6 Aug. 1608.

[xli.]

_To Sir_ H. Wootton.

_SIR_,

That which is at first but a visitation, and a civill office, comes

quickly to be a haunting, and an uncivill importunity: my often writing

might be subject to such a misinterpretation, if it were not to you, who

as you know that the affection which suggests and dictates them, is ever

one, and continuall, and uninterrupted, may be pleased to think my Letters

so too, and that all the pieces make but one long Letter, and so I know

you would not grudge to read any intire book of mine, at that pace, as you

do my Letters, which is a leafe a week: especially such Letters as mine,

which (perchance out of the dulnesse of the place) are so empty of any

relations, as that they oppresse not your meditations, nor discourse, nor

memory. You know that for aire we are sure we apprehend and enjoy it, but

when this aire is rarified into fire, we begin to dispute whether it be an

element, or no: so when Letters have a convenient handsome body of news,

they are Letters; but when they are spun out of nothing, they are nothing,

or but apparitions, and ghosts, with such hollow sounds, as he that hears

them, knows not what they said. You (I think) and I am much of one sect in

the Philosophy of love; which though it be directed upon the minde, doth

inhere in the body, and find piety entertainment there: so have Letters

for their principall office, to be seals and testimonies of mutuall

affection, but the materialls and fuell of them should be a confident and

mutuall communicating of those things which we know. How shall I then who

know nothing write Letters? Sir, I learn knowledge enough out of yours to

me. I learn that there is truth and firmnesse and an earnestness of doing

good alive in the world; and therefore, since there is so good company in

it, I have not so much desire to go out of it, as I had, if my fortune

would afford me any room in it. You know I have been no coward, nor

unindustrious in attempting that; nor will I give it over yet. If at last,

I must confesse, that I dyed ten years ago, yet as the Primitive Church

admitted some of the _Jews_ Ceremonies not for perpteuall use, but because

they would bury the Synagogue honourably, though I dyed at a blow then

when my courses were diverted, yet it wil please me a little to have had a

long funerall, and to have kept my self so long above ground without

putrefaction. But this is melancholique discourse; To change therefore

from this Metaphoricall death to the true, and that with a little more

relish of mirth, let me tell you the good nature of the executioner of

_Paris_: who when _Vatan_ was beheaded, (who dying in the profession of

the Religion, had made his peace with God in the prison, and so laid

nothing at the place of execution) swore he had rather execute forty

Huguenots, then one Catholique, because the Huguenot used so few words,

and troubled him so little, in respect of the dilatory ceremonies of the

others, in dying. _Cotton_ the great Court Jesuit hath so importuned the

Q[ueen] to give some modifications to the late interlocutory arrest

against the Jesuits, that in his presence, the C[ount] _Soisons_, who had

been present in the Court at the time of the arrest, and _Servin_ the

Kings Advocate, who urged it, and the Premier president, were sent for:

They came so well provided with their books, out of which they assigned to

the Q. so many, so evident places of seditious doctrine, that the Q. was

well satsified, that it was fit by all means to provide against the

teaching of the like doctrine in _France_. The D[uke] of _Espernon_ is

come to _Paris_, with (they say) 600 horse in his train; all which

company, came with him into the Court: which is an insolency remarkable

here. They say that scarce any of the Princes appear in the streets, but

with very great trains. No one enemy could wast the treasures of _France_

so much, as so many friends do: for the Q. dares scarce deny any, that so

she may have the better leave to make haste to advance her Marquis of

_Ancre_, of whose greatnesse, for matter of command, or danger, they have

no great fear, he being no very capable nor stirring man: and then for his

drawing of great benefits from the Q. they make that use of it, that their

suits passe with lesse opposition. I beleeve the treasure is scattered,

because I see the future receipt charged with so very many and great

pensions. The Q. hath adventured a little to stop this rage of the Princes

importunity, by denying a late suit of _Soissons_: which though the other

Princes grudge not that _Soisson_ should faile, for he hath drawn infinite

sums already, yet they resent it somewhat tenderly, that any of them

should be denyed, when the Marquis obtains. That which was much observed

in the Kings more childish age, when I was last here, by those whom his

father appointed to judge, by an assiduous observation, his naturall

inclination, is more and more confirmed, that his inclinations are cruell,

and tyrannous; and when he is any way affected, his stammering is so

extreme, as he can utter nothing. They cannot draw him to look upon a son

of the Marquis, whom they have put into his service. And he was so

extremely affectionate towards the younger son of _Beaufort_, that they

have removed him to a charge which he hath, as he is made Prieur of

_Malta_; but yet there passe such Letters between them, by stealth and

practise, as (though it be between children) it is become a matter of

State, and much diligence used to prevent the Letters. For the young

Marquis of _Vervueil_, the K[ing] speaks often of transplanting him into

the Church, and once this Christmas delighted himself to see his young

brother in a Cardinalls habit. Sir, it is time to take up, for I know,

that any thing, from this place, as soon as it is certain, is stale. I

have been a great while more mannerly towards my Lady _Bedford_, then to

trouble her with any of mine own verses, but having found these French

verses accompanied with a great deal of reputation here, I could not

forbear to aske her leave to send them. I writ to you by M{r} _Pory_ the

17 of _Jan._ here, and he carried that Letter to _Paris_, to gather news,

like a snowball. He told me that _Pindar_ is gone to _Constantinople_ with

Commission to remove and succeed _Glover_: I am afraid you have neglected

that businesse. Continue me in M[r.] _Martins_ good opinion. I know I

shall never fall from it, by any demerit of mine, and I know I need not

fear it, out of any slacknesse or slipperinesse in him, but much businesse

may strangle me in him. When it shall not trouble you to write to me, I

pray do me the favour to tell me, how many you have received from me, for

I have now much just reason to imagine, that some of my Pacquets have had

more honour then I wished them: which is to be delivered into the hands of

greater personages, then I addressed them unto. Hold me still in your own

love, and proceed in that noble testimony of it, of which your Letter by

M. _Pory_ spoke, (which is the only Letter that I have received, since I

came away) and beleeve me that I shall ever with much affection, and much

devotion joine both your fortune and your last best happinesse, with the

desire of mine own in all my civill and divine wishes as the only

retribution in the power of

_Your affectionate servant_

J. Donne.

[xlii.]

_To the Honorable Knight Sir_ H. Goodere.

_SIR_,

If I would go out of my way for excuses, or if I did not go out of my way

from them; I might avoid writing now because I cannot chuse but know, that

you have in this town abler servants, and better understanding the persons

and passages of this Court. But my hope is not in the application of other

mens merits, to me however abundant. Besides, this town hath since our

comming hither, afforded enough for all to say. That which was done here

the 25 of _March_, and which was so long called a publication of the

marriages, was no otherwise publique then that the Spa[nish] Ambassador,

having that day an audience, delivered to the Queen that his Master was

well pleased with all those particulars which had been formerly treated.

And the French Ambassador in _Spain_ is said to have had instruction, to

do the same office in that Court, the same day. Since that, that is to

say, these 4 last days, it hath been solemnized with more outward bravery

then this Court is remembered to have appeared in. The main bravery was

the number of horses which were above 800 Caparazond. Before the daies,

the town was full of the 5 Challengers cartells, full of Rodomontades: but

in the execution, there were noe personall reencounters, nor other triall

of any ability, then running at the Quintain, and the Ring. Other

particulars of this, you cannot chuse but hear too much, since at this

time there come to you so many French men. But lest you should beleeve too

much, I present you these 2 precautions, that for their Gendarmery, there

was no other trial then I told you; & for their bravery, no true stuffe.

You must of necessity have heard often of a Book written against the Popes

jurisdiction, about three moneths since, by one _Richer_, a D{r} and

Syndique of the Sorbonists, which Book hath now been censured by an

assembly of the Clergie of this Archbishoprick, promoved with so much

diligence by the Cardinall _Peroun_ [_du Perron_], that for this businesse

he hath intermitted his replie to the Kings answer, which now he retires

to intend seriously: I have not yet had the honour to kisse his Graces

hand, though I have received some half-invitations to do it. _Richer_ was

first accused to the Parliament, but when it was there required of his

delators to insist upon some propositions in his Book, which were either

against Scripture, or the Gallican Church, they desisted in that pursuit.

But in the censure which the Clergie hath made, though it be full of

modifications and reservations of the rights of the King, and the Gallican

Churches, there is this iniquitie, that being to be published by

commandment of the Assembly, in all the Churches of _Paris_, which is

within that Diocese, and almost all the Curates of the Parishes of _Paris_

being Sorbonists, there is by this means a strong party of the Sorbonists

themselves raised against _Richer_; yet against this censure, and against

three or four which have opposed _Richer_ in print, he meditates an

answer. Before it should come forth I desired to speak with him, for I had

said to some of the Sorbonist of his party, that there was no proposition

in his Book, which I could not shew in Catholique authors of 300 years: I

had from him an assignation to meet, and at the hour he sent me his

excuse, which was, that he had been traduced to have had conference with

the Ambassadors of _England_, and the States, and with the D[uke] of

_Bovillon_, and that he had accepted a pension of the King of _England_;

and withall, that it had been very well testified to him that day, that

the Jesuits had offered to corrupt men with rewards to kill him. Which I

doubt not but he apprehended for true, because a messenger whom I sent to

fixe another time of meeting with him, found him in an extreme trembling,

and irresolutions: so that I had no more, but an intreaty to forbear

comming to his house, or drawing him out of it, till it might be without

danger or observation. They of the Religion held a Synod at this time in

this Town, in which the principall businesse is to rectifie, or at least

to mature, against their Provinciall Synod, which shall be held in _May_,

certain opinions of _Tilenus_ a Divine of _Sedan_, with which the Churches

of _France_ are scandalized. The chief point is, Whether our salvation be

to be attributed to the passive merit of Christ, which is his death, or to

his active also, which is his fulfilling of the Law. But I doubt not but

that will be well composed, if _Tilenus_ who is here in person with two

other assistants, bring any disposition to submit himself to the Synod,

and not onely to dispute. I doe (I thank God) naturally and heartily

abhorre all schism in Religion so much, as, I protest, I am sorry to

finde this appearance of schism amongst our adversaries the Sorbonists;

for I had rather they had held together, to have made a head against the

usurpations of the Ro[man] Church, then that their disuniting should so

enfeeble them, as that the Parliament should be left alone to stand

against those tyrannies. Sir, you will pardon my extravagancies in these

relations. I look upon nothing so intentively as these things, nor fals

there any thing within my knowledge, which I would conceal from you.

Though it concern not you to know it, yet me thinks it concerns me to tell

it. That _Cook_ of which you writ to me, is come hither, and hath brought

me other Letters, but not those of which you writ to me, which pacquet, he

saies, you received again of him; whether by his falshood, or by your

diligence in seeking a worthier messenger, I know not; but I am sure I

never lost any thing with more sorrow, because I am thereby left still in

uncertainties, and irresolutions, of that which I desire much to know in

womens businesses. If you write this way any more, chuse no other means,

then by M{r} _Bruer_ at the Queens Arms, a Mercer in _Cheapside_: he

shall alwaies know where we are, and we are yet in a purpose to go from

hence within a fortnight, and dispose our selves to be at _Frankford_ the

25 of _May_, when the election of the Emperor shall be there. Though I be

meerly passive in all this pilgrimage, yet I shall be willing to advance

that design; because upon my promise that I would doe so, Sir _Rob. Rich_

gave me his, that he would divert from his way to _Italy_ so much, as to

be there then. When I came to this Town I found M{r} _Matthew_, diligent

to finde a means to write to you; so that at this time, when there go so

many, I cannot doubt but he provides himself, therefore I did not ask his

commandement, nor offer him the service of this Pacquet. Sir, you are not

evener to your self, in your most generall wishes of your own good, then I

am in my particular, of which none rises in me, that is not bent upon your

enjoying of peace and reposednesse in your fortunes, in your affections,

and in your conscience; more then which I know not how to wish to

_Your very affectionate servant and

lover_

J. Donne.

Paris _the_ 9 Apr.

1612. _here_.

[xliii.]

_To Sir_ H. Wotton.

Letters to Severall Persons of Honour · 第 26 / 217 题