Elizabeth Grymeston.

Non est rectum, quod à Deo non est directum.

Printed by Melch.Melchior Bradwood
for Felix Norton.

A1v A2r

To the Right worshipfull his singular good Lady, the Lady Elizabeth Grimeston.

Most vertuous Ladie, having in charge from you to get you the choisest of my late departed Mistresse hir Musicke Lessons: I found among them these Lessons of Mortification, which copying out at first for my private use, I afterwards communicated to some of my friends, who out of their liking of them, committed them to the presse: whither by great fortune I chanced to come, and knowing that I had wronged the Authour both in mistaking some things which I did not understand, and misplacing other things which I could not well reade; I could not chuse but make a publicke acknowledgement, that what faults soever are committed in them, are caused by my unskilfulnesse. And knowing that the publishing of them will be some discontent to my late Master, your dearest brother, I could finde no fitter Mediatour than your A2 selfe, A2v selfe to pacifie his anger, neither any so woorthie as you to patronize this booke: for that as you are the same in name with the Authour, so are you in all points of vertue and true nobilitie superiour to any whom my meanes affoorded me to make bolde withall for so great a favor. Vouchsafe therefore, most worthy Lady, the patronage of these my willing unwilling errors, and you shall binde me for ever to remaine in all your emploiments,

Your worships at command

William Smith.


To her loving sonne Bernye Grymeston.

My dearest sonne, there is nothing so strong as the force of love; there is no love so forcible as the love of an affectionate mother to hir naturall childe: there is no mother can either more affectionately shew hir nature, or more naturally manifest hir affection, than in advising hir children out of hir owne experience, to eschue evill, and encline them to do that which is good. Out of these resolutions, finding the libertie of this age to be such, as that quicquid libet licet, so men keepe themselves from criminall offences; and my mothers undeserved wrath so virulent, as that I have neither power to resist it, nor patience to endure it, but must yeeld to this languishing consumption to which it hath brougt me: I resolved to breake the barren soile of my fruitlesse braine, to dictate something for thy direction; the rather for that as I am now a dead woman among the living, so stand I doubtfull of thy fathers life; which albeit God hath preser ved from eight severall sinister assaults, by which it hath beene sought; yet for that I see that Quem sæpè transit casus, aliquando inuenit, I leave thee this portable veni mecum for thy Counseller, in which thou maiest A3 see A3v see the true portrature of thy mothers minde, and finde something either to resolve thee in thy doubts, or comfort thee in thy distresse; hoping, that being my last speeches, they will be better kept in the conservance of thy memorie; which I desire thou wilt make a Register of heavenly meditations.

For albeit, if thou provest learned (as my trust is thou wilt; for that without learning man is but as an immortall beast) thou maiest happily thinke that if every Philosopher fetched his sentence, these leaves would be left without lines; yet remember withall, that as it is the best coine that is of greatest value in fewest pieces, so is it not the worst booke that hath most matter in least words. The gravest wits, that most grave works expect,The qualitie, not quantitie, respect. And the spiders webbe is neither the better because woven out of his owne brest, nor the bees hony the worse, for that gathered out of many flowers; neither could I ever brooke to set downe that haltingly in my broken stile, which I found better expressed by a graver authour. God send thee too, to be a wits Camelion,That any authours colour can put on.

I have prayed for thee, that thou mightest be fortunate in two houres of thy life time: In the houre of thy mariage, and at the houre of thy death. Marrie in thine owne ranke, and seeke especially in it thy contentment and preferment: let her neither be so beautifull, as that every liking eye shall levell at her; nor yet so browne, as to bring thee to a loathed bed. Deferre not thy marriage till thou commest to be saluted with a God speed you Sir, as a man going out of the world after fortie; neither yet to the time A4r time of God keepe you Sir, whilest thou art in thy best strength after thirtie; but marrie in the time of You are welcome Sir, when thou art comming into the world. For seldome shalt thou see a woman out of hir owne love to pull a rose that is full blowen, deeming them alwaies sweetest at the first opening of the budde. It was Phœdra hir confession to Hippolitus, and it holdes for trueth with the most: Thesei vultus amo illos priores quos tulit quondam iuuenis. Let thy life be formall, that thy death may be fortunate: for he seldome dies well that liveth ill. To this purpose, as thou hast within thee Reason as thy Counseller to perswade or disswade thee, and thy Will as an absolute Prince with a Fiat vel Euitetur, with a Let it be done or neglected; yet make thy conscience thy Censor morum, and chiefe commander in thy little world: let it call Reason to account whether she have subjected hir selfe against reason to sensuall appetites. Let thy Will be censured, whether hir desires have beene chaste, or as a harlot she have lusted after hir owne delights. Let thy thoughts be examined. If they be good, they are of the spirit (quench not the spirit) if bad, forbid them entrance; for once admitted, they straightwaies fortifie; and are expelled with more difficultie, than not admitted. Crush the serpent in the head,Breake ill egges yer they be hatched.Kill bad chickens in the tread,Fledge they hardly can be catched.In the rising stifle ill,Lest it grow against thy will. For evill thoughts are the Divels harbingers; he never resteth, but where they provide his entertainment. These A4 are A4v are those little ones whose braines thou must dash out against the rocke of true judgement: for As a false Lover that thicke snares hath laied,T’intrap the honour of a faire yoong maid,When she (though little) listning eare affoordsTo his sweet, courting, deepe affected words,Feeles some asswaging of his freezing flame,And sooths himselfe with hope to gain his game,And rapt with joy, upon this point persists,That parleing citie never long resists:Even so the serpent that doth countersetA guilefull call t’allure us to his net,Perceiving us his flattering gloze disgest,He prosecutes, and jocund doth not rest,Till he have tri’d foot, hand, and head, and all,Upon the breach of this new battered wall.

I could be content to dwell with thee in this argument: But I must confine my selfe to the limits of an epistle, Quæ non debet implere sinistram manum. To which rule I doe the more willingly submit my selfe, for that the discourses following are motives to the same effect: which I pray thee use to peruse, even in that my affectionate love, which diffused amongst nine children which God did lend me, is now united in thee, whom God hath onely left for my comfort. And because God hath indued thee with so violent a spirit, as that quicquid vis valdè vis; therefore by so much the more it behoveth thee to deliberate what thou undertakest: to which purpose my desire is, that thou mightest be seasoned with these precepts in thy youth, that the practise of thy age may have a taste of them. And because that it is incident to quicke spirits to commit rash attempts:tempts: B1r tempts: as ever the love of a mother may challenge the performance of her demand of a dutifull childe; be a bridle to thy selfe, to restraine thee from doing that which indeed thou maiest doe: that thou maiest the better forbeare that which in trueth thou oughtest not to doe; for haud citò progreditur ad maiora peccata, qui parua reformidat; hee seldomest commits deadly sinne, that makes a conscience of a veniall scandall.

Thou seest my love hath carried me beyond the list I resolved on, and my aking head and trembling hand have rather a will to offer, than abilitie to affoord further discourse. Wherefore with as many good wishes to thee, as good will can measure, I abruptly end, desiring God to blesse thee with sorrow for thy sinnes, thankefulenesse for his benefits, feare of his judgements, love of his mercies, mindfulnesse of his presence; that living in his feare, thou maiest die in his favour, rest in his peace, rise in his power, remaine in his glorie for ever and ever.

Thine assured loving mother

Elizabeth Grymeston.

En Ma Foy Je Sufre Tout.
B Simon B1v

Simon Grahame to the Authour.

Goe famous thou, with ever flying fame,

That mak’st thy flight on Vertues wings to sore,

In worlds of hearts goe labyrinth thy name,

That wonders selfe may wondrous thee adore.

Though th’ authours selfe triumph in heavenly glore,

Thou sacred worke givst mortall life againe;

And so thy worth hath made her evermore

In heaven and earth for ever to remaine.

Hir pondrous speech, hir passion and hir paine,

Hir pleasing stile shall be admir’d ilke where.

The fruitfull flowing of hir loftie braine

Doth now bewray a mothers matchlesse care,

While she lives crown’d amongst the high divines,

Thou on hir sonne celestiall sunne downe shines.

Tota vita dies unus.

Chap. I.

A short line how to levell your life.

When thou risest, let thy thoughts ascend, that grace may descend: and if thou canst not weepe for thy sinnes, then weepe, because thou canst not weepe.

Remember that Prayer is the wing wherewith thy soule flieth to heaven; and Meditation the eye wherewith we see God; and Repentance the Supersedeas that dischargeth all bond of sinne.

Let thy sacrifice be an innocent heart: offer it dayly at set houres, with that devotion that well it may shew, thou both knowest and acknowledgest his greatnesse before whom thou art. So carrie thy selfe as woorthie of his presence.

Where thou owest, pay duetie: where thou findest, returne curtesie: where thou art knowen, deserve love. Desire the best: disdaine none, but evill companie. Grieve, but be not angrie at discourtesies. Redresse, but revenge no wrongs. Yet so remember pitie, as you forget not decencie.

Let your attire be such, as may satisfie a curious eye; and yet beare witnesse of a sober minde.

Arme your selfe with that modestie, that may silence B2 that B2v that untemperate tongue, and controll that unchaste eye, that shall aime at passion.

Be mindfull of things past; Carefull of things present; Provident of things to come.

Goe as you would be met.

Sit as you would be found.

Speake as you would be heard: And when you goe to bed, read over the carriage of your selfe that day. Reforme that is amisse; and give God thanks for that which is orderly: and so commit thy selfe to him that keepes thee.

Teach me O Lord to number my daies, and to order my life after this thy direction.

Chap. II.

A mortified mans melancholy expressed in the person of Heraclitus, who alwaies wept.

Let him that laughes come weepe with me: for that which mirth neglects, teares doe learne: It is the afflicted minde that is the touchstone of faults committed: and the guilt which securitie overseeth, a troubled minde doth soone discover. A dolefull case desires a dolefull songWithout vaine Art or curious complement;And squallid fortune into basenesse flungDoth scorne the pride of woonted ornament.

Be sorie that thou canst not sorrow thou that art begot in filthinesse, nourished in darknesse, brought foorth in pangs of death; thou whose infancie is a dreame; whose youth a frensie; whose manhood a combate; whose age a sicknesse; whose life miserie; whose death horror.

Thinke, B3r

Thinke, ô thinke, and bethinke thy selfe, from whence thou camest, where thou art, and whither thou goest, for thou art here in an obscure land, governed by the prince of darkenesse, where vice is advaunced, vertue scorned, where pleasures are few, paines infinite: where want is miserable, plenty full of perill: in a vale of teares, environed on all sides with unplacable adversaries: where if thou subdue lust, covetousnesse assaults thee; if covetousnesse be vanquished, ambition will second hir; if ambition be surprised, anger succeeds: in a world of mischiefe, where envy breaketh peace, jealousie sundreth friendship. A wretched world, the den of wretchednesse,Deform’d with filth and foule iniquitie,A wretched world, the house of heavinesse,Fild with the wreaks of mortall miserie.O wretched world, and all that is therein,The vassals of Gods wrath, and slaves to sinne.

Thou hast a silly, poore, yet powerfull soule, a soule of noble substance, of exceeding beautie, inspired by God the Father; redeemed by God the Sonne; sanctified by God the holy Ghost: this is the careful charge committed to thy charge to keepe hir. Where wilt thou finde security for hir, Which did in former time Gods image beare?And was at first, faire, good, and spotlesse pure.But since with sinnes her beauties blotted weare,Doth of all sights hir owne sight least indure.

But now exiled from hir-selfe, and as a widow deprived of hir espoused fellowship, committed to thy safe conduct, where wilt thou secure hir? in heaven the angels fell in Gods presence: in paradice Adam fell from a place of pleasure; in the world Judas fell in the schoole of Christ: and if thou sufferest hir to fall, she fals to eternall perdition, for the sword of Gods justice hangeth alwaies over our soules readie for our sinnes to divide us from eternall blisse. Since harvest never failes, but ever must,Be torturd with the racke of his owne frame:B3ForB3vFor he that holds no faith, shall finde no trust,But sowing wrong, is sure to reape Gods blame.

Let the foote of him that sits upon the rainbow be thy arke of securitie in this deluge of miseries; be not like the uncleane Crow, that can finde footing on every carion, with little care to returne againe: but rather imitate the innocent Dove, that lothing abode without this arke, can finde no rest; and with the wings of a longing desire and penitent heart, flicker at the window of this arke, till thy heavenly Noah put out his mercifull hand to take thee in. For when the soule findes here no true content,And like Noahs Dove can no sure footing take:She doth returne from whence she first was sent,And flies to him that first hir wings did make.

Let hir not drinke of the fluds of the vanities of this life, but as the dogs doe of the river Nilus, that drinke running, least while they stay to take a full draught, they be stung with scorpions: for she lives in thy bodie no otherwise than as a lazar on his death bed, uncertaine of life, but in apparent danger of endlesse death; within she makes her solace full of sadnesse: hir hope full of hazard, and all hir waies strowed with Coccatrice egges, faire without, and foule within, make hir carefull of hir steps. Thou hast the example of Christ: which way wilt thou goe? he is the Way: whither wilt thou goe? he is the Trueth: where wilt thou stay? he is the Life. If this Way lead thee thorow austere passages; if this Trueth teach thee true contrition: if this Life be not atchieved but with a dolefull pilgrimage; for where doest thou reade that Christ laughed? then Woe be to you that laugh, for you shall mourne: and happy are you that lament, for you shall be comforted.

Chap. B4r

Chap. III.

A patheticall speech of the person of Dives in the torments of hell.

O Death, how sudden was thy arrest unto me? how unexpected? while my bodie was strong, while my intrals were full of fat, and my bones were watered with marrow; while I had rest in my substance, and peace in my riches; in one night my soule was taken from me, and all my joy was turned into mourning. Like as the sacred oxe that carelesse stands,With gilded hornes, and flowrie garlands crownd,Proud of his dying honour and deare bands,Whilst theaters fume with frankensence around:All suddenly with mortall blow astond,Doth groveling fall, and with his steeming gore,Distaine the pillars and the holy ground,And the faire flowers that decked him afore,So downe I fell on wordlesse precious shore.

I saw my friends forsake me in a moment: I felt how hard a thing it was to sever two such old acquaintances as my soule and bodie: I wanted no view of the vanities wherein I had delighted. On the one side hung a register of my sinnes committed; on the other side lay a catalogue of good deeds omitted: within me boiled my conscience confessing and accusing me: Before me stood the judgements of God denounced against sinne so mustered in ranke, as I might well perceive my dangers were certaine, and destruction imminent. In this extasie while I desired but one houres delay, I was caried with a motion Torrenti simili, as swift as the torrent before the tribunall seat of God.

Under whose feet, subjected to his grace, Sat Nature, Fortune, Motion, Tyme and Place. B4 To B4v

To this tribunall seate attended me my evill works, where Christ shewing himselfe, laid open unto me the benefits he had bestowed upon me, the rewards he promised me, the torments he suffred for me; all which the divell confessing, concluded me to be his; for that though he never loved me, yet I served him, though hee never gratified me, yet I obeied him, without wooing he wan me, performing what he suggested, embracing what he preferred, affecting everie thing he cast in my way, all which my conscience acknowledging, censured me to this bottomlesse depth, to this profound lake, to this sinke of the world, whither all the afflictions and unpleasant things in the world draine and unite themselves to take revenge of sinne. A deadly gulfe where nought but rubbish growes,Which up in th’ aire such stinking vapour throwes,That over there may flie no bird but dies,Chok’t with the pestilent favours that arise.

To this Chaos of confusion, to this Well of perdition wherein I am coarcted, to this burning lake of fire and brimstone wherein I lie burning, but not consuming; lamenting, but not pitied; where I vomit out the riches which I devoured; in paine, without ease; in torture without intermission; where my lascivious eies are afflicted with most ugly and fearefull sights of griesely divels; my eares that once were delicate, are laden now with the hideous noise of damned spirits; my nose that once was daintie, is cloied with the stinke of unsupportable filth; my taste that sometimes was curious, and surfeited with plentie, is now tormented with want; my imagination is vexed with apprehension of paines present; my memory grieved with the losse of pleasures past; my understanding affected with the consideration of felicitie lost, and miserie found. Thus comparing senses pleasure with incumbent joy, I finde my joies abortive, perisht ere they bud, my paines everlasting, during beyond eternitie. Your C1r Your fond preferments are but childrens toyes.And as a shadow all your pleasures passe.As yeeres increase, so wauning are your joyes.Your blesse is brittle, like a broken glasse,Or as a tale of that which never was.

Wherefore as one past cure, dejected beyond hope of redemption into endlesse perdition, rather condoling my misfortune, than expostulating my mishap whereof my selfe was authour, I call to you, the glory of your age, the meat of time, who proud in your errours, tread the path of worldly pleasures, wherein I was impathed: Frustra, ô frustra hæc aliò properanti. What in this life we have or can desire,Hath time of growth, and moment of retire.So feeble is mans state as sure it will not stand,Till it disordered be from earthly band.

It was a condition annexed to our Creation: Intrasti ut exires, thou wert borne to die. Nothing more sure than thy dissolution: no time more uncertaine than thy time of separation. Be alwaies readie to prevent that enemie, that is alwaies in readinesse to take advantage. Qui non vult in vita præuidere mortem, non potest in morte videre vitam. Who while he lives will not prevent eternall death, shall never after death inherit eternall life.

Let every one do all the good he can: For never commeth ill of doing well. Though just reward it wants here now and than, Yet shame and evill death it doth expell. Miser chi mal oprando, si confida, Ch’ogn’horstar debba in maleficio occulto: Che quand’ogn’altro taccia intorne grida, L’aria la terra e’l luggo in ch’e sepolto. E dio sa speffo ch’il peccato grida Il peccator, poi ch’alcun di gli ha indulto, Che se medesimo, seuza altruj rechiesta, Inavedutamente manifesta. C Wretched C1v Wretched is he that thinks by doing ill, His evill deeds long to conceale and hide: For though the voice and tongues of men be still, By fowles and beasts his sin shalbe descride. And God oft worketh by his secret will, That sinne it selfe the sinner so doth guide, That of his owne accord, without request, He makes his wicked doings manifest. Shame followes sinne never so closely done: Shame alwayes ends, what wickenesse begun.

Hoc est momentum temporis unde pendet æternitas. The carriage of thy selfe in this life, is the beame whereof thy welfare for ever dependeth. Deferre not thy amendment: God is best when soonest wrought,Lingring thoughts do come to nought.O suffer not delay to steale the treasure of that day,Whose smallest minute lost, no riches render may.

Turpe est eo statu vivere, in quo non statuas mori. In vaine thou livest in that estate of life, in which thou meanest not to die. Make, ô make your salvation sure unto you by good works. Encline your heart to doe good: for the reward thereof is infinite: for he is comming and commeth quickly, and brings his reward with him, to distribute to everie one as he hath deserved, even according to his workes. Omission and commission brought my confusion.

Cautior exemplo tu. Let my example provoke you to detest that wherein I tooke delight, lest you also come hither to be tormented not onely with oppression of eternall punishment, but with omission of everlasting joyes, which I admire now, carendo non fruendo: which if I might redeeme by suffering all the torments that either tyrants have invented, or martyrs suffered; if with my tongue I might licke out the print of my feet out of the way of sinners; if with teares of blood and water I might purge my uncleannesse to worke my redemption: Ecce Domine paratum ægrum haberes in omnem medicinam. Beholde, ô Lord, thou shouldest have C2r have a patient fit for any cure. I would wring my drained eyes, ut facilè sentires paratum ad omne supplicium ipsum habitum orantis Christiani. But since my glasse is run, and my sun set; since death hath overshadowed me, and that there is no pleading after sentence; since that serò ducit suspiria, qui non expectat remedium: since my affecting what I should have desired, is turned into a feeling of that I lost; quia ex inferno nulla redemptio, quia pœnarum nullus finis, suppliciorum nulla defectio; because there is no end for my hell, nor satisfaction for my punishment: Therefore to you I call, to you that carelesse live, that feele not with what sense I speake. Consider, Whence you came, Where you are, and Whither you go. You are parts of that God that created all things for you, and you for himselfe. You live on the stage of the earth, Ubi spectaculum factiestis Deo, Angelis, & hominibus, Where you are in the view of God, angels and men. And you are going, ô looke to your going, Non est vitæ momentum sine motu ad mortem. There is no moving of life without a motion to death. You go and are alwaies going to make your appearance before the tribunall seat of God, where every man shall receive according to his works. Qualis vita, finis ita: ut cecideris, ita eris. As you fall, so he findes you: as he findes you, so he censures you: and as he censures you, so he leaves you for ever and ever. Wherefore, quia arbor ad eam partem moriens cadit, ad quam partem viuens ramos extenderat, because as a tree falles, that way it swayes while it is in growing: if you desire to fall right, learne while you are in your growth, to sway the right way. Judge your selves, that you be not judged, Ut sementum feceris, ita metes: What you sowe that you reape, either a crowne of glorie, quam nemo scit nisi qui accepit, or a chaos of confusion, in qua sempeternus horror habitat, whose worth can not be expressed, but of him that enjoyes it, or a masse of confusion in which eternall horror doth inhabit.

C2 Chap. C2v

Chap. IIII.

Who lives most honestly, will die most willingly.

Sweet (saith Chrysostome) is the end to the labourers: willingly doth the traveller question about his Inne: often casteth the hireling when his yeeres will come out: the woman great with childe will often muse of her deliverie: and he that knowes his life is but a way to death, will sit upon the thresholde with the poore prisoner, expecting to have the doore open to be let out of so lothsome a prison, looking for death without feare, desiring it with delight, and accepting it with devotion. For what’s the life of man, but even a tragedie,Full of sad sighes, and sore catastrophes?First comming to the world with weeping eye,Where all his dayes like dolorous trophes,Are heapt with spoiles of fortune and of feare.

For it is onely death that unlooseth the chaines, and sets us free from our domesticall enemie. It is onely he, that wafts us forward in this sea of calamities, the danger whereof is shewen by the multitude of those that perish by the gunshot of the divels assaults, and by the rarenesse of those that escape shipwracke. Our frailties dome, is written in the flowers,Which flourish now, but fade yer many howers.By deaths permission th’ aged linger heere,Straight after death, is due the fatall beere.

It is onely death that brings us into harbour, where our repose is without trouble, our comfort without crosses, where our teares shall be turned into triumph, our sadnesse into joy, and all our miseries into perfit felicitie. Death is the salve that ceaseth all annoy.Death is the port by which we passe to joy.

It C3r

It is for brutes to feare death, whose end of life is conclusion of their being. It is for Epicures to feare death, whose death is the beginning of their damnation. It is for such as trafficke vanities, to looke to gaine griefe; for such as have sowen sinne, to looke to reape miserie; for those of a desperate life, to looke for a damnable decease: but the good man that did sowe in teares, by death shall reape in joy; for his judge is he who knowes our weaknesse, and will acknowledge our infirmities: his accusers are made dumbe by former repentance; his conscience is cleared by former confession; hope is his staffe, to keepe him from sliding; grace is his guide, to keepe him from erring; faith his assurance, to strengthen his resolution: and what doth he lose, but fraile and tickle life, a vapour that soone vanisheth, a drie leafe carried with every winde, a sleepe fed with imaginarie dreames, a tragedy of transitory things and disguised persons, that passe away like a poste in the night, like a ship in the sea, like a bird in the aire, whose tract the aire closeth? Life is a bubble blowen up with a breath,Whose wit is weaknesse, and whose wage is death,Whose way is wildnesse, and whose inne is penance,Stooping to crooked age the host of grievance.

Who can sit in his studie and looke on his houre-glasse, and say not to himselfe, Ut hora, sic fugit vita? that thy life is spent with the houre? Who can walke in the Sunne, and looke on his shadow, and not say with Pindarus, σκίας ὄναρ ἀνθρωπος, Umbræ somnium homo, Man is but the dreame of a shadow? Or who can see the smoake dispersed in the aire, and not say with the Poet, Sic in non hominem vertitur omnis homo? Canst thou feele the wind beat on thy face, and canst thou forget that thou holdest thy tenement by a puffe of winde? eCanst thou sit by the river side, and not remember that as the river runneth, and doth not returne, so is the life of man? Canst thou shoot in the fields, and not call to mind that as the arrow flieth in the aire, so swiftly doe thy dayes C3 passe? C3v passe? Or canst thou walke in the fields, and see how some grasse is comming, some newly withered, and some already come, and doest not remember that all flesh is grasse? Miser homo, cur te ad mortem non disponis, cùm fis pro certo moriturus? Miserable man, why doest thou not dispose thy selfe to death, since thou art sure thou canst not live? Nostrum vivere, è vita transire: our best life is to die well: for living here we enjoy nothing: things past are dead and gone: things present are alwayes ending: things future alwayes beginning: while we live we die; and we leave dying, when we leave living. Our life was a smoake, and is vanished; was a shadow, and is passed; was a bubble, and is dissolved. The poore mans life is led in want, & therefore miserable. The rich mans joy is but vanity: for he is poore in his riches, abject in his honours, discontented in his delights. This made Hilarion say, Egredere: quid times, anima? octoginta annos seruisti domino: Thou hast served thy God fourescore yeeres, and therefore feare not now to goe take thy wages. And Ambrose, Non mori timeo, quia bonum habeo dominum, Who feared not to die, knowing that he that came hither to buy us an inheritance, is gone before us to prepare it for us.

O who would live, so many deaths to trie, Where will doth wish that wisedome doth reprove, Where nature craves that grace must needs denie, Where sence doth like, that reason can not love, Where best in shew in finall proofe is worst, Where pleasures upshot is to die accurst
Quid C4r

Quid es; vides. Quid futurus sis; Cogita.

Chap. V.

Speculum vitæ.

A sinners glasse.

What is the life of man but a continuall battell, and defiance with God? what have our eies and eares beene, but open gates to send in loades of sinne into our minde? What have our powers and senses beene, but tynder to take, and fewell to feed the flame of concupiscence? What hath thy body beene but a stewes of an adulteresse, but a forge of Sathan, where the fire of our affections kindled with wicked suggestions, have enflamed the passions of our heart, and made it the anvile to turne us to most ugly shapes of deformed sensualitie? What hath our soule, which is the receipt of the blessed Trinitie, betrothed to Christ in Baptisme, beautified with grace, ordeined with the fellowship of angels to eternall blesse, what hath it beene, but a most vile broker, presenting to thy will allurements of sinne? what hath our will beene, but a common harlot lusting after every delight, wherein she tooke liking? what is our memorie, but a register of most detestable and abhominable facts committed by us? what hath our reason beene, but a captived vagabond, subdued by everie passion? The sinne that conquers grace by wicked ure,So soyles our soules as they can have no cure.

So that by this metamorphosis we are become more odious to God then the divell himselfe: for the divell by creation was more beautifull than we: it was sinne that deformedmed C4v med him, and that sinne that made him odious, makes us detestable: for our sinnes are woorse then his, and we not so good as he: for his sinne was one, & ours are infinite: he sinned before the stipend of sinne was knowne, ours after notice & experience of it: he sinned created in innocencie, we sin restored unto it: he persisted in malice being of God rejected, we continue in hatred against him that recalled us: his heart was hardned against him that punisht him, ours obdurate against him that allureth us. So that our case is now such as infinite goodnesse detesteth, and infinite love cannot condole. The earth was created for a place of pleasure, the aire was created temperate, creatures were made to be obedient to man, all things framed to his best content: but see how sinne hath transformed pleasure into plagues, famine and murders many in number, grievous in qualitie, and ordinarie in experience, which indeed are but Initia doloris, for the damned suffer death without death, decaie without decay, envie without envie; for their death ever liveth: their end ever beginneth, and their decay never ceaseth, but are alwaies healed to be new wounded, dying but never dead, repaired onely to be anew decaied.

Chap. VI.

The union of Mercy and Justice.

There be two feet whereon God walketh on the hearts of men; Mercie and Trueth, which a sinner must fall downe with Marie and kisse, that in respect of Gods Justice we may reteine feare, and in regard of his Mercie conceive hope: for all the waies of God are Mercie and Truth; Mercie, that we may not despaire, and Trueth, that we may not presume. O D1r O who shall shew the countenance and gestures,Of Mercie and Justice, which faire sacred sistersWith equall poize doe ever ballance even,Th’ unchaunging projects of the king of heaven!Th’ one sterne of looke, th’ other milde aspecting,Th’ one pleasd with teares, th’ other blood affecting.Th’ one beares the sword of vengeance unrelenting,Th’ other brings pardon for the true repenting.

Because God is mercifull, wilt thou build a nest of sinne, as the Psalmist saith, upon his backe? thou canst not sever his Mercie from his Justice, and then Justice will sentence, Tarditatem pœnæ, gravitate supplicium. Is God a just God, a terrible God, into whose hands it is a horrible thing to fall? Thou canst not separate his Justice from his Mercie: she will proclaime Misericordiam Dei super omnia opera sua, his mercy exalteth hirselfe above his judgements, Vult enim omnes homines saluos fieri. He that can that he will, will not the death of one sinner, but that he may turne from his wickednesse and live for ever: he offreth his mercy to all, but never useth his justice but upon necessitie. I will sing unto thee, ô Lord, mercy and trueth together, not mercy alone, as not fearing thy judgements, nor trueth alone, as despairing in thy mercies: but thy mercies shall breed a love, and thy judgements shall make me feare to impath my selfe in the way of sinners.

For hope of helpe still comfort gives, While Mercy still with Justice lives.

Chap. VII.

Iugum meum suaue.

It is well observed by one, That the rodde of the roote of Jesse flowred, that the sweetnesse of the flower might mittigate the severitie of the the rodde. The divell is never suffred to punish us farther then is for our benefit: for either he corrects us D for D1v for our former offences, or else to prevent our future infirmities. Neither is every one that spareth, a friend, nor every one that striketh an enemie: but the words of a friend are better then the flatterings of a foe, and he that loves with austeritie, is better then he that killes with delicacie. It is the divels common course to kill our soule, while he flatters our fancie. For as the theefe that can not by open violence catch his bootie, seeketh by shrowding himselfe in valleies and bushes to take the travellers unprovided: so the divell, when by open pursuit he can not prevaile, he coutcheth himselfe in briers and shadowes of worldly vanities, entrapping us before we prevent his traines. For albeit with a smooth flight and even wing he lessen himselfe into the clouds, as an eagle delighted to view the sunne: yet is he but a ravening kite, soaring in the aire, the better to see how to seaze upon his pray. God borroweth not the Syrens voice, when he would sting with a Scorpions taile, and when he bites with the tooth of a lion, he useth not the teares of a crocodill, but as the husbandman lops his vine least the juice should be spent in leaves: so least our mindes should be imploied in vaine and superfluous pleasures; our wits which without profit would be diffused, are by him kept in compasse by tribulation. For where he purposeth to heale, he spareth not to launce: and if he see thou be fostered by the world thy naturall nurse, he can annoint hir teate with the bitternesse of discontent, to weane thee from hir: for he that bindes the franticke, and awakes the lethargee, is troublesome, but friendly to both. If ought can touch us ought, afflictions lookesMakes us to looke into our selves so neere,Teach us to know our selves beyond all bookes,Or all the learned schooles that ever were.This makes our senses quicke, and reason cleare,Resolves our will, and rectifies our thoughts,So doe the windes and thunder clense the aire,So lopt and pruned trees do flourish faire.

Be D2r

Be not discouraged; thou art a Christian, whose captaine is a Crucifixe, whose standard the Crosse, whose armour Patience, whose battell Persecution, whose victorie Death. Whether God fostreth thee as a weakling, or exercise thee as one stronger, or checke thee as one unruly; yet he tendreth all as his owne children. Behold thy Saviour with his head full of thornes, his eies full of teares, his eares full of blasphemies, his mouth full of gal, his body full of wounds, his heart full of sorrow; and blame him not, if ere thou find him, he give thee a sippe of the chalice whereof be drunke so full a cuppe. Thy love must be great, when his sorrow is more at thy ingratitude, then at his owne affliction, when he lost himselfe to winne thee: a worke without example, a grace beyond merite, a charitie surpassing measure. Wherefore whether he set thee to seeke him in the poverty of the crib and manger, or in the agony of his bloody sweat in the garden, or in the middest of reproches and false accusations before the tribunall, or in the torments of a shamefull death; yet thinke thy selfe as deepe in his favour for being tried by the torments of his passion, as those that are called by the testimonie of his glorious transfiguration.

Chap. VIII.

That feare to die is the effect of an evill life.

Johannes Patriarch of Alexandria, whose frequent deeds of charity gave him this Epithete, to be called Johannes Eleemosynarius, having his tombe in building, gave his people in charge, that it should be left unfinished, and that everie day one should put him in minde to perfect it. His meaning was, that by that meanes having his thoughts fixed of the doore of death, he might the better prepare himselfe for the passage through it. The Pope that day he is chosen, hath one comes to him D2 with D2v with foure marble stones, as patterns to choose of which his tombe shall be built. He that raketh up vertue in the ashes of the memorie of death, shall finde hir force so united, that when they come to be unraked, they shall finde that hir heate will so encourage us, that when our foule findeth a vent to mount up to hir naturall Sphere, she will flame in the firmament, and shine most oriently to our excessi ve comfort, and hir Creators inestimable glorie: for he whose life was a studie to die, well knowes that death hath lost his tartenesse by passing through the veines of life: he feares not his cold sweats, nor forgoing gripes, but taketh them as throwes in childe-bed, by which our soule is brought out of a lothsome body into eternall felicitie. He feares not the divels, whose temptations he hath valiantly resisted: the grave is no horror to him, for he knowes he sowes the body in corruption to reape it againe in immortalitie. He that liveth well, shall make a good end, and in the day of death his decease shall be blessed, for he rest from his labours, and his works doe follow him. But to him that liveth ill, death is an ever dying death: he lies tormented with the pangues of the dying flesh, amazed with the corrosive fittes of the minde, frighted with terror of that is to come, grieved with remorse of that which is past, stung with the gnawing of a guiltie conscience, terrified with the rigor of a severe judge, vexed with approch of a lothsome sepulchre. They made their prison their paradise, their bellie their God, their appetite their guide: so sowing sinne, they reape miserie, traffiking vanities, they gaine griefe, detestable was their life, and damnable is their decease.

Absit D3r

Absit mihi gloriari nisi in Christo.

Chap. IX.

That affliction is the coate of a Christian.

If we be Christians, affliction is our coat, and the Crosse our cognizance, In hoc signo vinces: Christs clouts comfort not those that walke in side robes. The stable and manger are no refreshings to such as love the highest roomes in the Synagogue. Our arke lieth not in papilionibus, but in præsepio. If we be members of that head which was prickt with thornes, let the rest of the parts sympathize with it: let the Mount Calvarie be our schoole, the crosse our pulpit, the crucifixe our meditation, his wounds our letters, his lashes our commaes, his nailes our full-points, his open side our booke, and Scire Christum crucifixum, our whole lesson. By his nakednesse, learne to clothe thee; by his crowne of thornes, how to adorne thee; by his vinegre and gall, how to diet thee; by his praying for his murderers, how to revenge thee; by his hanging on the crosse, how to repose thee. Heere learne, that death reviveth, sorow solaceth, an ecclipse enlighteneth; that out of the devourer there came meat, and out of the stronger issueth sweetnesse. And since our sinnes (like fierce Samsons) have murdered the lion of the tribe of Juda, let our repentant thoughts (like bees) sucke at the flowers of his passion, and make hony to delight our selves and provoke others. Let us seeke Christ, not inter cognatos & natos, nor with the spouse in the Canticles, in lectulo meo quæsivi quem amavi, nor with them in Osee, that looke him in gregibus & armentis; but seeke him with Moses in the desert, with Daniel in a firy throne. His delight is to see Nineve in sackcloth, Job on the D3 dunghill; D3v dunghill; he expects a perfect demonstration of a serviceable minde, for an Eamus & nos, ut moriamur cum illo: for losse of felicitie searcheth the force of affection. It is neither prosperitie that tries a friend, nor adversitie that concealeth an enemie. This is that true God that chiefe life, in whom, by whom, and from whom all things doe flow, from whom to revolt is to fall, to whom to returne is to rise, in whom to stay is to stand sure, from whom to depart is to die, to whom to repaire is to revive, in whom to dwell is to live: that God whom none loseth but deceived, none seeketh but admonished, none findeth but are cleansed, what ever is not of God is not good: give me thy selfe, & take all things els from me.

Chap. X.

A theme to thinke on.

Considera, ô homo, Quides in natura, Quis in persona, Qualis in vita. Consider, ô man, what thou art in nature, who thou art in person, what an one thou art in life: for thou art not in nature as a stone having onely being, nor as a plant having onely being and growing, nor as a brute having onely being, growing, and sense; but as a man who to these imperfections hath the perfection of a living soule added. This soul’s a substance and a reall thing,Which hath it selfe an actuall worke in night,But neither from the senses power doth spring,Nor from the bodies humours tempered right:It God himselfe doth in the bodie make,And man from this the name of man doth take.

And the same God that created thee of nothing, preser ves thee from all things that might annoy thee; gives thee health and plentie, and subjecteth all things to thy service, that thou mightst serve him in holinesse and righteousnesseousnesse D4r ousnesse all the dayes of thy life: for if God had not created thee, thou hadst not beene at all: if Christ had not redeemed thee, the divell had dejected thee in the fall of Adam: if the Holy Ghost should not comfort thee, thou couldest not be preserved as thou art. Since therefore thou art Gods by creation, redemption, and preservation, looke what time thou bestowest out of his service, thou stealest it from him who made it for thee to serve him in it, and art a thiefe. If thou beest more enamoured of any of these blessings which he bestowes on thee to win thy love, than of himselfe, who shewes his love in bestowing them on thee, thou committest idolatrie, and art an idolater. If thou bestowest good houres in ill actions, or great blessings to bad purposes, thou committest treason, and art a traitor. He that preferres not God fore all his race,Amongst the sonnes of God deserves no place.

Turpe est benè natis malè vivere, & plantatis benè peiùs fructificare. Thou art created after his owne image; make no impression unworthy that character. Pulchra sint oportet quæ ex eius animo procedunt, qui in Dei habitaculum est præparandus. Thy soule is the temple of the Holy Ghost, thou must not pollute it with brutish appetites, but prepare it with gracious meditations, most fitting food wherewithall to entertaine so heavenly a ghest. He hath made thee in person erect, that he might put thee in mind to rectifie thy thoughts and actions. O levell thy life to the straightnesse of the line of thine owne portrature. Staine not the beautie of thy parts, lest thou susteine miserie in this life with the losse of eternall life: for the stipend of sinne is death, and the merit of transgression is eternall perdition.

Chap: D4v

Chap. XI.

Morning Meditation, with sixteene sobs of a sorowfull spirit, which she used for mentall prayer, as also an addition of sixteene staves of verse taken out of Peters complaint; which she usually sung and played on the winde instrument.

Happie is the man whose life is a continuall prayer.

O God to whom nothing is so great as can resist, nothing so little as is contemptible: O Christ the guide of those that seeke thee, the light of those that finde thee: O Holy Ghost that both fillest and includest all things; I am ashamed to be seene of thee, because I am not assured to be received by thee, having neither deserved pardon for my faults, nor participation of thy glorie: yet sweet Jesu supply my defects, that by thy mercie I may obtaine remission, and by thy merits deserve salvation. Let thy passion worke compassion for me, A sorie wight the object of disgrace,The monument of feare, the map of shame,The mirror of mishap, the staine of place,The scorne of time, the infamie of fame,An excrement of earth to heaven hatefull,Injurious to man, to God ungratefull.

Lord, I am depressed with the burden of my sinnes, and oppressed with the feare of the punishment belonging to them; having neither power to resist thy wrath, nor patience to endure thy indignation: wherefore I am becomes as it doth become me, thy humble suppliant. Lord be mercifullcifull E1r cifull to me a sinner. My abject countenance witnesseth my distressed minde, my words are seasoned with sighes, and bathed with teares. O let the deaw of my devotion be drawne up with the beames of thy remorse: for behold, as a hunger-starved begger doe I knocke at thy gate, ô honorable housholder. Open, ô open the gates of thy mercies, to the greatnesse of my miseries. Sad subject of my sinne hath stor’d my minde,With everlasting matter of complaint:My throwes an endlesse alphabet doe finde,Beyond the pangues that Jeremie doth paint.That eies with errors may just measure keepe:Most teares I wish that have most cause to weepe.

Preserve my body from eternall death, reserve my soule from everlasting damnation: let me neither ungratefully remember thy benefits, nor ungratiously forget thy severe judgements: for albeit, there be no folly which hath not had his seat in my minde, and left his footstep in my actions; yet for that thou lookest for my amendment, that I may have thy favour, grant me thy favour that I may have amendment. Give vent unto the vapors of my brest,That thicken in the brims of cloudy eies,Where sin was hatch’t let teares now wash the nest.Where life was lost, recover life with cries:My trespas foule, let not my teares be few:Baptise my spotted soule in weeping dew.

Conforme my life, confirme my faith, endue my soule with thy love, subdue my flesh with thy feare: Let me not die ere I begin to live: give me time to repent, & occasion to amend: direct my reason: regenerate my wil: lead my desires, that I may seeke thee: illuminate my understanding, that I may finde thee: let my joy be in enjoying thee, in whom desire wants no satiety, nor satiety breeds discontent. E For E1v For gripes in all my parts doe never faile:Whose onely league, is now in bartring paines:What I engrosse, they traffique by retaile:Making each others miserie their gaines:All bound for ever prentices to care,Whilst I in shop of shame trade sorrowes ware.

Let thy majestie appeare in thy mercy, cover my sinnes, and I am recovered of my infirmities: for my conscience accuseth me, my memorie gives evidence against me, and my reason condemneth me. Convert ô Lord, convert my life, and divert my punishment. My guiltie eie still seemes to see my sinne:All things characters are to spell my fall.What eie doth read without heart rues within:What heart doth rue to pensive thought is gall,Which when my thought would by my tongue digest,My eares convey it backe into my brest.

Out of a maze of amazements doe I crie out unto thee, ô God my Saviour and Redeemer: Grant, ô Lord, that I may firmely resolve, speedily begin, constantly continue in performing thy will: let me honour thee as a Creator, love thee as a Redeemer, expect thee as a Saviour: for by thy goodnesse I was created, by thy mercy redeemed, by thy power preserved, and by thy grace I shall be glorified. Grant, ô sonne of God, that wast made man, that men might become the sonnes of God, that I may live in thy feare, die in thy favour, rest in thy peace, rise in thy power, remaine in thy glorie for ever and ever. For lif’s a maze of countlesse straying waies:Open to erring steps, and strowed with baits:To winde weake senses into endlesse straies,Aloofe from vertues rough unbeaten straits,A flower, a play, a blast, a shade, a dreame,A living death, a never turning streame.

Gratious E2r

Gratious God, whose honour is more in saving through pitty, then in condemning through judgement, thou that canst mitigate griefes present, and canst turne away dangers to come: pardon, I beseech thee, my sinnes past, aide me against all temptations to come, and I shall praise thy name for ever and ever. Else weeping eies resigne your teares to me,A sea will scantly rinse my ordur’d soule.Huge horrors in high tides must drowned be.Of every teare my crime exacteth toule.My staines are deepe: few drops take out none such,Even salve with sore, and most is not too much.

Good Lord, make me covet those things that be pleasing to thee, let me finde them easily, and search them wisely, know them truely, and exercise them effectually, to thy glory and my salvation. Dispose the course of my life, that it may accomplish that which thou requirest: Lay forth thy passions that I may feele them; satisfie me in thy mercies, that I may rejoice in them: remoove from me all lets to serve thee, and give me those things that may draw me to thee: instruct my judgement, rule my affections according to thy will, in the depth of thy mercies confound the devises of my enemies against me. Lest shame the livery of offending mind,The ugly shroud that overshadoweth blame,The mulct at which foule faults are justly fin’d,The dampe of sinne, the common sluce of fame,By which impostum’d tongues their humors purge,Doe light on me: for I deserve thy scurge.

Lord thou hast delivered me out of the jawes of death, and redeemed my soule out of the gates of perdition, sanctifie my life, that it may be a witnesse of my thankefulnesse; let my memorie be a record to shew thy goodnesse; E2 so E2v so shall my lips shew forth thy praise, and my heart shall be possest with the glory of thy greatnesse. For fawning vipers, dumbe till they had wounded,With many mouthes do now ubraid my harmes:My sight was vail’d, till I my selfe confounded,But now I see the disinchanted charmes,Now can I cut th’ anatomie of sinne,And search with Linxes eyes what lies within.

Give me, ô Lord, sorrow for my sinnes, thankefulnesse for thy benefits, feare of thy judgements, and love of thy mercies: give me an understanding heart, that I may conceave a right love of thy lawe, that I may desire to performe it, strength of thy spirit that I may have power to execute it: and because by thy grace I am that I am, let thy demaunds be no greater then thou hast given me grace to performe. Lord give what thou commandest, and then command what thou wilt: let the greatnesse of thy mercies supplie the wants of my miseries: that my heart may rejoice in the Lord, and thy saving health may be knowne among all nations. O beames of mercy beat on sorrowes cold,Powre suppling shewers on my parched ground,Bring foorth the fruit of your due service vow’d,Let good desires with like deserts be crownd,Water yongue blooming vertues tender flowre,Sin did all grace of riper growth devoure.

Have mercy upon me, ô Lord, have mercy upon me, according to the multitude of thy mercies, doe away my offences: wash me from my wickednesse, and clense me from my secret sinnes: for I acknowledge my faults, and my sinnes have made me odious to my selfe. Be mercifull, ô Lord, be mercifull unto thy servant, and let not the gates of hell prevaile against him: for though the stipend of his sinne is death, and the merit of his transgression eternall perdition; E3r perdition; yet is thy mercie above all thy works, and thou canst forgive more, than he could offend: thou that wilt not the death of a sinner, denie not the request of a repentant sinner: thou which hast given me repentance, which is the seale of forgivenesse, grant me forgivenesse, which is the assurance of repentance. If David night by night did bathe his bed,Esteeming longest dayes too short to mone:Inconsolable teares if Anna shed,Who in hir sonne hir solace had forgone:Then I to dayes, to months, to weeks, to yeeres,Do owe the hourely rent of stintlesse teares.

Out of the depth of my soule do I crie unto thee, Lord put me not to rebuke in thine anger; let not thine hand presse me, neither chasten me in thy displeasure; for I confesse my wickednesse, and am sory for my sinne; suffer not my name to be touched with dishonour, neither give me over to be clothed in rebuke: cleanse my heart from corrupt thoughts, and purge my mouth from all uncleannesse, and impath me in that course that is best pleasing to thee. Christ health of fever’d soule, heaven of the mind,Force of the feeble, nurse of infant loves,Guide to the wandring foot, light to the blind,Whom weeping winnes, repentant sorow moves,Father in care, mother in tender hart,Revive and save me slaine with sinfull dart.

Praise the Lord, ô my soule, ô let all that is within me praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, ô my soule, and let not the least of his benefits be forgotten: for he hath deli vered thy body from death, and thy soule hath he redeemed out of the estate of damnation: for he hath created thee after his owne image, and breathed a living soule into thee, to praise his name for ever and ever: for his providenceE3 dence E3v dence hath preserved thee, his strength defended thee, his mercie comforted thee, and his grace shall glorifie thee: O therefore praise his holy name; O let all that is within me sing praises to my God, my Saviour and Redeemer. Lazar at pities gate I ulcered lie,Craving the refuse crummes of childrens plate.My sores I lay in view to mercies eye:My rags beare witnesse of my poore estate.The wormes of conscience that within me swarme,Prove that my plaints are lesse than is my harme,

Give me, ô Lord, an understanding heart, that I may have a true feeling of the greatnesse of thy benefits, instruct thou my lippes, and my mouth shall shew foorth thy praise: for my heart desireth to have hir love knowen, and my spirit rejoiceth in God my Saviour: I will magnifie thy holy name, for thou hast heard my voice, and not suffred my foes to triumph over me: thou hast relieved my wants, and given me plenty when I was in necessitie. I will lift up my hands unto the king of glory, even unto his mercies seat from whence is my redemption; for I know the weaknesse of our flesh, and acknowledge there is no helpe that comes not from above. Prone lookes, crost armes, bent knee, and contrite heart,Deepe sighs, thicke sobs, dew’d eies, and prostrate praiers,Most humbly begge release of earned smart,And saving shrowd in mercies sweet repaires:If Justice should my wrongs with rigor wage,Feares would dispaires, ruth breed a hopelesse rage.

I Give thee thanks, ô most mercifull father, for all thy benefits bestowed upon me, desiring thee long to continue them, and to make me thankfull for them: direct the words of my mouth, the meditations of my heart, the actions of my body, that they may be pleasing to thee, and profitable for me: Lord heare my voice, accept this my sacrifice of thankesgiving, E4r thanksgiving, which thy bountifull goodnesse hath extorted. Let not the world, the flesh, nor the divell prevaile against me, but let thy gracious spirit conquer them in all my conflicts. Lord I have reposed my whole trust in thee, let not thy servant be put to confusion. With mildnesse Jesu measure my offence,Let true remorse thy due revenge abate,Let teares appease when trespasse doth incense,Let pittie temper thy deserved hate,Let grace forgive, let love forget my fall:With feare I crave, in hope I humblie call.

Lord, though I can neither praise thee as becommeth me, nor pray to thee as I ought to doe; yet accept I beseech thee, these my halting speeches brokenly uttered, as an oblation for my most grievous offences: looke upon me in thy mercies, and let the blood of that immaculate lambe Christ Jesus, stand betwixt me and thy judgements. Lord, into thy hands do I commend my soule, and my body into thy custody, Lord Jesu receive them: Lord blesse me and al that belongs unto me from this time foorth for evermore. Sweet Jesu sanctifie my life, & blesse me with sorrow for my sinnes, thankfulnesse for thy benefits, feare of thy judgements, love of thy mercies, mindefulnesse of thy presence, that living in thy feare, I may die in thy favour, rest in thy peace, rise in thy power, remaine in thy glory for ever and ever. Redeeme my lapse with ransome of thy love,Travers th’ inditement, rigors doome suspend,Let frailtie favour, sorrow succour move.Be thou thy selfe, though changeling I offend,Tender my suite, clense this defiled den,Cancell my debts, sweet Jesu say Amen.

Chap. E4v

Chap. XII.

A Madrigall made by Berny Grymeston upon the conceit of his mothers play to the former ditties.

How many pipes, as many sounds.

Do still impart to your sonnes hart

As many deadly wounds.

How many strokes, as many stounds,

Ech stroke a dart, ech stound a smart,

Poore Captive me confounds.

And yet how oft the strokes of sounding keyes hath slaine,

As oft the looks of your kind eies restores my life againe.


Chap. XIII.

Evening Meditation.

Odes in imitation of the seven pœnitentiall Psalmes, in seven severall kinde of verse.

Domine exaudi orationem meam.

Vouchsafe admit thy gracious eares,

With milde regard for to attend

The prayers, that a plaining heart

With sorowing sighs to thee doth send:

And let thereto, ô loving Lord,

Thy Justice and thy Trueth accord.

In rigour of thy righteous doome,

O do not scan thy servants cause:

For there is none on earth alive,

Through faultlesse life freed from thy lawes.

Then how may I in sinfull plight,

Seeme just in thy all-seeing sight!

The friend of sinne, the foe of soules,

Downe to the earth my soule hath brought,

Which to the heaven should aspire,

Since from the heaven it was wrought:

O raise it up againe to blisse,

From earth and all that earthly is.

Amids the darke misse-led am I,

Where lacke of light sinnes view denies:

I live a life more like to death,

While dead from grace my bodie lies,

And where as care through secret smart

Sends anguish to afflict my hart.

F But F1v

But I (ô Lord) recall to minde

What thou hast done in time before,

And how thy Justice hath beene great,

But how thy Mercy hath beene more.

Thus hope of helpe still comfort gives,

While Mercie still with Justice lives.

My stretched hands to thee display

The ensignes of my yeelding hart:

My soule, as earth that water wants,

Of vertues fruit can beare no part.

I faint, send some reliefe of raine,

Lest els unfruitfull I remaine.

Thy face of pitie, not of wrath,

Turne not, ô loving Lord, from me:

And let not, Lord, my owne misdeeds

Have lasting force to anger thee:

For so might I compare my case

To theirs that furthest fall from grace.

But since my hope is firme in thee,

Let me betimes thy mercie have,

The way of health make knowen to me,

My feet from erring paths to save.

Onely to thee my soule retires:

Onely thy mercie it desires.

O free me from my sinfull foes,

To thee I flie to be secure,

Teach me the lesson of thy will,

And let me put it well in ure.

Thou art my God, and God of all

That for thy aide and comfort call.

Thou F2r

Thou wilt vouchsafe to me, ô Lord,

Thy Holy Spirit to be my guide,

My faith and hope in thee is such,

And such it ever shall abide.

Revive thou wilt me for thy name:

Goodnesse in thee requires the same.

So that at last by thee, ô God,

My soule from bile to blis be brought;

And that in mercie thou subuert

All those my soules destruction sought:

And force of foes destroyd may be.

And I made safe for serving thee.

All glory be to thee, ô God

The Father of eternall might,

And to the Sonne and Holy ghost,

Three in an undivided plight,

As now it is, and was of yore,

And shall endure for evermore.

De profundis clamavi ad te Domine.

Even from the depth of woes,

Wherein my soule remaines,

To thee in supreme blisse,

O Lord, that highest raignes,

I do both call and crie.

It’s deepe heart sorowes force,

That moves me thus to waile:

It’s pity Lord in thee,

Must make it to availe.

Thine eares therefore applie.

F2 If F2v

If strictly thou, ô Lord,

Observed hast my sinne,

Alas, what shall I do?

What case then am I in,

If rigour thou extend?

But well, ô Lord, I know

Sweet Mercy dwels with thee:

And with thy Justice then

It must expected be:

And I therefore attend.

My soule doth wait on thee,

Thy grace confirms my trust,

My warrant is thy word,

Thou keepest promise just:

Keepe me, ô Lord, secure.

Let thy afflicted flocke

Comfort in thee retaine,

From dawning day to night,

From night to day againe

Let still their hope endure.

There is with our good God

Much mercy still in store

Redemption doth remaine

With him for evermore.

Abundant is his grace.

His people he afflicts

He will not leave distrest,

The thralled he will free

With ease of their unrest,

And all their faults deface.

All F3r

All glory be therefore,

O Father, unto thee,

And so unto the Sonne

The like great glory be,

And to the Holy Ghost,

Such as it woonted was

Before the world beganne,

Such as now yet it is,

And ever shall remaine,

Above all glory most.

Domine exaudi orationem meam.

O Let, ô Lord, thine eares enclined be

To heare the praiers that I make to thee:

And my hearts griefe that breaketh foorth in cries,

O let is have the power to pierce the skies.

Turne not from me thy favourable face,

What day or houre I am in heavie case:

But when I call to thee in my distresse,

O heare me, Lord, and send me soone redresse.

My daies and yeares, alas with little gaine,

Like unto smoke, how are they past in vaine!

My forces, Lord, how are they parch’t and dry!

Devotions lacke yeelds moisture no supply.

The blasted grasse my image now can show,

My withered heart confirmes that it is so,

And I forgotten have, unto my griefe,

To eate the bread of my soules best reliefe.

And my too much regard of earthly care,

Before my selfe for grace I could prepare,

Made reason to abandon reason quite,

And to affliction fast it selfe unite.

F3 But F3v

But now, ô Lord, since that I now beginne

To see my selfe, and know the shame of sinne;

From earthly traine I will retire my minde,

Thee will I seeke my saving health to finde.

In desert like as lives the Pelicane,

Or as the Crowe that doth day light refraine,

Or chirping Sparrow sitting all alone,

I shrowd, I watch, retir’d I make my mone.

But while, O Lord, I doe endure this life,

Expecting peace, by fleeing worldly strife,

Old friends I finde become new noisome foes,

O love me Lord, for losse of love of those.

My penance not restraind through scorne of these,

My foode I take with ashes and with teares,

The more I feare lest thou on me shouldst frowne,

That canst me raise, and raising cast me downe.

My daies decline as doth a shadow passe,

And I as haie that whilome was as grasse:

But thou from age to age shalt ever be,

Then evermore, ô Lord, forget not me.

Vouchsafe, ô Lord, in puissance to arise,

To raise thy Sion that depressed lies:

Now is the time, the time doth now expire,

It mercy wants, and mercy doth desire.

This glorious worke was first begun by thee:

Thy servants erst were glad the stones to see:

And they will grieve with hearts afflicted care,

If so the ruines thou dost not repaire.

But when, ô Lord, thy works shall shew thy fame,

The faithlesse people then shall feare thy name,

And earthly kings shall bend their glory downe

At thy celestiall glory and renowne.

Because F4r

Because thy Church, thy Sion, thou diddest build,

Where thou wouldst ever have thy honor hild,

And hast nor unregarded heard the plaint

Of faithfull folke, thrald in untruths restraint.

And that no time, remembrance may impaire

Of thy mainteined worke and mercy rare:

Let people now, for people to ensue,

Thy praise record, thy praises to renue.

For from high heaven to this low earthly place,

From blisse to bale our Lord enclines his face,

The groanes to heare, the grieved to release,

To free from thrall, to make affliction cease.

The more may Sion now sound foorth his fame,

Jerusalem his praises may proclaime,

Wherein his Church, his people do accord,

And where as kings are subjects to their Lord.

Who may, O Lord, the datelesse daies relate,

That of all ages overpasse the date?

It’s thou to us hast put appointed space,

O stop not me ere halfe I runne my race.

These elements by alteration strange

Shall changed be, and so remaine in change:

But thou, ô Lord, that workst all at thy will,

Wast earst the same, the same remaining still.

Vouchsafe, ô Lord, their ofspring to preserve,

That thee in feare, and faith, and love do serve,

And in thy waies directed to remaine,

A lasting life in lasting blis to gaine.

Unto the Father, Sonne and holy Ghost,

All praise and glory be ascribed most,

As heere before the world begun,

And as it now, and ever shall be done.

F4 Miserere F4v

Miserere mei Deus.

Have mercy ô good God on me

in greatnesse of thy grace,

O let thy mercies manifold

my many faults deface.

Foule, filthie, lothsome, ugly sinne

hath so defiled me,

With streames of pittie wash me cleane,

else cleane I cannot be.

Too well my foule unclensed crimes

Remembrance doe renew,

Too plaine in anguish of my heart

they stand before my view.

To thee alone, ô Lord, to thee

these evils I have done,

And in thy presence, woe is me,

that ere they were begun.

But since thou pardon promisest

where hearts true ruth is showne;

Shew now thy mercies unto me,

to make thy justnesse knowne.

That such as doe infringe thy grace,

be made asham’d, and shent,

As rife thy mercies to behold,

as sinners to repent.

With favour view my foule defects:

in crimes I did beginne:

My nature bad, my mother fraile,

conceav’d I was in sinne.

But G1r

But since thy selfe affectest truth,

and truth it selfe is Thee;

I truely hope to have thy grace

from sinne to set me free.

Since to the faithfull thou before

the secret science gave,

Whereby to know what thou wouldst spend,

the sinfull world to save.

Whose heavenly Hyssope sacred drops,

shall me besprinckle so,

That it my sinne-defiled soule

shall wash more white then snow.

O when my eares receive the sound

of such my soules release,

How do sinne laden limmes rejoice,

at hearts true joies encrease!

From my misdeeds retyre thy sight,

view not so foule a staine,

First wipe away my spots impure,

then turne thy face againe.

A cleane and undefiled heart,

ô God, create in me:

Let in me, Lord, of righteousnesse

a spirit infused be.

From that most glorious face of thine

ô cast me not away,

Thy holy Ghost vouchsafe, ô God,

With me that it may stay.

Thy joy of thy salvation, Lord,

restore to me againe,

And with the sprite of graces chiefe,

confirme it to remaine.

G That G1v

That when at thy most gracious hand

my sutes received be,

The impious I may instruct

how they may turne to thee.

For when, ô Lord, I am releast

from vengeance and from blood,

How joyfull shall I speake of thee,

so gracious and so good!

Thou, Lord, wilt give me leave to speake,

and I thy praise will showe:

For so thy graces do require

thou doest on me bestowe.

If thou sinne offrings hadst desired,

as wonted were to be,

How gladly those for all my illes,

I would have yeelded thee!

But thou accepts in sacrifice

a sorrowing soule for sinne,

Despising not the heart contrite,

and humbled minde within.

Deale graciously, ô loving Lord,

in thy free bounty will

With Sion thy deare spouse on earth,

and fortifie it still.

That so thou mayest thence receive

that soveraigne sacrifice,

From altar of all faithfull hearts,

devoutly where it lies.

To thee, ô Father, glory be,

and glory to the Sonne,

And glory to the holy Ghost

eternally be done.

Domine G2r

Domine ne in furore.

Amiddes the fury, my deare Lord,

rebuke not me,

Nor let thy chasticement befall,

when wrathfull thou shalt be.

Thy arrrowes in my selfe I feele

already stand,

I see, ô Lord, thou fixed hast

at me thy ayming hand.

Within my selfe (ô woe is me)

no health I finde,

Through feare and terror of thy face

that seemes to wrath enclinde.

My very bones disturbed be,

gone is their peace,

My owne beholding of my sinnes,

doth worke my woes encrease.

And as my sinnes surmounting are,

I must confesse,

So are they mounted on my head,

and heavy me oppresse.

My crimes forepast and pardoned,

like starres remaine,

That putrifi’d breake out anewe,

because I sinne againe.

A wofull wretch am I become,

crooked I grow,

Each day I waile, and while I live,

I will continue so.

G2 My G2v

My members by illusions led

me so restraine,

My healthlesse body is unapt

true vertue to retaine.

By great affliction I am brought

exceeding lowe;

Be moved, Lord, through my loud groanes,

thy mercies to bestowe.

My suites, ô Lord, tend all to thee,

thou knowest my case;

My plaints and penance, Lord, accept,

that so I may have grace.

Within my selfe my silly heart

is vexed still,

My force is lost, my sight I lacke

to see and shun my ill.

In my displeasing thee, ô Lord,

right well I see,

My friends are foes, my life is sought,

and force is wrought on me.

They wish my ill, and speake my scorne;

and when they smile,

Their hate admits no time of stay

to studie fraud and guile.

But I, alas, with patience prest

must all forbeare,

Like to the dumbe, and seeming deafe,

I neither speake nor heare.

And for because, ô gracious God,

I trust in thee,

Thou wilt, I know, my loving Lord,

give eare and aide to me.

Let G3r

Let not, O Lord, my foes prevaile,

lest they rejoyce,

Sith scarse my feet I may remove,

but they advance their voice.

Of my misdeeds I am prepar’d

to beare the smart:

Still is my sinne before my sight,

and sorow in my hart.

I will revolve my faults forepast

amids my minde,

And those I truely will confesse,

that I may mercy finde.

Hate hath confirm’d on me my foes,

in wrong full wise,

And still they live, and do increase,

whose envy never dies.

They yeeld me ill that gave them good,

and me defie,

Because I goodnesse would ensue,

from which they seeke to flie.

Forsake me not, O Lord my God,

in state distrest;

Be ready, Lord, to my reliefe,

my life in thee doth rest.

To Father, Sonne, and Holy Ghost

all glory be,

From former endlesse date to dure

to all eternitie.

G3 Beati G3v

Beati quorum remissæ sunt.

O How much blest may they remaine,

That pardon for their guilt obtaine,

And whose great ill, and ech offence,

Lies hid in contrite penitence!

What happy state may he be in,

To whom our Lord imputes no sin,

Whose conscience doth no guile retaine,

That can himselfe beguile againe?

I did my sinnes in silence holde,

In griefe whereof my bones grew olde:

Meane while my dayes in plaints of paine,

Without redresse, I spent in vaine.

But when, O Lord, thy heavy hand

No day or night I could withstand,

But that in anguish overworne,

My conscience prickt as with a thorne:

Loe then, O Lord, I did beginne

To utter all my secret sinne,

No longer list I ought conceale,

But ech in justice to reveale.

Against my selfe, I sayd, will I

My wrongs confesse, and faults defie:

To thee, O Lord, O Lord to thee,

That hast from all absolved me.

And since I thus thy mercies finde,

Let ech of good and godly minde

Approch to thee in happy time,

To pray for pardon of his crime.

For G4r

For such as so do sincke in sin,

That still they plunged lie therein,

Unable are of thee to gaine

What contrite sinners can obtaine.

O Lord, my refuge rests in thee,

When troubles do environ me:

O free me then, my freedomes joy,

From such as seeke me to annoy.

Great comforts, Lord, I do conceave,

Thou me thy servant wilt not leave:

But wilt instruct and guide me right,

And keepe me ever in thy sight.

O ye that carelesse are of grace,

Beholde, and see your brutish case,

And be not as the horse and mule,

That live devoid of reasons rule.

And thou, O Lord, in mercies rife,

Vouchsafe restraine their straying life,

With bit and bridle make them stay,

That unto thee will not obey.

Since that for those of sinfull trade

Full many scourges there be made,

Well’s him that doth in God repose,

Whose mercies may his soule enclose,

Be therefore joyfull in our Lord,

All that to righteousnesse accord;

Let ech with gladnesse beare his part,

That hath a pure and perfect hart.

All glory be, O Lord, to thee,

And to thy Sonne in like degree,

As also to the Holy Ghost

Perpetuall and enduring most.

G4 Domine G4v

Domine ne in furore.

When my misdeeds, ô God,

may thee to anger moove,

Amids the rigour of thy rage,

vouchsafe me not reproove.

Nor when for my offences

thy chastisement must be,

In thy displeasure, ô deare Lord,

let it not light on me.

Thy mercies Lord I crave,

of strength I am bereft;

O salve the sorenesse, that my sinne

upon my bones hath left.

My much aggrieved soule,

my sorrowes doth abound:

How long, O Lord, shall they endure,

or comfort be unfound?

O turne thy selfe to me,

and rid my soule of paine,

Even for thy mercies which exceed,

and ever doe remaine.

O hasten thee, O Lord,

to save and set me free:

Amongst the dead (to their availe)

there’s none can thinke on thee.

And in the depth of hell,

where there is no redresse,

Who is it that will give thee praise,

or unto thee confesse?

My H1r

My sighings for my sinnes

have past in painfull wise,

And I each night will wash my bed

with teares of wailing eies.

My sight is vext with feare

of furie in thy rage,

O that my sinnes must be my foes

to weare me out in age.

Away, away from me,

all yee that are unjust:

Let him my wofull sound receave,

in whom I put my trust.

That I with joy may say,

how to my suites accord,

Vouchsafed hath to condiscend

my deare and loving Lord.

Let shame my foes befall,

and vexed let them be,

Their owne conversion, or their shame,

Lord, let them quickly see.

Glory, ô God to thee,

and unto Christ thy sonne,

As also to the holy Ghost,

let endlesly by done.

Chap. XIIII.


The darts of lust are the eyes, and therefore fixe not thy eye on that which thou mayest not desire.

Opportunity kindleth the fire of concupiscence.

In all temptations it is safer to flie, than to fight with Satan.

H Shun H1v

Shun occasion of doing evill, and thou hast halfe overcome him.

Affections are the seet of the minde; and therefore set a watch over them, lest they make hir miscary.

Examine thy thoughts. If thou findest them to be good; there is the spirit: Quench not the spirit. If bad; forbid them entrance: for once admitted, they straightwayes fortifie, and are expelled with more difficultie, than not admitted.

Epicurisme is the fewell of lust; the more thou addest, the more she is inflamed.

There is no moment of time spent, which thou art not countable for, and therefore, when thou hearest the clocke strike, thinke there is now another houre come whereof thou art to yeeld a reckoning; and by endevouring to spend one houre better than another, thou shalt come to some better perfection in Christianity.

He that considereth the joyes of heaven that good men expect, or the dread of torments which the bad shall suffer, will hardly sinne.

The end of a dissolute life is a desperate death. There was never president to the contrary, but in the theefe in the Gospell: In one, lest any should despaire: in one alone, lest any should presume.

Thinke from whence thou camest, and blush: where thou art, and sigh: and tremble to remember whither thou shalt goe.

Desperate thoughts are fit for such as feare shame, and not for such as hope for credit.

Evill thoughts are the divels harbingers: for he lodgeth not, but where they provide his entertainment.

The whole world is as an house of exchange, in which Fortune is the nurse that breeds alteration.

Mishap is the touchstone of friendship, and adversity the triall of friends.

Indifferent equality is safest superiority.

Where H2r

Where proportion keeps not the doore, there confusion will quickly enter.

Where passions encrease, complaints multiply.

It is neither freedome to live licentiously, nor liberty to live without labour.

Labour in youth, gives strong hope of rest in olde age.

Carefulnesse and diligence are the keyes of certeinty.

A malefactor hath feare for his bedfellow, care for his companion, and the sting of conscience for his torment.

In contention, advised patience, and opportunity well taken, are the best weapons of advantage.

Thanks waxe olde when gifts are had in possession.

So give, as that thou mayest alwayes be giving, and never be sayd to have done giving.

Give to the poore, but not beyond thy power.

If thou givest a benefit, keepe it close; but if thou receivest one, publish it: for that invites another.

Let thy wit be thy friend, thy minde thy companion, thy tongue thy servant.

Let vertue be thy life, valour thy love, honour thy fame, and heaven thy felicity.

In differences rather chuse to purchase by perswasion, than to enjoy by violence.

He that leaves his wife a goldefinch, may hap at his returne finde hir a wagtaile.

On the anvill of upbraiding is forged the office of unthankfulnesse.

True nobility descending from ancestry proves base, if present life continue not thy dignity.

The longer we delay to shew our vertue, the stronger is the presumption that we are guiltie of base beginning.

Who may doe all that he will, will doe that which he should not.

Let thy speech be the shadow of thy deed.

He is not woorthy to finde the trueth, that deceitfully seeks hir.

H2 Innocence H2v

Innocencie groweth in despight of oppression.

Dominion is alwayes attended by envy.

Fortune is alwayes a friend to a froward minde.

He never gives in vaine that gives in zeale.

Courtesie is the true character of a good minde.

Anger is the cradle of courage.

Looking eyes have liking hearts.

Trueth is the centre of religion.

Dominion is safest, where obedience is best nourished.

Let the eyes be sentinels of the body.

By being silent, thou shalt both know other mens imperfections, and conceale thine owne.

Charity and humility purchase immortality.

Age may gaze at beauties blossomes, but youth climbes the tree and enjoyes the fruit.

Death is the tribute all flesh must pay.

He dies most willingly that lived most honestly.

Who lives to die, dies to live.

Time is the herald of Trueth: and Trueth the daughter of Time.

Who climbes by privie sinne, shall fall with open shame.

Who swimmes in vice, will sinke in vanity.

The yoong man may die quickly, but the olde man can not live long.

The chiefe properties of wisedome are to be mindfull of things past, carefull of things present, provident of things to come.

The longer God stayeth, not finding amendment, the sorer he scourgeth when he comes to judgement.

Whoso passeth many yeeres, and purchaseth little profit, hath had a long being, and a short life.

Let thy apparell be cleanly without singularitie: thy speech such as may mainteine love and win affection.

Use such affabilitie and convenient complements, as com- H3r common civilitie and usuall courtesie most requireth, without making thy selfe too cheape to thy friend, or him too deare to thee.

Be not at any time idle. Alexanders souldiers should scale molehilles rather than rest unoccupied: it is the woman that sitteth still, that imagineth mischiefe: it is the rolling stone that riseth cleane, and the running water that remaineth cleare.

Standing water is soonest frozen, and he that sitteth still is quickliest overcome with sleepe.

Thoughts are the buddes of the minde; and words the blossomes of their desires; and deeds the fruits of their event: and therefore he that will not suffer ill thoughts to fructifie, must crop them in the bud.

There be foure good mothers have foure bad daughters: Trueth hath Hatred; Prosperity hath Pride; Security hath Perill; and Familiarity hath Contempt.

He that refuseth to take counsell good cheape, buyes repentance too deare.

Let thy love hang on thy hearts bottome, not on thy tongues brimme.

Mistrust no man without cause, neither be credulous without proofe.

Suspition may enter a false action, but it is proofe brings in the good plea.

When we are most miserable, then Gods grace is most favourable.

Who thinkes before he doe, thrives before he thinke.

A perverse man is like a sea crab that alwaies swimmes against the streame.

Wisedome is that Olive that springeth from the heart, bloometh on the tongue, and beareth fruit in the actions.

The end of trecherie is to have no trust.

He that makes a question where there is no doubt, must take an answer where there is no reason. H3 Where H3v

Where marriage rides on the saddle, repentance will be on the crupper.

Before thou sleepe, apparell thy remembrance with that thou didst waking.

It is lesse paine to learne in youth, then to be ignorant in old age.

Better not to be, then to be slave to passion.

Innocency is the best good, and a guilty conscience the woorst evill.

Humilitie raiseth when fortune depresseth.

He receives a benefit that bestowes it woorthily.

Curtesie in majestie bindes affection in dutie.

Delay in punishment is no priviledge of pardon.

The law of feare is melted by Christ in the mould of love.

Everie man is the workeman of his fortune, and fashioneth hir according to his maners.

Happy is that mishap whereby we passe to better perfection.

Povertie that contenteth is best riches.

Death and misfortune come soone inough if slow inough.

So love as thou maiest hate.

So hate as thou maiest love, and both without challenge.

Opinion judgeth that the best, that it least enjoieth.

Judges opinions make suites immortall.

A good beliefe bringeth foorth a good life.

No greater comfort then to know much: no lesse labour then to say little.

No greater misery then to fall into unknowen miserie.

Prosperity breedeth ignorance, and adversitie bringeth foorth knowledge.

He cannot judge of pleasure, that never tasted paine.

He findes best helpe in adversitie, that seekes it in prosperitie. The H4r

The man is happiest that liveth least his owne, and most his neighbours.

A little streame drives a light mill.

A small summe paies a short reckoning.

Give a lazie clarke a leane fee.

In little medling lieth much rest.

Where opportunitie opens the shop dore, the ware is best sold.

A wanton eie lighteth where it leveleth.

Jealousie is the herbinger of disdaine.

He that will stirre affection in others, must shew passion in himselfe.

Lingering is lothsome where necessitie requireth haste.

Carelesse men are ever neerest their owne harme.

After the unlawfull getting of a covetous father, soone followeth the riotous spending of a prodigall sonne.

The vertue of a prince is the chiefest authoritie of his magistrate.

A milde answer reconciles displeasure.

A wanton eie is the messenger of an unchast heart.

There is nothing swifter decreasing, then youth while it is increasing.

The soule is the greatest thing in the least continent.

Let the limits of thy power, be the bounds of thy will.

A faire woman is a paradise to the eie, a purgatorie to the purse and a hell to the soule.

The death of an evill man is the safetie of a good man.

What harme the heart doth thinke, and hand effect, that will the worme of conscience betray.