YF, howe muche trauayle and en­deuour eche thing requyreth of vs, so muche we em­ployed on them according to their worthines: both we shuld oft place our toyle on weygh tyer matters, and thynges theym selues stand in better and more happy state. For as the thynges such com­monly are the men, whose happines dependeth of thē. Therfore, if the best and chiefest continued theyr worthy­nes, necessary were it men should liue happely and heaped with all kynde of blysse. Those therfore, who excell the rest, eyther in wytte, or soundenes of iudgement, & rightly paise the waight of eche thinge: chiefely trauayle in or­dering, handeling, or disposinge those thynges (as the nature of them wyl [Page]beare) of whyche eyther great profyte spryngeth, or more plenteous glorye ryseth. That, as to the excellencye of the thinges, the greatnes of theyr tra­uaile: so, to their trauaile, the encrease of theyr prosyte may aunswere. Con­trary wyse, ignoraunt, and altogether vnsa [...]sful is he to be demed, who swe­teth most in toyes: where eyther the worthe of the thing matcheth not his sweate, or the weyghte of his labour, ouer weyeth the profyte of his worke. But those that matche great trauaile with greate affayres, are worthelye praysed: who leaninge tryfles, leane and lye, with all theyr labour and di­ligence, on thinges excellent and sin­guler. For Paynters and Caruers in times paste, in drawinge or grauinge cunningly, Gods or noble men, coun­ted it gloryous to employe al the force of theyr wyt and learnyng. And curi­ously to carue the counterfait of Miner­ua, the Image of supiter Olimpius, Hele­ [...], Venus, or Alexander the great, it grie­ [...]ed not the excellent & famous work­men Phidias, Xeuxes, Apelles Protogenes, [Page]to spende all the treasure of theyr tra­uayle. They also that professe phisicke the more daungerous and doubtefull medecines they minister, in remedy­eng sharpe diseases: and, the more pe­rillous theyr cure is: so much the more glorye, and fauoure deserue and ar­tayne, if, what they attend diligentlye they f [...]nishe well & luckely. Of praise and meede farre worthier is he, who cureth a prince, a King, or Kaysar, thā who heales a poore man or a hynde. Sith of him loste, the misse is not so greate: but in the hasarde or death of the other semeth in maner to consitte the peril of the whole state. The same are commonly more warye and hede­full in curyng the head than the fyn­ger tops: the heart and stomacke then the feete. For those partes are sooner hurt and more estemed: these contra­rywise lesse weyghed, and ther withal lesse subiecte to peryll. So alwayes wyse men gladlyest proue theyr force on some precious thyng: and therfore are both more hyghly praysed, & more plenteouslye guerdoned. Wherfore, [Page]syth at this day, almost euerye state, & euen the pillers of kingedomes, staye on the counsaile wil & authority of the Nobility: and hit (wherso it come) is al waies honoured and estemed: He then most cōmodiously & profitablye besto­weth his trauaile, who learneth it yet rude, healeth it helples, reformeth it disordred, and restoreth if lost. That, whereof misordred the wofull wracke of the commen welth might ensue: of it wel ordred the chiefest commodities might growe. For, they be the heades they the stomakes and hearts of com­mon weales. So that who coueytes the safette of the other partes, must of necessity first minister to these. That they may conceyue moste deepely, sa­uour most suttelly, foresee most sharp­ly, that they maye deryue and spreade as through vaynes into euerye other parte, parcel of theyr commodities.

For they, be both the eyes, and eares of prynces, to see, heare, and foresee, such thinges, as be not onely profita­ble to them selues, but also commodi­ous & holesome to others. And as they [Page]be the subiectes of kinges: so be they in maner y^t lordes of y^e people. Wher­fore such meane and rule is to be pro­posed and prescribed thē, as they may learne to serue the first politikely, low ly and honourablye, to rule the other orderly, louingly, and vprightly.

Wherfore, who so enstrueteth anye one man with preceptes and instituci­ons of learning to liue morallye, and amend his maners: he trulye is to be estemed, and deemed a worthye man. But who enformeth a whole house and family, howe it may housholdlye be guided, is farre greater. Who lear neth then, how men may politykelye gouerne theyr common wealth: he tru lye, must nedes be farre better prysed than all the rest. In like maner, who yeldes a Noble man either learnedder or better, causeth not that one or a fewe become more helthefull: but that many yea the whole commen wealth is the better, and more sound. This to do are two fortes of men requisite. Thone to poynte and foreshewe the waye: thother to folowe it foretold.

The fyrst ought to brynge diligence, the other obedyence: they, not be ag­grieued to teache, the other not to dis­daine to learne. For painful teachers do in one workno vnprofitable seruice both to the prynce, his subfectes, & the Nobles thē selues. And the learners, this gayne, that they vauntage not all onely them selues, but learne their deuoyre bothe in humble seruyce to­wardes theyr Princes, and in honou­rable gouernemente ouer theyr peo­ple.

The fyrste forte therfore,Teaching of Nobi­litye. (fyrst to speake of them) ought paynefullye to teache the nobles, and often and glad ly to haunt theyr housen. That lear­ned by them, they maye learne in all thinges wel to welde theyr liues, and wisely to gouerne common charges: that theyr life incurre no infamy, but they perfourme theyr duties with the princes fauour, and the commen com­modity of theyr countrey. There are in dede bookes alreadye ersant of the teaching and framing of princes, but those preceptes, though ofte they may [Page]be applyed, and are in deede common to all men: neuertheles', syth other is the person of a prince, other of a no­ble man, one, theyr estate as lordes, other as subiectes: The selfe same preceptes, as to rulers and princes cā not alwayes feetly scrue thē. Wher­fore peculierly, preceptes both ought and may be geuen theyin: and that so much the rather, as wher ther be but fewe kynges, yet great and in maner infinite is the number of Nobles.

Princes also haue small traffike with the common people, but these enter­medle with them and vnder the com­maundement and name of prynces, welde the common welth at their plesure. Further where kinges do fewe or no [...]th [...]nges them selues, but cre­dite to these the rule, and (as it were) the raynes of the realme: it happes many times, they be not onely Prin­ces lieuetenauntes and Agents, but some times euen the lordes, & kinges of kinges. So that, as it were with their bytte they manege & tourne thē as they please. To conclude, Nobili­tye [Page]is also combred with his faultes: which it be houeth it to knowe. But, knowe it shall not but it heare them. Heare thē it can not but they be told. Told they be not. For wher the eares stand open to flattery, there wont the gates to be closed to aduisement and truth. And therfore commenly they se not their diseases, wherewyth they are of custome combred, and enwrap­ped but first they be openly printed.

So that thē selues may reade, and by reading vnderstand them of wrytten bookes, which frely roame and wan­der eche where, and abashe not to tell the truthe. It is therfore requisite, there be some, that may enstruct & re­forme them, accordinge to the princi­ples & institutions of their aūcestors.

Now (next to speake of learners) in vayne teach they,Nobilitie ought learne. if these eyther heare not, or necligently harken. Wherfore as it is theyr charge to teach soundly: so is it these mens, to obey theyr tea­ching. For, if they strayghtly requyre and of duty chalenge of theyr seruātes to do theyr commaundements, in tri­feling [Page]toyes, I will not say vnlawful, sometime in deede impertinēt to any part of bliffull life: them selues not to obey those that teache them faithfully such things, as tend to the cōmodity & profite as wel of the commen as pry­uate welth, & cōcerne y^e health of their soules: is the poynt of arrogant min­des, and altogether dissolute. Wher­in by no meanes, this our true and perfecte noble, whom in this booke (God helpynge) we will frame: shall once offend. But this is chiefely to be sought, that he remember what cal­lyng, and howe great a charge is cast and layd on him of God. For such as are noble are cleare and bryghte, on whom all mens eyes and countenaunces gase. And therfore so they walke in the eies and sight of al men, so are they viewed and pried at by euery one that no fact, no dede of theyrs may be darke because of theyr Nobilitye.

Where others of the commen sorte, styll lurke in darkenes, nor almost see anye, nor are seene of others.

A mole in the face stares, and is ap­parent to all men. In thother partes to haue a marke or mayme, not so vn­seemely. For it is not so fightlye, but farther remoued from the eies. Faul­tes therefore in a noble man, famous through the cōmendacion of his stock and linage, are farre more haynous then in other of the meaner sorte. As well, because they are more seene and marked of all men: as also, for that e­uery man the nobler he is, the lesse ought to be blemished with vices, and more embelyshed with vertues. Dron kennes, what fober man denyes to be a grosse and filthy fault enough in all men? But a poore knaue or a beggar to se dronke, is neyther new nor rare. So much the persō altereth the crime Why so? For, if a noble man sinne, he offends hurtfully to the destruction of many, and hales with him many ma­tes both of his cryme and payne.

Small doubt it is, but there were (yea often) amonges the Romaynes many cupshotten, yea and sometimes plaine dronken. Yet reade we, dronken­nes [Page]was onely vpbrayded to Cato, and that for onelye one scape. Yet onelye this his facte, is bewrayed to poste­rity, & cōmunicated with al mē. wher euen the double dronkennes of the o­ther sorte, is many times healed with silence, and buryed with euerlastinge forgetfulnes. For, some thinges men weene lawfull for the commen sorte, whych litle beseeme a Noble. It is permitted them sometimes to toye, to tryfle, to dalye, childishelye to obserue wakes and typple: when most expedi­ent were a Prince or Noble mā shuld be watchefull and sober. The presy­dent most worthy memory of the The­ban Captayne Eoamimendas, I can in no wyse ouerpasse: worthy of all Nobles that will steare in the common welth and trauayle in publike affayres and seruice, to be worne in common talke & imitated in theyr liues. Who while the Citesens of Thebes, gaue theym selues to feasting, banketting, and ex­cessiue cheare: was espyed by certayne his familiers, walkinge sole-sadde, and mourning, to trudge hastelye to [Page]arme him, & thence to hie towards the city walles. Which hereto he sayd he did y^e the rest might safelier be dronkē. For otherwise, if the captaines, yf the princes, yf the magistrates, in commē bankettes should licenciously partake with the rest, that Citye would soone berome (as the same Epamirumdas other where sayd), a flat and playne yarde, and in maner a stage open to the rea­des and inuasion of all men. Others, eke are lycensed by commen consente to sleape. But we read in Scipio slepe was erst muche noted: where other­wise he was both a moste watchefull and valiaunt Captayne. And ther­fore Cato the elder sayeth, that ofte by night he rose, and neglecting the care of housholde, cared for the state of the common wealth: thinkinge belike, it behoued him to wake while others flept. But hereof what doubt we? sith Iupiter in the seconde of Homeres Ilyades signifyed the same to Agamemnon, whē be sent him the God Slepe with this embassy.

Great shame it is al night a Prince to slepe, VVho should his realme & countrey care to kepe.

Men also commenlye, in all other thinges, in all estates, but chiefelye in the worthyest, awayte not so much what to prayse as carpe, nor what is wel done as what yll. For seing them bett in golde and siluer, their gorge­ous garmentes, golden fingers, and al about thē semely & wel besene: they wene theyr inward minde should aun swere theyr outward glistering: that they should surmount the rest in store of wisedome, quicknes of inuention, weyght of counsell, and sincerenes of lyfe. That from so fayre and comelye countenaunce, shoulde procede wyse talke, and spiced with learning. But if contrary wise, it happen that some one richely cladde, talke either filthi­lye or foolishlye: they crie forthwith with Diogenes. A leaden blade out of an yuery scabard. And (as graueli and farre aboue the reache of a Philoso­pher preacheth Salomon) a golden ring in the noset brilles of a Swyne.

Then commonly they whisper, and priuely mutter, that in that gorgeous cladde body indweith a bare and na­ked soule. Wherfore the auctority of the personage he beareth, & the great­nes of the burthen which he weldeth, ought to prouoke a noble and lofty sto make, to heare and lysten those thin­ges, whereby he maye worthelye and honourablye mayntayne his counte­naunce, and support his charge.

Which sith it is so, to ende at last this tedyous talke, I determine it the du­tye of teachers painefully to enstruct, and of Nobles lowely to learne.

But what may we deeme the cause whye neyther the one nor the other aunswere theyr charge? For very few se we, that willinglye geue theim sel­ues to this trauayle of teachinge: but as fewe knowe we, that taught, will vnderstand or amend. For, wereit o­therwise, we shuld haue greater store of true Nobles: that is, good, godlye, wyse, and learned. Truly, as sarre as I can reache, two stayes chiefelye let, that men in these dayes neither write [Page]nor speake frely of the state of Nobili­tye. First, for they vnderstand the vn­dertaking and compassing of so great a charge, to be farsd full of hardenes and peryll. For hard semeth it to him, whose stile is base thinne, and leane, to wryte ought of the Nobility, of the most honourable estate, of the flower of the common wealth. For it beho­ueth him, who speaketh of the highe­nes of that degree, and of suche men, to vse a stately, high, and loftye style: least the barennes and leanenesse of his talke, rather dishonour the maie­stye of so honourable personages, then aduaunce or honour them. Further, this cause requireth such one, as hath long trauayled therin, and long bene conuersannt with suche sorte of men, who hath groaped theyr mindes and meaninges, and nearely viewed theyr maners and vsages. Next, peryllous and scarcely safe thinke they it, chiefe­lye in these enuious and suspicious dayes, euen to whisper ought cyther of thē or other: whom vnlesse ye clawe they will kicke. And not, sceld bath he [Page]yll spedde, who writeth agaynst him, that may write his death. For there is almost none, no not of the commen sorte, who wonderful lye pryseth not him selfe. And, for the most parte, the more honourable we be, the lesse we list be admonished or reproued. For willingly wonres euery man to heare his owne prayses or vertues, and gladly beholdes y^e Table of his shape and seemelines: but his faultes, his spottes, his deformity hardly abydes represented to his eyes. And (for all blame beares with it a stinge) nor suffereth, nor licenseth others to control him. Whence it appeareth, that se­cretely men confesse this matter most profitable and necessary to be treated of, but for y^e frowardenes of the times had rather whist for dread of daūger. Howebeit that to dreade no cause, so they teache profitablye and gentlye. The profite pertaines to the taught And every man not altogether foolish abideth, yea coueteth, to heare the thinges that tend to his profyte and commodity.

Our Noble man therfore, will beare with him who holesomely counsayles him,Counsay­lors must be heard. and abide it so the nede requyre) to be euen chidde for his desert. Ther­fore, this I wishe and warne them, in this entry to my trauayle, frendlye to accepte aduisemente: that what good men tel them frely, not sharpely: that they take paciently not disdainefully. For, better is it dayntye eares be dis­pleased, then the whole body whyrled into hell. Better to be whipped with the tongue of man, than the rodde of God. To be smitten with a word, thā ascurge: to be scorcht with the smart of reproofe, than euerlastinge fire.

Such therfore must they banish from them, as wonte to tickle their eares, and feede their humours. Such must they entertayne and embrace, as cor­rect and chaste them. And loue rather the stripes of a frendely blamer, than the kisses of a training flatterer. Cho­ling here rather to learn to iudge and condemne them selues, than els wher to he are their deadly doome pronoun­ced, by him who is altogether vnpar­ciall: [Page]who neither acknoweledgeth nor respecteth anye personnes.

With whō neither welth ne honour ne maiestye maye preuaile, at whose barre kinted shall not pleade: Naye, where rather these goodes by missuse shall become euelles vnto you, and purchase ye the anger of the hyghest iudge, heapyng on you the seuerity of iudgement and rigour of punishment Nowe therfore, while time is, suffer your selues to be reproued. And, syth it is so profitable for you, let youre eares ware deafe at the hearinge of smart speache, rebukes, and checkes, with Socrates, Cato, Phocion, or rather with Christ [...] selfe, y^e noblest prince And if Nobilitye gyue ye greater sto­make, cō [...]ider this quietly & aduisedly with your selues. Yf ye are so muche pinched by theyr wordes, they are much more prouoked thereto by your odious dedes. Remēber it is of it selfe hard to be thral. Harder to a rude and vnlearned lord. Hardest & wretchedst, for a free & learned mā, to obey an ig­noraunt & slaue of sinne. Vnseemely [Page]is it a noughty & vicious persō should rule. Farre more vnseemely he should rule his betters. But most vnseemely and vnsitting of all, that a proud per­son, & impacient of reproofe should go uerne. Who after manye vilanous fleshly, shameful, & cruel crimes com­mitted, wil neither acknowledge the fault, nor once liftē his blame, but ra­ther cruelly rage against y^e teller. For let me I besech you, for examples sake imagine so muche. We must therfore hear the sage counsaylour Paule, say­eng. ‘Yf any brother be possessed with sinne, or erroure, let him be reproued with the spirite of lenitie. Wherin he rightly connsaileth either parte, both y^e reproued & the reprouer.’ For him he wisheth reproued & chastened. Of tho­ther he requires a meeke & gentle spi­rite. That not onelye he perswade what profitable is: but also couple w^e his teachinge moderacion and lenity. That he accuse none of wantonnesse, but reproue of duty & trust. That he chide not causeles, but disproue by reason, and that quietly, not angerly, or on Choler.

But to speake of my selfe, not I pro­fesse the performaunce hereof, linked with so great difficulty and peril: but finde my selfe enforced to faint vnder so heauy & massy burthē. For truly, y^e weakenes of my power, forceth me to confesse my selfe vnable, to compasse or atchieue so weighty charge. But this comforte, and refuge middes my distresse I haue, that the toyle which with the might of my witte and elo­quence I can not crushe, I will ende­uour with trauaile and deuoire if not to conquere, at the least to supple.

And, when for want of might I may no farther wade, I will yoake to my aide and strenthning, diligence. But peril herein can be none, as wel shall the sincere iustice and equitye of suche as peruse my writinges iudge. For, so will I handle & vse the whole mat­ter, as mindinge not to cut or launce any, but to hea [...]e and helpe all. Mea­ning rather to teache and perswade, than nippe or reproue. That the No­bility by reading hereof, may become better not sharper. For, neyther will [Page]I so much as name any man, but ho­nourably And ouerpauing the person note onely the fault, which of necessi­tie I must. Wherein yet so wil I bri­dle my talke, as buildinge on others iudgementes, not only bolstering my owne opinion: and so fortifye what I speake, with borowed reasons from all the memorye of antiquitye, as if not alwayes the fairest, at least the truest, I wil vtter: according to reasō, not affectiō. For hereto tendes al our talke in these bookes, that the aunci­ent Nobilitye, shaped by the monu­mentes of auncient writers, and dra­wen frō the paterne of Kinges, Prin­ces, and other auncient nobles, maye be raysed as a mirrour in a hyghe and playne mount, to shine and glyster to the mon of our dayes, That leauynge their newe & noughty way, they may be reuoked to the auncient discipline, and true prayse of theyr auncestours: Which my purpose, I hope none will condēne. Neyther truly make I with thē, who tore & bleate against the ma­ners of Nobility. Who perhaps, wer [Page]they not altogether wants h [...]mewar­des, Linces outwardes, might se theyr owne faultes, though lesse harmeful, no lesse haynous. Whiche parte do of hate & enuy. For theym selues placed in the basest degree, can not beare so bright a light. As erst the Owle accu­sed y^e Sun, not for y^e sunnes fault per­dy, but the weakenes of her night eye impacient of his light. Of true Nobi­litye, somewhat wrate Lucas Gauricus. truly in dede, but somwhat to bitterly licenciously, and roughly. More ciuily and modestly, entreated of ciuile No­bility, Hicronimus Osorius: an eloquent writer & a good. Of courting Augusti­nus Niphus, wrate a booke. Wherin he trauailed rather to proue him selfe a philosopher, thā a Courtier. And litle to this purpose, wherof we entreat: al though perhaps to that he ment fytly enough. But Gauricus, in this sorte, sharply & bitterly inuadeth Nobility. Many of thē (ꝙ he) most slouthful, ig­noraunt, & desperate persones haue I sene, & euen heard, & dayly heare: not ashamed to mocke manye vertuous & good men, especially the poore. Who [Page]falsely & wrongfully chalenge to them selues the name of Nobility. Nay, ra­ther, walowing in weith, proud, boasters, stubborne, froward, flatterers o [...] them selues, with proude lookes, and scorneful tauntes, in the open stretes, & por [...]hes, yea euery where, in y^e chur­ches, & common assemblies of the city, mock & fingerpoint euery vertuous & learned mā. Vaūting the selues y^e on­ly true nobles & gentlemē. Whereas they be altogether ignoraunt, & vnskilfull, viler, then Herdes, mulettours, butchers, smithes, or huxters. Two leggd asses, & euen vnproperly termed men: and so forwardes. For he is like him selfe in all the rest, seeming to of­fēd no lesse licēciously in his talke, thā they in their liues. But of me the true Nobility shal perceiue it selfe touched not so much as with a taunt or bitter word, thrugh al my talke: But rather honoured, so thei wil rightly weigh it He bites not y^• cou [...]salies. Nor hates but loues, who toileth & trauaileth for the true honour of Nobility: who tea­cheth and sheweth how gotten it may be preserued, howe lost, recouered.

For, that the auncient Image of No­bilitye is for the greatest parte rased, and cancelled in most: manye & those no light reasons perswade me. Which so much the more I feare, as I loue it more entierly. For I haue bene euer louinglye aff [...]ction [...]d to Nobilitye, and as I oughte, so I wonte to reue­rence it. As a thinge of nature excel­lent, through fortune honourable, to it selfe glorious, to others neither seld nor smally profitable. Wherfore, as other beautifull and honest ornamen­tes drawe and allure vs to them, and enforce vs to loue them in whom they harbour: so oughte euen the enemyes therof to loue and honour this excel­lent state of Nobilitye. But this my loue wanteth not his feare. And much I dread, least in these wretched and in fortunate times, wherin the best wōt soonest to rotte, emonges the rest this precious Jewell haue losse her former pryce. For so we se it (I wot not how) prouided, that whatsoeuer accident in mans life excelleth, the same both of­tener, easier, and filthier is staynd, [Page]than the baser or meaner. For what heauenly arte, was not in these later dayes miserably corrupted and defor­med? Euen Diuinitie the arte of all artes, and knowledge of al knowled­ges, yea, the Quene and Empresse of the rest, was she not maimed, in these former yeares? Was not then the aū ­cient sinceritye of reuerend religion, counterfayted and corrupted? But though the whole world hath more & more swarned out of kinde, eche estate and callinge degenerated: yet wot I not, if more then all the rest this hea­uenly nobility. which as it is brighter and nobler than the other, so through this contagion and infection of times seemes farther and deeper to haue slidden, from the auncient glorye of her dignitye.

Wherfore Noble men must so muche the more care and endeuour with all speede to returne to them selues: busi­ly to enter into the searche of them selues: and spedely to know, them selues [Page]their charge, and knowen diligentlye accomplishe. That so they may again recouer their estimacion or whollye lorne, or much diminished. To thys ende, decreed I in this booke to bryng some helpes to y^e better instituciō of it God graunt it attaine the fine I pro­pose. That yet at the last, the aucient & reuerend Nobilitye maye retourne, which with the glory of their wit and learning, and the fame of their dedes may darken & shade the praise of their aūcestours: and purge the vniust spot and staine from their honorable name Here present I them, a mirrour of ei­ther Nobility, the true & false. Wher­in they may clearely see them selues. And what Socrates, or Byas said of beauty, that I in my opinion may not vn­feetly saye of Nobilitye. For be they noble men in dede, & honourably bear them selues, & aunswere their calling & the fame of theyr auncestours: here haue they in this mirrour their praise bewrayed, that in this I mage ac­knowledging their vertues, they may inwardly reioyce: and the same main­tayne [Page]with well doinge euer. But, be they deformed, vnkindly, and base, here may they discerne theyr fault, ac­knowledge it and amend it.

But sith we promise to entreate of true Nobility,Diuision. gladly would I first of of al perfourme it. But it is requisite to fore, to cleare a fewe doubtes, for clearer plainenesse, and more euident proofe, which els would continuallye darken and clipse the whole matter. For there be neither fewe, nor those altogether euel, that thinke this No­bilitye ought be banished, & not borne in the commen wealth. And seynge some nobles infect them selues & the state, with ydlenes, pleasure, slouth, licencious liuing & euel example, and disdainfully, proudly, & arrogantly de spise their inferiours: think thei ought haue no place in a right and christian common wealth. First, therfore must we endeuour to discusse, whether they ought to be in free cityes and peoples Next, for Nobilitye is not sufficiently knowē to al mē, nor vnderstode whēce it rose, howt it growe to thys stoare [Page]and estimation, we must see what it is that commonlye is termed Nobili­tye. Lastly v [...]il I come to the poynt of the whole matter, and descriue the I­mage of true Nobility: shewing what maner thing it ought to be.

It likes me therfore,The first C [...]uestion. vnder Christes conducte, to beginne of that, whyche both wontes, and oughte firste to be questioned. Whether Nobles oughte to be borne in a wel ordred, and Chri­stian like gouerned state. For I heare it at this present muche doubted, and cald in question of many. And truly, all in vayne should I weare my while in framinge Nobilitye, if (as some thinke) it ought not be suffered. For some impugne it with wordes, some with weapons. Either parte thinkes it ought he abolished. With wordes fighte not onelye the Anabaptystes and Lybertines: but euen some learned hold opinion: that they deserue as vnprofi­table members to be cutte of. With weapons both ofte and sharpely haue the commens inuaded them. Neither presently obey them but so farre forth [Page]as forced with feare. Whom in deede they feare, not loue. Nay, certaynelye they hate. And when occasion serueth shewe their good will, by their force and violence. Wherfore, though for a while they cloake and dissemble it, as oppressed with force, yet fearet liber­tye peepeth vp at length and breaketh violently forth with commen wracke It is worth the trauayle therfore, to appease these factions, and spedely to preuent this ranckled priuye grudge, least they harme both theym selues & others. Truly, for mine owne parte, to speake indifferentlye, I agree to neither. But the iudgement of thone, I thinke neyther sound nor sober, but violent and cruell. And the commoti­ons and tumultes of the other, them count I most pernicious and abhomi­nable.

For first,Agaynst the ene­myes of Nobility to deale with reason with those, that fight with wordes, no soud reason see I moue theym, to thinke it commodious for the commen wealth to roote oute Noble men. For the Anabaptistes I ouerpasse, whose errour [Page]is already sufficientlye condemned by al mens tongues & pennes. Thother that wil seme more indifferent, while they seke (what in them lies) to ouer­throwe the ciuile difference & publike order geuen and established by almigh ty god, while they weakē the fonnda­cion of cōmen weales: se not, y^e almost vnwitting, they slide into Anabaptistry Who to seuerall degrees leaue not their estates & roomes: as though ther ought be no superiour: as al mē shuld in city and realme haue equall ryght: As there ne were some regymente by one only. Some by fewe nobles, some of the people, & some of the best. Which distinction almighty god who first gaue, & partly placed in y^e Jewes common welthe, partly permitted in others: with his second law and new league repealed not. Therfore, these wel setled who so remoueth, cōueigh­eth in disorder, confusion, sediciō, and discord. In Christ Jesus I denye not, al are of equal right. In whom, is ney ther bonde nor free, male nor female, Greke, Iewe, nor Barbarian. For with him is no accompt of persons. But foolish­ly [Page]reasoneth he who herby weneth to confound the certain & seueral estates to roote vp the limits & boimdes of nature, kind, nacion, kinne or stock. And sith by the lawes of god & man, by the law of nations & nature, ther is lord­ship, and seruitude, parentes power, houshold pollecy, mariage & discretiō of nacions, & people: albeit ther be but one like bond of al in christ, smal dout is it, but both there is, & ought to be difference of degrees. Some being no bles in y^e higher roome, other meaner in the lower place. And this allowed diuision to seke to disproue, is meere madnes. But, where they thynke it smal commodity to y^e cōmen welth, to haue Nobles, as they wert burthēs of the earth, combrous to al men, cōmo­dious to none: to affirme indifferētly of al, that truly & aptly may be appli­ed to fewe: is the part of men neyther discretely iudging, nor wisely weying what they talke. Howe muche more rightly & discreetely Cicero, though prouoked of y^e nobles, & therfore more partial, in his oraciō for Sestius, thus fayth ‘Al we good mē euer fauour nobility, [Page]Both, for it is profitable, for y^t whole state, that they endeuour to carne the fame of theyr auncestours: and also, for the aged memorye of theyr welde, seruing sires of the commen wealth, (though dead) ought muche to auayle with vs.’ wherfore, if any care or loue of cur owne cōmodity pricke vs, they oughte to be deare to vs, and beloued of vs, sith they profite vs. Of we will seeme curteous and mindeful of recey ued benefites, which theyr auncestors most plentifully powred on vs, on the common wealth: then ought we truly to fauour them, wishe, speake, and say wel of thē, for their forefathers haue pleasured vs. Of euer they may hurte vs with theyr power, they may in like maner pleasure vs. Of they maye op­presse vs, they maye also succoure vs. Of iniurye vs, they maye eke defende vs. Of hurte vs, they maye also heale vs. As power linked with malice, weyghes to thone parte: So, if hap­pely it light on a good plant it helpes: and wonteth not to endamage, but succoure. For as the Bee with hys [Page]sting, both hurtes and helpes to the working of hony: so the mightye and rule bearers, hord in theyr power not only hurt but helpe. And presētly who swarme in princes courtes but Noble men? Who their counsaylours but they? Who welld the chiefest digniti­es, Who are present? who presidents as wel in priuate as publike affaires, but the highest and noblest? Who lea­deth in the parliament, ouerweyeth in the lawe, sweyeth both farre and nere? Euen princes and nobles. Who bids, forbids, doeth, vndoeth, twineth vntwineth, al thinges? Who maketh and vnmaketh lawes? Who weldeth the commen wealth in peace, or wa­geth warre againste the enemye, but great and Noble men? Neyther anye meruaile is it, the rule of all is credy­ted him, who both through his owne prowesse, and the long continued commendacion of his auncestours, hath earned the report and estimation of al men. For, as it is in the bookes of the kinges, out frome the wicked issueth iniquitie: and of a shrimpe sprynges [Page]not a rose, or marigold, or of a bōd wo­man a freesonne borne: as sayeth the holye poete Theognis, so contrarywyse of the good ofte are bred good.

As witnesseth Horace. But commonly the childe erpresseth his sire, and posse city (if not chasigeling) couets to tread the steps of their auncestonrs. But here againste obiecte they a rable of theyr vices. Theyr insatiable couetise theyr incredible pride, theyr tickle cre­dite, theyr intollerable lust. Whereto I aunswere, these inconueniences, rest not in the thing it selfe, or nature of Nobilitye: but in the faultes and maners of some, not all: whome ey­ther the prosperity of Fortune dasles, or ryott and pleasures effeminate, or lycence and liberty marre, or yll pre­sidentes spyll, or plentye and aboun­daunce of wealth ouerbeareth, or troupes of flatterers tickle. Whyche easely maye ouertourne the hautiest, and stoutest stomake, from constancy of minde, and tryppe him middes hys [Page]race, to prayse. Yet emonges theym are some, who sayling by these Syrens suffer not theym selues to be wryed from the ryght. Contrary wise, there be eke of the commen sorte, that par­take with them in these crimes.

Who though poore, yet burne in co­uetise, and middes theyr beggerye, (which is most vnseemelye) looke lof­tely: and in theyr slauery become cru­ell, and mids the want of all thinges leacherous. Wherefore lesse mar­uay'e ought it seeme, in theym, syth they haue the baytes and entisemen­tes to vice, which thother wante.

Whereby it appeareth, that vicious demeanour groweth not in Nobili­tye, but cleaueth thereto: was not borne in it, but added to it, not pecu­lyer to it, but commen wyth others. But this is not here to be reasoned, whether they be naturally growinge in it, or forenly cleauyng to it.

But lamentablye it is to be sorowed, that in those they are, from whom they oughte farthest be.

And so much the rather must we tra­uayle & endeuour, not to extinguishe Nobility, but to clense it: aut to pro­uide it be better enfourmed. and so en­formed, as it maye be reformed, and so refourmed as it nede not be rased. Other theyr light and trifelinge rea­sons, I nede not here to mencion.

Which they account strongest garri­sons. Which I dense not to be trulye spoken of the holy ghost, but of theym to be aptly applyed: that flatly I nay. Impossible is it (saye they) ryche men shoulde enter into the kingedome of heauen. I heare it, and graunt it. But he sayeth ryche, not Noble men. But who be ryche, Marke the best interpre­tour of Mathewe, expoundeth. Those namelye, that place all theyr hope of safetye, in theyr wealth and ryches.

Who repose them selues on their sub staunce, as the god of this world.

Trifelinge also, is that they vouche out of Paule, to the Corinthians. That, not many mightye not manye Noble were calld. For, albeit the yonge man in the Gospel folowed not Christes calling: [Page]yet Zacheus called came. Paule, the lieuetenaunt, and Dionisius Areopagita, themperours courtyers beleued Paule. And th [...]h he saued Lazarus the pore he saued him yet in y^e bosome of Abra­ham, the ryche. For God would al men were saued, and calleth all to the knowledge of his truthe. Namelye of euery nation, as Iewes, Gentiles: of eue­ry estate and condiciō, as Kinges, Nobles, welthy, poore: of eyther kynde, as males, and females. Happie in dede he pronounceth the poore, but in spirite. And, both maye a Noble man be poore & lowe of minde, and a poore man of degree higher minded than anye Noble man. For there be euen proude ragges, and boasting beggery Diogenes sayd, he spurned the ease and pryde of Plato. But with other pryde, as elegantly replyed Plato. Wherfore thus we conclude, that Noble men ought be beloued for theyr own sakes for theyr elders merites of the commē wealth. That many of them are good bountifull, and profitable, that they haue passage with others into y^e kingdome [Page]of heauen, that they are called of God, to be short, that many Nobles are poore and humble hearted, and therfore ought not all be e [...]led and banished realmes, or abolished: but chastened, taught, and corrected, yf o­therwyse they demeane them selues.

With the people, whom ranckled grudge,Agaynst the com­mocion of the Com­mens. and long, yea to longe leng­thened hatred, hath armed agaynste the Nobilitye, we haue somewhat more to do. Although amonges those also be manye graue, quyete and pea­ceable men, who soyntly with vs so­rowe and syghe, to see so greate dys­corde in one ciuile bodye. Wherein, all the members linked, the hyghest with the lowest, the lowest with the highest, and coupled with the louelye knotte of Frendeshippe and charitie, mought yelde most plenteous profyte both priuately to euerye one, and vni­uersally to all. Whiche separated, se­uered and sondred by dissencion, vn­ioynt the state, and rende it in wret­ched [Page]sorte. It happeneth neuertheles, (I wot not by what fate, or compuisi­on of what furies) it happeneth, I saye, that twixte the lordes and com­mens is but simple concord.

So that, thoughe for a while they liue together, linked with league of ami­tye, yet time not longe after bewray­eth priuye grudge, and vttereth what hate, what malyce, lurkes within.

As betwixt the byrdes called Acgathili and Acanthilides, wryters reporte so great hate: that theyr bloude, though violentlye mingled, yet forthewyth seuers it selfe, and skippeth a sunder. So ofte it happeneth, eyther for the cruell destenyes enuye vs peace and quietnes, Or, that so our God list to plague mortalles, or that Noble men most mightelye worke iniurye, or the commen sorte moste frowardlye per­fourme theyr dutyes, or for all theyr wylles so conspyre: the fates of hate: God of Justice, the Nobles of pride, the others of murmure and enuye.

The matter is euident. This preache the vproares of Israell agaynste Moses, the rebellion of the Romayne commens in the hyl A [...]entine, the ciuile warre of Silla, and Marius, the commotion of the hindes in Germany, and Switzerland, the sundrye tumultes and conspiracyes of England, and in forrein realmes many other, and those most bloudy battels. What nede many wordes? Sith euen the dedes them selues in number such so massy, so many sedicions, vproares conspiracies, witnesse to true what I say. Smal doubt is therfore, but it is so. That henceforth it be not so we must prouide. Wherto much materi­all is the trauatle of the guides, and teachers of the people. Whose dutye and parte it is, so to temper both their tounge and stile: as by their bookes and sermons, they be not enflamed to warre, but perswaded to moderance, pacience, peasablenes, and lenity. that so eyther part be clawed and smothed as weapons maye be layed not taken: theyr furies quenched not kindled.

Of the duties of Nobility, whē talke [Page]of that order so requireth, I wil speak hereafter. Now must I commen with the commens, & those that weene that degree ought be extinct, and Nobility wasted with might and maine. But, al to sharpe a medecine is warre. And farre feeter for bruite beastes than men. Though in these desperate and bloudy daies to slaye and be slayne, is accounted but a feat of Mart. Where what a man is, what humanity, is al­together vnknowen. Whereof I saye litle. It is to copious a theame. wher­to is farre easier to finde entrye than ende. Onely thus much I saye. It is a sharpe and sower playster, that so sal­ueth the sore, as it maimeth one halfe and murthereth the bodye of the com­men wealth. How much better were it to imitate Surgeons, than tormen tours? The surgian heales the sore, the tormentour quelles the man.

And neither doth he cut or seare hym when he may cure him with potions, with oyntments, or with gentle plat­sters. It is no medecine, that in hea­lynge the sore parte of the commen [Page]weale harmeth the whole and sound. Naye, it is a butcherye, and beastlye crueltye. They rather heale it, who prouide that by good order and lawe­full meanes, the yll be punished.

Or (if neede so require, yf at home e­monges theym selues bate can not be quayled and quieted) procure those to whose power it appertayneth, to exe­cute the authoures of sedicion, not rage on the whole order: But mowe of yll heades, as infections and pla­gues of commen weales. They must euer thynke, warre booteth neyther parte, that it is vnfeete for men, much lesse to be tendered to our owne coun­treymen, scarse to our enemies.

Ought ye not rather in this case, to debate these Questions with youre selues? Ought ye not thus to reason? what ye entende? whereto? Gaynste whome? wherefore? who ye are that mynde it? Whiche let vs a while se­uerallie consider. What wage ye?

Warre. Whereto? For proposing euel ende, ye must knowe, the wicked pre­tence proues worst to the worker: and what ye come for others shall lyghte on youre owne heade. This hyghe estate, truly is maruaflous brickle.

For, it is in maner planted and mounted on heyghthe, open to the blastes of all enuies flawes. Wher­fore, yf for ye enuie the honoure and dignitie of Nobilitie, and coueit your selfe to clime and scale their roomes ye attempte this bloudye meane: and more respecte your priuate glorft, than the manifeste hasarde of the common wealth: and so cruel and bloudy murther theym in field: this bee ye moste assured: who liueth not con­tente with his owne estate shall rue to worse. Who climes the hyghest shall sinke lowest. Wyth what mea­sure ye meate to other, with the same ye shall be repayed.

But if to good purpose in claymynge and demaūding right ye wage warre if in fighte ye demeane your selues, moderate & mercifull: yet, if you who in hope of victory first toke the fyelde, be conquered (as commenlye it happe­neth) in how wretched state your goo­des, hope, fortune, libertye, and lyfe consiste, is none so ignoraunte who knoweth not, so blinde who seeth not But admitte ye conquere, yet is not your conquest so gaynefull as harme­rul, in bearinge armes agaynst those whom ye ought haue shielded. For, with whom warre ye? whom wyth­stand ye? Whom assault ye? Whose bloude and life pursue ye? ye murther perdy a noble man. Whyche when I saye, much more say I then a priuate or loane person. Of god he hath what so he hath. For all power, rule, digni­tye, paternity, Nobility, Nouity, auncientye, descondeth from that authour and geuer of all heauenly and earthly giftes. But whom prouoke ye? whom inuade ye? perdy either your naturall countreymen, or your liege lorde, or [Page]some ciuile magistrate. To slaye your owne countreiman nature and reason gayne say. Sith, for ye are in one com­men wealth as one barke: togither of necessity ye must either suffer wracke or escape. To laye hādes on your liege lord, to whom ye owe all honour and reuerence: the ciuile lawes beare not. To violate the magistrate, all lawes both of God and man forbid. Whom then prouoke ye? whom assault ye? perhaps good men. For emonges thē are of the best. But good men euerye man not altogether yll, will loue & re­uerēce. But be they euel? Patience is the armour and conquest of the godly This meriteth mercy when any cause les suffereth sorowe.

But let vs also consider the cause that enflameth the commens against the Nobility. For if in a wrongefull quarel they runne to weapon, it is not onely iniurious but wicked. Admytte the cause be iust. Yet nedeth the peo­ple naturally to rashe, rather a curbe to rayne and bridle theyr stomake, thē a spurre to prouoke it. For, euen iuste [Page]causes haue their courtes. And ought rather be decided and determined by the doomes of graue and sober, than the blades of madde and furyous men. For noughte els is warre, than meere fury and madnes, wherein not aduice, but rashenes, not righte but rage ruleth, and rayneth. We must therfore trye all meanes, ere we flye to force. We must fight with reasons not weapons. We must runne to the counsaylours. But in common cour­tes (say they) is no place for the poore. Then must we appeale to other iud­ges, to higher offices. But here also hard it were the better monyed should spede worse in iudgement. Then must we flie to princes: whose charge it is to ende controuersies, and to heare and determine ehe causes of the poore But here likewise, for the entryes to princes are narowe, for theyr officers wonte to be corrupted with brybes, nor poore Roscius may haue passage to Silla for Chrisogonus: (saye they) not ac­cording to iustice & truth, is the cause balanced. Whether then shall the [Page]poore afflicted miser turne or winde him selfe? By prayer let him appeale to god. whose eares open not to plaint, to fauour, to affection. whose court is holy and iudgement ryght.

Wherto nor couetise scales, nor enuy hath made breache. To him must he present his wofull supplication: hym must he beseeche & entreate. He is the stout auengeour of the poore. He will maintayne their cause agaynste the highest & noblest. Al means must they rather seke, thē fight. For though the Nobles ouercharge thē with iniuries, crushe them with laboures burthens and perilles: he yet that discharged y^e Israelites of the yoake and bondage of Pharao, of the clay and bricke workes: he, euen he, with the same hyghe and mightye arme, with the selfe same a­uenging and assisting hand, which is not now abridged, shal deliuer y^e wretched and afflicted people groaninge & sighing to him. Whereto he nedeth not any fleshely or mans arme. Forasmuch as he is the lord of Hostes, and puissaunt of power.

But nowe to the last part, who art thou that encounterest Nobility? The naked people of number huge, of po­wer none, pollicy lesse, who mids thy warfare, neglectest thy home & coun­trey thrift. Wher while thus ye striue thy foe with power and pollicy, thou with noyse and number, ye minyster cause and courage to the forreine foe as Aesopes kite, to rauen and rent ey­ther warriour: both frogge & mouse. Whereby, euen the meanlye witted vnderstand, howe manye mischieues, howe sundry slaughters, how infinite heapes of calamities ensue this glo­rious and gaye conquest. But [...]ho warreth? The people which is (as say­eth Horace), a monstruous many hea­ded beast. As I thinke, a rashe multi­tude, raging enough voluntarily, yea vnteased. Whose warres, and causes of warre are, and euer ought be suspi­cious. To whom in no wise, ought the gouernance of so weighty charge be credited without a guide, without a prince. But let vs nearer viewe who warres. A priuate person, to [Page]whom belongeth, nor iudgement nor vengeaunce. He beares armoure and weapon, wherewith who smiteth, pe­risheth by the deuine doome. He war­reth who beareth no publike person, who is not enspired with the spirite of God. Wherfore neither can I allowe the attempt or enterpryse of the cluste­red commens: nor fauour the successe though fortunate and flattering. For the attempt procedeth from the euell spirite and furious Atc: and the suc­cesse though in semblant happy, plon­geth yet many, as well conquered, as conquerours, into infinite calamities ruineth as wel the priuate as publike weale. I knowe some both of oure time and also of the aunciente Ethnike sages, are of opinion, a tyranne maye iustly be slayne, and takē from amids the quick. But me otherwise to think diuers and sundrye weightye reasons moue. Which for this present I ouer­passe. For we entreat not nowe of ci­uile obedience to magistrates, nor of rebellion agaynst the prince or coun­trey. Onelye we enquire, what we [Page]oughte determine of their opinion, which thinke Novility oughte be roo­ted from all ciuile societye, and from emōges mē. But this suffiseth to that wherof we entreat, to know, y^e no pri­uate man ought lay violēt hâdes on a noble mā, sith it is not lawful to mucther a tyranne, a commen & open ene­my, a tearer & tormenter of his owne subiectes. For if we but slightly ouer­run y^e monuments of antiquity, it wil ealely appeare, that euermore (excep­ting fewe) their endes were vnfortu­nate, who, not armed wyth commen authoritye, but enflamed w^t a maner zeale of defēce of their countrey, attēp­ted the ouerthrow of tiranny. I speak of priuate men & fewe. Not of y^e vni­uersal consent of all degrees, neither of the most & best. To whom it belon­geth to minister iustice, to bridle tirannie, to maintaine y^e lawes. Sicilye was euer counted the hold & arche citye of tirants. An Iland tossed with many & sondry motiōs. Hit wheras many, vnder shew of vertue & piety to their coū ­trey sought to restore to livertye, they [Page]were not onely frustrate of theyr ende but, both doubled the tirants cruelty, & purchased thē selues vntimely ende. Emonges whō I may reckē those ex­cellent wights, farre drowning al the rest: Diuine Plato and Dyon. Of whom the first, sailing thither to chalenge it frō the seruitude wherto it long laye thrall: nor atchyeued his purpose, nor escaped him selfe. Thother for he con­spired the death of that Tyranne, or rather Arche tyranne Dionisius: was en­dited and condemned of treason.

What should I menciō Apollontus Tya­ncus emprisoned by Domitian thempe­rour, for conspiring against him with Nero? What should I vouch the mur­therers of Cesar? Who though they accomplished their purpose, yet in y^e compasse of one yeare, all died? What should I mencion Zeno Elcates, the con­spirer of Nearchus death? Who tormē ­ted with manye deathes, was at laste enforced (to vtter som partners of his [...]ōspiracy) guililes to appeach y^e tirāts nerest frēds: so to procure their deaths These are forren & heathen presedēts. [Page]For religious paternes, and of oure priuate practise, wherwith we aboūd I passe by. Vnpunished shal they then wage warre agaynste theym, who in peace are ornamentes, in warre bul­warkes? Who at home with connsell abrode ayde with armes? For such is, and ought to be, this wel ordered No­bilitye, whiche we maintayne. For droanes we prise not, that awayte to spoyle the laboures and hony of bees. Who of others sweat and bloud, pur­chase their commodities, & feede their pleasures. Suche is that counterfayte Nobilitie. Which Diogenes (not vnfit­ly) termed the cloake of mischiefe. God shield it I should fauour or defend.

But, as in elder peares, Menenius A­grippa (an eloquent oratour & famous, for commendacion of thanncient elo­quence) appeased the teased mindes of the Romaine people: and, either from the hil called Sacer, or (as others wyl) Auentine, reuoked the enraged multi­tude into the citye, with a fable of the iarringe limmes: so thoughte I it my parte, to vse these fewe reasons, to re­payre [Page]concord, and sowder discorde.

To perswade the people not to thinke all Nobles grosse paunches, liuing on others sweares, theym selues labour­lesse: but with their labour, counsayle, and seruice, to minister to the other limmes what they want: to purueye for the body of the whole state, that it fall not in vncurable maladye: nor more to be maynetayned of the com­mens then to mainteine them. Deui­ding and spreading life bloud through euerye limme: graftinge on the good manye benefites, whereby both they may liue, and wel and blisfully lyue. Wherefore, if those groundes of oure defence, which I haue afore layd, wel vnderstood and minded, they will of­ten roll in their mindes and memory: they wil easely abhorre from warres and sedicions: if they rightlye ponder eyther the cruelty and beastlines of it, or the trifeling causes wherwith they wont to be stirred thereto, or the ende thereof, or the honour of Nobility, or them selues and theyr estate. Be this therfore the summe of all. That the com­men [...] [Page] winne the nobles with seruice: the nobles the commens with bene­uolence. They obey lowlye, thother rule sauourably. They striue to excell in iustice, thother in obedience. They know they gouerne fres men not bea­stes: Thother thinke them selues not bonde by nature, but by the lawe and Gospel aydes and helpers. They rule with counsel, thother be prest w^e their trauaile. They performe theyr charge with the practise of their wit: thother with y^e toyle of their body. Either rule and serue other in the lord. That so they wholly apply & frame thē selues w^e swete consent to the glory of christ, the honour of the realme, and theyr owne safety. So shall there be no care no thought of armes. But they shall melt theyr speares to coulters, theyr swordes to syckles. And not onelye suffer eche other to liue and be: but by enterchanged benefites, helpe, and (with burnynge Charitye) embrace eche other. But my purposed ordet hales ne otherwhere.

We haue shewed as we first meant [Page]that Nobility is not onely to be borne but euen a singuler gifte of God.

Not to be banyshed or displaced, but preserued and reuerenced. It is there­fore consequente to searche, what is Nobilitye. Wherein, (as power will serue) we will expresse the whole na­ture Natiuitye, and branches of it.

For al which be and wil be accounted nobles knowe not the reason of theyr name. Neyther hath it lyke fence in all tounges. For it is wellknowen, this worde (Noble) is indifferent, and doubtefull: taken in eyther parte good or yll, deryned of the Gramma­ryans from the Verbe Nosco, whyche signifieth to know, Wherby properly it rests in him who is famous eyther for vertue or vice: or for anye other cause renoumed or notable. But this large and general sence men leaue.

And cloase in narowe boundes the ef­fect of Nobility: and applye it to the br [...]ghtenes of byrthe, & pleuty of pof­fessions. For euery estate & ciu [...] soci­ety, though it consist of many m [...]bers neuertheles was parted of y^• Romaines, [Page]after the maner of the Athenyans (who seuered it twixt the Lordes and Hus­bandmen) into two degrees, & formes as it were. Accordingly it may emon­ges vs be deuided into the nobles and commens. Thone part containes the Prince, and men of greater porte, and substaunce, surmountinge farre tho­ther in liuing and lynage. Thother the inferioure multitude, the meane and baser sorte. But though we com­menlye terme those Nobles, who are next to the Prince and counsayle: yet the Latines name him noble, whom y^e Italyans, Frenche men, and we otherwise terme a gentleman. Whereby it ap­peareth, this worde with his largest reache contayneth not onely the high­est estates and callinges: but whatso­euer worthies, of what so euer power or place: as also the Germaynes name theyrs Iunkers and Idelles, which soun­deth in englishe Idle men. These also both be, and may (not vnproperlye) be named men of the best sorte. For albe­it the best be of the best sorte, of what­soeuer estate or degre: yet is this name restraynd to welth and dignitis. Cicero [Page]writeth those are of the best, who ney­ther are noysome, nor of nature euell: not furious, not stayned with any do­mesticall spot: who support and main­tayne religion, lawes, their allies warfare, the realmes honour, the pri­uileges of magistrates, the authoritye of the counsayle. Noble men therfore, so they flye vice and folowe vertue: so they serue not so muche theyr pryuate as publicke honour: so they be indiffe­rent and vpright: as in fauour, authoritye, and power they passe, and finde most prosperous the pleasaunt gale of fortune, and beare the chiefest charge and swaye in the common weale so both be and termed are the worthyest sages, the noblest members, & stayes of states. The Hebrewes terme them men of name and fame, most famous and farthest knowen, and cristall (as it were) and white clothed. Whereby they signifie free and Noble men. For such emonges theym is the weede of the free borne. For the. 70. innterpre­ters translated it in the olde bibles fre borne. And as the Latines call them, [Page]great and lordly men: so also the He­brewes: in place whereof, the. 70. in the fifte of Ieremy, write bright, gorgeous noble, and lordly. And generaliye of the name, thus much may it suffise to speake.

But though to aunciente house this name of nobility be commonly & most apity knitte:Th [...]e sor­tes of Nobilitie yet of those that are ter­med nobles, are thre sortes. First, tru­ly and properly those, which are noble through their house & aūcestors. Next they that are of theym selues noble.

Thirdlye, a meane and mixte forte: of such as partly rise of them selues, and partlye claime from their forefathers as the source of theyr nobilitye. Of which let vs seuerally treat.

The noble by birth, the Grecians terme a wel borne man:Nobilite, of [...] seuered from y^e ras­call fort, by the renoume & auncienty of his race. Though it maye be also interpreted noble, as appereth in that booke of Cice [...], whyche he entituleth Cato the el [...]er. As in scoffe (op he) they say Themistectec twited a Scriphian, Vp­brawinge him, he mighte thanke his [Page]countrey, not him selfe of his glory.

Neither truly (ꝙ he) were I a Scriphid wer I base: nor thon glorious al hadst thou ben an Athenian. For so Plutarche reporteth it. In like sort, the excellent learned man Theodorus Gasa translated that selfe word. Whereby the Greekes wonte properlye to note a famous or glorious mā. In the Hebrewe likewise they are called glorious & renoumed, translated of the. 70 (notable). Iude, in his epistle termeth thē glory or maie­sties. Which emplieth men heaped [...] maiesty & glory. Other names are a­monges the Hebrewes, but taken to the worse. Of which we wil sprake here­after if place serue. The Latines [...]rme him a gentleman. Feetly counterfay­ting y^e Grekes. Betwirt wel borne, gē ­tle, & kindly, this difference is. That the first signifieth a man famous and commēdable by birth onely. Thother two note not only a gētlemā, but also a german, fre borne and natural child Who besides the name expresseth eke his parentes the wes. Those Nobles which by others gained the name and dignity of their Nobilitye, are named [Page]by Appyan well fathered in imitacion of the latine word, Patricii. Whose fa­thers, flourishing with the grene glo­rye of their deedes, lefte their children heires & partners of their praise. That such were of the lordes & Senate: Liuye witnesseth in the life of Romulus. But though at the firste onelye suche were counted noble: yet after wardes, who so gaue armes by theyr auncestours, were honoured with that title. Yea the common sort, had they once borne the chayre office.

The source of Nobili­tie.But that the of spring of Nobilitye may more cleare and plainely appeare we will more plentifullye pursue this purpose. Best, and briefeliest, in the first of his Rhetorikes, Aristotle descri­bed Nobilitye, and deuideth it in two partes. Thone he termeth commen or ciuile: which farther spreadeth. Tho­ther nearer, and more proper. The commen is borowed of some famous nation or citye. as heretofore, to haue bene a Greeke was more cōmendable then a Barbarian. And an Athenian, than any other Greeke. Which Plate a wise [Page]man, reckneth amonges his happes. To be borne at Roome nobler than at Tibur or Lilibeum and at this day to be a Florentine, Parisian or Londoner, is ac­counted more glorious, then to haue bene borne in a base village. More no­ble also it is, to be in maner borne of them selues, & in the countrey, where they abide: then to be ghestes or stran­gers as the Athenians boasted by Isccra­tes reporte, in his Panegirica. That o­thers as the remnanntes of dyners mixtures, were raked into sundrye corners: But they not other whence came into Attike: but were from e­uer borne and bred there.

Which to signify, they wimpled their heades with caules wroughte with golden Gressehoppers: for as Gresse­hoppers they crepte oute of the soyle, which they fiil inhabited. Whyche mencioneth also Hicronimus Osorius. It is also more noble, to descende of the auncient people, than of any late foū ­ded city. As the Athenians vauted their auncientie beyond all memorye. For which also, the Acthiopians contended & [Page]soughte to proue theym selues fyrste borne. The Arcadians fayned, they pre­uented the Moone. Thegiptians also and Scithians, were parteners of the same strife. For men weene much material to their owne, theyr countreyes glory. And therfore wōted to demaūd at meetinges as oft is in Homere.

Contrariwise, it is the commen re­proche to be infamous or base herein. For, Antigonus twited Byon (infamous through vncertayne parentes) cōtemp tuously, and contumeliously, with the same verse of Homere.

Whom wittely he aunswered in this wise. Whē thou entertaynest archers thou enquerest not their race: but who cleaues the marke, him deemest thou best. So neither demaunde (ꝙ he) whence I am, but what I am. It was reckned also a sport and mayme in A­nacharses, y^t he was a Scithian. For they were counted barbarous and cruell, [Page]dronkelewe, & wilde people. The phi­losopher acknowledgeth the iuste re­proofe of his countrey: But auoydeth it saieng, in birth not maners: yelding him selfe a cithian home not manerd. And this is that commen & farce spred Nobility. But hit we terme proper, is deriued from the auncestours, and ta­milie: either principal famous and notable, or fruitefull as well of men and women, or of either parte free & wor­shipful. Whereby suche as can recken theyr graundfathers, great graunde­syres, & higher, are accounted noble.

This at the first became famous, ey­ther through power and richesse (chieflye, if they imployed theym to the suc­cour of the poore and nedy, yf lordlye and liberally they powred on the peo­ple, if they foūded churches, colledges, hospitalles) or grewe throughe theyr vertues, godlines. coūsaile, wisedome Justice, (whereby Cicero in his second booke of duties, thinketh kinges wer first created: by whom rose lordes, and Noble men) or through nobly & glori­ously atchiened enterprises, hastayles [Page]conquetes, or whatsoeuer els stirreth admiracion, or is highly prised. For as Adam was the firfte parente of the Hebrewes, & the original of mankynde, and before the floud, as a Patriarche, or auncestour, to the godly fathers Abell, Seth: after the flowde Noe lefte three Imps, from whom all the socieries of mankynde descended: Then Abraham the honoure of the Jewes, nexte Isaac, and after Iacob rose, from whome issu­ed those twelue tribes, the auncientest lampes of the Iewishe Nobilitie: (of which auncestours, the Iewes chiefelye vaunte, as in the Gospell and other where, not seeld we read) so emonges the Greckes the progeny of those fyzsre and famous captaines, Cecrops, Acacus Hercules, Achilles, and other moste re­noumed princes, were adopted to the succession of their name and glorye, with the generall graunte and agree­ment of all Greece, with the allowance of the mouthes and mindes of al men So muche furthered theym to honour the memorye of theyr worthye aunce­stours, whom thankeful posterity ho­noured [Page]only not as goddes. For those whom that Golden age bredde, they surnamed worthies, halfe goddes and spirites as witnesseth Hesiode. And probable it is, that from the posterities to great loue and admiracion of their auncestours, the most part of ydolatry fyrst flowed. As we read in the. 38. of Esaye, Senacherim worshipped a certain Patriarche, or patrone. Whom Cirille the bishop of Alexandrye, commenting on that place, writeth to haue bene some of his parentes, or graundsircs in lineall ascencion. In like maner, emonges the Romaynes, who helde the fourth and last monarchye, the monu­mentes of weighty authours witnesse the like spreading and commendaciō of kinred. To noble men also were certaine honourable obseruaunces al­lowed, bothe by princes and cities to honour them. As humble curtesy, vp­rising, haring of the head, chiefe place commen pensions in their liues. Magnificence of monumentes, tombes, fuveral oracions, Images, Chappelles, and Epitaphes after theyr deathes.

Emonges the Parthians, ridinge they executed commen and priuate charge: and thereby were discerned from the commen sorte. Emonges the Ro­maynes, the golden ringe thoughe sometime it were geuen to knyghtes and others: yet properlye emplyed fre­dome by discent. Which that nobles ware, Liuie mēcioneth. Who writeth in his ninth booke, that the election of Cn. Flauiu, (made free by manumis­sion) chamberlaine, the Senate so much disdaynd: that moste of theym surren­dred their gold rings & robes. Which to haue bene accustomed chyefelye to be geuen such, as had stoutly, passing­lye, or couragiouslye attempted or at­chyeued oughte: appeareth by Ciceros fyfte action agaynst Verres. ‘For ofte (ꝙ he) our captaynes, theyr enemyes conquero, and the commen wealth hap [...]elye gouernd: guerdoned theyr Scribes, with gold ringes. But thou after what atchieued enterprise, what daunted enemy, durst assemble y^t soul­diours to rewarde them? For neither onely thy scribe with a ring, but euen [Page]the stoutest, and most vnlike the L. Ri [...] ­brius of singuler manhoode, power, & authoritye feedst thou with a crowne, chaye, and trappers.’ Whereby it appeareth sundrye ornamentes were allowed to stoute and valiaunte capi­taynes. Hence also first came the ti­tle of armes, whereby Nobles more and more gilstered. These in aunci­ent times were grauen in courtes, or in the vtter and princelyest partes of theyr palayces. That Children might gase on the Images & titles of theyr auncestours: and not onely read theyr vertues, but learne to counterfayte them. That gentlemens Images wē ted to be borne at theyr buryalles, Plinie is a weyghtye witnesse. ‘In the courtes of our auncestours (ꝙ he) wer Images set, not the vauntes of forren workemen, nor brasse or marble monsters, but formed shapes of ware pla­ced in euery Armarye, seruyng to accompany the tombes of all that house. So ateuery mans buriall, was presēt all his race. And Stemmes ranue by braunches to the shapen Images.’

Whole Tablines stuffed with registers and monumentes of their actes in cō ­men affaires. Wherby it is euident, that as these Images of their sto­cke, so kept they registers of all their no­ble actes, and praise worthy offices.

Armaries, Plinye calleth those, which Po­libius nameth closetres. Housen wher­in these Images were hourded and reserued. For he also, toucheth thys bearing and shewe of Images in bu­rialles. And in his fift booke, defineth an Image to be a likenes, cunninglye counterfaytinge the proporcion of the countenaunce, shaped with maruay­lous arte, and shaded with coloures and payntinges. Tabline, was a chest of those Tables, wherin were contei­ned the writinges and monumentes of theyr deedes. Stemme, properlye in Greeke, a crowne. Here signifyeth the race of the stocke, and degrees of dis­cent, seuered with braunches, & lines Which custome hath continued to our times. So as nowe, not onely kinges and free cities: but euen euerye Gen­tleman hath his petigrees. Cities in [Page]times paste (as we nowe) wonted to stampe in their coyne certaine Ima­ges. They of Delos or Athenes an oxe. Moreouer the Athenians maydes, or night owles. The Corinthians chicken, The Peleponnesians snayles. Whence grewe these latine prouerbes (for Ser­uius also king of the Romaines vsed the stampe of an oxe) to stoppe his mouth with an oxe. The night Owles flye Snayles ouerrunne vertue and wyse­dome. And as of beastes coynes: so noble mens armes were borowed. As of the Lyon, Leopard, Gryphon, Dragon, ey­ther grene, white, or black. The Horse the Beare, and others, wherewith our gentlemen are honoured. There be who deriue them of herbes & flowers As the white or redde rose, and others like. Which they enuironne with certaine feate poesies, and deuises.

Which would they folowed as feetly These wonted they to graue on pil­lers. Nowe, it is counted worshipfull to place them in theyr housen, stretes, churches, walles, and funeralles.

These call they armes, for they are [Page]the price of their dedes. All which for­tes of out warde shewe and vaunt, the nobles of this age are cōtent to beare. But, the endeuours, duties, and prac­tises thereof leaue to others. But, not these only honoures descended to posteritye, and the whole house: But euen the names of theyr auncestours So, as nowe, they vse not so commen­lye theyr owne names, as other sur­names. Whyebe fyrste were geuen them, eyther for some rare happes, or for theyr diuerselye disposed maners, or the affections of theyr myndes, or bodyes, or for theyr sundrye skylles, theyr large possessions, theyr manye conquestes, or of the soyles they inha­bited. As emonges vs. Buckingham, Bedforde, Northfolke, Somerset, Suffolke, Stafforde. Dukes, Earles, Barons. Whose proper names are either vnknowē, or vnworne in cōmen talke. These also in times past descended to their heires As appeareth by Plutarche, where he writeth of Cicero. ‘who firste bare the surname of Cicero seemeth to haue flo­rished with chiefest praise. For y^e sur­name, [Page]was not onelye not neglected, but euen gredely continued of his po­sterity.’ And Cicero him selfe in y^t dream of Scipio, imagineth Scipio thus spea­king. That name shalt thou winne vi" thine own purchase, which now thou" claimest by discēt from me. We neede not here to heape examples, sith it is of it selfe most euident. Other priuile­ges, as diuinacions & such like, maye by diligent reading be foūd & noted in Liuie & other authors. To our purpose it shal suffise, to haue said thus much. This is therfore the firste branche of Nobilitie. Adourned with Images, welth, ware pictures, petigrees & glo­rious titles, by their fathers & forefa­thers But much it is to be feared least what Cicero plaind of his coūtremē in his passed yeares; y^t same may rightly be reported of these. That sometimes some proue worthy to succede their aū cestours. But the most seke to cōpasse this. That so much honor may seme due to their auncestours, as both their same was satisfied, and theyr heyres payed of the ouerplus.

An other sorte of Nobility there is, begonne of it selfe: famous throughe no commendacion of house or armes, but nobled by her owne dedes and in­dustry.Newe sprong Nobilitie Such the Romaines termed new men. Which least I seeme wythoute booke or witnesse to affirme not con­firme: Appyan a Greeke writer of the Romaine history, witnesseth with these wordes. Them call the Romaines newe who not by their auncestours, but of them selues waxt famous. As contra­riwise, Gentlemen we terme those, that haue continued from the begin­ning of the nation, whose auncestors were neuer bonde, nor euer staynde with treason. But though it be great to descēd of great house: yet greater is it to be great him selfe. And better to begin then end thy house: as also to be good then borne of good. As writeth that worthy Gregory Nazienzent. Hit behoueth to ouerrunne, not lagge be­hinde thy kinne. Therfore whē base­nes of birthe was vphrayded Sostra­tus, he aunswered he ought be so much the more estemed, for his house began at him. Likewise Ciccro refoyneth to [Page] Salust. Who, where men thought af­ter he had borne office, he would haue auoyded or chaunged the name of Cis­cero: vowed to endeuoure to yelde it more famous, then euer was the Catos Catulles, or the Scaures. Whiche howe he perfourmed, well can thankefull posterity witnesse. Neyther are these newe nobles any lesse prayse worthy, then, the auncientst: if with right foote and by streight pathe, they aspice to honoures. For thother are in maner feathered with others plumes. These with their owne vertues: They as y^t yuie & vine leane on others proppes. These, as the fishe Trochus is reported to engender with him selfe, and con­ceiue: so be the first begetters of kinne name, and honour to their posteritye, But more to cleare the matter wyth experience, became not Romulu of a heard, the king and founder of the Ro­mayne state? Or did not Tullus Hostilius a yong Impe, busied in entending his shepe, from his countreye coate scale the heyghthe of y^e Romayne scepters? Happd not the like to Tarquinius Pris­cus sonne of Demaratus a Corinthian mat [Page]Marchaunt, a bannished wight? dys­cended not Scruius Tullus of a Niefes wherfore as of the kingdome, so like is the accompt of other offices: whiche were also emparted with the common sorte, as the Tribuneshyppe Counsulship, and others. M. Valerius Coruinus a No­ble man, witnesseth the Consulshyppe was communicated with them: As the price, not of bloud, but vertue. And therfore reede we, that euen from the plough and Houell, many were called to the Senate to the Dictatourshyppe, and stateliest honors. Truly to passe by prophane matters, God it is, who rayseth the poore from the dunghil as Saul, Dauid, and others. Many, that on­ly arbiter and dyspenser of humayne happes, maketh of slaues Lordes, of Rhetors, Consuls: from base estate and fortune, lifteth to the highest roomes and houors whom him lifteth. which well knew that Pagane Poete Hesiode. Who, in the entrye to his treatise of workes and daies, mouing this doubt whence it proceded, that some were Noble, others base: answereth. Of the [Page]wyl of God.

The third and Noblest sorte,Nobility matched with ver­tue. is not simple, but compounde of eyther, con­sistinge of suche, as with theyr owne trauayle, gistes, and ornaments, am­plysie, and encrease thenheritaunce, of the recetued name from theyr aunce­stours. So, as they be not onely parte­ners of theyr Nobilitie, but resemble them also, in imitacion of their dedes: Not only euening but euen surmoun­ting them. Which, that noblest Socra­tes prince of Philosaphers, see meth to haue signified, when, demaūded what was Nobility, he defineth it, the iuste and euen temperature of body and minde. So, as they ought be not onely meanely, and so muche as suffiseth other, endewed with goods and gittes of the body: and commended with for­reine graces, eyther of fortune, na­ture or kinred: But further oughte couple hereto, the care and tillage of the mynde, ioynte with theyr earnest endeuoure. That not in body only, but minde, they bee well affected and by sposed.

And besides the prowesse of theyr aū ­cestours, purchase thē selues commen dacion of wisedome. Of this Nobili­ty in the fourth booke of his commen welth, forespake Aristotle. Sayenge there be three thinges that stryue in ciuile equalitie. Liberty, wealth, and v [...]rtue. But y^e fourth which we terme Nobilitye, is compounde of the two last. For Nobility is lōg lasted welth linked with Fortune. And so for­wardes.

These therfore are, in my opinion, and as the ciuilians seuer theym, the thre sortes of Nobility. Yf any other be, they maye rightlye be referred to these. For Plato, as wryteth Diogenes La [...]rtius appoynted foure kindes. The first, of them that descend of good and vertuous parentes. The next of suche as had princes, or noble men theyr progenitours. The thirde of those whose auncestoures were victorious in warres, or crowned for conquestes Which three may well be comprised vnder our first parte. Namelye, that Nobilitye, whiche descendeth from [Page]others. As we imitatinge Aristotle haue parted it. The fourth sorte is of such as flourishe with the glory of theyr owne dedes. Which parte is al­so subiect to our second braunche.

Nowe therfore, our first promise dis­charged, the name of Nobility discus­sed, and examined, the source thereof shortly shadowed, and her partes ex­pressed: Let vs agayne peruse theym more distinctly, and aduisedly, & more at large ouerrunne them. And searche as we may, and can, which is the true Nobility. For, both it nedeth searche and enquirie: and is of it selfe moste worthy consideracion. Because not al that haue attaynd the name, haue eke the thing: But they are deemed to haue both name and thing, who clime those steppes, wherby rightly we scale to dignitie. For to be a noble man is no base or rascall honour. But the e­speciall gift and honourable ornamēt of God. Therfore, of him to whom greater charge is credited, more du­ties are required. As Christ by para­ble taught vs in the Scriptures.

That, as he is most famous and flo­ryshynge, in reuerende names; ho­nourable titles, bright Images, Ry­ches, Pompe, and power: as euerie man vpryseth to him, and yeldeth him place: as hee is saluted, loned, honou­red, and byghlyer prysed then all o­thers: so, hee endeuoure to excede all others, in true honor, and Nobilytie. And, as in these forreine goodes: so in thother greater, hee excell the multi­tude. Therefore, as Nobles weare ry­chest roabes, so are honorablest and princeliest qualities required of them. Unlesse they wyll betraye the state, that god allotted them, and therwith­all, theyr dignitie, their natiue Nobi­litie. For it is not geuen all men, nor boughte by Prynces fauour, neyther commeth by the benefite of nature, nor as perquisite, happes by chaunce and casualtie: but euen geuen from a­boue, by the prouidence, and dispensa­tion of god. Who plongeth lowe the lofty from theyr seate: and lifteth vp the lowely. Who, with hys ryghte­wyse eye regardeth mans life, and [Page]wyth hys mightie arme and heaūen­lie becke, guydeth and gouerneth it. To whom ought Noble men impute, what so they haue. And, what haue they, not receiued? if receiued why glory they, as they ne had receiued it? Wherefore, sith in dyscourse of the firste Question, we haue shewed, that this Nobility groundeth on the lawes bothe of God and man: and therefore, ought not be abolyshed, but preserued and honored: as a profitable, necessa­rie, and honorable ornamente of the whole body, both in warre and peace: And, in the seconde parte of our deuy­sion, opened what it is, discribynge the name, nature, original, and parts therof: it resteth cōsequently, to speake of the thirde parte namely, whiche is true Nobility, and what maner thing it ought be.

Whiche may the better be knowen and vnderstoode,Counter­faite No­bilitie. if first we carue out counterfaite Nobilitie, and hit which tracketh the true by stelth: leaste wee mistake the forged for true, and the [Page]false semblant of truthe, deceyue thē simple. For herein misse many. Part­ly, of the Nobles them selues, through selfe loue and conceyt of them selues: And partly, the commen sorte, in re­uerencinge whom they oughte not, or cherishing those vices with flatterye, whiche hit behoued to reproue wyth aduisement. Fewe be there, that bold­ly speake the truth. Whereby eyther Nobles may know theym selues: or others learne to knowe the Nobles.

As truly to Nicocles sayd Isocrates (the father of eloquence), of tyrantes and heauy lordes. For where priuate and poore men their enemies accuse, their frendes warne: fewe, as they oughte reproue those, that passe the reste in dignitie. So who moste behooued to haue bene best enfourmed: rest neg­lected and vntaught. For few accom­pany them: and suche as are conuer­saunt with them, or fauourablye flat­ter theym, or dreade with franke and christian freedome to reproue them.

But, though noble mens eares must not be launced: yet must they accu­stome [Page]to listen not onely swete sawes, but true withall. Therfore, that we maye the better discerne the true No­bles, the apishe & chaungelinug must be discouered.

Vaynest therfore, and plainely mis­cheuous are those,The su [...] ­dry sortes of coun­terfayte Nobility. moste vnworthye this name (wherto most impudentlye they entrude theym selues) leude cut­ters and roysters. Who in theyr vt­ter behauiour, apparayle, practises, & talke, counterfaite a maner Nobility. In deede affecters of Nobilitye, and counterfayte riche. With whō almost now euery corner throngs: whō, who is so madd to recken in this number? Of whō Salomon sayeth in maner thus Ther be some (ꝙ he) y^t hauing nought yet counterfaite riches. For suche are they. Of no substaūce, lesse possibilitie basest birth, desperatst life, most lauish tounge. For gaine, sometime Gnathos, somtime Thrasoes, Importunately boasting their brauery, as he in y^e Comicall Poete. Craking their cheualrous facts (in nede none) their fraies & scarres: w^t open mouth & false and forged lyes. [Page]These walowing in excesse, maskd in sutes and coloures, with impudēt face and hard fauour, not walking, but ro­uing: belche forth no meane matters, but w [...]rres, Princes, emperours, Ci­ties, castels, realmes. And as Taurus a smal bird, by report of writers coūter­faites y^e Ores lowing: so these misers of no substance, no ability, no possessi­ons, stoope to no base or meane mat­ters, but commē only of high, princely and lordlye affaires. And least oughte should want, scrape to them selues en signes of honor, & faine thē newe foūd auncestours. And rake to thē for hyre traynes of slaues, or rather troupes of felons like them selues, to flatter thē, to shoute at al their iestes & sayenges, who liue of the spoile, snatche, praies, and robberies: thriuing only by theft, forced by this bloudy gaine and cruell vauntage, to maynteyne theyr false and copper Nobility, theyr lewd fame and wretched glorye, purchased from the beginning by lies and theft.

Which thre halfeny gentlemen I rec­ken not in my Scrowe. As in whom resteth not so much as one ioate of ho­nesty, [Page]much lesse of Nobility. For nei­ther are they borne of good house, nor commendable for any glimse of good­nesse. Wherfore, as Noble noughtye packs let vs ouerpasse them.

Vaine also, and counterfaite is their nobilitie that are priestly, and church nobles. Of whom yet,Churche Nobles. more question is, then of those other. For, they are authorised by the cōsent of many, and Nobility of house, & y^e maintenance of their great might. For commēly they are cleped lordes and Princes. Nor in the churche onely comber the chye­fest seates and sees, but coueyt to rule the world in temporal and ciuile cau­ses: wage warres, carye with theym courtes and traynes. As not in name only Nobles, [...]ut passing the mighty­est princes, in fertilest landes, plenti­fullest possessions, and largest domi­nions. Who would they had rather chose to enryche them selues of theyr owne enheritaunce and patrimonies: thē of church profites. which sith they earne not by sowing, plāting nor preaching: neither ought they reap. Mani­fest [Page]is the Popes pollicy, and well knowen for what wile, theyr Roomishe father and enstaller, him selfe lord of lordes, hath placed them ouer so manye pro­uinces. For who doubtes, but in set­ling these in so many realmes, & kingdomes, he sought his owne honour: & prepared him selfe a meane to mayn­teyne & stablishe his vsur [...]ed dignitie? Truly not altogether the best, proui­ded their parentes for their owne ho­nour, much lesse for the churche, who stoared w^t plenteous & abundan̄t issue: their yongest either banishd into cloi­sters, as Abbottes, or Abbesses, to rule y^t Conents: or procured to be created Cha­tions or Bishops. Bishops I saye, not to ouersee their flocke, but to forese theyr priuate gayne. So, as they become the lordes of their bodies, not feeders of theyr soules. Which for it is vngod lye, oughte greatly of the godly to be plained. For hit is wisked, ought by y^t magistrates to be punished. But I can neyther disgrade thē of the name, n [...]r title of Nobilitye. But by what title, clayme, or rightfull interest they [Page]sue to be registred in this rewe of No­bles, which here I searche, truly I see not. For albeit the maner and phrase of commen speache, hath otherwyse determined: yet▪ if more we credite the authority of sound learning, then vi­cious custome, or the truthe, then va­nitie and the termes of the rude & ig­noraunt people: of necessitye we must eyther iudge them belyed priestes, or sclasidred Nobles. For if abandoning the world and their birth right, they fled to the church: in that station and calling must they abide. For one sole man must vse one onely callyng. And the first right surrendred to late it is to reclayme. Both at once they can not be. Syth God and Mammon, seruice, and lordshippe, are no lesse contrary, then fyer and water. Neyther, well gouerneth he a spirituall charge, who entermedleth wyth the wo [...]lde. And therfore is it in some comm [...]n weal­thes decreed, that none shall beare at once two offices, or practise two sun­drye craftes. For eche dutye claymeth not the halfe, but the whole man.

Except perhaps they wil be like those Serpentes, whyche are sayde to be double headed, and tayled. For, so are these double faced and chaunge­linges, sometime for auantage eccle­siasticals, otherwhiles Nobles, as mē of al degrees & sortes. For to such (not vnworthely) Erasmus resembled them. But by their pacience, this state as euel, & opiniō as false ought be rooted When the Apostles stroue for lordship whē y^e .ii. brethren sued for the right & lest place in the kingdome of heauen, our sauiour otherway wried their ambitious lustes and earthly mindes.

Nor graūted what they fondly craued nor flatly denyed theyr [...]est. But see­med in maner to yeld, & yet in yelding to roote out the affe [...]t [...]ō. For expressely he forbids to practise lordship or domi­nion, affirming it to belong to heathē princes. Also the deuiue Peter (whose vicar the Romaine bishop hath lately found him selfe, & opened these a more honourable gappe) in his epistle in no wise wil that Pastours or byshoppes rule ouer their flock, Yf the Apostles [Page]refused to serue the lordes Table, the better to entēd preaching: and posted this as a great let and hinderance to others: yf Paule whollye to applye the preaching of the gospel, in maner for­sooke y^e ministraciō of baptisme: wher yet those offices are sibbe, & in maner ioynt: truly these most repugnat char­ges, wherof eyther chalengeth & occu­pieth the whole man, with what bond they may be coupled: or how two such contraries maye be applyed to one: none I thinke may easely ymagyne.

Or yf he conceyue, shall not so easelye confyrme. Neyther by any indifferent lawe, oughte one selfe member be a thrall of Iesus Christe, and a worldelye lord: a teacher and preacher of God, & retainer of y^e world. Nay rather, suche a compoūd creature, is neither-simply to be termed a noble man, nor simplye a priest. Put to speake truly & indiffe­rentlye, is a neuter and mongrell. ye wil happely saye then, shall the bishop or minister be so cloggd to preachyng of the Ghospell, as he maye entende nought els?

Trulye, I denye not, they maye also entermedle with some forreyne af­fayres, as Moses and Ambrose to deter­mine doubtfull controuersyes, some­times trauayle in embassyes, pur­chace peace, ayde theyr Princes with theyr coūsayles, & frequēt iudgemēts. But these seeld happē & are no neces­sarye burthens. But to preache & pro­claime y^t newe couenant, is their pro­per & appointed charge. And woe to thē, if they preach not. They chalenge also benefices in maner by title, for their auncestours gaue thē. But other was the mind, other the entent of the geuers. Namely, that feruent praiers should incessātly flame▪ religiō spread & y^t kingdome & gospel of Christ be en­larged. To other end if they tended, il foūded giftes wil fayle. And so the ge­uers mocked of their rewarde. What so they willd, thus hath God decreed. And albeit this ecclesiasticall nobility ground on Popes patentes, whereby, both entry is forclosed the poore, to y^• highest Ecclesiasticall degrees, and no­ble descēt required of either parēt & all [Page]theyr auncestours of suche as shall at­taine them: yet sith they haue neyther godlines, nor learninge, their pled­ges or warrantes: Vnworthye are they of this aucthoritie, all were they able to vouche infinite descents, and petigrees of their race, and those con­firme (as they wont) with their sacred othe. Why then? (they will happely aske mee) may not a noble man take charge of soules and preache? What els? if, when he beareth the simple person of a preacher, he disgrade him selfe of the honour and pride of his Nobil­litie. For they ought not bee debarde that kind of life, if faithfully they wil discharge their charge. But of ghosts, shades, and Images, my talke entrea­teth, that deuoure the Church goodes. Who accompte it vilanous to learne, vile to teach. Such Archebishops, Arche­pryestes, or Archecourtiers, wee remoue from this rewe of Nobles, as counter faites and Newters. For as Moyles engendred twirre a Horse and Asse, are neither Horsse nor Asse, but, a mixt and myngled kynde: euen so are these. As [Page]begotten not of men but Goddes, who not onely descended of aunciente house, but also imitate the aunciente meane and maner of life. As sayeth in Virgyle Dido of Aneas.

I thinke (and not amisse) he is Impe of Gods For, the childe is the fathers Image, and in maner him selfe: if as in body, so in minde, hee endeuour to resemble him. Neither is the phrase straunge in the Scriptures, to terme Maiestrates and Nobles, gods, and Sonnes of the highest. We ought also to prise aun­cientie, sith god for Abraham, Dauid and theyr fathers, shewed mercy to theyr Children: as appeareth euydently in the bible. And ofte we loue the Child, as the fathers mirrour. But so muche the more if many his auncestoure, continued the selfe possessiō of praise with continued worthines. Where­fore, some force to prouoke loue, bathe the aged memory of wel deserued pa­rents. Nobilitie also, hath her seuerall ages, encreases, and degrees. Wher­fore, as we reuerence age: so, sith this springeth, spireth, prospereth, and bud­deth, [Page]hauinge her blossoms as youth, and ripenes as hoare beares: truly, we ought and wonte all to honour this hoarie auncientie of Nobilitie, lasted through so many ages and families. Chiefely, if the moare of vertue be not cropped, but dayly rooted deepelyer. But sith Cain Cham, the children of Ia­cob, and after Absolon, Rhoboam, and o­ther ill sutes, sprong of holiest rootes: and the heires of Scipio, Fabius, and Ci­cero, proue that Children treade not alwayes theyr fathers steppes, but oft degenerate: and commōly it happeth, the most chaungelinges, moste crake the simple glory of theyr auncientie, them selues suinge no sounde or per­fecte vertue: therfore, for it is lawful, it liketh and behoueth mee, somewhat to reason, not against antiquitie, but the vaine confidence of antiquitie: not of myne owne heade, but the auctho­ritie and iudgementes of learned Sa­ges. And as hitherto wee haue pulled nought from it, so henceforth wyll we adde nought to it, but his owne, least with borowed plumes, it seeme to it selfe.[Page]What other then, shal we terme aun­cient bloud, then goare, or putrified? as sayde Gregory Nazianzene to lyke effecte.

Lo, hee termeth them putrified, fe­stred and rotten in theyr graues, from whom these boast theyr birth. And Ci­cero in scoffe, rightly termed Pisos aged and aunciet Images, smoakie. Vaine therfore is this vaunt of auncient No­bilitie, if nought els renowme hym, but his worme eaten stocke, or emptie rewes of drawen descents. For, who walowes in this errour, and weenes him selfe greater for this shade of for­reyne happes: is not to bee reckned a­mongs the Noble and honorable, but rather to hee deemed a foole and fond­linge. But happely you wyll reply, theyr race is not only auncient, but riche and mightie. But therin others eyther matche or passe them, and yet not therefore are accompted Noble. And ryches ofte are blocks, mids the [Page]race to our nobility, and ofte forslowe the voyage to this true glory: at least not alwaies further hit. Further, it may perhappes be douted, who were those Nobles, & glorious worthies of whom these Impes descended. Truly what maye be sayde, I see. But howe I maye playnelye speake withoute offence I doubte. For what more frowarde or stately, then he who see­meth to him selfe happye? Who is hardlier taught, the who dreauth him selfe most fortunate? Plato refused to geue the Cirenenses lawes, for he coun­ted it most difficult, to order so welthy people. Neuertheles, both for it is true & profitable for thym to heare [...], neces­sary for me to speake: my conscyence mouynge me to vtter hit, I must not conceale it. I wishe therfore, all No­bles would call to minde, & reape vp out of all memory theyr auncestours, & progenitors. So shal they finde per­haps a petygree & genealogy, wherof they ought rather blushe thā swell. I styrre not this mixen. Let thē selues searche the chronicles, and theyr pety­grees [Page]and marke yf theyr aunce­stours haue hene murtherers of theyr brethren, as Cain: reprobate as Esau: of whose house the booke of Genesis rec­keneth many dukes and kinges.

Whether they haue beene rouers as Nimrod the great hunter: or tyrantes, as Nero, Phalaris, & others: Idolaters, as Thare the father of good Abraham: persecutours of christian religion, as Iulian the Apostate, or effeminate & vi­cious persons as Sardanapalus. Whose children or posterity, haue small cause to vaunte the honour of theyr aunce­stours, but rather to lament their mi­serable state. And declynyng theyr by­pathes, them selues sue better. And so begynne to rayse to theyr posteritye, some paterne of true Novility. What sayeth Chryste of the buylders of the Apostles tombes, and such as decked the monumentes of the iust? Sayeng, Had we liued in the times of our fa­thers, we would not haue bene parta­kers wyth theym in the bloud of the Prophetes. Therefore ye are wyt­nesses [Page]to your selues, (sayeth he) that ye are theyr children, who slewe the Prophetes. Fyll ye also vp the mea­sure of your parentes. O ye serpents vypers broode, howe wyll ye escape damnacion? If is to be feared, least he wyll saye the like to theym, Who proude the bloude of theyr bloudye syres, vaunte such armes, as purcha­sed by the spoyles and slaughter of the good, not honour but dishonour them nor ought to rayse, but quayle theyr stomackes, and abashe and shame them. God in Esaye calleth the Israe­lites, traytours chyldren and froward broode. This therefore, (in maner) was the head of the Iewishe Nobili­tye: These be also the ofspringes of ours. For to come nearer, were they not Gentyles from whom thys: Gen­trye descended? Lyued they not with­out god, without law, without Christ [...] Whiche infamye, thoughe it be com­men to all, and farther of, nor pecu­lyer onely to Nobles: yet pertayneth to theym for it is vnyuersall.

And thereto this oure talke tendeth, that such as aduaunce them selues for byrth aboue others, may linke theym selues in this commen lyne with o­thers, and be included in one selfe throng with euery abiect person: not exempting them selues from this contagion for theyr Nobilitye. For suche as nowe weene theym selues nearest god, are the rēnauntes of this wicked & accursed brood. So are they of y^e con­demned sede of the Gentiles, as al y^e rest Which had bene a simple Nobilitye, had not y^e precious crosse of Christ our noblest sauiour legitimate them. But nearer yet let vs touch this spring and roote of these noble twiggs. Let vs in thought ouerrunne & peruse all coun­treies of christendome, & see if in anye of them, appeare anye sparke of true and auncient gentry. Italye the queene and empresse sometime of the rest, a­bundant in pleasures, commodityes, and sundrye blessinges of God, howe large it was, howe litle it is, yf anye will but recount: he shal finde no sure signes, no euident steppes of any aun­cient [Page]Nobility. Not whole townes, not waste playnes, retayne their for­mer and principall names: no pure & whole families remaining. The no­ble housen eyther ruined, or decayed, and newe and barbarous vpcrept.

For that part, whiche sometimes the Apulians, Samnites, Greekes and Campanes inhabited, is now the realme of Naples Latium, Capaigne: Gawle, termed of Cesar behither the Alpes, Lombardye, Flaminia, Romandiola: the riuer Liris, Galirian: Tici­nus, Pauie: Egnatia in Apulia, Iuuenacium as Raymond Martian notes. So as al­most at this daye, it retayneth no ioat of antiquity. For it hath bene the pray & spoile of al nations. Not only in el­der times mixt w^t mongrel and forren people: as the Greekes, Oenotrians, Mor­getes, Sicilians, Ausonians, Aborigines, Pe­lasgians, Auruncans. But also at last, w^t al Barbary: the Lombards, Saracens, Hunga­rians, the factions of Gwelphes, Gibellines & others, wherfore, what meruaile is it, if the priuate antiquity of Nobility & famous housen be decaied? what shal I say of Spaine which suffred like cala­mity [Page]what priuy murthers they committed w^t what barbarousnes thei infected it, both I sorowe to thinke, & abhorre to recount. Neither the Germaines, al wer they of others moste free, & leaste open to inuasion: were altogether quite frō forren bondage: from the Romaines, frō the Gentiles, & Pagans. For the Sarmatians and Gothes, wild and cruel people, they bred in their owne bosomes. What I speake of thē, I wishe also vnderstood of others, professing now the name of Christ. But to what ende tendes this farre set searche? To reuoke noble mē to their original. That such as be aunciente, maye with attentiue thoughte peruse the puddle whence fyrste they sprong. Wherin, whether they waile the ruyne and subuersion of their na­tion, or sorowe the ignorance, cruelty, impiety, & shame of their auncestors: Let them looke nearer thē selues, not boast thē. For were they euel, no cause haue the good to vaunt them, al were they kinges. Neither thinke I them or oures rightlye termed Nobles, yf they bee infected wyth the contagy­on, [Page]of theyr oryg [...]nall auncestours.

For, neyther are theyr auncestours therfore not vicious, for they were ac­compted Nobles: for they were clothed in [...]purple, and golde. For so, should Nobilitie be, (as sayd Diogenes) a vaile of vice. For, as neither ye accompt the Aspis, or Scorpion harmles, for ye see them pent in [...]golden Cages: so neither ceasseth vice to be vice, though dysgui­sed with golde, and other giftes of for­tune. As singulerly sayd Epictetus. As an Ape is an Ape all weare hee a gol­den Robe: so neither power so altereth men, but they perseuer aye like them selues. For, vice is neither masked nor honored, with the weed, but rather bewrayed and descried. But, admitte they were auncient, riche Noble and good withall. Yet, nought worthe is it, to haue good auncestours: but to be him selfe good, is some what, or rather all. For, as eche man beares the paine of his owne misdeedes, so are children esteemd by theyr pryuate vertues. Nor so muche skilles it, who or what man begat thee, as whom and what thou [Page]proue and shewe thy selfe. For com­mēdeth it ought thy deformity, y^t they were faire? Or supplye theyr ryches thy want? Ought auayleth it thee in sycknes, that they were stronge and helthy? Truly, as their beautie, helth, and richesse, in thy wants serue the not as thine: so neyther arte thou by them, eyther richer, fairer, or helthier. Wherfore well may the vertue of thy auncestours, be in deede a president & spurre to prouoke thee to wel doinge, that begotten of good thou mayest cō ­tinew good: but by theyrs gainst thou no prayse, but thou practise lyke. Sooner shall thy noughtynes clipse theyr Nobility, then by their worthi­nes it shadowed, or thou made better. This Nobilitie, is others gifte, not thine▪ who otherwise thincks, is fond & witles. Euen as, who seing the em­perours or others fleete at Genua wold weene they were his, & therof boast to the beholders. Or as y^e fond riche man Caluisius Sabinus, who (as mencioneth Seneca in his Epistles) thought him selfe learned & mindful, for he kept learned [Page]and mindful seruauntes. And deemd he knew and vnderstode, what so they knewe. To these may worthelye be sayde, that in theyr Fathers armes lyeth all theyr gentrie. As Herode a Sopbister reproched an insolent craker that all his Nobility laye in his shoes. For then vsed they amongs the Ro­mans, on theyr shoes an Iuory orna­ment, shaped like a die. These be ther­fore forreine happes, and placed in the rashe dealynge, and fauoure of for­tune: withoute the man, indyfferente both to good and euyl. And oft it hap­peth, that as of an yll Crow commeth an yll egge: so contrariwise, not seeld, of stoute, modest, and godly parents, descends a Cowarde, shameles, and wycked Sonne. Whiche well declare the discents of the Patriarkes, & kynges of the Iewes. This proues also the rewe of the Romaine Emperours, who so wyll by leasure pervse them. This sheweth Valerius Maximus, in his title of vnkindly children. Wherfore, not cōtrey, not parēts, not aūcestours geue Nobility: but other whence it [Page]comes, nor is a thing so rife by al men to be gaynd. Godly saide Hierom. Not to haue bene at Hierusalem, but well to haue lyued at Hierusalem, is worthy prayse. So, not to be borne of good pa­rents, but thy selfe to be good, is com­mendable: and worthiest al praise and honor. Be therfore this Nobilitie of birthe beloued, reuerenced, and este­med: be it a steppe and staier to true Nobilitie: it selfe sure, true and per­fecte Nobilitie is not. Hereby is it ap­parent to all men, that auncient fami­ly, or discent, some what aydeth to this perfectiō: but those natheles are farre wyde who customably and common­ly are counted Noblest.If new no­bility bee the true gentrie. Let vs now come, to the sodayne glory (as Plinie termeth it) and newe Nobilitie. Whiche, sith it groweth and clymeth of it selfe, semeth somewhat nearer to approche the tipe of perfection. Or may at least, aswel as the auncientest. But contrariwise it proues, and other wyse haue others practised tofore.

Who by fraude, guile, and deceit, like ill meanes, or princes blinded iudge­ment, [Page]bought or purchased Nobilytie. Of whom presently swarmeth eche where, a great or rather to great mul­titude. Emonges the Romans, infa­mous was the name of newe men. And not once reproched to Cicero, and chiefely layde in hys dyshe by Salust. That he was perdy, a new man, come from Arpinas, late found, and sent for: and a Citezen lately grafted in the Citie of Rome. But, would we had all Ciceros: who with trauaile, industrie, eloquence and wyt, would open them selues pathes to the attayninge of ho­nours. But alas, other engines vse they to breake vnto it, other mynes and priuy policies, to winne this No­bilitie. Who, as they enter by a po­sterne, and wyndowe on the wronge side: so once entred, proue more skilful in vyces, Couetise, pryde, ambition, crueltie, then the auncientest Nobles. As though, farre lōger they had lear­ned in the Schole of noughtines. So blynde fortune theyr promoter, them promoted blynds. Whom it conten­teth not, to preferre the yll, vnlesse [Page]with aucthorytie shee arme them, to make them more harmefull. Then at length honor bewrayeth him, and de­tecteth hys couerte ragyng Tiranny. So, who of all other weakest and most contemptuous, powerlesse and bloud­lesse, barer then any Irus, coulde hurt none: they once armed wyth power, office, and honoure, as a Caruynge Sworde: learne not onelye of theyr owne nature to stynge, but also with the edge of their aucthority mur­ther good subiectes, farre their better, godlyer, & nobler. And, for as hongry flies they crall to oftice, of the bloud & beggery of y^e impoueryshed, sucke the welth they wante. So these wretched vpsterts, creping first on ground, & (as rightly Cicero termeth thē) euen bratts of the earth, begottē of them selues so­dainly with theyr brightnes, port, and might, dimne the aūcientest families. Whose lamps once quenchd them sel­ues inuade the regiment. Is this true Nobility? Is this the pathe to glory? Hither may they aspire, who neyther dare vouche theyr father, nor can their [Page]Graundfather? theeues of all both dy­uine and humayne thynges? or dare such, claime the gloryous & excellente title of true Nobility? Not only riche, but good muste they bee, who seeke to attaine this prayse. Whiche hardely may they bee, who so vntowardly hie to ryches. For, true is that sayenge of the Greekes.

And therfore, of Silla erst in his ruffe one demaunded how hee might be ho­nest, who hauing nought by discente, possessed so many mens substāce. For hardly proue they good, who sodainly proue riche. Record of Plato in the fifth boke of his lawes. which Salomon also, of al kings y^e wisest proueth. Saieng, hasty enheritance at first, is neuer for­tunate at laste. An other dysease eke haue these new nobles. Namely pride and vaine boast. whiles they loke not whēce thes rose, but what their coffers bourd. Mē say, Bucephalus y^• stede of A­lexander the greate, vnsadled & vnhar­nessed, would suffer his keeper to sitte him. but once furnished w^t his princely [Page]bosses and trappers, abyde none but they kynge hym selfe, snuffinge and snortinge at all others. So is it wyth these new found nobles. Then whom poore and base, none more modest, peasable, or crouchinge: but once enri­ched, whom late they honored, forth­with dysdayne and spurne. Suche is the chaunge of theyr minde with for­tune, as hee were not hee, who late he was. But let them loke to it. I ac­cuse them not of pleasure. How be it, he accuseth not Nobilitie, who seuere­ly entreateth the euyl, to procure theyr amendemente. Nor speaketh hee al­wayes yll, who telleth the trueth, though freely. It wyl bee worth theyr trauayle, bothe agayne, and agayne to beholde from what puddell they sprynge. For so God chasteneth Saule; vpbrayding him his late basenes, and mysery. Wast thou not (ꝙ he) anoyn­ted Kinge ouer all the tribes of Israell; when thou waste but simple euen in thine owne sighte? and thus lykewyse to Dauid, whome entierly hee loued. From the sheepefoldes toke I thee, to [Page]be prince of the people. Let such ther­fore as are dronken and reele with the meathe of newe honour, and for­get the dungehil whence by God they were raysed, to the type of honour: cal to minde theyr fathers coate, and first homely cradles, and not be ashamed of the basenes of theyr natyue byrthe.

If by theyr owne vertue and commendation of wisedoms, they attaynde to this higher room, as many at this day both singulerly learned, and guyltles and sincere in life: then are they truly most honourable, and worthy a high­er state. But if eyther by force, as ly­ons, or fraude as foxes, basest and ob­scurest misers be enriched by others goodes: (Ile speake noughte bitterlye of theym, onelye this I saye,) as they quickely climed through others wrack and misery: so shall they stoope, or ra­ther totter as spedelye. Marius the ty­ranne grewe to suche pride, that he forgat he had bene a smith. But mark the ende of his sodayne glorye. In one daye made Emperoure, the nexte he seemd to raygne, the thyrde he was [Page]slaine of his owne souldiour, with the sword him selfe forged. Loath I were to boade vnluckly to the Nobles of our dayes: but this I wyshe, they would ofte and earnestlye consider, whence they rose, and howe, what way, what passage they hewed theym selues to Nobilitye. Cicero in his oracion for Roscius complayneth, that vnder the conquest and empyre of Silla, the best Oratours? and chosen counsayloures slayne and beggered, arose a familye called Grucii, whote accusers, as after Cannas fyeld. And likewyse, the Capi­tons, Chrisogons, courtyers of Silla, thir­sting others goodes, and lyues, waxd sodainely myghtye: and triumphed o­uer the riches & possessions of noblest counsayloures. Who coueit to knowe what late happd in Naples, Millan, and other realines, cōsulting Chronicles no­thing domme therin, and listning tat­ling fame, eche where pratlinge of it: shal learne that Barōs, Erles besides others worshipfull, were fined partly w^e the losse of life, partly w^e banishmēt That straunge ghests succeded, or ra­ther [Page]roi [...]ted into y^e aunciētst possessios and families of y^e true owners. Tru­ly this plentiful & fruiteful haruest of Sillas tyine, was neither at Roome, nor then onely. But is at al such times, & wheres, as priuate men cōdemne no­bles in losse of life, exile, or fine of goodes, to enter them selues on their pos­sessions. When new come ghests dis­place the old inhabiitants, whē eyther circumuent other, when they coine thē selues heires by forged testaments, or by fraud for smal value wrye to them selues thenheritance of theyr naked neyghboure, or begge wardes of the prynce to ryfle y^e poore Orphanes, or by any like wycked meanes by others wracke enriche them selues. Newe shiftes and polecies haue the Nobles of these dayes, vnknowen to y^e elders. First to rake to thē reuenues of bene­fices, wherin though the name of mi­nistery they neither beare nor coueit,Benefi­ced not beneficial Gentle­men. yet reape they the greatest part of the profites. Bestowing on the toylinge, sweating, & swinkīg minister, y^e sma [...] lest parte & porciō. Of which sorte y^e to [Page]many such be & haue ben, euen y^• blind see, and such as be in authority, ought see reformed. That euerye man haue wyth his labour his hire, his guerdō with his charge.Ab [...]eye Gentles. Like is their risinge, who in the rasynge of monasteryes, sought not the commen but theyr pri­uate commoditye. Whereby manye first became and were termed gentle­men, to whom afore neyther that worshipfull name, nor so large, possessions were imparted. Whych neuerthelas, were they good men, franke houseke­pers, liberal, louers and mainteiners of true religion, staynde by the olde Tenants: both them selues should be lesse enuied, and others lesse iniuryed, and their newe possession more excu­sable. The third sorte is of Courtiers retaynens and such like. Who by the preferment of their lordes or Prynces gyftes, [...]er [...]āuts presented. or worshipful mariages, clime to this crowne of worshippe, whiche also Cicero cōplaynd vnder the blondy varte of Silla and Cesar. When at the [...] of Noble mens sec [...]tes▪ good [...]s goodes and [...]annres [...] [Page]ryfled. Albeit herein also, our cou [...]ry­ers passe them in sleight. For they only in that calamity, were honoured with such prayes and spoyles. But these thinke it continuallye lawefull by flattertuge theyr lordes, and han­ging on the chiefest counsayloures, to watche theyr commodity and oportu­nitye. To catche the farme or lease they coueyte, though with the iniurye of some poore wretche, aged, creple, widowe, or orphane. wherof the folly resteth in Sillas and Cesars, and such as suffer them selues to be flattered and corrupted, to wrest from the ryghte owners, by their authorityes and commaundementes, honours, and posses­sions to bestowe commenly on the vnworthiest. Which Budee writynge on the Pandectes, compleyneth of [...] [...]au [...]ce, hys countrey, being mayster of the re­quests, borne in Parise of a noble house and honorable parentes, howe bee if Nobler for hys learnynge then hys honour. Whiche I am not here [...]gre­ [...]ed to wryte, for that mischiefe farre spreadeth, and extendeth to many [Page]persons and places. That both they may be condemnd by the authority of so honourable person, and ashamed of so iust complaynt, and by wysedome and councel renoked to a better mind. By Ciceros minde (ꝙ he) the chiefest courtiers, in maner Princes eyes and eares, and euen of their priuye counsel, in preferringe vnfeete men, & en [...]talling lorelles in chiefest benefi­ces, highest officer, & other pryses of vertue (iustice freating thereat) seeme to haue seared their names with per­petuall infamye, and to haue staynde theyr memorye wyth fretting and vnanoydable enuye. For what may we thynke of them, to whom the Prynce bath credited the seasonynge of yong [...] sutes, Yf partiall eyther for hate or affection, ouerpassyng men of greats discrecion and approued tr [...]fte, they entrude to suche charge eyther drea­mishe doltes, or loselles, most vnwor­thye that credyte: or sometime not so worshipful, as famous for the yl prayer of all men to bothe? Of which sorte are some pernicious moch Catos, who fauour [Page]the good more from y^e teeth forwards then with their heartes. Who seeme to me, to showe as many scarres in their forheads, as eyther they preferd such, or suppressed worthy men, wyth the mockerye of their prince. Yet, what horrible mischieues haue suche wrought? Howe muche misery hathe happened, for the default of wiser and more worthye teachers? All this his talke, referreth to the wordes of Cice­ro, wrytinge to Atticus that Pompeye hanged his name for euer, in prefer­ring by hys authoritye one moste vn­worthy to the Consulshippe. But the sonne of Aulus (ꝙ he) so bebaueth him selfe, that his Consulshippe is no consulshyppe, but playnely the sclaunder and infamye of Pompeye, who preferd him thereto. Thus is hit to true, both that promocions are bestowed on the vnworthy, and that theyr faultes are imputed to theyr promoters. For which onely cause, we haue also seene in England diuers excellente, good, and godlye Nobles, deadly hated and de­famed, for placynge vnder theym yll [Page]and rauening rulers and officers.

Whose auarice turned not to their owne harme, but to the discredite and death of theyr innocent & guyltles pa­trones. Wherfore the true Nobilitye (and chiefely princes) must be circum­spect, to whō they credite the gouerne­ment eyther of priuate or publike af­fayres. For if oughte happen yll, to them the gaine turnes, the shame and checke to their placers and preferrers Nor lighteth euer the blame and punishement, on those, whose is the fault. But I ouerpasse our home hap­pes, and soares. Muche is it to be fea­red least these Giantes broode, earthe byrdes, dunghil Nobles, proue y^e tray­toures and plagues of their countrey, and treade vnder-foote the commen wealth. In Homere Achilles ragynge freateth, for vneuen honoures were layde on vnable porters. Nor plaine­lier ought prophecieth the neare & ap­proching death of cities and realmes, then like accompt of good and euell: and (as Plato sayeth) vnmeete shoul­ders charged with vneuen payse.

But, how great storms and Tragedies, these new found Nobles stirre in common Weales, historyes wyll easely teache: if any man wyll either vnfolde the records of aged memory, or search and see the later presidentes. But to repeate so farre of the aunciente pa­terns, it greueth me truly: chiefly, for I meane not to dwel in any one part, but hie to other. And, to reuiue and rub vp greene soares, is both odyous, and superfluous, for they are grauen in the greene memory of all y^e quirke. Certainly, somwhat there is, that all vniuersally enuie the honours of vp­sterts: and abhorre them as pernici­ous to commō weales. Neither cause­les is it, that Historiens, Poetes and Ora­tours, alwayes playne it in theyr mo­numentes. For not to touche here Ca­ria, in times past moste flourishynge, ruyned by the multitude of new Ru­lers: Let vs weighe the complayntes of Oratours, in the Noblest and aun­cienst Cities. Demosthenes chiefe Ora­tour of Athenes, of all wyse men elo­quentest, of all eloquent wysest, wry­teth, [Page]that when Nicias, Aristides, an o­ther Demosthenes, and other auncy­ente Gentlemen, gouerned the state of Athenes, they ruled farre & neare: And three score and fiue yeares held (in manner) a Monarchie, wyth the consente of all Greece. Had in theyr treasure, of spare money, more then tenne thousande Tallentes: The Kinges of Macedon at theyr becke, ma­ny noble shrines of victorye, (after happely atcheued Conquests by lande and Sea), erected, the Common buyl­dinges moste sumptuously furnyshed, and pryuate homes neglected. But, since the people and newe men prea­ced in place, who attended on priuate mens bec [...]es, not serued the common wealth: the Monarchie of the Grekes, swerued to the Lacedemonians, the com­mon dignitie waned, priuate profyte grewe, sodainly of base many became Noble, of beggers riche, the beggered fains to become their s [...]aues, and for refectiō to take y^e reuersiōs of their ta­bles. Whiche selfe same reporteth Iso­ [...]ates in his oration of peace and other [Page]where. Of y^e Roman state the [...]oete [...] thus writeth as mēcioneth Cicero [...]

Also the Romyshe youth, that they onely might geue voyce in elections, wonted to tumble the auncients ouer the bridge. who once dispatched of ho­nor, lyfe, and dygnitie: forthe with new m [...] stirrd factions and discorde. As also it happened in Roome vn­der the Papacye: And namely in Iulius the Seconds tyme. Who, from the Ores, (wherewyth hee wonted to earne his alehouse halfepeny) lyfted to the hyghest honor of the chiefe See, fildd all Realmes wyth warre, tu­mult, and rage. Then whome, that Churche had neuer stouter Champy­on. Wherefore, like as (as grauely warneth Paule) a straunge vnknowen person must not be admitted to mini­stery in the church, as commōly proud & ignorant: so in gouerninge the state, none more insolent, none more intol­lerable, [Page]then new and skillesse nobles [...] raysed from the Carte to the Courte, from the rascalles to the Nobles, or to any rule or excellencie of Nobylytie. Whom not vnfeetely, with Homere may wee Imagine borne of Oke and Flint: both for theyr basest birth, and theyr Flintie and Iron harte. As wel Eustathius, [...]he playnest interpreter of Homere, blaseth it. For this is moste true.

For, so giddieth and ouerbeareth him the prosperous gale of Fortune, that (in maner past him selfe) he forgetteth what hee was, what hee is, and what hee ought bee. Where in deede howe muche higher hee is, so muche more lowly, humble, and gentle, should hee shew him selfe. These so enchaunted and dronken, with the charme and Hippocrace of new honour, I wishe to imitate the humble highnes of Aga­thocles: needfull president for all No­bles to folow. So shall they both bee myndefull of theyr former state, and [Page]not shake or trouble Common wea­les, and aspire to the hygher place by vertue, not vice, by industry, not ma­lice, or pollecy: and hit gotten gouerne iustly, modestly, and vprightly. For he though the Sonne of a potter, yet cald to the Crowne of Sicyle, not forth with proudly dysdained the rest, but surmounted them all in humblenes: not shooke, but setled eche state: not vaunted hee was kinge, but playnely professed, he was once an earthen pot­ter. Of whom thus writeth Auson [...]us.

For on his table, besides goblets, he caused also earthen pots to be placed, which in maner of encouraginge, hee wonted to shewe to youngemen. And pointing to the earthen, said. Suche I made. Shewinge the golden. Suche I make by trauaile, diligēce, & courage. So had he euer tofore his eyes y^e base­nes of his beginninge & science. Least at any time, pufte vp by prosperytie, he mighte forget hys olde beynge, and proudly disorder, & confounde all thin­ges. Suche Agathocles it is expedyente oure newe Nobles bee. Which would they, it were to be wyshed, they were more, and theyr greater estymation by all meanes procured. For none but vicious, wyl not loue & reuerēce them, in whom vertue shineth, & the nobility of honesty glistereth. In whiche sorte of praise that heretofore haue ben, and presently are many syngular & excel­lente: is none so deuoyde of common sence, who heareth and seeth not. Nor meant I by my longe talke, to dys­proue there were suche: but to shew [Page]that others (of whome I feare the number) are no righte Nobles. For,Vicious Nobylity whereas tofore wee denied, the onely Nobilitie of birth, to be hit wee seeke and misse: shal we thinke this what s [...] it be, new or olde, cloggd wyth vyces, to bee hit? If any bee perhappes, who stole vp by shifts and sleights, feedes on myschiefe and rauenynge, lyues by and in slaughter, who is a bane and burthen to him selfe and others: hym shall wee deeme a righte Noble man? Muche may Stoically bee sayd of a slaue and thrall of vyces, a wordly foole, or who is in deede free, wyse, good, or e­uen a man at all. But I referre the Reader to Ciceros Paradoxes, there gra­uely discoursing them. Where he shal learne, that the rychest, best borne, heades of cities, whom grauen golde and Tapistry, Images & Tables honour: notwithstanding, if they defraud any, gape for others right, forge Testaments, [...]o [...]ite or catche others goods, thrall them selues to vices, not chiefly reue­rēce vertues: are fooles, though costly and courtly: poore, notwithstandynge [Page]theyr groaning chestes, yf barren minded, most filthy slaues, and to cōclude, beastes. But that reasoninge I leaue to the Stykes and Cicero: the readynge to good and studious Gentlemen.

Hetherto haue I seuerally discour­sed certaine partes of Nobilitie. Both that auncient, whiche is borne wyth the man, and this new, which spryn­geth from it selfe. Wherin, if eyther the firste haue no other grounde then bloud, or this laste bee purchased or mayntayned by yll meanes: wee haue farre remoued eyther from the true, & liuely counterfaite of Nobilitie.

If ther? oughte be any estate of Idle Nobility.Now ioyntly som what farther wyl we suppose of either. And ouerpassing other faultes, wherto it wonts to bee thrall, consider (for wee meane to exa­mine all poyntes as farre as seemeth good) such a Noble man, (if any suche be) or (if none suche) imagine him, sith either he might or may be: who is nei­ther enflamed with cruelty nor chafed with anger, nor boyled with ambicy­on, nor whelmed or ouerborne wyth couetise, nor rakes by hoke and croke, [Page]nor purchaseth by force, fraude, or like croked meanes, his forged Noblesse, nor encreaseth it gotten by disloyall practises, iniuryes none: but mayne­tayneth him selfe and his, wyth hys owne goodes and enherytaunce, with them contenteth him selfe, in them reposeth him selfe: but yet neither applieth any study, nor gouernth any com­men charge, but licēciously roames in ryot, coasting the stretes w^t wauering plumes, hangd to a long side blade, & poūced in silkes. And so braue vaunts him selfe to y^e simple sorte, garded w^t a rout of seruaūts. Learns nought but customably, & courtlike to entertaine gentlemen, to cal the king his lord w^t ii. or .iii. French, Italian, Spanishe, or such like termes, to greete a stranger, and knowe the courtlike titles, your lord­ship your grace, your maiesty, bestowing them in conuenient times, & with courtly grace and brauery: to be short, in feasting, dainty feeding, ryot, Venus stelths, Mars combattes, huntinge, haukinge, dise, & Tables, nought do­yng, at home sleping, abroad toyeng, [Page]yll weares and wastes the good while ouerpasseth whole daies, & most parte of the nights, in vaine & fruteles try­fles: This noble man cōsider we, and shewe what we iudge of thys idle and voluptuous life. For the not spoilyng others, for the mayntenance of theyr priuate pleasures, not to prayse, were hard. But in flowing with licentious idlenesse, applieng no honest labour or exercise, w^e such one crime & guylt they stayne thē selues, as cōpryseth thother & is deemd the mother & beldame of al mischieues. For, fyrst they offende in neglecting artes, & contemning lear­nyng: traitours to al noble knowled­ges. Whence springeth ignorance, linkd with contempt & hate of al thrift And, for the motion of y^e mind ceasseth not, but is euer busyed in somewhat: it happth, that eyther in base & fruit­lesse worldly trifles, or thefts, or extorciōs, or innumerable mischieues, their deuices are spent. Nor Cupide but they chase idlenes, hath loste his bowe, nor quenchd lye y^e flames & brands of lust. Wherfore, though a while it neyther iniury nor wrong any, yet wil it spede [Page]lye, bothe purchace infamye to the good, stayne to the chast, and blemishe to the iust. So as nowe it is not ease, but the concourse, medlay, and synke of all sinne. But let be this armye of vices, wherewith idlenes wonteth to be garded and accompanied. And en­quire we onelye of an Idle noble man Truly, yf any be that neither knowes nor coueytes learning, nor in trauaile of his body, or exercise of mind, passeth the course of his weary life: but spen­deth his yeares in pleasure ease & rest: haunteth plaies, feastes, bathes & bankettings, and vseth this vicious trade and custome: (though spending onely on his owne stocke, his fathers gyfte) nor seeketh or compasseth, but how to rise nobler, richer, or welthier: nor is beautified w^t any excellent ornament, al be he not spotted w^t monstrous cru­elty, couetise, or mischiefe: yet so farre am I from deeming him a ryght no­ble man, as I allowe him not so much as one ynche of Nobility. This heare all ye Nobles, both newe and aunci­ent: and for it is true, credite it. That [Page] [...]this careles, sluggyshe, and rechelesse Nobility, repugneth wyth the lawes both of God and man, and oughte by the same be punyshed. Yea, playnely I professe, any suche vocation prescry­bed in holy wryte, coulde I hytherto neuer fynde. For it suffiseth not eche holde what he hath, and that enioye not spoylynge others: nor he dischar­geth his dutye, who onely not hurtes: but who faythfullye perfourmeth not what God commaundeth, is guyltye and accessary to haynous cryme, and in daunger of iudgement. For all we are charged to labour, not licensed to sytte and slepe by our gotten goodes: not to content our selues with others laboures, but forced to bende our boa­nes to the croked plough, and sweat at worke. For as soone as Adam mans fyrst parent fell, forthwyth he heard [...] God the moste wyse and iust lawege­uer, pronounce thys smart sentence.

In the sweate of thy browe shalt thou eat thy bread. whych extendeth not to Adam onely, but generally to al Adams and all hys posterity, no man, no No­ble, [Page]no King, no Emperour exempted. By this curse are they charged to la­bour, in the sweat of their browes, to eate theyr bread as the hindes of y^e al­mighty god & lorde. But it nedeth not (say they) they should moyle thē selues with needles & superfluous toile. Sith by gods hand al necessaries are abun­dantly ministred thē, al thinges plen­ty with them, & sufficient left of theyr parents, wel & worshipfully to main­teine them, and furnyshe theyr estate. But if they scorne to beare this yoake of laboure, with Adam, with theyr fa­thers, with theyr brethren, if in slouth idlenes, & lasines they suffer houres & daies to slyde: they shal yeld to god the most seuer auditour, accompt of theyr mispent time, al wer they Cresus, Cras­sus, or Midas, and possessed syluer Vy­nes, golde mountes, all beare they Chayne, Brooche, or Iewel on theyr coarse. And though perhappes of cu­stom they presume, this ought of right pryuyledge bee pardoned them, and neyther accompte of theyr lyfe mys­led nor tyme loste, nor fyne for theyr [Page]idlenes exacted: yet, wil they be fault­lesse, wil they escape vnpunished, they must attende, not what is licensed or permitted emonges a fewe men, but what by Gods worde they may. For this gappe opened not lawes, but ly­cencious custome, not ciuile ordinance but corrupted tymes. Reuerende anti­quitye nor vsed, nor meante it. But more by deedes than wordes, and yet by wordes sufficiently, condemneth this lewdnes and ydlenes in gentrye. Hit is therefore labour worthe, to displaye here the aunciente, busye and paynefull life: that our Nobilitye may euer caste theyr eyes to this antiquy­tye, and hit propose theym selues for paterne. Fyrste the Iewishe Prynces sawe this laboryous lotte of Adam, pertayned to them as his posteritye. As the Noble Noah the Vyne setter, Abra­ham and Isaac well myners, Iacob the shepeheard, as all the rest: eyther shepeheardes, Husbandmen, Artificers, or earnest toylers in some fruitefull tra­uayle. Not w^e ease effeminate, or nice with pleasure, lashd oute (as Penelopes [Page]woers, theyr welth in feasting & ban­ketting. Shall onely these men then exempt them selues, from the law in­differentlye geuen all men? Sith these Patriarches so thoughte, and that taught by theyr liues: shal not our no­bles measure them selues by the same meatrod of manhood? Who, would or could they read aunciēt monuments, should sufficientlye see what were the trauailes of the Paganes, w^t howe many labours their life was laden: how idlenes was algates punished in whatso­euer estate, degree, or dignitye, and that by some commodious trauayle, and commendable sweat, they earned this name and honour amonges theyr people. For albeit some Romaines boro­wed their forefathers names as y^e Vi­tellians, Antonies, Mamilians, Naucians, Sergians, Cecilians, Cluentiās, Iulians, Acmiliās who deriued their surnames either frō Eneas or his sonnes, or felow exiles: or of y^e Sabines, or other aūciēt people: yet both endeuored they stoutly to deserue thē, & were for y^e most part, farther termed either for their excellēt wisedome [Page]Sages, as the Catons, Brutes, or surna­med of other vertues. As emonges the Greekes some Beneficiall, Brotherlye, Sauioures, [...]monges the Romaynes, God­lye, Fauourers of the Commens. Or of conquered cities, as Coriolane, Isaurike, Numidian, Asiatike, Achayke, Macedon, of such realmes and cities. Or of other noble feates either of warre, or peace, as Runner, Lingerer, Chaynd, Valiant, Con­querer, and Drusus, for he slew the king Drausus: and Valerius the greatest, for he reconciled the lordes & cōmens. Or of their sugred eloquence, as Pleasant, wel-spoken, Attike, and others infinite. As they therfore, not for they were riche, meante to wither in idlenesse: so nor ought oures, for they be noble ware starke & stiffe. Nay rather, so much the busier it behoueth thē to be in all exer­cise, as wel of minde as bodye, to sup­presse growinge vice, and cutte of the buddynge baytes of euell, whyche the poore wante. To chasten and subdue theyr bodyes, that they become not to wanton, with the abundance of for­tunes giftes: & finally so maister them [Page]selues, as they may honest their stocke answere theyr name, accomplishe the great expectacion conceaued of them. Least otherwyse they become despe­rately vicious, lycentious lybertines, wantonly froward, excessyue ryche, noughtily Nobles, and altogether dis­solute. Sith hereto their many baites, and slipper traynes allure them. Let them pervse the whole bible. Yet shall they not (I thinke) finde any Idle de­gree instituted, or once named of god. In Moyses, and the Christian common welth, Kinges, Iudges, Souldiours, and riche men haue their roomes. And to eche sorte theyr charge prescrybed. Of whose number if Nobles bee, (as if they wyll bee, they muste) they are doubtles bounde to theyr labours and taxes. Plato and Aristotle in ordeyninge theyr Common Welthes, admitte n [...] Idle state, nor sluggishe Nobilytie. But appoint all eyther husbandmen, or Craftsmen, or Marchants, or hired Seruants, or wardeins, or gardeins. But what is the cause, why Nobles may not labour? For they be honora­ble? [Page]But, are not all worldlye creatu­res, howe much more excellente and precious, so muche more enwrapped in restles laboure? Nothing more ho­nourable then the heauenly army, the sonne, the Moone, the s [...]erres, nothing in the whole worlde more beautyfull or excellente. Yet leapeth the Sonne forth as a Gyant to runne his course.

The moone taketh charge of y^e night, & serueth men, plants, liuinge creatu­res. The starres rise and set. To con­clude, euery creature labours & trauai­les. For, euen the noblest beasts, and Princeliest fowles are bounde by this law: and most wretchedly captiued to dayly & nightly toyle, if they happe on myserable and cruel lords. Of fowles the Eagle, of beastes the Lyon, and E­lephant, of tamer beasts, Axen and such like. To whom, (besydes the sha­dowed Images of certayne vertues, which y^e vniuersal cōsent of al writers aloweth them, as of swiftnes, strēgth stomake, godlines, Iustice, Prudence) this is peculier: to digge thē selues and theyr whelpes caues, to purue y theyr [Page]foode and other necessaries, with their owne laboure. None of them, that eyther flyeth not, as Eagles, or eareth not as Oxen, or gallopth not as Hor­ses, or senteth not as Houndes.

Thus reasonles beasts performe their duties, and denie not the Noble man at due tymes, theyr woll, mylke, laboure, and Seruice. They are euer prest to serue hym, beare burthens, suffer strypes, daye and nyghte are plaged, and yet shrynke not from theyr dutie. Shall onely then theyr Lorde, (Brute beastes labourynge), sitte Idle and sluggyshe? Credytynge them (whyle hee snorts), to feede so many hongrie mawes? In hope, For­tune wyll fyshe for hym whyle hee sleepes, and poore Cattell brynge home hys wantes, and in maner poore meate in hys mouthe? The Lorde sayeth the Fowle was made to flee, and man to laboure. Where vnder (Man) hee encludeth all estates. Salomon the wysest prince, posteth them not to these Pryncely creatures, but to the symple Ant. Sayenge, goe [Page]sluggard to the Ant, marke her paths, so to become wise. Without mayster, teacher, or chastner, shee prouideth her foode in sommer, and in haruest stoa­res her barnes. How longe wilt thou sluggarde snorte? wylt thou neuer a­wake? Loe Salomon deemth a sluggard worse then the Ant. But him termeth hee sleepy, who but a litle slombers, and somwhat lasely retcheth oute hys armes. Loe man lifted to honor vn­derstandeth not, but is resembled to beastes, and compared to brutishe creatures, as songe Dauid this kinges fa­ther, the kingly prophete. If then the scripture, by proposing vs simple creatures prouoke vs to worke, if it be suf­ficiently and euydently proued, that eche excellentest creature in his kinde, is not for his Noblesse exempted from labour: nor ought the priuilege of No­bilitie be pretended, for an excuse and vayle of Idlenes in oure Nobles, to purchace them vacation, and (as for­worne Souldiours) a pastporte. But rather the better and Nobler they are, the more ought they vpraise their cou­rage [Page]therto. As stronger beastes beare greater burthens.

Will you then (wyll some happely say) set hie borne lordes,Husband dry not dispysed of the aū ­cient No­bilytie. to plough and Cart? I cal them not therto, but onely prouoke them to labour. The certain­tie and specialtie I limite not. Howebeit, if I shold moue them to the prac­tise of some honest art, or euen of hus­bandry, what hurt? For, nor therein should they beginne any newe presy­dent, nor greatly disparagethe bright­nes of theyr honor: if eyther they cre­dite antiquitie, or examples, or the manifest reasons of wryters, and the sound iudgement of the good. For, to speake of husbādry not what I thinke but knowe, and haue red: antiquytie thought nought more liberal, nought worthier a Noble man. Nor was hit erst, as nowe, counted a base and con­temptuous state, which Consuls, lor­des, and Prynces, whiche kinges and Monarches coueited. Whiche to proue, first of the Romans, and then of others wyl I borrowe somwhat, which may serue to double purpose. Bothe, that [Page]oure Nobles maye imitate the labouri­ous antiquytie of the auncyents, with lyke successe: and also to shewe, that euen the auncyentest Nobles, esteemd and vsed tyllage. For, wee reade, that euen from the Ploughe to the Senate, from theyr Coate to the Coun­cell, from Tyllage to offyce, ma­ny stoute and worthy men were calld. For. L. Quintius Cincinatus, then held the Ploughe, when newes came to hym, hee was chosen Dictator. Cato thelder writeth in Cicero, he was mer­ueilously rappt with the loue of Hus­bandry, which hee affirmeth most sibb to a wyse mans lyfe. And therefore many, for theyr merueylous and in­credible delighte therein, gaynd them selues many surnames, whyche for honours sake descended to posterytie. And those not base or obscure famy­lies, but euen of the Noblest and most famous. Hence came the surnames of Hoggyshe, Sheepyshe, Asses, Swinishe. Hereby, of the pulse Cycer was Tully named Cicero, of pease Piso, of beanes Fabius, of Lintelles, Lentulus, and lyke­wyse [Page]dyuers other. Yea the Iunians re­fused not the name of herds, the Valerians of milkers, the Licinians of spriggs, the Statill [...]ns of bulles, the Annians of Goates, nor the Pomponians of Calues. Naye rather they chearelye culd them as honourable tytles, and careful­lye retaynd them, to them and theyr posterytie. And thus muche of the Romans. Nowe somewhat of others. Homere, in whose tales (yf they bee tales) is formed and shaped the Image of the auncyentest mauners, Ima­gyneth in hys Odyssees, Laertes the olde man, the Lord and Kyng of Itha­ca, the father of Vlisses, deluynge, til­linge, sowinge, and dounginge. That the practise of husbādry was also familyer to Kynges, the example of Cirus the younger, proueth. Who accoun­ted it no stayne, paynefully with hys owne hands to sowe whole fyeldes, to graffe in his Orcharders, cut & border flowers and Herbes in hys Garden, and curyously to plant hys trees in seemly order. Nay, when Lisander, the Lacedemonian Legate, came to hym [Page]with presentes, vaunted to him, that all hee sawe, him selfe had sowed and set. Whereat he wondring, and view­inge hys purple Roabes, hys bodies beautie, the sumptuous Persian orna­ments, embrawderyes of golde and pearle, amased cryed out. Justly O Ci­rus men deeme the happy, sith in the vertue and Fortune meete. For so al­moste translated it Cicero out of Xeno­phon. Wherfore learned men, for they see this laboure greately accepted and honoured of the Consuls and lords of Roome, and the auncient grekes and kinges, thinke it not vnmeete or vn­sittinge to oure Nobles.

Noble mens children taught arte [...].Further, not so vnseemely seemeth it to many Sages, that Noble mens sonnes should learne some arte. For, sith Fortune standynge on vnstable wheele, & in smal moments sweyenge vpside downe, bothe may & wonteth to chaunge her cheere: it may happe (saye they) whome pleasaunt and mery shee raysed to the highest fane of honoure, the same frowning and froward, shee may whyrle lowest. Dionisius kinge of Sicile [Page] deposed from his kingdome, was dryuen to kepe a schoole. And wheretofore he ruled men, then ruled boies So, if any tyme they want, they haue wherewyth to succoure theyr nede.

For euer the arte maynetayneth the artsman. But neede they not? Theyr arte lades thē not. Nor is any burthē lighter. Therfore, that oure forefa­thers dischargd the Nobles of baser craftes, was not for they shoulde wa­lowe and freese in ydlenes: but to practise warlike feates, and employe good artes. For not all arces are base and filthye, so as we ought be ashamed of theyr knowledge. This therfore is (as I haue sayde) the aduice of many, deeminge not altogether euel, nor as me seemeth wholly to be condemned. For heretofore both the custome was, and by written lawe decreed emonges the Athenians, that chyldren at thage of discrecion should be brought to occu­pacions, the instrumentes of eche scy­ence layde before theym. Where, to whatsoeuer tooles anye voluntarilye ranne, those was he taughte. Where­fore, [Page]if Noble ympes woulde spende some porcion of theyr youth, in learninge any profitable or commen­dable arte, it were not discommenda­ble. Naye rather, theyr earnest will, and modest labour, were hyghlye to be praised. Forasmuch as, therby nought should they lessen theyr estimaciō, and yet prouoke many others by their commendable example to greater diligēce. At least, this rather ought they do thē nothing, or liue idellye. So shall not theyr childhood and youth passe wholy fruiteles, & many vices shall they kyll which ydlenes to fertile of sin, breedes Right oft haue I heard many Nobles cloyed with ease, complayne their we­rines. Knowing not howe to passe the long dayes, & therfore wishe thē shorte which plaint shall ceasse if herein they will sometime vouchesafe to exercyse them selues, and taste the commen trauayles, miseries, and grieues. So shal they both better spare y^e crooked plow­man, and them selues enioye not alto­gether vayne delight, & mock the time with profitable pleasure: to conclude, [Page]please lesse thē selues, god more. But other I confesse, & those moste weigh­tye charges some haue, chiefly princes Who be they good, care, howe, coun­sayle, watche, commen with theym selues, their counsaile, while others chiefely theyr subiectes, careles snorte at home. Which duties of Nobilitye, (god willing) I will prosequute in my other bookes, as occasion serueth.

But hitherto I assent to this opinion, so it want a couetous & nigard minde and measure be vsed, and other poore labourers not pinched of theyr profite and this trauaile, referred rather to the refreshinge of theyr myndes, then the heapyng of coyne.

Busines neuer wanteth a noble man, yf he caste his eyes through hys house, through the commen wealth. Chiefelye, yf inwardes he behold hys mynde, he shall euer see somewhat, to be learned, vnlearned, knowen, vn­knowen, folowed, fled, amended, alte­red, and wyth all care and heedeful­nes to be pursued.

But herein haue I dwelt the longer, for I would perswade, that no sorte of honest labour ought be despised.

Chiefely, sith the aunciente Iewes, Ro­maines, Greekes, lordes and kynges, re­fused it not. But (howsoeuer) laboure they must. For Paule chargeth euerye man to abide in his callynge, and not betray the standinge by God credyted bym. The lawes beare not droanes, but punyshe them. Erasmus also enstructyng Charles the fyft, deemth slouthful Nobles, & vnlearned Princes, worse then Sowters or Hindes. Yf any therfore passe the boundes of his callynge, and forsake his duty, preferring idle­nesse before trauayle: he is neyther of God calld, nor of men ought be placed in this reuerende roome. But the desire of briefenes, and the long residue of our purpose, reuokes vs from the chase of this false and shaded Nobi­litye When as yet we had but entred to it. In blasinge whiche, notwitstan­dinge, we were therefore the longer that we myght be bryefer in the rest. For thus the contrarye knowen, the [Page]true, most honourable, and royall no­bilitye brighter shyneth. We haue shewed therfore, that farthest wander from this scope a lewde sort of roisters and mocknobles. Onely in name and title, not in deede Noble. As farr wide are they, who are ioyntly pryestes and Nobles. Nor alwaies are these well borne gentlemen, muche lesse vpster­tes and slippes the true Nobles, chief­lye if eyther firste they rise by crooked meanes, or risen geue thē selues to yll practises. To whō ioyne those y^t lyue in idlenes. Now therfore must our no­bles diligentlye endeuour, to shonne this counterfayt descried noblesse, and embrace the true. For hitherto, in mi­serable maner hathe it swerued from the auncient state, and lost her for­mer flower and dignity. which howe it maye be recouered, and perfectly restored, henceforth we must treate.

SYthe therefore these foure sor­tes, as vnwor­thy this honou­rable title, are worthely reiec­ted frō so highe honour: Who so, in al his maner and trade of lyfe, is most vnlike them, most resembleth a noble man. Who suttelye insinua­teth not him selfe, for such as he is not who is no traytor or rebel to his state, who boasteth not the brightenes or auncientye of his byrthe, but proueth him selfe worthy thē. Who swelleth not with accesse of honour, or purcha­seth enuy by vice, or importunitye: but scaleth honours honestly, growing in fauour through commendable vertue well gouerneth them gotten, and lo­thinge ydlenes, buselye executeth hys To [Page]charge, and to be short.

Wherby the Poet adiudgeth a good man, a ryght Noble man. For albeit some receyue Nobility deliuered them (as it were) other fynde it: Yet neither all they whose auncestrye longe lasted are borne Nobles, nor these new men made Nobles, by whatsoeuer meanes But the fyrst, by suinge the steppes of theyr good auncestoures: these by pur­suyng the path, that Hercules is sayd to haue proposed. Of whom Cicero repor­teth oute of Prodicus the Sophister, that seynge two pathes, he tourned to the ryght not lefte: and leauynge pleasure the flatterynge dame and the baytes of vices, lystned vertue a thryftye and sober mayden, sadlye and soundlye dis­putynge, assented to her, and serued her. And this is that Nobilitye that fylleth the thyrde roome, when wyth stocke and forreyne Noblesse, the in­warde ornamentes and vertue, (the true honour of the mind) are matched. [Page]As Antisthenes defynd wel borne, well manerd. But vertue, albeit in what­soeuer home it harboureth, is euer one aye like it selfe: Yet (I wot not howe) more shineth and glistereth in a noble man. Nor coueteth so muche the shade as Sunne, the couerte as the open lyght, the darke and shady laundes, as bryght and Sunnye mountes, where resort and assembly is most frequente. For both she honoureth her place, and is honoured by suche subiecte, as she­weth it most apparent, and where she brightest shines. This therfore I adde That no base or meane vertue, is re­quisite in a Noble man, but euen the noblest and hyghest. So as, the deuine bountye and grace assistynge him, he maye wysely and tymely mynde, and diligently and faythfullye compasse, those thynges, whyche most besee me I saye not a man, or free borne, but euen a Noble man. For to such perfec­tion who so is Noble, is thoughte to haue scaled: not onely to haue attaind what is common to all. For in being men partakers of speache and reason, we [Page]differ from brute beastes. In beynge free, we excel bondmen, or those of ser­uile nature: as fooles, or dolts vnfeet for all partes of life. Or Villens by warre, in whom natheles, oft lurketh secreate fredome and gentry, though mastred by Villenage, it dare not peepe out. As the bird Attagen, albeit of na­ture tatling, yet taken is sayd to ware [...]umme. But farre more is it to bee a Noble man. Who, as hee excelleth in honor, so ought to excede in vertue. If others creepe, they ought runne, if o­thers runne, hit them behoues to flie. Nor onely flie, (for flight is commen to eche rascal fowle,) but noble Eagles must they bee. Whom as many geue in theyr armes, so god graunt they re­semble. For as they she swifter and sore higher then others: so nor ought Nobles stoope to the Car [...]on of the world, nor bee sibbe to vyces and filth of the rascal sorte, nor debase them sel­ues to the basenes of viler varlets, but soare on highe and seke the lofty­est. Neyther are Nobles causeles com­pared to Egles. For as they are quenes o [...] [Page]Nobles therfore, as well who are fa­mous by discent of auncestrie, as who first purchace Nobility by vertue and polecy: I exhort, and s [...]irre, to the con­templacion of this true Nobilitie. I spoyle not your house or auncestrie of theyr due glory, but admit it: Couey­tinge yet, to amplifie and enriche it with an other ornament. This is the true & only path, to all praise, dignity, & Nobility: to dispise in respect of this Christ, all pompe. Without whom, nought in this world may bee stable, high, stately or Noble. Not kinne, not cōtrey, not parents, not petigrees, not Noblesse of lēgthned line, not length, bredthe, heighte, or depthe. What braggest thou then thy stately enseig­nes, or thy vayne armes? Wherto at­temptest thou to spred, and roote in earth, the memory of thy name to all eternitye? It is writen in Ecclesiasticus, the lorde wyll roote oute the rootes of the proud, all bee it they assay to delue and graue them, neuer so deepe in earth. And the Prophete Esay witnes­seth, he turneth the mighty to nought [Page]and empouerysheth the lordes of the land, so as they neither plāt nor sowe, nor theyr stocke spreadeth. who withe­reth them w^t his breath, & causeth the wherlwynde to tosse them as strawe. And albeit fooles and doltes, as Dauid termeth them, seke to leaue their chil­dren infinite substaunce, and to roote theyr seates and memory for euer, and name whole lands after them: yet shal they not longe last in price and honor. But theyr beauty wither, theyr buil­dinges molte, them selues rott like di­enge beastes. Yea truly, all can they vouche infinite auncestours, & grand­syers, possesse they whole myllyons of Coyne, add hereto, be they beautifyed with vertues, and furnyshed wyth all those partes of Nobilitie whiche erste wee mencioned: but they ioyne hereto Iesus Christ, the piller, crest, and perfec­tion of al Nobillty: nought worth are all these whiche moste are prysed, and accompted moste precious. Be thou auncienter then Adam, stronger then Sampson, wyser, rycher, and more lear­ned, then Salomon, more vprighte then [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] Abraham: Haue thou moste Noble and vertuous auncestours, possesse thou all goods, purchase thou all vertues, be skylful in al thynges, be thou No­blest, beste, hyghest, and learnedst yet not but in Chryste onely, mayest thou bee termed Noble: yet shalt thou remaine anvnprofitable seruant For, wyth God is no accompte or res­pecte, eyther of stocke, honoure or person, eyther of deserte or dignytie: but throughe Christe Iesus. For ye see ‘For ye see brethren, (sayeth Paule) ye are calld not many wyse, as to the fleash: not many mightie, not many Noble: But god chose the foolishe of the worlde, to shame the wyse: the weakest to con­founde the myghtie: and basest, and moste contemptuous, and suche as were not, to abolyshe the thynges that are.’ That no flesh might glory in his sighte. Albeit who clensed Naaman the Sirian, the generall of hys Prynces armie, and counsailour of greatest au­thoritie with his lorde (as witnesseth the holy ghost, in the second chapter of the fift of the kynges) taught hym to [Page]professe his true confession, and not re­iected him: who cald the Noble cham­berlaine of Candace Queene of Ethiope, treasurer of all hir Iewels, to acknowledge his trueth: wyll also admit No­bles, if first they seeme to them selues vnnoble: ‘so they folow Christ, the prince and spring of al Nobility. Who being in forme of God, thought no robbery his equalitie with god. But so farre humbled him self, that taking on hym a seruile forme, hee became lyke men, and in shape a man. So lowe abiected hym selfe, that hee was obedient euen to death, yea the death of the crosse,’ as we reade in the second Chapter to the Philippians. But y^t this may more plainly appeare, and the Nobles vnderstād how they ought folow christ, let them a while with me recount his high hu­militie, and noble basenes. Far diffe­rent is his and the worlds Nobilytie.Christes Nobility. As neare as the East and West, the heauen & earth. For of how base, how infamous line (good God) as to hys manhoade, descended hee? Not of the aunciente Monarches of Assiria, [Page]Persia Greece: but of the scorned Iewes Abraham, Isaac, Iacob, shepheardes. Not of Queenes or Coye Ladyes, but of Thamar, Ruth, Rachel, either strangers, or harlots. And in clothinge hys god­heade with fleshe, would not be fathe­red of August then Emperour, or any o­ther Monarche: but chose Ioseph the car­penter his Father, Mary an humble Mayde h [...]s Mother. Not at Hierusalem, but in Bethlem was hee borne.

Nor laye in princely downe, or proude Palayce, but in maunger swathed with bratts. Nor wente hee garded with greate trayne of Seruaunts, but picked oute his Disciples, Fishermen and Publicanes: to whome as Ser­uaunt hee serued. Nor haunted he the scornefull Courts: but more beggerly then Birdes or Fores, had neyther benne nor neast to couche hys heade. Nor roade he on moile, but asse, accompanyed with no gards, but enfants and sucklinges cryenge Hosanna: and the lame, blynde, and deaffe limpinge after. Nor fared he sumptuouslye, but fasted in the desert, thirsted, hongred. [Page]Nor bare he armes, but pryntes of nayles, woundes, whiplashes, and y^e crosse, which for our sake he bare. He rose, as witnesseth Esaye, as a sprygge or roote, out of a drye thirstye ground, where in is neyther shape nor seeme­lynesse, the worldes scorne, a soppe of sorowe, a pacient of all infirmityes, bearer of our grieues, a simple sheepe ledde to slaughter, and dombe lambe, not bleatyng before the shearers.

And yet his Genealogye who maye blase? Blush not, for I propose ye this Chryst as paterne: Blushe not (though noble) to humble your selues as base: thoughe ryche, to be poore in spyryte, thoughe somewhat, to accompt oure selues as nothynge. But by his presi­dent laye of your pryde, your stomacke your plumes. Prostrate your selues and youres at his feete. Submitte your Nobilitye, maces, Scepters, and armes to hym. Nothynge weygh your discents, your petigrees, though fette from farthest auncientye. Fleshe Bloud, Circumcision, and forreyne [Page]happes, what other are they in respect of this Nobilitye, then rubby she, as Paule termeth them. Condemneth he not the auncienties and Genealogies of the Iewes? Reiecteth he not the car­nall sonnes of Abraham, when the Iewes boasted Abraham theyr father?

For this Nobilitye is carnall, man­nyshe, durtye, sadinge, incertayne, whyche God can euen of stones rayse. Be not then ashamed of this his lea­dyng: Blushe not of Chryste, whome god hath nowe aduaunced with high­est honour, and geuen a name aboue all names, euen Iesu: whereto al knees howe, as well heauenlye, earthlye, as vnder the earth. He once inglorious, nowe glorifyed, wyll heaue ye to the selfe same glorye. He humble wyll rayse ye hyghe. He poore will enryche ye. He vnnoble, will make ye moste noble. Nor wyl he reeue the Nobility ye haue, but geue ye grace to vse it.

Then this Nobility nothyng nobler. Nor ought more honourable then he, whoe borne to God, regenerate in [Page]Chryste, stampynge forreine pomye reposeth hym selfe in this heauenlye and Chrystyan Gentrye: who is be­gotten not of bloude, not of the wyll of fleshe or man.

Of this father, thys brother, these auncestoures who so is borne, is both moste happelye and trulye Noble.

Gloryenge not in him selfe, but God. For he nor stayneth, nor blemysheth but honoureth his parentes.

Nor leaneth onelye on theyr shadowe but to the prayses receyued of his aun cestoures addeth his owne, and hea­peth theyr gyftes wyth hys: worthe­lye reuerenceth vertue, yea more then the meaner sorte, for he is Nobler.

Yet contemneth nobilitye, honoures, yea his vertues, good deedes, and deemeth hym [...] selfe aboundantlye ho­noured in Chryste, not nobled or bet­tred by them.

Neuertheles, stantelye and wyth Gentylmanly courage, marcheth for­wardes, in good workes, and tra­uayleth in excellent actions, prepared of God for euery man, accordynge to [Page]to his dignity [...], power, and offyce to waine in. But what der des and du­tyes pertayne to Noble men, we wyll nowe perticulerlye describe, so farre forth, as our lord Chryst, the mayster of all truthe, and teacher of al know­ledge, hath reuealed vnto vs. Wher­by they may attaine to the siluer roūt of glorye, whych floweth from God, and glistereth in the exercise and practyse of vertue.

These thus determyned, syth suffi­cientlye it appeareth,VVhat ma [...] thinge [...]ue No bilitye is. what is the true pathe to perfect Nobilitye: it remay­neth we shewe, what maner thynge it is, and wyth what ornamentes of vertues it ought b [...] cladde. Infinite were to exprects, and orderly to recken the noumber and summe of at her vertues. For all suche as seuered are in the rascall rable, oughte generallye to foyne, and thronge in a Noble man Onelye the generall kyndes it shall suffyce to shewe, whereto Nobilitye oughte rayse theyr mindes and eyes and by theym as the rule of lyfe, era­myne [Page]all theyr deedes and dutyes. Whyche, albeit for the moste parte they maye be also applyed to others. yet as Erasinus in framyng a preacher, Cicero, an Emperoure, and Oratoure, recken certayne vertues, not alwayes peculyer to theym, but commen wyth others: so wyll we (God belpinge) pre­scribe and assygne [...] certayne preceptes of orderynge noblye and honourablye the lyfe: whyche if not altogether, at least chyefely seeme proper to No­bles. For of others, neither is so great perfection requyred, nor can they ac­complyshe all, for they wante the hel­pes the others haue, and are not a­signed to lyke watche and warde.

Wherefore as they beare other state, place, & offyce in the commen welth: so in teachynge and enstructyng them otherwyse oughte we proceede, and farre vnlyke order and meane ob­serue. Let vs therefore settle to it.

But thys notwythstand [...]nge shall be no newe institucion of Nobilitye, in­uented or Imagined by me, but con­fyrmed [...]

The fyrste Chanell therefore of theyr dutye, and fountayne of all wysedome, is the feare of the Lorde.

Namelye, the true vnstayned worship of God, and sincere relygyon. Wher­wyth Noble men, must euen from theyr cradles be seasoned. I meane not that they learne onelye to knowe God: For euen the Gentyles knowe hym: and Hermes, Pythagoras, Socrates, denyed not there is but one God.

And Plato confesseth the knoweledge, wisedome, and power of God moste certayne: and the ignoraunce thereof manyfest blyndes and wickednes.

For the lawe establyshed first in Iewry, and spreading frō Syon and Hierusalem, to the Chaldees and Egipcians, thence o­uerspedde Afryke and Asye. Whence deriued into Greece, oute of Greece it was shypped into Italye, Fraunce; and other costes of Europe. So as there is none, whose mynde thys opinion of God hathe not pearced. Of the Phi­losophers, some doubted what he was But all affirmed he was.

Some termed him the being of all be­inges, and first mouer, as Aristotle. O­thers an euerlastinge minde and God as Cicero. Nor any time was their any nation so rude or barbarous, nor any one so farre strayed from humanitie and godlines, in whose minde, some forme and Image of this godheade was not grauen. Alike superfluous is it, to wyl them to feare, to beleue god, or pray to him. For the euel feare, the deuels beleue, the Paynems praye. As teacheth Hesiode.

Needeles also it is, to will them par­take in ceremonies and church rytes, with others. For, so much, long since, Isocrates wrate to Demonicus, & the in­fidels obserued. who ordaind publike, priuate, and forreine sacrifices, feasts, wakes, and plaies. These toyes fami­lier euen to the commen sorte, and moste vnciuile people, wholly igno­raunt of gods misteryes: what nedeth [Page]to teache? For Epicures, godlesse per­sons, blasphemers, forswearers, moc­kers, and scorners of Gods Relygion, (if anye bee in this sorte) I deter­myne, no otherwyse then doggs from Sacraments, or swyne from pearles, to bee chased. To whome, this oure talke nor sauoureth nor belongeth. But farre otherwyse bee oure Noble man instituted, and learne hee not on­ly to feare God as iudge, but also to loue hym as Father. And not onely loue hym, but acknowledge Jesus Christ the cause, and aucthour of this loue and reconcilemente. Whome hee oughte beleue to bee God, partaker of one selfe substaunce with the Father, become man, to haue taken fleshe of a wemlesse Virgine, to haue walked in earthe in Seruile forme as man:, to haue taught, proclaimd y^e new league, made Caytifes and sinners iuste and blessed, to haue redeemd wyth hys Crosse the forlorne Captyues, to haue rysen from the deade, ascended with hys fleashe, lefte here a Sacrament of hys bloud and bodye: And there­in [Page]commended to vs, the holye memo­rye of hys happye death, and ensea­led the same, wyth a lyuelye and effec­tuall monumente, as hys Sygnet. To bee the onely heade of the church, not absente, but presente, not deade, but mouinge, quycknynge, and nou­ryshynge hys lymmes. To bee also the husbande of the Churche, whom hee credyteth not as strumpet to a­nye Vycar, but relyeueth from hea­uen warrynge in earthe, ruleth and enstructeth wyth hys spiryte. To bee shorte, to bee the onelye, yea the onely and moste absolute Solycitour. This Chryste, not quartered, but whole, who swaloweth and embraceth by faithe, is a godly Noble man. Whom also hee oughte call on, and reue­rendlye worshippe, and accordynge to knowledge honoure, but onelye hym: Not transferre hys proper honour, to stockes, stones or Sainets. That hee assure hym selfe, this is the true & ca­tholike religiō which kindleth, not quē cheth our faith in him: which aduaun­ [...]eth him, debaseth vs and ours: which [Page]referreth all giftes and receiued bene­fites, to his grace, abateth the pride of our fleshe, the liberty of our wyll, the merites of our workes the swellynge of oure nature. Acknowledgeth hym onely, kinge, Prophete, Byshop, and all in all. This must oure Noble man learne, this must he redite and folow. Who otherwayes hale hym, & whis­per in his eares pernicious heresyes, and phantastical opinyons, muste bee shound & not herd, as proud and pre­sumptuous persons, selfe louers, and estemers of theyr owne workes and worthines. Who vaunt them selues Creatours, Mediatours, Sauiours, Christs, gods. Who better then their lorde, are scarse contented with a try­ple golden crowne where he bare on­ly one, & hit of thorne. Humble christe requireth humilitie, and condemneth arrogance. But humblenes nor we­neth her selfe worthy, nor gloryouslye professeth to iustifie others, but shiel­deth her selfe with the shade of her lorde hovinge in hym, not her selfe: of whom as the Cananite woman or hon­gry [Page]whelp, she beggeth some crumme of mercye. With these instructions ought the minde of our young prynce be seasoned. Whiche must bee sought not oute of mens decrees, but holye wryte. Whiche the Nobles them sel­ues, ought with searche and readinge see, and (not credytinge others eyes) them selues knocke, aske, seeke, to en­ter, finde, receiue. Nor suffer them sel­ues to be scorned of wycked pryestes, feeter for a plough tayle, then a pul­pit. The sounde and onely proofe of true relygyon, is the conference and examinynge of dyuine Scriptures.

Wickedly therfore distinguyshed they (who so firste fatherd it) who termed some spirituall, some laye men, some temporal some seculer. For who wan­teth Gods spirite, is not Gods. The people therfore are spirituall, the laye men spirytuall, the Nobilytie spirytu­all, to flie the fruites of the fleshe, for­nication, Idolatry, & like vices recke­ned to the Galathians. To folow faithe, Charitie, and other good motions, consonant to gods wyll, to scriptures, [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page]to reason, and exacted of the spirytual and Chrystian man. For, shall igno­raunce ercuse them? Then should the same acquyte the Iewes and Turkes. Suffiseth it to depende of the priestes, mouthe? But the Prophetes, Pithonisse. Sothsaiers, Byshoppes, Arche­bishoppes, the gentiles Pryests, were mocked, and mocked. But happelye they will saye, they like the Relygion that lyketh all men. But general­lye all, bothe Iewes, and Gentyles, con­spired to crucifie Chryste. Perhappes they credite receyued custome. But Custom is the vicious scholemistresse of all errours. Nor doe wee all acco­stome oure selues to the beste. Doeth then the lengthe of time argue truthe of Relygion? But the Gentyles erred longe before Christes commynge, and superstytion is anncyente, and vyce grewe euen from Adams fall, and pre­sentlie blossometh. But grounde they on theyr Fathers traditions? If wee credyte Christe, the Iewes brake gods commaundementes, for the traditi­ons and doctrines of men. Shall this [Page]serue, to beleue as newe Prynces and lawes bidde? But howe chaungeable are the willes of men? How often tur­ninges and terrours? wherewith how chaungeable and monstrous shal this faithe bee? And to Cesar muste wee geue what Cesars is: to God, what Gods. God firste stablyshed Relygy­on, whiche Cesar ought nor abrogate, nor alter. One fixed and standynge lawe there is, whyche all oughte knowe, and keepe. Whiche but Cesar and Cesars, but the Pope and Popes fulfill: they encurre the penaltie of damnation, by the iuste iudgemente of the lawe geuer. Manye Emperours de­crees are extant. Much decreed, Helio­gabalus, Caligula, and Iulian. And all Eu [...] ­perours for the moste part empairers of christ. Ought then the people to obeye them? ought the godly lords, sweare to these lawes of their rauynge Prince against Christ? Nothinge more wane­ring then princes will. Shal then reli­gion, and the worde of god, be whirled vpside cowne, at the luste of man? [Page]Perdye, Constantines, and Theodotians, raygne not euerye where and when. Loe so many, so victoryous Emperours deade, yet liueth the Gospel: and they buryed, hit reuiueth. Nor may kings, or Prynces, so choake or smother the seede of the worde, but it wyl sprynge a newe. Heauen and earth shal perish, but the worde of god remayneth fore­ner. Wherefore, sith false superstitions haue had theyr Apollos, Trestles, De­phos, Sees, and mysticall Prophetes, and haue gotten kynges theyr protec­tours, ground on custom, passe in aun­cientie, striue with number and mul­titude, are bolstred by the authoryty of priestes and kinges: other line is there truly, other touchestone, whereby the trueth and sincerity of doctrine, ought be touched and leueled. Profitable is this precepte for all men, but trulye moste necessary for the Nobility.

But greater charge must great men vndertake for the Gospell. Not onely to beleue trulye to ryghtwisenes, but also to confesse franckly to saluacion. For, this vtwarde confession and wit­nesse, [Page]as it is harde and rare, so is it most honourable and commendable: and much moueth the constant & ear­nest assertiō of a noble man. And he in the cause of religion is a moste sub­stanciall witnesse, and moste able to perswade. wherfore euen at this daye we much honour & prayse Nicodemus, and Ioseph the Arimathea, honourable & mightye counsaylours: though secrete nightlye, and eueninge disciples, nor scholers stoute enough of Christ. For in the counsayles and asseblies of the Iewes, they sought occasion to discouer theyr couert fauour, and secrete zeale to Chryst. And professed them selues Christians both in worde and deede, though somewhat more couertly, and secreetely. But the testimoniall of Py­late the presydent, a Pagane, and alyene from the doctryne and fayth of Christ, what, and howe great is it? Who sit­tinge in iudgement, amids the prease of the highe priestes, protested to the people, he founde Christe guyltye of no crime. Then how aggreuedly heareth he his accusers? Howe posteth he & re­ferreth [Page]them to Herode? How excuset & defendeth he him, cyted before hym▪ How lingreth he? ye haue here accuse this mā (ꝙ he) as a seducer of y^e people. But loe, examininge him here before ye, I finde in him none of those crimes whereof ye appeache him. Nor Herode truly. Thē for it was a solemne vsage & necessarye at that high feaste to loase some one: him would he loose. And furne the proffered oportunity, to the safetye of the guiltles person. Which when it succeded not, the Iewes raging past all measure, and crienge crucifye him: he protesteth both againe & again he found in him no crime, and therfore would acquite him. At last when more and more the noise andt uinult grewe, and he preuaild nought: he condemnd him not, but yelded him to their lust. And washed his handes, protestynge him selfe cleare & innocent, of the guilt les bloud. This did a Heathen for Christ against the Iewes, in the Remaines, yea the Emperours cause. Whose crown he was accused to clayme, to denye [Page]him tribute, and forbid others to pay. Shall Chryst at his comming (weene ye) finde such faith in our christian no­bles? Who, their consciences gnawe­ynge agaynste it, persecute causeles, theyr poore brethren, with fyer and sword? Daring not for thē, to qwatch against an vngodlye princes, no not a prelates becke? Who decree agaynst thē, whose cause, either through igno­rāce they vnderstand not, or in secrete conicience allowe: These christyā iud­ges, shal haue at that last & iust iudge­ment, that Heathen Pylate theyr iudge: When Christ shal gloriously come in the cloudes, to redresse his seruaunts wrongs and iniuries. But Pylat: loe, forscoke him not nowe dead, nor could forbeare to graue on his healthfull & happy crosse in Hebrewe, Greeke and La­tine that al nations might read: Iesus of Nazareth king of the Iewes. By whych title, he confesseth him both kynge, sa­uiour & Messias. He gaue also his body to Ioseph the Acimathcan, demaūding it to honourable buriall. And vndertoke his patronage after tombe, and wrote [Page]in defence of him to Tiberius the Em­perour a commēdatory letter. Which Egesippus exemplified out of y^e Romaine records, which I for the singuler pro­tite, haue here subscribed. Pontius Pilate to Tiberius the Emperour sendeth gre­ting. Hit happd of late, as afterwards I proued, that the Iewes deadly plaged them selues & their whole nacion. For where God had forepromised theyr fa­thers, to send them a holye man called theyr kynge, borne of a virgine: & the selfe god, during my lieuetenantshippe nowe sente the same to Iewrye, they se­yng him restore syghte to the blynde, clense the leprous, heale the palseye, cast forth deuelles, rayse the dead, rule the windes, walke drie shoode ouer the waues of the sea, & worke manye lyke miracles: all the commen people con­fessing him the sonne of God, y^e chiefe rulers notwithstanding, moued wyth rancour, and enuy, brought him boūde to me. And forginge crime on crime, affirmed him to be a Sorcerer, and to worke contrary to theyr lawe. Which I crediting, whipped him, & deliuered [Page]them, to vse according to theyr luffes. Whom they crucified, and besette his tombe with a waker watche. Which notwithstanding, my garrison heede­fufly garding the tombe, the third day he arose. Which so redoubled the rage of the Iewes, y^e moneyeng my men, they sought to bie their silence therein.

Which caused thē, more and more to brute the rumour thereof. which ther­fore I thought to certify you, that you suffer not youre selfe, to be misled by y^e missen forminges of the Iewes. Thus fare ye wel. A worthy fact not of Pilate only, but al courtiers & Nobles. wher­in he doubteth not onelye to professe what him selfe thought, But also see­meth to endeuoure, by heapinge his manye miracles, to assaye to hale his emperour to the same fayth. So must Nobles confesse, so call, leade, & allure by al meanes their princes to christian doctrine. So confute & reproue cōtrary [...]ales and sclaunders. And, who other where, in euery tryfle and matter of nothing are stout, & ouerflowe wyth [...]tomake: they much more here shoulde [Page]proue them selues Lions, men, yea noble men. As Dauid also the noblest kynge, who blushd not, before kynges and princes, to talke of Gods prayses. As it is in the psalmes. For this confes­sion seemeth in them more commendable & glorious, then in any other. Nor is there any cause, why they should be ashamed, trulye to professe chryst, and freely from the bothomes of theyr hartes, to protest his religion: but rather such as they ought accompt most glorious. Nor is it a shameful but an hono­rable profession. Nor, shal it ought de­crease, but encrease their estimacion, if in perillous & aduerse times, they be accompted godly and Gospellers.

But then (say they) they must diuorce them selues from wealth, and lyuinge nowe in honourable estate, forth with resigne both honour & richesse. This heauy & importable burthen of pouer­tye, they thinke them selues vnable to beare. But Christe, though otherwise most riche, & rightfullest owner of all they possesse: became for theym moste beggerlye. And whereto lente he them [Page]the same, but to spēd them selues and theyrs to renowme his glorye? But farre is he beguiled, who accompteth this christian profession & crosse, a losse It is the greatest gaine, yea ryghtlye gaineful, not damage. O happye losse, that rendreth hundred folde, both here and hereafter. So as, for earthly ye re­ceiue heauenly, for fading, lasting, for vaine, true, & vnpassable ioyes. Eng­land at this day, ministreth many pre­sidents of gods prouidence. Whereby it is manifest God hourdeth not hate nor is altogether vnmindefull of hys seruants, but at length respecteth his, and locketh vp for them the guerdon of their pacience & confessiō. Many great and noble men, late exiles can I cite, now worshipful gentlemen, knightes lordes, coūtesses, & duchesses, wiues, & virgines of noblest house, plentifullest possessions, most worthy & honourable rulers & counsailours in their coūtrey: who when after the wrack of al theyr wealth, shonnyng the surges of that [...]resēt storme, they fledde to the church no Christyan congregation, then dis­persed [Page]in forreiue realmes, as to a sa­fest baye: nowe the anger of the wrathful god appeased, returnīg with calme sea and prosperous saile, what loste they? Who not onely are restored to theyr former authoritye, but also ray­sed and preferred to hygher. The vir­gine princesse Elizabeth, moste famous for godlines and learning, not dissem­bling, but freely, constantly, and faithfully, disclosing her sayth, tossed wyth many stormye iniuries, afflicted and wounded with many launcinge trou­bles & calamities, pente vp in pryson though a kinges doughter, the quene [...] sifter, where dayly & hourely she awaited present death: what losse at length sustained sh [...]? From infamous prison lifted to the scepters of the realme, frō wailing & dishonor, to glory, frō death to life: & of a prisoner crownd Queene of England: Herein shineth the prouident mercy & politike pitie of our God. who chastneth his for a time, y^e chast­ned w^t his rod, as purged with fier, he may make them worthy higher dignitie, and m [...]ete for greater charge.

But bothe they shrugge, sorowe, and flatly deny, to lose theyr parents theyr Chyldren, theyr wife, and dearest life. Nay, wyl they nil they, they shall lose them, if by denieng Christ, or not con­fessinge him, as they ought, they co­ueyte to keepe them. For who findeth hys life (saith Chryst) shal lose it. And who loseth his life for my sake, shall finde it. For why refuse they to repay this loane of life? Chiefely sith the len­der condicionallye lente it, that when he should demaunde it, we shold faith­fully restore it? why render they it not to hym demaundinge it, who iustlye and rightfully claymeth it as his due? Why sticke they to aduenture theyr lyues for Christe, and surrender hym theyr bodye and bloud, who is their creatour and carpenter? They replye they are of noble bloud. But hit recea­ueth no stayne, by sheadinge in asser­tion of Christes faith: but then is most Noble and precyous in hys syghte, who on the aulter of the crosse, suffred moste plenteouslye hys heauenly and noble blond, to streame oute for oure [Page]sakes. Life is not here by losse, but wonne. Yea & such life, wher they shal finde, other father, other kinne, other brethren, & Sisterne, other ancestours most nearelylinked & coupled to them, not so much by flesh as spirite: where also, with heauenly pleasure and glad some eies, they shall behold & embrace their forefathers foregone them. Blessed therefore are those troupes of hea­uenly soules, who both in former yea­res, & this oure later age, yelded them selues to death in the lord. Who now at length liue euerlastingly: who euer in this life, bare about them death. As oft as I recount the armies of Martirs, I meane not, of so many poore or wel­thy men, so many seruaunts & artify­cers, so many olde grayberds, & grene Imps of all degrees, kinds, ages, both in all other realmes of Christendom, and in this our Englande marchinge towards the skie: but euen of the No­blest & stateliest personages, flieng frō this worlde to the heauēly seates: who for they would needes be confessours, were by the mischiefe of the time made Martirs: so oft greete I them whō this [Page]happe befell, and dreade thothers lot, that did them die. Seeinge the meane whyle, a Noble presidente proposed all men, for Chryst to contemne all drea­des, threates, horrours, and terrours. Whose reuerende trayne the earth a­bādoning, the heauen receiued. There enioye they immortalitie, and perpe­tuall felycitie. Whom no other guilt, then iustice, then constancy, then god­lines condemned. Who seeme to me, not so much with the Noblesse, as the sheading of their bloud, to haue renoū med them selues, and all theyr house. Meruailous, and most reuerend, was that troupe of Alsatian Gentlemen. Of whome in one day (as it is writen) the Bishops burnt an hundred. Innocentius the third, then raging, the yere. 1212. A great nūber, a greuous payne, a trife­ling cause. For they taught, the vse of maryage to be permitted priests, & ea­ting flesh licensed christians at all sea­sons. Out of whose cinders, such gen­try I wishe to reuiue & springe, as not onely ioyfull in prosperity, would try­umpbe with Christe in glory: but also [Page]with hym afflicted suffer: afflicted, wretched, and farsed with calamitie. For hit (if so that Nobility we frame) is garded and accompanyed with such stoutnes of courage, suche hautines of stomake: that in storme it is calme, in basenes Noble [...], in pryson free, in po­uerty plentuous, in darkenes bryght, in exile as at home, in the mids of fier vntouched, vnscorched, not meltyuge, not consuminge. But wee (saye they) are no pryests, teachers, nor pastours. So great perfection is not requyred of Nobility. But sith they be christians, they ought not shrinke to die for christ. And sith they be Nobles, armed with this franke gentry of stomake, so ma­ny bulwarkes of scriptures, so many prooffes and presydents: they oughte dreade no force of Sathans tiranny, no fornace, no rage of flame or fier. For that vnnoble doggyshe Philosopher Diogenes, (a man excellent in wisedom and vertue, albeit in substance bare, surnamed the dogge,) adiudged those most Noble, who contemne pleasure, honours, life: who feare not pouertie, [Page]infamy, death. But to beleue faithful­lye, to embrace with faithe, what true is and sincere, & the same with tounge to blase, and conceiued wordes to con­fesse, and euen to yelde for it throate and lyfe: pertaynes alike to all earnest Christyans, yea to those of the basest sorte. But this is peculyer to Noble men, to relieue the cause of the gospell faintinge and fallynge, to strengthen with theyr ayde empoueryshed religy­on, to shield it forsaken with theyr pa­tronage. For as it is incydente to all wretched, pore, and beggerly to suffer: so to succour the afflicted, belōgth not but to them, who excell in aucthoryty, whose power and lieuetenant labour, god vseth in redeemynge and defen­dynge relygion. Theyr parte hit is, to fight for theyr homes and Churches. They be in maner the pastours of the people, and gardeins of frēdles piety. For great, yea greatest weight, hathe a noble mans iudgemente on either parte. Wherby, both the Tyranny of Prynces is brideled, and the rage of the commen people repressed, and the [Page]pryde of Prelates tamed. And there­fore, as they may, so they ought, rule & moderate kinges with theyr councell, the people with theyr authoritye, the pryests with their grauity. For, neuer had so many bin haled to firc and tor­ments, neuer so many drawen to pre­sente death, ne blasinge brandes: had not Nobles entermedled, & lente theyr wicked ayde: would they haue bin ey­ther sharpe scourges of the wicked, or meanes & intercessours for the guilt­les, & innocēt, or fauourable Iudges to the godly. For not causeles is their authority credited thē. The power wher­of, not in staieng, but sauing the afflic­ted, they ought display. And, as y^t true faith, ought by them be defēded by the sworde deliuered them of god, and the aucthority, wherewyth they are from aboue armed and inuested: so oughte they race oute all the rootes and sutes of superstition: and suffer no delusion of Idolatry creepe into the Churche. Nor must they vnsheath the sworde of theyr authoritye, agaynste the good and guyltles. But all the dreade and [Page]ferrour of theyr power, ought they re­double and reuiue, in restraining, and tormentinge the wycked. Nor muste they raise the bristles of theyr seuerity and sharpnes, against the godly, who in life, & sound opinions, sue christ: but shoote them at y^t wicked & mischeuous persōs. Nothing more noble then po­wer, if it meete with mercy and equy­tie. Heinous of it selfe it is, to staye a man. More hainous, if for erroure of iudgment, not of frowarde wyll. Most haynous, wycked and iniuryous, to disturbe from life, no erronious, but wel minded member.

Much were it to be lamented, if that estate, that oughte to bee a safe Baye and refuge for the godly, should be the plage and butchery of the good. But, as oft as I consyder the frailty of mās nature, and the slippery state of Nobi­lytie: as ofte as I renewe the memory of later yeares: so oft thinke I it may happe, that the Nobles may fall with the people. yea ofte I see, they who most should, stād not aye stoutest w^t the trueth, nor vndertake y^t patronage of [Page]eche rightful cause: but worshyp false and fayned superstitions, and com­maund thē to be reuerenced of others. wherwith also I remember, that eue­ry excellentest nation, and most noble personage, were not only more super­stitious, and seuere in mayntenance thereof, then the rest: but euen more sharpe, and fower. Who more aunci­ent then the Egyptians? who more No­ble? Againe who more superstititous? Who more cruell? Whose myndes were so muche infected with the er­rours of Idolatry, that if any vnwyt­tinge, had harmed the fowle Ibis, the poysonful serpent Aspis, a Cat, dogge, or Crocodyle: the same were alwayes most seuerely, and rygorously puny­shed by the lawes. Thathenians in all mens iudgementes, the Princes of Grece, reuerenced with theyr prophane honor, not onely Minerua, Neptune, and theyr house gods: but Protagoras, for he seemed somewhat to doubte of them, forthwith banyshed. Socrates for he de­nied their godhead, condemned to die. Like was the impietie, and no lesse ri­gour [Page]gor in punishement of the Romaines: on the behalfe of theyr great God Iupiter of the Capitoll, and theyr other mam­meties. For when Chryst dead, was commended vnto them, and proposed to be canonised emonges the rable of theyr Goddes: and Tiberius the Empe­rour had set him in his closet, cōmaunding thē to worship him, the Romaines by a counter decree of the Senate, with­stoode it. And, what they graunted filthiest Idolles & vncleanest spirytes that they (though most politike, sage, & noble men) denied the true liuing god and onely sauiour. Beware Nobilitye therfore, what they decree in their parliamentes, and assemblies. What re­ligion they establishe, what they con­demne. For, after the Romaine Senate, thus denied Christe, nor would admit him either god or guide: what mōsters raignes ensued? What slaughters of Senatours vnder Nero? What sighes and sobbings of the people? What miseries felt they? what gulfes of calamities swalowed the caytifes, their Emperours, wasting them w^t tiranny, the [Page]barbarous nacions spoyling thē, and lastlye the Gotb [...]s & Vandales, frettinge al thin­ges to vtter ruine? And euer since gan the maiesty of the Romain empyre de­cline & wane. The wicked Synagoge [...]f the Iewes reiected Christ, and feared the Romaines more then God. Whose fa­uour and frendshippe they thought to purchace, in crucifieng Christe. But what they feared, not long after hap­ned. For the Romaines after the deathe of Ghrist besteging them, rased the temple of Hierusalem, pasted, spoiled & trāslated all thing [...]. So they, that dra [...]ie Christ to the crosse: found other kinges crosses, & scourges to thē. Let Nobility therfore, which in al thīges chalegeth lordshippe, ruleth al assēblyes, prouide it offend not God the father, if eyther dissembling it deny Christ his sonne, or stubbornelye withstande him, or con­demne Christs quicke & liuely members to fyer and faggot. This to beleue, is the part of true pietie. This to cōfesse, and for the same to suffer, the charge of constancie: This to defēd and with­stand the contrary: the dutie of perfect [Page]Nobility. And thus of the duties con­cerning god and religion, be it hither­to spoken.

Some duties also (as erst I sayd) they owe others, and some respect must be had to the commen societie, and gene­rall corporacion of mankinde. But, albeit no mans safetie, or commoditye oughte be neglected, but all duties emploied on all men, that all maye be wonne to Christe and God: yet shall it be our laboure worth, to deter­mine what duties, with whō chiefely they ought cōmunicate. So muche at least, as shall seeme in eche respect, to this sort of men, & our purpose necessary. Generallye in deede precepts maye be geuen, y^e they do not to other, what they nould feele them selues. To loue their neighbours as them selues. But these are appliable to al partes ef life, and to al indifferently. And spreade to largely through al degrees, & duties. We wil note a fewe, which chiefelye Nobilitye ought practise, and vse, to­wardes speciall sortes of men.

The first therfore they owe to God, [Page]the next to theyr countrey.Piety to­warde their coū ­trey. For this is a reuerence, and louing zeale, grafted in eche gentle courage, to wythe and wyl hit all good, blisse, and fortune:

Which is the common parent, nurse, and preser [...]er of all men. Which pie­tie, worthely honored the Romaines as a goddesse, as it which contayneth all charities, [...]s, and frendships. The lawe of God commaundeth to reue­rence our parentes. Whereby, we en­tend not onelye reuerence due to those of whom we are borne: but also that we are datters of many dutyes, to our countrey, which contaynes our paren­tes, kinsfolkes, frendes, and familiers Wherfore, sith it willeth theym to re­uerence the firste, it is consequente of necessity they honour the last, whyche nurseth and cherisheth thē all, in her lappe, and armes. Nor swarueth this affection, from the meanyng and ma­iestye of the Scriptures. Syth euen Paule wryteth, he is vexed wyth great gryefe and incessant torment, yea and wisheth to be accursed for his brethrē, kynsemen, and countreymen the Iewes [Page]to whome he was linkd, onely by the bond of the fleshe, and zeale of his na­turall soyle and countrey. But, as al men are enforced by natural inclina­cion to loue theyr countreye, wherein they were borne and bredde: so chyefe­ly the Nobles, who receiue more am­ple and large benefites, of the fruyte­fulnes and bountye of the soyle, then the commen sorte. To whom more­ouer they owe, that bothe they be, and are termed Nobles. For, in forren re­almes, that home noblesse is eyther vnknowen, or not so hyghly prysed.

For truly, within theyr owne territo­ries, and the limites of their countrey is the whole ornament of theyr Nobi­litye bounded. But these may profyte singulerlye, yea farre more then the commen sorte. Both quyete, peace, flourishynge: and warlyke in war­fare. In peace, if all theyr polecyes perswade not warre, but peace: yf they garnishe the same with counsayle, wysedome, and good ordinaunces: yf all theyr laboures and sweates tende to the profyte of theyr countrey: if they [Page]applye theyr endeuoure, experyence, and practise to the gouernement of the commen wealth: yf they be disposed to ciuile societye, and meete to continue amiable companye emonges men: yf they can snaffle and brydle the lawe­lesse people: yf they respecte not their owne, but the commen commoditye: if they quenche the flames of ciuyle warres, not w^t armes, but wisedome, and counsaile: if they reuiue sleapyng lawes: if they settle iudgement: if thinges decated, and much misordred, they sowder by lawe: if they procure to spreade through all their regions chri­stian religiō: yf they referre wholy thē selues & al their doings, to the glory of god, the cōmoditye of their commens, the safetie & ornament of theyr coun­trey, and increase of theyr prynces ho­nour. Of warre what to councel, I am not sufficiētly adusted. For neuer gladly blowe I the warre blaste. For the rage of [...], and wrath of battell, hurtful to all men, vtterly disswadeth me to thinke, almost any warre, iust emonges christiās. They must warre [Page]with vices, with ambicion, with selfe loue: and be at defyance wyth pryde.

Which sorte of warre, is both christiā and bloudlesse. In this combat ought they fight, euen to the knees in bloud. For the conqueroures wherein, is re­serued in heauen, an assured incorrup­tible crowne. But mans, yea christiās bloud to sheade, not euer for iuste, and weighty cause: and while princes play (as they say) for balles, or howesoeuer they raue, to plague the poore cōmēs: repugneth w^t nature, reasō, humanity wisedome, diuine, yea & ciuile lawes. Let such therfore, as tender their coū ­trey, & are of authority w^t princes, per­swade yea vneuen peace, to disswade warre, the vtter subuersion of all ver­tues, the seede & roote of al vices. But it for mans sinnes such times happen that it please god, with that plague to reclayme and chasten his whorynge & roaming people: remember they, as whylome Pollux sayde to Commodus the emperour to be warrionrs, not warre louers: wise not willig captaines. For this warlike practise florished alwaies chiefelye emonge those, who were be­set [Page]with enemies. But euery coaste is fraught w^t foes. Hereby the Romaines lengthned the boundes and limits of their empyre, euen to this our Britaine. Hereto, were the Lacedemoni [...]s to prone euen plain warre cockes, borne either to bidd or take battell. Of them ther­fore, manye abounded with warlyke praise: yea, guerdons, prices, and try­umphes, were adiudged the valtaunt. Hence the oken, grasse, wal, citie, and golden crownes. Hence the prefermēt to degrees: hence the many surnames hence their armes, I mages, pensions of the commentreasure: hence the di­vision of landetas to Cesars old souldi­ours, the field Stellas: to Sillas, Velater­rane, and Auentine: and to others other. Hence sprong in times past the name of knightes: kept yet in England and otherwhere. Hence almost al Nobility rose & grewe, as in touching the origi­nal therof we shewed tofore. To thys labour (namelye y^e practises of peace & warfare) I exhorted the nobles some­what aboue, when I touched, they ought not saint & forslowe their eutye in ydlenesse. For worthely is Sardanapa­lus [Page]scorned, as a rascal, esseminat, & wo māly king. Who chose rather amōgs womē to handle the distaffe, & spyndle then to weld weapon w^t men. Agaynst whome, when his lieuetenants Belochus and Arbaces made insurrection: he with his womannishe trayne, scarce she wynge his face in syelde, filthylye fled. And vnderstandynge the losse of the fielde, threwe both him selfe, and his, a mids the tier. Bringe therefore Noble men to the common welthe, warlyke skill and Courage, whyche teasd they may vtter agaynste theyr e­nemyes, the Turkes and other infi­dels. For, sith hindes til the grounde, Craftsemen cleaue to theyr craftes, Preachers warde Churches with the spirituall sworde, against the assaults of Sathan: the Nobles muste in the shadow of their palaices, and in peace, practise and ponder these duties, ere they leaue theyr walls, and take the fielde, whole laboure, theyr countrey more properly challengeth, & thinketh both more commodious and necessary for her. Nor vnworthely. For they re­leassed of bodely trauayle, weare not [Page]hand crafts greatlye, and, sythe they maye well spare them selues this lea­sure, maye labour in these feates: and learne so muche art & skill by vse, as is requisite in any general, at y^e least in a meane captaine. For, without a Cap­taine, an army is (as said Epammondas) as a faier beast. and Philip, those rather an army of harts, vnder the conduct of a Lion, then of Lions, conducted by a hart. For, the chiefe parte of warlike successe, consisteth in a stout and poly­tike captaine.

But the efficient causes and limits of war, may be. For the flocke. For the law, which deuise, Alphonsus king of Arragō, gaue in his armes. Wherto this also may be added. For the prince. For in the Princes, is comprysed the Realmes safety. And thones life, dependeth on thothers welfare. I meane a godlye kinge as Iosias, Ezechiel, Dauid, or suche like. who emploied their seruice, to the king of kings, and established intheyr Realines sincere religion. Otherwise counsl I none to warre, eyther to bol­den Idolatrie, or strengthen wycked­nes, [Page]with worde or deede. Rather oughst thou wythstande hym: wyth thy Councell (not force) to hinder hys attempts. Wythstande hym (I saye) with patience, not power. And feare rather god, then man. For hys flocke the shepherd: For theyr countrey, the Codries, Decians, and Curtians die. Iu­stest is the quarel, for lawe and fayth. If the whole consent, and concorde of all, or the moste parte of the good, ioyne: bee they stirred of zeale, (God callyng them for hys glory) to obtaine what they coueyte: then knowe they, this last and extreame remedy, to bee moste commendable. Howe muche more detestable they are, who not de­fende, but betraye theyr countrey. (As Tarpeia Roome,) Or theyr Prynce. As Pyrrhus Phisician, whom Fabrit [...]us sent backe bounden. Or the law and rely­gion. whiche happeth, as ofte as rely­gious cay tifes, to esiablishe theyr pry­uate gaines, and dignities, receiue in­to the bosome of theyr Countrey, a straunger, and forren Prynce.

Nor haue regarde of ought, so they may with foren violence, mayntayne theyr olde rooted superstitious opiny­ons, and retaine the Roman heresies. Contrariwyse, shall oure Noble man demeane hym selfe. And bende all hys myghte and mayne, agaynste forren force. Not raunsome, or mayntayne his fanly, with the destruction & death of bys countrey. Mischieuous is this pol [...]e [...]e, with the losse and ruyne of the Realine, to stablishe theyr pryuate o­pinyon, and accomply she theyr owne luste. O horrible treason, wantinge worthy cerme.

Towardes the multitude cke, and commen sorte, some duties muste bee obsecued: that Nobilitie maye (as it were) flowe, into all mens hertes. To winne them with curtesy, not affray them with cruelty. Whereof muche maye, and somewhat hath ben sayde. Which here it needeth not tediouslye to repeate, or other lyke causeles to heape. Aristotle mencioneth in his Po­litikes, an horrible othe vsed in certaine states, consistinge of the regimente of [Page]sewe Nobles: in maner, thus: I will hate the people, and to my power per­secute them. Which is the croppe and more, of al sedition. Yet to much prac­tised in oure liues. But, what cause is there, why a Noble man, shold eyther despise the people? or hate them? or wrong them? What? know they not, no tiranny maye bee trusty? Nor how yll gardē of cōtinuance, feare is? Fur­ther, no more may Nobilitie misse the people, then in mans body, the heade the hande. For of trueth, the commen people are the handes of the Nobles, sith them selues bee handlesse. They labour and sweate for them, with til­linge, saylinge, running, toylinge: by Sea, by lād, with hāds, w^t feete, serue them. So as w^toute theyr seruice, they nor eate, nor drink, nor are clothed, no nor liue. we rede in y^e taleteller Esope, a done was saued by the helpe of an Ant. A lyon escaped, by the benefite of a Mowse. We reade agayne, that e­uen Ants haue theyr choler. And not altogether quite, the Egle angerd the bytle bee. For, albeit careles and safe­lye [Page]thou despise eche seuerally: yet not without perill, prouokest thou all vni­nersallye. Right godly therefore, and wisely saith Augustine. The multitude is not so contemptuous for theyr sym­ple power: as dreadfull for theyr huge nomber. For many litle wormes may slay. And cast ought mids a swarme of fleas, shal it not be eaten? Wherfore, neither sharply, nor rigorously, nor ti­rannously, must they entreat the peo­ple. Sith no mans power, may match the might of many. Rather must they loue them, as the greatest, and befte parte of the common wealth. And bee they subiects, they are so muche more to bee loued, for they yelde them theyr labours, whose profites they enioye. As the father to his children, the king to his subieccs, the good husbandman to his grounde: so ought the Nobility, be affectioned towards the commens. Whom they ought winne and ioyne to them, by vertue, as a moste effectu­all charme. But, howe loue is purcha­sed, and entrie made into the myndes of the multytude: Excellentlye lear­neth [Page] Cicero in hys seconde booke of du­tyes. Whome I leaue the Nobles euen agayne and agayne to pervfe.

And this is the firste parte, concer­ning theyr countrey & commen welth.

The other is,Agremēt of the Nobles. that Nobilitie agree not onelye with the people, but euen liue, and loue, within it selfe. For, hit suffiseth not, the Commens and lor­des agree: but also it both beseemeth, and behoueth, the Lordes bee sowde­red amongs them selues. Sith hence also, spryngeth Ciuill iarre and dys­corde. For, stoute stomakes, cannot beare pryuate grudges, withoute the commen misery and calamitie. which wel wytnesseth, the rage and madnes of C. Cesar, and the twinninge of. Cn. Ponpeye, the great from him his father in lawe. whyche caused the alteration of the state, and newe countenaunce of the Empire. For, this is no play, or pageant, nor any counterfait combat, or stage Tragedy, sweatelesse or bloud­lesse, nor Homeres fraye twixt froggs and Myse: But the frayes and com­bats of Noble and myghtye men, [Page]are, as the graspinges of Lions, or gi­ants warres, who ioyne with greate power, greater stomakes, but greatest peril of eyther part. Although, nor Li­on deuoureth the Lyon, nor dogge the dogge, nor wolfe the wolfes kynde. So as nature it felfe, withoute other reason, sufficientlye crieth oute on it. For it is, as if the limmes of one selfe body, should iarre. Were it not mon­strous, and vnnatural, (thinke ye) the heads should wyshe it selfe ache?

The hand should buffet hym selfe? the lounge curse hit selfe? For easely then ceasseth any theyr Tirannye to other lymmes to seeme cruell, when thus they rage agaynste them selues. But whereto forceth not ambition mortall mindes? Whiche lightlyest breedeth in the highest wittes, and hawtyest courages. Yet lesse yll, and more tol­lerable were hit, if only with hit selfe, hit conceaued, quickned, & tranayled. But it brasteth and blaseth forth. And what mischieue, (enflamed wyth the lust of raygne) it hath erst imagined o­ther: that now it compasseth. And ha­leth [Page]aye in her gard enuye, her vnpar­ted bandmayde, the bawde of all her mischieues. Enuye agayne, comes not vnaccompanied but couples to her an other mate, namelye crueltye, ar­med and furnished for the deathes and slaughters of many. Hence commeth it that Nobilitye can beare no peere, and all ambicion is impaciente of mate. For enuye gloyteth with blou­dye looke, breatheth mischiefe, and whetteth and sharpneth crueltye.

So as goare enuy so dimmeth y^e eyes of the minde, and clipseth all the sen­ses: as it respecteth nor friend, nor kinsman, nor alie, nor his owne deare and german brother. For rare is the concord of brethren. And theyr brea­thes moste bitter and pestilent. Naye, the bloudy sonne runneth on the syre. As Absolon burnyng and ragyng with ambicion, on Da [...]yd, hys father and most godly kynge. This deadly dew [...] of enuye, croppeth aye greene, sprin­ging, and growyng vertue. So as, if anys prince surpasse in power, excell in learnyng [...], flouryshe in wytte, or [Page]passe in any singuler ornament, hynt strayghte it assayleth, assaulteth, op­presseth. Which the Athenians commē wealth, whilome proued most true, in their oystershel exyle, and the deathes of the valiaunst Themistocles, iustest A­ristides, eloquentst Demosthenes, godliest Socrates. For gladlyer vouche I forren & stale examples, thē pryuate & freshe. Albeit, I see in these dayes, Tarquinius bloudy counsel renewed. who is reported walking in his garden, swolne w^e hate & pride, to haue felde with a wād the highest poppie heades. Cruel land of Canaan that deuoured her inhabitantes. Cruell Scithya manqueller, & men monger. But w^e such hate and enuy is our Nobles ambicion medled, & wyth so horrible cruelty enflamed: that eche noble man wounds his owne limme, & turnes towards him selfe, his rage and furious force. Rare is in Germanye rarer in Switzerland, the presidente of a subiectes death. But rarest of all the execution of a ruler, or magistrate.

Not onely for they seeld offend: but at­so, for they thinke it ought be a wonde [Page]rous crime, wherfore they should part from their body, so noble & precious limme. Esaye crieth. Ye princes of So­dome and Gomorrhe, youre handes are dyed with bloude. And woe to that nacion, where no Nobility nor affini­tye of bloude, saueth from shamefull slaughter, where is no respecte of dig­nitye, no roome ne refuge, left for mercye. Where one Noble man, is hang­man or butcher to another: or rather to him selfe. Who seeme not (in my conceyte) according to their grauitye, to weyghe discreetlye enough, nor the weyghte of the facte, nor worthynesse of the person. For, yf but a while, they would mūble with them selues, euen but these fewe wordes (A noble man must die) and therein examine what it is to dye, what a Noble man to dye: theyr furie I thinke woulde lyghtelye swage, and they not rent from lyfe, so noble limme, eyther for lighte cause, or often vniuste. Cicero reckeneth eyghte fortes of punyshementes, c­monges the Romaynes. Damage, emprysonment, whipping, recōpence, [Page]shame, eryle, seruitude, death, whyche seeld, and not but fustly, and for great cause were executed. But, so were the lyghtest applyed, as the feare ofte spredo to many, the payne to sewe.

But that they seeldst wonted to exe­cute any Romaine Citesin, it appeareth by Cicero, not once onely in his Actions agains Verres. In the seuēth of which be dwelleth altogether in amplysieng this crime: and this last, & weyghtyest argument, reserueth to the reare ward most to moue the iudges. Emonges the rest, of a citesen, cruelly & sharplye scourged, by Verres commaundement, thus speaketh he to the Iudges. ‘A Romaine Citezen my lordes, at Messana, in the middes of all the markett. was whipped. When, as all the while no sighe, no other crye of y^t poore wretche mids the smarte and clashinge of hys stripes, but this was heard. I am a citesen of Rome, He hoped perdye, by this mencion of the city, be shoulde haue scaped all strypes, and shielded al tormentes from his torne body. But this not onely nor preuayled him, to [Page]auoyde the crueltye of his scourge: but mids his ofte cryeng mercye, and re­sounding the cityes name: a galowes yea a galowes, I saye, was prepared, for the vnhappy and wretched caytise: who neuer tofore bad seene so lawe­lesse power. O swete name of libertye O the fauourable lawes of our citye. O the lawe of Porcius and decrees of Sempronius.’ Thus spake he of one whipped by Verres. O, sawe he at one instant, for no cryme, so many famous Nobles, so manye honest citesens, so many Magistrates and heades of Ci­tyes, not of forteyners, or rascals, but euen of the noblest, yea Prynces, yea of theyr owne degree, haled to slaugh­ter, and done to death: Howe would he roare? With what cryes, what cou­tenaunce, would be accuse this cruell enuious, & ambicious rage? Yf it be by hys wytnesse, a baynous crime to bynde a citesen, a mischiefe to whyppe him, yea almost parricide to slay him: what shall I saye, to preferre him to the galowes? What to beheade him? What to shone flame, burnyng fyer, [Page]and other tormentes, to the tender bo­dyes of noblest personages? No more to spare the bloude or life, of a Noble man: then a hegge or dogge? Pardon I praye, if I be some what to hotte, in reclayminge those importunate natu­res (whom ouermuche madnes hathe blynded) from so great, so cruel discord and vnmeasurable rigour. With Esaie therefore, I counsayle all Princes and Nobles to be cleare from bloude, to iudge iustlye, and mercifullye, ioyntly to foye and sorowe, to pardon eche o­ther, to acknoweledge theyr owne faultes, and forgeue theyr offenders, not to punyshe all offences so rigo­rouslye, not to treade vnder foote nor afflict innocencye, to clense their blou­die handes, and nourishe mutual con­corde emonges theym selues, to ba­nyshe discorde, borne of ambition, nursed by enuye, fedde by cruelty, and consure her to the Crowes, to the fu­ryes Alecto, and Megera, farre hence, to the Indes, to Hell. For, as concorde mayntayneth and encreaseth priuate, and publike wealth: quieteth the Sub­iectes [Page]at home, dryueth terroure and dreade in theyr enemyes: so the Nobi­litye lyuynge in tumulte, and discord, bothe theyr owne myghte is hocked, and the foundacions of the commen wealth are shaken, theyr subiectes wrynge, theyr frendes mourne, theyr enemyes laughe and tryumphe, for so wyde gappe opened to spoyle them.

Thys, other commen wealthes proue and euerye corner is farsd with exam­ples, as well emonges the Heathen, as Christians. I coueyt here to ouerpasle our countreyes sore. I would wishe, oure ciu [...]le broyles were knowen but at home. But sith, of theyr owne force and bitternes, they vtter and blase theym selues, moned with loue and conscience, I can not whollye couer them. Let therefore my countreymen pardon me in this one poynte, muche pertinent to theyr safety. I thinke, had thei rather chose to cleaue in one, with mutual cōsent, thē thus to be distrai­ted with dissencion: nor had the ciuile sword shedde so muche Noble bloude, [Page]nor ennemies sodayne roades, of late refte so many garrisons. The truthe can not lye. He sayeth. Euery kynge­dome deuided, and scuered in it selfe becometh desolate. And euery city and house farring can not stande. Yf eche Noble man roote out other, Nobility [...] may not last: nor the commen wealth lyue, her strength and flower wythe­red. Truly, this thinke I, Nor Iulius Cesar had made our Britame tributarye had he not at his entry found the princes and rulers of the realme at vary­ [...]unce: (for both before his commynge they kepte continuall warres, and af­terwards the Troinouantes the strongest citys (whych nowe we call London) the Catimagns, Secuntiats, Ancalites, Bibrokes, and others yelded theym selues, and manye at his comminge (as him selfe reporteth in his commentaries) rebel­led from Cassiuellantius, who then ru­led the realme) nor yet the Saxones, nor that VVilliamthe Normayne Conquerour, woulde euer haue attempted to in­nade it: had they not (procured by often messages) in maner presente­sentlye, [Page] behelde the iarringe, and dys­cordante state of the Nobles. To con­clude, nothinge plageth England, but the many breaches, and euer vnsure, neuer faithful, frendshyppe of the No­bles. What wonder then, though the ennemy oppresse, the weake vnatined remnant, and open parte to iniurye? Sith alwaye, the surest armour, and strongest wall, is theyr stedfast and constāt amiry, who are most of might and power? What mcruayle, though other ouerrunne them, when they seeke, to riue theyr owne throte? For, to ouerpasse the aunciente and elder presydentes, & to giaunce by the later grieues euen with one word, was not the twinninge of oure Nobles, the meane to al our misery? Let me vouch for example, Edward Duke of Somer­set: Prince of passing godlynes, No­blest house, trustiest Protectour of the younge Kings person: emprysoned for a trifle, yea a light suspicion, and be­headed. whose life, all men prosecute, with worthy prayse and commenda­tion: his death, with due teares, and [Page]lamentacion. For, when he being pro­tectour of the Realme, a moste trustie and good Garden to hys orphane Prynce, a man godlye suspicyous, and scareful for hys Kynge, permitted his brother the Admyral, by others sleights for fewe vnproued suspicyons, to bee headed: Hym selfe, shortlye after towered, by the meanes of the Duke of Northumberlande, (a man trulye of a stoute and hawtye Courage, and in warre moste valyaunte: But to muche ragynge wyth Ambycyon.) with the selfe same kind of death, that tofore his brother, (O worthy man) to the great sorow, and mourning of the whole Realme, was beheaded. Who once deade, wee were shortlye after robbed of our Christal Kinge. Whose death, ensued the chaunge of Keligiō. And somewhat after, the selfe Duke, pent in y^e selfe pryson, appeachd of like crime, ended hys lyfe by lyke death. Nor onely he, but euen all, that by cor­rupted and suborned wytnesses, con­spired the protectours death. Euer [Page]since the commen wealth waned, and we lost oure passingst men, our highest honours, oure chosen Nobles, our ho­nourable Nobylytie, oure valiauntst guides. with what slaughters, (O im­mortall God) what murthers, what butchery of the good, with what strea­mes of noblest blond, yea with what mens blond, that he that lande, sweate and surrounded? which I recount not, for hate or enuye of anye, (for the con­triuers of these mischieues, are all re­dye deade: And enuie freates not the dead [...]) But, that by theyr example, ei­ther the quycke maye amende, if anye remayne yet, accessaryes to so shame­full sinne: or others maye be warned, and ware, to encurre lyke faulte and penaltie. The same maye wee see, in the Athenians and others. But one ex­ample sufficeth.

Who slayeth, shall be slayne. who ill pretendeth to other, shal be preuen­ted, and meashd in hys owne purpose. As Hesiode, hauynge perhaps proued it, euen in his dayes songe.

Remember they, who laye violent hands on other, how borrible hit is, to fall into the handes of the lyuing god. Who is not onely carefull of his, but euen knoweth all, and euerye them. And hathe nombred all the heares of theyr heade, and wyll espie if any die. And (if vniustly) not leaue hit vnpuni­shed. Wherfore, auant that churlishe Nemesis, and enuious Ate. Departe hence factions, in the deutls name. God is charity, and who is not in charitie, is not in God, nor God in hym. What? shall a Noble mans courage, be pent vp with such impotence, suche enuy, suche basenes of stomake, as the dunghyl, and wretched rascall people? The potter hates the potter, as (Hesi­ode saieth), the Poete the Poete, the Chantour the Chantor. But god for­bid, one Noble man should hate ano­ther, sithe enuye, wythoute horrible blame, and mischiefe, cannot pearce their hartes, Greater and higher, then whom enuy maye subdue. And, howe [Page]shall hee loue the people, who hateth his owne degree? Wherefore, if they couet to saue the commen weale, to maintayne theyr dignitie: this is the moste compendious meane, that ney­ther feare, hate, or threate other: Nei­ther iarre with other, neyther conspire others death, and destruction: But all suspicion seuered, they cleaue together with ioynte hart, and minde. And so be lynked with the insoluble chayne of charitie, as with one consent, they stu­die to preserue theyr countrey, to with stande theyr enmy, to loue the people, and with absolute concorde, and vny­tie, to be sowdred and glued in Christ. The restoring of which happy calme, in these oure dayes, to the Chrystian worlde, after the stormy warlike tem­pests: I greatlye ioye, and wishe hit christian, and euerlasting. And greete to our England, the brightnes of this season, and the sommer dayes, whiche god hath graunted our noble Queene Elizabeth: Under whose raygne, all these storms are appeased, and stilled. whych quyetnes, I hope shall▪ and be­seche [Page]almighty god, maye bee euerla­styng. But this ought the Nobles per­forme both to shew fauour to theyr in­feriours, and louingly agree amongs them selues. No fond councel, though a Sithian, Jaue one Silurns dienge to his Chyldren. To whom, hee gaue abun­del of bruckle arow steales, to breake. which when they could not: seuered he easely cracked them in theyr sight, whom bound in bauand al they coulde not crushe. By which dumme shew, he signifyed to his childrē, (whom he had in number. 80.) that with cōcord they might be inuinctble, with discord ease­ly rēt. what els is nobility then a ma­ner brotherhead? As natural brethren then, ought they cherishe, shyeld, aide, and embrace eche other: but they wyll rather together with their country, w^t the reste of the people, peryshe. For, if tarringe they lose one, all the rest flit­tinge and scattering, wil lightly stumble in the selfe pit of perdycion. And, if any rauener, rente and deuoure one, hee wyll seuer also the reste, tyll hee haue spente all. Euen as the lanar, se­uereth [Page]firste from the whole flighte one doue, and then another, that sith at once conioynd hee coulde not, at sundrye tymes dysioyned, hee maye suttelly inuade and deuoure all. For coupled strēgth is stronger, as the olde poesy is. wicked is he, that chaseth not if he may, his approchinge enemy. but how muche more hated, both of god & man ought he bee, who renyenge hys countrey, flieng his felowes, sueth the [...]nmy campe, & betraieth the Realme? Plutarche mencioneth one Cretinus a ci­tezen of Magnesed, who longe tyme w^t one Hermias had borne pryuate grudge Yet, when Mithridates warre began, in open assēbly, counsayled to choose Her­mias general, recknīg & commēdig hys many vertues. which Hermias hearing willingly yelded, & departed into volū tary exile, y^e Cretinus mought bee gene­ral of y^e army. So, ought, all priuat of­fences bee buryed, and commen perill foyne euē y^e deadliest foes: to performe their cōmen duty, w^t commen consent. That, asmuch as in thē lieth, thei nor harine theyr prinate enemye, nor ayde [Page]theyr foren soe, nor suffer the common wealth to be abandoned, whiche well may the elustering concord of the No­bles, performe. wherof is now suffici­ent sayde.

They ought also practyfe, another vertue towardes others,Liberali­tie. namelye ly­berality. For, nothinge more purcha­seth mens fauoure and frendshyppe. whose prayse, as it ought bee common to all riche: so is espectally moste pro­per, to Noble men. For euer, a Noble courage, accompteth hit more happe, to helpe, then bee holpen: and to bee a geuer then taker, to vse Aristotles wor­des, yea, rather reckneth hit a shame, and staine to his honor, to take: glo­rious to geue. For, bothe they haue to geue, and none geue more largelye or readelye. So as, almoste by no ryffer prooffe, may you reade a Noble man, then by geninge wyllingly, often, and bountifully. wherefore, the Hebrewes cal them prynces, which emplyeth, ly­berall, bountiful, halfe gods, and No­ble men, euen of theyr-owne accorde and nature, free barted. whych word, [Page] Christe in Luke conuerted thus. Theyr kynges rule them, and suche as haue power ouer them, are called benefici­all. That is bountiful. Whereof, both an honorable proofe, and worthy wit­nesse is Alexander the great. Whome scarsely suffised the great treasures of Darius, to powre out on his frendes.

With whom, he thought his treasure most safelye kept and horded. Perillus suynge to him for dower to marye his daughter, he wylled to take fiftye Ta­lentes. Which when he modestlye re­fused, aūswereng that ten suffised: He replyed, perhaps for the to take, but not for me to gyue. This princely sto­make, ought all Nobility wonder at, and according to theyr power smitate. For, albest in welth they be not Alex­anders, yet in minde and bounteful be­neuolence they maye be. All see they maye: such is theyr abilitye.

Men weene also they ought, sith it be­houeth as they haue freelye receyued muche, so to render somewhat, to suc­cour the necessities of others. Whych also our Paule writyng to Timothe com­maunded, [Page]willing theym not to place theyr confidence in vncertayne riches, but in the liuing god. And to smitate his heauēly example, who ministreth all men aboundauntly, and largely to theyr needes: that they maye he boun­tifull, riche in good deedes, liberal cō ­municaters and emparters of bene­fiees, large and bounteous. And here­to knitteth he rewarde, namelye, that layeng here this sure soundacion, they may obtaine euerlasting life. Thus must he despise mouie, as a heauy and vnprofitable clogge to him. mounting to greater and higher hope. For howe shall a money slaue, rightlye rule o­thers? Or howe maye he be termed free, who serueth a thing reasonles, & lifeles? They ought therfore neglecte money, not as some vnwise Philoso­phers, and frowarde & foolishe sages. Who eyther cast away their goods, as Diogenes his cuppe and maser for he see a boye make the same of the holowe palme of his hand. Or drowned them in the sea, as Aristippus and Crates. Or lefte them behind, when they myght [Page]haue saued them, as Byon. Or negly­gentlye forsooke them, and let theyr groundes lye waste, for others beastes to pasture, as Anaxagoras & Democritus. But, neither lauishe they out theyr goodes, as prodigall, nor bestowe thē on vicious persons, as manye hippo­crites and ambicious. But in pla­cing benefites, weyghe what is eche mans due. So much therefore, of Cice­ros notes of bountifulnes, as shal seem expediente to this place, I with fewe wordes and briefely, wil mencion out of oure Scriptures, as farre forthe as seemeth loyned with a Noble mannes dutye.

So therfore must liberality be tem­pered, and limyted, that chiefely there­in two faultes be auoyded: that ney­ther you bestowe on the vnworthye, or needelesse, nor seeme bountifull for besire of honour and glorye, or hope of gayn. So ought there be choice and ac­compt of person, & the ende respected. Of the ende, Christ spake in Mathewe in that fyrste, and heauenlye sermon, he made to his disciples in the mount.

When he sayeth, almes is to be ge­uen not in mens syght, for shewe, nor after the trompets blast. as Hippoer [...]tes in the Synagoges, and streetes, for they would be seene and praysed of men. But of the ende, and other thynges that mought be heaped hereto, I will here saye nothinge. It shall suffise, to adde so much, as shall seeme pertinent to the callinge, and function of a No­ble man, touching those personnes on whom this liberalitye oughte be em­ployed.

Liberali­tye to­wardes Beggers.The first therfore, and neediest are beggers. Whom in no wyse he ought forget, who dependeth as a beggar on the almes of god. Of whom so many, so great giftes he receyueth daylye.

These mencioneth Chryst in Luke, in the Pharisces banket, in thys maner, lessoning his feaster. When thou ma­kest a dyner or supper, call not thereto thy frendes, brethren, kinsfolke, nor thy riche neyghbours: least they crosse the with like, and so requite the. But when thou bankettest, call to thee the poore, the lame, the halte, the blynde. [Page]And happy art thou then, for they can not requite thee. Wherein, bothe he touched those Pharisaicall feasters, and also, noteth not a fewe of our dayes.

Who geue not the needye, but suche of whom they hope or awayte, hon­gerlye the doubled worth. Nor anye where. truer proues that olde sawe, Like will to like. For to feastes and bankettes not the needy and hongrye (as oure sauioure willeth) but the Noble, the ryche, & the feasters felowes flye. Who are able to recompence theym, and render lyke, yea with vsurye.

But, best deserued they of the commē wealth, who first founded hospitalles, and almes housen, for poore and wretched lasers. Where not lasie loyterers or welthy dissemblers: but the weake and nedye, mought be harboured.

For, euery where is stoare enought of vagaboundes, & none more theuishe, sluggyshe, or dissolute in all lycenci­ousnes: then the wanderynge sculles, of roges and roamyng beggers.

Whyche well by experience, espyed [Page]that famous and worshipfull gentle­man Anthonye Caue, of worthy memo­rye: my beneficiall patrone and tutor. Who beinge in Buckinghamshire, com­missioner and Iustice of peace: trauay­led day and night to banishe this sorte And, at length by his witte, industry and polecie, compassed, that prouision was made for the weake, wydowes, orphanes, and aged: and the stout and mighty lubbers compelled to laboure. So that at laste, almoste no where through the whole shyre, shoulde you fynd a vagaboūd. This was pryuate. But that of the city of London, publike & most cōmendable: worthy eternitie, and immortalitye: founded in the for­tunate reigne of king Edwarde the syxt, Where in a large roome with wages maisters, seruauntes, & all other ne­cessaries allowed, & ministred, an in­numerable multitude of poore is fed: the healthie laboure, the sicke, lame, deafe and blinde, are cured: many children bred, some to occupations, some to searninge and studies: that in after times, maye serue eyther the churche, [Page]or the common wealth. Which wyth such like, I tell to this ende. That e­uery noble man, in his Shire, Citye, or Countreye, maye in like maner, to theyr power, prouyde the realme be not charged, or whelmed wyth that wanderyng and pernici us draffe of vagaboundes, and lasye loyterers.

Be this therfore decreed, that liberal­lye they ayde the needye, that simplye they geue, not suttellye let to vsurye a benefite. And such gifte scripture ter­meth an almes and pitye. For it is geuen to the pitied and almes worthy The Philosophers call it bountye, be­nignitie or liberalitie.

Liberali­tye to­wards the learned.Let also a Noble mans chest open to the famous in skyll, or studye of knowledges. For in times paste, kin­ges, Nobles, and al honourable, were protectours and nurses of learnynge, learned, and studentes. And accomp­ted (as it were) Apollines, and mayne­tayners of the Muses, who (in maner) watered and refreshed with their li­berality, as plentyfull dewe, the same sterued or destitute.

Whom vnlesse the ayding and bene­ficial hand of Nobles assiste, and sup­porte: necessarily must they faynt and fall. For artes are fed by honour, pre­ferments, aydes: and faynte throughe want, contempt, and pouertye. Hence springe those bothomles prayses, and glorious titles of Alexander the greate, Hence those of Augustus, and Mecenas, prynted by the famous pennes of O­uide, Virgile, & Horace. But that other king of the Macedons munificence, Anaxagoras, D [...]ogenes, and many other, both proued and praysed. Whose emba [...]sa­do [...]rs bringing Xenocrates. 50. talentes whē he refused, aunswering, he neded not so much, & notw^tstanding of curte­sye, seing thē somewhat dismayd, toke 30. poundes: the kinge willed him, to gratifie any his frend (if any neded it) with y^e rest. To Anaxarchus, he sent by his cofferer so much as he requirrd. Namely a. 100. calentes. which he not onely not denied, but seemed in maner to thanke him, for be would so boldly demaūd it of him, as his frende, whoe both mought and would geue it hym. [Page]For, this cause, with immortal than­kes, and euerlasting memory, oughte they be honored, and reuerenced, who first founded schooles, and vniuersi­ties: appoyntinge stipends, and priui­leges, aswel for the studious to learne as professours of artes to teach. wher­with, we wont to be allured, and pro­uoked to study paynefully, and profite merely. But gone is that golden age, present are our brasen and iron yeres▪ wherin, who ought augment these be­nefites, are rather spoylers, then pa­trones of learninge. Who either by flattery, sute, or extorcion, seeke theyr pryuate gayne in students reuenues: and compasse, rather to rase, what is builte, than to laye or found new. To many politike artificers, bee there in this suitle, and wylye skil. who, either purchase for noughte, of wardens and Rectours of colleges, theyr lands and liuings: or enter on them ere they fal, or ayded by the Prynces letters pa­tents, dispossessinge the olde tenaunt, wyl in spite of theyr nose become their tenaunts: or if the heades denye theyr [Page]requestes, chafe like younge Dukes, and threate I wot not what, to the whole felowshyppe. But otherwyse would I oure Noble man bothe doe, and meane. To surmount the benefi­tes of his auncestours, to mayntayne the dignity of learninge, to augmente their profites, to employon them with a gentilmanly frankenes, so muche as they want, & shal not be burdennus to him selfe. To garnishe also libraryes, with store of bookes, is not the leaste commendation of Nobility Wherein Ptholomeus Philadelphus, whylom excel­led. Which prayse is nowe descended, to the Noble familye of the Fuggers. Next,Liberali­tye to­ward [...]s Goddes Saynctes. be liberality vnlocked to them, who suffer for religion, and areempri­soned, or otherwyse afflicted for Chri­stes cause. For, in the Apostles time, they bestowed their almes on the god­lye poore. And Paule, ofte gathered for the brethren at Hiernsalem, and others. And councelleth the Galathians, bothe generally to be bountifull to all men, but chiefely to the householde of faith. For what wee contribute to the god­lye, [Page]and the persecuted for Religions sake, is most accepted of god. and who receiueth them, receiueth Chryst. Yea who receyueth a Prophete, in the name of a Prophete, or a iust man, in the name of the iuste: shall receiue the reward of a Prophete, and righteous. And who geueth the least of these, but a cuppe of cold water, to drinke in the name of a Disciple: shal not misse hys rewarde. Howe much the detestabler is theyr myschieuous beneficence, and accursed bountie, who not to feede, or clothe, hungrye or naked, Christe: but rather to spoyle, and dysrobe hym, not to cheryshe, but rende hym, not to saue, but staye hym: lauishelye power oute, and waste theyr goods, welth, and power. And who, to aduaunce su­persticion (not builde Religion) ey­ther renew raised Monasteryes, or found new. Rigorous in sacking the poore, but superititiouslye Relygious in dec­kinge Images, Masses, Relikes, par­dons, pilgrimages, clothinge Sainets counterfaites, prodigally, & wyckedly liberall.

Which erpence is so much the lamen tabler, as it is in the mids of the light of the Gospell vsed, and for they ryfle from the good, and gospellers, what they bestow on the euel. And turne the substance of the godly, as the rent and scattered relikes of theyr life, to horri­ble abuse. But these, haue other where theyr pryce, worthy theyr deedes. In meane time, ill gotten, and worse spent, worst wasteth. but what is em­ployed on godly vses, and subsidies of the holy Sainctes, shal with vsury re­turne to the owner. So as for carnall thinges, he shall reape spirituall, and heauenly. And thus, hitherto haue we entreated, of theyr reuerence to theyr countrey, theyr loue of the multitude, concorde twixt them selues, almes to­wards the poore, liberality to the lear­ned, bounty to the godly. which all, be members of the commen wealthe, whom as germane brethren, this our Noble man oughte embrace, with fa­uour and amitie.

Nor oughte theyr beneficence bee withholdē, but emparted with straū ­gers, [Page]soudred,Hospital­tye to­ward [...] Straūger [...] and (as hit were) graf­ted, in the commen weale. which ver­tue is termed hospitality: namely commended to the Iewes, in the old law, by god. whom hee wylled, to be curte­ous to straungers, who were pilgry­mes erst them selues, in a forren land. For, lyghtlye learne they that haue proued like misery, to succour misers. And are moued with greater compas­sion, and sence of others griefe. Cesar therfore commended the Germans, for they thought it detestable to missuse a straunger. And shielded all suche, as for anye occasion fledde to them, from wronge: accompting them holye, and communicatinge all theyr house, and tables with them. The Britains, chiefe­lye the Kentishmen, hee termeth of all other most ciuile. which it appeareth, was preiudiciall to them, & the chiefe cause of Cesars warre. For they ayded the frenchmen, his enemies, and suc­courd them with frendly and commo­dious harborough. Beware the newe Germans and Englyshmen, they chaunge not, but continewe this manour, and [Page]custome. which so much the more they ought, for, as nowe they exceede theyr elders, in Christianity: so oughte they passe them in vertues. That charge, credited Paule to the bishoppes. Name­ly to entertaine, and loue straungers. Nor lesse carefull ought Nobles bee, whose power as hit is greater, and more abundant: so ought theyr boun­tie be larger, & plentifuller. For, sithe Monkes, eche where, haue yet good names her [...]fore: ware oughte Nobles bee, who succeaded in theyr Roomes, and setsed theyr possessions, that here­in they proue not their inferiours. Nor yelde to them in this practise of Cha­rity, whom farre they passe in purenes of farthe. Therefore, as ministers, so noble mens part it is, to prouide them harborough, to leasse them vse of hou­sen and Citie, to open them the chur­ches, to succour them chiefely, if rely­gious exiles neede theyr ayde. Euer truly, haue Noble mens housen lyen open to Noble ghestes. Let eke theyr gates lie open, to the myserable and banished for christes cause, other wyse [Page]succourlesse. That so both they be, and may be rightly called, almes gods on earth. The auncient gentry, is repor­ted, farre to drowne these our later no­bles, in this part of curtesy. Sith now, many mens charity cooleth. The pay­nims, counted it theyr chiefest commē ­dation, to haue theyr entries worne. And wonted to sit at theyr gates, that no ghest mought scape them. Here­fore, is that Cimon magnified in Cicero, by the report, of Theophrast. Who toke suche order, and so commaunded hys farmers, that whatsoeuer inhabitant of Latium came to his manor, shoulde haue al necessaries allowed him. But he was liberal to his benefactors. but once father Abraham and Lot his bro­ther, indifferētly to all men. Of whom the firste, sate in y^e gate, thother in the entrye of hys tabernacle, eyther spie, and prie for some straunger. Whiche once seene, they ryse, runne, meere hym, embrace hym, crouche do [...]one to the grounde, and humblye entreate hym to enter.

For, this is the request, and sute of A­braham in Genesis, to the Angels whome, both hee sawe, and toke to bee straun­gers. I beseche you sir, I may finde so muche fauour with you, that you passe not my house. Tary I pray you, while a lytle water bee fette, to washe your feete. Rest ye vnder this tree, and I wyll fetche you a loafe of breade, and make you mery, & then goe forwardes on gods name. For therefore, turned ye into your seruaunte. Loe Abraham, the honourablest Prince of the Israely­te [...], the father of faith and all faithful, abundant in Cattell, Conqueroure in warres, dreadfull to whole Nations & kinges: prostrateth him selfe on the ground, entreateth thē, professeth him selfe theyr Seruant, to whom hee ge­ueth: Runneth to the herde, his whole house attendeth those straungers and abiectes. Sara bestirs her, shee moulds thre bushels of finest meale▪ & knedeth Cakes, the boye, with all speede kil­leth a fat and fayer steere, butter and milke is set them hym selfe standinge serueth them. O simple and happ [...]e [Page]age: O māgled maners: O straunge Metamorphosis: O newe couersion vp side downe, in and out. Let Abraham humble, paineful, hospital: learne our proud, slouthful, inhospitall Nobles. Who not only not geue, but chase a­way and stubbournely entreat straū ­gers, checking them with threates, scoffes, and tauntes. That Englishe­men are [...]urteous, I denie not: yea they haue bene euer counted the chie­fest honourers of straungers. And tru­lye so they be: delyghted rather wyth forreyne wittes and traffyke, then their owne countreyes. Where not­withstanding they haue both plentye of excellent wittes, and aboundaunce of all necessaryes, and most ciuile in­habitaunts. Yet so delight theym all forren pleasures, that in maner they disdayne, theyr home commodityes.

Whiche affection towardes straun­gers I condemne not. Naye, I rather exhorte theym more to imbrace and loue them. but warning withall they despise not but reuerence and imbrace the good giftes of God, theyr home [Page]commodities. Howe sumptuous are they, in enterteining Princes, or em­bassadours? How excessiue? what gli­steringe Nobles? what pompe? What shew? Whome truly, for the maynte­naunce of theyr dygnitie I commend. But that vnmeasurable magnificēce, muche myslike: whence, what I couet dymynished, that wyshe, I employed, on poore pylgrimes, Christes, and exiles. To prouyde them necessary ly­uing, admitte them into felowshyps, and allowe them yearely stypendes. Whyche well I wotte, the Noblest Prince Edward, of happy memorye, moste lyberally did, bothe in London, and eyther vnyuersitie. whome, some Dukes, Nobles, and byshops imita­ted. Chiefelye, the reuerende Father, and late primate of Englande, of the priuye Councel to Kynge Henry the .viii. and hys sonne Edwarde, Crowned with blissefull Martirdom of Mary hys doughter, Thomas Cranmar Archebyshop of Caunterbury: a worthy successoure of william warram in that See, whome [Page]so lyuelye hee resembled, in sincery­tie and bountie. Emouges the No­bles, not the leaste prayse, earned Hen­rye Graye, Marquesse Dorcet, and Duke of Suffolke, nowe a Noble Citezen of heauen. Who lyberallye relieued, manye learned exyles. The like may wee saye of many other, who renoun­cynge the worlde, and worldely plea­sures, haue exchaunged lyfe wyth death, or rather mortalytie with im­mortalytie. Thus some deade haue I voutched. Nor want there presidentes of the quicke. But them wyll I not praise, but rather erhorte, daylye to contende with them selues, that, sith not a fewe of them were straungers in Germany, and therefore vnderstande their estate by experience, they would more and more, put on that sence of humanytie, and affecte of mercy. To relieue pilgrimes, wearned wyth tra­uayle, and destitute of ayde, banyshed now their Countrey bounds, and suc­cour and cherishe theyr need [...], wyth theyr plentie.

In conclusion, be Nobility bountiful to all men.

But Iustice (yf ought els) chiefe­ly pertayneth to mans societye.Iustice

Wherfore worthely of Aristotle, it is called others vertue. Where proper­ly taketh place that sayenge of Pollux to Commodus the emperour: termynge it the balanced lawe. For in maner of balance, with euen hande paysyng & eaming eche thinge, it sweyeth not from right, nor more then iust is, lea­neth on either parte. And that vertue is both fectest and necessariest for a Noble man. Whose whole life and practises, are chiefly busied in mayn­taynyng commen commodityes.

Where wyth once adourned, easelye hath he gotten the princesse of al ver­tues. Whereby he shal rule both him selfe and others. For neither is forti­tude needefull where Iustice is: and if lawes ruled, armes shoulde hushe, syth none should be iniuried. But in­surious they become through couctise and thirst of coyne. For what worke we not to heape and hourd goodes?

Truly, a filthie faulte in all men, but hardly thinke I any maye be sayned filthier in a noble man. For whom we would haue free, & liberall, whom we wishe of highe minde and vndaunted courage, who shoulde esteeme all worldly toyes as draffe and chippes, howe vnseemely and seruile were it, What blotte to his estimation, he should encurre that mock of Euripides? To be a happy horder and cofferer, an vnwilling steward and disbourser of money: Hieremye accuseth the princes of Israell, as ranening wolues, bloud-sheaders, manquellers, gredy guttes: and Dauld calleth them Lions lieng in theyr dennes, in waite for the simple and rauening the poore, halinge hym into theyr nettes. But beware, least they crye to god and the mournynge of the poore, ascending, and peareyng the eares of the lord of Sabaoth, pro­uoke him agaynst the. And of a moste mercifull lorde and father, make hym thy wrathfull and rigorous iudge.

For the cominalty complayneth new lordes succeded theyr olde auncients. [Page]Excessiue in askinge, rigorous in ex­actinge, readier in takinge, sparer in geuinge, worste almost in all things. For all commend the auncient Nobi­litie, condemne the children, aduaunce their parentes to the heauens. This posterity therefore, briefely warne I, not to oppresse with fines or incoms theyr tenants, or countreimen. Not to peruerte iudgementes, not to enclose that erst was commen, not raise theyr farmes hygher then of olde, or be­yonde reason, not to crushe theyr backes with laboure, not to dyffer to paye. For all these are forbydden by the lawe of god. Esay crieth. Ceasse ye to afflicte, learne to bee beneficiall, searche iudgement. And in hys thyrde chapter. The lord shal come (saith he) to pleade with the elders, and Pryn­ces of hys people. For ye haue crop­ped hys vyne, and the spoyle of the poore is in your house. Why begger ye my people? and grinde (as hit were) the pore mens countenaunce? And ther vice noteth hee in hys fifte chap­ter. Woe to them that ioyne house [Page]to house, and lande to lande, leaninge roome for no Neyghboure. Will ye onelye in dwell the earthe? These be those Giants of the earth, in times paste, before the floude, famous and Noble, valiant and notable, stronge, sounde, and mightie, terryble, and chayned. These bee the successours of Nimrod, stoute and boysterous hun­ters, and rouers on the earth. Whom eche where mencion the sacred scrip­tures. Thus coūcelleth Salomon. Moue not from theyr place, the aunciente bounds, nor enter on the lande of the Orphane. For whereto staine Noble men, them selues with this mucke? wherto, are they of so lowe, & base spi­ryte, as to be chained to these earthly clogges? who ought soare far higher. For what are the ryches, whiche here so much they prise, but burthens, and clogges of Cares? Therefore saide So­crates, oure myndes were no lesse hamperde, and laden with them, then oure bodyes with longe and side garmen­tes.

Ant Democritus featly depaynted mo­ney, which vngotte wringes, is kept with cares, departeth with grieues. Wherto then serueth this insatiable thirst of y^e which wantyng ye wayle, hauyng howe, loosing mourne. This therefore knowe al Nobles, and with like salues, arme theyr brestes against this vnstanched thirst of coyne. Well wite they, they are no lesse bounden by lawes, then euery poorest slaue.

And fyrst learn they, they ought iniu­rie none. Next (whereto they are most bounden) not onelye theym selues be not iniurious, but also represse they like rauenours and extorcioners Worthye honour he is who harmeth none. But who neyther suffereth o­thers, earneth doubled prayse. Re­cor [...] of that deuine Plato in his bookes of lawes. For manye thinke power parted from iniury, bare and contemptuous, and falsely perswade them sel­ues, they are laweles and lordeles.

Imagining the lawes Cobwebbes, That meashe a flea, or flye, whyche crowes or mighty beasts soone breake [Page]Some thinke, a well moneyed man, mayster of all lawes. As erst sayd Ci­cero of Verres. Nor ought so holy or re­uerend, that money may not pearce.

Ther be Iudges that gape for bribes and are corrupted with gyftes. There are lawyers, Noble mens counsay­lours, who sell theyr patronage, hyre out theyr tounge and trauayle.

Gaynst those, let this our Noble man watche and warde. And heare Esaye rightly counsayling. To ayde the op­pressed, to render the orphane ryghte, to plead the widowes cause. For here­in ought they not credite theyr assys­tantes, theyr soltcitours, their lawy­ers: who, sith they purchase their rea­mes and offices, must consequentlye sell them. Which wel sawe and fore­sawe that worthye Alexander Seuerus. Who commaunded Vetranius Thuri­nus, for taking bribes of sutors, chay­ned to a stake, with grene wood sye­red about him, to be smothered. That smoakes he might be payed, who smoakes solde. Sitte therfore the Nobles them selues in counsell: heare causes, [Page]and honoure iudgementes with their presence, as erst those mightiest Monarches, and Emperours of the worlde, Mithridates, Philippe, and Alexander the greate. For, Noble men are prynces lieuetenants, and wardens and mini­sters of the lawes. For, whereto are good lawes decreed, if none bee, by whose trauaile, they enacted maye be kept? Both againe and againe, hit de­lighteth mee to honor the former age, wherein Noble men were lawyers. when, the Roman gentlemen, blushed not, to professe this knowledge. when Antonians, Crasses, Sulpitias, Sceuolas, Cicerons, were no lesse skilful in the lawi­ers aunswers, then the decrees of the .xii. tables. Yea this profession, was peculier to gentlemen. Whiche would hit were renewed, that them selues might order iudgementes, the arte hit selfe haue more aucthoritie, and these pedlers lesse luker. For, a ryghte and Noble Prynce, and gar­den of the lawes, is a beneficiall and earthly god to common weales.

In whom are many sores, whiche hee easelye either with worde, or becke, mought remedy Be this therefore the first part of iustice: him selfe to wrong no man. The nexte in iust cause to de­fende others, and withstande iniurye. Nor onely is it requisite, he be right of deede, but of word also. Which vertue is termed faithfulnes, and trueth. To stand to his promyse, to performe and dyscharge hys credite. For a No­ble man ought accomplyshe, yea what so hee noddeth to. Who hateth not a lyenge Lorde? Deepe in hys minde therfore must be imprint this sayeng of Salomon. Sixe thinges god hateth, and the seuenth vtterly abhorreth.

Proude lookes, a lyeng tounge, blon­dye handes, a minde ymagining mis­chiefe, swift feete to euell, a false wit­nesse, a vaine man, and sower of strife twixt brethren. A golden sentence, and worthy to be grauen in the hear­tes of all noble sutes, euen from theyr tender yeares. But I must measure my measurelesse talke.

The neyghbour vertue to this is equitye. Not to racke al thinges by extreme right, to yelde somewhat, and thinke nothinge more beloued, then mercy or curtesye. Mercy consisteth in pardoning, winkinge at faultes, and forgeuenesse, seeld punishinge, and that vnwillyng, accusinge not often, nor but compeld of necessitye. Curte­sye requireth easie speache, ciuile company, frendly, pleasant, and curteous talke. For wherto shewe Nobles thē selues so seeld? Why are they so state­lye, and hawtye in talke, to theyr bre­thren theyr semblables? Nothynge more hygh or loftye then the sunne. Yet vayleth he his golden rayes downe to the base earth. Communi­cateth his influēce with herbes, plantes, seedes: shineth, lighteth, and hea­teth, as well the vniuste as iuste, the poore as riche, yea the bruite beastes. Agayne, the higher and loftyer he is, the slower and slacker mociō he hath Euen so, ought Noble men, the high­er they are raysed, the humbler and quieter to be: the more to vse lenitye [Page]& curtesy to al men, & bridle their sto­makes, & bury theyr vnbroken rage.

The contraries therfore, statelines, importunitye, crueltye, and anger, much more must they flye. Which, when they light on anye armed with authority, Nobility, and power, more trouble and stirre eche state. For in­flamed with these nourishementes, and oyle (as it were) they haue more force to hurt. Of anger well counsay­led Aristotle, they ought be angrye.

But howe, when, and with whome, they ought. Of other vices, other bla­mes might I heape. But more maye they of this litle conceaue. For euerye philosophers bookes, are laden wyth like preceptes. From whom, the diui­nity and contemplacion of these ver­tues must be borowed: Albe the prac­tise required, of the Nobles them sel­ues. For the praise of vertue, consi­steth in practise, and is accomplished not so much in knowyng, as doing.

But of those vertues, that are re­ferred to others be here an end. It resteth, henceforthe we speake of the residue.

HItherto haue we determi­ned hit, that is guided by vertue, and accompanied with fortune, to be the truest and perfectst Nobi­litye. For, both it behoueth and besee­meth all men, to lyue vertuously: and most requisite is it a Noble man passe in rare, singuler, and perfect vertue. And ioyne to his bryghtnes of byrth, the armes of honoure and vertue.

For, shame it were, who surpasseth herein, shold be barren of better gifts Whō rather it behoued, wyth white steedes (as they saye) manye miles to forerunne the rest. Muche must he paynefully learne, firmely remember stoutely practyse, and wisely speake. Which all ought in him excell, where in the common sorte it suffiseth, al be they meane. For, both he hath all the helpes of practise, whyche others want, and the more God hath credi­ted him, the strayghter and more se­uere [Page]accompte shall he render, of hys wordes and deedes. Wherfore dys­cretely, truly, and maruaylously, sayd one of the fathers of the primitiue Church: that hardlye mought Prynce or priest be saued. Which extendeth to all the burthened, with any harde la­borious charge, linked with the safe­tie, care, and preseruation of manye. For who wonteth to foresee, to be­ware, to watche, and wake for others ought also abye others trespasses. So payneful and perillous charge is hit, to be a Noble man: if by his example, the subiecte bee either offended, or pe­rishe. For hee synneth not sole, but the contagion of hys dysease infecteth o­thers. And with hys fault, he maketh others faultie, and with hys fall and ruine, debruseth thousandes. Nor can alone fall, but his adherents, and such as depende of him, wyll accompanye him. For of much force are they, to the marring or making of cities maners, either deprauinge the Citizins wyth theyr lustes, and vices: or reforminge them, by the presidentes of theyr ver­tue, and continence.

For it appeareth in historyes, that as the cities chiefes, suche euer was the whole city, and whatsoeuer chaunge of fashions the prince began, the same the people folowed. Which is farre truer, then the conceyte of oure Plato. Who thought by the chaunge of mu­sicians songes, the states of cities wer altered. For truly the Nobles life and liuinge chaunged, who seeth not the cities maners chaunge? Wherefore, so muche the more hatefullye vicious princes deserue of the common welth for not onelye theym selues embrace vyce, but spreade the same into the whole state. Nor hurt onelye for they are infected, but also for they infecte. And more harme with theyr example then sinne. For he it lawful this once for me to vse Cicero, wordes, in hys booke of lawes, to purchase my talke more authority. Of necessitye there­fore, ought noble men be good. Both, for them selues and others: that they may trayne manye in theyr vertues, not vices. Of which sorte of Nobles, the lesse plenty there hath bene hither [Page]to, the earnestlier, ought al men, with theyr whole mighte and power ende­uour: that these of our dayes encrease the number, and euen drowne theyr auncestours, so to become more fa­mous, and acceptable to all men. E­uen in hys dayes wryteth Aristotle, in hys polytikes, that a ryghte No­ble man, was a rare sighte. Nobilitie (quod hee) and vertue, are founde in fewe, but ryches in many. For scarse any where a hundred Nobles, or good mē: but infinite swarms of ryche, eche where may you finde. Thus wryteth he. Why so? The false opinion of feli­citie mocketh them, for they wene them selues happy enoughe, for their discent from Nobles. And restinge on this vayne confidence, reache no far­ther. But truly saith Plato, loue bredth of neede. For the needy seeke. Whoe seeke finde. But suche as weene they abound, and thinke they haue raught the chiefest blisse, slay as at y^e gole, nor mind to run further in that race. For who seeketh the Phisician, but first he feeie disease? Christ calleth the labou­ringe, [Page]and laden. Them promiseth he rest and disburdening. For the char­ged with no burthen, neede none to vnlade theim. Therfore (for I returne to my purpose) the fewer Nobles we haue, the more constantly and earnest­ly must they trauayle, to attayne thys christian, geason, and vnwonted per­fection, and excellence. And with all speede, cleare and scoure out the staine that so long hath fretted their Noble names. In whom all men, as I sayd, seeke and misse the perfect duties, and orders of the excellentst. So, shal they bothe accomplishe theyr dutye, and scape iuste blemishe of infamye, and further with theyr example, & aspire to the glory of true Nobilitye.

But fyth at fyrste, we comprysed the whole nature of Nobility, in three braunches: forasmuche as, of duty to­wardes God, and loue and behauiour towardes others, we haue alreadye spoken: the thyrd, and last [...] Act [...] must we now furnishe.

The third and last therfore, is the consideracion and orderynge of hym [Page]selfe.Duties of the No­bles to­wards thē selues. For to him selfe is he muche in­detted, to adourne eyther parte wyth certayne priuate vertues. least vt­warde exceding and surpassing in brauery, at home and inwardes he be naked & beggerly. For what we haue to­fore mencioned, is publicke, & hath re­lacion to others. For holines & religi­on are referred to God. Nor may a mā be stout, but in common peril, and the affaires of his countrey: nor liberall, but to others, nor iuste but in ciuile gouernment. But the better to skyll and learne to practise these, let him at his owne home, as in a free schoole shape & forme him selfe: before thence he be thruste abroade as into an open stage before he determine with others in the churche diuine ordinances reli­giously, and ciuile duties towards all and euery men. Herein must he learne to knowe him selfe, which is hardest: solitary to reuerence him selfe, which is seemeliest, to rule him selfe whyche is mightiest: to cōclude, to cōquer him selfe, which is most victorious. For, who inquireth of others life & maners ignorant of his owne, & is outwardes [Page]eyed, but homewards blind, and wan­teyed: is plainly a foole. who blusheth not within him selfe, is shameles.

Who mastreth others, not hym selfe, a slaue. who risinge others superiour, becometh his owne inferiour, is a co­warde and impotente caytife. Let vs therfore somewhat say, of certaine the chiefe and principal pryuate practises, which him self vnder his owne rooffe ought exercise, that properlye honoure hym in his owne home.Tempe­rance.

The first pryuate vertue, and leaste sightly, but not leaste seemely, to bee coueited and honord of a Noble man: is Temperance. which, Aristotle restray­neth to the pleasures of the paunche, and belye. Cicero stretcheth farther, whom wee at this present gladlier fo­lowe. So notwithstanding, as we ex­tend our arbitrement, and iudgement chiefely to those thinges, whiche pro­perly and most commenly, are apply­able to oure purpose, & the duties of a Noble man. Sith manifolde therfore, is the consideracion and respect of Tem­perance: wee wyl referre it to thre par­tes. [Page]Wherin, all her power is closed. That a Noble man thinke modestlye of him selfe, liue temperatlye, and continently, behaue hym selfe mode­rately, and soberly in all things.

For so her whole nature, though not moste suttellye boulted, yet maye hee plainliest vnderstod. For truly it hap­peth, that as wormes soonest breed in most precious woode, so these thre vy­ces, Pryde, Pleasure, Riot, or excesse: (I wot not how) in maner naturallye cleaue and creepe into Nobles. Pride therfore, shall modestye master. Plea­sure shall continence tame. Excesse shall moderāce and sobrietie banyshe. Be therefore, our noble mans mynde garded with suche modestye, that hee prise not ouermuch him selfe, as fleshe and bloude: lytle accompte his stocke, armes, name, titles, hys parents glo­rie, hys owne fame, honor, welth, and al the rest, that seeme to other noblest, and moste gorgeous: compare wyth none, aduaunce not hym selfe before other, no not his yonger brethren: not boast his liuinges, not ruffianly crake [Page]his scarres, not presume to the highest roomes, nor oughte chalenge other­wise then comelines and honesty will beare. So be his minde formed at home, so his thoughtes disposed, that he accompte him selfe noughte better for the accesse of any forren hap.

But so farre forth, as he proueth him selfe a man, by vertue. Whence (Vir) the name of man is borowed. This vertue the deuines terme humilitie.

Which Dauyd vsed, when he termeth him selfe no man, but a wormelynge and the scoffe and scorne of the peo­ple. and Mary likewise blusheth not to name her selfe the handmayd, and ser naūt of the lord. For most truly saieth Peter that God withstādeth the proude and is gracious to the humble and meeke. It is surely the mother, groūd and scale to al other vertues. Begin Noble men therfore, to knowe theym selues. So shal they not be famous for Vice, but Noble through Vertue.

Learne they perfectlye, whence, and what they be. But this be knowen and learned neither knowe they them [Page]selues, nor iudge sincerelye of the sel­ues. But either the cloude of ignorāce clipseth their iudgemente, or the myst of pride, dimmeth theyr sighte, se as neyther they may for ignoraunce, nor wil for pride, beholde the liuely shape and forme of Nobilitye. Therfore whēce they be, albeit clearely enough perhaps, without these my spectacle [...] they see: yet briefly will I shewe, that they may the easier minde from howe base beginning, they haue climed to this high clieue of Nobilitye.

For they are as the rest, men. That is Earth, Durt, Dust, and Haye, as all fleshe. Recorde of the Prophete.

Td be shorte, to the orderlye knowe­ledge of their miserye, propose they these three partes. Their birth, their life, theyr death. The selfe same birth the like life, euen and equall death.

For, as to our byrthe, we are in farre worse plite then was Adam our aunci­ent progenitour. Of the earth was he created, then blessed. Of the same take we oure begynnynge, but ac­cursed and detestable.

He framed in paradyse, we withoute, wretched, mortall, myserable, beset with millyons of miseryes, treasons, chaunces, foes, bothe ciuile and foren. woulde god, at lafte, amids theyr daintie feastes, and pleasures, the No­bles would recounte this father, this mother, namely the earth. And euer haue these auncestours to fore theyr eyes, that so they moughte no longer vaunt them selues, other poorers su­periours or betters, whome so muche they despise. But euen confesse them selues, theyr germaine brethren. Des­rended of the selfe parentes, equall in basenes, misery, & obscurity of birthe. For so preache the holy scriptures. So thonder they to vs, yea ofte and ear­nestly. But hardly wyl a proud man, and to well perswaded of hym selfe, pufte vp with the Nobility of his aun cestours, acknowledge this earthe, whyche with hys feete hee trampeth, hys mother. But so is hit wryten, so taughte, that herein a ryche and pore man ioyne, that the lorde, is crea­tour of both. what cause of pride, then [Page]haue they aboue the rest? why recount they not ofte, with Philippe the Kynge of the Macedons, that they are borne as other? and are men, and no more. For hee, after many lucklye atchieued en­terprises, in his warres against the A thenians, his enemyes vanquyshed, and put to flighte, him selfe remaynynge glorious cōquerour: feling in him self, after this victoryous successe, some mānishe ticklinge & pricks incident to mans nature, that also hee become statelier then of wont: commaunded one his seruaunte, euery morninge at his vprisinge, to crie to hym. Remem­ber thou art a man. Would oure Nobles in like maner, charge herewith some one of theyr seruaunces, whome to to manye, to other vse they keepe: Who stil shold sing this song in their deaffe. eares & reuiue to their dulled memory, theyr frayle mortalitie, weakenes, mutabilitee, beggery, swathing clou­tes, and firste cradels: of what mor­talles, them selues mortalles, were borne: How suckling babes they were fed with pappe, and nursed with the [Page]selfe foode, and the selfe forte, as other wretched rascalles: and hereby, en­force them to acknowledge them sel­ues men: It would I thinke much a­bate their statelines and pride, but the glory and immortalitye of their name nothing. For, would sometyme their minds & thoughts stoope hereto, wold they diligently ponder, consider, and weigh it: both more modestly & hum­blye would they iudge of them selues. For come we not all alike, into thys lyghte? Weake, feeble, of tenderest fleshe, skinne, and body? Unable to speake, goe, or eate, onely beggynge, wralling, & hanging on our mothers or nurses teates? Are not in like forte, both the riche and poore, the Noble & rascal, bred, nursed, and fostered? Be­ginne we not all, our life, with wral­lyng, and cryes? Wiseliest therfore, ofte wondreth the princely prophete Dauyd, at the mightye hande worke of God. And recounteth his maruailous creaciō in his mothers wombe. Howe wonderously his bodies substāce was compacted in secrete, & him selfe pro­porcioned [Page]in parted limmes, formed daye by day, and registred (as it were) in Gods booke. Howe erst he laye in his mothers wombe, an vnformed shape, and lifelesse fleshely masse.

Which freely be protefteth, and glad­lye professeth he was borne, framed, and fashioned as other meanest men. So, though anoynted kynge, he blu­sheth not his mothers wombe, whēce fyrst he parted, nor his first wrallyng Cradles, or swathing bandes.

What preeminence therfore, herein hath Nobilitye? Syth of men, men, of mortalles, mortall, of wretches, wretched, and feeble they descend?

Worthely sayde Euripides a Poete in deede, but herein true.

So is none priuileged, but sembla­ble, the birth of the noble and base.

To conclude, to leaue theyr natiui­tyes, and base byrth, yf nearelye you viewe their lyfe, and death, you shall [Page]finde them dealte withalll, I saye not worse then other, but trulye no whit more parcially. I passe by theyr infan­cie, whiche where others commenlye spende with theyr mothers, these a­gainst all nature, sucke straunge Nur ses, not theyr mothers brestes. I passe ouer also theyr childehoode, oft to dain tie, nice, and wanton, whyle others applye either free craftes, learnynge or laboure. Narowlye prie into the whole course of theyr life, and com­pare theyr plentie with the others po­nerry, theyr ryot with thothers thrift, theyr daynties with thothers spare­nes, theyr Idelnes with thothers tra­uayle, yet neither haue they more, nor honger ofter, nor eate gredelyer, nor liue dayntier, nor sleepe swetelier, nor fare helthier, but sicken ofter, and so die sooner. Such is theyr beginninge, such their meane race of life, such their death. For are not theyr deaths alike? See we not them dayly die? Yea as I said, ofte preuenting others? and some time more perillouslye? some spente with warre, other with surfet and ef­feminate [Page]pleasure, other sodenly reste by the swordes edge, the princes dys­pleasure, or infinite other meanes and causes? By al which, theyr weake and frayle Noblesse, and brickle mortall state, as well approued. To whyche thought, by this rehersal hereto I hale them, that mindfull of theyr base be­ginninge, consideringe theyr vnassu­red life, awaitinge with others death euer prest: they may ioyne humilytie, and modesty, as the blasingest lamps, to the reft of theyr vertues. wherwith as pleasaunte sawse, theyr whole lyfe maye be sweetened. where withoute, all dignitie stincketh, Nobility is con­temptuous, yea theyr vertues are este med vicer. Iustice liberalitie, magna­nimitie, fortitude, yea religion it selfe, waxe beggerly, hateful and infamous not for theyr yll nature, but for they dwel ill, and harbour in a proude and arrogant person. Pryde is it, to vaunt Princely robes, not princely vertues. Pride is it, to lowte men of lower sort or pore lasers, as is some mens guise. Pryde is it, to terme ciuile subiectes, [Page]and honest citesens, knaues, theeues, villens, as wont the french Nobility. of which word notwithstanding, the Etymologye and reason theym selues knowe not. For villens be all, euen gentlemē, such as though free borne, lasted not frō y^t nacions of spring, but were since receiued amongs them. So termed, of the word (Villa) for thē sel­ues or theyr auncestours, delighted in ferme places, or applied husbandrye, and tillage. As Budee witnesseth. But villens terme they theym in great de­spite, & reproche as vile. Of which sort many scorn [...]ful, bigge, & wyndy wor­des they vse, chiefely against hulband men, and theyr poore neyghboures, whome rather they oughte embrace, cherishe, & greete, as frendes, neygh­boures, and brethren. But this is theyr prides blame. It is also a touche of pride, not to listen their lofty cares to admonishemente, reprooffes, or threates pronounced oute of Goddes worde, and the mouthes of his my­nisters, rghtly displayeng them theyr sinnes, to prouoke repentaunce.

They disdayne to heare their courtise lust, ambicion, stirred. Yea, therfore haue I ofte knowen, good ministers guerdoned with tauntes, scoffes, checkes, & boysteous threates, yea impri­soned some. Pride also it is, to con­temne Culesiasticall discipline, in all connsayles to withstand it, and wyth all theyr myght, to endeuour to hyn­der it. What? are Nobles growen to such insolence, that they gnawe Gods byt to be vnbrydeled? That lawelesse they sinning and faulty, would by no censure, no lawe be chastued? For I am not ignoraunte, what threates, what terrours they thunder, what mistes they stirre, what feares they rayse, if any dare once opē his mouth to excommunicate a Noble man.

But whye playne I herein the pryde and statelines of this order? Sith them selues that excōmunicate, that write them selues seruauntes of ser­uaunts, and successours of humble Peter, yea vicars of humblest Chryst: they they I saye, in thys abuse, seeme [Page]seeme not onely comparable, hut euen farre to excede them? These are agre­ued to be touched by name. If oute of scripture ought bee obiected them, they rage, raue, burne, and curse as blacke as pitche, euen flea and teare men. But of such excommunicatours, meant I not tofore. Other Christian ministers meane I, who to this in­tente proclayme theyr adulteryes, whordomes, dissolutenes, mischieues and sacrileges: For they should repent & not returne as dogges, to theyr for­mer vomite and elder pride. Nothinge more gloryous then an humble noble man, nothinge more intolerable then a proud Lorde, nothinge in a gentle­man more commendable, then mode­stie. Wherfore here in first shine theyr temperāce, to beare not lofty but low­ly minde not seeme in their owne con­ceite wise, shew no signe of arrogāce, in wordes, life, or apparayle, eyther by iesture or countenance. The mate and sygne of modestye, is shamefast­nes, and basheful blushing. The hewe of vertue, wherewith hit is commen­dable, [Page]to see yong gentlemēs cheekes stayned.

The seconde mayme of minde,Cōtinēce that ought be rased, is also a certayne in­temperance to cure whereof, inser­ueth continence. For so translate I worde for word. Aristotles [...]. Hit he reposeth only, and properly, in delightes of sensuall feelinge, and thinketh by abuse, extended to honour money, and other like. The proper prayse whereof, is to abstayne Venere­all sweetes, to brydle fleshly lustes, to contemne and reiect voluptuous plea­sures, not led by them, them to leade, chaine, and driue. For that sorte of pleasure, dasleth the mindes sharpe sighte, dimmeth the wittes lighte, in fecteth wisedome with follye, wea­keneth the strong, peruerteth the god­ly, transformeth the Noble to swyne, to Sheepe, whirleth the whole man nowe here, nowe there besydes hym selfe. She as sole Empresse of the worlde, bewitcheth emperours with her bawdie potion. She onely conque­reth capitaynes, commaundeth Kin­ges, [Page]and triumpheth on Emperours. For infected not Flora Pompey, a prince otherwyse not altogether vicyous? Conquered not Cleopatra Cesar, so va­leant conquerour? Maryed not Anto­nius the selfe same minyon, thoughe a commen harlot? Spoyled not the Campane Queanes Haniball, the Greekes Philyp? Phrine that famous strumpet, bewitched Timothee: Lamia Demetrius: and other Nobles, other strompets led and byledd, as captiues, at theyr wyl and becke. whicke slaunderous stayne of so Noble personages, historyes whist not yet at this daye. Whyche euerye wyse, chast, vnpartiall reader, and such as abhorreth not vertue, de­testeth yea in those, to whome one­lye nature, hath lyghted some sparke of knowledge. But otherwyse farre, wyll all posterytie iudge of Christians when they shall pervse theyr ban­kettes', ryotts, lustes, adulteryes.

Chryste wylled vs, to bee gods holy temple. Why then prophane we oure [Page]selues, with vncleane, & filthye harlo­try? Why feare we not, with horrible mischieues, to stayne the harborough of the holy ghost? The darknes, night and corners, bewraye much. But (O shame) why search I corners, sith the Sonne, mydday, & al mens open sight dyscouer moste clearlye as at noone daies, and the high market Crosse, so abhomynable factes? But herein No­bilytie, vaunt them selues in maner, priuyleged. If so, the more they maye, the lesse list they. For who more maye then meete is, hathe wycked licence. But may any, offend with lecherous life, the immortal & chastest God, and the eies of his purest seruaunts? folow stolne venerye, and facts not in deede onelye, but euen in talke stinkinge? Nicocles in Isocrates, thoughe a Kynge, though a Paynim, teperately passed his vnstayned life. And bosteth hee neuer knewe other, then hys owne wyfe. teaching hys subiectes, by hys presy­dent, to lyue a lyke.

But what in these dayes, is done by those, who fill the highest honoures, and empyres, so god saue me, my talk blusheth to tell. And I forbeare to launce godly eares, with the filthines of the talke, such dedes requyre.

But thappeachers thereof, are the Sunne and Moone, the heauen & earth. Nor lyeth ought couered, to the great offence of the weake, the Iewe [...], and Turkes, seyng suche crimes commen e­monges those, that beare the name of Christ, and professe his ghospell. And w^t such especially, as seeme, & are ac­counted Christianest. Who should be to others, both theyr countreymen, and forreyners, presidents of perfect [...]t continence. This licence ought be re­strayned euen in the highest. Dionisius kynge of Sic [...]le, vnderstandinge hys sonne had forced the wyfe of one his subiecte: in great rage asked him, yf euer he learned that touche of his fa­ther [...]? To whom the prynce replyed. Your father syr, was not a kyng. So princely seemd it to this gentleman to haunt whoredome. But hereto, what [Page]reioyned the father? Nor shalt thou truly, if euer thou double this deede, haue sonne. Threatning him death, if euer he incurred like crime. Yf a wicked tyranne, wonlde not suffer so haynous cryme vnpunished in hys sonne, What? shal we thinke it lawe­full for Noble men, quite, I saye not to rauishe others: but diuorce theyr owne wiues, commendable for good name, beautye, and dowrie? to be dou­ble, yea treble maried at once? To wed theyr brothers wyues? To abuse their true wiues as harlotts, and vse harlottes as wiues? But sith in my fyrst entry, I promised to vse gentle­nes in chiding, chastitie in talke: albe­it the borrour of the fact, require ven­geance, not onely with nippinge wor­des, but seuere rigoure: Yet wyll I staye my selfe, nor chaffe in talke, sith here I meane to geue enstructi­ons, not amplify abuses. But this cā I not dissemble. Whoremongers and adulterers god will iudge. And that otherwhere hereto Paule ioyneth. No adulterer shal enter the kyngdome of [Page] [...]which sounded warre, he much hono­red. Which wel may we extend to all iestes, tryfles, wanton & light toyes. But by these fewe, had I rather the rest were conceyued, then with muche talke to breede lothsomnes, or offence to the reader.

Agaynst excesse and ouer­much magnifi­cence.Nowe remayneth it we speake of the thyrde parte, wherein consisteth the meane of all thinges, and come­lines it selfe, and as it were a certaine honour of life, and temperate refray­ning ryot, and superfluous magnifi­cence. What we haue taughte, is of thinges fastened and grafted in hym selfe. What foloweth, toucheth those that are in deede withoute hym, but yet belong onelye to him, his pryuate house, and household. In conclusion, fyue poyntes oughte here be touched. A noble and honourable mans. Ta­ble, apparayle, buildinges, playes, trayne. Wherein I wil briefelye note the simplicitye of the auncientes, the ryot and excesse of oure Nobles. That by the one may appear, what is com­mendable: by the other what discom­mendable [Page]and nedeth refourmyng.

¶ Of his Table, and prouision,A Noble mans Ta­ble. as lawgeuer I decree no thing. Nor will I prescribe him, any diete of meates and drinkes. Which according to his bealth, his acquaintance with his bo­dy, and his owne wit and wisedome, he ought limite him selfe. For, well I wot, this estate, for the most, breedeth sober, ciusle, and most temperate per­sonages. And many Nobles shall you fynde, small caters, lesse drynkers:

Farre greater gluttons, and quaffers emonges the commen sorte. But in the most misse I domestical discipline and blame their excesse. Wherein, fault maye growe two wayes. Ey­ther in quantitie: or qualitye. Quanti­tie meane I, when in sumpiuousnes, and magnificence they exceed meane. For, it happeth manye times, they feede not so muche theyr bellyes, as eyes. And albeit them selues modest­lye vse it, yet so greate furniture is there, such store of dainties, as would not onely suffise the ghestes, but euen cloye anye Hercules, herdes of wolues, [Page]for our neede, but pleasure. But what so is superfluous is lothsome, and vn­sauerye, and looseth all the sweete, in enioyeng. For neither take they meat to staye their harkinge stomackes, or to appease theyr hongers rage, nor feele they therein any pleasure.

The emperour Pertinax had nine poūd of fleshe scrued in at. 3. seueral courses But nowe, what shewe of dishes, what store of seruices? Nor nowe. 9. but a hundred poundes, and more, are serued to a small nomber, I say not in kinges or emperours courtes: but e­uery lordes house. In times past, as Plinye witnesseth, they kepte in theyr housen no cookes, but hyred theym from the shambles. Nowe. 5.6.7.10. suffise not to bye, furnishe, scald, seeth rosle, bake, stewe, mynse, and sawse, so infinite sortes of dyshes. Nor yet contenteth it some daintye mouthes, but they haue forren and straunge ca­tes. We read, that Romulus was a ve­ry sober and spare prince. And afore, I mencioned, Epaminundas would be so­ber in others dronkennes. For, howe [Page]infamous is it, anye where to fynde a Noble man a bibber? But dronken, or dronkerd most villaynous. Wherfore the quaffing of the dutche Nobilitye, is presently haled through al realmes And for there are found some sturdye cospottes, theyr blame turneth to the infamy of the whole nacion. As some also terme Englishmen, gluttons, not for they rauen fo muche, for they are for the most, as spare feeders as any: But, for they prepare so muche, and with such plentie and variety of mea­tes, and sumptuons furniture, charge not thē selues, but theyr tables, with superfluous dishes. And to speake in­differently, no where els euer sawe I or heard, tables spread with suche ex­cesse, all partes so farsed with lauishe­nes, as some Nobles may worthelye compare, euen with any Lucullus. For that most vnworthy is, the very scrappes, which might suffise many fami­lies, & feede huge heapes of beggers, are lothed not onely of their seruaun­tes, but euen of the boyes, and sculle­rye. And that most villainous is, not [Page]onelye whole beefe and mutton, but euen capons and connyes, left by ser­uauntes, are cast to houndes and spa­nielles. The meane whyle, many La­zares lieng at y^t dores, vnrelieued, yea with a cromme of bread. Which al­beit I presuppose, happeth often the maysters vnwitting, through the neg linence of their seruauntes: yet thus warnet, but timelye they abate some­what of this theyr immoderate ex­cesse they wil abye it most dearely.

Bothe, for they suffer the good giftes of god be spilt, and also, for throughe theyr defaulte, so many needye mem­bers of Chryste peryshe wyth fa­mine, whyche might be relieued with a bare boane. Neyther warne I onelye our Englyshe nacyon, but all others, who more pryse theyr houn­des, then the poore, for whom Chryst dyed. Not onely shall they be cal­led dogges as that Cananite, but al­so in the kyngedome of heauen, the poore be preferred them.

Auncient Nobilitye, I much reue­rence [Page]whose Tables were spredde in deede, not laden wyth diuecs dyshes, but alwayes open to theyr neygh­houres, the needye, to all straungers and commers. Which at this daye, also is continued of some, but onelye in Christemas times, and other so­lemne feasts. Hawebeit of some com­menly, and gladly would I, both spa­rer and seelder. But not onely in va­rietye, and quantitie, but in quality also they trespasse. As in times paste, manie Apitii. Who were to nice with ouerconning and queynt mouthes.

Cicero twiteth Hircius, for he coulde not suppe without a peacocke.

Who was (as him selfe reporteth) his scoler in learninge, but his may­ster in feastynge. For of Heliogabalus what should I saye? Who appoynted pryses for the inuentours of straunge dishes. Who exceded all the Vitellians and Luculles. Who liued with pre­seruatiues of the Fowles tounges, whiche wee call Phenicopters, and the braynes of Geese and Peacockes.

Whose fishepondes had springes of rosewater. O daynty monster, wor­thye to die in a draught, as after hap­ped. But we must imitate, and ex­presse the thrifte of the auncientes, I saye not philosophers, as Taurus, Socra­tes, Plato, Diogenes: But princelye per­sonages, Emperours, & good lawes. Before the thyrd Punike warre, by C. Fannius it was enacted, that none should eate more birdes then one hen. Which yll they obserue, who haue e­uery where factours for theyr bellye, theyr carpenters of Coquerie, and de­uisours of pleasures and daintyes. who feede on sparowes, peacockes, fleshe, fishe, and all so, tes of vyands And bye vp the farthest, rarest, and costlyest, neclecting their home cates, at theyr noses, or of easye pryce. As who lyenge farre of the sea, woulde cate but fyshe: and nearer to it, the dayntyest fleshe. To nice and fine be these cormorants, not vnlike those la­dies, whō they say thinges farre fet, & dere bought best feete. Or women, I haue hearde of, who scorned to bye [Page]egges at ten or twelue the penny, but gladly gyue as muche for one. As thoughe, the quantitye of pryce, com­mended the goodnes of y^e vittayle. In auncient times, rarest was the vse of wine. For many yeares was it for­bidden women in Rome. So that longe afore anye lawe therefore de­creed, one Egnatius Metentinus, for kyl­lyng with a batte, his wife drinkynge wyne from the hogseheade: was quyt and cleared by the iudgemente of Ro­mulus. And theyr Nobles as I sayde, dronke but theyr countrey wyne. But by the Consuls, the forren & straunge wines, were by litle and litle brought in. So as at length, fowre sortes wer chyefelye commen, and receyued, in the time of Iulius Cesar. Of Phalerne, of Chius, of Cyprus, and Lesbos. Lucullus onely once, sawe Greeke wyne in his fathers house. But him selfe retour­ning from Asia, destributed more than a hundred thousand tonnes, to make his largicion magnificent.

So stealyngly creapt in dronkennes. [Page]at length, of such impudence, that M. Antonius, wrote a booke of his owne dronkennes. Whose dronken prayse to drowne, M: Giceros sonne, was wont at once to drynke .ii. gallons. Whyche nowe is no straunge stryfe. Other­wise read we of Cato, who seeld dronk wine. And being in Spayne, vsed no other then his mariners. Of Noble men therfore requyre I moderate vse of meales and drinkes. Nor onely moderate vse, but more spare furniture. That all excesse be abolyshed, mea­sure kepte, and respecte hadde of theyr dignity. Folowe they the ho­nourable exaumple of Antoninus Pius, not nygard but Noble, not filthye but fruitefull, that theyr plentye want re­proofe, theyr sparyng, nygardise.

And theyr Table be stored, not so much, wyth farre set or sought dayn­tyes: as the prouision of theyr owne seruauntes, fawconers, fishers, hun­ters. And thus much of the measure, quantitye, and qualitye. But syth theyr meates are powdred with ma­nye sawses, to prouoke appetyte: pur­chase [Page]they chiefly these 3 past all spice­rye. Honger exercise talke meete for a free and ciuile feast. That honger is the sweetest sawce, Socrates taught. Who wonted with exercise to hunte for it afore meales. Trauayle, run­nynge, sweate, were the Lacedemonians sawces, as withnesseth Cicero. Whom well pleased and liked, that blacke broth, that so much misliked Dionisius Then therefore must they eate, when they hunger, then drinke when they thirst. The myghtye prynce Darius, cloyed tofore with rables of Cookes, Hurtors, Cators, maysters and doc­tors of Kitchenrie, and greasers of the throate: drinkyng in his flyght, mud­dye puddle water, though stynkynge wyth deade coarses, denyed he euer dranke sweeter draughte. For than dranke he thirstie, whyche neuer to­fore. But wyse and godlye talke, and reasoninge of matters pertinente ey­ther to godlye life, or concernynge the cōmon wealth (so within theyr boūds and in due time) sometime also plea­saunte and merye, so not trifelinge or fylthye: profyte not onelye to prouoke [Page]stomacke, but also to feede the mynde. Which wanteth neither rea­son, nor presidents of Princes. For, Adrian themperour, whose modestye, stoode in steede of lawe to his Sub­iectes, exhibited in his diners, Trage­dies, Comedies, Poesyes, and Doulcimers. Nor is the vse of Musike amisse at this daye, so Herodiades wanton daunsyng and bawdye ballets wante. For the custome is auncient, as appeareth by Homere. Fayning one Demodocus syn­ginge the Troyan warre in Vlisses pre­sence. Nor ought time of laughter be denyed pleasaunt wittes, so they passe not theyr boundes, and no talke or banket exclude Chryste, euer present both a ghest and feaster. Doubteles they may vnbend theyr browes, and reuiue their spirites with mery talke: yet wholesome and profitable. As Ci­cero a sage counsaylour, reporteth him selfe a ghest not of muche meate, but much mirth. Macrobius writeth in the feast dayes called Saturnalia, the prin­ces of the Romayne Nobilitye assem­bled, spent most part of the day, wyth [Page]weighty consultaciōs: but the supper­while wasted with table talke. For, I meane not so to plie the Nobles with studye, as that Chrisippus: into whose mouth, incessauntly reasoning of Philosophicall suttiltyes, Melissa poared meat. Nor requyre I all men, to be Plinyes, who studyed, red, and no­ted euen supperwhile, and runninge, as Plinye reporteth of his vncle. But, that wise, christian, and learned talke flowe from Nobles in their feastes.

What ghestes they ought bydde, we haue already shewed, entreatynge of liberality, not parasites, or fooles, not iessers, not bawdy minstrels, not mē made to please the eares or tickle the minde. nor simple soules for laugh­ters sake, (as reporteth Demosthenes of Philippe, and Cicero of Chrisogonus) Nor the nedeles riche, ne yet the poore ra­ther to laughe at, then pitye, as some do. Which is also accompted emongs Heliogabalus worthy feates. Namelye, to byd emonges other his ghestes. 8. bald, 8 purblind, 8. gowtie, 8. deaffe, 8. murrions, 8. slimsbies, 8. fat & for­eaten slouens, to feede with extreme [Page]laughter his wretched lust. Chryste willeth to call the poore, eyther liuing thinly, or hardly toylīg with trauayle, and enforced to lyue on others tren­cher, and supplye theyr wantes other­where. These are Christian suppers, most honourable seastes and worthye Nobles.

¶ But of apparayle, thys must we principallye holde.Of appa­cell. That it is a mat­ter indifferente, nor greatlye ma­teryall what anye weare. For, ney­ther lendeth the garment Nobilitye, nor harmeth or dishonoureth the per­son. Neuertheles, syth we are al natu­rally proner to euell then good, when to oure nature of it selfe corrupte, oc­casion cleaueth as a prycke or prouoke ment: braue garmentes, maye in one not altogether persecte, nor whollye Christes, be instrumentes of pryde.

Instrumentes I terme them, for euē in base apparayle, the mynde maye be no lesse hawtye, then in gorgeous Nor lesse pryde lurketh in the brattes of a Beggar, than the purple Roobes [Page]of a Noble. Yet somewhat herein ought as well Noble men as women obserue. Fyrst that all superflutiye be shonned, and immoderate desyre of brauerye. Whych also (as the rest,) I wyll teache by example of antiqui­quitie. For the lawes of the Censors, and expences, forbadd excesse no lesse herein, then in banketting. The em­perours therfore, partly thinking hit a po [...]nt of a base and abtect stomake, to vaunte gorgeous garmentes, and partlye for others example, dyfferd in apparayle, not much from meaner men. But farre beneth theyr honour and dignitie, apparayled them selues. For, Agesilaus vsed euer this sayenge. It was a Prynces parte, not in wan­tonnes and nicenes, but the orna­mentes of vertues, to exceede the commens. And therefore in the fower chaunges of the yeare, vsed one one­ly coate. In his tentes had no costlyer couche, then any commen souldyor.

And the sharpe winter walked alway coatlesse, couered onelye wyth hys cloake.

That by his example, both aged and kynge, he might induce yonge men to like hardnes of lyfe. Volaterranus men­cioneth that Lewes the. 11. of Fraunce, Alphonsus of Sicyle, and Mathye kinges of Hungarye: for the basenes of theyr apparayle, were hardely discerned frō the commen sorte. Such are, and haue bene, many in Englande. Who ware the selfe liuery they gaue. Nor differd from their men, so muche in vt warde as inward ornaments. But now, but on all partes they glyster, with longe and massie chaine, with flauntynge plume, with costlye and rare araye: scarse thinke they them selues accompted gentlemen. And as whylome Heliogabalus neuer doubled the weare of one garmente: so these exceede in chaunge, and hit most sumptuous. So as almost day by day, they weare seuerall, and those sutable. Shewing thē selues one day crimsen, other whyte, the next black from the crowne to the sole. Iust cause is there or feare, leaste coueting to seeme to trim in a matter of nought, at last they become to beg­gerlye [Page]and bare. Scarse clothed with one course garmente. But besette with yeares and brattes.

But as to women, ther is a manyfest decree in the scriptures, enacted by Peter and Paule Apostels, that they ex­ceede not in sumptuousnes, that with modest habite, shamefastnes, and hus­wifery, they attyre them selues. Not with spanges, golde, pearles, or gor­geous ara ye. But as beseemeth wo­men professing godlines, in good dee­des. Hierome also mencioneth, an ho­nourable lady, at the commanndemet of her husband Hymet [...]us, vncle by the father, to Eustachius the virgin: chaun­ged her habite, and attyre And tressed vp her scattered heare, after the worldly guise. For truly christians & christē women, beseemeth a cleane and comely habite, not vnworthy Chryst theyr head. But whereto tendeth effemi­nate and nice araye, but to bewray an vnmanlye minde? Wherefore Socrates goynge euer for the most vnshod: sayd these players weedes were feete for Tragedie and Comedie actors, but no­thing [Page]auaylable to honest lyfe. Next, must they obserue, that to the vtward glistering, the comelines of mind, and inward beautie, and brauerye of ma­ners be aunswerable▪ least, when the attyre beseemeth, the fylthe of mynde shame. Therfore, when they do on theyr costly robes, with that selfe la­boure remembre they, they are the tokens and signes of vertue. That likewise ought the inward ornamen­tes shyne, and (as it were) the gliste­ring of vertue appeare. Not yll war­ned Diogenes one curiouslye sleekynge his heare with oyntmente, that the neate order of his head, caused not the disorder of his life. Beware also they must, leaste shininge vtwardes, per­fuming the ayre w^t sweetest odoures, and altogether dayntye and neate: in­wardes they be found vncleane and stinkyng. Nor thinke they theym sel­ues happyer, for theyr riche & costly­robes: but acknowledge their coates the couers of many cares. As the king Antigonus hearyng an olde Vecke pro­nounce [Page]him happye: discretelye and wisely replyed. Wist thou, o woman, how many euels these roabes shroud, scarse wouldest thou stoope to take them from the myre. For, not onelye are good Nobles more carefull and combred then others: but also, more o­pen and proane to peril. Whych con­sideracion bringeth modesty, and selfe contempt. Hereto also calleth them, the basenes of the thinges, that swell them. For gold, siluer, veluet, nought els renoumeth, then mans fonde esti­macion. The first, being onely frutes of the earthe, the basest elemente: the last, the seede of a simple worme, of the people Seres, whiche two monkes brought from Serindia, a citye of Indye, to Iustmian at Constantinople, shipped thence into Italye, and other partes of Europe. For, of her seede couered with dunge, sylke wormes bred, fed wyth mulberye leaues, spinne silke. And therefore, the emperours esteemed ndt so hyghely Silkes, & Veluets, whiche Aurelianus had neuer in his wardrobe. [Page]Sayeng, he would neuer paise thread with golde. For then was an ounce of silke, solde for like weyght of golde. Alexander Seucrus also, seeld ware sylke, veluet neuer. So nothinge was anti­quitie proud of this wormes flyece.

But now, what more esteemed? Yet what commenner. For when once in Italye, store of mulberyes planted, bred plenty of thē: euerye varlet ware it. So as nowe, it is turned to saddels and horse trappers. The Milesian wer in times paste noted, for abroad, they would be princely, at home beggerly. Which well may we at this daye ap­plye, to some wrongfully termed No­bles. Then whom abroade none bra­uer, none trimmer: at home, none ba­ser none filthier. Wherfore, either the matter whereof it is wroughte, or the commennes and stalenes, ought breed contempt therof in a noble courage. And cause, that not so much with for­ren as home cloth, he clothe him selfe. Or, yf needes he woulde so be appa­rayled, thynke at least, so lyght a toye should not so lightly rayse his stomake [Page]But, bothe the deare price of the sub­staunce, and fondenes of fashyons, is much reprehensible. For it is chan­ged and altered daylye. And what Ra­phaell Volaterranus complayneth of his Italye, that may we muche trulyer, of our England. Whych not content with her owne, or the presente guise, lyueth as straunge. Counterfaytinge, thys day one, tomorowe another, the next daye other, and so continually strange shape and forme. As eyther newe fa­shion is borrowed of forren realmes, or inuēted in the wily tailours shoppe But, what more monstrous then one­ly on the makyng of a daunsinge dob­let, to bestowe almost. 90. crownes.

But what nowe I meane to tel (whi­che I speake but on report) is almoste incredible, and most monstrous.

That. 3. payre of hoose for one man, cost 800. crownes. And what summes of money, euen onely feathers waste, London merchauntes knowe, and I haue heard. But sith prefentiye I re­member not the certaintie, I list not fayne, Least happly I mysse the truth [Page]and lye. Shortly, be this the summe, that none waxe proud of apparayle. But, repose him selfe in his myndes giftes. That peacocke like, they prise not more then right them selues, with their painted plumes. Sith nor the horse for his Veluet trappers, nor the byrd for her golden cage, wonteth to conceyue any stately pride. But ra­ther the first in swift race, the other in swift winge. So contemne a Noble man those vtward, and more & more coueyt these inward ornamentes. Be the ende of apparayle, to shrowde the bodye, to chase colde, hauing respecte of healthe, strengthe, honestye [...], and comelynes.

Of a No­ble mans b [...]se.¶ Hit foloweth nowe, we speake of Noble mens buildinges. For, who weene any parte of happye life, consi­steth in this worlds bricklenes: seeme not to theym selues happye enoughe, though finely clad, daintely fedde, but also they dwell princely. Then which happe, is nought more miserable.

Which Salomon the kinglye preacher, reckeneth amonge the commenlye ac­compted [Page]goodes, in his searche of the soueraigne good. I haue compassed (ꝙ he) great driftes. Built housē, planted vines, leueld gardens and Paradises, and in them set all sortes of fruytfull trees. Plentiful pondes haue I made to water shadye groues. Wherein he describeth al mennes driftes. Yea, of our dayes. But some what after folo­weth. I turned to all the workes my handes had finished, and the trauaile I tooke, and loe al vanitie and trouble of minde, and nothing lastinge vnder the sonne. A golden sayeng of the wy­sest preacher. Which, would Nobles graue and carue on their postes, pil­lers, walles, house, and entryes, ouer theyr dores, and priuie chambers: no poesye should they fynde more passing or pithy. For vanitye of all vanityes sayeth the preacher, and all trulye vanitye. If then there be so greate vanitie, and vainenes rest in al thyn­ges: what dignitie, what Nobilitye may be purchased by buyldynge? Yet thys vanitye worke we not (say they) on vaine consideracion but iust cause. Both [Page]hospitality growe, iustice more indif­ferentlye be ministred, Cityes more flouryshe, Citesens be linkd in nearer amitie, and the neyghboure poore of­ter relyeued. Which all, by thys theyr solitarye secession, are execu­ted seelder, colder,, negligenter, and throughe theyr farther distance, lesse commodiouslye. Why rather imitate they not the aunciente Romayne No­bles? who reserued theyr manoures & farmes, rather to sport and refreshe them selues, then to inhabyte. as Pom­peye, Pomponius Atticus, Crassus, Ciccro, and others. Whose succour, presence, ward, neither y^t city wanted, nor their patronage, councell, or ayde [...] the cite­sens. For in those daies rather chose they to decke the publike buildynges, then priuate, the commen citie then their owne homes. As Aristides, Peri­cles, at Athenes, Curius, Fabricius, at Roome. In whose housen, onelye them selues, were beautiful and golden.

Noble was that vaunte of Augustus, and worthye a Monarche.

Left to al Magistrates and Nobles, [Page]to imitate. Brycke huylt tooke I Roome, I leaue it Marble. Euer, more ought he theyr care of publyke safetye, and dignitye, then priuate honour. But, the renoume and glorye alleaged for second cause, is alike vaine & vayneft. Whiche yet moued and tickeled ma­ny, euen in Chrisostoms dayes. For, do we good to the poore (saye they) who seeth it? Yf any, not many, yf manye, but for a time. And time passeth, and ther withal, the memory of themploy­ed benefite. Better therfore, to rayse buildinges, which men not now one­ly, but many ages after, may behold. O foole, what profiteth thee this memory, tormented where thou art, and where thou are not commended? And this commendacion of the quicke howe reacheth it to the dead? Againe, time wil end this praise, and aged ye­res shal blot & freat out thy name and house, with thy proud praise & memo­ry. For, if the golden Capitoll nowe mustye wayleth, yf the noblest frames lye drenched in darckenes, if Lucullus most magnificēt manors are sōke into [Page]obliuion, chrough the malice of al frea ting time, and nowe lye rased and neglected: why vainely flatterest thou thy buyldinges, with any eternity or lasting length? Where are now those famous temples of Hierusalem and Del­phos? Where the church of Minerua?

Where the Image and huge statue of the Ephesians great Diana? Where the Pyramydes of Memphis? Where the vawtes? where the triumphante arches? Where so huge platformes? Where the owners, contriuers, and carpenters, of so princely palayces?

Thy house thoughe glisteringe with golde, siluer, and precious stoanes, is but a swalowes neaste, of durte and strawes. In winter shall it fall, and as a spiderweb, be pearced with eue­ry blast, and perishe. So is this cause like vayne. Nor ought sounder is the thyrd: for they will leaue it their chyl­dren. Whom thus aunswereth Dauyd They hoarde treasure, knowynge not for whom. For if thou quicke forgot theym ofte, after thy death they maye be reft thy sonne. For eyther tyrants [Page]seeke to entrappe thee, or false accu­sers with forged crime, as poysoned darte, in one momente, with one lye, one wyle, wyll bereue thee, that thou with so great charge, so long time hast raysed. So shal thy children be as cou­duyte pipes, which receyuing water, and seruing others, drinke none. Or yf others preuent them not, them sel­ues as gulfes and qwaues, consume right oft great patrimony. For ofte, a thryftie father succeedeth a prodigal soonne. Who selleth all, not leauyng so much as tyle or stone. As Crassus bordeth on Brutus. Or with gluttony, & dising, scatter they infinite substāce, gathered with great sweates. And strayne whole maners and lordships, through a deyntye throate. Suche one mencioneth Valerius Maximus, one Crassus, surnamed bankrupte & ryche. Who though beggerlye, and vnable to satisfye his creditours, and a needy wretche, was still saluted riche. So these gluttons, as if naked they ga­thered nuttes, as iesteth Cicero, pocket all in theyr bellyes. Wherefore, sith [Page]bothe vaine is their hope of secu­ritye, and searche of glorie, and super­fluous theyr heyres care: No suffici­ente causes are there, whye these earthlye, frayle, temporall harbo­rowes of our body, wauing with eue­rye biast, open to al enemies roades, ryfe to al perill, should be decked with such cost, statelines, and magnificēce. These faultes therfore auoyded, be this moderance vsed. Fyrst, hauing of his parentes, a house able to shroude him from showers, and kepe hospita­litye: rashely enlarge it not, (as many that rase, rayse, buylde, alter frome square to round, from roūd to square) but vse it thankefullye. For the house honoureth not the owner, but the owner the house. Nor deeme he him selfe his parents better, but worthye a fayrer house. Euer beare he thys of Horace in his brest.

But if neede and constraynt re­quyre newe buyldynge, pryncipallye prouidehe, the groundeworkes be iustlye layde, not with others iniurye or nusaunce. Not in others soyle, but his owne. Not in anye commen but his seuerall. That he buylde not of the sacke, and spoyle of the poore, but his owne goodes. God would not bloudye Dauyd should buyld his tem­ple. Haue the whole frame and worke this respect. To tende to vse, not shewe. Be it large, but to entertayne straūgers. For, therin is not largenes discommended. As wytnesseth Ciccre. So be his doare and entrye contry­ued, as they open to all good, poore, and Pilgrimes: close to al vagabonds needelesse and vicious.

¶ As in fare, apparayle, buyldin­ges, they must obserue dignitye,Of No­ble mens sportes. so in theyr playes and sportes, ought they keepe the golden meane.

Thereof are two fortes. That more commendable whyche is stouter and [Page]manlier. And hath in it somwhat stately and warlike. The Greekes vsed fyue sortes, whirling, leaping, casting the darte, wrestling, running. Who conquered in al, was guerdoned with a fiue double game. Who in fowre was termed a quartane. In Virgyle, Eneas is both a game maker and lawe­geuer. And ordayned playes and gaue pryses. The other sorte, many doubte whether christians, made for earnest, not sporte: or Nobles that should cou­ple maiestye with their leasure, maye vse. As daunsing, fayninge to instru­mentes, playe at dise, chesse, or tennes Wherein if othes, excesse, gayne, and couetyse of lucre be left: if honest plea sure, not filthye gayne be sought: I thinke, they maye in time and place be vsed. Sith to the cleane, nought is vncleane. And not the thing so muche as the vsers entent is faultye. Salomon sayeth. A time to sighe, a time to sing. Dauyd with the harpe swaged Sawles fury. And Achilles emongs the Greekes maistred his owne passion. Yea Hercu­les with yong children, Agesilaus with his [Page]sonne, Socrates with Alcibiades, Architas with his seruaunts, not onely played but trifeled. Men yet no fooles, but sa­gest, princelyest, and godliest philoso­phers, kinges, and dukes, past al com parison. Sceuola also, plaied at tennesse Swimming and shooting, haue some shewe of warfare, and are holesome for the bodye, yeldinge it by exer­cise, nimble to obey the minde. The citisens of Cuma, trayned theyr chyldre in fightinge, swimminge, and wrest­lyng. But herein, as the reste, this is worthy not onelye blame, but sharpe correctiō. That Nobles vse dyse & car­des, oftener, & to other ende, than they ought. Nor, once begonne, ende or kepe meane. Yea, some so profyte in madnes, that theyr whole enheritāce, they set at one vnhappy throwe. En­dinge at laste their sporte, in earnest, brall, bludsheds and slaughter. So as of the disinge Comedie cometh Tragicall ende. Namelye othes, curses, blasphe­mies, banninges, miserye, calamitye, beggerye, Tyburne. In daunsing al­so fiye they lasciuious and wanten [Page]gesture. Obserue not so muche mea­sure, as the health and exercise of bo­dye. To conclude, neuer slippe, that not so comicall as sage sawe (To much of nothynge) from theyr myndes.

That play be a releasing of the minde to renew our strength, to strengthen our health.

Of a No­ble mans trayne.Of theyr trayne, in summe obserue Nobilitie three thinges. Whom they ought reiect, whom retayne, howe to entreate them. Reiect they ought ge­nerallye, all superfluous seruauntes. Who nor already skill, nor trauayle to attayne any good arte. For if we haue condemned sluggishe▪ Nobles, much lesse allowe we theyr seruaunts ydle. Yet howe manye handlesse men, hath the present Nobility? Howe vn­fruitefull trayne? what flockes? howe much ydle seruyce? but chiefely chase they flatterers who houer vnder their rooffes, as swalowes and mise, for theyr owne gayne, not theyr loue.

Who with their tales transforme and coloure all thinges. Crouche at [Page]euerye becke, Maske vice for vertue. As the Parasites, & cuppeflyes of Alex­ander, Dionisius, Philyppe. The Table mates, Apes, yea Lyse, and Flees of ryche and Noble men. As wonted Platos frends to coūterfayt his crompe shoulders, and Aristotles his stutte­rynge. Haue accusers and taletellers no entrye. Who droupe tales in No­ble mens eares, and accuse and slaun­der theyr felowes. To suche be theyr eares and doares locked. For they breede debate sayeth Salomon. Nor, must wise heades keepe naturalles, bawdes of pleasure, or iesters. Nor, lurke there couetous Gehises, brybeta­kers as that Elizeus seruaunte. For, these are eyther starke with idlenes, and loyterers: or mischeuous. of whō neyther forte oughte theyr gates ad­mitte. For liuinge ydell, attendynge onely at dyners or suppers, or folow­yng theyr lordes to the court, or other­wise, flattering them: the whole daye nought doyng, cōsuming their wages in dise & gamning (to name no worse) [Page]they become contriuers of manie mis­chieues: and applye their mindes to theft, to whicked deuises horrible to be named. Which sinke must be pompd. Els shall their lorde abye to the lorde their blame. These rascalles, and rakehels, thus ridden, shortlye learne they whom to retayne. Onely neces­sary seruaunts, as hyndes to entende theyr tillage, or other officers of house holde. As secretaries, Butlers, Purse­uaunts, and other inferiour. Then, good counsailours, frendes and trusty seruauntes. For the euell stayne as pytche. A deuine is a singuler orna­ment in a Noble mannes house. Not onely in his sickenes to comforte hym correct him strayenge, councel him in all his affayres: but also to be to hym both a spurre, iudge and preacher.

A counsaylour he can not misse, to re­solue all his neyghboures, that they be not forced to sue the lawe, wrapped with so infinite crickes and moote poyntes. But forthwith, this our christian and learned Sceuola frely enstruct them in al controuersie, and discharge [Page]of all care. Alexand er Seuerus had assi­stants, in penninge his letters, hys li­belles, in aydinge his memorye, tea­chers sixe. or. 7. lawyers, what more what lesse twēty. Nor enacted he any law, which was not first by thē boulted to y^e brēne. Alway is a learned mā an ornament in a Noble mans house and continueth his whole familye in theyr dutye. Whiche euer kepte the auncient and reuerend Nobilitye.

Scipio, when sente in embassie, he had in his trayne but fyue: One was his frende, familier, and teacher, Panetius. Touchinge the third poynt, he muste not entreate them rigorouslye. Tiran nous was the Romaines power of lyfe and death, and therfore ryghtly reft.

Otherwyse teacheth Paule in our law. To deale gently, mildely, familierlye, with thē, least we haue as many foes as seruaunts. To admit them to talke and councell. For they are not all sla­ues of nature. The good sayeth Augu­stine, all be he bonde is free. The yll, though a kynge, bonde. They must vpon accompt of their trauayle, ren­der [Page]theyr dutie. Iacob had seruauntes, and handmaydes, but such as toyled, kepte Asses and Camelles: none ydle loyterers. Nor be theyr lorde so lorde­ly, as iuste. Nor yet so iuste as gentle Be Antoninus Pius theyr paterne.

Who is reported, neuer to haue done oughte, whereof he attempted not in wrytynge to render probable cause So suftiseth it not to commaund, but but is sometymes auaylable, not to conceale thy seruaunts, the cause of thy commaundemente.

Socrates in Phedris, coūsayleth to learn of anye thynge. Yea, were it a spea­kynge Oke. For, we ought not at­tend who speaketh, but what is spo­ken. Be they therefore frendelye to theyr seruaunts▪ and preferre the worthye. Not as Antes gaawe the grayne on that parte it fyrst spryngeth, least it become vnfeete for theyr vse: So they keepe vnder theyr seruauntes, as they would kepe them euer: but ra­ther be meanes to rayse them higher. But to caste oute of seruyce, theyr [Page]olde and aged men, nowe dottardes, and foreworne, howe cruell is it?

Kynder farre Alexander to his steede Bucephalus. Whom aged, he caused other horses to beare to the fyelde.

Some there are, who not onelye fro­wardelye and importunatelye brall, with theyr seruauntes: but also, threate, and thunder (not speake) no lesse than mylstoanes, lyghtenynge, hayle. Of whom sayeth Salomon.

In a Fooles mouthe is the staffe of Pryde. But hereof sufficiente, so fyrste I adde that of S necke.

As well to pardon all, as none, is exueltye. Wherefore, herein what to doe, maye eche man, accordyng to his discretion and moderance, easely dis­cerne. So he come angerlesse to puni­shynge. And afore iudgement, guy­ete and sober, well weyghe the quali­tye of the cryme.

Athenodorus preseruatiue, geuen Au­gustus, agaynste sodayne rage, is bole­some for all men.

Neyther to do or speake ought, til or­derlye he haue recited the. 24. Greeke letters. Nor propose the greatest prin­ces the greatest ragers for paternes, Nor do on Achilles wrath, or Alexanders fyerye stomake. But folowe of all na­cions the pacientst. Of the Hebrēwes Dauyd, the Lacedemomās Agesilaus, the A­thenians Socrates the Romaines Pomponius At ticuS. Who thought all wrathfull anger ought be rooted, and repressed, chiefely toward them we loue. And thus of temperance and her branches be it hitherto spoken.

¶ Prudence, is the gouernesse and guyde of the rest.Prudence Yet, for it lyeth in the secrete minde, we referd it hyther. Whiche yet is there so enclosed, as it ought issue into iudgement seates, the Princes court, common congregaciōs & assemblies, and euen into the chur­ches. Which, howe necessary it is for a noble man, Salomon sheweth in the fourth of the prouerbes. I (ꝙ he) heing my fathers dearlynge, and the onelye and tenderly beloued of my mother, thus taught he me. Purchase wyse­dome [Page]purchase vnderstanding.

Swerue not from it, it will preserue the. Loue it, it wil saue the. Aduaunce it, it wil aduaunce the. Embrace it, it wil also honour the. It wil geue thy heade encrease of grace, and crowne the with a crowne of comelines. To he short, that whole booke is an exhor­tacion to wisedome. Salomon listened this his parentes counsell, and proued the passingst and worthiest in all sor­tes of learning, of any mortall. Con­trarye was Mydas wyshe.Maisters. For that foole wish [...] golde. This sage, wise­dome. O howe vnseemelye is hit he shoulde pester the highest honoures, who most vnworthy that seate, dareth not open his mouth in councell.

Shame and reproche was it to the vn skilfull Megabirsus to bable, in Apelles presence, of lines and coloures. For the youge boyes standinge by poun­ding coloures, whom afore they honored, and gased at for his glisteringe roabes, and golde: his vnlearned igno raunce, talke, and iudgemente, as a blynde man of coloures, scorned and scoffed [Page]Trulye, as in charge and office, I re­quyre it not, so in skyl and knowledge faynest would I (were it possible haue him passe any. The citesens of Berrhea the noblest of the Thessalonians, are worthely praysed, for that returning from Paules preaching, they were able to ex­amine, were it true he spake. For No­ble men, ought not onely be hearers, but iudges of ministers. Nor shoulde suche darkenes shadowe mennes life, nor so longe nighte clipse the chur­che, yf they corrected and reprooued erring pryestes, not leaned to theyr erroures. Nor is oughte at this daye more lamentable, then the ignorance of Magistrates and Nobles. Heade cause of all euels, both in the state and religion. And whye will they rule, if they can not enforme the ruled▪ For they rule, as wyser, not as myghtyer. Otherwise is it cart before the horse. Yf the foote rule and preiudice the head, the foole his wiser, the ignoraūt the learned. And euen as the blynde, by mayne force, should hale the seeing with him selfe to the ditche. But, of [Page]theyr barbarous custome, and blynde opinion, who scorning the rude reign of Poliphemus, that Gyaunte huge, but witlesse, and al his Cyclops: iudgynge also the Turkes empyre, for contempte and ignoraunce of artes, most filthie: yet roare, they are borne to armes not learninge. Nor scarse accompte them selues good warriours, yf learned.

Where neuertheles, the myghtyest conquerours, euer coupled this glory of wit and learninge, with warrlyke knoweledge: nor in maner thoughte they could mayntayne warfare, had they not learned the noble feates and polecies of princes, the successe of warres, the manye broyles and chaunces yea y^t whole arte of warre, of bookes and teachers. For that great Alexander learning made greatest. Nor liue his deedes so greene, as the commendaci­on of his learning. Nor so happy he, for he was Philippes sonne, as for though a kynge, he would be Aristotles scholer. Who wondreth at Iulius Ce­sars empyre, warres, the yoaked Rhene and Oceane? Naye, who detesteth not, [Page]that intollerable stroake and tiranny? but his commentaryes, are loued, ly­ked, and studyed of all men. Numerian bothe an Emperoure and Oratour, chose rather to haue hys Image in the L [...]rary grauen wyth this tytle. To Nu­merian the Oratour then Emperour. Yet blushe our Nobles of learning, which he preferd before Empyre. Claudius though otherwyse warlyke, reckned it not so gloryous to warre as wryte. What neede I vouche, Augustus what Titus, what M. Antonius, what Iustini­an? who Valyant in wars, famous for Conquestes, infinyte nombers of at­chieued Empryses, honor, Nobilytie, and estimation of all men: would yet both by studyes and wryting, bequeth and spreade the glorye of theyr name, to posterytie. For no men, muche lesse Nobles, be they, that know not lear­nynge. and if Cleanthes bee of anye cre­dite, only in shape differ from beastes. what meaneth then Nobylytye, to thinke it reprochefull to bee termed students? Weene they it more com­mendable, to bee pamperers of theyr [Page]coarses then louers of learnynge, and honor? or monye mongers then stu­dents of wysedome? Or to plaunche theyr fleashe, pursue honors, shirte for Coyne, worthier then to bee rauyshed with the loue of wysedome, and zeale of knowledge? For of to many such plaineth the philosopher Zeno. Alexāder whome late I named, so lytle feared, to professe Phylosophy, that playnely, hee protested, were hee not Alexander, he would bee Diogenes. yet what baser and vyler then that curre? Suche was that kynges courage, suche his thirst of wysedome and learnynge, that le­uer had hee bee learned, then a kinge, a Phylosopher, then a Prynce. Who naming AleXander, nameth more then a kynge. And emplyeth bothe a Mo­narche, and a Phylosopher, yea [...]ioge­nes to. Whose that sayinge is prince­lye, in hys Epistle to Ariftotle. Rather had I excell in learninge, then power and plentye. Ceasse Nobles there­fore, to hate learnynge. Ceasse they to vexe, despise, and persecute the lear­ned, seynge suche pyllers and stayes of [Page]learninge, and so Noble wightes ex­celled in knowledge. But albeit so cleare a matter, neede not many proo­ues: yet for maugre their heades, I would hale theym to my purpose, and what I councell, compasse, and con­fyrme: I will vouche oute of Diogenes Lacrtius seuenth Booke, the worthye example of Antigonus, successour wyth others, of the Noble Alexander. Wher­by shall easelye appeare, howe muche that high prince reuerenced learnyng. In what estimacion he had the lear­ned, and how couetous him selfe was of knowledge. Antigonus Kinge, sendeth Zeno philosopher greeting. I truly knowe in riches and worldly pompe, mistate farre exceedeth yours. But in know­ledge, liberall studies, and perfect blis­fulnes, acknowledge my selfe your in­feriour farre. And therfore, meant to entreate you, to come ouer to me.

Perswading my selfe, you woulde not neglecte my requeste. Prouide you therefore, in anye wise we wante not your company. Assuringe your selfe that not to vs onely, but all the Mace­dons, [Page]you shall be a most welcome tea­cher, and enstructour. For who fra­meth and seasoneth with vertue, the kynge: the same is it moste euidente, enformeth all his subiectes. For like prince, like people. And, who enfla­med with the loue and zeale of wise­dome, declineth that vicious and vul­gare pleasure, which wātonneth yong mindes: he not onelye by the instyncte of nature, but euen the lore of vertue, mayntayneth Nobility. Which libe­rall and noble nature, yf moderate ex­ercise accompanye, and a wise teacher want not: lightly attayneth the high­est type of vertue. Loe both the kings thirst, and the singuler profite of lear­ninge, whiche by his effectuous wry­ting, euery man not altogether senle­les, may conceyue. To whome it ap­peareth by Zenos aunswere, one Perseus and Pbilonidas a Theban, were sent.

O princely stomake, in deede humble Who, both entreateth and pursueth w^t reason his entreatie. Where our Nobles, not once commaunde, where both they may, and otherwise wonte [Page]and will. Sith hitherto therefore, it hath by some presidents and prooffes bin shewed, Nobilytieloughte studye: consequently wyll I dysclose, in what sorte. not mindynge amplye to dylate this Theame, or prosequete the perfect Methode: But shortlye and briefelye, to touche, in what studyes they oughte be conuersant, what chiefely to reade. For I am not ignorant, manye study. Who notwythstandynge, in the meane, waye, maner and choyse of artes and authours, fowlye erre. For firste reade they humane thinges, not deuine, loue toyes not fruteful lessons Venus games not weyghtie studyes, tendyng to encrease of godlynes, dig­nytie, or true and sounde commodity. As Ouide of the arte of loue. Boccace, & others, nor sonnde nor pure, writers, in whom they study straunge toungs, to the decaye of godlynes. Whyche myghte yet better bee borne, woulde they by whyles, meddle herewith holy Scripture, as a contrarye and triacle, to expell from maners, that pestylent and pernycious poison.

Therefore, what I thinke they ought chiefely learne, what entrie, groweth, and encrease, eche Noble man bothe maye, and oughte make herein: I wil now wythout dyssemblynge tell. Not so muche pestrynge my talke wyth myne owne Councel, opinyon, or de­uyce: as she wynge (if I maye so terme it) the auncient pryncelye waye. Tra­cynge the pathes whyche auncyent gentry led, and wherein it waded. All be it, euen those elder Sages, and pryn­ces teachers, well taught in theyr lea­fure, and shadow of theyr rooffes, of Noble mens studyes. For Socrates, no lesse briefely then wifelye willed firste and forthwith, to learne the best. Di­ogenes also, charged with the chyldren of one Xeniates a Corinthian, proued him selfe no simple workeman in framing Nobilytie. Seasonynge thē first with lyterall arts. Which as a foundacyon layed, then brake hee them to ryde the greate horse, to stinge, to cast the dart, and shoote.

Thirdly, out of poetes, and other wri­ters, gathered & selected such sentices, [Page]as be thoughte feetest for theym, to kenne by roat. Fourthly abridged the summe of all they learned. That at one glimse they might see much, whi­che being litle might surer abide.

Fystely, enioyned them obedience to theyr parentes. Charginge them dili­gently to serue them, liuing them sel­ues with thinne fare, and cleare wa­ter. Sixtlye, forbad theym to bushe or curle their heare, but poll it. Seuenth­lye commended theym the practise of huntinge. These be Diogenes lessons. These the misteries of the Cinicall schoole. Whiche mought perhappes, not vnfeetly be applyed to our nobles But, for it were shame to learne of that Dogge (though Demosthenes dyd) I wil open the matter more euidently and amplye. And not be aggrieued what I haue red and knowe, concer­ning y^e studies, those auncient nobles, and kinges moste applyed: to emparte with you. Immediatlye therfore after they are weaned from their mothers kindly milke, & some ripenes of witte be ginneth to cleaue to theyr knitting [Page]strength: they maye with good lucke entre this schoole. Yea, it behooueth they be entred, vnder some worthye teacher. Wherein Aulus Gellius repor­teth Philips kynge of the Macedons dili­gence. Whose letters herein to Aristo­tle, loe reported out of the selfe author in his worke of y^e Attyke nights. Both for they are bryefe, & also for the presi­dēt is notable, & famous for others to folowe. Philippe greeteth wel Aristotle. Knowe you, we haue a sonne borne. whereof we muche thanke the Gods: not so much for his birth, as for it happed him to be borne in your dayes.

For our hope is, that trayned by you he wil proue worthy both vs and oure inheritaunce. Thus wrate Philippe, farre wyser prynce, and louing father then the Nobles of our time. Who prouide theyr costes breakers without respecte of costes: leauing the meane while their children vntaught. Of the Megarenses sayde Diogenes. It was bet­ter be their ramme then their childe. which properly extēdeth to all such as pasture well their horses: and eyther yll [Page]breake, or force not theyr children.

Where it belongeth to fathers, not onely to beget children, but begotten well to breake. Which meaneth Salo­mon, when ofte he mentioneth his mothers parables, in his prouerbes.

And kyng Agasicles sayeth. Their scholer wyll I be, whose childe I am.

Nor euer had those two Gracchi, climed to so loftye fame in pleading: But euē weaned from her teates, their learned mother Cornelia, had poared eloquēce into theyr mouthes and mindes. Nor halfe so greate, growen the glorye of Hortensius, had not the firste seedes of his sugred stile bene sowen, whyle yet he laye in his fathers armes. Suchē was whilome Noble parents care, in breeding noble Impes. This theyr glorye, that nowe with them lyeth raked in graue.Of in­structing Noble we [...]s children. But yeelde we thus muche, eyther to their ease or igno­rance. Certes at least, maisters ought they on al sides proui [...]e, for whatsoe­uer hire: herein at leaste to proue them selues fathers, not onely of their bo­dies but mindes. For howe foolyshe [Page]thy, & infamous to the fathers estima­tion is it, Yf his bodye well prouided and costlye cladde, his minde vnfra­med, he lewdly demeane him selfe, in honourable assemblye? And there be­wraye his childishenes, where lad [...]n talke, with grauest and wisest sence, is looked for. For what test were it (thinke ye) if a musician of seemely fa­uoure and well proportioned bodye, iuste heighte, and manly beauty, wel clad in silckes, holdinge a sweete me­lodyous instrument, hold enter in ho­norable presence: and hauinge thus on, all partes raysed greate erpectati­on: all noyse hushd and solempne sy­lence made, sodaynly begyn to bleate, with a harshe, rustical, and rude voice? and mow with hys mouth, and filthe lye wrye in and out his body? Or how hisse we oute a wel apparayled plaier, if counterfaiting a kinge on the stage, he faile of his iesture, speake yawning haue a sower and harshe voyce, mysse his action, or vse vnseemely iesture for so stately personage?

Doth not be then muche more aban­done him selfe to laughter and con­tempt, who abounding w^t all the gyf­tes, god and fortune may geue: placed by them in chiefe and swarming plentye, lyfted to the highest tipe of honor, His bodye decked and trimmed at all peyntes: beareth about a rude, rusti­call, and rough minde? And with fil­thines of life, defameth both him self and his auncestoures? Wherefore, more heedefull care muste parentes take, for theyr childrens mindes, then bodyes noblesse. These are the pa­rentes partes. This the duty of lear­ned teachers. To vndertake this No­ble and honourable charge of enfour­ming Nobility, when eyther the pa­rentes can not, or wyllnot.

For nothing may they doe, eyther for theyr renowme more glorious, or for the learners profite more commodi­ous, or more appliable, to the safetys and dignitie of theyr whole countrey. For moste gentlemanlye wittes haue they, whych poolished with liberall sciences, may with theyr councel grauitie, [Page]and wysedome, singulerlye de­serue of mankinde. Rude and vnpoly­shed become meanes of many dolefull Tragedies. For the fruitfuller the soyle is, the sooner waxeth it bushye, brierd thornye thistied, and weedye: lyenge a whyle vnhusbanded. So happs it in the Nobles pleasanter wittes, with­out learning, soone ouergrowen with filthy vyces. So as boldened by blunt power, blynde ignorance, and vnskil­ful aucthoritye: the mightier they be, the rather, not whereto they oughte, but lyst they apply theyr power. wherfore, as rather we sowe, the land that yelds most plenteous encrease, to fede the greatest multitude, then Antisthe­nes piddel, scarsely suffising him selfe: (as singulerlye sayde Plutarche) so is it no great matter, to enstruct some pri­uate man, lurkynge in a corner, Coy­ninge Sillogismes in Soles, chempalinge him selfe with Geometrical Cyrcles, del­ued in some poore Coate, and of no e­stimation or possessions. But moste gloryous is the employed trauayle, in teaching such one by whome, not one [Page]only, but many, yea a whole common welth, mayest thou profite. In earing therefore, this moste plentuous and fruitful plot, busily toyle parents and maisters. Herein sweate they nighte & day, to til the Nobles with learnyng, sowe them with vertue, weede them from vyce. For of them selues cā they not withoute teacher learne. As ney­ther the fruitfulst grounds yeld graine without tillage. And the good yere (as they saye) not the soile causeth plenty nor the lyeng, bounty, or nature of the plotte, but rather the fauour, showers and rayne, distilde from the heauens, and diligent husbandrye. So, neyther here auayleth dyscente of stocke, but enstruction. Nor gentlemāly toward­nes, but education, and the teachers trauayle. For, proner are they to euyl, but they be taught aright. Aristo Chius euel hearinge for reasonynge rechles­lye with all men, and admittinge all indifferently to conference: answered godly as a good man, wyselye as a lo­uer of wysedome. He would enstructe euen beastes, yf they vnderstoode the talke that tendeth to vertue. If a so­ueraygne [Page]wyse, and learned Sage, doubted not to professe, to teache euen reasonles beastes, so they coulde con­ceaue: much more then ought the lear­ned employe theyr councell, trauayle, and care, to shape and forme a man.

And if a man, how much more a No­ble man? who is on eyther part armed with aucthorytie, eyther to ouerthrow or mayntaine a state? For why alas choose bothe Fathers and chyldren, rather to reste blynde then see? Why rather to vse others eyes, then theyr owne? Where if possyble were, they ought haue as percynge sight as Linx, as plenteous as Argus. Yea euen a hundred eyes, to see theyr heauye charge. why wil they as beares, be led about byothers, whōrather it behoued to leade others? Why kepe they suche troupes of saylekes, nayliks, loiterers & flatterers? retainyng y^e whyle not so much as one learned man, or teacher, eyther for them selues, their Chyl­dren, or their whole familye? but sithe wee haue sufficyently proued it theyr parte, to see theyr Chyldren taught, [Page]retourne we now to the maner of tea­chinge. First therefore be bee taughte the arte of wordes, then the prac­tise of deedes. that both he know, how to frame his talke dyscretely, wel, and wisely: and order and dispose his lyfe and doinges, comely and consonant to vertue, nature, and gods wyll. That these meates and bounds, determine a Noble mans schoole, it is manifest by Homere. Sayinge one Phenix was a­lowed Achilles, by his father Peleus, to make him an Dratour of wordes, and practiser of deedes. Of the firste grounds of grammer, and pryncyples of speache and talke, I wil say nought Thus muche onely at this presente I warne, he be with all spede prouided a maister, both learned and godly. For hardlye is it rased, that is grauen in tender yeares. As witnesseth Hierom, wrytinge of the institution of a Noble gentlewoman, to her mother Laeta in this wise. A master must she be proui­ded of reasonable yeares, fauteles life, and learning. Nor will any I thinke, refuse to doe for his sister a Noble vir­gine, [Page]that Aristotle did for Philyps sonne Whom for want of A. B. C. masters, him selfe taught his characters. Smal thinges without whom greater maye not stād, ought not be neglected. The very sound of the letters, and first in­stitution of prynciples, otherwyse pro­cedeth from a learned and vnlearned teacher. Wherefore those onelye A. B. C. Masters, must they banishe theyr housen. For the same Hierom witnes­seth, Alexander in his maners and gate coulde not forgoe his master Leonidas faults, wherewith though younge hee was infected. Now muche more then, must the authour of any vnsound doc­trine, or master of superstition, be cha­sed?

Prouyde therefore this learned and godly teacher,A noble mans schoole and ma­ner of studye. after the precepts, and rules of grammer moste briefely, and compendiously abrydged, and taught oute of some one, not many auctours: (sith there is great diuersitie and con­fusion) that the best Latine wryters folowe. As the familyerst exquisitest, and briefest of Ciceros Epistles. Dialoges [Page]most delight that age. And therefore, Ciceros Cato, or Lelius, may they reade. Hereto may certayne chose colloquies of Chastalio, and Erasmus, bee coupled. Tymely to sowe the seedes of godly­nes and vertue, in theyr tender herts. And Terence also, but wyth ryper yea­res and iudgement. If any fylthe be entermedled, let the trustie diligēce of the teacher remedy it, vsinge sounder authours, as tryacle to expelle it. Nor truly, would I yeld Terence this roome but for I saw Cicero somuch esteme him who, toke not the leaste parte of elo­quence of him. As Chrisostom of Aristo­phanes, y^e excellēce of the Attyke toung. A poete neuertheles, bothe nippynge in taunts, and wanton in talke, & no lesse hurtfull to honestye. But bee the hardest firste imprinted. For growen ryper in yeares and knowledge, they lightly neglect them as trifles. Ther­fore, not litle helpeth it, euen at firste, to learne them Greeke and Hebrewe. preposterously do al vnyuersities, scholes, and teachers that contrarye it.

For aboute the bushe runne they to [Page]arts, who vnderstād not the Original tounges. Of the Greeke, no vnplea­saunte authours, are Esope, Ioachimus Camerarius, Ethike Arithmologie: a lytle booke, but ladynge fewe preceptes, with great stoare of learnyng. of ora­tours, Isocrātes, Demofthenes, and the moste reuerende aucthour, and Ora­tour Christ Iesus, with Thapostles. whose wrytynges, I alowe euer fyrste and laste. The Hebrewe oute of the By­bles moste purelye, and onely floweth. In these harder tounges, muche a­uayleth the trustye, playne, and lear­ned explycation, of a paynefull tea­cher. The auncyent Nobilytie reue­renced chiefelye Poetes. Therefore Senekes Tragedyes, Plautus Comedies, Ver­giles Georgykes, and Warryour: of the Latynes, for the statelynes of the matter and stile are moste honoured. which yet, ought y^t knowledge of ver­sifieng forgoe. Euripides Ciceros autho­rity preuaileth to admit. Whose eue­ry verse, he deemth as many Oracles. The diuynitie of Sibilles verse, com­mendeth [Page]be he also skilfull in the Chronicles of his countrey. Least amids hys trauail in foren Realmes, he become a forren at home. To this ciuyle knowledge also belong Iustinians institutions, the Pandects, and the whole course of the ciuyle lawe. And bothe all antiquitye, and the law and statutes of our owne realme. wherin, so skilful ought he be, as he dare professe it. For, the Nobles palayces, ought be the whole contries Oracles. Plato had I almoste ouerpas­sed, with whose lawes and commen welth, he ought moste samylierlye ac­quaynte hym. The Mathematicals haue theyr manyfolde profite. Arithmetike, can hee not want. Geometry muche hel­peth, to placinge, framinge, and con­ueyinge of buyldings. Great dolyghte and profite, bryngeth Geography. But Astrology, I see so rauened, embraced, and deuoured of many: as they neede no spurre to it, but rather a brydle frō it, no trompetter to encourage them, but a chider to restrayne theyr vehe­ment race. Whereto some haue so much credyted as almost dyscrediting [Page]god, they lyghted not on altogethe [...] luckye ende, nor fortolde of the starres nor foreseene of them. I condemne not vniuersally the arte: but thereto, get they me nor counceller, nor fauourer it hath plenty enough of praysers. Be the fine of theyr whole studye, fyrste to knowe god, next them selues. To go­uerne well theyr famylye, the state. Thus, leaue I muche to priuate rea­dynge, and ouerpasse, both Christyan and heathen wryters of later age, or nearer yeares. I passe by also, the Cate chifmes and institutions of Christian Religion. Wherein the chiefe of our age, is Iohn Caluir. And forgat Commentaryes wherein, bothe of oure time, and the auncients, many excelde. Nor meant I to enter that large playne, of deter­mynynge what autthours speciallye they should folow, in eche trade of stu­dye. Wherefore nowe wyll I ende. If first I propose oure Nobles Alexander Seuerus paterne. Wherein as a moste compendyous forme, is closed the sum of theyr whole study. For he, was not altogether estraunged from oure rely­gion. [Page]But in his Oratory, and secrete Closet, besydes the Images of the greate Alexander and Appolonius: had also Christes & Abrahams counterfaites. Of all aucthours hee moste delyghted Virgil and Cicero of the common welth (Which spent throughe the malyce of tyme, nowe appeareth not,) and the same aucthour of dutyes. But com­monly red-hee Greeke wryters. After longe readynge, reuyued hys spi­rytes wyth wrestlynge, and Musyke. In the after noones, gaue hym selfe to wrytinge, pennynge, and pervsynge letters. which exercises likewise, must our Noble man obserue. Translate in to dyuers tounges, penne Orations Epistles, declame, expound aucthours, recount historyes and Apothegmes, dy­late and amplyfie tales, ken by roate sage sawes, and pleasaunt and wittye prouerbes, haue in store ciuile phrases of talke, to greete all commers, enter­tayne straungers, and furnish embas­sades. And courteous manners of speache, in thankinge, table talke, de­maunds, sutes, requests, counsayles, [Page]perswasions, and other vsuall cyuyle theames. which practises may not neglect, who coueteth to thriue and pro­fite in learninge. of Aristotle and Plato I gather, the practises of the auncy­ents were, exercise, Musike, paynting a gentlemanlye recreation, and those partes of learnynge where of present­lye wee entreate. But whereto bable I thus much? sith this matter requy­reth a peculyer treatyse, and more playne and plentifull dyscourse: yea of suche one, as aboundeth bothe in wit and leasure. Therfore this last piller and precept adde I, that in all his life, myds all hys sortes of siudyes, he be a deuyne. For, as the aunciente sages, accompted philosophy thende of all stu­dyes, and euen the Castle of know­ledge: so I in this oure Noble mans race of studye, determyne dyuynytie, both the bound whence, and the gole wherto he runneth. So shall hee imi­tate the auncient maner of the auncy­entes, and become a godly and Chry­stian Noble.

There are also other pryuate ver­tues, [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page]embrace others, be dutieful to his coū trey; louynge to the multitude, and eue populer. In amtry with ofter his poeres, beneficiall to the poore; bol [...] ­tifull to the learned, a [...]atrone & gar­den of schooles, and vniuersities hos­pitall and gent [...] straungers, fano­table to the godlye, and gods fainces, rust to all. The thir [...]e and principall, e [...]arge, is to be religious to Gos wardes. As Moses, Iost [...]s, Dauid, Iostas, E­zechias, Constantine, Theodostus, Aurchiar. Who though a heathen Emperour, him selfe assisted with his presence, the church of Antioche, agaynst Samosa­tem [...] the heretyke byshop. Whom by his authority, he enforced to resygne both the bishoppes house & goodes.

Thus much at this presence, thought I necessarye to counfayle Nobilitye. Namely, to vse godlynes, goodnes, wisedome & learning. This commen deth the lord to them by the mouth of Diuyd, that wisest king of y^e Helrewes, in the second psalme sayeng. Ware wise O ye kinges, be learned ye that iudge the earth. Serue the Lorde in [Page]feare, and reioyce with reuerence.

Embrace his sonne, least bappelye he ware wrathfull, and so ye wander frō the waye. If his furye but a litle kin­dle, o happy who trust in him. Wise­dome, learning, worship, seruyce, ioye with reuerence, the embracinge and kissyng of the Sonne: In fine, what within so longe processe I haue prea­ched, this smal sentēce cōpriseth. And in this short circle & compasse of wor­des, the deuine prophete closeth faith, religion, & purenes of life & maners. Wherefore, forasmuch as to thē, as gardens, God cōmitteth the custody, of his orphane and widowe churche: they oughte prouide, in the burnynge heate to be coole shadowes to it, in af­fliction stayes, in persecution refuge, in tempestes bayes. Finally, remem­ber they, that in accomplishinge the dutyes we haue reckened, consisteth the whole nature, maiestie, and ho­nour of true Nobilitye.

Wherefore O Noble worthyes, both agayne and agayne recount the w^t your selues. what herein I thinke [Page]I haue vttred. And vttred, in my par­ciall fansie trulye. With you resteth, both the power to iudge, and wyll to accomplyshe. Whereto to trayne ye, many causes haue ye. Farre other aydes than the rest, broughte ye wyth ye to this light, euen from your Cra­dels, borne and bred with ye. For this natiue Noblesse, so great honour and renowmed name: your parentes bequeathd ye. Your selues with your owne sweates and toyles earned not. Which thus gotten ye are bounde to preserue and amplifie. Certes, wyth­out great shame and villany, may ye not duske and blemishe. This there­fore ought enflame and encourage ye for we see Nature hath so parciallye dealt with ye, that euen the Nobility of your birth, is a thinge of it selfe a­miable. As it were a loadstone of loue And what others, with sundry swea­tes and long trauaile, hardly or scarce at last attayne: that ye haue euē with your birth dealth from aboue. Name­lye the reuerence, loue, honoure, and estimacion of all men. To ye lie open [Page]the easie entries to honoures. Which both wonte and ought raise and quic­ken the dullest courages. whyche is farre vnlike with others. Howebeit, it beseemeth ye, not to craue, but earne them: not so much to coueyt, as execute theym. Hereto also prouoke ye your might & power. The sino wes & necessarye mayntenances, of all ho­norable enterprises. wherewyth sith ye abound, the meaner want, it shall be youre parte, to furnishe these for­ren and accessary giftes of Fortune, with the iewelles of wisedome, lear­ning, and vertues. These loe encou­rage ye. But the same headlonges whirle, the worlde, fleshe, pleasures, riches, honour. whych baytes manye times, turne other by wayes, a mind not suerly setled, nor altogether con­stant. wherefore, as your guerdons are greater, so greater charges are required of you. And as ye abounde in more plentuous and fruitefull giftes so more painefullye must ye trauayle not to seeme vnwdrthye those bene­fites of God. And the more occasions [Page]call ye to your dutye, the greater pe­ryll dependeth on neglectyng they m [...] On all sides, euen the thinges, that most ought haue furthered ye, in wel doynge: awayte to entrappe ye. On all sides, that deadlye and: hateful foe of all mankinde, but chiefely the No­bles: barkes at ye. He snareth not the simple onelye, but euen the greatest, the highest, the Noblest. Yf anye of them he angle, happy he accounteth him selfe. And thereof victoriouslye triumpheth. For his throate is dain­tie as sayeth the prophete. And he wil be fed with fine prates, not commen cates. And harde is it trulye with so manye wiles of that olde foxe not to be circumnented. True is that doome, by God pronounced of your order. That fewe princes beleued on Christe. Manye persecuted hym [...] Not manye Nobles were called, the kynges and princes of the earth, as­sembled and withstood the lorde, and his anoynted. wherefore, if any gen­tilmanly conrage rest in youre royall hartes, if any Noble bloud remaine, [Page]yf ye haue any care of true dignitye, anye loue of prayse, wherewith won­teth for the moste, all Nobilitye to be trayned, and tickled: see and foresee that ofte ye recounte these precepces. Beware ye despise not y^e chiefe part [...] yea the whole and selfe Nobilitye. More affectioned to lyght trifles and toyes. Feare God, practise vertus, charge other with benefites, your sel­ues with vertues. Which may turne to the honour of your selues, thorna­ment of the realme and commodi­tie of others. Whiche yet at length to see, frō the bot­tome of my harte I be­seche almighty God for his Noblest sonnes sake. Amen.