bertine and
impure single life, than to be yoked in marriage; and many that do
marry, marry late, when the prime and strength of their years is past.
And when they do marry, what is marriage to them but a very bargain;
wherein is sought alliance, or portion, or reputation, with some desire
(almost indifferent) of issue; and not the faithful nuptial union of man
and wife, that was first instituted. Neither is it possible, that those
that have cast away so basely so much of their strength, should greatly
esteem children (being of the same matter) as chaste men do. So likewise
during marriage is the case much amended, as it ought to be if those
things were tolerated only for necessity; no, but they remain still as a
very affront to marriage. The haunting of those dissolute places, or
resort to courtezans, are no more punished in married men than in
bachelors. And the depraved custom of change, and the delight in
meretricious embracements (where sin is turned into art), maketh
marriage a dull thing, and a kind of imposition or tax. They hear you
defend these things, as done to avoid greater evils; as advoutries,
deflowering of virgins, unnatural lust, and the like. But they say, this
is a preposterous wisdom; and they call it Lot's offer, who to save his
guests from abusing, offered his daughters; nay, they say further, that
there is little gained in this; for that the same vices and appetites do
still remain and abound, unlawful lust being like a furnace, that if you
stop the flames altogether it will quench, but if you give it any vent
it will rage; as for masculine love, they have no touch of it; and yet
there are not so faithful and inviolate friendships in the world again
as are there, and to speak generally (as I said before) I have not read
of any such chastity in any people as theirs. And their usual saying is
that whosoever is unchaste cannot reverence himself; and they say that
the reverence of a man's self, is, next religion, the chiefest bridle of
all vices." And when he had said this the good Jew paused a little;
whereupon I, far more willing to hear him speak on than to speak myself;
yet thinking it decent that upon his pause of speech I should not be
altogether silent, said only this; that I would say to him, as the widow
of Sarepta said to Elias: "that he was come to bring to memory our
sins;" and that I confess the righteousness of Bensalem was greater than
the righteousness of Europe. At which speech he bowe