THat most renowmed Lorde Don Al­fonso d'Este, the second of this name, and through our happie fortune, at this instant Duke of Ferrara, liueth with so great magnificence, that his highnes court seemeth rather a king­ly and Royall Pallace, then the court of a great Duke: for it is not onely throughout replenished with noble Lordes and valiant Knights, but further, is a receptacle for the most learned and gentle spirits, as likewise for men that in euerie profes­sion are most excellent. This Prince (out of question) in al his actions verie respectiue, tempereth so his affaires with leisure, and with so great order measureth & dispenseth the time, that neither doth he weaken himselfe with the ouer­burdensome meditation of matters serious, or languish and weare away with the too great leuity of things delightsome [Page 2]and pleasant. And therefore his highnesse hath allotted to euerie season his proper and particular entertainement, as to the Carniuale time or shrouetide, masking, Iusts, Tur­uey, feasts, Comedies, musick, and other such like content­ments, the which with such peace and tranquility are em­braced, as it is a wonder in that time to behold the generall exhilleration and Iubile of our Citie. In the Spring time they hunt the Foxe and slie their Faulcons in the great Bar­co, which enuironeth the north quarter of the City, where in certaine standing waters and martish grounds, they finde many wilde ducks, for the flight of the Riuer. And there be certaine houses called Sgarzare, wherein Herons be enclo­sed and kept, being a most pleasant sight to beholde his highnesse, when with his court, he entreth into that large Medow, accompanied by the nobility of the Citie, mounted on goodly horses, and followed by the most excellent Du­chesse, with all the Ladyes and Matrons of the noblest sort, riding in most sumptuous Coaches: where after they haue flowen at the riuer, they approch the Sgazare, and let flie the Heron, who no sooner mounteth, but incontinently they cast off the Faulcon, who maketh after: and thus with sin­gular solace they stand beholding this battaile in the aire, made by these two most hot and cruell foules. Then in the ardent heate of summer, his highnesse with the famous Du­chesse and the whole court, retire themselues to Belriguardo, being questionlesse a royal Pallace, wherein are to be seene as manie roomes, as there be dayes in the yeare, with cham­bers, galleries, and hals so great, as therein men may conue­niently play at ballown. There are also most beautiful gar­dens, abounding with al manner of fruit, waterd from the Riuer of Poe, by conueyances, which by his highnesse with wonderful art, were thither conducted, which neare the said Pallace cause certaine mils to grinde, with a faire and ample fish-pond, where there is alwaies found great store of fish: and the water in this pond being most cleare, it serueth very conueniently to swimme in, being as it were continually [Page 3]shadowed by verie high popplar trees, which do enuiron it. While his highnesse remaineth in this Pallace, he keepeth open Court, so that the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen of the City, are alwayes comming and going: as furthermore, al such are there lodged, that come for audience, and to negotiate with his highnesse, neare whom euer the Coun­sellors and secretaries are resident. Here the hottest part of the day is passed ouer with delectable entertainment: when towards the euening his highnesse with the Duchesse, La­dyes, and Gentlemen (being a most excellent sight) go­eth to fly the Sparrehawke) killing aboundaunce of Phe­sant and Partrich, where of in those fields there is store and plenty. In the end of Autumne, his highnesse, the Lady Du­chesse, and all the court, with other gentlemen and gentle­women of the City, goeth to the sea side, where among o­ther delightsome habitations, neare to Port Goro, in a parke called the Mesola, hee hath built a sumptuous pallace, the which parke his Highnes certainly with heroical expence, hath compassed with a wall, which is twelue miles in circu­ite, with foure gates, placed according to the foure quarters of the heauens, the which are kept shut, that the beasts may not go out, being likewise to open, as occasion requireth. Herein interchangeably they take diuers delights, somtime fishing in the sea by draught, and otherwhiles in hunting, and at al these pastimes the excellent Duchesse is euer pre­sent with all the dames and matrons, who with great con­tentment take pleasure in the cliase. For the huntsinen en­ter with their dogges into the wood, and forcibly procure the wilde beasts to issue forth into certaine large open pla­ces made for the purpose, where there be dogges placed for the nonce, and Gentlemen, some on foot with long bro­ches, others on horse backe, with speares and iauelins: and thus with notable agilitie, they kill boares, harts, and other, beasts, so that we may truly say, that in the world there is not a Prince enioyeth more excellent chase, or commodious fi­shing then here is. Afterwards in the euening the Court re­turned [Page 4]to the pallace; while supper, the time is spent in ma­ny pleasant entertainements: Wherefore his Highnesse, ac­cording to his wont, being the last yeere towards the end of Autumne in the said place, and the most famous Duchesse, accompanied with thrise noble Gentlemen, and gratious Dames, amongst whome was the honourable Lady Coun­tesse of Sala, the two right illustrous and most beautifull si­sters, the Lady D. Marfisa, and Bradamante; the Lady Leono­ra Tieni Couotesse of Scandiano; the Lady Isabella Bentiuoglia Marquesse of Galtieri; the Lady Camilla Costabili, the Lady Lucretia Calcagnina; the Lady Victoria Tassona; the Lady Ca­milla Beuelacqua; the Lady Lucretia Machiauella; the Ladie Camilla Mosti; the Lady Anne Strozza; the Lady Tarquinia Molza; the Lady Leonora Sacrati, with other Ladies and Matrons of account, besides the Gentlewomen of the re­nowmed Duchesse. When his Highnes desirous to go down to the sea side, to procure the nettes to be drawne, he made it knowne to the Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, that while they were abroad, his minde was, that euery one might law­fully betake himselfe to that contentment, which was to him most acceptable. Whereupon one part of the Gentlemen, the Lady D. Marfisa and Bradamante, and other Gentlewo­men of the Court, accompanied his Highnesse, and the Duchesse to the sea side: but the greater part, especially of women, vnto whome the sea winde in the end of Autumne was not pleasing, went to the Pallace, to the end that with some delightsome entertainement, they might passe the time till the returne of his Highnesse. The Countesse of Sala for her quiet, had retired herselfe into her lodging a­part, vnto whome all the Gentlemen and Ladies resorted, to manifest vnto her their fauour and good will, as also to bee partakers of her most gratious conuersation. The Ladie Countesse therefore, seeing so faire and honorable an assem­bly in her chamber, as she that is the inuentrice of fresh and honest contentments, me thinkes said she smiling, that soul­diers can hardly keepe their ranckes without an head, and [Page 5]therefore, I would aduise, so it be pleasing to you Lords and Ladies, that by lot we chuse out amongst our selues (to auoid enuy) who ought to commaund, and that her empire may continue til the returne of his Highnes. This motion by the Countesse propounded, was of all the whole company com­mended. The lotte fell to the Lady Countesse of Scandiano, and with great ioy she was crowned with a garland of Law­rell leaues. This vertuous Lady the Queene, peraduenture of more than one heart, considering that in this noble con­course, there were the most learned and flourishing wittes of all the Court, desirous to heare them discourse of some matter that might be contenting, and acceptable to the whole company, spake thus: Amongst all the things which administer delight and wonder, it seemeth Beauty holdeth the chiefest place, the which is so much the more admira­ble, in that she by few being perfectly knowne, is notwith­standing by euery one beloued, which thing I with my selfe hauing oftentimes considered, it maketh me enter into a sin­gular desire to vnderstād, what maner of thing this is, which we terme Beauty; whether truely she be to be found in the world, or that we forge such a matter, in our fantasie, percey­uing euery day, by experience, that what to one seemeth de­formed, to another appeareth beautifull. Seeing therefore a fauourable starre and gentle fortune haue exalted me to so great Empire, and that I may commaund ouer the diuinest wittes, I determine to satisfie my honest desire: I enioyne you therefore Signior Francesco Patritio, vnder paine of the losse of my fauour, (the which hitherto I haue vouchsafed you) to discourse vpon Beautie, endeuoring in the best ma­ner you can to giue me satisfaction.

This Signior Patritio is a Gentleman of Dalmatia, a man very learned, but especially in Platonicall philosophie, who hauing bene a little buffeted by Fortune, in the end retiring himselfe into the sanctuary of mē literate (for so is the court of this Prince) he was with honorable regard, by his High­nesse embraced. Rising vp therfore, and making reuerence: [Page 6]This curtesie of your Maiestie, thrice famous Queene (said he) hath beene great and singular, hauing before any desert on my part vouchsafed me so great a reward, as to bee made woorthy of your Maiesties fauour. And whatso greeuous punishment can be imagined, that to the losse of this, may be compared; but as with so gratious a gift I remaine com­forted, so vpon some further consideration, I finde my selfe altogether perplexed & doubtfull, because in obeying your commandement, I am sure not to satisfie your desire, know­ing my owne insufficiencie to intreate of so high a subiect, as is Beautie: and by disobedience I should incurre the pe­naltie set downe, the which I much more feare than death it selfe. To ouoyde therefore so greeuous punishment, I will make no doubt to expose my selfe to so great an enterprise, hoping, that as those blessed intelligences, in their spheres, illuminations and motion, infuse that, whereof the beautiful of-spring of Nature in this inferior world is deriued, so that these resplendant intelligences which are heere placed so neare our hearts, reuerberating vpon me their most glitte­ring beames will kindle light, and stirre vp motion in my obscure and dull vnderstanding: from whence conceits and words may spring, apt not only to discouer that participa­ted of, but euen essentiall and true beauty. Notwithstand­ing we (most famous Queene) hauing Beauty before our eies, leauing the first demand, pertaining onely to the blind, and searching out what thing this is which we call Beauty, I will affirme, that it is no other but a most pretious qualitie, which shineth in the vniuersall frame, growing from pro­portions or colours, or from the one and the other, together, brought foorth by the chiefe Creator, to no other end, but with wonder and delight, to kindle loue in those mindes, which can comprehend it. Desiring therefore to make knowne, that this my definition is perfect, and vnder it that all things else be comprehended, it is necessary, that discoursing somewhat more deepely, I do shew the proper and particular beauty of all those things, which in the vni­uersall [Page 7]frame of this world are of beauty capable. I say then, that as this great worke which we call the world, is known by sense, and by vnderstanding conceiued, so is it druided into two partes, the one of which we terme the sensible, and thother the intelligible world: the sensible world hath two parts one subiect to vicissitudal generation and corruption, & it is this world which wee enioy, being so deare to vs, the other is the celestiall world, subiect to no other transmuta­tion, but onely locall motion: the corruptible worlde is contriued of the foure Elements, Earth, Water, Ayre, and Fire, as likewise of all things mixed: whereof some be per­fect, and others vnperfect, and of the perfect some be liuing, othersome without life: of liuing things, some haue onely the soule vegetatiue, others haue vegetation, and sence: and and the third sórt enioy both vegetation, sense, and also rea­son. Imperfect mixtions, so called, because they want little of being simple, are the vapours, whereof all those imper­fect mixtions are generate in which moisture beareth sway, as deaw, frost, mistes, clowdes, rayne, snow, tempests, and such like; and exhalation the mother of all such things, in which heate and drynesse preuaile, as are lightnings, thun­ders, thunderbolts, windes, falling starres, comets, and other like impressions, which are ingendred in the highest region of the ayre; the perfect mixtions without life, are stones, pretious gemmes, and mineralles: liuing things, tetaining vegetation, are plants, hearbes, and all sortes of fruites: li­uing things hauing both vegetation & sense, be vnreasona­ble creatures, of which som be imperfect, others perfect; the imperfect be those which haue no other sense, but feeling and imagination confused: and therefore they liuing halfe a life, are recounted betweene plants and liuing creatures, as oysters, muscles, sponges, and other such like creatures, fa­stening vnto stones: creatures perfect be all the other sorte, whether they be beasts on the earth, fish of the sea, or foules of the ayre; the liuing creature possessed with a soule vegeta­tiue, sensible, and teasouable is onely man. The celestiall [Page 8]world, although it be al of one selfe same substance, and that it seemeth at the first sight one heauen alone, yet notwith­standing by diuers motions wee learne, that it is distributed into ten spheares: the first of which ascending vpwarde, is the spheare of the moone, the second of Mercurie, the third of Venus, the fourth of the Sun, the fift of Mars, the sixt of Iupiter, the seuenth of Saturne, the eight of the starrie fir­mament, the ninth and tenth, the one of which (if the positi­on of Astrologers be true) giueth motion trepedatiue, and the other motion diurnall, called therefore the first mouer. The intelligible world is comprehended by many and di­uers orders of blessed soules and spirits, the lowest of which is mans soule, and after that ensueth the not erring intelli­gence, called the soule of the world and Nature, for the three effects, she produceth in this vniuersall frame, for in as much as she giueth life & preserueth the world, she is tear­med the soule of the world, and in that she imprinteth into matter with the seale of diuinitie, al formes generatiue and corruptible, she is called nature: lastly because she directeth euerie thing depriued of vnderstanding, to their ende, shee is tearmed intelligence neuer erring. This is she (most fa­mous Queene) that procureth the birds with so great indu­strie to build their nests, she imprinteth naturall desire of generation in all creatures, and contemning their own pro­per commodity, with great care and labour to bring vppe their yong. She maketh the Bee and Ant to prouide in sum­mer, for the future wants of winter, and to conclude, it is shee that is alwaies intentiue to the good of the whole world. The Angelical spirits follow, being the most noble orna­ments of the celestial spheares, diuided into many Hierar­chies: the first of which wholly enflamed with diuine loue, is that of the Seraphins, the second of the Cherubins, all replenished with incomprehensible knowledge, in the third be the thrones faythfull secretaries of the celestiall minde: then follow Dominations, Powers, Principalities, the An­gels and Archangels: aboue whome sitteth as perfect, the [Page 9]first vnderstanding, being the most excellent & great God, who immouable, draweth and conioyneth all the other vn­derstandings, as of them be loued & desired, to himselfe. As this vniuetsall worke is diuided into two parts, the one cor­poreall and sensible, the other incorporeal and intelligible, so be there two beauties, the one sensible, the other intelli­gible. But in that the beginning of all our knowledge, is de­riued from sense, we will first intreate of Beauty sensible: the which is no other but that most gratious qualitie, which shi­neth in bodies sensible, springing from proportion or colors or together both from the one & other, which administring delight, produceth loue in those minds that can comprehēd it. And because bodies sensible are of two sortes, that is, sim­ple, as the heauen and foure elements be, or compounded as albodies mixed are, we must obserue, that of all bodies sim­ple, Heauen onely may bee termed beautifull, for the e­lements being incapable of proportion, light & colors, they cannot properly be called beautifull. Leauing them there­fore apart with the mixed bodies, that com not much short of being elements, we will affirme, that sensible beauty only in heauen, and bodies perfectly compounded is compre­hended, which notwithstanding is not all one, but as com­pounded bodies be diuers, so are there beauties distinct and different: in that some are compounded of like partes as stones, pretious gemmes and mineralles, others of parts vn­like, and in themselues dissenting, as plants, and liuing crea­tures. We wil then auerre, that both the beautie of heauen, and of compounded bodies of partes vnlike consisteth only in colours, for though the beautie of things compounded of partes different, consisteth in proportion and colours; yet of some the beautie confisteth principally in colors, as likewise of othersome in proportion. The beauty therefore where­with heauen is adorned, is no other but his most bright end shining colour, which doth not onely make heauen beau­tifull, but further, is an occasion, that al other sensible beu­tie is faire and apparant. The beautie of stones consisteth in [Page 10]their colours, as of marble, porpherie, alabaster, and such like. That of the diamond in his white and excellent colour, like to the starres, as also the beautie of the rubie is in his red and cleere colour. The beauty of mineralles also consisteth in colours; for gold in colour like to the Sunne, receiueth his brightnesse; and siluer in whitenesse resembleth the Moone, and so all other mettalles by their proper colours are estee­med faire and beautifull. Plants haue their beautie in pro­portion, and colours; but more specially in proportion. That of hearbs and floures, consisteth rather in colour than pro­portion: but the beautie of creatures irrationall, is placed principally in the proportion and correspondencie, that the partes betweene themselues, haue with the whole, and farre lesse depending on colour. Mans beautie consisteth in pro­portion, and in splendor of his proper and well placed co­lours: But in that I reserue the discussion of humane Beau­tie, to the end of this my discourse, we wil now leaue it. And that no Beautie may remaine vntouched, before we passe o­uer to the Beautie of the world intelligible, we will speake somewhat of artificiall Beautie, seeing things artificiall also are termed beautifull: and amongst those artificiall, I place Poesie, and Speach or Oration, the one being gouerned by Arte Poeticall, the other by the Art of Rethorike. And as we find quantitie both in the one and other, so in them both proportion, and colours Poeticall and Rethoricall are com­prehended; yet these are not knowne by sense, but by the minde and vnderstanding, wherefore the beautie of Poesie and Oration, ought to bee called an artificiall intelligible Beautie, differing from other beauties artificiall, which by the sense of seeing onely are comprehended. The beautie therefore of things artificiall, being as it were the image of those naturall, consisteth as well in colour as proportion; yet in some we consider only proportion, as in statues, buildings and other like, which proceede from manuall Artes, in which there is little reckoning made of colours. In some o­ther things the beautie remaineth in colour; and these bee [Page 11]such as depend on the Arte of Weauing, as clothes of silke, wooll, linnen, and such like. The beauty of plants is respe­cted both in one and other, that is, in proportion and colors: And let this spoken, be sufficient for Beautie artificiall.

Now passing ouer to that Beautie which onely with the eyes of the soule is comprehended (being Beautie intelli­gible) beginning from the lowest, and is that which is found in the soule of man. I saye, that as the Beauty of humane bodie (as we wil shew) is placed principally in the superiour part, which regardeth heauenly light; so the Beautie of mans soule is found in the more eminent parte of the same, the which is exposed to diuine light. This is called vnderstand­ing, by which our soule conceiueth and knoweth, not only the being of things corporeall & sensible, but also by meane of thinges visible, raiseth it selfe to the knowledge of those inuisible, so that as we obserue the soule of man to be com­pounded of parts and diuers parcells, so the same soule from the consent of partes and colours, receiueth his excellencie: colours are no other but intelligible kinds, placed in the vn­derstanding, which with colours haue the like similitude, as the visible colours themselues, and these may be termed in­telligible; for as colours are not actually visible, neither can their beauty by bodily eie be seene, if first that eie, and those colours, be not by some light, and especially by the light of the first visible (which is the Sunne illuminated, so the forms and intelligible kindes of our vnderstanding (which is the eie of the soule) cannot be comprehended, if first that vn­derstanding and those intelligibles, bee not by the light of superior vnderstanding cleered and illumined. These in­telligibles, which placed in vnderstanding, do make it ab­solutely perfect and beautifull, be of two sortes: some be in­telligibles of trueth, others intelligibles of good: those of good be decking our soules with prudence, fortitude, tempe­rance & iustice, make them most beutiful: those of truth ap­parel them with two pretious habites, wisedom & sapience, throgh which habites, our souls becom like to diuine beuty: [Page 12]proportion, by which one parte of the soule with admirable symetry answereth to the other, is no other but a famous ver­tue, which maketh our soule so faire & beautiful, that if with bodily eyes it might be contemplated, it would produce in vs incredible loue, and wonderfull affection: this by the eie of the minde is onely discouered, being more excellent than a thousand bodily eyes; and therefore in those whose minde is not blinde, it bringeth foorth affections not onely wonderfull, but out of doubt such, as neither by the tongue can be expressed, nor by the mind comprehended.

According to order, the Beauty of the worldly soule fol­loweth, called Nature, and intelligence not erring, whose beauty in like manner is obserued in colours and pro­portion. Colours are no other, but diuine Ideaes infused in the same soule: and proportion is nothing else, but an ex­emplat forme, of superior vnderstanding imprinted in the said soule, after whose image by the seale of diuinitie, it ma­keth matter deformed, beautifull. The beauty of Angelles diuided into diuers Hierarchies, as wee haue saide, is no o­ther but Angelicall vnderstanding, garnished, and re­plenished with all formes intelligible by vnderstanding di­uine. These of all vnderstandings, haue the greater propor­tion to receiue celestiall splendor, as those who beeing al­wayes present, do face to face beholde diuine Beauty: and therefore those Angelicall vnderstandings, are alwayes in action of intelligence, and are made beautiful, after suche a sort, as of deformitie they are vncapable, which is not in humane intellect, by reason it is not euer in action of in­telligence, and is capable as well of deformitie as beauty. For when the soule abaseth it selfe with cogitations, and intimation in the obscuritie of sensible delights, the conceit of Beauty remaineth extinct and darkened; but when it is exalted to the contemplation of things supernall, exposing it selfe to celestiall light, then procureth shee her owne na­tiue beauty, to be cleere and excellent. Hitherto (most fa­mous Queeue) we haue intreated of sensible and intelligible [Page 13]Beautie, in as much as it is Beautie participated of.

Now remaineth it vnto vs to discourse of true & essential Beauty, by mean of which al things created are so much the more fayre, by how much the more they are partakers of it, This is found in the first vnderstanding, beeing the most mighty and excellent God, creator and giuer of all Beauty: because he alone is absolute perfection, perfect wisedome, and incomprehensible Beauty: especially not to be compre­hended by our vnderstanding: the which at contemplation of diuine essence, remaineth no lesse obfuscate, then is the eye of a Bat in beholding the sun. Hauing therefore to dis­cusse vpon so high a subiect, I will endeuour to the vtter­most of my wit and capacity, to direct your maiestie to the contemplation of essentiall and true diuine Beautie, by those meanes which are granted vnto vs by the Creator: For he hath not equally distributed his Treasures. Angelicall vnderstanding is replenished by the chiefe creator, essenti­ally with all formes intelligible, and to it is permitted the cōtemplation of diuinity face to face. Intellect humane, in as much as it is vnited to the material body, depriued of all in­telligibles, (as a plaine & smoothe boord) is yet in potential power to receiue all the formes & intelligible representati­ons, the materiall & sensible, by theyr own Ideas, and the immaterial and insensible by anothers, or in anothers like­nes & similitude: & therefore al our knowledge proceedeth from sence, things sensible being the true meanes which guide to the knowledge of those intelligible, being as it were similitudes and representations of them. By these re­presentations therefore & similitudes, I wil seeke to make known diuine & true Beauty, the which consisteth, though in a most supereminent manner, in colour & proportion, for it is a thing most certaine, that this sensible light is no other but a bright colour, colour being likewise nothing els, but a shadowed & obfuscate light, seeing it is generate, not only by the mixtion of the first qualities, but also by light and shado: wthere is this differēce, that the shadowie light is not [Page 14]of it selfe in visible act, but to that is procured by bright co­lour, wheras bright colour is not only of it self, alwaies invi­sible act; but further, is an occasion that al other things be vi­sible, seene, & by al mens eyes beheld. And therefore the sun adorned with this bright colour, is the first visible, the first seene, and first seeing, deseruedly called by Heraclytus the eie of the world.

This bright sensible colour, which is the sunnes beauty, easily guideth to the knowledge of brightest colour intelligible, which is the Beautie of the first vnderstanding, being as it were the Image and similitude of it: for as sensi­ble colours can neither bee visible nor seene, without the most bright colour of the sun, so intelligible colours, which be those intelligible forms, cannot haue actual intelligence, nor be conceiued, without the presence of most bright color diuine: And as the eies should not be actually seeing without celestial light, so Intellects, which be no other but incorpo­real eyes, should not actually be intelligent without diuine splendor & brightnes: for as the light of the sun is of it selfe visible, & by it selfe seene, so the most bright colour diuine is of it selfe intelligibile, and by it selfe vnderstood. And as the sun by his most bright color is the first visible, first seen, and first seeing, so the first vnderstāding, which is god, most mighty and excellent, with his most glittering shining co­lour, and light essentiall, is the first intelligible, first vnder­stoode, and first intelligent. The Sunne by his resplen­dant light, exceedeth all the celestiall bodies in Beauty: the first intellect (excepting alwayes, if it bee lawfull to make comparison, betweene the finite and infinite) through his diuine splendor, and most glittering light is in the intelligible world, of al intellects the beautifullest, and most supereminent: and as the light of our material fire, in these inferiour parts, representeth the Sunne; so is the light of the sunne in the worlde celestiall, the true similitude of diuine light and brightnesse. And therefore the diuine Philosopher, defineth light to be no other then an influence [Page 15]of diuine essence, into al worldly things infused, not being any thing throughout the vniuersall woorke, wherein some shadow of light doth not appeare and shine. These be the meanes and similitudes (renowmed Queen) which shew that the Beautie of the first Intellect consisteth in his pro­per colour, being the same light which beautifieth, and is diffused throughout the whole world. It remaineth that I procure you to vnderstand the other part of diuine and essentiall beauty, which is proportion. Yet let not your highnesse imagine, that these beauties which I place in God, be in themselues diuers, as also distinct, from diuine essence, as wee see in other vnderstandings. For in God there is nothing which is not diuinity of it selfe, and there­fore in God Idea, light, wisedome, iustice, be no other but God himselfe; notwithstanding they are diuers by our vn­perfect manner of vnderstanding: because therfore we vn­derstand proportion as diuers from his light, we will so ex­presse it. Proportion then, which is in God parte of his Beauty, is no other but the Idea and exemplar forme of the whole world, in that diuine intellect, in which vniuersall frame, al the parts being togither, within themselues whol­ly correspondent, they are in that diuine vnderstanding with greater proportion then in the world. As in the Ar­chitects vnderstanding, the modell and exemplar forme of buylding is much more fayre and excellent, then in the buylding it selfe: In that the forme of Building may receiue impediment from matter which euer resisteth I­deall reason, but that which is in the Soule being pure and Immateriall, can haue no defect. So that as the Beautie of the buylding and of al the parts thereof, de­pendeth on the exemplar forme, which in the vnder­standing of the Architect, and therefore this in the Buil­ding is called Beautie participated of, and that in the Ar­chitects vnderstanding, Beautie essentiall.

So the Beauty of this worldly Frame, and al the parts ther­of dependeth on Ideal form, in minde diuine comprehen­ded, [Page 16]and therefore that is teaimed Beautie participated of: and this in the minde of the diuine Architect, is true and essentiall beauty, which consisteth as I haue sayd, in Ideall proportion, and his shining light, which is not onely the true light, that illuminateth man comming into this world, but further, is that which causeth the vniuersall frame to be resplendant and beautifull. The diuine Prophet sheweth (and it is true) that God hauing created in fiue dayes all o­ther things which are comprehended in the whole world, he finished his labour the sixt day in the worke of man. I hauing therefore dilated of the whole world in the first part of my discourse, as also of al the parcels thereof, and in the second of corporeal Beauty sensible: in the third of Ar­tificial beauty: in the fourth of the Beauty of Intellects, and in the fift of essentiall Beauty diuine, immitation of di­uine wisedome, I determine in this sixt and last part, to con­clude with the Beauty of the shape humane. Throughout the whole world diuine Beauty obscureth al other pulchri­tude. The Sun exceedeth in beauty al bodyes celestiall, and Beauty humane excelleth all the other of this inferiour world, and therefore we may say with the holy scripture, that God created man after his owne Image, seeing that in man the beame of diuinity doth appeare and shine. This heauenly creature whome we call man, was compounded of soule and body, the which body, hauing to be the harbour of a most fayre and immortall soule, was created without co­uering of hide, bristles, feathers, skales, brutish tusks, or hornes, neyther with bil, or clawing talents, but most ex­quisite, with his eyes towards heauen, and was placed in the midst of the world, to the end that as in an ample Theater, hee might behold and contemplate the workes of the great God, and the Beauty of the whole world: as also there was granted vnto him a perfect tongue & speech, that enflamed with loue diuine, and replenished with admiration, he might praise, and with words extoll diuine beauty. In humane body we find proportion & colours, more then in all other [Page 17]bodies compounded of parts vnlike, because in it that pro­portion is comprehended, which representeth the whole corporeal sensible world, as also the colours that beautifie this sensible world; the one of which is white, like to hea­uenly light, and the other is red, like to the shining colour of material and visible fire: and therefore man was worthily called a little world, seeing the body of man is no other but a little modell of the sensible world, and his soule an Image of the world intelligible. The beauty therefore of humane body, consisteth in due measure of proportion, that is, in fayre and goodly lineaments, and in colours wel disposed: and further, which falleth not out in any other body com­pounded of parts vnlike, his beauty principally is discoue­red in one part alone: & this is in the superiour part, which regardeth towards the light of the Sunne: whose beautie is that, which by meane of the eye procureth Loue. Moreo­uer (which likewise in no other kind of creature is founde) Beautie humane is in women, in farre greater excellencie obserued, then in men, which was thus dispensed with great prouidence by the cheefe creator. For hauing graunted wo­man vnto man for a companion, he endowed her with ex­cellent beautie, for production of Man, and to enflame in him a desire to generate that fayre and beautifull. This Anacreon confirmeth, saying, that as running is the orna­ment of an horse, and wisedome of a man; so beautie is the proper honour of a woman: And the Philosopher in the first of his Rhetroyke, doth in such sort appropriate beauty to a woman, as he setteth it downe principally amongst fe­minine vertues, saying, that the vertues of a woman be beau­ty, honestie, and desire to take paines, without auarice. And in the same booke speaking of the beautie of man, he placeth in the visage of man, togither with the aspect, terri­ble, regard and countenance, to the ende that, prouoked in fighting, he might be a terror to his enemies, which doth clearely manifest that beautie is not in man in so great per­fection as in a woman, because his beautie, procureth as wel [Page 18]terror as loue, wheras Beauty in women doth alwaies gene­rate loue, & neuer procureth feare. If I were willing to de­scribe the beauty of visage humane, I might much more ea­sily poynt it out with my finger, thē expresse it by my tong. Yet for al this I wil not forbeare to affirme that to form per­fect Beauty in humane visage, foure things sitly concur, pro­portionable feature, color wel disposed fauor & presence: to goodly feature & color, faire & comly presence addeth such excellencie, as without it al other Beauties languish & weare away. This was wel known and commended by Petrarch in the coūtenance of his Lauretta, in the sonnet that beginneth;

Whether this be a beame of the soule, which glittereth in the countenance after the same sort as the beames of the in­telligēces, shine in their proper heauens & spheares, or that it be an harmony of shadowed colours & lineaments, I dare not affirme, but cōfesse my self to be ignorant, & wil remain bound to him, that shal make me capable here of. How much fauor importeth to the perfection of beauty humane, from hence we easily conceiue: for without fauor, beauty would neither be gracious, nor accepted of: for she accōpanied with fauor, hath force to draw to hir self, al those minds which cā comprehend her; & without fauor beauty may be sayd to be vnperfect: therfore the ancients fained the Graces to be the waiting maids of Venus; by this inferring, that beauty ought euer to be accompanied by fauor, & from hir neuer to be se­perate. Presence principally is discouered in the sweet and comly motions of the body, for the body standing immoue­able, is not apparant, and for my part I would say that pre­sence is no other then a certaine faculty and agilitie, which the body hath to obey the soule.

It remaineth vnto me (most excellent Queen) for conclu­sion of this my discourse, that I declare vnto your highnesse, [Page 19]that humane beuty to on other end, hath by the chiefe crea­tor bin produced, amongst al beuties sensible, most excellēt, but to kindle this honest & holy loue diuine, which vniteth humane creature with his creator. For mā wholly astonished in beholding humane Beauty, raiseth vp his mind to the cō ­templation of Beauty true & essential, whereof this is a sha­dow and similitude. this discourse of Patritio was by the Queen commended, as also by the other Ladies, when S. Gi­oan Battista Guirini, a gentleman most iudiciall in choyce and excellent learning, added. Questionlesse Signior Francesco hath so plentifully discoursed of Beauty, that little more may be adioyned thereunto; notwithstanding, in euery part I am not satiffied, if he loose not some doubts which holde bound my mind. For he hauing shewed, that Beauty consi­steth in proportion or colours, or in one and the other togi­ther, hath from this his beauty excluded some things, which are esteemed faire; into which being altogither simple, pro­portion cannot fall, it being no other but that symetrie and commeseration which the partes haue betweene themselues cōformable togither to the whole: for we say, a beautiful co­lour, a faire light, a faire voyce, a faire sound, & such like: our Italian word Bello being vsed in commending of al these ex­cellencies, & in these there is neither proportion nor colors. But further, he auerring that the beauty of bodies compoun­ded of parts vnlike, is the proportion that the parts haue be­tween themselues, & with the whole, he manifestly contra­dicteth his friend Plotinus, principal of the Platonicall fa­mily, who maketh plaine demonstration, that beauty can­not be in proportion: and amongst many other arguments, this, in my iudgement, is not of little importance, for sayth hee, if proportion were beautie, it would follow, that the partes which compounde the whole, should not bee beautifull; for no composition being in them, there is like­wise no proportion, and they not being faire, how can the whole bee beautifull, considering that of parts not beau­tiful, an whole Beauty cannot be compounded: notwithstan­ding [Page 20]the consequent is false; for the parts which compound the whole, are & be termed faire, we vsually saying, a fayre hand, a faire foot, a faire eie, a beautiful nose, & such like; this word Bello seruing for to commend al these perfections: the antecedent therfore is false, which is, that proportion is beau­ty. Furthermore, he also vnmindful of his Plautinus, hath on­ly entreated of that sensible beauty, which is the proper ob­iect of the sence of seeing, & hath not placed that in the nū ­ber of Beauties, which is the obiect of hearing, that being of so great price, as Plotinus maketh it, like to the beautie of the soule: and this is melody or musick which so greatly de­lighteth, there being no doubt but that also is tearmed by the title of sayre, we saying for the most part, excellent mu­sick, singular harmony, & pleasant consent. I expect therfore Signior Francesco, that you resoluing these my doubts, doe cause your beautie to appeare, much more resplendant and glorious, then that altogither beautifull.

Very wittily and learnedly sayd Patritio, according to the custome of his pregnant wit, doubteth Signior Guicini how I haue for born to put in the number of things beautiful, some other which also are called by the same name, as also moued by the authority of Plotynus, he doubteth that proportion is not the beauty of bodies compounded of parts different, as more ouer, me lody is to be numbred amongst beauties sen­sible. I answering therfore to his first doubt said, that beauty is a quality as we haue affirmed, & therfore cannot of it selfe consist, but is necessary that it be resident to a subiect, & this shalbe substance. For substance as the sound thereof impor­reth, is that which by it selfe subsisteth, and not the quality or accident. Colour therfore being an accidēt which cannot stand by it self, it cannot be the subiect of beauty, but rather the beauty of the subiect. Wherupō we speaking properly, this propositiō wil not be true, that color is beautiful, except we vnderstand it in this sort, that it maketh another thing beautifull. As phisicke is sayde to bee healthfull, be­cause it healeth another, it is also vnproperly spoken [Page 21]when wee say, a sayre voyce, or a faire sounde: for besides that there can be no sensible beauty: but that which is com­prehended by the sense of sight, sound and voyce, hath in a certayne maner the sayd proportion with Musicall consent as hath the colour, with the body coloured: for as by colour, beauty is represented to the eies: so by sound and harmony, the voyce representeth melodie to the eares: whereupon as we cannot say a beautiful color, so can we not likewise terme the voyce to be faire, I say speaking properly: but insteede heereof, wee might better terme, a melodious, or good voyce, and a good or sweete sound. I haue not in like ma­ner placed in the number of things beautiful those which be the obiects of hearing; for onely proportion in bodies, ac­cording to Platoes minde, is called Beauty: and in number it is termed harmony in humors health, and in the minde vertue. For as it would be no proper but translated speach to say insteede of, beauty of the body, harmony of the body, and for the health, the beauty of the humors, so would it be improper to say, the beuty of number, or health of number, in that the science it selfe, which intreateth of Musicke, ter­meth his proper subiect, number harmonious, and not beu­tifull. That harmonie, which is the obiect that most de­lighteth hearing, is not properly beauty, as that of bodies, it is by this manifest; for beautie of bodies is absolutely a work of Nature, shining of it self, without the help or adoperation of Art: But harmonie is not wholy a worke of Nature, but dependeth of science, and art humane, which the vnderstan­ding retaineth, by musicall habite; and therefore in Musike it seemeth, that not onely sense, but also vnderstanding is wakened and delighted. Further, beautie in bodies, is al­wayes in action, neither needeth it humane art to be seene, but sodainly at the apparance of light doth discouer it selfe; harmony, notwithstanding it be alwaies potentially in num­ber, neuerthelesse without humane Art, it cannot be in acti­on, nor be heard: Yet this (and with Plotynus leaue be it spo­ken) is much different from beautie, by the argument of [Page 22] Plotynus himselfe, which is, that proportion in bodies com­pounded, of partes vnlike, cannot be Beautie. For though I esteeme him as Prince and chiefe of all the Platonists, ne­uerthelesse, desiring to haue trueth my friend, I can not in this conforme my selfe to his opinion: For hee considered not, that the different partes which compound the whole, are also framed themselues, of partes and parcelles vnlike: For the hand is compounded of fingers, and the fingers of ioynts and nayles, and in it doe we behold well disposed co­lours, and due proportion, as likewise in the feete and all o­ther members, in which out of doubt, we finde proportion of the parts and whole: and therfore when we call thē beu­tifull, we respect them not as parts, but also as entire wholes, & compounded. I further affirm, that as of matter & forme, the body heauy, and light, is compounded, although neither the matter not forme, is either heauy, or light; so will it bee no such great inconuenience, that of partes not faire, an entire beautiful should be compounded. Guirini seemed to be satisfied with the answer of Patritio, who now withdrew himself, to giue place to the L. Laura Peuerara, that by com­maundement of the Queene, had taken the Harpe into her hand for musike: When the ladie Tarquinia Molza: go not away said she, Signior Patritio, for I haue also a doubt to cast, neither do I thinke that the Queenes mind is, I should here rest discontented, as I must needes, you not satisfying me, in my own I cannot say, but euen in the generall doubt of eue­ry one: for who is there, especially among vs women, which knoweth the reason (speaking of beautie humane) why shee with vs is so rare, & deformitie so frequent, and yet the quite contrary shuld be, if that were true which you haue spoken: That Nature the ministresse of diuine prouidence, and dis­poser of al formes, doth imprint them in matter, according to example, in vnderstanding diuine: how can it therefore be, Signior Patritio, that Nature, who hath euer before her eies, the true modell of Beautie, after the Image whereof she intendeth to form the thing beutiful, like an vnskilful Pain­ter, or Grauer, should for the most part impart deformitie.

[Page 23]This doubt Lady, answered Patritio, is not smally im­porting: being vndoubtedly worthie of your most noble cō ­ceit, notwithstanding I wil endeuor my selfe herein, to giue you satisfaction. It is a thing certaine, that Beautie procee­deth from forme, and deformitie from matter; the which, as it is of his owne proper nature vnformall, so al deformitie hath from it deriuation: For matter resisteth Ideall reason, so that in her she cannot produce the perfect forme shee in­tendeth: and from hence commeth it, that the Grauer can neuer set forth Beautie in Marble, answerable to the imma­teriall impression of her in his minde: for the marble makes resistance to his chizel, hand and art. Applying this then to our purpose I say, that the matter whereof humane creature is formed (and it is pure bloud, mixed with mans seede, in the wombe of the woman) in which the great mother Na­ture determineth to introduce the Image of diuinitie, is not alwayes one, and the selfe same, but sometimes by the mo­ther, otherwhiles by the father, and often by the variabilitie of celestiall influence, we find it diuersly disposed. Hereup­on it appeares, that one more, another lesse, resisteth Ideall reason. By how much therfore matter is of greater resistāce, by so much the more looseth forme his beutie; as on the cō ­trary it obtaineth the more, the lesse it maketh resistance: And therfore diuine Plotinus defineth Beuty to be no other, but the floure of forme subduing matter. It seemes you, repli­ed the L. Tarquinia, would charge the heauens, with beautie or deformitie, seeing it is they that dispose matter, to grea­ter or lesse refictance. Without doubt, answered Patritio, as of the cause instrumentall, the beauty and deformitie of ce­lestiall influence dependeth; so likewise doth all other ef­fects of this inferior world: for celestiall heat, is the principal instrument of nature, as also vitall heate, is the instrument of nature in mans procreation, which by the father in feede impressed, hath proportion with the starry element: and therefore if nature would introduce like forme, vnto Ideall beautie, it is necessary, many things should agree to subdue [Page 24]the resistance of matter: as these poynts would be requisite, that the fathers seede be well disposed, that the heate of the womb be temperate, as also that celestial heate be gratiously infused by the fauourable starres: As Petrarch affirmeth, speaking of his faire Laura, in the Song

Garments of greene, yet bloudy, tawny, and obscure: Saying in the seuenth Stanza:

And as followeth likewise in the fift Stanza of the Song: ‘Silent I cannot be: and feare preuaileth not.’

When he saith:

And as further foloweth: being therefore necessary, that so many things should concurre together for generation of Beautie, no maruell (most gentle Lady,) though Beautie so seldome, and Deformitie so often manifesteth her selfe: The cause of Beautie and Deformitie set downe by Patritio, see­med very probable to the Lady Tarquinia, and when all the attendants and standers by, imagining, that in the like argu­ment, no other thing was to be sought after. The excellent Duchesse, a princesse of rare and strange capacitie, making Patritio once againe to stay. You haue yet further, said she, to satisfie my doubt, which proceedes from hauing by you bin affirmed, that the beautie of humane body consisteth in [Page 25]proportion and colours: I desire therefore to know which holdeth the chiefest place, because by this meanes I shall al­so come to knowledge, which is the greater defect in beuty, either disproportion, or deficiencie in colours. Reason, said Patritio, perswadeth me most noble Lady, to yeeld the chie­fest place to proportion, notwithstanding sense maketh me stand doubtfull, euer obseruing, that the countenaunces of these faire Ladies, and of all women, do more shine and glit­ter through the aboundance of colours, than by great pro­portion. Although I, if it so please your Maiestie, will discusse this probleme, by allegation of reasons, both for the one and other part: and without giuing definitiue sentence, will leaue sufficient armes to euery one, to defend that best pleaseth him. And there is no doubt, but rastes bee diuerse; whereupon euery one enamoured will commend that parte in which his beloued is more excellent: for this may be per­ceyued in Petrarch, who sufficiently praiseth the colours of his Lauretta, because her colours exceeded farre her propor­tion. He called therefore her faire haire, tresses of gold, her forehead more beautifull than the heauen, he compared the eye liddes to ebonie, the cheeks to frosts, snowes, and roses; the lippes to rubies, the teeth to pearles, as wee reade in all those Sonets which contain the beuty of Laura: where we see not so much as one word, hauing relation to feature or pro­portion. The maner of handling this controuersie pleaseth me well, replied the L. Duchesse, seeing euery one may rea­son to their owne minde: yet giue you the onset, and begin first from proportion, the which out of doubt naturally ex­ceeds colors, as do the clements things mixed. When Patri­tio therfore, had alitle pawsed with himself, he said: Among al beuties sensible, that seems the most perfect beuty, which is neerer to beauty intelligible, as also of that most participa­ting. Proportiō is such: therfore amongst all beuties sensible shee is the greater: and consequently where she is found, is that, which to beauty, giueth greater perfection. Proportion questionlesse hath greater similitude wyth intelligible beautie, because it can not bee proportion without order, [Page 26]and order is proper to reason, which reason is no other, but a similitude of beautie intelligible, and of the selfe diuine in­tellect: but further it is the more principall parte of beautie sensible, which reacheth delight, not onely to sense, but also to the minde, and such proportion: for by the order and dis­position of parts, the footesteps of reason do in hir appeere, and therefore shee is very conformable to the nature of the minde, being apt to delight, and rauish it with vnspeake­able contentment: Further, proportion is the principal cause of beuty, throughout the vniuersal frame, aswel of the world corporeal and sensible, as of the intelligible: considering that by proportion, it is created, and by the same preserued; ther­fore it deserueth the chiefest place in the beauty of humane body, which is no other but a model of the great world. Ex­cept we should foolishly beleene, that the worlde was made by chance, we must necessarily conceiue, that with speciall prouidence, it was built by the diuine architect, as also it is necessary to place in the same diuine mind, the Ideal forme, as we haue said of the world, by others termed the worldes Archtype, euen as it is necessary that the model and Idea of the building, should be in the minde of the Architect. Now the principal and most perfect part, as well in the minde of diuine, as humane Architect is proportion, because in it or­der and disposition are comprehended. According to this Ideall proportion therefore was the whole worlde by God created, and first of figure circular; because to containe this vniuersall worke, that of al other figures was most propor­tionable, and the heauenly spheares were with so great pro­portion framed, as likewise to euery one, motion, with so singular proportion dispensed, that in moouing (as the di­uine Philosopher affirmeth) they procure celestiall harmo­ny: euery starre hath his proportion to receiue light from the Sunne; and the Sunne proportionably to euery one of them, dispenseth & infuseth of his light; and both the stars, and Sunne, with so great measure and proportion, doe in­fuse their light and heate into these inferiour bodies, as with [Page 27]maruel, and wonder from them, springeth the beutie of this inferior world. Such proportion we finde in the elements, as well in quantitie as qualitie, as if of this their proportion, the least part were but disproportioned, one element would conuert al the other into his proper Nature, or els the world would be confounded into Chaos. Proportion causeth har­monie in number, in bodies beautie, in humours health, in minde vertue, as contrariwise disproportion, procureth in numbers discord, in bodies deformitie, in humors infirmity, and in the minde vice: But who is it that wil doubt propor­tion to be the cause of all delights, as well sensible, as inte li­gible, in that the good which delighteth, is no good, if it bring not with it proportion, neither is there any thing that desireth to be vnited with good simply, but with a good to it selfe proportioned; and from hence proceedeth the saying of Heraclytus, that euery thing is rauished with his own con­tentment, the which standes in vnion of good, to it selfe pro­portioned: and this is that which properly of all things is beloued and desired.

To conclude, as there can not bee good in the vniuersall world, without proportion, so can ther not in the litle world which is man, be any beauty without proportion: and, as good can not without proportion procure desire; so can not beautie without proportion cause loue: In that loue is not generate in the louer, but by symetrie, which the thing belo­ued hath with the louer: by al these, and other reasons, which might be produced, we may conclude, that all perfection springeth principally from proportion: and therefore that it in humane body is a part more excelent, than is the beu­tie of colours. Me thinkes saide the Duchesse, the doubt is after such a manner cleered, as wee neede not proceede any further, and that the palme is due rather to beautifull fea­ture, than to faire and well disposed colours. It is a thing iust and requisite, renowmed Lady, sayd Patritio, before iudgement to attend the partie, for his allegations are not to be contemned, and therfore that louer who is made a seruant [Page 28]to beautiful tresses, to black eyes, to coloured cheekes, to ro­sie lips, to a white hand, wil alleage in defence of colors, that the beautie which is part, or rather proper offpring of the most perfect of all beauties sensible, ought to bee the selfe same, which bringeth principally the name of beautifull to that subiect wherin it is found; but colours are such, ther­fore by colours humane body shall principally bee called beautifull: that colours be such, it is a thing manifest: for light is the greatest of all beauties sensible, as that which is no other but a beame & influence of diuine essence, disper­sed ouer the wole world (as I haue said) this being graunted to the most perfect, of all bodies sensible, which is the sun, to the end that by it, it might not only be beautifullest of all other creatures, but that it should also bee the meane and principal cause, of the apparance of all other beauties: co­lours are so conioyned with light, and light with colours, af­ter such a sort vnited, as we terme light a bright color in a bo­dy illumined, & color a shadowed light in a colored body: in no poynt differing, but that light is a colour without adum­bration, & color a light shadowed, whereupon those colors which haue least adumbration, as is white, haue the greater similitude with the purity of light: Light then beeing the greatest beauty of the world, and colors part of light, and of light created, in al reason they ought to obtaine the chie­fest place in humane beauty.

This louer wil further argue, if the proper obiect delec­table to the sight, is no other but beauty, colours being more delightsome then proportion or figure, should also haue in them greater beautie. That colours be such, it is proued, for colours are proper sensibles of the sight, but figure and pro­portion sensibles common: & by the opinion as wel of the Perepatetikes, as Academikes, proper sensibles doo more moue & delight sence, then common. Neither want there philosophers of authority, as was most learned Psellus, which hold opinion, that common sensibles are rather knowne by reason, stiried vp by the senses, then by the sense thēselues.

[Page 29]To conclude, he will thus reason, grounding himself vpon that proposition, which runneth currant through all vniuer­sities, and is this: that which is the cause that another thing is such, is much more the like it self: as for example sake: If fire be the cause that all other things are hot, then shall it of all other things be the hottest: I will therefore affirme, that if beautie of colours, is a cause that the beautie of figure and proportion is apparant, then must they likewise needes bee of more apparant beautie: as light is of all other beauties the fairest, in that light is the cause of the apparance of all beauties sensible: and there is no doubt, but colours are the cause of the apparance of proportion, considering that cō ­mon sensibles cannot be cōprehended, but by sensibles pro­per: by the testimony of women thēselues, of whom beauty is the proper ornament: the said reasons may be confirmed, they being priuie, that colours in beauty humane holdeth the cheefest place, and are of themselues apt to produce Loue: they imploy all their industrie in the beautie of colours, by making their haire like the shining colour of gold, the cheekes like to white lillies and red roses, the lips to rubies, the teeth to the orient whitenes of pearle, with which beuties shadowing some other of their disproportiōs, they yet appeare, & are called faire, kindling notwitstāding by such hart, in the harts of mē amarous flames. Ile further adde the authority of the doctors, of the Moysaical law, who desirous that mē leauing their bestial appetites, shuld be in­amored of women, set down by publike decree, that it shuld be lawful for women to paint their faces, and that fathers to daughters, brothers to sisters, & husbands to wiues, shuld be enioyned to allow money for the buying of colours: these wisemen conceiuing, that there is not a beuty more preuai­lent to imprint loue in humane breasts, then that of colors: & thus wil this intangled louer with the beutie of colors cō ­clude, that colors are the most principal poynts of humane beauty. Heere Patritio held his peace, and on a sodaine great murmuring did arise, one defending one parte, [Page 30]and others another, which the Queene obseruing, she poin­ted to the Lady Laura Peuerara. This is a Gentleman belonging to the Duchesse, borne in Mantua, to the glorie of that City, married to Count Hanibal Turcho, one of the principallest Gentlemen of our Citie: who, as she doth easi­ly with her beautie kindle loue in any one that beholdeth her, so with her honest customes and modestie, she doth so asswage others flames, that al amarous affection, is resolued into singular and special reuerence, whereupon by all those that know her, she is no lesse reuerenced then beloued. Be­ing come therefore before the Queene with her Harpe, she sung so sweetly, as it seemed the soule at the sound of that di­uine harmony rauished, would haue flowne out from the body of euery one that heard her: when musicke being fini­shed, the Lady Duchesse dwarfe came running, and made it knowne that the Court was at hand: whereupon the queen rising vp, the Ladies and knights after order giuen for pro­secution of these disscussions begun, the day following went to meete his highnes, and the rest of the day while supper­time, was passed ouer in diuers recreations, and pleasant sports. After supper they trode certaine measures, which finished, his highnesse rose vp, and cuerie one retyred himselfe apart to his Lodging.

THe day following, his highnesse with the renowmed Duchesse, and parte of the Court, went into the wood of Elisea, where was prepared a very pleasant chase, the huntsmen with their nets ha­uing enclosed a sufficient number of boares, whereof that wood aboue all o­thers doth greatly abound: and the vsuall company placed in order, returned to the Chamber of the Lady Countesse of Sala, from whence taking, by chance, the Lady Isabella Benti­uoglia, a matron, adorned with most noble qualities, shee was crowned Queene, who after a little silence, spoke in this manner: I beleeue not, that amongst vs there can any one be found of so dull a conceit, which did not yesterday find great contentment in the discourse of Signior Patritio, hee hauing explaned vnto you, what beauty was, from whence she deriued her original, and to what ende shee was graunted vnto mortall men, by the omnipotent Creator. The which hauing well considered, I thinke it not much from the purpose, to prosequute the method & begun, giue some occasion to these pregnant and learned wits, to extend [Page 32]forth such like delights, which also vnto vs may be a singu­lar benefit and commoditie: For what greater pleasure may be tasted, then to satisfie that naturall desire we haue to vn­derstand. Signior Patritio sayd yesterday, that beautie was the mother of loue, and therefore, as of the mother I remai­ned out of doubt, so am I desirous to haue some notise of the sonne, and in effect to knowe, what thing this is which wee tearme loue: for in the description that Plutarch ther­of maketh, I am but little satisfied: it seeming vnto mee a meere fable to say, that he is a blind boye, winged, and na­ked, with a bow in his hand, & arrowes by his side, as like­wise it is no lesse vanitie to affirme that he is a curteous child, or froward old man, & that he springeth from idlenes and humane iolitie. I command you therfore Signior Guirino (if my fauor be with you of any worth) that you dilate vp­pon this subiect, because I am assured, that al will attende you with great pleasure and contentment, for the de­sire euerie one hath to knowe the Tyrant, or rather this greedie deuourer of humane hearts. A most grieuous burden (thrise excellent queene) doth your maiestie lay vp­pon my shoulders (answered Guicino) in sodainly enioyning mee to entreate, of so high an argument, as loue is, in con­templation whereof, the most refined wits haue bin con­foūded. Neuerthelesse, to make known how deare the fauor of so great a Queene is vnto me, I wil couragiously attempt the enterprise, hoping that loue himself, vnto whom frō my cradle I haue dedicated my life, wil stirre vp my inuention, and moue my tong, so that conformable to your highnesse entention, I may make his noble essence & other mysteries vnto him appertaining, most perspicuous and mani­fest.

Here Guirino staying & pausing a little with himself, be­gun afterwards in this manner. Our soule (most excellent queen) being deriued from true and essential beautie, there is in it such an inclination, and knowledge of beauty im­pressed, that no sooner by the eye, beautie discouereth [Page 33]it selfe vnto her, but sodainely without any reasonable acti­on reioycing with her selfe, shee is greatly delighted. Hereupon it proceedeth, that there is not so harsh a spirit and capacitie, which at the presence of some beautifull thing, bee it naturall or artificiall, slayeth not with won­der and delight to beholde it, although hee can neither comprehend the proportion, order, or any other part of this Beauty. But in that (most illustrous Queene) as yester­day Signior Patritio made manifest, Beauty humane, (as the liuely image of diuinitie) surmounteth all other in this inse­riour world, therefore deseruedly is it that, which with his present apparence, hath force to enflame and kindle loue in the soule of man. Of which loue humane (seeing your ma­iestie so commandeth) I haue determined to discourese, lay­ing apart that generall argument, whereof others super flu­ously haue entreated: it being rather a certaine inclination, which euery creature hath to his owne particular good, then a true & infailible loue. Whētherfore we wold attain to the prerfect knowledge of any thing, these foure things especi­ally we are wont to seek out: first whether that, after which wee seeke, be extant: secondly, what it is: thirdly, from whence it hath his originall: and lastly, what end it hath. Now therefore, I supposing, (which of all these Ladies and gentlemen will bee graunted vnto mee) that loue is: I will passe ouer vnto the other three sought after, the which I in­tend to make manifest vnto you, in the description I shal set downe of Loue: but before I go any further, I thinke it not amisse to lay open some definitions. i. two of diuine Plato, & one takē out of Aristotle, for taken out I may verie well say, because bee neuer hath defined it. Plato therfore in his book called Phedro, saith, that loue is no other thing, but a desire of vnition with that which is Beautifull, and in his Conuiuio, as also in Diotima, he affirmeth, that loue is a desire of bringing forth that which is beautifull: In like manner, out of the wordes of Aristotle in his Rhetorick, may be gathered, that loue is no other but a desire of interchaungeable affection. [Page 34]The words of Platoes first definition be true, but yet being too much restrained, they declare not sufficiently the na­ture of loue: the second is onely proper to one kinde of humane loue, and therefore cannot bee taken for a generall desinition. That of Aristotle, notwithstanding it bee vni­uersall, and hath his verification, as well in loue as in good will, beeing in a manner the end both of one and other, yet is it somewhat defectiue, because there wanteth the effici­ent cause, as in it no mention being made of beautie, which properly doth generate and preserue loue: but in that the defect of these definitions wil be made manifest, in the con­sideration of that I intend to propound. I will in this pro­ceed no further, but come to define humane loue, accor­ding to the power of my slender wit: and admit I preuaile no further, yet by this meanes shall I giue occasion to these learned vnderstandings, to thinke better on it. I affirme, that loue is no other but a forcible perturbation of humane mind, stirred vp by some knowne beautie, through a secret con­formitie of Nature, which the louer hath towards the thing beloued, resoluing with himselfe in desire, to be vnited with this beautie in loue corporeal. That loue is violent pertur­bation of our soule and minde, it may be confirmed by the authority of Plato in his Conuiuio, where he termeth loue a great spirit or Daemon: and if the authoritie of so great a Philosopher were not sufficient, yet might these noble La­dies giue ample testimoniall thereof, who peraduenture haue felt more then once, and often doo feele the same, in whose delicate & chaste breasts be the most liuely and fer­uent flames of loue, as likewise these amorous yong Gen­tlemen, amongst whome peraduenture, more then one may be found, who at the presence of such a splendor and beautie, murmuring to himselfe, may say.

There is no doubt but among al the passions and affecti­ons [Page 35]of minde, loue holdeth the cheefest place, there being no other affection that maketh alteration, as well in the bo­dy as minde, then loue doth, as Petrarch wittily expresseth. describing in a sonnet his amorous passion, when hee sayth:

And in another place, ‘I feare and tremble, frie, and freeze.’ That to procure loue, it is necessarie that beautie, as a cause efficient, should be knowne, it may be proued by the Philo­sophers authoritie, in the ninth of his Moralles, where he af­firmeth, that it is impossible any one should bee enamored, without hee be first drawne vnto it by beautie: and the rea­son also hereof is in readinesse, in that knowledge euer go­eth before affection, which is no other but a sodaine motion of the sensatiue facultie, & cordial spirits, procured by a de­lectable or odious apprehension, resoluing either into desire of vnion or seperation; whereupon ensueth either pleasure or greefe. I haue also placed that little clause, as necessarie in the definition of loue, through a secret conformitie of na­ture, that the louer hath with the beloued. For it is not possi­ble that any should be enamored, except in finding a woman conformable in beautie to his owne proper disposition, the which is testified by the testimony of Plato in Lyside, where he cōcludeth, that we are enforced, to loue that which is cō ­formable to our nature: as also by the authoritie of diuine Petrarch, in the second Stanza of that excellent Sonnet, in the sweete time of my first years, where hee saith:

Here Petrarch sheweth, that hauing in his dayes seene many faire women, (as it is likely) hee neuer was enamored, but rather had an heart made of Adamant, till by that migh­tre Dame hee was surprised, whose Beautie was con­formable to his owne proper Nature, and therefore this sweete conformitie, is one of the principallest and most essentiall causes of Loue; which hath his originall of no other thing, then from the celestiall influences in hu­mane generation: because these infuse seperately, into e­uery thing, as well without life, as liuing, and especially into mans bodie, a peculiar and particular temperature, by which euery man is in some thing different from ano­ther in complection. From whence springeth diuers in­clinations and appetites, in that it cannot bee denied, but that the sensible faculty, hauing alwaies his operation ioy­ned with the body, followeth the temperature of the body; and therefore it is no maruaile (as the Poet sayth) if euery one be transported by his particular delight, and that the beauty which is apt to rauish the minde of one, scarce­ly toucheth another. This loue, which is no other, but that most vehement passion wee spoke of, resolueth into a de­sire of vniting it selfe, in reciprocall loue, with the thing beautiful: and here let vs obserue, that though a man hath the greater parte of his affections common with other [Page 37]creatures, yet is he from them verie different: for in other creatures, affection, desire, action, if they be not hindered, they moue as it were in one moment, in that they want rea­son, which should struggle with sence. But in man, though affection fodainely mooueth, yet it is not so readily transfor­med into desire, or quickely mooned to action, in that this cannot be without the consent of reason: the which as a mi­stris, oftentimes permitteth not affection to breake forth in­to desire, or so incontinently to proceede to action: If ther­fore loue be willing to resolue into desire, of necessity rea­son must thereunto consent, it beeing shee that perfectly knoweth the hope, which is the true foundation of this de­sire. Therefore when any rare beautie or pulchritude con­formable to our appetite, discouereth it selfe, it is not in our power at that instant, to resist amarous affection: but if this beauty be placed in too high a subiect, as in a Princesse, hope of vnition and loue reciprocall, failing in vs by the light of reason, affection is not conuerted into amarous desire, but rather into speciall reuerence. By this true conclusion, we may coniecture how vainely it was spoken by our Poet;

For it had beene a truer sentence to haue said:

That loue changeth himselfe into desire of aunswerable affection, these amorous and valiant Gentlemen, will serue me with most certaine and infallible testimonie, who stir­red vp by such a desire, to make themselues woorthy of the reciprocall loue of their affected mistresses, couet euer to performe gentle and liberall actions: and there is no doubt, but in the heart of euery noble louer, the principallest de­sire is, to be beloued mutually, and that he had rather be de­priued of the vnion of loue reciprocall, than by vnion to lose the mutuall and interchangeable affection of his deere affe­cted: [Page 38]and this may suffice for the definition of loue. Yet wil I not forbeare, to admonish these most beautifull Ladies, that they be not too presumptuous in the title of Mistresses, as though they themselues might not likewise come to bee louers: For though their hearts be built of plaister of Ada­mant, yet be they not so hard, but that Loue sometimes with his golden arrow may pearse them; therefore when I say, in­amoured, I intend aswell women as men; and by a Louer, I giue to vnderstand, both the one and the other. By the same way and meane, that amorous passion, in humane harts is in­gendred, as by beautie being an obiect to the sight, and ther­fore is the mother thereof; so may we affirme with the au­thoritie of Petrarch, that the eies be guides vnto the path of loue: and therefore in the first Terzetto of his Sonnet, hee saith, there was a day when the Sunne was darkened.

And in the fift Stanza of the Sonet: so weake the threed is, whereupon my yrkesome life depends:

And not onely the louers cies, as the way, but those also of her beloued doe necessarily concurre, to the imprinting of this amorous passion, as affirmeth the same Poet in the Sonnet, Loue hath me set, as white vnto the shaft, saying:

And in the Sonnet:

And in the Sonnet:

We therefore concluding with the Poet will say, that the eyes be those that swallow downe the Idea of the beauty be­loued, and transport it to the Louers heart; whereupon the minde incited by that most delectable contentment, enters into contemplation, and feeling of that influence wherwith it is moued, and by litle and little set on fire, especially when vnto this there commeth the reuerberation against them of those most glittering beames, sent foorth from the eies of the beloued: so that fresh fewell added to the former fier, all these together inflame with amorous heat. And as it is not in our power (most noble Queene) to resist amorous affec­tion, as that which in a moment altering the vitall spirites, maketh impression in our sensible facultie, so not being able without the consent of reason, to breake foorth into desire, it is in our power to bridle, and induce it to a mediocritie; which if we doe not, it is no more humane loue, but made like the loue of sauage beasts, is termed bestiall. Wherefore as this disordinate loue is the norishment of all vices, so tem­perate loue, is the principall originall of all vertues. Leauing therefore apart this brutish loue, which deserueth rather the name, of a luxurious and furious storme, then of true loue, we will diuide humane loue into three seuerall kindes, diffe­rent one from another, in respect of the end to which they are directed.

The first and excellentest of all the rest, like vnto the diuine of-spring of that celestiall Venus, wherein the Sera­phins immeasurably burning, do enflame with like affecti­on all the rest of the Angelicall spirites, is called diuine loue. This was defined by Plato in his Phedro, to bee no o­ther then a diuine furie, which reduceth to memorie the [Page 40]forme of true beauty, in that farre from all brutish action, in the onely contemplation of his faire and deare beloued, he resteth satisfied; who beholding beauty as the Image of Di­uinitie, raiseth vp by that meanes his minde to meditate on that beauty which is perfect and celestiall. This diuine lo­uer desireth that his deere affected should be set on fire, with so holy, chaste, & immaculate a loue towards him. With such loue, not onely yong men, but olde, religious, and men mar­ried may be inamoted; and it is in the highest and most per­fect degree of temperature. The second kind, without con­taminating chaste thoughts, reioyceth onely in beholding, discoursing, and conuersing with his beloued, as also by her to be mutually affected. This is discrepant, from that in the diuine louer, insomuch as admiring humane beauty, without lifting vp the mind to that from whence she had her begin­ning, hee meditateth on this beauty humane, not as the I­mage and representation of Diuinitie, but as if it were most true and essentiall beutie, and reioyceth in this contentment: this is called chaste loue, and is in the second degree of tem­perance. It se emeth kissing vnto this Loue, is permitted for a reward; in that a kisse is rather the coniunction of soule then body, for by meane of a kisse, a most pleasing passage, of the liueliest spirits being procured both from the one and others heart, the soules of louers remaine so bound togither by the vndiuided knot of loue, that of two ther is made one, which compounded after this maner, gouerneth two bodies, and therefore those chastely enamored, desire to attayne to a kisse, as being a true connexion of the soule. Wherfore the diuine Philosopher in his Conuiuio, speaking of one inamo­red with chaste loue saith, that kissing, the soule commeth into the lippes, from whence it flieth out, and is receiued.

The third kinde of humane loue, is that, which resolueth into desire of vnition, with the thing beautifull, not onely in minde, but also corporally, yet by lawful and honest meane; and this loue is that, which is the beginning of thrice sacred Matrimony, and in this, not onely an vnion of reciprocall [Page 41]loue, but also a desire of eternitie is discouered; for by meane of this lasciuious loue, a man communicating his owne pro­per kinde, beeing fraile, maketh himselfe eternall. Thus much Plato gaue to vnderstand, when he said, Loue is a de­sire of bringing forth that which is beautifull: although this definition hath by others beene diuersly interpreted, they supposing, that the diuine philosopher vnderstoode it by that loue, wherewith Socrates loued faire and goodly yong men; which resolued into a desire of generating in their gen­tle wittes, his noble conceits and morall vertues. There fo­loweth (most excellent Queene) and with this I will finish my discourse, as the shadow a body, so this loue, a most cru­ell passion, which many times with his bitter poyson, ap­palleth and infesteth the happy state of the louer: This is wicked iealousie, which is no other but a passion that as­saileth and freezeth the inamoured heart by imminent dan­ger of leesing, or to be hindered in the mutuall affection of his beloued: This taketh beginning and nourishment, from the louers vnderstanding the want of some perfection in himselfe, which in his corriuall is aboundant and plenti­full.

Heere Signior Guirino held his peace, and iudging that hee had sufficiently satisfied the commaundement of the Queene, would haue retired himselfe. When the Queene beckened vnto him, that he should sit still, and commaun­ded the Lady Tarquinia Molza, with all the other gentlewo­men, that they should moue questions to Signior Guirino in the argument of loue, that by this gentle exercise, they might beguile the time, till the comming of his Highnesse.

This noble desire of your Maiestie, aunswered then the Lady Tarquinia smiling, is vnto me singular good happe, and fortune, seeing by this occasion I hope to reduce my minde to tranquilitie, which now is greatly troubled for that which Signior Guirino hath sayd, holding opinion, that loue is pro­cured in vs, by a secret conformitie of nature, which the lo­uer hath with his beloued, and that this conformitie depen­deth [Page 42]on the heauens: which being true, how shall I be free from this amorous storme, notwithstanding I now ride to my great contentment in safe porte and harbour? for howe shall I be able to auoyde, that a beautie conformable to my Nature presenting it selfe before my eies, I may not enter into this tempestuous sea of loue? I beseech you therefore by your wonted curtesie (Signior Guirino) explane vnto me, whether loue commeth by election or destinie. You should (Madam Tarquinia) bee ouer highly conceited in your selfe, answered Guirino, and too cruell against loue, if as you are alwayes beloued, so you should be secure from being inamo­red, and that destiny could not chastice your ingratitude: that loue proceedeth from celestiall influence, it is confir­med by Petrarch, and especially in the fift Stanza of his So­net, or sestine, which beginneth thus: To any creature that doth harbour on the earth, saying:

Here hee confesseth that his firme and constant loue to­wards Laura, proceeded from the starres, that is, from cele­stiall influence, and in the seuenth Stanza of the Song. That my old sweete, yet wicked Lord, speaking in the person of Loue, he saith thus:

And in the Sonnet, It may be some will thinke that in com­mending her: in the third Terzetto hee saith:

[Page 43]To absolue this doubt, and not leaue you perplexed, I say that loue is planted in the heart of man by destinie, but it taketh there no roote, but by election: This is euident by the definition of Loue: For he by a knowne beautie is in­cited, through the secret conformitie of nature, that the Lo­uer hath with his affected, so that it is not in our power, whē conformable beautie discouereth it selfe to effect, that in vs amorous passion should not bee mooued, as likewise wee cannot procure, that others affections, whose subiect is the part irascible, may not exercise their force, amiddest feare, and such like: but in that these affections cannot resolue in­to desire, as we haue said, if reason do not thereto consent, from whose agreement springeth election; it followeth that loue cannot change into desire, or take roote in mans heart, but by election, which is an action of free will, neither can it by the stars be violated, or haue hinderance, as Petrarch speaking of himselfe affirmeth, in the last Stanze but one of his song: Alas that I am ignorant where hope is to bee found, saying:

The Poet couering to infer, that though the starres encline, yet inforce they not a man, to offer himselfe as it were a pray to loue, but all proceedeth from our election. I am but slooderly comforted, aunswered the Lady Tarquinia, in this your conclusion, for if it bee true which both Petrarch and Ariosto affirme, that loue depriueth libertie, and that he can be brideled with no bit (election being an action of freewil,) shall haue no place in his Kingdome, and in trueth experience sheweth, that Loue manageth his Empire with violence, and where there is least hope of vni­on and Loue reciprocall, there banishing reason from [Page 44]her seate, he principally maketh triall of his force. Vnhap­py Mirrha was inflamed with the loue of her owne father­miserable Canace with her brother Macareus, and vnbride­led Phedra with the loue of most chaste Hippolytus, being o­uercome by amorous passion: Pasiphae for loue of a Bull fre­quented the woods, and that incontinent young man Guido animated, by this most cruell tyrant defiled in the Temple, that most beautifull statue of Ʋenus: and who will say, that the foundations of these loues were layed in any action of reason, and not confesse, that these infortunate louers were prouoked to this disordinate loue, rather by destiny than e­lection? To conclude therefore, that loue taketh roote in mans heart, by election, in my iudgement is no other, but to open the eyes of loue, and of a blinde boy, to make him a wakefull and vigilant olde man. My conclusion, learned Lady, (aunswered Guirino) ought to giue you so much the more consolation, by how much for the most part it falleth out to be true, and after such a manner true, as those vnna­turall and sordide affections, which so greatly amaze you, are recounted but for wonderfull accidents. Vndoubtedly they were bestial inamorations, as brutish likewise all those shal be, which are rooted in humane heartes, without the action of reason: of which you are not to presume in your selfe, in whome reason vseth to commaund, and sence to obey. For vertue hauing already taken certain possession of your most beautifull minde, it will be easie for you, euer to extinguish the disordinate flames of Loue; but if destiny set before your eies, conformable beauty, you beholding it as the representa­tion of diuinity, and sauished with diuine loue, will prosent­ly transforme your selfe into the same diuinity.

I am contented to accept (Signior Guirino) of these last wordes, answered the Lady Tarquinia, no lesse for commen­dation, then consolation, neither will I vrge further: Then the Lady Camilla Canala, a matrone of magnificont pre­sence and high witte, tooke occasion to propound a doubt; I would also willingly know said she, seeing loue is planted [Page 45]in humane hearts by destinie, and taketh roote by election, whether it be in the Louers power to extirpate it, for of this I greatly doubt. You haue great reason to doubt (said Guiri­no) for by the Philosophers consent, it is much more hard to resist the appetite of desire, then of anger. And Plato in his Timeo affirmeth, that cupiditie giueth no eare to reason, but no sooner is stirred vp by sence, then that immediatly she is rauished, by these viewed representations: in which opinion Plutarch agreeth. Loue then beeing the principall affection of the part concupiscent, and yet notwithstanding the beauty of the beloued being to the louer represented by sence and imagination, as it hath annexed vnto it I knowe not what manner of violence, which forcibly rauisheth the soule of the louer, so is it impossible that the louer taken by that baite, should cleare himselfe, as Petrarch affirmeth of himselfe, saying:

And in another place also, speaking of himselfe, he clearely sheweth, that it is not in the louers power to breake the a­morous cord, but in that sonnet especially.

And in the other sonnet.

And in the second Stanze of the song, when destinie will haue it so, he saith:

And in the fixt Stanze of the Sonnet: ‘If I do meditate in thought, she doth me straight assaile.’

This sheweth euidently, that seeing loue hath possession of mans hart, it is in mans power to acquite, himself of him, saying:

Ariosto concludeth the same, in the Stanze which begineth.

Where he addeth:

[Page 47]Notwithstanding, I little regarding the authoritie of these Poets, seeing they haue but weake mindes, I holde the contrarie for trueth: and that we haue power to free our selues of amorous passion, when, or in what maner so­euer we please: and to the end most gentle Lady, togither with these other Gentlewomen, you may comprehend the truth, examining the matter a little more deepely, I say, that the most excellent and great God (principally Architect, of this worldly frame) hauing with al beautie bedecked the celestiall regions with angelicall Spirits, furnishing the heauenly spheares with soules eternall, and hauing repleni­shed this inferior part with all manner of plantes, hearbs, and liuing creatures. The diuine maiestie desirous to haue an artisicer, who might consider the reason of so high a worke, admire the greatnesse, and loue the beauty there­of, in the end made man, being of al worldly creatures the most miraculous, but this diuine workman hauing before the creation of man, dispensed proportionably of his trea­sures to al creaturet, & euerie kind of liuing thing, prescri­bing vnto them infallible laws, as to plants nourishment, to liuing creatures sence, & to Angels vnderstanding, & doub­ting with what maner of life he shuld adorne this his newe heire, this diuine artificer, in the ende determined to make him vnto whom hee could not assigne any thing in proper, partaker of al that, which the others enioyed, but in par­ticular, wherupon calling him vnto him, he sayd: Liue O Adam, in what life pleaseth thee best, and take vnto thy self those gifts which thou esteemest most deare. From wil this so liberall a graunt (most gracious Lady) had our free his original, so that it is in our power, to liue like a plant, li­uing creature like a man, & lastly as an Angell: for if a man addict himself only to feeding and nourishment, hee becommeth a Plante, if to things sensuall, he is as a brute beast, if to things reasonable & ciuil, he groweth a celesti­al creature: but if he exalt the beautiful gift of his mind, to thinges inuisible and diuine, hee transfourmeth him­selfe [Page 48]into an Angel; and to conclude, becommeth the sonne of God. To affirme therefore, that wee haue not power to free our selues from loue, after he hath planted his roote in our hearts, is no other but to reiect the most high gift gran­ted vnto vs by the chiefe creator, for our great perfection, and to say that we can liue no otherwise then creatures irra­tionall, which are wholly bent to sensualitie, is a matter al­togither false, seeing by the act of reason, we may reduce all affections to mediocritie, and pacifie these disordinate mo­tions of our mind: and amongst the rest, this of loue. The Lady Camilla was satisfied with this solution, which althogh it was commended, yet gaue it some yong men not liking there of occasion to mutter, that the empire of loue was vt­terly destroyed, and that after their so wonderfull excesse, hee should not haue authoritie, to make them so much as a safe conduct, or couer them vnder his great wings, they hol­ding that sentence true:

But the Lady Syluia Villa, whose turne it was now to speak by propounding her doubt, caused silence: and her question was, whether long distance and seperation increaseth or di­minisheth loue. That distance increseth loue (answered Gui rino) is very conformable to reason, by howe much the want is greater, by so much the more is desire augmented: The Louer therefore by reason of seperation, being more desti­tute of vnion, causeth his amorous desire to be the greater, or at least impaireth it not at all. As Petrarch affirmeth in the last Terzetto, when time and place before mine eies I set, saying.

[Page 49]Here Petrarch sheweth that his being in Italy farre from Laura, did not extenuate his loue, in that the beauty therof burned so much the more ardently, and remained alwaies the more fresh in memorie, and confirmed. Notwithstan­ding I (most famous Lady) to resolue this doubt, make this arbitrement, that if this separation be but for short time, it doth not diminish, but rather increase loue, through the hope of sodaine returne: but if it bee for any long time or continuance, it doth not onely impaire, but vtterly extin­guish loue, which is plainely manifested by this reason: for by what meane loue is procured, by the selfe same it is pre­serued. Loue therefore hauing production in mans heart, by meane of the eyes and sight, wee may with good rea­son couclude, that the sight of his deare beloued, is that, which sweetely nourisheth loue: and therefore we see, that one nor other thing, louers are more ententiue, then to be­hold their affected: whereas by great distant separation, the foode and nourishment of loue failing, of necessitie pining away through want, hee must needes bee weakened, and in the end perish. The Lady Syluia remained satisfied, and Madam Camilla Costabile peceruing all the companie to ex­pect hir proposition, without further delay, mooued this question: whether iealosie were a token of great loue. Whē, Guirino replied, it seemeth noble Lady, that ielosie is a signe of speciall loue, for we vsually say, that whoso greatly loueth, hee is not without feare, ielousie being no other but a maruailous feare, as before wee affirmed. To resolue therefore this doubt, I say that the heart of him greatly en­amored, is the proper subiect of this most bitter passion, which we terme ielosie, yet doth it not so presently take im­pression, which is a manifest signe, that the great heat then beginneth to qualifie: and when ielosie proceedeth so far that hope remaineth dead, by the victorie feare hath ob­tained, then that so feruent loue, enclining by little and lit­tle towardes his contrarie, is transformed into hatred and disdaine. Ielousie therefore is a signe of affectionate [Page 50]loue past, & slender affectiō present. This answer pleased the Lady Camilla. And the Queene beckened to the Lady coun­tesse of Sala, that she should moue her scruple: This most beautifull, and in all her actions and gestures most gracious Lady, besides her other rare qualities, is so readie of vtte­rance, and full of ingenious conceits, that she procureth the astonishment of all them that behold, or attend her. After shee had therefore paused a while, shee spoke in this sors. You haue defined loue to be no other but a defire of vnion; if this were true, it would likewise follow, that in things beloued, after the vnion and possession of beautie, loue shuld rest extinguished: for where there is no want, there can bee no desire, and yet experience teacheth the cōtrarie, that after enioyance of the beloued, we yet in loue make further progression. My question therefore shall bee, whether after possession of beautie, loue remaineth extinguished.

This doubt (most excellent lady, is of no smal importance) answered Guirino) because it dissenteth frō reason, that we shuld desire the things we haue alreadie in our power. Not­withstanding I would affirme, (alwaies excepting better iudgemēt) that loue may be maintained liuing in two wants, the one is in the wāto of simple vnion, & the other in want of vnion perpetual: after enioyance of beauty, the first want of simple vnion ceaseth, and then arifeth the want of perpetu­all vnion, for when wee enioy a thing present, yet are wee by and by in want, of that which is to come, which want is of force, to maintaine liuing this desire, that wee terme Loue: and therefore in that State, loue is no other but a de­sire of perpetuall enioying the thing beloued. With this ex­cellent distinction Guirino satisfied the Lady Countesse and all the standers by: when the Lady Camilla Beuelacqua cast out her doubt after this manner: In the definition of Loue, you affirmed, that it sprung from the knowledge of Beautie: this in my iudgement bringeth with it some diffi­culty, in that we see by experience, that some contemning [Page 51]the thing truely beautifull, grow enamoured with that, which to all others seemeth deformed and odious, there­fore necessarily you must affirme, that either deformitie to another may seeme beautie, or else that not alwaies beautie, but deformity also sometimes, may be the mother of loue: cleare therefore vnto mee this doubt, that your desinition remaine not vnperfect. As things materiall and corrupti­ble, fayre Ladie, aunswered Guirino, can neuer bee so beau­tifull, as that in them some defect may not be discouered, so doo they neuer carrie with them such deformitie, that some steppes of beauty may not appeare, for the euill disposition of matter cannot so greatly resist the Ideall forme and reason, but that in it the excellencie of the diuine artificer will discouer it selfe. They therefore, which vnto many seeme deformed, are neuer without some beautiful poynt, which beeing neuer so little, when it shall be conformable to anothers nature, in such a one will it be of such force to stirre vppe Loue, and there is no doubt but our mindes, as in the rest, so also in loue, are ve­rie diuers, and therefore some are enamoured with a beauti­full mouth, and sweete smiling countenance, others with a fayre breast, or iuory necke, some with delicate and white hands, others with the breath and comely grace, or some o­ther hidden beautie in a woman: who no sooner baite theyr wings on this louing limetwigge, but blinde in all other deformities of their beloued, beholding onely that parte wherewith theyr minde is contented, they deeme their owne mistresse of all other most woorthie, to bee beloued and serued: and so likewise, the least blemish in any faire woman may preuaile so farre in his minde, vnto whose nature and disposition it shall bee disproportion­able and displeasing, as contemning all other perfections, hee shall iudge her vnwoorthie of any mans loue. This therefore is true, that loue proceedeth from knowne beau­tie, because of deformitie, hatred, and of beautie, loue is the legitimate of spring.

[Page 52]This answere was commended: and the Lady Leonora Sa­crati further replied: tell me Signior Guirino, if loue bee the selfe same with desire, why doth your definitions, lately de­liuered, call it in question, and yet Leon the Iew in his third dialogue of loue, saith, that loue is no other but a desire, which is also conformable to experience, seeing wee loue because we desire, and desire because we loue. Leon the Iew, a man questionlesse of quicke and excellent witte, answe­red Guirino, hath in this committed an error as one that con­tradicteth him selfe in the first Dialogue, wherein hee distinguisheth loue from desire: but to resolue your doubt, I auerre, that if we consider loue as an affection, it is as dif­ferent from desire, as the beginning from the middest: see­ing loue is that sodaine and first motion, which groweth in mans minde through apprehension of conformable beauty, which without consent of hope, disturbeth that minde, and altering the heart and desire grounded vppon hope, followeth loue, it being a meane to attain to the end, which is vnion with beautie. Notwithstanding, loue is taken for desire, because after the first motion it is transformed into desire, and then it is true that we loue, because we desire, and desire, because we loue. The L. Leonora replied no further: but Madam Tarquinia Molza: It seemeth, added shee, that this your conclusion is contrarie to the Philosopher, for he in his Politikes saith thus, that none can loue, except he first be delighted with beautie, and he thus delighted in beautie, loueth not sodainely, but then loueth, when he desireth, the thing beloued beeing absent, and hath to it as great a zeale being present.

Our of these wordes wee collect, that desire preceed eth and followeth not loue Wee must obserue (learned Ladie) (aunswered Guirino) that the Philosopher speaketh not of loue in this place, as it is a perturbation, and that first motion by vs before spoken of: but intendeth it by louing action, desirous to inferre, that the Louer is not brought to such acte, before Loue bee resolued into a desire of [Page 53]the thing beloued; and this is so farre from being contra­ry, as that it is conformable to all our pofitions. The Ladie Tarquinia highly commended this cleere explication of A­ristotles wordes, and vsing no further speech, the Lady Vi­ctoria Tassona propounded her doubt after this sort. Hither­to you haue discoursed of loue, we giuing attention, not knowing as yet, whether loue be a good or discommenda­ble thing, when notwithstāding this most principally shuld be taught: for all our desires and actions being moued from the knowledge of good and euill, we flying alwayes known euill, and following the good: who is hee that would not a­uoyde loue, if he thought it wicked, or would not folowe it, esteeming it good: resolue me therefore of this doubt, whe­ther loue be good or wicked. Petrarch wittily disputeth, (answered Guirino) vpon this probleme, in the Song,

Where hee faining to cite loue, before the tribunall of reason, accuseth him as wicked and peruerse: and loue de­fendeth him selfe; in the end of which conflict, reason ha­uing heard, both the one and other part, leaueth the contro­uersie vndecided, saying:

Notwithstanding the reasons are not of light importāce, by which our minds should be induced to beleeue, that loue is a wicked thing. First, in that it is an exceeding perturba­tion of our mind; and perturbations being contrary to tran­quillitie, which is one of the principallest conditions of hu­mane felicitie, being good of it selfe, and to be desired, and therefore of necessitie al those of themselues are wicked and odious: secondly, because he depriueth vs of libertie: thirdly, [Page 54]for that further he cōtending with reason, auoydeth al good operations: As Petrarch affirmeth, complaining him selfe, of loue, in the third Stanza of this vnderwritten Sonnet, say­ing:

And a little more vnderneath,

And in the triumph of loue:

And further, loue is a cause, that loosing our selues, wee are transformed into another, as Petrarch affirmeth of him selfe in the Song by me cited.

And in the third chapter of loue:

Ariosto also supposeth, that Loue, for the most part, is a wicked thing, when he saith:

Notwithstanding most gente Lady, I am of a contrary o­pinion, and hold, that loue is a most excellent thing, and necessary to a good and happy life: but I vnderstand not this by bestiall loue: For this vndoubtedly is wicked, and [Page 55]that which depriueth of libertie, and auoydeth all good o­perations, there being no greater seruitude then sin: and this peraduenture Petrarch vnderstoode when he said:

But speaking of other sorts of loue, all are good, and pro­fitable to a man: and comming to the first, which for his ex­cellencie, is called diuine loue: this is most excellent, in that being a desire of vnition, with the thing beutifull, as the true Image of Diuinitie, by meane of humane creature, it lifteth vp the minde to loue beautie, and is inflamed with incredi­ble loue towardes his Creator. Neither can that loue be ter­med wicked, which bursteth out into desire, of generating by honest meane, the thing beautifull, in that being ioyned with a desire of eternitie, of al other, it procureth the great­est good to mākind. But what shal we say of the other kind of loue, placed in the second degree of temperance? may we peraduenture affirme it wicked, seeing farre from all bru­tish action, in the contemplation of beautie onely, and reci­procall affection of his deare beloued he contents him selfe? This is that perfect degree of loue, which enflameth the hearts of men to glorious enterprises. Wherefore Petrarch calling to minde his errour, in this Sonnet vnder all cadged, when he so rashly indignified Loue, in the sixt Stanza, and also in the rest of the Sonnet he faineth him selfe by loue, ta­xed of ingratitude, saying:

And alittle afterwardes in the same Song:

And in the last Stanza sauing one, hee affirmeth that this loue is acceptable to God and men.

We will conclude therfore, that loue is a good and sweet thing: and more, whosoeuer findeth not him selfe inueigled with some of these louing snares, is but a sottish man, and of the common sort. It remaineth that I answere the contra­rie arguments, for better vnderstanding: Bee it therefore knowne vnto you, that the perturbations and affections of the minde, are no other but sodaine and forcible motions of the concupiscent & angry faculties stirred vp by the know­ledge of things delightfull or noysome, as I haue said, these being procured by Nature her selfe, who doth nothing in vaine, or which is not conformable to diuine prouidence, and therefore cannot be saide to be wicked; for that were no other than to reprehend God, and Nature her selfe, who [Page 57]gaue vnto man the vertue of the angry and concupiscent fa­culties: affections therefore in themselues, are rather good and necessary to the creatures and man, than wicked; for without them, the parts indiuiduall, and kinde, could not be preserued, considering that these moue the creature to acti­on, yet may they be wicked in a man, when resoluing into desire, they obay not reason, for then they become brutish: wherefore affections touching man, may be compared to a horse, who bridled, is very good and profitable, but hurt­full without bit; because casily hee carieth the rider awaye headlong, affections being greater benefite to man, then to other vnreasonable creatures: for man without affections, should be also without vertue, vertue being no other, then an habit, imprinted in our angry & concupiscent faculties, by meane of which all other affections are easily reduced to mediocritie, and therefore, as S. Augustine saith, to a Chri­stian, concupiscence and anger be necessary, to stirre vppe temperance, continence, tollerance, and fortitude. And the same Saint in the fourteenth booke of the cittie of God af­firmeth, that affections agree wel, with the beloued of God; saying: that the Cittizens of the holy cittie, who liue ac­cording to God, in the pilgrimage of this life, do feare, are angrie, desirous, sad, and merry: but because in these, loue hath a good ordination, in them all these perturbations are moderate and good: wherevppon that shrill Trumpet of truth said: be angrie, but sinne not: to which opinion con­forming my selfe, I also saie; loue Oyee gentle yong men, and be enamoured you faire, and most gratious Ladies, for loue is a good thing; but sinne not. This excellent conclu­sion, was with great contentment, especially of the vong gentlemen accepted and praised: but after their whisper­ings were somwhat ceassed, the Lady Countesse Tieni, a wo­man of most loftie conceit, whose turne it was to propound, bethinking her selfe a little. At last: I would willingly know saide she, whether the beloued, be bound to reciprocation in loue, and by what reason: if we enter into consideration [Page 58]of Loues definition, which you Signior Guirino haue made, this seemeth an Iniunction, not onely of courtesie, but also of necessitie. For that secret conformitie of nature, which is betweene the louer and the beloued, as it forceth him ina­mored to loue, so ought it to vrge in her affected, an answe­rable loue. For besides that (crediting me) things of con­formable nature, should haue a conformable desire, and in­clination. Yet further, if wee attribute any thing to Dant a Poet of great authoritie, wee will be ready to affirme that Loue is so iust a Lord, that he exempteth none beloued fro louing, but with his mighty power, and burning firebrands he enflameth the hearts of all them beloued, with loue mu­tuall towardes their louers. Notwithstanding how may wee credite this, beholding the teares and hot sighes of these ina­mored yong Gentlemen, who shew manifest tokens of the crueltie of their ingratefull Mistresses? Putte mee there­fore out of this doubt. Ariosto and Petrarch were of contrary opinion to Dant, answered Guirino, who in diuers places affirme, that Loue doth not force and binde the be­loued to affect; but on the contrary, seldome are the desires of her beloued, correspondent to those of her louer: and therefore Ariosto complaining him selfe, saith:

And alittle after:

And Petrarch maketh the subiect, of one parte of his Sonnets and Songs, sometimes of the crueltie and ingrati­tude of his Laura, otherwhiles of the treachery of loue, and especially in the Sonnet, ‘There was a day when sunne obscured darke:’

[Page 59]Saying in the last Terzetto:

And in the Sonnet by me cited, he sayth, speaking of loue:

And in the third Stanza of the Sonnet which beginneth: ‘In time when heauens are furiously enclinde,’

Hee saith:

For absolution therefore of this doubt, I say that the na­tural conformitie which is betweene the louer and beloued, is a conformitie betweene the obiect and forcible power, for the beloued with her beautie, concurreth as obiect, and there is but seldome conformitie betweene the one and o­thers power: And therefore it may easily fall out, that the beautie of the affected may bee apte and conformable, to mooue the minde of the Louer, when in very deede [Page 60]the beautie of the Louer, shall not haue the like conformi­tie in the minde of the beloued, or be preualent to kindle in her amorous passion. For this cause the Poets fained, that Loue had two sorts of darts, that is some gilded, and others of lead, and that those gilded had power to enflame, & those of lead to congeale & freese: as also that he pearced louers with his golden shafts, when the beloued, were for the most part stricken with the leaden ones, and therfore Pe­trarch willing to cleare him selfe, sweareth saying:

Notwithstanding she beloued, is bound by election, per­ceiuing the loiall and faithfull seruice of her seruant, to re­tourne the like mutuall affection, which not doing, she fal­leth into the errour of ingratitude, in that shee beloued re­ceiueth secret honour and commendation, by this affection of hir louer, she shewing in that most notable perfection, & such, as that it vrgeth him to be enamored, to loue and serue her, and so much the more she must holde herself bound, if she perceiue her selfe beloued with one of those kindes of loue before rehearsed: for if shee obserue her selfe affected with this brutish and sordide loue, she is no waies bound to answerable affection, neither for this shal she be deemed in­grate, but rather in hating such a louer, she deserueth praise and commendation. The Lady Countesse replied no fur­ther: And Madam Camilla Mosti propounded her doubt, which was, whether it were better to loue or bee beloued. That to loue is better (answered Guirino) may be affirmed by the Philosophers authoritie, for to loue is action, and with some contentment, being good, but from the beloued there proceedeth no action: and moreoner it is better to knowe then be knowne, and the Louer knoweth, but shee affected as hauing loue made to her, may bee depriued of knowledge, and therefore thinges without life may be be­loued, [Page 61]but neuer loue: finally, the louer in louing, exerciseth the work of charitie, which doth not the beloued: And ther­fore the Philosopher affirmeth, that to delight in louing ra­ther than to be beloued, is a more commendable thing, and a signe of greater excellencie in good custome and fashion. On the other side, it seemeth, that to bee beloued is greater perfection; for to loue, being the same as to desire, proueth want of perfection in the louer, wherein she beloued doth a­bound: and further, by how much the final cause is more per­fect thā the efficiēt so much doth the beloued exceed in per­fection the louer, in that she affected concurreth as the lo­uing and desired end, and the louer is procured to loue, in fauour of her affected, or to receiue from her some perfecti­on. Now clearing this doubt, I say, that this word to loue, may be interpreted in two senses; one is, to desire vnition with the thing beloued, to the ende to obtaine perfe­ction from it; the other, in desiring to giue vnto the thing beloued some perfection. In the first sense, as riches is better than pouertie, so is it better to be beloued than af­fect.

And in this manner are the kindes of humane loue fette downe by me; for the louer seeketh vnion with the belo­ued, to obtaine perfection from her beautie, where of hee hath want. After this sort likewise dooth the creature loue his Creator, seeking vnition with him, for to participate of his perfection. In the second sence, it is a thing much more excellent to loue, than bee beloued: for in the louer wee suppose plenty, and in the beloued penury. With this loue God loueth the creature, and desireth to vnite it with his diuine Maiestie, to reach vnto it full perfection. With this loue the Prince loueth his subiects, and the greater his inferior, to giue and not receiue perfection.

Out of this wee haue spoken, you (most honourable Lady) shall gather this singular conclusion, that all loues haue their originall from aboundaunce or defect, as the di­uine Philosopher affirmeth in his Conuiuio, and in his booke [Page 62]called Lyside, faining that Poro, which signifieth riches, is the father, and Penia, which importeth pouertie, is the mother of loue. For loue springeth either from the penurie of the Louer, or wealth of the beloued, or from want in the belo­ued, and superaboundance in the Louer. The Lady Camilla commended the answer, and all the other Gentlewomen, wishing within themselues, to be rather rich affected, then poore inamored. The Lady Lucretia Machiauella propoun­ded this excellent question: whether is more feruent, the loue of a man towardes a woman, or of a woman towardes a man?

Most gentle Lady aunswered Guirino, the reasons are not of small moment, by which wee may conclude, that wo­men exceede in loue, whereof the first is perfection, which women receiue frō vnition with man, as by the Philosopher it is confirmed, where hee entreateth of vniuersall begin­nings of things naturall: who desirous to shewe the great desire, the first matter hath of vnition with forme, sayth, that shee desireth forme, as the female desireth the male: and this is in no other respect, but because matter requireth perfection from forme, as doth the female from the male. Woman therefore attayning perfection from man, and not man from woman, so amorous desire in her is more emi­nent then that in man. But further, if wee shall but consi­der the proper subiect and abode of loue, wee shall finde that it is in soft and delicate hearts, the which continually are nourished with sweete and pleasing cogitations, as di­uine Petrarch heere testifieth, speaking of loues originall, when he sayth:

Women therefore beeing naturally soft, delicate, and v­sually [Page 63]idle, being nourished with sweete and pleasant cogi­tations: and on the contrarie, men beeing sterne, and for the most part, entangled in serious meditations, wee may conclude, that loue taking greater nourishment in the heart of a woman, becommeth also more preualent and vigorous. Although I, notwithstanding these reasons, do hold the contrarie for trueth, and that amorous passion is much more vehement in man then in woman: and I am mooued thereto by this most probable supposition, that the more preualent cause, bringeth foorth the more forcible effect. The beautie then of woman beeing farre more excellent then that of man, as Signior Patritio yester day shewed: and beauty being the cause which produceth loue, it will follow, that the beautie of a woman shall bring forth in mans heart amorous affection: much more ar­dently, then shall the beautie of a man, in the heart of a wo­man: and therefore reason willeth, that the name of belo­ued be attributed to the woman, and the name of Louer to man, being proper to a woman (and reward of her beautie) to be belouèd and serued of man, mans property confisting in louing and seruing her, as his naturall mistresse. That this is true, experience teacheth, for a woman seldome pricked forwarde with a morous affection, is mooued to loue a man, or if shee loueth, shee doth it but to auoyde the vice of ingratitude, knowing her selfe to bee beloued, and faythfully serued.

It is no maruaile then, if in the heart of a Woman, this fire beeing alwayes so slenderly kindled, it is in possibilitie by euerie blast of disdaine, to bee extingui­shed, and that shee is so apt to change, will, and minde. Answeting therefore, vnto the contrary reasons, and first to the authoritie of the Philosopher, I say it is true, that the first matter desireth forme as the female the male. For as the female, which in this respect representeth Nature, desireth the male, not for her owne perfection, because shee [Page 64]is most perfect, but for the conseruation of her proper kinde, and for generall perfection, so matter desireth not forme for her perfection, because she in her owne essence is perfect inough: neither being matter, hath it neede of forme, but she desireth the vnion of forme, for generall perfection, to the end this composition might be made. To the other reason I answere, that the heart of women is farre more soft and delicate then is mans, and shee is idle, nouri­shed with sweete and pleasant cogitations, but I denie these to be the principall harbourers of amorous passions, al­though indeede they bee easie and plaint subiects of com­passion. For the tender and gentle heart of a woman not being able to endure the feruent sighes, teares, and lamen­tations of her faythfull Louer, is procured to satisfie him with mutuall affection, by compassion rather subdued, then amorous passion.

I doubt Signior Guirino, replyed the Lady Machiauella, that you haue rather procured your selfe diminution, then attribution of our fauour, your demerite deseruing the one so much more aboue the bond wherein we are tyed to ren­der the other, as the meanest blame you haue imputed vnto vs, exceedeth the vncertain commendation mixed therwith­al: and truly this is a new kind of reprehension, when vnder praise lieth hidden deprauation: but who knoweth not that vnder commendation of our beauty, you haue priuily ex­pressed the rebuke of tyranny? and by shewing how we be­come louers by election, you hane made vs as it were altogi­ther rebellious to loue. But which is worse, you haue descri­bed vs for flitting & inconstant, which blame vndoubtedly doth so far excee de the prayse of compassion, as the vice of infidelitie surmounteth the natural vertue of pietie: & al is vntrue: for wee are not tyrannous, nor rebellious fro loue, but louing, more constant and faithfull then men. You Ladie, aunswered Guirino, haue interpreted my wordes in sinister sence, for the commendation is true and pro­perly belonging to you, and the blame is vncertaine, and [Page 65]not by your fault. I confesse, that vnder the name of your beauty I haue expressed tyranny, conforming my selfe with Socrates, who was wont to say (speaking of humane beautie) that she was a tyrant that raigned but a smal time. This most wise Philosopher, desirous to inferre, that beauty in the ma­ner of a tyrant, doth violently dououre and drawe vnto her selfe all those mindes, which may comprehend her, exerci­sing ouer them all, tyrannicall empire. Therefore you can not auoyde, but being faire, you must also be tyrants, neither can this be ascribed vnto you for discommendation, seeing it is a particular priuilege granted vnto you from God and na­ture, to the end that by meane of loue, you might by autho­ritie by vs men, be loued and serued. This secret and naturall vice of tyranny which is in you, haue I yet after such a sort tempered with pietie, that it shoulde not seeme greeuous vnto you, to bee called Tyrants by nature, and gratious Queenes by election; neither haue I made you altogether rebellious to loue, though I haue attributed vnto you ra­ther the name of beloued than louing, hauing also shewed that it is greater perfection to be beloued, than loue: and notwithstanding it is true that you are ready to change your will and minde, this is in you rather a vertue than vice, being a manifest signe, that amorous affection can not pre­uaile so farre with you, but iust disdaine may much more, neyther doe you make your selues so seruile, but that still you reserue your princely authoritie, which neither can nor will support the least contempt: and your selfe (Ladie) giueth heere of ample testimony, who not for any offence, but vpon suspition, that amongst diuers praises of women, I had sowed some little seede of blame, al angry on a sodain, haue changed your minde and opinion towardes me, decla­ring me, not onely vnworthy of your owne fauour, but al­so of the gracious respect of al these ladies: Notwithstàding confident in my innocencie, and in their iust and mercifull authoritie, I liue in hope, that more than euer heereto­fore they will grace me with their fauour.

[Page 66]This playsted (answered the Lady Machiauella,) will not a whit mollifie the impostume of my iust wrath: for I af­firme it is false, that wee women are tyrants or rebellious to Loue, beeing certaine, that in louing we are more faith­full and constant then men, which you also would confesse, if you were not of a malignant minde: see­ing fidelitie and constancye themselues bee of the Fe­minine, and not of the Masculine gender. Al the stan­ders by, smiled at this replication, and the Lady Victoria Bentiuoglia, whose beauty the Graces themselues accompa­ny, said.

You Signior Guirino, haue beere by the authoritie of Pe­trarch confirmed, that the louer transformeth him selfe into the beloued, of which I am verie doubtfull, as not be­ing able to imagine, what manner of transformation this should bee, neither will I bee so foolish to beleeue that Petrarch after the manner of Daphne, transformed him selfe into Laura. I am desirous therefore, that you would verifie vnto mee your saying, manifesting vnto mee, howe it may bee that the louer should bee transformed into the beloued. When Guirino aunswered: your desire is no­ble (most gentle Ladie) wherein to satisfie you, it is necessarie that I discouer some secrets, which to the Philosophers are onely knowne. You shall therefore vnderstande, that we cannot perceiue before the instru­ment of sence, bee first made like to the thing percei­ued. Which similitude notwithstanding, is neither reall nor materiall, but wee call it Spiritall and imma­teriall: as for example, I cannot perceiue or see your faire and gracious forme, if first mine eyes (the sensible instrument of sight) doo not so draw it into it selfe, as that it becommeth like to the same.

Notwithstanding, you (faire Lady) beholding in mine eies, may see your goodly shape, as in a most cleare glasse: For betweene the glasse and the eye there is no further difference, but that the glasse is an eie without life, and the [Page 67]eye is a liuing glasse. Nowe this your beautifull Image, is transported, by meane of the most subtile vitall spirites, and imprinted in the inward organe, that is, the intrinsecate part of the braine, which also becommeth like vnto her, and from thence receiued into my soule, my soule her selfe ta­keth of you the whole similitude, so that we may say, that while I see and behold youpresent, my soule wholy trans­figured into you, is no other but the true pourtraiture of your selfe.

This which by proofe is verified in exterior sense, is also as true in sense interiour, which is that vertue of the sensitiue facultie, called fantasie, or imagination, which is of force to contemplate and perceiue obiectes, although they be absent, by those imaginations which remaine im­printed in the interior organ or member: whensoeuer ther­fore our soule imagineth any thing, she becommeth like vn­to it, and further, spiritally transformeth her selfe into the thing imagined: the same that happeneth to sense, falleth out likewise to vnderstanding, vnderstanding beeing in a manner altogether like to sense: for while the vnderstand­ing conceiueth and beholdeth anything, it is transformed into it, and becommeth the same: and therefore happie are those, who employ the beautifull gift of the minde, to contemplate diuine and high things; for in that state, they become diumitie it selfe. By this which I haue expounded vnto you (most honorable Lady) you may easily compre­hend the transformation of the louer into the beloued. For it is not a reall, but a spiritall transformation: For the true louer bearing always the representation of the beloued im­printed in his soule, and neuer ayming his thoughtes, but towardes his beloued obiect, in that state hee commeth to bee transformed into it. Whereuppon the diuine Philosopher in his Conuiuio, describing the force of Loue, saith, that Loue, with such a strong knotte knitteth louers together, that of twoo hee maketh one alone, willing to inferre, that those, who absolutely giue themselues ouer [Page 68]in prey to amorous passions, are after such a sorte enten­tiue on their louing cogitations, as it may be affirmed, that the soule disioyned from the body, liueth in the beloued: & therefore no meruaile, though the bodies of Louers depri­ued of vitall vigor, do consume and languish: The which heere Petrarch auerreth of himselfe, in these Terzetti of this Sonnet: At euery pace I turne my selfe about, saying:

With this answer the Ladies and Knights remained ve­ry well satisfied, who expected with great desire to vnder­stand▪ this meruailous Metainorphosis. And his Mistris Lucretia Calcagnina, a Matron, adorned with all gentle fa­shion, made her doubt in this sorte. It happeneth oftentimes, that after a long and colde conuersation bet wixt man and woman, in the ende either one with the other, or both of them are enflamed with loue reciprocall, the which as it is true, so bringeth it that into doubt by you spoken, that the Louer is presently enamoured, as conformable beautie dis­couereth it selfe vnto him: for I would reason thus: either that the beautie so often contemplated▪ is to the Louer con­formable, or not, if it be conformable, wherefore doth it not in a moment cause loue? but if there be no such conformity, how can it procure this after long time? cleare mee this doubt. When Guirino: Two manner of waies gratious La­dy, may your doubt be resolued. First I alleadge, that in di­uers respects, how long soeuer their conuersation be, it may happen, that to the Louer those beauties may be concealed which were more apt to enamour him, seeing a fine foote, a beautifull leg, a faire arme, a quicke and liuely gate, or o­ther excellencies of the body hitherto couered, & sudainly or by chance perceiued, may kindle amorous flames: I will [Page 69]also affirme, that not onely the singularities of body, but those of the minde also, may procure loue: and because these do not so sodainely discouer themselues, to the eye of the soule, which is the reasonable part, and that by little and little, with long obseruation seeth and beholdeth, therefore not so sodainely, but after long conuersation, they enslame the louer, so soone as he knoweth them, and after he is enflamed, with that which before with his bo­dily eyes he sawe, and was not there with contented, then with delight he reioyceth and is glad: for as the beauty of the body is of force to conceale from the louer the defects of the minde, and to make them appeare lesse waightie, so the perfections of the minde, after they haue with sweete and honest contentment fastned on the louer, are of vigor to transforme the deformities of the bodie beloued, and make it to the louer seeme beautifull, or at least, not bru­tish.

This aunswer was taken for sufficient, when the Ladie Countesse of Sala, I would willingly know sayd she, whether a louer at one time may loue two mistresses: and this my question ariseth, in hauing seene diuers times by experience, that they are seldome louers, who are content with one loue alone. No seruant (most honourable Lady (answered Guiri­no) can serue two Masters, neither can one Louer at the same instant, serue more then one inistris, which by many reasons is manifest: And first because the beauty of two subiects is either equall, or else we discouer the difference of more or lesse: If they be equall, neither of the one nor of the other can he become louing: for finally, loue being no other but desire, and desire of it selte being vndetermined, it is neces­sary, that placed between two obiects, it should be determi­ned by the better, or the worse, by the more beautifull, or more deformed, other wise it would be alwaies immoueable: and therefore Iohn Baccone a Philosopher, and most learned diuine, was wont to say, that if the horse were in away e­qually distant from two barly fieldes of like goodnesse, he [Page 70]should be in danger to die for hunger, for his appetite would not be moued more to the one then to the other corne. Hee therefore, who were in the presence of two women, equally faire, not being able to bend his desire, mooued through knowledge of sence, more to the one then the other, should rest immouable, and consequently, would loue neither the one, nor the other: but if there were a difference of more & lesse, desire inclining it selfe, would bee enflamed with the more beautifull, and the other should take no place: but further, if the Louer transformeth himselfe into the belo­ued, as before wee saide, not being able to transforme him­selfe into two, but into one subiect only, so shall he bee able to loue but one subiect alone: to conclude, as that which hath taken place within, is an impediment to the other, but exte­rior, which would surprise him: so that obiect which shall haue taken the possession of the louers heart, will forbid a­ny other that attempteth to pearce thereinto: the which Pe­trarch sheweth in diuers places, to be true in him selfe, and principally in the Sonnet: ‘Athousand times sweet warlike mistris mine.’

Speaking of his heart, now possessed by his Laura, saith:

And in the sonnet: ‘Shaming sometimes, although she holde her peace:’

Saith:

And in the sonnet: ‘Full of that sweet, vnspeakable delight:’

Hee saith:

[Page 71]And in the sonnet: ‘Seeing that for my hire, this way is mee debard:’

He faith:

Touching experience of those louers, which are not con­tented with one loue alone, it is altogether false, because they are no true Louers but treacherous rebels to loue, as those, who caried away with a furious storme of lust, fancy rather beastiall, then humane loue. the answer pleased the Lady Countesse, and all the other Gentlewomen. But Ma­dam Syluia Villa, a yong damozel of most beautifull and gen­till presence, seeing you conclude, saide shee, that a Louer cannot loue two Mistresses, shew mee also if one beloued of two seuerall friends, to auoide ingratitude, ought to content both Louers with intercourse of affection? From the former conclusion answered Guirino, proceedeth the absolution of this present doubt. For the beloued, not being able to per­forme correspondencie in loue, except she also become en­amored, and it beeing in the Louers power to affect but one subiect, shee can loue and fauour but one alone; for doing o­therwise, shee shall not only, not auoyde the vice of ingrati­tude, but defrauding the first louer, of his part in that whole, which is his in all reason, shalbe most vnthankfull. The La­dy Syluia cōmended this answer, when Madam Anne Stroz­za, a Matron, whose fauor is accompanied, with modest af­fabilitie, propounded after this manner: Men inamored amongst many wordes, which they vtter, intermixed with teares and sighs, they are wont to their beloued, with oath to affirm, that they affect them aboue themselues: on which wordes, hauing many times mused, I euer found my selfe in greater doubt thē before, neither can I be resolued whether [Page 72]it may be true, that the Louers affection towardes his Mi­stris, is greater, then to his owne self. Tell me therefore Sig­nior Guirino your opinion. It is requisite answered Guirino: before I resolue you, that you most noble Lady be aduerti­sed, that doubt hath no place in the loue, whereof wee haue entreated, which is a desire of vnion, and supposeth indi­gence of the thing beloued, for with this loue towardes our selues we cannot be affected, notwitstanding the fable of Narcissus, first because vnion presupposeth two at the least, secondly because of our selues wee can haue no want. Ther­fore your demaund hath place in that loue, which we terme good will, which is no other, but a desire of giuing, or see­ing perfection in some subiect; touching which wee haue to consider, that all loues haue originall from the affection towardes our selues, the which is such, and so great, that all things created contend euer to woorke in fauour of them­selues, and hee that should further say, that the creator fa­shioned the world for no other cause, but to please himselfe, should not speak much amisse, which being true as it is, how vaine are the wordes of flattering louers, when they affirme that they loue their mistresses better then themselues: But because there is no lie so great, as in it there may not appeare some shadow of truth, it may so happen, that the louer desi­reth some sort of humane good more in his mistresse, then in himselfe, as riches, honour, and such like, and in this sence it may bee true, that he could wish better to his be­loued, then to himselfe. But he desireth such good to please himselfe, it cannot therefore be sayd, that he loueth his mi­stresse better then himselfe. But wee see by experience re­plyed Lady Anne, that some louers depriued of the hope of their beloued, haue also suffered the priuation of life, and wee reade that the faithfull wife of Ametus, refused not to offer her selfe to voluntarie death for the loue of her husband: which is a manifest signe, that the louer may affect his beloued aboue himselfe. And if we may credit Petrarch, it may bee sayde, that the louer may not onely loue his mi­stresse [Page 73]aboue him selfe, but hating himselfe, may plant all his affection in her: as hee affirmeth of himselfe in the sonnet,

Be assured (noble Lady) answered Guirino, that violent killers of themselues, do that for no other end, but in a loue to their own persons, and to please themselues, being of opinion, that death shuld be to thē as an ease, of some insupportible griefe: and the wife of Ametus (supposing the fable to be true) with­out doubt perfourmed that louing offer, in fauour of her selfe, either as desirous of glorie, or to auoide the sorrowe which by the death of her husband, she thought in her selfe insupportable: neither want there examples of men most studious of glorie, who to acquire immortall fame vnto themselues, haue embraced voluntarie death as we reade of Curtius, of the Decij, of Attilius Regulus, and other noble Romaines, whose attempts out of doubt were vndertaken, more for their own contentment, then for loue of their coū ­trie. So that I thinke there is not so simple a woman, which beleeueth such vaine wordes, produced by Louers for their owne contentment, and by such like dissimulations, to ob­taine reciprocall affection, from their affected. This opini­on of Guirino was by the gentlewomen approued true, not without some secret heart-burning of the gentlemen ena­mored: and neuer a gentlewoman remaining to propound any more questions, the Queene spoke after this sorte: Al­thogh doubt is litle befitting princely Maiestie, being a ma­nifest signe of ignorance, the which of all other defects in Princes is most reprochfull, ouercome notwithstanding with a naturall desire of vnderstanding, I desire it may bee lawful for me, Signior Guirino to demand of you, if in the Lo­uer not beloued, loue can long time indure. To doubt saide Guirino, most renowmed Queene; proceedeth rather from equalitie of contrarie reason, then from ignorance: & to be circumspectly doubtfull, may rather bee ascribed to a­boundance, then want of knowledge: Your highnes there­fore [Page 74]in doubting, hath not only, not offended royall Maie­stie, but by mouing a most excellent question, hath giuen triall of your noble conceit, and by fauouring me, exercised your high and magnificent curtesie. Therefore before I an­swer your Maiestie, I will declare the fable recited by most singular Themistius, in his sixt oration. The goddesse Themis, saith he, being before Ʋenus, who had brought forth Cupide, hauing highly commended the beauty of that winged child, added: sincere loue may well be borne, but that he should grow by himselfe alone, vnderstand O Venus, it can no wayes be: Therefore if you desire that this your deare sonne, may encrease to his proportionable greatnesse, beget and bring forth another like to him, for such will the nature of these two brothers bee, that in beholding one another, both of them will grow alike, and looke how much shal diminish in one, no lesse will there impaire in the other. Venus perswa­ded by this most wise goddesse, produced Anterota Cupides lawfull brother. By this fable wee may easily comprehend, that loue alone cannot endure in the louers heart, and for his maintainance and reduction, to his due stature, it is ne­cessary, be beholde, and sport with his brother Anterota. Yet, Signior Guirino, experience teacheth the contrarie, an­swered the Queene: for euery day, we see diuers enamored, without hauing the least signe of interchaungeable affecti­on, obstinate altogether in amorous enterprise, & peraduen­ture confident in the saying of Dant before repeated: ‘By loue, beloued, cake, from loue, are not exempt.’

And Petrarch himselfe, though his Lauretta were froward and ingrate vnto him, notwithstanding as an obstinate Lo­uer, burst forth into these verses.

There be two sortes of Louers not beloued againe, an­swered Guirino, the one finding alwaies in his Mistris, a pride correspondent to her beautie, without receiuing at any time the least signe of loue, but euer discouering in her counte­nance, a duskish cloude of disdaine, he most vnhappily lo­ueth. In the heart of such a Louer (most renowned Queene) affection cannot continue, but giuing place to wrath, anger, and disdaine, flying away, it departeth, being vnpossible, that it alone should wrestle long with reason, accompanied by these other most forcible affections. The other sorte, see­ing the brow of their deare beloued, sometimes faire, and sometimes cloudie, the Louer doubtfull within himselfe, & feeding vppon a sweet aire of hope, affecting, seruing, and entreating, maintaineth himselfe long time. Such a Louer was Petrarch, as he describeth himselfe in the verses recited to your highnes, and in other songs and sonnets, but especi­ally in the sonnet:

Guirinos answere was of the Queene accepted, and by the standers by approoued for good, it seeming to all impossi­ble, that where hope cannot bee setled, loue should there make any long residence: and with this ending the discourse of loue, the Queene commanded that they would practise some pleasant conceits of diuination and fortune-telling, as amongst women they vse to do: and while they were inten­tiue on this pastime, the Duke, and Lady Duchesse, priui­ly entring into the pallace, they suddēly caused to be put in­to the chamber, where this noble cōpany were assembled a Doe, takē quicke in the nets, which hopping here & there, [Page 76]leapt vppon the Gentlewomen. Whereuppon verie fearefull of this terrible creature, each one without tarrying for another, ranne all out into the great Hall, whome the excellent Duchesse meeting, with the other beautifull Huntresses, in a sodain their feare was turned into laughter: and after a while, the huntsmen arriuing with a mightie winde of hornes, and crie of dogges, his highnesse comman­ded, that the chase should be brought into the hall, which being doone, there were many boares layed out, whereof some were so great, that the women durst not beholde them. The rest of the day was spent in discoursing vppon such accidents as fell out in their Game, the gentlewomen taking no lesse contentment to heare of that, then did the Hunters in recounting their owne exployts, in encoun­tring and killing these terrible beastes. Euening beeing come, his highnesse caused a most pleasant Comedie to bee recited by the Gelosi. These bee certaine Coemedi­ans, who requested euerie yeare by his highnesse, are wont to come in the end of Autumne, and hee taketh them along to the sea side, as also the whole Carneuale or Shroue­tide, to their great gaine, and contentment of all the Cit­tie, they employ themselues in Commicall representati­ons, and are verie apte in imitating all manner of persons and actions humane, but especially those, which are fit­test to procure laughter, in which poynte they are so prompt and excellent, that they would make Heraclitus himselfe to laugh. The Comedie ended, they practised certaine pastimes, and beeing late, his highnesse rose vp, and each one departed to their seuerall lodgings. The day following was passed ouer by his highnesse in ano­ther pleasant and delightsome chase, in which they killed Harts, and wilde Goats, with other beastes, to the singular contentation of the Ladies and Gentlewomen which were present. At the selfe same time, the vsuall compa­nie beeing retired into the accustomed roome, the Ladie Camilla Costabili, was by chance, drawen Queene, a Matrone [Page 77]of stately presence, and adorned with most gentle cu­stomes, who not to lette slippe the accustomed wont of entertaining the time, and iudging that the entreatie of honor, would be delightsome and profitable to euery noble spirite, in that honour many times is badly obserued, by not knowing the nature therof, therfore she commanded Signi­or Gualenguo a genleman, not onely most skilfull in handling his weapon, but also learned, and very iudicial in thinges ap­pertaining to honor and combate, who desirous to please the Queene, without other replie began in this maner.

A Most not able and eminent subiect, doth our Queene this day propound to be entreated of, which is Honor, it being with humane life in such sort connexed, that there is not any condition or qualitie of men, to whō the knowledge of honor is not commodious: but aboue all others, it is so necessarie in a man noble and ciuill, as without it, be­ing ouershadowed, as it were with the obscure darkenesse of ignorance, for the most part, in steede of honour, hee im­braceth infamie. This is that ardent heate which enfla­meth the minde of man, to glorious enterprises making him audacious against enemies, and to vices timerous. And therefore Plato in his Phedro, compareth the minde of a man to a Chariot, whereof reason is the coach man, the affecti­ons of the mind the horses, & desire of honor the whip: The diuine Philosopher minding to inferre, that reason without honourable desire, and feare without reproch, are notable to bridle the most fierce passion, of the angry and concupiscent faculties, and to direct man to vertue. I will therefore ende­uour my selfe, most famous Queene, to discourse of Honor, seeing your highnesse so commaundeth me, although to my self I am not ignorāt, that so high & excellent a subiect, very [Page 79]farre exceedeth the power of my wit, hoping these valorous knights, most faithfull subiects to Honour, will be readie to supply my defects. Honour (excellent Queene) being aboue measure desired by mā, it is a thing manifest, that in the nū ­ber of humane goods, some be appertaining to the body, as beautie, health, strength, agilitie; and some to the minde, as vnderstanding, wisedome, knowledge, prudence, and arte, as also other goods there be externall belonging to fortune. Amidst these therefore, Honour, out of doubt, cannot bee numbred amongst those goods, that appertaine to the bodie or mind, but rather is accounted amongst them, in our selues not resident; as are likewise riches, principalitie, power, friendes, a faire and modest wife, children, nobility, and such like. Vniuersally therefore wee will affirme, that honour is the most precious of all goods externall. But because this word Honor signifieth not one alone, but two honors of di­uers nature in themselues, not beeing able to assigne such a definition, as wherein both may bee comprehended. I will diuide them; and one (as a new forger of these words) I will tearme naturall and imperfect; the other acquired honour, and perfect. By not conceiuing that honors are of two kinds, & diuers of themselues, & not one, al they which hitherto haue entreated of Honour, haue fallen into most manifest errors: and amongst other, the learned Bishop of Caserta, (prouided, if it bee true, that the booke of Honour, set forth vnder the name of Posseuiuo, were by him made, as of himselfe he affirmeth) is led into a most notable errour; For he in the same booke hauing defined honour, & wrong interpreted the fence of Aristotle, in his book of Rhetorike, after a long discourse, vpon the same, he groundeth his com­bate; not obseruing, that combate is wholly contrarie to the nature of that honor by him discussed and defined. At this time therefore, I not swaruing frō the order of nature, which is to go from the imperfect to the perfect, wil first intreat of honor naturall, and conclude in honor acquired: which is one of the principall circumstances of humane felicity. I say ther­fore [Page 80]that honor naturall, is a common opinion, that he hono­red, hath neuer failed in iustice, nor valor. I term it honor natural, because man bringeth it from his mothers wombe, and preserueth it vnspotted, except through some greeuous offence or suspition, he loose this good opinion. This was defined by Fausto Longiano in his Combate, to bee no other than an incorruptible state of Nature, as though to possesse this honor, it were sufficient to maintaine our selues, such as wee were borne. This is that honour (most excellent Queene) whereof there is so great fame, and wherein there is not any one, which professeth not himselfe to haue his part, as surely hee hath, though in no other respect, at loast yet in his mouth, in that hee will neyther say nor doe anye thing wythout the licence of honour, or except honour per­mit. This is that which giueth occasion euery day, of bralles, hatred, and rancours: and vppon which was grounded, in times past, wicked combate. I affirmed it to be an opinion, and not a science or knowledge: For science is grounded on trueth and necessity: Opinion vpon probability and acci­dent, For we may well haue an opinion, that one is an ho­nest man, but wee cannot affirme it, wythout vnderstand­ing so much, because externally he may be good, and in se­cret, wicked.

This opinion which is termed honour, is grounded vp­pon a secret supposition, that man is good, if there ap­peare nothing to the contrary; and notwythstanding this hath in it difficulty; especially for that which the Philoso­pher sayth, in the second of his Ethickes, that vertues and vices in a man, are neither naturall, nor against nature, and that good and wicked habite, not by nature, but by custom is acquired: notwythstanding by that which hee addeth in his sixt Booke, it seemeth this supposition may be graunted, because he affirmeth that man is borne with a certaine ver­tue, by meane of which, he seemeth apt to iustice, fortitude, and temperance, seeing in a man, by vertue of his mind, there are naturally some principall notes, by which we may wor­thily [Page 81]presume, that hee is rather good, then wicked: and I haue set downe these two parcels, that haue not failed in iu­stice nor valor, differing from other defects, for that God onely being immaculate and without fault, it is necessarie that man, accompanied with some imperfection, must of­fend, notwithstanding those sinnes are tollerable, which sometimes through humane fragilitie wee cannot but com­mit, and therefore the Philosopher in the seconde of his E­thikes sayth, that he cannot be termed vicious and wicked, which a little swarueth from comlinesse and honestie, min­ding to infer, that those sinnes, although they giue testimo­nie after a certaine manner, that wee haue not performed vertuous habite, yet are they not sufficient to make him loose his honour, but rather those, which are committed a­gainst iustice and fortitude. And that euerie one may the better vnderstand how honour is preserued and lost, I haue not thought it much from the purpose to declare, what it is to faile in Iustice, and what in Honour. To faile in Iustice therefore, is no other but to performe the things, which by good lawes are forbidden, and seuerely punished, to iniurie another against reason, and by sinister meanes, rashly to commit manslaughter, murther, theft, 'rapines, treasons, a­dulteries, and sinne against nature, to be an heretike, con­ceiuing sinisterly of God and diuine things, to practise vsu­ry, and to bee addicted vnto vnlawfull gaine: to bee a falfe witnesse, to the preiudice of the goods, life, or honor of another: finally, he is sayd to haue failed in Iustice, who hath extremely offended against any vertue, seeing that of Iustice vniuersally all things depende. To want va­lour is no other, but basely to carrie our selues in daungers, as that should bee, to abandon the colours, or battaile, by flying away, or else to leaue our friend and companion in daunger, not to hazard our liues for defence of religion, and of holy Christian Church, for his prince, for his countrie, for father, wife, children, and such like: as also hee manifesteth vilitie, who easily swalloweth in­iurie, [Page 82]without by his owne proper valour, shewing himselfe therewith mooued. And let this by mee spoken, suffice, to make knowne the nature of this honour: the which true lie may be termed imperfect Honour, in comparison of that by proper valour acquired. This Honour principally is inci­dent to beneficence (vnderstanding this word not onely for bountie or liberality, as many times wee doe, but as beeing derined of the Latine woords bene and facio, to doo well or good) it being the most excellent of all other vertuous ac­tions. And it is by the Philosopher, two manner of wayes defined, in the first booke of his Rhetorike, saying: Honor is a signe of beneficent opinion: and in the fourth of the E­thikes, Honour is the reward of vertue: the first definition hath respect rather to the honourer, then to the honoured, because it is a signe of opinion which the honourer hath, of the beneficent inclination of him honoured. The se­cond rather concerneth him honoured, then the honourer, in that it is a rewarde of vertue, which in him honoured is founde. Going about therefore to describe the Nature of this Honour, called by me Honour acquired, I will affirme, accepting both the one & the other of these definitious, that acquired honour is no other, then a reward, manifesting an action of beneficence, there being no action so famous, nor that maketh man more like to god, then to be beneficial, the which the ancients plainly shew, who esteemed their great benefactors worthy to be put into the number of the gods, consecrating vnto them temples, dedicating altares, erecting Statues, offering sacrifices, and such like honours, neither was Iupiter called by the Latines, the cheefe of the Gods for any other occasion, but because administring all things, he is the head Benefactour, as for the like reason by the Graecians hee was called [...] as it were Zon, which is as much to say as life, being he that giueth and preserueth life in al things of the world. But because this rewarde, which manifesteth action of beneficence, may be giuē more waies then one, the Philosopher in the first of his Rhetorike [Page 83]diuideth this honour into diuers parts, which notwithstan­ding I comprehend vnder these two heades: considering that of honours, some be permanent, and others not. Per­manent we call those, which after wee haue giuen them, remaine to the perpetuall honour of him honoured, as Sta­tues, Images, Temples, Altars, Sepulchers, Crownes, pub­like stipendes, hymnes and such like which cause, not only men to bee honoured, but also make them glorious, and are neuer attributed but to gods, and to men heroycall, who haue perfourmed great and publike benefites.

Honours not permanent, we tearme them, which after their performing, remaine not in action: and these by the Philosopher, are called, barbarous customes, and by vs much frequented, as to giue the place, to bow, to kisse the hand, the hemme of the vesture, the knee, the foote, put­ting off the hat, and such like: and these honours are not on­ly done to them, who haue bin beneficiall, but also to those, who either for their riches or vertue, are of power to be­nefite. Out of the definitions by me set downe, as also from that, we haue hetherto discoursed, it may easily be discerned, how different one honour, is from another; in that natural honour, may rather be saide to bee, a former disposition of true honour, that by valor is acquired, then honour abso­lute, and perfect: and therefore it hath the selfe same pro­portion, to true honour, as the facultie vegetatiue, hath with the sensatiue: for as vegetation may from sence bee seperate, and is of it selfe apt to bring foorth, one sorte of liuing creatures, as bee plants and fruites; so this ho­nour may stand, nay and for the most part is from the o­ther seperate; and yet be sufficient of it selfe to forme, an vnperfect sorte of men honoured, considering all those, who are iudged, not to haue failed in Iustice and va­lor, are called honourable: And as in the liuing crea­ture, the vertue vegetall, is first in nature and opera­tion before the sensatiue, being as it were a former dis­position vnto sence, so this honour, preceedeth euer, honor [Page 84]perfect, being vnto it a former disposition. And as the sen­sitiue facultie without the vegetatiue can not stand, so can there not be honour acquired, where there is not honor na­turall, conceiuing that he which is reputed a wicked man, is of any honor vnworthy. But moreouer, its a thing manifest, that this honor wheere of euery one maketh profession, is without labor acquired, in that man bringeth it from his mo­thers womb; but true honor is obtained, by excellent ende­uour and industrie, and by the selfe same means is preserued. Of honour naturall, it being grounded vppon contingent, as wel the bad as good may thereof be partakers. Of honor ac­quired, it being a manifest signe, and reward of vertue & her operations, only the man vertuous and excellent, is there of possessor. Naturall honor consisteth not in any exterior act, because in this the honorer performeth not, and the honou­red receiueth nothing: but perfect & true honor is knowne by exterior action; by reason in this the honorer, by reward­ing, giueth some signe thereof, as also the honoured, by re­ceiuing it: moreouer, honor naturally hath his contrary po­sitiue, which is infamy: and, honor acquired, his contrary pri­uatiue. And, to the end your Maiestie may vnderstand these philosophical termes, you shal be aduertised, that contraries positiue, be those, which haue both their reall beeing in the nature of things; but of cōtraries priuatiue, the one hath his reall being, and the other hath no existence at all, as for ex­ample sake: heat and cold, are contraries positiue, because in that subiect which is not hote, there is alwayes found colde; and where no colde is, heat hath there his reall being. Light and darkenesse be contraries priuatiue, because light onely hath his reall being, but darknes hath nothing in existence, as that which is no other, but the bare effence of light. Ther­fore honor naturall hath positiue contrary; for where hee is not, there is reall infamy: but honor, which is the reward of beneficence, hath his priuatiue; for where he appeareth not, yet infamy doth not there take place, or dishonor, but only his prination or absence. For one that hath neuer a statue e­rected [Page 85]to him, nor crowne giuen him, publike gifts, or magi­stracie, to whom no preeminence is giuen, or cappe moued, neither is by any such like obseruatiōs honored, shal not, for all this remayne infamous or dishonored, nor in question of honor can not be excepted against, but we will say, that he is only depriued of that honor which is the reward of benefi­cence, this being a part of humane felicitie. This is as much as I can or am able to deliuer (renowmed Queene) vpon this subiect of honor, wherein, if I haue bin deficient, let these o­ther honorable Knights pleade for me.

Stay a little Signior Gualinguo, answered the Queene, for ther is a skirmish prepared against you, wherin it shal great­ly help you, to be a good and well trained souldier. Then she commanded al those gentlmen, who were there present, that they would moue doubts, & contradict Gualinguo, in the ar­gument of honor, after the same methode, as the Gentle wo­men had done in the discussion of loue; and the Gentlemen beholding one an other with silence, as they who sitting round about, knew not from whome the beginning was ex­pected, the Queene smiling vppon the illustrous Lord Don Cesared Este, (who vnderstanding of the excellent discour­ses that passed in the chamber of the Countesse, withdraw­ing himselfe closely from the chase, was come in all haste with the Lord Marquesse, to finde out the company) made a signe vnto him, that he should mooue his doubt; and his most honorable Signiory, in whom, in his greene yeeres, a most bright beame of heroicall vertue doth shine, gratiously obeying the commaundement of the Queene, beganne in this maner.

You (O Knights) if I doe carry well in minde, haue grounded this opinion, which is termed Honour, vppon a secret supposition, that a man, if there appeare nothing to the contrary, is good. Which supposition I holde to bee very doubtfull: yea and further, that some notable signe of vertue not appearing, hee may bee coniectured rather a wicked than good man: considering that humane nature [Page 86]of it selfe, enclineth rather to vice than vertue. Which by this may be imagined, because the way of vertue is asprous, hard, and laborsom; so that as a thing myraculous, men point at him who arriueth to the end, and becommeth perfectly vertuous: and on the contrary, the way that conducteth to vice, is so easie, plaine, and pleasant, as the number of them is infinite which walke by it, and become vitious; this being a manifest signe, that naturally we are not enclined to vertue, but to vice: because things difficult, and that seldome hap­pen, are farre from the condition of nature. Experience furthermore sheweth, that wee rather encline to vice than vertue, in that there is none of vs (for what preuayleth it to lie) which in himselfe hath not triall, with howe great vio­lence he is drawne to vice, and howe hardly hee abstaineth from sensible contentments, how troublesome continence is vnto him, and patience bitter. Which being (as it is) true, so shall your supposition be false: for as all things hauing no impediment, do rather worke according to their inclinati­on, than against their nature, so must we presume not know­ing any other, that man for the most part, is rather wicked, than good: the which is confirmed, by the answer of Pytha­goras, who being demaunded, what was most true, made an­swer, that men are wicked. The supposition therefore be­ing false, so shall the opinion of an others valour, and iustice be vntrue; for the foundation failing, the building falleth downe; Notwithstanding I attend your answere. The rea­sons of your renowmed Segniory, answered Gualenguo, in­troduced against my supposition and opinion, are so preua­lent, as I may wel say the conclusion pleaseth me not a whit; for I know not well how to answer the argument: and cer­tainly our naturall fragillitie is such, as that it neuer ceaseth to make triall of occasion while it be brought in subiection vnto vice, neyther could diuine Paul effect, although he were diuinely illumined, but that he was driuen to say, I perceiue in my members, and flesh, an other lawe, repugnant to the lawe of my minde, which subdueth mee to the lawe of sin: [Page 87]Yet, notwithstanding all this, I am of opinion, that my sup­position is true, as also that man in his naturall estate, is in­clined to vertue, and not to vice, being good and not wicked: the which I hope with so liuely reasons to make manifest, as euery one shall bee out of doubt. I say therefore, that all things comprehended in this vniuersall frame, hauing their originall from God, as God is chiefe bountie and goodnes, so are all these partakers of this bountie, and therefore al are good in the first instant of nature. To affirme therefore, that man is wicked by nature, is no other but to auerre, that a­mongst all the creatures of the whole worlde, the sensi­ble image of the insensible God (for so is man) is wicked: a matter repugnant to trueth, and the authoritie, as wel of ho­ly diuines, as philosophers, who are of opinion, that in this inferior world, amongst all liuing creatures, only man may be vertuous and happy; and as fire should not be light, if of his nature he did incline to the centre, so a man should ney­ther be vertuous nor good, if naturally hee were inclined to vice. Furthermore, if Nature, the ministresse of God, dooth not onely generate, but guideth al things generated to their end, and therefore heauy things descend, and those light as­cend, as also beasts and liuing creatures, so soone as they are generate, by nature herselfe, they are directed to their end & perfection: how can it be, that man should only rest by her abandoned; and which is worse, not onely abandoned and contemned, but further instigated, to his ruine and imper­fection. Man by the beautiful gift of the mind is true man, who as he is diuine, so will wee affirme with the Poet, that; ‘Like to his Maker he, doth heauenly state retaine.’

And therefore hee desireth that onely which is best and diuine, neyther can hee, knowing the true and prin­cipall good, wish euill: by which reason the diuine Phi­losopher beeing mooued, subscribed to the opinion of the Stoickes, affirming in all his conclusions, that man is by nature good, and against nature wicked, and that hee as [Page 88]all other things is inclined to this end which is best: and the Philosopher sayth, that man is neuer wicked, but when he is affected against Nature, which commeth to passe, when in himselfe hee hath not ciuill gouernment, and that which should obey, commaundeth: which is sence, ouer reason. If wee shall also further consider, that man naturally is thir­sting after knowledge, as the Philosopher affirmeth in the Proemium of his diuine Philosophie, wee may easily iudge, that to vertue and not vice, hee is naturally disposed: for of vice there can be no science, it being nothing in existance, but otherwise a meere priuation, as affirmeth great Dionisi­us in the booke of Diuine Titles, and likewise the Acade­mikes, and Peripatetickes. If we therefore (most famous Lord) haue respect to the Creator of man, hee is his owne Image, if to the gift of Nature, he is most apt, if to the end of euerie thing created, man amongst mortall creatures is onely capable of cheefe good, hauing onely the vse of rea­son; and good consultation to him alone is proper: where­fore notwithstanding the reasous by your Segniory all ead­ged to the contrarie, wee must conclude, that naturally he is enclined to vertue, and not to vice: and that it is to be pre­sumed, that he is good, and not wicked. To which reasons, I being to make answer, we must consider, that in man three natures are comprehended, one common to al liuing crea­tures, which is vegetable: another common to creatures and man, and that is sence: the third common to man and things Diuine, and this is reasonable Nature. By the first, man is like to plants, by the second, to other li­uing creatures, by the thrid, he commeth to be true man, and a diuine creature, and therefore man by participation, is in the midst betwixt mortall and diuine: for in respect of body and sence, he partaketh of mortalitie, but touching his mind he is diuine and immortal: as in man these three natures are discouered, so finde we in him likewise, three natural incli­nations; one called properly naturall, and dependeth on the vnsatiable knowledge of vniuersall nature, which mooueth [Page 89]all things depriued of knowledge, to those operations, that may conduct them to their proper ends; and therefore this is not subiect to the internall vnderstanding of man, that is, to sence, and the mind, because she gouerneth, augmenteth, nourisheth, mooueth the pulses, the spirits, the hearts: and performeth such other like offices, without the consent of reason and wil: the second is called liuing Inclination, which is deriued from the knowledge of sence, and in a man is na­turally subiect to reason: the third is reasonable Inclinati­on, and taketh his originall from the knowledge of the minde: this in true man, naturally commaundeth ouer the inclination of sence.

These foundations beeing firme and reall, I gather twoo conclusions: the first, that man in the incorruptible state of his owne nature, is alwaies enclined to vertue, abhorring vice, following honest contentment, and auoydeth that dis­honest: the second is this, that man, as he is a creature con­ioyned with matter and sence, enclineth naturally to sensible contentments, and to vice accidentally: the first conclusion is cleare, by that which I haue before spoken. For man, produced from God, cannot bee but like to his begin­ning, & conceiuing by his proper nature, that honest good is the true and chiefest good, which consisteth in vertuous action, it is not possible that naturally he shuld will his con­trarie. The seconde is manifest by this: for anie man, how wicked soeuer, neuer doth euill in fauour of vice, but of contentment: the theefe therefore steales not to bee a theefe, but to possesse and enioy that whereof hee hath want, and the adulterer committeth not adulterie, to be ac­counted an adulterer, but this hee doth in fauour of lust, and venerous contentment, the which contentment if hee could attaine vnto without vice, it would be much more ac­ceptable and pleasing vnto him: for if a man should take contentment in vice, and not in vertue, true man should not taste in himselfe, the incredible contentation of vertuous action; which questionlesse is such, as maketh him blessed [Page 90]and happie. Neither should the miserable man bee so af­flicted by his owne conscience, the which without any o­ther helpe, bringeth vnto him most grieuous punishment. Man therefore runneth into vice accidentally, that is, by how much the more the vice is conioyned with excesse of pleasure or griefe. That vice is contrarie to the natu­rall inclination of man, it may be this reason bee prooued, because before the vice of intemperance, proceedeth that same semy-vice of incontinence, which is no other but a precedent battaile, that externall maketh with internall Man, bestiall with reasonable Nature: and except reason be made drunke, and subdued by sence, man falleth not into vice. This battaile out of question, should haue no place, if a man were naturally inclined to vice, for where there is naturall inclination, there can neither be fight nor resistance: and if any should obiect, that by the semi-vertue of continence, which preceedeth temperance, the contrarie may bee concluded: I answer, that in this there is speciall difference, because the incontinent after vitious action, re­penteth himselfe, and is daunted in minde, but the man continent after vertuous action, is merrie, and comforted: the one is tossed with trouble some thoughts: the other re­poseth himselfe with all quiet and tranquilitie, no other­wise then doth the earth, when after great violence, in the end shee vniteth her selfe to the Center, whether shee enclineth.

But moreouer, man more then of any other outwarde good, is desirous of honor, prayse, & glorie, he shunneth and abhorreth more then any other euill, dishonour, and infamie: acquiring therefore vnto himselfe, honour and prayse, by meane of vertue, but infamie and dishonour, by meane of vice: it is necessary, that man naturally shuld bend to vertue, and contemne vice: for it would be inconuenient to loue the effect, and hate the cause. But notwithstanding all this, it cannot bee denied, but the number of vitious, is infinite: and contrariwise of vertuous, the number to be so [Page 91]small, that good Diogenes seeking with a light in the day time amongst a multitude, could not find one: this procee­ding from no other, but because the way vnto vice is easie, and that vnto vertue hard and difficult. Of which, if we be desirous to search out the reason, wee must discouer a little further, and consider what maner of thing vertue is, as what is vice, and howe it may be sayde, that both the one and other habite is acquired. I say then, that vertue is no other, but an habite, imprinted in the sensible facultie by true and direct reason: by meane of which, that facultie ea­sily yeelding to reason, reduceth all his affections to medi­ocritie, and is conuersant either about pleasure or griefe: and vice is an habite imprinted in sence, by perueise reason, by whose meanes, declining from right and direct reason, it easily bursteth forth into heigth, & excesse of pleasure and griefe.

Although man (as I haue shewed) bee naturally in­clined to vertue, yet is he neither vertuous nor vitious by Nature, as wee haue said, but acquireth both the one and the other habite, by custome that is with frequent, and like rei­terated actions. Furthermore, we must obserue, that man is neither capable of vice nor vertue, before he be a perfect cre­ature & perfect man: vnto which perfection hee arriueth in the beginning of the fifteenth yeare of his age, for then hee is a perfect creature, beeing able to generate another like himselfe, and is perfect man, hauing the true vse of reason: but while that time, he liueth rather the life of euerie liuing creature, then of man, performing no one action with pree­lection, but ouer-guided with pleasure or anger, and there­fore as in that state, he cannot be either vitious or vertu­ous, so hee is not then woorthie of punishment, rewarde, praise, or reproach. Man therefore liuing first an irratio­nall, before a reasonable life, and aiming all his operations, to the contentment of sence, this by little and little, procu­reth in him a former disposition to vice, and contrary to ver­tue, so that wee may say with the Poet:

Whereupon, being necessarie for introducing vertuous ha­bite, to take away first wicked impression, and tame sence by little and little, which after the manner of an vntamed and euill customed Colt, neuer ceasing to spurne against reason: therefore the way of vertue is hard and vneasie, whereas contrariwise, that of vice is pleasing and readie. This other difficulty also offereth it selfe, that vertue is in the meane, and vice is that which mooueth it selfe from me­diocritie: one way onely directeth to vertue, but those that conduct to vice, are infinite, which is plainely shewed by the example of the Archer, for hee can hitte the white but one way only, but to misse it, there be waies infinite. Finally, from the small number of vertues, wee may assigne this reason: for as to exercise and performe a vitious habite, few things suffice, so to acquire and practise vertue, there bee ma­ny instruments, and circumstances necessarie. And first, li­berall birth, and good temperature of the bodie, is not of small importance: for vnderstanding not beeing able to worke, except stirred vppe by sence, as also sence cannot performe his dutie, if the members and body bee not well disposed, as good temperance aideth the sences, so doth it helpe vnderstanding: and from hence commeth it, that one man more then another, as the Philosopher affir­meth, seemeth borne to temperaunce, instice, and forti­tude: further then this, discipline and good education are so necessarie, that without these it is impossible, or at least verie hard, that a man should become vertuous: For in Children and boyes, the right vse of reason wanting, (being the Chariot of vertues) and they euer being by fol­ly surprised, it is requisite, that the right reason of fathers and mothers, should be that which should supply their de­fects, and by little and little inure them vnto vertue. The Philosopher vnderstanding well of how speciall importāce it was to a wel instituted commonwealth, liberally to beget [Page 93]and bring vp children well, hee concludeth the Treatise of his Politiks in procreation, and good education of children, teaching all those meanes and rules, which are necessary, for to dispose and assweat them vnto vertue: And Lycurgus the Spartane, amongst other his laws, made this one most whol­some and good, that to all actions of boyes, their Maisters should be assistant, who had an eye, that euen in their pa­stimes children should not commit any vniust acte; holding this for a firme conclusion, that of wicked children sprung vitious young men; and of youth vitious, men impious, as also of flagitious men, olde ribawdes: and to this conclusion consenteth the diuine philosopher, in the sixt of his com­mon-wealth; and Aristotle in the first of his Politickes, and sixt of his Moralles, they affirming that a man euill brought vp, prooueth worse than any wilde beast. Riches also is of great moment, to the acquiring and practising of vertue, for as it is harde without wealth to apply our selues to liberall Artes, so is it likewise difficult where pouertie is, that there should be good education, and consequently, vertus. For worldly want, is the mother of Arts moechanicall, & wealth of Artes liberall, and of noble and vertuous actions. It being therefore necessary, that these three things should concurre together, to the attaining of vertue, that is, temperature, good education, and riches, it being difficult in one man, to find these three vnited, of necessitie (most famous Lorde) the vertuous must be few, & vitious many in number. Wher­fore then, replied Don Caesar, may we not suppose, that man is rather in the number of many wicked, than of a few good, especially beeing so hard and difficult to prooue good and vertuous.

Because euery thing, if it be not hindered, continually worketh, rather according to the inclination of his speciall forme, than generall, answered Gualenguo, and reasonable nature, beeing the speciall forme of man, by which from other creatures hee is different, and irrationall condition, his forme generall, wee must suppose, not knowing to the [Page 94]contrarie, that hee worketh rather according to reason, then beastial [...]e, for notwithstanding the contrarie, ma­ny times happeneth, this is not by the proper nature of man, but because matter and sence make resistance. Ther­fore of beeing more men vitious then vertuous, the same reason may bee asssigned, which Signior Patritio the other day alleadged, from the greater number of deformed, then beautifull: For as in forming corporall beautie, mat­ter resisting Ideall reason, procureth, that Nature, often­times, against her intention, giueth deformitie, so in fra­ming vertue which is the proper beautie of the minde, mat­ter making resistance to Ideal humane reason, is a cause, that shee against her intention many times, runneth into vice, being the true deformitie of the minde.

The most noble Lord Don Caesar, without any further motion, shewed himselfe herewith to bee satisfied. And Signior Caualier Bernieri who sate hard by him, doubted af­ter this manner: If the priuate supposition of another mans valor and bountie, were true, this inconuenience would en­sue, that an insolent fellow, whose flagitions were concea­led, might bee an honourable man, and yet (if the Philo­sopher in his Ethickes, be worthie of credit) honor agreeth not but with an honest man. When soeuer a man (answe­red Gualinguo) committeth a malificence, suddenly of him­selfe he falleth into the penaltie of infamie. Yet doth he delaie his punishment, so much the longer, by how much the slower he is in reuealing his offence. A wicked man therefore, though of himselfe he bee vnworthy, may yet bee honourable, because hee looseth not that inward sup­position of his being good, except hee make it euident and manifest, that he hath failed in Iustice, or valor: And this is no greater inconuenience, then is that, when a theefe by the law is not punished, his offence beeing con­cealed.

Touching the authority of the Philosopher, it is true that the honest man is only worthy of honor, yet this is no hin­drance [Page 95]but that one flagitious may be therof na vnworthy possessor. Put the case, replied the Knight, that one had cō ­mitted a flagition, or performed some villanie, of which, only one or twoo had notice; shall this man therefore bee infa­mous? Cleauing to our foundations layde, sayde Gualenguo this man shal be dishonorable, and infamous, mary not with all men, but onelie with those, who shall be acquainted with this malefact. This woulde bee a maruellous inconuenience, obiected Bernieri, because it woulde followe, that in one instant time, the same man shoulde bee honourable, and infamous. It woulde bee inconuenient, answered Cua­lenguo, whenas at the selfe-same time, and for the like re­spect, he were honourable and infamous, but being in di­ners considerations, it is not onely, no inconuenience, but moreouer necessary, because they to whome the offence is knowne, loose the good opinion they had of him; and they thereof ignorant, reserue it muiolate, while hee maketh manifestation thereof. And this is one of the principal­lest imperfections, that this our houour hath annexed vnto it, in that an vnworthie man may easily bee partaker of it, which to perfect honour is not incident. Bernieri replied no further, and the noble Signior Aldarano Marquesse of Carara, a Lord adorned with most noble customes, and of good Letters, very studious, propounded his doubt, the which was, Whether that an honest man might bee infa­mous.

When Gualenguo: There is no doubt (noble Lorde) but an honest man, eyther through false calumniation, or vppon presumption of maleficence, may loose the good opinion, the worlde hadde of him; which hauing lost, he falleth into infamy. But this is a great inconuenience, repli­ed the Marquesse, that he who neuer failed in iustice, nor valor, may be infamous.

The nature of this honor, is subiect to these & such like in­conueniences, answered Gualenguo, yet is it a thing very dif­ficult, that an honest man shuld lose his honor, as also it is not [Page 96]a thing so easie, that a man wicked should auoyd infamie, for time in the end discouereth truth. Notwithstāding somtimes it may happē, that an honest man, may enter into a bad fame, yet must he endeuor in all his actions, not only to be blame­lesse, but also free from all suspition of offence, hauing al­wayes his eyes open, that hee giue no occasion of scandale, or presumption to the worlde to iudge euil; for the enuious and malignant take occasion of euery probabilitie, to staine the honor of an honest man.

The Marquesse was satisfied with this answere, and the Count of Scandiano, a most valorous Knight: Mee thinkes sayd he, that you, sir Knight, haue very vniustly placed the adulterer in the number of men dishonored, bicause custome is contrary; seeing that men, are not onely, not ashamed to commit adultery, but as of an enterprise honourable, they haue no sooner performed it, as that therof they vawnt, and make great boast: ney ther is it intended, that any one should euer be refused, in comparison of honour; for being an adul­terer, notwithstanding that of these, the number be infinite. I am desirous therefore, that you would giue me to vnder­stand, how it may be, that an adulterer should be infamous. A man, answered the Knight, committeth adultery in two sortes, in one, when he being bound, falsifieth the oth of ma­trimony, frequenting with a loose woman. And in this, al­though he be worthy of some blame, yet looseth he not his honour, because he iniurieth none but his owne wife: in the other, when married or vnbound, he vseth the company of a woman married. And this man remaineth dishonoured, be­cause he finneth extreamely against the vertue of Tempe­rance, and faileth in iustice, hee beeing a greeuous iniurier or destroyer of an other mans honour; the which (as I haue saide) of all other goods externall, is the most pretious: and therfore deseruedly by the lawes, is there imposed on adul­tery a greater penalty, than on theft, because the adulterer endamnifieth in honor, and theft but in goodes. And al­though men, through euill custome, are not ashamed to be e­steemed [Page 97]for adulterers, yet is this no obstacle, but that they are worthy of infamy: or that in combate they may not be ex­cepted against, when by men honest, it shal be obiected vnto them, as well as theeues. Seeing a man, replied the Count, loo­seth not his honour, but when hee conuerseth with a married woman, I would willingly vnderstand, if the like happeneth to a woman, which is, that she shall not forgo her honor, but when she ioyneth with one married: for in my iudgement, a womans condition, in this should not be worse than a mans. A woman, sayde Gualenguo, as in many other things, so in this, is of harder condition than a man: first, in that if she be maried, with her owne, shee also staineth the honour of her husband: secondarily, for that she being (as the Philosopher affirmeth) by reason subiect to man, committeth the greater iniury; con­sidering that the iniurie is greater, of an inferiour towardes his superior, than of a superior towardes an inferior: thirdly, because shee may bring into her house other mens children, dispossessing the proper childrē of her husband, of his goods: fourthly, for that a woman, offendeth extreamely against her owne proper and principall vertue, which is honestie. A wo­man therfore cannot after this maner, accompany with others than her husband, reseruing still her honour, but thus dooing, shee incurreth infamie. Scandiano seemed to bee well resol­ued.

When Counte Guido Calcagnino, moued this question. You saide, that he, who flying, abandoneth his colors, forgoeth his honor: I further desire to know, Whether a valiant souldier, seeing all others forsake the colors, may with honor flie, and remoue himselfe from daunger: or ought, for maintenance of his honour, to remaine dead by his auntient or colours. And Gualenguo: according to the lawe of Lycurgus, and of the va­liant Spartanes, the souldier should bee bound rather to die than abandon his ensigne for any accident whatsoeuer; and therefore the seuere and rigorous mother was wont to deli­uer vnto her sonne, that went to battell, his shield with these words, Eyther with this, or in this: giuing him to vnderstand [Page 98]thereby, that either he shuld returne victorious, or remaine dead: I am notwithstanding of opinion, that when an hono­rable man hath performed his duty in fighting, and yet for all this, seeth all the other souldiours betake themselues to flight, and knoweth himselfe not able to resist the force of the enemies; such an one retiring himselfe into safety, loo­seth not his honor, but rather, they that first fled remaine dishonored. If one, replied Calcagnino, should abandon his friend or companion, in danger, esteeming himselfe not suf­ficient to defend him, by reason of inequalitie in number, should he in this case loose his honor? If his friend, answered Gualenguo, with armes in hand turned himselfe to defence, and he on the contrary made away, there is no question but he should loose his honour, neyther would the excuse of in­equalitie help him a whit, for the valiant man is not daunted in sodaine daunger, but the slaue and villaine. I would not haue thought, added the Count, that a man had beene tyed to do more than hee can, but that rather, he had bin rash and heady, which esteemeth too much of his owne force, as one should be, who to saue his friend, did fight against ten men seueral. And Gualinguo: he that without any other necessitie should make choise to fight at one instant against ten, shuld certainly be rather presumptuous than valiant; but an hono­rable man beeing in company with his friend, ought not to forsake him, though he sawe himselfe incountred by ten se­ueral swords, but must rather feare the losse of honor, than of his life. By the selfesame reason, replied Calcagnino, whosoe­uer were in battel, he ought to stand, though all the restsled.

The case is much different, sayd Gualinguo, because he in the field withdrawing himselfe from danger, and other men flying, doth not abandon, but is abandoned; whereas contra­riwise, one that leaueth his friend in daunger, is he that for­saketh, and is not left, or abandoned: wherefore he commeth to faile in valour, and manifesting, that hee esteemeth more his life, than his honor, hee remaineth infamous. Calcagnino held his peace, and Counnt Palla Strozza a most valiant soul­dier, [Page 99]doubted after this maner: You haue placed him amon­gest men dishonourable, who with his proper valour, makes no shew of being touched with an iniurie: Put the case one were iustly iniuried, should he, to auoyde the losse of honor, manifest himselfe therewith prouoked? Out of doubt hee ought, answered Gualinguo, and if he knowing himselfe to be in the wrong, replied Strozza, should offend him iniurying, failed he not in iustice, and so consequently, should hee not loose his honor, this honour being principally grounded vp­on the opinion of the world? Gualenguo returned: A man, how good or wicked soeuer hee bee, must respect none o­ther thing, but to preserue this opinion, if hee desire to be an honorable man: For honour perisheth not before this opinion be lost; and opinion cannot be lost before some de­fect be manifestand made knowne: the iniuried therefore, notwithstanding he knoweth himself to be iustly offended, must labour that the worlde haue no notice of it; and this hee shall do, by reuenging the iniurie in proper valor: for by not failing in volour, his defect in iustice shalbe concealed: but on the contrary, if he shal beare the iniury, not to commit an vniust fact, the world wil iudge, that hauing wanted valour, he also failed in iustice: and that therefore he is woorthy of iniurie and contempt.

By this your conclusion, added Strozzi, a great inconue­nience would follow: that one to auoide the losse of honor, ought to maintaine an vniust quarrell, a thing not appro­ued by any of these, who haue intreated of honor and com­bate; they holding it for sure, that to fight hauing the wrong on our side, is no other but to prouoke the iust iudgement God, in that by many experiences it is wel known, that they who haue maintained the wrong, haue either beene slaine, or vanquished by their enemie, although he in force were in­ferior vnto them: where vpon they affirme, that he which ac­knowledgeth his offence & requireth pardon, is lesse disho­norable then he, that moued by a diabolical spirit, obstinate­ly seeketh to couer it within the listes. All they answered [Page 100] Gualinguo, which hetherto haue written of honor and com­bate, are fallen into manifest errours, by not hauing entire­ly knowen, the nature of this honour: for maintenance whereof, there is euery day braules, and wherevppon com­bate is grounded: for then amongst other things, they would not haue saide, that an honorable man ought not to maintaine an vniust quarell, for preseruation of his honor: and notwithstanding what they said, is conformable to a Christian, who neuer ought to enter into an action, which offendeth God: yet for al this, it is not conuenient for them, who value the honor of the worlde: for such like men desi­ring to be honored, must indeuour by right and wrong, not to lose that opinion, and supposition wherewith they are borne, but questionlesse this is as oftentimes lost, as a man manifesteth to the world, that he hath failed in iustice or va­lor. And how can it be, further vrged Strozza, that an ho­nest man going against his own conscience, should main­taine an vniust quarell? An honest man, saide Gualinguo, can neuer maintaine an vniust quarell, for reason will euer with him be at hand, but an honorable man may well fight being in wrong, to auoide the losse of honor. Then an ho­nest man, & an honorable man, be not all one, added Stroz­zi: and Gualinguo: By the foundations I laide, it may bee cleare vnto you, that an honest man, and an honorable, bee not the selfe same things: and in this they haue beene decei­ued, that write in the argument of honor and combate: for it may bee, that an honorable man, shall not likewise be ho­nest; as also that one may be a man honest, and not honora­ble, as wee haue sufficiently declared. What intend you by a man honorable? saide Strozzi: By a man of honor, answe­red Gualinguo, I meane all those whatsoeuer they bee, good or wicked, who haue not lost the good opinion that the worlde conceiued of them.

Therefore I conclude, that an honorable man, is tyed in right or wrong by his own proper valor, to repell an iniury, and also to maintaine an vniust quarell, lest he remaine dis­honored. [Page 101] Strozzi saide no more. And although this positi­on, at the first appearance, seemed to all the standers by, a paradox, yet was it by the greater part of the Gentlemen approoued for most true. When Count Hercules Beuelac­qua, vnto whom by order it belonged to propound; seeing honor, saide he, is both in right and wrong to be maintai­ned, I would willingly vnderstand, if an honorable man, after he hath valiantly fought within the listes, and brought to that point, as he cannot longer defend himselfe, ought rather to yeeld, then permit, that his enimie kill him. This, answered Gualinguo, is not a doubt of small importance: and the opinions of famous and learned men be in this point di­uers: the greater part affirming, that the combatant ought rather to die, then yeeld: for in any case, a man of honor shuld alwaies preferre death, before infamous safetie. And this the Philosopher testifieth in the 3 of his morals saying, A valiant man ought much more to feare infamy then death: and also in another place of his Morals. that an honourable man, should rather choose a short life honourable, then a life long, but contumelious. And vpon this foundation, the Stoikes in some cases, permitted the violent killing of ones selfe, to auoyde a dishonorable life. As also the Lacedemo­nians, who in fortitude and warlike valor, excelled alother Grecians, commaunded their souldiers that they should ne­uer yeeld, they holding it for certaine, that they which died with weapon in hand, might rather be esteemed slaine, then subdued: & therefore their great captain Leonidas, who with three hundred souldiers, defended Thermopolis against the innumerable armie of Xerxes, was not ouercome, but killed, neither were the three hundred Fabians vanquished, but slaine. Diuine Plato esteemed it so contamelious a thing, to yeeld, as that in his commonwealth he ordained, that there should be no redemption for him that yeelded, but that hee might bee set as a prey to the enemy: and in the twelfe of his lawes, he made one most seuere, against those, who in ba­taile surrendred themselues, as varquished, affirming, that [Page 102]free men should more feare to bee made slaues, then haue any dreade of death it selfe. He therefore that yeeldeth within the lists to his enemie, remaining his slaue, and de­priued of honour, whereas being killed, he may rather be ac­counted slaine, then subdued: it seemeth, that brought to that necessity, he ought rather to endure death, thē euer to yeeld himself, yet for al this, I hold the cōtrarie opinion to be true, & I am moued by this firme foundation: For in Combat, the cause is no lesse lost by death, then by submissiō; but betwixt submission and death there is this difference: that he who yeeldeth, looseth onely his honour, but the other remaining dead, looseth both honour, life, and that is worse, his owne soule: neither will any denie me, but that hee had rather choose one alone, then all these three euilles togither, and no man is bound to do more then his force wil extendvnto. Whereas it is a rash part, and altogither aduerse to nature and humane conditiō, for no benefit to suffer death, without ob­taining by the same any thing honest: I will further af­firme, that hee which in the Lists hath not failed in valour, although vrged by necessitie hee yeeldeth himselfe, hee re­maineth not wholly dishonoured: nay and sometimes it hap­peneth that the vanquished, with men of vnderstanding, re­taineth a better opinion then the victor, in that the vertue of the mind, is knowne rather in aduerse then prosperous for­tune, and a man giueth testimony of himselfe, and his valor in blood, wounds, and eminent danger of death. Finally, I will further alleadge, that a man not beeing borne so much for himselfe, as for his Country, ought not without vrgent necessity, to depriue his country of a valiant champion. The reasons alleadged to the contrary are true. Supposing with the Philosopher, (which is false) that chiefe good cannot be without worldly honor; but because they are grounded on a supposition diuers from ours, they no waie preiudice our po­sition: For they suppose, that with an honorable death, a mā shunneth infamy, & that his former life remaineth vnspot­ted, but if I imagin the ruth, his whol life past remaineth no lesse infamous by death, then by yeelding himselfe, because [Page 103]he which dieth, be he defendāt or assailant, resteth in opiniō to haue failed, either in iustice or valor, & consequētly is dis­honored. This opinion of Gualinguos, was confirmed by the greater part of the gentlmē, & those in points of honor most iudiciall: when the illustrous Signior Hippolito Bentiuogli: if I carry well in minde, the Philosopher affirmeth in his Rethoricke, that nor only hee which offendeth our selues, offereth vs iniurie, but also he who wrongeth those thinges belonging to vs: as our father, son, brother, frend, or such like, I would know, if in point of honor we are bound to reuenge such an iniurie. When Gualinguo: that such an iniurie should tie vs to reuenge, it is requisite there depend vppon it these conditions; first, that it be performed in contempt of vs, & through no manifest fault of him offended; further, that he iniuried, be impotent, for if he were sufficient to reuenge of himselfe, by taking vpon him the burden of his honor, hee should come to dishonour himselfe; therefore the Father is not tied to reuenge the iniury of his strong & able childe, as neither the Sonne his Fathers wrong, when of himselfe he is sufficient to answer the offender: and to conclude, the strong & mightie, standeth bound to answer for the weake, and impotent, considering the iniurie is done in despight of him, that can reuēge himself, when it is not offred throgh a­ny manifest fault of him offended: for otherwise to reuenge his cause who is iustly offended, were no other, but to faile in iustice, & therfore I say by manifest fault, because if it were secret, he is by al means to endeuor to keep it close, that hee offended rest not infamous. Cōsidering that we are, not on­ly bound to protect our selues, but also the honor of thē that belong to vs. Bentiuoglie was satisfied, & count Alfonso Turchie You, if I vnderstood well, said he, haue recounted heresie a­mong those defects that depriue of honor, and this, in my o­pinion, hath in it some difficulty, seeing honor & dishonor agree with action, & not with opiniō, & sin or maleficence, as the Philosopher affirmeth, in the sixt of his Ethikes, is not properly of knowledge, nor of opinion, and it is cleare, that heresy is no other but an opiniō, which thogh it be false [Page 104]yet shall not hee herewith possessed, rest infamous, and the reason is readie, made by the same Philoso­pher in the third of his Ethikes: for honour, dishonor, re­ward, and punishment, follow those actions that depend on free will, and are in our power, but the sin of heresie is not in our power, seeing we cannot enter into what opinion wee would, but are inforced to beleeue what the minde iudgeth to be true, or like to truth.

Although heresie (answered Gualinguo) as it it is an opini­on, can neither giue nor take away honor: notwithstanding in as much as it is a beginning to work against holy laws, & Catholike decrees, it maketh a man more then all other sinnes, infamous, when either by tongue, or exterior actiōs she commeth to manifest her selfe. Distinguishing there­fore, I affirme that heretikes are of two sorts: the one secret, who neither with words nor deeds, discouer their Heresie: and these, though they loose the fauour of God, yet do they not forgoe their honour, for the reasons aboue cited: The other kind be manifest, which impudently striue against the lawes and institutions of holy Christian Church: & fur­ther, seeke to drawe this and that man into their peruerse opinion, by scandalizing the world, and therefore loose their honour, they being held in the opinion of the world, to haue failed in iustice, and to be most notable destroyers of soules health, the which of honest men ought to be pre­ferred before all other goods. Vndoubtedly sayd Count Alfonso, these sorts of men, are not onely worthie of eter­nall infamie, and in comparison of honour to bee excepted against, but for chasticement, are right woorthie of the fire. I am also in doubt, saide Scipion Sacrati, neither can I see, how it may be, that an vsurer should loose his honour; as also I cannot perceiue, in what respect hee faileth in iu­stice or valour: but I call to minde a Dialogue of a great learned man, wherein he prooueth, that vsurie is necessarie to liue well and happily. It is necessarie, answered Gualin­guo, that husbandmen should be great vsurers, as Ʋirgill tea­cheth, [Page 105]and that they should labour, that the earth may render an hundred for one, and after this manner doth lear­ned Spocone entend it in his dialogue: but the vsurer whom I place among men dishonored, is not such a one: but rather one that is vniust, and who practiseth against good lawes, seeking vnlawfull gaine, and vsing monye contrarie to his proper nature. And wherefore against his proper nature, replied Sacrati? Because, answered Gualinguo, mony by the law, was to no other ende found out, but to make contracts equall, in the exchange of things, wherevpon he that vseth it without any change, imploieth it contrarie to his nature, and against the ordinance of the law: But such a one is the vsurer, because he changeth not his mony for commoditie, but mony immediatly for mony, and therefore vsurie by the Grecians was tearmed Focos, which signifieth one begottē; for as the childe is like him that begot him, so mony imploi­ed by the vsurer, is like the mony, which without any per­mutatiō, but only with the benefit of time, it bringeth forth. The vsurer deseruedly therefore is put in the number of those infamous, because by an euill meane, he wasteth o­ther mens goods. Sacrati said no more: When Count Her­eule Tassone: seeing honor is lost by failing in iustice, or va­lor, I would furder vnderstand, whether of these two de­fects deeplyer wound honor. Questionlesse honour cannot be lost but in defect of Iustice, answered Gualinguo, neither doth want of valor, touch honor in any other respect, but be­cause with such a defect, there is annexed iniustice, or the caracter thereof. I vnderstand you not after my minde, saide Tassone: and Gualinguo: He which through vilitie hazardeth not his life, for Religion, his Countrie, Prince, and Friends, cōmitteth an vniust fact: for a man not being borne to him­selfe, but for all these, defraudeth his Countrie, Prince, Re­ligion, and Friends, of that which is their proper good: and therefore as vniust hee is worthy of infamie: hee likewise, that is not moued with an iniurie, besides that he infringeth the lawe of Nature, which permitteth euery one to repell [Page 106]force with force, he carrieth also with him the caracter of in­iustice. And how cā this be, replied Tassone, if to suffer iniury as the Philosopher affirmeth, is free frō vice, & to offer it, is vitious & vniust. The Philosopher saith wel, answered Gua­linguo, but yet this taketh not away my positiō, for thogh the suffring of iniurie be without vice, yet giueth it some testi­monie of vice in the patiēt, for that by this act of supporting iniury, he sheweth himself worthie of contempt, and conse­quently, vniust, and wicked; for only the wicked man is wor­thy to be ignominious. Seeing honor is not lost, added Tas­sone, but through want of iustice, and defect of valor is a kind of iniustice, this word Valor, in the definition of honor, see­meth to be superfluous. The common sort, said Gualinguo, not knowing, that iustice comprehendeth al vertues, & iniustice al vices, and ordinarily distinguishing between base actions, and those of iniustice, to make men learned, as also vnlear­ned, conceiue the nature of this our honor: the word valor is not only not superfluous, but necessary, and so much the more, by reason common opinion holdeth base & coward­ly men, more infamous then those vniust: and in euery one, want of valor is more obserued, then that of iustice.

Nay, said Count Hercules, the abuse is growne so far, as all men valiant of person are esteemed honest men, although in the rest they be most dissolute. This hapneth answered Gua­linguo, because the common sort, which know not the inward vertues of the mind, measureth the goodnes and valor of a man, from the force of his body, & not from the power of his mind, little obseruing, that as man by the vertue of the mind, exceedeth the creatures, so in strength of body, by many beasts he is excelled. Tassone said nothing else, but count Her­cules Mosti obiected: tel me sir knight, if this our honor once lost, may be recouered again. Let euerie one take heed, said Gualinguo, of loosing his honor, for being once iustly lost, it can neuer be recouered: and I said iustly, because lost other­wise, it may rather be termed honour suspended then lost, as it happeneth to those honest men, who by false suggestions [Page 107]enter into the euill opinion of the world, seeing it may come to passe, that time in the ende discouering the trueth, they may recouer their good name. You impose too seuere a law vpon honor. Signior Gualinguo, replied Count Hercules, in that it onely being once lost, you giue out, it cannot be re­couered: for my part, I iudge it scarce reasonable, that one bad action cannot by many other good be recompensed, for this is no other, but to bring an offender into extreame de­speration: by which meane honour, that in a man ought to be the principall cause of doing well, would be an occasion for him to multiplie his flagitions, without euer reforming them. By my definition of honour deliuered, you should bee out of doubt (answered Gualinguo) that honour iustly lost, cannot be recouered. For if it be true that honour is a firme opinion in him that honoureth, that he honoured hath ne­u [...] led in iustice nor valor: one that hath only failed once, & is known for the man, cannot come within the compasse of this definitiō, because then it should not be conuertible with the defirite, and would be no other, but as if we should as­cribe a reasonable soule to an asse. But if men, added Mosti, should turne to haue as good an opinion of such an one, as at the first, might he not, recouering the priuiledge of honour, come within this definition? If we should grant, said Gua­linguo, that an asse had winges, we might conclude, that hee were a birde and fowle, therfore I say vnto you, that this case in him can hardly be admitted, who hath iustly lost his ho­nor, because they who haue notice of his defect, althogh they would, yet could they not of such an one retaine so good an opinion, as at the first, if they lost not also theyr owne memories, the which is hard, or at least verie difficult. For men for the most parte, being enuious and maleuolent, they are vnmindfull of vertuous actions, keeping them close, but they reserue fresh in memorie another mans mis­deedes, and continually with their tongues blaze it abroad: and touching this seuere and strict law of honor, I say it is se­uere, but yet iust, and likewise those lawes be iust, though [Page 108]austere, that cut off the liues of malefactors, or their mēbers, the which things, though they be irrecouerable, yet cannot these chasticements hold malefactors in: but if the feare of losse were recompenced with the hope of recouerie, who seeth not how great the number of wicked men would bee, and of those ready to worke mischiefe.

The law of honor then, is the cause of wel doing, & not of multiplying flagition, because the greater sort of men hold their honor so deare, as that they dare not do euill, for feare of the losse therof, knowing that it once only being lost, can neuer be recouered. But for al this, I do not affirme, that a mā who hath ceased the honor of the world, should vppon this multiply in flagitions, without euer reforming himselfe, but rather the cōtrary, that a mā after the recouery of the former good opinion, cannot do better, then manifest to the world in all his actiōs ensuing, that he is penitēt & turned to a better life: for though it may wel be, that he shall hardly be able to returne to his first degree of honor, yet he may become a good man, & shun continuall reproach. And how should it come to passe, replied Mosti, that proouing a good man, he should not likewise become honourable: I pray you tell me, is not an honest man worthy of honor? If you deny this, you frame a paradox against the Philosopher, who affirme, that onely the honest man is woorthy of honour. An honest man, answered Gualinguo, is two maner of wayes vnderstood: One is, he that neuer crackt his credit, but is wel knowne for such an one, and this man is truely worthy of honor, and de­seruedly honored: The other is he, who hauing once or twice failed, and knowne for such an one, in the end amendeth, and becommeth good; this man is not absolutely woorthy of ho­nor, neither can he be counted honorable, but only in com­parison of a man impious. Count Hercules was content with this last distinction: when Count Gherardo Beuelacqui, I saw saide he, in the booke of Posseuiuo, intituled, of Honour, a­mongst many other, this one notable disputation, whether honor consisteth in the honorer, or him honoured, and not­withstanding [Page 109]he greatly laboreth to ressolue this difficultie, yet my conceit was not therewith satisfied; for by one rea­son it seemes to haue residence in the honorer, seeing in him is placed that opinion, which you auerre to be honor. On the other side, it appeareth rather to be in him honored, see­ing he giueth denomination to the subiect, and that as milke for the whitenesse is in it, commeth to be tearmed white, so the honored is so called, for the honor in himselfe vnder­stoode: I desire therefore to heare you vpon this poynt.

This doubt, answered Gualinguo, hath giuen diuers occasi­on of discussion, and especially Posseuiuo, but because what he saith, nothing toucheth this honor whereof we intreat, but rather that which is acquired by beneficence, we wil leaue it apart: therefore standing on the foundation of our naturall honor, we must obserue, that a mā supposed good, if nothing appeere to the contrary, honor proceedeth from the appa­rant image of the vertue of the honoured, imprinted in the fantasie of the honorer: and because good opinion is the pro­per essence of honor, we will say, that honor essentially is in the honorer, & in the honored vertually (to vse these terms) essentially in the honorer, bicause in him remaineth the opi­nion; vertually in the honored, for that in him is the hidden vertue, which of it selfe causeth imagination in the fantasie of the honorer, procuring opinion. This answer well plea­sed Count Gherardo, and replying no further, Signior Her­cole Gilioli: There riseth in my mind a doubt, sayd he, which springeth from that before you affirmed, man to bring with him this honor, from his mothers wombe: If this be true, I cannot see how honor should essentially be in the honored, seeing hee enioyeth it not from his birth, and if in him it bee essentially, how can it be recounted amongst goodes exter­nall? Man, as I haue saide, answered Gua. bringeth with him honor frō his mothers womb, because he is borne with that inward supposition, that he is good, neither is it requisit, that to preserue this supposition, he labour greatly, in that it suf­ficeth only, he neuer extremely offend against any principal [Page 110]vertue. And for that of this supposition, in the end groweth opinion, in him honouring, which is honor, therefore it is saide to be essentially in the honourer. Yet is not to him as his owne, but as a thing appropriate to the honored. I af­firme therefore, that notwithstanding the honored is borne with possession of honor, yet makes not this, that in him ho­nor should essentially be: for if that were true, we might con­clude, that riches likewise were essentially in the wealthy man, seeing he is borne to possession of them, and that they were not to bee placed amongst goodes externall. Signior Hercules held his peace, and the Lord Caesar Brancaccio whom now it concerned to propound, musing alitle with himselfe: Me thinkes, saide he, that this our honor, (and ours I call it, seeing Nature and Fortune offereth vnto vs, without our in­dustrie) giueth occasion of doubt in this, I not hauing hi­therto heard any one question propounded, pertaining to that true honor, which by vertue and valour is obtained, as though the Knight had so amply entreated, as that nothing remayned whereof you might doubt; I notwithstanding am not altogether satisfied: for if it be true, that this honor is a reward that sheweth and exalteth the woorke of beneficence, and that not onely those are honored, who haue persormed benefites, but he also is esteemed, that is likely to be benefici­all, this inconuenience insueth, that a wicked fellow, who ey­ther hath, or is likely to benefit, may be worthy of honor, as on the contrary, an honest man vnworthy, bicause he neither hath, and is altogether vnable to performe any benefit. The man wicked, said Gualinguo, can in no sort be woorthy of ho­nor, although he either hath, or may performe a benefite, al­ways prouided, that he be knowne for flagitious: first, in that he depriued of naturall honor, is incapable of any other: se­condly, because the woorke of beneficence simply sufficeth not, to make one worthy of honor, being requisite, that such an action should be perfourmed by an honest man, and to no other end: for he that should place a benefit to thend to reap therof gaine or delight, such an one should not be worthy of [Page 111]honor, neither could he be thought ingrate, that were vn­mindful of such a benefit, or should not therof make any de­monstration; but an honest man & so knowne, doing benefit, is worthy of honor, because he is beneficiall to no other but an honest end: neither can any be vertuous or good, which is not apt to performe benefites. If a vertuous man, replied Brancaccio were in calamitie or pouerty, how could he be be­neficiall? And Gual: The means of benefiting be diners: for we may do good to the body, to the soule, by good examples setting forth morall vertues and knowledge, or with phisick procuring health to the body: Finally, as it cannot chuse, but the Sun must needes heate and illuminate, so is it impossible, that a vertuous and good man should not be beneficiall, and consequently, vnworthy of honor.

If they, added Brancaccio, that for profit, benefite, and not for honestie were not worthy of honour, the Doctours that reade publikly, the Physitions that administer health to the body, aduocates that defend goods and titles, and other like vertuous men, who notwithstanding do great good, should be vnworthily honored: seeing all these practise their ver­tue for profite. And Gualinguo: If these were principally moued by profit, aod not honesty, out of all doubt they could not be worthy of honor, but if practising for honestie, toge­ther they attaine profite, they shal not for this be vnworthy: and especially the Doctours, who reade publikely, for they are publikely payd, and publike stipends, are in the number of poynts honorable. By good reason also Physitions are ho­nored, because in them there is vertue, and their end is sup­posed honest, in that they set not their labor at sale: and not­withstanding they extend foorth the hand, to receiue that which is giuen them, yet do they this, because a gift is accounted as a point honorable, and a reward of beneficent and wel dooing action: and therefore as the Philosopher sayeth, a gift is equallye desired by the ambitious, as by the co­uetous, of the ambitious for honour, of the couetous man for profite. At this last answer, the Ladies and Knights [Page 112]smiled, and Signior Brancaccio replied no further. But Sig­nior Scipion Gilioli took occasiō of the doubt propounded by Signior Guilio Caesar: I would willingly know, sayd he, seeing a wicked man by the worke of beneficence, cannot make himselfe worchie of honour, whether he may honour ano­ther or no: by one reason it seemeth no, in that hee cannot giue what hee hath not: but the wicked man hath no ho­nour: on the other side, if a wicked man shall receiue some singular benefit, from one honest and good, hee may in re­compence erect vnto him a Satue, make Himnes in his com­mendation, offer him presents, and such like honours. A bad fellow, answered Gualinguo, can in this do no honour to an honest man, who is truely honoured, but rather by such like ostentations hee dishonoureth him, especially when the man depraued doth him this honour: for hauing recei­ued some benefit, either in his body or goods: for an honest man cannot doo good to the body or goods of one wicked, without giuing scandale of himselfe, seeing hee is woorthy of honour, that doth good for honesties sake, and to a party henest.

You said, replied Signior Scipione, that a man might ma­ny waies be beneficiall, that is, to the body, goods, and soule: put we the case, that a good man, by doctrine, good exam­ples and admonitions, do cure vpon the sicke soule of one wicked, reducing him to better life, and that hee for such a benefit shuld erect vnto him a statue, as they do who hauing escaped a shipwrack, erect altares and statues, to God & re­ligion, should not this be honour to a vertuous man? With­out doubt it shuld, & that most great, said Gualinguo, in that of al benefits hee hath performed the greatest, which is, the health of the soule. Then inferred Gilioli, a man wicked may performe a most special honor, & yet not long since you de­nied it. I said, answered Gualinguo, that a depraued man could not giue honour, but hee which hauing receiued the health of his soule, doth honour, honoureth not as hee was wicked, but as hee is a good man, and therefore the honour he offe­reth [Page 113]is not to bee despised, for though it bee not honest, that a good man should further the bodie or goods of one wic­ked, yet is it most honest to procure vnto him the health of his soule: and whosoeuer performeth such a benefit, ma­keth himselfe worthie of honour; Signior Scipione vsed no further speech. When Signior Alessandro Andriasi: You sir Knight, haue defined this honor whereof we intreate, to be the rewarde of beneficence, if this definition were true, it would follow, that the inferior could not honour the supe­rior, for as it is proper to the superior, to giue, and not re­ceiue rewarde, so is it proper to the inferior, to receiue and not giue. And Gualenguo: rewarde may be considered, af­ter two sortes, which be, as it is profitable, or as it is honora­ble: as profitable it concurreth not with the definition of honor, but as it is honorable it therein taketh place. In this sort therefore considered, it may be thus giuen by the inferior, as vnto him also from the superior: for the recognisance of vertue, is common both to the one and other. Yet is there this difference, by reason that what by the greater is giuen to the inferior, besids being a note and testimonie of vertue, it sheweth also supereminencie in the superior, and there­fore requireth thankefulnes and gratitude: but that from the inferior to the greater, containing dutie, is a signe of hu­militie, and is called reuerence. This excellent destinction pleased all the standers by, and Andriasi replying no fur­ther. Signior Galiazzo Fiaschi: I remember said he amongst other matters I saw in the booke of Posseuino, this conclusi­on, that honor consisteth more in desert, then possession; where of I doubt: and vpon this expect your opinion. And Gualenguo: Posseuino, or the author of that booke, as many other thinges, so doth he maintaine this conclusion against Aristotle, from whom he sheweth himselfe altogether dis­membred, and seperate: for if it were true, that honor con­sisted, rather in deseruing, thē possessing thereof, that like­wise shuld be salfe, which the Philosopher affirmeth in the first of his Ethickes. That honor is not our owne, but depē ­deth [Page 114]more of the honorer then him honored: neither could honor be recounted, amongst goods externall, or of fortune: for though it be in our power, to make our selues worthy of honor, yet is it not in our power to receiue or possesle it: see­ing through the ingratitude or ignorance of them, in whose hands iust distributiō lieth, we are oft times deceiued. Ther­fore conformable to this, Cicero cited this notable sentence: ‘Ʋertue for guide, but Fortune for companion, I would haue.’ Minding to infer, that if the vertuous man haue not Fortune for his companion, he cannot haue pessession of honor: and that vertue without fortune, is of it selfe vnto it insufficient: the opiniō of Cicero was held for truth. When Caualier Gui­rino: Seing you sir Knight haue concluded with the Philoso­phers and Ciceros authoritie, that honor consisteth rather in possession thē desert, I desire to vnderstād further: whether a vertuous & prudent mā, ought to seek & demand that ho­nor, whereof he knoweth himselfe meritorious, or holding his peace, to attend while fortune accompany his valor and defect, with honorable charge, leauing al other meanes: In that by one reason it seemeth he should not: for in seeking after them, he incurreth suspect of ambition, which ought to be abhorred of an honest man: on the other side by not labo­ring and suing after it, hee is in danger to be thereof depri­ued, and consequently, not to be known for vertuous: consi­dering that honor is the ensigne of vertue: as by effect wee see, that som are esteemed of valor, by enioying magistracy, titles, and other such like honors, notwithstanding that in them selues, they haue not the least shadow of vertue. Then Gualinguo: It is the propertie of a vertuous and wise man, not to shew himselfe desirous of honor, neither to seeke or craue it, but directing all his actiōs to honestie, by this mean to make himselfe worthie of honor; yet ought he not to liue so contemptibly, as after the manner of Diogeues Cinicke, to manifest, that he holdeth honor in scorne, but rather when­soeuer occasion presenteth it selfe, he ought with modestie to accept of those honors that befit him, that he incurre not [Page 115]the vice of pusillanimitie. If it be true, replied Guirini, that honor is deserued by vertue, and by fortune acquired: I can­not see, why a vertuous man may not seek at the hands of for tune, the honor he deserueth, considering that fortune is not moued except she be sought vnto & vrged: we being wont for this cause to say, that she is not fauorable, to the timerous and slothfull, but to the bolde and aduenturous: and it is an opinion approued by all the Philosophers, that a wise man is the framer of his owne fortune: And I know some gentle­men, which to others also are wel inough knowne, vertuous, prudent, and of great desert, yet for that they haue (as wee sayde) bin euer colde, and not vrged fortune, nor sought the honors they deserued, liue in their Cittie without any re­noume: wherevpon by Court impostors, this their modesty is esteemed pusillanimitie, not to say plain stupidity: where­as on the contrary, euery day we see men of smal desert, rai­sed to great honors, by hauing beene audacious, and assay­ing all means, as wel lawfull as vnlawful, but specially in pro­curing to themselues their fauor, that could bestow on them honor or riches. And if wee do but thinke vpon the exam­ples, as well of the ancientes, as men of these times, we will conclude, that valiant men ought to seek, and hunt after ho­nors, that they may be known to be the men they are. For beginning from the Romaines, as they were vertuous, & of great valor, so did they demaund, and by all meanes affect honors: vnto them, it not seeming sufficient, to deserue it, except they also fished for it: with great sute therefore they required the Pretorships, Consulshippes, Pontificacie, all Magistracies, & other dignities that appertained to honor, as also the Generals of armies or Consuls were wont, retur­ning into their countrie laden with spoile of their enemies, with al instance to demaund triumph: and oftentimes this beeing denied them, they raised sedition in the common-wealth, which surely they would neuer haue doone, but that they knewe, that to seeke and hunt after honour, is proper to a vertuous man, and to one that deserueth: [Page 116]and to come to more moderne examples, let vs see, whether in the most famous Venetian commonwealth, honours and magistracie be by the nobility required: in such sort, as it see­meth no whit inconuenient for any gentleman whatsoeuer of singular vertue, to demaund Magistracie, with that theyr maner of supplication, which they call Broio; and yet for all this are they not counted ambitious, but rather doing other­wise, they should bee esteemed lostie and proude: as if for this receiued honour, they were rather bound to their owne proper vertue, then to those, who graciously dispensed it vn­to them. But what neede wee to vse any more preualent ex­ample, do we not reade that the master of good customes, A­ristotle himself with his followets hauing plucked Plato now old, out of his chaire, went and sate in it himself, not respec­ting to dishonour his maister, for the exaltation of himselfe with that honour, wherof he thought he was worthy? I will not therefore thinke, that to seeke honor is any heresie at all, or a thing vnworthie of a vertuous and wise man. The ver­tuous man, said Gualinguo, directeth al his actions to honestie, and not to honour, for though there were no honour in the world, yet would he performe honest actions, considering that humane felicitie consisteth in vertuous and honest acti­on, and not in honour, as the Philosopher affirmeth in the second of his Ethikes: nay, and as often as hee should per­forme honest actions, to no other end, but to obtaine honour, and not honest reputation, such an action of it selfe should neither be vertuous nor worthie of honour. But the ambiti­ous man making small reckoning of honesty, is hee that al­waies worketh in fauour of honour, seeking that honour which is not conuenient for him, from the place with him not befitting, & with the means for him, no waies requisite.

I would haue thought, said Guirino, that Honour and Honestie haddde beene the selfe same thing, especially, the Philosopher hauing placed it amongst things honest, or at least so, that the one cannot stande without the o­ther: in such sorte, that wee cannot endeuour in fauour [Page 117]of honestie, without hauing an eye vnto honour: as like­wise, he that did attend honor, shuld haue regard to honesty. And Gualinguo: although there is nothing honest, which is not also worthie of honour, and notwithstanding honour properly agreeth with things honest, yet honour without honestie, and honestie without honor may be found: for as one may deserue, and not possesse honour, so may he vnwor­thily enioy honour that deserueth it not, considering that the possession of honour is in the handes of Fortune, and not of vertue, as hath beene said. By the definition of honour replied Guiring, it seemeth that honour and honestie are in­seperable: for if honour be a signe of honest action, it will follow, that where honour is, there must likewise be hone­stie, as also where honestie is, there must needes be honour: as (for to vse the example of Posseuino) where is the figne, there is the Inne, neither without the signe can the Inne stand: and where ashes be, there either is, or hath beene fire, for ashes is a manifest token of fire, as milke is of pregnancy in a woman. If honor (said Gualinguo) were as necessarie a signe of honestie, as ashes of fire, or milke of child quick­ning and pregnancie, this argument would quickly bee con­cluded, but though honour be a signe and reward of benefi­cence, yet it is no necessarie token of honest action: for it may be honour, though vnworthily, where vertue is not, or vertuous action may stand without deserued honor, when she findeth her selfe by fortune abandoned: & to prosequute the example of Posseuino, as many times there be Innes, & e­specially in Spain, which haue nothing good in them but the signe or garland, that deceiue strangers, seeing within there is neither bread nor wine, nor any of those things that are the proper sustentations of an Inne, so may diuers be found, that not hauing in themselues any vertue, possesse by the stroke of blind fortune, the exterior ensigne of vertue, which is honor. But to returne from whence we haue digressed, I affirme, that to seek possession of honor by any other mean, then by the desert of vertue, is not a thing honest nor conue­nient [Page 118]for a vertuous and good man, so that with a quiet mind he ought rather to suffer the depriuation therof, then by de­maunding it, to manifest himselfe ambitious, and defirous of honor, retaining alwaies in memorie this infallible proposi­tion, that to require honour, annihilateth the desert of wer­tue. And therefore the Philosopher in the third of his Po­litikes sayth, that he who demaundeth magistracie, she weth himselfe rather ambitious, then deseruing it, and he addeth, that magistracies should rather bee giuen to those that mo­destly refuse them, then to such as impudently require them: which being true, the modestie of those gentlemen, by you and others knowne to be vertuous, ought not to bee taxed, although they liue a priuate life, not practising euerie day, after the manner of men ambitious, and that shamefully beg honours. But rather that Signior or prince is to be blamed, in whose handes it lieth to dispence rewardes, punishments, honours, grace, and fauours. For if hee knoweth not the desert of euerie subiect, but espetially of such as bee noble, who of themselues are worthie to be regarded, he incurreth like blame, as the shepheard that knoweth not his sheep: but if he know them, and yet distribute his honors & fauors, to flatterers, ignorant, and presumtuous men, litle esteeming the modest and vertuous, he sheweth himselfe vniust, & vnwor­thy of principality. And touching the example of the Ro­manes, if we mesure wel their actiōs, we shal find that in their common-wealth they were rather good citizens, then vertu­ous & good men. I would haue thought (saide Guirini) that a good citizen & an honest mā had bin al one: And Gualinguo: In the best common-wealth it is al one, because her end is ho­nest: but in that common-wealth which preferreth profit be­fore honestie, a good man & good citizen be not al one: And such an one was the Romane common-wealth, shee euer ha­uing had this scope, to signiorize ouer others, and there­fore the Romanes, notwithstanding they were good Ci­tizens, and profitable for the common-wealth, yet surelie they were not vertuous nor good men, but rather ambiti­ous, they seeking the honour, not of honestie, but of profit: [Page 119]and that this is true, by a decree of the Senate it may bee prooued, which thus disposed, that triumph should not bee granted, but vpon the augmentation of empire, and not for recouery only of things lost: as also, that no captaine might triumph, if in one battaile only, he had not at the least put six thousand men to the sword. Whether such an action be ab­solutely honest, or worthy of honor, I leaue to you to iudge: for my part, I would say, that to shedde humane bloud, for the wicked desire of Empire, were an action rather wicked and dishonest than woorthy of honour: which being true, the examples of the Romaines, ought not to remooue vs from our opinion, seeing they ambitious, sought honor, from whence it befitted not, and after a manner no wayes conue­nient: but if they had beene truely good and vertuous, they would neuer with sute haue demaunded magistracie and ho­nours, being an action much more worthy of an honest man with modestie to be refused, thā to be accepted of ambitiou­sly. And to vse the example of the selfe same Romaines, tell me in good ernest, whether of these two iudge you to be the honester action? That of Fuluius Flaccus, who to anoyde en­uy, refused triumph, by others so much aspired after: or that of Q. Ʋalerius, who blinded with ambition, contended with Lutatius about triumph, not respecting how it was not ho­nest, that a Pretor in triumph should be equall with a Con­sul? And which act was more worthy of commendation, that of Iulius Caesar, in vsurping the perpetual Dictatorship, or the other of the great African, who hauing bin entertained with honors correspondent to his deserts, & the Senate determi­ning further, to erect vnto him an image, where the people vsed to assemble, one in the Senate house, another in the Ren­ghera, or place of orations, as also to place his image in the Ca pitoll, where were the statues of the gods, adorned with tri­umphant ornaments, and further to make him both Consull and Dictator for terme of life: he neuer would consent, that any of these honours might bee attributed vnto him, ney­ther by decree of the Senate, nor voyce of the people. [Page 120]sent that any of these honors, might be attributed vnto him, neither by the decree of the Senate, nor voice of the people. Vndoubtedly this valiant man, did no lesse shew the great­nesse of his minde, in refusing so great honors, than before he had done in deseruing them: whereas on the contrarie, the minde of Caesar puffed vp and full of ambition, by vsur­ping the highest of all honours, did not alittle obscure the desert of his renowmed valour, making him to be knowne, as question lesse he was, for a man ambitious and wicked.

Concerning your moderne example, of the Venetian Signiorie, as that most noble common-wealth is armed with excellent lawes, so is the practise of Broio (as a course scarce honest) by law forbidden. And about reformation hereof is the office of Censorship conuersant: for truth whereof, they graunt no magistracie to them, who openly demand it, but to those that are chosen: and therfore, before they create a magistrate, they first call out by scruteny, those that are to haue the election; and he to whose lot the golden Ballot falles out, is the Elector that propoundeth and nominaceth him, whom he thinketh worthy of the magistracie; and that of al he may be knowne for such an one the Ballotini go about (for so are they called that cary about the box with these Ballots) declaring with an high voyce, the honours and magistracies that before they haue perfourmed. It cannot be denied, said Guirino, but that common-wealth gouerned by the Holy­ghost, is furmshed with excellent lawes: notwithstanding the practise of Broio is so inueterate, that there is no Magi­strate chosen, but by this meane: as also, they praeoccupy to be nominated and elected: yea and openly giue one to an o­ther the tickets of their names, surnames, and offices, they haue gone through. This abuse, aunswered Gualinguo is not rashly permitted, but with great iudgement, seeing thereout they reape a benefit, that tendeth to the preseruation of the common-wealth, considering that by this Broio, the Nobi­litie is vnited, comoyning themselues rogether in loue, pro­cured by this mutuall and interchangeable benefite: and by [Page 121]surname, knowing one another, they are warie to offend in any case: so that I assure you, those gentlemen, do more feare one of those ragged pelers of paper, then do souldiers the leaden bullet of the hargabuse. Surely I remaine satisfied, saide Guirino, that a vertuous and good man, ought not to prosecute honor, but with desert of vertue, and vertuous action. And Count Caesar Tassone: Seeing an honest man must not shew himselfe somuch as desirous of honor, yet I would willingly vnderstand, on whether of these two hee ought to bee most ententiue, ether to receiue honour, or to doe honor to another: for my part I woulde thinke, that honor being a signe which sheweth vertue, an honest man, to make himselfe knowne for the man he is, ought rather to couer by honor amongst others to be famous, then he him­selfe to honor another, considering that to honor another, seemeth a token of submission, and noteth I know not what kinde of supereminencie in him honored. A good man, answered Gualinguo, ought rather to be carefull in doing ho­nor, then in receiuing honor from another, and the reason is in readines: for though wee be not honored by another, yet lose we not the desert of honor: but on the contrarie, we not honouring those, to whom wee are bound to render ho­nor, we wholy manifest our selues vniust, and vnworthy of honor: Furthermore, to do honor, and especially to him that deserueth, is an honest action, and euer proper to a good man: but in receiuing honor, the honored performeth no­thing honest: and notwithstanding it be a signe of vertue in the honored, yet is it no such necessary token as wee haue said; for a wicked man may also receiue honor, although he be voworthy. Tassone commended this answer. When Signior Francisco, Patritio: You sir Knight haue giuen me but small occasion to doubt, yet would I willingly, some­what more exquisitly vnderstand, how it can be, that the honor by you termed natural, and as it were imperfect, should be a former disposition to perfect honor, considering you explained it from this point very diuers. And Gualingua [Page 122]The honour which is our owne, and whereof euery one ma­keth prosession, is out of doubt a former disposition to that honor, which with vertue is acquired: for whosoeuer want­eth the good opinion of the worlde, is incapable of all, but especially, of perfect honor, as a liuing thing wanting vertue vegetatiue, cannot haue sense. If perfect honor, said Patritio, (for so will we call that, which is the reward of vertue) can­not consist without the imperfect, wherefore haue you said that the imperfect honor hath no parte in felicitie, but onely the perfect? Vnperfect honor said Gualinguo, may be vnderstode by it selfe alone, (as many times we finde it) or else as conioyned with that perfect: of it selfe alone it hath no part in felicitie, because felicitie dependeth on operati­on according to the best and most perfect vertue: and this is not deriued from excellent operation, but from not per­forming very vitious action: and therefore it bringeth not with it felicitie, but maketh a man indifferent, neither hap­py, nor miserable; but when wee consider it, as vnited with perfect honor, then we may say, that it is a disposition and preparation to felicitie.

Patritio was satisfied, and Signior Hercules Ʋarani, who hath no small taste of learning, propounded after this man­ner: The Philosopher sheweth in the first of his Ethickes, in the place aboue cited, that felicitie is not honour, because felicitie is our owne, and honour is not: and rendring hereof a reason, he vseth these formall words: It seemeth honour is rather in the performer, than in him that receiueth it. Out of which wordes, some moue this question; whither honor, be in the honorer, or honoured: & amongst others, Posseuino maketh a large discussion, concluding that honour, is both in the one and other. In the honorer, because hee dooth his duetie, in honouring him that deserueth: and in the honou­red, as receiuing the reward of vertuous operation. Nowe of this honour wherewith we are borne, you haue sufficient­ly shewed howe it is both in one and other; but of perfect honor we stand in doubt.

[Page 123]And Gualinguo: It is no lesse improper, for to search whether this honour, bee in him honouring, or the hono­red, than it woulde bee to demaund, whether the Statue were in the Grauer, in the procurer of it to be wrought, or in him whose image it representeth: therefore I say, that honour as a rewarde, is neither in him honoring, nor the honored. And what sence will you apply to the wordes of the Philosopher, replied Varani? When Gualinguo: The Philosopher woulde inferre, that honour being no other, than that reward, which sheweth operation of vertue, it de­pendeth of the giuer, as of the cause efficient, which is he honouring, and not of the other honoured, being hee that receiueth it: seeing it is in our power to deserue it, but not to receiue it, as wee haue saide: yet to honourable action, hee honoured concurreth in a more eminent manner, than the honorer; in that he thereto concurreth as the ende, hee ho­nouring performing honor, in fauour of the other honored: but if by this reason, honour were formally, both in the ho­norer, and honored, by the contentment, which of honou­rable action, is both in the one and other, as affirmeth Posse­uino, this would bee false which the Philosopher saith, for the contentment of receiuing honour, being greater than of performing it, it would by this meanes come to bee, more in the honored that receiueth, then in the honorer, that per­formeth it. And how can it be added Varano, that in receiuing there should be greater contentment, than in perfourming, considering (as the same Posseuino affirmeth) that it is a thing more excelent to do, than suffer: but he that receiueth suffe­reth? This proposition also of Posseuino, answered Gualinguo, is false, speaking absolutely, for being alwayes true, it would follow that the creature in reasonable action were more ex­cellent than the Creator. But to the end we erre not in this, it must be obserued, that to giue, and receiue, is considered two manner of wayes: one, when wee performe or giue simply in honesty, without hauing receiued, or so much as ho­ped for any benefit. And in this kind, it is much more excel­lent [Page 124]to giue thē to receiue, and the contentment of him that giueth, is much more, then of the other that receiueth, for in the giuer, abundance appeareth, but in the receiuer, indi­gence. The other kind is, when we giue in recompence of a receiued benefit, & especially the reward of Vertue, which is the honour of this world: and in this respect vndoubtedlie it is a matter of greater excellence to receiue then giue, be­cause it noteth aboundance of perfection in the receiuer, and want in him that giueth: and so consequently, it is a greater contentment to receiue after this maner, thē to giue: conformable to which our opinion, the Philosopher in the second of his Rhetorick, saith: The performer of a benefit is much more ioyfull in beholding him benefited, then is the receiuer in seeing his benefactor: and to conclude, by howe much the cause finall is more noble and excellent then the efficient, so much more excellent is it to receiue, then to giue honour.

And therefore the most mightie God concurreth with honour, as of all other things the most eminent, being the end, in fauour whereof all things do moue. Signior Hercules approoued this answere: and Signior Francesco Ʋilla, thus propounded: You, sir knight, haue defined honour vniuer­sally to be the most precious of all goods externall, which being true, it would follow, that Praise, Honour, Glory, and Fame, should be the selfe same things signified by these di­uers names, or being different, your proposition would bee false, for glorie is much more esteemed then honour, which seemeth to be most precious, as that which onely agreeth with God. And Gualin: Your doubt Signior Ʋilla, is no lesse excellent and gracious then your selfe, wherefore re­soluing it, I say, that if wee consider the foundation, and from whence they take their originall, praise, honour, and glory, be the self same things, neither doth one in perfectiō exceed another, seing al of them are grounded vpon vertue, and from her are deriued. And therfore the Romans so ioy­ned togither the Temple of Vertue and Honour, as to the [Page 125]Temple of Honor one could not passe, vnlesse first he wen by that of Vertue: but if we consider these termes in them­selues, they are of diuers signification: for speaking proper­ly, we praise habites and vertues, but attribute honour to the actions that of vertue depend, and glorie to the excellence of vertue and actions togither: distinguishing therefore eue­rie one of these termes, we wil affirm, that praise is a speech, which sheweth and exalteth another mans vertue, the which in two sorts is afforded, with liuely voyce, and in writing, as also by poesie: and this by the Graecian is called Encomion, and hath his place with honour permanent: Glorie, the faithfull heire as it were, of Praise, is no other but a com­mon and approoued opinion, of another mans excellent vertue and Heroycall acts, and from honour is different, be­cause this, without any other signe or reward, may be pre­serued in memory with men, through infinit ages. Fame, not­withstanding it seeme the same that is Glorie, that also be­ing a publike rumour, that bringeth forth vniuersall opini­on, yet is it from Glorie different, first, because shee in one instant hath her sorce, and many times is falacious: but Glo­rie is euer firme, as not framed but with long time. Moreo­uer, glorie is alwaies taken in good parte, Fame sometimes well, otherwhiles euill, whereupon wicked men also are saide to be famous: and therefore Fame of Virgill is described, to be an horrible monster, then which there is nothing more swift. It seemeth also that Fame agreeth most with the dead, but Glorie belongeth also to the liuing. For the excel­lent Philosophers, and great Captaines, nowe long since dead, are sayd by Fame to be exalted to the starres, but glo­rie the liuing also enioy.

Signior Villa was pleased with this answer, and the Ladie Tarq. Molza drawing neare, a woman of most pregnant capa­citie, seeing how in that noble assembly there was not anie, who would further propound with the fauor of the Queen, spoke after this sort: It appeareth Sir knight, that you haue handled this argument of honour, in fauour onely of [Page 126]men, as though women therein, had no part at al: seeing al those aduertisements by which honor is preserued, do in a manner pertaine altogether to men, and little or nothing to women; because for my part I will not be of opinion, that a woman looseth her honor, if with her proper valor she repel not iniurie, or fight not for her Countrie, Prince, children, or husband, performing other such like actions, as belong vnto fortitude. Forbeare not therefore to instruct women, how they may preserue their honor: And Gualinguo: Al­though in women, most gentle Lady, all those vertues are found, which proportionally are correspondent to the ver­tues of men, notwithstanding it seemeth, that for preseruing their honor, theyr condition is farre better then mens: for Honor feminine is preserued by not failing onely in one of their proper particular vertues, which is honestie. If a wo­man therefore, replied Lady Tarquinia, should committe a thest, manslaughter, or faile in any other part of Iustice, should she not for such a fact be infamous? And Gualenguo: Although such offences, in men and women, are by the laws equally punished, yet as often as in a woman they are not accompanied with the act of dishonestie, they make her not infamous. Therefore it was not lawfull with the Hebrewes nor Romaines, to refuse their wiues, as also at this day the seperation of mariage bed is not permitted, but for crime of dishonestie, seeing in a woman, this offence is so grieuous, as with her owne, shee staineth also the honour of her hus­band.

This is a great matter you acqaint me withal, added Molza, neither can I perceiue how it may bee, the definition of ho­nor, remaining firme, wherein you conclude, that honor is lost through our own, and not for anothers defect: the a­dulterie therefore of the wife, being of a wife the defect and offence, and not of her husband, she only ought therefore to bee infamous.

The wife, answered Gua. beeing in her husbands power, and vnder his gouernment, it appereth shee cannot offend, [Page 127]without some fault in her husband, as he that either by con­sent, or euill gouernment, hath beene the occasion of such a defect: and therefore it cannot bee that the adulterous wife, should not in some part offend her husbands honour, because such a man, cannot bee in that good opinion hee first was, with them who haue notice of this offence, for they iudge him ignorant, of small worth, and worthy of that contempt his wife and adulterer procure him. And if the husband, saide Molza, knewe not the adulterie of his wife, but had thereof all the conuenient care hee might, and yet for all this, his wife should bee so malitious, as hee not ware thereof, to set a creast on his head: should the husband for this lose his honour?

A man not beeing able, answered Gualenguo, to auoide all snares and deceits, nor to preuent those thinges, whereof he hath no knowledge, should not altogether loose his ho­nour, notwithstanding, it could not otherwise in some sorte be, but that he should be touched, and shake his reputation with those men, who were acquainted with his wises adul­terie: yet could he not in comparison of honor be excep­ted against, vnlesse it were prooued, that he tollerated his wifes dishonestie, for some benefit he hoped for in simpli­citie, or through folly; suffering her to go into places dis­honest, or to conuerse with women of euill name, or where there were daunger that shee might committe adul­terie; for certainly hee is a foole, that putteth fire to towe and thinketh it shoulde not burne.

To retourne therefore to our purpose, a woman desirous to preserue her honor, ought to haue an eye to preserue her honestie, and not onely to bee free from offence, but also from suspition of offence: the which shee shall conue­niently doo, if shee accompanie her wordes, laughter, lookes, and carriage of her person, with that graue and reuerent maiestie, as is beseeming a chaste and modest Matrone, and aboue all, to auoide the familiar con­uersation [Page 128]of any man, be his condition whatsoeuer, except her father, sonne, and brother: For honor hauing his foun­dation and proper essence in the opinion of the worlde, it is not so much lost for offence, as by probable presumptions of offending, With this aunswere, by the Queene commen­ded, and by all these most chaste and vertuous Ladies confir­med, they ended the discourse of honor; and the Lady Lau­ra Peuerara was called, who with singular delight to the hea­rers, sung vnto the Harpe an amorous Sonnet. But the court and huutsmen arriued, the Queene & company retired them selues into the lodging of the Duchesse, where, with diuerse entertainements they spent the time while Supper; which finished, and certaine dances exercised, the night being wel spent, the Duke rose vp, and referring ouer his fish­ing to the day following they all betooke themselues to their rest.

THE whole Court and his Highnesse, beeing ready in the morning to haue gone to sea, there sodainly rose a most furious winde, which hauing inconti­nently, as it were, obscured the ayre, with thicke and darke cloudes, helde the whole company in suspence, till dinner time: Finally, by all those ex­perienced, the time being thought vnfit, eyther to drawe the nettes, or practise other manner of fishing, as also to be dan­gerous, for going on the sea; the Duke, after the tables were taken away, and the rayne euen now ready to descend, gaue libertie to the Ladies and Gentlemen, to betake themselues to that entertainement of time, which best stoode with their contentment: some therefore went to cardes, some to tables, other some to chesse, and diuers spent the time in plesant dis­courses. Signior Gualinguo was set downe by himselfe alone, al melancholy, leaning his cheek on his hand: which Count Alfonso Turchi perceuing, as he who is desirous to vnderstand (especially such matters as appertaine to knighthoode) go­ing to count Scandiano, count Hercules Beuelacqua, and count Guido Calcagnini, who stood beholding at a window the tem­pestuous sea: Let vs go, saide he, to Signior Gualinguo, who sitteth there altogither idle, and procure we him to discourse a little more particularly touching Honour and Combate. For although yesterday, he entreated thereof, yet stoode he [Page 130]altogether vpon generalities, not extending himselfe greatly to particulars, which in my opinion, are of no small impor­tance. This motion wel pleased the other three Gentlemen, it seeming vnto them, that they could not spend the day in more pleasing or profitable entertainement. Approaching therefore neare Gualinguo, sir knight, said Count Alfonso, if we be importunate, blame your owne vertue, and the desire wee haue to vnderstand: Yester euening in fauour of the Queene, to our great benefit and contentment, you made it knowne, that there were two honors, in themselues diuerse, the one of which might be called perfect, grounded vpon an opinion, for the most part false; and the other truly perfect, as grounded vpon true apparant valour, and vpon the most excellent of all vertuous operations. To day seeing the time forcibly keepeth vs in the house, we desire, that in fauour of your selfe, you wil discourse of combate: for those who write of combat, not hauing distinctly known the nature of honor, doubtlesle, they haue not thereof sincerely intreated.

Although to this houre, answered Gualinguo, there hath not any written sufficiently of Combate, and that for this, many abuses haue bene introduced into the Titles of honor; yet in this, neither I can, or ought to giue you satisfaction: first, because the Treatise thereof is superfluous, Combate nowe being no more in vse, but remooued out of christian commonwealths, by Popes and christian Princes, as a thing certainely, I will not say barbarous, (in that amongst Barba­rians wee neuer finde it accustomed) but impious and pro­phane: secondarily, as a man expressing the trueth, I neyther can nor ought to dilate, but in discommendation of it, shew­ing contrary to the vanitie of Doctour Paris de Puteo, and Posseuino, that it is vniust, and worthy to be wholly banished out of the commonwealth, as a destroyer of humane felicity; if you wil not according to our desire, said Alfonso, discourse thereof, at the least yet, may it please you, by vs demanded, to answer to those points, wherein we do doubt, & haue not vnderstanding. And Gualinguo: I wil not refuse to make an­swer, [Page 131]and resolue you to my power, if you shoulde thereof haue any wrong or sinister opinion. You intreating of ho­nour, added Count Alfonso, sayde, that Combate was who­ly grounded vppon that honour, wee bring with vs from our mothers wombe, and whereof euery one maketh pro­fession, it beeing honour imperfect: and that it hath no­thing to doe with that honour which is a parte or circum­stance of felicitie. Of this I stand in doubt: For besides that Posseuino holdeth the contrary, hee grounding Combate vp­pon that honour which is a signe of beneficent opinion: fur­ther then this, also it seemeth there is some reason, that a man in combate, putting his life to compromise, ought ra­ther to expose it for honour perfect, than imperfect: espe­cially perfect honour, being part of felicitie, vnto which, as to his proper end man directeth all his operations. And Gualinguo: What I told you yesterday is true, that Combate hath not to do with that honor, which is a part of felicitie, & reward of beneficence: the which I will make you conceiue, by the definition it selfe of Combate, which in my opini­on ought to be such: Combate is a bartaile betwixt twoo of equall interest, in some poynt of honor, in the end where­of the vanquished incurreth infamy, and the victor remai­neth possessed of Honour: Wee hauing therefore shewed that infamie is not contrary, to perfect honour, which with valour is acquired, it followeth that the honour in Combate debated, neyther is, nor can bee perfect honour: but that honour, which is proper contrary to infamy.

This also is made manifest by the two meanes, where­with quarrels are protested: For hee which challengeth, called therefore the Assailant, offereth to proue vpon him chalenged, who in this respect is termed Defendant, that he hath committed some of those offences, that depriue of ho­nor, and that therefore he is infamous: in the other kinde, the assailant offereth to proue himselfe a man of honor, and that hee is vnwoorthy of the iniury and contempt, which the Defendant hath offered him, being as much as if he shoulde [Page 132]say, that he would proue vpon him, that himselfe neuer fail [...] in iustice, nor honor. For by such defects a man commeth in­to contempt: and to stand vpon vse and custome, wee neuer do, nor shall finde, that any quarrels haue beene vndertaken, about perfect honor, or that any for this haue come to com­bate: for certainely it woulde bee a ridiculous matter, if any should offer to proue, that he is a man, worthy of a statue, I­mage, crowne, a publike gift, to be reuerenced, giuen place vnto, celebrated with hymnes, or honored with such like ho­nors, as also it would be as far frō reason, for a man to proue one infamous, not because he had offended, but in that hee neuer receiued any of those honors by me recited. And to an swer that you spake touching Posseuino, I know not how he came to be so blinde, as hauing defined honor, and entreated thereof, as the reward and signe of beneficence, he afterward hath so vnaduisedly thereupon grounded Combate, minding that the honor contended vpon, within the listes, should bee that, which is the reward of beneficence, neither can wee say, that he intended it by any other honor: for besides that in all his booke he hath not discussed or knowne any other honor but this, which is a part and proper condition of felicitie; he yet further in the beginning of the fift Booke manifesteth himselfe cleerely, saying that the honor, which is the end of Combate, is explaned and defined in that part of Politickes which handleth Customs; and that therefore the Treatise of Combate, is a matter pertaining to the Moralist, and not to the Ciuilian: and why might not this honor saide count Al­fonso Turchi, be the reward of the victor in the listes? consider­ing that to such a one after victorie, great honors were done, he being accompanied out of the field, with sound of drum and trumpet, and denounced valorous of all men: and finally, the armes hung vp in the church, wherewith he had fought, to the perpetual glory of such a fact: which armes, after the nature of a statue, represented the image of the victors valor. Relying on the definition of perfect honor, said Gual: by vs recited, & by the same Posseuino confirmed, after Aristotles o­pinion [Page 133]it cannot be the reward of the victor in the listes; for he performeth no act of beneficence, but to himselfe, ouer­throwing his enemie: but rather in respect of the world, he performeth a worke of maleficence, and therefore is worthy of blame: because hee offendeth the life and honour of his neighbour, and depriueth the common wealth of a cham­pion.

And touching those, which you tearme honors within the lifts these be no true houors, in that they neither are, nor can be the rewards of beneficence, as also it is no perfect honor, to hang vp our armes in the church of God: first because he that is conqueror, not to himselfe, but to the glorie of God hangeth them vppe: and though he had done it in fa­uour of himselfe, yet could this be no honor vnto him, in that, though by our selues, we may be made worthy of honor, yet of our selues, as we haue proued, wee cannot bee honored: for then it would follow, that for the selfe same respect, and at the selfe same time, one may be both honorer and hono­red, which is impossible: I hauing many times considered, saide Count Guido, of hanging vp in the Temples the armes of the Champions in combate, dedicating them to God: I could not but with wonder rest scandalized with so great an abuse, especially God in his holy law, hauing commaun­ded, that menquellers, should be remoued from his aultar; for what thing could be more impious, and prophane, then to present before God the vniust sword, all begoared and tainted in humane bloud, and which before had destroied the image of God, and dispearsed the honor and life of his neighbour. The holy Ghost euer be praised, who yet in the end hath vouchsafed, to breath vppon the soules of christi­an Princes, and hath remoued vniust combate, which was the occasion of so many euils. questionlesse it was a singular fa­uor, proceeding from the diuine bountie and goodnesse of God (saide Count Hercules) to root out of the world so great an abuse. But to returne to Posseuino. of whom sometimes, I was wont to be enamoured, I now know, that there can no [Page 134]excuse bee found, but that, his error is to be blamed: seeing it is manifestly proued by the selfe same definition, hee de­liuereth, of Combate, that the honour contended of in the listes, is not that honour hee defined, and whereof in his booke, hee hath intreated, which definition hee setteth downe with farre greater circumstances, then you do yours, wherfore of necessitie either yours must be defectiue, or his superaboundant, he affirming combate to bee a voluntarie encounter, betwixt two men, by which the one armed ontē ­deth to proue vpon the other, by his owne proper valor, not therein any way hindred, and in the space of a day, that he is an honorable man, and not worthie to be contemned, nor iniuried: as also the other hath a determination to proue the contrarie. Out of doubt by these last words in this definition, it cannot be entended by perfect honor, and by beneficent actiō acquired, seeing he mindeth not to proue, that he hath performed any great benefite, that he is worthy of a statue, crowne, or some other such like reward: except peraduen­ture Posseuinos minde was, or that he supposed, the man vn­worthie of contempt, to be also worthie of the rewarde of beneficence. Notwithstanding Posseuino, answered Gualin: endeuoreth to shew, that this his definition, is most perfect, as in it being nothing superfluous or improper, and that it might be a perspicuous beginning to the vnderstanding of all thinges, that appertaine to combat: yet to himselfe o­uermuch affected, he is deceiued, for hee hath praepostered it with words superfluous, defectiue, and improper.

Now in all affection, sir Knight I beseech you (said Count Alfonso) be it not vnto you displeasing, to examine this defi­nition by points and parcels, to the end, we may vnderstand the truth, for I for my part euer iudged, that Posseuino, by this definition had better expressed the nature of combate, then any other, that hitherto had written. Beginning at the first worde (answered Gua.) encounter or conflict, wherof in this definition, he maketh a generall vse: it is not a worde pro­per, but translated; for it is drawne from hewing down trees, [Page 135]ouerthrowing houses, walles, towres, and such like: and it is a thing certaine (as the Philosopher teacheth) that translated or metaphoricall wordes, as we call them, are not apt to ex­presse the essence of things: and thersore they should neuer be placed in definitions, especially, when there bee wordes proper to serue the turne: and although without preiudice to truth, we should grant, that it were not a word translated, yet could he not denie, that he, when he might haue placed in his definition, a kinde more neare, hath vsed one more v­niuersal and remote, considering that conflict or encounter, is much more remote and vniuersall, then is their word battaile, seeing euery battaile may bee saide to bee a con­flict, but yet euery conflict may not bee a battaile: except Posseuino were of opinion, that to ouerthrowe walles, trees, houses, or such like thinges, were to be tearmed a bat­taile. Houing therefore in this definition placed the kinde remote, for that nearer to the nature of the thing, it seemeth he made but small accoūt of his maisters precepts in his Lo­gicke; and the error he hath committed, is no lesse, then be­ing to define man, he hath defined him for a creature, and not for a reasonable substance. But for all this he sheweth, replied Count Alfonso, with iudgement to haue set downe these wordes: saying: from hence wee may gather that all both wise and ignorant, doe call such an encounter or con­flict if we so please, Combate? Although this be false (said Gualinguo) as I will shewe you, yet admit it were true, that Combate ordinarily were called a conflict, it should not for all this bee set downe in the definition of Combate, this beeing a worde translated improper, and insufficient, to distinguish the nature of Combate: For as authoritie coupled with reason, maketh great proofe, so of rea­son abandoned, it is insufficient, neither shall wee euer finde, that the Philosopher without reason hath preuai­led by authoritie: but this is farre from truth, that such a like battaile, is by all men called a conflict: And beginning with excellent Doctor Paris de puteo, who is the ancientest [Page 136]and of greatest authoritie, he calleth combate a single bat­taile, and neuer termeth it an encounter or conflict, and not­withstanding Mutio Iustinopolitano sometimes hath named it a conflict, yet when heassigneth the proper desinitiō ther­of, he saieth, that combate is a battaile, of body to body, for proofe of truth: and Ariosto speaking of battaile hand to hand, calleth it not an encounter, or conflict, but single fight, saying: ‘Fine, or six dayes, this single fight deferred was.’

And that which followeth: by this authoritie, one may vnderstand, that Posseuino hath erred in saying, that both the wise, and ignorant, call combate a conflict: but rather a­ny one of iudgement, hauing an eye to the latine, which saieth, single fight: and to the Greeke which tearmeth it Monomachia, signifying the selfe same, will define it a bat­taile, and not a conflict. But to come to that other word vo­luntarie, it is superfluous, improperly placed, and not neces­sarie, as he affirmeth, to distinguish a battaile made by force & in this point, he hath no better vsed Aristotles doctrine, then before in other places he hath done. But how is it su­perfluous, replied Count Alfonso, are there not many that fight by constraint? It is superfluous (answered Gualinguo) because without it, the definition may stand, seeing such a chance can neuer happen, that two combatantes within the listes should fight, by force, in that manner hee speaketh of; and alwaies when there is a battaile, it is supposed to be vo­luntarie; but further, he hath vsed this word voluntarie, vn­properly, in hauing applied it absolutely; for although com­bate be Voluntary, yet is it not absolutely volūtary, but hath euer mixed with it some circumstance, not voluntarie. I rest altogether perplexed (saide Count Alfonso) neither can I imagine, how combate should be, either voluntarie, or vio­lent. To manifest this vnto you (returned Gualinguo) and withall, to discouer the error of Posseuino, it is necessary, that I giue you distinctly to vnderstand, what actions bee abso­lutely voluntary, and what not voluntary, and which mixed, [Page 137]that is which haue ioyned with thē a little force or cōstraint: and this I will do the more willingly, in that all this I am to tell you, wilbe no smal assistance, to the vnderstanding of vertuous operations: for no action can be tearmed vertuous, or vitious, worthie of honor, or deseruing blame, demeriting reward, or punishment, if it be not absolutely voluntarie.

I affirme therefore that to be absolutely volumarie, seuen conditions are required, as the Philosopher very well tea­cheth in his Moralles; the first is, that the beginning be in him that worketh, and not external or without him: the se­cond is, that he vnderstand his owne action: the third, con­cerning what, or for what cause he worketh: the sift, after what sorte: the sixt, to what end, that is, in fauour of whom: the last, that he performe such an action, voluntarily, and not with griefe: whensoeuer therefore, any of these condi­tions shall faile, out of doubt the action, cannot absolute­ly be termed voluntarie, but shal either, not be voluntary, or retaine with it, some part or circumstāce of constraint. Help my vnderstanding (said Count Alfonso) with some example, to the end I may better comprehend these circumstaunces of absolutely voluntarie. And Gua. behold an example, we may commit an error, not vnderstanding the matter, as hee doth, that putteth away a false crown esteeming it good: this action may be tearmed not voluntarie, for if he had knowne so much, being an honest man, he would not haue spent it: and therefore is worthie of pardon, and not of punishment: In like sort we may erre, not knowing the matter, or cōcer­ning what wee worke, as if one should offend his Father, e­steeming him an enemie, in such maner as vnhappy Oedipus did: wee may likewise erre by not knowing the instrument wherewith wee worke, as if one should strike with a speare, beleeuing it to be without a head, or with a marble stone, ta­king it for a pumix: Fiftly wee erre about the maner how: as if one thinking to strike softly, shoulde smite hard. Sixt­ly, we erre concerning the end, & of all other errors it is the greatest, as if a Phisition to heale his patient, should lance [Page 138]an impostume, and by such incision procure him to die: last­ly, that action is not absolutely voluntary, but hath somwhat not voluntary mixt with it: when one worketh hauing know lege of al the circumstances aboue named, & yet inforced, & with grief, performs such an action, as it hapneth to him, who to saue his life, casteth his goods into the sea. Now by abso­lute voluntary, we may conceiue that, not voluntary, which is in two maners: that is, by force or ignorance: by force is that, when the beginning of the action consisteth not in the performer, but is extrinsecall and without him, as if one tak­ing my arme by force, should strike another therewith: and therefore this action is violent, because the actor consenteth not thereunto, neither as agent nor patient: by ignorance is he, that worketh, not knowing any of those circumstances by me recited: and this, though alwayes it be not voluntary, yet is it not euer vnwillingly performed, but sometimes it hap­neth, that they be performed both voluntarily, and not. How can it be, said count Guydo, that one thing may be, not volun­tary, & yet Voluntarily acted. When after an operation, per­formed ignorantly, replied Gualin. there insueth not griefe, or repentance, but rather ioy and contentment, that is an a­ction not voluntary, voluntarily performed: as if one should shoot an arrow, where he thought some wilde beast lay hid, and with this should kil his enemy there in couert, it might be said, that this man vnwillingly, had voluntarily slaine him, he after the fact remaining ioyful, and wel satisfied; but when repentance followeth such operations, in such a case they are not voluntary, and against wil performed. There be other a­ctions, which (as I haue said) be termed mixed, because they haue annexed to thē, some respects voluntary, som not volun tary: for voluntary they are, as not being performd by force.

For the beginning of the action is in the actor, who is pri­uy to the circumstances by me rehearsed; but yet haue some consideration in them of not voluntary, insomuch, as they are performed for feare of greater ill, or for hope of some good, & so vnwillingly performed: being such actions as no man of [Page 139]sound minde woulde vndertake: as if a tyrant hauing in his power, the father or children of some one, should command him to performe som infamous fact, with this condition, that performing it, his father and children should be free, and on the contrary not accōplishing it, they shuld be put to death. The like is as I said by them, who for feare of shipwrack, cast out their goodes: for simply there is no man, that of his own proper will, casteth away his goodes: this granted, wee may easily conceiue, that this word voluntary, placed by Posseuino, in his definition of Combate, cannot be intended by absolute voluntarines, as himselfe (it seemeth) vnderstands it: for not­withstanding in him that fighteth, the internal beginning of such an action consisteth, & that it is not performed by igno­rance, yet hath it some circumstance of not voluntary annex­ed to it: first, because it is done for feare of greater euill, as would be the losse of honor, which the professor therof pre­ferreth before his own life: secondly, in that no man of right sense, would chuse to put his life, honor, & soul, to cōpromise, as combatants do within the lists. Poss. hath erred, by impro­perly placing this word voluntarily in his definition; neither can this alegation excuse him, that he put it in, for difference of conflict made by force; seeing all conflicts are forcibly at­tempted after the same maner I haue declared, they beeing performed for feare of greater euil: but if he meant to place it as a difference, of violent, & not voluntary; which is of that when the beginning of operation consists not in the actor, it would be superfluous, for such an instance can not be imagi­ned in combatants within the lists: vnlesse Posseu. meant that the wind shuld face to face blow the combatants one against an other with their armes, the one by the other to be brused. But proceeding further, after hee hath said, that combate is a voluntarie incounter or conflict, he addeth: wherein one in­tendeth to proue vpon another, that he is an honorable man, and vnworthy to be iniuried or contemned; as likewise the other mindeth to prooue the contrary.

In this last clause there be two errors; first, that there being [Page 140]two kindes of quarrelles, for which the assailant, chalengeth combate, he hath made mention, only of one: the second is, that he hath improperly placed this word, to prooue, in the person of the defendant, which is proper to the assailant. I would haue thought, said the Count of Scandiano, that quar­relles had not beene onely of two sortes, but rather in­sinite, for which men fight: Although the quarrelles may be infinite, answered Gualenguo, that procure combate, yet are they all reduced to two heades, as likewise iniurie and impeaching another mans honor, be of two sortes: for iniu­rie is either committed in words or deeds: in iniury of deeds, the assailant being euer the partie iniuried, he entendeth to prooue vpon the defendant, that he is an honorable man, and vnworthy to be contemned: and so consequently, that the defendant, in offending him, hath carried himselfe, as an vn­iust and wicked man; the defendant minding to maintaine the contrary. In the iniurie of wordes, the Assailant is for the most part him iniurying, who by the iniuried repelled with a lie, is inforced to auerre his saying: and therefore he entendeth to aprooue vppon the defen­dant, that he hath failed in iustice or valor, and that hee deserueth not to bee in the number of men honourable, the defendant determining to mantaine the contrarie: Yet Posseuino, in his definition comprehendeth not the se­cond manner, which respecteth the iniurie of wordes, but onely the first, hauing relation to iniurie in deedes, and therefore in this point is defectiue. The vsing of this worde. To proue, in the person of the defendant, was no lesse error, saide Count Alfonso, because vnto the assai­lant it is so proper, as that there haue beene some (whose opinion notwithstanding I do not commend) who setting downe precepts for the forming of billes, haue aduised the defendantes, that in answering, they should not vse this worde, to prooue, because by this meanes, of defendants, they should make themselues assailantes, and bee preiudi­ced in the election of armes.

[Page 141]Although after a confused maner, said the count Scandiano, I vnderstand these termes, Assailant, and Defendant, yet I desire to haue of them more full and ample knowledge, as also wherefore to prooue, is proper to the assailant, and to sustaine and maintaine to the defendant: These termes (answered Gualinguo) are taken out of the ciuil lawe, where­in hee that demandeth and mooueth strife, is named the As­sailant, and the chalenged Defendant: So that in Combate the challenger is called, Assailant, and he challenged Defen­dant: And as by the Ciuil law, it concerneth him Plaintife, to prooue by testimony or writings wherefore hee pretend­eth to vsurpe the Defendaunts goodes: So in Combate it belongeth to the Assailant, to proue wherefore he vsurpeth the Defendants honor: And therefore it is necessary that the first prouocation proceede from the Assailant, in assaul­ting the Defendant, to which Defendant as a Castell, it suf­ficeth to sustaine the assault: wherefore as well in combat, as in ciuill lawe, the state of the Defendant, is better than of the Assailant: in that the Assailant not subduing, looseth, and the Defendant not loosing, ouercommeth. It seemeth further, saide Count Guido, that Posseuino thought it necessa­ry to insert this word Armes, in the definition of combate, saying: that the one wil prooue by Armes, and as foloweth: whereof I am doubtfull, especially by the Lombards lawe, who were the authors of combate, seeing they allow not, that the Combatants shoulde vse other armes in Combate, than staues, and if armes were graunted, this was onely in quarrels that imported some offence against the maiestie of the Prince. And Gualinguo: If Posseuino by armes intendes onely those which are made of yron, or steele, which cutte, pricke, and kill, out of doubt, it is superfluous, seeing with­out such armes quarrels may be ended, and an enemie van­quished, within the lists. It see meth, saide Count Hercules Beuelacqua that hee expresseth himselfe, because he saith, he putte in armes in that definition, for the difference betwixt them, and proofe of testimony, & other means, as with fistes, [Page 142]buffetting, and other such like offences, which are not pro­perly termed combate: In my opinion also that other cir­cumstance is not necessarie, but rather superfluous (in the space of one day) saying, that the assailant in the space of a day mindeth to proue, that he is a man of honor. Where­fore is that superfluous, said Count Alfonso; would you that there should be no end of the defendants fighting? And Gualinguo: Questionlesse, it is superfluous, for though they should fight out the battaile, till one were slaine, (which sometimes, by consent of the defendant, they do) yet could it not therefore be saide, that such a battaile were not com­bate. Posseuino, said Turcho, in the beginning of his fift and last booke of Honor, moueth a question, which hath, and will euer bee readye to procure disputation amongst the curious, and that is, whether the treatie of combate, ap­pertaineth to militarie discipline, to politicall customes, or to the wisdome of the lawes: and finally it seemeth, that with most effectuall reasons hee concludeth, that the treatie thereof properly appertaineth to politicke customes, and morrall philosophy, being altogether alienate from profes­sors of the law, and souldiers: and our countrie man Pigna, was of the same opinion, as he affirmeth in his booke intit­led of honor, and men heroicall. Touching this also I would willingly vnderstand your minde, that relying on Posseuino and Pigna I continue not still deceiued, as I was wont. In very deed, said Gualinguo, you should bee deceiued, if you entred into any such opinion, for politick customes neither, can, nor ought in any sort, to entreat of combate, combate being a thing vniust, & contrary to their foundations. Pos­seuino, replied Turcho, doth yet by liuely reasons shew, that combate hath relation to politicke customes, as that which intreateth of iniuries, and determineth honour, which is the ende of Combate; for combate is ordained to no other end, but to repel iniuries, and recouer honor: and more, by politicke customes, we conceiue, who is honorable, and who not, as who is iniuried, and who not: and not by the policy of lawes, and magistrates, which discusse not of ver­tue, [Page 143]vices, honor, or felicitie: but supposing all these thinges, with good lawes, & feare of punishment, enforce malicious, & ignorant men, to liue according to vertue. By that I haue otherwise said, answered Gualin. in the discourse of honour, as also by that I am to declare vnto you, it will bee an easie matter to conceiue the sophistications of Posseuino, who de­firous to entreat of combate, with morral foundations, and according to Aristotle, is fallen into a sea of errors, & manifest contradictions, giuing to vnderstand, without other additi­on, that combat is no point of morall discipline, as it is onely moral: for the morall Philosopher hauing felicitie for his scope, as he which entendes no other course, but to shew the meanes whereby a man may become happy, cannot dispose of these things which are contrarie to felicitie, except by the same meanes he considereth of vice, that is, as of a thing wor­thy to be discommended, and by them altogether to bee a­uoyded which desire humane felicitie: neither preuaileth it to say, that moral philosophie defineth that honour, where­vpon combat is grounded, for I haue proued vnto you, that the Moralist considereth nothing at all, nor neuer defineth this honor wherevpon combate is grounded, but onely that, which by beneficent action is acquired: fot this by waye of combat can neither be acquired, or preserued, as he foolish­ly affirmeth, as also it were to small purpose to say, that by Ethicks wee knowe, who is honorable, and who not: for al­though this be tru, yet is it not to be vnderstood by that ho­nor, wherof euery one maketh profession; but by that, which to a few is participated, being the reward of excellent acti­on, & a principal circumstāce of felicitie: for he that vnder­standeth such an action, vnderstandeth likewise who is wor­thy: and touching that he addeth, howe the Moralist in­treateth of iniurie; for repelling whereof combat is introdu­ced. I say, the consequence is nothing worth: for the Mo­ralist discourseth of iniuries for instruction, how to knowe the iust from the vniust, and not that such iniuries, are by combat to be repelled, seeing iniustice and iniurie is to [Page 144]be returned with iustice, as the lawes commaund, and not by vniust meanes, as is combate. But before you numbred the supportation of iniurie amongst vices, said Count Guydo, and not reuenging the same with proper valor. The Perepate­tike (answered Gualinguo) doth not spoile a man of affec­tions, like the Stoicke, for man being partaker of the sen­sitiue facultie, can not be insensible: but woulde, that with reason moderating them, he might reduce them to the state of mediocritie: it is therefore necessary, that a man in the same instant hee is offended, should be angry, and therefore at the same time it shall bee lawfull for him to make that re­uenge he can, and which honestie permitteth: which not doing, he runneth into the vice of stupiditie, or pusillanimi­tie (if wee may vse such wordes:) And if hee coulde not, replied Turchi at the same instant returne due reuenge, ey­ther through inequality of party, or some other impediment, to repell the iniury, and not seeme sottish, shall it not bee lawfull for him, to haue recourse to combate, and to attempt the recouery of honor, by his proper valor. It is not requisite for him, answered Gualinguo, to haue recourse to combate: for as I told you, he must not repell iniurie, with a meane vniust, but iust, according as the lawes commaund: Wherefore oc­casion once past, it is not conuenient, that in cold bloud, as we vsually say, he performe any other matter with his pro­per valor: for in such a case, the condition of the iniurier is far worse, than of him iniuried. How may it be said count Guido, that the offerer of iniurie, should be of worse conditiō in ho­nor, than he that receiueth it: I of my selfe following com­mon opinion, should haue beleeuéd the contrary: consider­ing the iniurier vsurpeth the honor of him iniuried, and ne­cessarily vrgeth him to recouery of the same. The conditiō of the iniuried is lesse wicked, said Gual: because, to receiue iniury, sheweth no more but impotencie, & is without vice: but to offer it, is a thing vitious, and blame-worthy, consider­ing he faileth in iustice, and therefore looseth his honor. In like maner, the receiuer of iniury looseth his honor, said Cal­cagnino) [Page 145]by failing in valor, and she wing himselfe worthy of contempt. To receiue iniurie, is not to faile in valor (answe­red Gualinguo) but so to receiue it, as thereof to make no iust reuenge. And what vnderstand you by iust reuenge, replied Calcagnino? And Gualinguo: the reuenge shalbe iust, when at the samē instant hee is offended, hee shall attempt to repell the iniurie with his proper valor: and it is iust, for he doth that, which by naturall and ciuill law, is permitted vn­to him, which make it lawfull, to repell force, with force: and when through inequalitie of partie, or other impedi­ment, he cannot performe this, hee is bound after the fact, to haue recourse to the magistrate, and by them to seeke re­uenge, rather then by combate, to the end that Magistrates, and lawes, see me not in Citties to be created in vaine. Hee that in such a case shuld runne to the Magistrate (said count Hercules) would giue notice of small valor, and shewe him­selfe worthy of contempt, and consequently, to be but slen­derly honored. No man remaineth dishonored (saide Gua­lenguo) but hee which offendeth against iustice, or fortitude, as wee haue said: therefore he which in receiuing iniurie, hath committed no vile fact, looseth not his honor, although afterwarde, he seek reuenge at the hande of the Magistrate: neither for this, doth he faile in valor, but he should faile in iustice, if contemning the lawes, and Magistrates, hee as­sayed reuenge of himselfe, and should attempt against the lawes. I beseech you tell mee vnfainedly, hee that goeth about to recouer his goods, and seeketh reuenge of the theefe, faileth hee in valor, hauing recourse to the Magi­strates? I know you will say hee doth not, because the laws so commaunde: and wherefore then would you haue him to faile, which assayeth to recouer his honour, and see­keth reuenge from the Magistrate, seeing the laws so com­maunde, and that they punish them seuerely, who attempt by any other meanes, as contemners of the Magistrates, and laws, which chastice with no lesse penalty impeachers of an­other mans honor, then the offence that theeues commit. [Page 146]Me thinkes sir Knight, said the count of Scandiano, you are contrarie to your selfe; for yesterday you saide, that a man of honor, ought by al meanes to repell iniurie, not to seeme worthy of contempt. & that he ought not only to enter into combat, but further was bound to maintain au vniust quar­rel, for the concealing of his defect, seeing honor is not lost before offences be reuealed: and now you would haue him seek recouerie of his honor, & reuenge not by his own pro­per valor, but from the hands of the magistrate: and there is no doubt, but relying on the worlds iudgement, hee that at­tempted to recouer honor, by this means should bee noted for vile & cowardlike. There is no contradictō in my words (answered Gualinguo) if in sinister sence they be not interpre­ted. I then said, and now affirme, that a man of honor ought by all meanes to endeuor to maintaine possession thereof: but aboue all, by iust means, as these be I haue here set down vnto you: and if they were not sufficient, through some euill custome, and that he were in danger to lose his honour, hee ought not refuse then to fight, notwithstanding the quarrel were vniust, & enter into the lists, if cōbat were in vse: & this is one of the principallest imperfectiōs, that this honor hath, by me rightly termed, imperfect; wherfore whosoeuer ther­of maketh professiō, he ought by right & wrong to procure the preseruation of it; as was yesterday sufficiently shewed: only Iwil say, that the moral philsopher determineth not of this honor, he being of himselfe, and alone, as a thing vn­perfect, hardly capable of humane felicitie, and conse­quently lesse ought to censure, or entreate of vniust com­bate, seeing vppon this, honour is altogeather gorunded, and hath his foundation.

You (replied the Counte Scandiano) euer terme Combate vniust, yet haue you made no demonstration of the iniustice thereof; and notwithstanding, this I haue seene, some places cited out of Aristotle by those that are learned, out of which they gather, that combate is iust, and ought to bee permitted: especially in the first of his Rhe­thoricke, [Page 147]where hee admitteth reuenge, which not beeing granted, saith hee, diuers inconueniences woulde ensue: and in the fift of his Moralles hee saith, that Cittizens must endeuour to repell offence, in that to suffer iniurie is a kinde of seruitude: And Homer whose poeme by opi­nion of the diuine Philosopher, is the seeing glasse of hu­mane life, and author of combate, maketh Paris and Mene­laus to fight hand to hand at defiance, as also Hector and Aiax, the which by Virgil & Ariosto hath bin obserued: nei­ther wanteth there of the grauest authors, who writing, labour to make it iust, and worthy to bee admitted, as a thing profitable to preseruation, and recouerie of honor, and to liue well in a Cittie amongst whom is Doctor Paris de puteo, and Posseuino, neither are their arguments to bee dispised, and for my part, I esteeme them preualent.

If by others, and especially by most learned Susiue, saide Gualinguo, it were not prooued against Doctor Pa­ris de puteo and Posseuino, that Combate is a thing most vn­iust, I would labour to make you conceiue the iniustice thereof, but this man hauing philosophically and learned­ly entreated thereof in a booke of his owne, intituled of the iniustice of Combate, referring you ouer to that, I will speake no further of it. Although excellent Susius, saide Beuelaqua, hath plentifully spoken thereof, as you say, yet wil it be acceptable to vnderstand also something from you in this point, seeing at this inslant we haue not Susius booke about vs. That you may not account me, luskish & ssothfull, said Gua. beholde I desire to gine you satisfaction. Combate, is repugnant to nature, & contrary to laws diuine, and ciuill: To Nature it repugneth, because shee entendeth genera­tion and preseruation; Combate to kil and destroy: it is con­trary to lawes diuine, and ciuill, because, neither by the one, or other law it is permitted, that a particular man shuld dispose, either of his own, or of another mans life: consi­dering that the law respecteth a particular man, not as of himselfe, but as belonging to the country & Prince, vnder [Page 148]whose dominion he is subiect. Secondly it is vniust, because it contendeth to prooue the vertue of the minde, with force and dexteritie of body; which meane is by it selfe insuffi­cient, for if with force of body the vertue of the mind, were necessarily conioyned, a country man or porter, or some o­ther more base, might easily be more honorable & vertuous then one noble. Thirdly, in combate the knowledge of truth and equitie, is referred to the arbitrement of fortune, a Iudge most vncertaine, and to the sword, depriued of reason: therefore it is vniust: neither auaileth it any thing to saye, that in combate God fauoureth the iust; for if that were true, he should neuer ouercome that had wrong on his side, and yet we see by experience, that the lier by being more strong and fortunate, hath ouercome him with truth on his side: so that to ordaine combat, is rather a tempting of God, then by such a meanes to draw from God iust iudgement. Finally, it was neuer by any common wealth accepted, or approued of, neither by any auncient State, that for cause of honor, or wants of proofe in investigation of truth, they should haue recourse to combate; nor Aristotle, Plato, or any o­ther philosopher, or Law-giuer, did euer approue or so much as know this monstrous maner of conflict: and although A­ristotle affirme, in the places by you cited, that reuenge ought to be made, & that supportation of iniury, is a kinde of serui­tude, yet he meaneth not this should be performed by an vn­iust meane, but by a meane iust, & as the laws command: for as it is not lawfull to recouer goods from the theese by pro­per force, so ought it not to be lawful by the same meanes to recouer honor: & no lesse in the one thē other case, we ought to haue recourse to the magistrate. Of the same opnion was Plato, for hee decreed in the eleuenth of his lawes, that the iniuried by wordes, shoulde not offend the iniurier, but ra­ther with modestie excuse himselfe, of the vice obiected vnto him: & in Crito: that we shuld not iniury others, thogh by them we had bin offended, for vpon what occasiō foeuer wee offend another, it is always euill done. In Gorgia hee [Page 149]sheweth howe wee shoulde serue our turnes with rhetoricall Arte, to accuse malefactors, that they might bee chastised. Out of which positions, this conclusion may be drawne, that the iniuried is not by himselfe to worke reuenge, seeing that would euer be but euill done, but to accuse the iniurier to the magistrate, who stands to preserue vniuersall good: What wil you answer, replied count Scand. to Paris de Puteo, who proueth the iustice of combate, from the vniuersall iustice of warre, by God permitted, as wee reade in so many places of the scripture by him cited: as also the reasons of Posseuino, who affirmeth, that Combate is lawfull, seeing by that meanes a man may recouer the most pretious of al other goods, which is honor. Paris de Puteo, answered Gualinguo, was a good do­ctor, in his profession, of the Lawe, although he were some­what harsh in expressing his conceits, and was the first that aduaunced this argument of Combate, giuing precepts ther­of: not withstanding, enclining to euill custome, hee laboured to shew, that combate had in it some poynt of iustice: but he reasoning from vniuersall warre, to this particular battaile, which wee call Combate, cannot formally conclude: seeing this, not only is not comprehended vnder that general kind, but is further from it, altogether diuerse: And therefore we must obserue, that generall warre is lawfull, for no other re­spect, but because men are not placed vnder the gouerne­ment of one Prince alone, neyther are all states gouerned by the selfe same lawes; for if it were otherwise, it shoulde not be lawfull for one people, to warre against another: neither for augmentation of state or any other occasion, considering that by the highest Prince, Law, and Iustice, euery differêce would be determined, and if any people or citrie should at­tempt to right themselues by armes, as contemners of the Laws, and rebels to the Prince, they should be incontinent­ly punished; but for that the dominion of the earth is diui­ded into diuerse principallities, they hauing no superiours, make Mars Iudge of their controuersies, and put ouer their right to Armes: Warre is therefore lawfull, for want of a [Page 150]publike reuenger of iniuries, & therfore God commaunded his chosen people, that they should take vp armes, for their defence, & slay their enemies, minding they should be mini­sters of diuine iustice. But this battell performed betweene two particular men, shall neuer be lawfull, which we do call Combate. Seeing particular men, haue a Prince, lawe, and magistrates, whome it concerneth to reuenge iniuries, and determine controuersies, which may fall out betwixt parti­cular men. And if Posseuino had saide, that Combate is an vn­lawfull and vniust meane to recouer honor, he had well spo­ken: For combate offendeth the magistrate, and contemnes the lawes: they entring into combate carrying this mind, to reuenge iniurie with their proper hand, & by a wicked and insufficient meane to attempt, the finding out, and proofe of truth, not considering that the lawes and magistrates, take order for men iniurious and liars. And yet combate as a thing lawfull, said Count Alfonso, hath beene granted euen by the hie priest himselfe, as we reade of Pope Martine, who per­mitted that two brothers, who had broght into the field two armies face to face, should betweene them two performe the combate, committing vnto the hand, sworde, and most vn­certaine lotte, the title of that principallitie, whereof be­twixt them selues they contended. And further, they which make Combate lawfull, are of opinion, that it may be gran­ted, when by other meane we can not attaine to knowledge of truth, as if combate were lawful in the same nature, as are those kindes of torments, wherewith the Criminalists serue their turne, to make malefactors confesse.

Combat was iustly permitted by Pope Martine, between those brethren, said Gualinguo, as also that in Spaine. between two coosins allowed by Scipio, who contended about princi­pallities: and no lesse iust were the conflicts of the Horatij & Curiatij, and it may euer be lawfull to put twoo mens liues in danger, for preseruation of a thousand others: But it can nei­ther be a thing honest nor iust, to search out truth, by way of combate; for it is a most fallacious proof, in that the liar, may [Page 151]vanquish as well as the other with trueth on his side. What is to be done then, said Count Guido, when wee cannot attayne to knowledge of trueth? That which the lawes command, answered Gualinguo, which is, the Defendant to be free, when the Plaintife cannot prooue, either by witnesse, writings, or some other faithfull testimoniall; and these failing, other proofe is no way requifite, or vpon this to vndertake Com­bate. Put we the case, replied Calcagnino, that one call an o­ther traitor, or obiect vnto him, that he hath committed som one of those malefacts, that depriue of honor, and the other denieth it with a lie, what ought the iniurier in this case to do? He is bound, answered Gualinguo, to auerre his saying, as before you haue vnderstood, and not so doing, he remaineth infamous, as a liar, vniust, and an impeacher of another mans honor: and the Defendant standeth stil in his first degree of honor: neither neede he vpon this to enter the listes: and if he answered (added Calcagnino) to the lie, with a box on the care, or any other blow, would not this be sufficient proofe of his saying: He should not onely (said Gualinguo) not proue it, but auouching it by no other testimoniall, shoulde re­maine tainted with double infamie: For besides being a false slaunderer, he shoulde be an iniurier by deedes, and before I shewed you, that they which iniurie others, faile in iustice, and are infamous. They notwithstanding that intreate of Combate, saide Count Hercules, haue set it downe for a cer­taine rule, that iniury in words is taken away by the iniury of deed, and that a lie is satisfied with a box on the eare, or any blow with what thing else soeuer, they alleaging this propo­sition for a maime, vnto which no answer can be made, that one iniury, by another greater than that is clean taken away, and that the iniurie of deedes is greater then that of wordes: and this in such a sort is obserued for custome, that it is impossible, or at the least very difficult, to introduce any o­ther lawe, amiddest these termes of honor. It is no maruell, answered Gualingno, if those that intreate of combate, can­not speake with any foundation of reason: for necessarily [Page 152]from a matter vniust, many poynts vniust, and vnreasonable must needes proceede: wherefore these men desirous to ma­nage points of honour with combate, and euil custome, haue supplanted the lawes of honor, and multiplied abuses. I say therefore, that this supposition, that the iniurie of deedes is greater than that of wordes, is not onely, not alwayes true, but further for the most part false, seeing one may bee more diffamed by burdensome and opprobrious wordes, than by the iniury of deedes. As for example: he shal remaine more dishonored that swalloweth vp the terme of Traitour, mur­derer, or any such like brutish speach, without making re­uenge, then shall another that takes the Bastanado, a box on the eare, a blow, or any such like iniurie of deede: for not to attempt reuenge of a blowe or bastanado, notes smal valour, and impotencie, but yet is without vice: but closely to digest the name of a traitor or murderer, carrieth with it, not onely note of vility, but supposeth the vice in him iniuried, obiect­ed vnto him by the iniurier, and therefore such an one shalbe much more infamous. It may be prooued also by this other reason, that contumelious wordes are apter to impeach an o­ther mans honor, then deedes. For as they affirme, who en­treate of combate, there is not so grieuous an iniurie indeed, which with words may not be lenified: which could not be, if wordes were not much more effectuall, as wel in ablation, as restitution of honor. It should seeme to be a common o­pinion, said Count Scandiano, that the iniurie of deedes can­not be remooued by wordes: as also it carrieth some reason: for can wordes take away a bastanado or blowe, and howe shuld they effect, that the scarres remain nor in the receuers visage, to his perpetual dishonor? Wherefore there be some, who in making peace perswade the iniuriers by deede, that they make no account to vtter some submissiue or dastard like speach, for conclusion of peace, and satisfying of him in­iuried: they alleadging, that feathers and wordes, are carri­ed away with the winde, but deedes continue euerlastingly. Such like men little vnderstand the lawe of honor, answered [Page 153]like men little vnderstand the law of honor (answered Gua­lenguo) seeing there is not so greiuous an iniurie of deed, which by words may not be mittigated, the which wordes, though they cannot take away scarres in the body or face, yet are they of force to wipe out the spot of infamie, and to retúrne it vpon the iniurier, as for example: if the iniurying in deedes, shall alleadge vnto the imuried: I confesse I haue committed an vniust act, in strikeing you, seeing you are not a person worthy of contempt, and I humbly require pardon of you, with other such like wordes: who seeth not that the iniuried (in respect of honor) by such wordes, re­maineth in farre better condition then the iniurier.

And what thinke you of that other conclusion (saide Turcho) that one iniurie is taken away by another greater then that? This other conclusion (answered Gualinguo) hath beene an occasion to multiplie insolencies in men, making them prooue rather infamous then honorable. Wherefore I say vnto you, that iniurie in wordes, is properly by words remooued, and improperly by deeds: and in like manner, he which iniurieth by wordes, properly taketh it away by wordes and witnesse, and improperly by deedes: as if one should call me traitor, with the lie I properly take away the iniurie, but if without the lie, I strike or wound him, I im­properly returne the iniurie: for by this meanes I deny not that I am a traytor, neither vrge him to prooue his saying, although after a certaine manner, I manifest him a man worthy of contempt: and therefore he may leaue the first, and betake himselfe to the second quarrell as iust, by saying: I will proue vpon thee that I am not a man of contempt, & that thou hast vniustly done to strike mee, in which quarrel ouercoming, the other shall be also conuinced of treason: in like manner he improperly, and foolishly retourneth the lie, with a box on the eare, the which, or any other blow, though in a certaine sorte, it noteth him strucken, worthy of contempt, yet doth it not proue or verifie the saying of him, who hath iniuried by wordes: in that a box on the eare, or a [Page 154]blowe, is not sufficient proofe to shew that one is a traitour: but rather it plainely testifieth, that the committer of suche an act, is a most vniust man, a great iniurier, and wounder of another mans honour: so that they which sette downe these conclusions, haue spoken, not altogether sincerely, follow­ing rather, as I haue saide, wicked custome, than direct rea­son, and haue beene, as also now are, the occasions of great inconueniences: for if it were not in vse, to retourne the lie with a blowe, there would be but few iniuriers by wordes, it being hard to find words enow, to auerre wordes iniurious, and not proouing them, he should continue infamous.

You sir Knight, said Beuelacqua, haue with sufficient sin­ceritie declared, that Combate is an Vniust thing, contrary to humane felicitie: as also, that it is not grounded vppon true, but imperfect honor: and that the Philsopher in poli­tike customes, cannot intreate thereof, but as of a vice, to the end, that by the vertuous man, it may be abhorred. It rest­eth that you here declare, whom the treatie heere of did con­cerne, if it were in vse: and this wil serue greatly to purpose, seeing in doubtfull cases of honor, we shall know whither to haue recourse for counsell. Without doubt (answered Gua­linguo,) and (bee it spoken with leaue of your countrieman Pigna and Posseuino) the argument of Combate is proper to the Ciuilian, and not to the morall Philosopher, as hee is a Moralist: and this I wil manifest vnto you, by infallible ar­guments: And first, the Cruilian intendes that honor, wher­of euery one maketh profession, vppon which Combate is grounded: For the lawes punish detractors from other mens honors: and in like manner, declare who are infamous, cha­sticing many offences with the punishment of infamie: Se­condarily, combate is either by law (as it appeareth by the law of Lombardy) or else by custom: the Ciuilian is he which intendeth laws and customs, and ruleth and ordaineth them: Thirdly, the termes which in combate are vsed and expres­sed, are proper to the Ciuilian, and by him are defined, and considered, as assailant, defendant, quarrel, billes of chalenge, [Page 155]to prouoke, maintaine, and such like, therefore combate is proper to the Ciuilian: Fourthly, the bill and quarrel which by meane of Combare direct to the tribunall of armes, hath the selfe same proportion, and like rules, as hath the Booke and action, which direct to the seate of Iustice: the Ciuilian therefore beeing he that censureth the Booke and action in place of iudgement, it is as conuenient that he scame the bil, and order the quarrel by combate, in it expressed: Fiftly, the Ciuilian determineth all maner of iniuries, as well by deede as word, hauing respect to the conditiō of the persons, place, and time; for repelling of which iniuries, Combate is intro­duced, therefore Combate is a subiect appropriate vnto the Ciuilian: Sixtly, the Ciuilian is he that pronounceth and de­cideth, whether the quarrell deserueth to be put to triall of armes; for when we may vnderstand by other meane, who is honorable, and who dishonorable, it is not lawfull to come to combate: Last of all, the Ciuilians be they, that intreate and ordaine, touching all sortes of torments vsed for inuesti­gation of trueth; combate therefore being (as the same wri­ters thereof affirme) a kind of torment to find out the truth, when by other mean it cannot be knowne, it wil follow, that to intreate & order wel combate, belongeth to the Ciuilian.

Though so many and firme reasons were not sufficient to perswade, yet common vse & experience might serue the turne; seeing ordinarily in occasions of combate, the Comba­tants were wont to be aduised by Doctors of the lawe, as ap­peareth by the sundry opinions of most excellent Ciuilians, which are yet in Print; besides those good Authours that haue intreated of combate, were Ciuilians, as doctor Paris de Puteo, and Mutius, who alwayes vsed iuridicall termes, pro­positions, & suppositions, agreeable to the proper argument and matter by them handled; so that Posseuino and Pigna nee­ded not haue saide, that the Lawyers vsurped to themselues this matter of Combate, belonging properly to Polliticke customes; for, besides that wee haue conuinced them, they themselues intreating of it morally, haue runne into inexcu­sable [Page 156]errors, and infallibly prooued, that the argument of combate, concerneth not the Moralist, but the Ciuillian. Me thinkes saide Count Scandiano, that this treatise more befitteth a Souldier then a Roabed man, seeing vnto him bookes bee proper, and the management of armes to the Souldier; first because combate is borne between the sound of trumpet and drum: secondly in that the souldier deter­mining of generall warre, and discipline militarie, he may the better likewise, dilate of warre single, and particular, for so is combate: considering that vnder the vniuersall the particular is comprehended. Souldiers according to their principles can not discourse of combate, answered Gualinguo, because the precepts, wherewith warre generall is rused, are wholly contrarie to combate. Art militarie, in generall war, ordaineth all aduantage, approoueth all oddes and inequi­tie, as well in the number of men, as of armes, and places vantagious for battaile: and commendeth him that can sub­due, by all manner of stratageme, policie, and deceit; wher­as in single fight, we detest all aduantage and subtiltie, and seeke equalitie, to the ende, victorie may only depend on proper valor; but further, combate not only doth not aduāce, but iniurieth also profession militarie, and therefore by it ought not only, not to be directed, but further wholly ex­cluded: for combat causeth seditions, maketh souldiers in­solent, and disobedient to the magistrates of the field, which by the same militarie art, were ordained for to determine all differences and brawles, which fall out among souldiers: to the end, that peace maintained betwixt friendes, they might with greater valor make warre Vpon the enemie; and there­fore the Romanes did not onely punish those, which durst fight singly amongst themselues, but thē also, who without consent of the magistrate performed combat with the ene­mie, as we reade of Manlius Torquatus, who caused his victo­rious forme to be strucken with a cimeter, hauing performed combat with an enemie, without licence from the magi­strate. But leauing examples, & comming to common prac­tise [Page 157]and vse, lette vs see whether the probleames and con­clusions, which by combate are determined, haue any si­militude with the other of profession military, and generall warre.

In combate it is determined betwixt the assailant and de­fendant, of iniuries and oppression, as wel in words, as deeds: of the lie, of the forme of bills, of the maner of sending these bils, of challenge, of laying out the field, according to forme of patent: and further, many other questions are discussed, as, whether the quarel deserue to be referred to proof of armes, if after the defiance vpon any sodaine occasion wee may re­fuse to come to battel, whether a man halfe subdued, and by a lie hauing the better of the field, may demaund a new day: who ought to be admitted to combate, and who not, of the election of Armes, whether one may fight by his champi­on, of the difference of nobilitie, as well in priuate men, as in great states and princes, with other such like poynts. In generall warre, it is principally discussed, how to set an army in order to fight, the maner of arming it for obtaining of vi­ctory, in what order they are to mooue forward, and march with the army, and how, and in what situation they are to take vp their lodging, and after what manner to fortifie and entrench, to prepare and conuoy victuall, to raise fortificati­ons, of the manner how to defend and assaile, of stratagems, or as we may say, of militarie deceits, with other like poynts, the which are altogether diuerse from those which in Com­bate are decided; and therefore we must conclude, that soul­diers, as beeing souldiers, may well manage armes and per­forme combate, but not dispose of it, according to principles of military profession. Fortitude being the principall ver­tue of souldiers, said Beuelacqua, & in combate aswel the for­titude of the body as minde beeing exercised, I woulde also haue thought, that it had properly appertained to souldiers to define of combate, especially, hauing seene in Print, di­uerse opinions touching the same, of famous and woorthy Captaines, who are reputed amongst the chiefest and best: [Page 158]and further, I saw in France while I was residēt in the court, that vpon question and difference of honour, Gentlemen rather repaired to souldiours then Doctors, accepting of their opinions, as they had beene oracles. That fortitude practised in Combate (answered Gualinguo) is not the same which is the propper vertue of Arte Militarie: beecause that with vertue, and this being farre remote from iustice, is accompanied with vice: and therefore wee may truely say, that in combate wee rather practise force and dexterity of bodie, then that fortitude, which is a vertue of the minde. Touching your hauing seene Captaines write, discourse, and intreate of poyntes of honour and combate, yeelding there­in their iudgements, this concludeth not that it is a proper office belonging to that Art; for they do this by a certaine practise and naturall iudgement, or peraduenture, as men not only in warre, but also in other disciplines experienced. By those reasons therefore wee haue alleadged, and others which to them wee mind to adde, the error of Posseuino shall be cleare vnto you, who vainely excludeth Lawyers from the subiect of combate: and you shall obserue, that by Law­yers or Ciuilians, I vnderstand not law giuers: for they be­ing most wise, and creating lawes, as inspired by a diuine spi­rit, cannot make any one law, which shall not bee most iust and godlie: and therefore these ought, not only, not to dis­cusse of Combate, but euen wholly to exclude it, as Vniust: But by Lawyers, I meane, those that interpret, counsell, and iudge according to the lawes, vnto whom the treatie ther­of out of doubt apperrameth, as also to dispose of Com­bate, if it were in vse: and likewise to counsell in poyntes belonging to that honour, whereupon Combate is groun­ded.

And this shal be the better known vnto vs, if we do but cō ­sider the termes, questions, & rules, which about Combat are frequēted: For we shal find thē either the self same, or altogi­ther like them, which the lawyers haue euery day in hand. And as for the persons that enter into combate, who can de­ny [Page 159]that the termes of assailant & defendant (as we haue said) be not properly belonging to Lawiers? and that the Lawier doth not declare, who is the assailant, and who the defen­dant, as also what is the office of the assailant, and what be­longeth to the defendant. And comming to the billes; who will deny, that they carying, with them the similitude of those bookes that aduocates carry in their handes, belong not to Lawiers to be prescribed and framed, they differing in no other respect, but that in the bil, honor is demaunded, and in the booke, goods, and many times also honour: and that the bill citeth the defendant, to the tribunall of armes, and the booke to the tribunall of the lawes and magistrate? then passing ouer to laying out of the fielde, what is this lay­ing out of the fielde, but the electing of some spatious place, where the strife is to bee determined, about which if any question arise, who is to decide it but the Lawier? who like­wise is alwais he, that giueth sentence, whether the Iudge be competent or no. In Combate iniuries are debated, which be opprobrious, and which not: And who can better distin­guish of this then the Lawier, who hath iustice for his pro­per obiect, and whose propertie it is to consider all kindes of iustice, and iniustice, and consequently of iniuries, which bee the principall, part of iniustice? Neither Posseuino nor Pigna would deny me, if they were liuing, that it concer­ned the magistrate, to distribute punishment towards those that are iniurious: and if this bee true, how could hee make iust distribution if he knewe not, and did not distinguish all kindes of iniury. In combate the lie is discussed, and que­stion mooued, which is a preualent lie, and which none: & this appertaineth to the lawier; for the magistrate punisheth lying, and especially that which to another mans losse and reproach, is tolde, and therefore it is necessary hee vnder­stand which is preualent, and which not, for the preualent lie is giuen as stirred vp by an iniury, and therefore is ex­empted from punishment, if hee to whom it is giuen, proue not his obiection true: and the insufficent lye is that which [Page 160]is not giuen vpon receit of an iniury, and because in this case it sauoureth of iniurie, as accusing his aduersarie of slander, it ought therefore to be punished.

In combat the first of any other thing, it is debated, whe­ther the quarrell deserue to be put to trial of armes; and this is proper to the Ciuilian: first, because the determination of such questions is contained in the Lombard law: second­ly, for that the Lawyer is he that iudgeth, whether the ciuil triall of the cause made, were sufficient or no: for if it were sufficient proofe of armes ceaseth: in combate, the disparitie and inequality of the combatants is called into question, and who may be admitted, who refused: and this is also a discus­sion belonging to the Lawyer: For he being conuersant, not onely about iustice commutatiue, but also concerning that distributiue, being no other but to distribute punishment, and rewardes, with geometricall proportion, of necessitie he must needs know those offences that make an other wor­thy of chasticement and infamy: as likewise the actions, that are meritorious of reward and honor; and consequently, that he determine who ought to be refused as infamous, and who as honourable to be admitted to the triall of armes: in com­bate also is debated the distinctions of Nobilitie, as well of priuate men as of Princes: and this also belongeth to the Ci­uilian, who respecteth the degrees and qualities of persons, to distribute iustly and with proportion, reward, and punishment. Those rules also, which in combate are obserued, are proper to the Ciuilians, being the selfe-same that are obser­ued in ciuil iudgements. In combate this is obserued: that after the chalenge is accepted, it is not lawful for the comba­tants to offend one another, but in the determined day of battell: this precept is like to that which saith, during the sute let there be no innouation of any thing, and whosoeuer disturbeth the possessor, the sute stil hanging, is intended to be fallen from all his right and title: in combate is this other poynt: that he which appeareth not in the field on the day prefixed for battel, is intended to haue lost his whole inter­est: [Page 161]and this also is decided by the Ciuilians, who say that allawes exclame against the man stubburne and contuma­cious.

This other rule is also auerred, that the day and time of battaile expired, and the assailant not proouing, the defen­dant is intended to be victor, this being likewise a maxime with the Ciuilians, the lawe affirming, that the assailant not prouing, in the prefixed and instant time, the defendant is absolued. To conclude, there is not any thing in combate, which doth not resemble those poynts handled in the lawes. Proceede no further, saide Count Alfonso Turchi, because now wee are sufficiently satisfied, that in doubtes, I will not say, appertaining to Combate (seeing God bee thanked) it is no more in vse, but pertaining to the honour, whereof euery one maketh profession, wee must haue recourse to the Ciuilian, and not to the Moralist, the honour whereof hee entreateth, beeing from this very diuerse. Notwith­standing the vse of combate bee taken away, sayde Count Guido) yet are neyther brawles, nor tumultes remooued, which euery day bee stirred vppe, with great effusion of bloud: the which, in that by combate they can not bee defi­ned, there is an other inuention diabolicall enough found out, which is not Combate, and that is the field, whither Gentlemen of honor oftentimes runne to decide their quar­rels with armes: And this manner of fighting is now in such vse, as I am doubtfull, whether a man of honor offered the field, may refuse without presumption of cowardise. As in Ciuil iudgements (sayde Gualinguo) the defendant is not bound to answere the plaintife, except there be compotent court and Iudge assigned him, so that defendant, who to the Tribunall of Armes is cited, neede not there appeare, without a secure field and Iudge: and refusing, hee ought not onely, not to be held as a Coward, but further, a man of honour: For it is proper to the eues, murtherers, and ruffi­ans to fight in wooddes and solitary places, and for Gen­tlemen of honour, to performe battaile, in the presence [Page 162]of Princes, and many knights, to whose iudgement the Combatants referre themselues. And from those Lordes in the field, they receiue (as from competent Iudges, the pa­tent of their victorie, and in what maner they haue subdued. Necessity maketh many things lawfull which are vnlawfull, (added Calcagnini) and there is no doubt, but if combate were in vse, the field might lawfully be refused: but not being a­ble by other meanes then this to ende quarrels, it seemeth the iniuried, which is Assailant, hath in a certaine sort dis­charged his honor, when hee hath vrged the fielde of his de­fendant, & the defendant not accepting of it, he incurreth su­spition of timidity and slender valour: and touching the cir­cumstance of a secure iudge and field: what better iudge, or truer testimoniall of victory can there be, then the sword? For to returne from Battaile with the sword bloudy, and vnwounded, noteth that Combatant victorious: and on the contrary, to remaine dead, or greeuously wounded, is a signe of vanquishment: Moreouer, combatants go not into the fielde alone by themselues, but for securitie, each one carri­eth with him a confident friend, of vnspotted fidelity, or some Gentleman of honour, who after performance, giueth testimony of the valour and victory of the Combatants.

The sword (replied Gualingno) cannot be a sincere testimo­ny, nor a iust iudge, for we see, that he mortally wounded, hath first before his death taken prisoner his enemie, and the Confidents, by being each of them partial to their Champi­on, are not faithfull testimonies of valour and victorie: and we see by experience, that seldome times they carry in mind the circumslances of the conflict, in recounting the fact: vp­pon which afterwards questions haue risen, and fresh quar­rels, both betwixt them, as also betweene the Champions: So that in any wise the field is to be auoyded, being contra­ry to all law, and ancient custome of Knighthood, apt rather to frame new, then to take vp old quarrels. What must we then do, sayd Beuelacqua) is it necessary we continue alwaies in Bralles, finding no meane to determine them? Not so [Page 163](answered Gualinguo) but they must be decided, as diuine and humane lawes commaund, that is, peaceably, and so, as honour by them may be restored, who haue vsurped it. As this is a most singular and religious mean, so comprehendeth it verie great difficulty, saide Scandiano; for in peace nothing else being sought after, then to reduce the parties to equali­tie, or that such a peace should be effected, as that the iniu­ried, and the iniurying, might remaine equally possessed of honour: bee it not therefore troublesome vnto you Sir knight, discoursing yet somewhat further, to deliuer also in this poynt your iudgement and opinion.

THere were some most graue and ancient phi­losophers, thrise excellent Queene, so great contemners of Nobilitie, as they constantly affirmed it to bee no other, then a light blast of ambition, wherewith same Citi­zens more mightie then the rest, were puffed [Page 186]vp: and if notwithstanding there were any such thing, in the worlde, it was no whit at all distinguished from vertue, but that the man vertuous and noble, was all one and the selfe same thing: vpon which point hauing meditated, and be­ing to discusse of Nobilitie, not to perplexe the minde and vnderstanding of the attendant, I will deuide this my briefe discourse into three partes. First, I will shew what Nobility is, and where it consisteth; in the second, I will set downe the principall reasons of those philosophers, who contemne it as a thing vaine and fantasticall: and in the third, I will make answere, and resolue them, to the end our Nobilitie may remaine most noble and apparent. I supposing there­fore, that in certaine indiuidualles of humane kinde, there shineth an excellent qualitie which is termed Nobilitie, af­firm, that it is, no other, then a good of fortune, that happen­eth to man in his first originall and birth, procured vnto him, by the honorable repuration of his predecessors, and glorie of his countrie: by meanes of which it is worthyly supposed, that he is much more capable and appliant vnto vertue, then another can be, borne of mechanicall parents, in a countrie obscure. This by a most proper terme, was by the Grecians called Eugenia, which signifieth liberall and good birth, or originall; conformable to that worde, wee vsealso, to call them noble, well borne. I haue affirmed no­bilitie to be a good of fortune, not because nature therein hath no part, but in that, as the Philosopher teacheth, for­tune of those thinges is saide to be the occasion, which fall out contrarie to the intention of the worker; being therfore nature intentiō in framing man, to make a reasonable crea­ture, & not one noble, of reasō nature is the cause, & fortune of nobility. And I haue placed in the definition, that other clause, honorable reputation of his predecessors, as a diffe­rence specificall, which distinguisheth this good called No­bilitie, from all other goods externall, as likewise the last wordes of all, are by me set downe, to expresse in this defi­nition, not only the cause materiall, formall, and effi­cient, [Page 187]but also the finall: in that Nobilitie, is for no other re­spect, by all men had in price and estimation, but only be­cause he noble seemeth borne with a better inclination, and disposition vnto verrue, then a plebeyan, or one extracted from the common sorte. He therefore shall bee esteemed more apt vnto vertue, and shall be called truly noble, who legitimately descendeth, from men, and women excellent, & famous, either for riches, or those things that most among mē are esteemed, & that shall haue had many of his race in euery age, & of each sex, honorable & renouned, or that shal bee borne in a Cittie built and replenished, with men heroi­call, and glorious: where vppon the greater haue beene the number of his commendable progenitors, the more noble shall he be. Neuerthelesse, hee may bee called absolutely noble, who shall haue lost the memory of his ignobilitie, which memorie remaineth, during the reuolution of three generations: and let this spoken suffice, to make knowne, that neither riches, nor sumptuous vestimentes make a man noble, but further it is necessarie, that the renowne of his progenie, therevnto concurre: for hee borne of mechanicall parentes, although neuer so rich, cannot come within the compasse of this definition: which defi­nition, notwithstanding it bee well grounded, yet by some Philosophers, and especially by the Stoickes, it is al­together derided, whose reasons hauing foundation vpon great probabilitie, are in no sorte to bee contemned; They say therefore, that all wee springing from a common roote, which is God, principall goodnes, and highest nobility; euery one, though vulgarly extracted, is noble, when not degenerating from his first progenitor, hee practiseth vertue: whereas on the contrarie, hee is truly ignoble, who, notwithstanding hee descended from the auncient Heroes, degenerating, addicteth himselfe to vice: as Boetius affirmeth in some of his verses: which in our tong, sound after this manner.

And Seneca principall of the family of Stoickes, writeth these formal words: All men haue the same originall and be­ginning, none is more noble than another; but hee that hath the better disposition, and apter wit to Artes, and Sciences liberall: They that place vppon the gates, or forefronts of their houses, for prospectiue, the armes, and colours of their ancients, are rather by these noted, than made noble. And the same Author saith: Vertue found not Plato, either noble or reuerend, but it so made him. Of the same opini­on was Epycharmus the Philosopher and Poet, saying:

And Euripides:

And Socrates demaunded who was noble, answered: he that is temperate of minde and body. Vnto which saying Dant being conformable, affirmeth: ‘Where vertue is, there Gentrie sure takes place.’

[Page 189]Furthermore they alleadge: Nature is a kind mother to all, and a stepmother to none, neither shutteth shee vp the way of vertue, more to one than another: but maketh euery one apt to attaine to his proper end, which is felicity: neither doth Scythia, or any other barbarous region, preiudice mans soule; but which is more, if the world were eternall, we are equally placed, in the same course and way of eternitie. If that had his beginning from our first Father (as no doubt but it had) we al likewise from the same first father haue our be­ginning and originall: which being true, it is madnesse to af­firme that one offpring is more noble then another: and they who puffed vp with vaine ambition, boast of Nobilitie, may rather be called fooles, than men noble; they argue also from the inconueniences that would ensue, if nobilitie were grounded on the honor of progenie: for first it would fol­low say they, that the first vertuous man of a familie, he re­maining ignoble, should be the foundation of an other mans nobilitie, a thing repugnant vnto reason; for then that axi­ome, by al the Vniuetsities confirmed, should be false, which is this: Whatsoeuet is the cause, that any other thing is as it is, must much more be the same it selfe: as for example: if fire be the cause that all things haue heate, that of al other must needes be hote. Neyther preuaileth it to alledge, that the like happeneth to him who is the beginning of Nobili­tie, as doth to the poynt with vnitie: considering, that thogh the one being the beginning of quantitie continuall, and the other of discreete quantitie, yet is there neyther continuall quantitie found in the poynt, nor quantitie discreete in v­nitie: for nobilitie which is a qualitie of humane excellence, hath nothing to doe with poynt, nor vnitie, which are in a diuerse kinde: as further than this, vnitie is comprehended in number; considering that without, one, there can not be twenty, neither can the line, superficies, or body, be without poynt, whereupon in the number of many men noble, that cause nobility, he first must necessarily be comprehended, who ought to be so much more noble than others, in that he [Page 190]was the author of nobilitie, & renowne of al the others. And moreouer, it would followe quite contrary to the rule of the Ciuilians, that one might giue to another, that which he hath not himselfe: and that he being obscure, might reach honor to another, a thing altogether disproportionable, and dissen ting from reason: It is not therefore to be said, that nobilitie proceeds from antiquity of bloud: for if that were so, the say­ing of that holy man should be tru, that nobilitie were alied to brickes and tiles, seeing our originall also is of the earth. Last of all, they vrge that saying of Aristotle, that the begin­ning is the halse of the whole; which being true how should not he be noble, that is the beginning of an other mans no­bilitie, if on him alone depend the scope and end of all no­bility? with these & other such like reasons, those wise men conclude, that nobilitie cannot be the renowne of progenie: but that by vertue of it selfe it is fashioned: in confirmation of which opinion Dant sayth: ‘That only he is excellent, who by himselfe doth shine.’

But notwithstanding all this. I am of opinion, that our conclusion, and definition of nobility is true, and the reasons of these Philosophers vaine, and sophisticall, which at the first sight appeare to be of no small moment. First therfore obserue we, that as terms and bounds manifest that to sense, where of any one is possessour, so definition (called of the Graecians by a most proper name Orismi) which in our tong importes bounds or termes, procure intellect distinctly to conceiue the proper essence, of euery thing, vnto which the Perepateticke hauing had an eye, of all Philosophers the most sedulous, laboured, vndoubtedly with admirable me­thode, of althings to finde out the definitions, considering that this is the true foundation of Sciences, it administring the middle terme to perfect demonstration, as the Logici­ans very wel effect: As therfore al things in our mind by de­finition, are wel ordained, & distinguished, so from the same minde definition remoued, there is procured a most notable [Page 191]confusion altogether like that, which in the beginning of the world, the Poets fabulosly called Chaos: Therfore it was an o­pinion of the diuine philosopher in Phedro, aproued by Ci­cero, in the first of his Offices, that they who would entreate of any thing, should beginne from the definition: which being true, as it is, so they that haue intreated of matters with out defining them, haue rather bred in the mindes of others grosse ignorance, then distinct & absolute knowledge. See­ing that from good definition the solution of all doubtes which occurre in science springeth. Into this error many an­cient Philosophers, and diners moderne writers are fallen: and amongst others, touching this subiect we now haue in hande, the error of Mutius Iustinopolitane, (a witte que­stionlesse verie rare) is inexcusable: who refusing the Phi­losophers definition of Nobilitie, hath himselfe thereof giuen no definition at all, which may make it distinct in kinde, from other things: wherefore, labouring to shewe contradiction and error in Aristotle, hee hath discouered himselfe to bee but vaine, and rather a professor of the lawes, then a good Philosopher. But further, lette vs ob­serue lines, which beginning from one center, extende to the circumference in the same center, & are both one thing, and diuers: so al things created, as from God they take their beginning, bee all one, but in respect to diuers formes they be ordained, they bee diuers. If wee therefore consider things created in their beginning, which is God, not on­ly men, as these wise men affirme, but all other thinges also, are equally good, noble, and excellent: but if wee consider them according to their exterior formes and kinds, they are betweene themselues verie diuers: and therefore the Philosopher in his Diuine Philosophie, sayth, that kindes bee like numbers, minding to inferre, that as numbers in vnitie bee the selfe same thing, neither dooth the one exceede the other in perfection, but when from vnitie they are seperate, and fashioned in kinde, one is then more perfect and excellent then another. So all the [Page 192]kindes of things, in their beginning are the same, but once framed into forme, are diuers: further more let vs note (and from hence groweth the error of the Stoicke, and his follo­wers) that this bountie, excellence, and this their originall Nobility, as by proper vertue it cannot be acquired, so may it not by vice bee lost, and therefore Lucifer considered in his first instant nature, is no lesse perfect and noble then o­ther angels: for his sinne doth not procure, but as other an­gels, so he hath had his originall from God. Which errour they had very wel preuented if they had beene circumspect, and sought after the definition of Nobilitie, which is an e­steemable condition, that in some indiuidualles of humane kinde is found: for willing to haue defined it, they should not haue saide, that Nobilitie was an excellent qualitie in al things created, depending on their beginning which is god, the father of all thinges, and that in those thinges it is pre­serued, when they abandon not the first roote and stocke, nor practise not Vice: for they might haue perceiued, that in this definition, there is a notable error, and most speciall in­conuencience; the error is, that they hauing to define a par­ticular qualitie, which in humane kinde is obserued, defi­ned a common qualitie, which is not onely found in diuers kindes, but also in many things differing more thē in kinde: the inconuenience is great, for if their definition were good, an Asse should bee of farre better condition, then man: in whom as neither vertue, nor vice can concurre, so could he neuer degenerate from his first stocke & original; and so consequently, should euer bee noble: as on the con­trarie, a man sometimes vertuous, sometimes vitious, should now be noble, and anone after ignoble. Mutius saith, that Nobilitie consisteth in perfection in kinde, determining to inferre, that those thinges which in their kinde are perfect, bee truly noble: the which beeing true, that creature from whose flesh the Iews abstaine, being perfect, might be num­bred amongst those noble: he addeth afterward, as greatly in himselfe perplexed, that althogh he descended from ancient [Page 193]linage be noble, yet is not he so discended, only noble, for by this meanes, saith he, we shuld infringe the power of nature and vertue, that they coulde not generate a new nobilitie. Mutius therefore contendeth to proue, that there be three sortes of nobilitie: of the first, conformable to the Perepa­teticke, hee maketh antiquitie of bloud the auther; of the second, nature, drawing neere to Seneca, who affirmeth in the place by mee cited, that he is more noble then another, whose disposition is better, and witte more apt to libe­rall artes: of the third sort, he maketh vertue productresse, following the opinion of Boetius, that hee is noble, who de­generateth not from his originall, and applieth himselfe to vertue. This man questionlesse in his profession learned, did not marke, that he deuiding nobilitie into two diuers kindes, hath not shewed nor defined the neerest kinde, wherein they agree: for if he had examined his definition, he might easiely haue foreseene, that they not being to bee reduced, vnder vniuocall kinde, and very hardly vnder ana­logie, no more could different kindes be fashioned, after such a manner as he framed them: hee hath therefore Vain­ly alleaged, that nature, or the intention of nature, may generate nobilitie, for as wee haue declared, nature of her selfe, is the cause of reason, and by accident of nobilitie: for if she distribute nobilitie, as well as reason, all men, as they are reasonable, so should they be noble; but in that the cause of nbilitie is fortune (being a cause contingent) of men wee see some noble, others ignoble. That vertue is the cause of nobilitie we grant, but not the vertue of one alone (as he af­firmeth) but rather the vertue of many: we grant also, that nature in respect of her selfe, is to all a kinde and louing mo­ther: notwithstanding let vs adde, that she working by seed, manifesteth herselfe a step-mother to some: considering seed from the heauens, places, nourishment, and sathers, receiueth diuers disposition, sometimes good, some times bad: wherevpon indiuidualles of the same kinde (but especially in humane kinde) as they are of diuers temperatures, so in [Page 194]them ditters inclinations, and in their mindes different ef­fects and affects are discouered: from whence it proceedeth in reason, that some are esteemed of noble race, and others of ignoble: some ingenious, others stupide: some preuaile with force of mind, and are truely worthy to command, and others be as it were lumpish sturdy, with whome seruitude better befitteth: Vnto which the diuine Philosopher allu­ding saith, that in the generation, of men, there is a mixture in some of gold, and those are alwaies worthy to command, others haue commixtion with siluer, and these are fit, some­times to obey, sometimes to commaund; the third and last sort, participate with yron. Wherefore, as of al others, most vile, they are euer fit to serue, and neuer to command. Con­sormable to his master was the great Perepatitian, who she­wed by most euident reasons, that by nature the Lord and seruant was allotted: Nobilitie therefore is not contrary to the lawes of Nature: Because Nature made all thinges ne­cessary, common to all, and those which are accidentall and contingent, shee left them subiect to instabilitie: for if wee see by experience, that in the sonnes bodies oftentimes, the similitudes of fathers, grandfathers, and great grandfathers are represented, why should we not graunt, that in the mind with the body conioynd the like may com to passe? & that in them the like inclination & facilitie, somtimes vnto vertue, and otherwhiles to vice, may appeare. This for the most part falls out, whether the world be eternall (as the Perepatetiks falsly affirm) or by the omnipotent God created (as the Di­nines soundly hold) for that in the course of this mortal life, the variety of reasous, customs, maner of life, norishments, & such like, make neere causes differēt, out of which afterward diuers effects are produced: notwithstanding, in my iudge­ment, the opinion of Aristotle is worthy to be approued, that nobilitie by all men is to be had in estimation: for it is con­formable to reason, that from better the better shuld spring, the which by Horace was confirmed in these verses:

But to proue the contrary of these arguents, I affirme, that it is, not onely no inconuenience, but further it is necessary, that the first vertuous of a progeny, without he himselfe be­ing absolutely noble, should lay the foundation of an other mans Nobilitie: and to the end my conclusion may be mani­fest, we must consider, that as to procure the transmutation of any thing into fire, it is first requisite, that it acquite eight degrees of heat; so to make one noble, it is necessary, that be­sides his owne excellencie, he ioyne vnto himselfe the glory at least of iii. other lights, that is, that he be enobled by three other of his predecessors: whereupon, as that shal not be fire which retains only two or three degrees of heate, although there shalbe fire kindled & begun, so shall not he be noble, that hath onely his owne priuate renowne to stand vpon, al­though he be the beginning of nobility: neither hath that a­xiome here any place that saith, whatsoeuer is the cause, that another thing is as it is, must much more be the like it selfe: for it hath annexed vnto it many limitations; and it may bee verefied in these causes, which of the Logicians & Philoso­phers are called, causes rotal, that is, which are of themselues, and only causes: but he which is the beginning of nobilitie, is not alone the cause of nobility, but concurreth therin, with many other. Let vs graunt, that he as the point in continuall quantity, & vnity in discreet, is cōprehended amongst those noble, yet not as absolutely noble, but as he that onely hath one degree of nobilitie, being as it were the beginning: con­fes we also, that one can not giue what he hath not himselfe; and that the first vertuous can not giue vnto an whole race, nobilitie: but adde wee this thereunto, that hee may giue what he hath, which is that first degree, with his own vertue acquired: and affirme we, that the vertuous son of a vertuous father, is more noble, he inioying, not only his own, but also his fathers glory; though this man also, standing but vpon ii, discents, cannot be said to be absolutely noble, as that cannot [Page 196]termed fire, which hath onely foure degrees of heate: last­ly, that saying of the Philosopher impugneth not our defi­nition, that the beginning is the halfe of the whole, because it behooueth, wee vnderstand it truely: hee minding to in­ferre, that to giue beginning to any thing, is of such im­portance, as it seemeth whosoeuer hath begunne, is at the middest of his worke: But graunting them that this propo­sition is true, wee may conclude against themselnes, that he which is halfe partaker of Nobilitie, is not wholy noble: so that to such an one, our definition cannot be applied: which remayneth firme and immoueable, that is: that perfect no­bilitie is a good of fortune, deriued from the vertue of our progenitors, together with the countrey wherein we were borne: through which it is supposed, that hee noble borne, is more apt and disposed vnto vertue than an other ignoble. For if we esteeme the goodnesse of diuers creatures, by their races, how much more ought wee to prognosticate the ver­tue of men by his stocke, and progeny, considering that not onely secret vertue of seede, but also reason doth insti­gate a man, to immitate the reuealed vertue of his progeni­tours, not to shewe himselfe altogether vnworthy of their splendor and glory.

Heere Ʋarano stayed, imagining that hee had suffici­entlye declared, what manner of thing Nobilitie was, when the Queene made a signe to Signior Francisco Pa­tritio, that he should vtter somewhat, for the drawing out a little more at length, this begunne discourse. Patritio there­fore turning himselfe towardes Varano: You Signior Hercules explaining the definition of Nobility sayde, that he shall be truely noble, who lawfully descendeth from famous men and women, or that for riches, or such thinges amongest men are most esteemed, so that, not onely vertue, honour, magistracie, and glory, for those be the things most repu­ted of: but also riches, be the authors of nobilitie: a poynt (in my opinion) dissenting from all reason: For if riches produced Nobilitie, riches beeing the lawfull begotten [Page 197]of auarice, who seeth not euidently, that Nobilitie should spring from a verie corrupt generation. Shewe vs there­fore howe it may bee that men through riches, should be­come famous, and be foundation of Nobilitie. And Ʋara­no: As vertue without riches can very hardly appeare: hee which is poore, as the philosopher affirmeth, not being able to accomplish magnificent actions: so those riches which are not the companions of vertue, cannot be founders of no­bilitie: wherefore the couetous man, vsurer, and he which addicteth him selfe to sordide gaine, although hee shoulde heape vp togither more riches then Craesus, yet could he not of himselfe, be beginning of Nobilitie: although the first descendant from this man, might well acquire this begin­ning, if with his receiued wealth, hee should couple vertue. Notwithstāding al this Signior Hercole (added Patritio) you make me suspect this your noble born babe to be infamous, I fearing, that hee is rather an imaginatiue, then a true and lawfull ofspring, seeing you are of opinion, that vertue without the seede of riches, sufficeth not to better him: but if that were true, it were a wonder to poynt out one Noble, considering how hard a matter it is, that riches shuld accom­panie vertue: and therefore good Diogenes was wont to say, that Vertue could not inhabite in a Citie nor in a house where was riches: and the selfe same Philosopher demaun­ded what sort of men were most noble, made answere, the contemners of riches, glorie, and pleasures: and Plutarch said, that the appetite of nature was of it selfe incorrigible, but if aboundance of riches thereunto were added, it be­came altogether wilde and vnbridled: and if wee shall imi­tate the wiser Philosophers, but especially Seneca, wee may rather terme riches the mother of pride, insolence, ambition, intemperance, then of Nobilitie: And if wee respect the founders of ancient Nobilitie, wee shall find many more ex­amples of men poore and vertuous, who despising riches, by vertue onely made their progeny illustrous, then of the rich vertuous: For beginning from the ancient Romanes, Fabri­tius [Page 198]although he were poore, rather desired triumphs, then the riches of the Samnites, hauing with maruailous greatnes of mind, reiected both the gifts, and giuers: Menenius A­grippa, who was of so great authoritie, that many times hee tooke vp the discordes betweene the Senate and the people, liued so poorely, as after his death, if there had not beene a common collection made amongst the people, there had not beene sufficient left to burie him. Attylius Regulus, a man renowned for his vertues, was so poore, as that he being to maintaine the warre, it was necessarie his wife and chil­dren should liue at publike charge: and for this occasion was a daughter of Cneius Scipioes married with a publike dowrie. But to make recitall also of the Grecian Histories, Phocyon Athenian, when hee might haue made himselfe rich with those gifts offered vnto him by king Phillip, would not ac­cept of them: and being put in minde by the Kings Ambas­sadours, that hee should doo well to accept of them for his children, who without riches, could hardly preserue theyr fathers glorie. If they prooue like mee (aunswered hee) the selfe same little field will bring them vppe, which hath raised mee to this dignitie, and if they resemble me no­thing at all, I desire not that their intemperance should bee nourished and augmented at my charge and expence. Ly­sander Lacedemonian, who made Athens Tributarie to Sparta, was so poore, that after his death, his Daughters Husbande, not hauing receiued their dowries, would haue refused it, but that by the Magistrates they were com­pelled to holde and keep them: Epaminondas, who depriued the Lacedemonians of the principallitie of Graecia, and made his countrie free, which before, and after him, was alwayes in seruitude: of all the victories hee obtained, neuer tooke any thing for himselfe, content onelie with Glorie, and was so indigent, that not sufficient be­ing found after his death for perfourmance of his obse­quies, hee was buried at publike charge: I could bring forth infinite other examples for demonstration, that ri­ches [Page 199]hath no part of nobilitie: the which for to auoid pro­lixitie, I passe ouer with silence: onely I will alleage, that the Philosopher in his Rethoricke, amongst noble families, numbreth the descendentes of Socrates; and Socrates as hee was esteemed for a Vertuous man, so was hee not rich, nor from a rich father extracted: we must necessarily ther­fore affirme, that these men, adorned onely with vertue, were ignoble, in that they were not rich (which would be an exceeding paradox) or else that onely vertue, and not riches is shee, that maketh a familie noble. The definiti­on I haue set downe of Nobilitie (said Varano) as it is true, so will it resolue all difficulties, and not being sinisterly in­terpreted, will not be altogether discrepant from your o­pinion.

These two conclusions therefore are inferred: the first is, that vertue is properly shee, that bringeth forth Nobilitie, The second, that Nobilitie cannot bee nouri­shed, nor brought to her perfection, without riches. The first conclusion is manifest of it selfe, the second is prooued by this reason: for as the practise of mechanicall and vile trade, is proper to him ignoble, so belongeth it to him no­ble, to vse freely liberall artes; and therefore the Philoso­pher affirmeth, that the life of mechanicall artificers is base, degenerating from vertue, and vnworthy a ciuill man: con­sidering, that to acquire vertue, quiet, and leasure is requisit: where vpon it may bee noted against the Stoicke, that No­bility taketh not his beginning, so much from abandoning of vice, as from giuing ouer base practises, and mechanicall artes, and applying ones selfe to those liberall. And because these cannot be freely exercised without riches, therefore are Riches necessarie for the preseruation of Nobilitie: in that one oppressed with pouertie, cannot haue a quiet peaceable life, hee beeing inforced to gaine his liuing by manuall aite: And therefore the Philosopher in his Politickes, if I remember well, saieth; Nobilitie consisteth of auncient richesse and vertue: minding to inferre, that [Page 200]though Nobility hath vertue for foundation, yet can it not be nourished nor continued without riches; the which, the greater antiquitie they be of in a familie, the more speciall token giue they of Nobility and vertue, seeing ancient ri­ches can, not be preserued without ancient vertue: that No­bility is by riches preserued, and through want thereof lost, experience and reason manifesteth it: for principalities and riches once lost, wee see most noble families come to con­tempt, and loose their Nobilitie, those Noble being constrai­ned through want, to applie themselues to base courses, and mechanicall arts: wherein, as the body is contaminate, so is Nobilitie stained. Lette vs then auerre, conformable to your iudgement, that the poore man through singular vertue, may bee foundation of Nobilitie: but then wee must adde also, that it cannot be nourished and reduced to due & pro­portionable stature, nor in a family be preserued without ri­ches: whereupon as Fabritius, Menenius, Agrippa, Attilius Regulus, Cneius Scipio, Phocyon, Lysander, Epaminondas, and A­ristides the iust, being poore, were for their notable vertue, a sufficient beginning of Nobility: so by defect of wealth, it was quickly annihilate in their discendants. And if the of­spring (said Patritio) were as vertuous as the first founder, might not nobilitie be nourished, and take propagation without riches? And Ʋarano: Noble race would either bee verie rare, or none at all, if segnealate and heroycall vertue, were as necessary for the nourishment, as ge­neration of Nobility, this beeing a thing so admirable and rare to bee found. Therefore I say, that as by excellent and singular vertue shee is generate, so is shee fostred and maintained by riches and indifferent vertue. Declare vn­to vs I beseech you (replied Patritio) before wee proceede a­ny further, what is segnealate and excellent vertue, & what vertue indifferent: for I did not thinke that in vertue there could haue beene any defect, mediocritie, or excesse, the Philosopher hauing tolde mee, that there can neuer be too rertuous a man.

[Page 201]I am sure, signior Patritio, answered Ʋarano, you faine ig­norāce, to the end that others may the better vnderstand, as he that no lesse desireth to assist others, than helpe himselfe; I therefore, to satisfie your good intention, wil faine also to instruct you, to the end others may learne: and therefore I say, that if we consider vertue in her selfe, shee being a me­diocritie equally distant, betwixt twoo extreames, cannot participate of more or lesse: but if wee respect the subiect into which vertue is receiued, shee shal not be in all points equall: For, as in men, complexions, exercises, and studies be diuers: so will some particular vertue, in one, bee more splendant than in another: as for example: in a man of war, he being alwayes conuersant about things terrible, the ver­tue of fortitude shall be more noted, than in a ciuill man, who applieth himselfe to the gouernement of the common wealth: For in him the vertue of iustice wil bee more fa­mous, as in the Philosopher the vertue of temperance. The excesse then of vertue, according to the Philosopher, is after this maner expressed: the which excesse is of such a nature, as it cannot passe into vice, but rather is properly that which maketh a man magnanimous; and it is called vertue Heroi­call, as that which participateth both of humanitie and diui­nitie: and this is either excellencie in profession of armes, accompanied with morall vertues, or great wisedome, and ciuill vnderstanding: insomuch as from these two vertues, cities receyue cheefest good and benefite. But because these excellencies are not graunted to euery one, neyrher is it ge­nerally giuen to all men, to be apt to warfare, or enclined to the study of good letters, I will count him possessed with indifferent vertue, in whom shall appeare gentle customs, that shall be continent, modest, not enuious, no euill spea­ker, a keeper of promise, a friend to right and equitie: faith­full in preseruing things committed vnto him, as wel mony, as secrets, a louer of trueth, that through deprauation of mind consents to no brutish action, nor through temerity e­nacteth no vndecent thing: and that aboue all the rest, shall [Page 202]be religious and liberall. And to conclude, an enemie to al vice, and a friend to vertue: when it is therefore sayde, that they also shall be noble, whose predecessors through riches haue beene renowmed, indifferent vertue is not excluded: for then the propositiō would be most false, but rather that vertue heroycall, the which of it selfe without riches is ho­norable: whereas the Philosopher in his Rhetorike hath numbred the offpring of Socrates amongst those noble, sup­posing, which yet may be doubted, that Socrates, and those that tame of him were poore, we must obserue, that hee in his Rhetorike entreatiug of things, which in the eie of the people be apparant, he doth not always philosophically, but sometimes, after a centaine manner, speaketh and discours­eth particularly, tying and accommodating himselfe, rather to vulgar opinion, than pune veritie: and there is no doubt, but if thatq excused him not, hee should many wayes contra­dict himselfe: for there could not also be any antiquitie of blood, nor of spring of Socrates in Aristotles time. Seeing that, as Ammonius affirmeth in the life of Aristotle, he at 17. yeres of age, went to heare Socrates, and was his disciple for three yeres. Considering for my sake (said Patritio) you con­fesse that vertue is the mother, I am content, in fauor of you, that riches may be the tutresse of nobilitie: which ought to nourish and reduce her to perfection. Then signior Alfonso Turcho, desirous to heare further of the matter: Me thinkes said he, signior Hercole, your opinion is very conformable to trueth, which is, that Nobilitie taketh originall, rather from giuing ouer mechanicall artes, and base practises, than from abandoning vice: the philosopher confirming the same, where he saith, that he which is employed in base practises, cannot exercise vertue: and there is no doubt, but all com­mon wealths, as well ancient, as moderne, distinguish by this Caracter, the noble from the vulgar sort: And the Philoso­pher would, not only, that the plebeian should be free from vice, but further allotteth vnto him a certain portion of ver­tue, saying, in the mechanicall man so much vertue sufficeth, [Page 203]as wherwith he may iustly practise his trade and profession; but for all this, I am doubtfull, for if Nobilitie should haue her originall from leauing trades mechanicall, and not from abandoning of vice, this inconuenience would follow: For the professor of mechanical arts, being without vice, should be ignoble, and he practising liberall Artes, though vitious, must come to be noble, and so consequently, any wicked man, applying himselfe to liberall artes, might be author of Nobilitie.

This your doubt ariseth (aunswered Varano) from not ha­uing well vnderstoode, all the circumstances, from which Nobilitie is deriued, although I described them vnto you: because it is necessary, that the first founder of Nobilitie, giue not ouer, only arts mechanicall, and apply himselfe to the studie of artes liberall, but further, that hee vertuously, and with decencie practise them; which doing, he can neuer be vitious. You wil then inferre, added Turcho, that he who wil be truly noble, or beginning of nobilitie, ought, not only to abandon mechanicall professions, but also to flie vice. E­uen very so, saide Ʋarano. And what vnderstand you, re­plied Turcho, by those words, to exercise liberall Arts ver­tuously? And Ʋarano: These wordes declare, that it is pro­per to one noble, to practise liberall Arts without vice: be­cause he is bound to vse them, not for auarice, or ambition, as many doe, but onely for honestie. And what vnderstand you by liberal arts, said Turcho? And Varano: By liberal arts, I generally intend al those exercises, aswel of the minde, as body, which are worthy of a vertuous and ciuil man, as are al the Sciences, as wel diuine, as humane, and the arts which vnto some Sciences are annexed and subalternate, but a­boue all others, the Arte of Warre, and studie of the Lawes: For the one preserueth, and the other gouern­eth a Common-wealth: And therefore al those, who addict themselues to these exercises, not to reape thereof benefit and gaine, but in fauour of themselues, their frinds, and of honestie, eyther they are the beginning of nobilitie [Page 204]to their discendants, or else not degenerating from their predecesslors, may bee recounted amongst those noble. You impose too seuere a law, added Count Scipio Socrate, vppon Nobility, you holding opinion, that they noble, are enioy­ned to practise liberall arts, without hope of drawing from them any benefit: so that Doctorshippe, which by Empe­rors is so priuiledged, should verie seldome bee the begin­ning of nobilitie, we continually seeing, that the multitude of doctours, especially of Lawyers, is alwaies ententiue to gaine. And Ʋarano: He that hath a generous & noble mind, shal easily obserue this law, but to the degenerate and base mind, it may wel seeme rigorous. Therefore I replie, that those doctors, who sel words al the day long for gain, yea & for lies also, cannot but acidenrally be authors of Nobility, notwithstanding they should acquire greater wealth, then Crassus; but their inheritors, by imploying this obtained wealth, and exercising decently liberall arts, might well lay the foundation of Nobilitie to their progeny. And if a doc­tor, reading or instructing (said Socrate) should receiue some publike stipend, would it any thing preiudice him in Nobi­lity? And Varano: Publike stipend being in anūber of things honourable, & honor of an houest man desired, as an ensigne of vertue, to receiue it inward, especially through her bene­ficence, doth not only, not preiudice, but moreouer exalteth to Nobilitie: By the same reason also, a stipend which the Prince bestoweth on those noble, to serue him vpon occasi­on in the warre, or in any other honourable action, doth not a whit blemish, but rather maketh nobility the more to shine and be resplendant, in that the stipend of a Prince, who re­presenteth the Common-wealth, is a publike stipend, & no­teth vertue in him noble, & that hee either hath, or is fitte to perform some benefit to the prince or common-wealth. But Count Hercole Tassone, who sate by him said: I would wil­lingly vnderstand, if to practise marchandise wer any obsta­cle of Nobility: Ferif that should be true, the Venetian No­bility, so highly esteemed of, wold be nothing worth, in that [Page 205]there be seldome any of their nobles, which are not also mar­chants, they being of opinion, that Nobility can hardly bee preserued without marchandise, being the meane to hold & augment wealth. And I haue, and do know some princes, that are giuen to trade of marchandise, and yet amongst others noble, those princes are most noble: and Ʋarano: Although the Philosopher affirmeth, that the life of marchants is base, and contrary to vertue, as also the Thebanes made a law, that none might be capable of honors in the commonwealth, ex­cept they had giuen ouer trade, for the space of ten yeares before: notwithstanding, I make this distinction: For mar­chandise may be practised two manner of waies, the one, by causing to be brought out of farre countries, those commo­dities which are not in their own, to their owne gaine, and for benefit also of the common-wealth, the other, by not re­specting publike benefit, but onely to enrich himselfe, buy­eth vp the commodity of his owne country, whereof there is aboundance, expecting occasion to sell them againe at a greater price, and this being grounded Vpon auarice, and a sordide gaine, as it is from vertue farre remote, so dooth not that other blemish at al Nobility, especially, if it be practised with Decorum. And howe may it be practised with Deco­rum (added Tassone?) He noble in vsing trade, shall obserus Decorum (sayd Varano) if for all this he giue not ouer liberal artes, but shall vse the other by the hand of his agents, & not sell his commoditie by retale, setting forth shoppes with it, but vtter it in grosle, and for a reasonable price, hauing euer his eie no lesse to publike benefit, then vnto priuate gaine: with this Decorum the Venetian Nobilitie practise it: For they noble, not forsaking profession and arts liberall, as also not neglecting affaires, and publike magistracies, procure with their ships, commodities to be transported out of other countries, for which cause they maintain their factors, selling altogither in grosse, helping by this meanes, not onely their country, but also many other neighbor prouinces, & therfore in this maner preseruing and increasing wealth, they do no [Page 206]whit infringe their nobilitie. Those Signiors Vndoubtedlie are noble (added Tassone) for besides their being most opu­lent both in publike & priuate, & lords of so miraculous & great a city, as is Venice, & most mighty also by land & sea, they may further be esteemed the only nobles of Italy, Nobi­litie in their ancient families hauing neuer bin defaced, the original wherof is reckoned from nine hundred yeares, by the Barbarous nations, the which by their Cities of Italie cannot be affirmed, wherin some of the nobles vaunt them­selues to come out of Germanie, others out of France, & many out of Spaine. But to returne to our purpose, seeing he noble may traffick, I wold also vnderstand, if without touch of no­bility, he may heape vp treasure or no: for of this I doubt, e­specially hauing read, that amongst the Romanes it was highly commended, neither to deminish nor augment a pa­trimony, that generous people imagining, that it was a hard matter to accumulate gold & treasure without vice. To ga­ther wealth (answered Ʋarano) is in the number of those ac­tions, which of themselues are termed neither good nor bad, but by the circumstāces, mean, & end wherfore they are per­formed, they become either good or depraued; it shalbe law­ful therfore for him noble to store vp wealth, so often as in this he obserue a mediocrity, & do it to good & honest end, & this mean may by him be kept, if considering himself, & his wealth, he liue with that decorum, which for his nobility & faculty shal be conueniēt, endeuoring that euery yeare of his reuenues there may rather auance, thē come short, to the end, that by sinister occasion of fortune, he fal not into some distresse: for ther is not a greter indignity, nor any thing that more preiudiceth nobility, then for one noble, throgh wāt, to go led, as we commouly say, by another mans hand, as on the contrary, there is not any point that giueth greater reputa­tion, or that nearer appeareth to magnanimity, thē not to be in want or necessity of any thing. The end shalbe honest, in gathering wealth for our childrē: which is also by the Euāge­lical law permitted, as likewise to be mindful of our friēds, & that we may honor, & succor our cuntry in hir necessities, [Page 207]a thing which the Venetiā nobility is wont to perform, who bring into the cōmon treasury, the particular treasures hea­ped vp by industrie, and frugalitie, offering it with their sin­gular reputation to the seruice of their countrie: and there­fore by fooles, who respect no further then a certaine vaine exterior apparance, this their frugalitie is fondly taxed, as those, who in apparrell and diet, consume not their wealth: where vppon they call the nobles of Venice miserable and couetous, althogh notwithstanding throughout their whole cittie, they may see manifest signes of their magnificence: but if we vse by the house, to measure, not only the condi­tion and state, but also the minde of the patrone, that for his own vse hath built it: what is he, who beholding the stately & magnificent pallaces, consecrated to eternitie, which the Venetian nobilitie, for themselues, and publike ornament, questionlesse with heroycall charge do build, and may not perceiue in thē a minde more then great, or will not terme them (vndoubtedly most worthy) by the titles of magni­ficent and excellent? and let not thē scoffe at that nobilitie, who with notable vanity, are to no other thing addicted, thē the excesse of pompous attire, & sumptuous fare; who being cōtinually folowed by Parasites, & Sicophants, with shame, & losse to thēselues, & their childrē, vtter their wealth down­warde in the priuies. The honest frugalitie and moderate li­uing of the vertuous (said Tassone) is rather to be attributed to those excellent lawes, & good customes, wherewith that most prudēt commonwealth is gouerned, thē to the vertu of particular men: for diet, by the laws is moderated, and sum­tuous apparrel, as wel in women, as men forbidden: for the magistracie of Censors, which is a place of great dignitie in the common-wealth, is principally intentiue about this, seuerely chastising those, who contemning the laws, exceed the meane set down, in their apparrel, diet, or other super­sluities. This law (added Varano) is of so great impor­tance, that by it principally, the commonwealth flourisheth, and is maintained: for richesse by this meanes, is not onely [Page 208]preserued (the props of Nobilitie) but also pride is abated, all occasion of enuie taken away, of hatred, disdaine, and consequently of all seditions: In that those men, equall in Nobilitie, but in riches inferior to others, not being able to tollerate, the pompe and pride of them more opulent, in apparrel, & other exterior apparances, excelled by these discontented with their owne estate, they would easily la­bour after innouation of state in the common-wealth: and there is no doubt, but if the prince with lawes bridle not the subiects follie, that men in citties shall liue scarce happyly, seeing men by nature, are so vaine and ambitious, as the vul­gar sorte, by apparrell striue to seeme noble; as they noble, also contend to appeare like princes: & setting their whole desire vppon no other then an exterior apparance, they re­spect not to be seene beggers in their houses, so that in the market place they may appeare rich. Seeing you haue here made it knowne (saide count Caesar Tassone) in what manner it is lawfull for one noble to trafficke and enrich himselfe: displease it not you also to declare, whether a Prince, with­out blemish to his Maresty, may heape vp treasure: by one reason it seemeth hee may not, for as the Philosopher affirmeth, accumulating of treasure is proper to a Tyrant: honor and glory belonging to a right & good Prince; and considering, that a Prince may at his pleasure, dispose of his subiectes and wealth, he maketh a farre better reckning, by laying vppe his treasure in the purses of his subiects, and friends, then euer gleaning from them, to locke it vp close in his owne treasurie: in that by there hiding thē, he aliena­teth from himselfe his subiectes mindes, making himselfe only Lord ouer gold: but contrarie wise, laying them vp in their purses, he becommeth tyrant both of their golde, and mindes: then which minde, there is nothing more difficulte to bee gouerned, as that, which not by force, or violence, but only with beneficence may bee acquired: but further, what need a prince hoard vp treasure, when by the same meanes hee can neuer become poore, how royall and mag­nificence [Page 209]soeuer hee be, in that at his pleasure he might furnish himselfe with his subiects wealth. It is not onely lawful (answered Varano) but also is necessarie that a Prince should gather riches, seeing he representeth the cōmon wealth; con­sidering that the treasure of the prince is publike treasure, wherwith he defendeth the Cittie in time of war, & in time of peace supplyeth the peoples wants, & which most impor­teth, by them the greatnes & reputation of principalitie is maintained, not being any thing that maketh a Prince more highly esteemed, then to bee rich of treasure, mony being as it were the nerues and sinewes of warre: wherefore aboue al other matters, a Prince ought to be respectiue of falling into want of treasure: for he no sooner discouereth himself nee­dy, but, though a verie great prince, hee sodainly groweth into contempt, and easily becommeth a pray to his enemies. A good Prince therefore, ought in gathering of wealth, to haue an eye alwayes to honestie, contending to increase his treasure, rather by auoyding superfluous & excessiue expen­ces, then by imposing new and vnwoonted exactions, to the end he shew not a desire to enlarge his own royalty, by de­minution of his subiects store, for this shuld be no other, thē of a good Prince, to become a tyrant: the true Prince no o­therwise differing from the tyrant (as the Philosopher tea­cheth) but that the prince rather seeketh to enrich his sub­iects, then himself, & a tirant, as he that considereth not that a prince is ordained for his subiects good, & not the subiects in fauor of the prince, not a whit respecting the good of his people, performeth all things for profit, & to please himself: and therefore the obiect of a true prince is honessie, and of a tyrant, his owne wil and contentment. He then that shal store vppe treasure in such sort as is conuenient for a true Prince, preserueth his reputation in peace, and maketh himselfe strong for war, and by nor oppressing the minds of his sub­iects, hee shal euer be a true and lawfull potentate. The an­swer of Ʋarano was by the whole assembly commended, as if in that, secretly were expressed the wisedome or vertue of [Page 210]their Prince. And count Cesar replying no further, signior Guilio Cesar Brancaccio: I well remember, saide he, Signior Torquato Tasso in one of his dialogues, which he intituled Forno, intreating of nobility, holdeth this conclusion, that a man of valor, though he be not honest, is properly he, that gineth beginning to nobiltie, by acquiring power & riches, leauing them to his progenie: which conclusiō, he verifieth by the example of Cesar, who though he was not an honest man, yet because hee was most vaiorous, left his posteritie great, and mightie: From this conclusion, there arise in me two doubts, the one is, whether from one not good, nobili­tie may take originall, the other is, whether vice and valor may stand together: vppon these difficulties, Signior Her­cules, I expect your opinion. And Hercules: Before we pro­ceed any further, it will be good, that the first discoursing search out the true signification, and from whence these termes, a man of valor, bee deriued, the which, neither with the Latines, nor Grecians I neuer finde expressed, and I do not beleeue that they can be set downe in such manner, and with that grace as they sound in our language: for my part, I should think that this word valor, were deriued from the vulgar word Ʋalere, which wee commonly vse in those thinges that are solde for price: and that speaking properly, it importes as much to say, as this thing is of great value, as to say, it valueth, or is worth so much: or the price of it is so tated: and forther, I am of opinion that those things are ab­solurely of value, which in their kinde (be they artifinall, or naturall) are good, and apt to that end, wherevnto art or na­ture directeth, & not being such, althogh they may welserue to some such vse, yet may they not absolutely bee termed of value; which being true (as it is) so cannot he be absolute­ly a man of valor, who is not honest, considering hee is not apt to that end, wherevnto uature and the author of hir, hath directed him, which is felicitie: & I say absolutely of valor; because it is not to be otherwise thought, but that he being expert in some arte, or science, may be of indifferent esti­mation. [Page 211]This is conformable to the Philosopher, where in­treating of wisedome, and wise men, he saith, that this name properly agreeth with those, that of all humane actions performe euer the best: but for all this, those also, who in some one Arte are excellent, do vsurpe this terme: where­vppon we vse to say, that Praxiles and Phydias were expert and excellent Grauers. Nowe to our purpose: If Tasso vn­derstand, that a man not good, may be called absolutely of valor, in my iudgement, he is deceiued: but if he intendeth, that valorous may be applied, after the same maner, as Phy­dias was said to be wise and excellent, which was only in the art of Grauing, he spoke well: In like maner, he is deceiued if he beleeue that the man valorous, accompanied with vi­ces, may of himselfe bee founder of Nobilitie, and I say of himselfe, in that by accident he is not forbidden, such an one leauing riches & power to his posterity, by meane of which, they may with honor exercise vertue, and liberal Arts. Your opinion, said Brancaccio, is conformable to my humour, and grounded vpon preualent reasons: For if by nobilitie wee suppose an inclination vnto vertue, in him noble, it beeing likely, that from the better, better still springs; if he first had beene wicked, both supposition and proposition would be false: For from one not good, another good should take his originall; but according to my obseruation, this worde valor, seemeth properly to be vsurped in those vses apper­taining to warre; so that when we say, he is valorous, or of valour, presently we vnderstand it in Armes. Arte Mili­tary, answered Ʋarano, as it hath euer beene, of all others the most noble and honorable, so those who make profes­sion of bearing armes, notwithstanding for the most parte, they be menquellers, and most wicked, vsurpe, not onely the name and title of valorous, but also of honest men: as though it were all one, to be valiant with armes in hand, and be an honest man: but as it is false, that one wicked by being valorous may be good, so is it as falfe, that he may be termed a man of valor. Signior Guilio Caesare confirmd this saying, & [Page 212]the Count Scandiano, doubted after this maner: You signior Hercules, amongest the principall properties of Nobilitie, haue placed, not onely renowne of auncesters, but also of Country: as though the property of anciēt & famous bloud, were not sufficient, notwithstanding one were borne in a small village, to illustrate and make noble a progenie: but if we turne ouer ancient and moderne Recordes, we shall finde most noble and famous families, to haue taken their originall, in base and humble place: and to discourse some­what further, the same heauen couereth all things, and heat­eth them; the selfe sunne illuminateth; and to man of al o­ther creatures most excellent, there is not limited one earth­ly habitation only as to the other, but through diuine fauor the whole worlde, hee being in his life time an inhabiter of the whole earth; and being worthy, after death to be a ci­tizen of heauen: wherefore good Diogenes demaunded of what countrey he was, a citizen of the world, answered he: minding to inferre, that not a mans country, but vertue ad­ministreth honor and glorie, and that a man ought to boast, not of his country, but only of vertue: the which of it selfe is sufficient, to illustrate the obscurest countrey whatsoeuer, as Anacharsis the Scithian Philosopher expresseth very wel, who to a foolish Athenian, that obiected vnto him the base­nesse of his countrey, answered: My base country I by ver­tue ennoble, and thou thy country noble, obscurest by vice: And we reade, that the vertue of Homer, mooued emulation amongst seauen of the principall citties of Graecia, each of them vaunting, that hee was borne their originall citizen, doing this for no other cause, but to make themselues fa­mous, with the renowne of this mannes vertue: by which it is manifest, that the vertuous man giueth, and receiueth not honour from his countrey: As I beleeue therefore the definition of nobilitie woulde be much more perfect, if it wanted this clause: notwithstanding I expect that you lay open my errour.

And Ʋarano: As Nature and GOD haue made [Page 213]manne Lorde of the earth, and cittizen of the worlde, so hath he not in the globe of the whole earth, one place more then another, appropriate for his birth, and habitation; in that as experience teacheth, he might liue, and inhabite in all places: notwithstanding by fortune hee hath his birth more in one, then in another, and the place where hee is borne and nourished, wee call his country, and natiue soyle: A man therefore by nature is a cittizen of the world, and by fortune of the land and prouince where he was borne: nei­ther can it bee denied also that citties and places of a land, are greatly different, as also I will not heere moue conside­ration, of diuersitie of climates, which (as appereth also in vnreasonable creatures) ordinarily make wonderfull diffe­rence, in the stature and complexion of the body, & affec­tions of minde, as the Philosopher affirmeth, speaking of the nature of the people of Asia, and Greece: but diuersity of lawes, manners, and customes, are such, as what in one cittie seemeth vniust, and impious, in another is admitted, as honest, and iust: which being true, wee must of necessi­tie confesse, that one borne, and nourished in a cittie built and augmented by men heroycall, grounded by excellent lawes, where prudence, sapience, and all other liberall artes, are practised, is reputed much more vertuous, then another borne and brought vp in a countrie, where barbarous laws, vnciuill customes, and no other artes be professed and prac­tised, but those mechanicall, and base: with which reason moued, the Philosopher saide, that Barbarians neuer were, nor could bee called, perfectly noble. Country therefore importeth so greatly, as without the glory of it, no perfect nobilitie can bee framed; I say perfect, because he may also bee called noble, who is descended of ancient and vertuous parentage, although in meane and humble place. You haue so well resolued my doubt (saide Scandiano) as that I cannot but replie, and confesse that honor of country, is necessarie to perfect nobilitie. Signior Ʋarano, must needs satisfie me also (saide Guirino) for it will not sinke into my head, that [Page 214]Nobilitie is an extern all good, or of fortune, especially hee hauing assirmed, that nobility is euer ioyned with vertue; the which vertue, as it is neither of Fortune, nor by Fortune, the Philosopher so teaching, so can it not be an eternall good: For vertue being an habite, and perfection of our minde, it cannot but be numbred amongst those goods, which in vs be intrinsecate: loose therefore my doubt, and this your ma­nifest contradiction. And Varano: Signior Guirino propoun­deth an excellent probleme, whether nobility bee in the number of those goods internall, or that it be externall, and of Fortune: and to shew the dexterity of his singular wit, as though he conceiued not the truth, hee concludeth by our own position, that nobility is not a good externall, nor of Fortune, we hauing affirmed that in it vertue, as also other poynts precious and honourable were contained. To which we easily make answere, if wee shal but consider what before I haue said, for it is true, that nobility may be placed amongst those goods of Fortune, as that which happneth beyond the intention of Nature, and is by the Philosopher numbred a­mong those goods which are not in our selues: for although it haue originall from vertue, yet dependeth it not of the onely vertue of him that possesseth it, but rather of the ver­tue of his many predecessors, which is truely that, that pro­duceth glorie in him noble, being termed Nobility. Where­upon as the vertue of the most guttering sunne-beames, is of force to make things obscure visible, so the vertue of ma­ny discendants of a most bright beame, may illustrate an ob­scure linage, how hase or vile soeuer; & as the sunne-beames are not in the thing illumined, as in proper obiect, so the glo­rie of predecessors is not in him noble, as in his particular subiect, but hee, together with others of the same bloud, dof enioy the resplendant brightnesse of their predecessors. Is Nobilitie (replied Guirino) bee a vertue of stocke or kinde, a the Philosopher sayth, & dependeth on antiquitie of bloud, wee receiuing bloud from the bodies of our predecessors, I cannot see howe it should rather bee a gift of Nature, then [Page 215]Fortune, beeing to be recounted rather among those goods within our selues, then amongst other externall. And Vara­no: A man noble is begotten, by Nature, seed, & Fortune: for Fortune is no other, but a concourse of diuers causes, whereof the most neare, is a cause vndetermined: Man, as man, is deriued from nature and seede: but in respect of no­bility, from Fortune for it is a thing contingent, and no wayes knowne vnto Nature, that a man shoulde bee borne, whose predecessors haue beene renowned and glori­ous.

Tell me in earnest (added Guirino) is it not the intention of nature to make man, as all other things, in such perfection, as that hee may easily attaine his proper ende. This propo­sition (sayde Ʋarano) is necessary and alwayes true, that nature guideth by infallible prouidence, maketh euer the best of all things, if shee bee not hindered. And Guirino: If therefore in him noble, there is greater perfection then in all other conditions, and that Nature alwayes intendeth that perfect, me thinkes, it necessarily followeth, that hee should bee borne Noble, not by Fortune, but by intenti­on of Nature, and consequently, that Nobilitie is the gist of Narure, and not of Fortune.

You may perceiue Signior Guirino (sayde Varano) that this your conclusion is not necessarie: for all propositions of a syllogisme, are not euer true and necessary: for though in him Noble, greater perfection is supposed then in o­thers, yet many times the contrarie falleth out, as euerie day experience plainely teacheth, and therefore I deserued­ly found fau [...]t with Mutius his definition, that is, that No­bilitie is not the perfection of euery thing in his kind, but ra­ther, an inward supposition of vertue, as hath bin said, which dependeth on the glory and fame of his predecessors.

Guirino replied no further: And Count Hanib all Turcho: You, Signior Hercole, if I carry wel in mind, said: that he can­not be noble, who is not borne legitimate, if that were true, in would follow, that the son of a noble father & mother, might [Page 216]be ignoble, this seeming inconuenient: for if it be true, that Nobilitie, as the Philosopher affirmeth, is a vertue of kinde, it hath originall from seed, and not from marriage: for ma­riage in respect of nature, is a thing accidentall, neither can it augment or diminish perfection in seed; and to stand vp­pon naturall example, as to generate a couragious horse, it sufficeth to put together a noble Stallion, and a goodly Mare: so to make one noble, without other marriage, the vnion of a noble man, and woman, shall be sufficient. And Ʋarano: Although matrimonie is not essentiall, hauing re­spect to generation, and that the vnion of male and female sufficeth, yet is it necessary, for the framing of one perfect­ly noble: considering that one perfectly noble is he, that hath had all his predecessors renouned, and famous, as also with vice immaculate: In that therfore it cannot be denied, but the bastard hath had his father and mother, contami­nate, with the vice of intemperance, as those who came to­gether contrarie to honestie, and repugnant to that, the lawes both diuine, and humane command, although many of his predecessors were noble, yet must he needs confesse, that himselfe is not perfectly noble: but that he wanteth an ounce of arriuing to perfect nobilitie: and I say perfect no­bilitie, because it is not denied, but that bastards also may haue some part in nobilitie, and in vertue bee like to their grandfathers, and great grandfathers.

And if bastards were legitimate (added Count Haniball) should they not supplie the ounce they want, and become perfectly noble? Wise Lawgiuers (sayd Varano) to auoyde the vice of intemperance, hauing depriued bastards, as well from succession of their fathers goods, as of any other good of fortune, beeing those, who contrary to the disposition of the lawes and commandements of God, were begotten, it was prouided to mitigate seuerity of lawe, that by cheefe Princes, who bee the lawes superiours, they might by priui­ledge bee admitted to succession. So that legitimation may make them capable of riches, but not of perfect nobilitie [Page 217]I am satisfied, saide Count Haniball: And Count Hercules Beuelacqua: I haue seene, said he, while I was in the French Court, priuileges of nobilitie giuen by that king, to persons ignoble, yet deseruing well of the crowne of France; as also, other men most noble, to be deptiued of nobilitie, for their contrary demerites, how which should bee done, I cannot see, if nobilitie were restrained to those families, who pre­tend themselues descended of ancient blood: declare vnto vs therfore, if Princes may giue, or take away from another nobilitie. And Ʋarano: It is a conclusion approoued by Doctors of the law, that Princes by their authoritie, may not onely giue nobilitie by writing, and priuileges, but may also secretly giue vnto another those degrees, which apper­taine to men noble, by inuesting him with some noble in­feofment, as also that it is in their power, to depriue nobles of their degrees of nobilitie. And Bartolo, a principall doc­tor, writeth: that if a man should liue a thousand yeares re­plenished with chiefe vertue, yet could he neuer be noble, while by the Prince, some dignitie or nobilitie, were besto­wed on him, by which he might be distinguished, from the common people: Notwithstanding, I am of opinion, that this Doctor, together with others, haue greatly etred: & in no other respect, but that speaking and discussing of no­bilitie, they haue neuer defined it, but confounded it with titles, magistracies, dignities, and other preemenencies; all which bee partes of honour, and rewardes of those actions, which depend on the vertue, of one alone: And I cannot but wonder at Mutius, a man certainly both learned, and iudiciall: who, after hauing confounded diuers kindes of nobilitie, mooueth this question, who is more noble, hee that is descended of ancieut bloud, or another enobled, by his Prince? and he answereth it by these formall wordes: If the Prince giue nobilitie to another for true testimonial of vertue, he shall be most noble: but if it be placed throgh humor, or appetite, he borne of ancient bloud, shal be more honorable: we must therfore affirme according to Mutius, [Page 226]that to bee noble and worthy of honor, is the selfesame, bee­ing most false: for vertuous actions, and not nobilitie, is woorthie of honour: and if nobilitie bee honoured, it is not in respect of it selfe, but as it is presumed, that shee is with vertue conioyned: But if to bee noble, is a thing diuers from beeing woorthy of honour, who seeth not, that Mu­tius in his demaunde, hath begunne (as in prouerbe wee say) a gallon potte, and turning the wheele, like an vnskil­full potter, hath finished a cruse: But leauing Mutius, with all the other Doctours of the lawe, in their confu­sed Chaos, I affirme that a Prince, how great soeuer, cannot giue nor take away nobility, if it be such as either we haue, or ought to be defined.

A Prince may well giue titles, magistracie, enfeof­ments, place, dignity, and other such like most speciall honours, but hee can neuer effect, that one borne of the vulgar sort, should be discended from illustrous familie, nor that he noble, by the renowne of his predecessors, should be borne of base and ignoble parents, although he dishonoured him neuer so much. In your foundations (added Count Her­cole) you discusse, as though yours were the true definition of Nobilitie, which neither Mutius, nor the other doctors by you named, would euer grant you, for they vnderstande this terme nobilitie, much more amply, then doth that Greeke word Euguenia sound: If they should not beleeue mee (sayde Ʋarano) yet would they giue credite to authoritie of their Emperours, seeing Frederick the second, who beside his dig­nity had the name to be greatly learned, demanded what no­bility was: made answer, ancient riches, and excellent cu­stomes: as also Sigismond the most wise Emperour, whom a man of the vulgar sort, by him verie well esteemed, entrea­ting that he would create him noble, made this answere, I may make you rich, and grant you all manner of immunitie, but noble I can no wayes precure you to be. Leauing au­thoritie, and comming to reason, either nobilitie is in the world from other things distant, or else with others the [Page 227]selfe same, as with vertue, riches, prayse, honour, and with other goods internall, or external. If it be the selfesame with others, then is the distinct discussion thereof superflu­ous: If it bee from them seperate and apart, as particular treatie is necessrrie, so is it as behoouefull to finde out desi­nitions, and essentially differences, by which the nature there of may bee knowne, to bee from other thinges diffe­rent.

The definition being giuen, conformable to the doctrine of the Philosopher, is such, as that it sheweth this excellence which wee terme Nobilitie, to bee of different nature from all other goods and properties, therefore it is suffici­ent and good. But the definition of Mutius and other Doctors, can neither be blamed, nor commended, they ne­uer hauing defined, or giuen any signe thereof, whereby wee might distinguish it from vertue, prayse, and honour, but haue so obscured it, with the colours of other things, as that there is no sight so quicke, which is able to compre­hend it. Me thinkes (sayd Count Hercole) that from Mutius, which I haue also seene, the definition of Nobilitie may verie well bee drawne: for hee affirming that Noble sig­nifieth one woorthie to be knowne, it may be sayde, that Nobilitie is a good, which maketh another man worthie to be knowne.

See you not (answered Varano) that by this definition, vertue, riches, hnor, and other goods, which make another man woorthie to bee knowne, are not a whit distingui­shed from Nobilitie, which the Philosopher sheweth, say­ing, That there be three sortes of Cittizens in a Common-wealth, worthy to be knowne, those be the rich, noble, & ver­tuous, and there is no doubt, but one may be rich, popular, and vertuous, and yet not well borne: and for all this, hee shall be worthie to be known. But to return to our purpose, they greatly abuse themselues, who baselie borne, growe proude of receiued Nobilitie, as though the authority of the prince had made them regenerate & borne anew. But what [Page 220]say you of the Nobilitie, added count Hercole, which the Sig­niory of Venice vsually giues to them, that haue performed any singular benefit to their common-wealth? is not that tru Nobilitie? as they did to Giacomo Cauallo, of Ʋerona, who was created a noble man of Ʋenice, with all his posteritie, for the egregious vertue, and valorous attempts, that he performed, in that most dangerous warre they hadde with the Geno­wayes at Chioggia, and togither with him for the selfe same occasion, they made thirtie pleibean families of the City of Ʋenice noble: ennobling those that then liued, as all theyr d [...]scendants perpetually: and they being the first, were gen­tlemen, without attending any third or fourth generation. If Giacomo Cauallo were in his owne Citie noble (sayd Ʋara­no) hee acquired not nobilitie in the Venetian Common-welth, but by being made a member of that commonwealth vnto which hee was vassaile, hee attained some title and pre­eminence of great honour and benefit, in that hee like other Gentlemen, might stand for all honours, magistracies, and dignitie. And by the reasons aboue, by vs alleadged, those first who of common people were made noble, were truelie honoured: but yet not ennobled with true and perfect no­bility: whereupon they were rather a beginning of Nobili­tie to their posteritie, then truly noble: and to conclude, Princes may by their authority, giue beginning of Nobility to a familie, as likewise of disgrace and ignobilitie, and e­specially, when through desert of vertue they honor good men, and for vice, reproach those wicked. Your conclusion (said count Hercules) is so cōformable to truth, as I am out of al doubt. I haue good cause to doubt also (said Count Guido Calcag.) neither wil it euer sinke into my head, that nobility (as Varano hath set down) is in the kind of good things, being rather to be nūbred amōgst those euil, which hinder felicity: in that nobility in him noble, doth no lesse poyson and cor­rupt his sweetest contentments, then an other may be, who is reiected. Behold a fine paradox (said Varano.) That is a pa­dox (replied Calcgnini) which is not with sound reason accō ­panied: [Page 221]for how can that be a good, which depriueth of li­bertie, and bindeth with hard knots of seruitude? and who seeth not that nobilitie is such, seeing he noble, can neither do nor say any thing without consent of nobilitie? he being continually enioyned, to his great discontentmēt, to speake, walke, stand still, bee apparrelled, vse wealth, and to per­forme all his operations not as he would, but in such sorte as his nobility vrgeth him, with hauing an eie euer to decorum, and not to obscure the glory of his predecessors: the which cannot by ignobilitie be affirmed, in that full of most plea­sant libertie, it giueth licence to the ignoble to liue not only after his own minde, but liscentiously to cease vpon al those contentments, which beast please him, without hauing re­spect, to time, place, or the dignitie of his predecessors. To this truth, these illustrous Princes, most noble Ladies, and honorable Knights, will readyly giue testimony, who neuer more sweetly tast their delights, then when dispoyling them selues of that prosopopeia which this beast of nobilitie car­rieth about with her, they are apparrelled with that liberty, which to pleasing and iocund ignobilitie is euer annexed: From hence it proceedeth, that to vs gentlemen in Carne­uale time, masking is so acceptable, in that at our owne plea­sure, wee may transforme our selues, sometimes into the ha­bit of a porter, other whiles, of a country man, and some­times into any other person more base and vile, taking in­credible pleasure, in immitating their speach and gate, and practising their mechanical and licentious customes, some­times freeing our selues from the insolencie of seruants and boys, which continually run gaping at our tailes, we proue how sweete it is to go alone, nowe running, then leaping, sometimes skipping, by and by laughing: as also that wee may enter into any place, without being noted, & execute any knaueries. Surely if we well consider, we shall finde, that this glorie which is termed nobilitie, is no other but a light, which maketh the defects of men noble to euery mannes eye apparant. How many may wee say, haue bin, & are the [Page 230]men of base condition, who haue run a life no lesse brutish and dissolute, then Sardanapalus Lidiane, Philopater Acgip­tian, Heliogabalus and Comodus romaine Emperours, and yet hauing beene of base qualitie, by the eye of the world, they haue not beene discouered: whereas on the contrary, of the intemperate, and vitious life of those in noble estate, bookes and whole volumes be replenished. But what saye you of nobility, she being found (as many times it happeneth) coupled with pouertie? what burthen is more intolera­ble?

The poore gentleman, not content with that which is ne­cessary for sustentation of humane life, superfluous things wanting, where with nobilitie is puffed vppe in pride, hee yerneth inwardly, and grieuing a thousand times a day, at his noble birth (as he that is ashamed, to apply himselfe to base course of life) languisheth in great miserie: whereas contra­riwise the poore mechanicall man, accustomed to labour, & an homely life, no whit carefull for things superfluous, by arte or mechanicall industry, preparing those onely, which are sufficient for humane liuing, leadeth a pleasant and con­tented life: many other reasons might be produced, to shew, that nobilitie, is rather in the kinde of thinges wicked, then good, which not to appeare a Rhethoritian, I will passe o­uer: being well assured, that there is not any of these most noble gentlemen, which to themselues are not priuie, of the truth of this my conclusion, and that repent not them­selues a thousand times the day, to haue beene noble borne. It befitteth not (signiour Counte) answered Varano, your no­ble minde, nor these most gentle creatures, which here giue care round about vs, to enter into so sinister opinion: For Nobilitie is not only, not to be recounted amongst things wicked, but is a most pretious good, by al qualities and con­ditions of men, honored and esteemed, & so far off is it from depriuing of libertie, that rather it reacheth a helping hand to deliuer from seruitude, there being no greater serui­tude then vice, as before I haue saide, and the Diuines af­firme, [Page 231]Nobilitie as a most cleare seeming glasse reflecting continually on the eies of him noble, the glorie of his ance­stors valor inuiteth to illustrate his mind with vertue, to re­semble them, as also to shun vice. Wherupon Q. Fabius Ma­ximus and Scipio were wont to say, that beholding the Ima­ges of their predecessors, they foūd their mind wonderfully inflamed vnto vertue. I confesse signior Conte, that Nobili­tie is a cleere lampe, which causeth wicked actions, no lesse than good to appeare, and in this respect, is principally wor­thy to be placed in the kinde of things good, for shee spur­reth and enflameth vnto vertue, as wel with feare of infamy, as with hope of commendation, wherefore this glorie of Nobility not discouering it selfe, in the operations of them ignoble, they want this pricke of feare and reproach, ney­ther thinke they themselues bound to proceed further then that their predecessors haue performed: and to men noble it seemeth great opproby, not to attayne at least to the boundes, set downe vnto them by their first founders, and therefore in a manner it alwayes falleth out, that in armes, and vertuous actions, the most singular and excellent men, be of nobility: For Nature hath inserted a certaine secret vertue, in the seede of all things, which giueth them force and property, to be like the beginning, from whence they are deriued: The which is manifested, by that wee euerie day see in men, who are borne of shape and proportion, not onely like to their fathers, but also resembling many times, their grandfathers and great grandfathers.

The like is perceiued also in the race of horses, bullocks, and other creatures, as further euen in trees, that the boughes and braunches doe alwayes in a manuer resemble the stocke and trunke of the tree: And if at any time they degenerate, it proceedeth from the Husbandmans negli­gence. The like whereof happeneth to menne, who be­ing borne, if with good education they bee manured, are alwayes in vertue like those from whome they do proceede, and oftentimes better too. But if they want good pruners, [Page 224]and those that of them should haue a care, they become wild and sauage, neuer bringing forth good fruit: I grant also, that nobilitie in the end sinketh vnder that ponderous weight of pouerty; notwithstanding, if he noble, together with riches, hath not wholy lost his generositie of minde, there can not want meanes, and honorable courses for his raising vp, three of which, in my opinion, are of great moment; one is, by consecrating himselfe to God, and euen as he by fortune is abandoned, so with heroycall vertue, to shew himselfe a con­temner of the world and fortune: another is, by dedicating himselfe to the honorable seruice of princes: the third is, by practising the most noble profession Military. And there is no doubt, but that he noble, hath euer a special aduantage o­uer him ignoble, although in vertue they be equall. For, if there should be two men, who had not by good or bad acti­ons, giuen any former trial of themselues, presently as it is knowne that the one is nobly borne, and the other not, with euery one he ignoble shal be lesse esteemed, than the other, noble; and it is necessary, that one ignoble, by many ende­uours, and in long time, imprint in the minde of men, a good opinion of himselfe, which the other in a moment, and on­ly by being a Gentleman, hath acquired. Al the standers by, confirmed this opinion of Signior Hercole. And Count Palla Strozzi, seeing that Calcagnino replied no further, I would willingly vnderstand, said he, from whence this word Gentleman hath had his originall; as also if it be alone, to be noble, and to be a genileman: in that by these last words you vttered, wherein you confound these termes, it seen eth they are the selfe same things. Notwithstanding I see many, who though of meane qualitie, yet being but well apparel­led, they professe gentilitie; and euer they confirme their speeches, by swearing by the faith of a Gentleman, this making mee doubtful, and sometimes absolutely to beleeue, that to call a Gentleman dooth not properly signifie noble, but rather, and honest man, and of gentle customes. And Va­rauo: Touching your first demand, I am of opinion, that this [Page 225]word Gentle was deriued from the Latine, as also the grea­ter part of those termes, which in our vulgar tong wee com­monly vse: For gentle, among the Latins, signifieth as much as, of the selfesame familie; and in like maner, they were cal­led gentle, who had the selfesame name, as we reade in Ci­cero, who speaking of Tullius Hostilius, calleth him gentle, and writeth in his Topickes, that they be gentle, who amongst themselues are of one name, and haue their originall from free men, whose predecessors haue neuer indured seruitude. Whereuppon wee may gather, that this woorde gentle, agreeth with no other, but with persons of noble fami­lies: And therefore I iudge, that this worde, which in olde time signified thus much, that this man was noble, to­gether with him of such a familie, and these men were no­ble with those of another familie, enlarging now somewhat his signification, generally noteth vnto vs, that one noble is somwhat more, and as amongst them they were called gen­tle, who descended of noble familie, so now those noble are called Gentlemen: so that wee may conclude, the name of gentleman to be proper to him noble, and that to one igno­ble it can no wayes be applied. To the second demand, not­withstanding, Dant, Petrarch, and Boccace, haue indifferent­ly vsed these two terms, Noble and Gentle: yet do I make some difference betwixt them, and holde opinion, that the name of gentleman hath a farre more restrained significati­on than this word, noble, and that a gentleman is he, who by the Philosopher is called Geneos, as much as to say, gouer­nours, in whom appeares, not only the vertue of kinde, but also that of his proper selfe: for though as I saide, the name gentle is proper to him noble, yet without vertue, he shal e­uer be an vnworthy possessor thereof: and therefore I thus conclude, that the man noble without vertue, and he vertu­ous without nobilitie, can neuer properly be termed a gen­tleman. Then, as your conclusion standeth with reason (said Strozza) so doe I coniecture, that the number of true Gen­tlemen is very small, whereas on the contrary the multitude [Page 226]of them is infinite, who vsurpe this title: (being not onely men noble vitious, and the ignoble vertuous, but also, who­soeuer by meane of wealth can liue idlely, although hee bee most ignoble and vitious, professeth himselfe a gentleman, so that if any man should obiect vnto him, Thou arte not a Gentleman, presently, as if hee had receiued some notable iniurie, he would make answer with the lye: neither would he refuse combate vpon this quarel, as being perswaded, that hee fought in a iust cause. Your opinion, sayd Varano, is conformable to that the Philosopher sayeth, which is, that all men, in wordes, vsurpe vertue, and nobilitie, but of such as be truely noble and good, there is not twentie, in any one place, to be found. This demaund of Count Palla, pleased al the knights and gentlemen very well: and the answere, thereunto, of Ʋarano, was highly commended. When Ca­ualiere Gualing: You hitherto Signior Hercules, haue so plen­tifully and particularly discoursed of nobilitie, as from this day forward we may thinke that there remaineth not any thing further, which vpon this argument can bee produced: yet for al this shall I not bee fully satisfied, if you set not downe, some distinct insormation of the degrees of Nobili­tie: for that is no true nor sufficient cause, of ones beeing more noble than another, in that the antiquitie and number of his predecessors is the greater, as in the beginning it ap­peereth you would haue inferred: for being so, it would fol­low, that a priuate gentleman, whose bloud were more aun­tient, than that of a King, or Duke, should then either king or duke be more noble: the which as an inconuenience to some, wold neuer be yeelded you. I desire you therfore tou­ching this point to runne ouer the degrees of nobilitie Ʋa­rano made answer, It appeareth to be a subiect proper vn­to the Ciuilians, for a parte of iustice, being conuersant in in distributing punishments, rewards, and honours, it is re­quisite that the Ciuilians vnderstand distinctly, and discusse of degrees of nobilitie, to the end that with geometrical and equall proportion, they may conferre their dignities, titles, [Page 227]and preeminences, whereof Nobilitie seemeth principally worthie. Notwithstanding, to giue you satisfaction, buil­ding vppon my foundations: I diuide nobility into fiue de­grees or orders. The first ascending, is them noble, who ha­uing taken original of riches & indifferent vertue, neuer en­creased nor diminished, are called priuate Gentlemen. The second is, of those who are honored further with noble en­feofments, as also with iurisdiction and title of Counts. The third haue equall iurisdiction, with title somewhat more e­minent, and are called Marquesses. The fourth is the dig­nitie of Dukes: the fift and highest is that of Kings. These degrees, haue amongst themselues like proportion of nobi­litie, as in them of vertue there is supposed. Seeing honours & prerogatiues, are imparted to nobilitie correspondent to the vertue, which in their kind is presumed to bee: the first degree therefore grounded on indifferent vertue, is iuferior to all the rest: and the last, wherein vertue heroycall is sup­posed, being that of kings (called for the same reason by Homer, shepheards of people) is most superiour: the other three bee part inferiour, part superiour: seeing the second more noble then the first, must giue place to the third, fourth, and fift: the third superiour to the first and second, shall giue preeminence to the fourth and fift, the fourth, before the other three inferiors, shall yeede preeminence to the fift.

If I conceiue you rightly (added Gualinguo) you would say that priuate Gentlemen must giue place to Countes, Counts to Marquesses, Marquesses to Dukes, Dukes to Kings, and this standeth with reason. Although in Germany it may bee through abuse, Countes goe before Marques­ses: as also in the kingdome of Naples, Princes before dukes. To this title of Prince (said Varano) I haue ascribed no par­ticular degree of nobilitie, considering it is an attribution to al great Lords, & that distinguisheth not one potētate from another, but the prince from his subiects: & if it be particu­larly ascribed, it agreeth as seemes, to the eldest sons of kings [Page 228]and Dukes: I beleeue also (said Gualinguo) that not without some special reason, you haue omitted the principallest de­gree of Nobilitie, whereunto all those noble, and most no­ble, doe willingly giue place, and that is the degrees of the Emperour and Pope. The Emperour as Emperour, and the hie priest as Pope, cannot concurre (answered Ʋarano) with the definition of nobilitie, nor make any order of nobilitie: and I say, as Emperor, or Pope: For there is no impediment, but that one chosen Emperour, or Pope, may come of royal and most noble stocke, which may manifestly appeare vnto you, seeing a man brings nobilitie from his mothers womb, but so can he not bring with him, either the Empire, or Popedome, ech of these degrees being disposed by election and not by succession: but a man may be borne, a Marques, a Duke, or a King, speaking of such principalities and king­domes as come by succession. And though Emperours goe before Kings, and the Pope not only before Kings, but also, before the Emperour himselfe: of this, nobilitie is not the cause, but their dignitie, the which noteth in those subiects so great excellencie of vertue as is woorthy of all superemi­nencie. Howe can it be, replied Gualinguo, but if the Empe­rour and Pope, haue prerogatiue to distribute the greatest titles of nobilitie, considering they may make, Counties, Marquesses, Dukes and Kings, that they should not be no­ble, yea and most noble themselues? And Ʋarano: I proued vnto you by liuely reasons, that no Prince, how mighty soe­uer, can giue nobilitie, although he may adorne, and ampli­fie it, with titles, enfeosments, and honors, which be the re­wards, not so much of nobilitie, as vertue: but if I shoulde graunt you, that the Emperour or Pope, might make an o­ther man noble, yet coulde you not conclude for this, that they were to be recounted in the number of those noble: for the Sunne also is of power to produce heate in these inferi­our bodies, yet the Sunne (if wee will giue credite to the Philosopher) is not hote himselfe. Very wel (said Gual.) I now vnderstand you, your meaning is, that the Emperor and [Page 229]be noble virtually, but not formally (to vse these scholastical termes) which hath no other signification, but that they in one sort more excellent the those noble themselues, possesse nobilitie, as they that haue the authoritie to create & aug­ment Nobilitie: and for this I rest satisfied, although I de­sire yet to vnderstand somewhat further, whether in euerie one of these orders of nobilitie, there bee degrees of more and lesse, or if all those that are of the selfe same degree and order, be equally noble: so that amongst them no prece­dence occurreth. In that those noble of the selfesame order, (answered Varano) when they meete togither, cannot set all vpō one seat, nor be comprehended in one place & circuite, being necessarie, that one must needes sit on the right hand, another on the left, one aboue, and another vnderneath: so is it requisite for the giuing of due place to euerie one, that some circumstances of better and worse, bee considered, which circumstance and difference for all this, shall not bee specificall, nor change the nature or substance of the thing, but rather be vniuersall and general, to all the orders of No­bilitie: And surely it is verie conuenient, that amongst pri­uate gentlemen, there be no account at al made of this dif­ference, or precedence: for besides the decency for yong men to giue place to the elders, it is further liberal educati­on, and noble courtesie, for one Gentleman to honour ano­ther, labouring euer to assigne him the superiour place, but amongst great princes, there is speciall returning made of it, and often times question is mooued, touching preemi­nence. And what is the difference? (sayde Gualinguo.)

In my iudgement (answered Varano) the differences are of two sorts, which in al orders of Nobilitie, be worthie to be equally counterpeased, and whereunto in al reason, pre­eminence is to be giuen: one is, antiquity of bloud, that is, the number of worthie predecessors, the other is, that Nobi­lity which is termed the foure discentes, that is, of those who discend from foure generations, not onely of men, but also of women noble, and this kind of nobilitie is so highly [Page 230]esteemed in Spaine, as that the Catholike King giueth the Knighthoode or order of Saint Iames, to none but such no­ble, as besides the demerite of their owne proper vertue, proue also this lineal discention▪ Gualinguo replied no more, and signior Hercules now weary of discoursing, thinking he had sufficiently satisfied the Queenes commaundement, would haue giuen place to some other recreation, and con­tentment; but the Queene beckened to Signior Antonio Ba­risano called the Greeke, to come before her, who being a­riued that day, stoode by in a corner of the roome to heare this argument, and smiling commanded him, that hee also should moue some doubt, and oppugne Signior Hercules. This man is an honorable Cittizen of Scio, who after the Turkes occupying of that Iland, not being able to endure the hard seruitude of these Barbarians, came into Italie, and knowne in Ferrara for one learned, hee was intertained by his highnes, with a stipend, and had the publike reading of the greeke tongue committed vnto him: and further, being of pleasant and iocund conuersatiō, as one that taketh great delight in facet iestes, being audatious to vtter his opinion in any argument, hee is therefore most acceptable to all the nobilitie of the cittie, but especially to women: hauing ther­fore done dutie to the Queene, he spake after this sort. It were easie for me (most famous Queene) it hauing beene very doubtfull, to contradict, whatsoeuer hath beene deli­uered by signior Hercules, but because it wanteth not much of supper time, I will only alleadge, how I cannot tollerate, that women, being most imperfect creatures, should haue a­ny part in nobilitie, as he rather like a sicophant and slatte­rer, then a sincere approouer of truth, without any shame at all hath affirmed; he to himselfe knowing very wel, that he speaketh both against reason, and common vse: which ac­knowledge nobilitie from no other but the man, and that de­seruedly: for the female (if the philosopher be worthy of credit) is no other then an imperfect male, framed through the error of nature: who intendeth euer to fashion male, & [Page 231]a woman compared to a man, hath the like proportion, as there is, betwixt sence, and reason; and to argue somewhat more effectually, it is a thing certaine, & by the same philo­sopher affirmed, that in generatiō of mā, male giueth forme, and female matter: this conclusion also in al vniuersities is receiued, that al deformitie, and imperfection, in any thing generate, proceedeth from matter, as on the contrary, all good properties depend on forme: neither for any other re­spect, are incorporeal substances excellenter than those cor­poreal, but that these with matter are conioynd, & the other from it altogether separate; which being true, how can it be affirmed, that a woman, who by administring matter, is the cause of al imperfectiō, shuld giue to a man the least shadow of nobilitie? That a woman hath no part in nobility, & that she wholy dependeth on the man, the lawes and records of Roman Emperors do confirme: and amongst other, there is a text in Vlpine, where we reade, that husbandes bring their wiues, excellent dignitie, as also their fathers doe the like, while they com to be maried with men of common sort: be­sides this, there is a record of Antony, that the women born of Consolar, or Pretorian fathers may retaine the gentilitie of their stocke, being maried to noble men, and not of priuate condition, as also there is another testimoniall of Valente and Ʋalentino, that wiues may be honorable, though ignoble, & be enobled according to the nobilitie of their husbands, but afterwards, if they take an husband of meaner condition, de­priued of their dignity, they follow the quality of their hus­bands: who seeth not that from these lawes and recordes, a most infalible conclusion may be drawne, that women haue not any part in nobilitie: but follow the nobilitie & quali­tie of man, as the shadow doth the body: So that of them­selues if they haue no nobilitie, how can they place it vp­on an other? Wherefore Signior Hercules, laying aside a­dulation, and the ouer great desire you haue of their grace, and fauour, sincerely confesse the trueth, and exclude wo­men, as most imperfect creatures, from this esteemed and [Page 232]embraced condition, which we cal Nobility: Signior Barisa­no (most excellent Queen) (said Ʋarano) putting confidence in a poetical & vaine fable, that women naturally loue where they are not beloued, & esteeme greatly of such as cōtemne them, by reiecting women openly, laboureth to satisfie the great desire he hath of them to be beloued and regarded: But as in censuring the natural dispositions of womē, he is decei­ued, and as he boldly produceth slaunder for truth, so hope I, that in vaine he desireth their grace and fauor: I affirme therefore, that women most beautiful and perfect creatures, may, not only enoble themselues, but further with their pro­per vertue, make another partaker of Nobility, & that they, as to forme man, so to accomplish him entirely noble, are most necessary: I yeeld that nobility principally dependeth on man; but so I adde withall: that the nobility of a woman so greatly importeth, as that he cannot be counted perfectly noble, who shalbe borne of a base woman: neither wil I vse any other armes in subduing you, then your owne: For it is true, that in the seede of man, life is potentially conteined, which is forme: & bloud in the womās wombe is the matter, wherof the body is formed, so that the soule from man, and the body from woman, haue their original: But further also I auerre, that if noble forme, shalbe brought to noble matter the thing compoūded wil be perfectly noble: but if the mat­ter be base, notwithstāding the forme be noble, the compoūd wil not be absolutly noble, but shal want one degree of no­bility being that of matter. Tell me in earnest, signior Anto­nio would you not more respect theimage of Caesar in gold, then the same, & by the selfe same hand, engrauen in lead, or brasse? and this would you do, neither for the form which is is the same, nor in respect of the artificer being alone, but only for the matter which is more beautiful, and excellent. I graunt you that material, and corporal things be lesse excel­lent then those immaterial and corporeal: as also that matter is a cause of imperfection, as she is the subiect of alteration, transmutation, and instabilite in things not permanent; not­withstanding [Page 233]comparing of the materiall and corruptible thinges one with another, they which haue more pure, and better disposed matter, do questionlesse proue the much more worthy and excellent things; which the Philosopher here confirmeth, saying, that in all thinges wherein matter is required, the better matter shalbe the more beautiful, and excellent will they fall out: and to prosecute their purpose, if it be true, that the soule followeth the temperature of the body, as the learneder sort affirme, and as wee our selues haue experience, how can you denie, that the temperature of the body, giuen by woman, should not be of great momēt to the framing of nobilitie, as well as celestiall influence, see­ing the minde, if it haue a body euill tempered, and inclined to vice, can hardly be resplendant by those vertues, where­vppon nobilitie is grounded: You cannot denie, and I know it assuredly, but that the body made by woman, hath parte in nobilitie (although it administreth matter) seeing wee perceiue, that dayly from the qualities of the body, as from manifest caracters and demonstrations, we vsually progno­sticate another mans conditions, in that the shape, counte­nance, gestures, and motions of the body, many times pro­cure vs to know a man or a woman, not so much as euer seen by vs afore, to be noble, or ignoble. You say, that womā is an imperfect man; admit I should grant you this, which not­withstanding is false, yet would I affirme that this imper­fection is not substantiall, but accidentall: for the Philoso­pher intendeth not, that she should be lesse reasonable, then man; but calleth her, imperfect man, in that she wanteth but one thing only to be man, and this thing is of no importance to humane perfection: so that as the being more then wo­man, giueth not perfection to man, so doth not the beeing lesse then man, bring imperfection to woman: although I thinke it as far off from truth, that woman is a defect of na­ture, or formed against her intention, as I iudge it false and vntrue, that nature mindeth not the preseruation of humane kinde, which no lesse by womā, then by man, is made perpe­tual: [Page 234]whereof the philosopher aduising himselfe, in the selfe­same booke, he addeth, that nature, inteutiue to vniuersall good, with special prouidence, fashioneth, sometimes male, and sometimes female. The defects of nature, bee no other but monsters, and seldome are produced; women are so far off from being monsters, that of all thinges vnder heauen, there is not any one more excellent or beautifull; who not seldome, and in small number, but in farre greater multitude then men, are produced into the worlde, through singular grace and fauor, of louing and gentle nature, and by the au­thor himselfe of nature. Confesse therfore your offence, sig­nior Antonio, and demand pardon; for your Vlpian in those imperiall recordes by you cited, shal not be sufficient to mit­tigate the least dramme of those punishments, which from these Ladyes hang ouer your head, in defence of whom a­gainst the lawes and recordes by you alledged, I will intro­duce the authoritie of Virgil, and a decree, of the most pru­dent Venetian commonwealth, for manifestation, how great a portion women haue in nobility, Virgil speaking of Dranes, saith:

Who seeth not, that by these verses, Ʋirgil intendeth, that women should, not only haue a part in nobilitie, but fur­ther, that by themselues they are sufficiēt to giue noble des­cent. The Venetian decree, commandeth, that the sonnes of a base woman, although borne in lawful matrimony, shal not be accepted to the trial of nobilitie, neither in any sorte be admitted to their magistracies, and councels; those most prudent and noble Signiors imagining (as truly they may) that without the nobilite, and generositie of mothers, no­bilitie in children cannot be preserued immaculate. If wo­men, added the Greeke, be incapable of those vertues, that make men noble, & famous, how can it be, that they should haue any part in nobilitie? except peraduenture, you think, that the practise of needle and spindle, deseruedly ordained to women, are amongst all liberall artes, the most noble. And Ʋarano: The needle, and spindle vsed of women with­out [Page 235]auarice, as they are noble and commendable exercises, so be they no impediment, but that they may proportio­nably be capable of al those vertues, as wel to customes ap­pertaining, as to the minde which concur with men: seeing they want none of those faculties, nor any of the instru­mēts, which the mind imploieth in vertuous operations. But if God and nature, neuer made any thing in vaine, as all the wise affirme, then we cannot suppose, that vnderstanding senses as wel interior, as exterior, and also the corpore all instrumentes that women haue like to men, bee made in vaine, and that they as wel as men, may not vse the same in­struments for the acquiring of prudence, knowledge, wise­dome; and finally, for the practising of any liberall art: ther­fore the diuine Philosopher, in fauour of women, in his common wealth, by liuely reason, laboureth to prooue, that women are apt to al those things, whervnto men accommo­date themselues, as also are capable of heroicall vertue: and Plutarch made a book of the vertu & excellency of women And although the Philosopher affirmeth, that betwix: women and men there is the like proportion, as betweene sence and reason: yet intendeth he not by this, that a man should be reasonable, & a woman depriued of reason: but hee dilating of domesticall societie, minding to inferre, that as sence naturally must obey, and reason command, so in the best gouernment of an house, a woman naturally should o­bey, & a man command. And this iurisdiction which a man hath ouer a womā, saith he, ought to be a ciuil, & not seruile dominion: and a little afterwards, he addeth, that though a woman haue not mortall vertues in that perfection as hath a man, yet notwithstanding, that shee also is indued with for­titude, iustice, temperance, & with that prudence, which of it self is sufficient to obey well, towardes him that know­eth as well howe to commaunde. Although women, re­plied the Greeke, haue in them those poyntes by you de­liuered, yet are they with so many other euill qualities ac­companied, as that hardly they can effect any thing good. [Page 236]As they that are naturally cold, of bodies tender, soft, & ouer delicate, nature hauing framed them, rather for procreation of man, than for any other effect: seeing in all other respects, they are but impedimēts: therfore Cato said, that if the world could be without woman, our conuersation should be like vnto God: this great wise man, by this minding to inferre, that man liuing in the company of so imperfect a creature, he could not but leade a miserable life. But that you signior Hercules beleeue not, that I vtter as we prouerbially say, no­thing but wind, and that I am rather a slaunderer, than a re­porter of trueth, heare what the Philosopher saith, describ­ing the nature of women: Woman is apt to mourning, la­mentation and despaire: she is enuious, slaunderous, bitter, obstinate, pensiue, impudent, a liar, slouthful, fearful, and ea­sie to be deceiued: And the Philosopher in the sixt of his lawes affirmeth, that feminine sex is so wicked, and by na­ture so malitious, as that hardly it can be brought in subiec­tion vnder the lawes. What thinke you of the commendati­ons these Philosophers attribute to women? are they not sufficient to shew, how worthy they be, to haue any part, or preeminence, in nobility? Defend them as much as you wil, for you shal neuer make me beleeue, that of an asse, may be made a gallant courser. If at this day (answered Ʋarano) al writings were not replenished, with the praises of women, I would contend with magnificent phrase to set foorth the greatnes of their vertue: seeing the exāples of heroical ver­tue in women, ancient, and of these times, is no lesse to be ob­serued, then in men, but considering their commendations are already well knowne, it is not now my intention to play the Orator: onely as a defender of equitie, I will affirme so much, as may suffice for the brideling of your maledictions. It is true, and I denie it not, Signior Antonio, that the author of nature, minding to place, the flower of beauty in women, fashioned them, with a beautifull, soft, and delicate body, to the end that, together with the sense of sight, giuing delight to feeling, they might inflame in man that desire which cau­seth [Page 237]eternitie: whereupon, as in woman, beauty is a great or­nament, so to be soft and delicate, procureth in her no imperfection: but if that be true which the Philosopher affirmeth, that those delicate of skin & flesh, are the more pregnant of wit, we may conclude, that women are more apt than men, to science, sapience, and all those vertues, which most of al in men appeare. It is also true, that Nature intentiue to gene­ral preseruatiō, in al kinds hath placed a female sex, & male, or the vertue of the one and other; but so is it false, that wo­man is produced to no other end, than for the fourming of man: for to beget their owne likes, is the proper end, of plāts and creatures vnreasonable; but of the reasonable creature, felicitie is the proper end, which man in this life can neuer enioy without woman, which by testimony of the Philoso­pher is confirmed, who in his Oeconomiks saith, That man, as other creatures is not made onely to bee, but to be well, and therfore the naturall conuersation of woman, is neces­sary for him, not so much to generate, as from her to receiue great benefit, which being true, as doubtles it is, so shal it be a special heresy to affirm, that a woman is any burden, or that without the woman our cōuersation could be happy, for this repugneth to reason, experience, & to the authoritie of this great Philosopher, who also affirms, that the family can not be perfect without woman: & that as a woman is the halfe of a family, so be women the halfe of a Cittie: and further, in his Oeconomy he saith, there can not be any thing more holie, or worthier of a wise man, than to seeke coniunction with an excellent and commendable wife, and by her to bring forth children: as also that to a man of sincere minde it is no waies befitting, rashly to conuerse with euery woman, to the end that of a corrupt wife, he beget not children like their mo­thers: by which words, it may easily be imagined how high­ly the Philosopher esteemed the mothers nobilitie & gene­rositie in procreation of children. Further with the authori­ty of Homer, he affirmes, that in this life, there cannot greater felicity befal men, than when the husband, and wife gouern [Page 238]their familie with one wil and consent. And Hesiodus contra­rie to Catoes seueritie, sayd, that three things to a man were Verie necessary, an house, a wife, and a yoke of oxen, min­ding to testifie, that domestical conuersation with a woman, was necessarie for the good and happie life of a man. And the Philosopher in his Oeconomikes, saith, that the husbande who esteeneth not his wife, is no lesse ingrate, then hee, which contemneth his benefactor: by this inferring, that woman is not only a comfort, but also to man a special bene­fit. Seeing the honest & chaste woman is, not only a compa­nion to her husband in his bed & contentments, but further, an ease to his labors, in his afflictions, a comfort, in his infir­mities a medicament, full of louing and affectionate serui­tude, neither can man, without the assistance of the woman, gouerne well his house, seeing whatsoeuer the man getteth abroad, she faithfully disposeth & preserueth in the house. But whom will wee beleeue, if we giue no credite to expe­rience? Do not we our selues find, that without women, there is no pleasure or sweete contentment to be tasted, as they, who with their sweetnes, temper the bitter of this our life, the which without women would be more rusticall and in­culte, then that of the most wilde & sauage beasts, they re­moouing from our hearts, vile and base thoughts, ease vexa­tions, miseries, and those turbulent cares, that often accom­panie vs, and with their great beautie, euer representing be­fore our eies, the image of diuinity, so far off are they from withdrawing vs frō worthie enterprises, that rather they stir vp our wits, & exalt thē to knowledge of greatest & highest things. But this your deprauatiō is exceeding great, Signior Antonio, seeing, to procure credit to your calumniations, you Vse the Philosophers authority, in sinister sence, who thogh describing the nature of womē, he placeth in thē, the excesse of some wicked inclination, yet doth he not altogither free men from them: but which is worse, you a prodigal dispēser of their rebukes, & in their commendations, most couetous, spend many superfluous wordes, in discouering their vices, [Page 239]malignantly concealing their are vertues: and yet your own conscience knoweth, that in the same place by you cited, he describeth women to be more merciful than men, better re­tentiue of memory, more vigilant, more sober: And Plato in Menone, and in the fift of his Commonwealth, esteemes wo­man; in a maner equall in vertue with man, who ordained, that the gouernment of the Citie, the magistracies, as well of warre, as peace, and all other offices, should be common betwixt men and women: and the Philosopher, although he esteeme not woman in euery respect, equal with man, not­withstanding, proportionable, he attributeth vnto them, temperance, iustice, & fortitude: but if without preiudicing truth, I shuld grant you, that womē naturally were inclining to some vice, I would also affirme, that they are so much the more to be recōmended, by how much subduing their wic­ked inclinations, they liue vertuously. Here Varano stayed: The Greeke beeing about to reply, as hee who wanteth no words, the lady Tarquinia Molza smiling said, Now for gods sake proceed no further, Signior Barisano but bee contented with what you haue hitherto spoken, in reproch of women, to the end these Ladies, who heere round about attend, de­seruedly prouoked against you, after the maner of Baccides, make you not a new Orpheus, The Greeke laughed & said these Gentlewomen, most gratious Ladie, haue rather cause to thanke me, than to be offended: For if I had not contra­dicted Signior Hercules, they shoulde neuer haue heard so great commendation, as hee hath bestowed on them: and I am assured, that the more I had charged thē with blame, the more had their praises like the Palme tree, reached vp euen vnto heauen. With these wordes the discourse was conclu­ded, and the Queene perceiuing, that it would not be long ere the Court returned, commaunded the Lady Camilla Mosti, and the Lady Camilla Beuelacqua, that they shoulde dance: when they sodainly taking hands, troad two measures to the sound of the lute, and danced the Canaries with good grace, & to the contentment of those that beheld them: but [Page 240]the Duke, with the rest of the Court arriued: the Queene rising vp, all departed to the Duchesse lodging, where was prepared a most melodious Consort, of diuers musicall in­struments & sweet voyces, which consort continued a good part of the supper: the tables taken vp, some time was spent in diuers sports, & other pleasant relaxations: whē the duke perceiuing the aire ouercast with most obscure cloudes, and that the windes with violent blasts, threatned continual and powring raines, in preiudice of their pleasures, in hunting and fishing, gaue order to set forwarde the morning follow­ing. His highnes therefore rising betimes, and hearing the ordinarie diuine seruice, imbarked himselfe with the excel­lent duchesse, the Lady Donna Marfisa, the Lady Donna Bra­damante, with the dames of the Court, in a most sumptuous barke, causing the Buccintore to be appoynted for the Ladie Countesse of Sala, and the rest of the Court. This is a great vessell built with such art & workmanship, as than that there could not any haue beene made, either more beautiful, or sumptuous, considering it hath Hals, Chambers, Galleries, and seates, so that to the beholders it seemeth a most admira­ble sight: and I am certaine, that if it had beene in the time when Iason salled to fetch the golden Fleece, this, and not that of the Argonantes, should thither haue set saile: The Knights and gentlewomen therfore accommodating them­selues in this bake, after that with most dilicate vinds they had broken their fast, the Lady Countesse of Sala, made a motion that there might a Queene be chosen by election, & not by lot, whose Empire should not further extend, then the Barke they were in, and was to continue for the whole passage, to the ende that she by mouing some pleasant dis­course, might cut off the tediousnesse of the voyage: Each one therefore beginning to whisper in the eares of another, by little and little, with the generall applause of all, the La­dy Tarquinia Molza, a Gentlewoman of Modona, was cho­sen Queene, for her rare and extraordinarie wit, by the du­chesle wonderfully beloued, and of all the Court reueren­ced, [Page 241]who after modest refusall, in the ende accepted this ho­nour and Empire: Euerie one stoode doubtfull, expecting, what the new Queene would command, for entertainment of that euening, when she, after some indifferent meditatiō, said: Amongst al the goods termed external, or of fortune, me thinks, that after honor, riches holdes the chiefest place, we seeing by experiense, that riches in a maner of al men are desired, they iudging, that nothing is more proportionable to humane felicitie, than riches: I therfore considering, that the other day honor, and yesterday nobilitie was very well discussed, prouided, I thought, that this shuld be acceptable to the company, I would make election of him, who to day should discourse of riches: and I beleeue this would not bee greatly from the purpose, Signior Hercules Ʋarano, hauing by liuely reasons auerred, that riches are the supportance, & stay of Nobilitie. Then all the standers by began to say to the Queen & among thēselues, that this could not but be a most pleasing and profitable discourse: and they were very instant, that she would commaund, who might thereof in­treate. The Queene therefore turning to Counte Hercole Tassone, a Gentleman of good customes, and with good let­ters adorned. You Signior Conte, said she, shall be the man, who must vndertake this enterprise, to discourse of riches: prouided, it may bee lawfull for any that will, to contradict you in all those things, which to them shall not seeme alow­able or conuenient: as also, that you in like maner be enioy­ned to make answer, according to the begun methode and course. Seeing it so pleaseth your Highnesse (renowmed Queene) said Count Hercole, that I, among so many of grea­ter worth than my selfe, should be he to vndertake this bur­den & charge, not to oppugne your Highnesse iudgement, which I esteeme far aboue my owne, I neither can, or wil in any sort refuse it: and so much the more willingly wil I ac­cept of it, by how much it is permitted any one to contradict me: For I hauing (as the reward of my barren inuention) little or nothing at al to bring forth, riches in my hands may [Page 242]easily fall into pouertie, and become beggarly, if these a­boundant wits by plentifull contradiction, do not sustain & reduce them to their proper end. Heere Tassone musing to himselfe, began afterwards in this manner.

THere be some (thrise excellent Queene) who hauing imployed their whole endeuor in ac­quiring of riches, and afterwardes, either through hard fortune, or by their own pro­per defects, finally constrained to liue poore­ly, not knowing how to bee reuenged, play the hypocrites; and shewing themselues contemners of riches, by filling o­ther mens eares with their blame and reproach, terme ri­ches, the mother of arrogancie, insolencie, and intemperance: affirming last of all, with Diogenes the Cinicke, that vertue cannot abide with riches. I both euer was, and am now more then euer, farre off from their opinion, and holde this as a firme conclusion, that a man in this worlde, cannot enioy a perfect and good life, without riches: conformable to which my opinion, assigning the proper definition of riches, I af­firme, that it is no other, but an heape and collection of all such instrumentes, and meanes, which to the sustentation, benefit, and ornament of an house, and ciuill life, are neces­saiye; without which, man cannot be called perfectly hap­pie: [Page 243]& therefore I say, it is an heape of al those instruments, because any of these failing, a man cānot absolutely be coun­ted rich: as also I affirme, that without riches a ciuill man can not bee happy: it beeing the principall instrument where with to exercise vertue; and therfore riches is no lesse worthy, by men to be esteemed, than it is: these instruments, which gathered togither, make that heape, which we call ri­ches, is diuided into seauen partes, that is, possessions, cattell, houses, mony, iewels, rich furniture, and seruants: possessions & cattell, serue for sustentation of humane life: houses, mo­ney and seruants for benefit: pretious iewells, and rich fur­niture for ornament. He then may truely be said to be rich, who hath sufficient, land, mony, heards, flocks, and of al other sorts of creatures, aswel commodious as delectable: hee that hath a conuenient and faire house, rich furniture, as well in vestments as ornaments of the house: and that possesseth al these things securely and iustly, being his after such a pro­pertie, as that he may sel or bestow them at his pleasure, and shall generally vse all these things, partly for commoditie, a­lotting some of the other onely to ornament and content­ment: Let him haue therefore, his farmes and possessions both fruitful, and beautifull: seeing fruitfulnes shal turne to his benefit, and beauty to his pleasure, and contentment: It is then requisite, they be planted and graffed with goodly rowes of vines, and fruitfull trees, and neare vnto them, a fine summer house, with gardens, faire orchards, plea­saunt, and shadowy groues, of which orchards, and gardens, he shall not make any emolument of importance, but onely vse them for pleasure and delight: I conclude therefore (most excellent Queene) that who in so many commodi­ties shal be aboundant, may be termed fortunate and happy, if hee be also of them a faithfull destributer and dispenser.

Heere Tassone making some pawse, the Greeke, eyther beleeuing he had no more to say, or at the least, very ha­stie, to contradict, stepping forward: Your discourse saide he, Signior Conte, hath had in it this one thing good, [Page 244]that it was but short and breefe: touching therest, the con­clusion you inferred is altogither false, contrarie to diuine and true Philosophie, the which by liuely reasons I hope to make knowne to this most famous Queen, all these graci­ous Ladies, and most noble knights. Soft and faire (saide Tassone) peraduenture you will not find it so easie to prooue my conclusion false, as you haue beene ready to cutte off my discourse. Pardon mee (replied the Greeke) if I haue bin somewhat too forward: for ielous of publike good, I could not tollerate, that you should further proceede, deliuering false doctrine: not being any thing more contrarie to truth, then to place riches in the number of those goods, which are proportionable to humane felicitie, it being in effect no o­ther then a masse and heape of those externall euilles, which of themselues are sufficient to breake and discipate all inter­nall goods, whereof whosoeuer is possesser, hee is woorthie to bee called happie. The truth of which my conclusion, I hope to prooue vnto you, by the reason and authoritie of the wisest Pholosophers. And beginning firste from the verie birth and originall of riches, it cannot bee good, seeing they spring from a corrupt and pestilent generati­on, they being the infamous ofspring of Couetousnesse, and guilty euen of the same flagition: and therefore the Philo­sopher sayth: euerie rich man is wicked, or the heire of a wicked man: this man hath beene enriched by vsuries, he by spoyles, another by treason: one is made rich by flatterie, another gaineth by incest and adulteries: a third sort ad­uance themselues by lyes: there be such as make benefit of their owne wiues, daughters, and sisters, as also to others, bloudshedding is profitable: Finally, it is but verie rare that wealth is gathered togither iustly, and with honestie, so that if it should bring felicity to man, wee might conclude, that felicitie were no other but a reward of iniquity. I fur­ther alleadge, how that is not good, which maketh not good the possessor thereof, but riches do not only, not make good, but procure the possessor of them to be wicked. That riches [Page 245]cannot make their possessor good. Seneca testifieth, saying, What do riches aduantage a foole, seeing by them he can­not become wise? but that they make a rich man to be wic­ked, it may by the testimony of the Philosopher be proued, who after this manner describeth the properties of the rich: the rich saith he, are proud, great iniuriers, insolēt, delicate, & intemperate. And Seneca conformable to this sayth, that riches puffeth vp the mind, hatcheth insolence and pride, acquireth enuie, disturbeth the minde, and induceth feare, whereas on the contrarie, modest pouertie maketh a man modest, industrious, secure, & is as it were a whip, that scour­geth one to vertue: therfore Arcesilaus said, that though po­uerty were bitter, yet brought it forth excellent children. And good Diogenes called pouertie, the wisedome that by it selfe was learned: minding to inferre, that pouertie, & not wealth, maketh a man wise: Thirdly, I will alleadge, how that it is no true good by an honest man to bee esteemed, whereof the man wicked may as well bee possessor as the good, yea, be he neuer so odious or contemptible a mā. And who seeth not that a ruffian, bawd, or any other common Vintner, may not bee a possessor of riches. Fourthly, a­mongst humane kind, that is no conuenient or proper good, which cannot be possessed without the wrong of many, but such is wealth, in that one cannot bee rich, but many must therefore become poore: therefore riches is no true good: Finally, that cannot be good, which to humane generation is an occasion of infinite euill: But riches are of this nature, for from them spring discordes, contentions, wars, enmities, rancois, and other such like euilles, therefore they are not good. Signior Count affirmeth, that this beatitude which we terme riches, serueth both for profit and ornament to hu­mane life: and if hee liued commodiously that had need of many things, this conclusion should bee true: but who see­eth not, that the richer any man is, of so many thinges the more hee hath need, hee not beeing able to vse or preserue wealth without many instruments and helps? and therfore [Page 246]that sometime is true, that whosoeuer possesseth much, wan­teth much: and contrariwise, hee that measureth his aboun­dance, not by superfluitie, but by natural necessity, hath need of litle: But what commoditie so great may riches bring, as may recompense the iealousie and care they minister vnto man, or requite that danger, which putteth to compromise the soules health, and bodily securitie of him rich? The rich, & not the poore, are a prey to murtherers, theeues, menquel lers, against these be poysons practised, and these be the men, who in strongest castles fear trecheries: O happy riches may we then wel say, seeing they art no sooner possessed, but se­curitie faileth them. And what shalwe say of ornament? It cannot be denied, but that costly garments, pretious iewels, sumptuous pallaces, magnificent furniture, are a speciall or­nament and glorie to the possessor thereof, that to haue a chest replenished with gold and siluer, to be euer accompa­nied with a great traine of seruitors, make a man worthy of great estimation. But O most transitorie kinde of glorie, see­ing man, by darkenesse it selfe, seeketh after light, not consi­dering, that in faire apparrell, and sumptuous pallaces, men admire the nature of matter, arte, and the architects inuenti­on, rather than the possessor of al these, and that the bright­nesse of iewelles is their owne proper splendor, and not of the man that weareth them: as also gold & siluer, is no other but red, and white earth, esteemed of only, through mens er­rour; finally, to be enuironed with many seruants, is nothing but to be beset with many enimies, which be so much the fit­ter to offend, as the other be externall, and these domestical enemies. If all these commodities gathered together, most renowmed Queene, serue for benefit, and ornament to hu­mane life, or whether they make a man happy or vnhappy, anyone of iudgement may discerne: for my part. I would rather affirm, that if felicitie (as saith Aristotle) is our own pro­per good, & cannot by any accident whatsoeuer be taken a­way, then that riches therein shuld haue no part, as it that by fortune giuen, may by her also, in a moment be taken away:

[Page 247]As further I would affirme, that cheefe good in this hu­mane life, were no other, but a stable and constant tranqui­litie of minde, which despising al those goods whereof for­tune is proude; and aboue all others, insolent riches, to bee onely confident in vertue: Notwithstanding, I attende my answere.

Beholde (most illustrous Queene) answered Tassone, one of that erronious crew, who iniuried by fortune, in re­uenge, contendeth to proue, that she hath not, so much as the least interest in humane felicity, & that the goods she cour­teously administreth, amongst which, riches are of no smal e­steeme, are not to bee recounted in the number of humane goods, as disproportionable vnto that, which of it selfe being sufficient, is called chiefe good: notwithstanding, I hope by so liuely reasons, to discouer this hypocrifie, as that there shal not be any of so simple iudgement, who giuing credite to his allegatious, will become a contemner of riches. I say then, that man, as hee is in forme from other creatures diffe­rent, so is his end from theirs, verie diuerse: the ende of o­ther creatures, is no other, but liuing, to generate those like themselues. Man borne in the Kingdome of Na­ture and Fortune, is not onely to liue and generate, but to liue well and happily: Nature of her selfe prouideth for other creatures, thinges sufficient vnto life: Nature procu­reth man to liue, but reason and Fortune cause him to liue well: creatures liue after the lawes of Nature, man liueth by Reason, Prudence, and Arte: liuing creatures may liue a solitarie life, man alone, beeing of himselfe insuffici­ent, and by Nature, an euill creature, without domestical and ciuill conuersation, cannot leade other then a mise­rable and discontented life: and therefore, as the Philo­sopher sayth very wel: That man which cannot liue in ci­uill companie, either he is a God, or a beast, seeing only God is sufficient of himselfe; and a solitarie life best a­greeth with a beast. Want therefore, and naturall de­sire of companie, and not fire (as others falsely affirme) [Page 248]gaue beginning to houses, villages, and Citties, which houses, villages, & citties, as without their necessary instru­mentes, they cannot be sustained, so without wealth are they of themselues insufficient, wealth beeing the principall of those instruments, that maintaine houses & cities: now a city being nothing else, but a body of men vnited together, suffi­cient of it self to liue, it is necessary, that like to a humane bo­dy it be compounded of vnlike mēbers, the which in good­nesse and dignitie, among themselues vnequall, all notwith­standing concurre to the good establishment of a Citty: wherevpon as it would be a thing monstrous, & incommo­dious, to see a humane body wholy compounded, of heads, armes, legs, or of other members vniforme in themselues; so would it be altogether as disproportionable, and a thing so would it be altogether as disproportionable, and a thing of it selfe insufficient, if all men in a Cittie, were artificers, husbandmen, souldiers, iudges, or of one selfe condition, & qualitie: There cannot therefore be any so vncircumspect, but he may perceiue, that for the preseruation, and liuing wel of a city, it is requisite, there be artificers, mercinaries, husbandmen, marchantes, souldiers, Iudges, Magistrates, Princes, and Priestes: which being (as it is) true; so is it like­wise conuenient, that there should be poore, rich, noble, & ignoble. And therefore they, who laboured to bring in a commonwealth, al men to one condition and qualitie, cre­ated a policie rather of celestial, thē terrestrial men: hauing no lesse erred, then did that Phisition, who sought to make harmonie of notes vnisone: for as of diuers notes and tunes it is compounded, and reduced onely to one note, ceaseth then to be harmonie, so of the diuers qualities of men is a cittie ordained, and reduced to one condition of citizens; on­ly, is not then any more a cittie, nor of it selfe sufficient. If therefore all these allegations bee true, you can neuer Sig­nior Antonio, banish riches out of a cittie, seeing they are a necessary instrument for her sustentation, and well imployd, be the supporters not of vice, but of vertue, and liberall artes: as contrariwise pouertie is the proper nourish­ment [Page 249]of artes mechanicall, which artes haue had their origi­nall, from nothing else, then from humane indigence. And if you, admitting riches to be in a cittie, should but be there­of a iust distributer, I am sure you would rather bestow thē on those who exercised liberall artes, and were capable of vertue, then on mechanicall, mercenarie, or husbandmen; seeing these being vnapt to vertue, and rather instruments, then partes of a commonwealth, their sordide liues requi­reth it not, whereas otherwise it is requisite, that vertuous men should liue with some liberal and commendable decen­cie. Speake not therefore, Signior Antonio, against your owne minde, but yeelding to reason, freely confesse, that ri­ches in themselues are good, & worthy to be placed, among those goods wished for: & though sometimes, they appeare wicked, yet is not this their owne defect, but rather the fault of his depraued minde, that possesseth, and badly vseth it: for as Signior Ʋarano, yesterday shewed, they are the mo­ther of liberall artes, the proppe of Nobilitie, good educa­tion, and gentle customes. And therefore the Philosopher saith, that doctrine, & nobilitie, rather accompanie the rich, then poore, in that hee cannot haue leasure, that wanteth commings in: affirming likewise, that from hence it procee­deth, that the rich abounding in those thinges, for want whereof, others commonly are vniust, and iniurious, rich men are better, then poore, and worthy to be called noble. I confesse, Signior Antonio, that vertue onely is the artifi­cer that frameth felicitie, but as the Artificer cannot work, without conuenient instruments, so vertu, without the gifts that nature and fortune ioyne vnto her, cannot bee perfect, nor true felicitie: but what need wee vse authoritie, and argumentes, to perswade this our Greeke, to fauour riches and rich men, seeing by his owne example, if not testi­mony, wee may prooue, that riches are good, and rich men vertuous, and well instructed, wee seeing dayly, that hee as a vertuous man, and well brought vppe, so doth hee al­wayes conuerse with the rich, and altogether shunne the [Page 250]familiarity of them poore, as seperate from vertue, and all good customes: as also that he, by those rich, as louers of ver­tue, and men vertuous, is better beloued and esteemed then the poore. It is true (saide the Greeke smiling) that I fre­quent the houses of the rich, and not of the poore; But yet, as doth the Phisition, who visiteth the sicke, and not the whole: as also, the selfe same Phisition is more by the weake desired, then the whole. But for all this, you not hauing ouerthrowne my reasons, I assure you, they stan­ding firme, I minde not to change my opinion. I am sure indeede (answered Tassone) that you will neuer change the houses of the rich, for the poore: for the poore enuie your vertue, and the rich loue, and striue to imitate it: and therefore it will be no difficult matter for mee, seeing you affect the rich, to make you also restore due honour to ri­ches. Beginning therefore at your first opposition, it is false, that riches either haue, or may haue, euill spring or originall, as those that borne with the world, and with the same coeternall, in respect of themselues, are good, and so knowne vnto you, by whom in fauour of felicitie, they are desired and sought after: but in that they may bee heaped vp togither, both by meane lawfull, and vnlaw­full, yea, and through humane malice, for the most parte, they are by vnlawfull meanes acquired: hereuppon it see­meth, that riches grow from that corrupt stocke you haue spoken of: notwithstanding, the defect is not in the riches, but in the man wicked, that badly acquireth, possesseth, and vseth them: yet may they for all this, as I say, haue a good originall: For often times, together with honour, they are giuen in rewarde of vertuous actions, as also fur­ther, good Fortune, sedulous industrie, honest frugalitie, may to another heape vppe riches, as Hesiodus in these ver­ses teacheth,

I yeeld vnto you, that riches cannot make good the pos­sessor of them, neycher can they make a foole, wise: seeing that onely internall goods, which be the perfections, and vertues of the minde are of force to make a man good: ri­ches being a good externall, can neither make the possessor of thē, good, or wicked: It is true also, that the Philosopher describing the customes of the rich, termeth them, insolent, proud, iniurious, and by such like titles: yet so we must ob­serue, that in his Rhethorike, discoursing of the customes, and inclinations of all qualities, and conditions of men, thus describeth them, as enclining to vice, to the end the orator, according to the disposition and inclination of the auditor, might the sooner moue him to that affection wherevnto he was bending, & after this manner easily perswade him: but he neuer affirmeth in any place, that riches is not to be pla­ced among those goods, that assist to humane felicitie, see­ing both houses, and citties, languish and consume without riches. It is no lesse true also, that euery wicked and vile man, may possesse riches, & yet is this no obstacle, but they may be good, & by a vertuous man esteemed: for if this rea­son shuld preuaile, health, strēgth of body, & beautie, shuld be goods vnworthy of a vertuous man, seeing likewise in men contemptible they are many times found. Signior An­tonio further alleadgeth, that riches to humane kind, is not profitable or good, seeing without the wrong of ma­ny, they cannot bee possessed, in that one cannot bee rich, but many through the same must become poore, and here­in he is not aduised, howe hee contradicteth his owne selfe: for supposing pouertie to bee euil, he comes to confesse, that riches, cōtrary to pouerty, is good: he addeth more ouer, that riches is not good, because it is occasion of many euils, which amongst men fall out, as controuersies, discordes, warres, murders, thefts, rapines, and such like. This [Page 252]opposition, is a most preualent proofe for vnderstanding, that riches is a principal good, seeing they mooue euerie ones desire and will, to endeuour by all meanes to attaine vnto them: and therefore hee had assigned a truer cause, in saying, that humane malice and pertinacie, and not riches, were the cause of all the abouenamed euilles: wee might also prooue by more reasons, that pouertie were rather the cause of those inconueniences, seeing the want of those things wherewith the rich men abound, kindleth desire and greedinesse in the poore, that afterwards is the cause of all those euils, which euerie day are committed: And there­fore the Philosopher, contrary to your Arcesilaus, sayth, that pouertie bringeth foorth seditions, and maleficences. Our Greeke yet further affirmeth, that riches is not com­modious, saying: that the richer any one is, the more things hee hath neede of: but if the definition of riches be true, of necessity his position must bee false, for where is the heape and collection of all necessarie instruments, for sustentation, benefit, and ornament of humane life, there can bee no de­fect, or want of any thing: and though riches procure a man to bee iealous ouer him selfe, and sometimes putteth him in daunger, yet from this reason can wee not conclude that they are wicked: but rather the contrarie, seeing there is no feare of loosing badde, but good thinges, which of their owne nature, bring the possessor into no danger, but rather is procured by mans couetousnesse and deprauation: as in like manner, lust is the cause, that the chastity of a faire woman is hardly secure, and yet must we not therefore say, that beautie is a wicked thing. I grant vnto you also Signior Antonio, that in faire apparel & sumptuous pallaces, the na­ture of matter & Architects wit is rather admired, then the rich possesser of these things: & that splendor & brightnes, is proper to the iewels, & gold, and not to the man rich, who therwith adorneth himself, but not withstanding this, if the rich man had not made this rich apparel, or built a sumptu­ous house for his own & publike benefit, neither could the [Page 253]nature of matter, nor the Architects wit, & inuention of thē ­selues, procure admiration: as also the beauty & splendor of iewels shuld remain buried in the inwardmost caues of the earth, except the rich man, discouering as it were the trea­sures of Nature, should not offer them to the beholders eies: beside this, in all these ornaments, the beames of magnifi­cence shine, which is numbred amongst the principallest vertues heroycall. To possesse therefore, and vse all these things, both how, when, & with conueniēt measure & quan­tity, bringeth vnto man a singular decency, being truly wor­thie to be placed in the numbers of goods desired; and to be sought after, as in like maneral other kind of riches: I say likewise, that felicity is proper to vs, & cannot be taken a­way: as also, that riches being a good of Fortune, remaineth in the power of the same fortune. But we must obserue, that felicitie may be considered two maner of wayes, the first, as it dependeth of his proper efficient cause, which is vertue: the second, as it dependeth not only of the efficient, but also of al causes instrumentall, and the circumstances necessarily conioyned with the cause efficient, in the first maner consi­dered, it is our own proper, & cannot be taken away, because vertue true productresse of felicitie, is not subiect to blowes of fortune, neither haue honour, riches, nor any other externall goodes in it any part. In this manner the Philo­sopher obserueth felicitie, in the first of his Ethikes, when hee distinguisheth the felicitie of Platoes Idea, from Ri­ches, honour, and those contentments that the vulgar sort esteeme. In this manner also did hee consider it in the seuenth of his Politikes, where hee sayde: Felicitie hap­peneth not vnto vs through the goods of Fortune, but eue­ry one, the more hee possesseth of vertue and prudence, and after them frameth his opperations, the greater is his felicitie: and this is prooued by the testimonie of God him­selfe, who not for any good externall, but of himselfe, is happie and blessed. Felicitie considered after the seconde manner; it beeing no other but a collection, and heape of [Page 254]humane goodes, as well internall, as externall, which ioynt­ly together concurre, by meane of vertuous action, to the en­ioying of perfect and chiefest contentment: although it can not be wholy taken away, yet notwithstanding in many cir­cumstances it may be hindred. After this maner the Philo­sopher considereth it in the first of his Rhetorike, where he doth not only place, the goodes of the minde, amongst the parts of felicitie, but also the goods of the body, and those externall: In this sort also doth he obserue it, in the seuenth of his Ethickes, where he plainely affirmeth, that an happy man, hath neede of goodes externall, and of fortune, to the end, that in his operations hee may not be hindred: which thing, saith he, being very wel knowne, prosperous fortune, and felicitie, by many come to be termed, the selfe-same things. We must further note, that the Philosopher in the place by you cited, Vseth these formall words: Chiefe good is our proper owne: being such, as that hardly it can be taken from vs: He denieth not therefore, but that felicitie anay be taken away, but yet he saith, very hardly, minding to inferre, that it could not bee absolutely remooued, but may peraduenture bee defrauded of his circumstances. Out of which, wee may very well conclude, that felicitie should be depriued of her principall instrument, wanting riches: and that hee which is not rich, can not be perfectly happy, considering that he cannot exercise the Vertue of liberality, beneficence, and magnificence, which make a man woorthie of honour.

Me thinkes, Signior Antonio, saide the Queene, your cause is in such sort ouerthrowne, as that it booteth you litle to replie any further: and I am assured, that from these Signiors, you should not receiue the least suffragation of pouertie, if you were to gather their voyces by scruta­nie.

It would not be a iust and indifferent scrutany (most ex­cellent Queene, saide the Greeke, smiling) if the number of the rich were not equally ballanced, with as many poore: [Page 255]because passion, which is euer in the rich predominant, and not equitie, would giue sentence: Notwithstanding I will accept your Maiesties iudgement, as a firme decree: nei­ther will I further reply, expecting that one day I may bee made to conceiue, by one that with effects, and not words, shall prooue, that riches are good, and worthy of a vertu­ous man.

And although other perswasions were not sufficient, saide Count Guido Caleagnini, yet might experience mani­fest it vnto you, which euery day sheweth, that riches is not onely a necessary instrument of felicitie, but further, that among all worldly goodes, it holdeth chiefest place: see­ing riches without labour, dispenseth liberally to him rich, of all other goodes, which the poore man by vertue, can not with great industrie attaine vnto: And it seemeth he richly borne, is in like manner borne gratious, vertuous, woorthie to be beloued of euery one, and commended: the which by you learned, being wel and rightly vnderstoode, you dedicate your labours, not to the vertuous, but vnto the rich: And furthermore, wee see that Titles, and ho­nours, are by Princes, rather dispenced, to the rich, than to the poore, as likewise for one vertuous, that they re­taine in their Courtes, wee may reckon tenne rich: as those that are reputed, much more profitable and honou­rable to the commonwealth and Prince. with their riches, than are the vertuous with their vertue.

Howe greatly wealth exceedeth vertue (added Count Palla Strozzi) in my judgement, that wise aunswere gi­uen by Sophocles, to the wife of Hiero tyrant of Syracusa, manifesteth: For hee by her demaunded, whether it was better to bee rich or vertuous. I see the vertuous (aunswered hee) euery day at the rich mens gates, but neuer did I see the rich at the gates of the vertuous, being an euident signe, that riches holdeth vertue as mercena­rie.

Signiour Counte (aunswered the Greeke) and if the [Page 256]rich would but look into their own defects, as they conceiue the necessities of the vertuous, the contrary would happen: for then the rich would resort to the virtuous mens houses, neither would they euer from them depart: for another can not giue iudgement, in that he himselfe knoweth not: The wise and vertuous know what gold and siluer is, & to what vse their dispensation serueth. But of the rich questionlesse many not knowing, what sapience and vertue is, buried in the darkenes of their ignorance, they make thereof the like account, as did Aesopes Cocke of the pretious stone: but see­ing, in fauor of riches, you haue cited the example of a flat­terer, for so may Sophocles with that foolish woman be tear­med sufficient for my part in fauor of vertue, to recite vnto you the beginning of a Letter, which Antigonus the most mightie king of Asia wrote to Zeno Citico a most wise Phi­losopher: I, sayd he, as I exceede thee in fortune, and glo­rie, so in sapience, liberall studies, and perfect felicity, which thou possessest, I know my selfe far inferior vnto thee. The King knew himselfe by the Philosopher exceeded in per­fect felicitie, reputing riches & glorie for things most vain: King Antigonus knew wel what he had neede of, and ther­fore he drew neare vnto him, one that was wise: the which if many other rich men knew also, they woulde hunt after the vertuous, much more than they doe, neithes would they so swell, or be puffed vp with their riches wanting sapience: for they might conceiue, that the rich without vertue are no other, but sheepe that haue their fleece of gold, as the mag­nanimous king Alfonso of Aragon was wont to term thē: fur­ther alleadging, that rich men, like tapistrie hangings, ser­ued rather for ornaments, of halles and chambers, than for any other purpose: they being in effect, not much vnlike to paynted images; but in his affaires hee vsed those ver­tuous, who as they bee rare, so of necessitie, in Courtes they must needes bee the lesse in number. But peraduen­ture I haue saide too much.

Speake what you please, saide Count Alfonso Turcho, [Page 257]for my part, I make no doubt, but that riches is one of the greatest goods, that may befall a man in this life: yea, and I hold opinion, that the more riches increase, the more hu­mane felicitie is augmented: so that hee most rich, may bee saide to be also most happy. In this last part, Signior Conte (saide Tassone) you are deceiued, seeing felicitie rather con­sisteth in indifferent than excessiue riches. You hauing pro­ued (replied Tuncho) that riches is a good, I cannot see, but that riches increasing, good is thereby augmented, and conse quently felicitie.

Goodes (aunswered Tassone) as hath other wise beene affirmed, are of diuerse sortes, that is, of the body, mind and of fortune. And betweene the goodes of the minde, and those of Fortune, there is this notable difference, that excesse in the goodes of fortune, as are riches, either hurt, or help not him that possesseth them: but goodes of the minde, to the greater height they attaine, so much the more make they their possessor happy. And if Signior Ba­risano had tied himselfe to this conclusion, that not riches, but immeasurable riches, were rather impediment, than fur therance to liue well, and happily, I should haue beene con­formable to this opinion: For superfluous riches bring often times vpon him rich, those inconueniences, which hee hath recounted: and peraduenture in this respect, those seuere Philosophers blamed riches, therefore the Philosopher saith, that prosperitie of fortune, when it exceedeth, it is an impediment to felicitie, so that in such excesse, it can­not in reason bee termed prosperitie. And in another place, likewise he affirmeth, that indifferent possession of the goods of fortune, is woorthie to be counted best, the which easily obeyeth to reason, as doth excesse the contra­ry: And further he addeth in prayse of mediocritie, that all those indifferent rich, are apt to preserue themselues: in that they desire not other mens goods, as doe the poore, nei­ther are theirs by the poore desired, so much as the goodes of them rich: whereuppon they themselues neyther cir­cumuenting, [Page 258]others, nor by others layed in waite for, or cir­cumuenced, they liue without danger. In like manner Pho­cilides affirmed, that for the happie state of a Common­wealth; it was to bee wished, that Citizens should haue in­different, yet sufficient riches: minding to inferre, that so much riches sufficed, as wherewith veitue might with de­cencie be practised: and that those, who in riches, power, or friendes do superabound, are good Citizens, because they neither can, nor will support another mans dominion: that meane wealth is not onely sufficient of it selfe to felici­ty, but also to the happie state of a common-wealth: by this it may be comprehended, that the Lawgiuers were indiffe­rent rich: for Solon as wee reade in his verses, was indiffe­rent rich, & so was Lycurgus, Charondas, Faleus Carthaginian, Hyppodamus Milesian, and Finally, the greater part of all the others: so that it is euident, that moderate, and not imme­surable riches, are the furtherance to happie life. I shall re­maine satiffied, if to this you haue deliuered, you adde but some firm & sound reason, said count Alfonso. And Tassone. I commend your wit, seeing you relie not on bare authority, but behold the reason: It is a thing most certaine, that the instrument wherewith the artificer exerciseth his trade, ought to be proportionable, both to the same artificer and arte: for if it bee diminished, or too exceeding great, nei­ther to the artificer, not the worke it selfe, will it succeede well. Riches therefore, being the instrument, wherewith a vertuous man practiseth vertue, it is necessarie that after such a sort, they be vnto vertue proportionable, and the man vertuous, as neither through defect, nor excesse, ver­tuous actions (wherein felicitie consisteth) bee hindered: and in that moderate riches is betweene the defect and ex­cesse, this of necessitie must needes bee the sufficient and proportionable instrument: and excesse shal either be hurt­ful, or no whit at all furthering felicity. But moreouer, if from increase of riches felicity should take augmentation, considering riches may multiply infinitely, it wold also fol­low, that felicity, which is the ende of man, should bee infi­nite: [Page 259]whereupon man, not being able euer to attaine vnto it fully, of all other things created, he onely should faile of his proper end: I conclude therefore, that as without riches, there can bee no perfect felicitie, so the excesse of riches ei­ther hurteth, or helpeth not at all: and that mediocrity is an apt instrument vnto vertue, and an happie life. These rea­sons, are so well grounded, said Turcha, as that in them I re­maine fully satisfied. Out of doubt added Gualinguo, whoso­euer cannot practise vortue with moderate riches, will much lesse practise it with excesse: seeing superaboundance of ri­ches is farre more proportionable to vice, then vertue: And ordinarily in them most rich, those euil dispositions are dis­couered, which by the Philosopher are ripped vppe in his Rhetorick, seeing in that place he vnderstandeth it by them superaboundantly rich, and not by the other, rich with me­diocrity, considering that in them, insolence, pride, intempe­rance, & many other vices abound, wherof immeasurable ri­ches is the proper nourishment. I beleeue (sayd Count Her­cules Beuelacqua) that so it is: but yet further I desire to vn­derstand, whether hee is rich that possesseth, or he that vseth them, for of this I am doubtful, in that I see diuers, who not­withstanding they make thereof no vse, yet are they estee­med most rich. Vain is possession without vse (answered Tas­sone (as the diuine Philosopher affirmeth in Eutimedo) there­fore to be rich consisteth, not only in possession, but also, in vsing riches: & he that shuld say, more in vse then possessiō, might not peraduenture speak much amisse, in that he which maketh no vse of them, is in no other respect different from one poore, but that the poore man is poore through necessi­tie, and hee through will and election: and therefore ma­ny not knowing, that to bee rich, consisteth principallie in vsing of wealth, are deceiued: & not foreseeing thus much, by forbearing the vse of them, impouerash themselues. Nay, and I promise you, I am of opinion (sayde Counte Hercules,) that these sorte of men are much more misera­ble then the poore: for the poore desire Riches to sup­plie [Page 260]their wants, and these men hunt after them, to the end, that in aboundance, they might yet liue in want: neither can I imagine the cause and reason, of so great follie. Aua­rice (saide Tassone) springeth from a firme hope, of long life, and neuer thinking to die: for who is so foolish, that would spare to day, if he beleeued to die to morrow,? But a man promising vnto himselfe, long life, as if hee were to liue euer, storeth vp riches & mony infinitely, hoping that one day he shal reioyce in them, and in this vaine hope, fee­ding himselfe with aire, he liueth like a Camelion, and final­ly, in the middest of abundance, dyeth in want. How can it be, said count Scipio Sacrati, that to be in hope of long life, should make a man couetous, we seeing by experience, that auarice, is a particular vice to old men, who hourely expect death? Olde men (saide Tassone) do not expect, but feare death, as they that are much more desirous of life, then yong men, and therefore Marcus Tullius saide, that there was not any one so de crepite, which did not yet promise vnto him­selfe some yeares of life: but for another cause also old men are couetous, for bloud in them comming to refrigerate, & not being able to ioye any more in those contentmentes, wherein youth is commonly prodigall: as also hauing ma­ny times proued want in times past, fearing the like should happen to them againe, they addict themselues to the hea­ping vp of mony, reposing in it all their ioy, and content­ment. Hauing obserued (said the Count of Scandiano) these men, that greedie of riches, are called couetous, I finde them after such a manner intentiue, to the heaping vppe of mo­ny, as that it excepted, all other riches seemeth vnto them nothing worth, which maketh mee beleeue, that in the possession of mony confisteth true riches: seeing by the meanes of mony, wee may iuioy all other riches, yea and it appeareth, that they who are monied, be in a certaine ma­ner Tyrantes ouer others, as though all thinges shoulde obey vnto mony: And therefore Phillip the father of great Alexander was wont to saye, that there was not any for­tresse [Page 261]so great and well munified, but if an affe laden with golde might but aproach it, woulde bee expugnable. It cannot be denied, (saide Tassone) but that mony is very com­modious, and in a certaine maner, necessary, to liue well, being impossible, or at least wise very difficulte, to liue in common societie, without exchange, or permutation of thinges: considering that oftentimes one hath need of that, whereof another aboundeth, now in that there can be no iust permutation, but by meanes of mony (as the other day Ca­ualier Gualinguo declared) it being that which maketh all contracts iust & equal, in this respect mony is truly worthy to be esteemed, and placed in the number of riches: not­withstanding in it selfe considered, it is no true, nor sincere riches, as that which of it selfe, supplieth not the wants of nature, considering that one possessing it, may die for hun­ger, thirst, colde, or any other want, no lesse then hee that hath it not, which is confirmed by the fable of Mydas. And there vpon it proceedeth, that the riches of mony is of all o­ther insatiable, yea & the more the heap therof augmenteth, the more likewise increaseth desire, for mony serueth na­ture to no vse at all, as doth bread, wine, fruite, and al other riches, wherewith humane life, is sustained, and ordai­ned: the superfluitie of which things causeth lothsomnesse and sacietie.

Thinke you not (saide Signior Gualinguo) that mony of it selfe, without other helpe, deserueth to be esteemed, being compounded of so noble a matter as is gold or siluer? The which gold is so resplendant and beautifull, as therefore it was consecrated to the Sunne: as also that being most secure and temperate from all corruption, it was in like manner de­dicated to Iupiter: whereupon, no maruaile if any one behol­ding it, hee remaine surprised and taken. Although siluer and gold (answered Tassone) of alother mettals, be the fairest and most beautifull, yet are they least profitable: wherfore, hauing respect to that, which more benefiteth humane life, wee may make better account of iron, although of all other [Page 262]mettall it be the grossest: seeing of iron, and with iron, the instruments of all trades are made, and iron maketh men va­liant amiddest the most cruell wilde beasts: sinally, in the cittie, and within our owne houses, it maketh vs secure: which beeing knowne to wise Solon; he aduised Craesus to change his aboundance of golde (shewed vnto him by that foolish King, for ostentation) into iron, prognosticating, that if he presently did it not, his golde, kingdome, & selfe, would be a prey to Cyrus; who emptie of golde, but laden with yron, and full of valour, came to assault him. I con­clude therefore, that mony in it selfe, is of small or no assis­tance at all, to humane life; as that which by the Lawgiuers was inuented, to proue equalitie in bargaines, & contracts: for a mason could make no exchange with a shoomaker, see­ing the building of a house, is of farre greater value, then a paire of shooes, if mony were not, which ballanceth the contract: And therefore mony by the Graecians was called Numisma, as it were by the lawes ordained: for Nomos signi­sieth law, and the Latines for the selfesame cause, called it Nummus: and there is no doubt, but mony commeth to be e­steemed, through the opinion only of men, who as hither­to they haue esteemed thereof, if for a little while, they should but beginne to holde the same (as indeed it is) but base and vile, we should finde it, no question, but an vnpro­sitable waight and burden. That inuention of mony (saide Signior Patritio) serueth for no other vse, but for permuta­tion of thinges, it appeareth by another reason: for hauing respect only to domesticall societie, within the limites of an house, where permutation is not requisit; it is altogether vnprofitable. And how is permutation vnnecessarie, or at leastwife vnprofitable in a house (replied, Signior Her­cules Ʋarano?) Because betweene husband and wife (saide Patritio) betwixt father and children, seruants and maisters, and brothers, while they remaine together in one familte, that permutation is not requisite, wherevnto mony concur­reth for equalitie of bargaine and contract: and therefore [Page 263]mony, within the limites of an house is altogether vnprofita­ble, but only serueth abroad in ciuill company, & sometimes for contract, and exchange. Me thinkes (said Signior Scipion Gilioli, that general rule should haue an exception: seeing in the house betwixt master and seruant, there is permutation, and mony taketh place; the seruitor offering his labor and seruice, to his master, and the master due hire to such a ser­uant in exchange: obserue (sayd Patritio) that by a seruant I intend not these, which go about euery day, seruing some­time this man, otherwhiles that for hire: For these sorte of people, be rather similitudes, then true seruantes, as they that acknowledge not their master, for their head, neither feare by him to be punished, for the insolencies, they dayly commit in the house: wherfore they are altogether vnwor­thy to be placed in the number of those, which make a do­mesticall societie: being for the most part, vagabonds, and cooseners, directing their actions, rather to some other end, than to serue their maisters. But I meane that seruant, the vse of whom not onely, but euen of his goods and substance is in the maisters power, which by vs at this day is called a Slaue: for such an one is a true seruitor, and one of the prin­cipall instruments wherewith a master gouernes his house. This man, partely for feare of his maister, as also through hope of liberty (the reward of good seruice) serueth his ma­ster most saithfully: and betweene this seruant and his mai­ster, occurreth no permutation, wherein mony is requisite. Nowe I conceiue (saide Gilioli) that your rulehath no ex­ception, and that money is no riches, which passeth be­twixt them of one famille, although it be necessary for maintenance of the house, as Signior Conte hath very wel explaned, who in the argument of riches, hath giuē so good satisfaction, as peraduenture litle remaineth wherof we may doubt.

The which likewise, being by all the rest confirmed, the discourse ended, and his Highnesse with the thrise excellent Duchesse, euen now landed at the village of Cosandoli, the [Page 264]Queene rose vp, with al the rest of the companie, and lea­uing the Barge, they followed the Court, which went to a lodging, prepared in a most sumptuous pallace, not farre distant from the bankes of Poe, built sometimes with mag­nificent charge, by the anciēnt Princes of Este. Here, after cuerie one had taken a little repose in their particular par­titions, being euen now night, all went to the Chamber of the renowned Duchesse, where with musick and other plea­sing sports, they passed the time while supper: which en­ded, and the tables taken vp, they vsed diuers formes of dan­cing, but being very late, al departed to their rest, expecting the morning light. The morning following, his highnesse, the excellent Duchesse, and all the rest of the Court, ha­uing heard with deuotion, ordinary diuine seruice, they went roote by foote to the riuers side, where each one entred into their barge, except the Secretaries, Counsellors, and other Magistrates, who inuited by the Lady Countesse of Sala, the Lady Tarquinia, and by the most illustrous Lord Don Caesare, accommodated themselues in the Buccyntore, imagining discourse would fal out vpon some noble subiect and argument: and amongst these, was Signior Antonio Montecatini, of all Philosophers of our age, the most princi­pal, Signior Gainbattista Landerchi, the renowmed of the Lawes, Signior Benedetto Racualdi, Signior Achilli Fantini, Signior Gian Maria Crispo, and Signior Cati, men, not onely in the profession of the lawes most excellent, but in all other kindes of excellent and choyce studies, learned and iudiciall. There were in like maner placed vpon the side of the bark, diuers companies of Musitians (of which in his Court, there be many rate and excellent, to the end, that playing & sing­ging togither to sundrie instruments, they might with their melody no lesse delight the sence of hearing, then did the dames with their beuty, content the eyes & sence of seeing. But after that with pleasure they had made some reasonable way, dinner time beeing at hand, by the Queenes order, the tables were couered in the hall, and on the one side, the [Page 265]dames, & those roabed: oueragainst whom sate the Knights and men of order, the Queene her self being placed at the end of the table, in regal maiestie vnder a canopie. Dinner ended, which thrughout was accompanied with most melo­dious musicke, there was by prouident officers, as on the water the custome is, brought forth cardes, tables, & chesse boordes. But the Queene with a signe hauing imposed si­lence, spoke after this maner. As there be two cōditions of men esteemed worthy of true honor, one of those, learned, and the other of them, that make profession of Armes, so is there many times disputation, to whither of these preemi­nence is due: Considering therefore with my selfe, that in this noble assembly, of one side, here be the flower of the learned of our age, and on the other part, Knights, that in military profession are most excellent: taking holde of this good oportunitie, I determine that to day, for entertainmēt of our passage, by way of argument, it be discussed; which is most worthy of honor, the man learned, or the Souldier: and to the end, that in grapling together, there grow no con­fusion, I minde it shal be fought out by seuerall champions, which may be done, they learned choosing out one for their parte that may speake, as also the other, another: And be­cause no controuersie can bee determined without a iudge: I will, that both partes being hearde, they shal stand to the sentence, of Madam Countesse of Sala. This iudiciall order of the Queene, highly pleased the Lord Don Caesar, and all the rest of the Ladies: and they attended the Champions comming forth: for those learned, after a low muttering and consultation, they denounced Signior Patritio for Cham­pion: and of the Knights parte, the Lord Guilio Caesar Bran­eaccio, not onely amongst all the rest, the oldest Souldier, and in knowledge of Armes most excellent, but further, a gentleman, very learned, eloquent, and with all manner of vertue adorned. This electiō once made, the Queene brea­king silence, commaunded Patritio, that he should first en­ter into the field, who smiling: Although (most renouned [Page 266]Queene saide he) it is no small preiudice to the learned in this action to be assailants, but is as it were halfe a confirma­tion of precedence to armes: notwithstanding, seeing your Maiesty so commandeth, I will not refuse to bee the cha­lenger: yet with this condition, that in this conflict, there be no other armes vsed, then those wherewith the learned accustome to subdue their aduersaries: for if souldiers shuld but draw their swordes, out of doubt syllogisms, inductions, cuthememes, examples, and the learneds Champion him­selfe, would be ready to she the fielde. Then Signior Guilio Caesar smiling: Although election of armes belongeth vnto vs as defendants, yet to the end our victorie may bee more glorious, wee accept of combate with your owne armes: so now Signior Patritio, frame your tongue to this warlike as­sault; for as equitie and reason standeth on our side, so hope I by my valor, couragiously to sustaine it. Patritio therefore hauing a while pawsed with himselfe, begun in this sorte.

IT is a verie deepe and doubtfull question (most famous Queene) which you haue propounded to be disputed of this day, seeing that Armes and Letters are both of them so Noble professions, and so excellent, as that it is difficult to iudge, to whether of them the Palme is due: Considering by armes wee defende and amplifie kingdomes, and by Let­ters wee preserue and gouerne the same, so that the one of the other standeth in such neede, that neither this without the other, can be iustly extended, nor the other without the first, be securely maintained: Notwithstanding, seeing it so pleaseth your Highnesse, that the tediousnesse of our iour­ney, be passed ouer with some ingenious and pleasant dis­course, I wil contende to manifest, as a valorous Champion of the learned, that the ballance fitteth on our side: and in that the souldiour and scholler cannot sit both on the same stoole, the Souldiour must giue place to the scholler. Now to come to the knowledge of truth, which we seek after, I think it necessary, that to discoursing briefly, we first of any other thing intreat of those perfections, which of thēselues are sufficient to bring a man to his true ende, which is fe­licity, to the end, that seeing in what degree and perfection [Page 268]Letters stand, and in what art militarie we may draw out an infallible iudgement, to whome the first degree of ho­nour ought to be giuen, whether to the Souldior, or Scho­ler. I say therefore, that man for no other cause, of all other Creatures, is onely capable of felicitie, but in that beyond vegetatiue, and sensaliue faculties, hee is endued with vn­derstanding, by meane of which, working vertuously, he may come to cheefe good, and enioy highest delight. In this humane intellect, twoo most principall faculties are founde, the one of which is called by the Philosophers, vnderstanding speculatiue, whose obiect is trueth, the other, practike vnderstanding, which is conuersant about that good in humane opperations confisting. By all rea­sons these twoo faculties are placed in humane vnderstan­ding, considering that of all things which this vniuersall frame containeth, some bee the workes of the greatest god and Nature, other be humane opperations: In the works of God and Nature, truth is sought after, in humane oppera­tions, good. By meane of these two faculties, man acquireth two sorts of perfections: one of which is called Habite spe­culatiue, the other, Habite practike. Habite speculatiue is no other but a knowledge of all those things, that compre­hende the vniuersall frame, the which, as they are of three sorts, so be there three seuerall speculatiue habites: seeing that some are by their owne proper essence, seperate from sensible matter, as is the omnipotent and most excellent God, the Intelligences assisting the Celestiall Spheares, and those, which of the Metaphisicks themselues, are called Transcendentes, as Ens, good, truth, the thing, & such like, the knowledge whereof, is deseruedly called Wisedome: some again by their essence, are wholly drowned in sēsible matter, and with motion conioyned, and these bee the heauens, ele­ments, & bodies mixed: the knowledge of these things, is cal­led natural Philosophy. There be yet some other, which in effect can neuer be seperate from sensible matter: notwith­standing naturally they are such, as by part imaginatiue, and [Page 269]with the minde, they may be considered, or imagined: with­out consideration or imagination of matter, and this is ma­thematicall knowledge, diuided into Geometrie, which handleth continuall quantitie, that is, line, superficies, and body: and arithmetike, beeing conuersant about discreet quantitie, which is number: there bee further some specu­latiue habites comprehended vnder these three heades, by the Logitians termed, sciences subalternall, or halfe scien­ces: for in respect of the subiect, whereabout they are con­uersant, they participate of naturall knowledge, but consi­dering the manner, by which they proue their conclusions, they are mathematicall, as those, that embrace mathemati­call conclusions, for their beginning. Amongst these, is A­strologie, considering bodies, and motions celestial, the like also naturall knowledge doing, but in a diuerse manner: then prospectiue, which intreateth of visible line, Stere­metrie, being employed touching solide bodies; & musicke, respecting number harmonicall, with other such like: And these be al the sciences and habites, wherewith intellect spe­culatiue is adorned, in inuestigating, and finding out of truth. Practicke habite, is no other, but the knowledge of all those thinges, whereof man is the beginning: and they be diuided into two heades, actiue, and doing, part actiue, is a firme vnderstanding of those thinges, which appertaine to the good gouernment of himselfe, his house, and finally of the common weale. The doing or performing habite, is that knowledge, which is called arte: this being diuided in­to those mechanical, and liberall. But leauing apart mecha­nicall art, as impertinent to a ciuil man, we wil affirme, that amongst liberall artes, Grammer is numbred, Rhethorike, Dialect, Poesie, Musicke, both of voice & instrument, pain­ting, Architecture, and the art of Phisicke, and amiddest all these, we wil allot the principallest place to art Millitarie, as of al other the most excellent, which by the Philosopher was placed in the number of artes, it hauing belonging vn­to it, all those conditions, which in an art are required, that [Page 270]is, materiall subiect, end, and the instrument, which to the end conduceth, neither wanting there also firm beginnings and principles wherewith euery day, great souldiers serue their turne: materiall subiect is battel, victorie the end, and armes the instrument: These are all the perfections (most famous Queene) which may bring a man to his end, beeing felicitie: of which no doubt, those are the most excellent, and worthy of greatest honor, that more readily may make a man happy. If therefore I shall shew, that learning and habites speculatiue, haue greater parte in felicitie, than art Militarie, I beleeue the learned shall haue wonne the day. If that be true, which all the piudent affirme, that of things created, the same exceedeth all others in perfection, which draweth nearest to diuine bountie, and dooth of it most participate: Out of question the man learned, in boun­tie and dign [...]tie will be superiour to the souldier; in that hee learned, is endewed with that vertue, which maketh a man like to things diuine. For science and sapience which be incident to the learned, by meane of contemplation, make a man companion with God, vniteth him with chiefe good, and true felicitie: The Philosopher confirmeth the same in the tenth of his Ethickes, where hee sayeth, that those, who busie their mindes in contemplation, addict themselues to the studie of good letters, and are, than al others, by God better beloued; because they adorne that parte of the minde, which hath greatest similitude with things diuine: whereuppon God kindleth the light of his diuine grace in their soules, comforting them with high­est ioy, and true beatitude: As also otherwhere commen­ding Metaphy sicke, hee saith, that though it be not pro­fitable, yet notwithstanding it is worthy of supreme honor, as that which raiseth our vnderstanding from earth to hea­uen, exalting it to the knowledge of high & diuine things: and therefore he worthily affirmeth, that the wiseman go­nerneth the starres: as he that far remote from a vulgar life, being of himselfe sufficient, liueth most happy. M. Tullius in [Page 271]first of his Tusculanes sayth, that Philosophie is a gift giuen by God, and that in this world there can bee nothing more sweete or excellent: what thing is to be desired more ex­cellent or worthier of a man, then sapience: this by admi­nistring the knowledge of al things diume and humane, pro­cureth the mind to be setled and replenished, with cheefe ioy: if this be not a thing worthie of commendations, what is to be commended? And Architas Tarentine sayth, that wisedome, amongst al other things humane, is most excel­lent, and is as sight among the sences, vnderstanding in the same soule, and as the Sunne amongst the stars, sacred. Phi­lo sophie procureth not the felieitie of one particular alone, but further, assisteth the happie liuing of an whole Cittie, as diuine Plato affirmeth in his Meneseno, saying: to the Philosopher, and no other, appertaineth the gouernment of a Cittie: and in the fift of the Common-wealth: Those Cities cannot be happie, where Philosophers doo not go­uerne, and the gouernours sufficiently know Philosophie: but hee saide not, where art Militarie, and excellent warri­ours gouerne: For the arte of warre hath not onely no parte in felicitie, but rather is contrarie vnto it, conside­ring that it destroyeth humane generation, and is so much the more imperfecter then science, in that the ende of arte Militarie, may bee preuented by fortune, as often times it falleth out, which in science taketh no place: and it is most certaine, that where Fortune swayeth, vnderstanding little preuaileth, and where vnderstanding preuaileth not, there is a manifest signe of imperfection. Further I alleadge, that by howe much the minde is more excel­lent then the bodie, by so much are the actions thereof more excellent then those of the bodie, which beeing true, euen so must they learned needes be more excellent then Souldiours.

Considering the actions of the learned haue no need of a­ny corporall vertue, and those of Souldiours are most prin­cipally exercised with bodily force; the philosopher proueth [Page 272]that our mind is diuine, and immortall, in no other respect, but because it hath his operations distinct from the body: The learneds operations therefore, beeing from the bodie disioyned, they must needs haue in them something diuine, and be truly worthy to be placed amongest the things most honourable: the which notwithstanding by Souldiers can­not be affirmed: whose actions beeing wholly intermixed with the body, haue in them that imperfection which the body bringeth to the minde, and all matter to his proper forme. I could produce many other arguments, to shew, that Armes euer ought to yeelde to Learning (as good Marcus Tullius affirmeth) and grant the Laurel garland to the tong and eloquence of the learned, which notwithstanding for breuitie sake I passe ouer; And onely in our behalfe, I wil set downe some examples, for manifestation, that good let­ters are of force, to exalt men vp, euen vnto heauen, and to place them amongst the Gods. Lisanias a Noble man of Ar­cadia, as Leontius the Greeke declareth, beeing in Sciences most profound, went to Athens, and stirred vp such admi­ration in those people then rude and barbarous, as that they made him not their King, but worshipped him as a god, and hauing dedicated vnto him a Temple, was the first that was called Iupiter, Apis, the sonne of Toroneus and Niobe: he passing from Argos to Aegypt, by meane of the Sciences, he attained that reputation, as besides, being made king, he was helde and worshipped for a god: And so great was the reuerence towards him, as that by publike Edict there was a capitall punishment sette downe against whomsoeuer should be so hardy as to call him a mortall man. Belus, who as Paulus Orosius declareth, seigniorized in the vttermost confines of Aegypt, for being an Inuenter and teacher of ce­lestiall doctrine, was iudged so worthy, as vnto whome there should be built a Temple in Babylon, and it was cal­led, the Temple of Iupiter Belus. Hermes sonne to Phylo, a meane man of Arcadia and Proserpina his owne daughter, to auoyde the infamie of his incestuous originall going into [Page 273] Aegypt, and being in the sciences profound, but especially in Geometry, Arithmeticke & Astrology, was held for a God, being called the sonne of heauen, and day, as he that descen­ding from heauen, in the daye light came to bee noted and known. I (most illustrous lady) with these few & simple rea­sons, authorities, & examples, haue endeuoured to confirme our cause: which of it selfe is so firme, and secure, as there is no need of Rhetorical arte, for sustentation of it. I assure my selfe, Signior Brancaccio in his own conscience wel knowes, that he defendeth an vniust quarrell: although like an ho­norable Knight, hee entreth nowe the fielde, not to loose his honor. I can be wel content, Signior Patritio (said Brancaccio) that you may confirme the possession of honour: seeing that can not be lost, which hitherto is not possessed. It is now long since (aunswered Patritio) that reason stoode to the arbitrement of Armes, against whose violence learned men could make no resistance: but now brought to the tri­bunall of Iustice, I hope the matter wil otherwise succeed: and that at last the learned shall be established intheir pro­per place and dignitie.

Then the Queene: It is hie time you vse your armes, Sig­nior Brancaccio, for otherwise I perceiue you in very emi­nent danger. The affection which your Highnesse deser­uedly beareth towards souldiers, (sayde Brancaccio) is ra­ther an occasion of your feare, than any eminent daunger: for if that be true, which the other daye Signior Gualinguo shewed, that honour is the reward of vertuous actions, and signe of beneficence, the learned shall not onely, not haue precedence of the Souldier, but further in honor haue little or no interest at all: Considering honour to science impro­perly: and to Art Militarie it properly belongeth, in that from Arte Militarie those actions proceede, whereof honor is a reward, and from the learned there proceedeth no exte­rior action, wherby he may be iudged worthy of honor. But behold another reason, Signior Patritio, grounded vppon the words of your owne Philosopher, in the first of his Ethikes, [Page 274]where cōparing publike with priuat good, he said: that is to be beloued which is profitable to one alone, but much more diuine & excellent is that which benefiteth nations, and ci­ties; but this being trueth, beholde what a good Logitian I am: Arte Military is a perfection which doth not help one alone, but is a furtherance to Nations and Citties: whereas science profiteth none but the possessor of it: Therefore Arte Militarie is more excellent and honourable than Sci­ence.

That it is such an helpe and furtherance, it is a thing ve­ry manifest, in that by his Arte, Nations and Citties are defended from rauenous and insolent ennemies, libertie is preserued, and religion protected: this causeth obseruance of the Lawes, without which the Common wealth would be, as a body without a soule. Wherefore it was wisely set downe in the Proeme of Institutions, that imperiall Ma­iestie ought, not onely to bee garnished with Lawes, but also with Armes to be adorned. Considering that (as the Ciuilians doe affirme) right and equitie smally preuaile in a Cittie, and if the sworde procure not obseruaunce ther­of.

And Cicero in his Oration for Aulus Cluentius Albi­nus doth affirme, that warriours are the defenders and mi­nisters of Iustice: And the Philosopher referreth one of the principallest partes of a common wealth, to Soul­diours: As also Paulus Orosius writeth; the selfesame bee­ing by the Philosopher in his Politickes confirmed, that the first Common wealth amongst the Graecians ordained, consisted of none other than warriours. In like manner great Lycurgus knowing, that to a common wealth there was not a more excellent or more profitable thing than this most noble Arte, directed all his Lawes which hee gaue vnto the Spartaines, to the perfection and greate­nesse of the Arte Millitarie: through which Lawes, the Spartaines becomming most excellent warriors, they defen­ded & maintained, not only their owne libertie, but further, [Page 275]all Greece, from the innumerable armie of Xerxes: that vni­uetsall good is to be preferred, before the felicitie of one a­lone, and Arte Militarie before science: Marcus Tullius plainely sheweth in the first of his Offices, saying in this ma­ner: who is he so curious to vnderstand the nature of things, that a danger hanging ouer the head of his countrie, will not sodainely leaue contemplation, though he thought to measure the greatnes of the world, or number all the starres, and runne to succour? We may and ought therefore to con­clude, that art Militarie as an vniuersall good, ought to pre­cede science, being but good particular, and consequently Souldiours, the learned: but aboue all others, before them, which are called Philosophers, and wise men, who not con­tent with matters terreine, like the Giants, endeuour to ascende vppe into heauen, and make themselues equall with God, as also nourished in idlenesse, and knowing themselues vnapt to action: attaining to Magistracie, or ho­nours, swelling vppe themselues in pride, they retire from ciuil companie into a solitarie life: and after hauing beene mewed vp to theyr studies and Bookes, they become leane and macerate, and not able to determine in what man­ner the Sunne heateth, wholly confounded, they waste themselues in melancholie humours. But leauing them a­part, and comming to the excellencie of Arte Militarie, it is truely an heape of all those perfections, which make a man heroycal in an eminent degree: and beginning from the vertue of fortitude, this is most proper to Art Military, and is no lesse from it inseperable, then light from the Sunne.

By this vertue Horatius Cocles was woorthie of eternall praise, who alone vpon the bridge opposed himselfe to the power of al Tuskane, for the safety of his countrey. And no lesse worthie of honour was Leonidas Spartane, who fighting for his country, yea, & for the libertie of al the Greeks, with three hundred valiant souldiers, sustained at Thyrmopylis, for [Page 276]the space of three daies, the force of Xerxes armie. Tempe­rance, as the preseruer of prudence, is necessary to the perfe­ction of this arte: In that he can hardly subdue his enemie, which hath not first an habite in conquering himselfe: The act of temperaunce towards the faire women of Daryus, was no lesse glory vnto Alexander, then were the two victories obtained, by valor, and fortitude: by this vertue, Scipio Affricane, brought principall glorie to himselfe, and be­nefite to his country, who in Spaine, beeing a young man of foure and twenty yeeres of age, and without a wife, re­stored vnto her husband, a most beautifull and noble yong woman, returning vnto him for her dowrie, the money of her raunsome: and by this most vertuous action hee tamed the sierce courage of the Celtyberians, which peraduenture by fortitude he had neuer subdued. Finally, the Romans, as we reade, triumphed ouer the whole world, no lesse by being temperate, than valiant. The vertue of liberality is al­together necessary, in warrelike Arte: for by this the gene­rous Captaine, alluring the mindes of his souldiours, ma­keth them prone to battel, and obtaining of victory. By this vertue, great Alexander, drew the Macedonian Phalanx into the vttermost parts of the East, throgh whose valor he tri­umphed ouer Asia. By this Iulius Caesar subdued, not only the barbarous nations, but also drew vnto himselfe the minds of his own souldiers, to spoile themselues and their own coun­try of liberty, to make him lord and monarch: and certainly liberty may be said to haue bin only proper to Caesar: magni­ficence also is no smal ornament to this our Arte, seeing the magnificent captaine, by this, not onely with his owne men, but also amongst strangers, acquireth reputation & glorie. Octauian euer coueting to exceed Mark Antony in those spe­ctacles, the one and other presented to the people, as in all actions of magnificence, so in battels was he euer against the selfe same man victorious: and Alcibiades rather by this, than any other vertue, obtained honours in his owne countrey, and abroad: magnanimitie is no lesse an adiunct of milita­ry [Page 277]profession, then is whitnes of snowe: for that warrior who hath not a loftie and magnanimous minde, shall neuer accomplish glorious enterprises: Caesar was of so great a minde, as passing by a little obscure village, hee saide vnto a souldier that discommended the place; vnderstand thou, O friend, that I would rather choose to be cheefe in this place, then second in Rome: and Alexander for this vertue, surna­med the great, was of so haughtie a minde, as hauing vnder­stood by some, that there were diuers worlds, sighing, great­ly lamented, that being now seauen and twentie yeares of age, he had not yet conquered nor gotten one. As vaine­glory and ambition, obscure the actions of this ar [...]e, so doth the vertue of modestie, cause it to bee wonderfull resplen­dant: the good African acquired no lesse glory in refusing with modestie, the superfluous honors offered vnto him, by the Senate, and people of Rome, then he did in vanquishing and subduing the proud forces of the Carthaginians: As on the contrary, Alexander obscured his famous acts, by the vice of ambitiō, he accepting, by sycophāts to be called the sonne of Inpiter Hammon, and finally, with all those honors, to bee honored, which rather agreed with the supernall gods, then any mortall man. Clemencie also moderatrix of anger, is in a manner necessarie to the managing of this arte, in that an­ger is an obfuscation to the vertues of the minde, and impai­reth bodyly force, and vigor: wherefore an angry Captain forgetting his arte, and stratageme, easily becommeth a prey to his enemie: Caesar, as he was, and euer shall bee the warrior of the world without peere, so of al others was hee most curteous and gentle; neither can wee finde, that bee fought at any time with his enemie being in furie: and by being much more ready to pardon, then reuenge, he remai­ned finally betrayed, and slaine. Whereas on the contrary, Alexander by the vice of anger, obscured his great victories, for in fury he deliuered Lysimachus to the Lion, pearced the breast of Clito with a launce, and put Calistheues to death. Affabilitie, and curtesie, though to the seueritie of this art, [Page 278]they sceme litle befitting and conuenient: yet are they pro­fitable, as the thinges that procure a Captain to be accep­table, and beloued of his souldiers, by this vertue Scipio A­frican obtained great honor, and profit: for he was so affa­ble and domesticall amongst his souldiers, that although he had an exceeding great armie, yet saluted hee them all by their names. As vertue cannot be practised without iustice, so also without iustice cannot arte militarie consist: by this the valorous Captaine procureth himselfe to be beloued for hope of iust reward, as also to be feared through expectati­on of deserued punishment: And not onley moral vertues, but some liberall artes also seeme necessary to the perfecti­on of this arte: and amongst others Rhethoricke produceth most admirable effects, which the lesser Scipio manifested in Spaine, who finding his armie very licentious, & corrupted altogether with depraued customes, by a most eloquent o­ration, without any other meanes, reduced them to the Ro­maine discipline: and Iulius Caesar by this arte of speaking, confirmed his Souldiers mindes in France, astonished with the hugenes of the duch mens bodies, and therefore he ob­tained a most glorious victorie against proud Ariouistus: Fi­nally the ancient Captaines so esteemed, as also those of these daies, holde the force of cloquence to bee so great in arte militarie, that seldome or neuer, they enter into battail; but first they confirme the mindes of the Souldiers, by a Martiall Oration, enflaming them vnto battaile. And being of most notable importance, and a singular precept of arte militarie, to preserue an armie healthfull, I will also affirme, that to haue knowledge in some thinges, which appertaine to the arte of Phisicke, cannot but be a speciall assistance: for it shall wonderfully import a skilful Captaine, to vnder­stād the quality of the aire, the goodnes of waters, & wines, the properties of meates: as well in choosing out situation for his encamping, as for the nourishment of his armie: & we may read, that Romane Captaines contended no lesse in this, then in other martiall practises. Architecture further [Page 279]is necessary to this arte, especially that parte, which apper­taineth to fortification, for wanting this knowledge, a cap­taine can neither defend, offend, nor expugne a citie. In this point Iulius Caesar was so excellent, as that of himselfe he brought admiration to the world, through the towers, brid­ges, fortresses, and engines, whereof euen yet to this daye, there appere diuers monumentes, and representations. In my opinion (most illustrous lady) I haue manifestly enough declared, that this our noble arte, is a consent, & harmony, of al the worthiest perfections, and an heape of all the ver­tues: being an arte truly worthy of those men, who for par­ticipating of deuinitie, and mortalitie, are termed Heroes: wherefore no meruaile though Curtius, most valiant of any other Romane Knight, was by the Oracle of Apollo, appro­ued worthy to fill vp that huge gulffe, in the market place of Rome, as the most excellent and pretious thing which in that citie could be found, neither can it bee alleadged, but that there were also at the same instāt in Rome, men in lear­ning most excellent, Pythagoras, & Numa hauing there plā ­ted their golden philosophie. I could further by infinit ex­amples make demonstration, that militarie arte, is of all o­ther perfections, aptest to exalte a man, euen to the highest degree of glory, but all volumes and writings being heere­with replenished, I refer my selfe ouer to that which the historiographers affirme. Notwithstanding to open the eies of the learned, I will affirme, that amongst the ancientes, armes were euer in greater estimation, then letters, which may be conceiued by the statues, & images, framed of their cheefest gods, and painted, not with books, or scroules of pa­per in their hand, but with instruments of warlike arte, they minding to manifest, that without armes, there could bee no perfect deitie: they gaue therefore vnto Ioue lightning, to Neptune and Pluto, a tridental mace, to Saturne, a sickle, or sithe, to Apolle, a bowe, arrowes, and a darte, to Hercules, a clubbe, to Pallas a shielde, a lance, and helmet, to Di­ana, a bowe, shafttes, and a darte, vnto Cupide a bowe, [Page 280]and fatall arrowes. And further, the ancients esteemed this art of so great excellence, as that it could not continue with­out the protection of some particular deity. And therefore they esteemed Mars and Bellona, gods of war, adorning their Statues with warlike instruments, which instruments, they also thought worthy to be made by diuine hand and work­manship, and therfore they beleeued Vuicane to be the Gods armourer, which Plutarch sheweth, saying,

Finally, the holy scripture calleth the great God, the god of Armies, & not of the learned: so that Signior Patritio, you may yeeld your selfe vanquished, and not put your soule to compromise, for you well know, that you defend an vniust cause. Patritio laughed, & said: You Signior Brancaccio shew your selfe ingrate, yea, and trecherous towards the learned, seeing the Armes, and art of speaking, from the learned ob­tained, you vse against themselues. And I am out of al doubt, that if you were not as great a scholler, as a souldiour, you could neuer in this conflict, haue shewed your selfe so aduen­turous a Champion: and yet for al this, the victorie shal not remaine on your side, though you haue lightly wounded mee, for with more mortall blowes I haue pierced you. I vnderstande you (sayde Brancaccio) you would inferre, that your arguments remaine yet firme and vnshaken, where­vnto I haue not yet made any answer: and by commending Armes, that I haue not a iotte obscured the glory of Let­ters: Therefore from that I haue alleadged, it may be gathe­red, that your first foundation goeth to ground: for honour is not a reward of perfection, which procureth the felicitie of him alone that possesseth it, but is a reward of benefi­cence, that helpeth others: and that it may appeare, howe your reasons conclude not against Souldiours, I will sette downe the difference, which your Philosopher maketh betweene prayse and honour, touched the other day by Ca­ualier Gualinguo. Prayse (saith hee) is that speech, which no­teth [Page 281]singularitie of vertue, and is proper to habite, whereup­pon wee vsually commend Praxiteles and Phydias for the habite of sculpture which they had in excellencie: but ho­nour agreeth not properly to habites, but vertuous oppera­tions, For it is the true reward of excellent action, in that if one had vertue, and should bee idle, hee might rather bee praysed, then honoured. Nowe vertuous opperations beeing in two kindes, some internall, as to contemplate, and others externall, as to practise armes: it is a thing manifest, that honour cannot belong to internall opperation, for in­ternall action, being knowne to none but to him onely that worketh, it cannot stirre vp any to honor it: It must needs therefore bee the reward of externall action, which beeing manifest, not only to the worker, but also to others, moueth, and vrgeth the honourer, who knoweth it, to giue honour thereunto: And therefore the Philosopher saith well, that honour rather consisteth in him honouring, then in him honoured, minding to make knowne, that to attaine to ho­nourable action, it is necessarie that the action bee knowne for vertuous by the honourer. The actions therefore of men learned, Signior Patritio, as your selfe haue concluded, being actions intrinsecall, and only of the minde, as by you learned only they are known and vnderstood, so you by your selues may inwardly honor them, but these not manifest to others, you shall rather bee worthie of praise then honour: And on the cōtrarie, the opperations of vs Martialists, grounding their internal beginning in the mind, and discouering them­selues to the eyes and eares of others by meane of valor and vertue of our bodies, as well of prayse, as likewise of highest honour, wee are thought worthie: neither can fortune bee an impediment of our glorie, although sometimes shee hin­der victorie: For art Militarie, as diuers others also, hauing two endes, the proper ende thereof is victorie. And there­fore Haniball obscured not a whit his warlike honor, by the last battaile hee lost in Affricke, hee (according to Scipioes iudgement) not hauing failed to performe all that, which be­longed [Page 282]to a most expert warriour for the obtaining of vic­tory: neyther vnto you Signior Patritio, will it be any ble­mish, to haue beene subdued by me this day in combate: for though you haue not perswaded, yet notwithstanding haue you spoken in all excellencie touching perswasion. Signior Patritio further alleaged, that arte Military had no parte in felicitie, and much lesse in honor, seeing it is a consumer of humane kinde: and in this hee is deceiued, hauing beene by vs declared, that it is a good which vniuersally assisteth nations, and citties, by procuring vnto them obseruation of lawes, and defending them from ennemies: and therefore Marcus Tullius saith well: that of necessitie warre must bee made, to liue in peace. Your Philosopher also commendeth the making of war, vndertaking it for defence of our coun­trie, & to procure safetie to them, with whom we haue war. This is conformable also to the holy scripture, where wee reade that God permitteth, yea and commanndeth war, say­ing to the Hebrew people, Arme you, and confound these Philistines, enemies to the people of God: and in Ieremy al­so we may obserue, that God said, Prepare your shields and helmets, put on your breastplates, ride your horses, and take vp your lances against your enemies, gathering your selues all together to bartaile, and accursed be he who shal not shed bloud against the enemies of the people of Israel. And in the Machabees we reade, that God euer moued and stirred vp the people to battaile against the enimies of Israel: And therefore Dauid in the Psalmes writeth, Blessed bee the Lord, who instructeth our handes to battaile. And in all the Bookes of the Kings, wee finde, that God commaun­ded battaile for the chasticement of rebelles, ouerthrowing of tyrantes, and for the occasion of peace in the worlde. Wherefore it would be both a lawful and commodious war, if christian princes did arme their people against the cruell sword of the East, and enemies of the elect and chosen peo­ple, endeuoring to abate the pride of so outragious a tirant, and by force of armes to reduce those nations to better life, [Page 283]& worship diuine, then as they now liue with all sauage cu­stomes. And although it cannot be done without effusion of humane bloud, and some acte of iniustice, notwithstan­ding, of it no reckoning were to bee made, seeing without fire and sword, such a Phisition could not heale the like impostume. And not to passe ouer any thing whereof our aduersarie boasteth, I say, that Lysanias, Belus, Her­mes, Apis, and other such, were deified, not so much for the knowledge wherwith they were adorned, as throgh the action of beneficence. For as these opperations may by euerie one bee comprehended and conceiued, so inter­nall actions, especially to luskish and stupide people, being concealed and hidden, they cannot bee honoured. And this is a thing so manifest, as it booteth not herein to make any other or further replication. Signior Brancaccio ha­uing thus argued, it seemed to the Queene and all the stan­ders by, that the victorie remained on the Knights parte: when Signior Renato Cati standing vp on his feete: Bee it lawful for mee (sayd he) most famous Queene, to defend our cause, seeing Signior Patritio (rather a partialist, then faith­full Champion of al the learned, contemning the preualent armes of Ciuilians, hath onely drawne out against him the weak tempred sword of contemplatiue Philosophie, & yet hee infallibly knoweth, that these sort of learned, though worthie of praise and commendations, yet neuerthelesse are they poore, naked, and contemptible. This indeede we see euerie day (saide Patritio) for no other cause, but because the foolish multitude is intentiue on base gaine, and discerneth not the vertue and demerite of honour. It is pro­per to the Ciuilians, (thrise excellent Queene (said Brancac­cio smiling) to confound the lawes, wherefore no maruaile though Signior Cati, a most famous Ciuilian, hath broken the Law of combate by Champion, & sodainly as a warriour fresh in breath, commeth to assaile, iudging that I am al­readie wearie, and sore wounded: but he is deceiued, for I wante neyther voyce, tongue, nor woordes, to aunswere, [Page 284]not onely two, foure, or sixe, but euen to the whole rowte [...] and troupe of learned, and if they haue any thing to say to me.

It is proper to Ciuilians (said Cati) to reforme the lawes, reducing extreame seueritie to termes of equitie, for vtter­most rigor and seueritie, is no other but extreame iniurie: and it might worthily be thought an iniury, if wee without audience or any attention, should loose our action for an o­ther mans defect: Be it therefore lawfull for mee to defend the right and prerogatiue of Ciuilians, and to giue the at­tendant to vnderstand, that by great oddes wee ought to haue precedence of Souldiers. And because Signiour Bran­caccio groundeth his intention vpon the definition of Ho­nour, which is the reward of beneficence, not swaruing one iote from it, but to ouerthrowe this argument with his owne armes, I meane thus to argue: whether is of greater moment to humane kinde, Armes, or Letters: It is mani­fest, that Lawes by the great God were produced together with the world: an infallible Law mooueth and gouerneth the heauens: And firme and iust lawe, tempereth the vio­lent contradiction of elementes, seeing whatsoeuer in one parte, the one vsurpeth of an other, in some other respect at the same instant it restoreth and recompenceth: To the inuiolable lawe of Nature, plants giue place, and creatures obey. Finally, lawes descended from Heauen, rule this inhumane globe. Armes not from heauen (although the Poets fabling, and Painters faining adorne therewith the I­mages of the gods) but from the profound centre of the deeps, by some most malignant spirit brought to light, so far off are they from helping and benefiting the world, that ra­ther they waste and teare the Image of God, consume the workes of nature, and ouerthrow humane inuentions. He that should take armes out of the worlde, so shoulde hee re­mooue iniuries and oppressions. For not remaining anie one, who by force would vsurpe vpon another, all things, by the whole some administration of lawes should be gouerned [Page 285]in peace: And therefore good Agesilaus was woont to say, that if all were iust, there would be no neede of Armes, nor of valour.

Hee that shoulde remooue Lawes out of the worlde, not onely citties woulde remaine as a body without a soule, but al things being left to arbitrement, of violent armes, and being none who might prescribe iust and vpright warres, with the maner how with iustice to put them in execution, euery thing would goe hand ouer head, and iniuries should neuer haue end, and this would be nothing else but to re­moue out of the worlde that felicitie which mortall men in this life may enioy. Here peraduenture Signior Guilio Cae­sare will alledge, that without armes, the world should want a great ornament: and that armes (as experience teacheth) are much more apt to make men great and glorious, than a­ny kinde of learning: as also, that statues, crownes, triumphs, and all supreame honours, are appropriate to vanquishing warriors, and not to Ciuilians or Lawyers, and hee will fur­ther vrge, confirming the same before he spoke, that armes iustly vndertaken, are no other but good. But I against all this will auerre, that armes are greater trouble, than orna­ment to the world, they being the beginning of vsurping o­ther mens goods, and bringing free cities into into llerable seruitude, forcing many times wise men, to obey the follie of flagitious and cruell tyrants: I affirme that vniustly, and through abuse, they erect statues, giue crownes, and tri­umphs to conquering Souldiers: For what greater abuse or thing more inhumane can there be, than to seek greatnes and glory, from slaughters, deuastations, incests, sacrileges, rapines: and finally, to triumph in humane miseries? I say further, that there can no iust warre be extended, but that which in defence of our countrey is made: and all other warre, (with the Philosophers leaue bee it spoken) is con­trarie to lawes of Nature: which, as it permitteth that o­thers may defende themselues, and recouer their owne, so suffereth it not, that for desire of raigning, one shoulde v­surpe [Page 286]that wherof another is lawfully possessor: nature not minding, that one should performe to another, what hee would not haue done to himselfe: but further supposing, that one might moue warre against another, how great be the iniquities, that insue of that iniustice? the innocent peo­ple, whom it concerneth not to examine, whither the war bee iust, or vniust, who are inforced to obay their Princes, vnder paine of disloyaltie, and rebellion, and the greater part of them hauing neuer taken sword, or weapon in hand against enemies, are taken prisoners, hewen in peeces, slain, there houses robbed, wiues violated, and finally, Townes, Castles, and Cities put to fire and sworde, so that what na­ture, arte, and humane wisdome, in many yeares haue com­passed, by force of armes, in very short space conmeth to be defaced. Signior Giulio Caesar affirmeth, that vertue little preuaileth in a citie, if there be not those, that may procure the obseruance thereof: and that vaine is councell in the Senate, if there be none to put it in execution: as also that armed Knights, be the ministers of iustice: and in all this, as he saith well, so vnawares, he secretly confirmeth pre­cedence of honor, to the Ciuilians, if peraduenture hee doe not minde to holde a paradox: that they who execute, are more worthy of honor, then those that commaund. Wise Ciuillians, first iudge, whether the warre bee iust, or vniust, neither moueth the Captaine, or the armie without his de­cree, and commission, commaund him: and therefore the diuine Philosopher sairh, that the science, which debateth of warre, should sway and rule ouer the other, which exe­cutes it, minding to inferre, that the Ciuillians should, not onely haue precedence, but furder, euen command souldi­ers: And the Philosopher himselfe was of the same opi­nion, subiecting arte militarie, to imperiall arte, and ci­uill science. Our aduersarie seeketh to preuaile by an opi­nion confirmed of the Philosopher, that the vniuersall must bee preferred before the particular: which beeing true, armes out of doubt, will giue place to the lawes; for [Page 287]the lawes without any detriment, bring vniuersall bene­fit to the whole worlde. and armes, though they helpe, so is it but onely one people, and one Prince alone, whom they further: and yet cannot they effect this, without pre­iudicing of many. I would faine finde out a Prince, who by his souldiers helpe, had euer performed such a benefit to the worlde, as did the Emperour Iustinian by the Law­yers assistance, in ordaining of lawes: this question esse, was an vniuersall benefit, whereof the whole world might haue vse, through infinite ages: but if honour bee measured from beneficence, so much more worthy of honor was Iusti­nian then Caesar, by howe much hee without detriment, did good vnto all: And Caesar by winning foure and fiftie bat­tailes, benefiting only the people of Rome, and rather his ownr selfe, caused the death of many hundred thousandes of menne, and defaced an infinite number of Citties and Castles. Signior Brancaccio further in fauour of Souldi­ers alleadgeth, the authoritie of Lycurgus the diuine Phi­loso pher who placeth warriors amonst the principallest members in his common wealth. Touching Lycurgus, I referre my selfe ouer to that which the Philosopher affir­meth in his Politickes, seeing hee by most effectuall rea­sons sheweth that the lawes of Lycurgus, & comonwealth of the Spartanes, is in the number, of dishonest, & euill ordai­ned cōmonwealths: As for Plato, he in his second, and fourth bookes of his commonwealth, setting downe the duetie of Souldiers, speaketh thus: Wee haue placed in the Cit­tie, Souldiers as dogges, who to the principall Cittizens are to obay, as to Pastors of citties: and there is no doubt, but by principall Cittizens, those are intended, who admi­nister equitie, and iustice, as the Lawyers doo, and to noble and geneious dogges, this diuine Writer resembleth the souldiers, saying, that like good dogges, they should be vigi­lant to obserue the enemies, ready to prosecute and follow them, and hauing ouertaken, valiant to set vppon them. Out of this place of Plato, may be gathered conformable to my [Page 288]opinion, that all other warre is vniust, but that which in de­fence of our countrie is vndertaken: seeing hee ordaineth souldiers for no other end, but to garde the citie, and he that of them maketh other imployment, abuseth them: and our mortall enemy Cato, animating vnto the vertue of fortirude, saith: fight in defence of thy countrie: and not to acquire another mans dominion and empire. As therefore it cannot be denied (most famous Lady) but that armes are for be­halfe of the lawes, and vnto them subiect, so must wee con­clude, that souldiers are farre inferior to professors of the lawes, considering that in a cittie, the one be as pleaders, & Rhethoritians, the other as porters, and guardians: and this vnto me seemeth so manifest a thing, as that it cannot bee contradicted. But because I perceiue by the gestures & mo­tions of his person, that our obstinate aduersary, long since, impatient of attention, is most defirous to speake, I will here pawse, assuring my selfe, that he, considering he wan­teth neither voice, tong, nor wordes, wil neuer giue place to manifest reason: but confident in his eloquence, he will at­tempt to retort, the vpright and sincere iudgement, of our most gratious Queene. Eloquence preuaileth greatly in law­yers (saide Brancaccio) and so far, that many times it hazar­deth the good conscience of a sincere & equal Iudge: wher­of I doubting, to the end that the entire & impartial indge­ment, of our illustrous moderatrix, may remaine vnspotted, and immaculate; I will make it knowne, that Signior Cati, hath done like that incircumspect Greek, who to terrifie the Troians, putting off his own, armed himself with the armes of fearce Achilles. Notwithstanding, before I laye open his sophistications, it is necessary, that somewhat more amply difcoursing, of that which to a warrior appertaineth, I play the Philosopher searcheth out the secrets of Nature, and infallible prouidence of God: it cannot be denied most fa­mous Lady, but that Nature is vnto man a scepmother, and to the other creatures a most kinde and tender mother, for she hath not onely made them strong of body, but with na­turall [Page 289]garments so couered, and naturall armes so fortified them, wherewith most fierce, they proudely go forward, without fearing offence: and such creatures as shee hath produced them, weake and vnarmed, so hath shee prouided them swift feete, or light feathers and wings, to the ende, that flying or running away, they might withdraw them­selues from danger. Man should haue been naked, vnarmed, and of al other creatures weakest, and exposed to all kinde of iniurie, if by fingular grace of the heauens there had not beene granted vnto him, the excellent gift of the minde, and light of reason: the which, what Nature hath denied him, it doth doubly suppeditate. This at one instant ador­ned him with armes, and armed him with lawes, to the ende, that by armes, hee might securely walke amongst the most cruell beasts, and by lawes leade a perfect & ciuill life. It is therefore to affirme, that lawes descend from heauen: and armes were drawnefrom the deepe, for both the one and the other were woorkes of reason and equitie; and con­sequently, were both celestiall inuentions. And as it is true, that laws without armes cannot consist, so is that false which the aduersarie affirmeth, that to take armes out of the world, were a bringing in of that felicitie, which most of all in this mortal life is desired: for without armes, the lawes would not onely bee vaine and friuolous, but a man, botne to rule ouer Creatures, beeing weake and vnarmed, shoulde bee a prey to more terrible beastes; neither should they a­gainst them haue any greater defence, then haue the little Pigmeans against the Cranes. But admit wee grant with­out preiudice to truth, that Lawes are more noble then Armes, yet for all this cannot Signior Cati conclude, that the Ciuilians Doctrine is of greater esteeme then Arte Millitarie, nor that Generals of Armies are to giue place to Doctours of the Lawes. For if such a prerogatiue should bee graunted, it must not concurre with the Ciuilians or Lawyers, but with the Law giuers, considering that those who establish Lawes, be great Princes, or commonwealths [Page 290]most prudent men, or for some heroycall vertue most ex­cellent as were Draco and Solon, who gaue Lawes to the A­thenians, and Lycurgus the Lacedemonians Lawgiuer, Nu­ma Pompylius that prescribed lawes to the Romaines. Faleus to the Carthaginians, Mercurius Tresmygistus to the Egypti­ans, Zoroastres to the Persians, and Bactrians, Minos to the Cretans, Charondas to those of Tyre, Zalmosi to the Tarta­rians, Hippodamus to the Milesians, Plato to the Cicilians, and other such like: But to dilate alittle touching that doctrine, whereof the Ciuilians do so insult, as Signior Patritio num­bring vp the Sciences, and Artes liberall, hath not placed it in his Catalogue, so thinke I it a thing very difficult, to find any place for it amongst habites speculatiue & actiue. Among the Sciences it cannot be recounted. For Science beeing nothing else, but to vnderstand the thing by his proper and infallible cause.

The Ciuilian demaunded of that he knoweth, can al­leadge no other cause, but that the Lawes say so, or Doctors thus affirme: It cannot also properly be termed an Art, ex­cept after the same manner as Petrarch calleth it, that is, an Arte of selling words and lies: For though she be conuer­sant about the Lawes, as the proper argument of her doc­trine, yet can she not alter nor transforme them into diuers formes, as other Artes doe their matter and subiect: For Lawes by the Ciuilians cannot be transinuted, but by great Princes and Lawgiuers: which the Lawyers obseruing, and not knowing with what other title to honour this their sci­ence, haue tearmed it knowledge of equitie, or iuris pru­dentia, which signifieth no other, but that wise dome which is conuersant in administring equitie and iustice, according as the Lawes commaund. Nay but I will further affirme, that this their facultie cannot likewise be aumbred amongst the morall vertues: For the Philosopher discussing of that particular vertue called Iustice, saieth, that it is conuersant about iustice distributrue and commutatiue, that is, in pla­cing rewarde and punishments, and reducing contractes [Page 291]and permutations to equallitie. And this vertue beeing well considered in her foundation, is not proper to Law­yers, but vnto Law-giuers: For the Lawyer or Cruilian is about three things conuersant: To interprete the written lawes, To aunsweare according to Lawe, And to iudge aunswerable to the Lawes, or according vnto those cu­stomes, which by inueteration are of like force and vigour as the Lawes. Out of this wee may drawe a conclusion con­formable to the Philosopher, that the written Lawe, is a silent Lawe: And the Lawyer is no other, but the liuely or speaking Law: and so consequently, that the vertue of Iu­stice dependeth not on him, but on the Lawgiuer and Law.

The Philosopher affirmeth, that there be three condi­tions or qualities of men: some distrusting authoritie, yeeld onely to reason: Others not Very capable of reason, easi­ly rest satisfied in authoritie: And a third sort, who inca­pable of reason, do likewise contemne the authoritie of the wise; and as these last, of all other be the worst, and the se­cond giue proof but of a dul conceit, so the first note a most eminent and pregnant wit, and such are the Philosophers speculatiue, who seeke after trueth, and not authoritie. And the Captains in war be those, who despising other mens au­thoritie, are gouerned only by reasō; among the second sort, lawyers are recounted, whose doctrine is wholy grounded vpon authoritie, & therfore they were wont to say, that one is not worthy to be heard, that speaketh without authority; and out of this a maxime may be gathered, that Lawyers of themselues know nothing, but that their knowledge de­pendeth vppon other mens opinions, so that many times when they woulde answere, or determine, wythout ha­uing any eye to the force of reason, where there is no writ­ten Lawe, they fall a reciting their opinions, who haue scribled a number of Booke cases, and for the most part, tie themselues thereunto, as to a most certaine and infallible rule. And the confusion of these Doctourshippes is so great, who haue written rather for gayne and often­tation, [Page 292]then through any zeale of iustice, as that often a­mongst themselues, they pleade not what is most reasona­ble and iust, but what is most vsuall and common: a thing surely worthy of diuision, and also compassion, as though the opinion of ten ignorant were more to be esteemed, then the sentēce of foure wise mē: whether these sort of learned (most renowmed Lady) shoulde precede warriours, who with notified valour adorne their countries, with a thou­sand Troupes, administer argument to writets, to immorta­lize themselues, and consecrate vnto memorie martiall pro­ceedings, and magnanimous attempts, it is easie to iudge. By that which hath beene spoken, it is clearely manifest, that Signior Cati setteth foorth lawes with the person of the Lawgiuers, vnto whome they bring princes and men heroy­call, it shall not bee greatly inconuenient, that armed men giue place, seeing these determine and command the wars, as also determine the place of Generals in an armie, and not Ciuilians, as hee constantly affirmeth, except per­aduenture hee meane, that it is all one to commaunde ouer Souldiours, as ouer executions, or the minister of iustice, this being a proper office of ciuilians. This truth may be con­ceiued by the description the philosopher maketh of his ex­cellent & wel ordained commonwealth, wherin he diuideth the Citizens into foure orders, that is, Warriours, Senators, iudges, & priestes, and describing their offices, he calleth not the souldiers by this brutish terrne of dogs, but maintainers, defenders, and ministers of iust warres: and to the Senator, hee allotieth administration and gouernment of things pub­like: And these men it concerneth to determine of warre or peace, & to these souldiours giue place, for in such a degree they are to be reputed as Lords & princes. And to Iudges, who are no other then ciuilians or lawyers, belongeth the office of determining and deciding controuersie. The priests who are the ancientest, reduced as it wer to their last & most perfect end, he assigneth the care of things holy. And wee must obserue, that althogh to frame a city of it self sufficient, [Page 293]there be many cōditions of men required, notwithstanding, to fashion a commonwealth, the philosophers minde is, that these foure orders should suffice: and hee altogether ex­cludes those mechanical degrees, which practise sordide, & base professions, as those, who of vertue are incapable, the rather being instrumentes, then parte of a cittie. If ther­fore authoritie grounded on effectuall reason, bee worthy of credit, it cannot bee true, that ciuilians in a cittie, are as Rhethoritians, neither that their office is to command ouer Warriors, although their authoritie stretcheth to command ouer sergeantes and executioners: for they sit to iudge and determine controuersies, & not to gouern publike affaires: yet is this no impediment, but that a Lawier may haue place in the Senate, & be in the number of Rhethoritians, when he shal not only vnderstād that which Vlpian teacheth, but shal further possesse a part of those singular vertues, wherewith Signior Cati is adorned, and al these most excellent Ciuili­ans, out of doubt most worthy councellors, of our thrise il­lustrous Prince. Seeing vnto these the name of Lawgiuers, rather agreeth, then ciuilians or Lawyers: Signior Cati fur­ther inferreth, that of lawes, & lawyers the benefit is much more vniuersall, then that of armes, and souldiers: seeing Lawes assist the whole world, and armes benefit but one ci­tie, or a Prince alone: and that the benefit of the lawes, is e­uer without other detriment: but armes cannot pleasure without others offence: we haue sufficiently declared, that armes vniuersally are beneficial, if they be moued & vnder­taken with iustice, & that God him self, by his owne mouth commandeth warres: as also that iust victorie is no lesse pro­fitable to the vanquished thā victors: For they vanquished, are by it reduced to a better life, for if armes were wicked, because of offending others, the like should the lawes bee, which cannot bee executed without bloud: The lawes commaund that menquellers bee slaine, quarrellers, and wounders, to bee recompenced with the like measure, that theeues, adulterers, sacrilegious, and finally all malefactors, [Page 294]be bitterly punished: notwithstanding, because this is done through zeale of iustice, and that the good may inioy peace, those laws are good, as also the Lawyers, if with iustice they execute them: but if they bee vniust, they doo more hurte then wicked souldiours, for souldiers preserue their friends, and by all euill meanes offende their enemies, whereas coue­tous and auaricious Lawyers, by giuing hope of safetie to their friendes, haue no other drift or intention, but to gnaw them euen to the bones. And to speake truth, of all sortes of men, the vniust Lawyer is most pernitious. I could alleadge (most illustrons Ladie) many other reasons, to manifest, that Lawyers, though they bee woorthie of honour, yet are they not therefore to be preferred before souldiers: but because I see my ship now approaching neere her port, passing ouer to custome & common vse, I affirme thus much, that Dukes, Kings, and Emperours themselues, are called Knights, but neuer Doctors: and armed in Iusts, Turneyes, and also in the middest of the fielde, in Battaile they shewe themselues amongst warriours, but in assemblies and Courts of Ciuili­ans, Lawyers, or other learned, they neuer present them­selues for disputation sake: and this for no other cause, but in that the exercise of armes is proper to great and mightie men, and more honourable then that of Letters. Do we not further see, that in solemnities and ceremonies, where pre­cedence is specially regarded, that great Captaines and men of warre, go nearer the person of the king or Emperor, then Secretaries, Chancellors, or Councellors, although they bee great Doctors, and maruailous learned men: this beeing a manifest signe, that of the same Kings or Emperours, Armes are farre more highly esteemed then Letters, and Souldiers then Doctours. But if nothing els sufficed, the iudgement of women euer infallible, might serue for certaine proofe, that warriours are more to bee esteemed then Doctours, we see­ing that the greater parte of women are rather carried away with the loue of knights, then men learned, neither can the ioy be imagined, which they feele in their hearts, when they [Page 295]see their louers appeare in Iusts or Turneyes, armed with their embleames and fanours by them giuen: and for their sakes to arme themselues, breake launces, and runne theyr gallant steedes and Coursers. So that greeue it you not, Sig­nior Cati, to rest content in common sentēce & approbation, and to leaue vnto vs warriours the highest degree of honor, seeing wee haue both obtained and preserued it, not with writings or vaine words, but with true valor, labour, and bloud, putting your selfe in mind of Milciades answere, who deruaunded which was worthiest of greater estimation, Ho­mer the great learned man, or Achilles the noble warriour, so much more, sayde he, is Achilles to be valued aboue Homer, as is the Conquerour more then hee, who with sound of trum­pet publisheth his victorie. Here Signior Giulio Caesare stay­ed: and Signior Cati minding to replie (whome preualent reasons failed not for defence of Lawyers, the Queene with her finger imposed filence, and commanded the noble Ladie Countesse, that shee should pronounce her sentence, who af­ter a little meditation, censured in this manner; We hauing heard, and well considered the reasons both of one and other partie, do determine that Ciuill honour, which is the reward of excellent and heroycall actions, ought more specially to be yeelded to men of martiall profession, and that venera­tion, proper to things diuine, befitteth the wise and learned: but reforming better this our definitiue sentence, lette vs e­nact, that watriours be esteemed honorable, and doctours re­uerend. This deepe iudicial sentence of the Lady countesse, was by al the standers by, admired. And with this, issuing out of the Barge, and mounted in sumptuous Coaches, the Ladies and Knights hauing accompanied the Duke and Ladie Duchesse to the Pallace, they all departed to their seuerall houses.