The Blazing World and Other Writings (Penguin Classics) (10 page)

When the day of hearing was come, there was a bar set out, where the Duke and the two ladies stood; and after all the judges were set, the young Lady thus spake.

Grave Fathers, and most equal Judges,

I come here to plead for right, undecked with eloquence, but truth needs no rhetoric, so that my cause will justify itself: but if my cause were foul, it were not pencilled words could make it seem so fair, as to delude your understanding eye.

Besides, your Justice is so wise, as to fortify her forts with fortitude, to fill her magazine with temperance, to victual it with patience, to set sentinels of prudence, that falsehood might not surprise it, nor bribery corrupt it, nor fear starve it, nor pity undermine it, nor partiality blow it up; so that all right causes here are safe and secured from the enemies of injury and wrong. Wherefore, most reverend Fathers, if you will but hear my cause, you cannot but grant my suit.

Whereupon the judges bid her declare her cause.

Then thus it is.

I was married to this Prince; ’tis true, I was but young in years when I did knit that wedlock knot; and though a child, yet since my vows were holy, which I made by virtue and religion, I am bound to seal that sacred bond with constancy, now I am come to years of knowing of good from evil.

I am not only bound, most pious Judges, to keep my vow, in being chastely his, as long as he shall live, but to require him by the law, as a right of inheritance belonging to me, and only me, so long as I shall live, without a sharer or co-partner: so that this lady, which lays a claim, and challenges him as being her’s, can have no right to him, and therefore no law can plead for her; for should you cast aside your canon law,
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most pious Judges, and judge it by the common law,
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my suit must needs be granted, if Justice deals out right, and gives to truth her own; for should an heir, young, before he comes to years, run on the lender’s score, though the lender had no law to plead against nonage,
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yet if his nature be so just to seal the bonds he made in nonage, when he comes to full years, he makes his former act good, and fixes the law to a just grant, giving no room for cozenage
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to play a part, nor falsehood to appear. The like is my cause, most grave Fathers, for my friends chose me a husband, made a bond of matrimony, sealed it with the ceremony of the church, only they wanted my years of consent, which I, by an approvement, now set as my handwriting.

Say the judges, what says the Duke? Then the Duke thus spake.

I confess, I was contracted to this lady by all the sacred and most binding ceremonies of the church, but not with a free consent of mind; but being forced by duty to my father, who did not only command, but threatened me with his curse, he being then upon his deathbed, and I being afraid of a dying father’s curses, yielded to those actions which my affections and free will renounced; and after my father was dead, placing my affections upon another lady, married her, thinking myself not liable to the former contract, by reason the former contract was but of six years of age, whose nonage I thought was a warrantable cancel from the engagement.

Most upright Judges,

My nonage of years is not a sufficient bail to set him free, he being then of full age; nor can his fear of offending his parents, or his loving duty towards them, be a casting plea against me; his duty will not discharge his perjury, nor his fear could be no warrant to do a wrong; and if a fool by promise binds his life to inconveniencies, the laws that wise men made, must force him to keep it. And if a knave, by private and self-ends, doth make a promise, just laws must make him keep it.

And if a coward make a promise through distracted fear, laws that carry more terrors, than the broken promise, profit, will make him keep it.

But a wise, just, generous spirit will make no promise, but what he can, and durst, and will perform.

But say a promise should pass through an ignorant zeal, and seeming good, yet a right honourable and noble mind will stick so fast to its engagement, that nothing shall hew them asunder; for a promise must neither be broken upon suspicion, nor false construction, nor enticing persuasions, nor threatening ruins, but it must be maintained with life, and kept by death, unless the promise[s] carry more malignity in the keeping them, than the breaking of them.

I say not this to condemn the Duke, though I cannot applaud his secondary action concerning marriage; I know he is too noble to cancel that bond his conscience sealed before high Heaven, where angels stood as witnesses; nor can he make another contract until he is free from me; so
that his vows to this lady were rather complemental, and love’s feignings, than really true, or so authentical to last; he built affections on a wrong foundation, or rather castles in the air, as lovers use to do, which vanish soon away; for where right is not, truth cannot be; wherefore she can claim no lawful marriage, unless he were a free man, not bound before; and he cannot be free, unless he hath my consent, which I will never give.

Then the other lady spake.

Noble Judges,

This crafty, flattering, dissembling child lays a claim to my husband, who no way deserves him, she being of a low birth, and of too mean a breeding to be his wife; neither hath she any right to him in the law, she being too young to make a free choice, and to give a free consent. Besides, he doth disavow the act, by confessing the disagreeing thereto in his mind; and if she was to give a lawful consent, and his consent was seeming, not real, as being forced thereunto, it could not be a firm contract; wherefore, I beseech you, cast her suit from the bar, since it is of no validity.

Just Judges, answered she,

What though he secretly disliked of that act he made? Yet humane justice sentences not the thoughts, but acts; wherefore those words that plead his thoughts, ought to be waived as useless, and from the bar of justice cast aside.

And now, most upright Judges, I must entreat your favour and your leave to answer this lady, whose passions have flung disgraces on me, which I, without the breach of incivility, may throw them off with scorn, if you allow me so to do.

Said the Judges, we shall not countenance any disgrace, unless we knew it were a punishment for crimes; wherefore speak freely.

Why then, to answer to this lady, that I am meanly both. ’Tis true, I came not from nobility, but I can draw a line of pedigree five hundred years in length from the root of merit, from whence gentility doth spring. This honour cannot be degraded by the displeasure of princes, it holds not
the fee-simple from the crown,
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for time is the patron of gentility, and the older it groweth, the more beautiful it appears; and having such a father and mother as merit and time, gentry is fit and equal match for any, were they the rulers of the whole world.

And whereas she says, most patient Judges, I am a false dissembling child[:] I answer, as to my childhood, it is true, I am young, and inexperienced, a child in understanding, as in years; but to be young, I hope it is no crime: but if it be, ’twas made by nature, not by me. And for dissembling, I have not had time enough to practice much deceit; my youth will witness for me, it is an art, not an inbred nature, and must be studied with pains, and watched with observation, before any can be master thereof. And I hope this assembly is so just, as not to impute my innocent simplicity to a subtle, crafty, or a deceiving glass, to show the mind’s false face, making that fair, which in itself is foul. And whereas she says, I have been meanly bred, ’tis true, honoured Judges, I have been humbly bred, taught to obey superiors, and to reverence old age; to receive reproofs with thanks, to listen to wise instructions, to learn honest principles, to housewife time, making use of every minute; to be thrifty of my words, to be careful of my actions, to be modest in my behaviour, to be chaste in my thoughts, to be pious in my devotions, to be charitable to the distressed, to be courteous to inferiors, to be civil to strangers; for the truth is, I was not bred with splendrous vanities, nor learnt the pomp and pride of courts; I am ignorant of their factions, envies, and back-bitings, I know not the sound of their flattering tongues, I am unacquainted with their smiling faces, I have not wit to perceive their false hearts, my judgement is too young and too weak to fathom their deep and dangerous designs.

Neither have I lived so long in populous cities, as to share of the luxuriousness therein; I never have frequented their private nor public meetings, nor turned the day into night by disorders; I can play at none of their games, nor can I tread their measures: but I was bred a private country life, where the crowing of the cocks served as waights of the town;
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and the bleating of the sheep, and lowing of the cows, are the minstrels we dance after; and the singing of the birds are the harmonious notes by which we set our innocent thoughts, playing upon the heartstrings of content, where Nature there presents us a masque with various scenes, of several seasons of the year.

But neither low birth, nor mean breeding, nor bad qualities, nay, were I as wicked as I am young, yet it will not take away the truth of my cause, nor the justness of my plea; wherefore I desire you to give my suit a patient trial, and not to cast me from the bar, as she desires; for I hope you will not cast out my suit by an unjust partiality, nor mistake the right measure, and so cut the truth of my cause too short: but I beseech you to give it length by your serious considerations, and make it fit by your just favour; for though truth itself goeth naked, yet her servants must be clothed with right, and dressed by propriety, or they will the with the cold of usurpation, and then be flung into the ditch of sorrow, there eaten up with the ravens of scorn, having no burial of respect, nor tomb of tranquility, nor pyramids of felicity, which by your justice may raise them as high as Heaven, when your injustice may cast them as low as Hell. Thus you become to truth, gods or devils.

Madam, said the judges to the young Lady, the justice of your cause judges itself; for the severest judge, or strictest rules in law, would admit of no debate.

And truly, Madam, it is happy for us that sit upon the bench, that your cause is so clear and good, otherwise your beauty and your wit might have proved bribes to our vote: but yet there will be a fine on the Duke for the breach of the laws.

With that the Duke spake.

Most careful, learned, and just Judges, and Fathers of the Commonwealth.

I confess my fault, and yield myself a prisoner to Justice, to whom she may either use punishment or mercy: but had I known the laws of custom, religion or honour then, as well as I do now, I had not run so fast, nor plunged myself so deep in foul erroneous ways: but wild youth, surrounded with ease, and fed with plenty, born up with freedom, and led by self-will, sought pleasure more than virtue: but experience hath learned me stricter rules, and nobler principles, insomuch as the reflection of my former actions, clouds all my future happiness, wounds my conscience, and torments my life: but I shall submit to what your wise judgements shall think fit.

My Lord, answered the judges, your Grace being a great peer of the realm, we are not to condemn you to any fine, it must be the King, only we judge the Lady to be your lawful wife, and forbid you the company of the other.

Said the Duke,
I shall willingly submit.

With that, the young Lady spake.
Heaven
, said she,
send you just rewards for your upright actions: but I desire this assembly to excuse the faults of the Duke in this, since he was forced by Tyrant Love to run in uncouth ways, and do not wound him with sharp censures.

For where is he, or she, though ne’er so cold
,

But sometimes Love doth take, and fast in Fetters hold.

The Viceroy being by, said to the other lady; Madam, said he, since the law hath given away your husband, I will supply his place, if you think me so worthy, with whom perchance you may be more happy than you were with him.

I accept of your love, said she, and make no question but fortune hath favoured me in the change.

With that, the court rose, and much rejoicings there were of all sides.

In this following tale or discourse, my endeavour was to show young women the danger of travelling without their parents, husbands or particular friends to guard them; for though virtue is a good guard: yet it doth not always protect their persons, without human assistance: for though virtue guards, yet youth and beauty betrays, and the treachery of the one, is more than the safety of the other: for ofttimes young beautiful and virtuous women, if they wander alone, find but rude entertainment from the masculine sex: as witness Jacob’s daughter Dinah, which Shechem forced.
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And others, whose enforcement mentioned in holy Scripture, and in histories of less authority (sans number) which shows, that Heaven doth not always protect the persons of virtuous souls from rude violences: neither doth it always leave virtue destitute, but sometimes lends a human help, yet so as never, but where necessity was the cause of their dangers, and not ignorance, indiscretion, or curiosity: for Heaven never helps but those that could not avoid the danger: besides, if they do avoid the dangers, they seldom avoid a scandal. For the world in many causes judges according to what may be, and not according to what is, for they judge not according to truth, but show; no not the heart, but the countenance, which is the cause that many a chaste woman hath a spotted reputation: but to conclude, I say, those are in particular favoured with Heaven, that are protected from violence and scandal, in a wandering life, or a travelling condition.

In the Kingdom of Riches, after a long and sleepy peace, overgrown with plenty and ease[,] luxury broke out into factious sores, and feverish ambition, into a plaguey rebellion; killing numbers with the sword of unjust war, which made many fly from that pestilent destruction into other countries, and those that stayed, sent their daughters and wives, from the fury of the inhumane multitude, choosing to venture their lives with the hazards of travels, rather than their honours and chastities, by staying at home, amongst rough and rude soldiers; but in ten years wars, the ignorant vulgar, in the schools of experience, being often whipped [with] misery, had learnt the lesson of obedience, and peace that laid all the time in a swound, revived to life, and love, as the vital spirits thereof, restored to their orderly motions, and zeal, the fire of the public heart, flamed anew, concocting the undigested multitudes to a pure good government[.] And all those that fear, or care had banished, were invited and called home, by their natural affections to their country; a Lady amongst the rest enriched by nature with virtue, wit and beauty: in her returning voyage, [she] felt the spite of fortune, being cast by a storm, from the place she steered to, upon the Kingdom of Sensuality, a place and people strange unto her; no sooner landed, but treachery beset her; those she entrusted left her: and her years being but few, had not gathered enough experience, to give her the best direction[.] Thus knowing not how to dispose of herself, wanting means for support: calling her young and tender thoughts to council, at last they did agree, she should seek a service, and going to the chief city, which was not far from the haven town[,] a skipper whom she had entreated to go along with her[,] left her in a poor and mean house, to chance, time and fortune; where her hostess seeing her handsome, was tempted by her poverty and covetousness, to consider her own profit more than her guest’s safety, selling her to a bawd, which used to merchandise, and trafficked to the land of youth, for the
riches of beauty. This old bawd, having commerce with most nations, could speak many languages; and this Lady’s amongst the rest, [so] that what with her languages and her flattering words, she enticed this young Lady to live with her, and this old bawd (her supposed virtuous mistress) used her kindly, fed her daintily, clothed her finely; insomuch as she began to think she was become the darling of fortune, yet [the bawd] keeps her closely from the view of any, until her best customers came to the town, who were at that time in the country.

[In] the meantime her mistress began to read her lectures of Nature, telling her she should use her beauty whilst she had it, and not to waste her youth idly, but to make the best profit of both, to purchase pleasure and delight; besides, said she, Nature hath made nothing vainly, but to some useful end; and nothing merely for itself, but for a common benefit and general good, as earth, water, air and fire, sun, moon, stars, light, heat, cold and the like. So beauty with strength and appetites, either to delight her creatures that are in being; or to the end, or ways to procure more by procreation; for Nature only lives by survivors, and that cannot be without communication and society. Wherefore it is a sin against Nature to be reserved and coy, and take heed, said she, of offending Nature, for she is a great and powerful goddess, transforming all things out of one shape into another, and those that serve her faithfully and according as she commands, she puts them in an easy and delightful form; but those that displease her, she makes them to be a trouble, and torment to themselves; wherefore serve Nature, for she is the only and true goddess[,] and not those that men call upon, as Jupiter, Juno, and a hundred more, that living men vainly offer unto; being only men and women which were deified for invention, and heroic actions: for these dead, though not forgotten gods, and goddesses, as they are called through a superstitious fear, and an idolatrous love to ceremony, and an ignorant zeal to antiquity, men fruitless pray unto; but Nature is the only true goddess and no other, wherefore follow her directions, and you shall never do amiss, for we that are old, said she, are Nature’s priests, and being long acquainted with her laws and
customs, do teach youth the best manner of ways to serve her in.

The young Lady being of a quick apprehension began to suspect some design and treachery against her; and though her doubts begot great fears[,] yet her confidence of the gods’ protection of her virtue gave her courage, and dissembling her discovery as well as she could for the present, gave her thanks for her counsel. But when she was gone, considering in what a dangerous condition she stood in; and that the gods would not hear her, if she lazily called for help and watched for miracles neglecting natural means[;] she thought the best way was secretly to convey herself out of that place, and trust herself again to chance; by reason there could not be more danger than where she was in[.] But those thoughts [were] quickly cut off; by reason she could find no possibility of an escape being strictly kept by the care of the old bawd, for fear she should give away that by enticement, which she meant to sell at a high rate, wherefore she was forced to content herself; and to satisfy her fears, with hopes of finding some means to be delivered from those dangers, praying to the gods for their assistance to guard her from cruel invaders of chastity[.] But after two or three days, a subject Prince of that country, which was a grand monopolizer of young virgins came to the town, which was the metropolitan city of that country, where as soon as he came, he sent for his chief officer the old bawd to know of her how his customers increased, which when she came, she told him she had a rich prize, which she had seized on, and kept only for his use, telling him she was the rarest piece of Nature’s works, only saith she, she wants mature confidence; but time and heat of affection would ripen her to the height of boldness: so home she went to prepare for his coming, adorning her house with costly furniture, setting up a rich bed, as an altar to Venus, burning pleasant and sweet perfumes, as incense to her deity, before the sacrifice of chastity, youth and beauty; and instead of garlands, dressed her with costly and rich jewels, but the fair aspect of her beauty, her lovely features, exact proportion, graceful behaviour, with a sweet and modest countenance, was more
adorned, thus by Nature’s dress than those of arts, but these preparations turned Miseria, for so she was called[,] from doubts to a perfect belief of what she feared before; and not knowing how to avoid the shipwreck, she grew into a great passion, and disputing in controversies with herself, whether she should lose her honour and live, or save her honour and die[.] Dishonour she hated, and death she feared; the one she blushed at, the other she trembled at: but at last with much struggling, she got out of that conflict, resolving to die; for in death, said she, there is no pain; nor in a dishonourable life no content: but though death, says she, is common to all; yet when it comes not in the ordinary ways of Nature, there must be used violence by artificial instruments: and in my condition there must be used expedition; and considering what ways to take, she bethought of a maidservant that used to make clean the rooms, and such kind of works, to whom she had often talked as she was about her employments, and had gotten much of her affections[.] Her she called and told her, that a wise wizard had advised her, that ever on her birthday, she should shoot off a pistol, and in so doing she should be happy, so long as she used the same custom, but if she neglected, she should be unfortunate, for by the shooting thereof, said she, I shall kill a whole year of evil from doing me hurt, but she told her withal, that it must be that day, and it must be a small one for fear of making a great noise, and done privately for fear her mistress should know of it or anybody else, for it will be of no effect, if above one know of it besides myself. The simple wench easily believing what she said, was industrious to supply her wants, and in a short time brought her desires, which when she had got, her dejected spirits rose, with an overflowing joy. And sitting down with a quiet mind, since before she could not stand nor sit still; for her troubled, and rough thoughts drove her from one end of the room to the other, like a ship at sea, that is not anchored nor ballasted, or with storm tossed from point to point, so was she, but now with a constant wind of resolution, she sailed evenly, although she knew not what coast she should be driven to: but after some expectation, in came the old bawd and the Prince, who was so
struck with her beauty, as he stood some time to behold her: at last coming near her, earnestly viewing her and asking her some light questions to which she answered briefly and wittily; which took him so much as he had scarce patience to bargain with the old bawd for her; but when they were agreed, the wicked bawd left them to themselves; where he turning to the young Lady, told her that of all the women that ever he met with, his senses were never so much delighted, for they had wedded his soul to admirations.

She answered, that if his senses or her person did betray her to his lust, she wished them all annihilated, or at least buried in dust: but I hope, said she, by your noble and civil usage, you will give me cause to pray for you, and not to wish you evil; for why should you rob me of that which Nature freely gave? And it is an injustice to take the goods from the right owners without their consent; and an injustice is an act that all noble minds hate; and all noble minds usually dwell in honourable persons, such as you seem to be; and none but base or cruel tyrants will lay unreasonable commands, or require wicked demands to the powerless, or virtuous.

Wherefore most noble sir, said she, show yourself a master of passion, a king of clemency, a god of pity and compassion, and prove not yourself a beast to appetite, a tyrant to innocence, a devil to chastity, virtue and piety; and with that tears flowing from her eyes, as humble petitioners to beg her release from his barbarous intention, but he, by those tears, like drink to those that are poisoned, grows more dry, so did his passions more violent, who told her no rhetoric could alter his affections which when she heard and he ready to seize on her, she drew forth the pistol, which she had concealed: bending her brows, with a resolute spirit [she] told him she would stand upon her guard: for[,] said she, it is no sin to defend myself against an obstinate and cruel enemy, and know said she, I am no ways to be found [] by wicked persons but in death; for whilst I live I will live in honour, or when I kill or be killed I will kill or the for security.

He for a time stood in amaze to see her in that posture, and
to hear her high defiance, but considering with himself that her words might be more than her intentions, and that it was a shame to be out-dared by a woman, with a smiling countenance, said he, you threaten more evil than you dare perform; besides, in the grave honour will be buried with you, when by your life you may build palaces of pleasure and felicity; with that he went towards her to take away the pistol from her. Stay, stay, said she, I will first build me a temple of fame upon your grave, where all young virgins shall come and offer at my shrine, and in the midst of these words shot him; with that he fell to the ground, and the old bawd, hearing a pistol, came running in, where seeing the Prince lie all smeared in blood, and the young Lady as a marble statue standing by, as if she had been fixed to that place, looking steadfastly upon her own act, she running about the room called out murder, murder, help, help, not knowing what to do; fear had so possessed her, at last [she] drew her knife, thinking to stab her, but the Prince forbid her, saying, he hoped he should live to give her, her due desert, which if the gods grant, said he, I shall ask no more: so desiring to be laid upon the bed, until the chirurgeons
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came to dress his wounds[,] staunching the blood as well as they could, the meantime[.] But after the chirurgeons had search[ed] his wounds, he asked them whether they were mortal; they told him they were dangerous, and might prove so; but their hopes were not quite cut off with despair of his recovery; but after his wounds were dressed, he gave order[s] for the young Lady to be locked up close, that none might know there was such a creature in the house, nor to disclose how, or by what means he came hurt, then being put in his litter, he was carried into his own house, which was a stately palace in the city[.] The noise of his being wounded, was spread abroad, and everyone enquiring how he came so, making several tales and reports, as they fancied; but none knew the truth thereof[.] After some days his wounds began to mend, but his mind grew more distempered with the love of the fair Lady; yet loath he was to force that from her, she so valiantly had guarded, and kept: and to enjoy her lawfully he could not, because he was a married man, and
had been so five years, for at the years of twenty[,] by his parents’ persuasion, being a younger brother at that time, although afterwards he was left the first of his family by the death of his eldest brothei[,] he married a widow, being noble and rich: but well stricken in years, never bearing child, and thus being wedded more to interest than love, was the cause of seeking those societies which best pleased him[.] But after long conflicts and doubts[,] fears, hopes and jealousies, he resolved to remove her from that house, and to try to win her by gifts, and persuasions; and sending for a reverent lady, his aunt, whom he knew loved him, [] told her the passage of all that had happened, and also his affection, praying her to take [Miseria] privately from that place, and to conceal her secretly until he was well recovered, entreating her also to use her with all civility, and respect that could be, and going from him, she did all that he had desired her, removing [Miseria] to a house of hers a mile from the city, and there kept her[.] The young Lady in the meantime, expected] nothing less than death, and was resolved to suffer as valiantly as she had acted; so casting off all care, only troubled she lived so idly; but the old lady coming to see her, she prayed her to give her something to employ her time on, for said she, my brain hath not a sufficient stock to work upon itself[.] Whereupon the old lady asked her, if she would have some books to read in; she answered, yes, if they were good ones, or else, said she, they are like impertinent persons, that displease more by their vain talk, than they delight with their company. Will you have some romances, said the old lady? She answered no, for they extoll virtue so much as begets an envy, in those that have it not, and know, they cannot attain unto that perfection: and they beat infirmities so cruelly, as it begets pity, and by that a kind of love; besides their impossibilities makes them ridiculous to reason; and in youth they beget wanton desires, and amorous affections. What say you to natural philosophy, said she? She answered, they were there opinions, and if there be any truths said she, they are so buried under falsehood, as they cannot be found out[.] Will you have moral philosophy? No said she, for they divide the passions so nicely, and command
with such severity as it is against nature, to follow them, and impossible to perform them. What think you of logic? said she[.] Answered she, they are nothing but sophistry, making factious disputes, but conclude of nothing. Will you have history? No said she, for they are seldom writ in the time of action, but a long time after, when truth is forgotten; but if they be writ at present, yet partiality or ambition, or fear bears too much sway, (said she) you shall have divine books, no said she, they raise up such controversies, as they cannot be allayed again, tormenting the mind about that they cannot know whilst they live, and frights their consciences so as makes man afraid to die; but said the young Lady, pray give me play-books, or mathematical ones[.] The first, said she[,] discovers and expresses the humours and manners of men, by which I shall know myself and others the better, and in shorter time than experience can teach me, and in the latter, said she, I shall learn to demonstrate truth by reason, and to measure out my life by the rule of good actions, to set ciphers and figures on those persons to whom I ought to be grateful, to number my days by pious devotions, that I may be found weighty, when I am put in the scales of God’s justice; besides said she, I learn all arts useful and pleasant for the life of man, as music, architecture, navigation, fortification, waterworks, fire-works, all engines, instruments, wheels and many such like, which are useful[.] Besides, I shall learn to measure the earth, to reach the heavens, to number the stars, to know the motions of the planets, to divide time and to compass the whole world, the mathematics is a candle of truth, whereby I may peep into the works of Nature to imitate her in little therein, it comprises all that truth can challenge, all other books disturb the life of man, this only settles it and composes it in sweet delight.