A dispraise of the life of a courtier, and a commendacion of the life of the labouryng man Guevara, Antonio de, Bp., d. 1545? 1548 Approx. 164 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 113 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2006-06 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A02300 STC 12431 ESTC S109583 99845230 99845230 10117

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A02300) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 10117) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 50:10) A dispraise of the life of a courtier, and a commendacion of the life of the labouryng man Guevara, Antonio de, Bp., d. 1545? Allègre, Antoine. Bryan, Francis, Sir, d. 1550. [224] p. In aedibus Richardi Graftoni, typographi regii, [Excusum Londini : Mense Augustii] M.DXLVIII. [1548] A translation by Sir Francis Bryan of the French translation by Antoine Allègre of the original by Antonio de Guevara. Place of publication and printer's name from colophon. Running title reads: A dispraise of the courtiers life. At foot of title: Cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum. Signatures: a-o. Reproduction of the original in the British Library.

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eng Courts and courtiers -- Early works to 1800. Country life -- Early works to 1800. 2006-02 Assigned for keying and markup 2006-02 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2006-03 Sampled and proofread 2006-03 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2006-04 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

A DISpraiſe of the life of a Courtier, and a commendacion of the life of the labouryng man.

M.DXLVIII. CVM PRIVILEGIO AD IMPRIMENDVM SOLVM.

Ʋnto the right noble William Marques of Northhamton, Earle of Eſſex & lorde Par, your aſſured louyng frēd Fraunces Briant knight, one of the kynges moſt honorable preuy Chamber, deſireth to you perpetuall health and honor.

IT IS not lōg agone (my verye ſynguler good lord) that I foūd you loking in a lytell boke called in the Frenche language Meſpriſe de la court, et lalouāge de la vie ruſtique, whiche is to ſaye in Engliſhe, the Diſpraiſe of the Courte, & the laude of the ruſtical life. And when I demaūded of you what boke it was, after your accuſtomed gentlenes, you were cō tented that I ſhould for ye tyme haue it, and loke on it, and I ſo doyng: after that I had in part ouerſene it, I do enſure you I toke great pleaſure therin, and not without good reaſon, foraſmuche as the matter was not onely pleaſaunt and fruitfull, but alſo full in euery where of olde auncient ſtories and wyſe ſaiynges of the noble and notable Philoſophers & clerkes. And at our nexte metyng together, partly at your requeſt I promiſed to turne theſame out of Frenche into our maternall tong, whiche you right wel accepted. And ſo at conuenient layſure (as ye may ſee) I haue finiſhed theſame, praiyng your good lordſhip to take my pore labor in gre, yt not only in ſuche a trifle as this is, but in any thyng els that I may do you ſeruice and pleaſure in, ye ſhal fynde me as mooſt bounden, euer preſt and redy aſwel for the great goodnes ſhewed vnto me by your mooſt wiſe father duryng his dayes whom I toke as a ſpecial patron: But further hauyng reſpecte to your moſt noble ſiſter, my moſt good and gracious lady the Quene, I thynke me fortunate to employ my poore engyn to that yt to her highnes or to your good lordſhip ſhould ſeme either acceptable or agreable. This litle boke then, lette it come into light vnder your proteccion. And in ſuche wyſe that if that ye thynke I haue erred in the tranſlacion, not to impute it to bee ſo dooen for lacke of good wyll and louyng heart that I owe vnto you, but for lacke of knowlage of the ſtories, which I do profeſſe is hard for to vnderſtand for one of no greatter litterature then I profeſſe me to be. Thus almightie God ſende you well to fare, and to proſpere in honor more & more to ye cōforte of al your frendes, and me, that to my power ye may aſſuredly nomber me among that ſorte.

To the right reuerende and worthy Prelate my lorde Willyam de Prat biſhop of Cleremoūte, Antony Alaygre ſendeth gretyng.

IT IS not many daies paſt ſithēs I beyng retyred for a tyme (my good lord) into ye village, and there takyng the commoditie and pleaſure of the fayre ſwete fieldes, a certaine frende of myne ſent vnto me a worke in the Caſtilian rong of the lorde Antony of Gueuera biſhop of Mondouent, & Chronicler of the Emperour: in readyng whereof I founde great pleaſure and profite. The title of the boke is the Diſprailyng of the Court, and the Praiſe of the life ruſticall, dedicate vnto the kyng of Portingal in ſuche ſort, that the better to kepe and to hold the wiſe ſentence & erudicions therin cōteined, I employed certaine houres after ſupper to trāſlate theſame into Frenche, not thinkyng among mine other ſimple workes euer to put it abrode, but after that I had cōmunicat ye ſame with ſome of my frendes that haue knowledge of the Spaniſhe tong, to leaue it in a corner to make it meate for Rattes and Miſe. Now for trueth, the firſt exempler was ſo euil deuided, and the leaues ſo out of order that I gaue charge to ye Scriuener that was my nye neighbour to copye them, & as who ſhould ſay to write it faire and in order, the whiche ſo euil went about it, a ••• ough by ignorāce he could not enſue ye originall, yet for to gette a litle money he ſolde where his pleaſure was ye copies ſo vncumly ſet together that I was ſory and repentant that euer I conſumed the tyme to trāſlate it, till at the laſt moued by the perſuaſiō of Annas Regyn Vicar generall, and by Peter Ciſter your aduocate, by them twaine my great frendes, I thought it better to preſente to the eyes of all men this euil tranſlated, then to ſuffre lenger thoſe euil exemplers ſo corrupted to my blame in ye hādes of thoſe that haue no right iudgement, to know from whom the faute came: wherfore my good lorde, vnder your prudent fauor & correccion I do aduēture herein my name and fame accordyng to my knowlege, truſtyng aſſuredly that your only name ſhal ſuffiſe to vanquiſhe and ſet aſide this ſlaunder, the whiche ſlaunder as enemie to learned men, ſeaſe not to withdraw thoſe that haue good wil and minde to ſtudie: I ſay this that as me ſemeth it is well worthie that worke of the wyſe biſhop of Spayne be preſēted to his ſemblable or ſuperior in learnyng in Fraunce, or rather aboue him in knowlege & vertuous maners. I will adde to to this, that the graue ſentēces & perſuaſion to vertuous life conteined in this boke deſerue to be offred to you that are accuſtomed to vſe thē after ſuche ſorte ye euery man haue plaine opinion of you that ye are ſent of God to be protector and patron of vertue, troubled & diſpiſed. Therfore (my ſinguler good lorde, as one of ye chiefeſt of the beſt ſorte) I dedicate to you this my litle laboure, not that I thinke it worthy to cum into your handes, but for to be a perpetuall witnes that I do owe vnto you my ſeruice with all reuerēce, to the whiche moſt humbly I recommende me.

From your cytie of Cleremonte this firſt day of Maye. Anno. M.D.xlii.
A diſpraiſe of the life of the Courtier, and a cōmendacion of the life of the huſbandman, compoſed in the Caſtilian toungue by the reuerēd father in God the lord Antony of Gueuera biſhop of Mondouent and Chronicler to the Emperour Charles. And out of Caſtilian drawen into Frenche by Antony Alaygre, and now out of the Frenche toungue into our maternal lāguage, by ſir Fraunces Bryant knight, one of the kynges moſt honorable chambre.
The firſt Chapiter. ¶ Of certaine courtiers whiche ought to complaine of none, but of them ſelues.

AFter that the noble prince Philippe of Macedony had ouerrunne the Athenience, on a tyme he beyng at ſupper amonges certaine of his Philoſophers, aſked theim whiche was the greatteſt thyng in the worlde? One of them anſwered, that to his thinking it was the water, becauſe there was more of that onely then of any other thyng vnder the ſkye. Another ſayd it was the Sunne, ſeyng his only brightnes doeth ſuffiſe to geue light to the yearth, to the ſtarres, and to the water. Another ſayd it was the great hill Olympe, whoſe heigth paſſeth the cloudes. Another ſayd it was the moſt renoumed gyant Athlas, on whoſe ſepulcre was builded the feareful mountain Ethna. Another ſayd it was Homer, that in his life was ſo much praiſed & after his death ſo muche bewailed, yt vii. great cities made warre amōges thē ſelfes for ye recouery of his bones, to kepe theim as a relike. The laſt & moſt wiſe Philoſopher ſayd, that nothing in this world ought to be calledgreat, but that heart whiche eſtemeth no great thinges. O high and noble ſētence, ſince that by that it is geuen vs to vnderſtande, that as touchyng the riches & honor of this worlde, more is ye glorye of him that ſettes light by theim, then he that hath the the caſt for to get theim. Titus Liuius praiſeth and neuer ceaſſeth to praiſe, the good conſull Marcus Curius in the houſe of whom, came Ambaſſadours of the Sannytes for to recouer certaine landes that he had of theirs, offeryng to him for the ſame plentie of golde & ſiluer: He hauyng in his hand certain herbes to put in his pot for his diner, anſwered them after this ſort, ye ſhuld haue offered this money to the Capitaines that diſdaines to dreſſe their owne diners, and not to me that deſireth no greater riches them to be lorde ouer their lordes.

Deſerued not more praiſe this Marcus Curius in ſettyng light thoſe talentes of golde of the Sannytes, then the Conſull Lucullus for robbyng theim of Spartes? Deſerued not more glorie the wiſe Crates for the riches that he caſt into ſea, their the kyng Nabugodonoſer for the treaſure that he robbed frō the Temple? To your iudgement, did not they of the Iſles of Bariares deſerue more honor, agreyng not to haue amōg theim neither golde nor ſiluer, then the couetous Grekes that toke by force & pilled ye mynes of Spayne? Was not more greater the heart of the good Emperour Auguſtus in ſetting light the Empire, then of his vncle Iulius Caeſar that did take poſſeſſiō? It is nedeful to haue wyſedome, experience to order it, cunnyng to ſet it furth, & fortune to bryng it to good ende: but to vpholde it and kepe it, had nede of great ſtrength, and for to diſpraiſe it, a good heart, becauſe that which is ſene with the eyes is more eſier to diſpraiſe, then that thyng whiche we haue already in our hādes. It hath been ſeen that many noble men hath had fortune ſo muche at their deſires that thei haue enterpriſed a thing almoſt impoſſible to attaine, ye whiche after for lacke of good diſcrecion wer not able to kepe it.

Wherby it is to be vnderſtāde that the greatnes of the heart doeth not cōſiſt ſomuche in obteinyng the thing that we deſire to haue, as it is to ſet light, & contemne that that one loues beſt. Apolonius Thyaneus, did he not diſpiſe his owne proper countrey & trauailed thorowout all Aſia for to go to ſee the Philoſopher Hyarchis in Y •• e? Ariſtotle leauyng the familiacitie he had with Alexander, returned to his owne houſe for to rede Philoſophy. N ••••• s nothing extemed the treaſure that the great king Cyrus gaue him for to folowe him in ye warres. The Philoſopher Anatillus refuſed thre times ye principalitie of Athenes, ſaiyng: he had rather be ſeruaūt to ye good, then a chaſtiſer of the euil. Cecilius Metellus a valiaunt capitaine Roman, neither would accepte the eſtate of Dictator that to him was geuen, nor ye office of Conſull that to him was offered: ſaiyng, that he would eate in reſt, that whiche with great trauail he had gotten in ye war. Themperour Dyoclecian (as it is manifeſt) forſoke with his free wyll the Empire, for no other cauſe, but to fle the brute of the cōmon ſpeche, and to liue in reſt at home. Worthy is he to be praiſed that hath ye harte to care litle for an Empire or a realme: but yet more is he worthy that can ſette light by him ſelfe and not to be gouerned by his owne will: for there is no man in this worlde, but that he is more in loue with that he deſireth, then with yt he hath: but howe coueteous or ambicious ſo euer any mā be, if he trauail x. daies for that which he hath, he will beſtowe an hundreth to obtain that whiche he deſireth, becauſe that we do not beſtow our labor as we ſhuld, but we ſtowe it after our deſires. If we do trauaile, if we be troubled, if we cannot ſlepe, it is not for neceſſitie, but for to ſatiſfie our wil and appetite. And that is worſt of all, we not contentyng our ſelfes wt that we can: do procure to can that that we deſire. O how many haue we ſeen in the court of princes, to whom it had been better for them that thei had been no lordes of their will, & leſſe of their deſires, becauſe ſythens they did that they might & deſired, begon to do that thei ought not to do? If the man ye offēdes vs ought to aſke pardon, let euery mā aſke pardon to himſelf before any other, for in my life I found neuer none yt hurte me ſo muche as my ſelf, I haue been only the procurer of mine own hurt. Who made me fall into pryde, but mine only preſumpſion and fondnes? Who durſte haue priſoned my ſorowfull heart with enuye, but lacke of naturall gouernement? who durſt haue inflamed myne inwardes with the fyer of yre, if it had not been my great impacience? what is the cauſe I am ſo great a gurmander, but that my bringyng vp was to delicate? what is the cauſe I haue not departed with my goodes to the poore and nedye, but the exceſſiue loue I had to my riches? who gaue leue to my fleſh to riſe againſt my foliſh deſire, if my heart had not been fixed in voluptuous pleaſures? O my ſoule, of all this domage & open faultes, to whom do you lay ye blame, but to myne owne ſenſualitie? Great folly it is, ye thefe beyng within the houſe, to ſeke for him without: euen ſo it is with vs a manifeſt faulte of experiēce, when ſeyng in vs the blame, and yet charge another with the occaſion: by this we ought to perceiue that we ſhall neuer ceaſe to complaine vntil the tyme we begyn to amende. Oh, howe often & many tymes hath vertue fought with the botome of our cōſciences, whiche ſtirred vs to be good, and our ſenſulitie reſiſted, whiche is vaine frowardnes, by the which battail folowed a darke corrupte iudgement: but to cō clude, we of oure ſelues as of our ſelues are very miſerable. The Poete Ouid reherſeth the louyng Philis the Rodian cō plainyng of her ſelfe & ſayeth: Oh Demophon, if I had not beſtowed tyme to loue the, and ſiluer, and ſhippes, for thexpediciō of thy voiage, thou durſt not well to haue gone, nor I to haue bewailed thy departyng, in ſuche wiſe that with my own wepons was my bodye wounded. If we beleue Ioſephus in that he did wryte of Maryana, & Homer, in that he ſayd of Helene, Plutarch in that he ſpake of Cleopatra. Virgil of ye quene Dydo, Theophraſt of Pollyſene, Zantippe of Cammilla, Aſſenarius of Clodia: All theſe ladies & excellent princes neuer founde them ſelfes ſo deceiued by their louers as thei wer by beleuing their owne proper coūſels, and lightly conſenting to the ſame.

If to Suetone, Zantippe and Plutarch we will geue credite & beleue thoſe thynges that they declare of Pompe, Pyrrhus, Hannyball, & the Conſull Marius, of the Dictator Caeſar, of Marke Antony & many others we ſhall finde they blamed not fortune ſo muche to be vāquiſhed by others, as in their proſperitie they wer ruled by their owne aduiſe and counſelles.

It is true, that often tymes the opinion of our kinne & frendes maketh vs to enter into buſynes out of the waye of reaſon, not caryng but for a foliſhe auauncement of goodes and riches. And at the ende when by their ſettyng forth one hath enterpriſed a certaine buſynes of importaunce whiche doeth require ayd and helpe, thoſe ſame be the laſte that ſheweth theim ſelues helping frendes: whiche is ye occaſion many tymes that men cānot returne frō enterpriſyng ſuche thinges as neither ſhall growe to their honor nor profite. Many men ſay that they haue enemies, recountyng theim often without findyng nūber: Although it be true if it be well noted, that none haue oftener or agreater enemy then him ſelf. And the moſt greateſt daunger that I ſee, is that vnder the ſhadowe to preferre & make better my ſelfe, my ſelfe is the cauſe of my deſtruccion. The Philoſopher Neotidas on a tyme beyng aſked which was the beſte counſell that a manne might take? He anſwered, the counſell of others with the diſpraiſyng of his owne: and he ſheweth the cauſe, for that the corrupcion of mā is ſuche, that often he ſearcheth in him ſelf with great pain, that whiche in the head of another, he fyndeth wt great eaſe: then it foloweth, that in the beſt tyme of our life our owne life deceiueth vs, the euil cōmeth furth on euery ſide, heuy thoughtes ouertaketh vs our frendes leaueth vs, perſecutors tormenteth vs, troubles maketh an ende of vs, and ambicion burieth vs. If we beholde this thyng: what we be: wherof we be: and wherfore we be, we ſhall fynde that our beginnyng is obliuion, our middle age trauail, the ende ſorow, and altogether an open errour. Then ſe how heuy is the courtiers life, as alſo how daungerous the waye is, where as bee ſtoones to ſtumble at, myer to ſticke faſt in, yſe for to falle on, pathe wayes for to loſe him in, water for to paſſe thorow, thefes for to be afrayde on, great affaires and buſynes to do, ſo that harde it is for any to goe there as they would, and more harder to ariue there as they deſire. All theſe thynges haue we ſayd, to the entent that the Courtiers may vnderſtād that neither I nor they can choſe ye good waye and leaue the euill, voide that that hurtes vs, and conſerue that whiche profiteth vs, folowe reaſon and plucke awaye the occaſion: but if by chaūſe ſome good fall to vs, we thanke fortune, and if euil come to vs, then we do put the fault in her.

The .ii. Chapiter ¶How that none ought to counſel another to go to the court nor when he is there to come from it, but euery man to choſe the life that beſt he liketh.

ARiſtarch the great Philoſopher of Theban, ſayd that tyme and mā was ſo diuers, that hard it was for the moſt wiſeſt to chuſe that to them was good, and to kepe them from that to them is euil.

There is nothing more true, for we ſee dayly, with the ſame that one is healed, another falleth ſicke: with that that one waxeth better, another waxeth worſe: with that that one is amended, another is put doune: and to conclude, with that litle thing that one is cōtent withal another is in diſpaire. The lerned Alchymus was by his Moecoenas kyng Demetrius, aſked wherein ſpecially did conſiſt ye greateſt trauail of the worlde? He anſwered, there is few thinges but in them there is either trauail or ſuſpicion, but aboue all the mooſte exceſſiue trauail that a man may haue, is neuer to be ſatiſfied: And that this is true, we perceiue that when a litle thing cōtenteth vs, how lytle ſoeuer it be, we make it our paradice with ye reſt of our life: whiche ſeldome chaunſeth to fewe mē, becauſe that liuyng as we liue, not beyng cōtented, would aſſaie & knowe if it wer good to be a kyng, a prince, a knight, a maried man, a religious or a marchaunt, a laborer, a ſhepeherd, or of ſome other eſtate. And at the ende, when al is proued, it ſhall be harde to fynde where we would reſt, ſo vnconſtaunt is the lightnes of menne. The wiſe determineth y to choſe the beſt is the meane. A ſimple creature is lightly contented with a ſmall thyng, but he that hath a great harte, thinkes that pouertie is a greuous life, like as they that be of high eſtate feare ye fall of fortune. Plato was in his yong yeres very worldely, as he that had ſene muche, aſwell in the warres as in offices, in whiche he was vſed, and alſo in handy craftes. On a tyme it was aſked him wherin he had founde moſt quietnes and reſt? He anſwered there is no eſtate of life wherin is not mutabilitie, ther is no honor where is perill, no riches where is no trauail, no ꝓſperitie but it endeth, nor alſo pleaſure but faileth: but when all is ſayd, I neuer founde ſo muche quietnes of mynde, as ſince I left myne offices in Cities, withdrawyng me to my bokes: ſignifiyng, that as long as we liue ſeruauntes of the worlde, we deſire all,, we proue all, we procure al, then al thinges well ſene & taſted, all thinges do anoye vs: the greateſt parte of our diſquietnes commeth hereof, that the aboundaunce we haue, ſemeth to vs lytle, and the lytle of others, ſemeth to vs muche. We ſaye that our wealth is trauail, and that the euil happe of others is reſt: we condemne others actes and we allowe our owne: we watche to gette ſomewhat, and ſodenly we ſlepe to leſe it again: we immagyn that al men liues content, & we alone nedy: And yet the worſt is, we beleue that that we dreame, and put not our truſt in that that we ſe before our iyen. What waye one ought to folowe or what eſtate he ought to choſe, none can well knowe nor counſell, becauſe y thyng is ſo troubleſome and without good iudgement, by whiche many is deceiued? If the ſailyng on the ſea be daungerous, ſo is the walking on the yearth troubleous.

As touchyng our life, we ſee that he that is whole, daily falleth ſicke, the ſicke dyeth, ſome other ſcapeth deadly daūgers, and ſome others lyngers forth to death. As touching the walfaryng men, aſſone commeth he to his lodgyng that goeth foftly, as he that goeth haſtely and loſeth his way. He that is in fauor, liuyng in ſlothfull reſte, had as muche neede of vpholdyng, as he that continually ſweates in trauail. Therfore I conclude, that there is nothing in this worlde ſo certain, as that all thynges is vncertaine.

Then let vs returne to that we ſpake of: It is ſayd that it is fearefull, to counſell any to marry, to ſtudy, to go to ye war, or to take vpon him any other thing, then that he is called to: becauſe in this caſe none is ſo apte to receiue, yt to him is ſayd as he is to receiue that whiche he is naturally inclyned to. Plutarche greatly praiſeth in his boke of the cōmon welth, ye good Philoſopher Plato (and not without cauſe) for he vſed a great policy, which was that there was no yong man entred into his ſchoole, but firſt he would proue him whether he was enclined to lernyng or no, ſo that thoſe that he thought not apte to ſtudy, he ſent theim backe, cauſyng thē to vſe their liues in ye cōmon welth. Alcib ia des the Greke mā be a ſufficient wytneſſe vnto you, whiche although he was yong brought to the ſchoole, and taught of a diſcrete maiſter, yet notwithſtā ding his inclinaciō was ſuche, that he profeſſed himſelf wholy to the warres. To him that is borne to weare a ſwerde by his ſide, it ſemeth him yll to wear a typpet about his necke, and he that loueth to kepe ſlepe, the court is nothyng fitte for him. To her that deſireth mariage, it is harde to kepe her chaſt: He that loueth to be a barber, why ſhould he be made a Paynter. To coūſel our frend to learne a crafte for to liue by, is but wel done: but eſpecially to appoint him what crafte he ought to lerne, that me thynketh worthy to be reproued: which brought the lawes of the Lacedemonians, the Lacedemonians commaundyng to the fathers vpon great paynes, to putte none of their chyldren to no crafte, till they were .xiiii. yeres of age to ſee that in the age of diſcrecion what their nature was enclined to. Let vs leaue this long communicaſion, and ſpeake of that we ought to aduertiſe the redar of: to coūſell any to leaue the court, ſuche coūſel I thinke not beſt to geue, nor yet wiſedome for other to take, ſeyng that there is doubte to counſell any in that they ought to do: Howbeit myne aduice is, that the ſage perſons choſe to liue in a quiet ſtate, and to dwell in ſuche a place, that he may leade a life without reproche, & chriſtianly to dye. Oftentymes men do remoue from one coū trey to another, from one toune to another, from one ſtrete, frō one houſe, from one companye to another: but to conclude, if that he had peine in the one, he doeth cōplaine himſelf vtterly of the wronges of the others: And this is the reaſon, becauſe he layeth ye faulte to the nature of the countrey, which nothing els is but his owne euil nature. What more ſhal we ſay, but in Courtes, in cyties, in villages, and in other places, is ſeen the vertuous and the diſcrete corrected, and the vicious not blamed. The wicked with their wickednes ſercheth by all meanes to make themſelues worſe. And likwiſe doth to ye vertuous with their vertues, make them ſelfes better in what ſtate ſoeuer he be called. As for the prelates, there is no charge in the Churche ſo daungerous but that a good conſcience can auoyde it, but a weake or corrupt cōſcience may ſone be caſt 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 great lorde, he wyll ſay that he hath nothing where wt to finde him: If we aduiſe him to be a religious, he wyll ſay that he cannot riſe early, if to marry he wil ſay it wil greue him to here his litle children cry and wepe, to goe to ſtudye it would trouble his braine, If he were coū ſailed to withdrawe him to his houſe, he would ſaye he could not liue without company.

Then preſuppoſe that whiche is ſaid, that none ought to coū ſell any to choſe the life he will take concernyng his honor & the wealth of his life, becauſe afterwarde he wyll more complaine him, of the counſell that he hathtaken, then the euil that he hath ſuffered.

The .iii. Chapiter. ¶Howe that a Courtier ought to leaue the Court for not beyng in fauor, but beyng out of it, to the entent of that beyng out of it be more vertuous.

PVblius Minus ſayth in his Annotaciōs that we ought to thinke many daies on that whiche we entend to do in one daie. The kyng Demetrius, ſoonne of Antigonus was aſked by one of his capitaines named Patroclus, wherefore he gaue not battail to his enemye Ptolome, ſeyng his ſtrength, his witt and his nōber of men? He anſwered, that a deede ones done, is harde to call backe again, and before a man begyn a harde enterpriſe, he had neede of long counſell. Agiſelaus a wiſe capitaine of the Lycaoniens beyng forced to anſwere ye Ambaſſadors of the Thebeans ſayd: Know not you O Thebeans that to determyne a thyng of importaūce, nothyng is meter then long ſtudye.

Plutarch doth greatly praiſe the life of Sertoreius in that he was not raſhe in determinyng, but graue in enterpriſyng. Suetone ſayeth that Themperour Auguſt was neuer haſtye to gette frendes, but very diligent to kepe thē when he had them. Of theſe enſamples, note what daūgier he falleth in, that is haſly in buſſineſſes and quicke in counſels.

None wyl wear a garment if it be not ſowed: nor eate the fruit, if it be not rype: nor drynke the wyne, if it be not clere: nor eate the fleſh if it be not dreſſed: nor warme him with wode, if it be not drye: Wherfore then do we counſell vs with grene coūſel, whiche ſoner ſhall ſmudder vs then warme vs. The wiſe man ought to haue before his iyen a ſober deliberaciō in his affaires, for if he thynke one houre of that whiche he would ſay, he had nede thinke .x. of that that he would dooe: wordes be but wordes, they may be corrected, but neuer the vncōſidered dede The fault of this, is that euery man ſtudyeth to ſpeake, to diſpute, to iudge, but none to liue wel, nor yet to dye vertuouſly. The graue perſons that wyll conſerue their auctoritie may not be teſtie or ſtubburne in ſuch thinges as they enterprice nor wilfull in that they take in hand, nor fickil in that thei begyn: for one of the greateſt fautes that a man may haue, is not to be founde true of his worde, and inconſtant in that he hath begun. A noble harte ought to foreſee that he is charged with and if it be iuſt and reaſonable ſoner to dye, then not to do it: by the whiche noble hartes are knowen. It it were a thyng harde & almooſte impoſſible Achilles to ſlee Hector: Agiſelaus to ouercome Brantes: to Alexā der, Darrius: to Caeſar Pōpeius: to Auguſtus, Marcus Antonius: to Silla, Mythridates: to Scipion Hanniball: and to the good Troian Dacebalus, theſe noble princes had neuer been ſo muche eſtemed as they bee, but that they vttered their noble courage. Then, good aduice ioyned with a noble harte, ought to gouerne great enterpriſes. Then to our purpoſe, my maiſter the courtier ſayth, he wyll leaue the curſed life of the court, and go dye at home, ſaiyng, yt to liue in ſuche trouble is a continuall death. O how many & often tymes haue I hard theſe faire wordes, that neuer were folowed, excuſyng them onely by the deſteny of the court, in the whiche they were faſt glued. When that a courtier lackes money, that any mā doeth him diſpleaſure, or that he hath loſt his proces: God knoweth howe many othes he maketh that he will forſake al, not to leaue his euil cōdicions, but becauſe that his buſynes goeth backeward: but long his purpoſe laſteth nor, for if our courtier happe to cum to welth or that he be inhaunced by his prince, ye ſhall ſee his former promiſes to waxe colde, his wil and his deſire to remaine there in ſuche wiſe ye ye would iudge him to be naturally borne ther. Fauor and couetuouſnes guideth the Courtier, ſo that one groweth with the other, and at the ende conuerted frō the maner of Chriſtians to courtiers. For all men knoweth that the court is a place wher men may get welth, and likewyſe ye place of mens vndoyng: We haue already reherſed the occaſions why men do withdrawe theim from the court, ſome for lack of mony, ſome for pouertie, or not beyng in fauor, or for age, all theſe thynges be of neceſſitie & nothyng of free wyll, nor yet praiſe to them that ſo withdraweth theim for the cauſes afore ſayd: but the true leuyng of the Courte, and of the worlde is, when ye courtier is yong, ſtrōg, in fauor, riche, & in helth, then with good harte to leaue the courte, to fynde in other places honeſt reſt after his degre: this is ſayd, to the entente that he whiche leaueth the court, ſhuld leaue it merily and without repenting, for feare that after his ſorowe is paſt, he would be aſhamed to returne to theſame, where he may chaunſe to haue great buſines.

The proude and vnpacient men do many thinges in a day whiche he had nede to mourne for all the daies of their life.

A colloricke heade is nothyng mete for the court, for if he will be reuenged of the ſhames, iniuries, craſtes, & wronges, that in the court he ſhall fynde, let him truſt that he ſhall ſuffre more in one houre, then he ſhal be able to reuenge in ten yere: whoſoeuer leaueth the court let him leaue it for euermore: becauſe that if he wyll returne to it again, & leaue his dwellyng in the countrey, he may be likened to him, yt hath a continual Ague: he that ſinnes & mendes, and after returnes againe to ſynne, that ſynne is more greuous then ye firſt. In lykewiſe to leaue the court, and after returne to it, is ſo open a faulte that it cannot be hid, excepte ye will ſay, he goeth to ſell vertue and to bye riches.

To our purpoſe, if we ſhuld aſke of an auncient man, what hath been the whole courſe of his life, and that he would anſwere vs, he hath enterpriſed muche, wādered, ſpoken, ſearched, founde and loſt. &c. We would ſaye that his life hath been a diſſēblyng folly. What ſhall we ſay then of our inconſtant Courtiers that dayly do theſame thynges? whiche forgettyng themſelfes, for the obteinyng of a litle fauour, do againſt nature, flatter, & begge. Remember aboue all thynges gentle reader here & els where, that I ſpeake not but of the vndiſcrete Courtiers that can not refraine their appetite with an honeſt cōtentaciō: which thing moſt chiefly cauſeth many ſage & diſcrete perſons to geue ouer the Courte, becauſe to refraine the wil of the heart, is a greater paine then to content the body: for the bodye is ſoone werye of ſinnyng, but the heart is neuer ſatiſfied in deſiryng: One may knowe eaſily the compleccion of the bodye, but the mynde of the heart neuer, and to contentyng leſſe, for the heart at euery inſtaunt requireth nowe one thyng now another, and within a lytle tyme after forgetteth all. O diſſemblyng heart that vnder a pretēce to be clere and loyall, make men to iudge that hypocriſy is deuocion, ambiciō nobilitie, auarice huſbandrye, crueltie zele of iuſtice, muche bablyng eloquence, foliſhenes grauitie, & diſſolucion diligēce: To conclude, that euery man ought to knowe how muche he may do: If a mā know himſelf to be ambicious, impacient, & couetous, let him go hardely to the court: And contrary, if the courtier fele his nature cōtent, peaceable, and deſiryng reſt & quietnes, let him be dwellyng in the village, and he ſhall well knowe that he neuer knewe how to liue, til he had drawen him ſelfe from the Court.

The .iiii. Chapiter. ¶Of the life that the Courtier ought co leade, after that he hath lefte the Court.

MYronydes a wyſe & ſage Philoſopher, capitaine of the Boheciens ſayd, that ye prudence of a man was aswell knowen by retiryng from the euil, as in choſyng of the good, foraſmuche as vnder the euil commonly the good can not be hid, but vnder the pretence of good muche euil may be diſſembled: euen muche lyke as the Antheme yt begynnes Perſignū crucis and endes in Sathanas & Barrabas: In like maner ye great euils haue their beginnyng by ſum pretēce of fained goodnes, in ſuche ſort that they be counterfeict muche lyke Maſkers, wrapt in ſwetenes as purgyng pylles, and gilte as is the Rubarbe. Ther is no mā I thinke ſo mad that kepeth not himſelf in aſmuche as he can from catchyng euil, & ſpecially frō open euil: but contrarywiſe, it were wyſedome to kepe him frō that whiche is not altogether good.

Alexander the great, cauſing himſelfe to be healed of certain woundes that he had receiued in battail, was reproued of his great minion Parmeno for puttyng himſelfe into great hazard in the warre: To whom Alexander ſayd, aſſure me my frende Parmeno of thoſe that be diſſemblyng frendes, for I wil be ware of them that be my open enemies.

Alcibyades, Agiſelaus, Pyrrhus, Antigonus, Lentulus, and Iulius Caeſar, were ſo circumſpecte in theſe thynges that they wer alwayes vāquiſhers, and died in the hādes of their frendes, and ſpecially becauſe thei choſe the good and lefte the euil.

Then he that leaueth ye court ought not only for to ſee what he leaueth, but alſo what he taketh, cōſideryng that asmuche or more harde it is to contente him hauyng left the court, as it was afore in the deſiryng to be in the court: what profiteth it to leaue the court wery & troubled, If thy harte can fynde no reſt in the place whether thou reſorteſt? Our bodye fulfilled with meates is led where one will haue it, but the heart is neuer ſatiſfied with deſiryng, and would (if he might) be in fauor with princes of the courte, and on the other ſide at his eaſe in ye village. If the Courtier dayly haue mynde beyng at home of the paſſions & affliccions that he had in the Court, it had been better for him neuer to haue gone frō it, becauſe that in remembryng them, the thinkyng is more prickyng, & the mynde weaker to reſiſt them.

In the court of princes chaū ſes often tymes that lacke of money or other great buſynes makes a manne abſtayne from doyng euil, the whiche beyng after in his houſe doeth ſuche dedes vnſemely to a gentlemā, that they deſerue to be corrected, yea, and bitterly puniſhed.

There be alſo another ſorte of men that forſakes the court to be more idle at home: And ſuche would be reiected frō the nomber of honeſt menne, ſeyng they choſe ye tyme for their purpoſe to ſinne in the village, fearing to be infamed or diſhonored in the court, and yet beyng in the countrey liues wt ſhame forgettyng all reaſon. To exchue theſe thynges he that leaueth the Court ought to leaue his percialitie that he hath folowed, & to forget all paſſions: otherwiſe he ſhal lamēt ye ſwete bitternes that he leues, & wepe the life that he hath begunne.

This is true, that in the court are more occaſions geuen to deſtroy a mā, then are at home in his owne houſe to ſaue him. It is a ſmall profite to ye courtier the chaūgyng of his dwellyng, onles by theſame meanes he chaunge his condicions.

When the courtier ſayth I wil withdrawe me to my countrey and go dye at home, that is wel ſayd: but this ſhall ſuffice that he honeſtly withdrawe him ſelfe, without determyng there dye. This mortall life is to vs ſo preſcript, that we ought not to purſue it with ſorowe, but that we are bounde to amende it. When Iob ſayd Tedet animam meam vite mee, it was not for that his life weried him, but becauſe he did not amende it.

Whoſoeuer leaueth ye court may be bolde to ſay yt he goeth not to dye: but may wel thinke he hath eſcaped from a fayre priſon from a confuſed life, frō a daungerous ſickenes, from a ſuſpicious conuerſacion, frō a great ſepulchre, & frō a meruail without ende. The wyſeſt beyng in ye court may ſay euery day that they dye, & at their houſes in the coūtrey that they liue. And the reaſon is: that beyng in the court, thoſe neceſſary thynges that are to be done in the worlde, cannot be done as they wold, nor when thei wold, for lacke of libertie. Yet I will not ſay, but many in the court do their deuor to do as they would, but I dare affirme yt for x. pounde weight they haue of honeſt will, they haue not halfe an ounce of honeſt libertie.

Likewiſe, let him that forſakes the Court ſette a wiſe ordre in ſuche buſynes that he hath to do, callyng to minde that to go home to his countrey nedes no lōg iorney, but to diſpoyle him ſelfe of the euil clothes of the Court nedes a wonder long tyme. For like as vices increaſe in a man lytle and lytle, ſo is it mete to roote theim out by litle and litle. This ought ye courtier to do that myndes to rule himſelfe, plucke vppe by lytle pieces the moſt notable faultes that are in him, and ſo pretely diſpatche himſelfe of one vice to day, & frō another to morow, in ſuch ſort that when one vice takes his leaue and is gone, ſtraight way a vertue do entre in his ſteade, ſo yt in proces he may go frō good to better. The courtier is in nothing more deceiued then in liuyng a wilde & wanton life, parauenture the ſpace of .xx. or .xxx. yeres, thinketh in a yere or two to become ſage & graue, aſwell as though he applied all his life in a ſobre and ſad life, & truely that happeneth for lacke of good iudgement, for it behoueth without compariſon a lenger tyme for to lerne to caſt away vice, then to learne vertue: conſideryng yt vices enter our gates laughyng and goeth out from our houſe wepyng & lamentyng. O how muche greueth it ye ambicious courtier, when he can not commaunde as he was wont to do? then it may be ſayd, yt to forſake the court is requiſite to a good heart, & a good witte to obtain reſt.

Thoſe that leaue the Court for fainte heart, be of that nature that it is more painfull to theim to ſee theimſelues abſent from the Court, then their ioye was when they wer in ye court: whiche ſayd perſons if they would folow myne aduice and counſel ſhould not onely leaue the court, but forget it vtterly for euer. And farther, the courtier ought to retyre in ſuche maner that he may come to the Court againe, if the feare and ſtudy in orderyng of his houſholde conſtraine him eftſones for to deſire the voluptuouſnes of the court. In the heart of the prudent courtier that forſaketh the court, when there falleth biſhoprickes or other great offices, the affeccions & deſires of the mynde ryngeth alarme, when he ſhall thynke if I had not come awaye ſo ſoone, that office or that dignitie had been myne: but he again remēbryng that many ſuche thinges hath fallen which he had not: ſo like wiſe might he haue in the ſtede of ye, a plain nay, of that which fell when he was gone. Then, is it not muche better to ouerſe and trauaile his owne houſe then to haue ſuche a ſhamefull denial in the court?

Therfore deſtinies of ye courtiers are ſo prompte and ready that for the moſte parte one is conſtrained to diſpiſe thē more by neceſſitie, then by wyll, and in that meane while their purpoſe is at an ende before they themſelues beware therof, For when the Courtier commeth to be at a quiet wt himſelfe, aboue all thynges it is neceſſary that he take hede of peſteryng of himſelfe, for if he did liue in the court euil willed, let him take hede that in the village he diſpaire not, by reaſon of charge, the importunitie of his wife, of his children, & the ſautes of his ſeruauntes, the grudgyng of his neighbours may parcaſe make him aſtonyed: but to thinke again, that beyng eſcaped from the daūgerous golfe of the court, he may repute him ſelfe halfe a God. And beſides this, none ought to thinke that he dwellyng in a village in the countrey ſhall putte awaye all troubles and diſpleaſures, for it can not be, but he that neuer fell in the croked & rough way may happen to ſtumble in the plaine way & breake his necke: and therfore it is neceſſary that he retiryng frō the court, take the tyme as it ſhall come, that he may the more occupie him ſelfe in vertuous exerciſes, to ye entent that to much reſt, and to much buſynes of minde let him not from the great good that commeth of this, to be well cō tented with a litle. Ioyne vnto this alſo that there is none ſo muche enemye vnto vertue as is idlenes, of the which idlenes be taken in the beginnyng thoughtes ſuperfluous, & cōſequently the diſtruccion of men.

To the purpoſe, hath not the courtier cauſe to cōplaine, that occupieth himſelfe in nothyng but in eatyng, drinkyng, & ſleapyng, and in the meane ſeaſon his better age, that is to ſay, his youth conſumeth away, as the fume of ſmoke, which procedes of idlenes in the court & doyng nothyng? where contrarywyſe he might in the village exerciſe himſelf to his honor, and to the helth of his body and profite of his neighbour.

In like maner alſo, the courtier that withdraweth himſelfe ſhuld vſe the company of ſuche as be graue, ſage and honeſt, to the entent that in the ſtede of lyers, flatterers, & triflers whiche he was aſſociate withall in in the court, he may be accompanied in the village with wiſe and ſage frendes, or at the hardeſt with good bokes, whereby in the lokyng of theim he may vertuouſly imploye the reſidue of his tyme, and with ſobrietie entertaine euery man, that men may ſaye he is come from the court to pleaſe the good, and not to rule. And if parcaſe one would make him baylief in the village or other publique office I would counſail him to take hede therof as he would of the peſtilence, for becauſe there is nothyng ſo troubleous nor ſo harde a burden to the mynde as to take charge of the rude & ſymple. I do not ſaye naye, but that he may and ought to help the poore commons of the village with ſuche knowlege as he hath lerned in ye court, or had before he came ther, when they ſhall haue nede, either for loue or for money. Alſo if they be at variaunce, healpe to appeace thē: if they be euil intreated, defende them. And this doyng, he ſhalbe eſtemed of the cōmons & praiſed of ye wiſe and prudent. Aboue all thynges beware of prodigal apparel, ſuperfluous bāquetes, and delicate meates, and ſtrong or precious wynes. For the abſenting frō the court ought to be to none other purpoſe but to liue ſoberly in the village, or els ſhall he make of the village the court, whiche ſhould make of the court, the village. And the courtier retyred frō the court ought to haue in ſinguler cōmēdacion mercy, as to viſite hoſpytalles, ſuccor the poore, counſel the orphans, vyſite the pryſoners, reade the holy ſcripture, and finally that he ſtudy to diſpoſe his goodes vertuouſly duryng his life, for when he ſhalbe dead, euery mā wyll clayme his goodes, but none will or can diſcharge his ſolle. And moſte chiefly, let the courtier that goeth from the court occupie himſelfe vertuouſly to dye. All theſe thynges that I haue ſayd, let no mā ſay that they be more eaſy to reade then to do: for if we wil enforce our ſelfes, we are more then our ſelues, & do not then well remembre our ſelfes.

The .v. Chapiter. ¶That the ruſtical life is more quiet and reſtful and more beneficiall then that of the court.

THE village whereof we ſpeake and the demaines therof, Put we ye caſe that it were all free and not ſubiect to any lorde (as certain there be ſo preuileged) that euery man there lyeth in his owne houſe, whether it be by ſucceſſion, or that he haue bought it freely without doyng any homage or ſeruice to any man. This I dare ſay, the courtier hath not, nor is not in ſuche free libertie in reſpecte of ſuche as be of the village, foraſmuche as of very neceſſitie, my maiſter the courtier muſt wyn ye Marſhal or Harbēgar of the lodging, and muſt receiue at his handes the billet to come to his lodgyng, & that late ynough & wery to his hoſt, breake opē dores, beate doune walles, diſorder houſes, burne implementes and ſometime bet the good man, & defile the wife. O how happye is he that hath wherewithall to liue in the village without troublyng bothe of himſelf & many ſondry places, without ſeking of ſo many lodgynges, without aſſayes of ſo many ſtraunge occaſions of ſtraunge men, without weping of any perſon, but is content with a meane eſtate, and is deliuered of al ſuche breake braines. Another benefite of the countrey is this, that the gētleman or burges that there doth inhabite maye be one of ye chief or chefeſt, either in bountie, honor, or auctoritie, the whiche happeneth ſeldome in the court and in great cities and tounes: for there he ſhal ſe other go before him, more trym and more braue and gorgious then he, as well in credite as in riches, as wel in the houſe as without the houſe. And Iulius Caeſar ſayd to this purpoſe that he had rather be the firſt in a village, then the ſecond in honor in Rome. For ſuche men as haue high hartes and mindes, and baſe fortune, it ſhould be to thē muche better to liue in ye village with honor, then in the court ouerthrowen and abated, and out of fauor. The difference betwene the tariyng or abiding in a litle place and a great place, is that in the litle places are founde muche people poore and nedy, of whō men may take compaſſion: and in the great place many riche men wherby enuy is noriſhed.

Another commoditie in the village is, that euery man enioyeth in quiet and peace ſuche as God hath geuen him, without to haue ſuche to come to their houſes, that ſhal cōſtraine theim to make extraordinary expenſes, or to haue his wife ſeduced, or his doughters defiled The occaſiōs to do euil be put away by reaſon that he is occupied in the mainteinyng of his houſholde, in trainyng of his doughters, in teachyng of his ſonnes and chaſtenyng of his ſeruauntes. He liueth confirmed to reaſon and not to his opimō: and liues hopyng to dye & not as he that loueth to liue euer. In the village, thou ſhalt not care for good lodgyng, nor for lookyng to thy Horſes and Mules, nor for the ladyng of ſuche thinges as they ſhall cary. Thou ſhalt not here the criyng of pages, the plaintes of the ſtuardes of the houſe, the babling of the Cookes, nor thou ſhalt not feare neither Iudges nor Iuſtices leſt they ſhould be to ſore againſt the. And that whiche is muche better, thou ſhalt haue no craftie knaues to beguile the, nor women to betray the.

Another benefite of the village is this, that he ſhall haue tyme enought to al thinges that he will do, ſo that the tyme be well ſpent, tyme enough to ſtudy, tyme to viſite his frendes, tyme to go a huntyng, and layſer when he liſt to eat his meat: the whiche layſer courtiers cō monly hath not, foraſmuche as they employe the moſte part of their tyme in making of ſhiftes to play ye courtier, or to ſpeake more plainely, to wepe and lament, in ſuche ſorte yt one may ſay of thē that whiche the Emperour Auguſtus ſayd of a Roman a great buſie broker the ſame day that he dyed. I wonder ſayd he, ſeyng the tyme failed him to chop and to chaūge, how he could now fynde layſer to dye? Another commoditie of the village is this, thoſe that be dwellers there may go alone from place to place without to be noted to fall from grauitie, they nede no Mule nor Horſe with afoote clothe, nor page to wayte of my lorde, or damoſell to waite vpon my lady. And that were ſcorneful to do in the court alone: And without daū ger one may walke frō neighbor to neighbor, and from land to land, and not therby miniſh any part of his honor.

Another benefite is, that men may go whether they will, clothed ſimply with a ſtaffe in his hande, a ſwearde by his ſide, or hacbut in his necke, and if he be wery of pounſed hoſen, lette him wear ſloppes, if he be a colde lette him take his furred goune for all is one there. A good Gentleman dwellyng in the village and hauyng a good cote of clothe, an honeſt Spaniſhe cloke on his backe, a paire of lether ſhooes, goeth as wel trymmed to the churche as doeth my lorde the courtier to the court with his goune furde with Marters or Sables. A man of the village of what ſort ſoeuer he be, is in as good caſe, that rydeth to market or to the faier to make prouiſion for his houſholde vpon a mare or a nagge, as a lorde of the courte is at Iuſtes vpō a great courſer trapped with golde. And (when all is ſayd) better is the poore ploughman on a poore aſſe, liuyng as he ſhould, then the riche man well horſed, pillyng & doyng extorcion to pore honeſt men.

The .vi. Chapiter. ¶That in the village the dayes ſeme more long and the ayer more clere and better, And the houſes more eaſy and teſtfull.

ENſuyng ſtyll the cō modities of the village, we ought not to forget that he whiche dwelles there, among other thynges hath commoditie of good corne, and conſequently good breade: contrary to this, in the court, & ſpecially ingreat tounes they haue bread for the moſte parte euil baked or euil leuened or not leuened at all, & the cauſe is, foraſmuche as in the tounes often there lacketh good corne, or good corne milles to grinde the corue, and holſome water, wherby often hath come amōg them great death.

Another commoditie in the village is this, the whiche I praiſe mnche, he that dwelles there, may practiſe and labour in mod thynges and better imploy the tyme then in the court or in ye great tounes: in whiche places it behoueth a mā to diſſemble, to ſay litle, ful of reuengyng and enuyous, a treder of ſtones and pauemētes, & muſt vſe grauitie, & ſeldome to come out of his houſe, and inceſſantly be graue. O half a God, that dwelles in the village, where liberally one may ſpeake what he will and ieſt with his neighbours before his gates and his wyndowe. And this may he do without euer to chaunge or to leſe any of his mean auctoritie

Another cōmoditie is in the village, that thoſe that dwell ther, be wtout compariſon more helthfull and leſſe ſicke then in the cities and in the courte, becauſe in the great tounes the houſes be more higher, and the ſtretes narower, and more croked, whiche is the cauſe that the ayre is corrupt and makes mē very euil at eaſe. In ye village the houſes ſtand more at large the men more better diſpoſed, the ayre better, the ſunne more clere, the yearth more ſwete, the priuate goodes or cōmons better ruled without contencion, & the exerciſe more pleaſant, and the company much better: And aboue all thinges the thoughtes leſſer, and the paſtyme more great.

Another commoditie in the village is, that ther are no yōg Phyſicians, nor olde ſicknes: And contrary to this, the courtier is conſtrained there to part his goodes in fower partes, the one part to flatterers, ye other to men of lawe, another to pottecaries, & the fowerth to ye Phiſicians. O well fortunate village, foraſmuche as in the, ſeldome or neuer is the Frenche pockes named, neither the pauſy not yet ye goute: fewe or none there knoweth what is a Iulep, a Pyll, a Sirup, or a Thyſan, nor no ſodain ſickenes. What will ye that I ſhall ſay more of the village? And if it were not, but that for neceſſitie, they are compelled to builde there litle pretie houſes, ye ſhould ſcant fynde one of theim that knewe what to do with morter & ſtoones? And ſometyme they are very well pleaſed with cabons made of ſmall ſtickes well faſtened together.

Another commoditie in the village is, that thee daies there ſeme to be more long, and they are better imployed, then they are either in the court or in the great tounes, foraſmuch as the yeres paſſe awaye there or one be ware, and the daies without any enoiyng of them. And how beit that the ſportes and pleaſures be more in the village then in the tounes, yet ſo it is that one day ſhall ſeine lenger there then ſhal a moneth in the court: & the reaſon is, for that the village is happye and fortunate, foraſmuche as there the Sunne ſemes to make a more longer day, the mornyng is redy to ſhew, and the night ſlow to come. Scarcely one can perceiue the dayes ſlyde away in the court: In the village if it be perceiued, it is beſtowed with honeſt buſynes, whiche cannot be done in the court.

In the village alſo is muche more plentie of wood then in other places: hay, ſtrawe, Otes much better chepe then in good tounes. Alſo in the village a man is at libertie to eate his meate where he will, & when he will & with whō he will: but in the court they eat late, the meat euil dreſſed and colde, and with out ſauor, and that whiche is worſt of al, for the moſt parte, he muſt eate with his enemies, where as the good felowes of the village liueth at their pleaſures and without ſuſpicion, keping their thre good faſhiōs that belongeth to good repaſt, that is, firſt he erneth his meat next that he eateth his meate merely, & thirdly he eateth with good company.

Another commoditie is that the huſbandman of the village hath how to occupy themſelfes and howe to be mery, whiche the courtier, nor the citezen hath not, thathath enemies enough to feare, and fewe frendes to company withall. O recreacion pleaſaunt of the village, to fiſhe with nettes, and with hokes, to catche birdes wt lyme, to hunte with dogges, to catche Conies with ferrettes, & hayes, to ſhote in the croſbowe and the hacbut at ſtokdoues, at Mallardes & at partryges: and ſe folkes labor in ye vynes, raiſe diches, amende hedgees, to ieſt with ye aūcient laborers, All theſe pleaſures haue they of the villages, whereas the courtiers and citezens deſire it & cānot haue it.

The .vii. Chapiter. ¶That commonly the inhabitauntes of the villages be more happy then courtiers.

ANother commoditie of the village is, that thei do fele ye trauailes leſſe on the workyng day, & reioyce merely on the holy day: where the courtier continually vexed with weightie and troubleous affaires, neuer knoweth when it is holy day. O village, it is not ſo in the, wheras on the feaſtful daye the clerke ceaſeth not to tolle the bell, to make clene the churche, to make redy ye alters, the people honeſtly apparelled the feaſtes commaunded to be obſerued, the curate preacheth ye goſpel, & after diner they make mery with a thouſande honeſt paſtymes. In the great tounes the holydaies are knowē when the wyfes goe gaye, when they ſlepe long in the mornyng, whē thei play after diner: and generally when they conſume the day involupteouſnes and vanities.

Another commoditie is this, that where the courtiers vſe to eate fleſhe and corrupt veniſon & wildefoule that is long kept, they of the village haue their meate freſhe and freſhe, tender and holſome, & as one may ſay, in good ſeaſō: that is, houſdoues, Partrige, pullettes, ſtockdoues, wodcockes, Feſauntes, fatte Capons, Conyes, Hares, and innumerable victayl of al ſortes. And ouer and beſydes this, to their great aduauntage they haue ſhepe that beareth woll to clothe them, good mutton to eate, dong to make fatte their ground, and Kyddes and Goates alſo, with Oxen to labor in the plough, and kyne to milke and make butter & cheſe: and hogges to make bacon of, Coltes for to noriſhe & horſes for to ſerue them and for to ſell when nede requireth. And another priuelege of the village is this, that the good ſhall be honoured for a good man, and the vnthriftie perſon knowen as he is, whiche is not ſo in the court, for ther is nomā praiſed for that he deſerueth to be praiſed, but becauſe he hath auctoritie and riches.

O how muche is the wiſe mā honored in the village for his wyſedome and good counſail? how many tymes is he thākeo and how many preſentes hath he? If parcaſe one of his neighbors haue any goodfruit in his garden, a good melon, a good pear, or a good muſcadel grape gladly they wyll preſent him therewith, as to him that hath deſerued it.

Another preuilege of the village is this, that euery mā may marry his daughters to his equalles and neighbours, that thereby dayly he may receiue bothe pleaſure and ſeruice, the whiche the courtiers cannot do that marry their doughters ſo farre frō theim, that for ye moſt part they lament theim or they ſee theim. O happy inhabitor in ye village that fyndes at his gate huſbandes for his doughters, and wiues for his ſonnes. He maryeth theim nigh to him that he may eaſly ſee his ſōnes in lawe, his litle nephues & his poſteritie: he is beloued of thē, ſuccoured in his affaires, ſerued & noriſhed in his ſickenes, and great cōforte to him in his age.

Another commoditie is, that they are not to muche carefull nor yet ireful or enuious: whiche commoditie they of ye court and the citezens litle taſteth or emoyeth: for the courtier many times lacketh money, when his great affaires ſhuld be brought to paſſe. I ſay therfore o happy mā of ye village, that nedes not to go at ten of the clocke to the palice to beg counſel, to ſpeake fayre to ye vſſher, to waite vpō the preſident & make flectamus ienua to the lawyer, and flatter the kyng and his counſel, & the Magiſtrate: but hath in ſtede of theſe Idolatries for a happy ſolace, the benefites of nature and ye paſtimes therof, to heare the ſhepe blete, the Bulles to bray, the Horſe to neſe, the Nityngales to ſyng, ye Thruſhes to warble, the Lynets to mynſe their ſonges, dogges to runne, Lambes to leape, Kyddes to gambolde, & ſee the Pekockes ſet vp their tailes like a whele, Hēnesto kecle, kockes to crow, & a thouſand kynde of beaſtes and birdes play and ſporte.

Another commoditie is, that in the village one may be there more vertuous & leſſe vicious then in the court or in the great citiees, and ye reaſon is, for that in great companyes we ſhall cōmenly fynde a M. that kepe men from good doyng & x. M. that will moue vs to do euill. And in the village euery man ſanctifyeth the Sabboth day, kepeth the feaſtes, heareth the ſermones, and by this meanes with great labor worketh his ſoule health aſſiſted by grace.

Wherfore the village is to be praiſed for that ye occaſions of euil, and of our deſtruccion are not ſo plentifull and practiſed there, as they are in the court & in good tounes, no cokes houſes to make them licorous: nor there are no great eſtates wher by enuy ſhuld ariſe: there is no choppyng nor chaungyng by vſury: whores to quarell and fight for, nor courtiers to torney in armure, nor wanton and lewde places to corrupt youth withall: nor Iuſtices to feare them, ye (and that beſt of all is) no couetuouſnes whiche ſhuld ſwalow vp and deuoure them.

Another preuilege there is, that there one may well gather ſome good, and ſpende muche leſſe then in the court. For euery man knowes well what exceſſiue expēces are accuſtomed to be waſted in the court, & ſpecially in theſe dayes, that the great apparellyng of bākettes is ſuche that they be well worthy to be reformed. O peaceable peyſaūtes which nedes not the tapettes of Flaunders, linnyng clothe of Holland, ſiluer plate, garmentes imbrodered, Parcement lace purfilde, nor yet cariage, Mulettes, varlettes to conduct them, nor other ſuperfluous attyre: but contrary in ſtede of that, is contented wt a lytle houſhold well ruled, with a groſſe table and a fewe plaine ſtoles to eate his meate vpon, with diſhes of Peuter & a mattres for to ſlepe on, two gounes, one for ſōmer, another for wynter, one geldyng in the ſtable, one varlet, one chamberer to do him ſeruice: As muche happy is a gentleman and as muche honored with his lytle companye in his houſe in the village, as is a riche lord in the court with his great pride, and ruflyng traine.

The .viii. Chapiter ¶That in princes courtes the cuſtome and vſe is to ſpeake of God and liue after the worlde.

IN the Court, euen as there is no rigorous iuſtice, no father that chaſtiſeth his ſoonne, no frende that correcteth one the other, none that loueth his neighbor, no biſhop nor curate that gouerneth well his ſhepe nor teacheth them after the goſpel: So he that is by nature good, hath great libertie to be naught. In the court if one wilbe an adulterer, he ſhall haue felowes. It he wilbe a quareller, he ſhal haue helpe, & that with ſuche as will drawe their ſwordes. If he be diſpoſed to banquetyng, euery where he ſhall fynde gluttons, If he will manifeſtly & ſhamefully lye, he ſhall fynde companions ready that will approue his lies: If he wil ſteale, he ſhal fynde theim that will inſtructe him many wayes therto: If he will play, there is ſo many cardes and ſo many diſe, that it is ſhame to ſee it: If one will be falſely forſworne, he ſhal fynde theim that will geue money for forſwearyng: Fynally, if he wil vtterly geue himſelf to do euil, in the court he ſhall ſee perfecte examples. To the court reſorteth menne of diuers nacions, ſome for buſines, ſome to plede or to ſerue or to ſhewe theim ſelues, whiche perſons to bring themſelues acquainted are forced to folowe the ſeruauntes of ſuche as be in auctoritie, to flatter them, & ſpeake fayre to thē: and to folowe the companies & felowſhip of the taberers, the Pypers, the Muſycians, the flatterers and mery ieſters, and at ye ende become God knowes poore and nedy gentlemen, in ſuche wiſe that by very neceſſitie thei be cōpelled to demaūde rewardes, newyeres giftes and new apparell. And yet to this euil felowes, they whiche geue vnto theim any good thyng, geue it rather to get themſelfes a name to be called ful of magnificence then for any charitie at all.

In the Court, fortune is inconſtant, in that ſhe promiſeth, and yet more in that which ſhe geueth, for at one inſtant, wher one ryſeth, another falleth, one is borne, another dyeth: he is auaunced that is vnknowen, & the faythful ſeruaūt forgotten, he that will abyde is not recciued, but he that will runne away is taken in: fooles are beleued and wiſemen belyed, opinions be folowed and reaſon let paſſe. With theſe thinges and other ſemblable thynges that we aſſay and ſe in courtes of princes, euery manne may bee aſſured that fortune will knocke at his doore, though for the moſte parte the Courtiers find ſoner their graue then any good fortune, & ſpecially ſuche that vnder colour to be diſcended of a good houſe, go to the court to bragge, and yet neuertheleſſe are ſo foliſhe and ignoraunt, that it may be ſayd they are more mete for the cart then for the ſpere, ſo that they ſerue in concluſion to be a daliance to the mockers & ieſters. And one great miſchiefe is in the court, that there is euer hatred amonges the princes, enuye among familiars, contencion among officers and with their felowes. And among theſe there neuer lacketh medlers & buſye bodyes, whiche profite more thereby, then ſome doctor of diuinitie doeth by prechyng. In the court all is ſuffered, all is diſſembled withall, all is inconſtant, and all ſortes deſyre there to liue: and foraſmuche as al ſuche deſire there to liue, it is impoſſible but there muſt be lyers, players, ſlaunderers, and a great nomber of naughtie perſons.

In the court the euil foloweth the euil: The brauler fyndes one to braule withall: The adulterer one that he may ſinne withall: The thefe a companion & receiuer: The ſophiſter a babler: & all rekened together, one ready to deceiue another.

In ye court euery mā praiſeth & commendeth himſelfe of holy purpoſes and noble thoughtes. One ſayeth he will withdrawe himſelf from the court. And another ſayeth he wil forget his ſuites. Another ſayeth he will quenche enemitie. And when they haue all ſayd, all is but wordes, for the heart thinketh of nothyng els but of the world. None knoweth there the one the other: The men of armes go without harnys: The prelates without their rotchettes: The prieſt without his porteaus: The doughter without her mother: The wife without her huſband: The clerke without his bokes: The thefe without a ſpye: The glutton from table to table. The vacabonde frō place to place, and ye baude from doore to doore, and from harlot to harlot. In the court there be biſhoppes to cōfirme curates, to baptiſe & chaunge names: For he that is glorious gay, thei name him honorable, he that ſpendes all, full of magnificence, the cowarde wiſe, the valiaunt ouerhardye, the foole ioyous, the wyſe an hypocrite, the malicious ſubtle, the ſcoffer eloquent, the adulterer Amorous, the coueteous meſurable, and he that talketh litle, a foole and an ignoraunt perſon.

The .ix. Chapiter. ¶In the court fewe amende, but many waxe worſe.

IN the court it profites litle, menne to be wiſe, onleſſe they be fortunate, foraſmuche as good ſeruice is ſone forgotten: frendes ſone faileth and enemies augment, the nobilitie doeth forget it ſelfe, ſcience is forgotten, humilitie diſpiſed, trueth cloked & hid, and good coūſell refuſed. The beſte mine and the richeſt Alcumet that the Courtier may haue, is to haue wynde at will to ſayle with, that is, to be in fauorwith them that be fauoured, till fortune laugh vpon him: for the condicions and faſhions of entretainment chaungeth dayly and hourely. To proue this true, Plato neades not to ſpeake, nor Cicero to ſweare, foraſmuche as afore our eyes we ſee the foole become wyſe, the meke, become proude, the ſobre a glutton, the pacient a brauler, and the deuout an euil chriſtian man.

In the court it is a great buſynes and trauaile for to fynde vertue, and greater daungier & peril to kepe it. Is not humilitie loſt among theim that be in honor, or paciēce among wrōg doers, or abſtinence among gluttons, or chaſtitie amonges women, or reſt amonges buſynes, or charitie amonges euil willers, or peace amōges ſedicious, or ſilence amongeſt bablers, or good witte whereis ſo muche folly? In the court no man is content, euery man cō plaineth either becauſe ye kyng geueth him nought, or becauſe the prince healpeth him not, or that one or other is euer betwixt him and home: He complaines of the porter he wil not let him in: of the treaſurer that he payeth him not: of his crediture whiche taketh away his goodes: or of one or other that that doeth him wrong in the court. If one rede a letter of pleaſure, he ſhal reade an hundreth of diſpleaſure. The wife ſhall write to her huſband and praye him for to come home, yt he may marry his doughters beyng of age, or yt his children be diſobedient, that his frendes hath forſaken him, and that by ingratitude thei render euil for good, and werines doth aſſayle her on al ſides, that her tenaū tes cal her to the lawe, that his goodes be ſpent? ſurely he ſhal heare ſuche newes, ſo that for two grotes that he geueth to the bearer of ye letters, he wold gladly haue geuē more to haue hard no ſuche newes

In the court a manne doeth many thinges by neceſſitie, that to dye for it he would not do in his houſe: he dynes and ſuppes with his enemies, he ſpeakes with him that he neuer knewe nor pleaſeth him not, defendes him that helpes him not, foloweth him that honoureth not him, lendes to him that payeth him not, diſſembles with him that doeth him iniury, and truſtes to him that beguiles him. O vnhappy & ſorowfull courtier if by chaunce he growe to be a poore man, no man will ſuccour him, and if he fall ſicke no man viſites him, and if he dye he is incōtinent forgotten: if he be vertuous no man commendes him, and if he be out of credite no man regardes him. In the court there is nothyng more rare nor more deare to recouer then vertue, nor more eſy to fynde then the aboundaūce of thre maner of people. That is of tale bringers, of flatterers and of lyars. The lyers deceiueth ye princes. The flatterers the riche menne. The tale bringers, thoſe that be in fauour. The women, deceiueth the mē. The coueteouſnes, ye olde men. The pompe the prelates. The auaricious, the prieſtes. The libertie ye religious, ambicion, the preſumptuous, ye wiſe cōfidēce in men, & al they ioyned together be deceiued by fortune. In the court men employe the tyme ſo euil that from the tyme the courtier doeth ariſe, tyl he go to bed, he occupieth him ſelf aboute nothing but in aſkyng of newes, iettyng aboute the ſtretes, write letters, ſpeake of the warres, entertein them that be in fauor, counſell with baudes, make as he were in loue and leſe alwayes the tyme. In the court more then in any other place the thinges are ſlow. For one riſes late, and worſt of all amendes his life late. All thynges there is variable and chaungeable and inconſtaunt. The eſtates chaunge, The litle aſſende, the great fall. The widowes there be marde: The maried be defamed: The maydens be ſhamed: The good ſpirites be dulled: The valiaunt becommes cowardes: The prelates waxe worſe & worſe: The ſciēces are forgotten: The yōg leeſe their tyme: The olde vndone: This is ye courtiers life. He is not worthy to be a courtier onleſſe he be in debte and oweth to the draper for clothe, to the Merſer for ſilke, to the taylor for the makyng of his apparell, to the goldſmyth for iewels for my lorde ye courtiers lady, to the Iudges for the diſputyng of proceſſes, to the ſeruauntes for wages, to their hoſtes for their ſpence. There is to muche euill counſail euen ſuche as is more then the halfe way ledyng to damnacion.

The .x. Chapiter. ¶That a man cannot liue in the court, without to trouble him ſelfe or ſome other.

A Courtier doeth many thinges, more for to ſay, I do as other men do, then for any neede he hath ſo to do. He bankettes with euery man becauſe he will not be called an hypocrite, Playes becauſe he would not be named a nigard, & companyes with many, becauſe he wil not be named a ſolitarymā and geues to raſcall & naughtie perſons becauſe he would not be euil ſayd of them. A mā in ye court is full of penſiuenes and paſſions: For it is trueth that it is appropried to theim of nature that folowes ye court, to be inceſſantly tormented. He muſte praiſe his felowes, diſpraiſe ſtraungers, & loke vnto therin that do well, and blame them that do euil, and ſpend at large with his felowes, and againſt ye enemeys ſpare not his owne proper life: And all this muſt he do becauſe he will not be diſpraiſed. In the court cō monly one profeſſeth to wayte of one maiſter, but for all that he muſt ſerue at the taile of dyuers others lordes. O broken heart of the poore courtier that muſt nedes ſerue ſuche as knoweth him not, and make reuerence to theim that deſerue not to haue it, and muſt ſaye to my maiſter the officer an hundreth tymes a day, ſir and if it pleaſe you. And he ſhall anſwere when I am at leyſer? tary a whyle at the doore. And yet we muſt call him maiſter that deſerues it no more then the hāg man that ſtrangles a man with a halter. O what pitie is it to ſe a poore ſuiter in his nedy buſynes folowe the kyng from toune to toune euil noriſhed & worſe lodged? The kyng hath buſynes, the counſeler is defe, the Almoner hath no hande, & he that thou knoweſt hath no eyes: And without money and extreme pain, the fiue wittes of nature be laine.

In the court, albeit that one hath no enemies whiche is ſeldome ſeene, yet is it trueth that many tymes his owne frendes putte him out of quiet, foraſmuche as if the courtier will take reſt in his lodgyng, they grunt at him becauſe he wyll not go ſee his frendes and prouoke him to go folowe ye princes in the court, ſaiyng, that the raſcall and the varlettes mocke at him, that he goeth not thether and ſhewe himſelfe free and liberal: and when he is ariued at the court, whiche is a naturall enemye to reſt, and a deſire of nouelles, then muſt he chaunge, as doeth the Egipcian, whiche euery day ſeketh a newe countrey, a new lodging, newe apparell and conuerſacions, buſynes and faſhions of menne. Lo my frende and the reader of this: This is the life of the courtier as it is here diſcribed: and alſo of him that liueth in the village the whiche ſayd life of the peyſauntes ſhal be muche praiſed of many, and choſen of a fewe, becauſe that euery man readeth bookes enough & the more he readeth ye leſſe he chaungeth of his euil cuſtomes. And to cal to reaſon why it is ſo, it foloweth that the court of prīces is good but for two maner of menne, for theim that be in fauor, & for the yong whiche be yet of a weake iudgement. And thoſe that be in fauor, & doeth waite dayly, ſe thē ſelfes ſo riche, ſo feared, and ſo wel accompanied that thei fele not the paine of the court. And the pleaſure they gette thereby makes them for cōcluſion forget themſelues, yet notwithſtā dyng for all this, it is impoſſible but that their braines muſt be troubled, becauſe they be to much occupied, for their houſes are to ful of people, their eares full of lyes, their toungues to much troubled wt anſwering of euery mā, their heartes to much preſſed to ayde and helpe them that they would helpe, & other. And finally ye greater in auctoritie & credite they be, ye ſhal ſe them ye more penſiue & the more aſtonyed, and for the moſt part ſooner complaine then reioyce: but cōmaunde who cōmaunde will, haue credite who will, the truth is, none can take pleaſure of his goodes, wtout honeſt reſt Beſide this thoſe which be ſayd to be in fauor, are euer in feare to be put doune frō their auctoritie: And by that meanes are in cōtinual drede and torment, the whiche is an enemy mortal to quiet and reſt. And the yong in like caſe (as I haue ſayd) yt be without iudgement & blynded in vices, do not knowe nor ſee the incōmodities of ye court, nor care, neither for fauor nor honor, but boūden & drounde in volupteouſnes and vices, paſſe the better parte of their daies in the ſchoole that is nothing worth, vnder the maiſter of pardicion.

The .xi. Chapiter. ¶That in the court thoſe that be graue are praiſed and well eſtemed, and the other that doeth the contrary not regarded.

THe courtier ſhuld not aquaint himſelf with vaine and ydle perſons, that he be not reputed to be ſuche as he companieth withall. For it had not been enough for him to ſaye he muſt nedes do there asother do and diſſemble as other diſſembles. Neither behoueth it him not to cloke his naughtie doyng, in goyng ſecretely to ſuche as be naught, for why? the wittes of the courtiers are ſo fine, that they knowe not onely what one ſayeth but what he thinketh. There is neither litle nor great but menne ſpye him whether he goeth, frō whence he cōmeth, & where he abideth, with whom he talketh, in whō he truſteth, and what he wil do, ſo wel, that ye curtens may hide a perſon, but to hide ye vices of the courters is impoſſible. The courtier alſo ought not to brag and crake that thynges ſhalbe as he would, he may not preſume to ſpeake to the kyng and require audience as he himſelf luſt: for he yt foloweth the court muſte be as one that hath no mouth to ſpeake, nor hādes to be auenged withal, beyng well aſſured that there is no more loue in the court, then are clothes vpon a bare horſe. For he that is in the court, and is not armed wt pacience, it had been muche better for him not to haue come out of his countrey, for beyng a quareller & ſedicious felow, in ye court he ſhalbe hated, and paraduēture baniſhed frō thēce, & then his returning ſhalbe to his vtter ſhame.

Malice & diſpleaſures take often an end in the village, but in ye court is alwayes an ouerplus of theim. What is the cauſe? Fortune I ſay of her, whiche hath the rule ouer them who counteth for a gooddeſſe, whiche is more feared of a foliſhe opinion, then for any power ſhe hath ouer men.

The courtier alſo ought not to condiſcende to that whiche his ſēſualitie requireth, but to that whiche reaſon doeth perſuade him vnto, foraſmuche as ye one demaundes more then nedes, & the other contentes him wt leſſe then he hath. Foraſmuche then as in the court, ther is ſo many tables to glutton on, ſo many newe founde playes to play at, ſo many quarelles to fight for, ſo many matters to pleade, there is no cauſe to meruaile if the ſage be cheriſhed, and the diſſolute perſon blamed. The good mā within ye court, is as a nutte within the ſhale, & mary within ye bone, & a perle within the cokle, and a roſe among the thornes. I do not ſay reder, for the qualitie and quātitie of the malice of the court, that all be vicious that be ther: God forbid that it ſo ſhuld be, but whē I call to remembraunce we be all mortall men, I thynke it in maner impoſſible to ariue ſafe into the porte, among ſo many Syllas and Caribdes. Ye will ſay that the wily and the ſubtle perſon there waxeth riche, and that the great ſūmes of money be there: I cōfeſſe it, & I would ſay your ſaiyng ſhuld be good if they yt were of the beſt knowlege & the moſt verteous nomber wer auaunced for their prudence, as the other be by hazard and chaunce or by theft, for the reward of vertue, is not like to the rewarde of fortune.

Item the courtier ought not to geue preſētes, nor lightly take, for why? for to geue him that deſerues it not, there lackes wyſedome. And to receiue of him that one ought not, is a thyng but vile.

Who that will exerciſe liberalitie, ought to conſidre what he geueth, and to whō he geueth: for it ſhuld be but folly to geue that whiche one may not, & that whiche he himſelfe nedes. And one ought to conſidre the tyme and the end and the ſeaſon, and wherfore he geueth. And if the courtier geue ſomethyng ouer liberalitie & without iuſt cauſe of recompenſe of him whiche is out of credite and in the tyme that he beginneth to declyne.

Is not then the gifte euil imployed? is it not to be lamēted that one geues ſoner to ye flatterer to tel ſome feined or liyng tales, or to a ieſter to make thē laugh, or to a common lyer to make them talke, or to a pleaſaunt felow to inuent a lye, rather then to a truſtie ſeruaunt that hath all ye daies of his life deſerued to haue thāke for his good ſeruice? Yet for all this, myne entencion is not to perſuade great mē that they ſhuld not geue to all men: but I ſay the true ſeruaūtes ought to be preferred, becauſe it is more meter that their ſeruice ſhould be rewarded, then the preſentes of ſtraungers conſidered.

When a mā geueth to ſtraungers, the ſeruauntes ſeyng the ſame drawe backe: ye may be aſſured that they not only murmure at that whiche is geuen, but alſo accuſe him of his vngentle dede, and become a mortal enemy to him that the thing is geuen vnto. The giftes makes a man muche ſubiecte that receiueth thē, for aſſone as any man doeth take of another an horſe or a goune, or often ſitte with him at his table, he bindes himſelfe therby to beare him fauour, to defende his quarel, to kepe him company, to take his parte, and to loue that that he loueth. And reaſon wil, that ſithens one feleth profite of another that he be not vnkynde, howbeit let a manne beware to bind himſelf ſo muche vnder ye wil of other men, that he therby forgetteth his owne honeſtie. Many yong childrē diſcended of an honeſt houſe go to ye court & take with them a good parte of their goodes and conſume theſame plaiyng, eatyng, and drinkyng, and vſyng baudry & adultery vnder colour of learnyng their behauior: and reſorte to the great mennes houſes, to no other intent, but to be much made of of thē wher they take a great repaſt, and afterward ſo play the yong wanton fooles, that they ſpende rent, honor and all. And when the purſe is flat, their office is to go all the day in the ſtretes to the churches and to the palaice to aſke newes & tidynges, only to pype out lyes and fables at the lordes boordes, & all for to go ſcot fre. And ther is a ſort of yong men in the court, yea I may ſay to you, of thoſe yt haue beardes, that neither haue maſter nor entertainers, that as ſoone as a ſtraunger commeth to the court, ſtraight waies thei boorde him, ſaiyng that they wyll ſhewe him the faſhions & maners of the court, the pleaſures of the palaices, the maner how to kepe him from deceiptfull felowes, and to entertaine yong gentlewomen. And thus ye newecome courtier that is yet a foole, in the meane ſeaſon ſhalbe hādled in ſuche wiſe that now goeth a goune, now a coate, another tyme a horſe, & ſometyme purſe and all. And there is another ſorte of men in the court that buſieth thēſelfes with ſo great auctoritie & with ſo litle wit, that after they haue vſed ye company of ſome great lorde, thei wil ſend him a lettre by their page, ſaiyng they be poore gentlemen, kynſfolke to ſome great men, and that they be there ſuyng for ſome office, and that they haue a payment in hand, wherfore they require him to lende him a certain ſum of money: And yet are they in no ſuche neceſſitie, but onely to get ſomewhat, either to buye a gay coate, or a horſe, or to kepe a whore.

There is another ſort of falſe & beggerly courtiers, the which after they be ones vſed to the court, they go from churche to churche to aſke for Gods ſake, ſaiyng they be poore ſuiters & that thei loue better to begge then to robbe, commending thē ſelfe to the prieſtes to begge for them on the poore pariſheners when they preache, & ſo take againſt reaſon the good yt poore men ſhould haue.

There is another ſorte of haunters in the court, that goe from one houſe to another of ye great eſtates and lordes, counterfaityng to be diligent ſeruauntes, ſlatteryng ye ſteward, the butler, and the cooke, & liue of that whiche is lefte of the diners, and goe their waies with their pockettes and their ſleues full of meate for ſo ſuppe with all. And ther is another maner of ſorte that go two and two & thre and thre together in a mornyng to ſpye and ſee if there be any thyng euil kepte, and with that to looke and to prye if a ſworde or a Spaniſhe cloke, or a purſe be fallen aſide, if ther be, thei ſyng in a mery note this is pro nobis. Other there be y for to cōduict & defend a whore when ye court remoues (as one may ſay more then ruffians) they liue of the gaine of yt miſerable womā. Another hath falſdiſe, falſe marked cardes for to deceiue the innocentes, wynne their money, & lccſe their owne ſoules. And ther lackes not in ye court olde women & wrinckled trottes yt after their harueſt is paſt, cloke the ſynnes of other, and beguile thoſe that be chaſt and vndermine ſuch as be maried, hurt their neigbours, ſell maydens to whoredome for lucre, and do noriſhe them therefore, wherof folowes that theſe olde whores ſometyme ſell wē ches better chepe then fiſhers do lamperyes. O beholde the company of the court, the holynes, the religiō, the brotherhed, and finally the foule diſorder of theſame. And I ſay for my parte, go to the conrt who will and there abyde, and triumphe who will: as for my ſelfe I do remembre I am a chriſten mā, and that I muſt accompt for ye tyme I haue loſt, & therfore I had muche rather to labor and dygge & delue out of the court and be ſaued, then to be nighe the kyng, my conſcience not cleane nor pure.

The .xii. Chapiter. ¶That in the court of princes all ſay we will do it, but none do it.

BY as the great Philoſoper of great renoume amōges the Grecians, ſaid vpō a tyme to the great Alexander Quiliber in ſuo negotio, hebetior eſt quam in alieno, meanyng, that cōmonly euery man is more blinded in his owne affayres then in another mannes. And he ſo ſayd by very good reaſon, for yt ther be menne, whiche for to geue a wiſe deliberate and ſage counſel for to remedy a ſodain miſchiefe, haue excellēt wittes, ſo yt it be in another mannes matter. But in their own affaires they haue neither witte to gouerne their owne houſes, nor ſtable mind to couer their own miſerye. Cayus Iulius Caeſar, Octauus Auguſtus, Marcus Antonius, Septimius Seuerus, Marcus Aurelius, and other in great nombre, that were eſtemed in their priuy buſynes, that is to ſay, in the rulyng of the cōmon wealth, wonders wittie: but we reade that they were ſo negligent in gouernyng their owne houſholdes, their wiues & their family, that it is muche to their ſhame and reproche: therfore ſuche be ſene often to be good to rule the common welth, that be nothyng worth to gouerne their owne, and had nede (if it might be honeſtly ſayd) to haue a ruler to rule them.

Plutarch reporteth that the noble & valiāt capitain Niſeas neuer loſt battell, but onely in truſtyng to muche to his owne witte & iudgement. And if we beleue Hiarcas ye Philoſopher, it is more hurtfull to a manne to ſtand in his owne conceipt, then to phanſye a woman: for in louyng a woman, a manne hurteth but himſelfe: but in ſtickyng to muche to his owne phantaſy, it may redound to ye hurt of a whole cōmon weale. All this that is ſayd, ſhalbe to admoniſh them that tary in the court, to be cōuerſant with the graue and ſage perſons, & with ſuche as be learned, and ſuche as haue good experiēce: For ye graue, learnes vertue: Scilēce is a certaine guide to a man: & experience, is the conſūmacion of all. For although the courtier beyng young, be neuer ſo ſage, graue, riche or in fauor, he ſhall nede a father to counſail him, a brother to perſuade him, a guyde to teache him the way, and a maiſter to inſtruct him, and a corrector to puniſh him: becauſe the miſchiefes, craftes, & wickednes doeth ſo abounde in the court that it is impoſſible that a man alone may defende him from all, and vtterly reſiſt theim. For in the court there is none ſo high awaye to deſtruccion as for a man to be gouerned onely by himſelfe, & haue his owne ſwinge.

The court is a perpetuall dreame, a botomeleſſe whorlepole, an inchaunted phantaſy, and a maſe: when he is in, he cannot get out till he be morfounded. One of the beſt remedyes that the courtier may get againſt ſo many euils, is to haue a faythfull frende that flatters him nothyng, but that rather will correct and rebuke him if he goe home late, if he walke by night, if he be a falſe player or whorehunter. But where ſhall we fynde ſuche a frende? For we ſe the frendſhip in the court is commonly vſed among yong courtiers in this ſort, that ſo ſone as ii. or .iii. are met together, ſtrayt fall they to quarellyng, fightyng, ryoting, ſo that there is rather occaſion geuen to do euil, then good coū ſail to refraine. Therfore he that haunteth the court, it wer mete that he had ſome frende to whom without feare he might common of his buſynes, & that the multitude be alſo to him common frendes, but aboue al one perfite frende.

I would alſo he ſhould kepe himſelfe from the conuerſacion of ſedicious perſons, from collericke perſons & vacabondes, for the raſcall ſorte will ſlaunder and ſay, the kyng payeth naught that thoſe be in fauour haue all the ſwynge, that the officers are proude, that mens ſeruice is euil recompenſed, & the good vnknowen: With theſe wordes & ſuche other like the pore courtiers forgettes to ſerue & begynne to murmure.

Alſo the good chriſtian man ought not to ceaſſe to amende his life, for yt he hopeth to liue long: although thoſe yt be olde there occupy thēſelfes rather in newe paſtance, then to correcte their olde ſynnes. Ye ſhal fynde theim that promiſe euery day for to amende thēſelfes in their age, & yet neuertheles dye there worſe then deuils: the cauſe is that they all ſay we wil do and yet neuer do. There be ſome old dotyng fooles, whiche ſhal bragge of the kinges & princes whiche they haue ſerued, of the chaūgyng of offices yt thei haue ſeen, and of the warres paſſed, and of the great mutabilitie & chaunge of fortune. And yet notwithſtandyng all that they haue ſeen and endured, they be as gredy of gaine, and delight in yong and fooliſhe paſtymes as though thei wer newe to begyn to liue. Alas miſerable men that in perpetual trauail, and continuall ſorowe, and infinite trouble haue paſſed their liues, euen frō their fyrſt tyme of knowlege (whiche is, xv. yeres) to the time of manhod, and then frō that tyme to their dotyng age, & all to haue gained riches and increace in renoune: not in all this tyme once remembre that in the ſteade of a true and perfite reſt, they prepare for theim ſelues a hell both for body and ſoule. The courtier alſo ought not lightly to complaine of aduerſities whiche many tymes come to him, thinking that oftentymes (though it be our owne faulte) we do cōplaine of thinges whiche ſhould complaine of vs, if they had a toungue.

What tyme a man ſeeth him ſelf baſe and is litle eſtemed, or poore & forgotten of the riche, and deceiued of that he looked ſurely to haue, incontinent he curſes his fortune and lamentes his euil: In ye meane while it is not fortune that hath thus ſerued him, but him ſelfe that hath ſerched it and founde it. Suche a manne thinkes to be quickely riche, honored & eſtemed, yt ſhortely after ſeeth him ſelfe poore, ouerthrowen, diſpiſed, and blamed of all men, and cannot reuenge himſelfe, but onely ſay, he is vnfortunate & vnhappy to the worlde, & that it is miſhap: whiche is not ſo, but his owne folly that makes him to leaue the ſuretie of his houſe and prepareth himſelf to the hazard of fortune, and therfore hath no cauſe to complain but of himſelf whiche choſe the waye to it. The beſt is, after that a man purpoſeth himſelfe to continue in the court, yt then paciently he awayte and tarye the tyme of auauncement or auaūtage that he looketh for: or els if he cannot paciently diſſē ble with the tyme, let him not remaine there, for contentacion conſiſteth not in the place, but in the ambicious heart, & troubled mynde. And take this for a trueth, ye that be courtiers that if .ii. or .iii. thinges ſuccede to your purpoſe proſperouſſy, there ſhall come a hundreth ouerthwarte the ſhynnes, either to you or to your frendes. For notwithſtandyng that ye courtiers doynges & deſyres come to good paſſe, there ſhalbe thinges for his frend or felow that goeth all awrye, wherby often tymes he lamtēes ye hurt of his frende, & that whiche is denied him more then the pleaſure he hath of his owne happe: wherfore there is alwayes lacke or faute of contentacion. Wyll ye any more? the beyng in court or out of the court, ye ſhal here no nother matter, then, what newes at the court? what doeth the kyng? where is he? where is the counſail? and where lyeth the officers of ye houſhold? and this is moſt true, yt they which deſyre to here ſuche newes, are as deſirous to ſee newes: And by this meanes the poore wene to make theimſelues riche, the riche the more to commaunde, and the lordes ye more to rule. O what a pleaſure is it for thē to be in the court hopyng that the kyng may knowe thē, that thoſe that be fauor may dye, or that fortune may chaunge, and that they come forwarde? And it foloweth, that in tariyng the tyme, the tyme deceiueth them, & then death taketh theim vnware.

The .xiii. Chapiter. ¶That there is a ſmal nombre of them that be good in the Court and a great nombre of good in the cōmon wealth.

PLutarch in ye boke intitled De exilio telleth of ye great Kyng Ptolome that hauyng on a daye at ſupper with him ſeuen Ambaſſadours of diuers prouinces, moued a queſtion to them, whiche of al their cōmon welthes gonerned them ſelues with beſt lawes and cuſtomes? The ſayd ambaſſadours, were Romayns, Carthaginiens, Ciciliens, Rhodiens, Atheniens, Lacedemoniens, & Cicioniens: among whō the queſtion was effectually debated afore the kyng, foraſmuche as euery one of thē beyng affeccionate to his countrey aleged the wiſeſt reaſon yt he could. The good king deſirous to knowe the trueth & the reſolucion of the queſtion commaunded that euery one of the Ambaſſadours ſhould tell of the beſte lawes or cuſtomes that were in their cōmon welth thre pointes, and that therby it might eſely be ſene whiche was better ruled and deſerued more praiſe. Then the ambaſſadour of the Romaynes beganne and ſayd, In Rome the temples be honored, ye gouernours obeyed and the euil chaſtiſed. The ambaſſadour of Carthage ſayd in Carthage the noble men neuer ceaſe to prepare to the warre, the poore people to traueil, and the Philoſophers to teache.

The ambaſſadour of the Ciciliens ſayd, In Cicill is true iuſtice executed, trouth is beloued, and equalitie praiſed. The Ambaſſadour of the Rhodiens ſayd, In Rhodes the olde men are honeſt, the yong men ſhamfaſt, and the women meke and gentle. The Ambaſſadour of the Atheniens ſayd, the Athenieus do not conſent that ye riche ſhould be parciall, nor ye meane people idle, nor the gouernours without learnyng. The ambaſſadour of the Lacedemoniens ſayd, in Lacedemony enuy raines not becauſe al are equal nor coueteouſnes becauſe all is cōmon, nor idlenes becauſe all men traueil. The Ambaſſadour of Cicioniens ſayd, in Cicion they receiue no ſtraūgers inuētors of newes, nor Phiſious that kyl the whole, nor aduocates that makes the proceſſes immortall.

When kyng Ptolome and his companye had heard theſe ſo good and holy obſeruaūces, he praiſed greatly the inſtitucion of euery of theim, ſaiyng, that he could not iudge whiche was the beſt. This hiſtorie is well worthy to be noted, and better to be folowed: And I beleue if in our dayes ſo many ambaſſadours ſhuld mete, diſputing as theſe did of their cō mon welthes, thei ſhould finde mo thynges to blame & ſpeake euil of (and that without compariſon) then to praiſe & commende. In tymes paſſed the kynges houſes were ſo well reformed, the kynges themſelfes ſo wiſe, and the gouernours ſo moderate, that litle offēces wer chaſtiſed, and once to thinke of great offences forbidden: to the entent that the chaſticement ſhould be terrour to the euil, & the prohibicion a plaine aduice vnto the good: It is not ſo in our common welthes, where is done ſo muche euil, and committed ſo many bitter offēces & vnhappynes, that thoſe whiche the auncientes did chaſtice for deadly ſinnes by death, we diſſemble theim to be but veniall: the truans and wantons be ſo entertained as though we lacked theim: and not as mete to be chaſed and dryuen away.

My lady the widow or my maſires that is maried, if they fall to leude and wanton liuyng, ye ſhal not fynde one that wil ſay madā or maſtres ye do nought: but rather ſixe hundreth that ſhall procure her diſhonor.

This is in our tyme, ſuche is our faſhion and maners which cauſeth euil: ſo that he is more to be praiſed whiche may be called good in our common welth, then any of the Conſuls of Rome, becauſe that in ye olde time it was almoſt a monſtrus thing to fynde one euil among a hundreth, & now it is a great chaunce to fynde one good amongeſt a hundreth.

The holy ſcripture praiſeth Abraham yt was iuſt in Calde, Loth that was iuſt in Sodom Danyel in Babylon, Toby in Niniuie, and Neemyas in Damaſco. And likewiſe may we among this Cathalog of holy men nomber ye good courtiers if there be any, but it cannot be foraſmuche as none goeth about to moue the courtiers to vertue, but that counſail them to perdicion.

There is in the court ſo many vacabondes, ſo many players, blaſphemers, & deceiuers that we may be abaſhed to ſee ſuche a multitude: but it were a noueltie to heare of the contrary, for why? the worlde hath nothing in hiſroſiers but thornes, and for frutes of trees, but leaues, for vynes but bryars, & in their garnerdes but ſtrawe, and in their treaſures, but Alcumyn. O golden worlde, O world deſired, O world paſſed: the difference betwixte you and vs is, that afore you litle and litle the worlde paſſeth, but afore vs it is quite paſſed. In the O worlde euery mā vndertaketh to inuent, to do, to begin and to make an ende of that he will: and that whiche is worſt of all, liueth as he will: but the ende is right doubtfull. There is litle to be truſted in the O worlde. And contrary wiſe litle to defende, litle to enioy, & very litle to kepe. There is many thynges to be deſired, many thynges to be amēded, & many thynges to be lamented. Our aunceters had the Iron world, but our worlde may wel be called the dirtie worlde, becauſe it kepeth vs continually in a filthy myer, and alwayes we be there in defiled and rayed.

The .xiiii. Chapiter Of many offaires in the court, and that there be better huſbandmen, then commonly is of courtiers.

THe Poet Homer hath written of ye trauels of Ʋlixes one of the princes of the Grekes: Quintus Curtius of Alexander and Darius: Moyſes of Ioſeph, And of them of Egipt: Samuel of Dauid & of Saul: Titus Liuius, of the Romaines: Thucidides of Iaſon, with ye Minotaure: and Saluſt of Iugurth & Cathelyne. I then willyng to folowe theſe good auctors, haue vndertaken to write the vnkynd trauailes of the court that the courtiers of our tyme haue which haue pacience enough for to ſuffre thē, and no wyſedome to auoyde them: then it is not without a cauſe if I do call the trauailes of the court vnkynde, for they be accuſtomed vnto it as the olde horſes are to the packeſadle and to the plough, ſyth that the courtiers themſelfes do ſuffer them ſo muche and haue no profite therof. Some men wil ſay that I am euil aduiſed becauſe I write ye courtiers haue not their eaſe, ſeyng that he yt may attaine to be in the courte is accompted to be fortunate. But he abuſeth him ſelfe, if he thinke that al ſuche as are out of the court be beaſtes & ignorant perſons, and he only wiſe: they rude & he delicate: he honored and they vile, they ſtāme ryng and he eloquent.

If it were ſo that God would that the moſt perfite men ſhuld be in the court, it ſhuld be to vs more then a faulte, not incontinētly to be a courtier: knowing that ther can be no better tyme employed, then that whiche is beſtowed in hearyng the wiſe & ſage men: but when all is ſayd the places doeth not better the men, but the men the places.

God knowes (for example) how many gentle and good honeſt myndes labor in the villages, and how many foles & lubbers bragge it in palaices. God knoweth howe many well ordered wittes and iudgementes is hid in the villages, and how many rude wittes and weake braines face and brace in the court. How many be there in ye court the whiche although thei haue offices, dignities, eſtates & preeminences, yet in the village (after a maner of ſpeakyng) with great pain they are not able to rule .x. men. Howe many come out of ye court correctors of other, that thē ſelues in the villages ſhould be corrected? O how many thynges is ſayd amonges the poore laborers worthy to be noted? And contrary, ſpoken afore princes worthy to be mocked? O how many is in the court that make theim ſelues highly to be eſtemed, not for to be honeſt & diligent, but to come in auctoritie? And how many is there in the village forgotten and not ſette by, more for lacke of fauor then for either lacke of witte or diligence: The princes geue the offices: Thoſe that be in fauor haue the entry: nature the good bloud: The parentes the patrimony: and ye deſeruyng, honor: but to be wiſe and ſage cōmeth onely of God, and menne haue not the power to take it away. And if it were ſo that princes might geue good witte to whō they would, thei ſhould kepe it for theimſelues, ſeyng they neuer leeſe, but for lacke of knowlege. I take it for an euil point of ſuche as newly commeth frō the court to ye village, & beyng there, rather vſe mockyng then taſt the benefite therof. But in the meane tyme, thou ſeeſt their maner of life, yt is, to go to bed at midnight and riſe at x. of the clocke, & in makyng ready till noone, trimmyng their buſſhe, or bearde, and ſettyng the cap a wry. And all the day after, to talke of his darlyng yt he hath in the court, or of the battell of Granado wher he did meruails. And ſome there be of them that will lye and bragge that they were at the iorney of Pauay wt the capitaine Antony Deleua: at Tunes with the Emperour: or at Turron wt Andrew Doria. And for all his brabling he was no better then a ruffian or a zacar of Tholydo, or a knaue of Cordoua. We haue reherſed theſe thynges before written, to cauſe our minion friſkers to leaue mocking of the poore inhabitantes of the village, eſtemyng theim to be but fooles & lurdens. For I beleue, if my maiſter the Emperor would baniſhe all ye company of fooles, I feare me he were like to dwel alone in the court.

Let vs ſay then, that very late thei of ye court know themſelfes and ye order of their life & ꝓfeſſion, I meane ye profeſſion of yt religiō whiche thei kepe ſtraitly, the whiche conſiſtes in this: theipromiſe to pleaſe the deuil, and to cōtent the court, and to folowe the worlde: They promiſe to be euer penſife, ſad and ful of ſuſpicion: They promiſe alwayes to be choppyng and chaungyng, full of buſynes, to bye, to ſel, to wepe, to ſinne, and neuer to reforme themſelues: They ꝓmiſe alſo to be iagged and raggged, an hungred, indebted and diſpiſed: They promiſe to ſuffre rebukes of Lordes, theft of their neighbours, iniuries of collerike men, mockeries of ye people, reproche of their parentes: and finally, miſſyng & lackyng of frendes.

Lo this is the profeſſion and rule of the obſeruauntes of the court: whiche I wyll not name a rule, but a confuſion, not a order but a diſorder, not a monaſtery, but a hel, and a religiō not of brethren, but of diſſolute perſons: no pore Hermites but coueteous worldely menne. O pitie, O lacke of good iudgement. The Oracle of Apollo beyng aſked by the Ambaſſadours of the Romaines where lay the point for one to gouern himſelf wel, The anſwer was, for a manne to knowe well his owne eſtate & degree that therby one may rule his deſires, & bridle his affecciōs. The courtier deſiryng al, & perceueryng in nothyng, ſhall thinke in his mynde, that if he get not in one yere ſome fee or office, that it is not for lacke of knowlege: but as a perſon ignorant & fooliſhe blameth his fortune, and curſeth the hour that euer he came thether, wtout calling to mynd that ye court is as ye Palme tre whoſe rote is a feadome vnder the ground, before that he ſhew two fyngers brede of leaues aboue the grounde. In like maner, a man muſt be long in ſeruice before he be promoted: yet ſo muche reſteth that ye perſeueryng & abidyng by it, cauſeth a man to hope: For to ſay the trueth, it is ſeen, if there be thre whiche deſerue more then thei haue, there be thre hūdreth that haue more then they deſerue. O how ſeldome tymes doeth fortune that ſhe ought for to do? And how many tymes fortunes hazard & chaſice doeth better then the aſſurance of vertue? becauſe ſhe meaſures her merites by ye euil lēgth of opinion, and not by reaſon: ſhe makes the water burne wt out fyre, the knife to cutte with out ſtele, the Candle to light without flame, the myll to go wtout water, & the cauſe is only her inconſtancy. If ſhe laugh in ye court of any, it is but with her eares, If ſhe wepe, it had been better neuer for a man to haue come out of his houſe: If ſhe lifte any vppe aloft, it is to throwe him doune againe lower then he was: If ſometyme ſhe diſſemble, it is to take one in a trap. Let no man then truſt of fortune, for ſhe is ſo variable, that ſhe neuer holdeth her promiſe of that ſhe geueth, neither by worde nor yet by writyng that ſhe maketh.

The .xv. Chapiter ¶That among courtiers is neither kept amitie nor fayth fulnes: And howe muche the Court is full of trauail, of enuye & rancour.

ONe of the moſt exceſſiue trauailes amōg the courtiers is, that none is reſident there wtout he be hated or at the leſt that he hate: that is not purſued or els doteh purſue, that doeth not mocke or els is mocked.

And one vnhappy thyng is in the court, many there be that will do of their bonette to you, that gladly would ſe your heades of by the ſhoulders: And ſuche there be that makes reuerence vnto you that would haue his legge broken to ſe you dead and caried to your graue: Is it not a great pitie to be cō uerſaunt all daye together, to laugh & make merye one with another, and yet haue mortall hate? Is not this more then a diſſimulaciō, to honor him whō they would be glad to ſee led to the gallous? One thyng for al, it is ambicion & to muche hope of ſharpe and bitter fortune, & lacke of knowlege, of this, that amitie well obſerued, is muche worth to moderate a manne.

What life, what fortune, what taſt may he take yt ſeeth himſelf daily preſent in the court, wher is ſo muche theft, bribry, murders, poyſoners, felons, & traytours ready to betray and ſell a man, and he himſelf betrayed and ſolde? And contrarywyſe what felicitie is it to be in the companye of thoſe, with whom a man may faythfully recreate himſelfe fearyng noman? In the court, there be gentlemen ſo rooted in vengeaunce & hatred that by no meane, requeſt, nor gentlenes a manne may direct them frō their euil ententes, in ſuche maner that they be glad to make warre with their owne houſes, to chaſe peace frō them ſelues to the houſes of their enemies? Wherby one may wel preſuppoſe as is aforſayd, that vnneth one may hope to haue frendes in the court, and leſſe truſt: and the greater menne in auctoritie, ye more afrayde they be to fall. What then cauſes a man there to tary in ſuche trauail? I haue wonder that any can ſuffre it or haue a heart to diſſemble it. O how fortunate is he that leadeth his life in the village, with ye meane buſynes of his litle poſſeſſion, in compariſon of y courtier whoſe eſtate is euer vnhappy & of al partes miſerable, that neuer ceaſes to hope of thynges vaine, in procuryng vniuſt thinges & ſuche thynges that neuer can be determined. And if thoughtes were wynde, & his deſires waters, it ſhould be greater daunger to ſaile in his heart then in the maine ſea. In the court is one thyng I wotte not what, & one thyng I knowe not howe, and one thyng I vnderſtande not, whiche cauſeth there inceſſauntly complaintes, and continuall choppyng and chaungyng, and euermore diſpite & enuy: and that worſt is there is no libertie to depart thence.

The yoke of the court is hard, the bondes faſte tyed and the plough ſo tedious that thoſe that wene to be the firſt to tryumph, are the firſt that labor & drawe the weightie burdens. And ſuche as are poore & ignoraunt men ſuffre theſe intollerable trauailes, becauſe they would not be as ſubiectes in their owne countreys, and to haue a greater libertie to do euil. But God knowes what ſuche libertie coſteth them, that for a ſhorte and vaine pleaſure purchaſe to theimſelues, continual trauail and perpetual bō dage. The propertie of this vicious libertie, or better to cal it, this miſcheuous ſubieccion, is, that at the beginnyng it ſemeth ſomewhat pleaſaunt: but in the ende al cōuertes to a bitternes, ſorow, and lamētacion, chiefly when a man hath experience by litle & litle of the vice that this life conteyneth. For if he accompany with women, he muſt flatter them, ſerue them, & intreate theim: And if money lacke, then muſt there be ſome deuiliſhe ſhift made.

deuiliſhe nede. For why, when one commeth new to the court, my lady dame gorgious, ledes him a trayne, ſhe entertaynes him, ſhe makes muche on him, ſhe colles him: but when ſhe ſpyeth him to lacke, ſhe ſendes him to paſture in the bare fieldes. And if the tyme of eatyng come, the courtier muſt often tymes fede with them, whom he would ſee eaten without ſauce Nowe, if his turne be to playe, therin is litle profite: if he wyn, he muſt liberally departe with the gaine to thoſe that ſtād by: & if he looſe, they reſtore to him neuer a penny. And if the courtiers turne be to ieſt, and to be mery, therin he findeth no fruit for the courtiers playe beginneth in fayre wordes, & endes with braulyng, chidyng, & fightyng. And foraſmuche as it is the worſt life of al other lyues: Let vs conclude that there is nothyng worſe then a vaine courtier, & an idle huſbandmā.

The .xvi. Chapiter. By how muche the comon welthes and the courtes of the tyme paſſed wer more perfite then the courtes of the tyme preſent,

THe kyng Anchyſes did lament ye diſtruccion of the proude Troye, done by the princes of Greece: The Quene Roſaine bewailed her huſband Darius, when he was ouercome by the great Alexander.

Ieremy the prophet cōplained the eſtate of Babylon, when it was helde captiue. Kyng Dauid lamented his ſoonne Abſolon when Ioab kilde him. The lady Cleopatra thought no nother but to dye for ſorow when her deare & welbeloued Marcus Antonius was vanquiſhed by the Emperour Auguſtus.

The Conſul Marcus Marcellus lamented the citie of Syracuſe when he ſawe it on a fyre. Saluſt, Rome, euil gouerned. The Patriarche Iacob his ſoonne Ioſeph: The kyng Demetrius his good father Antigonus whē he founde him dead at the battail of Marathone. It ſhalbe alſo conuenient that amonges theſe wel renoumed princes we ſhould lament the miſeries of our tyme, in the whiche we ſee thynges ſo merueilous, that ye curious auctours of the tyme paſſed neuer wrote thynges ſē blable vnto them: Nor the men in thoſe dayes neuer ſawe the like. Truth it is that the Chroniclers in thoſe dayes wrote what they would, In our tyme ſcant any man dare ſpeake.

The Philoſopher Ariminius hath written of ye aboundaunce of Egipt: Demophō of the fartilitie of Arabia: Thucidides of the treaſures of Tyrus: Aſclepius of the Mynes of Europe: Dodrillus in the commendacion and praiſynges of Grece: Leonides of the triumphes of Thebes: Eumenides of the gouernement of Athens: Theſiphontes of the order that is kepte in the court, and of ye princely houſes of the Sicioniens: Pytheas of the profite that came by ye lytle ſpeaking of the diſciples of Socrates: Apollinus of the continencie and abſtinence that was kepte in ſchooles of the diuine Plato: Myronides of the great exerciſe, and of the litle reſt that was in the houſe of Hyarcas: Aulus Gelyus of ye temperance and litle eatyng, and of the moderate ſlepyng of the diſciples of maiſter Fauorimus: Plutarch of the wiſe women of Greece, & of the chaſte wyues of Rome: Dyodorus, how thoſe that were inhabitantes in ye Iſles of Balyares caſte their treaſure into the ſea for feare leſt the ſtraungers for coueteouſnes of their riches ſhuld make thē warres, and to the entent alſo that no parcialitie ſhuld grow among themſelues.

Hearyng then all this that that I haue ſayd, I demaunde of the reader his aduiſe what my penne ſhould write of our tyme? If we ſhould write of bountie and veritie, we ſhould falſely lye: If of riches, men be ſo gredy that all be diſpoſed to deſyre and hunger couetouſly. How ſhal we then praiſe ye men of our tyme? Shal we ſay they be hardy and puiſſaunt & learned, and we ſe that thei employ their myndes to nothyng els but to robbe and beguile eche one the other? How ſhall we praiſe theim of proſperitie and helth, ſeyng that the peſtilence and the Frenche pockes more then common is among them? How ſhall we commende their continencie & abſtinence, ſeyng that ſcant in fiftie yeres ye ſhal not fynde one that will bridle his luſt and deſyre? Shall we praiſe theim of litle reſt and of muche exerciſe, when we ſe that there is a greater nombre that geue themſelfes to idlenes and thefery, then to honeſt trauels & paines? How ſhall we praiſe them of temperat eatyng, when we ſee in our dayes the belly is mennes God? How ſhall we cō mend theim for hauyng chaſt women and obediēt, ſeyng that there is nothyng more cōmon among them then adultry?

Shal we ſay, they be not couetous, ſeyng that not onely men ſerche golde and ſyluer in depe mynes, but men trauail to ſeke it as farre as the Indiens, of a vyneyarde ſo froſon, of a tre ſo dry, of fruit ſo vnripe, of a water ſo troubled, of bread ſo euil bakē, of ſo much falſe gold, of a world ſo ſuſpicious, what ſhal we hope any other thereof but euil & confuſion? Let vs reade that is written of the courtes of the princes of Siria, of Percia of Macedonia, of Grecia, and finally of the Romaines: And let vs cōferre theſe to our courtes, and ye ſhal ſee ſuche euils and vicious cuſtomes in our common welthes, that the auncientes did neuer attaine to ye knowlege how to committe ſuche abhominacions, nor yet (I ſay) to inuēt ſuch euils. In thoſe moſt happy times & golden worldes an euil condicioned man ſcant durſt to haue ſhewed himſelfe in any honeſt cōpany: but now alas (a thing to be lamēted) the worlde is ſo repleniſhed with diſſolute & corrupt liuyng, that it is counted but a ſmall faulte to be euil, excepte he be ſuche a one as is paſt al ſhame & grace. The courtiers wil not deny me but that whiles they geue attē dance for the vpriſyng of their maiſters, they tell eche one the other what paſtyme they haue had the night before, how they haue plaied, ſworne and ſtared at their game, of their laughynges, and the cōpanies they haue had wt the gentle dames: which of them was fayreſt and beſt apparelled? and ſometyme in ſecret of thoſe that they haue committed adultery withal.

And thus, as the worlde is newe, the inuēcions are newe, ye playes new, the garmētes new, newe ſpeakyng, newe maners, & new euery yere, euery moneth ye and euery day, & euery hour: we ſee vices ſo largely delated, and vertue ſo diminiſhed, that I am aſhamed to write it: And the true cauſe is, that in ye court vertue hath many controllers and enemies, and vice innumerable vpholders and maynteiners. For if there be brought into the court one laudable cuſtome, it is no ſoner come, but furthwith it is chaſed awaye: And on the other part, vice can not ſo ſone appeare, but it is as ſoone embraced & entertained. The ſage lawyer Lygurgus did defend expreſſely by a law that the ſtraūgers ſhuld not knowe the ſecretes of his cōmon welth nor that his citezens ſhould meddle muche abrode, for that purpoſe as is ſaid, that in medlyng with them, they ſhuld not learne their vices nor their barberous condicions.

In the tyme when Marcus Portius was Conſull, ther came an excellent Muſician out of Grece into Rome, whiche for becauſe that he put one ſtryng more on his harpe then was accuſtomed to be plaied withall, he was by the conſent of ye people baniſhed from Rome & his harpe burnte: Howbeit in this our tyme, we could well agree with Muſique, and would not paſſe how many ſtynges the harpe had: ſo that men might agree and ſtay theim ſelues.

Plutarch ſayth that he ſaw once at Rome a prieſt of Grece ſtoned to death in the great place of Campus Marcus, becauſe that he did ſacrifice to the Goddeſſe Berecinthe in other maner then they were accuſtomed to be ſacrificed vnto. Suetonius affirmeth that in .iiii.C.lxiiii. yeres whiche was the tyme that the temple Vierges Vaſtales endured, there was neuer found but iiii. euil liuyng perſons, whiche were Domicia, Rhea, Albina & Cornelia, the whiche for their offences were openly buryed quicke. If at this daye one would regiſtre the names of ſuche like, to be ſo puniſhed, I leaue it to your iudgemēt whether there ſhuld lacke hāgmen to do execucion. Trebelius Publius ſayd that the Emperoure Aurilianus Quintus toke a gret frende of his from the office of Dictator, whiche was named Rogerius, onely becauſe he had daunſed at the weddyng of Poſteria Auia his nigh neighbour ſaiyng, that the good Iudge ſhould not leaue his grauitie & vſe ſuche wilde and common plaies. But ſo it is, whatſoeuer this Emperour ſayd, In our tyme we will geue licence to iudges to remeue their feete as faſt as they will, ſo that they holde their handes ſtil. It ſhal make no matter to the poore pleader whether his iudge ſing or daunce, ſo that he miniſtre iuſtice with expedicion, that the the poore man come not often tymes and geue to muche attendaunce. In this caſe it were very good to rayſe ye Emperor Domitian, whiche as Suetonius writeth made a lawe, that whoſoeuer prolonged the proces of his clyant more then one yere, that he ſhould for euer be baniſhed Rome. If this holy lawe had dured to this daye, there ſhuld haue been more baniſhed in Rome and els where, then there are now citezens.

The .xvii. Chapiter. Of diuers noble and valiaunt men, that left the court & the great cities and drewe theim to their proper houſes, more by wil, then by neceſſitie.

MArcus Craſſus a captaine of the Romaines, was greatly cō mended and praiſed for that he was valiaunt in the warre, and wiſe in the buſynes of his houſholde: This is that Craſſus that folowed the parcialitie of ye Conſull Silla againſt Marius and Iulius Caeſar after Dictator. It chaunſed on a tyme that by the fortune of the ſea, the ſayd Caeſar was priſoner to certain pyrates and robbers of the ſea, and he ſayd boldly to ii. or. iii. of the beſt of them that kept him faſt bounde, It doeth (ſayd he) greue me muche, not for that I am taken priſoner, foraſmuche as that is but hazard of the warre, but of ye pleaſure that myne enemye Craſſus will take when he doeth heare of ye newes. This Craſſus was Maiſter to a Philoſopher named Alexandrius, that gouerned him as a father, counſailed him as a frēde, and taught him as a maſter: And this did he by the ſpace of .xviii. yeres, whiche paſſed, then he demaunded licence to returne to his coūtrey: And goyng his way, ſayd theſe wordes vnto Alexāder: I aſke of the none other rewarde for my payne, nor for my labors in teachyng of thee, then to graūt that I ſhall neuer returne to the court againe: & when I am gone that thou wilt neuer write vnto me of thyne affaires, for yt I am ſo wery of beyng a courtier, that I wil not onely leaue the court, but alſo forgettt all that euer I ſawe or heard in it. Denis of Siracuſe, albeit that he was a cruel tyrant, yet notwithſtanding he was a great frende to the Philoſophers, and a honorer of wiſe men. And he ſayd that he toke muche pleaſure to heare of the wiſe and ſage men of Grece, but he beleued theim not, becauſe their teachynges were wordes without dedes. Seuen of the moſte ſageſt and beſte learned of Grece came to Siracuſe a citie where the ſayd Denys was reſident: that is to ſay, Plato, Chylo, Demophon, Diogenes, Myrtho, Pyllades and Surranus the whiche medled more of ye affaires of Denis then he did of their doctrin. Dyogenes dwelled a xi. ycre with him, and after returned to his coū trey, where he beyng & waſhing of herbes for his diner, another Philoſopher ſayd to him: If thou haddeſt not left ye ſeruice of Denis thou needeſt not now to haue taken ye paine to waſhe thyne owne herbes and make them redy for thy dyner. To whom Dyogines anſwered: If thou couldeſt haue been cōtent to haue waſhed & eatē herbes: yu nedeſt not at this tyme to haue been in the court of Dioniſius. Cato the Cenſor of whom the names of Cato fyrſt began, was eſtemed for one of the wyſeſt of the Romaines: And he was neuer ſene in .lxviii. yeres (for ſo lōg he liued) not once to laugh nor to do any thing repugnant to his ſage grauitie. Plutarch ſayeth that he was in ſpeakyng prudent, gentle in cōuerſacion, in correctyng ſharpe & ſeuere, in preſentes liberall, in eatyng ſober, and in that that he promiſed, ſure and certain, & in executing iuſtice irreprehenſible.

After the age of .lv. yeres he lefte the court of Rome, & with drewe himſelf to a litle village nigh to Picene, which is now at this preſēt called Puzol: & there he paſſed ye reſidue of his yeres in quiet and reſt, accompanyed only with his bokes, & takyng for a ſinguler recreacion for to go twiſe or thriſe a day to walk in the fayre fieldes & the vines, & himſelfe oft to labor in them. And it fortuned on a day when he was abſent from his houſe that one wrote with a cole vpō his doore O felix Cato, tu ſolus ſcis viuere, whiche is to ſay, O happy Cato, thou only knoweſt how to liue.

Lucullus Conſull and capitain, a Romain, right valiant, brought to an end the warre againſt the Parthes whiche had continued by the ſpace of .xvi. yeres, wherby he gat great honor of the citezens of Rome, & immortall renoune for himſelf and great riches for his family. And it is ſayd of him, that he onely of all the Romaines did enioy peaceably in his age, the riches that he had wōne in his youth in the warres. And after when he came from Aſia & ſaw that the common welth was in deuiſion betwixt Marius & Silla, he determined to leaue Rome & make a houſe in the countrey nigh to Naples vpon the ſea ſyde (nowe at this preſent tyme called ye Caſtel of Lobo) which he edified and liued there xviii. yeres in great tranquilitie. His houſe was haunted with many people, ſpecially with great capitaines that went into Aſia, and with Ambaſſadours that came from Rome, whiche he receiued very gently & benignly. One night when his ſeruauntes had made ready his ſupper with a leſſe dyet then he was accuſtomed to haue, they excuſyng theimſelues that they ordained the leſſe becauſe he had no ſtraungers: He ſayd vnto theim, although ſayd he, that there be no ſtraūgers with me, knowe not you that Lucullus muſt ſuppe with Lucullus.

Plutarch ſpeakyng of this valiaunt mannes exerciſe that he did after he was retired to the place aforeſayd, ſayeth that he delited muche in huntyng and hawkyng, but aboue all pleaſures he moſt delited in his Library, there reading and diſputyng inceſſantly. Helius Spertianus ſayth that Diocleſian, after that he had gouerned the Empyre xviii. yeres, forſoke it, and wente to take his pleaſure in the fieldes, there in quiet to ende the reſidue of his life, ſaiyng: that it was tyme for him to leaue ye daūgerous eſtate of the court & get him to a peaceable life in the village. Two yeres after he was thence retyred, ye Romaines ſent vnto him a ſolemne Ambaſſade to inuite and deſire him effectuouſly that he would take pitie of ye cōmon welth, and returne, promiſyng him that ſo long as they liued there ſhould none haue the name of Emperour but he. Nowe when ye Ambaſſadours ariued at his houſe, they found him in a litle garden wher he was ſettyng of Lettys and Onyons: And hearyng what they ſayd vnto him, he anſwered in this wiſe: Do you not thynke my frendes, that it is muche better for him that can ſowe his Lettys, and afterwarde pleaſantly and merely to eate theſame, ſo ſtill to exerciſe himſelfe, then to returne & entre into the goulfe of troubles in a cōmon welth? I haue aſſaied bothe, I knowe what it is to commaunde in the court, and what it is to liue & labor in the village, wherfore I pray you ſuffre me here to abide in pacienee, for I deſire rather here to liue with the labor of my hādes, then in the ſorow and cares of an Empire. Note by this example that the life of the laborer is more to be deſired, then the life of a prince.

Cleo and Pericles ſucceded in the rulyng of the common welth after Solon, a man excellently lerned and wel eſtemed, and taken among the Greciās for half a God, by the reaſon of the wyſe lawes he made amōg the Atheniens: Theſe two noble gouernours were muche be loued, becauſe that (as Plutarch telleth) Pericles whiche .xxx. yeres had the adminiſtraciō of ye buſines and affaires of ye citie, was neuer ſene to come into any mans houſe but his owne, nor yet to ſit in any open place among ye cōmon people, ſuche a grauitie was in him.

Aboute the yeres of his age whiche was .lx. he went from Athens to a litle village, where he ended the reſt of his dayes, ſtudiyng and paſſing the tyme in huſbandrye: He had a litle ſmall gate or wicket in the entryng of his houſe, ouer which was written Inueni portū, ſpes, & fortuna valete. That is to ſay, foraſmuche as now (and before I haue knowlege of vanitee) I haue founde the porte of reſt, fye of hope, and fortune farewell. By this example, no courtier can ſay that he leadeth a ſure life, but onely that courtier whiche doeth as this wyſe captain did, withdraw himſelf.

Lucius Seneca, was as who ſhuld ſay, a right leder to good maners, & a inſtructer to good letters to Nero the ſixt Emperour of Rome, with whom he taried .xxiiii. yeres, & had great doynges of thīges pertainyng to the cōmon wealth, as well of priuate cauſes as otherwyſe, becauſe he was ſage and of great experience. And at the laſt, cō myng to great age and weryed with the continual conflictes & buſyneſſe of the court, lefte the court and went and dwelt in a litle mancion he had nigh to Nole Campana, where he liued after, a long tyme as witneſſeth his bookes De officiis, de Ira, de bono viro, de aduerſa fortuna and other bookes whiche were to long to reherſe. At laſt (fortune and mannes malice did their office) Nero cōmaunded him to be ſlaine, not for that he had committed any crime worthy to dye, or done any thing otherwiſe then an honeſt manne ought to do: but onely becauſe the lecherous Domicia hated him: Note well reader this example, that ſometyme fortune purſueth him that forſaketh ye court, aſwel as the courtier.

Scipio the Affrican was ſo eſtemed among ye Romaines, that in .xxii. yeres, whiles yt he was in the warres he neuer loſt battell: And yet made he warre in Aſia, Europ, and Affrica, and to this, neuer committed acte worthy of reproche: And yet he wan Africa and put to ſacke Carthage, brought in bōdage Numance, ouercame Hannibal, and reſtored Rome weakened and nere deſtroyed by the loſſe they had at ye battail of Cānes. And yet for all this, beyng of ye yeres of. lii. he withdrewe him frō the court of Rome to a litle village betwixte Puzoll and Capua, where he liued a ſolitary life, and ſo content withal, that whiles he taried there a xi. yeres ſpace, he neuer entred into Rome nor Capua.

The diuine Plato was borne in Liconia, and was noriſhed in Egipt, and learned in Athens: It is red of him, that he anſwered ye Ambaſſadours of Cirene that required of him lawes to gouerne theim ſelues in ſure peace, in this wiſe: Difficilimū eſt homines ampliſſima fortuna ditatos legibus cōtinere. Which is to vnderſtand, that it is hard to bryng to paſſe to make riche men to be ſubiect to the rigour of the lawe. To conclude, Plato not willyng to abide lōger the clamor & cry of the court, went and dwelt in a litle village two myles frō Athens called Academia, where the good old man after he had taryed there. xiiii. yeres, teachyng and writyng many notable doctrines, ended there his moſte happye dayes. After the memorye of him, the aūcientes called yt village Academia, whiche is to ſay in Engliſh, a ſchole: The cōcluſion is that all theſe honourable ſage princes & wiſe menne, left Monarchies, kyngdomes, cities, & great riches, and went into the villages, there to ſerche a pore, an honeſt, & a peaceable life.

Not that I will ſaye that ſome of theſe lefte ye court, to be there poore and baniſhed and rebuked, but of their fre wil and fre libertie, minding to liue a quiet and honeſt life or they dyed.

The. xviii. Chapiter. ¶The Aucthor complaineth with great reaſon, of the yeres that he loſt in the court.

I Wyl demaunde of myne owne ſelfe, mine owne life, and make accoumpt of theſame, to the entent that I will conferre my yeres to my traueiles, and my trauailes to my yeres, that it may appeare how long I lefte of to liue, and beganne to dye.

My life (gentle reader) hath not been a life, but a lōg death: my daies a play new for to begyn: my yeres a very tedious dreame: my pleaſures Scorpions: my youth a tranſitorie fā taſy. My proſperitie hath been no proſperitie: but properly to ſpeake, a painted caſtell, and a treaſure of Alcumyn.

I came to ye court very yong, where I ſaw diuers maners of offices and chaunges, euen among ye princes that I ſerued. And I haue aſſayed to trauail by ſea and by lande, and my recompence was much more then I deſerued: and that was this, that ſometyme I was in fauor, and ſometyme out of fauor. I haue had experience of ye ſomerſautes of deſtines: I haue had in the court frēdes & enemies: I haue had falſe reportes: I haue been euen nowe glad and mery, and furth with ſadde and ſory: to daye riche, to morowe poore: now mounted vpward, & ſtraite throwen dounewarde: This hath been to me a maſkyng, where I haue loſte both money and tyme. And nowe I ſaye to the my ſoule, what haſt thou gotten of this great iorney? The recompence is this, that I haue gotten there a gray head, fete ful of ye goute: mouth wtout tethe: raines full of grauel: my goodes layd to pledge: my body charged wt thought: and my ſoule litle clenſed from ſynne. And yet is there more ſeyng yt I muſt nedes ſpeake, that is, that I haue returned my body ſo wery, my iudgemēt dull, my tyme ſo loſt, the beſt of my age ſo paſſed, and that is worſt of al, I founde no taſt in any thing that is in the worlde: ſo that to conclude, I am of my ſelfe al wery of my ſelfe. What ſhould I more tell or ſay of the alteracion of my life, and of the chaunges of fortune? I came to the court innocent, and come from it malicious: I went thither true and meanyng truth, & returned a lyar: I went thither humble, & returned preſumptuous: I wēt thither ſobre, and returned a gurmand & gluttō: I wente thither gentle and humaine, and returned cleane cō trary. Finally in goyng thither I marde my ſelf in all pointes: And I haue no cauſe to laye y faut in my maſters, for ye vices ſoone learned wtout a maſter, & cannot be forgotten without a corrector. O miſerable that I am, I kept in the court an accompt of my goodes, to knowe how they were waſted, and not for to diſtribute theim to the poore: I toke hede of my honor for to encreaſe it, not for to better my ſelfe by the tyme: I toke care of them that ſhuld pay me, to know what was owyng me, and not that I might gette to profite the poore withal, but to ꝓfite in riches and not in vertue. I helde an accoumpt with my ſeruauntes, to none other purpoſe, then to know how lōg thei had been with me & ſerued me, & not to enquire what life thei led: Finally, I held a coūpt of my life, but it was more to conſerue it, then to correct it.

Lo, beholde, this was my accoumpt, this was my calculacion, this was the Arſmetrique that I learned in the court.

Let vs yet go a litle further and ſe mine exerciſes. I neuer was yet in the court but I foūd to whom I bare malice, or els that enuied me. I was neuer yet in the palaice but I founde a window open, and a courtier murmur. I neuer yet ſpake to princes, but I went from them not cōtented in my mynde with ſome parte of their anſwere. I neuer yet went to bed without complaint, nor neuer did ryſe wtout a ſigh. If I went about to do any good thing, my great affaires hyndered me. If I would ſtudy, my felowes letted me. If I went to take any honeſt and quiet paſtyme, myne affaires would not permit me. If I kept my ſelfe ſolitary and from companye, my thoughtes martyred me: Finally ther was neuer any thyng that ſo vexed my heart as the lacke of money in my purſe. And yet all this is nothyng, remembryng that I was euer enuyous to ſuche as were myne equalles: a flatterer to my ſuperiors, and without pitie to mine inferiors: & where I phanſied one, I bare hate almoſt to all other. I found euery man worthy of reprofe, but againſt my ſelfe I could not ſuffre a worde to be ſpoken. O howe forgetfull haue I been, whiche ſhould forget or a morſell of meate had been put in my mouth, and haue talked aloude to my ſelf alone, as it had been one that had been mad? O how often hath chaunced me yt in commyng from the counſail wery, or frō ye palaice thoughtfull, I would not heare myne owne ſeruaūres ſpeake, nor diſpatche ſuche as I had to do wt all? O how many tymes haue I been ſo drouned in buſynes, that I could not moderate my penſiuenes, although my frendes did counſail me to the contrary? O alas, how many times hath my mynde preſſed me to leaue the court and the worlde, and to yelde my ſelfe to ſome ſolitary deſert, as an Heremite? becauſe I ſawe ye kyng auaūce him and him, and I put backe as a perſon halfe deſperate.

Moreouer to fulfil my trauailes, alwaies I wente aſkyng & ſerchyng newes of the affaires of ye court: alwaies harkenyng what one ſayd of another: alwaies ſpiyng and watchyng: & all this conſidered, I found by myne accoumpt, that I liued in heauynes, captiuitie, and ſtate of damnacion.

Let vs yet go farther: If I were riche, one or other ſerched ſome meane to deuour me: If I were poore, I found none to ſuccour me: my frendes cryed out vpō me, and mine enemies ſought my death. Ouermuche bablyng of the courtiers brake my braines: and muche ſilence made me to ſlepe, and the ſolicitude cauſed me to be ſad: And ouermuche company oppreſſed me: muche exerciſe weryed me, and idlenes confounded me.

To cōclude, I ſo burdened and vexed my ſelf in the court with ſo muche trauail in naughtynes, yt I durſt not deſire death, although I had no deſire to liue.

The .xix. Chapiter. The aucthor maketh accoumpt of the vertues that he loſt in the court, and of the euil cuſtomes that he learned there,

BVt nowe to procede, my fortune paſſed, my frēdes dyed, my force decaied, and my firſt faſhiōs failed: O if al my paines had been ended at the firſt tyme when I came to the courte, howe happye had that been for me? but nowe all conſumed, I complaine ſingulerly of my traitorous hearte, which would neuer ceaſe to deſire vain thinges, and the curſed tong to ſpeake ſclaūderous thīges. O gentle reader, be not wery, if I tel thee in fewe wordes the difference betwixte him that I was when I went firſt to the court, & that I am nowe ſince I haue been in the court. Firſt and before that I did caſt my ſelfe into this perilous labyrinthe (which is to ſay a priſon full of all ſnares) I was a good deuout perſon, gētle and fearefull: and ſince I haue lerned to be a miſchieuous felow, ſlowe in doyng good, and litle or nothing regardyng ye welth of my ſoule. I went thether beyng very yong and of good diſpoſicion, and came from thence deffe, & more then ſpurblynde, and nomore able to go then he that is full of the goute: And briefely and olde gryſard, ful of ambicion, in ſuche wyſe, that I am ſo variable, that ſcant I knowe on what grounde to ſet my feete. My heart was of ſo depraued a ſort, that it deſired to be diſcharged of all accions, and yet for all that founde no nother but peril and torment.

Sondry tymes I purpoſed to leaue the court, and ſodenly I repented. Sometyme I purpoſed not to come out of my lodgyng, & ſtrait waies I was enforced to trot a trot to the court. Sometyme I purpoſed not to come to the palaice, and or I were ware I was compelled to go thither ſometyme or it were day. I purpoſed to be nomore vexed, & ſodenly my paſſions augmēted, And it folowed that my good purpoſes ceaſed and went frō me: and I did that was leude & naughty. Behold how I liued of wynde and of fooles imaginacions as many a fooliſhe courtier doth. I haue phātaſied with my ſelf (in the court ſometyme) that I gouerned the kyng & the princes, and that I came of a noble houſe and auncient ſtocke, excellent in ſciēce, great in fauor and beloued of all men, ſage in counſail, moderate in ſpeaking eloquent in writyng, prudent in ſeruice, and conformable to all. But when I waked out of my folly as from a dreame, and looked to my feete, I knewe eaſly that I had born falſe witnes to my ſelfe of this golden & pleaſāt imaginacion, & ſawe of truth in other, ye which I dreamyngly imagined of my ſelfe.

I ſerched the waie how to be eſtemed of euery mā, holy, wiſe, gentle, cōtent, & of a good zele, and a ſea of ſadnes. Lo this faulte happeneth to courtiers as it did vnto me, yt is, to ioyne foliſhe libertie with vertuous honor, whiche be two thinges that cannot agree, becauſe that diſordinate will is enemye to vertue and honor. But for my part good reader, I geue thankes vnto God, my affeccions be ſomewhat waſted and mortified, for I was woont 〈◊〉 in ſeruice, to deſire daily t at e court might remoue: 〈◊◊〉 I care not though ſeldo •… 〈◊〉 neuer I come from my h ſe I had a ſpeciall luſt to 〈◊◊〉 for newes, And now I care n •• for them at all. I ſaw the tyme when I loued not to be out of company, And now I deſire no thyng more then to be ſolitary. I was wont to delite to heare, to ſee iuglers, daunſers, lyars, and daliars: And now ſo to do, wer to me more then death. In like maner I was wont to ſolace my ſelfe in Fiſhyng, Hunting, ſhootyng in the Hackbut: And nowe I mynde no nother but to bewaile and lament the tyme I haue loſte: and call to minde the firſt tyme that the Emperor toke me into his ſeruice, frō thence where I was noriſhed from my tendre yeres in great feare, & not knowyng what the world was, but occupied only in my deuocions and lernynges: I often roſe at midnight, I comforted the ſicke, I red the goſpell and other good bokes of good doctrine. Briefly, euery mā did helpe me to be good, and chaſtiſed me frō euil: If I did well, I was praiſed: if I did euil, I was corrected: if I were heauye, I was comforted: if I were angry, I was appeaſed if in any agony, my frē des praied to God for me: O what cauſe haue I to repent out of meaſure, thus to haue forſaken reſt and godly liuyng and to haue enioyed epiſcopall dignitie, in which the Emperor ſet me: foraſmuche as a verteous life is ye hauen of all good, and the Epiſcopal dignitie the ſea of all daungier. Lo how I haue paſſed my good yeres wt out emploiyng my tyme wel, & wtout knowlege what my fortune ſhould be. I do therfore admoniſhe the reder, to do better then I haue done in ye court, if yu be there, or els to forſake it in a better houre then I haue done: for ſo doyng thou ſhalt declare thy ſelfe, that thou haſt determined to liue ſagely and well aduiſed.

The .xx. Chapiter. The auctour taketh his leaue of the worlde with great eloquence.

FArewell world, foraſmuch as one can nor may truſt of ye nor in the. For in thy houſ (o world) the paſſage is paſte, and that whiche is preſent goeth ſoone away, and that whiche is to begyn, commeth wonderous late, foraſmuche as he that thinketh himſelfe moſt firme, ſoneſt doth fall, the moſte ſtrongeſt ſooneſt doeth breake, and perpetuities ſooneſt decay, in ſuche ſort that thoſe which be deſtinate to liue an hūdreth yeres, thou ſuffereſt him not of all that time, to liue one yere in quiet.

Farewell worlde, foraſmuch as thou takeſt, & rendereſt not againe, thou weryeſt, but comforteſt not, thou robbeſt, but makeſt no reſtitucion, & yu quarelleſt, but doeſt not pacifie, & accuſeſt before thou haue cauſe to complaine & geueſt ſentence before thou heareſt the parties, euen till thou kill vs, and then burieſt vs before we dye.

Farewell worlde foraſmuch as in thee, nor by thee, there is no ioye wtout trouble, no peace without diſcorde, loue without ſuſpicion, reſt without feare, aboūdance without fault, honor without ſpotte, riches without hurte of conſcience, nor high eſtate but he hath ſomewhat that he complaineth of.

Farewell worlde, foraſmuch as in thy palaice promiſes are made & neuer kepte, men ſerue and haue no rewarde, they are inuited to be deceiued, they labour to be troubled, & trauail to take paine, they laugh and are beaten, thou faineſt to ſtay vs, to make vs fal, thou lēdeſt. to pull away ſtrait again, thou honoreſt vs, to defame vs, and correcteſt without mercy.

Farewell worlde, thou flaū dereſt them that are in credite, and doeſt auaūce the infamed, thou letteſt ye traitors paſſe fre, and putteſt true menne to their raūſomes, thou perſecuteſt the peaceable, and fauoreſt the ſedicious, thou robbeſt the poore & geueſt to the riche, deliuereſt the malicious, and condemneſt innocētes, gueſt licence to departe to the wiſe, and retaineſt fooles: and to be ſhort, the moſt part do what they lyſt, but not what they ſhould.

Farewell worlde, foraſmuche as in thy palaice no manne is called by his right name, for why? they call the raſhe valiaunt: the proude, colde harted: the importune, diligēt: the ſad, peaceable: the ꝓdigal, magnifical: the couetous a good huſband: the babler, eloquent: the ignoraunt, a litle ſpeaker: the wāton, amorous: the quiet mā, a foole: the forbearer, a courtier: the tyraunt, noble. And thus thou worlde, calleſt the counterfeat, the true ſubſtaūce, and the trueth, the counterfeat.

Farwel worlde, for thou deceiueſt all that be in thee: promiſyng to the ambicious, honors: to the gredy, to come forwarde: to the brokers, offices: to the couetous, riches: to the gluttons, bākettes: to the enemies vengeance: to the thefes, ſecretnes: to the vicious, reſt: to the yong, tyme: and to al thing that is falſe, aſſuraunce.

Farewell worlde, for in thy houſe fidelitie is neuer kepte, nor truth maintained: and alſo we may ſee in thy houſe, one glad, and another afrayd: ſome ouercharged: ſome out of the right way: ſome voyde of comfort, deſperate, ſad, heauy, ouerburdened and charged, & more then loſt, and ſometyme bothe.

Farewell worlde, foraſmuch as in thy cōpany, he that wenes himſelfe moſte aſſured, is moſt vncertain, and he that folowes thee, goeth out of the way: and he yt ſerues thee, is euil payed: and he that loues thee, is euil entreated: & he that contentes thee, contenteth an euil maſter: and he that haunteth thee, is abuſed.

Farewell worlde, foraſmuch as thou haſt ſuche miſhap, that ſeruices done and preſentes offered to thee, profite nothyng, nor the lyes that is tolde thee, nor the bākettes made to thee: nor the faythfulnes we geue to thee: nor the loue we beare to thee.

Farewell worlde, foraſmuch as thou deceiueſt al, backbiteſt all, & ſlaūdereſt al, chaſticeſt al, thretteſt vs al: achiueſt all, and in the ende forgetteſt all.

Farewell worlde, ſithens in thy company al men complain, all crye out, all wepe, & all men dye liuyng.

Farewell worlde, ſythens by thee we hate eche one the other to the death: To ſpeake till we lye: to loue, till we diſpaire: to eate, till we ſpue: to drinke, till we be drōken: to vſe brokage to tobbery: & to ſynne, till we dye.

Farewell world, for beyng in the, we forget our infācy, & our grene age, with out experience: our youth, in vices: our middle age in turmoilyng & buſynes: our olde age in lamētacions, & all our tyme coūted together in vaine hopes.

Farewell worlde, for in thy ſchoole we are led til ye heere be white: the eyes blered: the eares deaf: the noſtrels droppyng: ye forehead wrinkled: ye fete goutie: the raynes full of grauel: ye ſtomacke ful of euil humours: the head full of migrain: the body ful of ſorow, & the mynde full of paſſions.

Farewell worlde, for none of thy louers come to good ꝓfite, witneſſe thoſe that daily we ſee, are not falſe knaues marked in the face? theues hanged? manquellers headed? robbers by ye hye wayes, ſette vpon wheles? heritikes brent? falſe money makers boiled: killers of their parētes, torne in pieces, & other diuers puniſhementes of ſuche as are great in fauor wt thee?

Farewell worlde, foraſmuch as thy ſeruaūtes haue no more paſtyme, but to trot by the ſtretes, to mocke one another? to ſeke out wenches? to ſende preſentes: to beguile yong girles: write amorous letters: ſpeake to baundes: play at ye diſe: plede againſt their neighbour: tell newes: inuent lyes, and ſtudye newe vices.

Farewell worlde, for in thy palaice none will do good to other: for the Boare fightes againſt the Lyon: the Vnicorne againſt the Cocodril: the Egle againſt ye Vultur: the Elephāt againſt ye Mynotaure: the Sacre gainſt the Kyte: the maſtyf, againſt the Bull: One man againſt another, and al together againſt death.

Farewell worlde, becauſe yu haſt nothing, but to our ruine: For often the yerth openeth afore our feete: ye water drounes vs: the fyer burnes vs: the ayer miſtempers vs: the Wynter doth kyll vs: the Sōmer doth chafe vs, the dogges doth byte vs: the Cattes doeth ſcrat vs: the Serpētes doth poyſon vs: the Flyes doeth pricke vs: the Flees doeth eat vs: & aboue al, worldely buſines deuours vs:

Farewell worlde, ſeyng no man can paſſe thy dominion in ſuertie, for in euery pathe we fynde ſtoones to ſtumble at: bridges that brekes vnder vs: Snowe that letteth vs: Moū taines that werye vs: Thunders that feares vs: Theues that robbe vs: Encoūters that hurtes vs, & euil fortune that killes vs.

Farewell worlde, foraſmuch as in thy countrey there is litle health: for ſome be lippers, and ſome haue the French pockes: ſome the Canker, and ſome the goute: and ſome haue the foule euil, and ſome the Sciatica, and ſome the ſtone, and ſome Quotidian feuers: ſome wanderyng feuers, ſome tercian & quarten feuers: ſpaſmes, paulſies, & the moſte parte ſicke offaire folly.

Farewel worlde, foraſmuche as there is not a manne in thy houſe but he is noted with ſome defaute in his perſon: For if there be any talle man, the reſt is lubberlike. If he haue a fayre face, his iye ſhall be too blacke: If he haue a good forehed, it ſhalbe wrinkeled: If he haue a welfauored mouthe, he ſhall lacke teethe: If he haue faire hādes, he ſhal lacke faire heer, And if he haue faire heer, he ſhall haue a foule ſkynne.

Farewel worlde, foraſmuch as the inhabitaūtes in thee are ſo variable to maners and cō dicions, that ſome will folowe the court, ſome wil ſayle on the ſea: and if one would be a marchaunt, the other will be a huſbandman: If the one will be a hūter, the other will be a fiſher: If one wil gouerne a Monarchy, ye other vnder pretēce of yt, will pyll & poll ye poore people.

Farewell worlde, for aſmuche as in thy houſe there are none that prepare themſelfes to liue, and muche leſſe to dye: And yet we ſee ſome die yong, and ſome in middle age, ſome in old age, ſome dye by hāgyng, and ſome by drounyng: ſome dye for hū ger, & ſome in eatyng, ſlepyng, and reſtyng, and ſome or they beware, and for the moſt parte or they loke for death.

Farewell worlde, foraſmuch as we can neither knowe thy diſpoſicion nor condicion: For if one be wiſe, another is a fole: If one be fyne, another is of a groſſe witte: If one be valiant, another is a coward: If one be geuen to peace, another is ſedicious: And if one be of a gentle ſpirit, another is very froward.

Farewell worlde, ſeyng noman can liue with thee: for if a man eate to lytle, he becommes weake: if to muche, he waxeth ſicke: if a man labour, ſtraite he is wery: if he be idle, he liueth beſtly: if he geue litle, he is called a nigarde: if he geue muche, he is called prodigal: if a mā viſite his frēdes often, he is called importune: if to ſeldome, full of diſdaine: If a mā ſuffre wrong, he is called falſe hearted: And if he do reuenge then is he wilfull: If he haue frendes, he is praiſed: If enemies, he is purſued: if one tary to long in a place, he waxeth wery: and if he chaunge to oft, he is grudged at. Finally, I ſay, that ſuche thynges as diſpleaſe me, I am forced to folowe, and that which I would, I cannot come by.

O worlde vncleane, I coniure thee thou filthy worlde, I pray O thou worlde, & proteſt againſt thee thou worlde, that thou neuer haue part in me, for I demaūde nor deſire nothyng that is in thee, neither hope of any thyng in thee, for I haue determinined with my ſelf that poſui finem curis, ſpes, et fortuna valete. I haue finiſhed worldly cares, therfore hope and fortune farewell.

FINIS.

EXCVSVM LONDINI, IN AEDIBVS RICHARDI GRAFTONI, TYPOGRAPHI REGII. MENSE AVGVSTII.

M.D.XLVIII.

CVM PRIVILEGIO AD IMPRIMENDVM SOLVM.