lute, both for beauty and virtue'? let such as have been stung with the scorpion be warned: speak thou as thou findest, and then thoú wilt say, that women are creatures, as excellent in mind, as they be singular in complexion: as far beyond men in inward virtues, as they exceed men in exterior beauties!

"I grant all this: yet, PHILIPPO, the juice of the hellebore is poison; the greener the alisander leaves be, the more bitter is the sap; every outward appearance is not an authentical instance: women have chaste eyes, when they have wanton thoughts; and modest looks, when they harbour lascivious wishes: the eagle, when he soareth nearest to the sun, then he hovers for his prey the salamander is most warm, when he lieth furthest from the fire: and then are women most heart-hollow, when they are most lip-holy! And by these premises, PHILIPPO, argue of thy wife's preciseness; for though she seem chaste, yet may she secretly delight in change; and though her countenance be coy to all, yet her conscience may be courteous to some one when the sun shines most garish, it foreshews a shower; when the birds sing early, there is a storm before night; women's flatteries are no more to be trusted than an astronomer's almanack, that proclaimeth that for a most fair day, that proves most cloudy; and so of PHILOMELA."

As thus as the Count PHILIPPO was jarring with himself about this humour of jealousy, there came to him while he sat (for all this while he was in an arbour in his garden) a familiar friend of his, called Seignior GIOVANNI LUTESIO, SO private unto the Earl in all his secret affairs, that he concealed nothing from him which came within the compass of his thoughts. This Seignior GIOVANNI seeing the Count in a brown study, wakened him out of his muse

with a merry greeting, and bade a penny for his thought. The Earl seeing his second self, his only repository of his private passions, entertained him very courteously, and, after some familiar speeches used betwixt them, GIOVANNI began to question what the cause was of that melancholy dump that he found him in. The Earl fetching a great sigh, taking LUTESIO by the hand, setting him down by him, began to rehearse from point to point what a jealous suspicion he had of his wife's beauty, and that for all the shew of her honesty, he somewhat doubted of her chastity.

GIOVANNI, Who with a reverend love favoured the Countess, began somewhat sharply to reprove the Earl, that he should admit of so foolish a passion as jealousy, and misconstrue of her whose virtuous life was so famous through all Venice. As suspicious heads want not sophistry to supply their mistrust', so PHILIP at that time was not barren of arguments, to prove the subtlety of women; their inconstancy; how they were faced like Janus, having one full of furrows, the other of smiles, swearing, he should never be merry at his heart, till he had made an assured proof of her chastity. And with that he broke with Seignior GIOVANNI LUTESIO, that he should be the man to make experience of her honesty, although the gentleman was very unwilling to take such a task in hand, doubting, lest in dallying with the flame, he might burn his finger, and so injure his friend. Yet, at the importunate entreaty of PHILIPPO, he promised to undertake the matter, and by all means possible to assault the invincible fort of her chastity; protesting, that if he found her pliant to listen to his passions, he would make it manifest to him without dissembling.

PHILIPPO glad of this, to grant GIOVANNI Opportunity to court his wife, would be more often abroad; and that he might drive her the sooner to listen unto his suit, he used not that wonted love and familiarity that he was accustomed to do, but quitted all her dutiful favours with uncouth and disdainful frowns, so that poor PHILOMELA, who knew nothing of his compacted treachery, began to wonder what had altered her husband's wonted humour; and like a good wife she began to examine her own conscience, wherein she had given him any occasion of offence. Feeling herself guiltless (unless his own conceit deceived him) she imagined that her husband affected some other lady more than herself; which imagination she concealed with patience, and resolved not, by revealing it, to retrieve him from his new entertained fancy, but with obedience, love and silence' to recover her PHILIPPO to favour none but his PHILOMELA.

While thus her mind a little suspicious began to waver, LuTESIO began to lay his baits to betray this silly innocent. Now you must imagine, he was a young Gentleman of a good house, of no mean wealth, nor any way made unfortunate by nature, for he was counted the most fine and courtly gentleman in all Venice. This LUTESIO therefore seeking fit opportunity to find Madam PHILOMELA in a merry vein (for time is called that capillata ministra, that favours lovers in their fortunes) watched so narrowly, that he found the Countess sitting alone in her garden, playing upon a lute many pretty roundelays, borginets, madrigals, and such pleasant lessons, all as it were, amorous love, vowed in honour of Venus; singing to her lute many pretty and merry ditties, some of her own composing, and some written by some witty gentlemen of Venice ;

thinking now time had smiled upon him, by putting her in such an humorous vein. At last he heard her warble out this pleasant ode.

PHILOMELA'S ODE THAT SHE SUNG IN HER ARBOUR.

Sitting by a river's side,

Where a silent stream did glide,
Muse I did of many things,
That the mind in quiet brings.
I 'gan think how some men deem
Gold their god; and some esteem
Honour is the chief content,

That to man in life is lent.
And some others do contend,
Quiet none, like to a friend.
Others hold, there is no wealth
Compared to a perfect health.
Some man's mind in quiet stands,
When he is lord of many lands:
But I did sigh, and said all this
Was but a shade of perfect bliss:
And in my thoughts I did approve,
Nought so sweet as is true love.
Love 'twixt lovers passeth these,

When mouth kisseth and heart 'grees,

With folded arms and lips meeting,

Each soul another sweetly greeting.

For by the breath the soul fleeteth,

And soul with soul in kissing meeteth.

If Love be so sweet a thing,

That such happy bliss doth bring,
Happy is Love's sugar'd thrall,

But unhappy maidens all,

Who esteem your virgin's blisses,

Sweeter than a wife's sweet kisses.

No such quiet to the mind,

As true love with kisses kind.

But if a kiss prove unchaste,

Then is true love quite disgrac❜d.

Though love be sweet, learn this of me,

No love sweet but honesty.

As soon as PHILOMELA had ended her ode, Seignior LUTESIO stepped to her, and half marred her melody with this unlooked for motion: "I am glad, Madam, to find you so full of glee; women's minds set on mirth shews their thoughts are at quiet: when birds sing early, there hath been a sweet dew; so your morning's anthem shews your night's content; the subject of your song, and the censure of my thoughts argue upon conclusion: for likely it is, you have found kissing sweet, that so highly commend it; but as the old proverb is, such laugh as win; and such as Venus favours may afford her incense. Love is precious to such as possess their love; but there is no hell, if love be not hell, to such as dare not express their passions'."

PHILOMELA Seeing LUTESIO took her napping in singing so merry an ode, shewed in the blush of her cheeks, the bashfulness of her thoughts; yet knowing he was her husband's familiar, she cared the less, and smiling, made him this pleasant answer: Seignior LUTESIO, as I relished a wanton song at random, so I little looked your ears should have been troubled with my music; but since

1 Fire that is closest kept, burns most of all.

Two Gentlemen of Verona.

Fell Sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more,
Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore.

Shakesp. Rich. II.

Silence in love denotes more woe,

Than words, tho' ne'er so witty.

Raleigh.

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