stresses, but only that usually they carry
their mistresses' weapons and his valour. To be counted handsome, just,
learned, or well-favoured, all this carries no danger with it, but it is
to be admitted to the title of valiant acts, at least the venturing of
his mortality, and all women take delight to hold him safe in their arms
who hath escaped thither through many dangers. To speak at once, man
hath a privilege in valour; in clothes and good faces we but imitate
women, and many of that sex will not think much, as far as an answer
goes, to dissemble wit too. So then these neat youths, these women in
men's apparel, are too near a woman to be beloved of her, they be both
of a trade; but he of grim aspect, and such a one a glass dares take,
and she will desire him for newness and variety. A scar in a man's face
is the same that a mole in a woman's, is a jewel set in white to make it
seem more white, for a scar in a man is a mark of honour and no blemish,
for 'tis a scar and a blemish in a soldier to be without one. Now, as
for all things else which are to procure love, as a good face, wit
clothes, or a good body, each of them, I confess, may work somewhat for
want of a better, that is, if valour be not their rival. A good face
avails nothing if it be in a coward that is bashful, the utmost of it is
to be kissed, which rather increaseth than quencheth appetite. He that
sends her gifts sends her word also that he is a man of small gifts
otherwise, for wooing by signs and tokens employs the author dumb; and
if Ovid, who writ the law of love, were alive (as he is extant), he
would allow it as good a diversity that gifts should be sent as
gratuities, not as bribes. Wit getteth rather promise than love. Wit is
not to be seen, and no woman takes advice of any in her loving but of
her own eyes and her waiting-woman's; nay, which is worse, wit is not to
be felt, and so no good bedfellow. Wit applied to a woman makes her
dissolve her simpering and discover her teeth with laughter, and this is
surely a purge of love, for the beginning of love is a kind of foolish
melancholy. As for the man that makes his tailor his means, and hopes to
inveigle his love with such a coloured suit, surely the same deeply
hazards the loss of her favour upon every change of his clothes. So
likewise for the other that courts her silently with a good body, let me
certify him, that his clothes depend upon the comeliness of his body,
and so both upon opinion.