A Modest Meane to Mariage pleasauntly set foorth by that famous Clarke Erasmus Roterodamus, and translated into Englishe by N.L.

Part 2

Chapter 24,295 wordsPublic domain

=Pam.= He had a head made like a sugar lofe, the heare thereof growing as it were by stitches and that knotted, vnkempt, full of scurfe and nittes, and a good parte of hys scalpe was bared by the disease called _Alopecia_, his eies sunk into his head, his nosethrils wide & turning vpwardes, a mouth like an Ouen with rotten téeth, and a stamering tongue, a scuruy beard, a hunch backe, a belly like a tode, and legges as right as a paire of horse hāmes.

[Sidenote: Alopecia _is a disease that causeth the heare to pill off_.]

=Ma.= Marry sir you describe him to be a very _Thersites_?

[Sidenote: Thersites _a Prince, that came with the Greekes to the siege of Troye, which in person and condicion was of all other most deformed_.]

=Pam.= Nay besides al this, they say, he had but one of his eares.

=Ma.= Peraduenture he had lost the other in some battaile.

=Pam.= No surely, euen in peace.

=Ma.= Who durst be so bolde to doe that?

=Pam.= Who but _Dionysius_ that cutteth of eares at the Pillory.

=Ma.= Wel, it may be yet y^e his substance at home was such as made a full mendes for all the deformitie that you haue spoken of.

=Pam.= Nay surely: he had vnthriftilye spent all, and ought more than hee was worth, with this suchen an husbande doth this so goodly a wench nowe lead hir life.

=Ma.= You haue declared a thing much to be pittied.

=Pam.= Surely it is true, the Goddesse _Nemesis_ woulde so haue it, that the iniurie of the yong man, whome shée despised might be requited of hir.

[Sidenote: Nemesis, _the Goddesse of wrath or indignation_.]

=Ma.= I would rather wish to be destroyed with a thunderbolt out of hande, than to be yoked with such a mate.

=Pam.= Therfore beware how you prouoke this Ladie, who reuengeth disdaine, and frame your harte to loue him againe, who loueth you.

=Ma.= If that may suffice (loe) I loue you again.

=Pam.= But I craue that loue at your hand, which should be perpetuall and to loue me as your owne. I séeke a wife, not a friend.

[Sidenote: Deliberandum est diu, quod statuendum est semel.]

=Ma.= I know that well inough, but that thing requireth long deliberation, and much aduisement, which when it is done, cannot be vndone againe.

=Pam.= I haue deliberated vppon it to long for my part.

=Ma.= Well (I réede you) take héede, least loue who is not the best counseller beguile you, for men say that loue is blinde.

=Pam.= Nay, that loue hath eyes which springeth vpon iudgement: I doe not therfore take you to be such a one as you are, bicause I loue you: but I loue you for that I plainly sée you to be such a one.

=Ma.= Beware I say, you mistake me not, you maye bée ouerséene, if you had worne the shoe, then you shoulde perceyue where it wringeth.

=Pam.= I must put it in a venture, although by many good tokens I conceyue a hope of better lucke.

=Ma.= Whye, are you skilfull in signes and tokens, are you become an Augur?

=Pam.= Yea marry am I.

[Sidenote: _Augurs bee they which by certaine signes in birdes and beasts descrie things to come._]

=Ma.= By what Augurall signes I praye you, do you coniecture that it shal be thus? hath the night Crowe taken hir flight before you?

=Pam.= She flieth for fooles.

=Ma.= What, haue you séene a cowple of Dooues come flying towardes you on the right hande?

=Pam.= No such thing, but I haue knowne for the space of certaine yeares the verteous and honest behauiour of your parents, that is a birde not least to be regarded (I think) to be come of a good stock. Moreouer, I am not ignorant with what wholesome instructions, and verteous examples you haue bene traded and brought vp by them. And truely good education is of more effect than good Parentage. This is an other signe which moueth me to conceyue a good hope, beside this, betwene my parents, which I hope I néede not to be ashamed of and yours, haue (as I suppose) bene, no smal loue and friendship. Yea we our selues from our biggens (as they say) haue bene brought vp togither, & not much vnlike one vnto another in nature and disposition. Now our age, substance, estimation, and bloude are as well betwéene vs two, as betwéene both our parentes in a maner equall. Lastly that which in friendship is the chiefe thing, your maners séemeth not the worste to square vnto my minde and liking, for it maye bee that a thing is simply and of it selfe right excellent and yet not apt and méete for some vse. How my maners frameth vnto your minde againe I knowe not. These, these be the birdes (my Ioy) which putteth mee in an assured hope, that a coniunction betwéene vs two, shall be right ioyfull, pleasant, stable, & swéete, so that you could finde in your hart to sing that song, which I so much desire to beare.

=Maria.= What song is that you would haue me to sing.

=Pam.= I will teach you the tune therof. _Sum tuus_, say you againe, _Sum tua_.

[Sidenote: _I am thine. Be thou mine._]

=Ma.= The song in déede is short, but me thinks it hath a verie long ende, and much matter dependeth thereon.

=Pam.= What forceth it for the length, so it be pleasant & swéete vnto you.

=Ma.= I loue you so well that I woulde not haue you doe that, whereof you should herafter repent & beshrew your self.

=Pa.= I pray you neuer speake of any repentance.

=Ma.= Peraduenture you shoulde otherwise esteme of me, when eyther age or sicknesse shall chaunge this fourme or fauour.

=Pam.= Why? this body of myne (O my déere) shall not alwayes continue in this estate, thus prest and lustie, but I respect not so muche this flourishing and bewtifull house, as I doe him that dwelleth therein.

=Maria.= What meane you by that you speak of him that dwelleth within?

=Pam.= Verily, I meane your well disposed and vertuous minde, whose beawtie alwayes encreaseth with age.

=Ma.= What, your sight is yet more pleasant than _Linx_, if you can espie that, through so many couerings.

=Pam.= Yea certes with my mind I doe right well espie your minde: moreouer (I saye) in those children which God shall sende vs, wée shall as it were, ware yong againe.

=Maria.= But in the meane time virginitie is lost.

=Pam.= Truth, in good faith, tell me if you had a goodly orchyarde plat, whether woulde you with nothing should therein grow but blossomes, or else had you rather (the blossomes fallen awaye) beholde your trées fraught and laden with pleasaunt fruite?

=Maria.= Howe sliely he reasoneth.

=Pam.= At the least aunswere me to this: whether is it a better sight for a Vine to lye vppon the grounde and rot, or the same to embrace a poale, or an elme, and lode it full with purple grapes?

=Maria.= Now sir aunswere me to this againe, whether is it a more pleasant sight a Rose trim and milkewhite, yet growing on his stalk, or the same plucked with the hande, and by little and little withering awaye?

=Pam.= Certes in mine opinion the rose is the happiest, and commeth to the better ende, which withereth and dieth in the hande of man, delighting in the meane while both the eies and nosethrils, than thother which withereth on the bush, for there muste it néedes wither also at length, euen as that wine hath better luck which is drunken, than that which standeth still, and is turned into vinigar. And yet the flowring beautie of a woman doth not decay forthwith as soone as she is maried, for I knowe some my selfe, who before they were maried, were pale colored, faint, and as it were pined away, who by the friendly felowship of an husband, haue wared so faire, and welfauoured, that you would think they neuer came to the flower of their beautie till then.

=Ma.= But for all your saying, virginity is a thing much beloued and lyked with all men.

=Pam.= I graunt you, a yong woman, a virgine, is a fayre, & goodly thing, but what by course of kind is more vnseemly thā an old wrinkled maide: Had not your mother bene contented to lose that flower of hir virginitie, surely we had not had this flower of your beautie. So that in case (as I hope) our mariage be not barren, for the losse of one virgine we shall paye God manye.

=Ma.= But they saye chastitie is a thing wherein God is much delighted.

=Pam.= And therefore doe I desire to couple my selfe in mariage with a chast mayden, that with hir I may leade a chaste life. As for our mariage it shall rather be a mariage of our minds, than of our bodies, we shall increase vnto Christ, we shall increase vnto the cōmon welth. How little shall this matrimonie differ frō virginitie? & peraduenture hereafter we shall so liue togither, as blessed Marie liued with Joseph, no man cometh at the first to perfection.

=Maria.= What is that I heard you say euen now, must virginity be violated and lost, therby to learn chastitie?

=Pam.= Whye not, euen as by drinking of wine moderately, we learn by little and little to forbeare wine vtterlye, which of these two seemeth vnto thée to be more temperat, he that sitting in the mids of many daintie dishes, abstaineth from them all, or he which forbeareth intemperauncie, hauing none occasiō to moue him vnto the same?

=Ma.= I suppose him to haue the more confirmed habite of temperance whom plentie alwayes prest can not corrupt.

=Pam.= Whether deserueth more the prayse of chastitie, he that geldeth him selfe, or he which kéeping his members all and sounde abstaineth from all womans companie?

=Ma.= Verily by my consent the latter shal haue the praise of chastitie, that other of mad follie.

=Pam.= Why? those which by vowe haue abiured matrimonye doe they not after a sort gelde themselues?

=Maria.= Verily it séemeth so.

=Pam.= Thus you sée, it is no vertue to forbeare womens companie.

=Maria.= Is it no vertue?

=Pam.= Marke me this, if it were simplye a vertue to forbeare the companie of a woman, then shoulde it be also a vice to vse the companie of a woman, but sometime it befalleth that it is sin to refuse the acte, and a vertue to vse it.

=Ma.= In what case is it so?

=Pam.= In case the husband requireth of his wife the debt of marriage, euen so often as he shall do it, especially if he requireth it for the desire of generation.

=Ma.= But what if he be fleshfond and wanton, may she not lawfully denie it him?

=Pam.= She maye admonish him of his fault and rather gently perswade him to bridle hys affections, to giue him a flat nay when he straineth vpon hir, she may not. Albeit I here verie fewe men complaine of their wyfes vncurtesie this way.

=Ma.= Yet mée thinks libertie is swéete.

=Pam.= Nay rather virginitie is a heauie burthen. I shall be to you a King, and you shall be to me a Quéene. And eyther of vs shall rule the familie, as we thinke good, take you thys to be a bondage?

=Ma.= The common sort calleth mariage an halter.

=Pam.= Now on my fayth they are well worthie an halter that so termeth it. Tell me I praye you is not your soule bounde vnto your body?

=Ma.= I thinke so.

=Pam.= Yea surely euen as a bird vnto hir cage, & yet if ye should aske him the question, whether he would bée loosed or no, I suppose he would saye nay. And why so? bicause he is willinglie and gladlie bounde therevnto.

=Ma.= We haue little to take to neither of vs both.

=Pam.= So much the lesse indaungered to fortune are wee, that little you shall encrease at home wyth sauing, which as they counteruayleth a great reuenue, and I abroad with diligence.

=Ma.= An houshold of children bringeth innumerable cares.

=Pam.= On the other side agayne, the same children bringeth infinite pleasures, and oftentimes requiteth the parentes naturall paines to the vttermost, with great ouerplusse.

=Ma.= Then to lead a barren life in marriage is a great miserie.

=Pam.= Why are you not now barraine? tell me whether had ye rather neuer be borne, or borne to die.

=Ma.= Certes I had rather be borne to die.

=Pam.= So that barrainnesse is yet more miserable which neyther hadde, nor shall haue child, euen as they be more happie which haue alreadie lyued, then they which neuer haue, nor shall hereafter be borne to liue.

=Ma.= And what be those, I praye you which neyther are, nor shall be.

=Pam.= For he that cannot finde in his hart to suffer and abide the chaunges, & chaunces, whervnto all we indifferently be subiect, as well men of poore estate, as Kings, & Emperours, he is not to dwell here, let him get him out of this worlde. And yet, whatsoeuer shal mischaunce vnto vs two, yours shoulde be but the one halfe thereof, the greater parte I will alwaies take vnto mine owne selfe. So that if anie good thing doe happen vnto vs oure pleasure shall be dubble if anye euill betide vs, you shall haue but the one halfe of the griefe, and I the other. As for my selfe, if God so woulde, it were vnto me a pleasure, euen to ende my life in your armes.

=Ma.= Men can better sustaine and beare with y^t which chaunceth according to the common course and rule of nature. For I sée that some parentes are more troubled wyth their childrens euill manners, than with their naturall deathes.

=Pam.= To preuent such misfortune, that it happen not vnto vs, it resteth for the most part in our power.

=Ma.= How so?

=Pam.= For commonly parentes, which bée good and vertuous, haue good & vertuous children, I meane as concerning their natural disposition, for doues do not hatch Puthockes: wherefore we will first indeuour to bée good our selues, and oure next care shall bée, that our children may euen from the mothers brest, be seasoned with vertuous counsails, and right opinions, for it skilleth not a little what licour you poure into a newe vessell at the first. Finallye, we shall prouide that they may haue euen at home in our house a good example of lyfe to followe.

=Ma.= Harde it is to bring that to passe that you say.

[Sidenote: Difficiliaque pulchra. _Godly things be harde._]

=Pam.= No maruaile, for commendable, and good it is. And for that also are you harde to bée entreated and wonne, the more deficile and harde it is, the more good will and indeuour shall wée put there vnto.

=Maria.= You shall haue mée a matter soft and plyant, sée you y^t you do your part in forming and shaping me as you ought.

=Pam.= But in the meane while saye those thrée wordes which I require of you.

Ma.= Nothing were more easie for me to doe, but wordes be wynged, and when they be flowen out once doe not retire, I will tell you what were a better way for vs both. You shall treate with your Parentes and myne, and with their will and consent let the matter be concluded.

=Pam.= Ah you set me to wooe againe, it is in you, with thrée words to dispatch the whole matter.

=Ma.= Whether it lyeth in mée so to doe (as you say) I knowe not, for I am not at liberty. And in olde time mariages were not concluded without the will & consent of their parents or elders. But howsoeuer the case be, I suppose our mariage shall bée the more luckie, if it be made by the authoritie of our parents. And your part it is to seke and craue the good will, for vs to doe it, it were vnséemelye: virginite would séeme alwayes to be taken with violence, yea though sometime we loue the partie most earnestly.

=Pam.= I wil not let to séeke their good will, so that I may alwayes be in an assurance of your consent.

=Ma.= You néede not doubt thereof, be of good chéere (my _Pamphile_)

=Pam.= You are herein more scrupulus yet then I woulde wish you to be.

=Ma.= Nay marie, waye, and consider you well with your selfe, before, whervnto you haue set your minde and will. And do not take into your counsaile, this blind affection borne towardes my person, but rather reason, for that which affection decerneth is liked for a reasō, but that which reason auiseth is neuer mislyked.

=Pam.= Certes thou speakest like a wittie wench; wherefore I intende to followe thy counsayle.

=Ma.= You shall not repent you thereof, but how he sirha there is now fallen into my minde a doubt, which vexeth mée sore.

=Pam.= Away with all such doubtes for Gods sake.

=Ma.= Why will you haue me marry my selfe to a dead man.

=Pam.= Not so, for I will reuiue againe.

=Maria.= Now, loe you haue voided this doubt, fare yee well my _Pamphile_.

=Pam.= See you I pray that I may so doe.

=Ma.= I pray God giue you a good night, why fetch you such a sighe man?

=Pam.= A good night say you? I woulde to God you would vouchsafe to giue me that, which you wishe mee.

=Ma.= Soft and faire, I pray you your haruest is as yet but in the greene blade.

=Pam.= Shall I haue nothing of yours wyth me at my departure.

=Ma.= Take this Pomander to chéere your harte wyth.

=Pam.= Yet giue me a kisse withal I pray thee.

=Ma.= I would kéepe my virginitie whole, and vndefiled for you.

=Pam.= Why doth a kisse take ought away from your virginitie?

=Ma.= Would you thinke it well done that I shoulde be frée of kisses vnto other men.

=Pam.= Nay marrie I would haue my kisses spared for my selfe.

=Ma.= I keepe them for you then. And yet there is an other thing in y^e way, which maketh me that I dare not at thys time giue you a kisse.

=Pam.= What is that.

=Ma.= You saye that your soule is alreadie gone well néere altogither into my body, and a very small parte thereof taryeth behinde in your owne, so that I feare in time of a kisse, that which remayneth might happen to sterte out after it, & then were you altogither without a soule. Haue you therefore my right hande in token of mutuall loue, and so fare you well. Go you earnestly about your matters. And I for my part in the meane while, shall pray vnto Christ, that the thing which you do, may be vnto the ioy and felicitie of vs both. Amen

* * * * *

Of the yong man and the _euill disposed woman_.

=Lucrecia.= =Sophronius.=

Iesu mercy my olde louing Frynde _Sophronius_, are you at length come againe vnto vs? nowe mee thinkes you haue beene awaye euen a worlde space, Truelye at the first blushe I scarce knewe you.

=Sophronius.= And why so myne olde acquanintaunce _Lucres_?

=Lucres.= Why so? bicause at your departing you had no berd at al, now you become a handsome beardling. But what is the matter my sweete harte: for me thinks you are waxed more sterne and graue countenaunced then to fore you had wont.

=Sophronius.= I would gladly talke with you friendlye in some place aparte from all companye.

=Lucres.= Why are we not here alone (my luste?)

=Sophronius.= No, let vs go our selues into some place yet more secret and priuie.

=Lu.= Be it so, let vs go into my inwarde chamber, if ought you list to doe.

=Sophronius.= Yet mee thinketh this place is not close & secret ynough.

=Lucres.= Why? whence comes this new shamefastnesse vpon you. I haue a Closet wherein I lay vp my Iewels and array, a place so darke that vnneth the one of vs shall see the other.

=So.= Looke round about it, if there be any crany or rifte.

=Lu.= Here is not a cranye nor rifte to be seene.

=So.= Is there no body neere that mought listen and here vs?

=Lu.= No verily not a flie (my ioy) why doubt you? Why go you not about your purpose?

=So.= Shall wee here beguile the eies of God?

=Lu.= Not so, for he seeth thorow all things?

=So.= Or shall wee be out of the sight of his Aungels?

=Lu.= Neyther, for no bodie can hide him out of their sight.

=So.= How happeneth it then, that we be not ashamed to doe that before the eies of God, and in the presence of his holy Aungels, which wee woulde be ashamed to doe in the syght of men?

=Lu.= What a strange thing is this, came you hither to preache? put yee on, one of Saint Francis cowles, and get ye vp into the Pulpit, and let vs heare you there my yong Beardling.

=So.= Neither would I thinke it much so to doe, if by that meane I might call you backe from thys kind of life, not only most foule & shameful, but also most miserable.

=Lu.= And why so good sir? I must get my liuing one way or other, euery man liueth and is maintained by his craft, & science, this is our trade our lands and reuenues.

=So.= I would to God (good friende _Lucres_) that you, voyding for a while this dronkennesse of the mynde, coulde finde in your heart rightly to ponder and consider with me, the thing as it is.

=Lu.= Keepe your sermond till an other time, nowe let vs take our pleasure (my good friende _Sophronie_).

=So.= All that you doe, you doe it for lucre and gaines I am sure.

=Lu.= Therin you haue gone nere the marke.

=So.= Well, you shall loose no parte of that, which you make your accompt vppon, I will giue you euen foure times as much onely, to lend me your attentiue care.

=Lu.= Say on then euen what you please.

=So.= First aunswere me to this. Haue you any that beareth you euill wil?

=Lu.= Mo then one.

=So.= And are there not some againe, whome you hate likewise?

=Lu.= Euen as they deserue at my hande.

=So.= Now if it lay in thee to pleasure them wouldest thou in faith do it?

=Lu.= Nay sooner woulde I giue them their bane.

=So.= Verie well, consider now, consider I saye whither ought thou mayest doe to them more pleasaunt and better lyked, then to let them see thee leade this maner of lyfe, so shamefull and wretched. On the other side, what canst thou do more to the griefe and misliking of them, which be thy verye friendes in deede?

=Lu.= Such was my lot, and destinie.

=So.= Moreouer, that which is compted to be the most harde, and heauie happe of those which are cast out into Ilands, or banished vnto the people most inhumaine and barbarous, the same haue you of your owne free will, and election, taken vnto your selfe.

=Lu.= And what is that?

=So.= Hast not thou of thine accorde renounced & forsaken all naturall affections and loues, your father, mother, brethren, sistrene, aunt, great aunt, & whomsoeuer beside nature hath linked vnto thee for they in verye deede, are full euill ashamed of thee, and thou darest not once come into their sight.

=Lu.= Naye marrye, mee thinkes I haue luckilye chaunged myne affectes, in that for a few louers, nowe I haue won me verie many, among whome you are one, whome I haue accompted off as my naturall brother.

=So.= Let passe this light accustomed talke, & way the matter as it is, in earnest. And first beleeue mee this (my _Lucres_) shee that hath so many louers, hath no loue at all. They that resort vnto thee, doe not take thee for their loue, but rather for their luste, see howe thou hast debased thy selfe wretched Woman. Christ helde thee so deere, that hee vouchsafed to redeeme thee with his most precious bloud, to the ende, thou mightest partake with him in his heauenlye kingdome. And thou makest thy selfe a cõmon Gonge, or muckhill wherevnto fowle and filthy, scalde, and scuruie, doth at their pleasure resort, to shake off their filth and corruption. That if thou be yet free and not infected wyth that lothsome kinde of leprie, commonly called the french pockes, assure thy selfe thou cannot long be wythout it. Which if it chaunce thee to haue, what in more miserable and wretched case then thou, yea, though other things were as thou wouldst wish (I meane) thy substance and fame, what shalt thou then be, but a lump of quick carraine: you thought it a great matter to be obedient vnto your mother, now you liue in seruitude, vnder a filthie bawde. It went to your heart to heare the good aduertisements of your father, here you must often tymes take in good parte, euen the stripes of dronkardes, and madbraines, you coulde awaye with no maner of worke, when you were with your friendes, to helpe towardes your lyuing, but in this place what trouble, what continuall watcking are you faine to sustaine?

=Lu.= From whence (and God will) coms this new prating preacher.