hen I am writing any sad feigned stories or serious humours or melancholy
passions, I am forced many times to express them with the tongue before
I can write them with the pen, by reason those thoughts that are sad, serious
and melancholy are apt to contract and to draw too much back, which oppression
doth as it were overpower or smother the conception in the brain. But when
some of those thoughts are sent out in words they give the rest more liberty
to place themselves in a more methodical order, marching more regularly
with my pen on the ground of white paper.
But my letters seem rather as a ragged rout than a well-armed body, for
the brain being quicker in creating than the hand in writing or the memory
in retaining, many fancies are lost, by reason they oft-times outrun the
pen, while I, to keep speed in the race, write so fast as I stay not so
long as to write my letters plain, insomuch as some have taken my hand-writing
for some strange character . . . . However, that little wit I have it delights
me to scribble it out and disperse it about.
For I being addicted from my childhood to contemplation rather than conversation,
to solitariness rather than society, to melancholy rather than mirth, to
write with the pen rather than to work with a needle; passing my times with
harmless fancies, their company being pleasing, their conversaton innocent,
--- I take such pleasure therein as to neglect my health: for it is as great
a grief to leave their society as a joy to be in their company.
My only trouble is lest my brain should grow barren, or that the root of
my fancies should become insipid, withering into a dull stupidity for want
of maturing subjects to write on; for I am of a lazy nature and not of an
active disposition as some are that love to journey from town to town, from
house to house, delighting in variety of company, making one where the greatest
number is.
In playing cards or any other games I neither have practised nor have I
any skill therein. As for dancing, although it be a graceful art and becometh
unmarried persons well, yet for those that are married it is too light an
action, disagreeing with the gravity of that estate. For revelling I am
of too dull a nature to make one of the a merry society: as for feasting
it would neither agree with my humour nor constitution, for my diet is for
the most part sparing --- as a little boiled chicken or the like and my
drink most commonly water. For though I have a indifferent good appetite,
yet I do often fast, out of an opinion that if I should eat much and exercise
little (which I do, only walking a slow pace in my chamber whilst my thoughts
run apace in my brain, so the the motions of my mind hinder the active exercises
of the body) I would soon injure myself.
Should I dance or run or walk apace I should dance my thoughts out of measure,
run my fancies out of breath and tread out the feet of my numbers. But because
I would not bury myself quite from the sight of the world I go sometimes
abroad, seldom to visit but only in my coach about the town [Antwerp], which
we call here a tour, where all the chief of the town go to see and be seen,
likewise all strangers of what quality soever, as all great princes or queens
that make any stay: for this town being a passage or thoroughfare to most
parts, causeth many times persons of great quality to be here, though not
as inhabitants, yet to lodge for some short time, and all such as I said,
take delight, or at least go, to see the custom thereof. Most cities of
note in Europe for all I can hear, have such like recreations for the effeminate
sex.
Although for my part I had rather sit at home and write: but I hold it necessary
sometimes to appear abroad: besides I find that several objects bring new
materials for my thoughts and fancies to build upon. Yet I must say this
in behalf of my thoughts, that I never found them idle: for if the senses
bring no work in, they will work of themselves, like silk worms that spin
out of their own bowels. Neither can I say I think the time tedious when
I am alone, so long as I be near my Lord and know he is well.