discovery of the offense by the avenger, or on the discovery of such circumstances that its commission becomes reasonably and morally certain. The Cole and Hiscock case virtually went a step further, and absolved a husband for killing a supposed seducer upon the wife's confession alone. And now we come to the McFarland and Richardson case, in which it is laid down as the practical rule of action, that if a married woman leaves her residence in New York, and goes to Indiana, and procures a divorce, valid under the laws of that state, for a cause really existing, her husband may lawfully slay any unmarried male friend of the wife who aids and abets in the procurment of the divorce, although there is no proof of any adultery on the part of the wife with that friend. We say this is the practical rule established by this case, because this is the construction put upon it by the great majority of the public and of the newspapers. The idea of the prisoner's insanity is generally scouted. Insanity, the press say, was the pretext for an acquittal according to the forms of law; the prisoner was no more insane than jealous, brutal, drunken husbands usually are when deprived of wives who have always supported them; the trial was a "farce." It is therefore not important for us to consider whether insanity was or was not proved at the trial. We will only remark on this point in passing, that Mrs. McFarland-Richardson in her statement published since the trial, does much more, in our opinion, both to absolve her husband and inculpate herself than all the evidence adduced on the trial. No one can carefully read her statement without coming to the conclusion that she at least had always regarded him as suffering at frequent intervals under aberration of intellect. She knew he

came of a lunatic stock. He was subject to sudden, violent, and inexplicable fits of anger. She always thought him "born to do a murder." She had warned him that she feared he would kill her in one of these paroxysms, to which he replied that he never would harm a hair of her head if he knew her. This goes far to corroborate the evidence of insanity, of which there was a good deal given on trial. On the other hand, there would seem to be considerable pecuniary method in his madness, for if Mr. Pomeroy's uncontradicted testimony is credible, he sought to sell his story of his wrongs to a newspaper editor for publication. On the point of the wife's culpapility, she admits that although she had at command abundant proof that her husband had been repeatedly guilty of adultery, yet esteeming this a less grievous offense against her womanhood than the direct personal indignities she had suffered at his hands, she had gone to a state where the latter were a recognized ground of separation, and there procured the divorce, which we understand was without notice to McFarland. This was a fatal mistake on this unhappy wife's part, and goes far to justify the circulation of the scandal relative to her association with Richardson.

We must be permitted also to remark here, that the privilege of irresponsible killing which the laws, as administered, accord to men, under the circumstances mentioned above, is not, so far as we know, extended to the female sex. Adultery is a common and every-day offense on the part of married men,

but, we suppose, if a woman should shoot her husband's paramour, she would not escape punishment. Here is room for a seventeenth amendment of the federal constitution.

But what we intend mainly to comment on is the satisfaction with which this verdict is accepted by the public, received as it is upon the assumption that insanity was not proved, and that the wife was guilty. With one or two exceptions, the leading newspapers substantially approve it. The World says, with apparent contentment, that we are in a state of nature on the subject of infringements of marital rights. To quote the language of an article on the Cole-Hiscock case, published contemporaneously in the American Law Register, and written by the author of this article:

"In other words, that private animosity may usurp the place of public justice, and society in this respect be reduced to elemental chaos; that a private individual may lawfully take the life of his fellow-being where society and the laws would have no right to take life, or even inflict the slightest punishment. Is there not in this idea something radically wrong?

"To countenance the individual in becoming, at his own option, the executor of established public laws, savors of a demoralized state of society; but to applaud the individual when he not only constitutes himself the executioner, but himself makes the law which he executes, is a distinguishing mark of a barbarous and lawless community. And when we add to this, that the community has looked calmly and approvingly on this course for a hundred years of enlightenment and civilization, and still persists in neglecting or refusing to render that legally penal which in effect it has so long farmed out to private revenge, it is truly one of those obstinate anomalies, the existence of which goes to justify the belief among theologians in the doctrine of innate total depravity, and in statesmen the despair of constructing a perfect political system.

"In new and unsettled countries where laws exist, but the executive power is weak, combinations of individuals have sometimes been temporarily tolerated for the purpose of preserving human life and property, but then only with great reluctance and debate, and for the shortest practicable period; and these departures from the ordinary procedure of civilized nations are regarded in the older and more settled communities with an extremely measured approbation, if not with positive disapproval. So great is the fear in conservative minds of possible injustice through hasty measures, excited passions, and the absence of legal forms, that the very name of 'vigilance committee' raises the spirit of condemnation, and the query whether it is not better to bear the ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of;' whether it is not better, in the humane language of the law, that ninety-nine guilty should go unpunished than that one innocent should be harmed. And so these summary dealings have been tolerated only because they seemed unavoidable, very much as many arbitrary proceedings were justified during the late war by the plea of 'military necessity.' But in these same old and settled communities - refined, educated, humane, christian communities - here in the state of New York, where we have been accus.

tomed to regard human life as safe as human wisdom can make it, and the execution of laws as certain as human foresight can render it; where the cheapness with which human life has seemed to be held in the Southern states of the Union has been so strongly and persistently reprobated; where legislators have had so many solemn judicial warnings of the effects of neglected duty-it seems yet, if we may judge from the defects of the statute-book, and the actual administration of law, to be the sentiment of the people, as it also seems the voice of the public press, that the individual is justified in deliberately taking the life of his neighbor for that which is in law no crime. With the exception of Massachusetts and Pennsylvania (so far as we know), adultery in the United States is nowhere judicially pronounced a crime, but still is a full excuse for the taking of life by the private hand.

"The omission in this particular is the more singular because we are so hedged and guarded on nearly every side by law. It is really curious to contemplate the number of things artificially unlawful. We have laws against almost every form of sumptuary excess and licentious and indecent conduct. It is against the law to utter a profane oath; to disturb the public quiet on Sunday; to sell intoxicating liquor without conforming to public requirements; to drive fast through the streets; to expose the person in public places; to commit the abominable and detestable crime against nature.' We have laws punishing inIt fringements on the proper relations of the sexes. is against the law to commit rape, or to seduce an unmarried female under promise of marriage, and, in a number of communities, to commit fornication. A man may be criminally punished, under certain circumstances, for saying that his neighbor has seduced a woman; but he cannot be legally punished for seducing that neighbor's wife.

"Again: How tender of human life is the law, at least in theory! Nearly every form of homicide and of violence, or risk of violence, to the person of one's self or of another, is forbidden. It is against the law for a man to commit suicide, and criminal to assist one in taking his own life. It is unlawful for two men to agree to run the risk of killing one another in duel. It is forbidden to give a man a black eye, to maim him, to engage in a prize-fight, to fire a gun off in a crowded place. It is even illegal for Sam Patch to jump over Genesee Falls, or for Blondin to walk a tight-rope across the Niagara. The law even goes so far as to make provision for the protection of the mere germ of human life in the womb, in order to prevent the destruction of that which may possibly become a sentient being, and so we have laws against striking a pregnant woman, against procuring abortions, and even against advising the pregnant woman to take medicines with that purpose. And it is not human life alone of which the law is in theory so tender, but it extends its protection over the brute creation, and forbids cruelty to animals.

"But this same society, so careful of human and brute life; so averse to cruelty in every form; that sickens and grows faint at the sight or mere report of bloodshed; that feels a thrill of horror when the daily newspaper tells them that a thousand miles away some

|

poor man is crushed out of existence by the whirling belt or the rushing railroad train; that shudders at the appointment of a judicial execution in its midst, and deafens the ear of the government with appeals for commutation or respite; this society yet deliberately and willfully places the sword of vengeance in the hand of an infuriated wretch, and bids him work his reckless will on his brother whom he supposes to have injured him; and after private vengeance is glutted, makes him the hero of the hour, and applauds the violation of law and justice.

"In view of these things, we cannot escape the conviction, that christianity and civilization have not yet effectually purged the tiger out of men. There still remains much to be done to obliterate the marks that | distinguish barbarous from enlightened communities. There is frequently a feeling in the community that the administration of the laws is not severe enough. There is always a large class of unthinking persons ready to find fault if a criminal is allowed to go at large on bail, or if he receives a milder punishment than uninstructed public opinion would deem it just to inflict. Tribunals are denounced for not doing 'sub stantial justice,' in disregard of oaths, evidence, and the letter of the law. There is a frightful amount of this mob-spirit even among intelligent and reasonable citizens. But the remedy for the state of things complained of is legislation — not lynching. 'Substantial justice' is certain oppression. The lamp-post and the paving stone are unsafe instruments, and an enraged and howling crowd are unreliable ministers of justice. It is an awful thing to take human life, even in pursuance of judicial decrees, and the act should be surrounded by all the sanctions of law, and conducted with dignity and order. It should be resorted to only in the last extremity, for the safety of aggregated mankind, and as the most fearful example to offenders. How, then, can those christian gentlemen who are opposed to capital punishment, both conscientiously and as matter of governmental policy, look so indifferently, or rather half approvingly, on these irresponsible murders which have so long stained the annals of jurisprudence?

"Now, if there is an offense that, in the opinion of society, substantially justifies summary and deadly punishment at the hand of the injured citizen, why not make that offense a statutory crime, and visit upon both the participants the severe penalties of the law? This would be in accordance with the theory upon which, and the purposes for which, society is instituted, and would take away the excuse for private vengeance. Society cannot be benefited by tolerating murder because of adultery. It would, also, deal out a just measure of punishment for the crime. If adultery is justly punished by death, let the guilty parties die; but if it is not deemed deserving of so grave a penalty, then certainly it should not be affixed, and this, in itself, would be a striking evidence of the gross injustice of the present practice. Again, it would or should punish both the criminals. The woman, sinning against the natural purity of her sex, is the more blameworthy, especially where she does so in spite of every artificial advantage of education and precept. And, finally, it would teach the lesson which men are so loath to learn, that the object of punishment is not revenge, but correction."

LAW AND LAWYERS IN LITERATURE.*

XIX. SEWELL,

in his tragedy "Sir Walter Raleigh," thus describes Coke and the crown lawyers in the memorable trial of the hero who gave the title to the play:

"I heard the deep-mouth'd Pack, that scented Blood
From their first starting, and pursued their View
With the Law Musick of long-winded Calumny.
Well I remember one among the Tribe,

A reading Cut-throat skill'd in Parallels,
And dark Comparisons of wond'rous Likeness,
Who in a Speech of unchew'd Eloquence,
Muster'd up all the Crimes since Noah's Days,
To put in Ballance with this fancied Plot,
And made e'en Cataline a Saint to Raleigh;
The Sycophant so much o'er-play'd his Part,

I could have hugg'd him, kiss'd the unskillful Lies
Hot from his venal Tongue."

DANIEL,

in his lines on "Lord Keeper Egerton," has the fol-
lowing, which reminds us of a passage in Montaigne :
"Since her interpretations, and our deeds,
Unto a like infinity arise;

As b'ing a science that by nature breeds
Contention, strife, and ambiguities;

For altercation controversy feeds,

And in her agitation multiplies:

The field of cavil lying all like wide,
Yields like advantage unto either side.

"Which made the grave Castilian king devise
A prohibition that no advocate
Should be convey'd to th' Indian colonies;
Lest their new settling, shaken with debate,
Might take but slender root, and so not rise
To any perfect growth of fine estate;
For having not this skill how to contend,
Th' unnourish'd strife would quickly make an end."

BROOKE,

in "Mustapha," thus speaks of law:

"Laws the next pillars be with which we deal,
As sophistries of ev'ry common weal;
Or rather nets, which people do ask leave
That they to catch their freedoms in, may weave;
And still add more unto the sultan's pow'r,
By making their own frames themselves devour.
These Lesbian rules, with show of real grounds,
Giving right, narrow; will, transcendant, bounds."

DEKKER,

in "Match me in London," observes:

You oft call Parliaments, and there enact
Laws good and wholesome, such as whoso break
Are hung by the purse or neck. But as the weak
And smaller flies i' the spider's web are ta'en,
When great ones tear the web and free remain;
So may that moral tale of you be told
Which once the wolf related: in the fold
The shepherds kill'd a sheep, and eat him there;
The wolf look'd in, and see'ng them at such cheer,
Alas! quoth he, should I touch the least part
Of what you tear, you would pluck out my heart.
Great men make laws, that whosoe'er draws blood
Shall dye; but if they murder flocks, 'tis good.
I'll go eat my lamb at home, sir."

In Tourneur's "Revenger's Tragedy" we find this dialogue:

1. Tell me, what has made thee so melancholy?

2. Why, going to law.

1. Why, will that make a man melancholy?

2. Yes, to look long on ink and black

Buckram. I went to law in anno

Quadragesimo secundo; and I

Waded out of it in anno sexagesimo tertio.

1. What! three and twenty years in law?

2. I have known those that have been five and fifty, And all about pullen and pigs.

1. May it be possible such men should breathe,

To vex the terms so much?

2. 'Tis food to some,

My lord. There are old men at the present

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the office of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States for the Northern District of New York, in the year 1870, by IRVING BROWNE.

That are so poison'd with th' affectation
Of law-words, having had many suits canvass'd,
That their common talk is nothing but barb'rous
Latin; they cannot so much as pray, but

In law, that their sins may be remov'd, with
A writ of error, and their souls fetch'd up
To heaven with a certiorari.

DAVENANT,

in his lines on the "Restauration," says:

"Your clemency has taught us to believe
It wise, as well as virtuous, to forgive.
And now the most offended shall proceed
In great forgiving, till no laws we need.
For law's slow progresses would quickly end,
Could we forgive as fast as men offend.
Revenge of past offences is the cause
Why peaceful minds consented to have laws:
Yet plaintiffs and defendants much mistake
Their cure, and their diseases lasting make;
For to be reconciled, and to comply,

Would prove their cheap and shortest remedy.
The length and charge of law vex all that sue;
Laws punish many, reconcile but few."

In "Gondibert" he says:

"Yet since on all war never needful was,
Wise Aribert did keep the people sure
By laws from little dangers; for the laws
Then from themselves, and not from pow'r secure.

"Else conquerors, by making laws, o'ercome

Their own gain'd pow'r, and leave men fury free: Who growing deaf to pow'r, the laws grow dumb; Since none can plead, where all may judges be.'

MIDDLETON,

in "The Phoenix," has a very amusing character, Tangle, "an old, crafty client, who by the puzzle of suits and shifting of courts has more tricks and starting holes than the dizzy pates of fifteen attorney's; one that has been muzzled in law like a bear, and led by the ring of his spectacles from office to office;" "some say he's as good as a lawyer; marry, I'm sure he's as bad as a knave; if you have any suits in law he's the fittest man for your company; has been so towed and lugged himself, that he is able to afford you more knavish counsel for ten groats than another for ten shillings;" "An old, busy, turbulent fellow; a villainous law-worm that eats holes in poor men's causes."

Then ensues the following scene between Tangle and two suitors, who have come to him for advice: First Suitor. May it please your worship to give me leave?

Tangle. I give you leave, sir; you have your veniam. Now fill me a brown toast, sirrah.

First Suit. Has brought me into the court; marry, my adversary has not declared yet.

Tang. Non declaravit adversarius, sayest thou? what a villain's that! I have a trick to do thee good; I will get thee out a proxy, and make him declare, with a pox to him.

First Suit. That will make him declare, to his sore grief; I thank your good worship; but put case he do declare?

Tang. Si declarasset if he should declare thereFirst Suit. I would be loath to stand out to the judgment of that court.

Tang. Non ad judicium, do you fear corruption? then I'll relieve you again; you shall get a supersedeas non molestandum, and remove it higher.

First Suit. Very good.

Tang. Now, if it should ever come to a testificandum, what be his witnesses.

First Suit, I little fear his witnesses.

Tang. Non metuis testes? more valiant man than Orestes.

First Suit. Please you, sir, to dissolve this into wine, ale or beer. (Giving money.) I come a hundred mile to you, I protest, and leave all other counsel behind

me.

Tang. Nay, you shall always find me a sound card; I stood not a' th' pillory for nothing in '88; all the world knows that. Now let me despatch you, sir. I come to you presenter.

Second Suit. Faith, the party hath removed both body and cause with a habeas corpus.

Tang. Has he that knavery? but has he put in bail above, canst tell?

Second Suit, That I can assure your worship he has not.

Tang. Why, then, thy best course shall be to lay out more money, take out a procedendo, and bring down the cause and him with a vengeance. Second Suit. Then he will come indeed. Tang. As for the other party, let the audita querela alone; take me out a special supplicavit, which will cost you enough, and then you pepper him. For the first party after the procedendo you'll get costs; the cause being found, you'll have a judgment; nunc pro tunc, you'll get a venire facias to warn your jury, a decem tales to fill up the number, and a capias utlegatum for your execution.

Second Suit. I thank you, my learned counsel. Phoenix then enters, telling Tangle he knew him "in octavo of the duke, but still in law:"

Tang. Still in law? I had not breathed else now; tis very marrow, very manna to me to be in law; I'd been dead ere this else. I have found such sweet pleasure in the vexation of others, that I could wish my years over and over again, to see that fellow a beggar, that bawling knave a gentleman, a matter brought e'en to a judgment to-day, as far as e'er 'twas to begin again to-morrow. O raptures! here's a writ of demur, there a procedendo, here a sursurrara, there a capiendo, tricks, delays, money-laws!

Pho. Is it possible, old lad?

Tang. I have been a term-trotter myself any time these five-and-forty years; a goodly time and a gracious; in which space I ha' been at least sixteen times beggared, and got up again; and in the mire again, that I have stunk again, and yet got up again.

Phoe. And so clean and handsome now?

Tang. You see it apparently; I cannot hide it from you; nay, more, in felici hora be it spoken; you see I'm old, yet have I at this present nine-and-twenty suits in law!

Phoe. Deliver us man!

Tang. And all not worth forty shillings.

Pho. May it be believed?

Tang. The pleasure of a man is all.

Pho. An old fellow, and such a stinger!

Tang. A stake pulled out of my hedge, there's one; I was well beaten, I remember, that's two; I took one abed with my wife again her will, that's three; I was called cuckold for my labour, that's four; I took another abed again, that's five; then one called me wittol, that's six; he killed my dog for barking, seven; my maid servant was knocked at that time, eight; my wife miscarried with a push, nine; et sic de cæteris. I have so vexed and beggared the whole parish with

process, subpoenas, and such-like molestations, they are not able to spare so much money from a term as would set up a new weathercock; the church wardens are fain to go to law with the poor's money. Pho. Fie, fie!

Tang. And I so fetch up all the men every term time, that 'tis impossible to be at civil cuckoldry within ourselves, unless the whole country rise upon our wives.

Pho. An excellent stratagem; but of all I most wonder at the continual substance of thy wit, that, having had so many suits in law from time to time, thou hast still money to relieve 'em.

Tang. Why do you so much wonder at that? Why, this is my course; my mare and I come up some five days before a term.

Phoe. A good decorum!

Tang. Here I lodge, as you see, amongst inns and places of most receipt —

Pho. Very wittily.

Tang. By which advantage I dive into countrymen's causes; furnish 'em with knavish counsel, little to their profit; buzzing into their ears that course, this writ, that office, this ultimum refugium; as you know I have words enow for the purpose. Pho. Enow a' conscience, i' faith.

Tang. Enow a' law, no matter for conscience. For which busy and laborious sweating courtesy, they choose but feed me with money, by which I maintain mine own suits; hoh, hoh, hoh! Another special trick I have, nobody must know it, which is to prefer most of these men to one attorney, whom I affect best to answer which kindness of mine he will sweat the better in my cause, and do them the less good; take't of my word, I helped my attorney to more clients last term than he will despatch all his life-time." Phoenix utters these fine lines:

"Thou angel sent amongst us, sober Law,
Made with meek eyes, persuading action,
No loud immodest tongue,

Voic'd like a virgin, and as chaste from sale,
Save only to be heard, but not to rail;
How has abuse deform'd thee to all eyes,
That where thy virtues sat, thy vices rise!
Yet why so rashly for one villain's fault
Do I arraign whole man? Admired Law,
Thy upper parts must needs be sacred, pure,
And incorruptible; they're grave and wise:
"Tis but the dross beneath 'em, and the clouds
That get between thy glory and their praise,
That make the visible and foul eclipse;
For those that are near to thee are upright,
As noble in their conscience as their birth';
Know that damnation is in every bribe,
And rarely put it off from 'em: rate the presenters,
And scourge 'em with five years' imprisonment,
For offering but to tempt 'em.

Thus is true justice exercis'd and us'd;
Woe to the giver when the bribe's refusea!

"Tis not their will to have law worse than war,

Where still the poor'st die first;

To send a man without a sheet to his grave,

Or bury him in his papers;

"Tis not their mind it should be, nor to have

A suit hang longer than a man in chains,

Let him be ne'er so fasten'd. They least know That are above, the tedious steps below." The following is a scene between Falso, who is a justice of the peace, and some suitors:

"First Suit. May it please your good worship, master justice

Fal. Please me and please yourself; that's my word.

First Suit. The party your worship sent for will by no means be brought to appear.

Finely, nobly.

Fal. He will not? then what would you advise me to do therein?

Fal. O desperate !

Tang. A latitat, sword and dagger; a writ of execu

Fal. Thou art come to our present weapon; but what call you sword and buckler, then?

Tang. O, that's out of use now! Sword and buckler was called a good conscience, but that weapon's left long ago; that was too manly a fight, too sound a weapon for these, our days."

66

Tangle's suits go against him, and he raves, pronouncing a terrible, terrible curse upon you all, I wish you to my attorney. See where a præmunire comes, a dedimus potestatem, and that most dreadful

First Suit. Sir, the world esteems it a common favor, upon the contempt of the party, the justice to grant his warrant.

to be taken; I shall rot in fifteen jails, make dice of my bones and let my counsellor's son play away his money with 'em." Phoenix declares that "who so loves law dies either mad or poor," and pronounces

First Suit. I protest, sir, and this gentleman can say as much, it lies upon my half-undoing.

Fal. I cannot see yet that it should be so, - I see not a cross yet. (Aside.)

First Suit. I beseech your worship, shew me your immediate favour, and accept this small trifle but as a remembrance to my succeeding thankfulness.

Fal. Angels? I'll not meddle with 'em; you give 'em to my wife, not to me.

First Suit. Ay, ay, sir.

Fal. But I pray tell me now, did the party viva voce with his own mouth, deliver that contempt, that he would not appear, or did you but jest in't?

First Suit. Jest? no, a' my troth, sir; such was his insolent answer.

Fal. And do you think it stood with my credit to put up such an abuse? Will he not appear, says he? I'll make him appear with a vengeance. Latronello! (Enter Latronello.)

Lat. Does your worship call?

Fal. Draw me a strong-limbed warrant for the gentleman speedily; he will be bountiful to thee. Go and thank him within.

First Suit. I shall know your worship hereafter. Fal. Ay, I pray thee do. (Exeunt Suitors with Latronello.) Two angels, one party, four another; and I think it a great spark of wisdom and policy, if a man come to me for justice, first, to know his griefs by his fees, which be light, and which be heavy; he may counterfeit else, and make me do justice for nothing; I like not that; for where I mean to be just, let me be paid well for it; the deed so rare purges the bribe."

A fencing match ensues between Falso and Tangle, introductory to which the latter describes the weapons:

"Tang. Your longsword, that's a writ of delay. Fal. Mass, that sword's long enough, indeed; I ha' known it to reach the length of fifteen terms. Tang. Fifteen terms? that's but a short sword. Fal. Methinks 'tis long enough; proceed, sir. Tang. A writ of delay, longsword; scandala magnatum, backsword.

Fal. Scandals are backswords, indeed.
Tang. Capias cominus, case of rapiers.

be any way altered from what he was 'tis for the better." Tangle says he will set himself "free with a deliberandum;" prays for "an audita querela or a testificandum," "an extent, a proclamation, a summons, a recognisance, attachment, and injunction! A writ, a seizure, a writ of 'praisement, an absolution, a quietus est!" His distemper is exorcised by Quieto in the following formula:

"The balsam of a temperate brain
I pour into this thirsty vein,
And with this blessed oil of quiet,
Which is so cheap that few men buy it,
Thy stormy temples I allay;

Thou shalt give up the devil, and pray;
Forsake his works, they 're foul and black,
And keep thee bare in purse and back.
No more shalt thou in paper quarrel,
To dress up apes in good apparel.
He throws his stock and all his flock
Into a swallowing gulf,
That sends his goose unto his fox,
His lamb unto his wolf.
Keep thy increase,

And live at peace,

For war's not equal to this battle;
That eats but men; this men and cattle:
Therefore no more this combat choose,
Where he that wins does always lose;

And those that gain all with this curse receive it,
From fools they get it, to their sons they leave it."

The following deed by the "Captain," who sells his wife just as he is going a voyage, might be a useful precedent to those on whom the obligations of matrimony rest lightly, and save them the expense and annoyance of several weeks' residence in some western state:

"To all good and honest Christian people, to whom this present writing shall come, know you for a certain, that I, captain, for and in the consideration of five hundred crowns, have clearly bargained, sold, given, granted, assigned, and set over, and by these presents do clearly bargain, sell, give, grant, assign, and set over, all the right, estate, title, interest, demand, possession, and term of years to come, which I, the said captain, have, or ought to have, in and to Madonna Castiza, my most virtuous, modest, loving, and obedient wife, together with all and singular those admirable qualities with which her noble breast is furnished; in primis, the beauties of her mind, chastity, temperance, and, above all, patience, excellent in the best of music, in voice delicious, in conference wise and pleasing, of age contentful, neither too young to be apish, nor too old to be sottish, and, which is the best of a wife, a most comfortable sweet companion,