For, in the Councell of Neo-Caesarea, which was before the Nicen Councell, in the seventh Canon, there are somewhat shrewd aspersions laid upon second Mariages. And certainly, the Roman Church cannot be denyed, to come too neere this dis-approving of second Mariages. For though they will not speak plaine, (they love not that, because they get more by keeping things in suspence) yet plainly they forbid the Benediction at second Mariages, Valet quantum valere potest; Let them doe as well as they can, with their second Mariage, Let them marrie De bene esse, At all adventures; but they will affoord no Blessing to a second, as to a first Mariage. And though they will not shut up the Church doores against all such. No such Person as hath married twice, or married once, one that hath married twice, can be received to the dignity of Orders, in their Church.

And though some of the Fathers pared somewhat too neare the quick in this point, yet it was not as in the Romane Church, to lay snares, and spread nets for gain, and profit, and to forbid only therefore, that they might have market for their Dispensations; neither was it to fixe, and appropriate sancity, only in Ecclesiasticall persons, who only must not marry twice, but out of a tender sense, and earnest love to Continency, and out of a holy indignation, that men tumbled and wallowed so licentiously, so promiscuously, so indifferently, so inconsiderately in all wayes of incontinency, those blessed Fathers admitted in themselves a super-zealous, an over-vehement animosity in this point. But yet S. Ierome himselfe, though he remember with a holy scorn, that when he was at Rome in the assistance of Pope Damasus (as his word is, Cum juvarem) he saw a man that had buried twenty wives, marry a wife, that buried twenty two husbands, yet for the matter, and in seriousnesse, he sayes plainly enough, Non damno Bigamos, imo nec Trigamos, nec si dici potest octogamos, I condemne no man for marrying two, or three, or if he have a minde to it, eight wives.

A virtuous Widow

Is the Palm-tree, that thrives not after the supplanting of her husband. For her Children’s sake she first marries, for she married that she might have children, and for their sakes she marries no more. She is like the purest gold, only employed for Princes’ medals, she never receives but one man’s impression; the large jointure moves her not, titles of honor cannot sway her. To change her name were, she thinks, to commit a sin should make her asham’d of her husband’s Calling: she thinks she hath traveled all the world in one man; the rest of her time therefore she directs to heaven. Her main superstition is, she thinks her husband’s ghost would walk should she not perform his Will: she would do it, were there no Prerogative Court. She gives much to pious uses, without any hope to merit by them: and as one Diamond fashions another; so is she wrought into works of Charity, with the dust or ashes of her husband. She lives to see herself full of time: being so necessary for earth, God calls her not to heaven, ‘til she be very aged: and even then, though her natural strength fail her, she stands like an ancient Pyramid; which the less it grows to man’s eye, the nearer it reaches to heaven: this latter Chastity of Hers, is more grave and reverend, than that ere she was married; for in it is neither hope, nor longing, nor fear, nor jealousy. She ought to be a mirror for our youngest Dames, to dress themselves by, when she is fullest of wrinkles. No calamity can now come near her, for in suffering the loss of her husband, she accounts all the rest trifles: she hath laid his dead body in the worthiest monument that can be: She hath buried it in her own heart. To conclude, she is a Relic, that without any superstition in the world, though she will not be kissed, yet may be reverenced.

An ordinary Widow

Is like the Herald’s Hearse-cloth; she serves to many funerals, with a very little altering the color. The end of her husband begins in tears; and the end of her tears begins in a husband. She uses to Cunning women to know how many husbands she shall have, and never marries without the consent of six midwives. Her chiefest pride is in the multitude of her Suitors; and by them she gains: for one serves to draw on another, and with one at last she shoots out another, as Boys do Pellets in Eldern Guns. She commends to them a single life, as Horse-corsers do their Jades, to put them away. Her fancy is to one of the biggest of the Guard, but Knighthood makes her draw in a weaker Bow. Her servants, or kinsfolk, are the Trumpeters that summon any to this combat: by them she gains much credit, but loseth it again in the old Proverb: Fama, est mendax. If she live to be thrice married, she seldom fails to cozen her second Husband’s Creditors. A Churchman she dare not venture upon; for she hath heard Widows complain of dilapidations: nor a Soldier, though he have Candle-rents in the City, for his estate may be subject to fire: very seldom a Lawyer, without he show his exceeding great practice, and can make her case the better: but a Knight with the old Rent may do much, for a great coming in, is all in all with a Widow: ever provided, that most part of her Plate and Jewels, (before the wedding) lie concealed with her Scrivener. Thus like a too ripe Apple, she falls of herself: but he that hath her, is Lord but of a filthy purchase, for the title is cracked. Lastly, while she is a Widow, observe ever, she is no Morning woman: the evening a good fire and Sack may make her listen to a Husband: and if ever she be made sure, ‘tis upon a full stomach to bedward.