DECLARING What Excellency consisteth in a Prince that is a good Christian: And what euils attend on him that is a cruell Tirant.

WRITTEN By the Reuerend Father in God, DON ANTONIO of Gueuara, Lord Bishop of Guadix; Preacher and Chronicler to the late mighty Emperour CHARLES the fift.

First translated out of French by THOMAS NORTH, Sonne to Sir EDWARD NORTH, Lord NORTH of Kirthling: And lately reperused, and corrected from many grosse imperfections.

With addition of a Fourth Booke, stiled by the Name of The fauoured Courtier.

LONDON, Imprinted by Bernard Alsop, dwelling by Saint Annes Church neere Aldersgate, 1619.

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, SIR HENRY MOVNTAGVE, Knight, Lord Chiefe Iustice of the Pleas, Holden before his most Royall Maiestie, &c

THe Emperour Tra­iane (Right Honou­rable) writing a Let­ter to the Senate of Rome, concerning the weightie and carefull condition of Princes; among many other matters, vsed these wordes of himselfe. I doe freely confesse vnto you, that, since I tasted the cares and trauels attending on this Imperiall dignitie: I haue re­pented a thousand times, that euer I did vndertake it, because, if it bee ac­counted Honour to enioy an Em­pire, there consisteth farre greater paine and labour, to order and go­uerne it as it ought to be. But beside, what enuie doth hee expose himselfe to, & multitude of mislikes, that hath the charge of gouerning others? If hee be iust, hee is branded with cru­elry: if mercifull, hee is contemned: if beautifull, tearmed lauish and pro­digall: if hee hoorde vp money, then basely couetous: if inclined to peace, then hee is a coward: If full of cou­rage, proudly anbitious: if discreet­ly graue, surly and scornefull: if af­fably courteous, silly and simple: if affecting solitude a dissembling hy­pocrite: if addicted to mirth and pleasure, then wantonly dissolute. In the end of all, te worthy Emperour thus concluded. Although willingly, I accepted this high office at the first: yet sorrow hath (since) made mee shrinke vnder so brdensom a charge: For, the Sea and dignitie are thinges pleasing to looke [...]n, but very peril­lous to meddle withall.

I haue alledged his example (wor­thie Lord) because present vnto your gracious acceptance, his ancient and fa­mous Booke, called The Diall of Prin­ces, wherein is at lige, and amply set downe, what care and respect awayteth on the liues of Prin [...]s and great per­sons: for if they canot runne into the smallest errour, but redoundeth to the hurt of many, nor neglect their duty, without other mens userie: Then sayde the Philosopher well. A Prince should not appropriate the Common­wealth [Page] to himselfe, but shape him­selfe wholy to the Common wealth. And so much the rather, because he stan­ding accountable to no man in this Life, ought to remember a farre stricter ac­count, before him that maketh no respect of Princes, saue onely in this, that they shall finde the Iudge the more seuere a­gainst them, by how much they haue a­bused their place of eminencie, as also their power and princely authority.

In the learned Discourses following, set downe by that good Emperour Mar­cus Aurelius, the honourable Argu­ment of all this worke; are three especi­all duties and actions obserued, necessa­rily required in an absolute and perfect Prince, as namely; In Ruling, Iudging, and Defending: To rule by iust lawes, and good Example; To Iudge by Wisedome, Prouidence, and Iustice; And Defend by valour, care, and vi­gilancy. And this is that which the Spirit of God so often intimateth by the Prophet Ieremie, [...]ap. 22. verse 3. To execute Iudgement and righte­ousnesse: To deliuer the oppressed from the handes [...] the oppressour, Not to vexe the Stanger, fatherlesse, or Widdow: Neyther to doe violence, or shedde the innocent bloud.

Into infinite other famous presidents for Princes I could enter, and set them downe expressely; but that I know, they are so frequent to your Honour, both in reading and memorie, that it were as lost labour, as to hold a burning Taper in the bright Sunne at Noone-day, and there­fore these few shall suffice, Nor doe I dedicate this vnto your graue and lear­ned iudgement, as a new labour of mine owne, or as a worke neuer seene before; because it hath already past diuers im­pressions: albeit not in so exact a maner, nor with the like paines, as hath now bin bestowed vpon it, from many absurde, and grosse imperfections, and yet not so cleanely purged, as I could wish it were, nor as it shall bee, if euer it come to the Presse againe. Wherefore I humbly en­treate your Honour, to accept it as it is, and as an oblation of my loue vnfained­ly to you, which gladly would shew it selfe by any possible meanes, as time hereafter may better enable me. Til when, I remain ready at your Honours seruice, to the very vtmost of my best abilitie.

Your Honors in all duty. A. M.

A GENER ALL PRO­LOGVE VPON THE BOOKE. ENTITVLED THE DYALL OF PRINCES: WITH THE FA­mous Booke of MARCVS AVRELIVS, Compyled by the Reuerend Father in GOD, the Lord ANTONY of GVEVARA, By­shop of Guadix: Confessor and Chronicler to Charles the fifth, Em­perour of Rome: vnto whom, (and to all other Princes, and Noble-personages) this worke was directed.

APolonius Thianeus disputing with the schollers of Hiareas, said: that among all the affections of na­ture, nothing is more naturall, then the de­sire that all haue to preserue life.

Omitting the dispute of these great Phylosophers herein, wee our selues hereof haue daily proofe: that to liue, men do trauell: to liue, byrds do flie: fishes do swimme: and to liue, beasts do hide themselues for feare of death. Finally, (I say) there is no liuing crea­ture so brutish, that hath not a naturall desire to liue.

If many of the auncient Paynims so little regarde life, that of their owne free willes, they offered themselues death, they did it not for that they de­spised The heathē may teach Christians how to liue. life, but because they thought that for their little regarding life, wee would more highly esteem their fame For, wee see men of hauty courages, seeke rather to winne a long-during-Fame, then to saue a short lasting-life. How loth men are to die, is easily seen by the great paines they take to liue. For it is a naturall thing to all mortall men, to leaue their liues with sorrowe and take their deaths with feare.

Admit that all doe taste this corpo­rall death, and that generally both good and euill doe die: yet is there great difference between the death of the one, and the death of the other.

If the good desire to liue, it is onely for the greater desire they haue to do more good: but if the euill desire to liue, it is for that they would abuse the world longer. For the children of va­nity call no time good, but onely that wherein they liue, according to their owne desires. I let you vnder­stand that are at this present, and you also that shall come heereafter: that I direct my writings vnto those which embrace vertue, and not vnto such as are borne away with vice.

GOD doth not weigh vs, as we are, but as wee desire to bee. And let no man say, I would, and cānot be good: for as wee haue the audacitie to com­mit a faulte, so (if we list) wee may en­force our selues to worke amendes. All our vndoing proceedeth of this, that wee outwardly make a shewe of vertue, but inwardly in the deede wee employ our whole power to vice: which is an abuse, wherewith all the world is corrupted and deceiued. For [Page] Heauen is not furnished but with good deedes, and hell is not replenished but with Euill-desires. I graunt that ney­ther man nor beast desireth to die, but all trauell, to the ende they may liue: But I aske now this question.

What doth it auayle a man to de­sire his life to be prolonged, if the same be wicked, vngodly, and defamed? The man that is high-minded, proude, vn­constant, cruell, disdainfull enuious, full of hatred, angry, malicious, full of wrath, couetous, a Lyer, a Gluton, a Blasphemer, [...]. and in all his doings disordred: Why will wee suffer him in the world?

The life of a poor man that for need stealeth a gowne, or any other small trifle is forthwith taken away: Why then is hee that disturbeth the whole Common-wealth left aliue?

Oh would to GOD there were no greater theeues in the world thē those which robbe the temporall goods of the Rich, and that wee did not winke conti­nually at them, which take away the good renowne, as well of the Rich, as of the Poore. But wee chastise the one, and dissemble with the other, which is euidently seene, how the theefe that stealeth my neighbours gown is han­ged forthwith, but hee that robbeth mee of my good-name, walketh still before my doore.

The diuine Plato in the first booke of laws, saide: We ordaine and com­maund, that hee which vseth not him­selfe honestly, and hath not his house well-reformed, his Riches well gouer­ned, A worthy sentence of Plato. his family well instructed, and li­ueth not in peace with his neighbors, that vnto him bee assigned Tutours, which shall gouerne him as a Foole, and as a vacabonde shall he be expul­sed from the people, to the intent the common-wealth be not through him infected. For there neuer riseth con­tention or strife in a commonwealth, but by such men as are alwayes out of order.

Truely, the diuine Plato had great reason in his sayings, for the man that is vicious in his person, and doth not trauell in things touching his House, nor keepeth his Familie in good or­der, nor liueth quietly in the Com­monwealth, deserueth to be banished, and driuen out of the countrey.

Truely we see in diuers places mad men tyed and bound fast, which if they were at libertie would not doe so much harme, as those doe that daylie walke the streetes at their owne willes and sensualitie. There is not at this day so great or noble a Lord, nor La­die so delicate, but had rather suffer a blow on the head with a stone, then a blot in their good-Name, with an euill­tongue. For the wound of the head in a month or two may well bee healed: but the blemish of their good-name du­ring life will neuer be remoued.

Laertius sayth in his booke of the liues of Phylosophers, that Dyogenes being asked of one of his neighbours, what they were that ordayned theyr Lawes? Aunswered in this wise.

Thou shalt vnderstand, my friend, that the earnest whole desire of our Fore-fathers, and all the intentions of the phylosophers, was only to instruct A prettie sentence. them in their Common-wealth, how they ought to speake, how to be oc­cupyed, how to eate, how to sleepe, how to treat, how to apparrel, how to trauell, and how to rest: And in this consisteth all the wealth of worldly wisedome.

In deede this Phylosopher in his aunswer touched an excellent point: For the Law was made to none other end, but only to brydle him that liueth without Reason or Law.

To men that will liue in rest, and without trouble in this life, it is requi­site and necessarie that they chuse to themselues some kinde and manner of Liuing, whereby they may maintaine their house in good-order, and con­forme [Page] their liues vnto the same.

That estate ought not to be as the folly of the person doth desire, nor as may bee most pleasant to the delights of the bodie: but as reason teacheth them, and God commaundeth them, for the surer saluation of theyr soules. For, the Children of vanitie embrace that onely, which the sensuall appetite de­sireth: and reiect that which Reason commaundeth.

Since the time that Trees were crea­ted, they alwayes (remaining in their first nature vntill this present day) doe beare the same leafe and fruite: which things are plainly seen in this: that the Palme beareth Dates, the Fig-tree figs, the Nut-tree Nuttes, the Peare-tree Peares, the Apple-tree Apples, the Chestnut-tree chest-nuts, the Oke A­cornes: and to conclude, I say, all things haue kept their first nature, saue onely the Sinnefull-Man, which hath fallen by malice.

The Planettes, the Starres, the Hea­uens, the Water, the Earth, the Ayre, and the Fire: the brute beasts, and the The trees of the earth sheweth the malice of man. Fishes, all continue in the same estate wherein they were first created: not complaining nor enuying the one the other. Man complaineth continually, hee is neuer satisfyed, and alwayes co­ueteth to chaunge his estate. For the shepheard would be a Husbandman, the husbandman a Sqiure, the Squire a Knight, the Knight a King, the King an Emperour, &c. Therefore I say, that fewe is the number of them that seeke amendment of life: but infinite are they that trauell to better their e­state, and to increase their goods.

The decay of the Common-wealth (at this present) through all the world is, that the drye and withered Okes, which haue been nourished vpon the sharpe mountains, would now seeme to be daintie. Date-trees cherished in the pleasant gardains. I meane, that those which yesterday could haue bin plea­sant with drye Acornes in a poore cottage at home: at this day will not eate but of delicate Dishes in other mens houses a­brode.

What estate men ought to take vpon them, to keepe their conscience A good lesson for all persons to follow. pure, and to haue more rest in theyr life, a man cannot easily describe. For ther is no state in the Church of God, but men may therin (if they will) serue God, and profite themselues. For, there is no kinde of life in the world, but the wicked (if they perseuer and continue therein) may slaunder their persons, and also lose their soules.

Plinie in an Epistle that hee wrote to Fabatus his friend, saith: There is nothing among mortall men more common and daungerous, then to giue place to vaine imaginations, wher­by a man beleeueth the estate of one to bee much better then the estate of another. And hereof it proceedeth, that the World doeth blinde men so, that they will rather seeke that which is an other mans by trauell and daunger, then to enioy their owne with quiet and rest.

I say the state of Princes is good, if they abuse it not. I say the state of the people is good: if they behaue themselues obediently. I say the state of the rich is good, if they will God­ly vse it. I say the estate of the Reli­gious is good, if they be able to pro­fite others. I say the estate of the com­munaltie is good, if they will content themselues: I say the estate of the poore is good, if they haue pacience. For it is no merite to suffer troubles, if wee haue not pacience therein.

During the time of this our misera­ble life we cannot denie, but in euery estate there is both trouble & danger. For then onely our estate shall be per­fite, when we shall come gloriously in soule and bodie without the feare of death: and also when we shall reioyce without daungers in life.

[Page] Returning againe to our purpose, (Mightie Prince) although wee all be of value little, wee all haue little, we all can attaine little, wee all know little, we all are able to doe little, we all loue but little: yet in all this little, the state of Princes seemeth some great and high thing. For that worldly men say, There is no such felicitie in this life, as to haue authoritie to cōmaund many, and to be bound to obey none. But if eyther subiects knew how deere Princes by their power to command, or if princes knew how sweet a thing it is to liue in quiet, doubtles the sub­jects would pittie their rulers, and the rulers would not enuie their subiects. For, full fewe are the pleasures which Princes enjoy, in respect of the trou­bles that they endure.

Since then, the estates of Princes is greater then all, that hee may do more then all, is of more value then all, vp­holdeth more then all: And finally, that from thence proceedeth the go­uernement of all, it is more needefull that the House, the Person, and the life of a Prince, be better gouerned and or­dered then all the rest. For, euen as by the meate-yard the Marchaunt mea­sureth all his wares: So by the life whole of the Prince is measured the whole common-weale.

Many sorrowes endureth the wo­man in nourishing a way-ward child: great trauell taketh a Schoolmaster in A compari­son necessi­ry to be res­pected. teaching an vntoward scholler: much paines taketh an Officer in gouerning a multitude ouer-great. How great then is the paine and perill, wherevn­to I offer my selfe, in taking vpon mee to order the life of such an one, vpon whose life dependeth all the good e­state of a Common-weale?

For, Noble Princes and great Lords ought of vs to bee serued, and not of­fended: wee ought to exhort them, not to vexe them: wee ought to en­create them, not to rebuke them: wee ought to aduise them, and not to de­fame them. Finally (I say) the right simple, reckon I that Surgion, which with the same plaisters hee layed to a harde heele, seeketh to cure the tender Eyes: I meane by this comparison, that my purpose is not to tell Princes and Noble-men in this booke what they be, but to warne them what they ought to bee: not to tell them what they do, but to aduise them what they ought to doe. For, that Noble-man which will not amende his life for re­morse of his owne conscience: Iidoe thinke hee will doe it for the writing of my pen.

Paulus Dyaconus the first Hystorio­grapher, in the second booke of his Commentaryes, sheweth an antiquitie, right worthie to remember, and also pleasaunt to read: Although indeed to the hinderaunce of my selfe I shall rehearse it.

It is, as of the Henne, who by long scraping on the Dung-hill, discouereth the knife, that shall cut her owne throate. Thus was the case, Hanniball the most A Sentence of Paulus Dyaconus: renowmed Prince and captain of Car­thage (after hee was vanquished by the aduenturous Scipio) fled into Asia, to king Antiochus, a prince then liuing of great vertue, who receyued him into his realme, tooke him into his prote­ction, and right honourably intertay­ned him in his house. And truly king Antiochus did heerein, as a pittyfull prince: For what can more beautifie the honour of a Prince, then to succour Nobilitie in their needefull estate?

These two Noble Princes vsed diuers exercises to spende the time honoura­blie: and thus they diuided their time. Sometime to hunt in the mountains, otherwhiles to disporre them in the fields, oft to view their Armeys: But chiefly, they resorted to the Schooles, to heare the Phylosophers. And true­ly they did like wise and skilfull men. For there is no houre in a day other­wise [Page] so well employed, as in hearing a wise pleasant tongued man. There was at a time in Ephesus a famous Phi­losopher called Phormio, which open­ly and publikely read and taught the people of the realme. And one day as these two Princes came into the Schoole, the Philosopher Phormio chaunged the matter whereupon he read, and of a sudden began to talke of the meanes and wayes that Prin­ces ought to vse in warre, and of the order to bee kept in giuing battell: Such, so strange, and high phrased was the matter which hee talked of, that not onely they maruelled which neuer before saw him: but euen those also that of long time had daily heard him. For herein curious and flouri­shing wits shew their excellency, in that they neuer want fresh matter to entreate vpon.

Greatly gloried the King Antio­chus, that this Philosopher (in presēce of this strange Prince) had so excel­lently spoken, so that strangers might vnderstand he had his realme stored with wise men: For couragious and noble Princes esteem nothing so pre­cious, as to haue men valiāt to defend their Frontiers, and also wise to go­uerne their common-weales.

The Lecture read, King Antiochus demaunded of the Prince Hannibal, how he liked the talke of the Philoso­pher Formio? to whom Hanibal stout­ly answered, and in his answer shew­ed himselfe to bee of that stoutnesse he was the same day, when he wan the great battell at Cannas: for although noble hearted and couragious Prin­ces lose all their estates and realmes: yet they will neuer confesse their harts to be ouerthrowne nor vanquished: And these were the words that at that time Hannibal sayde. Thou shalt vnderstand K. Antiochus that I haue seene diuers doting old men, yet I ne­uer saw a more dotard foole thē Phor­mio, whom thou callest such a great Philosopher: For the greatest kinde of folly is, when a man that hath but a little vaine science, presumeth to teach not those which haue onely sci­ence, also such as haue most certaine experience.

Tell me King Antiochus, what hart can brooke with patience, or what tongue can suffer with silence, to see a silly man (as this Philosopher is) nourished all his life time in a corner of Greece, studying Philosophie, to presume, as hee hath done, to talke before the prince Hannibal of the af­fayres of warre, as though hee had beene eyther Lord of Affrique, or Captaine of Rome? Certes, hee ey­ther full little knoweth himselfe, or else but little esteemeth vs: For it appeareth by his vaine wordes, hee would seeme to know more in matters of warre, by that hee hath read in bookes, then doth Hanniball by the sundry & great battels which he hath fought in the fields.

Oh King Antiothus, how farre and how great is the difference, betweene the estate of Phylosophers, and the state of Captaines: betweene the skyll to reade in Schooles, and the knowledge to rule an Armey: betweene the science that wise men haue in bookes, and the experience that the others haue in warre: betweene their skill to write with the penne, and ours to fight with the Sword: betweene one that for his pastime is set round with deskes of bookes, and an other in perill of life, encompassed with troups of Enemyes. For, many there are which with great e­loquence, in blazing deeds don in warres, can vse their tongues: but fewe are those that at the brunte haue hearts to aduen­ture their liues.

This Phylosopher neuer saw man of war in the field, neeer saw one Armey of men discomfited by an other, neuer [Page] heard the terrible Trumpet sound to the horrible & cruel slaughter of men, neuer saw the Treasons of some, nor vnderstood the cowardnes of others, neuer saw how few they be that fight, nor how many ther are that run away. Finally (I say) as it is seemly for a Phy­losopher and a learned man, to praise the profite of peace: Euen so it is in his mouth a thing vncomely, to prate of the perills' of warre.

If this Phylosopher hath seene no one thing with his Eyes that hee hath spoken, but onely read them in sundry bookes, let him recount them to such as haue neyther seene nor read them: For, warlike feates are better learned in the bloudy fields of Affricke, then in the beautifull schooles of Greece.

Thou knowest right well (king An­tiochus) that for the space of thirty and sixe yeares, I had continuall and daungerous warres, as well in Italie as in Spayne: In which Fortune did not fauour mee (as is alwayes her manner to vse those, which by great stoutnesse and manhood, enterprise things high, and of much difficultie:) a witnesse whereof thou seest mee here, who be­fore my beard beganne to growe was serued: and now it is hoare, I my selfe beginne to serue.

I sweare vnto thee by the God Mars (king Antiochus) that if any man did aske mee, how hee should vse and be­haue himselfe in warre: I would not aunswer him one word. For they are things which are learned by Experi­ence of deedes, and not by prating in words. Although Princes beginne warres by justice, and followe them The end of warre both fickle & vn­constant. with wisedome, yet the ende standeth vppon fickle Fortune, and not of force, nor pollicie.

Diuerse and sundrie other things Hannibal sayde vnto king Antiochus: who so bee desirous to see, let him reade in the Apothegmes of Plutarche: This example (Noble Prince) tendeth rather to this end, to condemne my boldnesse, and not to commend my enterprise, saying that the affayres of the common wealth bee as vnknowne to mee, as the dangers of the warres were to Phormio. Your Maiestie may iustly say vnto me, that I being a poor simple man (brought vp a great while in a rude Countrey) doe greatly pre­sume to describe, how so puissant a Prince as your Highnes ought to go­uerne himselfe and his Realme: For of truth, the more ignorant a man is of the troubles and alterations of the world, the better he shall be counted in the sight of God.

The estate of Princes is to haue great traines about them, and the e­state of religious men is to bee solita­ry: for the seruant of God ought to be alwaies void from vaine thoughts, & to be euer accompanied with ho­ly meditations. The estate of Princes is alwayes vnquiet: but the state of the religious is to bee enclosed: For otherwise he aboue all others may be called an Apostata, That hath his bo­dy in the Cell, and his heart in the market place.

To Princes it is necessary to com­mune and speake with all men, but for the religious it is not decent to be cō ­uersant with the world: For solitary men (if they do as they ought) should occupy their hands in trauel, their bo­dies in fasting, their tongue in prayer, and their heart in contemplation. The estate of Princes for the most part is employed to war, but the estate of re­ligious is to desire & procure peace: For if the Prince would study to passe his bounds, and by battell to shed the bloud of his enemies: the religi­ous ought to shed teares, and pray to God for his sinnes. O that it plea­sed Almighty God, as I know what my bounden duty is in my heart, so that hee would giue me grace to ac­complish the same in my deedes.

[Page] Alas, when I ponder with my selfe the weightines of my matter, my Pen (through slouth and negligence is rea­die to fall out of my hand) and I halfe minded to leaue off mine enterprize. My intent is to speake against my selfe in this case. For, albeit men may know the affaires of Princes by experience: yet they shall not know how to speake nor write them but by science.

Those which ought to counsell prin­ces, those which ought to reforme the life of princes, and that ought to in­struct them, ought to haue a cleare iudgement, an vpright minde, their words aduisedly considered, their do­ctrine wholesome, and their life with­out suspition.

For, who so wil speake of high things, hauing no experience of them: is like vnto a blinde man, that would leade and teach him the way, which seeth better then hee himselfe. This is the sentence of Xenophon the great, which saieth. There is nothing harder in this life, then to know a wise man. And the A speech of Xenophon. reason which hee gaue was this.

That a wise man cannot bee knowne, but by another wise man: wee may gather by this which Xenophon sayeth: That as one wise man cannot be knowne but by another wise man: so likewise it is requi­site that he should be, or haue bin a Prince, which should write of the life of a Prince. For, hee that hath bin a marriner, and hath sailed but one yeare on the Sea: shall bee able to giue better counsell and aduise, then he that hath dwelled ten yeares in the hauen.

Xenophon wrote a booke touching the institution of princes, & bringeth in Cambyses the king, how hee taught, and spake vnto king Cyrus his sonne. And he wrote an other book likewise of the Arte of Chiualry, and brought in king Philip, how he ought to teach his sonne Alexander to fight. For the phi­losophers thought that writing of no authoritie, that was not entituled and set foorth vnder the Names of those Princes, who had experience of that they wrote.

Oh if an aged Prince would with his penne (if not with word of mouth) declare, what misfortunes haue hap­pened since the first time hee beganne to raigne: how disobedient his sub­jects haue bin vnto him, what griefes his seruants haue wroght against him, what vnkindnesse his Friendes haue shewed him: what wiles his enemies haue vsed towards him, what daunger his person hath escaped: what jarres hath bin in his Pallace; what faultes they haue layde against him, how ma­nie times they haue deceyued straun­gers: Finally, what griefes hee hath had by day, and what sorrowfull sighs he hath fetched in the night: Truely I thinke (and in my thought I am no­thing deceiued) that if a prince would declare vnto vs his whole life, and that hee would particularly shewe vs euery thing, wee would both wonder at that bodie which had so much suf­fered: and also we would be offended with that heart which had so greatly dissembled.

It is a troublesome thing, a dange­rous thing, and an insolent and proud enterprise, for a man to take vpon him with a penne to gouerne the Common­wealth, and with a Prince to reason of his life. For in deed men are not perswa­ded to liue well by faire words, but by vertuous deedes. And therefore not How dāge­rous a thing it is to med­dle with Princes af­faires. without cause I say, that hee is not wise, but very arrogant, that dare presume vn­asked to giue a Prince counsell. For prin­ces in many things haue their mindes occupyed, and haughtely bent, and som of them also are affectionate, and whereas wee (peraduenture) thinke to haue them mercifull, wee finde them more angrie and heauie against vs.

For, counsell doeth more harme then profite, if the giuer thereof be not very wise, and hee also which receyueth it [Page] very pacient. I haue not bin a Prince, for to know the trauels of Princes, nor am as president to counsell Princes: and yet I was so bolde to compile this Booke: it was not vpon presumption to counsell a Prince, so much as by an humble sort to giue mine aduise. For to giue counsell, I confesse I haue no credite: but to giue them aduise, it suf­ficeth mee to bee a subiect.

What the order is in that I haue ta­ken in this Booke: how profitable it is to all men, and how vnpleasaunt to no man: how wholsom and profound doctrine in it is contayned, and how the Historyes bee heerein applyed: I will not that my pen doe write, but they themselues shall judge, which shall read this worke.

We see it oft come to passe that diuers Bookes doe loose their estimation: not for that they are not very good and excellent: but because the Authour hath been too pre­sumptuous and vaine-glorious. For, in mine opinion, for a man to praise his owne wrytings much, is nothing else but to giue men occasion to speake euill both of him, and of his workes.

Now, let no man thinke that I haue written this which is written without great aduisement and examination. I doe confesse, before the Redeemer of the whole world, that I haue consumed so many yeares to seeke what I should The paines that the Authour tooke in this booke. write, that these two yeares, one day hath scarcely escaped me, wherein my Pen hath not done his dutie, to write or correct in this worke. I confesse that I tooke great paines in writing it, for of truth it hath been written twice with mine owne hand, and thrice with another mans hand. I confesse I haue read and searched, in diuers and sun­drie partes, manie good and straunge books, to the end I might finde good and pleasaunt doctrine: and besides that, I trauelled much to set and apply the Hystories to the purpose. For, it is an vnseemely thing to applie an hy­storie without a purpose, I had great respect, in that I was not so briefe in my wrytings, that a man might note mee to bee obscure: nor yet in anie thing so long, that any man should slaunder mee with too much talke.

For, all the excellencie of Wryting consi­steth, where many and goodly Sentences are declared in fewest and aptest words. For, oft times the long stile is loathsome and tedious both to the Hearers and Rea­ders.

Nero the Emperour was in loue with a Ladie in Rome named Pompeia, the which in beautie (to his fantasie,) exceeded all others. In the ende part­ly with intreatie, partly with Money The inordi­nate loue betweene Nero and Pompeia. and presents, he obtained of her that hee desired. For, in this case of loue, where prayers and importunities bee paciently heard, resistance doth lacke.

The inordinate loue that Nero bare to Pompeia, proceeded of the yealow haires she had: which were of the co­lour of Amber, and in praise of her he compiled diuers, and sundry songs in Heroicall-Meeter: and with an instru­ment sang them himselfe in her pre­sence.

Nero was a sage Prince, wise, and excellently well learned in the Latine tongue, and also a good Musitian: yet Plutarch in his book of the jests of no­ble women (to declare the vanitie and lightnes of Nero) reciteth this history: and describing Pompeia, that her bodie was small, her fingers long, her mouth proper, her eyelids thin, her nose som­what sharpe, her teeth small, her lips red, her necke white, her fore-head broad, and finally, her eyes great, and rowling, her brest large & well propor­tioned: What think you would Nero haue done, if hee had so affectionately set his fantasie vpon al other her beau­tiful properties, since that for the loue only of her yellow locks, he was depri­ued both of his wisdom, & also senses. For vaine & light men loue commonly not [Page] that which reason commandeth but that which their appetite desireth.

The loue of the Emperour increa­sed with folly so much, that not onely he counted seuerally al the haires that The folly of the Em­perour Ne­ro descri­bed. his louer Pompeia had on her head, but also gaue to euery hayre a proper name, and in prayse of euery one of them made a song, insomuch that this effeminate Prince spent more time in banqueting and playing with his louer Pompeia, then he did to reform and amend the faults of the common wealth: yea, his folly so much surmoū ­ted all reason, that he commaunded a combe of golde to bee made, and therewith hee himselfe combed her yellow locks. And if it chaunced that any one hayre in combing fell off, hee by and by caused it to be set in golde, offered it vp in the Temple to the Goddesse Iuno: For it was an anci­ent custome among the Romanes, that the thinges which they entirely lo­ued (whether it were good or euill) should bee offered vp to their gods. And when it was once knowne that Nero was so in loue with those haires of Pompeia which were of the color of amber, all the Ladies endeauoured themselues, not onely to make artifi­cially theyr hayre of that colour, but also to weare their garments and o­ther attires of the same colour, in so­much that both men and women did vse collers of amber, brooches, and ringes set with amber, and all their o­ther iewels were of amber. For al­wayes it hath beene seene, and euer shall be, that those things whereunto the Prince is most addicted, the peo­ple follow, and aboue all other couet the same.

Before this Emperour Nero plai­ed this light part in Rome, the amber stones was had in little estimation, & after that hee set so much by it, there was no precious stone in Rome, so much esteemed: Yea, and further­more, the Marchant gained nothing so much (whether it were in golde or silke) as he did in the amber stones, nor brought any kind of marchan­dize to Rome more precious, or more vendible then that was. I do maruell at this vanitie, foras-much as the chil­dren of the world do loue, desire, and labour, more to follow the straunge follie of another: then to furnish and supplie their owne proper necessitie.

Therefore returning againe to my purpose, (most excellent Prince,) by this example you may coniecture what I would say, that is, that if this writing were accepted vnto Princes, I am assured it would be refused of no man: And if any man would slande­rously talke of it, hee durst not, remē ­bring that your Maiesty hath recey­ued it: For those things which Prin­ces take to their custody, wee are bound to defend, and it is not lawfull for vs to diminish their credite.

Suppose that this my worke were not so profound as it might be of this matter, nor with such eloquence set out as many other bookes are: yet I dare bee bolde to say, that the Prince shall take more profit by reading of this worke, then Nero did by his loue Pompeia: For in the end by reading and studying good bookes, men turn and become sage and wise, and by kee­ping ill company, they are counted fooles and vitious.

My meaning is not, nor I am not so importunate and vnreasonable, to perswade Princes that they should so fauour my doctrine, that it should be in like estimation now in these parts, [...]a the amber was there in Rome. But that onely which I require and de­maund is, that the time which Nero spent in singing and telling the hayres of his loue Pompeia: should now bee employed to redresse the wrongs & faults of the common wealth. For the noble and worthy Prince ought [Page] to employ the least part of the day in the recreation of his person: After hee hath giuen audience to his Coun­sellours, to the Ambassadours, to the great Lords and Prelates, to the rich and poore, to his own countrey men & strangers, and after that he be com into his Priuy Chamber, then my de­sire is, that hee would reade this Trea­tise, or som other better then this: for in Princes chambers oftentimes those of the Priuie Chamber, and other their familiars lose great time in reci­ting vaine and trifling matters, and of small profit, the which might bet­ter bee spent in reading some good good booke.

In all worldly affayres that wee do, and in all our bookes which we com­pile, it is a great matter to bee fortu­nate: For to a man that fortune doth not fauour, diligence without doubt can little auaile. Admit that fortune were against mee, in that this my worke should bee acceptable vnto your Ma­iesty, without comparison it should be a great griefe and dishonour vnto mee to tel you what should be good to reade for your pastime, if on the o­ther part you would not profite by my counsell and aduise: For my mind was not onely to make this booke, to the end Princes should reade it for a pastime, but to that end (in recreating themselues) sometimes they might thereby also take profit.

Aulus Gelius in the 12. Chapter of his third booke entituled De nocte at­tica, sayde that amongst all the Schol­lers which the diuine Plato had, one A commendation of Demosthe­nes the Phi­losopher. was named Demostenes, a man among the Greekes most highly esteemed, & of the Romanes greatly desired. Be­cause hee was in his liuing seuere, and in his tongue and doctrine a very Sa­tyre. If Demosthenes had come in the time of Phalaris the tyrant, when Gre­cia was peopled with tirants, and that hee had not beene in Platoes time, when it was replenished with Philo­sophers, truely Demosthenes had been as cleare a lanterne in Asia, as Cicero the great was in Europe.

Great good hap hath a notable man to bee born in one age, more then in another. How hap­py a thing it is to liue vnder a vertuous prince. I meane, that if a valiant Knight come in the time of a couragious and stout Prince such a one truly shall bee esteemed and set in great authority. But if hee come in the time of an other effeminate and couetous Prince, bee shall not bee regarded at all: For hee will rather e­steeme one that wel augment his treasure at home, then him that can vanquish his enemies abroad.

So likewise it chanceth to wise and vertuous men, which if they come in the time of vertuous and learned prin­ces, are esteemed and honoured: but if they come in time of vaine and vi­cious Princes, they make small ac­count of them. For it is an auncient custom among vanities children, not to honour him which to the Com­mon wealth is most profitable: but him which to the Prince is most ac­ceptable.

The end why this is spoken (Most puissant Prince) is because the two renowmed Philosophers were in Greece both at one time: and because the diuine Philosopher Plato was so much esteemed and made of, they did not greatly esteeme the Philosopher Demosthenes: For the eminent & high renowne of one alone, diminisheth the fame and estimation (among the people) of many. Although Demo­sthenes was such a one indeed as wee haue sayde, that is to witte, eloquent of tongue, ready of memory, sharpe and quicke of witte, in liuing seuere, sure and profitable in giuing of coun­sell, in renowne excellent, in yeares very auncient, and in Philosophy a man right well learned: yet hee re­fused not to goe to the Schooles of Plato to heare morall Philosophie. He [Page] that shall reade this thing or heare it, ought not to maruel, but to follow it, and to profit likewise in the same, that is to vnderstand, that one Philoso­pher learned of another, and one wise man suffred himself to be taught of another: For knowledge is of such a quality, that the more a man knoweth, dayly there encreaseth in him a desire to know more. All things of this life (after they haue beene tasted and possessed) cloy­eth a man, wearieth and troubleth him, true science onely excepted, which neuer doth cloy, weary, nor trouble them. And if it happen wee weary any, it is but the eyes, which are wearied with loo­king and reading: and not the spirite with seeling and tasting.

Many Lords, and my familiar friends doe aske mee how it is possi­ble I should liue with so much study? And I also demaund of them, how it is possible they should liue in such continuall idlenes? For considering the prouocation and assaults of the flesh, the daungers of the world, the temptations of the deuil, the treasons of enemies, & importunity of friends: what hart can suffer so great and con­tinuall trauell, but onely in reading and comforting himselfe in bookes? Truely a man ought to haue more compassion of a simple ignorant man then of a poore man: For thereis no greater pouerty vnto a man then for to lacke wisedom, whereby he should know how to gouerne himselfe.

Therefore following our matter, the case was such, one day Demosthe­nes (going to the schoole of Plato) saw in the market place of Athens a great assembly of people, which were hea­ring a Philosopher newly come vnto that place: and hee spake not this without a cause, that there was a great company of people assembled. For that naturally the common peo­ple are desirous to heare new and strange things.

Demosthenes asked what Philoso­pher hee was, after whom so many people went? and when it was aun­swered him that it was Calistratus the Philosopher, a man which in eloquēce was very sweete and pleasant: hee determined to stay and heare him, to the end hee would know, whether it were true or vaine that the people tolde him: For oftentimes it hapneth that among the people some get thē ­selues great fame, more by fauor, then by good learning.

The difference betwixt the diuine [...]. Philosopher Plato and Calistratus was, in that Plato was exceedingly wel lear­ned, and the other very eloquent: and thus it came to passe, that in li­uing they followed Plato, and in e­loquence of speech they did imitate Calistratus. For, there are diuers men sufficiently well learned, which haue profound doctrine, but they haue no way nor meanes to teach it vnto o­thers.

Demosthenes hearing Calistratus but once, was so farre in loue with his do­ctrine, that he neuer after heard Plato: nor entered into his Schoole, for to harken to any of his lectures.

At which newes diuers of the Sages and Wise men of Grecia mar­uelled much, seeing that the tongue of a man was of such power, that it had put all their doctrine vnto si­lence.

Although I apply not this ex­ample, I doubt not but that your Maiesty vnderstandeth to what ende I haue declared it.

And moreouer I say, that al­though Princes and great Lordes haue in their Chambers Bookes so well corrected, and men in their Courts so well learned, that they may worthily keepe the estimation which Plato had in his Schoole: yet in this case it should not displease me [Page] that the difference that was between Plato and Calistratus, should bee be­tweene Princes and this Booke. God forbid, that by this saying men should thinke, I meane to disswade Princes from the company of the sage men, or from reading of any o­ther booke but this; for in so doing, Plato should bee reiected which was diuine, and Calistratus embraced which was more worldly. But my desire is, that sometimes they would vse to reade this booke a little, for it may chaunce they shall finde some wholesome counsell therein, which at one time or other may profite them in their affayres: For the good and ver­tuous Prince ought to graffe in their me­mory the wise sayings which they reade, and forget the cankred iniuries and wrongs which are done them.

I do not speake it without a cause, that hee that readeth this my wri­ting, shall finde in it some profitable counsell: For all that which hath bin written in it, hath beene euery word and sentence with great diligence so well wayed and corrected, as if there­in onely consisted the effect of the whole worke.

The greatest griefe that learned men seele in their writing is, to thinke that if there bee many that view their doings to take profite thereby, they shall perceyue that there are as many more which occupie their tongues in the slaunder and disprayse thereof. In publishing this my worke, I haue ob­serued the manner of them that plant a new garden, wherein they set Roses which giue a pleasant sauour to the nose, they make faire greene plattes to delight the eyes, they graft fruit­full trees to bee gathered with the hands; but in the end as I am a man: so haue I written it for men, and con­sequently as a man I may haue erred: for there is not at this day so perfect a painter, but another will presume to amend his worke.

Those which diligently will en­deauour themselues to reade this booke, shall finde in it very profita­ble counsels, very liuely lawes, good reasons, notable sayings, sentences very profound, worthy examples, and histories very ancient: For to say the truth, I had a respect in that the do­ctrine was auncient, and the Stile new. And albeit your Maiesty bee the greatest Prince of all Princes, and I the least of all your Subiects, you ought not for my base condition to disdaine to cast your eyes vpon this booke, nor to thinke scorne to put that thing in proofe which seemeth good. For a good letter ought to be nothing the lesse esteemed, although it be written with an euill pen.

I haue sayde, and will say, that Prin­ces and great Lords, the stouter, the richer, and the greater of renowme they bee, the greater need they haue of all men of good knowledge about them, to counsell them in their af­fayres, and of good bookes which they may reade: and this they ought to doe as well in prosperity, as in ad­uersity, to the end that their affayres in time conuenient, may be deba­ted and redressed: For otherwise they should haue time to repent, but no leasure to amend.

Plinie, Marcus Varro, Strabo, and Macrobius, which were Historiogra­phers, Diuers Hi­storiogra­phers at controuer­sie, what things were most au­thentike. no lesse graue then true, were at great controuersie, improouing what things were most authenticke in a common weale, and at what time they were of all men accepted.

Seneca in an Epistle hee wrote to Lucullus, praysed without ceasing the Common wealth of the Rhodians, in the which (with much ado) they bent themselues altogether to keepe one selfe thing, and after they had ther­upon agreede, they kept and maintai­ned it inuiolably.

[Page] The diuine Plato in the sixt booke entituled De Legibus ordained and commanded, that if any Cittizen did inuent any new thing, which neuer before was read, nor heard of, the in­uentour thereof should first practise the same for the space of ten yeares in his own house, before it was brought into the Common-wealth, and be­fore it should bee published vnto the people, to the end, if the inuention were good, it should be profitable vn­to him: and if it were nought, that then the daunger and hurt thereof should light onely on him.

Plutarch in his Apothegmes sayeth, that Lycurgus vpon grieuous penal­ties did prohibite, that none should bee so hardy in his Common wealth to goe wandring into strange Coun­tries, nor that hee should be so hardy to admit any strangers to come into his house: and the cause why this law was made, was to the end strangers should not bring into their houses things strange, and not accustomed in their Common wealth, and that they trauelling through strange coun­tries, should not learne new Cu­stomes.

The presumption of men now a­dayes is so great, and the considera­tion of the people so small, that what soeuer a man can speake, he speaketh, what so euer he can inuent he doth in­uent, what hee would hee doth write, and it is no maruell, for there is no man that wil speak against them. Nor the common people in this case are so light, that amongst them you may dayly see new deuises, and whether it hurt or profit the Common wealth they force not.

If there came at this day a vaine man amongst the people, which was neuer seene nor heard of before, if hee bee any thing subtill: I aske you but this question: Shall it not bee easie for him to speake, and inuent what hee listeth, to set forth what he pleaseth, to perswade that which to him seemeth good, and all his say­ings to be beleeued? truly it is a won­derfull thing, and no lesse slaunde­rous, that one should be sufficient to peruert the senses and iudgements of all, and all not able to represse the lightnesse and vanity of one. Things New things and vnac­customed ought not to be vsed. that are new, and not accustomed, neyther Princes ought to allow, nor yet the people to vse: For a newe thing ought no lesse to bee examined and considered, before it be brought into the cōmon wealth, then the great doubts which arise in mens mindes. Ruffinus in the Prologue of his secōd Booke of his Apologie reprooueth greatly the Egyptians because they were too full of deuises, and blamed much the Grecians, because they were too curious in speaking fine wordes: and aboue all other hee greatly pray­seth the Romanes; for that they were very hard of beleefe, and that they scarcely alwayes credited the sayings of the Greekes, and because they were discreete in admitting the inuentions of the Egyptians.

The Author hath reason to prayse the one, and disprayse the other. For it proceedeth of a light iudgement, to credit all the thinges that a man heareth, and to doe all that he seeth.

Returning therefore now to our matter. Marcus Varro sayde, that there were fiue things in the Worlde very hard to bring in, whereof none (after they were commonly accep­ted) were euer lost or forgotten, for euen as things vainely begunne, are easily left of: so thinges with great feare accepted, are with much care and diligence to bee kept and ob­serued.

The first thing that chiefly throgh­out all the World was accepted, was all men for to liue together: that is for to say, that they should [Page] make places, Towns, Villages, Citties and Common wealthes. For accor­ding to the saying of Plato, the first & best inuentors of the common-wealth were the Antes, which (according to to the experience wee see) do liue to­gether, trauell together, do go toge­ther, & also for the winter they make prouision together: and furthermore The proui­dence of the Ants. none of these Antes doe giue them­selues to any priuate thing, but all theirs is brought into their common wealth.

It is a maruellous thing to behold the common wealth of the ants, how nearely they trim their hils, to behold how they sweepe away the graine, when it is wette, and how they drye it when they feele any moysture, to be­hold how they come from their work and how the one doth not hurt the o­ther: and to behold also how they do reioyce the one in the others trauell, and that which is to our greatest con­fusion is, that if it comes so to passe, 50000. Ants wil liue in a litle hillocke together, and two men onely cannot liue in peace and concord in a com­mon wealth.

Would to God the wisedome of men were so great to keep themselus as the prudence of the ants is to liue: When the world came to a certaine age, and mens wits waxed more fine, then tirants sprang vp which oppres­sed the poore, theeues that robbed the rich, rebels that robbed the quiet, murderers that slew the patient, the idle that eate the swet of other mens browes: all the which things consi­dered by them which were vertuous: they agreed to assemble and liue to­gether, that thereby they might pre­serue the good, and withstand the wic­ked. Macrobius affirmeth this in the second booke of Scipions dreame, say­ing, That couetousnes ond auarice was the greatest cause why men inuented the com­monwealth. Plinie in the seuenth booke 56. Chapter sayth, the first that made small assemblies were the Athenians; and the first that built great Cities, were the Egyptians.

The second thing that was accep­ted throughout al the world, were the letters which wee read, whereby wee take profite in writing. According whereunto Marcus Varro sayth, the Egyptians prayse themselues and say, that they did inuent them, and the Assyrians affirme the contrary, and sweare, that they were shewed first of all amongst them.

Plinie in the 7. booke sayth, that in the first age, there was in the alphabet no more then 16. letters, & that great A descrip­tion of the Alphabet. Palamedes at the siege of Troy, ladded other 4. and Aristotle saith, that imme­diatly after the beginning, there were found 18. letters. And that afterwards Palamedes did add but 2. and so there were 20. and that the Philosopher E­picarmus did adde other 2. which were 22. it is no great matter, whether the Egyptians or the Assyrians first foūd the letters. But I say and affirme, that it was a thing necessary for a common wealth, and also for the encrease of mans knowledge: For if wee had wan­ted letters and writings, wee could haue had no knowledge of the time past, nor yet our posterity could haue bin aduertised what was done in our daies.

Plutarch in the second booke en­tituled De viris illustribus, and Pliny in the seuenth booke, and 56. Chap­ter, doe greatly praise Pirotas, because hee first found the fire in a flint stone.

They greatly commended Prothe­us, because he inuented barneyes, and they highly extolled Panthasuea, be­cause she inuented the hatchet. They praysed Citheus, because hee inuented the bowe, and the arrowes, they greatly praysed Phenisius, because hee inuented the Crossebow, and the sling.

[Page] They highly praised the Lacedemo­nians, because they inuented the Hel­met, the Speare, and the Sworde, and moreouer, they commende those of Thessalie, because they inuented the combat on hors-back: and they com­mend those of Affrike, because they inuented the fight by Sea. But I doe praise, and continually will magnifie, not those which found the Art of figh­ting: and inuented weapons to pro­cure warres, for to kill his neighbour: but those which found Letters, for to learne Science, and to make peace be­tweene two Princes.

What difference there is to wet the Penne with inke and to paint the Speare with bloud: to be enuironed with bookes, or to be laden with weapons. To studie how euery man ought to liue, or else to goe priuily and robbe in the Warres, and to kill his Neighbour. There is none of so vaine a iudgement, but will praise more the Speculation of the Sciences, then the practise of the warres. Be­cause that in the ende, he that learneth sciences, learneth nought else but how he and others ought to liue. And he that learneth warlike feats, learneth none other thing, then how to slay his Neigh­bour, and to destroy others.

The third thing, that equally of all was accepted, were lawes. For admit that all men now liued together in common, if they would not be subiect one to another, there would contenti­on arise amongst them, for that accor­ding to the saying of Plato, That there is no greater token of the destruction of a A worthy sentence of Plato: Common-weale, then when many rulers are chosen therein.

Plinie in his seuenth booke, 56. chap: sayth, that a Queene called Ceres, was the first that taught them to sowe in the fields, to grinde in Milles, to paste and bake in Ouens, and also shee was the first that taught the people to liue according to the Law. And by the meanes of these things our Fore-fa­thers called her a Goddesse.

Since the time we neuer haue seene heard, nor read of any realme, or o­ther nation (as well strange as barba­rous) whatsoeuer they were, but haue had Lawes, whereby the good were fauoured: and also institutions of grieuous paines, wherewith the wic­ked were punished.

Although truely I had rather, and it were better, that the good should loue reason: then feare the law. I speake of those which leaue to doe e­uill workes, for feare onely of falling into the punishments appoynted for euill doers. For, although men ap­proue that which they do for the pre­sent, yet God condemaeth that which they desire.

Seneca in an epistle hee wrote vnto his friende Lucille, saide these wordes, Thou writest, vnto mee Lucille, that those of Scicile, haue carryed a great quantitie of Corne into Spaine, and into Affrike, the which was forbidden by a Romaine law, and therefore they haue deserued most grieuous punish­ment.

Now because thou art vertuous, Thou mayest teache mee to doe well: and I that am olde, will teach thee to say well: and this is, because that amongst wise and vertuous men it is enough to say, that the Law commaundeth, appoyn­teth, and suffereth this thing, but in as much as it is agreeing with reason. For, the crowne of the good, is rea­son, and the scourge of the wicked, is the law.

The fourth thing that commonly through the worlde amongst all men was accepted, was the Barbers. And let no man take this thing in mockery. For, if they doe reade Plinie, in the 59. chapter, and the seuenth booke, there they shall finde for a Trueth, that in those former times, the Ro­maines were in Rome 454. yeares, without eyther powling or shauing [Page] the h [...]ires off the bearde of anie man.

Marcus Varro said, that Publius [...] was the first that brought the barbers from Scicilie to Rome: But admit it were so or otherwise: yet notwithstanding, there was a great contention among the Romaines. For, they sayd, they thought it a rash thing for a man to commit his life vnto the curtesie of another.

Dyonisius the Syracusian neuer tru­sted his Beard with any barbor, but when his Daughters were very little, they clipped his beard with sisers: but after they became great, hee would not put his trust in them, to trimme his beard, but hee himselfe did burne it with the shales of nuttes.

This Dyonisius Syracusan, was de­maunded why hee would not trust any Barbours with his beard? He aun­swered, Because I know that there bee some which will giue more to the Bar­bor to take away my life, then I will giue to trimme my beard.

Plinie in the seuenth booke sayeth, that the great Scipio called Affrican, and the Emperour Augustus, were the first that caused them in Rome to shaue their beards. And I thinke the end why Plinie spake these things, was to exalt these two Princes, which had as great courage to suffer the rasours to touch their throats: as the one for to fight against Hanniball in Affricke, and the other, against Sextus Pompeius in Scicilie.

The fifte thing which commonly throgh the world was accepted, were the Dyalls and clockes which the Ro­mains wanted a long time. For as Pli­nie and Marcus Varro say, the Romaines were without clockes in Rome, for the space of 595. yeares.

The curious Hystoriographers de­clare [...]. three manner of dyalls that were in old time: that is to say, Dyalls of the houres, Dyalls of the Sunne, and Dyalls of the Water. The dyall of the Sunne A­neximenides Millesius inuented: who was great Animandraes scholler. The dyall of the water Scipio Nasica inuen­ted, & the dyall of houres, one of the Schollers of Thales the phylosopher inuented.

Now of all these Antiquities, which were brought into Rome, none of them were so acceptable to the Romaines, as the Dyalls were, whereby they measu­red the day by the houre. For, before they could not say, we will rise at seuen of the clocke, wee will dine at ten, we will see one the other at twelue: at one wee will doe that wee ought to doe.

But before they sayde, after the Sunne is vp wee wil doe such a thing, and before it goe downe, wee will do that wee ought to doe.

The occasion of declaring vnto you these fiue antiquities in this pre­amble, was to no other entent, but to call my Booke the Diall of Princes. The name of the Booke beeing new (as it is) may make the learning that is ther­in greatly to be esteemed. God for­bid that I should bee so bolde to say, they haue been so long time in Spaine without dayes of learning, as they were in Rome without the Diall of the Sunne, the water, and of the houres: For that in Spaine haue beene alwaies Spayne cō ­mended for learned mē, & expert in the warres. men well learned in Sciences, and very expert in the warres. By great reason, and of greater occasion, the Princes ought to bee commended, the knights, the people, their wits, and the fertility of their Countrey: but yet to all these goodnesse, I haue seen many vnlearned bookes in Spaine, which as broken Dials deserue to bee cast into the fire to bee forged anew. I doe not speake it without a cause, that many bookes deserue to bee bro­ken and burnt: For there are so many that without shame and honesty doe set forth bookes of loue of the world, at this day as boldlie, as if they taught them to despise and speake euill of the world.

[Page] It is pitty to see how many dayes and nights be consumed in reading vaine bookes (that is to say) Orson and Valentine, the Court of Venus, and the foure sonnes of Amon, and diuers other vaine bookes, by whose doctrine I dare boldly say, they passe not the time but in perdition: for they learne not how they ought to flye vice, but rather what way they may with more pleasure embrace it.

This Diall of Princes is not of sand, nor of the Sunne, nor of the houres, nor of the water, but it is the Diall of Life. For the other Dials serue to know what houre it is in the night, and what houre it is of the day: but this sheweth and teacheth vs, how wee ought to occupie our minds, and how to order our life.

The property of other Dials is, to order things publike, but the Na­ture The pro­perty of this [...]ooke of the Dyall of Princes. of this dyal of Princes is, to teach vs how to occupie our selues euerie houre, and how to amend our life eue­ry moment.

It little auaileth to keepe the dy­alls well, and to see thy Subiects dis­solutely without any order, to range in routes, and dayly rayse debate and contention among themselues.

The End of the generall Prologue.

THE AVTHOVRS PROLOGVE SPEAKETH PARTICVLARLIE of the Booke, called MARCVS AVRELIVS which he translated, and dedicated to the Emperour CHARLES the fift.

THe greatest vanity that I finde in the world is, that vaine men are not onely content to be vaine in their life, but also procure to leaue a memory of their vanity after their death. For it is so thought good vnto vaine and light men which serue the world in vain works: that at the houre of death when they perceyue they can do no more, and that they can no longer preuaile, they offer themselues vnto death, which now they see ap­proch vpon them. Many of the World are so fleshed in the World, that although it forsaketh them in deedes, yet they will not forsake it in their desires. And I durst sweare, that if the World could grant them per­petuall life, they would promise it al­wayes to remaine in their customa­ble folly.

O what a number of vaine men are aliue, which haue neyther re­membrance of God to serue him, nor of his glorie to obey him, nor of their conscience to make it cleane: but like bruit beasts fellow and runne after their voluptuous pleasures. The bruit beast is angry if a man keepe him too much in awe: if he bee weary hee ta­keth his rest, hee sleepeth when hee lifteth, he eateth and drinketh when hee commeth vnto it, and vnlesse hee be compelled hee doth nothing: hee taketh no care for the common-wealth, for he neither knoweth how to follow reason, nor yet how to resist sensuality. Therefore if a man at all times should eate when hee desireth, reuenge himselfe when he is moued, commit adulterie when hee is temp­ted, drinke when he is thirsty, & sleep when he is drousie, wee might more properly call such a one a beast nouri­shed in the mountaines, then a man brought vp in the common-wealth: For him properly wee may call a mā that gouerneth himselfe like a man; that is to say, conformable vnto such things as reason willeth, & not where sensuality leadeth.

Let vs leaue these vaine men which are aliue, and talke of them that bee dead, against whom wee dare say, that whiles they were in the world, they followed the world, and liued accor­ding to the same. It is not to be mar­uelled at, that since they were liuing in the world, they were noted of some world point. But seeing their vnhap­py and wicked life is ended: why will [Page] they then smell of the vanities of the World in their graues? It is a great shame and dishonour for men of no­ble and stout hearts, to see in one mo­ment the end of our life, and neuer to see the end of our solly.

Wee neyther reade, heare nor see any thing more common, then such men as bee most vnprofitable in the Common wealth, and of life most re­probate, to take vpon them most ho­nour whiles they liue, and to leaue be­hind them the greatest memory at their death.

What vanity can bee greater in the world, then to esteeme the world, which esteemeth no man, & to make no account of God who so greatly re­gardeth all men? What greater folly can there bee in man, then by much trauell to encrease his goods, & with vaine pleasures to loose his soule? It is an olde plague in mans nature, that many (or the most part of men) leaue the amendement of their life farre be­hind: to set their honour the more before.

Suetonius Tranquillus in the first booke of the Emperours sayth, that A notable sentence. Iulius Cae­sar. Iulius Caesar (no further then in Spaine in the City of Cales, now called Calis) saw in the Temple the triumphes of Alexāder the great painted, the which when hee had well viewed, he sighed maruellous sore, and being asked why hee did so, hee answered: What a wo­full case am I in, that am now of the age of thirty yeares, and Alexander at the same yeeres had subdued the whole world, and rested him in Babylon. And I (being as I am) a Romane, neuer did yet thing worthy of prayse in my life, nor shall leaue any renowne of mee after my death.

Dion the Grecian in the second booke De audacia sayeth, that the no­ble Drusius, the Almaine, vsed to vi­site the graues and tombes of the fa­mous and renowmed which were bu­ryed in Italie, and did this alwayes, es­pecially at his going to warfare: And it was asked why hee did so? Hee an­swered. I visit the sepulchers of Scipio, and of diuers others which are dead, before whom all the Earth trembled, when they were aliue: For, in behol­ding their prosperous successe, I did recouer both strength and stoutnesse.

He saith furthermore, that it encou­rageth a man to fight against his ene­myes, remembring hee shall leaue of him a memory in time to come.

Cicero saith in his Rhethorike, and al­so Plynie maketh mention of the same in an Epistle: that there came from Thebes (in Egipt) a knight to Rome, for no other purpose, but only to see whe­ther it were true or no, that was re­ported of the notable things of Rome. Whom Moecenas demanded, what he perceyued of the Romaines, and what he thought of Rome?

He answered: The memory of the ab­sent doth more content me, then the glory A worthy sentence of of the present doth satisfie me. And the reason of this is. The desire which men haue to extoll the liuing, & to be equall vnto the dead: maketh things so straunge in their life, that they de­serue immortal fame after their death. The Romaines reioyced not a little, to heare such wordes of a straungers mouth, wherby he praised them which were departed, and exalted them which yet liued.

Oh what a thing it is to consider the auncient heathens, which neyther feared Hell, nor hoped for Heauen: and yet by remembrance of weaknes, they tooke vnto them strength, by co­wardnes they were boldened: throgh feare, they became hardy: of dangers they tooke encouragement: of ene­myes, they made friends: of pouertie, they tooke patience: of malice, they learned experience. Finally (I say,) they denyed their owne willes, and followed the'opinions of others, only [Page] to leaue behind them a memorie with the dead: and to haue a little honour with the dead.

Oh how many are they that trust the vnconstantnesse of Fortune, onely to leaue some notable memorie behinde them. Let vs call to minde some worthie examples, whereby they may see that to be true, which I haue spokē.

What made king Ninus to inuent such warres? Queene Semiramis, to make such buildings? Vlisses the Gre­cian to sulke so many Seas? king Ale­xander, to conquere so many Lands? Hercules the Thebane, to set vp his Pil­lars where hee did? Caius Casar the Romaine, to giue 52. battells at his plea­sure? Cyrus King of Persia, to ouer­come both the Asiaes? Hanniball the Carthaginian, to make so cruell warres against the Romaines? Pyrrhus king of the Epirotes, to come down into Italie? Attila, King of the Hunnes, to defie all Europe? Truely they would not haue What was the occasiō the ancients aduentured their liues. taken vpon them such daungerous en­terprises, onely vpon the wordes of them which were in those dayes pre­sent? but because we should so esteem them that should come after.

Seeing then that wee bee men, and the children of men, it is not a little to bee maruelled at, to see the diuersitie betweene the one and the other: and what cowardnes there is in the hearts of some, and contrarywise what cou­rage in the stomackes of others. For, we see commonly now-adayes, that if there bee tenne of stoute courages, which are desirous with honour to dye, there are ten thousands cowards, which through shamefull pleasures seeke to prolong their life.

The man that is ambitious, think­ing him most happie, who with much estimation can keepe his renowm, and with little care regard his life. And on the other side, hee that will set by his life, shall haue but in small estima­tion his renowme.

The Syrians, Assyrians, the Thebanes, the Chaldees, the Greekes, the Macedo­nians, the Rhodians, the Romaines, the Hunnes, the Germains, and the French­men, if such Noble-men (as amongst these were most famous) had not ad­uentured their liues, by such daunge­rous Enterprizes, they had neuer got such immortall fame as they had done to leaue to their posteritie.

Sextus Cheronensis in his third book, of the valiant deedes of the Romaines saith, that the famous captaine Marcus Marcellus (which was the first of all men that saw the backe of Hannibal in the field) was demaunded of one how he durst enter into battell with such a renowmed captaine as Hanniball was? To whom he answered: Friend, I am a Romaine borne, and a Captaine of Rome, and I must daily put my life in hazard for my Countreys sake: for, so I shall make perpetuall my renowme. Hee was demaunded againe, why hee stroke his enemys with such fiercenes, and why hee did so pittifully lament those which were ouercome, after the victory gotten in battell? Hee aun­swered, the Captaine which is a Ro­mane, and is not iudged to bee a ty­rant, ought with his owne hand to shed the bloud of his enemies, and also to shed the teares of his eyes. A captaine Romane ought more to ad­uance him of his clemency, then of his bloudy victory.

And Marcus Aurelius sayeth fur­ther, when a Romane captaine shall bee in the field, hee hath an eye to his enemies, with hope to vanquish thē: but after they bee vanquished: hee ought to remember they are men, & that he might haue been ouercome: For fortune sheweth her selfe in no­thing so common, as in the successes of warre.

Certainely, these were words well beseeming such a man, and surely wee may boldly say, that all those which [Page] shall heare, or reade such things, will commend the wordes which that Ro­mane spake: but few are they that in­deed would haue done the feates that hee did. For, there be many that are readie to praise in their wordes that which is good: but there are fewe that in their workes desire to followe the same.

Such hearts are vnquiet, and much altered by sight and enuie, that they bare towardes their Auncients which throgh manfulnes attained vnto great triumphs and glorie, let them remem­ber, what daungers and trauells they passed through, before they came thereto. For, there was neuer Cap­taine that euer triumphed in Rome, vn­lesse hee had first aduentured his life a thousand times in the field, I thinke I am not deceiued, in this that I will say. That is to say, all are desirous to taste of the marrow of Fame-present: but none will breake the bone, for feare of How diffi­cult & hard a matter it is to attaine to true ho­nour. perill ensuing. If Honour could bee bought with desire onely, I dare bold­ly say, it would bee more esteemed in these dayes of the poore page, then it was in times past, of the valiaunt Ro­maine Scipio. For, there is not at this day so poore a man, but would desire honour aboue all things.

What a dolefull case is this to see, many gentlemen, and young Knights, become euil disposed vagabonds, and loyterers: the which hearing tel of any famous battell fought: & that many of their estate & profession haue don va­liaunt seates in the same; immediate­ly therewith be styrred, and set on fire through Enuyes heate: So that in the same furie, they chaunge their robes into armour: and with all speede pre­pare themselues to warre, to exercise the feates of armes. And finally, (like young men without experience) make importunate suite, and obtain licence and money of their Friends to go vn­to the warres. But after that they are once out of their Countreys, and see themselues in a straunge place, their dayes euill and their nights worse: At one time they are commaunded to Skyrmishe, and at an other time, to watch: when they haue victualls, they want lodging: and when the pay day commeth, that pay and the next also is eaten and spent.

With these and other like troubles and discommodities, the poore young men are so astonyed: especially when they call to minde the goodly wide Hawles, so well hanged and trimmed, wherein they greatly delighted, to passe the time in Summer-season.

When they remember their great chimneys at home, wherby they com­forted their old limmes and how they vsed to sit quietly vppon the Sunnie bankes in winter. For the remembrance of pleasures past, greatly augmenteth the paines present. Notwithstanding their Parents and friends, had admonished them therof before. And now being beaten with their owne follie, and fee­ling these discommodities which they thought not of before: they deter­mine to forsake the warres, and eache one to returne home vnto his owne a­gaine.

But where as they asked licence but once to goe forth, now they were en­forced to aske it ten times before they could come home. And the worst is, they went forth loden with money, & returne home loden with vices. But the end why these things are spoken, is, that sage and vertuous men should marke, by what trade the euill dispo­sed, seeke to gaine, which is not gotten by gasing on the windowes, but by keeping the frontiers against their e­nemies: not with playing at Tables in the Tauernes, but with fighting in the fieldes, not trimmed with cloath of gold or silkes, but loden with armour and weapons: not praunsing their palfreyes, but discouering the am­bushment: [Page] not sleeping vntill noon, but watching all night: not by aduan­cing him of his apparrell and hand­somnesse, but for his stout coura­giousnes: not banqueting his friends but assaulting his enemies: though a knight do these things, yet he ought to consider, that it is vanitie and foo­lishnesse.

But seeing the world hath placed honour in such a vaine thing, and that they can attaine to it by none other was, the young aduenturous Gentle­men ought to employ therunto their strength with stout courage, to at­chieue to some great acts, worthy of renowne: For in the end when the warre is iustly begunne, and that in defence of their Countrey, they ought to reioyce more of him that dyeth in the hands of his enemies, then of him which liueth accompanied with vi­ces.

It is a great shame and dishonour to men of Armes, and young Gen­telmen being at home, to heare the prayse of them which bee in the wars, for the young Gentlemen ought not to thinke it honour for him to heare or declare the newes of others: but that others should declare the vertu­ous deedes of him.

Oh how many are they in the world this day puffed vp with pride: and not very wise which still prate of great renowne, and yet passe their life with small honesty: For our predeces­sors fought in the field with their lan­ces, but young men now a dayes fight at the table with their tongues. Ad­mit that all vaine men desire and pro­cure to leaue a memory of their vani­tie: yet they ought to enterprise such things in their life, wherby they might winne a famous renowne (and not a perpetuall shame) after their death: For there are many departed which haue left such memory of their works as moueth vs rather to pitty their fol­lie, then to enuie their vertue.

I aske of those that reade, or heare this thing; if they will be in loue with Nembroth the first Tyrant? with Se­miramis, which sinned with her owne sonne: with Antenor, that betrayed The cruelty of Tyrants heee descri­bed, & layd open. Troy his countrey: with Medea, that slew her children: with Tarquine that enforced Lucretia: with Brutus that slew Caesar: with Sylla, that shed so much bloud: with Catilina, that play­ed the Tyrant in his countrey: with Iugurtha, that strangled his brethren: with Caligula, that committed incest with his sisters: with Nero that killed his mother: with Heliogabalus, that robbed the Temples: with Domitian, that in nothing delighted so much, as by straunge handes to put men to death, and to driue away flyes with his owne hands?

Small is the number of those that I haue spoken, in respect of those which I could recite: of whom I dare say and affirme, that if I had beene as they, I cannot tell what I would haue done, or what I should haue desired: but this I know, it would haue beene more paines to mee, to haue wonne that infamie which they haue wonne, then to haue loste the life which they haue lost.

It profiteth him little, to haue his Ponds full of fish, and his parkes full of Deere, which knoweth neyther how to hunt, nor how to fish. I meane to shewe by this, that it profiteth a man little to be in great auctoritie, if hee be not esteemed, nor honoured in the same. For to attaine to honour, wise­dome is requisite: and to keepe it, pa­tience is necessarie. With great con­siderations wise men ought to enter­prise daungerous things. For I assure them they shall neuer winne honour, but where they vse to recouer slander.

Returning therefore to our matter (puissant Prince,) I sweare and durst vndertake, that you rather desire per­petuall [Page] renowme through death, then any idle rest in this life.

And hereof I doe not maruell, for there are some that shall alwayes de­clare the prowesses of good Princes, and others which will not spare to o­pen the vices of euill tyrants. For althogh your Imperial estate is much, and your Catholike person deserueth more; yet I beleeue with my heart, and see with these eyes, that your thoughts are so highly bent vnto ad­uenturous deedes, and your heart so couragious to set vpon them, that your Maiesty little esteemeth the in­heritance of your predecessors, in re­spect of that you hope to gaine to leaue to your successors.

A Captaine asked Iulius Caesar (as he declareth in his Commentaries) why he trauelled in the Winter in so hard frost, and in the summer in such extreame heate. Hee aunswered, I will doe what lyeth in mee to doe, and afterward let the fatall destinies doe what they can: For the valiant knight that giueth in battel the onset, ought more to bee esteemed then fickle for­tune whereby the victory is obtained, since fortune giueth the one, and ad­uentur guideth the other.

These words are spoken like a stout and valiant Captaine of Rome: Of how many Princes doe we reade, whom truely I much lament to see, what flatteries they haue heard with their eares being aliue: and to reade what slaunders they haue sustained after their death.

Princes and greate Lordes should haue more regard to that which is spoken in their absence, then to that which is done in their pre­sence: not to that which they heare, but to that which they would not heare: not to that which they tell them, but to that which they would not bee told of: not to that which is written vnto them beeing aliue, but to that which is written of them after their death: not to those that tell them lyes: but to those which (if they durst) would tell them truth: For men many times refrayne not their tongues, for that Subiects bee not credited: but because the Prince in his authority is suspected.

The Noble and vertuous Prince A mans owne con­science a iudge be­tweene truth and lyes: should not flitte from the truth wherof hee is certified, neyther with flat­teries and lyes should he suffer him­selfe to bee deceyued: but to exa­mine himselfe, and see whether they serue him with truth, or deceyue him with lyes. For there is no better wit­nes and iudge of truth, and lyes, then is a mans owne conscience.

I haue spoken all this, to the en­tent your Maiesty might know, that I will not serue you with that you should not bee serued. That is, for to shew my selfe in my Writing a flatterer: For it were neyther meete nor honest, that flatteries into the eares of such a noble Prince should enter: neyther that out of my mouth (which teach the truth) such vaine tales should issue. I say, I had ra­ther bee dispraysed for true speaking, then to bee honoured for flattery and lying.

For of truth, in your Highnesse it should bee much lightnesse for to heare them, and in my basenesse great wickednesse to inuent them.

Now againe, following our pur­pose I say, the Histories greatly doe commend Lycurgus, that gaue lawes to the Lacedemonians. Numa Pom­pilius, that honoured and addor­ned the Churches. Marcus Mar­cellus, that had pitty and compassi­on on those which were ouercome. Iulius Caesar, that forgaue his ene­mies. Octautus that was so welbe­loued of the people.

Alexander that gaue rewardes and gifts to all men. Hector the Troian, be­came [Page] hee was so valiant in wars. Her­cules the Thebane, because hee em­ployed his strength so well. Vlisses the Grecian, because hee aduentured himselfe in so many dangers. Pyrrhus king of Epirotes, because hee inuen­ted so many engines. Catullns Regulus because he suffred so many torments. Titus the Emperour, because he was father to the Orphanes. Traianus, be­cause he edified sumptuous & goodly buildings. The good Marcus Aureli­us, because he knew more then al they. I doe not say, that it is requisit for one Prince in these dayes, to haue in him all those qualities, but I dare be bolde for to affirme this, that euen as it is vnpossible for one Prince to fol­low all: so likewise it is a great slaun­der for him to follow none.

Wee doe not require Princes to doe all that they can, but for to apply themselues to do som thing that they ought.

And I speake not without a cause that which I haue sayde before. For if Princes did occupie themselues as they ought to doe, they should haue no time to be vicious. Plinie sayeth in an Epistle, that the great Cato, called Censor, did weare a Ring vpon his fin­ger, wherein was written these words; Esto amicus vnius, & inimicus nullius: A poesie which Cato the Censor had engra­uen in his Ring. which is, be friend to one, and enemy to none.

He that would deepely consider these few words, shall finde therein many graue sentences. And to apply this to my purpose, I say the Prince that would well gouerne his common weale, shew to all equall iustice, desire to possesse a quiet life, to get among all a good fame: and that coueteth to leaue of himselfe a perpetuall me­morie, ought to embrace the vertues of one, and to reiect the vices of all: I allow it very wel that Princes should bee equall, yea and surmount and sur­passe many: but yet I doe aduise thē not to employ their force, but to fol­low one: For often times it chanceth that many which suppose themselues in their life to excell all when they are dead, are scarcelie found equall vnto any.

Though man hath done much, and blazed what he can: yet in the end he is but one, one mind, one power, one birth, one life, and one death. Then sithence hee is but one, let no man presume to know more then one. Of all these good Princes which I haue named in the rowle of iustice, the last was Marcus Aurelius, to the intent that he should weaue his webbe: For suppose we reade of ma­ny Princes that haue compiled nota­ble things, the which are to bee reade and knowne: but all that Marcus Au­relius sayde, or did is worthy for to be knowne, and necessary to bee follow­ed. I doe not meane this Prince in his Heathen law, but in his vertuous deedes.

Let vs not stay at his beleefe: but let vs embrace the good that hee did: For compare many Christians with some of the Heathen, and looke how farre we leaue them behind in faith: so farre they excell vs in good and vertuous works. All the olde Prin­ces in times past, had some Philoso­phers to their familiars, as Alexander Aristotle, King Darius, Herodorus: Augustus Pisto, Pompeius, Plauto, Ti­tus, Plinie, Adrian, Secundus, Tra­ion, Plutarchus, Anthonius, Apolo­nius, Theodotius, Claudinus, Seuerus, Fabatus.

Finally I say, that Phylosophers then had such aucthoritie in Princes pallaces: that children acknowled­ged them for Fathers, and Fathers reuerenced them as masters.

These Wise and Sage men were aliue in the company of Prin­ces: but the good and vertuous Mar­cus Aurelius (whose doctrine is before [Page] your Maiesty) is not aliue, but dead: Yet therefore that is no cause why his Doctrine should not bee admitted: For it may bee (peraduenture) that this shall profite vs more, which hee wrote with his handes, then that which others spake with their tōgus.

Plutarch sayeth, in the time of A­lexander the great, Aristotle was a­liue, and Homer was dead. But let vs see how hee loued the one, and reue­renced the other: for of truth he slept alwayes with Homers booke in his How much Homer was helde in ac­count. hands, and waking he read the same with his eyes, and alwayes kept the doctrine thereof in his memory, and layde (when he rested) the booke vn­der his head. The which priuiledge Aristotle had not: who at all times could not be heard, and much lesse at all seasons be beleeued: so that A­lexander had Homer for his friend, and Aristotle for a master.

Other of these Philosophers were but simple men: but our Marcus Aurelius was both a wise Philosopher, and a very valiant Prince: and ther­fore reason would hee should be cre­dited before others: For as a prince hee will declare the troubles, and as a Philosopher hee will redresse them. Take you therefore (Puisaunt Prince) this wise Philosopher and Noble Em­perour, for a Teacher in your youth, for a Father in your gouernment, for a Captaine generall in your Warres: for a guide in your iourneyes, for a friend in your affayres, for an exam­ple in your vertues, for a Master in your sciences, for a pure white in your desires, and for equall match in your deedes.

I will declare vnto you the Life of an other beeing a Heathen, and not the life of an other beeing a Chri­stian: For looke how much glory this Heathen Prince had in this world beeing good and vertuous: so much paines your Maiesty shall haue in the other, if you shall bee wicked and vicious.

Beholde, behold, most Noble, and illustrious Prince, the Life of this Emperour, and you shal plain­ly see and perceyue, how cleare hee was in his iudgement, how vpright hee was in his iustice, how circum­spect in the course of his life, how lo­uing to his friends, how patient in his troubles and aduersities: how hee dissembled with his enemies, how seuere against Tirants, how qui­et among the quiet, how great a friēd vnto the Sage, and louer of the sim­ple: how aduenturous in his warres, and amiable in peace, and chiefly, and aboue all things, how high in wordes, and prosound in senten­ces.

Many and sundry times I haue beene in doubt with my selfe, whe­ther the heauenly and eternall Ma­iesty (which giueth vnto you Prin­ces the Temporall Maiesty, for to rule aboue all other in power, and authoritie) did exempt you that are earthly Princes, more from hu­mane fraylety, then hee did vs that be but Subiects, and at the last I know hee did not.

For I see euen as you are children of the World, so you doe liue ac­cording to the World. I see euen as you trauell in the Worlde: so you can know nothing but things of the world. I see because you liue in the Flesh, that you are subiect to the miseries of the flesh. I see though for a time you doe prolong your life: yet at the last you are brought vnto your graue, I see your trauel is great and that within your Gates there dwelleth no rest. I see you are colde in the winter, and hote in the Sum­mer. I see that hunger feeleth you, and thirst troubleth you, I see your friendes forsake you, and your enemi­es assault you.

[Page] I say that you are sadde and do lacke ioy, I see that you are sicke, and bee not well serued. I see you haue much and yet that which you lacke is more.

What will you see more, seeing that Princes dye: O noble Princes, and great Lords, since you must dye, and become wormes meate, why doe you not in your life time search for good counsell? If the Princes and no­ble men commit an errour, no man dare chastice them, wherefore they stand in greater need of aduise and counsell: For the traueller who is out of his way, the more he goeth for­ward, the more hee erreth. If the people doe amisse, they ought to be punished: but if the Prince erre, he should be admonished. And as the Prince will, the people should at his hands haue punishment: so it is rea­son that he at their hands should re­ceyue counsell.

For as the wealth of the one de­pendeth on the wealth of the other: so truly if the Prince bee vitious, the people cannot be vertuous. If your Maiesty will punish your people with words, commaund them to print this present worke in their hearts. And if your people would serue your High­nesse with their aduise: let them like­wise beseech you to reade ouer this booke: For therin the Subiects shall finde how they may amend, and you Lords shall see all that you ought to doe, whether this present Worke be profitable or no, I will not that my pen shall declare: but they which do reade it shall iudge.

For wee Authours take pains to make and translate, and others for vs to giue iudgement and sentence: From my tender yeares vntill this present time, I haue liued in the World, occupying my selfe in rea­ding and studying humane and di­uine Bookes: and although I con­fesse my debility to bee such, that I haue not read so much as I might, nor studyed so much as I ought: yet notwithstanding all that I haue read, hath not caused me to muse so much as the doctrine of Marcus Aurelius The com­mendation of the [...] of Marcus Au­relius. hath, sith that in the mouth of an hea­then, God hath put such a great trea­sure.

The greatest part of all his works were in Greeke: yet hee wrote also many in Latine. I haue drawn this out of Greeke through the helpe of my friends, and afterwards out of la­tine into our vulgar toung by the tra­uell of my hands.

Let all men iudge what I haue suf­fered in drawing it out of Greeke in­to Latine, out of the Latine into the vulgar, and out of a plaine vulgar into a sweete and pleasant Stile: For that banquet is not counted sumptuous, vnlesse there be both pleasant meates and sauoury sauces.

To call sentences to minde, to place the wordes, to examine langua­ges, to correct sillables: What swet I haue suffered in the hote summer, what bitter colde in the sharpe win­ter, what abstinence from meats when I desired for to eate, what watch­ing in the night when I would haue slept: What cares I haue suffered in stead of rest that I might haue enioy­ed: Let other proue, if mee they will not credit.

The intention of my painefull tra­uels, I offer vnto the diuine Maie­sty vpon my knees, and to your Highnesse (most Noble Prince) I present this my worke, and do most humbly beseech the omnipotent and eternall GOD, that the Doctrine of this Booke may bee as profitable vnto you, and to the common wealth in your Life, as it hath beene vnto me tedious, and hinderance to my health: I haue thought it very good to offer to your Maiestie, the effect [Page] of my labours, though you peraduen­ture will little regarde my paines: for the requiring of my travell, and rewarde of my good will. I require nought else of your Highnesse, but that the rudenesse of my vnderstan­ding, the basenesse of my Stile, the smalnesse of my eloquence, the euill order of my sentences, the vanity of my words, bee no occasion why so excellent and goodly worke should bee little regarded: For it is not rea­son, that a good Horse should bee the lesse esteemed, for that the Rider knoweth not how to make him runne his carrere.

I haue done what I could doe; do you now that you ought to doe, in gi­uing to this present worke grauity, and to mee the Interpretor thereof authority.

I say no more, but humbly doe beseech God to maintaine your esti­mation and power in earth: and that you may afterward enioy the fruiti­on of his Diuine presence in Hea­uen.

The End of the Authors Prologue.

THE ARGVMENT OF THE BOOKE CAL­led THE DIALL OF PRINCES. Wherein the Authour declareth, his Intention and manner of proceeding.

ARchimenedes, the great and famous Phi­losopher, (to whom Mar­cus Marcellus for his know­ledge sake granted life, and after vsing Nigro­mancy deserued death, being deman­ded what time was, sayde, That Time was the inuentor of all nouelies and a Re­gister The defini­tion of time according to Archi­menedes. certaine of Antiquities, which seeth of it selfe, the beginning, the middest, & the ending of all things.

And finally, time is he that endeth all. No man can deny but the defini­tion of this Philosopher is true: for if Time could speake, he would certifie vs of sundry things wherin we doubt, and declare them as a witnes of sight. Admit all things perish, and haue an end; yet one thing is exempted, and neuer hath end, which is truth, that amongst all things is priuiledged in such wise, that shee triumpheth of time, and not time of her: For ac­cording to the diuine saying, It shal bee more easie to see heauen and earth fall, then once truth to perish.

There is nothing so entier, but may bee diminished, nothing so healthfull but may bee diseased, no­thing so strong but may bee broken, neyther any thing so wel kept, but may be corrupted And finally, I say, There is nothing but by time is ruled & gouer­ned, saue onely truth, which is subiect to none.

The fruits of the Spring time haue no force to giue sustenance, nor per­fect sweetnesse to giue any fauour, but after that the Summer is past, and har­uest commeth, they ripe: and then all that wee e ate nourisheth more, & giueth a better taste: I meane by this when the world began to haue wise men, the more Philosophers were e­steemed for their good manners, the more they deserued to bee reproued for their euill vnderstanding, Plato in his second booke of the Common­wealth [Page] sayde, That the auncient Phi­losophers, as well Greekes as Egyp­tians, The saying [...]o Plato. and Caldees, which first began to behold the starres of heauen, and ascended to the toppe of the mount Olimpus to view the influences, and motions of the Planets of the earth, deserued rather pardon of their igno­rance, then prayse for theyr know­ledge.

Plato sayde further, that the Philo­sophers which were before vs, were the first that gaue themselus to search out the truth of the Elements in the Heauen, and the first which sowed er­rors in thinges naturall of the earth.

Homer in his Ilyades, agreeing with Plato, saieth: I condemne all that the auncient phylosophers knewe, but I greatly commend them for that they desired to know. Certes Homer saide well, and Plato saide not amisse: for, if amongst the first Phylosophers, this ignorance had not raigned, there had not beene such contrary Sects in eue­ry Schoole.

He that hath read, not the books, which are lost, but the opinions which the auncient Phylosophers had, will graunt mee, though the knowledge were one, yet their sects were diuerse: that is to say, Cinici, Stoyci, Academici, Platonici, and Epicurei: which were as variable, the one from the other in their opinions, as they were repug­nant in their conditions.

I will not, neither reason requireth, that my Pen should bee so dismeasu­red, as to reprooue those which are dead, for to giue the glory all onely to them that are aliue: For, the one of them knew not all, neyther were the other ignorant of all.

If hee deserue thanks that sheweth mee the way, whereby I ought to goe, no lesse then meriteth hee, which war­neth mee of that place wherein wee may erre. The ignorance of our fore-Fathers, was but a guide to keepe vs from erring: for, the errour of them shewed vs the Trueth, to their much praise, and to our great shame. There­fore I dare boldly say, If wee that are now, had been then, wee had knowne lesse then they knewe. And if those were now, which were then, they would haue knowne more then we know. And that this is true it appeareth well: for that the auncient Phylosophers, through the great desire they had to knowe the Truth, of small and large wayes, the which wee now will not see, nor yet walke therein. Wherefore wee haue not so much cause to be wayle their ig­noraunce, as they had reason to com­plaine The opiniō of Aulus Gellius cō ­cerning time. of our negligence. For, truth which is, (as Aulus Gellius saith) the daughter of Time, hath reuealed vnto vs the errours which wee ought to es­chewe: and the true doctrines, which wee ought to follow.

What is there to see, but hath bin seene? what to discouer, but hath bin discouered? what is there to read, but hath bin read? what to write, but hath bin written? what is there to knowe, but hath bin knowne? Now-adayes, humaine malice is so experte, men so well able, and our wittes so subtill, that wee want nothing to vnderstand, ney­ther good, nor euill. And wee vndoe ourselues by seeking that vaine know­ledge, which is not necessary for our life. No man vnder the pretence of ig­noraunce can excuse his fault, since all men know, all men reade, and all men learne, that which is euident [...]n this case, as it shall appeare.

Suppose the Plough-man, and the Learned-man, do goe to the Law, and you shall perceyue the Labourer (vn­der that simple garment) to forge to his Counsellour halfe a dozen of ma­litious trickes to delude his aduersa­rie as finely as the other that is lear­ned, shall bee able to expound two or three Chapters of this booke. If men would employ their knowledge [Page] to honesty, wisedome, patience and mercy, it were well: but I am sorry they know so much, onely for that they subtilly deceiue, and by vsury a­buse their neighbours, and keepe that they haue vniustly gotten, and dayly getting more, inuenting new trades: Finally, I say, if they haue any know­ledge, it is not to amend their life, but rather to encrease their goods. If the deuil could sleep, as mē do, he might safely sleepe: for whereas he waketh to deceyue vs, wee wake to vndo our selues: Well, suppose that all this heretofore I haue sayde is true. Let vs now leaue aside craft, and take in hand knowledge. The knowledge which we attaine to is small, and that which wee should attain to so great, that all that wee know, is the least part of that wee are ignorant: Euen as in things naturall, the Elements haue their operations, according to the varietie of time: so morall Do­ctrines (as the aged haue succeeded) and sciences were discouered. Tru­ly all fruites come not together, but when one fayleth, another commeth in season.

I meane, that neyther all the Do­ctors among the Christians, nor all the Philosophers among the Gen­tiles were concurrant at one time; but after the death of one good, there came another better. The chiefe wis­dome which measured all thinges by iustice, and dispearseth them accor­ding to his bounty, will not that at one time they should bee all Wise­men, and at another time all simple: For it had not beene reason that one should haue had the fruit, and the o­ther the leaues.

The old world that ranne in Sa­turnes dayes (otherwise called the gol­den world) was of a truth much estee­med of them that saw it, and greatlie commended of them that wrote of it: That is to say, it was not guided by the Sages which did guild it: but be­cause there was no euill men, which did vnguilde it: For as the experience of the meane estate and Nobility tea­cheth vs, of one onely person depen­deth as well the fame and renowne, as the infamy of a whole house and parentage.

That age was called golden, that is to say, of gold: and this our age is called yron, that is to say of iron. This difference was not, for that gold then was found, and now yron: nor for The reason why this is called the Iron-age. that in this our age there is want of them that be sage: but because the number of them surmounreth that be at this day malicious. I confesse one thing, and suppose many will fauour mee in the same.

Phauorin the Philosopher (which was master to Aulus Gelius, and his es­peciall friend) saide oft-times, that the Phylosophers in olde time, were hol­den in reputation: Because there were fewe teachers, and many learners: We now-adayes see the contrarie: For infi­nite are they which presume to bee Mai­sters: but fewe are they which humble themselues to be Schollers. A man may know how little Wise-men are estee­med at this houre, by the great vene­ration that the Phylosophers had, in the olde time.

What a matter is it to see Homer amongst the Grecians, Salomon amōgst the Hebrewes, Lycurgus amongst the Lacedemonians: Phoromeus also a­mongst the Greeks, Ptolomeus amongst the Egiptians, Liuius amongst the Ro­maines: and Cicero likewise amongst the Latines: Appolonius amongst the Indyans, and Secundus, amongst the Assyrians?

How happie were those Phyloso­phers, (to bee as they were, in those dayes) when the world was so full of simple personnes, and so destitute of Sage men: that there flocked great numbers out of diuers countreys, and [Page] straunge Nations, not onely to heare their doctrine: but also to see theyr persons.

The glorious Saint Hierome, in the prologue, to the Byble, sayth: When Rome was in her prosperitie, then wrote Titus Lyuius his deedes: yet notwithstanding, men came to Rome, more to speake with Titus Linius, then to see Rome, or the high capitol therof. Marcus Aurelius writing to his friend Pulio, saide these wordes: Thou shalt vnderstand (my Friende,) I was not chosen Emperor for the Noble bloud of my predecessors: nor, for the fa­uour I had amongst them now pre­sent: For there were in Rome, of grea­ter bloud, and Riches then I, but the (Emperour Adrian my Maister) set his eyes vpon mee: and the Emperor Anthonie my Father in law, chose mee for his Sonne in law: for none other For what cause Mar­cus Aureli­us was cho­sen Empe­rour. cause, but for that they saw me a friend of the Sages, and an enemie of the ig­noraunt.

Happie was Rome to chuse so wise an Emperour, and no lesse happie was he to attaine vnto so great an Empire. Not for that hee was heire to his pre­decessours, but for that hee gaue his minde to studie. Truely, if that Age were then happie to enioy his person: no lesse happie shall ours bee now at this present, to enjoy his doctrine. Salust saith, they deserued great glory, which did worthie feates: and no lesser merited they, which wrote them in high stile.

What had Alexander the great bin, if Quintus-Curtius had not written of him? what of Vlysses, if Homer had not bin borne? what had Alcybiades bin, if Zenophon had not exalted him? what of Cyrus, if the phylosopher Chi­lo had not put his actes in memorie? what had been of Pyrrus king of the Epyrotes, if Hermicles chronicles were not? what had bin of Scipio the great Affricane, if it had not bin for the De­cades of Titus Liuius? what had been of Traian, if the renowmed Plutarch had not bin his friend? what of Ner­ua, and Anthonius the meeke, if Phoci­on the Greeke had not made mention of them? How should wee haue knowne the stoute courage of Caesar, and the great prowesse of Pompeius, if Lucanus had not written them? what of the twelue Caesars, if Suetonius Tran­quillus had not compyled a booke of their liues? And how should we haue knowne the antiquities of the Hebrues if the vpright Ioseph had not beene?

Who could haue knowne the com­ming of the Lombardes, into Italie, if Paulus Dyaconus had not writ it? How could we haue knowne the comming in, and the going out of the Gothes in Spayne if the curious Roderious had not showed it vnto vs?

By these things we haue spoken of before, the Readers may perceyue what is due vnto the Hystoriogra­phers: who in my opinion, haue left as great memorie of them, for that they wrote with their pennes: as the Princes haue done, for that they did with their swords. I confesse I deserue nor to be named amongst the Sages, neyther for that I haue written and Translated, nor yet for that I haue composed.

Therefore (the Sacred and diuine letters set aside) there is nothing in the world so curiously written, but nee­deth correction: and as I say of the one, so will I say of the other, and that is: as I with my will doe renounce the glory, which the good for my lear­ning would giue mee: so in like man­ner euill men shall not want, that a­gainst my will seeke to defame it.

Wee other writers, smally esteeme that labour and paines wee haue to write, although indeede wee are not ignorant of a thousaund enuious tongues, that will backbite it.

Many now adayes are so euil taught, [Page] or to say better, so enuious, that when the Author laboreth in his study, they play in the streetes: when he awaketh, they sleepe, when he fasteth, they eate: when hee sitteth turning the leaues of the booke: they goe hunting after vi­ces abroade: yet for all that, they will presume to iudge, depraue, and con­demne an other mans doctrine, as if they had the authoritie that Plato had in Greece, or the eloquence that Cicero had in Rome.

When I finde a man in the Latine tongue well seene, his vulgar tongue well p [...]lished, in hystories well groun­ded, in Greeke-letters very expert, and desirous to spend his time with good bookes: this so Heroicall and noble a personage, I would desire him to put my doctrine vnder his feete. For it is no shame, for a vertuous and wise man, to be corrected of an other wise man. Yet I would gladly know what patiēce can suffer, or heart can dissem­ble, when two or three bee assembled together at meate, and after (at the table or otherwise) one of them taketh a booke at aduenture in his handes a­gainst that which another will say it is The diuer­sity of mens opinions. too long, and another will say, it spea­keth not to the purpose: another, it is very obscure: & another, the words are not well couched: another will say, all that is spoken is fayned; One will say, hee speaketh nothing of pro­fite: another, hee is too curious, and the other, hee is too malicious. So that in speaking thus, the doctrine re­maineth suspitious, and the Authour scapeth not scot-free.

Suppose them to be therefore such that speake it (as I haue spoken of) & that at the Table do finde such faults, sure, they deserue pardon: for they speake not according to the Bookes which they haue read, but according to the cups of wine which they haue drunke: For that, Hee that taketh not in iest which is spoken at the Table, knoweth not what iesting meaneth.

It is an olde custom to murmure at vertuous deedes, and into this rule entreth not onely those that make them, but also those which writethem afterwards.

Which thing seemeth to be true, for that Socrates was reproued of Pla­to, Plato of Aristotle, Aristotle of A­uerois, Sicilius of Vulpitius, Lelius of Varro, Marinus of Ptolomeus, Ennius of Horace, Seneca of Aulus Gelius, Cra­stonestes of Strabo, Thessale of Gellian, Hermagoras of Cicero, Cicero of Salust, Origines of Saint Hierome, Hierome of Rufinus, Rufinus of Donatus. Donatus of Prosper, and Prosper of Lupus.

Then sith that in these men, and in their workes hath beene such need of correction, which were men of great knowledge, and Lanternes of the World: It is no maruell at all that I haue such fortune, since I know so little as I doe. Hee may worthily One ought not rashly to cōdemne another mans wry­ting. bee counted vaine and light, which at the first sight, as for onely once rea­ding, will rashly iudge that which a wise man with much diligence & stu­dy hath written.

The Authors and Writers are oft times reproued, not of them which can translate, and compile workes: but of those which cannot reade, and yet lesse vnderstand them, to the en­tent simple folkes should count them wise, and take their parts in condem­ning this worke, and esteeme him for a great wise man. I take God to wit­nesse who can iudge, whether my in­tention were good or ill, to compile this worke, and also I lay this my do­ctrine at the feet of wise and vertu­ous men, to the end they may be pro­tectors, and defendours of the same: For I trust in God, though som would come to blame (as diuers do) the sim­ple words which I spake: yet others would not fayle to relate the good in­tention that I meant.

[Page] And to declare further I say, that diuers have written of the time of the sayde Marcus Aurelius, as Herodian wrote little, Eutropius lesse, Lampridi­us not so much, and Iulius Capitolinus somewhat more.

Likewise yee ought to know, that the Masters which taught Marcus Au­relius sciences, were Iunius Rusticus, Cinna Catullus, Sextus Cheronensis, which was nephew to the great Plu­tarke.

These three were those, that prin­cipally, as witnesses of sight, wrote the most part of his life and doctrine. Many may maruel to heare tell of the doctrine of Marcus Aurelius, saying it hath beene kept hidde and secret a great while, and that of mine owne head I haue inuented it. And that there neuer was any Marcus Aurelius in the world. I know not what to say now vnto them; for it is euident to all those which haue read any thing that Marcus Aurelius was husband to Fau­stine, father to Comodus, brother to Anntus Verus, and sonne in Law to Antoninus Pius, the seuenth (of Rome) Emperour

Those which say, I only haue made this doctrine, truly I thanke them for so saying, but not for their so mea­ning: For truly the Romanes would haue set my Image in Rome for perpe­tuall renowne, if so graue sentences should haue proceeded frō my head. Wee see that in our time which was neuer seene before, and heare that we neuer heard before. VVe practise not in a new world, and yet wee maruell that there is at this present a newe booke.

Not for that I was curious to dis­couer Marcus Aurelius, or studious to translate him. For, truely it is worthy he bee noted of wise persons, and not accused of enuious tongues. For, it chaunceth oftentimes in Hunting, that the most simplest man killeth the Deare.

The last thing which the Romaines conquered in Spayne, was Cantabria, which was a citie in Nauarre, ouer a­gainst La-grogne, and scituated in a high Countrey, where there is now a vaine of Vines. And the Emperour Augustus which destroyed it, made tenne bookes, De Bello Cantabrico: wherein are many thinges worthie of noting, and no lesse pleasaunt in rea­ding, which happened vnto him, in the same conquest.

As Marcus Aurelius was brought mee from Florence, so was this other booke, Of the warres of Cantabria, brought mee from Colleyne. If per­haps I tooke paines to Translate this booke, as few haue done which haue seene it, they would speake the like of it, that they did of Marcus Aurclius. Because men are so long in speaking, and so briefe in studying, that with­out any let or shame, they will auowe no Booke to be in the world this day, but that they haue eyther reade, or seene it.

I haue as much profited in this wri­ting, which is humane: as other Do­ctours haue done in matters, which are diuine. It is not translated word for word, but sentence for sentence. For wee other Enterpreters, are not bound to giue wordes by measure: but it sufficeth vs to giue Sentences by weight.

I beganne to studie this worke in the yeare, a thousand, fiue hundred, and eyghteene: and vntill the yeare The time when the Author be­gan to translate the booke of Marcus Aurelius. a thousand fiue hundred, twentie and soure, I could neyther vnderstand, nor know wherein I was occupyed: and albeit I (kept it as secrete as I could) for the space of sixe yeares, yet it was knowne abroad: whervpon the Em­perour his Majestie, being with the Feauer diseased, sent to mee for it, to passe the time away. And I (accor­ding to his commaundement) shew­ed him Marcus Aurelius that then was [Page] vncorrected, and humbly beseeching him sayde: That for recompence of all my trau [...]l [...], I desired no other rewarde, but that no man in his Chamber might copie the Booke.

And in the meane time proceeded to accomplish the worke, because I did not meane in such manner to pub­lish it: for otherwise, I saide his Ma­jestie should be euill serued, and I al­so of my purpose preuented: but my sinnes caused that the Booke was cop­pyed, The booke of Marcus Aurelius, at the first imprinted, without the knowledge of the Au­thour. and conueyed from one to ano­ther: and by the hands of Pages sun­day times written, so that there increa­sed daily in it errours, and faultes.

And since there was but one originall copie, they brought it vnto me to cor­rect: which if it could haue spoken, would haue complained it selfe, more of them that did write it, then of those that did steale it.

And thus when I had finished the worke, & thought to haue published it: I perceyued that Marcus Aurelius was now imprinted at Seuill: And in this case, I take the Readers to be jud­ges, between mee and the imprinters, because they may see, whether it may stand with Law, and justice, that a Booke which was to his Imperiall Ma­iestie dedicated: the author thereof being but an jnfant, and the booke so vnperfite and vncorrected, without my consent or knowledge should bee published.

Notwithstanding, they ceased not, but printed it againe in Portugall, and also in the Kingdome of Nauarre: And if the first impression was faulty, truely the second and the third were no lesse. So that which was written for the wealth and good of all men generally, each man did applye to the profite of himselfe particularly.

There chaunced another thing of this booke, called The golden booke of Marcus Aurelius, which I am ashamed to speake; but greater shame they should haue, that so dishonestly haue done. That is: some made themselus to be authors of the whole worke: O­thers say, that parte of it was made, and compyled of their owne heads: the which appeareth in a booke in priut, wherein the authour did like a man voyd of all honesty, & in another booke, one vsed likewise the wordes which Marcus Aurelius spake to Fau­stine, when shee asked him the key of his Studie.

After these Theeues came to my knowledge, iudge you whether it were ynough to prooue my patience? For, I had rather they had robbed me of my goods, then taken away my re­nowme.

By this all men may see, that Mar­cus Aurelius was not then corrected, nor in any place perfect, whereby they might perceyue, that it was not my minde to Translate Marcus Aure­lius, but to make a Dyall for Princes: whereby all Christian people may be gouerned and ruled. And as the do­ctrine is shewed for the vse of manie: so I would profite my selfe, with that which the wise men had spoken and written. And in this sort proceedeth the worke, wherein I put one or two chapters of mine, and after I put some Epistles of Marcus Aurelius, and other doctrine of some Auncient men.

Let not the Reader bee deceyued, to thinke hat the one, and the other is of the Authour. For, although the phrase of the Language be mine, yet I confesse the greatest part that I knew, was of another mans, althogh the Hi­storiographers and Doctours, (with whom I was holpen) were manie: yet the doctrine which I wrote, was but one.

I will not denye, but I haue left out some things which were superflu­ous: in whose steade I haue placed things more sweete and profitable. So that it needeth good wittes, to make [Page] which seemeth in one language to be grosse, in another to giue it the appa­rance of gold.

I haue deuided into three books this present Dyall of Princes. The first treateth, that the Prince ought to bee a good Christian.

The second, how hee ought for to gouerne his wife and children.

The third teacheth, how he should gouerne his person, and his Com­mon wealth. I had begunne ano­ther booke, wherein was contained, how a Prince should behaue himselfe in his Court and Pallace, but the im­portunity of my friendes, caused me to withdraw my penne, to the end I might bring this worke to light.

The end of the Argument.


The first Booke.
  • OF the Birth and Linage of the vise Philosopher and Emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Also of three seuerall Chapters in the begin­ning of this book, concerning a discourse of his life: for, by his Epistles and do­ctrine the whole course of the present worke is approued. Chap. 1. Fol. 1.
  • Of a Letter sent by Marcus Aurelius to his friend Pulio, wherein hee declareth the order of his whole life. And (among other things) hee maketh mention of a thing which happened to a Romane Cen­sor, with his Host of Compagnia. chap. 2. fol. 5.
  • The Letter concluded by Marcus Au­relius, declaring at large what Science hee had learned, and all the Masters he had. Be­side, he reciteth fiue notable things, in ob­seruance whereof, the Romanes were cu­rious. chap. 3. fol. 8.
  • Of the excellency of Christian Religi­on, which manyfesteth the true God and disproueth the vanitie of the Ancients, in hauing so many gods. And that in the old times, when enemies were reconciled in their houses, they caused also, that their gods should imbrace each other in their Temples. chap 4. fol. 13.
  • How the Philosopher Bruxelius was greatly esteemed among the Ancients for his life. And of the words which hee spake to the Romanes at the houre of his death. chap. 5. fol. 15. chap. 6. fol. 16.
  • How the Gentiles thought that one God could not defend them from their e­nemies. And how the Romanes sent throughout all the Empire to borrow [Page] gods, when they fought against the Gothes. chap. 7. fol. 17
  • Of a Letter sent from the Senate of Rome to all the Subiects of the Empire. chap. 8. fol. 18.
  • Of the true and liuing God. And of the maruailes wrought in the old Law, to manifest his diuine power. And of the su­perstition of the false and faigned goddes. chap 9. fol. 20.
  • How there is but one true God: and how happy those Realmes are which haue a good Christian to be their King. How the Gentiles affirmed, that good Princes (after their death) were changed into gods, and the wicked into Deuils, which the Authour proueth by sundry examples. chap. 10. fol. 23.
  • Of sundry gods which the Ancients worshipped. Of the offices of those gods: How they were reuenged of such as dis­pleased them. And of the twentie elected gods. chap. 11. fol. 26.
  • How Tiberius was chosen Gouernour of the Empire, and afterward created Emperour, onely for being a good Chri­stian. And how God depriued Iustinian the younger, both of his Empire and sen­ses, because he was a perfidious heretique. chap. 12. fol. 29
  • Of other more naturall and peculier gods, which the ancient people had and a­dored. chap. 13. fol. 32
  • What words the Empresse Sophia spake to Tiberius Constantinus, then being Go­uernour of the Empire, reprouing him for lauishly consuming the Treasure of the Empire, gotten by her chap. 14. fol. 36
  • The answere of Tiberius to the Em­presse Sophia Augusta, declaring that No­ble Princes neede not hoord vp treasures. And of the hidden treasure which this good Emperour foundeby reuelation, in the Palace where he remayned. chap. 15. fol. 38
  • How the Captayne Narsetes ouercame many Battailes, onely by reposing his whole confidence in God. And what hapned to him by the Empresse Sophia Augusta; relating the vnthankfulnesse of Princes towards their seruants. chap. 16. fol 41
  • Of a letter which the Emperour Mar­cus Aurelius sent to the King of Scicille, remembring the trauels they had endu­red together in their youth, and reproo­ning him for his small reuerence to the Temples ch, 17, fo. 46
  • The Emperours prosecution in his Let­ter, admonishing Princes to bee fearefull of their Gods. And of the sentence which the Senate gaue vpon the King for pul­ling down the church. ch. 18 f. 49
  • How the Gentiles honoured those that were deuout in the seruice of their gods, chap. 19 fol: 52
  • Of fiue causes why Princes ought to be better christians then their subiects. ch. 20 fol. 55
  • What the Philosopher Bias was: Of his constancy when hee had lost all his goods. And of the ten lawes he gaue, de­seruing to be had in perpetuall memory, chap 21 59
  • Questions demanded of the Philoso­pher Bias. fol. 61
  • The lawes which Bias gaue to the Pri­enenses, 62
  • How God from the beginning puni­shed men by his iustice, and especially those Princes that despised his church: & how all wicked Christians are Parishio­ners of hel, ch. 22 63
  • Of twelue examples why Princes are sharply punished, when they vsurpe bold­ly vpon churches, and violate their tem­ples, ch. 23 65
  • Why the children of Aaron were puni­shed. eodem
  • The cause why the Azotes were puni­shed, eodem
  • The cause why Prince Oza was puni­shed, 66.
  • Why King Balthazar was punished, 67
  • Why King Ahab was punished, 69
  • Why King Manasses was punished, cod.
  • Why Iulius, Pompey, Xerxes, Cateline, Germanicus & Brennus were punished, 70
  • How Valentine the Emp. because he was an euil Christian, in one day lost both the Empire and his life, ch. 24 72
  • Of the Emp. Ʋalentinian & Gratian, his son, which raigned in the time of S. Am­brose, and because they were good Chri­stians, were alwayes fortunate, and how God giueth victory to Princes, more by the teares of them that pray, then thorow the weapons of thē that fight, ch. 25 76
  • Of the goodly Oration which the Em Gratian made to his Souldiers before hee gaue the battell, ch. 26 78
  • Of the Captaine Theodosius who was fa­ther [Page] to the great Emp. Theodosius, died a good Christian. Of the K. Hismarus, and the Bishop Siluanus, and the lawes which they made and established, ch. 27 60
  • What a happy thing it is to haue but one Prince to rule the publike weale: for there is no greater enemy to the Common­weale, then he which procureth many to commaund therein, ch. 28 84
  • That in a publike weale, there is no greater destruction, then where Princes dayly consent to new orders, and make an alteration of ancient customs, ch. 29 f. 88
  • When Tirants began to raigne, and vp­on what occasion commaunding and o­beying first began, and how the authori­ty which a Prince hath, is by the ordināce of God, chap. 30 91
  • Of the golden age in times past: and worldly misery at this present, ch. 31 94
  • How K. Alexander the Great, after hee had ouercome K. Darius in Asia, went to conquer the great India, and of that which hapned to him with the Garamantes, and that purity of life hath more power then force of warre, ch. 32 96
  • Of an Oration which one of the Sages of Garamantia made vnto K. Alexander, a good lesson for ambitious mē, ch. 33. 98
  • A continuation of the sage Garamants Oration, and among other notable mat­ters he maketh mention of seuen lawes which they obserued, chap. 34 101
  • That Princes ought to consider for what cause they were made Princes: What Thales the Philosopher was, & of 12 questions demāded of him, & his answer. c. 35. 104
  • What Plutarch the Philosopher was, Of the wise words he spake to the Emperour Traiane: & how a good Prince is the head of the publique-weale. chap. 36. fo: 108
  • As there are two Sences in the Head, Smelling and Hearing: So likewise, a Prince, who is the head of the Common­weale, ought to heare the complaints of all his subiects, and should know them all, to recompence their seruices, ch: 37. fol. 111
  • Of the great Feast which the Romaines celebrated to the God Ianus the first day of Ianuary. And of the bounty and libe­rality of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius the same day, chap. 38 114
  • Of the answer which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius made to the Senatour Fuluius before all the Senate; beeing re­proued by him, for the familiarity hee v­sed to all men, contrary to the maiesty and authority of the Romane Emperour, wherein hee painteth enuious men, ch. 39 fol. 118
  • Of a Letter which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Pulio; declaring the opinion of certaine Philo­sophers concerning the felicity of man. chap. 40. 124
  • Of the Philosopher Epicurus, fol. 129
  • Of the Philosopher Eschilus. 131
  • Of the Philosopher Pindarus, 132
  • Of the Philosopher Zeno, 133
  • Of the Philosopher Anacharsis, 134
  • Of the Sarmates, 135
  • Of the Philosopher Chilo, 137
  • Of the Philosophers Crates, Stylphas, Si­monides, Gorgias, Architas, Chrysippus, An­tistenes, Sophocles, Euripides, Palemon, The­mistocles, Aristides, and Heraclius. 138. 139
  • That Princes and great Lords ought not to esteeme themselues for being fayre, and well proportioned, chap. 41 140
  • Of a letter written by the Emperour Marcus Aurelius to his Nephew, worthy to be noted of all young Gentlemen, chap. 42 146
  • How Princes and great Lords in olde time were louers of men that were wise and learned. chap. 43 153
  • How the Emperor Theodosius prouided wise men at the houre of his death for the education of his two noble sonnes, Ar­chadius and Honorius, chap. 44 158
  • How Cresus King of Lidia was a great friend and louer of Wise men. Of a letter which the same Cresus wrote to the Phi­losopher Anacharsis, and an other letter of the Philosophers answer to him, chap. 45 162
  • Of the wisdome and sentences of Pha­laris the tyrant: And how hee put an ar­tezan to death for deuising new torments chap. 46 166
  • The letter of Phalaris the tirant, which was sent to Popharco the Philosopher. 169
  • Of seuerall great and powerfull Kinges who were all of them true friends and lo­uers of the Sages, chap. 47. 170
  • The letter of King Philip to Aristo­tle the Philosopher: 172
The second Booke.
  • Of what excellency marriage is, and whereas common people marry of free­will, [Page] Princes and noble men ought to marry vpon necessity and vrgencie. chap. 1 177
  • How the Author prosecuting his pur­pose of marriage, declareth that by means thereof many mortall enemies haue been made good and perfect friends. c. 2. f. 180
  • Of diuers and sundry lawes which the Ancients had in contracting matrimony, not onely in the choyce of women, but also in the manner of celebrating marri­age. chap. 3 183
  • How princesses and great Ladies ought to loue their husbands: and that loue ought not to be procured by coniurati­ons and enchantments, but by wisedom honesty, and vertue desired, ch. 4. 187
  • Of the reuenge which a woman of Greece tooke on him that had killed her husband, as hoping to enioy her in mar­riage, chap. 5. 189
  • That Princesses and great Ladies ought to be obedient to their husbands: and how great shame it is to the husband that his wife should command him. ch. 6. 194
  • That women (especially princesses & great Ladies) should be very circumspect in going abroad out of their houses: and that they should not deserue to be ill spo­ken of by such as resort to their houses: chap. 4 198
  • Of the commodities and discommo­dities which follow princes and great La­dies that go abroad to visite, or abide in their houses, chap. 8 200
  • That women great with child (especial­ly princesses and great Ladies ought to be circumspect for the danger of crea­tures, wherin is shown many misfortunes happening to women with child in olde time, chap. 9 202
  • Of other inconueniences, and vnluckie mischances which haue happened to wo­men with child, chap. 10 207
  • That women great with child (especially princesses and great Ladies) ought to be gently vsed of their husbands c. 11. 209
  • What the philosopher Pisto was: and of the rules hee gaue concerning women with child, chap. 12 212
  • Of three counsels which Lucius Seneca gaue vnto a Secretary his friend who ser­ued the Emperour Nero; And how the Emp. M. Aurelius spent the houres of the day. chap. 13 214
  • The importunity of the Empresse Faustine to the Emperour, concerning the keye of his closet, chap. 14 219
  • The answere of the Emperour to Fau­stine, concerning her demaund for the key of his study, chap. 15 223
  • Of great dangers ensuing to men, by ex­cessiue haunting the company of women And of certaine rules for married men, which if they obserue, may cause them to liue in peace with their wiues, chap. 16 228
  • A more particular answer of the Em­perour to Faustine, concerning the key of his study, chap. 17 235
  • That Princesses and noble women ought not to be ashamed to giue their children sucke with their owne breasts, chap. 18 239
  • A further continued perswasion of the Author, that women should giue their owne children sucke. chap. 19 242
  • That Princesses and great Ladies ought to be very circumspect in choice of theyr Nurses: and of seuen especiall properties which a good Nurse should haue. cha. 20 249
  • Of three other especiall conditions, which a good Nurse ought to haue, that giueth sucke. chap. 21 254
  • Of the disputations before Alexander the Great, concerning the time of the sucking of babes, chap. 22 259
  • Of sundry kinds of Sorceries, charmes, and witchcrafts which they (in old time) vsed, in giuing their children suck, which in Christians ought to be auoided. ch. 23. fol. 260
  • Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Dedalus, inueighing against such women, as vse to cure children by sorceries, charms, & enchantments, ch. 24 264
  • How excellent a thing it is for gentlemē to haue an eloquent tong, ch. 25 270
  • Of a letter which the Athenians sent to the Lacedemonians, chap. 26 273
  • That Nurses which giue sucke to the childrē of Princes ought to bee discreete and sage women, chap. 27 275
  • That women may be no lesse wise then men, & though they be not, it is not tho­row the defect of nature, but rather for want of good bringing vp, chap. 28. 279
  • Of a letter which Pythagoras sent to his sister Theoclea, he being in Rhodes, and she in Samcthrace, both studying Philosophy, [Page] chap. 29 281
  • A further perswasion of the Authour, to Princesses and other great Ladies, to endeauour themselues to be wise, like as the women in elder times were, c. 30. 282
  • Of the worthines of the Lady Cornelia, and of a notable Epistle which she wrote to her two sons, seruing in the warres, Ti­berius and Caius, disswading them from the pleasurs of Rome, & exhorting them to endure the trauels of war. chap. 31. 288
  • The Letter of Cornelia to her two sons, Tiberius and Caius 289
  • Of the education and doctrine of chil­dren while they are young, with a decla­ratiō of many notable histories, c. 32. 294
  • Princes ought to take heede that their children bee not brought vp in pleasures and vaine delights: because oftentimes they are so wicked, that the fathers would not onely haue them with sharpe disci­pline corrected, but also with bitter teares buried, chap. 33, 302
  • How Princes and great Lords ought to be careful, in seeking wise men to bring vp their children: Of ten conditions which good Schoolmasters ought to haue, chap. 34. 309
  • Of the two children of Marcus Aurelius the best wherof dyed, And of the masters he prouided for the other, chap. 35. 317
  • Of the words which Marcus Aurelius spake to 5. of the 14. masters, which hee had chosen for the education of his son: And how he dismissed them from his pal­lace, because they behaued thēselus lightly at the feast of their god Genius, c. 36. 322
  • That Princes and noble men ought to ouersee the tutors of their children, least they should conceale the secrete faultes of their scholler, chap. 37. 326
  • Of the determination of the Emperour when he committed his childe to the tu­tors, chap. 38 331
  • Tutors of Princes and noble mens chil­dren ought to bee very circumspect that their schollers do not accustom themselus in vices while they be yong, but especially to be kept frō 4. vices. chap. 39, 343
  • Of two other vices, perillous in youth, which their masters ought to keepe them from, chap. 40 348
The third Booke.
  • How Princes and great Lords ought to trauell in administring iustice to all men equally, chap. 1 353
  • The way that Princes ought to vse, for choyse of Iudges and Officers, in theyr Countreyes. chap. 2 fol: 357
  • A villaine argueth (in an Oration) against the Romaines, who (without cause or rea­son) had conquered his Countrey: Ap­proouing mainifestly, that through offen­ding the Gods, they had thus preuayled. And the Oration is diuided into chapt: 3. fol. 362. ch: 4. fol: 366. And ch: 5. f: 366
  • That Princes and Noble-men ought to be very circumspect, in choyce of their Iudges and Officers: because therein con­sisteth the benefite of the weale publique. chapt: 6. fol: 373
  • Of a Letter which the Emperour Mar­cus Aurelius wrote to his friend Antigonus, answering an other, which hee sent him out of Scicile, concerning the crueltie, ex­ercised by the Romaine Iudges. The letter is diuided in chap: 7. fol 379. cha: 8. fol. 381. chap: 9. fol. 385 chapt: 10. fo. 387 cha: 11. fol. 391
  • An exhortation of the Authour, vnto great Princes and Noble-men to embrace peace, and to auoyde all occasions of warre. chap: 12 fol. 394
  • Of the commodities which ensue by peace: declaring that diuers Princes (vp­pon light occasions) haue made cruell warres, chap: 13 fol. 397
  • The Emperour Marcus Aurelius wry­teth to his friende Cornelius; wherein hee describeth the discomodities which come by warres, and the vanitie of Triumphes, Chap: 14 fol. 406
  • Marcus Aurelius proceedeth on further in his letter, declaring the order which the Romains vsed in setting forth their men of warre. And of the outragious villainyes which Captaines and Souldiours vse in warre. chap: 15 fo. 408
  • The Emperours further pursuite in the same letter, shewing what great dammages haue ensued, by warre begun with strange and forraigne Realmes. ch: 16 fo. 409
  • Ad admonition of the Author, to Prin­ces and great Lordes, to the intent that the more they growe in yeares, the more they stād bound to refrain frō vices, ch: 17. 415
  • That Princes whē they are aged, should be temperate in eating, sober in drinking, modest in apparel (& aboue al things else) true in their cōmunication: ch: 18. fo. 418
  • Of a letter written by the Emperour M. Aurelius, to Claudius & Claudinus, repro­uing them (being olde men) because they [Page] liued ouer youthfully, chap: 19, fo. 423
  • A prosecution of the Emperours letter, perswading Claudius and Claudinus (bee­ing now aged) to giue no more credite to the world: nor to any of his deceiptfull flatteries. chap: 20. fol: 430
  • A further continuation of the Empe­rour in the same Letter, approouing by good reasons, that in regard aged persons will bee serued and honoured of younger people: they ought therefore to be more vertuous and honest, then they of youn­ger degree. chap: 21. fol: 433
  • The Emperours conclusion of his Let­ter, shewing what perills those olde men liue in, that dissolutely (like young Chil­dren) spend their dayes: And he giueth wholesome councell vnto them, for bet­ter means and remedy therof: ch: 22. 438
  • How Princes ought to take heede, that they bee not noted guiltie of Auarice, be­cause the Couetous man is hated, both of God and man. ch: 24 441
  • Great reasons to discommend the vices of couetous men. ch: 24 444
  • Of a letter which the Emperour Mar­cus Aurelius wrote to his friend Cincinna­tus, who being a Romaine Knight, became a Marchaunt of Capua, reproouing such Gentlemen, as take vppon them the trade of Marchaundise, contrarie to their owne vocation; declaring what vertuous men ought to vse, and the vices which they ought to shunne: instructing also, how to despise the vanities of the world; And although a man bee neuer so wise, yet hee shall haue neede of another mans coun­cell. ch: 25. fol: 447. c. 26. fo. 449. c. 27. 451.
  • A perswasion to Princes & great Lords to shunne couetousnes, and to become li­berall & bountifull: which vertue should alwayes appertaine to a Royall personage. chap: 28 fol. 454
  • A perswasion to Gentlemen, and such as follow Armes, not to abase themselues for gaynes-sake, in taking vpon them any vile office or function. ch. 29 458
  • Of a Letter which the Emperour wrote to his Neighbour Mercurius, a Marchant of Samia: instructing men in those daun­gers, which ensue by traffique on the Seas, and the couetousnes of them that Trauell by Land. chap: 30 461
  • The conclusion of the Emperours Let­ter, reprouing Mercurius, because he tooke thought for the losse of his goods: Shew­ing him the nature of Fortune, and condi­tions of couetous men. ch: 31 fol: 464
  • That Princes and Noble-men ought to consider the miserie of mans nature: And that brute Beasts are in some pointes (rea­son excepted) to bee preferred with men: chapt. 32. fol. 466
  • A further comparison of the miseryes of men, with the liberty of beasts, ch: 33. 469
  • A letter of the Emperour M. Aurelius, to Domitius, a cittizen of Capua, comfor­ting him in his Exile: being banished for a quarrell betweene him and an other, a­bout the running of a Horse. Comforta­ble for such as haue bin in great fauour, & afterward falne into disgrace. ch. 34 fo. 474
  • That princes and Noble men ought to be aduocates for widdowes, fathers of Orphans, and helpes to the comfortlesse, chap. 35 479
  • That the troubles, sorrowes and griefes of widdows are much greater then those of Widdowers: wherefore Princes and Noble men ought to haue more compas­sion vpon such women then men, ch. 36 fol. 462
  • Of a letter which the Emperour Mar­cus Aurelius wrote to a Romane Lady, named Lauinia, comforting her in her husbands death, ch. 37 486
  • A perswasion to widdowes to depend onely vpon Gods will, and exhorting them to liue honestly. chap. 38 489
  • That Princes and Noble men ought to despise the world, because there is no­thing in it but plaine deceit. ch. 39: 493
  • A vehement inuectiue against the de­ceites of the world, with a further proofe by strong and weightie reasons, perswa­ding all men that liue in the world not to trust it, or any thing therein, verefied by a letter of the Emperour to his friend Tor­quatus, chap. 40. 41. 42. fol. 498. 501. 504
  • Princes and Nobles ought not to beare with Iuglers, Iesters, parasites and cōmon players, nor with any such kind of rascals, and loyterers: And of the Lawes which the Romanes made especially on that be­halfe, chap. 43 507
  • How some Iesters were punished by our graue Ancients: and of the Iesters & loyterers in our time, chap 44. 510
  • Of a letter which the Emperour wrote to Lambartus his friend then Gouernour of Hellespont, certifying him that hee had banished from Rome all fooles and loy te­rieg [Page] players: a notable lesson for them that keepe counterfeit fooles in their hou­ses, chap. 45 514
  • Marcus Aurelius proceedeth on in his letter, declaring how he found the Sepul­chres in Hellespont of many learned phi­losophers whereunto he sent all those loi­terers, chap. 46 517
  • The Letters conclusion, relating the cause and time, why and when Iuglers & Iesters were admitted into Rome. ch. 47. 520
  • How Princes and Noble men ought to remember that they are mortall, and must die, with notable consolations against the feare of death, chap. 48. 522
  • Of the death of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius and how there are few friendes that dare speake the truth to sicke men, chap. 40 527
  • Of the comfortable wordes which the Secretarie Panutius spake to the Empe­rour at the houre of his death, ch. 50 531
  • A continuation of the Secretaries spee­ches; admonishing all men to embrace death willingly, & vtterly to forsake the world, and his alluring vanities c. 51. 534
  • The answer of the Emperour Marcus to his Secretary Panutiu, declaring that he tooke no thought to forsake the world: But all his sorrow was, to leaue behinde him an vnhappy sonne to enherite the Empire, chap. 52 588
  • The Emperours conclusion of the matter in question, shewing that sundry yong Princes, by being vicious, haue vndone themselues, and impouerished their Realmes, chap. 53 541
  • Of the wordes which the Emperour Marcus Aurelius spake to his sonne Com­modus at the houre of his death, very ne­cessary for all young Gentlemen to vn­derstand, chap. 54 545
  • Other wholesome counsels giuen by the Emperour to his sonne, and (aboue all) to keepe wise and learned men about him to assist him with aduise in all his affaires, chap. 55 550
  • The Emperours prosecution still in the same Argument, with particular exhorta­tions to his sonne; well deseruing to bee engrauen in the hart of men; ch. 56 554
  • The good Emperour Marcus Aurelius, concludeth both his purpose & life. And of the last words he spake to his son Com­modus, and the Table of Counsell he gaue him. chap. 57 557
The fourth Booke.
  • The Prologue of the worke, declaring what one true friend ought to do for ano­ther, 563
  • A few precepts and counsels meet to be remembred by all such as are Princes fa­miliars, and affected Courtiers. 572
  • The Argument of the Booke entitu­led, The Fauoured Courtier, declaring the entent of the whole worke, 575
  • How it is more necessary for the Courtier (abiding in Court) to be of liuely spi­rit and audacitie; then it is for the Souldier that goeth to serue in the warres, c. 1. 592
  • Of Courtiers brawles & quarrels with Harbingers for their ill lodgings, c. 2. 592
  • How the Courtier should entreat his Host, or master of the house where hee lodgeth, chap. 3 589
  • What Courtier [...] must do to win their Princes fauour, chap. 4. 601
  • What manners and gestures do best be­come a Courtier when hee speaketh to his Prince, ch. 5. 607
  • How a Courtier should behaue him­selfe, both to know, and to visite Noble­men and Gentlemen that are great with the Prince, and continuing still in Court, Chap. 6 612
  • What countenance and modesty be­commeth a Courtier for his behauiour at the Princes or Noble mans table, du­ring the time of his meale, ch. 7 617
  • What company the Courtier should keepe, and how he ought to apparrel him selfe, chap. 8: 624
  • In what manner the Courtier should serue and honour Ladies and Gentlewo­men: also how to satisfie and please the Vshers and Porters of the Kings house, chap. 9, 631
  • Of the great paines and trauels which the Courtier hath, being toiled in suites of law, And how he is to suffer, and carrie himselfe with Iudges, chap. 10 637
  • Of them that are affected in Court, ad­monishing them to bee pacient in their troubles, and that they bee not partiall in the affayres of the common wealth, chap. 11 644
  • That Officers, and such as are affected in Court, should be very diligent & carefull in dispatching the Princes affayres, & [Page] Common-wealth: Also, that in correc­ting, and reforming of Seruants, they ought to bee as circumspect and aduised, Chap. 12 fol: 649
  • That affected and esteemed Courtyers ought to be warie, of beeing prowde, and high-minded: for lightly they neuer fall, but onely by meanes of that detestable vice. Chap: 13 fol. 659
  • That it is not fit for Courtyers to be o­uer-couetous, if they mean to keepe them­selues out of many troubles and dangers: chap: 14 fol. 670
  • That fauoured Courtyers should not trust ouer-much to their fauour and credit in Court, nor to the prosperitie of their liues. chap: 15 fo. 677
  • An admonition to such as are highly in fauour with Princes, to take heede of the worlds deceyts: learning both to liue and dye honourably; and to leaue the Court, before Age ouer take them, chapter 16. fol. 684
  • What continencie ought to be in fauou­red courtyers, alwayes shunning the com­pany of vnhonest women: also to be care­full in the speedie dispatch of suters suing vnto them. chap: 17 fol. 691
  • That Nobles, and affected of Princes, should not exceede in superfluous fare, nor bee ouer-sumptuous in their Dyet. chapt. 18. fol. 698
  • That courtiers fauored of Princes, ought not to be dishonest of their Tongues, nor enuious in their wordes. chap. 19 fo. 709
  • A comendation of Truth, which profes­sed courtyers ought to embrace: And (in no respect) to be found defectiue, in the contrarie, reporting one thing for an o­ther. chap. 20. fo. 718
Certaine other Letters, written by M. Aurelius.
  • Of the huge Monster, seene in Scicile, in the time of M. Aurelius; & of the letters he wrote with bloud vpō a gate. ch: 1. 727
  • Of that which chaunced vnto Antigonus a cittizen of Rome, in the time of Marcus Aurelius: chap: 2 fol: 729
  • How M. Aurelius sought the wealth of his people, & how they loued him. c. 3. 730
  • How at the intercession of manie, sent by the Empresse, the Emperour graunted his daughter Lucilla licence, to sport herselfe at the Feasts. chap: 4 fo. 732
  • Of the sharpe words which M. Aurelius spake to his wife, & his daughter. c 5. 734
  • A letter sent by the Emperor M. Aure­lius, to Catullus Censorius, concerning the newes then in Rome. cha: 6 740
  • M. Aurelius his letter, written to the a­mourous Ladyes of Rome, ch. 7 747
  • A letter sent by M. Aurelius, to his loue Boemia, because shee desired to goe with him to the warres, chap. 8 752
  • The answer of Boemia, to the Emperor M. Aurelius, expressing the great malice, & little patience in an euil womā. c. 9 755
  • A letter of M. Aurelius, to the Romaine Lady Macrine, of whom (beholding her at a window) he became enamoured: decla­ring what force the beautie of a faire Wo­man hath in a weake man, ch. 10 760
  • An other letter, sent by him, to the same Macrina, expressing the firie flames, which soonest consume gentle harts. ch: 11. 761
  • A letter sent by him to the lady Lauinia; reprouing Loue to be naturall: And af­firming that the most part of Philosophers and wise-men, haue beene ouercome by Loue, chap: 12 fol: 763.
The ende of the Table.

THE FIRST BOOKE OF THE DIALL OF PRINCES, WITH the famous Booke of Marcus Aurelius, wherein hee entreateth what excellency is in a Prince that is a good Christian: and contrariwise, what euils doe follow him that is a cruell Tyrant.

CHAP. I. Here the Author speaketh of the birth and lynage of the wise Philosopher and Emperour Marcus Aurelius. And he putteth also at the beginning of this Booke three Chapterss, wherein hee entreateth of the discourse of his life: for by his Epistles and Doctrine, the whole course of this present worke is appro­ued.

AFter the death of the Emperour An­toninus Pius, in the 695. years frō the foundatiō of Rome, and in the 173. O­limpiade: Fuluius Cato, and Cneus Patroclus, then being Consuls: the fourth day of October, in the high Capitoll of Rome, at the sute of the whole Romane people, & with the assent of the sacred Senate, Marcus Aurelius Antonius was pro­claimed Emperour vniuersall of the whole Romane Monarchie.

This noble Prince was naturally Marcus Au­relius a Ro­mane born. of Rome borne, in the mount Celio, on the sixt day before the Calends of May, which (after the Latines ac­count) is the 26. day of Aprill. His Grandfather was called Anni­us Verus, and was chosen Senatour in the time of the Emperours Titos and Vespasian. His great Grandfa­ther was named Annius Verus, which was borne in Spaine, in the free town of Gububa, when the wars were most cruell betweene Caesar and Pompeius: at what time many Spaniards fledde to Rome, and many Romaines ranne into Spaine. By this meanes this Em­perour had a great Grandfather, a Romane, and a great Grandmother, a Spaniard. His Father was named An­nius Verus after his Grandfa­ther, and Great Grandfather, by reason whereof the ancient Histori­ographers call him Marcus Antonius Verus.

[Page 2] And true it is, that the Empe­rour Adrian called him Marcus Ve­rissimus, for that hee neuer forged lye, nor swarued at any time from the truth. These Annti Veri were a kindred in Rome (as Iulius Ca­pitolinus reporteth) which vaunted themselues to come of Numa Pom­pelius, and Quintus Curtius the fa­mous Romane: which (to worke the Romane people safety and his owne person euerlasting memory) willing­ly threw himselfe into the Gulfe, A [...] to [...]l Rome. which afterwards was called Curtius, which as then was seene in Rome. This Emperours mother was called Domitta Camilla, as recounteth Cinna in the bookes that hee wrote of the Romaine pedigrees. That stocke of Camilli, was in those daies highly ho­noured in Rome: for that they con­uayed their discent from that Camil­lus, which was the renowmed and valiant Romane Captaine, who deli­uered Rome when the Gaules had ta­ken it, and besieged the Capitoll. The men that sprang of this linage, bare the name of Camilli, for remem­brance of this Camillus. And the woman that came of the same stocke kept the name of Camilla, in memory of a daughter of the said Camillus. This Camilla refused mariage, and chose to liue among the vastall vir­gins: and there long space remained, enduring a sharpe and hard life. And shee was so vertuous a Romane, 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 Epi­taph.

Camillus loe, doth here engraued rest,
That onely was Camillus daughter deere:
The Epi­taph on the graue of Camilla,
Twice twenty yeares and sixe she hath possest
A couert life, vntoucht of any feere.
The King of Trinacry could not her moue
To taste the sweet delight of Wedlocks band:
Nor traine by sute her sacred mind to loue.
Inclosd [...] in brest so deepe did chastnesse stand,
But oh, great wrong the crawling worms below,
To gnaw on that vnspotted senselesse corse
That rage of youth spent vndefiled so
With sober life in spite of Cupids force,

And this was written in Heroycall verse in the Greeke tongue, with a maruellous haughty stile. But to our matter, yee shall vnderstand, that the Romanes kept a certaine Law in the 12. Tables, the words whereof were these:

Wee ordaine and commaund, that all the Romanes shall for euer haue speciall A worthy law among the Romās. priuiledge in euery such place, where their ancestors haue done to the Romane people any notable seruice. For it is rea­son that where the Citizen aduentureth his life, there the City should doe him some honour after his death. By vertue of this law all the family of Camilli e­uer enioyed the keeping of the high Capitoll, for that (by his force and policie) he chased the French men from the siege. Truly, it is not vn­knowne, that this noble Knight and valiant Captaine Camillus did other things as great, and greater then this; but because it was done within the circuit of Rome, it was esteemed a­boue all his other acts and prowesse. And herein the Romanes swarued not far from reason, for that, amongst all princely vertues, is esteemed to bee the chiefest and worthiest, which is employed to the profit of the com­mon-wealth. The Romane Chro­naclers with tears cease not to lament the ruine of their Country, seing that variety of time, the multitude of Ty­rants, the cruelty of ciuill wars, were occasion that the ancient state of the Romane gouernement, came to vtter destruction, and in steade thereof a new and euill trade of life to bee pla­ced. And hereof no man ought to Chaunges of rulers breed flor [...] of vices. maruell, for it chanceth throughout all Realmes and Nations, by oft changing gouernours, that among the people dayly springeth new vices.

[Page 3] Pulto sayth, That for no alteration which befell to the common weale, for no calamity that euer Rome suffered, that priuiledge was taken away from the li­nage of Camilli, (I meane the gouern­ment of the high Capitoll) except it were in the time of Silla the Consull, when this family was sore persecuted, for none other cause but for that they fauored the Consull Marius. This cruell Silla be­ing dead, and the pittifull Iulius Cae­sar preuayling, all the banished men from Rome returned home againe to the common-wealth.

As touching the Auncestors of the Emperour Marcus Aurelius, what hath beene their trade of life, estate, pouerty, or riches, standing in fauor or displeasure, what prosperity or ad­uersity they haue had or suffered, wee finde not in writings, though with great diligence they haue beene sear­ched for. And the cause hereof was, for that the ancient writers of the Ro­mane Histories, touched the liues of Concerning the Father of Marcus Aurelius. the Emperors fathers (specially when they were made Princes) more for the good merites that were in the children, then for the great estimati­on that came from the Fathers; Iulius Capitolinus sayth, That Annius Verus (father of Marcus Aurelius) was pre­tor of the Rhodian Armies, and also warden in other Frontiers in the time of Trayan the good, Adrian the wise, and Anthony the mercifull. Which Emperours trusted none with their Armies, but discreet & valiant men. For good Princes chose alwayes such Captaines, as can with wisdom guide the Armie, and with valiantnes giue the battell. Though the Romanes had sundry wars in diuers places, yet chiefly they kept great Garrisons al­wayes in foure parts of the world. That is to say, in Bizantium (which now is Constantinople) to resist the Parthiens: in Gades, (which now is called Galizia) to withstand the Por­tugales: in the riuer of Rein to defend The Ro­manes foure Garrisons. themselues from the Germaines: and at Colossus (which now is called the Ile of Rhodes) for to subdue the Bar­barians.

In the moneth of Ianuarie, when the Senate distributed their offices, Distribution of offices. the Dictator being appointed for sixe monethes, and the two Consuls chosen for one yeare: incontinently in the third place, they chose foure of the most renowmed persons to de­send the said foure daungerous Fron­tiers. For the Romanes neyther fea­red the paines of hell nor trusted for reward in heauen: but sought by all occasions possible in their life time to leaue some notable memory of them after their death. And the Romaine was counted most valiant, and of the Senate best fauoured, to whom they committed the charge of the most cruell and dangerous warres. For their strife was not to beare rule, and to be in office, or to get money: but to be in the Frontiers, to ouercome their enemies.

In what estimation these foure Frontiers were, wee may easily per­ceyue, Honourable Armies of the Romans by that wee see the most noble Romanes haue passed some part of their youth in those places as Cap­taines, vntill such time that (for more weighty affaires) they were appoin­ted from thence to som other places. For at that time there was no word so grieuous and iniurious to a Citi­zen, as to say, Goe thou hast neuer beene brought vp in the wars: 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 foure were not only in the Frontiers afore­said in their youth, but there they did such valiant acts, that the memory of them remaineth euermore after [Page 4] their death. These thinges I haue spoken to proue, sith wee finde that Marcus Aurelius father was Captain of one of these 4. Frontiers: it follow­eth, that he was a man of singular wis­dome and prowesse. For as Scipio sayd to his friend Masinissa in Affrike, It is not possible for a Romane Captaine to want eyther wisdome or courage, for thereunto they were predestined at their birth. Wee haue no authen­ticke authorities, that sheweth vs frō whence, when, or how, in what coun­tries, Gb [...]uati­on among the Roman Antiquaries and with what persons this cap­taine passed his youth. And the cause is, for that the Romane Chroniclers were not accustomed to write the things done by their Princes, before they were created, but onely the acts of yong men, which from their youth had their hearts stoutly bent to great aduentures: and in my opinion it was well done. For it is greater honour to obtaine an Empire by policy and wisdome, then to haue it by discent, so that there be no tyranny. Suetonius Tranquillus in his first booke of Em­perours, counteth at large the aduen­turous enterprises taken in hand by Iulius Caesar in his yong age, and how far vnlikely they were from thought, that he should euer obtaine the Ro­mane Empire; writing this to shew vnto Princes, how earnestly Iulius Cae­sars heart was bent to win the Romane Monarchy, and likewise how wisdom fayled him in behauing himselfe ther­in.

A Philosopher of Rome, wrote to Phalaris the Tirant, which was in Ci­cilia, The an­swere of Phalaris to a Romane Philosopher asking him, Why hee possessed the realme so long by tyranny? Phalaris an­swered him againe in another Epistle in these few wordes. Thou callest mee tyrant, because I haue taken this realme, and kept it 32. yeares. I graunt then, (quoth hee) that I was a tyrant in vsur­ping it: For no man occupyeth another mans right, but by reason he is a tyrant: But yet I will not agree to be called a Ty­rant, sith it is now xxxii. yeares since I haue possessed it. And though I haue at­chieued it by tyranny, yet I haue gouer­ned it by wisdome. And I let thee to vnderstand, that to take another mans goods, it is an easie thing to conquere, but a hard thing to keepe an easie thing: for to keepe them, I ensure thee it is very hard. The Emperour Marcus Aure­lius married the daughter of Antoni­nus Pius, the 16. Emperour of Rome, and she was named Faustina, who as sole Heyre had the Empire, and so through marriage Marcus Aurelius came to be Emperour. This Faustine was not so honest and chast, as shee was faire and beautifull. Shee had by him two sonnes, Commodus and Veris­simus.

Marcus Aurelius triumphed twice, The tri­umphes of Marcus Aurelius. once when he ouercame the Parthi­ans, and another time when hee con­quered the Argonants. He was a man very well learned, and of a deepe vn­derstanding. Hee was as excellent both in the Greeke and Latine, as hee was in his mothers tongue. Hee was very temperate in eating and drin­king, hee wrote many things full of good learning and sweete sentences. He dyed in conquering the realme of Pannonia, which is now called Hunga­rie. His death was as much bewayled, as his life was desired. And hee was loued so deare and entirely in the Ci­ty of Rome, that euery Romane had a statue of him in his house, to the end the memory of him (among them) should neuer decay. The which was neuer read that they e­uer did for any other King or Em­perour of Rome, no not for Augu­stus Caesar, who was best beloued of all other Emperours of Rome.

Hee gouerned the Empire for the space of eighteene yeere with vp­right iustice, and died at the age of 63 yeeres with much honor, in the yeere [Page 5] Climatericke, which is in the 63. years wherein the life of man runneth in great perill. For then are accompli­shed the nine seuens, or the seuen nines. Aulus Gelius writeth a Chapter The Cli­materiall yeares of mans life. of this matter, in the booke De nocti­bus Atticis. Marcus Aurelius was a Prince, of life most pure, of doctrine most profound, and of fortune most happy of all other Princes in the world, saue only for Faustine his wife, and Commodus his sonne. And to the end we may see what Marcus Aureli­us was from his infancy, I haue put here an Epistle of his, which is this.

CHAP. II. Of a letter which Marcus Aurelius sent to his friend Pulio, wherein he decla­reth the order of his whole life: and a­mongst other things, he maketh men­tion of a thing that happened to a Ro­mane Censor, with his Host of Cam­pagnia.

MAreus Aurelius, on­ly Emperour of Rome, greeteth thee his old friend Pulio, wisheth health to thy person, & peace to the common­wealth. As I was in the Temple of the Vestall Virgins, a letter of thine was presented vnto me, which was writ­ten long before, and greatly desired of me: but the best therof is, that thou writing vnto me briefly, desirest that I should write vnto thee at large: which is vndecent for the authority of him that is chiefe of the Empire, in especiall, if such one be couetous: for to a Prince there is no greater infamy then to be lauish of words, and scant of rewards. Thou writest to me of the griefe in thy leg, and that thy wound is great: and truly the paine thereof troubleth me at my heart, and I am right sorry that thou wantest that which is necessary for thy health, and that good that I do wish thee. For in the end, all the trauels of this life may be endured, so that the body with diseases be not troubled.

Thou lettest me vnderstand by thy letters, that thou art arriued at Rhodes and requirest me to write vnto thee, how I liued in that place when I was yong, what time I gaue my minde to study, and likewise what the discourse of my life was, vntill the time of my being Emperor of Rome. In this case truly I maruell at thee not a little, that thou shouldest aske me such a questi­on, and so much the more, that thou didst not consider, that I cannot with out great trouble and paine answere thy demand. For the doings of youth in a yong man were neuer so vpright & honest, but it were more honest to The imperfections of young men deserue no publication amend them, then to declare them. Annius Verus my father, shewing vnto me his fatherly loue (not accompli­shing yet fully 13. years) drew me frō the vices of Rome, and sent mee to Rhodes to learn science, howbeit bet­ter accompanied with books, then lo­den with money, where I vsed such diligence, and fortune so fauored me that at the age of 26. years, I read o­penly natural and moral Philosophy, and also Rhetoricke: and there was nothing gaue mee such occasion to study, and reade books, as the want of money; For pouerty causeth good mens children to be vertuous, so that they at­taine to that by vertue, which others com vnto by riches. Truely friend Pulio, I found great want of the pleasures of Rome, especially at my first comming into the Isle; but after I had read Phi­losophy x. yeares at Rhodes, I tooke my selfe as one born in the countrey. And I think my conuersation among them caused it seeme no lesse. For it is a rule that neuer faileth, That vertue maketh a stranger grow naturall in a strange country, and vice maketh the na­turall a stranger in his owne countrey, [Page 6] Thou knowest well, how my Father A most wise and worthy ob­seruation. Annius Verus was 15. years a Captain in the Frontiers against the barba­rous by the commandement of Adri­an my Lord and Master, and Antoni­nus Pius my Father in Law, both of them Princes of famous memory: which recommended mee there to their olde friends, who with fatherly counsell exhorted me, to forgette the vices of Rome, and to accustome my selfe to the vertues of Rhodes. And truely, it was but needfull for mee: For the naturall loue of the country oft times, bringeth damage to him that is borne therein, leading his desire still to returne home.

Thou shalt vnderstand, that the Rhodians are men of much courte­sie, and requiting benenolences, which chanceth in few Isles: because that naturally they are persons de­ceitfull, subtill, vnthankefull, and full of suspition. I speake this, because my Fathers friends alwaies succored me with counsel & mony: which 2 things were so necessary, that I could not tell which of them I had most need of. For the stranger maketh his profite with money, to withstand disdainefull pouerty, & profiteth himself with counsel to for­get the sweet loue of his country. I de­sired then to reade Philosophie in Rhodes, so long as my Father con­tinued there Captaine. But that could not bee, for Adrian my Lord, sent for me to return to Rome, which pleased me not a litle, albeit (as I haue said) they vsed me as if I had beene borne in that Iland, for in the end, Al­though the eyes bee fedde with delight to The heart of a man is seldome sa­tisfied. see strange things, yet therefore the heart is not satisfied. And this is all that touched the Rhodians. I will now tell thee also, how before my going thither, I was borne and brought vp in mount Celio (in Rome) with my fa­ther from mine infancie.

In the common wealth of Rome, there was a law vsed, and by custome well obserued, that no Citizen which enioyed any liberty of Rome (after their sonnes had accomplished tenne yeares) should bee so bold or hardy, to suffer them to walke the streetes A notable custome in Rome. like vacabonds. For it was a custome in Rome, that the children of the Senators should sucke till two yeares of age, till foure they should liue at their own willes, till sixe they should reade, till eight they should write, til ten they should study Grammer, and ten years accomplished they should then take some craft or occupation, or giue themselues to study, or goe to the warres: so that throughout Rome, no man was idle.

In one of the lawes of the twelue Tables were written these words. Wee ordaine and commaund, that euery Ci­tizen that dwelleth within the circuite of Rome, or Liberties of the same, from ten yeares vpwards, to keepe his son well ordered.

And if perchance the child being idle, or that no man teaching him a­ny craft or science, should thereby peraduenture fall to vice, or commit some wicked offence, that then the Father (no lesse then the Sonne) should bee punished. For there is nothing so much breedeth vice amongst the people, as when the Fathers are too negligent, and the children bee too bold.

And furthermore, another Law sayde. Wee ordaine and commaund, that after tenne yeares bee past, for the first offence that the child shall commit in Rome, that the Father shall bee bound to send him forth some where else, or to bee bound surety for the good demea­nour of his Sonne. For it is not rea­son, that the fond loue of the Father to the Sonne, should bee an occasion why the multitude should bee slaun­red: Because all the wealth of the Em­pire The happines of any Kingdome. consisteth, in keeping and maintai­ning [Page 7] quiet men, and in banishing, and ex­pelling seditious persons.

I will tell thee one thing (my Pu­lio) and I am sure thou wilt maruell at it, and it is this. When Rome tri­umphed, and by good wisdome go­uerned all the world, the inhabitants in the same surmounted the number of two hundred thousand persons, which was a maruellous matter. A­mongst whom (as a man may iudge) there was a hundred thousand chil­dren, But they which had the charge of them kept them in such awe and doctrine, that they banished from Rome one of the sonnes of Cato Vti­censis, for breaking an earthen pot in a Maydens hands which went to fetch water. In like manner they ba­nished the sonne of good Cinna, only for entring into a garden to gather fruit. And none of these two were as yet fifteene yeeres old. For at that time they chastised them more for the offences done in iest, then they do now for those which are don in good earnest.

Our Cicero sayth in his booke De Cicero in lib de Le­gibus. Legibus, That the Romanes neuer tooke in any thing more pains, then to restrain the children (as well olde as the young) from idlenes. And so long endured the feare of their Law, and honour of their common wealth, as they suffe­red not their children like vagabonds idlely to wander the streetes, For that Idlenes is the badge of all lewd­nes. country may aboue all other bee coun­ted happy, where each one enioyeth his owne labour, and no man liueth by the sweate of another.

I let thee know, my Pulio, that when I was a child (although I am not yet very old) none durst bee so hardy to goe commonly through Rome with­out a token about him of the craft and occupation hee exercised, and wher­by hee liued. And if any man had beene taken contrary, the children did not onely crie out of him in the streets as of a foole; but also the Cen­sour afterwards condemned him, to trauell with the captiues in common workes.

For in Rome they esteemed it not lesse shame to the child which was idle, then they did in Greece to the Philosopher which was ignorant. And to the end thou mayest see this, I write vnto thee to be no new thing, thou oughtest to know, that the Em­perour caused to bee borne afore him a burning brand, and the Councel an Axe of Armes, the Priests a Hatte, in manner of a Coyse: The Senatours a Crusible on their Armes: the Iud­ges a little Balance, the Tribunes Maces, the Gouernours a Scepter, the Bishoppes Hattes of flowers: the Oratours a Booke, the Cutlers a Sword, the Goldsmith a pot to melt gold: and so forth of all other offi­ces, strangers excepted, which went al marked after one sort in Rome: For they would not agree, that a stranger should be apparrelled and marked according to the children of Rome.

O my friend Pulio, it was such a ioy then to behold the Discipline and prosperity of Rome, as it is now at this present such a griefe to see the calamitie thereof, that by the immor­tall Gods I sweare to thee, and so the God Mars guide my hand in Wars, that the man which now is best or­dered, is not worth so much as the most dissolute person was then. For then (amongst a thousand) they could not find one man vicious in Rome, and now amongst twenty thousand they cannot find one vertuous in all Italy.

I know not why the Gods are so The golden and copper dayes of Rome. cruell against me, and fortune so con­trary, that this forty yeares I haue done nothing but weepe and la­ment, to see the good men dye, and immediately to be forgotten: and on [Page 8] the other side, to see wicked men liue, and to be alwayes in prosperity. Vni­uersally, the noble heart may endure all the troubles of mans life, vnlesse it bee to see a good man decay, and the wicked to prosper; which my heart cannot abide, nor yet my tongue dis­semble. And touching this matter, my friend Pulio, I will write vnto thee one thing which I found in the booke of the high Capitoll, where hee trea­teth of the time of Marius and Silla, which truely is worthy of memory, and that is this.

There was at Rome a custome, and a law inuiolable, sith the time of Cin­na, A famous Visitation vsed by the ancient Romanes. that a Censour (expresly commā ­ded by the Senate) should goe, and visite the Prouinces which were sub­iect vnto it throughout all Italy, and the cause of those visitations was for three things. The first, to see if any complained of Iustice. The second, to see in what case the Common­weale stood. The third, to the end, that yearely they should render o­bedience to Rome. O my friend, Pulio, how thinkest thou? If they vi­sited Italie at this present, as at that time they suruaied Rome, how ful of errours should they finde it? And what decay should they see ther­in, thinkest thou? Truely, as thou knowest, they should see the com­mon wealth destroyed, Iustice not ministred, and moreouer Rome not obeyed, and not without iust cause. For, of right ought that common-wealth to be destroyed, which once of all other hath beene the flower, and most beautifi­ed with vertues, and after becommeth most abhominable, and defiled with vices.

The case was such that two years after the wars of Silla and Marius, the Censour went yeerly to Nola (which is a place in the Prouince of Campa­nia) A towne in the middest of Campa­nia. to visite the same Country as the custome was. And in those dayes, the time and season being very hote, and the Prouince quiet, not disturbed with warres, and perceyuing that none of the people came to him. The Censour said to the Host which lod­ged him: Friend, I am a Iudge sent from the Senatours of Rome to vi­site this land. Therefore goe thy wayes quickly, and call the good men hither which be among the people: for I haue to say vnto them from the sacred Senate. This Host, (who peraduenture was wiser then the Ro­mane Iudge, although not so rich) goeth to the graues of the dead, which in that place were buried, and The folly of a Ro­mane Cen­sour. spake vnto them with a loude voyce saying, O yee good men, come away with mee quickly, for the Romane Censour calleth you.

The Iudge perceyuing they came not, sent him againe to call them: and the Host as he did at the first time, so did he now at the second. For when he was at the graues, with a loud voice he sayd, O yee good men, come hither, for the censour of Rome would talke with you. And likewise they were called the third time with the selfe same words. And the Censour seeing no body come, was maruel­lous angry, and sayde to the Host: Sith these good men disdain to come at my commandement, and shew their allegiance to the sacred Senate of Rome [Page 9] that were aliue, and not those that are dead: the Host made answere, O thou Romane Iudge, if thou wert wise, thou wouldest not maruell at that that I haue done. For I let thee vnder­stand, The wise­dome of a poore Host of Nolo. in this our City of Nola, all the good men, (all I say) are now dead, and lye here buried in these graues. There­fore thou hast no cause to maruell) nor yet to bee displeased with my aunswere: but I rather ought to bee offended with thy demaund, willing me to enquire for good men, and thou thy selfe dost offend with the euill dayly, Wherefore I let thee know (if thou bee ignorant thereof) if thou wilt speake with any good man, thou shalt not finde him in all the whole world, vnlesse the dead bee reuiued, or except the Goas will make a new creati­on. The Consull Silla was fiue moneths our Captaine in this our City of Nola in Campania, sowing the fruit which ye other Romaines gathered, that is to say, he left children without Fathers, Fa­thers without children, daughters with­out Mothers, and Husbands without Wiues, Wiues without Husbands, Vncles without Nephewes, Subiects without Lords, Lords without Tenants, Gods without Temples, Temples without Priestes, Mountaines without Heards, and fieldes without fruites. And the worst of all is, that this wicked and cursed Silla dispeopled this our City of good and vertuous men, and replenished it with wicked and vitious persons. Ruine and decay neuer destroyed the Walles so much, neyther the Mothes e­uer so many garments, nor the Worme rotted so much fruit, nor yet the Hayle beate downe so much corne; as the dis­order and vices of Sylla the Romane Consull did harme, which hee brought vnto this land of Campania. And al­though the mischiefe and euils that hee did heere to the men were manifold great, yet much greater herein was that which he did to their Customes and Manners.

For in the end the good men which hee beheaded, are now at rest with the dead: but the vices which hee left vs in this Land, there are none but proude and arrogant men that delight to com­maund.

In this land there are none other but enuious men, that know nought else but malice. In this land there are idle men, which doe nothing but loose their time. In this land there are none but gluttons, which doe nothing but eate. In this land there are none but theeues, which entend nought else but robberies. In this land there are none but rebels, that do nothing but stirre sedition. And if thou and all the Romanes esteeme these men for good, tarry a while, I will goe to call them all to thee. For if wee should kill and put into the shambles all the euill men, and weigh them as wee doe the flesh of sheepe, or other like be asts: all the neighbours and Inhabitants of Ita­ly should haue meate sufficient for to eate.

Behold Censour, in this land of Campania, they call none good but those which are quiet, sober, wise, and discreet men. They call none good but the patient, honest, and vertuous men. Finally I say, that wee call none good, but these men which will doe no harme, and will occupie themselues in good workes. Without teares I speake not that which I will say, that is, if wee seeke for any of them, wee shall find none but in their graues. For the iust iudgement of God it was, they should repose themselues in the entrailes of the earth, whom the publike weale deserued not to haue aliue.

Thou commest to visite this land, where thou shalt immediately be serued with the wicked, and to hide their faults, their desolute life, and their vices, thou shalt not be a little solicited. Beleeue mee, if thou wilt not vndoe thy selfe, and be deceyued. Trust thou rather these rotten bones, then their deceitfull hearts. [Page 10] For in the end, the examples of the dead that were good, doe profite men more to liue well, then the counsell of the liuing that bee wicked, doe interre and bury all those that be now liuing.

CHAP. III. Marcus Aurelius concludeth the letter, and declareth at large the sciences he learned, and all the Masters which he had. And in the end, hee reciteth fiue not able things, in the obseruance of which the Romanes were very curious.

I Haue recited these things vnto thee, my friend Pulio, to The harme ensuing by euill educa­tion of chil­dren. the end thou shoul­dest know, what an infinit number there is of the wicked sort in the world, and how small & scant a number there is in Italy of the good; and this proceedeth of none other thing, but because the Fathers doe not bring vp their children as our Ancesters did. It is vnpossible a yong child should be vicious, if with due correction he had been instructed in vertues. Annius Verus my Father, in this case deserueth as much prayse, as I doe reproach. For whiles I was young, he neuer suffered me to sleepe in bed, to sit in chayre, to eate with him at his Table; neyther durst I lift vp mine eies to looke him in the face. And oftentimes he sayde vnto mee; Marcus, my sonne, I had rather thou shouldest bee an honest Romane, then a dissolute Philosopher. Thou desirest mee to write vnto thee, how many Masters I had, and what sciences I learned in my youth. Know thou, that I had many good Masters, though I am become an euill Schol­ler. I learned also diuers sciences, though presently I know little; not for that I forgot them, but because the affaires of the Empire of Rome, excluded mee from them, and caused me to forsake them. For it is a gene­ral rule; That Science in that place is ne­uer permanent, where the person is not at liberty.

I studyed Grammer with a Ma­ster called Euphermon, who sayde he was a Spaniard borne, and his head was hoare for age. In speech he was very temperate, in correction some­what seuere, and in life exceeding honest. For there was a law in Rome, that the childrens Masters should bee very old: So that if the Disciple were ten yeares of age, the Master should bee aboue fifty. I studyed a long time Rethoricke, and the Law, vnder a Greeke called Alexander, borne in Lycaonya, which was so excellent an Oratour, that if hee had had as A Countrey of the lesser Asia, neere Phrygia. great a grace in writing with his pen, as he had eloquence in speaking with his tongue: truly hee had beene no lesse renowmed among the Gre­cians, then Cicero was honored among the Romans. After the death of this my Maister (at Naples) I went to Rhodes, & heard Rhetoricke again of Orosus of Pharanton, & of Pulio, which truly were men expert, and excellent in the art of Oratorie, and especially in making Comedies, Tragedies, & Enterludes, they were very fine, and had a goodly grace. Commodus Calce­don was my first Maister in naturall Phylosophy. He was a graue man, and in great credite with Adrian, he tran­slated Homer out of Greeke into Latin. After this man was dead, I tooke Sex­tus Cheronensis for my Maister, who was Nephew to Plutarch the great, which Plutarch was Traianus Maister. I knew this Sextus Cheronensis at 35. yeares of age, at what time I doubt, whether there hath beene any Phylo­sopher [Page 11] that euer was so well estee­med throughout the Romane Empire as he. I haue him here vvith me, and although hee be fourescore years old, yet continually he vvriteth the Histo­ries and gests done of my time.

I let thee know my friend Pulio, that I studyed the law two yeers, and the seeking of the lawes of many na­tions, was occasion that I knew ma­ny Antiquities: and in this science Volucius Mecianus vvas my master, a man vvhich could reade it vvell, and also dispute of it better. So that on a time hee demaunded of me merily, and said. Tel mee Marke, doest thou Conference betwixt Marcus and his Master. thinke there is any Law in the World that I knovv not? and I answered him; Tell mee Master, is there any Lavv in the World that thou obser­uest.

The sift yeere that I vvas at Rhodes there came a marnellous pestilence, vvhich vvas the occasion of the disso­lution of our Schoole, vvhich vvas in a narrovv and little place, and be­ing there a certaine Painter, painting a rich and excellent Worke for the realme of Palestine, I then (for a truth) learned there to dravv and paint, and my Master vvas named Diogenetus, vvho in those dayes vvas a famous Painter. He painted in Rome sixe worthie Princes in one Table, and 6. other tirannous Emperours in an o­ther. And amongst those euill, Nero the cruel was painted so liuely that he seemed aliue to all those that savv him, and that Table vvherein Nero vvas so liuely dravvne, vvas by decrees of the sacred Senate commanded to be burnt. For they sayde, That a man of so wicked a life deserued not to be re­presented in so goodly a Table. Others sayde, that it was so naturall and per­fect, that hee made all men afrayde that beheld him, and if he had been left there a few dayes, that hee would haue spoken as if he had been aliue. I studyed the art of Necromancy a while, with all the kindes of Gyro­mancy and Chiromancie. In this science I had no particular Master, but that sometimes I went to heare Apolonius Lecture. After I was mar­ried to Faustine, I learned Cosmo­graphy in the City of Argelata, which is the chiefest towne of Illyrta, and my Masters were Iunius Rusticus, and Cyna Catudus, Chroniclers & Coun­cellours to Adrian my Master, and Antoninus my Father in Law. And becaused I would not be ignorant in a­ny of these things, that mans abilitie might attaine to, being at the wars of Dalia, I gaue my selfe to Musicke, and was apt to take it, and my Master was named Geminus Comodus, a man of a quicke hand to play, and of as pleasāt a voice to sing, as euer I heard Romane tongue prompt to speake.

This was the order of my life, and the time that I spent in learning. And (of good reason) a man so occupied cannot chuse but bee vertuous. But I sweare and confesse to thee, that I did not so much giue my selfe to stu­die, but that euery day I lost time en­ough. For Youth and the tender flesh desireth liberty, and although a man accustome it with trauels, yet he findeth vacant time in it also for his pleasures. Although all the ancient Romaines were (in diuers things) ve­ry studious; yet notwithstanding, a­mongst all ouer, and besides these, there were fiue things whereunto they had euer a great respect: and to those that therein offended, neyther requests auayled, rewards profited, nor law (olde nor new) dispensed, Truly their good wils are to be com­mended, and their diligence to bee exalted. For the Princes that gouern great Realms ought to employ their harts to make good lawes, and to oc­cupie their eyes to see them duely ex­cuted throughout the common­wealth. [Page 12] These fiue [...]eings were these.

1 The first, they ordayned, that Fiue espe­cial respects among the Romanes. the Priests should not be dishonest. For in that Realme where Priests are dishonest, it is a token that the Gods against the people are angry.

2 The second, it was not suffered in Rome, that the Virgines Vestals should at their pleasure stay abroad. For it is but reason, that shee which of her owne free will hath heretofore promised openly to bee good, should now (if shee change her mind) be compelled in secret to bee chast.

3 The third, they decreede that the Iudges should bee iust and vp­right. For there is nothing that de­cayeth a common wealth more then a Iudge who hath not for all men one ballance indifferent.

4 The fourth was, that the Cap­taines that should goe to the warres, should not bee Cowards: for there is no like daunger to the Common­wealth, nor no like slaunder to the Prince, as to commit the charge of men to him in the Field, who will be first to commaund, and last to fight.

The fifth was, that they which had charge of bringing vp of children, should not be vicious. For there is nothing more monstrous and more slanderous, then he that is a Master of children, should bee subiect and ser­uant to vices.

How thinkest thou, my friend Pulio, when all these things were ob­serued in Rome: Thinkest thou that the youth was so dissolute, as at this present? Thinkest thou indeed, that it is the same Rome, wherein (in times past) were so notable, good and aun­cient men? Beleeuest thou that it is that Rome, wherein (in the golden age) the old men were so honest, and the children so wel taught, the Armi­es well ordered, and the Iudges and Senatours so vpright and iust? I call God to witnesse, and sweare to thee, that it is not Rome, neyther hath it a­ny likenesse of Rome, nor yet any grace to be Rome, and hee that would say that this Rome was the olde Rome, knoweth little of Rome. The matter was this, that the auncient and vertuous Where the Gods are displeased, all goodnes decayeth. Romans being dead, it seemeth to the Gods, that we are not yet wor­thy to enioy their houses. So that eyther this is not Rome, or else we bee not the Romanes of Rome. For con­sidering the prowesse and vertuous deedes of the auncient Romanes, and weighing also our dissolute liues, it were a very great infamy for them to call vs their Successors. I desired my friend Pulio, to write vnto thee al these things, to the end thou mayest see what we were, and what wee are. For great things haue need of great power, and require a long time before they can grow, and come to their per­fection, and then afterward at one mo­ment, and with one blow, they fall down to the ground.

I haue beene more tedious in my letter then I thought to haue beene, and now I haue tolde thee that, which with diligence (by reason of my great affaires) in three or foure times, I haue written of that that wanteth in thine, and is too much in mine. We shall make a reasodable letter, and since I pardon thee for being too briefe, pardon thou mee also for be­ing too long. I saw thee once enquire for Vnicornes horne in Alexandry, wherefore now I send thee a good peece, and likewise I send thee a horse which in my iudgement is good. Ad­uertise mee if thy daughter Drusilla bee aliue, with whom I was wont to laugh, and I will helpe her to a mar­riage. The immortall Gods keepe mee, O my Pulio, thy wife, thy step­mother, and thy daughter, and sa­lute them all from me, and Faustine. [Page 13] Marke of Mount Celio, Emperour of Rome, with his owne hand writeth vnto thee.

CHAP. IIII. Of the excellency of Christian religion, which manifesteth the true God, and disproueth the vanity of the Ancients hauing so many Gods. And that in the olde time, when the enemies were reconciled in their houses, they caused also, that the Gods should embrace each other in the Temples.

HE that is the onely diuine Word be­gotten of the Fa­ther, Lord perpetu­all of the Hierarchi­es, more auncient A most di­uine and Christian Confession. then the Heauens, Prince of all Holinesse, chiefe head from whom all had their beginning, the greatest of all Gods, and Creator of all creatures, in the profoundnesse of his eternall sapience, accordeth all the Harmony and composition of Christian Religion. This is such a manner of sure matter, and so well layed, that neyther the miseries, which spring of the infections of naughtie Christians can trouble, nor yet the boisterous windes of the Here­tiques are able to moue. For it were more likely that Heauen and Earth should both perish, then it should sus­pend for one day, & that there should be no Christian Religion. The an­cient Gods which were inuentors of worldly things, as the foundation of their reproued sects was but a flying sand, and an vnstable ground, full of daungerous and erroneous abuses, so some of those poore wretches, loo­king perhaps like a ship running vpon a rocke, suspecting nothing, were drowned, Other like ruined buildings were shaken in sunder, and sell down dead, Finally, these Gods which on­ly bare the name of Gods, shall be for euermore forgotten. But hee onely shall bee perpetuall, which in God by God, and through God hath his be­ginning.

Many and sundry were the multi­tude of the Nations which haue been in times past. That is to wit, the Siri­ans, the Assyrians, Persians, Medians, Macedonians, Grecians, Cythians, Ar­ginians, Diuersity of Nations. Corinthians, Caldeans, Indians, Athenians, Lacedemonians, Africans, Vandales Sweuians, Allaines, Hungari­ans, Germaignes, Britons, Hebrews, Pa­lestines, Gentiles, Iberthalides, Mauri­ans, Lucitanians, Gothes and Spaniards. And truly, in al these looke how great the difference amongst them in their customes and manners was, so much diuersity was of the Ceremonies which they vsed, & their Gods which they honoured. For the Gentiles had this errour, that they sayd, one alone was not of power sufficient to create such a multitude as were created. If I were before all the Sages that euer were, they would not say the contra­ry, but without comparison the gods whom they worshipped and inuented were greater in multitude then the Realmes and Prouinces which they conquered and possessed. For by that folly the auncient Poets durst affirme in their writings, that the Gods of one Nation and Country were mortall enemies vnto the Gods of ano­ther Prouince. So that the Gods of Troy enuied the Gods of Greece more then the Prince of Greece enuied the Prince of Troy.

What a strange thing was it to see the Assyrians in what reuerence they worshipped the God Belus. The Egyptians the God Apis. The Cal­deans the God Assas The Babi­lonians the deuouring Dragon. [Page 14] The Pharaones the statue of gold. The Palestines Belzebub. The Romans ho­noured the God Iupiter. The Affri­cans the God Mars The Corinthians the God Apollo. The Arabians God Astaroth. The Arginians the Sun. Those of Acaia the Moone. The Ci­donians Belphegorn. The Amonites Balim. The Indians Baccus. The Lacedemonians, Osiges. The Mace­donians did sacrifice to Mercurie. The Ephesians to their goddesse Di­ana. The Greekes to Iuno. The Ar­menians to Liber. The Troians to Vesta. The Latines to Februa. The Tarentines to Ceres. The Rhodians, (as sayth Apolonius Thianeus) wor­shipped the God Ianus, and aboue all things, wee ought to maruell at this, That they striued oftentimes a­mongst themselues, not so much vp­on the possessions and seignories of Realmes, as vpon a certaine obstina­cie they had to maintaine the Gods of the one, to bee of greater power then the others: for they thought if their gods were not esteemed, that the people should be empouerished, vnfortunate, and persecuted.

Pulio in his second booke De dis­solatione regionum Orientarum, decla­reth that the first Prouince that re­belled against the Emperour Helius Adrianus (which was the fifteenth Emperour of Rome) was the land of Palestine, against which, was sent a Captaine, named Iulius Seuerus, a man of great courage, and very for­tunate, and aduenturous in Armes. This Captaine did not onely finish the warres, but hee wrought such an outragious destruction in that land, that he besieged 52. Cities, and ra­zed them to the ground, and burned 680. Villages, and slew so many in battell skirmish, and by Iustice, that amounted to the number of 5000. persons. For vnto the proud and cruell Captaines victory can neuer bee glorious, vnlesse they wa­ter the ground with the bloud of their enemies.

And furthermore, in the Cities and Townes besieged, the children, olde men and women, which dyed through hunger and pestilence, were more in number, then those which were slaine in the wars. For in wars the sword of the enemies lighteth not vpon all, but pestilence, and fa­mine, hath no respect to any.

After this warre of the Palestines was ended, immediately after arose a more crueller betwixt the Alleynes, and Armenians. For there are many The occasion of the warres be­tweene the Alleines [...] Armenians. that see the beginning of the troubles and miseries which arise in Realmes; but there are few that consider the end, and seeke to remedie the same. The occasion of this warre was, as they came to the feast of the Mount Olimpus, they fell in disputations, whether of their Gods were better, and which of them ought to bee pre­ferred before other. Whereof there sprang such contradictions, and such mortall hatred, that on euery part they were furiously moued to warres, and so vnder a colour to maintaine the gods which they honoured, both the common wealthes were brought into great pouerty, and the people al­so into great misery.

The Emperour Helius Adrianus, seeing such cruell warres to arise vp­on so light occasion, sent thither the Captaine aboue named, Iulius Seue­rus, to pacifie the Allaines and Arme­nians, and commaunded him that he should persecute those with warres, which would not be ruled by his ar­bitremēt & sentence. For those iust­ly deserue the sword, which with no reasonable conditions will condis­cend vnto peace. But Iulius Seue­rus vsed such policy that he made thē good friends, and neuer touched them, nor came neare them. Which [Page 15] thing was no lesse acceptable to the Emperour, then profitable to the Realmes. For the Captaine which subdueth the Country by entreatie, deserueth more honor then he which ouercommeth it by battell. The a­greement of the peace was made vp­on such condition, that the Allaines should take for their Gods the Ar­menian Gods, and the Armenians on the contrary, the Gods of the Al­laines. And further, when the peo­ple should embrace and reconcile themselues to the Senate, that then the Gods should kisse the one the o­ther, and to be reconciled to the tem­ple. The vanity of the Ancients was such, and the blindnesse of mortall men so great, & so subiect were they to diuelish deuises, that as easily as the eternall wisedome createth a true man now a dayes: so easily then a vain man might haue inuented a false God. For the Lacedemonians had this opinion, that men had no lesse power to inuent gods, then the gods had to create men.

CHAP. V. How the Philosopher Bruxellus was greatly esteemed amongst the Ancients for his life, and the words which hee spake vnto the Romanes at the houre of his death.

PHarasmaco in his 20 booke De libertate Deorum (whereof Cicero maketh mē ­tion Cicero de natura De­orum. in his booke, De natura Deorum) sayth, that when the Gothes tooke Rome, and besieged the high Capi­toll: there came amongst 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 Philosophers, this Bruxellus was had in great veneration amongst all the Romanes, so that hee was the first stranger of whom (being aliue) a sta­tue was euer made in the Senate: the Romanes vsed to make a statue of the Romanes being aliue, but not to stran­gers till after their death, The age of this Bruxellus was 113. whereof 65. hee had been an inhabitant of Rome. And among other things they recite 7. notable things of his life.

1 The first, that in 60. yeeres, no mā euer saw him issue out of the wals of Rome. For in the olde time the Sa­ges were little esteemed, if in their behauiours they were not iust and vp­right.

2 The second, that in 60. yeares no man heard him speake an idle [...] Notable sentences of Bruxellus. word: For the words that are super­fluous doe greatly deface the authoritie of the person.

3 The third, that in all his time they neuer saw him lose one houre of time. For in a wise man there is no greater folly, then to see him spend a mo­ment of an houre idely.

4 The fourth, that in all his time, hee was neuer detected of any vice. And let no man thinke this to bee a small matter. For few are they of so long life, which are not noted of some infamy after their death.

The fifth, that in all the 60. years he neuer made quarrell, nor striued with any man; and this thing ought to be no lesse esteemed then the other. For truly hee that liueth a long time without offering wrong to another, may be called a monster in nature.

6 The sixt, that in 3. or 4. yeares hee neuer issued out of the temple, and in this case this philosopher shewed him selfe to be a good man. For the vertu­ous man ought not to content himselfe only to be void of vices: but he ought also to withdraw himselfe from the vicious.

[Page 16] 7 The seuenth and last, that hee spake more often with the Gods then with men.

This Philosopher now drawing neere to the houre of death, all the graue Senators came to visite him, & to thanke him for that he had liued so long amongst them in so good con­uersation, and that so willingly hee cared and watched for the wealth of Rome. And likewise all the people of Rome were right sorry for his sick­nesse, and that they should loose the company of so excellent and vertu­ous a man. The good Philosopher in the presence of them al spake these words vnto the Senate.

CHAP. VI. Of that the sage Philosopher Bruxellus spake to the Senate of Rome, at the houre of his death.

SInce you are wise (O worthy Senatours) The speech of Bruxellus at his death. mee thinketh you should not lament my death, sithens I my selfe so ioyfully doe receiue it. For wee ought not to lament the death weo take, but the wicked life wee leade. The man is very simple that dreadeth death, for feare to lose the pleasures of life. For death ought not to bee feared for losse of life, but because it is a sharpe scourge of the wicked life. I dye (noble Sena­tours) in ioy and pleasure. First, because I doe not remember that euer I did any euill in all my life, or displeasure to any of the Common-wealth. And I am cer­taine that the man which did no euill to men in his life, the Gods will doe him no harme at the houre of his death. Seconda­rily, I dye ioyfully, to see all Rome lament the losse of my life. For that man is ve­ry wicked and vnhappy whose life the people lament, and at whose death they doe reioyce. Thirdly, I dye ioyfully, one­ly to remember that the threescore yeers which I haue beene in Rome, alwayes I haue trauelled for the common wealth. For the iust Gods told mee, that there is no death with paine, but where life is without profite. Fourthly, I dye ioyful­ly, not so much for the profit I haue done to men, as for the seruice I haue done to the Gods. For regarding to how many profitable things we employ our life, we may say, wee liue onely the time which is employed to the seruice of God.

Ceasing to speake further of my person, I will (worthy Senatours) disclose vnto you a highsecret which toucheth your Common wealth, and this it is. That our Father Romulus founded Rome, Nu­ma Pompilius erected the high Capitoll, Aeneus Marcius enclosed it with wals, Brutus deliuered it from Tyrants, the good Camillus droue out the Frenchmē, Quintus Scicinnatus augmented her power: but I leaue it peopled with gods, which shall defend Rome better then walles or men. For in the end, the feare of one god is more worth the the strength of all men. When I came to Rome it was a confusion to see how it was peopled with men, and vnfurnished of Gods. For there was but fiue Gods, that is to say, Iupiter, Mars, Ianus, Berecinthia, and the Goddes Vesta. But now it is not so. For there remaineth for euery one a priuate god. Me thinketh it an vniust thing that Treasuries should bee full of gold, and the Temples voide of Gods. As there is 28000. housholds, so you may account your selues happy, that I leaue you 28000 Gods: by the ver­tue of the which I coniure you O Ro­manes, that each of you bee contented with the God of his house, and haue no care to apply to himselfe the Gods of the Common wealth. For he that empropri­eth to himselfe that which ought to be cō ­mon to al, is to be blamed of God, & hated of men. [Page 17] This shall bee therefore the order that you shall keepe and haue towards the Gods, if you wil not erre in their seruice. That is to vnderstand, that yee shall keepe the mother Berecinthia, to pacifie the ire of the Gods: yee shall keepe the Goddesse Vesta, to turne from you the wicked destinies. Yee shall keepe the God Iupiter, and shall commit vnto him the gouernment of your Commonwealth. And also yee shall keepe him for the God aboue all gods in heauen and earth. For if Iupiter did not temper the ire, which the Gods about haue against you: there should bee no memory of men heere be­neath in earth. Of other particular gods which I leaue you, vse your particular profite. But yet notwithstanding in the meane season (Romanes) take you heede to your selues, and if at any time fortune should hee contrary, let no man be so har­dy to speake euill of the God which hee hath in his house. For the Gods tell mee, that it was sufficient enough to dissem­ble with them which serue them not, and not to pardon those that offend them. And doe not deceiue your selues in saying that they are priuate Gods, and not able to help themselues. For I let you know, that there is not so little a God, but is of power suf­ficient to reuenge aniniury. O Romanes, it is reason, that all from henceforth liue ioyfully, and in peace, and furthermore, thinke your selues assured not to he ouer­come by your enemies, because now your neighbours of you, and not you of them, shall desire to borrow Gods, and because yee shall see mee no more, yee thinke I must dye, and I thinke because I dye, I shall beginne to liue. For I goe to the Gods, and leaue among you the Gods, be­cause I depart.

CHAP. VII. How the Gentiles thought that one God was not able to defend them from their enemies, and how the Romanes sent throughout all the Empire to borrow Gods when they fought against the Gothes.

IN the yeere of the foundatiō of Rome Paul. Oros De Mach. Mund. lib. 6 1164. which accor­ding to the count of the Latines, was 402. from the in­carnation (as Pau­lus Orosus in the sixt booke, De ma­china mundi sayth, and Paulus Diaco­nus in the 12. booke of the Romane Histories,) The Gothes (which as Spartian sayeth, were called other­wise Gethules, or Messagethes) were driuen out of their Country by the Huns, and came into Italy to seeke new habitations, and became natu­rall and built houses.

At this time there was an Empe­rour of Rome named Valentine, a man of small reputation and courage in warres, and endued with few good conditions, for that hee was of Arian his sect. The Kings of these Gothes were two renowmed men, whose names were Randagagismus and Ala­ricus. Of the which two, Randagagis­mus was the chiefest and most puis­sant, and he had a noble minde, and a very good wit. He led with him at the least 2000000. Gothes, the which all with him, and he with them made an oath, to shedde as much bloud of the Romanes as they could, and offer it to their Gods. For the bar­barous people had a custom, to noint the God (which was at that time in the Temple of Venus) with the bloud of their enemies, whom they had slain [Page 18] The newes of the comming of this cruel Tyrant was published through­out all Italy.

Whose determination was not onely to raze the wals of Rome downe to the earth, batter towers, dunge­ons, houses, walles, and buildings: but also he purposed to abolish, and vtterly to bring to nought the name of Rome, and likewise of the Romanes.

Of this thing all the Italians were in very great and maruellous feare and the most puissant and couragi­ous Knights and Gentlemen, agreede together presently to retire within the Walles of Rome, and determined to dye in the place to defend the li­berty thereof. Fot amongst the Ro­manes there was an ancient custome, that when they created a Knight, An ancient custome a­mong the Romanes: they made him to sweare to keepe 3. things.

1 First, he sware to spend all the dayes of his life in the wars.

2 Secondarily, hee sware that neyther for pouerty nor riches, nor for any other things, hee should euer take wages but of Rome onely.

3 Thirdly, hee sware, that hee would rather chuse to dye in liber­ty, then to liue in captiuity.

After all the Romanes (scattered abroad in Italy) were together as­sembled in Rome, they agreede to send letters by their Purseuants, not onely to their Subiects, but also to all their con­federates. The ef­fect whereof was this.

CHAP. VIII. Of a Letter sent from the Senate of Rome to all the Subiects of the Em­pire.

THe sacred Senate, and all the people of Rome, to all their faithfull and louing Subiects, and to their deare friends and confederates, wisheth health and victory against your enemies. The variety of time, the negligence of you all, and the vn­happy successe of our aduentures. haue brought vs in processe of time, that wheras Rome conquered realms, and gouerned so many strange Seignories, now at this day commeth strangers to conquere and destroy Rome; in such sort, that the barbarous people (whom we were wont to keepe for slaues) sweare to become our Lords and Masters. Wee let you know now, how all the barbarous na­tions haue conspired against Rome our mother, and they with their King haue made a vow, to offer all the Ro­manes bloud to their Gods in the Temples. And peraduenture their pride and fiercenesse beeing seene, & our innocency knowne, Fortune will dispose another thing. For it is a ge­uerous rule, That it is vnpossible for a A rule de­seruing ob­seruation. Prince to haue the victory of that warre which by malice is begunne, and by pride and fiercenesse pursued. It hath seemed good vnto vs (since their cause is vniust, and ours righteous) to endeuour our selues by all meanes how to resist this barbarous people. For oft times that which by iustice was gotten, by negligence is lost. For the remedy of this mischiefe to come the sacred Senate hath prouided these things following, and for the [Page 19] accomplishing thereof your fauour, and aide is necessary.

1 First of all, wee haue determi­ned to repayre with all diligence our ditches, walles, gates, and bulwarkes, Considera­tions resolued on b [...] the Romans for their owne good, and in these places to arme all our friends. But to accomplish that, and diuers other for the necessity of war­fare, we lacke money; for yee know well inough, That the warre cannot bee prosperous where enemies abound, and money is scarce.

2 Secondarily, wee haue com­maunded, that all those which bee sworne Knights and souldiers of Rome, repayre immediately to Rome, and therefore yee shall send vs all those which are vnder the age of 50. and aboue the age of 20. For in great warres auncient men giue counsell, and young men and lusty to execute the same are required.

3 We haue agreede and conclu­ded, that the City bee prouided of victuals, munition, and defence at the least for two yeares. Wherefore we desire yee, that yee send vs from you the tenth part of wine, the fift part of flesh, & the third part of your bread: For we haue all sworne to die, yet we meane not to dye for famine, assieged as fearefull men: but fighting in plain field, like valiant Romanes.

4 Fourthly, wee haue prouided, (since the vnknowne barbarous come to fight with vs) that you bring vs to Rome strange Gods to helpe and de­fend vs. For you know well inough, that since great Constantine, we haue been so poore of Gods, that we haue not but one God, whom the Christi­ans do honour. Therefore we desire you, that you wil succor vs with your Gods in this our extreame necessity: For amongst the Gods wee know no one alone sufficient, to defend all the Romane people from their enemies. The wals therefore being well repay­red, and all the young and warlike men in Garrison in the City, the bat­teries well furnished, and the Trea­sure house well replenished with mo­ney, and aboue all, the Temples well adorned with Gods, wee hope in our Gods to haue the victory of our ene­mies. For in fighting with men, and not against Gods, a man ought alwayes to haue hope of victory: for there are no men of such might, but by God and other me may be vanquished. Fare ye wel, &c.

After this letter was sent through all the dominion of the Romaines, not tarrying for answere of the same, they forthwith openly blasphemed the name of Christ, and set vp idols in the Temples, vsed the ceremonies of the Gentiles, and that which was worse then that, they sayde openly that Rome was neuer so oppressed with Tyrants, as it hath beene since they were Christians.

And further they sayde, if they called not againe all the Gods to Rome, the City should neuer bee in safeguard, for that they haue disho­nored and offended their Gods, and cast them out of Rome, and that those barbarous people were sent to reuēge their iniurie. But the diuine proui­dēce which giueth no place to human malice to execute his forces, before the walles were repayred, and before the messengers brought answere, and before the strange Gods could enter into Rome, Randagagismus King of the Gothes, with 2000000. of barbarous, (without the effusion of Christian bloud) suddenly in the mountains of Vesulanes, with famine, thirst, and stones which fell from heauen, lost all his Armie, not one left aliue but him­selfe, who had his head strucken off in Rome. And this thing the eternal wis­dome brought to passe, to the end the Romanes should see, that Iesus Christ the true God of the Christi­ans, had no need of strange Gods to defend his seruants.

CHAP. IX. Of the true and liuing God, and of the maruailes wrought in the olde Law, to manifest his diuine power, and of the superstition of the false Gods.

O Grosse ignorance, & vnspeakable ob­stinacy, O iudge­ments of God in­scrutable. The wilfull ignorance, and peruer­sity of the Gentiles. What thinke these Gen­tiles by the true God? They searched the false Gods to helpe them, and had a liuing God of their owne: they sought Gods full of guile and deceit, and worse then that they thought it necessary, that that God (which created all things) should be accompanied with their gods, to defend them which could make nothing. Let now all their gods come forth into the fieldes on the one side, and I will goe forth alone in godly company, that is to say with the high God on th'other part: And we will compare the deedes and proue the aydes of their false God, against and with the last worke of our true God. And they shall cleerely perceiue their falsehood and our truth. For the tongue that spea­keth of God can neuer beare with any lye, and that which speaketh of Idols, can neuer disclose any truth. If they esteeme him much for creation of the world with his might: is it any lesse to preserue and gouerne it by his wis­dome? For many things are done in a moment, for the preseruation wher­of long times is requisite, and much painefull trauaile necessary. I demand further what God of the gentiles could do that which our God hath done? that is to know, within one Arke to make quiet the Lyon with the Leoperd, the Wolse with the Lambe, the Beare with the Cow, the Of the great concorde & agreement of Noahs Arke. the Tigar with the Crocodill, the sto­ned horse with the Mare, the Dogge with the Catte, the Foxe with the Hennes, the Hounds with the Hares, and so of other beastes: whose enmi­tie is greater thone against thother, then that of man is against men. For the enmity amongst men proceedeth of malice, but that of beasts proceedeth of nature.

Also I demaund, what God (if it were not the true God so mighty) could slay and drowne (in one houre and moment) so many men, women, and beasts: so that all those which were in the world (eight onely ex­cepted) perished in the deluge of Noe. The iudgement of God by or­dinance, and their offences deserue this so maruellous a dammage. For God neuer executed any notable pu­nishment, but first it came through our wicked offences. And if this be counted for a great thing, I will that an other thing bee had in great esti­mation: which is, that if God shew­ed his rigorous iustice in this punish­ment, incontinently hee shewed his might and clemency in remedying it, in that of these eight persons (which were but few) the generation did multiply in so great a number, that they did replenish many and great Realmes: whereon a man ought to maruell, for according as Aristotle sayth, Great things are easily put to The saying of Aristotle. destruction, and brought to nought, but with great difficultie they are remedied and repaired againe.

And further I demaund, what god of the Gentiles was so puissant to do this, which the God of the Hebrewes did, in that ancient and opulent Realme of the Egyptians? That is to witte, when hee would, and when it pleased him, hee made the riuers run bloud, infected the flesh, darkned the [Page 21] ayre, dryed the seas, and slew the first begotten, obscured the Sunne, and did wonders in Canaan, and o­ther wonderfull things in the redde Sea.

Finally, hee commaunded the Sea to drowne the Prince aliue with all his Egyptians, and that he should let the Hebrewes passe by. If one of these false gods had done any one of these things, it had beene to be mar­uelled at: but the true God doing it, wee should not maruell at it. For, ac­cording to our little vnderstanding, it seemeth a great thing, but in re­spect of that the diuine power can do it is nothing. For where God putteth Weake is the arine of man, to re­sist against God. to his hand, there are no men so migh­ty no beasts so proud, nor heauen so hie, nor sea so deepe that can resist his pow­er. For as he gaue them power, so can hee take it from them at his plea­sure.

Further, what God of the Gen­tiles (although they were assembled together) could haue had the pow­er to haue destroyed one man one­ly, as the true God did, the which The migh­ty Army of Senache­rib ouer­throwne. (in the time of King Zedechias) made an hundred and fourescore thousand of the campe of the Assyrians die, the Hebrewes being a sleepe which were their mortall enemies. And truly in this case, God shewed to Princes, and great Lords, how little their money and their subtle wits preuayle them in feates of warre, when God hath de­termined another thing for their de­serts. For in the end, the first inuen­tion of warres proceedeth of mans ambition, and worldly malice, but the victory of them proceedeth of the diuine pleasure. What God of the Gentiles could haue done that which our true God did? when he brought vnder the feet of the renow­med Captaine Ioshua, two and thirty Kings and Realmes, whom he depri­ued not onely from their lands, but also bereft them of their liues, in tearing them in peeces, and diuiding The succes of Ioshua ouer Kings and King­domes. the miserable Realmes into twelue Tribes. Those Realmes (which in old time belonged vnto the Hebrews) were more then 2000. yeeres kept of them in tyranny, wherefore God would, that by the hands of Ioshua, they should bee restored.

And though God deferred it a long time, it was to giue them grie­uous torments, and not for that God had forgotten them. And al­though Princes doe forgette many wrongs and tyrannies, yet notwith­standing, riuers of bloud cease not to runne before the face of the de­uine Iustice. If all the ancient Gods had had power, would not they also haue holpen their Princes? since the gods lost no lesse in losing their tem­ples, then men lost in losing their Realmes: for it touched more the case of the Auncients, to lose one little Temple, then for men to lose a The God of Troy could not resist the Grecian. noble Realme. We see that the gods of the Troians could not resist the Greekes, but that both men and gods, gods and men came into Carthage, & from Carthage into Trinacria, and from Trinacria, into Italy, and from Italy into Laurentum, and from Laurentum into Rome. So they went a­bout flying, declaring that the gods of Troy, were no lesse conquered of the Gods of Greece, then the Dukes and Captaines of Greece, were vanqui­shers of the Captaines of Troy, the which thing is hard to them that pre­sume to be Gods: For the true God doth not onely make himselfe feared, but also beloued and feared both, That we say of the one, that same we may wel say of the other. That is to know, that all the Gods in the Realms and Tem­ples, wherin they honoured and ser­ued: but wee see the one destroyeth the other, as it is declared by the He­brewes, which was in bondage of the [Page 22] Assyrians: the Assyrians of the Per­sians, the Persians of the Macedoni­ans, the Macedonians of the Medes, the Medes of the Greekes, the Greekes of the Penians, the Penians of the Romanes, the Romanes of the Gothes, the Gothes of the Mores: So that there was no Realme nor Nation, but was conquered.

Neyther the Writers can deny but they would haue exalted theyr Gods and Ceremonies, that the Gods and their Worshippers should not haue end. But in the end, both Gods and men had all end, except the Christian Religi­on, which shall neuer haue end. For it is founded of that which hath nei­ther beginning nor ending. One of the things which comforteth my heart most in the Christian Religion, is to see, that since the time the Churches were founded, the Kinges and Princes most puissant haue been alwayes their enemies, and the most feeble and poore, alwayes greatest helpers, and defenders of the same. O glorious militant Church, which now is no other then gold amongst The dignity of the church mi­litant. the rust, a rose amongst the thorns, come amongst the chaffe, mary a­mongst the bones, Margarites a­mongest the peble-stones, a holy soule amongst the rotten flesh, a Phoenix in the Cage, a shippe roc­king in the raging Seas, which the more shee is beaten, the faster shee sayleth.

And there is no Realme so little, nor no man of so little fauour, but when other doe persecute him, hee is by his friends, parents, and defen­dors fauoured and succoured, so that many times those which thinke to destroy are destroyed, and those which seeme to take their part, were their chiefest enemies. Doth not that proceede of the great secret of God? For though God suffered the wic­ked to be wicked a while, God will not therefore suffer that one euill man procure another to doe euill.

The Palestines and those of Hie­rusalem, had not for their principall e­nemies but the Chaldeans, and the Chaldeans had for their enemies the Idumeans, the Idumeans the Assyrians, the Assyrians the Persians, the Persi­ans the Ariginians, the Ariginians, the Athenians, the Athenians had for their principall enemies the Lacedemoni­ans, The enmi­ty of nati­ons one a­gainst ano­ther. and the Lacedemonians the Sydo­nians, the Sidonians the Rhodians, and the Rhodians the Scythians, the Scythi­ans the Hunnes, the Hunnes had the Alaines, the Alaines the Sweuians, the Sweuians the Vandales, the Vandales the Valerians, the Valerians the Sar­dinians, the Sardinians the Africanes, the Africanes the Romanes, the Romans the Dacians, the Dacians the Gothes, the Gothes the Frenchmen, the French­men the Spaniards, and the Spaniards the Mores.

And of all these Realmes, the one hath persecuted the other. And not all one: but our holy mother the Church hath alwayes been oppres­sed and persecuted with those realms, and hath beene succoured of none, but of Iesu Christ onely, and he hath euer succoured and defended it well: For the things that God taketh charge of although all the world were against thē, in the end it is impossible for them to perish.

CHAP. X. How there is but one true God, and how happy these Realmes are, which haue a good Christian to their King, and how the Gentiles affirme, that good Princes (after their death) were changed into Gods, and the wicked into Diuels, which the Authour pro­ueth by sundry examples.

ALthough the com­mon opinion of the simple people was, Variety of opinions concerning the true God. that there was ma­ny gods, yet not­withstanding, al the Philosophers affir­med, that there was but one God, (who of some was named Iupiter) the which was chiefe aboue all other Gods

Others called him the first intelli­gence, for that hee had created all the World. Others called him the first cause, because hee was the be­ginner of all things. It seemeth that Aristotle vnderstood this thing, and was of this opinion, forasmuch as he sayth in his 12. booke of his Meta­physickes. All superiour and inferiour things would bee well ordered, and many things much better by the arbitrement Arist. in Metaph lib. 12. Mar. Var. in lib mist. Theol. Cic. in lib. de nat. Deo­rum. of one, then by the aduise of many. Mar­cus Varro in his booke, De Theologia mistica, and Cicero in his booke De na­tura Deorum, although these were Gentiles, and curious enough of the Temples, yet they doe mocke the Gentiles, which beleeued there were many Gods, and that Mars and Mer­cury, and likewise Iupiter, and the whole flocke of Gods (which the Gentiles set vp) were all mortall men as we are.

But because they knew not, that there were good & bad Angells, nor knew not that there was any Paradise to reward the good, nor Hell to tor­ment the euill. They held this opi­nion, that good men after their death were Gods, and euill men deuils. And not contented with these foolish abu­ses, the Deuill brought them into such an errour, that they thought it consisted in the Senates power to make some Gods, and other Deuils For when there dyed at Rome any Emperour, if he had been well affec­ted of the Senate, immediately hee was honoured for a God: and if hee dyed in displeasure of the Senate, hee was condemned for a Deuill. And to the end we doe not speake by fauour, but by writing. Herodian saith, that Faustine was the daughter of Antoni­nus Pius, and wife of Marcus Aurelius, which were Emperours, the one after the other. And truely there were few eyther of their Predecessors, or of their Successors, which were so good as they were, and in mine opinion none more better: And therefore was shee made a Goddesse, and her father a God.

An Emperour that coueteth per­petuall memory, must note 5. things Emperours made Gods or Deuils by decree of the Senate Fiue things fitting an Emperour. which he should haue in his life. That is to say, pure in life, vpright in iustice, aduenturous in feates of Armes, ex­cellent in knowledge, and welbeloued in his Prouinces: which vertues were in these two excellent Emperours. This Empresse Faustine was passing fayre; and Writers prayse her beau­ty in such sort, that they sayd it was impossible for her to bee so beautiful, but that the Gods had placed some diuine matter in her. Yet notwith­standing, this added thereunto, it is doubtfull, whether the beauty of her face was more praysed, or the disho­nesty of her life discommended. For her beauty maruelously amased those that saw her, and her dishonesty of­fended them much that knew her. [Page 24] Yet after the Emperour Marcus Au­relius had triumphed ouer the Parthi­ans, as he went visiting the Prouinces of Asia, that goodly Faustine in foure dayes dyed at the mount Taurus, (by occasion of a burning Feuer) and so annealed, was caryed to Rome.

And since shee was the daughter of so good a Father, and wife of so dear­ly Romaine [...] god­desse. beloued an Emperour, amongst the Goddesses, shee was canonized; but considering her vnconstant, or rather incontinent life, it was neuer thought that the Romaines would haue done her so much honour. Wherefore the Emperour reioyced so much, that he neuer ceased to render thankes vnto the Senate. For truely, a benefit ought to be acceptable to him that receyueth it especially, when it commeth vnlooked for.

The contrarie came to the death of Tiberius, third Emperour of Rome, which was not onely killed, & drawne through the streetes by the Romaines, but also the Priests of all the temples assembled together, and openly pray­ed vnto the gods, that they would not receyue him to them: and prayed to the Infernall Furies, that greeuouslie they would torment him, saying: It is iustly required, that the Tyrant which disprayseth the life of the good in this A worthie saying. Life, should haue no place amongst the good after his death.

Leauing the common Opinion of the rude people, which in the old time had no knowledge of the true GOD, and declaring the opinion of Aristo­tle, who called God the first cause: the opinion of the Stoyckes, which called him the first Intelligence: and the o­pinion of Cicero, who vnder the co­lour of Iupiter, putteth none other God but him: I say and confesse (ac­cording to the religion of Christian Faith) there is but one onely GOD, which is the Creatour of Heauen and Earth: whose excellency and puissant Maiestie is little to that our tongue cā speake. For our vnderstanding can not vnderstand, nor our iudgement can de­termine, neyther our memory can compre­hend, and much lesse our tongue can de­clare it.

That which Princes and all other Faithful ought to belieue of GOD, is, that they ought to know God to bee Almightie, and incomparable, a God immortall, incorruptible, immouea­ble, great, Omnipotent, a perfect and sempiternall GOD; For all mans power is nothing, in respect of his di­uine Maiestie.

I say that our LORD GOD is the onely High God, that if the creature hath any good, it is but a mean good. For a man comparing well the good which hee possesseth, to the miserie No good­nesse but proceedeth from God. and calamity which persecuteth him: without doubt, the euil which follow­eth after is greater then the good which accompanyeth him.

Also our GOD is immortall, and e­ternall, which like as he had no begin­ning, so shall hee neuer haue ending. And the contrarie is to the miserable man, which if some see him borne, o­ther see him die. For the byrth of the children, is but a memory of the graue to the aged. And GOD only is incor­ruptible, the which in his Beeing hath no other corruption, nor diminution: but all mortall men suffer corruption in their soules through Vice, and in their bodies through wormes; for in the end no mā is priuiledged, but that his body is subiect to corruption, and his soule to be saued or damned.

Also GOD is no changeling, and in this case though hee changeth his worke, yet hee changeth not his Eter­nall counsell. But in men it is all con­trarie: For they oftentimes beginne their busines with grauitie, and after­ward change their counsell at a bet­ter time, and leaue it lightly.

I haue now shewed you that God [Page 25] onely is incomprehensible, the 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 that an other in an other time is as sage and profound as he.

Also GOD onely is Omnipotent: For that he hath power not onely o­uer the liuing, but also ouer the dead: not only ouer the good, but also ouer the euil. For the man which doth not feele his mercie, to giue him glory, he will make him feele his wrath, in gi­uing him paine. Oh ye Princes of this world, truely it is both iust and neces­sarie, that you acknowledge subiecti­on vnto the Prince of Heauen and Earth, which in the end although yee be great, and thinke your selues to be All power is in the hand of of God. much worth, although that you haue much, and can do much, yet in respect of that Supreame Prince, you are no­thing worth, neither can you doe any thing. For there is no Prince in the world this day, but can doe lesse then he would, & would more thē he hath. Since all that wee haue spoken of be­fore is true, let Princes & great Lords see how consonāt it is to reason, that sith all the creatures were not created but by one: Why then doe they not honour ONE aboue all? For as a Prince will not suffer that an other be called King in his Realme, so likewise GOD will not permit that any other should be honoured in this world but he onely.

The Father did a great benefite to vs, for to create vs without the de­sire of any man: and also the Sonne to redeeme and buy vs without the help of any man: and aboue all the holie Ghost to make vs Christians without the deserts of any man. For all the good deeds and seruices which we are able to doe, are not sufficient to re­quite the least benefit that he shewed vnto vs. Princes ought greatly to e­steem such a gift, that God hath crea­ted thē men, & not beasts: and much more they should esteeme that they are made Lords and not seruants: but most of all they ought to reioyce that God hath made them Christians and not Gentils, nor Moores. For it pro­fiteth them little to haue scepters and Realms to condemne, if they shall not acknowledge the holy Church, with­out the which no man may or can bee saued.

Oh diuine Bountie! how many Paynims had bin better peraduenture then I: if thou hadst chosen them for the Church? and if thou hadst made me a Paynime, I had bene worse then they. Thou leauest them which haue serued thee, and hast chosen me a sin­ner which offend thee. Oh Lord God thou knowest what thou doest, and where thou art: but I know not what I doe, nor what I speake. For wee are bound to prayse the workes of God, & haue not licence to call them back. Those Emperours and Painim Kings which haue been good, (as there hath been manie) so much lesse they haue to answere, for that in time of charge they were not called. And likewise the contrarie to the wicked Christian Princes: the more goodnes they haue receyued without measure: so much the more torments shalbe giuē them in eternall fire. For according to the ingratitude which they haue shewed, for the benefites by them receyued in this world: so shall the bitternesse of theyr paines bee, which they shall re­ceyue in Hell.

Princes are much bound to doe wel, because they were created of God rea­sonable Wherefore Princes should obey God. men; but they are much more bound, because they be Christians, & more then others boūd, because they were made mightie, and placed in so high estate. For the greatest power is not for a Prince to haue and possesse much, but to profite much. They doe [Page 36] not require of a little and weake Tree much, but that hee beare his Fruit in due time. For a great and high tree, is bound to giue wood to heate them that be a colde, shadow to refresh the weary trauellours, & fruit to comfort the needie, & also it ought to defend it selfe from all importunate windes. For the vertuous Prince ought to bee a shadow and resting place, where the good may couer themselues beeing weary.

The Church doth moue vs to doe many things, and our conscience wil­leth vs to obserue more. But if the Princes will promise me they will doe two things onely, (that is to say) that they wilbe faithfull in the law of God, whom they honour, and that they wil not vse tyrannie against their people, whom they gouerne: From hence­forth I promise them the glory & feli­city which they desire. For that prince only dieth in safegard, which dieth in the loue of our SAVIOVR IESVS CHRIST, and hath liued in the loue of his neighbour.

Princes and great Lords which pre­sume to bee good Christians, should watche greatly that all things might be done to the Seruice of GOD, be­gunne in God, followed in God, and ended in God. And if they wil watch in this, I let them knowe, that as tou­ching the Exaltation of Faith, they should watch so much, that all should know, that for the defence of the same they are readie to dye. For if the Prince belieue that there is paine for the euill, and rewarde for the good in an other life: it is impossible but that hee amend his life, and gouerne well his Common-wealth.

Thinke this for a surety, that where the Princes feares not God, neyther themselues nor their Realms can pro­sper. For the Felicitie or miserie of Realms, proceedeth not of the paines and trauells that the Kings and peo­ple doe take: but of the merits which the Kings & Realms deserue. In great perill liueth that Realm, whose Prince is an euill Christian: Happie & sure is that cōmonwealth, wherof the Prince hath a good conscience: For the man that is of a good conscience, will not do any euil thing to the cōmonwelth.

CHAP. XI. Of sundry Gods which the ancients wor­shipped: Of the office of those Gods, how they were reuenged of them when they displeased them, and of the twen­tie elect Gods.

THough to men of cleare iudgement, the works of God are great of them­selues, without any comparison to o­thers: yet that the white may be better knowne from the blacke, I will satisfie somwhat the cu­rious reader, in reckoning vp a flocke of false Gods, that by them and theyr power, men shall see how much the Princes are bound to the true God.

The ancient Painyms had gods of diuers sortes: howbeit the chiefe of How much men are bound to the Almightie God. all were these, which they called Diis electi. They would haue said gods of heauen: which gods (as they thought) sometime descended from Heauen to earth. These gods were xx. in num­ber: as Ianus, Saturnus, Iupiter, Genius Mercurius, Apollo, Mars, Vulcanus, Nep­tunus, Sol, Orcus, Vibar, Tellus, Ceres, Iu­no, Minerna, Luna, Diana, Venus, Vesta.

These viii. last rehearsed were god­desses, and xii. of the first were gods, No man might take any of those as his owne god, but as common and in­differēt to al. Their office was to pro­fit all. I mean al of any one Realm, one Prouince singular, or one noble citie. [Page 27] And first note, they had one god, whō they called Candus, whom they honou­red much, and offred vnto him manie sacrifices, to the ende that God might giue them wise children. And this if they had demanded of the True GOD, they should haue had reason. For the impostumation of humane malice, is swelled in such wise, that that man is in great jeopardie, whome God hath not indued with wise iudgement.

They had also an other Goddesse, whom they named Lucina: to whom they did commend women, quicke, and great with Childe, to sende them safe deliuery. And without the walles of Rome, in a streete called Salaria, she had a great Church, wherein all the Romane women conceiued with childe, did sacrifice to their goddesse Lucina: and as Fronten declareth, De venera­tione Deorum: there they remayned nine dayes, and nine nightes, making their vowe.

Numa Pompilius built the church of this Goddesse, which was plucked downe by the Consull Rutilius, because a Daughter of his (great with childe) made her vow, & kept her nine vigilles, and vpon more deuotion was desirous to bee deliuered in the saide Temple. Such was her mishap, that her deliue­ric was not onely euill, but her death worse. Whervpon Rutilius in his rage, caused the tēple secretly to be burned. For we read many times, that whē the Gentiles saw they were distressed, and in great necessity, they recommended themselues to their Gods: and if they did not then succour them in their necessitie, immediately they tooke from them their sacrifice, beate downe their temples, or chaunged their Gods.

And further, the Gentiles had ano­ther God called Opis, which was called the God of the Babe-newborne: euen as Lucina was Goddesse of the Mother, which bare it.

The custome was, that during all the nine monethes that the Woman was quicke with childe, shee carryed the image of the God Opis, hanging vpon her belly, tyed to her gyrdle, or sowed to her Garments, and at the houre of her deliuerie, the Mid-wife, tooke in her handes the layde Image: and euen in the very byrth before her­selfe layde handes vpon it, shee first of all touched the Childe with the Idoll. If the childe were well borne, the pa­rents that day made great Oblations to the Idoll: but if it were euill, or dead borne, straight-wayes the Pa­rents of the Childe did beate the I­mage of the poore God Opis to pow­der, or else burned it, or drowned it in the riuer.

Also the Gentiles worshipped an other God, called Vaginatus, and vnto him they did great Sacrifice, because theyr Children should not weepe much: and therefore they carryed the image of this god Vaginatus han­ged about their neckes, for the Gen­tiles thought it an euil signe and to­ken, when the Babe wept much in his infancie, he should haue very euill for­tune in his Age.

They had also another God called God Guninus: him they honoured with Sacrifices, to the ende that hee should be their Patrone, for the safetie of theyr Children, in their cradels. And those which were poore, had the God Guninus, hanged vpon the cradels, but the Rich had very sump­tuous cradels, wherein were painted manie Gods, Gunini: Herodian, and Pulio, declareth in the life of Seuerus, how that when the Emperour Seuerus was in the warre against the Gaules, his wife (whose name was Iulia) was deli­uered of a Daughter, which was his first. And it happened that a Sister of this Iulia, named Mesa, natiue of Per­sia, and of the Cittie of Mesa, sent vn­to her Sister at Rome, a Cradell, all of an Vnicorns horne, and fine gold, and [Page 28] about the same was paynted ma­ny images of the God Cuninus. The cradle was of so great value, that ma­ny yeares after it was kept in the trea­surie of Rome. Though indeed the Ro­manes kept those things, more for the desire of memorie, then for the loue of riches.

The Romaines had likewise an o­ther god, whome they called god Ru­minus, which was as much to say, as god of sucking-babes, and to him, the Matrones of Rome offred diuers sacri­fices, to the end he would keepe their breasts frō corruption, and giue them milke enough for their little children. And all the while they gaue the child sucke, they had the image of this God about their necks, hanging downe to their breasts. And euery morning be­fore she gaue the child sucke, the mo­ther sent a dishful of milk to offer the god Ruminus: and if she happened to bee in such place where there was no Church dedicated to the god Ru­minus, then she bathed her god Rumi­nus, which she daily carryed with her, in milke.

They had also another God, whom they called god Stellinus, and him they impropered to their Children, when they began to goe. To this god the matrones offred many gifts that their children might not be lame, dwarfes, nor impotent, or decrepite, but that they might be able to goe well. For among the Romanes, those that were criples or dwarfs, were had in such cō ­tempt, that they could neyther beare office in the Senate, nor be admitted Priests in the Temples.

Hercules in his third Booke, De re­pub: Hercules de repub: saith, that Cornelia, (that wor­thy woman and Mother of the Grac­chi,) had her two first sonnes, the one Lame, and the other a Dwarfe.

Wherevpon supposing the God Stel­linus had beene wrath with her, shee built him a temple, in the twelfth re­gion, neere to the fieldes Gaditanus, a­mongst the Gardens of Detha: and this temple remained till the time of Randagagismus, who besieging Rome, destroyed the Temples, and brake vp their Gardens and buyldings round about Rome.

They had also an other God, called Adeon, and his charge was, that when the Childe could goe well, hee should goe to his mother, and make much of her. And albeit Cicero in his booke, De natura Deorum, putteth this God Cicero de natura Deorum. amongst the other Gods, yet I do not remember, that I haue euer read that this god had any temple in Rome, till the time of Mammea, mother of the Emperour Antoninus. This excellent woman being left a widowe, and with two little children, desiring that they might be wel and vertuously brought vp, and that they should increase their loue towards her, she built to the god Adeon, a sumptuous temple in the xii. region Vaticanus, neer to the Gardens of Domicilius, and hard adioyning to that also, shee erected one other edi­fice called Sacellum Mammae, where she abode solitarilie for a time. For the manner and custome at that time was, that all widowes (which would bring vp their Children in good discipline) should immediately seuer themselues farre from the dangerous pleasures of Rome.

The ancients had also an other God called Mentallis, which was in effect god of wit. That is to wit, he had au­thoritie and power to giue Children good or euill sence. And to this god the ancients did great sacrifices, espe­cially the Greekes, much more then the Romanes. For as much as Seneca saith, that he doth maruell nothing at all of that the Greekes knew: but that which made him most to maruel, was of that they knewe not, since they had the temple of the God Mentallis within their schooles. [Page 29] All the children whom they sent to learne Philosophy, were by the lawes of Athens bound to serue three yeeres in that Temple. And to omit that which Seneca spake of the Greekes, I dare boldly say and affirme (to many which at these dayes are liuing) that if it bee true, he gaue sence and vn­derstanding to men, that they would to day, rather then to morrow with­draw themselues to goe into those Temples, and there offer their vowes. For nothing in the World hapneth to men more, then the want of witte and vnderstanding how to gouerne themselues, and liue in quiet.

They had also another God Volu­nus, and a Goddesse called Voluna, these two had the charge of affiance in Wedlocke, and therefore they were two, because the one should helpe the man, and the other should helpe the woman. The manner vvas such, that during the time of their marriage, each of them vvare the I­mage of their owne God about theyr necks, & those were of gold or siluer. And after they were married, the Bridegroome gaue vnto his Spouse, the Goddesse Voluna, and the Bride vnto her husband the God Volunus. At such times as the Consuls were created at Rome, and the Kings bani­shed, and before the comming of the Emperours, a litle before the Corneli­ans moued ciuill commotions in Rome, there was one Consul amongst all these whose name was Balbus. It is sayde he was the first that builded the Temple of Volunus and Voluna. It did stand in the ninth Ward of the City, neere vnto the gate Corinthia, and was called Scripta Balbi. And nigh vnto it was another building called Theatrum Balbi. All the Con­suls, Senatours, noble and renowned Barons were married in the Temple, which Balbus built. That night that Pompey the Great married Iulius Cae­sars daughter, there were some that sayd that Pompey refused to marry her in the Temple of the Gods Volunus, and Voluna, whereupon they diuined straight that the marriage would not endure long betwixt them. As wri­teth Publius Victor in his third booke De nuptiis Antiquorum. The aunci­ent Pub. Vict. De nuptiis Antiq. Pagans honoured a God called Agrestes, as much to say, as the God of fields and fruites: to him they offe­red no sacrifice but twice in the yeare that is to say, in Seede time, and in haruest.

The Phrygians (that is the Troians and Cicilians) greatly obserued this God Agrestes, and it was for that in those two Countries, there was ga­thered such plenty of corne to make bread, that Phrygia 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 point to giue battell, make their prayers vnto God: so likewise the Auncients in the same point did kneele downe, and recom­mend themselues to God Belus.

Liuie declareth, that in all other things which were done, and wher­of the Romane Knights were accused in the battell of Cannas against Han­nibal, was for that they did not re­commend themselues at all to the God Belus, when they should giue battell, saying the Carthagians remai­ned Conquerours, because they a little before honoured the god Mars, and the Romaines were vanquished, for that they offered no Sacrifice to God Belus. When Pirrus, King of the Epirotes (that is of Albany) came into Italy, and that the Romanes were aduertised, hee brought with him many Engines, and subtill inuenti­ons for the war, they decreed to build a Tēple for god Belus within the wals [Page 30] Rome, in the ninth warde neere the gate Carmentalle, and it was named Edes Beloe, in the front whereof was a maruellous sumptuous and stately piller, wherein was grauen the order of battell.

The Gentiles had another God called the God of Victory, to whome the Romanes (more then any other Nation) did sacrifices, to the end they might obtaine victory of their enemies. Of this God Victoria, there was many magnificent Temples in Rome, but the chiefest and the greatest was adioyning to the gate Venia, in the twelfth warde, in the place called Della Victoria. It was built in the yeare of the foundation of Rome, foure hundreth, threescore and seuenteene. And it was for the occasion of the victory, that Appius Claudius, and Quintus Fabius had in Sicill, the first time the Romane people fought a­gainst the Africanes, Herones beeing King. Of this warre and victory, rose the cruell, long, and perillous warres betweene Rome and Affricke.

There was another God amongst the Gods, whom the Auncients cal­led Honorius, which had the charge that the Inne-keepers should honor and gently entertaine Pilgrimes and strangers: so that they should bee well handled through the Prouinces and Realmes whereby they passed. And there was a custome in Rome, that euer when any Romane should goe any voyage, his wife immediate­ly should goe to the Temple of God Honorius to doe her sacrifices. In the 15. yeare after that Hannibal passed into Italy, the Romanes knew by a Prophesie, that as soone as they brought the Image of the Goddesse Berecinthia (mother of all the Gods) into Rome: so soone Hannibal should retire out of Italy. And to bring this to passe, the Romanes sent their Am­bassadors into Phrygia, which is one part of Asia, to the end they should bring the Goddesse Berecinthia vnto Rome. And because their Ambassa­dours should goe well and returne safe, and that in comming and go­ing through the Realms, they should entertaine them well, and doe them honour: they built a Temple for the God Honorius within the walles of Rome, in the fourth ward, in a place which they called Forum Transitori­um.

CHAP. XII. Of other more naturall and peculiar Gods which the auncient people had.

And because it should not be too tedious a thing to name all Naturall & peculiar Gods. the gods which the Gentiles worship­ped, and semblably, in whose time and raigne they honoured the most, and what Realms were more replenished then others: And furthermore, for what causes so many Temples and buildings were ordayned and erected for them: I will make mention one­ly of these Gods which were called naturall Gods and particular Gods, and declate why the Gentiles honou­red them.

And this onely moueth mee to it, because that those which shall see this my writing, may know what a speciall grace God hath giuen to them, which are borne in the time of the Christian Law,

Know you therefore, that the God Esculanus was the God of Mines of gold and siluer. Pecunia was the god­desse of mettalles, and they prayed vnto her, to giue them treasures and riches. Fessoria was the Goddesse of [Page 31] trauellers and Pilgrimes, and they prayed to her, that shee would not suffer them to bee weary that trauel­led on foot.

Pelonia was a Goddesse, which had the charge to driue the enemies out of the land.

Esculapius was the God and pa­trone of sicke men, and if the maladie were great, they called vpon the God Apollo, which was Father to Esculapi­us. Spinensis was a God whome the Auncients prayed to keepe the corn from thistles and thornes. Rubigo, was a God which kept the vines from wormes, and the corne from Locusts. Fortuna was the Goddesse of good fortune: and to her the auncient wiues of Rome made a Temple in the time of Silla and Marius. Muta was the Goddesse to whom the Aunci­ents prayed, that shee would not suf­fer their enemies to speak, when they would speake euill of them. Genoria was a Goddesse that had the charge to chase slothfulnes from them, that recommended themselues to her, & the Greekes honoured her, especially the Philosophers, when they entred into study and Vniuersities. Stimu­la was a Goddesse which hastned thē of their businesse, to the end they should not forget any thing they had to doe. And her Image was at Rome ouer the gate of the Senate house, for she was taken for an Aduocate of the pleaders.

Murcia was a Goddesse, and an Aduocate for men and women which desired not to bee leane or weake of their bodies: and to this Goddesse, the women of Rome offered many gifts, to the end they might bee fat: For in Rome, maydens and women are forsaken because they bee leane and slender, and not for that they be foule and fat,

Busina properly was a Goddesse of the fields, and to her the Ancients offered sacrifice, because she should looke to the grasse that grew in the fieldes. And the Scithians were great worshippers of that Goddesse, because they had no houses in towns, but kept the fieldes euen with theyr flockes, which if they wanted grasse, dyed immediately, and then they were vtterly vndone.

Iugatiuus was he that was called the Cod of the high Mount, and to him the Ancients made a lodge and Altars in the toppe of the highest Mountaines, whereunto they went oftentimes to doe sacrifice, especially when it thundered and lightned.

Vallonia was the Goddesse of the valleyes, and she had the charge to bridle the waters that descended frō the mountaines, to the end they should not endamage the medowes and milles whereby they passed.

Ceres was a goddesse of all Nati­ons honoured, for that shee was a Goddesse of corne, and of other so­ueraigne seedes: And the Ancients had a custome to offer her a loafe of all the seedes and corne that they sowed. Her Lodges and Altars to doe sacrifice were in the fields, but besides those, shee had a Temple in Rome in the ninth Warde, in the fields of Mars. hard by the gardens of Lucullus, and it is sayde, that out of this Temple came first the fountaine of Scipio.

Segecia was a Goddesse that had the charge to make the seeds to grow after they were sowne. I doe not re­member I haue read that shee had any Temple in Rome.

Tutillina was a Goddesse, whose office was to entreat Iupiter not to beate downe the corne with hayle­stones when it was ready for to bee reapt. And the Auncients painted her in such sort, that it seemed Iupi­ter did cause it to raine stones, and that this Goddesse Tutillina should [Page 32] gather them all. Shee had a Temple in Rome in the tenth warde, in the Market place of Apollo, neere vnto the house of Romulus. And at euery time when it thundered, immediately the Romanes lighted a great number of Candles in the Temple to appease the goddesse that shee should keepe their corne and seed from hurt.

Flora was the mercifull goddesse of the Vines, that preserued them frō frost. And those of Capua were great worshippers of this Goddesse, for they say that they were the first that planted vines in Italy.

Matura was a Goddesse that had the charge to ripe grapes: and the Auncients vsed a custome, to offer the first grapes which were ripe, in the place where the Goddesse was. And for the more part, euery man that had Vines, made in the field a lodge and an Altar to sacrifice vnto her.

Ruana was a Goddesse and Aduo­cate for them that gathered the corn and other graines, to the end they should doe no hurt in cutting away the eare, nor should marre the straw and that in cutting, the corne should not shake from the eare. And there­fore the Auncients painted her, hol­ding in her right hand a handfull of straw, and the eares were whole.

Forculus was the God of Locke­smithes, and the Auncients sacrificed to him, because he should locke fast the dores, and should not suffer them to bee broken open, nor picked, nor adultered keyes to bee made: The Ancients painted this God, holding a chain in one hand, and two doores in the other: His Image was ouer the Gate of Trigemine, and especi­ally ouer their doores that had e­nemies.

Limentimen, was God of the hammers of the gates. I could not finde what the intention was to in­uent this God, but as I thinke (not for that I haue found it written) they prayed this God, that when there should come any enemy of theirs to the house, that hee should cause thē stumble, and fall before the doore, if perhappes by negligence it were left open.

Fortulus was the God of the gates, and the Ancients did paint him with two gates in his hands, and did sacri­fice to him, because no man should open the gates to the enemies when they slept: and to him the Romains did sacrifice in all the gates of Rome, and those which had enemies, would paint him in the gates of their house.

Cardea was a Goddesse of the bars and hinges of the gates, and the cause why the Auncients did sacrifice to her, was that no man should breake the gates, nor lift vp the hinges, and that if they went about to put to their hands, immediately the hinges should make a noyse to awake the Master of the house, that hee might heare it, and know that his enemies were at the gate.

There was another God who was called Siluanus, and was most hono­red among the Auncients, especially among all the Romanes. This God had the charge to keepe those from perill and misfortune that went for their pleasures and recreation to the Gardens, as Plinie sayth in an Epistle he wrote to Rutilius. The first that Plin. ad Rutil. built a Temple for the God Siluanus, was Mecenas, which was in the time of Augustus. And hee desired aboue all other men, to make feasts and banquets in Gardens. This Tem­ple was in the eleuenth Warde, in the field of the Goddesse Venus, neare vnto the house of Murcea, which was destroyed in the time of the Emperour Antoninus Pius, through an Earthquake, whereby many buildings and houses fell [Page 33] in Rome.

Iugatiuus was the God of marri­ages, who had charge to make the loue which begunne in youth, to en­dure till the olde age.

It was wonderful to see how the wo­men newly married went on pilgri­mage for Deuotion vnto this God, and what gifts and presents they of­fered in his Temple. Suetonius Tran­quillus sayeth, that there was a Tem­ple of this God, but I finde not in writing by whom it was built, saying that Helius Spartanus sayeth, that the Emperour Heliogabalus found much riches in the Temple of Iugatibus, the which hee tooke away to maintaine his wars.

Bacchus was the God of drunkards, and the custome in Rome was, that only mad men and fooles celebrated the feast of this God, and if there were found any of wit and vnderstan­ding (were it neuer so little) they thrust him forthwith out of the Tem­ple, and sought in his steade another drunkard. The Temple of Bacchus was in the 10. Warde, in the mea­dowes which they call Bacchanales, without the City, in the way of Salaria, by the Altars of the goddesse Februa, and it was built 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, immediately to send some sacrifice vnto her.

This Goddesse had no Temple at all, but her Image was in Pan­theon, which was a Temple, wherein all the Gods were, and in this place they sacrificed vnto her.

Pauor was the God of feare, who had the charge to take feare from the Romanes hearts, and to giue them stoute courage against their enemies.

The Temple of this God Pauor was in Rome, in the sixth Ward-, in the place of Mamuria, neare to the olde Capitoll: and euer when they had any enemies, the Romaines forth with offered in this place sacrifices, and there was in the same Temple a statue of Scipio the Affricane, all of siluer, which hee offered there, when hee triumphed ouer the Car­thagenians.

Meretrix was the Goddesse of dishonest women, and as Publius Victor sayeth, There was in Rome, forty streetes of common women, In the middest whereof the Temple of this Meretrix was.

It chanced in the time of Ancus Martius (the fourth King of the seuen Romane Kinges) that there was in Rome a Curtezan, Natiue of Lauren­to, which was so fayre, that with her body shee gained great riches, wher of shee made all the Romane people partakers. Wherefore in the me­mory of her the Romanes built there 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 themselues which were troubled with the Collycke, to the ende shee would helpe them to purge their bellies.

Quies was the Goddesse of rest, and to her the Romanes did offer great Sacrifices, because that she should giue them pleasure and rest, especially on that day, when there was any triumph or solemnitie in Rome, they gaue in this Temple many gistes, because shee should preserue the glory and ioy of the triumphes.

Numa Pompilius second King of the Romaines, built the Temple of this Goddesse, and it was with­out the City, for to note that du­ring the life of man in this world, hee could neyther haue pleasure nor rest. [Page 34] Theatrica was a Goddesse, which had the charge to keepe the Theaters and Stages, when the Romanes celebrated their Playes: and the occasion of in­uenting of this Goddesse was, be­cause when the Romaines would set foorth theyr Tragedyes, they made so solemne Theaters, that there might well stand twentie thousand men a­boue, and as manie vnderneath, for to behold the spectacle. And sometime it hapned, that for the great weight of them aboue, the wood of the Thea­ters and Stages brake, and killed all those which were vnderneath: and so after this sort all their pastime turned into sorrow.

The Romanes (which vvere proui­ded in all things) agreed to doe Sacri­fice vnto the Goddesse Theatrica: to the ende shee should preserue them, from the dangers of the Theaters, and built her a Temple in the ninth ward, in the market-place of Cornelia: neere to the House of Fabij.

Domitian the twelfth Emperour of Rome, destroyed this Temple, be­cause in his presence one of the Thea­ters brake, and killed manie people. And for that the Goddesse Theatrica had not better preserued them: hee made this Temple to be beaten down.

Peraduenture those that haue read little, shall finde these things now y­nough: but let them reade Cicero in his booke De Natura Deorum: Ihon Bocchas of the Genealogie of Gods, Cic: de na tu. Deorum. and Pulio, of the Auncients Gods: And Saint Augustine in the first, the eleuenth, and the eighteenth booke of Citie of God: and they shall finde a great number more, then is heere spoken of.

CHAP. XIII. ¶ How Tiberius the Knight was cho­sen Gouernour of the Empyre, and af­terwards created Emperour, onely for being a good Christian. And how GOD depriued Iustinian the youn­ger, both of his Empyre and Senses, for beeing an Heretique.

THe fiftie Emperour of Rome, was Tibe­rius Constantinus: who succeeded Iu­stinian the younger, which was a cruell Emperour. And Paulus Dyaconus sayeth, That hee was an enemie to the poore, a Thiefe to the Rich, a great louer of riches, and an enemie to himselfe in spending them.

For, the propertie of a couetous man, is to liue like a Beggar all the dayes of his life, and to be found rich at the houre of his death.

This Iustinian was so exceeding co­uetous, that hee commaunced strong coffers and chests of yron to be made and brought into his Pallace, to keepe in safety the euil-gotten treasures that he had robbed. And of this you ought not to maruell: for Seneca saith, That couetous Princes do not only suspect their Subiects, but also themselues.

In those daies the Church was great­ly defiled by the heresie of the Pelagi­ans, and the maintayner of that Sect, was this wicked Prince Iustinian: So that for himselfe hee procured riches, and for the Diuel he cheapned soules. For, those that are once forsaken of the hand of GOD, doe not onely be­come Couetous­nes the root of all euill. seruaunts of the Deuills, but al­so labour to bring others to Hell.

Wherefore sithence the sinnes of men are diuers, and the judgements of GOD kept secrete, and yet the liuing [Page 35] God is, so mercifull, that notwith­standing his mercy would saue the soules, he will also with iustice cha­stice the bodies. And therefore se­ing the obstinacy of this Emperour to bee such, that the longer he liued, the more hee augmented his damna­tion, the wrath of God lighted vpon him, & suddenly without any grudge The iust iudgement of God. or token of sicknesse, this Emperour Iustinian was bereued of his sences, and became a foole, and because the matter was so sodaine, it caused in Rome great feare and admiration, for that the Prince was a foole, and all the Empire chaunged. And indeed this Emperour was so strucken, that his life and folly ended both in one day. For the diseases which God sendeth to Princes, commeth not through fault of humours, but through the corruption of manners. Also there is no medicine that can re­sist it, not yet any other thing that can remedy it. The people percey­uing how the Emperour through his sinnes was (according to the diuine pleasure) become a foole, agreede (sith there was no remedie for his dis­ease) to choose some good person, to whom the charge of the publike weale might be giuen: for truely a man needeth great patience and wis­dome to gouerne an other mans, thē for that which is his own proper. The lot befell to a Knight, Tiberius so called, a man for truth, both chast, iust, profitable, sage, vertuous, har­dy, mercifull, charitable, in feates of armes aduenturous, and aboue all a good Christian.

And let not this thing bee little regarded, that the Prince be a good Christian: For there is no state so happy as that which is gouerned by a Prince of a good and faithfull conscience, and because hee wanted no vertues to adorne a Prince, hee was both feared of many, and belo­ued of all. Which thing ought not lightly to bee esteemed; for it is the chiefest thing that belongeth to Princes, that is to say, for their gen­tle conuersation to bee beloued, and for their vpright Iustice to be feared. This Emperour Iustinian had a wife, whose name was Sophia Augusta, which was beautifull and sage, and as touching her person of good re­nowne sufficient. For women must take great respect, lest they giue strā ­gers occasion to speake of them, but Good counsell for wo­men. notwithstanding all these things, this Dame was noted of couetousnesse: for shee toyled alwayes to hoarde vp money, and delighted to see and tell it, but to spend or giue it, was alwaies her greatest griefe: For couetous persons little regard to shorten their life, so that they may augment their riches.

Tiberius Constantine, as Gouernour of the Empire (seeing the Empresse Sophia Augusta rich, and desiring more the profite of the Common­wealth, then the enrichment of him­selfe or of any other) did nothing else but build Monasteries, repaire Hospitals, marry Orphanes, and re­deeme Captiues. For speaking ac­cording to the Christian lawes, be­cause Difference betweene a good Prince & a Tyrant. that a man hath more then ne­nessary, ought to bee employed to the vse of the poore, and to works of mercy.

Finally, this vertuous Prince did that which Christian Princes should doe, and not as tyrants doe, which made him of great excellency. For the property of a Tyrant is to heape great treasures of other mens goods, and afterward to spend and consume them viciously: but Tiberius found them gathered together by one, and hee dispersed them to many. Sophia Augusta, seeing Iustinian become a foole, & not knowing how to gette more money of the people, nor how [Page 36] to robbe the rich, and that Tiberius spent her riches without compassion, partly to satisfie her sorrowfull heart, and partly to see, if in time to come, shee could remedy it, called one day Tiberius a part, and spake vnto him these words in secret.

CHAP. XIIII. Of the words the Empresse Sophia spake vnto Tiberius Constantinus then being gouernour of the Empire, which onely tended to reproue him for that hee lauishly consumed the Trea­sure of the Empire gotten by her.

THou remembrest well Tiberius, that thogh The speech of Sophia vnto Tibe­rius. thou art now after Iustinian Gouernor of the Empire: yet when thou wast in Alexandrie, thou thoughtest very little to deserue it, and if thou diddest, thou thoughtest thou couldest not attaine vnto it. For thou art a wise man, and the sage man (ac­cording to the little or much which for­tune giueth him) doth not raigne or slacke alwayes the bridle of his thoughts. Those which haue a vaine hope, and thorow power only will inforce fortune to bee fauourable vnto them, shall liue alwayes a troubles me life.

For there is nothing that shortneth more the life of man then vain hope and idle thoughts. Thou beeing such a man as thou art, and so well willed and belo­ued of Iustinian my husband, art de­maunded of the Romane people, and chosen by the Senate, receyued by the Souldiers, and all the Empire reioyce at thy election.

And thou oughtest not a little to regard it. For the willes of all doe not alwayes fauour one. I let thee to vnder­stand Tiberius, that it did not displease mee thou shouldest bee Emperour of Rome, sith Iustinian was deposed, and if I had perceyued that which I doe per­ceyue, or had knowne that which I doe know, I am certaine that I had neyther sayde with it, nor against it. For wee women are of so little credite, that it pre­uayleth vs more To approue the least of that which other say, then it doth to speake very well of our selues. Sith Fortune hath brought thee to so high an estate, I beseech thee, admonish thee, & aduise thee, that thou know how to keepe and gouerne thy selfe therein. For to a­rise to honour, It sufficeth the body to sweate water, but to maintaine it, it is necessary that the heart weepe bloud.

Thou knowest right well, that to commaund more, to doe more, and to haue more then other (as touching the affayres of Princes) oftentimes is giuen more thorow worldly care, then for the desert of the person. And this God suffereth very often, to the end wee may see those discend, and fall thorow infamy, whom we saw mount and pros­per by pride. Thou art a man, and I a woman: Thou hast wisdome and know­ledge, but I haue large and long experi­ence, and if thou knowest much, I haue seene in the world enough, but in faith for that I haue said I tell thee, that men of thy sort are vndone in the Pallace of Princes, by two wayes. The one, if they thinke they deserue much, and they can doe little. For haughty minds bring al­wayes alteration in the heart, The other is, that one alone will command the Em­perour and the Empire, whereunto if a­ny man come, it is by great trauell, and hee shall sustaine it with danger, and shall possesse it but a short time. For it is impossible that to a man of much arrogan­cy, Fortune should bee too long faith­full.

Though thou be wise and sage, I [Page 37] counsell thee alwayes to profite with another mans counsell, chiefly in things con­cerning the gouernement of the estate. For to know how to obey, and to know how to commaund, differ much.

For to know how to obey, commeth by nature: but to know how to command, commeth by long experience, Take this of me for a generall rule, that whereas thou seest thy Prayer to be acceptable, ne­uer take vpon thee commaundement: for by commandement thou shalt bee feared, and by prayer thou shalt be beloued: know thou Tiberius, the things that con­tent them worst, which are in the Courts of Princes: are to doe little, to haue lit­tle, and to be little worth. For the man that is without fauour, in his heart, is halfe dead. For the contrarie, the thing which most perilleth the Fauorites of Princes, and maketh them loose theyr Friendship, is to bee of great power, and great in Authoritie, and moreouer then this, to profite more of will then know­ledge, of authoritie then of reason. For a man cannot liue long in Friendship, which doth what he will, in the commonwealth.

I haue spoken all this, to the ende thou shouldest knowe that I greatly maruell at thy prudence, and haue no lesse wonder of my patience. To see that the Treasours which Iustinian heaped together by great trauell, kept and preserued with great care, thou wastest without respect what thou doest.

Wherefore doe not maruell at this; For there is no patience can suffer to see the proper goods wasted and spent by the handes of an other, which with so great care hath bene gathered together.

I let thee to know Tiberius, that now wee haue neyther Money to keepe, nor to giue to others: which thing is very pe­rillous for the Pallaces of Princes. For the same to haue great store of Treasurs, occasioneth Princes to keep their enemies in feare.

It is necessary for Princes to be stoute and also rich, for by their stoutnes they may gouerne their owne, and by their ri­ches, they way represse theyr enemyes. It is not onely necessarie that the Prince bee not poore, but also it is requisite that his Common-wealth be rich. For where people are poore, of theyr Enemyes they are nothing regarded. And where the Common-wealth is rich, the Prince can­not be greatly poore. I will not denie but that it is well done to helpe the poore, and succour the needy: But yet I say, that no man ought to giue the Treasour vnto any one in particular, which is and hath been long kept in store, for the preseruation of all. For oftentimes the Prince which is too liberall in giuing of his owne, is afterwards (through necessitie,) com­pelled [...]o become a Tyrant, and so to take from others.

I let thee know Tyberius, that thou shalt finde few Princes, but are eyther prowd, malignant, or vicious. For of a truth, Wantonnes, Libertie, Youth, and Riches, are commonly most cruell enemyes to honestie.

Notwithstanding, I will not say that all Princes haue beene euill, but I will say (according to the old prouerbe) that there hath been too few good: And that those which of Gods mercifull gift, eyther are or will be good and vertuous, ought to be greatly honoured. For no time ought to be called happy, but that wherein vertuous Princes doe raigne.

And furthermore I say to thee Tibe­rius, if Princes become Tyrants for want of Riches, so doe they become vicious, through aboundance of Treasures: And in this case vicious Princes are chastened in the same vice. For Auarice hath such power ouer them, that it suffereth them not to taste theyr owne delight.

Againe, I let thee know Tiberius, that there are many Princes which are of good nature, & yet becom Tyrants, for nothing else but because they be oppressed with po­uertie. For truely the Noble heart resu­seth no danger, seeing himselfe assaul­ted with pouertie.

[Page 38] Therefore I demaund of thee which is better, or otherwise which of these two euils is least: that the Prince bee poore, and with that a Tyrant, or that he be rich, and therewith vicious.

In mine opinion it were much bet­ter to be rich and vicious, then a Ty­rant and poore, for in the end if he do euill by vice, hee should bee euill vnto no man but to himselfe: by riches he should profite all the people. And if he be poore and a Tyrant, hee should doe great euill to many, and by pouerty hee could profit no man. For the poore Prince cannot maintaine the rich, and much lesse suc­cour the poore, without comparison it is much more profitable to the Common­wealth, and more tollerable to men, that the Prince bee an euill man, and therewithall a good Prince: then an euil Prince, and therewithall a good man. For as Plato sayeth, The Athenians would alwayes rather seeke a profi­table then a stout Prince: and the Lacedemonians did erre, in willing rather a stoute Prince then profi­table.

Therefore see Tiberius, it is more sure and profitable for the Common wealth, that Princes haue Treasures to giue li­berally among their seruants, then that they should bee poore and enforced to oppresse the people with taxes and Subsidies. For Princes oft times through pouerty take occasion to le­uy great Subsi­dies in their realmes & seignio­ries.

CHAP. XV. The answer of Tiberius vnto the Em­presse Sophia Augusta, Wherein hee declareth that noble Princes need not boarde vp great treasures: And of the hidden treasure this good Empe­rour found by Reuelation, in the Pal­lace where he remained.

TIberius heard very patiently the admo­nition of the Em­presse, wherefore with great reuerēce hee aunswered, and with sweet and gen­tle words hee spake to her in this sort.

I haue heard and vnderstood what you Tiberius answere. haue tolde mee, most noble Princesse So­phia, and alwayes Augusta, and doe re­ceyue your, gentle admonitions, most humbly thanking you for your louing counsell, which principally you giue me in so high a stile. For oftentimes sicke men abhorre not meates, not for that the meates are not good, but because they are not well dressed. If it were Gods pleasure, I would I knew aswell how to doe these things, as you know how to speake them.

And doe not maruell, though I make hereof a doubt; for wee greatly desire to prayse vertuous workes, but to put them in practise, wee are very slow. Spea­king therefore with such reuerence, (as is due vnto so high a Lady) to euery one of these thinges which your Excellency hath tolde mee, I will aun­swere in one word. For it is reason sith you haue spoken that which you per­ceiue of my deedes, that I speake that which I gather of your wordes. You tell me that when I was in Alexandrie, I thought not to bee Gouernour of the [Page 39] Empire after Iustinian, & that I thoght not my selfe worthy to deserue it, nor yet looked to come vnto it.

To this I answere, that though by reason I gouerned my selfe at that time, yet I ought not to thinke to deserue such a dignitie, nor to come to so high an estate. For those which by vertues deserue great Dignities are but fewe: and sewer are those which attaine vnto them, though they deserue them, But if this matter be iudged according to sensualitie, I tell you truely (Dame Augusta,) that I thought not onely to deserue it, but also I thought to come vnto it. And hereof maruell not, for it is an infallible rule; Where least desert is, often-times there is most pre­sumption.

You say you esteemed mee for a wise man, and that by wisedome I could o­uer-come any difficult, or disordinate ap­petite.

To this I answere, that you knewe my wisedome, either in mine owne busines, or else in other mens affaires. If in other mens affaires, (where it did cost mee nought) I was alwayes a louer of iustice, For there is no man in the world so euill, that doth not desire (if it bee without his owne cost) to be counted liberall. But if you iudge mee (Dame Augusta,) on mine owne businesse, giue not too light credit. For I will that you know, there is no man so iust, nor of so cleare a iudge­ment, that doth not shewe himselfe fraile The frailtie of man. in matters which touch his owne interest.

You say that men which haue their thoughts high, and their Fortunes base, liue alwayes a pensiue life.

Truely it is as you say, But in mine o­pinion, as the members of the bodyes are but instruments of the minde, so is it ne­cessary for men to haue quicke and sharpe wittes, if they will not be negligent. For if Alexander, Pyrrhus, Iulius Caesar, Scipio, and Hanniball, had not beene high minded, they had neuer bene (as they were) so Famous, Noble, and stoute Prin­ces.

I let you vnderstand, most Noble Princesse, that men are not to be estee­med as lost, for hauing theyr thoughtes high, nor yet for hauing their hearts couragious, neither for being hardie and stout: but they are vndone, because they beginne things through folly, pursue them without wisedome, and atchieue them without discretion.

For, Noblemen enterprising great things, ought not to employ theyr force as their noble heart willeth, but as wise­dome and reason teacheth. You say, you maruell why I waste the Treasures with­out care, which Iustinian and you gathe­red together with great paine?

Now to this I answere, you ought not to maruell, if all the Treasours you heaped together of so long time, were spent and consumed in one day. For there is an an­cient Malediction on riches hidden, and The saying of Epime­nides. Treasours buryed, which Epimenides casteth out, saying these words: All the Treasours hoorded vp by the Coue­tous, shall bee wasted by the Prodi­gall.

You say, Through that I wast in fewe dayes, you shall haue neither to giue, to waste, nor yet to eate at the yeares ende.

To this I answere (most gracious Prin­cesse, that if you had beene as ready to re­lieue the Poore, as you and Iustinian were diligent to robbe the rich, then you should iustly haue complained, and I wor­thily might well haue had iust cause to re­pent.

Till now wee haue not seene, but that of the Rich you haue made Poore: and notwithstanding this, yet you haue not gotten enough to builde an Hospitall for the Poore. You say that Princes, to resist theyr enemyes had neede of great Treasures.

To this I answer, if Princes be proud, greedy, and of strange Realmes, ambici­ous it is most certaine, that they had need of great substances and Treasours to ac­complish and maintaine theyr disordi­nate [Page 40] appetties. For the enae of a tyran nous Princ [...]s, that he careth not whether by hooke or by crooke hee make himselfe rich in his life.

But if the Prince be or will be a man re­posed, quiet, vertuou, patient peaceable, and [...] couetous of the goods of an other man, what need hath he of great treasurs?

For to speake truly, in Princes hou­ses there is more offence in that which aduaunceth, then in that which wanteth. I will not waste many wordes in answe­ring, sith I am much more liberal of deeds then of wordes: But to conclude, that there is no Prince which in vertuous deedes wasteth so much, but if hee will, hee may spend much more. For in the [...]. ende, Princes become not poore, for spen­ding their goods and Treasours vpon ne­cessaries: but for making waste vpon things superfluous.

And take this word for all, that for this hee shall not be the poorer, but rather the richer. For most certainely, it is a gene­rall rule in Christian Religion, that God will giue more to his Seruants in one houre, then they will waste in 20. yeares: Iustinian beeing Emperour 11, yeares, who (being a Foole, and very obstinate in the heresie of the Pelagians) dyed to the great offence of the Romaine people; whose death was as much desired, as his life abhorred.

For the Tyrannous Prince, that ma­keth many weeping eyes in his life, shall cause many reioycing bearts at his death.

Iustinian being dead, Tiberius was elected Emperour, who gouerned the Empire, through so great wisedome and Iustice, that no man was able to reproue him, if the Hystories in his time, did not deceyue vs. For it sel­dome happeneth to a Prince to be as he was, vpright in Iustice, pure in life, and cleane in Conscience. For fewe are those Princes which of some vices are not noted.

Paulus Diaconus in his 18. booke of the Romaine Gests, declareth a thing both strange and maruellous, which besel vnto this Emperour at that time, and very worthie to recite at this pre­sent. And it was, that in the Cittie of Constantinople, the Romaine Empe­rours had a Pallace very sumptuous, and beseming the authoritie of the Imperiall maiestie, which was begun in the time of Constantine the Great, and afterwardes, as the succession of good and euil Emperors was, so were the Buyldings decayed or repayred.

For it is the deede of a vertuous Prince, to abolish vices of the Com­mon-wealth, and to make great and sumptuous buildings in his countrey.

This Emperour Tiberius had spent The memorable deedes of Tiberius. much of his substance and Treasour, for the redeeming of poore captiues, to build Hospitals, to erect Monaste­ries, to marry and prouide for the Or­phares, to sucour poore people, and widdowes; In this and such like, hee was so prodigall, that it came almost to passe, that hee had nothing to eate in his Pallace, And truely this was a blessed necessity. For Catholike Prin­ces ought to think that wel imployed, which in the Seruice of Christ is be­stowed. And hereof this Emperour was not ashamed, but he thought it a great honour, and that which onely grieued him was, to see the Empresse reioyce so much at his misery. For the High and Noble hearts which feele themselnes wounded, do not so much esteeme their owne payne, as they do to see their enemyes reioyce at theyr griefe. God neuer forsooke them that for his sake became poore, as ap­peareth by this.

It chanced one day that euen as the Emperor Tiberius walked in the mid­dest of his Pallace, he saw at his feete a Marble-stone, which was in forme of the Crosse of the Redeemer of the world. And because it had bin too vn­iust a thing (as hee thought,) to haue spurned it with his feet, wherewith we [Page 41] trust from our enemies to bee desen­ded: he caused the stone to bee taken vp, not thinking any thing to bee there vnder, and immediately after they found another, wherein likewise Treasure. found by Tiberius. was the forme of the Crosse, and this beeing taken vp, they found an o­ther in like manner, and when that was pluckt vp from the bottome. there was found a Treasure, which contained the summe of two milli­ons of Duckets; for the which the good Emperour Tiberius gaue vnto Almighty God most high thankes, and whereas before hee was liberall, yet afterwards hee was much more bountifull. For all those treasures hee distributed amongst the poore & needy people. Let therefore mightie Princes and great Lords, see, reade, & profite by this example, and let them thinke themselues assured, that for gi­uing A good Lesson. almes to the poore, they need not feare to become poore: for in the end the vicious man cannot call himselfe rich, nor the vertuous man cannot count him­selfe poore.

CHAP. XVI. How the Chiefetaine Narsetes ouer­came many battailes, onely for that his whole confidence was in God. And what hapned to him by the Empresse Sophia Augusta: wherein may be no­ted the vnthankefulnesse of Princes towards their seruants.

IN the yeare of the Incarnation of Christ, 528. Iusti­nian the Great, be­ing Emperour, who Paul: Dia­con: Lib: 18. de gestis Roman. was the sonne of Iu­stines sister his Pre­decessor in the Empire) the Histo­ries say, in especially Paulus Diaconus in the 18. booke De gestis Romanorum: that there was a Knight of Greece in Rome, who from his tender yeares had bene brought vp in Italie. Hee was a man of meane stature, of a cholericke complexion, and in the law of Christ very deuout: which was no small thing. For at that time not onely ma­ny knights, but almost all the Bishops of Italie were Arrians.

This Knights name was Narsetes, and because he was so valiant in arms, and so aduenturous in warres, he was chosen Chieftaine generall of the Ro­mane Empire. For the Romanes had this excellencie, that when they had a valiant and stout Captaine (although they might haue his weight of golde giuen them) they would neuer depart from his person. Hee enterprised so great things, he ouercame such migh­tie Realms, and had such notable vic­tories ouer his enemyes, that the Ro­manes said, he had in him the strength of Hercules, the hardinesse of Hector, the noblenes of Alexander, the pollicie of Pyrrhus, and the fortune of Scipio. For manie of the vaine Gentiles held opinion, that as the bodyes did distri­bute their goods in the life, so did the soules part theyr gifts, after the death.

This Narsetes was a pittifull Cap­tain, and very constant in the Faith of Christ, liberall to giue almes, effectu­ous to build newe Monasteryes, and in repairing Churches, a man very carefull. And truly it was a rare thing: For in great warres (vpon smal occasi­ons) Captains vse to beat down chur­ches: & that which was greatest of all was, that he feared God deuoutly, vi­sited The false opinion of the Gentils. the Hospitals, said his deuotions with penitent teares, and aboue all, be resorted very often to the Churches in the night.

And this excellencie was no lesse then the other. For the Captaines in such an houre are readier to kill men in their Campe, then to bewaile their sinnes in the Church.

[Page 42] Finally, hee was a Christian, and [...]. so deuoure, that God gaue him the victories more through the prayers which hee vsed, then through the weapons wherewith hee fought. For there was neuer man that saw him shed the bloud of his enemies in bat­tell before he had shed the teares of his eyes in the Temple. And to the end Christian Princes and Captaines may see how much better it is to pa­cific God by teares and prayers, then to haue their Campe full of souldi­ers and riches: of many of his doings I will declare part as heere follow­eth.

Iustinian the Emperour beeing in Alexandrie, Totila King of the Gothes, did many mischiefes, and great dam­mages throughout all Italy, so that the Romaines durst not goe by the way, nor could bee in safeguarde in their houses. For the Gothes in the The out­rages of the Gothes. day kept the wayes, and in the night robbed and spoyled all the people, wherefore Iustinian the Emperour, not knowing the matter, sent the no­ble Narsetes Captaine Generall a­gainst the Gothes, who being arriued in Italy, immediately confedered with the Lumbardes, the which at that time had their mansion in Hungarie, and sent his messengers to King Al­bonius, (at that time their King) for ayde against the Gothes and in so do­ing, hee sayde hee should see how faithfull a friend hee would be to his friends, and how cruell an enemie to his enemies.

Albonius hearing the message of Narsetes was very glad, and without delay armed a great and puissant Ar­my, which by the Adriatical sea came into Italy: so that the aunswere and the offer came both at one time with effect, and so together arriued in one day (for the succour of Narse­tes) the two Armies that is to say, that of the Romanes, and of the Lum­bardes, the which assembled all in one, and marched vnder the banner of their Captaine Narsetes. Where­fore Totila King of the Gothes beeing aduertised, (as one that had not pro­ued the happy fortune of Narsetes, nor the force of the Lumbardes) sent to offer them the battell, which was giuen in the fields of Aquileia, and it was of both parts so fierce and cruell, that infinite were they that dy­ed: but in the end Totilla King of the Gothes was ouercome, and neyther hee, nor any of his hoast escaped aliue.

The good Captaine Narsetes, af­ter the battell gaue many and noble gifts to the Lumbardes, and so with riches and victory they returned into Hungarie towards their King Albo­nius. And truly this Narsetes did as he was bound to doe, For the friend A worthy saying ap­proned by Narsetes. cannot bee recompenced by riches, when for his friend he putteth his life in ieo­pardy.

When the Lumbards were gone, Narsetes caused all the spoile of his Campe to bee deuided amongst his souldiers, and that which belonged vnto him, he gaue it wholly to the poore Monasteries: so that by this victory Narsetes got triple renown, that is to say, very bountifull, in that hee gaue to the Lumbardes, charita­ble, in that hee gaue to the poore, and valiant in that he vanquished so puis­sant enemies.

Dagobert King of France beyond the Alpes, being a couragious young Prince, and very desirous of honour, (for no other cause but to leaue of him some memory) determined him­selfe in person to passe into Italy, although hee had no iust title there­unto. For the hearts puffed vp with pride little passe though they war of an vniust quarrell. His mishap was such, that the same day he passed the riuer of Rubico, where the Romanes [Page 43] in old time limited the marches of I­taly, newes came to him that his own country was vp, and those which were there, one rebelled against the other, that which was not without the great permission of God. For it is but reason that that King should lose his own Realm by diuine iustice, which will take other mens only through mans folly. The King Dagobert assembling all the chiefest of his Realme to counsell, it was agreede and concluded by all, that hee alone in person should returne into France, and for his reputation should leaue al the Army in Italy. Whereof remay­ned captains, Buccelinus and Amingus. For itis better for a Prince to defend his Country by iustice, then to conquer ano­ther by tyranny. As this Army of Bucce­linas was great, so was he couragious and wrought mapy and great dam­mages in Italy, especially in the land of Campagnia. And worse then that, al the riches that hee had sacked, and al the captiues he had taken, hee would neyther restore, nor yet suffer them Buccelinus did many outrages in Italy. to be ransomed: but so soone as hee tooke them, he sent them vnto the King, as one that shewed himselfe more desirous to rob and spoile, then to fight and wage battell.

This Captaine Buccelinus then be­ing in Campagnia, retired into a place called Tarentum with all his army be­cause of winter.

Narsetes suddenly came vpon him, & gaue him battell, that was between them very cruell, wherein Buccelinus was vanquished, and left dead in the field amongst the other Captaines of Gaule. Which newes brought to A­mingus eares beeing the other Cap­taine of the Gaules, and seeing his companion dead, hee confedered with Auidinus Captaine of the Gothes, and they together came against the Romaines, which thing was not vn­knowne to Narsetes, to giue the battel neer to Caietto, wheras those Captains were conquered, and taken aliue. Of whom Amingus was beheaded by the commandement of Narsetes: & Aui­dinus was sent by him prisoner to the Emperour of Constantinople. The Captaine Narsetes wan another bat­tell against Syndual King of Britons, which came into Italy with a huge multitude of people, to recouer the realme of Partinopilis, which now we call Naples: for he said it appertained vnto him of right, as to one of the ly­nage of Hercules, who in ancient time was King of that Realme. This King Sindual within a time became friend vnto Narsetes, and behaued himselfe outwardly as a friend and confede­rate: but in secret conspired against the Romaines, and would haue beene King of the Romanes, and raigned a­lone in Italy, through the which there sprang betweene him and Narsetes cruell wars, wherein Fortune was a long time variable: For there is not The in­constancy of Fortune. so aduenturous a Captaine, to whom in long warres Fortune is alwayes pros­perous.

Finally, the King Sinduall and Narsetes agreed to hazard their men, and also their liues in one day vnto the disctetion of Fortune, so that both the armies ioined together, and fought betweene Verona and Terento, where King Sindual was conquered, and taken aliue, and the same day with out any delay was hanged openly, And because that Narsetes was not acustomed to vse such cruelty against those that were ouercome, and espe­cially against Kinges and worthy Knights, he commanded his title to bee set on the gibbet, whereon the King hanged, which said this:

A simple cord here stopt King Synduals breath,
King Syn­duals Epi­taph.
By faultlesse doome of hie Narsetes hest,
Not that hee sought by warlike deedes his death,
But that in peace he did a traytorrest.

[Page 44] Such and many other battels and victories had this aduenturous and good Captaine, not onely in the borders of Italy, but also in Asia, where for many yeares hee had the gouernment of the Country. And as hee was a good Christian, so Al­mighty God in all his affayres did prosper him.

After all these warres past, Iusti­nian the yonger sent him to the king­dome of Constantinople to bee chiefe Gouernour of all those Prouinces, & although hee did well in warlike af­fayres: yet hee did much better in the administration of the common­wealth: For men that are accustomed to trauell in wars, haue a good learning how to gouerne the people in peace. For this occasion (amongst all mortall men) Narsetes was praysed and estee­med, that is, for his valiantnesse in the battells which hee ouercame, for his riches through the spoyles that hee tooke, and for the iustice he ministred to all men where he ruled. Narsetes because hee was a Grecian borne, was enuied of the Romanes, & chiefly, because hee dayly encreased both his honour and riches. For tru­ly, vertue, honour and riches in a man are but a brand to light enuie to all the world. And this was the oc­casion.

One day there came many noble Romaines to the Emperour Iustini­an, and to the Empresse Sophia Augu­sta, Ennie a foe to all ver­tue. to complaine of Narsetes, and of his behauiour and gouerning, and sayde these wordes vnto him. wee let you know, most noble Prince, and So­ueraigne Lady, that wee had rather (of the two) to serue the Gothes, then to obey the Greekes: and wee speake this, because that the Eunuch commaunded vs more to his owne seruice, then hee doth to that of yours, and the worst is, that you know it not, and if you know it, at the least you doe not remedie it, Chuse therefore one of these two things, whe­ther you wil deliuer vs from the gouern­ment of the Greeke, or suffer that wee put Rome and our selues into the hands of the Gothes: For it is lesse griefe for the Romaines to be subiect to a puissant King, then to an effeminate Eunuch and tyrant.

Narsetes being present, hearing Narsetes reply. those quarrels (as they say) said thus: O noble Prince, if I haue committed any euill, it is vnpossible for mee to finde one that will doe mee good: but if I haue done well, no man shall be able to do me wrong.

The Empresse Sophia of long time before had hated Narsetes: som sayde it was because he was an Eu­nuch, other thinke it was because he was rich, and some other iudge, be­cause hee was in greater authority in the Empire then shee. Wherefore perceyuing shee had good occasion and opportunity for the same, shee spake a word much to his reproach: which was this. Sith thou art an Eu­nuch, Narsetes, and not a man, it is not fitte for thee to haue a mans office, ther­fore The seuere sentence of the Em­presse. I commaund thee to worke with my handmaides, and there thou shalt serue to spin and weaue clothes.

Narsetes tooke this word hea­uily, and truely it was with great spight spoken. Wherefore he stout­ly and couragiously spake vnto the Empresse Sophia these wordes, and sayde: I had rather most exccellent Princesse, thou hadst chastised me as a Noble Dame, then to haue reproued mee with a word, as a simple woman: but since it is so that you haue liberty and authority to commaund mee, know you also that I haue the selfe same to obey you, and therefore I take my leaue, and now I goe to weaue my webbe, which perhappes your selfe whilest you liue, shal neuer vntwine.

Narsetes immediately went his way, and came into Itaty, vnto the [Page 45] City of Naples, (chiefe and head of Campagnia) and from thence he dis­patched his Ambassadours immedi­ately to the King of Hungarie, where the Lumbards at that time had theyr mantion place, counselling them to forsake that land, so euil tilled, so bar­ren, cold and little, and that they should come and enhabite Italy, which was a plaine Country, fertile and ample, temperate and very rich, and that now or neuer they should conquer it. And Narsetes therewith not contented, (but to prouoke his friends the more, and make them the more couetous) sent them part of euery good thing that was in Ita­ly, that is to say, light horses, rich armour, sweet, pleasant and daintie fruites, fine mettals, and may kindes of ointments very odoriserous, silkes, and Marchandises of many and di­uers sorts.

The Ambassadors arriued in Pan­nony, which now is called Hungarie, were honourably receyued, and the Lumbardes seeing that there were such, and so many goodly things in Italy, determined to leaue Pannonia, and goe spoyle and conquer Italy, al­though it belonged to Rome, and were at that season friends with the Romanes: yet notwithstanding they had little respect to this. And here­at no man ought to maruell, for in that place there is neuer perfect friendship, where he that commandeth is constray­ned to demaund helpe of others.

The Lumbards determined for to passe into Italy, and at that time there was seene of the Italians visibly in the ayre sundry Armies of fire, that one cruellie killed the other. Which thing greatly feared the hearts of the people. For by this they knew that Strange sights seene in the ayre. within a short space much of theyr bloud & of their enemies also should be shed: for it is an olde ancient cu­stome, that when any great matter doth chance to any Realme, first the Planets and Elements do declare the same by secret tokens: the ingratitude of the Emperour Iustinian against Narsetes his Captaine, and the euill The ingra­titude of the Empe­rour against Narsetes. words which Sophia spake vnto him, were the occasion that the Lumhards inuaded and destroied all Italy, which thing valiant Princes ought well to note, to keepe themselues from ingra­titude towards their seruants, who hath done them great seruice. For it is a generall rule, That the ingrati­tude of a great benefite maketh the ser­uants despayre of recempence, or of a faithfull jeruant, maketh him become a A good ob­seruation. cruell and mortall enemie. And let not Princes trust men, because they bee natiue of their realms, brought vp & nourished in their Pallaces, and al­wayes haue been faithfull in their ser­uices, that therefore they will not of good subiects be turned to euill, nor yet of faithfull become disloyall. For such imagination is vaine. For the Prince that in his doings is vnthank­full, cannot keepe nor retaine any honest man long in his seruice. One thing the noble Iustintan did with Narsetes, whereof all noble and sage Princes ought to beware, that is to know, hee did not onely giue eare vnto his ene­mies, and beleeued them: but also be­fore them he did dishonour him, and shame him to his power, which thing made him vtterly to despayre. For there is nothing that spiteth a man more then to haue before his ene­mies any iniury or dishonour done vnto him of his superiour.

The Empresse Sophia therefore de­serued great reproach for speaking such dishonest words to Narsetes, to send him to thread the needles in that occupation where the damsels wrought. For it is the duety of a Noble Princesse to mitigate the yre of Princes when they are angry, and not to prouoke thē further to anger. [Page 46] Narsetes then alwayes doubting the Empresse Sophia, neuer after returned into Naples, where shee was, but ra­ther came from Naples to Rome, a yeare before the Lambards came in­to Italy, where hee receyued all the Sacraments, and like a deuout Chri­stian hee dyed.

His body was carried to Alexan­dria [...]. in a cossin of siluer, all set with precious stones, and there was buri­ed. And a man cannot tell whether the displeasure were greater that all Asia had not to see Narsetes aliue, or the pleasure that Sophia had to see him dead. For the vnpatient heart, es­pecially of a woman, hath no rest, vntill shee see her enemie dead.

CHAP. XVII. Of a Letter the Emperour Marcus Au­relius sent to the King of Sicilie, in which he recordeth the trauels they endured together in their youth, and reproueth him of his small reuerence towards the Temples.

MArcus Aurelius sole Emperour of Rome Marcus. Au­relius speech to Gorbon. borne in Mount Celio, called the old Tribune, wisheth health and long life to thee Gorbin, Lord and King of Sicilie. As it is the custome of the Romane Emperours, the first yeare of my raigne I wrote generally to all the Isle: the second yeare I wrote generally vnto thy Court and Pallace, and at this pre­sent I write more particularlie to thy person. And although that Princes haue great Realmes, yet they ought not therefore to cease to communi­cate with their olde friendes. Since I tooke my penne to write vnto thee, I stayed my hand a great while from writing, and it was not for that I was slothfull, but because I was ashamed to see all Rome offended with thee: I let thee to know, most excellent Prince, that in this I say, I am thy true friend; for in my hart I feele thy trouble, and so sayd Euripides, That which with the heart is loued, with the heart 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 thereby we shall see what wee were then, and what we are now: for no man doth so much reioyce of his prosperity present, as hee which calleth to mind his miseries past.

Thou shalt call to mind, most ex­cellent Prince, that wee two toge­ther did learne to reade in Capua, and after we studyed a little in Tarentum: and from thence wee went to Rhodes, where I reade Rhethorike, and thou heardest Philosophy. And after­wardes in the end of ten yeares, wee went to the wars of Pannonia, where I gaue my selfe to musicke, for the affe­ctions of young men are so variable, that dayly they would know strange Realmes and change offices.

And in all those iournies with the force of youth, the sweete company, with the pleasant communication of Sciences, and with a vaine hope wee did dissemble our extreame pouerty which was so great, that many times and often we desired not that which many had, but that little which to few abounded.

Doest thou remember, that when Afflictions incident to all men. wee sayled by the gulfe Arpin, to goe into Hellespont, a long and tempe­stuous torment came vpon vs, where­in we were taken of a Pirate, and for our ransome hee made vs row about nine moneths in a Galley, whereas I cannot tell which was greater, eyther [Page 47] the want of bread, or the aboun­dance of stripes which wee alwayes endured? Hast thou forgotten also that in the City of Rhodes, when wee were besieged of Bruerdus, puissant King of Epirotes, for the space of four­teene monethes, wee were ten with­out eating flesh, saue onely two cats, the one which wee stole, and the o­ther which wee bought? remember that thou and I (beeing in Tarent) were desired of our Host to go to the feast of the great Goddesse Dtana, into the which Temple none could enter that day, but those which were new apparrelled. And to say the truth, we determined not to goe thi­ther, thou because thy garments were torne, and I because my shoes were broken, and that both the times wee were sicke in Capua, they neuer cured vs by diet; for our diseases ne­uer proceeded of excesse but of ex­treame hunger. And oftentimes Re­tropus the Physition, for his pleasure spake to vs, in the Vniuersity & sayd: Alas children, you dye not through sur­fetting and much eating. And truely hee sayde truth, for the Country was so deare, and our mony so scarce, that The mise­ries of Mar­cus Aureli­us. wee did neuer eate vntill the time we could endure no longer for famine. Doest thou not remember the great famin that was in Capua, for the which cause wee were in the war of Alexan­dria? wherein my flesh did tremble, remembring the great perils which wee passed in the gulfe of Theberinth. What snowes at winter, what ex­treame heate all Summer, what gene­rall famine in the fields, what outra­gious pestilence amongst the people? and worst of all, what persecution of strangers, and what euill will we had of ours? remember also that in the ci­ty of Naples, when wee made our prayer, the Prophetesse Flauia, shee tolde vs what should become of vs, after vvee left our Studies. Shee tolde mee that I should bee an Emperour, and sayde that thou shouldest be a King.

To the which answere wee gaue such credite: that wee tooke it not onely for a mocke, but also for a manifest iniury. And now I do not maruell, in that then we both mar­uelled wonderfull much. For en­uious fortune practised her power more in plucking downe the rich, then in setting vp the poore. Beholde (excellent Princes) the great power of the Goddesse, the wheele of for­tune, and the variety of times: who would haue thought when I had my hands all rough and scuruy with rowing in the Galley, that betweene those hands the Scepter of the Ro­mane Empire should haue been put? Who vvould haue thought, when I was so sicke for lacke of meate, that I should euer haue surfetted by too much eating? Who vvould haue thought when I could not bee satis­fied vvith cattes flesh, that I should haue then glutted with too much dainty meates? Who vvould haue thought at that time, when I left go­ing into the Temple, because my shooes were broken, that another time should come when I should ride triumphing in Chariots, and vpon the shoulders of other men? who would haue thought that that which with my eares I heard of the Prophetes in Campagnia, I should see heere with my eyes in Rome. O how many did hope (at the time we were in Asia) to be gouernours of Rome, & Lords of Sicille, which not onely 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 honour spun and wouen, then their estate with the webbe of their life in one moment is [Page 48] broken. If at that time one had de­maunded the Tirant Laodicius (aspi­ring to the Kingdome of Sicille) and Ruphus Caluus who looked to be Em­perour of Rome, what they thought of themselues: assuredly, they would haue sworne their hope to haue been as certaine, as ours was doubtfull. For it is naturall to proud men, to de­light themselues, and to set their whole mind vpon vaine deuises. It is a strange thing and worthy of me­mory, that they hauing the honour in their eyes fayled of it, and wee not thinking thereof in our hearts should obtaine it.

But herein fortune shewed her might, that shee prouided hope for those which looked for least: and despayre for others that hoped for most, vvhich thing grieued them at the very heart. For no patience can endure to see a man obtaine that without trauell, which hee could ne­uer compasse by much labour. I can­not tell if I should say, like a simple Romane, That those things consist in for­tune: or if I should say, like a good Philosopher, That all the Gods doe or­daine them: For in the end, no For­tune nor chaunce can doe any thing without the Gods assent.

Let the proud and enuious tra­uell asmuch as they will, and the am­bitious take as much care as they can: All is worth nothing without the helpe of God. I say and affirme, that little auayleth humane diligence to attaine to great estates, if the Gods bee theyr ene­mies. Suppose that euill Fortune doe ordaine it, or that the God and Gods doe suffer it, I see those which haue their thoughts high, oftentimes are but of base estate: and so in fine, to come to mischiefe or extream po­uerty, & those that haue their thoghts low, are humble of heart, 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, finde themselues slaues to all men.

The condition of honour is such, as I neuer read the like: and therfore such as haue to doe with her, ought to take good heed: For her condi­tions are such, shee enquireth for him whom she neuer saw, and she runneth after him that flyeth from her, she honoureth him that esteemeth her not, and she demaundeth him which willeth her not, she giueth to him that requireth her not, and she trusteth him whom she knoweth not.

Finally, Honour hath this custome, to forsake him that esteemeth her: & to remaine with him which little re­gardeth her. The curious Trauellers aske not what place this, or that is, but doe demand what way they must take to leade them to the place they goe. I meane the Princes and No­ble men ought not directly to cast their eyes vpon honour: but in the way of vertue, which bringeth them to honour. For dayly wee see many remaine defamed, onely for seeking honour: and others also exalted and esteemed for flying from her.

O miserable World, thou know­est I know thee well, and that which I The fickle estate or the worlde. know of thee is, That thou art a Sepul­chre of the dead, a prison of the liuing, a shoppe of vices, a Hangman of vertues, obliuion of antiquity, an enemy of things present, a pittefall to the rich, and a burden to the poore, a house of Pilgrimes, and a denne of theeues,

Finally O World, Thou art a slaun­derer of the good, a rauenour of the wic­ked, and a deceyuer and abuser of all, and in thee O world, to speake the trueth, It is almost impossible to liue contented, and much lesse to liue in honour.

For if thou wilt giue honour to the good, they thinke themselues disho­noured, and esteeme thy honour as a thing of mockerie. And if perchance [Page 49] they bee euill and light, thou sufferest them to come often to honour by way of mockery, meaning infamy & dishonour vnto them.

O immortall Gods, I am often­times troubled in my thought, whose case I should more lament, eyther the euill man aduanced without desert, or the good man ouerthrowne without cause. And truely in this case, the pitifull man will haue compassion on them both. For if the euill liue, hee is sure to fall, and if the good fal, wee doubt whether euer hee shall rise againe. If all falles were alike all would bee healed and cured him one salue: but some fall on then feet, some on their sides, others stumble, and fall not, and other fall downe right, but some do giue them a hand. I meane some there are which fall from their estate, and lose no more but their substance: others fall, and for very sorrow lose not onely theyr goods, but their liues withall. Other there are who fall, who neyther lose their liues nor goods, but their honour onely. So according to the discreti­on of Fortune, the more they haue, the more still he taketh from thee, & I greatly muse why the Gods doe ne­uer remedy it: for when Fortune once beginneth to ouerthrow a poor man, shee doth not onely take all that hee hath from him, but all those which may and will succour him. So that the poore man is bound more to lament for another mans euil, then for his owne proper. There is a great difference betweene the mishappe of the good, and aduentures of the Difference betweene the good & the euill. euill. For of the ill we cannot say, that he discendeth, but that he falleth, and of the good, we may onely say, that he discendeth and falleth not. For in the end, true honour doth not con­sist in the perfection and dignity that a man hath, but in the good life that hee leadeth, It is a misery for to see the vaine men of this world, when they goe about to get any thing, and to compasse any great matter of importance, to marke their earely ri­sing in a morning, their late going to bed at night, and the looke which they cast vpon other men, to note how importunate they are to some, and how troublesome they are to others, and afterward (notwithstan­ding their long sure and great paine) an other man which [...]ittle thought thereof, commeth to that honour, reioysing and without trauell, which he before by so great pairs, and with so great expences of money hath sought: so that in seeking honour by trauell, he commeth to infamy with shame. For I my selfe haue seen sun­dry things lost by negligence, and many moe by too much diligence.

CHAP. XVIII. The Emperour proceedeth in his letter, to admonish Princes to bee fearefull of their Gods, and of the sentence which the Senate gaue vpon this King, for pulling downe the Church.

AL these things (most excellent Prince) I haue tolde thee, and for none other cause but to aggra­uate this case, and to shew the perill thereof. For the good Phisitian (to take away the bitternesse of the pille) ministreth some sweete sugar to de­light the Patient withall. The 20. day of the moneth of Ianuary (here before the Senate) was presented a long and large information of thee, and it was sent by the Consull, which went to visite that Isle of Cicilla, which as thou knowest is an old order of Rome, from [Page 50] three moneths to three moneths, to visite all the Land and Countrey sub­iect to the same. For those Princes are vniust, which haue more care to take vp their Rentes, then diligence to knowe if theyr people bee well ordered by Iustice. Of the information taken of thee and thy person (if my memorie deceyue me not) this was the effect: That thou art temperate in eating, moderate in ex­pences: pittifull to Widdowes, Father to Orphanes gentle to those that serue thee, patient with those that offend thee, dili­gent to keepe and maintaine peace, and faithfull, to obserue league, and thou art accused onely to bee negligent in the ser­uice of God.

By one little Gate left open, often­times a great Citie besieged is lost: by one onely treason, the infinite ser­uices past are not esteemed. I meane (most excellent Prince) that it little preuayleth to thinke much of world­ly matters, and to forget all diuine ser­uices. For the good Prince ought first to shut the gate against vices, that they enter not into his subiects, before he doth fortifie the walles against his enemies.

Let euery man bee as hee will, and say what hee list, I for my part, thinke it sure, That the man which is The d [...]ty of a good Prince. not a studious seruer of the Gods, all his vertues shall be turned into vices, ànd e­steemed as slaunders.

For it it is a generall rule in high Philosophie, That a worke is not called vertuous, because I worke it onely, but it is vertuous, because it is acceptable to the Gods,

Oh excellent Prince, doest not thou know that there is no man so wise, nei­ther so sage, but erreth more through ignorance, then he doth good by wis­dome? And dost not thou know that there is no man so iust, but wanteth much to execute true iustice? And fi­nally (I say,) that there is no vertue so vertuous, but it wanteth more then it hath, to be perfite. Wherfore all our Iustice ought to be made perfit to the diuine Iustice: and the vertue which we lacke, ought to be supplyed vnder the great perfection, wherewith the Gods abound.

And therefore amongst vs Romains we haue this law, (which is the chiefe of all the Philosophers) That here a­mongst mortall men, nor of mortall men, nor with mortall men, any thing is perfite, vnlesse it bee by the Gods confirmed.

Since men are feeble and frayle, it can not bee chosen but they should commit many frailtyes. And in such case the sage Princes ought & should beare with all the fraylties that men commit: Those excepted which are not iniurious to the Gods, whom (if it were possible,) vnwares ought to be punished. For the Prince should not be called a Prince, but a Tyrant, that is desirous to reuenge his owne iniurie, and in chastening those which are a­gainst the Gods, sheweth himselfe ne­gligent.

Let them thinke what they list, and The diffe­rence be­tweene a good prince and a Ty­rant. complaine what they will, that Prince which will enlarge his dominions, and giue occasion that the seruice of God be diminished: such a man we wil not call a king that gouerneth, but a tirant:

If wee call him a Tyrant that spoy­leth the people, sleeth the men, perse­cuteth the innocent, dishonoureth Virgines, and robbeth Realmes.

Tell mee (most excellent Prince,) What lacketh hee of a Tyrant, that plucketh downe Churches, and little esteemeth the Gods: There is no to­ken more manifest, that the Prince is a Tyrant, then when hee taketh vpon him any thing which is distastfull, or any way contrarie to the will of the Gods. For he hath but small regard towardes men, that so little feare the Gods.

Lycurgus that most famous King of the Lacedemonians, saith in one [Page 51] of his ancient lawes these words. Wee ordaine and commaund that no Lacede­monian presume to receyue mercy or fa­uour of the Prince, which will not enforce himselfe to serue the Gods. For he is not onely euill, but of all other most wicked. O excellent King, O glori­ous World, O fortunate Realme, wherein those Ancients would their Prince should bee so iust, that the gifts were not esteemed, vnlesse their liues were honest: for they thought that of no value which by the handes of euil men was giuē. Thou hast done one thing very dishonest (most noble Prince) the which to write vnto thee, I am ashamed, which is, for to en­large thy new Palace, thou hast pluc­ked down an old Temple, the which thing thou shouldest neyther haue done, nor yet haue thought: for in the end, though the stones of the Temple be of small importance, yet the Gods to whom they were dedi­cated were of much value. Pardon me (excellent Prince) though I et thee vnderstand that this fact hath beene done in such sort, that thereby I was amased, and all Rome also of­fended, the sacred Senate thou hast greatly vexed, and further, all iudge thee a dissolute man, and all men procure that thou mayst be extream­ly punished, and hereof maruell not: For in Rome they beleeue, that the Prince which dareth plucke downe Hee that violateth the Temple feareth not God. Temples, doth little feare the Gods. For that thou art a noble Prince, and an olde friend of mine, I haue tra­uelled to bring thee in fauour with the Senate, and because thou hast no means to excuse thy errour commit­ted, they doe not determine to for­giue thee this fault, before they see in thee a token of amendment. And of truth me thinketh they haue rea­son: For there is nothing that trou­bleth poore men more, then to see that they, and not the rich for theyr offences are chastised and punished: That which the sacred Senate hath ordayned is, that forthwith thou be­gin to build the Temple a new, and that it should be more large, hie, beu­tifull, and richer then euer it was. So that thou take as much of thy Pal­lace to enlarge the Temple, as thou tookest of the Temple to beautifie thy Pallace. After thou hast perfor­med this, though now thou thinke thy selfe halfe dishonoured, thou wilt then thinke 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 beleeue well it will be great cost and charges vnto thee before thou hast finished the Temple: Wherefore I send thee 40. thousand sexterces to helpe thy buil­ding, & to the end it should be more secret, I send thee them by my Secre­tary Panuntius, to whom, in all, and for all, thou shalt giue credite. I send thee likewise a coller of gold, which one brought me from the riuer of Nyle, and because it was too narrow for mee, I suppose it will be fit for thee, one hath brought me moyles out of Spaine, whereof I send thee two. Pa­nuntius my Secretary bringeth with him a very good Moyle, the which hee esteemeth much: so that there is no man that can eyther buy her, or borrow her. I delight in her so much that I desire thou cause her eyther to be bought or stollen, and sent vnto mee here in Rome,

My wife Faustine saluteth thee, & to the excellent Queene thy Wife: of her part and mine, as much as is pos­sible, do our commendations, & these Popingeyes, Faustine presenteth vnto her. Marcus the Romane Empe­rour writeth to thee with his owne hand.

CHAP. XIX. How the Gentiles honoured these which were deuout in the seruice of the Gods.

THe ancient Romane Historiographers agree, that at the beginning there were seuen Kinges, which gouerned Rome for the space of 24. yeares. The second whereof was named Pompilius, who amongst all the other was most highly estee­med, for none other cause, but for that hee was a great worshipper of the Gods, and a sumptuous builder of the Temples. For the Romane Princes were as much beloued for seruing the Gods, as they were honoured for vanquishing their enemies. This mā was of such sort, that he allowed Rome wholy for the Gods, & made a house for himselfe without the City. For it was an ancient Law in Rome that no An ancient [...]. man should bee so bolde to dwell in any house consecrated for the gods.

The fift King of the Romanes was Tarquinius Priscus. And as Tarquini­us Superbus was vicious and abhorred of the people, so was this vertuous, and welbeloued of the Gods, & was greatly praysed in all his doings, be­cause hee feared God, and continu­ally visited the Temples, and not contented with those which were fi­nished, but built also in the High Ca­pitoll the sacred Temple of Iupiter: For no Prince could build any house in Rome for himselfe, vnlesse first hee made a Temple for the Gods of the Common-wealth.

This Temple was had in so great reuerence, that as the Romanes hono­red Iupiter for the God aboue all o­ther Gods, so was that Temple estee­med aboue all other Temples. In the warres betweene the [...]alisques, & the Carpenates, two Romane Captaines were vanquished, or the which. the one named [...] dyed: whereup­on rose such a great [...] among thē, that many flying [...] the warres, came backe againe to Rome. For the victorious hath alwayes this Priui­ledge, That though they bee fewe, yet they are alwayes feared of them that be ouercome.

This occasion m [...]ued the Romanes to chuse new Captaines, and truely they did like wise men. For often­times it ha [...]neth by [...] the Cap­taines of the warres, fortune likewise chaungeth her doings. And the Captaine that was elected for the wars, was Marcus Purius Camillus, The vow of Marcus Camillus. who though he were stout and har­dy, yet before he went to the wars, he offered great sacrifices to the Gods, and made a vow that if hee returned to Rome victorious, hee would build a solemne Temple. For it was the custome in Rome, that immediately when the Romane Captaine would enterprise to doe any notable thing, he should make a vow to build Tem­ples. Now when Camillus returned afterwards victorious, hee did not onely build a Temple, but also furni­shed it with all manner of implements thereunto belonging, which he got by spoyle, and vanquishing his ene­mies. And sith he was for this repre­hended of some, saying that the Ro­mane Captaines should offer theyr hearts to the Gods, and diuide the Treasures among the Souldiers: hee answered these words. I like a man did aske the Gods but one triumph: and they like Gods did giue mee many: Therefore considering this, it is but iust, s [...]th I was [...] in promising, that I should be large in perso [...]ing For euen as I did thanke them for. [Page 57] that they gaue me double, in respect of that I demaunded: so likewise shall they esteeme that which I doe giue, in respect of that which I promised. At that time when the cruell war was betwixt Rome, and the City of Neye, the Romanes kept it besieged 5. yeares together, and in the end by policie tooke it. For it chaunceth sundrie times in warre, that that City in short time by policie is won, which by great strength a long time hath been defended.

Marcus Furius, Dictator of Rome, and at that time Captaine, comman­ded a Proclamation to be had throgh his Host, that incontinently after the City was taken, none should be so hardy as to kill any of the Citi­zens, but those which were found armed. Which thing the enemies vnderstanding, vnarmed themselues, and so escaped.

And truly this example was wor­thy of nothing: For as the Captaines ought to shew themselues fierce and cru­ell The duetie of euery good Cap­taine. at the beginning: so after the victo­rie had of their enemies, they should shew themselues meeke and pittifull.

This Dictator Camillus, for an other thing hee did, was much com­mended aboue the residue. That is to say, hee did not onely not con­sent to robbe the Temples. nor dis­honour the Gods; but hee himselfe with great reuerence tooke the sa­cred vessels of the Temples, and the Gods which were therein, (especial­ly the Goddesse Iuno) and brought them all to Rome. For amongst the Auncients there was a Law, that the Gods of them which were vanqui­shed, should not come by lot to the Captaines being Conquerours: ther­fore hee made in the Mount Auenti­no a sumptuous Temple, wherein hee placed all the Gods together, with all the holy Reliques which hee wanne. For the greater Triumph the Romans had ouer their enemies, so much the better they handled the Gods of the people vanquished. Also you ought to know, that the Romaines after ma­ny victories, determined to make a crowne of golde very great & rich, and to offer it to the God Apollo: but sith the common Treasure was poor, (because there was but little siluer, and lesse golde to make that crowne) The Romane Matrons defaced theyr Iewels and ouches of golde and sil­uer, to make the Crowne there withall. For in Rome there neuer wanted money (if it were demanded) for the seruice of Gods to repayre Temples, or to redeeme Captiues. The Senate esteemed the well wil­ling hearts of these women in such sort, that they graunted them three things: that is say, To weare on their heades Garlands of flowers, to goe in Chariots to the common places, and to goe The re­ward of well doing. openly to the feasts of the Gods. For the auncient Romanes were so honest, that they neuer ware gold on theyr heades, neyther went they at any time to the feasts vncouered.

A man ought not to maruell that the Romanes granted such priuiledges vnto the ancient Matrones of Rome: For they vsed neuer to bee obliuious of any benefite receyued, but rather gentle, with thanks and rewards to re­compence the same.

An other notable thing chanced in Rome, which was, that the Ro­manes sent two Tribunes, the which were called Caulius and Sergius, in­to the Isle of Delphos with greate presents to offer vnto the God A­pollo. For as Titus Liuius sayeth, Rome yeerely sent a present vnto the God Apollo, and Apollo gaue vnto the Romanes counsell. And as the Tri­bunes went out of the way, they fell into the hands of pirates and rouers on the sea, which tooke them with their treasures, and brought [Page 54] them to the Cittie of Liparie. But the citizens vnderstanding that those pre­sents The [...] into the hands of Pylates. were consecrated to the God A­pollo, did not onely deliuer them all their Treasure againe: but also gaue them much more, & guides therewith to conduct them safely, (both going and comming) from all peril and dan­ger.

The Romaines beeing aduertised of theyr genltenesse, by the messengers, which were come safe and aliue, did so much reioyce, that they ordayned in Rome, that the Nobles of Liparie should bee made Senatours of Rome, and all the others should be confede­rates and of aliance vnto them. And they caused further that two priests of Liparie should alwayes remaine in the Temple of Iupiter, which priuiledge was neuer granted to any other stran­gers but to them onely. For the Ro­manes had so great zeale, and loue to their Gods, that in the seruices of the temples, they trusted none, but those The great zeale of the Romains. which were natiue & ancient of Rome, and also were both wise and vertuous.

When Quintus Fabius and Publius Decius were in the warres against the Samnites and Tuscanes, and likewise a­gainst the Vmbres, manie maruellous and terrible signes were seene in Rome, which things did not only feare those that sawe them, but also those which heard of them. Vpon which occasi­on the Romaines and the Romane Ma­trones (both night and day,) offered great sacrifices to the gods. For they sayd, if we can pacifie the wrath of the Gods in Rome, we shall neuer need to feare our enemies in the field.

The thing was this, that as the Ro­mane Matrons went visiting the temples, to appease the ire of the Gods, many senators wiues came to the temple of chastitie, to offer sacrifice. For in the time of the puissant power of the Romanes, the Women did sacri­fice in the temples of the Gods.

At that time Virginea, the daughter of Aureus Virgineus, the Consul Plebei­an, the which was forbidden to doe sa­crifice, for that shee was none of the Senators wiues, but a Plebeian; as The diffe­rence of women in Rome. much to say, as a Crafts-woman, and no Gentlemans-Daughter borne. For the Noblewomen were had in so great veneration, and so highly estee­med, that all the other seemed (in res­pect of them) but hand-maydes and slaues.

The noble Romane Virginea, seeing her to be so repulsed and disdained of the other matrones, made of her own house a temple, to the Goddesse of Chastitie, and with much deuotion and reuerence honoured her. The which thing being published abroade throughout Rome, manie other wo­men came thither, to doe Sacrifice likewise. For Fortune is so variable, that oftentimes those which of pride haue forbidden vs theyr houses, come after by humilitie, to doe vs seruice 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 Romane) and after her death caused her Image and statue to be made and set vp in the high Capi­toll: and about this Image were in­grauen certain Greeke characters, the effect whereof was this.

PATRICE the great this Image doth present,
That in her life, did giue with minde deuout
The Gods her house, & therefore to them went
When liuely breath, by death was chased out.

Of all these Hystories aboue-na­med, Titus Liui­us, lib: 2. 5. and 9. Titus Liuius maketh mention, in his first Decade: the second, fifth, and ninth book, and though he decla­reth them more at large, yet this shall suffice for my purpose, I haue sought amongst the Gentiles these fewe Ex­amples, to reprooue Christian Prin­ces; Onely to the ende they might see [Page 55] how studious and seruent our Fathers were in the seruice of their Idols, & con­trariwise how cold and negligent we are to honour and serue our true and liuing God.

It is a shame to tell how the anci­ent Romanes with all their hearts, did serue the Gods without any vnder­standing, and how those which are Difference betweene the true God and the false. Christians (for the most part) serue the true God, not in truth, but with hypocrisie and dissimulation. For the children of this World will take no paines, but for to prouoke the plea­sures of the body.

Many wondred for what occasion God did so much for them, and they did nothing for God? To this may bee answered, that if they had known one true God, all the sacrifices they had done to their other Gods, they would haue done to him onely, and as God is iust, so hee rewarded them in their temporall prosperities, Not for that they did well but for that they desired to doe well. For in our diuine Law, God doth not regard what wee are, but what wee desire to hee.

Christian Princes maruell much what the occasiō should be, that they are not so fortunate as the Gentiles were. To this may bee aunswered, that eyther they bee good or euill. If they bee good, truly God should do them wrong, if for the payment of their faithfull seruices, hee should re­compence them with these worldly vanities: For without doubt, one onely louing countenance of God in the world to come, is more worth then all the temporall goods of this world present. But if these such great Lords bee euill in their persons, am­bitions in gouerning their Domini­ons, not pittifull to widdowes and father lesse, not fearefull of God, nor of his threatnings, and moreouer, neuer to haue mind to serue him, but onely when they see themselues in some great ieopardy, in such case God will not heare them, and much lesse fauour them. For without doubt The seruice is more acceptable, which of free will proceedeth, then that which of necessity is offered.

CHAP. XX. For fiue causes Princes ought to be bet­ter Christians then their Subiects.

IN mine opinion, Princes ought, and are bound to bee vertuous for fiue causes. I say ver­tuous, Princes ought to excell their Subiects. in that they should loue, & fear God: for hee onely may bee called vertuous, which in the Catholike Faith of the Church, and in the feare of God hath alwayes remayned con­stant. First Princes should feare, loue, serue, and loue one only God whom they worship, for that they acknow­ledge him onely, and none other to bee the head both of heauen & earth. For in the end, there is nothing so puissant but it is subiect to the di­uine power.

And truely that Prince is in great perill of damnation of his soule, if in his gouernement he hath not alwayes before his eyes the feare and loue of the supreame Prince, to whom wee must render of all our doings an ac­count.

For the Prince hath great occasi­on to bee vicious, thinking that for the vice hee shall not be chastised. I haue read in diuers and sundry wri­tings, and I neuer found one ancient Prince to bee contented with one onely God, but that they had and ser­ued many Gods. Iulius Caesar carri­edfiue [Page 56] Gods painted in a Table, and Scipio the great carried seuen purtrai­ed in mettall.

And furthermore, they were not contented to haue many: but yet in sacrifices and seruices, they offered vnto them all. The Christian Prin­ces which keepe and haue but one very true and omnipotent God, are so vnthankefull, that they thinke it much to serue and giue acceptable seruice vnto him. And though per­aduenture some say, 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 trauell and paine: but to serue our God, it is both ioy and felicity. For in seruing those, it is costly, and with­out profite: and in seruing God great What plea­sure it is to serue the li­uing God. profite ensueth. For those Gods re­quire great and rich sacrifices, and our God demaundeth nothing but pure and cleane hearts.

Secondarily, Princes should be better christians then others, because they haue more to loose then al: And hee that hath more to lose then any other, ought aboue all other to serue God: For euen as hee alone can giue him, so likewise hee alone, and none other can take from him. And if a Subiect take any thing from his neighbour, the Prince whome hee serueth, maketh him render it again: but if the Prince bee iniuried with a­ny other Tyrant, hee hath none to complaine vnto, nor to demaunde helpe of, but onely of his mercifull God: For in the end, one that is of power cannot bee hurt, but by an o­ther which is likewise mighty. Let Princes behold how the man that will make any great assault, first hee commeth running a farre of as fast as he can. I meane, that the Prince which will haue God mercifull vnto him, ought to bee content with his onely God. For he in vaine deman­deth helpe of him, to whom before he neuer did seruice.

Thirdly, Princes ought to be bet­ter Christians then others, and this shall bee seene by that they succour What is re­quired in a good Prince the poore, prouide for those that are vnprouided, and visite the Temples, Hospitals and Churches, and endea­nour themselues to heare the Diuine Seruice, and for all these things they shall not onely receiue rewards, but also they shall receyue honour. For through their good example, others will doe the same. Princes not fea­ring God; nor his commandements, cause their Realmes and Subiects to fall into great misery: for if fountains bee infected, it is vnpossible for the streames (that issue thereof to bee pure, We see by experience that a Bridle mastereth a horse and a sterne ruleth a shippe. I weane, that a Prince (good or bad) will leade after him all the whole Realme. And if he honor God, all the people do likewise, if hee serue God, the people also serue him, if he prayse God, the Subiects also prayse him, & if he blaspheme God, they likewise will doe the same. For it is vnpossible that a Tree shoulde bring forth other leaus or fruits, then those which are agreeable to the hu­mour that are in the roots. Princes a­boue all other Creatures haue this preheminence, that if they bee good christians, they shall not only receiue merite, for their own works, but also Like Prince like people. for all those which others shall doe, because they are occasion that the people worke well. And for the con­trary, they shall not only be punished for the euill which they shall do, but also for the euill which by occasion of their euill examples others shal com­mit. O Princes that now liue, how do I wish that ye should speake with some one of those Princes which now are dead, especially with those that are condemned to eternal flames, thē yee [Page 57] should see that the greatest torments which they suffer, are not for the euils that they did commit, but for the euils which through their occa­sion were done: for oftentimes Prin­ces and Prelates sinne more, because they dissembled with others, then for that they do commit themselues. O How cir­cumspect Princes ought to be. how circumspect ought Princes and great Lords to be in that they speake, and how diligently ought they to ex­amine that they doe: for they serue not God onely for themselues, but they serue him also generally for their subiects.

And contrariwise Princes are not onely punished for their owne offen­ces, but also for the sinnes of theyr people: for the shepheard ought grieuously to bee punished, when by negligence the rauening Wolfe de­uoureth the innocent Lambe.

Fourthly, Princes ought to bee better Christians then others because that to God onely they must render account of their estates; for as much God onely is iust. as we are sure that God, to whom we must render account is iust, so much the more we should trauell to bee in his fauour, because whether hee find or not find in our life any fault, yet for loue and pitty sake hee may cor­rect vs.

Men one with another make theyr accounts in this life, because they are men, and in the end count they well or euill, all passeth amongst men: be­cause they are men: but what shall the vnhappy Princes doe, which shall render no account but to God one­ly, who will not bee deceiued with words, corrupted with gifts, feared with threatnings, nor answered with excuses.

Princes haue their Realms full of cruell Iudges, to punish the frailetic of man: they haue their courts full of Aduocates to plead against them that haue offended: they haue their Pallaces [...] and Promo­ters, that note the offences of other men: They haue through all theyr Prouince, Auditours, that ouersee the accounts of their routs, and be­sides all this, they haue no remem­brance of the day so strict, wherein they must render an account of their wicked life.

Me thinkes (since all that which Princes receyue commeth from the hands of God) that the greatest part of the time which they spend, should bee in the seruice of God, and al their What ver­tue [...] to bee in a good prince trade in God, and they ought to render no account of their life but vnto God: then sith they are Gods in authority which they haue ouer temporall things they ought to shew themselues to resemble God more then others by vertues, For that Prince is more to be magnified which reformeth two vices among his peo­ple, then hee which conquereth ten Realmes of his enemies. But we wil desire them from henceforth, They presume not any more to bee Gods on the earth, but that they endeuour them­selues to bee good Christians in the Commonwealth: For all the wealth of a Prince is, That hee bee stout with stran­gers, and louing to his owne Sub­iects.

Fiftly, Princes ought to bee bet­ter Christians then others, For, the prosperity or aduersity that chanceth vnto them, commeth directly from the hands of God onely, and none other: I haue seene sundry times princes, which haue put their whole trust and confidence in other Princes, to be on a sodaine discomfited: 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 soonest discomforteth him. I meane, that the consederates [Page] [Page 58] and friends of Princes, might helpe and succour them, but God will not suffer them to be holpen nor succou­red, to the ende they should see their remedy proceedeth not by mans di­ligence, but by diuine prouidence. A Prince that hath a Realme, doth not suffer any thing to bee done therein without his aduice: therefore since God is of no lesse power in Heauen, then Princes are on the earth: it is reason that nothing bee done with­out his consent, since he taketh ac­count God the beginner & ender of all things. of all mens deedes, and as hee is the end of all things, so in him, and by him all things haue their begin­ning.

O Princes, If you knew how small a thing it is to bee hated of men, and how great a comfort to be beloued of GOD, I sweare, that you would not speake one word (althogh it were in iest) vnto men, neyther would you cease, night nor day, to commend your selues vnto God: for God is more mercifull to succour vs, then wee are diligent for to call vpon him.

For in conclusion, the fauour which men can giue you, other men can take from you: but the fauour that God will giue you, no man can resist it. All those that possesse much God the giuer of all things. should vse the company of them which can doe much: and if it bee so, I let you Princes know, that all men cannot thinke so much together as God is able to doe alone: For the crye of a Lyon is more fearefull then the howling of a Wolfe. I confesse, that Princes and great Lords may sometimes gaine, and winne of them selues: but I aske them whose fauour they haue neede of to preserue and keepe them: we see oftentimes that in a short space many come to great authority, the which neyther mans wisedome sufficeth to gouerne, nor yet mans force to keepe. For the authority which the Romanes in sixe hundred yeares gained, fighting a­gainst the Gothes, in the space of three yeares they lost. Wee see dai­ly by experience, that a man for the gouernment of his owne house one­ly, needeth the counsell of his friends and neighbours: and doe Princes and great Lords thinke by their own heades onely, to rule and gouerne many realmes and dominions.

CHAP. XXI. What the Philosopher Bias was: of his constancy when hee lost all his goods, and of the ten lawes hee gaue, wor­thy to bee had in memory.

AMong all nations, & sorts of men, which auaunt themselues to haue had with them sage men, the Grecians were the chiefest, which had and thought it necessary to haue, not onely wise men to reade in theyr schooles: but also they chose them to bee Princes in their dominions. For as Plato sayeth, Those which go­uerned in those dates were Philosophers or else they sayde, and did like Philoso­hers.

And Laertius writeth in his second booke, De antiquitatibus Graecorum Laert. de antiq. Graec. That the Grecians auaunted them­selues much in this, that they had of all Estates persons most notable, that is to say, Seuen women very sage, seuen Queenes very honest, seuen Kings very vertuous, seuen Captaines very hardy, seuen Cities very notable, se­uen buildings very sumptuous, and se­uen Philosophers, very well Learned, which Philosophers, were these that follow.

[Page 60] The first was Tales Milesius, that inuented the Carde to sayle by.

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

The third was Chilo, who was in the Orient for Ambassadour of the Athenians.

The fourth was Pittacus Quinti­lenus, who was not onely a Philoso­pher, but also Captaine of the Miti­lenes.

The fifth was Cleobolus, that discen­ded from the ancient lynage of Her­cules.

The sixt was Periander, that long time gouerned the realme of Corinth.

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

Therefore as touching Bias, you must vnderstand, that when Romulus raigned at Rome, and Ezechias in Iu­dea, there was great warres in Grecia betweene the Metinences, and the Prieneans: and of these Prieneans, Bi­as the Philosopher was Prince and The wis­dome of Bias the Philosopher Captaine, who because hee was sage, read in the Vniuersity, and for that hee was hardy, was Chiefetain in the warre: and because hee was wise, he was made a Prince, and gouerned the Common-wealth. And of this no man ought to maruell: for in those daies the Philosopher that had know­ledge but in one thing, was little e­steemed in the Common-wealth. Af­ter many contentions had betweene the Metinenses and Prienenses, a cruel battell was fought, whereof the Philo­sopher Bias was Captaine, and had the victory, and it was the first battell that euer any Philosopher gaue in Greece. For the which victory Greece was proud to see their Philosophers so aduenturous in wars, and hardy of their hands, as they were profound in their doctrine, and eloquent in their tongues.

And by chance one brought him a number of women, and maides to sell, or if hee listed to vse them o­therwise at his pleasure: but this good Philosopher, did not defile them nor sell them, but caused them to bee ap­parrelled, and safely to bee conducted to their owne natiue Countries. And let not this liberty that he did, be had in litle estimation to deliuer the cap­tiues, and not to defloure the virgins. For many times it chaunceth, that those which are ouercome with the weapons of the Conquerours, are conquered with the delights of them that are ouercome. This deede a­mongst the Greekes was so highly commended, and likewise of their enemies so praysed, that immediat­ly the Metinences sent Ambassadors to demaund peace of the Prie­nenses.

And they concluded together a perpetuall peace vpon condition, that they should make for Bias an Bias the oc­casion of peace. immortall Statue, sith by his hands, and also by his vertues, hee was the occasion of the peace, and end­ing of the wars betweene them. And truely they had reason, for hee de­serueth more prayse which winneth the hearts of the enemies in his tents by good example: then hee which getteth the victory in the field by shedding of bloud.

The hearts of men are noble, and wee see dayly, That oftentimes one shal sooner ouercome many by good, then ma­ny ouercome one by euill: And also they say that the Emperour Seuerus spake these words. By goodnesse the least slaue in Rome shall leade mee tyed with a hayre whether hee will: but by e­uill the most puissant man in the world cannot moue mee out of Italy For my heart had rather bee seruant to the good, then Lord to the euill.

Valerius Maximus declareth, that when the City of Priene was taken by enemies, and put to sacke the wife of Bias was slaine, his children ta­ken [Page 60] prisoners his goods robbed, the City beaten downe, and his house set on fire, but Bias escaped safe, and went to Athens.

In this pittifull case the good Philosopher Bias was no whit the sadder, but rather sang as he went by the way, and when hee perceyued that men maruelled at his mirth, hee spake vnto them these words. Those which speake of mee for wanting my Ci­ty, my wife, and my children, and loo­sing all that I had, truely such know not what Fortune meaneth, nor vnderstand what Philosophie is.

The losse of children and tempo­rall goods, cannot bee called losse, if the life bee saued, and the renowne remaine vndefiled. Whether this sentēce be true or no, let vs profound­ly consider, if the iust God suffer that this City should come into the hands of the cruell Tyrants, then this proui­sion is iust: For, There is nothing more conformable vnto Iustice, then that those which receiue not the Doctrine of the Sages, should suffer the crueltite of the Tirants.

Also though my enemies haue killed my wife, yet I am sure it was not without the determination of the Gods, who af­ter they had created her body, immediately appointed the end of her life.

Therfore why shuld I bewayle her death, since the Gods haue lent her life, vntill this day? The great estimation that we haue of this life, causeth that death see­meth vnto vs sodayne, and that the life vnwares with death is ouertaken: but these are words of the children of vani­tie, for that by the will of the Gods, death visiteth vs, and against the willes of men, life for saketh vs. Also my Children bee vertuous Philosophers, and albeit they be now in the hands of tirants, we ought not therefore to call them captiues, for a man may not call him a captiue which is laden with yrons, but him which is ouerwhel­med with vices. And although the fire haue burnt my house, yet I know not why I ought to be sad: for of truth it was now olde, and the winde did blowe downe, he tiles, the wormes did waste the wood, and the waters that ranne downe perished the walles, and it was olde and like to fall, and perchaunce would haue done grea­ter displeasure. For most commonly enuie, malice, and old houses suddenly with­out any warning or knocking at the dore, assaulteth men▪ Finally, there came the fire which quited mee of many troubles: First, of the trouble that I should haue had in repayring [...]: Secondarily, it sa­ued mee money in plucking it downe. Thirdly, it saued me and mune heyres frō much cost and many daungers. For of­entimes that which a man consumeth in repayring an old house, would with ad­uantage buy him a new. Also those which say that for the taking away of my goods, I lacke the goods of Fortune; such haue no reason so thinke or say: for fortune neuer giueth temporall goods for a pro­per thing, but to those whom shee list, & when shee will dispose them: therefore when Fortune seeth that those më whom shee hath appointed as her distributers, do hoarde vp the same to them, and to theyr heyres: then shee taketh it from them, to giue it to another. Therfore by reason I should not complaine that I haue lost a­ny thing: for Fortune recommendeth vn­to any other the temporall goods: but I carrie patience 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 fifth booke of the sayings of the Gretians: That this Byas determined to goe to the Playes of the Mount Olympus, where­vnto Laert de antiq. Graec. resorted people of all Nations: and he shewed himselfe in this place of so high an vnderstanding, that hee was counted supreame and chiefe of all Phylosophers, and wonne the name of a true Phylosopher.

Other Philosophers then being in [Page 61] the same Playes (called Olymp calles,) asked him many questions, of diuerse and sundry matters: where of I will make mention here onely of some of the chiefest.

The Questions demaunded of the Phylosopher Byas.

THE first Question was this: Tell mee who is the vnhappiest Certaine questions resolued by Byas. man in the Worlde? Byas answered; Hee is most vnhap­pie, that is not patient in aduersitie. For, men are not killed with the aduersities they haue, but with the im­patience which they suffer.

The second was, What is most har­dest and most troublesome to iudge: He aunswered. There is nothing more dif­ficult, then to iudge a contention betwixt two Friends. For to iudge between two enemyes: the one remaineth a Friende: but to iudge betweene two Friendes, the one is made an enemie.

The third was, What is most hardest to measure? Wherevnto Byas answe­red; There is nothing that needeth more circumspections, then the measuring of Time: For the Time should bee measu­red so iustly, that no Time should want to doe well, nor any time should abound to doe euill.

The fourth was: What thing is that, which needeth no excuse in the accom­plishment thereof? Byas answered, The thing that is promised, must of necessitie be performed. For otherwise, hee that doth loose the credite of his word, should lose more then he that should lose the promise to him made.

The fifth was, What thing that is, wherein the men (as well good as euill) should take care? Then Byas answe­red: Men ought not in any thing to take so great care, as in seeking counsell, and counsellours: For the prosperous Times cannot bee maintained, nor the multitude of enemyes resisted, if it be not by wise men, and graue counsells.

The sixt was, What thing that is wherein men are praised to be negligent? and that is, in choosing of Friendes. Hee answered. In one thing onely men haue licence to be negligent.

Slowly ought thy Friends to bee chosen, and they neuer after for any thing ought to be forsaken.

The seuenth was, What is that which the afflicted man doth most desire? Byas answered, It is the chaunce of Fortune: and the thing which the prosperous man doth most abhorre, is, to thinke that For­tune is somutable. For the vnfortunate man hopeth for euery chaunge of Fortune to be made better, and the wealthy man feareth through euery change to be depri­ued of his bouse.

These were the Questions which the Philosophers demaunded of Byas, in the Playes of the Mount Olympus, in the 60. Olympiade.

The Phylosopher Byas liued about 95. yeares, and as he drewe neere his death, the Prienenses (shewing them­selues to be maruellous sorrowfull for the losse of such a famous man) desi­red him earnestly to ordayne some lawes, whereby they might know how to choose Captaines, or some Prince, which after him might guide and go­uerne the Realme.

The Phylosopher Byas (vnderstan­ding their honest and iust requests, he (with his best counsell and aduise­ment) gaue them certaine wholsome Lawes, in fewe wordes, which fol­lowe.

And of these Lawes the diuine Pla­to maketh mention in his Booke De Legibus, and likewise Aristotle, in the booke of Oecenomices.

The Lawes which BIAS gvue to the Prienenses.

WEe ordayne and command, that no Laws made by Byas. man bee chosen to bee Prince among the people, vnlesse hee bee (at least) forty yeares of age. For gouernours ought to be of such age, that neyther youth nor small ex­perience should cause them to erre in their affayres, nor weakenesse tho­row ouermuch age should hinder them from taking paines.

Wee ordayne and commaund, that none bee chosen amongst the Prienenses Gouernour, if hee bee not well learned in the Greeke Letters: For there is no greater plague in the publike weale, then for him to lacke wisedome which gouerneth the same.

Wee ordayne and commaund that there bee none amongst the Prienenses chosen Gouernour, vn­lesse hee hath beene brought vp in the warres ten yeares at the least: for hee alone doth know how precious a thing peace is, which by experience hath felt the extreame miseries of warre.

Wee ordayne and commaund, that if any haue beene noted to bee cruell, that hee bee not chosen for Gouernour of the people; for that man which is cruell, is likely to be a Tyrant.

Wee ordaine and commaund, that if the Gouernor of the Prienen­ses bee so hardy, or dare presume to breake the auncient lawes of the people, that in such case hee be de­priued from the office of the Gouer­nour, and likewise exiled from the people: For there is nothing that destroyeth sooner a publike-Weale, then to ordaine new and fond lawes, to breake the good auncient Cu­stomes.

Wee ordaine and commaund that the Gouernour of the Prienen­ses doe worship and honour the Gods, and that hee bee a louer of the sacred Temples. For otherwise hee that honoureth not God, will neuer minister equall iustice vnto men.

Wee ordaine and command that the Prince of Prienenses bee conten­ted with the warres which his Aun­cesters left him, and that he doe not forget newe matters to inuade a­ny other strange Countries: and if perchance he would, that no man in this case bee bound neyther with mo­ney, nor in person to follow or serue him. For the God Apollo told mee, that that man which wil take another mans goods from him by force, shall loose his owne Iustice.

Wee ordaine and command that the Gouernour of the Prienenses go to pray and worship the Gods twice in the weeke, and likewise to visite them in the Temples, and if hee doe the contrary, he shall not onely bee depriued of the gouernement, but also after his death he shall not bee buried. For the Prince that honoreth not God in time of his life, deserueth not his bones should bee honoured with sepnlture after his death.

CHAP, XXII. How God from the beginning punished men by his iustice, and especially those Princes that despise his Church, and how all wicked Chri­stians are Parishioners of Hell.

WHen the Eternall Creatour, (who measureth all the things by his Om­nipotency, and weigheth them by God the Creator of all things. his effectuall wise­dome) created all things aswell ce­lestiall as terrestriall, visible as inui­sible, corporate as incorporate, not onely promised to the good which serued him, but also threatned the e­uil with plagues which offended him: For the iustice and mercy of GOD, goe alwayes together, to the intent the one should encourage the good, and the other threaten the euill.

This thing seemeth to bee true: for that wee haue but one GOD, which hath created but one World, wherein hee made but one Garden, in the which Garden there was but one Fountaine, and neere to that Fountaine he appointed onely one man, one woman, and one Serpent: neere vnto which was also one tree only forbidden, which is a thing mar­uellous to speake, and no lesse feare­full to see, how God did put into the terrestriall Paradise (the same day that the creation of the World was finished) both a sword and a gybet. The gybet was the tree forbidden, whereof they did eate: Wherefore our Fathers were condemned. And the sword was the penishment, wher­with wee all (as miserable children) at this day are beheaded: for truely they did eate the bitternesse of theyr fault: and we doe feele the griefe of their paine. I meane to shew how our God by his power doth rayse vp that which is beaten downe, how with his wisedome he guideth those which are blind, how by his will hee dissem­bleth with the euill doers; neyther wil I tell how hee through his clemency pardoneth the offences, and through his light lightneth the darkenesse, nor how through his righteousnesse, hee amendeth that which is broken, and through his liberality payeth more then wee deserue.

But I will here declare at large, how our omnipotent God through his iustice chastiseth those which walke not in his pathes. O Lord God how sure may thy faithfull seruants Rewards [...] to the [...] the wicked be, for their small seruices to receyue great rewards: and contrary, the e­uill ought alwayes to liue in as great feare, lest for their hainous offences thou shouldest giue them cruell pu­nishments: for though God of his bounty will not leaue any seruice vn­rewarded, nor of his iustice will omit any euill vnpunished: yet for all that wee ought to know, that aboue all, and more then all, hee will rigorou­sly chastice those, which maliciously despise the Catholike faith. For Christ thinketh himselfe as much in­iured of those which persecute his Church, as of those that layd handes on his person, to put him to death.

We reade that in times past, God shewed sundry grieuous and cruell punishments, to diuers high Lords and Princes, besides other famous & renowned men. But rigour had ne­uer such power in his hand, as it had against those which honored that in­famed Idoll, and violated the sacred Temples.

For to God this is the most hay­nous offence, to forsake the holy Ca­tholike faith in his life, and to despaire [Page 64] in his mercy, at the houre of his death.

Would to God wee had so much grace to acknowledge our offences, as God hath reason to punish our sins.

For if it were so, then wee would a­mend The merci­full goodnes of God. in time to come, and God would graunt vs a general pardon for all that is past. I see one thing wherin (as I thinke) I am not deceiued, which is this: that the fraylties and miseryes which we cōmit, wee thinke them na­turall, and in the satisfaction and a­mendment of the same, wee say they are strange. so that we admit the fault, and condemne the paine which there­by we doe deserue. The secret iudge­ments of God doe suffer it, and our offences do deserue it: I doe not de­nie, but that the euill may holde and possesse this life at their pleasure: but I sweare vnto them, when they shall least thinke of it, they shall lose theyr life, to their great displeasure: for the pleasures of this life, are so vnconstant, that wee scarce beginne to taste them, when they fade out of our sight.

It is a rule infallible, which both of the good and euill hath bin proued: that all naturallie desire, rather to a­bound then to want: & all that which greatly is desired with great diligence is searched, and through great trauell is obtained: and that thing which by trauell is attained, with loue is posses­sed, & that which by loue is possessed, with much sorrow is lost, bewailed, & lamented. For in the end wee cannot deny, but that the watry eies do mani­festly shew the sorrowfull harts. To the fine wits and stout harts, this is a con­tinuall torment and endles paine, and a worme that alway gnaweth: to call to minde that he must lose the ioyfull life, which he so entirely loued: & tast the fearfull death, which so greatly he abhorred. Therfore to proue this mat­ter which I haue spoken of before, it is but reason that Princes knowe (if they doe not know) that men as the diuine Prouidence exalteth them to high E­states, they not deseruing them: So likewise his rigorous iustice will bring thē to nought, if they bee vnthankfull for his benefits. For the ingratitude or benefits receiued, maketh that man not worthy to receyue any moe. The more a man throgh benefits is bound, the more grieuous punishment (if he How God punisheth ingratitude. be vnthankfull) hee deserueth.

All wise men should finde (if they apply their mindes therevnto) that in chastising God calleth those offences first to his minde, which are furthest from the thoughts of men. For before the Tribunall of God our secret faults are alwayes casting out bloud, to the end hee should execute on our person open iustice. And further (I say) that in this case I do not see that the Prince is exempted more, though hee liue in great felicitie, then the poore labou­rer, who liueth in extreame miserie.

And also we see it eft-soones by ex­perience, that the sudden Lightning, Tempests, and terrible Thunder, for­saketh the small and lowe Cottages, and battereth forthwith the great and sumptuous buyldings. Gods will and determination is, that foras-much as hee hath exalted them aboue all o­thers, so much the more they should acknowledge him for Lord aboue all others: For GOD did neuer create high Estates, because they should worke wickednes: but he placed them in that degree, to the end they should thereby haue more occasion to doe him seruice.

Euery Prince that is not a good Christian, a seruent louer of the Ca­tholike faith, nor wil haue any respect to the Diuine seruice: let him be assu­red that in this world hee shall lose his renowme, and in the other he shall hazard his soule. For that all euill Christians are the Pa­rishioners of Hell.


The Anthour proueth by twelue exam­ples that Princes are sharpely puni­shed, when they vsurpe boldly vpon the Churches, and violate their tem­ples.

Why the children of Aaron were punished.

IT is now time that wee leaue to per­swade with wordes and reasons, and to beginne to proue that which we haue sayd, by some excel­lent histories, and notable examples: For in the end, the hearts of men are stirred more through some little ex­amples, then with a great multitude of words. In the first booke of Le­uiticus Leuit. 10. the 10. Chapter, is declared, how in the time of Moses, the sonne in law of Iethro the Priest, (that was of Media) who was chiefe Prince of all the lynage of Seph, with whom the brother of Mary the Leper, had charge of the high Priesthood. For among all the lawes where God at a­ny God the onely ruler of all estates time put his hands vnto; hee pro­uided alwayes that some had the go­uernement of ciuill affayres, and o­thers the administration of the di­uine misteries.

This high Priest then had towe children, whose names were Nadab, and Abihu, which two were yong and beautifull, stout and sage, and during their infancie serued their Father, & helped him to doe sacrifice. For in the old law they suffered that Priests should not onely haue wiues & chil­dren, but also that their children should succeed them in their Tem­ples, and inherite their benefices.

There came a great mischance for the two children being apparrel­led in white, their bodies bound with stolles, their hands naked, in one hād holding a Torch, and in the other the Sencer, being negligent to light the new fire, and contrary to that the law had ordayned, and taking coales which were prohibited, a maruellous thing was seene in the sight of the people, which was, that sodenly these two childrē fel flat on the earth dead, and all their sacrifice burned.

Truly the sentence was maruellous, but it was iust in ough. For they well deserued to loose their liues, sithence they durst sacrifice the coales of an other.

This thing seemed to be true, for these young children saued theyr The iust iudgement of God. soules, and made satisfaction of the fault with their liues: but other wic­ked men God permitteth to liue a short time, because they shall loose their soules for euer.

The cause why the Azotes were punished.

THe Realme of Pale­stine being desti­tute of a King, at that time an hono­rable olde man go­uerned the realme, which was Father to two Knights, named Albino and Phi­nides; for at that time the children of Israel were not gouerned by Kings that did molest them by iniuries: but by sage men which did maintaine them by iustice.

It chaunced that the Azotes made warre against the Palestines, and were a kind of the Arabians, stout and war­like, the which fought so couragiou­sly, that the Palestines and Hebrewes [Page 66] were constrained to bring their Arke into the middest of the Battell: which was a Relicke, (as a man should haue put the holie Sacrament) to deuide a great multitude of people. But For­tune shewed her countenaunce vnto them so frowningly, that they were not onely ouer-come, but also were spoyled of the Arke, which was their chiefe relicke. And besides that, there were 4000. Palestines slaine. The Azo­tes carryed away the Arke, full of Re­lickes vnto their temple, in the Cittie of Nazote, and set it by Dagon, theyr cursed Idoll.

The most High & true God (which will not suffer any to be coequall with The permission of God. him in comparison, or in anie thing that hee representeth) caused this Idol to be shaken, thrown downe, and bro­ken in pieces, no man touching it. For our God is of such power, that to execute his Iustice he needeth not worldly helpe. God not contented thus (though the Idoll was broken in pieces, but caused those to bee puni­shed likewise which worshipped it: in such sort, that al the people of Azotes, Ascalon, Geth, Acharon, and of Gaza, which were fiue auncient and renow­med The plague of God vp­on Idola­ters. Citties) were plagued, both man and woman inwardly, with the disease of the Emerodes: So that they could not eate sitting, nor ride by the wayes on horse-backe.

And to the end that all men might see that their offences were grieuous, (for the punishment they receyued by the diuine Iustice) he replenished their Houses, Places, Gardens, Seedes, and Fields, full of Rats; And as they had erred in honouring the false Idol, and forsaken the true God, So hee would chastice them with two Plagues, sen­ding them the Emerodes, to torment their bodyes, and the Rats, to destroy their goods. For to him that willing­ly giueth his soule to the diuel, it is but a small matter, that God (against his will) depriue him of his goods.

This then being thus, I would now gladly knowe, whether of them com­mitted most offence? Eyther the A­zotes, which set the Arke in the Tem­ple, which (as they thought,) was the most holiest: or the false Christians, which with a Sacrilegious boldnesse, dare attempt (without anie feare of GOD,) to robbe and pill the Church goods, to theyr owne priuate com­moditie in this world.

Truely the Law of the Azotes diffe­red as much frō the Christians, as the offence of the one differeth from the other. For the Azotes erred not, belee­uing that this Arke was the Figure of the True God; but we beleeue it, and confesse it, and without shame cōmit against it infinite vices.

By this so rare and seuere a sudden punishment, mee thinks the Princes & great Lords, should not only there­fore acknowledge the True God, but also Reuerence and honour those things which vnto him are dedicated. For mans lawes (speaking of the reue­rence of a Prince,) doe no lesse con­demne him to die, that robbeth his house, then him which violently lay­eth hands on his person.

The cause why Prince Oza was punished.

IN the booke which the sonne of Hel­cana wrote, that is the second booke of the Kings, and the vi. Chapter, hee 2. Reg. 6. saith: That the Arke of Israel with his Relikes (which was Manna, the rodde, and two stones) stood in the house of Aminadab, which was the next neigh­bour to the citie of Gibeah, the sonne of Esay, (who at that time was King of the Israelites) determined to trans­pose the Relikes into his Cittie and house: For that it seemed to him a great infamy, that to a mortal Prince, [Page 67] a house should abound for his plea­sures, & to the immortall God there should want a Temple for his re­liques.

The day therefore appointed when they should carrie the Relique of Gi­beah to Bethlehem, there met thirty thousand Israelites, with a great num­ber of Noble men which came with the King, besides a greater number of strangers. For in such a case those are more which come of their owne pleasure, then those which are com­maunded. Besides all the people they say, that all the Nobility of the Realme was there to the end the re­lique should bee more honoured, and his person better accompanied. It chanced that as the Lords and people went singing and the King in person dancing, the wheele of the Chariot began to fall, and go out of the way, the which prince Oza seeing, by chance set to his hand, and his shoul­der against it, because the Arke where the Relique was should not fall, nor breake: yet notwithstanding that, suddenly and before them all, hee fell downe dead.

Therefore let this punishment be noted for truly it was fearefull, and ye ought to thinke, that since God, (for A good ad­monition for all E­states. putting his hand to the Chariot to holde it vp) stroke him with death, that a Prince should not hope (see­king the destruction and decay of the Church) that God will prolong his life. O Princes, great Lords, and Pre­lates, sith Oza with such diligence lost his life, what doe yee hope or looke for, sith with such negligence yee destroy and suffer the Church to fall? Yet once againe, I doe returne to exclaime vpon you. O Princes and great Lords, sith Prince Oza deserued such punish­ment, because without reuerence hee ad­uanced himselfe to stay the Arke which fell, what punishment ought yee to haue, which through malice, helpe the Church to fall.

Why King Balthasar was punished,

DArius King of the Perses and Medes be­sieged the auncient Babylon besieged. City of Babylon in Chaldea, whereof Bal­thasar sonne of Nabu­chodonozar the great was King and Lord: who was so wicked a child, that his father being dead, hee caused him to be cut in 300. peeces, & gaue him to 300. hawkes to be eaten, because hee should not reuiue againe, to take the goods & riches from him which he had left him. I know not what fa­ther is so foolish, that letteth his Son liue in pleasures, and afterwards the entralles of the Hauke wherewith the sonne hawked, should be the wofull graue of the Father, which so many men lamented,

This Balthasar then beeing so be­sieged, determined one night to make a great feast and banquet to the Lords of his Realme that came to ayde him; and in this he did like a va­liant and stout Prince, to the end the Perses and Medes might see, that hee little esteemed their power.

The noble and high hearts do vse when they are enuironed with many trauels, to seeke occasions to inuent pleasures; because to their men they may giue greater courage, and to their enemies greater feare. He de­clareth of Pirrus King of the Epiro­tes, when hee was besieged very straightly in the City of Tharenta, of the Romane Captaine Quintus Dentatus, that then hee spake vnto his Captaines in this sort: Lordes and friendes bee yee nothing at all aba­shed, since I neuer here before saw ye a­fraid, though the Romans haue compassed our bodies yet we haue besiged their harts [Page 68] For I let you to know, that I am of such a complection, that the straighter they The stout resolution of Pirius. keepe my body, the more my heart is at large. And further I say, though the Romanes beate downe the walles, yet our hearts shall remaine inuincible. And though there bee no wall betweene vs, yet wee will make them know that the hearts of Greekes are harder to o­uercome, then the stones of Tarentine are to be beaten downe.

But returning to King Balthasar. The banquet then being ended, and the greatest part of the night beeing spent, Belthasar the King being very well pleased that the banquet was made to his contentation (though he was not the sobrest in drinking wine) commaunded all the cups of gold & siluer with the treasure hee had, to be brought and set on the table, because all the bidden guests should drinke therein.

King Balthasar did this, to the end the Princes and Lords, with al his Captains, should manfully helpe him to defend the Siege, and also to shew that hee had much treasure to pay them for their paines. For to say the truth, there is nothing that en­courageth men of warre more, then to see their reward before their eyes: As they were drinking merily (at the banquet) of these cups which Nabu­chodonozar had robbed from the Temple of Hierusalem, suddenly by the power of God, and the desert of his offences, there appeared a hand in the wall without a body or arme, The reward due to those that con­temne God. which with his fingers wrote these words, Mane, Thetel, Phares, which signifieth: O King Balthasar, God hath seene thy life, and findeth that thy ma­lice is now accomplished. Hee hath com­maunded that thou and thy Realme should bee weighed, and hath found that there lacketh a great deale of iust weight, wher­fore he commaundeth, that thy life for thine offences bee taken from thee, and that thy Realme bee put into the hands of the Persians and Medes, which are thine enemies.

This vision was not frustrare, for the same night without any lon­ger delay, the execution of the sen­tence was put in effect by the ene­mies. The King Balthasar dyed, the Realme was lost, the treasures were robbed, the Noble men taken, and al the Chaldeans captiues,

I would now know, sith Balthasar was so extreamely punished onely for giuing his Concubines & friends drinke in the sacred cups, what paine deserueth Princes and Prelates then, which robbe the Churches for pro­phane things? how wicked soeuer Balthasar was, yet hee neuer chaun­ged, gaue, sold, nor engaged the trea­sures of the Synagogue: but what shall wee say, and speake of Prelates, which without any shame, waste, change, sell and spend the Church goods? I take it to be lesser offence to giue drinke in a Chalice, as King Balthasar did to one of his Concu­bines, then to enter into the Church by Symony, as many do now a daies. A good ca­neat for Magistrates This Tyrant was ouercome more by folly then by couetousnesse, but these others are vanquished with folly, co­uetousnes and Symony

What meaneth this also, that for the offence of Nabuchodonozar in Ie­rusalem, his sonne Balthasar should come and bee punished? For this truely mee thinke not consonant to reason, nor agreeable to mans Lawe, that the Father should commit the Theft, and the sonne should requite it with seuen double. To this I answer, That the good child is bound to re­store all the goods that his Father hath left him euill gotten. For hee that en­ioyeth the theft, deserueth no lesse pu­nishment, then hee that committeth the theft. For in the end both are theeues, and deserue to bee hanged on the gallows of the diuine iustice.

Why King Ahab was punished.

IN the fifth Booke of Malachie, that is to say, in the third booke of Kings, the 8. Chapter. It is declared, that Asa being King of Iudea, and prophesying in Ierusalem, at the time Omri was King of Israel, and af­ter him succeeded Ahab his sonne, be­ing of the age of 22, yeares. This Ahab was not onely young of yeares, but younger of vnderstanding, and was numbred among the wicked Kings: not onely euill, but too e­uil: for the Scriptures doe vse to call them by names infamed, whose liues deserued no memory. The The wic­kednes of Ahab. vices of this King Ahab were sundry and diuers, whereof I will declare some as hereafter followeth. First of all, hee followed altogether the life and steps of the King Ieroboam, who was the first that entised the children of Israel to commit Idolatrie: which thing turned to great reproach and infamy. For the Prince erreth not i­mitating the pathes of the good; but offendeth in following the wayes of the euill.

Secondarily, this King Ahab mar­ried the daughter of the King of the Idumeans, whose name was Iezabel, which was of the stocke of the Gen­tiles, and he of the Hebrewes. And for a truth the marriage was vnadui­sedly considered: for sage Princes should take wiues conformable to their lawes and conditions, vnlesse they wil repent themselus afterwards. Thirdly, hee built againe the City of Hierico, which by the commaunde­ment of God was destroyed, and cōmanded that vpon grieuous pains it should not bee reedefied againe: because the offences that were there­in committed were so great, that the Inhabitants did not onely deserue to lose their liues, but also that in Hieri­co there should not one stone re­maine vpon another.

Fourthly, King Ahab built a sump­tuous Temple to the Idol Baal, in the City of Samaria, and consecrated a wood vnto him, which he had very pleasant, and set in the Temple his I­mage of fine gold: so that in the raign of this cursed King, Baal the wicked Idol was so highly esteemed, that not onely secretly, but also openly, they blasphemed the true & liuing God. The case was such, that one day A­hab going against the King of Syria, to take him and his City called Ra­moth Gilead, being in battell was shot into the brest with an arrow, where­with he not onely lost his life, but also the dogges did lap vp his bloud that The punish­ment of Ahab. fell to the earth. O Princes and great Lords, if you will giue credite vnto mee you shall haue nothing more in recommendation then to bee good Christians: Sith yee see that as this Prince in his life, did serue strange Idols: so it was rea­son, that after his death, his bloud should bee buried in the entrals of rauenous dogs.

why King Manasses was punished.

THe King Manasses was the sonne of Ezechias, and Fa­ther of Amō, which were all Kinges. And truly they dif­fered so much in manners and conditions, that a man could scarcely iudge, whether the vertues and prowesses of the Fa­ther, were more to be desired: or the [Page 70] vice and wickednesse of the children to bee abhorred.

This Manasses was a wicked Prince, for as much as he built new Temples to Baal, and in the Cities made Her­mitages for the Idols, and in the mountaines repayred all the Altars that heretofore were consecrated to the Deuill. Hee consecrated many Forrests and Woods to the Idolls, he honoured the Starres as the Gods, & did sacrifice to the Planets and Ele­ments: for the man that is abando­ned by the hand of God, there is no wickednesse that his obstinate heart doth not enterprise. So that hee had in his Pallace all manner of false Pro­phets, as Southsayers, Prophesi­ers, Witches, Sorcerers, Enchaun­ters, and Coniurers, the which dayly hee caused to giue sacrifice to the I­dols: and gaue such credite to Sor­cerers and Inchaunters, that his ser­uants were all for the most part Sor­cerers, and in them was his chiefe de­light and pleasure. And likewise he was skilfull in all kind of mischiefe, and ignorant in all vertues. He was so cruell, and spilt so much innocent bloud, that if it had beene water put together, and the bodies of them that he slew layd on heapes, it would both haue couered their carkases, and also haue drowned the liuing: Yet hee not contented with that I haue spo­ken off, set in the Temple of the Lord What mis­chiefe fol­lowes the contemners of God. an olde Idoll that stood in the wood: for the punishment of which fact, God suffered his seruants to kill his eldest sonne. And afterward God would not suffer these such sundry mischiefes of mans malice, but of his diuine iustice caused these words to bee proclaimed in Hierusalem. Sith the King Manasses hath beene so bolde to contemne mee, and himselfe alone to commit the offences of all, I will cha­stice him alone with the same correction that hee hath shewed vnto others.

By these words let Princes note here, how the diuine vengeance ex­tendeth no further, then our offences deserue, so that if our fault bee litle, the punishment which hee giueth vs is very temperate: but if the Prince bee stubborne and obstinate in his wickednesse, let him be sure that the punishment shall be extreame.

Why Iulius, Pompeius, Xerxes, Cati­lina, Germanicus, and Brennus were punished.

WHen Pompeius the Great passed into the Orient, with all the Host of the Romaine people, and after he had subdued all Siria, Mesopotamia, Damasco, and Arabia: hee passed into the Realme of Pale­stine, which otherwise was called Iu­dea, where he committed diuers and sundry euils, so that many of the Ro­manes and Hebrues dyed there.

Finally, by force of Armes hee tooke the puissant City of Hierusa­lem, which as Plinie sayeth, was the best of all Asia: And Strabo sayeth of the situation of the World, that Rome was the chiefe of all Italy, and of Affricke the principall was Carthage, of Spaine Numantia: of Germany, Argentine: of Caldea, Babylon: of E­gypt, Thebes: of Greece, Athens: of Phenice, Tira: of Cappadocea, Cesare: of Thrace, Constantinople: and of Pa­lestine, Hierusalem.

Pompeius therefore not conten­ted to kill all the Auncients of that warre, to imprison the youth, to be­head the elders, to force the mothers, to defile the virgins, to teare in peeces the children, to beat down buildings, The cruelty of Pompei­us. and to rob the Treasure [...]: but encrea­sing euill vpon euill, and putting all [Page 63] al the people to destruction, he made of the Temple a Stable for his horses: which before God was abominable, that where alwayes heretofore he had beene a Conquerour, and triumphed ouer twenty two Kinges, euer after he was vnluckie, and ouercome in battell.

The famous rebell Catilina (as Sa­lust The punish­ment of sa­criledge. affirmeth) had neuer beene ouer­come, as if it had not beene for the robbing and destroying of the Tem­ples, which were consecrated to the Gods.

The noble Marcuus Marcellus (to whome no Romaine is to bee compa­red in vertues) the same day hee cau­sed the Temple of the Goddesse Fe­brua to be burnt, was himselfe slaine in battell.

The noble Romaine Captaine Drusius Germanicus, that was so well willed and beloued, because hee gaue a calfe meate to eate (which was the God of the Chaldeans (being prohibi­ted and forbidden) within a moneth after dyed, whose death was greatly lamented in Rome.

Suetonius sayeth, that after Iulius Caesar, had robbed the Temple of the Gawles; the Gods alwayes made him afrayde in the night.

And Xerxes, which was the Sonne of King Darius, when he passed into Italy to wage battell, before all o­ther things hee sent foure thousand Horsemen to Delphos (where the Temple of God Apollo was,) to beate it downe: for the pride of Xerxes was so great, that hee would not on­ly subdue men, but also conquer the Gods:

It chanced, that euen as they ap­proached neere the Temple to beate it downe, a sodaine tempest fell vpon The pride of Xerxes euerthrown them, so that with stones and thun­derbolts they were all killed in the fields, and so dyed.

Brennus was one of the renowned Captaines of the Gothes, who sith hee had conquered and subdued the Greekes, determined also to robbe the Treasures of the Temples, saying that Gods should giue vnto men, & not men vnto Gods, and that it was great honour to the Gods, that with their goods, men should bee made rich: But as they beganne to robbe the Temple, there fell a multitude of arrowes from heauen, that the Cap­taine Brennus dyed there, and all his The mis­rable end of Brennus. men with him, not one left aliue.

After that Sextus Pompeius was vanquished in the battell by sea, neare vnto Sicilie, by Octauus Augustus, hee retired himselfe into the Arkes La­cinii, where there was an auncient Temple consecrated to the Goddesse Iuno, endowed with maruellous Treasures.

And it chaunced one day, that his Souldiers asking him money, and he being then without, he commaun­ded them to beate down the Temple of the Goddesse Iuno, and to pay themselus with the spoyle of her trea­sure. Vhe Historiographers say, that within a while after it chanced, Sextus Pompeius to be taken of the knights of Marcus Antonius, and when hee was brought before Titus Generall of the Army, he spake vnto him these words I will you know Sextus Pompeius, I doe not condemne thee to dye for the offences thou hast committed against my Lord Marcus Antonius: But because thou hast robbed and beaten downe the Temple of the Goddesse Iuno.

For thou knowest, that the good Cap­taines ought to forget the offences against men, and to reuenge the iniuries done. the Gods.

CHAP. XXIIII. How Valente the Emperour because hee was an euill Christian, lost in one day both the Empire and his life, and was burned aliue in a sheepecote.

WHen Iulian the Apo­state was Emperour of Rome, hee sent to conquer Hungary, of no iust title hee had to it, more then of ambition to vnite it to the Romane Empire, For tirannous Princes vse all their force to vsurpe other realms by crueltie, and little regard whether they may doe it by iustice. And be­cause the Romane Empire was of great force, this ambitious Emperour Iu­lian, had in that warres a mighty and puissant Armie, which did wonder­full much harme through all the coū ­tries they came. For the fruites of warres is, to bereaue the enemies of life, and to spoyle the men of theyr goods.

It chaunced one day as fiue knights went out of the Campe, to make a rode, they found a youngman that The valour of Gracian. carried a halter in his hand, and as they would haue taken it away from him, to haue tyed theyr horses to let them feede, hee was so hardy and so stout, that hee defended himselfe from them all: so that he had more strength alone then they fiue altoge­ther.

The Romane Knights amazed to see this young man defend himselfe from them all so stoutely, very in­stantly desired him to goe to the Ro­mane Campe with them, and they promised him hee should haue great entertainement: for the Romanes were so diligent, that they should omit no good thing for want of mo­ney, so that it were for the publike weale. This young man was called Gracian, and was borne and brought vp in the Country of Pannonia, in a City they called Cibata: His lynage was not of the lowest sort of people, nor yet of the most esteemed Citti­zens, but were men that liued by the sweate of their browes, and in loue of the common people. And truly it is no small benefit that God had made him of a mean estate, for to be of base lynage, maketh men to bee despised, and not regarded: and to come of a noble bloud and high lynage, maketh men to be proud and lofty.

This young man being come into What ma­keth a man to be res­pected in this world. the Romaine Campe, the fame was immediately spred, how that he alone had vanquished 5. Knights. And his strength and courage was so highly esteemed, that within a while after he was made Pretour of the Armie. For the Romaines, not according to fa­uour, but according to the ability of men, diuided the offices and degrees of honour in warres. Time therefore working his nature, and many estates being decayed, after this young Gra­cian was made Pretour of the Armie, and that hee was sufficiently tryed in the warres, Fortune, which many times bringeth that to passe in a day, that mans malice cannot in many yeares, raysed this Gracian to be Em­perour of Rome: For truly one houre of good successe is more worth, then all worldly fauour.

This Gracian was not onely sin­gular Gracian chosen Emperour. in strength, couragious in bat­tell, fortunate in all his affayres: but also hee was luckie of children: that is to say, hee had two sonnes, which were Emperors of Rome, the one was called Valente, the other Valentinian. In this case the children might glory to haue a Father so stout: but the glory of the Father is greater to haue sonnes of such Nobility: For there is no greater felicity in this world; [Page 73] then during life, to come to honour and riches: and after death, to leaue good children to enioy them. The el­dest of the two sonnes was the Empe­rour Valente, who ruled in the Orient for the space of foure yeeres, and was the nine and thirtieth Emperour of Rome from Iulius Caesar, though some doe beginne at the time of Octauian, saying, that hee was vertuous, and that Iulius Caesar vsurped the Empire like a Tyrant. This Valente was beau­tifull of person, but poore of vertues: so that hee was more beautifull then vertuous, more couragious then mer­cifull, more rich then charitable, more cruell then pittifull. For there are ma­ny Princes that are very expert to de­uise new orders in a common wealth, but there are few that haue stoute hearts to put the same in execution.

In those dayes the Sect of Arrian the cursed Heretike flourished, and The heresie of Arian. the Emperour Valente was greatly blinded therein: insomuch that hee did not onely fauour the Arrians, but also hee persecuted the Christians, which was shewed for so much as he killed, and caused to be killed (for that occasion) many lay men, and tooke many Clerkes, and banished many Bishops, ouerthrew many Church­es, robbed the goods of the Christi­ans, and did infinite other mischiefes in the common welth: For the Prince which is infected with heresie, and li­ueth without feare of the Church, there is neither mischiefe nor treason but he will commit.

In the deserts of Egypt in the moun­taines of Armenia, and in the cities of Alexandrie, there was a great mul­titude of Fryers and religious men, amongst whom were many Wise­men, and pure of life, constant in the defence of the Church, and pati­ent in persecutions. For hee is a true religious man, that in time of peace is charitable to teach the ig­norant, and bolde in the time of Schismes to confound the Here­tikes, The description of a religious man.

The Emperour Valente was not onely a friend vnto the Arrians, and and an enemie to the Christians, but also hee was a persecuter of the de­uoute and religious Fryers. For hee commaunded proclamations to be hid through all his Realmes and Do­mions, that all the religious that were young in yeares, whole of their bodies, and sound of their limmes, should immediately cast off theyr Cowles and Hoodes, leauing theyr Monastery, and take Souldiers wages in the Campe: for hee sayde Mona­steries were inuented for nothing else but to maintaine those that were de­formed, blinde, lame and maymed; and vpon this occasion, hee shewed great tyranny: for many Monaste­ries were left naked, many notable constitutions were broken, many her­mites were martyred, many Fryers whipped, many notable Barons ba­nished, and many good men robbed of their goods. For the vertuous men desired rather the bitter life of the Monastery then the sweete and pleasant liberty of the world.

This wicked Emperour yet not contented with these things, as by chance his wife commended vnto him the beauty of a Romane called The cruel­ty of Va­lente. Iustinia, without any more delay hee married her, not forsaking his first wife, and immediately made a law throughout all his Empire, that without incurring any danger, each Chrian might haue two wiues, and marry with them by the law of Matrimonie: for the tyrannous Princes (to cloake their vices) make and establish the lawes of vices. The shame was not little that the Emperour Valente (a­gainst the commaundement of the Church) would marry with two wo­men at one time: but the lesse shame [Page 74] hee had, the greater was his iniquitie to put it in execution, and to cause it to bee published through his realm as a Law: for a particular vice cor­rupteth but one alone, but a generall law destroyeth all.

At that time the puissant Gothes were in the parties of the Orient, the which were in feates of Armes very valiant and couragious: but in things of faith they were euil brought vp, although the greatest part of them were baptized: for then the Church was very poore of Prelates, howbeit those that they had were very notable men. After the Gothes were bapti­zed, and the fury of the warres som­what appeased, they sent Ambassa­dours to the Emperour Valente, desi­ring him that immediately, and forth with hee would send them holy Ca­tholike Bishoppes, by whose doctrine they might be instructed, & brought to the Christian faith: for it was sup­posed that the Emperour of Rome could haue no Bishops in their coun­tryes vnlesse they were vertuous: this wicked Emperour, sith hee was now entangled with heresie, and that hee had peruerted the customes of good Emperours (that is, for hauing a­bout him euill Bishoppes) as he was now enuironed with al euils and mis­chiefes, so hee sent to the Gothes a Bishop called Eudoxius, the which was a ranke Arrian: and brought with him many Bishoppes, which were Heretikes, by the which the Kinges and Princes of the Gothes were Arrians, for the space of two hundred yeares,

The Catholike Princes ought to take great care to Watch, and in watching to be warie and circum­spect, that they, their Realmes, ney­ther The duety of euery good Prince their Subiects should in theyr time bee defiled with heresie: For the plague of Heretikes and Heresi­es, is not of light occasion banished the place where once it hath raig­ned.

Wee haue declared of the small faith that this Emperour had in Iesus Christ, and of the great mischiefes he did to the Church. Let vs now see what was the end of his miserable life. For the man of wicked life sel­dome commeth to good end. The matter was this, that as the Gothes were driuen out of the Realme by some of the Hunnes, they came im­mediately to the Realme of Thracia, which then was subiect to the Ro­manes. And the Emperour Valente without any couenant receiued them into his land, wherein hee commit­ted great folly, and vsed little wise­dome: for it is a generall rule, where The folly and ouer­sight of the Emperour. rebels, vagabonds, & strangers come to inhabite, there the Realme and do­minions is destroyed.

The Gothes remained certain yeares among them, without any dissention or quarrelling against the Romaines: but afterwards through the couetous­nes of Maximus chiefe Captain of the Romaines, who denyed the Gothes of their prouision, which so long time remained Friendes, arose betweene them so cruell warres, that it was the occasion of the losse and vtter vndo­ing both of Rome and of all Italie. For truly there is no enmity doth somuch hurt, as that of Friends when they fall out at discord,

The Warres now being kindled, the Gothes were scattred through the Kingdome of Thrace, and they left no Forte but they battered downe, they came to no Townes, Villages, nor Cities but they sacked and spoyled: They tooke no Wo­men but they forced, and raui­shed, they entred into no house but they robbed.

Finally, the Gothes in short time shewed the poison that they had a­gainst the Romans: & let no man mar­uell [Page 75] that the Gothes committed so many cruel and hainous facts, sith we that are Christians doe commit dayly greater offences. For among rebels it is a common errour, that that which they rob in the warres, they say they are not bound to restore in peace. The Emperor Valente was then in the citie of Antioch, and sith he had as­sembled there a great armie, and had great aide out of Italy, he determined himselfe in person to goe into the campe of the Romans, and to giue the onset against the Gothes, wherein hee shewed himselfe more bold then wise for a Prince in battael cā do no more then one man, nor fight more then one man, and if he die, he is the oc­casion of the death and destruction of them all. When both the hosts of the Romaines and the Gothes ioyned, there was betweene them a cruell and mortall fight: so that in the first brunt the Gothes shewed themselues so vali­ant, that they put to flight the Romans horsemen, leauing their footemen a­lone in great ieopardie, the which in short space after were discomfited and slaine, not one left aliue. For the barbarous sware that that day the Gothes should all die, or else vtterly they would destroy the name of the Romanes. And in this first charge the Emperour Valente was mortally wounded, who perceyuing he had his deathes wound, and that the battell was lost, hee determined to flye and saue himselfe; but when fortune be­ginneth to persecute any man, shee leaueth him not vntill shee see him dead, or beaten downe without reco­uery.

Therefore as this wicked Empe­rour (thinking to saue himselfe) came into a sheepecote, the enemies seeing him, in the end set fire on the shepe­cote, and burnt him aliue. So in one day hee loft his person, his life, his honour, and his Empire.

For it is meete that Princes and great Lords should lift vp their eyes to con­sider The mise­rable end of the Empe­rour Va­lentinian. well the Historie of Valente, that they stray not from the Catholike Faith, that they dishonour not Gods Ministers and maintaine heresyes. For as this accursed Emperour Valente for his wicked doings was condignely puni­shed by the hands of Almighty God So let them be assured, the selfe same God will not pardon their offences. For it is a rule infallible, That that Prince which is not a good Christian, shal fall into the hands of his cruell enemies.

CHAP. XXV. Of the Emperor Valentinian and Gra­cian his Sonne, which raigned in the time of Saint Ambrose, which be­cause they were good Christians, were alwayes fortunate, and that God giueth victory vnto Princes, more through the teares of them that pray, then tho­row the weapons of those that fight.

IAlentinian and Va­lent were brethren, and the eldest of A custome among the Romanes. them was Valenti­nian who succeeded in the Empire (af­ter the death of his Father) to bee Pretor of the Armies. For amongst the Romaines there was a Law in vre, that if the Father dyed in the fauour of the people, of right the sonne without any other demand was heyre.

This Valentinian was a lusty yong man, of a sanguine complexion, and of his body well shaped, and aboue all hee was a good Christian, and of all the people generally welbelo­ued: For nothing adorneth the no­ble man more, then to bee counted [Page 76] ciuill and courteous of behauiour.

At that time when the Emperour Iulian persecuted most the Christi­ans: Valentinian was Pretour of the Armies; and when Iulian was aduer­tised that Valentinian was a Christian, hee sent vnto him, and bad him doe sacrifice to the Idols of the Romane Emperor, or else to forsake the office of his Pretorship.

Iulian would gladly haue killed Valentinian but he durst not: for it was a Law inuiolable amongst the Romanes, that no Citizen should be put to death without the decree of the Senate, Valentinian receyuing the message of this Emperour Iuli­an, aduertised of his will (which was to renounce his faith, or to leaue his office) hee did not onely resigne his office, but therewithall forgaue the Emperour all the money hee ought him for arrerages of his sernice. And because hee would liue with a more quiet conscience he went from Rome into a Cloyster, where hee banished himselfe for two yeares and a halfe; & for this hee was highly esteemed and commended.

For it is a good signe, That man is The duty of euery good Christian. a good Christian, which of his owne free will renounceth worldly goods. Shortly after it happened that Iulian the Em­perour went to conquere the Realme of Persia, where in a battell hee was very sore wounded, and fell downe dead in the present place. For to the mishaps of Fortune, the Emperour with all his estate and pleasures is as much subiect, as is the poorest man that lieth in the streetes.

When the newes came to Rome that Iulian was dead, by the consent of all, Valentinian was created Empe­rour; so that hee being banished for Christs sake, was called againe, and crowned Prince of the Romane Em­pire.

Let no man care to loose all that hee possesseth, let no man weigh to see him­selfe despised for Christes sake: For in the end men cannot in a thousand yeeres so much abase vs, as God in one houre can exalt vs.

In the same yeare, which was from the foundation of Rome [...]119 in a Ci­ty called Atrobata, it rained very fine wooll, so that all the City became rich. In the same yeare, in the City of Constantinople, it hayled such great stones, that they killed many men, & left no heards in the fields aliue. At that same time there came an Earth­quake throughout Italy, and so like­wise in Sicille, that many houses fell, and slew sundry persons, and aboue all, the sea rose in such sort, that it drowned many Cities nigh thereun­to. Paulus Diaconus in the 11. booke The descrip­tion of the Emperour Valentinian De Legibus Romanorum, sayeth, that the Emperour Valentinian was of a subtill wit, of graue countenance, e­loquenr in speech, yet hee spake little stout in his affaires, and diligent in his businesse, in aduersities pati­ent, and a great enemie of the vici­ous, temperate in eating & drinking, and a friend of religious persons; so that they sayde, hee resembled the Emperour Aurelius. For after that the Emperour Marcus Aurelius dyed (with whom the felicitie of the Roman Empire ended) they euer vsed thēce­foorth in Rome to compare and liken the yong and new come Princes to the ancient Emperours their Anre­cessors. That is to say, if the Prince were couragious, they sayde hee was like Iulius Caesar, if he were vertuous, they sayde he was an other Octauian: if he were fortunate, that hee was Tiberius, if hee were rash, they say de he was Caligula, if he were cruell, they compared him to Nero, if hee were mercifull, they said he was like to Tra­ian, or Antoninus Pius, if he were beau­cifull, they likened him to Titus, if i­dle they compared him to Domitian, if [Page 77] he were patient, they called him Ve­spasius, if he were temperate they like­ned him to Adrian, if he were deuout to their gods, then he seemed Aure­lianus. Finally, he that was sage and vertuous, they compared him to the good Marcus Aurelius.

This Emperour Valentinian was a good Christian, and in all his affaires touching the Empire, very wise and circumspect, and yet he was noted for one thing verie much, and that was, that hee trusted and fauoured his ser­uants so much, and was so led by his Friends, that through their occasion, (they abusing his loue and credite,) there arose many dissentions amongst the people.

Seneca saide once vnto the Em­perour Nero, I will that thou vnder­stand (Lorde) that there is no patience, The say­ing of Se­neca. can suffer, that two or three absolutely commaund all, not for that they are most vertuous, but for that they are most in fa­uour with thee.

O yee Noble Princes and great Lords, if you were as I am, I know not what you would doe: but if I were as you bee, I would behaue my selfe in such sorte to them of my house, that they should be ser­uants, to serue and obey mee: and not to boast themselues, to bee so farre in fa­uour as to commaund mee: For that Prince is not sage, that to content a fewe getteth the hatred of all.

The Emperour Valentinian dyed in the fiue and fiftie yeare of his byrth, and the eleuenth yeare of his Empire, The death of the Em­perour. languishing of a long sicknes, that his vaynes were so dryed vppe, that they could not drawe one drop of bloud out of his bodie. And at the day of his Funeralles, where the dead corps was greatly bewayled. Saint Am­brose made an excellent Sermon, in commendation of him. For in those dayes, when any Noble Prince de­parted, that loued and succoured the Church, all the holy Bishops met to­gether at his buryall.

The two brethren beeing Empe­rours, that is to say, Valentinian and Valent, through the desire of the Fa­ther in law of Gracian, who was father to his wife, and desirous to haue one of his daughters childrē, chose Valen­tiniā to bring vp, who had a sonne na­med Gracian, which was created Em­peror so young, that as yet he had no beard. And truly the Senate would not haue suffered it, if the Father had not bin vertuous, and the childe sage. But the Senate would haue done this, and more also for Valentinian, because hee did deserue it well of the Romaine people. For it is reason in distribu­ting of the Offices, That Princes haue more repsect to the deserts of the Fathers, then to the tender age of the Children.

This young Gracian began to be so temperate, and was so good a Chri­stian in fauouring the Church, that it The wise­dome and discretion of young Gracian. was much quiet, and great pleasure to the Romaine people to haue chosen him: and greater ioy to the Father, (being aliue) to haue begotten him: so that he left for him after his death, an immortall memorie of his life. For the childe that is vertuous, is alwayes the memorie of the Father after his death.

In the yeare of the Foundation of Rome, a thousand, an hundred, thirtie and two, the said Gracian the younger was created sole Heyre of the whole Empire, his vnckle Valent and his Fa­ther being departed the world. And after Gratian came to the Empire, ma­ny Bishops which were banished in the time of his Vnckle Valent, were restored to the Church againe, and bannished all the sect of the Arrians out of his Region.

Truely he shewed himselfe to bee a very religious and Catholike Prince. For there is no better iustice to confound humain malice, then to establish the good in theyr estate.

In the first yeare of the raigne of Gra­cian [Page 78] Emperour, all the Germanes and the Gothes rebelled against the Ro­mane Empire, for they would not onely not obey him, but also they prepared an huge Army to inuade his Empire: Imagining that sith Gracian was young, hee neyther had the wit, nor yet the boldnesse to resist them: For where the Prince is young, there oftentimes the people suffered The olde Prouerbe not alwayes true. much wrong, and the Realme great mi­sery,

Newes came to Rome, how that the Gaules and Germaines were vp, the Emperour Gracian wrote to all the Catholike Bishops, that they should offer in their Churches great Sacri­fices with prayers vnto God, and in Rome likewise it was ordayned, that generally processions should be had, to the end Almighty God should moderate his ire against his people: For good Christians first pacifie God with Prayers before they resist their e­nemies with weapons. This good Prince shewed himselfe to be no lesse warlike in his outward affayres, then a good Christian in his Religion: for God giueth victories vnto Prin­ces more through tears then through weapons.

These things thus finished, and his affayres vnto God recommended, the noble Emperour Gracian determi­ned to march on, and himselfe in per­son to giue the battell. And truly as at the first hee shewed himselfe to bee a good Christian: so now he declared himselfe to bee a valiant Emperour: For it were a great infamy and disho­nour, that a Prince by negligence or cowardnes should lose that which his Predecessors by force of armes had gotten. The army of the enemies exceeded farre the Romane army in number, and when they met toge­ther in a place called Argentaria, the Romaines being inferiour to their ene­mies in number, were afraide: For in the warres the great multitude of enemi­es and their puissant power, maketh oft­times the desired victorie to be doubtful. This thing seene of the Romanes, and by them considered, importunately they besought the Emperour not to charge the battell, for they sayde hee had not men sufficient: And herein they had reason: For the sage Prince should not rashly hazard his person in the warre: nor yet should lightly put his life in the hands of Fortune. The Em­perour Gracian not changing coun­tenance, nor stopping in his words, to all the Knights which were about him, answered in this wise.

CHAP. XXVI. Of the godly Oration which the Empe­rour Gracian made to his Souldiers before hee gaue the battell.

VAliant Knights & Companions in The Orati­on of the Emperour: warre, most thanke­fully I accept your seruice, in that you haue solde your goods, and do offer your liues here to accompany mee in the warres, and herein you shew your duties: for of right you ought to loose your goods, and to venture your liues, for the defence and surety of your Country. But if I giue you some thanks for your company, know you that I giue much more for your good counsell which presently you giue me: for in great conflicts sel­dome is found together, both good counsell and stout hearts. If I haue enterprised this battell in hope of mans power, then you had had reason that wee should not giue the battell seeing the great multitude that they haue, and the small number that wee are; for as you say, the weighty af­fayres [Page 79] of the publike weale should not vnaduisedly bee committed to the incertainety of Fortune.

I haue taken vpon mee this daun­gerous and perillous warres: first trusting that on my part iusticeremai­neth, and sith God is the same onely iustice, I trust assuredly hee will giue mee the victory in this perillous con­flict: For iustice auayleth Princes more that they haue, then the men of warre doe which they lead. Wher­fore sith my cause is iust, and that I haue God the onely Iudge therof on my side, me thinketh if for any world­ly feare I should cease to giue the bat­tell. I should both shew my selfe to be a Prince of small faith, and also blas­pheme God, saying hee were of small iustice. For God sheweth most his power there, where the frailenesse of man hath least hope. Then sith I be­ginne the warre, and that by mee the warre is procured, and for mee you are come to the warre, I haue deter­mined to enter into the battell, and if I perish therein, I shall bee sure it shall bee for the memory of my per­son, and the saluation of my Soule: For to dye through iustice is not to dye, but to change 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 which for the Common-wealth I am bound, For to a Prince it were great infamy and dishonour, that the quarrell being his owne, should by the bloud of others be reuenged. I will proue this day in battell whether I was chosen Empe­rour by the diuine will or not: For if God this day causeth my life to bee taken frō 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 granteth me life. For in the end the sword of the enemy is but the scourge of our offences. The best that I see therefore in this matter to bee done is, that till three dayes be passed the battell bee not giuen, and that wee confesse our selus this night, & in the morning prepare our selus to receiue our Redeemer, and besides this, that euery man pardon his Christian bro­ther, if he haue had any wrong or in­iury done him: for oft times though the demaund of the war bee iust, yet many mishaps befall therein, through the offences of those which pursue & follow the same.

After that three dayes are past, & each thing according to my sayings before accomplished in euery point as behoueth, then let God dispose all things as hee shall see good, for now I am fully determined to aduenture my life in battell▪ Wherefore my va­liant and stout warriours, doubt not at all, for this day I must eyther van­quish mine enemies, or else suffer death: and if I dye, I doe that which needes I must. Wherefore I will now cease to exhort you any more, desi­ring you to consider that, whereunto your duties leadeth you, remembring that you are come as knights, and in the defence of your Country, you wage battell: for now we are come to that pinch, that deedes must more a­uaile The duety of euery good Soul­dier. vs then words: for peace ought to be maintained by the tongue, but wars ought to be atchieued by sword. Al these words then ended, and three dayes past, the Emperour in person gaue the battell, where the conflict & slaughter on both sides was very ter­rible: yet in the end the Emperour Gracian had the victory ouer his ene­mies, and there dyed in that conflict 30. thousand Gothes and Almaines, and of the Romanes there were not slaine but fiue thousand: For that Army only is preserued, which to the diuine will is conformable. Let all other Prin­ces take example by this noble Prince: let thē cōsider how it behoueth thē to be good [Page 80] Christians, and that in great warres and conflicts they neede not feare the great number of their enemies: but they ought greatly to see that the wrath of God bee pacified: For the heart is more dismai­ed with the secret sinnes, then it is feared with the open enemies.

CHAP. XXVII. That the Captaine Theodosius which was Father of the Great Emperour Theodosius, dyed a good Christian: And of the King Hismarus, and the Bishop Siluanus. And of a Councell that was celebrated, with the Lawes which they made and established in the same.

THe two brethren being Emperours, that is to say, Valen­tinian and Valente, in the coastes of A­fricke, & the realme of Mauritania, a Ty­rant vsurped the place of a King a­gainst the Romanes, who was named The tyran­ny of Thyr­mus. Thyrmus, a man hardy in trauels, and in daungers stout: For the aduentu­rous hearts oftentimes doe commit many tyrannies.

This tyrant Thyrmus by much crueltie came possessed of the realme of Mauritania: and not contented therewith, but also by tyranny pos­sessed a great part of Affricke, and prepared as (Hannibal did) an huge armie to passe into Italy, to dye in challenging the Empire of Rome.

This was a renowmed Tyrant that neuer tooke pleasure in any o­ther thing so much, as to spoyle and robbe others of their goods.

The Romaines that in all their do­ings were very sage, and of the tyran­ny of tyrants, sufficiently monished, immediately prepared a great Army to passe into Affricke, and to spoyle the realme, and to destroy the Tyrant by the commandement and decree of the Senate, and that for no pact or couenant the Tyrant should liue. And without doubt this commaundement was iust: For to him that is a destroi­er of the Common-wealth, it is not punishment inough to take away his life.

At that time there was a Knight in Rome, whose name was Theodosius, a man well strucken in yeares, and yet better approued in warres, but he was not the richest: howbeit hee vaunted himselfe (as truth was) to bee of the bloud of Traian the great Emperour, vpon which occasion, he was great­ly honoured and feared in Rome, for the Commons were so noble & gra­cious towards their Princes, that all those which from the good and ver­tuous Emperour descended, were of the whole Common-wealth greatly esteemed.

This noble Theodosius was of yeers so auncient, and so honoured in his olde age for his gray hayres, so noble of lynage, and so approued in warres, that he was by the authority of the Emperour Valentinian, by the con­sent of al the Senate, and by the good wils of the whole people, chosen to to goe to the conquest of Affricke, & truely their reason was good: For Theodosius desired much to fight a­gainst that Tyrant Thyrmus, and all the people were glad that such a cap­taine led the Armie, So this Theo­dosius imbarked with the Army, de­parted from Rome, and in fewe dayes arriued at Bona, which was a City greatly replenished with people, situ­ated in a hauen of the Sea in Affricke: And as he and his Army was landed, the tyrant Thyrmus forthwith encam­ped his Army in the field in the face [Page 81] of the Romaines, and so all being plan­ted in the plame, the one to assault, and the other to defend: immediatly the two Armies ioyned, and the one assaulting the other fiercely, on both sides was great slaughter. So that those which to day were conquered, to morrow did conquere: and those which yesterday were Conquerours, afterward remained conquered. For, in long warres Fortune chaungeth.

In the Prouince of Mauritania, there was a strong Cittie called Obelista, and as the captaine Theodosius, by his force occupyed all the Fielde, the Tyrant Thyrmus fortified himselfe in the Ci­tie, the which valiantly being assaul­ted of the Captain Theodosius, and al­most with his men, entring into the same: The Tyrant Thyrmus, (because hee would not commit himselfe vnto the faith of other men,) slewe him­selfe with his proper handes. For the The death of Thyrmus propertie of prowde and disdainefull hearts, is rather to dye in libertie, then to liue in captiuitie.

At that time the Emperour Valent, by the arte of Nigromancie, wrought secretly, to knowe what lucke should succeede in the Romane Empire. And by chaunce a certaine woman, (being an Enchaunteresse,) had answer of the diuel, that that name which with these Letters should bee written, should be successor to the Empire, and the Let­ters were these, T. E. O D: The Empe­rour Valent diligently enquired of all the names, which with these iiij. letters could be named? and they found that those signified the Theodotes, the Theo­dores, and the Theodoses: wherefore Valent forthwith put all those to the sword that were of that name.

Such was the wickednes of the Em­perour Valent, supposing they would haue taken the Empire from him bee­ing aliue. For the tyrannous Prince li­ueth euer in iealousie and suspition.

The excellent Captaine Theodosius, (the Tyrant Thyrmus being dead, and hauing subdued all Affricke to the Ro­mane The wic­kednes of Valent. Empire) was burdened that hee was a secret Traytour to the Empire, and that hee compassed to winne the same by tiranny. For this cause there­fore, the Emperour Valent gaue sen­tence he should be beheaded. And this was done, he neuer hearing of it, and much lesse culpable thereof: For all Princes that are wilfull in their do­ings, are very absolute of theyr sen­tence. This came to the eares of Theo­dosius, and seeing that he was condem­ned to be beheaded, hee sent inconti­nent for the Byshop of Carthage, of whom hee demaunded the water of holy Baptisme, and so being baptised, and in the Faith of Christ instructed, was by the Hangman put to execuri­on. Of this so grieuous, outragious, and detestable Fact, euery man iud­ged this Theodosius, to suffer as an in­nocent, and that the Emperour Valent had iudged euill, and like a Tyrant. For the innocencie of the good, is the great enemy of the euill.

At the same time, when Theodosius demaunded Baptisme, (according to the saying of Prosper in his chronicle) he said vnto the Bishop, which should Baptise him, these words; O Bishop The death of Theodo­sius. Saint Roger, I doe Coniure thee, by the Creatour which made vs, and doe desire thee for the Passion of IESƲ CHRIST, who redeemed vs, to giue me the water of Baptisme: For I haue made a vowe to be­come a Christian, if GOD graunted mee victorie, Wherefore I will accomplish my vowes, for those things which necessitie causeth vs to promise, our owne free will, ought to accomplish. I am sorrie with all my heart that being a Christian, I can liue no longer, and sith it is so, I offer my life for his sake, and into his mercifull hands I commend my soule, I leaue a Sonne of mine who is called Theodosius, and if the Fatherly loue beguyle me not, I thinke he will proue a vertuous and stout young [Page 82] man, and besides that he will bee wise, and sith by thy handes hee hath beene baptized, I require thee holy Father, that thou through thy wisdom wilt bring him vp in the true faith: for if hee be a good Christian, I trust in God hee wil be a great man in the Empire.

This Theodosius was the Father of the great Emperor Theodosius; so that the father was a Christian, and the sonne a Christian.

Not long after the Emperour Va­lent had caused Theodosius (which was father to the great Emperour Theodo­sius) to bee executed, Valent by the commandement of God was by the Gothes persecuted, and in the end put to death, and truely this was the iust The iudge­ment of God. iudgement of God. For he of right should suffer death himselfe, which vniustly procureth the death of others Rufinus in the second booke of his hi­stories, saith, that after the Tyrant 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 Romaines created a king in Africke, whose name was Hismarus, called for a right Christian in that time, which was from the building of Rome, 377. There was in the City of Carthage a holy Bishop called Silunaus, a man in humane and diuine letters excellent­ly well learned, and sith the King was so iust, and the Bishop 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 Bishoppe and good Christian King, being desirous in their time to giue good examples to the subiects, & for the time to come to leaue good precepts, they celebrated in the City of Bona a Councell, with all the Bishops of Affrikce, in the which King Hismarus was in person: For in an­cient Councels the Kings were not onely there in persons, but also all the Lords and high Estates of theyr Realmes.

Amongst many excellent things which Rufinus mentioneth that were ordayned in this place, it seemed good vnto me to remēber heere these few, to the end Christian Princes now present, may see what deuoute Christians those Kings were in times past.

A collection or purport of the Counsell of Hyponense.

THese were the thinges which in the sacred Coun­cell of Hyponense were ordayned, where there was in person the Catho­like King Hismarus, and the religious Bishoppe Siluanus, and in that which was ordained, the King spake in some of them, and doth counsell in other some: because in such semblable affayres, it is both meete and requi­site, that the royall preheminence be reuerenced, and the authority of the Church not diminished.

We ordaine that from two yeares to two yeares, all the Bishoppes, Abbots, and The lawes ordained by the Counsel of Hypo­nense. Prelates of our Realme doe assemble, and celebrate a Prouinciall counsell, and that in this counsell there be no temporall mat­ters spoken of, but of the disorders and misgouernances of Churches: For the Church is not lost for the lacke or scarsitie of Money, but for the too great aboun­dance of riches.

We ordaine, that all Prelates which are now and shall be hereafter, wee desire that when they will call any counsell in our [Page 83] Realmes, that before the celebration of the same they certifie vs, lest vnder that co­lour or cloake of a holy Counsel, there should some suspicious Assemblie bee had.

Wee ordaine that from henceforth the Princes and great Lords be bound to repaire to the sacred Counsell, with all the company of the holy Bishops. For it were more meete they should come to destroy false Heretickes, in winning their soules, then to fight against their Enemyes, in lo­sing theyr liues.

Wee ordaine that the Prince which commeth not to the counsels through neg­ligence, that vnto him the Sacrament of the Bodie of Christ be not ministred, vn­till the next counsell be celebrated. And if perchance hee refuse not to come through negligence, but through malice, wee will that they proceed against him as a suspect person in the Faith of Christ, For the Christian Prince that of malice only com­mitteth an offence is not perfite in the ho­lie Catholike Faith.

Wee ordaine, that at the first assem­blie of the Counsell, all the Prelates toge­ther openly, and afterwards eache one by himselfe priuately shall say the Creede singing, the which thing finished, the King himselfe alone shall say the Creede like­wise. For if the Prince be suspected of the holy Catholike Faith, it is vnpossi­ble that his people should bee good Chri­stians.

Wee ordaine, that in this Counsell the Prelates haue libertie and authortie to say vnto the King that that is comely and decent: and the King likewise to say in the Counsell what he thinketh best, so that the Prelates might tell the King without feare of his little care, he hath in destroy­ing the Heretickes, and Heresies of his Realme: and likewise the King might tell the Prelates their negligence that they vse in the charge of their flocke. For the end and intention of Counsells ought not to be any otherwise then a scourge for offences past, and a reformation of the euils to come.

We ordaine, that all the Princes of Affricke, immediately before they doe a­ny other thing in the morning, doe openly and diligently come to Morning prayer. What is re­quired of e­uery true Christian. And wee will also, that there be present all his Courtiers, and priuate Counsellors, which with thē ought to enter into coun­sell. For that creature cannot giue any good counsell, who hath not reconciled himselfe vnto God before

Wee ordaine that the Archbishops, Bishops, and Abbottes, continually, during the time of the counsell, doe euery day con­fesse themselues to Almighty God, seruing him deuoutly: and that one of them doe preach vnto the people Gods word. For if euery Prelate bee bound to giue good ex­ample alone, then beeing all together, they shall giue it much better.

Wee ordaine, that Princes (as much as lyeth in them) doe giue vnto their sub­iects good examples, and that on the Sab­both day in especiall and other Feastiuall­dayes, they repayre vnto the Cathedrall Church, to heare diuine Seruice: and there reconciling themselues to God, that they do publikely, in the presence of the congre­gation, receyue the holy Communion and Supper of the Lord. For it would bee a great slander to Princes, which ought to reprehend others of theyr faultes, that a man should neuer see them come to the Church, and be partakers of the holy Sa­crament.

Wee ordaine, that al Easter chiefly Princes doe goe to the church Cathedrall, and that the Metropolitane bee there in person, to celebrate the holy Communion: and the Gospell beeing said, the Prince himselfe shalbe bound to say with a lowde voyce the Creede, confirmed in the sa­cred counsell of Nicene: For that good Princes ought not only in theyr hearts to befaithful vnto IESƲS CHRIST, but are also bound openly with theyr mouthes to confesse it before the people.

Wee ordaine, that Princes be not so hardie, to haue in their Court aboue two Bishops: the one to giue him ghostly coun­sell, [Page 84] and the other to preach vnto him the word of God. And those we will that the Councell assigne vnto him, and that they bee bound to finde two persons of the most ancient and vertuous, which shall remaine in the Court no more but two yeares, and that afterwards others be placed there in their steades: For there is nothing more monstrous, then to see the Church long without Prelates

CHAP. XXVIII. What a godly thing it is to haue but one Prince to rule the publike weale: for there is no greater enemie to the com­mon weale, then hee which procureth many to commaund therein, as by rea­sons following it shall be proued,

OFt times with my selfe alone I consi­der, that sith the di­uine prouidence, which dooth all No respect of persons with God. things by weight & measure, and that of her, and none other all creatures are ruled and gouerned, and that furthermore with God, there is no exception of persons; for hee maketh the one rich, and the other poore: the one sage, and the other simple: the one whole, and the other sicke, the one fortunate, and the other vnlucky: the one seruant, and the other master: And let no man maruell though I muse thereat: for the variety of time is the beginner of dissentions among the people.

In mans iudgement it seemeth, that it were better all were alike in apparrell, all equall in commaunding, none greater then others in possessi­ons, all to content themselues with one kind of meate, and that the names commaunding and obeying were vt­terly abolished & brought to naught. So that if the miseries of the one, and prosperities of the other, were put out from that day forward, I protest there should bee no enuy in the World.

Laying aside mans opinion (which ought not to be compared to the di­uine mystery;) I demand now what reason sufficed to thinke, that of two brethren (that is to say, Iacob and Esau, both children of holy and de­uout persons) the diuine prouidence would the one should be chosen, and the other despised, that the one should commaund and the other o­bey, the one to be disinherited bee­ing the eldest, and the other to in­herite being the youngest? That which chaunced to Iacob with Esau, the same chaunced to the children of Iacob and Ioseph: who being parta­ker and chosen, God prouided and ordayned that to Ioseph beeing the youngest, his brethren should serue and obey him.

This thing was repined at of all the eleuen brethren, howbeit their inten­tions auayled not: for it is vnpossi­ble for mans malice to disorder that, which the diuine prouidence hath Man may purpose, but God dispo­seth. appointed: wee see dayly nothing else but that which man decreeth in a long time God disposeth otherwise in one moment. Truly it is not euill done, but well ordained. For in the end, sith man is man, in few things hee can be eyther certaine or assured: and sith God is God, it is vnpossi­ble that in any thing hee should erre. It is a great benefite of the Creator, to bee willing to reforme and cor­rect the words of the Creatures. For if God would suffer vs to doe after our owne mindes, wee should bee quite contrary to his pleasure.

God without a great mistery did not ordayne, that in one family there should bee but one Father, among one people there should be but one [Page 85] Cittizen that should commaund, in one Prouince there should be but one Gouernour alone, and also that one King alone should gouerne a prowde Realme, and also that by one onely Captaine a puissant Armie should be ledde.

And furthermore and aboue all, he willeth that there bee but one Monar­chiall King and Lord of the Worlde: Truely all these things are such, that wee with our eyes doe see them, and know them not: wee heare them with our eares, and vnderstand them not: we speake them with our tongues, and knowe not what wee say. For truely mans vnderstanding is so dull, that without doubt he is ignorant of more then he knoweth.

Appolonius Thyaneus compassing the most part of Asia, Affrike, and Europe: That is to say, from the bridge of Ni­lus, where Alexander was, vnto Gades where the pillers of Hercules were, hee beeing one day in Ephese, in the Tem­ple of Diana, the Priestes asked him, what thing hee wondered at most in all the world? For it is a general rule, that men which haue seene much, al­wayes doe note one thing aboue ano­ther.

Although the Phylosopher Appolo­nius greatlyer esteemed the workes, then the speaking of them that demanded the question, yet foorthwith hee made them this answere.

I let you know Priests of Diana, that I haue bin throughout France, England, Spayne, Germanie, through the Laces The speech of Appolo­nius. and Lydians, Hebrues & Greeks, Par­thes & Medes, Phrygians, and Corin­thiās, and so with the Persians, & aboue in all the great Realme of India: For that alone is more woorth then all these Realms together. I will you vnderstand that all these Realmes in many and sun­dry things doe differ, as in languages, per­sons, beasts, mettals, waters, flesh, customs, Lawes, Lands, buildings, in Apparell, and Forts, and aboue all, diuers in their Gods and Temples,

For the Language of the one differeth not so much 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 Affricke. Amongst all things which I haue seene, of two onely I did maruell, which is, that in all the parts of the world wherein I haue trauailed, I haue seene quiet men troubled by sediti­ous persons: the humble, subiect to the proude: the iust, obedient to the Tyrant. I haue seene the cruell, commaunding the mercifull: the coward ruling the hardie, the ignorant teaching the wise: and a­boue all, I saw that the most Thieues did hang the innocent on the gallowes.

The other thing whereat I maruel­led, was this, That in all the places and A wort saving, [...] worthie ob­seruation. where I haue bene, I knowe not, neyther could I finde any man that was euerla­sting, but that all are mortall, and in the end both high and low haue an ende: For manie are layd too night in theyr graue, which the next Day following thought to bè aliue.

Leaue aside the diuine iudgement, in that hee spake, hee said highly, and like a Philosopher: for it seemeth to bee a pleasant thing, to see how men gouerne the World.

Therefore now to the matter: It is but reason we know the cause of this so ancient a noueltie, which is, That God willeth and ordayneth, that one onely command all, and that all toge­ther obey one. For there is nothing that God doeth (although the cause thereof bee vnknowne vnto vs), that wanteth reason in his Eternall wise­dome.

In this case (speaking like a Christi­an, I say) that if our Father Adam had What we lost by the fall of A­dam. obeyed one onely Commaundement of Almightie GOD, which was for­bidden in the Terrestriall Paradise, we had remained in liberty vpō the earth, [Page 86] and should haue bin Lords and mai­sters ouer all; But sith hee would not then obey the LORD, wee are now become the abiects and slaues of so many Lords.

Oh wicked sinne, accursed be thou, sith by thee onely the Worlde is brought into such a bondage: without teares I cannot speake that which I would, that through our first Fathers, (which submitted them­selues to sinne) we their childrē haue lost the Seignoric of the world. For sith they were prisoners vnto sinne in their soules little auaileth the libertie of their bodies.

There was great diuersitie betwixt the opinions of Pythagoras, and the opinions of Socrates, for so much as those of Socrates schoole said: That it were better all things should be common, and all men equall.

The other of Pythagoras schole saide The diffe­rence of o­pinions. the contrarie: And that the Common­wealth were better, wherein each one had his owne proper, and all should obey one, so that the one of them did admitte and graunt the name of seruants, and the o­thers did despise the name of Lords,

As Laertius in his first booke of the lise of Phylosophers, saide: that the Phylosopher Demosthenes was also of the same opinion, that to the ende the people should be well gouerned, hee would two names should be vtterly a­bolished, and taken away: That is to say, Lords and subiects, Maisters and seruants: For, the one desirous to rule by fiercenesse, and the others not wil­ling to obey to tyrannie, would shed the bloud of the innocent, and would be violent against the poore: They would destroy the renowmed, and fa­mous people, and Tyrannie would waxe stoute, the which things should be taken away, if there were no seigno­rie, nor seruitude in the world: But notwithstanding these things, the Phi­losopher in his first booke of his Pol­litiques, saith: That by foure naturall reasons wee may prooue it to be very ne­cessarie, that Princes doe commaund, and the people obey.

The first reason is, of the parts of the Elements, simple, and mixt. For wee see by experience, that the Ele­ments doe suffer, (to the ende they would be ioyned together) the one to haue more power then all: the which is shewed by experience. Forasmuch as the Element of the Fire, the Ele­ment of the Ayre, and the Element of the Water doe obey, the Element of the Earth doth commaund.

For against their nature he bringeth them all to the Earth. But if all the noble and chiefest Elements were o­bedient to the most vile Element, on­ly to forme a bodie mixt, it is a grea­ter reason, that all obey to one vertu­ous person, that the Common-wealth might therby the better be gouerned,

The second reason is, of the bodie and the soule, in the harmonie wherof the Soule is the mistresse which com­maundeth, The soule mistresse of the body. and the bodie the seruant, which obeyeth: For the bodie ney­ther seeth, heareth, nor vnderstandeth without the bodie.

The sage Philosopher by this infer­reth, that the sage men should natu­rally be Lords ouer others. For in the world there is nothing more monste­rous, then that Fooles should com­maund, and wise men obey.

The third reason taketh his ground on beasts: For wee see by experience, that diuers beasts by the onely know­ledge of men are gouerned: therefore it is but meete that many men, which are more liker Beastes then the beasts themselues, do suffer themselues to be gouerned and ruled by wise men. For the Commonweale is more profited by a brute beast, then it is by witles men. The 4. reason proceedeth of women: For we see, that they being created to the image of GOD, God cōmandeth & ordaineth, that they should be subiect to man, presupposing their knowledge [Page 87] not to be so great, as the knowledge of men. Therefore if this thing bee thus, why could not diuers mortasl men (who without comparison know lesse then women) take themselues for happy, that one alone would commaund and gouerne them: so that such a one were a sage and vertuous person.

Sith man is naturally politique, which is to bee a friend of company: the company engendreth enuie, and afterwardes discord nourisheth war, and warre bringeth in tyranny, and tyranny destroyeth the Common­wealth: and the Common-wealth be­ing lost, all men thinke their liues in perill.

Therefore it is very necessary, that in the Common-wealth many bee gouerned by one alone: For to What is re­quired in the gouernemēt of the common wealth. conclude, There is no Common­wealth well gouerned but by one a­lone. The great trauels and incon­ueniences which the Auncients found in times past, were the occasi­sion that it was ordayned in the pub­like weale, that all should obey one: Sith that in a Campe one onely Captaine is obeyed, and in the Sea one Pilot followed, In the Mona­stery all obey one Prelate, and in the Church all obey one Bishoppe; and since in a Hiue of Bees, one Bee one­ly leadeth all the rest: It were not reason that men should bee without one King, nor the Common-wealth without a Gouernour.

These men that will not haue a King in a Common-wealth, are like vnto drones and waspes, which with­out trauell eate the sweate of others. And my opinion in this case should be, that euery man that will not bee commanded, as an abiect of the com­mon weale should bee expulsed and cast out thereof: For in a common­wealth there can bee no greater enemie then hee that desireth that many should rule therein. In that publike Weale, where one alone hath care for all, and all obey the commandements of one onely, there God shall bee serued, the people shall profit, the good shal bee esteemed, and the euill despised, and besides the Tyrantes shall bee suppressed. For a gouernance of ma­ny is not profitable, vnlesse they re­fer themselues to the iudgement of a few, and to the arbitrement of one a­lone. Oh how many people & realms (because they would not obey their Princes by iustice) haue since by cru­ell tyrants been gouerned with tyran­ny: For it is euen a iust plague, that they which desire the scepters of righteous Princes, should feele and proue the scourge of cruell tyrants. Alwaies it was, and shall be, that in the world, there was one to command, another to obey, one to gouerne, and another to be gouerned.

In this case let no man say, I am excepted: for vntill this day there hath no Prince nor Knight bin seene, but hath trauelled vnder this yoake: I warne and pray, and importunately require you all, that you be loyall, and faithfull seruants, to the end you may deserue to haue louing Lords: For the Prince that is wicked causeth his subiects to rebel, & the seditious sub­iect maketh his Lord becom a tyrant. It is a great thing to the people, their Princes be good or euill: For there are no Princes so stable, that alwayes wil di­semble the euill: nor there is no gouernor so very a tyrant, but somtimes will ac­knowledge God suffe­reth euill Gouernors for the offences of the people. the good. Oftentimes God suffereth that there be Emperors in the Empire, Kings in Realms, Lords in Ci­ties, and Prelates in Churches, not all on­ly as the Common wealth desireth, nor as the good gouernment requireth, but as the offence of the multitude deserueth: For we see many that haue the charge of soules, which deserue not to keepe the sheepe: That to be true, plainly appears: [Page 88] For such doe not gouerne but disor­der, they doe not defend but offend: they doe not resist the enemies, but engage and fell the innocent: they are no Iudges but Tyrants: they are not gentle Pastors but cruell Hang­men: they are not encreasers of the Common-wealth, but destroyers of Iustice: they are not ordayners, of the Lawes but inuentors of tributes: their hearts wake not to good, but to inuent and worke all mischiefe. And finally, God sendeth vs such Prelates and Gouernours, not for that they should bee Ministers of his lawes, but for that they should bee scourgers of our offences.

CHAP. XXIX, That in a publike weale there is no grea­ter destruction then where Princes dayly consent to new orders, and change olde customes.

IN the first booke of the Kings, the 8. Chapter, of the ho­ly 1 Reg. 8. and sacred scrip­ture is sayde: that Samuel (when hee was olde) in his stead placed his two sonnes to gouerne the people, whose names were Iohel and Abiah, for that naturally the Fathers are desirous to aduance their childrē to honour.

The sonnes of Samuel were resident and held the iudgement in the City of Beersheba, which was the furthest part of Iudea, and the olde Samuel went to dwell in the City Ramah. The honourable and most auncient men, (among the people of Ierusalem) as­sembled together, and decreede to send Ambassadours to Samuel, which should bee the wisest men of all the Synagogue: for the ancients in those dayes were so circumspect, that they neuer committed any affayres in the common wealth into the handes of young men. The Ancients then be­ing arriued at Ramah, spake these words vnto Samuel.

Samuel, thou art now olde, and for thy yeares thou canst not gouern the peo­ple, therefore thou like a pittifull Father hast committed the gouernement of the people into the hands of thy children.

Wherfore we let thee know in this case, that thy children are couetous. First, they doe receyue bribes of the suters. And secondarily, they doe great iniurie to the people: Therefore wee are come to re­quire thee to giue vnto vs a King that may gouerne vs, and that might leade vs in battell: for we will no more Iudges to iudge vs, but Kings for to gouerne vs.

The aged Samuel hearing the ambassage, was ashamed of that the Ancients of Iudea had tolde him: first seeing his children to bee euill: Se­condarily, because they would take their offices from them, And truely herein Samuel had iust occasion, both to bee ashamed, and also sorry.

For the enormities, vices and wickednesse of the young children The folly of youth. are swords that passe through the hearts of the old and auncient Fa­thers. Samuel seeing that the He­brewes were determined to depriue them of their office, and gouerne­ment of the people, had none other remedy but euen to make his mone to God of his griefe, and God hea­ring his complaints, said vnto him: Samuel. Be not sad, nor lament not, for their demaunding a King (as they doe) they doe not mislike thy person, but they disprayse my prouidence, and maruell not though they forsake thy children, for they are somewhat too young, sith they haue forsaken mee their God, and wor­ship false Idols. Sith they demaund a King. I haue determined to giue them [Page 89] one, but first tell to them the conditions of the King, which are these.

The King whom I will giue you, shall take your Children, with your Charriots and beasts, and shall send them loaden with burdens. And yet therewith not contented, hee shall make your children poastes by the way, Tribunes and Centuri­ons in his Battells, and shal make them la­bourers and gardeners in his gardens, he shal make them sow his seeds, & paste his bread, and furbish his harnes, and Armor.

You shall haue besides both delicate and tender daughters, the which you shall little enioy: For the King that I will giue you, shall commaund them to keepe and at­tend The power and [...] of a King. those that are wounded in the wars, hee shall make them Cookes in his Pallace, and Caters of his expences.

The King that I will giue you, if hee handle your Sonnes and Daughters euil, much worse hee will handle your goods. For on the beasts and fertile Fieldes that you haue his Heard shall feede, he shal ga­ther the best grapes of your vines, he shall choose of your Oliue trees the best olyues and oyles. And if any fruit afterwards remaine in your fieldes, hee will they shall bee gathered, not by you, but of his worke­men: And afterwards the King that I wil giue you shal oppresse you much more.

For of euery pecke of corne, you shal giue him one, of ten sheepe you must needes giue him one: so that of all things which you shal gather against your wils, you shal giue the tenth. Of your Slaues the King shall be serued sooner then you: and he shall take all your Oxen that labour, and trauaile in your owne Possessions, and shall bring them to plough in his owne ground and tenements. So that you shall pay tribute, & the King shall take his owne profit, for the wealth and commoditie of his Pallace.

And all this which I haue rehearsed before, the King shall haue whom I will giue you. The Historie which here I haue declared, is not Ouid, nor yet the Eglogges of Ʋirgil, nor yet the fay­ning of Homer; but it is the sentence and the very word of God.

O mortall ignoraunce, that wee de­maund and know not why nor where­fore, to whom nor where, neither whē wee demaund, which causeth men to runne into sundry errours. For fewe men are so wise that they offend not in choosing, and that they can aske with reason. The folly of men.

The Hebrewes asked (as they thinke) the better, and GOD giueth them the worse, they aske one to gouern them, and God giueth them a Tyrant to de­stroy them: they aske one that should maintaine them in Iustice, and hee threatneth them with tyrannie: they require one that shuld giue them, and hee giueth them one which robbeth them: They require one to deliuer them from bondage, & hee ordaineth one to keepe them as slaues.

And finally, the Hebrewes trusting to be deliured of their Iudges, which ruled not according to their appetits. God shal giue thē a king that shal take away their goods from them by force.

Oh how many times ought wee to pray vnto GOD, to giue vs Princes in our Common-wealth, and Prelates in our Churches, which doe knowe how to gouerne vs, and minister vnto vs: How much we are boūd to pray vn­to God for good Go­uernors. not according to the weight of our soule, but according to the measure of his mercie?

Plato saith in the first booke of lawes, that one of the most Excellent lawes which the Siciones had in theyr Pro­uince, was, to keepe their Cities, that they should not chaunge nor alter a­ny thing therein.

Truely those Barbarous were sage, in theyr doing: and Plato was very discreete to commende them therein; For nothing destroyeth a Common­wealth sooner then to suffer chaunges ofttimes therein.

All these things seemed to bee true in the Hebrues, the which in their gouernment were very rash and vndiscrete.

[Page 90] For first they gouerned themselues by Patriarckes, as Abraham was. After they were gouerned by Prophets, as Moses. By Captaines, as Iosuab: by Iudges, as Gedeon: by Kings, as Da­uid: and after they gouerned them­selues by Byshops, as Abdias was, and in the ende the Hebrewes not conten­ted with all these, GOD suffered that they should fal into the hāds of Anti­chus, Ptholomeus, & Herodes, all Tirants.

This punishment fell (according to the iust iudgement of God) vpon them for theyr offences: for it was euen meete, that they that would not enioy the pleasant libertie of Iudea, should taste the cruell seruitude of Babylon.

The condition which chaunced in the gouernment, to the vnconstant Hebrewes, the same happened vnto the proud Romains. The which in the be­ginning of their Empire were gouer­ned by Kings: afterwards by x. men: The go­uernment of Rome. Then by the Consuls: so by the Di­ctators: by the Censors: and after­wards, by the Tribunes, and Senators: and in the ende, they came to be go­uerned by Emperours, and tyrannous Princes. The Romaines inuented all these alterations in their gouernmēts, for none other cause, but to see whe­ther they could be deliuered from the commaundement of another. For the Romains in this case were so proud harted, that they had rather dye in li­bertie, then liue in captiuitie: God had so ordained it, and their wofull case did so promise it, when they were aboue all other Kings and Realmes of the Earth, that then the slaue should be obedient to his yrons, and the sub­iect should acknowledge the homage to his Master. And though that sub­iects doe moue warres, though Kings also do winne Realms, and Emperors conquer Empires: yet wil they, or nill they, both great and small, should ac­knowledge themselues for seruants.

For during the time of our fleshly life, we can neuer withdraw our selue from the yoke of seruitude. And say not you Princes, for that you are puis­sant Princes, that you are exempted from seruitude of men. For without doubt it is a thing more vntollerable, to haue theyr hearts burdened with thoughts, then their necks loden with The care of Princes. yrons.

If a slaue be good, they take from him some yrons: but to you that are Princes, the greater you are, the greater cares you haue. For the prince that for his Common-wealth taketh care, hath not one momēt of an houre quiet. A slaue hopeth to be deliuered in his life, but you cannot looke to be deliuered till after your death. They lay yrons on the slaue by weight, but thoughts burden you without mea­sure. For the wofull hart is more bur­dened with one houre of care, then the body is pressed with twēty pound of yron. A slaue or prisoner if hee be alone, many times fyleth off his yrons but you Princes when you are alone, are more grieuously tormented with thoughts: For solitary places are Ar­bours and Gardeins, to wofull and heauie hearts.

A slaue hath nothing to care for but himselfe alone: but you that be prin­ces haue to satisfie and please all men, For the Prince should haue a time for himselfe, and also for those which are about him.

The diuine Plato said well, that hee that should haue the least parte of a Prince, and belonging to a Prince, ought to be the Prince himselfe. For to that ende the Prince should bee all his owne, he ought to haue no part in himselfe.

Though a slaue work & trauel in the day, yet he sleepes without care in the night: but you Princes passe the time in hearing importunate suites, and the nights in fetching innumerable sighs.

[Page 91] Finally, I say, that in a slaue (be it well, or be it euill) all his paine is fi­nished in one yeare, or is ended at his death; but what shall a wofull Prince doe when he dyeth. If he were good there is but a short memory of his goodnesse: and if hee hath beene e­uill, his infamy shall neuer haue end.

I haue spoken these things to the end that great and small, Lords and seruants should confesse and acknow­ledge, the true Seigniory to be onely vnto him, who for to make vs Lords aboue, became a seruant heere be­neath.

CHAP. XXX. When the Tyrants beganne to ratgne, and vpon what occasion commaunding, and obeying first begann. And how the authority which the Prince hath, is by the ordinance of God.

CEasing to speake a­ny further of the Poeticall Histories, and auncient fay­nings, and speaking the truth, accor­ding to the diuine Histories, the first that did liue in this World, was our Father Adam, who did eate of the fruite forbidden, and 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 theyr conscience a long time to bee infec­ted: then one onely day to see theyr wiues displeased.

The first homicide of the worlde was Caine: The first that dyed in the World was Abel: The first that had two wiues in the World was Lamech. The first City of the World was by Enoch built in the fields of Edon: The first Musition was Tubalcaim: The first which sayled in the World, was Noe: The first Tyrant of the World was Nembroth: The first Priest was Melcrisedech: The first King of the World was Anraphel: The first Duke was Moyses: The first which was called Emperour in the World, was Iulius Caesar. For vntill this time, they which gouerned, were called Consuls, Censors and Dictators. And from Iulius Caesars hitherto haue beene called Emperours.

The first battell that was giuen in the world (as wee reade) was in the wilde valleyes, which now they call the dead and salt sea: For a great part of that, that then was the maine land is novv the dead sea. The holy Scrip­tures cannot deceyue vs, for it is full of all truth, and by them it is decla­red, that eighteene hundred yeares after the World beganne, there was no battell assembled, nor company that met to fight in the field: for at that time when they had no ambiti­on nor couetousnesse, they knew not what battell meant.

It is reason therefore that in this writing we declare the cause, why the first battell was fought in the world, to the end Princes may thereof bee aduertised, and the curious Reader remaine therein satisfied.

The manner was this, that Bassa being King of Sodome, Bersa King of The reason why warres first began. Gomorrhe, Senaab King of Adamee Semebar King of Seboime, and Vale King of Segor, were all fiue Tributa­ries to Chodor Lanmor King of the Elamites, which fiue Kings conspi­red against him, because they would pay him no tribute, and because that they would acknowledge no ho­mage vnto him. For the realmes paying tribute, haue alwayes rebel­led and sowed sedition.

This rebellion was in the 13, [Page 92] yeare of the raigne of Chodor Laomor, King of the Elamites, and immediate­ly the yeare following, Anraphel king of Sernaar, Arioch king of Ponte, and Aradal King of the Allotali, ioyned with Chodor Laomor. All which to­gether beganne to make warres, to destroy Cities and Countries vpon their enemies.

For the olde malice of the warre is, That where they cannot haue their e­nemies which are in the fault, they put to sacke and destroy those which are inno­cent and guiltlesse.

So the one assaulting, and the o­ther desending, in the end all come to the field, they gaue battell as two enemies, and the greatest part was ouercome of the fewest, and the fewest remayned victorious ouer the greatest, which thing God would suf­fer in the first battell of the world, to the end Princes might take example, that all the mishappes of the Warres come not, but because they are be­gun of an vniust occasion.

If Chodor Laomor had helde him­selfe contented as his Predecessors did, and that hee had not conquered Realmes in making them subiect, and had not caused them to pay tribute, neyther they vnto him would haue denyed reason: nor hee with them would haue waged battell. For tho­row the couetousnesse of the one, and the ambition of the other, enmities grew betweene the people.

This considered which wee haue spoken of Sygnorie, and of those which came into contentions for sig­nories.

Let vs now see from whence the first originall of seruitude came, and the names of seruantes and Lordes How serui­tude began. which were in the old time, and whe­ther seruitude was by the discorde of vertuous men, first brought into the World, or else inuented by the am­bition of tyrants: 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 manner. The holy Patriarch Noah had three sons, which were Sam, Ham, and Iaphet: and the second sonne (which was Ham) begot Cusn, and this Cusn begotte Nimrod, Nimrod made himselfe a Hunter of wilde beasts in the woodes and mountaines: Hee was the first that beganne to play the Tyrant a­mongst men, enforcing their persons and taking their goods: and the Scripture called him Oppressor homi­num, which is to say, an Oppressor The first tyrant that euer was. of men: For men of euill life alwaies commit much euill in a Common­wealth.

He taught the Chaldeans to honor the fire, hee was the first that presu­med to be an absolute Lord, and the first that euer required of men ho­mage and seruice.

This cursed tyrant ended his life in the golden World, wherein all things were in common, with the Common-wealth: For the Aunci­ents vsed their goods in common: but their wils onely they reserued to themselues. They ought not so thinke in a light matter, for his persō to haue been a tyrant, but they ought to think it a greater matter, to haue beene a rebel in a Common-wealth: & much more they ought to esteeme it as an euill matter in him, which hath beene (as hee was) a disturber of the good customes of his country: but the most vniust of all is, to leaue behind him a­ny euil custom brought into the common wealth: for if hee deserue great infamy which worketh euil in his life: truly he deserueth much more, which trauelleth to bring that euill in vre af­ter his death. Eusebius seemeth to af­firm, that after Nimrod had destroied the realm of Chaldea by his plagues, came to Italy with 8. sons, & built the [Page 93] of Camesa, which afterwards, in Sa­turnes time was called Valentia, and in the time of Romulus it was called as it is at this present, Rome. And sith this thing was thus, a man ought not to maruell, that Rome in auncient time was possessed with Tyrants, and with Tyrants beaten downe, since by so so famous and renowmed tyrants it was founded. For euen as Hierusa­lem was the daughter of the patient, and the mansion of the quiet 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 beginning of signorie and seruitude, and when they came into the world: for the I­dolaters not onely did not know the Creator of the World, but also they were ignorant of many things which beganne in the world. They ther­fore say, that the Tyrant Nimrod (a­mongst the others) had a sonne cal­led Belus, and that this Belus was the first that raigned in the land of Syria, and that hee was the first that inuen­ted warres on the earth, and that hee Belus the first inuen­tor of wars set vp the first Monarche among the Assyrians, and in the end hee dyed after hee had raigned 65. yeares in Asia, and left the world in great wars. The first Monarchie of the world, was that of the Assyrians, and continued 132. yeares.

The first King was Belus, and the last King was Sardanapalus, whome (at that time when he was slain) they found spinning with women, hauing a Distaffe in his hand, wherewith they vse to spinne: and truly his vile death was too good for such a cowardly King: For the Prince ought not to de­fend that with the Distaffe, that his Predecessors had wonne with the sword.

As wee haue sayde Nimrod begat Belus, who had to wife Semyramis, which was the mother of Ninus, which Ninus succeeded his Father in tyranny, and in the Empire also: and both the Mother and the Sonne not contented to bee tyrants, inuented statues of new Gods: For mans malice pursueth rather the euill, which the wicked doe inuent, then the good which vertuous men begin.

We would haue shewed you, how the Grandfather, and the Father, the Mother and the Sonne, were Idola­ters and warlike, to the end Princes and great Lords might see, that they beganne their Empires, more for that they were ambitious persons, then for that they were good, patient, or vertuous men. Albeit that Nimrod was the first that euer committed any tyranny, and whether it bee true or not that Belus was the first that in­uented warres, and that Chodor Laor­mor was the first that inuented bat­tels, and that there bee others, wher­of the Writings make no mention, e­uery man taking for himselfe, and af­terwards all together: those vvere occasions of euil enough in the world to agree vnto those thinges. Our inclination is greatly to bee blamed: For those which haue credite for their euill, are many: and those which haue power to doe well, are but very few.

CHAP. XXXI. Of the golden age in times past, and worldly misery which we haue at this present.

IN the first age, and golden world, all liued in peace, each man tooke care for his owne landes, e­uery one planted & sowed their trees, and corne, euery one gathered his fruites, and cut his vines, knedde their bread, and brought vp their children, and finally, all liued by their own pro­per sweate and trauell; so that they all liued without the preiudice or hurt of any other.

O worldly malice, O cursed and wicked world, that thou neuer suffe­rest things to remaine in one estate, and though I call thee cursed, mar­uell not thereat: for when wee are in most prosperity, then thou with death persecutest vs most cruelly.

Without teares, I say not that I will say, that two thousand yeares of the World were past before we knew what the World meant: God suffe­ring The muta­bility of the World. it, and worldly malice inuented it, ploughes were turned into wea­pons, oxen to horses, goades vnto launces, whips to arrowes, slings to Crossebowes, simplicity into malice, trauell into idlenesse, rest to paine, peace to warre, loue to hatted, chari­ty to cruelty, iustice to tyranny, pro­fite to dammage, almes to theft, and aboue all, Faith into Idolatry.

And finally, the swet they had to profite in their owne goods, they turned to bloud-shedding, to the da­mage of the Common-wealth. And herein the World sheweth it selfe to bee a world: herein worldly-malice sheweth it selfe to bee malicious, in so much as the one reioyceth, and the other lamenteth: the one reioy­ceth to stumble, to the end that other may fall and breake their neckes, the one reioyceth to bee poore, to the end the other may not bee rich: the one reioyceth to bee dispraysed, to the end the other may not be honou­red: the one delighteth to bee sad, to the end the other should not bee merry: And to conclude, wee are so wicked, that wee banish the good from our owne house, to the end the euill might enter in at the gates of an other man.

When the Creator created the whole World, hee gaue to each thing immediately his place: that is to say, hee placed intelligence in the vppermost Heauen: hee placed the starres in the Firmament, the pla­nets in the orbes: the birdes in the ayre: the earth on the Center, the Fishes in the Water, the Serpents in the hoales, the beasts in the moun­taines: and to all in generall, he gaue place to rest themselues in.

Now let Princes and great Lords bee vaine-glorious, saying, that they they are Lords of the earth: for tru­ly of all that is created, God onely is the true Lord thereof; because the miserable man for his part hath but the vse of the fruit: for if wee thinke it reasonable that wee should enioy the profite of that which is created: then were it more conuenient wee should acknowledge God to be the Lord thereof.

I doe not deny, but confesse, that God created all things, to the God made al things for the vse of man. end they should serue man vpon con­dition, that man should serue God likewise: but when the creature ry­seth against God, immediately the Creator resisteth against man.

For it is but reason that hee bee [Page 95] disobeyed, who one onely comman­dement will not obey.

O what euill fortune hath the cre­ature, onely for disobeying the com­mandement of his Creator: for if man had kept his commaundement in Paradise, God had conserued to the World the signorie: but the Creatures whom he created for his seruice are occasion to him of great troubles: for the ingratitude of be­nefite heapeth great sorrow to the discreet heart. It is great pity to be­hold the man that was in Paradise, and that might haue been in Heauen: and now to see him in the world, and aboue all to bee interred in the en­trals of the earth: For in Terrestrial Paradise he was innocent, and in hea­uen he had been blessed; but now he is in the world, enuironed with cares, and afterwards he shall bee throwne into his graue, and gnawne of the Wormes. Let vs now see the disobe­dience wee had in the commaunde­ment What man loft by A­dams fall. of God, and what fruit we haue gathered in the world. For hee is very simple that dare commit any vice, taking no delight nor pleasure thereof in his body. In my opinion through the sinnes which our fore­fathers committed in Paradise, the seruitude remaineth in vs their chil­dren which are on the earth. For so much as if I enter into the water, I drowne, if I touch the fire I burne, if I come neare a dogge, hee biteth mee, if I threaten a horse, hee easteth mee, if I resist the winde it bloweth me downe, if I persecute the serpent, hee spoyleth me, if I smite the beare hee destroyeth me, and to be briefe I say, that the man that without pit­ty eateth men in his life, the Worms shall eate his entrals in his life after his death.

O Princes and great Lords, lode your selues with cloth of gold, heape vp your great Treasures, assemble many Armies, inuent Iusts and tur­neis, seeke pastimes and pleasures, reuenge your selues of your ene­mies, serue your selues with your subiects, marry your children to mighty Kings, and set them in great estate: cause your selues to bee feared of your enemies, imploy your bodies to all pleasures, leaue great possessions to your heyres, rayse sumptuous buildinges to leaue me­mory of your persons: I sweare by him that shall iudge mee, 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 vanish away, and they shall leaue you for a gage to the hun­gry wormes of the earth.

O if Princes did consider (though they haue beene borne Princes, cre­ated A warning for all sorts of people. and nourished in great estates) that the day they are borne, death immediately commeth to seeke the end of their life, and taketh them here and there when they are sicke, now tumbling, then rising; hee neuer lea­ueth them one houre vntill their wo­full buriall: Therefore sith it is true, (as indeed it is) that that which Prin­ces possesse in this life is but small, & that which they hope in the other is so great: Truely I maruell why Prin­ces, the which shall lye so straight in the graue, dare lye in such and so great largenesse in their life. To be rich, to be Lords, and to haue great e­states, men should not thereof at all bee proude, since they see how frayle mans condition is: for in the end life is but lone, but death is enheritage. Death is a patrimony and heritage, which successiuely is inherited: but life is a right which dayly is surrende­red. For death counteth vs so much his own, that oft times vnawares, hee Nothing so sure as death. commeth to assault vs: & life taketh vs such strangers, that oft times we not doubting thereof, it vanisheth away [Page 95] If this thing then bee true, why will Princes and great Lords presume to commaund a strange house, which is this life, as in their owne house which is the graue? Leauing aside the sayd opinions, I say that for sinne onely scruitude came to dwell in vs, and en­tered into the world: for if there had beene no sinners, wee ought to be­leeue there had beene no Lords, nor seruants. For asmuch as seruitude generally entreth into this World through sinne: I say that the Seig­niory of Princes is by the diuine com­maundement; for he sayeth: By mee the King doth gouerne, and by mee the Prince doth minister Iustice.

I conclude in this sort, with this reason: That since it is true, Princes are sent by the hands of God for to go­uerne vs, Wee are bound in all, and for The reason wee haue to obey our Prince. all to obey them: for there is no greater plague in a publike weale, then to be dis­obedient to the Prince.

CHAP. XXXII. How King Alexander the great, after hee had ouercome King Datius in A­sia, went to conquer the great Indea, and of that which happned vnto him with the Garamantes, and how the good life hath more power then any force of warre.

IN the yeare of the Creation of the World, 4970. in the first age of the World, and in the 4027. yeares of the foundation of Rome, Iado being High Priest in Hierusa­lew, Decius and Mamilius at Rome Consuls, in the third yeare of the Monarchie of the Greekes, Alexan­der the Great (sonne to Philip King of Macedonia) gaue the last battell to Darius King of Persia, wherein King Alexander escaped very sore woun­ded, and Darius slaine, so that the whole Empire of the Persians came vnder the gouernment of the Greeks: For the vnfortunate Princes do not onely lose their liues with which they came into the world, but also the Realmes which they did inherite.

After that Darius was dead, and Alexander saw himselfe Lord of the field, and that the Persians and Medes were become subiect to the Grecians, though many Kings and Lords dyed in those cruell batailes: yet it seemed to Alexander a trifle to be Gouernor of all Asia, wherefore he determined in person to goe conquere the great India. For, Proude and stoute hearts obtayning that which they desire, imme­diately beginne to esteeme it as little. All The pride of Alexan­der. his Armies repayred, and placing go­uernours in all the Realme of Asia, A­lexander departed to conquere the great India: for hee had promised & sworne to his gods, that through all the World there should be but one Empire, and that that should be his: and moreouer that hee would neuer passe thorow any strange Realme or Country, but it should giue obedi­ence vnto him, or else forthwith hee would destroy it: for tyrannous harts haue neuer any regard to the damage of another, vntill they haue obtained their wicked desires.

Alexander then going to con­quer Realmes, and destroy Prouin­ces: by chance one sayde vnto him, That on the other side of the mountaine Riphei (towards the partes of India) was a barbarous Nation which were called Garamantes, as yet neuer con­quered by the Persians and Medes, Ro­maines, nor Greekes, neyther any of them euer triumphed ouer them: for they had no weapons, nor esteemed them not, [Page 97] sith they had no riches.

King Alexander, (who for to con­quer and subdue Realmes and strange countreys was very diligent & hardy and to see new things very desirous,) determined, not onely to send to see that countrey, but also to goe himselfe in person, and in that place to leaue of him some Memoriall: which thing forthwith he accomplished. For hee left them Altares, as Hercules left in Gades, pillars. For mans heart is so stout, that it Trauelleth not onely to compare with manie, but also to ex­cell all.

The Embassadours of Alexander were sent to Garamantes, to aduertise them of the comming of King Alex­ander the great, & of the terrible and cruell battells, which he in the warres had ouercome: and to declare vnto them how the puissant K: Darius was slayne, and that all Asia was vnder his subiection, and how euery Citie did yeelde themselues: against whom he neyther lifted speare nor sword, be­cause all yeelded to his cōmandment. With these and such other like things they would haue feared them, for that words oft times maketh men more a­fraide, especially when they are spo­ken of braue stoute men, then doe the swords of cowards.

Lucius Bosco saith, in his third booke of the antiquityes of the Grecians, (of whom the originall of this hystorie is drawne) that after the Embassadours of Alexander had spoken to the Gara­mantes, they were nothing at all trou­bled for the message, neither did they fly away from Alexander, nor they pre­pared any warre, neyther tooke they in hand any weapon, nor yet they did resist him, Yea, and the chiefest of all was, that no man of the Countrey e­uer departed out of his house.

Finally, they neyther answered the Ambassadors (of Alexander,) to theyr right message, nor yet spake one word vnto them, concerning their coming. And truly the Garamantes had reason therein, and did in that right wisely: For it is but meere follie for a man to perswade those men with words who enterprise any thing of will.

It is a maruellous matter to heare reported the hystories of these Gara­mantes, (that is to say) that all theyr houses were of equall height, all men were apparelled alike, the one had no more authority then another, in fee­ding they were no glouttons, in drin­king wine they were temperate, con­cerning pleas and debates, they were ignorant, they would suffer no idle man to liue among them, they had no weapons, because they had no ene­myes: and generally, they spake few words, but that which they spake was alwayes true.

King Alexander being somwhat in­formed of those Garamantes, and their life, determined to send for them, and called them before his presence, and instantly desired them (if they had a­ny wise men among them, to bring them vnto him, and by writing or by word of mouth, to speake somewhat vnto him. For Alexander was such a friend to sage men, that all the realms which he ouercame, immediately he gaue to his men, excepting the Sages, which he kept for his owne person.

Quintus Curtius, by king Alexander sayth, that a Prince doth wel spende his treasors to conquer many Realms, only to haue the conuersation of one wise man. And truely he had reason: for to princes it is more profit in their life to bee accompanied with Sages: then after their deaths, to leaue great treasours to their heires. Certaine of those Garamantes thē being come be­fore the presence of Alex: the great, one among them (as they thoght the most ancientst) himselfe alone (the re­sidue keeping silence,) in the name of them all spake these words.

CHAP. XXXIII. Of an Oration which one of the Sages of Garamantia made vnto King Alexander, a goodly lesson for all ambitious men,

IT is a custome, king Alexander, amongst vs Garamantes, to speake seldome one to another, & scar­sely neuer speake to strangers, especially if they be busie and vnquiet men: For, the tongue of an euil man is no other but a plaine demonstration of his en­uious heart.

When they tolde vs of thy com­ming into this countrey, immediately wee determined not to goe out to re­ceyue thee, nor to prepare our selues to resist thee, neyther to lifte vp our eyes to beholde thee, nor to open our mouthes to salute thee, neyther to moue our hands to trouble thee, nor yee to make warre to offend thee. For greater is the hate that we beare to ri­ches and honours, which thou louest, then the loue is that thou hast to de­stroy men, and subdue Countreyes, which we abhorre.

It hath pleased thee we shuld see thee, not desiring to see thee, and wee haue obeied thee, not willing to obey thee, and that we should salute thee, not de­sirous to salute thee: wherewith wee are contented, vppon condition, that thou be patient to heare vs. For that which we will say vnto thee, shall tend more vnto amendmēt of thy life, then to disswade thee frō conquering our countrey. For it is reason that Princes which shal come hereafter doe know, why wee liuing so little, esteeme that which is our owne: and why thou dy­ing, takest such paines to possesse that which is another mans.

O Alexander, I aske thee one thing, and I doubt whether thou canst aun­swer me thereunto or no? For those hearts which are proud, are also most commonly blinded.

Tell me whether thou goest? from whence thou commest? what thou meanest? what thou thinkest? what thou desirest? what thou seekest? what thou demandest? what thou searchest? A compen­dious reprehension. and what thou procurest? and further, to what Realms & Prouinces thy dis­ordinate appetite extendeth? With­out a cause do I not demand thee this question, what is that thou demandest and what it is that thou seekest: For I think thou thy selfe knowest not what thou wouldest? For proud and ambi­cious hearts know not what will satis­fie them. Sith thou art ambitious, ho­nor deceiueth thee: sith thou art pro­digall, couetousnes beguyleth thee: sith thou art yong, ignorance abuseth thee: and sith thou art proude, all the world laugheth thee to scorne: in such sort, that thou followest men and not reason: thou followest thine owne o­pinion, and not the counsell of an o­ther, thou embracest flatterers, and re­pulsest vertuous men. For Princes and Noble men had rather bee commen­ded with lyes, thē to be reproued with truth. I cannot tell to what ende you Princes liue so deceyued, and abused, to haue & keepe in your pallaces more flattrers, iuglers, and fooles, then wise and sage men. For in a princes pallace if there bee any which extolleth theyr doings, there are ten thousand which abhorre their tyrannies. I perceiue by these deeds (Alexander) that the gods will sooner end thy life, then then wilt end thy wars. The man that is brought vp in debates, discentions, and strife, all his felicitie consisteth in burning, destroying, and bloud shedding: I see thee defended with weapōs, I see thee accōpanied with tirants, I see thee rob the tēples. I se thee without profit wast the treasors, I see thee murder the In­nocent [Page 99] and trouble the patient, I see thee euill willed of all, and beloued of none, which is the greatest euill of all euils. Therefore how were it possible for thee to endure such and so great trauels, vnlesse thou art a foole, or else because God hath ap­pointed it to chastice thee.

The Gods suffer oftentimes that men being quiet. should haue some weighty affayres, and that is not for that they should be honoured: at this present, but to the end they should be punished for that which is past.

Tell mee I pray thee, peraduen­ture it is no great folly to empouerish many, to make thy selfe alone rich? It is not (peraduenture) folly that one should commaund by tyranny, and that all the rest lose the possession of their Seigniory. It is not folly per­chance to loue (to the damnation of our soules) many memories in the world of our body. It is not folly perchance that the Gods approue thy disordinate appetite alone, and condemne the will and opinion of all the World beside: peraduenture it is not folly, to winne with the tears of the poore, and comfortlesse wid­dowes) so great and bloudy victories: peraduenture it is no folly, willingly to wet the earth with the bloud of In­nocents, onely to haue a vaine glorie in this World? Thou thinkest it no folly peraduenture (God hauing di­uided the World into so many peo­ple) that thou shouldest vsurpe them to thee alone? O Alexander, Alexan­der, truly such workes proceede not from a creature nourished among men on the earth: but rather of one that hath beene brought vp among the infernall Furies of Hell: for wee are not bound to iudge men by the How wee ought to iudge of men. good nature they haue: but by their good and euill works which they do.

The man is cursed (if hee haue not been cursed, hee shalbe cursed) that li­ueth to the preiudice of all others in this world present, onely to be coun­ted couragious, stoute, and hardie, in time to come. For the gods seldome suffered them to enioy that quietly in peace, which they haue gotten vniust­ly in the warres.

I would aske thee, what insolencie moued thee to reuolte against the lord K. Darius? after whose death thou hast sought to conquer all the world? and thus thou doest not as a King that is an inhertitor, but as a tyrant, that is an oppressor, For him properly we cal a tirant, that without iustice & reason taketh that which is another mans.

Eyther thou searchest iustic, or thou searchest peace, or else thou searchest riches, and our honor? Thou searchest rest, or els thou searchest fauour of thy frends, or thou searchest vengeance of The proper­tie of a ty­rant. thine enemies. But I sweare vnto thee (Alex:) that thou shalt not find any of all these things, if thou seekest by this meanes, as thou hast begun: For the sweet Sugar is not of the nature of the bitter gumbe. How shall wee belieue thou searchest iustice, sith against rea­son and iustice, by Tiranny thou rulest al the earth? how shal we belieue thou searchest peace, sith thou causest them to pay tribute which receiue thee: and those which resist thee, thou handlest thē like enemies? How can we belieue that thou searchest rest, sith thou trou­blest all the world? How can wee be­lieue thou searchest gentiles, sith thou art the scourge and sword of humaine frailnes? how can we belieue that thou searchest riches, sith thine owne Trea­sures suffiseth thee not: neyther that which by thee vāquished cōmeth into thy hands, nor that which the conque rors offer thee? How shall we belieue thou searchest profit to thy friēds, sith that of thy old friends, thou hast made new enemies? I let thee vnderstand (A­lex:) that the greatest ought to teache the least, & the least to obey the greatst

[Page 100] And Friendship is onely amongst equalls. But thou, (sith thou sufferest none in the World to bee equall and like vnto thee, looke not thou to haue any Friend in the world. For Princes oftentimes by ingratitude loose faith­full Friends: and by ambition winne mortall enemies.

How shall we belieue thou searchest reuēge of thine enemies, sith thou ta­kest more vengeance of thy selfe, bee­ing aliue, then thine enemyes would take of thee, if they tooke thee priso­ner? though perchance in times past they vsed thy Father Philip euill, and haue now disobeyed thee his Sonne: It were farre better counsel for thee to make them thy Friends by gentlenes, then to confirme them Enemyes by crueltie. For the Noble and pitifull harts when they are reuenged of any, make of themselues a butcherie.

Wee cannot with truth say, that thy Trauells are well employde to winne such honor, sith thy conuersation and life is so vnconstant? For truely ho­nour consisteth not in that Flatterers say, but in that which Lords doe. For the great Familiaritie of the wicked, causeth the life to be suspected.

Honour is not gotten by liberall giuing of Treasours at his death, but by spen­ding it well in his life: For it is a suffi­cient In what true Honor consisteth. profe, that the man which esteemeth renowme, doth little regard Money: and it is an apparant token, that man who lit­tle esteemeth Money, greatly regardeth his renowme.

A man winneth not honor by murde­ring Innocents, but by destroying Ty­rants: for all the harmony of the good gouernment of princes is, in the chasti­sing How a Prince must winne ho­nour. of the euil, & rewarding the good.

Honour is not wonne in taking and snatching the goods of an other, but in giuing and spending his owne.

For there is nothing that beautifieth the Maiestie of a Prince more, then for to shew his noblenes in extending mercie and fauour vnto his subiects, and giuing gifts and rewards to the vertuous.

And to conclude, I will let thee know who hee is, that winneth true honour in this life: and also: a perpetuall me­morie after his death: and that is not hee which leadeth his life in Warres, but hee that taketh his death in peace.

O Alexander, I see thou art young, and that thou desirst honour, where­fore I let thee vnderstand, that there is no man farther from true honor, then hee which greedily procureth and de­sireth the same. For the ambitious men, not obtaining what they desire, remaine alwaies defamed, and in win­ning and getting that which they search, true honour notwithstanding will not follow them.

Belieue mee in one thing Alexan­der, that the most truest honor ought through worthie deedes to bee deser­ued, and by no meanes to bee procu­red: For all the honour which by tyrannie is wonne, in the ende by in­famy is lost.

I am sorrie for thee Alexander: For How true honour is wonne. I see thou wantest Iustice, since thou louest Tyrannie: I see thou lackest peace, because thou louest warre: I see thou art not Rich, because thou hast made all the world poore: I see thou lackest rest, because thou seekest contention and debate: I see thou hast no honour, because thou win­nest it by infamie: I see thou wantest friends, because thou hast made them thine enemies.

Finally, I see thou doest not reuenge thy selfe of thine enemyes, because thou art (as they wold be) the scourge to thy selfe.

Then since it is so; why art thou a­liue in this World, sith thou lackest vertues, for the which life ought to be desired? For truely that man, which without his owne profite, and to the dam­mage of an other leadeth his life, by Iustice ought forthwith to lose his breath.

[Page 101] For there is nothing that sooner de­stroyeth the Weale publike, then to permit vnprofitable men therein to liue.

Therefore speaking the truth, you Lords and Princes are but poore, I beleeue thou conquerest the World, because thou knowest not thy superi­our therein: and besides that, thou wilt take life from so many, to the end that by their death thou mayest win renowne.

If cruell and warlike Princes (as thou art) should inherite the liues of them whom they slay, to augment & prolong their liues, as they doe inhe­rite goods to maintaine their pride, although it were vnmeete, then warre were tollerable,

But what profiteth the seruant to lose his life this day, and his Masters death to bee differred but vntill the The pro­pertie of a wise man. morrow? O Alexander, to be desi­rous to commaund much, hauing re­spite to liue but little: mee thinketh it were a great folly and lacke of wis­dome. Presumptuous and ambiti­ous men which measure their works not with the few dayes they haue to liue, but with the arogant and haugh­ty thoughts they haue to command: They leade their life in trauell, and take their death with sorrow. And the remedy hereof is, that if the wise man cannot obtaine that which hee would, hee should content himselfe with that which hee may.

I let thee to know 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 trauell much, to possesse much, and to bee able to do much: but it is to bee in the fauour of the Gods.

Finally, I tell thee, that that man is perfect, who in his owne opinion deserueth not that hee hath, and in the opinion of another, deserueth much more then that hee possesseth. Wee are of this opinion amongst vs, that hee is vnworthy to haue honour, who by such infamous meanes sear­cheth for it. And therefore thou, Alexander, deseruest to be slaue vnto many, because thou thinkest to de­serue the signory ouer all. By the immortall Gods I sweare, I cannot imagine the great mischiefe which entred into thy brest, so vnrighteously to kill King Darius (whose vassall and friend thou wast onely) because thou wouldest possesse the Empire of the whole World? For truly seruitude in peace is more worth then Signiory in warre. And hee that shall speake against that I haue spoken, I say he, is sicke, and hath lost his taste.

CHAP. XXXIIII. The sage Garamante continueth his Oration, shewing that perpetuitie of life cannot be bought with any world­ly treasure. Among other notable mat­ters hee maketh mention of the seuen lawes which they obserued.

THou wilt not deny me Alexander, but What mean a wise man should vse. that thou werte more healthfull when thou wast King of Macedo­ [...] then thou art now being Lord of all the earth: for the excessiue trauell bringeth men out of all order.

Thou wilt not deny me Alexander, that the more thou gettest, the more thou desirest: for the heart which with couetousnesse is set on fire, can­not with wood and bowes of riches, [Page 102] but with the earth of the graue be sa­tisfied and quenched.

Thou wilt not deny me (Alex­ander) but the aboundance that thou thy selfe hast, seemeth vnto thee litle, and the little which an other man possesseth, seemeth vnto thee much: For the Gods, to the ambitious, and couetous harts gaue this for penance that neyther with inough, nor with too much they should content them selues.

Thou wilt not denie mee (Alex­ander) if in deed thy heart bee coue­tous, that first the pleasures of life shall end before thy couetousnesse: for where vices haue had power long time in the heart, there death, one­ly, and none other hath authority to plucke vp the rootes.

Thou wilt not deny mee (Alexan­der) that though thou hast more then all, yet thou enioyest least of any: for the Prince that possesseth much, is alwayes occupied in defending it: but The greedy desires of man neuer satisfied. the Prince that hath little, hath Time and leasure in quiet to enioy it.

Thou wilt not deny me (Alexan­der) though thou callest thy self Lord of all, yet thou hast but onely the name thereof, and others thy seruants and subiects haue all the profites: for the greedy and couetous hearts doe trauel and toyle to get, and in wasting that which they haue gotten, they pine away.

And finally (Alexander) thou wilt not deny me, that all that which thou hast in the long conquest gotten, is little, and that which of thy wisedom and quietnes thou hast lost, is much: For the Realms which thou hast got­ten are innumerable, but the cares, sighes and thoughts which thou hast heaped vpon thy heart, are innu­merable.

I let thee know one thing, that you Princes are poorer then the poore Subiects: for hee is not rich that hath more then hee deserueth, but he that desireth to haue lesse then possesseth. And that therefore Prin­ces you haue nothing: For though you abound in great Treasurs, yet not­withstanding, you are poore of good desire.

Now Alexander, let vs come to the poynt, and cast account, and let vs see The man is happie that hath con­tent. vs see to what ende thy Conquest will come? Either thou art a man, or thou art a god; And if thou bee anie of the gods, commaunde, or cause that wee be immortall: and if thou canst doe any such thing, then take vs and our goods withall. For perpetuity of the life, can by no riches be bought.

O Alexander, I let thee vnderstand, that therefore wee seeke not to make warre with thee: For we see that both from thee, and also from vs, death will shortly take away the life. For hee is a very simple man, that thinketh alwayes to remaine in another mans house as in his owne.

It thou Alexander, couldst giue vs, (as God) euerlasting life, eache man would trauell to defend his owne house; But sith we know we shall dye shortly, we care little whether to thee or any other, our goods and riches remaine. For if it be follie to dwell in an other mans house as his owne, it is a greater follie to him that loseth his life, in taking thought and lamenting for his goods.

Presuppose that thou art not god, but a man; I coniure thee then, by the immortall gods, and doe require thee that thou liue as a man, behaue thy selfe as a man, and couet no more then an other man, neyther desire How a man ought to conceyue of himselfe. more nor lesse then a man: for in the ende thou shalt dye as another man, and shalt be buryed as another man, and thou shalt bee throwne into the graue, and then there shalbe no more memorie of thee.

I tolde thee before that it greeued [Page 103] mee to see thee so hardy and coura­gious, so apt and so young, and now it grieueth mee to see thee so decey­ued with the world: and that which I perceyue of thee is, that then thou shalt know thy folly when thou shalt not be able to finde any remedy. For the proude Young man before hee feeleth the wound hath alreadie the ointment.

You which are Grecians call vs Barbarous, because wee enhabite the mountaines.

But as touching this I say, that we reioice to be barbarous in our speech and Greekes in our doings: and not as you which haue the Grecian tong, and doe barbarous workes.

For hee that doth well, and spea­keth rudely, is no barbarous man: but he which hath the tongue good, and the life euill. Sith I haue begun to that end nothing remaine vnspo­ken, I will aduertise thee of our laws and life, and maruell not to heare it, but desire to obserue and keepe it: for infinite are they which extoll vertu­ous workes, but few are they which obserue the same.

I let thee know (Alexander) that wee haue short life, wee are few peo­ple, wee haue little lands, wee haue little goods, wee haue no couetous­nes, we haue few lawes, we haue few houses, and we haue few friends, and aboue all we haue no enemies: for a Wise man ought to be friend to one, and enemie to none.

Besides all this, wee haue amongst vs great friendshippes, good peace, great loue: much rest, and aboue all, wee holde our selues contented: for it is better to enioy the quietnesse of the graue, then to liue a discontented life.

Our Lawes are few, but in our o­pinions they are good, and are in se­uen words onely included as here followeth.

Wee ordaine that our children make no more Lawes then wee their Fathers doe leaue vnto them: for new Lawes maketh them to forget good and ancient The lawes of the Ga­ramantes. customes.

We ordaine that our Successors shall haue no moe Gods then two, of the which the one God shall bee for the life, and the other for the death: for one God well serued is more worth, then many not regarded

Wee ordaine that all bee apparrel­led with one cloath, and hosed of one sort, and that the one haue no more ap­parrell then the other: for the diuersity of garments engendreth folly among the people.

Wee ordaine that when any woman which is maried hath had three children that then shee bee separated from her husband, for the aboundance of children causeth men to haue couetous hearts. And if any woman hath brought forth any mo children, then they should bee sacrificed vnto the Gods before her eyes.

We ordaine that all men and women speake the truth in all things, and if any bee taken in a lye, committing no other fault, that immediately hee bee put to death for the same: For one lyer is able to vndoe a whole multitude.

We ordaine that no woman liue aboue forty yeares, and that the man liue vntil fifty, and if they dye not before that time that then they be sacrificed to the Gods: for it is a great occasion for men to bee vicious, to thinke that they shall liue ma­ny yeares.

CHAP, XXXV. That Princes ought to consider, for what cause they were made Princes, and what Thales the Philosopher was, of the 12. questions asked him, and of his answere he made vnto them.

IT is a common and olde saying (which many times by Ari­stotle the noble and vertuous Prince hath beene repea­ted) That in the end all thinges are done to some purpose: for there is no worke neyther good nor euil [...] but he that doth it, meaneth to some end.

If thou demaundest the Garde­ner to what end he watereth so oft his plants, hee will answere thee, it is to get some money for his hearbes. If thou demaundest why the riuer run­neth so swift, a man will answere thee, that it his to the end it should returne from whence it came.

If thou demaundest why the trees budde in the spring time, they will answere, to the end they may beare fruite in haruest. If wee see a traueller passe the mountaines in the snow, the riuers with perill, the woods in feare, What gifts God be­stoweth vp on Princes, aboue other men. to walke in extreame heate in Som­mer, to wander in the night time in the colde winter: and if by chance a man doth aske one of them saying: Friend, whether goest thou, wherefore takest thou such paines? And hee aun­swereth, Truly sir, I know no more then you to what end, neyther can I tell why I take such paines. I aske thee now, what a wise man would answere to this innocent Traueller? Truly (hea­ring no more) hee would iudge him to bee a foole: for he is much infor­tunate, that for all his trauell looketh for no reward. Therefore to our matter, a Prince which is begotten as an other man, borne as an other man, liueth as an other man, dyeth as an other man: And besides all this commaundeth all men, if of such a one wee should demaund, why God gaue him signiory, and that he should answere hee knoweth not, but that he was borne vnto it.

In such case let euery man iudge, how vnworthy such a King is to haue such authority. For it is vnpossible for a man to minister iustice, vnlesse hee knew before what iustice mea­neth.

Let Princes and noble men heare this word, & imprint it in their me­mory, which is, that when the liuing God determined to make Kings and Lords in this world: hee did not or­daine them to eate more then others, to drinke more then others, to sleepe more then others, to speake more thē others, nor to reioyce more then o­thers: but hee created them vpon condition, that sith he had made thē to commaund more then others, they should be more iust in their liues thē others.

It is a thing most vniust, and in the Common wealth very slaunde­rous, to see with what authority a puissant man commandeth those that bee vertuous: and with how much shame, himselfe is bound to all vices. I know not what Lord he is that dare punish his subiect for one onely of­fence committed, seeing himselfe to deserue for euery deede to bee cha­stised: For it is a monstrous thing, that a blinde man should take vpon him to leade him that seeth.

They demaunded great Cato the Censor what a King ought to doe, that he should be beloued, feared, and not despised; he answered, The good Prince should be compared to him that selleth Tryacle, who if the poyson [Page 105] What is required in a Prince. hurteth him not, hee selleth bis Triacle well, I mean therby, that the punish­ment is takē in good part of the peo­ple, which is not ministred by the vi­tious man: For hee that maketh the Tryacle shall neuer bee credited, vn­lesse the proofe of his Triacle bee o­penly knowne and tryed: I meane that the good life is none other then a fine Triacle to cure the Common­wealth. And to whome is he more like, which with his tongue blazeth vertues, and imployeth his deedes to all vices: then vnto the man, who in the one hand holdeth poyson to take away life; and in the other Triacle to resist death? To the end that a Lord bee wholy obeyed, it is necessary that all that he commaundeth bee obser­ued, first in his owne person: for no Lord can nor may withdraw himselfe from vertuous works.

This was the answere that Cato the Censor gaue, which in mine opi­nion was spoken more like a Christi­an then any Romane.

When the true God came into the World, he employed 30. yeares onely in workes, and spent but two yeares and a halfe in teaching: For mans heart is perswaded more with the worke hee seeketh, then with the word which hee heareth. Those ther­fore which are Lords, let them learne and know of him which is the true Lord, 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 say to gouern well his people, to command well, and to maintaine all in iustice, and this should not bee with words, to make them afrayde, neyther by works which should offend them: but by sweet words which should encou­rage them, and by the good workes that should edifie them: for the no­ble and gentle heart cannot resist, him, that with a louing countenance commaundeth, Those which will rule and make tame, fierce, and wilde beasts, do threaten and rebuke them a hundred times, before they beate them once: and if they keepe them tyed, they shew them sundrie plea­sures: So that the wildnesse of the beast is taken away, onely by the gen­tle and pleasant vsage of the man, ther­fore sith wee haue this experience of brute & sauage beasts (that is to say) that by their well doing, and by the gentle handling of them, they volun­tarily suffer themselues to bee gouer­ned: much more experience we rea­sonable men ought to haue, that is to know, that being right and well gouerned, wee should humbly, and willingly obey our soueraigne Lords: for there is no man so hard hearted, but by gentle vsage will humble him­selfe.

O Princes and noble men, I will tell you in one word, what the Lorde ought to doe in the gouernement of his common-wealth.

Euery Prince that hath his mouth full of truth, his hands open to giue rewards, and his eares stopped vnto lyes, and his heart open to mercy, such a one is happy, and the realme which hath him, may well bee called prosperous, and the people may call themselues fortunate: For where as truth, liberality, and clemency ruleth in the hart of a Prince, there wrongs, iniuries, & oppressions do not raigne. And contrariwise, where the Prince hath his heart fleshed in cruelty, his mouth full of tyrannies, his hands de­filed with bloud, and enclineth his eares to heare lyes: such a Prince is vnhappy, and much more the people the which by such a one is gouerned: for it is vnpossible that there is peace and iustice in the common wealth, if hee which gouerneth it, bee a louer of lyes and flatteries.

[Page 106] In the yeare 440. before the In­carnation of Christ, which was in the year 244. of the foundation of Rome: Darius the fourth being King of Per­sia, and Brutus and Lucius at Rome Consuls, Thales the great Philoso­pher flourished in Greece, who was Prince of the seuen renowmed Sa­ges: by the which occasion, all the What time Thales the Philosopher flourished. Realme of Greece had, and recouered renowne: For Greece boasted more of the seuen Sages which they had, then Rome did of all the valiant Cap­tains shee nourished.

There was at that time much con­tention betweene the Romanes and the Greekes, for so much as the Greekes sayd, they were better, because they had more Sages, and the Romanes said the contrary, that they were bet­ter, because they had alwayes more Armies.

The Greekes replyed againe, that there were no lawes made but in Greece. And the Romanes to this aunswered, that though they were made in Greece, yet they were obser­ued at Rome. The Greekes sayde, that they had great Vniuersities to make Wise men in. And the Romanes said, that they had many great temples to worship their Gods in: for that in the end they ought to esteeme more one seruice done to the immortall Gods, then all the other commodi­ties that might come vnto men.

A Thebane Knight was demaun­ded, what hee thought of Rome and Greece: and hee answered, mee thin­keth the Romanes are no better then the Greekes, nor the Greekes then the Romanes: For the Greekes glory in their tongues, and the Romanes in their Launces: but we referre it to vertuous works: For one good worke is more worth, then eyther the long staues of the Romanes, or the eloquēt tongues of the Greekes,

Therfore touching my matter, this Philosopher Thales was the first that found the Pole (called the North Thales the first that found out the North starre. starre) to sayle by, and the first that found the deuision of the yeares, the quantitie of the Sun and the Moone, and the first that sayde soules were immortall, and that the World had a soule. And aboue all, hee would neuer marry; for the care to content a wife, and the thought to bring vp the children, doth much dull the wits of wise men.

This Philosopher Thales was very poore, wherefore (some disdayning him for his pouerty) to declare and shew that he was more rich then all they: hee bought the next yeare all the Oliues hee could get: for by A­stronomy hee knew that in the thirde yeare there would be a great want & scarsitie thereof throughout all the Country: Wherefore all were com­pelled to come to him for Oliues, which at his owne price he solde: & in this sort he shewed them that moc­ked him, that he willingly despised riches, and louingly embraced pouer­tie: For, he that willingly in this world is poore, ought not to be called poore.

This Philosopher Thales was a Mirror amongst the Sages of Greece, and was greatly reuerenced of al the Kings of Asia, and highly renowmed in Rome.

And further he was so wise, and had so ready a wit, that to all sodaine questions hee was demaunded, hee gaue present aunswere forthwith, which thing declared him to bee of a maruellous wit, and truely it was a great matter: for the most part of mortall men cannot tell how to an­swere, nor what to demaund.

Many and diuers questions wee asked him, as Diogenes Laertius affir­meth, in the answering whereof hee shewed great wisdome, the treasure of memory, and subtilty of vnderstan­ding.

[Page 107] First, he was asked, What GOD was? Thales answered; Of all the most anti­quities, GOD is the most auncient thing. For all the Ancients past neyther sawe him take beginning, nor those which shal come, shall see him haue ending. Questions resolued by Thaks.

Secondarily, hee was asked, What thing was most beautifull: he answered, The world: because no Artificiall payn­ting could make the like.

Thirdly he was asked, What was the greatest thing: To that hee answered, Place, wherein all things doe stand. For the place which containeth all, of necessitie must be greater then all.

Fourthly, it was asked him, Who knoweth most: he answered, That no man was wiser then Time, because Time alwayes onely inuented new things; and is he which renueth the olde.

Fiftly, they asked him, What was the lightest thing? hee answered, the wit of man, because that without trauel and dan­ger it passeth the Sea, to discouer and com­passe all the whole earth.

Sixtly, they asked him, What was the strongest thing: he said, That man that is in necessitie: For necessitie reuiueth the vnderstanding of the rude, and cau­seth the coward to be hardy in perill.

Seuenthly, they asked him, What was the hardest thing to know? hee an­swered, for man to know himselfe: For there should bee no contentions in the world, if man knew himselfe.

Eightly, they asked him, What thing was sweetest to obtaine: hee answered, Desire: For the man reioyceth to remem­ber the paines past, and to obtayne to that he desireth present.

Ninthly, they asked him, when the en­uious man is quyet: he answered, when he seeth his enemy dead, or vtterly vndon For truely the prosperity of the enemie is a sharpe knife to the enuious heart.

Tenthly, hee was asked, What man should doe to liue vprightly? Hee an­swered, to take the counsell to himselfe, which hee giueth to another. For the vn­doing of all men is, that they haue plentie of counsell for others, and want for themselues.

The eleuenth question was, they as­ked him, What profite he hath that is not couetous? whereunto hee answered: That such a one is deliuered from the tor­ments of his Auarice, and besides that hee recouereth friends for his person: For ri­ches tormenteth the Auaricious, because hee spendeth them not.

The twelfth, they asked him, What the Prince should doe to gouerne others? hee answered, hee ought first to gouerne himselfe, and then afterwards to gouerne others. For it is vnpossible the Rod should bee right, where the shadow is crooked.

By the occasion of this last answer, I did bring in here all these questions, to the ende Princes and Rulers might Princes and Magistrates supporters of the com­mon wealth see, how that euery one of them is as the rod of Iustice, and that the Com­mon-wealth is none other but a sha­dow of them, which in all, and for all, ought to be right. For immediatly it is perceiued in the shadow of the Co­mon-wealth, if the Iustice or life of him which gouerneth, bee out of his order. Therfore concluding that all I haue spoken before, if a Prince would aske mee why he is a Prince: I would tell him in one word onely: that hee which is the High Prince, hath made you a Prince in this world, to the ende you shuld be a destroyer of heretikes, a father of orphanes, a friend of Sages, a hater of malicious, a scourge of Ty­rants, a rewarder of good, a defender and protector of Churches, a plague of the wicked, a onely louer and friend of the Commonwealth, and aboue all you ought to bee an vpright minister of Iustice: beginning first with your owne person and Pallace: For in all things amendment is suffered, except in Iustice, which ought to bee equall, betweene the Prince and Common­wealth.

CHAP. XXXVI. What Plutarch the Philosopher was: Of the wise words hee spake to Trai­an the Emperour: And how the good Prince is the head of the Publike­weale.

IN the time of Trai­ana the Emperour, there flourished in his Court a Philo­sopher named Plu­tarch, a man very pure, and of good life, wise in science, and well esteemed The des­cription of Plutarch. in Rome. For Traian the Emperor de­sired greatly to haue Wise men in his companie, and to make notable and sumptuous Buyldings in euery place where he came.

It was hee which wrote the liues of many noble Greekes and Romanes, and aboue all hee made a Booke entituled The doctrine of Princes, which hee offe­red to the Emperour Traian: in the which hee sheweth his vertues, the zeale which he had to the Common­wealth, the highnes of his eloquēce, & the profoundnes of his knowledge.

For he was elegant in writing, and pleasant in speaking: and among all other things which hee wrote in his booke, were these words following: most worthie to be noted, and writ­ten in Golden letters; And they are such:

I let thee to know Lord Traian, that thou and the Empire are but one mysti­call bodie, in manner and forme of a liue­ly bodie: For they should, and ought to be so correspondent and agreeable, that the Emperor should reioyce to haue such sub­iects, and the Empire ought to be gladde to haue such a Lord.

And to the ende wee may describe the mysticall bodie, which is the Empyre, in the forme and shape of a natural man, you shall vnderstand that the head which is aboue all, is the Prince which commaundeth all: the eyes whereby we see, are the good men in the Commonwealth whom we followe: the eares that heare what wee say, are the Subiects, which doe what wee commaund them: the tongue wherewith we speake, are the Sages, of whom we heare the lawes and doctrines: the hayres which growe on our heads, are those which are vexed and gricued, and that demaund iustice of the King: The handes and armes, are the Knights, which resist the enemyes: the feet which sustaineth the mēbers, are the tyllers of the ground which giueth meate to all Estates: the hard Bones that sustai­neth the feeble and soft Flesh, are the Sage men, which endure the burden and tra­uell of the Common-wealth: the Hearts which we see not outwardly, are the Pri­uie Councellours,

Finally, the necke that knitteth the bo­die with the Head, is the loue of the King, combined with the whole Realme, which make a Common-wealth,

All the words abouenamed spake Plutarch the great, vnto Traian the Emperour. And truly the inuention and grace of him, proceeded of an high and deepe vnderstanding; For the head hath three properties, which are very necessary for the gouernor of the Common-wealth.

The first is, that euen as the head is of all other members of the body the highest, so the authority of the Prince exceedeth the estates of all others.

For the Prince onely hath authoritie to commaund, and all others are bound to obey,

Admit there be many that are stout, rich, and noble men in the Common­wealth: The autho­ritie of Princes. yet all ought to knowe and acknowledge seruice to the Lorde of the same. For the noble and worthie Princes doe daily ease many of diuers seruices, but they will neuer exempt any man from their loyaltie and alle­geance. Those which are valiant [Page 109] and mighty in a Realme, should con­tent themselues with that where­with the battlements doe vpon a Ca­stle (that is to know) that they are hier then the rampers wherein men walke on the Wals, and lower then the pinnacles which are on the toppe: for the wise man of high estate, ought not to regard the Prince which is the high pinnacle, but ought to looke on the alleis, which are the poore com­fortlesse.

I would speake a word, and it gree­ueth me (that is) whereas great Lords desire in the commonwealth to com­maund, is like vnto him that holdeth his armes and hands ouer his heade: For all that I haue heard, and for all What is most requi­site in the Common wealth. that I haue reade, and also for all that hath chanced in my time, I counsell, admonish, and warne all those which shall come after this time, that if they will enioy their goods, if they will liue in safeguard, and if they will bee deliuered from tyranny, and liue qui­et in the Common-wealth, that they doe not agree to haue in one Realme aboue one King and one Lord: For it is a generall rule, where there are many Rulers in a Common-wealth, in the end both it and all must pe­rish.

Wee see by experience, that Na­ture formed vs with many sinewes, many bones, with much flesh, with many fingers, and with many teeth: and to all this one only body had but one head: wherefore though with many estates the Common-wealth is ordayned: yet with one Prince a­lone it ought to bee ruled. If it con­sisted in mens hands to make a Prince they would then also haue the autho­rity to put him down: but being true, as it is most true indeede, that the Prince is constituted by God, none but God alone ought to depriue & depose him of his estate, but thinges that are measured by the diuine iudg­ment, man hath no power with razour to cut them. I know not what ambi­tion the mean can haue? neither what enuie the lowest can haue, nor what God the only letter vp of Princes. pride the highest can haue, to command, and not to obey, since wee are sure, that in this mysticall body of the Common-wealth, hee which is most worth, shalbe no more esteemed, then the fingers, or paring the nailes, or the falling of an haire from the head.

Let euery man the fore liue in peace in his common-wealth, and acknow­ledge obedience vnto his prince: and he that will not do so, away with him: for euen as the onely offence procee­deth of him, so let the onely paine rest vpon him. For it is an old saying, That hee that taketh vp the sword against his Maister, will shortly after lay his head at his feete. The second condition is, To compare the King to the head, because the head is the beginning of Mans life. The most part of things that euer God crea­ted, according to their natures, worke their operations, as in growing high, and towards the heauens.

We see the vapors ascend high, the Trees budde out on high, the sourges of the Sea mount high, and the nature Man diffe­reth from all other creatures. of Fire is alwayes to ascend & mount on high: onely the miserable Man, groweth downwards, and is brought low, by reason of the feeble and fraile flesh, which is but Earth, & commeth of earth, and liueth on earth: and in the ende returneth to earth againe, from whence he came.

Aristotle saith well, That Man is as a Tree, planted with the rootes vpwardes: whose roote is the head, and the stocke is the bodie: the braunches are the armes, the barcke is the Flesh, the knoties are the bones, the sappe is the heart: (which with the braine, is the seate of the soule, first li­uing, and last dying:) the rottennes is ma­lice, the gumme is loue, the flowers are wordes: and the Fruites, are the good workes.

[Page 110] To make the man to goe vpright­ly, his head should be where his feet are, and the feete where the head is, sith the head is the root, and the feet are the bowes: but in this case I sweare that we are correspondent to our be­ginning: for it our flesh bee planted contrariwise, so much more contrary we haue our life ordered.

Therefore concerning our matter, I say, that the Realme hath no lesse his beginning of the King, then the King of the Realme: which thing is plainely seene, for that the King gi­ueth lawes and institutions vnto a Realme, and not the Realme to the King. The gifts and benefits which the King giueth, cōmeth to the realm and not from the Realme to the King.

To inuent wars, to take truce, to make peace, to reward the good, and to punish the euill, proceedeth from What ben­fite cōmeth by a good Prince. the King to the Realme, and not to the contrary. For it appertaineth on­ly to the Maiesty of a Prince, to com­maund and ordaine: and to the com­mon wealth to authorize and obeye him.

As in a great sumptuous building it is more dāgerous, where one stone of the foundation doth fall, thē when ten thousand tiles fall from the toppe: so he, ought more to bee blamed for one onely disobedience committed and done to the King, and his iustice, then for fiue thousand offences a­gainst the common wealth: For wee haue seene of a little disobedience, a great slander arise in a cōmon wealth. O it is a goodly matter for a Prince to be beloued of his subiects, and a goodly thing also for the Realme to be fearefull of their King: for the king that is not loued of his Subiects, can­not liue in peace or quiet: & therealm that is not fearefull of their King can­not be well gouerned. The Realme Si­cilia had alwayes mighty Princes and Gouernors: for in ancient time it was gouerned by vertuous Princes, or els by cruell and malicious tyrants. In the time of Seuerus the Emperour, there raigne [...] in Cecil, a King called Lelius Pius, who had so many good things in him, that throughout all the Empire hee was very well esteemed, and chiefly for foure Lawes amongst others, he ordayned in that Realme, which were these following.

Wee ordaine, that if amongst equall Good lawes ordayned. persons there bee any iniuries offered, that they be punished, or else that they be assembled: for where enuy is rooted be­tweene two, it profiteth more to recōn­cile their good willes, then to punish their persons.

Wee ordaine, that if the greatest bee offended by the least, that such offence bee little reproued, and well punished: for the audacite and little shame, and also the disobedience of the seruant to the ma­ster, ought not to be reformed, but by grie­uous punishment.

We ordaine, that if any resist or speake against the commandement of a Prince, that presently (without delay) he suffer death before them all: for they may bold­ly by the way of supplication, reuerently declare their griefes, and not by slaunder rebelliously disobey their Lords.

Wee ordaine, that if any rayse the common wealth against the Prince, hee that can first strike off his head, may law­fully without fearing any daunger of pu­nishment: for his head is iustly taken from him, that would there should be ma­ny heades in the common weale.

Of all this before spoken, Herianus is the Authour, in his fourth Booke of the Kinges of Sieile, where hee putteth many and sin­gular Lawes and Customes, whith the Auncients had to the great con­fusion of those that be present

For truely the Auncients did not onely exceede those that bee present in their works & doings: but [Page 111] also in speaking profound wordes. Therefore returning to our matter, mans life greatly trauelleth alwayes to defend the head, in such sort that a man would rather suffer his hand to bee cut off, then to suffer a wound to bee made in his head,

By this comparison: I meane that a fault in a Common-wealth, is a cut which cankereth and festereth, but the disobedience to a Prince is a wound which forthwith killeth. If a man did aske mee what vnion Prin­ces should haue with their Common wealth, I would answere them in this sort, that the wealth of the King and Realme consisteth herein. That the King should accompany with the good, and banish the euill. For it is vnpossible that the King should bee What the Prince ought to do beloued of the Common-wealth, if the company hee hath about him be reputed vicious. Hee should also loue his Realme without dissimulati­on, and the Realme should serue him vnfaynedly: for the Common-wealth which knoweth it to bee beloued of their Prince, shall not finde any thing too hard for his scruice.

Further, that the King vse his Subiects as his children, and that the Subiects serue him as a Father: for generally the good Father cannot suffer his children to bee in danger, neyther the good children will diso­bey their Father.

Also the King ought to bee iust in his commaundements, and the sub­iects faithfull: For if it bee a good thing in their seruices, to liue vnder a iust Law, it is much better to liue vnder a iust King.

Also the King ought to defend his Subiects from enemies, and they ought well to pay him his tribute: For the Prince who defendeth his people from enemies and tyranny, worthily de­serueth to be Lord of all their goods,

Also the King ought to keepe his Common-wealth in quiet, and ought not to be presumptuous of his persō: for the Prince which is not feared, & well esteemed, shall neuer be obeyed in his commandement.

Finally, I say, that the good King ought to do his Realme pleasure, and the faithfull subiects ought to endea­uour themselues, neuer to displease their King. For that Prince cannot be called vnfortunate, who of his Common­wealth is loued and obeyed.

CHAP. XXXVII. As there are two sences in the head, smel­ling and hearing: So likewise the Prince which is the head of the Com­mon-weale, ought to heare the com­plaints of all his Subiects, and should know them all, to recompence their seruices.

WEe haue shewed, how the Prince is the commō welth. The King compared to the Common wealth and now wee will let you vnderstand another notable thing which is this: that as all sences are in the head, so ought all estates to bee in Princes: for the vertues which are in many spred and scattered should be in one Prince found and gathered.

The office of the feet is not to see but to goe: the hands office is not to heare, but to labour: the shoul­ders not to feele, but to beare: All these offices are not seemely for the members, which are his Subiects, but appertaineth to the King alone to ex­ercise them: For the head to haue eyes, & no other members, meaneth nought else, but that onely to the Prince, and to none other, appertai­neth to know all: for Iulius Caesar [Page 112] knew all those of his Host, and named them by their proper names.

I counsell, and admonish you, Oh ye Princes all, which shall heare, see, or read this thing, that yee do reioyce to visite, and to be visited: to see and to be seene: to talke, and to be talked with: For the things which with your eyes you see 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, apper­taineth to heare all, and to haue the The King the onely head of all gates open for all them that haue any sutes: For it is no small matter to a commonwealth, to heare and obtaine of the Prince easie audience.

Helius Spartianus commendeth high­ly Tratan the Emperour, that when he was on horseback to go to the warre, alighted againe, to heare the com­plaint of a poore Romaine. which thing was maruellously noted amongst all the Romains: for if men were not vaine they should giue a Prince more ho­nour for one worke of Iustice, then for the victorie in many battells.

Truely to a King it is no pleasure, but rather paine and griefe, and also for the common people annoyance, that their Prince alwayes should be enclo­sed and shut vp. For the prince which shutteth his gates against his subiects. causeth them not to open their hearts willingly to obey him. How manie and great slaunders doth there arise in the commonwealth, only for that the prince sometime will not speake?

Iulius Caesar was Emperour, and the head of all the Empire, and because hee was musing of weightie matters, The death of Iulius Caesar. and would not hearken to him which would haue reuealed the treason con­spired against him, was the same day, with 33. wounds in the Senate murde­red. The contrarie is read of Marcus Aurelius the Emperor, who was so fa­miliar with all men, that howbeit hee was chiefe of all, and that the affaires which now are diuided to manie, de­pended then onely of him: yet he ne­uer had porter of his gate, nor Cham­berlain of his chamber: and for many affaires that euer hee had to dee with many men (were they neuer so great) hee was neuer longer then one day a­bout thē. For truely (if I may say it) a prince is not worthy to be beloued, that is scarse of his words, vnto those which faithfully serue him with works: For wise princes should be quicke in hea­ring, and graue in determining. For manie come to speake with Princes, which thinke that their counsells shall not bee accepted, nor their reuestes graunted, yet they desire importunat­ly to be heard, and of truth the prince ought to heare them: For the heauie heart with sorrowes burdened, when it is heard, is greatly lightned.

I would faine know why the sence of smelling is onely in the head, and not in the feete, nor in the handes, neither in any other part of the bodie? Truly it signifieth nought else, but that it ap­pertaineth to the Prince (which is the head of all) to heare, and know all, and therefore it is necessary hee be infor­med of all their liues. For the prince cannot gouerne his Commonwealth A Prince ought not to be spa­ring in words. well, vnles he knoweth the particula­rities thereof. It is necessary that the Prince know the good, to the ende he may preferre them: For that Com­monwealth is greatly slandred, where­in the euill are not punished, nor the good honored. It is necessary that the prince know the sage, to counsel with them: For the ancient Romaines neuer admitted any for coūsellors, but those which with Phylosophie were adorned. It is necessary he know the euill for to correct them: for there is a great dis­order in the Commonwealth, where without any shame the wickednes of the wicked is cloked & vnpunished. It is necessary the prince do know those that are able to teach, for in the court [Page 113] of the Romaine princes, there were al­wayes Captaines, which taught and shewed how to handle their weapōs, and wise men, which taught and in­structed them Sciences,

It is necessarie the prince knew the poore of his Realme, for to ayde and succour them: For the Prince should so gouerne the Common-wealth, that among the rich nothing should abound: nor amōg the poore any thing should want. It is ne­cessary the Prince know the presump­tuous and malicious, for to humble What is re­quired in a Prince for the gouern­ment of the Common­wealth. them: For the poore by enuie, and the rich by pride, heretofore haue detstroyed great Commonwealths.

It is necessarie the prince know the peacekeepers, for to keepe and main­taine them in peace: For it is the duty of a prince to plucke downe the stout stomackes of the prowde, and to giue wings 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 theyr merites: For the stoute and noble hart for little fauour shewed vnto him, bindeth himselfe to accomplish great things.

It is necessary the Prince know the Noble-men of his Kingdome, to the ende that when time of need shall re­quire, he might retaine and take them into his seruice: For it is but meete, that that man which is adorned with vertue and Nobilitie, should bee pre­ferred aboue all others in the Com­mon-wealth.

Finally (I say) it is necessary, that the Prince should know the murmurers, neuer to credit them: and likewise to know those that tell the truth, alwayes to loue them. For none shuld be more familiar, thē the wise man to giue him coūsell, & the vpright man, to tell the truth. And contrariwise, none ought to bee more abhorred of the Prince, then the Flatterer and ignorant man.

O how necessarie it is for a Prince to know & vnderstand all things in his Realme, to the end no man might de­ceyue him, as they doe now a dayes. For the most part of princes are decei­ued, for none other cause, but for that they will not be counselled, and infor­med by wise and discreet men. For, many crout [...]h vnto princes with faire wordes, (as though they meant him good seruice) but theyr intent is con­trarie, by deceyt to get an Office, and secke their owne profite.

Helius Spartianus saith, that Alex­ander Seuerus (the xxv. Emperour of Rome) was a man very stoute, and ver­tuous, and amongst all other things, The com­mendations of the Em­perour A­lexander Scue. us. they greatly commēded him, because in his chamber he had a familiar booke, wherein he had written all the Nobles of his Realme and Empire, and when any Office was voyde, they saide no­thing else to him, but that it is voyde: for the Emperour did not graunt it to him that sought it, but (by the secrate information of his Booke) to him that best deserued it.

I will and may sweare, and all other princes shal wel affirme the same, that though they erre in distributing theyr Offices, they do not erre for that they would erre: Yet they cannot denie, but that they erre grieuously, for that they will not be enformed, and thogh they bee informed, yet it were better they were not informed at all: For he shall neuer giue the prince good nor perfect counsell, which (by that coun­sel) intendeth to haue some proper in­terest. The chiefest thing for princes, is to knowe how to choose the best in prosperitie, and how to auoyde the worst in aduersitie, and to know how to reward the good men liberally.

And truly in this case Noble prin­ces should haue more consideration towards them which haue done them the worthiest and loyalst seruice, then to the importunate sutes of his Familiar friendes: For hee shall thanke [Page 114] the seruant that procureth it, but not the Prince that geueth it.

All that wee speake is to no other purpose, but to perswade, that sith the Prince is Lord of all, it is reason, that hee bee enformed of the state & condition of all: for otherwise hee shall bee deceyued by a thousand ma­licious hearts which are in the Com­mon wealth. Therefore to conclude I say, if the Prince bee not enformed of the life of all, the skinne will seeme flesh, the brain meate, the straw corn, the brasse golde, the gall honey, and the dregs good wine: I meane in diuiding his offices, thinking to hit the white, he shall oft times mil [...]e the butte.

CHAP. XXXVIII. Of the great Feast the Romanes cele­brated to the God Ianus, the first day of Ianuary, and of the bounty and liberality of the Emperour Mareus Aurelius the same day:

AMong the solemne The feasts of the Ro­manes. feasts which the an­cient Romanes vsed, this was one to the god Ianus, the which they celebrated the first day of the year, which now is the first of Ianuary. for the Hebrewes beganne their yeare in March, and the Romanes beganne at Ianuarie.

The Romanes painted this god with two faces, signifying thereby the end of the yeare past, and the beginning of the yeare present. To this god Ia­nus was dedicated in the city of Rome a sumptuous Temple, which they cal­led the Temple of peace, and was in great reuerence throughout all the City: for the Citizens on this day offered great gifts and sacrifices, be­cause hee should defend them from their enemies: For there is no Na­tion nor people to whom warre euer succeeded so prosperously, but that they had rather liue in peace then in warre.

When the Romane Emperours went to the warres, or came from the warres, first they visited the Temple of Iupiter, secondarily, the Temple of the Vestall virgins, and thirdly, they visited the Temple of the god Ianus: because there was a Law in Rome, that the Emperour should at his going forth to the warres visite the Temple of Iupiter last of all, and at his return againe, the Temple of Ianus first. And let them that be desirous of Antiqui­ties here know, that when the Empe­rour should goe to the warres in the Temple of the Goddesse Vesta, they put vppon his shoulders the royall mantell, and in the Temple of Iupiter all 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 three thou­sand neighbours to dye which kissed his right hand, they neuer after kissed the hands of any Emperour in Rome: Therefore sith the Gentiles would not issue out of Rome before that first they had taken the benediction of The duty of euery good Chri­stian. those vaine Gods: how much more ought Christian Princes to doe it, which know well that their Temples are consecrated to the true God, and ordained for his seruice onely. For the man that forgetteth God, and committeth his affayres to men, shall see how his businesse will thriue at the hands of men. Therefore procee­ding forth, the day wherein the Feast of the god Ianus was celebrated, eue­ry man left his worke, and reioyced through all the streetes of Rome, no more then lesse then in the feasts of [Page 115] Iupiter, Mars, Venus, Berecinthia: For the feasts of the other gods (sith they were many in number) were not cele­brated, but in certaine places in Rome. The Romanes on that day, put on their best apparrell, for they had a custome in Rome, that hee which had not that day change of apparrell to honor the Feast, should eyther goe out of Rome, or else keepe himselfe locked in his his house.

That day they set on their hou­ses many lights, & made great bone­fires before their dores, and had sun­dry and many playes and pastimes: for the feasts of vain men are more to delight their bodies then to reforme their minds. They watched all the night in the Temples, and also they deliuered al the prisoners which were imprisoned for debt, and with the common treasures payd their debts. Furthermore, they had a custome in Rome, that they should sustaine all the An ancient custome in Rome. Senators (which were fallen into po­uerty) with the goods of the commō wealth.

They had that day Tables set be­fore their dores, furnished with all sorts of meates, so that that which re­mayned and was left, was more worth then that which was eaten, For vaine glorious men auant themselues more of that which in bankets and feastes is left, then they doe of that which is eaten.

They sought all that day for poore men, because they should be proui­ded of all things: For it was an aun­cient law, that none should bee so hardy to make any open feast, except first hee had prouided for all them of his streete.

The Romanes thought that if they spent liberally that day, the god Ia­nus would deliuer them from pouer­ty, because he was the god of tem­porall goods.

And they sayd further, that the god Ianus was a God very thankefull, and acknowledged the seruices that were done vnto him, and beleeued earnestly that if they spent freely for his sake, hee would requite it double. In the feast of this god Ianus many processions were made, not altoge­ther, but the Senate went by them­selues, the Censors by themselues, the people by themselues, the Matrones by themselues, the Maidens by them▪ the Vestall Virgins by themselues, and all the straunge Embassadors went with the captiues in pro­cession, there was a custome in Rome that the same day the Emperor shold An other custome in Rome. weare the Imperiall robe, all the cap­tiues which could touch him with their hands were deliuered, and al the transgressors pardoned, exiles and outlawries were called againe. For the Roman Princes were neuer pre­sent in any feast, but they shewed some noble example of mercie, or gentlenes toward the peeple. At this time Marcus Aurelius was Emperor of Rome, and married with the beau­tifull Lady Faustina, (who in the feast of Ianus) leauing in procession the company of the Senators, came into the procession of the Captiues, the which easily touched his robe, where­by they obtayned liberty, the which they so greatly desired: I say desired; for truly the Captiue is contented with a small thing. And because there is no good thing by any good man done, but immediately by the wicked it is repined at: this deede was so contrary to the euill, as ioyfull to the good: for there is nothing bee it ne­uer so good, not so well done, but forthwith it shall bee contraried of them that be euill.

Of this thing I haue seene by ex­perience (in this miserable life sundry examples) that euen as among the good one onely is noted to be chiefe: so likewise among the euill, one is [Page 116] noted principall aboue the rest. And the worst I finde herein is, that the vertuous doe not so much glory of their vertue, as the euill and maliti­ous hath shame and dishonour of their vice: for vertue naturally ma­keth a man to bee temperate and qui­et, but vice maketh him to bee disso­lute and retchlesse.

This is spoken, because in the Se­nate of Rome, there was a Senatour called Fuluius, whose beard & hayres were very white, but in malice, hee was most cankered blacke: so that for his yeares hee was honoured in Rome of many, and for his malice he was hated of all.

The Senator Fuluius made friends in the time of Adrian to succeede in the Empire, and for this cause he had alwayes Marcus Aurelius for his com­petitor, and wheresoeuer hee came he alwayes spake euill of him, as of his mortall enemy.

For the enuious heart can neuer giue a man one good word. This Se­nators heart was so puffed with enuy that hee seeing Marcus Aurelius to obtaine the Empire being so young, and that hee being so olde could not attaine thereunto: there was no good that euer Marcus Aurelius did in the Common-wealth openly, but it was Nothing so hurtfull, as an enuious tongne. grudged at by Fuluius, who sought al­wayes to deface the same secretly. It is the nature of those which haue their hearts infected with malice, to spitte out their poison with wordes of spite. Oft times I haue mused which of these two are greater, the duety the good haue to speake against the euil, or else the audacity the euill haue to speake against the good: For in the World there is no brute beast so har­dy, as the euill man is, that hath lost his fame.

Oh would to God the good to his desire had as much power to doe good works, as the euill hath strength to his affection, to exercise wic­ked deedes: for the vertuous man findeth not one hand to helpe him in vertue to worke, yet after hee hath wrought it, hee shall haue a thousand euill tongues against his honest do­ings to speake.

I would all these which reade this my writing, would call to memory this word (which is) that among euill men the chiefest euill is, that after they haue forgotten themselus to be men, and exiled both truth and reason, thē with all their might they goe against truth and vertue with their words, & against good deeds with their tongs: for though it bee euill to bee an euill man, yet it is worse not to suffer an o­ther to bee good, which aboue all things is to bee abhorred, and not to bee suffered. I let you know and as­sure you, Princes and Noble men, that you in working vertuous deeds, shall not want slaunderous tongues, and though you bee stout, yet you must bee patient to breake theyr ma­lice. For the Noble heart feeleth more the enuie of another, then hee doth the labour of his owne body. Princes should not be dismayed, nei­ther ought they to maruell, though they bee tolde of the murmuring at their good works: For in the end they are men, they liue with men, & cannot escape the miseries of men: For there was neuer Prince in the World yet so high, but hee hath beene subiect to malitious tongues. Enuse an enemie to vertue. Truly a man ought to take great pit­ty of Princes, whether they bee good or euill: for if they bee euill, the good hate them, and if they bee good, the euill immediately murmureth against them.

The Emperour Octauian was very vertuous, yet greatly persecuted with enuious tongues, who on a time de­maunded (since he did good vnto al men) why he suffered a few to mur­mur [Page 117] against him? hee answered: you see my friends, hee that hath made Rome free from enemies, hath also set at liberty the tongues of malitious men: for it is not reason that the hard stones should be at liberty, and the tender stones tyed.

Truly, this Emperour Octauian by his words declared himselfe to bee a Wise man, and of a noble heart, and lightly to waigh both the murmu­rings of the people, and also the va­nities of their words, which thing truly a wise and vertuous man ought to doe: For it is a generall rule, that vices continually seeke defendors, and vertues alwayes getteth enemi­es. In the Booke of Lawes the di­uine Plato sayth well, that the euill were alwayes double euill, because they were weapons defensiue, to de­fend their malitious purpose: and al­so carry weapons offensiue, to ble­mish the good works of others.

Vertuous men ought with much study to follow the good, and with more diligence to flye from the euill: For, a good man may commaund all o­ther vertuous men with a backe of his finger, but to keepe himselfe onely from one euill man, hee had neede both hands, feet and friends.

Themistocles the Thebane sayde, that hee felt no greater torment in the World then this, that his proper honour should depend vpon the i­magination of an other: for it is a cruell thing that the life and honor of one that is good, should be measured by the tongue of an other that is e­uill: for as in the Forge the coales, cannot bee kindled without sparkes nor as corruption can not bee in the sinckes without ordure: so hee that hath his heart free from malice, his tongue is occupied alwayes in sweete and pleasant communication. And contrariwise out of his mouth, whose stomack is infected with malice, pro­ceedeth alwayes words bitter and ful of poyson: for, if out of a rotten fur­nace the fire burneth, it is impossible that the smoake should be cleare. It is but a small time, that (in prophane loue) he that is enamored, is able to refraine his loue, and much lesse time is the wrathfull man able to hide his wrath: for the heauy sighes are to­kens of the sorrowfull heart, and the words are those that disclose the ma­licious man.

Pulio sayeth in the first booke of Caesars, that the Emperor Marcus Au­relius was very vertuous in all his works, sage in knowledge, iust in iudgment, The prayse of Marcus Aurelius. mercifull in punishment: but a­boue all things he was wise in dissem­bling, and herein he was very discreet: for there was neuer patient man but prospered well in all his affayres. Wee see that through patience and wise­dome, many euill things become rea­sonable, & frō reasonable are broght to good, & from good to excellent. The contrary hapneth to them that are moued more then they need: for the man which is not patient, looketh not yet for any good successe in his affayres, thogh they are iust. The Em­perour Marcus oft times was wont to say, that Iulius Caesar wan the Empire by the sword, Augustus was Emperor by inheritance, Caligula came to it, be­cause his father conquered Germany, Nero gouerned it with tyranny, Ti­tus was Emperor, for that he subdu­ed Iury, the good Traian came to the Empire by his clemency and vertue: but I (sayeth he) obtained the Empire through patience onely: for it is a greater patience to suffer the iniuries of the malitious, then to dispute with the Sage in the Vniuersity.

And this Emperour sayde fur­ther, Patience ouercom­meth many matters. in the gouernment of the Em­pire: I haue profited more through pa­tience, then by science: for science on­ly profiteth for the quietnesse of the [Page 118] person, but patience profiteth the person, and the Commonwealth.

Iulius Capitolinus saith that the Em­peror Antoninus Pius was a prince ve­ry True pa­tience described. pacient, and in such sort, that often times being in the Senate, hee saw both those which loued him, and al­so those that were against him with the people when they did rebell: yet his patience was so great, that neither his friends for the vnthankefulnesse of themselues, remayned sad, neyther his enemies for any displeasure by him done, did at any time complain. Meaning therefore in this Chapter, to ioine the end with the beginning: I say, that as the Emperour Marcus Aurelius put himselfe among the cap­tiues, and that this deed in Rome of all 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 words to the Em­perour.

Lord, I maruell why thou yeeldest thy selfe to all, which thing for the re­putation of the Empire cannot bee suf­fered, for that it is not decent for thy Maiesty.

The Emperour Marcus Aurelius seeing & hearing that in the presence of them all, the Senator Fuluius spake vnto him these words, he tooke it pa­tiently, & with pleasant countenance sayde, The Questions which the Senator Fuluius propoundeth, let it bee for to morrow, because my answere may bee the riper, and his choller the quieter. There­fore the next day following, the Em­perour Marcus came into the High Capitoll (as Pulio declareth in the life of Marcus Aurelius) and spake these words.

CHAP. XXXIX. Of the answer the Emperour Marcus Aurelius made to the Senatour Ful­uius before all the Senate, being re­proued of him for his familiaritie hee vsed to all, contrary to the maiestie and authoritie of the Romane Emperour, wherein he painteth enuious men.

FAthers Conscript, and sacred Senate, I would not yester­day answere to that which the Senator Fuluius spake vn­to mee, because it was somewhat late, and for that wee were long in sacrifices, I thought that neyther time nor place was conueni­ent to answere thereunto. For it is a signe of a little wisdome, and of great folly for a man to answere sodenly to euery question. The liberty that vn­discreet men haue to demaund, the selfe same priuiledge hath the Wise for to answere: for though the de­maund proceed of ignorance, yet the answere ought to proceede of Wise­dome:

Truly wise men were well at ease, if to euery demaund they should an­swere the simple and malitious: who (for the most part) demaund more to vexe other men, then for to profite themselus, more for to proue then to know: wherefore Wise men ought to dissemble at such demaundes: for the Sages ought to haue their eares open to heare, and their tongue tyed because they should not speake. I The proper­ty of a wise man. let you know (ancient Fathers, and sacred Senate) that that little which I know, I learned in the Isle of Rhodes, in Naples, in Capua, and in Tharente. And all Tutors tolde mee, that the [Page 119] intention and end of men to study, was onely to know to gouern them­selues amongst the malicious: For science profiteth nothing else, but to know how to keepe his life well or­dered, and his tongue well measured. Therfore I protest to God, that which I will say before your sacred presence, I will not speake it of any malice or ill will, but onely to answere vnto that which toucheth the authority of my person: for the things which touch The replye of the Em­perour. the honour, ought first by word to be answered, and afterwards by sword to be reuenged.

Therefore now beginning my matter, and addressing my words to thee Fuluius, and to that which thou spakest vnto me, asking why I shew my selfe so to all men: I answere thee: It is because al men should giue them selues to me.

Thou knowest well Fuluius, that I haue beene a Consul as thou art, and thou hast not beene an Emperour as I am. Therefore beleeue mee in this case, that the Prince being despised, cannot bee beloued of his people: The gods will not, nor the lawes doe permit, neyther the Commonwealth willingly should suffer, that all Prin­ces should bee Lords of many, and that they should not communicate but with a few: For Princes which haue beene gentle in their liues, the Ancients haue made them gods after their deathes, The Fisher, to fish for many fishes in the riuer, goeth not with one Boate alone, nor the Mari­ner to fish in the deepe sea, goeth not with one net onely. I meane, that the profound wills, which are deeply in the hearts, ought to bee won some by gifts, other by promises, other by pleasant words, and other by gentle entertainement: For Princes should trauell more to winne the hearts of their Subiects, then to conquere the realmes of strangers:

The greedy and couetous harts care not, though the prince shutteth vp his heart, so that he open his cofers: but Noble and valiant men little esteeme that which they locke vp in their co­fers, so that their hearts bee open to theyr friends. For Loue can neuer but with loue againe be requited.

Sith Princes are Lords ouer many, How a Prince ought to behaue himselfe. of necessitie they ought to bee serued with manie: and beeing serued with manie, they are bound to satisfie ma­nie: and this is as generally, as particu­larly, they cannot dispence with their Seruants. For, the Prince is no lesse bound to pay the seruice of his Ser­uant, then the maister is to pay the wages of the hyred labourer.

Therefore if this thing be true (as it is) how shall poore Princes do, which keepe many Realmes, and in keeping them they haue great expences, and for to defray such charges, they haue but little money? For in this case, let euery man doe what hee will, and let them take what counsel they like best.

I would counsell all others, as my selfe haue experimented, that is: that the Prince shuld be of so good a con­uersation, amongst those which are his,: and so affable and familiar with all, that for his good conuersation onely, they should thinke themselues well apaide. For with rewards, Prin­ces recompence the trauells of theyr Seruants: but with gentle and faire words, they steale and robbe the harts of their subiects.

Wee see by experience, that diuers Marchants had rather buye dearer in one shop, because the merchāt is plea­sant, then to buy better cheap in an o­ther, wheras the merchant is churlish. I meane that there are manie, which had rather serue a prince to gaine no­thing but loue onely, then to serue an other prince for money. For there is no seruice better imploied, thē to him which is honest, good, and gracious: [Page 120] and to the contrary, none worse be­stowed then on him which is vnthāk­full and churlish.

In Princes Pallaces there shall ne­uer want euill and wicked men, mali­cious The Court neuer with­out flatte­rers. and diuelish flatterers, which will seeke meanes to put into theyr Lords heads how they shal raise their rents, leuy Subsidies, inuent tributes, and borrow money: but there are none that will tell them how they shal winne the hearts and good willes of their Subiects, though they know it more profitable to bee well beloued, then necessary to be enriched.

He that heapeth treasure for his Prince, and separateth him from the loue of his people: ought not to bee called a faithfull seruant, but a mor­tall enemy.

Princes and Lords ought greatly to endeauour themselues to bee so con­uersant among their Subiects, that they had rather serue for good Will, then for the payment of money: for if mony want, their seruice wil quaile: and hereof proceedeth a thousand in­conueniences vnto Princes, which neuer happen vnto those that haue seruants, which serue more of good will then for money: for hee that lo­ueth with all his heart, is not proude in prosperity, desperate in aduersity: neyther complayneth he of pouertie, nor is discontented being fauourles: nor yet abashed with persecution: & finally, loue and life are neuer separa­ted, vntill they come vnto the graue.

Wee see by experience, that the rablement of the poore Labourers of Sicill is more worth, then the mo­ney of the Knight of Rome: For the Labourer euery time he goeth to the field, bringeth some profit frō thence: but euery time the Knight sheweth himselfe in the market place, he retur­neth without money.

By the comparison, I meane, that Princes should bee affable, easie to talke with all, pleasant, mercifull, be­nigne, and stout: and aboue all, that they bee gratious and louing, to the end that through these qualities, and and not by money, they may learne to winne the hearts of their subiectes. Princes should greatly labour to bee loued, specially if they will finde who shall succour them in aduersity, and keepe them from euill will and ha­tred, which those Princes cānot haue that are hated: but rather, euery man reioyceth at their fall and misery: for each man enioyeth his owne trauel, and truly the furious and sorrowfull hearts take some rest, to see that o­thers haue pitty and compassion vpon their griefes.

Princes also should endeauour themselues to bee loued and well wil­led, because at their death they may of all their seruants and friends bee lamented. For Princes ought to bee such, that they may be prayed for in their life, and lamented and remem­bred after their death. How cursed is that Prince, and also how vnhap­py is that Common-wealth, where the seruants will not serue their Lord, but for reward: and that the Lorde dooth not loue them but for theyr seruices: For there is neuer true loue where there is any particular in­terest.

With many stones a house is builded, and of many men and one Prince (which is the head of all) the Common wealth is made: For hee that gouerneth the Common wealth may be called a Prince, and otherwise not: and the Common-wealth can­not bee called or sayde a Common wealth, if it hath not a Prince which is the head thereof.

If Geometrie do not deceyue me, the lime which ioyneth one stone with an other, suffereth well that it bee mingled with sand, but the [Page 121] corner-stone that lyeth on the toppe ought to bee medled, with vnsl [...]ked lime. And it soundeth vnto good rea­son: For if the nether-stones seperate, the wall openeth: but if the corner The loue of the prince to his peo­ple. stone should slippe, the building in­continently falleth.

I suppse (Fathers conscript,) you vnderstand very well to what end 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 bee true and pure.

I meane that the loue amongst frends may passe sometimes although it bee colde: but that loue betweene the King and his people, at al times ought to be perfect. For where there is per­fect loue, there is no fayned wordes, nor vnfaithfull seruice.

I haue seene in Rome many debates and hurly-burlyes among the people, to haue bin pacified in one day: and one onely which betweene the Lorde and the Commonwealth ariseth, can­not be pacified vntill death: For it is a dangerous thing for one to striue with many, and for many to contend against one.

In this case, where the one is proud, and the other rebelles, I will not ex­cuse the Prince, nor yet let to con­demne the people. For in the end he that thinketh himselfe most innocent, deserueth greatest blame. And from whence thinke you commeth it, that Lords now adayes commaund vniust things by furie? and the Subiects in iust matters will not obey by reason, I will tell you.

The Lord doing of will, and not of right, would cast the wills of all in his own braine, and deriue from himselfe all counsell. For euen as Princes are of greater power then all the rest: so they thinke they knowe more then all the rest.

The contrary hapneth to subiects, who (beeing prouoked, I cannot tell you with what Frensie) despising the good vnderstanding of theyr Lorde, will not obey that which their prince willeth, for the health of them all, but that which euery man desireth parti­cularly: For men now a dayes are so fonde that euery man thinketh the Prince should looke on him alone. The fondnes of our time.

Truely it is a strange thing (though it be much vsed among men) that one man should desire that the garments of all others should be meete for him: which is as vnpossible, as if one mans Armour should arme a whole multi­tude.

But what shall we be (Fathers con­script and sacred Senate) sith our Fa­thers left vs this world with such fol­lie: and that in these debates and strifes, wee theyr children, are alwayes in dissention and controuersie, and in this wilfalnes, wee shall also leaue our children and heyres?

How many Princes haue I seen and read of in my time, of my predeces­sors, which were vtterly vndon, by too much pride and presumption? but I neuer read nor hearde of any, which were destroyed for being courteous, and louing to his subiects.

I will declare by some examples, which I haue read in bookes, to the end that the Lords may see what they Pride the o­uerthrow of great perso­nages. win by theyr good conuersation, and what they loose by being too hautie.

The Realme of the Sidonians was greater then that of the Chaldeans in weapons, and inferiour in antiquitie, vnto that of the Assyrians,. In this Realme there was Debastia, which was called a King of Kings, that endured two hundred and xxv. yeeres, be­cause all these Kings were of a com­mendable conuersation. And another of Debastia, endured no longer then forty yeares. And our ancients tooke pleasure of peace, wherof we are [...]: and were ignorant of the [...] which wee now vse so much.

[Page 122] Alwayes they desired to haue Kings, which should bee good for the Com­mon-wealth in peace, rather then va­liant and couragious in the warre: as Homere in his Ilyades saith:

The auncient Egiptians called theyr Kings Epiphanes, and had a custom, that Epiphanes should enter into the temples barefoote: And because it chanced the Epiphane on a time to come into their Church hoased, hee was immediately for his disobediēce depriued and ex­pulsed the Realme, and in his stead an other created.

Homere declareth here, that this king was prowde, and euill conditioned, wherfore the Egyptians depriued him, and banished him the Realme, taking oceasion that hee did not enter into the temple barefoot. For truely when Pride the fall of ma­ny great men. Lordes are euill-willed, and not belo­ued, for a little trifle and occasion the people will arise, and rebell against them.

The said Homer saide also, that the Parthes called theyr Kings Assacides, and that the sixt of that name was de­priued and expulsed the Realme: for that of presumption hee bad himselfe to the marriage of a knight, and being bidden and desired, would not goe to the marriage of a poore Plebeyan.

Cicero in his Tusculanes, sayth, That in olde time, the people perswaded theyr Princes to communicate with the poore, and that they should abstaine & flye from the rich: For among the poore they should learne to bee mercifull, and with the rich they shall learne nothing but onely to bee prowd.

Yee knowe right well (Fathers con­script) how this our countrey was first called Great Greece, afterwards it was called Latium, and then Italie.

And when it was called Latium, they called their kings Marrani, and truely although theyr borders were but nar­row: yet at the least theyr stoutnesse was great.

The Annales of those times say, that after the thirde Syluius, succeeded a Marrine, who was proude, ambicious, and euill conditioned, in such sorte, that for feare of the people, alwaies he slept locked vp: and therefore they both depriued him, and banished him the Realme: For the auncients sayd, That the king should locke his dores at no houre of the night against his Subiects: neyther he should refuse in the day to giue them audience.

Tarquine which was the last of the seuen Kings of Rome, which was very vnthankfull towards his Father in law, Tarquine noted of vnthankfull­nes. he was an infamie to his bloud, a trai­tour to his countrey, and cruell of his person, who also enforced the Noble Lucretia, and yet notwithstanding this they doe not call him vnthankfull, in­famous, cruell, traitour, nor adulterer: but Tarquine the proude: onely for that he was euill conditioned.

By the faith of a good man, I sweare vnto you (Fathers conscript) that if the miserable Tarquin had bin beloued in Rome, hee had neuer bin depriued of the Realme, for committing adulterie with Lucretia. For in the end if euery light offence, which in youth is com­mitted, should bee punished within short space, there should be no Com­mon-wealth.

All these euils both before and after Tarquine, were committed by the an­cients in the Romaine Empire, which were such as these, (of this young and light prince) and were nothing in com­parison The punishment of Tarqui vnto thee. For truly conside­ring the youth of the one, and the ex­perience of the other: the greatest of­fence of the young, is but a counter­feit to the least that the olde commit­teth.

Iulius Caesar last Dictatour, and first Emperour of Rome, (beeing a thing commendable both to Senatours, to salute the Emperour on theyr knees, and to the Emperour, to rise against [Page 123] them, and resalute eache one accor­ding to this order (because of presum­ption, and that he would not obserue this ceremonie,) with xxiii. woundes they dispatched him of his life.

Tiberius was an Emperour, whome they blame for drunkennes. Caligula was an Emperor also, whome they ac­cuse of Incest with his Sisters, Nero was an Emperour, who (for that hee slew his Mother, and his maister Sene­ca:) hath for euer bin named cruell.

Sergius Galba was a deuouring and a gluttonous Emperor, for that he cau­sed for one onely Banket, seuen thou­sand Bynds to be killed, Domitian was an Emperour, who was greatly noted of all euils. For all euils which in ma­nie The mise­rable end of euill Go­uernours. were scattered, in him alone were found. All these miserable Princes in the ende were betrayed, hanged, and beheaded. And I sweare vnto ye (Fa­thers conscript) that they died not for theyr vices, but because they were proud and euill conditioned. For fi­nally, the Prince for one vice onely, cannot much endamage the people: but for being too haultie and presumptuous, and of euill conditions, they may destroy a Commonwealth:

Let Princes and great Lords be as­sured, that if they giue many occasions of euill example, afterwardes one onely-suffiseth, to stirre theyr subiects to destroy them. For if the Lord shew not his hatred, it is for that hee will not, but if the subiect do not reuenge, it is for that he cannot.

Beleue me (fathers conscript, & sacred Senate,) that euen as the Physition with a little triacle purgeth many euil humors of the body, so the sage Prin­ces, with very litle beneuolence, draw out of theyr Subiects, much rancour and inward filthinesse of heart: di­uerting their euill wills into true and faithfull loue.

And because the members should be agreable with the head, in mine o­pinion it behoueth the people to o­bey the commaundements of theyr Prince and to doe honour, and to reuerence his person: and the good Prince to bee iust and equall to all in generall, and gentle in conuersation with euery one.

O happy commonwealth, wherein the Prince findeth obedience in the people and the people in like manner loue in the Prince, For the loue of the Lord, springeth obedience in the subiect: and of the obodience of the Subiects, springeth loue in the Lord.

The Emperour in Rome; is, as the Spyder in the midst of her Cobweb: The true patterne of a vertuous Prince. the which beeing touched with the needles point, by one of the threedes of the same (bee it neuer so little) im­mediately the spyder feeleth it.

I meane, that all the worke which the Emperor doth in Rome, are imme­diately published throughout all the countrey. For in fine, since princes are the myrrour of all, they can not well cloake theyr vices.

I see (Fathers conscript) that I haue bin iudged here of worldly malice, be­cause I accompanyed the captiues in procession, and also, because I suffered my selfe to bee touched with them, to the ende they might enioye the pri­uiledge of their libertie: and in this case I render most humble thanks vn­to the immortall Gods, because they made mee a mercifull Emperour: to set those at Libertie, that were in prison: and that they made me not a cru­ell tyrant, to set those in prison, which were at liberty. For the prouerb saith, that with one bean, a man may take 2. pigeons: euē so chanced the like here­in yesterday. For the benefite was don for those miserable Captiues: but the example of humanitie was shewed to all strange nations. And know ye not, that whē the prince vnloseth the irons frō the feet of the captiues, he bindeth the harts, goods, and lands of his sub­iects? [Page 124] Concluding therefore I say, that to the Princes it were more safe­ty, and to the Common wealth more profite, to be serued in their Pallaces by free hearts with loue: then by sub­iects which are kept vnder by feare.

CHAP. XL. Of a Letter which the Emperour Mar­cus Aurelius sent to his friend Pu­lio, declaring the opinion of certaine Philosophers concerning the felicitie of man.

MArcus Aurelius Em­perour of Rome, tri­bune of the people, high Bishop, secōd Consull and Mo­narche of al the Ro­mane Empire, wi­sheth to thee Pulio his olde friend, health to thy person, and prosperitie against thy euill fortune. The let­ter that thou wrotest vnto mee from Capua, I receyued here at Bethinia, and if thou diddest write it with a good heart, I did reade it with willing eyes: wherof thou oughtest somewhat to content thee: For it is an olde saying of Homer, That that which is well view­ed with the eyes, is tenderly beloued of A true say­ing of Ho­mer. the heart. I protest vnto thee by the faith of the immortall gods, that I do not write vnto thee as a Romane Em­perour, that is to say, from the Lord to the seruant: for in this sorte, I should write vnto thee briefe, and touching the purpose: which thing ought not to bee done to the pecu­liar friend: For the Letters of graue men should neuer beginne, and the Letters of vs friends should neuer end. I write vnto thee my friend Pu­lio, as to a priuate friend, to an olde companion of mine, and as to him, which is a faithfull secretary of my de­sires, and in whose company I was ne­uer displeased, in whose mouth I ne­uer found lye, and in whose promise there was neuer breach made. And the thing being thus. I shuld commit treason in the law of friendship, if I keepe secret from thee any of my in­ward conceites: for all the griefes which lye buried in the wofull heart, ought not to bee communicated but with a faithfull friend.

Doest thou thinke Pulio, that the Romane Emperour hath little trauell to write vnto thee as Emperour, to speake as Emperour, to walke as Em­perour, A descripti­on of a perfect friend. and to eate as Emperour: and finally, to bee as Emperour indeed: Certes I do not maruell hereat. For truely the life of the vertuous Empe­rour, is but a Dyall which ordereth or disordereth the Common-wealth: and that whereof I maruell, is of the folly of Rome, and vanity of the Com­mon wealth. For as much as all say, that the Prince (if he will seem graue, and be well esteemed of the people) ought to goe softly, to speake little, & to write briefly: so that for writing of letters they will he be briefe, and for conquering of strange Realmes, they doe not rebuke him although hee be long.

Wise men should desire that their Princes be of gentle condition, to the end they fall not to tyranny, That they haue their mind vncorrupted to minister to all equall iustice, that their thought bee good, not to desire straunge Realms, that they haue their hearts voide from wrath, that they bee sound within to pardon iniuries, that they loue their Subiects to bee serued of them, that they know the good to honour them, and that they know the euill to punish them: and as for the surplus, we little regard whe­ther the King go fast, whether he eate [Page 125] much, or write briefe. For the danger is not in that which is in the lacke of his owne person: but it is in the neg­ligence that he vseth in the common­wealth.

I haue receyued (my Friend Pu­lio) great comfort of thy letter, but yet much more I should haue receiued of thy presence: for the letters of aunci­ent friends, are but as a remembrance of times past.

It is a great pleasure to the Mari­ner, to talke of the perils past (being in the hauen, and to the Captain to glo­rie of the battell, after the victorie.)

I meane aboue all pleasures this is the What plea­sure it is to remember dāgers past. greatest to men, beeing now faithfull friends, to talke of the trauells & dan­gers which they had passed, when they were young men. Belieue me in one thing, & do not doubt therof: There is no man that knoweth to speak, that knoweth to possesse, nor that cā iudge or take any pleasure, neyther that well knoweth how to keep the goods which the gods haue giuen him, vnlesse it be hee that hath bought it deerely, with great trauell. For with all our hearts wee loue that thing, which with our owne proper labour and trauell wee haue gotten.

I aske thee one thing: who is hee that oweth most to the Gods, or that is most esteemed amongst men? of Traian the iust, which was brought vp in the Warres of Dace, Germanie, and Spaine? or of Nero the cruell, which was nourished in all the deliciousnes of Rome. Truely the one was none o­ther then a Rose among bryers, and the other, was but a Nettle amongst flowers. I spake this, because the good Traian hath gouerned his life in such sorte, that alwayes they will smell the Rose by the pleasant sauour: but the cruell Nero hath left the sting the net­tle of his infamie. I will not speake all, because many are, and were made good, but for the most part the princes which were brought vp deliciously; gaue euery man occasion that al shuld be offended, for the euill gouernance of their liues in their Realmes: and because they neuer experimented any kinde of trauell in themselues, they do little esteeme the paines of another.

I will not that thou thinke my friend Pulio, that I haue forgotten the time that is past, though the Gods brought me to the Empire present. For thogh we together were tossed with the torments of youth, yet now wee may re­pose our selues in the calmes of our age. I do remember, that thou and I did study in Rhodes in letters, and af­ter we had sowen weapons in Capua, it hath pleased the gods that the seedes of my Fortunes should ripen heere in Rome: and to thee, and to others bet­ter then I, Fortune would not giue one only eare. I doe not giue thee licence, that thy thought be suspicious of me, sith thou of my hart art made a faith­full Friend: for if vnconstant Fortune doth trust mee, to gather with trauell the grape, know thou that heere in my palace, thou shalt not want of the wine. The Gods will not suffer, that now in this moment, thou shuldst find my heart shut from thee, whose gates Two good properties of Marcus Aurelius. I found alwaies (for the space of twen­tie yeares) open vnto mee. Sith that my Fortunes wrought me to the Em­pire, I haue alwayes had two things things before mine eyes: that is to say, not to reuenge my selfe of mine enemies, neither to bee vnthankfull to my friends: For I pray to the Gods daylie, rather then hereafter, through vnthankfulnes my renowm should be defamed: that euen now with forget­fulnes my bodie should be buryed.

Let a man offer to the Gods what sacrifices he will, let him doe as much seruice to men as he can: yet if he be vnthankfull to his friend, hee ought in all, and for all, to bee vtterly condem­ned. Because thou shouldest see my [Page 126] friend Pulio, how greatly the aunci­ent friend ought to bee esteemed, 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 Greece, there was one named Periander, who was Prince & Gouernour a great while: and he had in him such liuelinesse of Spirit on the one side, and such couetousnesse of worldly goods on the other side, that the Historiographers are in doubte, whether was the greater, the Philoso­phy that hee taught reading in the Schooles, or the tyranny that hee v­sed in robbing the Common-wealth: for truly the science which is not grounded of truth, bringeth great da­mages to the person.

In the second yeare of my Empire, I was in the City of Corinth, where I saw the Graue which contained the bones of Periander, where about was engrauen in Greeke verses and old let­ter this Epitaph.

Within the compasse of this narrow graue,
Wretched Periander, enclosed lyes,
Whose cruel facts, could Greece alone not haue
So small a soyle his hunger could suffice.
The Epi­taph of Periander.
Here lodgeth oke, loe Periander dead,
His filthy flesh, the hungry wormes doe eate,
And liuing he, with Orphelines good was fed
His greedy guts did craue such dainty meate.
The Tyrant Periander stayeth here,
Whose life was built, to hinder all the rest,
And eke whose death, such profit large did bear
As brought reliefe to him that had the least.
Here wicked Periander, resteth now,
His life did cause great peopled realmes decay:
His death that forst, his liuing sprite to how,
Assurde them life, that stoode in brittle stay.
The cursed Periander heere doth lye,
Whose life did shed the poore and simple blood:
And eke that clambe, to riches rule so hye,
By others swette, they sought for wasting good.
Of Corinth loe, here Periander rest,
To seeme for iust, that equall Lawes did frame
Yet flitting from the square that they possest,
By vertues doome, deserude a Tyrants name,
The Catiue Periander sleepeth here,
That finisht hath his 80. years with shame,
And though his life that thousands bought so deer
Be faded thus, yet bloometh stil his blame.

There was more letters on the graue, but because it was alone in the fielde, the great waters had worne it, so that scarsely the letters could bee roade: and truely it was very olde, & in his time it seemed to bee a sump­tuous thing, but the negligence of reparation lost it quite: and it is not to bee maruelleed at, for in the end time is of such power, that it causeth [Page 127] renowmed men to be forgotten and all the sumptuousbuildings to decay and fall to the earth.

If thou wilt know, my friend Pu­lio, in what time the tyrant this Phi­losopher was, I will thou know, that when Catania the renowned City was builded in Cicilia, neere the Mount Ethna, and when Perdica was the 4. King of Macedonia, and that Cardiced was the third King of the Medes, and when Candare was fift king of the Li­beans, and that Assaradoche was ninth King of the Assyrians, and when Me­rodache was twelfth King of the Cal­deaus, and that Numa Pompilius raig­ned second King of the Romanes: and in the time of those so good Kinges, Periander raigned amongst the Assi­rians.

And it is meete thou know an o­ther thing also which is this, That this Periander was a Tyrant, not on­ly in deede, but also in renowme: so that they spake of no other thing tho­row Greece, but it tended hereunto: Though hee had euill works, hee had good words, and procured that the affayres of the Common-wealth should bee well redressed. For ge­nerally, There is no man so good, but a man may finde somewhat in him to bee reproued: neyther any man so euill, but hee hath some thing in him to bee com­mended.

I doe yet remember (of my age, being neyther too yong, nor too old) that I saw the Emperour Traian my Lord, suppe once in Agrippine: and it so chanced, that wordes were mo­ued to speake of good and euill Prin­ces in times past, as wel of the Greekes as of the Romans, that all those which were present there, cōmended great­ly the Emperour Octauian, and they all blamed the cruell Nero: for it is an ancient custom to flatter the prin­ces An vsuall custome a­mong all Nations. that are present and to murmur at Princes that are past.

When the good Emperour Tra­ian was at dinner, and when he praied in the Temple, it was maruell if any man saw him speake any word: and that day, since hee saw that they ex­cessinely praysed the Emperour Oc­tauian, and that the others charged the Emperour Nero with more then needed: the good Traian spake vnto them these words. I am glad you com­mend the Emperour Octauian, but I am angry you should in my presence speake euill of the Emperour NERO, and of none other: for it is great infamy to a Prince being aliue, to heare in his presence any Prince euill reported after his death. Truely the Emperour Octauian was very good, but yee will not deny me but hee might haue beene better: and the Emperour Nero was very euill: but you will graunt mee hee might haue beene worse. I speake this, be­cause Nero in his first fiue yeares was the best of all, and the other nine fol­lowing he was the worst of all: so that there is both cause to disprayse him, and also cause to commend him.

When a vertuous man will speake of Princes that are dead before Prin­ces which are aliue, hee is bound to prayse onely one of their vertues that they had, and hath no licence to re­ueale the vices whereof they were no­ted: for the good deserueth reward, because he endeauoureth himselfe to follow vertue: and the euill likewise deserueth pardon, because through frailety he hath consented to vice.

All these wordes the Emperour Traian spake, I being present, & they were spoken with such fiercenes, that all those which were there present both chaunged their colour, and also refrayned their tongues. For truly the shamelesse man feeleth not so much a great stripe of correction, as the gentle heart doth a sharpe worde of admonition.

I was willing to shew thee these [Page 128] things, my friend Pulio, because that since Traian spake for Nero, and that hee found in him some prayse, I doe thinke no lesse of the tyrant Perian­der, whom though for his euill works hee did, wee doe condemne: yet for his good words that he spake, and for the good lawes which hee made, wee doe prayse: For in the man that is euill, there is nothing more easier then to giue good counsell, and there is nothing more harder then to work well,

Periander made diuers lawes for the Common wealth of the Corinthi­ans, whereof here following, I wil de­clare some.

Wee ordaine and command, that if any by multiplying of wordes kill ano­ther (so that it were not by treason) Diuers laws made by to Periander the tyrant. that hee bee not therefore condemned to dye, but that they make him slaue perpe­tuall to the brother of him that is slaine, or to the next of his kinne or friendes: for a short death is a lesse paine then a long seruitude.

Wee ordaine and commaund, that if a­ny thiefe bee taken, hee shall not dye, but with a hote yron shall bee marked on the forehead to bee knowne for a theefe: for to shamelesse men long infamy is more paine then a short life.

wee ordaine and commaund, that the man or woman, which to the preiudice of an other shall tell any lye, shall for the space of a moneth carry a stone in their mouth: for it is not meete that hee which is wont to lye, should álwayes bee authorized for to speake.

Wee ordaine and commaund, that eue­ry man or woman, that is a quarreller and seditious person in the common wealth, bee with great reproach banished from the people: for it is vnpossible that hee should be in fauour with the gods, which is an enemy to his neighbor.

Wee ordaine and commaund, that if there bee any in the Common wealth, that haue receyued of an other a benefite, and that afterwards it is proued he was vnthankefull, that in such case they put The punish­ment of in­gratitude. him to death: for the man that of bene­fites receyued is vnthankefull, ought not to liue in the world among men.

Behold therefore my friend Pulio, the antiquity which I declared vnto thee, and how mercifull the Corinthi­ans were to murtherers, theeues and Pirates: And contrary, how seuere they were to vnthankefull people, whom they commaunded forthwith to be put to death.

And truely in mine opinion the Corinthians had reason, for there is nothing troubleth a wise man more, then to see him vnthankefull to him, whom heo hath shewed pleasure vn­to. I was willing to tell thee this hi­story of Periander for non other cause but to the end thou shouldest see and know, that for as much as I do great­ly blame the vice of vnthankefulnes, I will labour not to bee noted of the same: For hee that reproueth vice, is not noted to be vertuous: but hee which vtterly flyeth it.

Count vpon this my word that I tell thee, which thou shalt not thinke to bee fayned, that though I bee the Romane Emperor, I will be thy faith­full friend, and will not fayle to bee thankeful towards thee. For I esteeme it no lesse glory to know how to keep a friend by wisdome: then to come to the estate of an Emperour by Phy­losophy.

By the letter thou sentest, thou requiredst me of one thing to answere thee: for the which I am at my witts end: For I had rather open my trea­sure to thy necessities, then to open the books to answer to thy demands, 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 know, how to procure a secret of Antiquities past, then to heape vp treasures for the ne­cessities [Page 129] in time to come.

As the Philosopher maketh Philo­sophie his treasure of knowledge to liue in peace, and to hope, and to looke for death with honour, so the couetous (being such a one as hee is) maketh his treasure of worldly goods for to keepe and preserue life in this world in perpetual warres, and to end his life, and take his death with infa­my. Herein I sweare vnto thee, that one day employed in Philosophy is The com­mendation of Phyloso­phy. more worth, then ten thousand which are spent in heaping riches: For the life of a peaceable man is none other then a sweet peregrination: and the life of seditious persons is none other but a long death.

Thou requirest me, my friend Pu­lio, that I write vnto thee wherein the Ancients in times past had their feli­city: know thou that their desires were so diuers, that some dispraysed life, others desired it: some prolon­ged it, others did shorten it: som did not desire pleasure but trauels, others in trauels did not seeke but pleasures: that which variety did not proceede, but of diuers ends, for the tastes were diuers, and sundry men desired to tast diuers meates. By the immortall gods I swear vnto thee, that this thy request maketh me muse of thy life, to see that my Philosophy answereth thee not sufficiently therein: For if thou aske to proue mee, thou thinkest mee presumptuous: if thou demaund in mirth, thou countest mee to bee too light, if thou demaundest it not in good earnest, thou takest mee to bee simple: if thou demaundest mee for to shew it thee, be thou assured I am ready to learne it: if thou demandest it for to know it, I confesse I cannot teach it thee: if thou demandest it be­cause thou mayest be asked it, be thou assured that none will bee satisfied with my answere: and if perchance thou doest aske it, because sleeping hast dreamed it, seeing that now thou art awake, thou oughtest not to be­leeue a dreame: for all that the fan­tasie in the night doth imagine, the tong doth publish it in the morning.

O my friend Pulio, I haue reason to complaine of thee, for so much as thou doest not regard the authority of my person, nor the credite of thy Philosophy, wherefore I feare least they will iudge thee too curions in demaunding, and mee too simple in answering: all this notwithstanding, I determine to answere thee, not as I ought, but as I can, not according to the great thou demaundest, but ac­cording to the little I know, And part­ly I doe it to accomplish thy request, and also to fulfill my desire. And now I thinke that all which shal reade this letter, will bee cruell Iudges of my ignorance.

Of the Philosopher Epicurius.

IN the Olimpiade: 103. Serges being King of Perses, and The battell betweene the Atheni­ans and Lysander. the cruell tyrant Ly­sander Captaine of the Peloponenses, a famous battell was fought betweene the Athenians and Lysander, vpon the great Riuer of Aegeon, whereof Lysander had the victory: and truly vnlesse the histo­ries deceyue vs, the Athenians took this conflict grieuously, because the battell was lost more through negligence of their Captaines then through the great number of theyr enemies.

For truely many winne victo­ries more through the cowardli­nesse that some haue, then for the hardinesse that others haue. The [Page 130] Philosopher Epicurus at that time flo­rished, who was of a liuely wit, but of a meane stature, and had memorie fresh, being meanely learned in Phi­losophy, but he was of much eloquēce and for to encourage and counsell the Athenians, he was sent to the warres: For when the Ancients tooke vpon them any warres, they chose first Sa­ges to giue counseil, then Captains to leade the souldiers. And amongst the Prisoners the Philosopher Epicurus was taken, to whom the tyrant Lysan­der gaue good entertainement and honoured him aboue all other: and after hee was taken, hee neuer went from him, but read Philosophy vnto him, and declared vnto him histories of times past, and of the strength and vertues of many Greekes and Troians. The tyrant Lysander reioyced greatly at these things: For truly tyrants take great pleasure to heare the prowesse and vertues of Ancients past, and to follow the wickednesse and vices of them that are present.

Lysander therefore taking the tri­umph, and hauing a Nauie by sea, and a great Army by land, vpon the riuer of Aegeon, he and his Captaines for­got the danger of the wars, and gaue the bridle to the flothfull flesh, so that to the great preiudice of the Com­mon wealth they led a dissolute and idle life. For the manner of tyrannous Princes is, to leaue off their ownt trauell, and to enioy that of other mens.

The Philosopher Epicurus was al­wayes brought vp in the excellent V­niuersity of Athens, whereas the Philosophers liued in so great pouerty, that naked they slept on the ground: The pouer­ty of the Philoso­phers of A­thens. their drinke was colde water, none a­mongst them had any house proper: they despised riches as pestilence, and labored to make peace where discord was, they were onely defenders of the Common wealth, they neuer spake any idle word, and it was a sacriledge amongst them to heare a lye: and finally, it was a Law inuiolable a­mongst them, that the Philosopher that should bee idle should bee bani­shed, and he that was vicious should be put to death.

The wicked Epicurius forgetting the doctrine of his Master, and not e­steeming grauity (whereunto the Sa­ges are bound) gaue himselfe wholly both in words and deedes vnto a vo­luptuous & beastly kind of life wher­in he put his whole felicity. For hee sayde, There was no other felicity for slothfull men, then to sleepe in soft beds: for delicate persons to feele neyther hote nor cold: for fleshly men to haue at their pleasure amorus Dames: for drunkards not to want any pleasant wines, and glut­tons to haue their fils of al delicate meats: for herein hee affirmed to consist all worldly felicity.

I doe not maruell at the multi­tude of his Schollers which hee had, hath, and shall haue in the world. For at this day there are very few in Rome, that suffer not themselues to be mastered with vices: and the mul­titude of those which liue at their owne wils and sensuality, are infinite. And to tell the truth, my friend Pulio, I do not maruell that there hath been vertuous, neither doe I muse that there hath beene vitious: for the ver­tuous hopeth to rest himselfe with the Gods in an other World by his well doing: and if the vitious bee viti­ous, I doe not maruell, though he will goe and engage himselfe to the vices of this world, since he doth not hope, neyther to haue pleasure in this, not yet to enioy rest with the gods in the other. For truly the vnstedfast beleefe of an other life (after this) wherein the wicked shall bee punished, and the good The small hope of the wicked. rewarded causeth that now a dayes the victous and vices raigne so as they doe.

Of the Philosopher Eschilus.

ARtabanus beeing the sixt king of Persians, and Quintus Conci­natus the husband­man The Phi­losopher Aeschilus described. beeing onely Dictator of the Ro­manes, in the Pro­uince of Tharse, there was a Philoso­pher named Aeschilus, who was euill fauoured of countenance, deformed of body, fierce in his lookes, and of a very grosse vnderstanding, but hee was fortunate of credite: for he had no lesse credite amongst the Tharses, then Homer had among the Greekes: They say, that though this Philoso­pher was of a rude knowledge, yet o­therwise he had a very good naturall wit, and was very diligent in harde things, and very patient with these that did him wrong, hee was excee­ding couragious in aduersity, and moderate in prosperities. And the thing that I most of all delighted in him was, that hee was courteous and gentle in his conuersation, and both pithie and eloquent in his communi­cation. For that man onely is happy, where all men prayse his life, and no man reproueth his tongue.

The auncient Greekes declare in their Histories, that this Philosopher Aeschilus was the first that inuented Aeschilus the first in­uenter of Tragedies. Tragedies, and that got money to re­present them: and sith the inuention was new and pleasant, many did not onely follow him, but they gaue him much of their goods.

And maruel not thereat my friend Pulio, for the lightnesse of the Com­mon people is such, that to see vaine things all will runne: and to heare the excellency of vertues, there is not one will goe.

After this Philosopher Aeschylus had written many bookes specially of Tragedies, and that he had afterward trauelled through many Countries & Realmes, at the last hee ended the re­sidue of his life, neare the Isles which are adioyning vnto the Lake of Meatts.

For as the diuine Plato saveth, when the auncient Philosophers were young, they studied, when they came to be men they trauelled, and then when they were old they retyred home.

In mine opinion this Philosopher was wise to do as he did, and no lesse shall men now a dayes bee that will imitate him. For the Fathers of wis­dome are Science and Experience: and in this consisteth true knowledge when the man at the last returneth home from the troubles of the World.

Tell me, my friend Pulio, I pray thee, what dooth it profite him that hath learned much, that hath heatd much, that hath knowne much, that hath seene much, that hath beene farre, that hath bought much, that hath suffered much, and hath proued much, that had much, if after great trauell he doth not retire to repose himselfe a little: truly hee cannot be counted wise but a foole that wil­lingly offereth himselfe to trauell, & hath not the wit to procure himselfe rest: for in mine opinion, the life without rest, is a long death.

By chance as this ancient Philoso­pher was sleeping by the lake Meatis, a Hunter had a Hare with him in a Cage of woode to take other Hares by: whereon the Eagle seazed, which tooke the Cage with the Hare on high: and seeing hee could not eate it, hee cast it downe againe, which fell on the heade of this Philosopher, and killed him.

This Philosopher Aeschylus was [Page 132] demaunded in his life time, wherein the felicity of this life consisted? hee answered, that in this opinion it con­sisted in sleeping, and his reason was Aeschilus his opinion, wherein the felicity of this life consisted. this, that when wee sleepe the en­tisements of the flesh do not prouoke vs, nor the enemy persecute vs, ney­ther the friends do importune vs, nor the colde winter oppresse vs, nor the heate of long Sommer doth annoy vs, nor yet wee are not angry for a­ny thing wee see, nor wee take any care for any thing we heare.

Finally, when wee sleepe, wee feele not the anguishes of the body: neyther suffer the passion of the mind to come.

To this end yee must vnderstand that when they were troubled, hee gaue them drinks, which caused them immediatly to sleepe, so that so soone as the man did drinke it, so soone hee was a sleepe.

Finally, all the study wherein the Epicurians exercised themselues, was in eating and seeking meates: and the chiefe study of this Aeschilus was in sleeping, and hauing soft beds,

Of the Philosopher Pindarus.

IN the yeare of the foundation of the City of Rome, 262. Darius the second of that name, King of Persia, who was the sonne of Histap­sie, and in the lynage of Kinges, the fourth King of Persia, Iunius Brutus, and Lucius Collatinus being Consuls in Rome which were the first Consuls that were in Rome.

There was in the great City of Thebes in Egypt, a Philosopher named Pindarus, who was Prince of that Realme. They write of this Philoso­pher, that in Philosophy he excelled all those of his time, and also in tea­ching, singing, and playing of Mu­sicke, hee was more excellent then a­ny of all his Predecessors: for the Thebanes affirmed, that there was neuer any seen of such aptnes in spea­king and so excellent deliuering of his fingers in playing, as Pindarus was: and moreouer hee was a great Morall Philosopher, but not so ex­cellent in naturall Philosophy: For hee was a quiet and vertuous man, & could better worke then reach, which thing is contrary now a dayes in our Sages of Rome. For they know little, and speake much: and worst of all in their wordes they are circumspect, and in their deedes very negligent. The diuine Plato in his booke that he made of Lawes, mentioneth this Phi­losopher, and Iunius Rusticus in his Thebaide sheweth one thing of him, and that is, that an Ambassadour of Lides being in Thebes, seeing Pinda­rus to bee of a vertuous life, and very disagreeable in his words, hee spake vnto him in such words.

O Pindarus, If thy wordes were so limed before men, as thy workes are pure before the Gods, I sweare vnto thee by those Gods that are immortall, that thou shouldest bee as much esteemed in Life, as Promotheus was; and shouldest leaue as much memory of thee after thy death in Egypt, as the great Homere left of his life in Greece.

They demaunded of this Pinda­rus wherein felicity consisted? hee aunswered: In such sort yee ought to Wherein true felicity consisteth. know, that the inward scule followeth in many things (for the most part) the out­ward body: the which thing presuppo­sed I say, that hee that feeleth no griefe in his body, may well bee called happy: For truly if the flesh bee not well, the heart can haue no rest.

Therefore according to the coun­sell [Page 133] of Pindarus, the Thebanes were a­boue all other Nations and people most diligent to cure the diseases of their bodies. Annius Seuerus sayth, that they were let bloud euery month for the great aboundance of bloud in their bodies. They vsed euery weeke vnmitations for the full stomackes.

They continued the bathes for to auoide opilations. They carried sweet fauours about them against the euill and infected ayres. And finally, they studyed nought else in Thebes, but to preserue and keepe their bodies as deliciously as they could inuent.

Of the Philosopher Zeno.

IN the Olimpiade 133. Cneus Seruil­lus, and Caius Brisius then Consuls Of the Philosopher Zeno. in Rome, which were appointed against the Artikes in the moneth of Ianuary, immediately after they were chosen: and in the 29. yeare of the raigne of Ptolomeus Philadelphus, this great Prince Ptolomeus built in the coast of Alexandry a great Tower which hee named Pharo, for the loue of a louer of his named Pharo Doloui­na. This Tower was built vpon foure engines of glasse, it was large and high, made foure square, & the stones of the Tower were as bright and shi­ning as glasse, so that the Tower being twenty foot of breadth, if a candle burned within, those without might see the light thereof.

I let thee know my friend Pulio, that the auncient Historiograpers did so much esteeme his building, that they compared it to one of the seuen buildings of the World.

At that time when these thinges flourished, there was in Egypt a Philosopher called Zeno, by whose counsell and industrie Ptolomeus built that so famous a Tower, and gouer­ned his land. For in the olde time the Princes that in their life were not gouerned by Sages, were recorded after their death in the Register of fooles.

As this Tower was strong, so hee had great ioy of the same, because he kept his dearely beloued Pharo Dolo­uina therein enclosed, to the end shee should bee well kept, and also well contented. He had his wiues in A­lexandria, but for the most part hee continued with Pharo Dolouina. For in the old time, the Perses, Siconians, and the Chaldeans did not marry, but to haue children to enherite theyr goods: and the residue of their life, (for the most part) to leade with their Concubines in pleasure and delight: The Egyptians had it in great estima­tion that were great Wrestlers, espe­cially, if they were wise men, and a­boue all things, they made great de­fiance against strangers: and all the multitude of wrastlers was continual­ly greate: so there were notable Masters among them. For truly he that dayly vseth one thing, shall at the last be excellent therein.

The matter was thus: That one day amongst them, there were many Egyptians, there was one that would not bee ouerthrowne, nor cast by any man vnto the earth.

This Philosopher Zeno percey­uing the strength and courage of this great Wrastler: thought it much for his estimation if he might throw him in wrastling, and in prouing he threw The strength of Zeno. him dead to the earth, who of none other could euer be cast.

This victory of Zeno was so greatly to the contentation of his person, that hee spake with his tongue, and wrote with his penne, that there was none other ioy or felicity, then to know how to haue the strength of the Armes to [Page 134] cast downe others at his feet. The reason of this Philosopher was, that hee sayde it was a greater kinde of victory to ouerthrow one to the erth, then to ouerthrow many in the wars: For in the warres one onely wrong­fully taketh the victory, since there bee many that doe winne it: but in wresiling, as the victory is to one a­lone, so let the onely victory and glory remaine to him, and therefore in this thing felicity consisteth: for what can bee more, then the conten­tion of the heart. Truly wee call him in this world happy that hath his heart con­tent, and his body in health. Wherein felicity consisteth.

Of the Philosopher Anacharsis.

WHen the King Heritaches raigned among the Medes, and that Tarquin Priscus raigned in Rome, there was in the coasts of Scithia a Philosopher called Anacharsis, who was borne in the Ci­ty of Epimenides. Cicero greatly com­mended the doctrine of this Philoso­pher, and that he cannot tell which of these two things were greater in him, that is to say, the profoundnesse of Knowledge that the Gods had giuen him, or the cruell malice wherewith he persecuted his enemies. For truely as Pithagoras saith. Those which of men are most euill willed, of the gods are best beloued.

This Philosopher Anacharsis then being as he was of Scithia (which na­tion amongst the Romanes was estee­med Barbarous) it chaunced, that a malitious Romane sought to dis­please the Philosopher in wordes: and truely hee was moued thereun­to, more through malice then tho­row simplicity: For the outwarde malitious words are a manifest to­ken of the inward malitious hart.

This Romane therefore sayde to the Philosopher: It is vnpossible A­nacharsis that thou shouldest bee a Scithian borne: for a man of such e­loquence cannot bee of such a Barba­rous Nation? To whome Anacharsis answered:

Thou hast sayde well, and herein I assent to thy wordes, howbeit I doe not allow thy intention: for as by reason thou mayest disprayse mee to bee of a barbarous Country, and commend mee for a good life: so I may iustly accuse thee of a wicked life, and prayse thee of a good Country.

And herein bee thou Iudge of both, which of vs two shall haue the most praise in the World to come: neyther thou that art borne a Romane, and leadest a bar­barous No respect of persons with God. life: or I that am borne a Scy­thian, and leade the life of a Romane: For in the end, in the Garden of this life I had rather bee a greene Apple-tree and beare fruit, then to bee a drie Li­ban drawne on the ground.

After that Anacharsis had been in Rome a long time, and in Greece, hee determined for the loue of his Coun­try (now being aged) to return home to Scythia, whereof a brother of his named Cadmus was King, who had the name of a King, but in deede hee was a tyrant,

Since this good Philosopher sawe his brother exercise the workes of a Tyrant, and seeing also the people so desolate, hee determined to giue his brother the best counsell he could, to ordayne lawes to the people, and in good order to gouerne them: which thing being seene of the Barbarous, by the consent of them all, as a man, who inuented new deuises to liue in the World, before them all, open­ly was put to death.

For I will thou know O my friend Pulio, that there is no grea­ter token that the whole Common [Page 135] wealth is full of vice: then when they kill or banish those which are vertu­ous therein: so therefore as they led this Philosopher to death, he sayd hee was vnwilling to take his death, and loath to lose his life: wherefore one sayde vnto him these wordes: Tell me Anacharsis, sith thou art a man so vertuous, so sage, and so olde, me thin­keth it should not grieue thee to leaue this miserable life: For the vertuous man should desire the company of the ver­tuous men, the which this world wanteth: The Sage ought to desire to liue with other Sages; whereof the world is destitute: and the olde man ought little to esteeme the losse of his life, since by true experience hee knoweth in what trauels he passed his dayes: For truely it is a kind of folly for a man which hath trauelled and finished a dangerous and long iour­ney, to lament to see himselfe now in the end thereof,

Anacharsis answered him. Thou speakest very good words my friend, and I would that thy life were as thy counsell is: but it grieueth mee that in this conflict I haue neyther vnderstan­ding, nor yet sense to taste, not that I haue time enough to thanke thee: For I let thee know, that there is no tongue can expresse the griefe which a man fee­leth, when hee ought forthwith to dye. I dye, and as thou seest they kill me one­ly for that I am vertuous, I feele no­thing that tormenteth my heart so much, as King Cadmus my brother doth, for that I cannot bee reuenged: For in my opinion the chiefe felicity of man consi­steth in knowing, and being able to re­uenge the iniurie done without reason, before a man doth end his life.

It is a commendable thing that the Philosopher pardon iniuries (as The opini­on of A­nacharsis. the vertuous Philosophers haue ac­customed to doe) but it should bee also iust, that the iniuries which wee forgiue, the Gods should therewith bee charged to see reuengement: For it is a hard thing to see a tyrant put a vertuous man to death, and neuer to see the Tyrant to come to the like,

Mee thinketh my friend Pulio, that this Philosopher put all his felici­ty in reuenging an iniurie, during the like in this world.

Of the Sarmates.

THe Mount Caucasus as the Cosmographers say, doth deuide in the middest great Asia, the which beginneth in Indea, and endeth in Scithia, and according to the variety of the people which in­habite the villages, hath this mount diuers names, and those which dwell towards the Indians differ much from the others. For the more the Coun­trey is full of mountaines, so much the more the people are Barbarous. Amongst all the other Cities which are adiacent vnto the same, there is a kinde of people called Sarmates, and that is the Countrey of Sarmatia, which standeth vpon the riuer of Ta­nays. There grow no vines in the Prouince, because of the great colde: and it is true, that among all the O­rientall nations there are no people, which more desire Wine then they doe: For the thing which wee lacke is commonly most desired.

These people of Sarmatia are good men of Warre, though they are vnarmed, they esteeme not much delicate meates, nor sumptu­ous The felicity of the Sar­matians. apparrell: for all their felicity consisteth in knowing how they might fill themselues with Wine.

In the yeare of the foundation of Rome, p 318. our auncient Fathers determined to wage battell against those people, and other Barba­barous [Page 136] Nations, and appointed a Consull called Lucius Pius. And sith in that warres fortune was variable, they made a Truce, and afterwardes all their Captaines yeelded them­selues and their country into the sub­iection of the Romane Empire, onely because the Consull Lucius Pius in a banquet (that hee made) filled them with Wine.

Within this tombe Lucius Pius lyes,
The Epi­taph of Lu­cius Pius.
That whilom was a Consull great in Rome,
And daunted eke (as shame his slaunder cryes)
The Sarmates sterne not by Mauors his doome.
But by reproofe, and shame of Romane armes,
He vanquisht hath, not as the Romanes vse,
But as the bloudy tirants, that with swarms
Of huge deceites, the fierce assaults refuse.
Not in the warres by biting weapons stroke,
But at the boorde with sweet delighting foode,
Not in the hazard fight he did them yoke.
But feeding all in rest, he stole their blood.
Nor yet with mighty Mars, in open field,
He rest their liues with sharpe ypersing speares,
But with the push of drunken Bacchus shield,
Home to hie Rome, the triumph loe he beares.

The sacred Senate set this Epi­taph here, because all Romane Cap­taines, should take example of him: For the Maiesty of the Romanes con­sisteth not in vanquishing their ene­mies by vices and deliciousnesse, but by weapons and prayers,

The Romanes were very sore grie­ued with the and a city of this Con­sull Lucius Pius, and not contented to haue beheaded him, and to haue set on his graue so defamous a title: but made proclamation forthwith tho­row out all Rome by the sound of a Trumpet, how al that Lucius Pius had done, the sacred Senate condemned for nothing, and should stand to no An ancient custome in Rome. effect: For there was an auncient Law in Rome, when they beheaded a­ny by iustice, they should also take away the authority hee had in Rome.

After the warres were ended, and all the land of Sarmatia subiect, the Consull Lucius Pius came to Rome, & for reward of his trauell, required the accustomed triumph: the which was not onely denyed him, but also in re­compence of his fact, hee was open­ly beheaded, and by the decree of all the Senate, about his graue was writ­ten this Epitaph.

And not contented with these things the sacred Senate wrote to the Sar­mates, that they did release them of their homage, making themselues subiects of the Romanes: wherefore they restored them againe to their liberty.

They did this thing because the custome among the stoute and vali­ant Romanes was, not to gette nor winne Realmes in making their ene­mies drunke with delicate Wines, but in shedding their proper bloud in plaine field.

I haue tolde thee this my friend Pulio, because the Consull Lucius Pi­us did perceyue that the Sarmates put all their felicity to ingorge them­selues with wine.

Of the Philosopher Chylo.

IN the 15. Dinastia of the Lacede­monians, and Deodeus beeing King of Medes, Gigion being king of Li­des, Argeus being king among the Ma­cedonians, and Tullius Hostilius king of the Romaines: in the Olympiade 27. there was in Athens a Phylosopher borne in Greece, whose name was Chy­lo: one of the seuen Sages, which the Greekes had in theyr treasurie.

In that time there was great warres betweene the Athenians, and the Co­rinthians, as wee may perceyue by the Greeks histories which we see written.

Since Troy was ruinated and de­stroyed, there was neuer peace in Greece, for the warres betwixte the Warres in Greece, e­uer since the destruction of Troy. Greeks and Troyans was neuer so great as that which afterwards they made a­mong themselues.

Sith the Greekes were now wise mē, they did deuide the offices of the Commonwealth, according to the a­bility of euery person, that is to know, that to the stoute and hardy men they gaue the gouernment: to the sage they recommended the Embasies of of strange countreys.

And vpon this occasion the Atheni­ans sent the Phylosopher Chilo to the Corinthians to treate of peace, who came vnto the cittie of Corinth.

By chaunce on that day there was ce­lebrated a great Feast, wherefore hee found all men playing at dice, the wo­men solacing themselues in theyr gar­dens: the Priestes shorte with theyr crosse-bowes in the Temples: the Se­natours played in the consistory at ta­bles: the maisters of Fence played in the streetes: And to conclude, hee found them all playing.

The Philosopher seeing these things, without speaking to any man, or ligh­ting off from his horse, returned to his countrey, without declaring his mes­sage: and when the Corinthians went after him, and asked him why hee did not declare the cause of his comming, he aunswered:

Friends, I am come from Athens to Corinth, not without great trauell, and now I returne from Corinth to Athens not lattle offended: and yee might haue seene it, because I spake neuer a word to a­ny of you of Corinth: For I haue no com­mission to treate of peace with vnthrifty players, but with sage gouernours. Those of Athens commaunded mee not to keepe Idlenes and pastimes ha­ted by the philosopher company with those that haue theyr hāds occupyed with Dyce: but with those that haue theyr bodyes loden with harnes, and with those which haue theyr Eyes dazeled with Bookes. For those men which haue warres with the Dyce, it is vnpossible they should haue peace with theyr Neigh­bours.

After he had spoken these words, he returned to Athens. I let thee vnder­stand my friende Pulio, that the Corin­thians thinke it to be the greatest feli­city in the world to occupy dayes and nights in playes: and maruel not here­at, neither laugh thou them to scorne. For it was told mee by a Greeke being in Antioche, that a Corinthian esteemed it more felicitie to winne a game, then the Romaine Captaine did to winne a Triumph.

As they say the Corinthians were wise and temperate men, vnlesse it were in Playes, in the which thing they were too vicious. Me thinke my friend Pu­lio, that I answer thee more amply then thou requirest, or that my health suffe­reth, that which is little: so that both thou shalt be troubled to read it, and I here shall haue paine to write it.

I will make thee a briefe summe of all the others which now come to my remembrance, the which in diuerse­things haue put theyr ioy and chie­fest felicities.

Of Crates the Philosopher.

CRates the Philosopher put his fe­licity to haue good fortune in prosperous nauigation, saying, that Crates the Philosopher hee which sayleth by sea, can neuer haue perfect ioy at his his heart, so long as hee confidereth that between death and life there is but one bourd: Wherefore the heart neuer feeleth so great ioy, as when in the Hauen he remembreth the perils which hee hath escaped on the sea.

Of Estilpho the Philosopher.

EStilpho the Philosopher put all his felicity to bee of great power, Estilpho. saying, that the man which can doe little, is worth little, and he that hath little, the gods doe him wrong to let him liue so long: For hee onely is happy which hath power to oppresse his enemies, and hath wherewith­all to succour himselfe, and reward his friendes.

Of Simonides the Philosopher.

SImonides the Philosopher put all his felicity to bee well beloued Simonides. of the people, saying, That churlish men and euill conditioned, should bee sent to the mountaines amongst brute beasts, For there is no grea­ter happinesse or felicity in this life, then to bee beloued of all in the Common-wealth.

Of Archita the Philosopher.

ARchita the Phylosopher, had all his felicitie in conquering a Bar­tell, Archita. saying that naturally man is so much friend to himselfe, and de­sireth so much to come to the chiefe of his enterprise: that though for little trifles he played, yet he would not bee ouercome: For the heart willingly suffereth all the trauels of the life, in hope afterwardes to win the victory.

Of Gorgias the Philosopher.

GOrgias the Philosopher put al his felicity to heare a thing which Gorgias. pleased him, saying, That the body feeleth not so much a great wound, as the heart doth an euill word: For truely there is no musicke that soun­deth so sweete to the eares, as the pleasant wordes are sauourie to the heart.

Of Chrysippus the Philosopher,

CHrysippus the Philosopher had all his felicity in this Worlde, Chrysippus. in making great buildings, saying, that those which of themselues left no memory, both in their life, and after their death deserued infacny: For great and sumptuous buildings, are perpetuall monuments of noble courages.

Of Antisthenes the Philosopher.

ANtisthenes the Philosopher put al his felicity in renowne after his Antistenes. death. For sayeth hee, there is no losse but of life, that flitteth without fame: For the Wise man needeth not feare to die: so he leaue a me­mory of his vertuous life behinde him.

Of Sophocles the Philosopher.

SOphocles had al his ioy in hauing children, which should possesse the inheritance of their Father: Sophocles. saying that the graft of him, that hath no children, surmounteth aboue all other sorrowes: for the greatest fe­licity in this life is to haue honour & riches, and afterwardes to leaue chil­dren which shall inherite them.

Of Euripides the Philosopher.

Euripides the Philosopher had all his ioy in keeping a fayre woman, Euripides. saying his tongue with wordes could not expresse the griefe which the hart endureth, that is accombred with a foule woman: therefore of of truth, hee which hapneth of a good & ver­tuous woman, ought of right in his life to desire no more pleasure.

Of Palemon the Philosopher.

PAlemon put the felicity of men in Palemon. eloquenee, saying and swearing that the man that cannot reason of all things, is not so like a reasonable man, as he is a brute beast: for accor­ding to the opinions of many, there is no greater felicity in this wretched world, then to be a man of a pleasant tongue, and of an honest life.

Of Themistocles the Philosopher.

THemistocles put all his felicity, Themisto­cles. in discending from a Noble lynage, saying, that the man which is come of a meane stocke, is not bound to make of a renowmed fame: for truly the vertues and prow­esses of them that are past, are not but an example to moue them to take great enterprises which are present.

Of Aristides the Philosopher.

ARistides the Philosopher put all his felicity in keeping temporal goods saying, that the man Aristides. which hath not wherwith to eate, nor to sustaine his life, it were better coū ­sell for him, of his free will to goe into the graue, then to do any other thing: For he onely shall bee called happy in this world, who hath no neede to en­ter into an other mans house.

Of Heraclitus the Philosopher.

HEraclitus put al his felicity in hea­ping Heraclitus. vp treasure, saying that the prodigall man, the more begetteth, the more he spendeth, but he hath the respect of a wise man, who can keep a secret trea­sure for the necessitie to come. Thou hast now sufficiently vnderstood my friend Pulio that 7. moneths since, I haue been taken with the feuer quar­taine, and I sweare vnto thee by the immortall Gods, that at this present instant writing vnto thee, my hand [Page 140] shaketh which is an euident token, that the colde doth take mee, where­fore I am constrained to conclude this matter which thou demaundest mee although not according to my desire: For amongst true friendes, though the workes doe cease where­with they serue: yet therefore the in­ward parts ought not to quaile, wher­with they loue.

If thou doest aske mee my friend Pulio, what I thinke of all that is aboue spoken, and to which of those I doe sticke: I answere thee: That in this No perfect felicity in this world. World I doe not graunt any to bee happy, and if there be any, the gods haue them with them: because on the one side, chosing the plaine and drye way without clay, and on the other side all stony and myerie, wee may rather call this life the precipita­tion of the euill, then the safegard of the good.

I will speake but one word onely, but marke well what thereby I meane which is, that amongst the mishaps of fortune wee dare say, that there is no felicitie in the World: And hee onely is happy from whom wisdome hath plucked enuious aduersity, and that afterwards is brought by wise­dome to the highest felicitie. And though I would, I cannot endure a­ny longer, but that the immortall Gods haue thee in their custody, and that they preserue vs from euill for­tune: Sith thou art retired now vnto Bethinie, I know well thou wouldest I should write thee some newes from Rome, and at this present there are none, but that the Carpentines and Lusitaines are in great strife & dissen­tion in Spaine.

I receiued letters how that the bar­barous were quiet, though the Host that was in Ilium were in good case: yet notwithstanding the Army is som­what fearefull and timorous. For in all the coast and borders, there hath beene a great plague.

Pardon me my friend Pulio, for that I am so sickly, that yet I am not come to my selfe: for the feuer quar­tane is so cruel a disease, that he which hath it, contenteth himselfe with no­thing, neyther taketh pleasure in any thing. I send thee two of the best horses that can be found in al Spaine: and also I send thee two cups of gold of the richest that can bee found in Alexandria. And by the law of a good man I sweare vnto thee, that I desire to send thee two or three how­ers of those which trouble mee in my feuer quartane.

My wife Faustine saluteth thee and of her part, and mine also to Cas­sia thy olde mother, and noble Wid­dow we haue commended. Marcus the Romane Emperour with his own hand writeth this, and againe com­mendeth him vnto his deere friend Pulio.

CHAP. XLI. That Princes and great Lords ought not to esteeme themselues for being fayre, and well proportioned,

IN the time that Io­shua triumphed a­mongst the He­brewes, and that Dardanus passed from great Greece to Samotratia, and when the sons of Egenor were seeking their sister Europe, and in the time that Siculus raigned in Scicil, in great Asia, in the realme of Egypt, was buil­ded a great City called Thebes, the which K. Busiris built, of whom Dio­dorus Siculus at large mentioneth. Plinie in the 36. Chapter of his natu­rall history, and Homer in the second of his Iliades, & Statius in al the booke of his Thebiade doe declare great [Page 139] maruels of this City of Thebes, which thing ought greatly to bee esteemed, for a man ought not to thinke that fayned which so excellent authours haue written. A descripti­on of the City of Thebes.

For a truth they say, that Thebes was in circuit forty miles, and that the walles were thirty stades hie and in bredth sixe.

They say also that the City had a hundred gates very sumptuous and strong, and in euery gate two hun­dred Horsemen watched.

Through the midst of Thebes pas­sed a great riuer, the which by milles and fish did greately profite the City.

When Thebes was in his prospe­rity, they say, that there was two hun­dred thousand fires, and besides all this, all the Kings of Egypt were bu­ried in that place.

As Strabo sayeth, De situ orbis, when Thebes was destroyed with ene­mies, they found therein seuenty se­uen Strabo de situ orbis. Tombes of Kings which had bin buried there.

And here is to bee noted, that all those tombes were of vertuous kings: for among the Aegyptians it was a law A Law a­mong the Aegyptians inuiolable, that the King which had beene wicked in his life should not bee buried after his death: Before the noble and worthy Numantia was founded in Europe, the rich Carthage in Affricke, and the hardy Rome in I­taly, the goodly Capua in Campaigne, and the great Argentine in Germanie, and the holy Helia in Palestine: The­bes onely was the most renowmed of all the World: For the Thebanes amongst all Nations were renowned, as well for their riches, as for their buildings, and also because in their lawes and customes they had many notable and seuere things, and all the men were seuere in their works, al­though they would not bee knowne by their extreame doings. Homer saith that the Thebanes had fiue customes, wherein they were more extreame then any other Nation.

1 The first was, that the children drawing to fiue yeeres of age, were marked in the forehead with a hot Iron, because in what places soeuer they came they should be knowne for Thebanes by the marke.

2 The second was, that they should accustome their children to trauaile alwayes on soote. And the occasion why they did this was, because the E­gyptians kept their beasts for their Gods: and therefore whensoeuer they trauelled, they neuer rid on horsebacke, because they should not seeme to sit vpon their god.

3 The third was that none of the Citizens of Thebes should marry with any of strāge nations, but rather cau­sed thē to mary parents with parents, because the friendes marrying with friends they thought the friendship and loue should be more sure.

4 The fourth custome was, that no Thebane should in any wise make a house for himselfe to dwell in, but first By the example of the Thebanes is shewed the duty of euery Chri­stian. hee should make his graue wherein hee should bee buried.

[...] Mee thinketh that in this point the Thebanes were not too extreame, nor excessiue, but that they did like sage and wise men: yea and by the law of verity I sweare, that they were sager then wee are. For if at least we did imploy our thought but two houres in the weeke to make our graue: It is vnpossible but that wee should correct euery day our life,

3 The fift custome was, that all the boyes which were exceeding fayre in theyr face, should be by them strangled in the cradell: and all the gyrles which were extreame foule, were by them killed and sacrificed to the Gods. Saying, that the Gods forgot themselues, when they made the men fayre, and the women foule: [Page 142] For the man which is very fayre, is but an vnperfect woman: and the wo­man which is extreame foule, is but a sauage and wilde beast.

The greatest God of the Thebanes, was Isis who was a red bull nourished in the riuer of Nile, and they had a cu­stome, that all those which had red haire immediate should be sacrifised. The contrary they did to the beasts, for sith their God was a Bull of tawny colour, none durst bee so bold to kill any beasts of the same colour. In such forme and maner, that it was lawful to kill both men and women, and not the brute beasts.

I doe not say this well done of the An in hu­mane cu­stome a­mong the Thebans. Thebanes to slay their children, nor yet I do say that it was well done to sacri­fise men and women, which had red or tawny haire, nor I thinke it a thing rea­sonable, that they should doe reue­rence to the beasts of that colour: but I wonder why they should so much despise foule women and faire men, sith all the world is peopled both with with faire and foule. Then sith those barbarous (liuing 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 esteeme the beauty of the body: knowing that most commonly thereupon ensueth the vncleannesse of the soule.

Vnder the Christall stone lyeth oft­times a dangerous worme, in the faire wall is nourished the venomous Co­luler, within the middle of the white tooth is ingendred great paine to the gummes, in the finest cloth the moths do most hurt, and the most fruitfull tree by wormes is soonest perished. I meane, that vnder the cleane bodyes and faire countenances, are hid many and abominable vices. Truly not onely to children which are not wise, but to all other which are light and frayle, beutie is nothing else but the mother of many vices, and the hinderer of all vertues. Let Princes and great Lords beleeue me, which thinke to be fayre and well disposed, that where there is great aboundance of corporall goods Beauty the mother of vices. and graces, there ought to be great bones of vertues to bee able to beare them. For the most high trees by great winds are shaken: I say, that it is vanity to bee vaine glorious in any thing of this world be it neuer so perfit: and al­so I say that it is a great vanitie to bee prowd, of corporall beautie. For a­mong all the acceptable gifts that na­ture gaue to the mortals, there is no­thing more superfluous in man, and lesse necessary, then the beauty of the body. For truly whether be we faire or foule, we are nothing the better belo­ued of God, neither thereby the more hated of men, O blindnesse of the world! O life which neuer liueth! O death which neuer shall end! I know not why man through the accident of this beauty should or durst take vpon him any vaine glory or presumption: sith he knoweth that all the fairest, and most perfitest of flesh, must be sacrificed to the wormes in the graue. And know also, that all the propernesse of the members shall be forfeited to the hungrie wormes which are in the earth.

Let the great scorne the little as much as they will, the fayre mocke the foule at their pleasure, the whole dis­daine the sicke, the well made enuy the deformed, the white hate the blacke, and the Giants despise the Dwarfes: yet in the ende all shall haue an ende. Truly in my opinion, the trees beare Time the consumer of al things not the more fruit, for that they are straight onely, nor for being high, nei­ther for giuing great shadow, nor for being beautifull, nor yet for being great. By this comparison I meane, that though a noble and stout man be proper of person, and noble of linage, shadowing of fauor, comely in coun­tenance, in renowne very high, and in the commonwealth puissant, that [Page 143] therefore he is not the better in this life.

For truely the common wealthes are not altered by the simple laborers which trauell in the fields: but by the vicious men which take great ease in their liues. Vnlesse I be deceiued, the Swine and other beasts are fed vnder The smalest creatures profitable in the com­monwealth. the Oakes with the Acornes, and among the pricking briers and thorns the sweet Roses doe grow, the sharpe Beech giueth vs the sauory chestnuts. I meane, that deformed and little creatures oft times are most profita­ble in the commonwealth. For the litle and sharpe countenances, are signes of valiant and stout hearts.

Let vs cease to speak of men which are fleshly, being eftsoons rotten and gone, and let vs talke of sumptuous buildings which are of stone, which if we should goe to see what they were, we may know the greatnesse and the height of them. Then wee shall not know the manner of their beauty: and that which seemed to be perpetuall, in short space we see it end, and lose the renowme, in such sort that there is neuer memory of them hereafter.

Let vs all leaue the ancient buil­dings & come to the buildings now a dayes, and none shall see that there is no man that maketh a house, bee it neuer so strong nor faire, but (liuing a little while) he shall see the beautie thereof decay. For there are a great number of ancient men, which haue seene both the tops of famous and strong buildings made, and the foun­dation and ground thereof decayed. And that this is true it appeareth ma­nifestly, for that if the toppe decay, or the wals fall, or else if the timber bee weake, or the ioynts open, or the win­dowes waxe rotten, or the gates doe breake, the buildings forthwith de­cay.

What shall we say of goodly halls & galleries well appointed, the which within short space, by coles or can­dles of children, or by torches of pages, or smoke of chimneys, by cob­webs of spiders, become as drie and foule, as before they were fresh and faire.

Then if that bee true which I haue sayd of these things, I would now gladly know, what hope man can haue of the countenance of his beautie, since wee see the like destruction of corporall beauty, as of stones, wood, bricke and clay.

O vnprofitable Princes, O children too foolish hardy, do you not remem­ber that all your health is subiect to sicknes, as in the pain of the stomack, in the heate of the liuer, the inflam­mation of the feete, in the distempe­rance of humors, in the motions of the aire, in the coniunctions of the Moon in the Eclipse of the Sunne: I say doe you not know that you are subiect to the tedious Summer, and vntollera­ble Winter? Of a truth I cannot tell how you can be (among so many im­perfections and corruptions) so full of vaine glory, by your beauty, see­ing & knowing that a litle feuer doth not onely deface and man the beauty, but also maketh and coloureth the face all yealow, bee it neuer so well fa­uoured.

I haue maruelled at one thing, that is to say, that all men are desirous to haue al things about their body clean their gownes brushed, their coates neate, their table handsome, and the bed fine, and onely they suffer their soules to be foule, spotted and filthy. I durst say, and in the faith of a Chri­stian affirme, that it is a great lacke of wisedome, and a superfluity of folly, for a man to his haue house clean, & to What folly it is for man not to re­gard his own soule. suffer his soule to be corrupted. I wold know what preheminence they haue which are fair, aboue others to whom nature hath denyed beautie.

Peraduenture the beautifull man [Page 142] hath two soules, and the deformed creature but one? peraduenture the most fairest are the most healthfull, and the most deformed are the most sickliest: peraduènture the most fairest are the wisest, and the most deformed the most innocent: peraduenture the fairest are most stout, and the defor­med most cowards: peraduenture the faire are most fortunate, and the foole most vnluckiest: peraduenture the faire only are accepted from vice, and the foule depriued from vertue: per­aduenture those which are faire, of right haue perpetuall life, and those which are foule, are bound to reple­nish the graue: I say no certainely.

Then if this be true, why doe the great mocke the little, the faire the foule, the right the crooked, and the white the blacke, since they know that the vaine glory which they haue, and their beauty also, shall haue an end to day or tomorrow.

A man that is faire and well pro­portioned, is therefore nothing the more vertuous: and he that is defor­med and euil shapen, is nothing ther­fore the more vicious: so that vertue dependeth not at all of the shape of body, neither yet vice proceedeth of the deformity of the face. For dayly wee see the deformity of the body to be beautified with the vertues of the The vertue of the mind beautifieth the whole body. minde: and the vertues of the minde, to be defaced with the vice of the bo­dy in his works. For truely he that in the vsage of his life hath any botch or imperfection, is worse then he that hath foure botches in the shoulders.

Also I say, that though a man be great, yet it is not true that therefore he is strong: so that it is not a generall rule, that the big body hath alwayes a valiāt couragious heart nor the man which is of little person, should be of a vile and false heart. For we see by ex­perience, the greatest men, the most cowards: and the least of personage, the most stout and hardy of heart.

The holy Scipture speaketh of king Dauid, that he was red in his counte­nance, and not big of body, but of a meane stature, yet notwithstanding as he and the mighty Giant Goliah were in campe, Dauid killed Goliah with a sling, and with his owne sword cut of his head.

We ought not maruaile, that a litle sheapheard should slay so valiant and mighty a Giant. For ofttimes of a litle spark cōmeth a great light: & cōtrari­wise by a great torcha man can searce­ly see to do any thing: This king Da­uid did more, that hee being little of body, and tender of yeares, killed the Lyons, and recoured the lambes out of the wolues throtes: & besides this, in one day in a battle with his owne hands, he slue to the number of 800. men. Though wee cannot finde the like in our time, we may wel imagine, that of the 800. which he slew, there were at least 300. of them as noble of linage as he, as rich in goods, as faire in countenance, & as high of stature: but none of these had so much force and courage, since he escaped aliue, and they remained in the field dead. Though Iulius Caesar was big enough of body, yet notwithstanding he was The defor­mity of Iu­lius Caesar. euill proportioned: For he had his head all bald, his nose very sharpe, one hand more shorter then the other. And albeit he was yong, he had his face riuelled, his colour somewhat yellow, and aboue all he went some­what crooked, and his girdle was half vndone. For men of good wits do not imploy themselues to the setting out of their bodies. Iulius Caesar was so vn­handsome in his body, that after the battle of Pharsalique, a neighbour of Rome said vnto the great Orator Tul­lius.

Tell me Tullius, why hast thou fol­lowd the partialities of Pompeius since thou art so wise, knowest thou not [Page 145] that Iulius Caesar ought to be Lord & Monarch of al the world? Tullius an­swered. I tell thee true my friend, that I seeing Iulius Caesar in his youth so euill and vnseemely girded, iudged neuer to haue seene that, that is seene of him, and did neuer greatly regard him. But the old Sylla knew him bet­ter. For he seeing Iulius Caesar so vn­comly, and so slouenly apparrelled in his youth, oftentimes saide vnto the Senate: beware of this yong man so euill marked. For if you do not watch well his proceeding, it is he that shall hereafter destroy the Romaine people, as Suetonius Tranquillus affirmeth in the booke of Caesar.

Albeit that Iulius Caesar was vncom­lie in his behauior, yet in naming one­ly his name he was so feared through the world, as if by chance any king or Princes did talke of him at their table as after supper, for feare they could not sleepe that night vntill the next day. As in Gallia Gotica where Iulius Caesar gaue battell, by chance a French knight tooke a Caesarian knight priso­ner, who beeing led prisoner by the Frenchmen, said Chaos Caesar, which is to say: Let Caesar alone. Which the Gaulloys hearing the name of Caesar, let the prisoner escape, and without any other occasion hee fell besides his horse.

Now then let Princes and great Lords see, how little it auaileth the valiant man to bee faire or foule, sith that Iulius Caesar being deformed, on­ly with naming his name, caused all men to feare to change their counte­nance, Hanniball the aduenterous cap­taine of Carthage is called monstruous not onely for his deedes he did in the world: but also for the euill propor­tion of his bodie. For of his two eyes he lacked the right, and of his two feete he had the left foote crooked, and aboue all, he was little of body, and verie fierce and cruell of coun­tenance.

The deeds and conquests which Hanniball did among the people of Rome, Titus Liuius declareth at large: yet I will recite one thing which an The valiant deeds of Hanniball. Historiographer declareth, and it is this.

Frontine in the book of stoutenesse of the Penians declareth, that in se­uenteene yeeres that Hannibal warred with the Romaines, he slue so great a number that if the men had bin con­uerted into Kine, and that the blood which was shed had beene turned in­to Wine, it had beene sufficient to haue filled and satisfied his whole ar­mie being foure score thousand foot­men, and seuenteene thousand horse­men in his campe.

I demand now, how many were at that time fairer and more beautifull of their bodyes and countenance, then he was, whose beautie at this day is forgotten, whereas his valiantnesse shall endure for euer.

For there was neuer any Prince that left of him eternall memorie, on­ly for being beautiful of countenance: but for enterprising great things with the sword in the hand.

The great Alexander was no fairer nor better shapen then another man. For the Chronicles declare of him, The description of A­lexander. that he had a litle throte, a great head a blacke face, his eyes somewhat trou­bled, the body little, and the members not well proportioned, and with all his deformitie hee destroyed Darius, king of the Perses and Medes, and he subdued all the tyrants: he made him selfe Lord of all the Castles, and took many kings, and disherited and slue mightie Lords of great estate, hee searched all their riches, and pilled all their treasors, and aboue all things all the earth trembled before him, not hauing the audacitie to speake one word against him.

Of a letter the Emperour Marcus Au­relius wrote to his Nephew, worthie to be noted of all yong Gentlemen. CHAP. XLII.

SExtus Cheronensis, in his second booke of the life of Marcus Aurelius declared, that this good Marcus Aurelius had a sister called Annia Melena, the which had a sonne named Epesipus, who was not onely nephew, but also Disciple to Marcus Aurelius. And after he was created Emperour, he sent his nephew into Greece to stu­dy the Greeke tongue, and to banish him from the vices of Rome.

This yong Epesipus was of a good and cleare iudgement, well made of his body, and faire of countenance: and sith in his youth he esteemed his beauty more then his learning, the Emperour his vncle wrote him a let­ter The letter of Marcus Aurelius. in Greeke, which sayd thus.

Marcus Aurelius the Romaine Em­perour, first Tribune of the people, and Bishop, wisheth to thee Epesipus his Nephew and Scholler, health and doctrine.

In the third Calends of December came thy cousin Annius Verus, at whose comming all our parentage reioyced, and so much the more be­cause that hee brought vs newes out of Grecia,

For truely when the heart hath the absence of that he loueth, it is no mi­nute of an houre without suspition. After that thy cousen Annius Verus had spoken in generally to all, bring­ing newes from their friends and chil­dren, we talked together, and he gaue me a letter of thine, which is contrary to that which was written mee out of Greece, because thou writest to mee, that I should send thee mony to con­tinue thee in studie, and they did also write vnto me from thence, that thou art more youthfull, and giuen more to the pleasures of the world, then becommeth thee.

Thou art my blood, thou art my Nephew, thou wert my Scholler, and thou shalt bee my sonne if thou art good. But God wil neuer that thou be my Nephew, nor that I shall call thee my sonne, during the time that thou shalt be yong, fond, light and frayle For no good man should haue pa­rentage with the vitious.

I cannot deny but that I loue thee from the bottome of my stomacke, and so likewikewise thy vnthriftinesse greeueth me with all my heart. For when I read the letters of thy follies. I will content my selfe.

For the sage wise men, though (a­gainst their willes) they heare of such things past, yet it pleaseth them to re­dresse other things that may come heareafter.

I know well that thou canst not call it to minde, though perhaps thou hast it, that when thy vnlucky mother and my sister Annia Melena died, she was then yong enough, for she was no more but eighteene yeares of age, and thou haddest not then foure houres.

For thou wert borne in the mor­ning, and shee dyed iust at noone­tide: so when the wicked childe pos­sessed his life. then the good mother tasted death.

I can tell thee that thou hast lost such a mother, and that I haue lost such a sister, that I beleeue there was no better in Rome.

[Page 247] For she was sage, honest, and faire, the which things are seldome seene now a dayes. For so much as thy mo­ther was my sister, and that I had brought her vp and marryed her, I read then Rethorike at Rhodes, be­cause my pouertie was extreame, that I had no other thing but that which by reading Rethorike I did get.

When newes came vnto me of the death of thy mother, and my sister Annia Milena, al comfort laid on side sorrow oppressed my heart in such wise, that all members trembled, the bones shiuered, my eyes without rest did lament, the heauy sighes ouer­came me, at euery minute my heart vanished away, from the bottome of my heart I inwardly lamented, and be­wayled thy vertuous mother and my deare sister.

Finally sorrow executing his priui­ledge on mee, the ioyfull company greeued me, and onely with the loue­ly care I quieted my selfe, I know not nor cannot expresse vnto thee how, and in what sort I tooke the death of my sister Annia Milena thy mother: for in sleeping I dreamed of her, and dreaming I saw her, when I was awake shee represented her selfe before me, remembring that she liued, I was sor­ry to remember her death. Life was so grieuous vnto me, that I would haue reioyced to haue beene put in the graue with her. For truly hee fee­leth assuredly the death of another, which alway is sorrowfull, and lamen­ting his owne life.

Remembring therefore the great loue which 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 that was more acceptable for her, then to bring thee vp, thou which art her childe, and left an Orphane so yong.

For of all trauells to a woman, this is the chiefest: to leaue behinde her children to bring vp. My sister be­ing dead, the first thing I did was, that I came to Rome, and then sent thee to Capua to be brought vp there, in the which place, hard at my nose, they gaue thee sucke two yeares.

For thou knowest right well, that the mony which by reading Retho­rike I gate, scarcely satisfied for thy dayly feeding: but that in the night I reade some extraordinare lecture, and with that I payed for the milke, which thou suckedst on the dugge, so that thy bringing vp depended vpon the labour of my life.

After that thou wert weined and and brought from the teate, I sent thee to Bietro, to a friend and kins­man of mine named Lucius Valerius, with whom thou remainedst vntill fiue yeares were fully accomplished, where I found both him and thee all things necessary. For he was in great pouertie, and a great blabber of his tongue, in such sort that he troubled What of­fence comes by much talke. all men, and angred me much. For truely a man should as willingly giue mony to cause him to be silent, which is talkatiue: as to giue a wise man to heare him to speake.

The fiue yeares accomplished, I sent thee to Toringue, a citie of Cam­paignia, to a Maister which taught children there, called Emilius Tor­quates, of whom, to the end hee should teach thee to reade and to write three yeares: I tooke a sonne of his, whom hee gaue mee to reade to him Greeke foure yeares, so that thou couldest not haue any pro­fite in thee, without the increase of great trauell, and augmenting paine to my heart.

And after thou wert seuen yeares old, that thou couldest reade and write wel, I sent thee to study, in the fa­mous city of Tareth where I kept thee [Page 148] foure yeares paying to the masters a great summe of money: Because now a dayes through our euill fortunes, there is none that will teach without great stipend. Without lamenting I doe not tell thee, that in the time that Cincinos (which were after the death of Quintus Cincinatus, vntill Cyna and Catulus) the phylosopher and maisters were by the sacred Senate payde, and none ceased to study for lacke of money.

For in those dayes they which would apply themselues to vertue and sciences, were by the common trea­sure maintained. As our fathers were Learning well regar­in ancient times. well ordered in their things: so they did not deuide offices by order onely but also by order they payed their money in such sort that they paide first with the common treasure, the priests of the Temples, Secondly, the maisters of schooles and studies. Thirdly, the poore widowes and Or­phanes. Fourthly, the strange knights, which of their owne free wills volun­tarily were made citizens of Rome. Fiftly, all the old souldiesr, which had serued 35. yeares continually in the warres. For those which were retired home to their owne houses, were ho­nourably found of the common­wealth,

The twelue yeares past I my selfe was in Tarenthe, and carryed thee to Rome, where I read vnto thee Rheto­rike, Logike and phylosophy, and al­so the Mathematicall sciences, kee­ping thee in my house, in my compa­ny, at my table, and in my bed, and fur­ther more I had the in my heart, and in my minde. The which thing thou shouldest esteeme more, then if I gaue thee my house and al my goods. For the true benefites is that onely which is done without any respect of profite or interest,

I kept thee with meanes in this sort in Laurence, in Rhodes, in Naples, and in Capua, vntill such time as the gods created me Emperor of Rome. And then I determined to send thee to Greece, because thou shouldest learne the Greeke tongue, and also to the end thou shouldest accustome thy selfe to worke that which true phylosophy requireth. For the true and vertuous phylosophers ought to conforme their workes to that they say, and publish their words with their deeds.

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, and worketh little. For the man of a pleasant tongue, and euill life, is hee which with impostumes vndoeth the commonwealth. When I sent thee to An euill man a wicked member in a commonwealth. Greece, and withdrew thee from Rome, it was not to exile 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 lightnesse, I was afrayde to vndoe thee in the pallace, chiefely least thou wouldest haue presumed to haue bin too bold and familiar, because thou wert my nephew. For truely Princes which take pleasure that their chil­dren be familiar with them, they giue occasion that men shall not count them wise, and cause also the young men to bee esteemed for light, I haue tolde thee that I did for thee in Italie.

I will now let thee know what thou hast done, and doest in Greece, so that I will shew thee to bee no­torious, that is to know that thou taking and esteeming thy selfe to bee well disposed in thy youth, thou hast forsaken thy study, and despised my counsayles, thou art accompanyed with vaine and light men, and hast most vici­ously employed the money which [Page 149] I had sent thee to buy books. All the which things to thee being hurtfull, are to me no lesse dishonor & shame.

For it is a generall rule, when the childe is foolish and ill taught, and How chil­dren should be brought the blame and fault is layd on the ma­sters necke, who hath taught him, and brought him vp. It greeueth me not for that he brought thee vp, neither for that I haue taught thee to reade, and cause thee to study, neither like­wise to haue kept thee in my house, to haue set thee at my table, nor also to haue suffered thee to lie with me in my bed, neither it greeueth mee to haue consumed so much on thee: but with all my heart it greeueth me, that thou hast not giuen me occasion to do thee good. For there is nothing that greeueth a noble Prince more, then not to find persons able of capa­city, to do them any good. They tell me that thou art well made of thy bo­dy, and faire in countenance, and that thou presumest also in those things: wherefore to enioy the pleasures of thy person, thou hast forsaken Phylo­sophy, wherewith I am not conten­tented. For in the end the corporall beautie, carely or sate, perisheth in the graue: but vertue & science, makes men to be of immortall memory. The gods neuer commanded it, neither the studies and vniuersities of Italy suffered it, to haue the body fine and trimme, the visage faire and cleare, and the heart full of Phylosophy: for the true Phylosopher, of all other things esteemeth least the setting forth of the body. For that the de­monstrations and tokens of a true & perfect phylosopher is to haue his eres troubled, his eye bries burnt, and the head bald, the ball of his eyes sunke into his head, the face yellow, the bo­dy leane and feeble, the flesh dry, the so [...]te vnhosed, the garment poore, the eating little, and the watching great. Finally he ought to liue as a La­cedemonian, and speake as a Grecian. The tokens of a valiant & renowmed captain, are his wounds and hurts, and the signe of a studious phylosopher, is the despising of the world. For the wise man ought to thinke himselfe as much dishonored, if they call him stout, and sturdie: as a captaine when they call him a coward and negligent. I like well that the phylosopher study the ancient antiquities of his forefa­thers, that wrote the profound things for the time to come, that hee teach profitable & wholesome doctrines to those which are now aliue, that he di­ligently enquire of the motion of the starres, that he consider what causeth the alteration of the elements. But I sweare vnto thee Epesipus, that neuer sage of Rome came to those things, nor phylosopher of Greece likewise, but in searching the quietnesse of the soule, & despising the pleasures of the body: Touching the body I am like to beasts, but concerning the spirit I am partly like to the gods, sith that fol­lowing the things of the flesh I am made lesse then my self, and in follow­ing the motions of the spirit, I am made more then I am. For truly sen­sualitie maketh vs inferiour to beasts, and reason maketh vs superiour vnto men. The worldly malice & presump­tion naturally desireth, rather to mount then to descend: and to com­mand, rather then to be commanded. And since it is so, why do we by vices abase our selues to do lesse then beasts being possible for vs by vertues to do more then men. Amongst all the members, which men can haue, there is nothing more tender to breake, nor any thing more easy to corrupt, then is the handsomnes of the body, where we are so proud. For in mine opinion, to esteeme himselfe to be a handsome and proper person, is no other thing, but to esteeme our selues that drea­ming we shal be rich and mighty, and [Page 134] afterwards awaking we find our selues to be poore and miserable. And me thinkes th [...]s thing to be true, because I will declare, what it is to see a yong The de­scription of a yong man. man in his first age. the head litle, the haire yeallow, the brow long, the eyes green, the cheeks whit, the nose sharp the lips coloured, the beard forked, the face liuely, the necke small, the body of good proportion, the arme little, the fingers long, and to con­clude, so well proportioned in his members, that mens eyes should al­wayes desire to behold him, and the hearts alwayes seeke to loue him.

If this yong man so faire and well proportioned, remained long time in his beautie and disposition, it were good to desire it, to procure it, to keepe it, to pay s [...] it, and to loue it well: for in the end if we loue the beau­tie in beasts and buildings, by greater reason wee should desire it in our selues. But what shall wee say, that when we do not watch, this litle floure which yesterday florished on the tree, faire and whole, without suspition to be lost, one little hoary frost sodainly wasteth and consumeth it, the vehe­ment wind ouerthrows it, the knife of enuy cutteth it, the water of aduersi­tie vndoeth it, and the heate of perse­cutions pineth it: and finally the worme of short life gnaweth it, and the putrifaction of death decayeth and bringeth it down to the ground. O mans life that art alwayes cursed, I count fortune cruell, and thee vn­happy, since she will that thou tarriest on her, which dreaming giueth thee pleasures, and waking worketh the displeasures: which giueth into thy hands trauell to tast, and suffereth thee not onely to listen after quier: which will thou proue aduersitie, and agree that thou haue prosperitie but at her will: finally she giueth ther life by ounces, and death without mea­sure.

The wicked and vitious say, that it is a great pleasure to liue in ease: but I protest vnto them, that there was neuer any mortall man had so much pleasure in vices, but that he re­mained in great paine after that they were banished from him.

For the heart, which of long time The of the wicked. hath bene rooted in vice, inconti­nently is subiect to some great altera­tion, I would all would open their eyes to see how wee liue deceiued: for all the pleasures which delight the body, make vs beleeue that they come to abide with vs continually, but they vanish away with sorrows immediatly. And on the contrary part the infirmities and sorrowes that blind the soule say, that they come onely to lodge as guests, and ramaine with vs continually as housholders.

I maruell of thee Epesipus, why thou doest not consider what shall becom of the beauty of thy body here­after, sith thou leest presently the beau­ty of those departed interred in the graue? By the diuersitie of fruits man doth know the diuersitie of trees in the Orchyard, that is to say, the Oake by the Acornes, the Date tree by the Dates, and the Vines by the Grapes: but when the roote is dry, the body cut, the fruit gathered, the leafe fallen and when the tree is layd on fire and become ashes, I would now know if this ashes could bee knowne of what tree it was, or how a man might know the difference of the one frō the other? By this cōparison I meane to say that for so much as the life of this death & the death of this life commeth to seeke vs out, wee are all as trees in the Orchard, whereby some are knowne by the rootes of their predecessors, others by the leaues of their wordes, others by the branches of their friendes, some in the flowers of their beauty, and other some by the barke of their foule skinne. The one [Page 151] in their mercifulnesse, the other in their stoutenesse, other in their hardinesse beeing aged, others in their hastinesse of their youth, o­thers in their barrennesse by theyr pouerty, others by their fruitfulnesse in riches. Finally, in one onely thing wee are all alike, that is to say, that all vniuersally goe to the graue, not one remayning.

I aske now when death hath done his office, executing all earthly men The office of death. in the later dayes: what difference is there then betweene the fayre and the foule, which lye both in the narrow graue? certainely, there is none, and if there bee any difference, it shall bee in the making of their graues, which vaine men inuented. And I doe not repent mee for calling them vayne, since there is no vanity nor fondnes comparable to this, for they are, not contented to bee vaine in their liues but will also after their drathes enter­prise their vanities in sumptuous and stately sepulchres.

The coale of the Cedar (in mine opinion) that is high and fayre, is no­thing more whether when it is burnt, then the coale of the oake which is little and crooked: I meane often­times the Gods doe permit, that the bones of a poore Philosopher are more honoured then the bones of Princes.

With death I wil threaten thee no longer, for sith thou art giuen to the vices of this life, thou wouldest not as yet that with a word it should de­stroy thee: but I will tell thee on [...] word more, though it grieue thee to heare it: which is that God created thee to die, women bare thee to dye, and thou camest into the world for to die: and to conclude I say, some are borne to day, on condition they dye, tomorrow [...]d giue their places to o­thers.

When the great and fearefull Trees beginne to budde by the rootes, it sig­nifieth that time draweth on for them to cut the drie & withered branches. meane that to see hildren borne in Ihe House is no other, but to cite the Grand-fathers and Fathers to the graue.

If a man would aske me what death is? I would say a miserable lake where­in all worldly men are taken: for those that most safely thinke to passe it o­uer, remaine therein most subtilly de­ceyned. I haue alwayes read of the What death is. Ancients past, and haue seene of the young men present, and I suppose, that the selfe same will bee to come hereafter: that when life most swee­test seemeth to any man, then sud­denly, death entereth in at their dores.

O immortall Gods, I cannot tell if I may call you cruell, I know not if I may call you mercifull, because you gaue vs flesh, bones, honour, goods, friends, and also you giue vs plea­sure; finally yee giue to men all that they want, saue onely, the cuppe of life, which to your selues you did re­serue. Since I may not that I would, I will that I may: but if it were refer­red The mise­rable estate of man. to my will, I would rather one onely day of life, then all the riches of Rome: for what auayleth it to toyle and take paines to encrease honour and worldly good, since life dayly diminisheth.

Returning therefore to my first purpose, thou must know that thou esteemest thy selfe, and glorifiest in thy personage and beauty: I would gladly know of thee, and of others, which are young and faire, if you doe not remēber that once yee must come to bee olde and rotten: for if you thinke you shall liue but a little, then reason would you should not esteem your hea [...]ties much: for by reason it as a straunge thing that lise should a­bate vs, and folly traine vs.

[Page 152] If you thinke to become aged, yee ought to remember, and alwayes to thinke, that the steele of the knife, which doth much seruice, at length decayeth, and is lost for lacke of loo­king to.

Truely the young man is but a new knife, the which in processe of time cankereth in the edge: For on one day hee breaketh the poynt of vnder­standing, another, he looseth the edge of cutting, and to morrow the rust of diseases taketh him, and afterwards by aduersitie he is writhen, and by infir­mities hee is diseased, by riches hee is whetted, by pouertie hee is dulled a­gaine: and finally, oftentimes it chan­ceth that the more sharpe he is whet­ted, so much the more the life is put in hazard.

It is a true thing, that the feete and hands are necessarie to climbe to the vanities of youth: and that afterwards stumbling a little, immediately row­ling the head downewards, wee dis­cend into the misery of age: For (to our seeming) yesterday wee knew one that was young and beautifull, and within short time after, wee heare that he is dead and rotten.

When I consider many men as well friends as enemies, which were (not long agoe) flourishing in beauty and youth' and presently I see them to bee old and drie, sicke and foule, true­ly I thinke that as then I dreamed of them, or that they be not now as they were then.

What thing is more fearefull, or more credible, then to see a man be­come miserable in short space, that the fashion of his visage should change, the beauty of the face should bee lost, the beard waxe white, the head bould, the cheekes and forehead full of wrinckles, the teeth (as white as Iuorie) become blacke, the light feete by the goute to seeme crepeled, and and afterward waxeth heauy, the pal­sey weakenneth the strong arme, the fine smoth throat with wrinckles is playted, & the body that was straight and vpright, waxeth weake and croo­ked.

Aboue all that I haue spoken, I say to thee Epesipus, which presumest to bee fayre, that hee which through his propernesse in youth was the mir­rour of all, becommeth to bee such a one, that he doubteth whether he be the selfe same now in his age (that he was in his youth, Doe what thou wilt, praise and glorifie thy beautie as much as thou thinkest good, yet in the end the beauty of men is none other: but as a vayle to couer their eyes, a payre of fetters for the feete, manacles for the hands, a lime rodde for the winges, a theefe of time, an occasion of daunger, a prouoker of trouble, a place of lecherie, a sinke of all euill, and finally, it is an inuentor of de­bates, and a scourge of the affectioned man.

Since thou hast forsaken thy study, I am not bound to send thee any thing, chiefly wasting thy money in childish and youthfull to yes: but not withanding all those things, I sende thee by Aulus Vegenus two thousand crownes for thy apparrell, and truelle thou shalt be very vnthankfull, if thou doest not know the benefite done vn­to thee: for a man ought to giue more thanks for that which is done of curtesie, then for that which is of­fered of necessitie,

I cannot tell what to let thee vn­derstand in these partes, but that thy sister Anania Salaria is married, who sayth shee is content. I pray God it bee so, for with money men may bee holpen to marriages, but it lyeth in the gods to content the parties. If thou wilt know of Torings thy cofin, thou shalt vnderstand shee is embar­ked in the fleet which went to Spaine, & indeed I neuer thought otherwise [Page 153] wise on her, after shee had been three dayes hidde in the way of Salaria: For maydes that will betimes gather their grapes, it is a token that they will go on warfare with Souldiers.

Of Annius Rufus thy friend and companion, I certifie thee that hee is gone into the Isle of Helespont, and hee goeth by the authority of the Se­nate, to vnderstand the gouernement thereof: and albeit he bee young, yet he is wise, and therefore I suppose he will render a good account of his commission: for of these two extre­mities the aged that doe decline, or the young that are wise: I had rather holde my selfe to the wisedome of the young, then to the white beardes of the aged.

My wife Faustine saluteth thee, and be thou assured that in thy affayres (at the least in my seeming) shee is very fauourable vnto thee, and dayly shee instantly requireth mee not to bee an­gry with thee saying, that Sage men ought not to esteeme the lightnes of youth, and that there is no olde man that is sage, but he which in all things was light and youthfull. I say no more to thee in this case, but if thou wilt be good, I cannot deny that thou art not my Nephew my old Scholler and ser­uant: for if in thee I see amendment, I will withdraw mine ire, For truly a­mong the louing hearts there is no­thing that plucketh vp the euill will vnlesse it be the good life. At the re­quest of my wife Faustine I haue writ­ten thee this word, and I say no more but of her part and mine thou com­mend vs to all the Vniuersity. The Gods haue thee in their custodie, to whom it may please to giue thee a­mendment of life. Marcus Aurelius the Romane Emperour, to thee Annius Epesius writeth with his owne hand.

CHAP. XLIII. How Princes and great Lords in olde time were louers of wise men.

ONe of the chiefest things that wan re­putation and eter­nall memory to the The coun­sell of wise men euer respected among the Ancients. ancient Princes and Gouernours, was that they sought wise men to bee alwayes conuersant about them, whose graue counsell their Realmes alwayes obserued and obey­ed. It profiteth a King little to leade with him a great number of Sages to gouerne him and his Realme: if his Subiectes are armed: with ma­lice not to obey him. Let Princes know, which esteeme not the coun­sell of Sages, that their commaunde­ment of other shall not bee regar­ded: for the Law which by will is made, and not of right ordayned, de­serueth not to be obeyed.

Wee which turne and tosse the leaues of the auncient Histories can­not deny, but that the Romaines na­turally were proud. Yet wee must confesse, that as they haue beene stout in things touching warres; so they haue shewed themselues tempe­rate, in the affayres of the publike weale. And truly herein Rome de­clared her wisdome, and might, for as by hardy and stout Captaines the enemies were destroyed in warre: so by Sage and Wise men the common wealth was gouerned and maintained in peace.

Oft times with my selfe I muse, whereupon all these discords grew betweene Lords and subiects Princes and vassels, and my count beeing [Page 154] made, I finde that they haue both reason: for the subiects complaine of the little loue of their Lord: and the Lords complaine of the great dis­obedience of their subiects: for to say the truth, disobedience is so much augmented, & the desire of comman­dement is become so licentious, that it seemeth to the Subiects, that the weight of a feather is leade: and on the contrary, it seemeth to Princes, that for the flying of a flie, they shuld draw their swords.

All this euill and damage com­meth not, but because that Princes haue not with them wise men which may counsell them: for there was ne­uer any good Prince that credited e­uill counsell.

There are two things in Princes and Prelates which gouern the soule: the one is the dignity of the office, and the other is the nature of the per­son. What is re­quired of euery Ma­gistrate. It may well be that one may bee good in his person, and euill in his gouernment: and the contrary, hee may bee euill of his person, and good in gouernment. And therefore Tullius Cicero saith, that there neuer was, nor shall be, such a Iulius Caesar in his per­son, nor so euill a Gouernour as hee was for the Common-wealth. It is a great grace in a man to be good; but it is much more that hee bee a good Prince. And for the contrary, it is a great euill for a man to be euill; but it is much worse for him to be an euill Prince. For the euill man is onely euill to himselfe, but the euill Prince en­damageth all others: for the more the poyson is scattered through the bodie, in so much more danger he is of his life. I meane, the more pow­er a man hath ouer the Common-wealth: so much the more euill and dammage hee doth if his life bee euill, I maruel why Princes & great Lords should bee so curious to search the best medicines to cure their bodies: and that they are so slacke and slow in seeking sage persons to gouerne their Common wealth. For without com­parison, it is greater damage that the Common wealth bee euill gouerned, then if the Prince and Gouernour thereof should be sicke in his person. Hetherto wee haue neither read nor seene that any Prince hath perished for lacke of physicke, but for lacke of Counsellours: Wee haue seene and reade of infinite Kings and Realmes that haue beene destroyed, and vt­terly vndone.

The lacke of a Physitian may cause danger in mans person: but the lacke What hurt commeth by euill Counsellors of a wise man may set discord among the people: for where there is any tumult amongst the people, a ripe counsell of a [...] Wise man profiteth more, then a hundred purgations of rubarbe.

Isidorus in the fourth book of his Etimologies affirmeth, that the Romans were foure hundred yeares without Physitions: For Esculapius the sonne of Apollo was the last Physition in Greece. And in the Temple of the same Esculapius, they set by the Image of Archabuto, a man very notable in Surgery: For the Romanes were so beneficiall to vertuous persons, that to euery one that exceeded other in any kind of vertue, they rewarded him with money, they set vp a Statue of him for memory, or else they made him free in the common wealth. And then when the Surgian Archabuto was become auncient and very rich, and when by occasion of great and daun­gerous wounds hee did cut off the armes and legges of certaine Romans, thought him a cruell and an vnnatu­rall man: Wherefore they droue him out of his house, and killed him with stones in the field of Mars.

And let no man man maruell ther­at, for oftentimes mē suffer lesse harm in enduring the paine, then to tarry [Page 155] for the cruell remedies the Surgians apply vnto it.

Some will say, that when Rome was without Surgeans, the Romanes were discomfited and halfe lost. To this I will answere, that they neuer had a more prosperous time, then in the foure hundred yeares when they were without Surgeans: for then was Rome vndone, when they receyued Surgeans, for at that time they droue Philosophers out of Rome. I doe not speake this as a preiudice to any Sur­gean: for mee thinketh that Princes cannot be without som among them: For as the flesh is seeble and delicate, so dayly needeth it remedies to com­fort it. The sage Surgeons giueth vs none but good and healthfull coun­sels: for they doe not perswade vs to any other thing, but that wee bee so­ber and continent in eating, drinking, sleeping, trauelling, and working, and that in all things we should be tem­perate.

The end why I speake these things is, to perswade princes, prelates, and great Lords, that the great diligence they haue to seeke Surgeans, and the summe of mony they waste to main­taine and content them, they should spend part of that to seeke wise men to counsell their persons: for if men knew what it were to keepe a wise What be­nefite pro­ceedeth frō good Councellors man, to commaund in their house, they would giue for one onely wise man all their goods: yee ought for to haue pitty and compassion vpon those princes and great Lords, which lose so many dayes in the moneth, and so many houres in the day, in speaking of warres, buildings, weapons, meats, beasts, of huntings and medicines, & oftentimes of other mens doings, and of other vain things, not necessary for mans life. And this communication they vse with those that are neither vertuous nor wise: the which can ney­ther wisely talke, nor yet answere di­rectly vnto that which is asked. Often­times it chanceth that a prince at ran­don moueth a matter, which they neuer saw written before, nor with their eares they neuer heard the like, neyther in all their life time they had knowledge thereof, and yet they wil seeme to giue iudgement of it (or bet­ter to say) obstinately to contend, as if all the dayes of their life they had stu­died it: which thing proceedeth of great shame, and euill bringing vp: For the priuie Councell may speake before their princes, but be they neuer so priuie, with licence or without li­cence it is not lawfull for them to contend. Helius Spartianus in the life of Alexander Seuerus sayeth, that the Emperour Seuerus was demaunded onceby an Ambassadour of Greece, What thing was most painefull to him in Rome? whereunto the Emperour an­swered, There is nothing grieueth mee more, then when I am merry, that my ser­uants should raise any strife or debate: I am not displeased that matters should be debated, but this grieueth mee, when one will obstinatly striue, that hath no ground of that hee speaketh, hee cannot otherwise but be called obstinate.

Theodosius the Emperour was once demanded What a Prince ought to doe to be good? wherunto he answered, The vertuous Prince when he goeth abroade, ought to haue graue and wise men in his company to discourse withall, when he is at his meat, to haue wise men at his board disputing, and when he withdraweth him selfe a part to be reading with wise men: and finally at all vacant times he ought to bee found with sage men counselling: for the Knight which entreth into battell without weapōs, is as hardy as the prince which will gouerne the common wealth without the counsell of wise men.

Lampridius in the booke of the Roman gests sayth, that the Emperor Marcus Aurelius neyther at his meat, at his going to bedde, at his vprising, [Page 154] in his trauell openly, nor secretly, suffered at any time that fooles should sing or communicate with him, but onely wise and vertuous men, whom alwayes he most entirely loued.

Of truth hee had reason, for there is nothing, be it in iest or in earnest, but it is better liked of a wise man thē of a foole, If a Prince bee sad, cannot a wise man peraduentur by the saying of the holy Scripture counsell him better, then a foole by foolish words? If a Prince be prosperous, shall it not bee better (to keepe him in the same property) to associate himselfe with a wise man, rather then to put his trust in a foole and malitious person? If a Prince be destitute of money, can­not perchance a wise man finde him better meanes to get it, then a foole which doth nothing but aske? If a Prince will passe the time away, shall not hee bee more comforted with a wise man that reckoneth vnto him the sauoury histories done in times past, then hearkning a foole speake foolishly, and declaring things disho­nestly, with the sayings of the maliti­ous of the time present? That that I speake of Surgians, the selfe same I speake of fooles: For I doe not say that they keepe them for their pa­stime, though truely wee might bet­ter say to lose their time, then to passe their time: for that may iustly bee called time lost, which is spent with­out Time best spent in the seruice of God. the seruice of God, and profit of their neighbours.

That which I most maruell at is, not so much for the great authoritie that fooles haue in the Pallaces of Princes and great Lords, as for the little succour and credite which wise men haue among them: For it is a great iniurie that fooles should enter into the pallace of princes, euen vnto their beds side, and that one wise man may not, nor dare not enter into the hall: So that to the one there is no dore shut, and to the other, there is no gate open.

Wee which are at this present, of right doe commend those that were before vs, for no other cause, but that in times past, though the Sages were few in number, and the world was re­plenished with barbarous people: yet the Sages of those barbarous people were greatly esteemed, and had in reuerence.

And this custome endured long time in Greece, that when a Philoso­pher passed by a Greeke, hee rose and spake vnto him: and hee might not sit: for the contrary, all those which shall liue hereafter will reprooue vs, which are at this present. Forasmuch as wee haue so great a multitude of Sages, and do not liue amongst bar­barous, but amongst Christians: and it is a griefe to see, and shame to write how little wise men are esteemed: for at this day (through our offences) not those which haue most science: but those which haue most riches, in the common wealth do commaund: I know not whether the diuine wise­dome hath depriued them, or that the worldly malice hath lost the taste of them. For now a dayes there is no sage that liueth al alone to be wise, but it is necessary for him to trauell how to gaine his liuing: for necessity en­forceth him to violate the rules of true Philosophy.

O world, world, I know not how to escape thy hands, nor how the sim­ple man and ideot defendeth himselfe How little wisedome now a dayes is regarded. out of thy snares, when the Sage and wise men (yea with al their wisedom) can scarsely set their foot sure on the ground. For all that Wise men of this World know, is little enough to defend them from the malitious.

Reading that which I read of time past, and seeing that which I see of time present: I am in doubt which was greater, the care that vertuous [Page 157] Princes had in seeking out Sages to counsell them, or the great couetous­nesse that others haue at this present, to discouer mines and treasures.

Speaking therefore in this matter, as I thinke: I desire that those which haue the charge of gouernment [...] (whether hee bee Prince, Prelate, or priuate person I passe not) that they once may haue about them sage men, that bee wise in deede, and that they would loue them aboue all the treasure they had heaped. For in the end, of good counsell there commeth profite: and much treasure, is a token of great danger.

In the olde time when vertuous Princes dyed, and that they left their children for Successors in their Realmes, and besides that, forasmuch as they saw their children young, and euill instructed in the affayres of their Realmes, they committed them to Tutours, that should teach them good works and doctrine, rather then they would giue them Suruayors, which should encrease and augment their Cofers and Rents: For truely if the Common-wealth bee defended with great treasures, it is not gouer­ned with good counsels.

The princes which are young, ac­customely are giuen to vices: for in the one part youth raigneth, and on the other part honesty wanteth.

And to such, truely vices are very dangerous, specially if they want Sages to counsel them, to keepe them Youth sub­iect to ma­ny vices. from euill company. For the coura­gious youth will not bee brideled, nor their greate liberty can bee cha­stised.

Princes without doubt haue more neede of wise and stayed men about them, to profite them in theyr counselles, then any of all their o­ther Subiects: for since they are in the view of all, they haue lesse li­cence to commit vice then any of all: For if you behold all, and that they haue authority to iudge all, will they, nill they, they are beholden and iudged of all.

Princes ought to be circumspect whom they trust with the gouerne­ment of their Realmes, and to whom they commit the leading of their Ar­mies, whom they send as Ambassa­dours into strange Countries, and whom they trust to receyue and keepe their treasures: but much more they ought to bee circumspect in exami­ning of those whom they choose to bee their Counsellours: For looke what is he that counselleth the prince How cir­cumspect Princes ought to be at home in his pallace: so likewise shall his renowne be in strange coun­tries, and in his owne Common-wealth.

Why should they not then wil­lingly examine and correct theyr owne proper palace? Let Princes know, if they do not know, that of the honesty of their seruants, of the prouidence of their Counsels, of the sagenesse of their persons, and of the order of their house, dependeth the welfare of the Common-wealth: for it is impossible that the branches of that tree, whose rootes are dryed vp, should bee seene to beare greene leaues.

CHAP. XLIIII. How the Emperour Theodosius proui­ded [...]ise men at the houre of his death, for the edification of his two sonnes, Archadius and Honorius.

I Gnatius the Histori­an in the booke that he made of the two Theodosij, of the 2. Archadij, and of the 4. Honorii, declareth [...] Theodosius. that the first & great Theodosius being [...]0. yeares olde, and hauing gouerned the empire 11. years lying on his death bed, called Archa­dius and Honorius his two sons, and committed them to Estilconius, and Ruff [...]nus to be instructed, and orday­ned them likewise for gouernours of their estates and signiories. Before that the father dyed, hee had now cre­ated his children Caesars, being then of the age of 17. yeares. Therefore the Father seeing them not as yet ripe, nor able to gouerne their Realms and Signiories: he committed them vn­to masters and tutors. It is not al­wayes a generall rule, though one be of 25. yeares of age, that he hath more discretion to gouerne realms then an­other of fifteene: for dayly wee see, that wee allow and commend the ten yeeres of one, and reproue the forty yeares of an other.

There are many Princes tender of yeares, but ripe in counsels: and for the contrary there are other Princes olde in yeares, and young in counsels. When the good Emperour Vespati­an dyed, they determined to put his sonne Titus in the gouernement of the Empire, or some other aged Se­natour, because they sayde Titus was too young,

And as they were in controuersie of the matter, the Senator Rogerus Pa­troclus said vnto the Senate: For my part I require rather a Prince which is young and sage: then I do a Prince which is olde and foolish.

Therefore now as touching the children of Theodosius, one day Estil­torius the tutor of Archadius speaking to a Greeke Philosopher, very sage, whose name was Epimundus, sayd thus vnto him.

Thou and I long time haue beene acquainted together in the Palace of the Emperour Theodose my Lord, who is dead, and we are aliue: thou know­est it had been better that we two had dyed, and that he had liued: for there bee many to bee seruants of Princes, but there are few to be good Princes I feele no greater griefe in this world, then to know many Princes in one Realme. For the man which hath seene many Princes in his life, hath seene many nouelties and alterations in the common wealth. Thou know­est well that when Theodosius my master dyed, hee spake to mee these words, the which were not spoken without great sighes and multiplying of teares. O Estilconus, I dye, and am going into an other world, wher­in I shall giue a streight account of the Realmes and Seignories which I had vnder my charge: and there­fore The duety of euery good Chri­stian. when I thinke of mine offences I am maruellously afrayde: But when I remember the mercy of God, then I receyue some comfort and hope.

As it is but meet wee should trust in the greatnesse of his mercy: so like­wise is it reason wee should feare the rigour of his iustice. For truely, in the christian law they are not suffered to liue (as we which are Princes that liue in delights of this world, & with­out repentance to goe to Paradise: Then when I thinke of the great [Page 139] benefites which I haue receyued of God, and of the great offences which I haue committed, and when I thinke of the long time I haue liued, and of the little which I haue profited, and also that vnprofitably I haue spent my time: On the one part I am loath to dye, for that I am afrayde to come before the tribunall seate of Iesus Christ: and on the other part I would liue no longer, because I doe not profite.

The man of an euill life, why doth hee desire to liue any longer? My life is now finished, and the time is short to make amends. And sith God de­maundeth nought else but a contrite heart, with all my heart I doe re­pent, and appeale to his iustice, of mercy, from his iustice to his mercy, because it may please him to receyue mee into his house, and to giue mee perpetuall glory, to the confusion of all my finnes and offences. And I protest I dye in the holy catholike faith, and commend my soule to God and my body to the earth: and to you, Estilconus and Ruffinus my faithfull seruants, I recommend my deere be­loued children: for hereby the lone of the children is seene, in that the Father forgetteth them not at the houre of his death.

In this case of one onely thing I doe warne you, one onely thing [...] re­quire The loue of a master to his seruants you, one thing I desire you, and one onely thing I command you, and that is, that you occupie not your minds in augmenting the realms and seignories of my children: but onely that you haue due respect to giue thē good education and vertuous seruāts: for it was onely the wise men which I had about me, that thus long haue maintained mee in this great authori­ty. It is a goodly thing for a Prince to haue stout captains for the warres: but without comparison it is better to keepe and haue wise men in his pa­lace: for in the end, the victory of the battel confisteth in the force of many: but the gouernment of the common­welth oftentimes is put vnder the ad­uise of one alone.

These so dolefull and pittifull words my Lord and Master Theodosius spake vnto me. Now tell mee, Epimundus, what I shall doe at this present to ful­fill his commendement? For at his heart hee had nothing that troubled him so much as to thinke whether his children would vndoe, or encrease the Common wealth. Thou Epimun­dus, thou art a Grecian, thou art a Phi­losopher, thou hast vnderstanding, thou art an old seruant, thou art my faithfull friend: therefore for all these things thou art bound to giue mee good and healthfull counsell: For many times I haue heard Theodosius my master say, That he is not accoun­ted sage which hath turned the leaues of many bookes: but hee which knoweth, and can giue good and healthfull counsell: Epimundus the philosopher answered to these words; Thou knowest well, Lord Estilconus, that the ancients and great Philoso­phers ought to be briefe in words, and very perfect in their works: for other­wise to speake much, and worke little, seemeth rather to bee done like a ty­rant, then like a Greeke Philosopher. The Emperour Theodosius was thy Lord, and my friend. I say friend, because it is the liberty of a Greeke Philoso­pher, to acknowledge no homage nor seruice to a superiour: for hee in his heart can haue no true licence: that to rebuke the vitious keepeth his mouth shut. In one thing I content my selfe in Theodosius aboue all other Princes, which were in the Romane Empire, and that is, that he knew and talked wisely of al his affairs, and also was diligēt to execute the same: for all The fault of many Princes. the fault of princes is, that they are apt & bold to talk of vertues, & in ex­ecuting [Page 160] them, they are very slacke and fearfull. For such Princes cannot con­tinue in the vertue, which they doe commend: not yet resist the vice which they doe disprayse.

I graunt that Theodosius was an ex­ecutor of iustice, mercifull, stout, sober valiant, true, louing, 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 look for. Presupose it be true (as it is most true) that the time was alwayes pros­perous to the Emperour Theodosius: yet I doubt whether this prosperity will continue in the succession of his children For worldly prosperity is so mutable, that with one onely man in a moment, shee maketh a thousand shrewde turnes: and so much the The incon­stancy of the world. more it is hard to continue stedfast in the second houre.

Of slow and dull horses, come of­tentimes couragious and fierce colts: and euen so of vertuousfathers come children euill brought vp: For the wicked children inherite the worst of the Father, which is riches, and are dishenherited of the best, which are vertues. That which I perceyne in this matter, as wel of the father which is dead, as of the children which are aliue, 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 now go a­bout it: for the Prince which is yong is in great perill, when in his youth he beginneth not to follow the steps of vertue.

To speake particularly of Archadi­us & Honorious, I let thee know E­stilconus, that it is a thing superfluous to talk of it; for I should lose my time, because the things of princes are very delicate, and though wee haue licence to prayse their vertues, yet wee are bound to dissemble their faults.

As a sage father, Theodose, I desire thee to giue his children good doc­trine, and alwayes to accompany thē: But I as a friend do counsell thee that thou keepe them from euill: for in the end all is euill to accompany with the euill, and forsake the good: but the worst euill pursueth vs, rather by the presence of the euill, then by the ab­sence of the good. It may wel be that one being alone, & without the com­pany of the good, may yet notwithstā ­ding be good: but for one that is ac­companied with euil men, to be good of this I greatly doubt: for the same day that a man accompanieth him­selfe with the vicious, the selfe same day he is bound to be subiect to vice. O Estilconus, since thou so much desi­rest to accomplish the commādemēt of thy Lord and master Theodose, if thou canst not cause that Archadius & Honorius (which are yong princes) do accompany with the good: yet at the least withdraw them from the company of the euill: for in the courts of princes vitious men are none other but solicitors in this world to tempt o­thers to be vicious: how many and what solicitors haue we seen, thou and I in Rome, the which forgetting the af­faires of their Lords, did solicite for themselues vices and pleasures. I will not tell what seruants of princes haue The youn­ger sort must accompany with the vertu­ous. bin in times past, but what they were, and what they are, euery man may ea­sily see. I will tell thee onely, not of those which ought to be coūsellors to princes: but also of those which ought not to liue in their courts: For the counsellors and officers of princes ought to be so iust: that sheares can­not find what to cut away intheir liues nor that there needeth any needle or thred to amend their fame. If thou E­stilconus hast heard what I haue sayd, marke now what I wil say, and keepe it in memory, for it may profit thee one day.

[Page 161] In the Courts of Princes proude men ought to haue no familiarity nor entertainement. For it is vnseemely that those which are not gentle in Proud and ambitious men ought not to go­uerne. words should commaund: and those that haue not their hearts ready to obey, should bee familiar with the Prince.

In the Courts of Princes, there ought not to bee of Counsell, and much lesse familiar, enuious men: for if enuy raigne amongst Princes and Counsellours there shall alwayes bee dissentions in the common-wealth. In the Courts of Princes hasty men ought not to haue familiarity: for of­tentimes it chanceth that the impati­ence of Counsellours, causeth the people to be euill content with their Princes.

In the Courts of Princes there ought not to be familiar, nor of counsell, greedy nor couetous men, for the Princes giue great occasion to the people to bee hated, because their ser­uants haue alwayes their hands open to receyue bribes,

In the Courtes of Princes there ought not to be familiar fleshly men: for the vice of the flesh hath in it so little profite, that he that is wholy o­uercome therewith, is, or ought to be to the Prince alway suspected.

In the Pallace of a King, there ought not to bee drunkards or glut­tons: for whereas the familiars ought principally to serue their Princes with good counsel, in mine opinion a man being full & surcharged with excesse is more like to bleach and breake wind after his surfet, then able to giue any profitable counsell in the Common wealth.

In the Pallace of Princes, ought not to be resiant nor familiar blasphe­mers: for the man which is a servant and openly dare blaspheme his Cre­ator, will not spare in secret to speake euill of the Lord.

In the palace of Princes ought not to be of counsell nor familiar the neg­ligent and delicate persons: for there is nothing (next vnto the diuine pro­uidence) that helpeth Princes more to be puissant and mighty then when their seruants are faithfull and di­ligent.

In the pallace of Princes, defa­med men ought not to haue familia­rity: for the Prince cannot excuse himselfe to bee thought culpable, when they doe rebuke him, if in his house he maintaine seruants, which openly are defamed.

In the pallace of princes they ought not to suffer Ideots and fooles: for the realmes are not lost for that the Prin­ces are young, vncircumspect, and vitious: but for that their Counsel­lours are simple and malitious.

Woe, woe be to the land, where the Lord is vitious, the subiect sedi­tious, the seruant couetous, and the Counsellour simple and malitious: for then the common wealth perisheth when ignorance and malice raigneth in the prince and gouernour of the same,

Those words passed betweene the noble Knight Estilconus, and the wise Philosopher Epimundus, vpon the bringing vp of those two princes Archadius and Honorius, And because that princes and prelates might see, (which now haue the charge to go­uerne people) how much the Aun­cients did desire to haue sage men a­bout them notwithstanding that I haue spoken, I will shew you heere some notable and ancient examples.

CHAP. XLV. How Cresus King of Lydea was a great friend and louer of Sages. Of a letter the same Cresus wrote to the Philo­sopher Anacharsis. And of an other letter of the Philosophers answere to the King.

IN the yeare of the Creation of the World, 4355. and in the third age, Sar­danapulus being king of the Assyrians, Ozi­as King of the He­brewes, and Elchias being high Bishop of the holy temple, at that time when Rea the mother of Romulus liued, in the second yeare of the first Olimpi­ade, the great and renowmed Realme of Lydes had beginning: as Plinie in Plin lib. de nat. hist. the fift booke of the Naturall History sayth. Lidia is in Asia minor, and first was called Meonia, & afterwards was called Lidia, and now is called Morea. This Realme of Lydes had many wor­thy Cities, that is to say, Ephese, Colo­se, Aclasomena, and Phorea. The first King of Lydes was Ardisius, a man of great courage, and a Grecian borne, and raigned 36. yeares. The second, was Aliaces, who raigned 14, yeares. The third was Meleus, and he raigned 12. yeares. The fourth was Candale, and raigned 4. yeares. The fift was Ginginus, and raigned 5. yeares. The sixt was Cerdus, and raigned 6. yeares. The 7. was Sadiates, and raigned 15. yeares. The eight was Allates, and he raigned 49. yeares, and the ninth was Cresus, and raigned 15. yeares: and of this King Cresus, Zenophon declareth, that hee was more valiant in feates of warre, then comely of personage: for though he was lame of one foote, ble­mished of one eye, lacking one eare, and of body not much bigger then a dwarfe: yet for all this hee was a iust man, very constant, stoute, mercifull, The description of Cresus. couragious, and aboue all hee was a great enemie to the ignorant; and a speciall friend to the Sage.

Of this king Cresus, Seneca speaketh in his booke of Clemency: and sayeth, that the Sages were so entirely belo­ued of him, that the Greekes (which had the fountaine of eloquence) did not call him a louer, but entituled him the loue of Sages: for neuer no man did so much to attaine to the loue of his Lady, as hee did to draw to him, and to his Country sage men.

This king Cresus therefore beeing Lord of many barbarous nations (the which loued better to drinke the bloud of the innocent, then to learne the science of the wise) like an excel­lent prince determined for the com­fort of his person, and remedy of his Common wealth, to search out the greatest Sages that were in Greece. At that time flourished the famous and renowmed Philosopher Anacharsis, who thogh he was born and brought vp amongst the Seythians, yet hee was alwayes resident notwithstanding in Athens: For the Vniuersity of Athens did not despise those that were Bar­barians, but those that were vitious.

The King Cresus sent an Ambassa­dour in great authority with riches, to the Philosopher Anacharsis, to per­swade and desire him, and with those gifts and presents to present him, to the end it might please him to come and see his person, and to set an or­der in his Common wealth.

Cresus not contented to send him gifts which the Ambassadour carried, The godly minde of Cresus. but for to let him vnderstand why he did so: wrote him a letter with his owne hand, as hereafter followeth.

The letter of King Cresus, to Anachar­fis the Phylosopher.

CResus King of Lydes, wisheth A­nacharsis great Phylosopher, which remainest in Athens, health to thy person, and increase of The letter of king Cresus. vertue. Thou shalt know how well I loue thee, in that I neuer saw thee, nor knew thee, to write vnto thee a letter. For the things which with the eyes haue neuer bin seen: seldomtimes with the heart are truely beloued. Thou doest esteeme little (as truth is) these my small gifts, and presents which I send thee: yet I pray thee greatly e­steeme the will and heart wherewith. I do visite thee. For noble hearts re­ceiue more thankefully that which a man desireth to giue them: then that which they do giue them in deede. I desire to correct this my Realme, and to see amendement in the common­wealth.

I desire good order for my person, and to take order touching the go­uernement of my palace. I desire to communicate with Sages, some­things of my life, and none of these things can bee done without thy pre­sence: for there was neuer any good thing made but by the meane of wise­dome. The de­scription of Cresus. I am lame, I am crooked, I am bald, I am a counterfeit, I am blacke, and also I am broken, finally, amongst all other men I am a monster. But all these imperfections are nothing to those that remaine, that is to say, I am so vnfortunate, that I haue not a Phy­losopher with me. For in the world there is no greater shame, then not to haue a wise man about him to be con­uersant with all.

I count my self to be dead, though to the simple fooles I seeme to bee a liue. And the cause of death is, because I haue not with me some wise person. For truely he is onely aliue amongst the liuing: who is accompanyed with the Sages.

I desire thee greatly to come, and by the immortall gods I coniure thee that thou make no excuse: and if thou wilt not at my desire, doe it for that thou art bound. For many men oft­times condiscend to doe that which they would not: more for vertues sake then to satisfie the demand of any o­ther.

Thou shalt take that which my Em­bassador shall giue, and beleeue that which he shall tell in my behalfe, and by this my letter I doe promise thee, that when thou shalt ariue here, I will make thee treasorer of my coffers, on­ly counsailour of mine affaires, secre­tary of my counsell, father of my chil­dren, reformer of my Realme, master of my person, and Gouernour of my Commonwealth: finally, Anacharsis shall be Cresus, because Cresus may be The liberal mind of Cresus. Anacharsis. I say no more, but the gods haue thee in their custody, to whom I pray that they may hasten thy com­ming.

The Embassadour departed to goe to Athens, bearing with him this letter and many sewels and bagges of gold: and by chance Anacharsis was reading in the Vniuersitie at the arriuall of the Ambassadors of Athens. Who onely sayd and did his message to Anachar­sis, presenting vnto him the gifts and the letter. Of which thing all those of the Vniuersitie maruelled, for the bar­barous Princes were not accustomed to seek Phylosophers, to gouern their commonwealth: but to put them to death, and take from them their liues. After the great Phylosopher Anachar­sis had heard the Ambassage, seene the gifts, and receiued the lerter, with out altering his countenance, or elati­on of his person, impediment in his tong, or desire of the riches immedi­atly before the phisophers, sayd these words, which hereafter are written.

The letter of the Phylosopher Anachar­sis to the king Cresus.

ANacharsis the least of the Phylo­sophers, which to thee Cresus, most mightie and puissant king of Lides, the health which thou wishest The answer of the Philoso­pher Ana­charsis. him, and the increase of vertue which thou sendest him. They haue told vs many things here in these parts, as well of thy Realme, as of thy person, and there in those parts they say ma­ny things, as wel of our Vniuersitie, as of my selfe. For the heart taketh great pleasure, to know the conditions and liues of all those in the world.

It is well done to desire and pro­cure to know all the liues of the euill, to amend our owne. It is well done to procure and know the liues of the good for to follow them: but what shall we doe? since now a daies the e­uill doe not desire to know the liues of the euill, but for to couer them and keepe them secret, and doe not desire to know the liues of the good for to follow them.

I let thee know, king Cresus, that the Phylosophers of Greece felt not so much paine to be vertuous, as they felt in defending them from the viti­ous, For if a man once behold vertue, immediatly she suffereth to be taken: but the euill for any good that any man can doe vnto them, neuer suffers themselues to be vanquished. I be­leeue well that tyrannie of the Realm is not so great as they talke of here, neither oughtest thou likewise to be­leeue that I am so vertuous, as they report me to be here. For in mine opinion those which declare newes of strange countries, are as the poore which weare their garments al patch­ed and peeced, wherof the peeces that were sowne on a new, are in more quantitie of cloth: then the old which before they had, when they were first made,

Beware (king Cresus) and bee not as the barbarous Princes are, which vse good words, to couer the infamy of their cruel deeds.

Maruel not though we Phylosophers, readers in schooles, desire not to liue with princes and gouernors of realms: For euil Princes for none other intent seeke the company of wise men, but onely because they would through them excuse their faults. For doing as thou doest, of will, and not of right, you will that the vulgar people thinke you do it by the counsel of a wise man. I let thee vnderstand, king Cresus, that the prince which desireth to gouerne his people well, ought not to be con­tent to haue one onely Sage in his Pallace. For it is not meete that the gouernement of many do consist in the aduise of one alone.

The Ambassadour hath sayde by word, and the selfe same thy letter te­stifieth, that thou art certified that I am counted for Sage throughout all Greece, & that this presupposed, I wold come to thee to gouerne thy com­monwealth.

And for the contrary, thou doing thus as thou doest, condemnest mee to be an Idiot, for thou thinking that I would take thy gold, is nothing else, but for to raile vpon me as a foole.

The chiefe point wherein true phi­losophy is knowne, is when he despi­seth the things of the world: for there neuer agreeth together the libertie of the soule, and the care of the goods in this life,

O king Cresus, I let thee vnderstand that hee which knoweth most the Wherein consisteth true phylo­sophy. cause of the Element is not called Sage: but it is he which least know­eth the vices of this world. For the true phylosopher profiteth more by not knowing the euill, then by lear­ning the good.

I let thee vnderstand I am three­score [Page 165] and seuen yeares old, and yet neuer before this time there reigned ire in me, but when thy Ambassage was presented to me, and that I saw layde at my feete such treasures and riches. For vpon this deed I gather, that either wisedome lacketh in thee, or that great couetousnes aboundeth in me.

I doe send thee thy gold againe which thou sendest me, and rhy Am­bassadour shall declare (as witnesse of sight) how greatly it hath slandered all Greece. For it was neuer seene nor heard of, that in any wise they should suffer gold to enter into the Vniuersi­tie How little the phylo­sophers desire riches. of Athens. For it should not onely bee a dishonour to the Phylosophers of Greece to haue riches, but also it would turne them to great infamie to desire them.

O King Cresus, if thou knowest it not, it is but reason thou know it, that in the Schooles of Greece wee learne not to command, but to obey: not to speake, but to be silent: not to resist, but to humble our selues: not to get much, but to content vs with little: not to reuenge offences, but to par­don iniuries: not to take from others, but to giue our owne: not to be ho­nored, but to trauaile to be vertuous: finally, we learne to despise that which other men loue: and to loue that which other men despise, which is pouertie. Thou thoughtest that I would accept thy gold, or else that I would not. If thou thoughtest I would haue taken it, then thou had­dest had reason not to haue receiued me afterwards into thy Palace: for it is a great infamie, that the couetous man shuld be acceptable to a Prince. If thou thoughtst that I wold none of it, thou wert not wise to take the pains to send it: for Princes ought neuer to take vpon them things, wherein (as they thinke) that subiects should lose their honestie in receiuing them.

Seeking Cresus and behold that by diligence it litle auayleth to search for the physition, and afterwards to doe nothing of that which by him is ordained.

I meane that it shall not profit, but rather it shall be harme, that I come into thy commonwealth, and that af­terwards thou wilt not do that which I shall ordaine therein, for great dan­gers ensue to alter the humors with siropes: vnlesse they take afterwards a purgation to purge away the same. For to redresse thy barbarous realme, and to satisfie thy good desire, I am determined to condiscend vnto thy request, and to accomplish thy com­mandement, vpon condition, that thou shalt ensure mee of these things following.

For the laborer ought not to sow his seede before the ground be plow­ed and tilled.

The first, thou shalt for sake the euill Certaine points re­quired to be performed by the phy­sopher. custome which ye barbarous kings dovse, that is to say, to heape vp treasures, and not to spend them. For euery Prince which is couetous of treasures, is scarcely of capacitie to receiue good counsell:

The second, thou shalt not onely banish out of thy palace: but also out of thy court al flatterers, for the Prince that is a friend to flatterers of necessitie must be an ene­mie of the truth.

The 3. thou shalt end the wars that thou (at this present) doest maintaine against the people of Corinth, for euery Prince that loueth forraine warres, must needs hate the peace of his commonwealth.

The fourth, thou shalt banish from thy house all Iuglers, comediants and mini­strels. For the Prince which occupieth himselfe to heare vaine and trifling things, in time of necessitie shall not ap­ply himselfe to those which bee of weight and importance.

Fiftly, thou shalt prouide that all loy­terers and vacabonds bee expulsed from thy person, and banished thy palace: for i­idlenesse [Page 166] and negligence are cruell ene­mies of wisedome.

Sixtly, thou shalt banish from thy court and palace, and liers all seditious men: for when liers are suffered in the Palace of Princes, it is a signe that the king and the realme falleth into vtter destruction.

The seuenth, thou shalt promise that in the dayes of thy life thou shalt not presse me to receiue any thing of thee: for the day that thou shalt corrupt me with gifts it is necessary that I corrupt thee with e­uill counsels. For there is no counsell that is good, but that which proceedeth from the man that is not couetous.

If on these conditions the king Cresus desireth the Philosopher Ana­charsis, the Philosopher Anacharsis de­sireth the king Cresus: and if not, I had rather bee a disciple of sage philoso­phers, then a king of the barbarous people. Vale felix Rex. Sith this letter doeth declare it, it is needlesse for my pen to write it, that is to say, what was the humanitie and goodnesse of king Cresus, to write vnto a poore Phylo­sopher: and how great the courage of a philosopher was to despise the gold, and to say (as he did) in this behalfe. Therefore let princes note heare, that such ought the Sages to bee they should chuse, and let Sages note here also vpon what conditions they ought to enter into the palace of princes. For this is such a bargaine, that it sel­dome times chanceth, but that one of the parties are deceiued.

CHAP XLVI. Of the wisedome and sentences of Pha­laris the tyrant, and how he put an Artisan to death for inuenting new torments.

IN the last yeare of the Latines, and in the first yeare of the Romaines Ezechias being king of the Iewes, and Azaria great Bishop of the holy temple, Abacucke Prophet in Iewrie, and Merodach being king in Babylon, and when the Lacedemonians built By­zance (which now is Constantinople,) Phalaris the famous Tyrant was then liuing.

Of this Phalaris, Ouid saith, that he was deformed in his face, pore The description of Phalaris. blinde of his eyes, and exceeding co­uetous of riches, and neuer obserued any thing that he promised. He was thankfull to his friends, and cruell to his enemies: finally, he was such a one, that tyrannies which seuerally were scattered in others, in him alone were altogether assembled.

Amongst all the iniquities that he inuented, and amongst the tyranies that he committed, he had one vertue very great, which was, that euen as he was head of all tyrannies, so was he chief louer and friends of all phyloso­phers and sage men.

And in all those sixe and thirtie yeares which he gouerned the Realm by tyrannie, they neuer found that a­ny man touched his beard, nor that any man sate at his table with him, spake vnto him, or slept in his bed, nor that any man saw in his counte­nance any mirth, vnlesse it were some Phylosopher or Sage man, with whom, and to whom hee liberally put his body in trust.

The Prince that absenteth himselfe from Sage men, and accompanieth with fooles: I say vnto him, though hee bee a Prince of his commonwealth, he is a cruel person. For it is a greater paine to liue a­mong fooles, then to die amongst Sages. Pulio in his first booke, Degestis Roma­norum sayth, that a worthy and excel­lent painter presented a table to Octa­uian the Emperour, wherein were drawne all the vertuous Princes, and for their Chiefetaine, Octauian the Emperour was drawne: at the foote of this table were all the tyrannous princes painted, of the which Phalaris [Page 166] was chiefe and Captaine. This table viewed by Octauian the Emperour, he commendeth the worke, but hee disallowed the intention thereof, say­ing, The speech [...]. Me thinks not meete that I being a liue, should be set chiefe and principall of all the vertuous men that are dead. For during the time of this wicked life, we reall subiect to the vices of weake & feeble flesh. Also it seemeth vnto me an vniust doing, that they should put Pha­laris for principall and Captaine of all the tyrants: since he was a scourge and e­nemie to fooles and ignorant men: and so earnest a louer and friend of Sages, and wise Phylosophers The fame of this cru­ell Phalaris being knowne, and his ex­treme cruelties he vsed, spred through all Greece.

A neighbour and Artificer of A­thens called Perillus (a man very excel­lent in mettels, and a great worker in works of fountaines,) came to Phala­ris the tyrant, saying, that he would make such a kinde of torment, that his heart should remaine reuenged, and the offender well punished. The mat­ter was, that this workeman made a Bull of Brasse, wherein there was a gate by the which they put the offen­der, and in putting the fire vnder the Bull, it roared, and cryed, in manner as it had bene aliue: which thing was not onely a horrible and cruell tor­ment to the miserable creature that endured it, but also it was terrible to him or those that saw it.

Let vs not maruell neither at the one, nor at the orhet: for truely the pitifull heart (which is not fleshed in in crueltie) hath as much pitie to see another man suffer, as of the sorow and torment which hee himselfe fee­leth.

Phalaris therefore seeing the inuen­uention of this torment, (whereof the inuentor hoped for great reward) pro­uided, that the inuentor of the same should bee put within the Bull, and that the cruelty of the torment shuld be experimented in none, saue onely on the inuentor.

Truely in this case Phalaris shew­ed himselfe not a cruell tyrant, but ra­ther a mercifull Prince and a Sage Phylosopher: for nothing can bee more iust, then that the inuention of the ma [...]ce bee executed on the fraile flesh the inuentor.

Now because Phalaris was a greate friend of Sages, the Philosophers of Greece came oftentimes to see him, which were very gently receyued of him. Though to say the trueth they profited more with his goods, then he did with their Philosophy.

This tyrant Phalaris was not onely a friend of Sages: but also hee was very well learned, and deepely seen in morall Philosophy: the which thing appeareth well in the Epistles which he wrote with his owne hand, I can not tell wherein hee shewed himselfe greater, eyther in the sentences and doctrines which hee wrote with his penne: or in the slaughter and cru­elties which he did with his sword.

O how many companions had Phalaris the tyrant, in this case in times past, and that (as I would) there were none also at this time pre­sent, which in their pleasant wordes The frailtie of the flesh. did resemble the Emperour Nero.

I neuer read other thing of those that are gone, neither haue I seene otherwise of those that are pre­sent, but many they are that blase ver­tues, and infinite which runne after vices. For of truth wee are very light of tongue and too feeble of flesh.

The Epistles which this Phalaris wrote are knowne to al men, I meane of those which know Greek, or Laten: and for those that know them not, I was willing to draw these that are present, and to put them in our vulgar tongue for two causes.

The one to the end Princes might [Page 168] see how good a thing it is to be Sage, and how tyrants [...]were praysed for be­ing Sages, and giuing good counsell.

The other, to the end the people might see how easie it is to speake wel and how hard it is to worke well. For there is nothing better cheape in the world then counsell. The sententences therefore of the Epistles of Phalaris are these which follow, in such sort as I could most briefly gather them, to reduce them in good and profitable stile to write them.

The particular loue which princes shew to one more then to another, breedeth oftentimes much enuy in their realmes For the one being loued and the other hated, of this commeth hatred, and of hatred commes euill thoughts, of euill thoughts procee­deth malice, and of malice commeth euill words, the which breake out in­to worse deeds.

Finally, when a Prince sheweth not to equals his fauour indifferently, he setteth fire in his commonwealth. Princes ought to forbid, and sages ought to consent, that rebels and quarellers shuld trouble those which are quiet and peace makers: for when the people rise, immediatly couetous­nesse Couetous­nes the ouer throw of Iustice. is awaked. When couetousnesse groweth, iustice falleth, force and vio­lence ruleth, snatching reigneth, le­cherie is at libertie, the euill haue po­wer, and the good are oppressed: fi­nally all do reioyce one to liue to the preiudice of another, and euery man to seeke his owne priuate commodi­tie. Manie vaine men do raise discen­tions and quarrels amongst the peo­ple, thinking that in troubled water, they should augment their estates, who in short space doe not onely lose the hope of that they sought: but also are put out of that they possessed. For it is not onely reasonable, but also most iust, that those by experience feele that, which their blinde malice will not suffer them to know.

It is much good for the people that the gouernours bee not vnfortunate, but that of their nature they were hap­py. For to luckie princes fortune giueth many things euen as they de­mand, yea and giueth them better then they locke for. What prin­ces ought to doe.

The noble and valiant Princes, when they see themselues with other princes, or that they are present in great acts, ought to shew the freenes of their hearts, the greatnesse of their realme, the preheminence of their per­son, the loue of their commonwealth, and aboue all the discipline of their court, and the grauitie of their coun­sell and pallace. For the Sage and cu­rious men should not behold the prince in the apparrell, which hee weareth: but the men which he hath to counsell him.

The Sage men, and those that be not couetous, if they doe employ their forces to heape vp treasures, ought to remember in their hearts, how to employ themselues to spende their money well: Sith fortune is Mistresse in all things, and that to her they doe impute both good and euill workes, hee alone may be called a princely man, who for no contrarie­ty of fortune is ouercome: For truly that man is of a stout courage, whose heart is not vanquished by the force of Fortune: Though we prayse one for valiant with the sword, wee will not therefore prayse him for excellent with the penne. Although hee bee excellent with his penne, hee is not therefore excellent with his tongue: Though he haue a good tongue, hee is not therefore well learned: And though hee be learned, hee hath not therfore a good renowm, And thogh hee hath a good renowme he is not therefore of a good life: For wee are bound to receiue the doctrine, of ma­ny which write: but we are not bound [Page 169] to follow the liues which they doe leade. There is no worse office a­mongst men, then for to take the charge to punish the vices of ano­ther, and therefore a man ought to fly from it, as for the pestilence: for in correcting vices, hatred is more sure to the corrector, then amendment of life is to the offender. He hath & pos­sesseth much that hath good friends: for many aide their friends when they would haue holpē them more if they could. For the true loue is not wea­ryed to loue, nor ceaseth not to pro­fite. Though Sage men haue lost much, they ought not therfore to dis­paire, but that they shall come to it a­gaine in time. For in the ende time doth not cease to doe his accustomed alterations, nor perfect friends cease not to doe that which they ought.

The proud & disdainfull man (for the most part) alwayes falleth into some euill chaunce: therefore it is a com­mendable medecine some times to be perseecuted, for aduersitie maketh a wise man liue more safely, & to walke in lesse daunger. For so much as wee doe excuse him which cōmitteth the fault, there is neither the offender, nor the offence but deserueth paine. For such a one that committeth the faulte through sudden anger, did euill: and if hee did commit it by deliberation, he did much worse. To desire to doe all things by reason is good, and like­wise to lay them all in order is good, but it is very harde: For temperate men haue such respect in compassing their doings, and by weight to cast all the inconueniences, that scarcely they euer determine to goe about it.

To the man which hath gouerne­ment two things are dangerous, that is to say, too soone, or too late: But of those two, the worst is too soone. For if by determining late, a man looseth that which he might haue gotten: by determining too soone, that is lost, which is now gained, and that which a man might haue gained.

To men which are too hasty, chance daylie manie euills and daungers, as saith the old prouerbe, The hasty man neuer wanteth woe: For the man be­ing vnpacient, and hauing his vnder­standing Two things requisite in euery man. high, afterwards come quar­rels and brawlings, displeasures, varie­ties, and also vanities, which loseth their goods, and putteth their persons in danger. Sith all naturally desire to bee happie, hee alone amongst all o­thers may be called happie, of whom they may truely say: Hee gaue good do­ctrine to liue & lest good example to dye.

These and many other sentences of Phalaris the Tyrant, wrote in his Let­ters, whereof Cicero profited much in his works, and Seneca also in his Epi­stles, and manie other writers besides. For this Tyraunt was verie briefe in wordes, and compendious in Sen­tences.

This Phalaris being in his Cittie of Agrigentine, a Phylosopher of Greece wrote him a taunting Letter, char­ging him with Tyrannie: to which he made answere with this Letter fol­lowing.

The Letter of Phalaris the Ty­rant, to Popharco the Phylosopher.

PHalaris Agrigentine, wisheth vnto The letter of Phalaris. thee Popharco the Phylosopher, health and consolation, through the comfortable Gods. I receyued thy Letter heere in Agrigentine, and though it sauoured somewhat Satyr­like, I was not agrieued therewith: For of Phylysophers and Sages, (as thou art,) wee should not bee grie­ued with the sharpe wordes you tell vs, but onely to consider the inten­tion [Page 170] whervpō you speake them. Quar­rellers & malicious persons, will haue the words by weight and measute, but the vertuous and patient men do not regard but the intentions. For if wee should goe about to examine euery word they speake vnto vs, wee should giue our selues to much paine, and we should alwayes set in the Common-wealth debate. I am a Tyrant, and as yet am in tyrannie: but I sweare vnto the immortal gods, whether the words were good or bad, I neuer altered it. For if a good man tell it mee, I take it for my pastime. Thou writest vnto me that all Greece is offended with mee there: but I let thee vnderstand, that all Agrigentine is all edified with thee here. And thereof thou maist praise mee. For if the Tyrants were not so much dispraysed, the Phylosophers should not be so well loued. Thou art counted for good, and art good: and I am counted for euill, and am euill: But in mine opinion thou shuldst not be proud for the one, neither I should dispaire for the other. For the day of the life is long, and therein Fortune doth many things: and it may wel be, that from a tyrant I shall be a Phylo­sopher: and thou from a phylosopher shalt be a tirant. See my Friend, that the long time maketh oftentimes the Earth to be turned to siluer: and the siluer and Gold becommeth nothing worth. I meane, that there neuer was a tirant in any realme, but that first he had bene brought vp in the studie of Greece. I will not denie, that all the re­nowmed Tyrants haue not bin nouri­shed in Scictle: but also thou shalt not deny me, that they were not borne in Greece. Therefore see and beholde to whom the faulte is: from the mother which bare them, or from the Nurse which gaue them sucke. I doe not say that it shall bee, but I say that it may well be, that if I were there in Greece, I should bee a better philosopher then thou: and if thou wert heere in Agri­gentine, thou wouldest be a worser Ty­rant then I. I would thou shouldest think, that thou mightest be better in Greece where thou art: & that I might be worse in Agrigentine, where I am. For that thou dost not so much good as thou mightest do: and I doe not so much euil as I may doe. The cunning man Perillus came into these parts and hath made a Bull, wherin he hath put a kind of torment, the most fearfullest in the world: and truely I caused, that that which his malice had inuented, should be of none other then of him­selfe experimēted. For there is no iu­ster Cruelty wel rewarded. law, that when any workmā hath inuented Engins, to make other men die, then to put them to the torments by them inuented, to know the expe­rience in themselues. I beseech thee hartily to come & see me, and be thou assured thou shalt make me good. For it is a good signe for the sick, when he acknowledgeth his sicknes to the phi­sitian. I say no more to thee, but that once againe I returne to solicite thee, that thou failest not to come see mee, for in the ende, if I doe not profite of thee, I am sure thou shalt profite by me, & if thou winnest, I cannot lose.

CHAP. XLVII. How Philip K: of Macedonie, Alexan­der the great, the K: Ptolomeus, the K: Antigonus, the K: Archelaus, & Pir­rus K: of the Epirotes, were all great lo­uers and friendes of the Sages,

IF Quintus Curtius deceiue me not, the great Alexāder, sonne to k. Phi­lip of Macedonie, did not deserue to bee called great, for that hee was ac­companied The praise of Alexan­der the great. with thousands of men of Warre, but onely hee wanne the re­nowne of Great, for that hee had more Phylosophers on his Counsell [Page 171] then all other Princes had.

This great Prince neuer tooke vp­on him Warres, but that first the or­der of executing the same should be­fore his presence be examined of the The prayse of Alexan­der the Great. Sages, and wise Phylosophers. And truely hee had reason: for in affayres where good counsells haue procee­ded, they may alwayes looke for a good ende.

These Hystoriographers which wrote of great Alexander (as well the Grecians as the Latines,) knowe not whether the fiercenesse wherewith he strooke his Enemyes was greater, or the humanity wherewith hee embra­ced his counsel. Though the sage phi­losophers which so accompanyed the great Alexander, were manie in num­ber: yet notwithstanding amongst all those, Aristotle, Anaxarcus, and Onesi­chrates, were his most familiars. And heerein Alexander shewed himselfe very wise. For wise Princes ought to take the counsell of manie, but they ought to determine and conclude vp­on the opinion of fewe.

The great Alexander did not con­tent himselfe to haue Sages with him, neyther to send onely to desire those which were not his: but oftentimes himself in person would go see them, visite them, and counsell with them, Saying: That the Princes which are the seruants of Sages, come to be made Mai­sters and Lordes ouer all.

In the time of Alexander Magnus, Diogenes the philosopher liued, who neither for intreatie, nor yet for any promises that were made, would come for to see Alexander the Great. Wherefore Alexander the Great went for to see him, and when hee had desired him that hee would goe with him, and accompany him, Dio­genes answered.

O Alexander, since that thou The saying of Diogi­nes. wilt winne honour in keeping of men in thy company: it is not reason then that I should loose it, to forsake my stu­die. For in following of thee, I shall not follow my selfe: and beeing thine, I shall cease to bee mine.

Thou art come to haue the name of the Great Alexander, for conquering the world, and I haue attained to come to re­nowme of a good Phylosopher, in flying the world. And if thou dost imagine that thou hast gotten and wonne: I thinke I haue not erred nor lost. And since thou wilt be no lesse in authoritie then a King, doe not thinke that I will lose the estima­tion of a Phylosopher. For in the world there is no greater losse vnto a man, then when hee looseth his proper libertie.

When he had spoken these words, Alexander saide vnto them that were about him with a lowde voyce: By The saying of Alexan­der. the immortall Gods I sweare, and as god Mars rule my hands in Battell, if I were not Alexander the Great, I would bee Diogenes the Phylosopher.

And hee saide further, In mine opi­nion there is no other Felicitie vpon the earth then to bee King Alexander. who commaundeth all, or to bee Diogenes to commaund Great Alexander: who commaundeth all,

As king Alexander was more fa­miliar with some Philosophers, then with others: so hee esteemed some bookes more then others. And they say he read oftentimes in the Iliades of Homer, which is a booke where the story of the destruction of Troy is: and that when he slept, he layd vnder his head vpon a bolster his sword, and also his booke.

When the great King Alexander was borne, his father Philip king of Macedonia did two notable things. The first was, that hee sent many Two nota­ble things of K. Philip of Macedo­nie. and very rich gifts into the Ile of Delphos, where the Oracle of Apollo was, to the ende to present them with him, and to pray him, that it would please him for to preserue his sonne.

[Page 172] The other thing that hee did was, that immediately hee wrote a letter to the great Philosopher Aristotle, wher­in he sayd these words.

The letter of King Philip to Aristotle the Phylosopher,

PHilip King of Mace­donia wishes health and peace, to the philosopher Aristo­tle which readeth in the Vniuersitie of Greece, I let the vn­derstand that Olympias my wife is brought to bedde of a goodly man childe, whereof both she and I, and all Macedonia do reioyce: For kings and Realms ought to haue great ioy, when that there is borne a sonne sueccssour of the natural prince of the prouince. I render thankes vnto the immortall gods, and haue sent many great gifts to the Temples, and it was not so much for that I haue a son, as for that they haue giuenhim vnto me, in the time of so great and excellent Philosopher. I hope that thou wilt bring him vp, & teach him in such sort that by heritage hee shall be Lord of my patrimony of Macedonia, and by desert he shall be Lord of Asia: to that they should call him my sonne, and thee his father. Vale foelix, iterumque vale.

Ptolomeus father in law, who was the eight king of the Aegyptians, did greatly loue the Sages as well of Cal­dea, as of Greece, and this thing was e­steemed for a great vertue in king Pto­lome: For there was as much enuy be­tweene the phylosophers of Greece, and the Sages of Egypt: as betweene the Captaines of Rome, and the Cap­taines of Carthage.

This Ptolome was very wise, and did desire greatly to bee accompanied The prayse of Ptolome with Phylosophers: and after this hee learned the letters of the Latines, Cal­des, and Hebrues: for the which cause, though the kings named Ptolomei were eleuen in number, and all warre­like men: yet they put this for the Chiefe, and Captaine of all, not for battels which hee wanne, but for the sentences which he learned.

This king Ptolomeus had for his fa­miliar, a Philosopher called Estilpho Magarense, who was so entirely belo­ued of this Prince, that (laying aside gentlenesse and benefits which hee shewed him) hee did not onely eate with the king at his table: but often­times the king made him drink of his owne cup.

And as the sauours which Princes shew to their seruants, are but as a watch to proue the malitious: it chan­ced, that when this king gaue the phi­losopher to drinke that which remay­ned in his cuppe, an Egyptian knight moued with enuy, sayde vnto King Ptolome. I thinke Lord how thou art ne­uer satisfied with drinking, to leaue that which remaineth in the cuppe, for the Philosopher to drinke after thee. To whom the king answered. Thou sayst well, that the Phylosopher Estilpho is ne­uer filled with that which I doe giue him: For that which remaineth in my cup, doth not profite him so much to drinke: as the Phylosophy which remaineth in him should profite thee, if thou wouldst take it.

The king Antigonus was one of the most renowmed seruants that king A­lexander the great euer had, who after his death enherired a great part of his Alexander vnhappy in his death. Empire: for how much happy the king Alexander was in his life, so much hee was vnhappy at the time of his death: because he had no children which might enherite his goods, and that hee had such seruants as spoyled him of his renowme.

This king Antigonus was an vn­thrist, and excessiue in all vices: But for all hee loued greatly the phyloso­phers, [Page 173] which thing remained vnto him from king Alexander, whose pallace was a schoole of al the good phyloso­phers of the world. Of this ensample they may see what great profite ensu­eth, of bringing vp of them that bee yong, for there is none that euer was so wicked or inclined vnto euill: but that in long continuance may profite somwehat in his youth.

This king Antigonus loued two philosophers greatly, the which flori­shed in that time, that is to say, A­menedius, and Abio, of which two Abio was wel learned, and very poore: For in that time no phylosopher durst openly reade philosophy, as if hee were worth any thing in tem­porall goods.

As Laertius sayth, and as Pu­lio declares it better, in the book of the rulers and noble men of the Greekes.

The Schooles of the Vuiuersitie were so correct, that the philoso­pher which knew most, had least goods: so that they did not glorifie of any thing eise, but to haue pouertie, Pholoso­phers onely reioyce in pouertie. and to know much of philosophy. The case was such, that the phylosopher Abio was sicke, and with that sickenes he was so vexed, that they might al­most see the bones of his weake bo­die. The king Antigonus sent to visite him by his owne sonne, by whom hee sent him much money to helpe him withall. For hee liued in extreame po­uertie, as it behoued the professors of phylosophy. Abio was sore sicke being aged, and crooked, and though he had made himselfe so leane with sicknesse: yet notwithstanding he bur­ned alwayes vpon the weeke of good life. I meane that he had no lesse courage to despise those gifts: then the king Antigonus had nobles to send them.

This Phylosopher not contented to haue despised those gifts in such sort, sayd vnto the sonne of Antigonus who brought them: Tell king Antigo­nus that I giue him great thankes, for the good entertainement hee gaue me alwayes in my life, and for the gifts he sends mee now at my death.

For one friend can doe more to ano­ther, then to offer him his person, to de­part with his proper goods. Tell the king thy father, that I maruell what hee should meane, that I now beeing foure score yeares of age, and haue walked all my life time naked in this world, should now be laden with vestures and money, since I A custome among the Egyptians. must passe so great a gulfe in the Sea, to go out of this world, The Egyptians haue a custome to lighten the burden of their Camels when they passe the Desartes of Arabia, which is much better then to ouercharge them. I meane, that he onely passeth without trauell the dangers of the life, which banisheth frō him that thought of temporall goods of this world.

Thirdly, thou shalt say to the King thy Father, that from hence forth when any man will dye, he doe not succour nor helpe him with Money, Golde, nor Riches, but with good and ripe counsell. For Golde will make him leaue his life with sorrow, and good Counsell will moue him to take his death with patience.

The fifth king of the Macedonians was called Archelaus, who they say to be the grandfather of king Philip, fa­ther of the great Alexander. This king boasteth himselfe to descend from Menelaus King of the Grecians, and principall Captaine which was at the destruction of Troy. This king Arche­laus was a great friend to the Sages, and amongst others there was a Poet with him called Euripides, who at that time had no lesse glory in his kinde of Poetrie: then Archelaus in his king dome being king of Macedonia. For now a dayes, we esteeme more the Sa­ges for the bookes which they wrote then we do exalt kings for the Realms which they ruled, or the battels which they ouercame.

[Page 174] The familiaritie which Euripides had with the king Archelaus was so great, that in the Realme of Macedo­nie nothing was done, but first it was examined by the hands of this Philo­sopher.

And as the simple and ignorant would not naturally be subiect to the The mise­rable death of Eurip­des. Sage: it chanced that one night Eu­ripides was talking a long time with the King, declaring vnto him the an­cient Histories: and when the poore Poet would depart to goe home to his house, his enemies espyed him, and let the hungrie dogges flie vpon him: the which did not one­ly teare him in peeces, but also eate him euery morsell. So that the in­trayles of the dogges, were the wofull graue of the most miserable Poet.

The King Archelaus being certifi­ed of this wofull case, immediately (as soone as they told him) was so cha­fed, that almost he was bereft of his senses. And hereat maruell not at all: For gentle hearts doe alter greatly, when they are aduertised of any sud­daine mishappe. As the loue which the King had to Euripides in his life was much, so likewise the sorow which he felt at his death was very great: for he shed many teares from his eyes, he cut the hairs off his head, he rounded his beard, hee changed his apparrell which he ware, and aboue all, he made as solemne a funerall to Euripides, as if they had buried Vlisses. And not contented with al these things he was neuer merry, vntill such time he had done cruell execution of the malefac­tors: for truely the iniury or death which is done vnto him whom wee loue: is no other but as a bath and token of our owne good wills. After iustice was executed of those homi­cides, and that some of the bones (all gnawne of the dogs) were buried, a Grecian Knight said vnto King Arche­laus, I let the know (excellent king) that all Macedonta is offended with thee be­cause that for so small a losse thou hast shewed so great sorrow.

To whom king Archelaus aunswe­red, Among Sages it is a thing sufficient­ly The wor­thy saying of Archela­us. often tryed, that noble hearts ought not to shew themselues sad for mishaps and sodaine chances: for the king being sadde his Realme cannot, (and though it might, it ought not) shew it selfe merry. I haue heard my father say once, that Princes should neuer shed teares, vnlesse it were for one of these causes.

1 The first, the Prince should bewaile the losse & danger of his com­mon wealth: for the good Prince ought to pardon the iniuries done to his person, but to reuenge the least act done to the Common-wealth, he ought to hazard himselfe.

2 The second, the good Prince ought to lament, if any man haue touched his honour in any wise: for the prince which weepeth not drops of bloud for the things touching his honour, deserueth to be buried quicke in his graue.

3 The third, the good Prince ought to bewayle those which can little, and suffer much: For the Prince which bewayleth not the calamities of the poore, in vaine, and without profit li­ueth on the earth.

4 The fourth, the good Prince ought to bewayle the glory and pros­perity wherein the tyrants are: For that Prince which with tyranny of the euill is not displeased, with the hearts of the good is vnworthy to bee belo­ued.

5 The fift, the good Prince ought to bewayle the death of Wise men: For to a Prince there can come no greater losse, then when a wise man dyeth in his Common wealth.

These were the words, which the King Archelaus answered the Grecian Knight, who reproued him because he [Page 175] had wept for the death of Euirpides the Philosopher.

The ancient Historiographers can say no more, of the estimation which the Philosophers and wise men had, A saying worthy ob­seruation. as well the Greekes as the Latines: but I will tell you one thing worthy of noting. It is well knowne through all the world, that Scipio the Ethnicke, was one of the worthiest that euer was in Rome: for by his name, and by his occasion, Rome got such a memory as shall endure.

And this was not only for that he conquered Affricke, but for the great worthinesse of his person. Men ought not to esteeme a little these two giftes in one man, that is to say to be happy and aduenturous: For many of the Auncients in times past wanne glory by their swords, and after lost it by their euill liues. The Romane Histo­riographers say, that the first that wrote in Heroicall meeter in the La­tine tongue, was Ennius the Poet, the workes of whom was so esteemed of Scipio the Ethnick, that when this ad­uenturous and so luckie Romane dyed, he commaunded in his will and te­stament, that they should hang the image of this Ennius the Poet ouer his graue.

By that the great Scipio did at his death, wee may well coniecture how great a friend he was of Sages in his life: since he had rather for his ho­nour, see the Statue of Ennius on his graue: then the banner wherwith he wonne and conquered Affricke.

In the time of Pirrus (which was King of the Epirotes, and great enemy of the Romanes) flourished a Philo­sopher named Cinas, borne in Thessa­ly. who (as they say, was the Disciple of Demosthenes. The Historiographers at that time did so much esteeme this Cinas, that they sayde he was the Ma­ster and measure of mans eloquence: for he was very pleasant in words and profound sentences. This Cinas serued for three offices in the Palace of king Pirrus.

1 First he made pastime at his Table in that hee did declare: for he had a good Sentences of Cinna. grace in things of laughter.

2 Secondarily, he wrote the valiant deedes of his history: for in his stile hee had great cloquence, and to write the truth he was a witnesse of sight.

3 Totrdly, he went for Ambassadouring at affayres of great importance: for he was naturally subtill and witty, and in dispatching businesse hee was very fortunate. He vsed so many meanes in his businesse, and had so great perswasion in his words, that hee neuer tooke vpon him to speake of things of warre: but ey­ther he set a long truce, or else hee made a perpetuall peace. The King Pirrus saide to this Cinas. O Cinas for 3. things I thanke to the immortall Gods.

1 The first, for that they created mee a King, and not a seruant: for the grea­test good that mortall men haue, is to haue liberty to commaund many, and not bee bound to obey any,

2 The second, I thanke the immortal gods for that they naturally made mee stout of heart: for the man which with e­uery trifle is abashed, it were better for him to leaue his life.

3 The third, I giue the immortall gods thanks for that in the gouernement of my commonwealth, and for the great affaires and busines of my realme (as well in wars as in other things) they gaue me such a man (as thou art) in my company: For by thy gentle speech, I haue conquered and abtained many Cities, which by my cruell sword I could neuer winne nor attaine. These were the words which Pyrrus sayd vnto his friend Cinas the Poet. Let euery Prince know now, how great louers of wise men those were in times past: and as vpon a sodaine I haue recited these few examples, so with small study I haue heaped infinite Histories.

The end of the first Booke.

THE SECOND BOOKE OF THE DYALL OF PRINCES. WHERE­IN THE AVTHOR TREATETH HOW NOBLE Princes and great Lordes should behaue themselues towardes their Wiues: And how they ought to nourish and bring vp their Chyldren.

CHAP. I, ¶ Of what excellencie Marriage is, and whereas common people mar­rie of free will, Princes and Noble-men ought to marry of necessitie.

AMong al the friend­ships & companies of this life, there is none so naturall as that betweene the No loue comparable to that of man and wife. husband & the wife liuing in one house: For all other companyes are caused by free will onely, but this proceedeth both by wil and necessitie. There is at this day no Lyon so fierce, no Ser­pent so venemous, no Viper so infe­ctiue, no Aspicke so mortall, neyther any beast so terrible, but at the least both male and female do once in the yeare meete and conioyne: and al­though that in brute beasts there lac­keth reason, yet notwithstanding they haue a natural instinction to assem­ble themselues for the conseruation of their kinde.

In this case men deserue no lesse reproch then Beasts merite praise: For after that the Females by genera­tion are bigge, they neuer agree that the Males should accompanie with them. According to the diuersity of Nations, so among thēselues they dif­fer the one from the other, in Lawes, Languages, Ceremonies, & customs: but in the ende all agree in one thing, for that they enforce themselues to celebrate marriage. As the Scrip­ture teacheth vs, Since the world was created, there hath nothing bene more an­cient, then the Sacrament of Marriage: For that day that Man was formed, the selfe same day he celebrated mariage with a Woman, in the terrestriall Paradise.

The ancient Hystoriographers (as­well Greekes as Latines) wrote many great things in the praise of Mariage: but they could not say nor write so much, as continuall experience doth shew vs. Therfore leauing the super­fluous, Fiue things follow mar­riage. and taking the most necessary, [Page 178] wee say that fiue commodities follow the Sage man, who hath taken the yoke of Matrimonie.

The first is, the memorie which re­maineth to the children, as successors and heyres of their Fathers. For as the Phylosopher Pythagoras sayeth: When a father passeth out of this present life, and leaueth behinde him a Childe be­ing his Heyre, they cannot say vnto him that hee dyeth, but that he waxeth young in his Childe, since the child doth inherite the Flesh, the Goods, and the memorie of the Father.

Among the ancients it was a com­mon prouerbe, that the taste of all tastes is Bread, the sauour of all sa­uours is Salt, and the greatest loue of all Loues is from the Fathers to their children. And though perchaunce we see the Father shew some rigor to their children, we ought not therefore to say that they hate them, and des­pise them: for the tender loue of the Father to the Sonne is such, that hee cannot endure him to doe any thing amisse, or worthy of rebuke. Not only The loue of the Father to the child. men of reason and brute beasts, but also the Hedge and Garden-trees, to their possibilitie, procure to continue their kinde: and it is plainly seene, in that before the fruits and hearbs were formed to be eaten, the seeds and kir­nels were made to be kept. Men na­turally desire honor in their life, and memorie after theyr death. There­fore (I say) that they come to honour by High, and Noble, and Heroycall facts, but the Memorie is left by the good and Legittimate children: For the children which are borne in adultrie, are begotten in sinne, and with great care are nourished.

The second benefit of Marriage is, that they auoyd adulterie, and it is no small matter to auoyde this vice. For the Adulterers are not onely taken in the Christian religion for offenders: but euen amongst the Gentiles also, they are counted infamous.

The sage Solon in the lawes that he gaue vnto the Athenians, commaun­ded vpon streight precepts that they The saying of Solon. should Marrie, to auoyde adulterie, vpon paine that the childe borne in a­dultrie, should be made the common slaue of the Cittie. The Romanes (as men foreseeing all things,) ordained in the tables of theyr Lawes, that the children which were born in adultery should not be heyres of the Goods of theyr Fathers. When the Oratour Eschynes was banished out of Athens, as he came by the Rhodes, he tooke no such pains in any one thing as he did in perswading the Rhodians to marry, and not to liue in adulterie: For a­mong those barbarous, Matrimonie was not common, but onely among them which were Officers of the Commonwealth.

Cicero in a familiar Epistle, saith: that the great Romaine Marcus Por­cio, being gouernor in the Common­wealth, neuer agreed that an Vnckle of his should bee maister of the Ro­main chiualry, vnlesse he were marry­ed: which office was promised him by the Senate. His name was Rufus, a stout and valiant man of warre: this notwithstanding Marcus Porcio saide, that that praise which Rufus deserued for being valiant, and hardie: he lost againe for liuing in adulterie. And that he would neuer graunt his voyce, nor bee in place where they commit­ted any charge in the warres to a man that had not a lawfull wife.

I say therefore, that if the Gen­tiles and Infidels esteemed Marriage so much, and despised the deedes of the adulterers so greatly: much more true Christians should be in this case warie and circumspect. For the gen­tiles feared nothing but onely infamy: but all true Christians ought to feare both infamie, and also paine. Since that of necessitie mans seede must in­crease, [Page 179] and that wee see men suffer themselues to bee ouercome with the flesh: it were much better that they should maintaine a good Houshold, and liue vprightly with a wife, then to waste theyr goods, and burden theyr conscience with a Concubine. For it is oftentimes seene, that that which a Gentleman consumeth abrode vpon an Harlot with shame, would keepe his Wife and Children at home with honestie.

The third commoditie of Marry­age A third cō ­modity of Marriage. is, the laudable and louing com­panie, the which is, or ought to bee betweene them that are Matryed: The anciēt Philophers defining what Man was, saide; That hee was a crea­ture, the which by nature was sociable communicable, & reasonable: wher­of it followeth, that the man beeing solitarie and close in his conditions, cannot bee in his stomacke but enui­ous. We that are men loue the good inclination, and doe also commend the same in beasts: for all that the se­dicious man and the resty horse eate, wee thinke it euill spent. A sad man, a sole man, a man shut in, and solitary, what profite can hee doe to the peo­ple? For if euery man should be loc­ked vp in his house, the Common­wealth should forthwith perish.

My intention is to speake against the Vacabonds, which without taking vpon them any craft or facultie, passe the age of fortie, of fiftie yeares, and would not, nor will not marrie yet, because they would be vicious all the daies of their life. It is a great shame and conscience to many men, that ne­uer determine with themselues to take vpon them any estate, neyther to bee Marryed, chaste, secular, or Ecclesia­sticall: but as the corke vpon the wa­ter they swimme, whether their Sen­sualitie leadeth them.

One of the most laudable and holy companyes which is in this life, is the companie of the Man and the Wo­man, in especiallie if the woman bee vertuous: For the noble and vertu­ous wife withdraweth all the sorowes from the heart of her Husband, and accomplisheth his desires, whereby he liueth at rest. When the wife is vertuous, and the husband wise, wee ought to belieue that betweene them two is the true loue: For the one not being suspect with the other, and ha­uing childrē in the midst, it is vnpos­sible but that they should liue in con­cord. For all that I haue read & seene, I would say, that if the mā & the wife doe liue quietly together, a man may not only cal them good maried folks, (but also holy persons) for to speake the truth the yoke of matrimony is so great, that it cannot be accomplished without much merite. The contrarie ought and may be said of those which are euill marryed: whom we will not What in­conenience so loueth them that are not ma­ryed in the feare of the Lord. call a companie of Saintes, but rather a companie of diuells. For the wise that hath an euill husband, may say, shee hath a diuell in her house: and the Husband that hath an euill Wife, let him make account that hee hath a Hell it selfe in his house. For the e­uill wiues are worse then infernall Fu­ries. Because in hell there are none tormented but the euill onely: but the euill woman tormenteth both the good and the euill.

Concluding therefore this matter, (I say also and affirme) that betwixt the Husband and the wife which are wel married, is the true and very loue: and they onely and no others, may be called perfit and perpetuall friends. The other Parents and Friendes, if they do loue and praise vs in our pre­sence, they hate and despise vs in our absence. If they giue vs faire words, they beare vs euill hearts: Finallie, they loue vs in our prosperitie, and forsake vs in our aduersitie: but it is not so amongst the Noble and vertu­ous [Page 180] married persons: For they loue both within and without the house, in prosperity, and in aduersitie, in pouer­tie and in riches, in absence, and in presence, seeing themselues merrie, and perceyuing themselues sad: and if they doe it not, truely they ought to doe it: For when the Husband is troubled in his foote, the wife ought to be grieued at her heart.

The fourth commoditie of Marri­age is, that the men and women mar­ryed, The fourth commodity belonging to mariage. haue more authoritie and graui­tie then the others. The lawes which were made in olde time in the fauour Marriage, were manie and diuers: For Capharoneus, in the lawes that hee gaue to the Egyptians, cōmanded and ordained vpon grieuous paines, that the man that was not maryed, should not haue any office of gouernment in the Common-wealth. And he saide further, that hee that hath not learned to gouern his house, can euil gouerne a common-wealth.

According to the Lawes that hee gaue to the Athenians, hee perswaded all those of the Common-wealth to marry themselues voluntarily: but to the heads and Captaines, which go­uerne the affaires of warre, hee com­maunded to marrie of necessitie, say­ing: That to men which are lecherous, God seldome giueth victoryes.

Lycurgus the renowmed gouernor and giuer of the lawes to the Lacede­monians, commaunded that all Cap­taines of the armyes, and the Priestes of the temples should bee marryed: saying, That the sacrifices of Marryed men were more acceptable to the Gods, The wor­thie sayings of Lycur­gus. then those of any other. As Plinie saith, in an Epistle that hee sent to Falconius his friend, rebuking him for that hee was not marryed: where he declareth that the Romaines in olde time had a law, that the Dictatour, and the Pretor, the Censour and the Questour, and all the Knights should of necessity be marryed: For the man that hath not a wife and children Legitimate in his house, cannot haue nor hold great au­thoritie in the Common-wealth.

Plutarche, in the booke that he made of the praise of Marriage, saith: that the Priests of the Romaines did not a­gree to them that were vnmarryed, to come and sit downe in the temples: so that the young-Maydens prayed without at the Church dore, and the young men prayed on theyr knees in the Temple, onely the marryed men were permitted to sit or stand.

Plynie in an Epistle that hee wrote to Fabarus his father in law, saith, that the Emperor Augustus had a custom, that he neuer suffered any yong man in his presence to sitte, nor permitted any man Marryed, to tell his tale on The prayse of marriage foote. Plutarch, in the booke that hee made in the praise of women, saieth: that since the Realme of Corinth was peopled more with Batchelours then with Marryed men, they ordayned, amongst them, that the man or wo­man that had not bene marryed, and also that had not kept Children and House, (if they liued after a certaine age) after theyr deaths should not be buryed.

CHAP. II. ¶ The Authour following his purpose, declareth that by meanes of Marry­age, many mortall enemies haue beene made good and perfite Friends.

BY sundrie examples that we haue decla­red, and by all that which remaineth to declare, a man may knowe well enough, of what excellencie Matrimonie is: not onely for the charge of Consci­ence, but also for the things touching [Page 181] honour: for to say the truth, the men that in the Common-wealth are married, giue small occasion to bee slaundered, and haue more cause to be honourd. VVe cannot deny, but that Matrimony is trouble some and chargeable to them that be marryed for two causes: The one is, in bring­ing vp their children: and the other, The cares incident to ma [...]age. in suffering the importunities of their Mothers. Yet in fine, we cannot deny, but that the good and vertuous wife is shee that setteth a stay in the house, and keepeth her husband in estimati­on in the Common-wealth: for in the publike affayres, they giue more faith and credite vnto those that are charged with children, then vnto o­thers that are loaden with yeeres.

The fifth commoditie that ensu­eth Matrimony, is the peace and re­conciliations that are made betweene the enemies by meanes of Marriage. Men in this age are so couetous, so importune, and malicious, that there are very few but haue enemies, wher­by groweth contention and debate: for by our weaknesse we fall daily into a thousand occasions of enmities; and scarcely wee can finde one to bring vs againe into friendship. Con­sidering what men desire, what things they procure, and whereunto they aspire, I maruell not that they haue so few friends: but I much muse that they haue no more enemies. For in things of weight, they marke not who haue beene their friends, they con­sider not they are their neighbours, neyther they regard that they are Christians: but their conscience laid a part, and honestie set a side, euery man seeketh for himselfe and his own affayres, though it bee to the preiu­dice of all his neighbours. What friendshippe can there bee amongst proud men, since the one will goe before, and the other disdayneth to come behinde? What friendshippe can there bee amongst enuious men, since the one purchaseth, & the other possesseth? VVhat loue can there be between two couetous men, since the one dare not spend, & the other is ne­uer satisfied to hourd & heap vp? For all that we can read, see, goe, and tra­uell, & for all that we may do, we shall neuer see nor heare tell of men that haue lacked enemies: for either they be vicious or vertuous. If they be euil and vicious, they are alwaies hated of No man content with his owne estate. the good: and if they be good & ver­tuous, they are continually persecu­ted of the euill.

Many of the ancient Philosophers spent a great part of their time, and lost much of their goods, to search for remedies and meanes to recon­cile them that were at debate & con­tention, and to make them by gentle­nes good friends & louers. Some said that it was good & profitable to for­get the enmities for a time: for many things are pardoned in time, which by reasō could neuer take end. Others said that for to appease the enemies it was good to offer mony, because mo­ny doth not only breake the feminate & tender hearts, but also the hard and craggy rocks: others said, that the best remedy was, to set good men to bee mediators between them, in especial­ly if they were sage & wise men: for the honest faces and stout hearts are ashamed whē they are proserred mo­ny, & the good do humble thēselues by intreaty. These means wel conside­red, and the remedies wel sought out to make friends, there are none so rea­dy and so true as Marriage: for the marriage done Sacramentally is of such and so great excellency, that betweene some it causeth perfect friendshippe, and betweene others it appeaseth great iniuries.

During the time that Iulius Caesar Marriage the cause of loue and amitie. kept him elfe as father-in-law to the great Pompeius, and that Pompeius [Page 182] held himselfe his sonne in law, there was neuer euill will nor quarells be­tweene them: but after that Pompeius was diuorced from the house of Cae­sar, hatred, enuy, and enmities en­gendred betweene them, in such sort that they contended in such, and so cruell warres, that Pompeius against his will lost his head, and also Iulius Caesar shortned his life. When those that dwelled in Rome rauished and robbed the daughters of the Sabines, i [...] after they had not changed their counsell, and of theeues to become husbands, without doubt the Romans bad beene all destroyed: for the Sa­bines had made an oath to aduenture both their goods and their liues, for to reuenge the iniuries done vnto them, their daughters and wiues: but by the meanes of Marriage they were conferred in great amitie and loue. For the Romanes receiued in marriage the daughters of the Sa­bines whome before they had ra­uished. Greater enmitie there cannot be, then that of God towards men, through the sin of Adam: notwith­standing there neuer was, nor neuer shall be greater friendship then that, which was made by the godly mar­riage: and for greater authoritie to Mariage a meanes of Peace be­tweene God and man. confirme marriage, the Sonne of God would that his Mother should be marryed; and afterward hee him­selfe was present at a Mariage, where hee turned the Water into Wine, though now adayes the euill maried men doe turne the wine into water. He doth not speake here of Religious persons, nor men of the Church, nei­ther of those which are closed in de­uout places: for those (fleeing the occasions of the world, and choosing the wayes lesse dangerous) haue offe­red their soules to GOD, and with their bodies haue done him accepta­ble Sacrifices: for there is difference betweene the Religion of Christ, and the sinfull Sinagogue of the Iewes; for they offered Kidds and Muttons, but heere are not offered but teares and sighs. Leauing therefore all those se­crets apart which men ought to leaue to God: I say and affirme, that it is a holy and commendable counsell to vse his profite with the Sacrament of Marriage, the which, though it bee taken of all voluntarily, yet Princes and great Lords ought to take it ne­cessarily: For that Prince that hath no wife nor children shall haue in his Realme much grudging and displea­sure. Plutarch in the Booke hee made of Marriage sayth, that amongst the Lidians there was a law well obserued and kept, that of necessitie their Kings and Gouernours should be marryed; and they had such respect to this thing, and were so circumspect in this matter, that if a Prince dyed, and left his Heyre an infant, they would not suffer him to go­uerne the Realme vntill he were married. And they greatly lamented the day of the departing of their Queene out of this life; for with her death the gouernment ceased, the Royall authoritie remayned voyde, and the Common-wealth without gouernment, so long time as the King de­ferred to take another wife: and so they What is re­quired of e­uery vertu­ous Prince. were sometimes without King or go­uernment. For Princes are, or ought to be, the mirrour and example of all, to liue honest and temperate, the which cannot well bee done vnlesse they bee marryed, or that they see themselues to bee conquerors of the flesh, and being so, they are satisfyed: but if they be not marryed, and the flesh doth assault them, then they liue immediately conuered. Wherefore of necessitie they must goe by their Neighbours houses, or else by some other dishonest places, scattered a­broad, to the reproach and dishonor of them and their kindred: and of­tentimes to the great perill and dan­ger of their Persons.

CHAP. III. Of sundry and diuers Lawes which the Ancients had in Contracting Matri­mony, not onely in the choyse of Wo­men, but also in the manner of cele­brating Marriage.

IN all Nations, and in all the Realmes of the World, Mar­riage hath alwayes beene accepted, and marueilously com­mended: for other­wise the world had not beene peo­pled, nor yet the number of men mul­tiplyed.

The ancients neuer disagreed one from another in the approbation and acception of Marriage: but there was amongst them great difference and strife, vpon the contracts, cere­monies, and vsages of the same. For they vsed as much difference in con­tracting Matrimony, and choosing their wiues: as these Epicures do de­sire the varietie of sundry delicate meates. The diuine Plato, in his Booke hee made of the Common­wealth, did counsell, that all thinges should be common, and that not one­ly in bruit beasts, in moueables, and heritages; but also that womē should be common: for he sayd, that if these two words, thine, and mine, were abo­lished and out of vse, there should not bee debates nor quarels in this world. They cal Plato, Diuine for many good things which he spake: but now they may call him Worldly, for the counsel profane which he gaue. I cannot tell what beastlinesse it may be called, nor what greater rudenes may be thought that the apparrell should be proper, and the wiues common. The bruite beast doth not know that which came out of her belly, longer then it suck­eth of her brests. And in this sort it would chance to men, yea, and worse too, if women were common in the Common-wealth: for though one should know the Mother, which hath borne him, hee should not know the Father, which hath begotten him. The Tharentines (which were wel re­nowmed amongst the ancients, and A law a­mong the Tharen­tines. not a little feared of the Romanes) had in their Citie of Tharente a law and custome to marry themselues with a legitimate wife, & to beget children: but besides her a man might yet chuse two others for his secret pleasures. Spartianus sayd, that the Emperour Hellus Verus, as touching women, was very dissolute: and since his wife was young and faire, and that she did complaine of him, because he led no honest life with her, hee spake these words vnto her: My wife, thou hast no cause to complayne of me, since I re­maine with thee vntill such time as thou art quicke with childe: for the residue of the time, we husbands haue licence and priuiledge to seek our pastimes with other women. For this name of a wife contai­neth in it honour: but for the residue, it is a grieuous burden and painefull office.

The like matter came to Ptolomeus King of Egipt, of whom the Queene his wife did greatly complaine. Ad­mit that all the Greekes haue beene e­steemed to bee very wise, amongst all those, the Athenians were esteemed of most excellent vertue: for the Sa­ges that gouerned the Common­wealth, remained in Athens with the Philosophers which taught the Sci­ences. The Sages of Athens ordeyned A law a­mong the Athenians. that all the neighbours and inhabi­tants might keepe two lawfull wiues, and furthermore, vpon paine of grie­uous punishments, did commaund, that none should presume, nor be so hardy to maintain any concubine; for they sayd, when men haunt the com­panie [Page 184] of light women, comonly they misuse their lawfull Wiues. As Plu­tarch saith in his Politiques, the cause why the Greekes made this lawe was, considering that man could not, nor ought not to liue without the com­panie of a woman, and therefore they would that a man should marrie with two wines. For if the one were disea­sed and lay in, yet the other might serue in bed, waite at the Table, and doe other businesses in the house.

Those of Athens had another great respect and cōsideration to make this law, which was this, that if it chanced the one to be barren, the other should bring forth children in the Common­wealth: and in such case, shee that brought forth Children, should be e­steemed for Mistresse, and the other that was barren, should be taken for a seruant.

When this law was made, Socrates was marryed to Xantippa, and to ac­complish the law, hee tooke another called Mirra, which was the daughter of the Phylosopher Aristides: and sith those two women had great quar­rells and debates together, and that thereby they slaundered their Neigh­bours, Socrates saide vnto them: My wiues, yee see right well that my eyes are hollow, my legges are withered, my hāds A worthie saying of Socrates. are wrinckled, my head is balde, my bodie is little, and the haires are white: Why doe yee then that are so faire, stand in conten­tion and strife for mee, that am so defor­med? Though Socrates saide these wordes (as it were in ieast) yet such words were occasion, that the quar­rells and strifes betweene them cea­sed.

The Lacedemonians (than in the time of peace and warre, were always con­trary to the Athenians) obserued it for an inuiolable lawe, not that one man should marry with two wiues, but that one woman should marrie with two husbands: and the reason was, that when one Husband should goe to the warre, the other shold tarry at home. For they saide, that a man in no wise should agree to leaue his Wife alone in the common-wealth.

Plinie writing an Epistle vnto his friend Locratius, and Saint Hierome, writing to a Frier called Rusticus saith: That the Atbenians did vse to marry Bretheren with the Sisters: but they did not permitte the Auntes to mar­rie with their Nephewes, neither the Vnckles with their Nieces. For they sayd, that brothers and sisters to mar­rie together, was to marry with their semblables: but for vnckles to marry Nieces, & Aunts with Nephews, was as of fathers to daughters, and of mo­thers to sonnes.

Melciades which was a man of great renowme amongst the Grecians, had a sonne called Cimonius, who was marryed to his owne sister called Pini­cea, and being demaunded of one why hee tooke his sister in marriage: hee answered: My sister is faire, sage, rich, The spech of Cimo­nius. and made to my appetite, and her Father and mine did recommend her vnto mee: and since by the commaundement of the Gods, a man ought to accomplish the be­hests and requests of Fathers, I haue de­termined (since Nature hath giuen mee her for my sister) willingly to take her for my lawfull Wife.

Dyodorus Siculus saith, that before the Egiptians receyued any Lawes, e­uery man had as manie Wiues as hee would: and this was at the libertie of both partyes, for as much as if she would goe, shee went liberally, and forsooke the man, and likewise hee left her when shee displeased him: For they sayde that it was vnpossible for Men and Women to liue long to­gether, without much trouble, con­tentions, and brawles.

Dyodorus Siculus sayde one thing, (where hee speaketh of this matter,) which as yet I neuer read in any book, [Page 185] nor heard of the ancients past, which was that amongst the Egiptians there was no difference in Children: For they accounted them as legitimate, though they were children of slaues. For they said, that the principall doer of the generation was the Father and not the mother, and that therfore the Children which were borne among them, tooke only the flesh of the mo­ther, but they did inherite their ho­nour and dignitie of the part of the Father.

Iulius Caesar in his Commentaries saith, that (in Great Brittaine, now cal­led England,) the Brittons had an vse, that one Woman was marryed vnto fiue men, the which beastlinesse is not read to haue beene in any Nation of times past: For if it bee slaunder for A beastly custome in old time. in England. one man to haue diuers Wiues, why should it not also bee a slaunderous and shamefull thing, for one woman to haue many Husbands? The noble and vertuous Women ought to bee marryed for two causes.

The first is, to the end God should giue them children, and benediction, to whom they may leaue their goods, and their memorie. The second, to the end they should liue euery one in their owne house, accompanyed and honoured with their husbands. For otherwise (I say for a truth) that the woman that is not contented and sa­tisfied with her own proper husband, will not bee contented nor satisfied, with all men in the world.

Plutarch in his Apothegmes saith, that the Cymbres did vse to marrie with their proper and natural daugh­ters: the which custome was taken from them by the Consull Marius, after that hee did ouercome them in Germanie, and that of them he had tri­umphed at Rome. For the Childe which was borne of such Marriage, was Sonne of the Daughter of one sole Father, and was Sonne and Bro­ther of one onely Mother, and they were also Cousins, Nephews, & Bro­thers of one only Father and mother.

Truely such custome proceedeth rather of wilde beasts, then of reaso­nable creatures: For manie, or the more part of brute Beasts, (after the females haue brought forth males) within one yeare after, they doo ac­company with their dammes, which brought them forth.

Strabo in the situation of the world, and Seneca in an Epistle, say: That the Lydes and the Armenians hadde a cu­stome, to send their Daughters to the Ri­uers and Hauens of the Sea, to get their Marriages, selling their bodyes to straun­gers: so that those which would Mar­rie, were first forced to sell heyr vir­ginitie.

The Romaines (which in all their af­faires and businesses were more Sage and modest, then other Nations) vsed An ancient custome among the Romains. much circumspection in all their ma­riages: For they kept it as an ancient lawe, and vse accustomed, that euery Romaine should marrie with one wo­man, and no moe: For euen as to keepe two wiues among the Chri­stians, is a great charge of conscience, so was it deemed amongst the Ro­maines much infamie.

Amongst the auncient and renow­med Orators of Rome, one was called Metellus Numidicus, the which one day making his Oration to the Se­nate, sayd these words;

Worthie Senatours, I let you vnder­stand, that I haue greatly fludyed what the counsels shuld be, that I ought to giue yee touching marriage? For the counsel rashand sudden, oftentimes is not profita­ble. I doe not perswade you at all to mar­rie, neyther yet doe say that yee shall not marrie: but it is true, that if ye can liue without a woman, yee shall bee free from manie troubles. But what shall wee doe, O yea Romains? since that Nature hath made vs such, that to keepe women [Page 186] it is a great trouble: and to liue without them, it is more danger? I dare say (if in this case my opinion might bee accepted) that it should not bee euill done to resist the lust since it commeth by fits, and not to take Wiues, which are continuall trou­bles. These were the wordes which Metellus Numidicus spake, the which were not very acceptable, nor plea­sant to the Fathers beeing in the Se­nate: for they would not that hee should haue spoken such wordes a­gainst Mariage. For there is no estate in this life, wherein Fortune sheweth her force more, then in this state of Matrimonie. A man may proue them in this sort, that if the fashions and vsages of the ancients were diuers, as concerning ordinance: truely there was no lesse contrarietie in theyr con­tracts and ceremonies.

Boccace the Florentine, in a Booke that he made of the Marriages of the auncients, reciteth manie and sundrie customs, that they vsed in making the Marriages, whereof hee telleth some, not for to follow, or maintaine them: but to reproue and condemne them. For the writers did neuer write the vices of some, but onely to make the vertues of others more cleerely to be knowne.

The Cymbres had a custome, that when they would Marrie, (after the A law a­mong the Cymbrians. marriage was agreed vpon) hee that was made sure should pare his nayles, and send them to his wife that should bee: and she in like sort sent hers vn­to him. And then when she of him, and hee of her, had receyued the nayles the one of the other, they be­tooke themselues Marryed for euer: and did afterwardes liue together, as man and wife.

The Theutonians had a ceremony, that the man that was sure, rounded the hayre of her to whome hee was made sure, and shee did the like vnto him: and when the one suffered the other to doe so, immediately they ce­lebrated Marriage. The Armenians had a law, that the Bridegroom shuld pinch the right eare of the Bride, and the Bride should likewise pinche the The law of the Arme­nians. left eare of the Bride-groome: and then they tooke themselues marryed for euer.

The Elamites had a custome, that both parties which were made sure, pricked one the others little finger, vntill they bledde: the which bloud they did sucke naturally, & this done they were marryed. The Numidians vsed, that the Bryde-groome and the Bryde should gather together a piece of Earth, and with theyr spittle they tempered it, and therewith the one annointed the forehead of the other: so that the Marriage betweene them, was to annoynt the one and the o­ther with a little clay. When those of Dace would be marryed, the Bride-groome and the Bryde, each one of themselues, were brought in Charry­ots, the one meeting the other: and when they came together, the Bryde-groome gaue a newe name to the Bride, and shee likewise to him, and from that time forwardes they liued as in lawfull Matrimonie.

When they of Hungarie would mar­rie, the one sent vnto the other a fa­miliar A custome among the Hungarians god made of siluer, whom they called Lares, and when they had re­ceyued the God of each other, the marriage was finished, and they liued as man and wife. The Siconians had a custome and lawe, that when they should marrie, the one sent to the o­ther a shooe: and that receyued of both, they agreed to the marriage.

The Tharentines had a custome, that when they did marrie, they set them­selues at the table to eate, and the one did feed the other: so that if by mis­happe, the one should chance to feed himselfe, that marriage was not estee­med for constant nor good.

[Page 187] The Scythians had a custome, and they kept it as a law, that when men and women should Marrie: as nowe they touch the hands the one of the other, so did they touch with their The cu­stom of the Scythians feete, afterwardes they set together their knees, then they touched with their hands, and then they set theyr buttocks together, and so their heads, and in the ende they embraced the one the other. All these ceremonies done, the Marriages were assured, and sufficiently confirmed: and so we might say of manie others, but to auoyde tediousnes, wee will follow our matter:

CHAP. IIII. How Princesses and great Ladyes ought to loue theyr Husbands, and that loue ought not by Coniurations and En­chauntments to be procured: but by wisedome, honestie, and vertue desi­red.

ALl men that desire to atchieue and obtayne anie worthie thing in this life, inuent and search manie meanes to come thervnto: for men by good prouision and circum­spection compasse sundrie things, which otherwise they should lose: vn­lesse they would by force take them. As in the marriages of our Christian Religion, wherein wee doe not suffer, that the man and the wife be parents, and nigh of bloud: leauing apart that the one is a man, and the other a woman: that the one is strong, and the other weake: oft times it chaun­ceth, that there is betweene the man and the wife more contrariety in con­ditions, then diuersitie in Linage: I would say therefore (for healthfull counsell, and necessarie aduise) to the great Dames, and Princesses, and to all other wiues, since they must needs eate and drinke with their husbands, that they must sleepe, treate, bee con­uersant, Good counsell for all sorts of women. and talke, and finally, liue and dye with theyr Husbands, that they vse much diligēce to beare with their conditions: For to say the troth, the wife ought in all things to follow the conditions of her husband: and the husband in some things to beare with the conditions of his wife. So that shee by her patience, ought to suffer the imperfections of him, and he like­wise by his wisdome ought to dissem­ble the importunities of her: and in such sort they ought to agree & loue together, that all those of the Com­mon-wealth should reioyce at theyr behauiors. For marryed men, which are quarrellers and seditious persons, the Neighbours in stead of weeping and wayling, for the depriuation of their life, demaund gifts the one of the other, for bringing newes of their death. Admit that the Husband be couetous, and vnthrifty, that he be de­formed in his bodie, that hee be rude in condition, base of linage, rash in his speech, in aduersities fearefull, in prosperities carelesse, in the ende be­ing (as he is) Husband, we cannot de­nie, but in the house he ought to bee chiefe maister. For the which it is al­so necessarie, that wee giue now vnto rhe Wiues some healthfull counsell, whereby they may beare and suffer quietly such great troubles. For at this day there is no Husband so lo­uing, nor so vertuous, in whome the wife shall not finde some euill condi­tions.

First of all, wiues ought to endeuor themselues to loue their husbands vn­famedly, if they desire their husbands should loue them without dissimula­tion: for as we see by experience, Ma­riage is seldome broken through po­uertie, nor yet continued with riches. [Page 188] For the euill marryed folkes through debate and strife, be separated in one week, wheras by good & tru loue they are preserued al the daies of their life.

To eate drie and vnsauory meates, they vse to take salt for to amend it. I meane that the burdens of matrimo­nie are many, and troublesome, the which all with loue onely may be en­dured. For as Plato the diuine Phy­losopher sayeth: One thing ought not to bee called more painefull then ano­ther for the labour we therevnto employ­but for the great or smal loue that there­vnto wee haue. Though some sundrie things bee troublesome and tedious, yet when with loue it is begunne, it is easily followed, and ioyfully atchieued: For that trauell is nothing noysome, where loue is the mediator.

I know right well and doe confesse, that the counsell which I giue to wo­men is sharpe, that is: for an honest woman to loue a dissolute man, for a sage wife to loue a foolish husbād, for a vertuous wife, to loue a vitious hus­band. Women bound to loue their Husbands. For as daily experience shew­eth, there are some men of so foolish conditions, and other women of so noble conuersation, that by reason apparent they ought to take them for Mistresses, rather then they should accept them for Husbands.

Although this, in some particular cases is true, I say and affirme, that ge­nerally, all women are bound to loue their Husbands, since that willingly, and not by compulsion they were not enforced to take them: For in like manner, if the Marryage pleased not the Woman, shee hath not so much cause to complaine of her Husband, for asking her: as she hath reason to complaine of her owne selfe, that ac­cepted him. For the misfortunes that by our owne follie doe chaunce, al­though we haue cause to lament them, wee ought also to haue reason to dis­semble them. Bee the man neuer so wilde and euil brought vp, it is impos­sible, if the wife loue him, but he must needs loue her againe. And though perchaunce hee cannot force his euill conditions to loue her, yet at the least he shall haue no occasion to hate her. The which ought not to bee little e­steemed: For there are many wiues not onely of the Plebeians, but also of the noble Dames, that could be con­tent to forgiue their Husbands all the pleasures they should doe them, and also all the loue that they ought to shewe: if they would refraine theyr Tongues, from speaking iniurious wordes, and keepe their hands from dealing lothsome stripes. We haue many notable examples in hystories, of mane Noble and stoute Ladyes (as well Greekes as Romaines:) which after The tongue cause of de­bate. they were marryed, had so great faith­fulnes, and bare such loyaltie to their husbands, that they not onely follow­ed them in their trauells, but also deli­uered them in their dangers.

Plutarch in the booke of the noble women, declareth, that the Lacedemo­nians, keeping many Nobles of the A­thenians prisoners (which at that time were their cruell & mortall enemies) and being iudged to die, their wiues concluded to goe to the prison where they lay, and in the end they obtained The loue of women to­wards theyr Husbands. of the Gayler therof, that they might goe in, and talke with their husbands: for indeed the teares were manie, that were shed, and the gifts were not few which vnto them were offered. The Wiues therfore entring into the pri­son, did not onely change their appa­rell with their Husbands, but also the liberty of their persons: for they went out as women, & the women in their steads, remained there as men. And when they brought out these Inno­cent wiues from prison, to execute iu­stice, supposing they were men, the Lacedemonians vnderstāding the faith fulnes of the women, determiued that