IN the declining season both of the yeere and of my age, trauailing farre from my natiue home & countrie, solitarie & sorow­full all alone, my thoughtfulnes did of a sodayne waken & reuiue my slum­bring memorie, by renewing vnto her the time and historie of my passed youth, and, quick­ning my senses with a fresh and vnusuall vigor, forcibly recalling my mynde to the considera­tion of my presente state, by suggesting there­vnto, infinite and confused discourses of my many variable and dangerous forepassed for­tunes, did begin at length to argue with mee in this sort,

First, quoth she, Whosoeuer is forgetfull, or carelesse of himselfe and his estate,Nothing so miserable as the man that lyueth careles of his estate. flyeth not the pitch of true honor, neyther shall at any tyme see hymselfe beautified with the glorious bryghtnesse of her perfection: in which mise­rable lethargie yf he perseuere, then is his case most lamentable, and vtterly desperate, as not [Page] onely depriued of this worldes honor, but al­so of that euerlasting glorie and eternall health, to which, blessed myndes with the winges of a vertuous industrie do aspire. Seest thou not, quoth she, how miserable a face of thinges, the now passed and gon sweete Sommer season hath left vnto vs? The earth is now dispoyled of all her beautifull raymentes, and glyttering or­namentes, her greene and fruitefull florishing hearbes, her so fayrely colored flowers, and sweete odoriferous smelles are gone: Both playnes and mountaynes are now depriued of all their passed pleasures, hauing nothyng left them to delyght the beholders eyes, but a bare and naked barrennesse. The high stately Trees, that lately so aloft florished (all vigor and plea­sing greennesse being lost) haue now neyther fruite nor shadow, hauing yeelded all their glo­rie to the nipping rigor of the colde, that hath bereaued them of their fragrant humour: Such as this of theirs, is thy estate, who hauing now ouergon the sundry degrees and seasons, as the Spring, Sommer, and Autumne of thy age, rest assured, that thy Winter is at hande: onely this is the difference, that thou canst not be agayne renewed in this worlde, as are these vegetatiue creatures: for so is it by the eternall wisedome enacted, that there is no going backe from that [Page 2] degree of age, whereunto a man is once ariued.

It behoueth thee therefore well and wysely to ponderate with thy selfe, that thou now dra­west on towarde the exceeding dangerous horror of an ineuitable passage, kept by an euer victorious enemie, called DEATH,The passage of death kept by two Cham­pions, Acci­dent, and De­bilitie. who en­tertayneth in his dayly wages, two myghtie and puissant Champions, the one called Accident, the other Debilitie: the cumbate with one of which, thou canst not by any meanes auoyde. These two vnuanquished Champions do keepe the great forrest of Atropos, agaynst all aduen­turers: the passage of which, as it is most dan­gerous, so is it full of horror and amazement. For such is the nature of their chalenges, that they neuer desist fyght, tyll they see him whom they haue vndertaken conquered and dead, them selues being free from death, and carelesse of repose. The elder of them, and most ter­rible, is Accident, who with variable and vncer­tayne kindes of fight, bereaueth, for the most part, the liues of braue and lustie youthes, in the prime & strength of their vnmellowed yeeres: yea, and sometimes he sporteth himselfe in the death of olde men, women, and chyldren. But hydeous Debilitie, with inuisible blowes, killeth onely those that are weake, and languishyng. They are so nusled in blood, that their dayly [Page] exercise and practise, is nothing but to murder and destroy mankinde, neyther is their puis­sance by any pollicie to be deluded, nor by any agilitie, or stratageme to be auoyded.

This being so, iudge then with thy selfe, in how great degree, these myghtie foes are to be feared. Thou hast been long agone summoned to this battayle, by Excesse, their heralde at Armes, and therefore the fyght being so full of perill, and the matter of such importaunce, I cannot but much maruell at this thy carelesse vnreadinesse, especially seeing at thy very birth­day thou wert waged therunto. Thou doest not exceede Sampson in inuincible strength, Hercules in valorous courage, Salomon in profound wyse­dom, Tullie in powerful perswading eloquence, Diomedes in vigorous vnderstanding, nor Ab­solon in delicious beautie: yet no one of these was able to resist these death-bringing Cham­pions, that euen now attende thee in the lystes. The farther that the vncertayne race of thy mi­serable lyfe lyngreth on, the nearer approcheth the houre of thy ineuitable conflict, to which attende no other trumpet, then the dolefull knowlling of a deadly Bell. Therefore with all instance I aduise thee, to looke well about, and to call well all thy wittes tegeather, that thou mayst be the better prepared, agaynst the hard [Page 3] brunt of so terrible a reckoning.

Herewith my thoughtfulnesse ending,Author. I a­waked, as it were out of a drowsie traunce or dreame, thanking her in the highest degree for these her carefull admonitions, and withal tolde her, that for mine owne part, I was redy to per­forme as much as to a true resolued Gentleman did appertaine: and therewithall, presently without delay put on my armour, and lyke a Knight aduenturous, passed foorth onward on my way. My horses name was Desire, my har­nesse tempred in the water of Puissance, my shielde, of Hope, my launce, of Aduenture, and my sworde, of Courage.

In this equipage, I entred into the quest of my so much renowned aduersaries; at the ende of two dayes trauaile, in which I had not found any aduenture worthy the wryting, I came into a very greene and florishing Medowe, the name whereof was Worldly pleasure:The fayre feeldes of worldly plea­sure. The out­warde shew whereof presented vnto my senses such pleasure and delyght, that rauished with contentment, forgetfull of my iourney and vndertaken enterprise, I euen determined to re­mayne there: But sodainely I myght espie a galant Ruffler, that came fiercely coursing along the Medow, bidding me defende my selfe, for without farther delay, he meant to iust with me. [Page] I was much moued with the roughnesse of his speach and iesture, as also that he had interrup­ted me in the sweetenesse of those delyghtes wherein my senses were lulled a sleepe. I askt hym yf he were a Gentleman? and withall, of what name and Countrey? My name, quoth he (in an ill tuned harsh and queasy voyce) is Ill Diet: Yll Diet, his propertie and parentage. My office is to put all out of order where I come. My linage is noble: for Glutto­nie is my mother, and I am her eldest sonne: I am maynteyned with ryches, norished in de­lices, and hyghly esteemed in the court of Princes.

Are you then, quoth I, eyther of these war­riours that do with such vnuanquished puis­sance, keepe the forest of vnmercifull Atropos? Neyther of them, quoth he, but yet their great familiar friende, and lyue by the same chase which they do: which is, by persecutyng of lyfe. And therewithall,Yll diet en­countreth the author in the playne of w [...]rldly plea­sure. he gaue me such a blow with his launce of lytle witte, vpon the bosse of my guylded target, that I do yet full well feele the weight of his encounter: neuerthelesse, pullyng my spirites vnto me, with an eagre desire of re­uenge, with a full carrere, I brake my Lance on his bosome: and foorthwith we both layde handes on our swordes,The maner of their fight. with which, being tem­pered in folly, we gaue one an other migh­tie [Page 4] blowes of banquettes, bathings, quaf­fings, watchings, wantonnesse, and such lyke: wherein Time, the treasure of life is consumed, and nothing hoorded vp, but griefe and repen­tance. When he had almost weeried me with these kindes of blowes, then he let driue at me a freshe with many disorderly strokes, of daun­cyng, running, leaping, playing at tennis, im­moderate exercise, sweatyng, sodayne colde ta­kyng, and other such lyke, so deadly and dange­rous greetings, that without all doubt he had then made an ende of my daies, had not a Lady,The author is foyled by Yll diet, and suc­coured by Re­liquia Iuuen­tutis. called Reliquia iuuentutis, commen to my suc­cour, who though in a maner tyred with often helpyng me in such lyke combates, yet did in defence of my health, put foorth the vttermost of her force and vertue, requestyng my aduer­sarie to leaue the fyght, and to geue me respit, to see yet somewhat farther on in the worlde. I am contented, quoth he, for the farther he runneth on in the worlde, and the more trust he putteth in his owne forces, the more certaine is his destruction: yet before he depart, because he hath behaued himselfe so stoutely with me, I wyll bestow a Cappe vpon him,Yll diet presen­teth him with a cappe. dyed in my colours, of such operation and vertue, that it shall distyll a fountayne of rhewmes and hu­mors, into his eyes, legges, thyghes, armes, and [Page] ioynts, so that in one part or other of his bodie, while he liues, go where he will, he shall haue cause to remember my acquantance. In geuing me which present, he departed with exceeding haste, leauing me extreamely turmoyled, and sore in my bones with the weerinesse of this combate. But my greatest griefe was, that wher­as in this last conflict, I had beene relieued through the helpe of that litle youth that was remaining in me,Reliquia iu­uentutis doth abandon him. the same also being my chie­fest comfort, did now of a sodaine abandon me, bidding me hereafter gouerne my selfe well, for of her I neyther coulde nor shoulde re­ceiue any farther assistance.

Being thus forsaken, I folowed on my way, desolate and comfortlesse, not knowyng whi­ther: Onely my thoughtfulnesse still suggested vertue and valour vnto my minde, animating me to perseuere on in this important voyage.

But as my mynde doubtfully wauered in sundry and diuers thoughts amidde this vn­certaine way, the night drawing on, I might espie an aged fatherly Hermite,The author amidds his wandring, lighteth vpon the mantion of vnderstan­ding. not farre off, standing before the doore of his Cell, whose graue and courteous aspect, encouraged me to acquaint him with my wandering vncertaine voyage, and in frendly sort to entreate him of harbour for that nyght. The good Hermite [Page 5] bade me from his hart welcome, and by his countenance & worde assured me, that I should finde him a most freendlie and comfortable Hoste. He himselfe disarmed me, and bringing me into the inwarde part of his lodging, did cast a warme mantle about my shoulders.

Me thought I did neuer beholde a man of more pleasing behauiour, nor one whose con­uersation did more delight me. After that he had called for water to refresh me, he led me in­to a litle Chappel, exceedinglie full of beautie, and euen with the very sight moouing to deuo­tion; in which, kneeling downe at my prayers, I saw sundry workes of pietie and repentance, curiously wrought and garnished round about with sundry examples of Reformed life, all set foorth in so comelie a sort, and in so liuely co­lours, that I was euen in a maner rauished with the sight thereof, if the good Hermite, consi­dering my passed trauaile, and the latenesse of the nyght, had not by calling me to supper, withdrawen my minde from the infinitenesse of contemplation, whereunto the rare vertue of these glorious sightes had mooued it.

As we sate at the table, I coulde not with­draw mine eyes from beholding his face. His age was not lothsome, but florishyng in vertue, and himselfe wise, though not according to our [Page] common worldly conceyte, yet in the deapth of that wisedome, that leadeth the soule to sal­uation. I coulde not refrayne from asking his name, and withall the cause that did mooue him, being so notable a man, to liue retired in so solitarie a place.

To satisfie your demaunde, quoth he, You shall vnderstande, that I do well know both you and your estate, which did the more moue me to geue you entertainement. As for me, I am called, Vnderstanding, a name in the worlde well worthie of honour, though it be of the most part wrested, turned, and misdeemed. I haue re­tired my selfe vnto this place, to the ende, that by Gods grace and goodnesse, I might leaue the wyde way of the worlde, that leadeth to euer­lasting perdition. The bread I feede vpon is seasoned with sobrietie, and the wine I drinke is watred with the pure liquor of sincere liuing: That which suffiseth;Reason, the seate or man­tion of vnder­standing. susteyneth me. No pas­sion, enuie, or dissention, hath entrance into this house of mine, which is called Reason. Here I hope to leade the rest of my life, and to ende my dayes,The ende of true wisedome and vnder­standing whereto di­rected. in flying the allurementes of the fleshe and the worlde, and seeking with my soule, him that did with his blood redeeme it.

Onely the thought of sinne, is bitter and greeuous vnto me, from occasion of the [Page 6] which, as I do now liue sequestred, so I beseech the guyder of the heauens to encrease in me perseuerance in this life, which I haue vnder­taken. As for your estate, linage, name, and con­dition, I am thereof well informed: likewise of the aduenturous enquest, which in this dan­gerous voyage of yours, you haue vndertaken. Neither am I ignorant of your natiue countrie, the marches of Burgundie, in the miserable af­fliction of which, with warre, desolation, and bloodshed, vnweeried fortune seemeth to take such pleasure. As for your selfe, seeing, like a valiant Martire, you haue determined to bestow your life vpon these two tyrannizing Cham­pions, whose cruell handes neuer any of your foregoers that contended with them (how fa­mous or warlike soeuer) coulde escape, without bodily death and dissolution, I will geue you the best and most expedient aduice I can.

First you must know, that Accident is alwayes,Accident, al­wayes ready to entrappe and bereaue life. and at all houres redy mounted and armed, attended vpon with all sortes of mischiefe, and pernitious engines, to bereaue mortall men of their liues. Debilitie helpeth him, as neede re­quireth: so that betweene them, they suffer none to escape. But notwithstanding all this, the greatnesse of your enimies puissance, and your danger, yet such is the condition of mankinde, [Page] and such the course and poynt whereunto you are now arriued, that flie backe or retire, by any meanes you may not. Therefore proceede on a Gods name with a resolued courage: for as the danger is great, so great wilbe your glorie, if you do but withstande Accident alone: yea so much, that you may aduance your armes, and set foorth your trophees equally with the most famous conquerour that euer was.

And insomuch therefore that heedefulnesse, and warie circumspection, is the chiefest meane to the accomplishment of great thinges, I will bestow vpon you a Lance, so surely steeled with a head of good gouernement,Good gouern­ment a sure defence a­gainst all ca­sualties. that if you vse it rightly, and make therewith resistance at any time when Accident shall distresse you, he shalbe able to do you but litle greeuance. But the surest preseruatiue I can geue you, is, euery day in the morning when you rise, to com­mende your selfe deuoutely and zelously vnto almighty God,The surest preseruatiue a­gainst the vi­olence of Ac­cident. desiring him to be a stedfast guide to your vncertaine steppes, in the transi­torie course of this your wandring mortalitie: and forget not to be thankefull vnto him, for the many benefites, which for his part so plen­teously, without any desart of yours, he hath be­stowed vpon you.

With these, & such like speache, we brought [Page 7] supper to an ende, where, after hauing giuen thankes vnto God, he brought mee to my cham­ber: the bed he appointed me was of Quiet se­curitie, euen such, as I my selfe would haue de­sired, wherin I was no soner laied, but that I fell into a sound sweetnesse of sleepe,The sleepes of true vnder­standing are secure. and so conti­nued till the next morning, being awaked with the sound of a litle bell, that roung vnto diuine seruice: hearing of which I arose quicklie, and comming downe, did finde the Alter called Per­fection, couered with the Ornamentes of Trueth, and a chapleine whose name was Humilitie, re­uested in a Pure surples of perfect charitie, be­ginning the holie seruice, which after he had en­ded, and my Hoast finished his orizons, he sa­luted me, and demaunded what rest I had ta­ken? to which I answered, as I had cause, that I neuer in my life had receiued the like content­ment & quiet repose. With that, he seeming wel appaide that I had so well liked of my lodging, opened a back doore, which to my seeming was of Remorse, the lock a cleere Loking glasse, and the key Desire of knowledge: within the same was a cloyster or gallerie full of strange emblemes, pic­tures, and engines: to marke & vnderstand the particularitie and meaning of whose diuers ma­ners & formes, I was with great wonder verie heedfull and attentiue: which the gentle Her­mite [Page] perceyuing, did of himselfe offer to explane them vnto me,Vnderstan­ding doth here represent vnto the author, the infinite wayes and weapons, wherwith Ac­cident assay­leth mankind, and to make him haue the more appre­hension therof, doth lay before him the cala­mitous ends of sundry worthy personages, pe­rishing in di­uers sortes, & sheweth him the wepons wherwith Ac­cident berea­ued them of their liues. Cain the first manslear. Sampson, Deianeira & Hercules. to the end that he might make me the better acqueinted with the seueral kindes of death-bringing instrumentes, that my aduer­sarie Accident doth accustomablie vse.

First quoth he, see here this culter of a plowe: with this did enuious Cain, guided by Accident, murther his innocent brother Abel. He was the first that did till and delue the ground: likewise the first that in the world did commit the cruell deede of mans-slaughter.

See here the statelie Marble pillars, which migh­tie Sampson pulld downe, and therwith the fun­dation of the Philistian pallace, dying himselfe contented, because with his ruine did also pe­rish those his malicious enemies that had before so insolentlie triumphed at his miserable calami­tie. This did hee through a noble indignation, and Accident was the onely contriuer of so great a mischefe.

See here the burning shirt, the deadlie gift of a traiterous Centaure, with which Deianeira, pore deceaued Ladie, thinking to procure wholly vnto her selfe the loue of Hercules her famous husband, was occasion both to him and her selfe of direfull and violent deathes, and Accident hereof the onely executioner.

See heere the cruel poniardes, wherewith in the [Page 8] heigth of his greatnesse,Iulius Caesar stabbed with daggers. most glorious Caesar, ha­uing vanquished all publique enemies, was by a priuate conspiracie of his dissembled freendes, stabbed & murthered in the senate house, Acci­dent did strangely bring him to this tragical end, as most plainely the Romane histories do make manifest.

See heere the fatall Box, wherein faithlesse Antipater kept the virulent poison,Alexander the great poy­soned by An­tipater. wherwith he murthered admirable Alexander king of Mace­done, and conquerour of the worlde.

See heere the great and mightie trunchon of that deathfull speare, wherewith fierce Achilles slew magnanimous Hector, Hector slaine with a speare by Achilles. bulwarke of Troy and terror of the Grecians.

This was againe the fatall bow and stedie di­rected arrow,Achilles slaine by Par is with an arrow. wherewith effeminate Paris, the firebrand of his country, vnmanfullie reueng­ing the death of his noble brother, traitorously to death wounded the glorie of the Grecian armie, when full of ragefull loue, he nothing lesse then death suspected.

This was the vnhappie sworde,Pompey be­headed by the commande­ment of young Ptolomee. wherewith the honorable head of great Pompey was cut off, by the vniust commaundement of the periured Egiptian traitor, staining therewith his owne glorie, and ouerthrowing the piller wherevpon Romes greatnesse was propped.

[Page] See heere the enuenomed ring,Hannibal poysoned out of a ring. out of which fearelesse Hanniball tooke his last draught of deadly poyson: the greatnesse of his inuincible minde, choosing by his owne handes rather to die, then to yeld to any the least thought of cap­tiuitie, cursing, as he died, the head and king­dome of the disloial Bithinian Prince, for hauing violated the lawes of hospitalitie.

See heere the bloodie Iaueline wherewith great king Agamemnon, Agamemnon murthered by Aegistus by his wiues con­sent. by the wicked consent of his detestable wife, was trecherouslie slaine by Aegistus. Ten yeeres had he warred in Asia, com­maunding all the vnited forces of the Grekish princes, and lastly hauing burnt and razed Troy, returning victoriously home, in steede of glori­ous reposefull happinesse, with hope of which he flattered him selfe, was thus by Accident re­quited.

See here the well sharpned Cimitarre,Holofernes slaine by Iu­dith with a Cimitarre. which guyded by the delicate hande of faire Iudith, did deuide the brisled head of sleeping Holo­fernes from his huge giantlie carkas. Great was the ioy of this deede vnto the Israelites, and great was herein the successe of Accident.

This is the Hammer,Syzara slaine by Iabel with a nayle. and therewith ioyntly the Nayle, wherewith vertuous Iabel ended the vnworthie life of wicked Syzara, geuing there­with ioy to the people, and glorie to the great­nesse [Page 9] of Accident.

These were the fatall Lances of the two young Theban Princes,Etheocles and Polinices slaine with mutuall woundes of ei­thers Lance. Polinices and Etheocles; either of which, through ambitious desire to raigne, did bereaue the other both of life and raigne; whose bodyes, as while they liued did harbour deuided and disagreeing soules, so did their flames after death, when with pompous solemnitie they were to be burned, refuse to ioyne.

This was the sharpe piercing dagger, where­with dissembling Ioab mortallie to death woun­ded credulous Abner, Abner stab­bed by Ioab. while he helde him in his armes, embraced with a cheerefull disguysed shew of gladnesse.

This was the well directed Stone, and this the farre reaching Sling,Golyas slaine by Dauid with a sling and a stone. out of which the fee­ble hande of young Dauid guyded it, to the fall and death of great and puissant Golyas, who a­lone was a terrour to the whole Israelites.

This was the well imployed Halter, where­in proude Aman was strangled,Aman stran­gled with a halter. for endeuo­ring with damnable entent to murther and de­stroy the chosen and beloued people of God, whereby the vertuous Queene Hester procured great honor to Mardocheus, and executed in Aman the mighty power of Accident.

We had not visited the fourth part of this [Page] place, so many, so strange, and so diuerse, were the instrumentes that Accident vsed to surprise mens liues withall, when the good Hermite withdrew me from thence, willing me not to forget, but mindfully to consider of those his reliques which I had seene.

Being thence departed, when I began with perfect iudgement to consider of the thinges which I had viewed, though the strangenesse and varietie of them were somewhat delightful: yet coulde I not but feele a great tendernesse and perplexitie in my minde, to consider that so many great and excellent men, had been by Accident so cruelly murthered and made away; some, euen at such instantes, as the vayne frailtie of this deceauing worlde did promise vnto them a stable and firme estate in all glorie, hap­pinesse, and contentment: withall it was a griefe vnto me, that I had not seene the rest which re­mayned, the which in apparance was ten thou­sande millions of times more, then that which I had seene.

But withall I wondred much, that among so many remarkable trophees of Accidents victo­ries, I had not seene any of his companion Debi­litie: which my freendly Hoast perceiuing, tolde me, that if I did at my returne repaire vnto him, he woulde likewise satisfie mee therein, [Page 10] and make me acquainted with the wonderous puissance of Debilitie: As for now, he chieflie desired to prepare me against the violence of Accident, as being of the two the more cruel and sodaine; and then he discoursed vnto me of ma­ny great and mighty Princes, that he had at vnawares surprised and murthered, some tast­ing of delicious meates, some riding and mana­ging of proude horses, some geuing audience to sutors,Sundrie prin­ces bereaued of their liues, euen in the middest of their sweetest pleasures. some riding in triumph to the capitoll, some by sea, some by lande, some by fire, some by fall of houses, some by thunder, some by earthquakes, some in dauncing, some in sing­ing, yea and some fast embraced in the armes of their beloued mystres, euen in the pleasingest action of their Loue.

Herewith the aged Father, being loth to re­taine me any longer from my intended voyage, with tearefull eyes embracing me, recommen­ded me vnto God, willing me not to be vn­mindfull of his counsails, and withall requested me at my returne, if I did escape with life, to come visite him: which promising him to do, I presently put on my armour, and taking the Lance of Good gouernment which he had geuen me, I leapt a horsebacke, and went foorth on my iorney.

I had not long trauailed, when I entred into [Page] a vallie, that did directly leade me to a plaine, which in appearance seemed to be aboue mea­sure great and spatious.

This plaine I speake of,The playne of tyme. is called Time, which though it be large & farre extended, yet scarcely doth the passenger come vnto it, when he is al­redie beyonde it; and the nature thereof is such,The nature thereof. that pleasure & contentment do passe through it so vnconstantly, and with such swiftnesse, that they leaue in celeritie the winds behinde them.

I was no sooner come thither, but my Horse,Desire hardly restrayned. whose name (as before I tolde you) was Desire, tooke so strongly the head, that do what I could, I was not able to stay him, till he had brought me farre beyonde the middle of the playne: where, striuing to restraine his course, I might espie before me a fierce Champion, that seemed in guyse of skilfull warriour to bid me battaill.

His armour was of Trauaile, the courser that he bestradde was called Payne, his shielde re­sembled the Sunne, in which were figured exercise and slouth, drousie slumber, and watchfull diligence. His coatarmour was of Constant suf­fring; and by his outwarde shew, it seemed that he had been in many broyles, and newly esca­ped out of a great battaill. He thought I could haue stayed a great while to beholde him and his demeanoure; but that the sharpenesse of his [Page 11] salutation gaue me no such leysure:Heere the Author en­countreth age, and striueth mightyly to keepe him off, but neuerthe­lesse in the end he is constrai­ned to yeelde quietly vnto him. for without delay, putting spurres to his enraged Courser, he furiously made towardes me with his Lance enrested: on the other side, I was not behinde hand to requite his kindenesse, but putting my Horse to the vtmost of his carrere, met him with so rude an encounter, that though he ouer­threw me to the grounde, yet I made him tot­ter in his saddle: at which, growing impatient, he laide hande on his sworde, and let driue at me with all his force, wherewith he had then without doubt geuen me a mortall wounde, had not I kept him off,Age striketh him with his sworde of many yeeres. and defended my selfe with my Lance of Good gouernment. Ne­uerthelesse he ceassed not to encroch still nea­rer and nearer in vpon me, lending me so manie sturdie strokes, with his sworde of Many yeeres, that I waxed (in a maner) vnable to helpe my selfe any farther, against the heauie neuer-ceas­sing blowes of his vnresistable arme; and at length, to make my miserie the greater, my lance of Good gouernment flew in peeces: wherewith, and thorow the thumps which he had geuen me, my head began to be giddie, my legges to faint, and my eyes to dazle; wherewith, vpon my entreatie (he likewise, being in a maner breathlesse) we agreed to take a litle pause.

After I had a while refreshed my selfe, and re­couered [Page] breath, casting mine eye vpon my ad­uersarie, and in my secrete iudgement, much commending the grauitie of his looke, and the brauenesse of his behauiour, I requested him in kindnesse, to tell me his name and condition. To which answering me in very courteous lan­guage, like a man of good iudgement and setled sense: My discent and linage, quoth he, is of great antiquitie; my proper name is, Age, true register of euery mans time, in which I do neuer deceiue any, neither do I geue my consent to falsenesse. None can passe through the plaine of Time, without comming vnder my handes; and whosoeuer otherwise doth thinke, is farre deceiued, and in errour. For vnder this condi­tion were borne all those that euer enioyed the faire light of this worlde, or euer at any time shal: of which, if any escape my handes, then can he not wander farre in this feelde of Time, but must of necessitie die in the vnfortunate vnripe­nesse of his youth: and to this necessitie are sub­iect, as wel Princes, as priuate men, the faire, rich, noble, and fortunate, as those of contrarie con­dition. Therefore, seeing you are now so farre trauailed in this plaine, that you are come with­in the compas of my power, either without far­ther resistance, yeelde your selfe quietly vnto me, or you shall too late repent, with manie a [Page 12] groning sigh, that euer you striued with me.

But I, not being yet so throughly quayled as to yeeld vnto his perswasion, setled my selfe to resistance: so that defying me a fresh, he let driue at me a new with as great fiercenesse as euer he had done before, laying with his sword, which as I tolde you was of Many yeeres, so hea­uie lode vppon me, that all my limmes began to shake with a feint and trembling numnesse: My trustie Lance of Gouernment was broken be­fore, & now also comming to the cloze, he for­cibly pulled from me my shield of Hope: finding my selfe in which miserable estate, my weapons taken a way, my forces declining, and my bodie weake and decaied, like a man forelorne, I began to feint in my resistance, which my aduersarie perceyuing, with a noble magnanimitie also slac­ked his fight: so that at length,He yeeldeth vnwillingly to Age. finding no other remedie, though much against my will, I was content to render my selfe vnto him, giuing him my faith and promise to remaine his true priso­ner, and to pay him any reasonable raunsome that he should demaund: who, as a great Lord doth his humbled seruant, so receyued he me with signes of loue, taking from me my right gauntlet, in token of his conquest, telling me how behouefull and honorable a thing it was for a prisoner to manteine inuiolably his worde [Page] and faith, especially being a gentleman: as for his parte, he would vse me well, and graunt me my libertie: but it behoued me, on peine of per­iurie and dotage,Age enioy­neth the au­thour to the accomplish­ment of some thinges vppon peine of per­iurie and do­tage. to promise him the accom­plishment of some such things, as for mine own honor and good he would enioyne me to. To which, when I had with all willingnesse agreed, First, quoth he, you shall flie from the territorie of Loue, whose Lorde is an abusing flatterer, whose pleasure is a secret baite, conteining vn­der it nothing but gall and bitternesse, and final­lie, whose sequell is nothing but sorow and re­pentance,Loue. hauing nothing in it that is true, but deceipt onely: so that it becommeth not a man of honor, beeing once receyued into my ac­queintance, to applie himself to any such follies, of which he cannot expect any other fruict, then griefe of time misspent, burden of conscience, vaine expence, and derision of the worlde; be­sides a thousande other inconueniences.

Besides,Mariage. there is a vallie called Mariage, which take heede by any meanes you enter not into, for there are perilles and troubles without num­ber: with which I woulde not haue him, whom I haue taken in protection, not so much as in thought incumbred.

I woulde haue you also leaue on the left hand,Amorous dssportes. seeing they are thinges to vs impertinent and yll [Page 13] beseeming, al wanton conuersations, dauncings, singings, and such like other amorous disportes, as the schoole of idlenesse bringeth foorth.

But aboue all I admonish you, that you keepe your selfe sequestred and free from the courtes of great Princes,Courtly life. where the vncertaine good and honor ambitiously pursued, though obteined (which vnlesse you haue a better spokesman then Vertue, seldome happeneth) yet neuer lightly counteruaileth the certaine losses and assured dangers, that folowe the ficklenesse of that subiected life.

Thither repaire many gallant floorishing youths, pursuing Loue and Honor, with sumptu­ous attire, high lookes, proude wordes, and dis­dainefull thoughts: but in the ende, foyled and ouerthrowen with Ouer-riotous expence, reape nothing in their fall and pouertie, but laughter, mockerie, and contempt, vnlesse it be, that perchaunce against their will, they learne to be humble.

But many there are of my acquaintance, who hauing ouergon, and spent the poasting yeeres of vnmistrustfull youth, either in the vniuersi­ties at home, or in trauayles, or the warres abrode, and by long and paynefull diligence obteined such vertues and qualities as to the seruice of their Prince & Countrey are fitting, [Page] do come at length to make shew of themselues, in this most fayre and magnificent market of the worlde, the Court, flattering themselues with great hope of rewarde, honor, and ad­uancement: and that the rather, because they see there ietting vp and downe, a number of vnpro­fitable peacockes, that haue no worthy thing els in the worlde to vaunt on, then onely the colour of their plumes. But great is herein their error, and as rare their preferment, as the sight of a blacke Swanne. I do not denie, but some­times such a miracle may happen: yet for the most part, Princes are not caried away with a sodaine shew of vertue, neither is it requisite they shoulde: neither do they alwayes dispense their fauours and disgraces, according to the worth and worthlesnesse of each one, but ac­cordingly, as they are by great personages that possesse neere places about them enformed, who either through foretaken conceite, or by enuious Sycophants wrongly perswaded, or some other occasion, do often speake the worst, or els being by many experiences warned and taught, in such cases to be warie & circumspect, least the following behauiour of the partie commended, may be such, as shall geue no cre­dite to his commender, wilbe altogeather silent, so that the chiefest labour must be, to winne the [Page 14] stedfast fauour of one of these great men: which who so vndertaketh, good God, with what a sea of miseries shall he finde him selfe inuironed. For though he misse the almost ineuitable dan­ger of factions and partialities, wherin many haue made shipwracke of their estate, in being by the one sharpely persecuted, & by the other but weakely defended: yet such is the number of malitious parasites, that waite vpon the fortune of great Lords; such the multitude of flatterers, deceiuers, supplanters, vnderminers, espialles, and such like vermine, that attende vpon their court and table, all couering their villanous pre­tences, vnder the maske of vertue, fidelitie, and officious duetie: that being often betrayed, and abused, howsoeuer their outwarde shew be ho­norable and courteous, they will, and can not in wisedome otherwise choose, but beware whom they admit into such degree of fauour; as, that they will for his preferment aduenture their credit: So that the new-come Courtier, yea, though he encline to such humors, as a minde well framed can hardly endure to embrace, shall either as worthlesse be reiected, or els so feintlie fauoured, that he shall not at the yeeres ende be the better two chippes for it, but perchaunce much the worse.

If in the meane time he Court it out among [Page] the Gallants in braue apparell,The misera­ble estate of him that pur­sueth in court. gaming, and li­berall expence, he shalbe condemned as ambiti­tious, of light behauiour, and vnstayed: if other­wise, disgraced with all the titles of basenesse, as vnsuted to the royalties of a Princes court. If he speake, talke, or write; yea, or but studie matter of estate, he lookes into the state, and is dange­rous: if he do neither, he is argued to be igno­rant, and of no experience. If he haue trauailed strange Countries, seene the courtes of foreine Princes, liued in their Pallaces, or serued in their warres, thereby the better to learne and obserue their maner, custome, discipline, and language, suspition shall attende vpon all his actions, the offer of his seruice suspected, and his shew of zealous fidelitie misconstrued. If he haue none of these ornamentes to set foorth him selfe withall, then shall he be (and not vn­worthely) deemed vncapable of employment in his Princes seruice. So miserable is his estate, who pursueth in Court, that his imperfections are hated, his vertues suspected, and either of both a like able to barre him from preferment.Nothing more rife in the court of Prin­ces, then ver­uous men, ho­norlesse and vnregarded.

And thus much assure your selfe, if my expe­rience (which what it is, my name declareth) be any whit to be eredited, that I haue not mar­ked any thing more rife in the courtes of Prin­ces (yea though them selues exceedingly ver­tuous) [Page 15] then vertuous men honorlesse and vnre­regarded, which happeneth not alwaies thorow their default, being by enuie & information of others mis-led, but rather by a malignitie of for­tune, which still striueth to depresse Vertue, or rather of a direct antipathie betweene them.

Sundry excellent Princes haue, by diuers their ingenious conceyts, made manifest, that the complaynt of olde decayed Courtiers a­gainst their ingratitude, is often times vniust, and not they, but the vnthriuing Courtiers for­tune to be blamed.

Besides we see, that the great and all-ruling King of the vniuersal pallace of this faire world, doth not, in the distribution of his temporall rewardes and punishments, alwayes respect the good or yll desertes of him, whom he ho­noreth with the one, or afflicteth with the other.

Seeing therefore the fauour and firme affec­tion of great men so hard to be obteined, and hopes of courtly aduancement so vncertaine, and depending vppon such long merits, that the small remainder of your life shall be tired out and ended, before you shall by long pain­full seruice be able to procure in your princes minde a full perswasion of your vertue, loialtie, and faith: If you will follow my counsell, leaue off the Court to men of great happinesse, and [Page] bende your minde wholly to the obteining of that celestial honor and preferment, which ne­uer faileth them that doe vnfeinedly secke it.

Let this then suffize as touching the Courtly life, whose philosophie being a point beyonde either morall or naturall: as the ioyes thereof are exceeding cheerefull & gladsome,The vertuous man desireth aduancement, onely thereby to be able to do his prince and countrie seruice. to those that are beautified with the rayes and sunshine of their princes fauour, so great must needes be the griefe and discomfort to those, whose vertues and industries are depressed, and they for lacke of due fauour and encouragement, made vnable to do their Prince and Country seruice; especi­ally, hauing wholly dedicated thereunto them selues, and the fruictes of their experience.

But hauing herein been somewhat long, I will briefly conclude with the rest of such pre­cepts, as in respect of your honor and welfare I charge you to obserue.

Seeke not to finde Feast or Pleasure in the wildernes of lost Time, for neuer did any yet in the highest degree possesse it, that did not in th'ende, with many losses, and greeuous paines, repent it. Apart your selfe therfore from thence, and while you haue leysure, vse vertuously the precious, but not long to be enioyed, iewell of Time.

Iustes, turneis, triumphes, wearing of Ladies [Page 16] liueries, and other the like, enterteined by greene and flourishing yeeres, take heede that by any meanes you imbrace not.

Take the better way, reseruing your bodyly strength, to the combat of those valorous Champions that attende you and your soule to your God and maker.

These my counsailes, I do aduise you to ob­serue, not so much in respect of my commande­ment; as of the hurt and damage that may en­sue vnto you in transgressing them. To which I constantly made answere, that I woulde assu­redly performe as much as I had promised, and he enioyned, especially seeing the not perfor­mance of them woulde turne to the greatest harme of my selfe.

Well, sayd he, I leaue it to your owne choyce and libertie, to do as best you liketh: but for the present, because it waxeth late, I woulde haue you directly to take your iorney towardes the barren desert of Olde Age, so playne and discoue­red a way by the course of Nature, that you can­not misse it; and there you shall assuredly finde, and perchance sooner then you expect, the ad­uenture you seeke: As for your Horse and ar­mour, I do frankly returne them vnto you a­gaine, with free libertie to depart; and withall, in token of my acquaintance, I will bestow vp­pon [Page] you this present (deliuering me therewith a fayre siluer Gorget of Mayle) the propertie of which is such,Age presents the author with a siluer Gorget of maile. that the longer you liue, the more shall it conforme the colour of your heare and beard in sutablenesse to the same. Which guift of his, when I had receiued, he tooke his leaue, putting his Courser to so swift a pace, that I did scarcely heare or see the moti­on of his feete. And as for me, I departed on my way, straight as a line, towardes the desart of Olde Age: in which sort, trauayling vpon the vt­most confines of Time, I came to a high Moun­taine, whose discent was a steepe and speedie Downefall, so that I was in much shorter space at the foote, then I had been in clyming to the height thereof. From thence, I galloped apace towardes the desart to which I was directed. But I had not long trauailed, when of a sodaine I was in a crosse way wanderingly lost, my me­morie distracted, and my minde vtterly forget­ful of al those good aduices lately deliuered me by Age, He entrethin­to the pathe of deceite. in so much, that I entred into a wrong path, called, Deceit, whose issue is neuer other then losse and repentance, though the going in, being a litle glazed ouer with a fayre dissembled shew of True pleasure, do beguile the eye of our iudgement.

Within it, was great verdure and freshnesse, [Page 17] and though the season of the yeere were faded and past, yet was the ground diuersified and en­amelled with an infinite varietie of sweete smel­ling flowers, so that it represented vnto my soone-yeelding senses, an extremitie of pleasure and delight: For Deceit, who in exterior shew suggesteth a worlde of pleasures, did now re­present vnto me all the delices, comfortes, and well sauouring ioyes, that euer in my youth I had tasted.

Then againe began I to acquaint my selfe with Carelesse vanitie, obliuious altogether of my former yeelding, and of my vowed promise and acquaintance with Age: I respected no­thing but the present pleasure of my senses, fin­ding my selfe, by a strange metamorphosis, freshly inueygled with that error, which I thought I had long agoe lost and left behinde me.

My passed pleasures of hauking, hunting, armes, loue, and Ladies, al returned with the ve­rie selfe same sweetenesse, and pleasing delight­fulnesse, as when they first possessed my gay, youthfull, and flourishyng yeeres. Withall, in came Vayne Conceit, buylding towers in the ayre, suggesting vnto me False courage, to vnder­take things vnpossible, and Credulous lightnesse, to beleeue things vtterly improbable, without [Page] reason or foundation.

My Horse went on amaine with a full carrere, fearing neither bridle nor bit, Plaines & Moun­taines were to him alike: as for me, he saw me such a stranger to my selfe, that he neither knew me, nor obeyed me.

And all this confused perturbation of my senses, was so cunningly contriued by Well co­loured Deceit, that quite forgetfull of my way, without finding any error at all in my steppes, I was led to the most sense-pleasing and delight­full place, that I coulde possibly haue imagined.

Within the same stoode a gorgious & stately royal pallace, whose exterior pompous and de­lectable shewe, made me verily perswade my­selfe, that neuer death, or any of his champions, could be able to approach vnto a place so beauti­full and delitious. The walles seemed to be of cleere refined siluer, the windowes of bright transparent christal, the pinacles of pure wel bur­nisht golde, that glistered like the Sun-beames, and the couerings and roofes of radiant Am­ber, whose goodly fayrenesse and splendor was such, that with amazement it dazeled the behol­ders eyes. Many beautifull Ladyes were at the windowes, richly adorned with pompous ha­bites, strange attires, rare deuices, and most allu­ring sweete behauiours. Many braue youthfull [Page 18] Gallants were among them, enterteining them with courtly gestures, and amorous well vtte­red speaches. There was besides, a most delici­ous musique of many well consorted Instru­ments; to which, some were listening, some daunsing, some discoursing: in fine, all was a­morous, and moouing vnto loue.

Deceipt was now become so quiet, and abso­lute a lorde and ruler of my fancie, that I ad­iudged my selfe most fortunate and happie, in being arriued at such a Paradice, so voyde of griefe, and so repleate with all sortes of plea­sures, as this seemed to be: Whereupon, going to the Porter, whose name was Abusion, I freend­lie intreated him,Abusion the porter of loues pallace. to tell me what myght be the name of this sumptuous edifice, wherein was assembled such a noble company of Gentlemen and Ladyes, with such magnificent varietie of pleasures and delightes: who briefly answered me,The pallace of Loue. that he was called the Pallace of Louc. At which very name of Loue, I started backe, as at a thing altogeather disproportionable to my yeeres and profession. When Desire, suggesting againe vnto my senses a worlde of delightes and pleasures, the more I withdrew my mynde, the more did enflame it forwarde. But straight, Remembrance stept in, recording vnto me the historie of things passed, and crying out aloude, [Page] that I committed periurie, and withall did for euer purchase mine owne ruine and perdition, shewing me therewith a cleere christall glasse, wherein, besides many of my passed matters, I saw Auncient Age noting vp all my steppes, as one that ment to call me in question for trans­gressing his counsells. And likewise I might therein perceiue my beard to be all mingled with siluer hayres, and my head to be ouercast with snow: The sight of which, did worke in me a marueilous amazement. Desire neuerthe­lesse, with many sweete allurementes, employed his greatest force to bring me vnder Loues sub­iection. But Remembrance did so liuely shew vnto me the yll agreeing deformitie thereof; perswading me, to let that passe, which was al­redie passed, rather then of new to harbour a­ny such troublesome tirannicall guest, within the weakned mansion of my aged senses: That howsoeuer vehemently swaied by Desiers temp­tations, yet when I had recalled my minde to ful consideration thereof, I thought good to apart me from his counsel, as beeing both dange­rous and dishonorable, fully resoluing, not to be at any time so ouertaken againe: so that all Desires endeuours prouing vaine, Remem­brance taking me by the hand, guided me from that counterfeit path of Deceit, into the true [Page 19] way of Goodaduice, with right direction where my iourney lay: And there I tooke my farewell of Loue, and withall of her, for whose sake (while I was Loues enthralled subiect) the paynes and tormentes I endured, seemed to be but pleasures and comfortes. Who so is desirous to know her, let him content him selfe with this much, that she is one, whom Nature hath more richly beautified with grace, comlinesse, and perfecti­on, then my worthlesse and vneloquent penne can any way expresse. But the Euer-liuing righ­teousnesse, whose wisedome is infinite, and whose iudgement impenetrable, knowing the ende of my pretences, was pleased to assist me with his gracious goodnesse, so that I went on the right way, to accomplish my faith and promise, which I had geuen vnto Age: and such was the haste I made to be at my iourneys end, that I found my selfe arriued in the Countrey of Feeble olde Age, The desert of olde Age. before I my selfe knew how. There the earth trembled▪ and euery thing seemed to be a quag­mire. The ayre was darke and mistie, the smelles noysome, the grounde barren, yeelding mise­ries in steede of fruite, and the rentes that there were gathered, was griefe and anguish.

There groweth not any tree, that beareth ei­ther fruite or flower; all is full of barren briers, and withered thornes. There is not any meate [Page] of good taste, nor herbe yeelding iuise: in fine, it is a destroyed parte, dry, fruitlesse, and con­sumed: in the which, there is not any nouriture, or verie litle, and that, mingled with care and sorow. The fountaines there are of sufferance, & the brokes of bitternesse. The Moones bright­nesse, and the Sunnes glistering, is there obscu­red with darkenesse and fogs. The sweetest songs accustomably vsed in this barren desert, are sorowfull complaintes of time misspent, and for good things passed, that can not be reco­uered. The longer a man lingreth there, the lesse repose he findeth: euerie thing yeeldeth griefe, and Infirmitie is there enthronized as princesse, and regent of the whole territorie. Health hath no entrie, but is thence perpetually bani­shed: comfortable mirth appeareth not, being suppressed by fretting Melancholy, one of the cheefest Lordes of this desert.

A small iourney from thence,The Ilande of Decrepitude. lieth an Iland of diseased infirmitie, whose proper name is De­crepitude, where health died, making griefe and sorow his executors, bequeathing vnto them all his rightes and possessions. I haue not as yet bin there, but I am comen so neere, that the ve­rie ayre thereof maketh al the ioyntes and mem­bers of my body to shake and tremble: Iudge then what effect it will worke in him, that shal­be [Page 20] therein landed and ariued?

Thence, being once entred, there is no de­parting, till the soule doe free it selfe from out the encombred bodies prison, aspiring to a bet­ter habitation.

But which of all is strangest, such is the mi­raculous working and vigor thereof, that from the extremitie of Olde Age, it constreineth men againe to returne vnto the verie extremities of Childehood; then the which, what wonder can be greater. Feeblenesse is there so strong, that it taketh from Strength, absolutely his beeing.

The eyes brightnesse, being of mans life the chiefest comfort, is there in such sort turned to obscuritie and dimnesse, that it scarcely seeth any thing at al: and yet that litle is in such imper­fect dazeling maner, that all the things discer­ned, seeme to be but images of death.

No benefit is so great that it can yeeld sound­nesse of health or comfort, and euerie litle euill is so efficient, that it easily becommeth mortall: each litle griefe offendeth deadly without resi­stance, as in a rendred ouerthrowen Countrey, where life hath nothing, but onely the name and apparance.

I know this Decrepite estate to be a thing feare­full vnto fleshe: yet surely it is a great benefite of God, by whose goodnesse the vertuous and pa­tient [Page] bearing thereof, may be a great meane to our saluation, which of his endlesse mercie, I beseech him, that we may all obteine.

But to come backe to my discourse, being once in this vnpleasant desert of Olde Age, I coulde not finde any path, gate, way, or issue, to get out, vnlesse I woulde enter into that of De­crepitude, and therefore I enterteined my selfe, the best that I could, in that health lesse prouince: in which, after I had a litle romed vp and downe, I espied sundry people both men and women,Sundry abu­sers of Age, & deceyuers of them selues. that did busie them selues in the practise of strange and cosening sleightes: some to hide and dissemble their yeeres, filled vp the wrinkled furrowes of their face with payntinges, some died their heades and beards with waters of their owne mingling, some pulled quite out the gray heares that appeared in them, thinking so to rid them selues of those hatefull messengers of decaying life. But Olde Age, would not con­sent vnto such falsenesse, protesting against them, that they laboured in vayne, for there is no possibilitie of turning backe one iot from that degree of his acquaintance, and subiection whereto they are once arriued. Being once wi­thered and decayed with Age, to florishe and waxe greene againe, is not graunted to any mor­tal creature. The ende of such deuices and ende­uours, [Page 21] tendeth in fine to nothing, but to filling of the Churchyardes.

But leauing this discourse, because it breedeth melancholie. Olde Age, as I tell you, had so en­tangled me, that though I woulde feine haue gotten out of his iurisdiction, yet coulde I not by any meanes finde any way or passage, which at the first mooued me to be very heauie and sorowfull, and that the rather, because I saw my youth vnrecouerable, and my griefe remedilesse. But euen as the poore seely birde, newly inclo­sed within the prison of his Cage, doth for a time at the first, sullenly lament the losse of his abridged libertie, till at last, seeing the booteles­nesse of his sorow, he beginneth to comfort him selfe, with thinking of his sweete for passed pleasures, as of the delightfull trees, and sweetely smelling bryers, wherein he had harboured the pleasant chirping of his litle louely companions with whom he had conuersed, and such his other recreations and pastimes, whilest he en­ioyed the freedome of the fieldes, and euen with those thoughts of comfort, forgetteth his me­lancholy, and falleth sweetely a singing: so fa­reth it with me, who, though my present estate mooued me to heauinesse and sorow, yet consi­dering the necessitie thereof, and with all my many passed youthfull pleasures, I framed my [Page] minde to a contentment, and so began to tra­uayle and searche each part and coast of the countrie through, to see yf I coulde finde any part or corner therof, exempted from the gene­rall barrennesse of the rest, to th'ende, I myght there passe away my time with lesse griefe.

Hauing trauayled awhile, I happened of a so­dayne to espie therein a place, so full of goodli­nesse and riches, that I could not refraine from wonder in beholding it. Within the same was a lodging of inestimable worth called Good aduen­ture. Good Ad­uenture.

Then first began I to perceyue the false­nesse of the worldes common opinion, which is, that there is not in Olde age any pleasure: where­as surely there is a thing called Studie, in whose vertuous exercise a vicelesse Youth passed ouer, doth manifest the contrary.

But you must vnderstand,I take it, that by this studie he meaneth Contempla­tion. that I meane not the fond studie of vaine worldly trifles, but ra­ther that which teacheth vs to scorne and con­temne the brickle (and howsoeuer faire guil­ded) yet soone defaced alurementes of this world, and so to liue and die, that our soule once freed from the mortall bandes of our heere-soone perishing body, may through the merits of our Sauiour, attaine to euerlasting blessednesse and rest.

[Page 22] This I speake of, consisteth in fruitfully rea­ding the sacred volume of the holy Scriptures, & the precious workes of those godly Doctors & Fathers, whose blessed pennes haue diuinely prescribed vnto vs, the way of perfect repen­tance, and vertuous perfection, teaching vs no­thing but that, which still we ought to contem­plate with the eyes of our mynde; that is, to lyue and die well. For there is not any thing vnder heauen so happelesse, heauie, and misera­ble, as for a soule sleeping carelesly in sinne, to approch the dolorous passage of Death. Of this desirable place I speake off, the walles were all round about trimmed with Delight. The Pallace of contempla­tion. The Portal at which you entred, figured foorth nothing but Pleasure. The Dytches were secure, deepe, and well trenched, curiously wrought in great conformitie by Good exercise. The Chappel was of Zeale, the Windowes of Charitable Loue, the Gate, wherein was the entrance and going foorth, of Heedefulnesse, and the Bridge of In­dustrious Trauaile. The Vanes and Streamers of the house were of Pleasure, which glystering aloft, shewed all the passers by, that there was the schoole and practise of Vertue and Learning. No Idlenesse dared to approch this blessed Man­sion: for Diligence was the Porter. Onely Emu­lation is suffered to enter, who there serueth as a [Page] spurre to Vertuous operation.

In fine, the time there bestowed, is in the one­ly learning and exercise of that heauenly philo­sophie, whereto whosoeuer arriueth, may well be accounted happie and blessed.

That I was desirous to enter into this blis­full place, no man needeth to doubt: but in the end, seeing the gates did not of themselues open vnto me, I was bould to goe vnto the porter, with earnest entreatie, that I might, by his fa­uour & meanes, be suffered to enter. To which he answered: this house, said he, which is the very Perfection of studie and enemy of ignorance, is not to be dallied withall, or to be entred with sportfulnesse and scorne. For within it is en­closed the Treasure of life, and the Riches of the Worldes wisedome: it is kept and gouerned by a beautifull Princesse, whom it hath pleased the highest to blesse with a Happy euer-during youth: shee neuer changeth estate, liuing free from deaths subiection: her proper name is Memo­rie, Memorie Ladie of the pallace, of Contemplation of all the worlde highly honored and estee­med. From her are deriued all the chiefe plea­sures wherewith Olde age is honored, whom through wisedome and experience shee enno­bleth with regard and worship.

Where shee is enterteined, shee neuer bree­deth weerinesse, making him blessed with [Page 23] whom shee pleaseth to harbour. Some there are, whom shee flieth, though they labour ne­uer so earnestly to be acquainted with her: for in her operations, is so great & strange a secret of nature, that neither Socrates, nor Plato, noral the deepe pearcing wits of the passed Philosophers, haue bin able to define whence, or how this corruptible body of ours, is beautified with so pure and excellent an ornament, as this of Me­morie. But for my part, I do verily beleeue, without any doubt or question, that this be­ing so singular a good, procedeth onely from the miraculous working of God, and not from any setled habite or ingrafted guift of nature: for as the soule hath by God her habitation & do­micile appointed her in the body, so hath Me­morie hers in the soule it selfe, whence she spring­eth,Memorie, is a thing celestiall and diuine, deriued onely from God, without ha­uing any rela­tion to nature. vsing her qualities and operations. And see­ing the soule is an inuisible peculiar frame and workmanship of God, as a sparke of his diui­nitie: It foloweth then also, that my Ladie and Mistresse, must needes be a seuered work of God alone, without hauing any relation to Nature. [...] Her excellence, nobilitie, and byrth, consi­dered, and withall, the notable comforts, and sweete sauouring vertues that she in her selfe conteyneth, she hath euer bin of all wise men honored in high degree, as one of the chiefest [Page] beauties and ornaments of lyfe.

Since I first came acquainted with her ser­uice, I haue bin in stead of her seruant, as it were her gardian:Diligence the porter of Me­morie. My name is Diligence, and I con­tinually accompanie her, in respect of the vehe­ment loue I beare vnto vertuous studie, whose true perfection without her helpe is not to be obteyned. The onely way to see her perfectly, is through Vertuous industrie, first by exercising our mindes to learne and know, and then fastly to reteine that which we haue once learned and knowen.

But because I see you are arriued to this vn­comfortable soyle of Olde Age, taking compas­sion of your weakened forces, I will accomplish your desire, hoping somewhat therewith to re­fresh and comfort the languishing of your spi­rites.

Whereupon being by this industrious Por­ter brought to the presence of Memorie, I was of her saluted with a most pleasing and gentle behauiour.

Her attire was sumptuous and rich,The attyre of Memorie. embro­dered in meruailous art by Cogitation rounde about, strangely presenting vnto my view, a large course and historie of Time, both past and present. And withall, the more to subtilize my remembrance, she made me smell to a Garlande [Page 24] of Knowledge, which she ware, whose excellent and delicious odour, did so refresh the vigour of my senses, that me thought I was not halfe so earthly as before.

After some few conferences, I requested her to fauour me with the sight of her librarie, which I imagined could not be but rare & magnificent. But she briefly answered me, that whosoeuer de­termined to studie there, may not vse any other bookes or lessons, then such as Remembrance yeeldeth him: for it were labour lost, and meere vanitie, for old men to begin first then to studie. Their exercise ought rather to be in well kee­ping and reteyning that, which before time they had seene and learned, and therewith in she­wing the fruites of their wysedome to recre­ate them selues, and to counsell others.

But now tell me, sayd she, what is the thing that you do demaunde of me, & you shall finde me redy to yeelde you satisfaction?

Being comforted with her courteous and gentle language, I did without delay acquaint her with the circumstances of my aduenturous enquest, telling her, how that my thought-ful­nesse had instantly mooued me to visite the forest of Atropos: which voyage I had now re­solued, and withall, to enter in single combat with eyther of the two famous Champions, [Page] Debilitie or Accident, to whose garde the place is committed, beseeching her earnestly to tell me, if she had heard, read, or founde, in any ancient bookes, writinges, or recordes, hidden figures, or long remembrance of times, that any of these Champions had bin put to the foyle, by any of those worthy men that at sundry ages haue liued so puissant and conquering in their times: For yf any one had at any time, or in any age vanquished them, I woulde not doubt, but by Gods assistance, to goe as farre, as he that had gon farthest. But in fine, howsoeuer the matter shoulde goe, I tolde her, that I was resolued to winne eyther glorie with my sworde, or with my body death.

Memorie, hauing with attention heard my speaches: I will not, sayd she smilingly, enter­teine you with long discourses, but geuing you the best aduise I may, let you with your eyes beholde the certaine euent of this most dange­rous enterprise, in which you are engaged. And opening therewith a Posterne gate, she placed me in a great immense and spatious playne, called the Vniuersal Sepulcher of mankind, The vniuersal sepulchre of mankinde, open and discouered on euery side, without eyther Rocke or Mountaine, so that there was no limit nor restraint to the eye, but that it might boldly and frankly throw his view so farre, as [Page 52] the sharpenesse thereof coulde pearce or dis­cerne: and as the playne was infinite, so was the number of Graues & Monumentes: vpon most of the which of those of the right side, were Epitaphes, and famous Figures of the name and being of humane creatures, whom Death had swallowed and deuoured.

Marke now there, sayd she, yf you can, and note vp the number of those enterred bodies, who sometimes florished with such applause of the worlde in great pompe & honorable estate. But yf your wittes be not able to comprehende them, nor no wysedome, learning, or retentiue, able to register them, then rest assured, that the force of your aduersaries are mightie, and to be feared: for they are all the spoyles of Debilitie and Accident. The Church­yarde of Me­morie. See there the Churchyarde of Memorie, wherein you shall finde buried al those whose names are in the sacred historie of the Bible mentioned (Enoch and Elyas only excep­ted, of whom it pleased the heauenly wisedome otherwyse to dispose.) There shall you finde all those, whose names Homers heroicall verse, or Liuies maiesticall prose, hath made glorious to the worlde. Those that Valerius and Orosius spake off, lie here all in a reckoning. Olde, young, rich, poore, fayre and foule, lie heere altogeather encoffined. The great warriours of Babylon, the [Page] learned Philosophers of Athens, the vanqui­shing Graecians, and the ouercome Troyans, the Amazonian Viragos, and the Romane Matrons, being summoned by DEATH, haue all accom­plished her commandement, & heere their car­kases do rest.

I saw there, of Queenes and Princesses, La­dyes and Gentlewomen, of high degree, such a number, that it passed imagination: of which, though some had bin glorified with regall dia­demes, some shined with admirable beautie, some adorned with infinite wysedome and in­comparable vertue, yet had no one of them all bin able to defende her selfe against the Neuer­missing Dart of Liues enemie.

There were Popes and parish Clarkes, Car­dinals and Carters,All degrees alike to death. Bishops and Beggers, Patri­arkes and Pedlers, though before time in degree vnequall,Mors sceptra ligonibus aequat. yet now to the woormes alike, who found no difference in their flesh. Their bones, being confusedly put togeather, of such likenes, that one was not to be knowen from another. Emperours and slaues, Kinges and Ploughmen, Lordes and vacabondes, Law-giuers & Louts, were there all vnder Deaths clapnet. None of them escaped, nor euer shall thence bring newes to the worlde, of the good or euyll entertein­ment he there receiued. Retyred Virgins, new [Page 26] professed Nunnes, and aged Abbesses, vertuous Matrones, and wanton Curtizanes, all had there yeelded vp their lyues to Deaths commande­ment.

In fine, such was the infinitnesse of the num­ber, that my eyes were weeried with viewing, and my spirits dulled with meditating vpon them.

Of all those whose carkases I there behelde, I woulde gladliest, yf I knew which way, en­treate of those of this present age of ours. But though it shoulde please God to graunt vnto me the lyfe of Mathusalaem, and I shoulde in all that time do nothing els but write, yet should I want space to reckon vp the number of the dead inhabitantes, that this playne possessed. Cruell Accident woundeth, Debilitie ouerthroweth, and Atropos in her forest geueth them free campe, and there all humane creatures do ende their lyues. For so victorious is the violent hand of Consuming Death, that whatsoeuer Na­ture buyldeth and maketh, he breaketh and dis­solueth; and from this lot, no mortall creature is free.

Herewith Memorie seeing me at these tragical sightes oppressed with exceeding sadnesse, with a chearefull countenance bad me not be dis­mayed: For, Feare, quoth she, befitteth not a no­ble [Page] minde: but yf you will folow my aduise,Feare befit­teth not a no­ble minde. take with you a magnanimious resolution, to die constantly, and with patience, and so to or­der your soule, that it may not be subiect to a seconde death, but rather be receyued into that euerlasting ioy, where it shall liue eternally in glorious rest. And therewith leading me into an inner mansion, and enterteining me still with good and vertuous counsell, I tolde her, that though my cause of Feare were greater then any hope of Comfort, yet in fine, come what woulde, I was resolued to proue the vna­uoydable aduenture, let lyfe or death ensue, as vnto the diuine Almightinesse should be most pleasing. Of which my so resolued courage, she did conceiue such liking, that she offered her selfe to be my guyde; which I thankfully accep­ted, and without delay, she tooke her Palfrie, and bad me follow her.

Such was the speede we made, that of a so­daine, before I was well aware, we were arriued neere the fatall place, where the cruell dreadfull combat, to which I hasted, was to be ended and determined.

At our verie arriuall, I heard a great noyse and clattering of men and armour, as though it had bin of some well fought Turney, or warlike iusting: but the sounde thereof seemed rather [Page 27] plaintfull and discomfortable, then signifiyng any pleasant triumph.

Approching neerer, I might see certaine great letters of Golde,Letters of gold engrauen in afaire table at the entry of the forest of Atropos. ingraued in a fayre regi­ster or table of Stone, conteyning these follo­wing wordes. Heere all vayne worldly deuises, and the life of all humane Creatures maketh an ende. This is the dolorous passage, where the strength, beautie, wysedome, puissance, and valour of mankinde is vanquished and ouerthrowen. Atropos is Ladie of this place, who maintey­neth heere in garrizons two mightie Champi­ons, whose incomparable valour hath bereaued of lyfe all those that euer liued in the worlde heretofore, and shall do the like with those that liue at this present. Accident commonly be­ginneth the fight, against whose sundry strata­gems, and strange kindes of fight, no worldly strength preuayleth: but yf at any time he chaunce to misse, then commeth the Prince of sorow, called Debilitie, whose heauie comfort­lesse blow, no Armour of proofe withstandeth: So that heere in fine all humane flesh endeth, leauing to the worlde their possessions, vani­ties, pursuites, and fonde desires, wherein while they lyued they did set such pleasure, flattering them selues with a foolish conceipt of longer enioying them.

[Page] But hearing a great rumor & noyse within the Steccada, I stayed no longer heere, but got me to the listes, where I found a great number of people assembled to beholde a strange & dread­full combat, that was there to be tryed, so that there was a great whispering and confused noyse of voyces.

Atropos beholding all,The maner and attyre of Atropos. sate aloft in a stately skaffolde, queintly clothed with a garment em­brodered rounde about with Putrified earth and Wormes. Her gesture full of Ire and threatning, and in her hande a Death-bringing Dart, with which she first defieth them that least thinke of it: Cruelty is the marshall of her field. Her K. at armes, Wilfulnesse: his coate armour of Vnre­spect: her chauncelor, Instability: and his diuine, Let no man trust.

The lystes are of Sorowes, enclosed with Hea­uinesse: her pauilion of Clamours, her banners and streamers there wauing, all of Plaints and Wailings, her neerest attendants, are Bitternesse, Despite, and Villanie.

On the defendants side was his pauilion, em­brodered round about with Heroicall bounty & High valour, and beautified with infinite strea­ming banerolls and flags of Honor: his King at armes was Welbeloued: the paynting of his baw­dricke and coate armour, was all garnished with [Page 28] Vertuous prowesse, & crowned with True Nobili­ty. Wilfulnesse in his Ladies name proclamed Si­lence, cōmanding vpon peine of great penalties, that none should with any good or euill signe, or with any other meanes, assist either of the combatters, And after proclamation, seeing ge­nerall silence, commaunded the champions to begin the fight, and to shew their force.Debilitie en­treth the listes Debilitie first entred, bringing with him two mightie & sharply steeled weapons, the one of Persecution, the other of a Remedilesse consumption. His vpper garment or coate-armour had figured in it the Carkas of a dead Man, miserably pined away, bare, and without flesh, hanging only togea­ther by the bones, yeelding a sight full of ghastfulnesse and horror: On the other side came foorth a most honorable Defendant, beau­tified with the glorious armes of Burgundie: Honour both wayted vpon him and was his guyde. This was the most excellent Prince of great and famous memorie, so highly for his vertues honored and loued.Philip, surna­med the good: Duke of Bur­gundie. Philip of Burgundie, of all our Westerne worlde the greatest Duke: his right hande was armed with a Lance of Stayed aduice. The fayre enameled bosse of his guylded Target, represented the Great prayse, the many Freendes, and powerfull dominions, that he possessed. Nothing was about him, but wit­nessed [Page] Trueth, Bounty, Constancie, and Courage: And finally, his Mace was of Firmenesse against all aduersities.

Debilitie was neuer at any time fuller of feare, then now, at the constant behauiour of this gal­lant enemie, and therefore threw at him a farre off a dart, headed with so Manie troubles, that it had bin able to haue daunted and ouerthro­wen the greatest courage liuing. But the gentle Duke opposed him selfe with so Quiet & Vnble­mished a minde, that it made in him no breach at all; rather did he with his Lance, of whose tem­per I tolde you before, geue his enemie so ver­tuous an encounter, that he made him to stagger.

Each of them shewed the vttermost of his valour, striuing in this hard and cruel combat whether of them should be superior.

Debilitie let flie at the Duke with his Pollax of Persecution: the Duke betoke him selfe to his Mace of Firmenesse, and so auoyded the blow. So that as the fight was fierce and vehement, so was it in a maner doubtfull betweene them. Memorie seemed to hope, that the Duke should escape victorious: But the Destinies were against it, and the Eternall ordinance of the Almightie: For in the ende, Debilitie thrust the noble Duke into the Lungs with a deadly Consumption, assayling him besides with many a fierce blow [Page 29] of other infirmities, so that though he were him selfe exceedingly weeried and foyled, yet farre greater was the Defendants extremitie: of whom, to make a finall ende, gathering togea­ther all his force, he strake with so violent a Ca­tarre, that downe fell the magnanimous Duke breathlesse, and with him the glorie of our age.

Atropos in so heauie a case (all the hartes of the beholders els throbbing, and their eyes wee­ping) made no other reckoning, then as it were a Maygame, ful of laughter and scorne, no whit at all respecting his great honor, estate, and alli­ance, nor the worldes generall sorow for the losse of so excellent a Prince.

The Heralds at armes laide ouer the dead bo­die a rich embrodered Herse, garnished rounde about with workes of Glorie, and thence con­ueyed the same vnto the noble Mansion of Me­morie: where, with sacred Obits, and sumptuous Funeralls, it was most solemnly enterred: as for his blessed soule, I trust in Gods mercie, that it is now glorified with celestiall ioyes, free from hauing hence foorth any more to do eyther with Debilitie, or Accident.

Scarce were these mournefull Obsequies en­ded,Accedent pre­senteth him selfe armed. when we might heare a new rumor and noyse of two freshly arriued Champions. The first was Accident, who in terrible gesture pre­sented [Page] himselfe armed and fierce on horsebacke in the fielde. His Horse was caparasoned with Arrogance neuer tempered, his Lance of Vnhappi­nesse, his Harnesse of Ire, his Sword, with which he hath ouerthrowen millions of men, of Ouer­weening boldnesse, and his Mace, with which he vsually ouerturns those that are in best liking with themselues, of Fortune.

Out comes against him, like Mars or Hercules enraged,Charles Duke of Burgundie surnamed the hardie. great Charles of Burgundie, the most fea­red, & aduenturous Prince that liued in his age, who alwayes made Reason attende vpon his Wil, (which yet neuer was vnuertuous, though to him selfe some times domageable.) His Cour­ser was Fiersenesse, euerie peece of his Armour tempered in True courage, his Lance of High endeuour, his Sworde of Mindes greatnesse, and his Dagger of Incredible munificense; And surely, yf we will rightly iudge of this worthy Prince, there was not any vertue that he had not in per­fection, neither was there any vice, with which the nobilitie of his minde was spotted, vnlesse selfewill, and ouer-greatnesse of courage, be to be called vice.

Where this feelde was fought, was neither tent nor pauilion, but only shrubbes & brushes. The encounter began with great clashing and noyse of armour. Great was the furie of either [Page 30] Champion, and great the fiersenesse of their first onset, either of them deadly and despitefully de­siring the destruction of the other.

Accident like a tempest or whirlewinde,The Duke three times ouerthrowen by the D. of Lorayne and Swyssers, and lastly slaine at the battaile of Naneie in the yeere. 1476. with such vnresistable puissance so encountred the Duke three times, that he ouerthrew him to the ground, and yet vndid him not; for still in his greatest disgrace, vndismayed, he made head againe, with greater and more reuengefull reso­lution then before. Yet such was the hurt of these vnfortunate encounters, that not only the Duke, but his whole house, estate, & countrey, was thereby greatly weakoned.

But now was the fight growen to that heate of furie betweene them,Campobache an Italian Counte, chiefe leader of the D. horse, and of especial cre­dite about him, had a­greed with the D. of Loraine to betray his maister, which most Iudas-lyke he perfor­med at this battell before Nancie. that it amazed the be­holders. The Duke being full of magnani­mous wrath, & resolued to die, or to be victori­ous, spared no meanes or wayes he might to greeue his aduersarie, who strake him a mightie blow with his Pollax of Conspiracie, geuen him by Fortune, therewith to ende the lyfe of him, whom manly and equall vertue neuer coulde haue vanquished: Yet still the fearelesse Duke mainteined valiantly the place, though Fortune, and all the worlde els, had forsaken him, till at last, Accident with vnworthy handes, doubling a downright blow vpon him, bare him, for whom the earth while he liued was too [Page] litle, slaine and sencelesse to the earth: who as all his life time he had bin great and incompara­ble, so was his valorous ending, euen to his hate­fullest enemies, admirable. God I hope of his infinite goodnesse, will there graunt rest and quietnesse to his soule, which heere his body so much abhorred.

If warre be to be praised as an honorable ex­ercise, then great ought your sorow to be, ò souldiors, for the losse of such a prince, whose like in that profession neuer liued any: yet not­withstanding al this incomparable losse, it doth not a little comfort me, in that it is to the whole worlde notorious, that he was not ouercome by any that were worthy of such a conquest, but onely through the diuine power & permission, by which fortune holdeth in her handes, and handleth at her pleasure, all humane woorkes.

For the sentence, permission, decree, and se­cret iudgment of the heauens, farre exceedeth our science, deceyueth our knowledge, and maketh vaine our wisedome.

If a man liue in this world fortunately,The vayne instabilitie of the worldes iudgemne. and possesse what so his hart desireth, then the com­mon opinion is, that he is an happy man, & was borne in a good houre: but if by aduerse fortune he afterwardes chaunce to become poore, and afflicted with aduersities, miseries, or losse of [Page 31] honor, then euery one crieth out, that he is vn­happy, & that it is pitie that euer he was borne.

To auoyde therefore these inconueniences, and vncertainties of the worlde,The surest anker is to trust onely in God. let euery mor­tall creature turne him selfe with a pure and pe­nitent minde vnto the eternall creatour of all things, to whom both heauen and earth are obedient, and then shall he be assured, that there shalbe no errour in his course; neither, being ankered vppon so sure a rocke, shall he neede to depende on the vaine fleeting blastes of worldly so soone deceyued opinions.

In fine, though Accident victoriously trium­phed ouer this famous Prince, yet neuer in any age shall the glorie and valorous endeuours of great Charles be forgotten, whose vncompa­rable valour and magnanimitie, all nations and histories haue beautified with the surname of Hardie.

But now, though with tearefull eyes, yet shal my penne proceede and leaue the wofull storie of this worthy Duke vnto some happier writer, whose muse may be glorified with so great a subiect. Accident presently thirsting after a new pray, put on his armour of deepe-pirceing Dis­paire, and with a sharp grounded Iauelin of Misfortune, leapt out into the high way, putting to his side a Sword of Sodaine griefe, which only [Page] hath shortened the life of many worldly crea­tures: but to make the matter more speedy, his Dagger was of Secret melancholy, which being ioyned to Sickenesse, were able to consume a marble.

With this there began a musique so well ac­corded, so variable, sweete, and delicious, that it rauished with delight the hearers. To-wardes the which, as the people ioyfully flocked, to know whence, or from what cause the same did proceede, they might beholde a Litter that ap­proched, supported by two milke-white Vni­cornes, of which the one was Perfect bountie, and the other Sweete demeanour. The riches, orna­ment, and sumptuousnesse of this Litter, was such, that it exceeded all estimation. The Vni­cornes were guyded by foure Princes: the first, good Fame, the seconde, Flower of Youth, the thirde, Noblenesse of Hart, and the fourth, Disdayne against villanie, and all foure linked togeather by Reason.

Straight folowed a great troupe of Caual­lerie, and withal a companie of so choyce, fayre, and beautifull Ladies, as though each one had bin selected and chosen out of the greatest Courtes of the worlde.

But now it is time to say somewhat of that royall personage that came within this sump­tuous [Page 32] Litter, though to touch rightly her per­fections, be farre beyond the compasse of mine, or any mortall penne.

It was a glorious young Princesse, armed at all peeces, and resolued there in that passage, to shew her power where she had receyued her griefe. In her seeming one woulde haue dee­med her to be a very Penthesilea, that came to re­uenge the death of Troyan Hector. But cruell and vnhappie Destinie, had conspired her ouer­throw.

Her Harnesse was of Contentment, her head was armed with Vertuous Thought, therwith the better to defende her selfe in this dangerous conflict. Her Sworde was Desire to do well, sharpe and well poynted, wherewith she came deter­mined to reuenge the wronges that had bin of­fered her: Her Dart was of Debonairnesse, and her Shielde of Faythfull vnspotted Loue, neuer to be altered.Mary, onely daughter and heire to Char­les D. of bur­gundy, and wise to the Archduke Maximilian who was af­terwardes Emperour. Her vpper garment was wrought, and rounde about adorned with thousandes of vertues, who finding her pure soule free from all euilles, had therein made their quiet and blessed mansion.

This excellent Ladie, as Loyaltie her Heralde at armes in loude speeches proclaymed, was Marie, the great and puissant Archduchesse of Austria, worthie of the worldes gouernment. [Page] Accident stoode all this while trembling, to see so imcomparable a beautie, ioyned with so ver­tuous a courage, woondring that those many excellent rare partes and vertues, shoulde be all so viuely vnited in a young Princesse of three and twentie yeeres, whereas they are rare and scarce to be founde in the many setled yeeres of longer ages. But Furie, his trustie Counsayler, seeing his amazement, bade him be of good courage, for the victorie shoulde assuredly be his, if so be he would folow his counsell: which was, that he shoulde not assay her with any o­ther weapon or stroke, then onely of a deepe Hart-Sorow, which the gentle temper of her wel framed minde not enduring, he was assured, would soone ouerthrow her.

Accident folowed his aduise, and ashamed of his former fayntnesse, with a cruell Vnkind­nesse, gaue her so deepe a Sorowes-wounde, and thereupon a feruent Ague, that the gentle Prin­cesse loosing by degrees the perfection of her beauties, though she apposed her vertues in re­sistance, was finally vanquished and taken out of this vnworthy worlde, in prime of her yeeres and beautie; leauing behinde to vs, nothing but griefe, heauinesse, and compassion, though God wot, bootelesse sorow, and weeping teares, be of small effect and moment, to equall so [Page 33] great an occasion.

Thus now hath cruell Accident taken from vs our rarest iewell, that precious Palladium, which while Burgundie enioyed, it reigned in all pros­peritie and happinesse: But now alas, the name of that noble house is finished, and Death hath taken away this excellent Lady, whose glorie shall yet liue heere eternally, and her soule there I hope in endelesse blisse.

This was shee that refreshed our langui­shing spirites, and comforted our former dis­tresfull calamities, as Troilus did, who with ver­tue and courage bare vppon his shoulders the burden of besieged Troy, when Hector fay­led. And if heauen would haue graunted vs so much happinesse, as to haue left vs onely her aliue, we should haue bin able to haue suffered and endured whatsoeuer els could haue hap­ned. But what I might thinke, and what griefe might be mine, let the compasionate Reader iudge, seeing in so short a space, three Princes dead, whom I serued, and had such cause to loue and honour. I was brought vp young, and nou­rished in their court. They were alwayes my shelters against all tempestes, stormes, and ad­uersities: But alas, there is none now lefte to shelter me from sorow.

But returning to my discourse, at the ende [Page] of the combat, when I had seene the death of these three my so dearly honored soueraignes, my eyes being drowned with teares, and my soule with sorow, vnwilling to ouer-liue so great a desastre, I pulled downe my beuer, and dreadlesse and carelesse what might happen, nor looking nor fearing who came against me, I rushed into the listes, defying my aduersaries, to come both, or one, or how they listed, or dared. Memorie seeing me thus altred, feared least I had bin troubled with some passion of Despaire, The Author offereth com­bat to the champion of Atropos. and therefore willed me to recom­mende my selfe vnto God; which I did, and constantly attended the comming of my aduer­saries. But by and by came vnto me a felow like a Heralde, of litle stature, with a blazon of pro­longation, his name was, Sommons. Great Atro­pos, saith he,The messen­ger or poursui­uant of A­tropos called Sommons. that heere gouerneth, hath com­maunded me to tell thee, that thy houre is not yet come, and therefore willeth thee to stay, till thou be called; which shall not be long first. In the meane time rest contented, for there are now many other combats to be determined of greater worth, and among the rest, especi­ally of fiue famous aduenturers:The combats of fiue famous aduenturers. whose names and particularities, I desiring him to recount vnto me, though, sayd he, some of these be things to come, and the secretes of the desti­nies [Page 34] are not to be reuealed, yet for this once I will satisfie thy request.

Know then, that these fiue dismall conflictes I speake off heere to be tryed, are such, that the onely thinking of them breedeth an astonish­ing terrour both to Atropos and her Champi­ons; who hearing of the victorious conquestes that are, and shalbe, by these excellent aduentu­rers atchiued, are fore-possessed with an incre­dible feare and amazement. I will therefore tell thee first, what each of the aduenturers is, and then how prepared and armed they will come to this the last combat that euer they shall make. And do not thinke that I do fable with thee, in telling thee of things to come: for I doe certeinly assure thee, that the euent shalbe as I doe tell thee: for Atropos is well ac­quainted with the Destinies, who haue discoue­red the whole vnto her. But because it greeueth me exceedingly to see thee so sorowful and sad, I would yeeld willingly some comfort to thy perplexed minde. And this assure thy selfe, the heauens doe neuer denie consolation to the comfortlesse and distressed. As for the three ended princes, whose vntimely deaths haue brought thee to such excessiue and immoderate sorow, and these other, with the particularitie of whose combats I haue promised to acquaint [Page] thee, they shall leaue behind them such and so noble a succession, that their losse shalbe to the whole worlde restored. But especially the great English Monarch, Sommons doth reueale vnto the Au­thor the Se­crets of the Destinies, wonderfully among the rest foretelling the greatnesse of Queene Eli­zabeths glorie who among the rest of his royal issue, shal leaue one so excellent a daughter, & so highly of the heauens blessed, that besides the glorifying of the frozen poles, and the fiery equinoctials with the trophes of her inuincible armes, such shalbe the worldes wonder, and ad­miration of her vertue, that the greatest kings, princes, and estates of the worlde, shall thinke it the greatest happinesse that may befall them, to be shrowded vnder the faire spreading wings of her Imperious gouernment, some of them falling downe at her sacred feete, and flying in­to her realme for refuge, as to an vnblemished Azyle and inuiolable sanctuarie.

But now to enterteine thee no longer with circumstances,The Lady Isabell sister to Henrie the 4. of Castile, and wife to Ferdinand of Aragon, gran­mother to Charles the fifth. know that the first which in these listes is by Atropos so fearefully expected, is the great and mighty princes Dōna Isabella Queene and enheritrix of Castile: Her am I ere long time ouerpasse to sommon to the aduenture of this passage, to which as euery mortall creature is sub­iect, so shall shee not be disobedient, but pre­sently come into the field armed and accompa­nied as followeth.

Shee shalbe mounted vppon a triumphall, [Page 35] Chariot, accompanied with innumerable ver­tues, contending betweene them selues,In what sorte shee shal come to combat with death. which of them shoulde haue the chiefe possession and presidence within the royall harbour of her thoughts. They shall attende on eache side of her Chariot, singing in her honour immortall prayses. Fayth and pure Zeale shalbe her Cha­riots guyde. Foure Horses, exceeding the snow in whitenesse (therein denoting her puritie) shall draw the same, their names, Wisedome, Reli­gion, Hope, and Charitie, all being blessings, and especiall graces of the highest: her armour shalbe of Magnanimitie, her Helmet of good Counsayle, assisting her in gouernment. The Sworde she shalbe gyrt withall, shalbe of an accustomed vertue of hers called Natural Pitie, the which she shall employ & put in vre against Crueltie: Her Speare shalbe of good Desart, stee­led with a head of hating Errour, all her workes and cogitations being thereunto incessantly bent and directed: her Shielde of Honestie, and her Coat-armour of Aucthoritie, before which, vayne Pleasure, and worldly Vanitie, neuer dare appeare. Vpon her arriuall, her King at armes, called Gouernment, shall proclayme all the parti­cularities of her estate, name, condition, and cause of coming. Presently will weerilesse Accident come foorth, armed with a new and [Page] fryghtfull Harnesse of Amazement, his Shielde of Dispayre, therewith to bereaue the defendant of all hope to escape, his Dart of Crueliie, his battle Axe of Impossibilitie, whose blow no soundnesse of health, nor vigorousnesse of force shalbe able to withstande: his Sworde shalbe of Passion, & his Dagger of Sorow. And thus furni­shed, shall he begin the combat, halfe dismayed at the vertue, fame, and estate, of so great an ene­mie, onely encouraged by the perswasion of Furie, that still incenseth him forwarde.

The gentle Princesse seeing him come, shall presently dismount off her Chariot, and with a well resolued constancie attende him, opposing against his fiercenesse her Speare of good De­sart. But inexorable Accident, no whit at all thereof esteeming, shall in such sort vexe and pursue this noble Ladie, that notwithstanding all the defence of her infinite vertues, he shall in the ende depriue her of lyfe, and the worlde of his chiefe ornament. So that heere shall be seene the ende of the mightie and puissant Queene, the very thought whereof forepossesseth my minde with griefe. But so firme and vnuanqui­shed shall her vertue be, that it shall perpetually retayne her name and memorie in lyfe, in despite of Atropos that gaue her death. Fame and Glorie shall geue her Sepulture: and though her body [Page 36] be by death vanquished, yet with a farre more worthy conquest, shall her ioyfull freed soule, by the grace of Gods goodnesse, winne eternall rest in the heauens.

At the ende of this wofull conflict,Philip sonne to Maximili­an the Empe­rour and fa­ther to Charles the fifth. shall a no­ble and heroyicall aduenturer present him selfe in the lystes, by name great Philip, heyre to Austria & Burgundie: to which by mariage with Donna Iohanna, daughter to Ferdinande, and the late remembred Q. Isabelle, he shall adioyne the riche and mightie kingdome of Spayne, Sicily, Arragon, and Naples.

Accident vnderstanding the arriuall of this matchlesse Prince, shall presently mount vpon a fresh Courser, called Outrage, his Armour shalbe of cruell Chaunce, of a hard and vnpenetrable temper, hammered and forged by Vnpitifulnesse, against which no bountie or valour is able to preuayle. His Shielde shalbe of Griefe, his Mace of Discomfort, his Sworde of Furie, and his Lance of the greatest Sorow that euer might happen to the worlde: in this terrible furni­ture shall he come to encounter the fearelesse youthfull Defendant.

The vertuous Austrian Prince shal come roy­ally accompanied vnto this dolorous passage, though greatly out of season, in the very flori­shing spring of his age and honour. And surely [Page] though I must needes accomplish the com­mandement of Atropos my Ladie and Mistres, in citing and summoning vnto this feared pas­sage all humane creatures, yet can I not dispos­sesse my thoughts of an infinitenesse of sorowe, in that I must be constrained to be a meane of so soone shortening the life of this exellent Prince, depriuing his people and subiectes of such a treasure, as they shall neuer be able to recouer.

He shall enter the listes armed onely with his owne excellent giftes, which ouer the world shal make him so renowmed and glorious. But dis­dainefull Fortune, enuiyng the worldes happi­nesse, shall take him away in the sweetest time of his life, shewing vs thereby a faire example of the vnsecure estate, ficklenesse, and instabiltie, of all vaine worldly prosperitie.

His horse shalbe Frankenesse, His vertues. his corslet Soue­raine bountie, his Lance True fortitude, his hel­met Assabilitie, his sworde Mercy, yet tempered in meete proportiō of Iustice, his targuet of High cogitation, substancially by Reason forged & per­fected. His heralde at armes, cald Beloued of all, shall with loud proclamation bidde giue place vnto this notable prince, whose like for loueli­nesse was neuer in the worlde, no not Titus Ves­pasian, though he were called the Delices of man­kinde. Fierce shalbe the first encountre of these [Page 37] two puissant warriors. But Accident fearing the daunger of Delay, considering the vndaunted valour of his aduersarie, shall employ euen at one instant the very vttermost of his force, and therewith shal so mortally wound him, with the feruent blow of a Continuall burning feuer, that not able to resist so great a violence, this incom­parable prince, shall yeeld the spoile of a glori­ous youth, to the crueltie of victorious Death, whose dayes did worthyly deserue to be with­out number, so shall the worlde with the shi­ning of his rare vertues be adorned. But merci­lesse Atropos, therby to encrease the terror of her name, shall cut a sunder his threed, when it was not a quarter wouen, filling the world with such a sorow, as it neuer before had tasted.

But now Accident, toiled with the greatnesse of these his former conquestes, shal quit for this time the place, and ordeine Debilitie in his steed to manteine the field, telling him of a mightie arriuing King, with whom he must encounter, willing him by any meanes to looke wel to him­selfe, and to the surenesse of his armour, in re­spect that the enemie, with whom he shall haue to do, shalbe second to none of the worlde in glorie of warre & peace. With these admonish­ments shal Debilitie presently come forth, moun­ted on a horse, named Helplesse, giuing thereby [Page] to vnderstand, that all hope of succour is vaine: his armour shalbe of Griefe, and his mace, which vsually he accustometh to beare, of langui­shing Weakenesse, wherewith he hath subdued many millions of people: his Lance shalbe con­tinuall Ill-rest, his Sworde of paynefull Disease, his Target obscurely enamiled with sundry in­firmities and greeuous paynes, and many other sorowfull signes of increasing Sicknesse and de­caying health: his Coat-armour shalbe all ouer embrodered with Crownes of Kings that he hath slayne, as likewyse he shall do to him that now commeth. Dreadlesse of force or pollicie he shall stande brauing at the entrie of the passage,Ferdinande K. of Spayne, Aragon, Na­ples, and Sici­lie. when straight shall appeare great Ferdinande the king Catholique of Spayne: with whom shall come a thousande memories of his great and glorius victories obscuring & darkening those that in ancient histories were before ac­counted famous. His Horse shalbe great Va­lour, his Vamplate Felicitie, eyther of both be­ing able to keepe Aduersitie at the bay: his Lance shalbe of great Gouernment, firme and constant in euery change either of time or occasion: his helmet of Discretion, making the effects of all his actions prosperous: his sword Magnani­mous conquest, winning him throughout the world both feare and honor: his shield of great [Page 38] Power, such as fortune with all her exorbitant ex­cesse shall not be able to diminish: his Coat-ar­mour of Prosperous euent, and his K. at armes, In­uincible, who shall vppon his entrie within the listes, proclaime his titles, kingdomes, estate, and name, ennobled with so many triumphes & vic­tories. But at the very first meeting, Debilitie shall with his Lance giue him such an encoun­ter of Il-rest, that the K. shall presently finde an alteration in his health and quiet; which aduan­tage Debilitie perceyuing, shall so double vpon him fierse blowes of Encreasing sicknesse and lan­guishing feintnesse, that in fine, notwithstanding his most constant, godly, and vertuous resoluti­on in that dismall combat, he shalbe depriued of life, and his enemie honoured with the victory of one that neuer in this world before was van­quished. But Fame shall wayte vpon his fune­ralls, and with his golden Trumpet blow about the worlde his Innumerable victories and vertues.

Debilitie swelling in the pride of so great an at­chiued conquest, lifting vp his sight, shal present­ly espie an other excellent prince, roally accom­panied, directing his steppes towardes this pas­sage of Terror, Maximilian of Austria Emperour of the Romanes. by name Maximilian of Austria, Emperour of the Occident, who shall come with a secure countenance, and princely resol­ued gesture to the fielde, mounted and armed as [Page] the other fore named princes, with infinite guifts of his owne naturall vertues, honoured besides with many warlike Ensignes and Standardes, taken from the powerfull Venecians, fierce Bo­hemians, and warlike Frenchmen. But pitilesse Debilitie, armed with rageful Crueltie, shall soone with a dispiteous blow of remedilesse Sicknesse, dimme the worldes lyght, by taking away this honorable Prince, whose zeale, iustice, and mag­nanimitie, made him inferiour to none of the passed Emperours in greatnesse of true glorie, neuer in any perpetuitie of time to be razed out of the registers of memorie.

The funeralles of this great Emperour (who while he lyued,Great Henry king of Eng­land commeth to encounter the Champi­ons of Atro­pos. as he did surmount al the rest of the worlde in degree, so did he equall the best in vertue) shalbe no sooner solemnized, when of a sodayne the ayre shalbe broken with so ter­rible and martiall a noyse of Drummes, Trum­petts, and Fifes, that the whole forest of Atropos shall seeme therewith to tremble and shake, and Debilitie that standeth glorifiyng him selfe in the fortunate euents of these his late conflictes, shalbe sodaynely astonished with a colde and chyllish feare, forecasting I know not what en­suing dangers in his minde. But when the he­roicall warres musique shall approch neare, and the wauing Stremers of banerolles appeare [Page 39] glittering aloft richly guylded and embrodered with Lions and Flourdelices of golde, then shal he first begin to be so fully possessed with an vnacquainted amazement and feare, that pre­sently quitting the place, he shal with haste re­payre vnto the Pauilion of Atropos, laying before her, with a wylde and affrighted gesture, the great danger of her selfe and her estate, yf pre­sently she did not take better order for the resi­stance of this puissant arriuing enemie. As for me, shal he say, I am not able to beare the stroke of so vnresistable a force: for how can I alone but feare him, whom so many mightie Kings vnited, and the most warlike nations of the worlde, did so dreadfully redoubt. This is he of whom the Destenies haue so often tolde you, that with such an ouergreatnesse should commaund the worlde.

Great Maximilian Emperour of the Romane Monarchie shoulde serue him in his warres, and to do him both honour and homage, shoulde with the Englysh Rose, adorne his Imperial di­ademe.

Iames, the most puissant & valourous King of warlike Scotlande, should with the ouerthrow of his royal assembled Armie, the slaughter of his innumerable Subiectes, the death of his greatest Peeres, the losse of al his honorable Enseignes, [Page] Artillarie, and Munitions, and finally, with his owne liues losse, yeelding him at Floddon a most famous and memorable victorie, satisfie his roy­all indignation,Paulus Giouius. so iustly conceyued, at the dis­loyaltie of so neare a beloued kinsman & freend.

The inuading French, should with the feareful noyse of his onely approching name, drowne them selues in the Southerne Seas.

Great Frauncis, whom French hystoriogra­phers, and not vnworthely, shoulde cal their Achilles, should so feare the fortune of this inuin­cible Prince, that he shoulde suffer him to range with his Armie ouer his Countrey vnfought withal, to put sundry of his Townes to the sacke, and lastly to returne victoriously vncontrolled.

Charles the fifth (then whom since Charle­mayne there neuer lyued a more worthy and heroycall Emperour) though highly offended with him for his Auntes diuorsment, yet should be so farre from daring to reuenge it, notwith­standing the greatnesse of his Empire and many Kingdomes, that he shoulde at length instantly desire his freendshyp, yea and sue for it with mighty presents, and great pensions, to such great Lordes as shoulde in those dayes beare sway about him.

Charles of Burbon should receyue his wages, by whose meanes the French King shoulde be [Page 40] taken at Pauia, Martin de Bellay in his commentari [...]s writeth, that K. Henrie the eight gaue the French K. to­wards his ran­some. 500000. crownes, whi­che the Em­perour did owe him, for not marying the Lady Marie accorning to couenantes be­tweene them, and withall a Fleuredelice of golde: vpon which, Henrie the .7. had lent to Philip fa­ther to Charls the .5. 50000. crownes at his being in Eng­lande. More­ouer, whereas he had lent Charles. 400000. crownes, for which he should haue had the townes of Ayr & S. Homer in gage, he gaue vnto the French K. al those writings: for it was one article of his fidelitie, that he should pay al these sums vnto K. Henrie the. 8. and afterwards agayne by the meanes and vnspeakable liberalitie of this re­doubted Monarch, mooued with a royall com­passion should be set at libertie, and restored to his regall Crowne and dignitie.

Pope Clement, being prisoner to the Imperial­listes (though afterwardes vnthankfully requi­ting so great a benefite) should be by his meanes set at libertie, and once againe enthronized.

But what shoulde I stande repeating these things vnto you, which you your selfe so well remember were long agon by the Destinies in maner of prophecie to you vnfolded; you see your selfe what he hath accomplyshed: what now remayneth for him, hauing by admirable Vertues, and inuincible Armes, drawen the worldes loue vnto him, but aspiring to immor­talitie to conquer death, and to make him selfe Lorde of this Forest. As for my selfe, I know mine owne power, and finde the same farre too weake to resist so great a puissance. Therefore I pray you, yf you be not vtterly carelesse of my safetie, and your owne seruice, let Accident be commaunded to ioyne with mee, and withall, the vttermost of your other forces to be assem­bled to succour vs, if neede require.

[Page] Atropos hereupon shall call for Accident, en­charging him to assist Debilitie, comforting them both with this assurance, that though this were the greatest and most redoubted enemie that euer they encountred, yet they shoulde not feare: for, being mortall, the high neuer-faylyng decree of Heauen, had ordeyned him to death: neuerthelesse she shall aduise them to arme them selues with all possible Heedefulnesse, and to be circumspect in their maner of fight.

Heerewith being somwhat encouraged, they shall arme them selues at all peeces with the surest tempered armours, and the sharpest deadly weapons, that the shorehouse or armorie of Atropos can yeelde them, and so march into the listes, though terrified in themselues, yet ter­rible to al the world els, saue onely to the dread­lesse Prince that shal encounter them.

And now, euen like the roring Ocean against a tempest, so shall the cloud-breaking noyse of his warrlike instruments approch with an vn­speakable terror, when presently, like the Sunne out of a cloude, so gloriously from out the lo­uing presse of his enuironing subiectes, shall ap­peare the excellent heire of the two long diui­ded houses Lancaster and Yorke, great Henry the eyght of England, with an vnmooued Maiestie, and sure resolued looke, though he see all deaths [Page 41] forces bent vnto his ruine.

His Courser shalbe inuincible Courage, sure footed, and neuer once stumbling in this dan­gerous carreere, but bearing him smoothly tho­rough, without euer starting, fearing, or blemi­shing, at the furious encoūter of his forcible ene­mie. His Corslet shalbe of Fortitude, gorgiously glistring in the pure brightnesse of true Nobilitie, as being of excellent proofe against al outward violence, so of singuler vertue in defending his royall minde from all thoughts of dishonour. His Lance, well iudging Foresight, surely faste­ned to his rest of great Experience, neuer there­with vnskilfully failing or vnknightly breaking a crosse, but with a faire encounter, still striking the honorable marke, whereunto it is by his worthy minde directed. His Sworde of cleere vnspotted Iustice, firmely hilted in Wisdome, and ensheathed in a faire scabbard of Mercie, out of which he shall neuer draw it, but when he shalbe by forcible necessitie therto constreined: His Target of Trust onely in God, vpon which he shal beare the blowes of all earthly violence: His fierie crested Headpeece of high Cogitation, lyned with prosperous Effect, and adorned with a fayre beautiful penache of immortal Fame: His Coat-armour of such and so great Renowne, as neuer more coulde happen to any mortal [Page] creature: His Heralde at armes shalbe vnspeak­able Liberalitie, which shal set such a grace vpon his other vertues, and that in so loude a voyce, that all the worlde shal heare him. Thus hono­red, thus armed, thus adorned, shal this great King enter within the compasse of the fatal lystes, Vertue leading him, and Glorie folowing him. The eyes and hartes of al the worlde be­ing fixed, and attentiuely bent, vpon the sequel of this admirable combat.

In fine, the Heraldes hauing commaunded si­lence, & the Trumpets sounded the cruel notes of warte, Accident not daring approche the rayes of so great a brightnesse, shal begin the fight a farre off, thinking to terrifie him with forayne Leagues and Inuasions; But the King betaking him selfe to his trustie fore-remembred Lance, shal with a thundring carrere, so represse the vio­lence therof, that the blow in steede of harming him, shal erect new Trophees to his honour. Then shal he throw at the fearelesse Prince his dartes of Treason and secret Conspiracies: but he vnsheathing his excellent Sworde, shall turne the danger thereof aside, and make frustrate the force thereof, so that the smart and peryll shall returne to his enemies.

But then twise wounded Accident enraged, and betweene feare and furie desperate, shall [Page 42] strike the triumphant King so cruel a blow with his Sworde of Distemperature, that though styll remayning in courage inuicible, yet shall he in his health and strength, finde him selfe greatly impayred: Neuerthelesse, drawing the weake­nesse of his body vp to the worthynesse of his mynde, he shall enforce him selfe styll to main­teyne the fight, tyll traytor Debilitie, mercilesse like a preuayling cowarde, shall while the King contendeth with Accident, powre downe vpon him with all his violence so vnreliueable a blow of remedilesse Sicknesse, that the neuer-before yeelding Prince, shall now, seeing such he kno­weth to be the diuine pleasure (with a quiet, yet magnanimous resolution, couering him selfe with his Target) enrich the earth with the noble burden of his fallyng body, and the heauens with his freed soule, empouerishing onely the worlde; whose griefe for his losse shalbe such, as though, the greatest pyller thereof being gone, it coulde not but attende a speedie ensuing downefal and ruine.

But herewith as Sommons woulde haue pro­ceeded in his wofull hystorie, I feeling my very soule ouerburdened with an insupportable greatnesse of sorow, entreated him to spare my alredie enough miserable eares, and not to af­flict them with hearing of further tragedies, but [Page] yf euer he would do me pleasure, then to shor­ten the time of my prolonged combat.

For alas, what shoulde I, miserable wretch that I am, desire to lyue, or wherein should life be sweete vnto me, seeing the glorious lights of the worlde so soone extinguished: no vertue, no wysedome, no loue, no honour, no beautie, no conquest, no nobilitie, no goodlinesse, no scepter, no force, no prayer, being able to stay the stryking hand of vnmercifull DEATH.

Whereunto Sommons replying, I had thought fayd he, to haue reuealed vnto you two future Combats more, of two great and Princely ad­uenturers: The one, of the most valourous and towardly young Prince of the worlde,King Edward the. 6. eldest sonne and successor to this great Englysh King: The beames of whose sayre rising Sunne, shall no sooner begin to glimmer in our Orizon, but they shall warme the whole worlde with his loue.Queene Ma­rie. The other of his eldest daughter, lykewise succeding him in the royall Diademe, who wereby Accident both soone depriued of their lyues, and dispossessed of their thrones. But seeing thee alredie of apprehensiue of forow, and afflicted with such extremitie of passion, I will forbeare to perplex thy eares with any farther griefe: yet woulde not I haue thee to repine at the diuine ordinance. For though the [Page 43] Almightie in his secrete iudgement shall thinke good to depriue the worlde of these most ex­cellent Princes: yet shal he not leaue it altogea­ther desconsolate and abandoned: For he shal blesse the perished Princes with successors of such worthinesse, that lyke true heyres, as wel of the Vertues, as Crownes of their predecessours, they shal afresh brighten the worldes obscured face, and with the goodly shyning of their wel deserued glorie, returne the estate thereof into the former blisfulnesse. But aboue all the rest, so shall he ennoble the memorie of the late Englysh Monarch, with so excellent and glorious a DAVGHTER, that in her alone shalbe seene vnited all the seuerally dispersed Vertues that made so glorious the forenamed Princes, in so much that all the worlde with one agreeing consent, shal proclayme her to be the most ad­mirable Princesse that euer lyued. And,The prophesie of the Deste­nies cōcerning Elizabeth the Queene of England. which is a thing not of the lightest consideration, but perchaunce one of the greatest wonders that euer any age hath seene, In her onely shal not Fortune contende with Vertue, but, contrarie to her nature, lyke a submisse and willing Hand­mayde, attende vpon her noble desires, con­stantly effecting them, yea, sometimes in things most rare and marueylous. Likewise, there shal­be so sweete a consent, & so fit a proportion be­tweene [Page] the great richesse of her minde, and the fayre ornaments of her body; that as the one shal atteine to the height and perfection of for­titude, wisedome, temperance, iustice, and all other diuine vertues wherewith a royall minde should be garnished, so shall the other in goodly lyneamentes, and beautifull features, so without all degree of comparison surmount the rest of her sex, that the worldes eye shal neuer more be­holde a sweeter and more louely obiect, as be­ing in deede Delitiae humani Generis, singular in her selfe, and excellent beyonde al comparison.

And to make vp the full poynt of her happi­nesse, as she shal both in rules of gouernment, and vertue of gouerning, serue to all Christian Princes as an excellent Paterne and example, preseruing her Subiectes in a quiet estate, full of reposefull blessednesse, when round about her, some through the tyranous exactions of their Prince, and some through the vnskilful gouern­ment of their Prince, and some through his neg­ligent and contemptible loosenesse, shall mur­ther them selues with mutuall woundes, and be torne within them selues to peeces: As she, I say, shall by her princely care, and prudent fore­sight, maynteine her Subiectes in this calme se­curitie of vntroubled peace; so shal they againe, with so quiet and unmurmuring a course of [Page 44] faythful obedience,Neuer Prince more blessed in her subiects. Neuer sub­iects more blessed in their Prince. loue and honour her, that she, if euer any Prince, shalbe blessed in her Sub­iectes, and they, yf euer any Subiectes, blessed in their Prince.

But which is strangest, comming to the royal Diademe, in the fayre youthful spring of her virgins yeeres, she shall finde the estate of her Realme diuided in faction, differing in religion, and through the troubles of the late preceeding gouernement, exceedingly discontented: All which incōueniences, being by the vnfortunate successe of the former gouernment (wherein the Sworde was more employed then the Scep­ter) styrred vp, and in apparance tending to some feareful and dangerous issue, she shal with the sweete breathing gale of her well tempered Mildnesse, so pacifie, alay, and vtterly extinguish, that she shal reduce her Subiectes from the dee­pest degree of constreyned feare, to the high­est pytch of faythful loue, and duetiful obedi­ence, that euer Prince was honored withal.

Neither shall her inuincible armes in iustly vndertaken Warres abrode, be lesse glorious vnto her, then this her admirable Peace and iustice in ciuill gouernment at home. Neyther shall be most warlike nations of Europe onely, as Spayne, Portugall, France, Scotlande, and Ire­lande, but euen the remotest regions, and con­cealed [Page] partes of either Tropique, the frozen Poles, and the middle burning Zone, be constreyned to bow vnto the victorious Englishe Enseignes: nothing being more rife in the mouthes of men, yea as well of the farthest Indians, and sa­uage people, as of the proude neighbouring na­tions, then the name of great ELIZABETH, writ­ten in the blood of those that resist, and the pardoned lyues of those that yeelde, of all victo­ries the fayrest register, and best enduring mo­nument.

To recount vnto you the seuerall egregious victories that shee shall giue, both by sea and land, to the most fierce and warlike nations that then shall possesse the world, were fitter for the large relation of a Chronicle, then this my short discourse: But this I assure you, they shalbe such, as I know not whether any antiquitie can bring forth the like.

In fine, her Kingdome shalbe the secure Hauē of Afflicted Princes, her Purse the royall main­tenance of Distressed Kings, and her powerfull Armes, the yoking bridle of Ambitious Tirants.

As for the Princely magnificence of her Court, her well expressed iudgement in the election of graue and honorable Counseylors, her well employed rewardes on those that shalbe Vertuous and of merite, her bountifull liberalitie, [Page 45] and gratious enterteinment of Strangers, her learning, languages, and skilfulnesse in royall knowledge of such artes and secrets as to her estate are fitting, so vnable is my feeble speeche to aspire vnto the heigth of their worthynesse, that forbearing to speake of things so farre aboue my reach, I know no better way then to couer them vnder the vaile of silence, leauing the large campe of her prayses, to the excellent wri­ters of that age wherein shee shall floorish, her rarenesse being such, that she shall with the highnesse of her vertue, drawevp (as the heate of the Sunne doth vapours from the earth) the excellent wittes of her time to so high a pitch, that the following ages among millions of o­ther noble workes penned in her praise, shall as much admire the writer, but farre more the sub­iect of the fairie Queene, as euer former ages did Homer and his Achilles, or Virgill and his Aeneas, such worthy, rare, and excellent matter, shall her matchlesse and incomparable vertue yeelde them to ennoble their pennes, & to im­mortalize their fames.

As for me, hauing now made you acquain­ted with the former Combats, of which I made you promise, though I haue in their recital per­chaunce seemed somewhat prolixe, yet yf you wil consider the perticularitie of the mentioned [Page] Princes, I feare you shall rather haue occasion to blame my breuitie. Hauing now, as I say, sa­tisfied your desire, and that truely without abu­sion or deceipt, I wil now take my leaue of you, because Atropos standeth in neede of my seruice. As for your Combat, neuer trouble your selfe with vrging it farther, for I wil, doubt you not, sommon you thereunto in time, and therefore I would wish you euen now to make yourselfe redie, seeing the houre thereof cannot be but at hande. At the ende of these speeches, he tooke his leaue of mee, and departed, leauing mee in a strange confusiō, betweene sorow of that which was past, & wonder of that which was to come, my onely comfort being to thinke of that for­tunate and golden age, wherein the branches of these deceassed Princes shal liue, especially that excellent & matchlesse Empresse of the Ocean.

Herewith Memorie, that had all this while at­tentiuely listened vnto these passed tragicall discourses, seeing me still perseuer in my pen­siuenesse, vsed her best endeuours to comfort me, and requested me, seeing I had such prolon­gation and respite of time graunted me, to re­turne, and to take my lodging with her, whyther she would cause the olde hermite Vnderstanding to be sent for, of whom I might take good and firme counsayle against the doubtfull issue of [Page 46] this dangerous Combat, which now of necessi­tie was shortly to betide me. I willingly accep­ted her gentle offered enterteinement, and tur­ning my Horse, was contented to folow her.

By the way, she perceiuing my minde to be ouer-pressed with heauie and melancholy thoughtes, endeuoured to remooue me from those sorowfull apprehensions, by recording vnto me many passed pleasing Histories and al­legories,He returneth to the mansiō of Memorie. moralizing them all vnto my good and comfort: So that passing on the way without tediousnesse, we were soone arriued at her mansion: whither Vnderstanding the good Her­mite was sent for;He is there visited by Vn­derstanding. who redie, and duetifull at her commandement, was in my Chamber at my bedside so soone as the dawning of the next morning appeared.

I exceedingly reioyced at his comming, be­cause I knew him to be a counsayler voyde of al fraude, and ful of vertuous consolation, graue in his iudgement, and sounde in his aduise: God be thanked for his goodnesse, that gaue me happinesse to haue his acquaintance, and grace to bende my minde to folow the direction of his counsayles. After many mutuall congratu­lations betweene vs, he began to instruct me with many lessons, all teaching the way how to liue and die well: in which two onely poynts [Page] consisteth all the height and excellence of wise­dome.Wherein con­sisteth the height of wisedome.

First quoth he, who so euer he be that is to combat either within List, Barrier, or Steccada, he ought well to consider as well the qualitie of his owne forces, as of those of his enemie, and according thereunto to make his prouision of furniture and defence.

For rashly to enter vnprouided vnto so great an enterprise, as it coulde not be but to the body dangerous, so it woulde be to the soule doubt­full: of which, whosoeuer maketh a carelesse ac­compt, may well be tearmed miserable and vn­happie.

And although that whosoeuer is honorably chalenged to single combat, may make choyce of his weapons, besides certaine other priui­ledges that he hath both of time and place: yet such is the necessitie and streight limitted con­dition of this your fight,Death often striketh with­out warning. and Atropos your ad­uersarie so full of dishonorable aduantages, that he will not geue you so much as warning when, or where he meaneth to assayle you, whether by water or by land, whether in desart or in playnes,Nothing so vncertaine as the houre of a mans death. whether in your bed or vppon your horse, but perchaunce euen surprise you of a so­daine, when you shalbe prouided neither of weapon, nor defence able to auaile you.

[Page 47] Considering therfore the neere approching time of your combat,And therfore nothing so behouefull as to be alwayes in a redinesse. and withall the entrap­ping stratagems and cautelous wily aduanta­ges of your aduersarie, I would wishe you in time to make prouision accordingly, and that with such warie and heedefull circumspection, that no sodainnesse be able to ouertake you; which if you will follow these my instructions, I doubt not, but you shall easily performe with your endlesse honor and welfare.

First let al your Harnesse be tempered in true Repentance, What Armes are fit to en­counter death withall. so fastly forged, and beaten with the hammer, that no deadly sinne be able to teint them, nor ougly vice haue power to pierce thē. Let your Vamplate be firmely steeled with a firme resolued purpose to perseuer in Well-doo­ing, seeking in all your actions, with a true reli­gious zeale the seruice and glorie of God. Let your Vambraces be of Vertuous Magnanimitie, in not yeelding to fraile worldly pleasures: and your Gantelets of perfect Charitie, shewing the liuelinesse of your faith, in the operation of your workes. Aboue all, let your Headpeece be of Temperance; which though it be in the worlde a vertue rarely founde, and litle set by, yet it is a iewell most pretious, and will in this enterprise highly stande you in steede. Let your Cuisses be of patient Suffering, your Poldrones of [Page] Diligence, and your Greues of labour to do Well. In this maner armed, and all the peeces of your Armour combined togeather in Fayth, such and so sure wilbe your foundation, bea­ring the blessed signe of the sacrament of Bap­tisme in your forhead, that your speede cannot be but good and glorious. But now seeing you wel prouided of armes defensiue, I thinke it not amisse to prouide you likewise of such as may hurt, offende, and terrifie your enemie.

Ordinarily whosoeuer is chalenged, may choose to fight a foote or a horsebacke, as he shal for his aduantage finde fittest. But so diffrent is this your fight, from the nature of other Com­bats, that it is to be fought by your selfe alone, and that on foote: neither, if it were otherwise, would I haue you trust to your Horse, or to any other helpe: But euen that you do, do it of your selfe: I meane, in doing workes of Charitie, and bestowing Almes for your soules health,Good workes done by others after a mans death, nothing at al auailable while your selfe is liuing: for when you are dead, small auaile will the good workes done by your heires yeelde you; neither, as the worlde goeth, will they be greatly carefull of any such perfor­mance.

Alwayes prouided, that for the securer pas­sage to the place appoynted, you take Baptisme, whom at your birth you vowed neuer to denie, [Page 48] for your Padrine.Padrino in Spanish signi­fieth him that goeth with his freende into the feelde, or doth accom­pany him vn­to a iust or torney, with meaning to defende him from wrong. It signifieth also a Godfa­ther. He will yeelde you valoure, courage, and contentment, and to your enemie terrour, sadnesse, and amazement, such and so preheminent is the force of this excellent Sacra­ment. Let your Casting-dart be surely steeled with a head of feruent Deuotion: your Speare Remembrance of his Death, that with his Blood redeemed you: your Dagger with a sharpe and wel pearcing point, of a pure, vigorous, and true catholique Faith: and your Targuet of vertuous Example, witnessed by good Workes.

And seeing you want now nothing but a Sworde, let the same be of Iustice, keene and wel edged, doing vnto others, as you woulde be done vnto your selfe. But especially, and aboue all, looke as I said, that these your Harnesse and Weapons, be without delay, yea, without the losse of one moment, tempered by true and wel grounded Repentance, who for such a conflict, is of all others an armourer most excellent.

Stande not vpon Inconueniences, nor be not pulled backe with Worldly lets, nor terrified with Charges, but be diligent, and looke well about you: it is no matter of mine, it concerneth yourselfe; neither is there any freende or kins­man in the worlde, how deere soeuer vnto you, that will, or may, fight this Combat for you.

Good father, quoth I, I hartely thanke you, for these your so louing and zelous aduertis­ments, which haue alredy taken so deepe an impression in my minde, that I hope, through Gods goodnesse, I shalbe able in some part to execute and performe them.

Yet because there must be a preparation; and meane while, betweene this & the time of my Combat, I pray you tell me how I shoulde be­haue and exercise my selfe, to be the better able to withstande the dreadfull approche of my Death-bringing enemie. Nay quoth he, whe­ther there shalbe any meane while, or time of preparation giuen you, that onely knoweth the Diuine prouidence: For, you may chaunce to be sommoned, euen while you are now spea­king. Therefore, I wish you not to be vnreso­lute, or long in preparing, but to put your selfe presently in redinesse, seeing the thing, that by delay you do put in hazarde, is no lesse then the eternall weale, or woe of your soule: which is, either to be glorified with blisfull and euer-during ioyes, or els to be condemned to the ragefull neuer-ceasing tormentes of hell fire. Woebe vnto them, that making hereof but a skoffe and iest, do hazarde so great a treasure as their soule, vpon so hard a iumpe, as to delay [Page 49] preparation in so important a matter, especially the time and sodainnesse thereof being so vn­certaine.

Yet if it so fall out, that there be any space of preparation or amendement (which the good­nesse of the heauens graunt you) I would haue you to spende the same in vertuous exercise and practise of your fore-described weapons.

Adioyne vnto them the often vse of feruent Prayer, How a man should exercise himselfe afore he commeth to the combat. not onely with an outward wagging of your lippes, but also with an inwarde weeping of your hart. Rise earely in the morning, least the nights darknesse at vnawares ouertake you. Stop, as neare as you can, your fiue sensual pow­ers, from hearing, seeing, touching, tasting, or consenting, to any Wickednesse, fraile sensuali­tie, or blasphemous impietie. Slumber not drowsilie in Sinne, but watchfully arise by true Contrition, and vnfeigned Repentance. As your appetite, so let your tongue be temperately vsed.

Besides, for the better enabling of your body against the endurance of fight, I woulde haue you still be wrestling and skirmishing against such Champions as haue the chiefest fame for strength and power: such are Pride, Enuie, Glut­tonie, Couetousnesse, Slouth, Anger, and Sensualitie: which doing, and keeping your body cleane in breath, with the sober diet of a vertuous and [Page] harmeles Life, doubt not, but cheerefully go on to the Combat; for by Gods grace, howsoeuer if fareth with your bodily life, your better part shall triumph in glorious victorie, and in des­pite of raging Lucifer, and all his adherents, purchase eternall saluation.

If there be any warde,Who are the best maisters of Fence, to in­struct him that prepareth to fight this combat. or poynt of defence, that you doubt off, repaire vnto some godly Father & reuerend Priest of Christ his Church, and he will sufficiently aduise you: for such are the Maisters of Fence, whose counsayle in these cases you must vse.

Good Father, quoth I, I finde great consola­tion in your speeches: but now you haue tolde me what maner of Armes I must vse, and what exercise I shoulde enterteine my selfe withall till the time of my Combat, I pray you tell me yet a litle more, how I shall behaue my selfe when I come to the paynefull poynt within the List or Barrier.

You haue not made this demaunde,The miserable estate of a man dying. quoth he, without great cause and reason: for in deede, such shalbe in that perilous conflict the trouble of your senses, and terrour of your enemie, con­spiring all his wilinesse and force to your ouer­throw, that it wilbe hard for you to retayne a constant behauiour, especially seeing your selfe [Page 50] frustrated of all worldly helpe. No one of your tendrest harted frendes will excuse you, nor helpe to fight on your side, yea, perchance your parentes, children, and neerest freendes, shall not (at such disaduantage may you be taken) be present to be vnto you witnesses of combat, or meanes of comfort.

Therefore, reposing no trust or confidence in any other helpe or assistance, flie onely vnto GOD with a fast and feruent Fayth, imploring his grace, through the precious death and bles­sed merites of his onely Sonne our Sauiour: with the contemplatiue meditation of whose holy crosse and bitter passion, yf you do fortifie your hart and senses, be assured, that you shall therewith easily daunt and confounde your enemie. Alwayes desire of God to geue you firme stablenesse in Fayth, whose assistance, be­ing ioyned with mine, I trust that in strength we shalbe able to vpholde you.

But withall, for your greater securitie and repose, I woulde haue you take with you a rest­ing seate of Satisfaction, which is, in making Restitution, and doing Right to whom so euer you haue wronged, forgeeuing, and desiring of all the worlde forgiuenesse.

When you come to take your Othe,The vertuous Champions othe. sweare that you receiued Baptisme, by vertue whereof [Page] you are a Christian, in which Fayth you deter­mine to liue and die, and which quarell you do most willingly offer your present body to main­teyne against your aduersarie: who not satisfied with the desolution of your body, will also with tempting, and frightfull suggestion, seeke the destruction of your soule.

Presently will your aduersarie come foorth,The othe of the aduersary. and sweare, full of hopefull assurance, that you are the childe of Adam, and subiected vnto Death: Which ransome, for the remedie of ori­ginal sinne, it pleased Christ the sonne of God, by taking on him our humanitie, him selfe to pay. And as the warie Champion, when he be­ginneth to fight, will, as neare as he can, take his aduantage of the Sunne: so likewise be you cir­cumspect, so to appeare within the Listes, that you be no way offensiue to the glistering of the diuine goodnesse,

The Iudge of this your Combat,Iudge of the combat. shalbe the euerliuing Righteousnesse; and therefore looke that you be vnto him fearefully Obedient, firmlie and constantlie Beleeuing in him with a true Worship and adoration of his sacred name: That shalbe vnto you a strong Shielde of defence against all whatsoeuer inconuenience; and with such a securitie any feeblenesse is strong and forcible

[Page 51] If you finde your selfe ouertaken with any sodaine faintnesse, confusion, or amazement of your senses, flie presently to the blessed refuge of his infinite and endlesse Mercy, wherein assure yourselfe, you shall finde all refreshing content­ment, and quiet consolation of your vnrestfull senses: for who so, in that passage of Terror forgeteth not, but remembreth, with due honor and reuerence, his maker and redeemer, can ne­uer be ouerthrowen or vanquished: such is his owne promise, witnessed in the holy Scriptures, which we must firmely and stedfastly beleeue: And withall note this, that the first steppe to true Life, is a godly Death.

Be not rashe in your fight, but mooue your­selfe with a wel aduised and leisurely Resolution. See that you employ well your blowes, & strike not any of them vainely at the winde: and then though your breath chaunce to faile you, feare not: for if you obserue these precepts of mine, I assure you the Glory of the day shalbe yours.

But first, for a sure safe conduct and protecti­on against all mischieues, I would haue you re­uerently to receyue the blessed Sacrament of Christ his supper,The blessed Sacrament of Christ his supper. and so shall you be assured to conquer your enemie, at whose sight be not ter­rified or amazed, but with a patient magnanimi­tie obey your good Angell, whom God hath [Page] appointed for your garde.

I haue now no more to say, but if you do be­leeue, & effectually follow these my counsells, you shalbe eternally safe; if not, you will incurre the daunger of a double death both in bodie and soule.

Thus did the reuerend Hermite, with zealous instructions, teach me the way to euerlasting life, when yet in my minde did arise a new doubt and question, which but for feare to haue bin accōpted ouer-curious, I would haue entreated him to explane vnto me, which hee perceyuing, willed me not to be dismayed, but boldly and freely to vtter my conceipt.

Whereuppon, I earnestly entreated him to tell me, if there were not any certaine signes or tokens to foreknow the time that Atropos should appoint for triall of this combat. Debilitie, sayd he, will shortly send you warning hereof by his messengers, and Accident likewise by his: But as I tolde you before,The best is to be euer redie. there is in this no certen­tie, for they perchance will take you so short, and so of a sodaine,The first vant-currors or messengers that sommon vs to this combat. that you shall haue no ley­sure to put on your armour. The best therefore is to haue a watchfull eye, and to be euer redy.

The first Vant-currors, that commonly will bring you tidings hereof, wilbe your eyes, when [Page 52] you must be fayne to supply their decayed sight with Spectacles. For nothing more eui­dently foresheweth the nights approching dark­nesse, then the dayes decreasing cleernesse.

Your eares likewise when they must be fur­red and stopt with cotten, may serue in steede of an Alarum bell or Trumpet, to sommon you to present your selfe vnto the fielde.

Your head also and your handes, like trustie seruants, will by their feeblenesse and trembling, giue you warning of your approaching danger.

Neither will your legs, once so well pro­portioned, and with such delicate streightnesse supporting the stately burthen of your so much beloued body, be behind hereof to giue you ad­uertisement, when they must craue the assistance of a staffe to performe their office.

The decaying of these limmes, senses, and members, is an assured token, that you cannot long holde out. Therefore, still I aduise you, as neere as you can, to seeke with your soule those ioyes that will neuer faile nor corrupt;The ende of the bodie is corruption. as for the body, the ende thereof is corruption, and the truest repose the graue. Besides these rehearsed messengers, there are thousands of griefes, sicke­nesses, woundes, mischances, and infirmities, that will serue for heralds to sommon and cha­lenge you to this deadly point and sorowful pas­sage [Page] you speake of.

Herewith the aged father ending his dis­course, tooke his leaue of me, and departed, lea­uing me, though greatly comforted with his en­couragements & instructions, yet sorowfull and heauie for his departure.

But seeing there was no other remedie, ga­thering together in my memory all these passed discourses, I arose and determined to write, true­ly and sincerely, the passages and aduentures of my life, euen as I had felt and passed them: and thereuppon I made this litle treatise, which I hope will finde gentle acceptance, (though the stile be barren) especially of all those that beare vertuous mindes, and are according to the title of this litle booke, true Resolued Gentlemen. To them I offer it in charitable loue, hoping that the vertue of my honest meaning, shall ennoble the poorenesse of my guift.

Heauie thoughtes, and most iustly concea­ued griefe, moued me first to beginne it: now it is ended, I beseeche the almightie, that comfort, profite, and contentment, may betide those that shall reade it. I haue, and in my iudgement not without some reason, adorned it with the title of the true Resolued Gentleman, whose aduentu­res I beseech you well to note, that do vouch­safe the reading heereof: for euen such wilbee [Page 53] the course of your encountres, & such the ende, as heere, vnder the name of an other, you see re­presented: For in fine, all worldly pompe, Beautie, magnificence, and what els soeuer the world hath goodly or admirable, turneth to rottennesse and corruption: and Death, enemie to nature, equalleth scepters with mattocks, and king with beggers.

Once againe I beseeche you accept this litle Treatise in good parte, if not for the worth thereof, yet for his sake