe to shelter him from wrong;
So her expostulatings do not heare,
But 'gainst such clamorous noyse glew vp thine eare.
“When she speaks most, do thou least speech afford;
“For silence cuts a shrow worse then a sword.
“A froward wife for very spite will crie,
“When thy neglect doth scorne her tyrannie.
Haue speciall care that with no foule-mouth'd speach,
Thou mak'st into her fury any breach;
For then thou all confound'st, and one small showre
Will on thy head a world of new stormes powre;
Which with such bitternesse she will declare,
That stings of wasps not halfe so noisome are:
(If of thine honour thou account dost make)
Learne what her mother is, that step begin,
And how her sisters liue, how free from sinne:
If we in horses, kine and such like creatures,
Desire to know their lineall race and natures,
What ought we then to doe in these, who are
Then other cattell, more deceitfull farre?
A Hare you neuer saw bring forth a Hart,
Nor do from Doues nests Eglets euer part.
Euen so a mother that is infamous,
Hardly can beare a daughter vertuous.
From trotting races, amblers seldome breed,
From selfe-like natures, selfe-like things proceede.
Besides the branch is like vnto the tree,
And children keepe what first they learned be,
“Ill education spoileth manners good,
“Corrupts best natures, and infects the blood.
“Home-bred examples and domesticke ils,
Grafts errors in cleane brests, & good thoughts kils.
If she perceiues her mother to possesse,
Many faire seruants, she will haue no lesse:
Nay she will more haue, or her better skill
Shall leaue to be the agent of her will:
And this she doth to shew in courtlinesse,
That (then her mother) she is nothing lesse,
And that heauen did with equall bountie place,
Within them both one beautie and one grace.
50
What her commercements are, and how she trades:
Whether her father brought her vp or no,
If she can play the cooke, weaue, work or sowe;
Or if in idle courts she haue remainde,
And there in song and musique hath beene trainde.
To iudge the better of her vertues, this
And all the rest to know, most needfull is.
Seeke not a wife, whose stile and noblenesse
Shall fill thy veines with much vaingloriousnesse:
Such oft their husbands vnto wrath prouoke,
Whil'st they to him are nothing else but smoke.
'Tis good to match with one that's nobly borne,
So she her husbands birth hold not in scorne.
Such one take thou, great Lord, as fit shall bee,
Both for thy liuing and thy pedigree:
For hardly thou thy better shalt content,
Vnlesse on her dependance much be spent.
A brace of Pages, seruing Gentlemen,
And for her state a flocke of Gentlewomen;
To keepe their Lady from all faults offence,
Without the which there is no patience.
Nor so content, a Dwarfe she needes must haue,
A Foole, a Pander and a iesting knaue,
With Dogs and Munkies, Parots and such toyes,
Whose idle seruice, idle time destroies:
With other company for cardes and dice,
Whose wits can sort with Courtiers that are nice:
Nor when she takes the ayre, will she forth tread,
Without her rich Caroch well furnished.
But this last charge is nothing to that cost,
Must on more priuate toyes be vainly lost:
Now if thou no such prodigall fond part,
(Who for of birth and liuing chiefe thou art
Within thy natiue home) shalt proue, then know,
The poorer sort such glories dare not show.
If hackneymen do round about the towne,
Run for to let their Coach-horse vp and downe,
51
Hath of his owne, which euer ready stand?
If others two horse keepe, the rich will still
Haue foure at least, yet thinke the draught but ill.
With such an one thou shalt possesse more care,
Then mine Orlando in his madnesse bare.
If she should braule with thee maliciously,
Gouerne with patience her extremity.
And as Vlysses 'gainst the Syrens song,
Made himselfe deafe to shelter him from wrong;
So her expostulatings do not heare,
But 'gainst such clamorous noyse glew vp thine eare.
“When she speaks most, do thou least speech afford;
“For silence cuts a shrow worse then a sword.
“A froward wife for very spite will crie,
“When thy neglect doth scorne her tyrannie.
Haue speciall care that with no foule-mouth'd speach,
Thou mak'st into her fury any breach;
For then thou all confound'st, and one small showre
Will on thy head a world of new stormes powre;
Which with such bitternesse she will declare,
That stings of wasps not halfe so noisome are:
Let her as neare as arte or wit can finde,
Agree with euery humour in thy minde,
That ancient customes in thy house remaine:
And that no danger lurke within her traine,
In being greater then thou can'st support,
For things do fall to ruine in that sort.
I doe not like that beauty whose rare merit
Will praise beyond all excellence inherit;
Nor such a one whose Court audacitie,
Beares her beyond all comely modesty.
T'wixt faire and foule there is a golden meane,
Vnto which path I faine would haue you leane.
A louing maide, not louely striue to chuse;
The faces beauty for the mindes refuse.
Please thy best iudgement; 'tis no matter then,
Though she seeme foule or blacke to other men.
Her to possesse whose beauty doth exceede,
Doth to all curious eies much sorrow breede:
For she euenfrozen hearts doth set on fire,
Making men languish in vnchaste desire.
A world will venture her faire fort to spoile,
Wherein albe she giue some few the foile:
Yet at the last comes one with bribes and praies,
Who so in peeces all her forces teares,
That at the last hauing no more delay,
She yeeldes, and he her honour beares away.
A wife that's more then faire is like a stale,
Or chanting whistle which brings birds to thrall.
Yet on no sluttish foulenes fixe thy minde,
For so perpetuall penance thou shalt finde.
Beauties which are indifferent most me moue,
Faire which is still most faire I doe not loue.
Pure of complexion let her be and good,
And in her cheekes faire circled crimson blood.
Hie colours argue choler and distaste,
And such hote bloods are seldome made to waste.
Let her be milde and witty, but not curst,
Nor foolish, for of all breedes that's the worst.
None so deformed are, or vgly foule,
As fooles, which more are gaz'd at then the Owle:
For if she any fault abroad commit,
Her long-tong'd gossip straight must know of it:
Nothing so priuate can be done or said,
Which through the whole world shall not be conuaid.
Thus she her husband and her selfe doth bring,
To be a scorne to euery abiect thing:
VVhereas the witty wench so carefull is,
There's none shall know albe she doe amisse.
Like to the Cat who buries vnder ground
Her ordure, lest by men it should be found.
Agree with euery humour in thy minde,
That ancient customes in thy house remaine:
And that no danger lurke within her traine,
In being greater then thou can'st support,
For things do fall to ruine in that sort.
I doe not like that beauty whose rare merit
Will praise beyond all excellence inherit;
Nor such a one whose Court audacitie,
Beares her beyond all comely modesty.
T'wixt faire and foule there is a golden meane,
Vnto which path I faine would haue you leane.
A louing maide, not louely striue to chuse;
The faces beauty for the mindes refuse.
Please thy best iudgement; 'tis no matter then,
Though she seeme foule or blacke to other men.
52
Doth to all curious eies much sorrow breede:
For she euenfrozen hearts doth set on fire,
Making men languish in vnchaste desire.
A world will venture her faire fort to spoile,
Wherein albe she giue some few the foile:
Yet at the last comes one with bribes and praies,
Who so in peeces all her forces teares,
That at the last hauing no more delay,
She yeeldes, and he her honour beares away.
A wife that's more then faire is like a stale,
Or chanting whistle which brings birds to thrall.
Yet on no sluttish foulenes fixe thy minde,
For so perpetuall penance thou shalt finde.
Beauties which are indifferent most me moue,
Faire which is still most faire I doe not loue.
Pure of complexion let her be and good,
And in her cheekes faire circled crimson blood.
Hie colours argue choler and distaste,
And such hote bloods are seldome made to waste.
Let her be milde and witty, but not curst,
Nor foolish, for of all breedes that's the worst.
None so deformed are, or vgly foule,
As fooles, which more are gaz'd at then the Owle:
For if she any fault abroad commit,
Her long-tong'd gossip straight must know of it:
Nothing so priuate can be done or said,
Which through the whole world shall not be conuaid.
Thus she her husband and her selfe doth bring,
To be a scorne to euery abiect thing:
VVhereas the witty wench so carefull is,
There's none shall know albe she doe amisse.
Like to the Cat who buries vnder ground
Her ordure, lest by men it should be found.
Let her be pleasing, full of curtesie,
Lowly of minde, prides deadly enemie:
Pleasant of speech, seldome sad or neuer,
And let her countenance cheerefull be for euer,
A viniger tart looke or clowdy brow,
Furrow'd with wrinckles I doe not allow,
And so to pout or lowre through sullennesse,
Is a strong signe of dogged peeuishnesse.
Let her be bashfull and of modest grace,
Heare, but not answere for thee when in place
Thou art; for 'tis extreamest obloquie,
When she doth prate and thou must silent be.
No idle hous-wife let her euer be,
But alwaies doing something seriously.
Let her well loued selfe, her selfe preserue,
And from all goatish sents her skinne conserue.
Women do oft like golden tombes appeare,
Worthy without when naught within is faire.
Lowly of minde, prides deadly enemie:
Pleasant of speech, seldome sad or neuer,
And let her countenance cheerefull be for euer,
53
Furrow'd with wrinckles I doe not allow,
And so to pout or lowre through sullennesse,
Is a strong signe of dogged peeuishnesse.
Let her be bashfull and of modest grace,
Heare, but not answere for thee when in place
Thou art; for 'tis extreamest obloquie,
When she doth prate and thou must silent be.
No idle hous-wife let her euer be,
But alwaies doing something seriously.
Let her well loued selfe, her selfe preserue,
And from all goatish sents her skinne conserue.
Women do oft like golden tombes appeare,
Worthy without when naught within is faire.
Some ten or twelue yeares yonger then thou art,
Elect thy wife, for that's a wise mans part:
Because a womans glories euer faile,
Long ere the mans strength doe begin to quaile,
And so within thine eye will breede dislike,
Ere mutuall yeares thee in like weakenes strike:
Therefore I wish the husbands age should be
Thirty at least, for then th' impatiency
Of youthfull hate beginneth to asswage,
And with more moderation rules his rage.
Let her be such a one as feareth God,
Lest she approue the sting of heauens rod.
Religious, not scrupulous, and 'boue all,
Let her know none whom Puritans we call:
To run frō Church to Church through al the towne,
To weare a thin small ruffe, a bare blacke gowne,
To faine to speake like chickins when they peepe,
Or leare like cats, when they doe seeme to sleepe.
To make long praiers, and goggle vp their eyes,
As if their zeales would teare God from the skies.
To chide if any thing we say is good,
(Excepting God) as Prince, or almes, or food;
Christmas to name but Christ-tide, as it were
Damnation but the bare word masse to heare.
To speake to none that walketh in the streete,
Or with these words, God saue you, any greete:
Not to looke vp, but fixe on earth the eye,
Apparant signes are of hypocrisie.
God pleased is with plainenesse of the hart,
And not with dumbe showes of the outward part:
Such as her life, such her religion is,
Where arts and words agree not, al's amisse.
I would not that acquaintance she should haue,
With a precision Frire, for hee's a knaue,
They vnder colour of confession frame
Mischiefe, and many Matrons doe defame,
Nor shall she feast them with delicious fare,
For they but counterfeits and cheaters are:
To widdowes, wiues and maides they do remaine,
Vild, as in haruest are great showers of raine,
Let her owne beauty be her owne delight,
Without adulterate painting, red or white;
Nature hath fixt best colours to the face,
No art hath power to giue so sweet a grace.
Great paines to little purpose, and much shame,
They spend, who to adorne their bodies frame,
Do profitlesse consume whole daies away,
Let such a one not in thy fauour stay.
A golden time, a glorious world it was,
When women had no other looking-glasse
Then the cleare fountaine, and no painting knew,
But what they from the simple slicke-stone drew.
Complexion now in euery place is sold,
And plaister-wise daub'd vpon yong and old.
Olde jades must haue red bridles, and the hag
Will not in toyes behind the yongest lag.
Knew Herculan but where those lips of his,
He layeth when his Lidia he doth kisse,
He would disdaine and loth himselfe as much,
As if the loath som'st ordure he did touch.
He knowes not, did he know it he would spew,
That paintings made with spettle of a Iew:
(For they the best sell) nor that loathsome smell,
Though mixt with muske and amber ner'e so well,
Can they with all their cunning take away,
The fleame and snot so ranke in it doth stay.
Little thinkes he that with the filthy dung,
Of their small circumcised infants young,
The fat of hideous serpents, spaune of snakes,
Which slaues from out their poisonous bodies takes:
All which they doe preserue most curiously,
And mixe them in one body cunningly,
Making that vnguent, which who buyes to vse,
Buyes hell withall, and heauen doth refuse.
Fie how my queasie stomacke vp doth rise,
To thinke with what grosse stuffe in beastly wise,
They make this hatefull vomite of the face,
With which fond women seeke themselues to grace,
Daubing their cheekes in darke holes with the same,
Lest the daies eye should tell the world their shame:
But knew men which do kisse them, what I know,
They would so farre in detestation grow,
That ere they would touch maskes so foule as this,
Mensis profluuium they would gladly kisse.
Nay knew but women how they are abus'd,
By these plague-salues (so generally vs'd
Of them) and by those drugs where with they fill
Their closets, cabinets and cofers still:
They soone would finde their errours, and confesse,
'Tis they alone which makes, them beautilesse.
This curious painting when they vndertake,
True natures beauty doth the cheeke forsake:
All that is excellent away is fled,
Hating to liue with hell, being heauen-bred.
Likewise those waters which they vse with care,
To make the pearle-teeth orient and more faire,
Turnes them to rottennesse, or blacke like hell,
Whil'st from their breaths doth issue forth a smell,
More noysome then the vilest iakes can yeeld,
Or carrion that corrupts within the field.
Well, let thy wife to none of these sins cleaue,
But to the Court these rarer cunnings leaue.
Elect thy wife, for that's a wise mans part:
Because a womans glories euer faile,
Long ere the mans strength doe begin to quaile,
And so within thine eye will breede dislike,
Ere mutuall yeares thee in like weakenes strike:
Therefore I wish the husbands age should be
Thirty at least, for then th' impatiency
Of youthfull hate beginneth to asswage,
And with more moderation rules his rage.
Let her be such a one as feareth God,
Lest she approue the sting of heauens rod.
Religious, not scrupulous, and 'boue all,
Let her know none whom Puritans we call:
To run frō Church to Church through al the towne,
To weare a thin small ruffe, a bare blacke gowne,
To faine to speake like chickins when they peepe,
Or leare like cats, when they doe seeme to sleepe.
To make long praiers, and goggle vp their eyes,
As if their zeales would teare God from the skies.
To chide if any thing we say is good,
(Excepting God) as Prince, or almes, or food;
Christmas to name but Christ-tide, as it were
Damnation but the bare word masse to heare.
54
Or with these words, God saue you, any greete:
Not to looke vp, but fixe on earth the eye,
Apparant signes are of hypocrisie.
God pleased is with plainenesse of the hart,
And not with dumbe showes of the outward part:
Such as her life, such her religion is,
Where arts and words agree not, al's amisse.
I would not that acquaintance she should haue,
With a precision Frire, for hee's a knaue,
They vnder colour of confession frame
Mischiefe, and many Matrons doe defame,
Nor shall she feast them with delicious fare,
For they but counterfeits and cheaters are:
To widdowes, wiues and maides they do remaine,
Vild, as in haruest are great showers of raine,
Let her owne beauty be her owne delight,
Without adulterate painting, red or white;
Nature hath fixt best colours to the face,
No art hath power to giue so sweet a grace.
Great paines to little purpose, and much shame,
They spend, who to adorne their bodies frame,
Do profitlesse consume whole daies away,
Let such a one not in thy fauour stay.
A golden time, a glorious world it was,
When women had no other looking-glasse
Then the cleare fountaine, and no painting knew,
But what they from the simple slicke-stone drew.
Complexion now in euery place is sold,
And plaister-wise daub'd vpon yong and old.
Olde jades must haue red bridles, and the hag
Will not in toyes behind the yongest lag.
Knew Herculan but where those lips of his,
He layeth when his Lidia he doth kisse,
He would disdaine and loth himselfe as much,
As if the loath som'st ordure he did touch.
He knowes not, did he know it he would spew,
That paintings made with spettle of a Iew:
55
Though mixt with muske and amber ner'e so well,
Can they with all their cunning take away,
The fleame and snot so ranke in it doth stay.
Little thinkes he that with the filthy dung,
Of their small circumcised infants young,
The fat of hideous serpents, spaune of snakes,
Which slaues from out their poisonous bodies takes:
All which they doe preserue most curiously,
And mixe them in one body cunningly,
Making that vnguent, which who buyes to vse,
Buyes hell withall, and heauen doth refuse.
Fie how my queasie stomacke vp doth rise,
To thinke with what grosse stuffe in beastly wise,
They make this hatefull vomite of the face,
With which fond women seeke themselues to grace,
Daubing their cheekes in darke holes with the same,
Lest the daies eye should tell the world their shame:
But knew men which do kisse them, what I know,
They would so farre in detestation grow,
That ere they would touch maskes so foule as this,
Mensis profluuium they would gladly kisse.
Nay knew but women how they are abus'd,
By these plague-salues (so generally vs'd
Of them) and by those drugs where with they fill
Their closets, cabinets and cofers still:
They soone would finde their errours, and confesse,
'Tis they alone which makes, them beautilesse.
This curious painting when they vndertake,
True natures beauty doth the cheeke forsake:
All that is excellent away is fled,
Hating to liue with hell, being heauen-bred.
Likewise those waters which they vse with care,
To make the pearle-teeth orient and more faire,
Turnes them to rottennesse, or blacke like hell,
Whil'st from their breaths doth issue forth a smell,
More noysome then the vilest iakes can yeeld,
Or carrion that corrupts within the field.
56
But to the Court these rarer cunnings leaue.
Let her apparell be in comly fashion,
And not straguized after euery nation.
Head-tires in shape like to a Corronet,
With pearle, with stone, and iewels richly set,
Befits a Princesse right; a veluet hood,
With golden border, for thy wife's as good.
The Loome, the Needle and fine Cookery,
Doth not disparage true gentility.
Nor shall it be amisse, if when thou art,
Within thy Country home, thy wife impart.
Her house-wifely condition, and suruay
Her Dayrie and her milke-pans once a day.
The greatest states in these daies will respect
Their profits, when their honours they neglect.
But her cheefe care shall on thy children be,
To bring them vp in each good quality.
And thus, if such a wife thou can'st attaine,
I see no reason why thou should'st refraine.
For say that afterward her minde should change,
And from corrupter thoughts desire to range:
Or that she seekes to scandalize her house
With blacke disdaine, or shame most impious,
If in her haruest yeares thou com'st to mow,
And find'st where corne was, nought but weedes do grow:
Yet thou thy selfe as faulty, can'st not blame,
But spitefull Fate, the Author of defame:
And that her infancy was misgouerned,
And not in vertue truely nurtered.
Thou can'st but sory be for her offence,
When want of grace doth draw on impudence.
But he that like a blinde man doth run on,
And takes the first his fortunes fall vpon,
Or he that worse doth (as doth basest he)
Who though he know her most vnchaste to be:
Yet he will haue her in dispite of all,
Euen though the world him hatefull wittall call:
If after sad repentance him importune,
Let him accuse himselfe for his misfortune:
Nor let him thinke any will moane his case,
Since his owne folly bred his owne disgrace.
And not straguized after euery nation.
Head-tires in shape like to a Corronet,
With pearle, with stone, and iewels richly set,
Befits a Princesse right; a veluet hood,
With golden border, for thy wife's as good.
The Loome, the Needle and fine Cookery,
Doth not disparage true gentility.
Nor shall it be amisse, if when thou art,
Within thy Country home, thy wife impart.
Her house-wifely condition, and suruay
Her Dayrie and her milke-pans once a day.
The greatest states in these daies will respect
Their profits, when their honours they neglect.
But her cheefe care shall on thy children be,
To bring them vp in each good quality.
And thus, if such a wife thou can'st attaine,
I see no reason why thou should'st refraine.
For say that afterward her minde should change,
And from corrupter thoughts desire to range:
Or that she seekes to scandalize her house
With blacke disdaine, or shame most impious,
If in her haruest yeares thou com'st to mow,
And find'st where corne was, nought but weedes do grow:
Yet thou thy selfe as faulty, can'st not blame,
But spitefull Fate, the Author of defame:
And that her infancy was misgouerned,
And not in vertue truely nurtered.
Thou can'st but sory be for her offence,
When want of grace doth draw on impudence.
But he that like a blinde man doth run on,
And takes the first his fortunes fall vpon,
Or he that worse doth (as doth basest he)
Who though he know her most vnchaste to be:
Yet he will haue her in dispite of all,
Euen though the world him hatefull wittall call:
57
Let him accuse himselfe for his misfortune:
Nor let him thinke any will moane his case,
Since his owne folly bred his owne disgrace.
But now since I haue taught thee how to get,
Thy best of choyce, and thee on horsebacke set,
Ile learne thee how to ride her: wild or tame,
To curbe her when, and when to raine the same:
Thy best of choyce, and thee on horsebacke set,
Ile learne thee how to ride her: wild or tame,
To curbe her when, and when to raine the same:
No sooner thou shalt take to thee a wife,
But thou shalt leaue the old haunts of thy life,
Keepe thine owne nest, lest some strange Bird lie hid,
And doe by thee as thou by others did.
But thou shalt leaue the old haunts of thy life,
Keepe thine owne nest, lest some strange Bird lie hid,
And doe by thee as thou by others did.
Like a true Turtle with thine owne Doue stay,
Else others 'twixt thy sheetes may falsly play.
Esteeme her deare, and loue her as thy life,
No matchlesse treasure like a loyall wife.
If thou-wilt haue her like and honour thee,
First let her thine affections amply see:
What shee doth for thee, kindly that respect,
And shew how thy loue doth her loue affect.
If by omission shee doe ought amisse,
In any thing that gainst thy nature is:
Else others 'twixt thy sheetes may falsly play.
Esteeme her deare, and loue her as thy life,
No matchlesse treasure like a loyall wife.
If thou-wilt haue her like and honour thee,
First let her thine affections amply see:
What shee doth for thee, kindly that respect,
And shew how thy loue doth her loue affect.
If by omission shee doe ought amisse,
In any thing that gainst thy nature is:
With loue and not with furie let her know,
Her errors ground, for thence amendments grow.
A gentle hand, A Colt doth sooner tame,
Then chaines or fetters which doe make him lame.
Spaniels with stroking we doe gentle find,
Sooner then when they coopled are or pinde.
These kind of Cattell gentler then the rest,
Without the vse of rigor doe the best.
Good natures by good vsage best doe proue,
Disdaine breedes hate, tis loue ingenders loue.
But that like Asses they should beaten be,
Neither with sense nor reason doth agree:
For where loues art auailes not, there I feare,
Stroakes will more bootlesse and more vile appeare.
Many will boast what wonders they haue wrought
By blowes, and how their wishes they haue caught.
How they haue tam'd their shrewes and puld them down,
Making thē vaile euen to the smallest frown.
But let those giants which such boastings loue,
Tell me what they haue got, and it will proue,
Their wiues their blowes on hands & face do beare,
And they their wiues markes on their foreheads weare.
Besides who least a wicked wife can tame,
Doth oftest brag that he can do the same.
Remember she is neighbour to thy heart,
And not thy slaue; she is thy better part.
Thinke 'tis enough that her thou maist command,
And that she doth in loue-knots loyall stand;
Although thy power thou neuer doe approue,
For that's the way to make her leaue to loue.
Giue her all wishes whilest she doth desire,
Nothing but that which reason doth acquire.
And when thou hast confirm'd thee in her loue,
Preserue it safe, let nothing it remoue.
And yet to suffer her do all she will,
Without thy knowledge, may much vertue kill.
So likewise to mistrust without all reason,
To perfit loue is more then open treason.
To go to feasts and weddings 'mongst the best,
Is not amisse: for there suspect is least.
Nor is it meete, that she the Church refraine,
Sith there is vertue, and her noble traine.
In publique markets and in company,
Is neuer found adulterous villany.
But in thy gossips or thy neighbours house,
And therefore hold such places dangerous.
Yet as deuotion to the Church her leades,
Thou shalt do wel to marke which way she treades:
For oftentimes the goodly prey is still
The cause why men do steale against their will.
Chiefly take heed, what consort she liues in,
Beware of Wolues that weare the Weathers skin.
Marke what resort within thy house doth moue,
Many kisse children for the nurses loue.
Some for thy wiues sake much will honour thee,
Do not with such men hold society.
When shee's abroad, thy feare is of small worth,
The danger's in the house when thou art forth.
Yet wisely watch her, lest she do espie
Thy politicke and waking ielousie.
Which it she do, then is her reason strong,
Thee to accuse, that dost her causelesse wrong.
Remoue all causes what so er'e they be,
Which to her name may couple infamy.
And if shee needes will cast away all shame,
Yet let the world know thou art not to blame.
I know no other rules to set thee downe,
How thou maist keepe vnstaind thy wiues renowne.
Nor how thou maist keepe men from hauing power,
Thy wiues chaste honours basely to deuoure.
And yet I'le tell thee this, if she haue will
To tread awry, thou must not thinke through skill
To mend her, for she is past all recure,
And what she will do thou must needes indure.
Do what thou can'st by art or obseruation,
She will create thee of a forked fashion.
Al's one if thou doe vse her ill or well,
When women are resolu'd, spite heauen or hell
They will strike saile, and with lasciuious breath,
Bid all men welcome, though it be their death.
And for you shall not iustly thinke I lie,
Lend but your eare to this true historie.
Her errors ground, for thence amendments grow.
A gentle hand, A Colt doth sooner tame,
Then chaines or fetters which doe make him lame.
Spaniels with stroking we doe gentle find,
Sooner then when they coopled are or pinde.
These kind of Cattell gentler then the rest,
Without the vse of rigor doe the best.
Good natures by good vsage best doe proue,
Disdaine breedes hate, tis loue ingenders loue.
But that like Asses they should beaten be,
Neither with sense nor reason doth agree:
For where loues art auailes not, there I feare,
Stroakes will more bootlesse and more vile appeare.
Many will boast what wonders they haue wrought
By blowes, and how their wishes they haue caught.
58
Making thē vaile euen to the smallest frown.
But let those giants which such boastings loue,
Tell me what they haue got, and it will proue,
Their wiues their blowes on hands & face do beare,
And they their wiues markes on their foreheads weare.
Besides who least a wicked wife can tame,
Doth oftest brag that he can do the same.
Remember she is neighbour to thy heart,
And not thy slaue; she is thy better part.
Thinke 'tis enough that her thou maist command,
And that she doth in loue-knots loyall stand;
Although thy power thou neuer doe approue,
For that's the way to make her leaue to loue.
Giue her all wishes whilest she doth desire,
Nothing but that which reason doth acquire.
And when thou hast confirm'd thee in her loue,
Preserue it safe, let nothing it remoue.
And yet to suffer her do all she will,
Without thy knowledge, may much vertue kill.
So likewise to mistrust without all reason,
To perfit loue is more then open treason.
To go to feasts and weddings 'mongst the best,
Is not amisse: for there suspect is least.
Nor is it meete, that she the Church refraine,
Sith there is vertue, and her noble traine.
In publique markets and in company,
Is neuer found adulterous villany.
But in thy gossips or thy neighbours house,
And therefore hold such places dangerous.
Yet as deuotion to the Church her leades,
Thou shalt do wel to marke which way she treades:
For oftentimes the goodly prey is still
The cause why men do steale against their will.
Chiefly take heed, what consort she liues in,
Beware of Wolues that weare the Weathers skin.
Marke what resort within thy house doth moue,
Many kisse children for the nurses loue.
59
Do not with such men hold society.
When shee's abroad, thy feare is of small worth,
The danger's in the house when thou art forth.
Yet wisely watch her, lest she do espie
Thy politicke and waking ielousie.
Which it she do, then is her reason strong,
Thee to accuse, that dost her causelesse wrong.
Remoue all causes what so er'e they be,
Which to her name may couple infamy.
And if shee needes will cast away all shame,
Yet let the world know thou art not to blame.
I know no other rules to set thee downe,
How thou maist keepe vnstaind thy wiues renowne.
Nor how thou maist keepe men from hauing power,
Thy wiues chaste honours basely to deuoure.
And yet I'le tell thee this, if she haue will
To tread awry, thou must not thinke through skill
To mend her, for she is past all recure,
60
Do what thou can'st by art or obseruation,
She will create thee of a forked fashion.
Al's one if thou doe vse her ill or well,
When women are resolu'd, spite heauen or hell
They will strike saile, and with lasciuious breath,
Bid all men welcome, though it be their death.
And for you shall not iustly thinke I lie,
Lend but your eare to this true historie.
A Tale.
There was a Painter whom I cannot name,That vsed much to picture out the Diuell,
With face and eyes fit for a louely dame:
No clouen feet, nor hornes, nor any euill.
So faire he made him, and so formally,
As whitest snow, or purest Iuory.
The diuell who thought it very great disgrace,
The Painter should ore'come in curtesie,
Appear'd to him in sleepe face to face,
Declared what he was in breuity:
And that he came but onely to requite,
His paines in painting him so faire and white.
And therefore wil'd him aske what so he would,
Assuring him to haue his whole request.
The wretch who had a wife of heauenly mould,
Whose beauty brought his iealous braines vnrest,
Intreated for the ending of that strife,
Some meanes to be assured of his wife.
Then seem'd the diuell to take a goodly ring,
And put it on his finger, saying this;
So long as thou shalt weare this pretty thing,
Thou maist be sure she cannot do amisse.
But if thou vse to leaue this ring vnworn,
Nor man nor diuell can keepe thee from the horne.
Glad was this man, and with his gladnesse waked,
But scarcely had he opened both his eyes,
Before he felt his wife starke belly naked:
And found his finger hid betweene her thighes.
Remembring then his dreame how it concluded,
He thought the diuell had him in sleepe deluded.
61
If so we meane our wiues shall be no flingers,
There is no such deuice, nor old nor new,
As still to weare such rings vpon our fingers:
For else though all our haires were watchful eies,
We should not see their subtill treacheries.
Nor can this policy scarce vs auaile,
For if she meaneth Chaucers least to try,
She to another will her loue entaile,
Although she knew she for the same should die.
The slie Venetian lockt his Ladies ware,
Yet through her wit Acteons badge he bare.
My Lord, few married men do liue content,
Their wiues as crosses vnto them are sent:
So must I say the single life is ill,
Sith in the same dwels many troubles still.
Yet better tis in Purgatory dwell
A little space, then alwayes liue in hell.
What my best strength of reasons are you see,
And therefore your owne caruer you may be.
T'is all but one resolue, who e're is borne
To marry, likewise must possesse the horne.
Yet I but merrily do write and iest;
The married mans estate of all is best:
And they who cannot chastly leade their liues,
May in the world finde many worthy wiues.
One of the best of which I wish to you,
One that is louing, loyall, wise and true.
| [Ariostos seven planets governing Italie or his satyrs] | |