he must needs be patient, and therefore a martyr,
if he knows it not, he is innocent, and you know that martyrs and
innocents shall be saved, which if you grant, it followeth that all
cuckolds shall obtain paradise.

T. Methinks then that women are not greatly to be blamed if they seek
their husbands' eternal salvation, but are rather to be commended as
causes of a noble and worthy effect."

He speaks with evident feeling of one who is imprisoned for debt.

"T. Take heed of debts; temper thy desires, and moderate thy tongue.

C. It is a devilish thing to owe money.

T. For all that he is so proud that though he have need of patience
he calleth for revenge.

C. Could not he save himself out of the hands of those catchpoles,
counter guardians, or sergeants?

T. Seeking to save himself by flight from that rascality he had
almost left the lining of his cap behind.

C. I am sorry for his mischance, for with his jests, toys, fooleries,
and pleasant conceits, he would have made Heraclitus himself to burst
his heart with laughing.

T. Did you ever go see him yet?

C. I would not go into prison to fetch one of my eyes if I had left
it there.

T. Yet there be some honest men there.

C. And where will you have them but in places of persecution?

T. You have reason.

C. I would not be painted there so much do I hate and loathe the
place."

Speaking of the Court and courtiers he says:

"C. The favours of the Court are like fair weather in winter, or
clouds in summer, and Court, in former time, was counted death.

T. It is still Court for the vicious, but death for the virtuous,
learned and wise.

C. Seven days doth the Court regard a virtuous man, be he never so
mannerly, well-brought up, and of gentle conditions. That is, the
first day he makes a show of himself, he is counted gold; the second,
silver; the third, copper; the fourth, tin; the fifth, lead; the
sixth, dross; and the seventh, nothing at all, whereas the contrary
happeneth of the vicious.

T. Yet the virtuous have sometimes got rich gifts there.

C. Yea, but they come as seldom as the year of jubilee.

* * * * *

T. Yet some of them are so courteous, so gentle, so kind, so liberal,
so bountiful, that envy itself cannot choose but love them, and blame
honour them, and, I think, there is no Court