In a book of great curiosity entitled A Werke for Housholders, &c., by a professed Brother of Syon, Richarde Whitforde, 1537, is the following caution on the above subject: "The ghostely enemy doth deceyve many persones by the pretence and coloure of matrimony in private and secrete contractes. For many men, when they can nat obteyne theyr unclene desyre of the woman, wyll promyse maryage and ther upon make a contracte promyse, and gyve faythe and trouth eche unto other, saying, Here, 1 take the, Margery, unto my wyfe, and therto I plyght the my troth.' And she agayne unto him in lyke maner. And after that done, they suppose they maye lawfully use theyr unclene behavyoure, and sometyme the acte and dede dothe folowe, unto the greate offence of God and their owne souls. It is a great jeopardy therefore to make any suche contractes, specially amonge themselfe secretely alone without recordes, which muste be two at the lest."

In Strype's Annals of the Reformation, i. App. p. 57, among the Interrogatories for the doctrine and manners of mynisters, &c., early in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, is the following, which clearly implies the then use and abuse of betrothing: "28. Whether they have exhorted yong folke to absteyne from privy contracts, and not to marry without the consent of such their parents and fryends as have auctority over them, or no." I have no doubt but that in every of the privy contracts to be cautioned against by the above, there was a "mutual interchangement of rings," and the indulgence of every familiarity.

"The antient Frenchmen had a ceremonie, that when they would marrie, the bridegrome should pare his nayles and send them unto his new wife; which done, they lived together afterwards as man and wife." Vaughan's Golden Grove, 1608.

In the old play, A Woman's a Weather-cocke, Scudmore, ii. 1, tells the priest who is going to marry his mistress to Count Fredericke :

"She is contracted, sir, nay married

Unto another man, though it want forme:

And such strange passages and mutuall vowes,

"Twould make your short haire start through youre blacke Cap, should you but heare it."

It was anciently very customary, among the common sort of people, to break a piece of gold or silver in token of a

verbal contract of marriage and promises of love; one half whereof was kept by the woman, while the other part remained with the man. Strutt, in his Manners and Customs,2 has illustrated this by an extract from the old play of the Widow. From this it also appears that no dry bargain would hold on such occasions. For on the Widow's complaining that Ricardo had artfully drawn her into a verbal contract, she is asked by one of her suitors, "Stay, stay,-you broke no gold between you?" To which she answers, "We broke nothing, sir." And, on his adding, "Nor drank to each other?" she replies, "Not a drop, sir.' Whence he draws this conclusion, "that the contract cannot stand good in law." The latter part of the ceremony seems alluded to in the following passage in Middleton's play of No Wit like a Woman's: when my lip touch'd the contracting cup."

Ev'n

We find, in Hudibras, I. i. 487, that the piece broken between the contracted lovers must have been a crooked one :

"Like commendation ninepence crook't,

With to and from my love it lookt."

A circumstance confirmed also in the Connoisseur, No. 56, with an additional custom of giving locks of hair woven in a true lover's knot. "If, in the course of their amour, the mistress gives the dear man her hair wove in a true lover's knot, or breaks a crooked ninepence with him, she thinks herself as

The dialogue between Kitty and Filbert, in the What d'ye call it, by Gay, is much to our purpose:

"Yet, Justices, permit us, ere we part,

To break this ninepence as you've broke our heart." "Filbert (breaking the ninepence). As this divides, thus are we torn in twain.

"Kitty (joining the pieces). And as this meets, thus may we meet again."

2A MS. in the Harleian Library, No. 980, cited by Strutt, states that, “by the civil law, whatsoever is given ex sponsalitia largitate, betwixt them that are promised in marriage, hath a condition (for the most part silent) that it may be had again if marriage ensue not; but if the man should have had a kiss for his money, he should lose one half of that which he gave. Yet, with the woman it is otherwise, for, kissing is not kissing, whatsoever she gave, she may ask and have it again. However, this extends only to gloves, rings, bracelets, and such like small wares."-Manners and Customs, iii. 153.

sured of his inviolate fidelity." This "bent token" has not been overlooked by Gay, Fifth Past., 129:

"A ninepence bent

A token kind to Bumkinet is sent."

It appears to have been formerly a custom also for those who were betrothed to wear some flower as an external and conspicuous mark of their mutual engagement; the conceit of choosing such short-lived emblems of their plighted loves cannot be thought a very happy one. That such a custom, however, did certainly prevail, we have the testimony of Spenser, in his Shepherd's Calendar for April, as follows:

Sops-in-wine were a species of flowers among the smaller kind of single gilliflowers or pinks.

Camden, in his Ancient and Modern Manners of the Irish, says, that "they are observed to present their lovers with bracelets of women's hair, whether in reference to Venus' cestus or not, I know not." Gough's Camden, iii. 658. See also Memorable Things noted in the Description of the World, p. 113.

In the old play, entitled the Dutch Courtezan, a pair of lovers are introduced plighting their troth as follows: "Enter Freeville. Pages with torches. Enter Beatrice above." After some very impassioned conversation, Beatrice says: “I give you faith; and prethee, since, poore soule! I am so easie to beleeve thee, make it much more pitty to deceive me. Weare this sleight favour in my remembrance," (throweth down a ring to him).

"Frev. Which, when I part from,

Hope, the best of life, ever part from me!

- Graceful mistresse, our nuptiall day holds.

Beatrice. With happy constancye a wished day." [Exit.

Of gentlemen's presents on similar occasions, a lady, in Cupid's Revenge (a play of Beaumont and Fletcher's) says:

"Given earings we will wear;
Bracelets of our lovers' hair,

Which they on our arms shall twist,
(With their names carv'd) on our wrist."

66

In Greene's Defence of Conny-Catching, is the following passage: Is there not heere resident about London, a crew of terryble hacksters in the habite of gentlemen wel appareled? and yet some weare bootes for want of stockings, with a locke worne at theyr lefte eare for their mistrisse favour." The subsequent is taken from Lodge's Wit's Miserie, 1596, p. 47: "When he rides, you shall know him by his fan and if he walke abroad, and misse his mistres favour about his neck, arme, or thigh, he hangs the head like the soldier in the field that is disarmed."

:

Among affiancing customs, the following will appear singular. Park, in his Travels in the Interior of Africa, tells us: “At Baniseribe, a Slatee having seated himself upon a mat by the threshold of his door, a young woman (his intended bride) brought a little water in a calabash, and, kneeling down before him, desired him to wash his hands; when he had done this, the girl, with a tear of joy sparkling in her eye, drank the water; this being considered as the greatest proof of her fidelity and love.

We gather from Howe's Additions to Stow's Chronicle, that in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, it was "the custome for maydes and gentilwomen to give their favorites, as tokens of their love, little handkerchiefs of about three or foure inches square, wrought round about, and with a button or a tassel at each corner, and a little one in the middle, with silke and threed; the best edged with a small gold lace, or twist, which being foulded up in foure crosse foldes, so as the middle might be seene, gentlemen and others did usually weare them in their hatts, as favours of their loves and mistresses. Some cost six pence apiece, some twelve pence, and the richest sixteene pence."

In the old play of the Vow-Breaker, or the Fayre Maid of Clifton, 1636, act i. sc. 1, Miles, a miller, is introduced, telling his sweetheart, on going away to the wars, "Mistress Ursula, 'tis not unknowne that I have lov'd you; if I die, it shall be for your sake, and it shall be valiantly: I leave an hand-kercher with you; 'tis wrought with blew Coventry: let me not, at my returne, fall to my old song, she had a clowte of mine sowde with blew Coventry, and so hang myself at your infidelity."

The subsequent passage, from the Arraignment of lewd,

idle, froward, and unconstant Women, 1632, points out some of the vagaries of lovers of that age: "Some thinke, that, if a woman smile on them, she is presentlie over head and eares in love. One must weare her glove, another her garter, another her colours of delight," &c. pp. 31, 32. As does the following epigram of a still earlier date, in the House of Correction, by I. H., sm. 8vo. 1619:

"Little Pigmeus weares his mistris glove,

Her ring and feather (favours of her love);
Who could but laugh to see the little dwarfe
Grace out himselfe with her imbrodered scarfe?

'Tis strange, yet true, her glove, ring, scarfe, and fan,
Makes him (unhansome) a well-favour'd man."

In Quarles' Shepheard's Oracles, 4to. 1646, p. 63, is the following passage:

"The musick of the oaten reeds perswades

Their hearts to mirth.

And whilst they sport and dance, the love-sick swains
Compose rush-rings and myrtleberry chains,

And stuck with glorious king-cups, and their bonnets
Adorn'd with lawrell-slips, chaunt their love-sonnets,
To stir the fires and to encrease the flames

In the cold hearts of their beloved dames."

A joint-ring appears to have been anciently a common token among betrothed lovers. These, as we gather from the following beautiful passage in Dryden's play of Don Sebastian, 1690, p. 122, were by no means confined to the lower orders of society:

"A curious artist wrought 'em,

With joynts so close as not to be perceiv'd;

Yet are they both each other's counterpart.

(Her part had Juan inscrib'd, and his had Zayda.

You know those names were theirs :) and, in the midst,

A heart divided in two halves was plac'd.

Now if the rivets of those rings, inclos'd,
Fit not each other, I have forg'd this lye:
But if they join, you must for ever part.'

It appears from other passages in this play that one of these rings was worn by Sebastian's father, the other by Almeyda's mother, as pledges of love. Sebastian pulls off his, which had been put on his finger by his dying father; Almeyda does the same with hers, which had been given her by her mother at parting; and Alvarez unscrews both the rings, and fits one half to the other.