Part 2

I am not of that ſeard _Impudence_ that I dare defend _Women_, or pronounce them good; yet we ſee _Phyſitians_ allow ſome _vertue_ in every _poyſon_. Alas! why ſhould we except _Women_? ſince certainely, they are good for _Phyſicke_ at leaſt, ſo as ſome _wine_ is good for a _feaver_. And though they be the _Occaſioners_ of many ſinnes, they are alſo the _Puniſhers_ and _Revengers_ of the ſame ſinnes: For I have ſeldome ſeene one which conſumes his _ſubſtance_ and _body_ upon them, eſcape _diſeaſes_, or _beggery_; and this is their _Iuſtice._ And if _ſuum cuiq; dare_, bee the fulfilling of all _Civill Iuſtice_, they are _moſt juſt_; for they deny that which is theirs to no man.

_Tanquam non liceat nulla puella negat._

And who may doubt of great wiſdome in them, that doth but obſerve with how much labour and cunning our _Iuſticers_ and other _diſpenſers_ of the _Lawes_ ſtudy to imbrace them: and how zealouſly our _Preachers_ dehort men from them, onely by urging their _ſubtilties_, and _policies_, and _wiſedome_, which are in them? Or who can deny them a good meaſure of _Fortitude_, if hee conſider how _valiant men_ they have overthrowne, and being themſelves overthrowne, how much and how patiently they _beare_? And though they bee moſt _intemperate_, I care not, for I undertooke to furniſh them with _ſome vertue_, not with _all_. _Neceſſity_, which makes even bad things good, prevailes alſo for them, for wee muſt ſay of them, as of ſome ſharpe pinching _Lawes_; If men were free from _infirmities_, they were needleſſe. Theſe or none muſt ſerve for _reaſons_, and it is my great happineſſe that _Examples_ prove not _Rules_, for to confirme this _Opinion_, the World yeelds not _one Example._

[Decoration]

7.

_That Old men are more fantaſtike then Young._

Who reads this _Paradox_ but thinks mee more _fantaſtike_ now, than I was yeſterday, when I did not think thus: And if one day make this ſenſible change in men, what will the burthen of many yeeres? To bee _fantaſtike_ in _young men_ is _conceiptfull diſtemperature_, and a _witty madneſſe_; but in _old men_, whoſe ſenſes are withered, it becomes _naturall_, therefore more full and perfect. For as when wee _ſleepe_ our _fancy_ is moſt ſtrong; ſo it is in _age_, which is a _ſlumber_ of the _deepe ſleepe of death_. They taxe us of _Inconſtancy_, which in themſelves _young_ they allowed; ſo that reprooving that which they did approove, their _Inconſtancy_ exceedeth ours, becauſe they have changed _once more_ then wee. Yea, they are more idlely buſied in _conceited apparell_ then wee; for we, when we are _melancholy_, weare _blacke_; when _luſty_, _greene_; when _forſaken_, _tawney_; pleaſing our owne _inward_ affections, leaving them to others indifferent; but they preſcribe _lawes_, and conſtraine the _Noble_, the _Scholer_, the _Merchant_, and all _Eſtates_ to a certaine _habit_. The _old men_ of our time have changed with patience their owne _bodies_, much of their _lawes_, much of their _languages_; yea their _Religion_, yet they accuſe us. To be _Amorous_ is proper and _naturall_ in a _young man_, but in an _old man_ most _fantaſtike_. And that _ridling humour_ of _Iealouſie_, which ſeekes and would not finde, which requires and repents his knowledge, is in them moſt common, yet moſt _fantaſtike_. Yea, that which falls never in _young men_, is in them moſt _fantaſtike_ and _naturall_, that is, _Covetouſneſſe_; even at their _journeyes end_ to make great proviſion. Is any _habit_ of _young men_ ſo _fantaſtike_, as in the hotteſt ſeaſons to be _double-gowned_ or _hooded_ like our _Elders_? Or ſeemes it ſo _ridiculous_ to weare long haire, as to weare _none_. Truely, as among the _Philoſophers_, the _Skeptike_, which _doubts all_, was more contentious, then either the _Dogmatike_ which _affirmes_, or _Academike_ which _denyes all_; ſo are theſe uncertaine _Elders_, which both cals them _fantaſtike_ which follow others _inventions_, and them alſo which are led by their owne humorous ſuggeſtion, more _fantaſtike_ then other.

[Decoration]

8.

_That Nature is our worſt Guide._

Shal ſhe be _guide_ to all _Creatures_, which is her ſelfe one? Or if ſhe alſo have a _guide_, ſhall any _Creature_ have a better guide then wee? The affections of _luſt_ and _anger_, yea even to _erre_ is _naturall_; ſhall we follow theſe? Can ſhee be a good _guide_ to us, which hath corrupted not us onely but her ſelfe? Was not the _firſt man_, by the deſire of _knowledge_, corrupted even in the _whiteſt integrity_ of _Nature_? And did not _Nature_ (if _Nature_ did any thing) infuſe into him this deſire of _knowledge_, and ſo this _corruption_ in him, into us? If by _Nature_ wee ſhall underſtand our _eſſence_, our _definition_, or _reaſon_, _nobleneſſe_, then this being alike common to all (the _Idiot_ and the _Wizard_ being equally _reaſonable_) why ſhould not all men having equally all one _nature_, follow one courſe? Or if we ſhall underſtand our _inclinations_; alas! how unable a guide is that which followes the _temperature_ of our ſlimie _bodies_? for we cannot ſay that we derive our _inclinations_, our _mindes_, or _ſoules_ from our _Parents_ by any way: to ſay that it is _all from all_, is _error_ in _reaſon_, for then with the firſt nothing remaines; or is a _part from all_, is _errour_ in _experience_, for then this _part_ equally imparted to many children, would like _Gavel-kind lands_, in few generations become nothing; or to ſay it by _communication_, is _errour_ in _Divinity_, for to communicate the _ability_ of communicating _whole eſſence_ with any but God, is utter _blaſphemy_. And if thou hit thy _Fathers nature_ and _inclination_, he alſo had his _Fathers_, and ſo climbing up, all comes of one man, and have one _nature_, all ſhall imbrace one courſe; but that cannot bee, therefore our _complexions_ and whole _bodies_, wee inherit from _Parents_; our _inclinations_ and minds follow that: For our minde is heavy in our _bodies afflictions_, and rejoyceth in our _bodies pleaſure_: how then ſhall this _nature_ governe us, that is governed by the worſt part of us? _Nature though oft chaſed away, it will returne_; ’tis true, but thoſe _good motions_ and _inſpirations_ which be our guides muſt bee _wooed_, _courted_, and _welcomed_, or elſe they abandon us. And that old _Axiome_, _nihil invita, &c._ muſt not be ſaid thou _ſhalt_, but thou _wilt_ doe nothing againſt _Nature_; ſo _unwilling_ he notes us to curbe our _naturall appetites_. Wee call our _baſtards_ alwayes our _naturall iſſue_, and we define a _Foole_ by nothing ſo ordinary, as by the name of _naturall_. And that poore knowledge whereby we conceive what _raine_ is, what _wind_, what _thunder_, wee call _Metaphyſicke, ſupernaturall_; ſuch _ſmall_ things, ſuch _no_ things doe we allow to our pliant _Natures_ apprehenſion. Laſtly, by following her, we loſe the pleaſant, and lawfull commodities of this life, for wee ſhall drinke water and eate rootes, and thoſe not ſweet and delicate, as now by Mans _art_ and _induſtry_ they are made: we ſhall loſe all the neceſſities of _ſocieties_, _lawes_, _arts_, and _ſciences_, which are all the workemanſhip of _Man_: yea we ſhall lack the laſt _beſt refuge_ of miſery, _death_; becauſe _no death is naturall_: for if yee will not dare to call all _death violent_ (though I ſee not why _ſickneſſes_ be not _violences_) yet _cauſes_ of all _deaths_ proceed of the _defect_ of that which _nature_ made perfect, and would preſerve, and therefore all againſt _nature_.

[Decoration]

9.

_That only Cowards dare dye._

_Extreames_ are equally removed from the _meane_; ſo that headlong _deſperateneſſe_ aſmuch offends true _valour_, as backward _Cowardice_: of which ſort I reckon juſtly all _un-inforced deaths_. When will your _valiant_ man dye of neceſſity? ſo _Cowards_ ſuffer what cannot be avoided: and to runne into _death unimportun’d_, is to runne into the firſt condemned deſperateneſſe. Will he dye when he is _rich_ and _happy_? then by living he may doe more good: and in _afflictions_ and _miſeries_, _death_ is the choſen refuge of _Cowards_.

_Fortiter ille facit, qui miſer eſſe poteſt._

But it is taught and practiſed among our _Galants_, that rather than our reputations ſuffer any _maime_, or we any _miſery_, wee ſhall offer our _breſts_ to the _Cannons_ mouth, yea to our _ſwords_ points: And this ſeemes a very _brave_ and a very _climbing_ (which is a _Cowardly_, earthly, and indeed a very _groveling_) _ſpirit_. Why doe they _chaine_ theſe ſlaves to the _Gallyes_, but that they thruſt their _deaths_, and would at every looſe leape into the _ſea_? Why doe they take weapons from _condemned_ men, but to barre them of that eaſe which _Cowards_ affect, _a ſpeedy death_. Truely this _life_ is a _tempeſt_, and a _warfare_, and he which _dares dye_, to eſcape the _anguiſh_ of it, ſeems to mee, but ſo _valiant_, as hee which dares _hang_ himſelfe, leſt hee be _preſt_ to the _warres_. I have ſeene one in that extremity of _melancholy_, which was then become _madneſſe_, to make his owne _breath_ an _Inſtrument_ to ſtay his breath, and labour to choake himſelfe, but alas! he was _mad_. And we knew another that languiſhed under the _oppreſſion_ of a poore _diſgrace_ ſo much, that hee tooke more _paines to dye_, then would have ſerved to have nouriſhed _life_ and _ſpirit_ enough to have outlived his _diſgrace_. What _Foole_ will call this _Cowardlineſſe_, _Valour_? or this _Baſeneſſe_, _Humility_? And laſtly, of theſe men which dye the _Allegoricall death_ of entring into _Religion_, how few are found fit for any ſhew of _valiancy_? but onely a _ſoft_ and _ſupple metall_, made onely for _Cowardly_ ſolitarineſſe.

[Decoration]

10.

_That a Wiſe Man is knowne by much laughing._

_Ride, ſi ſapis, ô puella ride_; If thou beeſt _wiſe_, _laugh_: for ſince the _powers_ of _diſcourſe_, _reaſon_, and _laughter_, bee equally _proper_ unto Man onely, why ſhall not hee be onely moſt _wiſe_, which hath moſt uſe of _laughing_, aſwell as he which hath moſt of _reaſoning_ and _diſcourſing_? I alwaies did, and ſhall underſtand that _Adage_;

_Per riſum multum poſſis cognoſcere ſtultum_,

That by much _laughing_ thou maiſt know there is a _foole_, not, that the _laughers_ are _fooles_, but that among them there is ſome _foole_, at whome _wiſemen_ laugh: which moved _Eraſmus_ to put this as his firſt _Argument_ in the mouth of his _Folly_, that _ſhee made Beholders laugh_: for _fooles_ are the moſt laughed at, and laugh the leaſt themſelves of any. And _Nature_ ſaw this _faculty_ to bee ſo neceſſary in man, that ſhee hath beene content that by _more cauſes_ we ſhould be importuned to _laugh_, then to the _exerciſe_ of any other _power_; for things in themſelves utterly _contrary_, beget this effect; for wee laugh both at _witty_ and _abſurd_ things: At both which ſorts I have ſeen Men _laugh ſo long_, and _ſo earneſtly_, that at laſt they have _wept_ that they could laugh no more. And therfore the _Poet_ having deſcribed the quietneſſe of a _wiſe retired man_, ſaith in one, what we have ſaid before in many lines; _Quid facit Canius tuus? ridet_. We have received that even the _extremity_ of _laughing_, yea of _weeping_ alſo, hath beene accounted _wiſedome_: And that _Democritus_ and _Heraclitus_, the _lovers_ of theſe _Extremes_, have been called _lovers of wiſedome_. Now among our _wiſemen_ I doubt not, but many would be found who would laugh at _Heraclitus_ weeping, none which weepe at _Democritus_ laughing. At the hearing of _Comedies_ or other witty reports, I have noted ſome, which not underſtanding _jeſts_, &c. have yet choſen this as the beſt meanes to ſeeme _wiſe_ and _underſtanding_, to laugh when their _Companions laugh_; and I have preſumed them _ignorant_, whom I have ſeene _unmoved_. A _foole_ if he come into a _Princes Court_, and ſee a _gay_ man leaning at the wall, ſo _gliſtering_, and ſo _painted_ in many _colours_ that he is hardly diſcerned from one of the _pictures_ in the _Arras_, hanging his _body_ like an _Iron-bound-cheſt_, girt in and thicke ribb’d with _broad gold laces_, may (and commonly doth) envy him. But alas! ſhall a _wiſeman_, which may not onely not _envy_, but not _pitty_ this _monſter_, do nothing? Yes, let him _laugh_. And if one of theſe _hot cholerike firebrands_, which nouriſh themſelves by _quarrelling_, and kindling others, ſpit upon a _foole_ one _ſparke_ of _diſgrace_, he, like a _thatcht houſe_ quickly burning, may bee _angry_; but the _wiſeman_, as _cold_ as the _Salamander_, may not onely not be _angry_ with him, but not be _ſorry_ for him; therefore let him _laugh_: ſo he ſhall be knowne a Man, becauſe he can _laugh_, a _wiſe Man_ that hee knowes at _what_ to laugh, and a _valiant Man_ that he _dares_ laugh: for he that _laughs_ is juſtly reputed more _wiſe_, then at whom it is _laughed_. And hence I thinke proceeds that which in theſe later _formall_ times I have much noted; that now when our _ſuperſtitious civility_ of _manners_ is become a mutuall _tickling flattery_ of one another, almoſt every man affecteth an _humour_ of _jeſting_, and is content to be _deject_, and to _deforme_ himſelfe, yea become _foole_ to no other _end_ that I can ſpie, but to give his _wiſe Companion_ occaſion to _laugh_: and to ſhew themſelves in _promptneſſe_ of _laughing_ is ſo great in _wiſemen_, that I thinke all _wiſemen_, if any _wiſeman_ do reade this _Paradox_, will _laugh_ both at it and me.

[Decoration]

11.

_That the gifts of the Body are better then thoſe of the Minde._

I ſay againe, that the _body_ makes the _minde_, not that it created it a _minde_, but _formes_ it a _good_ or a _bad mind_; and this _minde_ may be confounded with _ſoule_ without any violence or injuſtice to _Reaſon_ or _Philoſophy_: then the _ſoule_ it ſeemes is enabled by our _body_, not this by it. My _Body_ licenſeth my _ſoule_ to _ſee_ the Worlds _beauties_ through mine _eyes_; to _heare_ pleaſant things through mine _eares_; and affords it apt _Organs_ for the conveiance of all perceivable _delight_. But alas! my _ſoule_ cannot make any _part_, that is not of it ſelfe diſpoſed, to _ſee_ or _heare_, though without doubt ſhe be as able and as willing to ſee _behind_ as _before_. Now if my _ſoule_ would ſay, that ſhee enables any part to taſte theſe pleaſures, but is her ſelfe onely delighted with thoſe rich _ſweetneſſes_ which her _inward eyes_ and _ſenſes_ apprehend, ſhee ſhould diſſemble; for I ſee her often ſolaced with _beauties_, which ſhee ſees through mine _eyes_, and with _muſicke_ which through mine _eares_ ſhe heares. This _perfection_ then my _body_ hath, that it can impart to my _minde_ all his _pleaſures_; and my _minde_ hath ſtill many, that ſhe can neither teach my _indiſpoſed_ part her _faculties_, nor to the beſt _eſpouſed_ parts ſhew it _beauty_ of _Angels_, of _Muſicke_, of _Spheres_, whereof ſhe boaſts the _contemplation_. Are _chaſtity_, _temperance_, and _fortitude_ gifts of the _mind_? I appeale to _Phyſitians_ whether the _cauſe_ of theſe be not in the _body_, _health_ is the gift of the _body_, and _patience_ in ſickeneſſe the gift of the _minde_: then who will ſay that _patience_ is as good a happineſſe, as _health_, when wee muſt be extremely _miſerable_ to purchaſe this _happineſſe_. And for nouriſhing of _civill ſocieties_ and _mutuall love_ amongſt men, which is our _chiefe end_ while wee are men; I ſay, this _beauty_, _preſence_, and _proportion_ of the _body_, hath a more _maſculine_ force in begetting this _love_, then the _vertues_ of the _minde_: for it ſtrikes us _ſuddenly_, and poſſeſſeth us _immoderately_; when to know thoſe _vertues_ requires ſome _Iudgement_ in him which ſhall diſcerne, a _long time_ and _converſation_ betweene them. And even at _laſt_ how much of our _faith_ and _beleefe_ ſhall we be driven to beſtow, to aſſure our ſelves that theſe _vertues_ are not _counterfeited_: for it is the ſame to _be_, and _ſeeme vertuous_, becauſe that he that hath _no vertue_, can _diſſemble_ none, but he which hath a _little_, may _gild_ and _enamell_, yea and transforme much _vice_ into _vertue_: For allow a man to be _diſcreet_ and _flexible_ to _complaints_, which are great _vertuous_ gifts of the _minde_, this _diſcretion_ will be to him the _ſoule_ & _Elixir_ of all _vertues_, ſo that touched with this, even _pride_ ſhal be made _humility_; and _Cowardice_, honourable and wiſe _valour_. But in things _ſeene_ there is not this danger, for the _body_ which thou loveſt and eſteemeſt _faire_, is _faire_; certainely if it bee not _faire_ in _perfection_, yet it is _faire_ in the ſame _degree_ that thy _Iudgement_ is good. And in a _faire body_, I doe ſeldome ſuſpect a _diſproportioned minde_, and as ſeldome hope for a _good_ in a _deformed_. When I ſee a _goodly houſe_, I aſſure my ſelfe of a _worthy poſſeſſour_, from a _ruinous weather-beaten building_ I turn away, becauſe it ſeems either ſtuffed with _varlets_ as a _Priſon_, or handled by an _unworthy_ and _negligent tenant_, that ſo ſuffers the _waſte_ thereof. And truely the gifts of _Fortune_, which are _riches_, are onely _handmaids_, yea _Pandars_ of the _bodies pleaſure_; with their ſervice we nouriſh _health_, and preſerve _dainty_, and wee buy _delights_; ſo that _vertue_ which muſt be loved for _it ſelfe_, and reſpects no further _end_, is indeed _nothing_: And _riches_, whoſe _end_ is the _good_ of the _body_, cannot be ſo _perfectly good_, as the _end_ whereto it levels.

[Decoration]

12.

_That Virginity is a Vertue._

I call not that _Virginity a vertue_, which reſideth only in the _Bodies integrity_; much leſſe if it be with a purpoſe of perpetuall keeping it: for then it is a moſt inhumane vice—But I call that _Virginity a vertue_ which is willing and deſirous to yeeld itſelfe upon honeſt and lawfull termes, when juſt reaſon requireth; and untill then, is kept with a modeſt chaſtity of Body and Mind. Some perchance will say that _Virginity_ is in us by _Nature_, and therefore no _vertue_. True, as it is in us by _Nature_, it is neither a _Vertue_ nor _Vice_, and is onely in the body: (as in Infants, Children, and such as are incapable of parting from it). But that _Virginity_ which is in Man or Woman of perfect age, is not in them by _Nature_: _Nature_ is the greateſt enemy to it, and with moſt ſubtile allurements ſeeks the over-throw of it, continually beating againſt it with her _Engines_, and giving ſuch forcible aſſaults to it, that it is a ſtrong and more then ordinary _vertue_ to hold out till marriage. _Ethick_ Philoſophy ſaith, _That no Vertue is corrupted, or is taken away by that which is good_: Hereupon ſome may ſay, that _Virginity_ is therefore no vertue, being taken away by marriage. _Virginity_ is no otherwiſe taken away by marriage, then is the light of the ſtarres by a greater light (the light of the Sun:) or as a leſſe Title is taken away by a greater: (an Eſquire by being created an Earle) yet _Virginity_ is a _vertue_, and hath her Throne in the middle: The extreams are, in _Exceſſe_; to violate it before marriage; in defect, not to marry. In ripe years as ſoon as reaſon perſwades, and opportunity admits, Theſe extreams are equally removed from the mean: The exceſſe proceeds from _Luſt_, the defect from _Peeviſhneſſe_, _Pride_ and _Stupidity_. There is an old Proverb, That, _they that dy maids, muſt lead Apes in Hell_. An Ape is a ridiculous and unprofitable Beaſt, whoſe fleſh is not good for meat, nor its back for burden, nor is it commodious to keep an houſe: and perchance for the unprofitableneſſe of this Beaſt did this proverb come up: For surely nothing is more unprofitable in the Commonwealth of _Nature_, then they that dy old maids, becauſe they refuſe to be uſed to that end for which they were only made. The Ape bringeth forth her young, for the moſt part by twins; that which ſhe loves beſt, ſhe killeth by preſſing it too hard: so fooliſh maids ſoothing themſelves with a falſe conceit of _vertue_, in fond obſtinacie, live and die maids; and ſo not only kill in themſelves the _vertue_ of _Virginity_, and of a Vertue make it a Vice, but they also accuſe their parents in condemning marriage. If this application hold not touch, yet there may be an excellent one gathered from an Apes tender love to Conies in keeping them from the Weaſel and Ferret. From this ſimilitude of an Ape & an old Maid did the aforeſaid proverb firſt ariſe. But alas, there are ſome old Maids that are _Virgins_ much againſt their wills, and fain would change their _Virgin-life_ for a _Married_: ſuch if they never have had any offer of fit Huſbands, are in ſome ſort excuſable, and their willingneſſe, their deſire to marry, and their forbearance from all diſhoneſt, and unlawful copulation, may be a kind of inclination to _vertue_, although not _Vertue_ it ſelfe. This _Virtue_ of _Virginity_ (though it be ſmall and fruitleſſe) it is an extraordinary, and no common _Vertue_. All other _Vertues_ lodge in the _Will_ (it is the _Will_ that makes them _vertues_.) But it is the unwillingneſſe to keep it, the deſire to forſake it, that makes this a _vertue_. As in the naturall generation and formation made of the ſeed in the womb of a woman, the body is joynted and organized about the 28 day, and so it begins to be no more an _Embrion_, but capable as a matter prepared to its form to receive the ſoule, which faileth not to inſinuate and inneſt it ſelfe into the body about the fortieth day; about the third month it hath motion and ſenſe: Even ſo _Virginity_ is an _Embrion_, an unfaſhioned lump, till it attain to a certain time, which is about twelve years of age in women, fourteen in men, and then it beginneth to have the ſoule of _Love_ infuſed into it, and to become a _vertue_: There is alſo a certain limited time when it ceaſeth to be a _vertue_, which in men is about fourty, in women about thirty years of age: yea, the loſſe of ſo much time makes their _Virginity_ a _Vice_, were not their endeavour wholly bent, and their deſires altogether fixt upon marriage: In Harveſt time do we not account it a great vice of ſloath and negligence in a Huſband-man, to overſlip a week or ten dayes after his fruits are fully ripe; May we not much more account it a more heynous vice, for a _Virgin_ to let her Fruit (_in potentia_) conſume and rot to nothing, and to let the _vertue_ of her _Virginity_ degenerate into _Vice_, (for _Virginity_ ever kept is ever loſt.) Avarice is the greateſt deadly ſin next Pride: it takes more pleaſure in hoording Treaſure then in making uſe of it, and will neither let the poſſeſſor nor others take benefit by it during the Miſers life; yet it remains intire, and when the Miſer dies muſt come to ſom body. _Virginity_ ever kept, is a vice far worſe then Avarice, it will neither let the poſſeſſor nor others take benefit by it, nor can it be bequeathed to any: with long keeping it decayes and withers, and becomes corrupt and nothing worth. Thus ſeeing that _Virginity_ becomes a vice in defect, by exceeding a limited time; I counſell all female _Virgins_ to make choyce of ſome _Paracelſian_ for their Phyſitian, to prevent the death of that _Vertue_: The _Paracelſians_ (curing like by like) ſay, That if the lives of living Creatures could be taken down, they would make us immortall. By this rule, female _Virgins_ by a diſcreet marriage ſhould ſwallow down into their _Virginity_ another _Virginity_, and devour ſuch a life & ſpirit into their womb, that it might make them as it were, immortall here on earth, beſides their perfect immortality in heaven: And that _Vertue_ which otherwiſe would putrifie and corrupt, ſhall then be compleat; and ſhall be recorded in Heaven, and enrolled here on Earth; and the name of _Virgin_ ſhall be exchanged for a far more honorable name, _A Wife_.

[Decoration]

PROBLEMES

1.

_Why have Baſtards beſt Fortune?_