¶ Why in the firste Age men liued longer, then in this our Age present. Chap. 1.

WHo so euer is studious in Holy Write, ought in manner of ne­cessitie to knowe, that in the Firste Age, and before that for Sinne, the general Fludde ouerranne the whole Worlde, Mans life was then longer, then it is nowe presently. For euidente is it, that Adam lyued nine hundred and thirtie yéeres: Sethe, nine hun­dred and twelue: Caine, nine hundred and tenne. And so afterwardes descending from the one vnto the other, who so lyued leaste, lyued seuen hundred yéeres. And in theise our dayes, fewe reache to eightie, or nintie: which who so at any time passeth, rare is his hap, very strange, and marueilous, in sutche sorte, that wée lyue not the tenthe parte of theire time. The Learned therefore, as well Diuines, as naturall Philosophers, whiche haue hereof carefully discoursed, findinge the same Nature, whiche hathe géeuen vs cause of Béeinge, to be the very same, with that of theise forepassed Ages: and that these our Forefathers here lyued so longe naturally, and not by Myracle: féeling them selues not a litle herewith tro­bled, beganne curiously herein to searche the causes, or reasons. The whiche thinge, as well vnto M. Varro, as also vnto infinite others, in the woorkes of Nature ap­peared so difficill, that they supposed the yéeres of the for­mer Ages past, not to haue bene sutch, as are these of our time. Which opiniō is open folly, an errour too too great, and altogeather inexcusable, as wée shall make euidente [Page] in the Chapter folowing, hauinge here first remembred the aduice of certaine graue, wise, & learned Authours. When therefore I reade the iudgemente of others, and in fine thence descende vnto mine owne opinion, the principal reason, mée thinketh, why we in this time, liue not as longe as did others in the firste, and Olde Age, is, that our Forefathers had not then any the causes, whiche in vs newe ingender diuers maladies, and disea­ses, whence necessarily ensue Stoopinge Age, & Deathe. Here muste wée also consider, that our firste Parentes, Adam, and Eue were created, and framed by the very hande of God, without any other aide or meane: whence it is to be presumed, that he perfected them with comple­xion moste excellent, with a true Sympathia, and propor­tion of humours, the cause of theire continued healthe in these their many yéeres. By meanes wherof, their Chil­dren, issuinge of Parentes of suche perfecte constitution, as also theire Ofspringe risinge to them againe, whiche naturally lyued so longe, and many daies, muste resem­ble theire Elders in like perfection, and constitution of bodye, as men takinge either theire beginninge, or bée­inge, of a matter most pure and simple, vntill sutch time as by the chaunge of Ages (whose propertie is to alter, and to impayre al thinges) the state of Man beganne to weaken, yéeldinge his daies in number fewer then be­fore. Againe in that Age, one thinge to them was ve­ry helpinge, and profitable: the whiche same to vs is ve­ry noysome, and contrary: whiche was the greate tem­perancy vsed in Drinkinge, as well in quantitie, as in qualitie also, with the small chaunge, and varietie of Meates: for neither had they so many sortes, or sundrie dishes, as wée, ne knewe they any, or newe, or dainty in­uentions. To eate Fleashe, what it was, before the ge­nerall Floudde, was vnto Man altogeather vnknowen. Further, some hold for common, & most assured opinion, that bothe Fruites, and Hearbes without all compari­son, [Page 2] were in those daies of farre greater efficacie, and vertue, then any, founde any where in this our latter Age: for that they then sprange out of a new, and fyned soyle, and not of sutche as nowe it is worne, wasted, weryed, and consumed. For the Generall Inundation tooke from it, his woorthe or fatnesse, leauinge it in re­specte, infertile and barren, restinge salte and vnsauery, by the rage of the Sea, whiche many wéekes flowed ouer it. These reasons then are good, and eche of them suffi­cient to conclude, that it neither was so straung, or mar­ueilous, but rather a thinge most agréeant vnto nature, that men then lyued longer, then in these daies present­ly. Farther it maie be saide, (that whiche wée for an as­sured truthe holde) that Adam well knewe the vertues of all Hearbes, Plantes, and Stoanes, whiche also his Successours, of him in sutche sorte learned, that to the like perfection after them, neuer any attained. This then was graunted them of somme parte for the preseruation of their healthe, for the continuance, and protraction of their daies in this worlde: who to expel the causes of dis­eases, if any grewe on them, only vsed to minister Sim­ples, abhorring our venemous compoundes of this Age: whiche in place to purge, and purifie mans bodye, wea­ken, and dispatche for the moste parte the poore patiente. Againe in these aboue remembred firste yéeres, both the life, and healthe of man was propte, and sustained by the course of the Heauens, with y^e influence of the Starres, and Planettes, then farre more beneficiall, then they presently nowe are: for that then there neither had paste so many Aspectes, Coniunctions, Eclipses, with other infinite Impression Celestiall, whence nowe procéede so many chaunges, variations, & alterations on the Earth, and emonge the Elementes also in those daies principal occasion of healthe, and continuance, contrarye nowe in this our Age of all sickenesse, and deathe. But aboue all that, that wée haue here alleaged, or by reason haue [Page] any waye proued, I nowe mainteine the many yéeres of these our Firste Fathers, to haue procéeded of the only, and inspeakeable prouidence of God, whose Maiestye would their continuance shoulde be sutch, and so longe, and that these aboue remembred causes, ayded mutually one the other, to the only intente, that of twoo persons might then increase many, that the Earthe might be in­habited, and mankinde increased. Also farther conside­ringe, that for as mutche as Man after the fludde, liued not so longe as before: God licensed that they should en­ter into the Arke, and there saue them selues, more Men and Woomen then him selfe in the beginning, and at the first had Created, to the only ende, that the world might the sooner be inhabited. S. Augustine, of this matter, writinge some thinge, reporteth, that our Forefathers Li. 15. de Ciui­tate Dei. hadde not only in health, and many daies, aduantage of vs, but also in huge and greate statures of body, as is e­uident, remembred by many, their boanes as well found in their Sepulchres, and Graues, as also at times vnder great Mountaines and Hilles: in sutche sorte that some assuredly hold, that thei were the boanes of such as liued before the Inundation. The same S. Augustine affir­meth, that being at Ʋtica a towne in Aphrike, beholding there the boanes of a dead mans bodie, amonge others, founde there some of his Iawes, so great and weighty, that they well would haue poised an hundred of these in our Age. Notwithstanding though yet our life be short, yet maie wée not for iuste cause any where complaine: for that, if wée abuse it in contempt of the Diuine Maie­stie, a rare benefite receiue we that thei to vs be so short­ned: for wée will now no longer acknowledge our God: and yet if wée would as becometh vs in all feare to serue him, a time sufficient hath he to that purpose lente vs, for that the bountie of our Sauiour is so great and rea­dy, that he receiueth for Attonement sufficiente, mans bowinge harte and humble spirite.

¶ That the opinion of those, that supposed the yeeres of the for­mer Ages paste, to haue benne more short then these of our time, is false. As also whiche was the firste Cittie of the worlde, and finally that our Forefathers had more Chil­dren, then these that are remembered to vs in the Scri­ptures. Chap. 2.

FOr that it appeared vnto some, that the space of nine hundred yéeres, in our firste Fathers séemed a thing altogether impossible, lesse able to cōprise or receiue these aboue remembred reasons by vs alleaged, the only and sole causes of that so longe a life. And where as they durste not to denie the foresaide number of yéeres, so plainely and openly specified, and geuen vs out of holy Write, they affirme, that the yéeres of the first age, were farre more shorter, then these of our time: so that the ad­uantage of longe life, whiche is vnto them attributed so farre aboue vs, is not so greate as it hathe benne suppo­sed. Somme others emonge them would also assure vs, that one of our yéeres, containeth tenne of that age past. Also many others haue saide, that eche course of the Moone yéelded vnto them one whole, full, and compleate yéere, whiche it pleased them to tearme, Annus Lunaris. Others some also dreamed, that thrée of our Monethes gaue to them a yéere: so that this accoumptinge, foure of theire yéeres lendeth vs iuste one, and no more. For that in this sorte, as wel the Chaldeans, as also the Arca­dians parted theire yéeres, as remembreth Lactantius. M. Varro a moste learned Romaine, in others many, be­sides this matter, was of the opinion, that these Anni Li. 2. Diuinarū Institutionum. Lunares, were to be numbred from the Coniunction of the Moone, vntil the newe Moone againe, whiche maie be the space of xxix. dayes, and certaine odde houres. Pline in like māner reckeneth it fabulous, that any in the first Age shoulde liue so many dayes, affirminge that the In­habitauntes of Arcadia so numbred theire yéeres (as wée [Page] aboue haue remembred) by the space onely of thrée Mo­nethes without more. There is also emonge vs Chri­stians, a certaine Booke, of the Ages of the worlde, writ­ten by Eliconiensis, where he also séemeth to be of the saide minde, and aduice. Notwithstanding it appeareth moste euidently, that the yéeres mentioned in the Holy Scriptures, were none others, then these of our time, & that if there were any kinde of difference, sutche it was, as was not almoste sensible. Which thinge is very well proued by Iosephus, as also by Lactantius Firmianus, but yet more perfectly, and more plainely by S. Augustine: by whose authoritie, and reasons, easily may be confounded who so leaneth to the contrarye. Touchinge the firste, that eche Moone in that Age gaue them one full yéere, ac­coumptinge euermore from the one Coniunction vnto the other, it resteth an eroour moste open, and euidente: for that wée wel know, that, that conteineth not thirtie dayes full, so that one hundred yéeres folowing this our accoumpte, would mounte vnto aboue one thousand and twoo hundred of theirs of that time. Whence it woulde folowe contrarye to the opinion of all, that men in our Age nowe presently lyue longer, then they did immedi­ately after the Creation of the world, for that neuer was there any man, that liued one thousande and twoo hun­dred yéeres, whiche nothinge surmounteth this Age of ours. It also is apparente, that somme emonge vs liue an hundred yéeres, somme also (thoughe rare it chaunce) an hundred and twelue, whiche woulde rise to more then a thousande and thrée hundred yéeres, accoumpting them accordinge to the course of the Moone. Like errour to this, was not also theirs, which affirmed tenne yéeres of the firste Age paste, to be iuste one, and no more of this our time? For had that their opinion bene true, then should men haue benne able in the acte of Genera­tion, at the Age of seuen, eighte, and tenne yéeres, which squareth with no rule, or parte of Philosophie. For [Page 4] proofe whereof, wée reade in Genesis, that Seth the sonne Genesis. 5. of Adam begatte Enoch, beinge then olde an hundred and fiue yéeres. If then ten yéeres of that Age, had an­sweared by iust proportion but vnto one of these oures, it then shoulde followe, that these of the firste Age, at the Age of tenne yéeres and a halfe, of this time present shoulde be stronge and able in the acte of Generation. Cain also hauinge issue at thréescoare and tenne yéeres, should haue also benne Father, followinge our accompt at the ende of his first seuen yéeres, yea and that whiche more is, at a farre yonger Age, if one of our yéeres had counterpeased twelue of the firste Age, as diuerse haue not leafte lightly to surmise. But wée shall more plainly yet vnfolde this their fowle faulte, and by this reason weaken their inexcusable errour. If their yéere were but the tenth, or tweluth parte of oures, then consequently must it follow, that their yéere had not twelue Moneths, or at least that their Moneth had but three daies: whiche is false, for that the sayde texte of the Scripture saithe, that the generall Floudde began the seuentiene daye of the seconde Moneth: whence wee euidenily learne, that the moneths of that time, where none other then are oures. Concerninge the others whose opinion was, that a yeere in the firste Age, was but the fourth parte of one in this: their yéere beinge the space of thrée moneths on­ly, is proued by the saide péece of Scripture, to be in like manner false. For in the same place is it readde, that the Arke of Noë flottinge on the waters, arrested it self, the seuen and twentie daie of the seuenth Moneth, whiche (the waters fallen) first staide it selfe in the Mountaines of Armenia. Againe, after is it written, that the waters Genesis. 8. dayly diminished vntill the tenth Moneth, and that in the firste daie of the saide moneth, the toppes of highe Hilles and Mountaines, eche where discouered them selues. Whence nowe lie euident the errours of those, whiche measured for their yéere, the onely space of thrée [Page] Moneths, for that mention is here made bothe of the se­uenth and tenth. Then may wée well learne, that the auncient yéere had also twelue Moneths, as haue in this laste Age semblably oures, for that remembringe the tenth, it mindeth lesse nothing then the ende, or the last. And as ill also may that be saide, that their Moneth had but thrée daies onely: for of the seuen and twentie daye of the Moneth, plaine and expresse mention lieth open in the Texte. But least of all may it be supposed, that their daies had of length but twoo or thrée howers, for that the same Texte againe reporteth, that it raigned, and the windowes of Heauen were opened, by the full space of fourtie daies and fourtie nightes. So now then is it eui­dent that the daies were naturall of foure and twentie howres, the Moneths and yéeres none other then are oures, or at least very small and insensible was the dif­ference. Whiche thinge to that ende, I onely haue spo­ken, for that all men accompted the course of the Hea­uens as wée doo, so that this order amonge the learned, the Hebrewes I meane, as well as the Egyptians, hath benne reuerently eche where, and alwaies obserued: among whom Moyses the Historiographer was brought vp, Author of those holy Bookes, where these longe liues are recorded. Now if wée would subscribe to the opinion of many, who affirme the Hebrewes to haue measured their Moneths by the course of the Moone, geuinge forth their yéere complete by the twelue Moneths Lunaries, eche Moneth hauinge onely niene and twentie daies, & fouretene howres, or at the least very litle more or lesse, by meanes whereof, the yéere might ende aboute twelue daies shorter, then that whiche wée measure by the pas­sage of the Sunne, whiche is thrée hundreth, thirty and fiue daies, and sixe howres. This difference notwith­standinge, ne yet leaueth doubtfull, or of any parte vn­certaine, the longe and great Age of our forepassed Fa­thers: for a smal matter is it in niene hundred, or a thou­sande [Page 5] yéeres, to exempte twentie, or thirtie: for that the Monethes Lunaryes were not full thirtie dayes. Hence then conclude wée by this authoritie, certaine, that the nine hundred and thirtie yéeres whiche Adam liued, the nine hundred also of the others, were sutch, as were the hundred thrée scoare and fiuetiene of Abraham, and sutch also as are the thrée scoare and tenne, and foure scoare of of our time, for the moste parte, the extreame tearme, & ende of our lyues. There is also one other, and sem­blable consideration to be noted, to this pourpose allea­ged by S. Augustine. Admitte (saithe he) that in the Scri­ptures Li. 15. de Ciui­tate Dei. no mention be made, that Adam, and his Poste­ritie had any other Children before these that are in the saide Scriptures remembred: yet is it for a veritie assu­redly to be mainteined, that bothe before, and after, they had diuers, and sundrye, yea and that in theire tenderer Age also, then is any where in holy Write, in any wise specified. Wherof to yéelde more sufficient proufe, when it is saide, that Caine had builte to him a Cittie, the first of all others that euer was in this worlde (of whiche Io­sephus Iosephus, Lib. 1. de Antiqui­tatibus. reporteth, sayinge: That it was bewtified with diuers Towers, enuironed, & compast with assured good walles: to which he gaue the name of his Sonne Enoch, whiche was to him then very newely borne), it hathe small shewe of trothe, that there should then be but twoo or three men in the worlde onely, for that the Scriptures make mention of no more vnto vs: but to builde a Cittie the ayde of many men, was of necessitie to be required: the Texte notwithstanding remembreth onely the prin­cipall doers thereof, as appeareth, where it is saide, that their Sonnes, and Daughters begat also others, whose names in holy Write, are no where remembred. The semblable wée finde in the holy Euangelistes, as whereas S. Mathew treatinge of the Genealogie of Christe, accor­dinge to the Fleashe, beginneth from Abraham, thence descendinge vnto Dauid, sayinge: Abraham begat Isaac, [Page] remembringe not one woorde at all of Ismael, and incon­tinently followinge, Isaac begat Iacob, not speakinge of Esau, no, though they were in déede, as is euident: their Elders, lineally mindinge to descende vnto Dauid, who not beinge of the Line of Ismael, neither here remem­breth, or Ismael, or Esau. Straight againe, Iacob begat Iudas and his Brethren, Iudas not being of them the El­dest. In sutche sorte that treatinge of this Generation, he onely remembreth those, from whom, in right line he descendeth vnto Dauid. Sufficient proufe, to force the gaynesayers to thinke, that Moyses also vsed the sayde practise in his Historie, and that our Forefathers had al­so other issue, then these that are to vs remembred in the Scriptures.

¶ Of the excellency of Secretes, and in what forte a secrete ought to be couered, with certaine Examples seruinge to that purpose. Chap. 3.

ONe of the perfectest notes to knowe a Wise man, is, if he well can couer the Secrete committed to him by an other, holdinge euermore his owne af­fayres cloase and vnknowen. Who so of the time paste will reade the Auncient Histories, shall finde that a number of vertuous enterprises, miste farre, and fowly failed of their desired ende, in time of Peace, as well, as also in that of Warre, by the onely reuealinge of some deuised Secretes, whence infinite mischiefes hastely in­sued and followed. But amonge sundry examples, one wée finde excellent and surpassinge the reste, as imme­diatly, or directly, procéedinge from God: who to him selfe so well reserueth his Secretes, that he ne reuealeth to any the things that shall happen, or betide vs tomor­row: as also neither they that liued in y^e Ages past, could at any time Diuine any thinge, of the thinges this daye present. Whence it is easie for eche man to consider, that [Page 6] vnto God him selfe, to conceale wel a Secrete, is a thing agreant, acceptable, and pleasinge. Who though he haue for mans sake, to him discouered some thinge, yet to let, or preuent, his prouident intention, was neuer to any Creature yet of any parte possible. By meanes whereof the wise, and sage in al Ages, haue loued and learned, to conceale, and couer their Secretes. Wée reade that Cato the Censour confest oftentimes to his Friendes, that he of thrée thinges right often, and greuously re­pented him: The first, that he to any body had vnfolded his Counsels, or Secretes, but aboue al others especially vnto a Wooman: The seconde, that he had paste some iourneys by Sea, whiche he more safely might haue past with litle payne by the Lande: The third, that he idlely, and without fruite, had spente in his time any one daye. The twoo laste, merite well of all men to be noted, and the firste well aunsweareth to this our present purpose. Alexander on a time, receiuinge from his Mother cer­taine letters of importance, whiche after he had perused secretely with Ephestion, closde vp his lippes, with his secrete Seale or Signet, geuinge openly thereby to all men to vnderstand, that he to whom a man in his Coun­sels affieth him, shoulde euermore haue his mouthe well closde, and shutte vp. When the Kinge Lisimachus had offered vnto the Poëte Phillipides, what so should please him to aske or demaunde, he incontinently answeared: the greatest good turne that your grace can do mée, is not to communicate with me any parte of your Counsels. Antonius Sabellicus retcieth to the saide purpose, surely a notable and marueilous example. In the time of Pope Eugenius, saith he, the Senate of Venice had a Capitaine named Cremignoll, by whose Treason, and disloyalty, the Army of the Venitians was to their great harme dis­comfited. By meanes whereof the Senatours driuen to further consultation, how & in what sorte they should deale with this Capitayne, some beinge of the opinion [Page] presently to sende for him, to laye him in hold, and to d [...] iustice on him: but others yet then were of opinion con­trary. In fine therefore this was their conclusion, that presently, and for that time, they woulde dissemble the matter, as though they nothinge had felte of his barba­rous treacherie, attendinge notwithstandinge somme fitter occasion then that, mindinge euermore to execute him, that so iustly had deserued it. This their determi­nation was deferred for the space of eight Moneths, du­ringe whiche time (so well could eche man conceale these affaires) yée though they were in number many, many also moste assured friendes of the saide Cremignoll, some poore, and of meane condition, whiche to haue aduertised him of these newes, mighte haue receiued large & ample rewardes. These thinges not lettinge, their passed de­termination, was at the ende of these eight Moneths yet then close and Secrete, at whiche time it was decreed that he should come to Venice, where the Senate, with many woordes, & with faire countenances receiued him, whiche notwithstanding, the nexte morninge apprehen­ded him, and did him forth with for his disloyaltie to die. This then might serue for example, vnto al Senatours, Iudges, Counsellers, and others of our time: to the end that they better kéepe and conceale their affayres, then others some that haue reuealed thinges to their greate hurte, shame, and detriment. To the confusion of which, I shall here remember a pleasant discourse, recited by Aulus Gellius, Noctibus Atticis, as also by Macrobius in his Saturnales, & hath this. The Romaine Senatours enteringe into their Senate at Rome, accustomed eche one to bringe with him his Sonne, and that as soone as he was ones able to go, and to the Children of the Nobi­litie was graunted this Priuiledge, vntill they were fully seuentene yéeres olde: to the intente, that behol­dyng the reuerent order of their Parentes, they in time to come afterwarde, aduaunsed to ripe Age, and fitte for [Page 7] Gouernment, might the better be instructed in common and Publike affayres? So carefully besides were these Infantes instructed, that out of the Senate they neuer discouered, or disclosed any thinge. It happened on a daie, the Senate then sittinge on greate, and weighty matters, and besides their accustomed howre of depar­ture, longer continuynge that their assemble, the deter­mination notwithstanding reserued vntill the morrow, with straght inhibitiō, that in the meane time no worde were thereof in any respect spoken. But amonge other children then that day there present, there was one yong boye, the Sonne of Papyrius, of one of the most Honora­blest families in Rome. This Childe at night beinge re­turned home, his Mother first by intreatie, in flatteryng sorte desired him, to learne her, what matters were de­bated that daie in the Senate, consideringe their longe abode, besides the woonted manner. To whom the boye answeared that he might not well disclose it, conside­ringe it was prohibited, thereof to speake any thinge. Shée this mutche vnderstandinge (as is the common woonte, and vsage of Woomen) waxte then mutche more earnest thereof to féele some thinge, in sutche sorte, that neither, by faire woordes, nor flattery able to gette any thinge, woulde with threates, and roddes finally force him, to answeare her lesse honest, & hasty importunitie. Whose malice to auoide, this wise, and wilye Boye, ad­uising him wel of this pretie guile, saide: that this defer­rent was amongest them that daie carefully handled, whither as well for the state Publike, as also for the augmentation, and more spéedy increase of Mankinde, it mighte be more conducible to the whole Empire of Rome, that one Man shoulde haue twoo Wiues, or con­trary that one Wooman, should be geuen to twoo Hus­bandes, which bothe partes failed not, of most earnest, & assured Factours: who the nerte day (saithe he) will con­clude on some final & resolute determination. The which [Page] thinge, thus ones vnderstoode by the Moother, to whiche shée lightly added, bothe faithe and credite: moued there­with, & something perplexed, aduertiseth other Ladies, & Dames of these newes: to the ende they might lette, and distourne that deuise, of geuing twoo woomen, as wiues to one man, furtheringe the other parte to the vttermost of their mighte, to enritche eche Dame with twoo Hus­bandes at the least. On the morninge folowing a great number of the Romaine Matrones, were in flockes as­sembled at the Gates of the Senate, effectuously, and in many woordes requitinge theire Lordes not to passe on any so vniuste a Decrée, as to geue to one man in Marri­age twoo wiues, but rather to goe forewarde without staye to the contrary. The Senatours lesse wetinge to what pourpose this tended, amazed, in entrance, one af­ter the other into the Senate, demaunded eche of other, whence mighte procéede this so rare, and shamelesse in­ciuilitie, altogeather vnable, thereof to yéelde any cause, or reason. But in the ende, the yonge boye, the little Pa­pyrius, did them out of payne, layinge before them, what had chaunced him the night passed with his Moother, and howe that for feare of her thunderinge threates, and greate woordes, was forced for his discharge, in this pre­tie sorte to deceiue, and beguile her. The matter thus then vnderstoode by the whole House, they highly com­mended the secrete constancie in the childe. Concluding notwithstandinge, that thencefoorthe no Father shoulde bringe with him his childe into that place, besides the younge Papyrius, whiche onely after entered, to the in­tente Papyrius. that by these meanes, no secretes shoulde out of that House, or Place be reuealed. By the practise of this childe againe, maie the Elders of our Age, what to doo in their affayres, be very well aduertised: consideringe that if a Priuate Secrete be not to be disclosed, mutche lesse then a Common, and Publique Secrete, principal­ly emonge the Aged, and men of assured Iudgemente. [Page 8] M. Brutus, and Cassius, with the others all, their accom­plices, whiche had conspired the deathe of Iulius Caesar, supposinge it for the state Publique, no lesse expediente, then it also was necessary, for the maintenaunce of their Libertie, hauing laide their plotte, and deuised the man­ner howe to putte these thinges in perfecte execution, would notwithstandinge thereof imparte nothing with Cicero, one of their especial, and moste assured friendes, who also aboue others moste effectually desired the abo­lition of that tyrannie, not for any diffidence, or mistrust they had in him, but for that he onely was reputed a sim­ple, and badde Secretorie. A thinge assuredly woorthy of admyration, consideringe howe many they were, that conspired his Ruine, in howe priuie manner, and howe longe they concealed it, and that from theire approued, and beste beloued friende. Fuluius sommetime reuealed a greate Secrete to his wife, whiche, not longe before he had receiued of the Emperour Octauian: which after dis­couered by his saide wife, notis therof came immediatly to the Prince, who, for his ouer mutch lightnesse, in ma­ner most sharpe, rebuked him tauntingely. By meanes whereof, he entred into desperation, determining to doo presente force on him selfe: but firste charginge his wife with the greate wronge that shée hadde donne him: who saide, that he no reason, nor iuste cause had at all to grieue with her, consideringe the many dayes that they had lyued togeather: he yet had not felte her fickle com­plexion, or otherwise knowing it, that so londely would abuse his owne knowledge therein, reposinge his trust, and affiance in her. Wherefore thoughe her Husbande were the cause of this errour, yet determined shée to suf­fer the firste paine due therefore, and with the same laid violente handes on her selfe, after whose deathe, poore Fuluius did the same. It is readde in the Life of the Em­perour Nero, that his deathe beinge conspired on a time Nero. in Rome (a thinge moste expediente, as well for the Ro­maines, [Page] as also for all others his rare cruelties conside­red) hée, to whom it belonged by couenaunte, to doo the déede, mette by happe a certaine Prisoner, whiche by or­dinaunce of the tyrannie, was then on passage, to place of Execution, and consideringe with him selfe, that the wicked, & peruerse nature of the Emperour was suche, that none, whome he apprehended at any time, escaped deathe, and therefore the Prisoner, whiche sorrowfully lamented, mighte no waye escape his bloudy, and mer­cilesse hande, drewe somethinge nighe him (not remem­bringe that his affayres demaunded secrete dealinge) Praye to God (saithe he) that it maie please him to pre­serue thée vntil to morrowe, for if thou doo passe this day vnto an ende, I will assure thée, that Nero shall not doo thée to die. Whiche thinge vnderstoode by that misera­ble Prisoner, who incontinently suspected that whiche in déede was, séeking the only meanes to saue his owne life, declared the matter foorthewith to the Emperoure, aduisinge him to take good héede to him selfe. By occa­sion whereof, Nero immediately apprehended him, that had comforted him in sutche sorte, the aboue remembred Prisoner, and by chaunge of tormentes, forced him to confesse the Coniuration. By reason whereof, him selfe was cruelly executed, theire Determination made frustrate, and voide. Pline recoumpteth the plaine con­trarye of Anaxarchus, who beinge apprehended for the Lib. 7. Cap. 23. semblable matter, curragiously bitte of his tongue, with countenaunce vnappalled, to the intente that he neuer would disclose therewith any Secrete, spittinge it man­fully into the face of the Tyrante. The Athenians curi­ously framed a certaine Image of Iette, in the honour of a common wooman, who hight Lyonna, in memory of her excellente constancie, for that shée so wel, and so secretly Lyonna. had kepte, bothe silence, and consell in a certaine conspi­racie: whiche Image was framed without any tongue, the better to geue foorthe the force of a Secrete. In like [Page 9] manner the Vassaules, or Seruauntes of Plancus, are in Plancus Val. li. 6. Cap. 8. this place for iuste cause to be remembred, for that no tormentes sufficed to make them confesse any thinge of theire Maister to the enimies, whiche soughte him, and woulde haue slayne him, where so euer they mighte haue founde him. The Page of Cato, that famous Oratoure, Cato. priuie of a faulte committed by his Maister, was tor­mented in Racke, to confesse thereof sommethinge, and yet for what so euer might be done to him in the world, neuer woulde he be broughte to witnesse againste him any thinge. Q. Curtius remembreth, that the Persians Q. Curtius. had a Lawe, more straightly to pounishe, then for any o­ther faulte, these that vnaduisedly reuealed any Secret. For confirmation whereof, he saithe, that the Kinge Da­rius, vanquished by Alexander, not knowinge howe to escape, hidde him selfe: but no paine, or pounishment on the one side, or hope of rewarde on the other, might moue them, that knewe where he was, any thinge to speake of him. And againe he remēbreth, that the Persians main­taine for an opinion, that no man should, in the man lesse close and secrete, affye him selfe, in cases of charge, and importance. To be a good Secretorie then, is in all thinges necessarye, especially in Warre, that whiche all aunciente Captaines in the Age paste, well obserued. Philippe the sonne of Antigonus, Successour to Alexan­der, demaunded of his Father in presence of certaine o­thers, when, & at what houre the Campe should marche. To whom the Kinge in highe disdeigne answeared: Arte thou so deafe, that thou fearest, thou shalte not heare the Trumpet, as wel as others. Letting him thence plainly to vnderstande, that by that his Demaunde, he had com­mitted an erroure, whiche merited no answeare in the presence of others. There was a Tribune in y^e Hoast of Cecilius Metellus, a Captaine Romaine, which asked his C. Metellus, Determination, vpon certaine pointes in their warres. To whome he answeared: If I wiste that my Shurte [Page] knewe, whereon I haue resolued, I woulde foorthwith and out of hande burne it. Horace, in his Lawes of Feastinge, commaundeth that eche man kéepe well to him selfe, what so euer shall there be saide, or spoken. By meanes whereof, the Athenians had emonge them sutche an vsage, that when so euer they mette togeather at any Feaste, the moste aunciente, should shewe to the others, the Gate, whereat they entered, sayinge: aduise yée well, that no one woorde hence passe, that at this pre­sente shall emonge vs be spoken. The firste thinge that Pythagoras learned his Schollers, was to holde theire peace, and carefully to kéepe silence, so that he euer kept them a certaine time without speakinge, to the intents they mighte be learned well to kéepe a Secrete, and ne­uer to speake, but when time requires. Which sufficeth to learne vs, that to conceale a Secrete, is of all others a moste principall, and rare Vertue. For proufe hereof, when Aristotle was sommetimes demaunded, whiche was the moste difficill, and hardest thinge in the world, he answeared, that it was to holde our peace, and talke not. S. Ambrose also to this purpose in his Offices, lay­eth emonge the principal foundations of Vertue, the pa­tience that man shoulde vse in silence. The Romaines emonge other the vanities of their Goddes, had a God­desse Pline, Lib. 3. Cap. 5. of Silence, whiche had to name, Angeronna, which they painted euermore in token of silence, with finger continually preste on her mouthe. Pline also writeth, that on the xxii. of December they Sacrificed still vnto her. Which also witnesse M. Varro, Solinus, and Macro­bius. A God of Silence was in manner semblable ho­noured of the Aegyptians, whiche, they, as the others, with finger in mouthe purtrayed. In like sorte hath Ca­tullus, and Ouid described this Idolle. And hence is well knowen, howe thei reuerenced a good Secretorie, in that they adored these Idolles as Goddes. Salomon in his Prouerbes saith, That a Kinge should drinke no Wine, [Page 10] for other reason none, saue that, who dronke is, can in no wise kéepe, or Silence, or Counsell: and supposeth him further moste vnwoorthye to Raigne, that cannot well couer his Secretes of importance. And againe he saith, That who so discloseth a Secrete committed to him, is a plaine, and open Traytour: and who so well kéepeth it, is a loyall, and faithfull Friende.

¶ Howe commendable a thinge it is, to talke, or speake fewe. Chap. 4.

FEwe times to talke, and then to be shorte, and Sen­tentious, is a thinge moste rare, and commendable, neuer sufficiently praised of the Wise, and Learned. Salomon saithe, That mutche talke is neuer without of­fence, and who so wel brioleth, & moderateth his tongue is prudent. And againe, He that maistereth his tongue, saueth his soule: but who so bableth inconsiderately, ly­eth open, and in daunger to infinite discommodities. Here mighte be alleaged the Testimonies of sundrye wise, and learned: but of somme parte maye suffice that texte of the Gospell, That wée shall assuredly yéelde ac­coumpte of euery idle woorde. The Lacedemonians e­monge all other Nations, pleasured most to be Senten­tious, and briefe: in sutch sorte, that when any vsed fewe woordes in talke, they saide, that he discoursed Lacede­monianlike. Philippe, the Father of Alexander, on a time sente to them, that he woulde passe ouer some parte of their Country with his Armye, and that they spéedely woulde certiāe him, in what sorte he shoulde passe, ei­ther as their friende, or as their open enimie. To whom they answeared in fewe, without any heape of woordes: Neither as the one, nor as the other. Artaxerxes in man­ner semblable, Kinge of Asia, sente them woorde, that he woulde comme to spoyle, and sacke their Countrie. To whiche their threates, they in none other sorte answea­red, [Page] but, come hardly, & doo what thou wilte. Me thinkes they coulde not in longe proses of woordes haue framed him an answeare more fitte then that. The Embassa­dours of the Samyans pronounced on a time, weary, and longe Orations in their Consistorie: in sutche sorte, that they mislikinge of theire tedious discourses, finally fra­med them in fewe, this answeare. Wée haue foregotten the firste parte of that you haue vttered: and as concer­ninge the reste, wée doo not vnderstand it. Also to other Embassadours of the Abderites, as well for that they were too curious in vtteringe theire Embasye, as also that they demaunded in greate haste theire dispatche, by Agis the Kinge of the Lacedemonians, was in this sorte answeared. Yée shall saie, returned vnto the Abderites from vs, that wée haue geuen you so longe audience, as it pleased you here to speake. On a certaine time, one talkinge with Aristotle, continued his discourse be­yonde measure, so longe, that in the ende, him selfe fée­linge Aristotle. his owne errour, and faulte, concluded abruptly, with his excuse, sayinge: Pleaseth it you to pardon mée, that I haue fayled, in vsinge so many woordes before so graue a Philosopher. To whome Aristotle framed this so courteous an answeare: Friende, it néeded not, that thou shouldest haue craued in this ease, any pardon, for I neuer thoughte otherwise then to pardon thée vnde­maunded. Whiche answeare, as well serued, as it was fittinge to that pourpose. An other example reade wée Liuicus. of those that robbed, and slewe the Poete Liuicus, for as they oppreste him in wide, and open fieldes farre from companye, and out of all sighte, he espied a companye of Cranes flyinge ouer his heade, to whiche with lowde voice, he spake these his last woordes: O Cranes, yée shal be witnesses of the wronge that is here donne mée. After whose deathe, this matter laye yet many dayes vnkno­wen, till on a certaine time after, it chaunced a solemne Conuente of people was made in the saide place: emonge [Page 11] whom, were also presente the twoo Murtherers of Liui­cus, whiche hearinge, as before, Cranes cryinge ouer them: the one aduised his felowe thereof in laughter me­rily (supposinge in the meane time not to haue bene per­ceiued of any) Hearken companion, beholde here the true witnesses of the blonde, and deathe of Liuicus. It chaun­ced, that one nighe them, hearing these woordes, and not wel perceiuinge what they mighte signifie, suspected foorthewith that whiche in déede was, aduectisinge the Maiestrates of that whiche he had hearde. To conclude, theise twoo Roysters were incontinentely apprehen­ded, and accordinge to equitie, Iustice was donne on them: whiche happened by woordes paste them without aduise, or regarde. For this cause a man oughte princi­pally to be ware of that whiche he will saye, before it es­cape him, with consideration also before whome, and in what place. Hecates a Greeke Oratoure, was on a time Hecates. reproued, for that sittinge at a Bankette, he woulde sa [...]e nothinge. Whiche vnderstoode by Archimidas, answea­red in this sorte for him: Arte thou ignorante, that one, that can so well speake as he, knoweth not also the time to kéepe silence? Infinite examples, out of diuers Histo­ries might be borrowed, of Times, Daungers, Infama­tions, and Deathe: in whiche, by too mutch talke, menne eftsoones haue bene entrapped. Wherefore wée shoulde be circumspecte, and wise, that before wée doo our mouth open to speake, wée well consider of it, whether it maye be to vs preiudiciall, or not. The greate Cato, surnamed Censorius, was euen from his Cradle verye sober in woordes: wherof, at times reproued of many, as one that obserued to austere silence, saide: I grieue not at all to be argued of Silence, for that no man shall haue occasion to reproue me of my lyuinge: for then, and not before wil I breake into woordes, when I haue learned to speake these thinges that maye not be concealed. Isocrates in his Booke written to Demonichus, saith: That there are [Page] twoo times conueniente to speake in: the one, when to speake is in déede very necessary: the other, when one speaketh of these thinges, he well knoweth. Plutarche Plutarche. compareth those men that talke, not knowinge wherof, vnto voide, and emptie Vessells, whiche geue foorthe a greater noyse, then these that are filled. Plainely in­structeth vs the Philosopher Zeno, that for other cause none hath Nature lente vs twoo eares, & one tongue, but Zeno. only to speake fewe, in bearinge, and receiuinge mutch. Horace aduiseth vs farre to flye their companies, which Horace. pleasure mutche in many demaundes, and questions, for that they commonly be captious Ianglers. Suetoni­us recoumpteth in confirmation of that, that was also re­ported Suetonius. by others, that the principall cause that moued Octauian so mutche to phantasie, and fauour his Minion Mecaenas, was, that he was very secret, and not prodigal of woordes. Cicero affirmeth that Cato the Oratoure, Cicero. neuer woulde commit to Paper, any his Orations, saie­inge: That if it euer happened him to repent him of that he had saide, yet that, that he had written, should not ag­grauate his sorrowes, for that he neuer might denie the thinge, that his Pen should witnesse againste him. But to the ende, that arguinge here, the lesse aduised, and runninge tongues of others, I séeme not to incurre the said errour my selfe. I ende with the Ppilosopher with­out any more: concludinge, that it oftentimes repenteth mée to haue spoken, but to haue helde my peace, that I re­member, neuer.

¶ Of the straunge opinion of the Aegyptians, touchinge the tearme, or ende of Mannes Life: limitinge the same by the proportion of his harte. Chap. 5.

THat whiche I shall saie here, will séeme vnto ma­ny very straunge and newe, but vnto moste men fonde, and ridiculous: for that it is a thinge very [Page 12] difficill to be proued. Wherefore neither will I binde my selfe to the probation thereof, althoughe the authori­tie of those that séeme to approue it, shoulde either yéelde it a trothe, or vnto a truthe sommethinge semblable, and likinge. Pline, and Marcus Varro, writinge of the time Pline, Lib. 11. Cap. 36. M. Varro. of Mannes Life, affirme, that the learned Aegyptians had founde out by experience, that Man according to the order of nature could not lyue aboue an hundred yéeres, and that if any reachte to a further, or elder age, it was by somme particulare influence, & force of the Starres: a thinge in the woorkes of Nature verye straunge, and marueilous. Hence grounded they their foundation, vpon the harte of man: in whiche by often, and common Anotomyes, they founde, and perceiued certaine mar­ueilous Secretes. For saide they, when Man was of the age of one yéere, then poised his harte onely twoo of their Drammes: when be was twoo yéeres olde, then poised it foure, and so foorthe howe many yéeres so euer he liued, by proportion still grewe his harte to be of like number of Drammes. In sutche sorte, that beinge ones fiftie yéeres olde, Mannes harte shoulde wieghe then an hun­dred Drammes: and from thence, by like proportion still he looseth of his weight, eche yéere twoo Drammes, euen as before he increased. So that at the ende of an hundred yéeres, the Harte by continuall decrease, is becomme no­thinge: so that consequently of necessitie, Man then must die, if before he be not preuented by somme accidentall occasion, whiche bothe can, and dooth commonly in suche manner abridge our dayes, that very fewe of vs liue the one halfe to experiment this matter. Though to somme this matter séeme straunge, yet be wée assured, that the Aegyptians helde it for certaine: as plainely haue leafte vs the aboue remembred Authoures. Of our time also Ludouicus Celius Rodianus, alleaginge in like manner to that pourpose, Dioscorides, who remembreth thereof sommethinge, emonge other many matters: to whome [Page] also commeth Petrus Crinitus, in his Booke of Honest Li. 10. Antiquarum Lectionū. Cor. Ag. Li. 2. de Secretis Phi­losophiae. Discipline. Galiotus de Nargni, in his Booke of Man, as also in like sorte Cornelius Agrippa. I was desirous to remember here all these Authours, for that the mat­ter mighte otherwise hardly be digested. Nowe remai­neth it to be déemed of, as to the Reader it shal be liking. And nowe that wée haue taken on vs to speake of Mans Harte, and of the excellencies of that one little parte, to the intente wée treate not of one pointe alone, it shalbe expediente that wée learne, as recoumpteth to vs Ari­stotle, that Mannes Harte lyeth lodged in the leafte side Aristotle. of his bodye: but in other Creatures is founde euermore in the middle of theire breste, whiche he recordeth in his firste Booke of the nature of Beastes. Further emonge the Philosophers Naturall, it is mainteined for an opi­nion Common, that the first parte that commeth in Man to any fourme, or proportion, is the Harte, the roote of al others his partes, the fountaine, and only springe of na­turall heate: as also the last member that looseth his mo­uinge, and dyeth in him. It is assuredly a moste delicate, and daintye member, and su [...]che as maie not be touched, but Man foorthewith dyeth. Pline recordeth a straunge Pline. Li. 11. Cap. 37. matter, which he for true affirmeth, sayinge: That there was one founde, whiche had his Harte roughe and hea­rye: and further, that who so hathe the same, is euermore valiante, and curragius. Whiche thinge was founde true (beinge opened) in Aristomenes, who with his owne Aristomenes. hande in one Battaile, had slayne thrée hundred Lacede­monians: who after hauinge escaped, by his rare force, sundrye daungers, and afterwarde dyinge in his Bedde quietly, was opened, and his Harte founde, as is aboue­saide, hearye. Suetonius Tranquillus, in the Life of Ca­ligula, as also the saide Pline, togeather affirme, that who so dieth, donne to deathe with Poyson, his Harte will at no time consume, or waste with fire: whiche was proued in Germanicus, Father of Caligula: whiche also happe­neth Germanicus. [Page 13] to them that die of the Fallinge Euill. Further it is euidente, that the force of laughinge, or Laughter it selfe, resteth in the little cheastes, or seates of the Harte. For proufe whereof, the aunciente Historians writinge of certaine Swoordeplayers in Rome, auouch, that these, by meane of whose woūdes, the very thréedes, or vaines of theire hartes fell out, made chaunge of this life, with extreame Laughter. Also as this qualitie of Laughter procéedeth from the harte, so Melancoly thence sembla­bly taketh his beginninge: as in like sorte, all vertuous, and naughty imaginations. All woordes firste there in­gender, and beginne. Many also mainteine, that it is the chiefe seate, and principall restinge place of the Soule. Whiche seemeth to be wel confirmed by our Sauiour him selfe, sayinge: That wicked imaginations, and naughtie thoughtes procéede directly from the hart, and that, that entereth at the mouthe sayleth not the man, for that these be but thinges indifferēt. Further Venerable Beda Beda. in his Commētaries on S. Marke, remembreth the chiefe seate of the Soule, not to be in the Brayne, as maintei­neth Plato, but rather in the Harte, as learneth vs our Sauiour.

¶ Of the firste beginninge, and springe of Warre: as who were they, that firste inuaded straunge Countries, with the Inuen­tours of certaine Weapons, and Armes: who also first founde the vse of Artillerie. Chap. 6.

IT is euident, that Warre, & discord emong men, tooke their firste holde, or staye, on the sinne of our Forefa­thers: as appeareth, in that one of y^e first borne sonnes of Adam, who leaft not to laie violent, & bloudye handes on his Brother: so that loosinge euen here our Originall Iustice, malice and discorde afterwarde neuer leaft their raigne emongest vs. In sutche sorte, that Warre, and Enimitie began euen emonge the firste borne. But the [Page] science of Warre, or the Arte militarie it selfe, with the perfect māner to order many in Battaile against many, (for that the first fountaine thereof is of sinne, the mid­dle also continually, and for the moste parte the ende is nothinge but crueltie, bloude, and miserable impietie) is nowe in sutche woorthy, and Honorable reputation, that the Arte it selfe, and the well skilled therein, are farre nowe aduaunced aboue the Fautours of all other pru­dent, and industrious exercises, as moste estéemed aboue all other vertuous practises in the Worlde. Diodorus Siculus, with others, affirme that Mars was the first that ordered, and deuised, the subtile polices of Warre, for which causes the Poëtes termed him (but fabulously) the God of Battayle. Cicero attributeth the Honour of this Lib. 3. de Na­tura Deorum. inuention to the Goddesse Pallas, by meanes whereof she was named (as he saithe) Bellona, vnto whiche opinion accorded diuerse Poëtes, gaynesayinge the opinion of that firste, and auncient springe of Warre, whiche Iose­phus in his first booke of his Antiquities, euen in the first Age, & before the Floudde, attributeth vnto Tubal, the moste experte therein, in his time, who by his industri­ous, and painefull practises, perfected him selfe in the guiles, and aduauntages of Warre. Others somme sup­pose that it first began after the floudde, so that to learne the truth it séemeth very difficill, who was the very first beginner, and Father of this matter. Whiche how so euer it was, it well appeareth, that in the beginninge, Warres and dissentions onely grewe amonge Princes, more for Ambition, & desire of Honour, then any where to impouerishe or spoyle one the other. Iustine, and Tro­gus Pompeius, reporte that Nynus King of the Assyriens, was the firste that leadde an Hoste out of his Countrie, for Auarice, & to Conquere the Territories of an other. Fabian the Pretor, affirmeth well the same, in the begin­ninge, of that little parte, that resteth vnto vs, of his Hi­storie: to whiche also condescendeth S. Augustine. This [Page 14] Nynus so bare him selfe in this practise of Warre, that he subdued in shorte time many Citties, and Countries, whiche he lefte in quiet possession to his Successours: whiche continued from time to time, vnto his posteritie, accordinge to the computation of S. Augustine, Eusebius, and Diodorus Siculus, thirtene hundred yéeres, descen­dinge euermore from the Father vnto the Sonne, with out defaulte at any time of Heyres in right line, by the number of thirtie and thrée Kinges, and as some others reporte, thirtie and sixe: vntill in the ende it came into the gouernment, of that Monster Sardonapalus, in whose time this so longe continued an Empire, came then into the handes and handlinge of the Medes. This Nynus then, as recorde these Authours, was the firste Conque­rer, knowen in all the worlde, although wée reade of cer­taine Warres before him: but it appeareth as wée haue saide, that it was not, to possesse & Conquere the Coun­tries of others, but for pryde onely, and glory of the worlde: as is written of Vessor Kinge of Egypte, who paste out of his Countrie againste Tanais Prince of the Scythians, which mette him, and gaue him Battaile, and remayned victorious, who not withstandinge neuer de­posed him from his Crowne, or Countrie, as had practi­sed the aboue remembred Nynus. Wherefore, he maye be thought the first, that euer gaue foorthe any Lawes of Armes, grauntinge to the Conquerer all the possessions and treasures of the Conquered. Touchyng their Wea­pons, wherewith they inuaded, defended, putting in ex­ecution their wrouthfull, angry malice, and yre, it is to be supposed, that in the beginninge they vsed none ine­qualitie of Armes, but as the Poete Lucretius recoump­teth, they first began with the nailes and téeth, and after that to acquainte them with the staffe, & stoanes, whiche this daie yet are onely vsed of certaine barbarous Na­tions, not yet by the malice of man, hauinge drawne out of the earthe yron, to doo force, and oppression on their [Page] Neighbours. Pline writeth that in the firste Warres of Lib. 7. Cap. 16. the Moores, againste the Aegyptians, they entered the fielde onely with Pikes, and Iauelins, and after that by litle and litle, it came within fewe dayes to sutche passe, and ende, that menne were prouided of sutche straunge kindes of Armes and Armoures, that it was rare to be­holde, the one still to kill and murther the other. Of the inuentours of these thinges, wée finde diuerse opinions. The Poetes in their Fables, attribute the inuention of these Weapons vnto Mars. Pline reporteth that the E­toliens were the first that euer bare Launce in fielde, and addeth also, that the Lacedemonians firste founde the Pertisan, the Sworde, & for defence also the Headpéece. But Herodotus saith, that the Aegyptians firste framed the Tergotte and Sallette: As also Midas of Misena, the Lib. 4. Coate of Maale, and the Breaste plate, and finally one of Etolia, the firste Darte that was vsed. It is saide that Pantasilia Quéene of the Ammasones, firste fought in fielde with Gleaue, or Halbarte: And Scythus Sonne of Iupiter, firste founde, how to vse the Darte or Arrowe: but others somme thinke the contrarie, attributinge it to Persea. And Diodorus, not alone, asscribeth it to Apol­lo. The inhabitantes of the Iles, Baleares, (called nowe in our time Maiorque and Minorque) as hath Vigetius, in his Booke of the Arte of Warre, were they that firste founde to caste Stoanes with the Slinge. So that men accordinge to the time, their affayres, and varietie of in­uention, haue searchte, and founde out sundrie sortes of Weapons. And this hath it chaunced, in my phantasie eftsoones, that in one, and the same time, in places farre distant, the same kinde of weapons haue benne framed by diuerse, not one, at all wetinge of others deuise or practise. Wherefore the lesse to annoye the Reader, I leaue to geather more variable opinions, whiche well might serue here not impertinent to our pourpose: as to recoumpte in like sorte, who were the inuentours of so [Page 15] many straunge instrumentes and deuises of Warre, to shake, and ouerthrowe greate Walles, and Fortresses. Eusebius affirmeth, that Moyses was inuentour of these Lib. 9. de pre­paratione Euā ­gelica. huge and straunge Engins. Plutarche addeth, that Ar­chilas Tarentinus, and Eudoxus were the firste that re­duced this Arte to a perfection, and that thei deuised sun­drie instrumentes, to weaken walles and great houses. The Beliers, as hathe also Pline, founde the vse of the Swoorde at the siege of Troye: but as Vitruuius repor­teth, it rather was at the siege of Athens. The Scor­pion wherewith they vsed to throwe huge, and greate Stoanes, as againe hath Pline, was firste deuised by the inhabitantes of Crete and Syria. The Phoenicians firste aduantaged them selues with the sharpe, and pearsinge Rebute: but these al were trifles of little weight and im­portaunce, farre surpassed in crueltie, by the inuention of Shotte, in diuerse sortes, and Artillerie. The first in­uention of whiche, somme attribute vnto an Almayne, whose name wée finde nowhere, as vnwoorthy of me­morye. As reporte Blondus, and R. Volateranus, the first that vsed shotte to theire behoofe and profite, were the Venetians, againste the Inhabitantes of Genua, in the yéere of our Lorde a thousande, thrée hundred, and foure scoare. Howbeit, in my iudgement, this inuention was yet more Auncient, for that wée Reade in the Cronicle of Alphonsus, the eleuenth Kinge, by iuste accompte, of Ca­stille, who at the Conqueste of the Citie Algazare found, while he besieged the Towne, in the yéere of our redem­ption, a thousand thrée hundred fortie and thrée, that the Moores from within, threw out among the enimies cer­taine thunders through longe Morters, or Troughes of yron: and this was almost fortie yéeres before that, that Blondus recordeth. Againe before that, it is reported by the saide Alphonsus, whiche semblably conquered To­letum in Spayne, that one Petrus Bishop of Logio, wri­teth that in a certaine Battayle donne on the Sea, be­twixt [Page] the Kinge of Tunnye, and Morus Kinge of Sibilia, whose faction Alphonsus fauoured, that y^e Tunnigeniens threwe on their enemies, certaine Bōbardes or Tunnes of fire: whiche by all likelihoode might be déemed Artil­lerie, although it were not in sutche perfection, as now, and that was foure hundred yéeres before and more.

¶ For what cause Man goeth vpright: as also why fastinge, then when he hath Eaten, he euermore is founde more weighty, and poysant: and why in conclusion he poyseth more dead then liuinge, with others, sutche not impleasant Accidents. Chap. 7.

OF the Composition of man sundry are the conside­rations, of whiche Lactantius Firmianus a parte, as also somme others, haue written, large, & wery volumes: in whiche one thinge, amonge others many, requireth somme exact & particuler examination. Which is, that it hath pleased God to frame al Creatures, Man onely excepted, with the heade hanginge, and stoupinge forewarde, their eies still fixte, or for the moste parte, on the Earthe: and not only brute Beastes, but al Plantes and Bodyes vegetable. As is séene in trées, whiche haue their heades, or rootes faste lockte, or hidde in the earthe, the bowes, or braunches mounting into y^e ayre on highe. But Man he hathe created with eies bente towardes Heauen, his body straighte and righte, his face aduaunst on highe, Goddes woorkes still to contēplate, & consider. And althoughe for this matter, it mighte suffice to al­leage the onely prouidence of God, yet séemeth it to sa­uour of somme Mysterie, or Secrete, and therefore woor­thy of somme further consideration. Our Disposition then moste assuredly learneth vs, yea by moste plaine, and euidente signe, that wée are not created, and framed for the Earthe, to haue in admyration thinges base, and transitorie: but to be busied in things on highe & heauen­ly. [Page 16] Of whiche with Man, no other Creature maye com­municate: vnwoorthy, and incapable of sutche, and so great benefites: Man only for them, euen from the firste ordeined. God hathe created all creatures with heade hanginge, and bente still to the grounde, to shewe, that he to Man hathe geuen ouer them, all kinde of Rule, and Authoritie to order them. Whiche thinge is well no­ted of Lactantius Firmianus, who saithe: That God hauinge determined to create Man for Heauen, al other Creatures vnreasonable, onely for the Earthe: he made Man a creature capable of aduice, righte, and straighte, naturally ordeined, and instituted to Celestial Contem­plation: to the intente he onely mighte reuerence him, that he mighte honour the place of his firste springe, and beginninge, that he mighte acknowledge the Coun­trie that he is borne to: shapinge other Creatures bow­inge and stoopinge, as hauinge no parte, or participation of Heauen. Aristotle, who had of the true faithe no fée­linge, Arist. Lib. 2. de Natura Ani­malium. saithe: That onely Man, emonge other Creatures marcheth vprighte: for that him selfe, and his Countrye are not Terreane, but Celestiall. And further, That the office of Diuine mindes, is to vnderstande, and per­ceiue, in which function, neither shoulde Man haue kno­wen how skilfully to haue ordered him selfe, had he bene of a lumpishe, heauye, or vnfittinge shape: for that the weightie masse, and huge lumpe of the bodye, yéeldeth the memorie, and recordation with other partes of the Soule, insensible. S. Thomas, who leafte no matter vn­touched, or vnexamined, in his Exposition of Youtke, and Age, hathe to this pourpose, sutche woordes as fo­lowe. For twoo causes was Man formed righte, behol­dinge Heauen: The one, for that he shoulde be the perfe­ctest of other Creatures, and sutche as shoulde taste, or sauer of all Celestial qualities. The other, for that in the proportion, and temperature of his bodye, he is more hoate then any other Creature, and that the nature of [Page] heate is euermore to mounte, and ascende vpwardes. Other Creatures, as far inferiour, as also lesse perfecte, lesse participate in these Celestiall qualities, and lesse naturall heate haue they in any sorte to aduaunce them. For whiche cause, neither are they of the same frame, or proportion with Man. It séemeth, that in this place S. Thomas folowed the opinion of the Platonistes, who af­firmed that naturall heate, with sundrie the Vitall Spi­rites in Man (in whiche he more aboundeth then any o­ther liuinge Creature) are the onely causes that he mar­cheth vprightly, aduaunced in manner so perfect, and so séemely, for that by the force, and vigor of the foresaide powres and bloudde, he addresseth him selfe vpwardes. That which his indeuour more perfectly to accomplishe, he further againe is ayded by the true proportion, and mixture of the Elementes: of whiche he borroweth his firste springe, and beginninge with sutche equalitie, and conueniente weighte, that he fitly, and commodiously walketh, addressing him selfe to looke on the marueilous frame of Heauen. Nowe then sith Man, of parte, by the perfection of his Soule, as also of parte, by the excellent feauture of his Bodye, is beroughte with the loue, and cōtemplation of Heauen, he should only woorke, thinke, and deuise thinges Heauenly, & Spirituall, disdeininge the Earthe, with all thinges thereon transitorye. But wée be in sutch sorte enamoured with the vile considera­tion of worldly pleasures, that for the most part hauing our eies, and countenaunce bente to Heauen, the harte lyeth soylde belowe vpon the Earthe. Againe concer­ning Man, of whom wée haue here spoken, Pline remem­breth an other thinge, whiche thoughe it be not of sutche importance, as are the others, yet may it of somme parte contente, and please the Reader, especially to whome ex­perience hathe not reuealed it, founde notwithstanding daily to be true, of all sutche as please carefully to expe­rimente it. He saithe, that Man dead, poyseth more then [Page 17] when he liued: that whiche he also affirmeth in all other kinde of Creatures. Againe he saithe, that Man hauing eaten in the morninge, poyseth lesse, then when he was before fastinge. Whiche thinge is by Erasmus in a cer­taine Probleame of his confirmed. Who also in the same remembreth other somme things not vnwoorthy of rea­dinge: yéeldinge the same reasons, with Pline, for the confirmation thereof, grounded on the consideration of the Vitall Spirites, and Ayre, as is aboue rehearsed. Whereas the contrarye séemeth to haue somme shewe of truth, for that who so shal take at any time his refection, layeth vp within him selfe, the poyse and weight therof. Notwithstandinge, it is euident, that the refection al­waies increaseth the vitall Spirites, whiche solace, and comforte man, increasinge, and multiplyinge naturall heate within him. Hence cometh it, that when one man from the grounde assayeth to lifte an other, the lifted is then more weighty, when he dothe breathe or conuaye his winde out, not redrawinge it agayne for the small time of that practise: the whiche when he retayneth in his body & kéepeth in, is founde by meane thereof, more light then he was before: Againe who so faste runneth, neither maye he for that time either breathe, or blowe mutche, for restrayning his breathe, he findeth him selfe more agile and quicke, for that the Ayre beinge an Ele­ment very lighte, desireth to rise vp, and to mounte a­lofte, where his naturall place is, of reste or aboade: as experience may learne vs, in a skinne or bladder, whiche empty, & not pufte vp, throwne into the water, sinketh continually, & resteth on the bottome: but full of winde, or blowne out, swimmeth still on highe. Pline in the same place againe recordeth, that mans body in the wa­ter drowned, and after a time risinge from the bottome on highe, if it be a man, he euermore hath his face turned from the Earthe vpwardes, but if it be a woman, shée continually floteth in manner and sorte contrary, which [Page] thinge Nature hath onely in sutche wise prouided, to co­uer the partes of woomen, whiche alwaies should be se­crete. Againe, also an other reason maye be geuen, for that wooman before, by meane of her pappes or breastes, is founde more weighty, but man behinde, bicause of his shoulders, more grosse or greater, then are those of woo­men.

¶ Of the excellency of the Heade, aboue all other members of the Body, and that it is not good to haue a little Heade, or strayte Breaste, as also whence it is, that wee accompte it courtesie, to take of the Cappe, or Hatte, in salutinge an o­ther. Chap. 8.

IF it be an especiall Prerogatiue, amonge all other Creatures, graunted vnto man, that he shoulde haue his body, of sutche perfect, and sutche desired shape, his face aduaunced of Heauen euermore, & heauenly things to aduice him. Then assuredly the Heade, which in man farre surpasseth, bothe all, and euery parte, which also is the highest among the others all, ought by reasons lawe the aduauntage to haue, and preeminence in eche respect and case. As in déede eche parte imployeth his skilfull payne, loyally to garde, & kéepe the Heade from harme, in sutche sorte, that when so it is in daunger, or any pe­rill els, forthwith the Foote, the Hande, the Arme with the others all, toyle to defende the Heade from all griefe and annoye, for in the Heade consisteth the well beinge of them al: and the Heade if it be pained, eche parte com­plaineth forthwith. S. Ambrose especially commendyng that parte of the body, saythe: That the frame or com­position of man, representeth of somme parte, the face or countenance of the World: and as Heauen thereof is the chiefe portion most eminent and bewtiful, the Fyre, the Ayre, with the other Elementes, to it inferiour: so the Heade in respecte surmounteth eche other parte in Man, [Page 18] as Quéene, Mistresse, or Empresse all alone: whiche as a holde or Castle, in the middle of a Citie, builte on somme Rocke alofte, wherein, bothe Counsell and aduise conti­nually doo lodge them, where power and authoritie haue chosen to them their beinge. And Salomon, the eies of the sage, are in the inner partes of his Heade. Lactantius Firmianus saithe, that God hath geuen to man his Head in place aboue, to the intent he shoulde haue rule & Em­pire ouer Beastes. Galene to it attributeth principali­tie Gal. Lib. 1. de Morbis acutis. ouer all other partes in man: and Plato in Timeo, in consideration of the prerogatiue thereof, termeth it, the whole body. It beinge then of so greate importance, the Fountaine also and chiefe springe, of eche the powers in man, it is of necessitie that it shoulde be of fitte propor­tion, and forme conuenable. Whence it commeth that Paulus Eginetus, in his first Booke, De Medicina, saithe: that a very little Heade is a signe certaine of a weake iudgement, and that who so hathe a very small Heade, wanteth withall iuste quantitie of brayne. The same reason alleageth Iohannes Alexandrinus, sayinge: the little Heade is as noysome and incommodious, as is the lesse compassed, or ouer straight Breast, for as (saithe he) the breast, is the harber of the Harte, & Lounges, whiche without many discommodities, maye not tolerate or in­dure to be too straightly imprisoned, especially for that y^e harte beinge too closely shutte vp, cannot commodiously without annoye at any time moue it. By meanes wher­of, naturall heate throughout al the whole body faileth, digestion also waxeth fainte and féebleth: in semblable sorte muste it by like consequent followe, that the head, in whiche nature hathe so artificially couched, the Or­gaines of so many puissances, or powers of importance, should be of proportion and quantitie conuenient. Ga­lene in like sorte vnto these accordeth, sayinge: that the little Heade is signe of little witte, and of a brayne lesse firme or stable: but if it be of quantitie, conuenable and [Page] decent, it then argueth a good witte, as also a sure & faste memory. The Philosophers affirme, y^t Man hauing his Head once striken of, incontinently becometh vnable to moue or stirre, although y^e force of respiration should not thereby be extinguished, but for that the Vaines are sun­dred, the onely meanes, & sole instruments of Motion in al Creatures liuing. How be it, Auerrois reporteth, y^t he sometime beheld a poore infortunate patient, who beyng beheaded, walked hither, and thither afterward, in sight of al the people. It is also written of Dionysius Areopa­gita, that he, his heade beinge striken of, wente notwith­standinge from the place of execution, one full Leage or more. But this no doubte, was more myraculous, then naturall. Emong al other Creatures liuinge, Man only and Horse, as affirmeth Pline, waxe white, or heare to­wardes theire later daies or ende. And Man, for that he Pline, Lib. 2. hath his heade more rounde, higher aduaunced, and voi­dest of putrifaction, is therefore knowen more sure, and able, as on the contrarye, who so sauereth moste of this vnperfite moysture, is found most commonly, of weake, and simple iudgemente. Somme valiaunt personages haue had their heade, and partes thereof so well affected, and harde, that they continually, and in all places indu­red to be discouered. As emong others, Iulius Caesar, Ha­nibal of Carthage, and Massinissa Kinge of Numidia, who neuer woulde, no not in his extreame age, either to a­uoide the force of Rayne, Winde, Snowe, or Heate, weare Cappe, Hatte, or any other kinde of couerture, or lighte, or lesse fittinge. The semblable reade wée of the Emperours Adrian, & Seuerus, as also of sundrye others. But for as mutch as wée haue of the Heade sommething nowe here intreated, it shal not be impertinent, in fewe also to speake, for what cause, or whence it is, that wée accoumpte it courtesie, when one man dooeth of his Cappe before an other, in token (as wée sée) of duetie, or of reuerence. Whiche thinge, though it be of lesse force, [Page 19] or importance, yet neither maie wée with [...]lence in this place well passe it. Plutarche in his Probleames suppo­seth, Plutarche▪ that it hence commeth, for that they, who in the an­cient time did Sacrifice vnto the Goddes, helde, during the saide time of Sacrifice, theire Cappes vpon theire heades: and that Princes, and greate Personages, to doo fitte honour, or reuerence to the Sacrificatour, in moste humble, & lowly manner discouered them selues before him, to the intente it shoulde appeare, that in considera­tion of his function, they reckened them selues continu­ally his inferiours, as inferiours also to the Goddes, by dooinge this duetie to theire appointed Minister. Fur­ther he saithe, That it was the manner, that when any man mette anywhere his enimy, or any one other whom he in harte did malice, he foorthewith, and incontinently woulde couer then his heade, so that it séemeth on the o­ther side conuenable, that before his Prince, or other friendes, he should discouer the same againe. M. Varro, as is readde in Pline, saithe, That this in the beginning was not donne for any reuerence, that in the presence of Pline, Lib. 28, any Maiestrate, or any other, men discouered them sel­ues, but onely by the lacke, and not wearinge thereof to harden them selues: for whiche cause onely, and to shewe them selues sutch, and not for any duetie, as somme sup­pose did they it. Galiot of Nargni is of this opinion, that Galiot, Libro suo de Homi­ne. who so, in dooinge reuerence to an other, discouereth his Heade, geueth him also with the same to vnderstande, that in vncoueringe the heade, the chiefe, and principall parte in Man, he also becommeth his loyall Vasaule, at the onely will, or commaundemente of the other, with the same acknowledginge to the other, his inferioritie. L. Celius, in manner alleaginge the same reason, saithe: L. Cel. Lib. 2, As the Heade in mannes bodye is the moste chiefe, and principall member: in defence of whiche, all the others imploye their busie paine. So is it a great signe of cour­tesie, or reuerence, when the same is discouered, or [Page] bowed vnto any man. To conclude then, whiche so euer of these opinions be truest, it is notwithstandinge bothe noysome, and discommodious to doo this reuerence con­tinually to moste men, or to all: and better were it, with courteous woordes, then otherwise, to discharge that duetie.

¶ That Mannes deathe is to be accoumpted Fortunate, or lesse Fortunate, according to the estate that him selfe shall die in: with certaine examples seruing to that pourpose. Chap. 9.

TO die ones, is a thinge to all menne common, but to knowe howe, when, or in what sorte, that yet hitherto hathe neuer bene reuealed to any fleashe: The whole onely consisteth at our departure hence, in the state that wée be founde in, or perfecte, or lesse per­fecte. In sutche sorte, that no deathe maie be iudged in­fortunate, but sutch as findeth man in state lesse perfect. For Deathe, as it commeth to many men, a geaste vn­thought on: so commonly lyeth he hidde in the corners of our houses, where wée leaste suppose to finde a stranger, sutche as is he, so harde, and so inexorable. Wherefore Man shoulde be continually vigilante, and circumspect, well armed in Christe, againste his vnknowen com­minge. To this pourpose, of the straunge deathe of ma­ny, wée finde euery where infinite examples. Of whiche wée onely will here remember somme, consideringe it to be a thinge not altogeather so rare, and marueilous, ha­uinge thereof eche where continual experience. A. Gel­lius reporteth, whiche also Valerius Maximus out of him A. Gellius. V. Maximus. auoucheth, That there is in Italie a certaine Towne cal­led Crotonna, in whiche there was an inhabitante, who highte Milo, in all kinde of Playes, or practises of man­hoode, or dexteritie, the moste valiantste, and moste hap­piest that in his time lyued. This man (sutche was his happe) in trauelinge on a time, as he passed vnder the [Page 20] side of an highe, and greate Mountaine, whiche drewe him selfe aside out of the common path, into the shadow, perhaps, with minde sommewhat to haue arested him: where, emonge other trées, he founde an Oke halfe cli­uen, or sundred by force of Wedge, and Bitle: in whiche somme Wedge also was leaft then déepely fastened, who incontinently desirous to perfecte the saide woorke, laide handes on the trée righte againste the saide Wedge, and with sutche force assayed to sunder it, that it to him a lit­tle yéelded: by meanes whereof, the saide Wedge slipte out. But immediately, were it (for so mighte it be) that his force fayled him, or that he lesse supposed any daun­ger in the matter, he yéelded a little, as though he would haue arested him: by meanes whereof, the Oke inconti­nently reioyned agayne, bothe his handes faste lockte within the trée: in sutch sorte, that not being able thence to escape, nor any man there passinge to healpe him in that daunger, with payne and hunger, died a prisoner miserable: a fitte, or fatte praye to the Wilde, and Sa­uage beaste. If the deathe of this Milo maie séeme to any man straunge, no lesse straunge also was the Deathe of the Poete Eschilus: for on a time goinge foorthe out of a certaine Towne in Sicile, of pourpose onely to take the ayre, and sunne him, the weather then hauinge benne sommethinge sharpe, and colde. This poore vnfortunate man, whose heade was eche where, either balde, or hear­lesse, after hauinge made somme litle shorte walke, are­sted him on a Hil, for his most aduantage in the Sunne, where pruninge him selfe, with open heade, shininge, an Egle by happe flewe ouer him in the ayre, which hauing in her pawes a greate, and heauie Tortois, espyinge the glitteringe balde heade of the poore Poete Eschilus, sup­posed it to haue ben [...]e somme harde Stoane, or Rocke: wherefore, lettinge fall her Tortois, with minde theron to haue broken it, for her present néede, or dinner, threw it so right, that shée nothing failed of her desired marke, [Page] but strake the sely Poete, and sundred therewith his heade, whence he fell downe suddainely deade: a thinge right straunge, and marueilous, considerings he was then mounted euen to the toppe of the Hill, assuringe him selfe that from aboue nothinge at all mighte gréeue him. Baptista Fulgosius in a certaine pretye Booke of his, written of examples, remembreth emonge many o­ther thinges, the infortunate Death of Charles. Kinge of Nauarre, who being olde, & very sickly, féelyng inces [...]ant, & insupportable paines, créepinge and runninge through all the vaynes of his bodye: to whiche, that his disease, his learned Phisitions coulde finde, or frame none, but this sole, and onely remedie, whiche was to folde him in a Shéete bedewed with Aqua Vitae, which when it was sowed vp, or stichte on euery side, in defaulte of a Knife to cutte the thréede of, one tooke in hande the Candle, the flame whereof, as soone as it had touched the Shéete, sette all on fire suddainely, in sutche sorte, that before they coulde shape him any kinde of remedie, the sicke Kinge was scorchte, and burnte almoste to ashes. Which was for his Vaynes, and all other maladies, his sole, and laste remedie in this worlde. The Deathe againe of Philemon mighte appeare to moste menne marueilous, whiche beholdinge on a time an Asse eatinge Figges of from a Table, brake into sutch, and so extreame a laugh­ter, that he in that sorte there ended his life. Cōsider wée then, if any where Man maye assure him of his beinge, if Laughing, and in iolitie, Death gayne of him the mai­sterie. Somme also affirme the same of Philistion, a Poete Comicall, as also of sundrie others, who with ex­treame ioye, made suddaine chaunge of life. Emonge whom, wée reade of Denis, the Tyrante of Sicilia, of Dia­goras also, and of that famous, & woorthy Romishe Ma­trone, which beholding her Sonne returned, whom shée supposed to haue benne slayne in Battaile, with ioye in excesse fell straight into an Extasye, whereof againe shée [Page 21] neuer after warde recouered. The aduenture also of the Shéepehearde Cratis, was in manner semblable, rare, and marueilons: who beinge asléepe on a Mountain in the middle of his charge, was slayne of a Maale Goate, ielous of his mate, with whiche Cratis moste abomina­bly had subuerted the Lawes of Nature. Whose strange happe (deserued notwithstandinge). Ludouicus Celius, and Volateranus, alleaginge also to that pourpose sun­drye Greeke Authours, in many confirme for assured truthe, and veritie. Infinite sutche others I leaue here to remember: as Pope Bonifacius, who throughe hunger onely, miserably sterued in fowle, and stinkinge Pry­son. The Archebishop of Magonce, slayne, and deuou­red of a troupe of Rattes, that eche where pursued him. The Emperoure Decius, of whome Emilius Victor re­porteth, that hauinge vanquished his enemies, was founde deade drowned in a little small lake. In manner semblable in our time, died Lewes Kinge of Hungary: and Sforce, Father of that most famous Capitaine Duke Fraunces Sforce, who bowynge him selfe somethinge to haue ayded his Page, was as the other, most miserably, & infortunately drowned. Andrew Kinge of Prouace, was by his owne Wife, somme other Dames healpinge her, as not to be boughte with price or Prayer, in cruel­lest manner that thei might, most dispitefully strangled. The Emperoure Tiberius was also impoysoned of his wife Agripina. Whence wée conclude that Kinges, Princes, and greate Personages, are as well subiecte to these straunge deathes, and infortunes, as are any their poore Vassaules or subiectes: although perhappes they make (propte vp with swellinge and pompous pryde) small reckeninge, or accompte of these forepassed daun­gers.

¶ What speache was vsed in the beginninge of the Worlde, and how firste began the diuersitie of Languages. Chap. 10.

[Page] IN the firste Age, or beginninge of the Worlde, euen vntill the Fludde, and many yéeres afterwarde, men generally throughout had féelinge but of one Lan­guage, al diuersitie then hidde, and vnknowen man­ner of speakinge. No man then spake with tongue, or straunge, or lesse familier, no voice was from other in any thinge then different, no newe deuise in speakinge was then knowen, or thought on. The diuersitie then firste, or confusion of tongues, the Mother of eche mis­chiefe, & cause of all annoye, the sole Nurse of litigious, and impacable debates, was for mans sinne and pryde (as a iuste scourge) on him layde. Moyses in the Historie of Genesis recordeth, that Nemrod Nephewe to Noë, by the lyne of Cain, with others more lyke proude, and of like ambitious nature, were then borne, when firste a­monge Genesis. II. men, presumption and malice raigned without al reason. At that time this Nemrod, with his vnaduised companye, determined togeather, to frame or builde a Tower, whiche from the Earth might reache to the face of Heauen it selfe. Whiche thinge they onely did, ha­uing in memory yet the late forepassed Fludde, to escape the hande of God, if he at any other time shoulde washe the Earth againe. Iosephus in the first Booke of his An­tiquities, Iosephus. saithe: that he from all partes had sutch syéedy healpe, for the erection of his buildinges, that in shorte time it grewe bothe marueilous prowde and pompous. And againe he saithe, that they layde the Fundations thereof so déepe and so broade, that though it were of so incredible height, as the Scriptures make plaine men­tion, yet by all coniectures possible, the breadth thereof was more. But God who iustly chastised this prowde presumptuous enterprise, though not with payne deser­ued, gaue in that presente instante, so many diuerse tongues, so straunge, and so unknowen, that these who all before spake one, and the same Language, spake then thréescoare and twelue, so farre and differente from the [Page 22] firste, that fewe amonge them had féelinge, or meanings of the others minde. By meanes whereof, sutch enmitie, and presente discorde grewe, that not onely this worke then rested there vnperfecte, but euery man with those, that vnderstoode his speache, retyred to possesse somme place aparte, or Countrie to them selues. For whiche cause it euer afterward was called the Tower of Babell, whiche is to say, of confusion. Isidorus affirmeth that Isidorus li. 15. of Etimologes. it was highe fiue thousand one hundred, thrée scoare and foure pases, all of Bricke, layde with claye, or [...]lime in stéede of Morter, of whiche in that Countrie great plen­tie was eche where founde. In the said selfe place, wher­as this Tower was builte, as hath Iosephus, Isidorus, S. Iosephus. Isidorus. S. August. Orosus. Augustine, and Orosus, was builte also that moste aun­cient, and most famous Cittie, of whiche so woorthy & so great maters are yet reported, called Babylon, situate or seated on the Riuer of Euphrates, of which the Coūtries, or Territories adiacent, tooke their firste or principal de­nominatiō, as Chaldea, & Mesopotamia. The Scriptures Genesis. 7. also recorde, that the beginninge of y^e raigne of Nemrod was also in Babylon, wherfore it is reason that wée be of y^e said minde with the aboue remembred Authours, that Nemrod also built this famous Cittie of Babylon, which afterwarde was walled, became Riche, and Honorable, by the carefull payne and industrie of Semiramis, & Ny­nus. But to retourne to our pourpose of Tongues, or Languages, it might here be a question disputable, what Tongue it was, that was that firste, so common and ge­nerall, whiche onely and alone was knowen, before the diuision, and confusion of the others. S. Augustine dis­coursinge in many, vpon this matter concludeth, that it was the Hebrew, the very same that the Iewes speake yet at this daie, whiche, as farre as it maye be gathered, by any meane possible out of the Scriptures, and as S. Au­gustine also déemeth, was conserued in Heber, of whom descended Abraham, and the Hebrewes: for that neither [Page] he, nor any of his kinred, would healpe at all any thinge in erectinge this Tower. By meanes wherof, him selfe, and his family, whiche woulde not condescende to this sinfull, and prowde attempte, felte not thereof the due deserued paine. Wherefore wée maye presume that in Heber, and his family, the auncient, and firste Tongue remained perfect, and entire, without any corruption or confusion of the same, in that Linage onely pure, and no­where els in the Worlde: whence it came to passe, that of Heber, it had his denomination Hebrewe. Sundry Hebrewes his Successours affirme, that this Language was that same, that was firste spoken by Adam, as also of all the others, of that Auncient and firste Age, conser­ued in Heber, and those that followed him, Abraham & Iacob. In this same also wrote Moyses his Lawes. This then is the opinion of S. Augustine, & Isidorus, to whome wée should geue more assured credite, then to those that affirme, the Chaldean Tongue the first, which notwith­stāding may be of parte excused, for that these twoo Lan­guages haue a marueilous vicinitie, their Characters al­moste vniforme and lyke, as also well agreynge in other thinges many. Notwithstandinge, in this matter, some curious haue doubted, if twoo children, or a greater num­ber, fostred in place secrete voyde of all company, where they neuer mighte heare the voyce of any other, what woordes they woulde frame, or Language in the ende. Somme haue thought that they firste would speake He­brewe: others somme the Chaldean Tongue. But He­rodotus saithe, that on a time experience in this case was Herodotus. made, by meane of a contention, or emulation then growen betwixte the Aegyptians, and Frigians: eche na­tion pretendinge by antiquitie of their Language, pre­eminency aboue the other. For determination of which differente in fine they concluded, that twoo Children should be nourished in manner aboue rehearsed, in sutch sorte that they shoulde neuer heare any woorde spoken at [Page 23] all, and that Language, that these children firste began to profite in, should be reputed the firste, and most Aun­cient, and they that spake that, by consequent of moste antiquitie. He addeth againe afterward, that a certaine Kinge of Aegypte, caused to be fostered twoo children in a deserte, to which no man euer spake in any sorte in the worlde, whiche when they were full foure yéeres olde, he caused them without more, to be brought into his pre­sence, where they eftsoones vttered this onely woorde Ber, whiche dothe in the Frigian tongue signifie Breade: for whiche cause the Frigians were of all men reputed as moste Ancient. This writeth Herodotus, whom many herein approue, & alleage for authoritie. Notwithstan­dinge were it (as he reporteth it) a truth, yet might it be that these Children by happe, some where shoulde learne it, as by somme Beaste, Birde, or Shéepe in the Fielde, whiche might frame the same, or some sutche like voyce, they doinge their paine to frame the same after them. But as for my parte, I reste of this minde, that twoo Children in this sorte fostered, would speake none other but the firste Language, Hebrewe: although I also durst in manner semblable to affirme, that to them selues they would shape somme newe, and straunge Tongue, ge­uinge to all thinges their names vnknowen & vnheard, as wée sée, that Children of them selues naturally: geue names lesse knowen, to thinges of them desired, so that of parte assuredly it appeareth, that nature would learne them a Language all newe, before they should be perfect in any their Fathers. In this case experience may suf­ficiently schoole vs, if any very curious, desire to knowe the effect hereof. In the meane time eche man may here reste, of what opinion it beste liketh him, nothing aboue, saide withstandinge the contrary.

¶ Of the Diuision of the Ages of the Worlde, with a briefe dis­course of diuerse Notable matters chaunced also in [Page] them, as also in fine, of the beginninge of Realmes and Kingdomes. Chap. 11.

ALthough moste menne haue somme pleasure, and likinge to talke, and discourse of the Ages of the Worlde, to remember perchaunce thinges donne in this, also not to passe what hathe chaunced in that: yet are there a greate many that lesse knowe the true diui­sion of these times, ne what yéeres eche Age demaun­deth to his accomplishmente. The Age therefore, or Life of the worlde, euen from the firste, vntill this daye pre­sente, is diuided by y^e moste parte of approued Authours into sixe onely partes, or Ages: although diuers recken, and accoumpte on seuen, accordinge to the onely compu­tation of the Hebrewes. But I, herein haue determined to folowe Eusebius, and the common opinion of al Histo­riographers, arestinge them on the aboue remembred number of sire. In diuision of whiche, there is founde emonge many, sutche greate confusion, and difference in reckeninge, that hardly a man maie herein assure him of a truth. They that deale herein, are diuided into twoo partes: of whiche, the one foloweth the computation of the thréescoare and twelue Interpreters, whiche tran­slated the Olde Testamente from the Hebrewe, into the Greeke. The other, the Hebrewes, and common texte of the Bible: whose opinions I will, for contentation of all partes, hereafter remember. The firste Age therefore, The firste Age. or parte of the Worlde, accordinge to the common, and general accoumpt of al, was euen from y^e Creation of the same, to the Inundation, or Drowninge of it againe. Whiche was the Infancie, or tenderest Age (as somme tearme it) of the Worlde. Whiche Age was longe, and of greate continuauce. Duringe whiche time, it is to be supposed, that greate, and marueilous matters chanced vnto men, although wee thereof finde no recorde, or Hi­storie, sauinge that the Scriptures haue, that after God [Page 24] had created Adam, and Eue, as also before him all other Creatures: ouer whom, he gaue him generall Dominion and Rule, as well ouer the beastes on the Lande, as fi­shes in the Sea. Adam then begatte twoo Sonnes, Cain, and Abel, whiche afterwarde also begat diuers others: by whome the worlde beganne then to be well peopled. Moyses writeth, that Cain builte him, in the Easte parte The firste cittie of the world. of the worlde, a Cittie, whiche after his Sonnes name, be called Honoch. In that time Lameth hauinge buried his wife, hardened him selfe to choose againe the seconde, (beinge the firste Bigamus that euer was in this worlde) on one of the whiche he begat Tubal, who firste founde the meane to Singe, by Arte, the Violles eke, and also the Organs. Cain founde the skill to woorke yron, and ingraue thereon. In this Age, the Worlde had also Gy­antes: of whiche, sundrye good writers thus mutche re­porte, that they were of excessiue stature, and force, mar­ueilous roughe to intreate, and enimies to Mankinde. Finally, by the insupportable burthen of Sinne, the ge­neral Floudde washed the face of the whole Earthe. By means whereof, all mankinde, Noē onely reserued, and suche as were with him in the Arke, was drowned. And The contrarie­tie of opinions concerning the first Age. this firste Age of the Worlde, according to the accoumpt of the Hebrewes, Filon, Beda, S. Hierome, and the com­mon Texte of the Bible, continued a thousand sixe hun­dred fiftie and sixe yéeres. But as the thréescoare and twelue Interpreters, Eusebius, and other Historiogra­phers with them saye, it had twoo thousande, twoo hun­dred, fourty and twoo yéeres. S. Augustine, twoo thou­sande, twoo hundred, seuentie and twoo. And Alphon­sus, Kinge of Spayne, twoo thousande, eightehundred, eightie and twoo. The Seconde Age began in Noē, im­mediately The second Age. after his comminge out of the Arke, whiche continued vntill the birthe of Abraham, and had accor­dinge to the opinion of these Interpreters, Eusebius, Isi­dorus, and moste parte of all Chronicles, nine hundred [Page] fourtie and twoo yéeres. But the Hebrewes recken many lesse, as onely twoo hundred, nintie & twoo. With whom Filon, and Iosephus accorde. S Augustine to that Age attributeth a thousande seuentie and twoo yéeres. Little certaintie finde wée of any thinge donne, or chaunced in this time: for no particulare Historie at all remaineth. In generall, concerninge the beginninge of Realmes, and Kingedomes, somewhat is founde, as also touching the firste Inhabitantes of Countries, and Prouinces. Noë issuinge out of his Arke, planted to him selfe, with busie paine, a vineyarde: where, what chaunced vnto him, eche man wel knoweth. He, and his children begat many others, so that the worlde began well againe to be peopled. Cam, the second sonne of Noë, begat to him Cus: of whome are descended the Aethiopians. He also had Cam. Mesrain, of whom are descended in sorte semblable, the Aegyptians. And laste of all, Canaan, from whom issued the Cananites. His other Sonne Iapheth, ingendred Gomer, and Magog, of which other Nations descended, too longe here to remember. In this time was the To­wer of Babel builte: by meane of which, also then chaun­ced the confusion of tongues. Whence, as Iosephus re­cordeth in the second Booke of his Antiquities: Men sun­dred to inhabite Countries, and Iles by them selues, sutch, and such togeather as were skilled of a language. Duringe whiche Age, Tubal, Sonne of Iapheth came to inhabite Spayne, framinge there to him selfe a Realme, or Kingedome. Other somme saie, that he indifferently was called either Subal, or Tubal, the Sonne of Falech, and Nephewe to Heber. In this time the Raigne of the Scithians beganne in the Northe, whiche euermore pre­tended Antiquitie aboue other Countries: as well no­teth Trogus Pompeius, and Iustin. By meane whereof, greate enmitie still grewe betwixte them, and the Ae­gyptians. The Arte Magike, and Incantations began then by Cam, surnamed otherwise, Zoroastes. Aboute [Page 25] the ende of this Age, somethinge before the byrth of A­braham, according to the accompte of Eusebius, and Be­da, the most famous and puissant raigne of the Assyrians The beginning of the Assyri­ans. began, hauing for their first Prince or King, Belus, which diuers supposed to be the God Iupiter: some the seconde Ninus, which (during whose time was borne Abraham) conquered and subdued sundry townes and prouinces. Besides this an other kinde of raigne was there in Ae­gipte, called Dinastia, where the firste that was of su­preme, and highest authoritie, had to name Vexor, or otherwise Vezor, as hath Eusebius: who about the ende of this seconde Age, instituted the Raigne or Kingdome of the Sicionians, in Peloponesus, nowe called Morea, where Agis is supposed to haue bene the firste King. In this time began now Idolatrie & Gentilitie. This much confusely haue wee gathered of this Age: in the ende of which also the moste worthie, & most renoumed Citie of Niniue, was buylded of marueilous and incredible big­nesse: which as we finde in holy write, was in compasse no lesse than three dayes iourneyes. Incontinent after this, began the thirde Age, euen in the byrth of Abra­ham, The Thirde Age. vntill the Prophete Dauid, which without all con­tradiction, or gaynesaying of any, continued nine hun­dred, fortie, and two yeares, vnto which onely Isidorus addeth two: which Age we may cal y^e Adolescencie of the world, for that, in that time all things were maruelously augmented, and increased. In the beginning of this Age Semiramis the wife of Ninus, not onely attempted, but ended also, and perfected, sundry renoumed, and va­liaunt exploites, hauing taken on her mans apparel, and faining her self to be the yong Prince Ninus, after which sorte she liued and raygned long time, conquering with the sworde many Landes, and Countryes, she reedified, & walled the famous Citie of Babylon. About this time happened the Peregrination of Abraham by the open and expresse commaundement of God. Then also obtay­ned [Page] he his happy victorie agaynst the foure Kinges, re­déeming Loth, whom they caried away prysoner. Nowe also began the first Raigne of the Amazones. The Pha­raoes, Kings of Egypte now also began to florish. Sodome Pharao, in the Aegyptian tongue, signifi­eth Kinge. and Gomorra were destroyed in these dayes. In the time of Isaac, began the Empyre of the Argiues in Thessalie, & while his sonnes liued, Iacob and Esau, the Kinges of Costa began also their raigne, of whom the firste had to name Acre. A litle after this was Ioseph solde to the E­gyptians, in suche sorte as hath the Historie, as also how his Father, his brethren, & their children wente also in­to Aegypt, where such Israelites as descended of them, li­ued, as accompteth Beda, foure hundred & thirty yéeres: with whom accordeth S. Augustine in his booke, De ciui­tate Dei. Duringe this Age Hercules of Libya, came into Spayne, where he raigned▪ & after him Iuer, Brigus, Taga, Beto, Gerian, & others, of whom Berosus, with other good authors remembereth vs. In this time was also firste founded the Cittie of Siuile, which is accompted for one among the others of moste antiquitie in the worlde, as well recordeth Berosus, with others. First this Citie had to name Ispalis of Ispal y^e sonne, or Nephewe of Hercu­les, Ispalis. who long raigned, or ruled there: who also, as some say, layde the first foundations thereof, or buylte it, al­though Isidorus affirme that it was named Ispalis, for that it was seated in a place watry, or in a marish, where they were compelled for better assuraunce of their foun­dation to beate into the grounde great stakes, beames, or trées, which how so euer it was, this Cittie of Ispalis, was after called Spayne, as writeth Trogus Pompeius, Iustine, and others. And after this agayne Iulius Caesar called it Siuile, inriching and amplyfiing it in such large sort and manner, that it after was the seate there, or re­sting place of the Romaynes, beyng also before that ve­ry noble and honorable. But to returne to our purpose, after this agayne was Moyses borne, vnder whose con­ducte [Page 26] the Hebrewes, came out of Aegypte, in whiche time also liued Iob, the iuste. And after this came that general The Inundatiō of Thessalye. Inundation on Thessalie, when great Kingdomes grew then in diuers Landes, & Contryes. In Aethiopia then first raigned Ethiopus, in Sicilia, Siculus: in Boecia, Boe­cius. So that Countryes then receiued their denomina­tion of Princes, as of Sardus, Sardina also, the first King or Prince there. In these dayes flourished the famous Troye: then also was Iason busied in conqueringe the Fliece of Goulde, whence in like manner procéedeth the knowen Historie of Medea. Nowe were the Amazones of greater power, then in any other time, and now be­gan the Kingdome of the Latines in Italie. About this time Paris also rauished Helena, the onely cause of the longe warre, and destruction of Troye, of the comming of Aeneas into Italie, as also of other things innumera­ble, which in few may not bée spaken. Then ended this thirde Age, and the fourth began, euen in the beginning The Fourthe Age. of the raigne of Dauid, seconde Kinge of the Hebrewes: whiche continued vntill the transmigration of the Iewes into Babylon, foure hundred, foure score and fiue yéeres: but Beda rekeneth fewer, foure hundred seuentie, and foure onely. This Age might well bée termed the lustie Mundi Iuuen [...] Age of the world: during which, infinite matters happe­ned, whereof all Histories are full. Now that good King Dauid obtayned sundry victories, as well agaynst the Philistians, as also agaynst the Ammonites, reuenging him self, for the iniurie done to his Ambassadours: he did also to die the Capitayne of the Assyrians. After him, in that place succéeded the wise King Salomon, who buylte that ritch, & famous Temple of Hierusalem, after whose death the Kingdome was deuided, Ieroboam succéeding in ten families, & Roboam his sonne in twoo. After this the Empyre of the Assyrians, whiche then had continued twelue hundred yéeres, by the death of Sardonapalus, was vtterly subuerted, he was one of the richest & grea­test [Page] Monarches in the world, who not withstanding by Arbactus slayne, the Empyre came into the handes or possession of the Medes. About this time the Princes of Macedonie began to frame their Empyre, as the Greekes in manner semblable now vsed to accompte their yéeres by Olympiades, which were certaine feastes and practi­ses Olympiades. of agilitie, whiche they continually vsed euery fiue yéeres, with Prises appointed for such as beste deserued them. Dido now builte the renoumed Citie of Carthage, as Rome also by Romulus, & Remus then began, where the Romaine Kinges continually aboade & arested them. In this time the greate Citie of Bizance waxed mightie and honorable, whiche afterwardes loste her name, and was called Constantinople. After this, wearye warres grew in most places, and inpacable dissensions, with al­teration and chaunge of great Segnories and Empires. Whereof the Histories of that Age, are each where full and abundant. In the ende of this Age Nabuchodono­sor, King of the Medes and of Babilon, besieged Hierusa­lem, which he sackte, and subuerted, as also the Temple, whence he brought the people of Iudea prysoners with him: & thence is that, that we now remember, the trans­migration of Babylon. When, or at whiche time began the fifte Age of the Worlde, which continued vntill the The Fifte Age. Byrth, & Natiuitie of our Sauiour and redéemer Iesus Christe, both God and Man, fiue hundred, foure scoare, and nine yéeres, by common accompte of all men. In these dayes were many valiaunt and puissante Princes riche, and politike common Weales and Contryes, in such sorte, that it greate maruaile is to reade, & consider the straunge and miserable subuertions, immutations, and chaunge of estates, the rare raysing and gathering of huge Armies, and troupes of men, such were they, so terrible, and so common withall, that better it is there­of nothing to speake, then to speake in few. Not long af­ter this, began that famous Monarchie of the Persians, [Page 27] (whiche aswell by meane of other victories that Cyrus echewhere obtained, as also that he vanquished and sub­dued Cresus Kinge of Lidia) waxed of all others moste riche, and renowmed: notwithstandinge Cyrus, after he had raigned fully thirty yéeres, was him selfe discomfi­ted, and beheaded by Tameris Quéene of Scithia. Three Tameris. scoare and tenne yéeres of this Age accomplished, the Hebrewes were deliuered out of bondage and captiuitie, and the Temple was reedified by Salomon at Hierusa­lem. The Romaines now altered their state of gouern­ment, they deposed their Kinges & choase to them Con­suls, of whiche the firste was L. Brutus, and after him L. Colatinus. In Greece nowe florished good Letters, and Chiualry, so that thence issued, no lesse famous Philoso­phers, then Capitaynes excellent. Thither came Xerxes to haue Conquered it, with a multitude incredible, but was forced to retire againe with equall shame and de­triment. After this began Philippe his raigne in Ma­cedonie, whiche subdued Greece, the Mother of Learning & Chiualrie, whiche in that time fostered Demosthenes, Themistocles, Epaminondas, Agesilaus, Zeno, Plato, Ari­stotle, with many sutche others. Philippe deade, his Sonne Alexandre dwelte not still in Greece, but wente thence into Asia, which in shorte time he conquered, sub­uertinge the Empire of Persia, and by meanes of the vi­ctorie obtained againste Darius, he remained euer after­warde the onely Emperour, and sole Monarke of all the whole worlde. But after his death, diuision was made to his Capitaynes, of all and euery his Segneuries, by meane whereof mutch enmitie, and discorde grewe, and thence also warres generally throughout all Asia, as al­so through a greate parte of Europa withall. Nowe be­ganne the Romaines, and the people of Carthage to grow great & mightie, eche of them labouringe to be the onely Lordes and Princes of the worlde. Longe warres then continued betwixte these twoo Citties, in sutche sorte, [Page] that eche noursed for their defence moste honorable and valiant Capitaines. As Carthage, Asdrubal, Hannon, Hannibal: Rome, the Fabians, the Scipioes, the Marcels, the Emiles, and sutche others. But in fine after longe warres, and mutche blouddeshedde, Rome remained vi­ctorious: Carthage spoyled and sackte, and Aphrike be­came tributorie. This victory obtained, the Romaines prowde, & enuious of the prosperitie of Greece, sought by all meanes possible, warre also against them, by occasion whereof Greece also became tributorie as the other. Not content with these, Auarice yet forste them to stretche their foote farther, and so passinge into Asia, vanquished Antiochus, and after him Mithridates, titlinge them selues Lordes of all Asia the lesse, as also of Siria, Pale­stina, and Egypte: and on this side, of al Fraunce, Spaine, Englande, with the greater parte of Almayne. In which Conquestes their chiefe Capitaines were, Metellus, Syl­la, Marius, Lucullus, Pompeius, and Caesar, with many o­thers. Nowe came it to passe, enuious ambition infla­minge their hartes, that ciuile warres, and commotions burste out emongst them, eche séekinge preeminencye & authoritie ouer other: but in fine the Empire remayned onely to Caesar: vnto whom, after many good happes in this life, his Nephewe, or Sonne adoptiue, succéeded Octauian, who hauinge once broken the force, and cour­rage of his enemies, enioyed the Crowne in quiet peace, and tranquilitie, so that liuinge in concorde, and a­mitie with all Princes, he caused to be shutte vp the gates, or doores of his God Ianus, which in warres were neuer at any time opened. The accomplishment of time nowe comminge, this fifte Age here ended: at whiche time was borne, the redéemer of mankinde Iesus Christ the iuste, in the yéere from the Creation of the worlde, accordinge to the Hebrewes, thrée thousande, niene hun­dred, fiftie and twoo yéeres, and accordinge to the thrée scoare and tenne Interpreters: Eusebius, and the moste [Page 28] parte of Historiographers, fiue thousande, one hundred, foure scoare and ninetiene: but accomptinge after Oro­sus, fiue thousande and twentie yéeres: after Isidorus one yéere lesse: but accordinge to Alphonsus, sixe thousande, niene hundred, foure scoare and foure, whiche are many more then any others accompte of. In the Birthe then The Sixte Age. of our Sauiour beganne the sixte Age, whiche hath con­tinued vntill this daie, and shall doo vntill the laste, and dissolution of the Worlde. Duringe whiche time, a great S. August. in. 15 16. & 17. De Ciuitate Dei. Beda. Eusebius. Filon. parte of Christiantie, hath benne gouerned onely by the Emperours of Rome. Whiche from time to time suc­cessiuely, by the space of certaine yéeres, liued in greate pompe, wealthe, and prosperitie. But shortly after the Gothes, as also somme others. And laste, that false and accursed Prophete Mahomet, did in sutche sorte shake, & weaken this Empire, that it became lesse, and lesse able, then in a fewe yéeres before, so that in sundry partes of the saide Empire, were instituted newe Kingdomes and Segnories: by whiche insued continuall discordes, and slidinges from the Faithe. The enimies of Christ, and of his Crosse, takyng now good occasion to moleste the poore Christians, robbinge, and spoilinge them of their landes and reuenewes. The computation of these Ages, which I haue here remēbred, are onely taken of these Authours aboue remembred, to wete, of S. Augustine, Isidorus, Be­da, Eusebius, Filon, Orosus, men all of singuler authori­tie and learninge: Vincentius also: and of our time Pe­trus de Aliaque: and aboue all the others, Iohannes Drio­donus, a faithefull commenter on the sacred Scriptures. The Portes haue reckened of this worlde, foure Ages, and nomore: the firste of Golde, whiche they called Gol­den: the seconde of Siluer, whiche they termed the Sil­uer Age: the thirde of Brasse, or Stéele: the fourthe of Yron, whiche as before they called the Stéely, and Yron Ages, geuinge foorth by the same, that as the malice of Man beganne eche where to growe, so did the excellency [Page] of these mettalles in manner semblable diminishe: vnto which it pleased them to compare these aboue said partes of time. And in this manner hathe Ouid in his Meta­morphoses diuided them.

¶ Of the straunge Life of Diogenes, surnamed Cinicus, as al­so of his Sentences, Propositions, and Answeares. Chap. 12.

THere were fiue y^e had to name, Diogenes: of which eche one for his Vertue, and excellente Learning, merited well in this place to be commended to the Posteritie. Wée notwithstanding will speake but of the one, Diogenes Cinicus, whose Life, and Doctrine surpas­passed farre the others: his Manners, and Conditions, as they mighte of parte appeare to any, straung, so were they nenerthelesse founded on bountye, and Vertue. He euermore liued in voluntarye Pouertie, exposinge his bodye to al toyle and trauell. In the Sommer he would lye on the Sandes, in the face of the Sunne, to able him selfe the better to indure all force of heate. And in the Winter, he imbraced great lumpes, or heapes of Snow, to acquainte him selfe with s [...]che extremitie of Wea­ther. He fedde on grosse meates, and sutche as were of vile price, to the intente he mighte neuer féele wante of Sustenaunce. He neuer had any place, that he coulde tearme his place of aboade, or his home: euerywhere, where it chaunced him to be, he did eate, drinke, and sléepe without respecte: he neuer spake any thinge, but when it was necessarye, or behoofull: neither in the daye ware he any other apparell, then his woonted Nighte Gowne, or ragged robe of no price. He had a litle Bagge or Pokette, wherein he keapte his meate, poore and sim­ple, sutche as it was: his staffe also to staye on, serued him in stéede of horse, when he was sicke, or weary. A wooden dishe had he to drinke in as he trauailed through the Countrie, whiche he immediately brake, espyinge [Page 29] on a time a boye drinkinge in his hand, sayinge: What néedeth me to vse a vessell framed by Arte, sithe nature hathe lente me one, as fitte as any other. In like sorte vsed he his Trencher, that he vsually carried with him, beholdinge an other man that had framed him one not vnfitly, of Breade. This Philosopher spente the greater parte of his time in Athens, whither he retyred, banni­shed from his Countrie. Longe time for his dwellinge house, he had none other, but a Tunne, or Tubbe: of no­thinge made he any accoumpte, but of Vertue onely, vt­terly detestinge to committee any sinne. Touchinge Ho­nour & Ritches, he so litle regarded them, as he also did all those that posseste them. Of custome he vsed to say, that he neuer sufficiently could marueile at the vnadui­sed follye of men: whiche contentiously woulde quarrell, murtheringe eche the other, oft time for the wall, or in­ner parte of the waye. But whiche of them moste studi­ously imbraced Vertue, thereof coulde he neuer sée any matter betwixte them. He compared the Ritche man, ignorante, to a shéepe of Golde: and when he asked any thinge that was vnto him necessarie, he saide: that he begde it not, but desired restitution. Geuinge him to vn­derstande, that the goodes of the Ritche were gathered of the poore. An other vsage also had he, whiche for the appearance, or shewe that it mainteined, of folly, had yet notwithstandinge a secrete, or cloase Mysterie. For of­tentimes moste humbly he woulde desire an Almes of Images of Stoane, Tymber, or semblable matter, as thoughe they had benne menne perfecte, hauinge Life: whiche he did, he saide, to arme him selfe with patience, when any where in his néede, he shoulde be of any refu­sed. And when he at any time soughte an Almes, he vsed these woordes: If thou of custome vse to geue to the poore, then geue thou me sommethinge, for of all others, I stande in greatest néede: and on the other side, if it so be, that thou neuer haste geuen to any, beginne then to [Page] bestowe now some present on mée. On a time he entred into the house of a certaine man, which before had benne very ritche, & prodigal, but then was very poore, néedie, & indigent: in sutch sorte, that he nothing had to Suppe on, but only an vnsauery, & sower Sallet. By meanes wher­of he saide: had thy diet heretofore not bene much better, thou shouldest not now haue Supte so simply. Geuinge him thence in few to vnderstand, that the excesse, that he sometime vnmeasurably had vsed, had cast him into that gripinge, & pinchyng penury. One demaunded of him an other time, what beast it was, that bitte most greuously: To whom he answeared, emonge beastes, sauage, & furi­ous, he that sclaunderously, and ill reporteth: but emong tame beastes, euermore y^e Flatterer. An other demaun­ded of him, why Golde lookte yalowe, or as it pleaseth some others, more properly pale: Because all men (saithe he) assault, & lie in waite for it. Againe an other demaun­ded, If he néeded not a Seruant: To whom he saide, no. The other replied, & asked who then should burie him af­ter his death: he, saith Diogenes, y^t wil dwel in my house. Beinge demaunded againe, at what time a man shoulde marry him: The yong man (saith he) must marry him self very timely: as for the olde, or aged, he now néedeth it no more. By which he would inferre, & conclude, that it was in truthe lesse expedient to marry: although it be suppo­sed, that he more spake it in mockery, then that he would haue mainteined it for an infallible Veritie. Now as Di­ogenes was, in Life frée, & in manners: so also was he in any woorde that paste him. For on a time as he paste tho­row a streate, vewing there a hawtie, & sumptuous buil­dinge, belongyng to a Gentleman, of an infamons, & su­spected Life. Ouer the gate, or entraunce of whiche was written, that no man vnhonest, mighte enter thereat. Turning him self about to sutch as therby passed, incon­tinently demaunded, which way entereth the Maister of this faire Lodging into it? Trauelling as was his happe [Page 30] on a time through y^e Countrie, he by chaunce drewe nigh to a very litle village, altogeather poore, & simply peo­pled: the Gates of which were large, wide, & very great, whereat, as lowde, as he coulde, in laughinge manner, he saide: Yée Inhabitauntes, shutte vp these your wyde Gates betime, leaste happily your Towne runne out thereat. Espyinge an other time a certaine companye shootinge in the Crosse Bowe: emonge whom there was one lesse practised, or vnskilfull: by meanes whereof, he still failed very mutche of his marke, whose course when it came among the others to shoote, he immediatly would steppe in before the Butte, iustly couering or shadowing the white or marke, whereat y^e assistantes were straūgly amazed. But Diogenes said: I suppose I may more safely stande here, then els where, so ill, & so farre of shooteth he from the marke. Of a yonge boye very fayre and wel fa­uoured, but of manners lewde and dishonest, he asked, why carriest thou so uaughty, & so ill fauoured a swoorde, in a scabberde so good, & so well fewtered. A certaine cō ­pany commended one, that had presented to Diogenes, some small gifte or present: but Diogenes saide, why ra­ther cōmende yée not mée, who well haue merited what­soeuer is geuen: letting them thence, by his answeare to vnderstand, that it far better is to deserue a good turne, then to perfourme it to him, that well hath merited it. He ones desired contrarie to his woonte, (for neuer would he aske Monie in gifte of any man) of a prodigall fellowe, a greate summe of monye, where at the other somethinge moued, saide: why askest thou of mée onely a matter ss vnreasonable? It is saithe he, for that of others at some other time, I stande in hope to receiue some­thinge, but of thée after this ones, neuer againe: taringe with the same, his vnmeasurable expenses. Beinge also demaunded, whence it came to passe, that menne more willingly bestowed their Almes, on the Lame, y^e Blinde, the Dismembred, the Gout [...]e, Maungye, and on the Vl­cerus, [Page] sooner then on Philosophers, and men to them like Learned: He sayde (an answeare in mine opinion very prety, and fittinge) for this cause onely mooued, doo they it, for that they rather feare they shalbe sutch, then Phi­losophers: and therefore more willingly they comforte and assiste those, like to whome they may sooner be, then to the troupe Learned. The sentences, & sage answeares of this Philosopher, were infinite, whiche in silence I here passe, as well knowen to al the worlde. He was ve­ry sobre & discrete, well learned in all the Sciences, he was the Scholler, or Disciple of Antisthenes, in the time of Plato, and Aristotle: he had in contempte all Artes, & Sciences, of whiche grewe no profite or gayne, as also those that studied them, more for curiositie, then for the loue of vertue. He argued Astronomers, that onely bu­sied them selues in the contemplation of the Heauens, lesse regardinge what they had to doo on the Earthe be­lowe. To Musitians would he saie, that they well knew how to accorde their instrumentes, but not their rebel­lious and disordered affections. Hearynge a certaine A­stronomer, skilfully discoursinge of the Starres, he de­maunded when he came last out of Heauen. Vnto a So­phisticall Logician, toylinge to proue, that there was in thinges no motion, no answeare would he frame, but in derision forthwith, walkes vp and downe before him: Séemeth this (saithe he) to thée a motion, yea, or not? In this sorte began to growe now y^e renoumed fame of this woorthy Philosopher throughout the whole worlde, so that Alexander the Greate, comminge by chaunce to A­thens, woulde néedes sée, talke, and deuise with him of certaine pointes concerninge Vertue. After somme con­ference, at whiche time, his Maiestie bespake him in this sorte: Diogenes, I well sée that thou arte poore, and stan­dest in néede of many thinges, therfore demaunde what so thou wouldest haue, and I will geue it thée: to whom he sayde: whiche of vs twoo thinkest thou, liueth in grea­test [Page 31] necessitie, I that desire nothinge but my dishe here to Drinke in, and a peece of Breade when I hunger: or thou, that beinge Kinge of Macedonye, exposest thy selfe to all kinde of daungers, only to inlarge thine Empyre & Dominion, & that also in sutche sorte & manner, that the whole worlde scarce suffiseth to asswage thine A [...]arice? On a time he was also taken of certaine light horsemen, Athenians, by meanes whereof, though imprisoned, he neuer yet became either faynte harted, or dismayed: whence afterwarde remoued, in place common to be solde, to any sutche without respecte as should offer most for him. Where immediatly a certaine Marchant de­maundeth of the Trumpeter, or publique Officer, whi­ther he had authoritie to sell him, as also whither he were a bonde man, or naie. Whereat Diogenes sayde to the Officer, answeare him that thou haste here to sell a seruaunt or bondman, but sutche an one, as well know­eth how to commaunde and gouerne his Maister. Aulus Gellius, and Macrobius reporte, that he in sutche sorte bespake Geniades, who was the aboue remembred Mar­chant that bought him, who also after gaue him Maister to his children. The same day therefore that he firste had bought him, comminge with him towardes his Inne or lodginge, Diogenes saide to him, as if him self had benne the Marchant: take héede now Geniades, it standeth thée on to obeye mée, in all that I shal anywhere, counsell, or commaund thée. To whom Geniades answeared, it were farre besides al order or reason, that the Seruant should prescribe lawes, to his Lord or Gouernour: but Diogenes saide, séemeth it not vnto thée good reason, that the ill af­fected patient, prouidinge to him for his Monie, somme good and learned Phisition, should in al thinges what so euer, obeye and followe him? In manner semblable, the more warely and safely to conducte him, if the good Ma­riner for wage chose to him a Pilote, muste he not doo in all thinges his commaundementes? If then it be true in [Page] this case, as also in the other, concerninge the infirmitie and weakenesse of mans bodie: howe mutche more then ought he, that standeth in néede of counsell, and comfort for the soule, to obey the learned & aduised Philosopher? All these thinges obserued well Geniades: and in euery of his affayres vsed the aduice of Diogenes his Seruant, committinge to his charge, for instruction, his children, whom he in vertues lore, in shorte time mutche profited. In this sorte, and after this manner this Philosopher li­ued ninetie yéeres in this worlde. Somme suppose that he died beynge bitten of a Dogge. Others somme, that seinge him selfe very olde and féeble: without any force nowe, or farther desire to liue, with the very same cou­rage and constancie that he had liued, did him self to die, and made chaunge of life the same daie, that Nature to greate Alexander had for his laste also assigned. A little before his ende, his auditours seinge him so olde, and so neare his death, demaunded him where he meante, or de­sired to be buried: to whom he saide, his desire was to be layde in the wyde and open fielde, whereat they all mer­uaylinge, replied, he ill aduised them, for that in sutche poore, and simple manner bestowed, the Birdes & beastes would deuoure his Carion: then saithe he to auoide that inconuenience, cause yée that my staffe be sette there by mée: at which incontinently they brake out into a laugh­ter, arguinge him forthwith of manifest folly, for that the deade neither seeth nor perceiueth any thinge: to whome, if they lacke (saithe he) these remembred senses, what mattereth it then, if rather the Byrdes & Beastes in their hungrie necessitie, praye on mée, then vnder the Earth I should be of the wormes consumed. Diogenes had none then so greate a desire, to imploye (as dothe many this daie, lesse aduised) their Treasour or Ritches, on pompuous Funeralles.

¶ Of the Excellencye and commendation of Trauayle, as also of the damages that growe of Idlenes. Chap. 13.

IT lyeth vs on, of necessitie, bothe by the Lawes, and Commaundementes of God, to swincke, and toyle in this worlde continually: For our first Father hauing broken the Commaundemente of God, was bannished, and chased out of Paradis Terrestriall: the Earthe lotted to him for his portion, or inheritaunce: with charge not­withstandinge to labour here, in continuall payne, and trauaile. Whiche charge, he neither receiued for any tearme or time, but for euer without ceasse, as longe as he liued: whiche neither appertained to the Firste man onely, but vnto all his Posteritie, and Succession to the ende. And although this necessitie of Trauaile be laide on man, to call him to penance, yet is it a fitte Medicine to asswage the wronge passed: for that by our labour wée regayne that, whiche was loste by disobedience: and so mutch the more (although it be vnto vs a present scourg) for that God hathe condemned nothinge that was of it selfe lesse good, graunting to Man Trauaile, to turne, and laboure the Earthe. Also Iob saithe: That Man is borne onely to sweate, and to payne. Consider againe, howe our Sauiour, and Redéemer Iesus Christe, Mannes onely soueraigne Lorde, and Maister, to the example of vs all, lyued in continuall payne, and labour, euen vntil the time of his Deathe, and Passion. Besides in his Pa­rables, he sharpely rebuketh such as any where consume, and waste the time idlely, imbrasinge all those that are vertuously busied: vsinge in an other place these woordes to this pourpose: Comme vnto mee, all yee that are heauily lo­den, and I will refreashe you. If wée will paine our selues to reade the Scriptures, wée shall finde, that the auncient Sainctes spente all their dayes, and Life, in continuall exercise of Vertue, and Godlinesse. Further, trauaile is not onely conducible to the Soule, but also preserueth [Page] the healthe of the Body. For it by daily practise, becom­meth agile, stronge, and well disposed: in it are augmen­ted, and increased the Vitall Spirites: the naughty, and superflous humours consumed. As touching the minde, it thence exileth all impīous, and vnchaste thoughtes, preuentinge al occasion of errour, and offence. Certaine is it, that nothinge of weightie importance, reacheth without paine to the desired effecte or ende, as on the o­ther side, that ease, that is purchased with paine, is euer more then all others, more pleasaunte, and likinge. He that taketh greate payne, reposeth him selfe in ease: for to the weary man all thinges are fittinge, and agréeant: His Meate to him is swéete, and sauery: He soundly slée­peth without dreame or vision: and all pleasures what­soeuer, are to him bothe gratefull, and acceptable. Who so trauaileth not, nor neuer becommeth wearye, his re­pose to him lendeth vnperfite contentment. But to re­turne to the commodities of the Bodye, woonted exer­cise frameth a man discrete, vigilante, well aduised, and sage: and what els is profitable, thence issueth it, and springeth contintinually vnto man. Trauaile is it that ordinarily prouideth a man of all thinges: the same it is, that frameth to him fayre houses to dwel in: commodi­ous lanes, & pathes to walke in: for the more ease of the poore passenger, greate shippes to crosse, and ouerrunne the tumblinge Seas: and armour to defende vs from the force of the enimie: briefely, innumerable commodities thence take theire beginninge. By Laboure the sterill soyle becommeth fruitefull, and plentuous: to sutche as are drie, and withered, it conueigheth streames of Wa­ter, opening the bowels of the earthe, whence Springes issue abundantly: it aduaunceth the grounde, where so it is behouefull, ouerthrowinge Hilles, and Mountaines that any where annoye vs: it altereth the course of great Riuers, to moyste therewith drye Countries: it also hel­peth, and aydeth Nature, forcinge her to geue foorthe, [Page 33] that of her selfe shée woulde not: it tameth, and maketh gentle the Sauage, and Wilde beaste: it fineth mannes witte, and sharpeneth his memorie, as also the other partes are thence onely quicke, and ready. To conclude, who so acquainteth him selfe with painefull Labours, reapeth thence pleasinge fruites, sutche as him selfe desi­reth. God wil not that his electe possesse Heauen by slée­pinge. If the pompous, & sumptuous buildinges, which thou eche where beholdest: if the ritche Castles, and Pa­laices of Princes: if famous Cities well peopled, séeme to thée greate matters, knowe it to be the Sweatte, and toyle of thine Auncesters. If in manner semblable the Artes, and Sciences contente thée, knowe that they first sprange of the Diuine Labour of sutche as here liued in the forepassed Ages. When so thou beholdest the gréene and pleasaunte Fieldes, daintie Gardens, and well or­dered Vineyardes, accoumpte that they be all the sole fruites of Labour. For the Ideler knoweth not how to frame any thinge, but rather disordereth what so he findeth any where perfected. By buste industry men at­taine to immortall renowme. That was it, that com­mended these Sages to the Posteritie, Plato, Aristotle, Pythagoras, with all the Learned crue: whiche neuer ceaste to payne their bodyes, and mindes, studying, wri­tinge, readinge, and disputinge, not mindinge at all, when they mighte at their pleasure eate, or sléepe, or cu­riously, as most doo, couer their carion: to the vse of these thinges notwithstanding, when necessitie forced them, it was a thousande times to them then more pleasinge, and sauery, then to any of these idle, and delicious glut­tons. Whence commeth it, that Hercules lyueth, to the Posteritie so famous, if not by the meane of his twelue Labours? Whence grewe Alexander so renowmed throughe the worlde? Iulius Caesar also, with infinite excellente Kinges, and Capitaines, if not by theire vigi­lante, and incessante Trauaile? And on the other side, [Page] Sardanapalus, with sutche others, effeminate, as was he, by their carelesse securitie, fell into ruine, and destructi­on, and in the ende died infamous, and miserable wret­ches. By meanes whereof, it lieth euidente, of al menne to be perceiued, that if Idlenesse by painefull care, be not donne to exile, then all Offices muste flide, and comme assuredly to nothinge: Mecanicall Artes, the studie of Learninge, and good Letters: all polices, and Ciuill Go­uernement: Iustice her selfe: the Lawes: and in fine, the Nourses of Wealthe, and Peace, muste all without La­bour and Payne, be subuerted. By her eche where Ver­tue florisheth, and raigneth: and without her, withereth without grace, or verdure: for who so in the Common Weale woulde minister Iustice, muste continually be busied to order thinges rightly. To be shorte, no Ver­tue maie any where be put in execution, without the as­sistance of carefull Payne, and Diligence. Thence com­meth it, that Hesiodus saide, That Vertue was onely by Hesiodus. Sweatte acquired. Aduisedly, if wée will, and exactly consider all, what so euer God hathe in the worlde crea­ted, wée shal finde, that those thinges surpasse the others in perfection, wherein he hathe bestowed moste payne, and trauaile. Beholde wée the Heauenly bodyes, voyde of immutation: the Sunne moueth continually: the Moone aresteth neuer: the Heauens them selues: the Starres, and Planettes, haue benne, are, and shall be in perpetuall motion. The Elemente of Fyre resteth not voide of somme operation: the Ayre without cease turneth it selfe from one place to an other. From the partes beneath, the litle springes and fountaines mount vp perpetually: the Riuers still flote, and shall doo for e­uer: the Sea also vseth his times to comme, and goe: the Earthe, althoughe in déede shée areste her immoueable, (for so is it requisite, to the intente man maie passe on her to and fro indamaged, reposinge him selfe at times, as nature requireth) yet is shée neuerthelesse either idle, [Page 34] or vnbusied, but geueth foorthe to the vse of vs, Hearbes, Plantes, Trées, and Mettalles, as shée that of duetie is bounde to mainteine, and nourishe sutche a number of Men, & Beastes, as on her dwelleth. So that if wee now of these things with iudgyng eie consider, wée shal finde, that Nature so mutche affecteth nothinge, as without ceasse continually to busie her selfe in toile, & trauaile, as to forme, frame, make, and vnmake, to produce, to ouer­throwe, to alter, and to chaunge, to perfecte, and orga­nise thinges in their kinde: not reastinge, or surceassing by any manner of meanes in the worlde. For confirma­tion whereof, the Olde, & Aunciente forepassed Philoso­phers, neuer thought that they had spoken enough in cō ­mendation, & praise of vertuous exercises. Virgil saithe, that incessant Labour surmounteth all thinges. Horace in his Sermons, that God to man hathe geuen nothing without Payne, and Trauaile. Euripides, Trauaile is the Father of Honour, and Renowme: and that God as­sisteth him (saith he) that liueth in Sweate. And againe, That, that onely is the pathe vnto Vertue: & without it, there is no honour, praise, or good aduenture. Menander the Poete writeth, and in my fansie aduisedly, that he, who in healthe lyueth at any time idlely, with more ieo­pardye hasardeth, then the afflicted, of an Ague. Like grace also hathe in these woordes, Democritus, Volunta­ry Labour, sauereth of no Payne. Hermicon, beinge de­maunded whence he had learned his Science: Of La­bour (saide he) and of longe experience. Pythagoras com­maundeth, that man lyue honestly, and that he neuer leaue, in Vertue, to payne, and weary him selfe: for cu­stome (saithe he) in the ende, maketh it pleasaunte, and likinge. Salomon referreth the Ideler, to the example of the Ante. If I shoulde here remember all the examples of those, that by Payne haue posses [...]e the Chaire of Ho­nour, longer should I dwel hereon, then necessity requi­reth. It sufficeth then, in fewe to saie, that there was [Page] neuer man famous in Martiall affayres, or Chiualrye, in Learninge, or els in chaste, and Vertuous manners, in no kinde of Science, or Arte Mecanical, but by con­tinuance of Sweatte, and Trauaile. And further, no one in the whole troupe of Loyterers, was euer in any Age renowmed with Vertues Title: or if any such were borne of Honourable Race, or Lineage, certaine is it, that he either came to ruine, and miserye, or otherwise loste his Honour, and Lyfe: or at the leaste, he no where coulde with warrante assure him selfe: Damage, & shame the onely and infallible fruites of foolishe idlenesse, and securitie: of whiche also springe vices innumerable, as is in Ecclesiasticus approued in these woordes: Idlenesse in­gendereth all kindes of mischiefe. Ouid remembreth, that Venerye is no where thought on, but onely emong nice, and delicate Idelers: for (saithe he) who so he be, lesse bu­sied in Vertue, imagineth vnchaste thinges, and inuen­teth Treasons, puttinge in execution all vice, and trea­chery. Ezechiel accoumpteth Idlenesse, emonge y^e other Sinnes, for whiche Sodome was, in sutche sorte as wée reade, destroyed. And for my parte, I knowe no thinge, that with the slouthefull man prospereth. The fire, if it be not fostred, and couered with Woode, it fainteth, and wasteth, and in the ende is extinguished. The Ayre, in obscure, and darke place, voide of desired motion, be­commeth foorthewith noysomme, and infectious. The Water depriued of her course in runninge, putrifieth without staye, annoyeth, and impoyseneth. If the Earth be not opened & laboured, shée geueth none other fruites but Brembels, Thornes, Thistles, or sutche like. Golde, that desired mettall, if it be not wrought and polished, looseth vtterly his bewtie: yron also, with others the semblable, if not continually laboured and kepte, ruste & waste, as experience learneth vs. Whole Prouinces, and Countries, not inhabited or peopled, are euermore bar­ren and very infectious, in sutch sorte that it appeareth, [Page 35] trauaile to be thereof the sole, & onely Medicine. Houses and fayre lodgynges not inhabited, fal into ruine. Highe waies, and common pathes, not frequented or vsed, are in shorte time closed, and shutte vp againste the passen­ger: whence it now is open, and manifest, that whatso­euer lieth vnused or vnlaboured, shortly consumeth and wasteth to nothinge. Example in man, whose wittes if they be not in continuance of studie exercised, waxe can­kered, and with paine performe the woonted duetie: the harte and minde also languishe and fainte, as vnable to doo any thinge: and in fine all their forces quaile and fall as dismayde. As I then before haue sayde, that conti­nuall exercise frameth man agile, and disposed to all thinges: so saye I nowe, on the contrary, that idle secu­ritie annoyeth the complexion, and wasteth the good hu­mours, increasinge the superfluous, in excesse in mans body. Galene saithe, that it is a thinge vnpossible, that a man should liue not labouringe his body. Auicenna to the same accordeth, as also Cornelius Celsus, with others very famous and excellent Phisitions. The Horse him selfe, with others sutche, brute, and dull beastes, beinge pampered still in stable, loose their pase, and other quali­ties. The shippe that still rideth at Anker in the Hauen, geathereth mothes & rotteth, but dothe not so in voyage. The Souldier then marreth, when he longe time repo­seth him selfe, voyde of feare and carelesse. Againe it is reported, that the improuident securitie of Hannibal at Capua, was the onely cause that the Romaines gaue him there the ouerthrowe. Who so in Battaile beste trauer­seth him grounde, fighteth, as is knowen, in moste assu­red safetie, but to him that loy [...]ereth, and arresteth him in his place, many daungers are assigned, and ineuitable discommodities: the sunne also on him, more then on the others, hath greater aduantage. The Archer neuer shoo­teth to the birde that fleeth, but to her that arresteth her, or pearcheth any where, bendeth he his Bowe, and fit­teth [Page] his boltes. Further wée sée, that all kinde of instru­meutes, not touchte or playde on, immediatly becomme discordante, harrishe, & vnpleasant: but kepte in hande, & continually plaide on, féedeth the hearer with swéete notes and pleasant Harmonie. Some kindes of Wine are there, which vnlesse they be continually wrought too and fro in their vessels, corrupte and putrifie, to be ser­ued to no man. The precious & riche stoane not wrought and polished, lacketh his naturall commendation and grace, but perfected by the skilfull and light hande of the Iueller, maketh shew of it self, and commendeth his ver­tue: yea the yron it selfe, the more often that in any your vses you imploye it, the brighter shall his Glasse be, and the fayrer still it looketh. Emonge brute beastes, these are to Man moste likinge, and acceptable, whiche moste can sustaine, of weary Payne, & Trauaile. Here might wée auoche, and alleage sundrye the opinions, as well of Poetes, as also Philosophers, condemninge with one mouthe the vnprofitable Ideler, whose onely authorities mighte accomplishe, and perfecte that, whiche wée pre­sently labour to proue in many. The Sainctes them selues, and Holy Fathers of the time past, accurse them: the louers of Vertue, and the Learned deteste them: O­uid, Plato, Horace, Claudian, & Virgil, with all the whole heape of learned Poetes write, and [...]gh continually againste them: eche Historie besides is full of the discom­modities ensuinge Idlenesse. Plato, and Aristotle con­demninge this voice, exalte aboue measure, the practise of Chinalrie: whence, what so euer in Warre is necessa­rie, is skilfully eche where put in dre, and practised. The Emperour Adrian, on a time aduaunced one Turbus, a Turbus. carefull, and trustie Minister in the affayres of his Mai­ster: whom on a time as the Emperour beholde, too pain­fully busied, as him selfe thoughte then presently, saide: I woulde not, Turbus, that then shouldest kill thy selfe, or with too muche perseuerance, hazarde thine estate. To [Page 36] whom he answeared: if it please your sacred Maiestie, the man that is fauoured, and aduaunced by an Emperour; muste on his féete die where he goeth busied. Q. Curtius Q. Curtius. saithe: that the maladies or infirmities, whiche issue or springe of idlenesse, are perfectly plaistered by woon [...]ed exercise. The Olde Romaines accustomed to beginne their daie continually at midnight, to the intent that in the morninge, at the firste shewe, or appearinge of the Sunne, eche man in his vocation might followe his af­fayres: and farther they also thought, that euen then the one halfe of the daye was paste without any profite, or good at all donne. A certaine Romaine on a time per­swaded with the Senate, that they shoulde not in any wise distroye or sacke Carthage, to the ende, that beinge possest thereof, they might not liue in continuall quiet, and idle securitie. To this purpose Scipio Nasica saide: S. Nasica▪ consideringe that somme assured then, the presente state of Rome, for that Carthage was then tributorie, and Greece subdued, naye rather saide he, wée nowe liue in daunger and hazarde, for that wée at this time, dreade or feare no enimie. By whiche his answeare, he this mutch inferred that surceasinge nowe from Armes, and bathed in delices, this their security more hazarded their estate, then the warres, or any other their Neighbours, eni­mies to the Empire. And againe, Feare (saith he) more assuredly warrenteth the estate of Rome, then carelesse to liue, as though no man durste to touche vs. Vnto the which woordes or aduice of Scipio, the French Prouerbe answeareth of parte, not vnaptly. Better is it to loose, then to cease or be idle. Apuleus highly commended the Apulcus▪ Maisters of Defence, or swoordeplayers of his time, who in sutche sorte detested all kinde of Loyterers, that the Maisters in that Science, neuer woulde permitte their Schollers to eate, before thei had fully accomplished and ended some commendable exployte, & laudable practise. Cicero to this purpose remembereth these woordes: Man [Page] is borne to be busied i [...] vertuous exercises, whereof (saith be) our Soule or Minde is a sufficient argument, whiche no where, or at no time, arresteth her idly. Emonge all other decrées, of the renowmed Draco, Lawegeuer to the Draco. Athenians, none was more woorthy of commendation then this, that he punisshed with deathe, all those that a­ny where, were founde vnbusied, or that walkte vp and downe idlely for their pastime and pleasure. Howe the Gentiles were affected towardes all those, that perseue­red in any vertuous actions, is euidente, for that to this purpose especially and aboue all others, they had in Ad­oration thrée Idolles, or Goddesses: the first hight Stre­nua, whiche is to saie, Dexteritie: the seconde Agenoria, Three Idolles of the Gentiles. whiche signifieth, Virilitie: the thirde Stimula, whiche soundeth as mutche as a Spurre of honour or Vertue: in sutche sorte reuerenced they incessant trauaile, that they erected these thrée Idolles in the name of them, to be re­uerenced for euer. But wée will not arrest our selues on the opinion of the Gentiles, but will descende to the au­thoritie of the Scriptures, whiche no lesse bindeth vs to the aboue remembered, then it chargeth vs to abstayne from thinges that be prophaned. Salomon in his Pro­uerbes, emonge many other places where he sharply ar­gueth idlenesse, in one, to this ende, vttereth these woordes: He that in Winter ceaseth from labour, shal re­ceiue for his portion, indigent beggerie. S. Paule, a Do­ctour emonge the Gentiles, neuer ioyed so mutche for a­ny thinge, as for that he at no time was founde a Tre­uante, or Loyterer, extollinge aboue al thinges, paineful Laboure. In this sorte writeth he to the Thessalonians, admonishinge them in al thinges to imitate him, for ne­uer was he founde idle emonge them, ne at any time did he eate, not hauinge firste deserued it: he toyled daie, and nighte, not to annoye, but by al meanes to profite them. And againe, Who so laboureth not, neither muste he eate, as is commaunded. To the Corinthians in manner semblable, [Page 37] he writeth, remembringe them, for their better instructi­on, of his restlesse Payne, and incessant Trauaile, which the same he also doothe in many other places. Imploye wée then hereafter, our time in vertuous exercises, auoi­ding, to the vttermoste of our power, y^e contrary: whence neuer issueth any thinge that is commendable. Neither geue wée this our commaundement with sutch extreame vigor, as thoughe wée woulde haue no time exempted to eate, drinke, sléepe, & honestly repose vs: for these thinges are necessarie, as also moderate recreation at times is likewise commendable. For this cause Cicero so mutch extolleth Scipio, in that he saide, that he neuer was lesse idle, then when in déede he was idle. And further ad­deth Cicero, that this sayinge of his was moste assuredly and doubtlesse notable, for that thereby he gaue others to vnderstande, that when he idly, had arested him from his studies, he then notwithstanding had in minde the whole course of his affayres, and that then, and at suche times, of them, he earnestly, and with aduice consulted with him selfe. Seneca the Morall Poete affirmeth, that Seneca. Idlenesse without somme practise of studie, or good Let­ters, is to man a very perfecte Graue or Sepulchre: and that those that studie Wisedome, are they, that féele and enioye the true Idlenesse. Plutarche writeth, that the Wise man spendeth his time in the onely exercise of ver­tue and Learninge. Let Man then aduise him howe he spende his time, whiche passeth without staye, and is al­togeather vncertaine, for that he muste yéelde a straite accoumpte thereof, yea and of eche woorde that shal passe him rashely. Cato, though he were a Panym, yet coulde Cato. he thus muche saie, that all greate and hawtie persona­ges were as well bounde to yéelde an accoumpte of their time, without profite spente, as to receiue iuste guerdon for that they well had imployed. For conclusion, in suche honest exercises, shoulde wée passe our fewe dayes, that wée mighte reape the fruite thereof in the Kingedome of [Page] God, whiche is prouided for those that are called into the Vineyarde, to Laboure it, where they shall receiue the dette to them belonginge. To this pourpose sutche fit­tinge woordes vseth S. Iohn: Blessed are those that die in the Lorde, for that their Spirites repose them nowe in quiet from all Labour: but theire Woorkes, and theire trauailes, sutche as they were, shall folowe them. Whiche authoritie well proueth, that paine onely and trauaile, is the Marchandice of this worlde, whiche is bought, solde, and deliuered into Hea­uen, as S. Paule him selfe not vnfitly remembreth, wher­as he saith, that eche man shal receiue his Salery or pay­ment, according to that he hath trauailed in this worlde.

¶ Howe detestable a matter Crueltie is, with somme examples seruinge to that pourpose. Chap. 14.

AMonge all other vices repugnant to mans Na­ture, whiche also yéelde men moste abominable, & Monsterous, Crueltie is assuredly the chiefe and principall: for as mutche as Man, a Creature moste Ho­norable, framed to the Image and similitude of God, borne to vse courtesie & compassion, by Crueltie is trans­formed into a brute beaste, terrible, furious, of nature accursed, and enimie to God, who is the sole & soueraigne Clemencie. Aristotle saithe, that Crueltie, fiercenesse & inhumanitie, are vices incident to some sauage & wilde beaste. Seneca in his seconde Booke of Clemencie, ter­meth it the execrable felony of the Soule, whence he con­cludeth it opposite and contrary to the vertue of compas­sion and humilitie. Crueltie is capitall enimie of Iustice, and of reason: and mutche worse is this vice then eyther pryde or malice: for that wrothe or malice, séemeth to procéede of somme certaine displeasure, as when wée be­holde any one, that either annoyeth or wrongeth an o­ther: but emonge sutche as in their Crueltie, outrage, wée finde many that euen laughinge, and withoute any [Page 38] suspition of crime, onely of pure malice and disdaine, mi­serably doo to die, & murther the innocent. So is it then a capitall enimie to Iustice, whiche permitteth not any, fautlesse, to smarte of vndeserued paine: as it on the o­ther side also chargeth with moderate, and measurable correction the fautie or culpable, without respecte of per­son. Seneca in his Booke of manners, saithe: That com­monly wée terme those, mercilesse tormentors, that in correction of vices holde no kinde of measure: what title then to those menne shall wée iustly attribute, that by straunge deuised meanes, soyle them in Innocent and harmelesse bloudde? Examples of sutche Monsters wée reade infinite, emonge whome, wée finde Herode Kinge of the Iewes, which raigned in the birthe of our Sauiour Christe. Who after the deathe of so many innocentes, thinkinge emong them also to haue slaine him, who then was newly for mans redemption borne, would yet make more ample, and more ful shew of his tyrannie, not one­ly in the time of his wretched life, but also in the instant and moment of his death: so that him selfe perceiuinge his death to approche, caused to be assembled al the chiefe of Hierusalem: whom, as soone as they at his commaund­ment appeared, he caused without staye to be safely im­prysoned: geuinge charge to his Sister, that in the same pointe of time that he shoulde make chaunge of life, shée also should doo to die all the foresaide Elders, whiche to doo, shée fayled, God workinge to the contrary. Whiche thinges he did (as him selfe somewhat before his deathe confessed) for that he knew the inhabitantes of Hierusa­lem woulde reioyce of his chaunge, and to the intente it otherwise might succéede to the people, then they at that time assuredly supposed, he of accursed and detestable pretence, to the intent they al in that day should mourne and lamente, determined to cause to be donne that hor­rible murther. The tyrannie also of Abimelech, Sonne of Gedeon the Greate, was no lesse straunge and mar­ueilous, [Page] for the intente he onely might raigne alone, he trayterously slewe thrée scoare of his Brethren, whose mercilesse hande none escaped but onely Ionathas, which by the onely permission of God, fledde, to the intent the Ionathas. Traytour might neuer liue without suspition, or feare of reuenge. And yet here againe is it doubtfull to saye, whether the treachery that he vsed towardes the Sichi­mites, were more tollerable then this or not: on whom, for that they had chaste him out of their Citie, into which afterwardes reentering by force in the night, reuenged him selfe by the vniuersall slaughter of them all, for he committed to the swoorde all them that he there founde, Man, Wooman, yonge and olde, and certaine suche as for there safetie ranne into the Churches, he foorthwith in­uironned with greate heapes of woode, whiche as soone as it had taken fire, the heate and smooke thereof was sutche, & so intollerable, that the prysoners that thought to haue liued in assured Sanctuarye, were scortcht eche one, and wasted there miserably to powder, this after he had then distroyed the whole Towne, with ploughe he turned in despite the soyle, coueringe it with Salte in stéede of other grayne. A. Regulus, by the people of Car­thage, was in manner semblable intreated, who beynge A. Regulus. there prysoner, vpon his promisse of gainecome, was sente vnto the Romaines, to conclude a peace, or at the least to practise the permutation of Captiues, but beinge returned, lesse answearing their expectation (not by con­strainte, but for performance of his promisse) was shutte vp, into a greate pype or tunne, thicke sette with sharpe nayles pearsinge on euery side, so that he coulde on no side, either leane or arrest him selfe, in whiche sorte they did him cruelly to die. All Tirannes are ordinarily of nature cruell, but who so of them is blouddy, is more ex­ecrable then the others. Phalaris Kinge of Sicilia, a most wretched tyranne, who although he executed sundrie without cause or reason, yet, in truthe and iustly to con­sider [Page 39] of him, he was in harte and affection then in déede more cruell. This manquayler had a Bull of Brasse, whiche one Perillus had skilfully wrought him, in which A Bull of Brasse. when he had inclosed, whom he minded to torment, ha­uinge vnder the sayde Bull a greate and hoate fire, the poore patient gaue foorth thence his sorowfull Notes, as though it had benne the bellowinge of an Oxe: whiche he did to this intente onely: that by the lamentable shrikes vnder a Bulles voyce vttered, he mighte in no wise be moued to pitie or compassion. One thinge did he while he liued honestly, for the first that euer he tormen­ted in this his Brassy Bull, was Perillus him selfe, the authour thereof. Straunge was the vnnaturall and vn­reuerent Crueltie, practised by Tullia, doughter to Tar­quine Kinge of y^e Romaines, which to inioye the Crowne, caused her Father before his time to be murthered, which him selfe would haue geuen her, had shée neuer so litle tarried: and that whiche is more agayne in her to be noted, her Fathers bodye layde forthe deade on the grounde, shée aduaunced her selfe in her coche, inconti­nently, paste foorth ouer it, at al not appalled, & although the Horses that drewe her, trembled at that sighte, and would haue chosen some other waie to haue paste it, the Cocheman also that draue them, féeling somme pricke of conscience, would in like manner haue chosen some other pathe, to the intent the Kinge beinge dead, might not be so shamefully dismembred & brused: but so much stil plea­sed shée in her cruell affection, that euen that whiche the insensible beastes of pitie would haue refused, in despite shée brake them of that their choyse & will, forcinge them to passe ouer the martyred body of her Father. The Sci­thians, a people in warre very furious and valiante, are in sundrie Histories taxed of Crueltie. But emonge other sortes, this one geueth ful cause of marueile: They would kill greate beastes, as Oxen, or Horses, in whose bellies they inclosed sutche as they meante to execute, [Page] whom they caused in sutch sorte, & so faste to be bounde, that they neuer coulde moue, or by any meanes comme thence: where continually they gaue them (as nature as­keth) somme thinge to eate, to the intents that they ly­uinge thus, might rotte, and corrupte with the stinking carrion of the beaste, theire Graue or Sepulchre: and to aggrauate the matter, that they might be also consumed lyuinge, by the wormes that of custome growe still in sutche lothesome, as were these, and putrified carrions. Wée reade agayne of Maximianus, Emperour of Rome, who also practised so horrible a Cruelty, as hardly might enter into the harte of man: He bounde men lyuinge, to sutche as were deade, which he caused to be leaft straitly in this sorte coupled, vntill the deade had infected, and impoysoned the liuinge. The very semblable to this, re­cordeth Virgil of Maxentius. Agayne wée finde of the straunge tyrannies practised by Alexander Fereas, who buried men quicke, linckte face to face, and grapled fast, as before, togeather. Others somme he woulde apparell in the skinne of a Woulfe, or other Sauage and Wilde beaste: whom, after he had in beste manner so attyred, caused to be carried out into the middle of somme fielde, where he bayted them with Mastyues, vntill they were miserably dismembred and eaten. I knowe not whether any man maie heare to speake of the accursed bouchery practised by Astiages, Kinge of the Medes, againste Arpa­lus, one of his greatest States, and approued friende in Somme others haue Harpagus necessitie. This Astiages, by occasion of a Dreame, which here to recoumpte shoulde be longe and tedious, gaue to Arpalus in secrete, commission, spéedely to dispatche and murther a yonge Sonne of his: who moued with com­passion, beholdinge the poore infante (whiche afterwarde had to name, Cyrus the Greate) as also that he feared the Moother of the yonge Prince woulde in no wise accom­plish that commaundement of Astiages, but on the other side dissemblinge it, did his carefull paine safely to foster [Page 40] him. Longe after, the Tyrante aduertised that his childe yet then lyued, without semblant of displeasure, called vnto him, Arpalus, whom in consideration of his clemen­cie vsed towardes the little Cyrus, priuily did to be slaine a yonge Sonne of his: callinge the daye folowinge the Father to him to dinner, whome emonge other meates he fedde with the bodye of his owne childe: of whiche Feaste, the vnhappy Father had no kinde of misliking, as one that knewe nothinge whereof he had eaten. Asti­ages not yet contente with this insupportable Tyranny, procéedeth yet further with an vnhearde crueltie: for in stéede of the laste Seruis, or Dishes of pleasance, he cau­sed in large Chargers solemnely to be serued in, the heade, féete, and handes of the yonge Martyred childe, vnto the good Father, to the onely intente he should not be vnwéetinge that he then had banqueted, and eaten of his owne Sonne. Marius and Silla, twoo capitall eni­mies, on bothe sides so raged in execrable Tyrannye, that thei contended, as appeareth, who might surmount and surpasse the other in villanye. Silla bouchered in one daye foure Legions of Souldiers. The Prenestines also, a people of Italye, crauinge with teares his fauoure and grace, for that they had receiued the Capitaine Ma­rius, coulde notwithstandinge by no meanes escape his cruell hande. For generally without excertion he mur­thered them all, and gaue their bodyes for a praye to the Crowes, and Rauens to féede on. The semblable did al­so Marius his Companion in bouchery. The Emperour Tiberius, Successour to Octauian, surpassed, I trowe, all others in his time: who after his fainte clemencie in the entraunce of his Raygne, passed no daye, in whiche he spilte not the bloude of somme Innocentes. Besides, he diuised sutche a mercilesse policie, as tofore hadde neuer benne in any place hearde of: he inhibited, that vnder payne of deathe, none shoulde be so hardye, to deplore, lamente, or make any shewe of mournefull semblant at [Page] the deathe of those, that it shoulde please him any waye, for any cause to execute. A Crueltie straunge, and suche as hathe not benne knowen: for I déeme there can be no greater paine, then to inhibite the poore harte, that it vn­loade and discharge not it self of his dolours, by alarmes & teares. Also when he did to die any yonge maydens, he firste committed them to his Tormentours to be de­flowred of them, to the intent that with their death, they togeather shoulde lose their honour, and Chastitie. He so much was pleased in spillinge of bloude, that vnderstan­dinge one had staine him selfe, whom he before had Sen­tenced to death, of pourpose to escape his mercilesse, and cruell hande, sighed with hawtie voice in lamentable manner, sayinge: Oh howe vnhappely hathe this Crows escaped mée (by whiche name it pleased him to note the Condemned). For you muste vnderstande, that he in sutch sorte tormented the poore patient, before he would suffer him by any meanes to die: that they supposed pre­sente deathe to be to them bothe a gaine, and a grace. Straunge were it to write, what inuentions he vsed, & newe tormentes in Execution. Sommetime he forced the Condemned excessiuely to drinke, and immediately woulde cause the Cundittes of their Vrine so straitly to be bounde, that they by no meanes possible mighte ease them selues that waye: and so woulde he suffer them, in excessiue paine to languishe, till deathe shoulde take or­der, for chaunge of theire life. And further, for his sale and onely pleasure, he caused other somme to be throwne into the Sea, from an excéedinge highe Cliffe, or Rockys banke in the Ile of Capraire, adioyninge vnto Naples: and for because that after that sorte to die in the Sea, was, as he thoughte, a deathe too gentle, he caused cer­taine Marriners, and others, with Pikes and sharpe weapons in Boates to stande directly vnderneathe the saide Rocke, whiche receiued, and bloudely martyred the miserable patientes, before they might enioye the be­nefite [Page 41] of the Water. Nowe after the shameful deathe of this incarnate Deuill, such in déede as him selfe had wel deserued, Caius Caligula succéeded in the Empire: who either was equall, or rather surpassed his Predecessours in all kinde of monsterous, & accursed tyrannies. He on a time, with greate affection wished, that all the Inha­bitauntes of Rome had togeather but one heade, to the intent that at one blowe he might strike it of. He strang­ly complained of the infelicitie of his time, for that there chaunced not, during his Raigne, any Famine, Plague, Generall Inundations, Subuersions, and Diuastations of Countries, with many sutche other dreadfull, and mi­serable calamities. Of a certaine man he demaunded, bannished by Tiberius, howe he liued, or what he did du­ringe his Exile: who in perfecte flattery answeared, that he incessantly had praied to God, to call hence Tiberius, to the ende that he mighte succéede him without staye in the Empyre. Whiche thinge considered of by this mon­sterous Traytour, and doubtinge leaste so many thou­sandes whiche he had exiled, shoulde in like manner pray to God for his deathe, sente foorthewith into all partes to call them home againe: whom immediately after their spéedie returne, he commaunded to be executed without respect of any. He straitly charged all his Tormentours that they by litle and litle shoulde tormente the afflicted Innocentes, so that by small paines they might beginne to die, protractinge their death as longe as was possible: for he would (he saide) that they felte howe their life fai­led in them. He also saide, that others eftsoones, of his complexion saide, The people wishe me ill, for that they feare mée. After this, Caligula succéeded Nero in execra­ble malice, not at all his inferiour. For proufe whereof, he practised sutch a mercilesse tyrannie, as wel in it com­prised all other petie Treacheries. For without any re­garde to thinges holy or prophane, to the Maiestrate, what so euer he were, or priuate Subiecte, he caused the [Page] Citie of Rome to be sette on fire, inhibitinge all men vn­der paine of deathe, by any meanes what so euer, to quenche or asswage it: neuer woulde he that any man shoulde saue any parte of his goodes. So continued this fire, wastinge and consuminge the Cittie, seuen dayes fully & seuen nightes, to the ende him selfe out of a highe Tower, not farre of, beholdinge it, reioysinge at this do­lorous, and mournefull spectacle. He with villanous hande murthered his owne proper Moother. He also did to die the Husbandes of Octauiana, and Sabina, bothe Octaniana, and Sabina. whiche he marryed, but soone after beraughte them in manner semblable of theire liues. Assuredly this was he, that beyonde all others raged moste in crueltie: for he was the firste that persecuted the Christians, and in his time was the first, & greatest Persecution of the Church. He made open she we of his surpassinge crueltie, of his vnmeasurable, and furious brutalitie: for hearinge on a time a Greeke verse, in effecte thus mutche signifiynge:

But I farre otherwise would, that it chaunced by my life time (saide he). I coulde well be contented to take mine examples from barbarous Princes, not touchinge any more the Emperours of Rome, but the Successours againe of the aboue remembred, in life and manners so outragious and execrable, force mée to dwell stil emonge them, rippinge and vnfoldinge their tragicall insolencie of Domitianus, Vitellius, Commodus, Maximianus, and others theire semblables, I speake at all nothinge. But of Diocletian (whose manners so vnsauerye, and bestiall furie, Eusebius in his Ecclesiasticall Histories reciteth) Sommething muste I speake, before I passe him vtterly, to the intente that all blasphemers, and féeble Christi­ans of our time, maie sée what they suffered in the Pri­mitiue [Page 42] Churche, for that they neuer leaft to acknowledg theire Lorde and Sauiour Christe. This wretche tray­ned many at the tayles of Horses throughe the streates, whom, after he had in moste despitefull manner broken and brused, ordeined that they immediately shoulde be broughte backe againe to prison, where he lodged them not able to moue, on prickinge sheardes, and sharpe pée­ces of earthen pottes broken, to the ende that lyinge on so restlesse a couche, theire paine mighte be double to the other aboue remembred. Sommetimes by Ingins, and policies he caused to be bowed downe, the armes and braunches of greate and highe trées, to whiche he would binde the legges of the Condemned, and then suddaine­ly letting againe the braunches to slippe, tent them most lamentably in pieces, and quarters. In the Citie of Ale­xandria he caused to be cutte of, the eares, the noses, the lippes, the handes, and the toes of infinite innocent, and harmelesse Subiectes, onely leauinge to them their e [...]es, the longer to liue and dwell in that payne. He made to be sharpened many splinters of woode, whiche, as farre as was possible, he caused to be thruste in betwixte the nayles and the fleashe. Into boylinge Tinne or Leade, other somme he did aliue to be throwen: & wéemen faste bounde to Scaffoldes or Fourmes, he commaunded to be scortcht with hotte yrons on the backe. So that by these meanes, spilling still innocent bloud, without any féelinge what he thereby did, sente vnto Heauen greate numbers of Soules, holy, pleasinge, and acceptable to God: whiche oft times vseth the mercilesse Tyrante for an instrumente, whereby he glorifieth the iuste, and chosen. These strange Cruelties, and news diuised tor­mentes, are written in approued and faithful Authours: of whiche, the greatest parte wée haue taken out of the Scriptures: the reste are readde in Iosephus, in his Anti­quities, and Warre Iudaicall, in Suetonius Tranquillus, Plutarchus, T. Liuius, Iustinus, Valerius Maximus, Euse­bius, [Page] P. Orosus, Iulius Capitolinus, with others of no lesse credite, and authoritie.

¶ How for the most parte, cruell Kinges, and Blouddy tyrannes are the Ministers of God: and howe notwithstandinge they continually ende in state moste wretched, and ex­treame miserie. Chap. 15.

WHho so hath, or liueth subiecte vnder any of these accursed Monsters, muste for his consolation or comforte consider, that for the most parte though they be terrible and cruell, yet be they notwithstanding the Mi­nisters of God. The Scriptures in many places, as wée finde still, termeth them by no woorse title, then the ser­uantes of God, for that by them, it hath pleased him to chastice the wicked, perfectinge and confirminge to him selfe, sutche as loue and feare him. The Hebrewes were longe time gouerned by Iudges and Priestes, amonge whom, when Samuel waxed féeble and olde, the malice of the people, and contempte of God eche where growyng, Kinges then from God, at theire requeste were geuen them, whiche chastisement (for greater then that mighte neuer any haue chaunced them) they receiued as hauinge before bothe deserued and desired it: Samuel therefore was geuen them for Kinge, who in the beginninge was méeke and mercifull, but shortly after became tyrannous and cruell, spoilinge them of whatsoeuer they had, with­out respecte in theire possession, as also of theire desired fréedome and libertie. Who although he were voyde of no kinde of vice, yet in Holy write is he called the anoin­ted of God, by meane whereof the people were amazed and trembled. But leaue wée here him, as also al others, whiche bothe knewe the Lawe, and liued vnder it: and turne wée our penne, to write of Idolaters, whiche also are called the Ministers of God in the Scriptures, for this saithe our Sauiour by the mouthe of Esaie: I will, that [Page 43] my Capitaines enter at the gates of Babylon, I haue commaun­ded my Holy ones, and haue called togeather my menne valiant, and disposed in my wrothe, to the intente they glorifie themselues togeather in my Glory. The Prophete spake these woordes, of the twoo Kinges, Cyrus and Darius. Behold then how he calleth the Medes, & the Persians sanctified, which not­withstanding neither were, either iuste or sanctified, but onely executours of Gods iuste will, for the punishment of Babylon. And in an other place by the Prophete Eze­chiel: I will bringe forthe my Seruant Nabuchodonosor, and because he hath well serued me nighe vnto Tyre, Aegypte will I also geue him in possession. Yet was he not the Seruant of God, for as mutche as he neither serued him, knew him, or any waie beleued in him: onely he executed his Iustice on the rebellious, and in this respect was called his Ser­uante. The accursed Totila Kinge of the Gothes, was named the Scourge of God, and reputed for the same. The greate Tamburlayne, that raygned not so many yéeres hence, a Capitayne no lesse blouddy then valiant, which also subdued so many Countries, and Prouinces: beinge demaunded, why he so more then tyrannously v­sed his Captiues, whereunto he answeared: forewrap­ped in coller. Supposest thou me to be any other, then the yre of God? whence wée haue in fine to conclude, that all sutche cruell and incarnate Deuils, are instruments wherewith God chastiseth sinne, as also, with the same approueth, and trieth the iuste: and yet they notwith­standinge are not hence helde for iuste, ne shall they escape the heauy iudgement of God. For necessarie is it, that example of ill happen, but woe be vnto him, by whom it happeneth. Further in this life, God assuredly at sometime dothe punish them, besides that in an other worlde, Hell & damnation is certainely allo [...]ted them. Neither at any time hath it almoste benne séene, as wée haue remembered in the forepassed Chapiter, but that sutche Mercilesse, and Transubstantiate Monsters, haue [Page] died of somme violent, and ignominious deathe. Pha­laris was miserably consumed in the same Bull, in which he had tormented many an innocent, roringe the same Notes, whiche he to heare of others, had to fore, so great likinge. Plutarche recordeth, that Silla was filthely de­uoured of Lyse, & that he neuer coulde finde any playster for that payne: And Pline farther saithe, that he died in sutche sorte tormented, that with extreame and misera­ble anguishe, he gnewe, teare, and with his téeth horri­bly dismembred his owne lothsome body and deformed carrion. Marius also his Capitall enimie a perfecte pa­terne of bestiall feritie, fell in the ende into sutche ex­treame miserie, that flyinge and séekinge a place to hide him in, was gladde to laye his Heade in the handes of Poncius Teselinus, to the intent that he shoulde strike it of. The Emperoure Tiberius was stifled betwixte twoo pillowes, or bolsters, and so ended in the handes of his owne Seruantes: How be it Suetonius saith that he was impoysoned. Caligula that infernall furie, after he had receiued thirtie great woundes, by Chereus, as well, and Cornelius Sabinus, as also by the others of that coniura­tion, made chaunge of life, to the contentation of many. Cruell Nero before he died, was depriued of his Honour and Empyre, iudged and pronounced an enimie Capi­tall to Rome, and hidinge him selfe in an infectious sinke of mans ordure, woulde there haue slayne him selfe, but his forces fayled him, in the execution of that so merito­rious a déede, whence he vsed in that exployte the heal­pinge hande of an other, & so in wrestinge and mowinge with his euill fauoured mouthe, gaue foorthe his Spirite to the whole Senate of Diuels. Diocletian in manner semblable depriued of the Empyre, died of poyson, by his owne handes ministred. Domician, beinge by Stepha­nus, Saturnus, Maximus & others, in seuen sundry places déepely wounded, departed hence to Nero, to raygne with him for euer. Tullia, of whom wée haue somethinge [Page 44] aboue remembered, banished from Rome, died no lesse a begger, then a wretche most miserable. Astiages, graund­father to Cyrus, whom, he commaunded Arpalus priuely to murther, (to whome for that he had not executed his commaundement, he gaue to be eaten in banquette his owne Sonne) was deposed by Gods iuste iudgement, by the very same Cyrus. Herode also, with others infinite, whom all to remember here, woulde be longe and tedi­ous, died a death to the others not dissemblable. Lette those therefore, that rule and gouerne the world, in any wise leaue to be blouddy & cruell, leaninge on the staffe of compassion and clemencie, to the intent they maye liue assured of the hartes of their vassaules: for the beste assurance of his state that the Prince may haue, is to be beloued of his people and Subiectes.

¶ Of a straunge case, whiche at twoo diuerse times chaunced, after one and the same sorte, vnto twoo Romayne Knightes of Honorable Families. Chap. 16.

THe chiefe and principall that conspired the death of Iulius Caesar, (as Plutarche at large with others recordeth) were Brutus and Cassius, whiche bothe with all their adherentes were after exiled, declared for open enimies to the Romaines, by Octauian, Lepidus, & Marcus Antonius, who commaunded as they pleased throughout the whole Citie. Of the faction of Brutus and Cassius, was Marcus Varro, one emonge all the others of moste fame & honour, who beinge in the fielde with the other coniurates, were discomfited by Octauian and Marcus Antonius, who the better to saue, if he might his life, and to be reputed for none other then a common Souldier, chaunged foorthwith & incontinently his ap­parell, thrustinge him selfe into the heape or company of Captiues, and so without more adoo was solde for vile price emonge the others, vnto a certaine Romayne who [Page] hight Barbulas: who within very fewe dayes, percei­uinge well his honest demeanoure & dealinge, supposed him to be (as truthe was) a Romayne, although in very déede he knew him not for sutche a one. On a time there­fore, he with drewe him aparte, earnestly intreatings him, to learne him what he was, promisinge that if he would disclose vnto him what he hight, & of what House or Familie, he would assuredly purchase him grace, with M. Antonius, and Octauian: but M. Varro would for no­thing vtter him self, so that in fine Barbulas, farre other­wise then he firste déemed, concluded with him selfe that he was no Romayne. Within fewe daies, nowe Octa­uian, and M. Antonius returned them to Rome, as also Barbulas with his late bought Seruant, who perchance notwithstandinge was better Gentleman then his Mai­ster. It chaunced him there shortly after his arriuall (wayting at the Senate doore, Barbulas his Lorde about his affayres within) to be knowen of a certaine Ro­maine, who incontinently aduertised Barbulas thereof, whiche without any semblant that he knew any thinge, or without any woorde paste thereof vnto him, wrought so with Octauian, whiche then ruled in Rome, that he easily obtained him grace and pardon, by meane where­of foorthwith, he frankly infranchised him, and brought him to Octauian, who courteously receiued him, & from that time foorth helde him in the number of his friendes. After this nowe Octauian, and M. Antonius fell out, in sutche sorte that Barbulas leaned to Antonius, whome Octauian in fielde ouerranne and discomfited. Barbulas then dreadinge the wrothe of Octauian, vsed for his safe­tie, the aboue remembred policie practised by Varro, that is to wéete, he did on him the coate of a poore Souldier. M. Varro, then for that he longe before had not séene him, as also for that he had chaunged his apparel, emong other Captiues unknowen, bought him for a bondeman. But after shorte time, remembringe him againe, he so [Page 45] practised with Octauian, that he obtained him pardon, doinge him to be frée, possest of woonted libertie. So that eche of them, repayinge the dutie of courtesie to other, leaue vs example sufficient of the lesse staide assurance of greate states in this life: with admonition to all, of what degrée they so be, that they neuer leaue to feare the fall, no not then, when they highest shall sitte in Fortunes Chayre, as also on the other side, neuer to dispaire when the same Fortune shall laye them vnder her angry, and disdainefull foote.

¶ Of the distinction of the Age of Man, accordinge to the opi­nion of moste Astrologians. Chap. 17.

BY the common diuision of Astrologians, as well Arabies, Caldees, Greekes, and Latines: as also by the particuler opinion of Proclus, Ptolomie, and Al. Ra­sellus, the life of Man is deuided in seuen Ages, ouer e­uery one of which ruleth and gouerneth one of the seuen Planetes. The firste therefore is called Infancie, which continueth the space of foure yéeres onely, during which time the Moone hath principal masterie on Man, for that the qualities of this Age fitly answeare to the influence of that Planete, for our bodies then are moyste, delicate, tender, féeble, and flexible, rightly agreing with the qua­lities of the Moone. For in this time, for smal cause man easily is altered, with none, or very litle toile, he waxeth streight werie, his body groweth and increaseth, almost sensibly to be perceyued. And this generally nowe chaunceth to all of this Age principally, and chiefly by the influence of the Moone, yet notwithstandinge, not equally, but more to somme, then vnto some others, for as mutche as some other dissidente qualities, by the in­fluence of the Heauens, and aspecte of the Planetes in mans Natiuitie, or time of Birthe, cause some secrete, and priuie alteration in all menne, as they fauourably [Page] or with lesse fauour beholde eche the other.

The seconde Age continueth fully tenne yéeres, and endeth in the fourtenth of our life: whiche Age the La­tines call Pueritia, the ende of Infancie, and beginninge of Adolescencie. In this parte chiefly ruleth an other Planete, Mercurie, whose place of arrest is in the second Spheare. He easily altereth and chaungeth his counte­naunce: for in aspecte with the good, he also is good, as with the naughty he turneth and becometh nought. Du­ringe this Age, nature composeth her selfe to the quali­ties of this Planete: for now yonge children make their firste shewe of their inclination and witte, be it either in readinge, writinge, singinge, or the like: they are also then very tractable and docill, in their deuises notwith­standinge, light, vnstayde, inconstante, and vnstable.

The thirde Age containeth eight yéeres, and of aun­cient writers, is called Adolescencie, and beginneth at the ende of the fourtenth yéere of our Age, and continu­eth vntill the laste daye of the twoo and twentie: during whiche time, ruleth principally the thirde Planete Ve­nus. For then Man beginneth firste to be prone vnto Venerie, apte, and able in the acte of generation, busied in Loue, and pleasinge in the company of Woomen, ge­uen to Playe, Pleasure, Musicke and Bankettes, with sutche other wanton and vnprofitable trifles. And thus liueth he, for the moste parte of Nature bente to this fo­lie: yet notwithstandinge Man hath continually with­out lefte or impeachment, his frée choyse, no necessitie bindinge him to this or that inconuenience, of sufficient puisance to follow, or to withstande these inclinations, for that no force of Planetes, or influence of Starres, bindeth Man against his will to any necessitie, although it incline the apetite sensitiue, as also other partes or members of the body, in sutche sorte that man in cases, hath either likinge or dislikinge, frée notwithstandinge from ineuitable necessitie.

[Page 46] The Fourth Age continueth, till Man haue fully for­tye and twoo yéeres, whiche Age men commonly terme, and call Youthe, it abideth with him twentie yéeres to the ende. Of this Age the Sunne is chiefe Lorde and Go­uernour, and possesseth as his Kingdome, the middle or fourth Spheare, called of auncient Astrologians, the fountaine of all Light, the eye of the Earth, Kinge of the Planetes, and harte of the Worlde. This Age is the moste perfectst, and most excellent of the others, it is the bewtie and flowre of mans life. Duringe this Age, the forces and powres, bothe of the vnderstandinge, and bo­die, acquire, and retaine their vertue, and vigor. Man therefore in this time, well aduised and hardy, becometh skilfull to knowe and choose, that is good for him, he sée­keth and searcheth Honour and Ritches, he laboreth to be accompted greate and renowmed, he busieth him selfe in laudable and vertuous Actions: Briefe, generally in all thinges, he euidently declareth that the Sunne ouer him, hath rule and dominion.

The Fifte Age in Latine, is called Aetas virilis, and hath fiftiene yéeres for his continuance, subiecte vnto Mars, who of him selfe is euill and daungerous, fierce & hoate, inclining men to Auarice, he causeth diseases, and increaseth Coller in more then iuste quantitie. In this Age man liueth temperate in diette, constant and firme in all his déedes, woordes, and couenantes.

Then ioyne twelue to fiftie sixe, and there arriseth sixtie and eight, whiche fully shall terme, and ende this our sixte Age, in Latine called not vnproperly Senectus, of whiche Age is Iupiter the very Lorde and Maister, a Planete very Noble, and significatour of Equitie, Re­ligion, Pietie, Temperance, and Chastitie: prouokinge men to leaue all toyle and trauayle, séekinge a quiet life from sweate and payne. In this Age man followeth and pursueth Holy woorkes, louinge temperancie, vertue, & Charitie, nowe séeketh he Honour by his honest deme­rites, [Page] accompanyed cōtinually with prayse and commen­dation, nowe is he iuste, perfecte and honeste, fearinge shame, obloquie, and dishonour.

The Seuenth and laste, by order of these Ages conti­nueth fully twentie yéeres, ending at the ende of eighty and eighte, whiche very fewe in our Age, either reache or attaine to. This Age, by the meane of Saturne, which ordereth it wholy (the moste slowe, and moste highe of al the other Planettes, whiche also enuironeth, and com­passeth in all the others) is stoopinge, and decrepite. Wée in this Age are colde and drie, of complexion none other or better, then Melancoly, angrye, weamishe, harde to please, and enuious. By this meane wée lyue alone and solitarye: nowe also growe on vs, payne, griefe, sorowe, thoughte, sicknesse, vnreaste, disdeigne, and anguishe. This Age weakeneth our force, and harmeth our me­morye, it lodeth and chargeth vs with perpetual annoy, with longe sorrowes, and languishinge diseases: with déepe thoughtes, chiefly desiringe to attempte close and hidden Secretes: and in fine wée desire principally to be Maisters and Gouernours. And if any emonge vs passe nowe this Laste Age (whiche assuredly happeneth very seldome in these dayes) the same then returneth to the state, in manner of Infancie, and ones againe shall haue the Moone for his Ladye and Mistresse, whiche ordered, as is aboue saide, the whole matter in the foure firste yéeres: by reason whereof, these Aunciente and white headed Fathers shewe them selues none other, then lit­tle Babes or Suclinges, wholy resemblinge their condi­tions and qualities. I haue saide in the beginning, that this diuision of Ages, was leaft vs of the Old, and Lear­ned Astrologians: eche man notwithstandinge maye di­uide them as it pleaseth him. Returne wée therfore now to these partitions also, whiche wée finde geuen vs of re­nowmed Philosophers, Phisitions, and Poetes, whiche were emonge them selues of diuers and differente opi­nions. [Page 47] And for that in this discourse, wée finde many thinges likinge vs, somethinge wil wée touche, to please therewith the Reader. The greate and Learned Philo­sopher Pythagoras, howe longe so euer the Life of man séeme, leafte thereof to vs but foure partes onely, which he compared to the foure partes of the yéere. Infancie (he saide) resembled the Springe, in whiche all thinges beganne to budde and flower, to growe, to waxe greate, and to comme to perfection. The youthfull Age of man, be compared to the Sommer, for the heate, force, and va­liant courage that man hathe in that Age. The Age Vi­rill, or Mans state, he compared to Autumne, for in that time hauinge experience of the worlde, he becommeth ripe, and sounde of aduice & counsel, with assured know­ledge in all kinde of differentes. Olde Age resembleth perfectly Winter, a time sadde and enuious, and sutche as reapeth no kinde of fruite or commoditie, onely en­ioyinge that, that wée receiue at other times. M. Varro, a Romaine, for his Vertue and Learninge, famous in his time: he parted the Life of Man into fiue sundry & equall partes, attributing to eche one, the whole & full space of fiftiene yéeres: in sutche sorte, that he called the firste fif­tiene, Puerilitie: the Seconde, Adolescencie: to wéete, the time of growinge, for that man then springeth vp to his full, and stayde stature. The Thirde Age reacheth to the fiue and fourtie yéere, whiche not vnaptly maie be tear­med Youthe: in Latin, Iuuentus, comming; or descending of the Verbe Iuuo, signifiyng a fitte time to helpe or ayde in: for in this Age man beareth Armes in the fielde: he serueth, and defendeth with force his Countrie, and then only is he most hable in all exploytes of manhoode. From thence vntill the sixtie yéere continueth the Age of per­fecte Man. For that in Latin these men are called, Seni­ores: that is to saie, beginninge to war alde, in respecte of the former Ages, for that in this time men firste be­ginne to decline, lookinge towardes Olde Age, whiche [Page] hasteneth him onwardes, accomplishinge the residue of Mannes Life, these firste thrée scoare yéeres ended. This nowe then is Varro his diuision of Mannes Life, as wel collecteth, and reciteth Censorinus. The Philosopher Hiporas into seauen: geuing seauen yéeres to the First, and as many agayne to the Seconde, whiche both togea­ther mounte to fourtiene. The Thirde from thence rea­cheth to the eighte and twentie yéere. The twoo nexte Ages folowinge haue eche againe seuen, whiche with the others by computation geue fourtie and twoo. The Sixte hathe fourtiene, and endeth with fiftie and sixe: and that remaineth, what so euer it be, he referreth it to the Seuenth Age. Solon also, as the abouesaide Censo­rinus recordeth, diuideth these Seuen into Tenne, iustly sunderinge the Thirde, the Sixte, and the Seuenth in the middle: in sutche sorte, that euery of these tenne par­tes conteine onely seuen yéeres, and no more. These are the Distinctions of Ages then that wée finde emonge Philosophers: sauinge that Isidorus, as also somme of the abouesaide, diuide them onely into Sixe. Of whiche vn­to the Firste he geueth seuen yéeres, & calleth that Age so, yonge and tender Infancie. The Seconde, to this in time, equall Puerilitie: from thence vntill the ende of the eighte and twentie yéere, he accoumpteth on the Thirde Age, and calleth it Adolescencye, a time wherein wée growe beste, and reatche to perfection. The Fourthe is from thence vntill the ende of the fourtie yéere, whiche Age in Latin he calleth Iuuentus. The Fifte, to which he geueth the full space of twentie yéeres, whiche with the others mounte vnto sixtie. He noteth for the declininge Age, or if you rather will, the firste entrie into Olde Age. The remanent of Mannes life, he attributeth to stoopinge Age, whiche howe mutche so euer it be, endeth only the laste parte. Horace, a moste excellent, and most renowmed Poete, diuideth this whole matter but into foure partes, as also did, as wée read, Pythagoras: In Pu­eritiam, [Page 48] Iuuentutem, Aetatem Virilem, & Senectutem: whiche he artificially describeth in Arte Poetica, with all the conditions proper and incidente to these Ages. And yet according to the rules of natural Philosophie, mans life is onely to be parted in thrée partes: The first is that time, that he hath to growe in: The second while he ar­resteth and dwelleth at one staie: The laste when he de­clineth, and beginneth to stoope forewardes. For as saith Aristotle, what so is ingendred, in the beginninge aug­menteth Lib. 3. De Ani­ma. and increaseth, and afterwarde stayeth for a time, arrestinge in his perfection, but in the ende decli­neth and sauereth of diminution. So that hence to con­clude, a tripartite diuision is not of the others all, leaste proper or fittinge. Of this opinion also were the moste parte of the Arabian Phisitions, although Auicenna, a man of rare learninge, and of an excellent iudgement, hath lotted out mans time by foure distincte Ages. The first he calleth Adolescencie, the ful space of thirty yéeres, for that, duringe that time man yet still is growinge. To the seconde be geueth name, of a well stayde Age, or of an Age, wherein bewtie in all menne perfecteth: this parte continueth vntil the fiue and fortie yéere, in which wée liue seased of absolute perfection. Nexte followeth the thirde, a secrete diminution, and priuie pathe vnto olde Age, whiche holdeth on fully the space of fiftiene yéeres. Nowe order giueth vs in his place the laste, a wery, a féeble, and an vnable Age, sutche as men terme a Decrepite, or Caduke Age. Here muste wée notwith­standyng note and consider, that although it pleased him to geue vs this his quadripartite diuision, yet no where forbiddeth he vs to subdeuide agayne the firste parte, which cōtaineth, as wée saide, the space of thirtie yéeres, lottinge the sayde parte into thrée distincte partes, or se­uerall Ages: by this meanes accordinge him with those that before parte (as is remembered) the whole course of [...]ans life, into sixe sundry portions. But here conside­ringe [Page] these variable opinions, I know not where, moste safely to arrest my selfe, neither may any man geue assu­red determination, as wel for diuersitie of complexions, and dispositions of menne, as also that wée inhabite di­uers Landes and Countries, the consideration of our distte mattereth also somewhat, as whether wée féede on meates sauery, of light and easie digestion, or of grosse and lesse pleasant, hardly concocted: by meanes whereof and of the semblable, man either sooner or later altering, becommeth at times differente, olde and decrepite. For this cause saith Galen, hardly may man limite any times Lib. 6. De Re­gimine sanita­us. vnto Ages: whiche well considered, cause that these so dissonante and so sundry opinions, séeme not all thinge so straunge, and so exiled from reason. Seruius Tullius Kinge of the Romaynes, who (as of him recordeth A. Gel­lius) was onely still busied in betteringe the state Pu­blike, as then especially, when he firste distinguished fiue sundrie or seuerall estates emonge the Romaynes: of the life of man remembringe but thrée partes onely, naminge the firste Puerilitie, the space of seuentiene yéeres: the seconde by his accompte reachte vnto the sixe and fortie yéere, in whiche Age he inrolled his Soldiers, as moste able and fitte then to all exploites of Chiualrie: but who so longer liued, those called he wise, mature, & men of aduised Counsell. This diuision, for that it is vninersall, is of no parte contrary or repugnant to the others, includinge the lesse and perticular members, ma­kinge some shewe and certaine semblante of the woon­ted diuisions, whiche of custome ordinarily sunder and seioyne the gréene Age from the riper, and that againe from olde Age. This gréene Age I saye, from the daie of our birth, vntill the laste of our youthe, by some com­putation contayneth fortie fiue yéeres, not mutche more or lesse, as by accompte appeareth. Virgil also vseth the very same Epitheton, Viridis (que) iuuentus, whiche is to saye, gréene youthe: ripe and mature Age thence conti­nueth [Page 49] vntill the sixtie yéere, in which time who so liueth, Seruius calleth them men of assured staie and aduice: the residue of our life, is olde and féeble Age. These thrée partes maie againe be well subdeuided, to accorde, and conforme the forepassed varieties, whiche séeme to be so dissidente, and contrary in appearance.

¶ Of certaine yeeres in mans life, whiche the Learned in times paste iudged aboue the others to be marueilous daungerous, as also for what cause they esteemed it to be so. Chap. 18.

THe auncient Philosophers and Astrologians, by diligent obseruation, haue curiously noted certaine yéeres in mans life to be assuredly perilous, which in Latine they call Annos clymactericos, alludinge vnto the Gréeke woorde Clima, signifiynge as somme will, the staffe of a Ladder, or a degrée in any thinge. Whence they note that these yéeres are in sutche sorte, and man­ner limited, as are steares or steppes, that aunsweare by iuste proportion in any thinge, very daungerous in the whole course and tracte of mans life. For as they main­tained for an approued veritie, the seuenth, the nienth, and the fouretienth daie in all kinde of sicknesse, and in­firmities, to be then the reste continually more daunge­rous: in case semblable also easily perceiued they, that this accompte also by force of the numbers, had in like sorte place in these odde yéeres, throughout the whole course also and time of our life. Pythagoras, Themistius, Boecius, and Auerrois, with others many, learne vs, that the influences of naughtie Planetes, as if I woulde saie of Saturne, whiche at seuerall times ruleth, and in seue­rall Ages, causinge greate chaunges and alterations e­uery seuenth yéere, in sutche sorte, that themselues felte the force thereof: as well remember Marsilius Ficinus, Censorinus, and A Gellius, supposinge it to be a thinge assuredly vnpossible, to passe those yéeres without greate [Page] hazarde or alteration of our life, estate, healthe, or com­plexion. So that by this occasion, the seuenth yéere, the fourtiene, the one and twentie, the eight and twentie, the fiue and thirty, the twoo and fortie, the niene and fortie, and so foorth by order euery seuenth yéere was a­boue the others mutche to be feared. And farther for that they helde the number of thrée to be of greate im­portance or efficacie, they sayde that thrée times seuen, whiche mounte to twentie one, was a number aboue all the reste marueilously to be suspected. As mutche againe is saide of the niene and fortie yéere, for that the number riseth of seuen times seuen: But the moste daungerous yéere of all others, is the thrée and sixtie: for as twenty one riseth of thrée times seuen, so sixtie thrée mounte a­gaine of twentie one thrée times, or of niene times se­uen, or seuen times niene: whiche numbers be famous, and as well knowen, so feared of the wise and learned. So that when they firste entred the firste daie of the saide yéere, they became (beyonde the woonted manner) very diligent, circumspect and curious, to preserue their healthe and life, by all practised polices taught vs, either by experience, nature, or Phisicke, attendinge from daie to daie some daungerous mutation, or sudden chaunge of state, whiche in déede oftentimes hapneth, as well re­membereth Iulius Firmicus in his bookes of Astrologie. To this pourpose A. Gellius maketh mention of a cer­taine letter, sente by the Emperoure Octauian, vnto his Nephew Cassius, letting him to wete, what ioye he then liued in, for that he had escaped the thrée and sixtie yéere, and now was entered into the sixtie foure. In sutch sorte that he then intended to celebrate his second Natiuitie. For these causes thenour Learned Predecessours mar­ueilously feared this aboue rehearsed yéere, consideringe that it was the fatall terme assigned by nature vnto ma­ny: duringe whiche time, Aristotle with others renow­med, and famous personages, died. And as I also aboue Aristotle. [Page 50] remembered the number of niene to be perilous, so saide they, that who so paste the sixtie and thirde yéere, should not at all escape the eightie and one yéere, for that, that yéere riseth of nine times niene. At this Age died the di­uine Plato, the greate and Lcarned Geographer Erasto­thenes, Plato. Erastothenes. Zenocrates. Diogenes. Zenocrates, a Platoniste, and Prince of the aunci­ent Schooles, Diogenes Cinicus, with others many, the onely honour and bewtie of their time. But these things more for experience sake, and for that it séemeth vnto many a noueltie, haue I writen, then that any man should hereon dwell so mutche, that he shoulde thinke it of necessitie, and a thinge ineuitable, although it other­wise be not a matter impertinent, ne yet exiled from the lore of reason. For as wée sée that diseases, & complexiōs, leaue, and ende at times in men: and as in most kinde of Creatures téeth growe, chaunge & fall, the voice altereth into a sounde more base or shrill, the grasse also or Corne springeth at their tearmes appointed, besides infinite o­ther assured effectes & operatiōs of nature, which obserue their course & times without alteration or chaunge: so why shoulde wée not in manner semblable beleue, that these abouesayde termes of time, & clymactericall yéeres should haue their proper force in y^e alteratiō of mans for­tune or state of his bodie. Why also thinke wée not, that mans body is ordered as well by celestiall influence, as by any predominant qualitie or humour, & that by some secrete and hidden operation, though man be yet subiecte to the pleasure and will of God: who as he hath framed all thinges supernaturally and miraculously, yet will he notwithstandinge that his woorkes be naturall, these onely excepted, whiche by him were wrought contrary to the lawes of Nature by secrete meane, inscrutable procéedinges and iudgement.

¶ What daunger it is to murmer againste Princes, as also what commendation they gayne by Clemencie. Chap. 1.

A Woonted sayinge it is, and founde emonge the most auncient Prouerbes, Princes haue handes broade, and longe cares, hence none other thinge at al inferringe, but that Kinges and greate states, can a farre of reuenge themselues on these that offend them, as that they also vnderstande what so of them is spoken in place couerte or secrete. For so many are there that séeke to liue in his grace and fauour, that on the multitude hath rule and dominion, that nothing may be kepte from him either vnknowen or hidden. Whence to all men is ge­uen by the Learned in counsell, that of the Prince wée speake in secrete nothinge, for that in sutche case the Walles bothe heare and disclose againe our Treasons: and Plutarche, that the Birdes carry these woordes in the Ayre. And farther if it be daungerous, to vtter vnto Princes a truthe frankely and boldely, what shall wée iudge of them that mutter againste them priuely? The examples, that a man might to this pourpose alleage, are infinite: emonge whiche, bothe in the Gréeke and La­tine Histories wée reade, that Antigonus one of the Ca­pitaines and successours of Alexander the greate, his Campe not marchinge, but arrestinge in open fielde, be­inge on a night a bedde in his Tente, hearde certaine of his Souldiers without, passe in traiterous talke against [Page 51] him, supposinge not to haue benne vnderstoode of any, but he without any farther semblante of wrothe, in chaunge of voyce, as if he had benne some other, bespake them this softely, without greate brute or noyse: when yée speake any sutche woordes of the Kinge, sée that yée goe farther from his Tente, least he heare you. An other time the saide Antigonus, marchinge with his Armye in the deade of the night, paste through a place very fowle and mirie, his Souldiers almost forweried and tyred, by meanes whereof, they vttered somme distoyall woordes againste him, thinkinge that he had benne farre of and behinde him, but he beinge presente and vnderstandinge their treachery, not knowen from an other by meanes of the darkenesse, after hauinge donne his paine to helpe diuers of them out of the myre, that had so liberally talkte against him, saide with voice as before well coun­terfeited, speake of the Kinge hardly what so euer you please, for that he hath brought you into so watrie a soile, but of me you haue good cause to thinke and saye well, for that by my helpe you are nowe paste the daunger. The patiencie of Phyrrus Kinge of the Epirotes, meri­teth no lesse to be remembered of the posteritie: who when he laye in Italie in Armes againste the Romaynes, bothe he and his whole troupe in the Citie of Taranta, he hearde after supper certaine of his yonge Souldiers sit­tinge at their table, to outrage againste him, whome when he had caused to be brought before him: demaun­ded, whether thei had paste against him in such woordes, or not, to whom, one of them with countenance lesse al­tered, saide: Kinge what so euer thou haste charged vs with, that all haue wée spoken: and farther be thou assu­red, that if the wine had not failed vs, wée had yet againe spoken many worse then are these: lettinge him thereby, for their excuse to vnderstand, that the wine in this sorte had forste them to exile from duety and reason. At which his woordes, Phyrrus waxte not onely angry, but rather [Page] on the contrary side, brake out into a greate laughter, sendinge them backe to their lodgynge without any an­noye or hurte what so euer. The Emperour Tyberius, though otherwise a tyranne moste cruell and execrable, hath lefte vs also to this pourpose somethinges woorthy memorie: for perceiuinge on a time that one had compo­sed an infamous Libel against him, and farther that the people with woordes disloyall, complained eche where of his excessiue crueltie, wherefore perswaded by somme to doe sharpe animaduersion and streight Iustice on them, sayde: that all Tongues ought to be frée in a Citie: then streight againe moued by some of his Councell, to make diligent searche and busie inquirie, to finde out the Au­thour of the fore saide Libell, whiche he also refused as afore, sayinge: that he was not yet so voyde of affayres, that he would trouble him selfe with so simple a matter. Greate also was the Clemencie of Denis tyranne of Si­cilia, vsed towardes an olde wooman of poore and meane condition: for beinge aduertised, that shée dayly prayed for the continuance of his Health and Honour, sente for her to know the cause why shée so mutche affected his as­sured state and maintenance, consideringe all other his Subiectes desired his deathe generally, whereunto shée answeared: knowe right mightie Prince, that when I was a yonge Mayde, there raygned in this Countrie a moste fell and wicked tyranne, wherefore I prayed con­tinually to the Gods for his suddaine death & destruction, by meane whereof in shorte time my requeste was fully accomplished. But after him succéeded then an other, farre yet more cruell, and more blouddy then the firste, for whose deathe, I neuer lefte on the Gods incessantly to call, till it had chaunst to him, as to the other aboue saide. After bothe these nowe comest thou, the woorste of the thrée, a Monster in faithe most malicious and loth­some: and yet because an other might followe moste de­testable of all, I neuer leaue to praye for thy health and, [Page 52] preseruation, wishinge thée many yéeres in healthe, to thy contentmente. This bolde, and hardye answeare naughte gréeued at all this Tyrante, nor therefore dis­deigned he her, that of custome disdeigned al others: but pardoned her to goe without annoye or offence. When Plato, the Father, and Prince of all Philosophers had made his longe aboade with this foresaide Denis, in the ende required his fauour to passe home againe into his Countrie: which obtained, the tyranne him selfe in con­ductinge him of parte out of Sicilia, demaunded what he woulde reporte of him at Athens emonge the Philoso­phers. To whom Plato, without staie freely and boldely answeared: these that liue in Athens, are not so idle nor haue they (know thou) to loose so mutche good time or lea­sure, that they once will inquire, either of thée, or of thy behauiour. Whence although in deede he well percei­ued, that for his naughtie life he that had onely spoken, yet patiently he tooke it, not malicinge the partie. I re­member againe other twoo olde wéemen, whiche with like fréedome bespake their Kinges or Princes, the one a Macedonian to the King Demetrius, Sonne of the aboue remembered Antigonus, the other a Romaine to the Em­perour Adrian, to whom bothe they framed bothe one, & the same answeare: for eche of them crauinge iustice at the Kinges handes, receiued for answeare, that thei pre­sently coulde not attende on them: then sayde they, if you maie not vnderstande of our complainte, geue ouer then your Crownes to them that will do Iustice: which woordes the twoo Princes tooke bothe in better parte, ac­quaintinge themselues with theire cases, and did them forth with right. Phillippe Kinge of Macedonie, taking his leaue of the Embassadours of Athens, and offeringe them sutche courtesie as is vsuall in like cases, demaun­ded in the ende, whether they would that he should doo any thinge yet for them: to whom, one of them that had to name Democrates, knowinge that he in harte hated [Page] the Athenians, lesse able to hide that whiche in harte he thought, saide: wée woulde that thou shouldest goe and hange thy selfe, and besides that, nothinge. At whiche answeare, as well al his companions, as the others then there presente, fearinge the Kinges indignation, were not a litle troubled: but the Kinge, as was his woonted Clemencie (or it maie be dissemblinge) not alteringe to wrothe in any other manner, turned him to the other Embassadours, and saide: you shall saie to the Athenians from me, that he that can supporte these sutche oppro­brious woordes, hathe mutche more modestie then the sagest of Athens, whiche are so litle wise, that they know not when nor where to holde their peace. Domaratus cō ­ming to sée King Phillip, on a time when he was freash­ly fallen out as well with his wife, as with the yonge Prince Alexander, of whom amonge other thinges the Kinge at the first demaunded, if all the Cities in Greece were in peace and well acquieted. But Domaratus that well knewe, nothinge was to him more likinge; then to heare of perpetuall discorde amonge his Subiectes: an­sweared him right boldely, but reuerently withall, as well became a subiecte. Assuredly Kinge, for that you liue disquieted still at home, you aske me what dissenti­ons may be in these your Cities abroade: but if you were in peace with these your people here, it shoulde stande more with your Honour, then thus to inquire of the ad­uersities of others. Whereat the Kinge founde not him selfe at all aggreued, & consideringe that for iuste cause he honestly had reproued him, immediately grewe to a perfecte attonement with the Quéene, as well as with his Sonne and others. In what bolde fréedome and li­bertie of woordes, Diogenes bespake that famous Prince Alexander, as also with what modestie, and howe he ac­cepted it, is euident in the firste parte, where something is saide of the life of Diogenes. Farther if wée affecte ex­amples of Christians, Pope Sixtus the fourth of the order [Page 53] of the orde of sainct Frances, maie serue in this place, as fittyng to our purpose. To whom on a tyme elected, and chosen Pope, came one of his brethren, an olde religious Frier, whiche, after salutations past to and fro, on bothe sides, withdrewe hym self with the Bishoppe, into his secrete rreasurie, where as he shewed his poore brother greate heapes of costlie stones and iuels, and saied: fratermi, now can I not saie, as some tyme saied S. Peter, gold or siluer haue I none. It is true (quam) the other, neither can you saie to the impotent and diseased, as saied he, rise vp, and go, lettyng him there by priuely to vnderstand, that the Popes in these ages, wer now more vowed to riches then vnto vertue, or holines: who perceiuyng, that he nothyng straied from reason, yelded there to, without con­tradiction, quietly. The semblable happened to an Arch­bishoppe of Colonne, who as he paste the countrie, with a houge troope of horse men, curiouslie all armed, accor­ding to the custome, and maner of Almaignie, founde by happe a poore workeman, toilyng hardly for his liuyng, whiche at the first sight of this prelate, brake out, into a great laughter, the cause of whiche demaūded, the poore man for the with saied: I laugh at the follie of that good prieste sainct Peter, prince, and maister of all other pre­lates, whiche liued, and died here in extreme pouertie, to leaue his successours, in suche pompe, and iolitie. But this Archbishoppe againe the better to acquite hym: fel­lowe I ride thus as thou seest, for that I am a Duke, as well as also a bishoppe: where at he laught againe more hartely then before, and beyng demaunded the seconde tyme, of that his vehemente passion, aunswered righte boldlie, with a sure, and staied countenance. I demaunde of thée, right honourable, that if the Duke of which thou speakest, were hence fallen into helle, where supposeste thou this good Archbishop should finde his quiet harbour. Where by he well inferred twoo contrary professions, agréed not well in one persone, and that offendyng in the [Page] one, he could not acquite himself, by any gilful pretext or shadow of thother. At whiche this gentleman, then pre­sently graueled, not hauyng what to saie, departed with shame to muche, and paste forthe on his waie. To speake also of Gentiles, Artaxerxes kyng of Persia, vnderstan­dyng that a certaine capitaine of his, whiche he at his coste, from his cradle, and infancie, had nourished, had muttered against hym in maner, no lesse traiterous, thā in truthe disloiall, whom he would other waie none pu­nishe, but sent to hym by an other, that he might at his pleasure talke of his prince and maister, for that he again of hym might speake, and do the semblable. Philippe fa­ther of Alexander, aduertised that Nicanor had abused hym in woordes, was aduised by certaine his frendes, by proces (as the maner is) to call hym to his triall: to whō he aunswered, that Nicanor was not the worst man in Macedonie, and therefore firste would knowe, whether he had nede of any thing, for that he felt hymfelf bounde in conscience to aide hym: so findyng hym verie poore, in steede of deserued correction, in presence of many gaue him, a great, and riche present incontinently. This doen the same that before had accused him, saied, that Nicanor now spake greate good of his maiestie, to whō the kyng saied: now sée I well Sinicus (for so hight this foresaied accuser) that to bee well or euill spoken of, it lieth onely in myne owne handes. This saied prince, by his frendes an other tyme was aduised, to exile a certaine subiect of his, lesse circumspecte in his talke, and intemperate of tongue, whiche to doe he vtterly refuced, and saied, for as muche as he hath spoken of me his pleasure here, I will not that he doe the semblable, in other straunge lā ­des, and countries, lettyng others vnderstande, that whiche he had dooen of magnanimitie, and clemencie, proceded of sadde aduice, and assured counsaile. In these and suche like matters, this prince excelled all others of his tyme. He saied he was muche bounde to the gouer­nours [Page 52] and princes of Athens, for that it pleased them in­iuriously to talke still as well of hym, as also of the order and maner of his gouernment: for by his daiely industrie and chaunge in thynges, from better to beter, he proued them to be but slaunderous liers. He neuer chastised any that outraged against him, onely he would cut of th'occa­sion, that moued them. Whiche his vsages, if thei were of all menne well obserued, twoo notable commodities should thēce be gathered: the first, th'amendment of our owne liues, and maners, the second, the perpetuall exile and banishemente of all detractours, and slaunderers. A rare vertue is it assuredly, for a man not to accompte of that euil, that he well knoweth to haue been spoken be­hinde hym: but a greate note of temperancie is it, not to waxe or bilius, or angrie, for the iniurie that is dooen vs in our presence, and openly.

Of what countrie Pilate was, and how he died, as also of a riuer so called, and of the propertie of thesame, and finally, of a certain caue, or denne in Dalmacia. Chap. 2.

PIlate of all the iudges that euer wer, or shall be, the moste dete­stable and accurst, was a Frēche manne borne, and of the Citie of Lions, how bee it diuers of the saied countrie deny it, saiyng: that this name Poncius, descen­ded Poncius Fre­neus. out of a certain familie in I­talie, from Poncius Freneus, I meane, capitain of the Samnites, which also did to slight, and vanqnished the Romaines. Whiche howe so euer it was, this Pilate (either for the onely respecte of his per­sonage, either in consideration of the familie, whence he issued) aspired to moste honorable estate emong the Ro­maines, and being familiarly acquainted with Tyberius [Page] successour vnto Octauian, as of hym recorde bothe Iose­phus, and Eusebius, was sente by hym, in the twelueth yere of his Empire, as lieutenaunt generall, to the citie of Hierusalem, whiche titled there hymself, proctour of the Empire. So gouerned Pilate then this holie citie, as also all the Prouince of Iudea, called Palestina. He conti­nued, in this office .x. full yeres, in the seuenth of whiche, whiche was the .xviij. of the Emperours raigne, as ac­compte Beda, and Euseblus, he gaue sentence of death, a­gainst Beda in his booke of time. Eusebius in his first booke of time. the sauiour, and redemer of mankinde, our Lorde and maker Iesus Christe, bothe God and manne, when came to passe these thynges, whiche the holie Euangeli­stes remember vs of, in his death and passion: whose re­surrection was suche, and so manifest in Hierusalem, al­though thei laboured, what in them was to obscure it, that it was well perceiued of Pilate (were he though a wretche, of all others moste impious) that this resurrec­tion, and other miracles wrought by Christ, were not by man doen, but by God onely. For whiche cause, as recor­deth Paulus Orosius, Eusebius, and Tertulian in his Apo­logies, he aduertised the Emperour at length of the mat­ter: for it was the maner that the Consuls, and Procon­suls, should continually write, to the Senate, at leaste, or to the Emperour, of all matters, whatsoeuer, with in the compasse of their Prouince, or territorie. These nouelties then muche troubled Tiberius, whiche with­out staie, communicated them to his Lordes of the Se­nate, aduisyng hym with them, whether it were expe­diente, to honour, and adore, this Prophete for a GOD. Whiche he for this cause onely did, for that without the aucthoritie of the Senate, he could admitte no new God in Rome, besides, or beyonde their supersticious Idoles. But as the diuinitie nedeth not, nor yet can confirme it self, by the sole, and onely approbation of manne, so God here in permitted, that the Senate should then dooe no­thyng. Yea, on the contrary rather (as sondrie good wri­ters [Page 55] haue) thei helde them ill contented, for that Pilate had not to them hereof writen also, as he then did to the Emperour. This notwithstanding Tiberius ordained by Proclamation, that no man should be so hardy, to touche or laie hande, on any professed christian. Now after this Pilate arrested hym in Rome, confirmed by the deuell, as his assured seruaunt, did neuer any thyng iustly, in a­ny his charge or office. Of whiche, accused before Caius Caligula, successour to Tiberius, as also to haue propha­ned the temples, and churches, erecting vnlawfull Ima­ges and Idolles, and farther that he had robbed the com­mon coafers, and threasories, with other greate crimes, and intollerable treacheries, was banished in fine, and sent home againe to Lions. Others saie to Vienna, and that he was there borne, where his intertainment was suche, and so muche pleasing, that he incontinently mur­thered hym self: whiche thyng assuredly chaunced hym, by diuine, & heauenly permission, to the intent he sham­fully might dye, by the handes of hym self, the moste vi­leste and vniuste wretche in the whole worlde. These that hereof haue written, are the aboue remembred au­thours, Beda in his booke De temporibus, and in his Ec­clesiasticall historie, on thactes of the Apostles Eusebius reporteth that he thus slue hymself, the eighth yere after the death of the innocente lambe, Iesus, iudged to death, and deliuered to the bloodie Iewes, by hym. Of whose death, and passion, this accursed deuill, neuer soughte by any meanes his remission, or pardon, but paste hence in dispaire, to Sathan his patron: for the bountie of God is suche, and so greate, that though in deede he had senten­sed his onely soonne to death, yet if he had repented hym of that his synfull crime, the verie same whom he had condemned to the crosse, had not withstandyng yet graū ­ted hym his portion in ioye with Christe. Farther a lake there is, or riuer, whiche also menne call Pilate, within the territories of Sueuia, adioynyng to Lucerna, in a cer­taine [Page] plaine, inuironed on all sides with high, and greate mountaines, from the highest of which (as some affirme for truth) he threwe hymself doune, and was drouned in that water. The cōmon opinion is, that euery yere ones he maketh there shewe of hym selfe, in the habite of a iudge: but who so euer he be, manne, or woman, that by happe then shall see hym, dieth assuredly, or the yere bee fully expired. For proofe whereof, I referre you to Ioa­chimus Vadianus, a man singulerly learned, whose com­mentaries writen on Pomponius Mela are extant: who also of this lake reporteth yet, an other thyng, no lesse knowen for true, then verie straunge and meruailous. He saieth that this water, is of this nature or propertie, that who so casteth into it, either a stone, clotte of yearth a pece of woode, or any other the semblable, this water forthwith so rageth, and rolleth with suche violente, and tēpestious impetuositie, that it passeth his bandes, drou­neth and annoieth the whole countrie aboute it: whence the inhabitauntes are often tymes indomaged, in their corne, fruites, trees, and cattell. And againe that whiche moste straunge is, if these thynges bee not throwen in willingly, and of pretensed purpose, but by happe, or for­tune, as least though one do slide in, it then neither alte­reth, nor rageth in any kinde of maner. Further also saieth this foresaied Ioachiamus, a Swiser borne, that there are lawes, and constitutions, forbiddyng all men, vnder paine of death, to caste, or conueigh any thyng, in­to the saied lake: and that diuers haue been executed, for infringyng this ordinaunce. Whiche whither it bee na­turall, or miraculous, I durst not affirme, although wa­ters haue straunge, & meruailous proprieties. For some of whiche it should not, be harde to yelde good reason, but for others difficill, or rather I iudge, impossible. The semblable vnto this, reciteth Plinie, saiyng that there is in Dalmacia, a verie deepe darke dungion, or denne, into whiche if any throwe, any stone, or weightie matter, [Page 54] there issueth thence immediatly suche a violente, or blu­steryng aire, or rather if I so mighte saie, a whirlyng winde, that it tourneth into a daungerous tempest, gre­uyng, and annoiyng all the inhabitauntes of that coun­trie. It maie bee, whiche I dare not to affirme, that the bodie of Pilate was throwen into that hole, and that the deuill there, by diuine permission, to his euerlastyng shame and ignomine, executeth these straunge, and in­credible effectes.

In what degrees, and at what age a man and wo­man should marrie. Chap. 3.

THe auncient Philosophers mo­rall, were of sondrie opinions, touching thage in whiche man, should marrie hym self to a wo­man, to the intent that the ye­res of the one, might aunswere in proportion vnto the others, Aristotle, groundyng here on, so maie it be, that women both naturally conceiue, and beare children, euen vntil the si [...] ­tieth yere ended of their age, and that man is also able in his kinde, vntill the seuenteth expleate, saied that thei orderly should marrie at suche tyme, as bothe parties might leaue together, vnprofitable, and vnable in thacte of generation, in suche sorte that by the rule, or prescrip­tion of the Philosopher, man should haue aboute twen­tie yeres more then his wife. Hesiodus an Xenophon, graunt hym yet some thing lesse, supposyng it sufficient, that a manne of thirtie yeres, take a wife at fowertene. Licurgus lawe geuer to the Lacedemoniens, conformeth hymfelf to the opinion, and censure of Aristotle: for ge­nerally he forbadde marriage vnto all men, before thei had past the seuen and thirtie yere, but vnto women the [Page] seuententh onely. This Lycurgns his lawe was appro­ued of many, for that in her more perfecte, and more ripe age, she more easily acquainteth her self, with y^e maners and behauiour of hym, that is giuen her for housebande. For as writeth Aristotle in his Economiques, the dispa­ritie of maners, and difference in conditions, let perfecte loue betwixte the parties coupled: & yet neither approue I this ordinaunce of Aristotle, whiche willeth that man should haue twentie yeres more then woman (without offence, or preiudice be it ment, vnto so worthie a perso­nage) my reason is this, that man beyng fullie sixtie ye­res olde, although he yet then can doe some thyng, in the acte of generation, moste commonly if he liue longer, in the residue of his life, he is charged with infinite, and dai­ly increase of maladies, so that before his wife aspire to the age of fortie, he to her shall bee a greate charge, and wearie paine, in place of a frende, a patrone, and a hous­bande. Wherefore when there is lesse difference in their ages, thei are in like maner mortified as it were at one tyme, their mindes and intentes are also more confor­mable, then when there is so greate inequalitie of yeres Neither doe I here saie that man, should not at all be el­der, but rather that the space of eight, or ten yeres might suffice, so that the man at the age of twentie fiue, might chuse to hym a wife, at sixtene, or seuentene yeres, ha­uyng some respecte to the course, or order of mannes life. Also let man take to wife, a woman yonge, a maide, of perfecte, and good complexion, not olde, no widowe, fra­med to the maners, and humour of an other: for assured­ly in their tender youth, thei are flexible, and bendyng, to what so man would haue them▪ obedient, and subiect still to his will, and pleasure. To whiche purpose we maie remember here, thexample of Timotheus, on the Flut, of all others, moste excellente and cunnyng, whiche for honeste stipende, imperted of his skill, to suche as would learne of hym. This Timotheus, before he would begin [Page 57] with any (whatsoeuer) his scholer, he vsually demaūded if that he could plaie any thing, for of those, y^t had some ma­ner of beginnyng, he euermore receiued double wage or salerie: his reason was, for that his pain was also dou­ble, first to make them forget, and forgoe, their first cor­rupt, and disordered vse in plaie, and then a freshe to in­structe them, accordyng to his skilfull loare. Whiche ob­seruation of his, well serueth vs for widowes, which are all readie trained to the peruerse appetite some tyme, and fonde phantasie of others, and therefore harde to bée drawen backe, from the wonted, and straunge deuises, of their firste friende, or housebande. For whiche cause I preferre, the mariage of a maide, before that of a widow besides the singuler affection, and assured remembrance, whiche commonly lieth rooted in the hartes of women, towardes these, with whō thei first of all were acquain­ted. Concernyng the parentaige, or riches of the wife, a certaine yonge man, a Greke borne, came on a tyme to Pitacus, one of the seuen sages of Grece, requestyng his aduise, in his affaires of marriage. One offered me saith he, my choise of twoo yonge maides, the one throughout myne equall, in substance, and in birthe, the other farre surpasseth me in worshippe, and in gooddes, what shall I doe here in, whiche shall I chuse to wife? To whom Pi­tacus aunswered, seest thou yonder children, that practise them selues at wastreles, go offer thy self to plaie emō ­gest them, and thei shall giue thee good counsaile, whiche he did, and as he approched, and offered hymself for one, thei perceiuyng that bothe in force, and in stature of bo­die, he paste them, refused his companie, saiyng: that e­uery man should betake hym to his fellowe, and equall. Whence he well, knewe for wife, whō he should take in marriage. Plutarche in his treatise, of thinstructiō, or brin gyng vp of children, willeth that manne marrie not his sōne, to a wife either more riche, or of better familie then he, saiyng, that who so alieth hymself, to his superiours, [Page] and betters, in place of friēdes and alies, he findeth none but maisters. And farther if a riche woman, shall chuse a housebande poore, pride immediatly possesseth her, and mistres muste she be, and sowryng a lought continuallie with proude checkes will she serue hym. And farther, Menander saieth, that who so beyng poore, and taketh to wife a woman riche, maketh a plaine gifte of hymself to the woman, whiche he espouseth, and not she vnto hym. Licurgus emong the Lacedemonians ordained a Lawe, that no man with his doughter, should giue any kinde of dowrie, to th'intent thei trauailed, t'indowe themselues with vertue, for that cause and none other, to be desired in marriage. Although this lawe might seme now rigo­rous to some, yet assuredly was it bothe honourable, and necessarie, for beyng ones well obserued in one, it likely also was, thai it should bee in an other: as for example, if the father in marriage of his wife, was of no parte in­richte, neither in gooddes, nor in money, he then the lesse to his doughter, was bounde to impart with any thyng. Whence it lieth euident, that who so at any tyme, ente­reth into the sacred lawes of wedlocke, should haue if he well dooe, no consideration at all of riches. But what? muche tyme should I lose, if I attempted to perswade here, for that all men are soiled in this lothsome abuse, wiueuyng for none other cause, but for pelfe onely. Yet saie I, notwithstandyng, that when a riche man mar­rieth, he should not consider of the wealthe, or substance of the wife, but of her assured vertue, and modestie, bo­rowing fit example of Alexander the great (who though he were so famous, that all the worlde spake of hym) tooke yet to wife Bersina, the doughter of Arbasus, not riche, or glitteryng, but vertuous onely, and descended of noble parentage: and yet in these daies, who so moste hath, moste busily hunteth, and hungereth this drosse. Hence cometh this often mislikyng in marriage, for ha­uyng withdrawē the money, that couereth, for the most [Page 58] part, all kinde of vices, thei incontinently lye open, more then manifeste vnto all men, whiche first we would not see blinded, with detestable auarice, or at least seyng thē would dissemble it, as guilefull doublers. Neither here mislike I, that man in race like, or in like familie, seke to hym the best, or moste fittyng to his apetite: as on the o­ther side, I thinke it bothe ignominious, and dishonora­ble, to matche in baser state, for the onely loue, and de­sire of money. It nedeth not that I herein long dwell, for the yearth it self in this case, scholeth vs sufficiently: be­stowe who so please, seede fine and delicate, in a roughe soile, lesse pleasaunte, and vnlaboured, and he shall reape there of fruite, little daintie, and vnsauerie, yea, though it spring of a séede, as is afore saied, verie delicate: and on the other side, who so bestoweth his seede lesse sauerie, in a soile fatte, and fertile, that whiche he thence repeth shall be swete, and delicate. Besides, if we doe our care­full paine, for the better prouition, of a good breede, or race of horses, how muche the more should we then bee circumspecte, concernyng our children, our successours, and posteritie? In my phantasie, that man maketh small accompte of hymself, and euill satisfieth that obligation, where vnto he is borne, if he leaue not his child, of as ho­nourable a linage, as hymselfe receiued, by dissente from his father, whiche is impossible, if he take wife, of wourse estate, or meaner condition, then hymself. Far­ther, if he accompte of honour, or haue it in reputation, he thence heapeth to his children more ample possessiōs, and greater dignitie, then hymself at the firste, receiued from his father. How greate is mannes debte then, and what should his care be, to leaue his children of no imba­sed race, but rather to better it, if it be possible, to the in­tent his posteritie, finde no cause to complaine them of. Paulus Emilius recordeth, that Manestias an Athenian, soonne of Iphicrates, a moste renoumed, and famous ca­pitaine, whose mother was of base, and vile condition, [Page] whiche notwithstandyng Iphicrates had espoused, was demaunded, whom he beste loued his father, or his mo­ther, who aunswered, his mother, where at thei mer­uailyng, demaunded againe why: for that my father, said he, with small regarde begatte me, of parte a Thracian, and soonne of á poore mother: but she on the other side, hath borne me, of part an Athenian, the sonne, and heire of an excellent capitaine. Concerning the beautie of wo­men, leauyng to speake of those, that counsaile vs to re­fuse, bothe the faire, & the foule, prefarryng onely those, whom mediocritie commendeth: my aduise is, that man chuse euermore the beste, that he possible maie finde, the fairest I meane, and of cleareste complexion, so that she bee vertuous, as we before haue saied: otherwise, wishe I, that he chuse the hardeste fauoured, chaste with all, and honeste, rather then the faireste, of leude, and lighte demainure. My reason is, that wee should alwaies pre­ferre the faireste, if for none other, yet for generation, and cause of the posteritie onely, to the intente our chil­dren, bee suche as we would wishe, of moste perfecte, I meane, and amiable complexion. Virgil remembreth, that the goddes Iuno, desirous to gratifie her beloued Eodus, promised to giue hym one of her faireste Nimphes, to the ende she should beare hym, children in beautie, re­semblyng her self. We reade againe, that Archiadamus kyng of the Athenians, was condemned in a pecuniall paine, for that he had married a wife of small stature, his counsaille hardly chargyng hym, that he mente to leaue the race roiall, of little, thinne, wretched, and impotente bodies, as if thei were but halfe men. To conclude, ther­fore, what so is, in any place aboue remembred, mine ad­uise is, that it bee taken, as counsaile, and no commaun­demēt, which you maie execute at your pleasures, with­out daunger, or difficultie, as also without all exception of persones. For Matrimonie contracted, with the har­der fauoured, is as holie as that other, with the moste [Page 59] faireste, as good with the poorest, as also with the riche, with the widdowe also, as with the maide, or virgin, for that euery of them is lawfull, verteous, and honeste, groundyng on loue, whiche in greateste differentes, and cases of inequalitie, woorketh euer more a perfecte con­formitie, and vnion.

Of the cordiall and hartie loue, that should be in maer­riage, with diuers examples seruyng to that purpose. Chap. 4.

THE mutuall loue, and affection, be­twixt man and his wife, bothe is, and ought to bee, for iuste cause commen­ded, for that marriage of it self, is a thyng so excellent, as well for respect of hym, whiche firste did institute it, God, with the place also, of that in­stitution, Paradis, as also that thence procedeth, th'onely propagation, and continuance of mankinde, with reme­die sufficient against all sensuall appetites, and concupis­cencie of the fleshe. All other amities incident in mannes life, with whom, or in what sorte, so euer thei happen, are loues improper, and affections lesse perfect▪ in respect of this so holy▪ and diuine. This is that same, that ioineth bothe bodie and soule together, this is that, that is con­firmed, and sealed vnto vs, by a sacred miracle, neither is there any thing betwixt the married, in particularitie proper, for that betwixt the honest couple, the body, and will is one, that whiche neuer happeneth in any other kinde of amitie, whiche for small cause oftentymes is dissolued and broken: and that also whiche worste is, the moste assuredste of these affections, continueth but for a tyme, for gaine, or aduauntage: for proofe whereof, wee rarely haue heard of any, that without chaūge, haue still helde on, and neuer broken vntill death. For so daintie, and obnoxious, to all chaunges is mannes minde, that commonly we see newe friendes, to remoue, and dispos­sesse, [Page] for little cause, the olde: but that loue holdeth still, whiche is betwixte man, and his wife, neither maie it be sundred by any aduerse fortune, by infirmitie, pouer­tie, mishappe, or chaunge of beautie, onely death hath power, to cutte this knotte in sunder. Some tymes it also liueth, and continueth after death, as we haue seen in certaine widdowes, of whiche wee could remember infinite examples, emongest whom aboue all others, we maie consider of the mutuall loue, or affection, betwixte our first parentes Eue, and Adam, vnto whom the fruite of life, vnder paine of death was prohibited. Adam not­withstādyng, to gratifie his wife, refused not to hassarde hymself by breache of that commaundemente. When Paulina the wife of the sage and learned Seneca of Cor­doua, vnderstode that cruell Nero had doen to death her husband, who by openyng all his vaines in a bathe, gaue vp his spirite, would not onely dye, to accompanie hym by death, but also did chuse to ende her smart, by the said maner of tormente, for more better accomplishemente whereof, the did her self to bee prickte, as did before her, Seneca. Whereof Nero, with spede aduertised, and kno­wyng that it proceded of assured loue onely, caused her with greate diligence, to bee saued from the daunger of death: for beyng euen then on the poincte of passage, he caused her vaines skilfully to be bounde, carefully atten­dyng on her, that she to her self, did none other kinde of violence: by meanes whereof, this chaste and verteous matrone, paste the reste of her life in greate paine, and miserie, paie, & coulerlesse, in signe of loiall loue, that she beare to her husbande. In the life of the Emperours, we also reade, that Lucius Vitellius, brother to the Emperor Vitellius, beyng on a nighte, in a perillous battaile, his wife, whiche hight Triata, by the greate, and inspeakable force of loue onely, came thrustyng in emong the souldi­ars, to aide, and assiste Vitellius, mindyng in that straite, to liue, or dye with hym, where she then so did her pain­full [Page 60] indeuour, that she vtterly forgatte all feminine de­bilitie, with small accompte of her life, or safetie, with­out her husbande. Q. Curtius reciteth, that the kyng of Aira, vanquished by Alexander, spoiled, and depriued of a greate parte of his realme, paciently bare it, with a vali­aunt, and manly courage, without any shewe of pain, or anguishe, but when newes was broughte hym, that his wife was dedde, in token that he more loued her, then he did his kyngdome, brake out into teares, and wepte ve­rie bitterly. Ouide, Iuuenal, and Marcial with others, af­firme that the wife of kyng Ad [...]etus, chose willyngly to dye, to saue her sicke and diseased husbande, for hauing receiued aunswere from thoracle, that the kyng should liue, if any of his dearest frendes, would vouchsafe to dye for hym. Notwithstandyng, for the little credite, that menne commonly giue to Poetes, I had hereof saied no thyng, had not saincte Hierome hymself recoumpted it. Plinie the younger, in a letter of his writeth, that a cer­taine Fisher, beyng sicke of an incurable disease, or ma­ladie, by meanes whereof, he daiely indured suche tor­mentes, and paines, as was almoste impossible, for man to sustaine, where at his wife moued with meruailous compassion, as she, that intierly, and hartely loued hym, seyng no hope of healthe, or recouerie, nor any where could finde any kinde of remedie, hauyng sought it euery where, to the vttermoste of her power, perswaded with her husbande, by death to make an ende of these gripyng paines saiyng: sithe that to death at some other tyme, of necessitie you [...]ste yelde, preuente her commyng, to ende there by, this insupportable anguishe. To whiche her aduise, this poore wretche accorded: wherefore, pas­syng forthe bothe to the toppe of an high rocke, this wo­man there bounde her self verie faste to her housebande, whence castyng them selues doune, where dismembered together. Baptista Fulgosius the like historie remēbreth, of a poore labourer, or housebande man of Naples, which [Page] walkyng with his wife, vpon the sandes, or sea coast, but she, for some her affaires, for slowyng her pace, was im­mediatly apprehēded, by a small skiffe of Moores, whiche thyng her housebande, when he ones had perceiued, be­ganne to screche, and torment hymself lamentablie, and in fine tooke the water, swimmyng after the bote, with moste dolefull teares, criyng still on the Marriners, to take hym also, sithe thei had his wife awaie with them, for prisoner, so was he in th'ende, to them also receiued, not without lesse meruaile of the Moores, then teares of his wife. Shortly after this, within few daies landed, thei bothe were presēted vnto the kyng of Thunnis, who vnderstandyng of all thynges, as thei truely had happe­ned, was moued to compassion, and graunted them per­don. To witnes of the good minde, that Artemisia bare to Mausolus, we onely must not consider, of that famous Sepulchre, whiche she to hym builte, and called Mauso­leum, whiche also this daie, for the sumpteous, and curi­ous woorke thereof, is accompted, not the leaste of the seuen wounders of the worlde, but also of others, her ho­neste desertes towardes hym. The singuler affection al­so, of Tiberius Gracchus, towardes his wife, is then the others, no lesse straunge, or meruailous, whose historie, though it be common, redde in Valerius Maximus, yet in fewe to touche it, shall not bee superfluous: he there­fore, on a tyme findyng, twoo Serpentes in his bedde chamber, straungely amased at so l [...]thesome a sight, de­maunded of the augurers, or sothsaiers, what it mighte portende, to whom was aunswered, that of necessitie he muste kill one, but if the male, then hymself should firste dye moste assuredly before his wife, but if the female, then contrary wise, his wife before hym: he then that better loued his wife, then himself, made perfect demon­stration, of his loiall affection, for he rather did chuse to dye first hymself, then to see his wife to dye before hym, and so in killyng the male serpent, made chaunge of life [Page 61] forthwith, as is aboue remembred, leauyng his wife af­ter hym a widdowe, for some other. But here a manne maie for iuste cause doubt, whether she were more hap­pie, that had suche a housebande, or more vnhappie in deede, that so infortunately loste hym. Harde were it to saie, whiche of these twoo followyng, should be argumēt of greatest loue: to wete, whether that woman, whiche willyngly, would haue dooen her self moste painfully to dye, onely for the griefe, conceiued of her housebandes death: on the other side or she, that continually so mour­ned, that by languishyng paine, and teares, with sorowe to death consumed. Concernyng the first, for that parte, alreadie some thyng aboue is saied: as touchyng the se­conde, a notable example finde wée, of a famous gentle­woman, of Iulia to wete, the doughter of Iulius Caesar, wife also to that valiant, and renoumed capitaine Pom­pie, to whom one presentyng a certaine robe of her hous­bandes, all stained, & soiled, with the blood of one freashe­ly wounded, supposyng incontinentely her housebande, traiterously to haue been murthered, before she could haue tyme, there of more to vnderstande, she sodainly so altered, with sorrowe, and displeasure, that she became straight senselesse, depriued of her feelyng, deliuered also (wherewith she then wente quicke) of an abortiue, and so foorthwith made chaunge, of this vncertaine life. By whose death, that generall peace. whiche by her meanes onely, was then cōtinued, almost throughout the whole worlde, was chaunged into warre, and bloodie hostilitie, principally, and first, bet wixte Caesar, and Pompie. The chaste loialtie of Lucretia, was suche towardes her hous­bande, so well knowen, and so notorious, that super [...]lu­ous were it to speake of it, for vnkindely abused by force of an vnchaste lecherer, s [...]ue her self in the presence of di­uers worthie personages. The meruailous loue also, of the wife of Fernandus Goncales, an Earle or Counte, is no lesse in my iudgemente commendable, then was also [Page] her policie, by whiche she deceiued the king, and well de­liuered the countrie: for she in stature, not muche vnlike to her housebande, did on her his apparell, arrestyng still in prison, and he attired as woman, paste for the by her aduice, fledde thence, and escaped the angrie wrathe of the prince. Here might I longer dwell, with infinite ex­amples, whiche I leaue to remember, not mindyng to bée tedious, whiche although the lawes of God forbidde, that we doe no murther, are notwithstandyng, worthie of perpetuall memorie, especially beyng executed, of Panimes, and Gentiles, whiche had no kinde of féelyng in Godslawes, and ordinaunces.

Of the straunge customes obserued by our elders in mariage. Chap. 5.

MAriage is contracted by the sole and onelie consent of man, and woman: but to the ende this consente may the better bée authorised, it is farther re­quisite, that it bée manifested by cer­taine exteriour signes, and words, for that GOD onlye knoweth, and sear­cheth mans harte. Whence it cometh, that men, in this case, haue instituted sundrie ceremonious, and solemne ordenances. Concernyng these, this day in vre among the Christians, thei are euident, and knowen sufficient­lye vnto all men: Wherfore I will payne my selfe pre­sentlie to speake, of certaine auncient customes, practi­sed as well in sundrie barbarous countries, as also amōg the olde Romaines theim selues, especiallie in their Esponsalles and Mariages, of whiche (so maie it be) the diuersitie maye lende some contentment to the reader. The aūcient Romaines as writeth Cicero maried them selues in two sortes, lottyng vnto theym twoo diuers kindes of wiues, accordyng to the diuersitie of their ma­trimoniall [Page 62] ceremonies. The one was more common, and called her selfe matrone, the other more proper, and was named mother of the familie. As touchyng the lat­ter sorte, it maye easelie be thought that they so maried theym selues, as dooe in manner all Christians in oure daies. For the husbande would demaunde of his wife, whether she would be mother, and ruler of his familie, and she aunsweryng yea, would in case semblable also aske hym whether hee mente to be father of her familie againe, to whom if he gaue affirmatiue aunswere, then should they take eche other by the hande immediatly, in token of assured faith, and amitie, and this contract was reputed for most perfect and excellent. By whiche mea­nes the wife so gained such place in the husbandes house, as otherwise she should haue hadde, hadde she been hys owne sister, for that she nowe came as by adoption, to be of the saide line, and as true doughter to her father in lawe, came to the inheritaunce at that instante with her husbande. This gathereth Boecius at large, writyng on the seconde of the Topiques of Cicero. The other ce­remonie was muche more common, and therfore they were not reputed for mothers of the familie, thoughe they otherwise weere honoured by the name of matro­nes. Farther the Romaines hadde againe this custome, that when they firste brought the yonge wife to her hus­bandes house, she arrested her with out at the doore or gates, as one that might not enter before shee weere drawen in, there at by force, geuyng the world thereby to vnderstande, that thei by constraint, and not willyng­lie came thether, where they shoulde loose their maiden­hoode, or virginitie, and afterwarde when they woulde geue the maid, to her husbande she sate her downe (suche was the vsage) in her mothers lappe, whence the hus­bande againe drewe her, the seconde tyme by force, the maide imbrasing her mother, as harde as she might pos­siblie: whiche they chifely did in memorie of that, that [Page] some tymes the Romaines hadde in manner sembleable taken, the Sabine maides out of the armes of their mo­thers, by meanes where of Rome came in short tyme to be well peopled. Yet againe after these, before he might bedde her, the maide presented at one tyme bothe fire and water vnto hym, whiche they did to signifie as hath Plutarche and Lactantius, by these twoo elementes the secrete of generation, for that thei be the principall cau­ses generatiue, in all kinde of thinges naturall. Others affirme for this cause, that the maide thereby shoulde promise sinceritie in harte, and loyaltie in behauiour, for the water naturally purgeth all ordure and immundici­tie, and fire fineth and trieth all maner of metalles, sun­deryng and partyng the purer from the grosse. Farther they supposed all mariages infortunate contracted in the moneth of Maie, and that for certaine fonde vani­ties, and superstitious imaginations, without grounde or reason, and therfore remenbred of no man. Of these thinges we reade more largelie in Ouide and Plutarche. Ouid. in fastis. Plaut. in pro­blematis. An other custome was this, that when the wife first en­tered into her husbandes house, the husbande should vt­ter with a hawte voice these two wordes, Caia Cecilia, and shée in maner semblable muste aunswere hym, Caio Cecilio, whiche they vsed, for that in the tyme of Tarquinius Priscus Kyng of the Romaines, there was a damsell in Rome chaste, discréete, sober, gentle and wise, adorned besides with all other vertues, rare in the feminine kinde, which had to name Caia Cecilia, but be­fore she came to Rome called her felfe Tanaquila: for Caia Cecilia. Tanaquila. which cause the yong man pronounced these wordes, to minde his wife to immitate the other. There was also carried vsuallie before the maide, the firste daie that she came to dwell in her husbandes house, a Distaffe char­ged with Flaxe, and a Spindle hangyng at it, to the in­tente she might be mindfull to leue by her labour. Here­of writeth Plinie, to whom I referre hym that more Plinie lib. 8. Cap. 40. [Page 63] herein desireth. Besides all these an other thynge was yet practised by the Romaines, whiche was, when anie espoused, or tooke to wife a Widowe, the mariage was solemnized euermore in a holie day, but if a maide, then contrariwise continuallie on a woorke daie. And this Macrobius and Plutarche recorde at large, and againe saithe Plutarche all suche solemnizations finished on fe­stiuall daies, were of purpose onlie don in suche tymes, to the intent that all the people then occupied in plaies, and pleasures, might not vnderstande of these seconde mariages of Widowes: but maides contrariwise were maried ordinarilie on labourynge daies, to suche effecte that the whole worlde might witnes of suche matches. Macrobius also saieth, that therefore vnto maides on these daies suche solemnities weere prohibited for that, as is aboue saide, they vsed a certaine ceremonie to take the bride by force out from the mothers lappe, which to do on the saboth, or holie daie, was a thing vnlawfull. I leaue heere to speake of other ceremoniall solemnities, ordinarily practised among the olde auncient Romaines, some thynge to speake nowe in this place of the Babilo­nians, whiche in this sorte folowyng, gaue in mariage their doughters. In one appointed daie continuallie in the yere, they ordered in publike place all the yong mai­dens marigeable in eache Citie, where the fairest and moste beautifull, were not married with anie monie, that their fathers, or other frendes, should at that time bestow on theim, but vnto suche, as woulde most large­lie and moste frankelie disburse for them, whiche ordre they healde in theim that were nexte faire, without re­specte of degree, or linage orderlie descending from degre vnto degrée, vntill they also came to the lesse faire or harde fauoured, which they also bestowed on those, that were contented to take leaste summes of monie with them, whiche euermore was taken of that, which was geuen for the fairest, so that in fine the latter sorte, was [Page] as well maried as the first, without anie kinde of charge or coste to their parētes, these onely enricht, or domaged that pleased to take them. Marcus Antonius Sabellicus writeth, that the Venetians in olde tyme vsed also thys order: here muste you notwithstandyng, in this place consider, that all those that were of indifferent beautie, neither to be estemed faire, or ill feutered, were neither bought, nor solde, but at euen hande deliuered. Longe sith in Fraunce, to the intent their doughters should ne­uer iustlie complaine theim, that they against their will or likyng were maried, they accustomed, when the fa­ther ment to marie his doughter, to make a solemne or daintie bankette, vnto whiche the father woulde inuite a greate many of yonge menne of semblable parentage, and degree vnto hymself, of whiche all placed there at ta­ble together, the father graunteth frée libertie of choise to his doughter, who to make shewe of hym, that in that companie beste pleased her, presented vnto hym in presence of thothers, a basin of water to washe after his diner. In a certaine toune of Africa called Leptina, the Leptina. maner was, that the first day that the bride should come to her husebandes house, before she came, she shoulde sende vnto her mother in law, desiryng her to lende her, as hauyng néede therof, an earthen potte, whiche should refuce, with sharpe words, to doo her that little courtisie, to the intente onlie that from the firste daie, she might beginne to acquainte her selfe with the importunities of her mother, and by this hard, and vnkind refusall, learne to supporte what so after might followe. Amonge the Mesl [...]gites, they ordeined that eache man shoulde haue Messagites. his wife, and yet euerie woman besides, was common to theim all, and all their wiues againe in maner sem­bleable were not denied to anie man. Eusebius writeth, that the auncient Brytons, liued in like sorte scarse diffe­rent in anie thing. The Arabians, those onlie I meane Britous. Arabians. of Arabia foelix, hadde a law, or rather an vsage, that the [Page 64] woman that maried her self, should forthwith be as frée, to all her husebandes kinsemen, as to her huseband, whō she onely hadde espoused: and as Strabo recoumpteth, when anie of theim wente to vse, or haue her companie, he should hange vppe at the doore or gate a certaine ring, to the intent that if any other in the meane tyme should come, he by the saide Ring should knowe, that the place was possessed, and therfore was vnlawfull at that time to enter: and farther againe thei hadde this respect also, that who so hardened hymself to séeke thacquaintaunce of anie woman, were he not of the saide race or alied vn­to the others, he shoulde furthwith be dooen to die for it, without longer lette or staie. But it chaunced on a time, a woman verie faire, and of perfecte complexion, was a­boue the reste verie buselie sought on, onlie by the alies, I meane of her husebande, by meane whereof, and of suche busie importunitie, she fastneth a Ring at her gate her selfe to the intente that who so among theim at anie tyme came thether, should suppose that there was some other with in with her, whiche her honest gyle stoode her in good stede certain daies, the ryng still hangyng at the gate without, till on a tyme all the kinsemen of the hus­bande méetyng together, one among the reste determi­ned to visite her, who findyng the signe vppe, as though there had been some mau there, and rememebryng that he had left them all before together, immagined that she had gotten some newe and straunge adulterer, wherfore he goeth, and immediatlie therof aduertised the others, whiche all together with the husebande approachyng, founde her contrarie to their expectation voyde of com­panie and alone, whiche in their presence confessed the cause why she had doen it. Whiche her intention consi­dered of, and founde grounded on vertue, eschuyng the lesse chast acquaintance of so greate a number of riuals, and further desirous to liue a more cōtinent life, though contrary to the brutal vsage, and maner of the countrie, [Page] hauyng by their assent here in some reason, was rather well thought of, then of anie parte discommended.

¶ Of the excellencie of paintyng. Chapt. 6.

THere hath been, bothe emong the Ro­maines, and Grekes, moste excellent men, in the skill of Paintyng. And al­though also in our age, there haue béen deuers, singulerly well practised, and learned in this arte: yet suppose I thē farre to bee inferiours, to these of the olde tyme, and fore passed ages, consideryng what wee reade of their fined labours. As for example, of the twoo tables finished by Aristides, a painter of his tyme renou­med, and famous, whiche as recordeth Plinie, were boughte by Iulius Caesar, for no lesse price then fower score talentes, onelie to dedicate theim to the goddesse Venus. And assuredlie though Caesar were a verie riche prince, yet was this price excessiue, and greate, conside­ryng that the talent, as well by the accompte of Budeus, as also of some others, curious in this matter, counter­poyseth sixe hundred Frenche crounes, now currant: so that Caesar, by this valuation, paide for these two tables 48000. Crounes of good and lawfull monie. It also is written by the saide Plinie, that Attalus king of the lesse Asia, disbursed fullie an hundred talentes, whiche va­lue, by the first accompte. 60000. Crounes, for one onely table painted by the aboue saide Aristides. We maie in this place then safelie presume, that accordyng to the in­crease, or decrease, of Prices, the excellencie of these sciences grewe also, or deminished. Brife in those daies paintyng was so muche honoured, that it was reputed in number of the liberall sciences. Plinie [...]aieth that the Gréekes in suche sorte accompted of it, that it was not lawfull for anie their seruauntes to learne it: onely the Noble menne onely admit­ted to painting soonnes of greate estates, and honourable personages [Page 65] were permitted to exercise theimselues, in this practise. So grewe this skill then to be famous, and worthie, and not altogether assuredlie without cause, for that who so therein affecteth to be excellente, of necessitie muste bee learned in manie other matters. Geometrie to hym is requisite to vnderstande his perspectiues: also he shoulde bee learned in the other artes and scieuces, with an ab­solute knowledge in infinite other thinges, the more perfectlie to order and obserue his proportions, with an assured consideration of the nature of al thinges, as shal bee to the beautie of his woorke, decent and necessarie, throughout to bee skilled as a Poete in all thinges, for that paintyng is nothing els, but a deade or dumme poe­ste. Besides this, his lineamentes, and proportions must be suche, that the eye it selfe misse and faile therein, in iudgemente, as wee reade it some tymes happened to Zeuxis and Parrasus, both excellent painters, concerning the outwarde shewe, or appearaunce of their woorke. By Zeuxis and Parrasus. meane whereof they accorded willingly together, that euery of theym should frame the finest peece he could, to thentent that who so wonde then the price, by common iudgement, should be reputed of the other, for most per­fect and absolute. Zeuxis then presenteth a perfect péece, a table, in whiche he had with suche skill, and so artifici­ally depainted certaine bounches, or clusters of Grapes to the quicke, that certaine Sparrowes espiyng it, and supposing they had been grapes, arrested theim to beake thereon, or preie, as is their vsage, which thing appeared merueilous and straunge in all mens iudgmente. Parra­sus on the other side presented eake a table, on whiche, with suche perfection he wrought had then a Curtaine, that beyng brought to Zeuxis, to iudge or to consider of, (nowe drouned almost in pride, for that he had the poore and senlis birdes deceiued) demed it to bee, that which in déede it was not, stretchyng forth his hand to haue with­drawen the Curtaine, as though some thynge had been [Page] close hid, or wrought there vnder, saide with loude voice that some man should take awaie the Curtaine. But af­terward perueiuyng that foulie he had failed, gaue sen­tence without more that Parrasus was his better, consi­deryng he had deceiued hym that was maister of his sci­ence, which was in déede much more, then by some gyle­full shewe, to drawe or to delude the poore and foolishe birdde. An other tyme this Zeuxis, in like table also de­painted a yong boye or child, hauyng in his handes a dish well charged with Grapes, with so much art in deede, so well and finely fashioned, that the birddes againe as be­fore, came fléeyng to beake thereon, whereat Zeuxis as all foreraged, greuing and misliking with that his owne worke saide, if that with equal skill I had depainted also the boye, the birddes with feare would then haue helde thē all a loofe, neither would thei haue been so bold to ap­proche so nigh the boy. Plinie which recordeth these thinges affirmeth, that Zeuxis was a man of greate wealth in his tyme, for what soeuer he wrought, he neuer solde it, but for price excessiue, reputyng his deuises to bee of suche excellencie, that if he solde theym not at his owne pleasure, he rather would giue theim, then take but lit­tle for theim, and farther would saie that no money (if he should in deede esteme of his doynges, accordyng to their perfection) were able, in what quantitie so euer, iustlie to value theim. This Zeuxis with suche perfection de­painted Penelope, that hymself therein, besides others, had most perfect likyng, by meanes whereof, he subscri­bed these fewe wordes, commended of all menne: more easie shal it be, to all suche as shall beholde this, vnkind­lie to enuie it, then with filed hande learnedlie to follow it. He besides these did manie other thinges, so perfecte, so absolute, and in suche sort estimed, that Plinie repor­teth, that euen vntill his tyme, there was reserued of his doyng, a draught of Helena in Rome, as also some o­ther thinges moste curiously depainted: and yet was [Page 66] there, as hath Eusebius, from the tyme of his death, till Plinie afterward was, and did these thinges to wryting, by iuste accompte, fiue hundred and eight yeres. The A­grigentines became suters vnto hym, to frame thē some skilfull purtratie, whiche they might offer vnto their Goddesse Iuno, but he to theim accorded nothing, before (by his commaundemente) thei had presented vnto hym a greate number of naked maides, of rare and comelie beautie, out of whiche he chose fiue, whiche among the reste he déemed to be fairest, and best feutered: who ta­kyng from euerie of these, that whiche in theim best li­ked hym, he finished this excellent, and this fore desired peece. Of Parrasus his competitor, straunge matters also finde we: Strabo writeth, that among sundry other thin­ges, Strabo in his 14. booke. he fashioned in the I [...]le of Rhodes, a Satyre standing fast by a certaine Columne or Piller, on the highest part of whiche, he had depainted a Partridge: but although this Columne, and Satyre were absolutely doen, yet this Partridge so farre surpaste theim in perfection, that in the iudgement of all men she séemed to haue life, so that without regarde of thother parte of the table, eche man was amased at the excellencie of the birde, whose perfe­ction in déede was suche and so absolute, that thei placing before the saied table certeine tame Partridges (as pre­sentlie we may in cages verie easelie kepe theim) began to call, and offered to flie to hym, being as is aboue saied, onely painted. By meane whereof Parrasus besought the Magistrates of Rhodes, that he might with their licence deface and remoue hym, considering it stained the beau­tie of the other partes of the table, whiche were assured­lie most famous and excellent. Plinie also writeth of him matters straunge, and merueilous, affirming that some of his woorkes were also fonnde in Rome. And farther addeth that amonge others, sundrie his perfections, he had a subtill or secrete kinde of practise, besides his open and séemely proportions, whereby he gaue men, plainlie [Page] to vnderstande the nature or conditions, of what soeuer he depainted, as is written, he did in the Idoll of the A­theniens: which in such order and maner he handled, that besides the rare beautie, and excellencie of the subiecte, eche man might sée the ordenaunces, maners, and custo­mes of the Atheniens: who as he was assuredly a prince in that his arte, so was he in all other thinges of a moste sharpe and fined witte, neither in drawyng his lines, or proportions was he bolder, then he was pleasaunt, with all men, merie and well disposed. Whence he ofte tymes would saie that paintyng had well schooled hym, in the perfecte loare and vsage of wisedome, and knowledge But beyng entered, into the consideration of this mat­ter, it shall not bee besides the purpose, some thyng to speake in fewe of Apelles, Prince and maister of all o­ther Painters, as also som what of Protogines, singuler Apelles. Protogines. also, and excellent in this arte.

Of that excellent Painter Apelles, as also of Protogenes an other in his tyme. Chap. 7.

THat of one, and of the saied subiecte, we haue here presently written twoo chapiters, is though for some others, yet chiefly for twoo causes: the one, for that the lengthe, and continued prorsis, wearieth commonlie, what­soeuer the reader, whiche some times before thei come to the ende, forgette what thei redde at the first, or beginnyng: the other, for the dignitie of hym, of whom our penne shall speake here presently, well de­serueth, or meriteth his chapiter a parte, to the intent, it maie the better bee considered of the readers. This then is Apelles in the skill of Paintyng, the onely Phenix, and mercour of all others. He had to maister one Panphi­lus, Pamphilus A­pelles his mai­ster. verie excellent in his science, who neuer tooke scho­ler [Page 67] by the yere, for lesse price, then for one whole talente Attique, valuyng by our accompte, sixe hundred cro [...]nes sterlyng. In the tyme of this Apelles, Protogines also liued, in this arte moste famous, suche bothe, and so per­fecte in their profession, that hardly men knewe, whiche merited higheste commendation. By meane whereof, Apelles aduertised of his excellencie, determined on a time, to go, to visite him, and happely in fewe daies arri­uyng at Rhodes, where at that tyme Protogines dwelt, dissimulyng, that he was driuē thither, by aduerse winde and weather, and entering at the gates, or house of Pro­togines, founde hym not, whom he sought, then present­ly at home, and hauyng demaunded, where he might be, of an olde woman that kept the house, tooke leaue to de­part about other his affaires, but this olde woman saied, whom shall I saie you are, that haue sought here Proto­gines? Apelles straight takyng in hand a pinselle, whiche he there founde, tournyng to her, saied, thou shalt saie to Protogines, that he, that drewe this line here, would gladly haue spoken with hym, and in vttryng these wor­des, framed there so curious a line, so straighte, & so well proportioned that it wel argued what he was, that with learned hande had drawen it. Now after this, Protogi­nes immediatly retournyng, aduertised of all thinges, as is afore saied, who after he had aduised hym selfe, of this skilfull line, said, that besides Apelles, no man that liued, could dooe it: and so incontinently taketh in hande an o­ther pinselle, and with a contrary coloure, vpon Apelles his line, draweth then the seconde, so fine and so well fa­shioned, that besides hym self, none could, by common iudgement doe it, commaunding forthwith his woman, that if he by happe retourned, that she should shewe him that line, as also farther learne hym, that Protogines had doen it, whom he so muche desired. Apelles then re­tournyng, the other beyng for the, the old woman, as she receiued in commaundement of her maister, presenteth [Page] forthwith to him, this second line, to consider of. Where at, as all amased, at the greate aduantage, that Proto­gines had gained, tooke in hande againe, the second time the pinselle, and sondereth in the middle Protogines his line againe, whiche hardly might be seen, so small it was & subtile, but with the third colour, Apelles notwithstan­dyng, in suche extreme perfection, parteth bothe the o­thers, that for the fowerth he leaueth, no kinde of place in the worlde. Protogines then retournyng, and seyng what had chaunced, confeste the truthe, Apelles to bee in deede his better, and runneth all aboute, with painfull care to seke hym, to the onely intente, he might doe hym conuenient honour, lodgyng hym in his house with hym, and with none other. After this, this table with these three lines onely, was broughte vnto Rome, where it longe was kepte, reputed for a miracle, vntill the raigne of Caesar, when as by sodaine fire, with greate sorowe, it was emong other thynges consumed. Apelles when he had nigh perfected any woorke, he vsually would sette it in open stréete to the vien, hymself close hid behinde it, to listen, and to espie, if any man with reason, therein re­proued any thyng, acquaintyng hym self with the iudge­ment, and censure of the people. Now on a tyme it chaū ­ced, that a Shoe maker should passe that waie, who highly commendyng the resude of the woorke, founde some little faulte in the latchette of a shoe: by meane whereof Apelles vpon the saied table, writeth foorthwith these fewe woordes, or sentence, Apelles hath dooen this, but yet hath not doen it, giuyng all others thereby to vnder­stande, that he not yet accompted it, or perfecte, or abso­lute. He liued in the tyme of Alexander the greate, of whose grace, and fauour, in suche sorte he was assured, that Alexander commaunded by edicte, or proclamation, that none should bee so hardie to drawe, or depainte his purtraite, but onely Apelles, emong so many others. Farther he eftsones would goe visite him, when he was [Page 68] workyng in his shoppe alone, whiche argueth the great reuerence, and estimation of that science, as also that A­pelles surpassed euery other. Besides this, loe an other, a rare shewe of his friendship, for Apelles at his commaū ­demente, hauyng drawen to the quicke, and curiously proportioned, one of his fairest, and beste boloued concu­bines, whiche had to name Campaspa, who was in deede Campaspa a concubine of Alexanders. so faire, so perfecte, and so well feautered, that this poore Painter, now became of her enamoureb: whiche thyng, as sone as Alexander ones perfectly vnderstoode, deter­mined to leaue her, as in deede he did, giuing her for wife now, to his sure afflicted, and tormented friende Apelles. Whiche thyng might well be regestred, emong his most famous victories, for that subduyng his owne proper af­fections (whiche is of all others the beste, and happieste conqueste) he contented hymself to forgoe her, bestowe­yng her on an other. Some report that afterward, vpon the saied purtraite of Campaspa, he with excellente skill depainted y^e figure also of Venus. He could so artificially counterfaicte to the quicke, that on a tyme Ptolomie, as well one of Alexanders successours, as also kyng of E­gipte (after whose death, he liued still in Ptolomies indi­gnation) ordained a greate, a riche, and a solemne banket vnto the whiche, in plain derision, and mockerie, Apelles was inuited a geast in the kynges name, whom, whē the kyng espied, in greate ire, and disdain, demaunded whose geaste he was, and who had called hym thither: whiche when he vnderstoode, he tooke in hande a cole, and with­out any aunswere, sodainly proportioned a certain face, or visage, whiche as it was knowen his, that vnhonest­ly brought hym thither, so was it there by euidente, that he to name had Planus. Many other thynges right mer­nailous, were also dooen by hym, whiche in this place would bee longe, and tedious to remember. In histories, notwithstandyng, we reade of thynges almoste impossi­ble, as that he should depainte the scorchyng beames of [Page] the Sunne, the lightnynges also, and thunders, with o­thers the like, and semblable. His woorkes to conclude, were suche, and so excellent, that a certaine table of his, of parte by mishappe stained (in whiche Venus was pur­traied, as issuyng out of the sea, whiche also Octauian, as an especiall ornamēt, did to be placed in the temple of Iu­lius Caesar) could neuer after bée mended, for none durste bee so bolde, to take the thyng in hande, not able to con­forme it to the first, and auncient paterne. Not long be­fore his death (the laste thing that he did) he yet beganne an other, or draughte, or pourtraite, of the saied Venus, so perfecte, and so absolute, in all respectes, and partes, that diyng before he ended it, none after might be found, y^e durst, or could wel ende it. He depainted also a horse, in suche extreame perfection, that other Painters tooke it for a patrone, and example, whence hauyng in the ende pourtraied many a curious steede, and prickt with emu­lation, eche huntyng after fame, would make some final proofe, whiche nighest touchte the marke, and so doyng to be brought, certaine horses out of a stable, leadyng thē before these others now depainted, which past, and past againe, as nothyng there at moued: but when Apelles his horse was brought into the place, the other began to braie, & stirre, as is their common vsage, whiche thing to do, thei refused at the presence of th' others: whence how farre he surpaste thē in th' excellencie of this worke, was euidente without more, and plaine to be séen of all men. Besides this, his happie witte was not onely séen, in his passyng skill of painting, but further, by his learned, and philosophicall sentences: for beyng commended of Pro­togines, as one that farre excelled all others, in that his arte, aunswered, you are quoth he Protogines, myne e­quall, and my fellowe, onely one faulte you haue, that you neuer solace your selfe, foredulled with incessaunte with wearie toile, & practise. Learnyng him therby, that continuall paine, and labours, without conuenient cesse, [Page 69] or moderate recreation hurteth, and annoieth the spiri­tes, and vnderstandyng, as on the other side some pretie pleasaunte exercise, comforteth the weried man▪ and hardneth hym a freshe, the better now to tolerate what soeuer his first, and principall indeuour. An other shew­yng hym a certaine table of his doynge, vaunted that he had doen it, in shorte time, and in hast to whom he saied, I sée it in the woorke, though thou haddest tolde me no­thyng. Now might we in this place speake also of Pro­togines, of his fined woorkes, his graue and worthy sai­ynges: although in this respect for his honour & renoume at the seige of Rhodes, the sole and onely practise of De­metrius might suffice. Who if he once would haue geuen fire to a certain parte of the toune, had entred at his plea­sure, and conquired the whole, but beyng assured that in the saied place, there was reserued a table depainted by Protogines, would by no intreatie attempte the thinge that waie, but rather would faile to sacke, and spoile the citie, then to burne this table of such price he estemed it. The first day therfore that he by happe beseiged it. Pro­togines was founde without the Citie in a small or litle gardine, busied at his worke as if there had been nothing, who although in déede, he knewe the presence of the en­nimie, yet woulde he not leaue to followe, therefore his wonted practise. So being brought forthwith, vnto De­metrius, was demaunded how he durst in suche sorte to tarie, and arrest hym without the citie. I assured my self saied he, that thou wast here in armes, against the Rho­dians only, and not against good sciences. This doen, this prince committed hym to certaine of his souldears, to the intente that while he was busied in his paintyng no man might disturbe, disquiet, or molest hym, whom also while he wrought, Demetrius in person came ofte times to be holde hym. Besides these, harde were it to remem­ber how manie haue excelled in this skill, or science, as Aristides, Asclepiodorus, Nichomachus, Paneus the [Page] brother of Fidias, with a multitude of others, which Pli­nie in his fiue and thirtie booke remembreth. And to the intente that men herein, chalenge not to theim selues, all honour or praise, as to theim belongyng onely, wee may remember women their felowes, and their equal­les, whiche haue doen straunge thinges, as anie aboue remembred: as for example, Timerata the doughter of Miconis, whiche in suche passing excellencie depainted for the Diana, that it long times afterwarde was moste carefully kepte, and honoured still in Ephesus, Irena, Ca­lipsa, Olimpia, Lala Cizicena, with others also many, like famous for their skill in all ages to be honoured. In thys our tyme also many a good worke man leueth, of whom I will write nothing, leste remembryng one or twoo. I should wrong a greatar number.

Of a straunge maner of exile vsed in Athens, by mea­nes of which the most honourable and worthiest per­sonages were oftentymes banished, without any of­fence, or faulte at all committed. Chap. 8.

THE seigneurie or common weale of Athens (as is to all menne well kno­wen) was one of the most honorablest and richeste in the world: for after it leaft to be gouerned by kinges, resto­red againe vnto desired libertie, it fo­stered and gaue forthe, greate num­bers of worthie men, in armes no lesse excellent, then in all kinde of good letters, of whiche all histories are eue­rie where well furnished. But among all other profita­ble lawes and customes, which thei carefullie obserued, for the onely conseruation of their gouernement, and li­bertie, there was one amonge the reste as well verie straunge, as to theim onely proper, which thei notwith­standyng [Page 70] déemed verie fitte and necessarie, as well to re­presse and chastice, the proude ambition, and intollera­ble audacitie, of certaine their nobles, whiche waxed in oppression, and tyrannie so cruell, that the poore colde no where liue exempte from their malice, whiche was suche as here after followeth. At one certen and deter­minate time, all the inhabitantes, of what estate or con­ditiō soeuer, had full aucthoritie to exile and banishe (yea were it though without cause or reason) any one of their péeres, without respect, for the full space of tenne whole yeres, as if they hated hym, or feared lest he shoulde by tyrannie vsurpe, or ambitiously chuse to him, the whole gouernement or state, or if for any other cause in com­mon, they either did malice, or disdaine his person, they proceded once assembled, in this sorte and maner. The magistrates first of all, to whom onely this charge was committed, hauyng (as is saied) assembled the multitude together, gaue to euery one of theim a little white stone or tile, in which eche man should write the name of him whom he desired at that tyme aboue all others to be ba­nished, which after their inscription they restored again immediatly to the 'officers, whiche stones or tiles, the Greekes called (Ostraci) whence this maner of exile was also termed Ostracismus. These stones with their inscri­ptions Ostracismus. this brought in againe together, thei began forth with orderly to number, and if at leaste there were not founde with one inscription six thousande (for in these assembles, no man was against his will forced, to write anie mans name in his stone, vnlesse he founde hymselfe greued, or otherwise for his pleasure woulde vnkindlie do it) they exiled for that yere no man at al. But if there were founde six thousande or more altogether agréeyng on one, and the like number againe perhappes on some other, then would they carefully accompte, and number their stones, and he that was of moste in this sorte re­membred, were he though some times the most vertu­ous, [Page] and moste riche within the citie, yet was he incon­tinently banished for the space of tenne whole yeres, without any kinde of pardon, mitigation, or remission. Notwithstandyng in the meane tyme, no man depriued hym of his possessions, neither in his gooddes, or landes suffered he any domage, but according to his pleasure, or phantasie, he in all poinctes ordered theim, reapyng the fruictes or commodeties thereof, in as ample and large maner, as if he neuer had been forced to exile at all. Nei­ther was this lawe, or custome onely ordeined, to cha­stice and correct the ambious extortioner, but also to ap­pease the rage of the common people, moued at times or incenste against their Princes: so that by generall con­sente, the Commons inioynge thys aucthoritie or pri­uelege, banished sometymes those, whose absence in déede, was to their coutrie verie profitable [...] some tymes suche againe, onely by vnkinde and vnaduised ingrati­tude, whom for their honest seruice doen to their coun­trie, thei neither coulde, nor should without their greate harme or detrement haue wanted. For proofe whereof Themistocles that excellente capitaine (by whose onely counsaile and diligence, Xerxes was vanquished, and chast out of Grece. His nauie also discomfited and scatte­red on the Sea, neither was Athens only by hym resto­red to libertie, but also all Grece to their desired freedom) was by this practise vnkindly exiled. Like salerie recei­ued Simon that renoumed Athenian, whiche liued euen then in the same tyme with the other, whiche also so of­ten tymes had been in fielde for the safetie of his coun­trie, wher, by his prowes, and counsaile, he accomplished suche enterprises, as peraduenture shall neuer anie one man againe after hym, to wéete he subdued the Persians on the Sea, and tooke of theim at one tyme twoo hun­dred Gallies, and the same daie not hauyng throwly yet quailed their corrage, landed in good order with all his armie, geuing present bataile to the resude of that com­panie, [Page 71] which were then landed before hym, a houge and greate number, whom all notwithstandyng he victori­ously conquered, by Sea and by lande a most fortunate Capitaine. Besides these his excellente vertues, he was also verie large and liberall vnto al men, makyng small accompte of his goods where with fortune aboue others had largely indued hym: he did continually to be opened his fildes, and gardeines, to the ende, the indigent might thence gather suche thinges as they had néede of: he se­cretly also gaue to all men large almes, throughout the whole Citie, he péetied the afflicted, and comforted the néedie. He farther by expresse commaundemente, gaue charge to all his seruantes, that if thei any where founde an olde man bare or ill appareled, they forthwith should bestowe on hym, that theimselues hadde on presentlye, contēted to take for chaunge, their meane and poore ar­raie. To conclude he daily prouided a greate feaste, for al poore men, without respecte, within the compasse of A­thens, by meanes whereof in shorte tyme, he verie nigh hadde consumed whatsoeuer to hym was lefte by his fa­ther Milciades. All these notwithstandyng his princelie demerites, neither coulde or were able to exempte him from this exile, from the vnknowen crueltie, and in­gratitude of his countrie, as to their perpetuall ignomi­nie at full recordeth it Cratinus a Poete comicall, and Gorgias Leontinus. In maner semblable was banished Aristides, the soonne of Lisimachus, who for his excellen­cie, and vertuous life, was of all men for good cause sur­named the iuste, notwstandyng the people both feared, & suspected hym continually. Aboute the time then that thei should proceade in these affaires, behold his straūge happe, worthy of consideration, there approacheth vnto hym one of the citisens, whiche as he colde not write, so neither knewe he at all Aristides, but by fame for hys vertues onely, requestyng hym to write vpon his tile or stone, the name of Aristides, whom he saied he woulde [Page] helpe at that tyme to banishe. Wherat Aristides, as al­together amased (for he neuer suspected any suche mat­ter) called hym, and saied: frende come hether, hath A­ristides doen thee any displeasure? Noe saied he, but it greueth me to heare hym surnamed Aristides the iuste. Plutarche in this sorte recordeth this matter, but Pau­lus Emilius affirmeth, that he framed hym this aun­swere: I knowe not Aristides, but I suppose it will lit­tle profite hym, that with suche diligence, and in so short tyme, he hath attained to that fame, and honour, to bee called (as you heare) of all men Arististes the iuste. How be it, Aristides at all, gaue hym no aunswere, but wrote, as his will was, his owne name in his stone. By whiche meanes afterwarde, vnkindly exiled, neither waxte he angrie, or greeued with his countrie, but contrariwise moste quietly departynge, in presence of the multitude, and before theim all saied: I praie the immortall Gods, that the Athenians neuer fall into any such kinde of mi­serie, that they shoulde haue néede of, or desire Aristides againe. And in déede so came it to passe, that within fewe daies afterwarde they repented theym of their folly, ac­knowledging with greate grief their faulte and errour: for before these ten yeres of his exile were expired, yea in the sixte yere, by common consent, and suffrage of the people, he was called home againe, to his perpetuall ho­nour, but to their ignominie, & the inexcusable shame: af­ter which his retourne, he did sundry valiaunt, and wor­thie exploytes, beyng in person presente, in that daunge­rous conflict, on the Sea adioyning to the Isle Salamina, where Xerxes was vanquished, as also presente, at the ouerthrowe of Mardonius. So that as I firste saied, thys lotte' of exile for the most parte stil fell on the most wor­thie, Mardonius was one of Xerxes Capi­taines. and most renoumed personages. Notwithstanding though hence grewe infinite discommodities, yet had it neuer the lesse, a certaine shewe, or countenaunce of ho­nour or maiestie, especially that it helde menne from v­surpation [Page 72] an tyrannie, dréedyng the displeasure and au­thoritie of the people. Plutarche writeth that the seigno­rie of Athens on a tyme florishyng as well in wealth, as in martiall affaires, and chiualry, there were two great estates in honour like, excelling all others, Nicias thone, Nicias, and Al­cibiades, eache enuious of o­thers honour. and Alcibiades the othe: which both in all thinges were verie curious and daintie, like ambitious and desirous of glory, pursuing eche the other with enuious emulation: the time now of this Ostracismus verie fast approaching of whiche we haue aboue remembred, both fearyng the imminent incōuenience, & peril, did what in theim was, to assure theimselues from the hard sentence of exile. In this tyme ther also was in Athens one that had to name Hiperbolus, of base condition, proude, notwitstanding, & verie seditious, whiche, not ignoraunt of the emulation betwixt Nicias, and Alcibiades, practised by all meanes, to increase the same, sowyng betwixte theym seedes of impacable discorde and dissention, hoping by this policie, to gain some reputation as also presupposing, that these twoo, this remainyng (as he well trusted) enimies, the one of theim shoulde be banished by the Ostracismus fol­lowyng, by meane whereof, he imagined to gaine his place, and honour, and so consequently to be accompted one of the chéefest of the whole citie. But thei both verie shortly, well skilled of his practise, disdainyng that he of so meane estate, shoulde by this meanes become their equall, secretly asswaged their yre, and malice, plightyng present frendshippe, and amitie, eche to other, better li­kyng to cease from their rancour and malice, then to a­bide the hassard of this present shame, and infamie. This doen eche of theym attempted nowe busilie together to exile by the Ostracismus, the malicious, infortunate, and vnhappie wretche Hiperbolus. Wherin they so careful­lie and so wisely traueiled, that they in déede accompli­shed, that thei so then affected, folding hym in that snare, that he prouided had for others. At which thing y^e whole [Page] multitude brake out into a laughter, beholdyng a wret­che of so vile condition, in exile to be sente forth, whither so many, and so valiaunte a prince, had past before hym. But in the ende this mirth so chaunged into rancour, that this custome therewith ceaste also for euer.

Of sundrie excellent personages, whiche by the ingrati­tude of their Countrie, haue vnkindly been banished. Chap. 9.

ALL histories are euerie where full, of the sundrie and manifolde ingratitu­des, practised by the moste aunciente, and most famous Cities, euen against those, that most honourablie haue ser­ued, and defended theim, in their ne­cessities. We therefore shall remem­ber here not many examples, for that to the studious in good histories, it should be lesse necessarie, and superflu­ous. The greate father of the Romaine eloquence, and Cicero. moste soueraigne oratour, or since, or before hym, which from the perilous coniuration of Cateline deliuered that proude, and pompous citie Rome, was notwithstanding at the sute of his enimie Claudius, in recompence of his desertes vnkindely banished. Which his exile, in Rome, was so muche bewailed, that twentie thousande in one daie wore mourning apparell for hym, by meane wher­of, he was restored to his pristinate libertie, called home with greate ioye, to his inspekable honour. Demosthenes the sole prince of all gréeke eloquence, patrone, and pro­tectour, of his countrie Athens, was also by the Atheni­ans in his olde age, banished, and yet had they had, some countenance of occasion, sufficiente shoulde it not haue been, to haue exiled of theimselues, suche a one as was he. He lamented excessiuelie, and be weapte his depar­ture, so that he wente thence in greate sorowe, and me­lancolie, [Page 73] who méetyng as he paste, certaine Atheniens, his heauie enemies, beganne to haue some feare, and to doubt theim merueilously, whiche not onely did hym no kinde of outrage, but contrariwise did solace, and aide hym, in what soeuer was to him or fittyng or necessarie. Whiche thing some tyme, considered well of hym, as also that he was reproued, for bewalynge his departure, saied againe to those, that did hym these curtisies. Howe would you, that I shoulde not beweepe this my partyng, seyng my selfe banished, from my natiue soyle and coun­trie, where also mine enimies, are suche, and so honeste, that I must thinke my self most happie and fortunate of al men, if in some other place I may finde frendes, as as­sured & comfortable? Metellus surnamed Numidicus, in reward of his victory, which he obtained against Iugurth kyng of Numidia, receiued vnkinde, and harde sentence of exile, onely for that he woulde not accorde vnto a cer­teine lawe, whiche some others, at that tyme desired to establishe. Hannibal after that he had painfully in sudry daungers well serued his countrie, and although besides he was the most honourable, and most renoumed Capi­taine of his tyme, yet might he not inioye the liberties of his countrie, but banished, was forste to range, an vn­happie pilgrime about the world. Camillus was also vn­iustly exiled from Rome, at which time the Gaules helde it in besiege and tooke it, and finally as they assaulted the capitoll it self, he beyng chosen againe in his banishment Dictatour, and Capitaine general of all his countrie, en­tered, flewe, and discomfited theim, & restored the Citie, deliuering theim out of prisō that before had exiled him. Seruilius Halla, after hauynge preserued the libertie of Rome, from the ambitious oppression of Spurius Emi­lius, Capitaine of the horse men, whiche by all meanes possible, affected the croune, and had also doen him open­ly to die, in fine receiued in steede of iuste guerdone, through banishment to liue, an exiled Romaine. No coū ­trie [Page] any where reade I of more bound vnto a man, then was Lacedemonie vnto Licurgus, especially for his la­wes which he so prouidently gaue theim. And although he also were of moste holy, and vertuous conuersation, courtuous and of a gentle spirite, and nature, of whom, as of hym reporteth Valerius Maximus, the oracle of A­pollo Pithius, this doubtfully aunswered, that he knewe not whether he might accompte him, either in the num­ber of the gods, or els of mortall men: notwithstandyng he often tymes was pursued of the citisens with stones, beaten, and driuen by force out of their toune, and in the ende hauyng pluckte one of his eyes out of his heade, ba­nishte hym also out of their lande & territorie. The sem­blabe was also doen, to Solon, by the Atheniens, whiche also gaue them like lawes, and ordinaunces as th'other, whiche if they had (as was his will) continuallie obser­ued, their Empire, by all presumption, had yet still con­tinued. Besides that he also conquered, and recouered the Citie of Salamina, vnto theym, with the same also, aduertising theym of the rebellious coniuration of Pisi­stratus, which by vsurpation and tyrannie, busily sought, and affected the Croune, was yet notwistandyng in his olde, and stoupyng yeres, with moste rigour exiled, not able by any meanes, at their handes to obtaine any one extreme coruer, or ende, hpon their frontires, whereso­euer it should please them there to make ende yet of his werie life, but to cōclude, inexorable, thei exiled him, in­to the Isle of Cyprus. Scipio Nasica, whiche was reputed for the moste vertuous, and worthiest manne in Rome, whiche also neither merited lesse honoure, in the ad­ministration, and gouernemente of the weale pu­blike, then the other Scipioes by their prowes, and courage in the field, he notwitstandyng after he had de­liuered Rome, from the malice, and tyranny of the Gre­kes, vnderstandyng of the enuie, and sinister opinion, that diuers Romaines had conceiued of his vertuous di­merite, [Page 74] fainyng that he wente some where in imbasie, withdrwe hymself,, of purpose, and willingly into Per­gama, wherwithout malising againe his vngrate coun­trie, ended the reste of his daies there in peace. In like maner Publius Lētulus, after he had with honour defen­ded his countrie, repressyng also the furious attemptes of the Gréekes, was with like curtesie, for his paines exiled: howbeit before his departure thence into Sicelie, besought the gods immortall in the presence of the mul­titude, that they neuer woulde permitte that he retour­ned againe, to so vnkinde as were they, and so vnthank­full a people. Boecius Seuerinus, a man to the aboue re­membred in no poincte inferiour, was by Theodoricus the vsurper, dishonourably expulsed, onely for that he supposed, he would paine hymself, to restore his countrie againe to libertie. For this cause also Denis, that execra­ble tyranne, exiled that most worthie Capitaine Dion of Siracusa, who by his exile afterwarde became so puis­sant, that he againe reentred, and banished the tyranne, depriuyng hym, of that hys seignorie for euer, restoryng his countrie to the pristinate, and auncient libertie. The verie semblable happened to Trasibulus, a Capitaine A­thenian, which by the fatall malice of thirtie tyrauntes, that then held the whole countrie in miserable subiecti­on, was also vnnaturallie, and vnkindlie exiled. But he notwithstanding to reuenge himself on them, assembled together diuers others before expelled, with whom, as with the helpe also of Lisander, a Lacedemonian, retour­ned in armes against Athens, and deliuered it from ser­uitude. Publius Rutilius Consull of Rome, banished by the fauorites, or fauters of Silla, though, after desired to returne again, refused saiyng: I will that Rome rather take shame, that she hath so vniustly exiled me, then thanke her to returne again, that so rageth with tyran­nie. Terquinins rhe proude, though not without cause in déede, but for his leude demainoure, caste out of Rome, [Page] lost his honour, and royalme, for the vnchaste rape doen, by his soonne, on Lucretia. Milo Patricius an honourable Romaine, somewhat susspected, touchynge the death of Claudius, whose cause though it were of Cicero defen­ded, was notwitstandyng exiled into Marseilla. Clistines was the firste, that instituted the lawe of banishment in Athens, and the first that by the lawe was thence exiled. Eustachius Pamphilius Bishoppe of Antioche, was ba­nished for that he reproued the schismaticall secte of the Arians, in the tyme, & raigne of Constantine the greate. Paulus Diaconus that famous historiogripher, writeth that Pope Benedictus the firste, was contrarie to Gods lawes and mans lawes, driuen out of Rome, by his en­nemie the Emperour Auton. The saide Auton vanqui­shed the Emperour Beringerius, with his soonne Albert, and sente theim bothe into perpetuall erile. Hence wee learne now, that infinite greate personages haue been expelled from their countries, and in Rome it was estée­med for so greate a punishment, that none was thence banished, before all the people had throwly, consulted of the matter. And assuredlye the affections that man bea­reth, or ofte to beare to his countrie, is continually such, and so vehemente, that wee can not exile without ex­treame paine, and languishe. For the consolation there­fore, of all suche as shal be banished, Plutarche hath wri­ten a singuler treatise, as also Erasmus, to the saide pur­pose a notable Epistle. Seneca in like maner, in his booke of consolation, dedicated to Paulinus, touchyng the saide subiecte discourseth verie learnedlie.

Of a straunge aduenture betide a certaine prisoner, and how after his weary imprisonment, he was in the ende made free and deliuered. Chapt. 10.

[Page 75] AS thinges straunge, and miraculous should not to lightlie for any cause bee remembred, so neither minde I in this place to passe, or to reporte any thing, not lefte vs by some other of sufficient warrant. Alexander of Alexandria, a man as is aboue saide, well skilled in the sciences, writeth this among other things, as a truth most certaine. There was saieth he in Italie, the place he nameth not, a certaine greateprince, or gouernour of that countrie, whom by name he also leaueth, in his di­scourse to remember, in all poinctes mercilis, cruell, and tyrannous. It chaūsed that a poore vassaule of his, a man of meane condition, against his will, and by happe, slewe hym a graye Hounde whiche he muche esteemed, wherat this tyraunte waxte forthwith so wroth, that presently he did hym to bée throwen into a greate and déepe doun­geon, lockte vppe with many kayes, vnder safe and good garde. Shortly after his keper, in bringyng hym (as was his maner) hys repaste or diner, founde all the doores lockte, and barde, as he before had leafte theim: but en­teryng into the place where vsually this prisoner arre­sted hym, founde hym not, but his chaines or fetters all whole, and not sundred. Whiche thing reputed for straunge, and merueilous, was incontinently presented vnto the aboue remembred Gouernour, who with most diligence, that was to him possible, made generall search for hym, from house to house, but failed to heare of hym, any thing in the world. The case, in this respect, séemed therfore miraculous, for that the fetters were all found in the pryson that bounde hym, not crackte, or disriue­ted, but fast and surely ioygned, the gates eke so posted that nothyng might passe therat. Thrée daies after this, the prysone so remaynyng, as before still fastened, the kéepers then voyde of al charge, or care, hearde notwith­standyng a soden skriche, or crie, in the same place, wher [Page] of custome this poore wretch before was lodged, and ha­stynge to the place, to see what it might bee, founde the poore prysoner there crauyng hys dinner, who was as before, faste folded in hys fetters, hys face pale, wan, dreadfull to looke on, his eyes hollowe, and staryng, re­semblyng more perfectly, a deade corse, then man liuing. These keepers hereat, altogether amased, demaunded hym where, or in what place he hadde suggerned, but he againe woulde aunswere theym nothyng, but that they forthwith shoulde bryng hym to the gonernour, for that he had to acquainte hym with matters of importaunce, wherof his lorde, and seigniour aduertised, was brought incontinently, accōpained of many, before whom and in whose presence, he presented thus hys charge. Findyng my selfe saieth he, prysoner, in so lothsome and obscure a pryson, I entred with verie payne, into déepe dispayre, callyng on the Fende for sucker, and assistaunce, to the intent he thence would carrie me, whither soeuer it best might like hym: who after small sute in terrible forme appeared, with whome in all pointes I throwly agreed, so that he thence would, and out of pryson deliuer mee. Immediatly then he tooke me, and remoued me thence, I knowe not how, which waie, nor whither, sodenly de­scendyng into certaine déepe places, terrible, tempestu­ous, obscure, and dreadfull, where I behelde infinite mil­lions, and millions again of people, whiche with vnspea­kable torment of fier, as well as otherwise, were so af­flicted, as my tongue in no sorte canne speake or vtter, their tortors were ougly, and rampyng deuilles: there sawe I all sortes of people whatsoeuer, as Kinges, Po­pes, Dukes, Prelates, with diuers of mine owne ac­quaintaunce, late deade, and departed hence. Farther there founde I an olde frend of youres, of al others some tyme, most faithfull and assured, whiche of you demaun­ded me muche, of your behauour, and maners, and whe­ther you yet remained suche as you were wonte to bee [Page 76] (to wéete) a fell, and most accursed tyranne: to whom I aunswered yea, and that you still remained, without chaunge the same, that he at hys death, and departure hence left you. By meanes wherof he moste instauntly besought me, that at my firste returne I shoulde, from hym earnestly aduertise you, to make chaunge of youre life, to leaue this your tyrannie, with none vnreasona­bly taxis, to charge or greue the people, with many such others, the like and semblable, for he assertened me that your place was there lotted out with him, where you E­ternally should smart for it, if in time you repented not. And to th'intēt you the better should credite me, he gaue me to remember you, by this signe or token: tell him said he, that when we both were in filde, and in armes toge­ther, that he remember, that one a tyme our watche worde was suche, which, suche as it was in dede, the pri­soner faithfully recounted. This vnderstoode, this greate lord or gouernour, began forthwith to feare, to tremble and appaule, assured that God onely, his frende, and hym selfe, knewe of thys watche worde, and besides theym none other, and then demaunded what apparell, hys frende hadde on hym presently, who aunswered that he was none otherwise cladde, then he was wonte to bee here, attired sumptuously in crimsin Satten. How be it saide he, in déede, it was none suche as it appeared, for it nothyng els was, but a burnyng, and continuall fier, for proofe wherof saide he, as I approached to haue thouchte hym by the sléeue, I burnte my hande, as you presentlie maye heere sée. Besides these he spake of other visions, both fearefull, and terrible, of whiche all when this gen­tleman had well considered, he willed hym to be at liber­tie, in his owne house or pallace. Some reporte that heé was so pale, and ougly, that hardly hys owne wife, or o­ther his frendes coulde knowe hym. He after this liued not many daies, skarce of perfecte minde, f [...]antike and weake. Notwistandyng how fewe soeuer they were, he [Page] spente theim yet vertuously, prouidynge onely for the health and safetie of hys soule, for hauyng ordered howe his goods should be after hym distributed, he continually spent the tyme, in bewailyng his offences. But how this matter profited, or called to repentance this noble man, therof writeth Alexander no one worde at all, onely af­firmyng this history to be true.

That the bloodde of a Bulle causeth theim to die that drinke therof at any time, as also, who first brought the Bull to the yoke. Chap. 11.

FOr as much as a Bull is a beast so common, and ordinarie, that wee as well féede on hym in e­uerie our necessities, as of that which he ingendereth mannes principall prouision, it mighte appeare straunge and contrary to nature, that his blood dronke warme, with out anie kinde of mixtion, shoulde impoyson, or cause man presently, to sterue, and to dye. Dioscorides notwithstandyng, as also [...]. in his▪ 6 booke. Pli. in his. 28. Plinie affirme that hys blood warme, is verie pestilente, and venemous, and that it killeth whosoeuer thereof drinketh. Plutarche writing of Midas, of whom so many good histories, and fables also make mention, saieth that he beyng troubled with certaine terrible imaginations, or visions, in to whiche without amendmente he dai­lie entred farder and farder, by no meanes able to finde any kinde of remedie, determined (which he also perfor­med) to drinke the bloodde of a Bull strangled, whereof incontinentlie, and forth with he died, Themistocles an Athenian, and excellent Capitaine, whiche defended all Grece from the violence, and inuasions of Xerxes, exi­led from his countrie, wente thence to the courte of Ar­taxerxes, [Page 77] vnto whom (for iust cause greued with his vn­kynde countrie) he promised to vtter a certaine meane, how he should easely subdue and conquire all Grece: but when after the king called on him for the performaunce thereof, he then againe with minde wholy altered and chaūged, desired rather to die, then to acquite him of hys promes, and so fainyng that he first would sacrifice vnto Diana, drancke the bloodde of a Bull, whiche he then had sacrificed, whence he presently dyed as recordeth Plu­tarche. Plutarch in the life of Themi­stocles. The cause or reason that may hereof be geuen, why I saie, the blood of a bull droncke warme should kil, is borrowed of Aristotle, Plinie, and Dioscorides, who to Aristotle in his thirde boke, de animalibus. Plinie in his leuenth booke Dioscorides in his sixte boke. geather affirme, that it is, for none other cause, but that this bloodde so druncke straungely congealeth, and hard­neth incontinently, yea muche more then the bloodde of any other beaste: so that in quantitie, once entered into the stomake, it curdeth, causing faintnes and suffoca­tion, and stoppeth with the same the forces of respira­tion, and feelyng, whence sodenlie of necessitie follow­eth also death. Plinie wryteth, that Colewo [...]rtes boyled in the abouesaide bloodde are verie medicinable againste an opilation: this bloodde then by it selfe drouncke is pe­stilente, and venemous, but in composition mixt with o­ther thinges, is both holsome and profitable. Manne (to whom god hath framed all thinges subiecte) hath by this beaste no lesse profite, and seruice, then by the others of that kynde, whiche he alone ingendreth. For which one­ly cause Columella preferreth hym before all other bea­stes, affirmyng that to kill a Bull, was in tymes paste, a crime verie heinous, and almost in déede capital. Plinie writeth of one that was banished, for that he kilde a bul. The firste that tamed the Bull, and laide youke on hys Diodorus in his fourth and fifte booke. necke, was as Diodorus reporteth one Denis, or Dioni­sius, the soonne of Iupiter and Proserpina. But Plinie in his seuenth booke déemeth the contrarie, affirmyng that it was an Athenian, and hight Briges, others some sup­pose [Page] that it was Triptolemus, of whom Virgill in thys sorte séemeth to saie, that he an infant, was maister not­withstandyng, and inuentour of the crooked Plough. Ser­uius indifferentlie attributeth it as well to Orsiris, as to Triptolemus. I suppose that Virgill leafte thereof to dis­couer the name, of the inuentour of a thing so profitable, and necessarie, for that (as it maie bee presumed) it was not the inuention of one sole man onely: but rather the wante and lacke therof, hath forced man in this case to deuise or inuente some thyng, to whiche some others to perfect it, haue also after added some what. Trogus Pom­peius recounteth, that Auidis Kyng of Spaine, was the firste that layde maisteryng hande on the wilde and sa­uage Bull, the firste also that fitted theim to the yoke, or Plough: but in fine whosoeuer it were, verie necessarie is hys seruice, and profitable in mannes affaires. This beast feedeth contrarie to all others, for in takyng his re­paste he goeth alwaies backwardes, all others, of what soeuer kynde, marchyng still on wardes. Aristotle wry­teth Aristotle in his thirde boke de animalibus. of a certaine kind of Bulles in Frigia, whose hornes are not fastened in the inner parte of their heades, and in the bone, but tossyng to and fro, growe onely copled to the skinne, by meane whereof they so turne theym at their pleasure, as their eares, whiche thyng Elian in like sorte plainly recordeth. The first that tamed Bulles in Rome, and kilde theim for mannes vse, was Iulius Cae­sar, whiche thyng Plinie recordeth largelie. This beaste hath this propertie of nature or qualitie lente hym that he skilefully prognosticateth of the weather continual­ly, for when it shall raine, he foresheweth it, in moun­tyng hys snoute, breathyng into the ayre, or otherwise in séekyng some couerte besides his wonted manner.

How necessarie water is in all the vses of mannes life, of the excellencie of this element, and how to finde or trie, the best water from the other. Chap. 12.

[Page 78] IN all, the vses of mannes life, no one thyng is founde more necessarie, then the elemente of water, for if he lacke at any tyme bread, he maie with sun­dry kindes of meates as hearbes nou­rishe the bodie, and if fire faile hym, sunderie thynges are yet good, and holsome to be eaten rawe, so that man maie continue, and liue of them for a tyme: but without water, neither can man, beast, or what so els is, liue, or continue in this worlde at all. There is neither herbe, neither plante, of what sort so euer he be, that without water, giueth any kinde of increase: for what so euer is, without exception it needeth some tymes water. Whence Thales Milesius, as also Hesiodus, imagined, that water was the begin­nyng of all thynges, the moste auncient, and first of the other thre elementes, in vertue also, and force, without comparison surpassyng them: for as hath Plinie, and also Isidorus, water moisteth and subuerteth greate moun­taines, it ruleth, and hath dominion ouer the whole face of the yearth, it quencheth fire, and chaunged, into va­pours, it also mounteth, or passeth into euery the regi­ons of the aire, whence after a time, again it descendeth to giue increase, and multiplie all thynges vpon yearth. Farther, God so muche estemed this elemente aboue the reste, that concludyng, to regenerate man againe by Baptisme, would that his safetie should growe of parte by this elemente. And in the beginnyng of the worlde, when he first deuided the waters, he in suche estimation had it, as hath the texte, y^t he almoste nexte would place it vnderneath the heauens, lesse mindyng in that place, that houge heape of water, that boundeth, and limiteth the partes of the yearth. The greatest torment that the Romaines, had at any tyme prouided for the cōdemned, was that thei were interdicted, bothe from water, and fire, remembryng water in this place before the other, [Page] for the more assertained, and assured excellencie. Sithe then water is so necessarie, in euery the vses of mannes life, here must we then cōsider of waters, which are the better. For accomplishement whereof, this maie be the firste note, who so will passe through places straunge, and vnknowen, desirous to learne, whither the waters be there holsome, yea, or not, as also whether they bée to be caried any other where, as necessitie, at tymes, or for causes, maie require, first let hym diligently, & with ad­uise consider, the places adiacent about the spryng, or ri­uer, how long the inhabitantes there liue, their dispo­sition, and nature. Whither thei be healthie, strong, and valiant, and of good complection, their iyes not infected, their legges of good proportion, and able, suche where so euer thei bee well witnes of the goodnes of their wa­ter: but contrary, if you finde them, then contrary must be your iudgement. But if your spring be late founde, so that the fore saied experience, of no parte helpe vs, then will we referre you to the practises followyng. Take a basme of Brasse; or other vestell, cleane, neate, and very well polished, then throwe some droppes of that wate [...] there on (of that water I meane, of whose goodnes you would make experimente) and if after it bee dried, you finde at all no kinde of stain, or marke; then is that wa­ter assuredly, bothe good and holesome▪ An other good proofe maie be, if you please to boile of this water, in the saied vessell, and after it hath boiled, to let it for a tyme; to stande, to settle, and to coole, then after when ye shall empte it, if in the bottome, you finde no kinde of slime; or sande, then is that water to be reputed for good: and of these waters, if ye make proofe of two, that whiche hath least, is to be accōpted, without more the beste. Farther if in these vessels, or in the semblable, you doe to bée boi­led any kinde of pulse, to make there with some potage, or other meate, as beanes, pease, or other of that sorte, that water in whiche thei first seeth, is beste. You must [Page 79] consider also, if certainly you will, iudge of waters, in what place, or soile thei spring, and rise, if out of a sandie grounde, cleare, andneate, or contrary out of a mirie soile, foule, and vnpure, and whither there growe any Rushes, or other herbes, or weedes noisome, and pesti­lente: but for better suretie, who so would drinke of a water vnknowen, or of suche, as he deemeth to bee indeede, lesse good, lette hym with a small fire, firste of all boile hym, and then after beyng colde, drinke of hym in his neede. Plinie writeth, that the Emperour Nero, so boiled his water, and then coolyng it in the Snowe, glo­ried that he was the father of suche an inuention. The reason why water boiled, should therefore be more con­ducible, is for that it is not pure, and simple in his owne nature, but is all together mixt, bothe with the earth, and the aire: notwithstandyng, the parte windie, as it easily resolueth, by the fire into vapours, so that other substaunce also terrestriall, by the saied vertue, or force of the fire (whose qualitie, is to trie, and disioigne contra­ry natures) descendeth to the bottome, and lower par­tes of the vessell. By whiche meanes, this boiled water romaineth lesse vaporous, all the windie substaunce thereof perfectly consumed: it also again is more subtile, and light, beyng this purified from the grosse and stimie substaunce, and so consequently more easie to be kepte, and conserued, compitently refreshyng, and moistyng the bodie, without any alteration, or opilation at all. Whence it is euidente, that these deepe welles, or tye pittes, giue none so good, and holesome waters, as are the others, principally for that, the water more sauou­reth of some slimie nature, and that it is at no tyme, pu­rified by any shewe of the soonne, as that also it more ea­sily putrifieth then any other. How bee it, the more that you drawe out of any suche Welle, the better, and the more profitable becometh the water, for that by conti­nuall motion, corruption lesse ingendereth, and nothing [Page] better frō putrifaction preserueth any water, then per­petuall, and incessante agitation: for ones corrupted, it impoisoneth the newe waters, in their springes theim selues, as letted or lackyng frée course or passage: but stil drawen, newe commeth on more freshe still, and saue­rie. For whiche cause the water of standing pondes, and diches, is of all other moste pestilente, and venemous, whiche, for that it hardely springeth, and hardely passeth thence againe, putrifieth, and ingendereth sunderie im­poisoned matters, and ofte tymes (whiche worste is) it corrupteth the aire, whence the inhabitauntes there a­bout, are ordinarily infected. Consider we also, that these waters, whiche flowe towardes the Southe, are not so holesome, as those that runne to the North: for the aire in the Southe, is more vaporous, and moiste, whiche hurteth of parte, and impaireth the water: but in the Northe more subtile, and drie, whēce the water is more light, and more voide of ill mixtions. For whiche cause, that water is euer more beste, whiche is moste cleare, moste light, moste subtile, and moste purified, for it is, as we fore saied moste free, from the mixtion of the o­ther elementes, and beyng set ouer the fire, wareth al­so warme, and boileth before any other. Farther also, a verie certaine, and singuler proofe of waters is this, if ye circumspectly consider, whiche of them first, or before the other boileth, beyng bothe putre in like vessels, ouer one fire, with like consideration of tyme in them bothe, also whiche of them in like maner, firste retourneth to his naturall qualitie, to bee that, he firste was, colde in taste, and feelyng, for these are assured argumentes, of a most subtile, and pearsing substaunce: and for as much as the mixture of the yearth, with any kinde of water, forceth, or canseth some alteration in waight, it shall be good to chuse still, that whiche you finde lighteste, whiche easily you maie proue in this sorte, and maner followyng. You shall take twoo peces of linen clothe, of [Page 80] one and the same weight, puttyng one into one water, and the other into the other, vntill they be both throwe moistned, and weete, then hang theim in the ayre, wher the Sunne shineth not on theim, so long vntill thei both be perfectly drie, rewaight theim then againe, and the cloth whiche you finde to peise or drawe deepest, argueth his water to bee vndoubtedly moste waightiest. Other some haue vsed for their more expedition to waigh them in vesseles pure, neate, cleane, in waight not differyng, with out any farther curiositie at all. Aristotle and Pli­nie affirme, that the greatest cause of diuers qualities in waters, is, and riseth onelye of sundrie substaunces, or maners of their soiles, by the meanes of Stones, Trées Mines, and Mettalles, through which these springes or Riuers runne, and for this cause they become some hotte, some colde, some swéete some salte, some sauerie, some lesse sauerie: wherefore it is a sure, and an infalli­ble rule, that these waters that haue no taste, smell, or sauour, are continually reputed, for the moste holsome, and beste. Al suche notwithstādyng, as haue hereof wri­ten, togither affirme, that these springes, that passe tho­rowe mines of gold, excell, without comparison, by ma­ny degrées the others: for proofe whereof, these riuers are accompted moste worthie of all others, whiche in­gender and preserue gold in their fine, and small sandes: but because we perticulerly, some thyng haue saied of the proprietie of springes, and riuers, we leaue here to wearie the reader with examples. Now then, sith some thynges haue been spoken of fountaines, and flouddes, it followeth that we consequently treate of rainie wa­ters, whiche of some are reputed for verie soueraigne, and medicinable, but of others some accompted lesse profitable, or necessarie. Vitruuius and Columella, with cer­taine other Phisitians, highly commende all rainie wa­ters, but these especially that are receiued cleane, pure, without any kinde of grosse, or terrestriall substaunce: [Page] for that of them selues, saie thei, these waters, are light, and voide of all mixtion, caused onely of vapours, which by their onely subtilitie, are taken vp into the aire, lea­uyng, as maie bee supposed, all impure, or slimie sub­staunce behinde theim. Some neuerthelesse, saie, that this water, descendyng in this sorte from aboue, prutri­fieth incontinently, as is to bée seen in standyng pooles, or diches, whiche ingender infinite ordures. How bee it, to speake indifferently, this is not to be attributed, to a­ny defaute, or imperfection in this water, but rather for that it is reserued in so vile a place, into whiche moste commonly flowe, all noisome sinckes, and vnsauerie gutters, with others of that sorte, lesse meete to bée here remembred, as also of parte, by the ordure, that it dra­weth, and bryngeth with it, washyng the yearth, as it floweth into the aboue saied troughes, or diches, especi­ally when it powreth doune, or raineth aboundauntlie. Wherefore, the cause of this sodaine corruption, of part procedeth from the extreme heate of the Sunne, of part for that it is so pure, and delicate, but mixte now with suche contagious, and lothesome impurities, that it im­mediatly, and without staie, corrupteth of necessitie. Notwithstandyng, if this water so subtile, and well pu­rified, were taken, fallyng from houses, voide of duste, or filthe, or rather before it touche any house, or other thing, were receiued into sonie cleane, and pure vessell, it maie be thought, that it would proue, more pure then any other, as also that it longer might bee, without pu­trifaction preserned. Others some there are, that plain­ly affirme the contrary, as Plinie that writeth it to bee Plinie in his 32. boke, and third chapiter. nought, and vnholesome, who also commaundeth, that we neither drinke, or taste of it, for that these vapours, whence it in the beginnyng, and firste of all riseth, issue, and procede of diuerse thynges, as also of diuerse soiles, whence it also receiueth diuers, and different qualities, good, and badde, with like, and with the same facilitie. [Page 81] And againe alleagyng some farther proofe, for his asser­tion, answereth also to that, that we aboue remembred, lesse admitting it for comprobation sufficient, as to saie, that it therfore is pure, or light, because it is drawne in­to the regions of the aire, whether it (as is euidente) not naturally mounteth, but is taken by secrete force, and violency of the sunne. Neither are these vapours, saieth he, which in the middle regiō of the aire, by extreme cold are altered into haile, or snowe, so pure, and so perfecte, as most men suppose them, but resolued into water, are rather founde in verie deede pestiferous, and noisome. Besides whiche defecte, he this againe addeth, that this rainie water, by the onely euaporation, and heate of the yearth, becommeth infected, euen in the same tyme, and instante that it raineth. For better proofe of whiche im­puritie, it onely is to bee noted, how quickly, and how sone, it becometh putrified, of whiche wee haue experi­ence, often tymes vpon the sea, where it impossible is, to preserue, suche waters from corruption. For these causes now cisternes, and depe welles, are of most men lesse commended. How be it, touchyng these differente, and contrary opinions, eche manne maie sentence, ac­cordyng to his phantasie: as for my parte, I willynglie would not prefarre, a rainie water, before the others, although in truthe it bee, in cases more fittyng, and ne­cessarie, and although also Plinie, whiche other wise, dis­commendeth it, letteth not to reporte, that fishes in stā ­dyng pondes, and lakes, quickely waxe fatte, but then moste especially, when it moste aboundantly raineth, so as thei maie be thought still, to please moste in this wa­ter. Theophrastus saieth, that all hearbes in the gardein wéedes, or grasse, what quantitie of water so euer you bestowe on theim, spring thence, notwithstandyng, in no respecte so well, as with some pleasaunte, or smalle showers of raine. In maner semblable writeth Plinie, of the reede, or bulle rushe, whiche the better to growe, [Page] or prospere, thirsteth still for raine. Suche also is Aristotles opinion, and consonante to the former, concernyng the fattyng, or impairyng of fishes.

By what policie we may drawe freash water out of the Sea: and why colde water in fallyng maketh grea­tet noyse then it woulde doe, if it were warme: final­ly why a Shippe on the salte water, beareth greater weight then on the freashe, Chap. 13.

ARistotle writeth, as also Plinie, that we shoulde frame certaine vessels of waxe, hollowe within, so bindyng, or closing theim, that in theim, be founde no hole, or vente, lettyng theim doune into the Sea, fastned in some Nette, or other fitte matter, with long lines, or cordes, whence, (after they there haue béen the space of one whole daie) if wée againe drawe theim, wee shall finde in euerie of theim a certaine quantitie of freshe water, suche, and so good, as in any spring, or fountaine. The reason why the salte water becometh freashe, by the entraunce into these vessels, is in thys sorte geuen vs of Aristotle, who saieth, that the waxe beyng a bodie both full of powres, and swéete, graunteth passage to the most pure and subtill parte of the water, which as it lea­ueth without hys grosse, and saulte substaunce, so pear­sing it sauereth of the waxie nature, swete and pleasant. In truthe if it be so, (I saie againe, if it bee so, for that I neuer yet practised in any sorte, this secrette) it might well serue in sundrie our necessities, whiche commonly betyde vs, in infinite our affaires. How be it, I suppose, that if thys falte water waxe freashe by the onely and sole enteraunce, in to the aboue saide vessels, the saied vessels in like sorte, filled also full with the Sea, shoulde [Page 82] geue vs some small quantitie, or measure of freashe wa­ter, for filled, as is afore saide, why shoulde not the purer parte, passe through these porie vessels, leauyng within, the slimie, or saulte substaunce of the Sea, as beyng cast voyde into the Sea, shoulde receiue there, by contrarie order inwardes, water pure, and immixte, without any droppe at all of the other? The reason seemeth one, as tending both to one ende, vnlesse we should dwell here, on some scrupulous difference, arguing that by the same meane: and by the same facillitie, this freashe water di­stilleth not out, of the full vessell, as on the other side it entereth, into the voyde, and emptie: for that some ap­pearaunce is, of greater force, in goyng out, then is (as some suppose) at the entraunce, or comyng in: how be it, who so curious is, may make easie proofe, both of the one & the other. Farther for their sakes, that please in these experimentes, one other thynge shall I write, in thys place not lesse necessarie. Who so filleth at anye tyme twoo Bottles of one measure, the mouth, & necke, of like length, and widnes, the one with boilyng water, the o­ther all colde, and straigh waies will empte theim, af­ter one sorte, without gile (at one tyme, I meane, and in one instante tegether) shall finde that the colde water will, as well be first out, as also that in fallyng, it assu­redly will yelde a greater brute, or noyse: the boylynge water slidyng, on the other side, slowly and with lesse noyse. The reason is, that the warme water lesse poy­seth then the colde, whiche by heate of the fier, hath loste nowe the greatest quantitie of his grosse vapours: so that when firste the colde water beginneth to streame forthe, that parte that is behinde still, by his weight pu­sheth, and thrusteth on the former, by continuall force, or fight as it were, in suche sorte, that the onely weight firste causeth the colde Bottle to empte, as also by the same meane, it noiseth as is euident, or resoundeth som­thing farther. Whiche aunswere as Aristotle, in this re­specte [Page] geueth, so also learneth he vs, of an other the like practise, which rather by experience, then reason, we see daily. A Shippe saieth he, in the Sea, or in the salte wa­ter, carrieth farre a greater weight, then he dothe in the freashe: for the Sea (addeth he) is a more thicke or gros­ser substaunce, and beareth a charge, or burthen more houge then the other, beyng of a nature in respecte more pure, and subtile. For proofe whereof, experience this learneth vs, that if we cast into a riuer an Egge, imme­diatly it sinketh, and passeth to the bottome, but contra­rie wise, if you throwe hym into the Sea, or salte water he swimmeth, as supported, by a greater force, or violēce.

Of the renoumed and greate Tamberlaine, of the king­domes and countries that he subdued, and finally of his practise, and maner in warre. Chap. 14.

THere hath béen amonge the Grekes, Romaines, the people of Carthage, and others, innitfie, worthy and fa­mous capitaines, which as they were right valiaunt, and fortunate in war: so were they no lesse fortunate, in that some others by writynge com­mended their chiualrie to the posteritie for euer. But in our tyme we haue had one, in no respect inferiour to any of the others, in this one pointe notwithstandyng lesse happie, that no man hath vouchsaued, by hys penne in any sorte to commende him, to the posteritie following. So that I, who moste desired somethynge to speake of hym, haue béen forced together here, and there little péeces, and pamphlets, scarce lendyng you any shewe of his conquirous exploytes, the same also confusely, and without any order. This then, of whom we speake, was that greate and mightie Tamburlaine: who in hys tender [Page 83] yeres was a poore labourer, or husbandman, or (as other some reporte) a common Soldiar, how be it, in the ende he became Lorde, of suche greate kingdomes, and seigno­ries, that he in no pointe was inferiour to that prince of the worlde Alexander: or if he were, he yet came nexte him, of any other, that euer liued. He raigned in the yere of our Lord God, a thousande, three hundred fower score and tenne. Some suppose that he was a Parthian borne, a people lesse honorable, then dread of the Romaines: his farher and mother, were verie poore, and néedie: he not­withstanding was of honest & vertuous conditions, wel fewtred, valiant, healthie, quicke & nimble, sharpe wit­ted also, of ripe, and mature deliberation, and iudgemēt, imaginyng, and deuising, haute and greate enterprises, euen in that his most, and extreame penurie, as though he some times shoulde be a maister of many thinges. He was of a valiant and inuincible corage, so that from his Cradle, and infancie, it seemed he was vowed to Mars and merciall affaires onely. Where vnto he gaue hym selfe, with suche painefull indeuour, that hardlye a man might iudge, whether he were more happie in déede, in aduised cousel, or princely dexteritie. By meane of which his vertues, and others, that we shall hereafter remem­ber, he in shorte tyme acquired such honour, and reputa­tion, as is to be supposed man neuer shall do againe. His first beginning was, as writeth Baptista Fulgotius, that beyng the soonne of a poore manne, kepyng cattle in the filde, liuyng there with other boyes of his age, and con­dition, was chosen in sport by the others for their kyng, and althought they had made in déede, this their election in plaie, he whose spirites were rauished, with greate, and high matters, forst theim to swere to him loialtie in al thinges, obeyng hym as king, wher, or when, it should please hym, in any matter to commaunde theim. After this othe then, in solemne sorte ministred, he charged eache of theim forthwith to sell their troope and cattell, [Page] leauing this seruile and base trade of life, séeking to serue in warre, acceptyng hym for capitaine: whiche in deede they did, beyng quickly assembled of other worke men, and pastours, to the full number, at leaste, of fiue hun­dred: with whom the firste attempte that euer be tooke in hande, was that they robde all suche marchauntes as anie where paste nigh theim, and after he imparted the spoyle so iustlie, that all his companions serued hym, with no lesse faithe then loue, and loyaltie, whiche occa­sioned sundrie others, a newe to seeke, and followe hym. Of whiche newes in the ende, the Kinge of Persia aduer­tised, sent forth vnder the conducte of one, of his capitai­nes, a thousande horses well appointed to apprehende and take hym: at whose commyng, he so well knewe in this matter howe to beare hym, that of his enimie he soone had made hym, his assured frende, and companion: in suche sorte that they ioigned both their companies to­gether, attempting, then before, enterprises much more greate, and more difficill. In the meane tyme a certaine discorde, or breache of amitie grewe, betwixte the Kyng of Persia and his brother, by occasion where of Tambur­laine tooke parte with the Kynges brother, where he so ordered the matter in suche sorte, that he deposed the King, and aduaunced the other. After this, by this newe prince, in recompence of his seruice, he was ordained ge­nerall of the greater parte of his armie, who vnder pre­texte that he woulde conquire, ad subdue, other prouin­ces to the Persians, mustered still, and gathered, more Souldiars at hys pleasure, with whom he so practised, that they easely reuolted like Rebels followyng hym, subduyng their Leage, and Soueraigne. This hauynge nowe deposed, whom he before aduaunced, he crouned hymself Kyng, and Lorde of that countrie. Now moued with compassion, towardes his owne countrie, whiche long tymes had been tributorie, to the Princes of Persia, and to the Sarrazins, did theim to be frée, from all seruice, [Page 84] and exactions, lottyng to theim for Prince him selfe, and none other. After this consideryng with hym selfe, that he presentlie hadde gathered a houge and greate armie, moued priuie mutenies and rebelliōs in other countries, by meanes wherof, in prosis of tyme he conquired Syria, Armenia, Babylon, Mesopotamia, Scythia Asiatica, Al­bania and Media, with others, manie territories, riche also & famous cities. And although we finde written no­thing, of any his warres whatsoeuer, yet is it to be pre­sumed y^t he fought many a bataile in open filde with the ennimie, before he had subdued so many, kingdomes and territories: for as muche as all those that remember of hym anie thyng, commende to vs the haute exploytes, of this moste valiaunte personage, and farther that hee so circumspectly ordered his companie, that in his Campe was neuer knowen, any brawle, or mutenie. He was verie courteous, liberall, doyng honour to all menne, ac­cordynge to their demerites that woulde accompanie, or follow him, feared therefore equally, and loued of the people. He so painefullie, and with suche care instructed his Souldiars, that in an instante alwaies, if it were be­houefull, either by sounde of Trompette, or any other, one, onely signe geuen, euerie man was founde in his charge, or quarter, yea though his armie were sutche, so greate, and so numerous, as neuer besides him selfe, con­ducted anie other. In fewe his Campe resembled one of the best, and richest Cities in the worlde, for all kinde of offices were there founde in order, as also greate heapes of marchauntes to furnishe it with all necessaries. He in no case permitted any robberies, priuie figgyng, force, or violence, but with seueritie and rigour punished, whom soeuer he founde thereof, giltie, or culpable, by meanes where of his Campe, was no worse of all prouisions fur­nished, then the best Citie in the worlde, in time of most safe, and assured securitie. His desire was, that his Sol­diars shoulde euermore glory, in their martiall prowes, [...] [Page] [...] [Page 84] [Page] their vertue, and wisedome onely. He paide them their salerie, and wage, without fraude, he honoured, he prai­sed, he imbrast, and kiste theim, kepyng theim notwith­standyng in awe and subiection. This beyng king nowe, and Emperour, of sundrie Realmes, and Countries in Asia, greate troupes came to him still, out of euery quar­ter, besides these that were in anie respect his subiectes, for the onely fame, of his honour, and vertue. So that his Campe grewe in short tyme to be greater, then euer was that of Darius or Xerxes, for soche as write of hym, reporte that he had, fower hundred thousand horsemen, but of foote men a greater number, by two hundred thou sande more, whiche all he ladde with hym, at the con­queste of Asia the lesse: where of the greate Turke ad­uertised, who then hight Baiaceth, Lorde and Prince of that countrie, but present then in person, at the siege of Constantinople, hauyng a little before subdued sundris prouinces, and partes of Grece, with other territories adiacent, and Tounes there aboute, thence growen to more wealth, and more feared, then any Prince in the world, was neuer the lesse constrained to raise his siege incontinentlie, passyng thence into Asia with all his ar­mie, taking vppe still by the way, as many as was possi­ble, so that as some affirme, he had as many horsemen as had the greate Tamburlaine, with a merueilous num­ber of other Souldiars, bothe olde, and of muche expe­rience, especially by meanes of the continuall warres, which he had still with the christiās. This Baiaceth now like a good, and like an expert Capitaine, seing that he no waie els might resiste, this puissante Emperour, deter­mined to méete hym, and to geue hym present battaile, hauyng merueilous affiance in the approued manhoode, and vertue of his Souldiars. Wherefore marchyng on within fewe daies, they mette eache with other vppon the confines of Armenia, where both of theim orderyng as became good Capitaines their people, beganne in the [Page 85] breake of day, the most cruell, and most terrible battaile that earst was euer harde of, consideryng the nomber on both partes, their experience, & pollicie, with the valiant currage, and prowes of their capitaines. This continued they in fighte euen almoste vntill night, with meruei­lous sloughter on bothe sides, the victorie yet doubtfull, til, in the ende the Turkes beganne to fainte and to flée, more in déede opprest with the multitude, then that thei feared or other wise, the moste parte of theim with ho­nour diyng manfully in the filde: and as one reporteth two hundred thousand were taken prisoners, after the battaile was ended, the resude slaine, and fledde for their better safetie. Whiche Baiaceth, of parte perceiuyng be­fore the ende, how it woulde waie, to courage his people, and to withdrawe theim from flight, resisted in person valianntly the furious rage of the enimie. How be it, he therby gained such, and so many knokes, that as he was in the ende, in déede vnhorste, so was he for lake of res­kewe presented to the greate Tamburlaine, who incon­tinently closed hym vppe, in a Kaege of yron, carriynge hym still with hym, whither soeuer he after wente, pa­sturyng hym with the croomes, that fell from hys table, and with other baddde morselles, as he had béen a dogge: whence assuredly we may learne not so much to affie in riches, or in the pompe of this world: for as muche as he that yesterdaie was Prince and Lorde, of all the worlde almost, is this daie fallen into suche extreame miserie, that he liueth worse then a dogge, fellowe to theim in cōpanie, and that by the meanes of him that was somē tymes a poore Sheaperde or if you rather will, as some reporte, a meane souldiour, who after as we seé aspired to suche honour, that in hys time none was founde that durst, or coulde abide hym: the other that descended of noble race or linage, constrained, to liue an abiecte, in most lothsum, and vile seruitude. This tragidie might suffice, to withdrawe men, from this transitorie pompe, [Page] and honour, acquaintyng theimselues with Heauen and with heauenly thinges onely. Now this greate Tamburlaine, this mightie Prince, and Emperour, ouer ranne all Asia the lesse, to the Turke before subiect, thence tur­ning towards Egypte, conquired also Syria, Phenicia, and Palestina, with all other Cities on their borders, of what side so euer, and besides these Smirna, Antioch, Tripolis, Sebasta, and Damascus. Afterwarde being come, with al his armie into Egypte, the Soudan, and the kyng of Ara­bia, with sundrie other Princes, assembled altogether, and presented hym battaile, but in the ende to their in­specable detrement discomfited, were flaine, and spoiled at the pleasure of the ennimie: by meane whereof the Soudan saued hymself by flight. How be it, Tamburlaine had easely taken from hym all Egypte, hadde it not been, for the greate, and inaccessible, desertes in that country, through whiche to passe with so puisante an armie, was either impossible, or at the leaste verte difficill, not with­standyng he subdued all suche partes of the Countrie as were next hym. Some report of hym, that he then hym helde best contented, when he founde his ennimy moste strong, and best able to resist hym, to thende he might be occasioned, to make proofe of hymself, what he was able to doe, and how muche in his necessitie: that whiche well chaunced hym at the citie of Damascus. For after he had taken the most honourable, and most valiante persona­ges of the citie, the others retired into a certaine Castell or Holde, suche, and so stronge, that all menne accomp­ted it inpregnable, where, neuer the lesse, desirous to growe, to some composition with hym, were vtterly re­fused, no intreatie preuailyng▪ so that in fine, they muste néedes fight it out, or yelde theim to his mercie. And fin­dyng no place, where he by any meanes might assaulte it, builte faste by it an other more high and stronge then that, where he so painfully, and in suche sorte dispatchte it, that the ennimie by no meanes colde or lette or an­noie [Page 86] hym, so that his Forte in the ende or equall, or ra­ther higher then the other, beganne his batterie, suche, and so cruell, that it neuer ceaste daie nor night, vntill at last he had taken it. It is writen of him, that in all his as­saultes, of any castell or citie, he vsually would hang out to be séen of the enimie, an Enseigne white, for the space of one full daie, whiche signified, (as was then to all men well knowen) that if those with in, woulde in that daye yelde theim, he then woulde take theim to mercie, with­out any their losse of life or goods. The seconde daie hee did to bee hanged out an other all redde, lettyng theym thereby againe to vnderstande, that if they then woulde yelde, he onelie then woulde execute Th'officers, Magi­strates, maisters of housholdes, and gouernours, pardo­nyng, and forgeuyng all others whatsoeuer. The thirde daie he euer displaied, the thirde all blacke, signifiynge therby, that he then hadde shutte vp his gates from all compassion and clemencie, in such forte, that whosoeuer were in that daie taken, or in anie other then folowyng, shoulde assuredly die for it, without any respecte, either of man, or woman, little or greate, the Citie to be sackt, and burnt withall to ashes: whence assuredly it can not be saide, but that he was verie cruell, though otherwise adorned, with many rare vertues. But it is to be suppo­sed, that god stirred hym vppe an instrument, to chastice these princes, these proude, and wicked natiōs. For bet­ter proofe whereof Pope Pius, whiche liued in his tyme, or at leaste, eight or tenne yeres after hym, reporteth of hym saiyng, that on a tyme beseigyng, a strong and riche citie, which neither on the first, or second would yelde to him, which only daies, were daies of mercie, as is aboue saide, on the third day neuerthelesse affiyng on hope vn­certaine, to obtaine at his handes some mercie, and par­don, opened their gates, sendyng forth in order towar­des hym, all their wemen, and children in white appa­reled, bearing eche in their handes a branche of Oliue, [Page] criyng with haute voice, humbly requestynge, and de­maundyng pardon, in maner so pitifull, and lamentable to beholde, that besides him none other was but woulde haue accepted their solemne submission. This Tambur­laine, notwithstandyng that beheld theim a farre of, in A barbarus crueltie of Tamburlaine. this order issuyng, so farre then exiled from all kinde of pitie, that he commaunded forthwith, a certaine troope of horsemen to ouer runne, to murther, and kill theym, not leauyng one a liue, of what condition soeuer, and af­ter sackyng the Citie, resed it, euen vnto the verie foun­dations. A certaine Marchaunte of Genua was then in his campe, who had often recourse to him, who also vsed hym in causes familiarly, and who for that this facte see­med verie bloodie, and barbarous, hardned hymselfe to demaunde hym the cause why he vsed theim so cruelly, considering thei yelded themselues, crauing grace, & par­don: to whom he aunswered in most furious wrath, and yre, his face redde and firie, his eyes all flamynge, with burnyng spearckles, as it were blasing out, on euerie side. Thou supposest me to be a man, but thou to muche abbusest me, for none other am I, but the wrathe, and vengeaunce of God, and ruine of the worlde: wherefore aduise thée well, that thou neuer againe presume, to bee founde in any place in my [...]ight, or presence, if thou wilt that I chastice the [...] not, accordyng to thy desert, and thy proude presumption. This Marchaunte with out more then sodenly retired, neither after that, was at any time seen in the campe of Tamburlaine. Those thinges this ac­complished, this greate and mightie Personage hauyng conquired many countries, subdued and done to deathe suudrie Kinges and Princes, no where findyng any resi­staunce in any parte of all Asia, retourned home againe into his countrie, charged with infinite heapes of Gold, and treasure, accōpanied also with the most honourable estates, of al the cūtries subdued by him, which brought with theim in like maner, the greatest parte also of [Page 87] their wealth and substaunce, where he did to be builte a moste famous, & goodly citie, and to be inhabited of those (as we fore saied) that he brought with hym, whiche al­together no lesse honourable then riche, in verie shorte tyme with the healpe of Tamburlaine, framed the most beautifull and moste sumptuous Citie in the worlde, whiche by the multitude of the people, was also meruei­lously inlarged, abundaunt, and full of al kinde of riches. But in the ende this Tamburlaine, though he maintai­ned his estate, in suche aucthoritie and honour, yet as a man in the ende, he paieth, the debte due vnto nature, leauyng behinde hym twoo soonnes, not such as was the father, as afterwarde appeared by many plaine, and eui­dent signes: for as well by their mutuall discorde, eache malicing the other, as also by their insufficiencie, with the lacke of age and experience, they were not able to kéepe, and maintaine the Empire conquired by their fa­ther. For the children of Baiaceth, whom they yet helde as prisoner, aduertised of this their discorde, and dissen­tion, came into Asia with valiaunt courage, and diligen­cie, by the aide of suche people as they founde willing to assiste theim, recoueryng their possessions, and territori­es fore loste, whiche, in maner semblable did they other Princes, whiche Tamburlaine before had also subdued. So that this Empire in prosis of tyme so declined, that in our age there remaineth nowe no remembraunce at all of hym, ne of his posteritie or linage, in what respecte soeuer. How be it, true it is, that Baptista Ignatius, a dili­gent searcher of auncient antiquities, reporteth that he leafte twoo soonnes, Princes and Protectours of all the countries, subdued by hym, reachyng, and extendynge e­uen vnto the Riuer of Euphrates, as al so their successors after theim, euen vntill the tyme of Kinge Vsancasan againste whom the Turke. Mahomet, waiged some tymes bataile. And the Heires of this Vsancasam, as most men surmise, aduaunced theimselues, to the ho­nour, [Page] and name of the first Sophi, whēce now is deriued the empire of Sophi, whiche liueth this daie, as sworne ennimie to the Turke. Whiche how soeuer it be, it is to be supposed, that this historie of Tamburlaine, had it of a­nie been written, woulde haue been a matter worthie both of penne and paper: for that greate exploytes, no doubte were happily atchiued of hym: but as for me I neuer founde more, then I here presently haue writen, neither suppose I that any other thinge, is of anye other man writen, this onely excepted, where on all men ac­corde, that he neuer sawe the backe, or frounyng face of fortune, that he neuer was vanquished, or put to slighte by any, that he neuer tooke matter in hande, that he brought not to the wished effect, and that his corage, and industrie neuer failed hym to bryng it to good ende. By meanes whereof we maie, for iuste cause compare hym with any other whatsoeuer, though renoumed in tymes past. This then that I here geue you, that al haue I bor­rowed of Baptista Fulgotius, Pope Pius, Platina vppon the life of Boniface the ninth, of Mathew Palmier, and of Cambinus a Florentine, writyng the historie, and ex­ploytes of the Turkes.

Of many lakes, and fountaines, the waters of whiche haue sundrie, and straunge proprieties. Chapt. 15.

IN the Chapiter, where we a­boue, some thyng spake in ge­nerall, of the perfection of wa­ters, we promised to intreate of the proprietie, or effecte, of certaine springes, or lakes, in perticuler: of which all, the first shall bée the riuer of Iudea, As­faltida, whiche also was after called the immoueable, or deade sea. Of this water Pli­nie, [Page 88] Columella, and Diodorus Syculus, reporte many thynges, bothe straunge, and meruailous. Firste, that there ingendereth, neither fishe, foule, or any other li­uynge creature, and that nothyng hauyng life, maie there in be drouned, so that if you throwe into it, a man, or any other creature, he by no meanes shall perishe there in, yea, though he be bounde in suche sorte, that he neither swimme, or moue. These thinges are recited by Plinie: and Aristotle to giue some naturall reason for it, Plinie in his 5. booke, and Ar. in the thirde of his Mereo. saieth, that the water of this riuer, is verie salte, grosse, troublesome, and thicke. Cornelius Tacitus addeth also this, an other proprietie, that it neuer moueth, or riseth in any waues, for no winde, what so euer, or greate, or vehemente. These foresaied aucthours affirme, as also Solinus, that at one certaine tyme, there gathereth to­gether in this lake, a straunge kinde of frothe, or slime, whiche is so good, and so strong a morter, that hardly a­ny waighte, or other force dissolueth it. Diodorus Sycu­lus termeth it Bitumen, and Asfalta, so that it semeth to take his denomination, of this riuer Asfaltida. Of other lakes we reade, that ingender the like slime, or morter, as that, that adioigneth so nigh vnto Babilon, with the frothe of whiche, Semiramis did to be built those famous walles of Babilon. Into this water of Iudea, descendeth the sloodde of Iordaine, whose water is moste pure, and excellent: but enteryng into the other, looseth his pristi­nate vertue, by the onely impuritie, and imperfection of the other. It is written, that Domician sent thether of purpose, to be ascertained of the truthe, concernyng this matter, and receiued for aunswere, as is afore saied. Pli­nie remembereth vs of an other in Italie, called Aue [...]a nigh vnto the sea, or goulfe of Bayas: and this lake is of this propertie, or condition, that there passeth no birde, of what kinde so euer he be, ouer it, but immediatly he falleth doune dead into it. The Poete Lucretius, yeldeth this reasō for it, saiyng: that by the meanes of the great [Page] number of trees, that on bothe sides inuiron it, and of parte by meanes of the continuall shadowe, there ascen­deth suche a vapour, so grosse, and so infectious, that im­mediately it stifleth, or impoisoneth the birdes: and far­ther he addeth, that it of parte also procedeth, of certaine obnoxious, and sulfured mines there. Theophrastus, and Plinie, accorde bothe tegether, of a riuer in Iudea called Licos, as also of an other in Ethiopia, of like and sembla­ble nature, hauyng the proprieties of oile, or the like matter, whiche put into a lampe, giue lighte, and burne incontinently. Pomponius Mela, and Solinus, writyng of Ethiopia, affirme, that there is a lake, or riuer, verie swete, pleasante, and cleare, in whiche notwithstanding if any man washe hym self, he issueth thence againe all annointed, as if he came out of a bathe of oile. The sem­blable to this reporteth Vitruuius, saiyng: that there is a certaine floudde in Cilicia, as also nigh vnto Carthage, a well of the same propertie. Solinus, Theophrastus, and Isidorus affirme, that thei haue heard of twoo diuers welles, of the one, of whiche twoo, if a woman fertile, chaunce to drinke, she from that tyme euer after, shall liue sterill, and baron: and contrary wise, if a woman sterill, by happe, drinke of the other, she forthwith beco­meth fruitfull, and beareth children aboundantly. Thei againe remember vs of an other in Arcadia, of whiche who so drinketh, stearueth immediatly. Aristotle in his questions naturall, speaketh of one in Thracia, of like, and semblable effecte, as also of an other, equall to it in Sarmatia. Herodotus hath, whiche Plinie, and Solinus confirme, that the riuer Hypenis, bothe great and wide, descendyng doune from Scithia, is a water right hole­some, and sauourie, into the which, neuer the lesse, after the enteraunce of a little spring, or fountaine, it waxeth so bitter, and so vnsauerie, onely by the saltnesse, or vn­pleasante taste of that welle, that it is vnpossible for any man, in any wise to drinke of it. The saied aucthours a­gaine [Page 89] as also Isidorus remember vs, of twoo other foun­taines, or springes in Boecia, of whiche the one beyng drounke, vtterly taketh from vs our memorie, the other preserueth it, causyng these that there of drinke at any tyme, freshely to call to minde againe, what thei before had, or loste, or forgotten. Of twoo others also, the one mouyng, and prouokyng menne to venerie, the other druonke cooleth, and mortifieth their affections. In Si­cilia there is a fountaine, whiche the inhabitauntes call Aretuza, of which (besides the multitude of fishe therin, as also that it was an offēce, to take, or to eate of theim) a straunge, and thyng incredible, is crediblie reported, whiche is, that within this water, many notable thyn­ges haue been founde, whiche in tymes long before, had been throwne, into the riuer Alfea, whiche is in Achaia, a conntrie of Grece: by meanes whereof thei maintain, and affirme, that the water of this riuer, passeth tho­rowe the entrailes of the yearth, springyng, and risyng againe in the aboue saied fountaine, passyng vnder the sea, betwixte Sicilia, and Achaia. The aucthours that re­porte it, are of suche credite, and learnyng, that thei ea­sily maie harden an other man, to write it againe after them. Seneca affirmeth it, Plinie, and Ponponius Mela, Sen. in the. 3. booke of his naturall que­stions. Pom. M. in his seconde booke Strabo in the. 6 Strabo, and Seruius commentyng on the tenth Eglogue of Virgil. Solinus, and Isidorus haue this of an other foū ­taine, in to whiche, who so putteth his hande (for the affirmation, or negation of any thyng) takyng a corpo­rall othe, if he there proteste any thyng, againste the truth, or veritie, his iyes incontinently will drie vp, and waxe blinde. Plinie recordeth the verie semblable, also of an other riuer, whiche brunte of the hande of a periu­red wretche, whiche reportyng an vntruthe, swore by the saied water, thrustyng his hande into it. Philostra­tus in his seconde booke, of the life of Apollo, saieth that there was a certain riuer, in whiche, who so washte his handes, and feete, beyng in deede a wilfull, and reatch­lesse [Page] periurer, was incontinently couered, with a foule, add lothsome leprosie. Diodorus Siculus hath the like al­so of an other. But if these thynges to any manne, seme lesse worthie of credite, knowe he, that Isidorus a man vertuous, and learned, in the reporte of theim, hath fol­lowed in moste places, the aucthours aboue remembred and writeth also of many others, as of the welle of Ia­cob in Idumea, whiche fower tymes in the yere, chaun­geth his colour, and from three monethes, to three, wa­xeth thicke, and troublesome, it now is blacke, now red, now gréene, and at laste retonrneth to his naturall co­lour againe. Of a riuer also that runneth through the countrie, of the Troglotides, whiche three tymes in the A people in A­frica whiche dwell in caues and eate the fleshe of Ser­pentes. daie, and night, chaungeth his taste, or sauour, to weete, from sweete to bitter, and from bitter to swéete againe. Of an other water also in Iudea, whiche continually in the Saboth daie, is founde to be drie, whiche Plinie assu­reth vs, writyng also of an other fountaine, emong the Garamantes, whiche in the daie, is euermore so swéete, and colde, that it is impossible for any manne to drinke of it, and contrary in the night, is againe so warme, that it burneth his hande, that presumeth to touche it, and hath to name, the fountaine, or welle of the Sunne. Of this fountaine haue writen, as of a thing moste certain, Arrianus, Diodorus, Siculus, Quintus Curtius. in his hi­storie of Alexander, Solinus, and the Poete Lucretius, Lucretius in his sixt booke. who there of hath giuen a Philosophicall, and naturall reason. Besides these, like straunge is the nature of the welle Eleusina, whose water is verie freshe, cleare, and standyng, how be it, if any man plaie on an instrument, swéete, and musicall, by it, so nigh I meane, that the wa­ter maie be supposed to heare it, it forthwith beginneth in suche sorte to swell, that it ouersloweth bothe banke, and border, as though it had some pleasure, or secrete li­kyng in musike: this reporteth Aristotle in his meruai­les of nature, Solinus also, and the old Poete Ennius. Vi­trunius [Page 90] writeth of the riuer Chimera, whose water in taste is verie delectable, and pleasaunte, but partyng in­to twoo troughes, or twoo sundrie chanels, the one con­tinueth swéete still, the other bitter, and vnsauerie, how bée it, it maie bée supposed, that he borroweth this alre­red qualitie, of the soile, or ground onely, through which he passeth, and so that alteration is lesse to be meruailed at: as also it maie bée thought, that these diuers proprie­ties, of these, other waters also, should not so muche amase, and trouble vs, if wee knewe the occasions, and causes, of their effectes. The same ones againe, make yet farther mention, of an other streame, hayung to name Silar, whiche, what so euer is caste into it, conuer­teth it straight into a stone, or stonie substaunce. In Ili­rica there is a welle, whose water is bothe swéete, and pleasaunt, but burneth what so euer is throwne into it, in sort, as if it were a perfecte fire. There is in Epirus an other fountaine, into whiche if ye putte a Torche ligh­ted, it extinguisheth, but if you putte hym in not ligh­ted, he taketh fire thence, and burneth: from noone euer more he ebbeth, as it were, and in the ende waxeth drie, but the night growyng on, he growes againe with suche spede, that at midnight, he is full, and beginneth to ouer run his banckes, or limites. An other fountaine is there also in Persia, of whiche, who so drinketh, loseth inconti­nētly his téeth. There are in Arcadia certaine springes, whiche distill, and droppe out of the sides of sunderie mountaines, whose waters al, are so excessiue cold, that there is no kinde of vessell, be it of golde, siluer, or any o­ther mettall, that is able in any wise, to holde, and kepe theim, but breake them all, with extremitie of coldnes, onely the horne of an asse his foote excepted, whiche cō ­taineth, and kéepeth theim, as if it were any other, com­mon kinde of water. Wée would hardly credite in this place, that there are certaine riuers, bothe greate, and wide, that sodainly passe doune, entering into the boiles [Page] of the yearth, whiche afterwarde brake out againe, in places farre of, and farre distante from thence, if wee had not experience hereof, and suche as maie not bee de­nied, for example of some, Vadiana in Spaine, Tigris in Armenia, whiche springeth in Mesopotamia, Licus in Asia. There are certaine springes also, of freshe water, whiche passyng into the sea, runne wholie vpon the sea, without any commixtion in any sorte with it: of whiche there is one, betwixte Sicilia, and the Isle Enaria, adioy­gnyng vnto Naples. In Egipte, it is euidente, that it rai­neth not at all, but that Nilus ouerflowyng the countrie moisteneth it naturally, whence it giueth her fruite, of all sortes aboundantly. Twoo riuers are there also in Boecia, in the one of whiche, all shepe that are watered, beare onely blacke wolle, and besides that none other, the other contrary, cause theim that drinke thereof, to beare white wolle onely. In Arabia, there is a welle, at whiche (as before) what sheepe so euer water theim, beare there wolle, not as the others, white, or blacke, but redde all. Of all these waters, hauyng suche straūge proprieties, Aristotle disputeth at fulle, and copiously. The riuer Lincestis maketh hym drunke, as sone as a­ny wine, that drinketh of hym. In the Isle of Cea, as recordeth Plinie, there was a fountaiue, of whiche, who so dranke ones, became forthwith stupide, and insense­ble, of no more felyng, or witte, then an Asse. In Thrace there is an other lake, of whom, who so drinketh, or swimmeth in hym, sterueth without more, neuer to be recouered. There is also in Pontus a riuer, in whiche are founde certaine stones, that will burne, whiche also then take on fire, when the winde is euer more grea­test, and by how muche the more, thei be couered in the water, so muche the better, and soner burne thei. Besi­des these, diuers haue written, of diuers other kindes of waters, as of some that heale certaine griefes, or mala­dies, of whiche sorte there is one founde in Italie, called [Page 91] Zize, whiche remedieth, or salueth all hurtes, what so e­uer in the iye: an other in Achaia, of whiche if a woman with childe drinke, she shall be assured, of good, and spée­die deliueraunce. Others also there are, that remedie many other infirmities, as the stone, the leprosie, the fe­uers both tertian, and quartain, of which Theophrastus Plinie, & Vitruuius remēber vs. In Mesopotamia also is founde an other riuer, whose water, if you smell to it, is bothe pleasaunte, and odoriferous. Baptista Fulgotius, in his recollection writeth, that there is also, a welle in Englande, into whiche, if you throwe any kinde of wood it will within the space of one yere, bée conuerted into a stone. He also faithfully confirmeth that, whiche Al­bertus surnamed the greate, in persone experimented, in a certaine well, in high Almaignie: and Albertus wri­teth, that he puttyng his hande into the water, hauyng in it a bough, that part that was vnder the water, chaū ­ged into a stone, the other parte, as before, continuyng that it was. The saied Fulgotius, reporteth yet, another matter as straunge, of a welle also, about whiche if hap­pely you walke, not vtteryng any worde, or voice, at all, the water then continueth, as before, still, and cleare, but if you speake any thyng, be it neuer so softe, or little, it then beginneth to rage, and to trouble, as to behold it, were verie straunge, and meruailous: he notwithstan­dyng, reporteth to haue experimented it in persone, who while he attentiuely behelde it with silence, found it as is aboue said, bothe quiete, and cleare, but when he ones spake, it then began to trouble, as if one, within of pur­pose, with some instrument had laboured it. In Fraūce also is another, equall in coldnes with any of the aboue remembred, and yet often tymes [...]lames of fire, haue been séen to issue out of it. Plinie writeth, that moste men are scrupulous in these matters, and make consci­ence to credite them: how be it assuredly, the secretes of nature, are in maner inscrutable, though in deede, more [Page] euidently séen, in this elemente of water, then in any o­ther thyng. And farther, in the worlde so many thynges are, so straunge, and so meruailous, that we iustly maie repute no thyng (though lesse common) therefore impos­sible: especially these that are certified vs, of menne, of suche credite, as are all those, whom we here haue alled­ged. Besides this, we are truely certified, euen by those that haue séen it, liuyng yet in our tyme, that in one of the Isles of Canaria, called Ferra, beyng an Isle populus, and verie well inhabited, in a certaine place verie nigh the middle, thei haue none other water, then that which distilleth, as is well knowne, moste aboundantly, out of the leaues, or braunches of a certatne trée, at the foote of whiche tree, neither any thyng nigh it, is there to bee founde any spryng, or other water, neuer the lesse this tree continueth alwaies so moiste, that bothe from his braunches, leaues, and boughes, it euer distilleth in suche quantitie, and aboundance, that bothe nighte, and daie, thei fette there, to serue all their necessities, whiche hardly we should haue credited, had wée onely founde it written. Wherefore, let it not seme straunge, or incre­dible to any, that whiche, wée haue here tofore recited: for this elemente of water is very puissaunte, and mer­uailous, whose force, and hidden qualities, are not to all men, so familiar, and well knowen. As concernyng the sea also, it is reported to bée in Winter, more warme then in the Sommer, as againe more salte in Autumne then in other tymes any. Moste true it is also, that in some partes of the sea, to weete, in those that bée farrest of, from the lande, no snowe falleth, at any tyme, what so euer. Of all these thynges, sundrie haue giuen sundrie good reasons, of whiche, the greater parte, attribute it, to th'onely proprietie, or qualitie of the soile, mines, sto­nes, trees, and mettalles, where fountaines haue their sprynges, where riuers, and lakes runne. For better proofe whereof, that it so is in déede, by daiely experience [Page 92] we well are instructed, that vines, and other fruictes, of one, and the same kinde; are more better, and more sa­uery in one soile, then in another, for that some are swete some sharpe and sower, some good and profitable, others againe infectious, and noisome. The aire also it self, then corrupteth, and is pestilente, when it passeth ouer any countrie, lesse holsome, or impoisoned. What meruaile then is it, if the water that washeth, and penetrateth the yearth, stones, mettalles, hearbes, rootes and trees, with infinite suche, and others the semblable, receiue holsome, or lesse holsome proprieties, or natures, be thei neuer so straunge, so rare, or incredible, especially aided also by some influences, of the starres, and Planettes.

Of diuers straunge thinges, whiche happened at the birth and death of our sauiour Christe, recited by sundrie fa­mous, and learned historians, besides these that are recor­ded by the Euangelistes in the scriptures. Chap. 16.

ALthough these thynges, writen by the Euangelistes, whiche happened at the birth, and death of our sauiour, straūge in déede, and very miraculous are of all others moste certaine, and worthy of credite: yet it semeth to me no thyng, or very little from the pur­pose, if we remember here some other thynges, perhaps not lesse meruailous, fine, and considred of, euen of those that haue written them. Paulus Orosius, and Eutropius writyng of Octauian, with whom also accordeth Eusebi­us, saiyng: that at the birthe of our sauiour Christe, into this worlde, there happened to breake vp, euen at that instante, a certaine spryng that ranne with oile, by the space of one daie, in an Inne, or common Tauerne, in the citee of Rome. And it seemeth that this spryng, no thyng els signified, but the commyng of Christ, to wete, of the annointed, by whom, and in whom, all christians [Page] are. The publike Inne, into whiche all men indifferent­ly, and without respecte are receiued, and lodged, signi­fieth our true mother, the holy and true Churche, the greate Inne, or common lodgyng, for all faithfull Chri­stians: out of whiche should passe, and procede incessant­ly, all maner of people vertuous, and louyng God. Eutro­pius to this also adioigneth, that as well in sundrie pla­ces aboute Rome, as in Rome it self, euen in the full, plaine, and cleare daie, was séen a circle, whiche perfect­ly compassed the Sunne rounde about, no lesse bright, or cleare, then the Sunne it self, giuing also as muche light or rather more then it. Paulus Orosius in like sorte re­porteth, that euen at the same tyme, the Senate, and people of Rome to gether, offered to Octauian Augustus, the title of chief prince, or soueraigne lorde, and siegnior whiche he refused in any wise to accept, prognosticating (lesse thinkyng there on) that an other more greater, and more puissante then he was borne, to whom onely, and alone, this title appertained. Commestor in his hi­storie semblablie affirmeth, that the Temple, dedicated by the Romaines, to the goddesse Peace, then felle, and sundred on euery side, or quarter: and farther saith, that at the first erection of this temple; the inhabitantes con­sulted with the Oracle of Apollo, to knowe how long it should continue, and stande, whiche aunswered, vntill a virgine should beare a childe: whiche thei estemed to bée a thyng impossible, and that therefore, their Churche shoulde stande eternally: how bee it, at the deliuerie of the virgine, the mother of our redemer, and prince of heauen, it fell doune, and suered, eche parte from other. Whence also Lucas of Tuy, in the Chronicles of Spain writeth, that he some tymes founde in the aunciente Annaleis, or recordes of that countrie (hauyng by confe­rence, and computation founde out the tyme) that in the very same night, that our Sauiour was borne, there ap­pered in Spaine precisely at midnight, a certaine cloude [Page 93] that in suche sorte gaue light to the countrie, as if it had then been, the middle of the daie, or noone tide. I also re­member that S. Hierome reporteth, that at the same tyme, when the virgine fled into Egipte, with her sonne all the Idolles, and Images of their goddes there, felle doune, and defaste them selues, vpon their aultars, and other places, and that the Oracles, that these goddes, or better to saie, these deuilles, to deceiue the people, gaue foorthe then at tymes, then ceaste, neuer after giuyng them any aunswere, what so euer. This miracle allea­ged in this sorte by sainct Hierome, semeth also to be ap­proued by that famous, and moste excellente, though a Panime, Plutarche, who without any credite that he gaue to these thynges, as also that he knewe not, or how or why they chaunsed, hath written neuer the lesse, a perticuler treatise of the defect, or ende of these Oracles: for euen then in his tyme, whiche was shortly after the passion of Christe, men perceiued that these Oracles be­gan to fainte, and faile: neither allegaeth he, for it in his treatise, any other reason, but that there should be dead, as he supposed, some spirites, whiche he spake, as a man voide, or lesse skilled in the faithe, for that he vnderstode not, that the deuilles, or spirites, were immortall. Not­withstandyng, straunge is it, and worthie of considera­tion, to sée how euidently the deuill shewed hym self, to bée conquered, and subdued, and that after the death of our sauiour, he so remained discomforted, that he neuer again was able, to frame in any suche sort, an aunswer: and that the Gentiles also, not able, in déede to yelde a­ny cause, or reason why, had some féelyng of this default, and surceassyng from his function. By meane whereof Plutarche tooke on hym to write this treatise, in which emong others, in effecte he hath these wordes (of which Eusebius maketh mention, writyng to Theodorus, as of a moste notable, and meruailous matter) I remember that I haue heard saie, saieth he, of Emilian the oratour, [Page] a man prudente and wise, and well knowen to many of you, that his father, on a tyme commyng, by the sea to­wardes Italie, and passyng on a night, by a certaine Isle called Paraxis, euen when all in the Shippe were then still, and quiete, thei heard a greate, and dreadfull voice, whiche srom the Isle called to them, Ataman, Ataman, (suche was the pilotes name of the shippe, an Egiptian borne) & although this voice were ones, and againe vn­derstoode by Ataman, yet was he not so hardie, to frame to it an annswere, vntill the third time, whē he said who is there? what is it that calleth me? what wouldest thou haue? To whō this voice again, more louder thē before, saied: Ataman, my will is, that when thou passest by the goulfe, which hath to name Laguna, that thou there re­member Laguna. to crie out, and certifie the said goulfe, that the greate God Pan is deade. Whiche vnderstoode, all those that were in the shippe, feared, counsailyng the saied pi­lote, to leaue vndooen his charge, neither any thyng to arreste, or staie at the goulfe, especially if the winde would serue them to passe further: but approchyng nigh the place, of whiche this voice, admonished hym, the ship arrested, and the sea waxte calme, not hauyng winde to passe presently any farther: by meanes whereof, thei generally concluded, that Atman should there dooe his legation, or imbacie, whiche the better to doe, he moun­teth vp into the poupe, or hinder parte of the ship, where he crieth as loude, as he could possible, saiyng: I will that ye knowe, that the greate God Pan is deade: whiche woorde, as sone as he ones had vttered: thei heard incon­tinently, suche terrible lamentations, and cries, houling and complainyng, aboue that maie be saied: in suche sort that the sea it self resounded these complaintes, whiche continued moste dolorous, and lamētable a great while: by meanes whereof the Mariners, though meruailously afraied, hauyng the winde good againe, followed their course, & arriuyng at Rome, made rehearsal of this their, [Page 94] aduenture. Whereof the Emperour Tiberius aduerti­sed, and desirous to be certified of the truthe, and none o­ther, founde to conclude, as is aboue rehearsed. Whence it is euident, that the deuilles euery where sorowed the natiuitie of our Sauiour, and redemer Christe, for that he was onely their ruine, and destruction. For by iuste, and true supputation of tyme, we finde that this happe­ned, at the tyme of his Passion, or perhaps, some thyng before, then I meane, whe he banished, and exiled them, out of the worlde. It is to be presupposed, that this great God Pan (accordyng to the immitation of Pan, the God of Shepherdes) whiche thei saied was deade, was some capitaine, and maister deuill, whiche at that tyme loste his Empire, as did also the others. Besides all these Io­sephus writeth, that at the same tyme was heard in the temple of Hierusalem, a voice (though in déede ther was no liuyng creature with in) whiche lamentably cried, and saied thus, let vs goe hence, and leaue this countrie in haste, as who would saie, thei truely knewe, that the tyme of their paine, and persecution was at hande, and that it drewe on faste, euen by the death of hym, that gaue life vnto others. In the Gospell of the Nazarites it is reade, that in the daie of his Passion, that sumptuous gate of their Temple, whiche thei neuer lefte for any coste, to adorne, and beautifie, fell doune to the grounde, and was vtterly defaced. Consider now in that daie, what straunge, and meruailous thynges happened, though the Euangelistes haue paste theim, as thynges lesse worthie memorie. The eclipce also of the Sunne, whiche continued thrée howers, the full space in deede, that Christ was on the crosse, was not naturall, as are the others, whiche by th'onely coniunction of the Sunne and Moone chaunce vs, but was miraculous, and con­trary to the course, and order of nature. Suche therefore as lesse knowe how the Sunne is eclipsed, must vnder­stande, that it onely happeneth, by coniunction of the a­boue [Page] saied bodies, the Mooue passyng, or goyng betwixt the Sunne, and the yearth: neuer the lesse, this eclipse happened, in th'opposition of these planettes, the Moone then full, and hundred and eightie degrées, distant frō the Sūne, in the vnder hemisphere, then at the citée of Hie­rusalem: for proofe whereof, besides the testimonies of infinite good writers, the scriptures them selues, record it manifestly: for certain it is, that the lambe was neuer Sacrificed, but in the .xiiij. of the Moone, whiche Lambe was eaten by Christ, and his disciples, but one daie one­ly before his death, as is commaunded in the .xij. of Exo­dus, in Leuiticus also the xxiij. And the nexte daie follo­wyng, whiche was the daie of vnleauened bread, Christ the Lambe vnspotted, was vnkindly crucified, the Moon then of necessitie in her full, and opposite to the Sunne, whiche then could no more eclipse the Sunne, then any other Planete. It then was to conclude miraculous, and contrary to the order of nature, doen onely by the onmi­potente, and sole power of GOD, whiche depriued the Sunne of light, for that thrée howers space. By occasion whereof, that worthie personage Denis Areopagita, be­yng at y^e time presente at Athens, and beholding in this sorte, the Sunne to be obscured, and knowyng on the o­ther side, as a learned Astrologian, that this eclipse was contrary to the order of natue, saied openly with a loude voice, to bée heard of all menne: either the frame of the worlde shall bée dissolued, either the God of nature pre­sently suffereth. For whiche cause, as one reporteth, the sages of Athens straungely disturbed, did to bee builte incontinently, an aulter, to the God vnknowen, whe­ther afterward saincte Paule arriuyng, learned theim, who was that God vnknowne, and that he was Jesus Christ, God and man, our redemer, whiche then, and at that tyme, suffered for our saluation: by meanes where­of, he conuerted, greate numbers to the faithe. Some neuer the lesse haue doubted, whether this defecte were [Page 95] generall, and vniuersall throughout the worlde, groun­dyng here on, though the Euangelist saieth, that it was synne vpon the whole face of the yearth, that, that was onely, but a phrace, or maner of speache, as muche to saie as in all the countrie there about, of whiche opinion was that learned doctour Origen: but what? Wee sée that in Grece, yea, in Athens it self, this defecte of the Sunne was perceiued of all men, whiche leadeth me to suppose, that it was generall, to bée seen, and considered through out our whole hemisphere, in what place, or where so e­uer the Sunne that tyme appered. Whiche I therefore saie, for that in all the other hemisphere, where it then was night, no man could sée any thyng, no she we then of the Sunne at all there, for at one tyme he onely ligh­teth the halfe worlde, the other he obscureth with his owne proper shadowe. How bee it, the Moone then be­yng in her fulle, not hauyng any other lighte, then that, whiche she taketh or borroweth of the Sunne, and yet then beyng in the hemisphere, whiche is vnder vs, be­came also to bee vehemently eclipsed, and darkened, by th'onely want of the light, and she we of the Sunne. By which meanes, an vniuersall shadow, couered the whole yearth, the Moone, and starres, not able to giue other light, then that whiche thē selues receiue of the Sunne.

Of many places alleaged by sundrie good authors, ma­king mention of Christe, and of his life. Chap. 17.

EFtsones haue I harde the que­stion demaunded, of manie a curious, and learned Clarke, whence it was, or whence it proceaded, that the Gentiles, and Paynimes, so sildome re­membred anie thing of our sa­uiour Christe in all their wri­tinges, of his life, and miracles [Page] so manie in number, published and made common to the worlde by his disciples, for as muche as the saide Paini­mes and Gentiles haue well remembred sundrie other things, which were doen, and chaunsed euen in the same tyme, in many respectes of lesse waight or importance. Where vnto I aunswere, that it lesse true were to af­firme, that these auncient historians haue here of writ­ten nothing, for in infinite places haue thei discoursed of these thinges, of whiche some fewe notes I haue briefly here gathered, for their onely contentation, that neuer were acquainted with these foresaid historiogriphers. In the seconde place also we muste consider, that the faithe and lawe of grace geuen vs by Christe, begun by himself first, and by his disciples, published, and receaued of cer­taine that determined to liue and die therin: other some rebellious, and obstinate, so deepe drouned in sinne, that they made no scruple to refuse it, but to the vtterest of their might pursued, and persecuted it. Besides these the thirde sorte were neuters, that healde the meane, to whom, though this religion seemed iuste and vertuous, yet as well for feare of persecution, and tyrannie, as also for some other worldely considerations, this vertuous profession was also of theim neglected. The worlde then standyng this in thrée opinions deuided, those that pro­fessed Christe did thinges straunge and miraculous, of whom many beare true, and assured witnes, of whiche number are Dionysius Areopagita, Tertulian, Lactan­tius Firmianus, Eusebius, Paulus Orosius, with many o­thers, which long were here to recounte, or remember. These others accursed that persecuted this Churche, as a thing straunge, abhorring from their lawe indeuoured what in theim was, vtterly to abandō it, couering christ his miracles, his life, & his doctrine, for whiche cause thei refuced to write of him at all, or at least they that in any sorte, wrote any thinge of hym, did it to the intente to staine and obscure his glory, of which predicament were [Page 96] these predestinate to damnation, Porphyrius, Iulianus, Vincentius, Celsus, Africanus, Lucianus, with others many, the members of Sathan: against whom most lear­nedly hath written S. Ciprian, Origen, Augustine, and others. The others that for feare, or for consideration of gaine, haue lefte to loue Christe, to learne, and knowe his Gospel, for the same causes haue also, in their kookes leafte to remember of hym: or if at leaste any of theim, haue anie thinge spoken of hym, the same hath been freaghted with skoffes, and lies passing hym ouer, in as fewe as was possible. Yet neuerthelesse, euen as he, that woulde couer a veritie, vnder the shadowe of disguised treatcheries, it eftsones falleth out, by the preuie pro­prietie, and secret nature of the veritie, that he that fai­nest woulde couer it, so euill fauouredly disguiseth, and fardleth the matter, that in the ende it ill sauoureth, the truth, mawgre his bearde, breakyng out moste plaine and euident. Euen so hath it happened, to both these sor­tes, of these afore remembred people: whiche although thei toiled to discredite, and to staine with ignominie, the miracles wrought by our sauiour, and his professed doc­trine, yet came it so to passe, that as often tymes as thei, therof wrote any thing, some thing thei vttered, in suche sorte as was euident, both their dispitefull malice, and puritie of that doctrine. Here colde I remember manie thinges, writen by the Sybilles, but for as much as that, y^t thei wrote, procéeded not of theimselues, but from that spirite of prophicie, whiche God had lente or graunted theim, though they were in déede nothyng better then infidels, I will leaue of theim to speake any thinge, ha­styng to thothers. Our first then and most euident testi­monie, though also with the same not leaste common, is, and shalbe of the most and greatest ennimies of christia­nitie, among others of Iosephus a Iewe both by consan­guinitie, Iosephus in the seconde booke of his antiqui­ties. and nation, as by his life also, and profession: his wordes are these: In this time liued Iesus a wise and [Page] learned man if it be lafull to terme hym a man, for that assuredly he did thinges straunge, and mearuailous, a maister and teacher of those that loued him, and sought the truth, he ioygned vnto him greate nūbers, as wel of Iewes, as Gentiles, this man was christ. And although he afterwardes were accused by men of greate aucthori­tie, fautors I meane, and fauourars of our religion, don to death also, and by the same crucified, he not withstan­ding was neuer yet forsaken of those that before, hadde willingly followed hym, wherfore the thirde daie again after his death, he appeared to theim aliue, according as the Prophetes by diuine inspiration had before spoken and prophicied of hym. And euen in this our time, the do­ctrine, and name of Christians dwelleth yet, and euer shal doe vnto the ende in the worlde. These then are the wordes of Iosephus, whiche wrote of the ruine, and de­struction of Hierusalem, a witnes presente in person, at that subuersion, whiche chaunsed full fortie yeres after the passion of our redemour. Pilate in like sorte whiche gaue sentence of death against him, witnesseth in maner semblable of his meruailous miracles, of whiche by hys letters he certified the Emperour Tyberius, by meanes wherof he consulted with the Senate, to know whether they would admitte Iesus Christe, to be reuerenced, and adored for God, and although they woulde, in no wise there vnto accorde, yet Tyberius of hymself streatly in­hibited, that no man shoulde be so hardie, to touche, or greue a Christian. As concernyng the yearthquake, and darknyng of the Sunne, continuyng the full tyme that Christ was on the Crosse, we haue also good testimonies and assured of Ethnikes. Flegon a gréeke historiogripher, borne in Asia, of whom Swydas especially remembreth, reporteth for a thing almost incredible, that in the forth yere, of the two hundred and tenth Olympiade, whiche by iust accompte was in the eightinth yere of the raigne of Tyberius, at whiche tyme our sauiour suffered, there [Page 97] was a greate Eclipse of the Sunne, suche as earste had neuer been séen, or written of, continuyng from the sixt hower, euen vnto the ninth, and farther during the time of this defect of the Sunne, such and so inspekable, were the yearthequakes in Asia, and Bithinia, that infinite houses fell doune to the grounde. It appeareth farther, that besides this Flégon that in the same time liued, Pli­nie also felte it, and discoursed on the saide matter, for saieth he in the tyme of Themprour Tyberius, greater yearth quakes were then seen, then euer had been be­fore, by meanes of whiche were subuerted twelue fa­mous cities in Asia, with infinite and innumerable o­ther houses, and buildynges: in suche sort that the histo­riogriphers Gentiles, though lesse wéetyng the cause, lefte not yet to write the miracles of Christ. The other miracle of the veale of the Temple that sundred, Iose­phus in like sorte recordeth it faithefully. The cruell murther dooen by Herode, vppon the harmelesse inno­centes, is writen, of on other Iewe, whiche hight Phy­lon, an historian of greate aucthoritie, in his abridgemēt of tyme, where he thus muche reporteth, that Herode did to bee murthered certaine yong infantes, and with them also his owne naturall soonne, for that he heard say that Christ, the king promised to the Iewes, was borne and this man liued in the tyme of Herode the Tetrarche, as him selfe writeth. This history of the innocentes, is of Macrobius also, more fully remembred, a man excel­lentlie learned and of greate antiquitie, who in rehersall of certaine pleasant, and merie conceites of the Empe­rour Octauian (aboute the tyme of the birth, or natiuitie of our sauiour) whiche saied, beyng aduertised of the cru­eltie of Herode, as well towardes hys owne soonne, as also the others, that he rather would be a Hogge in the house of Herode, then his soonne, whiche he saied for that the Iewes did neuer eate any swines fleshe, whiche pre­tie ieste is repeted by Dion in the life of the saide Empe­rour, [Page] so that in fine there were many miracles, written as wel by Iewes, as by Gentiles lesse supposing to haue witnessed them, to haue been doen by Christe, besides in­finite the others reported by Christians. What farther shall I write of the auncient Emperours, and what thei thought of our faith, as what discourtisies they also pra­ctised, against the true professors of Christ, and his truth? The first good Bishoppe or seruaunt of Christ S. Peter, S. Paule also a faithfull minister, were doen to death at the commaundement of the Emperoar Nero, thirtiesix yeres after the death of our redemour, at whiche tyme was the greate persecution of the Churche, of whiche the Gentiles left not to make mentiō, as among others many, these twoo especially, Cornelius Tacitus, and Sue­tonius Tranquillus, whiche liued at that tyme, bothe fa­mous, and honourable. Suetonius in the life of Nero, spe­kyng of certaine his owne ordinaunces, faieth that hee tormented, and afflicted with sundry and greuous puish­mentes, a certaine kinde of people whiche called theim­selues Christians, folloyng a newe faith or religon. And Cornelius T. writyng of the saied Nero, affirmeth, that he chastised and pursued with terrible tormentes, a sort of people, named commonly Christians, the author of whiche name saieth he, was Christ of Hierusalem, the verie same, whiche Pilate gouernour of ludea, did openly to be crucified, by whose death his doctrine grewe more and more, and increased. But consider wee also what some other Gentiles haue written, of honour, and au­thoritie like vnto the others. Plinie the yonger, in one of his Epistles, demaūdeth of the Emperour Traian whose Liuetenāt he was in Asia, how he would that he should punishe the Christians, that were aceused, and brought before hym: and the better to informe his Lorde of what soeuer he founde against them, he among other thinges many reporteth, that these Christians rise ordinarilie, at certaine houres of the night, assembling, and meetyng [Page 98] together, singyng Hymmes, and Songes of praise vnto Iesus Christe, whom they honoured for their God and Messias, and besides this meetyng in congregations to­gether, they made also vowes not to doe annoie, or do­mage to anie, not robbyng or takyng from any manne what so euer, that they would not committe adulterie, that thei neuer woulde false their faith, or promis, not to denie, what soeuer had been lent theim, or committed to their kepyng. And farther the saide Plinie writeth, that they alwaies did feede, or eate together, not holding or possessyng any thyng, as proper or priuate. By these are well knowen, what were euen then, the exercises of the christians, as also for what cause the worlde pursued theim. Those thinges were recorded thus by an idola­trous infidell, sixtie yeres fullie after the Passion of our Lorde and sauiour. Vnto whiche letters the Emperour aunswered, for as muche as thei were accused of no kind of riote, or wrong, he should in no wise afflict, or chastice theim; [...]e yet make any inquisition, what so euer a­gainst theim: not withstandyng, when they shoulde yet be accused before hym, that he then did his pain, to with­drawe theim from that Religion: but if they in no wise would forgo, or leaue it, that he should not for all that, do theim any kinde of violence. How be it, true it is, that this saied Emperour Traian, before this as an infidell, and deceaued by the guile, and fraude of the accusers, pu­nished both, and persecuted, the poore harmlis christians. After succided in th'empire his Nephew Adrian, of whō Aelius Lampridius, an historiogripher, voide of faithe, and idolatrus, writeth that he began first to honour the christians, permitting theim to liue after their loore, and order, and that hym selfe also, with the people reueren­sed Christ, building, and grauntyng theim Temples, for their behoofe, but afterwardes alteryng his good minde and zeale towardes theim, began cruelly again, and odi­ously to persecute theim, abused by the maisters of his [Page] false cerimonies, as by the Bishops also of his false gods, perswadyng with hym, that if he any waie fauoured the Christians, that all the worlde woulde shortly be con­uerted to that lawe, whence a generall rume would fol­lowe to their gods and religion, all whiche is reported by Petrus Crinitus. It is written in the life of Saturninus, that from Seuerinus the Consull, a letter was writen to the said Adrian the'mperor, wherin he certified him, that in Egipt were sundrie christiās, among which some cal­led theimselues Bishops, of which all, no one was found at any tyme idle, but busied still euerie one aboute some exercise, or other, and that there was none, no not the blinde, nor the goutie, but tooke some kinde of paine, and liued by their labour, which all honoured one onely god, whiche also was honoured for God of the Iewes. Wee reade also in the histories of that tyme, that this Empe­rour, this beginnyng, to abuse the Christians, by the in­stigation, as is said, of his high priestes, and bishops, there was a certaine his Ambassadour Serenus Eramyus; an Ethnike borne, as also was he, that wrote to hym, aduer­tising hym that it was no little crueltie, to condescende in suche sorte, to the miserable ruine, and oppression of the Christians, beyng of nothing els accused, but of the obseruation onely of their faith and religion, in no other respecte or blame worthie, or culpable. By meanes of whiche letter, the Emperour, inhibited Minutus Fon­danus then Proconsul in Asia, that he in no wise condem­ned any Christian what so euer, not beyng conuicted of any other crime, but of that onely, of their faithe, and profession.

That menne borne of base condition, should not leaue, by al meanes possible, to attempte to reache, and aspire vnto honour, with certaine examples seruyng to that purpose. Chap. 18.

[Page 99] GEnerallie we sée, that men descending of a noble house, or familie, becom also in tyme berie valiaunt, and honoura­ble, immitatyng the noblesse of their birth, and vertue, of their [...]ncestours: how be it, for that there is no law, nor no rule so certaine, which suffereth o [...] admitteth not some kinde of exception, this also maie be saied, to faile with the others: for some times the father wise, learned, aduised, and honest, hath a soonne idle, ab­iecte, lesse wise and vnprofitable: and yet againe admit that this rule were more certaine, more intallible, and more assured, then in déede it is, yet should not thei, that descende of poore, and meane parentage, leaue to at­tempte, by incessuante paine, and industrie, to aspire to the seate, of vertue, and honour: for that these families, that this daie are reputed for auncient, and noble, haus taken their beginnyng, and spryng of vertue, noblyng their posteritie, and successours with honour. Where­fore, the better to animate men, to asspire to great mat­ters, I will remember the examples of some in perticu­ler, issuyng out of meane, and simple parentage, whiche in the endo, excolled in honour, and vertue. And in the firste place, Viriat a Portugale, so muche renoumed e­mong the historiens, especially Romaines, on whom he eftsones did cruell, and bloodie reuenge. This man was the soonne of a poore Shepherde, and in his youth a [...]ded his father in his charge: but hauyng his harte inclined to matters more high, and of greater importaunce, lefte to keepe Shepe, and other tamed beastes, followyng more busily the chase of the wilde, and sauage, where in he ex­celled in courage all others. After this the Romaines, in­uadyng the Spaniardes, he gathered, and assembled cer­taine his companions, by whose helpe he skirmishte, at tymes, with the enemie, at tymes also againe, for prac­tise with his friendes, where he so valiaunte was, so no­ble, [Page] and couragious, that in fewe daies he had gathe­red an armie sufficiente, with whiche being entered the field, he gaue battaile to the Romaines, in defence of that countrie: whiche warres, or rather enmitie continued fowertene yeres, duryng whiche tyme, he obtained a­gainste theim, sundrie greate, and honourable victories. By meanes whereof, he grewe in honour, and aucthori­tie, dreade, and faired for his prowes continually of his enemie: but in fine, vnkindly by treason was slaine, to the greate discomforte, and sorrowe of all his armie, by whiche he was (as duetie would) moste pompously bu­ried. Arsaces kyng of the Parthians, was of suche base, and simple parentage, that no manne could speake of, or knewe any of pis parentes. Who, after he had withdra­wen hymself, from the subiection, and obedience of Ale­xander, he ordained the first kyngdome, that euer was emong the Parthians, a people, no lesse renoumed, then dread, in déede, of the Romaines. By meanes of whose onely passyng prowes, and valiauncie, all other kynges his successors, for the sole memorie, and reuerence of his name, although thei neuer wer crouned, by inheritance or succession, were called Arsacides, as the Romain Em­perours, tooke also the name of Caesar, for the loue of greate Caesar Octauian Augustus. That excellente capi­taine Agathocles, whiche for his surpassyng wisedome, and mandhoode, was created kyng of Sicilia, and main­tained cruell battaile, againste the people of Carthage, was notwithstandyng, of so meane a familie, that as I remember, his father was a Potter, whence he beyng aduaunced, to the honor of a kyng, did neuer the lesse, as often tymes as he banketted, his table to bée furnished, with vesselles, as well of claie, as also of golde, or siluer, to the intente he still might haue in minde; and remem­ber, the place of his beginnyng, his fathers house, and fa­milie. The example also of Ptolomie, well serueth to this purpose, beyng one of the moste worthiest capitai­nes [Page 100] of Alexander, after whose death, he became kyng of Egipt, and of Siria, suche, and so vertuous, that his succes­sors there would after him be called all Ptolomies. This Ptolomie was the soonne of a gentleman, that highte Lac. the father of Ptolomie. Lac, whiche neuer had better office then that, of commō horse man, in the cāpe of Alexander. Iphicrates an Athe­nian, was in Marciall affaires, very well skilled, he van­quished the Lacedemonians, in plaine, and open battaile and valiauntly withstoode, the impetúositie of Epami­nondas, a capitaine Theban, bothe renoumed, and hono­rable. Thesame he was whom Artaxerxes king of Per­sia, assigned capitaine generall, ouer all his whole armie, when he had to doe, or delt with the Egiptians. Yet know wee neuer the lesse (as is euidently written of hym) that he was the [...]nne, of none other, then of a poore Cobler. I had al moste paste ouer Eumenes, one of the moste worthieste capitaines of Alexander, as well for his valiauntie, as learnyng, and good counsaile: whose life, and famous gestes, are bothe recorded of Plutarche, and Paulus Emilius, who concernyng wealthe and aboū ­dance of riches, though he were lesse gracious, in the [...]ight of Fortune, yet was he in the policies of warre, se­conde to manne, reno [...]ed, and honourable, by his owne onely de [...]es, by no manne aduaunced, but by his onely paine, and trauaile, beyng the sonne of a poore man, and as some deme, a Carter. Emongall other se [...] ­gniories, and honours in the worlde, none was there e­uer, so greate, and so puissaunt, as was that, some tymes the Empire of Rome, whiche was ordered continually, by suche excellent person ages so ripe in vertue, so abso­lute, and perfects, and yet for all that, sundrie haue there attained euen vnto the highest, and soueraigne degrée of gouernment, descendyng of very simple, and of base pa­rentage. Elius Part [...]x Emperour of Rome, was the soonne of a certaine artificer, his graundfather a liber­tine (whiche is to saie, suche as was some tymes a bonde What a Liber­taine [...] [Page] man, but was againe afterward, for some iuste cause in­fraunchiste) that notwithstandyng, for his vertue, and honestie, was assigned by the Romaines, their soue­raigne, and Emperour, and afterward to giue example, to others of lowe condition, he caused the Shoppe, to bée doen about with Marble, curiously cutte, where his fa­ther before hym, wrought, to gette his liuyng. Neither asspired this Elius, issued of base parentage, vnto the Em­pire onely: for Diocletian, that so muche adorned Rome, with his magnificall, and triumphaunte victories, was the soonne of none other, then a common Scribe, or No­tarie, some faie that his father was a booke binder, and hymself a bonde man borne. Valentinian was also crou­ned Emperour, but was the soonne, notwithstandyng of a Roper. The Emperour Probus, had to father a gar­diner. The renoumed Aurelius, whom euery age honou­reth, issued out of so obseure a familie, that the historie­griphers, lesse agrée emong theim selues, of his spryng, and beginnyng. Maximinus also was the soonne of a Smithe, or as others some will, a Carter. Marcus Iulius Lucinus, as also Bonosus, by their prudente policie, go­uerned the saied Empire, of whiche, the firste was an housband mannes soonne of Dacia, the other the soonne of a poore, and stipendarie schoole maister. Of this sorte was there many other Emperours in Rome, whom, all for breuities sake, I leaue to remember, as Mauricius Iustinus, predecessour to Iustinian. Gale [...]s also, in the be­ginnyng a Shepherde. From this haute, and supreme dignitie, let vs descende to the [...]a of Rome, vnto which asspired men, of like condition with the others. As Pope Ihon the twoo and twenteth, whiche was the soonne of a Shoomaker, a Frenche man borne▪ notwithstandyng for his learnyng, and wisedome, elected bishoppe, which increased their rentes, and patrimonie busily. Pope Ni­cholas the fifte, hauyng the name, tofore of Th [...]mas, was the soonne of a poore P [...]. P [...]p [...] ▪ S [...] [...]he fo­werth, [Page 101] first called Frances, by professiō a frier, had to fa­ther a poore sea man, or mariner. I could in this place re­mēber many others, whō al of purpose, I leaue to name for that suche offices, are lesse due to nobilitie of blood, but rather to the learned, & vertues what so euer. Whereof Christ himself hath left vs good exāple: for the first that euer satte in that chaire, whom also Christ himself there placed, was that good, and true pastour S. Peter, which before laboured the seas for his liuyng, a Fisher, whom from thence Christ elected, to bée a fisher of men. Hence descendyng againe vnto kynges, and Princes, the Ro­maines to them chose Tarquinius Priscus for their kyng, the soonne of a straunger, and marchaunte of Corinthe, and that which more was, banished out of his countrie, who neuer the lesse, augmented the confines of his king dome, the number as well of Senatours, as also theim of the order of knighthoode: he appoincted newe estates, bothe for their seruice, and ceremonies to the goddes, so that the people nothyng at all repented theim, to haue chosen them a straunger, for their kyng and soueraigne. Seruius Tullius liued also longe tyme kyng of Rome, he obtained greate victories, and triumphed thrée tymes, reputed notwithstandyng, to bée the soonne of a poore bonde woman, whence he continually held the name of Seruius. The kynges of Lumbardie, if thei were not so aunciente, as the others of Rome, yet were thei in re­specte, no lesse famous, then thei: The thirde of whiche hauyng to name Lamusius, was the sonne of a beggerly, and common strumpette, whiche also beyng deliuered at the same tyme, of twoo other childrē, as a moste wret­ched, and beastly woman, threwe them into a depe, and stinkyng ditche, in whiche also was some kinde of wa­ter: by happe kyng Agelmonde passyng that waie, found this childe almoste drouned in the water, and mouyng hym soughtly, with the ende of his launce (whiche he at that tyme had presente there in hande) to the ende he [...] [Page] [...] [Page 101] [Page] more perfectely might féele what it was, but this childe euen then newely borne, féelyng it self touched, taketh hold of the launce, with one of his handes, not lettyng it to slippe, or slide frō him againe, whiche thing the prince consideryng, all amased at the straunge force, of this yonge, little creature, caused it to bée taken thence, and carefully to bée fostered, and for that the place where he founde it, was called Lama, he did hym thence to bée na­med Lamusius: whiche afterwardes was suche a one, and so fauoured of Fortune, that in the ende, he was crouned kyng of the Lumbardes, who liued there in honour, and his succession after hym, euen vntill the tyme of the vn­fortunate kyng Albouine, when all came to ruine, sub­uersion, and destruction. An other matter like straunge to this, happened in Bohemia, where as one Primislas the soonne of a Plough manne, was then chosen kyng, when he moste busily, was labouryng the soile in the fielde. For at that tyme the Bohemians, not knowyng whom thei might chuse for their kyng, did to passe out a horse vnbridled into the fieldes, lettyng hym to go, whe­ther it best liked him, hauing all determined, with moste assured purpose, to make him their king, before whō this horse arrested, so came it thē to passe, that the horse first staied hym before this Primislas, busied then in turnyng the gleabe, a simple Carter: so beyng forthwith confir­med (as is before) their soueraigne, he ordered hym self, and his kyngdome very wisely. He ordained many good and profitable lawes, he cōpassed the citie of Prage with walles, besides many other thynges, merityng perpetu­all laude, and commendation. The greate Tamburlaine also, whose famous exploites, are of parte aboue remē ­bred, was at the first a Shepherde, as we before rehear­sed. The valiaunte, and vertuous capitaine, father of Frances Sforca, whose succession and posteritie, euen vn­till this our tyme, haue béen Dukes continually of Mil­laine, was borne in a badde village, called Cotignoll, the [Page 102] sonne of a poore, and nedie worke man: but he naturally inclined to Martiall affaires, of a valiaunt harte, & very couragious, left that his fathers simple vocation, folow­yng a troope of soldiars, whiche past through the coūtrie, and in th'ende by continuaunce, and skilfull practise, pro­ued a moste famous, and renoumed capitain. C. Marius a Consull Romaine, issued of simple parentage, borne in the village Arpinum, was neuer the lesse suche, and so Arpinum. politike a capitaine, that all the worlde yet speaketh this daie of his valiauncie: he seuen tymes was chosen Consull in Rome, duryng whiche tyme, he obtained suche, and so greate victories, that he also twise (to his perpetuall honour, and commendation) triumphed. M. T. Cicero, the father, and prince of Latine eloquencie, well skilled also in euery the Sciences, was Consull in Rome, and Proconsul in Asia, and yet was he also borne in a simple cotage, in Arpinum, by birthe, and parentage a very meane, and abiecte Romaine. Ventidius also the soonne of a moste simple, and abiecte personage, was some tymes, by profession a Muletour: but leauyng that vocation, followed the warres of Caesar, by whose fauor he obtained, through his prowes, and vertue, that he shortly was appoincted capitaine of a bande, and after that againe vnder him, generall of the whole armie, and from thence was called to the honour of a bishoppe, and in fine, from thence mounted, to the estate of a Consull: who wagyng battaile with the Parthians, triumphant­ly conquered them, and was the first that euer apparan­tly, and throughly quailed their courages. It should also be long, in this place to remember, all those that issuyng from obscure race, or parentage, haue notwithstandyng, by their excellencie in learning, béen aduaūced to greate estimation, and honour. Virgill was the soonne of none other, then a Potter, yet aspired he to be called, the beste Poete emong the Latines. Horace in myne opinion, ex­celled in poetrie, no Prince of birthe, but muche like vn­to [Page] the others. Eustatius, and Pāpinus, were the soonnes of twoo, that had been bondinen, but bothe manumit­ted. Theophrastus the Philosopher, had to father a badde Tailer, or Bodger. Menedemus also, to whom for his singuler learnyng, the Athenians erected a sumptuous Image, was the sonne of a poore artificer. Besides these we reade of infinite others, whom all I passe, as a thing moste assured, and euidente. By these examples, it now thus lieth manifeste, that of what estate so euer, or con­dition manne be borne, he maie if he will, attaine some tyme to honor, so that he walke still, in the pathe of ver­tue, whiche onely is acquired by incessaunte paine, and diligencie, with a finall consideration of heauen, our wi­shed citie, for who so other wise dooeth, if he in deede mighte possiblie, conquere the whole, the wide, and the waste worlde, what aduauntage should he haue, for the same, to loose the soule, after this life transitorie?

Of the opinion that the olde Romaines, and other aun­cient countries had of fortune, and how they plast her in the number of their Gods: in what forme or figure they also depainted her: and finally that there is no fortune at all among the Christians, attributyng the cause of all thinges vnto God. Chap. 19.

FOR as muche as we haue some thing writtē of the instabilitie of the world, and that by sundrie examples, of sun­dry worthy, and famous personages (that which euery of them attributed falsly vnto fortune) reason would now that we also in this place speake some what, of that, whiche the Gentiles, and Heathens haue immagined of this vanitie, in fine concludyng, as is our promis with the Christians. Among others many, and shamefull errors, which the olde sages, and wise philoso­phers, [Page 103] haue built vppon mans onely, and sole obserua­tion, not feeling at all of that true, and heauenly wisedo­me, this was the chéefe and principall occasion, for that not vnderstandyng the causes, whence these effectes pro­ceaded, as also not why they were, or who ordained theim, sundrie of theim termed theim the verie workes of fortune, as all soodden aduentures, thinges I meane some times lesse desired, or thought on: neither haue thei yet staied there, but fortune not beyng any other thinge, then a plaine imagination, voide as well of al quantitie, as of substaunce or qualitie, haue déemed her to bee some celestiall or diuine nature, some mistris of much might, and perticuler Goddesse, vnto whom they attributed what so chaūsed in mans life, were it, without respect, in thinges prosperous or aduersitie. They supposed her to gouerne, or to holde in hande the bridle, of what so hap­pened to vs ether fortunate, or contrarie, and so is this follie now growen to this point, that Virgill feareth not Virgill in the eight of his Eneid. to name her, omnipotent, and almightie: and Cicero in his offices blustreth out in this sorte. Who is he that fée­leth not the arme of fortune to be right strōg, and migh­tie, of equall powre, and force, both in good and euell: for if she vouchsafe to assiste vs, with her prosperous winde, then mount we on high to the toppe of our desires: but if it contrarie, then liue we afflicted in miserable extremi­tie. Salust a learned, and eloquent historiogripher, saieth that fortune is maistris and lady ouer all thinges. With theim also accordeth Iuuenal in these wordes: if fortune will, of a simple aduocate, thou shalt be made a Consull: if the same againe, so please, from the estate of a Consull, thou shalt fall doune to that, of a poore and néedy aduocat, in suche sorte that they attributed all puissance vnto for­tune. And yet merueilous is it to sée, how that beyng of this opiniō, thei so commonly and vnfrendly blasphemed still against her, terming her by names, and Epithitons, vnkinde exilyng far frō al reuerence, far also from al ho­nour. [Page] Plinie saieth, that through out the whole world, in all places, and at all houres, and by all men of what de­gree so euer, onely fortune, & she alone is called on, she is desired, she is accused, she is pursued with enmitie, and malice, on her alone all men thinke, she onely is praised, she onely is blamed, she onely is charged with iniuries and reproches, she onely is honoured, she onely estemed, she onely is reputed for vncertaine, and mutable, of ma­ny she is accōpted blinde, and instable, inconstant, fickle still chaungyng, and variable, and commonly to the lesse worthy very large & fauourable. The causes to her we attribute, of our expenses, and receptes, and in all oure accomptes, or like busines to be doen, she holdeth still the one side, and the other of our booke: in such sorte that we be of condition so seruile, that this monster of vs, is ado­red for a God, and so by this meane would God to be vn­certaine. Hetherto Plinie. Our ancestours framed to her sundry kindes of Images I meane of straunge and di­uers figures, accordyng to the diuersitie of effectes, that they imagined to be in her. When they would attribu­te to her the cause of anie victory, they depainted her in valiaunt shape, fearce, stoute, and manly, hauyng a tem­ple perticularlie dedicated vnto mightie fortune, whiche (as supposeth Liuie) was builte by the Consul Camillus, with the praie, and spoiles he gotte at the ouerthrowe of the Hetruscians: where in prosis of time afterwardes, it also was ordeined, that her feast should there be celebra­ted, the fiue and twenteth continually of Iune, of parte for that Hasdrubal was on that daie vanquished by the Romaines, as also the same daie Massinissa their frende conquired in like sort kyng Syphax of Numidia. Besides this an other Temple was dedicated to her by the Ro­maines, twoo little miles, or there aboute from Rome, where she was purtraied in shape like a womā, for that in that same place Coriolanus comyng in armes against his countrie, was wonne by the humble sute, and in­treatie [Page 104] of his mother, so that in fine hee returned, and perdoned the Citie, whiche of purpose he came to sacke, to burne, and to destroie. And in this shape of a woman, purtraied there in an Image, some accursed sprite or de­uill, by gile streight entered, whiche often tymes thence spake, reputed for an oracle. The thirde temple also had thei dedicated to ill fortune: at whiche tyme thei so blin­ded were in that their fonde deuotion; that they suppo­sed all thinges should prosperously succéede with hym, that busily adored, or reuerenced this fortune, but vnto hym that sacrificed not, ne appeased her by offerynges, all thynges should goe amisse, where he so theim attem­pted. And of all these abuses the deuell hymself was au­ther, to that intent onely thei should repose their whole hope, and affiaunce still in him: as happened some times, for proofe therof to Galba, who for that he had taken a­waie, a coller of Golde, from this Image of Fortune, to dedicate the same, or offer it to Venus, as is reported in sundrie good histories, fortune the saied night immedi­atly then folowyng, appeared vnto hym, with dreedfull wordes, minasing, wherof he also died or many daies ex­pired. The vanitie of this people was suche then, and so aucthorised, that they yet had also an other Image of for­tune, semely bearded, imaginyng all those, that had her in especiall adoration, shoulde haue verie faire beardes, well coloured, and well growen: but those that disdained her, or none at all, or the contrarie. All these thinges did they for diuersitie of respectes, and considerations in her: and withall to signifie her omnipotēcie, or power, which they déemed all she had, purtraiyng her in sundrie, and diuers sortes a goddesse. The philosopher Cebes, depain­ted her in the shape, or figure of a woman, but as furious with al, blinde and with out féeling, mounted on a roūde stone, denotyng her instabilitie. Vupal was the firste in Gréece, that framed any shape or purtraite, of fortune, in the toune of Smirna; which he depainted with a veale [Page] vpon her head, hauing in her hande a horne of abūdance. The Scithians purtraied her a woman without feete, hauyng not withstandyng both handes, and winges. O­thers some fashioned her, with the stearne of a shippe in one hande, as also with the foresaied horne of abundance in the other: thence inferring that shee had dominiō ouer all, disposing all thinges, throughout the worlde as was to her roiall maiestie best séemyng. Some others againe of fine, and brittle glasse, because she was so fickle, with out all holde or staie. Others also depainted her turnyng of a wheele, on the highest parte of which, some present­ly were placed, some also were climbyng, as thoug they would get vp, some also fallyng into ruine, and dispaire. One also resembleth her, not vnaptly to a Commedie, in whiche some enter at tymes, with countenance, of kinges, and greate Personages, and streight againe chaungyng their habite, or apparell, put on the faces, or countenaunces of bondmenne, for that in this life, wée haue none other suretie, to daie to liue in pompe, to mo­rowe in rācke beggerie. Socrates compared her to a com­mon place, or theater without order, where commonly it happened, the worthiest in déede, to be eftsones worst placed. Others some againe, purtraied her all blinde: and to this purpose Apuleus, hath these woordes in his golden Asse. For iust cause did our elders, depainte For­tune blind, for continually she giueth, to the lesse vertu­ous, and vnhoneste, neuer for his demerites, preferryng any persone, voide of all election, or distinction of menne for vertue, aduauncyng the ribaulde, and the gracelesse tretcherer, whom if she had iyes to beholde, or to consi­der, she then would flie in haste, from these her accursed dearlynges. Infinite is the number of aucthorities, that might be alleaged, concernyng the names, or titles, that haue béen of many assigned vnto Fortune. Valerius, and Claudian, letted not to call her dispitefull, and enuious: Ouidius in fastis, right mightie and puissaunte, but in his [Page 105] Epistles, accursed, and dispitefull. Iuuenall in his Satires froward, and peruerse. Lucian traiterous, and periured. Siluius Italicus, false, and subtile. Virgill in one place na­meth her omnipotēt, and almightie, but in others again inconstaunte, vnfaithfull, and disloiall. Cicero of whom we also aboue some thing remembred, who also then ac­coumpted her, a Princes moste of might, and guide also to them that would, or did liue iustly, saieth that nothing is so contrary to reason, and to constancie, as is thesame Fortune. And yet for all this, the vanitie of the auncient Romaines, was suche, and so greate, that thei stil adored her, whom thei knewe to bee blinde, falce, instable, and inconstaunte, dedicatyng to thesame, bothe sumptuous, and costly Temples, vowyng theim selues, so busily, to these superstitions, that the Emperours theim selues, had euermore the Image of Fortune, in their sleapyng chambers. But when any of theim died, the same was then transported into the chamber of his successor. The firste that framed a Temple, to Fortune in Rome, was Seruius Tullius, as recordeth Liue, the sixte kyng by or­der; and iuste accoumpte of the Romaines: though Plu­tarche in his booke of the fortune of the Romaines, af­firme that it was Marcius the fowerth kyng there, whi­che framed as is euidente, a Temple to virill Fortune. Seruius notwithstandyng, gaue Fortune all these na­mes, to witte, of valiaunte Fortune, little Fortune, prosperous Fortune, aduerse Fortune, triumphaunte Fortune, with others more, suche, to these the like, and semblable, to euery of whiche, he dedicateth a parte, a riche, a faire and asumptuous temple. The first of virile or rather valiaunte Fortune, stoode nigh vnto Tyber, where all yonge maidens, that were of age mariagable, came to offer their presentes, with all reuerence, and deuotion: in whiche Temple thei also did of all their ap­parell, all naked, saue their smocke, before this Idoll of Fortune, discoueryng their me heames, and eche their [Page] deformities, if thei had any priuie imperfection, imma­ginyng that this Idoll, would assuredly conceale it, and so for theim woorke, by some secrete vertue, that those, thaut should marrie theim, should neuer at all perceiue it, that whiche Ouide reporteth in his Fastis. And as this Empire grewe still, to be more greate, and puissaunte, so grewe this fonde deuotion, throughout emong the Romaines, erectyng to her Temples, accordyng to the difference, or diuersitie of her names: and this not one­ly in Rome, or other tounes aboute it, but in euery the partes, what so euer, of all Italie. In fine, then must we thinke, that all these vanities, with many others the semblable, whiche maie in this place bée remembred, to this purpose, was a plain illusion, and deception of men, walkyng in darkenesse, affiyng, and trustyng in their owne proper wisedome. For what so euer is, dwellyng in this worlde, in heauen I meane, in yearth, or els be­lowe in hell, thei still are, and procede, from the inscru­table prouidence, and wisedome of GOD: neither is it Fortune, chaunce, or aduenture, for that all in him haue cause of their beyng, by hym thei also holde their course, and eke their order. And againe, though many of vs bee founde, of so grosse a féelyng, or vnderstandyng, that wee either hardly, or not at all perceiue, the increase, or suc­cesse of thynges, not to be of Fortune, but that what so euer is, or any waie multiplieth, the same to issue, and procede from the principall, firste, and chief cause God, maker, creatour, and gouernour of all, whiche for an as­sured veritie, we muste acknowledge, and imbrace, that would, or doe desire, to be numbred for Christians. Lact. Firmianus letteth not to laugh at, or deride those men, whiche attribute the aduentures of the worlde, to For­tune. S. Augustine in his retractations, repenteth hym of his errour, that he followyng the common phrace, or wonted maner in speache, did attribute the good happe of man, in like sorte also to Fortune, highly cōmendyng [Page 106] in the saied place kyng Dauid, for that he ascribed euery his tribulations, to the inscrutable, and secrete iudge­mentes of God onely. This then muste we beleue, that what so euer is, or any where hath his beyng, that the same bothe is, and proceadeth still from God. Farther also, besides that sundrie our elders, had some feelyng in this matter. Saluste also sawe it, and boldly therefore pronounced, that eche man was the firste, and principall cause of his fortune, and in his proheme, of his warre of Iugurthe, saieth: that the slothfull, and negligent person, complaineth still of Fortune, but without any iuste cause, or reason. Iuuenal more plainly in his tenth Satire affirmeth that where aduice is, there Fortune still exi­leth, though wée repute her for a goddesse, and lodge her in the heauens. Other Philosophers were there, whiche though thei also affirmed, that Fortune of her self, could in deede doe nothyng, beleued it notwithstandyng, that she was an instrument, or aide, to the diuine prouidence, as if God should stande in nede of some other, to assiste hym: whiche is no lesse vaine, then the opinions aboue rehearsed, and also others some, that in this place might be remembred, whiche I all leaue, as also to be tedious, onely passyng in fewe, there by yet to admonishe the ignoraunte, and simple Christian what so euer, that he forsake his fonde, and foolishe custome, to gréeue, or to mislike at any tyme with Fortune, when any thing be­tideth hym, contrary to his expectation. For in fine, this must we knowe, that God disposeth mannes affaires a­lone, to whom, and to none other, in euery our necessi­ties, we muste appeale, and crie, for his assistaunt grace and succour.

That sundrie beastes, by some priuie naturall instinct, haue foreknowleage of thynges to come: as also of many countries, by the onely force of little wormes, brought to be desolate, and forsaken. Chap. 20.

[Page] NOt onely the naturall instincte of sundrie creatures, brute, and voide of reason, might suffice to learne vs, the inwarde proprie­ties of thinges infinite, as how, and in what sorte, thei mighte please, and profite vs, as in the vse, or practise of Phisicke, or o­therwise: but also a noumber of them, birdes, and foules I meane, as well as any other, haue some priuie feelyng, of euery the chaunge, and alte­ration of weather, as when we shall haue raine, winde, pleasaunt tymes, or tempestes, instructyng here in man as if he sawe it presently. As then wée sée that Shepe, prognosticate of raine, when moste busily thei disporte, in skippyng to and fro. The semblable is perceiued most plainly in the bullocke, especially when he licketh direc­tly againste the heare, liftyng his snoute a lofte into the aire, bellowyng, and breathyng eftsones on the ground, féedyng with the same more busily, then is his wont, or maner. The yeawe when she diggeth the grounde with her foote: as also when the goates couet nighest, to slepe together: when also the antes, walke thickest in a ranke in greater heapes also, then is their vsuall maner, run­nyng eche on other, as troubled, or amased, these all bee markes assured of moisture, raine, and weather. When Lyons leaue their wonted ranges, and soiles, and séeke a newe to preie in other countries, then bee you well as­sured, of greate drieth that yere followyng. Elian recor­deth, that the goates of Libia, knowe certainly, when firste the Caniculer daies begin, and by euident demon­strations, bothe féele, and perceiue, when it will in dede, or likely is to raine. When Woulfes drawe in troopes towardes houses, and villages, and come nigher into the sight of men, then is their common wonte, an infallible rule is it, of a tempest shortly followyng. Fishes also no [Page 107] lesse straungely prognosticate, and diuine, of euery these chaunges, and mutations of tymes. When the Dolphi­nes leape, very busily in the Sea, discoueryng theim sel­ues, by mounting aboue the water, then greate windes shall followe, especially from that parte, whence thei seme to come: but contrary, when thei trouble the wa­ter, beatyng them selues there in, a more certaine signe then that, can none be of faire weather. When the frog crooketh more, and more loude then is her wonte, she fore learneth vs of raine, and of tempestious weather. Neither are birdes exempted from this priuileage, of whiche as muche, or more, maie wée write to this pur­pose, then of all other beastes, of what sort so euer. The foules of the sea, when thei refuse the deapth, and hasten to the shore, denote some stormie blaste, and sodaine chaunge of weather. If the Cranes flie in the aire with out any brute, or noise, then promes thei a calme: but if thei crie, and slie in heapes disordered, then be ye well assured, thei promes you the cōtrary. When the crowe flieth frō the maine lande, to the sea, she there by as wel prognosticateth, some chaunge of weather, and raine, as also when she plaineth with mournfull noise, and crie. If the shriche Oule, houle muche, in any storme tempestu­ous, it denoteth some presente chaunge vnto the bet­ter: but if in a calme she syng, besides her wonted ma­ner, it noteth againe, as on the other side, some spedy al­teration. Plutarche writeth, that when the Crowe syn­geth with a rawe, and horse voice, not lettyng to beate her self busily with her winges, she fore learneth vs of winde, and raine in aboundance. The same also is euidēt vnto vs, by the saied birde againe, as when the Sunne is fallyng in the poincte of the Weste, if he skippe, and syng, mountyng sodainly into the aire, streight fallyng doune againe, as if he scarce could flie, beginnyng then again his plaie, euen as before, threatnyng as we might saie, some blusteryng storme, or tempeste. Greate troo­pes [Page] againe of white birdes, ordinarilie assēble, and mete in heapes together, immediatly before some greate chaunge, or alteration of weather. When the Cocke, the Capon, with euery other kinde of Pultrie, beate eft­sones their winges, aduaunce theim selues, and syng, as also reioisyng in outward shewe, and apperance, it is as moste suppose, a true presage, or signe of present winde, and weather. When the Larke syngeth very earely in the mornyng, whē also the Ducke doeth washe, or bath her self, beakyng, trimmyng, and orderyng her feathers, it euidently denoteth excesse of winde, and raine. When the Swallowe flieth so nigh vnto the water, that a man would thinke, she still would touche, or strike it, a pre­sage no lesse sure, of raine, is this then the others. Elian writeth, that the Snite hath full, and perfecte felyng, of th'increase aswell, as decrease of the Moone. But I feare I greue the reader, with these fore paste exāples: wher­fore I now will speake, of certaine beastes, whiche haue forced men to leaue, and forgoe, their countrie, the same all not greate, and mightie, but some also small, and foi­ble. And to this purpose Elian recordeth, that in certaine partes of Italie, the rootes of trées, and hearbes, were in suche sorte by Rattes destroied, that the inhabitantes in fine (though thei did their paine to kill theim) were not­withstandyng faine, through penurie to foregoe, and to forsake their countrie. Marcus Varro reporteth, that there was a greate toune in Spaine, situate, or standing in a sandie soile, whiche was by Conies, in suche sort vn­dermined, that in th'ende it suncke, & came to extreame ruine. Neither onely haue these thynges happened, in wide, and open countries, but also in Islandes inuironed with the sea, where bothe Rattes, & Mice, haue in suche aboundance swarmed, that thei haue forste the inhabi­tantes to leaue their place, & dwelling: for proofe where­of, one of the Isles Ciclades, called Gyare, was by the onely force, of these foresaid vermaine, left voide of man [Page 108] destitute, and inhabitable. Thesaied aucthours again re­porte, that there was also in Fraunce, a famous toune, whiche by the onely multitude of Todes, and Frogges there, was also by the inhabitauntes, lefte, and for­saken. The semblable chaunsed, as is euident, in Africa, by the onely malice of Locustes, and Grashoppers. The­ophrastus The Palmer is alitte worme lōg and rough hauyng manie legges, and in laune may bee called bruchus, or campe [...], or multipeda. remembreth of an other countrie, which was by Palmers destroied, and forsaken. An other Prouince was there also in Libia, very fruitfull, fertile, and aboū ­dant, from whiche the inhabitantes were chaste, by the furious rage of Lions: how bée it, as it was no meruaile, so neither was it shame, for man to leaue his countrie, by the malice of this beaste. But the greate weakenes, and imbecillitie of manne, is sufficiently seen, in that whiche Plinie reporteth, of a certaine Prouince, vpon the limites of Ethiopia, where as Antes, Scorpions, and other small vermaine, did to exile thence all the in­habitantes. The people of Megaris in Grece, were dri­uen by Bées onely, to leaue, and flie their citie: as in like sorte, by the Waspe, some times also the Ephesians. An­tenor writyng also of the Isle of Crete (as from him reporteth it Elian againe) saieth that a certaine multitude of Bées, chaste out of a greate citie, all the inhabitantes thereof, vsyng their houses, in steede of Buttes, or Hiues. Many suche o­thers straunge, and rare matters, are redde, and recorded in olde, and aunci­ente histo­ries.

How profitable a thing the inuention of letters was, who firste founde or inuented theim, as also how the Hebrue Characters signifie some thyng of theim selues, that whiche is incident to no other kinde of letters, of what sorte or kinde so euer. Chap. 1.

IF wée accompte those worthy of greate thankes, and praises, that haue by studie founde out, and inuented the artes liberal, and mechanical, those also that haue left vs diuers other thin­ges, and doctrines, as well ap­pertainyng to the comfort, and consolation of the soule, as also to the vse, and exercise of the bodie. Howe muche then more stande we bounde vnto those, that first of all haue geuen vs the vse of letters, whiche onely preserue, and kéepe, all other inuentions: for without theim nothyng maie be reserued to the posteritie, no deuice whatsoeuer canne liue, or remaine: besides that, that by letters also, man continueth in euerie succession as immortall for euer. By theim what so was doen a thousande yeres hence is in suche sorte offered, and presented vnto vs, as if betwixt vs, and theim no time at all had passed. By thē man attaineth to all discipline, and sciences, by theym man in these daies perfectly acquainteth hymselfe, with that, whiche others before hym well knewe, and were learned in, as by the same againe, what so euer man, in this present age inuenteth, is preserued, and laide vppe for the posteritie followyng. By theim is fully sien, and [Page 109] perfectly represented, what so at any time hath in anie sorte been doen, in suche assured wise, and in suche ample maner, that it might seeme alwaies to haue continued still in doyng, whiche neuer had been possible, but by the onely meane, and commodetie of letters. Nether Plato, neither Aristotle, neither infinite other philosophers had helde still the reputation, whiche their learnyng meri­ted. To conclude it canne none otherwise be saide, but that the moste worthie, and moste excellent inuention, that euer was by man thought on, is that same, of the first findyng of letters, whiche who so woulde hardely credite, let hym chiefly consider of those thinges that bee written, whiche all should as well be vtterly loaste, and forlorne, as also againe that no newe thing might be re­serued to the posteritie. Sith then by letters we reape, suche, and so greate commodities, it were reason wee speake some thing, of their firste aucthonr or inuentour. How be it, it is laborous to searche here in a troth, the di­uersities of opinions so differēt, and so many. The Gen­tiles in this case disagrée with the Christians, the Chri­stians againe among theim selues. Plinie, touching thys Plinie in his seuenth boke, different, remembreth sundrie opinions, and amonge o­thers addeth his aduice, whiche in my iudgemente hath more shew of troth then any other. First he saieth they were founde out by the Assirians, in Assiria, though o­thers some attribute it, to Mercurie in Egipte. Some a­gaine affirme, that the Pelagians first brought theym in­uented by theim, in to Italie: and that they were againe transported into Grece by the Phenicians, with Cad­mus there capitaine, whiche onely then knewe sixtene, and no more, and that after in the warre of Troie, Pala­medes vnto the firste, adioyned other fower: but Plinie after that he had alleaged the opinions of many, he con­cludeth, that in his opinion, letters were euen from the beginnyng eternall, to wéete, that thei beganne, euen at the first, with the worlde. That the firste knowledge of [Page] letters, neuer the lesse came, by the Pheniciens in to Grece, Herodotus, with others many plainly affirme it: the Egiptians notwithstandyng vaunte theimselues as Herodotus. wel of the first inuention of letters, as of the artes. Dio­dorus Siculus attributeth it, as is fore saide to Mercurie, how be it the same Diodorus Siculus in his fowerth boke Diodorus. Sic. saieth, that some imagen that the Ethiopians, both firste had, and knewe this excellent vse of letters, and that the Egiptians, in trueth, borrowed this skille afterwarde of theim, so that, of these writers we can not gather the as­sured truth, which we so muche desire. Concernyng this matter, yet are there others, Iewes a greate many, as wel as also Christians, which attribute this first inuen­tion only vnto Moyses, who was before any the letters, or writynges of the Gentiles, for that Cadmus of whom we fore spake, whom we also saide to haue brought the firste letters into Grece, was in the tyme of Othoniel, duke, and Capitaine of Israel, whiche liued fortie and se­uen yeres, after the written lawe was geuē vnto Moy­ses. These that are of this opinion, amonge whiche wee finde Eupolemus, and Artabanus, heathen historiogri­phers, affirme that the Egiptians first learned there let­ters of Moyses, and that thei afterwarde imperted of their knowledge to the Phenicians, whence after againe Cadmus, past with them into Grece. Artabanus noteth, that this Mercurie whiche all agrée on, to haue made the first profession of letters in Egipte, was Moyses himself called of the Egiptians Mercurie. Philon, an Hebrue, a man of greate aucthoritie, saieth that the inuention of letters was yet againe more auncient, who saieth that Adā was the first authour of theim, & in deede thei either were inuented by Adam, or by his children, or by them at the leaste of the first age before the generall fludde, or inundation preserued by Noe, and his successours euen vntill the tyme of Abraham, and from hym againe vntil Moyses. And thus is the iudgement, or opinion of Sainct [Page 106] Augustine. Whiche is verified by the aucthoritie of Iose­phus saiyng, that the nephewes of Adam, sones of Seth, S. Augustine in his eightinth booke, de ciui­tate dei. Iosephus in his first booke of his aniquities. aduaunced or erected two sumptuous pillers, the one of stone, the other of claie, in whiche they wrote, or ingra­ned all the sciences: affirmyng that himselfe sawe one of theim in Syria. We finde also that S. Iude the Appo­stle, alleageth in a certaine Epistle of his, the booke of E­noch, whiche also liued, before the fludde. So that wee must not doubt, but that Adam, and his children, whiche were so wise, whiche also had experience of so many thinges, were also they, that firste founde out the vse of let­ters, and that Noe which afterward was both lettered, and learned, carefully preserued theim in his Arke with hym: howe be it after that, in the confusion of tongues, whiche happened at the erection of the Tower of Babi­lon, it may be that the greatest parte of the worlde loste then, and there the knowledge of the saied letters again, which onely remained in the family of Heber, of, or from whom afterwarde descended the Hebrues, who (as wee fore saide) neuer loste their firste and aunciente tongue. Which as it is true, so Sainct Augustine reporteth it in his booke aboue alleaged, Eusebius also in his first booke, of his preparation Euangelicall, as also the greater part of the learned of our tyme. Wherefore as well Philon, as also these others, whiche supposed Moyses to haue be­en the first father of letters, were there in all to geather deceaued, for that it is euident, that these bookes and hi­stories that were written by Moyses were not as they déeme, the firste of all others, ne yet before the auncient studie of Philosophie, the sadde, and sage saiynges also of the Grekes, as proueth Sainct Augustine sufficiently in the same place, Iosephus against the grammariā Apion, Eusebius also and Iustinus martirs. I conclude then that letters, were first, and before Moyses, for that we finde it recorded, that Moyses hymselfe learned the artes, and sciences of the Egiptians, which I well knowe not, how [Page] he colde haue accomplished, if they before had hadde, no feelyng in letters, although in déede, it be manifest, that they hadde certaine signes, called literae hierogliphicae, by meanes of whiche as is aboue saide, euery of theym suf­ficientlye and well vnderstoode the other. From Adam then drawe wee the originall of letters, as also that A­braham was after skilled of theim in Siria: whence it co­meth, that Plinie hath varied in his opinion, whiche wée haue in fewe now to fore remembred. It nedeth nothing in this place to searche the beginnyng, or cause, of the v­suall frame, or proportion of our characters, for that eche man maie facion theim, as is to hym best seemyng, as we daily see euery man alter at his pleasure, adding signes, some tymes, in steede or place, of letters, as affirmeth S. Hierome in the prologue, of his boke of lawes, that when Esdras, the greate scribe and doctour of the lawe, newe wrote, or drewe it out, in to some better fourme, hee founde there straunge, and newe characters of letters, whiche the Iewes after vsed, euen in the tyme of sainct Hierome, as they also doe, euen at this presente daie, whiche Hebrue letters, haue a priuate proprietie inci­dent to no other letters, of any countrie or nation: for the voice, or name, of euerie of theim, geueth significa­tion of some one thing, or other. The firste called Aleph, signifieth discipline, the seconde Beth signifieth a house: Gymel, an other letter, fillyng vp, or abundance: Daleth, tables or bookes: the others also signifie, and denote, other thinges, whiche all I leaue, as also to be tedious. Who so here in is curious, and desireth to knowe more may reade Eusebius, in his firste booke, de preparatione E­uangelica.

Where on our elders wrote before the inuention of Pa­per, and with what kinde of instrument, how Pa­per, and Parchement were firste founde out. Who first inuented the maner or skille of Printyng, as also what inestimable profite thence riseth, and in fine by what meane a blinde man maie write. Chap. 2.

SOme what haue we after a sorte spo­ken, in the former chapiter, of the in­uention of letters, it resteth nowe that we also searche, on what matter our elders, or first fathers wrote, and although directly we shall not be able here of to discourse, ne yet where on thei wrote, before y^e general inundation in the first age, for the matter is both doubtfull & difficill, to wéete, whe­ther thei had letters then, in very déede, ye or not, though we haue past it, as proued by the aucthoritie of Iosephus, as also aided, to that purpose, with some other profe, or reasons. Notwithstanding according to the opinion of al men, the first writers had no kinde, or maner of Paper, but wrote continually on the leaues of the Date tree, whence came that worde of leaues of bookes vsed at this daie. After this thei wrote againe on the rindes of trées, but especially on those that most easely were drawen, or taken from the trée, as the Elme, the Ashe, the palme or Burche trée, from which thei tooke the innermost rinde, that I meane, betwixte the cruste and the trée, of whiche subtilly and finely polished, thei framed, and facioned all their bokes, artificially conioigning, and fastnyng theim together. And for as muche as, in that time, these rindes were called by the latin men libri, hence haue bokes held from y^e time, to name this word libri, though thei this day far differ in y^e matter as is euidēt. Now after this againe an other waie was foūd, to write in plates of leade, very [Page] thinne, and perfectly fined, of whiche some curious, and priuate persones, made aswell pillers as also bookes, in which thei regestred all publike, and common actes. Be­sides this, they yet founde an other waie to write, to wéete, on Liuen cloth, fined and polished, with certaine coloures. Here also is, and in this place to bée noted, that they then wrote not, as wee nowe do with pennes, but with Reades, whiche in latine may bee called Calami, which also some vse, euen yet, in this daie. An other kind of Paper was yet founde againe, whiche was made, as it were of certaine little trées, called (as wee finde) by the name of Papers, which, in déede were none other, then a sorte, or kinde of bull rushes, ordinarely growing, in marshes adionyng to the riuer of Nile. Of which sorte some others are founde in Siria, nigh to the floodde Eu­phrates, as recordeth Plinie, hauyng the name, as the o­thers, of papers, little thinne leaues, or skinnes haue they, betwixt the rinde and the inner parts, whiche fine­ly taken or drawen out, with the poincte of an Néelde, trimde afterwarde with a certaine glue, or paste made with meale, tempered with boyled water and vineagar, was in the ende made a good, and perfect paper, to write drawe, or doo anything theron: and by how muche the nigher, you drewe the skinnes, from the inwarde parte of this Rushe, or Reede, by so muche was it both better, and more fine, and so accordyng to the goodnesse or diffe­rence of theim, thei also had diuers and different names. Who so desireth here in more, let hym reade Plinie. And Plinie in his thirtine boke, the eleuenth and twel [...]te Chapiters. for as muche as, this Réede, Rushe, or little trée, was called paper, the name is thence deriued of that paper, vsed by vs this daie, whiche is made of small péeces, or shreedes of linnen clothe, throwly wasted and worne to nothing. Varro affirmeth that the first inuentiō to make paper of these little trées, or rushes, was in the tyme of Alexander the greate, euen then when Alexandria was Alaxandria was founded by Alex. 320. yeres before the incarnatiō of Christ. Plin. in his. 31. booke, and ix. Chapiter. by hym firste founded. How be it Plinie proueth it to bée [Page 108] more auncient, by certaine bookes which Terence did to be digde out of the grounde, whiche before had been Nu­ma Pompilius his bookes, kinge of Rome, founde in the same Tombe, where he was buried, whose leaues were of the saide rushe, whiche we aboue remembred. And al­though Liuie haue otherwise written of this Toumbe, affirming that there were two founde by L. Patilius, yet be we of the minde, that Numa was long before Alexander. With Liuie here in accorde, both Lactātius, and Plu­tarche in the life of Numa, Plinies opinion notwithstan­dyng is of most menne approued. Some write that this worde Charta, tooke his originall, or denomination of a certaine Toune nigh vnto Tyre, called Carta, whence Dido altering the name, called it afterwarde Carthage. Our elders also wrote in tables weaxt, thinne, and well fined, framyng there letters with sharpe, and small pun­chions, which theim selues then termed, by the name of stiles. Whence it cometh that wee nowe vsually saie, that who so well inditeth, writeth a good stile, bor­rowyng the name, of the instrumente that they then wrote with. Also before the innention of paper, where on we presently write, the aunciente custome was, all other fore vsed meanes seposed, to write continuallie on Parchment onely, made of shepe skinnes, of whiche remembreth vs well Herodotus, whose inuention Var­ro attributeth to the inhabitauntes of Pergama, whose king then was Eumenes, whence in latin it is called at this daie pergamenum, in englishe parchement. And wher as in latine it is also called Membrana, it taketh as maie he thought the name of the inuentour. Neuerthelesse in my iudgement, men wrote on these skines, longe before that tyme, remembred by Varro, specified in like sorte afterward by Plinie, for that Iosephus writeth, that the Iosephus in his 12. booke of antiqnities, bookes of the Hebrues, and sundrie others, which were manie yeres before Eumenes, were also writtē on these skinnes, as aboue saied. As also when he reciteth that E­leasar [Page] Prince of the Préestes, sente the bookes, of holie scripture vnto Ptolomie, with the seuētie interpreters, to the intent, they for hym, should translate theim, from the hebrue into greke, affirmyng that Ptolomie, bothe straungely was amased and meruailed at the subtle ioy­ning of these skinnes, or parchmentes together. Whēce it is aperte, that what so euer was written, in any sort, in parchmente, was of longer, and greater continuance, then if it had béen doen, in these rindes or leaues, though in déede thei both were of more antiquitie, then the first. By meanes whereof, this vse of Parchemente, neither hath, neither will bee, at anye tyme againe leafte, and since that paper againe, whiche we daily now vse, is so easie to make, and in suche abundaunce, that it both hel­peth, and profiteth all kinde of studentes. But aboue all other thinges without cōparison we must confesse, that the skill of printyng, (by the onely meanes of whiche, suche heapes of bookes come, of all sortes to our handes) is amonge all other inuentions, that ether be, or earste haue been, in what sorte so euer, to be preferred: whiche, as is written, was first of al inuented by an Almaine, in­habitant of Magonce, and hight Ihon Faust (though Po­lidore Whé and who first founde the skille of printyng. otherwise surname hym Petra) by whose accompt the first printyng of bookes was there, in the yere of our redemption, a thousand, fower hundred, fiftie and thrée. And shortly afterwarde an other Almaine by name Cō ­radus practised this arte firste of all in Italie. Howe be it Volateranus writeth that thei were twoo, and both bro­thers, which past thence into Italy, beginnyng to printe in Rome, in the yere of oure Lorde a thousande, fower hundred, sixtie, and fiue. The first bookes that were im­printed were sainct Augustines de ciuitate dei, and the di­uine institutions of Lactantius Firmianus. After thys grewe there manie, excellente personages, as well in Germanie, and Fraunce, as also in Italie, which besides their arte, or skill in printyng, were also perfectly, and [Page 113] passyng well learned, as Baldus, Manucius, Badus, Coli­neus, and Frobenius, verie diligent, and painefull in cor­rection of the lettre, with infinite others, whose names to be shorte I leaue of to remember. By meanes wherof many bookes, in maner lost and hidded, were at laste pu­blished, to the inspekable profite, & commoditie of man, whiche was in déede the chife cause of so many learned men, as this daie are euerie where to be founde through­out all Christendome: whiche before both seldome, and with greate paine attained, to this absolute knowledge, and perfection in learnyng. But admit here that it were not the first, and principal cause, yet am I of that minde, that it assuredly is the greatest cause, for that with lesse paine, wee peruse nowe suche as are perfectly corrected, findyng the others euerie where full of faultes, blottes and errours, committed for the most parte, either by the lesse skil, or little care of the writer: but if any one were founde, perhaps emong the others faultles, neither was he to be had, or to bée perused of all men, so that good let­ters then florished not, as thei now, and this daie, doe v­niuersally euery where. How be it since licence first was graunted, by Princes to Printe, all bookes, fabulous, wanton, and fruitles, farre better had it béen, in this re­spect doubtles, that the waie to printe had neuer béen, to man yet, or knowne, or vnfolded: For it destroieth and withdraweth from vertue the good minde, principally of youth, whiche noseled in these follies, lesse affecteth, or desireth the studie of better lessōs. Leauing then to speak more of the commodities of printyng, descende we to the next, the practise of hand writing, which also in my iudge­ment, is this daie more perfecte, more curious, and more absolute, then at any tyme heretofore, in what age so e­uer. Concernyng which matter, Quintilian giueth some rules, not lesse worthie to bee obserued, as also the lear­ned Erasmus in his booke, of good, and perfect pronuncia­tion. But of this kinde of hande writyng, will I onely [Page] speake, by the sole meanes of whiche, as hath the said E­rasmus, certaine blinde menne haue learned orderly to write. Thei did to bee made a table of Porphire, of bone, or otherwise of mettall, in whiche was ingraued, euery the letters, as a. b. c. &c. then tooke thei in hande some small, and pretie instrumente, at the poincte very fine, sharpe, and subtile, suche, and so well fined, that with ease thei might drawe it, through euery the aboue saied letters, their handes at first by some other, wel directed, whiche thyng by long practise, thei shall in the ende con­ceiue, hauyng the true forme of eche letter in minde, fo­lowyng it still, with continuall vse, and industrie, by lit­tle, and little, shall in the ende growe so perfecte that af­terward thei shall bee able, to frame them on any other matter, where though thei some tymes faile, yet com­monly, and for the moste parte, thei shal doe it well. And thus in fine, thei maie write in paper, by iuste order, and proportion, what so euer, either offereth it self to the minde, or phantasie.

Of the first Libraries that euer were in the worlde, and how the men, of that tyme vsed, to haue the Ima­ges, or purtraites of the learned in theim. Chap. 3.

IT is to be thought, that the firste boo­kes, and libraries, that euer were in the worlde, were in the beginnyng a­mong the Hebrues: for as it is euidēt, that letters were there first knowen, and the perfect vse of theim, so is it to be supposed, that they also had some care, to kéepe, and preserue, that which they at any time had committed to writing. That whiche is as well veri­fied by the aucthoritie of Iosephus here after alleaged, as also by that wee reade in holy write. Isidorus reporteth [Page 114] that after the Chaldians hadde burned the library of the Hebrues, with all and euerie their bookes of the lawe, the Hebrues being retourned backe againe into Hierusa­lem, the prophet Esdras illumined by the holy ghoste, re­medied this harme, writyng againe these bookes, and reducing theim into the number of twentie two, which was the precise number of the letters of their Alphabet. Whence it is manifest that after Moyses had written, the Hebrues incontinently framed to theim selues a li­brary, for the better conseruation of the saied bookes of their lawe, as well these I meane, that wee presently haue of the olde Testament, as also the others, of which we before remembred, among whiche was the booke of Enoch, alleaged, or sited by sainct Iude the Apostle, in his Epistle aboue specified, the boke of the warres of our sa­uiour, wherof mentiō is in the twenty and one chapiter of the booke of Numbers, the booke also of the true ser­uauntes of God, vouchte in the seconde booke, and firste Chapiter of the kinges, the booke of Samuel the prophet, remembred in the last Chapiter, of Paralipomenon, the booke of Nathan the Prophet, with many others, which all séemed to haue bien brunt, or other wise consumed. So that it appeareth euidently, that the Iewes had their libraries, and that those of the Gentiles, were after thē and later. The Gréekes report, that the firste that euer ordained any publike library was Pisistratus tyranne of Athens, whiche after was augmented and inricht by the Athenians: whither when as Xerxes after warde came, he remoued the library thence into Persia, where it was diligently, and carefully preserued, vntill longe tyme af­ter, that Seleucus, named Nicanor gatte them thence, and brough theim backe againe to Athens. These thin­ges are reported of Aulus Gellius, and Isidorus, whiche both affirme that this library, grewe daily after this, to A. Gel. in his sixte booke. Isidorus in his sixte booke. be verie riche of all bookes of what sort so euer. How be it the library of Alexandria in Egypte, whiche king Pto­lomi [...] [Page] by his onely meanes framed, was assuredly the moste excellenst of all others in the world, for that there in was founde all the olde Testament, the other scriptu­res also of the seuentie two interpreters with infinite o­thers, famous, and learned workes. P [...]inie not withstan­dyng againe reporteth, that the kynge Eumenes in con­tempte of Ptolomie, did an other to be erected in the Ci­tie of Pergama. A. Gellius, and Am. Mercellinus writte that in the library at Alexandria in Egypte, were at one tyme seuen hundren thousande bokes. Seneca in like sort on the number accordeth with theim, whiche althogh it might seme almoste incredible, yet who so hath redde of the sumptuous larges, and excessiue profutiō of the kin­ges of Egypte, as well about sepulchers, Piramides, tem­ples, as also other common buildyngs, and shippes, with infinite suche others, of inestimable price, some parte, of the whiche Budeus, in his annotations on the pandectes verie well remembereth vs, and Lazarus of Baif, in hys booke intituled, ars naualis, reporteth that this librarie séemed nothing to hym impossible. From euery parte, and corner of the worlde, bookes were daily brought, to the better furnishyng of this library, written also in all tongues what so euer then knowen, of which none had any charge, but suche as were beste learned. Some for the poetes, some for histories, others some also for the o­thers, of other faculties and sciences, whiche all were wasted and consumed with fier by the impacable fury of the Soldiours of Caesar, whiche euen thether followed, and pursued the great and mighty Pompe, ouerrunning also at that same tyme the force of Ptolomie, brother to Cleopatra. Concerning that other, so riche of bookes, and so famous, by the paine and labour of Eumenes in Parga­ma, Plutarche in the life of Marcus Antonius, saieth, that he thether had gathered two hundred thousand volumes euery one from other of sundrie, and diuers matters. As touchyng the library in Grece, Strabo affirmeth, that A­ristotle [Page 115] was the first that euer gathered or brought toge­ther any bookes in Athens: where in he lesse accordeth with other historiogriphers, whiche attribute the com­mendation of that so honest a dimerite onely to Pisistra­tus whiche was as is euident many yeres before Aristo­tle, wherefore we muste in this place vnderstande, that Strabo mente his wordes of a meane, and priuate perso­nage, and not of king, or prince, as was in effecte Pisistra­tus. Howbeit, very likely it is, that Aristotle herein was aided, by the busie paine of Alexander. After all these an other was erected in Rome, both publike, and common by Asinius Pelion. But the first that euer brought greate store of boakes thether was Paulus Emilius, after the conqueste of Perseus. And after hym againe L. Lucullus, which he brought among other thinges as a praie out of Pontus. Iulius Caesar againe, with like care inrichte thys library, committyng it to the charge, or kéepyuge of M. Varro, whiche afterwardes with some others in Rome was brunte & destroyed, by meanes of the often sackyng and subuersion of that citie. Whiche neuer the lesse was restored againe by the Emperour Domitian, who euery where and in all countries made diligent searche for boo­kes, causing with the same, that famous library in Gre­ce, to be trasported and brought from thēce vnto Rome, whence it is euident, that al Ptolomies librarie was not there consumed as we before saide it to bee with fier, for that some parte of it was now cōueighed to Rome. Far­ther Paulus Orosius geueth vs to thincke, that it throw­ly in deede was not brunt, and consumed, when he saith that there were burned only four hundred thousand, for that the number of bookes there, as we reade in others, was no lesse then seuen hundred thousande, so that wee may conclude thre hundred thousand to be saued, how be it, diuers histories passe this in such sorte, as if none had been reserued from the rage of the fier. But to retourne to the library of Rome, the saide Paulus Orosius saieth, [Page] that in the daies of the Emperour Commodus, this saide library was once againe burned, and that Gordian (as the others) to repaire it, gathered againe fiftie two thousande volumes, whiche all as some reporte were geuen hym by the testamēt of Seranus Samoniquus, whose thei first were as hath Iulius Capitolinus. Besides these were many others both noble, and riche libraries, gathered by our elders, as well priuate, and meane menne, as greate Lordes and Princes. The firste library that euer was knowen among the Christians, was that, as recordeth Esidorus of Panphilius the Martir, whose life is at large writtē by Eusebius, in whose studie after his death, were founde thirtie thousande diuers volumes. One common vsage or custome, was ordinary in the olde age, to weete, that they had in their secret Cabinetes, or Studies, the perfect Image and purtraite, of all suche as had in anie sorte, excelled in learnyng. Plinie writeth, that Marcus Varro beyng yet then liuyng, merited for hys rare ver­tue, and knowledge in good letters, that hys Image shoulde haue place, in the library of Asinius Polion. Ci­cero wrote to Fabian, that hee shoulde prouide hym, of some purtraites, the better to adorne and beautifie hys study. Plinie the yonger writing to Iulius Seuerus, saieth, that Ere. Seuerus, a man verie well lettered, would order in his studie among other his purtraites, the Images of Cornelius, and Titus Arius. Of these thinges finde wee euerie where sufficient, and good proofe: whose libraries as also those of other learned men, and greate Princes, whiche after in successe, and processe of tyme followed, were destroied, and defaced by the Gothee, and Vanda­les, vntill now, that in our tyme by the greate bounty of God, infinite are founde both studious and learned, that haue gathered together houge heapes of bookes, though not in deede the tenth parte, of these aboue remembred, by our ancestours. And assuredly a greate nōber of those, whiche from their tyme vntill now haue been carefully [Page 116] preserued founde neuer the lesse ill written, lesse perfect, and incorrected, in suche sorte that had it not been, for the grerte paines, of certaine worthy personages, hardlie had they euer been brought to any kinde of perfection.

¶ Of the amitie and enmitie of sundrie thinges, issuyng by priuie, hidden, and secrete proprieties. Chap. 4.

THe aunciente philosopher Heraclitus, as also others some after hym, helde and maintained, in their disputati­ons this opinion, that eche thyng had his firste cause or beginnyng, by con­corde, and discorde, by peace, and en­mitie, whiche is in all thynges of what kinde soeuer, whence also issued the generation, and corruption of them: on whiche poinct of Philosophie I lesse mynde here to dwell, of parte for that it is bothe intricate, and difficill of parte also, for that the reader in my phantasie, shall thence reape as little fruicte, as he shall conceiue pleasure. Notwithstādyng, we shall some what saie, of the secrete loue, and hatered, whiche natu­rally is in many thynges, whiche, whence, or how it co­meth no manne directly knoweth: and is therefore assu­redly, no lesse straunge, then marueilous. As first of all, the enmitie betwixte the Dogge, and the Catte, be­twixte Oile, and Pitche, the Harte, and the Serpente, with many suche others, whiche in suche sorte malice, and enuie eche the other, this secrete rancor, of no parte proceading from th'elementes: for the difference, or con­trarietie in thynges mixte, or compounde, is to all men aperte, and euident, as wee sée. The water first disaccor­deth, as of nature contrary with the fire, for that the fire is hotte and drie, but the water contrary, these elemen­teseche to other opposite, and repugnaunte. The water [Page] and the yearth, accorde well together, but in this respect onely, that thei bothe bee colde: in the other, that one be­yng moiste, that other drie, eche here leaueth the other, as his auncient enemie. Betwixt the fire, and the yearth there is a conformitie, to wéete, in that thei bothe be drie a contrarietie againe, euen betwene theim bothe dwel­leth, the fire hoate, that other colde. So that as these ele­mentes of parte, agrée together, so also disagrée thei, of, parte as is euidente. All thynges then what so euer are, caused of these elementes, must be subiecte of necessitie­to these contrary qualities, whiche bee in these elemen­tes, whence thei mixte are, and compounded. Wherfore that thyng, in whiche ruleth moste, some elementarie qualitie, boroweth his name of the saied qualitie: and so wée saie it to bée, either hoate, colde, moiste, or drie, some in more high degrée then others, accordyng to the predo­minant force, in any these elementes. And this these bo­dies, contrary either to other, are the onely, and sole cau­ses of contrary effectes, so that whence this discrepante, or different nature in thynges is, is now manifeste, and nedeth no farther explication. But this other enmitie, that proceadeth not from any the elementes, but rather from some hidden proprietie, or secrete influence, to find the true cause, and occasion thereof, would aske more earneste studie, and longer contremplation. The Dogge and Catte (as is aboue saied) eche hateth other, neither knowe we the cause why. Other creatures also sée wée, that mutually are affectioned either to other, neither issueth this their loue, from any the elementes, whereof thei are composed. The Asse eateth Fenell gyante, or o­therwise Sagapene, whiche in Latine maie also be called ferula, and findeth it bothe good, and toothsome, whiche to all other beastes, of Horse kinde, is a very starcke, and plain poison. The Fox ioieth, and liketh of the Serpent whiche neuer the lesse, enuieth all other beastes what so euer. Neither is this lesse to be meruailed emong men, [Page 117] then also emong any other creatures, for that man nei­ther knowyng why, ne yet for what cause, eftsones at the firste sighte, when he shall méete an other, neuer ha­uyng before, or seen, or knowen hym, will notwithstan­dyng disdaine, and hate hym, and immediatly findyng a­gaine the second, no lesse straunge to hym, then the first, will well conceiue of hym, loue, and like hym, and that whiche more is, sometyme will bothe honour, and reue­rence hym, yea, though he be in déede, for causes iuste his inferiour, little accoumptyng of the others, were thei though in truthe greate Lordes, and Rulers. Againe, we sometymes sée, twoo men so straungely affectioned, that the one voweth hym self to the will, and aduice of the other, whiche oftsones hath happened, betwixte the seruaunte, and maister, so that by nature it séemeth (the order of reason inuerted) that the vassaule was the bet­ter; no reason to bée giuen, of so greate a disorder. In case semblable suche subiection, poudered sometymes, with malicious enmitie, bothe is, and chaunceth emong bir­des also, as betwixte the Eagle, and the Swanne, the Crowe, and the Kite, whiche at times hardneth her self, to take a preie from the Crowe, euen out of her folded foote, or pinchyng pawes sliyng. Like enmitie is also be­twixte the Chough, and the Kite; the Egle also, and the Goose, in suche sorte, that if you laie but one feather of an Egle, emong many, or in a heape of these of a Goose, that one wasteth, and consumeth all the others to nothyng. The Harte is mortall enemie vnto the Snake, for with his vehemente respiration, aboute her hole, he draweth the Snake out, by force of his breath onely: and without more incontinently deuoureth hym: for proofe whereof, who so pleaseth to burne, onely some small parte, or por­tion of his horne, shall finde that no Serpent, will abide the smell thereof. The Crowe, the Asse, and Bulle, in like sorte disagrée, whose iyes the Crowe still beaketh, and laboureth to plucke out. The birde called Flore, skil­fully [Page] counterfaiteth the braiyng of a Horse, by meanes whereof, he as commonly feareth the horse, as the horse by the same meanes feareth also hym. Greate enemies to the Woulfe, is the Foxe, the Asse, and the Bulle, be­twixt the Vultur also, and the Ele, nature hath proclai­med continuall warre, and hostilitie. The mightie Lion dreadeth, and feareth the Cocke, he also flieth the sighte of fire, and the noice of a carte, the Panther in like sorte, the presence of the Hinde: the Scorpion pursueth with fatall enmitie, the Tarentula, whiche in Latin we maie call Falanga, whose venime, when he hath bitten any mā is no waie (as some write) cured, but by pleasant harmo­nie, and Musicke, and the malice of these twoo beastes is suche, and so impacable, that who also is stonge, or bitten of the Scorpion, findeth presente remedie in that oile, where the Tarentula, or Falanga hath tofore béen drou­ned. The monsterous, and houge Elephante, bothe fea­reth, and flieth the simple Serpent, he trembleth at the presence, and sight, of a shepe, he by no meanes indureth the grunnyng of a Hogge. The Horse, Asse, or Moile, with greate paine abideth to sée the We sell, the Snite, or woode Cocke, hardly dwelleth in the sight of the house Cocke. There is a kinde of Faucons, whiche Aristotle calleth Tico, that liueth in continuall warre, and enmi­tie with the Fox, neuer missing to fight with him, where he so at any tyme findeth hym. Elian mindeth vs or inces­sante malice, betwixte an other sorte of Faucons, called Pelagra, and the Crowe, betwixte the Crowe againe al­so, and the harmeles Turtle. Betwixt the Oule and the Curlue, & in fine, betwixt the partridge and the Tortuis The Pelican aboue all other birdes, hateth the Quaile, and the Horse, without comparison, with moste pain in­dureth the shamois. Like enmitie is also naturallye e­mong fishes, the Crabbe maie not abide in cōpanie with the Oister, the Dolphin, and the Whale slie eche the o­ther, the Cunger naturally hateth the Lampraie, and [Page 118] Oister. The Oister on the Ele, hath suche a predomināt, and malicious force, and the Ele in suche sorte abhorreth and feareth hym, that if by happe she ones sée hym, she incontinently dieth thereof. The Pike fatally prosecu­teth, the fishe of some, called Mongilla, or Mugra: the Snake beholding a man appareiled, wisheth him harme and hardeneth her self, as she maie, to bite, and annoye hym, but seyng the same naked, feareth againe, and flieth hym. The Ratte, or Mouse rather, is to the Snake an auncient enemie, as well when she is busied in couching her Egges, as also in the Winter, when she lieth deepe hidden, in the intrailes of the yearth: by meanes where­of, the Snake to liue in more securitie, heapeth togither in her hole, good store of prouision, meates fitte, and wel pleasyng her aduersarie the Mouse, to the intente that the Mouse beyng well fedde therewith, she at that time might forget, her farther rage, and malice. The Woul­fes malice towardes the Shepe is suche, and so naturall, that if you make a drumme of the skinne of a Woulfe, the Shepe with no lesse feare, flieth the sounde thereof, then if the Woulfe were liuyng, and present then before hym. Farther also some others affirme, that if you make any stringes for the Viall, or Lute, of the guttes as well of the Shepe, as of the Woulfe also, you neuer shall ac­corde them, or frame thence any harmonie. If ye hange the skinne of a Woulfe, either in your stable, or Shepe­house, or where your flocke is fodthered, the sighte, and feare thereof, forceth theim to forget their feedyng. The Mouse by a secret proprietie, so muche enuieth the Scor­pion, that whom so euer he impoisoneth, is by clappyng of a Mouse, on the parte affected, cured. The Viper and Snake, dread meruailously the Crabbe, whiche natural­ly hath ouer these wormes, suche assured maisterie, that if a hogge by happe, should be bitten of the Viper, he im­mediately expelleth the poison, hauyng eaten of the Crabbe. Besides, whiche moste straunge is, as sone as [Page] the Sunne entreth into the signe of Cancer, all Serpen­tes then languishe, as sicke of some maladie. The fishe called Scorpio, and the Crocodile, wage continuall bat­taile, eche killyng still the other. The Panther in suche sorte feareth the Ounce: that as some write, he suffereth hymself to be slaine of hym, without any kinde of resi­stance: and also if you hang the Panthers skinne, in that place where you kéepe the Ounce; the Panthers skinne will then pill, waste, and consume. Suche is the enmitie also of the Chough, and the Dawe, that as Aristotle re­porteth, eche robbeth, and destroieth the others Egges. The Waspe liueth in continuall warre with the Spi­der: as doeth the Ducke also; with the Mouse or Ratte, eche séekyng to deuoure, and eate the others yonge ones. The Kite continually malliceth, and hateth the Foxe. There is a small kinde of Haukes, whiche Plinie calleth Esalon, whiche with fatall enmitie, pursueth still the Crowe, he searcheth out her neste, and destroieth her eg­ges. The hogge hardly indureth the presence of the we­sell. The Woulfe, and Lion are enemies so contrary, that the blood of the one, will not bee mixte with the o­ther. The Mole or Wante, so disliketh of the Ante, that he abideth not in the place, where the others bee. The Spider wageth priuie warre, against the Serpent, and as Plinie reporteth, doeth hym shamefully to dye. Besi­des all these, emong thynges also voide, and lackyng life, like repugnancie, or contrarietie of nature is to be found for as wee firste saied, oile is enemie to Pitche, for triall whereof, who so putteth oile into a pitchie vessell, shall sée that the Pitche will sone consume the Oile. Oile a­gaine disagréeth with water: as dooeth also in like sorte Lime, but Oile and Lime liue in perpetual league, and amitie. The Olife hath a secrete, & hidden force, against the vnchast lecherer, suche in déede, and so straunge, that as it is written, if a woman lesse chaste, attempt to plāt hym, she shall languishe, and die of it, the trée also withe­reth. [Page 119] The Colewort hardly groweth, beyng sowen nigh to Maioram. Salte water waxeth swéete, mixte with Wheaton flower, in suche sorte, that within twoo ho­wers afterward, a man maie easily drinke thereof. Wee might in this place loade the reader, with infinite suche examples, of fatall, and mortall enmitie, as well emōg thynges hauyng life, as also others insensible, whiche al to tarrie, were long and tedious: as on the other side also wee might speake of many thynges, that secretly occord well by the priuie instincte of nature, as of the Pecocke, and the Pigion, the Turtle, and the Popingaie, the Thrushe, and the Crane. Aristotle reporteth a straunge example of amitie, betwixte a certaine kinde of Sparo­wes, and the Crocodile, he saieth, that this houge beaste openeth his mouthe, to th'intent, this little birde should come in there at, to beake, trimme, and make cleane his téethe, to purge his gummes, and ease him euery where, and in fine addeth that this Sparrowe, feedeth, and plea­seth, in that lothsome filthe, he there gathereth. It is also saied, that the Fore loueth well the Crowe, the Dawe also the Henne of India, and in fine the Larke, an other birde called the Ioncke. The Foxe is neuer indomaged by any kinde of Snake, the Pigion ioieth in the presence of the Turtle, the Partridge also with her beloued the Wooddoue. The fishe, in Latine called Talpa marina, is aboue all others fauoured, and beloued of the Whale, whiche as witnesseth Plinie, rolleth carefully before her, aduisyng her where to shoune the whirlyng gulfes, and déepe holes. Beholde now the meruailous woorkes, and secrete force of nature, through the prouidence of GOD, moued, by the influence of the Starres, and Planettes, whiche all wee finde sufficiently, and well aucthorised, by Plinie, Aristoile, Albertus Magnus, Elian, Marbodeus the Poete, in his bookes of the nature, and proprietie of sto­nes, with many others, bothe auncient, and late writers as well of the nature of beastes, as of other thynges.

By what meanes both amitie and enmitie procede from the heauenly, and celestiall influence: and why a man hateth or loueth another. Chap. 5.

AS we haue aboue saied concerning the secrette, and priuie force of nature, so are there certaine Starres and Pla­nettes, whiche haue more perticuler dominion on some thinges, then on some others, forcyng by their priuate influence some assured proprieties, whiche neither are caused, bee of any elimentarie qua­lities: how be it, we neither yet may properly saie, that there is any hostilitie, or discorde betwixt the starres or fignes in heauen. Notwithstandyng the auncient philo­sophers and Astrologians, consideryng the sundrie and contrarie effectes of the influēces, caused by the Starres and Planettes in these our yearthly corruptible and in­feriour bodies, by their onely motions and irradiations, haue attributed vnto theim for iust cause, diuers quali­ties, as well of ametie, as enmitie together, whereof we finde most aperte, and plaine demonstration as well in Guido Bonatus, as Schonerus, and infinite others, Mars and Venus are enimies to Saturne, Iupiter also and Mer­curie malice eche th'other: the Sūne and the Moone with all other Planettes liue in leage perpetuall, and amitie with Iupiter, Mars onely excepted, generall ennimie to theim all, Venus alone exemted. Iupiter and Venus with like loue imbrace the Sunne, whose cōtraries are Mars Mercurie, and the Moone. Venus fauoureth all th'others, and is sole ennimie to Sarurne. So is there then betwixt these (whiche to be shorte I passe ouer) bothe amitie, and enmitie, as is aboue saied. The case then thus standyng those thynges that are subiecte, as gouerned by any one Planette, muste, by inclination naturall, either lone, or [Page 120] disdaine, what so els is subiect to any other, bée it either Planet, signe, or constellation, accordyng to the confor­mitie or diuersitie of nature, whiche shall bee betwixte these starres whiche rule, and raigne ouer thē, and then is this enmitie, of greatest force, and efficacie. Whē that betwixt the natures, & qualities of these Planets, vnto which thei bée in any respecte subiecte, bée of moste repu­gnant, and contrary nature: as on th'other side, that mu­tuall amitie, shall so muche be the strōger, as the confor­mitie of these celestiall bodies, shall bée either nigher, or greater. And this supernall force, or cōstellation, no lesse extendeth it self to man, then it also doeth to euery other creature. How bée it man, beyng of more frée, and adui­sed determination, although he of parte féele this repu­gnancie, or inclination, yet by grace is he able to with­stande, and resiste it, where as other creatures voide of reason, not vsyng this priuilege, are ordered, and carried euery where, accordyng to their naturall inclination, e­xecutyng to their vttereste, what so séemeth to theim a­greable: thesame also is incident to hearbes, and to plan­tes. Concernyng the mutuall loue, or affection betwixte men, Astronomers affirme, and emong thē their Prince Ptolomie, that those, that in their natiuitie, shall haue one, and the same signe, for their ascendente, shall like, and loue very friendly togither, as also semblably those, that haue bothe the Sunne, and the Moone, in any one signe togither. And againe, thei adde that to thesaid pur­pose, it sufficeth to haue one also, and the same Planette dominatour, in their birthe, or natiuitie, for it naturally prouoketh loue, and conformitie of nature, or if one Pla­net, to bothe be not perhappes lorde, it yet sufficeth, that the two, be frendes themselues togither, or that, the one beholde the other, with good, and fauourable asspecte: whiche easily is séen, the figures of bothe natiuities ere­cted. Greate helpe also groweth to this conformitie, if their haue some parte of Fortune, in the same signe, or [Page] house togither, and that the house, or signe, in which the Moone shall bée, in the natiuitie of the one, shall haue a fauourable asspecte, in the birthe of the other: for as thei more, or lesse shall accord in these conditions, so shall the affections of the parties increase, or els diminish. Whēce it is, that twoo menne hauyng to doe, one, and the same thyng, the third without his desertes, or cause what soe­uer, is affectionate, and leaueth, as sworne friend to that one, and on the other side wisheth harme, and sinister Fortune to that other, without any annoye, or offence on that side committed: whiche might happen to twoo suche, whose ascendentes were of repugnante qualities, and of a contrary triplicitie, the lordes also of their nati­uities, of nature opposite, and enemies, as the Sunne, and Moone in opposition, in signes of diuers natures, and that these Planettes, in the birthe of the firste, bee in vn­fortunate asspectes, to these of that other. For these thin­ges, and suche others, as here might bée alleaged, are the causes why one beholdyng an other, conceiueth straight against hym, some inwarde disdaine, or pleasure (as is e­uident when we sée twoo men plaiyng togither, fight, or dispute for what matter so euer) for that neither stan­dyng bound, to the one, or the other, neither euer hauing knowen theim, who, or whence thei are, wisheth not­withstandyng, the desired victorie soner, to the one, then to the other. Concernyng that, whereof we haue spoken that one manne without any occasion, should so muche dread, or feare an other, that he submitteth hymself, and boweth, faine, and gladde to bee ruled by hym, though indeede he bee his better, more worthie, or more honoura­ble, the case is euidente, and by experience common. Of whiche al, Ptolomie giueth this reason, saiyng: that who so in his natiuitie, shall haue his lorde, or ruler, or for better demonstration, to exēplifie of twoo, of which the one hauyng the lorde of his natiuitie, in some signe ascendēt, in the firste, or Easte angle, the other in the Southe, or [Page 121] tenth angle, the house of honour, he naturally ruleth, or­dereth, and gouerneth the other. The semblable againe also chaunceth to those, in whose natiuities, the one hath that Planette for his lorde, whiche to the other is moste vnfortunate, voide of euery kinde of dignitie. If twoo also haue one, and the same signe, for their ascendēt or otherwise for their lorde, and ruler one Planet, he to whom this Planet shall bée of moste force, and aucthori­tie (as was aboue said in beastes voide of reason) shal na­turally rule, and haue dominion ouer the other. When then this aduauntage, happeneth to suche a one, as is of the other, bothe loued and fauoured, he by meane there­of, immediatly bothe ordereth, and gouerneth hym: but if it chaunce, or betide, percase to a poore seruaunt, or vas­saule, he then assuredly is faithfull, obedient, and loiall, if to twoo friendes of equall birthe and habilitie (as is, and hath many tymes béen seen) eche then liueth with other, in moste perfecte integritie, the one for the moste parte orderyng, euery the affaires, or busines of the other.

¶ That the memorie maie be hurte, and that it also by arte, and by pollicie maie be fortified. Chapt. 6.

EVen as the memorie in manne, is a thing moste excellent, so also is it ve­ry daintie, an delicate, obnoxious, and subiecte, to sundrie misfortunes, as to sicknesse, hurtes, and woundes on the heade, age, sodaine feare, faules from high places, with many suche others. All whiche offende, and hurte the memorie, indomaging her vsuall place, or seate, as also the organes, or instru­mentes thereof. Whence it commeth in this place to bée considered, that some by the weakenesse, and debilitie of memorie, haue vtterly forgotten all thynges, what [Page] soeuer thei ones knew, or otherwise had learned. Some again in one thyng haue béen onely maihemed, as Plinie Plinie lib. 7. cap. 8. well noteth, of Messala Coruinus, who after a disease (of whiche he well recouered) liued euer afterward in suche case, that he neuer could remember, his owne proper name. Valerius also discoursyng of miracles, reporteth that a learned man, by the knocke of a stone, whiche he receiued on the head, forgatte what soeuer he before had profited, in any the Sciences, or other good studies, and yet not withstandyng in al other affaires, was of memo­rie as freshe, and as perfecte as at any other tyme. An o­ther by a faule, from a place on high, forgat also to know his owne naturall parentes. I haue bothe red, and heard it reported, that Franciscus Barbarus, a man of our tyme, not meanely learned, but especially in the Greke, wher­in he moste pleasured, by the meane of a maladie, wher­with he was troubled, forgate all what soeuer he before had gained, in the ripe, and exacte knowledge of the saied tongue: remainyng in all other thinges, no lesse learned then at the firste, a thyng in trouthe very straunge, and merueilous. It is also recorded, that Georgius Trapes. a man famous for his learnyng, forgatte in his age, what so in good letters, he tofore had profited. And as we finde here, that memorie in manne, by sundrie occasions, maie well be weakened, so also finde we some, that naturally haue had fainte, and slippyng memories. The Emperor Claudius here in so holted, as Suetonius writyng his life, reporteth, that some tymes hauyng in bedde by hym his wife, incontinently after he had talkte any thyng with her, he so became vnmindefull of hym self, and all other thynges, that he would aske where she was, why she came not to bedde, and why she so longe taried. And ha­uyng doen to death on a tyme, a noble man, the daie fol­lowing made inquirie for hym again, to determine with the others of his counsaill on controuersies. Herodotus Sophista had a soonne, of so simple a memorie, that by no: [Page 122] labour possible, he could learne, or attaine to the knowe­ledge of the letters by order, by meanes whereof, the fa­ther (who so muche desired, his enteraunce in learning) the better to bryng hym to some kind of féelyng, did to be fostered in his house, twentie fower younge boies, all of his owne age, to euery of whiche for name, he gaue the name of a letter, to the intente that he acquainted with theim, and callyng theim by the ir names, might also remember the noumber, and order of the letters. And as it is said aboue, that sodaine feare eftfones troubleth the memorie, so assuredly true is it, that although in deede it vtterly destroie not the memorie, yet at times it forceth manne, to forgette these thinges, that he before careful­ly with paiue, had committed vnto her, as it ones happe­ned to Demosthenes, a moste excellent Oratour, whiche passyng imbassadour, to Philippe king of Macedonie, felt in hym self so straunge an alteration, beyng presente to vtter his charge, before so puissante a prince, that hauing past in some little parte, of his premeditated oration, ar­rested of the sodaine, forgettyng that whiche remained, as if he neuer had before thought thereon or in any sorte digested it. The very semblable reade wée of Theophra­tus, whiche being mounted in his chaire, would haue vt­tered some woordes, before the Areopagites of Athens, of Herodes the Atheniā, who receiued in charge, to haue spoken before the Emperour Marcus Antonius: of Era­clides in the presence of the Emperour Seuerus, at least, as is lefte vs, by recorde, of Philostratus. And almoste in this our age Bartholomeus Socinus, borne at Sienna, a man absolutely grounded, and learned in the lawes, assi­gned imbassadour for his countrie, vnto Pope Alexandre in whose presence (as the maner is) when he a little while had spoken, abashed some thyng by the sighte, and present beyng there of these princes, whiche were there assembled, beyonde the wonted number, forgat hymself, sodainly so amased, that he farther in order, could not pronounce [Page] one woorde. To me also suche an alteration ones happened, as was that other aboue remembred of De­mosthenes (not that I would here enter into comparisō) in the presence of a worshipfull, and learned audience, and that by the greate affection, whiche I had, to the con­sideration of my cause, whiche in suche sorte altered me, before all the senators, that I lesse able was to ende my matter there beganne, though before I had wel thought Pet. Crinitus lib. 5. cap. 3. there on and well disposed it in order. Now that the me­morie maie bee aided, and preserued by arte, can of no man, what soeuer, for any cause bee doubted, of whiche, and whose remedie, many a learned hande hath curious­ly written. As Solinus, and Quintilian bothe at large, and in many. Seneca also in the place aboue alleaged, where he reporteth this arte memoratiue, to be so facill, and easie, that in fewe daies all men, maie bee well skil­led therein. It is also written, that Cineas, the ambassa­dour of the renoumed Pirrhus, practised this arte to help, and aide his memorie. Plinie, and Quintilian write, that Simonides firste founde this meane, to preserue the me­morie, although the saied Plinie affirme, that Metrodo­rus reduced it afterwarde to perfection, who also by that arte meruailously fortified, and confirmed his owne me­morie. Cicero in his boke de oratore, Quintilian also, and Valerius in his miracles, reporteth, that Simonides on a tyme inuited, with sundrie others, to a greate bankette, the house where thei feasted, sodainly fel doune, by mea­nes wherof no one escaped that death, Simonides excep­ted, who euen in that instante rose, and went forthe, cal­led by some one, he neuer yet knewe who, by whiche happe at that tyme, he there saued his life. And the histo­ries recorde, that when the deade bodies were drawen out, whiche were many, all inuited geastes, to that so infortunate a dinner, Simonides declared where, and in what order euery of theim were plaste, and satte at the table, euen then, and in that instante, when the house so [Page 123] fell on theim. The examples that might bee alleaged, in this place, to this purpose, are many, but it sufficeth vs, to arreste on that, whiche is saied. One other thyng also, riseth here to be noted, whiche is that the Philosophers, and principally Aristotle, finde a scruple, or difference, be­twixte the memorie, and recordation, for that memorie saie thei maie be, as well in beastes, as in man, although not in so perfecte, and in so absolute a sorte, and maner, but recordation to man onely, and to hym alone is pro­per, whiche is to recorde with discourse, studiyng on thin­ges, as in cases of contemplation, descendyng from the generall, to the partes, and perticulers, not omittyng, the circumstances bothe of tyme, and persones, and that all with due consideration, and aduise: for beastes voide of reason, remember also the place, where thei at any tyme haue hardly been intreated, the Horse shunneth to dwell, where he hath been harmed, and in like sorte all others, more or lesse in their degrées. But as wee haue saied, recordation then in man, is muche more absolute, and perfect, assisted with sounde aduise, and intelligence, orderly passyng from matter to matter. So that accor­dyng to the opinion of Aristotle, that manne, that hath a moste sharpe, and fined witte, is also of better recordatiō then an other, though some other perhaps exceade hym, in the perfection of memorie: for that to recorde well, is a certain maner of inuestigation, whiche forceth the me­morie as it were slepyng to awake, to call to minde, and to remember, any thyng, what soeuer, wherefore the moste quicke, and beste fined wittes, soneste conceiue thynges, and committe them to memorie, and memorie by recordation, maketh of them again, at all times faith­full restitution. The Grekes emong others many, the vanities of their Goddes, adored, or reuerenced a God­desse of memorie, in suche sorte that this force, or power, of the minde, hath euermore béen hadde, in greate reue­rence, and estimation. Wherefore to conclude, man stā ­deth [Page] highly bounde vnto God, for this so heauenly, and excellent a benefite, and ought studiously to indeuour, to maintaine, and preserue it. Marcilius Ficinus in his boke, de triplici vita giueth sundrie instructions, and preceptes to this purpose.

In what honour, and reputation, Philosophers, Poetes, and all others, in what arte, or science, soeuer they were learned, liued with Emperours, Kynges, and Princes, in tymes past. Chap. 7.

TRulie and for iuste cause maie we not complaine, of the want of learned men, in euerie arte and science: but on th'other side I see good letters to mourne, that they nowe bee not so well estimed, and thought of, ne yet so well recompensed of princes in this age, as the well lettered in tymes paste were, by Emproures, Kinges, and other noble personages in those daies. And to speake the truth, whither in déede thei haue so good reason to plaine them I will passe it nowe in fewe, and in place of disputation, wil only remīber here some fewe histories, or examples of auncient princes, and sundrie Monarkes, which so fo­stored and fauoured the studious, & learned, that entring into comparison of their vertuous demerites, with these others that liue now in these our vnhappie daies, it may be euidēt to all men, what cause thei haue in truth to sor­rowe, and to complaine. Firste to beginne with that most excellent, and most victorious Pompe, of whom we reade, that when he subdued, and vanquished Mithrida­tes, with others many victories, and aduentures of ar­mes, beyng entered Athens, with all his spoyles trium­phantly, [Page 124] the Ensignes and Standers of his ennimies borne before him, as was thā the maner of the Consul­les, and Romaine Capitaines, was aduertised that the Philosopher Possidonius laie presently then sicke, and diseased in his bedde, who desirous to visite hym, woulde not onely honour hym with hys personall presence, but approchyng nigh vnto his house, commaunded that hys foresaide imperiall Ensignes, should also be carried into the philosophers Chamber with him: for that in his ad­uice, all Kinges, and Emperours, ought true duetie, and reuerence to learning, and vertue. This then, and in this manner bowed he to this poore manne, that woulde haue refused to haue stoopt to any Prince then liuynge. Denis the tyrante Kyng of Siracusa, hauyng wounde by intreatie, the diuine Plato to come, and visite hym, and vnderstandyng that he was on the waie comyng, issued in meruailous pompe of purpose to méete hym, whom he receaued into his owne coache, drawen with white hor­ses, with most greate and solemne triumphe, that was to be deuised possible, for the marueilous reputation, in those daies, due to the learned. Alexander determinyng to sacke, and destroie the toune of Thebes, commaunded first that no man should touche in any wise, the house of the Poete Pindarus. In what honour Virgil liued, and reputation with Octauian, is euident to all men through out the whole worlde, whom the people of Rome healde in suche admiration, that as Plinie in his seuenth booke amplie recordeth, when hee entered into the Theatre to pronoūce some his verses, al the multitude roase to him, doyng hym no lesse reuerence, then they did to the Em­perour: and that which more is Silius Italicus a famous Poete a Spaniarde borne, hadde his daie of natiuitie of all menne so solemnized, that they more carefully did, with more reuerence, and deuotion prepare to adorne to blisse, and sanctifie that daie, then they did any others, that hadde any care to solemnize, or beutifie his owne [Page] birth. The giftes also that were presented vnto Virgil, as well by Octauian, Mecaenas, and others, were sutche, and so riche as reporteth Seruius, that he in shorte tyme was found to be worth no lesse then six thousande Sester­ces in redie mony, whiche with vs mounte to twoo hun­dred, and fiftie thousande frenche Crounes: he hadde in Rome a sumptuous, and an honorable palais, by meanes wherof [...]uuinal in his seuenth Satyre, accompted him for one of the richeste in that tyme. On a daie this Poete in the presence of Octauiā, & Liuia his wife, mother to Mar­cellus, vtteryng certē verses of his AEneidos, and draw­yng to the ende, where he with suche an excellent grace, and comely maiestie, had also some thinge saide of the a­boue remembred Marcellus, whiche lately before hadde then yelded to nature, in suche sorte, that the poore pas­sionate, and sorrowfull mother, beganne to faint, falling into an extasie, not hearing the ende or last of his verses. But after warde reuiued, commyng againe to her selfe, cōmaunded that for euery verse that she then had loast, that ten Sesterces shoulde bee numbered forthwith vnto Virgil, who after that she fainted pronounced, by accompte, iuste one and twentie, for whiche all he receaued as was her commaundemente a rewarde mountyng to the value of fiue thousand Duckettes. It is written that the people of Siracusa, had certen Athenians prisoners, which by hart had learned some verses, out of the Greke poete Euripides, which at tymes thei applied in talke, as occasiō best serued theim, by meanes wherof onely, in th'onour of that Poete, they infranchiste theim, deliuered theim, and sent theim home into their countrie, Scipio Africa­nus, carried euermore in warre with hym, duryng his life, the Image or purtraite of the learned Ennius, and diyng ordained, that it should be fastned on his tombe, or sepulchre. Silius Italicus a worthy poet, was by meanes of Domician thrée tymes Consull in Rome, which Mer­cial recordeth in an Epigramme thus beginnyng Augu­sto [Page 125] pia thura: but what? what honour the princes of our tyme haue dooen either to Polician, Pontanus, to San­nazar and suche others, I neuer yet any where hearde a­ny thing at all. And againe to speake of others, that liue yet presently, as Ronsarde in France Belay and others, Poetes lauriate, and learned men of worthy memorie. But some will saie, they yet liue, and therefore may be aduaunced, of litle tyme and fewe yeres, though of great wisedome, and readyng, whiche all might bee compared to these, whiche longe since were, of rare wisedome, and grauitie. Mithridates also, to speake againe of our elders had Plato, for his learnyng, in suche admiration, that de­sirous to haue his purtraite or Image, caused eche wher to be sought one Silan to doe it, for that, for his excellen­cie he surpassed all others, for in those daies it was ac­compted a singuler honour, to haue in places publike, the true purtraites of the learned, neither was it lawfull to haue any of these tables, or paintynges, but of suche as had dooen some vertuous exploytes, by their wisedome and learnyng commended to the posteritie. For whiche cause the Athenians hadde the Image of Demosthenes, with a subscription of suche, and so muche honour, as ne­uer to fore had been graunted to any: it was thus of hym writen, that if the puisance of Demosthenes, hadde been suche as was his wisedome, the Kyng of Macedonie had then neuer entered into Grece. Iosephus the Iewe being brought to Rome, prisoner and captiue, amōg th'others of Hierusalem, had notwithstanding, for that he had wri­ten of the antiquitie of the Iewes, hys Image erected a­mong the others of Rome. The Athenians straungely a­gaine rauished with the singuler excellencie of Phaleri­cus auditour, and disciple of Theophrastus, did his Image to be placed in thirtie partes of their Citie. Now then if these men were in this sort honoured, it can not be gain­saide but that they also receaued salaries equiualent, to these their honors. For as Athenes writeth in his ninth [Page] booke de Sinosophistis, Aristotle for his booke de animalibus receaued of Alexander eight hundred talentes, whiche might value of our monie, four hundred, and fower score thousande frenche Crounes or there aboute, which also is verified by Plinie in his eight booke, who reporteth that Alexander so muche desired to haue this woorke fi­nished, and ended, that he sent many thousandes through out al Grece, and Asia, with his expresse letters and com­maundementes, that thei should as well be obaied as in­structed, in what so euer they sought, concerning the vse nature, manner, and custome, of beastes, foules, fishes, and suche others, to the intent they might be skilled in euerie their naturall proprieties and qualities, to the in­tent they thereof might aduertise Aristotle. If Homere the onely Phaenix of all the Greke Poetes, had happelie liued in the daies of Alexander, it is to be presumed that he would haue doen hym no lesse honour, then to Aristo­tle, for that on a tyme a certen little Cheaste beyng pre­sented to him, in whiche Darius had euer kepte his riche, and sweete ointementes, saied (verie gladde that his hap was then to haue it) that he woulde kéepe, and preserue there in a farre more precious Oile, and with the same coucheth Homeres bookes with in it, with whiche he dai­ly busied hymself, continually readyng theim. The Em­perour Traian, for his learning onely, so muche honoured the philosopher Dion, that when hee to recreate hymsef, woulde passe in to the fieldes, he did hym to be plaste by him, in his owne proper Coache, and so would enter, with hym in to Rome, in moste triumphant maner. In these warres which the'mperour Octauian had in Egypt against M. Antonius, heesaied that he had leafte to sacke and spoile Alexandria, for the only honour and renoume of Alexander that builte it, and of parte also of the Phi­losopher Arrias. The saide Emperour also, ordained Cornelius Gallus Tribune of the people, only for that he was so excellente a Poete. Snetonius in the life of Ve­spasian [Page 126] sheweth, what rewardes in the olde tyme were lotted to the learned. For though (saieth he) that this Emperour were noted of auarice, yet fauoured hee notwithstandynge learned exercises, and the lettered, and gaue to euery the maisters, or readers of the scien­ces, suche annuall stipendes, and grosse summes of mo­nie, that reducyng theim in to our monie, accordyng to the computation of Beroaldus and Budeus, eche receiued yerely twoo thousande, and fiue hundred Ducketes. By the testimonie of Plinie in his seuenth booke, writyng of Isocrates a Greke Oratour, is euident in what sorte learnyng was reuerenced: for (saieth he) this Isocrates, hauing spoken opeuly for a certain man, in recompence forth with, receaued twentie talentes, mountyng to the summe of twelue thousande frenche Crounes. It is also redde that the Emperour Antonius, soonne to Seuerus, gaue to Appian, so manie Duckettes of Golde, as there were verses in a greate booke, whiche he then had dige­sted, of the nature, and proprietie, of all kinde of fishes. Themperour Gratiā oduertised, that Ausonius the poe­te, wrote a verse with no lesse good grace, then assured facilitie, called him to the honor of a consull immediatly, then which, none was greater, sauing that of The'mpe­rour. Domiciā also, though he were otherwise, accursed, and impius, inricht with greate rewardes the Poete Eustachius, whom in the daie of his natiuitie (euen in his most pompous and curious solemnitie) he did to sitte at his owne proper table, cro [...]yng hym with baie, or law­rell, where with poetes in those daies were principally honoured. Seleyus Vasa a Poete lirique, was imbrased of the Emperour Vespasian, with curtuous, and frendly wordes euery where intertained, and in fine receaued of hym, no lesse rewardes then the other aforesaide Arrian for his history compiled by hym in Greke of the famous oxploites, of the renoumed Alexander, as also that hee was otherwise well lettered, was ordained Consull of [Page] Rome by Adrian & Antoninus. Nether were these men onely this honoured liuyng, but in like sorte also after their death, by the posteritie, as is manifest, in that Pto­lome kyng of Egypt, did to be erected both an Image, and Temple, nolesse sumptuous to Homer, thā to any other his goddes, what so euer. In Mantua also, long after his death, was erected an other, to the poete Virgil. That ex­cellent Horace, though we lesse assure our serues, of hys greate substaunce, and wealth, yet was he aduaunced to greate officies, by Octauian the Emperour. Here colde I remember you many other examples seruyng to thys purpose, but I leaue to be tedious. Now if any wil ob­iecte here that the fage Seneca, was cruelly doen to death by the wretched Nero, I answere he was a tyranne, and did it therefore besides reason, and that he liuyng was in Rome of greate worshippe and substaunce. It is a true, and auncient prouerbe, honours make the learned, and nourishe the sciences. So finde we that in the daies, of these Kynges, and Emperours, when they so fauoured the studious, and lettered, greate store was eche where founde of men wise, and learned, as when Octauian li­ued, Claudius, and Adrian, Vespasian, Antoninus, Alex­ander and others. And to speake of others that liued in these our daies, as of the Emperonr Sigismonde, Robert Kyng of Sicilia, Nicholas the fifte Bishoppe of Rome, Al­phonsus, and Mathias kinges of Naples, & Hungarie, these also of the house of Medecis in Florence: the slower of which house liueth this daie crouned in France, follow­yng the steppes, and vertues of his elders, but especially of that good kyng Frauncis, in whose tyme France so flo­rished in learnyng, that it iustly might haue béen saied an other Grece, or Athens.

That lernyng is necessarie as well vnto Princes as also to all Capitaines, that liue at any tymes in armes. Chap. 8.

[Page 127] I Mighte here remember many aun­cient histories, besides the true, and assured proofes, that Princes in times paste were for the moste parte lear­ned, as that they also knewe, that no­thynge, for fitte, or good gouerne­mente was more necessarie, then to taste, or sauour in any sorte of good letters. But for as much as these thinges are euident, plaine, and well kno­wen, I will not dwell long, or staie here much on theim. We reade not withstandyng that Philippe Kyng of Ma­donie, seyng Alexander to bee borne to hym, Aristotle then in Athens, he sent hym a letter to thys purpose no­table, recited by Plutarche, and A. Gellius, in whiche he A. Gel libr. 15. cap. 3. yeldeth his humble thankes vnto the gods, not so muche for that he hadde a sonne then borne, as for that he was borne in the daies of Aristotle: whēce it is, euen in these fewe euident, howe muche this good prince affected and desired that his sonne should be fostered in all kinde of li­trature, to th'intent he might be suche a prince and capi­taine, as was his fathers desire he should, and as he after proued, whom as sone as he was of age fit for studie, hée gaue hym (as is saide) Aristotle for maister, whom pre­sentlie he inrichte with greate and large salaries, reedi­fiing also for the loue of this his sonne, a houge and waist citie, which he to fore had raced, where he did to be builte for hym also a schole more sumptuous, and gaie, then earst had else béen sien. Antigonus also king some tymes of Macedonie, well knowyng how necessarie learnyng was for gouernmente, tickled with the renoume of the famous Zeno, a Philosopher moste excellent, & prince of the Stoikes, desired beyōd measure, to haue him at home with hym, whiche thyng he straighte attempted by let­ters, and ambassadours: whiche letters Diogenes Laer­cius in this sorte remembreth: Antigonus kyng to Zeno Philosopher gretyng: I knowe well that in riches, in the [Page] giftes of Fortune, and in suche others, like thynges of reputatiō, I farre excell, and passe thée euery waie: how be it, I gladly also confesse, that thou again exceadest me, in the true felicltie, in the studies of the artes, the scien­ces, and Philosophie. Wherefore my desire is, that thou shouldest suggeourne here with me: whiche thyng I be­seche thée graunte, and accorde me, to the ende, that I maie vse this thy desired cōpanie: whiche doyng, be thou assured, that thou shalte not onely rule, and maister me, but also shalt order, all others the Macedonians, for who so well instructeth, and ordereth well the Prince, schoo­leth with bountie, and vertue, all his subiectes: and that this is true, wee commonly dooe sée, that suche as is the kyng, suche also are his vassaules, and suche as is the ca­pitaine, suche continually are founde, and séen to bee his souldiers. These letters receiued, by this venerable Phi­losopher, he sorrowed that he could not, by meanes of his greate age, aunswere the expectation of this vertuous, and good prince, but sent hym of parte, to contente hym with all, twoo of his wiseste, and beste learned scholers, by whose industrie, he profited bothe in vertue, and lear­nyng. Aristotle in like sorte, whose auditour Alexander was, for the space of fiue full yeres, profited him, his scho­ler in suche sort, that he afterward proued a moste excel­lente, and wise prince, suche in deede, and so perfecte, as none was founde to hym comparable, throughout the whole worlde. Beyng in the middle of his armie, he ne­uer would leaue, or abandon his studie, but with his sworde did to bee saied, vnder his beddes heade, Homers Iliades, and other bookes, whiche he vsually carried. So y^t as appereth, he made equall accōpte, as well I meane of the studie of Philosophie, and good letters, as also of the conqueste of greate kyngdomes, and countries. And farther saieth Plutarche, A. Gellius, and Themistocles, that he beyng busied, aboute the conqueste of Asia, was aduertised, that Aristotle had published, certaine bookes [Page 128] of naturall Philosophie, the same in déede, whiche he had painfully tofore redde to hym: by meanes whereof, he wrote to hym in effecte, as followeth. In very truthe A­ristotle, thou haste not dooen well, in makyng common these bookes, of Philosophie, by thee composed, sor how in thine owne iudgement, maie I now surpasse others, if this now, whiche thou some tymes didste teache me, by thy meanes become common, and well knowen vnto all men? Knowe assuredly, that I more affecte to ercell others in learning, then in any the riches, or kingdomes, of the worlde. Whiche thing as sone as it was, ones vn­derstoode of Aristotle, he aunswered that his bookes, whiche he then had printed, were so intricate, obscure, and difficill, that it was impossible, for any man to profit by theim, if hymself did not firste of all expounde, and in­terprete them. Pirrhus an excellente capitaine, and kyng of the Epirotes, whiche long liued in armes, at de [...]aunce with the Romaines, who also at tymes discomfited, and vanquishte theim, not onely busied hymself, in the often readyng of the Sciences, but also published certaine boo­kes, of whiche some were written, of the policies, or pre­ceptes of warre. That whiche alsoin our tyme, hath doen that worthie personage, Gulielmus de Bellai, seigni­our of Langei. What shall we also write of Iulius Caesar, the firste Emperour, and beste capitaine that euer ledde souldiar, he no lesse profited in the studie of letters, then of armes: who firste was a studente, before he would be a souldiar, and after as occasion, or tyme, mighte serue hym, would visite the schooles, or Vniuersities, of Poe­tes, and marchyng still, or trauaillyng, would write, or reade some thyng. On a tyme beyng at Alexandria in E­gipte, the better to saue hym self, beyng in mernailous daunger, skilled in swimmyng, committed hym self to the water, through whiche he carried in one hande, the bookes, whiche he had written, giuyng others to vnder­stande, that he no lesse helde theim deare to hym, them [Page] his life, hauyng no lesse care to saue the one, then the o­ther: and what he had profited, in the studie of good lear­nyng, his commentaries, whiche he hath lefte vs suffici­ently witnes. And not onely Caesar, but all th'other Em­perours, verifie the same, whiche we here haue reported, whiche also were for the moste parte, good capitaines, and gouernors: who also when so euer thei were inricht with children, acquainted them straight, and out of hand with their bookes, prouidyng them excellente maisters, and learned men out of Grece. Very fewe knowe, what men the twoo Catoes were, how valiant in Martiall ex­ploites, what graue, and wise Philosophers. Censorinus the greate, so vowed hymself to studie, that what he was and how he profited, his writynges yet dooe witnes: he was an worthie Oratour, and well skilled in histories, vniuersally learned, in all studies, and sciēces, the Greke tongue he beganne in his olde, and stoopyng age. The o­ther surnamed Vticensis, though he were in deede lesse subtile, and sharpe witted, yet soughte he to haue with hym, suche as he could finde any where, the beste lear­ned, emong whom he retained the Philosopher Antipa­ter, and so gaue hym self totally vnto his studie, that as Cicero reporteth in his bookes de finibus, he hardely might be drawen at any tyme, from his papers, in suche sorte, that he neuer entered into the Senate, without some booke to busie hym self, if he happely might haue there so muche leasure. Scipio Africanus that triumphed ouer Hanniball, was so inamored with the study of good learnyng, that he neuer lefte to haue, the Poete Ennius with hym: and after all his warres, and triumphant vic­tories, gaue hymself moste earnestly, to continuaunce of reading. Hannibal his cōpetitor, though he were in déede of Africa, had not withstandyng his bookes, in his tentes continually with hym, neither would he in tyme of war intermit, or leaue any tyme fitte for studie, but in what place so euer he came, yea, though some daungers were [Page 129] imminent, yet would he retain with hym still, Silan and Sasilas, all bothe Lacedomoniens, by meanes whereof, he became right learned in the Greke. We haue also tofore saied, that Denis the tyranne, retained with hym the di­uine Plato for maister, and that he also helde with hym, many others well learned. Who after he was banished, and chast out of his countrie, one in derision, boldly bour­dyng with hym, demaunded in what stéede, his Philoso­phie, sometyme learned of Plato, now stoode hym. To whom he answered, that it very well then serued him, patiētly to supporte, and indure that his aduersitie. The­mistocles also that excellent capitaine, had in armes, and in studie, like, and equall pleasure, he continually confer­red with Anaxagoras the Milesian. Epaminondas with these others, capitaines of Grece, were all very studious and eloquente Oratours. Mithridates in all his warres, whiche by the space of fourtie yeres, he had continually with the Romaines, neuer lefte or forsooke, by meanes of any the force, or furie of his enemies, his wonted pain or labour in studie. He also as the others, had sunderie Philosophers with hym. Octauian Augustus assigned to hymself, certaine howers in the daie, for his studie, nei­ther lefte he that his wonte, in the tyme of warre, lea­dyng with hym to that purpose, sundrie excellent perso­nages, as Apollodorus of Pergama, the Philosopher A­sperarius, Asimius Polion, Valerius, Messala, Virgil, Oui­de, and many suche others. Before this Emperour was Lucius Lucullus, a moste excellent, and famous capitain, whiche neuer lefte, or abandoned in tyme of warre his studie, and in tyme of peace, gaue intertainment, to greet troopes of the learned. Paulus Emilius, that subdued the kyng Persius, besides that hym self, was in good letters moste excellente, did his paine to the vttereste, that his children should be like hym, so that at his incessant, and moste earnest sute, he obtained in the ende Metrodorus of the Athenians, a maister to instructe, and bryng vp his [Page] children. But to what ende name I so many here by or­der? Pompeius, Q. Fabianus the greate, M. Brutus, Traia­nus, Adrianus, M. Antonius, were all very studious, whose bookes, letters, and orations yet ertante, witnes what the men were, of what iudgement, and learnyng. In fine therefore, if I nothyng be deceiued, fewe good ca­pitaines euer were there, that were not addicted to the studie of good letters. How bee it, twoo there were of whose learnyng, wee nothyng canne finde, or reade any where, to weete, Caius Marius, and Marcus Marcellus: Marcellus neuer the lesse, as some recorde, loued, fauou­red, and defended eche where the learned, so that wée maie presume, that he also was lettered, though in deede (as is saied) we no suche thyng, haue yet founde written and yet of parte it well appereth, that he throughly was not vnlearned, by his wise defence of Archimedes, at the sackyng of Siracusa: although in déede, he yet suffered not without the greate grief, and sorrowe of Marcellus. Let then the capitaines of this our age saie, what them beste liketh, and that, to be wel lettered, is a thing lesse neces­sarie, but I to them will saie, and to suche, as that main­taine, that thei obstinatly seke to couer, their foule de­faulte, and ignoraunce. Wee reade againe that oure el­ders, in no respecte lesse estemed, the bookes of the lear­ned, then the force, or puissuance of infinite their capitai­nes, affectioned also to studie, and to learnyng, aswell re­membreth Robartus Valturinus, in his hooke, of the stra­tagemmes of warre.

¶ Of a straunge medicine, where with Faustine the wife of M. Aurelius was cured, languishing, and consumyng with infinite, and extreame passions, of vnchaste, and disloiall loue, as also of some thyn­ges remediyng the saied passions. Chapt. 9.

[Page 130] THat, that affection, or prison of the minde, whiche ordinarily wée terme by the name of loue, is a passion so ve­hement, and of so greate force, wee nede onely to consulte, but with those that haue felt it, with those I meane, whose examples are notorious, hono­rable, greate, and stately personages, whiche so farre he­rein, suffered theimselues to bee caried awaie, that some of theim haue languished, and died of that follie. Iulius Capitolinus, amōg many other examples, remembreth, that which chaunced to Faustine, doughter to Antonius, wife to the Emperour M. Aurelius, whiche became ina­mored of a certaine sworde plaier, or fensor, in such sorte that for the only desire, that she had to vse his companie, wasted, and consumed, death euen at hande with herre. Whiche thing vnderstoode, as also the cause thereof, by Aurelius, he assembled greate numbers incōtinently, as well of Phisicians, as also of Astronomers, with theim to consulte, if it were possible for some remedy. Amonge whom in fine, this was the conclusion, that the Fensor secretly should bee doen to die, of whose bloodde a good draught was presented vnto Faustine (so couertly that she nether knewe whence it was, or what) with this de­termination, that immediatly after she had receaued it, the Emperour should acquaint hymselfe in wonted ma­ner with her. This remedy as it séemeth very straunge, and meruailous, so cleane did it alter, her fonde and foo­lishe phantasie, in suche manner, that she neuer after, at any tyme remembred him, and as it is, in the saide histo­rie recorded, at that tyme he begate on her Antonius Comodus, whiche after proued so cruel, and bluddy, that he more resembled the aboue saide sworde plaier, whose blooodde the mother drancke, at the tyme of her con­ception, then the Emperour whose soonne he was, by meanes wherof also the fore saide Comodus would euer [Page] more bee conuersante, and in companie with Fensors, whiche also witneseth Eutropius in the life of this Com­modus. The Phisicians of Grece, as also of Arabia, ac­compte this disease, or torment of loue, among th'others the moste daungerous infirmities of mans bodie, proui­dyng sundry salues, & remedies therefore, for it. Cadmus the Milesian, as reciteth Suydas hath written one whole boke of the only remedies to chase & remoue loue. Ouide also hath well saide in his bookes de remedio amoris. And among other healpes, whiche the Phisicians haue pre­scribed against this franticke maladie, one is, that vnto those, troubled with these passions, greate weaghty matters, and affaires of importaunce be offered, suche as e­qually concerne both their profite, and their honour, to the intent that the minde busied aboute these matters, may alienate and straunge it self, from the imagination that offendeth: they also geue in rule, that suche shoulde abstaine from all wanton toies, of ether daintie, or dalli­yng damsels. Plinie saith that against this passion it shal Plinie lib. 13. be good to take that duste, or powdre, whereon a Mule hath in any place waltered or soiled her selfe, sprinckling or casting the same on the amorous: or as Cardanus wil in his booke of subtilties, to rubbe hym, with the sweate of a Mule heate, and well chafete. The Phisicians also learne vs, how we shall know the partie, on whom the amorous, is at any tyme inamored, and the same rule is it, by whiche Erasistratus Phisician to the king Seleucus, vnderstoode of the disordinate loue of Antiochus towar­des his mother in law, the Quéene Stratonica. For being extreame sicke, and in meruailous daunger, hauing cho­sen rather to die, then in any wise to vtter the cause of his tormentes, proceadyng of loue onely, whiche he bare to his fathers wife, who then enteryng in to the cham­ber, when the Phisician felte the pulse of his vnhappie patient, whiche so vehemently, on the soden moued, a [...] the comming of the Quéene, that Erasistratus forthwith [Page 131] perceiued, that he on her was inamored, and she the one­ly and sole cause of his grief. By meane where of he did his busie paine, in good ordre to aduertise the kyng here of, whiche matter how he handled would be long here to write, and the historie besides is well knowen, and com­mon, which thing as soone as it was once knowen to the father, seing the daunger be presently was in, if no remedie were then prouided, contented hym selfe (though it farre was beside the intention of the sonne, whiche ra­ther, did wishe, or chuse any shameful death, then by the detriment of his father, to purchase hym health) to for­goe, and leaue the Quéene, geuyng her for wife to his tormented soonne. And here also, to speake the trueth, both the age, and beautie of this dame, as also the ma­riage whiche after followed, was muche more comfor­mabie in the sonne, thê in the father. By meanes wher­of Antiochus liued many yeres afterwarde, in greate ioye, & wealth with his dearelibeloued Stratonica. The history is very pretie, written by Plutarche in the life of Demetrius, whence it is, that in suche cases, Phisicians geue in commaundement to féele the pulce of the passio­nate partie, rehearsing, and remembryng the names of many, and among theim the partie also beloued, whose name when so euer, it shall in anie sorte be vttered, the pulce of the amorous will then more busily skippe, or daunce, then at any other tyme, and this easely may you finde still the partie so beloued. By many other signes, it also is euident, either when one loueth, as also where, or whom, whiche I leaue to speake of, as sufficientlie kno­wen to all men.

Who first did sette or plante the Vine, who also did first to drike water in wine, to whom also, and how the Romaines firste af all forbadde the vse of wine, with some other thinges concernyng this purpose. Chap. 10.

[Page] OF all kinde of fruictes, whiche the yearth produceth (these I vn­derstande where of wee make ly­cors) none is so profitable in mine aduice as is the Vine, so that he be moderatlie, and with discretion v­sed. For whiche cause onely Ana­crases saide, that the Vine geueth or presenteth vnto vs thrée grapes: the first of pleasure: the seconde of dronkennesse: the thirde of teares, mour­nyng and sorrowe, in suche sorte, that who so passeth the first grape, to wete a litle wine, moderatly, and seldome, in takyng it receaueth greate shame and domage. Our prophane authors, that neuer were acquainted with, or euer hearde of the scriptures, deuise, and imagen sundry inuentors of wine. Diodorus Siculus, in his fourthe boke attributeth as well the inuention of wine, as also that he first founde to plante or sette the Vine, to Denis the soonne of Iupiter, called otherwise Bacchus, and pater li­ber, so termed for the liberty and force of wine. For whi­che cause thei dedicated to him a Temple vnder the Ca­pitoll in Rome, where were celebrated these feastes, which thei commonly called Dionisians, or Bacchanalia, verie lassiuious, and full of impudicitie. And that this in­uention was truelie attributed to this Denis, Virgil wel assureth it vs, in his firste entree, into his seconde boke of Georgikes: although Marcianus Capellus affirme that he only skilled the Gréekes to make wine. Others write that it was Icarus father of Erigonus whiche first found the meane to make wine in Athens, where after warde beyng drounke▪ was slaine of the people. In Italie they saie that Saturne there first had wine, whiche he brought from out the Isle of Candia. Plutarche writeth that Ar­ [...]us an Etruscian, enrichte Fraunce with the firste Vine that euer was there. But the trueth is that the first in­uentor of wine, was Noe, as also the first that euer was [Page 132] droncke, whiche witnes (besides that whiche is redde in the ninth of Genesis) Lactantius Firmianus and Iosephus Lac. li. 2. insti, diuinarum. Iosep. li. 1. an [...]. whiche Noe immediatly after he issued out of the Arke, planted the Vine with his owne proper handes, and drinking after, of the fructe therof, was also first drunke: in whiche that his disease sleapyng, he so discouered hym self, that, that there betided hym, which is writtē of him in Genesis. After this men léeking of this kinde of licour, drancke it at first pure, and with out water: for as recor­deth Plinie one named Stasius, was the first that did wa­ter Plinie lib. 7. cap. 5▪ 6. into wine to qualifie it. By meane whereof greate good hath followed, with the preseruation of health through out the whole worlde, for that wine so tempe­red hath his most excellent effectes. Plato by Macrobius, in his seconde booke recordeth, that wine taken mode­ratly fortifieth the vnderstandyng, it augmenteth the puissance, force, and strength, it yeldeth the harte ioious, it taketh from man all sorroufull, and pensiue imagina­tions. Plinie saieth that the honest, and resonable vse of Plinie leb. 2 [...] ▪ cap. 1. wine delaied, increaseth the force, blo [...]dde, and couler in mans face, the vaines saieth he, are strēghtned by wine, the sight sharpened, the stomake comforted, the appetite thence groweth, Vrine also prouoked, it hastneth sléepe, and disturneth Vomites, it purgeth melancolie, and re­ioiseth the harte, & in fine profiteth in many other vses. Asclepiades the Phisician hath written a whole booke, of the only vertue of wine. Sainct Paule writyng to Timo­thie counseleth hym to drinke a little wine, the better to strengthen, and comforte his stomake. The Phisicions vse wine in many their medicines, for that wine wil re­storeth health, increaseth bloodde, it offendeth not anie melancoly humours, it dissipateth and drieth [...]eame, it moisteneth and fitteth choller to be purged. Plato intro­ducing Socrates, commendeth wine saiyng, euen as rain moderate geueth increase of all hearbaege, tempe steous inundations vtterly destroiyng it: so wine with [...] [Page] ration reioiseth man, and coumforteth his spirites, but coutrariwise, in abundaunce, scorcheth, and consumeth hym. Among all other sweete, and pleasing odours, the smel also of wine is of the Philosophers commended, for that it addeth force (as is saide) to the vitall spirites, it is very subtill, and soone penetrateth: but what so euer is spoken or saide any where of wine, that still is mente of wine moderatly taken, and delaied. The auncient Ro­maines forbad the vse of wine, to women as well, as al­so to children, as hath Valerius, writyng the customes, [...]al. lib. 2. Plinie. lib. 14. & lawes of the Romaines. So that as Plime saieth, that in those daies, when Romulus raigned in Rome, a certen Citisen slewe his wife, for that she had dronke wine and although the murtherer were immediatly apprehended and taken, yet the Prince with out sute would pardon that offence. Thei estemed it a fault so greate and igno­minious, to sée a woman bouse, or drinke wine, that as Fabian reporteth, a certaine maide hauyng stolen, the kaies of a wine Seller, preuely to haue dronke or ta­sted there, of wine, was by famine done to die, euen by her owne parentes, for that faulte. For this cause men vsed to kisse women on the mouth, to féele, or perceiue, if they had drinke of wine. It is recorded, that N. Domi­cian, beyng ordained, some tymes, a iudge in Rome, de­priued a woman there of her Dourie, for that she hadde dronke more wine, then was for her health either ne­cessarie, or conuenable. Salomon in his Prouerbes prohibeteth wine, to kinges as well, as also to there counsell, for that in dronkennesse saieth he nothyng is kepte socrette, or concealed: the pore mans cause also is then not considered of, or harde iudgmente at the leaste proceadeth then against hym. We reade not with stan­dyng, that it was permitted to the kynges of Egypte, to drinke wine, but that moderatly, and by appointed mea­sures. A [...] R [...]mulus inuited to a feast, would hard­ly see, or taste an [...] wine, for [...]eth he must [...] [Page 133] I determen of a greate, and weightie matter. Auicenna saieth, that who so geueth wine to a child to drinke, hea­peth one flamyng fier on an other. Aristotle inhibiteth Arist. li. 7. pol. wine to be geuen Infantes, as also to all Nurses, that geue sucke of their bodies. Plato, by his lawes, in hys bo­kes de republica, though he séeme in the firste to aucthorise the drinkyng of wine, yet in the seconde saieth, manne must drinke little wine, wel drouned in water, and that also in no wise before he bee eightine yeres olde, in the presence continually of olde menne vntill he be fortie, to the intente that if he exceede, he receaue punishment for his excesse of theim. But after that age he permitteth, that the quantitie be of some parte augmented, to mitti­gate, or asswage the coldnes, and melancoly, of those ye­res. How be it, his minde is, that a certaine measure bee prescribed theim: farther he excludeth all seruauntes of what age so euer, iudges also, and magistrates, and such as haue offices, or charge in the weale publike. To stu­dentes also he geueth in counsell, that they sauer not of wine, and as concernyng bondmen, the same order was also, obserued of theim in Rome. Auicenna accoumpteth Plato his lawes, as good rules in Phisicke, with whom also accordeth Galene, in this matter. Alexander Aphro­diseus in his problemes affirmeth, that those, that neuer drincke, other licour then water, haue as wel their sight, as all other their senses, more sharpe, and fine, then thei that drinke continually wine. But howe to water, and ordre our wine, there are sundry rules, and opinions: Hesiodus commaundeth, that to one cuppe of wine, ye adde thrée of water: Atheneus saieth, that the auncient Gree­kes, did fiue partes of water, to be mixt commonly with twoo of wine, and some tymes) whiche more was) thrée partes of water with one of wine, which accordeth with the rule of Hesiodus. And this maie here be noted, that the Grekes neuer did to be poured water into their wine but wine continually, in small quantitie, in to their wa­ter, [Page] by meane where of Theophrastus assureth vs, that these twoo licours are more perfectly medled. And this did our elders, not onely well droune, and water their wine, but dranke there of also in very small quantitie. Eubolus the Greke Poete, bringeth in Bacchus, speaking to the Elders or Sages of that age, I will geue you to drinke of wine, but thre times at your refection, the first for health, the seconde for the good smell there of, the third to inforce sleape, how oftē so euer you more drinke, it al sauoureth of disorder, and dronkennes. Apuleus Pa­niasis, the same that wrote of the diuersitie of meates, is with the other, of one, and the same iudgement, saiynge that ye may once drinke incontinently after grace, the seconde cuppe moueth, or quickeneth in vs Venus, the thirde is cause of shame, and dishonor. Iulius Caesar verie sildome, woulde taste, or drincke of wine, which thinge Suetonius reporteth, by the testimony of Cato, the same I meane that was ennimie vnto Caesar. The excellente Demosthenes also, or fewe times, or neuer dranke of a­ny wine. Apollo Tianeus of whom so many thinges are so famously written, as hee neuer did eate any kinde of fleashe, so also did hee neuer drinke any droppe of wine. And among all Christians in these daies temperancie in drinkyng is highly commended. Saincte Iames the lesse, neuer dranke in his life ether wine or Ale, nether would he eate of any kinde of fleashe, imitating there in Sainct Ihon the Baptiste. The semblable finde we of Fulgentius the Bishoppe, of Emerys also the soonne of Steuen, kinge of Polonia. Iosephus in his antiquities highly extolleth Iosephus lib. 8. ant. that vertuous modesty of the Esseiens (whiche were one of the three sectes, that were among the Iewes, the Pha­rasies, and Saduces the other two) whiche as he saieth ne­uer dranke wine. In a certen Epistle Saincte Hierome sharpely reproueth Preestes, bousinge, or pleasinge any thing at all in wine, addyng that Sainct Paule, aduiseth theim to the contrarie, and farther saieth, that in the old [Page 134] lawe, these that had charge, or office in the Churche, ne­uer dranke either wine, or other kinde of licour, that coulde, or might force theim any waie to lightnes. Good potte men in these daies, and gallant tasters, approue their wines by these fower qualities, he must be delecta­ble in mouth, to please the taste, he must smell well and farre of, to content their riche Noses, he muste bee well coloured, pure, and neate to please the eye, and in fine it must haue his commendation of the soile, to wéete, that it came from a hoate, and high countrie: and of this good wine they quickly can make vinegar, but of the commo­dities or discōmodities herof, I presently leaue to speake more in this place.

Of infinite discommodities, whiche take their springe of wine immoderatly vsed, as also what Phisicians they were, that thought it good, and medicinable, some tymes to be dronke. Chap. 11.

THough Wine in some diseases bothe healpe and comforte na­ture, yet thence rise so manie mischiues, if it immoderatlie be taken, that the discommodi­ties thereof passe, and surmoūt the commodeties, in suche sort that it might séeme better, wée neuer had séen, or knowen it, contentyng our selues with water, whiche in the begin­nyng was onely geuen vs: of parte for that we can ima­gen nothing to be better: of parte also, that all other creatures content theim selues with the same. Consider wee All creatures saue man con­tent theim sel­ues with wa­ter. also, that by wine, sundrie haue loste the vse of their sen­ses, some their liues, some also all hope of saluation, and their soules. And although men well knowe the greate inconueniences that betide theim by wine, yet so farre [Page] of be they from any intention to eschwe it, that they no­thing so much séeke, as continuall occasions, to bouse, and drinke incessantly, in suche sorte that fewe houres in the daie may passe theim, in whiche they kisse not the cuppe, at least fiue or sixe tymes, not slightly, and for facions sake, but with staryng eyes gladly, and with right good deuotion. Plinie writeth, that where as many eftsones drinke, nether for any néede, or thirst thereto prouoking theim, that wine amōg al other licours hath this nature, or proprietie, that with ease it will be dronke, ye though you nothing nede it. But afterward it handleth those, ac­cordyng to their demerites, paiyng theim the paine, of that sinne, and excesse, the vapours thereof mountyng a­lofte in to the braine, depriuyng theim incontinentlie of the vse of eche their senses, resemblyng for the tyme, some dull and brutishe beaste, and after thei at times, by vse, haue learned well to abuse theim selues, this infirmi­tie then taketh holde and full possession of theim, and or­dereth theim as doeth the hungrie Catte the Mouse, I meane it either killeth theim, or at leaste it chargeth them with infinite discommodities, and ineuitable infir­mities, tormentes muche worse then present death in déede, as the Goute, the Palsie, both in handes and féete, the dropsie, the eies stand staring full of blooddy humors, the Liuer inflamed, the face full of fier, and verie richely coulered, the Nose ful of rubies, with many other honest and pretie commodities, of very good grace, and much to be desired. Cato saied, that dronkennes was a voluntary All creatures saue man, con­tente thē selues vvith vvater. folly: Plinie saieth, that it dulleth, and weakeneth the memory: prouoking dreames, very terrible, and fearful. Seneca writyng to Lucullus affirmeth, that it meameth and féebleth both the armes, and legges, prouokyng men to lasciuious thoughtes, and venerie. Deonisins Areopa­gita, alleageth out of Plato, drounkennes to resemble, some lustie yong daunser, whose thighes in the begin­nyng are sore, hardly able to beare hym, néedyng some [Page 135] staffe, or croache to rest, or staie on, she also is well skil­led, to alure, and drawe vnto her, with frēdly face reioy­sing, her dronken Souldiars daily. Sainct Paule writing to the Ephesians, aduertiseth theim to flie, and to forsake wine, the spring, and beginnyng of all vnchaste liuynge. Salomon also, who so drinketh wine in abundance, and excesse, neuer keepeth counsell or secrette, what so euer. Whence grewe for iuste cause, this olde, and auncient Prouerbe, wine runneth without showes, to wéete se­cretly, priuely, pleasantly, hardly séen, or perceiued, sha­mefully discoueryng mans foule, and vitious apetites. To this purpose; the Poete Eschilus also saide, that as in a glasse is sien, the true fewture of the body, so also is sien in wine, the affections of the minde. Plato saieth that wine maketh plaine, and euidente demonstration of the manners, and conditions of all menne. Hence haue wee good exāples, in Noe both and in Loth: for the one beyng dronke, discouered his secrete partes, whence he became infamous to al men: and Sodome against Loth had at all no powre, whom wine notwithstandyng, not hardly af­ter conquired, blindyng hym, to abuse his owne naturall doughter. Beholde here the fructes then and forces of wine. Among the lawes of Solon, one of the seuen wise men, or sages of Grece, it was ordained, that what prince so euer, was founde or knowen dronke, should therefore immediatly be executed to death. Pitacus also decréed, an other of the saied sages, that who so beyng dronke, com­mitted any offence, shoulde assuredly receiue double pu­nishement there fore, once for the trespas, and fault by hym committed, and the seconde tyme for his dronken­nes, the cause of the wrong doen. Aristotle in his proble­mes geueth a reason, why such as are geuen to wine, are lesse able in the acte of generation: as also an other, why among suche as are dronke, some be pleasant, some sory, some ioyous, some terrible. Some Phisicians also are there, among whom I onely remember Auicenna, and [Page] Rasis, whiche affirme it to be a thyng very medicinable, and holsome, at times to be dronke, though not ordinari­ly, and commonly: but their reasons, wherfore, nothing at all content me, by meanes whereof, I vtterly refuce to be of their opinion. And where as diuers honourable personages haue been subiect to wine, had they assuredly forsaken, that there wonted vse in bousing, their glory, and renoume had so muche been the greater. Alexander y^e greate was taxed of this vice, so that as some good wri­ters, haue least vs plainly of hym, he did in these his cup­pes, sundry his frendes to death, and afterwarde repen­ting him, of that his rage, and malice, would for reuenge haue slaine also hym selfe, and surely it maie be thought, that by meanes of these hys tyrannies, he in the ende al­so was traitrously impoisoned. Marcus Antonius, one of the three pillers of the Romaine empire, hauyng espou­sed the sister of Octauian, pleasing to muche, as the other also in wine, cōsequently acquainted himself with Cleo­patra Quéene of Egypte, by meanes where of in fine, hee both lost his life, and also the empire, first vanquished by wine, and after by Octauian. The Emperour Tiberius, as in hym were many, and sundry greate defaultes, yet none so much annoied hym, as that he to much loued ex­cesse of wine, & drinking, whēce in place of his name Ti­berius, was eftsones in derision, of many called Biberius, endyng at the laste an infortunate and wretched miser. Denis the yonger, tyranne of Sicilia, so much was geuen to excessiue drinking, that he became blinde, in both eies vnprofitable. Cleomedes King of the Spartiens, practising to immitate the Scithians in bousing, and did so valiant­ly by his lusty quaffing, that he proued in the ende, a sen­lis, and lothsum monster. It is reported that the Philo­sopher Archesilas died of dronkennes, and no other ma­ladie. The Poete Anacreon was also a greate drinker, and in drinkyng was chockte with the Pepin of a grape, whiche entered by the wrong waie or passage through [Page 136] hys throate. The Bishoppe Flauius, renoumed for his learning, reporteth that Bonosus so pleased in wine, that Aurelius would saie of him, that he was not borne to liue but to drinke: and herein he farre exceaded all others, for when so euer he dranke, or els in what quantie, he neuer thence was séen, or drounke, or lesse aduised. But it maie be supposed, that he paste it againe in vrine, as fast as he receiued it, how be it in the ende, he escaped not the pain of his excesse, and malice, for that beeyng vanquished of Probus, was in moste shamefull, and lothsome maner hāged. Some also write, that the king Antiochus, which was, maugre his bearde, subdued by the Romaines, so muche giuen, to strong wines, and feasting, that he spent the greater parte of his tyme in sleapyng: by meanes whereof, he committed almoste the whole gouernment of the Empire, to twoo his chosen, and very trustie dear­ [...]yn̄ges, hymself banquettyng, and disportyng still, with a certaine yonge damosell, so that when after he should mete in field with the Romaines, his armie was straight disordered, & he an effeminate captiue. Eschilus the poete also did please in drincke, by meanes whereof Sophocles left not to saie vnto hym, Eschilus these thynges, that thou hast saied, and doen, haue onely paste thée by happe, and by fortune, and by no knowledge that thou haste, or ought that thou vnderstandest.

¶ Of certaine greate personages, whiche died, called hēce by those, whiche before them selues, vniustly had caused to be executed, euen in the instante, and tyme to them assigned, as also some what of the Archebishoppe of Magonce or Ments. Chap. 12.

WHen the aide of man faileth those, to whom by man some wrong, and grief is doen, God assuredly notwithstandyng, neuer leaueth to assiste theim: and although it chaunce not at suche tymes, so sone, and so apertly, as [Page] percase some would, or could in harte desire, yet God that knoweth when, and howe, he shoulde auenge hym, on those that haue vniustly opprest, or wronged the innocente, so woorketh that at tymes suche tre­cheries come to lighte, and eke mannes falce iudgemen­tes, to his heauie condemnation. Whereof wée could re­member many true, & straunge examples, emong which we reade of a certaine knight, of the house of the Tem­pliers, executed as is supposed, very vniustly: this knight an Italian, borne in Naples, beholding as he paste to the place of execution, Pope Clement the fifte of that name, aduaunced in a windowe, as pleasyng in this spectacle, whiche onely did this sentence, to passe againste hym wrongfully, and nigh to hym Philippe, surnamed Bel­lus, kyng then of Fraunce, saied to hym with a high, and loude voice incontinently: O thou cruell, and merci­les Clement, for as muche as in the worlde, none other iudge is, to whom, from thy vniust sentence, I might ap­peale, I appeale yet from thée, and from thy greate iniu­stice, vnto him that all séeth, that true, and vpright iudge Iesus Christe the rightuous, before whom I thee asso­men, as also the kyng there (at whose sute, thou hast sen­tensed me to death) to appere in persone bothe, before his tribunall seate, there to receiue, as ye by me haue deser­ued, without fauour, or perciallitie, without respecte of persones, and that also within the space, of one yere fol­lowyng. And so it came to passe, that as he there had ci­ted them, the Pope died, iuste at the tyme appoincted, as also the kyng to holde theother companie. Whiche thing assuredly, onely proceded, from the inscrutable iudgemē ­tes, and iustice of God. The semblable also happened, to Ferdinande the fowerth kyng of Castile, whiche also did to death, twoo other worthie knightes, of pretensed ma­lice, not hauyng any shadowe, or pretexte at all of iustice whom no sorowfull teares, or often supplications could, or might deliuer, from the blouddie miser. In fine there­fore [Page 137] arrestyng, without more, on this extremitie, cited the king in like maner, as before, within thirtie daies fo­lowng, to appere before that iudge, the laste of whiche in déede, he made chaunge of life for death, and so departed hence. Suche was the happe also, of a capitain, of certain gallies, of the toune of Genua, of whiche Baptista Fulgo­sius, in this sorte reporteth, that he tooke a little Boate, or Barke of Catelongna, in whiche also was an other, or capitaine, or gentleman, which neuer had dooen to the in­habitātes of Genua any wrōg, or iniurie, neuerthelesse, for that priuate malice, y^t this Capitaine of Genua, bare to the Catelanes, cōmaunded that he should incōtinently be hanged, who mournfully besought hym, not to do him that, or any so greate vilanie, for that he neuer had of­fended, nor hym, ne yet his countrie, but findyng in the ende no kinde of grace, or fauour, his laste recourse was vnto the diuine Iustice, saiyng to this cruell, and to this merciles capitain. that sith he nedes would take his life, for no cause from hym, that he then presently appealed, for iustice vnto God, assummonyng also hym, with hym that daie to appere, before the Iudiciall seate, or throne of the moste highest, to yelde to hym accompt, of that his greate iniustice, in whiche same daie as the others, this capitain also died and past to plaide his cause, in the true courte in deede of iustice, where as well maie bee presu­med, suche was his rewarde, as his tretcherie had deser­ued. I could here longer dwell, in others like to these, but for a finall example, I will one, onely, more, remember you, no lesse perchaunce straunge, then very true, and certaine, whiche happened at Magonce in Almaignie, troublyng, & disorderyng the whole state of that citie, as briefly remembreth Gontier the Poete, in his descriptiō of the life, and geastes of Fredericke the Emperour, the firste of that name, as he recordeth. The bishoppe Con­tadus in his historie also recordeth it, as also Henry the sixte, soonne to the saied Fredericke. In this fore saied [Page] toune then, of Ments, or Magonce, in the yere of our Lorde a thousande, a hundred, fiftie, or some thyng more, there dwelte an Archebishop, who had to name Henrie, a man for his vertues, of all men eche where renoumed: this Archebishoppe then as became a good pastour, pu­nished synne, and vice seuerely, with a speciall regard to his flocke, and charge, true seruaunte vnto GOD, and friende vnto his neighbour: by occasion whereof, some li­bertines, and enemies of Gods honour, beganne to ma­lice, & to enuie his estate and conditiō, so that he was ac­cused of euill demanure before the Pope, and saied to bée lesse worthie, of suche an office, or honour, chargyng him with many open, and slaunderous infamies, whiche vn­derstoode by the Pope, although in trouthe, he thought hym to bee bothe iuste, and vertuous, yet would he not deny audience, to those that craued it, and hauyng heard their plaint, aduertised thereof incontinently the Arch­bishop. By meanes whereof, the better, to discharge, and pourge hym, he chose out emong his friendes, suche a one as he loued moste, for whom also he had doen, more then for any other, this was a Prieste, or Prelate, and had to name Arnoulde, highly aduaunced, to sundrie dignities, by the bishop. This Arnoulde now was riche, eloquent, and learned, and beyng entered into Rome, suborned by the deuill, determined on a sodaine, to depriue his lorde, and maister, inrichyng hym self with that honour, if it were possible: whiche thyng the better to accomplishe, with greate summes of money, he corrupted twoo impi­ous, and twoo accursed Cardinalles, before whom (to the hearyng of this cause deputed) in place to haue spokē the truthe, as bothe faithe, and loialtie willed, he vttered a­gainste hym, what so he fasly could imagine, saiyng, that he more stode bounde to god, & to the truthe, then in any wise he was, or could be vnto man, and therefore muste nedes confesse, that the bishop in deede was suche, as he to be was accused: by meanes whereof, the Pope, as ab­used [Page 138] by this Arnoulde, sente vnto Magonce, these twoo honeste Cardinalles, there to depriue, and remoue the Archebishope, whiche beyng arriued, caused by prorses this good manne to appere before theim, whose matter was there in suche order handeled, that sentence was there in fine pronounced againste hym, depriued of that honour, and of that postorall dignitie, in whose rome this Arnoulde, was presently then substituted, whiche so had solde his maister, as Iudas did our sauiour: at which sen­tence vttered, the Archebishop saied, God knoweth that I am vniustly here condemned, how bee it, I minde not to appeale from this your sentence, for that I surely knowe, that you soner shal be credited though liers, then I in truthe, wherefore I receiue this sentence, a punish­mente for my synnes, appealyng neuer the lesse from you, vnto the eternall Iudge, before whom, I assomon you all three to appere, at whiche woordes, these Prela­tes burste out into a laughter, saiyng: that when so he wente before, thei incontinently would followe hym. This chaunsed in the yere of mannes redemption, a thousande, a hundred, fiftie and sixe, whiche wronge this good priest tooke verie paciently, withdrawyng hymself into a certain monasterie, where he obserued the straite rules of that order, without any coule, or habite religi­ous. But to conclude, God neuer long permitteth suche tretcherie, and iniustice any where vnpunished, to the intente especially, that the innocencie of the iuste, might the better alwaies be knowen. One yere and a halfe af­ter this, this Henry died very vertuously in his Abbey, mountyng straight into heauen, as maie well bee presu­med. Newes hereof was broughte, and of his death to Rome, whereat these twoo Cardinalles, foorthwith be­gan to ieaste, either chargyng other, to séeke and searche out the Archebishop according as thei had promised. And beholde immediatly, or within very fewe daies after­ward, the one of them was so brused, by mishappe of his [Page] owne seruaunte, that his bowelles, and intrailes burste out at his foundment. The other fel madde incontinent­ly in suche extremitie, that he brake his bones, eatyng, and deuouryng his owne wretched carrion, and as con­cernyng Arnoulde, in recompence of his disloialtie, and sedicious tumultes, whiche he moste carefully fostered eche where emong the people, he became so odious, and lothsome to the multitude, that about that tyme, thei al­so inuironed hym, shutte vp into a monasterie, where in fine thei tooke hym, and mangled him most miserablie, castyng his carriō into the diche of the citie, where it laie full thrée daies followyng, all the people, as well womē, as menne, doyng to it, though dedde, the moste villanie that was possible,

¶ Of a pretie guile practised by a vertuous, and good Quene, towardes her housebande, by meanes where of, I ames Kyng of Aragon was begotten, and of his birthe, and death. Chapt. 13.

IN the old Chronicles, or annales of A­ragon, it is recorded, that the Lorde Peter Counte of Barcelon, after­ward by succession, the seuenth kyng of Aragon, receiued in marriage the ladie Marie, doughter to the Earle of Mont Pesulin, nephue to the Em­perour of Constantinople, a ladie no lesse faire, then ver­tuous, and honest. The kyng notwithstādyng, who plea­sed muche in varietie of concubines, and therefore lesse forste of this faire, and vertuous ladie, not vsyng her cō ­panie, as reason woulde he should haue dooen, ministred to her occasion, of greate annoye, and sorrowe, and espe­cially for that, the kyng had then no issue to inherite, and succede, in that kyngdome after hym. Wherfore by the [Page 139] meanes, of one, of the kynges owne Chamberlaines, whiche also perhaps, had serued hym in other suche like affaires, she was conueighed vnto him, though vnder the pretexte, and name of an other, where hauyng vsed his companie, to her full contentation, and the kyng percei­uyng, that it drewe towardes daie, commaunded her to withdrawe her self, for the sauyng of his honour: but she saied, my housebande, and my lorde, I am none suche as you suppose me to be, but am your wife, your obediente, and your lawfull bedfellowe, dooe me what paine, or sorrowe, shall beste like you, for assuredly I will not de­parte out from your companie, before you doe to bee cal­led, some one of sufficient credite, that maie if neede bee, witnes, that I alone this night, was with you, and with none other, to the intent, that if it please God, to graunt me, to be with childe by you, whiche is my sole, and one­ly desire, that the worlde then maie knowe, that it also is yours. The kyng consideryng of her honest guile, was (though in deede he thought, that he had been serued o­therwise) contented to fatisfie that her expectation, and did to bée there of witnesses, twoo honest, and sober gen­tlemē. Now so it came to passe, that this vertuous dame, within shorte tyme after, knewe well she had conceiued, and at the terme by accompte, well aunsweryng to this purpose, was deliuered of a soonne, the firste daie of Fe­bruarie, in the yere of our Lorde, a thousande, a hundred ninetie, and sixe, whiche as sone as he was borne, the Quéene commaunded immediatly, that he should be car­ried to the Churche, and incontinently as thei (whiche is to be considered) to whom this charge, was carefully cō ­mitted, were on the point of entrie into the Churche, or Temple, the priestes assuredly lesse wetyng of any suche matter, began to syng Te deum laudamus, in moste so­lemne maner. And thence departing afterward with the saied childe, vnto an other Churche, thei also not knowe­yng of any such gehaste commyng, euen as he entred be­ganne [Page] that Psalme of Benedictus dominus deus Israel, whiche was a meruailous signe, and assured presage, of the great vertue, and bountie, that should be in the yong prince. And the Kyng and Quéene, not knowyng now what name thei beste might giue hym, did to bee lighted twelue Torches of equall length, and bignes, lottyng to euery of theim, the name of an Apostle, with this deter­mination, that the name of that Torche, that first should be consumed, should be giuen to this Prince, for name at his Baptisme: and the first that failed, was that of sainct Iames. So afterward then baptised, thei gaue hym Ia­mes to name, he was an excellente Prince, in peace no lesse wise then valiaunte, and fortunate in all affaires of warre. His inuasions, and incursions were terrible a­gainst the Mores, he was large, and liberall at all tymes to his souldiars: and emong others his notable attemp­tes, he leuiyng on a tyme a greate, and grosse armie, past into the Isle of Maiorque, whiche then was onely inhabited of the Mores, where he foughte many, bothe bloudie, and daungerous battailes, but after he there long had besieged their principall citie, in th'ende wonne it, as all the other Isles adioignyng nigh vnto it, and in fine subdued all the other Mores, as also the citie of Car­thage it self. He had many children, as well soonnes, as doughters, whiche all while he liued, he aduaunsed to greate and mearueilous honours. The Prince Peter was after hym kyng also of Aragon, Iames kyng of the Isles Maiorque, and Minorque, his thirde soonne was Archebishop of Toledo, the ladie Yollant, was espoused to the kyng of Castile, the ladie Isabeau, to the kyng of Fraūce, the ladie Vrroque, to the lorde Emanuel prince also of Castile, and the prince Peter in his fathers daies espoused the doughter of the kyng of Nauar. This kyng liued seuentie and twoo yeres, and died then vertuously, and in his death bedde chose to him, the habite of a religi­ous man, renounsyng his kyngdome, and his roiall scep­ter, [Page 140] with assured determination, if he euer had recouered of that maladie, to haue imploied the residue of his daies in the sole seruice, and veneration of God: but his paines growyng, and doublyng continually, he gaue ouer vnto nature, in the towne of Valence, in the yere of our lorde God, a thousande, twoo hundred, sixtie and sixe, in the be­ginnyng of the moneth of August.

¶ Of an aunciente and straunge custome, obserued by the inhabitauntes, of the Prouince of Carinthia, at the coronation of their prince: as also how thei sharp­ly punished thieues. Chapt. 14.

POpe Pius, the seconde of that name, a manne no lesse learned, then painfull, and still busied in aunciente histories, when he li­ued, reporteth in his Cosmogra­phie, or description of the worlde that the prouince of Carinthia is inclosed, within the territorie, and seignorie of Austria, & saieth that the inhabitauntes there, at the coronation of their prince, vsed a very straunge, and pretie custome, whiche also is remembred by A. Sabellicus in his tenth Decade, as also by Sebastianus Munsterus, in his newe Cosmo­graphie. In this Prouince of Carinthia, there is a greate plaine, of very olde, and ruinous bulidynges, as if the were the steppes, or monumētes of some auncient citie, in whiche also standeth a certaine greate stone, where­vpon (at the coronation of their newe duke, the daie and tyme appointed) a housebande man, or labourer inconti­nently ascendeth, vnto whom that office by inheritance belongeth. On his right hande standeth, nigh to hym a blacke Cowe: and on his left, a lame, a weake, and an ill [Page] fauored Mare. Rounde about the stone, standeth a great heape of clounes, or countrie carels. Then commeth the Duke on, with a greate noumber on horsebacke, all in very good, and in decent order, hauyng twelue ensignes borne there before them, of which one is more large, and more apparent then the others, whiche is borne by a cer­taine Earle there, by especiall priueledge: so now appro­cheth this Archduke, cladde like a shepherd, vnto y^e stone, where as is plaste this carell, who incontinentlie crieth out with a loude and haute voice, demaunding what hée might be, that cometh in such pompous, & in such proude arraie? to whom the others aunswere, that stande there about hym, he is the Prince, and gouernour of this coun­trie. Then thundereth out this vilaine, as harde as he maie possiblie: is he a iudge rightuous? will he doe iustice to all men? will he seke the aduauncement, and commo­ditie of the countrie? will he defende it, and saue it from the enemie? Is he a free man, and of a free house borne? Is he valiante, and worthie of honour? Is he a true chri­stian man, and will he defende the faithe? Thei all aun­swere yea, he is, and euer shall be. Then beginneth he a­gaine a freashe to demaunde: by what right maie he dis­possesse me of this place? Then aunswereth the Earle, that bare that beste enseigne, thou shalt receiue for this thy place, sixtie Duckettes of golde, this Cowe also, and Mare, in like sort shall be thine, also the Princes roabe, whiche he laste of al did of, finally thy familie, and kinne shall all bee free, from all kinde of taxes, or paimentes, what soeuer. This carell then giueth the Prince, a small buffette on the cheke, admonishing him to be an vpright, and a vertuous Iudge, and so leauyng the stone, giueth place vnto the duke, carriyng thence with him his cowe, and his Mare. Then alighteth the Duke from his horse, and goeth vp on the stone, where hauyng a sworde na­ked in his hande, brandishyng it, tourneth to euery parte of the stone, promisyng to minister true, and indifferent [Page 141] iustice to all men. This dooen, one bringeth hym water to drinke, out of a poore labourers, or housebandmannes cappe, whereof hauyng tasted, he descendeth incontinen­tly, thereby makyng shewe, that he vtterly condemneth th'use of wine. Then taketh he his horse again, and with hym all his companie, passyng thence to some Churche, where thei heare Masse, after whiche he dispoileth hym self, of his ragde, and ill fauoured robes, puttyng on hym apparell of Princely estate, and honour, then dineth he, and his nobilitie, in moste sumptuous maner, after whi­che he retourneth to the saied stone againe, hearyng the complaintes, and greifes of all men, doyng them iustice, without percialitie. And these are the Ceremonies ob­serued, in the creation of this Duke. An other custome haue thei, in the punishyng of thefte, whiche is no lesse cruell, then in truthe vniuste, especially to be vsed emōg christian men: for hauing any small suspition, or surmise in this case, against any man, thei doe hym immediately to death, without any farther triall, and the third daie af­ter, thei examine the witnesses, & al suche as can in that case giue euidence, as diligently, and as straitely as thei can possibly: so as if that in th'ende, he in déede be thereof founde culpable, then hangeth he on the gibbotte, vntill he rotte of by peeces: but contrary wise, if thei finde him innocente, then take thei hym thence, honouryng hym with glorious, and with solemne obsequies, with many praiers also, & almose, for his soules health. And as those of Carinthia, dealte this straightly with their Thieues, so also some other Countries, haue dooen their paine to foster theim, as the Egiptians, of whom A. Gel. con­cernyng Lib. 11. nocti. Atticarum. this matter writeth. Also the Lacedemoniens, whiche permitted their children to robbe, and steale eue­ry where, to the intent thei might bee the more hardie, and apte there to in warre. How bee it Draco, that gaue lawes to the Atheniens, ordeined that all kinde of theft what so euer, should be punished with none other paine, [Page] then death: by meanes whereof, Solon after saied, that he had written that his lawe with blood, whiche he mi­tigated, doyng it to be more easie, and fauourable. That maner, whiche nowe is ordinarily eche where vsed, to hang, or to strangle thieues on the gibbotte, was first or­dained [...]y the Emperour Frederike the thirde, as wri­teth that famous, and excellent L. Viues, in the seuenth booke of his disciplines.

¶ In what parte of the Zodiacke the Sunne, and the Moone, as also the other Planettes, were in the crea­tion of the worlde, and when the first were made, of the beginnyng also of yeres, and tymes. Chapt. 15.

AS saieth the Philosopher, man natu­rally is curious to searche, & to knowe thynges, and there to bendeth he his full force, and indeuour, lesse conten­tyng him self with these thinges, whi­che onely concerne hym, but farther he toileth with meruailous presump­tion, to haue some feelyng, of thynges impossible, or at leaste very difficill. Neither hath this his labour, been all together in vaine, though it some times haue also fai­led, of the desired ende, for that by incessante contempla­tion, and continuall studie, sunderie thynges haue been founde out, whiche semed bothe supernaturall, and im­possible, as the motions of the heauens, the true course bothe of starres, and Planetes, their influences, and for­ces, with others the like, and semblable: emong whiche is also comprised, that whiche I now muste speake of, to wete, in what tyme of the yere, and in what daie, the worlde firste beganne, or to speake it better, when, or at what season, God firste created the worlde: where tyme [...]irste began, and the yere to be accompted, in what place [Page 142] the Sunne was, when he first began his course, the Moon also with the other Planettes, Aristotle as with hym, many other Philosophers, paste these scruples, accoump­tyng neuer on them, not tasting at all, or sauouring of our faith, demyng that the worlde had béen in deede eternall, neuer to haue begun, or, neuer to haue endyng: but these others, that were not ignoraunt of these thynges, know­yng by iuste accompte, when the worlde firste did begin, are deuided into twoo sundrie, and cōtray opinions. Some emong theim saied, that in that verie instante, when the worlde first was created, the Sunne was precisely in the firste degree of Aries, whiche was aequinoctium Vernale whiche happened at that tyme, in the eleuenth of March. But others again contrary, that the world had his begin­nyng, the Sunne beyng founde directly, in the first of Li­bra, whiche tyme wee call aequinoctium Autumnale, and commonly chaunseth in the thirtenth, or fowertenth of September. And of this opinion, were certaine Egiptiēs, Arabies, and Grekes, as recordeth Linconiensis, in a cer­tain treatise of his, dedicated to Pope Clement, and Vin­centius in his mirrour historiall. Those that rested on this opinion, for their proofe vsed this reason, whiche howe weake it is, and what smalle shewe of trothe it hath, shall bee here after, in place conueniente saied: For saie thei, all fruites on the yearth were ripe now, and in their perfection, the yearth of verie necessitie, was then also moste perfecte, alledgyng for their proofe, these woordes Deute. 32. out of Deuteronomie, God in the beginnyng made al thinges absolute, and perfecte. Others some againe affirme, that then was the firste beginnyng, bothe of tymes, and yeres, when the daie was of moste howers, and at his longeste, whiche is at the entrie of the Sunne into Can­cer, aboute the eleuenth, or twelueth of Iune. Iulius Fir­micus, an aucthour aunciente. and of greate aucthoritie in Astronomie, saieth in the beginnyng of his thirde booke, that in the firste creation of the worlde, the Sonne was [Page] in the fiftenth degrée of Leo, in whiche signe he hath his greateste dignitie, or honour, especially for that it is ter­med, the house of the Sunne, and in this sorte discourseth he of the other Planetes. But the moste reasonable opi­nion of all others, and moste agrean [...]e assuredly vnto the truthe, is that, when bothe the worlde, and the heauens, were first made, the Sunne was then founde in the first pointe of Aries, whiche mighte bee in the Monethe of Marche, the Somer then beginnyng to come, and growe on. Whiche assertion (besides other likelihoodes, that we also shall remember) is also confirmed by the moste parte of auncient writers, as well Christians, as also Heathēs, emong whiche, we finde Sainct Hierome, Ambrose, and Basill, with others, whiche all togither accorde, that the firste beginnyng was, as is aboue saied, in aequinoctio ve­ris. And although it might appeare, that there was yet some little difference betwixte them, for that some will, that this woorke was wrought in Marche, but some a lit­tle after, in the Monethe of Aprill. Yet here on thei well agree, that it was in the Spring, as also in the Equinoxe whiche presently is in Marche, for, as is saied, the Equi­noxe is not euer firme. For Christ hymself died the .xxv. daie of Marche, and at that time, was the daie, euen with the night, and now this equation, is but about the eleuēth of Marche, whence it well maie be presumed, that in the beginnyng, it was in Aprill. For whiche cause some, ac­compted Aprill for the first monethe, other some March, & yet thei all wil saie, that then this frame was wrought when that the Sunne firste entered into the signe of A­ries, and that then is this Equinoxe, whiche well is pro­ued by the scriptures, where it is saied, that in the Mo­nethe Nisan, whiche with vs is Marche, the yere began to haue his first daie of accompte. Vincent also in the be­ginnyng Exodus. 12. of his mirrour historiall saieth, that the aunciēt Hebrues, beganne their yere in the Monethe of Marche, for that then was the Equinoxe, saieth he, whence, and [Page 143] from whiche tyme, the worlde tooke his beginning. Cer­tain Gentiles also, defende, and maintain, with like care this opinion, as Elpaco in his treatise, written of Astro­logie, where he saieth that the Chaldeans, excellente A­stronomers, supposed that the firste daie, in whiche the worlde was created, the Sunne entered into the first de­gree of Aries, whiche opinion is maintained of most part of Astronomers, as well aunciente, as newe, and late writers. When then the Sunne was founde in that poincte, then also was the beginnyng of the yere: then al­so the firste daie, for before that was none other, neither can it bee denied, but that the firste daie that was made, was also the firste daie in the accoumpt of yeres, for that before it was neither tyme, or yeres. For whiche cause onely, this signe of Aries, is of all the others reckened the first, and foremoste. And who so will iudge, and diuine of thynges to come, he erecteth his figures, calculatyng con­tinually, from that fore saied poincte, or beginnyng of the worlde. And farther it is plain, by an euident coniecture, that God when he first created the wide, & wast worlde, that he then also plaste the Sunne (as is saied) in Aries, as maie well be gathered of that, whiche is fore saied, in the chapiter, of the daie and tyme, in whiche our sauiour suffered, to wete, that this Planete was in that place, in the creatiō, that he also was in at the regeneration, whē Christ hymself suffered his death, and his passion, which happened, as is there saied, in this Equinoxe, so often to fore remembred. It also semeth credible, that it therfore was so, for that those that haue any felyng in the sphere, or otherwise in Astronomie, shall well perceiue, that the Sunne beyng entered into this signe of Aries, makyng Or in the con­trary poincte the firste of Libra. there his reuolution, by the space of one whole daie, no corner is on the yearth, whiche he in that daie ones, lea­ueth, or to comforte, or solace, with his presence, whiche at no tyme chaunseth in any other poinctes of the Zo­diake, for that where soeuer he els bee, some place is on [Page] the yeareh, where the Sunne is not in that daie séen: but beyng in this degree (as is saied) or in his opposite, no parte of the worlde is there, whiche in that daie, ones seeth hym not. And it semeth reasonable, that the Sūne when he firste of all beganne his circuite, that he there, and in suche place should beginne, where he might visite euery the partes of the whole worlde, and that, that, ra­ther should bee, in the firste of Aries, then of Libra, it of parte is euidente by that, whiche wee haue saied, that in the daie of the death, or Passion of our sauiour, this Pla­net was in that verie same place, in whiche he also hath a certain perticuler dignitie. Restyng then on this poinct as on a truthe assured, thei doubtles are deceiued, that imagined the worlde firste beganne, in the Equinoxe of September, though it pleased theim to saie, that then all fruites were ripe, and in season, whiche if we well consi­der, is nothyng so in deede: for when thei are ripe in the Northe parte of the worlde, thei nothyng at all, then are so in the Southe, but in verie truthe, and assuredlie the contrary. For whiche cause, I neither would leane to the opinion of those, whiche saied, that in this Equinoxe of Marche (whiche is in the same beginnyng, whiche we in deede approue) was, or ought to bee, the entrie therefore of the worlde, for that then, & at that tyme is the spring, for that flowers also, and grasse eche where then begin to come that then also all beastes, acquainte them with their matche, for if it be to vs, as it can not be gainsaied, the commyng and beginnyng of all graine, and grasse, it then is Winter, or at the leaste Autumne, to these that inhabite the Southe partes of the worlde. These then maie suffice, with the aucthorities aboue remembred, to satisfie and contente, the reasonable in this matter al­though the yere Romaine, whiche onely now is vsed, take his beginnyng of the firste daie of Ianuarie: whiche thyng happened by the fonde deuotion, and superstition onely, whiche the Gentiles vsed towardes their God Ia­nus, [Page 144] doing their yere to beginne by his name, as the chri­stians did theirs, from the natiuitie of Christe, although then in deede, the yere had not his beginnyng. The Ro­maines also beganne their yere in Marche, as writeth M. Varro, and Macrobius in his firste booke, Ouide also in Fastis, with many others. Farther GOD shewed to vs his greate fauour, and goodnes, in that it pleased hym, to place our firste parentes, Eue and Adam, in these Septen­trionall partes of the worlde, after their exile, and detru­tion out of Paradise terrestriall, whiche bothe entered in­to this worlde, at the firste commyng of the Spryng, fin­dyng the yearth then greene, and flowred, the aire verie swete; temperate; and pleasaunte, the better to solas, and comforte them in their miserie; and nakednesse, whiche at none other tyme of the yere, could so well haue chaunsed them. But passe we this matter now, as sufficiently pro­ued; and speake we of the other Planetes, especially of the Moone, as one emong the others of moste force, and ver­tue, whiche as some suppose in the firste daie, or instaunte of her creation, was placed by diuine prouidence, in con­iunction with the Sunne: others saie that she was then at full, and in direct opposition Sainct Augustine cōmenting on the fifte of Genesis, remembreth bothe, these remem­bered opinions, saiyng: that thei that maintaine, that she then was in opposition, argue that it was not reason, in that her firste creation, that she either should lacke, or bée defectuous in any thyng. The others saie that it is more credible, that she in coniunction beganne there her firste daie, so increasyng, accordyng to our accompte in her age: but to abridge this controuersie, in myne opinion, she at her first beyng was in plaine, and perfecte oppositiō with the Sunne, whiche opinion is moste receiued of the lear­ned. Augustine in the place aboue alledged, and Rabanus also on the twelueth of Exodus, arrest them bothe on this opinion, accordyng with that whiche is redde in the scrip­tures, where as it is saied, that God made twoo excellent [Page] lightes, the one to lende comforte, and brightnes to the daie, the other and the lesse, to shine in the night. But in that instant it self, when the Sunne first appered, he gaue light on the sodaine, to the one halfe of the worlde, so that in that halfe, it presently was daie, the other beyng darck, and couered with the shadowe of the yearth. How bee it, it semeth reasonable, that on that other moitie of the earth, cladde as is saied with the night, and darknes, the Moone there should doe her charge, and office, in illightnyng it, so as thei bothe were created at one, and the same instant, so thei bothe also might execute their office at one instante, the one giuyng light, and solace to the daie, the other not obscuryng, or darkenyng the night, euenso, and in suche sorte, as hath in deede the texte, for then was verified that parte of scripture, the whole worlde through lightened, bothe on the one side, and the other. And contrarywise, if the Moone then had been founde in coniuction, then this common light could not haue chaunsed, vntil fiftene daies after, and farther three, or fower daies muste also firste haue paste, before her light could haue béen seen, or percei­ued any where, and the same should haue been a verie small light also, as that whiche we see, when she fower, or fiue daies is of age. Wherefore these two in conclusion as­suredly, gaue light to the whole worlde, at one instante in the heginnyng. And againe I saie, the Moone then beyng in opposition with the Sunne, of necessitie had her beyng then in the contrary signe, in Libra, which thing thus stā ­dyng, she executed that daie, the effectes of the Sunne, vi­sityng euery parte of the worlde, in that one daies course, whiche to haue doen had been then impossible, hadde she been plaste in any other parte of the Zodiake, by meanes whereof this opinion hath more plaine, and more euident shewe of truthe, though Iulius Firmicus gladly would in­ferre, that this Planette in her firste creation, founde her firste place, in the fiftenth of Cancer, where in deede, she hath her greatest dignities, of whiche opinion is also Ma­crobius [Page 145] in his firste booke de somnio Scipionis. As con­cernyng the other Planettes, it should bee more difficill for me to vtter herein a truthe, then in any respecte profi­table, to hym that would faine knowe it, for which cause I leaue to dwell here on, in many. How bee it Iulius Fir­micus, in his seconde booke alleaged, hardeneth hym self to assigne them their places, in whiche at the firste, euery of them was, as Saturnꝰ in Capricorno, Iupiter in Sagita­rio. Marsin Scorpione, Venus in Libra, Mercurius in Vir­gine, whiche are the signes, in whiche thei haue greateste force, and dignitie, signes appoincted to these Planettes, sor their houses. Of whiche mynde herein, is also Elpacus, as well remembreth Ioannes Agricanus, in his summa­rie intituled Agricane. Macrobius also in his booke aboue alleaged De somnio Scipionis, accordeth plainly with Iu­lius Firmicus, who lotteth to them, the same signes aboue remembred: although others some haue supposed the con­trary, and that thei all in that instante, were in coniuncti­on with the Sunne, whiche opinion the Mouncke walte­rus, in his treatise of the ages of the worlde, affirmeth that the aunciente Indiens helde for most assured. But in truthe I suppose, that GOD. so plaste, and ordered these starres, eche one in his place distaunte, and seuered from other, not méetyng in any coniunction with the Sunne, to the intent that euery of them in that firste daie, might with his glitteryng beames, giue light vnto the yearth, whiche had béen impossible for them to haue dooen, if thei had béen in coniunctiō with the Sūne, for that being nigh vnto hym, within the space, I meane, of certaine degrées, he so couereth, and drouneth their little light, that thei or hardly, or not at all might haue béen séen from the yearth But how, or in what sorte, so euer it were beyng created, and framed, accordyng to the will, and pleasure of GOD it sufficeth, saieth Saincte Augustine, that thei were by hym in any sorte perfected, and framed.

That men maie take example of Birdes, Wormes, and other creatures, to liue a iust, and a vertuous life. Chap. 16.

AS we haue, aboue by occasion, some thing spokē of these creatures, though to some other intent, and purpose, so nowe shall wee breflie, and in fewe speake, how their example maie bee profitable, to mans bodie no lesse, then to his vnderstandyng and minde. For assuredly who so diligently and attentiuely, will consi­der as well the nature, as the properties also of beastes, he thence shall not onelie take good instructions of life, for the better preseruation, and maintenaūce of the bo­die, but lessons also to frame, and perfect his maners. Whence is it that manne liueth not in peace with his neighbour, seyng the ametie, and concorde, of beastes to­gether, how they accompanie, and ioigne in one, in euery kinde, defending theim selues to their vtterest, from the force of any other? How is it, that man shameth not, to liue a trifelyng, and an idle loyterer, consideryng howe painfully and busely the poore Ante toileth, in the somer gathering her prouision and store for the winter? What subiectes are thei that doe not true seruice and honour to their Prince, consideryng the true loue, and obedience, of the litle Bée towardes her soueraigne? Why take not these publike weales, whiche haue no Prince, but liue in cōmon, example to liue quietly, with out grudge, or mutinie, of the foresaide litle antes, whiche dwell to­gether in greate multitudes, with good order, doyng iu­stice, eche one, to the other? And Princes on the other side, why also aduise they theim not, with what lenitie, and curtesie, they ought still to vse their subiectes especi­ally when thei behold the Kyng of the Bées, for no cause to greue or offende any of the others? Greate Persona­ges, [Page 146] and noble men, maie learne an example of humility by the Camell, whiche then stoopeth, and kneleth when he shall be charged. The good and loyall husbande, may learne to schole himself, in the rules of chastitie, by bir­des, by the Turtell I meane and by the Doue, whiche both, the male, as well as also the female, for none other cause then death, what so euer, seuer or disioigne, hauing once acquainted theim selues together. Farther it is al­so written of the Turtle, that hauyng once loast by anie occasion her mate, that she neuer after chuseth, or lot­teth to her any other. Saincte Ambrose counseleth all vertuous widowes to imitate this example of continen­cie in the Turtle. And here in most beastes excéede vs in perfection: among whom, as sone as the femal hath once conceaued, she neuer séeketh or desireth againe, the male in long tyme after. They also serue vs for examples in temperancie, for commonly thei wil eate no more then nature asketh, ne sléepe they more, then necessitie requi­reth. To defende maintaine, and well to order our hou­ses, to be merie, and liberall towardes our famely, and charge, the Cocke well instructeth vs in this place with his example: for he geueth out again of his owne mouth meate to his hennes, and farther to cherishe, and keepe theim, leaueth not to expose hymselfe to euerie kinde of daunger. The greate obligation of all children to war­des their parentes, and in what sorte thei ought, both to serue, and succour theim, the Storke most plainlie, and most euidētly she weth vs, whiche lodge in their neastes, foster, and prouide for, their olde, their weake, and their foible parentes, as thei by them were fostered and fedde in their youth. Why shameth not man to fainte through feare or timiditie, consideryng the Lions prowis, and inuincible courage? Faithe, amitie, with the perpetuall recordation or memory of a good turne, reast, or dwell cōtinually in the dogge, whiche neuer forgetteh his mai­ster, whom he hath serued, loueth, and falloweth hym, [Page] neuer leauyng to be thanckful, for y^e breade, that he hath receiued. Man that would profite hymselfe, by the vse of an other mannes goodes, without his hurte, or domage, must so there in learne to ordre and beare hym selfe, as doth the litle Bée whiche draweth Honie out of the flo­wers without offēce, or annoy, in any wise doen to them. The order and meane that man shoulde vse, for the pre­seruation of his health, is not only geuen vs of one beast, but sufficiently of many, which knowe what foode may annoie, or greue theim, chaungyng from place to place, as occasion, and tyme of the yere requireth, inhabityng places agreyng to their complexion, and nature, passyng man here in, as also in all other thinges. Whie refuseth manne to learne, and to be instructed in these thinges, of whiche he is ignorant, hauyng vnderstandyng, and eue­ry his senses? Whie leaueth he any thing lesse assaide, or vnatempted? the Elephante practiseth that which is taught hym, the Dogge by paine becommeth skilfull in many thinges, and the birde in fine by long watche, is taught to prate, or to speake. Who so hireth the Night­tingale with her diuersitie of notes, eake also manie o­ther birdes like pleasaunt and sweete, how is it that he lesse pleaseth in the skille of musike? Why practiseth not manne to bee exquisite in all kinde of buildynges, consi­deryng how artificially the litle Swallowe frameth to her a lodgyng, with what diuersitie of matter she forti­fieth, and strenghneth it? What better proportion is v­sed in Geometrie, then that whiche vseth the litle poore Spider? what Astrologian diuineth better of the chaūge of weather then doth the Ante, or the fishe which is cal­led Vranoscopos (as hath Galen) whose eye so standeth, Vranoscopos a fishe hauyng but one eye. that the euermore loketh vpwardes. Why prognosticate not men, and why iudge thei not of these matters? How many other excellencies, and perfections are in beastes, of whiche menne haue some learned, and daily yet do le­arne? The firste inuention to make holes, or passages [Page 147] through the yerth, as also the firste knowledge of that place to be habitable, manne receaued at the beginnyng from the Badger and the Foxe The maner, and facion, to twist and make silke, man hath learned, and receaued of the little worme, whiche in latine is called commonly Seres, by meanes whereof we now twist woll and other thinges. After this of the Spider, manne also learned to spinne thréede, and of hym to make Nettes, to deceaue, and take birdes. Of beastes also hath manne learned to swimme in the water: for no one is there of them, that swimmeth not, but mā naturally vnapte therto, by long paine some thing profiteth there in. Howe we by theim are skilled: in some experimētes in phisicke, is els where saide, as also some what, of the alteration, and chaunge of the weather: and yet on theim féede we onely, in our necessitie, and hunger, in suche sorte that I knowe not howe we possibly might leaue theim. Of their skinne, heare, and wolle we frame to vs apparel, from straunge countries thei bring to vs, what so we haue néede of, and being so necessarie, force man there to seke theim. They labour, and turne the earth, whēce we reape our breade and most parte of other fruictes, so that they be the chefe staie, and sustentation of mans life, and althogh thei bee ouerlaboured by vs, beaten, and hardly vsed, yet neuer leaue thei to be obedient, to knowe, and to followe vs. In battaile oftentimes, they not onely fight, but die for vs, and in tyme of peace, they serue in euerie our vses. But speake we now how thei profite, the minde, or the soule, a matter, then the other of greater weight, and impor­tance. Now whence then shall man, take better, or more examples, for vertuous life, or perfection in maners, thē he may from many, and sundry kindes of beastes? All these vertues, which philosophers haue so carefully leaft vs, are founded on similitudes, and parables of beastes: Oratours to perswade drawe from theim comparisons, as also all others that haue well, and eligantly written. [Page] GOD hymselfe, and his sainctes, moste vsually in holy wréete, and most commonly instructe vs, by the maners and conditions, of rude, and brute beastes, leadyng vs to perfection, and integritie of life, willyng manne to bée prudent, as is the Serpent, simple also as is the Doue, meke and gentle as is the Lambe, strong again and con­stante as is the Lion. This then by the examples, of mute, and dull beastes, we are taught to be men resona­ble, and spirituall. We also finde many offices, and esta­tes of the Churche, applied, and compared to beastes, ac­cordyng to their propertie. By the Oxe (as hath Sainct Augustine, on the seconde of Ihon) are signified these that publishe, and preache, the sacred scriptures. And ac­cordyng to this interpretation saithe he, the Prophetes, and the Apostles, were reputed as Oxen, but suche as did labour, and husebande our soules, sowyng, and plantyng in theim, the true worde of God. Saincte Paule, and also Salomon in his prouerbes saieth: thou shalt not mousell the mouth of the Oxe that trauaileth. The holy doctours and preachers of the woorde, whiche with their lawes, and doctrine, gouerne, and defende the Churche are efte­sones termed by the name of Dogges, whiche Saincte Gregorie affirmeth, writyng on these woordes of Iob: Quorum nō dignabar patres ponere cū canibus gregis mei. The same Saincte Gregorie, also moueth vs to a contempla­tiue life, if not for other cause, yet by y^t sole example, and imitation of the goate, which continually climeth vppe, in to high and haute places, passyng as it were there hys tyme in contemplation, vtteryng to that purpose these woordes of Leuiticus: out of the troope lette the Goate be offered. And againe he saieth that the true preachers should imitate the Cocke, groundyng on these wordes of Iob, where he saieth: who hath geuen intelligence to the Cocke? adding, that as the Cocke, so preache they, in the darkenes, and in the shaddowe of this life, the light and cōforte, of the life to come, wakyng vs with their admo­nitions, [Page 148] and remouing vs from sleape, criyng and saiyng continually with Saincte Paule, the night is paste, and the daie at hande. And an other saieth, it is tyme that we arise, and forgeate againe to sleape, looke abrode ye iust, and sinne not. The true, the holy, and the immaculate Churche, is semblably campared also to a Doue, for as hath Salamon in Canticis, O how faire, and beautifull art thou, O thy eyes, the eyes of a very Doue. Farther we sée, that of fower Euangelistes, thrée of theim were fi­gured by three beastes. If I woulde dwell longer in thys matter, I should haue muche to doe, and should parcase wearie also the reader. But aboue all other examples, that of our sauiour, and redemour, Iesus Christe is nota­ble, whiche also woulde be figured by a beaste, as is eui­dent by Sainct Ihon, in his Apocalypse saiyng: the Lion of the race of [...]uda is victorious. And Dauid in his Psal­mes saieth, he is raised as a Liō: with many such others long to remember: as S. Matthewe where he saieth, O Hierusalem, Hierusalē, how often times would I haue ga­thered thy children together, euen as the Henne clocketh her Chickens vnder her winges but thou wouleest not. Euen so then as Christe compareth his workes, to the properties of beastes, so shall man doe well to receaue instructions by theim, the better thence to frame, and more vertuously his life. And on the other side what shame and infamie is it to man, to see howe beastes per­fectly followe euery one their nature, & man the sole and onely creature, that sauereth of reason, so much abuseth that superexcellent gifte lente hym: for he who onely should honour God most, offendenth stil his maiestie far aboue al the others, neglectyng, and abusing his graces continually: in suche sorte that some beastes there are, of whom man should rather take example, then of some men that liue presently among vs: for more feling haue they of iustice, and lesse offende they in euerie respecte, then man which knoweth, or should do, what is his due­tie. [Page] And therfore saith god by the mouth of Esaie, the Oxe knoweth his lorde and maister, the Asse also her Cribbe or Maunger: but Israel knoweth him not, nether will his people vnderstande hym.

Why triumphes were first vsed in Rome, as againe how many they were, that there also triumphed, what a Triumphe is, and that there is twoo sortes of theim. Chap. 17.

MOrally to speake, and after the maner of man, two thinges principally moue vs to attempte greate and dangerous affaires, in peace as well, as also in warre. The firste is renoume, and ho­nour, the second none other, then vti­litie, and gaine. The noble harte, and valiaunt courage chiefly desireth, and affecteth the first, the minde abiecte, base, and vngentle, gréedily hunteth for gaine, and saliry. Cicero in an oration of his pro Ar­chia poeta, saieth, that we all are drawen with desire of commendation, and who so in déede is most famous, and honorable, is most, and aboue others stirred there with, demaunding none other paiment, or guerdon, of his ver­tue, then onely glory, and praise of the people. The same Cicero againe in an other pro Milone, saieth, that the true, wise, and valiaunt gentleman, so muche toileth not at all for wage, and gaine, as he doeth for honour, which followeth his paines. Whiche thing well considered by the auncient Romaines, they assuredly more sought then all other nations, besides their salary, to honour, and ex­tolle, with all kinde of reuerence, suche as had doen any notable, and vertuous exploites. In suche sorte, that in shorte time was found in Rome, more store of excellent Capitaines, and prudent gouernours, then in any other [Page 149] place, through the worlde whatsoeuer, by meanes wher­of thei after got the vniuersall empire. For which cause, aswell for exāple of this tyme present, as also to content the curious in antiquities, I thought it good in this place, to discourse of the true order, & maner, which the Romai­nes vsed, in giuyng fame, & renoume, to their capitaines victorious. And for that emong al other honours, the tri­umph was the greatest, we will there begin, letting the reader to vnderstande, that a triūphe was a forme of en­trie, or welcome into Rome, doen to y^e capitain generall, with moste pōpe, & solēnitie, that was possible to be doen in any wise to man: & although these triūphes wer much vsed in Rome, yet wer thei not the first inuentors of thē For Diodorus Siculus, & Plinie saie, that Denis, of the an­tiquitie, Diod. Sic. li. 6. Plinie lib. 2. called Dionis, or other wise pater liber, was the first that euer triūphed in the world. It semeth also that the people of Carthage, vsed some tymes in like sorte to triumphe: for as Iustine recordeth, emong other thynges that were writtē of Hasdrubal, he fower tymes in his life triumphed magnifically. We in maner semblable reade, of the triumphes of the kinges of Egipt, but principally of the kynge Sosestris. How be it to speake here in truely, these triumphes were neuer els where so solemnized, as they were at tymes in Rome, for on that daie, that any Capitaine there triumphed, the whole multitude ceste from euery kinde of labour, as not lawfull for theim at that tyme to do any thing what so euer. The inhabitan­tes then of euery the townes adiacent, came runnyng to Rome, to beholde this spectacle: then was all the citie ouer, the Temples, the gates, and the streates, yea and the windowes hangde eche where with clothe of Golde and of Siluer, with silkes, with boughes, with flowers o­doriferus, and with all other costly, and sumptuous sigh­tes possible, which might geue any token, or note of ioie. The Senate, the Préestes, and Nobilitie of Rome, with al the other citisens that were of any countinance, went [Page] out into the fieldes honorably appareled, to receaue hym that triumphed then entryng into Rome, all clad in pur­ple, and crouned with Laurel, moūted in a coache of gold, drawē with iiij. white stedes. All the captiues marchyng before hym, attired as bond men, with their heades sha­uen: and the generall, or kyng hym self, that was at that tyme taken, went nighest before the coache of any one other. His owne Souldiars entred the Citie in good or­der, euery of theim hauyng in his hand a Laurell. Before hym also paste other Chariotes, or Waggons all char­ged with armour taken from the ennimie, & with theim also past all the treasure, and plate that he had gotten, as well of Siluer, as of Golde, all the money, and Iuels of what sort so euer, and with the same also, but a parte, al giftes and presentes, that he had receaued of any prin­ces or cities, frendes, or assistātes to the people of Rome. Before hym also paste, greate Castels, Fortresses, and Engines of warre, most skilfully framed, or facioned in woodde, representyng the tounes, and holdes that he had rased: and in marching made shewes, and countenances of battaile, but especially of suche, as had chaunsed theim in that voiage, doone in suche sorte, and so representyng the thing in deede, that it made theim to tremble that attentiuely behelde it. And these shewes were ordinari­ly so many, and so diuers, that the triumphe commonlie continued full three daies, to the intente that all these thinges might orderly be doen. In euery triumphe were many straunge inuentions (as showes, and pageantes) with others the semblable long here to remember. Ne­ther was it lawfull vnto all capitaines, ne yet for all vi­ctories, what so euer, to triumphe, but certaine notable lawes, and customes were established, for which onely, and for none other, the triumphe was graunted. The ca­pitaine that demaunded that honour, entered not at the firste in to Rome, but the Senate woulde sende hym an aunswere thereof vnto Vatican, to wéete, whether they [Page 150] woulde licence hym to triumphe or not. Firste no gene­ral, or other capitaine, of what condition so euer he were mighte at any tyme triumphe, were he not a Consul, Proconsul, or Dictator, for the triumphe was neuer graunted to man of meaner condition, by meanes wher­of it was denied to M. Mercellus, that most victoriouslie conquired, and subdued Siracusa, as also to Scipio that o­uerranne all Spain. Againe to the obtainyng of this fore saide honor, it was also requisite, that the battaile fought with the ennimy should be greate, and daungerous, and that there should be slaine therin, a boue fiue thousande. Of these thinges writeth Valerius Maximus. It is also written, that Cato, and L. Marius tribunes, ordained a lawe, to dooe sharpe, and seueare, animaduertion on all Capitaines that should make false report of the number slaine. Neither was it sufficient to winde the battaile, were it neuer so blooddy and dangerous: but he also must make tributory, and subiect the whole prouince, leauyng it quiet, and in peace to his successor, bringing also home with hym his army victorious. For which cause as Liuie recordeth, the triumphe was denied to Titus Manlius, though in truthe he hadde obtained greate victories in Spaine, for that after him thei were forced to ouerrunne the countrie againe, to wage newe battaile, to kepe by force, and defende that whiche before was gotten. For this cause also Quintus Fabius the greate, triumphed not, though in deede he once had subdued all Cāpagna, as also recordeth Valerius Maximus. It also was the maner that he that triumphed, should inuite to hym that might, the Consuls to supper, which they vtterly (suche was the maner) refused, for that, at that feaste, was at no time a­nie, to whom greater honour was doen then to the tri­umpher. These triumphes were euer ended in the tem­ple of Iupiter, with in the Capitoll, where he offered vp the whole spoile whiche he had taken from the ennimie, where also (for greater solemnization) publicke assemble [Page] was then made. And to the intente that this Capitaine shoulde not glory to muche of this honour doen to hym, it is reported that a bonde man should that day be placed by hym, to whom it was permitted to skoffe, and deride hym, in suche sorte, and manner, as it beste should like hym, where of sundry examples are found in olde histo­ries. But to make more plaine this kinde of triumphe if it be possible, we wil remember some, but first of al that, of Paulus Aemilius, a capitaine Romaine, moste famous, and valiaunte, to whom, for that he had subdued, and ta­ken Persius king of Macedonie, vtterly spoilyng, and wa­styng his countrie, the triumphe was graunted, by com­mon suffrage of all men, who as Plutarche reciteth, tri­umphed in this maner. First of all, the inhabitantes of Rome, as well as of other places nigh adiacente, were that daie seen in their most sumptuous, and riche attire, euery of them indeuouring to place himself, in some too­tyng hole, or windowe, the better, and with more ease, to beholde this spectacle. All the temples in Rome, were on euery side open, hangde, and apparelied, with moste cost­ly furniture, with grene boughes, & perfumes, of no smal value, the streates also were like gaie, and glorious. And for that the multitude of people in the citie, was then in­finite, as well of straungers, as also of others, a number of sticklers was appoincted, to make through the strea­tes, easie waie, and passage, and for that the diuersitie of shewes, were suche, and so many, necessitie constrained them, to parte them into three daies: the first hardly suf­ficed, in good order to bryng in the banners, standardes, and ensignes of the conquered, the Colossi, Images, and tables of price, whiche all were brought in on cartes, ve­rie curiously depainted, and trimmed. On the second daie came in the armour of the kyng conquered, as also of all th'other Macedomens, whiche as thei were riche, bright, and glitteryng, so were thei with moste cunnyng to the she we ordered, and couched on cartes. After these cartes [Page 151] entered three thousande men in order, bearyng nothyng but money open, and to bee seen, and that in houge char­gers, and vesselles of siluer, waighyng euery one three talentes at the leaste, of whiche were three hundred and fiftie in noumber, fower menne lotted to euery vessell. The others, the residue I meane of this three thousand) brought in cundites streming, most artificially wrought with other plate all siluer, no lesse faire, then massie, and in passyng of these companies, in iuste and semely order, thei ended the second daie in most pompous solemnitie. The thirde daie, euen in the breake, or spryng thereof, with the firste band entered (a ioyous signe of conquest) infinite flutes, drommes, trumpettes, with others suche like Martiall, and warlike instrumentes, soundyng all togither, not delicately, or swetely, but in moste terrible and cruell maner that was possible, in suche sort, as thei presently should ioigne in battaile: and after them came an hundreth and twentie Kine, all white, hauyng their hornes curiously gilted, their bodies couered with cer­tain riche vailes, whiche thei accompted as sacred or ho­lie, bearyng also garlandes of flowers on their heddes, driuen by certaine yonge boies, no lesse well fauoured, then curiously attired, to the place where thei should bee to their goddes Sacrificed, after whom also, came other children againe, charged with greate platers of gold, and siluer for the Sacrifice. After these came others againe, seuentie and seuen, whiche in vesselles of golde, carried all the gold that thei had gathered in coigne: after whom came then thei, that carried the greate gobblet, poisyng fully tenne talentes of gold, whiche Paulus Aemilius had dooen to be made, sette also, and inrichte with stones of rare price: and thei that bare these vessels of golde, were suche as were nighest, and beste beloued of these kinges, to wete, of Antigonus. Seleucus, and other kynges of Macedonie, and especially of Persius the honourableste of them. After this followed the couche of the kynge con­quered, [Page] with his owne proper armour laied a parte to be seen, his diademe, or croune, with his scepter roiall, laied in semely order, to the vewe, vpon his armour. After his coache came prisoners on foote, the little infauntes, his owne naturall children, and followyng theim, a greate troope of his seruauntes, and officers, as maisters of the houshold secretaries, vshers, comptrollers, chamberlai­nes, with others suche of his courte, or familie, all wee­pyng and wailyng, in maner so dolorous, seyng them sel­ues brought nowe into suche seruitude, and extremitie, that thei moued to compassion, all suche as beheld them. Of the kynges children there were twoo boies, and one maide, of age yet then so yonge, and tēder, that thei were lesse capable of their infortune, and miserie, by meanes whereof the people were more moued to pitie, sorrowe­yng in straunge maner, to see them in that miserie. In this triumphe, then followed the father, his owne childrē after the vsage of his countrie, cladde all in blacke, who marchte by his countenaunce all amased, and fearfull, as in deede he had good cause, his presente estate considered. Then followed the kyng, sundrie of his approued frien­des, which beholding in that plight, their vnhappie prince brake out into teares, and sighes, so bitterly, that the Ro­maines themselues, be wepte that their infortunacie. Af­ter these folowed one, carriyng certain diademes, whiche some auncient cities in Grece, had presented vnto Aemi­lius, who immediatly followed in persone triumphantly, mounted in a chariotte, appareiled with purple Tissue, hauyng a bough of Laurell in his hande, with a croune al­so of thesame on his hedde, whom followed his owne sol­diours, bothe foote menne, and horse menne, all armed in moste decente order, holdyng also eche of them a Laurell bough in his hande, their ensiegnes, and banners soldiour like displaied, syngyng delicate songes, in the honour of their capitaine triumphyng, with many other like mat­ters moste roiall, and magnificent. This then was the [Page 152] order of Aemilius his triumphe in Rome. Th'others for the most parte followed also this order, addyng or dimi­nishyng some fewe thinges as best liked theim, and laste of all offered vppe the spoile or bootie, in the temple of Iu­piter with in the Capitoll, where in suche forme and ma­ner, as their vaine religion required, they gaue thankes to their Gods, for their victorie obtained. And although in this sorte thei commonly obserued their triumphes, yet were there certaine lawes, that of parte limited the ma­ner of these triumphes, and that accordyng to the deme­rites of the triumphant, makyng distinction, and diffe­rence both of the stréetes and gates whereat thei should enter, the tymes also, by the Senate were appointed theim, but as touchyng all other thnyges, as shewes, plaies, bankettes, and suche others, it was lawfull for e­uery man accordong to his apetite, to inriche, and beauti­fie his triūphe, as best pleased him: and as for his Coache he also vsed that, as was to hym best semyng, for it is eui­dent that some drewe them with fower white horses, o­thers some with bulles. The greate Pompe when he tri­umphed for his victories in Africa, he entered Rome, hys Chariote trained with Elephantes. Suetonius recordeth that when Caesar triūphed, he entred Rome, drawne with fortie Elephantes: in mauer semblable came in the Em­perour Gordian also. And as Flauius writeth the Empe­rour Aurelius whiche in like maner was also king of the Gothes, had his Coache triumphant drawen with wilde Hartes: M. Antonius also with Lions. The Romaine ca­pitaines farther vsually accustomed, to haue euermore in their triumphant Coache with theim, one childe verie yong; or some tymes more: whiche Cicero well remem­bereth in his oration pro Murena. Some also broughte with theim, from the place where thei conquired infinite numbers of straunge and sauage beastes, as Lions, Oun­ces, Beares, Tigers, Rinocerons, Panthers, Droma­daries, Elephantes, with many such others, as did Titus [Page] and Vespasian, as recordeth Iosephus. Other some also entered, with most diuersitie of musicke that was possi­ble, vsing as well their instrumentes, as their voices, with inspekable others, suche harmonious delectotions: among all which triumphes, some were more exquisite, and more absolute thē the others, as those of Pompe, and Caesar, these also of the two Scipioes, brothers, and in fine these of the Emperours, whereof Blondus remembereth in his booke, de Roma triumphante: and as writeth Pau­lus Orosius, there triumphed in Rome at sundrie tymes, thrée hundred, and twenty famous Capitaines, the laste of whiche all was the Emperour Probus, in whose time the Empire firste beganne to decline. There was also v­sed in Rome an other kinde of welcome, or solemne re­ceauyng, whiche was some thing lesse costly, and lesse ho­nourable then the triumphe, whiche they termed, or cal­led an ouation, which as A. Gellius recordeth, was graū ­ted vnto Capitaines for their victories, then I saie, when some one thinge or other failed in theim, so that they might not by their cōstitutions demande the triumphe: as for example, if the Capitaine were nether Consul, or Proconsul, or had conquired at his pleasure without any daungerous resistance, or for that the battaile was lesse cruell and blooddy, or for that he had subdued a people bar­barous, and of small reputation, or that the warre was enterprised, without expresse commaundement from the Senate, or for other suche like, and semblable causes. So that in place then of the triumphe, this Ouation was graunted theim, whiche was in suche sorte as followeth. The Capitaine entered Rome on horse backe, in steade of a Coach, and some also at the firste came in on foote, A. Gellius lib. 6 cap. 6. noct. At. crouned with hearbes, whiche were offered vnto Venus for that these victories were rather estemed venerius, then Martial. Neither entered the souldiars of these capi­taines armed, ne yet sounded they any Trompette, or Dromme which might geue or force some Martial noise, [Page 153] but vsed onely flutes, vials, and others, swete, & musicall instrumentes. How be it, thei brought with them in opē she we their praie, or bootie, the Senate meting thē with­out the citie in the fieldes, feastyng, praising, and cōmen­dyng them merueilously, whiche honour (though in déede farre inferiour to th'other) sundry honorable personages hath both yet sought, & accepted it. The firste that in this sorte was receaued in to Rome, was Posthumius Liber­tus, for his victorie obtained against the Sabines, and next Marcus Marcellus, for his victorie in Siracusa. Suetonius writeth, that Octauianꝰ Caesar, entered Rome also with this petie triumph post bella Philippica, and his other war­res in Sicilie. Plinie writeth that there were sundry Ca­pitaines, to whom the triumphe beyng denied, conten­ted theimselues notwithstandyng with this kinde of O­uation. The cause why this little triumphe was termed by this name, was for that the sacrifice whiche the Ca­pitaine did, or offered that daie, was of a sheepe, whiche may in latin be called Ouis, but thei that triumphed offe­red a Bull, so that from this worde Ouis, came that other of Ouation, their welcome, or ioious receauyng in to Rome againe. Others saie that it tooke his beginnyng of that voice of y^e people Oe, or other wise Oue, but for that Or it might be saied to rise of the latin word Ouo, whiche is to reioice. Whence also is deriued Ouatio and frō thence this Ouation. to reste here on is a matter of lesse importance, let it suf­fice that thei called it an Ouation, whether it tooke his denomination, ether of that first latin worde Ouis, or els of that other Oe, or Oue. It farther was permitted to all Capitaines triumphant, that thei should sette vppe their Images, in all Temples, and common places, that they should erect at their pleasure any Columnes, or pillours, geuyng theim the name of Pillours triumphant, builte of Marble, workyng in theim, in moste curious manner possible, euery their battailes, and victories, to their per­petuall renoume, and honour, a shewe of whiche, is yet this daie to be seen in Rome. Whiche thinges thei firste did, followyng, the Trophees of the Grekes, whiche also [Page] were doen in suche sorte as followeth. In the very same place, where any Capitaine, obtained the victory against his ennimy, he did to be set vp there a greate, and houge tree, cuttyng from the same, all his armes, or boughes, fastnyng to the stocke, the armure of the vanquished, to his perpetuall honour, and renoume, and this called thei a Trophe, of that Greke word Tropi, whiche may signifie conuertion, flight, or retraite, for that in that place, the ennimy was put to flight: and this with these Trophes, the Romaines first acquainted theimselues, for as Salust writeth, Pompe on a time hauyng vāquished the Spani­ardes, plaste his trophes, on the toppes, of the moūtaines Pirenei, whiche vsage by tracte of tyme, grewe after into suche estimation, that thei made them of stone, wronght artificially. How bee it, this thyng semeth to bee of more antiquitie, and that other nations also before the Grekes vsed it, for it is redde in the fiftenth Chapiter of the firste booke of the Kynges, that Saul hauing vanquished Agag King of the Amalachites, came after to mounte Carmell, where he erected an arche triumphall, in the onely re­membrance, and memorie of his victories. To conclude the honour of a triumphe was suche, and so estimed, that no one other was so much desired in Rome, so that their Capitaines refused no paine, no perill, or daunger, howe greate, or what soeuer, so that in fine thei might attaine to that inestimable honour. Besides, these Capitaines that thus triumphed, became merueilous riche, by the spoiles of the conquered, to theim also were geuen, great presentes by their frēdes: which I onely to this purpose, in this place would remember, that princes might hence learne, how to recompense, and reward their capitaines, and other soldiars what so euer, accordyng to their deser­tes: for commonly in these daies, the daintie coward, and nise Carpette man, is more largely considered of, then those that imploie, both their gooddes, and their liues, in the seruice of the Prince, and defence of their countrie.

¶ What names the Romaine capitaines gained by their victories. Chapt. 18.

THe capitaines of Rome, were yet be­sides their triumphes, in an other lort honoured, to wete, by names, and sur­names giuen them, of the people, and prouinces, whiche thei had conquered, and subdued, whiche assuredly was no small recompēce, for their worthy de­merits. Somtimes thei also gat additiōs to their names for their onely prowes, or courage in armes, whēce sun­drie families in Rome grewe, moste famous, and hono­rable. First we maie speake of the thre Metelli, of which the one (as hath Saluste, & besides him others) for hauyng vanquished the kyng Iugurthe, and conquered his coun­trie, and all the territories of Numidia, was called Nu­midicus. The other Quintus Metellus, for his victorie ob­tained againste the kyng of Macedonie, was surnamed Macedonicus, and the laste Creticus, for that he subdued the Isle of Crete. Before these were Marcius Coriolanus and Sergius Fidenatus, of which the first gatte that name, for that he subdued to the Romaines, the citie Corialis, the seconde, for that he brought Tributorie Fidena in I­talie. And finally an other Metellus was there named Balearicus, for that he subdued to the Romaine Empire, the Isles Baleares, whiche other wise haue this daie to name Maiorque, and Minorque, with the others adioy­nyng to theim. Lucius Numius, was surnamed Acaicus, for that he conquered Acaia, and Corinthe. Brutus also for that he subdued the Gaules, receiued in recompence, the name of Gaulois. The twoo Scipioes brothers, were also honoured with the names, of twoo sundrie nations, by them vanquished, and subdued: the one Africanus, the other Asiaticus, for that he bothe conquered Antioche, [Page] and Asia, and was the firste that euer brought, any Ro­maine ensiegne into Asia. After this the other Scipio, sonne to Paulus Aemelius (of whose triumph aboue some thyng is saied) and nephewe by adoption, vnto the greate Scipio, was also as th'other, surnamed Africanus, for that he bothe assailed, and wōne, the riche, and famous citie of Carthage. He also receiued for like guerdon, the name of Numantinus, or Numāticus, whiche was to hym no lesse honour, then the other, for hauyng sackte Numantia in Spaine. It is also readde, that Emperours themselues ioied, in the names of tounes, and places by them con­quered, vysyng thesame euer more, in their letters Pa­tentes, and other instrumentes, as did Seuerus, and after hym his successours: as for the conqueste of Arabia, Par­thia, Armenia, Germania, and others, the one named himself Arabicus, an other Parthicus, an other againe Arme­nicus, Germanicus, and Asiaticus, eche honouryng hymself, with his victories obtained. For other causes also, y^t Romaines, at times gained like names of honor, as Mar­cus Manlius, who for that he defended the Capitoll from the violente force of the Frenche men, gained the name of Capitolinus. The familie of the Toroquates, receiued firste that name, for that o [...] of them toke by force from the necke of his enemie, a chaine, or coller, in Latin tor­ques. Q. Fabius the greate, who for his delaies, and dali­aunce vsed with Hannibal, deliueryng by the same mea­nes also his countrie, was surnamed afterwardes Cunctator: For this cause he also was called the Targette of Rome, whiche turned hym to great aduantage, and ho­nor. Marcus Marcellus, which liued also at thesame time, for his valiaunte prowes, and courage, and continuance in stel [...]e, still againste his enemie, was in fine called the knife, or sworde of Hanniball. That excellente capitaine Silas, though he were cruel, was not withstādyng for his happie victories, surnamed Fortunate. Pompe for his so many, so honourable, and so re [...]ed victories, was [Page 155] through the worlde called Pompe the greate, then whi­che name, I knowe not what might bee more roiall, or magnificent. And thus were those names giuen, to those vertuous capitaines, in suche sorte, that their generalles, and conductours of armies, were also termed by the na­mes of Emperours, whiche this daie of all others, is the supreme, and higheste dignitie, so that thei were, either Pretors, Consuls, or Proconsuls, and that also had sub­dued his enemie in some famous battaille, had also de­stroied, and wasted his whole countrie, slaine, and mur­thered greate heapes of his subiectes, and finally by the losse of twoo thousande of his owne, to haue slaine tenne thousande of the contrary, at the leaste, for other wise he gained not the name of an emperour. This happie name gate Iulius Caesar, the father of Iulius Caesar, for his vic­torie; whiche he obtained againste the Samnites, and Lu­cans, in the daies, and tyme of Silas. Pompe was also cal­led Emperour, for his fortunate victorie in Africa, against Domician. Cicero assigned Proconsul in that warre, a­gainste the Parthians, was by his soldiours, for his happie successe, continually called Emperour. Iulius Caesar also before he was elected Emperour, was, for that he was fortunatein warre, euery where called Emperour. But what capitaine so euer founde not his aduersary strong, and puissaunte, suche as durste, and would, bothe meete, and incounter with hym, neither merited, or obtained that name of an Emperour, yea, he sharpely was repro­ued, that ambiciously desired it. Hence Marcus Antonius semed to grudge, and m [...]rmure, for that hauyng sackte a greate citie, on the farther side of the riuer of Euphrates, that the name of Emperour, was notwithstandyng, de­nied hym. After this Iulius Caesar, and his successours, af­fectyng the seigniorie of Rome; and knowing how odious the name of a kyng was, vnto all the people, did them sel­ues to be called, by the name of Emperours, whiche from that tyme hath continued, euen vntill this daie, a name of [Page] all others moste reuerente, and honourable. And as the Romaines, this honoured their owne capitaines, with these titles, so in maner semblable, neither left, or forgate thei to gratifie any straunger, that for friendship serued, or liued in wage with theim, in maner as ample, as if he had been borne in Rome: and as thei founde them hardy, and valiaunte, so were thei gratious, and large, in recom­pensyng their seruice: so gaue thei vnto Atalus a parte of Asia, with the title (for more ample satisfaction) of a king of which benefite, he neuer became obliuious, or vngrate­full, for diyng, he retourned the profites therof, to Rome again. A. Eumenes brother to this Atlaus, for that he ha [...] bothe painfully, and faithfully serued the Romaines, a­gainst Antiochus, the Senate gaue hym in recompence, all the tounes, that thei had gotten of Antiochus in Asia. Vnto Iotar kyng of Galicia, for hauyng aided Pompe a­gainst Mithridates, thei gaue the whole prouince of little Armenia. In like sorte thei rewarded Massinisla kyng of Numidia, receiued by Scipio for companion, and frende to the people of Rome, to whom thei franckly gaue what so euer, he had gotten from Siphax, whiche had aided the Citezeins of Carthage, against the others of Rome. Nei­ther thus rewarded thei princes, and greate personages onely, but vnto men of base condition, thei presented iu­les, offices, and honours. The Consull Marius, cōsidering the notable courage, of twoo small bandes, whiche mer­uailously withstoode the furious, and violent incursions of the Cimbrians, whiche then were entered vpon the Cimbria is that vvhich vve novv call Den­marke. frontires, or confines of Italie, infranchest them imme­diatly, reputing them for citezeins of Rome, wherof beyng reproued, as hauyng doen it against their lawes, saied, that in the middle of that fight, when blowes were dealt thic­keste, he heard no lawe speake in what sorte so euer.

¶ Of the seuen meruailes, or wonders of the worlde. Chapt. 1.

SVche as haue imployed any parte of their time, in the rea­dyng of histories, oratours, and olde Poetes, haue founde that often mention is made, of the seuen wonders of the worlde, at sundrie tymes erected, and in places farre distaunte. All suche as haue hereof written any thing, agree, and accorde togither on sixe, but as tou­ching the seuenth, we finde diuers opinions, and therfore lesse determine, on whiche, or where, with beste warrāt to arreste vs. How be it, in the firste place we will speak, of the walles of Babilon, one of the seuen, and that for good cause, as well for the meruailous circuite of theim, as for the seate also thereof, whiche bothe to moste men, might seme a thyng impossible: and although it might suffice, in this place now to aduertise the reader, of that, whiche is aboue said in the chapiter, of the diuersitie, and confusion of tongues, and that it was there builte, where Nembrothe erected the Tower of Babel, of whiche the toune (as is euidente) tooke his denomination, yet will we not so, and in suche sorte passe it. These waules then accordyng to the approued opinion, of moste men, and of Trogus Pompeius, as hath Iustine, were first of all foun­ded, by the famous Quéene Semyramis, mother vnto Ni­nus. Whiche opinion D. Siculus, A. Marcelinus, and P. Orosius, with the greatest parte of al the Gentiles, haue [Page] vniformely agreed on: although Saincte Augustine, and Iosephus in his antiquities, attribute it vnto Nembrothe Aug. lib. 16. de ciuitate dei. Iosephus li. 9. de antiquitati­bus. aided by his people: but were it, that Semyramis, either laied the foūdation, or repaired it, it sufficeth that it was perfected, and inrichte meruailously by her. This Citee was seated on a plaine on the one side, on the other side paste the greate riuer of Euphrates. It was proportioned in a square, or quadrante, the walles verie high, and cu­riously wrought, the matter was stone, laied with hoate lime, and an other kinde of cimente, whiche vsually is founde in the mines of that countrie, but chiefly in that greate riuer of Iudea, where some tymes stoode Sodome and Gomorra, called Asfaltida, giuyng a slime, whiche holdeth more faste, then any kinde of Pitche, or Glewe. Some writers disagree, as well about the height of this walle, as also aboute the circuite thereof, whiche might peraduēture happē by diuersitie of measures, Plinie saith that this walle had in compasse sixtie thousande pases, so that euery quarter, or fowerth parte of the quadrante, had by computation iuste fiftene thousande: he farther addeth, that it was twoo hundred foote high, which foote exceded by thrée inches, the measure of the foote Romain and xv. foote thicke, whiche was assuredly very straunge and meruailous. Diodorus Siculus affirmeth, that it con­tained in all, three hundred, and sixtie stadia, and was al­so, so thicke that sixe Cartes there on, without annoye, might passe, on a fronte togither. The bridges, fortifica­tions, towers, and gardines, that Semyramis did on, and through this walle to bee made. is a thyng more miracu­lous, then easie to be credited. It farther is written, that she retained in this woorke, three hundred thousande woorkemen, gathered throughout all the territories, and countries subiecte to her. To the former lengthe, Quintus Cursius addeth yet eight stadia more, & in height he saieth it had iuste an hundred cubites: but Paulus Oro­sius Paulus orosius lib. 2. saieth, that it conteined in lengthe, fower hundred [Page 157] and eightie stadia, whiche mounte (giuyng an hundred, twentie, and fiue paces, to euery stadium) to the sixtie thousande pases, that Plinie remembred. Strabo wri­teth, Strabo lib. 16. that this walle was in compasse, but three hundred eightie, and fiue stadia, but in breadthe was suche, that many Cartes might passe on it, not touchyng, or hurting any one tho'ther. Farther straūge thynges are written, of the pleasaunt, and fine gardeins, that were on certain turrettes, and towers, in this wall, in whiche also grew trees of greate height. Iulius Solinus here in accordeth with Plinie. Besides this, some of these writers also af­firme, that without, it was inuironed, with certaiue mo­tes, or diches, full to the bankes continually with water no lesse brode, or deepe, then some reasonable good riuer. In this citee were an hundred gates, all of mettalles, no lesse stronge, then beautifull, and curious: and in fine, what soeuer is written of the excellencie of these walles it nede not to any manne seme lesse true, or incredible, for that this citee was then the moste proude, and moste stately of all others in the worlde, the seate, and chaire longe tyme, of the vniuersall, and generall Monarche, whiche is an argumente, or note sufficiente, of the greate pompe, and roialtie ofit, of parte described by Aristotle in his Politiques, who there saieth, that it beyng on a tyme, taken by the enemie, these that inhabited the far­ther parte of thesame, neither felte, or knewe any thing of their miserie, before full three daies afterward. In the seconde place of these wounders, wee shall remember a Colossus, whiche was made at Rhodes, offered by the Gentiles, and dedicated to the Sunne, although some o­thers Colossi, vvere Images of ex­cedyng great­nes, hauyng the shape, or proportion of man. Plineus li. 34. cap. 7. saie vnto Iupiter: this Colossus was of mettall, of a houge, and incredible greatnesse, and height, muche like to some greate, and strong tower, in suche sorte, that it well might bee meruailed, howe, or in what maner it might be sette vp, or raised. Plinie who hardly passeth a­ny thyng, writeth that it had seuentie cubites in height, [Page] and although to make it, there were a greate number of good woorke men continually busied, yet wrought their twelue yeres, before thei could finishe it, and the char­ges thereof drewe to iij. C. talentes. It was made by the commaundement of Cares, scholer to Lysippus. This I­mage was of suche horrible greatnes, that it seemed the yearth was vnable to sustaine hym: he stoode as bothe Plinie, and Orosius record, but onely fiftie and sixe yeres, at th'ende of which tyme he fell, ouerthrowen by a mer­uailous yearthquake, and beyng fallen, infinite multitu­des came to beholde hym, as a moste straunge, and rare spectacle, especially for that fewe men were founde, that could well fathome his thombe, the little finger beyng greater, then all other ordinarie Images. Some write of an hundred others, whiche also were at Rhodes, but all farre inferiour to this in greatnes, whiche to remember therefore, is lesse incidente to our purpose, vnlesse per­chaunce, wee should here mynde the reader, that some therfore haue thought, that the Rhodians by this meane gate the name of Colossenses, hauyng at one tyme, an hundred small Colossi, besides that other greate Colos­sus, now aboue remembred: how be it this opinion lesse pleaseth Erasmus, for that (saieth he) the Colossiens, to whom saincte Paule wrote, were the inhabitauntes of Colossas, a citee in Frigia-Retourne we then to this Co­lossus again: whiche laie rottyng, and rustyng there, ma­ny yeres after, euen vntill the tyme of Pope Martin the first, whiche was in the yere of our Lorde God, iuste sixe hundred, when the Infidelles, with their capitaine the Soudan of Egypte, inuaded the Rhodians, and as Platina writeth, in the life of the saied Martine, with, whom also accordeth Antonius Sabellicus, carried thence all the peeces, or partes, that remained of that Colossus, where with thei loaded nine hundred Camelles. Of all th'other Colossi, whiche were as well in Rhodes, as in other pla­ces, but in quantitie, or bignes, farre inferiour to this, I [Page 158] maie in this place at all, speake nothyng, onely hauyng here to intreate of, the seuen wounders of the worlde. The thirde was, the Pyramides in Egypte, concernyng whiche, if all thynges be true, in good histories reported, thei were then no lesse miraculous, then straunge, in deede, and meruailous. Pyramides were then, certaine What a Pyra­mis is. edifices, or buildynges, whiche beganne in a quadrante, and so continued still, by insensible differēce, streatning, and sharpenyng vpwardes, some thyng like vnto a Dia­ [...]ant, of a meruailous greatenesse, and height with all, builte, with suche, and so houge stones, cut, and framed in suche meruailous perfection, that it were hard to write, the true proportion of it, harde also, to bring men to re­ceiue it for a truth, and credite it: how be it, these thynges are sufficiently aucthorised, as well by Christians, as by Gentiles, of whose reporte (vnlesse we wrong them) we neither maie, or can doubte any thyng. These Pyramides are then Towers of incredible height, endyng euermore at the toppe, in a small or sharpe pointe. This woorde Pyramis, taketh his beginnyng of this Greke woorde Pyr, in Englishe fire, for that it endeth as a flame, sharpe continually at the pointe. Emong all the Pyramides, any where remembred of, perticuler mention is especiallie made of three, and thei al in Egypte, betwixte the citee of Mensis, now called Caira, and the Isle of Delta, inuiro­ned on euery side, with the riuer Nilus, of whiche one, is accompted, one of the seuen wounders: for as is reported there laboured continually to raise, and erecte it, three hundred, and sixtie thousande menue, for the full space of twentie yeres: which thyng Plinie passeth not, alleaging Plinie lib. 36. cap. 12. Diod. Sic. li. 1. Strabo lib. vlti­mo. Pomp. M. l [...] 1. Herod. lib. 2. Am. lib. 2. twelue aucthours, whiche all together affirme it, as also doeth Diodorus Siculus, Strabo, Pomponius Mela, Hero­dotus, Amianus, with others. Some also write that the foundation of this Pyramis, contained so muche grounde as maie bee well ploughed, with one plough in eight da­yes, whiche maie mounte to eightie Iugera: others some [Page] abate againe so muche thereof, as maie bee ploughed of one plough, in one or twoo daies, so that it containeth the full compasse of sixe, or seuen daies iournies at the least, and in height it also had, so muche, or some thyng more. Plinie writeth, that eche quarter conteined in lengthe, eight hundred, eightie and three foote. The stones were all of Marble, brought out of Arabia, and as Pomponius Mela recordeth, the moste parte of theim were thirtie foote longe, whence it semeth not incredible, that there were there on busied, so many thousande men, some to carrie, tourne, and remoue stones, others to square, fine, and frame thē, others again to fasten, iointe, and laie thē, besides the multitude busied in Iron woorkes, and other thynges like needefull, and necessarie. Farther of other Pyramides, some also write this, or at the leaste of twoo or three, of whiche one was erected, by the vaine pompe of the princes and kynges of Egypte, whiche were of all others moste riche in that tyme, of parte as well by the fertilitie of their countrie, as also of parte, for that in E­gypt, no man then held in his owne possession any thyng, the kyng onely excepted: and thus there beganne, in the tyme of Ioseph, sonne of Iacob, whiche counsailed Pha­rao, to reserue, and kepe, the corne of the seuen plentifull yeres, to helpe himself, and his people, in the other seuen yeres of famin folowyng, duryng whiche tyme, the king by meanes of his graine, became Lorde, and seigniour of euery mannes landes, rentes, and possessions, through­out all, and euery his territories, and countries. Consider here then of the wealthe, of these princes, & how all their subiectes serued them, without respecte, as thei had been bōdmē. And as it is fartherreported in good histories, these princes for none other cause, did these Pyramides to bee raised, but onely to giue meate, & sustenance to their hun­grie subiectes, to suche I meane, as in these workes labo­red, & farther, not to leaue their treasures to their succes­sors: for thei more desired in suche sort to spende thē, then [Page 159] to leaue occasion to their posteritie, by these meanes to passe, and surmount their predicessors, in wealth and a­bundance, inioiyng after theim, that whiche they before carefully had gathered. It also is written, that these Py­ramides serued, as Sepulchers for greate Princes: and who so wel cōsidereth the greate multitude of Hebrues, whiche serued in Egipte, whose aide the Princes vsed there, to erecte Cities, Castles, and Holdes, will nothing at all maruaile at that which is aboue saide: for it is most certaine, that there were deliuered from this bondage six hundred thousande men, besides an infinite multitude of women, and children, whiche all were imploied in these, and the like woorkes, so that by these meanes it was no straunge thyng to aduaunce these famous edifices: and as some also report, the Radishe rootes, and saletes, besi­des other prouision of like meates in these workes spent, mounted to the summe of eightie talentes, which might value, of our mony, one million, and foure score thousand Crounes. Diodorus writeth, that rounde aboute this Pyramis, bothe nigh, and farre of, there was not to bee founde, so muche as one small stone, nether any shewe, or signe, that any man had earste been there, and in fine, no foundation thereof, to be séen, or perceiued, onely ther was fine sande as salte, and that in greate abundaunce or quātitie: in suche sort that it séemed, it onely had been, by some secrette miracle, or by the mightie hande of God, or that it had out of that place growen vp, whose height al­moste séemed, to haue streachte vnto the heauens. If we would leaue to remember olde histories, yet coulde wee not in this matter lacke, good witnesses of our tyme. Pe­tre Matyr borne in Milan, a man of no lesse experience, then learnyng, sente as Ambassadour vnto the Soudan of Egypte, from the Emperour Ferdinande, in the yere, of our redemption, a thousande fiue hundred and one, cō ­posed a booke of these thinges, which he sawe, and did, in that ambassade, where hee vttereth in writynge, that, [Page] whiche by mouth he hath often tymes spoken, touching, and concernyng, these fore remembred Pyramides, a­greyng in euery pointe with that whiche these auncient authors haue leafte vs: and perticularly he discourseth, in many of twoo, whiche both he sawe, of height incredible, and farther saieth that hee measured the quarters of one of theim, which were all equal, eche hauyng .iij. hundred, and fiftene pases, in leanght, and in circuite all to gether almost thirtene hundred: and againe he addeth, that on e­uery side, there were certeine houge, and greate stones, imbost, and swellyng outwarde for the more better con­ueance of certaine roumes with in. And more he saieth, that some of his company, in long tyme, & with meruei­lous paine ascended to the top of one of them, where thei founde one stone, suche and so greate, that with ease thir­tie men might at once haue stode on hym, and beyng de­scended againe, woulde not otherwise thincke, but that thei had been in some cloude, & farther so high thei were, that their sight beganne to faile theim, their braines rol­lyng and turnyng, as people amased. So that as he saith, it nothing may be doubted, neither of the nūber of work­men, nether of the greate expenses. The fourth was the sepulchre, or tombe, whiche Artemisia did to be built for her husebande Mausolus kyng of Caria, a prouince in A­sia the greater, nigh vnto the Sea Icarium. This woman as writeth A. Gellius, and others, in suche sorte loued A. G [...]li. 10. no­ctium At. Mausolus her husebande, that all men remember her, for an example moste notable: who after the kyng died, did in suche sorte lament, and bewaile hym, as nether can I write, or finde experience thereof in others, erectynge to hym a sepulchre, aunsweryng of parte, the greate loue that she bare hym, whiche for the cost bestowed theron, the excellent frame, and workmanshippe with all, was, and is reputed, for one of the seuen wōders. This tombe was built on an excellent kinde of Marble, in compasse iuste four hundred, and a leuen foote, and in height, twē ­tie [Page 160] and fiue cubites. It also had thirtie, and six pillers, all of stone of rare prise, most skilfully ingraued: it laie open to the veu, on euery side to be séen, with Arches contai­nyng seuentie and three foote, in breadthe, bulte by the moste excellent workmen that were in the world to bee found. The parte openyng to the Easte, was ingraued, and wrought by Scopas: that toward the north by Briax, the South parte by Timothee, and that of the West, by Leocares: the perfection of this worke was suche, and the frame therof so excellent, that it therby gained the name of Mausoleum, and that for the deade Kynges sake, for whom it was builded, whence also all other sepulchres, that euen vntill this daie haue any where béen made, if there be any beauty, or excellencie in theim, for that Se­pulchre onely, holde the name of Mausolea. And of those thinges make mention Plinie, Pomponius Mela, Hero­dotus, Plinie li. 35. cap. 5. P. Mela. li. 1, Stra. lib. 7. Strabo, Aulus Gellius, and others. It also is eui­dent, that Artemisia after the death, and departure of her husebande, liued in continuall teares, and wéepyng, and that her selfe also paide the tribute of nature, before this worke was fully finished, and ended, hauyng drouncke notwithstandyng her husebandes bones firste in pouder, lodging theim in the Sepulchre of her owne proper bo­dy. The fifte was the Temple of Diana, whom fondly, the Gentiles adored for a goddesse, it stoode in the citie of Ephesus in Asia, in the prouince of Ionium. Plinie saieth that it was builte by the Amazones, whose fame, and renoume, was suche, and so straunge, that no parte of the world was there, that resounded not of it, so that Demo­critus there of onely hath writen, one whole volume. Plinie discoursing of this temple, saieth that it contained foure hundred, twentie and fiue foote in lengthe, and in breadthe twoo hundred, and twentie. This woorke was of such merueilous excellencie, that all Asia about it was busied ij. C. and twenty yeres, it was seated in a Fenne, or marishe ground, onely to auoide the daūger of yearth­quakes: [Page] the foundation therof was laide with Cole dust, hard troden, and beaten doune, and on that againe great store of Wooll, to assure the place, other wise moiste, and watrie. In it were an hundred fowertie, and seuen pil­lours, euery of theim of Marble, and seuenty foote high, all erected by Kynges of Asia. Of these thirtie seuen were most exquisitlie ingraued, the others also of Mar­ble (as is saide) polished. The maister of this woorke, as recordeth Plinie was Cresiphon, but Strabo otherwise Strabo. lib. 14. saieth that it was Archifron. Howe bee it, this diuersitie of opinions is excusable, consideryng howe longe tyme this woorke continued, and therefore of necessitie it re­quired more then one, or twoo maisters, besides, many thinges were added at sundrie tymes to perfecte it. Soli­nus, and Pomponius Mela, write that this Temple was firste erected by the Amazones, and Solinus farther ad­deth, that when the mighty, and puissant Xerxes, was busied aboute the conquest of Grece, he brunte, and con­sumed euery other Temple, onely reseruyng, and sauing this. All writers accorde, that on these pillours, was fra­med a roufe of Ceder, in most curious sort wrought, that was possible to be deuised, the doores through out, beyng all of Cypres. After this a leude person consideryng of this so riche, and so renoumed a woorke, desired still in harte (whiche he after did) to burne it, and beyng appre­hended immediatly vpon the facte, confest that he had for none other cause doone it, but that his fame might line, hym self eche where remembred, for euer, of the posteri­tie, whence as Valerius Maximus, recordeth, in his title of renoume, and honour, and also with hym in like man­ner Aulus Gellius, it was immediatly enacted, that no A. Gel. lib. 2. manne vnder paine, of greate, and greuous punishment, should at any tyme bée so hardy to speake, or write, hys name, to the intent he yet might faile, of that his desired purpose. But this lesse serued, for both Strabo, and Soli­nus, witnesse of his name, and call hym Herostratus, of [Page 161] whom proceded afterward this prouerbe, Hero [...]rati glo­ria, applied vnto these that seke either fame, or honor, by any their like wretched & villanous tretcheries. Farther wee may remember here, as not altogether impertinēt, that the very same daie, that this temple was thus bur­ned, Alexandre was borne, that Prince of worthy me­mory, whiche conquired, and subdued eache Prouince throughout all Asia. Which thing well noteth Plutarch, in the life of Alexandre, as also Cicero twise in his second booke de natura deorum, also againe in his booke de diuina­tione, where as hee saieth, that then, when this Temple was in burnyng, the Sages there prognosticated, of the generall destruction, and conquest of all Asia, as in deede it after was, subdued by this Alexandre. Some reporte that this temple, was againe réedefied, inlarged also, and beautified, muche more then at the firste, as also that the maister of this worke had to name Democrates. The sixt maruaile was none other, then the Image of Iupiter O­lympicus, which was erected in the Temple of Iupiter in Acaya, betwixt the two Cities of Elida, and Pisa, whiche place, as also the Temple, after the denomination of Iu­piter Olympicus, were both called by one name Olym­pia, whiche Image as both Strabo, and Pomponius Mela Stra. lib. 8. P. Mela. li. 2. reporte, was no lesse renoumed for the arte, perfection, and finenes of the woorke, then it also was, for his ex­ceedyng houge greatnesse. Some saie that it was, all of Porphire, other some of Yuorie, wrought, or doone by Phidias, to graue, or carue, the most excellenst that euer was. Of this Image writeth Plinie, as besides hym sun­dry Plinie. li. 34. & 36. others. Strabo addeth that the excellencie of this I­mage, consisted in his greatnes to whiche also came that, whence in déede it was more straunge, and merueilous, that it al was wrought of Porphire, cut, and deuided into most smale, and fine partes. It is reported that Phidias, in one onely pointe, failed in this woorke, to wéete, that the compasse of this Image was lesse conformable, and [Page] agreant, with the true proportion of the Church, for that beyng made sittyng, was yet neuer the lesse so high, and so greate, that if you woulde haue considered hym at any tyme to haue stoode, the churche then by no meanes could any waies haue healde hym. Notwithstandyng this I­mage muche beautified this Temple, doyng it to be spo­ken of much more then before, though it also were before very famous, especially by the meanes of thrée solemne plaies, and games, kepte in the honour of Iupiter, called Olympia. Thence came it, that the Grekes counted thier yeres, by Olympiads, which vsually were from fiue ye­res, to fiue, whiche plaies were first instituted, and ordai­ned by Hercules. But this vsage some tymes leafte, was after againe practised, and put in vre by Emonis, or as others some will, by Sfiton, foure or fiue yeres after the destructiō of Troie, at least as Eusebius accompteth, at whiche tyme beganne againe the firste Olympias. Cō ­cernyng the seuenth meruaile, some suppose it to bee the Towre that was in the Isle Pharos, nigh to that renou­med Alexandria in Egypte. This Pharos was a small Isle, longe, and streate, liynge on the one side of Egypte, straight against the mouth of Nilus, which in olde tyme, or long sithe, as gaithereth Pomponius Mela, and also Plinie, was of one side onely inuironed with the Sea, or P. Mela li. 2. Pline lib. 5. water, but after warde in their tyme was so foolded in with fluddes, that onely at one place, and by one Bridge, passage was, and by none other. In this Isle Pharos (so called after the name of a certeine discrite Pilote, which sometimes was at Meneleas, and there also was buried) the kinges of Egipte builte a certaine towre of Marble, in height, and curious woorke, surpassyng all others, on the toppe of a hill inuironed with water, whose frame, and facion was suche, and so statly, that it coste theim eight hundred talentes, which mounte to foure hundred, and foure skore thousande crounes, accordyng as Budeus accompteth; and was erected for none other cause, but to [Page 162] bee a Lanterne for certeine Torches or lightes in the night, onely for the comforte, and suretie of all those that ether were then in voiage by Sea, or by Lande, the better to conduct theim to good and sure harbour. Which tower neuerthelesse as moste men holde, was builte at the proper charges of Ptolome onely, whose maister of that woorke hadde to name Sistratus, as Plinie also hath Plinie lib. 35. plainly leafte vs. Caesar in his commentaries no lesse cō ­mendeth the height, then he doth the beautie, and excel­lencie of this tower, and saieth that it hadde the name, of the Isle Pharos. The very same reporteth Amianus Marcelinus, writyng the history of this worthy woorke: A. Marc. lib. 2. to which Solinus addeth, that what towers so euer were any where to this purpose built, were, to the imitation of this also called Pharoos, as that (for example) of Mes­sina and others. And farther I suppose that these lightes, or Lanternes, which ordinarily are caried, in shippes by the night, eche one the better to drawe, and directe the other, by this meanes in like manner were also cauled Pharoos. So this is now the laste of these seuen maruai­les, although in dede, of many it be accompted none, in whose place some number the hangyng gardeines of Ba­bilon, where of also is to fore some thing saide. Lactantiꝰ Firmianus reporteth, that these Gardeines were plotted on high, on the very toppes of Arches, and Towers, in suche sorte that vnder theim were faire, and pleasante lodginges, and aboue grewe trees of greate, and rare hougenes, with abundance of springes, at all tymes to bede we theim. The forme of these buildinges, is amp­lie described by Diodorus Siculus. Celius Rhodiensis, dis­coursing of these mearuailes remembereth no thinge of this Tower Pharos, ne yet of these straunge Gardeines of Babilon: but in the seuenth place addeth an Obeliscus, framed, and perfected by the commaundement of Semi­ramis, whiche in shape nothing differed, or facion from a Pyramis, beginnyng in a square, and endyng in a pointe, [Page] in this notwithstandyng disagreyng with the other, that the Obeliscus euer was of one onely stone, nether péeste, or patchte, in any parte, or place, and yet therefore little yeldyng in height to any Pyramis, of whiche we reade that some, were greate, as any Towers, of a faire, and good stone curiously grauen. Of whiche sorte is one yet this daie in Rome, knowen by the name only of a neelde whiche by inspeakable paine and pollicie, was brought, out of Egypte, of height no lesse merueilous, then it was to bring so houge a weaght thether. This Obeliscus now of Semiramis, whiche Celius, as is saide, reckneth for the last maruaile, had in height an hundred, & fiftie foote, and in circuite nintie sixe, eche side in length, by equall pro­portion conteainyng twentie fower foote, whiche as it was one whole, and perfecte stone, so was he also, by ex­presse tōmaundement of Semiramis, cut out of a certeine hill or mountaine in Armenia, and afterwarde thence brought to the aboue remembred Babilon. But who so will consider how harde it was to drawe it thence, howe harde also afterwarde to erecte it, might thincke, in truth it was, a thing almoste impossible, were ti not, that the antiquitie had thinges like straunge, and difficill, whiche euery where are leafte vs, of authours worthy credite, whiche assure vs also of others, in like sorte perfected, by other Princes of Egypte. Plinie sheweth the maner, how with out any hurte, bruse, or annoie, thei first were Plinie lib. 6. cap. 8. & 9. remoued from the place where thei were made. Of these Pyramides Obelisci, Colossi, and suche others, at full dis­courseth the learned Polysias, in the beginnyng of his booke of loue and fire.

¶ What maner of women the Sibylles were, how many in number and of their prophecies, but especially of those that concerned Christ, and his commyng. Chapt. 2.

[Page] THe history of the Sibylles is general­ly aucthorised of all menne, ther lear­nyng, and prophecies verie well kno­wen, but perticulerly to intreate whē and what thei were, whereof thei Prophecied, and at what tyme, that onely knoweth he, that hath spente some time in old, and auncient histories. Wherefore my desire was, some thyng of them to gather, especially con­sideryng the meruailous gifte of Prophecie, whiche God in sunderie wise bestowed at tymes on theim, and princi­pally to fore saie, of the cummyng of his sonne, of his life, and passion, with other many misteries of our belefe, and faithe, of whiche wee shall some thyng, in this place re­mēber, to the intente the Ethnicke, & Panime, that will aucthorise nothyng, but their owne proper writinges, might no better haue to excuse hymself, then the perfecte Iewe whiche affiyng in his owne, neither liketh, or ac­cepteth, the true faithe, or religiō. And this saie I, for that by common admission, and consente, such bookes were of all the Gentiles receiued, & these Sibylles also credited, but especially of the Romaines, whiche in euery their af­faires, or necessities whatsoeuer, had their due recourse to the Prophecies of these Sibylles, conferring, and con­sultyng of all thynges, by them written. But for that so many, as well Grekes, as Latines, haue in suche sorte, so fully discourste, and written of theim, wee shall here followe, and imitate the beste, not greuyng, or weriyng the reader, with any others. Diodorus Siculus, Plinius, Solinus, Seruius, Marcianus Capellus, Lactantius Firmi­anus, Elianus, Suidas, Strabo, Marcus Vario, and Virgill also, with the better parte of Poetes, Sainct Augustine, Eusebius, Orosius, with the moste parte of all good histo­rians, haue some thyng written, and discourste of these Sibylles. Diodorus saith, that this worde Sibylla, signi­fieth nothing els, but a woman Prophetesse, and one ful [Page] of God. Seruius, as also Lactantius, in his fowerth booke of diuine institutiōs, nameth them none otherwise, then the counsaile of God: Suidas, women Prophetes. The o­thers disagree, as well about the number of them, as al­so when thei were. Some nombryng more, some lesse but as thereof vncertaine. Marcianus Capella, mindeth vs of twoo onely, others some of fower, as chiefly Elianus in his variable histories. Marcus Varro remembreth no lesse then tenne, with whom Lactantius Firmianus occor­deth in his firste booke, whom I haue determined in this place to followe. The firste was of Persia, called Samber­ta, The first Sam­berta. of whom Nicanor maketh mention, the same that wrote the renoumed gestes of Alexander, others write, that she was of Chaldea, others a Jewe, borne in the toune of Noe, nigh the redde sea, whose father hight Be­rosus, & her mother Erimanta: this woman wrote twen­ty fower bookes in vearses, in which she disclosed straūge and wounderfull matters, concernyng the commyng of Christe, his miracles, and his life, though secretly, and as shadowed, not to be vnderstode of all men. With whom all the other Sibylles vniformely accorde, in suche sorte that Lactantius Firmianus, as well in his fowerth boke, as in sunderie other places, leaueth vs their perticuler Prophesies of Christe. And Saincte Augustine also hath lefte vs, a brief, or shorte summarie, of some certain, and principall matters, whiche as well this, as the others al­so haue Prophesied, especially of the death, and passion of our Sauiour, and emong others these woordes by order. After this he shall bée apprehended, by the handes of In­fidels, thei also shall beate, and buffette hym aboute the face, with their impure, and sacrilegious handes, with their mouthes accursed, and blasphemous shal thei spitte on hym, he shall geue theim his bodie, as contented to be whipte theron, he shall loue silence, and vtter fewe wor­des, so that whence hée speaketh fewe menne at all shall knowe, semblably he shall be crouned with shearpe, and [Page 164] pearsing thornes, Gaule shall thei geue hym to eate, and sower Vineager to drincke. See here the banket that these men shall make hym: so that thou O Nation bothe ignorant, and blinde, shalte not knowe thy GOD, here present and with thée, but tyrannously shalt croune hym (as is fore saide) with thornes, medling Gaule, and vine­ger together (a potion) for hym. After this the Veale of the Temple shall sundre, and the midle of that daie shall be darckned as the night, by the whole space of three full howres, so then shall the iuste die, who shall lie deade, or sleape onely thrée daies, and hauyng paste through Hell shall rise, or reuiue, neuer to die againe. These woordes are suche, so plaine, and so euidente, that thei in nothyng differ, from these of the Euangelistes, cōcernyng Christ, our maister, and Messias: or otherwise, from these, of the holy prophetes, but emōg the others principally of Esaie, whiche the Churche also this daie doeth holde, and shall doe euer. And these Prophesies are recorded, some by La­ctantius Firmianus, some by sainct Augustine, and others some by others, as by Cicero, Marcus Varro, and o­thers, Gentiles all deade before the birthe, and natiuitee of our Sauiour, as is bothe plaine, and manifeste by the saied Lactantius, who farther of these Sibylles, addeth al­so Lact. li. 4. ca. 15. this muche: he shall raise the dedde, the impotente, and the weake by hym again shall goe, the deafe shall heare, the blinde sée, the dombe shall speake, and laude his name freely, and againe somwhat before, with fiue loaues, and twoo fishes, he shall fede fiue thousande menne in the de­serte, and that whiche shall remaine, shall also refreashe the hungerie nede of others. The seconde by report, was The second li­byca. borne in Libya, of whom mention is made by Euripides, in his Prologue of Lamia. The thirde hight Themis, and was surnamed Delphica, for that she was borne in the The third Del­phica. Citée Delphos, of whom remembreth Chrysippus, in his booke of Diuination. Vnto this woman, the Romaines erected an Image, whiche was, as recordeth Plinie, be­fore [Page] the destruction of Troie, so that Homere in his wor­kes, hath sundrie, and diuers of her vearses, as is euident. Diodorus Siculus saith, that this was Daphne, the dough­ter of Tiresias, whō, when the Grekes had subdued The­bes, thei sent her foorthe immediately, and without staie to Delphos, where she after became a prophetesse, in the Oracle of Apollo, so that she thence (as he supposeth) and not otherwise, gatte the name of Delphica. The fowerth The fowerth Cumea. had to name Cumea, or Italienna, and not Cumana A­maltea, she was borne in Cimeria, a toune of Campania, adioinyng vnto Cumae, whose prophesies are written, as well by Neuyus in his bookes Punici, as also by Pison in his annalies, and briefly remembred by Lactantius, by Virgil also in his Eglogue this beginning, Scicilides musae. The first was that famous Erythrea, whiche by the espe­ciall The first Ery­threa. grace of God, so plainly prophesied of the greateste misteries of our religion, wherefore as hath Lactantius, the Gentiles in the ages paste, supposyng it impossible, that a virgine, should heare a childe, as also other thyn­ges supernaturall, whiche thei in like sorte wrote, re­membred as well, by old Poetes, as also in aunciente hi­stories, accompted of these vearses, none otherwise, thē of light, vain, and fonde matters, Apolodorus writeth of this Sibyll, that she fore saied to the Grekes, that thei assuredly should sacke, and ouer runne Troie, whence moste suppose, she was before the destruction thereof. How be it Eusebius contrariwise thinketh, that she liued in the tyme of Romulus. Strabo againe in the daies of A­lexander. Of this Erythrea were these woordes, recited by Eusebius, whiche in order translated, sounde in En­glishe this muche, Iesus Christe the soonne of God, and Sauiour. Whiche was in deede no lesse straunge, then meruailous. Others also wrote she, whiche Sainct Au­gustine gathereth in his eightenth De ciuitate dei, which dooen by hym into Latine, maie in our tongue saie this muche: The yearth shall sweate, an assured signe of iud­gemente, [Page 165] from heauen shall come a kyng, whiche shalbe kyng continually, but cladde in mannes fleshe, to the in­tente he maie iudge the worlde, so shall the incredulous see, aswell, as shall the faithfull, and with their iyes shall boholde, God hymself aduaunced in the middle of his an­gelles: and in the ende of this worlde, the soules of men shall appeare, with their owne proper bodies, whiche all hym self shall iudge presente then in persone, at whiche tyme the yearth shall bee brused, and disordered. Menne shall then destroie bothe Images, and Idolles, their iuels eke, and treasures shall thei not accompte of, he shall goe doune into helle, and breake vp the infernall gates, then to the iuste shall ioye, and peace bee lotted, and fire shall tormente still the reprobate, and impious. All secretes shall in this daie bee discouered, euery man shall knowe the thoughtes of an other, God then shall laie open the hartes, and consciences of all fleshe: there shall bee wee­pyng, and gnashyng of teethe, the Sunne; and the Star­res, in that daie shall bee darkened, the heauens them sel­ues shall breake, and the Moone shall lose her lighte, the mountaines shall fall doune, and the valies shall lie euen with the swellyng hilles, nothyng in the whole worlde shall higher bee then other, bothe mountaines, and va­laies shall be reduced, into plaines, eche thyng hauyng in that daie his endyng: the yearth shall be skorchte vp, and brought then to pouder, bothe riuers, and sprynges shall in that daie burne, and with that fire also the yearth it self, the sea, and the aire shall be consumed, a trumpette then from heauen, moste terriblie shall sounde, at which voice the yearth incontinentely shall open, discoueryng the obscure, and disordered face of helle, the paines eke, and the smartes of the damned soules therein. By this Sibyll these, and many others were written at large in vearse, plainly declaryng Christe hym selfe incarnate, with the resurrection of the dedde, and the finall iudge­mente. But these thynges, before thei came to passe in [Page] déede of fewe might, or could in any wise bee vnderstode, reputed for meare follie of the Panimes, and the Gen­tiles. Notwithstandyng Erithrea, well knowyng what was to come, lefte not this muche to saie, in like sorte of her self: vaine shall thei accoumpte me, a light, and liyng dame. But when these thynges shall bee accomplished, then shall thei remember me againe, not as a detyng, or as a senslis wight, but as a true southsaier, or prophetisse of the higheste. From this Sibyl Erithrea, the Romaines at tymes receiued many vearses, whiche Fenestella with silence passeth not in his fiftene Forces, saiyng, that by ordinaunce of the Senate, thei sente Ambassadours vnto her, onely to haue (if it so might please her) of her prophe­sies, whiche frō her brought backe papers in greate num­ber, whiche were bothe carefully, and curiously reserued in the Capitoll, emongste others some, whiche thei also had receiued before. This womā was of Erithrea, a toune of Ionyum, in the Prouince of the lesse Asia, adioinyng vnto Caria, whiche I would the reader should certainlie vnderstande, for that many other tounes are also of this name, as one in Libia, an other in Boecia, the third in Lo­cris, the fowerth in Cyprus, but to assure vs that she was of this Erithrea in Ionyū, Strabo maie onely in this place Strabo lib. 4. The sixt Samia suffice. The sixt Sibyll was of Phytō, a toune in the Isle of Samos, inuironed with the sea Egeum, borderyng on Thrace, or as others some suppose, in that other Isle of Samos cōpassed with the saied sea, right against Ephesus, for which cause she had to name Silia Samia, of which re­membreth E [...]atosthenes. The seuenth was Cumana, o­therwise Amaltea, how bee it, some others gaue her to The seuenth Cumana. name Demophila. Suidas termeth her Hierophila: neuer the lesse Cumana was she called, for that she bothe dwelt and prophesied in the toune of Cumas in Italie, not farre of from Baias. Of this woman writeth Dyonisius, Hali­carnasleus, Solinus, Aulus Gellius, & Seruius, she brought to be sold to Tarquine the proude, kyng of the Romaines [Page 166] nine bookes (though Suidas otherwise suppose, that it was to Tarquimus Priscus) for whiche she demaunded three hundred Crounes, or other peeces of golde, suche as might be, or was, in Rome at that tyme moste currante, but for that the kyng thought her therein vnreasonable, he refused vtterly these her offered marchaundises, by meanes whereof incontinently, she did three of theim in his presence to be burned, not leauyng therefore, to aske againe the whole price, for the other sixe, whiche thyng the kyng disdainyng more then, then at the firste, began to deride her, chargyng her with follie, whence she again taketh others three, and as the first, so burned them im­mediatly, demaunding for the remnante, the whole price of the nine, where at, and at whose constancie, the kyng then muche amased, imagining that thei contained some straunge, and hidden misteries, bought these three, at the price of all the others, whiche afterwarde were laied vp, and reserued in the Capitoll, in meruailous honour, and reuerence of all the people. Plinie writeth that she had but thre in all, of whiche she burned, as he reporteth twoo receiuing notwithstanding for the third, the value of thē all, but how so euer it were, it sufficeth that these bookes were had in suche greate reuerence, so kepte, and reser­ued, with these of the other Sibylles. For as M. Varro alleageth out of Lactantius, the Romaines with inces­sant paine, sought throughout all Grece, and Italie, tho­rowe Asia also, and euery parte thereof, for all bookes, vearses, or prophesies whatsoeuer, that might, or could be founde any where of these Sibylles, and especially emōg the others of that excellent Erithrea, for accomplishemēt whereof, and more expedite gatheryng of these foresaied papers, fiftene menne of honour, were charged with this busines, none medlyng, or dealyng besides them in these matters. Fenistella recordeth, that whē the Capitoll was burned, the Senate sente backe againe to Erithrea, hum­blie requestyng her, to inriche them ones again, with her [Page] bookes, if it so [...]ight please her. Whence it maie be pre­sumed, that thei had not Cumanaes verses onely, but euery the prophesies of eche, and al the others: and that, that Sibyll, of whiche Virgil maketh mention in the begin­nyng, or entrie, of his sixt of Aeneydos, which then dwelt or continued in Cumas, where he affirmeth that Aeneas imbarkte hym self, should bee some other Cumana, not this of whiche we now haue spokē, by common accompt, and reckning, the seuenth of that order: for it hardly may be thought, that Virgil knew of any Sibyll, at that time, when Aeneas firste entered into Italie, ne yet that she liued in the daies, of the fifte kyng of Rome. And Seruius interpretyng thesame place, saieth: of necessitie it nedes muste be, that she, that solde these bookes, should also bee called Cumana, though in trothe her name were nothing so at all, this woman also died in the said toune of Cumas. The eight was borne within the territorie of Troie, in the toune of Marmisa, suche, and so auncient, that as He­raclides The eight Hel Iespontia. Ponticus writeth, she liued in the tyme of Solon the Philosopher, and of that greate, and mightie Cyrus. The ninthe was borne in Phrigia, and Prophesied dwel­lyng The ninth Phrigia. The tenth Al­bunea or Ty­burtina. in the toune of Ancira. The tenthe hight Albunea, borne at Tibur sixtene mile from Rome, whens also she is called some tymes Tiburtina. So these Sibylles, lefte many bokes and verses, in whiche thei Prophesied, of sundrie thynges to come, but principally of the prospe­rous, or aduerse state of Rome: so that the Romaines, in euery their affaires, diligently perused, and with reue­rence all their bookes, or papers, orderyng, and directing them selues, continually by thē. And as when we would be credited, and be thought to speake a truthe, we vsual­ly will saie, it is written in the Gospell, so also saied thei in like sort of the Sibylles, suche was their affiaunce, or greate truste in these women. For proofe whereof Iuue­nal passeth such a vearse, Credite me vobis folium recita­re Sibyllae, whiche he so saied, for that these women, gaue [Page 167] foorthe their Prophesies, written in leaues of trees, as Virgil well witnesseth in his sixt of his Aeneydos. Cicero with great reuerence speaketh also of them, especially in his booke De diuinatione, where he thus muche saith, as we tofore haue saied, that out of their firste, & greate let­ters of euery vearse, senteēces of weight, & great matters stil were drawen. Among other thinges manie, eche one of theim haue spoken, of our faithe, and of the Christian religion, of the birth, the life, and of the death of Christe, as we eftesones tofore haue also specified: as among the others, the Sibyll Delphica also saide. A Prophete shall be borne of a woman not knowyng man: and an other this, he that yet is to come, shall here after come, he shall raigne in pouertie, his greate & mightie force shall he to fewe discouer, out of a virgines woumbe shall he also bée borne. Iosephus againe (a Iewe though he were by race, and eake by his profession) speakyng of the tower of Ba­bilon this much reporteth, that a certaine Sibyl remem­beryng when firste men spake but one language, saithe, that thei builte to theim a proude, and haute Tower, as if by the same thei should haue entered in to heauen, but God sente fourth greate windes to rase, & to subuerte it, as also diuers tongues, the spring of deuision, and discord among the people, whence this Tower gained the fitte name of Babilon. These thinges and others, the sembla­ble, writen by these Sibylles, haue well been recorded by Christians, Iewes, and Gentiles, whiche the Gentiles repleate with sinne colde neuer yet vnderstande: but the Christians as soone, as these Prophesies came to their handes, as well recorde Lactantius Firmianus, Eusebius, and Saincte Augustine, with others, gathered thence greate fruict, and comforte immediatly, the Panym, and the Gentile neglectyng theim to their confusion. Besides these were yet some others, that also were called Sibyl­les, reputed as fore shewers, or fore saiers of thinges to come, as Cassandra the doughter of Priamus, Campusia [Page] Celofonia the doughter of Calcas, Manta Thessalica the doughter of [...]iresias the Thebane, but all histories, onely accorde on the aboue saide tenne.

Wherefore sleepe by nature was geuen vnto man, and that to sleape to muche is bothe noisome, and domageable. Chap. 3.

SLéepe was geuen man for his preser­uation, for that nothing hauing life is ther that sleapeth not. Aristotle saith Ar. lib. 4. de a­nimalibus. that al creatures hauing bloodde, take their repose, and sleape, in whiche place he proueth by reason, and by ex­perience, that fishes also at tymes as other thinges dooe sleape. Sléepe is a surcessing of all the senses from trauaile, whiche is, or is caused, by certaine euaporations, and fumes, rising of our meate, and suste­naunce receaued, mountyng from the stomake immedi­atly vnto the braine, by whose greate coldnes these va­pors warme are tempered, castyng into a slumber euery the forces, or senses exteriour, at whiche tyme the vitall spirites retiryng to the harte, leaue all the members of the bodie in a sleape, vntill suche tyme againe, as these saide vitall spirites (whiche are the onely instrumentes, by whiche the Soule bothe gouerneth, and ordereth the whole bodie) recouer newe force, and streangth to theim againe, and so these vapors, or ceassyng, or diminishynge mā againe awaketh, or retourneth to himself, more apte then to his busines, then at any tyme tofore. Of these oc­casions of sleape, Aristotle is long in his booke De somno, & vigilia: and Plutarche reciteth the opinions of sundrie philosophers, with many natural reasons concerning the saide matter. But although it be good, and necessary for the body, yet must it not be with excesse and immoderat­ly taken, for that to muche fleepe (as well recordeth Ari­stotle) [Page 168] weakneth the spirites, of the bodie as well, as also of the Soule, euen as moderate, and competent reaste, bettereth theim, increasing, their vigor and their force. For as many thinges are necessary, and nedeful in mans life, so taken in excesse, annoie, and greue vs muche, as to eate who feleth not how hunger vs compelleth? and yet, who to muche eateth, repenteth it, we see: in semblable sorte exercise with moderation also pleaseth, but in ex­cesse therof no man hath any liking. So sleepe then must be taken, for necessitie onely, to reuiue, refreashe, and comforte the wery senses, the spirites also vitall, and o­ther wery members. For to much sleape (besides that it maketh heauie the aboue saide spirites, and senses, the partie also becometh slouthfull, weake, and effeminate with ouer muche idlenes) ingendereth muche humiditie, and rawe humors in the bodie whiche commonly assault it with sundrie infirmities, messenges of death, and of fi­nall ruine: for when we to muche fleape all the moistu­res, and humors of the bodie, with the naturall heate re­tire to the extreame partes therof, no where purgyng, or euacuatyng, that what so is redundant. So then vnmea­sured sleepe, is not onely forbidden by philosophers, and phisiciens, but also, is a thing odious to the wise, & vertu­ous. Aristotle saieth that while wee sleape, and slumber, no difference is knowen betwixte the wise man, and the foole, and surely were there none other cause, to breake, and call the wise man, from long, and weary sleape, but onely to eschewe, and vterly refuse, in any pointe to bee like, or resemble hym that is not, yet therefore should he flie it (though moderate sleape geue life, and be therefore right necessarie) consideryng that he that sleapeth, is not then as one liuyng. And as Plutarche addeth in his boke, of the contention of water and fire, who so sleapeth hath none other force, or vnderstandyng sleapyng, then if him selfe were deade, a colde, or senslis carrion. Plinie also is of this minde saiyng, that sléepe still bereueth vs, of the [Page] one halfe of our life, for that when we sleape, we neither knowe, nor féele whether we liue or not. Ouide with o­ther Poetes, and men of like learnyng, tearme sleape an Image, or purtraite of death, and in the Scriptures sleepe, is compared vnto death, as where Saincte Paule saieth, brethren, we will not, that ye be ignorant of these that are a sleape: by whiche woordes he meaneth these that now are dedde, and a little after, God shall draw out after hym, those that haue slepte in Christ. Slepe also is the figure of negligencie, and of sloth, whiche thesame S. Paule againe, in plaine woordes vttereth, my brethren, it now is tyme ye arise, & wake out of your slepe. Slepe also signifieth synne, as hath Sainct Gregorie, who saith that to slepe, is to continue, and perseuere in synne. And againe, if that to slepe muche, had not been accoumpted synne, Saincte Paule then neuer had remembred these Paul. cap. 4. primae epist. ad Thes. woordes so often, awake ye iuste, and leaue any more to synne. Lette vs beginne to shame then, that spende the greater parte of our tyme, in slepe, and in our bedde, for surely who so doeth, his offence is nothyng lesse, then his that all daie doeth sitte, in fatte dishes surfettyng, like a grosse, and swolen Epicure, consideryng these creatures, should onely be taken, to the sole sustentation, and main­tenaunce of life, and not to fill, or pamper voluptuouslie the bellie: in whiche sorte slepe muste also bee taken, onely for necessitie, nothing at all for pleasure. Sith then slepe none otherwise muste be vsed, lette vs now speake in what sorte is beste to slepe, whiche waie, and how to tourne, beyng laied doune in bedde to reste vs, to the in­tent that our slepe maie not annoie, but profit vs. Suche then as are of bodie not impotente, or lesse hardie, should passe as some suppose, their first slepe on the right side, but after that, the greater part of the night, vpō the left, thēce chaungyng towardes the mornyng, vnto the right again. The reason is, for that mannes stomacke is so ordered, that the mouthe thereof, somewhat more bendeth towar­des [Page 169] the right side, then it doeth to the left, but the bottome contrary wise to the leafte, declining from the righte. So slepyng one hower, or twoo, on the right side, the stomack stretcheth foorthe it self at large vpon the Liuer, whence twoo singuler commodities insue, the firste, that the sto­macke ordereth, and inlargeth her self in wisshed maner, by meanes whereof, it passeth with more ease, and con­tentment, the late meates receiued, or nutriment what so euer: the secōde the moisture, or humiditie of the foode in the stomacke, cooleth, refresheth, and comforteth the Liuer, by meanes whereof, the naturall heate waxeth strong within the stomacke, whiche mattereth not a lit­tle to hasten the digestion. This dooen it shall not be dis­commodious, to turue vnto the other side, on whiche be­yng sometymes laied, the Liuer straight imbraceth, and couereth the stomacke, whēce in this maner aided, it per­fecteth, and causeth immediately digestion. How bée, it, it also shall be expedient, some what before you rise, ones a­gaine to tourne, and caste you on the right side, to the in­tente the stomacke, disburden, and discharge it self again of the Liuer, expellyng all noisome aire, and superfluitie of the digestion passed. This rule maie profite suche, as haue their Liuer temperate, their stomacke also not wa­trishe still, and colde, and to whom in fine, these twoo are well affected: but vnto hym whose Liuer percase maie be inflamed, whose stomacke also is subiect vnto cold, which bothe are common in many to bee seen, to hym I thinke it noisome to slepe on the right side, for that the stomack then falleth, and resteth on the Liuer, strainyng or char­gyng it, on euery side or parte, whēce in excesse it heateth and inflameth immediatly, the higher parte of the sto­macke, remainyng still vncouered, coolyng so, and weak­nyng more then before, besides that the Liuer draweth also to it, euen that little heate, that before was in the stomacke, whence consequently insueth, late, and il dige­stion, the bodie indisposed, lesse apte to folowe any thing. [Page] Wherefore, whose stomacke is colde, but Liuer contra­ry wise inflamed, and hoate, beste slepyng is for hym con­tinually on the left side, for that the stomacke couered on euery side with the Liuer, it happely hasteneth, and per­fecteth digestion: and concernyng the Liuer, liyng so a lought, it bothe is discharged, and disburdeined of the sto­macke, hy meanes whereof it cooleth, cleane voide of in­flamations. Some also slepe grouelyng, their face, and bellie dounewardes, whiche semblablie aideth, and com­forteth digestion, for that it both draweth, and retaineth the heate naturall in the stomacke, whiche thence expel­leth, and exileth all superfluities. The contrary happe­neth to them that slepe on their backe, the face open, and directly vpwarde, for that the naturall heate is disperste in partes abrode, lesse apte, or lesse able to perfecte, or cause digestion, for neither can the superfluities bee pur­ged well by the mouthe, ne yet by any other cundites, or ordinary passages, but arreste theim continually in the stomacke, and in the throate, whence some tymes spring vehement suffocatiōs, the fallyng euill also, with others many the semblable, and like infirmities, The wise also here learne vs, that we slepe not to muche, stretcht forth throughout our bedde, for thence again digestion, of part maie also be weakened: for as hath the Philosopher, whē the vertues, and forces are vnited well together, the o­peration of nature is then so muche the stronger, and so liyng of parte, drawne as it were togither, that parte of the bodie, whiche couereth nexte the stomacke, ioigneth more close vnto it, comfortyng, and warmyng it more then it did before. These rules percase maie profite, the daintie, the delicate, and eke the weaker sorte: but con­cernyng those that are lustie, and well disposed, the beste aduice I maie, or any other giue them, is that thei retain thesame custome, that thei tofore haue vsed.

¶ Of three sundrie doubtes, whiche the auncient Philosophers were neuer able to resolue, with the causes why. Chapt. 4.

THE aunciente Philosophers, by the meruailous instincte of God, curious­ly searchte out the causes, of eche the workes of nature, assertainyng their propositions, without contradiction, or repugnauncie, of any others. Yet neuer were thei able to resolue these three thinges, of parte doubtfull, and of some importance with the causes assured of their spryng, and beyng. The first is, that thei well knewe, there was giuen vnto man by nature, a desire neuer to dye, or departe hence, neuer to fele smarte, or any annoye what soeuer, but continu­ally to sugiorne, with felicitie perpetuall, and pleasure in this worlde, neuer sauoryng of any lacke, or defaulte of any thyng, but yet could not attaine to that desired ende or marke. And on the other side well assured, that GOD and Nature, neuer attempted any thyng in vaine, and farther that this, mannes appetite proceded onely of na­ture, toilyng, & supposyng herein to finde the cause, espe­cially that this axiome in any other thing neuer failed, thei folded, and refolded theim selues, in infinite perple­xities, cessyng in dispaire, to lose this knotte or scruple. The seconde was that thei saied, that eche manne felte in hym self, a certaine naturall, and peruerse inclination of the fleshe, and farther, a sensuallitie plaine contrarie to the aboue saied desire, or appetite, whiche was not to dye, or sauour of corruption, as in this carnall motion, whiche casteth man into sundrie daungers, and infirmi­ties, shortnyng his tyme, and his daies so muche desired. The semblable also riseth of excesse in surfeting, besides that others some againe, desirous sodainly to mounte to greate pompe, and honour, hassarde themselues to winde [Page] the sporres in field, where cōmōly thei fall, or els returne oft times, with a fearce, & troubled minde, or in fine some mishap or infortune there betides thē, an ende al cōtrary to that thei so muche affected. The third is, that in the or­der of nature, the bodies inferiour, are gouerned by the superiours, as for example the elementes, by the bodies celestiall: the Orbes, or Spheares of the Planettes (as Philosophers will) by the intelligences, and they againe by the first maker, or mouer of al thinges, God the onely and the sole cause, and prince eternal. But in man alone this order is now peruerted, who being of two partes, to weete the soule, & bodie, we see that the fleashe in truth both vile, and abiecte, rageth, and rebelleth against the minde, and reason, and that whiche worst is draweth it, to his owne frowarde will and pleasure, whence the A­postle saide, that he in his members felte, a lawe con­trarie, and repugnant to the lawe of reason, mouyng it to sinne, and to vniust rebellion. The philosophers ther­fore that liued before the commyng of our sauiour knew nothyng at all, the occasion of this disorder, but curiously sekyng some cause thereof, or reason, fell into sundry er­ronious, and fonde opinions. Whence Anaxagoras saide, that this monstrositie, or disordered rebellion, began at the first, in the beginnyng of the worlde, whē all thinges were folded without regarde, or respect in that auncient Chaos: for separating this force of reason by discorde and reioynyng it againe afterwarde by concorde, it ingende­reth euerie thing good, and perfecte in his kinde, man a­lone excepted, whose body it vniteth stoberne, and disloi­all, with the soule onely absolute, and reasonable. And therfore as these twoo, in this Chaos firste disagreed, so euer more continue thei in discorde, and in enmitie, con­trarie to the rule, and order of all other thinges. In this sorte this poore, and lesse aduised philosopher, attributed the faulte hereof to the diuine prouidence. Others also saide, that this onely happened, by diuersitie of constella­tions, [Page 171] vnder which man was both borne, and conceaued. Aristotle neuer hardned himself, plainly and appertly to vnknot this presente scruple, but rather he gainsaieth it, himself affirmyng, that mans will is naturally inclined to euill, so that with greate difficultie, it is, or maye bee brought subiecte vnto reason. And in an other place hee saieth, that the felicitie whiche manne by vertue here ac­quireth, is the absolute, and perfecte gifte of God alone. To conclude then, vertue, in the action, or operation where of, the felicitie of man fully consisteth, must be the gifte of God, and not of nature onely. On the other side the Manichies desirous to yelde some reason of this per­uerse, and iniuste order saide, that in manne were twoo soules to geather, the one good, of the true and perfecte substaunce, of the prince of light, the other impious, and accursed, takyng his spring of the Prince of darckenes, whence this warre, was this in man continued. Origen saieth, that before the creation or frame of the worlde, all soules sinnyng against the diuine maiestie, were kept and reserued in heauē for a time, but afterward for their punishmente, were plaste againe in bodies, of harde, and noughtie nature, whence this rebellion, in man, in this sorte liueth. But all these opinions both erronious, and detestable, are confuted by Sainct Augustine writyng a­gainst the Manichies, in his booke De duab. anim. and in an other of his, De nat. boni. where with longe reasons most learnedly he sheweth, the cause why they neuer at­tained to the knowleage, or felyng, of this foresaide dis­order, which was for that they neuer had hearde, or kno­wen any thing of the scriptures, by whiche we fully are resolued in euery, and all these scruples, by whiche also it is euident, that both these propositions are aunsweryng, and consonant vnto the order of nature. To weete that God, and nature attempte nothyng in vaine, and that it againe is conuenable, that man by nature should feare, and refuce to taste of death, desirous to liue in continued [Page] ioie, and pleasure, though he yet neuer attaine thereto in any sorte: ne yet therfore is this desire of his in vaine, but rather accordeth perfectly with nature, but not to at­taine to the effecte, or ende thereof, is to manne an acci­dent, and therefore lesse naturall. For God created man, firste to liue immortall, in suche sorte that accordyng to the opion of moste diuines, he neuer should haue died, or tasted of any miserie, had he, or kepte, or obserued the cō ­maundementes geuen him, but hauing transgrest theim he streight became subiecte, to the stormie tempestes of this world, and finally to death: and this by disobedience, man here hath purchaste anguishe, the graue, and corrup­tion. So as the Apostle saieth, by the sinne of disobedi­ence, death first crepte in, and entered into this worlde. Hence nowe it then is euident, that death was neither naturall in our first father Adam, ne after him in vs, but casuall and accidentall, as nothyng at all lesse mente vs by the diuine prouidence. Now then this doubte, maie also this be resolued, that the desire neuer to die, or to en­dure annoie, is lent vs from nature, and that not in vain, for that it some tymes was in vs, if manne then had not sinned) assuredly to haue attained, the effecte so much de­sired: but beyng (as we are) rebellious and obstinate this desire still remaineth, but so to be, is denied vs. The se­conde doubte also, by this meanes may be resolued, for that through glotteny, and venerie, we hasten our fall, and ruine. In semblable sorte the thirde also, by the sinne of Adam, by meanes where of, he fell from that originall iustice, or state of grace, whiche God before to hym, had freely geuen, and graunted, seruyng hym to moderate, his life, and each his actions. Whence immediatly began to followe this disordre, for reason that should rule, and order thinges aright, lieth subiecte vnto the will, and to euery the senses: so that it appeareth plainly, that thys peruerse order, is in no respecte naturall, but (as is saide) of fortune, and altogether casuall. By which meanes we [Page 167] here conclude, that thinges of greatest excellencie, and of assured perfection should, and ought to gouerneth others of base condition, and this neuer misseth, or faileth at a­ny tyme, as is more then plaine, in euerie the bodies, im­mixte, and celestiall, but although in manne experience shewe the contrarie, that issueth of fortune (who by hys fall hath merited not that, but greater punishment) and not at all from nature.

What ceremonies the Romaines vsed before they de­nounced warre to any prince or countrie. Chap. 5.

WHo so hath readde of the holy ceremo­nies, and religious obseruations, pra­ctised cōtinually by the aunciente Ro­maines, as wel in matters concerning peace, as in those also of warre, maie nothing at all mearuaile, of all theirs so many, and so famous victories, a­gainst suche migtie Princes, suche warlike and bluddie nations, nor on the other side might thinke it, or straūge, or els impossible, to sée the fatall ruine of this greate; and stately empire, which first of all beganne, when contem­ptuously thei first disdained these solemnities. For as we see by examples of infinite histories, by how muche the more deuoutly, they obserued the [...]boue saide vsages, so muche the more grewe this Romaine state, and empire, their capitaines also happy, and renoumed, and dreadde throughout the world, as is and maie be seen in Pompe and in Brennus, with others, more knowen, and more then I canne remember, whiche though they were in deede idolaters, voide of al knowledge, or perfecte feling of God, yet of parte it appeareth that God still was pro­pitious to the fautors of religiō, which percase might be to this, and none other ende, that as this people was ia­lous [Page] of this religion, of which thei yet had no perfect, nor none other assured grounde, so by more sure reason, they gladly should haue bene Patrones and Protectors of the true and Christian faith, if it had been to theim, as to vs it is reuealed. By the effecte it then is euident, that long tyme he kepte, and preserued theim in prosperitie, with fortunate successe in their affaires tēporall. The ceremo­nies then which the Romaines vsed in time of peace, are many and diuers, whiche I leaue to speake of, for that if I should all penne theim, I should wery, & greue percase the reader, & to speake therof to little, were iniurious in my phantasie. Wherfore I shall in this place remember fiue onely, whiche they orderly obserued before thei pro­claimed warre against any prince, or countrie, to the in­tent that Princes of our tyme may see, how muche they erre, rashlie to denoūce, warre and hostilitie, not crauing firste Gods assistaunce, his aide, and his succour: and far­ther that thei also maie knowe, that hēce onely, on them befalleth, commonly suche euill, aduerse, and finister fortune, and finally how farre in pointes of religion, thei in truthe be inferiour, to these Ethnikes, and Idolaters. Now then when newes came to Rome of any rebellion or that any prince barbarous, had inuaded their territo­ries, or that any other had doen iniurie to their confede­rates, thei immediatly sente foorthe their ambassadours vnto hym, by whiche the Senate, by faire meanes adui­sed hym, to make restitution of the domage, and wronge committed, and farther that he euer afterwarde, refrai­ned from suche incursions: whiche aduise if he estemed not, then did thei warre to bée proclaimed immediately. The Senate then hauyng chosen some capitaine for this iourney, did all their Sacrificatours, incontinently to be called, whiche receiued in commaundement, to praie vn­to their Goddes, for the happie successe, and good fortune of their people. For the Romaines went neuer forthe, to spill the blood of their enemies, before their priestes had [Page 173] bitterly wepte, and praied in their Temples. After this the Senate, beyng assembled all togither, wente in good order to the Churche of Iupiter, where solemnely thei swore al, or plighted this faith, that when so euer yet, the enemie (againste whom warre by theim was then de­nounced) would desire a truse, or peace againe with thē, or otherwise would craue pardō of his defaute, that mer­cie should not in any case be denied hym. This dooen the newe Consull, chosen for this expedition, hastneth thēce againe forthwith vnto the Capitoll, where he voweth to hym of the Gods, in whom he reposeth, or moste hope, or confidence, that he will offer, if he retourne victorious, the beste thyng that he hath, of what price so euer. And although the thyng offered, were of neuer so greate va­lue, yet were the people bound to repais it hym againe. After this an Ensigne, hauing in it an Egle (whiche was the true, and auncient armes of the Romaines) was brought out into the filde of Mars, whiche thei onely did to this ende or purpose, that the people might knowe that it was then lesse lawfull, to vse any plaies, or other pleasant spectacles, whilste that their frendes, and kins­menne, were then in filde, and in armes, and in fine the Pretor, beyng mounted on high, on one of their gates, sounded a Trumpette, to call together their Souldiars, deliueryng with the same certeine Ensignes vnto the Capitaine. Hence it appeareth, that thei neuer woulde arme themselues before thei first had appeased, and ho­nored their Gods, crauing their assistaunce in that bat­taile, or fight, against their ennimies. For if the Consull or Capitaine, assigned by the Senate, happely subdued a­ny Prouince, or Citie, not valiauntly, and honourably, but by prodition and by tretchery, he afterwarde should be punished by the saide Senate greuously. Where of we finde sundry examples, of whiche I shall remember but twoo here presently, the one of their excellent prowes and vertue, the other how thei handled one, that by a dis­honorable [Page] policie had conquired his ennimy. Fabritius on a time, with an armie of the Romaines liyng before Fi­dena, a certain scholemaister issued with his scholers out of the Citie, who supposing highly to gratifie this Capi­taine, hastely did himself to be brought into his presence, whom incontinently this Consull (although by the re­tainyng of theim, beyng as thei were, the soonnes of the most honorable, & richest of the towne, he streight should haue been receaued for their Lorde into the citie) not on­ly refused to accepte, and receaue hym, but did hym to be stripte in their presence naked, and bindyng his handes, gaue to euerie of his schollers, roddes to skurge hym, sen­dyng this traitour backe so, vnto their frendes, and Pa­rentes, by meanes whereof he wonde the hartes of the Citisens, which immediatly yelded theimselues subiect to the Romaines. On the other side, in the yere of the foundation of Rome three hundred, and eightene, warre was proclaimed by the Consuls against the Sarmates, and others the inhabitauntes of the moūtaine Caucasus, whiche as is sien in tables of Cosmographie, deuideth Asia in the midle, bandyng Scythia on the one side, and endyng in India, where by meanes of extreame colde, no Grape at all groweth. In these warres Lucius Pius was appoincted generall, where after many a bloody, and cru­ell skirmish, he sōe times gainynd the better, some times the worse. But during a truse betixte them accorded, Lu­cius royally feasted, and banketed the Capitaines of the Sarmates, and after this hauyng trained theim eftsones vnto hym, and consideryng howe they pleased muche in bousing of his wines, especially for the greate skarsnes, and wante thereof in those countries, in the ende againe inuited theim, to a solemne and riche supper, where he gaue theim of wine, in suche abundance, that thei al held theim selues, well contented of hym, yeldyng by this meanes their prouince tributory to the Romaines. This warre now so ended, and Lucius retourning home again [Page 174] to Rome, demaunded of the Senate, to triumphe, for hys conquest, which was not onely, in most disdainefull ma­ner denied hym, but also this forme of victorie was so o­dions, that thei did hym to die for it openlie, on whose Toumbe this Epitaphe, for more contempte was writ­ten: here lieth Lucius Pius Consull, who not by vertue of armes in the filde, but by banketyng dishes on his table, not with the Launce, or Sworde in hande, but with good wine that ouer ranne the Sarmates. The Senate, [...] yet contented with these excedyng cruelties, farther proclai­med throughout eache parte of Rome, that what so euer Lucius had doone, in the name of the Romaines, shoulde not be taken or reputed for any thing, and besides it was written also vnto the Sarmates, that thei againe shoulde be free, in their pristinate, and wounted maner.

That it profiteth a Prince muche to be faire and well fewtered. Chap. 6.

THe greatest matter in my iud­gement, that any waie may cō ­mende the maiestie of a Prince (speakyng now onely of graces exteriour) is the comely feau­ture, and proportion of his bo­die, accompanied with a decent grauitie, an argumente infalli­ble of pregnant sapience. And although we some times see, the rule of Pithagoras, to faile, and be lesse certaine, to wete that in a bodie crooked are crooked maners (for that vertue eftsones dwelleth in a frame lesse fined, rough hewē, and ill proportioned) yet assuredly for the moste part a man hardly shall finde the cōtrary. And albeit, that an honorable, aspect or represen­tatiō, to no other purpose, maie profite a prince, yet pur­chaseth [Page] it hym reuerence, and inlargeth his authoritie, especially if it haue alliance with bountie and honestie, as on the other side, it cōmonly is deminished by odious deformitie: for as saieth Cicero the habite of vertue, is of suche greate force, and efficacie, that it constraineth vs to loue theim, that haue her in possessiō. Euen so in a prince the maiestie of hys personage hath in it a certeine secret veneration, alluryng the hartes of his vassaules to loue hym, moued therto percase by some hidden phantasie, perswadyng theimselues, that he is both iuste, merciful, and vertuous, his life and maners conformable, to the feawture of his bodie. Hence certeine people barbarous supposed, that there was no manne of sufficiente aduice, and discretion, to accomplishe, and absolue matters, of greate charge, and importance, but such only as were by nature indued, with an ameable countenaunce, and good proportion of bodie. Macrobius reciteth that in the Isle of Neroe, borderyng on the riuer Nilus, the inhabitantes, (which liue halfe as long againe as do we) chuse continu­ally, their Prince, the most valianste, and moste beauti­fulleste personage (without regarde of his parentage) throughout their whole countrie. How be it, no man I suppose, so farre exileth from reason, that will not prefer the Prince harde fauoured beyng vertuous, before that other well fewtered, vertulis, and impious: but both be­yng of condition equall, my [...]elfe would preferre th'other before the counterfaite. Demetrius soonne of Antigonus was of a representation so honourable, and excellent, that no Painter, or Caruer, colde in his tyme be found, that durst to take on hym, in any sorte to purtraie hym: for in hym was a certeine mekenes, and terrour toge­ther, conioigned with so muche good nature, and graue­tie, that it appeared he was borne, in one, and the same instant, to be dradde together, and also to be loued. It is also writen that Marius, who so many times triumphed, was of suche a venerable, and louing coūtenance, that be­yng [Page 175] taken prisoner by his ennimie Sylla, a certeine fren­themam was sente with expresse commaundement to kill hym, who beyng entered into the Prison, with hys sworde drawen, but beholdyng there so graue, so perfect, and so feareful a visnomie was immediatly, so strangely amased, that he turning retired, & leafte the prison open, by which meanes he happely then saued his life. Alexan­der the greate, for that he was but of a small stature, and not of face most amiable of all others, walkyng with hys welbeloue [...] Ephestion, the mother of the Kinge Darius came to salue hym, and knowyng not whiche of the two was in deede Alexander, reuerenced for the kyng moste humblely Ephestion, for that seyng hym of so honorable a representation, supposed assuredly that he had been A­lexandre. The olde histories reporte, that Alcibiades, and Scipio, with others in any, honored, & aucthorised the di­gnitie of their offices, with their so reuerent, and comelie graces, withe vnited and connected, to their excellent vertues, profited not a little their common weale, and countrie On the other side we finde, that many princes, and Capitaines, as well in the olde tyme, as in this oure age: haue by meane of their base stature, liued in disdaine and contempte of many, and that some also, for that thei were deformed, were at tymes in greate hassard to haue loast their life, of whiche for examples sake; I will re­member two, the one long sith, the other of late, though we lacke not; to this purpose, infinite others. Philopome­ [...]s. Duke of the Achaiens, a man renounied, and verie honourable, was of a smale stature, euill faeste, and de­formed, so that when he was cladde in base, and [...]ile ap­parell (as was his maner eftsones to be) he rather semed to be of a vocation most abiecte, then a Prince orderyng, or gouernyng a count [...]is. This Duke pleased muche in huntyng, by meanes whereof, he often tymes came to Mega [...]la, where on a tyme [...]y earnest in followyng the chase, wente [...]other from home then was perhappes his [Page] will to haue doone, so that hee was faine to harber that night in the house of a certeine poore gentleman, in the coūtrie, one of his especiall, and assured frendes, who also had then maried very lately before, hauing onely at that tyme but one seruante in the house, hauyng sente for the his others, aboute other his affaires: when then this Duke was come to his gates, with out more he knockte a loude there at, immediatly his wife lokyng out at a windowe, demaunded whom he sought, whēce he was, and what he woulde? to whom his seruaunt aunswered, that it was Philopomines the Duke, that was come the­ther to lodge, with his frende that night. The gentlewo­man streaght amased, that on a soden she should receaue suche an honorable geaste, and supposing theim bothe at the gate seruauntes to the Duke, whiche were fore sent to aduertise theim of his comyng, and for as much as thei were but twoo onely, with out any more [...]he opened to theim the gates incontinently, the Duke then with hys seruaunt beyng entred in to the Haule, she sendeth forth a Paege with spede, to seke her husebande, whiche pre­sently was then at the nexte village, and turnyng her a­boute to Philopomines and his seruant, willed them to sitte doune, while she prouided the supper, so busied in or­dering thinges aboute the house with her maide, no lesse in truth trobeled, then almost amased, beganne now one thing, and then on other, not finishing or endyng at all a­ny thing. So seeing her matters to goe but slackly for­warde, beholdyng the Duke faste folded in his Cleake, whiche also percase was colder then hee gladly woulde haue been, (mouyng hym to laugh thereat beyonde mea­sure, desired him to put of his Cloke, and healpe to make the sire before her seruant were returned, to the intent the supper might be redie against his Lordes commyug. Than tooke Philopomines a wedge in hande, beginning to sunder Logges as fast as he coulde, hauing first secret­ly charged his seruaunte, in no thing to do him then anie [Page 176] reuerence or duetie, to the intent the poore gentlewo­man might not know him to be the Duke. Nowe while he thus labored in cleauyng of Blockes, the maister of the house in greate hast came in, who very wel knowing Philopomines, imbrased him with greate reuerence, and demaunded of hym saiyng, my Lorde what do you with these tooles in hande? To whom he aunswered with smi­lyng couutenaunce, my frende content thee, that I dooe my busines, for herein paie I the price of my deformitie. In our tyme Ferdinande Kinge of Spaine, a Prince no lesse discrete, then wise, but of stature rather little then resonable, who also though he had a Princely face, or coū ­tenance, and with the same of aduised, and politike go­uernement, the other partes of his bodie were yet lesse corespondent, besides that continually he wente appare­led in cloth, suche, and so made, that he of these that knew hym not, was rather reputed for a meane citisen, thē for suche as he was, a greate and mightie Prince. The king on a tyme nowe passynge to Naples, with his wife the Quéene Isabella, where hee at that tyme was earnestly lookte for, and arriuyng in the mornyng with one Gally onely, the others lesse redie, but folloyng after, was re­ceaued of the inhabitauntes honorably, who while hys breakefaste was then a prouidyng, whilste also the Pa­lace was then a furnishyng, walkte alone without com­pany in the greate haule, whither also at the same tyme by happe came a fisher, whiche euen then had taken a goodly greate fishe, which he there mente to present vn­to the king: but this fisher not knowyng hym in dede, de­maunded of hym, where the king might be, who inconti­nētly said; that himself was he, whereat the fisher began to laugh, supposing that he had but borded with hym me­rily, and besought hym againe to learne hym where hee was, to whom he aunswered, as before, that he was hee, but the fisher neither seeyng in hym (as he thought) any the porte, or maie [...]e of a Prince, withdrewe hymselfe [Page] with his fishe againe, wherat the king had greate sporte, and laught. And immediatly certaine courtiers entering to whō, (after their accostomed, & vsuall reuerence doone to his maiestie) the King saieth, laughing merily: gentle­men if ye geue not yonder good fellowe to vnderstande, that I in dede am the king whom he seketh assuredly we shall not taste, of that greate fishe for our breakefaste. Whiche wordes as he thus spake, the fisher againe re­turned, and seyng hym in suche sorte, on euery side hono­red, imagened that he then, was King in dede, and so fal­lyng on his knees presented to hym, his fishe. But thys happened to hym, a harmelis, a pleasant, and a mery iest, farre otherwise, then an other chaunce, which afterward betided hym, by the very like, or same occasion. For an o­ther time beeing hym selfe at Barcellona, and following the sacrament, with all his courte, in the daie of y^e solēni­zation thereof, he sodenly was assailed of a certeine Spa­niarde, which with a weightie, and long dagger, reachet hym suche a blowe on the necke, that had it not been for a greate chaine that he wore on, whiche bare of, and de­fended the greatest force therof, it very nigh had sundred his heade from the bodie. This Spaniarde was inconti­nently apprehended, and the multitude doubtyng leaste hee also hadde some consortes, the soner to force hym to confesse therein a truthe, did hym to be rackte, in moste cruell maner, but for all the tormentes that thei possibly might deuice, coulde not be brought to saie, that he hadde doone it for other cause, but that hymself, was moued in conscience, onely for the disdaine, and malice that he bare hym. And being demaunded, why he either shoulde ma­lice, or disdaine hym, aunswered for nothing els, but for his euill fauored visnomie, as also that he was so crookte, and ill fewtered, and that it so muche greued hym, that he had not dispatchte hym, as any their cruell tormentes might any waie annoie hym. Sée nowe here then, these straunge aduentures, for that not beeyng formed to the [Page 177] contentation of men, we either are refused, or disdained, walking eftesones in daunger, and perill of death.

¶ Of the horrible tyrannie of Aristotimes, a matter or subiecte not lesse fittyng for a tragedie. Chapt. 8.

ARistotimes by the onely fauour, and meanes of Antigonus tyrannously v­surped the seigniorie of Eleusis, where he ruled as Prince so intemperately, that there was no kinde of mercilesse crueltie, whiche he there practised not on the miserable, and poore citezeins: for of nature was he more bloodie, and cruell, then any one other, that liued in his tyme. And the better to in­crease this his excreable villanie, he vsed still the coun­saill, and aduise of men barbarous, to whom he not onely committed the administration, and gouernment of al the whole countrie, but with the same also the garde of his persone. Now emong other his cruelties, whiche he ma­ny committed, it shall not bée impertinent, for example, in this place to remember, that which he practised, more then tragicall, againste Philomides, a citezein very hono­ble, and of good countenaunce. This Philomides hadde a daughter, of a maruailous good grace, and excellēt beau­tie, called Micca, on whiche a certaine soldiour, that hight Lucius, well fauoured of the tyranne, became inamoured by meanes whereof, he sent to the father, that he imme­diatly, and without staie, should sende him his doughter. Philomides all amased, at this vnchaste demaunde, and with the same knowyng his aucthoritie with the tyran, dreadyng leaste percase worse should betide hym, bothe he, and his wife earnestly, intreated their doughter to go to hym. But the yong maide, whiche better loued her ho­nour, then her life, as she that had been chastly, and ver­tuously [Page] brought vp, threwe herself doune on her knees before her father, imbrasyng hym, as harde as she could doe possiblie, moste humbly besechyng hym, in no wise to permitte, that she should expose her self, to suche, and so greate a dishonor, and that he rather should hasten, to see her dedde before hym, then with suche barbarous cruel­tie, so to be deflowred. The father then moued with these her many teares, beganne also to weepe in moste bitter maner, so did the mother sobbyng, and blubberyng with paine, and hauyng now staied some little tyme, without resolution, Lucius inpatient, in his immoderate villanie, not seyng her to come, as was his commaundemente, went himself in moste furious rage to her fathers house, where findyng her, on her knees, imbrasyng her father, with thunderyng threates commaunded her, incontinē ­tly to rise, and followe hym. But she beginnyng a fre [...]e, then her moste bitter plaintes, staiyng, and refusyng to rise at his commaundement, this odious monster forra­ged, trailed her aboute the house, rentyng her apparell, not sparing to dispoile her, till she was al naked, beatyng her more cruelly, then my penne can here speake, but she with suche constaunte courage, supported this villanie, that she neither skrichete there at, or vsed any exclama­tion, shewyng her selfe ready, to indure, and tolerate, what so he would, or could dooe to her more. At the sight of whiche so horrible a spectable, the father and mother, bothe moued, in straunge maner, weepyng, and criyng, fell on their knées before hym, beseehyng hym to haue pi­tie, and compassiō, bothe on her, and them, but seyng that thei nothyng might gaine of this mercilesse lecherer, be­gan to appeale, bothe to the goddes, and menne. Where at this homicide, more wrothe then before, drew out his sworde, and slue the maide, imbrasyng her fathers knees. At whiche moste inhumane, and vnheard vilanie, Aristo [...]imes, was not onely not moued, but of the Citezeins, whiche blamed, or mislikte of this tyrannie, some he did [Page 178] to death, some others he banished, so that more then .viij. hundred, by this meane in haste fledde thence to Etolium whiche afterward wrote their earnest letters to the ty­ranne, desiryng hym that he woulde graunte license to their wiues, & children to come vnto them, whiche thyng thei could not in any wise obtaine. But certaine daies af­terward, he tretcherously did proclamation to bee made (as was the maner) vnder sounde of Troumpette that it should bée lawfull, for all the wiues of the banished, with their gooddes, and children to departe to their houseban­des. Whiche newes to these dames, was so glad, and ioi­ous, that thei forthwith beganne to make their males, and packettes, some prouidyng horses, some waggons, and Charriottes, more easily to passe theim selues, their gooddes, and their children, but at the daie appointed, being all at the gate, at whiche thei should passe, with all their waggons charged, as is fore saied, with their good­des, and children, as thei were then settyng foreward in their iourney, there came againste theim, all the garde of the tyranne, whiche with horrible threates, criyng a far of saied vnto theim, arreste ye, staie ye, whither will ye, ye harlottes? and approchyng to them, commaūded them in haste to retourne, ouerthrowyng their Charriottes, and wagons, on the grounde, with all their gooddes, and children in theim. But these women, by meanes of the presse, lesse able to retourne, ne yet to assure themselues in that tumultuous thruste, and that whiche was moste lamentable of all, thei sawe their children slaine, and dis­membered vnder horse féete, and waggons, not able to helpe them in any sorte, whatsoeuer. So that when these soldiours had chaste into their companie againe, certaine women, and children that stragled out, hopyng to haue escaped their tyrannous, and bloodie force, thei draue thē all together, as a flocke of shepe, beatyng theim, and laiyng them on, vntill thei came to the palace, where when the tyranne had taken from theim, all their money, or [Page] treasure, he did theim to bée imprisoned togither, bothe theim selues, and their children. This crueltie so muche now displeased the citezeins, whiche not knowyng how, thei beste might moue this tyranne to compassion, deter­mined to sende sixtene Vestall Nonnes, consecrated to Denis, beyng apparelled in their moste holie, and moste religious habites, hauyng also with theim, all the sacred thynges in their Churche, and so in good order, proceded the right waie to the palace, intendyng to craue mercie of the tyranne, for these women, and children. Whither when thei arriued, the garde beyng moued, with their reuerente solemnities, made theim easie passage, to the presence of Aristotimes, who arrestyng to vnderstande the cause of their commyng, perceiued at the firste, bothe what their sute was, and commyng thether, where at al wrothe, tourned hym to his garde, checkyng theim mar­uailously, for hauyng permitted these Nonnes to enter. Wherefore the garde, without any respecte, either to their, or sex, or Religion, with greate wannes that thei commonly carried in their handes, so miserablie outra­ged these poore, and innocente women, that thei moste pitifully were bothe beaten, and brused, or thei might passe out from the courte again: and farther, for that thei presumed to enter into his presence, eche of theim was condemned in twoo Talentes vnto hym. In this Citee was there a noble gentleman that hight Elanicus, twoo of whose soonnes, this tyranne had vniustly doen to die, but the fathers force (for that he was very olde, and de­crepite he neuer at any tyme feared, or suspected. This manne not longer able to supporte this outrage, this in­speakable tyrannie, and oppression of his countrie, deter­mined by some meanes to auenge hym on the tyranne. Now while these thinges thus stode, the citezeins which were fledde (as is fore saied) into Etolium, had gathered togither, a certaine companie of soldiours, entryng with them in armes, into the countrie of the Eleusions, where [Page 179] thei gate certaine holdes, whiche thei strongly fortefied, and determining to arrest there, mouyng warre so to A­ristotimes, sundrie others of the saied countrie, came dai­ly vnto them, so that quickly thei were growen to a rea­sonable multitude. By meanes whereof the tyrāne, was in suche a maruailous perplexitie, that immediately he hasteneth to the aboue saied dames imprisoned, and for that he was of nature fell, and cruell, he rather thought to obtaine of them by minasyng wordes, then by intrea­tie, or conrtuous speache, and therefore commaunded theim, with rigorous threatenynges, that thei should by Ambassadours, write vnto their housebandes, that thei immediatly lefte, and retired, from their purpose, other­wise that he would murther all their children, & whippe their wiues naked aboute the citée. To whom these wo­men would not aunswere at all any thyng, whence all in choller, with frownyng face he crieth, acquainte me, I charge you, with your determinate resolution. But this poore companie with feare all appalled, durste not to an­swere hym one woorde in the worlde, eche of theim be­holdyng, and lookyng on the others, as though thei no­thyng had accompted of, or feared his malice. Now emōg the others, was there one Megestena, the wife of Temo­leon, whiche as woll for the nobilitie of her housebande, as also for her owne rare vertues, & honestie, was as the principall, honoured of all th' others. This woman at the commyng, and entrie of the tyranne, neither would her self rise, neither would she permitte that any of the reste should, whiche at laste, when she had aduised her, of his discourse throughly, without mouyng from her seate, or doyng any other reuerence, aunswered without more as hereafter followeth. If in thee Aristotimes, were any kinde of wisedome, or discretiō, thou neuer wouldest ad­dresse thy self vnto vs sely womē, willing vs to prescribe to our housebandes by letters, what is moste expediente for them, or what thei ought to doe, but rather shouldeste [Page] sende vs safely hence vnto theim, vsyng thy self in woor­des more discrite, and sober, farther in thy deedes shoul­dest thou also be more considerate then thou lately wast, when thou in this sorte diddeste, bothe imprison, and ab­use vs. And now againe perceiuyng, that there remai­neth to thee, none other practise, wouldeste vse vs as in­strumentes, with woordes to deceiue, and delude our housebandes, as thou lately in like sorte haste abused vs, thou losest thy labour, and trauaileste in vaine, for we by thee againe, will neuer so bee betraied. Neither thincke thou them on the other side, to be in deede suche wantōs, that onely to gaine the liues, of these their children, to kepe, and saue their wiues from momentarie ignominie, thei will leaue to pursue, that whiche so honestly thei now haue enterprised, that I saie, whiche thei are bound to doe, for the libertie of their countrie: for the losse of vs, and their children, shall not be so greuous vnto theim, as thei shall be well satisfied, if thei maie deliuer their coun­trie, and their neighbours from thy tyrannie. Megestina this aboute, yet to haue saied more, the tyranne could no longer refraine his ire, but in furious rage, commaunded her childe to be brought hym, whose bloud himself threa­tened presently, to spill before her, but whilest his mini­sters sought the childe, emong the others then there pri­soners, the mother with maruailous constancie, called him by his name, saiyng: Come hether to me oh my little soonne, to th' intent thou rather dye in my handes, which tenderly loue thee, then with the sworde of so barbarous, or monster, or tyranne. These woordes more moued A­ristotimes then before, which laied his handes on his fau­cheon, incontinentely to haue slaine her: but Cilon then present, one of his familiers, staied hym, labouring to ap­peace his harde, and cruell malice. This Cilon was one of them, whiche with Elanicus secretly, sought the ruine of this tyranne, not longer able to supporte, or to indure his villanie. And in fine by good happe, so muche prenai­led [Page 180] with hym, that he did againe his sworde into his sca­berde, shewyng hym that it was a deede moste shame­full and ignominious, and of all others moste vnworthie of a prince, to laie violente hande, or dooe force on a wo­man. Shortly after a straunge, or prodigious matter be­fell, fore shewyng the assured falle, and ruine of the ty­rāne, for beyng in his bedde, hymself, and his wife, while the Cookes in the mornyng were busied, prouidyng his breake faste, an Eagle was seen to flie, with meruailons impetuositie, directly ouer the palace, lettyng fall a stone vpon the kynges chamber, presicely againste that place, where he laie in his bedde, and with the same giuyng, a greate, and loude scriche, vanished out of the sight, of all suche as behelde her. The tyranne thē awaking, through the noice of his people, which well behelde this straunge aduenture, & maruailously amased at the discourse there­of, caused to be called incōtinently a soothsaier, in whom he reposed greate truste, and confidence, to knowe (if it were possible) what this might signifie: who badde hym to be of good courage, and merie, and that this none other thyng, at all denoted, but that Iupiter had care of hym, and fauoured his doynges. But to the Citezeins, he saied the contrary, to whō he was assured, that he might vtter franckly, and without offence his minde, especially for the malice thei bare to Aristotimes, for he eftsones warranted them, that the tyranne was then threatened from heauen, and then presently liued in greatest daun­ger that was possible. Whence Elanicus with his com­panie, supposyng it not good, to protracte the tyme any longer, determined to assaile hym the nexte daie follow­yng. This night then commyng Elanicus dreamed, that one of his soonnes came to hym, tofore executed by the tyranne, whiche with a loude voice cried earnestly, and saied: father, why kepe you your bedde? why lye you now slepyng? why slacke you your matters? why staie you so long? doubte you any thyng to morrowe, to be Prince of [Page] this citée? Elanicus affiyng then maruailously in this vi­sion, hastened in the mornyng earely, to finde out his con­federates, whiche he exhorted without staie, to sette for­ward in their busines. Euen in this same instant, newes came also to Aristotimes, that Craterus was come with greate force, to aide, and assiste hym, and that thei pre­sently, incampte nigh vnto Olympia: whence he waxt so glad, and ioyous, that he then thought no occasion remai­ned more, of feare, and on a brauerie issued out of the pa­lace incontinently, accompanied onely of Cilon, not loo­kyng, or caryng for his garde, that scatteryngly a loofe, and farre of followed hym. Whiche thyng Elanicus per­ceiuyng, and thinkyng that occasion, was then well offe­red, not giuyng the signe betwixt them appoincted, lifted vp his handes, to the heauēs, and with a loude voice said: what, longer abide you, ye valiaunte, and couragious? Why shewe you not your prowes, in the middle here of your Citée? Then Cilon immediately draweth out his sworde, and slue one of theim, that in haste, was come to waite on the tyranne out of the palace. And on the other side Aristotimes, seyng bothe Trasibolus, and Lampidus assailyng hym, and supposyng to escape theim, fled to the Temple of Iupiter, where he was slaine, by the multi­tude pursuyug hym, and his bodie drawen out thence, in the sight of all men, libertie beyng proclaimed through­out the whole Citee. The multitude in heapes, inconti­nently then assēbled, but fewe yet came to see or behold, that lothsome carrion, before these women were deliue­red, whiche hastenyng to that place, ioiously honoured them, that by the death of the tyrāne, had deliuered their countrie. In the meane tyme, the people running in hast to the palace, where the Queene, aduertised of the death of her housebande, dreadyng muche that, whiche in déede insued, lockte her self vp in her closet secretly, where she strangeled herself, without the helpyng hande of any. Now had this tyranne twoo very faire doughters, bothe [Page 181] of ripe yeres, and readie to bee married, whiche vnder­stādyng of the faule of their father, withdrewe theimsel­ues, in all haste aparte, into their cabinette, whence thei incontinentely were drawen out, by force of the people, and diuers readie, violently, and without more to haue slaine theim, Megestena, with the reste of the imprisoned women, skilfully appeased that their ragyng furie, hese­chyng theim to abstaine, from the yonge gentle women, consideryng the tyranne (though other wise fell, and cru­ell) had neuer yet, thei all beyng his prisoners, imbrued hymself in the bloud of any one of thē. At the request thē of these dames, eche weight was sone appeased, whiche after cōsultation, resolued on this poinct, that with their owne handes, thei should doe themselues to dye, chusyng what death so euer, was to theim beste likyng. Then were thei bothe shutte into a chamber togither, the elder neither in gesture, nor in woorde, shewyng any kinde of sorrowe, tooke from her waste, her girdle, fastenyng it to a poaste, and beyng readie therein to dye, exhorted her sister, with manly courage to doe also the semblable: but the yongest then taking her sister by the hande, besought her moste humblie, that she might dye first, to whom the other aunswered: euen as since our cradles, hauyng still liued, and continued togither, I neuer yet denied you any your demaunde, so am I contented, to accorde you againe this your laste, and fatall sute, whiche is, that I liue vn­till you bee dedde, although of all others, this assuredly will goe nighest me, to see thee myne owne sister, to bee strangled here before me. Now tooke then the youngest in hande her girdle, whiche with trēblyng fingers moste pitifully she knotted, the other aduisyng her well, to fa­sten it aboute her necke, that she more quickly, and more easily, might paie the tribute due vnto nature▪ which she sone after her fare well giuen to her sister, dolefullie ac­complished. When she now was this paste and gone, the other stretched foorthe her bodie, in moste reuerent ma­ner [Page] possible, semblablie coueryng it, as appertaineth to the dedde. After which she tourneth about to Megestena, moste humblie intreatyng her, that after her death, she would not permitte her bodie to lie naked on the yearth, whiche her requeste, being easily graunted, she tourning strangleth herself, in the same girdle of her sister.

¶ Why, and for what causes, men rarely aspire, to the assured perfection of thynges in this life. Chapt. 9.

FIue principall thynges are there, that distourne manne from the ripe, and mature cognition of thynges in this life, whiche if he well knewe, he then might repute himself for perfecte, and wise. The firste is the ignorauncie, or not knowyng, of his ende, to wette, his not knowyng, to what ende he is borne. For assured­ly, if he well knewe it, he would no thyng lesse pain hym self, to attaine there vnto, then he presently doeth, to as­pire to pompe, and honour, in whiche (appetite rulyng hym) his onely felicitie semeth to consiste. But in this case, I maie compare manne, to a kynges soonne in his infancie, of whom, if you will aske, whiche he loueth bet­ter, the succession of a kyngdome, or els an aple, or a che­rie, whiche presently you shall offer hym, it maie not bee doubted, but he will refuse to bee kyng, to plaie with, or tast of the aple, or cherie, and that; for that tofore, he per­case thereof hath tasted: So fareth it with manne, who if he be demaunded, whiche he moste affecteth, or riches, or learnyng, he at firste will desire, to be maister of money, ignoraunt, and lesse wetyng, that the learned onely, and he alone is riche, and father, that it also is necessarie, that the sage still order, and gouerne his countrie, and that also without knowledge, honour is not honoured, but ra­ther [Page 182] becometh a note of ignominie, and slaūder, and that greate wealthe also without good letters, is the true pathe to senslis brutalitie, the roote of presumption, and accomplishemente of rusticitie: but the wise sufficeth to directe hymself, and others, posseste of these threasures, that neuer maie faile hym. But this all happeneth vnto manne, for not knowyng, to what ende he is borne. The second is, the immoderate vse of pleasures, of the minde, as well as also of the bodie, whiche bothe annoye, and droune, no lesse the exteriour motions to vertue, then the interiour also, and these of the spirite. So that manne so folded in the filthe of this worlde, maie well bee resem­bled, to the doughter of a Prince, faire, and beautifull, to whom also appertained after her father, the kyngdome, but for hauyng committed fornication, with a bond man deformed, and odious, is depriued thereof, to her eternall infamie. The thirde issueth of the euill disposition in mā ­nes bodie, whence manne, of learnyng, and good letters, for the moste parte is incapable: and this some tymes is caused, by the place of his birthe, whence he taketh to be, of an imperfecte, and impure complexion, as in certaine countries in the East, where, as in partes of Africa, men are borne so senslis, and bestiall, by meane of the extre­mitie of heate in these soiles, that thei liue as brute bea­stes, incapable of reason: and on the other side, in the coū ­tries Septentrionall, or Northe, in other some places, by extreame coldnes, are menne borne, so wilde, and sauage that some of them refuse not, to feede on mannes fleshe, suche are the Gothes, and Ostrogothes, with others. And these people maie be compared to an Egle, in whose foote there is fastened a stone, of some waight, whiche letteth her, there to flie, where by nature she desireth, to wete, aboue the cloudes, in the supreme, and higheste, region of the aire. The fowerth is the difficultie, and hardnes of the sciences, for though man see, that in harte, and minde he desire, to searche the truthe, and causes, of haute, and [Page] profounde matters, yet findyng theim so labourous, and harde to vnderstande, he vtterly giueth ouer his firste at­tempte, and enterprise, and becometh like vnto an iye, whiche to looke on the Sunne, fasteneth it self closely, whence issueth suche a pearsyng, and extreame brighte­nes, that it so eclipseth, and troubleth the sight, that it in no wise is able to looke thereon, or abide it. The laste, and worste of all the others is, a certaine affectiō, whiche manne hath conceiued in his youthe, especially in these thynges, in whiche he hath been fostered, and bredde vp, with long continuaunce afterwarde in thesame, for cu­stome easily conuerteth it self into Nature, by occasion whereof, there groweth in manne, a moste assured desire and singuler loue in these thynges, where vnto he hath been vsually accustomed, hatyng, and disdainyng conti­nually the contrary: and in this errour the whole worlde is this daie almoste drouned. For see we not the same, in the yong children of the Turkes, which before thei come to be of iudgemente, or reason, abhorre, and deteste all christianitie, as doeth also the Iewe. Againe we see, that the peasaunte, or countrie manne, for hauyng been nou­rished, and accustomed to the countrie, dieted, and appa­reiled grossely, as is their maner, flieth, and refuseth the acquaintance, or companie of the courtier, as also of these others, that liue in well ordered, and ciuill citees: whēce A prouerbe a­mong the Frenchmen. riseth this prouerbe, vnhappie is that birde, that was bredde in an euill vale, for hauyng been fostered, and still kepte in thesame, she can not at any tyme depart thence, and leaue it, though assured to bee els where better, and at more ease. Neither in this case onely, haue we experi­ence here of, but farther our selues hate straungers, and these of an other countrie, yea, though we neuer liued in their companie, or sawe them, onely perchaunce, for that we haue heard euill of theim. In women also is this er­rour notorious, to whom so muche please these thynges, that thei haue accustomed, which though thei be in déede, [Page 183] lesse profitable, or honest, yet maie thei in no wise learne, or receiue the contrary. Finally this loue, of vse, or cu­stome, with the dislikyng of that wee knowe not, is al­moste generally seen, in all thynges of election. Where­fore we muste banishe from vs, euery these impedimen­tes, to the ende we maie knowe (if it bée possible) perfect­ly to iudge, in cases of difference: for in these thynges cō ­sisteth the absolute perfection in this worlde, the pathe also is it, to felicitie in the other: followyng the good hus­bande manne, that well laboureth his soile, takyng from it first, all thistles, and euill weedes, and after bestoweth in it, as order asketh, good seede. So also the Phisition that would restore to healthe, his sicke, and weake pati­ente, pourgeth hym firste, of all his corrupte, and super­fluous humours, for that in a matter euill, and ill dispo­sed, a newe forme easily, and at the firste, is not induced. We then muste indeuour by all meanes possible, for mā that is reasonable, and yeldeth not vnto reason, but dwelleth still, as wedded, to his owne fonde apetite, is as he that would saile, on the toppe of high mountaines, or builde hym houses on the restles, and surgyng waues of the sea, whiche bothe are lesse aduised, and fruitlesse im­maginations.

How vnlawfull a thing the cumbate is, and that prin­ces ought not in any wise to permitte it. Chapt. 10.

AS by the colde charetie, and malice of men abuse is creapte into all thinges in the worlde, so falleth it out in the cum­bate, or fight of twoo, whiche in the be­ginnyng in ceirteine cases and doubtes of greate controuersie, whiche other­wise could not bee determined, or deci­ded, was then by greate princes, when hostilitie, and war [Page] first beganne to growe, vpon iust consideration honora­bly receaued. But in this our age, it now is, so common, and so abused, that euery priuate, and meane Souldiour, for little cause, or small matter is redie to attempte the cumbate against his aduersarie. And that whiche geueth me greatest cause of meruaile, is to sée that Christian princes, and none others admitte it, to whom, aboue all others it expresly is, prohibited and denied, and yet gro­weth it still, to be suche, and so common, that if God for his greate mearcies sake extinguishe not the memorie thereof, I feare me, that prelates, and churche men, will not shame at the laste as valiaunt champions to enter the listes among others. This kinde of fight is denied man, firste, and especially by gods worde, it also is denied hym by the Ciuile, and Canon lawe, it is denied, I saie, to the partie that demaundeth it, also to hym that per­mitteth, or aucthoriseth it, and in fine to all suche as would looke on, or beholde it By Gods worde we proue it, in this sorte to be denied. Euery acte by whiche GOD may bee tempted, is to a Christian expresly prohibited, for it is writen thou shalte not tempte thy Lorde, thy God. That God is tempted by this meanes, this make I it euident. To make proofe of these thinges, whiche by none other meanes, might be brought to good ende, but by the onely prouidence, and iustice of God, is no thinge els, but to proue, and tempte God, as is sinne in cases of purgation, wherit euermore is most plain, and euident, that accordyng vnto the order of nature, the strongest, and most valiant ouertroweth the weaker: but the con­trarie (whiche is that the lesse able shoulde conquire the other) neuer chaunseth but by miracle onely. To suche then in force and courage so different, enteryng the li­stes to fight the cumbate, the victory is lookte for at hys handes, that maintaineth the iuste quarell, to the intent the truthe, might bee thence aperte, and manifest: this tempte we then God, willyng that he worke herein mi­raculously, [Page 184] that whiche in dede, he should doe, if the more valiaunt were subdued, by the timorus, and impotente, whiche were cleane contrarie, to the order, and lawe of nature. Againe we maie in like sorte proue it by this ar­gument: when the lawe inhibiteth any thing, it also in­hiteth in any wise to doe that, by meanes of whiche a mā maie committe the thinge inhibited, sith then to vs, by God him selselfe, murther is nenied, the cumbate is also by the same reason denied, for that therby is committed homicide. Or other wise againe it might bee saide in this sorte: in holy wrete is forbidden euerie acte that accor­deth not with charitie, whiche is the sole grounde, and foundation of vertue, but the cumbate is an acte, that ac­cordeth not with charitie, charitie beyng none other, but the loue of God, and our neighbour, therfore the cumbate in holy write is forbidden, for who so entereth the listes, thirsteth as is euident, the bloodde of his neighbour, trai­terously rebellyng, and disobaiyng the diuine maiestie. Finally it also is forbiden by the Canon lawe, for that it followeth the rule of the Scriptures in all thinges: by that reason then that it is prohibeted in the one, it also is prohibited, and forbidden in the other. By the lawe of reason it also is prohibited, for whatsoeuer is contra­rie, or repugnant to naturall equitie, is by the lawe of reason also prohibited, whiche reason standeth grounded on naturall equitie: and natural equitie willeth, that the same that cōmitteth the crime, should for the same crime also be punished y^e innocente not hurte, or annoied in any thing, but the contrarie is ofttymes séen and knowen in this case. Againe naturall reason, on whiche is grounded (as we haue saide the staie of man) laboureth chifely for the preseruation, and augmentation of man kinde: but by this policie, the destruction, and diminution of manne kinde is hastened, this policie therefore exileth from na­turall reason. And surely no thing, maie be farther of frō loue, or naturall reason, then is this vniust practise of the [Page] cumbate, for therin are permitted men to murther each the other, for whom our sauiour paide that inestimable price of his death, and bloodshedde. Also in this sorte may we argue againste it, no man ought to purchase to hym­selfe honour, or profite, by the detriment of an other: or this, no man ought to wishe to an other, that whiche hée coulde not be contented, to wishe to hymselfe: but in the cumbate is euident both the one, and the other, for that who so demaundeth it, searcheth his owne glorie, by the ignomious deprauation, and detrimente of an other, to wete of hym against whō he fighteth, his neighbour: and wisheth also to hym, that whiche he, in déede, lesse would to hymselfe, I meane both to subdue, and kill hym. The cumbate is therefore vtterly to bee refused. Out of the Ciuill law, we also in this sorte maie argue: the law pro­hibiteth euery acte, by which iustice either is, or maie be­denied to any, but in this case it eftsones is denied to the innocēt, for he falleth in the listes, & his aduersary trium­pheth, by the saide lawe therefore it cometh to be denied.

Of the greate constancie of the Aritafila, with her honest policie, and deliuerie of her Countrie. Chap. 11.

THe constancie of the noble Aritafila, of Cyrena, meriteth to be spoken of in al tymes, and ages. The doughter was she of Eglator, and wife to Fedim, whiche in noblelesse and wealth was reputed for one of the worthiest in that Citie: she also in beautie no lesse excelled, then she did in witte, with a merueilous facili­tie, and swetnes in talke. It chaunsed nowe that Nico­crate, Some reade Nicocreon. cruelly, and tyrannously oppressing the countrie, had doen to death diuers honest Citisens, and among o­thers his execrable, and intollerable villanies, hee also executed Melnaipus Apollo his préeste, to th' intente him selfe might vsurpe the office sacerdotall. Shortly after [Page 185] by dishoneste gyle, he did Fedim also to die, the huseband of Aretafila, takyng her to wife by force, and against her will, not leauyng from tyme tyme, to abuse the poore Ci­tisens, waxing euery daie more fell, and more cruel then other, so that on a time in his rage, and furie, he bloodde­ly flewe a greate number in one instant, and for that the vsage was to burie theim without the Citie, was aduer­tised, that diuers liuyng, were noised to haue been of the nūber slaine, to the intent thei might be carted out of the towne among y^e deade, so to eskape his impacable malice, by meanes whereof he sente a greate troope of his Soul­diars, immediatly & in all haste, to kepe the gates, which with long weapons, and péekes of Iron, redde hoate with the fire, punchte, and pearste all that past theim in moste vnreuerent maner, by that meanes to make proofe, whether any there liued or not. These thinges displeased muche Aretafila his wife, whiche moued to greate com­passion, through the loue she bare to her countrie, besides that she hated hym, for his tyranny executed against her best beloued Fedim, determined, in fine, to hassarde her life, to bereue the tyranne (if it were possible) of his. And although Nicocrate most ardently loued her, not leauing any paine to please, and contente her, yet coulde hee not for all that alter her honorable determination: so that when all the other Citisens through the greate force of the tyranne, were all in dispaire, of fréedome, or libertie, she alone still continued, in assured hope and confidence, by some meane to dispatche him and to deliuer her coun­trie. For the more assured performance of this her deter­mination, she calleth to memorie the noble valiauncie of Ferea that renoumed Thebane, whose courage, & vertue she determined in the accomplishemēt of this so greate, and weaghtie a matter to imitate, and followe, and for that she had none assistantes, as had the other many, she resolued to impoison hym, in cloase and secrette maner, by meanes whereof her selfe, was, in greate daunger of [Page] death, as shall bee here after saide, for that she eftsones failed, with such conuenient oportunitie to minister her potions, as her selfe still desired, and at last suspected and taken with the maner, was not able to excuse her selfe, with manifeste proofes, conuicted of that folly. Whence Caluia the mother of the tyranne, whiche more then fa­tally hated her, and as a woman of fell, and mearciles courage, perswaded with her soonne to execute her in most shearpe, and cruell maner. But the greate loue that Nicocrate baere her, with her assured constancie, and va­liant courage on the other side, aunsweryng so wisely to euery her accusers, caused that her death was not haste­ly pursued: howbeit after long and many examinations, beyng moste plainly, and apertly conuicted, not able to excuse her selfe, but that she had prouided it, in the pre­sence of the iudges, she boldly saide this much. I confesse my Lorde, and husebande, that this drincke by me was, and by none other prouided, of purpose to haue geuen, or bestowed it on you, but not that I euer thought, or in a­ny wise knew that it was either noisome, or venemous, but continually I supposed it to be a confection amorous, for seyng that I was enuied of sundrie Ladies, and gent­lewemen, especially for that it pleased you so well to thincke of me, as also for that they see me aduaunced in honour aboue theim, and doubtyng leaste they might al­lure you, by some meanes also to fauour theim, I proui­ded this potion, to increase, and continue your good affe­ction towardes me. Wherefore if I any thing haue here­in offended, surely I ought not in trothe to bee punished, for that onely loue, to attempte it, and no thing els hath moued me, and not as some would, or malice or rancour, and yet neuer the lesse if I must be punished, death haue I not deserued as an impoisoner, but as a woman that through to muche loue haue deuised inchauntmentes, or licours amatory, to force her husebande no lesse to loue her, then she bothe hath, and doeth loue hym. Thus she [Page 186] with a sober countenance, and like grace, in defence of her selfe, semed of parte to haue satisfied, and contented the tyranne, wherefore, he would not that she should in any wise bee doone to death, but commaunded, that she should bee laide on the racke, where through tormente she might aunswere a truthe to eache demaunde. Caluia now prouided with diligence the rancke, doyng her to be tormented in moste cruell maner, besides that her selfe also in person leafte not to plaie her parte therein, vntill at the laste she was as werie, as was possible for her to be. How be it, Aretafilia confeste no thing at all: by mea­nes whereof she was in the ende deliuered, and receaued as inculpable, by the tyranne Nicocrate, which sorrowed mearueilously, for that he had doone her in suche sorte to betormented, and beyng vanquished with loue, practised with giftes, and iuels, to reconcile her againe vnto hym. But she as a wise, and prudent dame, fained that she could not but loue hym continually, but hauyng laide vp in her bosome the memory of these tormētes, attended y^e time onely, and place, to auenge her, and whilste she of­ten tymes deuised with her self how she best might accō ­plishe it, beholde this occasion, in happie time offereth it selfe. She had by Fedim a doughter of rare, and excellent beautie, vertuous with the same, and verie well nurte­red, as also Nicocrate a brother that hight Leander, yong, and dissolute, hauntyng in euerie corner, the companie of women, whom notwithstandyng to acquainte, with this her doughter, in secreate, & cloase meane she labored continually, in suche sorte that by inchauntmentes, and other pretie confections, whiche had been for the more spedie accomplishment hereof taught her, she easely con­strained him to loue and like her, principallie for that the maide, was by her mother tofore instructed, to shew him what in her was, al notes of loue, and loialtie. After this, she so wrought here in, tha Leander besought his brother to geue him this maide for wife, and companion in [...]ead, [Page] whiche he easely obtained, by the consente of Aretafila. This marriage now solemnised, Leander that loued be­yonde measure this yong dame, neuer had his fil, or was satisffied in disportyng with her: wherfore on a night by the counsell of her mother, she perswaded with hym to procure the death of his brother, to attempte and take in hande a matter so honorable, as was that by his death, to deliuer his coūtrie from tyranny. And farther she ad­ded, that he might be assured, that the Citisens in recom­pence thereof, would chuse hym for their Kinge, besides that, if he did it not, if happely his brother by some other meanes were slaine (which was impossible for him long to eskape) that his life also then coulde not be but in has­sarde, laiyng euidently before him, by manifest exāples, the execrable, and barbarus crueltie of his brother, which onely depriued not the Citisens of their libertie, but also him that was his naturall brother, and that this is true, saide she, consider that it was not in thy choise, to take to thee a wife, but that thou first must become, a long, and humble sutor. Leander thē at the perswasion of his wife, at that instante resolued to conspire the tirannes death, especially vnderstandyng, that it well pleased Aretafila. Wherefore breakyng, and impartyng with Dannides, his moste trustie, and assured frende, did by his helpe, and aduise therein so muche, that he shortely after had slaine hym, hymselfe crouned king, and Prince of the countrie, whence he streight grewe, to be of suche puissant auctho­rity, that he by little, and little contemned Aretafila, and her coūsels, so that he rather made it euident vnto all the worlde, that he was an homicide, and murtherer of hys brother, and not a conspirer of the death and fall of the tyranne, for continually he gouerned the people with iniustice, although hee yet againe afterwarde somwhat beganne to reuerence, and honour his mother in lawe. Wherfore preuely by letters, and messengers sent him, she perswaded with Anabe a Lybian borne, a capitaine [Page 187] couragious, and verie fortunate (seiyng that she had not yet deliuered her countrie from tyranny, mindyng also to dispatche hym as the other) to enter in armes on the territories of Leander, whiche he did, and being entered, with his whole armie, she calleth Leander, and immedi­atly telleth him, that neither were his capitaines equall either in experience, or prowes to these of the ennimie, and that it should also lesse aduauntage hym, to muche to truste, or affie in his people, not yet so surely planted, as he supposed, in that citie, wherefore her aduise was, that he should by all meanes, labour to pacifie, and appeace the wroth of Anabe, promising that her self would finde some waie for hym, gently, and quietly to conferre at ful with hym. This counsell of his mother in lawe pleased well Leander, by meanes where of she laboured, to bring theim both together: howbeit, before the time of meting appointed, she sente certeine assured, and secreate messengers to Anabe, humbly intreatyng hym, that when Le­ander came to hym, that he either would kill hym, or at the leaste retaine hym prisoner, promising to requite hym therefore, to his full contentation. Whervnto this Lybian accorded, promising most faithfully to accōplishe her demaund. But Leander of nature feareful (as cōmon­ly are all, & euerie these tyrauntes) differred, and prolon­ged from daie to daie this Parle: till at length through the earnest instigatiō of Aretafila, who charged him both with inconstancie, and cowardise, especially for that her selfe woulde goe to the ennimie with hym, wente forth all vnarmed, at last to mete with Anabe, whom when he sawe commyng with a certeine companie with hym, he arrested hym saiyng that he would go no farther, but all amased with feare, woulde then sende for his Garde. Whence she some tymes incouraging hym, some tymes also with rough wordes reprouyng hym, did still her bu­sie paine to pushe, and thruste him forwardes, and in fine tooke hym her selfe by the arme, as well to harden hym, [...] [Page] [...] [Page 187] [Page] as by force also to drawe hym, till in the ende she waS come to Anabe with hym, into whose handes she deliue­red hym captiue, and prisoner, who curiously then, and safely kepte hym, vntill hee hadde receaued the whole summe of mony promised hym. After this she returned into the Citie againe, where she discloased (as is aboue saide) the whole order of this matter, vttering euery her polices practised for the deliuerie of her countrie. Which knowen, this mony was immediatly gaithered, and sent as was promised, forth with to Anabe, whiche also deli­uered Leander in chaines to hys mother in lawe, whom she againe committed to the keepyng of the magistrate, by whose commaundement he was cloasde vppe, into a greate sacke of Leather, and cast into the Sea, such was his endyng: Caluia his mother was also burned. Now all the countrie came runnyng to Aretafila, and fallyng on their knees did her the greatest honour that was in anie wise possible, especially for that, with such and so greate hasarde of her person, she had deliuered her countrie out of the handes of two tyrantes: and farther in recōpence of these her demerites, they chose her gouernesse (to bee assisted with certeine others) of their countrie: whiche she courtuously (as was her maner) and thāckfully acce­cepted, painyng her self in the administration of iu­stice vntill all thinges were reduced in to per­fect, and quiet state, and afterwarde ge­uyng vppe her office in to the han­des of the Senate, withdrewe her selfe in to a house of religion, a­mong Noonnes, where she liued in contemplation, and prai­er the residue of her life.