¶Where the Authour speaketh of the birth and lynage of the wyse Philo­sopher and Emperour, Marcus Aurelius And he putteth also at the begin­ning of this Booke thrée Chapters, wherin he entreateth of the discourse of his life: for by his Epistles and doctrine, the whole of this presente woorke is proued. Cap. i.

AFter the death of the Emperoure Antonius Pius, in the 695. yeares from the foundation of Rome, and in the 173. Olimpiade: Fuluius Cato, & Gneus Patroclus then being consulles: the fourth daie of October, in the highe Ca­pitoll of Rome, at sute of the whole Romaine people & with thassent of the sacred Senate Marcus Aurelius An­tonius was proclaymed Emperoure vniuersall of the whole Romaine monarche. This noble prince was na­turally of Rome borne in the mount Celio, on the sixt daye before the Kalen­des of May, which after the Latines accounte is the .xxvi. day of April. His Graundefather was called Annius Verus, and was chosene senatoure in the tyme of the Emperours Titus, and Vespasian, hys greate graunde fa­there was named Annius Verus, whiche was borne in Spayne in the free towne of Gububa, whenne the warres were moste cruel betwene Caesar and Pompeius: at what time many Spanyardes fled to Rome, and manye Ro­maynes ranne into Spayne. By this meanes this Emperour had a greate graundfather a Romayne, and a greate graundmother a Spanyard. Hys father was named Annius Verus after his grandfather and great grandfa­ther, by reason wherof the auncient historiographers call him Marcus Antoni­us Verus. And true it is that the Emperour Adrian called him Marcus Verissi­mus, for that he neuer forged lie nor swarued at anye tyme from the trueth. These Annij Veri wer a kinred in Rome (as Iulius Capitolinus reporteth) which vaunted themselues to come of Numa Pompilius and Quintus Curtius the fa­mous Romaine: which (to worke the Romaine people safetie, and his owne person euerlasting memorie) willingly threw him selfe into the lake, which afterwards was called Curtius. That as then was sene in Rome. This Em­perours mother was called Domitia Camilla, as recounteth Cinna in the boo­kes that he wrote of Romain pedigrees. That stocke of Camilli, was in those dayes highly honoured in Rome: for that they conueighed their dissent from that Camillus, whych was the renowmed and valiaunt Romain captayne, who deliuered Rome when the Gavvles had taken it and besieged the Capi­toll. The men that sprange of this linage bare the name of Camilli, for remē brance of this Camillus. And the woman that came of the same stocke kepte the name of Camille, in memorie of a doughter of the sayde Camillus. Thys Camilla refused mariage, and chose to liue amonge the vessall virgines: and [Page] ther longe space remayned enduring a sharpe and hard lyfe. And she was so vertuous a Romayne and precise in her life, that in the time of Seuerus Em­perour of Rome, her tombe was honoured as a relique, whereon was en­graued this Epitaphe.

And this was written in heroycal verse in the Greeke tongue with a mar­uelouse haughtie stile. But to our mater, ye shal vnderstand that the Ro­maynes kepte a certayne Lawe in the 12. tables, the woordes wherof were these. We ordeyne and commaund, that al the Romaynes shal for euer haue specyall priuiledge in euery such place, where theyr auncestoures haue done to the Romayne people any notable seruice. For it is reason, that where the citizen aduentureth hys lyfe, there the citie should do him some honor after hys death. By vertue of this lawe, all the familie of Camilli euer enioyed the keping of the hyghe Capitoll, for that by hys force and pollicye he chased the french men from the siege. Truely it is not vnknowē that this noble knight and valyant captayne Camille dyd other thynges as great, and greater than this: but because it was done within the circuite of Rome, it was estemed aboue all hys other actes and prowes. And herein the Romaynes swarued not farre from reason, for that amongest all princelye vertues is estemed to be the chiefest and worthyest, whych is employed to the profyt of the comon wealth. The Romayne Croniclers wyth teares cease not to lamēt the ruine of their countrye, seynge that varietie of tyme, the multytude of tyrauntes, the crueltye of cyuill warres were occasion that the aunciente state of the Romayn gouernment came to vtter destruction, and in steede therof a new and euyl trade of lyfe to be placed. And hereof no man ought to maruaile, for it chaunseth throughout al realmes and nacions, by oft chaunging gouernours that among the people dayly spryngeth sondry new vices. Pulio sayth, that for no alteracion whych befell to the common weale, for no calamitye that euer Rome suffred, that priuiledge was taken away from the Image of Camilli (I meane the gouernment of the high Capitol) except it were in the time of Silla the consul, when this familye was soore persecuted, for none other cause but for that they fauoured the consull Marius. Thys cruel Silla beinge deade, and the piteful Iulius Cesar preuailinge, al the banyshed men frome Rome returned home agayne to the commonne wealthe. As tou­chinge the auncestours of the Emperoure Marcus Aurelius, what hath bene their trade of lyfe, estate, pouertye, or riches, standinge infauour or dis­pleasoure, what prosperitie or aduersitie they haue had or suffred, we fynde not in wrytinges, thoughe with greate dilygence they haue bene serched for. And the cause hereof was, for that the auncient writers of y^e Romaine histories, touched the lyues of the emperours fathers (specially, when they were made princes) more for the good merites that were in the children, then for y^e great estimaciō that came from the fathers. Iulius Capitolinus saith [Page 2] that Annius Verus (father of Marcus Aurelius) was Pretor of the Rhodian ar­mies, and also wardein in other frontiers, in the time of Traian the good, Adrian the wyse, and Antonye the mercifull. Whiche Emperours trusted none with theyr armies but discrete and valiaunt men. For good princes chose alway suche captaines as can with wisedome guide the armye, and with valiauntnes giue the battaile. Thoughe the Romaynes had sondrye warres in diuerse places, yet chefelye they kept great garrisons alwayes in foure partes of the world. That is to saye, in Bizance (which now is Con­stantinople) to resist the Parthiens, in Gades (whiche now is called Galiz) to withstand the Portugales: in the riuer of Rein, to defend them selues from the Germaines: and at Colosses (whiche now is called the Ile of Rhodes) for to subdue the Barbariens. In the moneth of Ianuary when the Senate distributed their offices, the dictatoure being appointed for 6. monethes: and the. 2. Consulles chosen for one yere: incontinently in the .3. place they chose 4. of the most renowmed personnes to defende the sayd 4, daungerous frō ­tiers. For the Romaynes neither feared the paynes of hell, nor trusted for reward in heauen: but sought by all occasions possible in their life to leaue some notable memory of them after their deathe. And that Romaine was counted most valiante & of the Senate best fauoured, to whom they com­mitted the charge of the moste cruell and daungerous warres. For their strife was not to beare rule and to be in office to get mony: but to be in the frontiers to ouercome their enemies. In what estimacion these 4. frontiers wer we may easely perceiue, by that we see the most noble Romaines haue passed som part of their youth in those places as captaines, vntill such time that for more weyghtie affaires they were appointed from thense to some other places. For at that time there was no worde so greauous and iniu­rious to a citezin, as to saye go, thou hast neuer ben brought vp in the war­res: and to proue the same by examples, the great Pompey passed the winter season in Constantinople, the aduenturous Scipio in Colonges, the couragious Caesar in Gades, and the renowmed Marius in Rhodes. And these. 4. wer not on­ly in the frontiers afore sayde in their youthe, but ther they dyd such valiaunt actes, that the memory of them remayned euermore after their death. These thynges I haue spoken to proue, sythe wee fynde that Marcus Aurelius fa­ther was captaine of one of those .4. frontiers: it followeth that he was a man of singuler wisedome and prowesse. For as Scipio sayde to his frende Masinissa. in affrike it is not possible for a Romaine captayne to want eyther wisedome or courage, for thereunto they were predestined at their birthe. We haue no autentike authorities that showeth vs from whence, when, or howe, in what countreis and with what personnes this captaine passed his youth. And the cause is, for that y^e Romain Croniclers wer not accustomed to write the thynges done by their prince before they were created: but only the actes of yonge men, whiche from their youth had their hartes stoutlye bent to great aduenturs. And in my opinion it is wel done. For it is greater honor to obteine, an empire by policie & wisedom then to haue it by discent, so y^t ther be no tirannie. Suetonius Tranquillus in his first boke of Emperours counteth at large the aduenturous enterprises taken in hand by Iulius Caesar in his yong age, & how farre vnlikely they wer from thought that he should [Page] euer obtayne the Roman Empiree writing this to shew vnto princes, how earnestlye Iulius Cesars harte was bent to winne the Romayne Monarchie, and likewise how wisdom fayled him in behauing him selfe therein. A phi­losopher of Rome wrote to Phalaris the tiraunt, which was in Cicilia, asking him why he possessed the Realme so longe by tirannye? Phalaris aunswered hym agayne in another Epystle in these fewe wordes Thou callest me ty­raunt bicause I haue taken this realme & kept it this .32. yeres I graunt the (quod he) that I was a tiraunte in vsurpyng it: For no manne occupyeth another mannes ryght but by reason he is a tyraunte. But yet I will not agree to be called a tyraunte, sithe it is nowe .xxxii. yeares sins I haue possessed it. And though I haue atcheued it by tyrannie, yet I haue gouer­ned it by wisedome. And I let thee to vnderstande, that to take an other mans goods, it is an easie thing to conquer, but a hard thing to kepe an easy thing: but to kepe them, I ensure the it is very hard. The Emperour Mar­cus Aurelius maried the doughter of Antonius Pius, the 16. Emperour of Rome, and she was named Faustina, who as sole heire had the Empire: & so through mariage Marcus Aurelius came to be Emperour: this Faustine was not so ho­nest and chast: as she was faire and beautifull. She had by him two son­nes, Commodus, and Verissimus, Marcus Aurelius triumphed twise, once when he ouercame the Perthians, and an other time when he conquered the Argonantes He was a man very wel learned and of a deepe vnderstanding, He was as excellent both in the Greke and latin, as he was in his mother tongue. He was very temperate in eating and drinking, he wrote many thinges ful of good learning & swete sentences: He dyed in conquering the realme of Pan­nonia, whiche is now called Hongarie. His death was asmuch bewayled, as his lyfe was desired. And he was loued so intierlye in the citye of Rome, y^t euery Romane had a statue of him in his house, to thende the memorie of him (among them) should neuer decay. The which was neuer red that they euer did for any other king or Emperoure of Rome, no not for Augustus Ce­sar who was beste beloued of all other Emperours of Rome. He gouerned the empire for the space of 18. yeres with vprighte iustice: and dyed at the age of 63 yeres with much honour, in the yere clymatericke, which is in the 60. and 3. yeres wherein the lyfe of man ronneth in great peril. For then are accomplyshed the nine seuens, or the seuen nynes. Aulus Gelius writeth a chapiter of this matter in y^e boke De noctibus Atticis. Marcus Aurelius was a prince of lyfe most pure, of doctrine most profound, & of fortune most happie of all other princes in the world, saue only for Faustine his wife and Commodus his sonne And to the ende we maye see what Marcus Aurelius was from his in­fancie, I haue put here an epistle of his which is this.

¶Of a letter whych Marcus Aurelius sent to his frend Pulio, wherein hee declareth the order of hys whole lyfe: and amongest other thinges he ma­keth mencion of a thyng that happened to a Romaine Censor with hys host of Campagna. Cap. ii.

MArcus Aurelius only Emperour of Rome greteth the his old frend Pulio wisheth health to thy parson, and peace to the commen wealth. As I was in the temple of the vestall virgens, a letter of thine was presen­ted [Page 3] vnto me, which was writen long before, and greatly desired of me: but the best therof is, that thou wryting vnto me briefly, desirest that I should writ vnto the at large. Which is vndecent for the authoritie of him that is chiefe of the empire, in especial if such one be couetous: for to a prince there is no greater infamy, then to be lauishe of words, and scant of rewards. Thou wrytest to me of thy griefe in thy legge, and that thy wounde is great: and truly the payne thereof troubleth me at my hart, and I am righte sory that thou wantest that which is necessarie for thy health, and that good that I do wishe the. For in the ende all the trauailes of the life may be endured, so that the body with diseases be not troubled. Thou lettest me vnderstande by thy letters that thou art arriued at Rhodes, and requireste me to write vnto the howe I lyued in that place when I was younge, what time I gaue my minde to studie, & likewise what the discourse of my life was vn­til the time of my being Emperoure of Rome. In this case trulye I meruell at the not a lytle that thou shouldest aske me such a question, and so muche the more that thou diddest not consider, y^t I cannot without great trouble and paine answere thy demaunde. For the doinges of youthe in a younge man were neuer so vpright and honest, but it were more honesty to amend them, then to declare them. Annius Verus my father shewing vnto me his fatherly loue (not accomplishing yet fully 13 yeres) drew me from the vices of Rome, and sent me to Rhodes to learne science, howbeit better acccompa­nyed with bookes, then loden with money, where I vsed suche dilygence, and fortune so fauoured me, that at the age of 26. yeres I red openly natu­tall and moral philosophy, and also Rethoricke: and ther was nothing gaue me such occasion to study, and read bookes, as the want of moneye, for po­uertie causeth good mens children to bee vertuous, so that they attaine to that by vertue, which others come vnto by riches. Trulye frende Pulio I found great want of the pleasures of Rome, specially at my first comminge into the Ile, but after I had redde philosophie 10 yeares at Rhodes, I toke my selfe as one borne in the countrey, And I thinke my couersacion among them caused it to seme no lesse. For it is a rule that neuer faileth, that ver­tue maketh a straunger grow natural in a straunge country: and vyce ma­keth the natural a straūger in his owne country. Thou knowest wel how my father Annius Verus was 15. yeres a captaine in the frontiers against the Barbarous, by the commaundement of Adrian my lorde and maister, and Antonius Pius my father in law, both of theym prynces of famous memorie: which recōmended me ther to his old frendes, who with fatherly counsel exhorted me to forget the vyces of Rome, and to accustome me to the vertues of Rhodes. And trulye it was but nedeful for me, for the naturall loue of the countrye oft tymes bringeth domage to him that is borne therein leadinge his desier stil to retourne home. Thou shalt vnderstand that the Rhodians are men of much curtesy, & requyting beneuolence, whych chaunseth in few Iles: because that naturally they are personnes deceitful, subtile, vnthanke­ful, and ful of suspiciō. I speake this bycause my fathers frends alwaies suc­coured me wyth counsayle and money: which two thinges were so necessarie, that I could not tell which of them I had most nede of. For the straun­ger maketh his profit with moneye to withstand disdainfull pouertie, and [Page] profitteth him selfe with counsell to forget the swete loue of his country. I desired then to reade philosophy in Rhodes so long as my father continued there captaine, But that could not be, for Adrian my lord sent for me to re­turne to Rome, which pleased me not a lytle, albeit (as I haue said) they v­sed me as if I had ben borne in that Iland, for in theend although the eyes be fedde with delyght to see straunge thinges, yet therefore the hart is not satisfyed. And this is al that toucheth the Rhodians. I will now tel the also how before my going thether I was borne and brought vp in mount Celio (in Rome) with my father from mine infancie. In the common wealthe of Rome ther was a law vsed, & by custome wel obserued, that no citizē which enioyed any lybertie of Rome (after their sonnes had accomplyshed .10. yea­res) should be so bold or hardy to suffer them to walke the streates like va­cabondes. For it was a custome in Rome, that the chyldren of the sena­tours should sucke til two yeres of age, til 4. they should liue at theyr own wylles, tyl 6. they should reede, tyl 8 they should wryte, tyll 10. they should study gramer, & 10. yeares accomplished they should then take some craft or occupacion, or gyue them selues to study, or go to the warres, so y^t through­out Rome no man was idell. In one of the lawes of the 12 tables weare written these wordes. We ordeine and commaund that euery cytizen that dwelleth wythin the circuite of Rome or lybertyes of the same, from 10 ye­res vpwardes to kepe hys sonne well ordered. And if perchaunce the chyld being ydel, or that no man teacheth hym any craft or scyence, should therby peraduenture fal to vyce, or commyt some wycked offence, that then the father no lesse then the sonne should be punyshed. For ther is nothing so much breadeth vyce amongest the people, as when the fathers are to neclygent, and the chyldren to bold. And furthermore another law sayd. We ordeine and commaunde that after 10. yeares be past, for the fyrst offence that the chyld shal commyt in Rome, that the father shalbe bound to send hym forth some where els, or to be bound suertye for the good demeanour of hys son. For it is not reason that the fonde loue of the father to the sonne should be an occasion why the multytude shuld be sclaundered: because al the wealth of the Empyre consisteth in kepyng and mayntaynyng quyet men, and in banishyng and expellyng sedycious personnes. I wyll tell the one thyng my Pulyo, and I am sure thou wylt meruell at it, and it is thys. When Rome tryumphed and by good wysedom gouerned all the worlde, the inhabitan­tes in the same surmounted the nomber of two hundreth thousand parson­nes, which was a maruelouse matter. Amongeste whom (as a man maye iudge) ther was aboue a hundreth thousand chyldren. But they whych had the charge of them kept them in such awe and doctryne, that they banyshed from Rome one of the sonnes of Cato vticensis for breakyng an erthen pot in a maydens handes whych went to fetche water. In lyke manner they ba­nyshed the sonne of good Cinna, onlye for entrynge into a garden to gather fruyte, And none of these two were as yet fyftyne yeares olde. For at that tyme they chastised them more for the offences done in gest, then they doo now for those which are don in good earnest. Our Cicero saith in his booke De legibus, that the Romaynes neuer toke in any thing more paynes, then to restreine the chyldren aswel old as young from ydlenes. And so long endu­red [Page 4] the feare of their lawe, and honour of theyr common wealthe, as they suffered not their children lyke vacabondes idelly to wander the strea­tes. For that countrey may aboue all other be counted happye, where eche one enioyeth hys owne laboure, and no man lyueth by the swette of ano­ther. I let the know my Pulio, that when I was a chylde (althoughe I am not yet very olde) none durste be so hardy to go commonly throughe Rome, wythout a token about hym of the crafte and occupacion he exercysed, and whereby he lyued. And if anye man had bene taken contrary, the chyldren dyd not onlye crie out of hym in the streates as of a foole: but also the Cen­sour afterwardes condemned hym to trauayle wyth the captynes in com­mon workes. For in Rome they estemed it no lesse shame to the child which was idle, then they dyd in Grece to the phylosopher whych was ignorant. And to thende thou mayest se thys I write vnto the to be no new thynge, thou oughtest to know, that the Emperour caused to be borne afore hym a brenning brand, and the counsel an axe of armes, the priestes a hat in maner of a coyfe, The Senatours a crusible on their armes, the Iudges a lytle ba­lance, the Tribunes Maces, the gouernours a scepter, the Byshoppes hat­tes of floures, The Oratours a booke, the cutlers a swerd, the goldsmithes a pot to melt gold: and so forth of al other offices, strangers excepted, which went al marked after one sort in Rome: For they woulde not agree that a stranger shoulde be apparailed & marked according to the childrē of Rome. O my frend Pulio, it was suche a ioye then to beholde the discipline and pro­speritie of Rome, and it is now at this present suche a grefe to see the cala­mitie thereof, that by the immortall gods I sweare to the, and so the god Mars guyde my hande in warres, that the man which now is best orde­red, is not worthe so much as the most dissolute person was then. For then amongest a thousande they could not finde one man vicious in Rome, and nowe amonges twentie thousande they cannot finde one vertuous in all Italye. I know not why the gods are so cruel againste me, and fortune so contrary, that this 40. yeares I haue done nothynge but wepe and la­mente to see the good men die, and immediatly to be forgotten: and on the other side to see the wicked liue and to be alwayes in prosperitye. Vniuer­sallye the noble harte maye endure al the troubles of mans life, vnlesse it be to see a good man decay, and the wicked to prosper: which my harte cannot abyde, nor yet my tonge dissemble. And touchynge this matter my frende Pulio, I will write vnto the one thynge whiche I founde in the bookes of the highe Capitoll, where he treateth of the time of Marius and Sylla, whiche trulye is worthy of memorye and that is this. There was at Rome a cu­stome and a lawe inuiolable, sith the time of Cinna, that a Censour expresse­ly commaunded by the senate should goe and visite the prouinces whyche were subiecte vnto it throughe out all Italye: and the cause of those visita­cions was for three thinges. The firste, to see if any complained of iustice, the second, to see in what case the common wealthe stode. The thirde, to thende that yearelye they should render obedience to Rome. O my frende Pulio, how thinkest thou? if they visited Italye at this presente, as at that time they surueyed Rome, how ful of errous should they fynd it: And what decaye shoulde they see therein thinkest thou? Trulye (as thou knowest) they [Page] should see the common wealthe destroyed, iustice not ministed, and more­ouer Rome not obeyed, and not without iuste cause. For of righte oughte that common wealthe to be distroyed, which ons of al other hath bene the flower, and most beautified with vertues: and after becommeth moste ab­hominable and defiled with vices. The case was suche, that two yeares af­ter the warres of Sylla, and Marius, the Censor went yearely to Nola (whiche is a place in the prouince of Campania) to visite the same countrey as the cu­stome was. And in those dayes the tyme and season being verye hote, and the prouince quiet, not dysturbed with warres, and perceiuyng that none of the people cam to him. The censour sayde to the hoste which lodged hym.

Frend I am a iudge sent from the Senatours of Rome to visite this land. Therefore goe thy wayes quicklye and call the good men hither whiche be amonge the people, For I haue to saye vnto theym from the sacred senate. This hoste (who peraduenture was wyser then the Romayne iudge, al­thoughe not so ryche) goeth to the graues of the dead, whiche in that place were buryed, and spake vnto them with a loude voyce sayinge. O ye good men, come awaye with me quickelie, for the Romayne Censour calleth you. The iudge perceiuyng they came not, sent hym agayne to cal them: and the host as he dyd at the first tyme, so dyd he nowe at the seconde. For when he was at the graues with a loud voyce he said. O ye good men come hither, for the censour of Rome woulde talke with you. And lykewyse they were called the third tyme, with the selfsame wordes. And the Censour seyng no body come, was maruelous angrie, and said to the hoste. Sithe these good men dysdayne to come at my commandement, and shewe their allegiaunce to the sacred senate of Rome (to thintente I maye punyshe this their dyso­bedience) I wil goe vnto them my selfe, Come and go with me. The poore hoste without any wordes, takyng the censour by the hand, led him to the graues where he had ben before, and agayne with a loude voice cried vnto the dead men and sayed. O ye good men, here is the Roman censor come to speake with you. The censor beyng angry sayde to hym, what meanest thou by this host? I sent the to cal them that are aliue, & not those that are dead? the host made answer: o thou Roman Iudge if thou wert wyse, thou wol­dest not marueil at that that I haue done. For I let the vnderstand, in this our citie of Nola al the good men, (all I say) are now deade, and lye here bu­ried in these graues, Therfore thou hast no cause to marueile, nor yet to be dyspleased with my answere: but I rather ought to be offended with thy demaunde, willyng me to enquire for good menne, and thou thy selfe doste offende with the euill dailie. Wherfore I let the know (if thou be ignoraunt therof) if thou wilt speake with any good man, thou shalte not finde him in all the hole worlde: vnles the dead be reuiued, or excepte the gods wil make a newe creation. The Consul Sylla was fyue monethes our captain in this oure citye of Nola in Campania, sowinge the fruite whiche ye other Romai­nes gathered: that is to say, he lefte children without fathers, fathers with­out children, daughters without mothers, and husbandes without wyues: wiues without husbandes, vncles without nephewes, subiectes withoute Lordes, Lordes withoute tenauntes, gods without Temples, Temples without priestes, mountaines without heardes, and fieldes without fru­tes. [Page 5] And the worste of all is, that this cursed Sylla, dispeopled this oure citye of good and vertuous men: and replenyshed it with wycked and vitious personnes Ruine and decay neuer destroyed the walles so muche, neyther the mothes euer marred so many garmētes, ne the wormes rotted so much fruites, nor yet the hayle beate downe so muche corne, as the disorder and vices of Sylla the Romaine Consul dyd harme, whiche he broughte vnto this land of campania. And although the euils that he did here to the men were many folde greate, yet muche greater herein was that which he did to their customes and maners. For in the ende, the good men whiche he behea­ded are now at rest with the dead: but the vices whiche he left vs. In this land ther are none but proude & arrogant men that desire to commaunde. In this land there are none other but enuious men that know nought els but malice. In this land there are idle men which doe nothing but lose their tyme. In thys land there are none but gluttons, whych doe nothyng but eateth. In this land ther are non but theues, which entende nought els but robberies. In thys lande there are none but rebelles, that doe nothyng but stirre sedicion. And if thou and al the Romaynes esteme these men for good, tary a while I wyl goe to cal them al to the. For if we should kil and put in the shambles al the yll men and wey theym as we doe the flesh of shepe, or other lyke beastes: all the neighbours and inhabitantes of Italye shoulde haue meate sufficiente to eate. Beholde Censor, in this lande of Campania they case none good but those which are quyet, sober, wise, and discret men. Thei cal none good but the pacient, honest, and verteous men. Finallie I say that we cal none good but those which wyll doe no harme, and will occupy them selues in good workes without teares. I speke not that whych I wil say, that is: if we seke for any of them we shal finde none but in these graues. For the iuste iudgment of god it was, they should repose them selues in the intrailles of the earthe, whom the publike weale deserued not to haue alyue Thou comest to visite thys land where thou shalt imediatly be serued with the wycked: and to hyde theyr faultes, theyr dissolute lyfe, and theyr vices, thou shalt not be a little solicited. Beliue me if thou wilt not vndoe thy self & be deceiued. Trust thou rather these rottē bones, then their deceiptful harts. For in the end, the examples of the dead that were good doe profyte men more to lyue well: than the counsaile of the liuing that be wicked doe interre and burye al those that be nowe lyuyng.

¶ Marcus Aurelius concludeth the letter, and declareth at large the sciences he learned, and al the maisters which he had. And in the ende he reciteth fiue notable thynges, in the obseruaunce of whych the Romaynes were verye curious. Cap. iii.

I Haue recyted these thynges vnto the, my frende Pulio, to the ende thou shouldest know what an infinite number there is of the wycked sort in y^t world, and how smal and scant a number there is in Italye of the good, and this procedeth of none other thynge, but because the Fatheres doe not bryng vp their chyldren as our auncestours dyd. It is vnpossyble a young chylde shoulde be vicious, yf wyth due correction he had bene instructed in [Page] vertues. Annius Verus my father in thys case deserueth as much prayse, as I doe reproche. For whiles I was yonge, he neuer suffered me to slepe in bed, to syt in chayre, to eate with him at hys table, neyther durst I lyfte vp mine eyes to loke hym in the face. And oftentymes he sayde vnto me, Marcus my sonne, I had rather thou shoudest be an honest Romayne, than a dissolute Philosopher. Thou desyrest me to wryte vnto the how manye masters I had, and what scyences I learned in my youth. Knowe thou that I had manye good masters, though I am become an euyll scoller. I learned also dyuerse scyences, though presently I knowe lyttle, not for that I forgote them, but because the affayres of the empyre of Rome excluded me from them, and caused me to forsake them. For it is a general rule, that science in that place is neuer permanent, where the personne is not at libertie. I stu­dyed grammer with a mayster called Euphermon, who sayed he was a Spa­niard borne, and his head was hore for age. In speache he was very tempe­rate, in correction somwhat seuere, and in life exceadyng honeste. For there was a law in Rome, that the childrens masters should be very old: so that if the disciple were .10. yeres of age, the master should be aboue fiftie. I stu­died a long time Rethorick, and the lawe, vnder a greeke called Alexander, borne in Lycaony, which was so excellent an Oratour, that if he had had as great a grace in writing with his pen, as he hadde eloquence in speakynge with hys tong, truly he had bene no lesse renowmed among the Gretians, then Cicero was honored amonge the Romains. After the death of this my master (at Naples) I went to Rhodes, and hearde rethoricke again of Oro­sus of Pharanton, and of Pulio, whiche trulye were men expert, and excellent in the arte of oratorie, and especially in makyng comedies, tragedies, and enterludes, they were very fyne, and had a goodly grace. Commodus Calcedon, was my firste master in naturall Philosophie. He was a graue man, and in greate credite with Adrian, he translated Homere out of greeke into latin. After this man was dead, I toke Sextus Cheronēsis for my master, who was nephewe to Plutarche the greate, whych Plutarche was Traianus master, I knewe this Sextus Cheronensis at .35. yeares of age, at what time I doute whether there hath bene any Philosopher that euer was so well estemed throughout the Romain empire as he. I haue him here with me, and al­though he be foure score yeres olde, yet continually he writeth the Histories and gestes done of my time. I let the know, my frend Pulio, that I studied the law .2. yeres, and the seekyng of the lawes of many nacions was occa­sion that I knew many antiquities: and in this science Volucius Mecianns was my master, a man whiche could reade it well, and also dispute of if bet­ter. So that on a time he demaunded of me merily and sayde. Tell me Marke, doest thou thinke there is any lawe in the world that I know not? and I aunswered him: Tell me master, is there any lawe in the world that thou obseruest? The fyfte yere that I was at Rhodes there came a maruei­lous pestilence, whiche was occasion of the dissolution of our scoole, which was in a narowe and litle place, and beynge there a certaine painter pain­tinge a riche and exellent worke for the Realme of Palestine, I then for a truth learned there to drawe and painte, and my master was Diogenetus, who in those dayes was a famous painter. He painted in Rome .6. worthy [Page 6] Princes in one table, and 6. other tirannous Emperours in an other. And amongest those euill Nero the cruell was painted so lyuely, that he semed a lyue to all those that sawe him: and that table wherein Nero was so liuelye drawen, was by decrees of the sacred senat commaunded to be burnt. For they saide that a man of so wycked a life, deserued not to be represented in so goodly a table. Others saide that it was so naturall and perfect, that he made all men afrayde that beheld him, and if he had bene lefte there a fewe daies, that he would haue spoken as if he had bene aliue. I studied the arte of Nigromancie a while with al the kyndes of gyromancye and chiroman­cye. In this science I had no particuler master, but that somtymes I went to heare Apolonius lecture. After I was maried to Faustine, I learned Cos­mographye in the citie of Argeleta, which is the chiefeste towne of Illyria: and my masters were Iunius Rusticus, and Cyna Catullus, Croniclers and counsay­lers to Adrian my master, and Antonius my father in lawe. And because I would not be ignorant in any of those thynges that mans debilitie myght attaine to, beyng at the warres of Dalia I gaue my selfe to musicke, & was apte to take it, and my master was named Geminus C [...]modus a man of a quicke hand to play, and of as pleasaunte a voice to singe, as euer I hearde Romayne tonge prompte to speake. This was the order of my lyfe, and the tyme that I spente in learning. And of good reason a man so occupyed can not chose but be vertuous. But I sware and confesse to the that I did not so much geue my selfe to studye, but that euery day I lost time enoughe. For youth and the tender fleshe desyreth libertie, and althoughe a man accu­stome it with trauailes, yet he findeth vacant time also for his pleasours. Although al the auncient Romans were in dyuerse thinges very studious, yet notwithstandinge amongest all ouer and besides these, there were fyue things wherunto they had euer a great respect: & to those that therin offen­ded, neyther requestes auayled, rewards profited, nor law (old nor new) dis­pensed. Truly their good willes are to be comended, and their dyligence to be exalted. For the princes that gouerne great Realmes, ought to employe their hartes to make good lawes, and to occupie their eyes to se them du­lye executed throughoute the common wealthe. These fiue thinges weare these.

1 The firste, they ordeyned that the priestes shoulde not be dishoneste. For in that Realme where priestes are dyshonest, it is a token that the gods a­gainst the people are angrye.

2 The seconde, it was not suffered in Rome that the Virginnes vestalles should at their pleasoure stray abroad. For it is but reason that she whiche of her owne fre wil hath heretofore promised openly to be good, should now if she chaunge her mind be compelled in secret to be chast.

3 The third, they decreed that the iudges should be iuste and vprighte. For there is nothing that decayeth a common wealthe more, then a iudge who hath not for all men one ballaunce indifferent.

4 The fourth was, that the Captaines that should go to the warres should not be cowardes: for there is no lyke daunger to the common wealthe, nor no like sclaunder to the Prince, as to committe the charge of men to hym in the fielde, who wylbe firste to commaunde, and laste to fighte.

[Page]The fifthe was, that they whiche had charge of bringinge vp of children shoulde not be vicious. For there is nothinge more monstruous and more sclaunderous, then he that is maister of children, should be subiecte and ser­uaunt to vyces. How thinkest thou my frende Pulio whan al these thinges were obserued in Rome? Thinkest thou that the youthe was so dissolute as at this present? thinkeste thou in deede that it is the same Rome wherin (in times past) were so notable good and auncient men? beleuest thou that it is that Rome wherin (in the golden age) the olde men were so honest, and the children so well taught, the armies wel ordered, and the iudges and Senatours so vpright and iuste? I call God to witnes, and sweare to the that it is not Rome, neyther hath it any likenes of Rome, nor yet anye grace to be Rome: and he that would say that this Rome was the old Rome, knoweth lytle of Rome. The matter was this, that the auncient and vertuous Ro­maynes being dead, it semeth to the gods, that we are not yet woorthye to enioye their houses, So that eyther this is not Rome, or els we be not the Romaines of Rome. For considering the prowesse and vertuous deedes of the auncient Romaines, and wayeng also our dissolute lyues: it wer a very great infamy for them, to call vs their successours. I desier my frend Pulio, to write vnto the all these thinges, to thend thou mayest se what we were, and what we are. For great things haue neede of great power, and require a long tyme before they can growe and come to their perfection: and then afterward at one moment & with one blow they fal downe to the ground. I haue bene more tedious in my letter than I thoughte to haue bene, and now I haue told the that which wyth dyligence (by reason of my great af­fayres) in thre or foure tymes I haue wryten of that that wanteth in thine and is to much in myne, we shal make a reasonable letter, and since I par­don the for being to briefe, pardon thou me also for being to long. I saw the ones enquire for vnicornes horne in Alexandry, wherfore now I send the a good peece and likewise I send the a horse which in my iudgement is good. Aduertise me if thy doughter Drusilla be alyue, wyth whom I was wont to laugh, and I wyll healpe her to a mariage. The immortall gods kepe the O my Pulio, thy wife, thy stepmother and thy doughter, and Salut them all, from me and faustine. Marke of Mounte Celio Emperour of Rome with his owne hand wryteth vnto the.

¶Of the excellency of christian religion, whych manyfesteth the true God, and disproueth the vanitye of the auncyents hauyng so many Gods And that in the olde tyme, when the enemyes were reconcyled in their houses, they caused also that the gods should embrace eche other in the Temples. Cap. iiii.

HE that is the onely diuyne worde, begotten of the Father, lorde perpe­tuall of the Hierarchies, more aunciente then the heauens, Prince of all holynesse, chiefe head from whom all had their begynning, the greatest of all gods, and creatore of all creatures, in the profundnesse of his eternall sapience, accordeth all the harmony and composition of Christian religion. This is suche a maner of sure matter, and so well laid, that neyther the mise­ries which spring of thinfections of naughty Christians can trouble, nor yet [Page 7] the boysterous windes of the heretiques are able to moue. For it wer more likely that heauen and earthe shoulde both perishe, then it should suspend for one daye, and that ther sholde be no Christian religion. The auncient godds whyche were inuentours of wordly thinges, as the foundacion of their re­proued sectes was but a flienge sande, and an vnstable ground ful of daūge­rous & erronious abuses: so some of those poore wretches, lokyng perhappes lyke a shippe ronning vppon a rocke, suspectynge nothyng, were drowned. Other like ruyned buildynges were shaken in sonder and fell downe dead, finally these gods whiche onely bare the name of gods shalbe for euermore forgotten. But he onely shalbe perpetual, whiche in god, by god, & thorough god hath his beginninge. Many and sundry were the multitude of the na­cions whiche haue bene in times past. That is to wyt, the Sirians, y^e Assirians, Persiās, Medians, Macedoniās, Grecians, Cythians, Arginians, Corinthiās, Caldeās, Indiās, Athenians, Lacedemonians, Africans, Vandales, Svveuians, Allains, Hongarians, Ger­maignes, Britons, Hebrevves, Palastines, Gentiles, Iberthailides, Maurians, Lucitanians, Gothes, and Spaniardes. And truely in all these loke howe greate the difference amongest them in their customes and maners was: so much diuersitie was of the ceremonies which they vsed, and of their gods which they honoured. For the gentiles had this errour, that they sayd one alone was not of power sufficient to create suche a multitude as were created. If I were before al the sages that euer were, they would not say the contrary, but without cō ­parison the gods whome they worshypped and inuented were greater in multitude, then the realmes and prouinces whiche they conquered and pos­sessed. For by that folie the auncient poetes durst affirme in their writinges that the gods of one nation and countrey wer mortal enemies to the gods of another prouince. So that the gods of Troye enuied the gods of Grece, more then the princes of Grece, enuied the princes of Troye. What a strange thinge was it to see the Assirians in what reuerence they worshypped the god Belus. The Egiptiās the god Apis. The Caldeans the god Assas. The Babi­loniās the deuouring dragon. The pharaones the statue of gold. The Pa­lestines Belzebub. The Romaines honoured the god Iupiter. The Affricās the god Mars. The Corinthians the god Apollo. The Arabians the God A­staroth. The Arginians the Sonne. Those of Acaia the Moone. The Cido­nians Belphegorn. The Amonites Balim. The Indians Baccus. The lacedemo­nians Osiges The Macedonians did sacrifice to Marcury. The Ephesians to their goddesse Diana. The Grekes to Iuno. The Armenians to Liber. The Troiās to Vesta. The Latins to Februa. The Tarentines to Ceres. The Rho­dians (as saieth Apolonius Thianeus,) worshypped the God Ianus, and a­boue all thinges wee oughte to meruaile at this. That they striued often­times amongest them selues, not so muche vpon the possessions and signo­ries of Realmes, as vppon a certaine obstinacie they had to maintaine the gods of the one, to be of greater power then the others. For they thoughte if their gods were not estemed, that the people should be impouerished, vn­fortunate, and persecuted. Pulio in his second booke De dissolatione regionum orientarum, declareth that the first prouince that rebelled againste the Empe­rour Helius Adrianus (which was the fiftenth Emperour of Rome) was the land of Palestine, against the which was sent a captaine named Iulius Seue­rus, [Page] a manne of great courage and verye fortunate and aduenturous in armes. This captaine did not only finishe the warres, but he wrought such an outragious destruction in that land, that he besieged 52. cities and raced them to the ground, and burned 680. villages, and slew so many in battaile schermidge, and by Iustice, that amounted to the nombre of .5000. persons. For vnto the prowde and cruell captaines victory can neuer be glorious, vn­lesse they water the ground with the bludde of their enemies. And further­more in the cities and townes besieged, the children olde men and women whiche died throughe hunger and pestilence were more in nombre, than those whiche were slain in the warres. For in warres the sworde of the ene­mies lighteth not vpon all: but pestilēce and famine hath no respecte to any. After this warre of y^e Palestines was ended, immediatly after arose a more crueller betwixte the Allaynes, and Armenians. For there are many that se the beginninge of the troubles and miseries which aryse in Realmes: but there are fewe that consider the ende, and seke to remedye the same. The occasion of this warre was, as they came to the feast of the mount Olimpus they fell in disputacions whither of their gods were better, & whiche of them ought to bee preferred before other. Whereof there sprange suche contradictions, and suche mortall hatred, that on euerye parte they were furiouslye moued to warres: and so vnder a colour to mainteine the gods which they honou­red, both the common wealthes were brought into great pouertie, and the people also into muche miserie. The Emperoure Helius Adrianus, seyng suche cruell warres to aryse vppon so lyghte occasion, sente thither the captayne aboue named, Iulius Seuerus, to pacifye the Allaines and Armenians, and com­maunded hym that he should persecute those with warres, whiche woulde not be ruled by his arbitrement and sentence. For those iustlye deserue the sworde, which with no reasonable condicions wil condescende vnto peace. But Iulius Seuerus vsed suche pollicye that he made them good frendes, and neuer touched them nor came nere them. Whyche thynge was no lesse ac­ceptable to the Emperour, then profitable to the realmes. For the captayne whyche subdueth the countrey by entreatye, deserueth more honoure, then he which ouercommeth it by bataile. The agrement of the peace was made vpon suche condicion, that the Allayns should take for their gods the Arme­nians gods, and the Armenians on the contrarye the gods of the Allains: and further when the people should imbrace and reconcile them selues to the senate, that then the gods should kysse the one the other, and to be reconciled to the temple. The vanitie of the auncientes was suche, and the blindnes of mortall men so greate, and so subiect were they to deuillishe deuises, that as easely as the eternall wisedom createth a true man now a dayes: so easelye then a vaine man might haue inuented a false god. For the Lacedemonians had this opinion, that men had no lesse power to inuent goddes, then the gods had to create menne.

¶Howe the Philosopher Bruxellus was greatly estemed amongest the auncientes for his lyfe, and the woordes whyche he spake vnto the Romaines at the houre of hys death. Cap. v.

[Page 8] PHarasmaco in hys 20. booke De libertate deorum (whereof Cicero maketh mencion in his booke De natura deorum) saythe: that when the Gothes toke Rome and besiged the highe capitoll, there came amongest them a philosopher called Bruxellus, the which (after the Gothes were repulsed out of Italy) remained with Camillus at Rome. And because at that time Rome wanted Phylosophers, this Bruxellus was had in great veneracion amon­gest all the Romaynes, so that he was the first straūger of whom (beyng a­lyue) a statue was euer made in the Senate. The Romaines vsed to make a statue of y^e Romains being aliue: but not to strangers til after their death. The age of this Bruxellus was 113. wherof .65. he had bene an inhabitaunt of Rome. And among other things they recite .7. notable things of his lyfe. 1 The first, that in .60 yeres no man euer saw him issue oute of the wal­les of Rome. For in the olde tyme the Sages were lytle estemed, if in their behauiours they were not vpright.

2 The second, that in 60 yeres no man heard him speake an idel word: for y^e words that are superfluous, do greatly deface the authoritye of the person. 3 The third, that in al his time they neuer saw him loase one hower of time. For in a wise man there is no greater follye, then to see hym spende a mo­ment of an houre idelly.

4 The fourth, that in al his tyme he was neuer detected of any vyce. And let no man thinke this to be a smal matter. For few are they of so longe life, which are not noted of some infamy after their death.

5 The fifthe, that in all the 60. yeres he neuer made quarel, nor striued with anye man: and this thinge oughte to be no lesse estemed then the other. For truly he that lyueth a long tyme without offering wrong to another, may be called a monsture in nature.

6 The sixt, that in thre or foure yeres he neuer issued out of the temple, and in this case this philosopher shewed himself to be a good man. For the vertu­ous man ought not to content him selfe onlye to be voyde of vyces: but he ought also to withdrawe hym selfe from the vycious.

7 The seuenth & last, that he spake more often w^t the gods then with men.

This philosopher now drawinge nere to the houre of deathe, al the Se­nate came to vysite him, and to thanke him for that he had lyued so long a­mongest them in so good conuersaciō, & that so willingly he cared and wat­ched for the wealth of Rome. And likewise al the people of Rome wer right sorye for his sicknes & that they should lose the company of so excellent and vertuous a man. The good philosopher in the presence of theym all spake these words vnto the Senate.

¶Of that the sage Philosopher Bruxellus spake to the Senate of Rome, at the hower of his death. Cap. vi.

SInce you are wise (o worthy senatours) me thinketh you should not la­ment my death, sithens I my selfe so ioyfully do receiue it. For we ought not to lament the death we take, but the wicked life we lead. That man is very simple that dreadeth deathe, for feare to loase the pleasures of life. For death ought not to be feared for losse of life, but because it is a sharp scourge of y^e wicked lyfe I dye (noble Senatours) in ioy & pleasure: First, because I [Page] do not remember that euer I did any euil in all my life, or displeasour to any of the common wealth. And I am certaine, that the man which dyd no e­uil to men in his life, the gods wil do him no harme at y^e houre of his death. Secōdarily I dy ioyfully, to se al Rome lament y^e losse of my life. For y^e man is very wicked and vnhappy, whose life the people lament, & at whose death they do reioyce, Thirdly I dye ioyfully, only to remember that the 60 yeres which I haue bene in Rome, always I haue trauailed for y^e cōmon wealth. For the iust gods told me, that ther is no death with paine, but wher life is without profit. Fourthly I dye ioyfully, not so much for the profit I haue don to men, as for y^e seruice I haue done to the gods. For regarding to how many profitable things we employ our life, we maye say, we liue onlye the time which is employed to the seruice of god. Ceasinge to speake further of my person, I wil (worthy Senatours) disclose vnto you a high secret, which toucheth your comon welth, & this it is. That our father Romulus founded Rome, Numa Pompillius erected the high Capitol, Aneus Marcius enclosed it w^t walles, Brutus deliuered it from Tyraunts: the good Camillus droue out the frenchmen Quintus Scicinnatus augmēted her power: but I leaue it peopled w^t gods, which shal defend Rome better then walles or men. For in the end, y^e feare of one god is more worth, then the strength of al men. When I came to Rome it was a confusion to se how it was peopled with men, & vnfur­nished of gods. For ther wer but 5. gods, y^t is to wete, Iupiter, Mars, Ianus, Bere­cinthia, and the goddess Vesta. But now it is not so. For ther remayneth for euery one a priuate god. Me thinketh it an vniust thing y^t treasouries shold be ful of gold, & y^e temples void of gods. As ther is 28000 housholdes, so you may account your selues happie y^t I leaue you 28000. gods: by the vertu of y^e which I cōiure you Romains, y^t eche of you be contented with the god of his house, and haue no care to applye to himselfe the gods of the common wealth. For he that empropreth to him self that which ought to be cōmon to al, is to be blamed of god, and hated of mē. This shalbe therfore the order that you shal kepe and haue towards the gods, if you wil not erre in their seruice. That is to vnderstand, ye shal kepe the mother Berecinthia, to pacify y^e ire of the gods, ye shal kepe the goddesse Vesta, to turne from you the wicked destenies. Ye shal kepe the god Iupiter, & shal commit vnto him the gouern­ment of your common wealth. And also ye shal kepe him for the god aboue all the gods in heauen and earth. For if Iupiter dyd not temper the ire, which the gods aboue haue against you: there shoulde be no memorye of men here beneth in earth. Of other particuler gods which I leaue you, vse your par­ticuler profit. But yet notwithstāding in the meane season (Romaines) take you hede to your selues, and if at any time fortune should be contrary, let no man be so hardy to speake euil of the god, which he hath in his house For y^e gods tel me, that it was sufficient inough, to dissemble with theym whiche serue them not: & not to pardon those that offend them. And do not deceiue your selues in sayeng y^t they are priuate gods, and not able to help themsel­ues. For I let you know, that ther is not so lytle a god, but is of power sufficient to reuenge an iniurye. O Romaynes, it is reason that al from hens­forth liue ioyfully, and in peace, and furthermore thinke your selues assured not to be ouercome by your enemyes: because nowe youre neyghbours of [Page 9] you and not you of them shal desire to borow gods, and because ye shall se me no more, ye thinke I must dye, and I thinke because I dye. I shall be­ginne to liue. For I go to the gods, and leaue amonge you the gods, because I departe.

¶Howe the Gentiles thoughte that one God was not able to defende them from their enemies, and how the Romans sent throughout al the Empire to borow gods when they foughte agaynst the Gothes. Cap. vii.

IN the yeare of the foundacion of Rome 1164. which accordynge to the count of the Latins was 402. from the incarnacion (as Paulus Orosus in the sixte boke De machina mundi saieth, & Paulus Diaconus in the 12. boke of the Romaine histories) The gothes (which as Spartian sayeth, wer called otherwise Gethules, or Meslagethes) wer driuen out of theyr countrey by y^e Huns, & came in to Italy to seke new habitacions, and became natural, & built houses. At this time there was an Emperour of Rome named Valentine, a man of smal re­putacion & courage in warres, and endued with few good cōdicions, for y^t he was of Arian his secte. The kynges of these Gothes wer two renowmed men, whose names wer Randagagismus, and Alaricus. Of the which two Ran­dagagismus was the chiefest and most puissaunt, and he had a noble mynde and a very good wit. He led with him at the leaste. 2000000. Gothes, the which all with him and he with them made an othe, to shed asmuche bloude of the Romaines as they coulde, and offer it to their gods. For the barba­rous people had a custome, to noynte the god (whiche was at that time in the tēple of Venus) with y^e bloud of their enemys whom they had slaine. The newes of the comming of this cruell tiraunt was published throughout all Italie, Whose determinacion was not only to race y^e walles of Rome downe to the earth, batter towers, dungions, houses, walles, and buildynges: but also he purposed to abolyshe and vtterlye to brynge to noughte the name of Rome and likwyse of the Romaines. Of this thing all the Italiens were in great and merueilous feare. And the most puissaunt and couragious knigh­tes and gentlemen, agreed togethers to retire within the walles of Rome, and determined to die in that place to defend the liberty therof. For amōges the Romaines there was an aunciente custome, that when they created a knyghte, they made him sweare to kepe thre thinges.

• 1 First, he sware to spende all the dayes of his lyfe in the warres.
• 2 Secoundarely, he sware that neyther for pouerty nor ryches nor for any other thinges he shoulde euer take wages but of Rome onelye.
• 3 Thirdly, he sware that he woulde rather chuse to dye in libertye, then to liue in captiuitie.

After all the Romaynes (scatered abrode in Italie) wer together assēbled in Rome, they agred to sende letters by their pursiuantes, not only to their subiectes, but also to al their confederate. Theffecte whereof was this.

¶ Of a Letter sent from the senate of Rome to all the subiects of the Empire. Chap. viii.

THe sacred Senate, and all the people of Rome, to all their faythfull and louing subiectes, and to their deare frendes and confederates, wysheth health & victory against your enemies. The varietie of time, the negligence of [Page] you all, & the vnhappy successe of our aduentures, haue broughte vs in pros­ses of tyme, that wher as Rome conquered Realmes, and gouerned so many straunge signoryes, now at this day commeth straungers to conquere and destroye Rome: in such sorte, that the Barbarous people (whom we were wont to kepe for sclaues) sweare to become our lords and masters. We let you know now how al the Barbarous nacion hath cōspired against Rome our mother, and they with their king haue made a vowe to offer al the Ro­maines bloud to their gods in the temples. And peraduenture their pride & fyersenes beinge seene, and our innocency knowen, fortune wil dispose ano­ther thing. For it is a generall rule, that it is vnpossible for a prince to haue the victorye of that warre, whiche by malyce is begonne, and by pryde and fyersenes pursued. It hath semed good vnto vs (synce theyr cause is vniust, and oure righteous) to endeuoure oure selues by all meanes howe to re­syst this Barbarous people. For oft times that which by iustice was gotten, by neglygence is lost. For the remedie of this mischiefe to come, the sacred se­nate hath prouided these thinges following: and for the accomplyshing ther­of your fauour and ayde is necessarye.

1 First of al we haue determined to repaire with al dyligēce our diches, wal­les, gates, and bulwarkes: and in these places to arme al our frendes. But to accomplishe that and diuers other for the necessitie of warfare we lacke mo­ny: for ye know wel inoughe that the warre cānot be prosperous, wher ene­myes abound, and money is scarse.

2 Secondarilye we haue commaunded that all those whiche be sworne knightes and soldiours of Rome, repaire immediatly to Rome: and therfore ye shal send to vs all those which are vnder thage of 50. and aboue thage of 20. For in great warres, aunciente men for counsaile, and younge men and lustye to execute the same are required.

3 Thirdly we haue agreed and concluded that the citie be prouided of victu­alles, municion, & defence at the least for 2. yeres. Wherfore we desire ye y^t ye send vs frō you y^e tenth part of wine, the fift part of flesh, and the third part of your bread. For we haue al sworne to die, yet we meane not to dye for fa­mine, asseged as feareful mē: but fighting in plaine feld, like valiāt Romains.

4 Fourthly we haue prouided (since the vnknowē barbarous come to fight with vs) that you bring vs to Rome straunge gods to helpe and defend vs. For you know wel inough, that since the great Constantine we haue ben so pore of gods, that we haue not but one god, whom the Christiās do honour. Therfore we desire you that you wil succour vs with your gods in this our extreame necessity. For amongest the Gods we know no one alone sufficiēt to defend al the Romaine people from their enemies. The walles therefore being wel repayred, and al the young and warrelike men in garrison in the cytie, the batteries wel furnished, and the treasour house wel replenished w^t mony, & aboue al the tēples wel adourned with gods, we hope in our gods to haue the victory of our enemyes. For in fighting with men and not a­gainst gods, a man ought always to haue hope of victorye. For ther are no men of such might, but by god and other men may be vainquished. Fare ye wel. &c. After this letter was sent through al the dominiō of the Romaines, not taryenge for answere of y^e same, they foorthwith openly blasphemed the name of Christ, and set vp idolles in the temples, vsed the ceremonies of the [Page 10] gentiles: & that which was worse then y^t, they said openly that Rome was neuer so oppressed with tirantes, as it hath ben since they wer Christians. And further they sayde, if they called not againe all the gods to Rome, the cytie should neuer be in safegard, for that they had dyshonoured and offen­ded their gods, and caste theym oute of Rome, and that those Barbarous were sent to reuenge their iniury. But the deuine prouidence which geueth no place to humayne malice to execute his forces, before the walles were repaired, and before the messaungers broughte aunsweare, and before the straunge gods coulde enter into Rome, Randagagismus, king of the Gothes, with 2000000. of barbarous (without the effusion of Christian bloud) so­dainlye in the mountaynes of Vesulanes, wythe famyne, thirste, and stones which fell from heauen, loste all his armye, not one left alyue but himselfe, whoe had hys heade strycken of in Rome. And this thing the eternal wise­dome broughte to passe, to thende the Romaynes shoulde see that Iesus Christe the true God of the Christians had no neede of straunge gods to defend his seruauntes.

¶ Of the true and lyuing god, and of the maruailes he wrought in the old lawe to manyfest his deuine power, and of the supersticion of the false gods. Cap. ix.

O Grosse ignoraunce, and vnspekeable obstinacy. O Iudgemēts of God inscrutable. What thinke these gentyles by y^e true god? They searched the false gods to helpe them, & had a lyuing god of their owne: they sought gods ful of gyle and disceyte, and worse then that, they thought it necessary y^t that God, which created al things should be accompanyed with their gods to defend them which could make nothinge. Let now all theyr gods come forth into the fyeldes on the one syde, and I will go forthe alone in godlye company, that is to say with the hygh god on thother parte. And we wyll compare the deades and proue the aydes of their false God, against & wyth the least worke of our true god. And they shall clearelye perceiue their false­hode and our truth. For the tongue that speaketh of God can neuer beare with any lye, and that whiche speaketh of Idolles can neuer dysclose anye truth. Yf they esteme him much for creatinge the world with his might: is it any lesse to preserue and gouerne it by his wisedome? For many thinges are done in a moment, for the preseruacion wherof long tyme is requysyte, and much paynfull trauaile necessarye. I demaunde further what God of the gentyles could do that whych our God hath done? that is to knowe, within one Arcke to make quyet the Lion with the leoperd, the wolfe with the lambe, the Beare with the Cow, the Tigar with the Cocodryll, the sto­ned horse with the Mare, the Dogge with the Catte, the foxe with the Hen­nes, the houndes with the hares, and so of other beastes: whose enmytye is greater thone agaynst other, then that of man is against men. For thenmy­ty amōges men proceadeth of malice, but that of beasts procedeth of nature. Also I demaunde what God (if it wer not the true God so mightye) could sley and drowne in one hower and moment so many men women, & bea­stes: so that al those which were in the world (eight only excepted) perrisshed in the deluge of Noy. The iudgement of god by ordynaunce, & their offences [Page] deserued this so maruelous a domage. For god neuer executed any notable punishmēt, but first it came through our wicked offences. And if this be coū ted for a greate thynge, I wyll that another thing be had in great estyma­cion. Which is, that if god shewed his rygorous iustice in this punishment, incontinently he shewed his might & clemency in remedyeng it, in that of these eyght persons (which were but few) the generacion dyd multiplye in so great a nomber that they dyd replenysh many and great Realmes. Wheron a man ought to marueil, for according as Aristotle sayth, the great thin­ges are easely put to destruction and brought to noughte, but with greate diffyculty they are remedyed and repayred againe, And further I demaund what God of the gentiles was so puissaunt to do this, which the god of the Hebrues dyd in that auncient and opulent realme of the Egypcians? That is to witte, when he would, and when it pleased him, he made the ryuers runne bloud, infected the fleshe, darkened the ayer, dryed the seas, & slew the first begotten, obscured the sōne, and did wonders in Chanaan, & other wō ­derful thinges in y^e read sea. Finally he cōmaunded y^e sea to drowne y^e prince aliue with al his Egypcians, & that it should let y^e Hebrues passe dry. Yf one of these false gods had done any one of these thinges, it had bene to be mar­uailed at: but y^e true god doing it we shold not meruaile at al. For according to our lytle vnderstandyng it semeth a great thing, but in respect of that the deuyne power can do, it is nothing. For wher God putteth his hande, there are no men so myghty, no beastes so proude, nor heauen so highe, nor sea so deape, that can resyst his power. For as he gaue them power, so can he take it from theym at hys pleasure, Further what God of the gentyles (altough they were assembled together) could haue had the power to haue destroyed one man only, as the true God dyd? the which in the tyme of kyng Zedechi­as) made an hundreth and foure score thousande of the campe of the assiry­ans dye, the Hebrues being a sleape which were their mortal enemyes. And truly in this case god shewed to princes and greate lordes howe lytle their monnye, and their subtyle wyttes preuayle them in feates of warre, when god hath determined another thinge for their desertes. For in the ende the first inuencion of warres proceadeth of mans ambicion and worldlye ma­lyce, but the victorye of them procedeth of the deuine pleasoure. What god of y^e gentyles could haue done that which our true God dyd? when he brought vnder the feete of the renowmed Captayne Iosue, two and thirty kynges and Realmes, whom he depryued not only from their lādes, but also bereft theym of theyr lyues, in tearing them in pieces, and deuydyng the mysera­ble realmes into 12 Tribes. Those realmes (which in old time belonged vn­to the Hebrues) were more then 2000 yeres kept of them in tiranny: wherfore God would that by the handes of Iosue they should be restored. And though god differred it a long tyme, it was to gyue theym greauous tor­mentes, and not for that god had forgotten them. And althoughe princes do forget manye wronges and tirannies, yet notwithstandynge riuers of bloude cease not to runne before the face of the dyuine Iustice. If all the auncient goddes hadde had power, woulde not they also haue holpen their princes? since the goddes lost no lesse in losinge theyr temples, then menne loste in losing their realmes, For it touched more the case of the auncyen­tes, [Page 11] to lose one lytle Temple: thenne for men to lose a noble Realme We see that y^e goddes of the troians could not resist the greekes, but that both men and gods, gods & men came into Carthage, & from Carthage in to Trinacrie, and from Trinacrie into Italie, and from Italie tino Lauren­tum, and from Laurentum into Rome. So they went about flieng, decla­ring that the gods of Troy were no lesse conquered of the gods of Greece: then the Dukes and captaynes of grece, were vanquished of the captaynes of Troy, the which thing is hard to them that presume to be gods. For the true god doth not only make himselfe feared: but also beloued and feared both. That we say of the one, the same we may wel say of y^e others. That is to know, that al the gods in the realmes and temples, wherin they honored and serued: but wee see thone destroyeth the other, as it is declared by the Hebrues which were in bondage of the Assirians: the Assirians of the Per­sians: the Persians of the Macedonians: the Macedonians of the Medes: the Medes of the Grekes: the Grekes of the Penians: the Penians of y^e Romaines: the Romaines of the Gothes: the Gothes of the Moores: So that that ther was no realme nor nacion but was conquered. Neyther the wry­ters can deny, but they would haue exalted their gods and ceremonies, that the gods & their worshippers shuld not haue end. But in the end both gods and men had al end except the christian religion, which shal neuer haue end For it is founded of that which hath neyther beginning nor ending. One of the things which comforteth my hart most in the christian religion, is to see that since the time the churches wer founded, the kinges and princes most puissant haue ben alwayes theyr enemyes, and the most feble and poore, al­wayes greatest helpers and defenders of the same. O glorious militaunte church, which now is no other then gold amongest the rust, a rose amongest the thornes, corne amongest the chaffe, marye amongest the bones, Margarites amōgest y^e peble stones, a holy soule amongest the rotten flesh, a Phoenix in the cage, a shippe rokking in the raging seas, which the more she is beaten the faster she sayleth.

And there is no Realme soo litle, nor no manne of so litle fauoure but, when other doo persecute him, hee is by his frendes, parentes and defen­doures, fauoured and succoured, so that manye times those whiche thinke to destroye are destroyed: & those which seme to take their part were their chiefest enemies. Doth not that procede of the great secret of god? For though God suffred the wicked to be wicked a while, god will not therfore suffer that one euil man procure an other to do euil. The Palestines, and those of Hierusalem, had not for their principall enemyes but the Caldeans: and the Caldians had for their enemyes the Idumeans: the Idumeans the Assirians: y^e Assirians the Persians, the Persians the Arginians: the Arginians the Athenians: the Athe­nians had for their principal enemyes the Lacedemonians, and y^e Lacedemonians the Sydonians: the Sydonians the Rhodians: and the Rhodians the Scithians: the Scithians the Hunnes: the Hunnes had the Alaines: the Alaines the Svveuians: and the Svveuians the Vandales: the Vandales the Valerians: the Valerians the Sardinians: y^e Sardinians the Affricanes: the Affricanes the Romaines: the Romaines the Daciās: the Dacians the Gothes: the Gothes the Frenchmen: the Frenchmen the Spanyardes: and the Spanyardes the Mores.

[Page]And of all these realmes the one hath persecuted the other. And not al one: but our holy mother the church hath alwayes ben oppressed & persecuted w^t those realmes, and hath bene socoured of none but of Iesu Christ only, and he hath euer succoured and defended it wel. For the things that God taketh charge of, although al the world wer agaynst them, in the end it is impossi­ble for them to perishe.

¶How ther is but one true God, & how happy those Realmes are which haue a good christian to their king, and how the gentils affirme that the good prin­ces after their death were changed into gods & the wycked into deuils: whych thing the Auctoure proueth by soundry examples. Cap. x.

ALthough the common opinion of the simple people was, that ther were many gods, yet not withstandinge al the Phylosophers affyrmed that ther was but one God (who of some was named Iupiter) the whiche was chiefe aboue al other gods. Others called him the first intelligence, for that he had created al y^e world. Others called him the first cause, because he was the beginner of all things. It semeth that Aristotle vnderstode this thinge, and was of this opinion, forasmuch as he sayth in his .12. booke of his me­taphisickes. All superiour and inferiour thinges wold be well ordered, and many thinges muche better by tharbitrement of one, then by the aduice of many. Marcus Varro in hys booke De theologia mistica, & Tullius in hys booke De natura Deorum, although these were gentyles, and curious enoughe of the Temples, yet they do mocke the gentiles whych beleued ther were manye gods, & that Mars & M [...]rcury, and lykewyse Iupiter, & the whole flocke of gods (which the gentyles set vp) wer al mortal men as we are. But because they knew not that ther wer good nor bad angels, nor knew not that ther was any paradise to reward y^e good, nor hel to torment the euil: They held thys opinion, that the good men after their death wer gods, and the euyl men de­uils. And not contented with these folysh abuses, y^e deuil brought them into such an errour, y^t they thought it consisted in the Senates power to make some gods, and other deuils. For when ther dyed at Rome any Emperour, if he had bene wel willed of the Senate, immediatly he was honoured for a god: and if he died in dyspleasure of y^e Senate, he was condemned for a deuyl. And to the end we do not speake by fauour, but by writting. Herodian sayth, y^t Faustine was the doughter of Antonius Pius, & wife of Marcus Aurelius, which wer Emperours the one after the other. And truly ther wer few ey­ther of their predecessours, or of their successours, which wer so good as they wer, and in myne opinion more better: & therfore was she made a goddesse, and her father a god. An Emperour that coueteth perpetual memory, must note 5. thinges which he should haue in his life. That is to saye, pure in lyfe, vpright in iustice, aduenturous in feates of armes, excellent in knowledge, and welbeloued in his prouinces, which vertues were in these 2. excellente Emperors. This Empresse Faustine was passing fayre, and the wrytters praise her beauty in such sorte, y^t they sayde it was vnpossible for her to be so beautiful, but that y^e gods had placed som deuine thing in her. Yet not with standing this added therunto, it is doubtful whether the beauty of her face was more praysed: then the dishonestie of her lyfe discommended.

[Page 12]For her beauty maruelously amazed those y^t saw her, & her dishonesty offen­ded them moch that knew her. Yet after the Emperour Marcus Aurèlius had triumphed ouer the Parthians, as he went visitinge the prouinces of Asia, the goodlye Faustine in 4. daies dyed in the mounte Taurus (by occasion of a bur­nynge feuer) and so annealed was caried to Rome. And since she was the daughter of so good a father, and wife of so dearely beloued an Emperour, amonges the Gods she was canonyzed, but consideringe her vnconstant or rather incontinent lief, it was neuer thought that the Romaines would haue done her so much honor. Wherfore y^e Emperour reioysed so much, that he neuer ceased to render thankes vnto the Senate. For truely the benefite ought to be acceptable to him that receiueth it, especially whan it commeth vnloked for. The contrary came to the death of Tiberius, third Emperour of Rome, which was not only killed and drawen throughe the streates by the Romans: but also the priestes of all the Temples assembled together, and openly prayed vnto the gods that they would not receiue him to them, and prayed to the infernal furyes that greauously they would torment him, say­inge it is iustly required, y^t the Tirant which dispraiseth the life of y^e good in his life, should haue no place amōgest the good after his death. Leauing the common opinion of the rude people, whiche in the olde time had no know­ledge of the true god, & declaring the opinion of Aristole, which called god y^e first cause: y^e opinion of the Stoickes, which called him the firste intelligēce: and the opinion of Cicero, which vnder the colour of Iupiter, putteth none o­ther god but him: I saye and confesse (according to the religion of christian faith) there is but one only God, which is the creatour of heauen and earth, whose excellency and puissaunt maiestie is litle to that our tong can speake. For our vnderstāding can not vnderstand, nor our iudgemēt can determine, neither our memory can comprehende, and much lesse our tonge can declare it. That which princes and other faithful ought to beleue of god is, that they ought to know god to be almighty and incomparable, a god immortall, in­corruptible, immouable, great, omnipotent, a perfite and sempiternall God: for all mans power is nothing in respecte of his diuine maiesty. I saye that our lord god is the onely hyghe god, that if the creature hath any good, it is but a meane good. For a man comparing wel the good which he possesseth, to the misery and calamitie whiche persecute him: with out doubte the euill which foloweth him is greater, then the good which accompanieth him.

Also our god is immortall and eternall, which like as he had no beginning, so shall he neuer haue ending. And the contrarye is to the miserable man, which if some see him borne, others see him dye. For the byrth of the children, is but a memory of the graue to the aged. Also God onely is vncorruptible, the which in his beyng hath nother corruption nor diminution: but al mor­tall men suffer corruption in their soules throughe vyce, and in their bodyes through wormes, for in the end no man is priuileged, but that hys bodye is subiecte to corruption, and hys soule to be saued or damned. Also God is no chaungelyng, and in this case thoughe he chaungeth his worke, yet he chaungeth not his eternall counsayle. But in men it is all contrarye, for they oftetimes beginne their busynes with grauitye, and afterward chaung theyr counseill at a better tyme, and leaue it lyghtlye.

[Page]I haue now shewed you that God only is incomprehensible, y^e maiestie of whom can not be attained, nor his wisedome vnderstanded, which thing is aboue mans intelligence. For there is no man so sage nor profound, but y^t an other in an other tyme is as sage and profound as he. Also God onely is omnipotent, for that he hath power not only ouer the lyuinge, but also ouer the dead: not onely ouer the good, but also ouer the euill: For the man which doth not feele his mercy to giue him glory, he wil make him feele his wrath in giuinge him payne. O ye Princes of this world, trulie it is both iuste and necessarie that you acknowledge subiection vnto the Prince of heauen and earthe, whiche in the end althoughe ye be greate, and thynke your selues to be muche worthe, although that youe haue muche, and can do muche yet in respecte of the supreame prince you are nothing worth, neither can ye doe any thing. For there is no Prince in the worlde this daye but can doe lesse than he would, and would more than he hath. Since all that we haue spo­ken of before is true, let Princes and great Lordes see howe consonaunte it is to reason, that sythe all the creatures were not created but by one: Why then do they not honour one aboue all? For as a Prince will not suffer that an other be called kynge in his realme: so likewise god will not permit that any other be honoured in this worlde but he onely. The father did a greate benefite to vs, for to create vs without the desire of any man: and also the sonne to redeme & by vs without the healpe of any man, and aboue all the holye ghoste to make vs christians without the desert of anye man. For all the good deedes and seruices whiche we are able to do, are not sufficient to requite the leaste benefite that he shewed vnto vs. Princes ought greatly to esteme suche a gyfte, that god hath created them men, and not beastes: and muche more they shoulde esteme that they are made Lordes, and not ser­uauntes: but moste of all they ought to reioyce, that god hath made them christians, and not gentils, nor Moores. For it profiteth them litle to haue scepters and realmes to condempne, if they shall not acknowledge the holy church, without the which no man cā be saued. O diuine bountie, how ma­ny paynims had bene better peraduenture than I, if thou haddeste chosen them for the churche: & if thou hadst made me a Paynime, I had bene worse than they. Thou leauest them which haue serued the, and haste chosen me a sinner which offende the. Lorde God thou knowest what thou doest, and wher thou art: but I know not what I do, nor what I speake. For we are bounde to praise the workes of god, and haue not the lycence to call them backe. The Emperours & paynem kynges, which haue bene good and ver­tuous, (as there hathe bene many) so muche lesse they haue to aunswer, for that in time of charge they were not called. And likwise the contrary to the wicked christian princes. The more goodnesse they haue receyued without measure: so muche the more tormentes shalbe giuen them in eternall fyre. For accordyng to the ingratitude whiche they haue shewed, for the benefi­tes by them receiued in this worlde: so shall the bitternesse of their paines be, which they shal receiue in hell. Princes are muche bound to do well, because they were created of god reasonable men: but they are moche more bounde, because they be christians, and more then others bounde, because they were made mighty, and placed in so high estate, for the greatest power is not for [Page 13] a prince to haue and possesse muche, but to profite muche. They do not re­quire of a litle and weake tree muche, but that he beare his fruite in dewe time. For a great and high tree, is bounde to giue wood to heate them that be a cold, shadow to refreshe the very trauailours, and frute to confort the neady, and also it ought to defend it selfe from all importunate windes. For the vertuous prince, ought to be a shadow and resting place, wher the good may couer them selues being wearye. The churche dothe moue vs to do ma­ny things, and our conscience willeth vs to obserue more. But if the princes will promise me they will do .2. thinges onely, that is to say, that they wil be faithfull in the law of god whom they honour, and that they wil not vse ti­ranny against their people whom they gouerne: from hensforthe I promyse thē the glory and felicicie whiche they desire. For that prince only dieth in sa­fegarde, which dieth in the loue of our sauiour Iesus Christ, and hath lyued in the loue of his neyghbour. Princes and great lordes which presume to be good Christians, should watche greatly that all thinges myght be done to the seruice of god, begonne in god, followed in god, and ended in god. And if they will watche in this, I let them knowe, that as touchyng the exalta­cion of faith they shoulde watche so muche, that all shoulde knowe, that for the defence of the same they are readye to dye. For if the prince beleue that ther is paine for the euill, and rewarde for the good in an other lyfe: it is im­possible but that he amend his life, and gouerne wel his common wealth. Thinke this for a surety, that where the princes feare not god, neither them selues nor their realmes can prosper. For the felicitie or miserie of Realmes, proceadeth not of the paynes and trauailes that the kinges and people doe take: but of the merites which the kinges and realmes deserue. In great pe­ril liueth that realme, whose prince is an euil christian. Happye & sure is that common wealth, wherof the prince hath a good cōscience. For the man that is of a good conscience, will not doe any euill thing to the common wealth.

¶Of sondry gods which the auncientes worshipped, of the office of those gods, howe they were reuenged of them when they displeased them, and of the Twentie elect goddes. Cap. xi.

THough to men of clere iudgement, the woorkes of God are greate of them selues, without anye comparison to others: yet that the whyte maye be better knowen from the blacke, I will satisfye somewhat the curious reader, in rekenyng vp a flocke of false gods, that by them and their power, men shall see how muche the princes are bound to the true God. The auncient Panyms had gods of diuerse sortes, how be if the chiefe of al were these, which they called Diis electi. They would haue said gods of hea­uen: whiche gods (as they thoughte) sometime descended from heauen to earth. These gods were .xx. in nombre: as Ianus, Saturnus, Iupiter, Genius, Mar­curius, Apollo, Mars, Vulcanus, Neptunus, Sol, Orcus, Vibar, Tellus, Ceres, Iuno, Mi­nerua, Luna, Diana, Venus, Vesta. These .viii. laste rehersed were goddesses, and .xii. of the firste were goddes. No man myghte take anye of those as hys owne God, but as common and indifferent to all.

[Page]Their office was to profit all, I meane all of any one Realme, one prouince singuler, or one noble citie. And first note, they had one God whome they called Cantius, whom they honored much, & offred vnto him many sacrifices, to thende that God might giue them wyse children. And this if they had de­maunded of the true God, they should haue had reason. For the impostu­mation of humain malice is swelled in suche wyse, that that man is in great ieopardie, whom God hath not indued with wyse iudgement. They had also an other Goddesse, whom they named Lucina, to whom they did com­mende women, quick and great with chylde, to sende them safe deliuerie. And without the walles of Rome, in a streate called Salaria, she had a great churche, wherin all the Romaine women conceiued with childe, did sacrifice to their goddesse Lucina: and as Fronten declareth de Veneratione deorum, there they remayned nyne dayes and nyne nightes, making their vowe. Numa Pompilius buylte the churche of this goddesse, which was plucked downe by the Consull Rutilius, because a doughter of his (great with childe) made her vowe, and kept her nyne Vigilles, and vpon more deuotion, was desirous to be deliuered in the saide temple. Suche was her mishappe, that her deliuery was not onely euill, but her death was much worse. Whereupon Rutilius in his rage, caused the temple secretly to be burned. For we reade many times, that when the Gentyles sawe they were distressed and in great necessitie, they recommended them selues to their Gods: and if they did not then suc­cour them in their necessitie, immediatly they toke from them their sacrifice, bette downe their temples, or chaunged their Gods. And further, the Gen­tiles had an other god called Opis, which was called y^e God of the babe newe borne euen as Lucina was goddesse of the mother whiche bare it. The cu­stome was, that during all the nyne monethes, that the woman was quick with chylde, she caried the image of the God Opis hanging vppon her belly, tyed to her girdle, or sowed to her garmentes, and at the houre of her deliue­rie, the mydwyfe toke in her hands the saide image, and euen in the verye byrth before herselfe layde handes vpon it, she first of all towched the childe with the Idoll. If the childe were well borne, the parentes that daye made great oblations to the Idoll: but if it were euill or dead borne, straight way the parentes of the childe did beate the image of the poore God Opis to pow­der, or els burned it, or drowned it in the ryuer. Also the Gentyles worship­ped an other God called Vaginatus, and vnto him they did great sacrifice, be­cause their children should not weepe muche: and therfore they caried the image of this god Vaginatus, hanged about their neckes, for the Gentiles thought it an euill signe and token, whan the Babe wept muche in his in­fancie, he should haue very euill fortune in his age. They had also an other God called God Cuninus, him they honoured with sacrifice, to thend that he should be their Patrone for the safetie of their children in their cradels. And those whiche were poore, had the God Cuninus hanged vpon the cradell, but the ryche had very sumptuouse cradelles, wherein were painted many gods Cunini▪ Herodian, and Pulio, declareth in the life of Seuerus, that when the Em­perour Seuerus was in the warre against the Gavvles, his wyfe (whose name was Iulia) was deliuered of a daughter, whiche was her first. And it happe­ned, that a sister of this Iulia named Mesa (natiue of Persia, and of the citie of [Page 14] Mesa) sent vnto her sister at Rome a cradell, all of an Vnicornes horne, and fine gold: and about the same was painted many images of the god Cuni­nus. The cradel was of so great value, that many yeres after it was kept in the Treasurie of Rome: Though in dede the Romaines kept those thinges, more for the desire of memorie, than for the loue of ryches. The Romaines had likewise an other god, whom they called god Ruminus, whiche was as muche to saie, as God of sucking Babes: and to him the matrones of Rome offered diuerse sacrifices, to thende he woulde kepe their breastes from cor­ruption, and geue them mylke enough for their litle children. And all the whyle they gaue the chyld sucke, thei had the image of this god about their neckes hanging downe to their brestes. And euery morning before she gaue the childe sucke, the mother sent a dishe full of mylke to offer to the God Ru­minus, and if she happened to be in suche place where there was no churche dedicated to the God Ruminus, then she bathed her god Ruminus she hadde with her, in mylke. They had also an other God, whom they called God Stel­linus, and him they impropered to their children when they began to goe. To this god the matrones offered many giftes, that their children might not be lame, Dwarfes, nor impotent or decrepite, but that they might be able to go well. For among the Romaines, those that were Criples or Dwarfes, were had in suche contempt, that they could neither beare office in the Senate, nor be admitted priestes in the temples. Hercules in his thirde booke, De repub. saith that Cornelia, (that worthy woman and mother of the Gracchi) had her twoo first sonnes, the one lame, and the other a Dwarfe. Whereupon supposinge the god Stellinus had bene wrath with her, she bylte him a Temple in the .xii. region, neare to the fieldes Gaditanus, amongest the Gardens of Detha, and this temple remained till the tyme of Randagismus, who besieging Rome, de­stroyed the Temples, and brake vp their gardines about Rome. They had also an other god, called Adeon, and his chardge was, that when the childe could goe well, he should go to his mother and make muche of her. And allbeit Cicero in his booke De natura Deorum, putteth this god amongest the o­ther gods, yet I do not remember that I haue euer read that this god had any Temple in Rome till the tyme of Mammea, mother of the Emperoure Antoninus. This excellente woman beinge lefte a wydowe, and with two litle children, desiering that they might be well and vertuously brought vp, and that they should increase their loue towardes her, she buylte to the god Adeon, a sumptuous Temple in the .xii. region Vaticanus, neare to the gardens of Domicilius, and hard adioyning to that also, she erected one other edi­fice called Sacellum Mammae, where she abode solitarely for a tyme. For the maner and custome at that time was, that all wydowes (whiche woulde bryng vp their children in good discipline) should immediatly seuer thēselues farre from the daungerous pleasures of Rome. The auncientes had also an other god called Mentallis, which was in effect god of wyt. That is to wyte, he had authoritie and power to giue children good or euill sence. And to this god the auncientes did great sacrifices, especially the Greekes, muche more than the Romaines. For as muche as Seneca saith, that he doth meruayle no­thyng at all of that the Greekes knewe: but that whiche made him most to marueile, was of that they knewe not, since they had the temple of the god [Page] Mentallis, within their scholes. All the children whome they sent to learne Philosophie, were (by the lawes of Athens) bounde to serue three yeares in that temple. And to omyt that, whiche Seneca spake of the Greekes, I dare boldely saye and affirme (to many whiche at these dayes are liuing) that if it be true, he gaue sence and vnderstanding to men, that they would to daye, rather than to morowe, withdrawe them selues to goe into those temples, and there offer their vowes. For nothing in the worlde happeneth to men more, then the wante of wytte and vnderstanding howe to gouerne them selues, & lyue in quiet. They had also an other God Volunus, and a goddesse called Voluna, these two had the charge of affiaunce in wedlocke: and ther­fore they were twoo, because the one should healpe the man, and the other should helpe the woman. The maner was such, that during the time of their mariage, ech of them ware the image of their owne god about their neckes, and those were of golde or syluer. And after they were maried, the bride­grome gaue vnto his spouse the goddesse Voluna, and the bride vnto her husbande the god Volunus. At suche times as the consulles were created at Rome, and the kings banished, and before the comming of the Emperours, a litle before the Cornelians moued ciuill commocions in Rome, there was one Consull amongeste all these whose name was Balbus. It is sayde he was the first that builded the temple of Volunus, and Voluna. It did stande in the nynth warde of the citie, neare vnto the gate Corinthia and was called Scrip­ta Balbi. And nighe vnto it was an other building called Theatrum Balbi. All the Consuls, Senatours, noble and renowmed barons, were maried in the Temple which Balbus builte. That night that Pompey the great maried Iulius Caesars daughter, there were some that saide, that Pompey refused to marie her in the temple of the gods Volunus, and Voluna, whereupon they diuined straight that the mariage would not indure long betwixt them. As wri­teth Publius Victor in his thirde booke De nuptijs antiquorum. The auncient Pagans honoured a god called Agrestes, as muche to saye, as the god of fieldes and fruites: to him they offred no sacrifice but twyse in the yeare, that is to wete, in seede time, and in haruest. The Phrigians (that is the Troyans and Ci­cilians) greatly obserued this god Agrestes, and it was for that in those twoo countries there was gathered suche plentie of corne to make bread, that Phri­gia was the great garner of Asia, and Trinacria (that was Cicilia) was the corne house of Europe. They had another god called Belus, which was patrone of men of warre. For euen as the Christians (when they come to the poynte to geue the battayle) make their praiers vnto god: so likewyse the auncientes in the same pointe did knele downe, and recommende them selues to god Belus. Liuie declareth, that in all other thinges which were done, and wherof the Romaine knightes were accused in the battaile of Cannas (against Hanni­bal) was for that they did not recommende them selues at all to the god Belus, when they should giue battayle, saying the Carthagians remayned con­querours, because they a litle before honoured the god Mars: & the Romaines were vanquished, for that they offred no sacrifice to god Belus. When Pirrus, king of the Epirotes (that is of Albanie) came into Italie, and that the Ro­maynes were aduertised, he brought with him many engins, and subtile in­uentions for the warre, they agreed to buylde a Temple for the god Belus, [Page 15] within the walles of Rome, in the nynth warde nere the gate Carmentalle, & it was named Edes Beloe, in the fronte whereof was a marueylous sumptu­ous and stately pyller, wherein was grauen thorder of battayle. The Gen­tiles had another god called the god of victorie, to whome the Romaines (more then any other nation) did sacrifices, to thende they might obtayne victorie of their enemies. Of this god Victoria, there was many magnificall temples in Rome, but the chiefest and the greatest was adioyning to the gate Venia, in the twelfte warde, in the place called Della victoria. It was builte in the yeare of the foundation of Rome, foure hundreth, thre score and seuentene. And it was for thoccasion of the victorie, that Appius Claudius, and Quintus Fabius had in Scicill, the firste tyme the Romaine people foughte a­gainst the Affricanes, Herones being king. Of this warre and victorie, rose the cruell, long, and perillous warres betwene Rome and Affrike. There was another god amongest the gods, whome the auncientes called Hono­rius, whiche had the charge that the Inkeapers should honour and gently intertaine Pylgrimes, and straungers: so that they should be well handled, through the prouinces and realmes whereby they passed. And there was a custome in Rome, that euer when any Romaine should goe any vyage, his wyfe immediatly should go to the temple of god Honorius to doe her sacrifi­ces. In the fiftene yeare after that Hannibal passed into Italie, the Romains knewe by a prophecie, that as sone as they brought the image of the god­desse Berecinthia (mother of all the gods) into Rome: so sone Hannibal shoulde retire out of Italy. And to bryng this to passe, the Romaines sent their Em­bassadours into Phrigia, whiche is one parte of Asia, to thende they shoulde brynge the goddesse Berecinthia to Rome. And because their Embassadours should go well and retourne safe, and that in comming and going throughe the Realmes, they should entertaine them well, and doe them honoure: they buylt a tēple for the god Honorius within the walles of Rome, in the fourth warde, in a place whiche they called Forum Transitorium.

¶Of other more naturall and peculiar Gods, whiche the auncient peo­ple had. Cap. xxii.

AND because it should not be to tedious a thing, to name all the gods whiche the Gentiles worshipped, and semblably in whose tyme and reigne they honoured them moste, and what Realmes were more re­plenished then others, and furthermore for what causes so many temples, and buyldynges, were ordeyned and erected for them: I wyll make men­tion onely of those Goddes, whiche were called naturall Gods, and parti­culer Gods, and declare why the Gentiles honoured them.

And this onely moueth me to it, because those whiche shall see this my wrytinge maye knowe what a speciall grace God hathe giuen to them, whiche are borne in the tyme of the Christian lawe. Knowe you therefore, that the god Esculanus was the god of Mines of golde and syluer. Pecunia was the goddesse of metalles: and they prayed vnto her, to geue them trea­sures and ryches. Fessoria was the goddesse of trauaylours and Pylgrimes: and they prayed to her, that she would not suffer them to be wery that tra­uayled on foote. Pelonia was a goddesse whiche had the charge to dryue the ennemies out of the lande. Esculapius was the god and patrone of sicke men, [Page] and if the maladie were great, they called vppon the God Apollo, whiche was father to Esculapius Spinensis was a god whome the auncientes prayed to kepe the corne from thistles and thornes. Rubigo was a god which kepte the Vines from wormes, and the corne from locustes. Fortuna was the god­desse of good fortune: and to her the auncient wyues of Rome made a temple, in the tyme of Silla and Marius. Muta was the goddesse to whome the auncientes praied, that she would not suffer their ennemies to speake, when they would speake euill of them. Genoria was a goddesse that had the charge to chase slouthfulnesse from them, that recommended them selues to her: and the Greekes honoured her, especially the Philosophers, when they entred into study & vniuersities. Stimula was a goddes which hastened thē of their busynes, to thend they should not forget any thyng they had to do. And her image was at Rome ouer the gate of y^e Senate house, for she was takē for aduocate of the pleaders. Murcia was a goddesse and an aduocate for men & women, whiche desired not to be leane nor weake of their bodies, & to this goddesse the women of Rome offred many giftes, to the ende they might be fatte. For in Rome, maydens and women are forsaken because they be leane and sclender, and not for that they be foule and fatte. Busina properly was a goddesse of the fieldes, and to her the auncientes offred sacrifice, be­cause she should loke to the grasse that grew in the fieldes. And the Scithians were great worshippers of that goddesse, because they hadde no houses in townes but kept the fieldes euen with their flockes, whiche if they wanted grasse died immediatly, and then they were vtterly vndone. Iugatiuus was he that was called the god of the highe mounte, & to him the auncientes made a lodge and aulters in the toppe of the highest mountaines, whereunto thei went oftentimes to doe sacrifice, especially when it thundred and lightned. Vallonia was the goddesse of the valleis, and she had the charge to bridle the waters that discended from the mountaynes, to the ende they shoulde not endomage the medowes and milles whereby they passed. Ceres was a god­desse of all nacions honoured, for that she was goddesse of corne and of o­ther soueraigne seedes: and the aūcientes had a custome to offer her a loafe of all the seedes and corne that they sowed. Her lodges and aulters to doe sacrifice were in the fieldes, but besides those she had a temple in Rome in the ninthe warde, in the fieldes of Mars, harde by the gardens of Lucullus, and it is saide that out of this temple came firste the fountaine of Scipio. Segecia was a goddesse that hadde the charge to make the seedes to growe after they were sowen. I doe not remember I haue read that she had any tem­ple in Rome. Tutillina was a goddesse, whose office was to entreate Iupiter not to beate downe the corne with haylestones when it was ready to bee repte. And the auncientes painted her in suche sorte, that it seemed Iupiter did cause it to rayne stones, and that this goddesse Tutilina shoulde gather them all. She had a temple in Rome in the tenth warde, in the market place of Apollo, nere vnto the house of Romulus. And at euery tyme when it thun­dred, immediatly the Romaynes lyghted a great nombre of candelles in the temple to appease the goddesse that she shoulde keepe their corne and seede from hurte. Flora was the mercifull goddesse of the Vines, that preserued them from froste. And those of Capua were great worshippers of this god­desse, [Page 16] for they saye that they were the firste that planted Vynes in Italy. Matura was a goddesse that hadde the charge to rype grapes: and the aun­cientes vsed a custome, to offer the fyrste grapes whiche were rype, in the place where the goddesse was. And for the more parte euerye man that had Vynes, made in the fielde a lodge and an aultar to sacrifice vnto her. Ruana was a goddesse and aduocate for them that gathered the corne and other graynes, to the ende they should doe no hurte in cutting away the eare, nor shoulde marre the strawe, and that in cuttynge, the corne shoulde not shake from the eare. And therefore the auncientes painted her, holding in her right hande a handfull of strawe, and the eares were whole. Forculus was the God of Lockesmythes, and the auncientes sacrificed hym, because he should locke faste the dores, and should not suffer them to be broken open, nor picked, nor adultered keyes to be made: the auncientes paynted this God holdinge a chayne in one hande, and twoo doores in the other: his image was ouer the gate of Trigemine, and specially ouer their doores that hadde enemies. Limentimen was God of the hammers of the gates. I coulde not fynde what the entention was to inuente thys God, but as I thynke (not for that I haue founde it wrytten) they prayed this God that when there shoulde come anye ennemy of theirs to the house, that he shoulde cause them stumble, and fall before the dore, if perhappes by negligence it were lefte open. Portulus was the god of the gates, and the auncientes dyd paynte hym with twoo gates in his handes, and did sacrifice hym, because no man should open the gates to the enemies when they slepte: and to hym the Romaines did sacrifice in all the gates of Rome, and those whiche hadde enemies, would paynte hym in the gate of their house. Cardea was a God­desse of the barres & hingies of the gates, and the cause why the auncientes did sacrifice to her, was that no man shoulde breake the gates, nor lift vp the hingies, and that if they went about to put to their handes, immediatly the hingies should make a noyse to wake the maister of the house that he might heare it, and knowe that his enemies were at the gate. There was another god who was called Siluanus, and he was moste honoured among the aun­cientes, especially among all the Romaines. This god had the charge to kepe those from perill and misfortune that went for their pleasure and recreation to the Gardeynes, as Plynie sayeth in an epistle he wrote to Rutilius. The firste that buylte a temple for the god Syluanus, was Mecenas, whiche was in the tyme of Augustus. And he desyred aboue all other men, to make feastes and bankettes in Gardeins. This temple was in the eleuenth warde, in the fielde of the goddesse Venus, neare vnto the house of Murcea, whiche was de­stroied in the time of the Emperour Antonius Pius throughe an earthquake, whereby many buyldinges and houses fell in Rome. Iugatibus was the god of mariages, who had charge to make the loue which begon in youth, to en­dure till the olde age. It was wonderfull to see how the women newly ma­ried, went on pylgremage for deuotion vnto this god, and what giftes and presentes they offered in his temple. Suetonius Tranquillus saithe, that there was a Temple of this God, but I fynde not in wrytyng by whome it was buylte: sauyng that Helius Spartianus sayth, that the Emperoure Heliogabalus founde muche rychesse in the Temple of Iugatibus, the whiche he tooke away to mayntayne his warres.

[Page] Bacchus was the God of, drunkardes, and the custome in Rome was, that only madde men and fooles celebrated the feaste of this God, and if there wer found any of wit & vnderstandyng (wer it neuer so litle) they thrust him forthewith out of the Temple, and soughte in his steade another drunkard. The Temple of Bacchus was in the tenthe warde, in the medowes which they call Bacchanales, withoute the citie, in the waye of Salaria, by the Aul­ters of the Goddesse Februa, and it was bilte by the Gaules, when they besie­ged Rome in the time of Camillus. Februa was a goddesse for the feuers, and they vsed in Rome when any was taken with the feauer, immediatelye to sende some sacrifice vnto her.

This Goddesse hadde no temple at al, but her Image was in Pautheon, whiche was a temple wherein al the goddes were, and in this place they sa­crificed vnto her. Pauor was the God of feare, who hadd the charge to take feare from the Romaines hartes, and to gyue them stoute courage against their enemies. The Temple of this god Pauor was in Rome, in the sixte warde, in the place of Mamuria, nere the olde Capitoll: and euer when they had any enemyes, the Romaynes forthewith offred in this place sacrifices, and there was in the same temple a statue of Scipio the Affricane all of siluer, which he offred there when he triumphed ouer the Carthagians.

Meretrix was the goddesse of dishonest women, and as Publius Victor saieth, there was in Rome fourty streates of cōmen women, in the myddest wher­of the temple of this Meretrix was. It chaunsed in the time of Ancus Martius (the forthe kynge of the seuen Romayne Kynges) that there was in Rome a courtizan, natiue of Laurento, whiche was so fayre, that with her bodye she gayned greate ryches, whereof she made all the Romayne people parta­kers. Wherefore in memorye of her the Romaynes bilt ther a temple, and made her Goddesse of all the common women in Rome. Cloatina was God­desse of the stoole, and to this goddesse all those commended them selues whiche were troubled with the Collycke, to thend she would healpe them to purge their bealies. Quies was the goddesse of rest, and to her the Romaynes did great sacrifices, because she should gyue them pleasour and rest, especial­lye one that day, when there was any triumphe in Rome, they gaue in this Temple many gyftes, because she should preserue the glorye and ioye of the triumphes. Nunia Pompilius (seconde Kyng of the Romaynes) builte the tem­ple of this Goddesse, and it was without the citie, for to note that durynge the lyfe of man in this worlde, he coulde neyther haue pleasoure nor reste. Theatrica was a goddesse, that had the charge to kepe the Theatres & Sta­gyes, when the Romaynes celebrated their playes: and thoccasion of inuen­ting of this Goddesse was, because when the Romaynes woulde set forthe their tragedies, they made so solempne theatres, that there myghte wel stand xx. thousand men aboue, & as manye vnderneth for to beholde the spectacle. And sometime it happened, that for the greate wayghte of them aboue, the wode of the theatres and stages brake, & killed all those which were vnder­neth: & so after this sorte all their pastime turned into sorrow. The Romay­nes (which wer prouided in al thinges) agred to do sacrifice vnto y^e Goddesse Theatrica, to thende she should preserue them from the daungers of the Thea­ters, [Page 17] and built her a temple in the nynth ward, in the Market place of Cor­nelia, neare to the house of Fabij Domitian the xii. Emperour of Rome dystroyed this Temple, because in his presence one of the Theaters brake, and kil­led many men. And for that the goddesse Theatrica dyd not preserue them, he made the Temple to be beaten downe. Peraduenture those that haue red lytle shal find these things new inoughe: but let theym reade Cicero, in his booke De natura Deorum: Iohn Bocchas, of the genealogie of gods: and Pulio of the aunciente Gods: and Saint Augustine in the firste, xi. and the xviii. booke of the cytie of God, and they shall fynd a great nomber more then is spoken of.

¶How Tiberius the knyghte was chosen gouernour of the empire, and af­terwardes created Emperoure, only for being a good Christian. And how God depriued Iustinian the yonger, both of his empire and sences for being an heretike. Cap. xiii.

THe fiftye Emperour of Rome, was Tiberius Constantinus, who succeded Iustinian the younger which was a cruell Emperoure. And Paulus Diaco­nus sayeth, that he was an enemye to the poore: a thefe to the rich, a great lo­uer of riches, and an enemy to him selfe in spending them. For the propertie of a couetous man is to liue like a begger all the dayes of his lyfe, and to be founde riche at the houre of his deathe. This Iustinian was so couetous, that hee commaunded coffers and chestes of iron to bee made, and brought into his palayce to kepe the treasours whiche he hadde robbed. And of this you ought not to meruel, for Seneca sayth, that couetous Prynces doo not onely suspect their subiectes, but also theym selues. In those dayes the church was greatly defyled, by the heresye of the Pelagians, and the mayn­teyner of that sect was this wicked Prince Iustinian: so that for him selfe he procured riches, and for the Deuill he cheapned soules. For those that are once forsaken of the hande of God, do not only become seruantes of the de­uil, but also labour to allure others to hell. Wherfore sith the sinnes of men are dyuerse, and the iudgements of God kept secrete, and that yet the lyuing God is so merciful, that not with standing his mercy would saue the soules, he wil also with iustyce chastise the bodies. And therfore seing the obstinacye of this Emperour to be such that the lenger he lyued the more he augmen­ted his damnacion, the wrathe of God lighted vpon him, and sodainly with out any grudge or tokē of sicknes, this Emperour Iustinian was derriued of his sences & became a foole: & because the matter was so sodaine, it caused in Rome great feare, and admiracion, for that the Prince was a foole, and all the Empire chaunged. And in dede This Emperour was so stryken, that his life and follye ended both in one day. For the dyseases which God sendethe to Princes, commeth not through faulte of humours, but through the cor­rupcion of maners. Also ther is no medicyne that can resist it, nor yet anye other thing that can remedye it. The people perceiuyng howe the Empe­rour through hys synnes was (according to the diuine pleasoure) become a foole, agreed (sythe there was no remedye for his dyssease) to chuse some good person to whom the charge of the publyke weale myght be gyuen. [Page] For trulye a man needeth greater pacience and wysedome to gouerne ano­ther mans, then for that whiche is his owne proper. The lotte befell to a Knyghte Tiberius so called, a man for a truthe bothe chaste, iuste, profitable, sage, vertuous, hardy, merciful, charitable, in feates of armes aduenturous, and aboue all a good Christian. And let not this thynge be lytle regarded that the Prince be a good Christian. For there is no state so happy as that, whiche is gouerned by a Prince of a good and faitheful conscience, and be­cause he wanted no vertues to adorne a Prince, he was both feared of ma­nye, and beloued of all. Which thinge oughte not lyghtlye to be estemed, for it is the chiefest thinge that belongethe to Prynces, that is to wete, for their gentle conuersacion to be beloued, and for their vprighte iustice, to be feared. This Emperour Iustinian had a wyfe, whose name was Sophia Augusta, whyche was beautifull and sage, and as touchynge her person, of good re­nowme sufficient. For women must take great respect, least they giue stran­gers occasion to speake of them, but notwithstanding al these thinges, thys dame was noted of couetousnes. For she toyled alwayes to hourde vp mo­nye, and delighted to see and tell it, but to spende or giue it, was alwayes her greatest griefe. For couetous parsones lytle regarde to shorten their lyfe, so that they maye augment their ryches. Tiberius Constantine, as gouernour of the Empire (seinge the Empresse Sophia Augusta ryche, and desiring more the profite of the common wealthe, then the enrychement of hym selfe or of any other) did nothyng els but builde monasteryes, repayre hospytalles, marye Orphanes, and redeme captyues. For speakynge accordyng to the Christian lawes, that that a man hath more then necessarye, oughte to be employed to the vse of the poore, and to workes of mercy. Finally this vertuous prince did that whiche Christian Princes shoulde doe, and not as tirauntes do, whiche made him of great excellencye. For the propertie of a tyraunte is to heape great treasours of other mens goodes, and afterwarde to spend and consume them viciously: but Tiberius founde them gathered together by one and he disparsed them to many: Sophia Augusta, seing Iustinia become a foole, and not knowynge how to get more mony of the people, nor how to robbe the riche, and that Tiberius spente her ryches withoute compassyon, partelye to satisfie her sorowfull hart, & partly to see if in time to com she could reme­dy it, called one day Tiberius a part & spake vnto him these wordes in secret.

¶Of the woordes the Empresse Sophia spake vnto Tiberius Constantinus then beyng gouernour of the Empyre, whyche only tended to reproue hym for that he lauishely consumed the treasure of the Empire gotten by her. Cap. xiiii.

THow remēbrest wel Tiberius, that though thou art now after Iustinian gouernour of the Empire: yet whan thou waste in Alexandrie, thou thoughtest litle to deserue it, and if thou diddest, thou thoughtest thou couldest not attayn vnto it. For thou art a wise man, & the sage man (accor­ding to the litle or muche which fortune giueth him) doth rayne or slacke al­wayes the brydell of his thoughtes. Those whiche haue a vaine hope, and thoroughe power onely wyll enforce fortune to be fauourable vnto them, shall lyue alwayes a troublesome life.

[Page 18]For there is nothynge that shorteneth more the life of man, then vayne hope, and ydle thoughtes. Thou beinge such a man as thou arte, and so wel willed and beloued of Iustinian my husband, art demaunded of the Romaine people, and chosen by the Senate, receiued by the souldiours, and al the Em­pire reioyce at thy election.

And thou oughtest not a litle to regarde it. For the willes of all doe not alwaies fauour one. I let the to vnderstand Tiberius, that it did not displease me thou shouldest be Emperour of Rome, sith Iustinian was deposed: and if I had perceyued that whiche I doe perceyue, or had knowen that which I doe knowe, I am certaine that I had neyther sayd with it nor againste it. For we wemen are of so litle credite, that it preuaileth vs more to approue the leaste of that which other saye, than it doth to speake very well our sel­ues. Sith fortune hath brought the to so high estate, I beseche the, admonish the, and aduise the, that thou knowe howe to keape and gouerne thy selfe therein. For to arise to honour, it sufficeth the bodye to sweate water: but to mainteine it, it is necessary that the hart weepe bloude. Thou knowe [...]t righte well, that to commaunde more, to doe more, and to haue more then other (as touching the affayres of Princes) oftentimes is giuen more tho­roughe worldly care, then for the deserte of the personne. And this God suf­fereth very ofte, to the ende we may see those discende and fall through in­famy: whom we saw mounte and prosper by pryde. Thou art a man, and I a woman, Thou hast wisedom and knowledge, but I haue large and long experience, and if thou knowest much, I haue seene in the worlde enough, but in faith for that I haue sayd I tell the, that men of thy sorte are vndone in the palaice of princes by 2. waies. The one, if they thinke they deserue much, and they can doe litle. For hauty mindes brynge alwayes alteration in the harte. The other is, that one alone will commaund the Emperour and the empire: whereunto if any man come, it is by greate trauayle, and he shall sustayne it with daunger, and shall possesse it but a shorte time. For it is im­possible y^t to a man of muche arrogancie, fortune should be to long faithful.

Though thou be wyse and sage, I counsell the alwayes to profite with an other mans counsaile, chiefely in thinges concerninge the gouernemente of the state. For to know to obey, and to know to commaunde differ much.

For to know to obey, commeth by nature: but to knowe to commaunde, commeth by long experience. Take this of me for a generall rule, that wher­as thou seest they praier to be acceptable, neuer take vpon the commaunde­ment: for by commaundement thou shalte be feared, and by prayer thou shalte be beloued. Know thou Tiberius, the thinges that content thē worste, which ar in y^e court of Princes: are to do litle, to haue litle, & to be litle worth.

For the man that is without fauour, in his heart is halfe dead. For the contrary, the thing whiche most perilleth the fauored of Princes & maketh them loase their frendshipp, is to be of great power, and great in autoritie, & more ouer than this, to profite more of will then of knowledge, of auctoritie than of reason. For a man can not lyue long in frendshyppe, whych dothe what he wyll in the common wealthe. I haue spoken all thys to thende thou shouldest knowe that I greatlye maruayle at thy prudence, and haue no lesse wonder of my pacience. To see that the treasours whych Iustinian [Page] heaped together by great trauaile, kept and preserued with great care, thou wastest without respect what thou doeste. And doe not maruaile at this: For ther is no pacience can suffer to se the proper gods wasted and spent by the hands of an other, which w^t so great care hath ben gathered together. I let the know Tiberius, that now we haue neyther money to kepe, nor to gyue to others, which thing is very peryllous for the palace of Princes. For the fame to haue great treasours, causeth Princes to keape their enemyes in feare. It is necessarie for princes to bee stoute, and also riche, for by their stoutnes they maye gouerne their owne, and by their riches, they may re­presse their enemyes. It is not only necessarie that the Prince be not poore, but also it is requisitie that his common wealth be rych. For where the peo­ple are poore, of their enemies they are nothinge regarded: and where the common wealth is riche, the Prince can not be greatly poore. I will not de­nay but that it is wel done to help the poore, and succour the needy. But yet I say, that no man ought to giue the treasour to any one particulerly, which is kepte for the preseruation of al. For oftentimes the prince which is to ly­beral in geuing his owne, is after wardes through necessitie compelled to be a Tyranne, and take from others. I let the wete Tiberius, that thou shalte finde few Princes but are proude, maglignaunt, or vicious. For of a trouth wantonnesse, lybertie, youthe, and riches, are cruell enemyes to honestie, I wyll not say that all princes haue bene euil, but I wil say ther hath bene but few good, and those which are or wil be good, ought to be greatly honou­red. For no time ought to be called happie, but that wherin vertuous Prin­ces do reygne.

And I say to the further Tiberius, if Princes become Tyrants for want of riches, so do they become vicious through aboundaunce of treasurs, and in this case, vicious princes are chastened in the same vyce. For auarice hath such power ouer them, y^t it suffereth them not to taste their owne delight.

And I let the wete Tiberius, that there are many Princes whiche are of good nature, and yet become Tyrants, for nothing els but because they be oppressed with pouertie.. For truly the noble hart refuseth no daunger, seing him selfe assaulted with pouertie.

Therfore I demaund of the which is better, or otherwise which of these two euilles is leaste: that the Prince be poore, and with that a Tiranne: or that he be riche, and therwith vicious.

In mine opinion it wer much better to be riche and viciouse, then a tiranne and poore: for in the end if he do euil by vyce, he should be euil to no man but to himselfe: by riches he should profit al the people. And if he be poore and a tyranne, he should do great euil to many, and by pouertie he could profit no man. For the poore prince cannot maintaine the riche, and much lesse succour the poore, without comparison it is more profitable to the common wealth, and more tollerable to men, that the Prince be an euil man, and therwithall a good prince: than an euil Prince, and therwithal a good man. For as Plato saithe, the Athenians wold alwayes rather seeke a profitable, then a stoute Prince: and the Lacedemonians dyd erre, in willing rather a stoute Prince then profitable. Therfore see Tiberius, it is more sure and profitable for the common wealthe, that Princes haue treasours to giue lyberalye amonge [Page 19] their seruantes: then that they should be poore and enforced to oppresse their people with taxes and subsidies. For princes oftetimes throughe pouertie, take occasion to leauy great subsedies in their realmes and seignories.

¶The aunswere of Tiberius vnto the Empresse Sophia Augusta: Wher­in he declareth that noble Princes neade not to hourd vp great treasures: And of the hidden treasure this good Emperour found by reuelacion, in the Palace wher he remayned. Cap. xv.

TIberius heard very paciently the admonicion of the Empresse, wherfore with great reuerence he aunswered, and with swete & gentle words he spake to her in this sorte. I haue hearde and vnderstode what you haue tolde me (moste noble Princesse Sophia, alwayes Augusta): and do re­ceyue your gentle admonicions, moste humblye thankinge you for your lo­uing counsayle, which principally you giue me in so hyghe a style. For often­times sicke men abhorre meates, not for that y^e meates are not good, but be­cause they are not wel dressed. If it were gods pleasour, I would I knewe aswel how to do these thinges, as you know how to speake theim. And do not maruaile though I make hereof a doubt, for we greatly desyre to praise vertuous workes: but to put them in vre we are very slow. Speaking ther­fore with such reuerence (as is due vnto so hyghe a Ladie) to euerye one of these things which your excellencie hath tolde me, I wil aunswere in one word. For it is reason, sithe you haue spoken that which you perceyue of my deedes: that I speake that which I gather of your words. You tell me that when I was in Alexandrie I thought not to be gouernour of the empire af­ter Iustinian, and that I thought not my selfe worthy to deserue it, nor yet lo­ked to come vnto it. To this I aunswere, that thoughe by reason I gouer­ned my selfe at that tyme, yet I ought not to thinke to deserue such a dig­nitie, nor to come to so highe an estate. For those whiche by vertues deserue great dignities are but few: and fewer are those which attayne vnto them though they deserue them. But if this matter be iudged accordyng to sensu­alitie, I tel you truly (dame Augusta,) that I thought not only to deserue it, but also I thought to come vnto it. And hereof marueyle not, for it is an vnfallible rule, wher leeste desert is, ther is most presumption. You saye you estemed me for a wise man, and that by wisedome I could ouercome any disordinate appetite. To this I answere, that you knewe my wisedome ey­ther in mine owne busines, or els in other mens affayres. Yf in other mens affayres, (where it dyd coast me nought) I was alwayes a louer of iustice. For there is no man in the world so euyl, that doth not desire (if it be with­out his owne coast) to be counted lyberall. But if you iudge me (Dame Au­gusta) on mine owne busines, giue not to lyghte credite. For I will that you know, ther is no man so iuste, nor of so clere a iudgement, that doth not shew him selfe frayle in matters which touche his owne interest. You say that men which haue their thoughtes hyghe, and their fortune base, lyue al­waies a pensife lyfe. Truly it is as you say. But in mine opiniō, as the mem­bres of the bodyes are but instrumentes of y^e mind, so is it necessary for men to haue quicke and sharpe wittes, if they wil not be neglygente. For if [Page] Alexander, Pyrrus, Iulius Cesar, Scipio, and Hanniball, had not bene hyghe myn­ded, they had not bene (as they were) so noble and stout Princes.

I let you vnderstand, most noble Princesse, that men are not lost for ha­uing their thoughtes hygh, nor for hauing their hartes couragious, neyther for being hardie and stout: but they are vndone, because they begin thinges throughe folie, pursue them without wisdome, and atchieue them without discression.

For noble men enterprising great things, ought not to employ their force as their noble hart willeth, but as wisedome and reason teacheth. You say, you meruaile why I wast the treasours without care, which Iustinian and you gathered togethers with great paine. To this I aunswere, you oughte not to meruayle if all the treasours you heaped together of so longe tyme, were spent and consumed in one day. For ther is an auncient malediction on riches hydde, and treasours buried, which Epimenides casteth out sayinge these words. All the treasours hurded vp by the couetous, shal be wasted by the prodigall. You say through that I wast in few dayes, you shall haue nei­ther to giue, to wast, nor yet to eate at the yeres ende. To this I aunswere most gracious princesse, that if you had bene as ready to releue the poore, as you & Iustinian were dilygent to robbe the riche: then you should iustly haue complayned, and I worthely might haue repented. Tyll now we haue not sene, but that of the riche you haue made poore, & notwithstanding this, yet you haue not gotten enoughe to buyld an Hospital for the poore. You say y^e Princes to resist their enemyes haue neede of greate treasours. To this I aunswere, if Princes be proud, gready, and of straunge realmes ambicious, it is most certaine that they nede great treasours to accomplishe their disor­dinate appetites. For the end of a tyrānous prince is, by hooke or by crooke to make him selfe riche in his lyfe. But if the Prince be or wil be a man repo­sed, quyte, vertuous, paciente, peaceable, and not couetous of the good of an other man, what nede hath he of great treasours? For to speake truly, in princes houses ther is more offence in that y^t auaunceth, then in that that wanteth. I wil not wast many words in aunsweringe, sithe I am muche more liberal of dedes then of wordes: but I conclude, that ther is no Prince which in vertuous dedes wasteth so much, but if he wil, he may spend much more. For in the end, princes become not poore spending their goodes vpon necessaries: but for wasting it vpon things superfluous. And take this word for al, y^t for this he shal not be the porer, but rather y^e richer: For it is a general rule in Christian reglion, y^e god wil giue more to his seruaunts in one houre, thē they wil wast in 20. yeres. Iustinian was Emperour .11. yeres, who (being a foole, and obstinate in the heresye of Pellagien) died to the great offence of the Romaine people, whose death was asmuch desired, as his life abhorred. For the tirannous prince, that maketh many wepinge eyes in his life, shall cause many reioysing harts at his death. Iustinian being dead, Tiberius was e­lected Emperour, who gouerned y^e empire through so great wisedom and ius­tice, y^t no mā was able to reproue him if y^e histories in his time did not deceiue vs. For it seldō hapeneth to a prince to be as he was, vpright in iustice, pure in life, & clene in conscience. For few are those princes which of some vices are not noted Paulus Diaconus in his 18 boke of y^e Romain gestes, declare a thing [Page 20] merueilous which be fell to this emperour at that time, and very worthy to know at this present. And it is, that in the Citie of Constantinople the Ro­maine Emperours had a palace very sumptuous, and besemyng the aucto­ritie of the imperiall maiesty, which was begonne in the time of Constantine the greate, and afterwardes as the succession of good or euyll Emperours was, so were the buildings decayed or repayred. For it is the deede of a ver­tuous Prince, to abolyshe vices of the common wealth, and to make greate and sumptuous buildinges in his country. This Emperour Tiberius hadde spent treasours to redeme poore captiues, to build hospitalles, to erect mo­nasteries, to marie and prouide for the Orphanes and widowes, in this he was so prodigall, that it came almost to passe that he had nothing to eate in his palaice. And truly this was a blessed necessitie. For catholike Princes ought to thinke that well employed, which in the seruice of Christ is besto­wed. And hereof the Emperoure was not ashamed, but thought it a great glory, and that which onely greued him was, to see the Empresse reioyce so much at his miserye. For the high and noble hartes which feele them selues wounded, do not so much esteme their owne paine, as they do to see their enemyes reioyce at their griefe. God neuer forsoke theym that for his sake became poore, as it appeareth by this: It chaunced one day that euen as the Emperour Tiberius walked in the middest of his palace, he saw at his feete a marble stone, whiche was in fourme of the crosse, of the reademer of the world. And because it had bene to vniuste a thing (as he thoughte) to haue spurned that with his feete, wherwith we trust from our enemyes to be de­fended: he caused the stone to be taken vp, (not thinking any thing to be ther vnder) and immediatly after they found an other, wherin likewise was the forme of the crosse, and this beyng taken vp, they founde an other in lyke maner, and when that was pluct vp from he bottome, there was found a trea­sor which conteyned the some of 2. millions of Duckettes, for the which the good Emperour Tiberius gaue vnto all mighty god most high thankes, and wheras before he was lyberal, yet afterwardes he was much more bounti­ful: For all those treasours he distrybuted amongest the poore and needye people. Let therfore mighty princes, and great lords see, reade, and profit by this example, and let them thinke them selues assured, that for geuing almes to the poore, they nede not feare to become poore: for in the end the vycious man cānot cal him self rich, nor the vertuous man can counte him selfe poore.

¶How the Chefetaine Na [...]setes ouercame manye battailes, only for that his whole confidence was in god. And what happened to him by the Empresse Sophia Augusta: wherin may be noted the vnthankefulnes of Princes towardes their seruauntes. Cap. xvi.

IN the yere of the incarnacion of Christ. 528 (Iustinian the great being Emperour, who was the sonne of Iustines sister his predecessour in y^e Empyre) the histories say, in especially Paulus Diaconus in the 18. booke Degestis Ro­manorum: that ther was a knighte of Greece in Rome, who from hys ten­der yeres hadde bene broughte vppe in Italye. He was a man of meane stature of a colericke complexcion, and in the Lawe of Christe verye de­uoute, whyche was no small thinge. For at that tyme not onelye manye knightes, but almoste all the Bishoppes of Italye were Arrians.

[Page]This knightes name was Narsetes, and because he was so valliant in armes and so aduenturous in warres: he was chosen Chefeteyne generall of the Romane Empire. For the Romaines had this excellency, that when they had a valiaunt and stoute captaine (although they might haue his weighte of gold giuen them) they would neuer depart from his person. He enterprised so great thinges, he ouercame such mighty realmes, and had suche notable victories ouer his enemyes, that the Romaines said he had in him y^e strength of Hercules, the hardinesse of Hector, the noblenes of Alexander, the policye of Pirrus, and the fortune of Scipio. For many of the vaine gentils held opinion, that as the bodyes dyd distribute their goodes in the lyfe: so did the soules parte their giftes after the deathe. This Narsetes was a pitefull captaine, and very constant in the faith of Christ, lyberall to giue almes, effectuous to build new monasteries, and in repairing churches a man very carefull. And truly it was a rare thing. For in great warres (vpon smal occasiōs) captaines vse to beate downe Churches, and that which was greatest of all, was y^e hee serued god deuoutlye, visited the hospitalles, saide his deuocions wyth great teares, and aboue al, resorted very oft to the churche in the night, And this excellency was no lesse then the other. For that captaynes in suche an houre, are readier to kyll men in their campe then to be waile their sinnes in the church. Fynally he was a christian and so deuoute, that god gaue hym the victories more through the praiers which he vsed, than through the weapons wherwith he sought. For there was neuer man that sawe him shedde y^e bloud of his enemyes in bataile, before he had shedde the teares of his eyes in the temple. And to the end Christian princes and captaynes may see how muche better it is▪ to pacifye god by teares and prayers, then to haue their campe ful of souldiours and riches, of many of his doinges I wyll declare part as here foloweth.

Iustinian the Emperour being in Alexandrye, Totila king of the Gothes, dyd many mischeues and great domages through out all Italy, so that the Ro­maines durst not go by the way, nor could be in safegard in their houses. For the Gothes in the day kept the wayes, and in the night robbed and spoyled all the people, wherfore Iustinian the Emperour not knowinge the matter, sent the noble Narsetes as captaine generall against the Gothes, who beinge arryued in Italye immediatly confedered with the Lumbardes, the which at that tyme had their mansion in Hungarie, and sente his messangers to kyng Alboinus, (at that tyme their king) for ayde against the Gothes, and in so doinge he saide he should see howe faithfull a frende he would be to hys frendes: and how cruell an ennemy to his ennemyes. Alboinus hearinge the message of Narsetes was very glad, and without delay immediatlly armed a great & puisant army, which by the Adriaticale sea came into Italy: so y^t the answere and the offer came both at one time with effect, and so together ar­riued in one daye (for the succour of Narsetes) the 2. armies: y^t is to say, that of the Romaines and of the Lumbards, the which assembled al in one & mar­ched vnder the banner of their captaine Narsetes. Wherfore Totila, king of the Gothes being aduertised, (as one that had not proued the happie fortune of Narsetes, nor the force of the Lumbardes) sent to offer them y^e battayle, which was giuen in the fieldes of Aquileia: and it was of bothe partes so fierse and cruel, that infinyte were they that dyed: but in the end Totilla kynge of [Page 21] the Gothes was ouercome, and neyther he nor any of his host escaped aliue. The good captayne Narsetes, after the battaile gaue manye & noble giftes to the Lumbardes, and so with riches and vyctorie, they returned into Hu [...] ­rie towards their king Alboinus. And truly this Narsetes did as he was bound to do. For the frend cannot be recompenced by ryches, when for his frend he putteth his lyfe in ieopardy. When the Lumbardes wer gone, Narsetes caused al the spoyle of his campe to be deuided amongeste his souldyers, and that which belonged vnto him, he gaue it wholy to the poore monasteries: so that by this vyctorie Narsetes gotte triple renowne. That is to wete, very bounti­full in that he gaue to the Lumbardes, charitable in that hee gaue to the poore, and valyant in that he vanquished so puissant enemyes. Dagobert king of Fraunce beyond the alpes, beyng a coragyous younge Prince, and verye desirous of honor (for no other cause but to leaue of him some memory) deter­myned him selfe in parson to passe into Italie, althoughe he had no iuste title therunto. For the hartes puffed vp with pried lytel passe though they warre of an vniust quarrell. His myshape was suche, that the same daye he passed the riuer of Rubico (wher the Romaynes in old time limyted the marches of Italye) newes came to him that his owne countrye was vp, and those which were there, one rebelled against the other, the whiche was not without the greate sufferaunce of God. For it is but reason that that king shoulde loase his owne realme by deuine iustice, which wil take other mens only through mans folly. The kyng Dagobert assembling all the chiefeste of his realme to counsayle, it was agreed and concluded by all, that hee alone in personne should returne into Fraunce, and for his reputacion should leaue all the ar­mye in Italy. Wherof remayned captaines, Buccelinus, and Amingus. For it is better for a prince to defend his country by iustice, then to conquere another by tirāny. As this armie of Buccelinus was great, so was he couragious, and wrought many & great domages in Italie, especiallye in the land of Campag­nia. And worse then that, al the riches y^t he had sacked, & al the captiues he had takē, he wold neyther restore nor yet suffer them to be raunsōmed: but so sone as he toke them he sent theym vnto the king, as one that shewed him selfe more desirous to robbe and spoile, then to fight and wage battaile. This captaine Buccelinus thē being in Campagnia, retired into a place called Tarē ­tum with al his army because of winter, Narsetes sodainly came vpon him & gaue him battaile, That was betwene theym very cruell, wherin Buccelinus was vanquyshed and left deade in the field, amongest the other captaynes of the Gaules. Which newes brought to Amingus eares being the other cap­taine of y^e Gaules, And seing his companion dead, he confedered with Auidinus captaine of the Gothes, & they together came against the Romaines (which thing was not vnknowen vnto Narsetes) to giue the battaile, neare to Gaietto wheras those captaines were conquered and taken alyue. Of whom Amin­gus was beheaded by the comaundemēt of Narsetes: and Auidinus was sent by him prisoner to the emperoure to Constantinople. The captaine Narsetes wanne another battaile against Syndual, king of Brytons, which came into Italye with a huge multitude of people to recouer the Realme of Partinopolis, which now we call Naples, for he sayde it apperteyned vnto him of righte, as to one of the lynage of Hercules, who in aunciente tyme was kynge of [Page] that Realme. This king Synduall within a while became frend vnto Narsetes, and behaued him selfe outwardly as a frend and confederate: but in secrete, conspired against the Romaines, and would haue bene king of the Romay­nes, and rained alone in Italye: through the whiche there sprange betwene hym and Narsetes cruell warres, wherin fortune was a long time variable. For ther is not so aduenturous a captaine, to whom in long warres fortune is alwayes prosperous. Finally the king Syndual and Narsetes, agred to hasard their men, and also their liues in one day vnto the discrecion of fortune, soo that both the armies ioyned together, and fought betwene Verona, & Trento, wher king Syndual was conquered, and taken aliue, and the same day with­out any delay was hanged openly. And because that Narsetes was not accus­tomed to vse such cruelty against those that were ouercome, & especially a­gainst kings and worthie Knightes, he commaunded his title to be set on the gibbet, wheron the kinge hanged, which said this.

Such and many other battailes and victories had this aduenturous and good captaine, not only in the borders of Italye, but also in Asia, where for many yeres he had the gouernement of the country. And as he was a good christian, so almighty god in all his affaires did prosper him. After all these warres past, Iustinian the younger sent him to the kyngdome of constanti­nople, to be chiefe gouernour of al those prouinces, and although he dyd wel in warlike affaires: yet he did much better in the administracion of the com­mon wealth. For men that are accustomed to trauaile in warres, haue a good lerning howe to gouerne the people in peace. For this occasion (amon­gest all mortall men) Narsetes was praysed and estemed, that is, for his valy­auntnes in the batailes which he ouercame, for his riches through the spoy­les that he toke, and for the iustice he ministred to all men where he ruled. Narsetes because he was a Gretian borne was enuied of y^e Romaines, & chiefly because he dayly encreased both his honour and riches. For truly vertue, ho­nour, & riches in a mā, are but a brond to light enuy to al y^e world. And thus was the case. One daye ther came many noble Romaines to the emperour Iustinian, & to the Empresse Sophia Augusta, to complaine of Narsetes, and of his behauiour & gouerning, & said these words vnto them. We let you to wete, most noble prince, & soueraigne lady, y^t we had rather (of y^e two) to serue the Gothes, then to obey the Greekes: & we speake this, because that the Eunuch comaunded vs more to his owne seruice, then hee dooth to y^t of yours, and the worst is that you know it not, & if you know it, at the lest you do not re­medie it. Chose therfore one of these two things, whether you wil deliuer vs frō y^e gouernment of the greke, or suffer y^t we put Rome & our selues into y^e hands of the Gothes. For it is lesse griefe for y^e Romaines, to be subiect to a puisant king: then to an effeminate Eunuch, & a tiraunt Narsetes being present, hearing these quarelles) as they say) said thus. O noble prince, if I haue com­mitted any euil, it is vnpossible for me to find one that wil do me good: but if I haue done wel, no man shalbe able to do me wrōg. The empresse Sophia [Page 22] of long time before had hated Narsetes, some saide it was because he was an Eunuch, other thinke it was because he was rich, & some other iudge because he was in greater authoritie in the empire then shee. Wherfore perceuing she had good occasion, & oportunitie for y^e same, she spake a word much to his re­proche: which was this. Sith thou art an Eunuch Narsetes, & not a man, it is not fit for the to haue a mans office: therfore, I cōmaund the to worke with my handmaidens, and ther thou shalt serue to spin and weaue clothes, Nar­setes toke this word heauily, & truly it was w^t great spight spoken. Wherfore he stoutly & couragiously spake vnto the Empresse Sophia these words, & said: I had rather (most excellent Princesse) thou haddest chastised me as a noble dame, then to haue reproued me w^t a word as a simple womā: but since it is so that you haue liberty & authoritie to comaund me, know you also, that I haue y^e selfe same to obey you, and therfore I take my leaue, & now I go to weaue my webbe which perhappes your self whilest you liue, shal neuer vn­twine. Narsetes immediatly went his way & came into Italye, into the citye of Naples (chiefe and head of Campagnia) and from thense he depeached his im­bassadours immediatly to the king of Hungarie (wher the Lumbardes at y^e time had their mansion place) coūsailing them to forsake that land, so euyl tilled, so barren, cold and litle, & that they shold come & enhabite Italye, which was a plaine countrie, fartile & ample, temperat & very riche, and that now or neuer they should conquere it. And Narsetes therwith not contented (but to prouoke his frends the more, & make them the more couetous) sente theym part of euery good thing y^t was in Italy, that is to wete, lyght horses, riche armour, swete pleasant & dainty fruits, fine mettailes, & many kinds of oyntments very odiferous, silkes & marchaūdises of many & diuers sortes. The embassadors ariued in Panony (which now is called Hungarie) were honora­bly receiued, & the Lumbardes seing that ther wer suche, & so many goodly things in Italie, determined to leaue Pannonia, & go spoile & conquere Italy, al­though it belōged to Rome, & were at y^e season frends with the Romaines, yet notwithstanding they had litle respect to this. And hereat no man ought to merueile, for in y^e place ther is neuer perfite frendshippe, wher he that com­maundeth is cōstrained to demaund helpe of others. The Lumbards deter­mined to passe into Italy: & at y^e time ther was sene of the Italians visibly in y^e ayer, sondry armies of fire, the one cruelly killing the other. Whiche thinges greatly feared the hartes of the people. For by this they knew that with in a short space, much of their bloud & of their enemies also should be shed. For it is an old auncient custome, y^t when any great matter doth chaunce to anye Realme, first y^e planetes & elements do declare y^e same by secret tokens. The ingratitude of y^e Emperour Iustinian against Narsetes his captaine, & the euyll words which Sophia spake vnto him, wer thoccasiō that the Lumbardes in­uaded, & destroyed al Italy. which thing valiant Princes ought wel to note, to kepe them selues from ingratitude towards their seruauntes, who hath don them great seruice, For it is a general rule, y^t the ingratitude of a great benefit, maketh y^e seruaunts dispaire of recompence, or of a faithfull seruaunt, maketh him become a cruel & mortal enemy. And let not Princes trust men, because they be natife of their realmes, brought vp & nourished in their pala­ces, & alwaies haue bene faithful in their seruices, that therfore they wil not [Page] of good subiectes be turned to euill, nor yet of faithful become disloyall. For suche imaginacion is vaine. For the Prince that in his doings is vnthanke­full, cannot keape nor reteyne anye honest man longe in his seruice. One thynge the noble Iustinian did with Narsetes, whereof all noble and sage Princes ought to beware, that is to know, he did not onely giue eare vnto his enemyes and beleued them: but also before them he did dishonour hym, and shame him to his power, whiche thinge made him vtterly to dispaire.

For there is nothing that spiteth a man more, then to haue before hys ene­mies any iniurie or dishonoure done vnto him of his superiour. The empresse Sophia therfore deserued great reproche for speakinge suche dishonest wor­des to Narsetes, to send him to thread the nedels in that occupacion where the damsels wrought. For it is the duty of a noble princesse, to mitigate the ire of Princes when they are angry and not to prouoke them further to anger. Narsetes then alwaies dowting y^e empresse Sophia, neuer after retourned into Naples where she was, but rather came from Naples to Rome, a yeare before the Lumbardes came into Italy: where he receiued all the sacramentes, and like a deuout Christiā dyed. His body was caried to Alexandria in a coffine of siluer al sette with precious stones, and ther was buried. And a man cannot tel whither the displeasour were greater that all Asia had not to see Narsetes aliue, or the pleasour that Sophia had to see him deade. For the vnpacient hart (especially of a woman) hath no rest, vntill she see her enemye dead.

¶Of a letter the Emperour Marcus Aurelius sente to the Kynge of Scicile, in which he recordeth the trauailes they endured togethers in their youth, and reproueth him of his small reuerence towardes the temples. Chapter xvii.

MArcus Aurelius sole Emperour of Rome, borne in moūte Celio, called the old tribune, wisheth health and long lyfe to the Gorbin, Lord & kynge of Sicile. As it is the custome of the Romaine Emperoures, the firste yeare of my reigne I wrate generallye to all that Ile: the seconde yeare I wrate generallye vnto thy courte and palace, and at this presente I write more particulerlye to thy parsone. And although that Princes haue greate Realmes, yet they ought not therfore to cease to cōmunicate with their old frendes. Since I toke my penne to write vnto the, I stayed my hande a great while from writing, and it was not for that I was slouthfull, but be­cause I was a shamed to see all Rome offended with the. I let the to we [...]e (most excellent prince) that in this I say I am thy true frend, for in my hart I fele thy trouble and so sayd Euripides, that whiche with the harte is loued, with the hart is lamented. But before I shew thee the cause of my writing, I will reduce into thy memory some thinges past of our youth, and therby we shall see what we were then, and what we are now: for no man dothe so muche reioyce of his prosperitie present, as he whiche calleth to minde his miseries past. Thou shalt call to minde (most excellent Prince) that we two togethers did learne to reade in Capua, and after we studyed a litle in Taren­tum: and from thense we went to Rhodes, where I redde Rhethorike, and thou hardest philosophie. And afterwardes in the ende of x. yeres, we went to the warres of Pannonia, where I gaue my selfe to musike: for the affectiōs of yong men is so variable, that daily they would know straunge realmes, [Page 23] and chaunge offices. And in all those iourneis, with the forse of youth, the swete company, with the pleasaunte communicacion of sciences, and with a vaine hope we did dissemble our extreme pouerty, which was so great, that many times and ofte we desired not that whiche manye had, but that litle which to few abounded. Doest thou remember, that when we sayled by the goulfe Arpin to goe into Helesponte, a long and tempestuous torment came vpon vs, wherin we were taken of a pirate, and for our raunsome he made vs rowe about .ix. monethes in a gally, wheras I cannot tell whiche was greater, either the wante of bread, or the abundaunce of stripes whiche we alwaies endured? Hast thou forgotten also that in the citie of Rhodes, when we were beseged of Bruerdus, puissaunt kyng of Epirotes, for the space of four­tene monethes, we were tenne withoute eatyng fleshe, saue onely .ii. cattes, the one whiche we stole, and the other whiche we bought? remember that thou and I (being in Tarent) were desired of our host to go to the feast of the great goddesse Diana: into the whiche temple none coulde enter that day, but those which were new apparelled. And to say the trouthe, we determined not to go thither: thou because thy garmentes were torne, and I because my shoes were broken: and that bothe the tymes we were sicke in Capua, they neuer cured vs by dyet: for our dyseases neuer proceded of excesse but of extreame hunger. An often times Retropus y^e phisician, for his pleasour spake to vs in the vniuersitie and sayd. Alas children, you dye not through surfe­ting and muche eatinge. And truly he sayde trouth, for the contrey was so dere, and our mony so scarse, that we did neuer eate vntyl the time we could endure no lenger for famine. Dost thou not remember the great famine that was in Capua, for the which cause we were in the warre of Alexandria, wher­in my fleshe dyd tremble, remembring the great perilles whiche we passed in the goulfe of Theberynthe. What snowes all wynter, what extreme heate all sommer, what general famine in the fieldes, what outragious pestilence a­mongest the people, and worste of all, what persecution of straungers, and what euill will we had of ours? remember also that in the citie of Naples, when we made our prayer to the profetesse Flauia, she told vs what shoulde become of vs, after we lefte our studies She tolde me that I should be an Emperour, and sayde that thou shouldest be a kynge.

To the whiche aunswere we gaue suche credite, that we toke it not one­lye for a mocke: but also for a manifest iniurye. And nowe I doe not mer­ueile, in that then we bothe marueled wonderfull muche. For enuyous for­tune practised her power more in pluckyng downe the ryche, then in set­ting vp the poore. Beholde (excellente Prince) the greate power of the god­desse, the whele of fortune, & the variety of times: who would haue thought when I hadde my handes all rough and scuruy with rowing in the galley, that betwene those handes the scepter of the Romayne Empire should haue ben put? who would haue thoughte when I was so sicke for lacke of meat, I should euer haue surfited by to muche eating: who would haue thought when I could not be satisfied with cattes fleshe, that I shoulde haue then glutted with to moch dainty meates? who wold haue thought at that time when I left going into the temple because my shoes were broken, that ano­ther tyme should come when I shoulde ryde triumphyng in chariotes, and [Page] vppon the shoulders of other menne? who woulde haue thought that that which with my eares I hard of the prophetesse in Campagnia, I should see here with my eyes in Rome. O how many dyd hope (at the time we were in Asia) to be gouernours of Rome, and lords of Sicille, which not only fayled of the honour that they desired, but also obtayned the death which they neuer feared? for oftentimes it chaunceth to ambitious men, that in their greatest ruffe, and when they thinke their honoure sponne and wouen, then their estate with the webbe of their lyfe in one moment is broken. If at that time one had demaunded the Tiraunt Laodicius (aspiring to the kingdome of Sicil­le) & Ruphus Caluus who loked to be Emperour of Rome, what they thought of them selues: assuredly they wolde haue sworne their hope to haue bene as certaine, as ours was doubtful. For it is naturall to proude men, to delight them selues, and to set their hole mynd vpon vaine deuises. It is a straunge thing and worthy memory, that they hauing the honour in their eyes fayled of it, & we not thinking therof in our harts should obtaine it. But herein for­tune shewed her mighte, that she prouided hope for those whiche loked for least: and dispaire for others that hoped for most: which thing greaued them at the very hart. For no pacience can endure to se a man obtaine that with­out trauaile, which he could neuer compasse by much laboure. I cannot tell if I should say lyke a simple Romaine, that those thinges consist in fortune: or if I should say like a good philosopher, that all the gods do ordeine them. For in the ende, no fortune nor chaunce can do any thing without the gods assent. Let the proude and enuious trauaile asmuche as they will, and the ambicious take asmuch care as they can, I say and affirme, that lytle auay­leth humaine dilygence to attaine to great estates, if the gods be their enne­myes Suppose that euil fortune do ordeine it, or that the god and gods do suffer it, I see those which haue their thoughtes highe, oftentimes are but of base estate: and so in fine to come to mischiefe or extreme pouertie, and those that haue their thoughtes low, are humble of hart, and for the more part are greatly exalted by fortune. For many oftentimes dreame that they are lords, and men of great estate, which when they are awake, fynd them selues sla­ues to all men. The condicion of honor is such, as I neuer read the lyke: and therfore such as haue to do with her, ought to take good hede. For her condi­tions are such, she enquireth for him whom she neuer saw, & she renneth af­ter him that flyeth from her, she honoreth him that estemeth her not, and she demaundeth him which willeth her not, she geueth to hym that requyreth her not, & she trusteth him whom she knoweth not. Finally honor hath this custome, to forsake him that estemeth her: and to remaine with him whych litle regardeth her. The curious trauellers aske not what place this or that is, but do demaund what way they must take to lead them to the place they goe. I meane, that princes & noble men ought not directly to cast their eyes vpon honour: but in the way of vertue, which bringeth them to honour. For dayly we se many remaine defamed, only for seking honour: and others also exalted and extemed for flying from her. O myserable world, thou knowest I know the wel, and y^t which I know of the is: that thou art a sepulcher of y^e dead, a pryson of the lyuyng, a shop of vyces, a hangeman of vertues, obliui­on of antiquitye, an enemye of thinges presente, a pitfall to the riche, and a [Page 24] burden to the poore, a house of pilgrames, and a denne of theues. Finally O world, thou art a sclaunderer of the good, a rauenour of the wicked, and a deceuer and abuser of al, and in the O world, to speake the truth, it is almost impossible to liue contented, and muche lesse to lyue in honour. For if thou wilt geue honor to y^e good, they thnke them selues dishonored, & esteme thy honour as a thing of mockerie. And if perchaunce they be euyl & light, thou suffrest them to come to honour by way of mockery, meaning infamy and dishonour vnto them. O immortal gods, I am oftentimes troubled in my thought whose case I should more lament, eyther y^e euyl man auaunced w^t out deserte, or the good mā ouerthrowen without cause. And trulye in this case, the pitiful man wil haue compassiō on them both. For if the euil liue, he is sure to fal: and if the good fal, we doubt whether euer he shall rise againe. If al falles were alike, al woulde be healed and cured with one salue: but some fal on their feete, some on their sides, others stumble and fall not, and other fal downe right, but some do giue them a hād. I meane some ther are which fal from their estate, & loase no more but their substaunce: others fal, and for very sorow loase not onely their goodes, but their life with all. O­ther ther are that fal, who neither loase their life nor goodes, but their honor onely. So according to the discreciō of fortune, the more they haue, y^e more stil he taketh from them, and I greatly muse why the gods do neuer reme­dy it, for whē fortune once beginneth to ouerthrow a poore mā, she doth not only take al he hath from hym, but all those which may & wil succoure him.

So that the poore man is bound more to lament for another mans euil: then for his owne proper. There is a great dyfference betwene the mishap­pes of the good, and aduentures of the euill. For of the ill we cannot saye that he discendeth, but that he falleth: and of the good we may only say that he discendeth and falleth not. For in the end, the true honour doth not consist in the perfection and dignity that a man hath, but in the good life that he leadeth, It is a miserie to se the vaine men of this worlde, when they go a­bout to get any thing, and to compasse any great matter of importaunce, to marke their earely rysing in a morning, their late going to bed at night, and the loke which they cast vpon other men, to note howe importunate they are to some, and how troublesome they are to others, and afterward (not­withstandinge their longe sute and great paine) an other man whiche lyttle thought thereof, commeth to that honour reioysing and without trauaile: which he before by so greate paines, and with soo greate expenses of money hath sought: so that in seeking honour by trauaile, he commeth to infamye with shame. For I my selfe haue sene sondry things lost by negligence, and many moe by to much dilygence.

¶ The Emperour procedeth in his lettter, to admonishe princes to be feareful of their gods, and of the sentence which the Senate gaue vppon this king: for pulling downe the Churche. Cap. xviii.

AL these things (most excellēt prince) I haue told y^e for none other cause, but to agrauate this case, & to shew y^e peril therof. For the good phisition (to take away y^e bytternes of y^e pille) ministreth some swete suger, to delight the pacient withal. The xx. day of y^e moneth of Ianuary (here before y^e Senate) was presēted a long & large informaciō of y^e, & it was sent by y^e Consul, which went to visite that Ile of Cicillia, which (as thou knowest) is an old order of [Page] Rome, from thre monethes to thre monethes, to visite all the lande & coun­trey subiecte to the same. For those princes are vniust, which haue more care to take vp their rentes, then dyligence to know if their people be well orde­red by iustice. Of the informacion taken of the and thy personne (if my me­mory deceyue me not) this was the effect, that thou art temperate in eating, moderate in expenses, pitiefull to widowes, father to orphanes, gentle to those that serue the, pacient with those that offende the, dilygent to kepe and maintaine peace, and faithfull to obserue league, and thou art accused one­lye to be negligent in the seruice of God.

By one litle gate left open, oftētimes a great Citie besieged is lost: by one on­lye treason, the infinite seruices past are not estemed. I meane (most excellent prince) that it litle preuayleth to thinke much of worldly matters, and to for­get all deuine seruices. For the good Prince ought first to shut the gates a­gainst vices, that they enter not into his subiectes: before he doth fortifye the walles against his enemyes. Let euery man be as he wil, & say what he list, I for my part thinke it sure, that the man whiche is not a studious seruer of the goddes, all his vertues shalbe turned into vyces, and estemed as sclaunders.

For it is a general rule in hye Philosophie, that a worke is not called ver­tuous, because I worke it only, but it is vertuous because it is acceptable to the gods.

O excellent prince, dost not thou know that ther is no man so wise, ney­ther so sage, but erreth more through ignoraunce, than he doth good by wise­dome? And dost not thou know that there is no man so iuste, but wanteth much to execute true iustice? And finally I say that ther is no vertue so ver­tuous, but it wanteth more then it hath to be parfite. Wherfore al our iustice ought to be made perfite to the deuine iustice: and the vertue which we lack, ought to be supplied vnder the great perfection wherwith the gods abound. Amonges vs Romaines we haue this law, (which is the chiefe of al the phi­sophers) that here amongest mortal men, nor of mortall men, nor with mor­tall men any thinge is perfyte, vnlesse it be by the Gods confirmed. Synce men are feeble & frayle, it can not be chosen but they should commyt many frayleties. And in such case, the sage Princes ought and should beare with all the frayleties that men commyt, those excepted whych are not iniurious to the gods, whom (if it were possible) vnwares ought to be punyshed.

For the Prynce should not be called a Prince but a Tyraunt, that is desi­rous to reuenge his owne iniurye, and in chasteninge those whiche are a­gaynste the gods sheweth him selfe negligente.

Let them thinke what they lyste, and complaine what they wyll, that Prynce which wyll enlarge his dominious, and gyue occasion that the ser­uice of God be diminished, such a man we wyll not call a king that gouer­neth, but a Tyraunte. If we call him a Tyraunte that spoileth the people, sleeth the men, persecuteth the innocente, dishonoureth virginnes, and rob­beth realmes: Tell me excellent Prynce, what lacketh he of a Tyraunt, that plucketh downe Churches, and lytle estemeth the gods? There is no token more manyfest that the Prynce is a tyraunt, then when he taketh vpō hym any thynge whych is contrary to the wyl of the gods.

[Page 25]For he hath small regarde towardes menne, that so litle feareth the Gods. Licurgus the famous kyng of the Lacedemonians saieth in one of his auncient lawes these wordes. We ordeyne and commaunde, that no Lacedemonian presume to receiue mercie or fauoure of the Prince, whiche wyll not enforce hym selfe to serue the Gods. For he is not onely euill, but of all other moste wicked. O excellent kyng, O glorious world, O fortunate realme, wher­in those auncientes woulde their Prince shoulde be so iuste, that the giftes were not estemed, vnlesse their lyues were honeste: for they thoughte that of no value, whiche by the handes of euill men was geuen. Thou haste done one thyng very dishoneste (moste noble Prince) the whiche to wryte vnto thee I am ashamed, whiche is: for to enlarge thy newe palace, thou hast plucked downe an olde Temple, the which thing thou shouldest neither haue done nor yet haue thought. For in the ende, though the stones of the temple be of small importaunce, yet the Gods to whome they were dedica­ted were of muche value. Pardon me (excellent Prince) though I let thee vnderstande that this fact hath bene done in such sorte, that thereby I was amazed, and all Rome also offended, the sacret Senate thou haste greately vexed, and further all iudge thee a dissolute man, and all men procure that thou mayste be extremely punished, and hereof maruayle not. For in Rome they beleue that the Prince whiche dare plucke downe temples, doth lytle feare the Gods. For that thou art a noble Prince, and an olde friend of mine, I haue trauailed to brynge thee in fauoure with the Senate, and because thou haste no meanes to excuse thy errour committed: they doe not deter­mine to forgyue thee this faulte, before they see in thee a token of amende­ment. And of truthe me thinketh they haue reason. For there is nothynge that troubleth poore men more, than to see that they and not the ryche for their offences are chastised and punyshed. That whiche the sacred Senate hath ordeyned is, that forthwith thou beginne to buylde the temple a new, and that it should be more large, hye, beautifull, and rycher, then euer it was. So that thou take as muche of thy pallace to enlarge the temple, as thou to­kest of the temple to beautifie thy pallace. After thou haste perfourmed this, though nowe thou thynke thy selfe halfe dishonoured, thou wylte than thynke thy selfe very happy. For not thou of the Gods but the Gods of thee shall haue taken thy house to make their temple. I beleue well it will bee greate coste and charges vnto thee before thou haste finished the temple. Wherefore I sende thee fourty thousande sexterces to healpe thy buylding, and to the ende it shoulde be more secrete, I sende thee them by my Secre­tary Panuntius, to whome, in all, and for all, thou shalt gyue credite. I sende the lykewyse a coller of golde, whiche one broughte me from the ryuer of Nyle, and because it was to narow for me, I suppose: it wyl be fytte for the.

One hath brought me moyles out of Spayne, wherof I sende the .2. Panun­tius my secretary bringeth with hym a very good moyse, the whyche he este­meth much: So that theris no man that can eyther by her or borow her. I delyght in her so much, that I desyre thou cause her eyther to be boughte, or stolen, and sent vnto me here in Rome. My wyfe Faustine saluteth the, and to the excellent queene thy wyfe, of her part & myne as muche as is possible doe our commendacions, and these Popingeys, Faustine presenteth vnto her. [Page] Marcus the Romaine Emperour wryteth to thee with his owne hande.

¶Howe the Gentils honoured those whiche were deuout in the seruice of the Gods. Cap. xix.

THE auncient Romayne historiographers agree, that at the beginninge there were seuen kynges, whiche gouerned Rome for the space of .xxiiii. yeares. The seconde whereof was named Pompilius, who amongest all the other was moste highly estemed, for none other cause, but for that he was a great worshipper of the Gods, and a sumptuous builder of the tem­ples. For the Romaine princes were as much beloued for seruing the gods, as they were honoured for vanquishing their enemies. This man was of suche sorte, that he allowed Rome wholy for the Gods, and made a house for him selfe without the citie. For it was an auncient lawe in Rome, that no man should be so bolde to dwell in any house consecrated for the Gods. The fifte kyng of the Romaines was Tarquinius Priscus. And as Tarquinius Superbus was vitious and abhorred of the people, so was this vertuous and welbeloued of the gods: and was greatlye praysed in al his doynges be­cause he feared God, and continually visited the temples, and not contented with those whiche were finished but buylte also in the highe Capitoll the sa­cred temple of Iupiter. For that no Prince could buylde any house in Rome for hym selfe, vnlesse firste he made a temple for the Gods, of the common wealth. This temple was had in so greate reuerence, that as the Romaines honoured Iupiter for the God aboue all other Gods, so was that temple e­stemed aboue al other temples. In the warres betwene the Falisques and the Carpenates, two Romaine captaines were vanquished, of the whiche the one named Gemetius died: whereupon rose suche a great feare among them, that many flyeng from the warres, came backe agayne to Rome. For the victo­rious hath alwayes this priuiledge, that thoughe they be fewe, yet they are alwayes feared of them that be ouercome. This occasion moued the Ro­maines to chose newe captaines, and truly they did lyke wyse men. For of­tentimes it happeneth by alteringe the captaines of the warres, fortune likewyse chaungeth her doinges. And the captayne that was elected for the warres, was Marcus Furius Camillus, who though he were stoute and hardy, yet before he went to the warres he offered great sacrifices to the Gods, and made a vowe that if he returned to Rome victorious, he would buylde a so­lempne temple. For it was the custome in Rome, that immediatly when the Romaine captaine would enterpryse to doe any notable thinge, he shoulde make a vowe to buylde temples. Nowe when Camillus retourned after­wardes victorious, he did not onely buylde a temple, but also furnished it with all maner of implementes thereunto belongyng, whiche he gotte by spoyle, and vanquishing his enemies. And sithe he was for this reprehendid of some, saying that the Romaine captaines shoulde offer their hartes to the Gods, and deuide the treasours among the Souldiours, he answered these wordes. I like a mā did aske the gods but one triumphe: and they like gods gaue me many. Therfore considering this, it is but iust sithe I was briefe in promysinge, that I shoulde be large in perfourminge. For euen as I did thanke thē for that they gaue me double, in respect of that I demaunded: so likewise shal thei esteme y^t which I do giue, in respect of y^t which I promised. [Page 26] At that time when the cruel warre was betwixt Rome & the citie of Neye, the Romains kept it besieged fiue yeres togethers, & in thend by policy toke it. For it chaunseth sondry times in warre, that that citie in shorte time by pollycy is won, which by great strength a long time hath bene defended. Marcus Furius dictatour of Rome, & at that time captaine, commaunded a proclamation to be had through his hoste, that incontinently after the citie was taken, none should be so hardy as to kyll any of the citezens, but those which were found armed. Which thing y^e enemies vnderstanding, vnarmed them selues all & so escaped. And truly this example was worthy of noting. For as the captaines ought to shew them selues fierce, & cruell at the beginning: so after the victory had of their enemies, they should shewe them selues meke & pitifull. This dictatour Camillus, for an other thing he did, was much cōmen­ded aboue the residue. That is to wete, he did not only not consent to robbe the temples, nor dishonour the gods: but he him selfe with great reuerence, toke the sacred vessels of the temples, & the gods which wer therin, (especially the goddesse Iuno) & brought thē al to Rome. For amongest the aunciētes there was a law, that the gods of them which were vanquished, shoulde not come by lot to the captaines being conquerours. Therefore he made in the mount Auentino a sumptuous tēple, wherin he placed al the gods togethers, with all the other holy reliques which he wan. For the greater triumphe the Romains had ouer their enemies, so much y^e better they hādled the gods of y^e people vanquished. Also you ought to know, that the Romains after many victories, determined to make a crowne of gold very great and ryche, and to offer it to the god Apollo. But sithe the common treasour was poore because there was but litle siluer, & lesse gold to make that crown: the Romaine ma­trons defaced their Iewels & ouches of gold & siluer to make y^e crown with all. For in Rome there neuer wanted money (if it were demaunded) for the seruice of gods, to repaire temples, or to redeme captiues. The Senate este­med the well willing hartes of these women in such sort, that they graunted them thre thinges: that is to wete, to weare on their heads garlandes of flo­wers, to go in chariottes to the common places, & to go openly to the feastes of the gods. For the aunciēt Romains were so honest, that they neuer ware gold on their heads, neither went thei at any time to the feastes vncouered. A man ought not to maruaile, that the Romaines graunted such priuileges vnto the auncient matrones of Rome. For they vsed neuer to be obliuious of any benefite receyued, but rather gentill, with thankes and rewardes to recompence the same. An other notable thing chaunsed in Rome, which was that the Romains sent two tribunes, the which were called Caulius & Sergius, into the Ile of Delphos with great presentes, to offer vnto y^e god Apollo. For as Titus Liuius saith, Rome yerely sent a present vnto the god Apollo, & Apollo gaue vnto the Romaines counsaile. And as the Tribunes went out of the way, they fell into the handes of pirats & rouers on the sea, which toke them with their treasours, and brought them to the citie of Liparie. But the citi­zens vnderstanding that those presentes were cōsecrated to the god Apollo, did not onely deliuer them all their treasure againe: but also gaue thē much more, and guydes therwith to conduicte them safely (both going and com­ming) from all perill and daunger. The Romaines being aduertised of their [Page] gentlenes by the messengers, which were come safe & aliue, did so muche reioyce, that they ordeined in Rome, that the nobles of Liparie shuld be made Senatours of Rome, & all the others shoulde be confederate & of aliaunce vnto thē. And they caused further that two priestes of Lipari should always remain in the temple of Iupiter, whiche priuilege was neuer graunted to any other straungers but to them only. For the Romaines had so great zeale, & loue to their gods, that in the seruices of the temples they trusted none, but those which were natiue & auncient of Rome, and also were both wyse and vertuous. When Quintus Fabius & Publius Decius, were in the warres against the Samnites & Toscanes, and likewyse against the Vmbres, many marueilous & terrible signes were sene in Rome, which thinges did not onely feare those that sawe them, but also those which heard of thē. Vpon which occasion the Romaines and the Romaine matrones (both night and daye) offered great sacrifices to the gods. For they saide, if we can once pacifie the wrath of the gods in Rome, we shall neuer neade to feare our enemies in the fielde. The thing was this, that as the Romaine matrones went visiting the temples, to appease the ire of the gods, many Senatours wyues came to the temple of chastitie to offer sacrifice. For in the time of the puissant power of the Ro­maines, the women did sacrifice in the temples of the gods. At that tyme came Virginea, the daughter of Aureus Virgineus, the Consul Plebeian, the which was forbiddē to do sacrifice, for that she was none of the Senatours wiues but a Plebeian, as much to saie as a craftes womā, & no gentilmans daugh­ter borne. For the noble women were had in so great veneration, & so highly estemed, that al the other semed (in respect of thē) but handmaides, & sclaues. The noble Romaine Virginea, seing her to be so repulsed & disdained of the o­ther matrons, made of her own propre house a sēple to the goddesse of cha­stitie, and with much deuotion & reuerence honoured her. The whiche thing being published abroade throughout Rome, many other women came thi­ther to doe sacrifice likewise. For fortune is so variable, that oftentimes those which of pryde haue forbidden vs their houses, come after by humilitie, to serue vs at ours. For this cause this Virginea the foundresse was so greatly praysed, that the Romaines in her life made her patrice (that is a noble Ro­maine) and after her death caused her image and statue to be made and set vp in the high Capitoll: and aboue this image were grauen certaine Greeke letters, the effecte whereof was this.

Of all these hystories aboue named, Titus Liuius maketh mencion in his first decade, the seconde fift, and ninth booke, & though he declareth thē more at large, yet this shal suffice for my purpose. I haue sought among y^e gentils these few exāples to reproue christiā princes, to thend they might se how stu­dious & feruent our fathers were in the seruice of their Idols: & cōtrariwise how cold & negligēt we are, to honour & serue our true & liuing god. It is a shame to tell how the auncient Romains w^t all their hartes did serue y^e gods without any vnderstanding, & how those which are christiās (for y^e most part) [Page 27] serue the true God, not in truthe, but with hypocrisie and dissimulation. Fo the children of this worlde will take no paynes, but for to prouoke the plea­sures of the body. Many wondred for what occasion God did so muche for them, and they did nothing for God. To this may be aunswered, that if they had knowen one true God, all the sacrifices they hadde done to their other gods, they would haue done to him only: and as God is iust, so he rewarded them in their temporall prosperities, not for that they did well, but for that they desired to doe well. For in our deuine lawe, God doth not regard what we are, but what we desire to be. Christian princes maruayle muche what the occasion should be, that they are not so fortunate as the Gentils were. To this may be answered, that either they be good or euill. If they be good, truly God should do them wrong, if for the paiment of their faithful seruices, he should recompence thē with those worldly vanities. For without doubt one onely louing countenaunce of god in the worlde to come is more worth, then all the temporall goods of this world present. But if these suche great lordes be euil in their personnes, ambitious in gouerning their dominions, not pitifull to wydowes and fatherlesse, not fearfull of god nor of his threat­ninges, and moreouer neuer to haue mynde to serue him, but only when they see them selues in some great ieopardie, in suche case God will not heare them, and muche lesse fauour them. For without doubt the seruice is more acceptable, whiche of free wyll proceadeth: than that whiche of necessitie is offred.

¶For fiue causes princes ought to be better Christians then their subiectes. Cap. xx.

IN myne opinion, Princes ought and are bounde to be vertuous for fiue causes. I saye vertuous, in that they should loue, and feare God. For he onely may be called vertuous, which in the catholique faith of the church, and in the feare of God hath alwayes remayned constant. First, princes should feare, loue, serue, and loue one onely god whom they worshippe, for that thei acknowledge him onely and none other to be the head both of hea­uen and earth. For in the ende there is nothing so puissaunt, but is subiecte to the diuine power. And truly the prince is is great perill of damnation of his soule, if in his gouernemēt he hath not alwayes before his eies, the feare and loue of the supreme prince, to whom we must render of all our doynges an accōpt. For the prince hath great occasion to be vicious, thinking that for the vice he shall not be chastised. I haue redde in diuerse & sundry writinges, and I neuer founde one auncient prince to be contented with one only god, but that they had & serued many gods. Iulius Caesar caried fiue gods painted in a table, and Scipio the great caried seuen portered in mettall. And further­more they were not contented to haue many: but yet in sacrifices, and serui­ces, they offred vnto them all. The Christian princes whiche kepe and haue but one very true and omnipotent god, are so vnthankefull, that they thinke it muche to serue and giue acceptable seruice vnto him. And though perad­uenture some saie, that it is more painefull to serue one true god, then all these false gods, to this I aunswere. That to serue them, it is both trauaile & paine: but to serue our god, it is both ioye and felicitie. For in seruing those, it is costly, and without profite: and in seruing God great profite ensueth. [Page] For those goddes require great and ryche sacrifices, and our God demaun­deth nothinge but pure and cleane hartes. Secondarely princes shoulde be better Christians then others because they haue more to lose then all. And he that hath more to lose then any other, ought aboue al other to serue god. For euen as he alone can gyue hym, so likewise he alone and none other can take from hym. And if a subiecte take any thynge from his neighbour, the prince whom he serueth maketh him render it agayne: but if the Prince be iniuried with any other tyraunte, he hath none to complayne vnto, nor to demaunde helpe of, but onely of his mercifull God. For in the ende, one that is of power can not be hurt, but by an other that is lykewyse mighty. Let princes beholde howe the man that wyl make any great assaulte, first com­meth running afarre of as fast as he can. I meane, that the prynce whiche wyll haue God mercifull vnto him, ought to be content with his onely god. For he in vayne demaundeth helpe of him, to whome before he neuer dyd seruice. Thirdly princes ought to be better Christians then others, and this shalbe seen by that they succoure the poore, prouyde for those that are vnpro­uided, and visite the temples, hospitalles, and churches, and endeuour them selues to heare the diuine seruice, and for all these thinges they shall not onely receiue rewardes, but also they shal receyue honour. For through their good example, others wyll doe the same. Princes not fearinge God, nor his com­maundementes, cause their Realmes and subiectes to fall into great misery. For if the fountayne be infected, it is vnpossible for the streames (that issue therof) to be pure. We see by experience that a brydell maistereth a horse, and a sterne ruleth a shippe. I meane, that a prynce (good or bad) wyll leade after him all the whole Realme. And if he honour God, all the people doe like­wyse, if he serue God, the people also serue him, if he praise God, the subiects also praise him: and if he blaspheme god, they likewise will doe the same. For it is vnpossible y^t a tree should bring forth other leaues or fruites, then those whiche are agreable to the humour that are in the rootes Princes aboue all other creatures haue this preeminence, that if they be good Christians, they shall not onely receiue merite for their owne woorkes, but also for all those whiche others shall do, because they are occasion that the people worke wel. And for the contrarie, they shall not onely be punished for the euill whiche they shall doe: but also for the euill whiche by occasion of their euill exam­ples others shall commit. O ye princes that nowe be aliue, howe greatly do I wyshe that ye should speake with some one of those princes whiche nowe are dead, especially with those that are cōdemned to the eternall firie flames: then ye should see that the greatest tormentes whiche they suffer, are not for the euils that they did commit, but for the euils whiche through their occa­sion were done. For oftentimes princes and prelates sinne more, because they dissemble with others, then for that they do committe them selues O howe circumspect ought princes and great lordes to be in that they speake, and howe diligently ought they to examine that whiche they doe. For they serue not God onely for them selues, but they serue hym also in generallye for their subiectes. And contrariwyse princes are not only punished for their owne offences, but also for the sinnes of their people. For the sheaperd ought greuously to be punished, when by negligence the rauening woulfe deuou­reth [Page 28] the innocent lambe. Fourthly princes ought to be better Christians thē others, because that to God onely they must render accompt of their estates, for as muche as we are sure that god, to whom we must render accompte is iust, so muche the more we should trauaile to be in his fauoure: because whether he finde or not finde in our life any faulte, yet for loue & pities sake he may correcte vs. Men one with another make their accomptes in this life because they are men, and in the ende counte they well or euill all passeth amonges men, because they are men: but what shall the vnhappy Princes do, whiche shall render no accompte but to God onely, who wyll not be de­ceiued with wordes, corrupted with giftes, feared with threatninges, nor aunswered with excuses. Princes haue their Realmes full of cruell iudges, to punishe the frailtie of man: they haue their courtes full of aduocates, to pleade against them that haue offended: they haue their pallaces full of loy­terers, & promoters, that note the offences of other men: they haue throughe all their prouinces auditours, that ouersee the accomptes of their rentes: and besides all this, they haue no remembraunce of the day so streighte, wherein they must render accompte of their wicked life. Me thinkes (since all that whiche princes receiue, commeth from the handes of God) that the greatest parte of the time whiche they spend, should be in the seruice of God, and all their trade in God, and thei ought to render no accompt of their life but vn­to God: then sithe they are gods in thauthoritie whiche they haue ouer tem­porall thinges, they ought to shewe them selues to resemble god more then others by vertues. For that Prince is more to be magnified, whiche refor­meth two vices among his people: then he which conquereth .x. realmes of his enemies. But we will desire them from henceforth they presume not a­ny more to be gods on the earth, but that they endeuour them selues to be good Christians in the common wealth. For all the wealthe of a Prince is, that he be stoute with straungers, and louing to his own subiectes. Fiftly Princes ought to be better Christians then others. For the prosperitie or ad­uersitie that chaunceth vnto them, commeth directly from the handes of god onely, and none other. I haue seen sondry times Princes, whiche haue put their whole hope & confidence in other princes, to be on a sodeine discomfai­ted: and for the contrary, those which haue litle hope in men, and great con­fidence in god, haue alwayes prospered. When man is in his chiefest braue­ry, and trusteth most to mens wisedome, then the secret iudgement of God sonest discomforteth him. I meane, that the confederates & frendes of prin­ces might helpe & succour thē, but god will not suffer them to be holpen nor socoured, to thend they should see that their remedie proceadeth not by mās diligence, but by deuine prouidēce. A prince that hath a realme, doth not suf­fer any thing to be done therin without his aduise: therefore sithe god is of no lesse power in heauen, then princes are on the earth: it is reason that no­thing be done without his cōsent, sins he taketh account of al mēs deades, & as he is the end of al things, so in him, & by him, al thinges haue their begin­ning. O Princes, if you knewe howe small a thing it is to be hated of men, and howe great a comfort to be beloued of god, I sweare that you woulde not speake one worde (although it were in ieste) vnto men, neither woulde you cease night nor day to commende your selues vnto god: for god is more mercifull to succour vs, then we are diligent to call vppon hym.

[Page]For in conclusion, the fauour whiche men can giue you, other men can take from you: but the fauour that god will giue you, no man can resiste it. All those that possesse muche, should vse the company of them whiche can doe muche: and if it be so, I let you princes wete, that all men can not thynke so muche, togethers, as god him selfe is able to doe alone. For the crie of a Lyō is more fearefull then the howling of a woulfe. I confesse that princes and great lordes maye sometimes gayne, and wynnne of them selfes: but I aske them whose fauoure they haue neade of, to preserue and kepe them? we see oftentymes that in a short space many come to great authoritie, the whiche neither mans wisedome suffiseth to gouerne, nor yet mans force to kepe. For the authoritie whiche the Romaines in sixe hundred yeares gayned, fighting against the Eothes: in the space of three yeares they loste. We see dayly by ex­perience, that a man for the gouernement of his owne house onely, nedeth the councell of his friendes, and neighbours: and doe princes & great lordes thinke by their owne heades onely, to rule and gouerne many realmes and dominions?

¶What the Philosopher Byas was: of his constancie whan he lost all his goodes, and of the ten lawes he gaue worthy to bée had in memorie. Cap. xxi.

AMong all nations and sortes of men, whiche auaunt them selues to haue had with them sage men, the Gretians were the chiefest, whiche had and thought it necessary to haue not onely wyse men to reade in their scholes: but also they chose them to be princes in their dominions. For as Plato saith, those whiche gouerned in those daies were Philosophers, or els they sayde and did like Philosophers. And Laertius wryteth, in his second booke De antiquitatibus Grecorum, that the Gretians auaunted them selues muche in this, that they haue had of all estates persons moste notable, that is to wete: seuen women very sage, seuen Queenes very honest, seuen kings very vertuous, seuen Captaines very hardy, seuen cities verie notable, se­uen buildinges very sumptuous, & seuen Philosophers well learned: whiche Philosophers were these that folowe.

The first was Thales Milesius, that inuented the Carde to sayle by.

The seconde was Solon, that gaue the first lawes to the Athenians.

The thirde was Chilo, who was in the Orient for Embassadour of the Athenians.

The fourth was Pittacus Quintilenus, who was not only a philosopher, but also Captaine of the Mitelenes.

The fifth was Cleobolus, that descended frō the auncient linage of Hercules.

The sixte was Periander, that long tyme gouerned the realme of Corinth.

The seuenth was Bias Prieneus, that was prince of the Prieneans.

Therfore as touching Bias, you muste vnderstande that when Romulus reigned at Rome, and Ezechias in Iudea, there was great warres in Grecia be­twene the Metinenses, and the Prieneans: and of these Prieneans, Bias the philoso­pher was prince and Captaine, who because he was sage, read in the vniuer­sitie: and for that he was hardy, was chiefetaine in the warre, and because he was wyse, he was made a Prince, and gouerned the common wealth. And of this no man ought to marueile: for in those dayes the Philosopher that [Page 29] had knowledge but in one thing, was litle estemed in the common wealth. After many contentions had betwene the Met [...]nenses, and Prienenses, a cruell battayle was fought, wherof the philosopher Bias was captaine and had the victorie: and it was the first battayle that euer anye Philosopher gaue in Greece. For the whiche victorie Greece was proude, to see that their Philo­sophers were so aduenturous in warres, and hardy of their handes: as they were profound in their doctrine, and eloquente in their toungues. And by chaunce one brought him a nomber of women and maydens to sell, or if he listed to vse them otherwyse at his pleasure: but this good philosopher did not defile them nor sell them, but caused them to be apparailed, and safely to be conducted to their own natiue countries. And let not this liberalitie that he did be had in litle estimation, to deliuer the captiues, and not to defloure the virgins. For many times it chaunseth, that those whiche are ouercome with the weapons of the conquerours, are conquered with the delightes of them that are ouercome. This deede amongest the Grekes was so highly commended, and likewyse of their enemies so praysed, that immediatly the Metinenses sent Embassadours to demaunde peace of the Prienenses. And they concluded perpetuall peace vpon condition, that they shoulde make for Bias an immortall statue, sith by his handes and also by his vertues, he was the occasion of the peace and ending of the warres betwene them. And trulye they had reason, for he deserueth more prayse which wynneth the hartes of the enemies in his tentes by good example: then he whiche getteth the vic­torie in the fielde by shedding of bloud. The hartes of men are noble, and we see daily, that oftentyme one shal soner ouercome many by good, then many ouercome one by euyll: and also they saye, that the Emperour Seuerus spake these wordes. By goodnes the least slaue in Rome shall leade me tied with a heere whether he wyll: but by euill, the most puissaunt men in the worlde can not moue me out of Italy. For my harte had rather be seruaunt to the good, then Lorde to the euill. Valerius Maximus declareth, that when the citie of Priene was taken by enemies & put to sacke, the wyfe of Bias was slayne, his children taken prysoners, his goodes robbed, the citie beaten downe, and his house set on fire, but Bias escaped safe and went to Athens. In this pytiful case the good philosopher Bias was no whit the sadder but rather sang as he went by the way, and when he perceiued that men marueiled at his mirthe, he spake vnto them these wordes. Those whiche speake of me for wantinge my citie, my wife, and my children, and losing al that I had, truly such know not what fortune meaneth, nor vnderstande what philosophie is. The losse of children and temporall goodes, cannot be called losse, if the life be safe and the renowne remaine vndefiled. Whether this sentence be true or no, let vs profoundly consider, if the iust god suffer that this citie should come into the handes of the cruell tyrauntes, then this prouision is iuste: for there is no thing more conformable vnto iustice, then that those whiche receyue not the doctrine of the Sages, shoulde suffer the cruelties of the Tyrauntes.

Also thoughe my ennemies haue kylled my wyfe, yet I am sure it was not withoute the determynation of the Gods, who after they created her bodye, immediately appoynted the ende of her lyfe.

[Page]Therfore why should I bewayle her death, synce the gods haue lent her life but vntyll this daye? The greate estimation that we haue of this life, cau­seth that death semeth vnto vs sodayne, and that the lyfe vnwares with death is ouertaken: but these are wordes of the children of vanitie, for that by the wyl of the gods, death visiteth vs, and against the wylles of men, lyfe forsaketh vs. Also my chyldren be vertuous philosphers, and albeit they be nowe in the handes of tyrauntes, we oughte not therefore to call them cap­tiues, for a man may not call him a captiue whiche is laden with irons: but him whiche is ouerwhelmed with vices. And although the fire haue burnt my house, yet I knowe not why I ought to be sad, for of truthe it was now olde, and the wynde did blowe downe the tyles, the wormes did waste the woode, and the waters that ran downe perished the walles, and it was old and lyke to fall, and perchaunce would haue done greater displeasure. For most commonly, enuy, malice, and olde houses, sodainely without any war­ning or knocking at the doore assaulteth menne: finally there came the fire whiche quited me of many troubles. First of the trouble that I should haue had in repairing it, secondarely it saued me money in pluckinge it downe, thirdly it preserued me and myne heires from muche coste and many daun­gers. For oftentimes that whiche a man consumeth in repayring an olde house, would with auauntage by hym a newe. Also those whiche saye that for the taking away of my goodes, I lacke the goodes of fortune, such haue no reason so to thinke or saye. For fortune neuer geueth temporall goodes for a proper thing, but to those whome she list, and when she will dispose them: therfore when fortune seeth that those men whome she hath appoin­ted as her distributers, doe hourde vp the same to them and to their heires: then she taketh it from them to geue it to an other. Therefore by reason I should not cōplayne that I haue lost any thing: for fortune recommendeth vnto an other the temporall goodes: but I cary pacience and Philosophie with me, so that they haue discharged me from all other, and haue no more charge but for my selfe alone. Laertius declareth in his fift boke of the sayings of the Gretians. That this Bias determined to goe to the playes of Mounte Olimpus, whereunto resorted people of all nations: and he shewed hym selfe in this place of so highe an vnderstanding, that he was counted supreame and chiefe of all other philosophers, and wonne the name of a true philoso­pher. Other philosophers then beinge in the same playes Olimpicalles, asked him many questions of sondry matters, whereof I wyll make mention here of the chiefest.

¶How god from the beginning punished men by his iustyce, and spe­ciallye those Princes that dispise his Churche, and howe all wicked Christians are parishioners of hell. Cap. xxii.

WHen the eternall creator (who measureth the thinges by his Omnipo­tencye, and wayeth them by his effectuall wisedome) created al things, aswel celestiall as terrestial, vysible as inuisible, corporate as incorporate, not only promised to the good whyche serued him, but also threatened the euyll with plagues whych offended hym. For the iustice and mercy of god go al­wayes together, to thintent the one should encourage the good, and the o­ther threaten the euyl. This thinge semeth to be true: for that we haue but one god, which hath created but one word, wherin he made but one gar­deine, in the whiche garden ther was but one fountaine, and neare to that fountayne he appointed only one man, one woman, and one serpente, nere vnto which was also one tre only forbidden, which is a thinge meruelous to speake, and no lesse feareful to see: how god dyd put into the terrestial pa­radyse (the same daye that the creacion of the worlde was finyshed) booth a sword, and gibet. The gibet was the tree forbidden, wherof they dyd eate: wherfore our fathers were condemned. And y^e sword was the punishment, wherwyth we al (as miserable chyldren) at this day are beheaded. For truly they dyd eate the bytternes of their fault: and we do feele the griefe of the paine. I meane not to shewe howe our God by hys power doothe raise vppe that whyche is beaten downe, howe wyth his wysedome he guideth those which are blind, how by his wyl he dissembleth wyth the euyll doers, neyther wil I tel how he through his clemency pardoneth the offences, and through his light lyghtneth the darknes, nor how through his ryghteousnes he amendeth that whych is broken, and through hys liberality paieth more then we deserue: But I wyll here declare at large, howe our omnipotente [Page 31] God through his iustice chastiseth those whiche walke not in his pathes. O Lorde god howe sure may thy faithfull seruauntes be, for their small serui­ces to receiue great rewardes: and contrary the euill ought alwayes to lyue in as great feare, lest for their heynous offences thou shouldest geue them cruel punishmentes. For though god of his bounty will not leaue any seruice vnrewarded, nor of his iustice will omitte any euill vnpunished: yet for all that we ought to knowe, that aboue all, and more than all, he wil rigorously chastise those, which maliciously despise the holy catholyke faith. For Christe thinketh him selfe as much iniuried of those, whiche persecute his church: as of those that laide handes on his persone, to put him to death. We rede that in times past god shewed sondry greuous and cruel punishmentes, to diuerse high lordes and princes, besides other famous and renowmed men. But ri­gour had neuer such power in his hande, as it had against those whiche ho­noured the infamed Idoll, and violated the sacred temples. For to god this is the most heinous offence, to forsake the holy catholike faith in his life, and to dispaire in his mercy at the houre of his death. Woulde to god we had so much grace to acknowledge our offences, as god hath reason to punishe our sinnes. For if it were so, thē we would amend in time to come, & god would graunt vs a generall pardon for al that is past. I see one thing wherin (as I thinke) I am not deceiued, which is this: that the frailnes & miseries which we commit we thinke them naturall, and in the satisfaction and amende­ment of the same we say they are straunge: so that we admit the fault, & condemne the paine which therby we do deserue. The secret iudgements of god do suffer it, and our offences do deserue it: I do not deny but that the euyll may hold & possesse this life at their pleasour: but I sweare vnto them, when they shal lest thinke of it, they shal lose their life to their great displeasour: for the pleasurs of this life are so vnconstant, that we scarce begin to taste thē, when they vade out of their sight. It is a rule infallible, whiche bothe of the good & euill hath bene proued: that all naturally desire rather to abound than to want: and all that which greatly is desired, with great diligēce is serched, and through great trauaile is obteined: and that thing which by trauaile is attained, with loue is possessed, & that which by loue is possessed, with much sorow is lost, bewailed, & lamented. For in thend we can not deny, but that the watry eies do manifestly shewe the sorowfull hartes. To the fine wittes and stout harts this is a continuall torment, and endlesse paine, & a worme that alway gnaweth: to cal to mind that he must lose the ioyfull life, whiche so entierly he loued: and taste the fearfull death, whiche so greatly he abhor­red. Therfore to proue this matter, which I haue spoken of before, it is but reason that princes know, if they do not know, that euen as the diuine pro­uidence exalteth them to high estates, they not deseruing thē: so likewise his rigorous iustice will bring them to nought, if they be vnthankeful for his be­nefites. For the ingratitude of benefittes receiued, maketh the man not wor­thy to receiue any mo. The more a man through benefits is bound, the more greuous punishment (if he be vnthankefull) he deserueth. Al wyse men shuld finde (if thei apply their mindes therunto) that in chastising god calleth those offences first to his mind, which are furthest from the thoughtes of men. For before the tribunal of god, our secret faultes are alwaies casting out bloud, to thend he should execute of our persons open iustice. And further I saie, y^t [Page] in this case I doe not see that the prince is exempted more, though he liue in great felicitie: than the poore labourer, who liueth in extreme misery. And al­so we see it eftsones by experience, that the sodaine lightning, tempestes and the terrible thonder, forsaketh the small & lowe cotages, & battereth forthwith the great & sumptuous buildinges. Gods wil & determination is, that for as much as he hath exalted them aboue al others, somuch y^e more they should ac­knowledge him for lorde aboue all others: For god did neuer create high e­states because they should worke wickednes: but he placed them in that de­gree, to thend they should therby haue more occasion to do him seruice. Eue­ry prince that is not a good Christian, a feruente louer of the catholike faith, nor will haue any respect to the deuine seruice: let him be assured that in this world he shall loase his renowme, and in the other he shall hazarde his soule. For that all euill Christians are the parishioners of hell.

¶The authour proueth by twelue examples that princes are sharply punished when they vsurpe boldly vpon the churches and violate the tēples. Cap. xxiii.

¶How Valentine the Emperoure because he was an euyll Chrystian, loste in one day both the Empire and his lyfe, and was burned alyue in a shepecote. Cap. xxiiii.

WHen Iulian, the Apostate was Emperour of Rome, he sente to conquere Hongarie, of no iust title hee had to it, more then of Ambicion to vnite it, to the Romaine Empire. For tyrannous princes vse all their force to vsurpe others realmes by crueltye, and lytle regard whether they maye do it by iu­stice. And because the Romaine Empire was of great force, this Ambicious Emperour Iulian, had in that warres a mighty and puysant Armie, which did wonderfull muche harme throughe al the countryes they came. For the fruites of warres is, to bereue the enemyes of lyfe, and to spoyle the men of their goodes. It chaunsed one day as. 5 knyghtes wente out of the campe to make a rode, they found a young man that caried a halter in hys hande, and as they would haue taken it awaye from hym to haue tyed their horses to let them feede, he was so hardy and stout that he defended hym selfe from them all: so that he had more strength alone then they fyue altogethers, The Romayne knyghtes amazed to see this younge man defend hym selfe from [Page 35] them all so stoutly, very instauntly desired him to go to the Romaine campe with them, and they promised him he should haue great interteynment. For the Romaines were so dyligent, that they woulde omit no good thinge for want of money, so that it wer for the publike weale. This yonge man was called Gracian, and was borne and brought vp in the country of Pannonia, in a citie they called Cibata: his lynage was not of the lowest sort of the people, nor yet of the most estemed Citizens, but were men that lyued by the swete of their browes, and in loue of the common people. And truly it is no small benefite that God had made him of a meane estate: for to be of base linage, maketh men to be despised and not regarded: and to come of a noble bloud and high synage, maketh men to be proud and lofty. This yonge man being come into the Romaynes campe, the fame was immediatly spred, how that he alone had vanquished fiue knyghtes. And his strength and courage was so highely estemed, that wythin a while after he was made Pretour of the armie. For the Romaynes, not according to fauour, but according to y^e habi­lytie of men, deuyded the offices and degrees of honoure in warres. Tyme therfore working his nature, and manye estates beinge decayed, after thys yonge Gracian was made Pretour of the armye, and that he was sufficient­ly tryed in the warres, fortune, which many times bringeth that to passe in a day: that mans malyce cannot in many yeres, raised this Gracian to be Em­peroure of Rome. For trulye one hower of good successe is more worthe, thenne al worldly fauour.

This Gracian was not onlye singuler in strengthe, couragious in bat­taile, fortunate in all his affaires: but also he was luckye of children. That is to wete, he had two sonnes which were Emperours of Rome, the one was called Valente, the other Valentinian. In this case the children mighte glorye to haue a father so stout: but the glorie of the father is greater to haue sonnes of such nobilytie. For there is no greater felicitie in this world, then duringe life, to come to honour and riches: & after death, to leaue good children to en­ioy them. The eldest of y^e two sonnes was the Emperour Valente, who ruled in the Orient for the space of .iiii. yeres, & was the xxxix. Emperour of Rome, from Iulius Cesar: though some do beginne at the time of Octauian, sayeng that he was vertuous, and that Iulius Cesar vsurped the Empire lyke a tiraunt. This Valente was beautifull of personne, but poore of vertues: so that he was more beautifull thenne vertuous, more couragious thenne mer­cifull, more riche thenne charitable, more cruell then pitefull. For there are manye Princes, that are verye expert to deuise newe orders in a common wealthe: but there are few that haue stoute hartes to put the same in exe­cution. In those dayes the sect of Arrian the cursed heretike florished, and the Emperour Valente was greatly blinded therin: in somuch that he did not on­ly fauour the Arrians. but also he persecuted the Christiās, which was shewed for somuch as he killed & caused to be killed (for that occasiō) many lay men, & toke many clerkes, & banished many Bishopps, ouerthrew many Churches, robbed the goods of y^e Chrishiās, & dyd infinite other mischeues in the com­comon wealth, For the prince whych is infected wyth heresy, & liueth with­out feare of the Church, ther is neyther mischiefe nor treasō but he wil comit. In the desertes of Egipte in the mountaynes of Armenia and in the cityes [Page] of Alexandrie, there was a greate multitude of fryers and relygious men, a­mongest whom were many wise men, and pure of lyfe, constant in the de­fence of the Church, and pacient in persecutions. For he is a true relygious man, that in tyme of peace is charitable to teache the ignorant: and bold in the time of Scismes, to confound the heretyques. The Emperour Valente was not only not a frend to the Arrians, & an enemye to the Christians, but also he was a persecutour of the deuoute and religious fryers. For he commaun­ded proclamacyons, to be had through all his realmes and domynions, that all the relygious that were yonge in yeares, hole of their bodyes, and sound of their lymmes, should immedyately cast of their cowles and hoodes, lea­uyng their monasterye, and take souldiers wages in the campe. For he said Monasteryes were inuented for nothynge els, but to maintaine those that were deformed, blynde, lame, and maymed, and vppon this occasion he she­wed great tyrannye. For many monasteryes were left naked, many notable constitucions were broken, manye hermites were martyred, manye friers whypped, many notable barons banyshed, and many good men robbed of their goodes. For the vertuous men desired rather the bytter lyfe of the mo­nastery: then the swete and pleasaunt lybertie of the world. This Emperour yet not contented with these thinges, as by chaunce his wife commended vnto him the beautye of a Romaine called Iustina, without any more delaye he maried her, not forsaking hys first wyfe, and immedyatly made a lawe throughout all his Empire, that without incurring any daunger, eche Chri­stian myght haue two wyues, and mary with them by the lawe of matry­mony. For the tyrannous Princes (to cloake their vyces) make and ensta­blyshe the lawes of vices. The shame was not litle that the Emperoure Va­lente (against the commaundement of the Churche) would marie wyth two women at one time: but the lesse shame he had, the greater was his iniquy­tye to put it in excucion, and to cause it to be publyshed through hys realme as a law. For a perticuler vyce corrupteth but one alone, but a general law distroyeth al. At that tyme the puissaunt Gothes were in the parties of the orient, the whych were in feates of armes very valyaunt and couragious: but in thynges of faith they were euyl broughte vp, althoughe the greateste part of them were baptysed. For then the Churche was very poore of pre­lates, howbeit those that they had were very notable men. After the Gothes were baptysed, and the furie of the warres somewhat appeased, they sente Embassadours to the Emperour Valente, desyring hym that immedyatlye and forthwith he would sende them holy & catholyke Bishoppes, by whose doctrine they myght be instructed and brought to the christian fayth. For it was thought that the Emperoures of Rome coulde haue no byshoppes in their countryes: vnlesse they were vertuous. This wicked Emperour sythe he was now entangled with heresye, and that he had peruerted the custo­mes of the good Emperours (that is for hauing about hym euil Bishoppes) as he was enuyronned with all euills and myscheues, so he sent to the Go­thes a bishoppe called Eudoxius, the whych was a ranke Arrian, and brought with hym many Bishoppes which were heretyques, by the whych the kyn­ges and Princes of the Gothes were Arrians, for the space of 200 yeares.

[Page 36]The catholyke Princes ought to take great care to watch, and in watching to be ware and circumspect, that they, their Realmes, neyther their subiects, should in their time be defiled with heresie. For the plague of heretykes and heresyes is not of lyght occasion bannished the place, wher ons it hath reig­ned. We haue declared of the small fayth that thys Emperoure had in Ie­sus Christe, and of the greate myscheues he dyd to the Churche. Let vs now see what was the ende of hys myserable life. For the man of wycked lyfe seldome commeth to good ende. The matter was this, that as the Gothes were dryuen out of the Realme by some of the Hunnes, they came immedy­ately to the Realme of Thracia, which then was subiecte to the Romaynes. And the Emperour Valente without anye couenaunte receyued theym into hys lande, wherin he commytted great folye, and vsed lytle wisedome. For it is a generall rule, wher rebelles, vacabondes, and straungers come to in­habyte, there alwayes the Realme and dominions is destroyed.

The Gothes remayned certaine yeres amonge them without any discen­cion or quarrellynge against the Romaynes: but afterwardes through the couetousnes of Maximus chiefe Captaine of y^e Romaines, that denied the Go­thes of their prouysion, whyche so longe tyme remayned frendes, arose be­twene them so cruell warres, that it was the occasion of the losse and vtter vndoing both of Rome and of all Italye. For truly ther is no enmetye doth so much hurte, as that of frendes when they fawle out once at dyscorde. The warre now being kindeled, the Gothes were scatered throughe the Realme of Thrace, and they left no forte but they battered, they came to no villagyes nor cytyes but they sacked, they toke no women but they forced, they entred into no house but they robbed. Finally the Gothes in short time shewed the poyson that they had agaynst the Romaynes. And let no man maruel that the Gothes committed so many cruell and heynous factes, sith we that are Chrystians do commyt dayly greater offences. For among rebelles it is a common errour, that that whyche they robbe in the warres, they saye they are not bound to restore in peace. The Emperour Valente was then in the cytie of Antioche, and sith he had assembled there a great army, & had greate ayde out of Italy, he determyned hymselfe in person to go into the campe of the Romaynes, and to gyue thonset against the Gothes, wherin he shewed himselfe more bold then wise. For a Prince in battaile can doo no more then one man, nor fighte more then one man, and if he die, he is the occasion of the death and destruction of them all. When both the hostes of the Romay­nes and the Gothes ioyned, ther was betwene theym a cruell and mortall fight: so that in the first brunt the Gothes shewed them selues so valiaunte, that they put to flight the Romaines horsemen, leauing their fotemen alone in great ieopardy, the which in short space after were discomfited and slaine not one left aliue. For the barbarous sware that that day the Gothes should al dye, or els vtterly they would destroy the name of the Romaynes. And in this first charg y^e Emperour Valente was mortally woūded who perceiuing he had his deaths wound & that the battaile was lost, he determined to fire and saue himselfe. But when fortune beginneth to persecute anye man, she leaueth hym not vntill she se him dead, or beaten downe without reco­uer. [Page] Therfore as this wicked Emperour (thincking to saue himselfe) came into a shepecotte, the enemyes seyng him, in the end set fier on the shepecote, and burnt him alyue. So in one day he lost his person, his lyfe, his honoure, and his empire. It is mete that princes and great lordes should lift vp their eyes to consyder well thys historie of Valente, that they straye not from the Catholicke, Churche, that they dyshonour not Gods mynisters, and main­tayne heresyes. For as this accursed Emperoure Valente for his wicked do­inges was condignely punished by the hands of the almighty God: So let them be assured, the selfe same god wil not pardon their offences. For it is a rule infallible, that the prince which is not a good christian, shall fall into the hands of his cruell enemyes.

¶Of the godly Oration, which the Emperour Gracian made to his souldiours, before he gaue the battaile. Cap. xxvi.

VAliaunt knightes, and companions in warre, moste thankefully I ac­cept your seruice, in that you haue solde your goodes, and doe offer your liues here to accompanie me in the warres, and herein you shewe your du­ties: for of right you ought to lose your goodes, and to venture your liues, for the defence & suertie of your countrie. But if I geue you some thankes for your company, knowe you that I geue much more for your good coun­sell which presently you geue me: for in great conflictes seldome is founde together, both good counsell and stoute hartes. If I haue enterprised this battaile in hope of mans power, then you had had reason that we shoulde not geue the battaile, seing the great multitude that they haue, and the smal numbre that we are, for as you say, the weightie affaires of y^e publike weale should not vnaduisedly be committed, to the incertaintie of fortune. I haue taken vpon me this daungerous and perillous warres, firste trusting that on my part iustice remaineth, and sith god is the same onely iustice, I truste assuredly he will geue me the victorie in this perillous conflict: For iustice auaileth princes more that they haue, then the men of warre do whiche they leade. Wherfore sith my cause is iuste, and that I haue god the onely iudge thereof on my side, me thinketh if for any worldly feare I shoulde cease to geue the battayle, I should both shew my selfe to be a prince of small fayth, and also blaspheme god, saying he were of small iustice. For god sheweth moste his power there, where the fraylenes of man hath leste hope. Then sithe I beginne the warre, and that by me the warre is procured, and for me you are come to the warre, I haue determined to enter into the battaile, and if I perishe therein, I shalbe sure it shalbe for the memory of my personne, and the saluation of my soule. For to die through iustice is not to die, but to chaunge death for life. And thus doing if I lose my life, yet therefore I lose not my honour, and all this considered I doe that whiche for the common wealth I am bounde. For to a prince it were great infamy and dishonour, that the quarell being his owne, should by the bloud of others be reuenged. I wyll proue this day in battaile whether I was chosen Emperour by the deuine wyll or not. For if god this day causeth my life to be taken from me, it is a manifest token he hath a better in store for me: and if through his mer­cy I be preserued, it signifieth that for some other better thing he graunteth me life. For in the ende the sword of the enemie is but the scourge of our of­fences. The best that I see therfore in this matter to be done is, that til three daies be passed the battayle be not geuen, and that we confesse our selues this night, and in the morning prepare our selues to receiue our redemer, & besides this that euery man pardon his christian brother, if he haue had any [Page] wrong or iniury done him. For oftimes though the demaunde of the warre be iust, yet many mishaps befall therin, through the offences of those which pursue and followe the same. After the thre daies are past, and eche thing ac­cording to my saiynges before accomplished in euery point as behoueth, then let god dispose thinges as he shall see good, for nowe I am fully determined to aduenture my life in battaile. Wherfore my valiaunt and stout warriers, doubt not at all, for this day I must either vanquishe mine enemies, or els suffer death: and if I die, I doe that whiche nedes I must. Wherfore I will now cease to exhorte you any more, desiring you to consider that, wherunto your dutie leadeth you, remembring that you are come as knightes, and in the defence of your countrey you wage battayle: for nowe we are come to that pinche, that dedes must more auayle vs then wordes. For peace ought to be mainteyned by the tongue, but warres ought to be atchieued by the sworde. All these wordes then ended, and the three dayes past, the emperour Gracian in parsone gaue the battayle, where the conflicte and slaughter on both sides was marueilous terrible: yet in the end the emperour Gracian had the victory ouer his enemies, and there died in that conflicte .xxx. thousande Gothes and Almaines, and of the Romaines there were not slaine but fiue thousande. For that army onely is preserued, whiche to the deuine will is conformable. Let all other princes take example by this noble prince, let thē consider howe muche it auayleth them to be good Christians, and that in great warres & conflictes they nede not feare the great nombre of their ene­mies, but they ought greatly to se that the wrath of god be pacified. For the harte is more dismayde with the secrete sinnes, then it is feared with the opē enemies.

¶That the captaine Theodosius, which was father of the great Emperour Theo­dosius, died a good Christian. And of the king Hismarus, and the bishop Siluanus, and of a councell that was celebrated, with the lawes whiche they made and established in the same. Cap. xxvii.

THe two brethren being emperours, that is to wete, Valentinian & Valent, in the costes of Affryke, and the realme of Mauritania, a tyraunt vsurped the place of a kinge against the Romains. Who was named Thyrmus, a man hardy in trauailes, & in daungers stout: For the aduenturous hartes oftimes doe commit many tyrannyes. This tyran Thyrmus by much crueltie came possessed of the realme of Mauritania, & not contented therwith but also by tyrāny possessed a great part of Affrike, & prepared (as Hānibal did) an huge army to passe into Italy, to die in chalēging the empire of Rome. This was a renowmed tyraunt that neuer toke pleasure in any other thing so muche, as to spoyle & robbe others of their goodes. The Romaines that in all their doinges were very sage, & of the tyranny of tyrauntes sufficiently monished, immediatly prepared a great army to passe into Affryke, & to spoyle y^e realme, and to destroy the tyrante by the cōmaundement and decre of the Senate, and that for no pacte or couenaunt the tyraunt shoulde lyue. And without doubte this commaundement was iust. For to him that is a destroyer of the common wealth, it is not punishement enough to take awaye his lyfe. At that tyme there was a knyghte in Rome, whose name was Theodosius, a man well stryken in yeares, and yet better approued in warres, but he was not the richest: howbeit he vaūted him self (as truth was) to be of y^e bloud of [Page 39] Traian the great Emperour, vpon which occasion he was greatly honoured and feared in Rome, for the commons were so noble and gracious towards their princes, that all those whiche from the good and vertuous Emperour descended, were of the whole common wealth greatly estemed. This noble Theodosius was of yeares so auncient, and so honoured in his olde age for his graye heares, so noble of linage, and so approued in warres, that he was by the authoritie of the Emperour Valentinian, by the consent of all the Se­nate, and by the good wylles of the whole people, chosen to goe to the con­quest of Afrike, and truly their reason was good. For Theodosius desired much to fight against that tyraunt Thirmus, and all the people were glad that such a captaine led the armie. So this Theodosius imbarked with his armie, de­parted from Rome, and in fewe dayes arryued at Bona, whiche was a citie greatly replenished with people, situated in a hauen of the sea in Afrike. And as he and his armie were landed, the tyran Thirmus forthwith encamped his armie in the fielde in the face of the Romaines, and so all beinge planted in the plaine, the one to assaulte, and the others to defend: immediatly the two armies ioyned, and the one assaulting the other fiercely, on bothe sydes was great slaughter. So that those whiche to daye were conquered, to morowe did conquere: and those whiche yesterday were conquerours, afterward re­mained conquered. For in long warres, fortune chaungeth. In the prouince of Mauritania, there was a strong citie called Obelista, and as the captaine Theodosius by his force occupied all the field, the tyran Thirmus fortified him selfe in that citie, the which valiauntly being assaulted of the captaine Theodosius, & almost with his men entring into the same, the tyranne Thirmus (because he would not commit hym selfe vnto the faith of other men) slew him self with his proper handes. For the propertie of proude and disdainfull hertes is ra­ther to die in libertie, then to liue in captiuitie. At that tyme the Emperour Valent, by the arte of Nigromancie, wrought secretly to knowe what lucke should succede in the Romaine Empire. And by chaunce a woman being an enchauntresse had aunswere of the deuill, that the name whiche with these letters should be wrytten, should be successour to the Empire, and the letters were these. T.E.O.D. The Emperour Valent diligently enquired of all the names, which with these foure letters could be named, and they found that those signified the Theodotes, the Theodores, and the Theodoses: wherfore Valent furthwith put all those to the sworde that were of that name: Suche was the wickednes of the Emperour Valent, supposing thei would haue taken the Empire from him being alyue. For the tyranous Prince lyueth euer in ge­lousie and suspition. The excellent captaine Theodosius (the tyranne Thirmus being dead, and hauing subdued all Affrike to the Romaine Empire) was burdened that he was a secret traytour to the Empyre, and that he com­passed to wynne the same by tyrannie, for this cause therefore the Emperour Valent gaue sentence he shoulde be beheaded. And this was done he neuer hearyng of it, and muche lesse culpable thereof: for all Prynces that be wyl­full in their doynges, are very absolute of their sentence. This come to the eares of Theodosius, and seyng that he was condemned to be beheaded, he sent incontinent for the Byshoppe of Carthage, to whome he demaunded the water of the holy Baptisme, and so being baptised, and in the fayth of Christ [Page] instructed, was by the hangeman put to execution. Of this so greuous, out­tragious, and detestable facte euery man iudged this Theodosius to suffer as an innocent, and that the Emperour Valent had iudged euill and like a ty­raunt. For the innocencie of the good, is the great enemy of the euill. At the same time when Theodosius demaūded baptisme (according to y^e saying of Prosper in his cronicle) he sayd vnto the bishop, whiche should baptise him, these wordes. O byshop sainct Roger, I doe coniure thee by the creatour whiche made vs, and doe desire thee for the passion of Iesu Christe who redemed vs, to geue me the water of baptisme: for I haue made a vowe to become a Christian, if god graunted me victory. Wherefore I wyll accomplishe my vowe, for those thinges whiche necessitie causeth vs to promyse, our owne free wyll ought to accomplishe. I am sory with all my heart that beynge a Christian I can liue no longer, and sith it is so I offer my life for his sake, and into his mercifull handes I commende my soule. I leue a sonne of myne, who is called Theodosius, and if the fatherly loue begile me not, I thinke he wyll be a vertuous and stoute young man, and besides that he wil be wise, and sithe by thy handes he hath bene baptised, I require thee holy father that thou through thy wysedome wilt bring him vp in the true faith: for if he be a good Christian, I trust in god he will be a great man in the Empire. This Theodosius was the father of the great Emperour Theodosius, so that the fa­ther was a Christian, and the sonne a Christian. Not longe after the Empe­rour Valent had caused Theodosius (which was father to the great Emperour Theodosius) to be executed, Valent by the commaundement of God was by the Gothes persecuted, and in thend put to death, and truly this was the iust iud­gement of god. For he of right should suffer death him selfe, whiche vniustly procureth the death of others. Rufinus in the seconde booke of his histories saith, that after the tyraunt Thirmus was put to death by the captaine Theo­dosius, and that the Emperour Valent had caused this Theodosius to be put to death, and that the same Valent was slaine of the Gothes, the Romains crea­ted a king in Afrike, whose name was Hismarus, called for a right Christian in that time, which was from the buylding of Rome .377. There was in the citie of Carthage a holy byshop called Siluanus, a man in humaine and deuine letters excellently well learned, and sithe the kyng was so iuste, and the by­shop so holy, both the faith encreased, and also the affayres of the common weale prospered. For commonly the warres beginne rather through the pride of the highest, then through disobedience in the lowest. Therefore this holy byshop and good Christian king, being desirous in their tyme to geue good example to the subiectes, and for the time to come to leaue good pre­ceptes, they celebrated in the citie of Bona a counsaile, with all the byshoppes of Affryke, in the whiche kyng Hismarus was in persone. For in auncient coū ­selles the kynges were not onely there in persones, but also al the lordes and hie estates of their Realmes. Amongest many excellent thinges, which Rufi­nus mentioneth that were ordayned in this place, it semed good vnto me to remember here these few, to the ende christian princes nowe present, may see what deuout christians those kinges were in times paste.

¶What a goodly thynge it is to haue but one Prince to rule the pu­blike weale: for there is no greater enemye to the common weale, then he whiche procureth many to commaund therin, as by reasons folowing it shalbe proued. Cap. xxviii.

OFte tymes with my selfe alone I consider, that sithe the deuine pro­uidence, which doth all thinges by weight and measure, and that of her and by none other all creatures are gouerned, and that further­more with God there is no accepcion of personnes, for he maketh the one ryche, and the other poore: the one sage, and the other symple: the one hole, and other sicke: the one fortunate, and the other vnluckye: the one ser­uaunt, and the other maister: & let no man merueile thoughe I muse ther­at: for the varietie of time, is the beginner of dissencions amonge the people. In mans iudgmēt it semeth that it were better all were alike in apparel, al equal in commaunding, none greater then others in possessions, al to con­tent them selues with one kynde of meate, and that the names of com­maunding and obeing were vtterly abolysshed and brought to nought. So that if the myseries of the one, and prosperities of the other were put out, from that day forward I protest there should be no enuy in the world. Lay­eng asyde mans opinion, (whiche oughte not to be compared to the deuine misterie) I demaund now what reason sufficed to thincke, that of two bre­thren (that is to wete Iacob, and Esau, both children of holy and deuout per­sonnes) the deuine prouydence woulde the one shoulde bee chosen, and the other dispised, that the one shoulde commaunde, and the other obeye, the one to be disherited beinge the eldeste, and the other to inherite beinge the yongeste? That whyche chaunced to Iacob with Esau, the same chaun­ced to the children of Iacob and Ioseph: who beinge patriarkes and chosen, God prouided and ordeyned that to Ioseph beinge the youngeste, his bre­therne should serue and obeye hym. This thinge was repined at of all the [Page 41] eleuen bretherne, how be it their intencions auayled not: for it is vnpossible for mans malice to disorder that, which the deuine prouidence hath appoin­ted: we se daylye nothing els but that which man decreeth in a longe time, god disposeth otherwise in one moment. Truly it is not euill done, but wel ordeined. For in the ende, sithe man is man, in fewe thinges he can be eyther certaine or assured: and sith God is God, it is vnpossible that in any thinge he should erre. It is a great benefite of the creator, to be willing to reforme and correct the workes of the creatures. For if God woulde suffer vs to do after our owne mindes, we should be quyte contrarie to his pleasure. God without a great mysterye did not ordeine, that in one family there shoulde be but one father, amonge one people there shoulde be but one citizen that should commaunde, in one prouynce ther should be but one gouernor alone, and also that one king alone should gouerne a proude Realme, and likewise that by one onlye captaine a puissant armye should be led. And furthermore and aboue all, he willeth that there be but one Monarchyall king and Lord of the world. Truly all these thinges are such, that we with our eyes do see them and know them not, we heare them with our eares and vnderstand them not, we speake them with our tongues and know not what we say. For truly mans vnderstanding is so dull, that wythout doubt he is igno­raunt of more then he knoweth. Appolonius Thianeus compassing the moste part of Asia, Affricke, and Europe, that is to say from the bridge of Nilus wher Alexander was, vnto Gades where the pillers of Hercules were, he beinge one day in Ephese, in the Temple of Diana, the priestes asked him what thing he wondered at most in all the world? for it is a generall rule, that men which haue sene much, alwayes do note one thing aboue another. Althoughe the Philosopher Appolonius greatlyer estemed the workes, then the speakinge of them that demaunded this question, yet forthwith he made them this aun­swere, I let you know priestes of Diana, that I haue bene throughout Fraunce England, Spayne, Germany, throughe the Laces, and Lidians, Hebrues, and Greekes, Parthes, and Medes, Phrigians, and Corinthians, and so with the Perses, and aboue all in the great Realme of India: for that alone is more worthe, then all these Realmes together. I wyl you vnderstand that all these Realmes in manye and sondrye thinges do dyffer, as in languages, personnes, beastes, mettals, waters, fleshe, customes, lawes, landes, buyldinges, in apparel, and fortes, and aboue all dyuers in their Gods and Temples. For the language of the one dyffereth not so muche from the language of the other: as the Gods of Europe differ from the Gods of Asia, and the Temples and gods of Asia and Europe, differ from them of Affrike. Amonges all thinges which I haue sene, of two onlye I dyd meruaile, which is, that in all the partes of the worlde wherin I haue trauailed, I haue seen quyet men troubled by sedycious par­sones, the humble subiect to the proude, the iust obedient to the tyraunt, I haue sene the cruel commaunding the merciful, the coward ruling the har­dye, the ignoraunt teaching the wise, & aboue al, I saw that y^e most theues hunge the innocent on the gallowes. The other thing wherat I marueiled was this, y^t in al y^e places & circuite wher I haue bene, I know not, neither could I find any man that was euerlasting, but that all are mortal & in the ende both high & lowe haue an end: for many are layde to nighte into their [Page] graue, which the next day following thought to be aliue. Leaue aside the de­uine iudgment, in that he spake he said highly and like a Philosopher, for it semeth to be a pleasaunt thing, to see how men gouerne the world. Therfore now to the matter, it is but reason we know the cause of this so auncient a noueltye, whiche is: that God wylleth and ordeinethe that one onlye commaunde all, and that all together obey one. For there is nothing that God doth (thoughe the cause therof be vnknowen to vs) that wanteth rea­son in his eternall wisedome. In this case speakyng like a Christian I saye, that if our father Adam had obeyed one onlye commaundemente of God, whiche was forbydden him in the terrestial Paradise, we had remayned in lybertie vpon the earth, and should haue bene Lordes and maisters ouer al. But sith he would not then obey the Lord, we are nowe become the slaues of so many Lords. O wicked sine, cursed be thou, sith by the onely the world is broughte into suche a bondage: without teares I cannot speake that which I would, that through our first fathers, (which submitted them sel­ues to sinne) we their children haue lost the sygnorye of the world. For sithe they were prisoners to synne in their hartes: lytle auaileth the lybertie of their bodyes. There was great dyuersitie betwixt the opynions of Pytha­goras, and the opinyons of Socrates, for somuch as those of Socrates scoole saide, that it were better all thinges should be common, and all men equall. Tho­ther of Pythagoras scoole sayde the contrarie, and that the common wealthe were better wherin eche one had his owne proper, and all, should obey one, so that the one of them dyd admit and graunte the name of seruantes, and thothers dyd despise the name of Lordes. As Laertius in his first booke of the life of Philosophers sayth, that the Philosopher Demostenes was also of the same opinyon, that to the end the people should be well gouerned, he would two names should be vtterly abbolished, and taken a way: that is to wete, Lords and subiectes, masters and seruaunts: for the one desirous to rule▪ by fyersnes, and thothers not willyng to obeye by tyranny, would shedde the bloud of the innocent, and would be vyolent agaynst the poore: they would destroy the renowmed & famous people, and tyrannes would waxe stout, the which thyngs should be taken away, if there were no sygnorye, nor ser­uytude in the world. But notwithstanding these thinges, the Phylosopher in his first booke of his pollitiques sayth, that by fower natural reasons we may proue it to be very necessarie, that Princes do commaund, and the peo­ple obey. The first reason is of the partes of the Elements, symple, and mixt. For we se by experience, that the Elementes do suffer (to thende they wold be ioyned together) the one to haue more power then al: the whyche is she­wed by experyence, forasmuch as the Element of the fyer, the Element of the ayer, and the Element of the water do obey, the Element of the earth doth commaund. For against their nature he bryngeth them all to the earth. But if all the noble and chiefest Elements were obedyente to the most vile Ele­ment, onely to forme a body myxt: it is a greater reason, that al obeye to one vertuous person, that the common wealth mighte therby the better be go­uerned. The second reason is, of the bodye & the soule, in the armony wher­of the soule is the mistresse which commaundeth, and the body the seruaunt which obeyeth, fo the body neither seeth, heareth, nor vnderstandeth with­out [Page 42] y^e body. The sage Philosopher by this wil infer, that the sage men should naturally be lords ouer others. For in the world ther is nothing more m [...]n­strous, then that fooles should cōmaund, & wise men obey. The third reason taketh his ground on beastes: for we se by experience that diuers beastes by thonely knowledge of men are gouerned, therfore it is but mete that many men, which are more lyker beastes then the beastes theym selues, do suffer them selues to be gouerned and ruled by wise men. For the common weale is more profited by a brute beast, then it is by a witlesse man. The fourth reason proceadeth of women: for we se, that they being created to the image of God, god commaundeth and ordayneth that they should be subiect to man, presupposing their knowledge not to be so great, as the knowledge of men. Therfore if this thing be thus, why could not diuerse mortal men (who with out comparison know lesse then women) take theym selues for happie that one alone would commaund & gouerne them: so that such one were a sage & vertuous parson. Sithe man is naturally pollytike, which is to be a frend of company, the company engendreth enuy, & afterwards discord norisheth warre, & warre bringeth in tiranny, & tiranny destroyeth the comon wealth, & the common wealth being lost, all men thinke their liues in peryl. Ther­fore it is very necessarie that in the common wealth many be gouerned by one alone, for to conclude, ther is no common wealth wel gouerned but by one alone. The great trauayles and inconuenyences which the auncientes found in tymes past, were the occasion that it was ordeyned in the publyke weale, that all should obey one. Sythe that in a campe one onely Captaine is obeyed, and in the sea one Pilot followed, in the monasterye all obeye one prelate, and in the Churche all obeye one byshoppe, and syns in a hyue of bees, one bee onely leadeth all the rest: it were not reason that men should be without one king, nor the common wealth without a gouernour, Those men that will not haue a king in a common wealth, are lyke vnto drones & waspes which without trauaile eate the swete of others. And mine opinion in this case should be, that euery man that will not be commaunded, as an abiect of the common weale should be expulsed and cast out therof. For in a common wealthe ther can be no greater enemye then he, that desireth that many should rule therin. In that publike weale where one alone hath care for al, & al obey the commaundement of one onely, there God shalbe serued, the people shal profit, the good shalbe estemed, & the euil dispised, and besides that tirannes shalbe suppressed. For a gouernaunce of many is not profita­ble, onlesse they referre theym selues to the iudgemente of a fewe, and to the arbitermente of one alone. Oh howe man [...]e people and Realmes (because they woulde not obey their princes by iustice) haue since by cruell tirannes bene gouerned with tyrannye. For it is euen a iuste plage, that they which disire the scepters of righteous Princes, shoulde feale and proue the scourge of cruell tirauntes. Alwayes it was, and shalbe, that in the worlde there was one to commaunde, another to obeye, one to gouerne, and another to bee gouerned. In this case lette no manne saye, I am excepted, for vn­tyll thys daye there hath noo Prynce nor Knyghte beene seene, but hathe trauayled vnder thys yooke, I warne and praye, and importunatelye requyre you all, that you be loyall, and faythefull seruauntes, to the ende [Page] you may deserue to haue louing Lords. For generally the prince y^t is wicked, causeth his subiects to rebel, & y^e sedicious subiect maketh his lord to become a tiraunt. It is a great thing to the people, that their Princes be good or euil, For there are no Princes so stable, nor so temperate, that alwayes will dis­semble the euil: nor there is no gouernor so very a tyraunte, but sometimes wil acknowledge the good. Oftimes god suffereth, that ther be Emperours in the Empire, kinges in realmes, and gouernors in the prouinces, Lordes in the cities, and prelates in the churches, not al only as y^t common wealth desireth, nor as the good gouernmente requyreth: but as the offence of the multitude deserueth. For now a dayes we se many y^e haue the charge of sou­les in y^e church, which deserue not kepe y^e sheape in y^e field. That to be true, plainly it doth appeare. For such do not gouerne but disorder, they do not de­fend but offend: they do not resist the enemyes, but ingage & sel the innocent: they are no iudges, but tirannes: they are not gentil pastores, but cruel hang­men: they are not incre asers of the common wealthe, but distroyers of iu­stice: they are not ordeynors of lawes, but inuentors of trybutes: their har­tes wake not to good, but to inuent and worke al mischefe: and finally God sendeth vs such prelates and gouernors, not for that they shoulde be myni­sters of his lawes, but for that they should be scourges for oure offences.

¶That in a publike weale there is no greater destruction: then where princes dayly consent to new orders, and chaunge olde customes. Cap. xxix.

IN the first booke of the Kinges, the viii. Chapter, of the holye and sacred scripture is sayde, that Samuel (when he was old) in his steade placed his two sonnes to gouerne the people, whose names were Iohel, and Abiah for that naturally the fathers are desirous to aduaunce their children to ho­nor. The sonnes of Samuell were residente and helde the iudgemente in the citye of Beersheba, whyche was the fortheste parte of Iudea, and the olde Samuel wente to dwell in the citie Ramah. The honorable and moste aunciente menne (amonge the people of Ierusalem) assembled togither and decreed to send Embassadors to Samuel, which should be the wisest men of all the Sinagoge. For the auncientes in those dayes were so circumspect that they neuer committed any affayres of the common wealthe, into the handes of yonge men. The auncientes then being arriued at Ramah: spake these wordes vnto Samuel. Samuel thou art now old, and for thy yeres thou canst not gouerne the people, therfore thou lyke a pytefull father hast com­mitted the gouernmente of the people into the handes of thy children.

Wherfore we let the know in this case, that thy children are couetous. First they do receiue brybes of the suters. And secondarilye they do great in­iurie to the people. Therfore we are come to require the to giue vnto vs a king, that may gouerne vs, and that might leade vs in battaile. For we wil no more iudges to iudge vs, but kinges for to gouerne vs. The aged Samuel hearinge the imbassage, was ashamed of that the auncientes of Iudea had told him. First seing his children to be euill. Secondarily because they would take their offices from them. And truly herein Samuell had iust occasion, both to be ashamed & also sorye. For the vyces & wickednes of the yong children, are swords that passe throughe the hartes of the old and aunciente fathers. Samuel seing that the Hebrues were determined to depriue theym of their office, and gouernement of the people, had none other remedye but euen to [Page 43] make his mone to god of his griefe, & god hearing his complaintes said vn­to him. Samuel be not sad, nor lament not, for their demaunding a kinge (as they do) they do not mislike thy parson, but they dispraise my prouydence, & maruel not though they forsake thy children, for they are somwhat to yong, sith they haue forsaken me their god, & worship false idolles. Syth they de­maund a king, I haue determined to giue them one, but first tel tow thē the cōdicions of y^e king, which are these. The king whom I wil geue you, shall take your chyldren, with your chariottes & beastes, & shal sende them loden with burdens. And yet therwith not contented, he shall make your children postes by the wayes, tribunes & cēturions in his battailes, & shal make them laborers and gardyners in his gardins, he shal make them sowe his sedes & past his bread, and furbishe his harnes, and armour. You shal haue besides delicate & tender doughters, the which you shal litle enioy, for the king that I wil geue you, shal commaund them to kepe & attend those that are woun­ded in the warres, he shal make them cookes in his pallace, and caters of his expences. The king that I wil geue you, if he hādel your sonnes and dough­ters euil, much worse he wil handle your goods. For on the beastes & fertile feldes that you haue, his herd shal fede, he shal gather the best grapes of your vines, he shall chose of your oliue trees the best olyues & oyles, and if anye fruit afterwards remaine in your feilds, he wil they shalbe gathered not by you but of his workemen, & afterwards y^e king that I wil geue you shal op­presse you much more. For of euery pecke of corne you shal geue him one, of tenne shepe you must nedes geue him one, so that of al things which you shal gather, against your wylles, you shal giue the tenth: of your slaues the king shalbe serued soner then you, and he shal take al your Oxen that labour and trauaile in your owne possessions, & shal bring them to ploughe in his owne ground, and tenements. So that you shal pay tribute, and the king shal take his owne profite, for the wealth and commoditie of his pallace. And al thys which I haue rehersed before, y^e King shal haue whom I wil geue you. The historye which here I haue declared, is not Ouide, neither yet the Eglogges of Virgil, ne yet y^e fayninge of Homer, but it is the sentence & the very worde of god. O mortal ignoraunce, that we demaund and know not why nor wher­fore, to whom nor wher, neyther when we demaund? which causeth vs to fall into sondry errors. For few men are so wise that they offend not in cho­sing, & that they can aske with reason. The Hebrues asked (as they thinke) y^e better, and god geueth them the worse: they aske one to gouerne them, and god gyueth them a Tiraunt to destroy them: they aske one y^t should main­tayne them in iustice, and he threatneth them with tiranny: they require one that should geue them, & he geueth thē one which robbeth thē: they require one to deliuer them from bōdage, & he ordaineth one to kepe them as slaues. And finally the Hebrues trusting to be deliuered of their iudges, which ru­led not according to theyr appetites, god shal geue them a king y^t shal take they▪ goodes from them by force. O how many times ought we to pray vn­to god to giue vs princes in our comon wealth, & prelates in our churches, which do know how to gouerne vs, and minyster vnto vs, not accordynge to the weyght of our soule, but accordyng to the measure of hys mercy. Plato sath in the first booke of lawes, that one of y^e most excellent lawes which [Page] the Siciones had in their prouince, was to kepe the Cities, that they shoulde not chaunge nor alter any thing therin. Truly those Barbarous were sage in doing, and Plato was very discrete to commend them therin. For nothing destroyeth a common wealth soner, then to suffer chaunges oftetimes ther­in. Al these things semed to be true in y^e Hebrues, the which in their gouern­ment were very rashe, and vndiscrete. For first they gouerned theym selues by Patriarches, as Abraham was. After they were gouerned by prophetes, as Moyses by captaynes, as Iosue: by iudges, as Ge [...]eo: by kynges, as Dauid, & after they gouerned theymselues by Byshoppes, as Abdias was: and in the end the Hebrues not contented with all these, God suffered that they should fall into the handes of Antiochus, Ptolomeus and Herodes, all tyrauntes. This punishment fell (accordyng to the iust iudgement of God) vppon theym for their offēces: for it was euen mete, that they y^t would not enioy the pleasaūt lybertie of Iudea, should tast the cruell seruitude of Babylone. The condicion whych chaunced in the gouernement to the vnconstant Hebrues: the same happened vnto the proude Romaines. The which in the beginning of theyr Empire were gouerned by kinges, afterwardes by tenne men, then by the Consulles, soo by the dictators, by the Censours, and afterwardes by the Tribu nes, and Senatours: and in the ende, they came to be gouerned by Emperours, and tirannous princes. The Romaynes inuented all these alte­racions in their gouernments, for none other cause, but to see whether they could be deliuered from the commaundement of an other. For the Romay­nes in this case were so proude harted, that they had rather dye in lybertie, then liue in captiuitie God had so ordeyned it, and their wofull case dyd soo promyse it, when they were aboue al other kyngs and realmes of the earth, that then the slaue should be obedyent to his yronnes, and the subiect should acknowledge the homage to hys maister. And though the subiects do moue warres, though kinges also do wynne Realmes, and Emperours conquere Empyres: yet wyl they or nyl they (both great & small should acknowledge them selues for seruauntes.

For duringe the tyme of oure fleshlye lyfe, wee canne neuer withdrawe oure selues frome the yooke of seruitude. And saye not you Princes, for that you are puyssaunte princes, that you are excepted from seruitude of menne. For withoute doubte it is a thinge more vntollerable, to haue their hartes burdened with thoughtes, then their neckes loden with yrons. If a slaue be good, they take from him some yrons: but to you that are pryn­ces, the greater you are, they greater cares you haue. For the prynce that for hys common wealthe taketh care, hath not one momente of an houre quyete. A slaue hopeth to be delyuered in hys lyfe, but you can not looke to be delyuered tyl after youre death.

They laye yrons on the slaue by weyghte, but thoughtes burdenne you wythoute measure. For the wofull heart is more burdened with one houre of care: thenne the bodye is pressed, wyth twentye pounde of yrone. A slaue or prysonner if he bee alone, manye tymes fylethe of hys yrons, but you Princes that are alone, are more greuouslye tormented wythe thoughtes: for soletarye places are Arbours, and Gardeyns to woofull and heauye hartes.

[Page 44]A slaue hath nothing to care for but himselfe alone: but you that be Princes haue to satisfie & please al men. For the prince shuld haue a time for himself, & also for those which are aboue him. The deuine Plato saide wel, that he that shold haue the lest part of a prince, & belonging to a prince, oughte to be the prince himselfe. For to the end the prince should be al his owne, he ought to haue no part in himselfe. Though a slaue worke & trauaile in the day, yet he slepeth without care in the night: but you princes passe the daies in hearing importunate suetes, & the night in fetching innumerable sighes. Finallye I say, that in a slaue (be it wel, or be it euil) al his paine is finished in one yere, or is ended at his death: but what shal a woful prince do when he dyeth. If he were good, ther is but a short memorie of his goodnes: and if he hath bene euil, his infamy shal neuer haue end. I haue spoken these things to the ende that great & small, lordes and seruauntes should confesse and acknowledge, the true signory, to be onely vnto him, who for to make vs lords aboue, be­came a seruaunt here beneath.

¶When the tirannes beganne to reigne, and vpon what occasion commaun­ding and obeying first began. And how the auctorytie, which the prince hath, is by the ordenaunce of God. Cap xxx.

CEasing to speake any further of y^e poetical histories, & aunciēt feynings, and speaking the truth according to the deuine histories, the first that did loue in this world, was our father Adam: who did eate of the fruit forbidden, & that not so much for to trespasse the commaundement of one, as for not to displease his wife Eue. For many now a dayes, had rather suffer their cōscience a long time to be infected: then one only day to se their wiues displeased. The first homicyde of the world was Cayn. The first that died in y^e world was Abel. The first that had .ii. wiues in y^e world was Lamech. The first citie of the world was by Enoch built in the fields of Edon. The first mu­sitian, was Tubalcaim. The first which sayled in y^t world was Noe. The firste tirant of y^e world was Nembroth, The first priest was Melchysedech. The first king of y^e world was Anraphel. The first duke was Moyses. The first which was called Emperour in y^e world, was Iulius Cesar. For vntil this time they which gouerned, wer called Cōsulles, Censors & Dictators. And from Iulius Cesar hitherto haue bene called Emperours. The first battaile y^t was giuen in the world (as we rede) was in the wild valleis, which now they cal y^e dead & salt sea. For a great part of that, y^t then was the maine land, is now y^e dead sea. The holy scriptures cannot deceue vs, for it is ful of al truth, & by them it is declared, that a thousand & eyght hundred yeres after the world began, there was no battaile assembled, nor company that met to fight in the field: for at that tyme whan they had no ambition nor couetousnes, they knewe not what battaile mente. It is reason therfore that in this wrytinge we de­clare the cause, why the first battaile was fought in the worlde, to the ende princes may therof be aduertised, and the curious reader remaine therin sa­tisfyed. The maner was thus, that Bassa being king of Sodome, Bersa kyng of Gomorrhe, Senaab kyng of Adamee, Semebar king of Seboime, and Vale king of Se­gor, were al fyue tributaries to Chodor laomor kynge of the Aelamites, which fyue kynges conspired agaynst hym because they woulde paye hym no tri­bute, [Page] and because they woulde acknowledge no homage vnto hym.

For the Realmes payeng tribute, haue alwayes rebelled and sowed sedici­ons, This rebellion was in the 13 yere of the reigne of Chodor Laon [...]or king of the Aelamytes, and immediatly the yere following, Anraphel king of Sernaar, Arioch kinge of Ponte, and Aradal kinge of the Allotali, ioyned with Chodor-Laomor. The which altogether beganne to make warres, to destroy cities & countreys vppon their enemyes. For the olde malice of the warre is, that where they cannot haue their enemyes whiche are in the faulte: they put to sacke and distroy those which are innocent and giltlesse. So the one assaul­ting, and the other defending, in the end all come to the field, they gaue bat­tayle as two enemyes, and the greatest part was ouercome of the fewest, and the fewest remained victorious ouer the greatest, which thing GOD would suffer in the first battaile of the world, to the end princes might take example, that all the mishappes of the warres come not, but because they are begon of an vniust occasion. If Chodor Laomor had held himselfe contented as hys predecessours dyd, and that he had not conquered Realmes in makinge theym subiect, and had not caused theym to paye trybute: neither they vnto him, woulde haue denied reason: nor he with theym woulde haue waged battaile. For throughe the couetousnes of the one, and the ambition of the other, enmyties grewe betwene the people, This considered whiche we haue spoken of sygnorye, and of those which came into contentions for signoryes, Let vs now se from whence the first oryginal of seruitude came, and the names of seruauntes and lordes whiche were in the olde tyme, and whether seruitude was by the discord of vertuous men, firste brought into the world: or els inuented by the ambytion of Tyrauntes. For when the one commaundeth, and the other obeyeth, it is one of the nouelties of the world as the holy scripture declareth vnto vs in this maner. The patriarche Noah had 3. sonnes, which wer Shem, Ham, and Iaphet, and the second sonne (which was Ham) begotte Cush, and this Cush begot Nimrod. Nimrod made him selfe a honter of wild beastes, in the woodes and mountaines, he was the first y^t began to play the tyraunt amongeste men, inforcynge theyr personnes, and taking theyr goodes, and the scriptures called him Oppressor hominum, which is to say, an oppressor of men. For men of euyl life, alwayes cōmit much euill in a common wealth. He taught the Chaldeans to honour the fyre, he was the first that presumed to be an absolute lorde, and the firste that euer requyred of men homage and seruice. This cursed tyraunte ended his lyfe in the gol­den world, wherin al thinges were in common, with the common wealth. For the auncientes vsed their goodes in common: but their willes onelye they reserued to them selues. They ought not to thinke it a lighte matter, for his person to haue bene a Tiraunt: but they ought to thinke it a greater ma­ter, to haue bene a rebell in a common wealthe. And muche more they oughte to take and esteame it as an euill matter in hym, whyche hathe bene (as he was) a disturber of the good customes of hys countrye: but the moste vniuste of all is, to leaue behynd hym anye euyll custome brought into the common wealthe. For if hee deserue greate infamye whyche woorketh euyll in hys lyfe: trulye hee deserueth muche moore, whych tra­uayleth to bryng that euyl in vre after hys death. Eusebius semeth to affirme, [Page 45] that after this Nimrod had destroyed the realme of Chaldea by his plagues, he came to dwel in Italy with viii. sonnes, & built the citie of Camesa, which af­terwards, in Saturnes time was called Valentia, & in the time of Romulus it was called as it is at this present, Rome. And sithe this thinge was thus, a man ought not to maruaile that Rome in auncient time was possessed with ty­raunts, and with tirauntes beaten downe, since by so famous & renowmed tyraunts it was founded. For euen as Hierusalem was the doughter of the pacient, & the mansion of the quyet kinges in Asia: so was Rome the mother of proude princes in Europe. The histories of the gentiles (which knew not the holy scripture) declare in an other sort the beginninge of Signorye and seruitude, & when they came into the worlde: for the Idolatrers not onlye did not know the creatoure of the world: but also they were ignoraunte of many things which beganne in the world. They therefore say, that the Ty­ranne Nimrod (amongest the others) had a sonne called Belus. & that this Belus was the first, y^e raigned in the land of Syria, & that he was the first that inuen­ted warres on the earth, & that he set vp the first monarchie among y^e Assiri­ans & in the end he died after he had reigned 60 and 5. yeres in Asia & left the world in great warres. The first monarchie of the worlde, was that of the Assirians, & continued 132. yeres. The first king was Belus, & the last king was Sardanapalus, whom (at that tyme when he was slaine) they found spinninge with women hauing a distaffe in his hand, wherwith they vse to spinne: & truly this vile death was to good for such a cowardly king. For the prince ought not to defend that with the distafe, that his predecessours had wonne with the sworde. As we haue said Nimrod begat Belus: who had to wife Se­myramis, which was the mother of Ninus, which Ninus succeded his father in tyranny, & in the empire also: and both the mother & the sonne not cōtented to be Tyraunts, inuented statues of newe gods. For mans malice poursu­eth rather the euil, which the wicked do inuent: then the good which vertu­ous men begine. We would haue shewed you how the graundfather & the father, y^e mother & the sonne, were Idolatrers & warlicke, to the end princes and great Lords might se, that they beganne their Empyres, more for that they were ambitious parsonnes, then for that they were good paciente: or vertuous men Albeit that Nimerod was the first that euer committed anye tyranny, & whether it be true or not, that Belus was the firste that inuented warres, and that Chodorlaormor was the first that inuented battayles, and that ther be others, wherof the writinges make no mencion: euery man ta­king for himselfe, & afterwards all togethers: those were occasions of euyll enough in the world, to agre vnto those things. Our inclinacion is greatly to be blamed, for those which haue credit for their euil, are many: and those whych haue power to do well, are very fewe.

¶Of the golden age in times past, and worldly miserie which we haue at this present. Cap. xxxi.

IN the first age & golden world, al liued in peace, ech man toke care for his owne lands, euery one planted & sowed their trees & corne, eueryone gathered his frutes and cut his vynes, kned their breade, and brought vp their children, and finally all liued by their owne proper swette & trauaile, so that they all liued without the preiudice or hurt of any other. O worldly malice, [Page] O cursed & wicked world, that thou neuer sufferest things to remaine in one estate, and thought I cal the cursed, maruaile not therat: for when we are in most prosperitie, then thou with death persecutest vs most cruelly. With­out teares I say not that I wil say, that 2000 yeres of the world wer past before we knew what the world ment, god suffering it, and worldly malice inuenting it, ploughes were turned into weapons, oxen to horses, goades to lances, whippes to arrowes, slinges to crosbowes, simplycitye into ma­lice, trauaile into Idlenes, rest to paine, peace to warre, loue to hatred, chari­tie to crueltie, Iustice to tyranny, profite to domage, almes to theft, & aboue al, fayth into Idolatrie. And finallye the swete they had to profite in their owne goods, they tourned to bloud sheading, to the domage of the comon wealth. And herein the world sheweth it selfe to be a world, herein worldly malice sheweth it selfe to be malicious, in somuch as the one reioyceth, & the other lamenteth: the one reioceth to stomble, to the end the other may fall & breake his necke, the one reioyceth to be poore, to the end the other maye not be riche: the one reioyseth to be dispraised, to the end the other may not be honored: the one delighteth to be sad, to the ende the other shoulde not be merye: & to conclude we are so wicked, that we banishe the good from our owne house, to the end that the euill might enter in at the gates of an other man. When the creator created the whole world, he gaue to eche thinge im­mediatly his place: that is to wete, he placed intelligence, in the vppermoste heauen: he placed the starres, in the firmament: the planettes, in the orbes: the byrdes in the ayre: the earth on the center: the fyshes in the water: the serpentes, in the holes: the beastes in the mountaines: and to al in generallye he gaue place to reste them selues in. Now let princes and great Lordes be vaine glorious sayenge that they are Lords of the earth, for truly of all that is created, god only is the true Lord therof, because the miserable man for his part, hath but the vse of y^e fruit, for if we thinke it reasonable that we should enioy the profite of that which is created: then were it more conuenient we should acknowledge god to be the Lord therof. I do not deny, but confesse, y^e God created al things, to the end they should serue man vpō condicion, that mā shold serue God likewise: but whē the creature riseth against god, imme­diatly the creator resisteth against man. For it is but reason y^t he be disobeyd, who one only cōmaundemēt wil not obey. O what euil fortune hath y^e crea­ture, only for disobeying y^e comaundement of his creator. For if man had kept his cōmaundement in Paradise, god had conserued to the world y^e signorie: but the creatures whome he created for his seruice, are occasion to him of great troubles: for the ingratitude of benefit, heapeth great sorow to y^e dis­cret hart. It is great pitie to behold the man that was in paradise, & y^t might haue bene in heauen: & now to se him in the world, & aboue al to be interred in y^e intrailes of the earth. For in terrestiall paradise, he was innocent, & in heauen he had bene blessed, but nowe he is in the worlde, enuirouned with cares, and afterwardes he shalbe throwen into hys graue, and gnawen of the wormes. Let vs nowe see the disobedience wee hadde in the com­maundemente of GOD, and what fruite we haue gathered in the world. For he is very simple, that dare commit any vice, taking no delight nor plea­sure therof in his body. In my opinion, through the sinnes whiche our fore­fathers [Page 46] committed in paradise, the seruitude remaineth in vs their children which are on the earth. For so much as if I entre into the water I drowne, if I touche the fire I burne, if I cone neare a dog he biteth me, if I threaten a horse he casteth me, if I resiste the wynde it bloweth me downe, if I perse­cute the serpent he poysoneth me, if I smite the beare he destroieth me, and to be brief I saie, that the man that without pitie eateth men in his life: the wormes shal eate his intrailes in the graue after his death. O princes & great lordes, lode your selues with cloth of gold, heape vp your great treasours, as­semble many armies, inuente Iustes & Torneis, seke your pastimes, reuēge your selues of your enemies, serue your selues with your subiectes, marrye your children to mighty kinges, & set them in great estate, cause your selues to be feared of your enemies, imploye your bodies to al pleasures, leue great possessions to your heires, rayse sumptuous buildinges to leaue memory of your persons, I sweare by him that shal iudge me, that I haue more compas­sion to see your sinfull soules, then I haue enuy to see your vicious liues. For in the end all pastimes will vanishe away, and they shal leaue you for a gage to the hungry wormes of the earth. O if princes did consider (though they haue bene borne princes, created & norished in great estates) that the day thei are borne, death immediatly commeth to seke the end of their life, and taketh them here and there when they are whole, & when they are sicke, now tom­bling, then rising, he neuer leaueth them one houre vntill their woful burial. Therfore sith it is true (as in dede it is) that that whiche princes possesse in this life is but small, & that which they hope in the other is so great: truly I marueile why princes, the which shal lie so straight in the graue, dare liue in such & so great largenes in their life. To be riche, to be lordes, & to haue great estates, men should not therof at al be proude, since they see how fraile mans condicion is: for in thend life is but lone, but death is enheritage. Death is a patrimonie & heritage, which successiuely is inherited: but life is a righte, which daily is surrendred. For death counteth vs somuche his owne, that oftimes vnwa [...]es he cōmeth to assault vs: & life taketh vs such straungers, that oftetimes we not doubting therof it vanisheth away. If this thing thē be true, why wil princes & great lordes presume to cōmaunde in a straunge house, which is this life: as in their own house which is the graue? Leauing aside the said opinions, I say that for sinne only seruitude came to dwell in vs, & entered into the world: for if there had ben no sinners, we ought to be­leue there had bene no lordes, nor seruauntes. For as much as seruitude ge­nerally entred into the world through sinne, I say that the signorie of princes is by the deuine commaundement, for he saith: by me the king doth gouerne, and by me the prince doth minister iustice. I conclude in this sorte, with this reason, that since it is true princes are sent by y^e handes of god for to gouerne vs, we are bounde in all and for all to obey them: for there is no greater pla­gue in a publike weale, then to be disobedient to the prince.

¶Howe king Alexander the great after he had ouercome king Darius in Asia, went to conquere the great India, and of that whiche happened vnto him with the Garamantes, and howe the good life hath more po­wer then any force of warre. Cap. xxxii.

[Page]IN the yeare of the creation of the worlde .4970. in the firste age of the worlde, and in the .4027. yeares of the foundation of Rome, Ia [...]o being highe priest in Hierusalem, Decius and Mamilius at Rome consulles, in the thirde yeare of the monarchie of the Greekes, Alexander the great (sonne to Philipe of Macedonia king) gaue the laste battayle to Darius kinge of Persia, wherein kyng Alexander escaped very sore wounded, & Darius slayne, so that the whole Empire of the Perses, came vnder the gouernaunce of the Grekes. For the vnfortunate princes doe not onely lose their lyues with which they came into the worlde: but also the realmes whiche they did inherite. After that Darius was dead, and Alexander sawe him selfe lorde of the fielde, & that the Perses and Medes were become subiecte to the Gretians: thoughe manye kynges and lordes died in those cruell battayles, yet it semed to Alexander a trifle to be gouernour of all Asia, wherefore he determined in persone to goe conquere the great India. For proude and stoute hartes, obteining that which they desire, immediatly begin to esteme it as litle. All his armies repaired, & placing gouernours in all the realmes of Asia, Alexander departed to conquer the great India: for he had promised and sworne to his gods, that through al the world there should be but one Empire, and that that shoulde be his: and more ouer that he would neuer passe through any straunge realme or coun­trey, but it should geue obedience vnto him, or els forthwith he woulde de­stroye it. For tyrannous hartes haue neuer any regarde to the domage of another, vntill they haue obtained their wicked desiers. Alexander then going to conquere realmes, and destroye prouinces, by chaunce one said vnto him, that on the other syde of the mountaines Riphei (towardes the partes of In­dia) was a barbarous nation whiche were called Garamantes, as yet neuer cō ­quered, neither by the Perses, Medes, Romaines, nor Grekes, neither any of thē euer triumphed ouer them. For they had no weapons, nor estemed them not, sithe they had no ryches. Kinge Alexander (who for to subdue realmes and straunge countries was very diligente and hardy, and to see newe thinges very desyrous) determined not onely to sende to see that countrey: but also to go him selfe in persone, and in that place to leaue of him some memorye, which thing forthwith he accomplished. For he left them Alters, as Hercules left in Gades pillars. For mans harte is so stoute, that it trauayleth not onely to compare with many, but also to excell all. The Embassadours of Alexan­der were sent to Garamantes, to aduertise them of the comming of kyng Alex­ander the great, and of the terrible and cruell battayles whiche he in warres had ouercome, and to declare vnto them howe the puissaunt kynge Darius was slayne, and that all Asia was vnder his subiection, and howe euery ci­tie did yelde them selues, against whome he neither lifted spere nor sworde, because all yelded to his commaundement. With these and suche other lyke thynges they would haue feared them, for wordes oftimes maketh menne more afraide, specially when they are spoken of stoute menne: then doe the swordes of cowards. Lucius Bosco saith, in his thirde booke of the antiquities of the Gretians (of whom the originall of this historie is drawen) that after the Embassadours of Alexander had spoken to the Garamantes, they were no­thyng at all troubled for the message, neither did they flie from Alexander, nor they prepared any warre, neither toke they in hande any weapons, nor yet [Page 47] they did resiste him. Yea and the chiefest of all was, that no man of all the countrey euer departed out of his house, finally they neither aunswered the Embassadours (of Alexander) to their message, nor yet spake one worde vnto them. And truly the Garamantes had reason therin, and did in that right wy­sely: for it is a folly for a man to perswade those men with wordes, whiche enterpryse any thing of will. It is a marueilous matter to heare tell of the histories of those Garamantes (that is to saye) that all their houses were of e­quall height, all men were appareled a lyke, the one had no more authoritie then another, in fedyng they were no gluttons, in drynking wyne they were temperate, of plees and debates they were ignoraunt, they would suffer no idle man to lyue among them, they had no weapons, because they had no en­nemies, and generally they spake fewe wordes, but that whiche they spake was alwayes true. Kyng Alexander being somewhat informed of those Ga­ramantes, and their lyfe, determined to sende for them, and called them before his presence, and instantly desired them, if they had any wyse men amonge them, to bryng them vnto hym, and by wrytinge or by worde of mouthe to speake somewhat vnto him. For Alexander was suche a frende to sage men, that all the realmes whiche he ouercame, immediatly he gaue to his men, excepting the sages whiche he kepte for his owne persone. Quintus Curtius, by kyng Alexander sayeth, that a prince doeth well spende his treasours to con­quere many Realmes, onely to haue the conuersation of one wyse man. And truly he had reason, for to princes it is more profite, in their lyfe to be accom­panied with sages: then after their death, to leaue great treasures to their heires. Certayne of those Garamantes then beinge come before the presence of Alexander the greate, one amonge them (as they thought the moste auncien­test) him selfe alone (the residue keapynge silence) in the name of them all spake these wordes.

¶Of an oration whiche one of the sages of Garamantia made vnto kyng Alexander. A goodly lesson for al ambitious men. Cap. xxxiii.

IT is a custome king Alexander, amongest vs Garamantes, to speake seldome one to another, and scarsely neuer to speake with straungers, especially if they be busy and vnquiet men: for the tongue of an euyll man is no other, but a playne demonstration of his enuious harte. When they tolde vs of thy comming into this countrie, immediatly we determined not to goe out to receyue thee, nor to prepare our selues to resiste thee, neyther to lyfte vp our eyes to behold thee, nor to open our mouthes to salute thee, neither to moue our handes to trouble thee, ne yet to make warre to offende thee. For grea­ter is the hate that we beare to ryches and honors, whiche thou louest: then the loue is that thou hast to destroye men, and subdue countreis, which we abhorre. It hath pleased thee we should see thee, not desiring to see thee, and we haue obeied thee, not willing to obey thee, and that we shoulde salute thee, not desirous to salute thee, wherewith we are content, vpon condicion that thou be pacient to heare vs. For that whiche we will saye vnto thee, shall tende more vnto the amendement of thy lyfe: then to diswade thee frō conquering of our countrey. For it is reason that princes whiche shall come hereafter do know, why we liuing so litle esteme y^t which is our own: & why thou dieng taking suche paynes to possesse that whiche is an other mans. [Page] O Alexander, I aske thee one thing, and I doubte whether thou canst aun­swere me thereunto or no: for those hartes which are proude, are also moste commonly blinded. Tell me whether thou goest? from whence thou com­mest? what thou meanest? what thou thinkest? what thou desirest? what thou sekest? what thou demaundest? what thou searchest? and what thou procurest? and further to what realmes and prouinces thy disordinate appe­tite extendeth? without a cause I doe not demaunde thee this question, what is that thou demaundest, and what it is that thou sekest: for I thinke thou thy selfe knowest not what thou wouldest. For proud and ambitious hartes knowe not what will satisfie them. Sith thou art ambitious, honor deceiueth thee: sithe thou art prodigall, couetousnes begileth thee: sithe thou art younge, ignoraunce abuseth thee: and sithe thou art proude, all the worlde laugheth thee to scorne: in suche sorte, that thou followest men and not rea­son, thou followest thyne owne opinion and not the counsel of another, thou embrasest flatterers, and repulsest vertuous menne. For princes and noble men had rather be commended with lies, then to be reproued with truthe. I can not tell to what ende you princes lyue so disceiued, and abused, to haue and kepe in your pallaces mo flatterers, iuglers, and fooles: then wyse and sage mē. For in a princes pallace if there be any which extolleth their doings, there are tenne thousand which abhorre their tyrannies. I perceiue by these dedes (Alexander) that the gods wyll soner ende thy lyfe, then thou wilt ende thy warres. The man that is brought vp in debates, discentions, and strife, al his felicitie consisteth in burning, destroying, and bloudsheding. I see thee defended with weapons, I see thee accompanied with tyrauntes, I see thee robbe the temples, I see thee without profite wast the treasours, I see thee murder the innocent, and trouble the pacient, I see thee euill willed of all, and beloued of none, whiche is the greatest euil of al euilles. Therfore how were it possible for thee to endure suche and so great trauayles, vnlesse thou art a foole, or els because god hath appointed it to chastise thee. The Gods suffer oftetimes that men being quiet, should haue some weighty affaires, & that is not for that they should be honored at this present, but to the end thei should be punished for that which is past. Tell me I praye thee, peraduen­ture it is no great folly to empoueryshe many, to make thy selfe alone riche? it is not (peraduenture) folly that one shoulde commaunde by tyranny, and that al the rest lose the possession of their signorie? It is not folly perchaunce to leue (to the damnation of our soules) many memories in the world of our body? It is not folly perchaunce that the Gods approue thy disordinate appetite alone, and condemne the wil and opinion of all the worlde besyde? peraduenture it is not folly to winne (with the teares of the poore, and com­fortlesse wydowes) so great and bloudie victories? peraduenture it is no fol­ly, willingly to wette the earth with the bloud of innocentes, onely to haue a vayne glory in this world? Thou thinkest it no folly peraduenture, god ha­uing deuided the worlde into so many people, that thou shouldest vsurpe them to thee alone? O Alexander, Alexander, truly such workes proceade not from a creature noryshed among men on the earth: but rather of one that hath bene broughte vp among the infernall furies of hell. For we are not bounde to iudge men by the good nature they haue: but by their good and [Page 48] euyll workes whiche they doe. The man is cursed (if he haue not bene cursed he shalbe cursed) that liueth to the preiudice of all other in this world present: onely to be counted couragious, stoute, and hardy in tyme to come. For the gods seldome suffred them to enioye that quietly in peace, whiche they haue gotten vniustly in the warres. I would aske the, what insolency moued the to rebel against thy lorde king Darius after whose death thou hast sought to conquere all the worlde, and this thou doest not as a kyng that is an inheri­ritour: but as a tyraunt that is an oppressor. For him properly we call a ty­raunt, that without iustice and reason taketh that which is an other mans. Either thou searchest iustice, or thou searchest peace, or els thou searchest ry­ches, and our honor, thou searchest rest, or els thou searchest fauoure of thy frendes, or thou searchest vengeaunce of thyne enemies. But I sweare vnto thee (Alexander) that thou shalt not finde any of all these thinges if thou sea­kest by this meanes, as thou hast begonne: for the swete suger is nor of the nature of the bitter gumbe. Howe shall we beleue thou searchest iustice, sith against reason and iustice, by tyranny thou rulest all the earth? howe shall we beleue thou searchest peace, sithe thou causest them to paie tribute which receiueth thee: and those which resiste thee, thou handlest them like enemies? howe can we beleue that thou searchest reste, sithe thou troublest all the worlde? How can we beleue thou searchest gentlenes, sithe thou arte the scourge and sworde of humaine fraylnes? howe can we beleue that thou searchest ryches, sithe thine owne treasure suffiseth thee not, neyther that whiche by the vanquished cometh vnto thy handes, nor that which the con­querours offer thee? how shal we beleue thou searchest profite to thy frēds, sithe that of thyne olde frendes thou haste made newe enemies? I let thee vnderstande Alexander, that the greatest ought to teache the leaste, and the leaste ought to obeye the greatest. And frendshippe is onely amongest e­qualles. But thou, sithe thou sufferest none in the worlde to be equall and lyke vnto thee, loke not thou to haue any frende in the worlde. For princes oftymes by ingratitude loase faithfull frendes: and by ambicion wynne mor­tall enemies. Howe shall we beleue thou searchest reuenge of thine enemies, sythe thou takest more vengeaunce of thy selfe being aliue: then thyne ene­mies woulde take of thee if they toke the prysoner? though perchaunce in times past they vsed thy father Philip euill, and haue now disobeied thee his sonne. It were better counsell for thee, to make them thy frendes by gentle­nes: then to confirme them ennemies by crueltie. For the noble and pitifull hartes, when they are reuenged of any, make of them selues a bucherye.

Wee can not with trouthe saye, that thy trauayles are well imployed to wynne suche honour, sythe thy conuersation and lyfe is so vnconstaunt. For trulye honour consisteth not in that flatterers saye, but in that whiche Lordes doe. For the great familiaritie of the wycked, causeth the lyfe to be suspected. Honour is not gotten by lyberall geuinge of treasoures at hys death, but by spendynge it well in his lyfe. For it is a sufficient profe, that the man whiche esteameth renowme, dothe lytle regarde money: and it is an apparaunte token, that man, who lytle esteameth money, greatlye regardeth his renowme.

A man wynneth not honour by murdering innocentes, but by destroying [Page] tyrauntes: for all the armonie of the good gouernement of princes is, in the chastising of the euill, and rewarding the good. Honour is not wonne in taking and snatching the goodes of an other, but in geuing and spendinge his owne. For there is nothing that beautifieth the maiestie of a prince more, thē to shewe his noblenes in extending mercy and fauour to his subiectes: and geuing giftes and rewardes to the vertuous. And to conclude, I will let the know who he is, that winneth both honour in this life, and also a perpe­tuall memory after his death: and that is not he whiche leadeth his lyfe in warres, but he that taketh his death in peace. O Alexander, I see thou arte younge and that thou desirest honour, wherfore I let thee vnderstande that there is no man farther from honour, then he whiche procureth and desireth the same. For y^e ambicious mē not obteining that which they desire, remayne alwayes defamed: and in wynning and getting that whiche they searche, honour notwithstanding will not followe them. Beleue me in one thynge Alexander, that the true honour ought through worthy deades to be deser­ued, and by no meanes to be procured: for all the honour that by tyranny is wonne, in the ende by infamy is lost. I am sory for thee Alexander, for I see thou wantest iustice, since thou louest tyranny. I see thou lackest peace, be­cause thou louest warre. I see thou art not ryche, because thou hast made all the worlde poore. I see thou lackest rest, because thou sekest contention and debate. I see thou hast no honour, because that thou winnest it by infamy. I see thou wantest frendes, because thou haste made them thyne ennemies. Finally I see thou doest not reuenge thy selfe of thy ennemies, because thou arte (as they would be) the scourge to thy selfe. Then since it is so, why arte thou alyue in this world, sithe thou lackest vertues for the which life ought to be desired? For truly that man, whiche without his owne profite, and to the domage of another leadeth his life: by iustice ought forthwith to lose his breath. For there is nothing that soner destroieth the weale publyke, then to permit vnprofitable men therein to liue. Therefore speaking the trouthe, you lordes and princes are but poore. I beleue thou conquerest the worlde be­cause thou knowest not thy superiour therein, and besydes that thou wylte take lyfe from so many, to the ende that by their death thou maiest wynne renowme. If cruell and warrelike princes (as thou arte) should inherite the liues of them whome they slaye, to augmente and prolonge their liues, as they doe inheritie goodes to maintayne their pryde, although it were vn­meate, then warre were tollerable. But what profiteth the seruaunt to lose his life this day, and his maisters death to be differred but vntil the mo­rowe? O Alexander, to be desirous to commaunde muche, hauinge respite to liue but litle: me thinketh it were a great foly and lacke of wysedome. Pre­sumptuous and ambicious men whiche measure their workes not with the fewe daies they haue to liue, but with the arrogant and haughty thoughtes they haue to commaunde. They leade their lyfe in trauayle, and take their death with sorowe. And the remedy hereof is, that if the wyse man cannot obtayne that which he would, he should content him selfe with that which he may. I let thee knowe Alexander, that the perfection of men is not to see much, to heare much, to knowe much, to procure much, to come to much, to trauayle much, to possesse much, and to be able to doe much: but it is to be in [Page 49] in the fauour of the gods. Finally I tell thee that that man is perfecte, who in his owne opinion deserueth not that he hath, and in the opinion of ano­ther deserueth muche more then that he possesseth. We are of this opinion a­monge vs, that he is vnworthy to haue honour, who by suche infamous meanes searcheth for it. And therfore thou Alexander deseruest to be sclaue to many, because thou thinkest to deserue the signorie ouer all. By the immor­tall gods I sweare, I can not imagine the great mischiefe which entred in­to thy breast, so vnrighteously to kill kyng Darius (whose vassale and frende thou wert onely) because thou wouldest possesse the Empire of the whole worlde? For truly seruitude in peace is more worth, then signorie in warre. And he that shall speake against that I haue spoken, I saye he is sicke and hath loste his taste.

¶The sage Garamante continueth his oration, shewing that perpetuitie of life can not be bought with any worldly treasure. Among other notable matters he maketh mention of the seuen lawes which they obserued. Cap. xxxiiii.

THou wilt not deny me Alexander, that thou wert more healthfull when thou waste kyng of Macedonia, then thou art nowe being lorde of all the earth: for the excessiue trauayle bryngeth menne out of all order. Thou wilt not denye me (Alexander) that the more thou gettest, the more thou de­sirest: for the hart which with couetousnes is set on fier, cannot with wood and bowes of riches, but with the earth of the graue be satisfied and quen­ched. Thou wilt not denie me (Alexander) but the aboundaunce that thou thy selfe hast, semeth vnto thee litle, and the litle whiche an other man possesseth, semeth vnto thee muche: for the gods, to the ambicious & couetous hartes gaue this for penaunce, that neither with enough nor with to muche they should contente them selues. Thou wilt not denie me (Alexander) if in dede thy harte be couetous, that first the pleasures of life shall ende before thy co­uetousnes: for where vices haue had power long time in the harte, there de­ath onely and none other hath authoritie to pluck vp the rootes. Thou wilt not denie me (Alexander) that though thou hast more then all, yet thou enioyest least of any: for the prince that possesseth muche, is alwayes occupied in de­fending it: but the prince that hath litle, hath time and leasure in quiet to en­ioye it. Thou wilt not denie me (Alexander) though thou callest thy selfe lorde of all, yet thou hast but onely the name thereof, and others thy seruauntes & subiectes haue all the profites: for the gredy and couetous hartes do trauaile and toyle to get, and in wasting that whiche they haue gotten they pyne a­waye. And finally (Alexander) thou wilt not denie me, that all that whiche thou hast in the longe conquest gotten, is litle: and that whiche of thy wyse­dome and quietnes thou hast lost, is much. For the Realmes whiche thou hast gotten are innumerable, but the cares, sighes, and thoughtes whiche thou hast heaped vpon thy harte are infinite. I let the knowe one thing, that you princes are poorer then the poore subiectes: for he is not ryche that hath more then he deserueth, but he that desireth to haue lesse then that he posses­seth. And therfore princes you haue nothing, for though you abound in great treasures: yet you are poore of good desires. Nowe Alexander let vs come to the pointe, and caste accompte, and let vs see to what ende thy conquest wil come. Eyther thou arte a man, or thou arte a God. And if thou be any of the [Page] gods, commaunde or cause that we be immortall: and if thou canst doe any suche thing, then take vs and our goods withall. For perpetuitie of the lyfe, by no riches can be boughte. O Alexander, I let thee vnderstande, that therefore we seke not to make warre with thee: for we see that bothe from thee and also from vs, death will shortly take away the life. For he is a very simple man, that thinketh alway to remayne in an other mans house, as in his owne. If thou Alexander couldest geue vs as god euerlastinge life, eche man would trauayle to defende his owne house: but sithe we knowe we shal die shortly, we care litle whether to thee or any other our goods & riches remaine. For if it be folly to dwell in an other mans house as in his owne, it is a greater folly to him that loseth his life, in taking thought and lamen­ting for his goodes. Presuppose that thou art not god but a man, I coniure the then by the immortal gods, and do require the that thou lyue as a man, behaue thy selfe as a man, and couet no more then an other man, neither de­syre more nor lesse then a man? for in the end thou shalt die as a mā, and shal be buried as a man, and throwen into the graue, & then there shalbe no more memorie of thee. I tolde thee before that it greued me to see thee so hardy & couragious, so apte and so younge, and nowe it greueth me to see thee so de­ceiued with the world: and that which I perceiue of thee is, that then thou shalt knowe thy folly, when thou shalt not be able to finde any remedy. For if the proude younge man before he feleth the wound, hath all redy the oynt­ment. You whiche are Grecians call vs Barbarous, because we enhabite the mountaines. But as touching this I say, that we reioyce to be Barba­rous in our speache, and Greekes in our doinges: and not as you which haue the Grecians tongue, and doe Barbarous workes. For he that doth well, & speaketh rudely, is no barbarous man: but he which hath the tongue good, and the life euill. Sithe I haue begonne to that ende nothing remaynd vn­spoken, I will aduertise thee of our lawes and life, and marueile not to here it, but desire to obserue and kepe it: for infinite are they whiche extolle ver­tuous workes, but fewe are they whiche obserue the same. I let thee wete (Alexander) that we haue short life, we are fewe people, we haue litle landes, we haue litle goodes, we haue no couetousnes, wee haue fewe lawes, we haue fewe houses, wee haue fewe frendes, and aboue all we haue no enemies. For a wyse man ought to be frende to one, and enemy to none. Be­sides all this we haue amongest vs great frendshippes, good peace, great loue, much reste, and aboue all we holde our selues contented. For it is bet­ter to enioy the quietnes of the graue, then to liue a discontented life. Our lawes are fewe, but in our opinions they are good, and are in seuen wordes onely included as here foloweth. We ordaine that our children make no more lawes then we their fathers doe leaue vnto them: for newe lawes maketh them forget good and olde customes. We ordayne that our suc­cessours shall haue no mo Gods then twoo, of the whiche the one god shalbe for the life, and the other for the death: for one God well serued is more worth, then many not rewarded. We ordaine that all be appareled with one cloth, and hosed of one sorte, and that the one haue no more apparell then the other: for the diuersitie of garmentes edgendreth folly among the people. [Page 50] We ordeine that whan any woman which is maried hath had thre childrē, that then she be separated from her husband: for the aboundaunce of children causeth men to haue couetous hartes. And if any woman hath broughte forth any mo children, then they should be sacrificed vnto the gods before her eies. We ordeine that all men and women speake the truthe in all thinges, and if any be taken in a lie, committing no other fault, that immediatly he be put to death for the same. For one lyer is able to vndo a whole multitude. We ordeine that no woman liue aboue .xl. yeres, and that the man lyue vn­till fiftie, and if they die not before that time, that then they be sacrifised to the gods: for it is a great occasion for men to be vicious, to thinke that they shal lyue many yeares

¶That princes ought to consider, for what cause they were made princes, and what Thales the philosopher was, of the .xii. questions asked him, and of his aunswere he made vnto them. Cap xxxv.

IT is a commen and an old saiyng (whiche many times by Aristotle the no­ble prince hath bene repeted) that in the ende all thinges are done to some purpose: for there is no worke (neither good nor euill) but he that doth it, meaneth it to some end. If thou demaundest the gardener to what ende he watereth so oft his plantes, he wil aunswere thee it is to get some money for his herbes. If thou demaundest why the ryuer runneth so swift, a man wil aunswere thee that his ende is to the sea from whence it came. If thou de­maundest why the trees budde in the spring time, they will aunswere, to the ende they may beare frute in haruest. If we see a trauayler passe the moun­taines in the snow, the ryuers with perill, the woodes in feare, to walke in extreme heate in sommer, to wander in the night time in the colde wynter, & if by chaunce a man doth aske one of them saiyng: frend whether goest thou? wherfore takest thou such paines? and he aunswereth truly syr I know no more then you to what ende, neither can I tell why I take so much paines. I aske thee now what would a wyse man aunswere to this innocent tra­uayler? Truly (hearing no more) he would iudge him to be a foole: for he is muche infortunate, that for all his trauaile loketh for no rewarde. Therfore to our matter, a prince which is begottē as an other man, borne as an other man, lyueth as an other man, dieth as an other man, and besides al this com­maundeth all men, if of suche one we should demaunde why god gaue him signory, and that he should answere he knoweth not, but that he was borne vnto it, in such case let euery man iudge, how vnworthy suche a kyng is to haue such authorie. For it is vnpossible for a man to minister iustice, vnlesse he knowe before what iustice meaneth. Let princes and noble men heare this worde, and let them imprinte it in their memory, whiche is, that when the liuing god determined to make kinges and lordes in this worlde, he did not ordeyne theym to eate more then others, to drynke more then others, to sleape more then others, to speake more then others, nor to reioyce more then others: but he created them vpon condition, that sithe he had made them to commaunde more then others, they shoulde be more iuste in their lyues then others. It is a thinge moste vniuste, and in the common wealth very sclaunderous, to see with what authoritie a puissaunt man cōmaun­deth those that be vertuous: and with how much shame, himselfe is bounde [Page] to all vices. I knowe not what lorde he is that dare punishe his subiecte for one onely offence committed, seing him selfe to deserue for euery deede to be chastised. For it is a monsterous thing that a blynd man should take vppon him to leade him that seeth. They demaunded great Cato the Censor, what a king ought to do that he should be beloued, feared, and not despysed, he an­swered. The good prince should be compared to hym that selleth tryacle, who if the poyson hurte hym not, he selleth his triacle well. I meane there­by, that the punyshement is taken in good parte of the people, which is not ministred by the vicious man. For he that maketh the triacle shall neuer be credited, vnlesse the profe of his triacle be openly knowen and tried. I meane that the good lyfe is none other, then a fine triacle to cure the cōmon wealth. And to whome is he more lyke whiche with his tongue blaseth vertues, and imployeth his deades to all vyces: then vnto the man, who in the one hand holdeth poyson to take away lyfe, and in the other tryacle to resiste deathe? To the ende that a lorde be wholy obeyed, it is necessary that all that he cō ­maundeth be obserued firste in his owne persone: for no lorde can nor may withdrawe him selfe from vertuous workes. This was the aunswere that Cato the Censor gaue, whiche in mine opinion was spoken more like a Chri­stian, then any Romaine. When the true god came into the worlde, he im­ployed thirtie yeares onely in workes, and spente but two yeres and a halfe in teaching: For mans harte is perswaded more with the worke he seeketh, then with the worde whiche he hea [...]eth. Those therefore whiche are lordes, let them learne and knowe of him which is the true lorde, and also let prin­ces learne why they are princes: for he is not a Pylot which neuer sayled on the seas. In mine opinion if a prince will know why he is a prince, I would saye to gouerne well his people, to commaunde well, and to mainteyne all in Iustice, and this should not be with wordes to make them afrayde, ney­ther by workes whiche should offende them: but by swete wordes whiche should encourage them, and by the good workes that shoulde edifie them. For the noble and gentle harte can not resiste hym, that with a louynge countenaunce commaundeth. Those whiche wyll rule and make tame fierce and wylde beastes, doe threaten and rebuke them a hundred tymes, before they beate them once: and if they keape them tied, they shewe them sondrie pleasures. So that the wyldenes of the beaste is taken away, onely by the gentyll and pleasaunt vsage of the man. Therefore sithe we haue this experience of brute and sauage beastes (that is to wete) that by their wel doing, and by the gentle handling of them, they voluntarely suffer them selues to be gouerned: muche more experience we reasonable men ought to haue, that is to knowe, that being right and well gouerned, we shoulde hū ­blye and willingly obey our soueraigne lordes. For there is no man so harde harted, but by gentyll vsage will humble him selfe. O princes and noble men. I will tell you in one worde what the lorde oughte to doe, in the gouerne­ment of his commō wealth. Euery prince that hath his mouth full of troth, his handes open to geue rewardes, and his eares stopped to lyes, and his hert open to mercy, such a one is happy, and the realme which hath him may wel be called prosperous, and the people maye call them selues fortunate.

For where as truth, liberalitie, and clemency ruleth in the harte of a prince, [Page 51] there wronges, iniuries, and oppressions doe not reigne. And contrariwyse where the prince hath his harte flesshed in crueltie, his mouthe full of tyran­nies, his handes defyled with bloude, and enclineth his eares to heare lyes, suche a prince is vnhappy, and muche more the people the whiche by suche one is gouerned. For it is vnpossible that there is peace and iustice in the common wealthe, if he whiche gouerneth it, be a louer of lyes, and flatte­rers. In the yere foure hundreth and fourty, before the incarnatiō of Christ, whiche was in the yere .244. of the foundation of Rome, Darius the fourthe being kyng of Persia, and Brutus and Lucius at Rome Counsulles, Thales the great Phylosopher floryshed in Greece, who was prince of the seuen renow­med sages, by the whiche occasion, all the realme of Greece had and recoue­red renowme. For Greece boasted more of the seuen sages whiche they had, then Rome did of all the valiaunt captaines whiche she nouryshed.

There was at that tyme muche contention betwene the Romaynes and the Greekes, for so muche as the Greekes sayde they were better, because they had mo sages, and the Romaines sayde the contrary that they were better, because they had alwayes mo armies. The Greekes replied againe that there were no lawes made but in Grece. And the Romaines to this an­swered, that though they were made in Greece, yet they were obserued at Rome. The Greekes sayde, that they had great vniuersities to make wyse men in. And the Romaines sayde they had many great temples to worship their Gods in: for that in the ende they oughte to esteme more one seruice done to the immortall goddes: then all the other commodities that myghte come vnto men. A Thebane knight was demaunded, what he thoughte of Rome and Greece? and he aunswered, me thynkes the Romaines are no better then the Greekes, nor the Greekes than the Romaines. For the Gree­kes glorie in their tongues, and the Romaines in their lances. But we re­ferre it to vertuous workes. For one good worke is more worth, then either the longe staues of the Romaines, or the eloquent tongues of the Greekes. Therefore touching my matter, this philosopher Thales was the firste that founde the pole (called the north starre) to sayle by, and the firste that founde the deuision of the yeares, the quantitie of the Sonne and the Moone, and the firste that sayde soules were immortall, and that the worlde had a soule. And aboue all he would neuer mary, for the care to content the wyfe, and the thought to brynge vp the children, doth muche dull the wyttes of wyse men. This philosopher Thales was very poore, wherefore (some disdayninge hym for his pouertie) to declare and shewe that he was more ryche then all they, he bought the next yeare all the Olyues he coulde get: for by Astrono­mie he knewe that in the thirde yeare there woulde be a great wante and scarsitie thereof throughout all the countrey. Wherefore all were compelled to come to him for Oliues, whiche at his owne price he solde: and in this sorte he shewed them that mocked him, that he wyllingly despysed ryches, and louingly imbraced pouertie. For he that willingly in this world is poore ought not to be called poore. This philosopher Thales was a mirror amōgst the sages of Grece, & was greatly reuerenced of all the kinges of Asia, & high­lye renowmed in Rome. And further he was so wise and had so redy a wit, that to all sodaine questions he was demaunded, he gaue present aunswere [Page] furthwith: which thing declared him to be of a marueilous wytte, and tru­ly it was a great matter. For the most parte of mortal men can not tel how to aunswere, nor what to demaunde. Many and diuerse questiōs we asked him, as Diogenes Laertius affirmeth, in the answering wherof he shewed great wysedome, the treasure of memory, and subtiltie of vnderstanding.

First he was asked what god was, Thales answered: of all the most anti­quities God is the moste auncient thing. For all the auncientes past neither sawe him take beginning, nor those which shal come shal se him haue ending

Secondarily he was asked what thing was moste beautiful, he aunswe­red the worlde: because no artificiall painting could make the like.

Thirdly he was asked what was the greatest thing, to that he aunswe­red, place, wherein all thinges doe stande. For the place whiche conteineth all, of necessitie must be greater then all.

Fourthly it was asked him who knoweth moste, he aunswereth: that no man was wyser then tyme, because tyme alwayes onelye inuented newe thinges, and is he whiche renueth the olde.

Fiftly they asked him, what was the lightest thinge, he aunswered: the wytte of man, because that without trauayle and daungers it passeth the sea, to discouer and compasse all the whole earth.

Sixtly they asked hym, what was the strongest thing, he sayde: the man that is in necessitie, for necessitie reuiueth the vnderstanding of the rude, and causeth the cowarde to be hardy in peryll.

Seuenthly they asked him, what was the hardest thing to knowe, he an­swered: for man to know him selfe, for there should be no contentions in the worlde if man knewe him selfe.

Eightly they asked him, what thing was swetest to obteine, he aunswe­red: desire, for the man reioyseth to remembre the paines past, and to obtaine to that whiche he desyreth present.

Ninthly they asked him, when the enuious man is quiet, he aunswered: when he seeth his enemy dead or vtterly vndone. For truly the prosperitie of the enemy is a sharpe knife to the enuious harte.

Tenthly he was asked, what mā shuld do to liue vprightly, he answered: to take y^e coūcel to him self, which he geueth to an other. For y^e vndoing of al men is, that they haue plenty of councell for others, & want for them selues.

The eleuenth question was, they asked him what profite he hath that is not couetous, wherunto he answered: that such a one is deliuered from the tormentes of his auarice, and besides that he recouereth frendes for his per­sone: for ryches tormenteth the auaricions because he spendeth them not.

The .xii. they asked him what the prince should doe to gouerne others, he answered: he ought firste to gouerne him selfe, and then afterwardes to go­uerne others. For it is vnpossible the rodde should be right, wher the shadow is croked. By the occasion of this last aunswere I did bring in here all these questions, to the end princes and rulers might see, how that euery one of thē is as the rod of iustice, and that the common wealth is none other but a sha­dowe of them, which in al, and for all ought to be right. For immediatly it is perceiued in the shadowe of the common wealth, if the iustice or lyfe of him whiche gouerneth be out of his order. Therefore concluding all that I haue spoken before, if a prince would aske me why he is a prince, I would tel him [Page 52] in one word only, that he which is the highe prince hath made you a prince in this world, to the end you should be a distroyer of heretykes, a father of orphanes, a frend of sages, a hater of malicyous, a scourge of tirauntes, a re­warder of good, a defender and protector of Churches, a plague of the wic­ked, a onely louer and frend of the common wealth, and aboue al you ought to be an vpright mynister of iustice: beginning first with your parson & pal­lace, for in all thinges amendment is suffered, except in iustice, which ought to be equal betwene the prince and the common wealth.

¶What Plutarch the Philosopher was. Of the wise words he spake to Trai­an the Emperoure, And howe the good Prince is the head of the publike weale. Cap. xxxvi.

IN the time of Traian the Emperour, ther flourished in his court a Philosopher named Plutarch, a man very pure, and of good lyfe, wise in science, & wel estemed in Rome. For Traian the Emperour desyred greatlye to haue wyse men in his company, and to make notable and sumptuous buildings in euery place wher he came, It is he which wrote the lyues of many noble Grekes and Romaynes, and aboue all he made a booke entytuled the doc­trine of Prynces, whych he offered to the Emperour Traian, in the which he sheweth his vertues, the zeale which he had to the common wealth, y^e high­nes of his eloquence: and the profoundnesse of his knowledge. For he was elegant in writing, and pleasaunt in speakyng, and among all other thinges which he wrote in his booke, were these wordes folowing, worthy to be no­ted, and written in golden letters: and they are such. I let the to wete Lord Traian, that thou and the Empire are but one misticall bodye, in maner and fourme of a liuely body, for they ought to be so agreable, that the Emperour should reioyce to haue such subiectes, and the Empyre ought to be glade to haue such a Lord. And to the end we may describe the mistical body, which is the Empire in the fourme and shape of an natural man, you shal vnder­stand that the head which is aboue al, is the prince which commaundeth al: the eyes wherby we se, are the good men in the commonwealth whom we folow: the eares that heare what we say, are the subiects which do what we commaund them: the tongue wherwith we speake, are the sages of whom we here the lawes & doctrines: the heeres which groweth on our heads, are those which are vexed & greued, and that demaund iustice of the kinge: the hands & the armes, are the knightes which resist the enemyes: y^e feete which susteineth the membres, are the tillers of the ground which geueth meate to al estates: the hard bones that susteineth the feble & soft flesh, are the sage mē which endure the trauaile of the common wealthe: the harts which we see not outwardly, are the priuye councellours: Finally the necke that knitteth the bodye with the head, is the loue of the kinge and of the Realme, whiche make a common wealth. All the wordes aboue named spake Plutarche the greate, to Traian the Emperoure. And trulye the inuencion and grace of him, proceaded of a hygh and deape vnderstanding: for the heade hath thre properties, whiche are verye necessarye for the gouernoure of the common wealth. The first is, that euen as the head is of al other members of the bo­dy y^e hyghest: so the aucthoritie of the prince, exceadeth y^e estates of al others. For the prince only hath aucthoritie to commaund, and al others are bound to obey. Admyt therbe many stout, rich, & noble men in the comon wealth: [Page] yet al ought to know and acknowledge seruice to the Lord of the same. For the noble and worthy princes, do dayly ease many of dyuerse seruices, but they wil neuer except anye from their loyaltie, and allegeaunce. Those which are valiaunt, and mightie in a Realme, should contente themselues with that, wherwith the battilments doe vpon a castel, (that is to wete) that they are higher then the rampers wherin men walke on the walles, and lower then the pinakelles which are in the toppe. For the wise man of highe estate, ought not to regard the prince which is the highe pinacle, but ought to loke on the alleys which are the poore comfortles. I would speake a worde and it greueth me (that is) wheras great lordes desire in the common wealthe to commaund, is like vnto him that holdeth his armes and handes ouer his head. For al that I haue herde, and for all that I haue redde, and also for al that hath chaunced in my time, I counsell, admonishe, and warne all those which shal come after this time, that if they wil enioy their goodes, if they will liue in safegard, and if they wil be deliuered from tirannye, and liue quiete in the common wealth, that they do not agre to haue in one realme, aboue one king, and one lord. For it a general rule, where there are manye rulers in a common wealth, in the end both it and al must perishe. We se by experience, that nature fourmed vs with many synewes, many bones, with muche fleshe, with many fingers, and with many teeth, and to all this one onely body had but one head, wherfore though with many estates the com­mon wealth is ordained: yet with one prince alone it ought to be ruled, If it consisted in mens handes to make a prince, they would then also haue the auctoritie to put him downe: but being true, as it is most true in dede, that the prince is constituted by God, none but god alone oughte to depriue and depose him of his estate, but thinges that are measured by the deuine iudge­ment, man hath no power with rasor to cut them. I know not what ambi­cion the meane can haue, neyther what enuie the lowest can haue, nor what pride the highest can haue, to commaund, and not to obey, since we are sure, that in this misticall bodye of the common wealth he which is most worth, shalbe no more estemed: then the fingers or paringe of the nayles, or the fal­ling of an heere from the heade, Let euery man therefore liue in peace in his common wealth, and acknowledge obedience vnto his prince: & he that wil not do so, away with him: for euen as the onely offence procedeth of hym, so let the only paine rest vpon him. For it is an old saying, that he that taketh vp the sworde againste his maister, wil shortlye after lay his heade at his feete. The seconde condicion is, to compare the kinge to the hed, because the hed is the beginning of mans life. The moste part of thinges that euer god created, accordinge to their natures worke their operacions, as in growing highe, and towardes the heauens. We se the vapors ascend high, the plantes groweth highe, the trees budde out on height, the sourges of the sea mount highe, and the nature of fier is alwayes to ascend and mount on highe, on­ly the miserable man groweth downeward and is brought low by reasone of the feble and fraile flesh, which is but earth and commeth of earth, and liueth on earth: & in the end returneth to earth againe from whēce he came. Aristotle saith well, that man is but a tre planted with the rootes vpward, whose roote is the head, and the stocke is the bodye, the braunches are the [Page 53] armes, the barcke is the flesh, the knottes are the bones, the sappe is y^e hart, the rottennes is malice, the gumme is loue, the flowers are words, and the frutes are the good workes. To make the man to go vprightlye, his heade should be wher his feete are, and the feete wher the head is, syth the head is the roote, & the feete are the bowes: but in this case I sweare, that we are, correspondaunte to our beginning, for if our fleshe be planted contrarywise, so much more contrary we haue our life ordered. Therfore concerning our matter I say, that the Realme hath no lesse his beginning of the kinge, then the kinge of the realme: whiche thinge is plainlye seene, for that the king gi­ueth lawes and institucions to a Realme, and not the Realme to the kyng. The giftes and benefites which the king geueth, commeth to the Realme, & not from the realme to the king. To inuent warres, to take trewse, to make peace, to reward the good, and to punish the euyl, proceadeth from the king to the Realme, and not to the contrary. For it apperteineth onlye to the ma­iestie of a prince, to commaund and ordeine: and to the common wealth to autorise and obey him. As in a great sumptuous bylding it is more daunge­rous, wher one stone of the foundacion doth fall, then when .x. thousand ty­les faule from the top: so he ought more to be blamed for onely disobedience commytted and done to the king, and his iustice, then for fiue thousand of­fences against the common wealth. For we haue sene of a lytle disobedience, a great slaunder aryse in a common wealthe. O it is a goodly matter for a prince to be beloued of his subiectes, and a goodly thing also for the realme to be feareful of their king. For the king that is not loued of his subiectes, can­not liue in peace nor quyet: and the realme that is not feareful of their king, can not be wel gouerned. The realme Sicilia had alwayes mightye Princes and gouernours: for in auncient time it was gouerned by vertuous princes, or els by cruel & malicious tirauntes. In the time of Senerus the Emperour, ther reigned in Cecil, a king called Lelius Pius, who had so many good things in him, that throughout al the empire he was very wel estemed, and chiefly for foure lawes amongeste others hee ordayned in that Realme, whiche were these folowing.

We ordaine, that if amongeste equall persones there bee anye iniuries offered, that they be punished, or els that they be dissembled: for wher enuye is roted betwene two, it profiteth more to reconsile their good willes, then to punish their persones. We ordaine that if the greatest be offended by the least, that such offence be litle reproued, & wel punished: for the audacite & litle shame, & also the disobedience of the seruaunt to y^e maister, ought not to be re­formed, but by greuous punishment. We ordaine, that if any resist or speake against the comaundement of a prince, that presently (without delay) he suffer death before them al: for they may boldly by the way of supplycacion, reue­rently declare their grieffes, and not by slaunder rebellyously dysobeye their lordes. We ordaine, that if anye rayse the common wealthe agaynste the Prince, hee that canne fyrste strycke of hys heade, maye lawefullye wythe oute fearynge anye daunger of punyshemente: for hys heade is iuste­lye taken frome hym, that woulde there shoulde be manye heades in the common wealthe. Of all this before spoken, Herianus is the authoure, in hys fourthe booke of the kynges of Sicille where hee putteth manye and [Page] singuler lawes and customes which the auncientes had to the great confu­sion of these that be present. For truly the auncientes did not onlye exceade these that be present in their workes and doings: but also in speaking pro­found wordes. Therfore returning to our matter, mans life greatly trauai­leth alwayes to defend the head, in such sort that a man would rather suffer his hand to be cut of, then to suffer a wound to be made in his head. By this comparison I meane that a fault in a common wealth, is a cut, which can­kereth & festereth, but the disobedyence to a prince is a wound which forth­with killeth. Yf a man did aske me what vnion princes shoulde haue with their common wealth, I would answere them in this sort, that the wealth of the king & realme consisteth herein. That the king shold accompany w^t the good, & bannishe the euil. For it is vnpossible that y^e king should be beloued of the common wealth, if the companye he hath about him be reputed vicious. He should also loue his Realme without dissymulacion, & the realme should serue him vnfainedly: for the common wealth, which knoweth it to be be­loued of their Prince, shal not find any thing to hard for his seruice. Further that the kinge vse his subiectes as his children, and that the subiectes serue him as a father: for generallye the good father can not suffer his children to be in daunger, neyther the good children wil dissobeye their father. Also the king ought to be iust in his commaundementes, and the subiectes faithful. For if it be a good thinge in their seruices, to liue vnder a iust law, it is much better to lyue vnder a iust king. Also the king ought to defende his subiectes from enemies, & they ought wel to pay him his tribute: for y^e Prince who defended his people from enemyes and tirannye worthely deserueth to be lord of al their goodes. Also the king ought to kepe his common wealth in quiet, and ought not to be presumptous of his persone: so the prince whych is not feared & wel estemed, shal neuer be obeyed in his commaundement. Finally I say, that the good king ought to do his Realme pleasure, and the faithfull subiectes ought to endeuour them selues neuer to displease their kinge. For that prince cannot be called vnfortunate, who of his common wealthe, is loued and obeyed.

¶As there are two sences in the head, smelling and hering: So likewise the prince whiche is the heade of the common weale oughte to here the com­plaintes of al his subiectes, and should knowe them al, to recompence their seruices. Cap. xxxvii.

WE haue shewed, how the prince is the common wealthe, and nowe we wil let you vnderstand another notable thing, which is this: that as all sences are in the heade, so oughte all estates to be in princes. For the verues which are in many spred and skattered: should be in one prince founde and gathered. The office of the feete is not to se, but to goe: the handes office is not to heare, but to labour: the shoulders not to feele, but to beare: all these offices are not semely for the membres, which are his subiectes, but apper­teineth to the king alone to exercise them. For the head to haue eyes, and no other members, meaneth nought els, but that onlye to the prince, and to none other, apparteyneth to know all: for Iulius Cesar knewe all those of his host, and named them by their proper names. I counsel, and admonishe you, O you princes, which shal heare, see, or read this thing, that you do reioyce to [Page 54] visite, and to be visited, to see, & to be sene: to talke, & to be talked with: for the thinges whych wyth your eyes you se not you cannot perfectly loue. A man ought also to know, that the head only hath eares, to note, that to the king, and to none other, apperteyneth to here all, and to kepe the gates open for them that haue any sewtes: for it is no small matter to a common wealth, to haue and obtaine of the prince easye audyence. Helius Spartiahus commen­deth highly Traian the Emperour, that when he was on horsebacke to go to the warres, alyghted againe to here the complainte of a poore Romaine, which thing was meruelously noted amongest al the Romaines: for if men were not vaine, they should geue a Prince more honoure for one worke of iustice, then for the victorye of many battayles. Truly to a king it is no plea­sure, but rather paine and griefe, and also for the common people auoyaunce, that the prince alwayes should be enclosed and shut vp. For the prince which shutteth hys gates agaynste his subiectes, causeth theym not to open there hartes wyllynglye to obey hym. How many and great slaunders doth their arise in the common wealth, only for that the prince somtime wil not speake. Iulius Cesar was Emperoure, and the heade of all the empyre, and because he was musing of weighty matters, & would not herken to him which would haue reueled the treason conspired agaynst him, was that same day with .33. wondes in the Senate murdered. The contrarye is red of Marcus Aurelius the Emperoure, who was so famyliar with all men, that howbeit he was chiefe of al, and that the affaires which now are deuided to many, depended then only of hym: yet he neuer had porter of his gate, nor chamberlayne of hys chamber, and for any affaires that euer he had to do with manye men (were they neuer so great) he was neuer longer then one daye about them. For trulye (if I may say it) that prynce is not worthy to be beloued, that is scarse of hys wordes vnto those, whych faythfully serue hym with workes: for wyse prynces should be quicke in hearing, and graue in determining. For many come to speake wyth princes, which thinke that their counselles shal not be accepted, nor their requestes graunted, yet they desire importunately to be hard, & of trouth the prince ought to here them, for the heuy hart with sorowes burdened, when it is heard, is greatly lightned, I wold know why the sence of smellynge is only in the head, and not in the feete, nor in the han­des, neyther in any other part of the body? truly it signifyeth nought els, but that it apperteineth to the Prince (which is head of al) to here and know al, & therfore it is necessarye he be informed of all their lyues. For the prynce can­not gouerne his common wealth well, vnlesse he knoweth the perticulari­ties therof. It is necessarye that the prince knowe the good, to the ende he may prefarre them: for that common wealth is greatly slaundered, wherin the euyll are not punished, nor the good honoured. It is necessary the prynce know the sage, to counsel with them: for the auncyente Romaynes neuer admitted any for councellours but those which w^t philosophy wer adorned. It is necessary he know the euyl for to correct them: for ther is a great disor­der in that common wealth, wher without any shame the wickednes of the wycked, is cloked and vnpunyshed. It is necessarye the prynce doe know those that are able to teache: for in the court of the Romayne princes, there were alwayes captaines, which taught & shewed how to handel their wea­pons, [Page] and wise men which taught & instructed them scienses. It is necessa­rie the prince know the poore of his realme, for to ayde and succor them: for the princes should so gouerne their common wealth, that amonge the riche nothing should abound, nor among the poore any thing should want. It is necessarie y^e prince know the presumptuous, & malicious, for to humble them: for the poore by enuye, and the rich by pride, heretofore haue destroyed great common wealthes. It is necessarie the prince know the peace kepers, for to kepe and maintaine theim in peace: for it is the deutye of a prince, to plucke downe the stout stomackes of the proude, and to giue winges of fauour to the humble. It is necessary that the prince know them which haue done him seruice, to the end they may be rewarded according to their merites: for the stout and noble hart for litel fauoure shewed vnto him, bindeth himselfe to accomplishe great thinges. It is necessarie the prince knowe the noble men of his realme, to the end that at time of neade, he mighte retaine and take them into his seruice: for it is but mete, that the man which is adorned with vertue, and nobilitie, be preferred aboue all other in the common wealthe. Finally I say, y^e prince should know the murmerers, neuer to creadite them: and likewise to know those that tell the truth, alwayes to loue them. For none should be more familyar, then the wise man to gyue him counsell, and the vpright man to tel the truth. And contrarywise none ought to be more abhorred of the prince, then the flatterer, and ignoraunt man. O how neces­sarie it is for a prince, to know and vnderstand all things in his Realme, to thend no man mighte deceiue him, as they do now a dayes. For the moste part of princes are deceiued, for none other cause, but for that they wyll not be councelled, and informed by wise & discrete men. For many croutche vn­to princes with faire words (as though they ment him good seruice) but their entent is contrarie, by dysceite to get an office, and seke their owne profite. Helius Spartianus saith, that Alexander Seuerus (the xxv. Emperoure of Rome) was a man very stout, and vertuous, and amongest all other thinges they greatly commended him, because in his chamber he had a famyliar booke, wherin he had wryten all the nobles of his Realme, and Empire, and when any office was voide, they sayd nothinge els to him but that it was voide: for the Emperour did not graunt it to him that sought it, but (by the secrete informacion of hys booke) to him that deserued it. I wyl sweare, and all o­ther princes shal affirme the same, that thoughe they erre in dystributynge their offices, they do not erre for that they would erre. Yet they cannot de­nye but that they erre greuously, for that they wil not be informed, & though they be informed, yet it were better they were not informed at al: for he shal neuer geue the Prince good nor parfect counsel, whych (by that counsel) in­tendeth to haue some proper interest, The chiefest thynge of Prynces is to know how to chose the best in prosperytye, and how to auoyde the worste in aduersytye, and to know also how to rewarde the good men lyberallye. And truly in thys case Prynces should haue more consideracyon to them, which haue done them worthy seruyce, then to the importunytyes of hys famyliar frendes: for he shal thanke the seruaunt that procureth it, but not the Prynce that geueth it. Al that we speake is to no other purpose, but to perswade, that syth the prince is Lord of al, it is reason that he be informed [Page 55] of the state and condicion of al. For otherwise he shalbe disceyued by a thou­sand malicious harts, which are in y^e common wealth. Therfore to conclude I say if the prince be not informed of the life of al, the skinne wil seame fleshe, the braine meate, the straw corne, the brasse gold, the gaull hony, & the dreg­ges good wine, I meane in deuyding his offices, thinking to hit the white, he shal ofttymes mysse the butte.

¶Of the great feast the Romaynes celebrated to the god Ianus the first day of Ianuarye, and of the bountye and liberalitye of the Emperoure Marcus Aurelius the same daye. Cap. xxxviii.

AMonge the Solempne Feastes whych the auncient Romaynes vsed, this was one to the God Ianus, the which they celebrated the first daye of the yere, which now is the firste of Ianuarye: for the Hebrues be­ganne their yeare in March, and the Romaynes beganne at Ianuarye. The Romaynes painted this GOD with two faces, sygnyfyenge therby the end of the yeare past, and the beginning of the yeare present. To this god Ianus was dedicated in the cytie of Rome a sumptous Temple whiche they called the Temple of peace, and was in great reuerence throughout all the citye: for the citezens on this daye offered greate giftes and sacrifices be­cause he should defend them from their enemyes. For there is no nacion nor people to whom warre euer succeded so prosperouslye, but that they had ra­ther lyue in peace then in warre. When the Romaine Emperours wente to the warres or came from the warres, first they vysited the Temple of Iupi­ter, secondarilye the Temple of the vestall virgins, and thirdely they vysited the Temple of the God Ianus: bycause there was a law in Rome that the Emperour should at his going forth to the warres vysite the Temple of Iu­piter last of al, and at his retourne againe, the Temple of Ianus first. And let them that be desierous of antiquities here know, that when the Emperour should go to the warres, in the Temple of the goddesse Vesta they put vpon his shoulders the royall mantell, and in the Temple of Iupiter al the senators kissed his foote, and in the Temple of Ianus the Consuls kissed his arme. For since the time that the cruell Sylla, caused thre thousand neighbours to dye which kissed his right hand, they neuer after kissed the handes of any Em­perour in Rome. Therfore sith the gentyles woulde not issue out of Rome before that first they had taken the benediction of those vaine Gods: how muche more ought Christian Princes to do it, which know well that their Temples are consecrated to the true God, and ordayned for his seruice only. For the man that forgetteth God, and commytteth his affaires to men, shal see how his busines wil thriue in the handes of men. Therefore procedinge forth, the day wherin the feast of the god Ianus was celebrated, euery man left his worke & reioysed through al the streates of Rome, no more then lesse then in the feastes of Iupiter, Mars, Venus, and Berecinthia: For the feastes of the other goddes (sith they were many in nomber) were not celebrated, but in certaine places in Rome. The Romaynes on that day put on their beste apparell, for they had a custome in Rome, that he whych had not that daye chaunge of apparell to honoure the feaste, should eyther go out of Rome or els kepe themselues locked in his house. That daye, they set on their houses [Page] many lyghtes, and made greate bondfiers before their dores, and had son­dry and many playes, and pastimes, for the feastes of vaine men are more to delight their bodies, then to reforme their minds. They watched al the night in the Temples, and also they deliuered all the prisoners which were inpri­soned for dette, and with the common treasures paied their dettes. Further­more they had a custome in Rome, that they shoulde susteine all the Sena­tours (whiche were fallen into pouertie) with the goodes of the common wealthe. They had that daye tables set before their dores, furnished with all sortes of meates, so that that whiche remayned and was left, was more worth: then that which was eaten. For vaine glorious men, auaunt theym selues more of that, which in bankettes and feastes is left, then they do of that whyche is eaten. They sought all that day for poore men, bycause they shoulde be prouyded of all things. For it was an auncient lawe, that none should be so hardy to make any open feast, excepte first he had prouided for all them of his streate. The Romaynes thought that if they spend lyberallye that day, the god Ianus would deliuer them from pouertye, because he was the God of the temperall goodes. And they sayde further, that the GOD Ianus was a God very thankeful, & acknowledged the seruyces whych were donne vnto hym, and beleued earnestlye that if they spente frelye for hys sake, he woulde requyte it doble In the feaste of this God Ianus manye pro­cessions were made, not all togethers, but the Senate wente by theym selues, the Censours by them selues, the people by them selues, the Matro­nes by theym selues, the maydens by them selues, the vestal virgins by them selues, & al the straunge Imbassadours went wyth the captiues in processi­on. There was a custome in Rome, that the same day the Emperour should were the imperyal robe, al the captiues which could touche him with their hands were delyuered, and all the transgressours pardoned, the exules and outlawryes were called againe. For the Romayne princes were neuer pre­sente in any feast, but they shewed some noble example of mercy, or gentle­nes towardes the people. At this time Marcus Aurelius was Emperoure of Rome, and maried with the beautiful lady Faustina, who (in the feast of Ianus) leuing in procession the company of the Senatours came into the procession of the captiues, the which easelye touched his robe, wherby they obtained ly­bertie the which they so greatly desired: I say desired for truly the captiue is contented with a small thinge. And because ther is no good thing by anye good man done, but immediatlye by the wycked it is repined at, this deede was so contrary to the euyl, as ioyfull to the good. For there is nothing, be it neuer so good, nor so wel done, but forthwith it shalbe contraried of them that be euyl.

Of this thing I haue sene by experience (in this miserable life: sondry exam­ples) y^t euen as amonge the good one only is noted to be chiefe: so lykewise amonge the euyll one is noted principall aboue the rest. And the worst I find herein is, that the vertuous do not so much glory of their vertue: as the e­uil and malicious hath shame and dishonour of their vyce: for vertue natu­rally makleth a man to be temperate and quyet, but vice maketh him to be dissolute and rechlesse. This is spoken, because in the Senate of Rome there was a Senatour called Fuluius, whose berd & heeres wer very white, but in [Page 56] malyce, he was most cankered blacke: so that for his yeres he was honou­red in Rome of many, & for his malyce he was hated of al. The Senatour Fuluius made frendes in the time of Adrian to succede in the empire, and for this cause he had alwayes Marcus Aurelius for his competytour, and wherso­euer he came he alwayes spake euyll of him as of his mortall enemye. For the enuyous hart can neuer geue a man one good word. This Senatours hart was so puffed with enuye: that he seing Marcus Aurelius to obtaine the empire being so yong, & that he being so old could not attaine therunto: ther was no good that euer Marcus Aurelius did in the common wealth openly, but it was grudged at by Fuluius, who soughte alwayes to deface the same secretlye. It is the nature of those whiche haue their hartes enfected with malyce, to spitte out their poyson with woordes of spite. Oft times I haue mused which of these 2. are greater, the dewtye the good haue to speake a­gainst the euyl, or els the audacitie the euyl haue to speake against the good. For in the world ther is no brute beast soo hardye, as the euill man is that hath lost his fame. O would to God the good to his desyre had asmuch po­wer to do good workes, as the euyl hath strength to his affection, to exer­cise wicked dedes. For the vertuous man findeth not one hand to helpe him in vertue to worke, yet after he hath wrought it, he shall haue a thousand e­uyl tongues against his honest doynges to speake. I would all those which rede this my writyng, would call to memorye this word (whiche is) that a­mong euyl men the chefest euil is, that after they haue forgotten them selues to be men, and exiled both trouth & reason, then with al their might they go against trouth and vertue, with their woordes, and againste good deedes with their tongues: for though it be euyl to be an euyll man, yet it is muche worse not to suffer an other to be good, which aboue al thinges is to be ab­horred and not to be suffered. I let you wete and assure you, you princes & noble men, that you in working vertuous dedes shal not want slaunderous tongues, and though you be stout, yet you must be pacyente to breake their malyce. For the noble hart fealeth more the enuye of an other, then he doothe the labour of his owne body. Princes should not be dismayde, neither ought they to meruayle, though they be told of the murmuring at their good wor­kes: For in the end they are men, they liue with men, and cannot escape the miseryes of men. For ther was neuer prince in the world yet so high, but he hath bene subiect to malycious tongues. Trulye aman ought to take great pytie of Princes, whether they be good or euyll: for if they be euil, the good hate them: & if they be good, the euyl immediatly murmureth against them. The Emperoure Octauian was very vertuous, yet greatly persecuted with enuyous tongues, whoe on a tyme was demaunded (since he dyd good to al men) why he suffered a few to murmour against him? he aunswered: you se my frends, he that hath made Rome free from enemyes, hath also set at lybertie the tongues of malycious men. For it is not reason that the harde stones should be at libertie, and the tender stones tyed. Truly this Empe­pour Octauian by his wordes declared himselfe to be a wise man, and of a no­ble heart, and lightly to waye both the murmuringes of the people, and also the vanities of their words, which thing truly a wise & vertuous mā ought to do. For it is a general rule, that vices continually seke defendours, and [Page] vertues alwayes getteth Enemyes. In the booke of lawes the deuine Plato saith wel, that the euil were alwayes double euyl▪ because they weare wea­pons defensiue, to defende their malicious purpose: and also cary weapons offensiue, to bleamyshe the good workes of others. Vertuous men ought with much study to folow the good, and with more dilygence to flye from the euil. For a good man maye commaund al other vertuous men, with a becke of his finger, but to kepe himselfe only from one euyl man, he had nede both hands, feete, and frends. Themistocles the Thebaine sayd, that he felt no greater torment in the world then this, that his proper honour should de­pend vpon the Imaginacion of an other: for it is a cruell thinge, that the life and honour of one that is good, should be measured by the tongue of an other that is euyl. For as in the forge, the coles can not be kindled withoute sparkes, nor as corruption can not be in the synckes without ordure: so he that hath his hart fre from malyce, his tongue is occupied alwaies in swete and pleasaunt communication. And contrary wise, out of his mouth, whose stomacke is infected with malyce, proceadeth always wordes bitter, & full of poyson. For if out of a rotten fornayse y^e fyre burneth it is impossible that the smoke should be cleare. It is but a smal time, that (in prophane loue) he that is enamored, is able to refraine his loue, and muche lesse time is the wrathfull man able to hyde his wrath. For the heuy sighes are tokens of the sorowful hart, and the words are those that disclose the malycious man. Pu­lio sayth in the first booke of Cesars, that the Emperoure Marcus Aurelius was very vertuous in all his workes, sage in knowledge, iuste in Iudgement, mercifull in punishment, but aboue all thinges he was wise in dissemblyng, & herein he was very discrete: for ther was neuer pacyent man but prospered wel in all his affayres. We se that throughe pacience and wisedome, many e­uyl thinges become reasonable, and from reasonable are brought to good, & from good to excellent. The contrary happeneth to them y^e are moued more then they nede, for the man which is not paciēt, loketh not yet for any good successe in his affayres, though they are iust. The Emperour Marcus ofttimes was wont to say, that Iulius Cesar wanne the empire by the sweard, Augustus was Emperour by Inheritaunce, Caligula came to it, because his father con­quered Germany, Nero gouerned it with tyranny, Titus was Emperour, for that he subdued Iuery, the good Traian came to the empire by his clemency & vertue, but I (sayth he) obtained the empire through pacience only. For it is a greater pacience, to suffer the Iniuries of the malicious: then to dispute with the sage in the vniuersity. And this Emperour saide further in the go­uernement of the empire, I haue profited more throughe pacience, then by science: for science only profiteth for the quyetnes of the parson, but pacyence profiteth the parson, & the common wealthe. Iulius Capitolinus sayth, that the Emperour Antonius Pius was a prince very pacyent, & in such sort, that often­tymes being in the Senate, he saw both those which loued him, & also those that were against him with the people when they did rebel: yet his pacience was so great, that neyther his frends for the vnthankfulnes of them selues, remayned sad: neither his enemyes for any displeasure by him done did at any time cōplaine. Meaning therfore in this chapter to ioyne y^e end w^t the beginning▪ I say that as the Emperor Marcus Aurelius put himselfe amongest y^t [Page 57] captyues, & that this dede in Rome of al men was commended: the Sena­tour Fuluius could not refraine from speaking, for that he had not the wit to endure it, wherfore as it were scoffing he spake these wordes to the Empe­rour. Lord I meruayle why thou yeldest thy selfe to al, which thing for the reputacion of the Empyre cannot be suffered, for that it is not decent for thy maiestie. The Emperour Marcus Aurelius seing and hearing that in the pre­sent of them all, the senatour Fuluius spake vnto him these wordes, he toke it paciently and with pleasaunt countenaunce sayd. The questions the Se­natour Euluius proponeth, let it be for to morow, because my aunswere may be the ryper, and his coller the quieter. Therfore the next day folowing, the Emperour Marcus came into the hyghe capitoll (as Pulio declareth in the life of Marcus Aurelius) and spake these words.

¶Of the aunswere the Emperour Marcus Aurelius made to the Senatour Fuluius before al the Senate, being reproued of him for his familiaritie he vsed to al, contrary to the maiestye and authoritie of the Romayne Em­perour, wherin he paynteth enuious men. Cap. xxxix.

FAthers conscript, and sacred Senat, I wold not yester daye aunswere to that that the Senatour Fuluius spake vnto me, because it was some­what late, and for that we were long in sacrifices, I thought that ney­ther time nor place was conueniēt to aunswere therunto. For it is a signe of a lytle wisedome, & of great folye, for a man to aunswere sodainly to euerye question. The libertie that vndiscret men haue to demaunde, the selfe same priuiledge hath the sage for to aunswere: For though the demaund procede of ignoraunce, yet the aunswere oughte to procede of wysedome. Trulye wise men were wel at ease, if to euery demaund they shoulde aunswere the simple and malicious: who (for the most part) demaund more to vexe other men, then for to profyte themselues, more for to proue, than to know, wher­fore wise men ought to dissemble at such demaundes. For the sages oughte to haue their eares open to heare, and their tongue tyed because they should not speake. I let you know (auncyent fathers, & sacred senate) that the lytle whyche I knowe, I learned in the yle of Rhodes, in Naples, in Capua, and in Tharente. And al tutors told me, that the Intencion and end of men to study, was only to know to gouerne them selues amongest the malicious. For scy­ence profiteth nothing els, but to know how to kepe his lyfe wel ordered, & his tongue wel measured. Therfore I protest to god that which I will say before your sacred presēce, I wil not speake it of any malice or ill wil: but on­ly to aunswere vnto that which toucheth the auctoritie of my person. For the thynges which touch the honour, ought first by word to be aunswered, & afterwards by sword to be reuenged. Therfore now beginning my matter, & addressing my words to the Fuluius, and to that which thou spakest vnto me, asking why I shew my selfe so to all men, I aunswere the. It is because al men shold giue themselues to me. Thou knowest wel Fuluius, that I haue bene a Consul as thou art, and thou hast not bene an Emperour as I am. Therfore beleue me in thys case, that the prince being dispised, cānot be belo­ued of hys people. The gods wil not, nor the lawes do permyte, neyther the common wealth wyllyngly should suffer, that al princes should be lordes of many, and that they should not communicate but with a few. For princes [Page] which haue bene gentile in their lyues, the auncients haue made them gods after their deathes. The fisher, to fish for many fishes in the riuer, goeth not with one bote alone, nor the Mariner to fish in the depe sea, goeth with one net only. I meane, that the profounde willes, which are deepely enclosed in the hartes, oughte to be wonne some by giftes, other by promises, other by pleasaunt words, and others by gentle enterteynement, For princes should trauaile more to winne the hartes of their subiectes, then to conquere the Realmes of straungers. The gredy and couetous hartes care not, thoughe the prince shutteth vp his hart, so that he open his cofers: but noble and va­liaunt men litle esteme that which they locke vp in their cofers, so that their hartes be open to their frendes. For loue can neuer but with loue againe be requited. Sith Princes are lords of many, of necessitie they ought to be ser­ued with many: & being serued with many, they are bound to satisfie many: and this is as generally, as perticulerly, they cannot dispence with their ser­uaunts. For the prince is no lesse bound to pay the seruice of his seruaunte, then the maister is to pay the wages of the hired laborer. Therefore if thys thing be true (as it is) how shal poore princes do, which kepe many Realmes, & in keping them they haue great expenses, and for to pay such charges they haue lytle money. For in this case, let euery man do what he will, and let them take what counsaile they like best, I would counsaile all others, as I my selfe haue experimented, that is: that the prince shold be of so good a con­uersacion, among those which are his, and so affable and familiar with all, that for his good conuersacion only they should thinke them selues wel paid. For with rewardes, princes recompence the trauaile of their seruantes: but with gentle wordes, they robbe the hartes of their subiectes. We se by expe­rience, that diuers marchauntes had rather by dearer in one shoppe, because the marchaunt is pleasaunte: then to [...]ye better chepe in an other, wheras the marchaunt is churlishe. I meane that there are many, which had rather serue a prince, to gaine nothing but loue only: thā to serue an other prince for money. For there is no seruice better imployed, then to him which is honest, good, and gracious: and to the contrary none worse bestowed, then on hym which is vnthankfull and churlyshe. In princes pallaces there shall neuer want euil and wicked men, malicious & deuelishe flatterers, which wil seke meanes to put into their Lords heades howe they shall rayse their rentes, leauye subsidies, inuent tributes, and borow money: but there are none that wil tel them, how they shal winne the hartes and good willes of their sub­iectes, though they know it more profitable to be wel beloued, then necessa­rie to be enriched. He that heapeth treasure for his prince, and seperateth him from the loue of his people: ought not to be called a faithfull seruaunt, but a mortall enemy. Princes and Lordes ought greatly to endeuour themselues to be so conuersant among their subiects, that they had rather serue for good wil: then for the payment of money. For if moneye wante, their seruice will quaile, and hereof procedeth a thousand inconueniences vnto princes, which neuer happen vnto those that haue seruauntes, whiche serue more of good wil then for moneye: for he that loueth with al his harte, is not proude in prosperitie, desperate in aduersitie, neither complayneth he of pouertie, nor is discontented being fauourlesse, nor yet abashed with persecution, & finallye [Page 58] loue and life are neuer seperated, vntill they come vnto the graue. We see by experience, that the rablemēt of the poore labourers of Scicil is more worth, then the money of the knightes of Rome. For the labourer euery time he go­eth to the fielde, bringeth some profit from thence: but euery time the knight sheweth him selfe in the market place, he returneth without money. By that comparison I meane, that princes should be affable, easie to talke with all, pleasaunt, mercifull, benigne, and stoute, and aboue all that they be gracious and louing, to the end that through these qualities, and not by money, they may learne to wynne the hartes of their subiectes. Princes should greately labour to be loued, specially if they will finde who shall succour them in ad­uersitie, and kepe them from euill will and hatred, whiche those princes can not haue that are hated: but rather euery man reioyceth at their fall and mi­serie. For eche man enioyeth his own trauaile, and truly the furious and so­rowfull hartes taketh some reste, to see that others haue pitie and compassiō vpon their griefes. Princes also should endeuour them selues to be loued & well willed, because at their death they maye of all their seruauntes and frendes be lamented. For princes ought to be suche, that they may be prayed for in their life, and lamented and remembred after their death. Howe cursed is that prince, and also howe vnhappy is that common wealth, where the seruauntes wyll not serue their Lorde but for rewarde: and that the Lorde doth not loue them but for ther seruices. For there is neuer true loue, where there is any particuler intereste. With many stones a house is buyl­ded, and of many men and one prince (whiche is the head of all) the common wealth is made. For he that gouerneth the common wealth, may be called a prince, and otherwyse not: and the common wealth can not be called nor sayde a common wealth, if it hath not a prince whiche is the head thereof. If Geometrie doe not deceiue me, the lyme whiche ioyneth one stone with an other, suffereth well that it be myngled with sande, but the corner stone that lyeth on the toppe ought to be medled with vnslekyd lyme. And it soun­deth vnto good reason. For if the nether stones seperate, the wall openeth: but if the corner should slippe, the buylding incontinently falleth. I suppose (fathers conscript) you vnderstande very well to what ende I applie this comparison. The loue of one neighbour with an other, may suffer to be cold: but the loue of a prince to his people, should be true and pure. I meane that the loue amongest frendes may well passe sometymes though it be colde: but the loue betwene the kyng and his people, at all tymes oughte to be per­fect. For where there is parfite loue, there is no fained wordes, nor vnfaith­full seruice.

I haue seene in Rome many debates among the people to haue bene pa­cified in one day: and one onely which betwene the Lord and the common wealth aryseth, can not be pacified vntyll death. For it is a daungerous thing for one to stryue with many, and for many to contende against one. In this case, where the one is proude, and the other rebelles, I wyll not excuse the prince, nor let to condemne the people. For in the end he that thinketh himself moste innocent, deserueth greatest blame. From whence thinke you cōmeth it, that Lordes nowe a daies doe commaunde vniust thinges by fury, & that subiectes in iuste matters wyll not obey by reason. I will tell you.

[Page]The Lorde doing of will, and not of right, would caste the willes of all in his owne braine, and deriue from him selfe all counsayle. For euen as prin­ces are of greater power then all the reste: so they thinke they knowe more then all the reste. The contrary happeneth to subiectes, who (beinge prouo­ked I can not tel you with what frenesy) despising the good vnderstanding of their Lord, will not obey that that their princes willeth, for the health of them all, but that whiche euery man desireth for him selfe particularly. For men nowe a dayes are so fonde, that euery man thynketh the prince should loke on him alone. Truely it is a straunge thing (though it be muche vsed a­mong men) that one should desire that the garmentes of all other should be mete for him: whiche is as impossible, as one mans armour shoulde arme a multitude. But what shall we be (Fathers conscripte and sacred senate) sith our fathers lefte vs this worlde with suche foly, and that in these debates & stryfes, we their children, are alwayes in dissention and controuersie, and in this wilfulnes, we shall also leaue our children and heires. How many prin­ces haue I seene and read of in my time, of my predecessours, whiche were vtterly vndone, by to muche pryde and presumption: But I neuer read nor heard of any, whiche were destroyed for being courteous, and louing to his subiectes. I will declare by some examples, whiche I haue read in bookes, to the ende that the Lordes may see what they wynne by their good con­uersation, and what they loase by being to haulty. The realme of the Sydoni­ans was greater then that of the Caldeans in weapons, and inferiour in anti­quitie, vnto that of the Assirians. In this realme there was Debastia, whiche was called a linage of kinges, that endured two hundreth and .xxv. yeares, because all those kinges were of a commendable conuersation. And an o­ther of Debastia endured no longer then fourty yeares. And our auncientes tooke pleasure of peace, whereof we are destitute: and were ignoraunt of the warres, whiche we nowe vse so muche. Alwayes they desired to haue kinges whiche should be good for the common wealth in peace, rather than valiaunt and couragious for the warre. As Homere in his Iliade saieth: the auncient Egiptians called their kinges Epiphanes, and had a custome, that Epi­phanes alwaies should enter into the temples barefoote. And because it chaū ­sed the Epiphane on a time to come into the churche hoased, he was imme­diatly for his disobedience depriued, and expulsed from the realme, and in his steade an other created. Homere declareth here, that this king was proude, & euill conditioned, wherefore the Egiptians depriued him, and banished hym the realme, taking occasion that he did not enter into the temple barefoote. For truly when Lordes are euil willed, and not beloued, for a litle trifle and occasion the people will arise and rebell against them. The saide Homere saide also, that the Parthes called their kynges Assacides, & that the sixte of that name was depriued and expulsed the realme, for that of presumption he had hym selfe to the mariage of a knight, and being bidden and desired, would not go to the mariage of a poore Plebeyan. Cicero in his Tusculanes saith, that in olde time the people perswaded their princes to communicate with the poore, & that they should abstaine and flye from the ryche. For among the poore they may learne to be mercifull, and with the ryche they shall learne nothing but to be proude. Ye knowe right well (Fathers conscript) howe this our coun­trey [Page 59] was first called great Grece, afterwarde it was called Latium, and then Italie. And when it was called Latium, they called their kynges Marrani, and truly though their borders were but narrowe: yet at the leaste their stout­nes was great. The Annales of those times say, that after the thirde Siluius, succeded a Marrane who was proude, ambitious, and euill cōdicioned, in such sorte, that for feare of the people, alwaies he slept locked vp: and therfore they depryued and banished him the Realme. For the auncientes saide, that the king should locke his dores at no houre of the nighte against his subiectes, neither he should refuse in the daie to geue them audience. Tarquine whiche was the last of the seuen kinges of Rome, was very vnthankefull towards his father in lawe, he was an infamie to his bloud, a traytour to his coun­trey, and cruell of his persone, who also enforced the noble Lucretia, and yet notwithstanding this, they doe not call him vnthankefull, infamous, cruell, traytour, nor adulterer: but Tarquine the proude, onely for that he was euill cōdicioned. By the faith of a good man I sweare vnto you (Fathers cōscript) that if the miserable Tarquine had bene beloued in Rome, he had neuer bene depriued of the Realme, for committing adultery with Lucretia: for in the end if euery light offence which in youth is committed, should be punished, with­in short space there should be no common wealth. All these euils (both before and after Tarquine) were committed by the auncientes in the Romaine em­pire, whiche were suche as these (of this young and lighte prince) and were nothing in comparison vnto thee. For truly cōsidering the youth of the one, and the experience of the other: the greatest offence of the younge, is but a counterfaite to the least that the olde committeth. Iulius Caesar last dictatour, and firste Emperour of Rome, (being a thing commendable bothe to Se­natours to salute the Emperour on their knees, and to the Emperour to ri­se againste them and resalute eche one according to his order) because of pre­sumption, and that he woulde not obserue this ceremonie, with .xxiii. woundes they dispatched him of his life. Tiberius was an Emperour, whom they blame for drunkennes, and Caligula was an Emperour also, whom they accuse of inceste with his sisters. Nero was an Emperour, who (for that he slewe his mother, and his maister Seneca) hath for euer bene named cruell. Sergius Galba was a deuouring and gluttonous Emperour, for that he cau­sed for one onely banket seuen thousand byrdes to be kylled. Domitian was an Emperour, who was greatly noted of all euils. For all euils whiche in many were scattered, in him alone were founde. All these miserable princes in the ende were betraied, hanged, and beheaded. And I sweare vnto ye (fa­thers conscript) that they died not for their vices, but because they were proude, and euill conditioned. For finally the prince for one vice only cannot muche endomage the people: but for being to haulty, and presumptuous, & of euill conditions, he may destroy a common wealth. Let princes and great lordes be assured, that if they geue many occasions of euill will, afterwardes one only suffiseth, to stirre their subiects to destroy them. For if the lord shew not his hatred, it is for that he will not: but if the subiecte doe not reuenge, it is for that he cannot. Beleue me (fathers conscripte, and sacred Senate) that euen as the Phisitians with a litle triacle purge manye euyll humours of the bodye: soo the sage Prynces wyth verye lyttle beneuolence, drawe [Page] out of their subiectes muche fylthines of harte, diuerting their ill willes into true and faithfull loue. And because the members should be agreable with the head, in myne opinion it behoueth the people to obey the commaunde­ment of the prince, and to honour and reuerence his person: and the good prince to be iuste and equall to all in generally, and gentle in conuersation with euery one. O happy common wealth, wherein the prince findeth obe­dience in the people, and the people in like maner loue in the prince. For of the loue of the Lorde, springeth obedience in the subiecte: and of the obediēce of the subiectes, springeth loue in the Lorde. The Emperour in Rome, is as the spyder in the middest of her cobwebbe: the which being touched with the needels pointe by one of the threedes of the same (be it neuer so litle) imme­diatly the spider feeleth it. I meane, that all the workes whiche the Empe­rour doth in Rome, are immediatly published through out all the countrey. For in fine, since princes are the myrrour of all, they cannot well cloake their vices. I see (fathers conscripte) that I haue bene iudged here of worldly ma­lice, because I accompanied the captiues in procession, and also because I suffred my selfe to be touched with them, to the ende they might enioye the pri­uiledge of their libertie: and in this case I render most humble thankes to the immortall gods, because they made me a mercifull Emperour, to set those at libertie that were in prysone: and that they made me not a cruel tyraunt, to set those in pryson whiche were at libertie. For the prouerbe saieth, that with one beane, a man may take two pigeons: euen so chaunsed the lyke herein yesterdaie. For the benefite was done for those miserable captiues: but the example of humanitie was shewed to all straunge nations. And knowe ye not, that whē the prince vnloseth the irons from the feete of the captiues, he byndeth the hartes, landes, and goodes of his subiectes? concluding ther­fore I saye, that to princes it were more safetie, and to the common wealthe more profite, to be serued in their palaces by free hartes with loue: then by subiectes whiche are kept vnder by feare.

¶Of a letter the emperour Marcus Aurelius sent to his frende Pulio, declaring the opinion of certaine philosophers concerning the felicitie of man. Cap. xl.

MArcus Aurelius Emperour of Rome, tribune of the people, high byshop, seconde consull and monarche of all the Romaine empire, wysheth to the Pulio his olde frende, health to thy persone, and prosperitie againste thy euill fortune. The letter that thou wrotest vnto me from Capua, I recey­ued here at Bethinia, and if thou diddest wryte it with a good hart, I did read it with willing eyes: whereof thou oughtest somewhat to content thee. For it is an auncient saying of Homere, that that whiche is well vewed with the eyes, is tenderly beloued of the harte. I protest vnto thee by the faithe of the immortall gods, that I doe not wryte vnto thee as a Romaine emperour, that is to saye, from the lorde to the seruaunt, for in this sorte I should wryte vnto thee briefe, and touching the purpose: which thing ought not to be done to the peculier frende. For the letters of graue men should neuer beginne, & the letters of vs frendes should neuer ende. I wryte vnto thee my frende Pulio, as to a priuate frende, to an olde companion of mine, and as to him, whiche is a faithfull secretary of my desyres, and in whose company I was neuer displeased, in whose mouth I neuer founde lie, and in whose promise [Page 60] there was neuer breache made. And the thing being thus, I should commit treason in the lawe of frendship, if I kept secret from thee any of my inward conceites. For all the griefes, whiche lie buried in the woful harte, ought not to be communicate but with a faithful frende. Doest thou thinke Pulio, that the Romaine emperour hath litle trauaile to wryte vnto thee as Emperour, to speake as Emperoure, to walke as Emperoure, and to eate as empe­rour, and finally to be as emperour in deede? certes I doe not meruaile hereat. For truly the life of the vertuous emperour, is but a dial which orde­reth or disordereth the comon wealth: and that wherof I marueile, is of the foly of Rome, & vanitie of the common wealth. For as much as all saye that the prince (if he wil seme graue, & be well estemed of the people) ought to goe softly, to speake litle, & to write briefly: so that for writing of letters they wyll he be brief, & for conquering of straunge realmes they doe not rebuke him al­though he be long. Wise men should desire that their princes be of a gentle cō dition, to the end they fal not to tyranny. That they haue their mind vncor­rupted, to minister to all equall iustice, y^t their thought be good, not to desire straunge realmes, that they haue their hartes voide frome wrathe, that they be sound within to pardon iniuries, that they loue their subiectes to be serued of them, that thei know the good to honour them, & that they know the euil to punish them: & as for the surplus, we litle regard whether the king go fast, whether he eate much, or write brief. For the daunger is not in that which is in the lack of his person: but is in the negligence that he vseth in the common wealth. I haue receiued my frend Pulio great comfort of thy letter, but much more I should haue receiued of thy presence: for the letters of aun­cient frendes, are but as a remēbraunce of time past. It is a great pleasure to the mariner, to talke of the perils past being in the hauen: & to the captaine, to glorie of the battaile after the victory. I meane aboue al pleasure this is the greatest to men, being now faithful frendes, to talke of the trauaile and daū ­gers which they passed, when they were young mē. Beleue me in one thing, and doe not doubt therof. There is no man that knoweth to speake, that knoweth to possesse, nor that can iudge or take any pleasure, neither that knoweth well how to kepe the goods which the gods haue geuen him, vn­lesse it be he that hath bought it derely with great trauaile. For with al our hartes we loue that thing, which by our own proper trauaile we haue got­ten. I aske thee one thing: who is he that oweth most to the gods, or that is most estemed amongest men? of Traian the iuste, whiche was brought vp in the warres of Dace, Germany and Spaine? or of Nero the cruell, whiche was nourished in all the deliciousnes of Rome. Truly the one was none o­ther then a Rose among briers, and the other was but a nettel among flow­ers. I speake this, because the good Traian hath gouerned his life in such sort, that alwayes they will smell the rose by the pleasaunt sauour: but the cruell Nero hath left the sting with the nettell of his infamy. I will not speake all, because many are & were made good, but for the most part the princes which were brought vp deliciously, gaue euery mā occasion that al should be offen­ded, for the euil gouernaunce of their liues in their realmes: and because they neuer experimented any kinde of trauaile in them selues, they do litle esteme the paines of another. I wil not that thou thinke my frend Pulio, that I haue forgotten the time y^t is past, though the gods brought me to y^e empire present. [Page] For though we togethers were tossed with the tormentes of youthe: yet nowe we maye repose our selues in the caulmes of our age. I doe remem­ber that thou and I did study in Rhodes in letters, and after we had so wen weapons in Capua, it hath pleased the Gods that the seedes of my fortune should rype here in Rome, and to thee and to others better then I, fortune would not geue one onely eare. I doe not geue the licence that thy thought be suspitious of me, sithe thou of my harte arte made a faithfull frende: for if vnconstant fortune doth truste me, to gather with trauayle the grape, know thou that here in my palace thou shalt not want of the wyne. The gods will not suffer, that nowe in this moment thou shouldest finde my harte shutte from thee, whose gates I founde alwayes (for the space of twenty yeares) open vnto me. Sithe that my fortunes brought me to the Empire, I haue alwayes had two thinges before myne eyes: that is to wete, not to reuenge my selfe of myne enemies, neither to be vnthankefull to my frendes. For I praye to the gods daily, rather then hereafter through vnthankefulnes my renowme should be defamed: that euen nowe with forgetfulnes my bodye should be buried. Let a man offer to the Gods what sacrifices he will, let him doe as muche seruice to men as he can: yet if he be vnthankefull to his frende, he oughte in all and for all to be vtterly condemned. Because thou shouldest see my frende Pulio, how greatly the auncient frende ought to bee estemed, I will declare thee an example of a Philosopher, the which to heare thou wilt somewhat reioyce. The auncient histories of the Grecians de­clare, that among the seuen sages of Grece, there was one named Periander, who was prince and gouernour a greate whyle: and he had in hym suche li­uelines of spirite on the one side, and suche couetousnes of worldly goods on the other side: that the historiographers are in doubte whether was the greater, the philosophie that he taught reading in the scholes: or the tyranny that he vsed in robbing in the common wealth. For truly the science whiche is not grounded of trougthe, bringeth great domages to the person. In the seconde yeare of my empire I was in the citie of Corinthe, where I sawe the graue whiche conteined the bones of Periander: where about was ingrauen in Greke verses and olde letter this Epitaphe.

THere were mo letters on the graue, but because it was alone in the fielde, the great waters had worne it, so that scarcely the letters coulde be red: and truly it was very olde, & in his time it semed to be a sump­tuous thing, but the negligence of reparation lost it quite: and it is not to be marueyled at, for in the ende tyme is of such power, that it cause the renow­med men to be forgotten, and all the sumptuous buildinges to decaye, and fall to the earth. If thou wilt knowe my frende Pulio, in what tyme the ty­raunt this philosopher was, I wyll thou knowe, that when Catania the re­nowmed citie was builded, in Cicilia neare the mount Ethna, and when Per­dica was the fourth kyng of Macedonia, and that Cardicea was the thirde kyng of the Meedes, and when Candare was fift king of Libeans, and that Assaradoche was ninth king of the Assirians, and when Merodache was twelft king of Cal­deans, and that Numa Pompilius reigned second king of the Romaines, & in the time of those so good kinges, Periander reigned amonges the Assirians. And it is meete thou knowe an other thyng also whiche is this. That this Perian­der was a tyraunt not only in dede, but also in renowme: so that thei spake of no other thing thorowe Greece, but it tended hereunto. Though he had euill workes, he had good wordes, & procured y^t the affaires of the cōmon wealth shuld be wel redressed. For generally there is no man so good, but a mā may finde somwhat in him to be reproued: neither any man so euill, but he hath some thing in him to be cōmended. I doe yet remēber (of my age, being nei­ther to young nor to old) that I saw the emperour Traian my lord, suppe once in Agrippine: & it so chaunced that wordes were moued to speake of good & euil princes in times past, as wel of y^e Grekes as of the Romains, y^t al those which were present there, cōmended greatly the emperour Octauian, & they al blamed the cruel Nero. For it is an aūcient custome, to flatter the princes that are present: & to murmure at princes that are past. When the good emperour Traian was at dinner, & when he praied in the tēple, it was maruel if any mā sawe him speake any word: & that day, since he sawe y^t thei excessiuely praised the emperour Octauian, & that the others charged the emperour Nero w^t more then neded, the good Traian spake vnto them these wordes. I am glad you cōmende the emperour Octauian, but I am angry you should in my presence speake euil of the emperour Nero, & of none other: for it is a great infamy to a prince being aliue, to heare in his presence any prince euill reported after his [Page] death. Truly the emperour Octauian was very good, but ye will not denye me but he might haue bene better: and the emperour Nero was very euil, but yet you will graunt me he might haue ben worse. I speake this, because Ne­ro in his first fiue yeares was the best of all, and the other nyne folowyng he was the worste of all: so that there is bothe cause to disprayse him, and also cause to commende him. When a vertuous man will speake of princes that are dead, before princes whiche are aliue, he is bounde to prayse onely one of their vertues which they had, & hath no licence to reuyle the vices whereof thei were noted. For the good deserueth rewarde, because he endeuoreth him selfe to folowe vertue: & the euill likewyse deserueth pardon, because through frayltie he hath consented to vyce. All these wordes the emperoure Traian spake I being present, and they were spoken with suche fiercenes, that all those whiche were there present bothe chaunged their colour, and also re­frained their tongues. For truly the shamelesse man feeleth not so muche a great strype of correction, as the gentill harte doth a sharpe worde of admo­nition. I was willing to shewe thee these thinges, my frende Pulio, because that since Traian spake for Nero, and that he founde in hym some prayse, I doe thynke no lesse of the tyraunte Periander, whome thoughe for his euyll workes he dyd we doe condemne: yet for his good wordes that he spake, for the good lawes whiche he made, we doe prayse. For in the man that is euill, there is nothing more easier then to geue good counsayle, and there is nothing more harder then to worke well. Periander made dyuerse lawes for the common wealth of the Corinthians, whereof here folowing, I wil declare some. We ordeyne and commaunde that if any by multipliyng of wordes kyll an other (so that it were not by treason) that he be not therefore condem­ned to die, but that they make hym slaue perpetuall to the brother of him that is slayne, or to the nexte of his kynne or frends: for a shorte deathe is & lesse payne, then a longe seruitude. We ordeyne and commaunde, that if any these be taken he shall not dye, but with a hotte iron shalbe marked on the forehead to be knowen for a thefe: for to shammefaste men longe infa­ime is more payne, then a short lyfe. We ordeyne and commaunde, that the man or woman whiche to the preiudice of an other shall tell any lye, shall for the space of a moneth carie a stone in their mouthe: for it is not meete that he whiche is wonte to lye, should alwayes bee authorysed to speake.

We ordeyne and commaunde that euery man or woman, that is a quareler and sedicious persone in the common wealth, be with great reproche ban­nished frome the people: for it is vnpossible that he shoulde bee in fauoure with the Gods, which is an enemie to his neighbours. We ordeyne and commaunde that if there be any in the common wealth, that haue receiued of an other a benefite, and that afterwardes it is proued he was vnthanke­full, that in suche case they put hym to death: for the man that of benefites receiued is vnthankefull, oughte not to lyue in the worlde amonge menne. Beholde therefore my frende Pulio, the antiquitie whiche I declared vnto thee, and howe mercifull the Corinthians were to murtherers, theues, and Pirates: And contrarie howe seuere they were to vnthankefull people, whome they commaunded forthwith to be putte to deathe.

And truly in myne opinion the Corinthians had reason, for there is nothinge troubleth a wyse man more, then to see him vnthankefull to him whome he [Page 62] hath shewed pleasure vnto. I was willing to tel thee this historie of Periander, for no other cause, but to the end thou shouldest see and know, that foras­much as I doe greatly blame the vice of vnthankefulnes, I will laboure not to be noted of the same. For he that reproueth vice, is not noted to be vertu­ous: but he which vtterly flieth it. Count vpon this my worde that I tel thee which thou shalt not thinke to be fained, that though I be the Romain Em­perour, I wilbe thy faithfull frend, & wil not faile to be thankefull towardes thee. For I esteme it no lesse glory to know how to keape a frend by wyse­dom: then to come to the estate of an emperour by philosophie. By the letter thou sentest, thou requiredst me of one thing to answere thee, for the whiche I am at my wittes end. For I had rather open my treasures to thy necessi­ties, then to open the bookes to answere to thy demaundes, although it be to my cost. I confesse thy request to be reasonable, and thou deseruest worthy prayse: for in the end it is more worth to knowe, how to procure a secrete of antiquities past, then to heape vp treasures for y^e necessities in time to come. As the philosopher maketh philosophie his treasour of knowledge to liue in peace, & to hope & to loke for death with honour: so the couetous (being suche a one as he is) maketh his treasure of worldly goodes, for to keape & preserue life in this world in perpetuall warres, and to end his life and take his death with infamie. Herein I sweare vnto thee, that one daie emploied in philoso­phy is more worth, then ten thousand which are spent in heaping riches. For the life of a peaceable man is none other, then a swete peregrination: and the life of sedicious persones is none other, but a long death. Thou requirest me my frend Pulio, that I write vnto thee wherin the auncientes in times past had their felicitie: knowe thou that their desires were so diuerse, that some dispraised life, others desired it: some prolonged it, others did shorten it: some did not desire pleasures but trauailes, others in trauailes did not seke but pleasures: the whiche varietie did not proceade but of diuerse endes, for the tastes were diuerse, and sondry men desired to taste diuerse meates. By the immortall Gods I sweare vnto thee, that this thy request maketh me muse of thy life, to see that my phylosophie answereth thee not sufficiently therein. For if thou aske to proue me, thou thinkest me presumptuous: if thou de­maunde in mirth, thou countest me to be to light: if thou demaundest it not in good earnest, thou takest me for simple: if thou demaūdest me for to shew it thee, be thou assured I am ready to learne it: if thou demaundest it for to knowe it, I confesse I can not teache it thee: if thou demaundest it because thou maiest be asked it, be thou assured that none wylbe satisfied with my aunswere: and if perchaunce thou doest aske it, because thou sleapinge haste dreamed it, seing that nowe thou art awake, thou oughtest not to beleue a dreame. For all that the fantasie in the nighte doth imagine, the tongue doth publishe it in the morning. O my frende Pulio I haue reason to complayne of thee, for so muche as thou doest not regarde the authoritie of my persone, nor the credite of thy phylosophie, wherefore I feare leaste they wyll iudge thee to curious in demaundinge, and me to simple in aunsweringe: all this notwithstanding, I determine to aunswere thee, not as I ought, but as I can, not according to the greate thou demaundest, but according to the litle I knowe. And partely I doe it to accomplyshe thy requeste, and also to ful­fyll [Page] my desire. And nowe I thinke that all whiche shall reade this letter, wyll be cruell iudges of my ignoraunce.

¶That princes and great Lordes ought not to esteme them selues, for being fayre, and wel proportioned. Cap. xli..

IN the time that Iosue triumphed amongest the Hebrues, and that Dardanus passed from great Grece to Samotratia, and when the sonnes of Agenor were seking their sister Europe, and in the time that Siculus reigned in Scicil, in great Asia, in the Realme of Egipt, was buylded a great cytie called Thebes, the which king Busiris built, of whom Diodorus Sicculus, at large mencioneth. Plynie in the .36. chapter of his naturall historie, and Homere in the second of his Iliade, and Statius in al the booke of his Thebiade, do declare great meruel­les of this citye of Thebes, which thing ought greatly to be estemed: for a man oughte not to thinke that fayned whiche so excellente auctours haue writen. For a truth they say that Thebes was in circuite .40. myles, and that the walles were .30. stades hye, and in breadthe .6. They say also that the ci­tie had a hundreth gates very sumptuous and strong, and in euery gate .ii. hundreth horsemen watched. Through the middest of Thebes passed a great riuer, the which by mylles and fishe dyd greatly profite the citie. When The­bes was in his prosperity, they say that there were two hundreth thousand fiers, and besydes all this al the kynges of Egipt were buried in that place. As Strabo sayth De situ orbis, when Thebes was destroyed with enemies, they found therin lxxvii. tombes of kings whych had bene buried there. And here is to be noted, that al those tombes were of vertuous kings. For among the Egiptians it was a law inuiolable, that the king which had bene wicked in his lyfe, should not be buried after his death. Before the noble and worthy Nu­mantia was founded in Europe, the riche Carthage in Affricke, and the hardye Rome in Italy, the goodly Capua in Campaigne and the great Argentine in Ger­manie, and the holy Helia in Palestine: Thebes onlye was the most renowmed of all the world. For the Thebanes amongest al nacions were renowmed, as­wel for their riches as for their buyldings and also because in theyr lawes & customes, they had many notable & seuere things & al the men were seuere in their workes, although they would not be knowen by their extreame do­inges. Homere sayth that the Thebanes had v. customes, wherein they were more extreme then any other nacion.

1. The first was, that the children drawing to v. yeres of age, were mar­ked in the forehead with a hoote yron, because in what places so euer they came they should be knowen for Thebanes by that marke.

2. The second was, that they should accustome their children to trauaile alwayes on foote. And the occasion why they dyd this was, because the E­giptians kept their beastes for their gods: and therfore when so euer they trauayled they neuer rydde on horsebacke, because they should not seme to sitte vpon their god.

3. The third was, that none of the citizens of Thebes shold mary with any [Page 68] of straunge nacions, but rather they caused them to marrye parentes with parentes, because that frendes maryeng with frendes, they thoughte the frendshippe and loue should be more sure.

4. The fourthe custome was, that no Thebane should in any wise make a house for himselfe to dwel in, but first he should make his graue wherin he should be buryed. Me thinketh that in this point the Thebanes were not to extreme, nor excessiue, but that they did lyke sage and wise men: yea and by the law of veryte I sweare, that they were sager then we are. For if at the least we dyd imploye our thought but two howers in the weke to make our graue: it is vnpossible but that we should correcte euerye daye our life.

5. The fift custome was, that all the boies which were excedinge faire in their face, shoulde be by theym strangled in the cradell: and all the girles whiche were extreame foule, were by them killed & sacrifised to the godds. Sayeng that the gods forgotte themselues, when they made the men faire, and the women foule. For the man which is very faire, is but an vnparfite woman: and the woman which is extreme foule, is but a sauage and wilde beast. The greatest God of the Thebaines was Isis, who was a red bull nou­risshed in the riuer of Nile, and they had a custome, that all those which had red heere immediately should be sacrify [...]ed. The contrarye they did to the beastes, for sithe their God was a bul of tawnye couloure, none durst be so bold to kyl any beasts of the same coloure. In such fourme and maner, that it was lawfull to kyll both men and women, and not the brute beastes. I do not say this was wel done of the Thebaines to sley their children, nor yet I do say that it was wel done to sacrifice men & women, which had red or taunye heere, nor I thinke it a thinge reasonable, that they should do reue­rence to the beastes of that coloure: but I wonder why they should so much dispise foule women, and faire men, sith all the world is peopled bothe with faire and foule. Then sith those barbarous (lyuyng as they did vnder a false law) did put him to death, whom the Gods had adorned with any beautie? we then which are Christians by reason ought much lesse to esteme y^e beau­tie of the body: knowing that most commonly thervpon ensueth the vnclen­nes of the soule. Vnder the christall stone lyeth oftentimes a daungerous worme, in the faier wal is nourisshed y^e venemous Coluber, within the mid­dell of the white tothe is ingendered great paine to the gummes, in the fy­nest clothe the motes do most hurt, and the most fruitful tree by wormes is sonest perisshed. I meane, that vnder the cleane bodyes & faire countenaun­ces, are hid many and abhominable vyces. Truly not only to children which are not wise, but to all other which are lyght and fraile, beauty is nothing els but the mother of many vyces, and the hinderer of all vertues. Let prin­ces and great Lords beleue me, which thinke, to be faire and wel disposed, that where there is great aboundaunce of corporal goods and graces, there ought to be great bones of vertues to be able to beare them. For the moste highe trees by great windes are shaken. I say, that it is vanytie to be vaine glorious, in any thinge of this world, be it neuer so parfite: and also I saye that it is a greate vanytie to be proude, of the corporall beautye. For a­monge all the acceptable giftes that nature gaue to the mortalles, there is nothinge more superfluous in man, and lesse necessarie, then the beautye [Page] of the body. For truly whether we be faire or foule, we are nothing the bet­ter beloued of God, neyther thereby the more hated of men. O blyndnes of y^e world, O lyfe which neuer lyueth nor shal lyue, O death which neuer hath end, I know not why man through the accident of this beautye shoulde or durst take vpon him any vaine glory or presumption: sith he knoweth that all the fairest, and most parfitest of flesh, must be sacrificed to the wormes in the graue. And knowe also, that all the propernes of the members shalbe forfeited to the hongry wormes which are in the earth. Let the great, scorne the lytle asmuch as they will, the faire, mocke the foule at their pleasure, the hole, disdaine the sicke, the wel made, enuy the deformed, the white, hate the blacke, and the Giantes, dyspise the dwarfes: yet in the end al shall haue an end. Truly in myne opinion, the trees beare not the more fruit, for that they are streight only, nor for being high, neither for geuing great shadowe, nor for being beautifull, nor yet for being great. By this comparison I meane, that though a noble & stout man be proper of parson, and noble of linage, shadowing of fauour, comlye in countenaunce, in renowne very high, and in the common wealth puissaunt, that therfore he is not the better in lyfe.

For truly the common wealthes are not altered by the simple labourers which trauaile in the fieldes: but by the vicyous men, which take great ease in their liues. Vnlesse I be deceiued, the swine and other beastes are fed vn­der the okes with the acornes, and amonge the pricking briers and thornes the swete roses do grow, the sharpe beeche giueth vs the sauoury chesnutts. I meane, that the deformed and litle creatures oft times are most profita­ble in the common wealth. For the lytle and sharpe countenaunces, are sig­nes of valiaunt and stout hartes. Let vs cease to speake of men which are fleshely, being eftsones rotten and gone, and let vs talke of sumptuous buil­dinges which are of stone: which if we should go to se what they were, we may know the greatnes and the height of them. Then we shal not know the maner of their beauty: and that which semed to be perpetuall, in shorte space we see it ende, and loase the renowne, in such sort that ther is neuer memory of them after. Let vs also leaue the auncient buildinges and come to the buildings now a days, and one shal see that there is no man that ma­keth a house, be it neuer so strong nor so faire, but (liuing a lytle while) he shal see the beauty therof decay. For ther are a great nombre of auncient men, which haue sene both the toppes of famous and stronge buyldings made, & also the foundacion and ground therof decayed. And that this is true it appeareth manyfestly, for that if the toppe decay, or the walles fall, or els if the tymber be weke, or the ioyntes open, or the windowes waxe rotten, or the gates do breake, the buildinges forth with do decay. What shall we say of goodly haules, and galleries well appointed, the which within short space, by coles or candels of childrē, or by torches of pages, or smoke of chimneys, by cobwebbes of spyders, become as dry & foule, as before they were freshe and faire. Then if that be true which I haue said of these things I would now gladly know, what hope man cā haue of the cōtinuaunce of his beauty, since we se the like destruction of corporal beauty, as of stones, wood, bricke, and clay. O vnprofitable Princes, O children of vanity to folyshe hardy, do you not remember that all your healthe it subiecte to sicknes, as in the payne [Page 69] of the stomack, in the heate of the lyuer, in the inflamacion of the feete, in the distemperaunce of humors, the mocions of the ayre, in the coniunctions of the Moone, in the Eclipse of the sunne: I say do not you knowe that you are subiect to the tedyous sommer, and vntollerable winter? Of a trouth I cannot tel how you can be (among so many in perfections and corruptions) so full of vaine glory, by your beauty, seing and knowinge that a litle feuer doth not only deface and marre the beauty, but also maketh and couloureth y^e face al yelow, be it neuer so wel fauoured. I haue maruailed at one thing, that is to wete, that all men are desirous to haue all things about their bo­dy cleane, their gownes brushed, their coates nette, the table handsome, and the bedde fine, and only they suffer their soules to be foule, spotted, and filthi. I durst say, and in the faith of a christian affirme, that it is a great lacke of wisedome, and a superfluitie of folye, for a man to haue his house cleane, and to suffer his soule to be corrupted. I would know what preheminence they haue which are fayre, aboue others to whom nature hath denyed beautye. Peraduenture the beauteful man hath two soules, and the defourmed crea­ture hath but one? peraduenture the most fayrest are the most healthful, and the most deformed are the most sicklyest? Peraduenture the most fayrest are the wysest, and the most defourmed the most innocentes? peraduenture the fairest are most stoute, and the defourmed most cowardes? peraduenture the fayre are most fortunate, and the foule most vnluckyest? peraduenture the fayre only are excepted from vyce, and the foule depryued from vertue? peraduenture those whych are fayre, of ryght haue perpetuall lyfe, and those whych are foule, are bound to replenyshe the graue? I say no certaynlye. Then if this be true, why do the great mocke the litle, the fayre the foule, the right the crooked, and the whyte the blacke, since they know that the vayne glory which they haue, and their beauty also, shal haue an end to day or to morow. A man that is faire and wel proportyoned, is therfore nothyng the more vertuous: & he that is deformed & euil shapen, is nothing therfore the more vicious: so y^e vertue dependeth not at all of the shape of y^e bodye, ney­ther yet vyce procedeth of the deformitye of the face. For dayly we se the dif­formytie of the body, to be beautyfied wyth vertues of the mynd: and the vertues of the mynd, to be defaced wyth the vyce of the body in his works. For truly he that in the vsage of his lyfe hath any botche or imperfectyon, is worse then he that hath foure botches in hys shoulders. Also I say, that though a man be great, yet it is not true that therfore he is strong: so that it is not a general rule, that the bigge body hath always a valiaunt and cou­ragious hart, nor the man whych is lytle of parson, shold be of a vyle & false hart. For we se by experyence, the greatest men, the most cowards: & the least of personage, the most stout and hardy of hart. The holy scripture speake of king Dauid, that he was redde in his countenaunce, & not bygge of body, but of a meane stature, yet not withstanding as he and the mighty Gyaunt Go­lias were in campe, Dauid kylled Golias wyth a sling, & with hys owne sword cut of hys head. We ought not maruayle, that a lytle sheaperde should sley so valyaunt & myghty a Gyaunte. For oft tymes of a lytle sparke commeth a great lyght: and contrary wise by a great torche a man can scarsely see to do any thinge. This kinge Dauid dyd more, that he being lytle of body, and [Page] tender of yeres killed the Lions, & recouered the lambes out of the Woul­fes throtes, and besides this in one day in a battaile with his owne handes, he slew to the nomber of 800 men. Though we cannot find the like in our tyme, we may well ymagine, that of the 800. which he slew, there were at least .300. of theym as noble of linage as he, as riche in goodes, as faire in countenaunce, and as high of stature: but none of these had so much force & courage, since he escaped aliue, & they remayned in the field deade. Thoughe Iulius Cesar was bigge enoughe of body, yet notwithstandinge he was euyll proporcioned: For he had his head all bald, his nose very sharpe, one hande more shorter then the other. And albeit he was yong, he had his face ryuel­led, his coulour somewhat yeallowe, and aboue all he went somewhat cro­ked, & his girdel was halfe vndone. For men of good wittes do not employ themselues to y^e setting out of their bodyes. Iulius Cesar was so vnhandsome in his bodye, that after the battaile of Pharsalique, a neighbour of Rome said vnto the great Oratour Tullius. Tell me Tullius, why hast thou folowed the parcialities of Pompeius since thou art so wise, knowest thou not that Iulius Cesar ought to be lord and monarche of all the world? Tullius then aunswe­red. I tell the true my frend, that I seing Iulius Cesar in his youth so euyl & vnsemely girded, iudged neuer to haue sene that that is sene of him, and did neuer greatly regard him. But the old Silla knew him better. For he seinge Iulius Cesar so vncomely, and so slouenly appareiled in his youth, oftentimes sayd vnto the Senate: beware of this yong man so euil marked. For if you do not watche wel his procedings, it is he that shall hereafter destroye the Romaine people as Suetonius Tranquillus affirmeth in the booke of Caeser. Al­beit that Iulius Caeser was vncomely in his behauiour, yet in naminge onlye his name he was so feared through the worlde, as if bechaunce any king or princes did talke of him at their table, as after supper, for feare they coulde not slepe that night vntill the next day. As in Gallia Gotica wher Iulius Caesar gaue a battaile, by chaunce a Frenche knight toke a Cesarian knight pryson­ner, who being ledde prisonner by the frenchmen, sayde Chaos Cesar whyche is to say: Let Caesar alone. Which the Gaulloys hearing the name of Caeser, let the prysoner escape, and without any other occasion he fel besides his horse. Now then let princes and great lordes se, how lytle it auayleth the valiaunt man to be faire or foule, sith that Iulius Caesar being so deformed, only wyth naming his name caused all men for feare to chaunge their countenaunce, Hannibal the aduenturous Captaine of Carthage is called monstruous, not only for his deedes he did in the world: but also for the euyl proporcion of his bodye. For of hys two eyes he lacked the right, and of the two feete he had the left foote croked, and aboue al he was lytle of body, & verye fyerse & cru­ell of countenaunce. The deedes and conquestes which Hannibal did among the people of Rome, Titus Liuius declareth at large: yet I wyll recite one thing which an historiographer declareth, and it is this. Frontine in the booke of the stoutnes of the Penians declareth, that in xvii. yeres that Hannibal war­red with the Romaines, he slew so great a nomber that if the men had bene conuerted into Kyne, and that the bloud which was shed had bene turned into wine, it had bene sufficient to haue fylled and satisfyed his hole armye, being 80. thousand foote men, and 17 thousande horse men in his campe.

[Page 70]I demaunde nowe, howe many were at that tyme faierer and more be­autifull of their bodies and countenaunce, then he was: whose beautie at this daye is forgotten, where as his valiauntnes shall endure for euer. For there was neuer prince that lefte of him eternall memorie, onely for beinge beautifull of countenaunce: but for enterprysinge great thinges with the sworde in the hand. The great Alexander was no fairer, nor better shapen thē an other man. For the chronicles declare of him, that he had a litle throte, a great head, a blacke face, his eies somewhat troubled, the bodie litle, and the members not well proporcioned, and with all his deformitie he destroyed Darius, king of the Perses and Meedes, and he subdued al the tyrauntes: he made him selfe lorde of all the castles, and tooke many kynges, and disherited and slewe mightie Lordes of great estates, he searched all their ryches, and pyl­led all their treasours, and aboue all thinges, all the earth trembled before him, not hauinge the audacitie to speake one worde against him.

¶Of a letter the Emperour Marcus Aurelius wrote to his Nephew, worthy to be noted of all young gentlemen. Cap. xlii.

SExtus Cheronensis, in his seconde booke of the lyfe of Marcus Aurelius decla­red, that this good Marcus Aurelius had a syster called Annia Milena, the whiche had a sonne named Epesipus, who was not onely nephewe, but also disciple to Marcus Aurelius. And after he was created Emperour, he sent his nephewe into Grece to studye the Greeke tongue, and to bannyshe him from the vices of Rome. This younge Epesipus was of a good and cleare iud­gement, well made of his body, and fayre of countenaunce: and sithe in his youth he estemed his beautie more then his learninge, the Emperour his vncle wrote him a letter into Grece, whiche sayde this.

Marcus Aurelius the Romaine Emperoure, firste tribune of the people, and Byshop, wysheth to thee Epesipus his nephew, and scholler, health and doc­trine. In the thirde Calendes of December, came thy cosyn Annius Verus, at whose comming all our parentage reioyced, and so muche the more for that he brought vs newes of Gretia. For truly when the harte hath the absence of that he loueth, it is no one minute of an houre without suspition. After that thy cosyn Annius Verus had spoken in generally to all, bryngyng newes from their frendes and chyldren, we talked together, and he gaue me a letter of thyne, whiche is contrary to that was wrytten me out of Grece, because thou wrytest to me, that I shoulde sende thee money to continue the in stu­dye, and they wrote vnto me from thence, that thou arte more youthful and geuen to the pleasures of the worlde, than becommeth thee. Thou art my bloude, thou arte my Nephewe, thou werte my scholler, and thou shalte bee my sonne if thou arte good. But God wyll neuer that thou be my Nephew, nor that I call thee my sonne, duryng the tyme that thou shalt be younge, fonde, lyght & frayle. For no good man should haue parentage with the vici­ous. I can not denye but that I loued thee from y^e bottome of my stomack, and so lykewyse thy vnthriftynes greaueth me with all my harte. For when I redde the letter of thy follyes, I lette thee knowe that the teares ranne downe my cheekes: but I wyll contente my selfe. For the sage and wyse men, though (againste their wylles) they heare of suche thynges paste, yet it pleaseth them to redresse other thynges that maye come hereafter.

[Page]I knowe well thou canst not call it to mynde, though perhappes thou haste it, that when thy vnlucky mother, and my sister Annia Milena died, she was then young enough, for she was no more but .xviii. yeares of age, and thou haddest not then foure houres. For thou were borne in the morning, and she died at nonetide: so that when the wycked childe possessed life, the good mo­ther tasted death. I can tell that thou hast lost such a mother, and I suche a sister, that I beleue there was no better in Rome. For she was sage, honest, and fayre, the whiche thinges are seldome seene nowe a daies. For so muche as thy mother was my sister, and that I had broughte her vp and maried her, I loued her tenderly. And when she died here at Rome, I redde then Rethorike at Rhodes, because my pouertie was so extreme, that I had no o­ther thing but that whiche by reading Rethorike I did gette. When newes came vnto me of the death of thy mother, and my sister Annia Milena, al com­forte layde on syde, sorowe oppressed my harte in suche wyse, that all my mē ­bers trembled, the bones sheuered, myne eies without reste did lamente, the heauy sighes ouercame me, at euery minute my harte vanished awaye, from the bottome of my harte I inwardly lamented, and bewayled thy vertuous mother and my dere syster. Finally sorowe executing his priuilege on me, the ioyfull company greued me, and onely with the louely care I quieted my selfe. I knowe not, nor can not expresse vnto the howe, and in what sorte I tooke the death of my sister Annia Milena thy mother: for in sleaping I drea­med of her, and dreaming I sawe her, when I was awake she represented her selfe before me, remembring then that she liued, I was sory to remember her death. Life was so greuous vnto me, that I woulde haue reioyced to haue bene put in the graue with her. For truly he feeleth assuredly the death of an other, whiche alway is sorowefull, and lamenting his owne life. Re­membring therefore the great loue whiche my sister Milena bare vnto me in her life, and thinking wherein I might requite the same after her death: I imagined that I could not by any meanes doe any thing more acceptable for her, then to bryng thee vp, thou whiche arte her chylde, and lefte an or­phane so young. For of all trauayles, to a woman this is chiefest: to leaue be­hinde her children to bring vp. My sister being dead, the firste thing I dyd was, that I came to Rome, and then sent thee to Capua to be broughte vp there, in the whiche place, harde at my nose, they gaue the sucke two yeares. For thou knowest right well, that the money which by reading Rethorike I gate, scarcely satisfied for thy dayly finding: but that in the night I reade some extraordinary lecture, and with that I payed for the mylke, which thou suckedst on the dugge, so that thy bringing vp depended vpon the labour of my lyfe. After that thou wer weyned and brought from the teate, I sent the to Bietro, to a frende and kinsman of mine named Lucius Valerius, with whom thou remainedst vntill fiue yeares were fully accomplished, where I founde both him and thee all thinges necessary. For he was in great pouertie, and a great babler of his tongue, in suche sorte that he troubled al men, and angred me muche. For truly a man should as willingly geue money to cause him to be silente, whiche is talkatiue: as to geue to a wyse man, to heare him speake. The fiue yeares accomplished, I sente thee to Toringue, a citie of Campagnia, to a maister whiche taught children there, called Emilius Torquates, of whom, [Page 71] to the end he should teache thee to reade and wryte three yeares: I tooke a sonne of his, whom he gaue me to reade to him Greke foure yeres, so that thou couldest not haue any profite in thee, without the encrease of my great trauayle, and augmenting paine to my harte. After thou were seuen yeares olde, that thou couldest reade and wryte well: I sente thee to studie in the famous citie of Tarenthe, where I kept thee foure yeares, paying to the mai­sters a great summe of money. Because nowe a dayes through our euyll fortunes, there is none that will teache without great stipende. Without lamenting I doe not tell thee, that in the time of the Cincinos (whiche were after the death of Quintus Cincinatus, vntill Cyna and Catullus) the philosophers and maisters of Rome did neuer receiue one peny to teache sciences to any that would learne them. For all the philosophers and maisters were by the sacred Senate payde, and none ceased to study for lacke of money. For in those dayes they whiche woulde applie them selues to vertue and sciences, were by the common treasure mainteined. As our fathers were wel ordered in their thinges: so they did not deuide offices by order onely, but also by or­der they paide their money in suche sorte that they paied first with the com­mon treasure, the priestes of the temples. Secondly the maisters of scholes and studies. Thirdly the poore wydowes and orphanes. Fourthly the straunge knyghtes, whiche of their owne free wylles voluntarely were made citezins of Rome. Fiftly all the olde souldiours, whiche had serued. xxxvi. yeares continually in the warres. For those which were retired home to their owne houses, were honourably founde of the common wealth. The .xii. yeares paste I my selfe was in Tarenthe, and caried thee to Rome, where I redde vnto thee Rethorike, Logike, and Philosophie, and also the Mathematicall sciences, keping thee in my house, in my company, at my ta­ble, and in my bedde, and furthermore I hadde thee in my harte, and in my minde. The whiche thinge thou shouldest esteme more, then if I gaue thee my house and all my goodes. For the true benefite is that onely whiche is done without any respect of profite or interest. I kepte thee with me thus in this sorte in Laurente, in Rhodes, in Naples, and in Capua, vntil such tyme as the gods created me Emperour of Rome. And then I determined to sende thee to Grece, because thou shouldest learne the Greeke tongue, and also to the ende thou shouldest accustome thy selfe to worke, that whiche true philoso­phie requireth. For the true and vertuous philosophers ought to conforme their workes to that they say, and publishe their wordes with their deades. There is nothing more infamous, then to presume to be sage, and to be desi­rous to be counted vertuous: principally for him that speaketh much, & wor­keth litle. For the man of a pleasant tongue, & euil life, is he which with impo­stumes vndoeth the cōmon wealth. When I sent thee to Grece, & withdrew thee from Rome, it was not to exyle thee out of my company, so that thou hauing tasted of my pouertie, shouldest not reioyce at my prosperitie: but it was that considering thy youthfull disposition and lightnes, I was afrayd to vndo thee in the palace, chiefly least thou wouldest haue presumed to haue bene to bolde & familiar, because thou werte my nephew. For truly princes which take pleasure y^t their children be familiar with thē, thei giue occasion y^t men shal not count thē wise, & cause also the yoūg mē to be estemed for light [Page] I haue tolde thee that I did for thee in Italy. I will nowe let thee knowe what thou hast done, and doest in Grece, so that I wyl shewe thee to be no­torious, that is to knowe, that thou taking and esteming thy selfe to be wel disposed in thy youthe, thou haste forsaken thy studie, and despised my coun­sayles, thou arte accompanied with vayne and light men, and hast viciously employed the money which I had sent thee to bie bookes. All the whiche thinges to thee being hurtfull, are to me no lesse dishonour and shame. For it is a generall rule, when the childe is foolishe and ill taught, the blame and fault is layde on the maisters necke, who hath taught him, and brought him vp. It greueth me not for that I haue broughte thee vp, neither for that I haue taught thee to reade, and cause thee to study, neither likewyse to haue kept thee in my house, to haue set thee at my table, nor also to haue suffred thee to lye with me in bedde, neither it greueth me to haue consumed so muche money on thee: but with all my harte it greueth me, that thou haste not geuen me occasion to doe thee any good. For there is nothing that gre­ueth a noble prince more, then not to finde parsons able of capacitie, to doe them any good. They tell me that thou art well made of thy body, and fayre of countenaunce, and that thou presumest also in those thinges: wherefore to enioye the pleasurs of thy persone, thou hast forsaken philosophie, wherwith I am not contented. For in the ende the corporall beautie, earely or late, pe­risheth in the graue: but vertue and science, maketh men to be of immortall memory. The gods neuer commaunded it, neither the studies and vniuersi­ties of Italy suffred it, to haue the body fine and trimme, the visage fayre & cleare, and the harte full of philosophie: for the true philosopher, of all other thinges estemeth leste the setting forth of the body. For that the demonstra­tions & tokens of a true & perfect philosopher is to haue his eies troubled, his eiebries burnte, & the head bauld, the bal of his eies sonke into his head, the face yellow, the body leane and feble, the fleshe drie, y^e feete vnhosed, the gar­ment poore, the eating litle, and the watching great. Finally he ought to liue as a Lacedemonian, and speake as a Grecian. The tokens of a valiaunt and re­nowmed captaine, are his woundes and hurtes: and the signe of a studious philosopher, is the despising of the world. For the wyse man ought to thinke him selfe as muche dishonoured, if they call him stoute, and sturdy: as a cap­taine when they call him a cowarde and negligent. I like well that the phy­losopher studie the auncient antiquities of his forefathers, that wrote the profounde thinges for the time to come, that he teache profitable and holsom doctrines to those whiche are nowe aliue, that he diligently enquire of the mocion of the starres, that he consider what causeth the alteration of the ele­mentes. But I sweare vnto thee Epesipus, that neuer sage of Rome came to those thinges, nor philosopher of Grece likewyse, but in searching the quiet­nes of the soule, and despising the pleasurs of the body. Touching the body I am like to beastes, but concerning the spirite I am partely like to the gods, sithe that following the thinges of the fleshe I, am made lesse than my selfe, and in following the motions of the spirite, I am made more then I am. For truly sensualitie maketh vs inferiour to beastes, and reason maketh vs superiour vnto men. The worldly malice and presumption naturally desi­reth, rather to mounte then to descende: and to commaunde, rather than to [Page 72] be commaunded. And since it is so, why doe we by vices abase our selues to doe lesse then beastes, being possible for vs by vertues, to doe more then men? Amongest all the members, which men can haue, there is nothing more ten­der to breake, nor any thing more easy to corrupte, then is the handesomenes of the body, wherof we are so proude. For in mine opinion, to esteme him self to be handsome & propre of persone, is no other thing, but to esteme our selues that dreaming we shal be riche and mighty, and afterwardes awaking we finde our selues to be poore and miserable. And me thinketh this thing to be true, because I will declare, what it is to se a young man in his first age, the hed litle, the heere yeallowe, the browe long, the eies grene, the chekes white, the nose sharpe, the lips coloured, the bearde forked, the face liuely, the necke smal, the body of good proportion, the armes litle, the fingers longe, & to con­clude, so wel proportioned in his members, that mens eies shoulde alwayes desire to beholde him, and the hartes alwaies seke to loue him. If this young man so faire and wel proportioned, remained long time in this beautie and disposition, it were good to desire it, to procure it, to kepe it, to praise it, and to loue it wel: for in the end if we loue the beautie in beastes and buildinges, by greater reason we should desire it in our selues. But what shall we saye, that when we doe not watche, this litle floure whiche yesterday florisshed on the tree, faire and whole, without suspicion to be lost, one litle hory frost sodainly wasteth and consumeth it, the vehement wynde ouerthroweth it, the knife of enuie cutteth it, the water of aduersitie vndoeth it, and the heate of perse­cutions pineth it: and finally the worme of shorte life gnaweth it, and the putrifaction of death decayeth and bryngeth it downe to the grounde. O mannes lyfe that arte alwayes cursed, I counte fortune cruell, and thee vnhappy, synce she will that thou tariest on her, whiche dreaminge geueth the pleasures, and wakinge woorketh the displeasures: whiche ge­ueth into the handes trauayle to taste, & suffreth thee not only to listen after quiet: which wil thou proue aduersitie, and agree not that thou haue prospe­ritie but at her will: finally she geueth thee life by ounces, and death without measure. The wicked & vicious say, that it is a great pleasure to liue in ease: but I protest vnto them, that ther was neuer any mortal man had so much pleasure in vices, but that he remained in great paine after that they were bannished frō him. For the harte, which of long time hath ben rooted in vice, incontinently is subiect to some great alteration. I would all would open their eies to see how we liue deceiued: for al the pleasures which delighte the body, make vs beleue that they come to abide with vs continually, but they vanishe awaye with sorowe immediatly. And on the contrary parte, the in­firmities and sorrowes that blynde the soule saye, that they come onely to lodge as gestes, and remayne with vs continually as housholders. I mar­ueyle of thee Epesipus, why thou doest not consyder what shall become of the beautie of thy bodye hereafter, sythe thou seest presently the beautie of those departed interred in the graue. By the dyuersitie of fruites, manne dothe knowe the dyuersytie of trees in the Orcharde, that is to wete, the Oke by the acornes, the Date tree by the dates, & the vines by the grapes: but when the roote is drie, the body cut, the fruite gathered, the leafe fallen, & when the tree is laide on the fire and become asshes, I would now know if this ashes [Page] could be knowen of what tree it was, or howe a man might know the dif­ference of the one from the other? By this comparison I meane to saye, that for somuche as the life of this death, and the death of this life cōmeth to seke vs out, we are all as trees in the orcharde, whereby some are knowen by the rootes of their predecessours, others by the leaues of their wordes, others by the braunches of their frendes, some in the floures of their beauty, and other some by the barke of their foule skynne. The one in their merciful­nes, the other in their stoutnes, others in their hardines being aged, others in the hastines of their youthe, others in their barronnes by their pouertie, o­thers by their fruitfulnes in ryches, fynally in one onely thinge we are all a­like, that is to wete that all vniuersally goe to the graue, not one remaining. I aske nowe when death hath done his office, executing all earthely men in the latter daies, what differēce is there then betwene the faire and the foule, whiche lie both in the narrowe graue? certainely there is none, and if there be any difference, it shalbe in the making of the graues, whiche vayne men inuented. And I doe not repent me for calling them vaine, since there is no vanitie nor fondnes comparable to this, for they are not contented to bee vaine in their liues, but will also after their deathes eternise their vanities in sumptuous and stately sepulchres. The coale of the Ceder (in my opinion) that is highe and faire, is nothing more whither when it is burnte, then the coale of the Oke which is litle and croked. I meane, oftentimes the gods do permitte, that the bones of a poore Philosopher are more honoured then the bones of princes. With death I will threathen thee no lenger, for sithe thou art geuen to the vices of this life, thou wouldest not as yet that with a word it should destroye thee: but I will tell thee one worde more, though it greue thee to heare it, whiche is, that the Gods created thee to die, men begot thee to die, women bare thee to die, and thou camste into the worlde for to die: & to conclude I saye, some are borne to daye, on condition they die to morow, and geue their places to others. When the great and fruitfull trees begin to budde forth by the rootes, it signifieth that time draweth on for them, to cut the drie and wythered braunches. I meane that to see children borne in the house is no other, but to cite the grandfathers and fathers to the graue. If a man would aske me what death is, I woulde saye a miserable lake wherin all worldly men are taken. For those that most safely thinke to passe it ouer, remaine therein moste subtilly deceiued. I haue alwayes redde of the aun­cientes past, and haue seene of the younge men present, and I suppose that the selfe same will be to come hereafter. That when life most swetest semeth to any man, then sodainly death entreth in at their dores. O immortal gods, I can not tell if I may call you cruell, I knowe not if I may call you merci­full, because you gaue vs fleshe, bones, honour, goodes, frendes, and also ye geue vs pleasure: finally ye geue to men all that they wante, saue onely the cuppe of lyfe, whiche to your selues you did reserue. Since I may not that I would, I will that I may: but if it were referred to my will, I woulde rather one onely day of life, then all the ryches of Rome. For what auayleth it to toyle and take paine to increase honour, and worldly goodes: since lyfe daily diminisheth. Returning therfore to my first purpose, thou must knowe, that thou estemest thy selfe, and glorifiest in thy personage and beautie: I [Page 73] would gladly know of the, and of others whiche are yonge and faire, if you doe not remember that once ye must come to be olde and rotten. For if you thinke you shall lyue but a lytle, then reason woulde you shoulde not esteme youre beauties muche: for by reason it is a straunge thinge, that lyfe shoulde abate vs, and folie trayne vs. Yf you thinke to become aged, ye ought to re­member, and alwayes to thinke, that the steele of the knyfe, whiche dothe muche seruice, at length decayeth and is lost for lacke of lokynge to. Trulye the yong man, is but a new knyfe, the whiche in processe of tyme cankerethe in the edge: for on one daye he breaketh the poynte of vnderstandynge, ano­ther he loseth the edge of cuttyng, and to morow the rust of diseases taketh him, and afterwardes by aduersitie he is writhen, and by infirmities he is diseased, by riches he is whetted, by pouerty he is dulled agayne: and finally, oftentimes it chaunseth that the more sharpe he is whetted, so muche the more the lyfe is put in hasarde. It is a true thinge, that the fete and handes are necessary to clyme to y^e vanyties of youth: and that afterwardes stum­blynge a lytle, immediately rowling the heade downewardes, we discende into the miserie of age. For (to oure seamynge) yesterdaye we knewe one, that was yonge and beautifull: and with in shorte tyme after, we heare that he is dead and rotten. When I consider manye men, aswell frendes as enemyes, whiche were (not long a goe) florisshyng in beautye and youth, and presently I see them to be olde and drye, sycke and foule, truly I think that as then I dreamed of them, or that they be not nowe as they were then. What thynge is more fearefull, or more incredible, then to see a man become miserable, in shorte space, that the fashion of his visage shoulde chaunge, the beautie of the face shoulde be loste, the beard waxe whyte, the heade bauld, the cheekes and forheade full of wrynckelles, the teethe (as whit as Iuorye) become blacke, the lighte feete by the goute to seme crepeled, and afterwarde waxeth heauie, the palsey weakeneth the strong arme, the fyne smothe throte with wrinckelles is pleated, and the bodye that was streight and vpryghte, waxeth weake and croked. Aboue all that I haue spoken, I say to y^e Epesipus (which presumest to be faire) that he which through hys pro­pernes in youth was y^e mirrour of all, becommeth to be such a one, y^t he dou­teth whether he be the selfe same now in his age, that he was in his youth. Doe what thou wilte, prayse and gloryfye thy beautie asmuch as thou thinc­kest good, yet in the ende the beautie of men is none other: but as a veile to couer their eyes, a payre of fetters for the fete, manacles for the handes, a lyme rodde for the winges, a these of tyme, an occasion of daunger, a prouo­ker of trouble, a place of lecherye, a sinke of all euill. and fynallye it is an in­uentour of debates, and a scourge of the affectioned man. Since thou haste forsaken thy studye, I am not bound to send the any thing, chiefely wasting thy monye in childysh and youthfull toyes: but notwithstandyng all those thinges, I sende the by Aulus Vegenus two thousande crounes for thy appa­raile, and trulye thou shalt be very vnthankfull, if thou dost not knowe the benefite done vnto the. For a man ought to giue more thākes for that which is done of curtesie: then for that which is offered of necessitie. I cannot tell, what to let the vnderstande in these partes, but that thy sister Anania Salaria is maried, who sayeth she is contente. I praye God it be so, for with money [Page] men maye be holpen to mariages: but it lyeth in the gods to contente the parties. If thou wilte know of Toringa thy cosen, thou shalte vnderstande she is imbarked in the fleete whyche went to Spaine, and in dede I neuer thought otherwise on her, after she had hene .3. dayes hydde in the waye of Salaria. For maydes that will betimes gather their grapesi: t is a token that they will goe on warfare with souldyars. Of Annius Rufus thy frende and companion, I certify the that he is gon into y^e Ile of Helespont, and he goeth by the authority of the senate, to vnderstand the gouernement therof: and albeit he be yong, yet he is wise, and therfore I suppose he will render a good accompt of his commission. For of these two extremities, the aged that do decline, or the yong that are wise: I had rather holde my selfe to the wisdom of the yong, then to the white berdes of the aged. My wife Faustine saluteth the, and be thou assured that in thy affaires (at the least to my seming) she is very fauourable vnto the, and dayly she instauntely requireth me not to be angrye with the, sayenge: that sage men oughte not to esteme the lyghtenes of youth, and that there is no olde man that is sage, but he which in all thin­ges, was lighte and youthefull. I say no more to the in this case, but if thou wylte be good, I cannot denaye that thou art not my nepheue, my old sco­ler, and seruaunte. For if in the I se amendment, I wil withdrawe mine ire. For trulye amonge the louing hartes, there is nothing that plucketh vp the euill will, vnles it be the good lyfe. At the request of my wife Faustine I haue writen the this worde, and I saye no more, but that of her parte and mine thou commende vs to all the vniuersitie. The Gods haue the in their custo­dye, to whom it may please to gyue the amendement of lyfe. Marcus Aurelius the romaine emperour, to the Annius Epesipus wryteth with his owne hand.

How princes and great Lordes in olde time were louers of wise men. Chap. xliii.

ONe of the chiefest thynges that wanne reputacion and eternall me­morye to the auncient princes and Gouerners, was that they sought wyse men to be alwayes couersaunt about them, whose graue coun­saile their realmes alwayes obserued, and obeyed. It profiteth a king litle, to leade with him a greate nomber of sages, to gouerne him and his realme: if his subiectes are armed with malice not to obey hym. Let princes knowe, whiche esteme not the counsaile of sages, that their commaundement of other shall not be regarded. For the lawe whiche by will is made, and not of right ordeined, deserueth not to be obeyed. We which turne and tosse y^e lea­ues of the auncient histories cannot denay, but that the romaines naturally were proude. Yet we muste confesse, that as they haue ben stout in thinges touching warres: so they haue shewed them selues temperate, in the affaires of the publike weale. And truly herin Rome declared her wisedom & might, for as by hardye and stoute captaynes the enemies were destroied in warre: so by sages and wise men the common wealth was gouerned and maintei­ned in peace. Ofte tymes with my selfe I muse whereuppon all these discor­des grew, betwene lords and subiectes, princes and vassalles: and my count being made, I finde that they haue both reason. For the subiectes complaine of the litle loue of their lorde: and the lordes complaine of the great disobe­dience of their subiectes. For to say y^e truth, disobedience is so much augmen­ted, [Page 74] and the desier of commaundement is become so licencious, that it se­meth to the subiectes that the waighte of a fether is lead: and on the cōtrary it semeth to princes that for the flieng of a flye, they should draw their swor­des. All this euill and damage commeth not, but because the princes haue not with them wise men, whiche maye counsaile them: for there was neuer any good prince, that credited euil counsaile. There are two thinges in prin­ces and prelates whiche gouerne the soule, thone is the dignitie of the office, and the other is the nature of y^e person. It may wel be that on may be good in his person, and euill in his gouernement: and the contrary, he may be euil of his person, and good in gouernement. And therfore Tullius Cicero sayeth, that there neuer was nor shall be such a Iulius Cesar in his person, nor so euill a gouernour as he was for the common wealth. It is a great grace in a mā to be good, but it is much more that he be a good prince: and for the contrary, it is a great euil for a man to be euill, but it is much worse for him to be an euil prince. For the euill man is only euil to him selfe, but the euill prince indo­mageth al others: for the more the poison is scatered through the body, in so much more daunger he is of his lyfe. I meane, the more power a man hath ouer the common wealth: so much the more euil and domage he doth if his life be euill. I maruell why princes and great lordes should be so curious to serche the best medicines to cure their bodies: & that they are so slacke & slow in seking sage persons to gouerne their cōmon wealth. For w^tout cōparison, it is greater domage that the common wealth be euill gouerned, then if the prince and gouernour therof should be sicke in his person. Hitherto we haue neyther red nor sene that any Prince haue perrished for lacke of phisike, but for lacke of counsailours we haue seen and red of infinite kinges and realmes that haue ben destroyed, and vtterly vndone.

The lacke of a phisicion maye cause daunger in mans person: but the lacke of a wise man, may set discord amongest the people. For where ther is any tumulte amongest the people a ripe counsaile of a wyse man profiteth more: then a hundreth purgacions of rubarbe. Isidorus in the forth boke of his Etimologies affirmeth, that the romaines were foure hundreth yeares with­out phisicions. For Esculapius the sonne of Apollo was the laste phisician in Grece. And in the tēple of the same Esculapius, they set by the image of Archa­buto, a man very notable in surgery. For the romaynes were so beneficious to vertuous parsones, that to euery on that exceaded other in any kynde of vertue, they rewarded him with mony, they set vp a statute of him for me­mory, or els they made him fre in the common wealth. And then when the surgian Archabuto was become auncient, and very riche, & when by occasiō of great and daungerous wondes he dyd cutte of the armes and legges of certayne Romaynes, they thought him a cruell an vnnaturall man. Wher­fore they droue him out of his house, and killed hym with stones in the fielde of Mars. And let no man maruel therat, for oftētimes men suffer lesse harme in enduring the paine, then to tary for y^e cruell remedies the surgians applie vnto it. Some men will say, that when Rome was without surgians, the romaynes were disconfaited and halfe lost. To this I wil aunswere, y^t they neuer had a more prosperous time▪ then in y^e .400. yers when they wer w^tout surgians. For then was Rome vndone, whē they receiued surgions, for at y^e tune they droue philosophers out of rome. I do not speake this as a preiudice [Page] to any surgian, for me thinketh that princes cannot be without some amōg them. For as the fleshe is feble and delicate, so dayly nedeth it remedies to comforte it. The sage surgeons geueth vs none but good and healthfull counsailes. For they do not perswade vs to any other thing, but that we be: sober and continent, in eating, drynking, sleapinge, trauailing, and workinge and that in all thinges we should be temperat. The end why I speake these thinges is, to perswade princes, prelates, and great lordes, that the great di­ligence they haue to seke surgeans, & the somme of money they wast to main­teyne and content them, they should spend parte of that to seke wise men to counsaile their personnes. For if men knewe what it were to keape a wyse man, to commaunde in their house, they would giue for on only wise man al their goods. Ye ought to haue pitie and compassion vpon those princes, and great lordes, which lose so many dayes in the moneth, and so many houres in the daye, in speaking of warres, buildinges, weapons, meates, beastes, of huntinges, and medecines, and oftentimes of othermens doinges, & of other vaine thinges, not necessary for mans lyfe. And this cōmunication they vse with those that are neither vertuous, nor wise: the which can neither wisely talke, nor yet aunswere directly vnto that whiche is asked. Oftentimes it chaunseth that a prince at randon moueth a matter, which they neuer sawe writen before, nor with their eares they neuer hard y^e like, neither in all their life time they had knowledge therof, and yet they will seme to giue iudge­ment of it, (or better to saye) obstinatlie to cotend, as if all the dayes of their lyfe they had studyed it: which thing procedeth of great shame, and euil brin­gyng vp. For the priuy counsaile may speake before their princes, but be they neuer so priuye, with licence or without licence it is not lawfull for them to contend. Helius Spartianus in the lyfe of Alexander Seuerus sayeth, that the em­perour Seuerus was demaūded once by an embassadour of Graece, what thing was most painefull to hym in Rome? wherunto the emperour aunswered. There is nothing greueth me more, then when I am mery, that my seruaun­tes should rayse any strife or debate: I am not displeased that matters shuld be debated, but this greueth me when on wil obstinately striue, that hath no ground of that he speaketh▪ For the mā whych giueth reason of that he spea­keth, cannot be called obstinate. Theodosius the Emperoure was once de­maunded what a prince ought to do to be good, wherunto he aūswered, the vertuous prince whē he goeth abroad, ought to haue graue and wise men in his compagnie to discourse with all, when he is at his meate to haue wyse men at his bourde disputing, and when he withdraweth him self a parte to be reading with wise men: and finally at all vacant tymes, he ought to be founde with sage men counsaling. For the knight which entreth into bat­taile without weapons, is as hardye as the prince whiche will gouerne the common wealth, without the counsaile of wyse men. Lampridius in the booke of the Romayne gestes saieth, y^t the emperour Marcus Aurelius nether at hys meate, at his going to bed, at his vprising, in his trauaile, opēly, nor secretely, suffered at any time that fooles shuld sing or cōmunicate with him, but only wise & vertuous men, whō always he most intierly loued. Of truthe he had reason, for there is nothing, be it in iest or in earnest, but is better lyked of a wise man, then of a foole. Yf a prince be sad, cānot a wise man peraduenture by the saienge of the holy scripture counsell him better, then a foole by folysh [Page 75] wordes? Yf a Prince be prosperous, shall it not be better (to kepe him in the same prosperity) to associate him selfe with a wyse man, rather then to put his trust in a foole and malicious person? Yf a prince be destitute of money, cannot perchaunce a wise man find him better meanes to get it, thē a foole which doth nothing but aske? If a prince wil passe the time away, shall not he be more comforted with a wise man, that rekeneth vnto him the sauorye histories done in times past, then harkening a foole speakyng folishely, & de­claring thinges dishonestly, with the sayenges of the malicious of the tyme present? That that I speake of surgians, the selfe same I speake of foles. For I do not say that they keape them for their pastime, though truly we might better say to loase their time, then to passe their time. For that may iustly be called time lost, which is spent without the seruice of God, & profite of theyr neighbours. That which I most maruel at is, not so much for y^e great authority y^e fooles haue in the pallaces of princes & great lordes, as for the litle suc­cour & credite which wise men haue among them. For it is a great iniury, y^e fooles should enter into y^e palace of princes euen vnto their bed side, and that one wise mā may not nor dare not enter into the halle. So y^t to the on there is no dore shut: and to the other there is no gate open. We which are at this present, of right do commend those. y^t were before vs, for no other cause, but that in times past, though the sages were few in nomber, & the world was replenished with barbarous people: yet the sages of those barbarous people were greatly estemed, and had in reuerence. And this custome endured long tyme in Grece, that when a philosopher passed by a Greke, he rose and spake vnto hym, and he might not sit: for the contrary, al those which shal liue here after will reproue vs which are at this presente. Forasmuch as we haue so great a multitude of sages, and do not liue amongest barbarous, but amon­gest Christians: and it is a grefe to see, and shame to write, how litle wise mē are estemed. For at this day (throughe oure offences) not those which haue most science: but those which haue most ryches, in the common wealthe doe commaund. I know not whether the deuine wisdom hath depriued thē, or that the worldly malice hath lost the tast of them. For now a dayes ther is no sage, that liueth al alone to be wise, but it is necessary for him to trauaile how to gaine his liuing: for necessitie enforceth him, to violate the rules of true philosophy. O world, world, I know not how to escape thy handes, nor how the simple man & ideote defendeth him selfe out of thy snares, when the sage and wyse men (yea with al their wisdome) can scarsely set their foote sure on the ground. For al that wise men of this world know, is litle ynough to defend them from y^e malitious. Readyng that which I read of time past, and seing that which I se of time present: I am in doubte which was grea­ter, the care that vertuous princes had in seekyng out sages to counsell thē, or the great couetousnes that others haue at this present, to discouer mynes and treasures. Speaking therfore in this matter as I thinke, I desire that those which haue the charge of gouernement (whether he be prince, prelate, or priuate parson I passe not) that they once may haue about them sage mē, that be wise in dede, and that they would loue them aboue all the treasour they had heaped. For in the end, of good counsaill there commeth profite: and much treasour, is a token of great daunger. In the old time when vertuous [Page] Princes died, and that they lefte their children for successours in their Re­almes, & besides that forasmuch as they saw their children yong, & euill in­structed in the affaires of their realmes, they committed them to tutours, that should teache thē good workes & doctrine: rather than they would giue them surueyours, whych should encrease & augment their cofers and rentes. For truly if the common wealth be defended with great treasures, it is not gouerned with good counsayles. The princes which are yong, accustomely are giuen to vyces: for in the one part youth reigneth, & on the other part ho­nesty wanteth. And to such truly vices ar very daungerous, specially if they want sages to counsaile thē, to keape them from euil company. For the cou­ragious youth will not be brydeled, nor their great libertie can be chastysed. Princes without doubt haue more nede of wyse men about them, to profyte them in their counsailes: then any of all their other subiectes. For synce they are in the view of all, they haue lesse licence to commyt vice than any of all. For if they doe behold all, and that they haue auctoritie to iudge all, will they nill they, they are beholden and iudged of all. Princes ought to be circūspect whom they trust with the gouernemēt of their realmes, and to whom they commytte the leading of their armies: whom they send as embassatours in­to straunge countreys, and whom they trust to receiue and keape their trea­surs: but much more they ought to be circumspecte in examinyng of those whom they choose to be their counsalours. For looke what he is that coun­saileth the Prince at home in his palace: so likewyse shall his renowne [...]e in straunge countreis, and in his owne common wealthe. Why should they not then willingly examin, and correct their own proper palace? Let princes know, if they doe not know, that of the honestie of their seruauntes, of the prouidence of their counsayles, of the sagenes of their personnes, and of the order of their house, dependeth the welfare of the common wealth. For it is impossible that the braunches of that tree, whose rootes are dried vp, should be sene to beare grene leaues.

How the Emperour Theodosius prouided wise men at the houre of his death, for the edification of his .2. sonnes. Archadius and Honorius. xliiii. Chap.

IGnatius the Hystorian in the boke that he made of the .2. Theodosij, of the .3. Archadij, and of the .4. Honorii declareth, that the first and great Theodosius being fyftie yeares old, and hauing gouerned the Empire .11. yers, lyenge on his death bed, called Archadius and Honorius, his .2. sonnes, and committed them to Estilconus and Ruffinus to be instructed, and ordeined them lykewise for gouerners of their estates, and signories. Before that the father dyed he had now created his children Cesars, beyng then of the age of .17. yeares. Therfore the father seynge them not as yet rype, nor able to gouerne their Realmes and signories: he committed them vnto maisters and tutours. It is not alwayes a generall rule, though one be of .25. yeares of age, that he hath more discretion to gouerne realmes then another of .17. For dayly we see, that we allow and commend the .10. yeares of one, and reproue the .40. yeares of an other. Ther are many princes tender of yeres, but ripe in coun­sailes: and for the countrary there are other princes old in yeares, & yong in counsailes. When y^e good Emperour Vespasian died, they determined to put his sōne Titus in the gouernement of y^e empire, or some other aged Senator, [Page 76] because they said Titus was to yong. And as they were in controuersie of the matter, the Senatour Rogerus Patroclus said vnto the Senate. For my parte I require rather a Prince which is yong, and sage: then I do a prince which is old and foolysh. Therfore now as touchyng the children of Theodosius, one day Estilconus the tutour of Archadius speaking to a greke philosopher, very sage, whose name was Epimundus, sayde thus vnto him. Thou and I long time haue bene acquainted together in the palace of the emperour Theodose, my lord, who is dead and we ar aliue: thou knowest it had bene better that we .2. had died, and that he had liued. For there be many to be seruauntes of princes, but there ar few to be good princes. I feele no greater griefe in this world, than to know many princes in one realme. For the man whiche hath sene many princes in his lyfe: hath sene many nouelties and alterations in the common wealth. Thou knowest well that when Theodosius my maister died, he spake to me these wordes, the which wer not spoken without great sighes: and multiplienge of teares. O Estilconus I dye, and am going into an other world, wherin I shall giue a streighte accompte of y^e Realmes and seignories which I had vnder my charge: And therfore when I thinke of myne offences, I am meruelously afrayed. But when I remember y^e mercy of God, then I receiue some conforte and hope. As it is but mete we should trust in the greatnes of his mercy: so likewise is it reason we should feare the rigour of his iustice. For truly in the christian law they are not suffred to liue (as we which are Princes that liue in delightes of this world) and af­terward without repentaunce to goe streighte to Paradyse. Then when I thinke of the great benefittes which I haue receiued of God, and of the great offences which I haue committed, & when I thynke of the long tyme I haue lyued, and of the litle which I haue profited, & also that vnprofita­bly I haue spent my time: On the one part I am loath to dye, for that I am afrayed to come before the tribunall seate of Iesus Christ: and on the other part, I would liue no lenger, because I do not profit. The mā of an euil life, why doth he desire to lyue any longer? My lyfe is now finished, & the tyme is shorte to make amendes. And sithe god demaundeth nought els but a contrite harte, with all my harte I doe repente, and appeale to his iustice, of mercie, from his Iustice to his mercy, because it maye please him to receiue me into his house, and to giue me perpetuall glorie, to the confusion of al my synnes and offences. And I protest I dye in the holy catholike faith, & com­mend my soule to god, & my body to the earth, & to you Estilconus & Ruffinus, my faithful seruauntes, I recōmende my dere beloued children. For herby y^e loue of the childrē is sene, in y^t the father forgetteth thē not at the houre of his death. In this case of one only thing I doe warne you, one only thing I re­quire you, one only thing I desire you, & one onely thing I cōmaund you, & that is, that you occupye not your mindes in augmentinge the Realmes & seignories of my childrē: but only that you haue due respect to giue thē good education & vertuous seruāts. For it was only the wise men which I had about me, y^t thus long haue mainteined me in this great auctoritie. It is a goodly thing for a prince to haue stoute captains for y^e warres: but without comparison it is better to keape & haue wise men in his palace. For in y^e end, the victory of y^e battaille consisteth in the force of many: but y^e gouernement [Page] of the common weale oftentimes is putte vnder the aduise of one alone. These so dolefull and pitiefull wordes, my lord and maister Theodosius spake vnto me: now tell me Epimundus what I should doe at this present, to ful­fill his commaundement? For at his harte he had nothing that troubled him so much, as to thinke whether his children would vndoe, or encrease the cō ­mon wealthe. Thou Epimundus, thou art a Grecian, thou art a philosopher, thou hast vnderstandyng, thou art an olde seruaunt, thou arte my faithfull frend, therfore for al these thinges thou art bound to giue me good & health­ful counsaile. For many times I haue heard Theodosius my maister say, that he is not accompted sage which hath turned y^e leaues of many bookes: but he which knoweth, and can geue good & healthful counsailes. Epimundus the philosopher aunswered to these wordes. Thou knowest wel Lord Estilconus, that the auncientes and great Philosophers, ought to be brief in wordes, and very parfect in their workes. For otherwise to speake muche, & worke litle, semeth rather to be done like a tyraunt: then like a greeke philosopher. The Emperour Theodosius was thy Lord, and my frend. I say frend, because it is the libertie of a greeke Philosopher, to acknowledge no homage nor ser­uice to any superiour. For he in his hart can haue no true sciēce: y^t to rebuke the viicous kepeth his mouth shut. In one thing I cōtent my selfe in Theo­dose aboue al other princes, which were in the Romaine empire, and that is, that he knew and talked wisely of al his affaires, and also was very diligēt to execute the same. For all the fault of Princes is, that they are prompte & bold to talke of vertues: and in executing them, they are very slacke & feare­full. For such Princes can not continew in the vertue, which they doe com­mende: nor yet resyste the vyce, which they do dispraise. I graunt that Theo­dosius was an executour of iustice, mercifull, stoute, sober, valiaunt, true, lo­uyng, thankfull, and vertuous: and finally in all thinges, and at all times he was fortunate. For fortune oftentimes bringeth that to Princes, which they will and desire: yea many times better then they looke for. Presuppose it to be true (as it is most true) that the time was alwayes prosperous to y^e Em­perour Theodosius: yet I doubte whether this prosperity wil continew in the succession of his children. For worldlye prosperitie is so mutable, that with one only man, in a moment, she maketh a thousande shrewde turnes: and so much the more it is harde to continue stedfast in the second heyre. Of slowe and dull horses, come oftentimes couragious and fyerse coltes: and euyn so of vertuous fathers, come children euill brought vp. For the wicked children inherite the worste of the father, whiche is ryches: and are dysenherited of the best, whiche are vertues. That whiche I perceyue in this matter, as wel of the father whiche is dead, as of the children whyche are alyue, is that Theodose was vertuous in deede, and the children are capable to follow both good and euill, and therfore it is requisite that you nowe goe aboute it. For the prince whyche is yonge, is in greate perill, when in hys youth he begyn­neth not to folowe the steppes of vertue. To speake particulerly of Archa­dius, and Honorius, I let the know Estilconus, that it is a thyng superfluous to talke of it, for I should loase my tyme: because the thynges of Prynces are very delicate, and though we haue lycence to prayse theyr vertues, yet we are bounde to dissemble their faultes.

[Page 77]As a sage father Theodose desire y^t to giue his childrē good doctrine, & always to accōpany them: But I as a frend do counsaile y^e, that thou kepe them frō euil. For in the end al is euil, to accompany with the euil, & forsake the good: but the worse euill pursueth vs, rather by the presence of the euill, than by the absence of the good. It may wel be, that one beyng alone, & without the company of the good, may yet notwithstandyng be good: but for one that is accompanied with euil men, to be good, of this I greatly doubte. For y^e same day: that a man accompanieth him selfe with the vicious: the selfe same day he is bound to be subiecte to vice. O Estilconus, since thou so much desirest to accomplishe the commaundement of thy lord and maister Theodose, if thou canst not cause that Archadius and Honorius (which are yong princes) doe ac­company with the good: yet at the least withdraw them from the company of the euil. For in the courtes of princes vicious men are none other, but soli­citours in this world to attempte others to be vitious. How many, & what solicitours haue we seene (thou and I in Rome) the which forgetting the af­fayres of their Lordes, did solicite for them selues, vices and pleasurs. I will not tell what seruauntes of princes haue bene in times past: but what they were, & what they are, euery man may easely see. I will tell the only, not of those whiche ought to be counsellours of princes: but also of those, whyche ought not to liue in their courtes. For the counsellers and officers of princes ought to be so iust: that sheares can not finde what to cut away in their ly­ues, nor that ther neadeth any nedle or thred to amend their fame. If thou Estilconus haste hard what I haue sayd: marke now what I wyll saye, and keape it in memory, for peraduenture it may profite the one daye.

In the courtes of princes, proude men ought to haue no familiarity nor en­terteinement. For it is vnsemely that those which are not gentle in wordes, shuld commaund: & those that haue not their hartes ready to obey, should be familier with the prince. In the courtes of princes, ther ought not to be of counsaile, & much lesse familiar, enuious men: for if enuie reigne amongeste Princes and counsailours, there shall alwayes be discentions in the cōmon wealth. In the courts of princes hasty men ought not to haue familiaritie: for oftentimes it chaunceth, that the impaciēce of the counsellers, causeth the people to be euill content with their princes. In the courtes of princes ther ought not to be familiar, nor of counsaile, gready nor couetous men: for the Princes giue great occasion to the people to be hated, because their seruaun­tes haue alwayes their handes open to receyue bribes. In the courtes of princes ther ought not to be familiar fleshelye men: for the vice of the fleshe hath in it so litle profite, that he y^t is wholie ouercome ther with, is or ought to be to y^e prince alway suspected. In y^e palace of a king ther ought not to be drunkerdes, nor gluttons: for wheras the familiers ought principaly to serue their princes w^t good coūsaile, in mine opinion a mā being full & surcharged with exces is more like to bealche & breake wind after his surfette: then able to gyue any profitable counsaile in the common wealth. In the palace of princes ought not to be resient nor familiar blasphemers: for the man whiche is a seruaunt, and openlye dare blaspeme his creator: will not spare in se­cret to speake euyll of hys Lorde.

In the palace of princes ought not to be of counsail, nor familiar, y^e negligent and delicat persons: For ther is nothing (next vnto y^e deuine prouidence) that [Page] healpeth princes more to be puissaunt, and mightie, then when their seruaū ­tes are faythful, and diligent. In the palace of princes defamed men ought not to haue familiaritie: for the prince can not excuse him selfe to be thought culpable when they doe rebuke him, if in his house he mainteyne seruaun­tes, which openly are defamed. In the palace of princes they ought not to suffer Ideotes & fooles: for the re [...]ames are not loast for that the princes are yong, vncircumspect, and vitious: but for that their counsaylours are simple and malitious. Wo, wo, be to the land, where the lord is vitious, the subiect sedicious, the seruaunte couetous, and the counsailour simple and malicious. For thā the common wealth perisheth, when ignoraunce & malice reigneth in the Prince and gouernour of the same. These wordes passed betwene the noble knight Estilconus, and the wise Philosopher Epimundus, vpon the bringing vp of those .2. princes Archadius, and Honorius. And because that prin­ces and prelates might see (whiche now haue the charge to gouerne people) how muche the auncientes dyd desire to haue sage men aboute them: not­withstandynge that I haue spoken, I will shewe you here some notable and auncient examples.

Howe Cresus king of Lydia was a great frende and louer of Sages. Of a letter the same Cresus wrote to the Philosopher Anacharsis. And of an other letter of the Philosophers answer agayne to the Kyng. Chap. xlv.

IN the yeare of the creation of the worlde, 4355. and in the thirde age, Sar­danapalus being kinge of the Assirians, Ozias king of the Hebrues, and Elchias being hygh byshop of the holy temple, at that time when Rea the mother of Romulus lyued, in the second yeare of the first Olimpiade, the great and renow­med realme of Lydes, had beginning: as Plinie in the fyfte booke of the natu­ral history saieth. Lidia is in Asia Minor, and first was called Meonia, and after­wardes was called Lidia, and now is called Morea. This Realme of Lydes had many worthy cities, that is to wete, Ephese, Colose, Aclasomena, and Phore [...]. The first kinge of Lydes was Ardisius, a man of great courage, and a Greeke borne, and reygned .36. yeare. The second was Aliaces, who reygned 14. yers. The third was Meleus, and he reygned .12. yeares. The fourth was Candale, and reigned .4. yeares. The fifte was Ginginus, and reygned .5. yeares. The syxte was Cerdus, and reygned .6. yeares. The .vii. was Sadiates, and reygned .15. yeares. The .viij. was Aliates, & he reygned .49. yeares and the .ix. was Cresus, and reigned .15. yeares. & of this kyng Cresus, Xenophon declareth that he was more valiaunte in feates of warre: then comely of personage. For though he was lame of one foote, bleamished of one eye, lackyng one eare, and of bodye not muche bygger than a dwarfe: yet for all thys he was a iuste manne, verye constant, stoute, mercyfull, couragious, and aboue all he was a great enemy to the ignoraunt, and a specyall frende to the sage. Of thys Kynge Cresus, Seneca speaketh in hys booke of clemencie and sayeth, that the sages were so entierly beloued of hym, that the greekes (whyche hadde the fountaine of eloquence) dyd not call hym a louer, but entitled hym the loue of sages. For neuer no louer dyd so muche to attayne to the loue of hys ladye, as he dyd to drawe to hym, and to hys countreye, sage menne. Thys kynge Cresus therefore beyng lorde of many Barbarous nations (the [Page 78] whiche loued better to drinke the bloude of the innocent: then to learne the science of the wise) lyke an excellent Prince determined for the comfort of his person, and remedye of his common wealth, to searche out the greaetst sages that were in Grece. At that tyme flourished the famous and renow­med philosopher Anacharsis, who though he was borne & brought vp amonges the Scithies: yet he was alwaies resident notwithstāding in Athens. For the vniuersitie of Athens dyd not despise those that were Barbarians: but those that were vitious. The king Cresus sent an embassatour in great au­ctoritie with riches, to the Phylosopher Anacharsis, to perswade and desire him, and with those giftes and presentes to present him, to the end it myght please him to come and see his person, and to sette an order in his common wealth. Cresus not contented to send him giftes which the imbassatour ca­ried, but for to let him vnderstande why he dyd so, wrote hym a letter with hys owne hand as hereafter foloweth.

¶Of the wysedome and sentences of Phalaris the tyraunt, and howe he putte an Artisan to death for inuentinge newe tor­mentes. Cap. xlvi.

IN the laste yeare of the Latines, and in the firste yeare of the Romaynes, Ezechias beinge kyng of the Iewes, and Azarias great Bysshoppe of the ho­ly temple, Abacuck Prophet in Iewry, and Merodach beyng kynge in Babi­lon, and when the Lacedemonians buylte Bizaunce (whiche nowe is Constanti­nople) Phalaris the famous tyraunt was then lyuinge. Of this Phalaris Ouide saieth, that he was deformed in his face, spoore blynde of his eyes, and excea­ding couetous of riches, and neuer obserued any thynge that he promysed. [Page 80] He was vnthankefull to his frendes, and cruell to his ennemies: finally he was such a one, that the tyrannies which seuerally were scattered in others, in hym alone were altogethers assembled. Amongest all the iniquities that he inuented, and amongest all the tyrannies that he committed, he hadde one vertue very great, whiche was, that euen as he was onely head of all tyran­nies: so was he chiefe louer and frende of al philosophers and sage men. And in all those sixe and thirty yeares whiche he gouerned the realme by tyran­ny, they neuer founde that any man touched his bearde, nor that any man satte at the table with him, spake vnto him, or slepte in his bed, nor that any man sawe in his countenaunce any mirthe, vnlesse it were some philosopher or sage man, with whome, and to whom he liberally put his body in truste. And they sayde that this Phalaris saide oftentimes. The prince that absenteth him selfe from sage men, and accompanieth with fooles: I saye vnto him, though he be a prince of his common wealth, he is a cruell tyraunt of his person. For it is a greater paine to lyue among fooles, then to die amongest sages. Pulio in the sixte booke De gestis Romanorum saieth, that a worthy and excellent painter presented a table to Octauian the Emperour, wherein were drawen all the vertuous princes, and for their chefetaine, Octauian the Em­peroure was drawen: at the foote of this table were all the tyranous Princes paynted, of the whiche Phalaris was chiefe and captaine. This table vewed by Octauian the Emperour, he commended the worke, but he di­salowed the intention thereof, saiyng: me thinketh it not mete that I beinge aliue, should be set chiefe and princicipall of all the vertuous menne that are deade. For during the time of this wicked lyfe, we are all subiecte to the vi­ces of weake and feble fleshe. Also it seameth vnto me an vniuste thing, that they should put Phalaris for principall, and captaine of all the tyrauntes: since he was a scourge and enemy, to fooles and ignoraunt men: and so earnest a louer and frende of sages, and wyse philosophers. The fame of this cruell tyraunte Phalaris beinge knowen, and his extreame cruelties he vsed, spred through all Greece.

A neighbour and artificer of Athens called Perillus (a man very excellent in metalles, and a great worker in works of fountaines) came to Phalaris the tyraunt, saying that he would make suche a kinde of torment, that his harte should remayne reuenged, and the offender well punished. The matter was, that this workeman made a bull of brasse, wherein there was a gate by the whiche they put the offender, and in putting the fier vnder the bul, it roared, and cried, in maner as it had bene aliue: whiche thing was not onely a hor­rible and cruell tormente, to the myserable creature that endured it, but also it was terryble to hym or those that sawe it. Let vs not marueile neyther at the one, nor at the other: for truely the pitefull harte (whiche is not fleshed in crueltie) hath as muche pitie to see an other man suffer, as of the sorrowe and tormente whiche he hym selfe feeleth. Phalaris therfore seing the inuen­tion of this tormente (whereof the inuentour hoped great rewarde) proui­ded, that the inuentoure of the same should be put within the bull, and that the crueltie of the tormente shoulde be experimented in none, saue onely on the inuentour. Truly in this case Phalaris shewed him self not a cruel tyraūt, but rather a mercifull Prince, and a sage Philosopher: for nothyng can be [Page] more iuste, then that the inuention of the malice be executed, on the frayle fleshe of the inuentoure. Nowe because Phalaris was a great frende of sages, the philosophers of Grece came oftentymes to see hym, whiche were verye gently receiued of hym. Though to saye the truthe they profited more with his goodes then he did with their phylosophie. This tyraunte Phalaris was not onely a frende of sages: but also he was very well learned, and depelye seene in morall philosophie. The whiche thing appeareth well in the epistles, whiche he wrote with his owne hande. I can not tell wherein he shewed hym selfe greater, either in the sentences and doctrines whiche he wrote with his penne: or in the slaughter and cruelties whiche he did with his sworde. O howe many companions had Phalaris the tyraunt, in this case in tymes passe: and that (as I woulde) there were none also at this time pre­sent, whiche in their pleasaunte wordes did not resemble the Emperoure Nero. I neuer reade other thynge of those that are gone, neyther haue I seene otherwyse of those that are present, but many they are that blase ver­tues, and infinite whiche runne after vices. For of truth we are very lighte of tongue, and to feble of fleshe. The Epistles whiche this Phalaris wrote are knowen to all men, I meane of those which knowe Greke, or laten: and for those that knowe them not, I was wylling to drawe these that are present, and to put them in our vulgare tongue for twoo causes. The one to the ende princes myght see howe good a thynge it is to be sage, and howe ty­rauntes were praysed for being Sages, and geuing good counsayles. The other, to the ende the people mighte see howe easie it is to speake well, and howe harde it is to woorke well. For there is nothyng better cheape in the worlde, then counsayle. The sentences therefore of the Epistles of Phalaris are these whiche followe, in such sorte as I could moste briefly gather them, to reduce them in good and profitable stile to wryte them.

The particuler loue whiche princes shew to one more then an other, brea­deth oftentimes muche enuie in their Realmes. For the one being loued, and the other hated, of this commeth hatred, & of hatred cōmeth euil thoughtes, of euyll thoughtes proceadeth malice, and of malice commeth euyl wordes, the whiche breake out into worse deedes: Finally when a prince sheweth not to equalles his fauoure indifferently, he setteth fyre in his cōmon wealth. Princes ought to forbidde, and Sages ought not to consente, that rebelles and quarellers should trouble those whiche are quiet and peace makers: for when the people rise, immediatly couetousnes is awaked. When couetousnes groweth, iustice falleth, force and violence ruleth, snatchynge reigneth, le­cherie is at lybertie, the euyll haue power, and the good are oppressed: final­ly all doe reioyce one to lyue to the preiudice of an other, and euery man to seeke his owne priuate commoditie. Many vayne men doe rayse dissen­tions and quarelles amongest people, thinking that in troubled water, they shoulde augmente their estates, who in shorte space doe not onely loose the hope of that they sought: but also are put out of that they possessed. For it is not onely reasonable, but also moste iuste, that those by experience fele that, whiche their blynde malyce wyll not suffer them to knowe.

It is muche good for the people that the gouernours be not vnfortunate▪ but that of their nature they were happy. For to lucky Prynces, fortune [Page 81] geueth many thinges euen as they demaunde, yea and geueth them better then they looke for. The noble and valiaunt princes, when they see them selues with other princes, or that they are present in great actes, oughte to shewe the freenes of their harte, the greatnes of their realme, the prehemi­nence of their persone, the loue of their common wealthe, and aboue all the discipline of their courte, and the grauitie of their counsayle and palace. For the sage and curious men shoulde not beholde the prince in the apparayle, whiche he weareth: but the men whiche he hath to counsayle him. The sage men, and those that be not couetous, if they do employe their forces to heape vp treasures, ought to remember in their hartes how to employ themselues to spende their money well. Sithe fortune is maistres in all thinges, and that to her they doe impute both good and euil workes, he alone may be cal­led a princely man, who for no contrarietie of fortune is ouercome. For truly that man is of a stoute courage, whose harte is not vanquished by the force of fortune. Though we prayse one for valiaunt with the sworde, we wyll not therefore prayse him for excellent with the penne. Although he be excel­lent with his penne, he is not therefore excellent with his tongue. Though he haue a good tongue, he is not therefore well learned. And thoughe he be learned, he hath not therefore good renowme. And though he hath good re­nowme, he is not therefore of a good lyfe. For we are bounde to receyue the doctrines of many whiche wryte: but we are not bounde to folowe the lyues whiche they doe leade. There is no worse office amongest men, then to take the charge to punyshe the vices of an other, and therefore men ought to flye from it, as from the pestylence: for in correctinge vyces, hatred is more sure to the correctour, then amendement of lyfe is to the offender.

He hath and possesseth muche that hath good frendes: For many ayde their frendes, when they woulde haue holpen them more if they coulde. For the true loue is not weried to loue, nor ceaseth not to profite. Though sage men haue loste muche, they oughte not therefore to dispayre, but that they shall come to it agayne in tyme. For in the ende, tyme doth not cease to doe his ac­customed alterations, nor perfecte frendes cease not to doe that which they oughte. The proude and disdainefull man (for the moste parte) alwayes falleth into some euill chaunce, therefore it is a commendable medecine some tymes to be persecuted: for aduersitie maketh a wyse man lyue more safely, and to walke in lesse daunger. For so muche as we doe excuse hym whiche committeth the faulte, there is neither the offender, nor the offence but de­serueth payne. For suche a one that committeth the faulte through sodayne anger, dyd euyll: and if he dyd committe it by deliberation, he did muche worse. To desyre to doe all thynges by reason is good, and lykewyse to laye them all in order is good, but it is very harde: For temperate men haue suche respecte in compassing their doynges, and by weyght so cast all the in­conueniences, that scarcely they euer determyne to goe about it. To the man whiche hath gouernement twoo thynges are daungerous, that is to wete, to sone or to late: But of those twoo, the worste is to sone. For if by determining late, a man loseth that whiche he myght haue gotten: by de­termining to sone, that is loste whiche is nowe gayned, and that whiche a man might haue gayned.

[Page]To men whiche are to hasty, chaunce dayly many euilles and daungers, as saieth the prouerbe. The hastie man neuer wanteth woe. For the man being vnpacient, and hauing his vnderstanding high, afterward come qua­rels and brawlynges, displeasures, varieties, and also vanities, whiche loo­seth their goodes, and putteth their personnes in daunger. Sithe all na­turally desire to be happy, he alone amongest all others may be called happy, of whome they maye truely saye: he gaue good doctrine to lyue, and lefte good example to die. These and many other sentences Phalaris the tyraunt wrote in his letters, whereof Cicero profited muche in his workes, and Seneca also in his epistles and many other wryters besydes: For this tyraunt was very brief in wordes, and compendious in sentences. This Phalaris beyng in his citie of Agrigente, a Philosopher of Grece wrote hym a tauntinge letter, chargynge hym with tyranny, to whiche he aunswered with this letter followyng.

¶How Philippe kyng of Macedonia, Alexander the great, the king Ptolomeus, the king Antigonus, the king Archelaus, and P [...]rrus kynge of the Epirotes, were all great louers and frendes of the sages. Cap. xlvii.

IF Quintus Curtius deceiue me not, the great Alexander, sonne to kyng Phi­lyppe of Macedome, dyd not deserue to be called great, for that he was ac­companied with thousands of men of warre: but he wanne the renowne of great, for that he had more philosophers on his counsaile then all other princes had. This great prince neuer toke vpon him warres, but that firste the order of executyng the same shoulde before his presence be examyned of the sages, and wise philosophers. And truly he had reason. For in affaires, wher good counsaile haue proceded, they may alwayes loke for a good end. These Historiographers whych wrote of great Alexander (as wel the Greci­ans as the Latines) knowe not whether the fiersnes wherwith he stroke his enemyes was greater, or the humanitie wherewith he embraced his coun­sayle. Though the sage philosophers whych accompanied the great Alexan­der were many in nombre: yet notwithstandyng amongest all those, Aristo­tle, Anaxarcus, and Onosichrates were his most familiars, And herein Alexander shewed hymselfe very wise. For wise princes ought to take the counsaile of many, but they ought to determine and conclude vpon the opinion of few. The greate Alexander did not contente himselfe, to haue sages with hym, neyther to sende onlye to desire those whiche were not his: but often­tymes himselfe in personne woulde goo see theym, vysite theym, and counsayle with theym. Saying that the Princes whiche are the seruaun­tes of sages, come to be made maisters and Lordes ouer all.

In the time of Alexander Magnus, Diogenes the philosopher lyued, who neither for entreatye, nor yet for any promises made, would come to see Alexander the great. Wherfore the great Alexander went to se him, and when he had desired him to go with him, and acompany him, Diogenes aunswered.

O Alexander, since thou wilte winne honoure in keapinge of menne in thy companye: it is not reason that I shoulde loose it, to forsake my stu­dy: For in folowing the, I shall not folow my selfe: and being thyne, I shal cease to be myne.

Thou arte come to haue the name of the greate ALEXANDER, [Page] for conqueringe the worlde, and I haue attayned to come to renowme of a good Phylosopher in flyeng the world. And if thou dost ymagine that thou hast gotten, and wonne: I thinke that I haue not erred, nor lost, And since thou wilt be no lesse in aucthoritye then a king, do not thinke that I wil lose the estimacion of a philosopher. For in the world there is no greater losse vnto a man, then when he looseth his proper lybertie. When hee had spoken these wordes, Alexander said vnto them that were about him with a loude voyce. By the immortall gods I sweare, and as god Mars rule my handes in battaile, if I were not Alexander the greate, I would be Dioge­nes the Philosopher. And he sayd further, in myne opinion there is no other felycitie vpon the earth, then to be Alexander king, who commaundeth al, or to be Diogenes to commaund Alexander, who commaundeth all. As king A­lexander was more familyar with some philosophers, then with others: so he estemed some bookes more then others. And they say he read oftentimes in the Iliades of Homere, which is a booke where the storye of the destructi­on of Troy is: and that when he slept, he layde vnder his head vpon a bolster his sword, and also his booke. When the great king Alexander was borne, his father King of Macedonie did two notable things. The one was, that he sent many and very riche giftes into the Ile of Delphos, wher the Oracle of Apollo was, to the end to present theym with him, and to praye him, that it would please him to preserue his sonne. The other thing that he did was, that immediatly he wrote a letter to the greate Philosopher Aristotel, wher in he sayd these words.

¶Of what excellencye mariage is, and wheras common people ma­rie of free will, Princes and noble men oughte to marye of ne­cessitie. Cap. i.

AMonge all the frendships and companyes of this lyfe, ther is none so naturall, as that betwene the husbande and the wife lyuing in one house: for all other compag­nies are caused by free wil only, but this procedeth both by wil & necessity. Ther is at this day no Lion so fierce, no Serpent so venimous, no Viper so infectiue, no As­picke so mortall, neyther any beast so tirrible, but at the least both male & female do once in the yere mete & con­ioyne: and thoughe that in brute beastes there lacketh reason, yet notwithstandynge they haue a naturall instinction to assemble themselues for the conseruacion of their kinde. In this case men deserue no lesse reproche then beastes merite prayse: for after that the females by generacion are bigge, they neuer agre that the males should accompany with theym. Accordinge to the diuersitye of nacions, so amonge themselues they differ the one from the other, in lawes, languages, ceremonyes, and customes: but in the ende all agre in one thinge, for that they inforce themselues to celebrate mariage. As the scriptures teacheth vs, Since the worlde was created, there hath nothyng bene more auncient, then the sacrament of mariage: for that daye that man was formed, the selfe same day he celebrated mariage with a wo­man in the terestrial paradise. The auncient historiographers (aswell Gre­kes as latins) wrote many great thinges in the prayse of mariage: but they could not say nor write so much, as continuall experience doth shew vs. Therfore leauing the superfluous, and taking the most necessary, we saye that fyue commodyties folow the sage man, who hath taken the yoke of matrimonye.

The first is, the memory whych remayneth to the children as successours and heires of their fathers. For as the phylosopher Pithagoras sayth, when a father passeth out of this present lyfe, and leaueth behind him a child being hys heire, they cannot say vnto him that he dieth, but that he waxeth yonge in his chyld, since the chyld dooth inherite the fleshe, the goodes, and the memorye of the father. Amonge the auncientes it was a common pro­uerbe, that the taste of all tastes is bread, the sauor of sauours is salte, and the greatest loue of al loues is from the fathers to the children. And though [Page] perchaunce we see the fathers shew some rigor to their children, we ought not therfore to say that they hate them, and dispise them: for the tender loue of the father to the sonne is such, that he cannot endure him to do any thing amysse, or worthye of rebuke. Not only men of reason and brute beastes, but also the hedge and gardeine trees, to their possibylitye procure to con­tinewe their kind: and it is plainly sene, in that before the fruites and her­bes were formed to be eaten, the seades and kirnelles were made to be kept. Men naturally desire honour in their lyfe, and memory after their death. Therfore I say, that they come to honour by highe, and noble, and heroical fac [...]es, but the memorye is left by the good and legittimate children: for the chyldren which are borne in adultery, are begotten in sinne, and with great care are nourished.

The second benefite of mariage is, that they avoide adultery, and it is no smal matter to auoide this vyce. For the adulterers are not only taken in the christian relygion for offendours: but also amongest the gentyles they are counted infamous.

The sage Solon in the lawes y^t he gaue to the Athenians, comaunded vpon straighte preceptes that they should mary, to auoide adulterye, vpon paine that the chyld that should be borne in adulterye, should be made the comon slaue of the city. The Romaynes (as men foreseinge all things) ordey­ned in the tables of their lawes, that the children which were borne in adul­terie, should not be heires of the goodes of their fathers. When y^e oratoure Eschines was bannished out of Athens, as he came by the Rhodes, he toke no such paines in any one thing as he did in perswadyng the Rhodians to mary and not to liue in adultery: for amonge those barbarous, matrimonye was not common, but only amonge them which were officers of the common wealth. Cicero in a famylyer epystell sayth, that the great Romayne Marcus Porcio being gouernour in the common wealth, neuer agred that an vncle of his shold be maister of the Romaine cheualry, vnlesse he were maried: which office was promysed him by the senate. His name was Rufus, a stout and va­lyaunt man in warre: this notwithstandyng Marcus Porcio sayde, that that praise which Rufus deserued for being valyaunt and hardy: he lost againe for lyuing in adultery. And that he would neuer graunt his voyce, nor be in place where they commytted any charge in the warres, to a man that had not a lawfull wife. I say therfore, that if the gentyles and infidels estemed mariage so much, & dyspised the dedes of y^t adulterers so greatly: much more Christians should be in this case ware & circumspect. For the gentiles feared nothing but only infamy: but the christiās ought to feare both infamy & also paine. Since that of necessity mans sede must increase and that we se men suffer theym selues to be ouercome wyth the fleshe: it weare muche better they should maintaine a househoulde, and lyue vprightly wyth a wife: then to wast their goodes, and burden their conscyence with a concubyne. For it is oft tymes seene, that that whiche a gentleman consumeth abrode vppon an harlotte wythe shame, woulde keape his wyfe and chyldren at home with honesty.

The third commodytie of mariage is, the laudable and louing company, [Page 86] the which is, or ought to be betwene them that are maryed. The auncient Philosophers defining what man was, sayde, that he was a creature, the whych by nature was sociable, communycable, and risyble, wherof it folo­weth, that the man being solitarye and close in his condicions, can not be in his stomacke but enuyous. We that are men loue the good inclinacion, and do also commend the same in beastes: for all that the sedicious man and the restye horse eate, we thinke it euyl spent. A sad man, a sole man, a man shut in, and solytary, what profite can he do to the people? for if euery man should be locked vp in his house, the common wealth should forthwith perish. My intencion is to speake against the vacabondes, which without taking vpon them any craft or facultie, passe the age of forty, or fifty yeares, and woulde not, nor wil not marie yet, because they woulde be vicious all the dayes of their lyfe. It is a great shame and conscyence to many men, that neuer de­termine with them selues to take vpon them any estate, neyther to be ma­ryed, chast, secular, or ecclesiastiall: but as the corke vppon the water they swyme, whether their sensualytie leadeth them. One of the most lawdable & holy compagnyes which is in this lyfe, is y^e compagny of the man & the wo­man, inespeciallye if the woman be vertuous: for the noble and vertuous wife, withdraweth al the sorowes from the hart of her husband, and accom­plisheth his desires, wherby he lyueth at rest. When the wyfe is vertuous, & the husband wise, we ought to beleue that betwene them two is the true loue: for the one not being suspect with the other, and hauing children in the myddest, it is vnpossible but that they should lyue in concord. For al that I haue red and sene I would say, that if the man and the wife do lyue quyet­ly together, a man may not only cal them good maried folkes, but also holy personnes: for to speake the truth, the yoke of matrimony is so great, that it cannot be accomplished without much merite. The contrary ought and may be saied of those whych are euill maried, whom we wil not cal a com­paigny of sayntes, but rather a house of deuylles. For the wife that hath an euil husbande, may say she hath a deuyl in her house: and the husband that hath an euil wife, let him make accompt that he hath hel it selfe in his house. For the euyl wyues are worse then the infernal furyes. Because in hel ther are none tormented but y^e euil only: but the euil woman tormēteth, both the good, and the euyl. Concluding therfore this matter, I say also and affirme, that betwixt the busband and the wife which are wel maryed, is the true and very loue: and they only, and no others, may be called perfite and perpe­tuall frendes. The other parentes and frendes, if they do loue and praise vs in our presence, they hate vs and dispise vs in our absence. Yf they giue vs faire wordes, they beare vs euill hartes: finally they loue vs in our prosperi­tye, and forsake vs in our aduersity: but it is not so amongest the noble and vertuous maried personnes. For they loue both within and without the house, in prosperity, and in aduersitie, in pouertie, and in riches, in absence, and in presence, seing them selues mery, and perceiuing them selues sad, and if they do it not, trulye they ought to doo it: for when the husband is trou­bled in his foote, the wyfe ought to be greued at her hart.

The fourth commodity of mariage is, that the men and women maryed haue more aucthority and grauity then the others. The lawes whych were [Page] made in old time in the fauour of mariage, were many and diuerse. For Cha­pharoneus, in the lawes y^t he gaue to the Egiptians, commaunded and ordey­ned vpon greuous paynes, that the man that was not maried, should not haue any office of gouernment in the common wealth. And he sayd furder, that he that hath not learned to gouerne his house, can euil gouerne a com­mō wealth. Accordyng to the lawes y^t he gaue to the Athenians, he perswaded al those of y^e comon wealth to marie themselues voluntarily: but to the hed­des and captaines, which gouerne the affaires of warre, he commaunded to marye of necessity, sayeng that to men which are lecherous, God seldome giueth victories Licurgus the renowmed gouernour and geuer of the lawes of the Lacedemonians, commaunded, that al captaines of the armyes, and the priestes of the Temples should be maried: sayeng that the sacrifyces of ma­ried men were more acceptable to the gods, then those of any other. As Ply­nie sayth, in an epistle that he sent to Falconius his frende, rebuking him for that he was not maried, where he declareth that the Romaynes in old time had a law, that the dictatoure, and the Pretor, the Censour, and the Questor, and al the knightes should of necessity be maried: for the man that hath not a wife and children legittymate in his house, cannot haue nor hold greate aucthority in the common wealth. Plutarche, in the booke that he made of the prayse of mariage sayth, that the priestes of the Romaynes dyd not agre to them that were vnmaried, to come and sytte downe in the Temples: so that the yong maydens prayed without at the church dore, and the yonge men prayed on their knees in the temple, only the maried men were permit­ted to sitte or stande. Plynie in an epistle that he wrote to Fabatus hys father in law sayth, that the Emperour Augustus had a custome, that he neuer suf­fered any yonge man in his presence to sitte, nor permitted any man maried to tel his tale on foote. Plutarche in the booke that he made in the prayse of women sayth, that since the realme of Corinthe was peopled more with Ba­chelours, then with maried men: they ordeyned amongest theym, that the man or woman that had not bene maried and also that had not kept chyl­dren and house, (if they lyued after a certaine age) after their death shoulde not be buried.

¶The aucthoure folowing his purpose, declareth that by meanes of maryage, many mortal enemyes haue bene made good and parfite frendes. Cap. iii.

BY the sundry examples that we haue declared, and by al that whych re­mayneth to declare, a man may know wel enoughe of what excellen­cy matrimony is, not only for the charge of conscience, but also for the thinges touching honour: for to say the truth, the men that in the common wealth are maried, giue smal occasion to be sclaundered, & haue more cause to be honored. We cannot denay, but that matrimony is troublesome & char­geable to them y^t be maried for two causes. The one is in bringing vp their children, and the other in suffering the importunityes of their mothers. Yet in fi [...]e we cānot deny, but that the good & vertuous wife is she that setteth a stay in the house, and kepeth her husband in estimacion in the common wealth: for in the publike affaires, they giue more faith and credit vnto those [Page 87] that are charged with children, then vnto others that are loden with yeres.

The fifth commodity that ensueth matrimony, is the peace and recon­ciliacions that are made betwene the enemyes, by meanes of mariage. Mē in this age are so couetous, so importune, and malicious, that there are ve­ry few but haue enemyes, wherby groweth contencion and debate: for by our weaknes, we fall dayly into a thousande occasions of enimities: and scarcely we can find one to bring vs againe into frendship, Cōsidering what men desire, what thinges they procure, and wherunto they aspire. I mer­uaile not that they haue so few frendes: but I much muse that they haue no moe enemyes. For in thinges of weight, they marke not who haue bene their frendes, they consider not they are their neighbours, neyther they re­gard that they are christians: but their conscience layd a part, and honesty set a side, euery man seketh for himselfe, and his owne affaires, though it be to the preiudice of all his neighbours. What frendship can ther be amongest proud men, since the one wil go before, and the other disdayneth to come be­hind? What frendship can ther be amongest enuyous men▪ since the one pur­chasseth, and the other possesseth? what loue can there be betwene two co­uetous men, since the one dare not spend, and the other is neuer satisfyed to hourd, and heape vp. For al that we can reade, se, go, and trauaile, and for al that we may do, we shall neuer se nor here tell of men that haue lacked ene­myes: for eyther they be vycious, or vertuous. Yf they be euil and vycious, they are alwayes hated of the good: and if they be good and vertuous, they are continually persecuted of the euill. Many of the auncient philosophers spent a great part of their time, & lost much of their goodes, to serche for re­medies and meanes to reconcile them that were at debate, & contencion, & to make them by gentlenes good frends and louers. Some said that it was good and profitable, to forget the enimities for a time: for many things are pardoned in tyme, which by reason could neuer take end. Others sayd that for to appease the enemyes, it was good to offer money, because moneye doth not only breake the feminate and tender hartes, but also the hard and craggy rockes. Others saied that the best remedie was, to set good men to be mediatours betwene them, in especially if they were sage and wise men: for the honest faces & stout hartes are ashamed when they are proferred mo­ney, and the good do humble them selues by intreaty. These meanes well considered, and the remydies wel soughte out to make frendes, there are none so ready, & so true as mariage: for the mariage done sacramentally is of such & so great excellency, that betwene some it causeth perfite frendship, & betwene others it appeaseth great iniuries. During the time y^t Iulius Cesar kept him selfe as father in law to the great Pompeius, & that Pompeius helde himselfe his sonne in law, ther was neuer euil wil nor quarels betwene thē: but after that Pompeius was deuorced from the house of Cesar, hatred, enuy, & enimities engendered betwene them: in such sort y^t they contended in suche & so cruell warres, that Pompeius against his wil lost his head, & also Iulius Cesar shortned his life. When those that dwelled in Rome rauished & robbed the doughters of y^e Sabines, if after they had not chaunged their counsel, & of theues to become husbandes, without doubt the Romaines had bene all de­stroyed: for the Sabines had made an othe to aduenture both their goodes and [Page] their lyues, for to reueng the iniuries done vnto them, their doughters, and wiues: but by the meanes of mariage, they were conferred in great amity and loue. For the Romaines receued in mariage the doughters of the Sabines whom before they had rauished. Greater enimity ther cānot be, then that of god towards men, through the sinne of Adam: notwithstanding ther neuer was, nor neuer shalbe greater frendship then that, which was made by the godly maryage: and for greater aucthority to confirme mariage, the sonne of god woulde that his mother should be maried, and afterward he himselfe was present at a mariage, where he turned the water into wine, though now a days the euil maried men do turne the wine into water. He doth not speake here of religious personnes, nor men of the Church, neither of those which are closed in deuout places: for those (fleing the occasions of the world, and chosing the wayes lesse daungerous) haue offered their soules to god, & with their bodyes haue done him acceptable sacrifices: For ther is difference betwene the relygion of Christ, and the sinfull Sinagoge of the Iewes: for they offered kyddes and muttons, but here are not offered but teares and sighes. Leauyng therfore all those secretes apart, which men ought to leaue to God: I say and affirme, that it is a holy and commendable counsel, to vse his profite with the Sacrament of mariage: the which though it be ta­ken of al voluntaryly, yet Princes & great lordes ought to take it necessa­rily. For the prynce that hath no wife nor chyldren shal haue in his realme, much grudgyng and displeasure. Plutarche in the booke he made of mariage sayth, that amongest the Lidiens ther was a law wel obserued and kept, that of necessity their kings and gouernours should be maried: & they had such respect to this thing, and were so circumspect in this matter, that if a prince dyed and left his heire an infant, they would not suffer him to gouerne the realme vntil he were maried. And they greatly lamented the day of the de­parting of their Quene out of this lyfe: for with her death, the gouermente ceased, the royal aucthorytie remained voyd, and the common wealth with out gouernment, so long tyme as the king deferred to take another wyfe: & so they were some times, without kyng, or gouernment. For princes are, or ought to be, the mirrour and example of al, to lyue honest, and temperate, the which cannot welbe done vnlesse they be maried, or that they se themselues to be conquerers of the flesh, & being so they are satisfyed: but if they be not maried and the flesh doth assault them, then they lyue immedyatly conque­red. Wherfore of necessity they must go by their neighbours houses, or els by some other dishonest places scattered abrode, to the reproch and dyshonour of them and their kindredes: and oftentymes to the great peryl and daun­ger of their parsonnes.

¶Of sundry and diuerse lawes which the auncientes had in contractinge matrimony, not only in the choise of women, but also in the maner of ce­lebrating mariage. Cap. iii.

IN al nacions, and in al the Realmes of the world, mariage hath alwayes bene accepted, and maruailously commended: for other wyse the world had not ben peopled, nor yet the nomber of men multyplyed.

[Page 88]The auncientes neuer disagreed one from another, in the approbation and acception of mariage: but ther was amongest them great difference, & strife, vpon the contractes, ceremonies, and vsages of the same. For they vsed as muche difference in contractinge matrimony, and chosinge their wyues: as these Epicures doe desire, the varietie of sundry delicate meates. The deuine Plato in his booke he made of the common wealth, did councel that al things should be common, and that not onely in brute beastes, in mouables, and heritages, but also that women should be commen: for he saide, that if these twoo wordes, thine, and mine, were abolisshed and out of vse, there shoulde not be debates, nor quarelles in this worlde. They call Plato deuine, for many good thinges whiche he spake: but nowe they may call him worldly, for the councell profane whiche he gaue. I can not tell what beaste lines it may be called, nor what greater rewdenes may be thought, that the apparrell shuld be proper, and the wyues commen. The brute beaste doth not knowe that whiche came out of her belly, longer then it sucketh of her breastes. And in this sorte it would chaunce to men, yea and worse to, if women were com­men in the common wealth. For though one shoulde knowe the mother, whiche hath borne him: he should not knowe the father that hath begotten him. The Tharentines (whiche were well renowmed amongest the aun­cientes, and not a litle feared of the Romaines) had in their citie of Tharente a lawe and custome, to marie them selues with a legittimate wife, and to be­gette children: but besides her a man might yet chose twoo others for his se­cret pleasures. Spartianus saide that the Emperour Hellus Verus, as thouching women, was very dissolute: and since his wife was younge and faire, and that she did complaine of hym because he ledde no honest lyfe with her, he spake these wordes vnto her. My wyfe, thou haste no cause to complayne of me, synce I remayne with thee vntill suche tyme as thou arte quicke with chylde: For the residue of the tyme, we husbandes haue licence and priuilege to seke our pastimes with other women. For this name of a wyfe, contey­neth in it honour: but for the residue, it is a greuous burden and painfull of­fice. The like matter came to Ptolome [...]s king of Egipt, of whom the queene his wife did greatly complaine. Admitte that all the Grekes haue bene este­med to be very wyse, amongest all those the Athenians were estemed of most excellent vertue: for the sages that gouerned the common wealth, remained in Athens with the philosophers which taught the sciences. The sages of A­thens ordeined, that all the neighbours and inhabitauntes might kepe twoo lawful wiues, & furthermore vpon paine of greuous punishmentes did cō ­maunde, y^t none shuld presume, nor be so hardie to maintaine any concubine: for they sayde, when men haunte the companie of light women, commonly they misuse their lawfull wiues. As Plutarche saith in his politiques, the cause why the Grekes made this lawe was, considering that man coulde not, nor ought not to liue without the company of a womā: and therfore they wold that man shuld mary with two wiues. For if the one were diseased and lay in, yet the other might serue in bedde, wayte at the table, and doe other busynes in the house. Those of Athens had an other great respect and conside­ration to make this lawe, which was this, that if it chaunced the one to be barrayne, the other should brynge foorth chyldren in the common wealthe: [Page] and in suche case she that brought forth children, should be estemed for mai­stres: and the other that was barraine, should be taken for a seruaunt. Whē this law was made, Socrates was married with Xantippa, and to accomplish the lawe, he toke an other called Mitra, whiche was the doughter of the phi­losopher Aristides: and sithe those two women had great quarrels, & debates together, and that thereby they slaundered their neighbours, Socrates sayde vnto them. My wyues, you see righte well that my eyes are holowe, my legges are wythered, my handes are wryncled, my head is balde, the body is litle, and the heares are whyte: why doe ye then that are so faire, stand in cō ­tention and strife for me that am so defourmed? though Socrates sayde these wordes (as it were in ieste) yet suche woordes were occasion, that the quar­relles and strifes betwene them ceased. The Lacedemonians (that in tyme of peace and warre, were alwayes contrarie to the Athenians) obserued it for an inuiolate lawe, not that one man should mary with twoo wyues, but that one woman should mary with twoo husbandes: and the reason was, that when one husbande should go to the warres, the other should tary at home. For they sayde, that a man in no wyse should agree to leaue his wife alone in the common wealth. Plinie wryting an Epistle to his frende Locratius, and saint Hyerome wryting to a friere called Rusticus saieth, that the Athenians dyd vse to marie the bretherne with the sisters: but they did not permitte the Auntes to marie with their nephewes, neither the vncles with their neices. For they saide, that brothers and sisters to marye togethers, was to marye with their semblable: but for vncles to marye nieces, and auntes with ne­phewes, was as of fathers to doughters, & of mothers to sonnes. Melciades whiche was a man of great renowne amongest the Gretians, had a sonne called Cymonius who was maried to his syster called Pinicea, and beinge de­maunded of one why he toke his sister in mariage, he aunswered: my syster is fayre, sage, ryche, and made to my appetite, and her father and myne dyd recommaund her vnto me, and since by the commaundement of the Gods a man ought to accomplishe the behestes and requestes of fathers: I haue de­termined (since nature hath geuen her me for my syster) willingly to take her for my lawfull wyfe. Diodorus Siculus sayth, that before the Egiptians recei­ued any lawes, euery man had as many wyues as he would: and this was at the libertie of both parties, for as muche as if she would go, she went libe­rally, and forsooke the man: and likewise he left her, when she displeased him. For they saide that it was impossible for men and women to liue long toge­thers, without muche trouble, contentions, and brawles. Diodorus Siculus said one thing, speaking of this matter, that I neuer red in any booke, nor heard of the auncientes paste, whiche was that amongest the Egiptians there was no difference in children: for they accōpted them all legittimate, though they were children of slaues. For they saide, that the principall doer of the ge­neration was the father, and not the mother, and that therefore the children whiche were borne among them, toke only the fleshe of the mother, but they did inherite the honour and dignitie of the parte of the father. Iulius Caesar in his commentaries saieth, that (in great Britaine, called nowe Englande) the Britons had an vse, that one woman was maried vnto fiue men, the which beastlines is not redde to haue bene in any nation of times paste: for if it be [Page 89] sclaunder for one man to haue diuers wyues, why shoulde it not also be a sclanderous and shamefull thing, for one woman to haue many husbandes. The noble and vertuous women ought to be maried for twoo causes. The first to the ende God should geue them children, and benediction, to whome they may leaue their goodes, and their memory. The second, to thend they should liue euery one in their owne house, accompanied and honoured with their husbandes. For otherwise, I saie for a truthe, that the woman that is not contented and satisfied with her owne propre husbande, will not be con­tented nor satisfied with all men in the worlde. Plutarche in his apotheames sayeth, that the Cymbres did vse to mary with their propre & naturall dough­ters: the whiche custome was taken from them by the Consul Marius, after that he did ouercome them in Germany, and that of them he had triumphed at Rome. For the chylde whiche was borne of suche mariage, was sonne of the doughter of one sole father, and was sonne and brother of one onely mo­ther, and they were also cosins, nephewes, and brother of one onely father & brother. Truly suche custome procedeth rather of wylde beastes, then of rea­sonable creatures: for many or the more parte of brute beastes (after the fe­males haue brought forth males) within one yeare after they doe accompany with their dammes which brought them forth. Strabo in the situation of the worlde, and Seneca in an Epistle saye, that the Lydes and the Armenians had a custome, to sende their doughters to the Ryuers and hauens of the sea to gette their mariages, selling their owne bodies to straungers: so that those whiche would marie were firste forced to sell their virginitie. The Romains (whiche in all their affayres and busynesses were more sage and modeste, then other nations) vsed muche circumspection in all their mariages: For they kepte it as an auncient lawe, and vse accustomed, that euery Romaine should marie with one woman, and no mo. For euen as to kepe two wyues among the Christians, is a great conscience; so was it demed amongest the Romaines muche infamie.

Amongest the auncient and renowmed oratours of Rome, one was cal­led Metellus Numidicus, the whiche one daye makinge his oration to the Se­nate, sayde these wordes. Worthy Senatours, I let you vnderstande, that I haue greatly studied what the counselles should be, that I ought to geue ye touching mariage: For the counsell rashe and sodeyne, oftentymes is not profitable. I doe not perswade you at all to mary, neyther doe saye that ye shall not mary: but it is true, that if ye can lyue without a woman, yee shall be free from many troubles. But what shall we doe, O ye Romaines, synce that nature hath made vs such, that to kepe women it is a great trou­ble: and to lyue without them, it is more daunger. I dare saye (if in this case my opinion myght be accepted) that it should not be euyll done to resiste the lust, since it cōmeth by fittes: and not to take wiues, which are continuall troubles. These were the wordes, which Metellus Numidicus spake, the which were not very acceptable, nor pleasaunt to the fathers being in the Senate: for they would not that he shuld haue spoken such wordes against mariage. For there is no estate in this lyfe, wherein fortune sheweth her force more: then in this state of matrimonie. A man maye proue them in this sort, that if the fashions and vsages of the auncientes were diuerse, as concernynge [Page] ordinaunce: truly there was no lesse contrarietie in their contractes, and ceremonies. Boccase the Florentine, in a booke that he made of the mariages of the auncientes, reciteth many and sondrie customes that they vsed in ma­king the mariages, whereof he telleth some, not for to allowe, nor maintaine them: but to reproue and condemne them. For the wryters did neuer wryte the vices of some, but onely to make the vertues of others more clerely to be knowen. The Cymbres had a custome that when they would marie (after the mariage was nowe agreed vpon) he that was made sure, shoulde pare his nayles, and sende them to his wife that should be: and she in like sorte sent hers vnto him. And then when she of him, and he of her had receiued the nayles the one of the other, they toke them selues maried for euer: and did af­terwardes liue together as man and wyfe. The Theutonians had a ceremo­nie, that the man that was sure, rounded the heere of her to whome he was made sure, and she did the lyke vnto him: and when the one suffered the o­ther to doe so, immediatly they celebrated mariage. The Armenians hadde a lawe, that the brydegrome should pinche the right eare of the bryde, and the bryde should likewyse pinche the lefte eare of the brydegrome: and then they tooke them selues maried for euer. The Elamites had a custome, that both parties whiche were made sure, pricked one the others litle finger vntil they bledde: the whiche bloud they did sucke naturally, and this done they were maried. The Numidians vsed, that the brydegrome and the bryde shoulde gather together a pece of earth, and with their spet tell they tempered it, and therewith the one annointed the foreheade of the other: so that the ma­riage betwene theym, was to annoynte the one and the other with a litle claye. When those of Dace would be maried, the brydegrome and the bryde, eche one by them selues, were brought in chariottes, the one metinge the o­ther: and when they came togethers, the brydegrome gaue a newe name to the bryde, and she likewyse to him, and from that tyme forewarde they liued as in lawfull matrimony. When those of Hungary would marye, the one sent vnto the other a familier god made of syluer, whom they called Lares, and when they had receiued the God of eche other, the mariage was fini­shed, and they lyued as man and wyfe. The Siconians had a custome and lawe, that when they should mary, the one sent to the other a shooe: and that receiued of both, they agreed to the mariage. The Tharentins had a custome, that when they did marie, they set them selues at the table to eate, and the one did feade the other: so that if by mishappe the one should chaunce to feade him selfe, that mariage was not estemed for constant, nor good. The Sci­thes had a custome, and they kept it as a lawe, that when men and women should marie, as nowe they touche the handes the one of the other: so did they them touche with their feete, afterwards they set together their knees, then they touched with their handes, and then they sette their buttockes to­gether, and so their heades, and in the ende they imbraced the one the other. All these ceremonies done, the mariages were assured, and sufficiently con­firmed: and so we might saye of many others, but to auoyde tediousnes we will folowe our matter.

¶ How Princesses and great Ladies ought to loue their husbandes, and that loue ought not by coniurations, and enchauntementes to be procured: but by wisedome, honestie, and vertue desired. Cap. iiii.

[Page 90]ALl men that desire to achieue and obteyne any worthy thinge in this life, inuente and searche many meanes to come thereunto: for men by good prouision and circumspection compasse sondrie thinges, whiche otherwise they should loose, onlesse thei would by force take them. As in the mariages of our christian religion, wherin we doe not suffer, that the man & the wife be parentes, and nigh of bloud: leauing a part that the one is a mā, and the other a woman, that the one is strong, & the other weake: oft times it chaunceth, that there is betwene the man and the wyfe more contrarietie in conditions, then diuersitie in linage. I would saye therfore (for healthfull counsel, & necessary aduice) to y^e great dames, & princesses, & to al other wiues, since they must nedes eate and drinke with their husbandes, that they must sleape, treate, be conuersaunt, & talke, & finally liue & die with their husbands, that they should vse muche diligence to beare with their conditions: for to say the trothe, the wife ought in all thinges to folowe the conditions of her husband, & the husbād in some thing to beare with the cōditions of his wife. So that she by her pacience ought to suffer the imperf [...]ctions of him, and he likewise by his wisdome ought to dissemble the importunities of her: and in such sorte they ought to agree & loue togethers, that all those of the common wealth should reioyce at their behauiours. For maried men, which are qua­rellers & sedicious persones, the neighbours in steade of weeping & wailing for the depriuation of their life, demaund giftes the one of the other for brin­ging newes of their [...] [...]mit that the husband be couetous, & vnthrifty, that he be deformed in his body, that he be rude in condition, base of linage, rashe in his speache, in aduersities fearefull, in prosperities carelesse, in the end being (as he is) husbande, we can not denie but in the house he ought to be chiefe maister. For the which it is also necessary, that we geue now vnto the wyues some healthfull counsell, whereby they may beare and suffre quietly suche great troubles. For at this daye there is no husbande so louing, nor so vertuous, in whom the wife shall not finde some euill conditions. First of al wiues ought to endeuour them selues to loue their husbandes vnfainedly, if they desire their husbandes should loue them without dissimulation: for as we see by experience, mariage is seldome broken through pouertie, nor yet continued with riches. For the euill maried folkes through debate, and strife, be separated in on week, where as by good and true loue they are preserued all the dayes of their life. To eate drie and vnsauory meates, they vse to take salte for to amende it. I meane, that the burdens of matrimonie are many, and troublesome, the whiche all with loue onely maye be endured. For as Plato the deuine philosopher sayeth, one thinge oughte not to be called more painefull then an other, for the labour we thereunto employ: but for the great or small loue that thereunto we haue. Though some sondry thyngs be trou­blesome and tedious, yet when with loue it is begonne, it is easely folowed, and ioyefully achieued: for that trauayle is nothyng noysome, where loue is the mediatour. I knowe right well and doe confesse that the counsell whiche I geue to women is sharpe, that is: for an honest woman to loue a dissolute man, for a sage wyfe to loue a foolishe husbande, for a vertuous wyfe, to loue a vitious husbande. For as dayly experience sheweth, there are some men of so foolish conditions, & other women of so noble conuersation, [Page] that by reason apparant they ought to take them for mistresses, rather then they should accepte them for husbandes. Although this, in some particuler cases is true, I saye and affirme, that generally all women are bounde to loue their husbandes, since that willingly, and not by compulsion they were not enforced to take them: for in like manner, if the mariage pleased not the woman, she hath not so much cause to complaine of her husbande for asking her: as she hath reason to complayne of her owne selfe that accepted hym. For the misfortunes that by our folly doe chaunce, though we haue cause to lamente them, we ought also to haue reason to dissemble them. Be the man neuer so wylde and euill brought vp, it is impossible, if the wife loue him, but he must nedes loue her againe. And though perchaunce he can not force his euill condition to loue her, yet at the leaste he shall haue no occasion to hate her. The whiche ought not to be litle estemed, for there are many wyues not onely of the Plebeians, but also of the noble dames, that coulde be content to forgeue their husbandes all the pleasure they should doe them, and also all the loue that they ought to shewe: if they would refraine their tongues from speaking iniurious wordes, and kepe their handes from dealinge lothsome stripes. We haue many notable examples in histories, of manye noble and stoute Ladies (as well Grekes as Romaines) whiche after they were ma­ried, had so great faithfulnes, and bare suche loyaltie to their husbandes: that they not onely folowed them in their trauailes, but also deliuered them in their daungers. Plutarche in the booke of noble women declareth, that the Lacedemonians, keping many nobles of the Athenians prisoners (whiche at that tyme were their cruell and mortall enemies) and beinge iudged to die: their wyues concluded to goe to the pryson where they laye, and in the ende they obtayned of the Gayler thereof, that they myght goe in, and talke with their husbandes: for in dede the teares were many that before them were shed, & the giftes were not fewe whiche vnto them were offered. The wiues there­fore entring into the pryson did not onely chaunge their apparell with their husbandes, but also the libertie of their personnes: for they went out as wo­men, and the women in their steades remained there as men. And when they brought out these innocent wyues from pryson, to execute iustice, sup­posing they were men, the Lacedemonians vnderstandinge the faithfulnes of the women, determined that they should not only be pardoned: but also that they should be greatly rewarded, and honoured, for the good examples of o­ther women to whom they were maried. The auncient and great renow­med Panthea, when newes was brought her that her husbande was dead in the battayle, she her owne selfe determined to goe seke him out, with hope that as yet he was not vtterly dead: and fynding him dead, with the bloud of him she washed all her body, and likewyse her face, stryking with a knife her selfe to the harte, and imbracing her husbande she yelded vp the ghost, & so togethers they were caried to the graue. Porcia, the doughter of Marcus Por­cia the great, when she hearde that her husband Brutus was taken and slayn, she felte for that newes so great sorowe, that all her frendes seinge her take the matter so greuously, hidde from her all Irone where with she might kill her selfe: and did laboure to kepe and preserue her from daungers, wherein she might fall and shorten her life. For she was so excellent a Romaine, and [Page 91] so necessary to the common wealth, that if they had lamented the death of Brutus her husband, with teares of their eies: they ought to bewayle the losse of his wife Porcia, with droppes of bloud in their hartes. Porcia therefore fee­ling in her selfe a wofull and afflicted harte, for the death of her entierly belo­ued husband, to declare that that whiche she did was not fained, nor for to please the people, but to satisfie her great & marueilous loue: since she founde neither sworde nor knife to kill her selfe, nor corde to hange her selfe, neither welle to drowne her in, she went to the fire, and with as great pleasure did eate the hote firie coales, as an other would haue eaten any delicate meates. We may say that such kinde of death was very straunge and newe, whiche the Romaine founde to encrease, augmente, and manifest her loue: Yet we can not denie, but that she wanne to the posteritie of her name a perpetuall memorie. For as a noble dame she would quenche with coles of fire her bur­ning harte, that enflamed was with firie brondes of loue. As Diodorus Sicu­lus saith, it was a lawe & custome amongest the Lidians, to mary them selues with many wiues: and whan by chaunce their husbandes died, the wiues which they had met together, and fought in some plaine place. And the wo­men which remained only aliue, and of the conflict had the victory, cast them selues into the graue of their husbande: so that those women then fought for to die, as men nowe fight for to liue.

¶Of the reuenge a woman of Grece toke of him that had killed her husband, in hope to haue her in mariage. Cap. v.

PLutarche in the booke that he made of the noble and worthy women, de­clareth a thing worthy of rehersall, and to be had in memory.

In the citie of Galacia were two renowmed citezens, whose names were, Sinatus & Sinoris, whiche were by bloud cosins, & in familiaritie frendes: and for the loue of a Grekes doughter, being very noble, beautifull, and ex­ceading gratious, they both striued to haue her in mariage, and for to attain to their desires, they both serued her, they both folowed her, they both loued her, and for her both of them desired to die. For the dart of loue, is as a stroke with a clod of earth: the which being throwen amongest a company, dothe hurte the one, and blinde the others. And as the fatal destinees had ordeined it. Sinatus serued this lady called Camma in suche sorte, that in the ende he ob­teined her in mariage for his lawfull wife: whiche thing when Sinoris percei­ued, he was ashamed of his doinges, & was also wounded in his harte. For he lost not only that, which of so long time he had sought, loued, and serued: but also the hope to attaine to that, which chiefly in his life he desired. Sinatus therfore seing that his wife Camma was noble, meke, gratious, faire, and lo­uing, and that in all thinges she was comely and well taught: decreed to of­fer her to the goddesse Diana, to the end that she would preserue her from pe­ril, and keape her from infamie. Truly we cannot reproue the knight Sinatus for that he did, nor we ought to note him for rashe in his counsel: for he sawe that his wife was very faire, and therfore much desired. For with great dif­ficultie that is kepte, whiche of many is desired. Though Camma was nowe married, and that she was in the protectiō of the goddesse Diana: yet notwith­standing her olde frend Sinoris died for her sake, and by all meanes possible he serued her, continually he importuned her, daily he folowed her, & howerly [Page] he required her. And all this he did, vppon certayne hope he had, that suche diligent seruice should suffice to make her chaunge her sacred mynde: and as she had chosen Sinatus for her husbande openly, so he thought she shoulde take him for her frend secretly. For many women are as men without tast through sickenes, the which eate more of that that is hurtful and forbidden: then of that whiche is healthsome, and commaunded. Not without a cause Camma was greatly renowmed throughout all Galatia for her beautie: and much more among the vertuous esteamed for her honestie. The which eui­dently in this was sene, that after she was maried, Sinoris could neuer cause her to receiue any iewell, or other gifte, nor that she would heare him speake any worde, nor that she would shew her selfe in the wyndowe, either to him, or to any other, to the ende to be sene in the face. For it is not sufficient for Ladies to be pure good: but also to geue no occasion for men to iudge (that if they durste) they would be euill. As it is true in dede, that the harte which is intangled with loue, dare boldely aduenture him selfe in many kynde of daungers, to accomplishe that whiche he desired: so Sinoris seing that with faire wordes he could not flatter her, nor with any giftes wynne her, deter­mined to kyll Sinatus her husbande, vpon hope that when she should be wy­dowe, he might easely obteine her in matrimonie. For he thought although Camma was not euyll, it was not for that she wanted desier to do it: but be­cause she had no commodious place to accomplishe it. And to be shorte, Si­noris would neades execute and bryng to effect his deuellyshe and damna­ble intente: so that sone after he vylie slewe his saide compaignion Sinatus. After whose death the noble lady Camma was of Sinoris greatly desired, and by his parentes muche importuned, that she would condiscende to take and mary him, and that she would forgyue him the death of her husband Sinatus, whiche then was buried. And as she was in all her doinges suche a prince­ly woman, she imagened with her selfe, that vnder the pretence of mariage, she might haue opportunitie to accomplishe her desiers: wherfore she aun­swered vnto his parentes, that she did accepte their counsel, and saide to Si­noris that she did choose him for her husbande, speakyng these woordes more for to comforte him, then with intente to pardon him. And as amongest those of Galatia there was a custome, that the newe maried folkes shoulde eate togethers in one dishe, and drynke in one cuppe: the daye that the ma­riage was celebrated, Camma determined to prepare a cuppe with poyson, and also a lute, wherewith she began to playe, and singe with her propre voyce before the goddesse Diana in this maner.

AND when the praier was ended, that this faire and vertuous Camma made, she dranke, and gaue to drynke to Sinoris of this cuppe of poyson, who thought to drynke no other but good wyne and water: and the case was suche, that he died at noone daies, and she likewyse in the eueninge after. And truly her death of all Grece, with as great sorowe was lamented: as her life of all men was desired. Princesses and great Ladies, may moste euidently perceiue by the examples herein conteyned, howe honest and ho­nourable it is for them to loue, and endeuoure them selues to be beloued of their husbandes: and that not onely in their lyfe, but also after their deathe. For the wyfe to serue her husbande in his life, seameth oft tymes to proceade of feare: but to loue and honour him in his graue, proceadeth of loue. Prin­cesses and great Ladies ought not to doe that, which many other women of the common people doe, that is to wete, to seke some drinkes and inuente some shamefull sorceries to be beloued of their husbandes: for albeit it is a great burden of conscience, and lacke of shame in lyke maner to vse such su­perstitions, yet it should be a thing to vniust and very slaunderous, that for to be beloued of their husbandes, they should procure to bee hated of God. Truly to loue, to serue, and contente God, it is not hurtefull to the woman, for that she should be the better beloued of her husbande: but yet God hathe suffered, and doth permitte oftetymes, that the women beinge feble, defor­med poore, and negligent, should be better beloued of their husbandes, then the diligent, faire, and ryche. And this is not for the seruices they doe to their husbandes, but for the good intention they haue to serue, & loue God, whiche sheweth them this especiall fauour: for otherwyse God doth not suffer, that he being with her displeased, she should lyue with her husbande contented. If women would take this councell that I geue them in this case, I wil teache them furthermore a notable enchauntement, to obteine the loue of their husbandes, whiche is: that they be quiet, meke, pacient, solitary, and honest, with which fiue herbes they may make a confection, the which neither seene nor tasted of their husbands, shal not onely cause them to be beloued, but also ho­noured. For women ought to knowe that for their beautie they are desyred: but for their vertue onely they are beloued.

¶That Princesses and great Ladies ought to be obedient to their hus­bandes, and that it is a great shame to the husbande, that his wyfe should commaunde him. Cap. vi.

MAny auncient historiographers trauailed greatly, and consumed long tyme in wryting, to declare what authoritie the man ought to haue o­uer the woman, and what seruitude the woman oweth to the man: and some for to auaunce the dignitie of the man, and others to excuse the frailtie of the woman, alleged such vayne thinges, that it had bene more ho­nour [Page] for them not to haue written at all, then in suche sorte as they did. For it is not possible but the wryters should erre, whiche wryte not as reason teacheth, but rather as their fantasie leadeth. Those that defende the frailtie of the women saied, that the woman hath a body as a man, she hath a soule as a man, she hath reason as a man, dieth as a man, and was as necessarie for generation as man, she liueth as a man, and therefore they thought it not mete that she should be more subiect to man, then man to her: for it is not reason that that whiche nature hath made free, should by any lawes of man be made bond. They saide furthermore, that God created not the creatours, but to augmente the generation of mankinde, and that in this case the wo­man was more necessary then the man: for the man engendreth without payne or trauayle, but the woman is deliuered with perill and daunger, and with payne and trauayle norysheth vp the childe. Wherfore it seameth great vnkindnes and crueltie, that the women (whiche are deliuered with peryll, and daunger of their lyues, and brynge vp their chyldren with laboure, and toyle of their bodyes) should be vsed of their husbandes as sclaues. They sayed further, that men are those that cursse, that moue seditions, that make warres, that mayntayne enmytie, that weare weapons, that sheade mans bloude, and committe sondrie other mischiefes, whiche the women doe not: but in steade of kylling menne, sheading bloude, and other notorious euilles that men doe, they imploye them selues to increase men. And since it is so, then women, rather then men, oughte to haue dominion, and commaunde in the common wealthe: for women increase the common wealth, and men dyminishe it. For neyther deuine nor humayne lawe commaundeth, that the foolyshe man should be free, and gouerne: and that the wyse woman should be bonde, and serue. Those of Achaia affirmed this opinion, and groundeth them selues vppon this reason, and obserued it as a custome: that the husbandes should obeye, and the wyues commaunde. And so they dyd, as Plutarche sayeth in the booke of consolation: for the husbande swept and made cleane the house, made the bedde, wasshed the bucke, couered the table, dressed the dynner, and went for water. And of the contrary part, his wyfe gouerned the goodes, aunswered the affayres, kepte the money, & if she were angrye, shee gaue hym not onely foule woordes: but also ofte tymes layed her handes on hym, to reuenge her anger. And hereof came this auncient prouerbe, the which of many is redde, and of fewe vnderstanded: that is to wete, Vita Achaiae, the lyfe of an Achaian. When in Rome the hus­band suffred to be ruled & commaunded of his wyfe, the neighbours would saie vnto him in maner of a reproche, Vita Achaiae: whiche is as muche as if a man would say, go, go, as thou art, since thou liuest after the law of Achaia, where men haue so litle discretion, that they suffer them selues to be gouer­ned (be it well or euil) of their wyues, and that euery woman commaundeth her husbande. Plinie in an epistle that he wrote, reproued greatly his frende Fabatus, for that he kepte in his house a wyfe, the whiche in al his doinges ru­led and commaunded him: wherein he tolde him that he durst do nothinge, without her commaundement. And to make the matter to seme more hei­nous, in the latter ende of his epistle he saide these wordes, Me valde poenitet quod tu solus Rome polles vita Achaiae: whiche is, it greueth me muche that [Page 94] thou alone in Rome shouldest leade the life of one of Achaia. Iulius Capitoli­nus sayth, that Anthonius Caracalla, being in loue with a faire Lady of Persia, and seing that he could not enioy her nor obtaine his desire, promised to ma­rie her according to the lawe of Achaia: and truly she shewed her selfe more wise in her aunswere, thē he did in his demaund, telling him that she would not, nor might not marye, for because she had promised her selfe to the god­desse Vesta, and that she had rather be a seruaunte of the gods, then a mis­tresse of men. The Parthes had a law contrary to them, and likewise those of Thrace, the which so lytle esteamed women, that their husbandes vsed them none otherwise then lyke seruauntes.

And in this case men had so great lybertie, or to say better, lightnes: that after a woman had borne and brought forth twelue children, the children re­mayned in the house, and the husbandes sold their wiues to them that wold giue most, or els they chaunged them for others that were more yong.

And the children agreed to the selling of their owne mother, to thintent that their father might refresh himselfe with another that was more yong: and the old and baren woman, should eyther be buried quicke, or els serue as a slaue. Dionisius Halicarnaseus sayth, that the Lides had a law, and the Nu­midians in lyke maner, that the woman should commaund thinges without the house, and the man should prouide for those that were within. But ac­cording to my poore iudgement, I cannot tell how this law was kept, nor how they could fulfil it, for by reason the wife should not go out of the house but very lytel, and therfore me thinketh that they ought not to commaund any thing abroade, nor the husband should enter into another mans house, for to commaund there. Ligurgus in the lawes that he gaue to the Lacedemo­nians sayth, that the husbands should prouyde abrode, see al thinges necessa­rie for the house, and that the wiues should keape and dipose them within: so that this good philosopher deuided the trauaile betwene the man and the woman, but yet notwithstanding he reserued the rule and aucthority to the man For to say the truth, it is a monsterous thing that the wife shoulde commaund the husband in his house. Vnder our Christian relygion ther is neyther deuine, nor humaine lawes, but wil preferre man aboue all other thinges: and though some philosophers would dispute to the contrary, & that manye men would haue folowed theym, yet me thinketh that a man should not prayse nor commende them for their opinyons. For there can be nothyng more vaine nor lyght, then by mans lawe to giue that aucthority to woman, which by nature is denyed her.

We se by experience that women of nature are al weake, fraile, feareful, and tender: and finally in matters of weight not very wise. Then if mat­ters of gouernment requyre not only science & experience, but also strengthe & courage to enterprise doubtfull things, wisedome for to know them, force to execute them, dyligence for to folow them, pacyence to suffer them, mea­nes to endure theym, and aboue all great strengthe and hope to compasse them: why then wyl they take frome man the gouernemente, in whom all these thynges abounde, and giue it to the woman, in whome all these these thyngea do wante? The ende whye I speake these thynges before, is to requyre, to counsell, to admonishe, and to perswade Princesses, and [Page] great Ladyes, that they thinke it spoken (if they wilbe happie in mariage) to thend they should be obedient to their husbandes: for speaking the truth, in that house where the wife commaundeth the husband, we may cal her a masculyne woman, and him a feminine man. Many women are deceyued, in thinking that in commaunding their husbands they lyue more honorably and be better esteamed: but truly it is not so, for all those that see, and per­ceiue it, accompteth the woman for vaine, and the men in lyke maner for folyshe. I know, and can tel right wel, that there are some husbandes so ex­cessiue in spending, and so wanton in liuing, that it were not only good that their wiues should rule them, but also chastice theym, but yet in the end I saye, that notwithstandynge all this is better and more tollerable that all the goodes be lost, then betwene them any malyce, hate or dissencion should [...]yse. If a womans chyldren dye, she may bring forth others, if she loose her goods, she may get them againe, if her seruauntes goeth from her, she may find others, if she se her self sad, God may comfort her, if she be sicke, she may be healed, but if she be at debate with her husband, I cannot tell what she shal do: for the wife that forsaketh the frendship of her husband, gyueth to all men occasion to speake of her follye. Sith women naturally are all ge­louse, and that of gelousye procedeth suspition, I counsel them, if they will not that their husbandes commit a fault, that they do not anger nor chafe them: for if in gage she haue his hart, no other woman shal haue his body, because from that which he would not absteyne for consience, he will re­fraine for shame. Oft times y^e husbands come home chafed, troubled, wrath­full, angry, and vexed: and then women ought to take hede that they ouer­thwart them not, for if they do it cannot be otherwise, but that they shall haue eyther euil wordes with his tongue, or els suffer sore blowes with his fistes. Truly it is not mete, neyther in any case profitable, that Princesses & great dames should ouerthwarte their husbandes with froward wordes, nor that they should vse to striue against them, but rather that the wife in all cases should be obedient, and louyng to her husbande: for it may happen and dayly it doth chaunce, that they begin to argew in iest, and afterward they end in earnest. The woman which is sage, wise, and vertuous, ought to wey with her selfe, that eyther her husband hath occasion so to taunt her, or els peraduenture he doth it of a wil. I say that in this case if he haue oc­casion, she ought to suffer and endure him: if he doth it of will, she ought to dissemble with him. For otherwise, it myght so take her in the hed, that she would burden him with many euyll wordes: so that he beginnyng then the debate should remayne excused, and she being without fault at the begin­ning, might in the end be condempned.

Ther is nothing wherin a woman sheweth her wisedom more, then to en­dure a rashe husbād. A woman in nothing sheweth her sage [...]es more, then to dissemble with a foolysh husband. Her honesty in nothing can be shewed more, then in suffering a wanton husband. She can shew her worthines in nothyng so much, as in bearing with an vnworthy husband. I meane, thoughe she vnderstode that her husband hath lytle, that he knoweth lytle, and that he were worth lytle: yet she should make men beleue that he hath much, that he knoweth enough, and can do much. For al the honour which [Page 95] she shal giue so to her husband, shal wholy againe redounde on her selfe. It is an euyl thinge (me thinketh) that women should be so bold to speake against their husbandes: for they can not say euyl of them, but that they must wit­nesse dishonour of them selues. For if her husband be a dronkard, they will say that she is a dronkardes wife, and if he be a foole, that she is the wife of a foole, and what more: when the husband shal come to amende, and to mo­derate himselfe, the woman in the end shalbe blamed. For if she burden him with euill wordes, he acquyteth her with sharpe stripes. But if she toucheth his honour, it may chaunce he taketh away her lyfe. If perhappes the hus­band should commaund the wife any vniust thing, I would be of opinion that she should obey him, but not resist him: and after that his raging furye were past, & his choler qualyfied, then she might say vnto him, that he was very rashe to commaund, and she verye wise to obey. For if she be quicke of tongue, to aunswere to euery word that he shal speake, without doubt they wil not lyue one day in concord. Reading therfore that which I haue redde, hearing that whych I haue heard, and hauing sene also that I haue sene, I would counsel women that they should not presume to commaunde theyr husbands: and I would admonyshe husbandes that they would not suffer their wiues to rule them. For in doing the contrary, it is none otherwise, thē to eate with the feete and trauaile with the handes, to go with the fingers, and to feede them selues with theyr tooes. My mind is not here to speake a­gainst the woman, nor against the Princesses and great Ladyes, which of their patrimonye and herytage possesse many Townes, and Cyties: for to such I wyl not take away the seruices, which are due vnto theym by theyr subiectes, but I do perswade theym to the obedyence which they ought to haue to their husbandes. It is no merueyle thoughe that women of meane estate haue some tymes quarrelled wyth theyr husbandes: for they haue smal riches to lose, and lesse honour to aduenture, then the Princesses and great Dames haue, the whych synce they do aduenture to commaund ma­ny, why wil they not humble themselues to obey one? speakyng with due reuerence, It is for aboundaunce of follye, and want of wisedom, that a wo­man shold haue presumption to gouerne a whole Realme, and that she hath not grace to obey one husband. Seneca in a Tragedye saith, that in the time of the warre of Mithridates, it chaunced in Rome that the Consulles sent to the old knightes, ad commaunded that they should al be in a redines to go with Silla the Consull into the warres. And it happened that when they came into ones house in Rome to publishe the edicte, to warne him to be redye they found not the husband but the wife, who made answere and sayd: that her husband ought not nor could not go to the warres, and though he would he shoulde not, neither would she giue him lycence. For he was an olde and auncyente knyght, and therefore he oughte to be exempted frome the warres.

Wyth this aunswere, those that herd it were greatly abashed, & the whole senate no lesse offended: wherfore they commaunded that y^e husband shold be banyshed Rome, and the wife to be caried to the pryson Mamortine, not for that he excused himself for going to the warres: but because she comaun­ded her husband, and bycause he suffered himselfe to be commaunded of her. [Page] The Senate dyd this to that end, that from that time forwardes no wo­man should presume or contend with her husband: and that no husbande should giue his wife any occasion to be so bold with him.

¶That women, and especially Princesses and great Ladies shoulde be ve­ry circumspect in going abrode out of their houses, and that through the re­sorte of theym that commeth to their houses, they bee not euyll spoken of. Chap. vii.

AMonge al the councelles that may or ought to be giuen to Princesses and great Ladyes, this is the firste: that they do what they can to haue rest in their houses, and that they go not as strayes to the man­sions of other men. For if such Ladies are good, they get much reputacion: and if perchaunce they be euyl, they take from men all occasion. Whether the husband be present or absent, it is a most necessary and honest thing that the wife be for the most part in the house: For by this meanes the household shalbe wel gouerned, and from the hart of the husband shalbe withdrawen al kind of suspitions. Sithens the office of the husband is to gather goodes and riches, and the office of a wi [...]e to kepe and preserue them: the houre that she goeth out of the house, she ought to thinke that her maydens will stray abrode, the children wil ronne out to play, the varlettes and seruaunts wil be out of order, the neighbours wil take occasions to speake euill, and that which is worst of al: some will steale the goodes out of the house, and the others wil speake euyl of the renowne of the wife. Oh, god giueth a good­ly gift & grace to that man which hath such and so good a wife, that of her owne nature loueth to kepe her selfe within the house. And truly I say that such one doth excuse many griefes, & saueth much money. For she spendeth not the goodes in apparel, nor giueth occasion to men to iudge euil of her personne. The greatest debate that is betwene man and wife, is for that he desireth to get and kepe his goodes to bringe vp his chyldren, and to main­taine his family: and on the other part that she desireth to spend all vppon apparell. For women in this case are so curious in louinge of themselues, that they would absteine from meates that should mainteyne their life, on­lye to bye a new gowne to set out their pride. Women naturally do loue to keape, and wil not spend any thinge, except it be in apparell: For euery houre (that is in the day and the night) they desire to haue a new gowne to chaunge. My entencyon is not to speake of apparell only, but to per­swade Princesses and great Ladyes, that they would kepe themselues in their houses: and in so doing, they should excuse these superfluous wastes & expenses. For her neighbour seing her better apparelled then she is, loketh vpon her husband as she were a Lyon. It chaunceth oftentymes (I would to god I had no cause to speake it) that if by chaunce there commeth anye great or solempne feast or mariage, she wil neuer loke louyngly on his face, before he hath geuen her a new gowne to her backe: and when the poore gentleman hath no money to paye, of necessity he must runne in credit. And when the vanytie of the woman is past, then the time of payment dra­weth nere and they come to arest all his goodes: so that they haue cause to lament one hole yeare, for that whych they haue spent in one houre.

[Page 96]Women seldome contende for that one is fairer, more nobler of lynage, bet­ter maried, or more vertuous then an other: but onely for that an other go­eth better apparailed then she. For touching apparell, there is no woman cā endure that an other meaner woman shoulde make comparison with her, nor that in like maner her equal should excell her. Lycurgus in the lawes that he gaue to the Lacedemonians, commaunded that their wiues should not goe out of their houses, but at dyuers solempne feastes in the yere. For he sayde, that the women ought to be makinge their prayers in the Temples to the gods, or els in their houses bringing vp their children. For it is not honest, nor commendable, that the wife shold passe her time abroade, trotting from strete to strete as common women. I say that the Princesses and great La­dies are much more bound to kepe them selues at home in their houses, then other women of meaner degre: & without a cause I speake it not, for therby they shal get them more reputacion. For ther is no vertue wherby the wo­man winneth more reputacion in the common wealth, then alwayes to be sene resident in her house. I say also that a wife ought the most part of her time to keape her house, bycause she hath lesse occasion then other haue to go abroade. For if the poore wife (the Plebian) go out of her house, she goeth for no other cause but for to seke meate: but if the riche and noble woman goeth out of her house, it is for nothing but to take her pleasure. Let not princesses maruel, nor let not great ladies wonder, if they dispose their feete to trotte, & occupye their eyes to behold, though their ennemyes and neighbours with cankered hartes doth iudge them, and with euil tongues defame them: for the fond dedes that women do, maketh men to be rash of iudgement. I like it wel that the husbands should loue their wiues, that they should comfort them, and make much of them, and that they should put their trust in them: but I do discommend that the women should go gadding abroad in visita­cion, from house to house, & that their husbands dare not gaine say them. For admyt that they be good in their personnes: yet in this doing they giue oc­casion for men to esteme them vaine and light. Seneca saieth in an epistel, that the great Romaine Cato the censor ordeyned, y^t no woman shold go out of her house being alone, & if perhappes it were in the night, she should not go alone without company, & that the company shold not be such as she would chose, but such as her husband or parent would assigne: so that with the same coū ­tenaunce we behold now a comen woman, with the selfe same lookes then we beheld her y^t went oft out of her house, Noble ladies (which loue their ho­nour) ought greatly to consider & way the great incōueniences that may en­sue by often gadding abroad: for they spend much to apparel them, they lose much time in trimming them, they kepe gentlewomen to wait vpon them, they wil striue with their husbands to goe, & whiles she is out of the dores, the house shal be euil kept, and al the enemyes & frendes therby haue matter wherupon to talke: finally I say, that the woman y^t goeth out of her house, doth not wey the losse of her honour so much, as she doth the pleasure she ta­keth abroad. Presuming (as I presume) to write with grauitie, I say, that I am ashamed to speake it, yet for al that I wil not refraine to write of the walkes of these dames y^t visite & desire to be visited: amongest whom ther is moued oftentimes such vaine cōmunication, y^t it causeth their husbands to [Page] become ennemyes: and on the other parte they remember more the gossip­pinges that they haue to go, then their sinnes which they ought to lament.

¶Of the commodities and discommodities which folowe Princesses and great Ladyes that go abroade to vysite or abyde in the house Cap. viii.

LUcretia by the consent of all, was counted the cheafest of all other Ma­trones of Rome, and not for that that she was more faire, more wise, of greater parentage, or more noble. But because she did withdrawe her selfe from company, and abode solitary. For she was such a one, that in the heroical vertues there could be nothing more desired: nor in womens weakenes there was nothinge in her to be amended. The historye of the chast Lucretia, is euident in Titus Liuius, that when the husbandes of diuers Romaines came home from the warres to their houses, they founde their wiues in such sort, that some were gasing out of the windowes, others de­vising vainely at their doores, others in the field wandering, others in their gardeynes banqueting, others in the market byeng, and others in the mid­des of the streates, here and there gaddyng: but the famous Lucretia was found in her house alone, weuing in silke, so that she flyeng company for that she would not be sene, made her selfe in her honour and renowne better to be knowen. I wil giue an other counsell to Princesses and great Ladyes, the which I am willyng to giue, so I wishe they would be as desyrous to receiue, that is to wete: if they will be estemed and counted for honest wo­men, that they must kepe them selues from euil company. For thoughe the stinking carreine doth no harme, because we eate it not: yet the vnsauorye sent therof annoyeth vs by smelling. The honour of women is so delicate a thing, that if we giue them lycence to go abrode to vysite women: we must also giue them leue to be visited of men. For that one Dame should visite an other, it semeth much charitie: but that men should vysite women, I cannot but thinke it much dishonestye. In the presence of their husbandes and nere kynnesfolkes, they may be visited and talked withall, and this is to be vn­derstode, of approued and honest personnes: not withstanding I say if the husband be not at home, I would it shold be compted sacrilege, if any man passe the thresshold of the doore to visite the wife. Plutarche saith in the booke of the prayses of women, that the wiues of the Numydians, when their hus­bandes were gone out of their houses, kept their gates shut, & locked them selues in their houses: and they had a lawe, that what so euer he were that knocked at the dore beyng shutte, without calling, he should haue his righte hand cutte of. Cicero in the booke of his lawes saieth, that amongest the Ro­maines ther was an auncient law, and much vsed: that if perchaunce any woman did owe any monye to any man, and that the husbande beinge the detter were out of his house, the creditour should not aske his wife the debt, bycause that vnder the couller of recouering the goodes, he should not disho­nour her in her fame. I would say therefore, that if the creditour was not permitted in Rome to recouer his good? for that the wife was not of her husbande accompanyed: muche lesse they woulde giue lycence to visite a woman alone. For it were more reason that the creditour shoulde enter for to recouer his goodes: then thou shouldest enter onlye for thy pastime. The deuine Plato in the bookes of the common wealth sayth, and by pro­found [Page 97] reasons perswadeth the wiues of Grece, that they haue no secret fren­des, but that euery one kepe this saying in memory for a principal: that the woman ought not to haue any other frend but her husband. For women oughte not to haue lycence to make frendes: nor condicions to make enne­myes. Princesses and greate Dames oughte to consider, that euery one of them geueth their bodies, their goodes, and their liberty to their husbands. Then since it is so I say, that with the lybertie, she ought also to geue him her will. For it lytel auaileth the man and the wife that their goodes be common, if their willes be priuate: For to the end that god be serued, and the people edified, both ought in one house to abide, at one table togethers to eate, in one bedde to slepe, and besides this, they both ought one thinge to loue. For if the man and the wife in loue do differ, in their lyues they shal ne­uer be quiete. I admonysh, desire, and counsel all women, if they wil be wel maried, that they thinke it good that their husband wil, that they prayse al that he prayseth, that they proue al that he proueth, that they content them selues with that wherwith their husbandes are contented, & aboue al, that they loue no more then their husbandes shal loue: for otherwise it might be that the wife should set her eyes vpon one, and the husband ingage his hart to an other. Plutarche in the booke of his pollytikes sayth, that a woman af­ter she is maried, hath nothing propre: for the day that she contracteth ma­mariage, she maketh her husband the only Lord of her goodes, her libertie, and of her personne. So that if the wife willeth any other thing, then that which the husband willeth, if she would loue any other thing then that that her husband loueth, we wil not cal her a true louer, but an open thefe: for theaues do not so much harme to robbe the husband of his moneye, as the wife doth in withdrawing from him her hart. If the woman wil lyue in peace with her husband, she ought to marke wherunto he is enclyned, for so much as if he be mery, she ought to reioyce, and if he be sadde, she must tem­per her selfe, if he be couetous, she should kepe, if he be prodigall, she shoulde spend, if he be vnpacient, she should dyssemble, and if he be suspected, she must beware. For the woman which is wise and sage, if she can not as she would, she ought to wyl what she may. Wel, whether the husband be euil inclined, or in his condicions euyl manered, I sweare, that he cannot suffer that his wife shold haue any other louers: For though the man be of a meane stocke, he had rather alwayes that his wife should loue him alone, then the best of the nobilitie in the towne, One thing I cannot dissemble, bycause I se that god is therwith offended. Which is, that many Ladyes make their excuses through sicknes, because they would not past once in the weke come to here seruyce and yet we se them busye dayly trotting about to vysite their fren­des, and the worst of al is, that in the morning for cold they wil not ryse to go to the churches, and yet afterwardes in the heate of the daye they go a gaddyng from house to house, wheras they are often tymes vntyl night.

I would that the Ladyes would consider with theym selues, before they should go out of their houses on visitacion, to what end they go abroad: and if perchaunce they go abroad to be loked on, let them know for a sewerty, that ther be few that wil prayse their beautye, but ther be manye that will dyscommend their gaddyng. And wherfore do these Dames assembel to­gether, [Page] for some graue matters I warrant you, shal I tel you, it is eyther to banquet with some dainty dishes, to talke of their petigres, to deuyse of their husbands, to see who hath the best gowne, to note who is euil attired, to flatter the faire, to laugh to scorne the foule, to mourmure of their neigh­bours, and that which is worst of al, that they them selues which speake e­uyll of them that are absent, do gnaw the one the other with enuye. Sel­dome tymes it chaunceth that the Dames chide not with their husbands, after that in this sort they haue bene together: for somuche as the one no­teth the euil apparel, the other babblyng, they note the one to be a foole and the other to be simple, so that it semeth not that they are mete to vysite the one the other: but to loke, & accuse the one the other. It is a straung thing for the sage woman to thinke that she shold take pleasure abroad, since she hath her husband at home to whom she may talke: & hath her children to learne, her doughters to teach, her family to order, and her goodes to gouerne: she hath her house to kepe, and her parentes whom she ought to please: then synce she hath within her house such pastime, why do they accept company of straunge men? That maryed women should haue priuate frendes, and loue to be vysited: it foloweth oftentimes that god is offended, the husband iniuried, and the people slaundered: & the woman that is maried, taketh ly­tle profite & it hindereth the mariage of her that is to mary. For in such a case thoughe some desire her for her riches: yet mo wyl forsake her for her euyl fame.

¶That women great with child, inspecially the Princesses & great Ladyes ought to be very circumspect, for the daunger of the creatures wherein is shewed many misfortunes happened to women with child in the old tyme for suffering them to haue their willes. Cap. ix.

ONe of the most necessary things for him that taketh in hand any great iorney, ouer any daūgerous countries, is at y^t the beginnyng he ought to learne the way which he ought to go: for it is a thing no lesse trou­blesome then perillous, that when he should come to rest, of necessity he shold be enforced to trauel. No man can denay but that mans lyfe is a long and tedious iorney, the which beginneth at our birth, & endeth at our death: for in the end to haue a long or short life is none other, but to come soner or la­ter to the graue. The chiefest folly of al (in mine opinion) is this, that some in their owne opinions thinke they haue counsel enough for others, and to all others it semeth that they want for them selues. For of right he may be cal­led a foole, that condemneth all other as fooles: and auaunceth himselfe to be wise. Euery man ought to let his neighbour lyue in peace, and though he do esteame himselfe to be wise, yet he oughte not to thinke his neighbour a foole: for ther is none so wyse, but that he may occupie it all. For we neuer saw any man so wise of himselfe, but that he neaded the counsel of an other. And if this want be in those that be very old, truly it is much more in them that be yong: whose fleshe is not dry, but grene, the bloud not cold, but hote, no deadly heate, but very liuely, the bestial mocions not mortifyed, but quickned, and hereof ensueth, that yong men loue their owne aduyce and opyni­on, and dyspise the counsaile of all other.

When the trees are tender, they bynde theym togethers bycause they [Page 98] grow right, they brydel the horse when as yet they are but coltes, to y^e end they may be easy hereafter to the brydel. They take the haukes in the neast, to make them more famyliar: & when the beastes are litle, they take them to teach them. I meane, that a man ought to instruct his children, to the end they may know to liue wel here after. I admonish, and tel the mothers that haue doughters, that ther is no remedy to reforme the euil inclinacion of our children, but to teach them, and to bring them vp wel in their youth: for ther is no wound but is daungerous, if in tyme the playster be not layd therun­to. Returnyng now to our purpose, synce that in al thyngs ther is order and measure, we wil declare presently how the male child ought to be taught: & first of al we wil treat, how a man ought to prouide when the infant is be­gotten, and when as yet it is alyue in the mothers wombe, to the entente Princesses and great Ladyes should lyue very circumspectlye, when they know they are conceyued with child. I should be excused to speake of this matter, since it is not my profession, and that as yet I was neuer maried, but by that I haue red of some, and by that I haue hard of others, I will and dare be so bold to say one word. For the sage oft times geueth a better accompt, of that he hath red: then the simple doth of that he hath proued.

Thys thing seameth to be true, betwene the phisicion and the pacient: for wher the pacient suffereth the euyl, he oft tymes demaundeth the physicion what his sicknes is, & wher it holdeth him, and what it is called, and what remedy ther is for his disease: so the phisicion knoweth more by his scyence, then the pacient by hys exsperience, A man ought not to denay, that the wo­men and in especially great ladyes know not by experience, how they are altered when they are quycke, and the great paynes they suffer when they are deliuered: we could not denay but that ther is great daunger in the one, & greate peril in the other, but they shal not knowe from whence al commeth and from whence al procedeth, and what remedy is necessary. For there are many which complayneth of robberyes, but they know not what the thea­ues are that haue robbed them, First according to my iudgement and opiny­on, that which the woman quicke with childe ought to do, is that they go softly & quietly, and that they eschue running, eyther in commyng or goyng: for though she lytel esteme the helth of her person, yet she ought greatly to regard the lyfe of the creature. The more precious the licour is, and the more weaker the vessell is which conteyneth it: so much the more they ought to feare the daunger, least the licoure shed, and the vessel breake. I meane, that the complection of women (being with child) is very delicate, and that the soule of the creature is precious, & therfore it ought with great diligence to be preserued: for al the treasure of the Indes is not equal in valewe, to that which the woman beareth in her bowelles. Whan a man plāteth a vineyard forthwith he maketh a ditch, or some fence about it, to the end that beastes shold not croppe it while it is yong: nor that trauailers shold gather the gra­pes when they are ripe. And if the labourer doth this thing for to get a litel wine only, the which for the soule and body is not alwayes profitable: how much more circumspection ought the woman to haue to preserue her chyld, since she shall render an accompte to the creator of her creature, vnto the church of a christyan, and vnto her husband of a child. In my opinyon, wher [Page] the accompt at the houre of death is so streight, it is requisite that in y^e time of her life she be circumspect: for god knoweth euery thinge so well in oure lyfe, that ther is none that can begile hym in rendering hys accompt at his death. Ther is no wighte can suffer, nor hart dyssemble, to see a man haue hys desire that is to say, to haue his wife great with child, and redy to bring forth good fruite, & afterward to se the woful mother, through some sodeine accident peryshe, & the innocent babe not to be borne. When the woman is healthful, & bigge with child, she is worthy of great reproch, if eyther by run­nyng, leaping, or dauncing, any mischaunce hap vnto her. And truly the hus­band hath great cause to lament this case: for without doubt the gardiner fealeth great grefe in his hart, when in the prime time the tre is loden with blosomes, and yet by reason of some sharpe and bitter froste it neuer beareth fruit. It is not only euyl that women should runne & leape when they are bigge, & great with chyld, but it is also dishonest, and specially for great La­dies: for alwayes women that be common dauncers, are esteamed as light housewiues. The wiues in general, princesses and great ladies in particuler, ought to go temperately, & to be modest in their mouinges: for the modeste gate argueth discretnes in the person. Al women naturally desire to be ho­noured, & reuerenced: & touching that I let them know, that ther is nothing which in a common wealth is more honor for a woman, then to be wise & ware in speaking, moderate & quyet in going. For it is vnpossible but that y^e woman which is lyght in her going and malycious in her talking, should be dispised and abhorred. In the yere of the foundacion of Rome .466. the ro­maines sente Curius Dentatus to make warre agaynst king Pirrus, who kept y^e city of Tharent, & did much harme to the people in Rome: for the Romaines had a great corage to conquere straunge realmes, & therfore they could haue no pacience to suffer any straunger to inuade theirs. This Curius Dentatus was he which in the end ouercame king Pirrus, & was the fyrst that brought the Oliphantes to Rome in his tryumphe, wherfore the fiercenes of those beasts astonyed the Romaine people much: for they weyed lytel the sight of the kyngs loden with irons, but to se the Oliphants (as they did) they won­dered much. Curius Dentatus had one only sister the which he intierly loued.

They wer seuen children, two of the which dyed in the warres, & other thre by pestilence: so that ther were none left him, but that sister, wherfore he lo­ued her with al his hart. For the death of vnthriftye children, is but as a watch for childrē vnprouided of fauoures. This sister of Curius Dentatus was maried to a Romaine consul, & was conceiued & gone .7 moneths with child: and the day that her brother triumphed (for ioy of her brothers honor) she leaped & daunced so much, that in the same place she was deliuered, & so vnluc­kely, that the mother toke her death, & the chyld neuer lyued, wherupon, the feast of the triumphe ceased, and the father of the infant for sorow lost hys speach. For the hart which sodainly feleth grefe, incontinently loseth vnder­standing. Tibullus the Grecian, in the third booke De casibus triumphi. decla­reth the hystorie in good stile, how, and in what sorte it chaunced. Nyne yeares after that the kings of Rome weare bannyshed from the rape that Tarquine dyd to the chast Lucretia, the Romaine created a dignytie whiche they called DICTATVRA, and the Dictatoure that hadde this office, [Page 99] was aboue al other lord & chiefe: for the Romaines perceiued that the com­mon wealth could not be gouerned, but by one head alone. And because the Dictatour had so great aucthority, as the Emperour hath at this present, & to thend they should not become tirauntes: they prouided that the office of the Dictatoursship should last no longer then vi. moneths in the yeare, the which past and expired they chose another. Truly it was a good order that that office dured but vi. moneths. For oft tymes princes thinkinge to haue perpetual aucthority, become necligent in vsing iustice. The first dictatour in Rome was Largius Mamillus, who was sent against the Volces, the which at that time were the greatest enemies to the Romaines: for Rome was founded in such a signe, that alwayes it was beloued of fewe, and abhorred of many. As Titus Liuius saith, this Largius Mamillus vanquished the Volces, & tri­umphed ouer theym, & in the end of the warre distroyed their mighty citye called Curiola, and also distroyed and ouerthrewe many places and fortresses in that prouince: for the cruel hartes do not only distroy the personnes, but also take vengeaunce of the stones. The hurtes which Largius Mamillus did in the country of the Volces were maruelous, and the men which he slewe were many, and the treasories he robbed were infinite, and the captiues which he had in his triumphe were a great nomber, amongest whom in­especial he brought captiue a noble mans doughter, a beautiful gentlewo­man, the which he kept in his house for the recreacion of his person: for the aunciente Romaines gaue to the people al the treasours to maintayne the warre, & they toke to them selues al the vycious things to kepe in their hou­ses. The case was, y^t this damsel being with child, Largius Mamillus, brought her to solace herselfe in his orchard, wher were sondry yonge fruites, and as then not ripe to eate, wherof with so great affection she did eate, that forth­with she was delyuered in the same place of a creature: so that on the one part she was delyuered: and on the other part the chylde died.

This thinge chaunsed in the gardeins of Vulcan, two dayes after the tri­umphe of Largius Mamillus, a ruful and lamentable case to declare, forasmuch as both the child that was borne, the mother that was delyuered, and al­so the father that begat it, the selfe same day dyed, and were buried all in one graue: and this thing was not wythout great waylyng, & lamenting throughout al Rome. For if with teares their lyues myght haue bene resto­red: wythout doubt none of them should haue ben buried. The first sonne of Rome which rebelled against rome was Tarquin the proud. The second that wythstode Rome (being as yet in Lucania) was Quintus Marcius. The third y^t went agaynst Rome was the cruel Silla. The domages which these thre, did to their mother Rome, were such and so great that the thre seueral warres of Affricke were nothing to be compared, to those thre euil children: for those enemyes could scarcely se the walles of Rome, but these vnnatural chyldrē had almost not left one stone vpon another. A man ought not greatly to esteme those buildings that these tirauntes threw to the ground, nor the buildings that they distroyed, neither the men y^t they slew, nor the wo­men y^t they forced, ne yet the orphanes which they made: but aboue al things we ought to lament for that, that they brought into Rome. For the comon wealth is not distroyed for lacke of riches, & sumpteous buildings: but be­cause [Page] vices abound, & vertuous want. Of these thre Romaynes, he whose name was Quintus Marcius, had ben consul thrise, once Dictatour, & foure ti­mes Censor, and in the end he was with much shame banished from Rome, wherwith to reueng this iniury he came with a great power & army against Rome: for the proud hart, wounded with iniury, is neuer quiet in his life time vntyl he se his enemyes destroyed, or that on them he hath taken vengeance. Quintus Marcius being very nigh to the gates of Rome, was most instantlye requyred that he wold not distroy his mother Rome: but he toke no regard, nor would condiscend to any request, vntil such time that his mother issewed with a niece of his, whom he loued entierly. At whose intercession & teares he left his anger, & raised his siege from Rome: for many are ouercome so­ner wyth teares, then wyth importunate & reasonable requestes. The ladies of Rome vsed much to haue their heares long and yellowe, and to weare their wastes high: and streight. And as the Niece of Quintus Marcius was great & bigge with child, the day that the peace was made betwene Quintus Marcius, & Rome, lacinge her selfe to hard in her attire, to seme more proper & comely, she long before her time was delyuered of a creature: & the case was so woful & vnfortunate, that the creature deliuered dyed: the mother lost her lyfe, and the mother losyng her lyfe, sodainlye her graundmother fel dead to the ground, through which occasion al the ioy and mirth was turned into sorow & sadnes. For it is commenly sene, when the world is in the greatest ioy, then fortune sodainly turneth it into sorow. The aucthors hereof are Tibulus and Porphirius both Grecians.

¶The aucthour foloweth and declareth other inconueniences and vnluckye chaunces which haue happened to women with child. Chap. x.

THe warres of Tarent being ended, immedyatly begonne the warres of Carthage, of whych so long & tedious warres, the possession of the Isles of Maiorica, & Minorica were occasion, forsomuch as the one would take it, and the other defend it. This warre endured wel nyghe the space of 40. yeres, for oft tymes the wastes and domages which are done in the warres are greater: then the profite, for which they contend. The first captayne in this warre of the Romaines was Gaius Duellus, and the fyrst of the Carthagi­niens was Hammon, the whych wyth their shyppes fought on the sea of Sicili, the whych was very cruel: for there they feared both the fury of the sea, and also the cruelty of the pike, the which two things put mans life in great daū ­ger. Of thys cruel battaile the Romaine captaine remayned victorious, for­asmuch as he drowned 14 shippes, and toke other 30. he slew. 3. thousande men, and brought 3. thousand Carthaginiens prysoners: and thys was the first victory that y^e Romaynes had by sea. And that that the Romaynes most re­ioysed at was, that by sea also they remained conquerers. The captaine Gaius Duellus departyng from Sicili came to Rome, wher he had a sister no lesse ver­tuous, then rych and beautifull, in whose house he lodged, where he made a costly supper to al the senatours of Rome, & to al the captaines whiche came wyth hym from the warres: for the vicious men knew not wherin to shew their loue to their frendes, but by inuiting them to costly bankettes. The sister of the captaine Gaius Duellus, for ioye of his comming, and for the pleasure of the banquet & feast which was made in her house, did eate more then she was accustomed, & also more then it behoued one in her case, so that [Page 100] in the presence of al she began to annoy the bidden gestes: for she not onely vomited out the meate of her stomake, but also the bloud of her vaines, and therwithal most vnluckely brought forth her fruite, which she had in her in­trailes, wherwith immediatly after the soule departed from the body, and so died. Truly this case was no lesse lamentable, then the others, for so much as Gaius lost his sister, the husband lost his wife & his child, & the wife & the child lost their liues: and for that that Rome lost so noble and excellent a Roman, & aboue al for that it so chaunced in such a time of so great ioy and pleasure. For there can come no vnluckier newes, then in the time of much mirth to heare tel of any great mischaunce. Of this matter mention is made in Blun­dus in the booke of the declination of the Empire. The second warre of Afrike which was betwene Rome and Carthage, was the. 540. yeres after the foū ­dation of Rome, wherin were captaines Paulus Emilius, and Publius Varro: the which two consulles fought the great and famous battaile of Cannas in the prouince of Apulia, I say famous, because Rome neuer lost such nobilitie and Roman youth, as she lost in that day. Of these two coūsulles, Paulus Emilius in the battaile was slaine, and Publius Varro ouercome, and the couragious Hannibal remained conquerour of the field, wherin died .xxx. senatours, and 300. officers of the senate, and aboue .xl. thousand fotemen, & thre thousand horsemen, finally the end of al the Romain people had bene that day, if Hanni­bal had had the wit to haue folowed so noble a victory, as he had the corage to giue so cruel a battaile. A litle before that Publius Varro departed to goe to the warres, he was maried to a faire & young Romain called Sophia, & with in seuen monethes she was quicke: & as newes was brought her that Paulus Emilius was dead, & her husband ouercome, she died sodenly, the creature re­maining aliue in her body. This case aboue al was very pitiful, in that that after he him selfe was vanquished, & that he had sene his compaignion the consul Emilius slaine, with so great a numbre of the Romaine people, fortune would that with his owne eies he should beholde the intrailes of his wife cut to take out the child, & likewise to se the earth opened, to bury his wyfe. Titus Liuius saith, that Publius Varro remained so sorowful in his harte, to see him self ouercome of his enemies, & to see his wife so sodainly & so vnluckely strikē with death, that al the time that his life endured, he neither comed his beard, slept in bed, nor dined at the table: & hereat we ought not to marueile, for a man in his hart may so be wounded in one houre, that he shal neuer re­ioyce all the daies of his life. If we put no doubtes in Titus Liuius, the Ro­mains had long & tedious warres against the Samnites, which indured for the space of .lxiii. yeres continually, vntill suche time as the consull Ancus Rutillus (which was a vertuous man) did set a good appointment of peace betwene the Samnites & the Romains: for y^e noble & stout harts ought always by ver­tue to bring their enemies to peace. These warres therefore being so cruell, & obstinate Titus Venurius, & Spurius Posthumius (which were Romain captains) were ouercom by Pontius y^e valiant captain of y^e Samnites: who after y^e victory did a thing neuer sene nor hard of before. That is to wete, y^t al y^e Romain pri­soners whom he toke, he put about their necks a yoke, wherin were written these wordes. In spighte of Rome, the Romaines shalbe subiect to the yoke of the Sa­nites. Wherwith in dede the Romains were greatly iniuried, wherfore they sought stoutly to be reuēged of the Samnites: for the hartes that are haughty, [Page] and proud, cannot suffer that others haue their mindes lofty and high. The Romaines therfore created to be captaine of the warre, one named Lucius Papirius, who had cōmissiō to go against the Samnites. This Lucius was more fortunate in his doinges, then comly of his persone, for he was deformed of his face, notwithstanding he did so good seruice in the warre, & fortune fa­uoured him so wel, that he did not onely ouercome & vanquishe, but also de­stroied them: and though the iniury which the Samnites did to the Romains was great, yet truly the iniury which the Romains did to the Samnites was much greater. For fortune is so variable, that those which yesterday we saw in most prosperitie, to day we see in greatest aduersitie. This Lucius Papirius therfore did not only vanquishe the Samnites, kept them prisoners, and made yokes for their neckes: but also bounde them with cordes together, in suche sorte, that they made them plough the grounde, drawing twoo and twoo a plough. And yet not herewith contented, but with gaddes they pricked and tormented them. If the Samnites had had pitie of the Romains being ouer­come, the Romaines likewise would haue taken compassion of them when they were conquerers. And therefore the prosperous haue as muche nede of good councel, as the miserable haue nede of remedy. For the man whiche is not mercifull in his prosperitie, ought not to meruaile though he finde no frendes in his necessitie. This Lucius Papirius had a doughter maried to a se­natour of Rome, who was called Torquatus, and she was called Ypolita. And about the time that she shold haue bene deliuered, she went foorth to receiue her father, the which she ought not to haue done: for the throng of the people in receiuing him being great, & she her selfe being great with childe, by a heuy chaunce, as she would haue passed in at a narrowe gate, she was so preste in the throng, that she chaunged her life for death, & her father turned his mirth & ioy, into sorow & sadnes. For he toke the death of his doughter very hea­uely, & so much the more because it was so sodeine. I say he tooke it heauily, since he was so stoute a man, & so sage withal, that al Rome thought muche that any such sodaine chaunce should haue dismaied so wise a man, that of his wisedome he could take no profite: but hereat let no man marueile, for there are many that hath hartes to shed the bloud of their enemies, & yet can not withhold the teares of their eies. Annius Seuerus in the third booke De in­felice fortuna saith, that the day that this woful mishap chaunced to Lucius Papirius, he lift vp his eies to the heauens, & weping said. O fortune, deceiuoure of all mortall men, thou madest me to conquere in warre, to thintent thou wouldest ouercome me in peace. My mynde was to declare vnto you all these auncient histories, to the end all may knowe, how tender and delicate women with childe are, and howe diligent their husbandes ought to be to preserue them: since there is nothing so tender to be kept, nor any glasse so ea­sy to be broken. For there is much glasse, that though it fall to the grounde, yet it doth not breake: but a woman with childe, only for treading her foote a wry, we see with daunger to be deliuered.

¶ That women great with childe, and especially princesses and great ladies, ought to be gently vsed of their husbandes. Cap. xi.

IF we vnderstand the chapter before, we shal finde that womē with child haue bene in great daungers, some through leaping, some by dauncing, o­ther [Page 101] by eatinge, others by banquetinge, others through gaddinge, other by straight lacing, & al this proceadeth through their owne follies, that seeketh to be destroyers of their own bodies. Truly herein princesses & great ladies are worthy of great rebuke, when through their owne follies they are not safely deliuered of their creatures. And I would gladly they toke example, not only of reasonable men, but also of brute beastes: for there is no beaste so brute in the wylde mountaines, but escheweth that which to his life & death wilbe hurtful. The Beares, y^e Lionesse, & the wolles, neuer issue our of their caues & dennes so long as they be bigge, & this they do to auoide the daun­ger of the hunters, because at that time they woulde not be coursed. Then since these thinges are done by brute beastes (whose yonglinges are always hurtful to men) to thintent y^t their gredy whealpes might safely be brought forth, to deuour our innocent cattel: how much more then ought the womā to be careful for her fruite, which is the increase of Christian congregation? If women brought not forth, and children were not borne, though there be earth, yet there should be none to people it: for god created al things to serue the creature, & created the creatures to serue their creator. Let women with child take example by the chessenuttes and walnuttes, howe & in what sorte they defende their fruite after that of their blosomes they are depriued: for the chessenut tree defendeth his fruite with a rough & hard huske, & the walnut kepeth her fruite with a thicke shale in like maner, so that the water can not wette them, nor the wynde shake them. Nowe since that the trees whiche haue but a vegetatiue lief, and the beastes a sensitiue lief, take suche hede to them selues when they feele them ready to bryng foorth their fruite: much more women with childe ought to take hede to them selues, since they haue reason and vnderstanding, least through their negligence the creature should perish. Let euery man iudge how litle he looseth, whē he looseth nuts and chessenuts: and for the contrary let euery man iudge what the churche looseth, when the woman with child do not bring forth their fruite, into the light of baptisme. For our mother the holy churche bewayleth not for that the vines are frosen: but for the soules whiche are lost. To the ende that the man may see the fruitfull blessing whiche he desireth, and that the woman with child may see her self wel deliuered: the husband ought to beware that he enforceth her not much to labour, and the woman likewise ought to be circumspect that she take not to muche idlenes. For in women with childe this is a general rule, that to much traueile causeth them before their time to deliuer: & to much idlenes putteth them in daunger. The man is cruell that wil haue his wife trauaile & take as muche paines when she is bigge, as he would haue her at an other time whē she is not with child: for y^e man which is clothed, can not runne so swift, as he that is naked. Aristotle in y^e sixt booke de Animalibus saith, when the Lionesse is bigge with whelpe, the Lyon doth not only hunt for her him self: but also both night & daye he wandreth conti­nually about to watche her. I meane, that princesses & great Ladies when they be with child, should be of their husbandes both tended & serued: for the man can not do the woman so great a pleasure before her lieng down, as she doth to him when she bringeth forth a sonne. Considering the daunger that the woman abideth in her deliuerance, & beholding the paines that y^e husbād [Page] taketh in her seruice: without cōparison that is greater which she suffereth, then that which he endureth. For when the womā deliuereth, she doth more then her power: and the husband though he serueth her well, doth lesse then his dutie. The gentle and louing husband ought not one moment to forsake his wife, specially when he seeth she is great: for in the law of a good husbād it is written, that he should set his eies to behold her, his handes to serue her, he should spende his goods to cherishe her, & should geue his harte to cōtent her. Let not men thinke it paines to serue their wiues when they are with childe: for their labour consisteth in their strengthe, but the trauell of their wiues is in their intrailes. And that whiche is moste pitifull is, that when the sorowfull women will discharge their burden on the earthe, they often times bryng them selues vnto the graue. The meane women of the Plebeians ought no lesse to be reproued, for that when they are with childe, they would be exempted from all busines of the house: the whiche neither they them selues ought to desire, nor yet their husbandes to suffer. For idlenesse is not only an occasion not to deserue heauen: but also it is a cause whereby womē ofte times haue ill successe in their trauaile. For considering bothe the deintie Ladie with childe, that hath her pleasure, and doth litle, and on the other side the poore mans wyfe whiche moderatly laboureth: you shall see that the great Ladies for all their pleasures abydeth more daunger, then the other doth with all her labour. The husbande ought to keape his wyfe from ta­kyng to muche paines, for so ought he to doe: and the wyfe lykewyse ought to flee to much pleasure, for it behoueth her. For the meane trauaile is no o­ther, but occasion of a safe deliuerie. The women with childe also ought to take hede to them selues, and in especially noble and great ladies, that they be not to gredy nor hasty in eating. For the woman being with childe ought to be sobre: and the woman whiche is a great eater, with great paines shall liue chaste. Women with childe ofte times doe disordre them selues in eating licorous meates, and vnder the colour of feedinge them selues and their in­fant, they take to excessiuely: which is not onely vnholsome for the childe, but also dishonour for their mothers. For truly by the great excesse of the mo­ther (being with child) commeth many diseases to the infant when it liueth. The husbandes also ought neither to displease nor greue their wiues, special­ly when thei see them great with child: for of truth ofte times she deliuereth with more daunger, by reason of the offences that mē do vnto them: then by the abondaunce of meates which they doe eate. Though the woman when she is with childe, in some thinges doth offend her husband, yet he like a wise man ought to forbeare her, hauing respect to the child wherwith she is great and not to the iniurie that she hath committed: for in thend, the mother can not be so great an offender, but that the childe is muche more innocent. For the profe of this, it neadeth not bookes to reade, but only our eies to see: how the brute beastes for the moste parte (when the females are bigge) doe not touche them, nor yet the females suffer thē to be touched. I meane, that the noble and high estates ought to absent them selues from their wiues car­nally, beyng great with child: and he that in this case shal shewe him selfe moste temperate, shall of all men be deamed most vertuous. I do not speake this to thend it should bind a man, or that it were an offence then to vse the [Page 102] company of his wyfe: but vnto men that are vertuous I geue it as a coun­sel. For some things ought to be done of necessitie, & others ought to be esche­wed for honestie. Diodorus Siculus saith, that in the realme of Mauritania there were so few men, & so many women, that euery man had fiue wiues, where there was a law amōgest them, that no man should mary vnder thre wiues: furthermore they had a wonderful & folishe custome, that when any husband died, one of these women should cast her selfe quick in to the graue & be bu­ried with him. And if that within a moneth she did it not, or that she died not, by iustice she was then openly put to death: saiyng that it is more hone­stie to be in company with her husband in the graue, then it is to be alone in her house. In the Isles of Baliares the cōtrary is sene, for there increase so ma­ny men, and so few women, that for one woman there was seuen men: and so they had a custome, specially amongest the poore, that one woman should be maried with fiue men. For the ryche men sent to seke for women in other straunge Realmes, wherfore then marchauntes came heuie loden with wo­men, as now they do with marchaundise to sell. Vpon which occasion there was a custome in those Isles, that (for as muche as there were so fewe wo­men) when any woman with chylde drewe nere the seuen monethes, they were seperated from their husbandes, and shut and locked vp in the Tem­ples, where they gaue them suche thinges as were necessary for them of the commen treasure. For the auncientes had their goodes in suche veneration, that they would not permitte any personne to eate that whiche he brought: but of that whiche vnto the goddes of the Temple was offered. At that tyme the Barbarous kepte their wyues locked in the churche, because the gods hauing them in their Temples, should be more mercifull vnto them in their deliuery, and also to cause them to auoyde the daungers at that tyme: and besydes that, because they tooke it for a great vilany, that the women during that tyme should remaine with their husbandes. The famous and renow­med philosopher Pulio, in the fift booke De moribus antiquorum said, that in the Realme of Paunonia (whiche nowe is Hongarie) the women that were great with childe were so highly estemed, that when any went out of her house, al those which met with her, were bounde to returne backe with her, & in such sorte as we at this present do reuerence the holy Comunion, so did these Bar­barous then the women with child. The women of Carthage being with child (whē Carthage was Carthage) had as great priuileges, as now our sanctuaries haue for y^e safegard of misdoers: for in times past, al such offēdours as could enter into the house wher a woman lay in child bed, should haue ben free frō correction of iustice. As Fronto saith, in his booke of the veneration of y^e gods, the Galloys Transalpins, did not only honour & reuerence y^e womē with child, but also with much care & diligence watched her deliuery: for it litle auaileth the shippe to haue passed safe the daungerous seas, if at the shore she be cast away. The case was in this sort, that al the auncient gentils honoured some gods in their temples, & kept other in their houses, the which were called La­res, & Penates: & when any woman began to labour, eche neighbour brought his familiar god vnto her to present her with all, because they thought that the more gods there were, of so much more power they were to kepe her frō perils. Speaking like a christian, truly those gods were of small value, since [Page] they could not helpe the woman safely to be deliuered, that was in trauaile.

¶ What the Philosopher Pisto was, and of the rules he gaue concer­ning women with childe. Cap. xii.

IN the tyme of Octauian the Emperour, was a phylosopher called Pisto, whiche was of the secte of Pithagoras, and when Rome florished, he was very familiar with the Emperour Octauian, and welbeloued of all the peo­ple, whiche ought not to be a litle estemed: for he which of the prince is most fauoured, commonly of the people is moste hated. This Emperour Octauian was a prince very desirous of all vertuous thinges, so that when he dyned with his captaines, he spake of warre, when he supped with the sages, he reasoned of sciences, and he that vttered any dishonest or idle worde in his pre­sence, he alwayes afterward toke him as his enemy. This Pisto was very graue in weightie affaires, very pleasaunt in slentes and iestes, & ofte times he was demaunded many questiōs of the Emperour, whereof the answers of some (according to the demaundes and questions) here foloweth.

The Emperour said to Pisto, of all these that liueth, whom takest thou to be moste foole? to whom the Philosopher aunswered. In my opinion I take him to be moste foole, of whose worde there commeth no profite: for truly he is not so very a foole that slingeth stones into the winde, as he that vttereth vayne wordes.

Tell me Pisto, whom ought we of right to desire to speake, and whom of right to commaunde to be silent? he aunswered. It is good when speache doth profite, and good to kepe silence, when speache is hurtfull: for the one desiring to mainteine the good, and the other to defende the euil, warres be­ginne throughout all the worlde.

Tell me Pisto, from what thing ought the fathers moste to kepe their chil­dren? he sayd. In my opiniō parentes ought in nothing to watche so much, as to kepe them from being vicious: for the father ought rather to haue his sonne die well, then to liue euill.

Tell me Pisto, what shall man do if he be brought to this extremitie? that if he speake truthe, he condempneth him selfe: and if he make a lie, he saueth him selfe. The vertuous man (saide he) ought rather to chose to be ouercome by truthe, then to ouercome by lies: for it is vnpossible that a man which is a lier, should continue long in prosperitie.

Tell me Pisto, what shall man doe to obtaine reste? he aunswered. As I thinke the man can not haue reste, vnlesse he forsake worldly affaires: for the menne that are occupied with weightie affaires, can not be without great cares are alwayes accompanied of great troubles.

Tell me Pisto, wherein a man sheweth him selfe to be most wyse? he aun­swered. There is no greater profe to knowe a wyse man, then if he be paciēt to suffer the ignoraunt: for in suffering an iniury, the harte is more holpen by wysedome, then by knowledge.

Tell me Pisto, what is that thing that the vertuous man may lawfullye desire? he aunswered. All that that is good (so that it be not to the preiudice of any other) may honestly be desired: but in my opinion that onely ought to be desired, whiche openly without shame may be demaunded.

Tell me Pisto, what shal men doe with their wiues when they are great [Page 103] with child, to cause that the child in safetie may be deliuered? he aunswered. In the world there is nothyng more perylous, then to haue the charge of a woman with child. For if the husbande serue her, he hath payne & trauaile: and if perchaunce he doe not contente her, she is in daunger.

In this case, the wiues of Rome and their husbandes also oughte to be very diligent, and to the thinges folowyng more careful: the which I shew them more for counsell, then for commaundement. For good coūsell ought to haue as much auctoritie in the vertuous, as the commaundement hath in the vi­tious. Thou Octauian, as thou arte a mercifull and a pitieful Emperour, and that kepest thy Nece Cossucia great with childe, I know thou desirest that she had presentely good and luckye deliuery, and that she were deliuered of her paine: all the whyche thou shalte see, if thou doest marke these thynges that I will shew the here folowynge.

First, the woman oughte to beware of dauncing, leapinge, and running: for leaping oftentimes maketh man to loose his speache, and women with childe to loose their life, wherfore it is not reason that the folly of the mother should be permitted to put in hazarde the lyfe of the childe.

The secound, the woman beyng with child ought to beware that she be not so hardye to enter into gardeyns, wher there is much frute, and that for eating to many she be not yll deliuered: for it is no reason that the likerous­nes of the mother, be punished with the death of the childe.

The third, the woman with child ought to beware of ouer harde lacing herselfe about the midle: for many Roman Dames for to seme propre, doe weare their gownes so streighte, that it is an occasion to kyll their creatu­res: which is a heynous mater, that the yonge babe should loose hys lyfe, by­cause his mother shoulde seme pretye.

The fourth, the women with child ought to beware of eating in a great banket: for oftetimes there commeth a sodayne deliueraunce, only through eating without measure, and it is not mete that for tastinge a thyng of litell value, the mother and the child should both loose their liues.

The fifte, the woman beyng with child ought to beware that she giueth no eare to any sodayne newes: For she is in more daunger for hearynge a thing that greueth her, then for suffering long sicknes that paineth her: and it were vniust that for knowing of a trifeling matter, the mother that is to be deliuered, & the child that is to be borne, should both in one momēt perish.

The sixte, the woman with child ought to beware that she go not by any meanes to any feastes, wher ther shalbe any greate assembly of people: for oft times the woman with child, seyng her to be to much thrust and preast, beyng not able to say I am here, may immediatly dye in the place, and it is not reason, but an vniust thing, that the woman for the desire to see the chil­dren of others, should make of her owne orphanes.

The seuenth, the husband oughte to beware that she being with child, be not denayed any honest thing that she do minde: for in graunting her it can not cost him moche, but in denieng her he may loose much, and it should not be iust, that since in her bringing forth she honoreth and increaseth the com­men wealth of Rome, that Rome should condescend that any woman with childe should receyue any hurte or dishonour.

[Page]These be the aunswers that Pisto made to the Emperour Octauian, the which he gaue as rules to women with child, whiche beyng so kept, I doe assure you that the great Ladies shoulde deliuer them selues from many perilles, and the husbandes also should escape from many sorowes. Conclu­ding therfore that which aboue is spoken I saye, that princesses and greate ladies, when they are with child, ought to bee more ware and circumspect then other meane women: for where man hopeth to haue most profit, there oughte he most to be carefull. The auctour of this is Pulio in his third boke De moribus antiquorum and sextus. Cheronensis in his .5. booke de legibus domesticis

Of thre counselles which Lucius Seneca gaue vnto a secretary his frend, who serued the Emperour Nero: and how the Emperour Marke Aureille disposed all the howers of the daye. Chap. xiii.

THe Emperour Nero had a Secretary called Emilius Varro, the whyche beyng in Rome builded a sumptuous house ioyning vnto the gate of Salaria, wherunto he inuited one daye Lucius Seneca to a banquet, to the end the house might be more fortunate: for the Romains had a Prophecye, that accordyng to the good or yll lucke of him that first entred into a newe house, so should it continually be luckye, or vnlucky. Lucius Seneca graunted to the request of his frende Emilius Varro: and when they had well eaten, they went both to see this new building, shewyng vnto Lucius Seneca all thinges, at the laste the Secretary sayd thus vnto Seneca. Those betwene both are for gestes, those haulles are for marchauntes and suetors, these secrettes are for women, those chambers are for knightes, those galleries which are coue­red are to auoyde the sonne, this lowest part here is for horses, the Cellers are for the buttry: in the end he shewed him the whole house, for y^e furnishing wherof there lacked not one iotte. After the Secretarye Emilius Varro had shewed him all his house, he loked when his gest Seneca would greatly prayse and commend it, but he as though he knew nothing, sayd vnto Emilius Varro as he went out of the dores, whose house is this? wherunto Emillius aun­swered, how now Seneca canst not thou tel? I haue employed all my goodes in buildyng this house, and haue led the all about to see it, and I haue tolde the that it is mine, & yet doest thou aske me againe whose it is? Lucius Seneca aunswered. Thou haste shewed vs the house for straungers, the house for slaues, the house for women, the house for horses, and in all this house thou hast not shewed me one litel part for thy self, but y^t an other man doth enter into it: for if thou hast any interest therin, they haue the best therof, whiche is the possession. I accompt the a wise man, I doe accompt the a man of vn­derstanding, and also I know that withal thy hart thou art my frende: and since I haue bene bydden to day by the it is but reason, that for to rewarde that whych thou hast done to me, I do some seruice vnto the, whych shal be to giue vnto the some good counsel. For straungers vse to pay for the feast with money, & vaine men with telling lies, bablers by counting vaine tales, childrē by flatteries: but vertuous men ought to pay, bygening good counsel­les. This house hath cost y^t much paine, great griefes, & much money, and if it cost y^t so much, it is but reason that thou inioy y^e same. Take therfore these my thre counselles, & it may be thou wilte finde thy selfe better contented with those, then with y^e money of straungers: for many haue wherwithal to [Page 104] builde a house, but they haue not vnderstandyng to gouerne the same.

The first counsell is, though that thou loue thy frende verye well, or thy wife aswell, yet that thou neuer discouer all the secrettes of thy harte, ney­ther to thy frende, nor to thy wyfe: But that thou always reserue some par­ticuler vnto thy selfe. For Plato sayeth, to whom a man committeth his se­crettes, to him also he giueth his libertie.

The second counsell is, that neyther in priuate busines, nor in publicke af­faires thou occupye thy selfe so much, but at the least thou do reserue .3. hou­res in the day for thine owne reste.

The third councel is, that thou haue in thy house some secret place, wher­of thou alone shalt haue the key: and therein thou shalte haue bookes, wher thou maiest study of thy affaires, and also talke with thy frendes. Finallye, this place shalbe a secretory of thy counselles, and a rest for thy trauelles. These were the wordes that Lucius Seneca spake to his frende Emilius Varro, whiche wordes were such as he him selfe was, that is to wete, of a sage and excellent personnage: and thoughe the banquet was riche, yet the paymente of Lucius Seneca was much more worth. For the minde feleth more tast in the good and rype counsell: then the bodie doth in sauory and delicate meates. I haue tolde you this example of Lucius Seneca, for to tell an other that happe­ned to the Emperour Marcus Aurelius with his wise Faustine. And to the end that the order of the matter be not tourned without breaking our Historye, first we will declare here the order whiche this Emperour obserued in hys lyfe. For the commen wealth shall neuer be well gouerned, but where the prince gouerneth well his lyfe.

Princes of necessitie ought to be wel ordered in their life, because they may profite the affaires of the Empire, with the perticulers of their house, and be cause they should vse the perticulers of their house, to the recreacion of their personne: and all these thinges ought to be deuided accordyng to time. For a good prince ought to lacke no time to do that thinge well which he hath to do: nor he oughte to haue any tyme vacant to employe him selfe to vice. The worldly call that time good, the which is, or was prosperous vnto thē: they call that time eull, which is, or hath bene contrary and vnfortunat vnto thē, The Creator wil neuer that this sentence be approued by my penne: but I call that time good, which is imployed in vertues, and that time euill, that is lost in vices. For the times are alwayes as one, but men do tourne from vice to vertue, from vertue to vice. The good Emperour Marcus Aurelius did deuid the time, by time: so that though he had time for him selfe, he had time lykewise to dispatche his owne and others affaires: for the man y^t is willing, in a small time dispatcheth much busynes: & the man which is necligent, in a longe tyme doth lytel. This was the order that the Emperour Marcus Au­relius toke in spendyng his time. He slepte .7. houres in the nighte, and one hower reasted hym selfe in the day. In dyning and suppynge he consumed onely .2. howers: and it was not for that he toke great pleasure to be longe in eatinge, but bycause the philosophers whyche disputed before his presence, were occasion to prolonge the time. For in .17. yeares they neauer saw hym at meate, but one or other redde vnto him some booke, or elles the philoso­phers reasoned before hym philophye. As he hadde manye realmes and [Page] prouinces, so he appointed one hower for the affaires of Asia, for Affryke one hower, and for Europe another hower, and for the conuersacion of his wife, children, and family, he appointed other .2. howers of time: he had another hower for extraordinary affaires, as to here the complaintes of the greued, the quarrelles of the poore, the complaintes of the widowes, and the robbe­ries done to the orphanes. For the mercifull prince geueth no lesse eare vnto the poore, which for want can doe lytell: then to the riche, which for aboun­dance can do much. He occupyed all the residew of the day and night to rede bokes, write workes, to make meter, and in studyng of other antiquities, to practyse with the sage, and to dyspute with the philosophers: and fynally he toke no tast of any thing so muche, as he dyd to talke of science: Vnlesse the cruell warres dyd let hym, or suche lyke affaires troubled him: ordynarily in winter he went to bed at .9. of the clocke, and awaked at .4. and bycause he would not be idle, he had alway a boke vnder his beddes hed, and the resi­due of y^e day he bestowed in readyng. The romans had an auncient custome to beare fyer before them, that is to wete, a torche lyghte in the daye, and a lampe burnyng in the night in their chambers, so that wakyng they burned waxe, and fleapyng they hourned oyle. And the cause why the Romans or­deyned that the oyle should be made of olyue, and the waxe made of bees (which was vsed to be borne before the princes) was to the end they should remember, that they ought to be as gentell and louing, as the oyle of Olyue is swete: and as profytable to the common wealth, as the Bees are. He did rise at .6. of the clocke, and made him selfe ready openlye, and with a gentle countenaunce he asked them that were about hym, wherin they had spente all the nyght, and declared vnto them then what he had dreamed, what he had thought, and what he had red: when he was readye, he washed his face with odiferous waters, and loued veray wel swete sauoures. For he had so quycke a sent, that he was much offended when he passed by any stincking place. In the mornyng he vsed to eate .2. morsels of a lectuary made of Stica­des. and dranke .3. sponefulls of maluesey, or els two droppes of Aqua Vite, by­cause he had a colde stomacke, for that he gaue hym selfe so muche to studye in tymes past. We se it by experience, that the greate studentes are persecu­ted more with sycknes, then any others: for in the swetenes of the scyence, they knowe not how their lyfe consumeth. If it were in the sommer season, he went in the mornyng to recreate him selfe to the ryuer of Tiber, and wal­ked there a fote for .2. howers, and in this place they talked with hym that had busines: and trulye it was a great policie, for wher as the Prince doeth not syt, the sewtour alwayes abridgeth his talke, And when the day began to wax hot, he went to y^e hight capitol where al the Senate taried for him, & from thence he went to y^e Coliseo, wher the imbassadours of the prouinces wer, & there remained a great part of y^e day: afterwardes he went to y^e chappel of the vestal virgines, & ther he hard euery nation by it selfe, accordyng to the order which was prescribed. He dyd eate but one meale in the daye, & it was veray late, but he did eate wel: not of many & diuers sortes of meates, but of fewe and good. For the aboundaunce of diuerse and straunge meates breadeth sondry dysseases. They sawe him once a weke go thoroughe Rome, and if he wente anye more it was a wonder: at the whyche tyme he was [Page 104] alwayes without companie, both of his owne, and also of straungers, to thentente all poore men myghte talke with him of their busines, or com­plaine of his officers: for it is vnpossible to reforme the common wealthe, if he which ought to remedy it, be not informed of the iniuryes done in y^e same? He was so gentle in conuersacion, so pleasaunt in wordes, so noble amongest the great, so equall with the least, so reasonable in that he dyd aske, so persyte in that he dyd worke, so patiēt in iniuries, so thankefull of benefittes, so good to the good, and so seuere to the euill: that all loued him for beyng good, and all the euill feared him for being iuste? A man oughte not lytell to esteme the loue that the people bare to this so good a Prince, and noble Emperour, for­somuch as the Romans haue bene thus: that for the felicitye of their estate, they offered to their gods greater sacryfyce, then they dyd in any other pro­uinces. And Sextus Cheronensis sayeth, that the Romains offered more sacrify­ces to y^e gods, because they should lengthen y^e lyfe of the Emperour, then they dyd offer for the profyte of the common wealthe. Trulye their reason was good, for the Prynce that leadeth a good lyfe, is the harte of the common wealthe. But I doe not maruaile that the Emperour was so well wylled, and beloued of the Romayn empire, for he had neuer porter to hys chamber, but the .2. howers which he remained with his wyfe Faustine. Al this beyng past, the good Emperour went into his house into the secretest place he had (accordyng to the councel of Lucius Seneca) they key whereof he alone had in his custodye, and neuer trusted any man therwith, vntyll the hower of hys death: and then he gaue it to an old auncient man called Pompeianus, sayeng vnto hym these wordes. Thou knowest ryght wel Pompeianus, y^t thou beyng base, I exalted the to honor. Thou beyng poore. I gaue the riches. Thou being persecuted, I drewe the to my pallas. I beyng absente, committed my hole honoure to thy trust, thou beyng old, I maryed the with my doughter, and doe presently gyue the this key. Behold that in geuing the it, I giue the my harte & lyfe. For I will thou know, that death greueth me not so much, nor the losse of my wyfe and children, as that I cannot carye my bookes in­to the graue. Yf the Gods had geuen me the choyse, I had rather chose to be in the graue inuyroned with bookes: then to lyue accompanyed wyth fooles: for if the dead doe rede. I take them to be alyue: but if the lyuing doe not reade, I take them to be deade.

Vnder this key which I gyue y^e, remayneth many Greke. Hebrue, latine, and Roman bookes, and aboue all vnder this key remayneth al my paynes, swet, and trauayles, al my watchinges, and labours, where also thou shalte fynde bokes by me compyled: so that though the wormes of the yearth doe eate my body: yet men shall fynde my harte hole amongest these bokes.

Once againe I doe require the, and saye that thou oughtest not a lytell to esteame the key which I giue the: for wise men at the hower of their death, alwayes recommed that whiche they best loue, to them which in their liues they haue most loued. I doe confesse, that in my studie thou shalte fynd ma­ny thinges with myne owne hand written and wel ordered: and also I con­fesse that thou shalte find many thinges by me left vnpersit. In this case I thinke that though thou couldest not wryte them, yet thou shalt worke thē wel notwithstandynge: and by these meanes thou shalte get reward of the [Page] Gods for workyng them. Consyder Pompeian, that I haue ben thy lorde, I haue ben thy father in law, I haue bene thy father, I haue bene thy aduo­cate, and aboue all, that I haue bene thy speciall frend, which is most of all: for a man ought to esteme more a faithful frend, then all the parentes of the world. Therfore in the faith of that frendshyp I require, that thou kepe this in memory, that euen as I haue recommended to others my wife, my chil­dren, my goods, and ryches: So I do leaue vnto the in singular recommen­dacion my honoure: For prynces leaue of them selues no greater memorye, then by the good learning that they haue wrytten. I haue bene .18. yeares emperour of rome, and it is .lx. and .iii. yeares that I haue remayned in thys wofull life, during whiche time I haue ouercome many battailles, I haue slayne many pirattes, I haue exalted many good, I haue punished manye euil, I haue wonne many realmes, & I haue distroyed many tirauntes. But what shal I do, woful man y^t I am, sithe all my compagnions which were witnesses with me of al these worthy feates, shalbe my compagnions in the graue with the gredy wormes? A thousand yeares hence, when those that are now alyue shal then be dead: what is he that shal say, I saw Marcus Au­relius triumphe ouer the Parthians, I saw him make the buildings in Auentino, I saw him welbeloued of the people, I saw him father of the orphanes, I saw him the scourg of tiraūtes: truly if al these thinges had not ben declared by my bookes, or of my frendes, the dead would neuer haue rysen agayn to haue declared them. What is it for to se a prince (from the time he is borne, vntil the time he come to dye) to se the pouerty he passeth, the perilles he en­dureth, the euil that he suffereth, the shame that he dyssembleth, the frende­shyp that he fayneth, the teares which he sheaddeth, y^t sighes that he fetchith. the promises that he maketh, and doeth not endure for any other cause the mysteries of this life: but onely to leaue a memorye of him after his death? There is no prince in the worlde that desireth not to keape a good house, to keape a good table, to aparrel him selfe rychely, & to pay those that serue hym in his house: but by this vaine honour, they suffer y^e water to passe thorough their lippes not drinking therof. As one that hath proued it, it is reason that I be beloued in this case, and that is: that the entent of princes to conquere straunge Realmes, and to permit their owne to suffer wronges is for no o­ther thyng, but because that the commendacions which they speake of the princes past, they should lykewyse talke the same of them that be to come. Concluding therfore my mynde, and declaring my intencion, I say that the Prince that is noble, and desireth to leaue of him selfe some fame, let hym consider and se what it is that those can write of him, which writ his history: for it profiteth litel that he atchieue greate affayers by the swerde, if there be no writer to sette them fourth with the penne, and afterwardes to exalte them with the tonge.

These wordes thus spoken by y^e noble Emperour Marcus Aurelius, he gaue the key of his studye to the honourable old man Pompeianus, that toke all the wrytinges, and put them in the high Capitol, where the Romans honored them, as the christians the holye Scriptures: all these writynges besydes many others peryshed in rome, when by the Barbarous it was dystroyed. For the Gothes, (vtterly to extinguishe the name of rome) distroyed not onely the [Page 106] walles therof, but also the bokes that were therein: and trulye in this case the Goothes shewed more crueltye to the Romans, then if they had slayne the children of their bodies, or bet downe the walles of their Cities. For without doubte the lyuelye letter is a moresewerer wytnes of renowme, that alwayes speaketh: then eyther the lyme, sand, or stone, wherwith for­tresses are buylded.

Of the importunate suete of the Empresse Faustine, to the Emperour Marke Aureille Concerning the key of his closet. Chap. xiiii.

VVe Haue declared, howe the Emperoure Marcus Aurelius had his studie in the secretest place of al the palace, and how that he him selfe did kepe the key. It is to be vnderstande, that he would neuer let his wife, hys children, nor any other of his familier frendes come into it, for he said: I had rather suffer that they shoulde take from me my treasoures, then that any man should turne the leaues of my bookes. It chaunced, that on a daye the Empresse Faustine being great with child, importuned the Emperour muche by all the meanes she could, that he would be so fauourable vnto her, as to gyue her the key of his studye, and it is no meruaile: for naturallye women dispise that which is geuen them, and lust forth at that is denayed them, Faustine instantly besoughte him, not once, but manye times, not onely with fayer wordes, but with aboundaunt teares, alleagynge vnto him these rea­sons. I haue requyred the sondrye tymes, that thou wouldest gyue me the key of thy chamber, and thou haste by iestinge made frustrate my request, the whych thou (my Lorde) oughte not to haue done, consyderynge that I am with childe: for oftetimes it chaunceth, that that wherfore the husbande reioyceth this daye, tomorow he doeth lamente. Thou oughtest to remem­ber that I am that Faustine the renowmed, the which in thy eyes am the fai­rest, and of thy tonge haue bene most commended, of thy parson I was best beloued, and of thy harte I am most desired: then since it is true, that thou hast me so depely in hart, why then doubtest thou to shew me the writ­tinges of thy study? Thou doest communicate with me the secretes of the empire, and thou hydest from me the bokes of thy study. Thou hast geuen me thy tender harte of flesh, and now thou deniest me thy harde key of yron: now I must neades thinke that thy loue was fayned, that thy words were doble, and that thy thoughtes wer others then they seamed. For if they had ben otherwise, it had ben vnpossible thou shouldest haue denaied me the key that I do aske the: for where loue is vnfayned, thoughe the requeste be me­rilye asked, yet it is wyllyngly graunted. It is a commen custome, that you men vse to deceiue vs symple women, you present vs great gyftes, you gyue many fayre wordes, you make vs faier promyses, you saye you will do mar­ueiles, but in the end you doe nothing but deceiue vs: for we are persecuted more of you, then of any others. When men in such wyse importune the wo­men if the women hadde power to denaye and withstande, we shoulde in shorte space brynge ye vnder the yoke, and leade you by the noses: but when we suffer oure selues to be ouercome, then you beginne to forsake vs, and despise vs. Let me therfore (my Lorde) see thy chamber, consyder I am with childe, and that I dye onlesse I see it. If thou doest not to doe me plea­sure, yet do it at the least because I may no more importune the. For if [Page] I come in daunger thoroughe this my longing I shall but lose my lyfe but thou shalte loose the childe that should be borne, and the mother also that oughte to beare it. I know not why thou shouldest put thy noble harte into such a daungerous fortune, whereby both thou and I at one time shoulde peryshe: I in dyeng so yong, and thou in losyng so louynge a wyfe.

By the immortall gods I do beseche the, and by the mother Berecinthia I coniure the, that thou geue me the key, or that thou let me enter into the stu­dye: and stycke not with me thy wyfe in this my small request, but chaunge thy opinion: for all that which without consideracion is ordeyned, by impor­tunate sewte may be reuoked. We see dayly that men by reading in bookes loue their children, but I neauer sawe harte of man fall in such sorte, that by readyng and lokyng in bookes he should despyse hys children: for in the end bookes are by the wordes of others made: but children are with their owne proper bloud begotten. Before that any thinge of wysedom is begon, they alwayes regard the inconuenyences that maye folowe. Therefore if thou wilte not geue me this key, and that thou arte determyned to be stoberne still in thy will, thou shalt lose thy Faustine, thou shalte lose so louyng a wyfe, thou shalte lose the creature werwith she is bigge, thou shalte lose the auc­thoritie of thy palace, thou shalte geue occasion to all Rome to speake of the wickednes, and this grefe shall neauer departe from thy harte: for the harte shall neuer be comforted, that knoweth that he onely is the occasion of hys owne griefe. Yf the Gods doe suffer it by their secreate iudgementes, and if my wofull myshappes deserue it, and if thou (my Lord) desirest it for no other cause, but euen to do after thy wil, for denayeng me this key, I should dye: I would wyllingly dye. But of that I thinke thou wilt repente: for it chaunceth oftetymes to wysemen, that when remedy is gone, y^e repentaunce commeth sodeinlye. And then it is to late (as they saye) to shutte the stable dore, when the steade is stollen.

I marueill much at the my Lorde, why thou shouldest shew thy selfe so froward in this case, since thou knowest that all the time we haue bene to­gethers, thy wil and myne hath alway bene one, if thou wilte not geue me thy key, for that I am thy welbeloued Faustine, if thou wilte not let me haue it, sinse I am thy deare beloued wyfe, if thou wilte not geue it me, for that I am great with childe. I beseche the geue it me in vertue of the auncient law. For thou knowest it is an inuiolate law among the Romaines, that a man cānot denay his wife with child her desiers. I haue sene sondry times with myne eyes, many women sew their husbandes at the law in this be­halfe: and thou Lorde commaundest that a man should not breake the pry­uileges of women.

Then if this thing be true (as it is true in dead) why wilte thou that the lawes of strang children should be kepte, and that they should be broken to thine owne children? Speakyng according to the reuerence that I owe vn­to the, thoughe thou wouldest, I wil not, thoughe thou doest it, I will not agree therunto, and though thou doest commaund it, in this case I wil not obey the. For if the husband doe not accept the iuste request of his wyfe, the wyfe is not bounde to obey the vniust commaundement of her husbande. You husbandes desier that your wyues should serue you, you desier that [Page 107] your wiues should obey you in all, and ye will condiscende to nothing that they desyer. Ye menne saye, that we women haue no certeintie in our loue, but in dead you haue no loue at all. For by this it appeareth, that you loue is fained, in that it no longer continueth then your desires are satisfyed. You saye furdermore, that the women are suspytious, and that is true in you al, men may see, and not in vs: for none other cause there are so manye euell maried in Rome, but bycause their husbandes haue of them suche iuell opinions. There is a great dyfference betwene the suspition of the woman, and the ielousye of the man: for if a man will vnderstande the suspition of the woman, it is no other thynge, but to shewe to her husbande that she loueth hym with all her hearte. For the innocente women knowe no others, desire no others but their husbandes only, and they woulde that their husbandes should knowe none others, nor serche for anye others, nor loue any others, nor will anye others, but them onely: for the hearte that is bente to loue one onely, would not that into that house should enter anye other.

But you men knowe so manye meanes, and vse so manye subtelties, that you prayse youre selues for to offende them, you vaunt youre selues to de­ceiue them, and that it is trewe, a man can in nothynge so muche shew his noblenes, as to susteyne and fauoure a Cortisan.

The husbandes pleaseth their wyues speakynge vnto them some merye wordes, and immediately their backes being tourned, to another they geue bothe their bodyes and their good. I sware vnto the (my Lorde) that if wo­men had the libertie and aucthoritye ouer men, as men haue ouer women: they should fynde more malice, dysceiptfulnes, and crafte, by them commit­ted in one daye, then they should fynde in the women all the dayes of their lyfe. You men saye that women are euill speakers, it is true in dede that youre tonges are none other, but the stynges of serpentes: for ye doe con­dempne the good men, and defame the Roman women. And thynke not (yf you speake euill of other women) to excuse your owne: for the man that by his tonge dyshonereth straunge women, doeth not so much iuel, as he doeth by defamyng his owne wyfe by suspytion. For the husbande that suspec­tith hys wyfe, geueth all men licence to accompt her for noughte. Sythe we women goe lytell oute of the house, we trauayle not farre, and sithe we see fewe thinges, thoughe we woulde we cannot be euill tonged: but you menne heare muche, you see muche, you know muche, you wander abrode muche, and continually you murmure. All the euill that we selye women can do, is to listen to our frendes when they are vexed, to chide oure ser­uauntes when they are necligent, to enuye our neighbours if they be faier, and to cursse those that doeth vs iniurye: finallye thoughe wee speake euill, we cannot murmure, but at those that dwelleth in the same streate where wee dwell. But you menne defame youre wyues by suspition, you dyshonoure youre neyghbours in youre wordes, you speake agaynste straungers wyth crueltye, you neyther keape faythe nor promyse to youre wyues, you shewe youre selues extreme agaynste youre enemyes, you murmoure bothe at those that bee presente, and also at them that be absente: finally on the one parte you are so doble, and on the other parte you are so vnthankefull, that to those whom you desire, you make faire [Page] promyses, & those whose bodyes you haue enioyed, you littel esteame. I con­fesse that the woman is not so good as she oughte to be, and that it is neces­sarye that she should be kepte in the house, and so she shall leade a good lyfe, and beyng of good lyfe, she shall haue good renowme, and hauing good re­nowme, she shalbe wel willed: but if perchaunce any of those do want in her, yet for all that she oughte not to be reiected of her husbande. For the fraile­nes that menne finde in women is but litell: but the euils that women tast in men is veraye great. I haue talked lenger then I thought, and haue sayed more boldly then I ought, but pardon me (my lord) for mine intentiō was not to vexe the, but to perswade the. For in the end he is a foole that taketh that for iniury, whiche passeth betwene the man and the wyfe in se­creat. I sticke alwayes to my first poynt, and if it neade, once againe I re­quire the that thou wilte geue me the key of thy studye: & if thou do other­wise (as thou mayst) thou shalt do such a thyng, as thou oughtest not to doe. I am not angry so much for y^t thou doest, as for the occasiō thou geuest me.

Therefore to auoyde the peril of my deliuery, and to take from me all sus­spition, I praye the (my lorde) deliuer me the key of thy study: for otherwise I cannot be perswaded in my harte, but that you haue a woman locked in your study. For men that in their youth haue bene vnconstant, thoughe the apparell that they haue be not worne: yet notwitstandynge they desire to haue new. Therfore once againe to preserue me from perill in my deliuery, and to lyghten my hart of this thought, it shalbe well done that you let me enter into your studie.

The aunswere of the Emperour to Faustine concerning her demaunde of the key of the studdie. Chap. xv.

THe Emperour hearing the wordes of Faustine, and seyng that she spake them so ernestly, that she bathed her wofull wordes with bitter teares determined also to aunswere her as ernestlye, and sayd vnto her these wordes. Wife Faustine, thou hast told me all that thou wouldest, and I haue heard al thy complaint. Therfore I desire the now to haue asmuch pacience to here my aunswer: as I haue had paine to heare thy demaunde. And pre­pare thy eares to here my wordes: as I haue listned mine to heare thy folly. For in like matter, when the tong doth applie it selfe to speake any word, the eares ought immediatly to prepare them to heare it, for to make aunswere. For this is most sure, that he that speaketh what he would, shall here what he would not. Before I tell the what thou arte, and what thou oughtest to be, I will first tel what I am, and what I ought to be: For I wil thou vn­derstād Faustine, that I am so euil, that y^t the which mine enemyes doth report of me, is but a trifle in respect of that which my familiers, & frendes woulde say if they knew me. To the end the prince be good, he ought not to be coue­tous of tributes, neither proud in commaundementes, nor vnthanckefull of seruices, nor to be forgetfull of the temples: he ought not to be deaffe to here griefes, cōplaints, & quarells, nor cruel to orphanes, nor yet necligēt in affai­res. And the man that shall want these vices, shall be both beloued of men, & fauoured of the gods. I confesse first of all y^t I haue bene couetous: For in dede those which with troubles annoy princes lest, & with money serue them most: are of all other men beloued best.

[Page 108]Secondarily, I confesse that I am proude: For there is no prince at thys day in the world so brought vnder, but when fortune is most lowest, he hath hys harte very haughtie.

Thirdly, I confesse that I am vnthankful: for amongest vs that are prin­ces, the seruices that they doe vnto vs are greate, and the rewardes that we geue vnto them are litell.

Forthly, I do confesse that I am an euill founder of temples: or amōngest vs princes we do not sacrifice vnto the gods very oft, vnlesse it be when wee see our selues to be inuironned with enemies.

Fiftly, I confesse that I am necligent to heare the plaintes of the oppres­sed: for flatterers haue towardes their princes more easy audience by their flattery, then the poore, pleadyng to declare their complaintes by truth.

Sixtly, I confesse that I am carelesse for the orphanes: for in the courtes and pallaces of princes the riche and mightie are most familiar, but the mi­serable and poore orphanes are scarcely hearde.

Seuenthly, I confesse that I am necligent in dispatching poore mens causes: for princes ofte times, not prouidyng in time for their affaires, many and great perilles ensueth to their Realmes.

Mark here Faustyne, how I haue told y^e what (according to reason) I ought to be, & what accordyng to the sensualitie I am: and meruayle not thoughe I confesse mine errour. For the man that acknowlegeth his faulte, gyueth hope of amendement. Let vs now come to talke of the, and by that I haue spoken of me, thou maiest iudge of thy selfe: For we men are so euill cōditio­ned, y^t we behold y^e vttermost the offences of an other, but we wil not heare the faultes of our selues. It is a true thing, my wife Faustine, y^t when a wo­man is mery, she always speaketh more with her [...]ong, then she knoweth in her harte: For women light of tong, speake many thinges in companye, the which they do lament after whē they are alone. Al the contrary commeth to wofull men, for they doe not speake the halfe of their grefes: because their heauy and woful hartes commaundeth their eyes to wepe, and their tongs to be silent. Vaine and foolish men, by vaine and foolish wordes do publishe their vaine and light pleasurs: and the wise men, by wise wordes doe dissē ­ble their greauous sorowes. For though they fele the troubles of this lyfe, they dissemble them as men. Amongest the sages he is most wisest, that presumeth to know least: & amongest the simple he is most ignoraunt, that thinketh to know most. For if ther be foūd one that knoweth much: yet al­ways ther is found an other y^t knoweth more. This is one difference wher­by y^t wise men are knowen from those that be simple, that is to wete, that the wise man to one that asketh him a questiō aūswereth slouly & grauely, and the simple mā, though he be not asked, aunswereth quicke & lightly. For in y^t house wher noblenesse & wisdom ar, they giue riches without measure, but they giue words by ounces. I haue told the al this Faustine, bicause thy wordes haue wounded me in such sorte, thy teares in such wise haue cōpel­led me, and thy vayne Iudgementes haue weryed me so much, that I can not say what I would, nor I thynke thou cāst perceiue what I say. Those which wrote of mariage, wrote many things: but they wrote not so many troubles in al their bokes, as one womā causeth her husbād to fele in on day.

[Page]The auncientes spake well when they reasoned of mariages: For at all tymes when they talked of mariage, at the beginnyng they put these wor­des, Onus Matrimonij. That is to saye, thc yoke of mariage. For truly if the man be not well maried, all the troubles that maye happen vnto him in all the time of hys lyfe, are but small in respect to be matched one daye with an euyll wyfe.

Doest thou thinke Faustine, that it is a small trouble for the husbande to suffre the brawlinges of his wife? to indure her vayne wordes? to beare with her fonde wordes? to gyue her what she requireth? to seeke that she de­sireth? and to dissemble with all their vanities? trulye it is so vnpaciēt a trou­ble, that I would not desyre any greater reuengement of my enemye, then to see him maried with a brawlynge wyfe.

If the husbande be proude, you doe humble him: For there is no proude man, what so euer he be, but a fyerce woman will make him stoupe.

If the husbande be foolyshe, you restore him his sences againe: For there is no greater wysedome in the world, then to know how to endure a braw­lynge woman. If the husbande be wylde, you make him tame: For the time is so much that you occupie in brawling, that he can haue no time to speake. If the husbande be slow, you make him runne: for he desireth so much your contentation in harte, that the wofull man can not eate in quiete, nor sleape in rest. If the husband be a great talker, in shorte space you make him dōme: For the floutes and mockes that you gyue hym at euery worde, are so ma­ny in nombre, that he hath none other remedye but to refraine his tonge. If the husband be suspitious, you make him chaunge his minde: For the try­felles that you aske at euery houre are such, and so many, and you therwith so selfe willed, that he dare not tell what he seeth in hys owne house.

If the husband be a wanderer abroade, you make him forthwith to be abi­der at home: for you looke so yll to the house and goodes, that he findeth no other remedye but to be alwayes at home. If the husband be vitious, you restraine him immediatly: for you burden his hart with so manye though­tes, that his bodye hath no delighte to vse any pleasurs. Finally I say that if the husbande be peacible, within shorte space you make hym vnquiete: for your paines are suche, so many, and so continuall, that there is no harte can wholye dissemble them, nor tong that vtterly can kepe them secret. Natu­rally women haue in al thinges the sprite of contradiction, for so muche as if the husbandes wil speake, they wil hold their peace. If he go forth, they wil tarye at home. If he will laughe, they will weape. If he will take pleasure, they will vexe him. If he be sorowfull, they will be merye. If he desire peace, they would haue warre. If he would eate, they will fast. If he would faste, they would eate. If he woulde slepe, they will watche: and yf thou wilte watche, they will sleape. Fynally I say, that they are of so euill a condicion, that they loue all that we dispise: and dispise al that we loue. In mine opi­nion, the men that are wise, and will obteine that which they desire of their wiues: let them not demaunde of them that whiche they would obtaine, yf they will come to their desire. For to them which are diseased, the letting of bloud is most profitable, when the vaine in the contrarye side is opened. It is no other thing to be let bloud in the contrary side, but to aske of the wo­man [Page 109] with his mouthe, the contrary of that whiche he desireth with his harte: for otherwyse, neither by fayre wordes of his mouth, nor by the bitter teares of his eyes, he shall euer obtayne that whiche his harte desireth. I confesse Faustine it is a pleasaunte sporte to beholde the younge Babes, and thou canste not denaye me, but it is a cruell torment to endure the importu­nities of their mothers. Chyldren nowe and then ministre vnto vs occasions of pleasures: but you that are their mothers neuer doe any thinge, but that whiche turneth vs to trouble. It is muche pleasure to the husbande when he commeth home to fynde the house cleane swepte, to fynde the table coue­red, and to fynde the meate ready dressed: this is to be vnderstanded, if all other thinges be well. But what shall we saie when he seeth the contrarie? and that he findeth his children weaping, his neighbours offended, his ser­uauntes troubled, and aboue all, when he findeth his wyfe brauling. Truly it is better to the wofull husbande, to goe his waye fastinge: then to tary and eate at home with brauling. I durst take vpon me to cause, that al ma­ried men would be content to forbeare all the pleasures of the children, with cōdition that they might be fre from y^e annoiaunce of the mothers: for in the end, the pleasures of the children endeth quickly with laughter, but the grie­fes of y^e mothers endureth al their life with sorow. I haue sene one thing in Rome, wherin I was neuer deceiued, which is, that though men commitie great offences in this worlde, yet God alwayes deferreth the punishmente thereof vntyll another: But if for any womans pleasure we committe any faulte, God permitteth, that by the same women, in this worlde we shall suf­fer the payne. There is no crueller enemy to man, nor more troublesome to liue with all, then the woman is that he kepeth in his house: for if he suffer her once to haue her owne wyll, then let him be assured neuer after to bring her vnto obedience. The younge men of Rome folowe the Ladies of Capua, but they may well repente them: for there was neuer man that haunted of any longe tyme the company of women, but in the ende to their procure­ment, either by death, or with infamie he was defaced. For the Gods esteme the honour aboue all thinges, and as they suffer the wickednes of the euyll men: so we see the sharpe punishementes that they ordeine for them. I am well assured Faustine of one thing, and I doe not speake it by heare saye, but because continually I haue proued it, and it is: that the husband which con­discendeth to all that the wyfe desireth, causeth his wife to doe nothing of that her husband commaundeth. For there is nothing that kepeth a womā more vnder obedience to her husband: then when oft times he denieth with sharpe wordes her vnlawfull request. In my opinion it is muche crueltie of the barbarous, to kepe (as they do) their wiues like sclaues: but it is muche more folly of the Romaines, to kepe them (as they doe) like Ladies. The fleshe ought not to be so leane that it be in eating drie, nor yet so fat that there be no leane: but it would participate both of the fat and of the leane, to the in­tent it might geue the more nourishement. I meane, that the man of vn­derstanding ought not to kepe his wyfe so shorte, that she should seme to be his seruaunt: nor yet to geue her so muche libertie, that she becommeth his mistresse. For the husbande that suffereth his wife to commaunde more then she ought, is the cause why he him selfe afterwardes is not estemed as he [Page] should be. Beholde Faustine, you women are in all thinges so extreame, that for a litle fauour you waxe proude: and for a litle displeasure you become great enemies. There is no woman that willingly can suffer to haue any superiour, nor yet scarcely can endure to haue any equal: for we see that you loue not the highest, nor desire to be loued of the lowest. For where as the lo­uers be not equal, there their loue can not be perfite. I knowe well Faustine that thou doest not vnderstande me, therefore harken what I doe tell thee, more then thou thinkest, and more then thou wouldest. O what and howe many women haue I sene in Rome, the which though they had two thou­sand pound of rent in their houses, yet they had thre thousand follies in their heades: and the worste of all is, that oftetimes her husbande dieth, and she looseth her rente, yet for all that ceasseth not her folly. Nowe listen Faustine, and I will tell thee more. All women will speake, and they will that others be silent. All wil commaunde, and will not that they be commaunded. All wil haue libertie, and they wil that al be captiues to them. Al wil gouerne, and wil not be gouerned. Finally they al in this one thing agree, and that is that they will cherishe theym that they loue, and reuenge theym of those that they hate. Of that whiche before is saide it may be gathered, that they make fooles and sclaues of the young & vaine men which folow them: and persecute the wise men, as enemies that flie them. For in the end where as they loue vs moste, their loue may be measured: but where as they hate vs leaste, their hate exceadeth reason. In the Annales of Pompeius I remember I haue redde, & doe note one thinge worthy of knowledge, that when Pom­peius the great passed first into Asia, as by chaūce he came by the mountaines of Rypheos, he founde in those places a Barbarous nation, that liued in the sharpe mountaines as wilde beastes: and doe not marueile that I doe call them beastly, that liue in those mountaines. For as the sheepe & cowes that feade on the fine grasse, haue their wolle softe and fine: so the men which are brought vp in the sharpe & wylde mountaines, vse themselues after a rude behauiour. These Barbarous had therfore a lawe among them, that euery neighbour had in those mountaines two caues: for the sharpnes of the hyl­les permitted not that they should haue any houses. Therefore in one caue, the husbandes, the sonnes, and the seruauntes were: and in the other, his wife, his doughters, and his handemaydes abode: they did eate toge­thers twise in the weeke, they slept togethers other twyse in the weeke, and al y^e residue of the time, they were seperate the one from the other. The great Pompeius asked them what the cause was why they liued so, sithe it was so that in all the world there was neuer sene nor redde such extreme lawe, nor so straunge a custome. The historie saith in that place, that an auncient man aunswered him, saying beholde Pompeius, that the gods haue geuen short life vnto vs that be present, in respect of that whiche he gaue to our fathers that are past: and since we lyue but fourty or fiftie yeres at the vttermost, we de­sire to enioye those daies in peace: for the life is so shorte, and oure trouble so longe, that we haue small tyme to reioyce in peace after we retourne from the warres. It is true, that amongest you Romaines, whiche enioye plea­sure and richesse, life seameth to short: but vnto vs that haue toyle with po­uertie, lyfe semeth to longe: For through out all the yeare we neuer keape [Page 110] suche solempne feastes, as when one passeth out of his life. Consider Pom­peius, that if men liued many yeares, there should be time to laugh & weepe, to be good and to be euill, to be poore and to be ryche, to be mery and sadde, to lyue in peace and warre: but why wyll men seeke contention in their lyfe, synce it is so shorte? In keping with vs (as you doe) our owne wyues, in li­uing we should die, for the nightes should passe in hearing their cōplaintes, and the dayes in suffering their brawlinges: but keping them as we doe, we see not their heauy countenaunce, we heare not the cryeng of our chyl­dren, we heare not their greuous complaintes, nor listen vnto their sorowe­full wordes, neyther we are troubled with their importunate sutes, and yet the chyldren are nouryshed in peace, and the father foloweth the warre: so that they are well, and we are better. This was the aunswere that this olde man gaue, at the requeste of the great Pompeius. Truly Faustine I saye, that though we call the Messagetes Barbarous, in this case they knowe more then the Latynes. For he that is free from a brawling woman, hath escaped no small pestilence. I ask thee nowe Faustine, synce those barbarous coulde not agree, nor would not haue their wyues with them in those sharpe mountaines, howe shall we other agree, and please you that lyue in these pleasures in Rome? One thing I wil tel thee Faustine, and I besech the Gods that thou mayest vnderstande it, whiche is. If the beastly motions of the fleashe dyd not force men to wyll, and also to desyre women, I doubte whether there should be any woman in the worlde beloued or suffered. For though nature geueth them giftes worthy to be beloued: yet they through their small dis­cretion cause them selues to be hated. If the Gods had made this loue vo­luntarie, as they made it natural, so that we might haue loued as we would and lefte agayne at our pleasure: that man ought worthely to haue ben pu­nyshed, whiche for the loue of any woman would putte his life in daunger. The gods haue kept this great secret vnto them selues, and the mysery that they gaue vnto men is very great: since that vnto so weake fleshe, he gaue so strong a harte, the whiche doth procure that whiche doth vs harme, and fo­loweth that whiche we ought to abhorre. This is an other secrete, that all men knowe when they offende, but I see no man that seketh amendement: for I heare all complaine of the fleshe, and yet I see all like Bochers folowe the fleshe: and when it can doe least good, then it is moste gredy. I enuye not the Gods liuing, nor the men that be dead, saue onely for twoo thinges, whiche be these. First I enuy the Gods, because they liue without feare of the malicious. Secondarely I enuie the dead, for that they liue without nede of women. For women are so corrupte, that they corrupte all: and they be suche mortall plagues, that both fleshe and harte by them are brought to ende. O Faustine, the loue of the fleshe is so naturall to the fleshe, that when from you the body flieth in sport, we then leaue our hartes engaged to you in earnest. And though reason as reason putteth desire to flight: yet the flesh, as fleshe, yeldeth it selfe as prysoner.

¶ The Emperour folowyng his matter admonisheth men of the great daun­gers whiche ensue vnto them by excessiue haunting the company of women. And reciteth certaine rules for maried men, which (if they obserue) maye cause them to liue in peace with their wyues. Cap. xvi.

[Page]I Remember that in my youth, as I was of fleshe, I trembled for feare of the fleshe, with mynde neuer to retourne agayne, and I doe confesse that ofte tymes I reuolued in my harte, many holy and chaste meditations: but yet notwithstanding I gaue my body immediatly to sondrie filthy vices. It is a naturall thing, that when man hath committeth any vice, forthwith he repenteth him of his dede: and so againe after his newe repentaunce, he tur­neth to his olde vyces. For during the time that we liue in the house of this frayle fleshe, Sensualitie beareth so great a rule, that she will not suffer rea­son to enter in at the gate. There is no man in Rome, (if a man doeth aske him) but wil marueile to declare with his tongue the thoughtes that he hath had in his hart, in especially to be chaste, to be true, to be pacient, & to be ver­tuous: and peraduenture ye talke with those that somewhat communicate with them, & let a man inquire of his neighbours, they shall finde that he is a deceiuer, a lier, and a blasphemour. Finally, they deceiue men by their faire wordes, & offended the gods by their euil workes. It profiteth litle to blase vertues with wordes, if the hand be negligent to worke them in dede: for a man is not called iust, only desiring to be good in name, but for to labour to be vertuous in workes. The trayterous worlde in no one thinge beguileth worldlings so much, as by feading them with vaine hope, saiyng that they shall haue time enough to be vertuous: so that these blinde men, when they are once depely rooted in vices, & whiles they hope for this light of amende­ment, then sodainly assaulteth thē the dreadful dart of death. Oh how many haue promised vnto men, & vowed vnto the gods, & determined with them selues, that before so many daies they would beginne to be vertuous: whom in short space after we haue sene to engage thē selues to the hūgry wormes of the earth. The gods wil that we be vertuous: & for the cōtrary the world and the fleshe willeth that we be vitious. Me thinketh that it is better to o­bey the gods, then to doe that the world & the fleshe desireth: for the praise of vertue is honour, & the paine of vice is infamie. If thou doest consider Fau­stine, thou shalt see that the gods are on the one parte, which procureth vs to vertues: and on the other part is the world, & the flesh, which inticeth vs vn­to vices. My opinion is we should saye vnto the gods, that we desire to be vertuous, & that we should say to the world & the flesh, that from henceforth we wil geue our selues no more to be vitious. We ought in suche case to sa­tisfie y^e gods with workes, & to enterteine the world, & the flesh with words: that we imploy so much time in leading a good life, that we haue no time vacant to speake an idle worde. I let the wete Faustine, that al that I haue told thee, I haue spoken it against my selfe: for always from my youth I had a good minde, & yet for al that I haue ben ouerthrowen with vices. Oh how many times in my youth I knew womē, I accōpanied with womē, I tal­ked with women, & beleued women, y^t which in the ende haue deceiued me, misused me, & defamed me. At y^e last I withdrew my self & forsoke thē, but I do confesse, y^t if reason kept me frō their houses .x. daies, sensualitie kept me w^t thē .x. wekes. Oh cruel gods, oh wicked world, oh fraile flesh, tel me what it meaneth, that reason leadeth me voluntarely to vertues, & that sensualitie a­gainst my wil draweth me vnto vices? Doest y^u not thinke Faustine, y^t I cō ­sider what a great good it is for to be good, & what an euill it is to be euill? [Page 111] But what shall I doe, wofull man, since at this daye there is not so cruell a scourge of my honoure, nor so great an enemy of my renowme, as myne owne fleshe is,, the which against me doth make such cruell warres. Wher­fore I beseche the immortall gods, sithe my beynge here is against my wyll, that they doe defende me in this so cruell warre. The frayle fleshe is some­what to blame, but muche more is the foolishe and lyght woman in faulte. For if men were certaine that women were chast, shamefaste, and solitary, they would not dispose their hartes, their bodies, nor bende their bowes to shoote at their buttes: they would not consume their time to folowe them, loose their goodes to serue them, neither would they suffer so many shames to sclaunder them. For where the harte hath no hope to obteine, there he wil geue ouer his sute. But what shal we doe now Faustine (I praie thee tel me) since thou knowest better then I, that the shame of the Romaine women is nowe gone, and the women of Italie are so dissolute: that though men doe not regarde them, yet they doe entyse them. If men flie, they call them: If men goe backe, they approche: If men are sadde, they make them mery: If men are silente, they force them to speake: and finally men begynne the loue in sporte, and they temper it in suche sorte, that they tourne it all into earnest. I let thee wete Faustine, that the meanes whereby nature worketh in man is very straunge: but the shame whiche the Gods put in women is more marueilous. And if it be true, (as it is true in dede) that the men doe loose the stynge of the fleshe, and that the women doe not loose the shame of the visage: I thynke it is impossible that there should be a chaste or vertu­ous woman in Rome. For there is no common wealth more vndone, then that where the women haue lost their shame. O women, what reason haue they whiche flie form you, whiche are wery of you, whiche forsake you, whiche forget you, whiche make them selues straungers, and furthermore whiche are dead and buried. For the hungrie wormes gnawe in the graue onely the frayle and slymie fleashe of the dead: but you women destroy the goodes, honoure, and lyfe of the liuing. Oh if the noble hartes knewe what euill doth folowe them, for dallieng with women: I sweare vnto them, that they would not serue them continually as they doe serue them: but al­so they would haue no luste nor desier to beholde them. What wilt thou I saye any more to thee Faustine, but that some scape out of your handes for ef­feminate and sclaundered, others hurte by your tongues, others persecuted with your workes, other deceiued with your countenaunces, others despy­sed through your hatred, others desperate through your inconstancie, others condempned by your light iudgementes, others troubled through your vn­kyndnes, finally those that escape beste, are of your hartes abhorred, and through your folly destroyed. Then since the man knoweth that he muste passe all those daungers, I can not tel what foole he is, that wyll either loue or serue you. For the brute beaste that once hath felte the sharpe teethe of the dogge, wil vnwillingly euer after come nere vnto the stake. Oh vnto what perils doth he offer him selfe, whiche continually doth haunte the company of women. For as much as if he loue them not, they despise him, and take him for a foole. If he doth loue them, they accompt him for light. If he forsake thē they esteme him for no body. If he followe them, he is accompted loste.

[Page]If he serue them, they doe not regarde him. If he doe not serue them, they despyse hym If he wyll haue them, they wyll not. If he will not, they perse­cute him. If he doe aduaunce him selfe forth, they call hym importunate. If he flie, they saye he is a cowarde. If he speake, they saye he is a bragger. If he holde his peace, they saye he is a dissarde. If he laughe, they saye he is a foole. If he laughe not, thei say he is solempne. If he geueth them any thing, they say it is litle worth: & he that geueth them nothing, he is a pinchpurse. Finally he that haunteth them, is by them sclaundered: and he that doth not frequent them, is esteamed lesse then a man. These thinges so sene, so harde, and so knowen, what shall the poore and miserable man doe, inespecially if he be a man of vnderstanding? For though he would absent him selfe from women, the flesh doth not geue him licence: & though he would folow wo­mē, wisedom wyl not condiscende. Some men thinke in al their thoughts, that by seruices and pleasures they may content women. But I let them knowe, if they know it not, that the woman is neuer contented though mā doth what he can as maide, & that he do al that he ought to do as a husbād: though he taketh paines for her sake aboue his force, & though with the swet of his browes he releaueth her neade: though euery houre he putteth him self in daunger, yee in the end she wil geue him no thankes: but will say that he loueth an other, & that he doth but that to please and satisfie her. It is a long time since I desired to tel thee this Faustine, but I haue deferred it vntil this present houre, hoping thou wouldest not geue occasion to tel it thee. For among wise men those wordes ought chiefly to be esteamed, which fittely to the purpose are declared. I remember that it is sixe yeres since Anthonius Pius (thy father) chose me to be his sonne in law, and that thou chosest me for thy husband, & I thee for my wife: all the which thinges were done, my wofull aduentures permitting it, & Adrian my lord commaunding it. The good An­thonius Pius gaue his onely doughter in mariage vnto me, and gaue me like­wyse his noble Empire with great treasures: he gaue me also the gardēs of Vulcanali to passe the time therin. But I thinke that on both sides we were deceiued. He in chosing me for his sonne in lawe, & I in taking thee for my wife. O Faustine, thy father and my father in law was called Anthonius Pius, because to al he was merciful, saue only to me to whom he was most cruel: for with a litle flesh he gaue me many bones. And I confesse the truthe vnto thee, that nowe I haue no more teethe to byte, nor heate in my stomake to digeaste: and the worste of all is, that many tymes I haue thought to rage on my selfe. I wyll tell thee one worde, though it doth displease thee, whiche is, that for thy bewtie thou art desyred of many: and for thy euil conditions thou arte despysed of all. For the fayre women are lyke vnto the golden pylles: the whiche in sighte are very pleasaunte, and in eatinge veray noy­some. Thou knowest well Faustine and I also, that we sawe on a daye Drusio, and Braxille his wife, which were our neighbours, and as they were brauling togethers, I spake vnto Drusio suche wordes: what meaneth this lorde Drusio? that being nowe the feaste of Berecinthia, and being as we are adioyninge to her house, and presente before so honourable assemblie, and furthermore thy wyfe beinge so faire as she is, howe is it possible there shoulde bee any stryfe betweene you? Men which are maried to deformed [Page 112] personnes, to the end that they might kil them quicly, should alwaies fal out with their wiues: but those that are maried to fayer women, they oughte alwayes to liue togethers in ioy and pleasure, to the end they may liue long. For when a fayre woman dyeth, though she haue lyued a hundreth yeres, yer she dyeth to sone: and though a deformed woman lyueth a smal time, yet not withstandyng she dieth to late Drusio as a man being vexed, lifting vp his eyes into the heauens, fetchinge a greuous sighe from the bottome of his hart sayed these wordes. The mother Berecinthia pardon me, and her ho­ly house also, and al the companye besides forgeue me, for by the immortall Gods I swere vnto the, that I had rather haue bene maried with a Moore of Calde that is so foule, then beinge maried as I am, with a Romaine being very faier: for she is not soo faire and white as my life is wofull and blacke. Thou knowest well Faustine that when Drusio spake these wordes, I did wype the teares from his eyes, and I gaue him a worde in his eare that he should procede no further in this matter: for such women ought to be chastened in secrete, and afterwardes to be honoured openly O thou art infortunate Faustine: and the Gods haue euill deuided with the geuing the bewtye and riches to vndoe thy selfe: and denayeng thee the best, whiche is wisedome and good condicions to kepe thy honour, Oh what euyl lucke commeth vnto a man, when God sendeth him a fayer doughter, vnlesse fur­thermore the gods do permyt that she be sage, and honest: for the woman which is yong, folyshe, and faier, distroyeth the common wealth, and defa­meth al her parentage. I say vnto the againe Faustine, that the Gods were very cruel against thee, since they swallowe the vp by the goulfes, wher all the euil perisheth: and toke from the all the sayles and owers, whereby the good do escape. I remained xxxviii. yeres vnmaried, and these vi. yeres on­ly which I haue bene maried, me thinketh I haue passed vi. hundreth yeres of my life: for nothing can be called a tormente, but the euyl that man doth suffer that is euyl maried. I wil ensuer the of one thinge Faustine, that if I had knowen before, which now I know, and that I had felte that whiche now I fele, though the gods had commaunded me and the emperour Adri­an my Lord desired me, I had not chaunged my pouertie for thy riches, nei­ther my rest for thy Empyre: but since it is fallen to thine and myne euyl for­tune, I am contented to speake lytel, and to suffer much. I haue so muche dissembled with the Faustine, that I can no more: but I confesse vnto the, that no husband doth suffer his wife so much, but that he is bound to suffer her more, considering that he is a man & that she is a woman. For the man which willingly goeth into y^e briers, must thinke before to endure y^e prickes. The woman is to bold that doth contend with her husband: but the hus­band is more foole which openly quarrelleth w^t his wife. For if she be good, he ought to fauour her to the end she may be better: if she be vnhappie, he oughte to suffer her to thend she be not worse. Trulye when the woman thinketh that her husband taketh her for euil, it is a great occasion to make her to be worse: for women are so ambitious, that those which comonly are euyl, wil make vs beleue y^t they are better then others. Beleue me Faustine, that if the feare of the gods, the infamy of the person, and the speach of men do not refraine y^e woman, al the chastisements of y^e world wil not make her [Page] refraine from vyce: for all things suffereth chastisemente and correction, the woman only except, the which must be wonne by intreaty. The hart of the man is very noble, and that of the woman very delycate: bycause for a lytle good he wil geue a great reward, and for a great offence he wil geue no pu­nishment. Before the wise man marieth, let him beware what he doth: and when he shall determine to take the companye of a woman, he ought to be lyke vnto him that entereth into the warre, that determineth with himselfe to suffer al that may happen, be it good or euil. I do not cal that life a warre without a cause, which the euyll maried man leadeth in his house: for wo­men do more hurt with their tongues, then the enemyes do with their swordes. It is a great simplycitie for a wise man to make accompt, or esteme the simplycitie of his wife at euery time: for if they would marke, and take hede to that which their wife doth, or sayth, I let them know that they shal neuer come to an ende. O Faustine, if the Romaine woman would alwayes one thing, that they would procure one thing, that they would be resolued in one thing, though it were to our great charges we would haue pleasure to con­discend vnto their desires: but what shal we do, sinse y^t which now pleaseth you, a while after dipleaseth you, y^t which you aske for in the morning, ye wil not haue at none, that which you enioye at none days, do trouble you in the night, that which in the night you loue, ye care not for in the morninge, that which yesterday ye greatly estemed, to day ye asmuch despise. If ye desired to see a thing the last yeare, this yere ye wil not heare talke of it, that which before made you to reioyce, doth nowe make you to be sad, that which ye were wont and ought to lament, at the selfe same thinge a man seeth you laughe. Finally ye women are as children, which are appeased with an aple, and casteth the golde to the earthe not wayeng it. I haue dyuers times thought with my selfe, if I could say or write any good rule, in keping the which, I might teach men to be quiet in their house. And by my counte I find (hauing experimented it also with the Faustine) that it is vnpossible to geue a rule to maried men: and if a man could geue them, they should scarce­ly profite therwith, sinse their wiues lyue without rule. But notwithstan­ding that, I wil declare some rules how the maried folkes shold kepe them­selues in their houses: and how they shall (if they lyst) auoide strifes and de­bates betwene them. For the husbandes and the wiues hauyng warres to­gether, it is impossible there should be peace in the common wealth. And thoughe this present writynge hath not profited me, vnluckey and vnfortu­nate man: yet it may profite others which haue good wyues. For oft times the medycen whiche profiteth not for the tender eyes, suffiseth to heale the hard heales. I know wel Faustine, that for that I haue sayd, and for that I wil say vnto the, thou and others such like shall greatly enuye me. Ye will marke the words that I speake, more then the intencion that I meane: but I protest before the Gods, that in this case my end is for none other intent, but to aduertise the good, wherof there are a great manye: and to punyshe the euyl, whych are many moe. And though perchaunce neyther the one nor the other wil beleue, that my intencion in speaking these thinges was good: yet therfore I wyl not cease to know the good from the euyl, and to choose the euil from the good. For in my fantasy the good wife is as the feasaunt, [Page 113] whose feathers we lytle esteame, and regard much the bodye: but the euyll woman is as the Marterne, whose skynne we greatly esteme, and vtterly despise the fleshe. I wil therfore declare the rules wherby the husbands may liue in peace with their owne proper wyues.

¶ The Emperour aunswereth more particularlye concernyng the Key of his studye. Cap. xvii.

NOw Faustine, since I haue the old venym from my hart expelled, I wil aunswere to thy present demaund: for vnto demaundes & aunswers that passeth betwene the sages, y^e tongue ought neuer to speake word, but that first he aske the hart lycence. And it is a general rule amongest the phisicians, that the medicens do not profite the sicke, vnlesse they first take a­way the opilacions of the stomacke. I meane by this, that no mā can speake to his frend (as he ought) vnlesse before he sheweth what thing greueth him: for it is better to repaier the roufes of the houses that be olde, then to go a­bout to build them new.

Thou requirest me Faustine that I geue thee the Keye of my studye, and thou doest threaten me that if I geue it not vnto the, that thou shalt forth­with be deliuered. I marueile not at that thou sayest, neyther I am abashed of that thou demaundest, nor yet of that that thou wouldest do: for you women are very extreame in your desires, very suspicious in your demaundes, [Page 114] very obstinate in your willes, and as vnpacient in your sufferinges. I say not without a cause that women are extreame in their desires: for the [...]e are thinges wherof women are so desirous, that it is wonder though neuer ly­uing creature saw them, nor hard speake of them. I haue not sayd without a cause that women are suspicious in their demaunds: for the Romaine women are of such a condicion, that assone as a woman desireth any thing, she forthwith commaundeth the tongue to aske it, the feete to seke it, the eyes to se it, the hands to fele it, and likewise the hart to loue it. I say not without a cause that women are obstinate in their willes: for if a Romaine woman beareth any malyce to any man, she wil not forbeare to accuse him for anye slaunder, nor faile to pursue him for any pouerty, nor feare to kil him for any Iustice. I say not without a cause that women are vnpacient to suffer: for many are of such condicion (I say not al) that if a man giue not spedely that whiche they desire, they chaunge their coullour, their eyes looke read, their tongues runne quycke, their voyces are sharpe, they frete with them selues, they trouble their neighbours abroade, and are so out of order that no man dare speake vnto them within. You haue this good trade among ye womē that vnder coullour of being with child, you wil that we husbands graunt ye al your desires. When the sacred senate, in the time of the valyaunt Camil­lus, made a law in the fauour of the Romaine Matrones with child, the women at that time longed not so much as they do at this present: but I can not tel what this presently meaneth, that al ye are annoynted with that that is good, & that ye are all desirous of that that is euyl. I wil tel the (Faustine) the occasiō why this law was made in Rome, & therby thou shalt se if thou deseruest to enioy the priuyledge therof or no: For the lawes are but as yo­kes vnder the which the euyl doth labour, and they are winges wherwith the good doth flye. The case therof was such, that Camillus the valyaunt cap­taine went forth to the warres, he made a solempne vow to the mother Be­recinthia, that if the gods gaue him the vyctorie, he would offer vnto her an Image of siluer: and after Camillus wanne the victory, & that he would haue accomplished his vow to y^e mother Berecinthia: nother he had any riches, nor Rome had any siluer. For at that time, Rome was rich of vertues, and poore of money. And know thou Faustine, that our aunciēt fathers were deuout towards the gods, & curious in repairing the temples, the which they estemed to be great deuocions: & they were in such sort obserued of their vowes, that neither for slouth, nor pouerty, they would obmitte their promises towards their gods. And in these things they were so precise, that they graunted to no man any triumphe, onlesse he did sweare that he had vnto the gods made a vow, & afterward also proued how he performed it.

At that time florished in Rome manye vertuous Romaynes, and ma­nye greeke phylosophers, manye hardye Captaynes, and manye sumptu­ous buildinges: and aboue all thinges, Rome was vnpeopeled of malyces, and adorned with vertuous Ladies. The Historiographers made (and not withoute a cause) greate accompte of these vertuous matrones: For the commonne wealthe hathe as muche neade of vertuous women, as the warres haue of valyaunte Captaynes. They beynge therefore (as they weare) soo vertuous and noble Matrones (without the motion of anye [Page] woman) determined all to go into the high Capitoll, & ther to offer al their Ieuelles and treasours that they had, their cheynes, their ringes, their gar­mentes, their bracelettes, their girdels, their buttons, and hangers of golde, of siluer, and precious stones of all sortes with al their tablettes. The Anna­les of this time say, that after the Romaine women had layed so greate a multitude of riches, at the feete of the sacret senate, in the name of them all one of them spake, whose name was called Lucina, & said in this sort. Fathers cōscript, esteme not much these our Iewelles, which we geue you to make y^e ymage of the mother Berecinthia: but esteme much this, that we willynglye put in ieopardye our husbandes, and children, to win you the vyctory. And if in this case you accept our poore seruyce, haue no respect to the lytel which we do offer: but to the great which (if we were able) we would giue. Truly y^e Romains, though the treasure which their wiues offered was great: Yet notwithstāding they did more esteme the good wil wherwith they gaue it, then they did the giftes them selues. For ther was so much in dede, that suf­ficed both to make the ymage of the goddesse Berecinthia, and also for a long time to maintaine the warres. Therfore from that day that those matrones presented their Iewelles in the highe Capitoll, the senate foorthwith in re­membraunce of the gentlenes, graunted them these fiue thinges as a priuy­ledge: For at that time Rome neuer receyued seruice, or benefyt of any per­son, but she rewarded it with double payment.

The first thing that the senate graunted the Romaine women was, that in the day of their burial, the Oratours might openly make oracions in the praise of their lyues: For in old time men vsed neyther to exalt theym when they were dead, nor yet to accompany them to their graues.

The second thing that was graunted them was, that they might syt in the temples: for in the old time when the Romaynes did offer sacrifices to their gods, the aged did alwayes syt, the priestes kneele, the maried men did leane, but the women, though they were of noble and high linage, could nei­ther be suffered to talke, sit nor to leane.

The third thing that the senate graunted the women of Rome was, that euery one of them might haue .ii. rich gownes, and that they should not aske the Senate leue to weare them: for in the olde time if any women were apparelled, or did bye any newe gowne withoute askinge licence of the Senate, shee shoulde immedyatlye loose her Gowne, and bycause her husbande did condiscende vnto the same, he was bannyshed the common wealthe.

The fourth thing which they graunted them was, that they shold drinke wine when they were sicke: for there was in Rome a custome inuyolable, that thoughe their lyfe was in hazard, they durst not drinke wine but wa­ter. For when Rome was wel corrected, a woman that druncke wine was asmuch slaundered among the people: as if she had committed adulterye to­wardes her husband.

The fift thing graunted by the senate vnto the women was, that a man might not denay a Romaine being with chyld, any honest and lawful thing that she demaunded. I cannot tell why the auncientes of Rome esteamed more women with child, then others that had no children.

[Page 115]Al these fiue things were iustly graunted to the Matrones, and noble Ro­maine Ladyes. And I can tel the Faustine, that they were of the Senate most willingly graunted. For it is reason that women which in vertues do excell, should with all meanes be honoured. I wil tel the Faustine the especi­all cause that moued the Romaynes to graunte vnto you Matrones this last pryuyledge: that is to wete, that a man cannot denay them any thinge being with child. Thou oughtest to know, that the others (aswel Grekes as Latynes) did neuer giue lawes, nor institutions vnto their people, without great occasions: For the great multitude of lawes are comonly euill kept, and on the other part are cause of sondrye troubles. We cannot denaye but that the auncientes did wel auoyde the great nomber of institucions: For it is better for a man to lyue as reason commaundeth him, then as the lawe constrayneth him. The case therfore was, that in the yere of the foundacion of Rome .364. Fuluius Torquatus then being Consul, in the warre againste the Volces, the knightes of Mauritania broughte to Rome an huge monster with one eye, called Monoculus: which he had found in the desertes of Egipt. At that time the wife of Torquatus called Macrina, shold haue bene deliuered of child: for the Consul did leaue her great. This Macrina amongest al was so honest, y^t they spent as much time in Rome to prayse her for her vertues: as they did set forth her husband for his victories. They rede in the Annalles of that time that the first time that this Consul Torquatus went into Asia, he was eleuen yeres out of his countrey, and it is found for a truth, that in al the time that Torquatus was absente, his wife was neuer sene loke out at the windowe, whiche was not a thinge smally estemed: for though it was a custome in Rome to kepe the dore shut, it was lawfull notwithstandinge to speake to women at the windowes. Though men at that time were not so bold, & the women were so honest: yet Macrina, wife to Torquatus, lyued so close and soli­tary to her selfe, that in all these 11. yeres ther was neuer man that saw her go through Rome, nor that euer saw her dore open, neither that she consen­ted at any time (from the time that she was viii. yeres of age) that any man should enter into her house: & more ouer, ther was neuer man saw her face wholy vncouered. This Romaine Lady did this, to leaue of her a memory: & to giue example of her vertue. She had also iii. children, whereof the eldest was but v. yeres old: and so when they were viii. yeres of age, immediatlye she sent them out of her house towards their parentes, lest vnder the coul­lour to vysite the children, others should come to visite her. O Faustine, howe many haue I hard that haue lamented this excellent Romaine: and what wil they thinke that shal folow her life, Who could presently restraigne a Romaine woman from going to the window .11. yeres, since thinges nowe a daies are so dissolute, that they do not only desire to se them, but also runne in the streates to bable of them? Who should cause now a dayes a Romaine woman, that in the 11. yeres she should not open her dores, since it is so, that when the husband commaunded her to shut one dore, she wil make the hole house to ringe of her voyce? He that now would commaund his wife to ta­ry at home, and let her of her vagaries into the towne, shal perceiue that ther is no Basilie nor Viper that carrieth suche poison in her tayle, as she wil spitt with her tongue. Who could make a Romaine women to be 11. yeres con­tinually [Page] without shewing her face to any man: since it is so that they spend the most part of their time in loking in a glasse, setting their ruffes, brushing their clothes, and painting their faces? who would cause a Romaine womā to kepe her selfe, xi yeres from being vysited of her neighbours, and frends, since it is true that now women thinke them greatest enemyes, whych vy­site them most seldom? Retournyng therfore to the monstre, as they led this monstre before the doore of Torquatus house, she being great wyth child, & her husbande in the warre: by chaunce a maide of his tolde her how that this monstre passed by, wherfore so great a desire toke her to see the monstre that for to kepe that she had begon, sodeinly for this desier she dyed. Truly I tel the Faustine, that this monstre had passed many times by the streat wher she dwelt, & she would neuer notwithstandyng go to the window: and muche lesse go out of her doore to see it. The death of this Romaine of many was lamented: for it was a long time that Rome had neuer heard of so honest & vertuous a Romaine wherfor at the peticion of al the Romayne people, and by the commaundement of al the sacred senate, they set on he [...] tombe these verses.

BEhold therfore Faustine, in my opinyon, the law was not made to reme­dye the death of this noble Romayne, since she was alredy dead: but to the end that you Princesses shoulde take example of her lyfe, and that through al Rome ther should be a memorye of her death. It is reason, synce the law was ordeyned for those women which are honest, that it should be obserued in none, but vppon those that are vertuous: let the women with chyld marke the words of the law, which commaund them to aske things honest. Wherfore I let the know Faustine, that in the seuenth table of our la­wes are wryten these wordes. We wil that wher ther is corruption of man­ners, the man shal not be bound to obserue their liberties.

¶That princesses and noble women ought not to be ashamed to giue their children sucke with their owne breastes. Cap. xviii.

AL noble men, that are of hault courages, watch continually to bringe that to effect which they couet, and to kepe that which they haue: For by strength one commeth to honour, and by wisedom, honor, & life, are both preserued. By these wordes I meane, that she that hath borne .9. mone­thes (through trauaile) the creature in her wombe with so much paine & that afterwards is delyuered with so greate perill, & by the grace of god from so many daungers escaped, me thinke it is not wel that in this point (which for the norishment of the babe is most expedient) the mothers should shew them so negligent. For that wanteth no foly, that by extreame labour is procured, and with much lightnes afterward despised. The thinges that women na­turaly desire are infinite, among the whych, these are foure cheafely.

The first thing that women desire, is to be very faire: For they had rather [Page 116] be poore and faire, then to be riche and foule.

The second thing which they desire, is to se them selues maried: for vntill such time as the woman doth see her selfe maried, from the bottome of the hart she alwayes sigheth.

The third thing that women desire, is to se them selues great with child, & herein they haue reason. For vntil such time as the woman hath had a child, it semeth that she taketh him more for a louer then for a husband.

The fourth thing that they desire, is to se them selues deliuered, and in this case more then all the rest they haue reason: For it is greate pitie to see in the pryme time a yong tre loden with blosomes: and afterward the fruite to be destroyed throughe the abondaunce of caterpillers. Then since god suffereth that they are borne faire, that they se them selues maried, that they be with child, and that they are deliuered: why be they so vnkind, as to send them out of their houses, to be nourished in other rude cotages? In my opinion the womā that is vertuous, ought assone as she is deliuered, to lift vp her eyes, and with her hart to giue god thankes for her frute: For the woman that from her deliuerie is escaped, ought to accompt her selfe as one newly borne. The woman likewise seing her selfe deliuered of her creature, ought to geue it sucke with her owne breastes, for it is a monsterous thinge, that she that hath brought forth the creature out of her owne proper wombe, should geue it to be nourished, of a straunge dugge, In speaking more plainly (it is al one to me whether she be a noble woman, or a woman of meane condicion) I say & affirme, that god hath deliuered her of al her trauaile, she her self ought with her owne pappes to nourish and geue sucke to their babes: for nature did not only make women able to beare men, but also besides that prouided milke in their breastes, to nourishe their children. We haue neither redde vn­til this present, nor sene, that any beastes (wild or tame) after they had yong, would commit them to any other to be nourished. This which I haue spo­ken is not so worthy of noting, as that which I will speake. And it is, that many beastes new borne, before they open their eyes to know their fathers, haue now all ready taken nourishmēt in the teates of their mothers: & more then that, to se some of those litle beastes haue .x. litle whealpes, the which without y^e aide of any others nourished them al with the substaunce of their owne teares, & the womā that hath but one child disdaineth to giue it sucke. Al that shal read this writing shal find it true, & if they wil, they may se as I haue sene it by experience: y^t after the she Ape hath had her yonglings, she al­waies hath them in her armes so long as they sucke, so y^t oftentimes ther is such strife betwene the male, & the female, which of them shal haue the yonglings in their armes, that the beholders are enforced to part them with bat­tes. Let vs leaue the beasts that are in the fields, & talke of the byrdes that are in y^e neasts: the which do lay egges to haue yong, yet haue they no milke to bring them vp. What thing is so straung to se, as a smal bird that hath vn­der her winges v. or vi. litle naked byrds, the which when she hath hached, she hath neither milke to nourish them, nor corne to giue them, they haue nei­ther wings to fly, fethers to couer them, nor any other thing to defend them: yet in al this weaknes & pouertie their mother forsaketh them not, nor com­mitteth them to any other but bringeth them vp al her selfe. That which na­ture [Page] prouided for the swannes is no lesse marueilous, in especiallye when they nourishe their yong signettes in the water: Forasmuch as duringe the time that they can not swimme, the mothers alwayes in the day are w^t thier yong signetts in their neastes, and in the night the fathers carie them vnder their proper winges (to refresh theym) vnto the water: It is therfore to be thought, since these swannes so louyngly beare their yonglings vnder their wings, that they would cary them in their armes if they were men, and also giue them sucke with their owne breasts if they were women Aristotle sayth in his fift booke De animalibus, that the lyons, the beares, the wolues, the Ea­gles, y^e griffins, & generally al beasts, neuer are, wer, nor shal be sene so fierce nor so cruel, as when they haue yonglings, and this thing semeth to be true: for at that time, we se that many beasts might escape the hunters, yet to saue their yonglings they turne backe & put their proper lyues in daunger. Plato sayth in his booke of lawes, that the childrē are neuer so welbeloued of their mothers, as when they are nourished wyth their proper breasts, & that their fathers daunceth them of their knees. The whych thing is true: for the fyrst loue, in al things is the truest loue. I was willyng to shew the bringing vp of brute beasts, to shew the women with chyld, how pitieful parents they are in nourishing their yonglings with their owne breasts: & how cruel mo­thers women are, in committing their childrē to straungers. It is a meruai­lous thyng to here the mothers say that they loue their children, & on the cō ­trary side to se how they hate them. In this case, I cannot tel whether they loue more, eyther the child, or the money: for I se that they couet greatlye to hourd vp riches into their cheastes, and likewise they desyre asmuch to cast out theyr children out of theyr houses. Ther are dyuerse reasons wherby the mothers oughte to be moued to norishe their children (which they bare in their wombes) wyth their owne propre breastes.

The first reasō is, that the mother ought to haue respect how y^e yong babe was borne alone, how litle he was, how poore, dilicate, naked, tender, & with­out vnderstanding: and since that the mother brought it forth so weake, & feable, it is neither mete nor conueniēt that in time of such necessitie she shold forsake it, & commit it into the hands of a straung nourse. Let women par­don me, whether they be ladyes, brought vp in pleasures, or other of meaner estate, accustomed with trauelles, I force not: but I saye, that those which forsake their children in such extremeties, are not pitiful mothers but cruel e­nemies. If it be crueltie not to cloth him that is naked, who is more naked then the child new borne? if it be cruelty not to comfort the sad, who is more sad, desolate, and sorowful, then the child which is borne weping? if it be vn­gentlenes not to succoure the poore nedy, who is more neady, or more poore then the innocent child newly borne, that knoweth not as yet neyther to go, nor to speake? If it be crueltie to doo euil to the innocent that cannot speake, who is more innocent then the infant, that can not complaine of that whiche is done vnto him? The mother that casteth oute of her house the children borne of her owne bodye, howe can we beleue that she will receiue in any other of straungers? when the infante is nowe greate, when he is stronge, when he can speake, when hee can goo, when hee canne profitte him selfe, and get his meate, the mother maketh much of hym, and leadeth [Page 117] him about with her, but is lytle thanke vnto her: For then the mother hath more neade of the child to be serued, then the child hath of the mother to be cherished: If the children were borne of the nayles, of the fingers, of the fete, or of the hands, it were a smal mater though their mothers sent them forth to noryshe: but I cannot tell what hart can endure to suffer this, since the child is borne of their propre intrayles, that they do commit it (to be brought vp) into the handes of a straunger. Is there paraduenture at this day in the world any Ladye, that hath so great confidence in any of her frendes, pa­rents, or neighbours, that she durst trust any of them with the key of her co­fer, wherin her Iewelles, money, & riches lyeth? truly I thinke none. O vn­kind mothers, my penne had almost called you cruel stepmothers, since you lay vp in your hart the cursed mou [...]ke of the ground, and sende out of your houses that which sprang of your bloud. And if women shold say vnto me y^t they are weake, feable, & tender, & that now they haue found a good nourse, to this I aunswere: that y^e nourse hath smal loue to y^e child which she nouri­sheth, when she seeth the vngentlenes of the mother y^t bare it. For truly she alone doth norishe y^e child with loue, that heretofore hath borne it with paine.

The second reason is, that it is a thing very iust that women should nou­rishe their children, to the end they may be lyke vnto their conditions: For o­therwise they are no children, but are enemyes: for the child that doth not re­uerence his mother that bare him, can not enioye a prosperous life, Synce the intention of the parentes in bringing vp their children is for none other purpose, but to be serued of them when they are old: they shal vnderstande, that for this purpose ther is nothing more necessary, then the milke of the proper mother: for wher the child sucketh the milke of a straunger, it is vnlike­ly that it should haue the condicions of the mother. If a kidde sucke a shepe, they shal perceiue it shal haue the wolle more faire, & the nature more gentle, then if he had sucked a Goate, which hath y^e wolle more hard, & of nature is more wild: wherin y^e prouerbe is verefied, not from whence thou commest, but wherof thou feedest. It auayleth a man much to haue a good inclinaci­on: but it helpeth him much more from his infancye to be wel taught. For in the end we profite more, with the customes wherwith we lyue, then we do by nature from whence we came.

The third reason is, that women ought to nourish their owne children, be­cause they shold be hole mothers, & not vnperfect: for the woman is counted but halfe a mother that beareth it, & likewise halfe a mother that nourisheth it: but she is the hole mother, that both beareth it, & nourisheth it. After the duetie considered vnto the father that hath created vs, & vnto the sonne that hath redeamed vs, me thinketh next we owe y^e greatest duty vnto y^e mother, that hath borne vs in her body: and much more it is that we should beare vn­to her, if she had nourished vs with her owne breastes. For when the good child shall behold his mother, he ought more to loue her bycause she nouri­shed hym wyth her mylke: thenne bycause she hath borne hym in her body.

¶The Aucthour stil perswadeth women to giue their owne children sucke. Cap. xix.

IN the yere of the foundacion of Rome fiue hundred & two, After the obsti­nate & cruel warre betwene Rome & Carthage, where the renowmed cap­taines [Page] wer Hannibal for the Carthagians & Scipio for the Romaines: sone af­ter that warre followed the warre of Macedonie against kinge Philip, The which when it was ended, that of Siria began against Antiochus king of Siria. For in .630 yeres the Romanes had alwaies continuall warres in Asia, in Affricke, or in Europe. The noble Romanes sent the consul Cornelius Scipio (bro­ther to the great Scipio y^e Affrican) for captaine of that warre. And after ma­ny battayles, fortune shewed her force in a Citie called Sepila, the which is in Asia the great, where king Antiochus was ouercome, and all his realme dis­comfited: for trees that haue their rootes plucked vppe, must nedes within short time lose their fruites. After that kinge Antiochus was ouercome & his land spoiled, Cornelius Scipio came vnto Rome triumphinge, for the victorie y^t he had of Asia: so that as his brother (for the victorie that he had of Affrica) was called Affricane, so he was called Scipio the Asian, because he vanquished Asia. The captaines of Rome loued honour so much, that they would no o­ther reward, nor recompence of their trauaile, but y^t they shoulde geue them the renowme of the realme which they had ouercome. Truly they had rea­son, for the noble hartes ought lytle to esteme the increase of their riches, & ought greatly to esteme the perpetuite of their good name. As Sextus Chero­nensis saithe in his third booke De ambigua iusticia, that Cornelius Scipio had a long time the gouerment of the people, forasmuch as he was consul, censour, and Dictatour of Rome: for he was not onely hardy and couragious, but also he was sage and wise, which thinge ought greatly to be esteamed in a man. For Aristotle doth not determine it, which of these two is most excellēt: eyther stoutnes to fight in y^e warres, or policye to rule in peace. Scipio ther­fore being Dictatour (which was an office then as the Emperour is now) it chaunced that the x. captaines which had bene with him in the warres, vio­lently fought to haue entred into the Monastery of the virgines vestalles: wherfore the Dictatour commaunded their heades to be cut of. For the Ro­maines punished more cruelly those, that only required the virgins vestalls: then those that forced the maried matrones. Cornelius Scipio was besought of many in Rome, y^t he would moderate & chaunge his so cruel sentence. And he which most in this case did importune him, was his brother Scipio the Affri­can whose praier was not accepted: how be it in the end they sayde the cap­taines, wer pardoned, by the request of a sister of the said Dictatour Scipio y^e Affrican. And bycause he blamed his brother Scipio, that he had done more for the doughter of his nourse: then for the sonne of his proper mother, he aunswered. I let the wete brother, that I take her more for my mother that brought me vp, and did not beare me: then she which hath borne me, and in my infancye hath forsaken me. And since I haue had her for my true mo­ther, it is but reasonne that I haue thys for my deare and welbeloued sister. These were the woordes which passed betwene these two brethren. I haue diligently red in holy, and prophane wrytinges, that many tiraun­tes haue caused their owne mothers to be killed whiche bare them: but I could neuer find that they haue done any discurtesye or disobedience, to the nourses whyche gaue them milke. For the cruell tirauntes doo thirste af­ter the bloude of others: but they feare theym whose milke they sucke,

The fourthe reasonne that byndethe womenne to nourishe their chil­dren [Page 118] is, to kepe them in more obedience: for if the fathers liue long time, they must of force come into the handes of their children. And let not olde fa­thers make their accompts, saying that during the time that they shall haue the gouernement of the house, their children shalbe kepte in obedience: for in so doing they might abuse them selues. For yong men in their youth, fele not the trauayles of this life: nor knowe not as yet, what it meaneth to make prouision for householde. For to the stomacke that is ful, and cloyed with ea­ting, al meates seameth both vnsauery and noysome. It maye wel be, that since the childrē are not nourished in the house, that they know not their ser­uauntes, that they loue not their parentes, that they come not nere their bre­thren, nor talke with their sisters, that they are ignoraunt of their fathers, & do disobey their mothers: wherfore since litle feare doeth abounde, and good wyl fayle, one daye they commit some mischeauous offence, whereby they doe loose their life worthely, and the fathers loose the riches, and likewyse their honour deseruedly, to the intent that the fathers alwayes keape their proper chyldren vnder obedience, there is no better meane then to bring them vp in their owne houses, the mother to geue them sucke, and the father to teache them: for when the mother desireth any thing of her chylde, she should not shewe him the belly from whence he came, but the dugges which he did sucke. For all that whiche is asked vs by the milke that we did sucke, truly there is no harte so hard that can denay her. The historiographers say that Antipater among all the Gretians, was the most renowmed tyraunt: and a­mong the Romaines Nero. And these two wicked princes wer not great ty­rauntes because they had committed many tyrannies: but because they did committe one, which was most greuous of all others. For they doe not call a man a glutton, or cormoraunt, because he eateth euery houre, but because he deuoureth more at one paste, then others doe in one daye. The case was, that Antipater in Grece, and Nero in Rome, determined to kyll their own mo­thers. And the historiographers saye, that when Nero commaunded his mo­ther to be killed, she sent to aske of him why he would put her to death: wher vnto he answered, that he was cloyed to beholde the armes wherin he was nourished, and therfore he caused her to be killed, to see the intrailes out of the which he came. This case was so horrible, that it semed to many not to speake it: but concluding I say, as vniustly as the mothers loste the mortall life: so iustly did the children get for them immortal imfamy. Nothing can be more wicked & detestable to the children, then to kil their mothers which did beare them with paine, & did nourish them with loue: but notwithstāding al this, we do not rede that euer they did kill, dishonoure, nor yet disobey their nourses, which gaue them milke. Iunius Rusticus, in the fifte booke of the bryn­ging vp of childrē saith, that y^e two Gracchi (renowmed & famous Romains) had a third brother being a bastarde, who shewed him self as valiaunt & har­dy in the warres of Asia: as the other twoo did in the warres of Africa. The which as he came one day to rome to visite his house, he foūd therin his mo­ther which bare him, & the nourse which gaue him suck. To y^t which nourse he gaue a girdle of gold, & to his own mother he gaue a iewel of siluer. Of y^e which things y^e mother being ashamed, cōsidring what her son had done, she asked him why he had geuē y^e norse y^e gold, which did but only geue him suck [Page] and that he had not geuen the gyrdle of golde to her, as well as the Iewell of siluer, since she had borne him, and brought him into the world. Wherun­to he aunswered in this maner, maruell not thereat mother why I doe this thing, for thou diddest beare me but nyne monethes in thy wombe, and she hath geuen me sucke and nourished me these three yeres with her own pro­pre pappes: and when thou diddest cast me from thee out of thy sight, she re­ceiued me and nourished me in her propre armes.

Fifthly, women ought to enforce them selues to nourishe their children, to the ende they may kepe them the better, and that in their cradels they be not chaunged for others. Aristotle saieth, that the Cocowe commeth to the neaste of another birde when she hath laide her egges, & sucketh them, and layeth in the same place her own egges: so that the other birde thinking that they are her owne, hatchieth and nourisheth them vp as her owne, vn­till suche tyme as they are able to flie. Then the Cocow killeth, and eateth the sily birde that hath nourished her, through the which occasion the males of those birdes, are at so great contention (that they haue bene so deceiued) that the one of them killeth the other the whiche they might let, if euery bird did nourishe her owne. In the same tyme that Philip reigned in Macedonia, (whiche was the father of the great Alexander) Arthebanus was kynge of the Epirotes, who in his age had a childe borne, the whiche was stollen out of the cradell, and an other put in his steade. The nourse whiche did nourishe it, through couetousnes of money consented to that treason: for the harte that is with couetousnes ouercome, wyll not feare to committe any treason. It chaunced not long after that kyng Arthebanus died, and lefte (as he thought) his own sonne for his heire: but within fewe dayes after the nourse her self, whiche had consented vnto the robbery, discouered the thefte, and sayd that she could tell where the lawfull childe of the good kyng Arthebanus was, and that that childe whiche nowe was heire, was but the sonne of a meane knight: but in dede it had bene better for those of the miserable realme, that the woman had neuer discouered the secrete. For it chaunceth oftetimes that a man maketh suche haste of his horse, that he hurteth his legge, & through that occasion afterwardes falleth and breaketh his necke. But what shal we saye to the Plebeical women, of base and meane estate (I doe not meane the noble, gentle, and vertuous ladies) whereof they are many, that though in great secrete their chiefest friende telleth them any thinge, yet before they drinke they will vtter it to another. Thus when the treason was discouered, cruel warres betwene these two princes began: so that in the end, in a great battayle they were both slayne, the one in defending, and the other in assaul­ting. At that tyme Olimpias reigned, who was the faire and worthy wyfe of Philip, and mother of Alexander. She had a brother named Alexander, who was both politique, and hardie, and hearing the Epirotes were in controuer­sie, and that twoo kinges were slaine in the fielde, he placed him selfe in the Realme, more of will, then of right. And let no man marueile, that this kyng occupied the Realme: for in the olde time, all the tyrannous princes thought that all that whiche they could obtaine without resistaunce: did vnto them belonge by iustice. This king Alexander was he, whiche came into Italy in the fauoure of the Tarentines, when they rebelled against the Romaines: who [Page 119] afterwarde was slaine in battaile at Capua, where his body was vnburied. And truly it was a iuste sentence, that the tyraunt which bereueth many of their liues, should him selfe taste some shamefull death. I haue declared this history to this ende, that princesses and great ladies should see, that if the wyfe of kyng Arthebanus had nourished his sonne, they coulde not haue rob­bed it in the cradell, nor these twoo princes had not bene slayne in battayle, nor the common wealth had not bene destroied, nor Alexander had not en­tred into the lande of another, nor had not come to conquere the contrey of Italy, nor the dead corps had not wanted his graue: for oftetimes it chaun­ceth, for not quenching a litle coale of fier, a whole forest & house is burned. The deuine Plato among the Grekes, and Licurgus among the Lacedemonians, commaunded and ordeined in all their lawes, that al the Plebeical women, & those of meane estate, should nourishe al their children, and that those which were princesses and great ladies, should at the least nourishe their eldest and first begotten. Plutarche in the booke of the reigne of princes saieth, that the sixt kyng of the Lacedemonians was Thomistes, the whiche when he died lefte two children, of which the second inherited the realme, because the Quene her selfe had brought it vp: and the first did not inherite, because a straūge nource had geuen it sucke, and brought it vp. And hereof remained a custome in the moste parte of the realmes of Asia, that the childe whiche was not nourys­shed with the pappes of his mother, shoulde inherite none of his mothers goodes. There was neuer, nor neuer shalbe a mother that had suche a sonne as the mother of God, which had Iesus Christe: nor there was neuer, nor neuer shalbe a sonne, which had suche a mother in the worlde. But the infante would neuer sucke other milke, because he would not be bounde to call any other mother, nor the mother did geue him to nourish to any other mother, because that no other woman should call him sonne. I doe not marueile at al, that princesses and great ladies doe geue their children forth to nourishe: but that which moste I marueile at is, that she whiche hath conceiued and brought forth a child, is a shamed to geue it sucke and to nourishe it. I sup­pose that the ladies doe thinke, that they deserue to conceiue them in their wombes, and that they sinne in nourishing them in their armes. I can not tell how to wryte, and much lesse howe to vtter that which I would say: which is, that women are now a daies come into such folly: that they thinke and esteme it a state, to haue in their armes some litle dogges: & they are a­shamed to nourish & geue the childrē sucke with their own breastes. O cruel mothers, I cannot thinke that your hartes can be so stony, to endure to see and keape fantasticall birdes in the cages, vnhappy Monkeis in the wyn­dowes, fisting spaniels betwene your armes, and so neglect and despise the swete babes, casting them out of your houses where they were borne, and to put them into a straunge place where they are vnknowen? It is a thing which cannot be in nature, neither that honestie can endure, conscience per­mit, nor yet consonant either to deuine or humaine lawes, that those which God hath made mothers of children, shoulde make them selues nourses of dogs. Iunius Rusticus in the third booke of the sayings of the auncientes saith, that Marcus Porcio whose life and doctrine, was a lanterne and example to al the Romain people, as a man much offended, saied on a day to the senate. [Page] O fathers conscripte, O cursed Rome, I can not tell what nowe I shoulde saye, sithe I haue sene in Rome suche monsterous thinges (that is to wete) to see women cary Parrottes on their fistes, and to see women to nourishe dogges, geuing them mylke from their owne breastes. They replied in the senate and sayde. Tell vs Marcus Porcio what wouldest thou we should doe whiche lyue nowe, to resemble our fathers whiche are dead? Marcus Portio aunswered them. The woman that presumeth to be a Romaine Matrone, ought to be founde weauing in her house, and out of that to be found in the temple praying to God: and the noble and stoute Romane, ought to be foūd in his house reding bookes, and out of his house, fighting in the playn fielde for the honour of his countrie. And suer these were wordes worthy of suche a man: Annius Minutius was a noble Romaine, and captaine of great Pom­peius, who was a great friende to Iulius Caesar after the battaile of Farsaliae: for he was an auncient, and on that could geue good councell, wherefore he ne­uer scaped, but that he was chosen in Rome for Senatour, Consul, or Cen­sor euery yeare, for Iulius Caesar was so mercifull to them that he pardoned, that those whiche had bene his moste enemies in the warres, were of hym in peace best beloued. This Annius Minutius then beinge chosen Censor within Rome (which was an office hauing charge of iustice) by chaunce as he went to visite the wyfe of an other frende of his, the whiche laye in child bedde, (because she had great aboundaunce of mylke) he founde that a litle pretie bitche did sucke her, vpon the whiche occasion they saye he said these wordes to the Senate: fathers conscripte, a present mischiefe is nowe at hande ac­cording to the token I haue sene this daye (that is to wete) I haue seene a Romaine woman denie her owne chyldren her mylke, and gaue to sucke to a filthy bitche. And truly Annius had reason to esteme this case as a wonder: for the true and swete loues are not but betwene the fathers and children, and where the mother embraceth the brute beaste, and forsaketh her natu­rall childe whiche she hath brought foorth, it cannot be otherwyse, but there either wysedome wanteth, or folly aboundeth: for the foole loueth that he ought to despise, and despiseth that whiche he ought to loue. Yet thoughe the mothers wyll not geue their children sucke, they oughte to doe it for the daunger whiche may come to the helthe of their personnes: for as the womē which bryng forth children, do lyue more healthful then those which beare none: so these which do nourish them, haue more health, then those which doe not nourishe them. For although the brynging vp of children be troublesome to women, it is profitable for their healthe. I am ashamed to tell it, but it is more shame for ladies to do it, to see what plasters they put to their breastes to drie vp their milke: and hereof commeth the iust iudgement of God, that in that place ofte tymes where they seke to stoppe their mylke, in the selfe same place, they them selues procure their sodaine death. I aske now, if wo­men doe not enioye their children being younge, what pleasure hope they to haue of them when they are olde. What a great comforte is it for the pa­rentes to see the younge babe, when he wyll laughe, howe he twincleth his litle eies: when he wyll weape, how he wyll hange the prety lippe: when he woulde speake, howe he wyll make signes with his lytle fyngers: when he wyll goe, howe he casteth forwarde his feete: and aboue all, when he begin­neth [Page 120] to bable, howe he doubled in his woordes. What thing is more plea­saunt to the father then to see them, and to the mother to agree to it, when the chyldren doe sucke, they plucke forth the brestes with the one hande, and with the other they plucke their heere, and further they beate their feete toge­ther, and with their wanton eies, they caste on their parentes a thousande louyng lookes? what is it to see them when they are vexed and angry, how they wyll not be taken of the fathers, howe they stryke their mother: they caste awaye things of golde, and immediatly they are appeased with a litle apple or russhe? what a thing is it to see the innocentes howe they aunswer when a man asketh them, what follies they speake, when they speake to them, how they play with the dogges and runne after the cattes, how they dresse them in wallowing in the dust, how they make houses of earth in the streates, how they weape after the birdes when they see them flie away? Al the which thinges are not to the eies of the fathers and mothers, but as Ni­tingales to sing, and as bread and meate to eate. The mothers peraduenture will saye that they will not bringe vp their children, because when they are younge they are troublesome, but that after they shoulde be nourished and brought vp, they would be glad. To this I answere them, that the mothers shal not denay me, but that some of these things must neades meate in their children: that when they be old, they shalbe either proud, enuious, couetous, or negligent: that they shalbe lecherous, or els theues, that they shalbe bla­sphemours, or els glottons, that they shalbe rebelles, or fooles, and disobedi­ent vnto their fathers. I beleue that at this daie there are many mothers in the worlde, which did hope to be honoured, & serued with the children which they had brought vp: and afterwarde perceiuing their maners, would wil­linglye forgo the pleasures whiche they hoped for, so that they might also be deliuered frō the troubles, which through their euill demeanours are like to ensue. For that time which the parentes hoped to passe with their childrē in pleasures, they consume (seing their vnthrifty life) in sorowfull sighes. I councel, admonishe, & humbly require princesses, & great ladies, to nourishe & enioy their children when they are young and tender: for after that they are great, a man shal bring them newes euery day of diuerse sortes, and maners they vse, for as much as the one shal say that her sonne is in pryson, & another shal say that he is sore wounded, another that he is hid, others that he hathe plaied his cloke, others that he is sclaundered with a cōmon harlot, another that he stealeth his goodes from him, another that his enemies do seke him, another that he accompanieth with vnthriftes, and finally they are so stur­dy, vnhappy, and so farre from that which is good: that oftentimes the fa­thers would reioyce to see them die, rather then to see thē liue so euill a life. Me thinketh that the knot of loue betwene the mother and the childe is so great, that not onely she ought not to suffer them to be nourished out of the house one whole yere: but also she ought not to suffer thē to be out of her pre­sence one only day. For in seing him, she seeth y^t which is borne of her intrails she seeth that which she hath with so great paines deliuered, she seeth hym who ought to inherite all her goodes, she seeth him in who the memory of their auncestours remaineth: and she seeth him, who after her death ought to haue the charge of her affayres and busines. Concludynge therefore that whiche aboue is spoken, I saye that whiche the greate Plutarche [Page] saied, from whom I haue drawen the moste parte of this chapter: that the mother (to be a good mother) ought to haue & kepe her chylde in her armes to nourishe him, and afterwardes when he shalbe great, she ought to haue him in her harte to helpe him. For we see oftentymes great euils ensewe, to the mother, and to the chylde, because she did not bringe hym vp her selfe: and to put hym to nouryshe to a straunge breaste, there commeth neither honour, nor profite.

¶That princesses and great Ladies ought to be very circumspecte in chosinge their nources. Of seuen properties whiche a good nource should haue. Chap. xx.

THose whiche ordeined lawes for the people to lyue were these. Promo­theus whiche gaue lawes to the Egiptians, Solon Solmon to the Grekes, Moyses to the Iewes, Licurgus to the Lacedemonians, and Numa Pompilius to the Romaines: for before these princes came, their people were not gouer­ned by written lawes, but by good auncient customes. The intention of those excellent princes was, not to geue lawes to their predecessours, for they were now dead: neither they gaue them onely for those which lyued in their tyme being wicked, but also for those which were to come, whom they did presuppose would not be good. For the more the worlde increaseth in yeares, so muche the more it is loden with vices. By this that I haue spoken I meane, that if the princesses and great ladies, euery one of them woulde nourishe their owne childe, I neade not to geue them counsell. But since I suppose that the women which shalbe deliuered hereafter, wilbe as proude, and vaine glorious, as those whiche were in times past: we will not let to declare here some lawes and aduises how the ladie ought to behaue her self with her nource, and howe the nource ought to contente her selfe with the creature. For it is but iuste, that if the mother be cruell, and hardy to forsake the creature: that she be sage, pitiefull, and aduised, to choose her nource. If a man finde great treasoure, and afterward care not how to kepe it, but doth commit it into the handes of suspected persons: truely we would call hym a foole. For that which naturally is beloued, is alwayes of al best kept. The woman oughte more wysely kepe the treasure of her owne body, then the treasure of all the earth if she had it. And the mother which doth the contra­ry, and that committeth her child to the custody of a straunge nource, not to her whom she thinketh best, but whom she findeth best cheape: we will not call her a foolishe beaste, (for the name is to vnseamely) but we will call her a sotte, which is somewhat more honester. One of the things that doth make vs moste beleue that the ende of the world is at hande: is to see the litle loue which the mother doth beare to the child being young, and to see the wante of loue which the childe hath to his mother beinge aged. That whiche the childe doth to the father and the mother, is the iust iudgement of God, that euen as the father would not nourishe the childe in his house, being younge: so likewise that the sonne should not suffer the father in his house, he beinge olde. Retourning therefore to the matter, that sith the woman dothe deter­mine to drie and shut vp the fountaines of milke, whiche nature hath geuen her, she ought to be very diligent to serch out a good nource: the which ought not only to content her self to haue her milke whole, but also that she be good [Page 121] of lyfe. For otherwise, the child shall not haue so muche profit by the milke which he sucketh: as the nource shall do it harme, if she be a woman of an euil life. I do aduise princesses and great dames, that they watche diligent­ly to know what their nources are, before they commytte their children to them: for if such nources be euil, and slaundered, they are as serpentes which do byte the mother with their mouth, and do stinge the child with her taile. In my opinion it were lesse euill, the mother should suffer that her childe should perish in deliuering it: then for to kepe in her house an euill woman. For the sorow of the death of the child, is forgotten and brought to nought in time: but the slaunder of her house, shall endure as long as she liueth. Sex­tus Cheronensis sayeth, that the Emperour Marcus Aurelius commaunded his sonne to be broughte vp of a woman, the which was more faire then ver­tuous. And when the good Emperour was aduertised therof, he dyd not only send her from his pallace, but also he banished and exyled her frō Rome: swering that if she had not nouryshed his sone with her pappes, he woulde haue commaunded her to haue bene torne in pieces with beastes. For the woman of an euil renowme, may iustly be condempned and put to death. Princesses and great ladies ought not greatlye to passe, whether the nour­ces be faire or foule: for if the milk be swete, whyt, and tender, it littel skilleth though the face of y^e nource be whit, or blacke. Sextus Cheronensis saieth, in the booke of the nourture of children, that euen as the blacke earth is more fer­till then is the white earthe: so likewise y^t woman which is browne in coū ­tenaunce, hath alwaies the most substaunciall milke. Paulus Diaconus in hys greatest history sayeth, that the Emperour Adocerus did mary him selfe with the daughter of an other emperour his predecessour called Zeno, & the Em­presse was called Arielna. The whych in bringing forth a Sonne, had a wo­man of Hungarye marueylous fayre to nourishe it, & the case succeded in such sorte that the nource for being faire, had by y^t emperour .iii. children the one after the other: & his wofull wife neuer had any but the first alone. A man ought to beleue y^t the empresse Arielna did not only repent her selfe, for taking into her house so faire a nource: but also was sory that euer she had any at all, syth the rybald therby was mystresse in the house, & she remained with­out husband all her life. I do not say it, for that ther are not many foule wo­men vitious, nor yet because ther are not many faire women vertuous: but that princesses and great ladies (accordyng to the qualities of their husban­des) ought to be profitable and tender nources, to bring vp their childrē. For in this case there are some men of so weake cōplection, that in seyng a litell cleane water, immediatly they dye to drinke therof. Let therfore this be the first coūsell in chousing nources, that the nource before she enter into y^e house be examined, if she be honest, & vertuous. For it is a tryfell whether y^e nource be faire or foule: but that she be of a good life, and of an honest behauiour.

Secondarily, it is necessary that the nource which nourisheth y^e child, be not only good in y^e behauiour of her life: but also it is necessary y^t she be hole, as touching y^e bodily health. For it is a rule vnfallible, that of y^e milke which we do suck in our infancy, dependeth all y^e corporall health of our life A child geuē to the nource to nourish▪ is as a tree remoued frō one place to an other. And if it be so (as in dead it is) it behoueth in al pointes, that if y^e earth wher [Page] in it shalbe new put were no better, that at the lest it be not worse: for thys should be a great crueltie, that the mother beyng hole, strong, and well dis­posed, should geue her child to a leane womā to nource, which is feable, sore, and diseased. Princesses and great la [...]es do chose leane wom [...]n, weake, and sycke, for to nourishe their infantes. And in that they do fayle, it is not for that they would erre: but it is bycause that such feable and weake nources (by a vaine desire they haue to be nources in a gentilmās house) on the one part they say they will litel money, & on the other parte they do make great sutes. What a thing is it when a princesse or a noble woman is deliuered of a child, to se the deuyses of other women among them selues, who shalbe the nource, and how those the whyche neuer nourished their owne children, do preserue y^e milke to nouryshe the children of others. To procure this thing for women▪ me thinketh it proceadeth of aboundaunce of folly: and to con­descend to their requestes, me thinketh it is for wante of wisedome. They looke not alwayes to the manners and habilitie of the nource, how apte she is to nource their childe, but how diligent she is in procurynge to haue it to nourishe. They care not greately whether they be good or no: for if the firste be not good, they will take the second, and if the second pleaseth them not, they will haue the thirde, and so vpwardes vntill they haue founde a good nource. But I let you to wete (you princesses and great ladies) that it is more daunger for the children to chaunge diuerse mylkes: then vnto the old men, to eate dyuerse meates. Wee see dayly by experience, that without cō ­parison there dieth more children of noble women, then children of women of the meaner estate. And we will not say, that it is for that they do flatter their children more, nor for that the wiues of labourers do eate fine meates: but that it chaūceth oft times, that the children of a poore woman: doth nei­ther eat, nor drinke: but of one kinde of meate, or milke in .ii. yeares, and the childe of a Ladye shall chaung and alter .iii. nources in .ii. monethes. If prin­cesses and great ladies were circumspect in chousing their nources, and that they did loke whether they were hole without diseases, and honest in their maners, and would not regarde so much the importunitie of their sutes: the mothers should excuse them selues from many sorowes, & the children like­wise should be deliuered from many diseases. One of the most renowmed princes in times past, was Titus the sonne of Vaspasyan, and brother of Domi­tian. Lampridius saieth, that this good Emperour Titus (the most parte of his lyfe) was subiect to greuous diseases and infirmities of his persōne, and the cause was, for that when he was yong he was geuen to a syck nourse to be nourished, so that this good Emperour sucking her dugge but a while, was constrained to passe all his lyfe in paine.

Thirdely, Princesses & great Ladies ought to know, and vnderstand the complexion of their children, to the end y^t accordyng to the same they myghte seke pitieful nources, that is to wete, if y^e child wer cholorycke, flegmaticke, sanguine, or melancolye: For looke what humour the child is of, of the same qualitie the milke of the nource should be. If vnto an old corrupted mā they ministre medecines, conformable to hys diseases for to cure hym: why then should not the mother seeke a holesome nource to the tender babe, agreable to his complexion, to nourish hym: And if thou sayest it is iuste, that the flesh [Page 122] old and corrupted be susteined: I tel the likewise that it is much more neces­sary, that the children should be curiously & well nourished, to multiplye the world. For in the end we do not say, it is time that the yong leaue the bread for the aged: but contrarye it is time that y^e old leaue the bread for the yong. Aristotle in the booke De secretis secretorum, & Iunius Rusticus, in y^e .x. boke de gestis Persarum say, that the vnfortunat king Darius (who was ouercome by Ale­xander the great) had a doughter of a merueilous beautie. And they saye that the nource which gaue sucke to this doughter all the time that she did nou­rishe it, did neither eate nor drinke any thing but poison: and at the end of .iii, yeares, when the child was weyned, & plucked from the dugge, she did eate nothing but Colubers, and other venemous wormes. I haue heard say many times that the Emperours had a custome, to nourish their heires, & children with poysons when they were yong: to the entent y^t they should not be hurt by poyson, afterward whē they wer old. And this errour commeth of those which presume much, and know litel. And therfore I say, that I haue heard say, without sayeng I haue read it. For some declare histories, more for that they haue heard say of others: then for that they haue read them selues. The truth in this case is, that as we vse at this present, to were Cheynes of gold about our necks, or Iewels on our fingers, so did y^e Gentils in times past a rynge on their fingers, or some Iewel in their bosome replenished with poi­son. And bycause y^e Panims did neither feare hel, nor hope for heauen, they had that custome, for if at any times in battaile they should find them selues in distresse, they had rather end their liues with poison, then to receyue any in­iury of their enemies. Then if it were true that those Princes had bene nou­rished with y^e poison, they would not haue caried it about thē to haue ended their lyues. Further I saye, that the princes of Persia did vse when they had any child borne, to geue him milke to sucke agreable to y^e complectiō he had. Since this doughter of Darius was of melancholye humour, they determi­ned to bring her vp with venim and poyson, because all those which are pure malancolye, do liue with sorow, & dye with pleasure. Ingnacius the Venetian in the life of y^e .v. emperours Palleolus (which wer valiaunt emperours in Con­stantinople) saieth, that the second of y^e name called Palleolles y^e hardie, was af­ter the .xl. yeares of his age so troubled with infirmities and diseases, that alwayes of the .xii. monethes of the yeare he was in his bed sycke ix. mone­thes: and beyng so sicke as he was, the affaires and busines of the empire were but slenderly done & loked vnto. For the prince can not haue so small a feuer, but the people in the commen wealth must haue it double. This Em­perour Palleolus had a wyfe, whose name was Huldouina, the which after she had brought all the Phisitions of Asia vnto her husbande, and that she had ministred vnto him all the medecins she could learne to healpe him, and in the end seyng nothing auaile: ther came by chaunce an olde woman, a Gre­tian borne, who presumed to haue great knowlege in herbes, and sayd vnto the empresse noble Empresse Huldouina, If thou wilt that the Emperour thy husband doe liue longe, see that thou chafe, angre, and vexe him euerye weeke at the least twyse: for he is of a pure malancoly humour, and therfore he that doth him pleasure, augmenteth his disease: & he that vexeth him shal prolong his life. The empresse Huldouina folowed the counsel of this Greeke [Page] woman, which was occasion that the emperour lyued afterwardes sounde and hole many yeres: so that of the .ix. monethes which he was accustomed to be sicke euery yeare: in .xx. yeares afterwardes he was not sicke .iii. mone­thes. For wher as this Greke woman commaunded the empresse to angre her husbande but twise in the weeke, she accustomeablye angred hym .iiii. times in the daye.

Fourthly, the good mother ought to take hede, that the nource be verye temperate in eatyng, so that she should eate litell of diuerse meates, and of those few dishes she should not eate to much. To vnderstand that thyng ye must know, that the white milke is no other then blod, which is soden, and that whiche causeth the good or euill bloud, commeth oft tymes of no other thyng, but that eyther the personne is temperate, or els a glutton in eating: and therfore it is a thyng both healthfull and necessary, that the nource that nourisheth the child do eate good meates: for among men and women it is a general rule, that in litle eating, ther is no daunger: and of to much eating, there is no profit. As all the Philosophers saye, the wolfe is one of the bea­stes that deuoureth most, and is most gredyest, and therfore he is most fea­red of al the sheppardes. But Aristotle in his third booke de Animalibus sayeth, that when the wolfe doth once feele her selfe great with yong, in all her lyfe after she neuer suffereth her selfe to be couppled with the wolfe againe: For otherwyse, if the wolfe should yearely bryng forth .vii. or .viii. whealpes (as commonly she doth) and the shepe but one lambe, there woulde be in shorte space more wolues then shepe. Besides all this the wolfe hath an other pro­pertie, whyche is, that though she be a beast most deuouryng and gredy: yet when she hath whealped, she eateth very temperately, and it is to the end to nouryshe here whealpes, and to haue good milke. And besydes that she doth eate but once in the day, the whych the dogge wolfe doth prouide, both for the byche, and her whealpes. Truly it is a monsterous thyng to see, and noysome to heare, and no lesse sclaunderous to speake, that a wolfe whyche geueth sucke to .viii. whealpes, eateth but one onely kynde of meate: and a woman whych geueth sucke but to one chylde alone, will eate of eyght sor­tes of meates. And the cause hereof is, that the beast doth not eate, but to su­steine nature: and the woman doth not eate, but to satisfie her pleasure.

Princesses and great Ladies ought to watche narrowly, to know whē, and how much the nources doe eate, whiche doe nourish their children: For the child is so tender, and the milke so delicate, that with eatyng of sondrye meates they become corrupte, and with eatyng muche they waxe fat. If the children suck those which are fatte and grosse, they are commonly sicke: and if they sucke milke corrupted, they ofte tymes go to bed hole, and in the mor­nyng be found dead. Isodore in his etimologies saieth, that menne of the pro­uince of Thrace were so cruell, that the one dyd eate the other, and they dyd not onely this, but also furder to shew more their immanitie, in the sculles of those that were deade, they dranke the bloud of him that was lately alyue. Thoughe men were so cruell to eate mennes flesh, and to drynk the bloud of the vaines: yet the women [...]hich nourished their children wer so temperat, and moderat in eatyng, tha [...] [...]hey dyd eate nothyng but nettelles sodden and boyled in goates milke. And [...]ause the women of Thrace were so moderate [Page 123] in eatinge, the philosopher Solon Solynon brought some to Athens: for the aun­cientes sought no lesse to haue good women in the commen wealthe, then to haue hardy and valiant captaines in the warre.

The auctoure addeth .iii. other conditions to a good nourse that giueth sucke: that they drinke no wine, that she be honest, and chiefly that she be well conditioned. Chap. xxi.

THe Princesses and great ladies may know by this example, what dif­ference there is betwene the women of Thrace, which are fed with net­telles only, and haue brought forth suche fierce men: and the women of our tyme, whiche through their delicate and excessiue eatyng, bryng forthe suche weake and feable children.

Fiftly, the Ladies ought to be very circumspecte, not onely that nources eate not much, & that they be not gready: but also that they be in drinkynge wine temperat, the which in old time was not called wine, but [...]enym. The reason hereof is apparant and manifest ynough, for if we doe forbyd the fat meates which lieth in the stomacke: we should then much more forbidde the moyst wine, whyche washeth all the vaines of the body. And further I say, that as the child hath no other nourishement but the milke only, & that the milke proceadeth of bloud, & that bloud is nourished of the wine, and that wine is naturally whot: from the first to the last. I say, the woman whyche drinketh wine, and geueth the child sucke, doth as she that maketh a greate fire vnder the panne, wher ther is but a litle milke: so that y^e panne burneth, and the milke runneth ouer. I will not denaye, but that some times it maye chaunce, that the child shalbe of a strong complexiō, and the nource of a fea­ble and weake nature: and thē the child would more substanciall milke, whē the womē is not able to geue it him. In such a case (though with other thin­ges milke may be conferred) I allow that the nource drink a litel wine: but it ought to be so litel, and so well watered, that it should rather be to take a­waye the vnsauorines of the water, then for to tast of any sauour of y^e wine. I do not speake this without a cause, for the nource being sicke, and feable of her selfe, and her milke not substancial, it ofte times moueth her to eate more then necessitie requireth, and to drinke wine which is somewhat nutritiue: so that they supposyng to giue the nource triacle, do giue her poyson to de­stroy her child. Those excellent & auncient Romaines, if they had bene in our time, and that we had deserued to haue bene in their time (thoughe our time for beyng Christians is better) they had saued vs from this trauaile, for they were so temperat in eatyng meates, and so abstinent in drynkyng wynes, that they dyd not only refrayne the drinkyng therof, but also they would not abyde to smell it. For it was a greater shame vnto a Romayne woman to drynke wyne, then to be deuorced from her husbande. Dionisius Alicarnaseus in his boke of the lawes of the Romaynes sayed, that Romulus was the fyrste founder of Rome, and that he occupyed hym selfe more in buildyng houses, to amplifie Rome: then in constituting lawes, for the gouernement of the commen wealth. But emongest .xv. lawes which he made, the seuenth therof was, that no Romaine woman on paine of death shold be so hardy to drinke wine within the walles of Rome. The same Historian saieth, that by the oc­casion of this law the custome was in Rome, that when any Romain La­dye [Page] would drinke wine, or make any solempne feast, she must nedes goe oute of Rome, where euery one hadde their gardens and dwellyng place: because the smell also of wine was prohibited and forhidden women within the cir­cuite of Rome. If Plinie do not deceyue vs in his .xxiiii. booke of his naturall history, It was an auncient custome in Rome, that at eche time that paren­tes met, both men and women, they did kisse the one the other in the face, in token of peace: and this ceremony began first, for that they would smel whe­ther the woman hadde dronke any wine. And if perchaunce she sauored of wine, the Censor mighte haue banished her from Rome. And if her kinseman found her without Rome, he might frely and without any daunger of lawe put her to death: because within the circuite and walles of Rome, no pryuat man by Iustice could put any Romaine to death. As aboue is rehersed, Ro­mulus was he which ordeined the paine for dronkardes: and Ruptilius was he, which ordeined the paine for adulterers. And betwene Romulus and Rup­tilius, there was .xxxii. yeares: so that they ordeyned this strayght lawe for dronckardes, a long time before they dyd the law for adulterers. For if a wo­man be a dronckarde, or harlot, truly they are both great faultes, and I can not tell whether of them is worst: for beyng a harlot, the woman loseth her name, and for being a dronckard, she loseth her fame, and the husbande hys goods. Then if women for the honestie of their personnes only are bound to be temperat in eating and drincking: the woman which nourisheth & giueth the child sucke, ought to be much more corrected, and sober in this case. For in her is concurrante not only the grauitie of their personnes: but the health and lyfe also of the creature, whiche she nourisheth. Therfore it is mete, that the nource be kepte from wine, since the honour of the one, and the lyfe of the other is in peryll.

Sixtly y^e princesses and great Ladies ought to take hede, that their nour­ces be not gotten with child. And the reason herof is, that in that time whē the woman is with child, her natural course is stopped, and that corruption is mingled with the pure bloud: so that she thinking to giue the child mylke to nourish it, geueth it poison to destroye it. And nothyng can be more vniuste, then to put the childe (whiche is alredy borne, and aliue) in daunger, for that which is as yet vnborne, and dead, it is a wonderfull thinge (for a man that wil curiously note and marke thinges) to see the brute beastes, y^t all the tyme they bryng vp their litell ones, they will not consent to accompanie with the males, nor the males wil follow the females: and that that is most to be no­ted yet is, to see what passith betwene byrdes: for the she sparrowe will not suffer the male in any wise to towche or come nere her, till her litle ones be great and able to flye, and moch lesse to sit apon any egges to hatch them till the other be fled and gone, Plurarche in y^e .vii. of his regiment of princes saieth, that Gneus Fuluius (Cosin germain of Pompeius) beyng consull in Rome, fell in loue with a yong mayden of Capua being an orphane, whether he fled for the plague. This maiden was called Sabina, & when she was great with child by this consull, she brought forth a doughter whom they called faire Drusia: and truly she was more cōmended for her beautie, thē for her honesty. For ofteti­mes it happeneth, y^t the faire and dishonest women leue their children so euyll taught, y^t of their mothers they inherite litel goods, & much dishonour. This [Page 124] Sabina therfore being deliuered (as it was the custome of Rome) she did with her owne brestes nourish her doughter Drusia: during y^t which time she was gotten with chyld, by one of the knightes of this Consul, to whom (as to hys seruaunt) he had geuen her to kepe. Wherfore when the Consull was hereof aduertised, and that notwithstandyng she gaue her doughter sucke: he com­maunded y^t the knight should be immediatly beheded, & his louer Sabina forth­with to be cast into a wel. The day of execution came that both these parties should suffer, wherfore the wofull Sabina sent to beseche the consul, y^t it would please him before her death to geue her audience of one sole word y^t she would speake vnto hym, the which being come, in the presence of them all she sayed vnto him. O Gneus Fuluius, knowe thou I did not cal the to thende thou shul­dest graūt me lyfe, but because I would not dye before I had sene thy face: thoughe thou of thy selfe shuldest remember, that as I am a fraile woman, and fel into sin with the in Capua: so I might fal now (as I haue done) with another in Rome. For we women are so fraile in this case, during the time of this our miserable life: y^t none can keape her selfe sure, from y^e assaultes of the weake fleash. The cōsul Gneus Fuluius to these wordes aunswered y^e gods im­mortal knoweth Sabina, what grefe it is to my wofull harte, y^t I of thy secret offence shuld be an open scourge. For greater honesty it is for men to hyde your frailnes: then openly to punyshe your offences. But what wilt thou I should do in this case, considering the offence thou hast comitted? by the im­mortal gods I sweare vnto the, & againe I sweare, that I had rather thou shouldest secreatly haue procured y^e death of some man: then y^t openly in thys wise thou should haue slaundered my house. For thou knowest y^e true mea­ning of the common prouerbe in rome. It is better to die in honour, then to liue in infamie. And thinke thou not (Sabina) that I do codemne the to die be­cause thou forgotest thy faieth vnto my person, and that thou gauest thy self to hym whiche kepte the: for sinse thou werte not my wyfe, the libertie thou haddest to come with me frō Capua to Rome, y^e selfe same thou haddest to go with another frō rome to Capua. It is an euil thing for vitious men, to re­proue y^e vices of others, wherin they thē selues are faultie. The cause why I cōdempne the to die, is for the remēbraunce of the old law y^e which cōmaun­deth, that no nourse or woman geuyng sucke, should on paine of death be be­gotten with child, truly y^e law is veray iust. For honest women do not suffer, that in geuyng her child sucke at her breast, she should hide another in her in­trailes. These wordes passed betwene Gneus Fuluius the consul, and the ladye Sabina of Capua. Howbeit as Plutarche saieth, in that place the consul had pitie vpon her, & shewed her fauoure, banishyng her vpon condicion, neuer to re­tourne to Rome againe. Cinna Catullus in the forth boke of the .xxii. consulles saieth, that Caius Fabricus was on of y^e most notable consulles that euer was in rome, & was sore afflicted w^t disseases in his life, onely because he was nou­ryshed .iiii. monethes with the milke of a nource being great with child: & for feare of this, they locked the nource with y^e child in the tēple of the vestal vir­gines, wherfor y^e space of .iii. yeres they wer kepte. They demaūded y^e consul, why he did not nourish his children in his house? he aunswered: the children being nourished in the house, it might be an occasion that y^e nource should be begotten with child, and so she should distroye the children with her corrupt [Page] milke, & furder should geue me occasion to doe iustice vpon her person: wher­fore keaping them so shut vp, we are occasion to preserue their lyfe, and also oure children from peril. Diodorus Siculus in his librarie and Sextus Cheronensis sayth, in the life of Marcus Aurelius, that in the Isles of Baleares ther was a cu­stome, that the nources of yong children (whether they were their owne, or others) should be seuered from their husbandes for the space of .ii. yeares. And the woman whych at that tyme (though it were by her husbande) were with child though they did not chastice her as an adultresse: yet euery man spake euill of her as of an offender. Duryng the tyme of these ii. yeres, to the end the husband should take no other wife, they commaunded that he shold take a concubine, or that he should bye a slaue, whose companye he myghte vse as hys wyfe: for amongest these barbarous he was honoured most, who had .ii. wyues, the one with childe, and thother not. By these examples aboue recyted, Princesses and great Ladies may see, what watche and care they ought to take in chousyng their nources, that they be honest, sinse of thē de­pendeth not onlye the healthe of their chyldren: but also the good fame of their houses.

The seuenth condicion is, that princesses and great Ladyes ought to see their nources haue good condicions, so that they be not troblesome, proude, harlots, lyers, malicious, nor flatterers: for the viper hath not so muche poy­son, as the woman whyche is euell conditioned. It litell auayleth a man to take wyne from a woman, to entreate her to eate litel, and to withdraw her from her husband, if of her owne nature she be hatefull, and euell ma [...]red: for it is not so great daunger vnto the child: that the nource be a dronckard, or a Glutton, as it is if she be harmefull, and malicious. If perchaunce the nource (that nourisheth the chyl [...]e) be euell conditioned: trulye she is euell troubeled, and the house wherein she dwelleth euell combred. For suche one doeth importune the lorde, trobleth the ladye, putteth in hazard the childe, and aboue all is not contented with her selfe. Finallye fathers for geuynge to much libertie to their nources, oftetimes are the cause of many practises which they do: wherwith in the end, they are greued with the death of their children which foloweth. Amongest all these which I haue red I saye, that of the auncient Romaine princes, of so good a father as Drusius Ge manicus was, neuer came so wycked a sonne as Caligula was, beyng the fourth Em­perour of Rome: for the historiographers were not satisfyed to enryche and prayse the excellencies of hys father, neither ceased they to blame and repre­hende the infamyes of his sonne. And they say, that hys naughtines procea­deth not of the mother which bare hym: but of the nource which gaue hym sucke. For oftimes it chaunceth that the tree is grene and good, when it is planted, and afterwardes it becommeth drye, and wythered, only for beyng caryed into another place. Dion the greke in the second boke of Cesars sayeth, that a cursed woman of Campania called Pressilla, nouryshed and gaue sucke vnto thys wycked childe. She had agaynst al nature of women her breastes as heary as the berdes of men, and besides that, in runnyng a horse, hande­lyng her staffe, shoting in the Crosbowe, fewe yong men in rome were to be compared vnto her. It chaunced on a time that as she was geuyng sucke to Caligula, for y^t she was angry, she tore in peces a yong child, & with the bludde [Page 125] there of annoynted her breastes: and so she made Caligula the yong childe, to sucke together both blud and milke. The sayed Dion in hys booke of the lyfe of this Emperour Caligula sayeth, that the women of Campania (whereof the sayed Prescilla was) had this custome, that when they would geue their teat to the childe firste they dyd anoynte the nipple with the bludde of a hedge hogge, to the end their children myght be more fyerce and cruell.

And so was this Caligula, for he was not contented to kyll a man onely, but also he sucked the bludde that remayned on his swerde, and lyked it of with his tong. The excellent Poet Homer meanyng to speake playnely of the cruel­tyes of Pirrus sayed in his Odisse of him, suche wordes: Pirrus was borne in Grece, nourished in Archadye, and brought vp with tigers milke, whiche is a cruel beast. As if more plainelye he had sayed, Pirrus for beyng borne in Grece was Sage, for that he was brought vp in Archadie he was strong and cou­ragyous, and for to haue sucked Tigars milke, he was veray proude, and c [...]uell. Hereof maye be gathered, that the great Gretian Pirrus, for wantinge of good milke, was ouercome with euell condicions.

The selfe same historian Dion sayeth in the lyfe of Tiberius, that he was a great dronckarde, And the cause herof was, that the nource dyd not onelye drynke wyne: but also she weined the child with soppes dypped in wyne. And wythout doubte the cursed woman had done lesse euill, if in the steade of milke she had geuē the child poison, wythout teachinge it to drinke wine: wherfore afterwardes he lost his renowme. For truly y^e Romayne Empire had lost lytell if Tiberius had died beyng a child: and it had wonne muche, if he had neauer knowen what drinkyng of wyne had mente.

I haue declared all that whyche before is mencioned, to thentente that Princesses and great Ladyes myghte be aduertised, that sinse in not nou­ryshyng their children, they shewe them selues crewel: yet at the least in pro­uidyng for them good nourses, they should shew them selues pitifull. For the children oftetymes folow more the condicion of the milke which they sucke: then the condicion of their mothers whyche broughte them forth, or of th [...]ir fathers whych begot them. Therfore they oughte to vse much circumspectiō herin: for in them consisteth the fame of the wyues, the honoure of the hus­bande, and the wealth of the children.

Of the disputations before Alexander the great, concernyng the time of the suckyng of babes. Chap. xxii.

QVintus Curtius sayeth, that after the great Alexander (whych was the last kyng of the Macedonians, and first Emperour of the grekes) hadde ouercome kynge Darius, and that he sawe hym selfe onely lorde of all Asia, he went to rest in babylon: for among menne of warre there was a cu­stome, that after they had ben long in the warres, euery on should retire to his owne house. King Philip (whych was father of kyng Alexander) always councelled his sonne, that he should lead with him to the warres valiaunt captaines, to conquere the world: and that out of his realmes and dominiōs he should take & chose the wysest men, and best experimented to gouerne the empire. He had reason in such wyse to councell hys sonne, for by the councell of Sages, that is kept and mainteined: whych by the strengthe of valiaunt [Page] men is gotten and wonne. Alexander the great therefore beyng in Babilon, after he had conquered all the countrye, since all the citye was vitious, and hys armye so long without warres, some of his owne men began to robbe one another, others to playe their owne, some to force women, and others to make banquettes and feastes, and when some were droncke, others raysed quarels, striffes, and dyscentions: so that a man could not tell whether was greater, the ruste in their armours, or the corruptions in their customes. For the property of mans malice is, that when the gate is open to idlenes, infy­nite vyces enter into the house.

Alexander the great seing the dyssolution which was in his armye, and the losse which myght ensewe hereof vnto his great empire, commaunded streightly that they should make a shew and iuste thoroughe Babilon, to the end that the men of warre should excersise their forces thereby. And as Aristotle sayethe, in the booke of the questions of Babylon, the turney was so muche vsed amongest them, that sometimes they caryed awaye more dead and wounded men, then of a bloudy battaile of the enemy. Speaking accordyng to the law of the gentiles (whiche loked not glorie for their ver­tues, nor feared hell to dye) at the torney the commendemant of Alexander was veray iuste, for that doyng as he dyd to the armye, he defaced the vyce whych dyd wast it, and for him selfe he got perpetuall memorye, and also it was cause of muche suretye in the common weale.

This good Prince not contented to excersise his armye so, but ordeined, that daily in his presence the philosophers should dispute, and the question wherin they shold dyspute, Alexander him selfe would propounde▪ wherof fo­lowed, that the great Alexander was made certayne of that wherin he doub­ted: and so by his wisedom all men exercysed their craftes and wittes.

For in this tyme of idlenes, the bokes wer no lesse marred with dust, be­cause they were not opened: then the weapons were with rust, which were not occupied. There is a booke of Aristotle, intituled the questions of Babilon, where is sayed, that Alexander propounded, the Philosophers disputed: the pryncipalles of Persia replied, and Aristotle determined. And so continued in disputations as long as Alexander dyd eate: for at the table of Alexander, one day the captaines reasoned of matters of warre, and another day the Philo­sophers dysputed of their philosophie. Blundus sayeth in the booke intituled, Italia Illustrata, that amonge the Princes of Persia their was a custome, that none could sit downe at the table, vnlesse he were a kyng that had ouercome an other kyng in battaile, & none coulde speake at their table but a Philoso­pher. And truly the custome was veray notable, and worthy to be noted: for there is no greater follie then for any manne to desire that a Prince shoulde reward him, vnlesse he know that by hys workes he had deserued y^e same. Kynge Alexander, dyd eate but one meale in the daye, and therefore the firste question that he propounded vnto them was. That the man which did not eate but once in the day, at what houre it was best to eate, for the health of his personne, and whether it shold be in the mornyng, none dayes, or nyght? This question was debated among y^e philosophers, wherof euery one to de­fend his opinion, alleaged many foundacions. For no lesse care haue the Sa­ges in their mindes, to issewe out of them disputations victorious: then the [Page 126] valiaunt captaines haue in aduenturing their persones, to vanquyshe theyr enemyes. It was determined: as Aristotle maketh mētion in his Probleames, that the man whyche eateth but once in the daye, shoulde eate a litell before nyght: for it auayleth greatly to the health of the body, that when the dige­stion beginneth in the stomacke, a man taketh hys first steape.

The second question that Alexander propounded was, what age the child should haue, when he should be weyned from the dugge. And the occasion of this question was, for that he had begoten a yong doughter of a Quene of the Amazones, the whiche at that tyme dyd suche: and for to knowe whe­ther it were tyme or not to weyne her, there was great dysputations. For the childe was nowe great to sucke, and weake to weyne, I haue declared this history for no other purpose, but to shew howe in Babilon this question was disputed, before kyng Alexander, that is to wete, how many yeares the chyld ought to haue before it were weyned from the teate: for at that tyme, they are so ignoraunt, that they cannot demaunde that that is good, nor cō ­plaine of that whych is nought. In that case a man ought to know, as the tymes are variable, and the regions and prouynce dyuers: so lykewyse haue they sondrye wayes of bryngynge vp, and nouryshyng their chyldren. For there is asmuche dyfference betwene the contryes of one, from the contries of others, in dyeng, and buryeng the dead bodyes, as there hath ben varyeties in the worlde, by waye of nouryshyng and bryngyng vp of children.

Of sondrye kindes of sorceries, charmes and witchecraftes, whych they in olde time vsed in geuing their children sucke, the which Christians ought to eschewe. Chap. xxiii.

IT is not muche from our purpose, if I declare here some olde examples of those whych are paste. Strabo in hys boke de situ Orbis sayeth, that after the Assirians, (whych were the first that reigned in the world) the Siconians had signorie, (whych lōge tyme after were called Archades) whych were great and famous wrastlers, and scolemasters at the fence, from whom came the best and first masters of fence, the whyche the Romaynes kepte alwayes for their playes: for as Trogus Pompeius sayeth, the romaynes founde it by expe­rience, that ther wer no better men in weighty affaires, then those of Spaine: nor no people apter to plaies and pastimes, then those of Archadia. As those Siconians were auncient, so they were marueilously addicted to follyes, and superstitious in theyr vsages and customes, for among other they honored for their god the Moone. And duryng the time that she was sene, they gaue their children sucke, imagenyng that if the Moone shyned vpon the breastes of the mother, it would do much good vnto the child. The auctour herof is Sinna Catullus, in the boke De educandis pueris. And as the same historian sayeth the egiptians were great enemyes to the Siconians, so that all that whych the one dyd alowe, the others dyd reproue, as it appereth. For asmuche as the Siconians loued oliues and achornes, they were clothed with lynnen, and worshypped the Moone for theyr god. The Egiptians for the contrary had no olyues, neyther they nourished any okes, they dyd were no lynnen, they worshypped the sonne for their god, and aboue all, as the Siconians dyd geue theyr chyldren sucke whyles the Moone dyd shyne: so the egyptians gaue theyr chyldred sucke whyles the sonne dyd shyne.

[Page]Amonge other folyes of the Caldians this was one, that they honoured the fier for their god, so that he that was not maried, could not lighte fier in hys house: bycause they sayed the custodye of Goddes shoulde be committed to none, but to maryed and auncient men. They had in mariages suche order, that the daye when any children dyd marie, the priestes came into his house to lyghte new fier: the which neuer ought to be put out, vntill the houre of his death. And if perchaunce during the life of the husband, and of the wife, they should finde the fier ded and put out: the mariage betwene them was dede, and vndone, yea thoughe they had ben .xl. yeares togethers before in such sorte. And of this occasion came the prouerbe which of many is redde, and of fewe vnderstanded: that is to wete prouoke me not so muche that I throwe water into the fier. The Chaldeans vsed such wordes, when they woulde deuorce and seperate the mariage: for if the woman were ill con­tented with her husbande, in castinge a lytel water on the fier, immediate­lye she myghte marye with another. And if the husbande in lyke maner dyd putte oure the fier, he mighte with another woman contracte mariage. I haue not bene maried as yet, but I suppose there are manye christians whych wysheth to haue at this present the liberty of the Caldes: for I am wel assured there are manye men which would cast water on the fier, to escape from their wiues: also I sweare, that their would be a number of women whiche would not onely put out the fier, but also the ashes, imbers, & coles, to make thē selues fre, and to be dyspatched of their husbandes, and inespe­cially from those whiche are ielous.

Therfore returnyng to oure matter, the Chaldeans made before the fier, all notable thinges in their lawe, as before their God. For they dyd eate before the fier, they slepte before the fier. They did contracte before the fier, and the mothers dyd neuer geue the children sucke, but before the fier. For the milke (as they imagined) dyd profite the child when it sucked before the fier, which was their god. The aucthour of this that is spoken, is Cynna Catullus. The Mauritaines whiche at this present are called the realmes of Maruechi, were in tymes past warlyke men, of whom the Romaines had greate victo­ries, and the more valiaunt the men wer in the warres: so much more super­stitious their wiues were in sorceries, charmes, and enchauntements. For the husband that is long absent from his wife ought not to maruaile though in her be found some faultes. Cicero in the booke De natura deorum, and muche more at large Bocas sayeth, that as many men and women, as were in that realme: so many Gods there were among the people. For euery one had one perticuler God to him selfe: so that the God of the one, was not the God of the other. And this was to be vnderstand in the weke daies: For in the holy and festiuall daies they had other Gods, the which altogethers they dyd ho­nour. The maner that they had in chosyng Gods when a woman was with child was this. She went to the sacrificer of the idoll, and told him that she was great with child, and besought him to geue her a god for her childe. And the sacrificer gaue her a lytell idoll of stone, gold, siluer, or of woode, the which the mother hanged at the necke of the child. And as often as the child dyd sucke the dugge, so ofte the mother putteth the idoll one his face. For otherwyse she had not geuen hym a droppe of mylke to sucke, vnlesse first she [Page 127] had consecrated to the God the mylke of her breste. That which I haue spo­ken is litle in respect of that I will speake, whiche is, that if perchaunce the chylde died before the time, or that any younge man by some perylous my­shappe died before he was somewhat aged: the fathers and kinsmen of the dead did assemble, and came to the Idoll of him, and eyther stoned it, honge it, drue it, brent it, or els they caste it into the deape well, sayinge, that sithe the Gods did kyll man without reason: that they might lawfully kyl them by iustice. The same Bochas in the seconde booke De natura Deorum saieth, that the Allobroges had a custome, that those whiche were priestes of the Gods should from the wombe of their mothers be chosen vnto that dignitie. And assone as the childe was borne, before he tasted the mylke of the breste, they caried it into a priestes house: for they had a custome, that the man which had tasted the thinges of the worlde, merited not to serue the Gods in the tem­ples. One of the lawes that the sayed priestes had, was that not onely they could not by violence shed any bloud, nor yet see it, neyther touche it: so that immediatly as the prieste should by chaunce touche mannes bloud, euen so sone he loste his priesthode. This lawe afterwardes was so narrowely lo­ked vnto, that the priestes of the Allobroges dyd not onely not shedde drinke nor touche mans bloude when they were nowe men: but also when they were litle infants (those that should be priests) they gaue them no milke of y^e breaste at al. And this was their reason. That to sucke milke was no other, but to drinke whyte bloude: for white milke is but sodden bloude, and redde bloud is but rawe mylke. Pulio in the booke De educandis pueris saieth, that the auncientes had a certaine kinde of reedes, that breaking it in sondre, there is­sued white mylke, wherewith they accustomed to nourishe their children: but let it be as it is, that this lawe prohibite children their mylke, which here after should be made priestes of the temples: me thinketh it is a tricke rather of superstitious Sorcerers, then of religious priestes. For there is neither de­uine nor humaine lawe that wyll forbidde, or prohibite anye suche thinge, without the whiche mans life can not endure. These were the maners and customes that the auncientes had in the nouriture of their children.

And in dede I marueile not at that they did, for the Gentils estemed this cursed Idoll for as great a God: as we Christians doe the true and liuyng God. I was willing to declare all these antiquities, to the ende that prin­cesses and great ladies should haue pleasure in reading them and knowing them: but not to that ende they should imitate and folowe them in any kynd of thing. For according to the faithe of our Christian religion, as sure as we be of the offences that those did vnto God, through folowinge those super­stitions: so sure we are of the good seruices whiche we doe vnto God in for­sakyng them. Howe longe tyme the mothers ought to geue their chyldren sucke, and what age they ought to weyne them, not for that whiche I haue redde, nor for that whiche I haue demaunded in this case I am able to aun­swere: but for as muche as Aristotle saieth, in the booke aboue named, that the chylde at the moste ought to sucke but twoo yeares, and at the leaste one yeare and an halfe. For if he sucke lesse, he is in daunger to be sicke, and if he sucke more, he shalbe alwayes tender. I wyll not omitte that whiche Sextus Cheronensis saieth, in the fourth booke of his common wealth. And hereof [Page] Boccace also maketh mention in the thirde booke De natura Deorum, that when Alexander the great passed into India, amongest other renowmed Philoso­phers, there was one with hym called Arethus, who (as by chaunce he was in Nissa an auncient citie of India) there came a man of that Countrey to shewe him suche antiquities as were there. Arethus the Philosopher behelde them as a sage and wyse man. For the simple man onely beholdeth the do­inges, and howe they seme: but the sage man enquireth and demaundeth of the causes, and from whence they came. Amonge other thinges he she­wed this good Philosopher a great house, being in the ende of the citie, and therein were many women, whereof euery one of them had a chambre, and in euery chambre there was twoo beddes, and adioyning to the one herbes were sowen in maner of nettels, and adioyning to the other there was a kynde of twigges, as of Rosemary, and in the myddes of the house, there were many graues of small chyldren. The Philosopher Arethus asked why that house was so great, and the Indian aunswered. This house is to nourish the chyldren whiche are orphanes, when they be of their parentes or frendes abandoned. For it is a custome in this citie, that immediatly when the fa­ther of one chylde dieth, the citie then taketh hym for her sonne. And from that tyme forwarde he is called the childe of the citie, whiche nourisheth hym: and not the chylde of the father, whiche begotte hym.

Arethus the Philosopher secondarely asked him, why there were so many women in that house, without any man among them? whereunto the In­dian aunswered: in this countrey there is a custome, that the women are se­uered from their husbandes, all the tyme they geue their children sucke: For the wyll of our God is, that the woman be not in company with her hus­bande after she is with childe, and this not onely vntyll suche tyme as she is delyuered: but also vntil such time as the childe be weyned from the breaste.

The Philosopher Arethus thirdly demaunded hym, why euery one had her chambre seuerally? the Indian aunswered. Thou knowest that nowe na­turally reigneth so muche malice in the woman, that she alwayes enuieth the felicitie of an other. And if they were altogethers, they would haue a­mongest them suche quarrelles and debates, that they woulde corrupte the milke whiche they should geue to the childe.

Fourthly the philosopher Arethus asked, why in euery chambre there was a great bedde, and a litle pallet, since there was but one woman, & one childe? whereunto the Indian aunswered. In this India they do not consent that the nources should slepe togethers in one bedde with the younge childe, whome they nourishe: for when the women are heauy a sleape, not taking heade to the child, they many times ouerlay the poore infante, and so smother it aliue.

Fiftly the philosopher asked why ioyning to the beddes, there was net­tels which are without sauour in eating, and daungerous in touching? The Indian aunswered. I let thee knowe, that in this India (against all nature) the children wepe not whyles they are younge, and therefore they haue grow­ing by the beddes nettelles to make them weape: for our philosophers tel­leth vs, that if dayly the childe doth weape twoo houres, it profiteth hym not onely for the health of his body, but also for to prolonge his lyfe.

Furthermore the philosopher for y^e sixt asked, why ther was so many twigs [Page 128] like Rosemary by the bed side? whereunto the Indian aunswered. Knowe thou, that in India there is an olde plague, that we can not defend our selues from these witcheis, the whiche by their sorceries, and with the only lookes of their eyes destroyeth many chyldren: and they saye, that all the children whiche shalbe perfumed with those herbes, can take no hurte through the lookes of those witcheis.

¶Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius sent to his frend Dedalus, in the end wherof he enueyeth against those women whiche cure children by sorceries, char­mes, and enchauntementes. Cap. xxiiii.

PRincesses and great Ladies oughte to take hede that their nources be not witches, and that they doe not suffer the babes (whyles they are yet younge) to take any charmes or sorceries: for the medecine putteth the life of the creature in perill, and those sorceries doe not only harme to the bo­dy of the chylde, but also to the soule of her selfe whiche vseth it. To prayse more them that are past, and to confounde more the presente, I wyll that those whiche shall reade this, doe reade a letter of Marcus Aurelius, whiche he sent to a frende of his, in the ende whereof it appeareth howe great enne­mies the auncientes were to witches, charmers, and to al kynde of sorcerers: for truly I knowe not which was greater, either the temperaunce that they had in nourishing their children beinge gentilles, or the foolyshe hardinesse whiche we haue being Christians. Here foloweth therefore the letter in the ende of the whiche, he speaketh against witches and euill women.

¶ Howe excellent a thinge it is for a gentleman to haue an eloquent tongue. Cap. xxv.

ONe of the chefest things that the creatour gaue to man, was to know & be able to speake: for otherwise (the soule reserued) y^e brute beastes are of more value, then dōme men. Aristotle in his Aeconomices, without comparison prayseth more the Pithagoricall sort, then the Stoical: sayeng that the one is more conforme to reason, then the other is. Pithagoras commaunded, that all men which were domme, and without speache, should imediately, & without contradiction be banished and expulsed from the people. The cause why this phylosopher had commaunded such thing was, forsomuche as he sayd, that the tongue is moued by the mocions of the soule, & that he whiche had no tongue had no soule. And he which hath no soule, is but a brute beast: and he that is a beast, deserueth to serue in the fields among brute beasts. It is a good thing not to be domme as bruyte beastes are: and it is a greater thing to speake as the reasonable men do: but it is muche more worthye to speake wel, as the eloquent philosophers do. For otherwise if he which spea­keth doth not wey the sentences more then the wordes, ofte tymes the po­pingayes shal content them more which are in the cage: then the men which do read in scooles. Iosephus in the booke De bello Iudaico saith, that king Herode, not onely with his personne and goodes, but also with all his frendes and parentes folowed and gaue ayde to Marcus Anthonius, and to his louer Cle­opatra, howbeit in the end Octauian had the vyctorie. For the man which for the loue of a woman doth enterprise conquestes, it is impossible that eyther he loose not his lyfe, or els that he lyue not in infamy Herode seing that Marcus Anthonius was dead, determyned to go towardes the Emperour Octauian, at whose feete he layd his crowne, and made a notable oration, wherein he spake so pleasaunt wordes, and so hyghe sentences, that the Emperour Octa­uian did not only pardon him for that he was so cruell an enemye: but also [Page 131] he confirmed him againe into his Realme, and toke him for his deare and special frend. For among the good men and noble hartes, many euil workes are amended by a few good words. If Blundus, in the booke intituled Roma triumphante, do not deceiue me, Pirrus the great king of the Epirotes, was stout and hardy, valiaunt in armes, liberal in benefites, pacient in aduersityes and aboue al renowmed to be very swete in wordes, and sage in his aunswers.

They sayd that this Pirrus was so eloquent, that the man with whom once he had spoken remayned so much his, that from that time foreward in his absence he toke his part, and declared his life and state in presence. The a­boue named Blundus saied and Titus Liuius declareth the same, that as the Romaynes were of al things prouided (seing that king Pirrus was so eloquent) they prouided in the senate, that no Romaine Embassadour shold speake vn­to him, but by a third person: for otherwise he would haue perswaded them through his sweate woordes, that they shoulde haue retourned againe to Rome as his procurers & Soliciters. Albeit Marcus Tullius Cicero was Se­natour in the Senate, consul in the Empire, rich amongest the rich, and har­dy amongest men of warre: yet truly none of these qualyties caused him e­ternal memorie, but only his excellent eloquēce. This Tullius was so estemed in Rome for the eloquence of his tongue only that oft times they hard hym talke in the Senate iii. houres togethers, without any man speakinge one word. And let not this be lytle estemed nor lightly passed ouer: for worldlye malyce is of such condicion, y^t some man may more easely speake 4. howers, then another man shal haue pacience to heare him one minute, Anthonius Sa­bellicus declareth, that in the time of Amilcares the Affricans, a Philosopher na­med Afronio florished in great Carthage, who being of the yeres of 81. dyed in the first yeare of the warres of Punica. They demaunded this Phylosopher, what it was y^t he knew? he aunswered. He knew nothing but to speake wel. They demaunded him againe what he learned? he aunswered. He did learne nothinge but to speake wel. Another time they demaunded him what he taught? he aunswered. He taught nothing but to speake wel. Me thinketh y^t this good phylosopher in 80. yeres and one, said that he learned nothing but to speake wel, he knew nothing but to speake wel, & that he taught nothing but to speake wel. And truly he had reasō: for the thing which most adorneth mans life, is the sweate pleasaunte tongue to speake wel. What is it to see ii. men in one councel, the one talking to the other, the one of them hath an e­uyll grace in propounding, and thother excellent in speaking. Of such there are some, that in hearing theym talke .iii. houres, we would neither be tro­bled nor weryed: and of the contrarie part there are others so tedyous, and rude in their speache that as sone as men perceiue they beginne to speake they auoyde the place. And therfore in mine opinyon ther is no greater trou­ble thenne to herken one quarter of an houre a rude man to speake: and to be contrarye ther is no greater pleasure, thenne to heare a dyscreate man though it were a whole weke.

The deuyne Plato in the Booke of Lawes sayd, that there is nothynge whereby a manne is knowen more, thenne by the woordes he speaketh: for of the woordes whyche we heare hym speake, we iudge his intenti­on eyther to be good or euil. Laertius in the lyfe of the Phylosophers sayeth, [Page] that a yong child borne at Athens, was brought vnto Socrates the great phy­losopher: being in Athens, to the end he shold receiue him into his company, & teach him in his scoole. The yong chyld was straunge and shamefaste, and durst not speake before his maister: wherfore the philosopher Socrates said vn­to him, speake frend, if thou wilt that I know the. This sentence of Socrates was very profound: and I pray him that shal reade this wryting, to pause a while therat. For Socrates wil not that a man be knowen by the gesture he hath, but by the good or euyl wordes which he speaketh. Though eloquence and speaking wel, to euery man is a cause of augmenting their honour, and no dimynissher of their goodes: yet withoute comparison it shineth muche more, and is most necessarie in the pallaces of Prynces and great Lordes. For men which haue common offices, ought of necessity harken to his na­turall contrymen, & also to speake with straungers. Speking therfore more plainly I say, that the Prince ought not to trauaile only to haue eloquence, for the honour of his person: but also it behoueth him for the comon wealth.

For as the prince is but one, and is serued of all: so it is vnpossible that he haue so much, as wil satisfye and content them al. And therfore it is necessa­rie that he requyte some mith money: & that he content others with good wordes. For the noble hart loueth better a gentle worde: then a reward or gift, with the tongue of a rude man. Plato. Liuius, Herodotus, Vulpicius, Eutropi­us, Diorus. Plynie, and many other innumerable auncient historyographers, do not cease to prayse the eloquence of greeke princes, and latynes, in their wor­kes. O how blessed were those tymes, when ther were sage princes, and dis­crete lords: truly they haue reason to exalt them. For many haue obteyned, and wonne the royal crounes and septures of the Empire, not so much for y^e great battailes they haue conquered, nor for the highe bloud and generacion from whence they are dyssended▪ as for the wisedom, and eloquence, which they had. Marcus Aurelius was natural of Rome borne in mount Celio, he was poore in patrimony, and of base lynage, lytel in fauour, lefte and forsaken of his parentes, and besides al this, only for beinge vertuous in his lyfe, pro­found in doctrine, and of so high eloquence, the Emperour Anthonius (called Pius) gaue him his daughter Faustine for wife: who being reproued of many, bycause he gaue his doughter to so poore a philosopher, aunswered. I had rather haue a poore philosopher, then a riche foole.

Pulio in his seuenth booke of the Romaine lawes sayth, that in Rome ther was a law very wel kept, & obserued of the consulles, by a custome brought in, that the Dictatours, Censors, and Emperours of Rome, entered into the Senate once in the weke at the least, and in this place they, should geue and render accompt, in what state the common wealth remayned. O, would to God that at this present this law were so kept, and obserued: for ther is none who doth minister so good iustice, as he which thinketh to giue accompt of his doings. They say that Calligula (the fourth Emperoure of Rome) was not only deformed, infamous, and cruel in his lyfe: but also was an Idiote in eloquence, and of an euyl vtteraunce in his communycacion. So that he among al the Romaine princes, was constrayned to haue others to speake for him in the Senate. This wickedman was so vnfortunate, that after his cruel and infamous death, they drew him throughout Rome, and set vppon [Page 132] his graue this Epitaphe.

I Cannot tel why princes do prayse them selues to be strong and hardy, to be wel disposed, to be runners, to iust wel, and do not esteame to be elo­quent sinse it is true that those giftes do profite them only for their life, but the eloquēce profiteth them, not only for to honour their life, but also to augment their renowme. For we do reade, that by that many Princes dyd pa­cifye great sedycions in the common wealth, and besides that they deserued immortall memorie. Suetonius Trancquillus in the firste booke of Cesars sayth, that the aduenturous Iulius Cesar (being as yet but 16. yeares of age) when there dyed in Rome an aunt of his called Cornelia, at her buriall he made an oracion, in the which he (being so yong) shewed marueilous great eloquence: which was so accepted that day in al people, that in the end, euery man iud­ged him to be a valiaunt Romane captaine. And as Appianus declareth, they say that Silla spake these wordes. That which I perceiue of this yong man Caius Cesar is, that in the boldnes of his tongue, he declareth how valiaunt he ought to be in his person. Let therfore Princes and great Lords se, how much it may profite them, to know to speake wel and eloquently. For we se no other thing dayly, but that a man of base lynage, by his eloquence com­meth to be exalted: and the other which of lynage is nobly borne, for wante of speaking wel, and being eloquent, is the first that discendeth most vilest of al other. Thentencion wherupon I wrate these things was for no other, but to admonishe, perswade, and pray al princes, and great lordes, that whiles their children are yong, they should put them to wise and learned men, to the end they should teache them: not only how they ought to liue, but also how they ought to speake. For to personnes of estate it is a great infamy, to do, or to inuent to do a thing, and afterward not to know how to geue a rea­son therof, Polidorus in the third booke of his commentaries sayth, that when the Lacedemonians were put to flyght by the Athenians in Rota Millina (it is called Millina, bycause the battaile was in the riuer of Milline) the Lacedemonians sent a phylosopher called Heuxinus, to treate of peace with the Athenians: who made such an eloquent oracion to the Senate of Athens, that hee dyd not only obtaine the peace which he desired for his country, but for himselfe also he wanne perpetual renowme. At the phylosophers retourne, the Athenians gaue him a letter, which sayd in this sort.

¶ Of a letter whiche the Athenians, sente to the Lacedemonians. Cap. xxvi.

THe Senate, people, and Sages of Athens, wisheth healthe to the per­sons, and peace to the common wealth, of you of the senate and people of the Lacedemonians. We take the immortal gods to recorde, that in the [Page] laste battaile we had no lesse dyspleasure to se ye ouercome: then on the con­trary we had pleasure, to se vs remaine victorious. For in the end, the daun­gers and inconueniences of the cruel warres are so great, that the euill and daunger is certeine to them that are vanquished: and the profite is doubt­ful, to them that haue ouercommed. We would gladly, that y^t which now ye wil, ye would haue willed soner: & that which now ye require & demaund, that before ye had requyred, and demaunded. But what shal we do, sinse it was ordeined to your and our woful destenies, that he should loose the bat­taile, and that we of your losse can take no profite. For it is a rule vnfallible, that al that which the gods haue ordeyned, no worldly wight can amende, nor humaine power resist. Ye demaund that warre may cease and leaue of, and that we take truise for .iii. monethes, and that during this time, peace & concord may be concluded. To this we make aunswere. That the senate of Athens hath not accustomed to graunt peace, afterwards for to retourne to warre. For amongest vs Athenians we haue an auncient law, that freely we do accept the cruel warre, and liberallye we doe graunt perpetual peace. In our scoles and vniuersities we trauaile to haue Sages in time of peace, for to helpe vs with their counsayles in the time of warre. And they do coun­saile vs that we neuer take vpon vs truse, vpon suspect condicion. And in dead they counsaile vs well. For the fayned and dyssembled peace is muche more perrillous: then is the manifest warre. The philosopher Heuxinus your embassadour, hath spoken to vs so highly, and eloquentlye in this Senate, that it semed to vs very vniust, if we should deny him, and gaine say that he requireth vs. For it is much more honestye to graunt him peace, whiche by sweete and pleasaunt words doth demaund it: then him which by force and sharpe sword doeth requyreth it. Let the case therfore be, that the Senate, people, and Sages of Athens haue ordeyned, that warre do cease with the Lacedemonians, and that al discordes, contencions, dissentions, and debates do end, & that perpetual peace be graunted vnto them. And this thing is done to the end al the world should know, that Athens is of such courage wythe the hardy, and so very a frend to the Sages: that she knoweth how to pu­nishe the folyshe captaines, and suffereth to be commaunded and gouerned by sage phylosophers. Ye know right wel, that al our warre hath not bene, but only for the possessions of cityes, and lymites of the riuer Milina.

Wherfore by this letter we declare vnto you, and by the immortal Gods we sweare, that we do renownce vnto you al our right, on such condicion, that you do leaue vs Heuxinus your embassadour & philosopher. The great Athens desyreth rather a phylosopher for her scholes: then a hole prouince of your realmes. And do not you other Lacedemonians thinke, that that which we of Athens do, is light or foolishe, that is to wete, that we desire rather one man to rule: then to haue a whole prouynce whereby we may commaunde many. For this philosopher shal teach vs to lyue wel, and that land gaue vs occasion to dye euil: and syth we now of your old enemies do become your true frends, we wyl not onlye geue you perpetual peace, but also counsayle for to keape it, For the medycine which preserueth health, is of greater ex­cellencye: then is the purgacion which healeth the disease. Let the counsaile therfore be suche, that as ye wyll the yonge men do exercise theym selues in [Page 133] weapons: that so ye do watche and se that your children in time do learne good letters. For euen as the warre by the cruell sword is followed: so like­wise by pleasaunt wordes peace is obteyned. Thinke not ye Lacedemonians, that without a cause we do perswade you, that you put youre children to learne, when as yet they are but yong and tender, and that ye do not suffer them to ronne to vyces? For on the one part wise men shall want to coun­saile, and on the other, fooles shal abound to make debate. We Athenians in lyke maner will not that ye Lacedemonians do thinke, that we be frendes to bablers, For our father Socrates ordeyned, that the first lesson which should be geuen to the scholer of the vnyuersity should be, that by no meanes he shold speake any word for the space of ii. yeares: for it is vnpossible that any man should be wise in speaking, vnlesse he haue pacience to be sylente. We thinke, if you thinke it good, that the phylosopher Heuxinus shal remaine in our Se­nate: and thinke you if we profite by his presence, that ye may be assured yee others shal not receyue any domage, by the counsayles he shal geue vs. For in Athens it is an auncient law, that the senate cannot take vpon them war­res, but that by the Philosophers first it must be examined, whither it be iust or not. We write none other thinge, but that we beseche the immortal Gods that they be with you, and that it please theym to contynewe vs in this perpetual peace. For that only is perpetual, which by the gods is con­firmed.

¶That nurces which giue sucke to the children of Princes, ought to be discret, and sage women. Chap. xxvii.

THE pilgrimes which trauaile through vnknowen contries, & straung mountaynes (with great desire to go forward, and not to erre) do not only aske the way which they haue to go: but also do importune those whom they mete, to point them the way with theyr finger. For it is a gre­uous thing, to trauaile doubtfully in feare and suspicion. By this compari­son I meane, that since I haue much perswaded, that the fathers do learne & teach their childrē to speake wel, it is but reason that they do seke them some good maisters. For the counsaile hath no authoritie, if he which geueth it, se­keth not spedely to execute the same. It is much for a man to be of a good nature, or els to be of an euil inclinacion, to be rude in vnderstanding, or els to be lyuely in spirite: and this not only for y^t a man ought to do, but also for that he ought to say, For it is no smal thing, but a great good benefite whē the man is of a good nature, of a good vnderstanding, and of a cleare iudge­mēt. This notwithstandyng I say, that al the good and cleare iudgements, are not alwayes eloquent, nor al the eloquentest, of liuely spirites, and vnder­standing. We se many men which of a smal mater, can make much: & for the contrary we se many men, which haue great knowledge, & yet no meanes to vtter it. So that nature hath geuen them highe vnderstanding, & through negligence of bringinge vp it is hidde, Oftentimes I do meruaile that the soule of the babe when it is borne, for thone parte is of no lesse excellencye: then the soule of the old man when he dyeth. And on the other side I muse at the babe which hath the members so tender (wherwith the soule dooth worke his operacyons) that they lytle seme to participate with reasonable creatures.

[Page]For wher the soule doth not shew her selfe mistres, it wanteth lytle but that the man remaineth a beast.

It is a wonder to se the children, that as yet beinge .ii. yeares of age, they lyft their feete for to go, they hold themselues by the walles for faulyng, they wil open their eyes to know, and they fourme a defused voice to speake: so that in that age, a creature is none otherwise, then a tre at the first spring.

For the tree .ii. moneths being past, beareth leaues immediatly: and the child after ii. yeres beginneth to frame his words. This thing is spoken, for that the Fathers which are wise, should beginne to teache their children at that age: For at that time the vynes beare grapes, and other trees their fruite.

For the perilles of this lyfe are such, that if it were possible, the father before he see his sonne borne, ought to admonishe them how he shold liue. In mine opinion, as they conuey the water about to turne the mille: so from the ten­der youth of the infant, they ought to shew and teach him to be eloquent, & affable. For truly the child learneth distinctly to pronounce his words, when he doth sucke the milke of his nource. We cannot deny, but that the children being but ii. or iii. yeres old, it is to sone to giue them maisters, or correcters. For at that age a nourse to make them cleane is more necessarie: then a mai­ster for to correct their speache. On the one part the children are very tender for to learne to speake wel: and on the other part it is necessarie, that when they are very yong and lytle, they shold be taught and learned. I am of that opinion, that princesses and great Ladyes should take such nources to giue their children sucke: that they should be sound to giue them their milke, and sage for to teache them to speake. For in so yong and tender age they do not suffer, but that she which giueth them sucke, doth teache them to speake the firste wordes. As Sextus Cheronensis in the Booke of the diuersityes of the Languages saythe. The Toscans were the firste whiche called the na­tural tongue of the contrey, the mother tongue (which is to say, the tongue of our mother) to the end we shold take it of the mother which bringeth vs forth: & of the nource whiche giueth vs sucke. And in this case we haue lesse neade of the mother, then of the nourse. For the children before they knowe their mothers, which brought them into the world, do cal y^e nourse mother which gaue them sucke. Plutarche in the second booke of the regiment of princes saith, that one of the greatest thinges the Romaynes had in their comon weale was, that of al the languages & maners which they spake through­out the hole earth, they had Collegies and Scholes in Rome: so that were he neuer so Barbarous that entred into Rome, immedyatly he founde that vnderstoode him.

The Romaynes vsed that craft and subtiltie, to the end that when Rome sent Embassages into straunge countries or that some straunge countries came to Rome, they would that the interpretours and brokers should be of theyr owne nacion and not of a straunge tongue or countrey.

And the Romaynes truly had reasonne, for the affaires of greate impor­taunce, are oftentymes craftely compassed by a straunge tongue.

A manne wil maruaile greately to reade, or heare this that I speake, whyche is, that the women whyche nourishe the children of Prynces be eloquente.

[Page 134]And truly he that at this doth meruaile, hath sene lytle, and read lesse. For I cannot tel which was greater, the glory that the auncientes had to enioy so excellent women: or the infamy of them that are present, to suffer disho­nest harlottes. I wil not deny, when I drew neere this matter, that my spi­rite weare not in great perplexitie. First to se in this my wrytinge, of what women my penne shoulde write, that is to wete, the dissolute vyces of wo­men which I haue sene: or els the prowesses and vertues of women wherof I haue reade. Finally, I am determined to entreate of our graine, and corne, and to leaue the rotten straw on the earth, as without profite. For the tongue which is noble, ought to publyshe the goodnes of the good and ho­nest women, to the end that al know it: for the contrary the frailenes of the wicked ought to be dissembled, and kept secret, to the end that no man folow it. Men which are sage and noble, treating of women, are bounde to serue them, to vysite them, to preserue them, & to defend them: but in no wise they haue licence to sclaunder them. For the man which speaketh of the fraylenes of women, is like vnto him that taketh a sword to kil a flye. Therfore tou­ching the matter, Princesses and great Ladyes ought not to cease to teache their yong children al that they can, sonnes or doughters. And they oughte not to deceiue them selues, saying that forasmuch as their doughters are women, they are vnable to learne sciences. For it is not a general rule, that al mē children are of cleane vnderstanding: nor that al the doughters are of rude spirite and witte. For if they and the others did learne togethers, I thinke there would be as many wise women, as there are foolishe men. Thoughe the world in times past did enioy excellent women, ther was neuer any na­cion had such as the Grekes had. For though the Romaynes were glorious in weapons: the Grekes were of immortal memorie of letters. I wil not denay that in the common wealth of Rome, ther hath not bene nourished, & taught manye women of greate scyence: but that the difference of the one and the others was, that the Grecian women were learned in Philosophy, and the Romaine women in Rethoricke and Poetrie. And hereof came that in Athens they esteamed to know howe to teache well: and in Rome they vaunted how to speake wel. Euphronius in the thirde booke of the Romaine gestes sayth, that in y^e third yere of the Consulshipe of Lelius Sylla, by chaunce a Greke Embassadour and an embassadour of Rome, were at words in the Senate of the Rhodians, and the Greke Embassadour sayd to the Romaine Embassadour. It is true that amongest ye other Romaynes, ye are aduen­turous in armes: but for al that, ye are vnable in scyences. For truly the women of Grece know more in letters: then the men of Rome in weapons.

As sone as the Senate of Rome vnderstode these words, immediatlye hereupon grew the cruel warres betwene Rome and Carthage, about the po­session of Scicil.

And no man ought hereat to meruaile, for in the end we se moe warres aryse by iniurious wordes: then for to recouer the good that is lost. The Ro­maynes and the Grecians therfore being ready the one to defye the other, the Rhodians came in the myddest, and kept them from such debate, and in the end appointed them in this sort.

That is to wete, that as this iniurye should by weapons haue bene de­termined, [Page] they ordeyned that by the disputacions of women it shoulde be argued. And truly the Romaines were counsayled well, for it was greater shame to the Greekes to be ouercome with the tongues of women: then with the swordes of men. The case therof was such, that by appointmente assembled at Rhodes tenne Romaine women, and tenne Greke women. All women very wel learned, the which in their chayres reade certaine les­sons, euery one after other, and afterwardes the one disputed againste the other, of sundry and diuers maters. And finally, there was betwene theym great difference, for the Grekes spake very high thinges, not so profounde, but with an excellent style. We ought not to marueile that such giftes were in those women. For we dayly se it by experience, that profound science, and high eloquence, seldome meeteth in one personage. The Grekes were verye wel pleased, to heare y^e Romaine women: & the Romaines remained astonied to heare y^e Grekes. And vpon this occasion y^e Rhodians iudged in this sort, y^t euery one of them should be crowned with a crowne of Laurel as vanquis­shers. And they iudged, that in graue sentences the Grecians had the best: and in eloquent speache the Romaines had the victorie. As the aboue named Euphronius saythe, these disputacions being ended, the Romaine women re­turned to Rome: and the Greke women to Grece, wher they were receyued with such triumphe and glorie, as if they had wonne a battaile. The senate of the Rhodians for the memorye of those women (in the place of the dispu­tacions) caused to be set vp twenty mighty pyllers, in euery one of the which were the names of the women. Which was so sumptuous a building, that in Rhodes there were none vnto it, saue only the great Collyseo. Those pil­lers stoode vntil the time of Heliogabalus Emperour, who was so euyll that he inuented new vyces, and destroyed the auncient memories. The writers which wrote in that time, declare yet an other thing, wherin the women of Grece were differente from the women of Rome. That is to wete, that the Greke women were found more fayrer, then the Romaine women: but the Romaines had a better grace, and more riche in apparel, then the Grekes. They sayd also that the Grekes were more hardy & stout, then the Romay­nes: but the Romaynes were more honest, pleasaunt, and gracious, then the Grekes. And if this be true, I do counsayle princesses and great Ladyes, that they haue no more enuye at the honesty of the Matrones of Rome: then at the boldnesse of the ladyes of Grecia. For women were not borne to sley men in the warre: but to spinne, sow, and liue wel like good housewiues in the house.

¶That women may be no lesse wise then men, & though they be not, it is not through default of nature, but for want of good bringing vp. Cap. xxviii.

CEasing to speake ingenerally, it is but reason we speake particulerly, and that we reduce to memorye some aunciente histories, of wise and discrete women, aswel Grekes as Romaines: and for that these La­dyes (seing what others were in tymes past) may know what theyr duty is at this present.

In mine opinion, the duty that the mē of this present haue to folow y^e corage that y^e auncients had in fighting: the selfe same desire ought womē of this [Page 135] present to haue, to folow the auncient women in deuout liuing. For ther is no good thinge in the world at this present daye, but the like hath bene sene of our auncients heretofore. When any sodaine new & vnacustomed thing doth happen, men that neuer saw the like, vse to say that there was neuer the lyke in the world, yet in dede they say not true: For though the thinge be vnto them new, it is through their ignoraunce and simplenes whiche ney­ther haue reade it by them selues, nor heard it of others. For this excellencye hath the man that is learned: that for what so euer he heareth or sayth, he is nothing abashed at. Since women now a dayes are so ignoraunt y^t scarce­ly any of them can reade wel, he that shal reade this wil maruaile why I do perswade them to learne. But the truth knowen what the auncients were, and what they did know: from this time forwarde I beleue they woulde greatly reproue the women of this present. For the time which the auncient women spent in vertues and studies: these of this present, consume in plea­sures and vyces. Boccace in the boke of the praise of women sayth, that Lucyus Sylla was a great compagnion of Marius the Consul, in the time of the warre of Iugurtha: and was no lesse a frend of Caius Cesar, in the time of the first ci­uill warres. My penne neadeth not to be ocupied, to write any thing of the life of Sylla. For al y^e historiographers do not only reproue y^e cruelties which he vsed to his enemyes: but also condempne him for the lytle fayth he obser­ued his frends. This Consul Sylla had thre doughters, the one of them was named Lelia Sabyna, the which of al the Sisters was leste fayre, but amon­gest al the Romaines she was most sagest. For she red openly in Rome in a chayre, both Greeke and Latyn. After the warres of Mithridates, Lucius Sylla came to Rome, wher he beheaded thre thousand Romaynes which came to salute him: although before by his word he had assured them al. And in deade, & also iustely Lucius Sylla had bene vtterly vndone for his fact, if his dough­ter had not made to the Senate a wise oration: For oft times it chaunceth that the wisedome of the good child, doth remedy the follye of the wicked-Father. The historians say, that this Lelya Sabyna had not only a great grace in readyng: but also she had much excellency in writing. For she wrote ma­ny letters and Orations with her owne hand, which her Father Lucius Sylla afterwardes learned by hart: and as he was in dede quycke of sprite, so he vsed to recyte them to the Senate alwaies for his purpose.

And let no man maruaile hereat, for ther are some of so grose vnderstāding that that which they write and study, they can scarsely vtter: and others a­gaine are of such lyuely wyttes, that of that onely which they haue heard, it seameth meruailous to heare with what eloquence they wil talke. Bycause Sylla had such and so excellent a doughter in his house, he was esteamed for a sage and wise Councellour throughout al the common wealth.

He was counted verye absolute in executing, strong in mayntaynynge, and for right eloquent in speakinge. Finally, of this came thys auncyente, prouerbe which sayth. Lucius Sylla gouerneth his owne countreye wyth the eloquence of hys Tongue: and is Lorde of straunge nacions by the force of his sworde.

What the great Plato hath bene, and what great aucthoritie he hath had amongest his countrie men and amongest the straungers it is apparent: for [Page] so much as the Greekes do acknowledge him of al other Philosophers to be the Prince: and likewise the Latynes by one consent cal him deuine.

And me thinketh that in doing this, they do no philosopher iniurie: for as Plato in his lyfe time had great modestie, so truly in his writing he exceaded mans capacitie. And Historian called Hyzearchus, declareth that Lasterna and Ax [...]othea were two Grekes very well learned, and amongest the scollers of Plato chiefely renowmed. The one was of so parfect a memorie, & the other of so high an vnderstanding, that Plato oft times beinge in the chayre (and these two not ready) he would not beginne to read. And being asked wher­fore he read not his lecture, he aunswered? I wil not read, for that ther wanteth here vnderstanding to conceiue, and also memorie to retaine. Meaning that Lasterna was absent, that Axiothe was not yet come. The wisedome of those two women ought to be much, synce Plato without them woulde not vtter one word, vnlesse they were present in his schole. For Plato esteamed more the vnderstandyng and memorye of those two women alone: then he did the Phylosophy of his other Scollers together. Aristippus the philosopher was Scholler to Socrates, and of the moste renowmed of Athens. He had a doughter called Aretha, the which was so wel learned in Greke and Latyn letters, that the common renowne said, the soule of Socrates was entred in­to Aretha: and the cause that moued them to say this was, because she redde and declared the doctrine of Socrates in such wise, that it seamed to most men she had rather write by hand, then learne by study. Boccace in the second boke of the praise of women sayth, that this Aretha was so excellent a woman, y^t she did not only learne for her selfe, but also to teache others: & did not only teache in diuers Scholes, but also she wrote many and sundry bookes, one inespecially in the prayse of Socrates, an other of the maner of bringing vppe children, an other of the warres of Athens, an other of the tyrannical force, an other of the common wealth of Socrates, an other of the infelicities of womē, an other of the Tyllage of the auncientes, an other of the wōders of mount Olympus, an other of the vaine care of the Sepulcre, an other of the prouisiō of the Antes, an other of the workmanshippe of the Bees in honnye: and she wrote two others the one of the vanities of youth, and the other of the mi­series of age. This woman dyd read openly natural & morall Phylosophye in the Scholes of Athens, for the space of fiue & twenty yeres: she made forty bookes, she had a hundred & tenne philosophers to her Scholers, she dyed being at the age of seuentie and seuen yeres, & the Athenians after her death, engraued on her graue these words.

As Marcus Varro sayeth, the sectes of the philosophers were more then .lxx. but in the ende they were reduced into seuen, and in the ende they were brought into thre sects chiefly. That is to wete, Stoicques, Peripaeticques, and Pithagoricques. Of these pithagoricques, Pithagoras was the prince. Hy­zearcus, Annius Rusticus and Laertius, with Eusebius and Boccace, all affirme one thinge, whereunto I did not greatly geue credite, which is: that this philo­sopher Pithagoras had a sister, not onely learned, but (if it be lawfull to speake it) excellently learned. And they saye, that not she of Pithagoras, but Pithagoras of her learned philosophie. And of truthe it is a matter whereof I was so greatly abashed, that I can not tell who could be maister of such a woman: since she had Pithagoras the great philosopher to her scholler. The name of the woman was Theoclea, to whom Pithagoras her brother, wrote & sent a letter, when he red philosophie at Rhodes, and she at Samothracia doinge the like. The Pistle was thus as foloweth.

¶Of a letter whiche Pithagoras sent to his sister Theoclea, he being in Rhodes, & she in Samothracia, reading both philosophie. Cap. xxix.

PIthagoras thy brother, and disciple, to thee Theoclea his sister, health and increase of wisedome wysheth. I haue red the booke whiche thou did­dest sende me, of fortune and misfortune, from the beginning to the end: and nowe I knowe that thou art no lesse graue in making, then gracious in teaching. The which doth not chaunce very oft to vs, which are men: and much lesse (as we haue sene) to you women. For the philosopher Aristippus was rude in speaking, & profound in writing: & Amenides was briefe in wry­ting, and eloquent in speaking. Thou hast studied and written in such sorte, that in the learning that thou shewest, thou seamest to haue read all the phi­losophers: and in the antiquities that thou doest declare, it semeth that thou hast sene all the time past. Wherein thou beinge a woman shewest thy selfe more then a woman: because the nature of women is, to caste their eies on­ly in that that is present, and commonly to forget that that is past. They tell me that thou doest occupye thy selfe nowe in writing of our countrey. And truly in this case I can not say but that you haue matter enough to wryte on: For the warres and trauayles of our tymes haue bene suche, and so great, that I had rather reade them in bookes, then see them with my eyes. And if it be so, as I suppose it is, I beseche thee hartely, and by the immortall [Page] Gods I coniure thee, that in writing the affaires of thy coūtrey thou doest vse thy penne discreatly. I meane, that thou doe not in this case bleamyshe thy wryting, by putting therein any flatterie, or lesinge. For oftetimes Histo­riographers, in blasinge more then trouth the giftes of their countrey: cause worthely to be suspected their wryting. Thou knowest very well, how that in the battayle paste the Rhodians were ouercome, and that ours remained victorious. Me thinketh thou shouldest not in this case greatly magnifie, extolle, or exalt ours, because in the ende they fought to reuenge their iniury: neither thou oughtest to blame the Rhodians, for they did not fight but in the ayde of Rome. I speake this (my Syster) because for to defende their own, women shewe them selues Lyons: and for to defende the thinges of an o­ther man, men shew them selues chickens. For in the ende he onely maye be counted strong, the whiche defendeth not his owne house: but which dieth defending his, and another mans. I wyll not denie the naturall loue of my countrey, nor I wyll not denie but that I loue them that wryte, and speake well thereof: but me thinketh it is not reason, that they should disprayse the goodnesse and truthe of other countries, nor that they should so highly co­mend the euill and vilenes of their owne. For there is not in the world this daye so barren a Realme, but maye be commended for some thing therein: nor there is so perfite a nation, but in some thinges maye be reproued. Thou canst not deny me, but that amongest thy brethren I am the eldest, and thou canste not deny but that amongest all thy disciples I am the yongest: and since that for being thy disciple I ought to obey thee, thou like wyse for that I am thy eldest brother oughtest to beleue me. By the fayeth of a people I doe councell thee, my syster, that thou doe trauayle muche to be profound in thy words, vpright in thy life, and honest of thy persone: and besides al this, true in thy writing. For I let thee vnderstande, that if the body of the man without the soule is litle regarded: I sweare vnto thee that the mouthe of a man, without truthe, is muche lesse esteamed.

¶The authour foloweth his purpose, perswading princesses and other ladies to endeuour them selues to be wyse, as the women were in olde tyme. Cap. xxx.

THis therefore was the letter, the whiche Pithagoras sente to his syster Theoclea, whereby is shewed the great humilitie of him, and the hyghe eloquence of her. Hiarcus the Greke, and Plutarche also in the booke of the gouernement of princes saye, that Pithagoras had not onely a sister (whiche was called Theoclea) of whom he learned so muche philosophie, but also he had a doughter, the wisedome and knowledge of whome surmounted her aunte, and was equall to her father. I thinke it no lesse vncredible which is spoken of the doughter, then that whiche is spoken of the aunte, whiche is that those of Athenes did reioyce more to heare her speake in her house, then for to heare Pithagoras reade in the schole. And it ought to be beleued: for the saying of the graue authours on the one parte: and by that we dayly see on the other parte. For in the ende, it is more pleasure to heare a man tell mery tales, hauing grace and comlines in his wordes: then to heare a graue man speake the truthe, with a rude and rough tongue. I haue founde in many wrytinges, what they haue spoken of Pithagoras, and his doughter: but none [Page 137] telleth her name, saue only in a pistle that Phalaris the tyraunt wrate, I foūd this word written, where he saith. Polichrata, that was the doughter of the philosopher Pithagoras, was young, and exceading wyse, more faire then riche and was so much honoured for the puritie of her life, and so high estemed for her pleasaunt tongue: that the worde which she spake spinning vpon her di­staffe, was more estemed: then the philosophy that her father red in the schole. And he sayd more. It is so great a pitie to see, and heare that women at this present are in their life so dishonest, & in their tongues so malicious: that I haue greater pleasure in the good renowme of one that is dead, then in the infamie of all them which are aliue. For a good woman is more worth with her distaffe spinning, then a hundred euel queenes, with their roiall scepters reigning. By the wordes which Phalaris saied in his letter, it seamed that this doughter of Pithagoras was called Polichrate. Pithagoras therefore made many commentaries, as wel of his owne countrey, as of straungers. In the end he died in Mesopotamia, where at the houre of his death he spake vnto his doughter Polichrate, & saied these wordes. I see my doughter that the houre wherein I must ende my life approcheth. The Gods gaue it me, and nowe they wil take it from me: nature gaue me birth, & now she geueth me death: the earth gaue me the body, and now it retourneth to ashes. The woful fa­tall destinies gaue me a litle goodes, mingled with manie trauailes, so that (doughter) of all thinges which I enioyed in this world, I cary none with me: for hauing all as I had it, by the waye of borowyng: nowe at my death eche man taketh his owne. I die ioyfully not for that I leaue thee riche: but for that I leaue thee learned. And in token of my tender harte, I bequethe vnto the al my bookes, wherin thou shalt finde the treasure of my trauailes. And I tel thee that that I geue thee, is the riches gotten with mine owne sweat: and not obtained to the preiudice of an other. For the loue I beare vnto thee, doughter I pray thee, and by the immortall gods I coniure thee, that thou be such, & so good, that althoughe I die, yet at the least thou mayst kepe my memory: for thou knowest wel what Ho [...]ere saieth, speaking of A­chilles, and Pirrus, that the good life of the childe that is aliue, keapeth the re­nowme of the father that is dead. These were the wordes which this philo­sopher spake vnto his doughter lieng in his death bed. And though perhaps he spake not these wordes: yet at the least this was the meaning. As y^e great poet Mantuan saieth, king Euander was father of the giant Pallas, and he was a great frende of king Eneas, he vaunted him selfe to discend of the linage of the Troyans: and therfore when king Eneas, & prince Turnus, had great warres betwene them, which of them should haue the princesse Lauinia in mariage, (the which at y^t time was only heire of Italy) king Euander ayded Eneas, not only with goodes: but also sending him his owne sonne in persone. For the frendes ought for their true frendes, willingly to shed their bloud, & in their behalfe without demaūding, thei ought also to spend their goods. This king Euander had a wyfe so well learned, that that which the Grekes saied of her semeth to be fables. That is to say (of her eloquence & wisdome) for they say, that if that which this woman wrote of the warres of Troye, had not bene through enuy cast into the fire: the name of Homere had at this day remained obscure. The reason hereof is, because the woman was in the time of the de­struction of Troy, and wrate as a witnes of sight.

[Page]These wordes passed betwene the Romaine Calphurnius and the poet Cor­nificius. I desire to declare the excellency of those fewe auncient women (as wel Grekes, as Latines, & Romaines) to thintent that princesses, and great ladies may knowe, that the auncient women were more esteamed for their sciences, then for their beauties. Therefore the princesses and great Ladies ought to thinke that if they be women, they were also in lyke maner: and if they be frayle, the others were also weake. If they be maried, the other also had husbandes: if they haue their wylles, the other had also what they wan­ted: if they be tender, the others were not strong: Finally they ought not to excuse them selues, saying that for to learne women are vnmete. For a wo­man hath more abilitie to learne sciences in the scholes: then the Parate hath to speake wordes in the cage. In my opinion princesses & great ladies ought not to esteame thēselues more then an other, for that they haue fairer heares then other, or for that they are better appareled then an other: or that they haue more ryches then an other. But they ought therfore to esteame them selues, not for that they can doe more then others. To say the truth, the faire and yelow heares, the riche and braue apparel, the great treasures, the sump­tuous palaces and strong buildinges, these and other like pleasures are not guides and leaders to vertues, but rather spies & scout watches for vices. O what a noble thinge were it, that the noble ladies would esteme them selues not for that they can doe: but for that that they knowe. For it is more commendation to knowe howe to teache twoo philosophers: then to haue authoritie to commaunde a hundred knightes. It is a shame to write it, but it is more pitie to see it, that is to wete, to read that we read of the wisdome and worthines of the auncient matrones paste, and to see as we doe see the frailenes of these younge ladies present. For they coueted to haue disciples both learned and experimented: and these of this present desire nothing but to haue seruauntes not only ignoraunt, but deceitful and wicked. And I do not marueile seing that which I se, that at this present in court she is of litle value & lest estemed among ladies, which hath fairest seruauntes, & is lest en­terteined of gentlemen. What shall I say more in this matter but that they in times past striue who should write better, & compile the best bookes: and these at this presente doe not striue, but who shal haue the richest and most sumptuous apparel. For the ladies thinke it a iolier matter, to weare a gown of a new fachion: then the auncientes did to read a lesson of philosophie. The auncient ladies striue whiche of them was wisest: but these of our daies cō ­tend who shalbe fairest. For at this day y^e ladies would chose rather to haue the face adorned with beautie, then the heart endued with wisedome. The auncient ladies contented which should be better able to teache others: but these ladies nowe a daies contend how they may moste finely apparel them selues. For in these daies they geue more honour to a woman richely appare­led, then they geue to an other with honestie beautified. Finally with this worde I doe conclude, and let him marke that shall reade it, that in the olde time women were such, that their vertues caused al men to kepe silence: and now their vices be such, that they cōpell al men to speake. I will not by this my word any man should be so bolde in generally to speake euil of all the la­dies: for in this case I sweare, y^t there are not at this day so many good ver­tuous women in y^e world: but that I haue more enuy at the life they lead in [Page 139] secreat, then at al the sciences whiche the auncient women red in publike. Wherfore my pen doth not shewe it selfe extreme, but to those which onely in sumptuous apparell and in vayne wordes do consume their whole lyfe: and to those whiche in readyng a good boke wold not spend one only houre. To proue my intencion of that I haue spoken, the aboue written suffiseth. But to the ende princesses and great ladies maye se (at the lest) howe muche better it shalbe for them to know litel, then to haue and possesse much, and to be able to do more. I will remembre thē of that whych a Romaine woman wrate to her children, wherby they shal perceyue how eloquent a woman she was in her sayinges, and how true a mother in her counsel. For in the end of her letter she perswadeth her children to the trauailes of the warre, not for any other cause, but to auoyd the pleasures of Rome.

Of the worthines of the ladye Cornelia, and of a notable epistle she wrote to her .ii. sonnes which serued in the warres Tyberius, and Caius diswadyng them from the pleasures of rome, and exorting them to endure the trauailes of warre. Chap. xxxi.

ANnius Rusticus in the boke of the antiquities of the Romaines saith, that in Rome ther wer .v. principal linages, that is to wete Fabritij, Torquatij, Brutij, Fabij, and Cornelij, thoughe there were in Rome other newe lina­ges, wherof ther were many excellent personages: yet alwayes these which came of the .v. linages, were kept, placed, and preferred to the first offices of the common wealth. For Rome honored those that were present in such sort, that it was without the preiudice of those that are gone. Amongest those .v. linages, the romaines alwayes counted the Cornelij most fortunat, the which were so hardy and couragious in fight, and so modest in lyfe, that of theyr familie there was neuer found any cowardly man in the feld, nor any defa­med woman in the towne. They saye of this linage of the Cornelij, amonge many other there were .iiii. singular and notable women among the whiche the chiefe was the mother of Gracchi whose name was Cornelia and liued with more honour for the sciences she red in Rome, then for the conquestes that her children had in Affricke. Before her children wer brought into the em­pire, they talked of none other thing but of their strēgth & hardines, through­out all the worlde: and therfore a Romaine one daye asked this woman Cor­nelia, wherof she toke most vaine glory, to se her selfe mistres of so many di­sciples, or mother of so valiant children. The lady Cornelia aunswered. I doe esteme the science more whiche I haue learned, then the Children whyche I haue brought forth. For in the end, the children kepe in honour the lyfe: but the disciples continue the renowne after the death.

And she sayd further. I am assured that the disciples dayly will waxe bet­ter and better: and it maye bee that my Children wil waxe worse and worse. The desyres of yong men are so variable, that they daily haue newe inuen­tions. With one accord all the wryters do greatly commende this woman Cornelia, inespecially for being wyse and honest, and furthermore bycause shee red philosophy in Rome openlye.

And therfore after her death they set vp in Rome a Statue, ouer the gate Salaria, whereupon there was grauen this Epigrame.

AMong the latines, Cicero was the Prince of al the Romaine rethorike, and the chiefest with his pen inditing of Epystles: yet they say, that he did not only se the writinges of this Cornelia, but red them, and did not onely read them, but also with the sentences therof profited him selfe. And hereof a man ought not to meruaile: for there is no man in the world so wise of him selfe, but may furder his doynges with the aduice of another, Cicero so highly exalted these writinges, that he said in his rethorike these or such other like wordes. If the name of a woman had not bleamyshed Cornelia, truly she deserued to be head of all philosophers. For I neuer sawe so graue sentences procede from so fraile flesh. Since Cicero spake these wordes of Cornelia, it can not be, but that the writinges of such a woman in her time were very liuely, and of great reputacion yet notwithstāding there is no memory of her, but that an author for his purpose declareth an epistel of this maner. Sextus Che­ronensis in his booke of the prayse of women, reciteth the letter whiche she sente to her children. She remaynyng in Rome, and they beyng at the war­res in Affrike.

Of the education and doctrine of children whiles they are yong. Wherein the auctour declareth many notable histories. Chap. xxxii.

ALl mortall men which will trauell, and see good fruite of their trauell, ought to do as the chefe artificer did that painted the world: For y^e man that maketh god the head of his workes, it is vnpossible that he should erre in the same. That whych we beleue, and reade by wrytinge, is that the eternall created the world in short space by his mighte: but preserued it a lōg time by his wisedome. Wherof a man may gather, that the time to do a thing is short: but the care and thought to preserue it, is long. We see daily, that a valiaunt captaine assaulteth his enemies: but in the end it is god that giueth the victorye, but let vs aske the conquerour, what trauell it hath bene vnto him, or wherin he hath perceaued most daunger (that is to wete) either to ob­teine the victory of his enemies, or els to preserue them selues amongest the enuious and malicious. I sweare, and affirme, that such a knight wil swere, that ther is no comparison betwene the one and the other: for by the bloudy sweard in an houre the victorye is obteined: but to kepe it with reputation, the swete of al the life is required Laertius in the booke of the lyfe of the philo­phers declareth, and Plato also hereof maketh mention, in the bookes of hys common wealth, that those of Thebes vnderstandyng that the Lacedemonians hadde good lawes (for that whych they were of the godes fauoured, and of menne greatly honoured) determined to send (by common assent and agree­ment) a wise philosopher, the beste esteamed amongest them (whose name was Phetonius) to whome they commaunded, that he should aske the lawes of the Lacedemonians, and that he shoulde be verye circumspecte and ware to see what their rules and customes were.

[Page]Those of Thebes were then very noble, valliant, and honest: so that their prin­cipal end was, to come to honour & renowme, to erect buildinges, & to make them selues of immortall memory for beyng vertuous. For in buildyng they were very curious: and for vertues they had good Philosophers. The philo­sopher Phetonius was more thē a yeare in the realme of the Lacedemonians, be­holding at sondry times all thinges therin: for simple men do not note thin­ges, but onely to satisfye the eyes: but the wise menne beholdeth them, for to know and vnderstand their secrettes. After that the philosopher had well & plainely sene and behelde all the thinges of the Lacedemonians: he determined to returne home to Thebes, and beyng arriued, all the people came to see him and here him. For the vanitie of the common people is of such a qualitie, that it foloweth new inuentions: and despiseth auncient customes. All the people therfore gathered togethers, the good philosopher Phetonius set vp in the mid­dest of the market place a gybet, hoote yrons, a swerd, a whip, and fetters for the feete: the whiche thyng done, the Thebains were no lesse as they thought slaundered, thē abashed. To the which he spake these wordes. You Thebains sente me to the Lacedemonians, to the entent I should learne their lawes and customes, and in dede I haue bene ther more then a yere, beholdyng al thin­ges very diligentely: for we Philosophers are bound, not onely to note that whyche is done, but also to know why it is done knowe ye Thebains, that this in the aunswere of my Imbassage.

That the Lacedemonians hang vpon this Gybet theues, with this same sworde they behede traytors, with these hoote Irons they torment blasphe­mers, and lyers, with these roddes they whippe vacabondes, and with these Irons do keape the rebels, and the others are for players, and vnthriftes. Fi­nally I say that I do not bryng you the lawes written, but I bring you the Instrumentes wherwith they are obserued.

The Thebains were abashed to se these thinges, and spake vnto hym such wordes. Consider Phetonius wee haue not sent the to the Lacedemonians, to bring instrumentes to take away life: but for the good lawes to gouerne the common wealth. The philosopher Phetonius replyed again, & aunswered. The­bains, I let you wete, that if ye know what we philosophers knew, you shold see how far your mindes wer from the truth: For the Lacedemonians are not so vertuous, thoroughe the lawes whych wer made of them that be dead: as for the meanes they haue sought, to preserue them that be alyue. For maters of Iustice consiste more in execution, then in commaundyng or ordeinynge. Lawes are easely ordeyned, but with difficultie executed: for there are a thou­sande to make them, but to put them in execution there is not one. Ful lytle is that whych men knowe that are present: in respect of that those knewe which are past. But yet accordyng to my litle knowledge, I proffer to gyue as good lawes to you Thebains, as euer wer obserued among y^e Lacedemoniās. For there is nothing more easy, then to know the good: and nothynge more commen, then to folow the euill. But what profiteth it if one will ordeyne, and none vnderstand it: Yf ther be that doth vnderstand thē, there is none that excuteth them. Yf there be that executeth them, there is none that obser­ueth thē. Yf there be one that obserueth them, ther is a thousand that repro­ueth them. For without comparison, mo are they that murmure & grudge [Page 143] at the good, then those whych blame and despise the euyll. You Thebains are offended, bycause I haue brought suche Instrumentes but I let you wete, if you wyll neyther Gybet, nor sworde to kepe that which shalbe ordeyned, you shall haue your bookes full of lawes, and the common wealth full of vices.

Wherfore I sweare vnto you, that there are mo Thebains whiche folowe the deliciousnes of Denis the tyraunt: then there are vertuous men that folowe the lawes of Lycurgus. If you Thebains do desire greatly to know, with what Lawes the Lacedemonians: doe preserue their common wealthe: I will tel you them all by worde, and if you will reade them, I will shew you them in wri­tyng. But it shalbe vpon condition, that you shall sweare all openly, that once a daye you shall employ your eyes to reade them, and your parsonnes to obserue them. For the prince hath greater honour, to se one onely law to be obserued in dede: then to ordeyne a thousand by wryting. You ought not to esteame muche to be vertuous in harte, nor to enquire of the vertue by the mouth, nor to seeke it by labour and trauaille of the feete: but that whyche you ought greatly to esteame, is to know what a vertuous lawe meaneth, and that knowen, immediatly to execute it, and afterwardes to kepe it. For the chefe vertue is not to do one verteous work: but in swet and trauayl to continue in it. These therfore wer the wordes that this philosopher Phetonius sayde to the Thebains. The whyche (as Plato sayeth) estemed more his wordes that he spake: then they dyd the lawes whyche he brought. Truly in my opi­nion, those of Thebes are to be praysed and commended: and the philosopher for his wordes is worthy to be honoured. For the end of those was to searche lawes to liue well, and the ende of the Philosophet was to seke good mea­nes for to kepe them in vertue. And therfore he thought it good to shew thē, and put before their eyes the gibbet, and the sword, with the other instrumen­tes and tormentes. For the euill do refraine from vice more for feare of pu­nyshement, then for any desire they haue of amendement. I was willyng to bring in this Historie, to thende that all curious and vertuous men may see and know, how litell the auncientes did esteme the beginnynge, the meane, and the ende of vertuous workes, in respect of the perseueraunce and preser­uacion of them. Commyng therfore to my matter, whych my pen doth tosse and seke: I aske now presentely, what it profiteth princes and great ladyes, that God do gyue them great estates, that they be fortunate in mariages, that they be all reuerenced and honored, that they haue great treasures for their inheritaunces, and aboue al that they se their wiues great with child, & that afterwardes in ioy they se them deliuered: that they se theyr mothers ge­uing their childrē sucke, & finally they se them selues happy in that they haue found them good nources, helthful & honest. Truely al this auaileth litle, if to their children (when they are yong) they do not giue masters to enstruct thē in vertues: and also if they do not recomend them to good guides, to exercise thē in feates of Chiualry. The fathers which by syghes penetrat the heauē: by prayers importune the Liuing god only for to haue children, ought first to thinke why they wil haue childrē: for that iustly to any man may be denayed, which to an euil end is procured. In my opinion, y^e father ought to desire to haue a child, for y^t in his age he may susteine his life in honour: & that after his doth he may cause his fame to liue. And if a father desireth not a son for this [Page] cause, at the least he ought to desire him, to the end in his age he may honour his horye hed: and that after his death he may enheryte his goodes, but wee see few children do these thynges to their fathers in theyr age: if the fathers haue not taught them in their youth. For the fruite doeth neuer grow in the haruest: vnlesse the tree dyd bere blosommes in the spryng. I see oftentimes many fathers complaine of their Children, sayenge that they are disobedient and proude vnto theim: and they doe not consydre that they them selues are the cause of all those euilles. For to moch aboundaunce and libertie of youth is no other: but a prophesie & manifest token of disobedience in age. I knowe not why princes and great lordes do toile, and oppresse so much, and scratche to leaue their children great estates, and on the other syde we see that in tea­chyng them, they are and shew theim selues to negligent: for princes & great lordes ought to make account, that all y^t whych they leaue of their substaunce to a wicked heyre is vtterly lost. The wise men, and those which in their cō ­sciences are vpright, and of their honours carefull, oughte to be very diligent to bring vp their children, & chiefly that they consyder whether they be mete to inherite their estates. And if perchaunce the fathers se that their children be more giuē to follie, then to noblenes and wysdome: then should I be asha­med to se a father that is wise, trauaile al the dayes of his life, to leaue much substaunce to an euill brought vp child after his death. It is a griefe to de­clare, and a monstrous thyng to se, y^e cares whych the fathers take to gather ryches: and the diligence that children haue to spende them. And in this case I saye, the sonne is fortunate for that he doeth inherite, and the Father a foole for that he doth bequeth.

In my opinion Fathers ar bound to enstructe theyr Children well, for two causes: the one for that they are nearest to them, and also bycause they ought to be theyr heyres. For truely with great greyfe and sorow I suppose he doth take his death: which leaueth to a foole or an vnthrifte the toile of all his life.

Hyzearcus the Greeke hystorien in the booke of his antiquities, and Sabel­lyquus in his generall history sayeth, that a father and a sonne came to com­plaine to the famous phylosopher and auncient Solon Solinon: the sonne com­playned of the father, and the father of the sonne.

First the son informed the quarel to y^e Phylosopher, sayeng these wordes. I complayne of my father, bycause he beyng ryche hath dysheryted me, and made me poore, and in my steade hath adopted another heyre, the whyche thyng my father oughte not, nor cannot doe. For sence he gaue me so frayle flesh, it is reason he geue me hys goods to maintayne my feblenes. To these wordes aunswered the father. I complayne of my sonne, bycause he hathe not bene as a gentle sonne, but rather as a cruell enemye, for in all thynges since he was borne, he hath bene disobedient to my will, wherfore I thought it good to dysheryte hym before my death. I woulde I we [...]e quite of all my substaunce, so that the goddes hadde quyte hym of hys lyfe: for the earthe is very cruell that swalloweth not the chyld alyue, whyche to hys father is dy­sobedyent. In that he sayeth I haue adopted another chyld for myne heyre, I confesse it is true: and for somuche as he sayeth that I haue dysinheryted hym, and abiected hym from my herytage, he beynge begotten of my owne bodye, hereunto I aunswere.

[Page 144]That I haue not disinheryted my sonne, but I haue disinheryted his plea­sure, tothentent he shal not enioy my trauaile: for there can be nothing more vniust, then that the yonge and vitious sonne should take his pleasure, of the swette and droppes of the aged father. The sonne replyed to his father, and sayd. I confesse I haue offended my father, and also I confesse that I haue lyued in pleasures: yet if I maye speake the trueth, thoughe I were disobe­dient and euill, my father oughte to beare the blame: and if for this cause he doeth dysherite me, I thynke he doth me great iniurye. For the father that enstructed not hys sonne in vertue in hys youthe: wrongfullye dysheryteth hym, though he be disobedient in hys age. The father agayne replyeth, and saieth. It is true my sonne, that I brought the vp to wantonly in thy youth, but thou knowest well that I haue taughte the sondrye tymes, and besy­des that I dyd correcte the when thou camest to some discretion. And if in thy youth I dyd not instructe the in learnyng, it was for that thou in thy tender age dydest wante vnderstandyng: but after that thou haddest age to vnderstand, discrecion to receiue, and strength to exercyse it: I began to pu­nyshe the, to teache the, and to instructe the. For where no vnderstandyng is in the chyld, there in vaine they teache doctrine. Sence thou arte old (quoth the sonne) and I yong, sence thou arte my father, and I thy sonne, for that thou hast whyte heres of thy bearde, and I none at all: it is but reason that thou be beleued, & I condemned. For in this world we se oftetimes, that the smal aucthoryty of the parson, maketh hym to lose hys great iustyce. I graūt the (my father) that when I was a childe, thou dydst cause me to learne to reade: but thou wylte not denye, that if I dyd cōmit any faulte, thou woul­dest neauer agree I should be punyshed. And hereof it came, that thou suffe­ryng me to doe what I woulde in my youth, haue bene dysobedient to the euer since in my age. And I saye to the further, that if in this case I haue of­fended trulye me thinketh thou canst not be excused: for the fathers in the youthe of their children, oughte not onely to teache them to dispute of ver­tues, and what vertue is: but they ought to inforce them to be vertuous in dede. For it is a good token when youth (before they know vyces) hath bene accustomed to practice vertues. Both parties thou diligentlie hard, the good Philosopher Solon Solinon spake these wordes I geue iudgement that the fa­ther of thys child be not buried after hys death: and I commaunde that the sonne, bycause in hys youth he hath not obeyed his father who is olde, should be dysinheryted whiles the father lyueth from all hys substaunce, on suche condition, that after hys death, hys sonnes should inheryte the heritage, and so returne to the heires of the sonne and line of the father. For it were vniust, that the innocencie of the sonne should be condempned, for the offence of the father. I doe commaunde also, that all the goods be committed vnto some faithful parson, to thend they may geue the father meate and drinke durynge hys lyfe, and to make a graue for the sonne after hys death. I haue not with out a cause geuen suche iudgement, the which comprehendeth lyfe and death: for the Gods wyll not, that for one pleasure the punyshement be double, but that we chastyse and punyshe the one in the lyfe, takynge from hym hys ho­nour and goods: and that we punyshe others after there death, takyng from them memorye and buriall.

[Page]Truly the sentence which the Philosopher gaue was graue, and would to God we had him for a iudge of this world presentlye: for I sweare, that he should finde many children now a dayes for to disheryte, and mo fathers to punishe. For I cannot tell which is greater, the shame of the children to diso­bey their fathers: or the negligence of the fathers in bringing vp their childrē. Sextus Cheronensis in the second boke of the sainges of the Philosophers decla­reth, that a citezen of Athens sayed on daye to Dyogenes the Phylosopher these wordes. Tel me Diogenes, what shall I doe to be in the fauour of the gods, and not in the hatred of men? for oft tymes amonges you Philoso­phers I haue hard saye, that there is great difference betwene that that the Goddes wil, and that which men loue. Diogenes aunswered. Thou speakest more then thoughtest to speake, that the gods will one thinge, and men ano­ther: for the gods are but as a center of mercy, and men are but as a denne of malice, if thou wilte inioye rest in thy dayes, and keape thy lyfe pure and cleane: thou must obserue these thre thinges.

The first, honour thy gods deuoutly. For the man which doeth not serue and honour the gods, in all his enterprises he shalbe vnfortunate.

The second, be very diligent to bring vp thy children well. For the man hath no enemy so troublesome, as his owne son, if he be not wel brought vp.

The third thyng, be thankefull to thy good benefactours and frendes. For the Oracle of Apollo sayeth, that the man who is vnthankefull, of all the worlde shalbe abhorred. And I tell the further my frend, that of these thre thinges the most profitable (though it be more troblesome) is for a manne to teache and bring vp his children well.

This therefore was the aunswere that the Philosopher Diogenes made to the demaunde of the Cytezen. It is great pytie and griefe, to see a yonge child how the bloud doth stirre him, to se how the fleshe doth prouoke him to accomplishe his desire, to se sensualyte go before, and he himselfe to come be­hinde, to se the malicious world to watche him, to se howe the deuill doth tempt him, to se how vyces bynde him, and in all that whych is spoken, to se how the father is negligent as if he had no children: wher as in deed the old man, by the few vertues that he hath had in his youth: may easely know the infirmites and vices, wherewith his sonne is compassed. If the expert had neuer ben ignoraunt, if the fathers had neuer ben children, if the vertuous had neuer ben vicious, if the fyne wittes had neuer ben deceiued, it were no meruaile if the Fathers were negligent in teachyng their children. For the lytell experience excuseth men of great offences: but synce thou arte a father, and that fyrst thou were a sonne, synce thou arte old, and hast ben yong, and besides al this, synce that pride hath enflamed the, lechery hath burned the, wrath hath wounded the, negligēce hath hindred the, couetousnes hath blin­ded the, and glotonie surfeted the, tell me cruell father, since so manye vices haue reigned in y^e: why hast thou not an eye to thy childe, whom of thy owne bloud thou hast begotten? And if thou doest it not bycause he is thy childe, thou oughtest to do it bycause he is thy nearest. For it is vnpossible that the child whych with many vyces is assaulted, and not succoured: but in the end he should be infamed and to the dishonour of y^e father most wickedly ouer­come. It is vnpossible to kepe flesh well fauored, vnlesse it be first salted. It is [Page 145] vnpossible that the fishe should liue without water. It is vnpossible but that the Rose should wyther, whiche is of the thorne ouergrowen. So like it is vnpossible that the fathers should haue any comforte of their chyldren in their age, vnlesse they haue instructed them in vertue in their youth. And to speake further in this matter I saye, that in the Christian catholike reli­gion, where in dede there is good doctrine, ther alwayes is supposed to be a good conscience. Amongest the wryters it is a thinge well knowen, howe Eschines, the philosopher was banished from Athens, and with all his family came to dwell at Rhodes. The occasion was, because that he and the philoso­pher Demosthenes were in great contention in the common wealth. Where­fore the Athenians determined to banish the one, and to keape the other with them. And truly they dyd well, for of the contentions and debates of sages, warres most commonly aryse amongest the people. This philosopher Eschi­nes being at Rhodes banished, amongest others made a solempne oration, wherein he greatly reproueth the Rhodians that they were so negligente in brynging vp their children, saiyng vnto them these wordes. I let you vnder­stande (Lordes of Rhodes) that your predecessours aduaunced them selues to discende, and to take their beginning of the Lides: the whiche aboue all o­ther nations were curious and diligent to bring vp their children: and here­of came a lawe that was among them, which sayed.

We ordeine and commaunde, that if a father haue many chyldren, that the moste vertuous should enherite the goods, and riches: and if there were but one vertuous, that he alone should inherite the whole. And if perchaūce the children were vitious, that then al should be depriued from the heritage. For the goods gotten with trauaile of vertuous fathers, ought not by rea­son to be inherited with vitious children. These were the wordes that the philosopher spake to the Senate of the Rhodes: and because he sayde in that Oration many other thinges whiche touche not our matter, I wyll in this place omitte them. For among excellent wryters, the wryting loseth muche authoritie, when the authour from his purpose digresseth into an other mat­ter. To saye the truthe, I doe not maruayle that the children of princes and great lordes be adulterers, and belly gods: for that on the one parte youth is the mother of Idlenes, and on the other, litle experience is the cause of great offences. And furthermore the fathers being once dead, the children enherite their goodes as quietly, being loden with vices: as if in dede they were with all vertues endued. If the younge children did knowe for a certaine, that the lawes of the Lydes should be obserued (that is to witte) that they shoulde not enherite, vnlesse they be vertuous: it is vnpossible but that they would leade a good life, and not in this wyse to runne at large in the worlde. For they doe absteine more from doing euill, fearyng to lose that whiche they doe possesse: then for any loue to doe that whiche they ought. I doe not denaye, but according as the natures of the fathers is dyuers, so the inclinations of the chyldren are variable. For so muche as some folowyng their good incli­nation are good, & others not resisting euil sensualities are euill. But yet in this matter I saye, that it lieth muche in the father that doeth brynge them vp, when as yet they are younge: so that the euill whiche nature gaue, by good bryngyng vp is refrayned. For oftetymes the good custome, doeth [Page] ouercome all euill inclination. Princes and great lordes that wylbe diligent in the instruction of their chyldren, ought to enforme their maisters and tu­tors that shall teache theim, to what vyces and vertues their children are moste inclined: and this ought to be, to encourage them in that that is good, and contrary to reproue them in all that is euill. For men are vndone for no other cause when they be olde: but for that they had so much pleasures when they are younge. Sextus Cheronensis in the seconde booke of the saiynges of the auntientes saieth, that on a daye a citezen of Athens was byenge thinges in the market, and for the qualitie of his persone, the greatest parte of them were superfluous and nothing necessary. And in this case the poore are no lesse culpable then the ryche: and the ryche then the poore. For that is so litle, that to susteyne mans lyfe is necessary: that he which hath lest, hath therunto superfluous. Therfore at that tyme, when Athens and her common wealth was the lanterne of all Grece, there was in Athens a lawe long vsed, and of great tyme accustomed: that nothing should be bought before a philosopher had set the pryce. And truly the lawe was good, and would to God the same lawe at this present were obserued: for there is nothing that destroyeth a cō ­mon wealth more, then to permitte some to sell as tyrauntes, and others to buye as fooles. When the Thebane was buying these thinges, a philosopher was there present, who sayed vnto him these wordes. Tell me I praye thee, thou man of Thebes, wherefore doest thou consume and waste thy money, in that whiche is not necessary for thy house, nor profitable for thy persone? the Thebane aunswered him. I let the knowe, that I doe buye all these thynges for a sonne I haue of the age of .xx. yeares, the whiche neuer did thinge that seamed vnto me euill, nor I neuer denayed hym any thing that he demaun­ded. This philosopher aunswered. O howe happy were thou, if as thou arte a father, thou were a sonne, and that which the father saieth vnto the sonne, the sonne would saye vnto the father: but I am offended greatly with that thou hast tolde me. For vntill the childe be .xxv. yeares olde, he ought not to gaynesaye his father: and the good father ought not to condescende vnto the appetites of the sonne. Nowe I call the cursed father, since thou arte subiect to the wyll of thy sonne: and that thy sonne is not obedient to the wyl of his father, so that thou alterest the order of nature. For so muche as the father is sonne of his sonne, and the sonne is father of his father. But in the end, I sweare vnto thee by the immortall Gods, that when thou shalt become old, thou shalt weape by thy selfe at that whiche with thy sonne thou diddest laughe when he was younge. Though the wordes of this philosopher were fewe: yet a wyse man wyll iudge the sentences to be many. I conclude ther­fore, that princes and great lordes ought to recōmende their children to their maisters, to thende they may teache them to chaunge their appetites, and not to folowe their owne wil: so that they withdrawe them from their own will, and cause them to learne the aduise of an other. For the more a man ge­ueth a noble man sonne the brydle, the more harder it is for them to receiue good doctrine.

¶Princes ought to take hede that their children be not brought vp in vayne pleasures and delightes. For oftetimes they are so wicked, that the fathers would not only haue them with sharpe discipline corrected: but also with bit­ter teares buried. Chap. xxxiii.

[Page 146]BY experience we see, that in warre (for the defence of men) rampiers & fortes are made according to the qualitie of the enemies, & those which sayle the daungerous seas, doe chose great shippes, whiche may breake the waues of the raging Sea: so that all wyse men according to the quali­tie of the daunger, doe seke for the same in time some remedy. Oftetymes I muse with my selfe, and thynke if I coulde finde any estate, any age, any lande, any nation, any realme, or any worlde, wherein there hath bene any man that hath passed this life, without tasting, what aduersitie was: for if suche a one were founde, I thinke it should be a monstrous thing through­out all the earth, and by reason both the dead and liuing should enuie hym. In the ende, after my counte made, I finde that he whiche yesterdaye was ryche, to daye is poore: he that was hole, I see hym to daye sicke: he that ye­sterdaye laughed, to daye I see hym wepe: he that had his hartes ease, I see hym nowe sore afflicted: he that was fortunate, I see hym vnlucky: finally, hym whom we knewe aliue in the towne, now we see buried in the graue. And to be buried is nothing els, but to be vtterly forgotten: for mans frend­shyp is so frayle, that when the corps is couered with earth, immediatly the dead is forgotten. One thinge me thinketh to all men is greuous, & to those of vnderstandyng no lesse payneful, whiche is, that the miseries of this wic­ked worlde are not equally deuided, but that oftetymes all worldly calami­ties lieth in the necke of one man alone. For we are so vnfortunate, that the world geueth vs pleasures in sight, & troubles in profe. If a man should aske a sage man now a daies, who hath liued in meane estate, & that he would be contented to tel him what he hath paste, since three yeares that he began to speake, vntill fifty yeares that he began to waxe olde: what thinges thinke you he would tel vs, that hath chaunced vnto him? truly al these that here folowe The grefes of his children, the assaultes of his enemies, the impor­tunities of his wife, the wantonnes of his doughters, sicknes in his person, great losse of goods, general famine in the citie, cruel plagues in his coūtrey, extreme colde in wynter, noysome heate in sommer, sorowful deathes of his frendes, & enuious prosperities of his enemies: finally he wil say, that he pas­sed such & so many thinges, that oftimes he bewailed the wofull life, & desi­red the swete death. If the miserable man hath passed such things outward­ly, what would he saye of those which he hath suffred inwardly? the whiche though some discrete men may know, yet truly others dare not tell. For the trauailes which the body passeth in fifty yeres, may wel be counted in a day: but that which the hart suffereth in one day, cannot be counted in a hundred yeres. A man cannot denay, but that we would coūte him rashe, which with a rede would mete an other that hath a sword: & him for a foole, that would put of his shoes to walke vpō the thornes. But without cōparison we ought to esteame him for the most foole, that with this tender fleshe thinketh to pre­uaile against so many euil fortunes: for without doubt, the man that is of his body delicate, passeth his life with much paine. O how happy may that mā be called, which neuer tasted what pleasure meaneth. For men whiche from their infancy haue bene brought vp in pleasures, for want of wisdome know not how to chose the good, & for lack of force cannot resiste the euil: which is y^e cause, that noble mens children ofttimes cōmit sondrye heynous offences. [Page] For it is an infallible rule, that the more a mā geueth him selfe to pleasures, the more he is entangled in vices. It is a thing worthy to be noted, and wo­ful to see, how politike we be to augmente thinges of honour, how bolde we be to enterprise them, how fortunate to compas them, how diligent to kepe them, how circumspect to susteine them, and afterwarde what pitie is it to see, how vnfortunate we are to lose all that, whiche so longe time we haue searched for, kept, and possessed. And that which is moste to be lamented in this case is, that the goodes and honour are not lost for wante of diligence & trauaile of the father: but for the aboundaunce of pleasures, and vices of the sonne. Finallye let the riche man knowe, that that which he hath wonne in labour and toyle waking: his sonne (being euill brought vp) shall consume in pleasures sleaping. One of the greatest vanities that reigneth at this day among the children of vanitie is, that the father can not shew vnto his sonne the loue which he beareth him, but in suffering him to be brought vp in the pleasures and vanities of this life. Truly he that is such a one, ought not to be called a pitifull father, but a cruel stepfather: for no man wil denie me this, but that where there is youth, libertie, pleasure, and money, there will all the vices of this world be resident. Lycurgus the great king, geuer of lawes, and sage philosopher, ordeined to the Lacedemonians, that all the children whiche were borne in cities, & good townes, should be sent to bringe vp in villages till they were .xxv. yeares of age. As Liuius saith that the Lygures were, which in olde time were confederate with those of Capua, and great enemies to the people of Rome. They had a lawe amongest them, that none should take wages in the warres, vnlesse he had bene brought vp in the fieldes, or that he had bene a heard man in the mountaines: so that through one of these twoo wayes, their flesh was hardned, their ioyntes accustomed to suffer the heate and the colde, and their bodies more mete to endure the trauayles of the warres. In the yeare of the foundation of Rome, a hundred and fourty, the Romaines made cruell warres with the Lygures, against whome was sent Gneus Fabritius, of the which in the ende he triumphed: and the day folowyng this triumphe, he spake vnto the Senate these wordes. Worthy Senatours I haue bene these fiue yeares against the Ligures, and by the immortall gods I swere vnto you, that in al this time there passed not one weke, but we had either battaile, or some perilous skermiche. And that whiche a man oughte moste to marueile at is, that I neuer perceiued any feare or cowardlynes to be in those barbarous people, whereby they were constrained to demaunde peace of the people of Rome. These Lygures pursued with suche fearcenes the warres, that oftetimes they toke awaye from vs all hope to winne the vic­tory: for betwene armies, the great might of the one, doth put alwayes the others in feare. And I wyll tell you (fathers conscript) their brynging vp, to the ende the Romaine youth should take hereby example. When they are young, they are put to be shepeheardes because they should accustome their fleshe in the mountaines to endure trauaile: by the whiche custome they are so much maisters of them selues (the countrey being alwayes ful of snowe & Ise in the wynter, & also noisome through the extreame heate in the Sōmer that I sweare by y^e god Apollo, in al this time of fiue yeres, of those we haue not sene one prease to the fire in y^e winter, nor couet the shadow in y^e sommer. [Page 134] Do not ye thinke worthy Senatours, that I was willing to declare vnto you these thinges in the Senate, for any desire I haue that you should e­steame any thing the more my triumphe: but I doe tell it you to this ende, that you may haue an eie, and take heade to your men of warre, to the ende they may alwayes be occupied, and that you suffer them not to be idle. For it is more perilous for the Romaine armies, to be ouercome with vices: then to be disconfited with their enemies. And to talke of these matters more at large, me thinketh they should prouide & commaunde, that riche men should not be so hardy to bring vp their children to delicatly: for in the ende, it is vn­possible that the delicate persone should winne with his handes, the honour of many victories. That which moued me to saye so muche as I haue sayed (worthy Senatours) is to the end you may know, that the Ligures were not ouercome by the power of Rome: but because fortune was against them. And since in nothing fortune sheweth her selfe so variable, as in the thinges of warre: me thinketh that though the Ligures are nowe vanquished & ouer­come, yet notwithstanding you ought to entertaine them in loue, & to take them for your confederates. For it is not good councell, to hazarde that into the handes of fortune, which a man may compasse by frendship. The authour of this whiche is spoken, is called Iunius Pratus, in the booke of the concorde of Realmes, and he saith in that place, that this captaine Gneus Fabritius, was counted no lesse sage for that he spake: then esteamed valiaunte for that he did. In the olde time, those of the Iles Balleares (whiche nowe are called Ma­iorque, and Minorque) though they were not counted wyse: yet at the least in bringing vp their children, they shewed them selues not negligent. Because they were brought vp in hardnes in their youth, and could not endure all painefull exercises of the warres. Those of Carthage gaue fiue prisoners of Rome, for one sclaue of Maiorque. Diodorus Siculus saith, in those Iles, the mo­ther did not geue the children bread with their own handes: but they did put it on an high pole, so that they might see the bread with their eies, but they could not reache it with their handes. Wherefore when they woulde eate, they should firste with hurling of stones, or slinges winne it, or elles faste. Though the worke were of children: yet the inuention came of a high wyt. And hereof it came that the Balleares were esteamed for valiaunt mē, as well in wrastling, as in slinges for to hurle: for they did hurle with a slinge to hit a white, as the Lygures shoote nowe in a crosse bowe to hitte the prick. Those of great Britayne, whiche nowe we call Englande, amongest all the Barba­rous, were men most barbarous: but you ought to knowe, that within the space of fewe yeares, the Romaines were vanquished of them many tymes. For tyme in all thinges bringeth such chaunge & alteration, that those which once we knew great lordes: within a while after we haue sene them sclaues. Herodian in his hystory of Seuerus Emperour of Rome saieth, that an Embas­sadour of Britayne being one daye in Rome (as by chaunce they gaue hym a froward aunswere in the Senate) spake stoutely before them all, and said these wordes. I am sory you will not accepte peace, nor graunte truce: the whiche thing shalbe for the greater iustification of our warres. For after­wardes none can take, but that whiche fortune shall geue. For in the ende the delicate fleshe of Rome shal fele, if y^e bloudy swordes of Britayne wil cut. [Page] The Englishe historie saieth, and it is true, that though the countrey be very colde, and that the water freseth ofte: yet the women had a custome to cary their children where the water was frosen, & breaking the Ise with a stone, with the same Ise they vsed to rubbe the body of the infante, to the ende to harden their fleshe, and to make them more apt er to endure trauailes. And without doubt they had reason, for I wyshe no greater penitence to delicate men, then in the wynter to see them without fire: and in the Sommer to wante freshe shadow. Sith this was the custome of the Britayns, it is but reason we credit Iulius Caesar in that he saieth in his comentaries, that is to wete, that he passed many daungers before he could ouercome them: for thei with as litle feare did hyde them selues, and dyued vnder the cold water, as a very man would haue rested him selfe in a pleasaunt shadowe. As Lucanus and Appianus Alexandrinus saie, amongest other nations whiche came to suc­cour the great Pompei in Pharsalia, were the Messagetes, the which (as they say) in their youth did sucke no other, but the milke of Camels: and eate bread of Acornes. These barbarous did these thinges to the ende to harden their bo­dies, to be able to endure trauail, and to haue their legges lighter for to rōne. In this case we can not cal them barbarous, but we ought to cal them men of good vnderstanding: for it is vnpossible for the man that eateth muche, to runne fast. Viriatus (a Spanyarde) was king of the Lusytaines, and a great e­nemy of the Romains, who was so aduenterous in the warre, & so valiaunt in his persone, that the Romains (by the experience of his dedes) found him vnuincible. For in the space of .xiii. yeres they could neuer haue any victory of him: the whiche when they sawe, they determined to poyson him, & did so in dede. At whose death they more reioysed, then if they had wonne the signorie of all Lusitanie. For if Viriatus had not died, they had neuer brought the Lusi­taines vnder their subiection. Iunius Rusticus in his epitomie saith, that this Vi­riatus in his youth was a herde man, & kept cattel by the ryuer of Guadiana, & after that he waxed older, vsed to robbe, & assault men by the highe wayes. And after that he was .xl. yeares of age, he became king of the Lusitaines, and not by force, but by election. For when the people sawe theym selues en­uirouned and assaulted on euery side with enemies: they chose rather stout, strong, and hardy men for their captaines, then noble men for their guydes. If the auncient hystoriographers deceiue me not, whē Viriatus was a thefe, he led with him alwayes at the leaste a hundred theues: the whiche were shodde with leaden shoes, so that when they were enforced to ronne, they put of their shoes. And thus although all the daye they wente with leaden shoes, yet in the night they ranne lyke swyfte buckes: for it is a generall rule, that the loser the ioyntes are, the more swifter shall the legges be to ronne. In the booke of the iestes of the Lumbardes, Paulus Diaconus sayeth, that in the olde tyme those of Capua had a lawe, that vntyl the chyldren were maryed, the fathers shold geue them no bedde to sleape on, nor permit them to sitte at the table to eate: but that they should eate their meates in their handes, and take their reste on the grounde. And truely it was a commen­dable lawe, for reste was neuer inuented for the younge man whiche hath no bearde: but for the aged, beinge lame, impotent, and crooked. Quintus Cincinatus was seconde Dictator of Rome, and in dede for his desertes was [Page 148] the first emperour of the earth. This excellente man was broughte vp in so great trauaile, that his hands were found full of knottes, the ploughe was in his armes, and the swette in his face when he was sought to be Dictator of Rome. For the auncientes desired rather to be ruled of them that knewe not, but how to plow the ground: then of them that delyted in nothing els, but to liue in pleasurs among the people. Caligula which was the fourth em­perour of Rome (as they say) was brought vp with such cost and delicatnes in his youth, that they were in doubt in Rome, whether Drusius Germanicus hys father employed more for the Armyes: then Calligula hys sonne spent in the cradel for his pleasurs. This rehersed agayne, I would now knowe of princes & great lordes what part they would take (y^t is to wete) whether w^t Cincinatus, whych by his stoutnes wanne so many straunge countreys: or with Caligula, that in hys fylthy lustes spared not his proper sister. In myne opinyon, ther nedeth no great deliberacion to aunswere this questyon (that is to wete) the goodnes of the one, and the wickednes of the other: for there was no battayle but Cincinatus did ouercome, nor there was any vyce but Caligula dyd inuent. Suetonius Tranquillus in the second booke of Cesars sayth, y^t when the chyldren of the Emperour Augustus Cesar entred into the hygh ca­pitol, wher al the senate were assembled, the Senatours rose out of their places, and made a reuerence to the children, the whych when the Emperoure Augustus saw, he was much displeased, and called them backe agane. And on a day being demaunded why he loued his children no better, he aunswered in this wise. If my chyldren wil be good, they shal syt hereafter wher I sit now: but if they be euil, I will not their vices shold be reuerenced of the Se­natours. For the aucthoritie & grauity of the good, ought not to be employed in y^e seruice of those that be wicked. The 26. Emperour of Rome was Alex­ander, the which (though he was yong) was asmuch esteamed for hys vertu­es amongest the Romaynes: as euer. Alexander the great was for hys vali­auntnes amongest the Grekes. We can not say, that long experience caused him to come to the gouernment of the common wealth, for as Herodian saith in his syxt booke, the day that the Senatours proclamed him emperour, he was so lytle that his owne men bare him in their armes. That fortunate Emperour had a mother called Mamea, the which brought him vp so wel, & dilygently, that she kept alwayes a great gard of men to take hede, that no vicious mā came vnto him. And let not the diligence of the mother to y^t child be litle estemed: For princes oft times of their owne nature are good, & by e­uyl conuersacion only they are made euil. This worthy woman kepyng al­waies such a faythful gard of her chyld, that no flatterers should enter in to flatter him, nor malicious to tel hym lyes: bychaunce on a day a Romaine sayd vnto her these words. I thinke it not mete (most excellente princesse) y^t thou shoulde be so dyligente aboute thy sonne, to forget the affaires of the common wealth: for prynces ought not to be kept so close, that it is more ea­sye to obtaine a sute at the gods, then to speake one word with the prince.

To this the Empresse Mamea aunswered, and said. They which haue charge to gouerne those that do gouerne, withoute comparison oughte to feare more the vyces of the kinge: thenne the ennemyes of the Realme. For the ennemyes are destroyed in a battaile, but vyces remayne durynge the life, [Page] and in the end, enemyes do not destroy but the possessions of the land, but the vycious prince destroyeth the good maners of the comon wealth. These wordes were spoken of this worthye Romaine. By the histories which I haue declared, and by those which I omitte to recite, al verteous men may know, how much it profiteth them to bring vp their children in trauailes, or to bring them vp in pleasures. But now I ymagine, that those which shall read this, will praise that which is wel writen: and also I trust they wil not giue their children so much their owne willes. For men that read much, & worke litle: are as belles the which do sound to cal others, and they theim selues neuer enter into the church. If the fathers did not esteame the seruice they do vnto God, their owne honour, nor the profite of their owne children: yet to preserue them from disseases, they ought to bring them vp in vertue, & withdraw them from vices. For truly the children which haue bene brought vp daintely, shal alwayes be diseased and sikely. What a thinge is it to se y^e sonne of a labourer, the cote without pointes, the shyrte tottered and torne, their feete bare, their head without a cappe, the body withoute a girdle, in sommer without a hat, in winter without a cloke, in the day ploughing, in the night driuing his herd, eating bread of Rye or Otes, lyeng on the earth, or els on the strawe: and in this trauaile to se this yong man so holy & ver­tuous, that euery man desireth and wisheth, that he had such a sonne. The contrarie commeth of noble mens sonnes, the which we se are nourished & brought vp betwene two fine holland sheetes, layed in a costly cradel, made after the new fashion: they giue the nourse what she wil desire, if perchaunce the child be sicke, they chaunge his nource, or els they appoint him a diet. The father and the mother slepe neither night nor daye, all the house watcheth, they let him eate nothing but the broth of chyckins, they kepe hym diligentely that he fal not downe the stayres, the child asketh nothing but it is geuen him immediatly. Finally they spend their time in seruyng them: they waste their riches in geuyng them their delights, they occupie their eyes but to be­hold them, & they imploye not their harts, but to loue them. But I sweare, y^t those fathers (whiche on this wise do spend their riches to pomper theim) shal one day water their eyes to bewaile theym: What it is to se the wast, that a vaine man maketh in bringinge vp his child? specially if he be a man sumwhat aged, & that at his desire hath a child borne. He spendeth so muche goodes in bringing his vp wantonly, whyles he is yong: that oft times he wanteth to mary him when he commeth to age. And that which worst of al is, that that which he spendeth and employeth he thynketh it wel besto­wed, and thinketh that to much that he geueth for gods sake.

Though the fathers are very large in spendinge, the mothers very curi­ous, and the norces ful of pleasures, and the seruauntes very dilygente and attentiue: yet it foloweth not that the children should be more hole then o­thers. For the more they are attented, the more they be disseased: the more they eate, the more they are weake: the more they reioyce, the worse they prosper: the more they wast and spend, soo muche lesse they profite. And all this is not without the secret permission of God. For God wil not that the cloutes of children be of greater value, then the garments of the poore. God without a greate misterie toke not in hande the custodye of the poore, and [Page 149] doth not suffer that the children of the rich men should prosper: For the good bringeth vp his children without the preiudyce of the rich, and to the profit of the comon wealth: but the rich bringeth vp his children wyth the swet of the poore, and to the domage of the common wealth. Therfore if this thyng be true (as it is) it is but reason that the wolfe whych deuoureth vs do dye: and the shepe which clotheth vs do lyue. The fathers oft times for tender­nes wyl not teach nor bryng vp their children in doctrine, sayeng that as yet he is to yong, and that there remayneth time enough for to be learned, and that they haue leysure enough to be taught: and further for the more excuse of their error they affirme, that when the chyld in his youth is chastned, he ronneth in daunger of his health. But the euil respect which the fathers hath to their chyldren, God suffereth afterwards that they come to be so slaun­derous to the common wealth, so infamous to their parents, so disobedient to their fathers, so euyl in their condicions, so vnaduised and light in their behauiour, so vnmeate for knowledge, so vncorrigible for disciplyne, so incli­ned to lies, so enuyeng the truth: that their fathers would not only haue pu­nished them with sharpe correction: but also they woulde reioyce to haue them buryed with bytter teares. An other thyng ther is in this matter wor­thy to be noted, and much more worthyer to be commended, that is, that the Fathers and mothers vnder the couller that their chyldren should be some­what gracious, they learne them to speake, to bable, & to be great mockers and scoffers, the which thing afterwards redoundeth to the great infamye and dishonour of the Father, to the great peril of the sonne, and to the grea­test griefe and displeasure of the mother. For the child which is brought vp wantonly without doctrine in his youth: of necessity must be a foole when he is old. If this which I haue sayd be euil, this which I wil say is worse: that the Fathers, and mothers, the gouernours, or nources, do teach them to speake dishonest things, the which are not lawful, and therfore ought not to be suffered to be spoken in that tender age: nor the grauitie of the auncients ought not to lysten vnto them. For there are no men (vnlesse they be shame­lesse) that wil permit their children to be great bablers. Those which haue y^e charge to gouerne good mens children ought to be very circumspect, y^t they kepe them in awe, feare & subiection, & that they ought not to be contented, though the fathers say they are pleased. For the disordinate loue that the fa­thers haue to them, is the cause that they cānot se whether they be mockers or euil brought vp. And if it chaunced (as ofttimes it doth) y^t the father shold come to the maister to cause him to withdraw correction, in this case, if the master be a wise mā, he ought no lesse to reproue & admonish the father: then to correct the sonne. And if this did not auaile, I councel him to forsake and leaue his charge. For the man of an honest nature, after he hath taken anye charge in hand, wil eyther bring it to passe, or els he wil dye in the same. I wyl not denaye, but that it is reason noble mennes sonnes be more gently brought vp, handled, and honoured, then the sonnes of the Plebeiens: for more delicately is the palme tree, which bringeth forth dates, cherished: then the oke which bringeth forth Akornes, wherwith the hogges are nourished. Let princes and great lordes beware, that the pleasures which they gaue their childre in theyr youthe, be not so excessyue, nor of soo longe continuaunce: [Page] that when they would withdraw them, the world hath not alredy festered them. For the children brought vp with to much delicatenesse, are disobedient to their fathers and mothers, or els they are sicke in their bodyes, or worse then that, they are vicious in their behauiours: so that their fathers shold be better to burye theym quycke, then to bring them vp vycious.

¶That princes and gre [...]te Lordes oughte to be carefull in seking wyse men to bryng vp their children. Of .x. conditions that good Schole maisters ought to haue. Cap. xxxiiii.

WHen he that is without end, gaue beginning to the world, in this sort he beganne. The Sonday he created heauen and earth, The Mondaye he created the element, the Tuesday he created the Planettes, the Wednesday he created the Sonne and the Mone, the Thursday he created the birdes in the ayre, and the fishes in the sea, the fryday he created Adam and Eue hys wife, and truly in that he created, and how he created, hee shewed himselfe as God. For as sone as the house was made, he fornished & peopled it with that that was necessarie, as he could wel do. Omitting therfore the creator, and talking of creatures: we se by experience, that a householder in planting a vineyarde, immediatly maketh a hedge, to the ende that the beasts do not hurt it, and eate it vp. And when it is wel growen he hyreth some poore la­borer to watche, that trauailers do not gather nor eate the grapes therof. The rich man that traffiqueth by sea, after he hath made a great shippe, and bestowed vi. or vii. thousand ducates, if he be wise, he wil first prouide a man that may gouerne her, before he wil seke marchaundise for to fraite her: for in perilous tempestes the greatnes of the shippe lytel auayleth, if the pilot therof be not expert. The householder that hath many cowes and shepe, and likewise hath faire feeldes, and pleasaunt pastures for his cattel, doth not on­ly seke herdmen to kepe the cattell, but also dogges to feare the wolfes, and cabannes to lodge the herdmen. For the cabanne of the shepherdes, and the baying of the dogge, is but as a sauegard of the shepe, from the raueninge of the wolfe. The mightie and valiaunte princes whiche in the frontiers of their enemyes kepe strong fortresses, seke alwayes stout and hardy captay­nes to defend their walles: for otherwise it were better the fort shold be bat­tered to the grounde, then it should come into the power of the enemyes. By the comparisons aboue named, ther is no discreat man but doth vnderstand to what end my penne doth write them: that is: to know to kepe, and proue, how that men which loue their children wel (adding this vnto it) haue great neade of good maisters and gouernours, to teache and bring them vp. For whiles y^e palme tre is but litle, a frost doth easely destroy it. I meane whiles y^e child is yonge if he haue no tutour: he is easely deceiued with the world. If the lord be wise, and of vnderstanding, there is no fortresse so esteamed, ney­ther ship so fayre, nor herd so profitable, nor vyne so fruitful, but that he bet­ter estemeth to haue a good sonne then al these thinges together, or any o­ther thing in the world. For the father ought to loue his childrē as his owne proper: and al residue as giftes of fortune. If it be so (as it is in deade) since that for to keape and watche the herd they seake a good shepherde, if for the vine they seake a good labourer, if for to gouerne the shippe they seke a good [Page 150] maister, and for to defend a fort they seke a good captayne: why then wil not the wise fathers seke for good maisters, to teach & bring vp their chyl­dren? O princes and great lords, I haue now told you, and agayne do say, that if you trauaile one yeare to leaue your chyldren goodes: you ought to sweate 50 yeres to leaue them wel brought vp. For it auayleth lytle to carye much corne to the myl: if the myl be out of frame. I meane that in vayne ri­ches and treasurs are gathered: when the child that shal inherite them, hath not witte to vse them. It is no smal matter to know how to choose good gouernours. For the prince is sage, that fyndeth such a one: and much more happie is he, that of him shal be taught. For in my opinyō, it is no smal charg for one man to bring vp a Prince that shal gouerne manye. As Seneca sayth, the wise man ought to conferre al thinges with his frend, but first he ought to know who he is that is his frend. I meane, that the wise father oughte for his children to seke one good maister, and to him he should recommende them al: but first he ought to know what he is. For that man is very simple which wil bye a horse, before he se & proue him, whether he be hole or lame. He ought to haue many and good condicions and qualyties, that shoulde bring vp the children of princes and great lordes: for by one way they nou­rishe the tender trees in the orchard, & after another sort they plant the wild trees in the mountaynes. Therfore the case shalbe this, that we wil declare here what condicions, and behauiours the maisters and gouernours of noble mens sonnes ought to haue, which may bring them to honour, and their disdoundeth to the honour and praise of his mayster.

The first condicion is, that he which ought to be tutor to noble mens sonnes, shold be no lesse then 40. yeres of age, & no more then 60 bicause the mai­ster y^t is yong, is ashamed to comaund, & if he be aged he is not able to correct.

The .2. it is necessary that tutors be very honest, & that not only in purenes of conscience: but also in the outward apparance, and cleanes of lyfe. For it is vnpossible that the child be honest, if the mayster be dissolute,

The 3. it is necessary that tutors and gouernours of princes and great lor­des, be true men, not only in their words: but also in their couenauntes. For to say the truth, that mouth which is alwaies ful of lyes, ought not by reason to be a teacher of the truth.

The 4. condicion, it is necessary y^t the gouernours of princes & great lordes (of their owne nature) be liberall: for oft tymes the greate couetousnes of maisters, maketh the harts of princes to be gredy and couetous.

The 5. it is necessary that the maisters and gouernours of princes, & great lords, be moderate in wordes & very resolute in sentences: so that they ought to teach the children to speake litle, & to harken much. For it is the chefest vertue in a prince, to heare with pacience, and to speake wyth wisedome.

The 6. condicion is, it is necessary that the maysters and gouernours of princes and great lords be wise men, and temperate: so that the grauitye of the mayster, maye restrayne the lyghtnes of the Schollers, for there is no greater plagues in Realmes, then for princes to be yong, and their maisters to be lyght.

The 7. it is necessarye that the maisters and tutors of princes and greate [Page] lords, be wel learned in diuinity, and humanitie, in such sort that that which they teach the princes by word, they may shew it by writing, to the end that other princes may execute and put the same in vre: for mens harts are soner moued by the examples of those which are past, then by the words of them that are present.

The 8. condicion, it is necessarie that the maisters and tutors of princes be not giuen to the vice of the flesh: for as they are yong, and naturallye giuen to the flesh, so they haue no strength to abide chast, neyther wisedome to be ware of the snares. Therefore it is necessarye that theyr maisters be pure and honeste: for the Dyscyples shall neuer bee chaste, if the mayster bee vicyous.

The 9. it is necessary that the masters and tutors of Princes, and greate lords, haue good condicions, bycause the children of noble men (being dain­tely brought vp) alwayes learne euill condicions, the which their maisters ought to reforme, more by good conuersacion, then by sharpe correction. For oftentimes it chaunceth, that whereas the maister is cruel, the scholer is not merciful.

The .10. it is necessary that the maisters and tutors of prynces, and great lordes, haue not only sene and red many things: but also that they haue pro­ued chaungeable fortune. For since noble mens sonnes (by the gift of god) haue great estates, they ought therefore to prouide to speake to many, to aun­swere to many, and to entreat with many, and it is very profitable for them to be conuersaunt with expert men, for in the end, the approued mā in coun­cel hath preheminence. I was willyng to bringe in these rules in my wri­ting, to the end that fathers may kepe them in their memory, when they do seke maysters to teach their children: for in my opinyon, the father is more in fault to seke an euil maister, then the maister is to make an euyl scholer. For if I choose euyl taylers to cut my gowne, it is my faulte that the cloth is lost, and my gowne marred. Albeit the Romaines were in al their doings circumspect, yet for this one thinge, I must enuy the good doctrine which they gaue to noble mens children. For wythout doubt, it is vnpossible that in any city there by a good common wealth, vnlesse they are very circumspect to bring vp yong children. Sabellicus in his rapsodies sayth, that in the 415 ye­res of the foundacion of Rome. Qintus Seruilius, and Lucius Geminus then con­sulles, being in the warre against the Volces the stout aduenturous captaine Camillus, there rose a great strife, and contencion in Rome amongest the peo­ple, and the knights: and that contencion was vpon the prouision of offyces. For in great common wealthes it hath bene an aunciente quarell, that in knights and gentlemen there surmounteth pride in commaundyng: and a­monge the people ther wanteth pacience in obeyinge.

The knightes and gentlemen would they should chose a Tribune Millitare in the senate, to speake in the name of al the knyghtes, that were absent and present: for they sayd, that sence they were alwayes at the warre, the whole common wealth remained in the power of the people. The commons on the other part importuned, and desired, that a new officer should be created, the whych should haue the charge to examine and take accompt how the youth of Rome were brought vp: bycause the comon people did accuse the knights, [Page 151] & gentlemen, that the longer they remained in the warres, the more sensuallye their chyldren lyued in Rome. It was decreed then, that a Tri­bune Millitare should be erected, the which in aucthority and dignytie should be equal with the senatours, & that he should represente the state of warlike knights: but that office continued no longer then foure yeres in Rome (that is to wete) til the time y^t Camillus retourned from the warres. For thinges that are grounded of no reason, of them selues they come to nought. Al the knights & gentlemen sought to the vttermost of their power, to maintaine their preheminēce: & on the other side al the cominalty of Rome was against it. In y^e end, the good captaine Camillus called al the knights & gentlemen to gethers and sayd vnto them these words. I am greatly ashamed, to se that the stoutnes should be so lytle of the Romaine knights, that they should cō ­discend to the wil of the Plebians: for in dede the myghty do not get so much honour, to ouercome the lytle: as the litle do to striue with the great. I say y^t the strife & debate amongest you in Rome, doth displease me muche: therfore (you knights) if you wil not lose your honours, you must eyther kil them, or ouercome them. You cannot ouercome them, bycause they are many: & kyll them you ought not, for in the end they are youres, & therfore ther is no bet­ter remedy then to dissemble with theym. For things which suffer no force, nor obserue not iustyce, ought alwayes (vntil conuenient time) to be dissem­bled. The immortal gods did not create Romaine knights to gouerne peo­ple: but to conquere Realmes. And I say further, that they dyd not create vs to teach lawes to oures: but to giue lawes to straungers. And if we be the children of our fathers, & immitators of the auncient Romanes: we wil not content our selues to commaund in Rome, but to commaund those which do commaund in Rome. For the hart of a true Romaine: doth lytle esteame to se himselfe lord of this world: if he know that ther is another to conquere. You others did creat this Tribune Millitare, we being in the warre: whereof now theris no necessitye, since we are in peace. And the cause whye I was willing ther should be none in the common wealth, was for that ther was not riches in Rome sufficient to acquite the desarts of the Romaine chiualry. And if you esteme, an honorable office, to be a Tribune Millitaire: since you cā ­not al haue it, me thinketh you shold al want it. For amonge y^e noble men & Plebeians it is not mete, that one alone should enioy that, which many haue deserued. This history Sabellicus declareth, & allegeth Pulio for his aucthor, & reciteth, that for this good worke that Camillus did in Rome (that is to wete) to set the great & the smal at one: he was aswel beloued of y^t romaines, as he was feared of the enemies. And not without a iust cause: for in my opinyon it is a greater vertue to pacify his owne, then to robbe straungers. As tou­ching the office of this Tribune, wherupon this great cōtencion rose in Rome I cānot tel which was greater, the folish rashnes of the knights to procure it, or the wisedom of Camillus to abbolish it. For to say the truthe, the arte of cheualrie was inuented more to defend the common wealth: then to byde at home, & haue the charge of iustice. For to the good knight it semeth better to be loden w^t weapōs to resist enemyes: then to be enuyroned with bokes to determyne causes. Returning therfore to that whych the people sayd against the souldiors, it was ordayned (by the consent of al) that in Rome an office [Page] should be erected, and that he which should haue it, should haue the charge to go through Rome, to se what they were in Rome, that did not instruct their children in good doctrine: and if perchaunce he found any neighbours child that was euyl taught, he chastised and banished the father. And truly that punishment was very iust, for the father deserueth more punyshment, for y^t he doth therunto consent: then the child deserueth more the offences which he doth comit. When Rome was Rome, & that of al the world the common wealth therof was comended, they chose for an officer therin y^e most aunci­ent & vertuous Romaine, who was called the general vysiter of the childrē of Rome: & it semeth to be true, for somuch as he whych had this office one yere, hoped to be consul, dictatour. or censor the next. As it appeareth by Mar­cus Porcio, who desired to be corrector of the childrē: & afterwards succeded to be censor of the Romaine people. For the Romaynes dyd not offer the office of iustice to any man, vnlesse he had had experience of al offices. Patricius Se­nensis in the booke of the common wealth saith, that before the warres were betwene Carthage & Rome, the comon wealth of Carthage was very wel go­uerned, & as it be semed such a noble citie: but it is an auncient preuiledge of the warre, that it kylleth the persones, consumeth the goods, & aboue al, en­gendreth a new passion & miserie: & in the end destroyeth al good aunciente customes.

The Carthagians therefore had a custome, that the chyldren, and especial­ly those which were of honest men, should be put in the temples from iii. ye­res, tyl .xii. & so from .xii. til xx. they learned crafts, sciences, & occupacions, and from .xx. vntil .xxv. they instructed them in y^e feates of warre: & at the end of xxx. yeres they gaue themselues to mariage▪ For amōgest them it was a law inuiolable, that no man shold mary vntil he were xxx. yeres of age: & the wo­men xxv. And after that they were maried, the moneth folowing they ought to present themselues before the Senate, & ther to chose what kind of estate they would take vpon them to liue in, and what their minds most desired (that is to wete) if they would serue in the Temples, folow the warre, or tra­uayle the seas, or get their lyuing by land, or follow their occupacion which they had learned. And loke what estate or office that day they chose, the same they kept & occupyed during their lyfe: & truly the law was very good, by­cause such chaunge of estates & offices in the world, are occasion that presently so many come to destruction. Al the excellent and auncient Princes had many great philosophers for their masters: & this seameth to be true by this, that kyng Darius had Lichanius the phylosopher for his mayster. The greate Alexander had Aristotel the phylosopher for hys master. Kinge Artaxerces had Pindarus the phylosopher for his mayster. The aduenturous and hardye cap­tayne of the Athenians Palemo had Xenocrates the Phylosopher for his mai­ster. Xemiades (only kyng of the Corinthians) had Chilo the phylosopher for hys mayster and tutour to hys chyldren.

Epamynundes, prince of the Thebaines, had for his maister and councelloure Maruchus the Phylosopher.

Vlisses the Greke (as Homere sayth) had for his mayster and companyon in hys trauayles, Catinus the phylosopher.

Pirrus (whyche was kynge of the Epirotes, and greate defendoure of the [Page 152] Tharentines) had for hys maister and chronicler, Arthemius the phylosopher. Of whom Cicero speaketh ad atticum, that his sword was sharper to fighte, then his penne ready to write. The great kyng Ptholomeus Philadelphus was not onely scholer of the most singuler Phylosophers of Grece: but also after he was king, he sent for 72. phylosophers wych were Hebrues. Cirus kyng of the Persians, that destroyed the great Babylon, had for his mayster Pristicus the Phylosopher. Traian the Emperour had Plutarche for hys mayster, who dyd not only teach hym in hys youth: but also wrote him a booke, how he ought to gouerne hym selfe & his common wealth. By these few examples which I haue expressed, and by many other whych I omit, Princes at this present may se, how carefull princes were in tymes past, to geue their chyldren wyse and learned men, O prynces and great lordes, synce you that are at thys pre­sent, do presume and take vppon you that whyche your forefathers dyd: I would that now you would consyder, who brought them to so high estate, and who leaueth of them eternal memory. For wythout doubt noble men neuer wanne renowme, for the pleasures they had in vyces, but for the tra­uailes they had in vertues. Againe I say, that princes in tymes past were not famous for theyr stoutnes, and apt dysposicion of theyr bodyes, neyther for discent of hygh and noble lynage, nor yet for the possession of many real­mes: or heaping vp of great treasours: but they wanne & obtayned immor­tal renowme, for that their fathers in theyr youth put them vnder the tuiciō of wise and learned tutours, whych taught them good doctrine, & when they were of age gaue them good counsaylers to gouerne the common wealth. Laertius in y^e lyfe of the phylosophers, & Boccase in the boke of y^e lynage of gods say, That among the phylosophers of Athens there was a custome, that no straung phylosopher should reade in their scholes, before he weare first exa­myned in natural and moral phylosophy: for amonge the Grekes it was an auncyent prouerbe, that in the schole of Athens no vycious man could enter, nor idle word be spoken, neither they dyd consent that any ignoraunt philo­sopher should come in to read there. As by chaunce many phylosophers were come from the mout Olimpus, amongest the residue ther was one came to se the phylosophers of Athens, who was natife of Thebes, a man (as afterwards he declared him selfe) in mortal & natural Phylosophy very wel learned: and since he desired to remayne in Athens, he was examined, and of many and dyuers thyngs demaunded. And amongest the others these folowing were some of them.

Firste they asked him, what causeth women to be so frowarde, since it is true that nature made them shamefast, and created them simple? the Phi­losopher aunswered. A Woman is not frowarde, but bycause she hath to much her wil, and wanteth shame.

Secondarily they asked him why yong men are vndone? he aunswered: bycause time aboundeth them for to do euil, and maysters wanteth to en­force them to do good.

Thirdly they asked him, why are wise men deceyued aswel as the simple? he aunswered. The wise man is neuer deceyued, but by him that vseth faire words. and hath euil condicions.

Forthly they asked him, of whom mē ought most to beware? he aunswered [Page] That ther is to a man no greater enemye, then he which seeth that thing in the, which he desireth to haue in him selfe.

Fifthly they asked him, why many princes beginne wel and end euil? he aunswered: princes begin wel, bycause their nature is good: & they end euil, bycause no man doth gaine say them.

Sixtly they asked him, why do princes comit such follyes? he aunswered: Bicause flatterers aboundeth that deceiue them: & true men wanteth which should serue them.

Seuenthly they asked him, why the auncients were so sage, & men at thys present so simple? he aunswered. Bycause the auncients did not procure but to know, & they present do not trauaile but for to haue.

Eightly they asked him, why so many vyces were nourished in the pallace of princes? he aunswered. Bycause pleasures abound, and councel wanteth. The ninth, they asked him, why the most part of mē liued without rest, & few without paine? he aunswered. No man is more without, & suffereth more paine: thē he which dieth for the goods of another, & litle estemeth his owne.

The tenth they asked him wherby they myght know the common wealth to be vndone: he aunswered. There is no comon wealth vndone, but where the yong are light, and the old vicious.

The xi. they asked him wherwith the comon wealth is mainteyned? he aunswered. The common wealth cannot decay, wher iustice remayneth for the poore, punishment for the tiraunts, weight and measure plentiful: & chefely, if ther be good doctrine for the yong, & lytle couetousnes in the old. Affro the historiographers declareth this in y^e x boke De rebus attheniensium. Truly in my opinion the words of this philosopher were few, but the sentences were ma­ny. And for none other cause I dyd bring in this history, but to profite me of the last word, wherin for aunswere he saith, that al the profite of the commō wealth consisteth, in that ther be princes that restrayne the auarice of the a­ged: & that there be maisters to teach the youthful. We se by experience, that if the brute beasts were not tied, & the corne & seedes compassed with hed­ges or ditches, a man should neuer gather the fruite when they are ripe. I meane, y^t strife & debate wil rise continually amonge the people, if the yonge men haue not good fathers to correct them, & wise maisters to teach them We cānot deny, but though the knife be made of fyne steele, yet sometimes it hath nede to be whet: & so in lyke maner the yong man, during the time of his youth, though he do not deserue it, yet from time to time he ought to be corrected. O princes & great lords, I know not of whom you take councell when your sonne is borne, to prouyde him of a maister & gouernour, whom you chose not as the most vertuous, but as the most richest: not as the most sagest, but as the most vile & euil taught. Finally, you do not trust him wyth your children that best deserueth it: but y^t most procureth it. Againe I say, O princes & great lords, why do you not w^tdraw your childrē from their hands which haue their eyes more to their owne profite thē their harts vnto your seruice. For such to enrich themselues, do bring vp princes vyciously. Let not princes thinke y^t it is a trifle to know, how to find & chose a good master: & the lord which herein doth not employ his dyligence, is worthy of great re­buke, And because they shal not pretend ignoraunce, let them beware of that [Page 153] man whose life is suspicious, and extreame couetous. In my opinion, in the palace of princes the office of tutorship ought not to begeuen as other comon offices, that is to wete, by requestes or money, by priuyties or importunities, eyther els for recompence of seruices: for it foloweth not though a man hath ben imbassadour in straunge realmes, or captaine of great armies in warre, or that he hath possessed in the roial palace offices of honour, or of estemaciō that therfore he should be able to teach, or bring vp their children. For to be a good captayne, sufficeth only to be hardy, and fortunate: but for to be a tu­tour, and gouernour of princes, he ought to be both sage, and vertuous.

¶Of the ii. children of Marcus Aurelius the Emperour, of the which the best beloued dyed. And of the maisters he prouided for the other named Comodus▪ Chap. xxxv.

MArcus Aurelius the xvii. Emperour of Rome, in y^t time that he was ma­ried with Faustine, only doughter of the Emperour Antonius Pius, had only ii. sonnes, wherof the eldest was Comodus and the second Verissi­mus. Of these ii. chyldren the heyre was Comodus, who was so wycked in the 13 yeres he gouerned the empire: that he semed rather the disciple of Nero y^e cruel, then to descend by the mothers syde: from Anthonius the mercifull, or sonne of Marcus Aurelius. This wicked chyld Comodus was so light in speach, so dishonest in parson, & so cruel with his people: that oft tymes (he being a­liue) they layed wagers that ther was not one vertue in him to be found, nor any one vyce in him that wanted. On the contrary part the second sonne named Verissimus, was comely of gesture, proper of personne, & in witte verye temperate: & the most of al was, that by his good conuersacion of al he was beloued. For the faire and vertuous princes by theyr beauty draweth vnto them mens eyes: & by their good conuersacion they winne their harts. The child Verissimus was the hope of the comon people, & the glory of his aged fa­ther: so that the Emperour determined y^t this chyld Verissimus shold be heyre of the Empire, and that the prince Comodus should be disherited. Wherat no man ought to maruaile, for it is but iust since the child doth not amend hys lyfe: that the father do disinherit him. When good wil doth want, and vici­ous pleasures abounde: the children oft times by peruerse fortune come to nought. So this Marcus Aurelius being .52. yeres old, by chaunce this chylde Verissimus (which was the glory of Rome, & the hope of the father) at y^t gate of Hostia, of a sodayne sicknes dyed. The death of whom was as vniuersallye lamented: as his lyfe of al men was desired. It was a pitiful thynge to see, how wofully the father toke the death of his intierly beloued son: & no lesse lamētable to behold how the senat toke the death of their prince, beinge the heire. For the aged father for sorow did not go to the Senate: and the senat for few daies enclosed themselues in the high Capitol. And let no man mer­uaile, though the death of this yong prince was so taken through Rome: For if men knew what they lose when they lose a vertuous Prince, they would neuer cease to bewaile and lament hys death. When a knight, a gentleman a squyre, an offycer, or when any of the people dyeth, ther dyeth but one: but when a prince dieth, which was good for all, and that he lyued to the profit [Page] of al, then they ought to make account that al do dye, & they ought al great­ly to lament it. For oft times it chaunseth, that after ii. or iii. good Princes, a foule flocke of tyraunts succedeth. Therfore Marcus Aurelius the Emperour, as a man of great vnderstanding, and of a princely parsonne, though the in­ward sorow from the rootes of the hart could not be plucked: yet he deter­mined to dissemble outwardly, and to burie his greues inwardly.

For to say the truth, none ought (for any thing) to shew extreame sorow: vnlesse it be that he hath lost his honour, or that his conscience is burdened. The good prince as one that hath his vineyard frosen, wherin was al hys hope, contented with him selfe with that whych remaineth, his so derely be­loued sonne being dead: & comaunded the prince Comodus to be brought into his pallace, being his only heyre. Iulius Capitolinus, whych was one of those y^t wrote of the tyme of Marcus Aurelius sayd vpon this matter, that when the father saw the disordinate fraylenes, and lightnes, and also the litle shame whych the prince Comodus his sonne brought with him: the aged man be­gan to weape, and shed teares from his eyes. And it was, bycause the symplenes and vertues of his deare beloued sonne Verissimus came into hys mynd. Though this Emperour Marcus, for the death of hys sonne was very sorowful: yet notwithstanding this he prouided, how his other sonne Como­dus should be gouerned, & this before that eyther of age or body he wer grea­ter. For we cānot deny, but when Princes are mē, they wil be such as in their youth they haue bene brought vp. The good father therfore knowing y^t the euil inclinacions of his sonne should do him domage, & the empire in like ma­ner: he sent throughout al Italy, for the most sagest & expert men, to be go­uernours & Tutors of Comodus the prince. He made them seke for the most profoundest in learning, the most renowmed of good fame, the most ver­tuous in dedes, and the most depest in vnderstandyng: for as the dust is not swept with fyne cloth, but w^t dry bromes: so the lightnes & follies of yong mē are not remedied, but by the hard disciplyne of the aged. Thys commaunde­ment being published and proclaimed in Rome, & the bruit scattered through Italye, there came and ranne thither dyuerse kinde of sages, whom he com­maunded to be examyned. He being informed of the bloud of thier predices­sours, of the age of their persones, of the gouernment of their houses, of the spendyng of their goodes, of their credit amongest their neighbours, of the sciences they knew, & aboue al, they were no lesse examined of the purenes of their lyues, then of the grauitie of their personnes: for ther are many men whych are graue in open wordes, & very light in secret works. Speakyng therfore more particularly, he commaunded they should examyne the Astro­nomers of Astronomy, the phylosophers in philosophie, the musitines in musike: the Orators in oracions. And so forth of other sciences in order, wherin euery one sayd he was instructed. The good emperour was not so conten­ted to do this once but sondry times, not al in one day, but in many, not on­ly by an other man, but also by him selfe.

Finally they were al examyned, as if they had bene al one, and that y^e same one shold haue remayned & bene kept for al, to be only master & tutor of the young child and prince Comodus. To acquire a perfect knowledge, and to be [Page 154] sure not to erre in choyce of thinges, in my opinion is not onely required ex­perience of him selfe, and a cleare vnderstanding: but also the aduyse of an o­ther. For the knowledge of thinges wholly together is easy: but the choyce of them particularly is harde. This thing is spoken because the good Empe­rour sent, and commaunded to chose gouernours and maisters of his chil­dren. Of many he choose fewe, and of fewe the most wysest, of the most wy­sest the most expert, of the most expert the best learned, of the best learned the most temperate, of the most temperate the most auncient, and of the most auncient the moste noble. Certainely such election is worthy prayse, because they be true maisters and teachers of princes, which are noble of bloud, aun­cient in yeares, honeste in life, men of litle folly, and of great experience. Accor­ding to the seuen liberal sciences, two maisters of euery one were chosen, so that the prince was but one, and the others were .xiiii. but this notwithstan­ding, the workes of this prince Comodus were contrary to the expectation of his father Marcus Aurelius, because the intention of the good father was to teache his sonne all sciences: and the study of the sonne was to learne all vi­ces. At the bruite of so great a thing as this was, that the Emperour sought to prouide tutors for the prince Comodus, and that they should not be those which were best fauoured, but those whiche were found the most wysest: in shorte space there came so many philosophers to Rome, as if the deuine Plato had bene reuiued againe in Grece. Let vs not marueile at all, if the sages de­sired the acquaintaunce & familiaritie of this good Emperour. For in the ende, there is no man so sage, nor so vertuous in this life, but sometime wyll seke after the fauours of the world. Since there were many sages, and that of those he chose but fourtene. It was necessary he should honestly and wi­sely dispatche and geue the others leaue, as did behoue him. And herein the good emperour shewed him selfe so wyse, that shewing to some a mery coū ­tenaunce, to others speaking gently, and to others by a certaine hope, & to o­thers by giftes & presentes, al the good company of the sages departed: & the good emperour dispatched them, not one being sad which departed, but very wel pleased. For it is not comely for the magnificence of a prince, that the mā which cōmeth to his pallace only for his seruice, should returne murmuring, or without rewarde. This good emperour shewed him selfe sage to seke ma­ny sages, he shewed him self wise in the choice of some, & of a good vnderstā ­ding in dispatching others, & in cōtenting thē all. For as we see daily by expe­rience, though the elections be good, cōmonly great affections thereupon en­gender. For those, for not being chosen are sory, & to see the others chosen are shamefast. In such case likewyse, let it not be esteamed litle to serche a good remedy. For the goldsmith ofttymes demaundeth more for the workeman­ship, then the siluer is worth: I meane, that somtime princes do deserue more honour for the good meanes they vse in their affaires: then for the good suc­cesse whereunto it commeth. For the one aduenture guideth, but the other wisedome aduaunceth. The good emperour not contented with this, proui­ded that those .xiiii. philosophers whiche should remaine in his pallace, should sitte at the table, and accompany his persone: the which thing he did, to see if their life wer cōformable to their doctrine, & if their words did agree to their works. For ther are many mē, which ar of a goodly tōgue, & of a wicked life. [Page] Iulius Capitolinus, and Cinna Catullus, whiche were writers of this history say, that it was a wonder to see howe this good Emperour did marke them, to know if they were sober in feading, temperate in drinking, modest in going, occupied in studieng, and aboue all if they were very sage in speakynge, and honest in liuing. Would to God the princes of our tyme were in this case so diligent, and carefull: and that in committing in truste their affaires, they would not care more for one then for others. For speaking with due reue­rence, there aboundeth no wysedome in that prince, whiche committeth a thing of importaunce to that man whom he knoweth not, whether he is a­ble to brynge it to passe or not. Many talke euill, and maruaile that princes and great lordes in so many thinges doe erre: and for the contrary I mar­uaile howe they hitte any at al. For if they committed their waightie affaires to skilfull men, though perhappes they erre once: yet they hitte it a hundred times, but when they committe their busines to ignoraunt men, if they hitte once, they misse a thousand times againe. In this case I say, there is nothing destroyeth younge Princes more, then for that they committe not their af­faires to their olde and faithfull seruauntes: For in fine the vnfained loue is not, but in him that eateth the princes bread daily. It is but reason, that other princes take example by this prince to seke good maisters for their children: and if the maisters be good, and the schollers euyll, then the fathers are bla­melesse. For to princes and great lordes, it a great discharge of conscience, to see though their children be loste: yet it is not for want of doctrine, but for a­boundaunce of malice. The Romaine prince had a custome to celebrate the feaste of the God Genius, who was God of their byrthe, and that feaste was celebrated euery yeare once, whiche was kepte the same daye of the byrth of the Emperour, ioyfully throughout all Rome: for at this day al the prysoners were pardoned, and deliuered out of the pryson Mamortina. Yet notwith­standing you ought to knowe, that if any had sowed sedition amonge the people, or had betrayed the armies, or robbed or done any mischiefe in their temples: those three offences were neuer pardoned nor excused in Rome. E­uen as in Christian religion the greatest othe is to sweare by God, so a­mongest the Romaines there was no greater othe, then to sweare by the God Genius. And since it was the greatest othe none could sweare it, but by the licence of the Senate: and that ought to be, betwixt the handes of the priestes of the God Genius. And if perchaunce suche an othe were taken of light occasion, he which sware it was in daunger of his life. For in Rome it was an auncient lawe, that no man should make any solempne othe, but that first they should demaunde licence of the Senate. The Romaines did not permitte, that lyers nor disceiuers should be credited by their othes: nei­ther did they permitte them to sweare. For they said, that periured men doe both blaspheme the Gods and deceiue men. The aboue named Marcus Aure­lius was borne the .xxvii. day of Aprill, in Mounte Celio, in Rome. And as by chaunce they celebrated the feaste of the God Genius, which was the daye of his birth, there came maisters offence, Iuglers, and common players, with other loyterers, to walke and solace them selues. For the Romaines in their greate feastes, occupied them selues al night in offring sacrifices to the gods, and afterwardes they consumed all the day in pastimes. Those iuglers and [Page 155] players, shewed so muche pastime, that all those which behelde them were prouoked to laughe, and the Romaines (to say the truth, were so earnest in matters of pastime, and also in other matters of weight that in the daye of pastimes no man was sadde, and in the time appointed for sadnes no man was mery. So that in publike affaires they vsed all to mourne, or els all to reioyce. Cinna Catullus saith, that this good Emperour was so wel beloued, that when he reioyced, all reioyced: and when the Romaine people made any great feast, he him selfe was there present, to make it of more authoritie, and shewed such mirth therein, as if he alone and none other had reioyced. For o­therwyse if the prince loke sadly, no man dare shewe him selfe mery. The hi­storiographers say of this good emperour, that in ioyfull feastes and trium­phes they neuer saw him lesse mery, then was requisite for the feast: nor they euer sawe him so mery, that it exceaded the grauitie of his persone. For the prince whiche in vertue presumeth to be excellent, ought neither in earnest matters to be heauy: nor in thinges of small importaunce to shewe him self light. As princes nowe a daies goe enuironned with menne of armes: so did then the good Emperour go accompanied with sage philosophers. Yea and more then that, which ought most to be noted, is that in the dayes of feastes & pleasures, the princes at this present goe accompanied with hongry flatte­rers: but this noble Emperour went accompanied with wise men. For the prince that vseth him selfe with good company, shall alwayes auoyde the e­uil talke of the people. Sextus Cheronensis saith, that a Senatour called Fabius Patroclus, seing that the Emperour Marcus went alwaies to the Senate and Theaters, accompanied and enuironned with sages: saide one daye to him merily. I pray thee (my lorde) tell me, why thou goest not to the Theater, as to the Theater, & to the Senate, as to the Senate. For to the Senate Sa­ges ought to go to geue vs good councell: and to the Theaters, fooles to make vs pastime. To this the good Emperour aunswered: my frend, I saye thou art much deceaued. For to the sacred Senate, wherein there are so ma­ny sages, I would leade all the fooles to the ende they might become wise: and to the Theaters where all the fooles are, I would bring the sages, to the ende to teache them wisedome. Truly this sentence was fit for him that spake it. I admonishe princes and great lordes, that in steade to kepe compa­ny with fooles, flatterers, & parasites, they prouide to haue about them wyse and sage mē, in especially if the fooles be malicious: for the noble hartes with one malicious worde are more offended: then if they were with a venemous arrow wounded. Therfore returning to our matter, as the emperour was in the feast of the god Genius, & that with him also were the .xiiii. sage philoso­phers, (maisters of the prince Comodus) a iugler more conning then al the rest, shewed sondry trickes, as cōmonly such vaine loiterers are wont to doe. For he that in like vanities sheweth most pastime, is of the people most beloued. As Marcus Aurelius was sage: so he set his eies more to beholde these .xiiii. mai­sters, then he did stay at the lightnes of the fooles. And by chaunce he espied that fiue of those laughed so inordinatly at the folly of these fooles, that they clapt their hands, they bet their feete, & lost the grauitie of sages by their inor­dinat laughter: the which was a very vncomly thing in such graue persons. For the honest modestie of the body, is a great witnes of the wisedome and [Page] grauitie of the mynde. The lightnes and inconstancie of the sages sene by y^e Emperour, and that al the graue Romaines were offended with them, he toke it heauely, as well to haue brought them thether: as to haue bene dis­ceiued in electing them. Howe be it with his wysedom then he helped him selfe as muche as he coulde, in not manifesting any griefe in his harte: but he dessembled and made as though he sawe them not. For sage princes muste nedes feale thinges as men, but they ought to dissemble them as discrete. The Emperour presently would not admonish them, nor before any reproue them, but he let the feaste passe on, and also a fewe dayes after, the whiche being passed, the Emperour spake vnto them in secret, not telling them open­ly, wherein he shewed him selfe a mercifull prince: for open correction is vn­iuste, where secret admonition may take place. The thinges whiche Marcus Aurelius saide to those fiue maisters, when he put them out of his house, he him selfe did wryte in the third booke and the first chapter, vnder the title Ad stultos pedagogos. And saide that he said vnto them these, and suche other like wordes.

¶Of the wordes whiche Marcus Aurelius spake to fiue of the▪ xiiii maisters whiche he had chosen for the education of his sonne, and howe he sent them from his pallace for that they behaued them selues lightly at the feaste of the God Genius. Chap. xxxvi.

MY will was not, my frendes, to forsee that whiche can not be excused, nor I wyll not commaunde you that, whiche I ought not to com­maunde: but I desire that the gods of their grace doe remaine with me, and that with you the same iust gods may goe, and that likewyse from me, and from you, the vnlucky and vnfortunate chaunces may be withdra­wen. For the vnlucky man were better be with the dead: then remayne here with the liuing. Since that nowe I had receiued you, and with great dili­gence sought you, to that ende you should be tutors to my sonne (the prince Comodus) I proteste to the immortall gods, that I am sory, and that of your shame I am ashamed, and that of your paine, the greatest part is mine. And it can be no otherwyse, for in the worlde there shoulde be no frendship so streight, that a man therefore shoulde put his good name in daunger. The sages that I haue sought, were not prouided onely to learne the prince Co­modus: but also to refourme al those that liued euill in my pallace. And nowe I see the contrary, for where I thought the fooles should haue bene made wyse, I see that those that were wyse, are become fooles. Knowe you not that the fine golde defendeth his purenes among the burning cooles? and that the man endued with wysedome, sheweth hym selfe wyse, yea in the middest of many fooles? For truely as the golde in the fire is proued: so a­mong the lightenes of fooles, is the wisedome of the wyse discerned. Do not you knowe, that the sage is not knowen among the sages, nor the foole a­mong the fooles? but that amonge fooles wyse men doe shyne, and that a­monge the sages fooles are darkened: for there the wyse sheweth his wyse­dome, and the foole sheweth his folly. Doe not you knowe that in the sore woundes, the surgian sheweth his cunning, and that in the daungerous di­seases, the phisition sheweth his science? And that in the doubtful battailes the captaine sheweth his stoutnes, and that in the boysterous stormes, the [Page 156] maister sheweth his experience? So in like maner the sage man, in that place where there is great ioye, and solace of people, ought to shewe his wis­dome and discretion. Do not you know that of a moderate witte, there pro­ceadeth a cleare vnderstandinge, a sharpe memory, a graue persone, a quiet minde, a good name, and aboue all, a temperate tongue? For he only ought to be called wyse, who is discreate in his workes, and resolute in his wordes▪ Doe not you knowe that it litle auaileth to haue the tongue experte, the me­mory liuely, the vnderstāding cleare, to haue great science, to haue profounde eloquence, a swete style, and ample experience, if with all these thinges you be as maisters, and in your workes as wicked men? certainely it is a great di­shonour to a vertuous emperour, that he should haue for maisters of young princes, those which are schollers of vaine Iuglers. Doe not you know, that if all the men of this worlde are bounde to leade a good life, that those which presume to haue science, are muche more bounde then others are, whiche by their eloquence presume to confounde the worlde? For it is a rule certayne, that alwayes euill workes take awaye the credit from good wordes. And to the ende it seame not vnto you that I speake of fauour, I wyll brynge here into your memory an auncient lawe of Rome, the whiche was made in the tyme of Cinna, whiche saide: We ordeine and commaunde, that more greauous punishement be geuen vnto the sage for one folly onely commit­ted by him openly: then to the simple man for a greater offence cōmitted se­cretly. O iuste, & very iust law: O iust, and happy Romaines, I saye vnto all those that togethers did finde, & ordeine the law. For the simple man sleyeth but one man with his swerde of wrath: but the sage killeth many by the euil example of his life. For (according to the saiyng of the deuine Plato) the prin­ces and sage sinne more by the euill examples whiche they geue: then in the faulte and offence that they committe. All the aunciente wryters affirme, that the triumphant Rome neuer began to decay, vntil the Senate was re­plenished with sage serpentes, and destitute of simple doues. For in the ende there is nothing that soner destroyeth princes, then thinking to haue about them wyse men, that should counsell them: when in dede they are malitious, that seke to deceiue them. What a thing was in olde time, to see the pollicie of Rome, before that Sylla and Marius did alter it, before that Catilina and Ca­tullus did trouble it, before that Iulius Caesar and Pompeius sclaundered it, be­fore that Augustus and Marcus Antonius destroyed it, before that Tiberius and Caligula did defame it, and before that Nero and Domician did corrupt it? For the most parte of these, though they were valiaunt & wan many Realmes: yet notwithstanding the vices whiche they brought vs, were more then the Realmes they wanne vs. And the worst of all is, that al our kingdomes are loste, and our vices abide still. If Liuius and the other historiographers doe not deceiue vs, in olde time they might haue sene in the sacret Senate, some Romaines so auncient, with heeres so honorable, others so expert mē, others aged so modest, that it was a wonder to see the maiestie they did represente, and a comforte to heare that which they sayde. I speake not that without teares whiche I wyll saye, that in steade of these auncient aged personnes, there sprange vp other younge bablers, the whiche are suche, and so manye, that all the common wealth is altered, and Rome her selfe sclaundered.

[Page]For that lande is cursed, and with muche miserie compassed: where the go­uernaunce of the young is so euil, that al wyshe for the reuiuing of the dead. If we credite that which the auncientes wrote, we cannot denay, but that Rome was the mother of all good woorke, as the auncient Grece was the beginner of al sciences. So that the effect of the Grekes was to speake, & the glory of the Romaynes was to worke. But nowe, through our woful [...] de­stenies, it is all contrary: for Grece hath banished from it all the speakers to Rome, and Rome hath banished from it all the sages to Grece. And if it be so (as it is in dede) I had rather be banished to Grece with the sages: then to take parte with Rome among the fooles. By the faithe of a Christian I sweare vnto you (my frendes) y^t I being young, sawe an Oratour in Rome which was brought vp in the pallace of Adrian my Lorde, whose name was Aristonocus: of his body he was of meane stature, leane of face, & also he was of an vnknowen countrey, but he had such a pleasaunt tongue, that though he had made an oration in the senate of three houres long, there was no mā but willingly was desirous to heare him. For in the old time, if he that made an Oration in the Senate were eloquent in his speache, he was heard no lesse, then if God Apollo had spoken him selfe. This philosopher Aristonocus was on the one parte so gentle in his speache, and on the other parte so diso­lute in his life: that he neuer spake worde to the Senate, but it deserued eter­nall memory: and out of that place they neuer sawe him do good worke, but it merited greuous punishement. As I haue sayed, though in that tyme I was young, yet I remember, that to see this philosopher so loste, all the peo­ple did pitie, and the worste of all was, that they neuer hoped of his amende­ment, since daily more and more he loste his honour. For there is no man, that by his eloquence may haue suche renowme: but in the ende he may lose it againe by his euil lyfe. Now I aske you, my frends, sithe you are in the re­putation of sages, which was better, or to saye better, whiche had bene lesse enuied: that this philosopher had bene a simple man, and of good life: then to be (as he was) a man of high eloquence, and of euill condition. It was vn­possible, if he had once heard of me that, whiche many times I haue hearde say of him, that he had not counsayled me, yea and futher to doe it he had constrained me, rather to chose the graue, then to lyue in Rome with infamy. For he is vnworthy to lyue amongest men, whose wordes of all are appro­ued, and his workes of all condemned. The firste dictatour in Rome was Largius, and the first lordes of the knightes, was Spurius. And from the tyme of the first dictatour, vntill the time of Silla and Iulius (whiche were the first tyrauntes) were foure hundred, and fiftie yeares. In the whiche space, we neuer redde that any Philosopher spake any vayne wordes, nor yet commit­ted any sclaunderous deades. And if Rome had done any otherwyse, it had bene vnworthy of suche prayse and estimation as it had: for it is vnpossible that the people be well gouerned, if the Sages whiche gouerne them, are in their liues dissolute. I protest to the immortall Gods, & sweare by the faithe of a Christian, that when I consider that whiche at this present with myne eyes I see: I can not but sighe for that that is past, and wepe for that which is present. That is to wete, to see then howe the armies fought, to see howe the younge men trauayled to be good, to see howe well princes gouerned, to [Page 157] se the obedience of the people. and aboue all, it was a merueilous thing to see the libertie and fauour whych the Sages had: and the subiection and small estimation that the simple were in. And nowe by our euil fortune, we see the contrary in our woful time, so that I cannot tell, whither first I should be­waile the vertues and noblenes of them that are past, or the vices & infamies of these whych are present. For we neauer ought to cease from praysinge the goodnes of the good: nor to cease from reprouyng the wyckednes of the euill. O that I had bene in that glorious worlde, to se so honorable and auncient sages, to gouerne in pleasure: and for the contrary what grefe & pytye, shame and dishonor is it, to se now so many dissolute sages, and so many yong and busy heades, the whych (as I haue sayd) doe destroye all Rome, and slaunder all Italy, and dishonor them selues. For the want of vertue whyche in them a­boundeth, endomageth the comon wealth: and the other vyces wherewith they are replenished, corrupteth the people in such sorte, that y^e weale publyke is more dyshonored through the dissolute life of them, then it is anoyed by the weapons of their enemies. I say agayn, and repete, my frendes that the prosperity of Rome endured .400. and .xv. yeres, in the whych time there was a great maiestie of workes, and a marueilous simplicity of wordes, & aboue all, that the best that it had was, that it was rich of the good and vertuous men, and poore of euill and vitious loyterers. For in the end that citie cannot be called prosperous, whych hath in it many people: but that which hath in it few vices. Speakyng therfore more perticulerly, the cause that moued me to put you from me is, bycause in the day of the great feast of god Genius, you shewed (in the presence of the senate) your litle wisedom, and great foly: for so much as all men did behold more y^e lightnes of your parson, then they did the follies of the iuglers. If perchaunce you shewed your folly, to thentent men should thinke that you were familiar in my royal pallace, I tell you that the errour of your thought was no lesse, then the euil and example of your work: for no man ought to be so familiar with princes, but (whether it be in sporte or in earnest) he ought to do him reuerence. Since I geue you leaue to de­parte, I know you had rather haue to helpe you in your iorney a litle money, then many councelles: but I will geue you both, that is to wete: mony for to bring you to your iournies end, and also counsels to the end you may lyue. And meruail not that I geue counsel to them, that haue an office to councel others, for it chaunceth oftetimes that the phisition do cure the diseases of o­thers, and yet in dede he knoweth not his owne. Let therfore the last word & counsell be when you shalbe in the seruices of princes and great lordes, that first you labour to be coūted honest, rather then wise. That they do chose you rather for quiet men: then for busy heades, and more for your fewe woordes, then for your much bablyng. For in the pallace of Princes, if the wise man be no more then wise, it is a great happe if he be moch estemed, but if he be an honest man, he is beloued and wel taken of all.

That Princes and other noble men ought to ouer see the tutours of their chil­dren, least they conceale the secret faultes of their scollers. Chap xxxvii.

VVe haue before rehersed what conditions, what age, and what grauity maisters ought to haue, which should bring vp the children of Princes. Now reason would we shold declare, what the counsels should be that [Page] princes shold geue to the maysters, and tutours of their children, before they ought to geue them any charge. And after that it is mete we declare, what the counsel shalbe whyche the mayster shall geue to hys dyscyple, hauyng the gouernement of hym.

For it is vnpossible ther should happen any misfortune: wher rype counsel is euer present. It shal seame vnto those y^t shal profoundly consider this matter, y^t it is a superfluous thing to treate of these thinges: for either princes chose y^t good, or els they chose y^e euil. If they chose not good maisters, they labour in vaine to geue thē good counsel: for the folish maiser is lesse capable of coūsel, thē the dyssolute scoler of holsome admonitiō. If perchaunce princes do make elections of good maisters, then those maisters, both for them selues, and also for others ought to minister good counsels. For to geue councell to the wyse man, it is either a superfluous dede, or els it cōmeth of a presumptuous man. Though it be true, that he whych dare geue councel to the sage man is pre­sumptuous, I saye in lyke maner, that the dyamonde beyng set in gold loseth not his vertue, but rather increseth in pryce & value: I meane, that the wiser a man is, somuche the more he oughte to desire to knowe the opinion of ano­ther: certainly he that doeth so cannot erre. For to none his owne councell aboundeth somuch, but that he nedeth the counsell and opinion of another. Though princes and great lordes do se with their eyes, that they haue chosen good maisters and tutors to teache their children: yet they ought not therfore to be so negligent of them selues, but that sometimes they may geue y^e may­sters counsell. For it maye be, that the maysters be both noble, and stout, that they be auncient, sage, & moderate: but it may be also, y^t in teaching children they are not expert. For to masters and tutours of princes, it is not somuche necessary that science doth abounde, as it is shame that experience shoulde want. When a riche man letteth out his farme or maner to a farmor he doth not only consider with him selfe before what rent he shall pay hym. but also he couenanteth with hym that he shall keape his groundes well fensed and ditched, and his howses well repaired. And not contented to receiue the thirde parte of the frute of his vine: but also he goeth twyse or thrise in a yeare to visite it. And in seyng it he hath reason, for in the end the one occu­pyeth the goods as tenaunte: and the other doth viewe the grounde as chefe lord. Then if y^e father of the family with so great diligence doeth recōmend y^e trees, and the groūd to the labourer: how much more ought the father to re­cōmend his children to the maisters? for the father geuing coūcell to the mai­ster is no other: but to deliuer his child to the treasurer of sciēce. Princes and great lords cānot excuse them selues of an offence, if after that they haue cho­sen a knight, or gentleman for to be maister, or els a learned & wise man to be tutour, they are so necligēt as if they neuer had had children, or did remember that their childrē, ought to be their heires: certainly this thing shold not be so lightly passed ouer, but as a wise man, (which is careful of the honor & profit of his child) he ought to be occupied, aswel in taking hede to the maister: as y^e maister ought to be occupied, in taking hede to the child. For y^e good fathers ought to know, whether the maister that he hath chosen can cōmaund, and whether his child wil obey. One of the notablest princes among the auncien­tes? was Sculeucus, king of the Assiriās and husband of Estrabonica (the daugh­ter [Page 158] of Demetrius, kyng of Macedony) a lady for her beauty in al Grece the most re­nowmed, thoughe of her fame in dede she was not very fortunat This is an olde disease, that hapneth alwayes to beautiful women, y^t ther be many that desire them, & mo that slaunder them. This king Seuleucus was first maryed with another woman, of whom he had a sonne called Antigonus, the whyche was in loue with the second wife of his father, that is to wete, with y^e quene Estrabonica, and was almost dead for loue. The whiche the father vnderstan­dyng, maried his sonne with her, so y^t she that was his stepmother, was hys wife: and she y^t was a faire wyfe, was a faire doughter, & he which was hys sonne, was made his sonne in lawe, & he which was father, was stepfather. The aucthor herof is Plutarke in his liues, as Sextus Cheronensis saith, in y^e third boke of the sayenges of the grekes. The king Seuleucus laboured diligently to bring vp his son Antigonus well, wherfore he sought him .ii. notable maisters, the one a greke, and the other a latine. The king Seuleucus here with not con­tented, prouided secreatly (by the meane of a seruaunt of his, named Parthe­mius) that he shold haue no other office in the pallace, but that what the may­sters taught or did to his sonne Antigonus in the day, he should secreatly come and tel him in the night. But by the dilligence of Parthemius, it came to the knowledge of the tutors that they had ouerseers: for in y^e end ther is nothing accustomably, but at the last wil be reueiled. Since the, ii. philosophers knew the secret, one day they sayd vnto the king Seuleucus these wordes. Mightye prince Seuleucus, since thou hast of trust committed thy son Antigonus into our hādes, why doest thou appoint thy seruaūt Parthemius as accuser of our liues? if thou countest vs euil, and him good, thou shalt showe vs great fauoure if thou wilt discharge vs, & commit to hym the tuition of thy son. For we let the to know, that to men of honor it is an vntollerable euil to shame thē: and no dishonor to licence them. Thou hast appointed Parthemius to goe and dog vs, to see what we do, or say openly, and afterwardes to make relation vnto the secreatly: & the worst is, that by the relation of the symple, we should be condemned beyng sages: for triacle is not so contrary to poison: as ignoraūce is to wisedom. And truly (most noble prince) it is a great matter, that dayly inquisition be made of man: for there is no beard so bare shauen, but that it wil grow againe. I meane, that there is no man of so honest a lyfe: but i [...] a man make inquisition, he may finde wherwithall to detect The king Seuleu­cus aunswered them. Consyder my frendes, that I do know right well, that neither the aucthoritie of the parson, nor the good creadite of renowme wold be steyned for any other frend in this world: & if the rude men do it not, much lesse ought the Sages to do it. For ther is nothing y^t men trauaile for somuch in this life, as to leaue of thē good renowme after their death. Since you are sages, and maisters of my sonne, and likewyse counsailers of my house, it is not mete you shold with any be offended: for by good reason he alone ought to be estemed in the pallaces of princes, y^t wil geue vnto the prince good coū ­cell. That which I haue sayed to Parthemius, was not for the doubt of your faith, neither to thinke any daunger in your aucthority. And if y^e thing be wel considered, it goeth well for you, and not euil for me: and the reason herof is, that either you are good, or els you are euil. If you be good, you ought to be glad that daily your seruices be reported vnto me. For the continuall betyng [Page] in the princes eares of the good seruices of his seruauntes: must nedes cause at the last their seruices to be well rewarded. Yf you be euill, and in teaching my sonne negligent: it is but reason that I be aduertised. For if the father be deceiued in his opiniō, the son shall receiue poison in his doctrine, and also bycause you shal not vndoe my realme, nor slaunder me by your euil counsel. If the fatal destenies permit that my son be euill, I am he that loseth most therby▪ for my realme shalbe distroyed, and my renowme vtterly abolished, & in the end my sonne shall not enioye the heritage. And if all passe so, you will care litel: for you wil saye you are not in the faulte, since the childe would not receiue your doctrine. Wherefore me thinke it not euill done to ouer see you, as you ouer see hym: for my dutye is to see that you be good, and your dutye is to trauaile that your disciples be not euill.

This kynge Seuleucus was an honorable man, and dyed aged (as Plutarke sayth, and Patroclus more plainely declareth, in the third boke of the warre of the Assirians) and for the contrarye hys sonne Antigonus, came to be a wycked Prince in all his doynges.

And this a man may wel perceiue, that if he had not bene of his father so muche corrected, and of the maisters so well instructed: without doubte he wold haue proued much more wicked then he was. For yong men on the on part beyng euill inclined, and on the other parte euill taught, it is vnpossible but that in the ende they should be vitious, and defamed. In my opininion, though children be not euill inclined, yet the fathers therof ought not to cease to correcte them: for in tyme to come those that write, will commende the di­ligence of the fathers in correcting the vices of the children. I haue declared this example, to councell that the father be not so necgligent, that he shoulde vtterly forget to loke vnto his sonne, thinking that now the maister hath the charge of him. And of my concell, that father ought in this thing to be so ad­uer [...]ised, that if at the first he beheld the child with two eies: that thē he shuld loke vnto him with .iiii. eies. For oftetimes it is more requisite that the may­sters be punished, then the scollers. Though princes are not daily informed of the life of the maisters, as king Seuleucus was: yet at the least oftetymes they ought to enquire of y^e state, of the life, & of the behauiour, both of y^e maisters, and also of the children. And this thing they ought not to do only once, but also they ought to cal the maisters, and councel them lykwise that they haue great respect to the doctrine of their children: thinking alwayes to geue them good counsel, to shew vnto their scollers afterwardes. For otherwyse y^e may­ster immediatly is discouraged, when he seeth the father to be necgligent, and nothing careful for y^e bringing vp of his children. Princes in one thing ought to haue great respect (that is to wete) lest the maisters beare with the secreat vyces of children. And he ought not to doe thus, but also to call them vnto hym, to aduyse them, to warne them, to praye them, to counsell and com­maunde them, that they haue great respect to the bringyng vp of his childrē: and further, that he geue them some notable councell, to thentente that the maisters afterwarde maye make relation therof to their scollers. For there is no manne so weake, nor childe so tender: but the force whyche he hath to be vitious, is ynough (if he wil) to be vertuous▪ I would nowe demaunde the maisters, and tutour, which do gouerne the children of noble and vertuous [Page 159] men, what more strength is required to be a glutton, then to be a sober man? to be a babler, or to be silent? to be dylygente, or to be necgligent? to be ho­nest, then to be dissolute? and as of those few I speake, so I coulde resite ma­nye others. In this case I wyll not speake as a man of science, but as one of experience: and that is, that by the faith of a christian I swere, that with lesse trauaill of the maister, and more profyte of the scoller, he maye be soner vertuous then vitious. For there is more courage required, in one to be euil: then strenght in another, for to be good. Also the maisters commenly haue another euill property, worse then this whyche is, they beare with their scol­lers in some secreat vices when they are yong: from the whiche they cannot be withdrawen afterwarde when they are olde. For it chaunceth oftetimes, that the good inclination is ouercome, by the euill custome: and certainly the maisters whych in such a case should be apprehended, ought to be punished as traitors pariured. For to the mayster it is greater treason, to leaue his disci­ple amongest vices: then to delyuer a forte into the handes of the enemyes. And let no man maruaill, if I call such a mayster a treator, for the one yel­deth the forte whych is but of stones builded: but the other aduentureth hys sonne, who is of his proper body begotten. The cause of al this euill is, that as the children of Princes ought to enherite realmes, and the children of greate lordes hope to inherite the great estates: so the maisters are more couetous then vertuous. For they suffer their puples to runne at their own willes whē they be yong, to thend to winne their hartes when they shalbe olde: so that the extreame couetousnes of the maisters now a dayes is suche, that it cau­seth goodmens sonnes commonly to be euil and vitious. O tutors of prin­ces, and maisters of great lordes, I do admonyshe you, and besides that I counsell you that your couetousnes deceiue you not, thynkynge that you shalbe better estemed for being clokers of vices: then louers of vertues.

For there is none (old nor yong) so wicked, but knoweth that good is better then euill. And further I say to you in this case, that oftetimes God permit­teth (when those that wer children become old) their eyes to be opened, wherby they know the harme that you haue done them, in suffering them to be vi­tious in thier youth: at what tyme your dutye had bene to haue corrected their vices. You thought by your goods to be honored for your flattery: but you find the contrary, that you are despised worthely. For it is the iust iudge­ment of god, that he that committeth euill, shall not escape without punysh­ment: and he that consealeth the euill committed, shal not liue vndefamed. Diadumeus the Historiographer, in the lyfe of Seuerus the .xxi. Emperour) de clareth, that Apuleius Rufynus, who hadde ben consull twise, and at that tyme was also tribune of the people (a man who was very aged and likewise of greate aucthoritie thoroughe oute Rome) came one daye to the Emperour Seuerus, and sayed vnto him in this sorte. Moste inuicte Prince, alwayes Augustus, know that I had .ii. children the whiche I committed to a mayster to bring vp, and by chaunce the eldest increasinge in yeares, and diminishing in vertues, fell in loue with a Romaine ladye, the which loue came to late to my knowledge: for to such vnfortunat men as I am, the disease is alwayes past remedy, before the daunger thereof commeth to our knowledge.

The greatest grefe that herein I fele, is, that his mayster knew and con­sealed [Page] the euill, and was not onely not a meanes to remedye it: but also was the chefe worker of the adultery betwene them to be committed. And my sonne made hym an oblygation, wherin he bounde hym selfe if he woulde bryng hym that romaine lady, he would geue hym after my death, the house and herytages whych I haue in the gate Salaria: and yet herwith not conten­ted, but he and my sonne together robbed me of much money. For loue is costlye to hym that maynteineth it, and alwayes the loues of the children, are chargefull to the fathers. Iudge you now therefore noble Prince, thys so heinous and slaunderous cause, for it is to muche presumption of the sub­iecte to reuenge any iniury, knowyng that the lorde hym selfe will reuenge all wronges. When the Emperour Seuerus hadde vnderstode this so heynous a case, as one that was both in name and dede seuere, commaunded good in­quisition of the matter to be hadde, and that before his presence the shoulde cause to appeare, the father, the sonne, and the mayster, to the ende eche one should alledge for his owne right: for in Rome none could be condemned for anye offence, vnlesse the plainetife had first declared the faulte before hys pre­sence, and that the accused shold haue no tyme to make hys excuse. The trueth then knowen and the offenders confessyng the offences, the Emperour Seue­rus gaue iudgement thus. I commaunde that this mayster be caste alyue a­monge the beastes of the parke Palatine.

For it is but mete that beastes deuoure hym: whyche teacheth others to lyue lyke beastes. Also I doe commaunde that the sonne be vtterly dysin­heryted of all the goodes of hys father, and banyshed into the Iles Balleares, and Maiorques.

For the chylde whiche from hys youth is vitious, oughte iustlye to be ba­nyshed the countrey, and dysherited of hys fathers goods.

This therfore (of the maister and of the sonne) was done by the complaint of Apuleius. Rufinus.

O howe vnconstant fortune is, and howe oft (not thynkyng of it) the threde of lyfe doth breake. I saye it, bicause if this maister had not bene coue­tous, the father hadde not bene depriued of his sonne, the childe hadde not bene banished, the mother had not bene defamed, the common weale had not bene slaundered, the master, of wylde beastes hadde not bene deuoured, neyther the Emperour hadde bene so cruell agaynst them, nor yet their na­mes in Hystories (to their infamies) hadde alwayes continued.

I doe not speake thys without a cause, to declare by writyng that whyche the euyll do in the world: For wyse menne ought more to feare the infamye of the litle penne, then the slaunder of the bablyng tongue. For in the ende, the wicked tongue can not defame but the lyuynge: but the litle penne doth defame them that are, that were, and the shalbe. To conclude thys, my mynde is, that the mayster shoulde endeuour hym selfe that hys scooller shoulde be vertuous, and that he doe not dispayre, though immediately for hys paines he be not rewarded. For thoughe he be not of the creature, let hym be assured that he shalbe of the creatour. For God is so mercyefull, that he ofte tymes takynge pitie of the swette of those that be good, chastneth the vnthankfull, and taketh vpon him to require their seruices.

Of the determination of the Emperour when he committed his childe to the tutours, whyche he had prouided for his education. Chapter. xxxviii.

CInna the Hystorien in the first booke of the times of Comodus declareth that Marcus Aurelius the Emperour chose .xiiii. masters learned, and wise men, to teache hys sonne Comodus, of the whyche he refused fyue, not for that they were not wyse, but for that they were not honeste. And so he kepte these nyne onely, whyche were both learned in the sciences, and also experte in bringyng vp the chyldren of the Senatours, thoughe in dede they wer ve­rye vnlucky in the bryngyng vp of the Prince Comodus. For this cursed prynce had nyne masters whych instructed him, but he hadde aboue nyne thousand vyces whych vndyd him. The emperour Marcus Aurelius made fyue bokes of declamations, and in the third booke the syxte Chapter, vnder the title ad Sa­pientes pedagogos, he brought in these nyne maysters, and perswaded them greatly that they should be diligent and attentyue to teach hys sonne Como­dus. And in this matter, he spake vnto them manye and graue sentences, the wordes whereof doe folow.

The matter is manifest in Rome, and no lesse publyshed thorough out all Italy, what paynes I toke to searche oute to manye Sages to enstructe my sonne Comodus: the whiche all beyng examined, I kept onely the wysest, and the best, and though in verye dede I haue done muche, yet I haue not done so muche as I am bounde.

For Prynces in doubtefull matters, ought not only to demaunde councel, of all the good that be alyue: but also to take payne to talke with those which are dead. That is, to reade the dedes of the good in their writynges. You were fouretene maysters chosen, whereof I haue put out fyue: so that pre­sently you ar but nyne, and if in dede you be wyse men, you shall not be offen­ded with that I haue done. For the greefe of euill thynges procedeth of wis­dome, but the admiration of good thynges commeth of small experience, I do not denay, but that wyse men do fele in them passions as men: but in the end, there is no arte nor science that doth excuse vs from the miseries of men. But that wher at I maruaile is, how it is possible that a wyse man shoulde meruaile at any thyng in this world: For if the wise man shuld be astonied at euery thing of the world, it appeareth that ther is litle constancy or vertue in him at all. Returnyng therfore to our particular talke, I haue taken you to be masters of my son, and you se, of many I chose a few, to the end that with few my son shold be taught. For as it is the fathers dutie to search out good masters, so it is the masters dutie to be diligent about his scoller. The nource of my sonne Comodus gaue hym sucke two yeres with her teates, at the gate of Hostia. And hys mother Faustine other two yeares brought him vp wan­tonly in Capua. How be it thys was a sufficient excuse. I woulde as a pitie­full father (yf I coulde) geue hym correction at the leaste thys twentye yeares. For I sweare by the immortall Goddes, that to a Prynce that shalbe an enheritour, one yeares punyshement is more worthe: then twenty yeares of pleasure. Synce the nources whyche geueth the chyldren sucke knoweth lytell, and synce the mothers whyche bare them doe loue them muche: and synce the chylde peraduenture (as yet) is but of a weake vnder [Page] standynge, they are occupyed about the thinges that are presente, conside­rynge that chastysemente in muche more betters for him, then pleasure.

But the wise man whyche hath vnderstandyng, oughte to thyncke of that that is past, and by much wysedome to prouyde for that that is to come: For he can not be counted wise, that onely in one thing is carefull. My sonne Co­modus was borne the laste daye of Auguste, in a citie by Danubio. I shall not forget the day that y^e gods gaue him vnto me: nor yet this day in the whiche I commit hym vnto you. Of greater reason I should remember that daye wherin I put him to be taught: then the day whych I saw him to be borne. For the gods gaue hym me, as I gaue hym to you mortall, since he is a man, but you shall restore him againe vnto me, and I lykewyse him to the Godds as immortall, if he be wyse. What will you I saye more vnto you, but if you regarde that any thinge at all whyche I saye, you will regarde much more thys whych I wyll saye. When the Gods determined that I should haue a child of my wyfe, and that my wofull destenies deserued, that I should haue such a child: truly the Gods made me a man in the sprite, and I begot him a beast amongest the beastes in the fleshe. But if you will, you may make hym a god amongest the gods by science. For princes winne infamye, for beynge fearse and selfe willed: but they get good renowme, for beyng wise and pa­cient. I would you should apply this busines well, and therfore it is necessa­rye that you examine him ofte. For it is a general rule, that the precious iewel is litle regarded, when he whyche hath it knoweth not the value thereof. I require that you aunswere me in this one thynge. What dyd I geue vnto my sonne Comodus, when the gods gaue him me, but frayle and mortall flesh? by the corruption wherof hys life shal ende: but you shal geue hym highe doc­trine, whereby he shall alwayes deserue perpetuall memore. For the good re­nowme is not gotten, by that the weake fleshe doth: but by that whyche the highe vnderstandyng immagyneth, and by that the curious harte executeth. O if his tender age knew what I gaue to his weake flesh, and if his dul vn­derstanding could com to y^e wisedom which you may geue him: he wold call you his right fathers, & me but his stepfather. For he is the true father that geueth vs doctrine to liue: and he is but an vniust stepfather, that geueth vs fleshe to dye.

Certainely the naturall Fathers of children, are but their open enemyes, and cruell stepfathers: synce we geue them such dul vnderstanding, so weake a memory, a wyll so frowarde, lyfe so shorte, fleshe so frayle, honour so costly, health so vncertaine, ryches so troublesome, prosperitie so scarse, and death so fearefull. Finally we geue them a nature subiecte, to infinite alterations, and great misfortunes. Reason woulde not you shoulde lytle regarde that whiche I committe vnto your iudgement, that is to wete, that you haue the charge of Comodus my sonne: For the thynge that Prynces chefely ought to foresee, is to whome they oughte to recommende the gouernement of theyr children. To be a mayster and Tutor of a Prince in the yearth, is to haue an office of y^e Gods whyche are in heauen: bycause he gouerneth him that ought to gouerne vs, he teacheth him that ought to teache vs, he chastneth him that ought to chasten vs. Finally he commaundeth one, that oughte to com­maunde all. What wyll you that I saye more vnto you. Truly he that hath [Page 161] the charge to teache the children of Prynces, and great Lordes, is as the go­uernour of the shyppe, a standarde of a battaylle, a defence of the people, a guyde of the wayes, a father of the Orphanes, the hope of pupylles, and a treasourer of all: For ther is no other true treasore in the common wealthe but the prince whyche doth mainteine and kepe it in good peace, and iuste iu­stice. I will tell you furthermore, to the ende you shall esteme it more, that when I doe geue you my sonne to teache, I geue you more then if I gaue you all the ryches of the Realme. For in him that hath the reformacion of the childes life, dependeth the fame of the Father after he is deade.

So that the Father hathe no greater renowme: then to see hys chylde leade an honeste lyfe. I praye the Gods that they maye be so mercyful, and the fatall destinies so fortunate, that if tyll thys time you haue watched to teache the children of others, that from hence forwarde you watche to tea­che thys my sonne Comodus, whyche I truste shalbe to the comforte of all.

For the thynge that is vniuersally good to all, oughte to be preferred be­fore that whyche tendeth but to the commoditie of some. You see my frendes, that there is a greate difference to teache the chyldren of Prynces, and to teache the children of the people: & the cause hereof is, that the greatest parte of those come to the scooles and vniuersities to learne to speake, but I doe not geue you my sonne Comodus, to the ende you should teache hym to speake many wordes, but that you should learne him to do good workes.

For all the glorye of the Prynces is, that in the workes whyche he doth he be vprighte, and in the woordes that he speaketh he be very discrete.

After that the children haue spente manye yeares in scooles, after their Fa­thers haue spente muche money vppon them, yf perchaunce the chylde can dispute in Greeke or Latin anye thyng at all: thoughe he be lyghte and viti­ous, the Father thynketh hys goodes well imployed: For in Rome, nowe a dayes, they esteme an Oratour more, whyche can doe nought but bable: then a philosopher whyche is vertuous. O wofull men, that now lyue in Rome, and muche more wofull shall those be whyche hereafter shall succede: For Rome is no more that Rome whyche it was wont to be, that is to wete, that the fathers in olde tyme sente their children to scooles and studies to learne them to be silent: and nowe they sende them to learne to speake to muche. They learned them then to be sage and temperate: and nowe they learne them to be dissolute. And the worste of all is, that the scooles where the sage and pacient were wont to be, and from whence issued the good and vertuous workes: are nowe full of bablynge Oratours, and none issue oute from thence at this present, but the euill and vitious. So that if the sacred Romain lawes are exalted once in a weeke with their tongues: they are bro­ken tenne tymes in the daye in their workes.

What will you I say more, since I can not tel you any thing (without hur­ting my mother Rome) but that at this present al y^e pleasures of vain men, is to see their children ouercome others by disputing: but I let you vnderstand that all my glory shalbe, when my son shal surmount others, not in wordes, but in silence, not to be troublesome, but to be pacient: not in speakyng subtill wordes, but in doing vertuous workes. For the glorie of good menne is in workyng muche, and speakyng littell. Consider my frendes, and do not for­get [Page] get it, that this daye I committe my honour vnto you, I put into your han­des the estate of Comodus my sonne, the glory of Rome, the rest of the people which are my subiectes, the gouernement of Italye which is your countrey, and aboue all I referre vnto your discretions, the peace and tranquillitie of the hole common wealth. Therefore he that hath suche a charge, by reason ought not to slepe. For as the wise men say, to great trust, is required much diligence. I will saye no more, but that I would my sonne Comodus shoulde be so well taught, that he should haue the feare of god, and the science of phi­losophers, the vertues of the auncient Romaynes, the approued councell of the aged, the corage of the Romaine youth, and the constancy of you whiche are his masters. Fynally, I would that of al the good he shold take the good, as of me he ought to take the heritage, and succession of the Empyre. For he is the true prince, and worthy of the empyre, that with his eyes doth beholde the great signories he ought to enherite, and dothe employe his harte howe to gouerne it, wherby he shal lyue to the great profit of the common wealth. And I proteste to the immortall gods, with whom I hope to goe, and to the goodnes of my predecessours, whose faith I am bound to kepe. I proteste to the Romaine lawes, the whyche I dyd sweare to obserue in the conquest of Asia, wherein I bound my selfe to continue, and to the frendeshyppe of the Rhodiens, the whiche I haue offered my selfe to kepe, to the ennemitye of the Affricans, the whyche not for me, but for the oth of my predecessours I haue bounde my selfe to mainteine. And I proteste vnto the vessell of the hyghe Capitall, where my bones ought to be burnt, that Rome do not complaine of me beyng alyue, nor that in the worlde to come she curse me after my death: If perchaunce the prince Comodus my sonne (by his wicked lyfe) should be oc­casion of the losse of hinderaunce to the common wealth. And thoughe you whych are his masters vndoe it, for not geuyng hym dew punishement, and he thoroughe hys wicked gouernement destroye it, yet I discharge my selfe by all these protestations that I haue made, whyche shalbe witnesses of my will. For the father is bound no more towardes his child, but to banyshe hym from his pleasures, and to geue him vertuous masters. And if he be good, he shalbe be the glory of the father, the honor of him selfe, the wealth of you, and the profite and comoditie of the hole common wealth.

That tutours of Princes and noble mens children ought to be very circum­spect, that their scollers doe not accustome them selues in vices whilles they are yonge, and speciallye they must kepe them from foure vices. Chap. xxxix.

THe good and experte Surgeons, vnto greate and daungerous woun­des, do not onelye applye medycynes and oyntementes whyche doe resolue & stop: but also do minister other good playsters, for to restraine and heale them. And verelye they shewe them selues in the one no lesse sage, then in the other experte: for as greate dylygence ought to be had to preserue the weake fliesh, and to purge the rotten wounde, to the end it maye be hea­led: so lykewise the wyse trauailers learne diligentely the waye, before they take vppon them any iourney, that is to wete, yf there be any daungers in the waye, eyther of robbynge or sleyinge, wherein there is anye by pathe that goeth oute of the hyghe waye.

[Page 162]Truly he that in this point is circumspecte, is woorthy to be counted a sage man: For accordyng to the multitude of the perylles of the world, none can be assured, vnlesse he know first where the daunger is, wherin he may fal. To shew therfore that which by these parables I meane, I saye, that the tutors and masters of princes, and great Lordes, ought not to be contented onely to know what science, what doctrine, and what vertue they oughte to shewe and teache their scollers: but also with greater care and diligence the yought to know from what euils or wicked customes they ought to withdraw thē. For when the trees are tender and yong, it is more necessary to bowe them, and cut of the superfluous braunches with knyues: then to gather their fur­tes with Baskettes.

Those which take vpon them to gouerne Moyles, of great pryse & value, and those that tame and breake horses of a good race, take great paines that such beastes be light, that they leape wel, and be well made to the sporre, and bridel: but they take much more paines that they be gentill, familiar, & faith­full, and aboue all, that they haue no euill qualities. Then sith it is so, masters ought diligently to watche (if they be good) that in yong Princes there be no apparaunce of any notable vices. For al the vertues which y^e yong do learne, doth not them so much profit: as one onely vice doth them hurte, if they doe therunto consent, knowyng that therby they may be herafter blamed or de­spised. For if any man knew a beast, that is wyld and stoburne, and not gen­till, and will bye him at greate pryce: suche a one hath his head more full of follyes then of wysedome.

Albeit that maisters ought to withdraw their scollers from many euil cu­stomes, amōgest all there ar foure principall, in any of the which if the prince be defamed, the maister which hath taught him should deserue great punish­ment. For according to the humaine lawes, and customes, al the domage and harme that the beastes do the vineyarde, the keper that hath charge ther­of, shall (as he is bound) recompence.

First the maisters ought to refraine in suche sort the tonges of their scol­lers, that neyther in sport nor in earnest, they permit thē to tell lyes. For the greatest faulte that is in a good and vertuous man, is to be briefe in y^e truth: and the greatest villanye that is in a vicious man, is to be long in lyes, Merula in that .v. booke of Cesars saith, that the firste war that Vlpius Traianus made, was against Cebalus king of Daces, who rebelled against the Romaines, and with no smal victorie ouercame the Emperour Domitian, in a battaile which they fought togethers. For as Nasica sayd, the pleasures that Rome had to see many victories were not so greate: as the displeasure was whyche she toke, to see her selfe once ouercome. The good Vlpius Traianus gaue battaile to kyng Cebalus, wherin Cebalus was not onely ouercome, but also taken, and afterwardes broughte before the emperour Traianus, whyche sayde vnto him these wordes. Speake Cebalus, why didest thou rebell agaynst the Romay­nes, since thou knowest that the Romaynes are vnuincible. The kyng Ceba­lus aunswered him. If the Romaines could not be ouercom, how did I then ouercome the Emperour Domitian.

Traian the Emperour sayde vnto hym againe: Thou art greatly deceyued (kynge Cebalus) to thinke that when thou ouercamest the Emperour, thou [Page] haddest ouercome: the Romaines. For when that Romulus founded Rome the Gods ordeyned, that though their emperour dyed in anye battaile, yet not withstandyng it is not to be thought that the empyre is ouercome. The Hy­storiographers made a great matter of the wordes that this Vlpius Traianus spake. For therin he shewed, that the Romaine empire was vnuincible.

After that this kyng Cebalus was dead, and that (for his desertes) he was depriued: as the Emperour Traian was a mercifull prince, so he prouided that a litel child that Cebalus hadde, shoulde be brought vp in his pallace, with in­tention that if the childe became good, they woulde geue hym the Realme whiche his father (thorough Treason) hadde loste.

For in Rome there was an auncient lawe, that all that whiche the father lost by treason, the sonne should recouer by hys faithfull actes. It chaunced, that the good Traian takyng his pleasure in the gardins of Vulcan, sawe the sonne of kyng Cebalus, and many other yong children of Rome, stealynge fruite forth of an orchard, and it is no wonder, for the Locustes did not so much harme to the Corne, as the children do to the fruites, when they entre into the orchardes. When y^e emperour afterwardes demaunded him frō whence he came, he aunswered: from his studye hearyng Rethoricke: but in dede he came from stealing of fruite. The emperour Traian was so angrie & displeased that the child was a lyer, that he commaunded he should vtterly be depriued and made voyde of al hope: to recouer y^e realme of his father. The Emperour Traian was greatly importuned, as well of straung Imbassatours, as of hys owne Countrey men, that he would chaung that cruel sentence: For prynces in a furie do commaund that, which when they are pacient they doe vndo. The emperour Traian aunswered them, if the father of this child which was kyng Cebalus had bene a true prince, he had not loste hys lyfe, neyther hys Realme, nor had not put me & thempyre so many times in daunger: but since the father was a lyer, and the sonne is not true, it were to vniust a thynge to render him the Realme, For to me it should be great reproche, and to our mo­ther Rome as much dishonour, that she beyng the mother of truthe, shoulde geue realmes to children beyng lyers. This was it that Vlpius Traian spake vnto the sonne of kyng Cebalus. Marcus Aurelius the .xvii. Emperour of Rome had .ii. sonnes, as before we haue rehersed, the eldest of the whiche was called Comodus: and his father procured greatly to disinherit him of the empire: For he would that the second son named Verissimus should haue inherited it: and he did not onely determine it, but also spake it oft times openly. For that thing is with great difficulty dissembled, y^t excessiuely is beloued By chaunce an olde Senator, and frend of Marcus the emperour, one daye, both goyng out of the Senate house, sayd vnto him: I meruaile at the much, most excel­lent prince, why thou doest disherite thy sonne which is eldest, to make thine heyre the yongest, knowynge that they are both thy sonnes, and that y^e gods haue geuen the no others but them. For the good fathers are bound to cha­sten their children, but they haue not licence to disherit them. The emperour Marcus Aurelius aunswered him. If thou were a greke philosopher, as thou art a Romain citizen, and if thou knewest the fathers loue towardes hys childe, thou wouldest not take pitie one my sonne whiche vndoeth the Em­pire: but thou shouldest haue compassion on me his father, which doth dishe­rit [Page 163] him. For the chyld scarcely knoweth what he loseth, but I that am hys father doe bewayle the domage whyche I doo vnto hym. For in the ende, there is not in the world so cruel a father: but if his sonne should be hurt with the pomell of the swerde in the hande, the father would fele (incontinentlye) the dent of his blade at his harte. In this case, I sweare vnto the by the im­mortall gods, that I do that whyche I would not do: and I take that from him whyche I woulde not take. For Anthonius my lorde and father in lawe, gaue me the empire, for no other cause, but bycause he neuer found in me any lye: and for this occasion I doe depriue my sonne from it, for that I neuer found in him any trueth. For it is not mete that the Empire being geuen vn­to me for that I was true: should be left inheritage to him that is a lier. For in the ende it is better y^t the sonne do lose the heritage, then the father shoulde lose his renowme. By these two examples, those whiche are the tutors and maisters of princes and great lordes may see, how to be diligent to kepe them from lyes, whilest they are yong: and it ought to be in such sorte, that neither in pastime, neither in earnest aunswering they should be suffered once to tell a lye. For those that for their pleasure were accustomed to lye in their youth: will not fayle for their profite to lye in their age.

Secondarely, the tutors and maysters ought to keepe their disciples, that they be no gamesters, and that they doe not accustome them selues in theyr youth to be vnthriftes: for it is a great token of the decay of the Empire, when the Prince in his youth is affectionated to play. Experience sheweth vs, that playe is a vice, as Seneca sayeth, whiche hath the propertie of a raging dogge: with whome if a man be once bitten (vnlesse he hath present remedie) forthe with he runneth madde, and the disease also continueth with him vncurable vntill the houre of his death. Players not without a cause are compared to madde dogges: for al those that vse it, hurt theyr conscience, lose their honour, and consume theyr substance. It chaunseth oft that in that wherin maysters should be most circonspecte, they (for the most parte) are most negligent: that is to wete, that vnder the coullet of som honest recreation, they agree to their scollers to vse some pastyme, which if therin be conteyned no commendable exercise, the children ought not to vse it, nor yet the tutors to suffer it. For vice is of such a propertie, that if a chylde in hys youth dare playe apointe: it is to be feared when he commeth to yeares, he will playe hys cote. Wayinge the matter more depely, and aggrauating this vice, I saye further, and affirme: that when the children of Princes and great Lordes playe, a man ought not to make account of that which they may winne or loose: for that of all mise­ryes were most misery, if therefore my penne shoulde forbidde them play. For play ought not to be forbidden to yong children, for the money that they lose: but for the vyces whiche they winne thereby, and for the corrupte maners, which therin they learne. Octauian, who was the second Emperour of Rome, and one of the fortunatest Emperours that euer was, among all his vertues was noted of one thing onely, which is: that from his youth he was to much geuen to play at tennis. Of the which vice he was not onely admonished se­creatly: but also was forbidden it openly. For (as Cicero sayth in hys booke of lawes) when the Emperour was noted of any open vice, they might boldely reproue him in the open Senate. When Octauian was for this vice reproued [Page] by the Senate, they sayde he spake these wordes. You haue reason (O fa­thers conscript) in takyng from me my pastime: for it is necessary that the vertues of princes should be so many, that all men might prayse them: and their vices so fewe, that no man might reproue them.

These wordes were notable, and worthy of suche an excellent prince. For in the ende, consideringe their delicate and wanton brynging vp, toge­ther with the libertie that they haue: we ought to thanke and commende them for the good woorkes whiche they doe, and moste of all to reioyce for the vices whiche they wante. To our matter therfore, amongest the other wicked vices that children get in their youth, when they are players, this is one that they learne to be theues, and lyers. For the money that they playe-to demaunde it their fathers they are afrayde, and ashamed: and of their owne proper goodes, as yet they haue none in their handes. Wherefore a man may easely conclude, that if children playe, of necessitie they must steale. The sixe and thirty Emperour of Rome was Claudius Luganus, a man verye temperate in eating, moderate in apparell, vprighte in iustice, and very for­tunate in chiualrie: for he did not onelye repulse the Gothes from Illiria, but al­so vanquished in a battayle the Germaines, wherein were slayne aboue a hundred thousande. This battayle was nere vnto the lake Veracus, in a place called Luganus, and for a memory of that great battayle and victory they cal­led him Claudius Luganus. For it was a custome among the Romaines, that according to the good or euyll workes that princes did: so they were iudged, and knowen by suche surnames, whether it were good or euyll. This Em­perour had but one onely sonne, the whiche was a prince comely of perso­nage, and liuely of vnderstanding: but aboue all thynges geuen to playe, so that these good giftes whiche nature gaue him to woorke in vertue, he misused alwayes in playe. And amongest younge men he desyreth rather to haunte vyce: then among the philosophers to learne vertue. And hereat a man ought not to marueyle, for all men of great courage (vnlesse they be compelled to doe vertuous actes) doe exercise of themselues many detesta­ble vices. It chaunced when this young prince had no more to playe nor gage, he robbed out of his fathers chamber a ryche iewell of golde, whereof also his maister was preuy. And when the knowledge thereof came to the princes eares, he immediatly disherited his sonne of the Empire, and caused the head of the maister to be cut of his body, & all those likewyse that plaide with him, to be banished the countrey. This acte made euery man afrayde for correction executed after a good sorte hath this propertie: that it encou­rageth the good to be good, and feareth the wycked from their wickednes.

Merula in the tenth booke of Caesars (where as at large he mentioneth this matter) saieth, that the Romaines estemed more the banishemente of those players from Rome: then to haue drouen out the Gothes from Illiria, and to saye the trouthe they had reason. For a prince deserueth a greater crowne of glorie, to banishe the vitious from his pallace: then he doeth for chasing the enemies out of his dominion.

¶Of two other vices perillous in youthe, whiche the maisters ought to kepe them from: and that is to be shameles in countenaunce, and addicted to the luste of the fleshe. Cap. xl.

[Page 164]THirdly tutors ought to trauayle, that the children whiche they haue in charge, be not light and worldly, nor that they doe consent that they be to bolde or shameles. And I saye, that they doe not suffer them to be to light or vnconstant: for of younge men, inconstant and light, commeth oftē ­times an olde man, fonde, and vnthriftie. I saie that they doe not suffer them to be to rashe: for of to hardy young men, commeth rebellious and seditious persones. I say that they doe not consent they be shamelesse: for of the vn­shamefastnes, commeth sclaunderous persones.

Princes and great lordes ought to haue much circumspection, that their children be brought vp in shamefastnes, with honestie. For the crowne doth not geue so much glory to a kyng, nor the head doth more set forth the man, nor the iewell more adourne the breast, nor yet the scepter more become the hande: then shamefastnes, with honestie, beutifieth a younge man. For a man of what estate so euer he be, the honestie which he sheweth outwardly, doth hide many secret vices, wherewith he is endued inwardly. In the time of the reigne of the emperour Helius Pertinax (the nyntenthe Emperour of Rome) two consulles gouerned the commō welth, the one named Verus, and the other Mamillus, one daye they came to the Emperour and were humble suiters to his highnes, besechinge him, that it would please hym to receiue their two children into his seruice, the eldest of the whiche passed not as yet twelue yeares of age: the whiche request, after the Emperour had graunted, the fathers were not negligent to bryng them vnto hym, and being come before his presence, each of them made an oration, the one in Latine and the other in Greke. Wherewith the Emperour was greatly pleased, and all the residue amased: for at that time none serued the Romaine princes, but that he were either very apte to cheualry, or els toward in sciences. As these two children in the presence of the Emperour made their orations, the one of thē behelde the Emperour in suche sorte, that his eies neuer went of him, neither once moued his head to loke down to the earth: and the other contrary be­helde the earth alwayes, & neuer lift vp his head during his oration. Where­with the Emperour (being a graue man) was so highly pleased with the de­meanours of this child, that he did not onely admitte him to serue him at his table: but also he suffred him to enter into his chambre, and this was a pre­ferment of great estimation. For princes did not vse to be serued at their ta­bles, nor in their chambers with any, vnlesse they were of his owne kynred, or auncient seruauntes. And concerning the other childe, whiche was his compaignion, the Emperoure retourned againe to his father saiynge, that when hereafter he shoulde bee more shamefast, he woulde receiue hym into his seruice. And certainly the Emperoure had reason: for good and graue princes, ought not to be serued with light and shameles children. I woulde nowe demaunde fathers whiche loue their children very well, and woulde they shoulde be worthy, what it auaileth their children to be faire of counte­naunce, well disposed of body, liuely of sprighte, whyte of skinne, to haue yel­lowe heeres, to be eloquent in speache, profounde in science, if with all these graces that nature geueth them, they be to bolde in that they doe, and sha­melesse in that they saye? the authour hereof is Patritius Senesis, in the firste booke De rege & regno.

[Page]One of the moste fortunate princes was the great Theodosius, the whiche a­mongest all other vertues, had one moste singuler, which was: that he was neuer serued in his pallace with any young man that was vnshamefast, or seditious, nor with an olde man which was dishonest. For he said oftetimes that princes shall neuer be well beloued: if they haue about thē liers, or sclaū ­derers. This good emperour spake as a man of experience, and very sage: for if the counsellers and familiars of princes be euil taught and vnpacient, they offende many: and if they be liers, they deceiue all: and if they be disho­nest, they sclaunder the people. And these offences be not so great vnto them that committe them, as they be vnto the prince whiche suffreth them. The emperour Theodose had in his pallace two knightes, the one called Ruffinus, and the other Stelliconus, by whose prudence and wisdome the cōmon wealth was ruled and gouerned. And as Ignacius Baptista saieth, they twoo were the tutors & gouernours of the children of Theodose, whose names were Archa­dius, and Honorius: For as Seneca saieth, when good princes do die, they ought to be more carefull to procure maisters and tutors whiche shall teache their children, then to procure realmes or kingdomes for to enriche them. These twoo maisters, Stelliconus and Ruffinus had in the pallace of Theodose eche of them a sonne, the which were maruellous wel taught, and very shamefast: and for the contrary, the two princes Honorius, and Archadius, were euill ma­nered and not very honest. And therfore the good emperour Theodose tooke these children oftetimes, and set them at his table: and contrary he woulde not once beholde his owne. Let no man marueile though a prince of suche a grauitie, did a thing of so smal importaunce: for to say the truthe, the shame­fast children, and wel taughte, are but robbers of the hartes of other men.

Fourthly, the tutors and maisters of princes oughte to take good heade that when the younge princes their schollers waxe great, that they geue not them selues ouer to the wicked vice of the fleshe, so that the sensualitie and euill inclination of the wanton childe, ought to be remedied by the wisedom of the chaste maister. For this cursed fleshe is of suche condition, that if once by wantonnes the wicket be opened, death shall soner approche: then the gate shalbe shut agayne.

The trees which budde and caste leaues before the time, our hope is ne­uer to eate of their fruite in season. I meane, that when chyldren haunte the vice of the fleshe, whyles they be young: there is small hope of goodnes to be loked in them when they be olde. And the elder we see them waxe, the more we may be assured of their vices. And where we see that vice encreaseth: there we may affirme that vertue diminisheth. Plato in his seconde booke of lawes ordeyneth, and commaundeth, that younge men shoulde not marye before they were .xxv. yeares of age: and the younge maydens at .xx. because at that age their fathers abide lesse daungers in begetting them, and ge­uing of them lyfe, and the children also which are borne, haue more strength against the assaultes of death. Therefore if it be true (as it is true in dede) I aske nowe, if to be maried and get children (whiche is the ende of mariage) the Philosophers doe not suffer, vntill suche time as they be men: then I say that maisters ought not to suffer their schollers to haunte the vices of the fleshe when they be chyldren. In this case, the good fathers oughte not [Page 165] alone to committe this matter to their tutors: but also thereunto to haue an eye them selues. For oftetimes they wyll saye they haue bene at their de­uotions in the temples when in dede they haue offered veneriall sacrifice to the Courtisan. The vyce of the fleashe is of suche condition, that a man can not geue hym selfe to it, without grudge of conscience, withoute hurte of his renowme, without losse of his goodes, without shortenynge of his lyfe, and also without offence to the common wealth: for oftetymes, men encly­ned to suche vyce, doe rebell, trouble, and sclaunder the people. Seneca satis­fied me greatly, in that whiche he wryteth in the seconde booke De Clemen­tia to Nero, where he sayeth these wordes.

If I knewe the Gods would pardon me, and also that men woulde not hate me: yet I ensure thee for the vylenes thereof, I would not synne in the fleashe. And truly Seneca had reason, for Aristotle sayeth that all beastes after the acte of venery are sory, but the Cocke alone. O gouernours and mai­sters of great princes, and lordes, by that immortall God whiche created vs I coniure you, and for that you owe to the nobilite I desyre you, that you wyll brydle with a sharpe snaffle your charge, and geue them not the rayne to followe vyces: for if these younge chyldren lyue, they wyll haue tyme enough to searche, to followe, to attayne, and also to caste of those yokes. For through our frayletie, this wicked vyce of the fleashe, in euery place, in al ages, in euery estate, and at all tymes (be it by reason, or not) is neuer out of ceason What shall I saye to you in this case? if the chyldren passe the furi­ousnes of their youthe without the brydle: then they be voyde of the loue of God, they followe the trompet of sensualitie, after the sounde whereof they runne headlong into the yoke, and lose that whiche profiteth, to wynne that whiche hurteth? For in the carnall vices, he that hath the least of that that sensualitie desireth, hath muche more thereof then reason wylleth. Consi­dering that the maisters are negligent, the children bolde, their vnderstan­dynges blynded, and seing that their appetites doe accomplyshe beastly mo­tions: I aske nowe, what remayneth to the chylde, and what contentation hath he of suche filthe and naughtines? Truly since the fleashly and vicious man is ouercome with his appetite, of those that escape beste I see none o­ther fruite, but that their bodies remayne diseased, and their vnderstanding blynded, their memory dulled, their sence corrupted, their wil hurted, their reason subuerted, and their good fame lost, and worste of all, the fleashe re­maineth always fleshe. O how many yoūg men are deceiued, thinking that for to satisfie & by once engaging them selues to vices, y^t from that time for­ward they shal cease to be vicious: the which thing not only doth not profite them, but also is very hurtefull vnto them. For fier is not quenched with dry woode, but with cold water. But O god what shal we do, since that now a daies y^e fathers do as much esteme their childrē for being fine, & bold miniōs amōg womē, as if thei wer very profond in sciēce, or hardy in feles of arms? & y^t which is worst, thei ofttimes make more of their bastards gottē in adul­try, thē of their legitimate child cōceiued in matrimony. what shal we say thē of mothers? truly I am ashamed to speake it, but thei shold be more ashamed to do it, which is, because they would not displease their husbāds, thei hide y^e [Page] wickednes of their children, they put the children of their harlottes to the norse, they redeme their gages, they geue them money to playe at dyce, they reconcile them to their fathers when they haue offended, they borowe them money to redeme them when they are indebted: finally they are makers of ther bodies, and vndoers of their soules. I speake this incidently, for that the maisters would correcte the children, but the fathers and mothers forbydde them. For it litle auayleth for one to pricke the horse with the spurre, when he that sitteth vpon him holdeth hym backe with the brydle. Therefore to our matter, what shal we do to remedie this il in the young man, which in his fleshe is vitious? Truly I see no other remedye, but with moiste earth to quenche the flaming fier, and to keape him from the occasions of vice. For in the warre, honour by tarrying is obteyned: but in the vice of the fleshe, the victorie by flying is wonne.

¶How Princes and great Lordes ought to trauaile to administer to all equall Iustice Cap. i.

EGidius Figulus, one of the most famous & renowmed Phi­losophers of Rome, saide that betwene .2. of the zodaicall sygnes (Leo & Libra) is a virgin named Iustice: the which in tymes passe dwelled amonge men in earth, and after she was of them neclected, she ascended vp to heauen.

This Philosopher would set vs vnderstand that iustice is so excellent a vertue, that she passeth all mens capacitie: synce she made heauen her mansion place, & could fynde no man in the whole earth that would entertayne her in hys house. During the tyme that menne were chaste, gentle, pitiefull, pacient, embracers of vertue, honest, and true, Iustice remained in the earthe with them: but since they are conuerted vnto adulterers, tyraunts, geuen to be proud, vnpacient, lyers, and blasphemers, she determined to forsake them and to ascend vp into heauen. So that thys Philosopher concluded, that for the wickednes that men commit on earthe, Iustice hath lept from them into heauen. Though this seme to be a poeticall fiction, yet it comprehendeth in it hygh and profound doctrine: the which see­meth to be very clere, for where we se iustice, there are fewe theues, few mur­derers, fewe tyrants, & few blasphemours. Finally I say, that in that house or common wealth where iustice remaineth, a man cannot cōmit vice, & much lesse dessemble with the vicious. Homer desyrous to exalt iustice, could not tell what to say more, but to call kinges, the children of the great god Iupiter: and that not for the naturalitie they haue, but for the offyce of iustice whyche they minister. So that Homer concludeth, that a man ought not to call iust princes other, but the children of god. The deuine Plato in the fourth booke of his cō ­mon wealth saieth, that the chiefest gift god gaue to men is: that they beyng (as they be) of such vyle cley, should be gouerned by iustice. I would to God all those which reade thys writyng, vnderstood right well that which Plato said: For if men were not indued wyth reason, and gouerned by iustice, amongest all beastes none were so vnprofytable. Let reason be taken from man wher­wyth he is indued, and iustice whereby he is gouerned: then shall men easely perceiue in what sort he wyll lead his lyfe. He cannot fyght as the Elephant, nor defend hym selfe as the Tygre, nor he can hunte as the Lyon neyther labour as the Oxe: and that whereby he should profyte (as I thynke) is, that he should eate Beares & Lyons in his lyfe, as now he shalbe eatē of wormes after his death. All the Poets that inuented fictions, all the Oratours which made Orations, al the Philosophers which wrote bookes, al the sages which left vs their doctrynes, and all the Princes which instituted lawes ment no­thing els, but to perswade vs to think how briefe & vnprofitable this lyfe ys, & [Page] howe necessary a thing iustice is therein. For the filth & corrupcion which the body hath without the soule: the selfe same hath the common welth wythout iustice. We cannot deny but that the Romaynes haue bene proude, enuyous, aduouterers, shamelesse, & ambicious: but yet with all these faultes they haue bene great obseruers of iustice. So that if god gaue the so many tryumphes beyng loden and enuironned with so manye vices: it was not for the vertues they had, but for the great iustice which they did administer. Plinie in hys se­cond booke saieth, that Democritus affirmed there were two gods which go­uerned the vniuersall worlde: that is to wete, Rewarde and Punishement. Whereby we may gather, that nothing is more necessary then true and right iustice. For the one rewardeth the good, & the other leaueth not vnpunished the euill. Saint Austyne in the fyrst booke De ciuitare dei sayeth these words. Iustyce taken awaye, what are realmes but dennes of theues? truely he had great reason. For if there were no whips for vacabondes, gags for blasphe­mers, fynes for periury, fyre for heretiques, sworde for murderers, galouse for theues, nor prison for rebelles: we may boldly affirme that there woulde not be so manye beastes on the mountaines, as there woulde be theues in the cō ­mon wealth. In many thinges or in the greatest parte of the common welth, we see that bread, wyne, corne, fyshe, woll, and other thinges necessary for the lyfe of the people wanteth: but we neuer sawe but malicious menne in euerye place dyd abounde. Therefore I sweare vnto you, that it were a good bar­gayne to chaunge all the wycked menne in the common wealth, for one onlye poore sheepe in the sylde. In the comon wealth we see naught els but whip­pyng dayly, beheddyng, slayinge, drownyng, and hanginge: but notwithstan­dyng this, the wicked whiche remayne styll are so many in nomber, that if all those shoulde be hanged that deserue it by iustyce, a man could not fynd hang­men sufficient, nor gallowses to hange them vppon. Admitte according to the varietie of realmes & prouinces, that dyuers lawes and customes haue bene instituted therein: Yet for a truth there was neuer nor neuer shalbe found any nation or common wealthe in the worlde so barbarous, but hath bene foun­ded of iustice. For to affirme that menne can bee preserued wythout iustice, is as muche as to saye the fishe can liue wythout water. Howe is it possible that a common wealth may liue without iustice: sith without her cannot bee ruled one onelye personae? Plinie in an epistle saieth, that he him selfe hauinge the charge of a prouince in Affrike, demaunded an olde man and in gouernement experte, what he myght doe to administer iustice well? the aged manne aun­swered. Doe iustice of thy selfe, yf thou wilt be a minister thereof: For the good iudge, wyth the ryght yarde of hys owne lyfe, ought to measure the whole state of the common wealth. And he sayde further, if thou wylt be right wyth menne, and clean before god, beware of presumpcion in thyne offyce. For the proude and presumptuous iudges often tymes doe contrary in their wordes, and also exceade in theire deedes. Plinie also saieth that he profited more with the counsayle thys olde man gaue hym; then wyth all that euer he had reade in his bookes. O to howe muche is he bounde that hath taken vppon him to administer iustice? For if such one be an vpright man, hee accomplisheth that whereunto he is bounde: but if suche one of hym selfe bee vniuste, iustlye of god he ought to bee punished, and lykewyse of menne to bee accused.

[Page 2]When prynces commaund their seruaunts or subiectes any thing, & that they cannot accomplish them in such sorte as they had charge to do: then he ought to haue them excused (those excepted) whiche gouerne realmes & prouinces. For no man leaueth to administer iustice, but for want of knowledge or expe­rience: or els through aboundaunce of affection or malice. If a captaine lose a battaile he may excuse hym self, saying his men were fled when they shoulde haue assaulted their enemies. A poast may excuse hi self for y^t the waters we [...] so high. A hunter may say the beast is escaped another way & others such like: but a gouernour of a common wealth, what excuse can he haue that he dothe not iustice? Conscience ought to burden hym, & also he ought to be ashamed to take vpon him the charge of any thing, if he doute to bring it to effecte: for the shamefast faces & haute courages either ought to put that in execution which they take vpon them, or els they ought to shew a lawful cause why it tooke no effect. Let vs know first what iustice is, & then we shall knowe what is mete for the administracion therof. The office of a good iudge is to defend the com­mon welth, to help the innocent, to ayde the simple, to correcte the offender, to honour the vertuous, to help the orphanes, to do forthe poore, to bridel the ambicious: finallye by iustice he ought to geue eche one his owne, & to dispossesse those which hold any thing wrongfully of others.

When a prince commaundeth any man to take the charge of iustice, & such one doth not seeke it of him selfe, if perchaunce afterwardes he did not in all points vprightly in the administracion therof, he might haue some excuse, say­ing that though he hath accepted it, it was not with minde because he woulde erre, but because with good will he would obey. What shall we saye of manye which without shame, without knowlege, without experience, & without con­science, do procure the office of iustice? O if princes knew what they geue whē they geue the charge to any to gouerne the common wealth? I sweare vnto you, that they were better to giue them goods to fynd them for .20. yeres: then for to trust them wyth the charge of iustice .20. daies. What a thing is it to see some men shamelesse, dishonest, great talkers, gluttons, ambitious, & coue­tous: the whiche wythout anye reasonable cause aucthority or knowledge, de­maunde of prynces an office of iustice, as if by iustice they dyd demaund their own? Would to god the geuer would haue an eye to those whych in this wyse do demaunde. But what shal we say of those that doe sollicite thē, procure thē, importune them, beseche them, & more then that, euen as wythout shame they do demaund it, so wythout conscience lykewyse they buy it. There remayneth in this case more as yet, that is, that if those cursed men do not attayne to that whych they demaunde, & if those (hauing no conscience) doe not geue it: then they blaspheme & complayne of those whych are in fauour with princes, as yf they had done them greate iniurye. O what trouble is it to good men to ac­complishe the desyre of the euill. For the couetous and ambicious persons doe but desyre that the good men had the lyke payne in geuyng that they haue in demaunding. Many tymes I haue thought with my selfe, wherin so many damages of the common wealth should consist, such disobedience, such contra­rieties, and so many theftes: and in the ende I fynde, that all or the most part procede in that, that they prouyde for ministers of iustice, not for conscience sake, but for couetousnes onely. Admyt that it appertayne to all to desyre and [Page] procure iustice: yet to none it appertaineth so muche to procure and defend it, as to the royall personne, whiche the subiectes ought some tyme to feare: but princes are bound to minister it equally to all. It is a great matter that prin­ces be pure in lyfe, and that theire houses be well ordered, to the end that their iustice be of credyte and auctoritie: For he which of him selfe is vniust, geueth no hope that an other at hys handes shoulde haue iustice. He whiche cannot gouerne his owne house can euill gouerne the whole common wealth. These princes which are true in theire wordes, cleane in theire lyues, & iust in theire woorkes: though some tyme they erre in the administratiō of y^e cōmon welth, all excuse them, sayeng that they erre not thorough the malyce of them selues, but rather thorough the euill counsayle of others. So that all which the good prince doth they commende, and all the euill that chaunceth they excuse. Plu­tarche in the seconde booke of hys common wealth sayeth, that herein some princes differ from others: For the euyll prince is onely obeyed, but the good prince is obeyed, feared, and loued. And more ouer he that is good, maketh heauy thinges light with his goodnes: and the tyraunt that is euyll, maketh thinges whiche are light to be very heauy through his naughtynes. Happy is the Prince whiche is obeyed: but muche more happy he, which is obeyed, fea­red, and loued. For the body is weary often tymes to obeye: but the harte is neuer constrained to loue. Titus the Emperour was once demaūded of these 2. thinges, that is to wete: whether to rewarde the good, or to punish the euill were for a prince more naturall. He answered. As naturall as bothe the right and left arme is in a man: so necessary is reward & punyshement in a prince. But as we helpe our selues more with the right arme then with the lefte: so the prince ought more to endeuour him selfe to rewarde then to punishe. For punishemement ought to be by the handes of a straunger: but reward ought to be wyth hys owne proper handes. When we perswade princes to be iuste, and that they doe iustice, it is not to be vnderstanded that they should behead murtherers, bannishe rebelles and sedicious persones, hange theues, and bu­rye felons aliue. For suche or other lyke thinges, rather appertaine to bloudy hangemen, then to pitiefull kings. All the profite of iustice is, in that the prince be honest of person, carefull for hys housholde, zelous of the common wealth, and not large of his conscience. For princes ought not to bee commended for murderyng many cruelly: but for refourmyng the common wealth louyngly. Plutarche in the comfortable oration that he wrote to Appoloni, speakynge of the lawes whiche Promotheus gaue to the Egiptians: amongest the residue he resited these three that followe.

We ordeine and commaund, that princes laye not handes on others for a­ny crymes or offences done vnto hym selfe. For princes ought not to vse their handes to reuenge theire owne iniuries: but rather by iustice to defende o­ther that be iniuried.

We ordeine and commaund, that all tymes when they shalbe in their com­mon wealth and not in warres, they shal not weare weapons defensiue, and muche lesse offensiue. For good princes neither ought to be hastye, to the end they may kill: nor yet to haue vyces, whereby they may be killed.

We ordeine & cōmaund, that the prince do not onely not kill with his hāds, but also that he do not see them do iustice with his eyes.

[Page 3]For howe muche noble and woorthy a thing it is, before the presence of a prince that all shoulde receiue honour: so sclaunderous a thing it is that anye in his presence should loase their lyues.

¶The way that princes ought to vse in chosing theire iudges and officers in their countreys. Cap. ii.

SParthianus in the lyues that he wrote of .30. tyrauntes saide, that Ciriacus the tyraunt, had a memoriall made of certeine of the Senatours whome he woulde haue killed: and when the thinge was discouered they slewe him. They founde in the handes of an other tiraunt named Regilius, after he was deade, a memoriall of those whiche with his owne handes he had depri­ued of their lyues: wherefore they afterwarde depriued him of his buriall O how many iudges are there in this worlde, that do asmuch auaunce them sel­ues of those whom they haue caused to be whipt, to be slaine, to be beheaded, to be hāged quartered & slaine: as others do which haue redemed many cap­tyues, or haue maryed many orphanes. Those iudges which according to the order of lawes, customes, and iurisdiccions doe punishe the euill, I doe well allowe: but to reioyce and auaunce them selues of them whome they haue condemned, I vtterly abhorre. For the vertuous and christian iudge ought rather to shed teares in the churches: then by affection to shed bloude of men in the seate of iudgement. And for the confirmacion of that whiche I haue sayde, I affirme, that the good iudge and gouernour of the common wealth, ought not to beare in mynde the murthers and slaughters done by others: but to recorde the iniuries whiche they haue done them selues. For in other mens offences we ought to be silent: and for our owne iniquities we ought to be penitent. Iudges execute some punishementes, whiche menne disallowe, and god doth approue: an other tyme god condemneth thē, though the world do allowe them: therefore the surest thing for suche iudges is, not to reioise of their brethren whom they haue corrected, but what they them selues for their owne offences haue deserued. In iudging others, by false witnes, the iudges manye tymes against theire wils doe erre: but in theire owne matters they can neuer erre (vnlesse they will) since the offences whiche we committe are alwaies certaine. Therefore it greueth mee that there bee some so euill: whiche beinge accused before god woulde excuse them selues before menne, yet theire owne brethren with false witnesses they dare condempne. Greate care ought princes to haue, to examine them whome they will make iudges and gouernoures. For the iudge whyche daylye maketh not an accoumpte with his conscience in secrete, shall commit euerye houre a thousande euylles in the common wealth. O poore and miserable common wealthe, where the gouernours and iudges thereof doe not cast theire eyes but vnto them wh [...]e they ought to chastise, where they doe not thynke in theire harte but howe they maye enryche theire coffers, where they doe not occupye theire handes but to take brybes, and doe not passe the tyme but in bankettes: And I sayde not wythout a cause bankettes. For there are manye iudges whyche imploye theyre studye more to geate frindes, to mayntayne theire state proudlye: then for to read bookes, to iudge mennes causes vprightly. The iudge which [Page] neuer readeth, the iudge whiche neuer studieth, the iudge whiche neuer ope­neth boke, the iudge which is neuer in his house, the iudge which day & night robbeth, howe is it possible that he execute one true iustice? There can bee no greater feare in a man, nor sclaunder more greate in the common welth, then when the iudge (who ought to iudge and chastise the offences of others) is al­waies ouerwhelmed with vices him selfe. The iudge which presumeth to be good, and wil be good, and desireth to be good: a manne shoulde finde him no where, vnlesse he be studying in his house, or sitting in the place of iustice. Let not princes trust vppon this, when they prouyde iudges and gouernours for to iudge, saieng: that if they fynde any euill, they wil soone cut him of, for suche are so euil, that if they want to meanes to get to those offices, they shal want no cautils nor corrupt frindes to suborne them therein. When princes & great lordes shall finde anye iudge euill, I counsaile them to auoide him immediat­lye, or that they shewe them selues not contented with his dooinges: for suche one shal forthwith enforce him selfe to doe iustice, with intencion that those of the common wealth myght desire him to be theire iudge. Although my penne doth reproue these Iudges whiche are negligent and carelesse, the whiche neither by knowledge can iudge, nor with stoutnes punishe. The iudges whiche iudge, and gouerne, ought not to be with all so familiar, that all dare take vppon them to aske him: for in this case if some commend his gentle cō ­uersacion, others will blame his parciall iustice. I counsaile, admonishe, and require Princes, that they content them selues not only to be true, pitifull, ho­neste, and vertuous, nor yet to be iuste: but that it is as well necessarie they be obseruers of iustice. For let them knowe that there is great difference, be­twene him that is iust, and an other that doth minister iustice: for to the prince that is good, commeth honour to his parsonne, but from him that ministreth iustice, commeth profite to his common wealth. Peraduenture it is no won­der to see the Prince that will tell no lye, and to see his ministers not to speak one truthe? peraduenture I do not thinke my self sclaundered, to se the prince temperate in eatinge, and to see all his seruauntes distempered bothe wythe eating and drinkinge? peraduenture, and it is no cause to muse vppon, to see the princes chaste and honeste: and to see theire seruauntes in fleshe, filthye and dissolute? peraduenture it is no cause to meruaile to see the prince iuste, and to loue iustice: and that verye fewe of hys ministers doe minister it.

The ende why all these thinges are spoken is, to aduertise Princes that they bee not so carefull to bee chaste, sober, true and iust, but that they know whe­ther theire gouernoures and iudges are corrupted, couetous, gredy, vnshame faste, lyers, or brybers. For if it toucheth vs much that oure Princes be good: so much more it toucheth vs that the ministers be not euil. One of the things wherein princes ought to prouyde with their iudges and gouernours is, that by no meanes they suffer theire lawes and auncient customes to bee broken in theire common wealthe: and that in theire steedes straunge customes bee not introduced. For the comminaltye is so variable in that they saye, and so light in that they aske, that they woulde daylye see a newe kinge, and hourely chaunge a newe lawe. Plinie in an epistle that he writeth to Escario saieth. Optime apud Persas capitalem per legem fuit prohibitum, nouos aut peregrinos [Page 4] mores inducere. As if he spake more plainelye. Amongest the Perses it was a lawe inuiolable, that no man shoulde bringe into the common wealth anye straunge custome: & for suche an offence they shoulde paye none other raun­some, but the losse of theire heades. As menne dayly doe diminishe in vertue (vnlesse by force they bee witholden) and augment in vanitie: so they woulde inuent newe deuyses and straunge customes, wherewith men shoulde be de­cayed, and the common wealthe destroyed. For straunge meates doe alter mennes stomackes. When those of Creta were vngentlye vsed of the Rho­diens, they did not praye to theire godes to sende them pestylence, warre, fa­min, or sedition amonge theire enemies: but that they woulde suffer some euil maners to bee brought in amongest theire people. Let not those thinke that shall reade this, that it was a small curse those of Creta desired, and that it was a small reuenge whiche God gaue them of theire enemyes, if he gaue them that whiche they dyd requyre: For from warres, famin, and pestylence, some maye escape: but with the newe and straunge deuyses, we see all pe­rishe. Of manye thinges the Historians doe reproue the Emperour Sergius Galba, and for one alone they doe praise him, whiche is that he neuer consen­ted that in Rome anye newe lawe shoulde bee made, nor anye olde custome broken. And hee commaunded that those shoulde bee greuouslye punished, whiche brought in anye newe lawe: and hee rewarded those whiche put hym in mynde of anye olde custome, the whiche he commaunded to bee obserued. It is a mockerye, yea (better to saye) a sclaunder, to see that some younge iudges will doe that of the common wealthe, whiche a Taylour dothe of a gowne, (that is to saye) to tourne hym within and without, before and be­hynde, whiche they ought not to doe, nor the people to consent thereunto.

For the Prince dothe not sende them to make lawes, nor to bringe in newe orders, but to the ende that they doe onelye preserue the common wealthe in theire good customes. Princes ought also to take greate care that vnto lyttle and greate, riche and poore, they minister equall iustice, sithe there is no dy­uyne nor humayne lawe that geueth them power and aucthoritie to corrupt it, for if a Prince cannot wythout reason dispose his owne goods, much lesse he can make lawes and sell iustice. We doe not denye a Prince but that he is lorde of beastes, of fysh, of byrdes, of mynes, of mountaines, of seruaunts and of fyeldes, finallye that hee is lorde of the sea and lande: but therefore we will not graunt hym that he is lorde of iustice. For there is none other true Lorde of iustice but God, whiche is the selfe same iustice. When a Prince dyeth and maketh his will hee saieth: I leaue all my realmes & seignories to the prince my sonne and legittimate heire, and doe leaue vnto my seconde sonne such an estate and duchye, and to my doughter suche landes, and to all I recommend iustice, to the ende they doe obserue it, and cause it to bee obserued euerye one in his owne countrey. It is muche to note that the father dothe not saie that he leaueth vnto his sonne iustice, but that he doth recommend it vnto hym: so that the good princes ought to thinke that they haue not inherited iustyce of theire predecessoures in fourme of a patrimonie, but that God gaue it vntoo them of truste. Prynces of all thinges maye bee called lordes saue onelye of iustice, wherof they are but onely ministers. We dare boldly saye, y^t the prince or gret lord which iudgeth causes not according to y^e diuine wil, but accordīg to [Page] theire owne affection, we will not call him a iuste iudge, but a rouing theefe. For the prince is muche worse whiche robbeth god of iustice: then the theefe whiche stealeth the goods from menne. Suetonius Tranquillus reciteth much wickednes of Domician, and the greatest of all was, the poore, the Orphans and those whiche coulde doe little, he alwaies punished: & the other that were riche and of aucthoritie he pardoned. He compounded with some for money, and with other he dissembled for fauour. Lampridius saide of Alexander Seue­rus, the .25. Emperour of Rome, that he neuer kepte in his courte anye euyll man, or suffered any of his parentes to be vicious. And when he was deman­ded on a time why he banished one of his cosyns, since he was yong & a child? he aunswered them whiche entreated him for him and alleged: That though he was yonge & his cosin, yet Charior est mihi respub. as if more plainly he had said, I haue none other nerer of kinne to me in my palace then the common wealth. O high, and muche more higher woordes, worthy for a truthe to bee written in princes hartes, whereby they ought to be aduertised, that he said not, I take for my kynne one parte of the common wealthe. For the prince whiche feareth god, and desired to be founde iust, as he will indifferentlye bee obeyed of all, so ought he equally to administer iustice to all. If they wyll not credite me nor my penne, let them credit Plato in the bookes of his common wealth: who geueth libertie and lycence to all the Plebeyans, to the end that euery one doe loue his wife, his children, and his parentes. And this sorte of loue he will not that princes haue, to whome he perswadeth that first aboue all thinges they loue theire common wealthe: for if the Prince doe loue anye other thinge aboue his common wealth, it is vnpossible but that one daye for the loue of that he wil writhe iustice. When Plato gaue not lycēce to Princes not to enlarge their loue on diuers thinges, peraduenture he woulde coun­saile them that they shoulde doe some wronges. It chaunseth ofte tymes that princes doe omitte iustice, not for that they will not administer it but because they will not be enfourmed of thinges, whyche they ought to remedye, and looke vnto. And thys is vnexcusable, where he hurteth hys honour, and bur­deneth hys conscience. For at the daye of iudgement, thoughe he bee not ac­cused for malyce: yet he shalbee condemned for neglygence. The prince which is carefull, to see and enquire the dominages of his realmes: we maye saye that if he doth not prouyde for them, it is because he can doe no more, but hee whiche is neglygent to see them, and knowe them: we cannot saye but if hee leaue to prouyde, it is for that hee will not. The prince or greate lorde, whych dare take vppon him suche thynges, what name or renowme maye we geue him? I woulde not we shoulde call suche a one father of the common wealth: but destroyer of hys countrey. For there can be no tirannye greater, nor more vnequall: then for the Phisicion to aske his duetye for hys cure, before he hath begone to minister the medicine. That Princes and greate lordes desyre to knowe theire reuenewes, I alowe them: but in that they care not to knowe the dommages of theire common wealthes, I doe discommende them. For the people paye tribute to theire Princes, to the ende they shoulde delyuer them from theire enemies, and defende them from tyrauntes. For the iud­ges whyche wilbee euill, thoughe I saye muche, it will profite lytle: but to those whyche desyre to be good, that whiche is spoken (as I thinke) suffyseth. [Page 5] Notwithstandinge that whiche is spoken I say, that iudges and gouernours ought to consider well with them selues, and see if they wil be counted for iust ministers, or cruell tirauntes. For the office of a tyraunt is, to robbe the com­mon wealth: and the office of the good Prince is, to refourme the people.

Princes and greate lordes, haue more busynes then they thinke they haue: to see all those whiche will see them, and to heare all those whiche will cōplain vnto them. And the cause hereof is, admitte that whiche the subiect demaun­deth, he presentlye cannot geue, nor that whereof he complaineth, he cannot remedye: yet notwithstandynge they remaine after a sorte contented, sayeng that they haue nowe shewed all theire complaintes and iniuries to their prin­ces. For the wounded hartes often tymes vtter their inward paines whiche they feele, without any hope to receiue comfort of that which they desyre. Plu­tarche in his Apothegmes sayeth, that a poore and aged woman, desired kyng Philipe of Macedonie (whiche was the father of kinge Alexander the greate) that he woulde heare her with iustice: and sithe she was verye importunate vppon him, kyng Philip saied on a daye vnto her. I praye the woman be cō ­tented, I swere by the gods I haue no leasure to heare thy complainte. The olde woman aunswered the kinge. Beholde king Phillyppe, if thou hast not time to heare me with iustice, resigne thy kingdome, & another shall gouerne thy common wealthe.

¶Of an oracion whiche a villayne dwellinge neere to the ryuer of Danuby made before the Senatours of Rome, concerning the tyranies and oppressions, which their officers vsed in his countrey. And the oracion is deuyded into three Chap­ters. Cap. iii.

IN the .x. yeare of the reigne of the good emperour Marcus Aurelius there happened in Rome a generall pestilence: the whiche being so outragious, the good emperour went into Campaigne, whiche at that tyme was verye healthfull, and without diseases, thoughe it was very drye, and wanted much of that which was necessarie: yet notwithstanding, the good Emperour was there with all the principall Senatours of Rome. For in tyme of pestilence, men doe not seeke where they should reioice their parsonnes: but where they maye saue theire lyues. Marcus Aurelius being there in Campania, was sore vexed with a feuer. And as his condicion was alwaies, to be amongest Sa­ges: so at that tyme hys sickenes required to be visited of phisicions. The re­sorte that he had in hys pallace was verye greate, as well of Philosophers for to teache: as of phisitions for to dispute. For this prince ordeyned hys lyfe in suche sorte: that in his absence thinges touchinge the warre were well proui­ded: and in hys presence was nothynge but matters of knowledge argued. It chaunsed one daye as Marcus Aurelius was enuironed with Senatours, Philosophers, phisitions, and other sage men, a question was moued among them, howe greatly Rome was chaunged, not onelye in buyldinges, whyche almoste were vtterlye decayed: but also in maners, whiche were wholly cor­rupted: the cause of all thys euill grewe, for that Rome was full of flatterers: and destitute of those whiche durste saye the trueth. These and suche other lyke words heard: the emperour toke vp his hand and blessed him, and decla­red vnto them a notable example, sayeng. In the first yere that I was cōsull [Page] there came a poore villayne from the riuer of Danubye, to aske iustice of the Senate, agaynst a Censour whyche dyd sore oppresse the people, and in dede he dyd so well propounde hys complaint, and declare the follye and iniuryes whych the iudges dyd in hys countrey: that I doubt whether Marcus Cicero could vtter it better wyth hys tonge, or the renowmed Homer haue written it more eloquently with his penne. This villayne had a small face, great lippes, hollow eyes, hys colour burnte, curled heare, bareheaded, hys shoes of a Por­pige skynne, hys coate of gotes skynne, hys girdell of bull russhes, a longe bearde and thicke, hys eye breyes couered hys eyes, the stomacke, & the neck couered wyth skynnes, heared as a beare, and a clubbe in hys hand. Without doubt when I sawe him enter into the Senate, I imagined it had beene a beast in fourme of a man: and after I hearde that whyche he sayde, I iudged hym to be a God (if there are Gods) amongest menne. For if it was a fearfull thyng to beholde hys personne, it was no lesse monstrous to heare his wor­des. At that tyme, there was greate prease at the dore of the Senate, of ma­nye and dyuers personnes, for to solicite the affaires of theire prouinces: yet notwithstanding this villayne spake before the others, for twoe causes. The one, for that men were desyrous to heare what so monstrous a man woulde say: the other because the Senatours had this custome, that the complayntes of the poore should be hearde, before the requestes of the riche. Wherfore this villayne afterwardes in the middest of the Senate, began to tel his tale, and the cause of hys comminge thither: in the whiche he shewed him selfe no lesse bolde in woordes, then he was in his attyre straunge, and saide vnto them in thys sorte. O fathers conscripte, and happy people, I Mileno a ploughman, dwelling nere vnto the ryuer of Danube, doe salute you worthye Senatours of Rome, which are conuented here in this Senate, & I besech the immortal gods my tong this day so to gouerne, that I may say that which is cōuenient for my countrey, and that they helpe you others to gouerne well the common wealth. For wythout the healpe of God, we can neither learne the good, nor auoid the euill. The fatale destines permittinge it, and our wrathefull Gods forsakinge vs, our mishappe was suche, & to ye others fortune shewed her self so fauourable: that the proud captaines of Rome, byforce of armes toke our countrey of Germany. And I saye not without a cause, that at that tyme the gods were displeased with vs: for if we Germaines had appeased our Gods, ye Romaynes might well haue excused your selues for ouercomminge of vs. Greate is youre glorye O Romaynes, for the victories ye haue had, and try­umphes whiche of manye realmes ye haue conquered: but notwithstanding greater shall your infamy be in the worlde to come, for the cruelties whiche you haue committed. For I let you knowe, yf you do not knowe it, that when the wicked went before the triumphing chariots sayeng, lyue, lyue, inuincyble Rome: on the other syde the poore captyues went sayeng in theire hartes, iu­stice, iustice. My predecessours enhabited by the ryuer of Danubye, for when the drye earth annoyed them, they came to recreate them selues in the freshe water: and if perchaunce the vnconstant water dyd annoy them, then they woulde returne againe to the mayne lande. And as the appetites and condi­cions of men are variable: so there is a tyme to flye from the lande, to refreshe our selues by the water. And tyme also when we are annoyed with the water [Page 6] to retourne agayne to the lande. But howe shall I speake Romaynes, that whyche I woulde speake? your couetousenes of taking other mennes goods hath bene so extreme, & your pryde of commaunding straunge countreis hath bene so disordinate: that neither the sea can suffise you in the depenes thereof, neyther the lande assure vs in the fieldes of the same. O how great comforte it is for the troubled men, to think and be assured that there are iust gods, the which will do iustice on the vniust. For if the oppressed menne thought them selues not assured, that the gods would wreke their iniury of theire enemies: they with their owne handes woulde destroy them selues. The ende why I speake this is, for so much as I hope in the iust gods, that as you others with out reason haue cast vs out of our houses: so by reason shal others come after vs, and cast you others out of Italy, & Rome bothe. There in my countrey of Germany, we take it for a rule vnfallyble, that he whiche by force taketh the good of another: by reason ought to lose his owne proper right. And I hope in the gods, y^t that which we haue for a prouerb in Germany, you shal haue for experience here in Rome. By the grosse woordes I speake, & by the strange apparell which I weare, you may well immagine that I am some rude v [...] ­laine or barbarous borne: but yet notwithstandinge I want not reason to know, who is iust and righteous in holdyng his owne: and who is a tyraunt in possessing of others. For the rude menne of my profession, though in good stile they cannot declare that whiche they would vtter: yet notwithstandinge that, we are not ignoraunt of that whiche ought to bee allowed for good, nor whiche ought to bee condemned for euill. I woulde saye therfore in this case, that that which the euyll with all their tiranny haue gathered in many daies, the gods shall take from them in one houre: and contrarywyse all that which the good shall lose in many yeres, the gods will cestore it them in one minute. For speaking the trueth, the euill to prosper in ryches, is not for that the gods will it, but that they doe suffer it, and though at this houre we complaine dissē ­bling, we suffer much, but the tyme shal come that will paye for all. Beliue me in one thing, O Romaynes, and doubt not therin: that of the vnlawfull gaine of the fathers, foloweth after the iust vndoing of their children. Manye often tymes doe marueile in my countrey, what the cause is that the gods doe not take from the wicked that which they winne, immediatlye as soone as they winne it: and as I think the reason hereof is, for the dissembling with them, by lytle and little they gather together dyuers thinges, and afterwardes whē they thinke least thereon, it is taken from them all at once. For the iust iudge­ment of the gods is, that since without reason they haue done euyll to others: others by reason should come in lyke maner which doe euyll vnto them. It is vnpossible that the valyant and sage man, who in his deedes presumeth to be wise, should take any taste in an other mans good: for if he dyd, he woulde neuer content him selfe with anye thinge, sith he hath not a conscience in that which is euil gotten, I know not Romaines, whether you vnderstande mee, but because you shall vnderstād me better, I say, that I maruaile, & I should rather wonder, how the man keping another mans goods, can sleepe or rest one hour, sith he knoweth he hath done iniury to the gods, slaūdered his neighbours, pleased his enemies, lost his frendes, & endomaged those that he rob­bed, & woorst of all that he hath put his personne in perill. And I saye, that he [Page] hath put his person in peryl: for the day that any man determineth to take my goods, he wyl also the same day (if he can) take my lyfe. It is an odyous thing to the gods, and very slaunderous amōg men, that men should haue so much (thorough theire fleshly desyres) vertue bounde, and the raine of theire euill workes so much at lybertie, that another mans misery seemeth to him riches, and that his owne riches semeth to hym selfe pouertie. I care not whether he be Greke, barbarous, Romaine, present or absent, I say and affirme, that he is and shalbe cursed of gods and hated of men, whiche without consideracion wil change his good fame into shame, iustice into wronge, right into tiranny, trouthe into lyes, the certaine for the doubtful, hatyng hys owne proper, and syghing for that of other mennes. He that hath his chiefe intencion to gather goods for his children, and seketh not a good name among the renowmed: it is iust that such one doe not onely lose the goods whych he hath gathered, but also that wythout good name he remaine shameful among the wicked. Since you other Romaines naturally are proud, & pryde doth blynd you, you thinke your selues happy, that for hauing so much as ye haue more then others, that therfore you should be more honored then al, the which truely is not so. For if presently you wyl not open your eies & cōfesse your own errors, you shal se, y^t wheras you auaunt your selues to be lords of strāge prouinces: you shal fynd yourselues made slaues with your own proper goods. Gather asmuch as you wyl, let them doe all you do commaund them: yet as I thynk it lytle auaileth to haue Plebeians houses wyth goodes, and contrarywyse the hartes to bee possessed wyth couetousnes. For the ryches which are gotten with couetous­nes, and are kept wyth auarice, doe take away the good name from the pos­sessour, and do nothyng auaile to maintein his lyfe. It cannot be suffered ma­ny dayes, and much lesse hidde many yeares, that one man should be coūted bothe for riche among the ryche, and for honoured among the honorable: for it is vnpossible that he whych is a great louer of temporall goods, should be a frynde of hys good name. O if the couetous men were of theire own honor as gredy, as they are of the goods of an other desyrous: I swere vnto you by the immortall gods, that the lytle woorme or moth of couetousnes would not gnawe the rest of theyr lyfe, nor the canker of infamy shoulde destroy theyre good name after theire death. Herken you Romaynes, herken what I wyll saye, and I beseche the gods that you may vnderstande it: For otherwise I should lose my labour, and ye others should take no fruite of my wordes. I se that all the worlde hateth pryde, & yet there is none that will folow humani­tie. Euery man condemneth adultery, and yet I se no man that liueth chaste. Euery man curseth excesse, and I se no man lyue temperatly. Euery man praiseth pacience, and I se no man that wyll suffer. Euerye manne blameth slouth, and I se no man, but those that are ydel. Euery one blameth auaryce, and yet euery man robbeth. One thyng I saye, & not wythout teares in thys senate, openly I doe declare it, whych is, that wyth the tonge euery man prayseth vertue: and yet they them selues with all their lymmes are seruants vn­to vyces. Do not thynke that I saye thys onely for the Romaynes whych be in Illiria: but for the Senatours whych I se here in the Senate. Al you Ro­maynes, in your deuyses about your armes, haue this for your word. Roma­norum est debellare superbos, & parcere subiectis. Truelye you shoulde better [Page 7] haue saide: Romanorum, est spoliare innocentes, & reddere subiectos. For you Romayns are but destroyers of the people that be peaceable: and robbers of the swette & laboures of strangers.

¶The vyllayne argueth againste the Romaynes, which without cause or reason conquered theire countreye, and proued manifestlye that theye thoroughe of­fending of their goddes, were vanquished of the Romaynes. Cap. iiii.

I Aske ye Romaines what occasion ye haue, that are brought vp nigh to the ryuer of Tyber, against vs that liue in peace, nigh to the riuer of Danuby. Peraduenture ye haue seene vs frendes to youre foes, or els we haue she­wed our selues your enemies? peraduenture you haue hard say, that forsaking our owne land, we should go conquere forein realmes? peraduenture ye haue bene aduertised, y^t we rebelling against our owne lordes, should become obe­dient to the crewell barbarous? peraduenture ye haue sent vs some imbassa­dour to desire vs to be your frendes: or els there came some from vs to rome, to defye ye as our enemies? peraduenture some king died in our realme, whi­che by his testament made ye heirs to our realme? wherby you claime your ti­tle, and seke to make vs your subiectes? peraduenture by some auncient lawe or custome ye haue founde, y^t the noble and worthy Germany, of necessitye is subiecte to the proude people of Rome? peraduenture we haue destroied your armies, we haue wasted your fieldes, sacked your cities, spoiled your subiectes, or fauored your enemies? so y^t to reuenge these iniuries ye should destroy oure lād? if we had ben your neighbours, or you ours, it had ben no maruel though one should haue destroied the other. For it chaūseth oftentimes, y^t through con­trouersy of a litle pece of ground, tedious warres betwene people arise. Of a trouth none of all these things which I haue named, hath chaunsed betwene ye Romaines and vs Germaines. For in Germany we felte youre tyrannie, so sone as we hard of your renowne. If ye be greeued with that I haue saide, I pray you be not offended withe that I wil say, whiche is: that y^e name of Ro­maines, & the crueltie of tyrants, arriued together in one day vpon our people. And what more to say, I know not Romaines, of the litle care the goddes do take, & of the great audacitie y^t mē haue. For I see y^t he which possesseth much doth oppresse hym which hath but litle: & he that hath but litle, waieth not him y^t hath much. So disordered couetousnes striueth w^t secret malice, & secret ma­lice geueth place to open theft, & open robbery no man resisteth, & therof com­meth, y^t the couetice of a malicious man is accomplished, to the preiudice of a whole state. Harken ye romaines, herken, & by the immortal gods I do con­iure you, geue eare to that I wil say, which is, consider wel what you haue dō [...] for the gods wordes be in vaine, or els men must haue an ende, the worlde in time must nedes fal, or els the worlde shalbe no worlde. Fortune must nedes make sure the pinne of the whele, or els y^t shalbe sene which neuer was seene, which is: that which in .8. yeares ye haue wonne, ye shal withein .8. daies lose. For nothing can be more iust, since ye by force haue made your selues tirants: then y^t the gods by iustice should make ye slaues. And do not think ye romains though you haue subdued Germany, and be lordes therof, that it was by anye [Page] warrely industrye: for ye are no more warlike, no more coragious, nor more hardy, ne yet more valiaūt thē we Germaines, but sins through our offēces we haue prouoked y^e gods to wrath, they for y^e punishmēt of oure disordinate vices ordeyned, y^t ye should be a cruel plague & scourge to our ꝑsōs. Do not take your selues to be strōg, neither repute vs to be so weake, y^t if the gods at y^t time had fauoured y^e one part, asmuch as y^e other: it might perchance haue happened, ye should not haue enioied the spoile. For to say the truth, ye wan not the victory through y^e force of weapōs, y^t you brought frō Rome: but through the infynyte vices, which ye founde in Germany. Therefore since we weare not ouercome for beinge cowards, neither for being weake, nor yet for beinge fearefull, but only for being wicked, & not hauing the gods fauourable vnto vs: what hope ye Romaines to become of you, being as you are vicious, & hauing y^e gods an­gry w^t you? Do not think Romaines to be the more victorious, for y^t ye assēble great armies, or y^t ye abound in treasures, neither for y^t you haue greater gods in your ayd, or that ye build greater tēples, nor yet for that ye offer such greate sacrifices. For I let you know, if ye do not know it, y^t no man is in more fauor w^t the gods, than he which is at peace w^t vertue. If y^e triumphes of y^e conque­rours cōsisteth in nothing els but in subtill wittes, politike captaines, valiant souldiers, & great armies: w^tout doubt it would litle auaile to cary al this to the warre, sins afterwards we se by experiēce, y^t men can do no more but geue the battailes, & the gods thē selues must geue the victories. If I be not deceyued, I thynke that for our offences we haue sufficientlye satisfyed the gods wrath. But truelye I beleue that the cruelties which ye haue done vnto vs, and the vnthankefullnesse whiche you haue shewed the goddes (though as yet ye ha­ue not payd it) that once ye shall pay it. And hereafter it may chaunce, that as presentlye ye count vs for slaues: so in tyme to come ye shall acknowledge vs for lordes. Synce the trauaylynge by the waye, I haue seene the highe moū ­taines, diuers prouinces, sundrye nations, countreis so sauage, people so bar­barous, suche and so manye miles as Germany is distaunt from Roome, I muse what fonde toye came in the Romaines heades: to sende to conquere Germany. If couetousnesse of treasures caused it, I am sure they spent more money to conquere it, and at this present doe spende to kepe it, then the whole reuenewes of Germany amountethe, or maye amount in manye yeares: and perchaunce theye maye lose it, before they recouer that they spent to conquere it. And if ye say vnto me Romaines that Germanie is not conquered of Rome for euer, but that onelye Rome shoulde haue the glorye to be mistres of Germanye, this allso I saye is vanitye and follye. For litle auaileth it to haue the forts and castels of the people: when the hartes of the inhabitauntes are absente. If ye saye that therefore ye conquered Germany, to amplifie and enlarge the limittes and boundes of Rome, allso mee thinkethe this as foolishe an enter­prise. For it is not the point of wise and valiaunt men to enlarge their dominy­ons: and diminishe theire honour. If ye saye ye sent to conquere vs, to the end we shoulde not be barbarous, nor liue like tirauntes, but that you woulde we shoulde liue after your good lawes and customes, yf it bee so I am well con­tent. But how is it possyble ye should geue laws to straūgers, whē you break y^e laws of your own p̄decessours? great shame ought they to haue, which take vpō thē to correct others, when they haue more nede to be corrected thē selfes. [Page 8] For the blinde man ought not to take vppon him to leade the lame. If this be true (as presently it is) what reason or occasion had proude Rome, to take and conquere the innocent Germanye? Let vs all go therfore to robbe, to kyll, to conquere, and to spoile, sins we see the worlde so corrupte, and so far from the loue of god, that euery man (as we may perceiue) taketh what hee cā, kylleth whom he will, and that which worst of all is, that neither those which gouerne wil remedy so many euils as are committed, neither those which are offēded dare complaine. Ye chiefe iudges at this day are so harde to bee entreated, ye take so litle regard vnto the poore oppressed: y^t they think it more quiet to re­maine in trouble at home, then to come and put vp theire complaintes before you here at Rome. And the cause hereof is, that there in theire countrey theye haue but one which pursueth thē: and here in this senate theye are euil willed of al, and that is, because he which complaineth is poore, and the other whiche is complained on is riche. Therefore since fortune would it, and the fatall des­tinies permit it that the proude Rome should be mistresse of our Germanye, it is but reason ye should kepe vs in iustice, and mainteine vs in peace. But you do not so, but rather those which come thither do take from vs our goods, and ye y^t are here do rob vs of our good name, saying, y^t since we are a people with­out law, without reason, & without a king (as vnknowen barbarous) ye maye take vs for slaues. In this case ye Romains are greatly deceiued, for me thin­keth w^t reason ye can not cal vs w^tout reason, since we being such as we are, and as the gods created vs, remaine in our proper countreis, without desiring to seeke or inuade foreine realmes. For with more reason we mighte say, that ye were men withoute reason, beinge not contented w^t the sweete and fertyle Italye: but that throughe shedynge of bloude you should desire to conquere al the yearth. In y^t ye say we deserue to be slaues, because we haue no prince to commaund vs, nor senat to gouerne vs, nor army to defend vs, to this I wil aunswere. That since we had no enemies, we neded no armies, & sith euery man is contented w^t his lotte and fortune, we had no necessitie of a proude se­nate to gouerne vs, & we being as we are all equall, it nede not we should cō ­sēt to haue anye princes amongest vs. For the office of princes is to suppresse tyrants, & to mainteine y^e people in peace. If ye saye further y^t we haue not in our coūtrey a cōmon wealth, nor pollicy, but that we liue as y^e brute bests in y^e mountaines, in this also you haue but small reason. For we in our coūtrey dyd suffer noe lyers, neyther rebels, nor sedicious persons, nor mē y^t broughte vs (frō straūge coūtreis) any apparaile for to be vicious, so y^t sithe in apparaile we were honest, & in meat very tēperate, we neded no better behauiour. For al­though in our countrey there are noe merchands of Carthage, oyle of Maurita­nia, marchāts of Tire, Steele, of Cātabrie, odours of Asia, gold of Spaigne, siluer of Britaine, Amber of Sidonie, silke of Damasco, corne of Scicill, wine of Can­dy, purple of Arabye: yet for al this we are not brutishe, neyther cease to haue a cōmon wealth. For these & such other like things, geue more occasiō to stir vp many vices: thē for verteous mē to liue accordīg to vertue. Blessed, & happy is y^t cōmō welth, not where grete riches abūdeth, but where vertues are highly cōmēdid: not where many light & angrie mē resort, but where y^e paciēt are re­sidēt: therfore it foloweth, y^t of y^t cōmōwelth of Rome for being rich, we should haue pitie: & of y^e cōmon welth of Germany for being poore, ye ought to haue [Page] enuye. Would to god that y^e contētacion we haue w^t our pouerty, ye others had y^e same w^t your riches. For then neyther ye had robbed vs of our coūtreis, nor we had not comen hither now to cōplaine in Rome of your tyrānye. I se ro­maines, that y^e one differeth much from the other. For ye others, thoughe ye heare our opressions, yet thereby ye loase not your pastime but we others can neuer dry the teares of our eies, nor cease to bewaile our infinite misfortunes.