a dear friend or near kinsman come as guest to his house, to visit him, he will never let him be out of his own sight and company, lest, peradventure, &c.  If the necessity of his business be such that he must go from home, he doth either lock her up, or commit her with a deal of injunctions and protestations to some trusty friends, him and her he sets and bribes to oversee:  one servant is set in his absence to watch another, and all to observe his wife, and yet all this will not serve, though his business be very urgent, he will when he is halfway come back in all post haste, rise from supper, or at midnight, and be gone, and sometimes leave his business undone, and as a stranger court his own wife in some disguised habit.  Though there be no danger at all, no cause of suspicion, she live in such a place, where Messalina herself could not be dishonest if she would, yet he suspects her as much as if she were in a bawdy-house, some prince’s court, or in a common inn, where all comers might have free access.  He calls her on a sudden all to nought, she is a strumpet, a light housewife, a bitch, an arrant whore.  No persuasion, no protestation can divert this passion, nothing can ease him, secure or give him satisfaction.  It is most strange to report what outrageous acts by men and women have been committed in this kind, by women especially, that will run after their husbands into all places and companies, [6130]as Jovianus Pontanus’s wife did by him, follow him whithersoever he went, it matters not, or upon what business, raving like Juno in the tragedy, miscalling, cursing, swearing, and mistrusting every one she sees.  Gomesius in his third book of the Life and Deeds of Francis Ximenius, sometime archbishop of Toledo, hath a strange story of that incredible jealousy of Joan queen of Spain, wife to King Philip, mother of Ferdinand and Charles the Fifth, emperors; when her husband Philip, either for that he was tired with his wife’s jealousy, or had some great business, went into the Low Countries:  she was so impatient and melancholy upon his departure, that she would scarce eat her meat, or converse with any man; and though she were with child, the season of the year very bad, the wind against her, in all haste she would to sea after him.  Neither Isabella her queen mother, the archbishop, or any other friend could persuade her to the contrary, but she would after him.  When she was now come into the Low Countries, and kindly entertained by her husband, she could not contain herself, [6131]"but in a rage ran upon a yellow-haired wench,” with whom she suspected her husband to be naught, “cut off her hair, did beat her black and blue, and so dragged her about.”  It is an ordinary thing for women in such cases to scratch the faces, slit the noses of such as they suspect; as Henry the Second’s importune Juno did by Rosamond at Woodstock; for she complains in a [6132]modern poet, she scarce spake,

       “But flies with eager fury to my face,
        Offering me most unwomanly disgrace. 
        Look how a tigress, &c. 
        So fell she on me in outrageous wise,
        As could disdain and jealousy devise.”