MAnye Auncient Philosophers, Gree­kes, Latines, & Hea­then, after that they had diligently discer­ned all sort of beasts, and curiously sought out their maner of liuing, and conferred their condition and nature with ours, haue written, that among all those that haue breath, that go & crepe vpon y^e earth, there is none more miserable than man. Some more rigorous censurs of the wor­kes of nature, haue begon to blaspheme against hir calling hir cruell stepmother, in the steade of gracious mother. Others haue bewailed their long daies, their life, the humaine calamities, & haue followed [Page] their steppes with teares, perswading with them selues (as an Heraclite) that no other thing than a verie rule of mise­rie, worthye of continuall plaintes and perpetuall compassion. Other by an vn­measurable laughter (like a Democrite) haue pursued the vices that raigne on the earth: Who, if he were aliue at thys present, and that he saw the disorder and confusion, that is in our christian weale, shoulde haue iust occasion to double hys laughter, and to mocke with open throte. There hath bene an other kinde, but na­turally more straunge: which not con­tenting themselues to murmure against nature, or to complaine of hir effects, but with a particular hatred, haue cleaued to man their like, thinking it a bootie or gaine, against the which she would loose all the arrowes of hir wrath & maledictiō. Among the which, Timon a Philoso­pher of Athens, hath bene the most effecti­oned Patriarke of his sect, the which de­clared himselfe open and chiefe enimie to men, & witnessed the same in the presence of all, and also confirmed it by effect: for [Page] he woulde not be conuersant or commu­nicate with men, but remained al his life alone in a wildernesse with the beastes, far from neighbours, for feare to be sene or visited of any, and being in this solici­tude, woulde speake to no man, sauing sometimes to a valiant Captaine of A­thens named Alcybiades, & yet he spake not to him for anye good will he did beare him, but for that he did foresée that he should be a scourge and tormenter of mē: and specially bicause that his neighbors the Athenians had much harme to suffer by him. And not suffised to haue mē only in horror and detestation, and to flie their companie, as the companie of a fierce or cruell beast, but in forsaking them, he sought their ruine, & inuented al the mea­nes he could to deface humaine kinde. In consideration whereof, he caused manye Gibets to be reared in his garden, to the end that y^e dispaired, & those that are wea­rie of their liues, shoulde come thither to hang them selues: So y^t on a certain time when he thought to amplifie & to enlarge his place, he was constrained for to pull [Page] downe those Gibets, for the easier fra­ming and furniture of his worke. And without great deliberation he went to Athens, whereas dispitefully he did con­gregate the people like a Heraulde that would declare some new thing, and whē they vnderstode the barbarous, a straūge voice of this feareful and vglye monster, and knowing of a long time his humor, they ranne sodenlye for to heare him, as though it had bene some sodeine miracle: then he cried out saying: Citizens of A­thens if any of you haue any deuotion to go hang him selfe, let him make hast to come quicklye, for I will cut downe my Gibets, for certain necessitie that I haue: so that hauing vsed this charitie towards them, he returned to his place without speaking of any other thing, whereas he liued manie yeares, without chaunging his opinion, and ceased not to philosophie the rest of his life vpon the miserie of mā, till such time as the pangues of death began to oppresse him, then detesting our humanitie, euen vntill the last gaspe, or­deyned expressiuely, that his bodie should [Page] not be buried in the earth, which is the common eliment and buriall for all, for feare that men shoulde sée his bones and ashes, but he streightly cōmaunded that he might be buried vpon the sea banke, to the ende that the furor of the waues might let the creatures to come néere: & then he willed that this Epitaphe recited by Plutarch, shoulde be graued on hys Tombe.

Behold how this poore Philosopher, af­ter that he had long plunged himselfe in the contemplation of humaine miseries, had will neuer to haue bene borne, or else to haue bene transformed into the shape of some brute beast, for the great disdaine he had in mens vices.

Leaue we this Philosopher Thimon, making his complaintes, and let vs har­ken a little to this great Emperour of Rome Marcus Aurelius, no lesse cunning in Philosophie, than in gouerning of the [Page] Empire: Who considering profoundlye, the frailtie and miserie in the which oure poore life is continually besieged, sayde: The battel of this world is so perillous, the yssue so terrible and fearfull, that I am assured if an auncient man shoulde come forth of his graue, and make a faith full discourse and shewe of his life, from the houre of his birth vntill the houre of his death, and that the bodie should shew all the dolours and griefes that it hath suffered, and the heart discouer al the as­saultes of fortune, men would be amased of the body which hath so much sustained, and of the heart that hath so languished, the which I haue proued in my selfe, and will liberally confesse it, though it be to my infamie, but it maye be profitable to others in time to come. In fiftye yeares that I haue liued, I thought to approue all the vices of this life, for to sée if mans malice might be satisfied in anie thing: And after that I had all séene, I founde that y^e more I eat, the more I did hunger, the more I did drinke, y^e more I thirsted: the more I slept, the more I would slepe: [Page] the more I rested, the more I breake: the more I had, the more I did couet: y^e more I sought, the lesse I found: and finallye, I neuer had thing in my possession, but that therein I found my selfe letted, and incontinentlye after, I haue wished for another. The whiche things Sainct Iohn Chrysostome hauing in admiratiō, after that he had bewailed by great com­passion the calamities of men, and the darkenesse wherein they were wrapped, crieth out saying: I desier to haue an eie so cleare, that with the same I might sée all men, and such a voice, that it might be hearde in all the corners of the earth, that all humaine creatures might heare, to the ende, to declare with the Prophet Dauid this crie: Children of men, howe long shal your hearts be hardened? And not withoute a cause, for he that woulde consider with a sound iudgement, the e­state of the world, such as it is at this present, so many disceytes, fraudes, blasphe­mies, adulteries, rapines, warres, effu­sion of bloud, violences, ambition, coue­tousnesse, haired, rancor, & vengeance, w^t [Page] the which the earth is euen drunken. He maye well saye that we approche nere to the season, of the which speaketh the Pro­phet Esay with so great abhomination, in the ninth Chapter, wherein he sayth, your iniquities haue made a deuisiō be­twéene you and your God, your sinnes haue hid his face from you, to the ende that he heare you not: for your handes are full of bloud, your fingers with ini­quitie, your lips haue spoken lies, & your tongue blasphemie. No man doeth call v­pon iustice, there is not one that iudgeth according to right, they conceiue in their mindes Fellonie, and bring forth iniqui­tie. They are enclosed with the edges of adders, and haue weaued spiders threads, they that eate of their egges shal die, and if ye breake them, there shall come forth a Basiliske, their féete runne to do euill, and they make haste to shedde innocent bloud, their thoughts are wicked thoughtes. Truth is throwne in the stretes, and equitie can not enter in, oure iniquities Are multiplied, and our sinnes beare wit­nesse against vs. Sainct Bernard in a cer­taine [Page] lamentation that he maketh vpon the miserie of our life, doth teach man to knowe his infirmitie, without drawing hym from himselfe, to this ende, that by the contemplation of himselfe, he be the sooner moued to detest his vile life, when that he sayth: O man blinde and naked, that arte made of humaine fleshe, and of a reasonable soule, remember thy mise­rable estate aud condition, wherefore goest thou out of thy owne pathes, and doest muse in externe things, & sluggest in the vanities of this worlde: and doest plunge in the wicked delicatenesse ther­of? Doest thou not consider that the ne­rer thou drawest therto, the farther thou art from God, the more thou thinkest to gaine outwardly, the more thou losest in­wardlye of that whiche is precious, the more curious thou arte in temporall things, the more bigger thou art in spi­ritual things? Thou ordaynest so well al things, and despisest thy selfe, there is no wilde beast but thou tamest, and thou thy selfe art without bit and bridle: thou art waking in euery place, but in thine own [Page] affaires thou art a slepe: y^e desier of earth­lye things boyle in thy heart, and in the meane time heauenly things are cleane defaced from thée, the nerer thou drawest to death, the farther art thou from thy saluatiō, thou takest great paine to decke and nourishe this body, which is nothing but a verie vessell of filth, and a sepulcher for wormes, & thou leauest thy poore soule which is the image of God, famished and voyde. These are the complaintes that this holy man made, in his desert against the ingratitude of this worlde: All the which things by vs being brought in, as­well of him as of others, tend to no other ende, but to prouoke man to the contem­plation of himself, and to shewe him how vile and abiect he is, to the ende that he should consider euerie minute in the day, that he is in the hād of God, as the chaffe, and as the earthen vessell is in the hande of the potter, the which he may make, vn­make, forme, breake, crase, and repaire, as to him séemeth best, without doing it any wrong or iniurie. For, what is man else but a similitude or statute in this worlde, [Page] which is a verie shoppe of the workes of God, who with one pushe will fall, and notwithstanding in what miserie so euer he be wrapt in, yet he knoweth not him­selfe, neither yet will bow vnder the yoke of God.

(Now therefore) hauing well conside­red the vniuersall state of man, it is re­quisite to make a moste ample discourse of this matter, and to contemplate man more neare, to the ende that he learne to humble himselfe vnder the hande of hys God. And therefore, that among all the Heathen, Plinie, as me semeth, hath most worthily philosophied of our nature: We wil bring him for witnesse, to y^e end that Christians to their great confusion and infamie may receiue instruction of a Pai­nim, which liued without the knowledge of God, without law, without knowledge of the heauenly and Euangelicall light. Let vs consider a little (sayth he) howe it behoueth man to couer his bodye, at the dispensation of beastes, who being fauou­rable of their natural libertie, bring euen from the bellye of their dams, some fea­thers, [Page] others heare, skin, skayles, and o­thers wooll. The like also in trées whiche are prouided with barke, for to serue thē against the cold, and against the extreme heate. And therefore for the better know­ledge in what contemnation nature hath man, she hath brought him forth alone, naked vpon the earth disdainefully, as a fruite out of time or season, and at the first houre of his death hath assigned him teares for his heritage, which are as fore­runners and messengers of his calami­ties to come. Beholde here the chiefe and head of the worke of nature, and for whō all other things are created, which is so weake of himselfe, that if he be left with­out the helpe and succour of others, he should be deuoured of wilde beastes, be­holde when that he cōmeth out of his mo­thers wombe, how that he must be wrap­ped, swaddeled, & kept warme: his lyms and ioyntes stretched out, he is borne in pride, and hath his beginning in sinne: but at what time can he stand? whē hath he the vse of speache? when can he go, to how manye diseases is he subiect? The o­ther [Page] beastes can of nature helpe themsel­ues, but man knoweth nothing if he be not taught, but of his own proper nature wepeth. Man only among the beastes is subiect to paine, passion, pleasure, ambi­tion, auarice, an vnmeasurable appetite to liue, borne only to superstition, onlye in worldlye cares, that follow him: to be short, he is subiect to wrath and enimitie. The beasts liue in peace and amitie with those of their kinde, but man alone is eni­my to man. And yet for the more fauou­ring and gratifiyng of beastes, nature hath prouided them caues and holes, to kepe them frō the rage of the tempests, thunders and lightnings, as for y^e greate ones, they haue dennes and caues in the ground: and the little ones, as Whelks, Snayles, Torterels, and such like, nature hath so prouided, that they beare with thē their houses easely on their backes.

Not only the séedes and corne, but that she hath couered with eares, the plantes with skinne, nuttes with shell, péele and rinde, and al for the conseruation of their kindes. But man hath nothing, vnlesse he [Page] séeke it with labor, and with the sweate of his browes. Furthermore if we do confer the helth and valure of beasts, with ours, we shall finde that they haue a greate ad­uauntage ouer vs, for nature hath endu­ed vs with a complectiō so wauering and vnstedfast, and subiect to so many kindes of sicknesses and diseases, that seldome we are in perfect health: besides this, she hath charged man with suche an vnsatia­ble appetite, that he ceaseth not conti­nuallye to séeke for newe and straunge kinde of meates, and hauing founde to his appetite, with greate payne he can abstaine himselfe, but that he wyll take more than nedefull: after the whiche commeth Surfets, Rheumes, Cancars, and other infinite kindes of sickenesses. But as touching beastes, they content themselues with that, that nature hathe prepared, without chaunging or forcing their nature, for to please their appetite. Moreouer nature hath giuē them a com­plection so well ruled and gouerned, that they neuer take more thā is requisite for their nourishment, neyther in drinke, nor [Page] in meat. But as for man, al the fruites of y^e earth, those of the trées, the fishes of the sea, and the Fowles of the aire, doe not suffice him, but in all points turning hys nature, he doth disguise puffe vp, & change the substance into excesse, and the nature into arte, to the ende that by such vnsati­ablenesse, nature be angered, and almost forced to take more than is nedefull: so then, when that nature is ouercharged, and that the stomacke is wel filled: all the braynes are troubled in such sorte, that there is neither of them that can execute their office. And I am ashamed that I must nedes tell it, that the vnmeasurable delicatenesse that raigneth among Chri­stians this day, is the cause that there are many, that are not ashamed to giue their bodies, and their members to al kinde of vice and villanie, and to all kinds of wic­kednesse, howe execrable so euer they be, euen in committing many fornications, theftes, fellonies. And I doe maruell that the bellies of manye vnsatiable gluttons do not rot and bruste out by their greate [Page] excesse, and in the meane time the poore Lazarus standeth at the gate redy to die for hunger, and can not haue so much as the crommes that fall from theyr table.

And therfore such Godbellies or Bel­lygods, are called by the Prophetes, fatte Calues, who by good reason may be com­pared to brute beastes: for their soule which is the chiefest part they haue (being in the bodie so perfumed with meats and drinkes) is captiue as in a darke prison or dungeon, where as it is almoste stifled and smuthered, and the wits whiche are the instrumēts, with the which she ought to be serued, are buried therein as with­in the bowels of a beast: and against such gluttons as make their belly their God, the Prophet Esay crieth out saying, Wo be to you that rise earlie to follow drun­kennesse, and to sit drinking till the E­uening, to the ende that the wine heate you: The which vice at this present day is so familiar among men, that there is not almost, neither Nation or prouince, but that is infected, and that glorieth in their great drinking. The Tartarians, [Page] the Persians, and the Gréekes haue cele­brated drūkennesse among their chiefest triumphes, and constrained them that were at their bankets to drinke or to goe their wayes. The Macedonians were in­structed of their Emperor Alexander to drinke without measure.Drunkē ­nesse of Alexāder. Plinie. But aboue all Nations, Italie hath got the price: in the which (as Plinie doth write) drunkennesse in his time did so raigne, that they did not only drink themselues out of al mea­sure, but also they constrained their Mares and Horses to doe the like. Paulus Diacrus in his Historie of Lumbardes, doth rehearse a thing almost monstrous, of the vice of drunkēnesse, of foure old mē that made a banket, in the whiche they drunke the yeares of one another, after the maner as followeth: they ordeyned to drinke two to two, and counted theyr age of yeares that they had, and he that drunke to his companion, should drinke so many times as he had liued yeres, and the yongest of these foure, was .lviij. yeres olde: the seconde, sixtye thrée: the thirde, lxxxvij. and the fourth, lxxxxij. So that it [Page] was not knowen what they did eate at this banket either more or lesse, but we know that he that drunke least, did drinke lviij. tasters of wine, and the others so many as they had liued yeares, in suche sorte that one of them did drinke .lxxxxij. times. It is not therfore without a cause that this great Philosopher Plato kno­wyng the harme that wine bringeth to man, saide, that partly the Gods had sent wine for the punishment of man, and to take vengeance of their sinnes, causing them when that they are drunke, to kyll and murther one another, the which cō ­sidered of Cyneas Ambassadour of King Pyrrhus, on a time when that he arriued in Egypt, and that he had séene the excesse height of the vineyards in that countrie, did saye that by good right that mother was hanged so highe, seing she brought forth so daungerous a childe as the wine. For this cause Androcides did admonish that great Monarch Alexāder, that wine was the bloud of the earth: and therefore he shoulde take héede howe to receyue it. The which not being well obserued by [Page] him, in his intemperancie killed Clytus, burned the Citie of Percepolis, and com­mitted manye other foule and detestable crimes. It is not therefore in this our age that these wicked vices of gluttonye and drunkennesse haue made their laste ende vpon the earth, but it séemeth that they haue nowe made almost their com­ming in with man. The transgression of our first parents Adam and Eua was the cause that the gate of Paradise was shut against vs.

Esau solde hys birth right. The great Prophet S. Iohn Baptist was cruellye slaine and murthered after that the cruel tyrant Kyng Herode had banke [...]ed. The wicked riche man was damned, for it is expressiuely saide in the Text, that he fa­red deliciously, and therfore was he buri­ed in hel. Noe being ouercome with wine slept with his priuie parts vncouered, and was mocked of his children. Loth being ouercome with wine, did deflowre his owne daughters.

Nowe therfore we sée how much more [...]auor nature hath shewed vnto beastes, [Page] than vnto vs, in that they do so moderate their appetites, that they take no more than is necessarie for the preseruation of their health, in such sort that they are not vexed with an infinite number of disea­ses as we are. And if it happen that they are afflicted with anye harmes, na­ture hath instructed them proper reme­dies without hauing refuge to Phisicke or Phisicions, which vnder the colour of receiue, chaunge R. into D. and make de­ceiue, so that somtimes we buy full deare the trauell of them which manye times cause our death, for the most part of their laxatiue medicines, are no other than very hammers to beate downe men. But if it happen that the beastes or fowles are sicke, nature doth shewe them remedies. As the wood Doues,Aristo. Plinie. Iayes, Merlings, and Partriches, the which purge theyr superfluities with Bay leaues. The Pi­geons, Turtels, and Hennes, with the herbe Helxine. The Torterels wil heale their biting with Cegue. The Dogs and Cats when their bellies are too full, will purge them in eating dewed herbes or [Page] grasse. When the Deare are hurt, they haue recourse to Dictamum. When the Wesell doeth pretende to fight a­gainst the Rattes, she prepareth and is furnished with Rewe called Herbegrace, to the ende to be the more stronger and better disposed. The wilde Boares doe medicine themselues with Cedria. The Beares with Mandragoras. Aristo. The Egles knowyng that they are bounde, and that they make their egges with great diffi­cultie, they séeke a stone named Aetites, otherwise called stone Aquilin, the which they bring to their nestes to loose them­selues, and to make them lay more easie. The which at this daye is vsed among many Dames of Italy for to shortē their trauelings. Also there are certain beasts that serue vs for medicines,Loriot. A­rist. 22. ca [...] the. 9. boke, tr [...] ­ting of beastes. as the Lor­riot named by Aristotell, Corios, of whō it is spoken, that if a man hauing the Iaunders doth beholde him, the Bird dy­eth, and the man receyueth health. Whē the Swallowes perceyue that the eyes of their yong ones are endomaged by smoke proceding frō Chimneyes, where [Page] as they make their nestes, they doe heale them with Celendine.

The Adders and other Serpents in the Spring time, to the end to cast their skin more easie, & perceyuing their eye sight to faile them, eate Fenell to solage theyr infirmitie. The Pelican doth let himselfe bloud, and draweth the very bloud from his bodie, for to heale his yong ones be­ing hurt with serpents.Polidorus of the in­ [...]ention of things. The Storkes (as all naturals confesse) hath taught Pote­caries the vse of Glisters.

Plutarch almost rauished in admirati­on with the fauors that nature hath be­stowed vpon beastes, more than on men, durst assure that the brute beastes knowe the thrée kindes of Phisick. For after that he hath proued that they knowe the ver­tue and propertie of manye herbes, as I haue before shewed, addeth more that they obserue y^• second part, that we call Diet: for whē they féele themselues too ful, they moderate their pasture, and make absti­nence: as the Lions and Wolfes doe ab­staine themselues, and remaine couched till they haue digested all. And as for the [Page] thirde part, whiche is Chirurgerie, some holde opinion that Eliphants do knowe it, and vnderstand it, for they wil pul out the dartes and arrowes of those that are stricken without any daūger. The which being liuelye considered by an auncient Gréeke Philosopher named Hirophilus, dyd complaine on the miserable conditiō of man, who although he were elected a­boue all other creatures, yet he is in ma­ny things disciple to beasts.Industrie of Svval­lovves. This is true sayeth he, the Swallowes taught him to build and edifie. But how is theyr maner when they would coue? Firste they put stiffe and strong sticks to make the foun­dation of their nestes, and then the safte ones aboue, then when that they can get no durt, y^e which they vse in stede of mor­ter in their buildings, they flie to some water or Riuer, and there bath themsel­ues till that they be wette, then they take dust, which they temper with the water, and then daube the stickes, and so make their nestes rounde compasse and euen, not squared, knowing it better for to de­fend their yong ones from the lurkings [Page] of beastes. But what is the sleight or cun­ning in little beastes? is it not a won­derful thing of nature, euen the working of Spinners or Spiders, vnto whome, women and maidens are disciples, and haue learned of them how to spinne, and to Fishers to make their nets, but they haue a much better grace, and more grea­ter aduantage in their industries, for there is no knots in their workings, nor wast, for all procéedeth from their little bodies, and they part their labor gentlye: But women and maides, they spinne and make threads for linnen and also wollen cloth, & the husband séeketh his and their liuing otherwise, and is watching and fo­lowing the beastes for to catch them and intrap them in his nets. But the Spider although his bodie be little greater than a Pease, notwithstanding, he hath suche industrie and liuelynesse, that sometime he taketh great flies and little Lezardes in his nets, and also obserueth so wel the time to chase, that he séemeth to be an A­strologian. He is contrary to vs that tary for faire weather, but he chaseth when [Page] the time is darke and cloudie, which is vnto vs a foreshewing of raine,Aristo. Plinie. as Ari­stotle writeth in his hystorie of beastes. But who maruelleth not at the miracu­lous aduenture of a Crowe,Aelian of the crovv. the whiche Plutarch writeth to haue séene in Asia, oppressed with thirst, and séeking for wa­ter, did perceyue a bucket in a Well, the which he filled with stones to make the water to rise vp to the brimme, that he might come by it.

In like case a dog being in a shippe, be­ing oppressed with thirst,Plutarch. in the absence of the Mariners did put stones in a potte wherin was oyle, for to come by it more easelye. But who had taught this beaste this secrete philosophie, that the lightest things will rise vp when the weightiest things are vnder? If we wil consider and weigh the wisedome and prudencie of hu­maines, we shall finde that little beastes that we dailye treade vnder our féete, in such matters, do surpasse men, and it sée­meth that eche of them hath some natu­rall vertue in their affections, in wise­dome, strength, cowardise, clemencie, ri­gor, [Page] discipline & erudition, for they know one another, they discerne among them selues, they prouide for things necessary, flie euil, and eschew daunger, they do ma­ny times deceyue men, and hourdeth vp that they liue by, the which being atten­tiuely considered by many aūcient Phi­losophers, haue not bene ashamed to dis­pute, & to stand in doubt whether brute beastes be partakers of reason.

Leaue we Phisicke, Diet, Chirurgery, and other Melancholike disciplines, by the which we haue proued, that beastes haue knowledge, also in some pointes they haue instructed men.Musicke in beastes. And let vs seke things more pleasant, as is Musicke, for to satisfie those which will not reade the works of others, if that there be not som­what that doeth flatter their senses, and reuiue their spirits, to the noyse of vani­tie. But what man is there, be he neuer so blockish or dull spirited, that doth not maruel, and that is not rauished with an vnspeakable delectation, hearing y^e melo­die that procedeth from the Nightingale, and [...]owe suche a shrill and harmonicall [Page] voice may issue out of so little a trunke? Furthermore he doeth perseuer so obsti­nately in his song, that his life shal sooner fayle than his voyce, by such sorte that it séemeth that he hath bene instructed of some master Musition to sing in musick:P. Belan in his Hi­storie of Birdes. for he counterfeiteth now the Meane, in­continent the Base, then the Treble, and then the Countertenor, and after being wery with tuning, he counterfeiteth hys voice and notes, and seemeth but another birde that singeth a plaine song, then sodenlye he rowleth it out with such an infinite of melodious passages, that it ra­uisheth the spirites euen to the heauens, not only of men, but also of other small birdes, the which he charmeth and staieth by his voyce, and causeth them by his swéete voyce to harken to him, and to as­saye to counterfeite him, and to get part of his melodie. And furthermore, the Nightingale wil enstruct his yong ones, prouoking them to the like harmonie, teaching them to obserue the like tunes, [...]o cōduct them with the like breath, some [...]n length, other shorte, then to courbe the [Page] notes whole, sodenly to chaunge them [...] faintings, to transforme his voyce in [...] manye sortes, that there is no humai [...] creature that can counterfeite him, [...]though Aristophanes a Gréeke Autho [...] in his Comedie of the songs of birds, ha [...] employed al the might of his spirit, th [...]king to imitate him in certaine pointe [...] the which beyng maruelled at by Dem [...] ­critus, after that he had bene many ye [...] ­res auditor to the Nightingale, and to [...]ther birdes, confesseth publikely that [...] Swannes and the Nightingale ha [...] learned Musicke to men, and that all [...] passages and tunes in Musicke, are b [...] certaine notes that men haue taken fro [...] birdes. For thys cause it is that the wy [...] Salomon knowing how much beastes [...] passe vs in many things, hath sent vs [...] their schooles & vniuersities, when that [...] sayth in his Prouerbes:Prouer. 13. There are fou [...] little things in the earth, notwithstādin [...] they are wiser thā y^e wise. The Ant wh [...] is a little kind, and yet prouideth foode [...] Sommer against Winter. The Cunni [...] which is a kynde not greate, make the [...] [Page] [...]ouses in the earth. The Grashoppers which haue no king, and notwithstāding they go by bandes. The Spider or Flie, whome you may take with your handes, and yet remayneth in Kings places. It is a thing almost incredible in these little Antes,Arist. lib. 2. cap. 30. & Plinie. to carie so waightie a burthen, with suche an extreme diligence, and to obserue suche an order among them, to parte a corne in the middest, for to carie it more easily into their caues, and if the corne be wet wyth the raine, then they drie it on a sunnie daye in the sunne. But with what industrie do they make theyr little holes, of the which the comming in is not straight, for feare that other beasts come not in, but is crooked with manye turnings, and many darke pathes, which render into thrée places: the one, where­as they kepe their Parliament, and assē ­ble in counsell, the other, whereas they put their prouision for all the yeare, and the thirde (as writeth Plutarch) is y^e place where as they burie the dead, for it is cer­taine, as the learned haue written, that they kepe y^e right vse of Funerals. Ther­fore [Page] this Philosophie of King Salomo [...] is not vnprofitable. By the which, vnd [...] the similitude and shew of these little be [...]stes, he woulde haue vs to flie ydleness [...] the mother and nourisher of all other v [...] ­ces. The which hath alway bene obserue [...] in the Primatiue Church: Where it wa [...] ordeined, that euerie one shoulde liue [...] their owne labor, for feare the fowles [...] the aire, and beastes should consume vn [...] profitably the goods of y^e earth. The whic [...] also the aunciēt Romanes kept straight­lye, as writeth Cicero in hys booke [...] Lawes, wherein he affirmeth, y^t in time [...] past, no Romane durst go by the stréetes if that he bare not a shew whereon he d [...] liue, to the ende that it might be knowe [...] that he liued of his owne labor, and not b [...] the sweate of others. In consideration therof the Consul did carie a Battell a [...] before him: the Priestes a hat, in y^e maner of a coyfe: the Tribunes a Mace: the Cu [...]lers a sworde: the Taylers a payre [...] shéeres: the Smithes a hammer: the O [...] ­rators a booke, not permitting that thos [...] that were maisters of sciences should b [...] [Page] scholers of vices. In such sorte that Mar­cus Aurelius in making mention of the auncient diligence of the Romanes,A marue­lous dili­gence of the Ro­manes. wri­teth that they did also employ and wyth such a zeale their labors & trauailes, that in Rome could not be found an ydle per­son, to carie a letter ij. or .iij. dayes iour­ney. The which maye make vs blushe for shame, that professe Christ, for if all the vagabondes and ydle persons were cha­sed and driuen out of townes and Cities, we shoulde not haue so many as we now haue. If we our selues would exactly con­sider al the things that God hath created, we shall finde that man onely resteth in idlenesse. For so much more as things are created more excellent and perfect, so hath GOD giuen them more greater trauaile. Beholde the Sunne, whiche moueth continually: and howe that the Moone is neuer stayde. The Skie and the Planets are euer mouing: the fier can not be without making some worke. The Cloudes neuer cease remouing, the wa­ters, floudes and fountaines trauell con­tinuallye, the earth is neuer in rest, she [Page] bringeth forth naturally, hearbes, plant [...] and other fruites, for to nourishe as well men as beasts. Therfore if we will con­sider all things, we shall find that nature neuer ceaseth traueling. Therfore to con­clude, there is nothing more pestilent in a common weale, than ydlenesse, for sh [...] alwaies inuenteth some mischiefe for th [...] corruption of our humanitie, in such sor [...] that we maye esteme these idle person [...] more miserable than brute beasts: of the whych, some of them as the Oxen, gyue their hydes to make shooes, their flesh to eate, & their strength to labor the ground and the innocent shéepe giueth his fléec [...] to make cloth, his flesh for to nourish vs▪ his skinne profitable for to make manye things, but man is idle, and profiteth no­thing, sauing only to offende God, slaun­der the innocent, and eate the breade of others labor. We maye then knowe by th [...]se things before written, what libera­litie nature hath vsed towards beastes whō she hath so much fauored, y^t men are constrained to follow their maners, and condicions and offices, so well ruled and [Page] ordeined. But who is that murtherer that is so muche enimie of nature, or so gredy of humain bloud, that wil not mo­derate hys ardent desier (in stealing or killing) whē that he considereth that there is no beast how brutish soeuer he be, that will kill or murther anye of his kinde? Where is that childe so vngratefull to­wardes his Parents, but that maye be moued with pitie, when that he séeth that the yong Storkes nourish their parents in their age, and minister vnto them their necessities, considering that good that they haue receyued of them in their youth, and that they are the Authors of their being? And yet Aelian addeth things more straūger to read, but much more harder to beleue: that the yong ones beare such a zelous loue towardes their old parentes, that if so be that they haue no foode readye for to sustaine them with, they will vomit that whiche they haue eaten the daye before, to giue vnto them, for feare they shoulde die, and su­staine them therewith, till that they haue sought foode. But where is that father or [Page] mother so cruell, that dare cast of their fruite, or intreate them cruelly, conside­ring that y^e Dolphin is such a zelous pro­tector of hir yong ones, that if it chaunce any of them to be takē of fishermen, they will not forsake them, but followeth thē so extremely, that they will let thēselues y^e rather to be taken, than to forsake their fruite: which is not onely peculiar in the Dolphin, but also in another fish named Glaucus, which are about Marcelis, the which although she be not so sociable & priuy to man as the other, yet she hath hir yong ones in such fauor, y^t when she séeth men or any other to effray thē, she swal­loweth them down into hir belly aliue, & when she perceyueth y^• daūger to be past, she doth vomit thē again whole & soūd in y^e water, without doing thē any harme, y^e which is a thing almost vncredible y^• this fish shuld so loue hir yong ones y^• she had rather suffer harme, thā that they should be hurt. Who is it therfore that wold not paciently endure pouertie, if she chaunce or happen to come, if he wil cōtemplate y^e nature of the fish called Polypus, whiche [Page] is a drie kind, féeling hir self oppressed w^t hūger, & séeing that nourishment faileth, wil eat y^e brawn of hir armes, being assu­redThe Poli­pus vvill eat hirself if she wāt fode. y^t they wil grow againe. What mā is he so fearful, that wil not be cōforted whē he séeth y^e pangs of death, although it be terrible, if he diligently consider how the Swannes sing, when they feele the laste ende, although they haue no hope of ano­ther life to come. There is no father so vnnaturall to his childe, that he will de­fraude him of his right enheritance to ad­uauntage a straunger, if he take regarde to the order that the Swallowe kepeth in the nourishing of hir yong ones, who as writeth Aelian in his Gréeke Historie,Aelian. treating of beastes, obserueth and kepeth a iust order in the distribution of their foode, and for that she cannot bring all at a time, she goeth oftētimes to seke foode, and violateth in no poynt the right of the firste borne, for he that is first borne, is the first serued, the seconde borne, is se­cond serued, and so following in order, without defrauding any of them of their right. Which is the occasion that an In­dian [Page] Philosoper named Diphileus, after that he had weighed vprightly the maner and facion of this little fowle, in giuing meat to hir yong ones, crieth out saying: y^t this great work, maistres dame nature had graued certaine lawes and orders in beastes, whiche ought to be examples to men, howe to conduct the estate of theyr life. In like maner, there is no man, but that maye receyue some doctrine of the prudencie of the Cuckowe,Prudency of the Cuckow. the which is reputed wise among all others (although that we do abuse and hate them) who by a certaine naturall prudencie that they haue, know their infirmitie, that by their excessiue colde nature they can not coue their egges, neyther yet they make them any nest, but they haue the industrie to espie where other Birdes make their nestes, and there layth hir egges, and lea­ueth them secretlye (knowing) for that they be like others, they shall be hatched and brought vp: the whyche is a verye Myrror or glasse, sayth Fulgentius, for fa­thers being men of small faculties, and haue manye children, that they shoulde [Page] prouide for them maisters, to this ende, that for default not to haue bene main­tained in their youth, be faine to begge and to labor in their age, when as they should rest. Moreouer, what seruaunt is he,The ex­cellencie & noble­nesse of the horse. be he neuer so sturdie or stout, that is not moued, considering the gentillitie and noblenesse of the horse, whose heart is so highly set, that for to die he will not leaue his maister in daunger, but hath such fiercenesse, which prodigally nature hath giuen him, by the which we may sée him like a thunder breake the prease of the men of warre, murther and kill those that let him in his waye: and finally ne­uer to cease trauelling, till the victorie be had. And if men may take example in the fidelitie of a horse, yet that is nothing in regarde to that which we daily sée in our dogges (who knowing their maisters) wil flatter them, cherish and be ielous of thē, following them through the world, kno­wing aboue all others him that nouri­sheth them, and they are such faithfull ke­pers of their maisters goods, that for to die they will not let it be stollen. In con­firmation [Page] whereof I wil bring forth an example recited by Plutarch, and manye other Gréeke and Latine Authors wor­thy of credence, which shalbe sufficient to giue feare to murtherers, bloudshedders, and others which make such good cheape of humaine bloude: whose doings, oure Lorde God doeth so abhorre, that he per­mitteth brute beastes to execute his iu­stice, as it is most euidently manifested by this Historie following.

The Elders that haue written of the nature of beastes, make mention of a King named Pyrrhus, the whiche mar­ching on a daye with his armie,A storie vvorthie of memo­rye, of a dogge. came by a dog which stoode by his maisters deade bodie in a hie waye, and after that he had behelde a while this pitifull spectacle, he was aduertised by certain country men, that that was the thirde daye, that this poore beast had kept the dead bodie, with­out any meate. For the which occasion, the King commaunded the dead bodie to be buried, and that the dog for his fayth­fulnesse shoulde be nourished and inter­tained in his Court, and certaine dayes [Page] after, he made inquisition of the mur­ther, but he coulde know nothing therof. It chaunced not long after, that his men of warre made their mus [...]er before him, that he might sée their order. The dog of whom was made mention, was alwayes with the King, and remayned verie sadde and heauie, till those passed by that had staine his maister: then with a maruel­lous furie he ran against them, and wold haue bitten them, howling most pitiful­ly, turning him to King Pyrrhus, and be­holding him most attentiuelye, séeming as though he woulde haue asked iustice: which was the occasion that the King and all the assistants did suspect the murther to be committed by those, in such sort that by these coniectures, they were exami­ned, conuinced, and punished according to their desertes. A thing miraculous, wherin God doth shew himself a iust and righteous Iudge in his iudgements, and that he hath murtherers in so great dete­station that shed humaine bloud, that he permitteth brute beastes to accuse them and shew them their vices. I might here [Page] bring an infinite number of examples as well Ecclesiasticall as prophane, by the which it is euidently shewed, that in the contemplation of beastes, there maye be found an harmonious Philosophie, as well morall as naturall. For considering their maners and actions, so well ordey­ned according to the vse of nature, theyr iustice, temperature, fortitude and beha­uiour, in the administration of their smal publike weales, their continencie to the workes of nature, wyth certaine other partes of vertue that they exercise: by the diligent consideration of which, man may enter into his owne conscience and aduise, as being ouercome of those in many things, and considering his miserie and pitifull Metamorphose, and howe he doth degenerate from his excellency and dignitie, he is moued to abhorre his life, finding himselfe inferior to those whome he ought to excell, as much as he passeth thē in honor and dignitie. For this cause our Sauiour Christe calleth the Scribes and Phariseys, in Sainct Mathewe, the children of wrath. And that Esaye repro­uing [Page] y^e children of Israell of their ingra­titude towardes God, sheweth them by example, that the Oxe and the Asse know their masters Crib, but Israell knoweth not his Lorde God. Also we are admoni­shed by the history of the herde of Swine (which by the permission of God were vexed of the Diuell) that those that con­sume their life in deliciousnesse,Against the Epi­curians. as a great manye Belligods that raigne thys daye in the world, and lead a corrupt life, shall one day be made a pray for Diuels. For seing they wil not be the temple and house of God, and habitation of the holy ghost, they muste néedes be the mansion of Diuels. Suche Hogges are those that make their Paradise in this worlde, and that dissemble their vices, the which they sée with their eyes, and touch with theyr fingers, for feare that they haue to léese the earthly richesse, their offices, benefi­ces, prebendaries and dignities, for feare to be depriued from their carnall lustes. Suche Swine are flatterers, that all the time of their liues do no other thing but kéepe Princes in their error, and that [Page] haue for the first article of their faith, that there is no God but their bellye, for all their religion is conuerted to carnall li­bertie. As touching the lawe of Iesus Christ, it is too thornishe, they will none of it, they will not drinke of his cup, the drinke séemeth to them too bitter: they must haue a Iesus Christ arraied in vel­uet, more swéete, more softe, more amia­ble, and more delicate. They can not a­way with the sharpnesse of S. Iohn Bap­tist, they séeke for the Courtes of Kings, and the pompes of the worlde, and they haue no other pleasures in this worlde, but to thinke how they maye liue easily. They maye well for a while cloke and disguise their iniquity, but one day it shal be discouered, before the face and throne of God,Psal. 139. as Dauid doth well vnderstand, when he sayth, whither shall I goe then from thy spirite, or whither shall I go thē from thy presence, if I climbe vp to hea­uen, thou art there, if I go downe to hell, thou art there also, if I take the wings of the morning, and remaine in the vtter­most parts of the sea, euen there also shal [Page] thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shal holde me. If I say peraduenture the dark­nesse shall couer me, then shall my night be turned to daye, yea the darknesse is no darkenesse with thée, but the night is as cleare as the day, he that made the Eare, shall not he heare? he that made the eye, shall not he sée and consider? Therefore to conclude, it is great horror and abho­mination, that man whiche is but a miserable worme of the earth, that maye scant créepe, without the hope of eternall life, and is the most miserable of all crea­tures, how that he dare repugne against the order of nature, and his owne office, in which al other creatures remaine, and also how he dare rise against God, which in a moment maye consume him. But who is it that doth not maruell at the for­getfulnesse of man, that alone dare resist the Lord God, vnto whom all other crea­tures, heauē, earth, sea, starres, planets, all Elementes, beastes, fowles, fishes, angels and diuels do obey.

WE haue here in thys first booke conferred man with the beasts, and shew­ed that he néede not mag­nifie and exalte him selfe aboue them, considering that he is inferior to thē in many things.The Au­thor be­ginneth to disco­uer more profoūd­ly the hu­maine miseries. Hauing therefore this light foundation, and figured certaine things of the mise­ries of man, there resteth following, our discourse, to penetrate more further, and to continue this pitifull tragedie of the life of man, beginning at his gene­ration and production, then discouering throughout all ages, and particulars of his life, till we haue brought him to his sepulcher, which is the ende of all things. But first, let vs sée of what séede he is in­gendred, only of corruption and infecti­on. What is the place of his birth, but only a foule and filthy dungeon?Hippo. in his booke of infant­ments. Howe long is he in the womb of his mother, be­fore he be like any thing than a vile lump of flesh, in such sort that when the wombe [Page] hath retained and taken both séedes, and heated by the naturall heate, it createth a little thin skin, almost like to that which is next to the shell of an egge, that it is like nothing but an egge, layde out of tyme, then certaine days after, the spirits and the bloud mingled together, begin to boyle in such sorte, that there riseth thrée bladders like to bowels that flote in a ry­uer, which are the places wherein is for­med the thrée most noble parts of this su­perbious beast, the Liuer, the Heart, and the braynes,Praise of the brains Hippoc. which is the most excellen­test parte of this worke, the seidge of all the functions, the true fountaine of fée­ling, the mouing of the most mightiest pallace of intelligence and memorie, the right arche of reason. If we consider like­wise by their order, the creation of all o­ther parts, and how they be formed, and howe the childe being in the mothers wombe,N. Dehā ­pas in the contem­plation of nature. beginneth to make water by the conduct of the Nauell, and how the water is receiued in a little skin or bladder, se­parated from the childe, ordeyned of na­ture to that office, and howe he hath no [Page] purgings by the fundement, for that he receiueth no sustenance by the mouthe, and that the bowels and stomacke doeth not yet his office, by the whiche meanes nothing is transported into the lower partes. And howe that the sixe first dayes he is as milke, the nine dayes following, bloude, the other twelue days after, flesh, and the eightene dayes that followe, the soule is inclosed. I know not therefore so Diamond a heart which is not moued & rauished with great admiration to contē ­plate things so pitiful & stran̄ge. And yet this that we haue spoken, is very littel, if we wil consider more neare the things that follow, who is it that will not mar­uel, cōsidering in what maner he is nou­rished, and with what guiding, without hauing the vse of the mouth, vntill he be borne into the world, then how much his nature is tender, frayle and weake, in suche sort, that if the mother be neuer so little hurt or smitten, if she smell y^e smoke of a candell snuffe, it is enough to kill the fruit in hir wombe. The which hath cau­sed Plinie to be waile our humaine cala­mities, [Page] saying, I am ashamed to consider how fraile the beginning is of him that tameth all beasts, séeing that oftentimes the smell of a snuffe of candell ouercom­meth the mother. But whilst he is in the wombe of his mother, with what foode is he nourished, what preseruations hath nature prepared for him? If that his creation hath séemed vnto vs straunge, no doubt his sustentation will rauish vs in more greate admiration, seing that he is a substance of bloud, and instrument of his mother. The which is so detestable and vncleane, that I can not withoute great horror rehearse that which the Phi­losophers and Phisicions haue written, that haue treated of the secrets of nature. Those therefore that are curious of such things, let them reade Plinie, which hath written thereof in his naturall historie.7. booke. And after that he hath bene long sub­stance of this venim, and that he is for­med & becommeth in quantity sufficient, séeking therefore for more greater nou­rishment, & that he cannot receyue by the Nauell so much as is néedefull, by greate [Page] paine he doeth assay to seeke sustenaunce,The vio­lence that a chile doth to nature vvhen his nine mo­nethes are accom­plished. which is the occasion that he moueth and breaketh the panicles & sustainements, that he hath alwayes had till that tyme, then the wombe feeling it self pained, wil kéepe him no longer in, but séeketh mea­nes to bring him forth, and therefore it openeth, & by the said opening, the childe féeling the atre, followeth to come forth, and straineth more and more to draw in­to the world, and to enter into the light therof, not without great violent dolors and offence of his tender and delicate bo­die. But during the nine monethes how great paine and torment doeth the poore mother suffer and beare? Without put­tyng in coumpt some that during the time that they be great, léese their appe­tite, and couet to eate humaine fleshe, in such sort that we reade in some historiesDiuerse appetites of vvomē vvith childe. that the poore husbandes haue bene con­strained to depart and absent thēselues, others haue desired to eate ashes, hotte burning coales, and other like things ac­cording as the humors broken and depra­ued, abound in their bodies. Furthermore [Page] what anguishe and paine the poore mo­thers suffer in their childings,The mi­serie of pore mo­thers in their chil­dings. and what daunger they are in, it is manifest, som­times there are children that come forth their arms first, & others their fete first, others their knées first, and others ouer­thwart. But that which is more cruell, and that we cannot apprehend without horror, is, that sometimes it is force to cal Chirurgians, Mediciners and Bar­bars, in stede of wise Matrons and Mid­wiues, to dismember the children and pull them out by pieces, and sometime it behoueth to open the poore innocent mother aliue, and put yron tooles in hir bodie, yea to murther hir for to haue hir fruite: some children are borne so mon­ster like and deformed, that they are not like men, but abhominable monsters: some are borne with .ij. heades, and foure legges, as one which was séene in the Citie of Paris, whilst this booke was a making, others cleping together, as hath bene séene in Fraunce, and in other places. Two women children were [Page] borne ioyned together by the shoulders, after the one had liued a certaine time, died and infected the other. Polydorus writeth,Mōstrous childings. that before that Hannibal had chased Marcellus, that a womā brought forth a childe, hauing the heade like an Eliphant, another hauing foure féete like a beast. The sage historians doe write, that a Courtisan of Rome, in the yeare of grace, fiue hundreth and eigh­tene, bare a child halfe a beast & halfe a man. Those that haue written the Indi­an histories, do testifie for a suretie, that there are at this present, children halfe beastes, by the occasion of certaine bru­tish men that are there. Some there are that are borne blinde, others deafe, o­thers dumbe, and others there are born lame of their limmes, for whō their pa­rents are sorowfull. In such sort that if we consider attentiuely all the misery of our natiuitie, we shall finde the olde Prouerbe true, which sayth, that we are conceyued in filth & vnclennesse, borne in sinne and care, and nourished wyth [Page] paine and labor. Here therfore you may sée the first action of the tragedie of the life of humaines. Here you may sée his life and gouernement, whilst he is in­closed in his mothers wombe. Well, this prisoner being once come forth of this his maternall prison, let vs consi­der what he is, being vpon the earth. What? is he any other thing than the similitude of a poore worme that cōmeth out of the earth, with what clothing is he couered, making his most glorious entrie into the pallace of this world? on­ly with bloud, in the which he is bathed and couered, whiche is nothing els but the image and figure of sinne, which by the bloud is signified in Scripture. O grieuous necessitie, O cruell and misera­ble condition, that before this creature hath sinned, he is bond and seruant of sin. This is the bitter grape, of y^e which speaketh the Prophet Ieremie, that our fathers did eate, and their children had yet their téeth set on edge, by the which is presented the originall sinne. What [Page] is the first song that man singeth, com­myng into this worlde, onely wepings, teares, and bewaylings, which are as messengers and foreshewers of his cala­mities to come, the which bicause he cā not shewe by wordes, he witnesseth by teares and cries. And notwithstanding, here is y^e beginning of Monarchs, Kin­ges, Princes, Emperors and others, that rise in dignities in this worlde. The worme be he neuer so little, as soone as nature hath brought it out of the earth, beginneth to craule and créepe, and to seke pasture. The little Chicke as soone as he is out of the shell, is found cleane, and néedeth not to be washed as man, he runneth after the Hen, and knoweth when he is called he pecketh and eateth, he feareth the Kite, without prouing be­fore hir malice, he flieth the daunger, on­ly guided by nature. But consider man, assone as he is in the worlde, is a little fearefull monster, & lump of flesh, which will let himself be eaten of other beasts, if he be not séene too, or die for hunger [Page] before he can gripe his mothers breast, and will assoone eate poyson as any good meat, before he can discerne the good frō the euill: if he be left in his cradell, he will be stiffeled in his owne doung or filth, and is so vnable, that he cannot caste out his owne doung, and yet the little birdes of the aire, and beastes can doe it. Beholde here the perfumes and swéete sauors, with the whiche nature hath embalmed man, and decked him that maketh so great brag of Hercules, & that nameth himselfe chiefe head of al other creatures.The mi­serie of man that is nouri­shed by another than his mother. This miserable crea­ture being once plunged in the gulfe of miseries, it behoueth him to haue nou­rishment and clothing, for to comforte the infirmitie of his nature. This office is appointed for mothers, in considera­tion whereof, nature hath giuen them breasts, which are like little bottels, ve­ry proper to that effect.Misery of man in his nouri­ture. But how manye mothers are there at this present, or for to speake the truth, cruell stepmothers, vnto whom it sufficeth onely, to bring [Page] the children into this world, and for that they wil not take a little paines to nou­rish them, they send them to sorrowfull villages, for to be nourished of straunge and vnknowen nurses, which often ti­mes do chaunge them, and bring home others. Also they will be lesse ashamed to holde a little dog in their armes, than the fruit that they haue ingendred. The which practise is not in beastes, be they neuer so brutish, for they neuer put their yong ones, in the keeping of others, though nature giue them neuer so ma­ny, but they nourish them themselues, and are suche zelous protectors of theyr yong ones, that they kéepe them always in their armes, til such time as they can auoide daunger. And that which is more to be maruelled at, there riseth a certain gelousie betwene the male and the fe­male, who shalbe the kéeper, and for that intent they quarrell together, and fight one with another. The whiche maye be séene not only in the Apes and others, but also in Beares,The Apes whiche of their na­ture [Page] are fierce and cruell, and yet they haue so greate affection to their yong ones, that they are not only content to nourishe them with their milke, but so soone as they are brought forth, hauing almost no forme nor facion,An exam­ple for fa­thers and mothers. they licke them and pullyshe them to make them more perfect. Likewise the little Birds, who although they haue fiue or sixe vn­der their wings, and hauyng neyther milke, grayne, nor other séede for their sustenance, notwithstanding they spare neither Arte nor diligence, wherewyth nature hath endued them for their nou­rishment. It is therefore a true witnesse of humaine miserie, sooing that man be­ginneth so soone to be depriued of that which to him is due, by iust right of na­ture, being forced to sucke the milke of a straūge woman, yea, and many times of such a one, as maye be founde best cheape, what corruption or deformitie so euer she haue. The which many times is so contagious vnto the children, that it were better for them to be nourished [Page] of some brute beast in the wildernesse, than to be put into the mercie of suche nurses, for not onely the bodye remay­neth infected and marred, as by antiqui­tie, the experience hathe bene in Titus, sonne to Vespasian, and many others, the which as writeth Lampridus, was all the dayes of his life subiect to infir­mities and sicknesses, for that he was noursed of one subiect to sicknesse. But that worse is, when that there remay­neth some spot or crime in the soules of this vicious noursing, as Dion y^e greke writeth, in the seconde booke of Cesars, when he maketh mention of Caligula, the fourth Emperour of Rome, the cru­elties and infamies of whome, was not imputed to father or mother, but to the nurse that gaue him sucke, the which be­ing cruell or barbarous of hir selfe, rub­bed the endes of hir breasts with bloud, causing the childe, to whome she gaue milke, to sucke them. The which thing was afterward so well practised of him, that he did not only commit an infinite [Page] number of murthers,The vn­credible crueltie of Caligula. but he lycked hys sworde and hys dagger wyth hys toung, beyng bathed and stained with bloud, and wished that al the world had but one head, to the ende that with one blow he might beheads them and raigne alone vpon the earth. Seing then that the childe hath not felt or suffered sorow inough in his mothers wombe, as soone as he is borne, there is prepared for him new sorrow, by the ingratitude of mo­thers, which are so delicate and tender themselues, that they will not nourish them, but cause them to sucke the milke of those that oftentimes chaunge their fruite, or els féede them with milke vici­ous and depraued, by the which meanes in processe of time there riseth a number of diseases, as the Poxe, the Leprosie, and other like, as many Phisitiōs haue declared, to the great hurt of poore chil­dren, and continuall infamie of their mothers, for this is of a truth, that if the nurse be frowarde, or subiect to drun­kennesse, or otherwise of maners depra­ued, [Page] the childe shall be frowarde, not by the receiuing of the milke, but with oftē looking vpon them, if she be a drunkerd, she will cause the childe to be the like, as it is read in the life of the Emperor Tiberius, who was a great drunkerd, for that the nurse that gaue him sucke, did not only drinke vnmeasurably, but also she gaue the childe soppes tempe­red in wine.Cardan in his booke De subtili­tate. Here you may sée, that the nurses haue so muche power, as to re­forme the maners and bodie of y^e childe. So that if she be sickly, she rendreth the childe sicklye, if she be wicked, she cau­seth the childe also to be wicked. Leaue we him therefore in the protection and kéeping of his nurse. In howe manye daungers is he wrapped, whilst that he is a nursing, what paine and displeasure haue they, which in the mean time haue the charge of them, some will crie all the night long, so that their nurses can take no rest, some when they can scant go, will fall and breake their faces, and their lims, so that many times there is [Page] séene manye woundes and sores aboute them, without putting in coumpt many diseases, which they take of the corrupti­on of their parents. But who is not a­stonied, to sée the fantastical workings of this little childe, the which for y^e most part ceaseth not to dabble in the water, like a little frog, maketh little houses of earth, counterfeiteth the horsman in ri­ding on a little sticke, runneth after dogs and cats, wil be angry with some, and pleased with others, who woulde thinke that such a miserable creature so vile and abiect, being couered with so manye maledictions, by succession of time woulde be come so proude and loftie. The which being profoundly con­sidered by the tragicall Poet Euripides writeth after this sort.

[Page] But much more worthily,Roland Peter in the tradu­ction of bookes of the na­ture of man. and with an other zeale, the great celestiall Prophet Iob made the like complaint, when he had his rigorous combats or reasonings with God, saying:

If then the great Prophet Ieremie hath bewailed by great compassion the common weale, being captiue in Babi­lon, and if Anchises hath lamented the destruction of Troie, the Consull Mar­cellus the citie of Siracusa when he sawe it on fier, and Salust the corruption of Rome: We may wel with so many men of fame bewaile the miserable entrie that man maketh into this worlde, hys [Page] aduauncement, and perillous conuersa­tion, & his sorowfull and strong depar­ture, which being profoundly considered by the Prophet Esaye doth bewaile hys birth,Esay. ix. and murmureth against his knees that helde him vp, and also the breastes that gaue him suck. Likewise,Iere. xx. the Pro­phet Ieremie being pricked with the like spirite, and considering that man is made of the moulde of the earth, con­ceyued in sinne, borne in payne, and at the last made a praye for wormes, doeth wishe that his mothers wombe had ser­ued for his tombe. But let vs take a lit­tle héede at the most excellent anotamie that the holie Prophet Ioh maketh, whē he sayth:Iob. xiii. Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to liue, and is full of miserie, he commeth vp and is cutte downe like a flower, he flieth as it were a shadowe, and neuer continueth in one state. Now let vs gather somewhat out of these wordes, and lay the weight and authoritie to eche one of his sentences, and we shall find that all the heathenish [Page] Philosophie is but dreames and smoke, to the regarde of that of the spirite of God, when that he will enstruct man to humble and knowe himselfe, as appea­reth, when that he calleth him (mā born of a woman) hath he saide that without a cause? no, for among all the creatures whome God hath created, there is not one more subiect to miseries and infir­mities than a woman, especiallye those that are fruitfull, for they haue scant a monethes rest in a whole yere, but that they are continually ouercome with so­row and feare. Then he sayth (hauing a short time to liue) what is more shorter than the life of mā, vnto whom in stop­ping his nose and his mouth, the life is gone, for his life is nothing but a little blaste of winde inclosed therein. The which being considered by Theophra­stus, A com­plaint of Theo­phrastus, for that the life of beastes is longer than the life of man. and manye others, murmured a­gainst nature, whiche had giuen the be­nefite of long life to Hartes, Rauens, and other foules, aud beastes, vnto whō the life brought no profit, and vnto mā, [Page] King of all things vpon earth, hath gi­uen so short life, althoughe he knoweth howe to employe his time, and yet the little time that he hath, is shortned by sléepes, dreams, angers, cares, and other indignations, in suche sorte that if we shoulde recken al, there resteth nothing lesse than life. Then the Prophet com­pareth man to a shadowe, what is thys shadow? anye other thing than an out­warde shew, that deceiueth the sight of man, a phancie, a false figure, without substance, the which sometimes séemeth to be greate, and incontinently little. Euen so it is wyth man, the whiche sometimes séemeth to be somewhat, and neuerthelesse, of himselfe is nothing. For whē that he is elected most highest, and when that he is in the highest de­grée of honor, then sodenly he perisheth, so that no man knoweth where he is be­come, no more than a shadowe when the night is come, and to him it chaunceth as the Prophet Dauid sayth: I haue séen the wicked, mightie and flourishing as [Page] the gréene Bay, and I haue passed by, and he was gone. I haue sought him, but he was not to be found.

We haue here shewed as much as is possible, by howe many perillous daun­gers man hath his first comming forth into this worlde. Nowe therfore let vs consider a little, what he is when he is sprōg vp, let vs sée whether that there is any end of his miseries. But if we be equitable Iudges, we shal finde that ra­ther he doth encrease his miseries, for it is the season wherein nature doth reare agaynste him a more furious combat, his bloud beginneth to rise, the flesh pro­uoketh him to his owne pleasure, the sensualitie doth lead him, the malicious worlde espieth him, the diuell tempteth him, so that it is impossible, but that he which is assailed with so manye vices, & succoured of none, in the ende is discom­fited and ouercome, for in the bodye in youth, riot, libertie, richesse, and delici­ousnesse, aboundeth all the vices in the world, saith Marcus Aurelius, and there [Page] plant their siege. It sufficeth not onely this miserable creature, Man, to be no­rished with straunge milke, but also he must be constrained to receiue instruc­tions of others than of his parents.A com­plaint of fathers that com­mit their children to igno­rant and vicious tutors. For there are fewe Catoes that will take the pains to instruct their children, they are forced to proue the seueritie of masters, for to teach them the beginning of Arts & sciences, seing that there is no ground be it neuer so fruitful & luckye, but will be vnfruitfull, if it be not diligently la­boured, and the more fruitfull and fat­ter it is, the more wéedes and Darnell it will bring forth: Also the more that the childe is wakened, the more peril there is, least he straye, it behoueth when the trées are yong to vpholde them, and to cut the ouerweightie braunches, if that afterwarde ye pretende to gather anye fruit. Likewise it is necessarie to reform and correct the vices that raigne in youth, least that afterwarde it returne to the parents ignominie and reproch. But there are at this day manie fathers [Page] and mothers, which for defaulte not to haue well instructed their children in their youth, in steade of rest and conso­lation, and eate their breade in theyr age, with sorrow. Moreouer there are many mothers, whiche in steade of gi­uing them good and godlye instructions in their youth, intertaine and nourishe them in volupteousnesse and delicious­nesse, but though they are nourishers of their bodies, yet are they destroyers of their soules. And if Heli was grieuously punished with his children,An ill ex­ample of fathers tovvardes their chil­dren. for that he did not chastice them so sharply as their offences did requier: what shal become of those fathers and mothers, which in steade of correctors of their children, are their corruptors? and these kinde of pa­rents are compared to Apes, which kyll their yong ones by too muche straining them betwene their armes, and kéeping them so deare, and this is the cause that so many fall into the hands of the hang man, which are to them reformers and correctors. The auncient Romaines had [Page] those parentes in so greate detestation which did not correct their children, that they did ordein and stablish a law which was called Fatidia. By the which it was ordeined, that for the first attempt the said Law should be shewed the child, for the seconde time he should be corrected, and the thirde time hanged, and the fa­ther to be banished, as for default of gi­uing chasticement to their childrē, they were partakers of their euill. But I would gladly demaund what those aun­cient Romaines would doe, if they saw the pitiful estate of many of oure com­mon weales, with what Irons, with what bondes or torments woulde they beate downe the fathers and mothers? who in the steade of giuing good exhor­tations to their familie, and to shew thē selues the first examples of vertue to their children, before that they send thē to be instructed, they them selues doe breake and depraue thē by their naugh­ty and wicked examples. For the firste precept that they giue them how to liue [Page] well,Many mothers make the ropes vvhere­vvith their chil­dren are hanged. is to blaspheme, crie, exercise glut­tony and drunkennes, to dispise the sub­stance of their innocency, to be a forni­cator? and to kisse women and maidens in their presence. And manye mothers there are this daye in the worlde, which doe as Herodias did, that learne theyr daughters to daunce, Rethoricke ter­mes, to haunt companies, scoffe & flout, to paint and plaister their faces, to deck their fingers with rings, & their neckes with Iuels, as though they were Iuell sellers pretending to kéepe a shop. But in the ende it will chaunce to them as it chaunced to the Prophet Dauid, whose sinne was punished by his children, which were so wicked, that one of them named Aman did deflowre his owne si­ster Thamar: and the other called Ab­salon did kill hys brother Aman. Af­terwarde he sought the death of hys owne father, and chased him out of hys kingdome. The rule of the auncient Philosophers hath alwayes bene found true, that many committe manye grie­uous [Page] crimes in this world, y^• punishing wherof, God kepeth in the other worlde, except the sinne that man committeth in the bringing vp of his children, for the whiche customablye he beareth the paine and punishment in this worlde. For the father can giue to the child but fraile and mortall fleshe, by the corrup­tion whereof, the life taketh end, but by good learning and knowledge, the eter­nall praise and memorie redoundeth. Therefore to conclude, if that the chil­dren haue hene in great perill and mi­sery, being nourished with spotted milk, for the most part of straūge nurses, yet the perill doubleth to those that shoulde cause them to be instructed, for that the foode of the bodie is more vile than the foode of the soule. But for bicause that we haue not yet spoken of Plato who hath more deuinelye philosophied vpon humaine calamities, than all the rest of the heathen, the whiche he hath so well gathered together and set forth, that many reading his booke of the immor­talitie [Page] of the soule, did cast them selues from the hie rockes and mountains in­to the flouds and raging waues, to the ende, that ending the thréede of their spitefull life, they might haue the fruitiō and ioye of the seconde life, which is the true and assured place of rest.

This greate Philosopher Plato, in a Dialogue that he hath made of death, and discourse of this wicked world, wri­teth to a certaine Philosopher named Socrates, and sheweth by a maruellous eloquence, the miseries of our life, as followeth. Knowest thou not (sayth he) that this humayne lyfe is as a pilgri­mage, the whiche the good and wise men performe in ioye, singing with gladnes, when that of necessitie they drawe to their last end. Doest thou not know that man consisteth of the soule, the which is shut vp within, as in a tabernacle, with the which nature hath inclosed vs, not wythout great troubles and vexations: and yet in the meane time, if she destri­bute vnto vs any part of hir goods, they [Page] are hidden from vs, and are of a shorte time, ioyned with sorrowe and bitter­nesse, at the occasion whereof, the soule féeling dolor and griefe, desireth the ce­lestiall habitation, and wisheth for the benefites thereof. Consider that the de­parture out of this worlde, is no other thing than a chaunging from euill to good. But harken, sayth he, from thy na­tiuitie vnto thy graue what kinde of mi­sterie is there but that thou hast tasted, eyther penurie, colde, heate, stripes. &c. yea, before that man can shewe his co­gitations and thoughtes. What other messenger or more certaine token can he haue of his miseries, than his wée­pings, wailings and complaintes, after that he hath tasted so many euils, & that he is come to the seauenth yeare of his age: then it behoueth him to haue tutors and scholemaisters for to instruct him in good learning: growing further in yea­res, and comming into his adolescency, it behoueth him to haue more rigorous reformers for to tame his wilde youth, [Page] and to breake him to labor. This being done, his beard beginneth to grow, and then he becommeth man, and yet not­withstanding, it is then the time that he entreth into déeper cogitations and tra­uaile in the spirite: it is requisite then that he frequent publike places, that he haunt the company of those that are as touchstones for to knowe the good from the euill. If he be come of a greate and noble stocke, he must make many enter­prises of warre, to put himselfe in infi­nite perils, hazarde his life, to shed hys bloud for to die in the bed of honor, or els he shall be reputed a dastardlye co­ward, and despised of all men. If he be of base estate, and that he be called to the knowledge of Artes, for all that he lea­ueth not to runne into a thousand daū ­gers, trauailes, paines, and lettings, as­wel of the bodie as of the soule. He tra­uaileth daye and night, and sweateth water and bloude, for to get againe that which shall maintaine his estate during his life, and oftentimes it is séene what [Page] paine so euer man doth take for his li­uing, he can scant get to serue his nece­ssitie. It is not therefore without a cause that Marcus Aurelius theA nota­ble sen­tence of Marcus Aurelius vpon hu­main mi­series. . xvij. Emperour of Rome, considering the miserable condition of oure humani­tie, was wont to saye, I haue thought in my selfe whether there myght be founde any estate, anye age, any king­dome or any worlde, wherin might be founde anye one man, that dare vaunt not to haue tasted in hys lyfe time ad­uersitie, and if there might be founde one, it shoulde be suche a fearfull mon­ster on the earth, that bothe the deade & the liuing woulde be amased to behold him, then he concludeth after this sort, saying: And in the ende I founde mine owne account true, that he that was ye­sterdaye riche, was to day poore, he that was yesterday in helth, was to day sick, he that laughed yesterday, to daye did weepe, he that was yesterday in prospe­ritie, was to daye in aduersitie, he that was yesterday aliue, was to day deade. [Page] Let vs now return to our former wor­des, and deduct the great things by the lesse. Who is he among the humaines, that hath giuen himselfe to any science, or otherwise to liue, whose science hath not in the ende accused him, and with the whiche he hath not bene displeased, combered and werie? and for the better triall therof, let vs consider particular­ly the principall estates.The mise­rie of those that saile on the sea. Let vs beginne with those that occupie the water, and sayle on the seas, in howe many daun­gers are they in day and night? what is their habitation? any other than a foule and filthy prison, as also their maner of liuing? what is their raiment but only a verye smell of the wether? they are al­wayes vagabondes, and continually in exile, without anye rest, beaten with windes, raine, haile, snowe, in feare of Pirats and Rouers, rockes and tempe­stes, and in hazarde to be buried in the bellies of fishes. For this cause it is that Bias y^e wise Philosopher Gréeke knewe not whether he should recken these kind [Page] of people among the terrestrial or aqui­tall sort, & doubted whether y^e he should number them among the liuing or a­mong the deade. And another named A­nacharsis, sayde that they were no fur­ther from death than the bredth of .iij. or ij. fingers, euen so much as the wood contained in thicknes, in the which they sailed. And if that their life séemeth vnto vs cruell,A praise of husbā ­drie for the better shevving of the mi­series that follovv. what greater swéetenesse thinke we to finde in husbandrie, and in the labor of the rusticall sort, the whiche at the first séemeth vnto vs swéete, luc­ky, peaceable, simple and innocent, also that many Patriarkes and Prophetes, haue chosen this kind of liuing, as that in which there is least guile and deceit, and also that many Romain Emperors haue in times past left their Pallaces, Capitols, Arkes, triumphes, glorious and faire buildings, and Empires, with all the rest of their worldly maiestie, for to remaine in the fields, to til and labor the earth, trées and gardens, as we read of Dioclesian, Attallus, Cirus, Constan­tinus [Page] Cesar, and others, but those that will consider these things more nearer, they will saye that among these Roses, there are a great many thornes. This being true, that God hauing driuen mā out of Paradise, sent him into the earth, as to a place of exile, and said vnto him, the earth shalbe cursed for thy sake, thou shalt eate therof in trauel and paine all the dayes of thy life. For she shall bring forth thornes, wéedes, and thistels, and thou shalt eate the hearbes of the field, in the sweate of thy face shalt thou eate thy bread till thou be turned againe to earth, out of the which thou wast taken. But alas who hath more experimented or tasted this which God hath spoken, than the poore labourers or husband­men, who manye times after that they haue labored, sowed, & tilled the ground, trauelled all the daye long, endured ex­treme heate of the sunne, the rigor of the colde, sometimes bitings or stin­gings of venemous serpentes or wor­mes, sweated bloude and water, all the [Page] yeare long, for to dresse the earth theyr nurse, hoping to gather the fruites, and sodenly behold a haile, a frost, a tempest, a thunder or lightning, that will soden­ly defraud thē of all their hope. To one, his shéepe and Oxen die: to another, whilst that he is labouring in the fields, the men of war and souldiers come and rauish that which he hath, in such sorte that when he returneth to his house, in steade of receiuing consolation and fin­ding rest, his wife bewaileth, his chil­dren crieth out, al his familie lamenteth and crieth out for hunger, to be short, it is no other thing than a griefe and a wounde, hauing a continuall cause of dolor, which sodenly complaineth of one thing, incontinently of another, now of the rain,Plato. then of y^e great drith, also of the winds and tempests, but aboue all, the men of war, with a company of other griefs, figured in forme of a complaint by a (Da pacem) the which a friende o [...] mine made me this other day: the tennor wherof hereafter followeth.

Leaue we these poore husbandmen with their miseries and trauels,Miserie of merchan­tes, vvith a plaine discourse of their fraudes & deceites. and pe­nitrate more forward. Let vs see what is done in the trade of merchandise, if we doe consider it externely or outwardly, it séemeth voyde from miseries, and a promise of rest, for the richesse in whiche it aboundeth, also for that Plinie sayth, it was inuented for the necessitie of life, [Page] and that many wise men, as one Tha­lus, one Solon, & Hippocratus haue ex­ercised it, & also that it is an occasion to kéepe Princes in peace and vnity, trans­porting from one citie to another, that which aboundeth in the one, and lacketh in the other, but we cannot so wel cloke it, but that y^e eye may wel sée, how much the life of Merchaunts is vnquiet, and to how many daungers they are subiect continually as well by lande as by sea, without putting in accompt, that for the most part of their time they are as Fu­gitiues and Vagabondes from their townes and countries, and they séeme litle to differ from banished, sauing that their banishment is willingly, for that they flie, runne aud burne by sea and by land, by fiers and flames, for a couetous heate of an vnmeasurable gaine, and they are contented to be depriued of rest & ease that they ought to receiue of their owne wines and children, lands, & pos­sessions, & to be at al times in hazard of their liues by a thousande meanes and [Page] ways, that are for them prepared of Pi­rats and others, and al for an vnsatiable auarice, that doth daily torment them, not forgetting how they do periure thē ­selues, beguile and deceiue their neigh­bor, in such sort, that with great payne any vsing y^e trade can be made rich, but by beguiling of others,Corrup­tion of the estate of Mer­chants. & haue in their common prouerb, ȳ they néede but turn their back a while to God, and enlarge a little the entrie of their conscience, for to be riche, and surmount fortune, to the which we maye adde many other euils and maledictions, that depende theron, when that they bring vnprofitable mer­chādise out of straunge coūtries, which are not necessarie for our humaine life, but only to entertaine women and chil­dren in pride, pomp, and vaine glory, as thoughe oure nature were not inough subiect to wantonnesse and delicatenesse of it self, without pricking or prouoking it any more, & in the meane tyme there is no Realme nor Prouince, but that they begger of monye with their newe [Page] knacks, and that worse is, hauing lear­ned the maners and orders of straunge countries, they vse it in the sale of their merchandise, and therwith deceiue and beguile vs. They make their assemblies, counsels and assises, and haue Burses, wheras the Merchants and Brokers sel vnto the Retailers, y^t which is naught, and the Retailers vtter it to vs, & there­with beguile and deceyue vs. Also some­times the daunger is greate, for vnder the colour of their trade and trafficke, they haue intelligence wyth straunge and forren Princes, and vtter to them our secrets, lend them monie, and in the ende they betraye and sell their natiue countrie and commō weales, the which we in Fraunce haue knowē and tasted, within these few yeares, to the losse and detriment of manye people. I leaue to speake of a thousande other fraudes and deceytes, when that they mingle and chaunge their drugs, on the which ma­ny times the life of men doeth depende. Notwithstanding, such is the order of [Page] their science, and also they instruct their seruāts & factors, in their youth to do the like, and those that haue the most subtil­lest & sharpest wit, they encrease their wages, to those specially, y^t can best for­sweare thēselues, tell a faire tale with their tongue, or counterfet y^• Genoway, the Italian, the Florentine, or y^e Vene­tian, and things are brought into so pi­tifull estate, that one dare not go out of a shop, after that he hath offred a certain price, but when he retourneth, inconti­nently he shall find the ware chaunged, by these yong théeues which haue no cō ­science but gage their soule to the di­uel, for to enrich their maisters. There is yet another kinde of Merchantes, of whome as yet we haue not spoken of, the whych decke their shops with other mens goods, and vnder the colour to make some great trade of merchandise, borowe here of one, & there of another, beguiling their creditors, & after that by such meanes they haue gotten and rob­bed frō other men a great sum or value, [Page] then become they bankroutes, and get thē to some other land or country, wher­as they liue at their ease, of that whiche they haue gotten by fraude and disceite of others, so that sometimes they leaue their creditors in suche pouertie, that there hath bene some that haue hanged themselues with their owne handes, se­ing themselues frustrate of that whiche they thought to haue bene as sure of, as if it had ben in their purses. The which things being déepelye considered by the Athenians, woulde not permit nor suf­fer that Merchants should dwell among other Citizens, but ordeyned them cer­taine places, separated from the Cities, whereas they did vse and occupye theyr trade. Also there hath bene many aunci­ent common weales, wheras Merchan­tes haue not bene elected into dignities and offices, nor admitted into the coun­sell of the Citizens, and other members of the Citie, as in like case the Ecclesia­stical fathers haue oftentimes condem­ned them in manye places of their wri­tings, [Page] as S. Iohn Chrisostome, and S. Augustine that say that it is hard for thē to please God, or to be penitent for their sinnes.

Let vs consider a little the tragicall life and seruitude of those that frequent the warres,The mi­serie of men of vvar. the whiche is so cruell and straunge, that brute beastes doe abhorre it, for they rest the night time in their caues and dennes made in the earth, but the souldiers waketh for the most part, and endureth rayne, hayle, snowe, hun­ger, colde and heate, and when that he heareth the sorowfull signe of battell,I haue treated of this more at large in a treatise the last yeare, of peace and vvar. he must prepare him selfe either suddenlye death, or els to kill & murther his neigh­bour, so that for a Monethes wages, he maketh his body a fence or bulwarke a­gainst the shot of a gunne, in such sorte that among all the miseries in the world there is none equall or like to the souldi­ers. But wilt thou knowe how pitifull the spectacle of the war is? haste thou at any time séene the conflict of the Liō and of the Beare, or of anye other furious [Page] beasts together? What a crueltie it is to sée them rent and teare one another, but how much more abhominable is it to sée man against mā, furious and woode, ra­ging like a brute beaste, for to exercise his rage against his neighbour, without put in account an infinite number of harmes that hang theron, it is the poore people that hathe edefied and builded so many faire Cities, it is they that haue ministred vnto them by the sweate of their labor, and by their diligence hath enriched, fortified and maintained thē. But behold, euen in their presence they are spoyled and ouerthrowne, their cat­tell taken away, their corne cut downe out of time, the poore labourers killed & murthered, townes and villages bur­ned, all is in feare and continuall tor­ment, there is no houshold, but wéepeth and lamenteth, their husbandrie decays and waxeth colde, the poore people that are disherited are constrayned to fast and to die for hunger, or els haue theyr refuge to Artes vnlawful, and defended [Page] for to sustaine their poore life, virgins are defloured, the chast matrons remain barren in their houses, good lawes de­cay, humanity is defaced, equitie is sup­pressed, the Region is left waste, holye places are prophaned, the poore old men remaine captiues, and oftentimes they sée their childrē slaine before their faces, there is found an infinit number of wi­dowes, as manye orphelins: Kings, Princes and Monarchs are enuied for the great subsidies and taxes, that they leuell on their subiectes, nothing but murmurings and hatreds, the straun­ger must be entertained to get hys good will & fauor, there muste be made great dispensations, for those that prepare thē selues to the warre, be it by sea or by land, bulwarkes must be fortified, ram­piers made, dressing of tents, halling to the camp, gunnes, armor, and charets, filling of diches, keping of watche and warde, with other like exercises of war. Alas was it not inough, that nature had created man so miserable and abiect, and [Page] subiect to so manye euils, but that she must adde vnto him the warre,The har­mes that come by vvarre. which of it selfe is an euill so straunge and per­nicious, that it comprehendeth in it self, and surmounteth all other kinde of e­uils, and also of it selfe is so pestilent and contagious, that it afflicteth not on­ly the wicked, but also, yea and most of all, the poore and innocent? But if that our rage and crueltie were extended v­pon the Heathen, and those that knowe not God, then might the victory be a cō ­tentation to the victor. But good God, shall we shewe wherein the glories and triumphes of warres among Christian Princes doth consist? Their health and conseruation is the decay and ruine of their neighbor: their richesse is the spoy­lings of the poore and others, their ioys is the mournings and bewaylings of o­thers, and yet many times their victorie can not be so happie, but that bothe the vanquisher and the ouercommed, maye wepe and lamente. For there was ne­uer battell so luckie, but that the van­quisher [Page] at the last doth repent, if he be touched with any sparke of humanitie. The whiche the Heathen haue acknow­ledged and confessed by their owne pro­per witnessing, as also the great Empe­ror Marcus Aurelius, the which after manye glorious victories obtained a­gainst his enimies, as he receyued hys triumphe at Rome, féeling in his hearte the worng that he had don to his neigh­bor, began to crie out when that he was conducted to his chaire of triumph, say­ing: what more greater follie or vanity may an Emperor of Rome haue, for bi­cause he hath conquered many townes, stirred those that were at rest, destroyed Cities, rased strong houlds, robbed the poore, enriched tyrants, made an infinite number of orphelines & widowes, and in recompence of al these harmes, he is receyued with triumphe and magnifi­cence, many are deade, and manye haue trauelled and taken paines, but one a­lone beareth the glorie. Then he addeth these wordes: by the immortall Gods, [Page] when I was brought to Rome in such a triumph, and saw the poore captiues in yron bandes and chaines, I powred out the widdowes lamentations, I sawe an infinite number of treasure ill gotten, then I remembred them deade, I reioy­ced outwardlye, but inwardlye I wept teares of bloud, & began to crie againste Rome after this sort, come hither Rome why reioycest thou at the wrongs of o­thers? art thou of more antiquitie than Babilon, more fairer than Helena, more richer thā Carthage, more stronger thā Troie, better peopled than Thebes, bet­ter compassed with ships than Corinth, more delicious than Tyre, more happier than Numantia, The chri­stian phi­losophie of a hea­then. all the whiche are peri­shed, clad with so many vertues, and ke­pers of so many vertuous, yet thou ho­pest to remaine for euer, stuffed vp with so manye vices, and people so vilde and vicious.A notable discourse. Beleue one thing of a suretie, that the glorie that is at this howre of thee, hath first bene of those, and the de­struction that hath come vpon them shal [Page] likewise come vpon thée. O what philo­sophie, what holinesse, what oracles, and what prophecie is founde in a Hea­then man, which had no knowledge of the Euangelicall light? May not we be ashamed that haue bene nourished at a better schole, and illuminated with the grace of the holy ghost, that this Pagan shall rise at the daye of iudgement, and condemne vs, that make such hauock of humaine bloud? séeing that the war hath alredy for many yeres past disquieted y^e Christiā weale, so that with great pain can be found at this day, any Region in Europe, but that is staind with humain bloud, neither sea nor riuer, but y^• hath bene chaūged red.The cru­eltie of souldiers. Gauden­tius Me­ruleus murthe­red in the Churche. Helericus King of the Gothes, hauing in time paste destroyed Rome (as Paulus Oroseus sheweth, that flourished in his time) caused to be pro­claimed with the sounde of a trumpet, that they shoulde not molest nor hurre those that were fled into the temple of S. Peter and S. Paule. But things are come to suche desolation in oure age, [Page] that there is no sanctuarie nor sauegard in temples nor holie places, but y^• poore maidēs and wiues haue bene violated, and the poore shepe of Iesus Christ haue bene staine and murthered, so mad are men without sparing aged kind or dig­nitie, but they sacrifice all, so that it see­meth that they will fight to ouerthrowe nature it selfe, so that in the ende it wil come to passe (if that God prouide not remedie) that the publicke weales shall be peopled with wild beastes or trées, for by littel and littel the world waxeth de­sert. But what is the cause that we are so prompt and enclined to loose and de­cay those, for the preseruation of which, our sauiour Christ was willing to die: but why are we so desirous of their life and bloud,A com­parison of the vvarre of men, and the vvar of beastes. seing Iesus Christ hath shed his for to preserue and saue vs all. But at the least, why haue not we so muche compassion one of another, as the brute beastes haue, the which shew not theyr rage and crueltie one against another, or if by fortune they fight sometimes, [Page] it is when that they are oppressed with hunger, or for the defence of their yong ones, and yet they help themselues with those armours that nature hath appoin­ted them, without adding to them other kind of weapons inuented by the diuel, for there is no earthly things, but that may be ouercome with y^e force of gūnes, so that weying well this inuention, it is not only more daungerous, than all the cutting weapons of the worlde, but also it is more pernicious and pestilent, than anye other venim or poyson, yea worse than the thundrings and light­nings that come from the aire, y^e which for that it is composed of foure straūge elementaries, being in the moste parte of his greatest drith, casting the fier in the middest of the smoke, multiplieth of the aire and of the fier, and mingleth with the moysture, in such sort that the nature of euerye element fighting with the other, conuerteth in humor and in great thundering, bicause that the heate with the moisture cannot agrée, nor en­dure [Page] together, but straineth to come forth, the aire addresseth to the aire, and the fier draweth of his nature trauel­ling to moūt hie, being an action supe­rior, and exceding in power all the rest, the which he turneth into his nature before comming out, by the which mea­nes groweth such a hurling noyse, that it is necessarie that the thing wherein this poulder is, be put in pieces, or that the most weakest, giue place to the strō ­gest. And then of al this stuffe, commeth Canons, double Canons, Serpentines, Culuerines, Sakers, Faucons, Fau­connets, and suche like. In the naming whereof, the cunning maisters haue greatly failed, in imposing to them the names of birdes, the which serue to giue and shewe vs melodie and pleasure, they shoulde rather appropriate to them the names of the infernall diuelles, for as those engins serue to rent and dismem­ber the bodies of men, so in like case doe the diuelles beate and pame the soules in hell.

[Page] We haue here shewed what is done in the wars, & the recompence of those that frequent it. Now let vs see what is done in the pallaces of Princes, & what is y^e felicitie of y^e Courtiers, which make a shewe of their delicatenesse: séemeth there any greater felicitie in the world, than to haue the Princes fauor at al ti­mes, to be cherished, to distribute large­ly to others, to take the best spoyles, to vse courtly maners, embracings, kissin­ges, cōueyings, and other offices of hu­manitie, with an infinite number of such kinde of dregs? There are of thys sort crafty and wilie, that do as the fisher man, who assone as he hath anye thing in his net, draweth it vp, and so goeth a­way withall: othersome there are that play all out: and others that remayne vntill they are as full as spunges, and in the ende they are made to restore all: others also that doe nothing but inuent subsidies, and séeke meanes to inlarge or multiplie the treasures of kings, and so become riche, with spoyling of the [Page] poore people. And Princes do by thē ma­ny times as we do by our hogs: we let them fatten, to the ende to eate and de­uour them afterwarde, so are they suffe­red many times to enriche themselues, for to be despoyled after when that they are so fat, and one that is new come shal manytimes be preferred in their places, here you may sée how y^t these poore cour­tiers sel their liberty for to become rich: they must obey al commaundements be they iust or vniust: they must frame thē selues to laugh whē y^e Prince laugheth, to wéepe whē he wéepeth, approue y^• whi­che he approueth, & cōdemne that which he condemneth: they must obey to al, al­ter and chaunge wholy his nature, to be seuere with those that are seuere, sorow­full with those that are sorowfull, and in a maner transforme themselues into the nature of him whō they will please, or els to get nothing. If the Prince be impudent, they must be the like, if he be cruell, they must delight in bloudshed. To be shorte, they must frame themsel­ues [Page] to all ordinances and maners of the Prince, or whom they will please, and yet many times one little offence stay­neth all the seruice that one hath done in his life time. The which those that as­sisted y^• Emperor Adrian did féele, who when they were elected by him into hie estates and dignities, by the reporte of diuers flatterers, they had not only ta­ken from them that which before he had giuen them, but also they were declared to be his chiefe enimies. The which Pla­to liuelye considering, and foreséeing in the Court of the Atheniensis, did prōpt­ly quit their deliciousnesse, and yet he coulde not so well take heede to himselfe but that he returned to Dennis a tyrant of Sicilie, who in the ende solde him to Pirats of the sea. But what happened to Xenon that olde, sage, & graue Phi­losopher, whom Phalaris in satisfaction of his seruice, caused most cruelly to be put to death, as also did the King of Cy­prus Anacreō to the noble philosopher Anaxagoras: and Nero his tutor Seneca, [Page] & Alexāder, Calistenus, for that he wo [...] not worship him, caused his féete to be cut of, his eares & his hāds, also his eyes to be put out, and so left in the mercie of a straight prison or dungeon, where­in he finished most miserably his dayes. Such hath bene many times the ende of a great number of learned men, who bi­cause they woulde not obey to the fear­full affections of Monarchs, loste their liues,Execrable vices of the Court in recompence of their good ser­uice, and wholesome counsels: without putting in account the vices that fre­quent those that followe the Courte, whereas the most part of humain thin­ges are abolished. Many in y^e Court put of their cappes to thée, that woulde be glad to sée thy head from thy shoulders, such bow their knée to do thee reuerence, which would that they had broken their leg to cary thée to thy graue. Many haue the name of Lord that meriteth y^e name of a hangman, there is alwayes I know not what, nor how, or one, I vnderstand not who is the cause,) that incessantlye [Page] one complayneth, altereth, or els despi­seth. In the Courte if thou wilt be an a­dulterer, thou shalt finde of thy compli­ces, if thou wilt quarrell, thou shalt find to whom, if thou wilt lie, thou shalt find those that will approue thy lies, if thou wilt steale, thou shalte finde them that will shewe thée a thousand wayes howe, if thou wilte be a carder or a dicer, thou shalt finde them that will cog and playe with thée, if thou wilt sweare and beare false witnesse, thou shalte finde there thy like: to be shorte, if thou wylte giue thy selfe to all kynde of wyckednesse and vices, thou shalt find there the very exāple giuers. Here may you sée the life of my maisters the Courtiers, which is no life, but a continuall death. Here you may sée wherin their youth is emploied, whiche is not youth, but a transitorie death. Whē y^• they come to age, knowest thou what they bring from thēce? their gray heades, their legges full of gouts, their mouth hauing a naughtie smell, their backe ful of paine, their hearts ful [Page] of sorow and thought, and their soule filled with sin: to be short, in the Court there is very little to write, but muche to murmure at, of the which things, yf thou desier a more ample knowledge, reade the worke that Dom Anthonie Guenera, bishop of Mondouent, and the Crowner of the Emperor: and Eneas Siluius, otherwise called Pope Pius, which haue compassed twoo most excel­lent and perticular treatises of thys matter, wherein they haue painted my maisters the Courtiers so in their cou­lors, that they haue stayed the hope of adding to those, that will discouer after them. Let vs leaue speaking of y^e Cour­tiers with their life so vnquiet and mi­serable, and let vs contemplate a little the estate of Kings, Princes, Monarchs and Emperors, for whome onely it sée­meth that felicitie is created, for if we consider all that maye render the life of man in tranquility, happy and content, we shall finde that fortune among all o­ther mortall creatures, hathe prouided [Page] for them prodigally. What maketh mā more wonderfull in this worlde, but goods, richesse, dignities, Empire, licēce to do good or euill without correction, powre to exercise liberalitie, all kind of volupteousnesse aswell of the spirite as of the bodie. All that may be wished for, for the contentation of man, be it in ap­parell, in meates or drinkes,Princes seeme to be voyde of mise­ries. varietie in meates, in magnificence, in seruices, in vestures, that which maye tickle the memorie, and flatter the concupiscence of the fleshe, is prepared for them, euen from their cradell, for to conduct y^e estate of their life in more happe and felicitie. The discourse of which if we wil consi­der outwardlye, there is not one but will confesse that they alone triumph o­ner that, that others languish in. But if that we will consider things more nea­rer, and examine and waye them in a true ballance, we shall find that the selfe same things, that we thinke degrées for to attaine to felicitie, and to cause them to be happie, are the verie instruments [Page] of vice, that cause them to haue more greater sorowes, & that doth render thē most vnfortunate: but wherfore serueth their costlye ornaments and honorable seruices, or delicate meates? when that they are in continuall feare to be poyso­ned, seduced and beguiled by their ser­uitors, haue not we had the experience therof in our time? doeth not Platina write of a certaine Pope that was poy­soned by the siege, with a paper that his seruant did present him? others with the smoke of torches and flames. But thys thing is most to be maruelled at, yea, and most horrible to heare,A cruell and an abhomi­nable act. that the hu­maine malice shoulde be so greate, that there hath ben some that haue mingled poyson with the water or singing cake, and by this meanes hath caused to die Henrie, the seuenth Emperor, as I haue red in Fluschius, in his first composition of medcinable things. We maye reade in Histories, that certaine Emperors durst not lie downe to rest in the night, before y^• they had caused their beds to be [Page] visited and lien on, and all the places of their chambers to be searched, for feare that they had to be murthred or strang­led in their sléepe, others woulde not permit Barbers nor Chirurgions to touch their face, for feare that in trim­ming of their head or bearde, they wold take from them their life. And yet at this present daye they are in such feare, that they dare not put their meate into their mouthes, before that one haue ta­sted therof. Were it not better (said Iu­lius Cesar) to die once, than to liue al­ways in such feare and dread? But what felicity can a king or a prince haue, that hath vnder his gouernement so manye thousands of men, he must watch for al, heare the plaintes and cries of euerie one,The true office of a Prince. procure euery mans safegard, pro­uoke some by liberall giftes to do well, the others by terror and feare, he muste be no lesse circumspect to nourish peace among his people, than to defende hys Realme, against the inuasion of the straunger: without putting in count [Page] many other calamities that are vnder the scepter. They commaunde all, and and manye times one or two doeth go­uerne them. Pege the Florentine hathe made a perticular discourse of the infe­licitie of Princes, he meaneth of y^• wic­ked, where he sayth, that for the moste part, thrée kindes of people are to them most agreable and familiar: flatterers kepe the first ranck, which are the chief enimies of veritie, and that empoison their soules with a poyson so pestife­rous and daungerous, that it is cōtagi­ous to all y^e world: their follie and teme­ritie, they call it prudencie, their cruelty is iustice,Thre pla­ges, from the which a Prince ought to bevvare of. their luxurious life, desoluti­ons and fornications, are pleasures and pastimes, they are couetous, which they they call good husbandrie, if they be pro­digall, they call it liberall, in such sorte that there is no vice in a Prince, but that they cloke it & hide it vnder y^e pro­texetie of some vertue. The seconde sort are these, inuentors of newe subsidies: they reste no night but that in the Mor­ning [Page] they bring some inuention or new practise to the Prince, to drawe monye from the poore people: they cause newe statutes to be erected: they break, forme, reforme, diminishe and adde: they de­maund confiscations and proscriptiōs, in such sorte that all their studie is to make themselues rich on the calamities and miseries of the poore people. There is yet another sort, that vnder the sha­dowe of honestie counterfeiting good men, haue alwayes the eye on other mens liuings, and make the office of reformer of vices: they accuse and espie out other mens liues: they inuent wic­ked and false deuises, yea, and not con­tent to get other mens goods, but also séeke their death,The El­ders made most dreadfull prayers for vvic­ked Prin­ces. and by their meanes they cause manye a one to be put to death, whose life before God are inno­cent. For this cause it is that the Elders (as Herodianus writeth) if their Kinges or Princes had behaued them selues wickedlye in the administration of the publicke affaire, they condemned them [Page] for diuels after their death, and assem­bled in the temples with the Priestes, praying openlye to the Gods, not to re­ceiue them, but recommended them to the infernall powers, to the ende that they might be grieuouslye tormented. The which hath not bene onely obser­ued of the Elders before vs, but also of certaine in our time, as witnesseth An­thonius Geuara, Crowner to the Empe­ror, in a certaine Epistle wherein he sayeth that to the Viceroy of Sicilia, for vengeance of the tyrannies that he had exercised against his subiectes, after hys death, they made this Epitaphe on hys tombe that followeth.

Qui propter nos homines, & propter nostram salutem descendit ad inferos.

Here you may sée the miseries wherin Princes are subiect. Here are the thorns that they receiue in recompence of their brightnesse and royall dignitie, whiche ought to be like a Lampe, that giueth light to all the world. But when that it is darkened with any vice, it is more re­prochable [Page] than in any other priuate per­son. For they alone sinne not (as Plato writeth) by the fault that they commit, but by the euill example that they giue: if it be hard to be good (as Hesiodeus wri­teth) yet with more greater difficultieKings de­praued by delici­ousnesse. can Kings and Princes be, for the abū ­dance of honors and deliciousnesse the which they sée that they enioye, serueth them as a bayte to enduce them to euil, and they are the verie lanternes of vi­ces. What was Saul before that he was made King? his goodnesse is shewed in holy scripture, whō God only did elect, but neuerthelesse he made a sodaine E­clipse or chaunging. Howe wonderfull was the beginning of the raign of king Salomon, the which being plunged in royal delices, gaue himself incontinent­ly a praye to women. Of .xxij. Kings of Iuda, there is founde but fiue or six that haue continued in their vertue & boun­tie. As touching the Kings of Israel, if thou wilt cōsider their liues from Iero­boam the sonne of Nabath, euen to the [Page] last, which were in nūber .xix. they haue all in general, yll gouerned the affaires of the kingdome. If thou do consider the estate of the Assirians, Persians, Gre­cians, and Egyptians, thou shalt finde more wicked than good. Let vs consider what the Romane Emperors were, which haue bene estéemed the most flou­rishing common welth in the worlde, thou shalt find them so ouercomed with vices and all kinde of cruelties, that I doe almoste adhorre to read in Histories their liuings so corrupt & defiled. What was the estate of their common wealth before that Silla & Marius did chaunge it, before that Catallina and Catulla did perturbe it, before that Iulius Cesar and Pompeius did slaunder it, before that Augustus and Marcus Antonius did de­stroy it,Marcus Aurelius. before that Tiberius and Cali­gula did defame it, before that Domitiā and Nero did depraue it. For althoughe that they had made it riche with manye kingdomes and Lordships, notwithstā ­ding the vices that they brought with [Page] them, are more greater than the king­domes that they haue gained, for the goods and richesse are lost, but the vices remaine vnto this daye. But what me­mory remaineth now of Romulus that founded it, of Neuma Pompillius that e­rected the Capitol so hie, of Ancus Mar­tius that compassed it with walles, of Brutius that deliuered it from tyrants, of Camillius that draue out the French men. Did not they shew by their doings what felicitie is in the principall, the which is more subiect to the assaults of fortune, than any other earthly things, for manye times the threde of life brea­keth whē that they thinke least of death, an [...] then the infamie of those that are wicked, is written in histories for a per­petual memory therof. The which thing Kings, Princes, Emperors, and others constituted in dignities, ought more to feare a thousande folde, than the toung that speaketh euill, the whiche can but shame the liuing, but bookes slaunder & defame the deade. All the which things [Page] being liuely considered by Dioclesian, and manye other Emperors, they for­sooke their Scepters and Empires, and withdrew them into the fieldes, louing much better to remaine the rest of their life in some desert place, and to be con­tent with a little, that to enioy the croo­ked honors of this world.

Let vs leaue speaking of Kings, and come we to the Ecclesiastical sort,The mi­serie of Popes. begin we with the heades, whiche are Popes, and Pontificals, are not they happie and fortunate in this worlde? their dig­nitie is the most greatest, and supreme of al other. It is obtained without paine and labor, without warre or effusion of bloud, it is kept without perill, they cō ­maund all, Emperors and Kings do thē reuerence and honor, they are riche, and of great power, and all giuen to honors and dignities, although those that they represent, were the true example giuers of pouertie. But if thou do well consider the ende of the Tragedie, thou wilt not count them happy, but abhorre their do­ings, [Page] and also complaine and bewayle their state,Pope Flo­rentine in his bookes of the in­felicitie of Princes. for if they will follow y^e steps of S. Peter aright, according to Gods commaundements, they must be as one that will giue his life for the preserua­tion of his neighbour, they alone should wake, when that other slepe, they should watch for all the world, they should haue no rest, but all the minutes of their life shoulde be bestowed for the health of the publicke weale, for feare that Sathan seduct not their flocke. For if it be so, as S. Iohn Chrisostome writeth vpon the Epistle to the Hebrewes, that he that is the rector or gouernor of one onlye Churche or congregation, maye with great difficultie be saued, so great is his charge. In what perill then are the Po­pes, that are gardes, tutors, protectors and heades of all Christian Churches. The which things the Pope Adrian, a man learned and of a good life, hauing many times waied and considered, was accustomed to saye with teares to his most priuiest friendes, that among all [Page] the estates of the worlde, there was none that séemed to hym more mi­serable, and more perillous of condi­tion, than the estate of Popes and Pontificalles. For although the throne and seidge wherein he did sit, was richly decked with diuers pompes, yet was it filled with many sharp thornes, and the precious cloke with y^• whiche they were couered,A notable sentence of Pope Adrian on the miserie of Popes. was full of sharpe pointed ne­dels, and so heauie to beare, that his shoulders therewith was pained, and as for the Miter that couered their heads, it is a very flame that burned euen frō the bottome of the soule: and if we will cōsider the notable Philosophie of Pope Adrian, on the Popish ornamentes, we shall finde it not vnprofitable: for al­though many haue gaped for that dig­nitie, yet if ye reade Platina and others that haue written their liues, you shall finde them so wicked, that ye will saye that there are manye Wolues among these pastors. In consideration thereof S. Bernard lamenteth the condition of [Page] Pope Eugenius, when that Rome was lesse depraued than it is at this day: but what iust occasion shoulde he haue to complain, if he had sene the disorder and confusion that hath raigned since hys time. Well let vs leaue the heades, and come to the mēbers, and séeke the mat­ter more further,The mise­rie of the Ecclesia­stical estate. for that they are sicke with the same disease that others are. Let vs consider what were the Heathen Priestes and the Gentiles, and conferre them with ours, to the ende that those that are illuminated with the Euange­licall light, that haue bene instructed at a better schole, blushe for shame, and learne of them to reforme their life. It is of a truth, that the Priests of the Hea­then and Gentiles, were chosen among the others,Clictho­reus. of a more singular doctrine and manners lesse depraued, as the Priests of Egypt,The estate of the hea­then Priestes. which being nouri­shed of the publicke, had no other science nor occupation, after that they had fini­shed their ceremonies, but to philosophie and contemplate diligent lye the secrets [Page] and miracles of nature. And of such ho­nest occupations came so great profite, that they were (as Aristotel writeth) in­uentors of Mathematickes, and their lifes were so well ruled, and their disci­pline had in so great admiration, that Ligurges, Pythagoras, Plato, Democri­tes, and the most part of the renoumed Philosophers of Gréece did forsake their countries and Prouinces to become dis­ciples to the Priests of Egypt. The Ba­biloniās haue vsed the like in y^e choosing of their priests, which they called Chal­deys, who as writeth Deodorus the Si­ciliā, after that they had said their prai­ers and deuine seruice, ceased not al the rest of their life to philosophie, and con­template the secretes of the firmament, in such sorte, that we are detter to them for many secrets of Astrologie,A compa­rison of heathen Priestes vvith ours. the whi­che by their labor and diligence haue bene discouered. The Persians in like case to their Priests, that haue bene cal­led Mages, which is as muche to saye as sage and wise, who aswell for their ex­cellencie [Page] of learning, as their solitarie life, they haue so reuerenced, that in their moste vrgent affaires, they made their refuge to them as to their Gods. The Indians in like maner to their Priests, whō they call Gymnosophistes, being so prompt in doctrine, and so wel ruled in good maners, that they alone aboue other men by their eloquence cō ­futed the greate tyrant Alexander, which was minded to spoyle and waste their countrie, but he was so wel appea­sed, after y^e he had heard them (as Plutar­chus writeth, that he did not only leaue them without harme, but hauing their prudencie in admiration, left them in liberties and fredomes, and honoured them with an infinite number of trea­sures and magnificall presents. Also the auncient Gaules or Frenchmen, the which at that time had no knowledge of the Gospell, had (as writeth Cesar in his Commentaries) their Priestes, whome they called Druids, who were so straight of liuing, and of so great doctrine in so [Page] great admiration, that they wondred at them, as if they had bene Gods: who after that they had bestowed a certayne time in their ceremonies and sacrifices, instructed youth, disputed of the immor­talitie of the soule, of the mouings of the firmament, of the greatnesse of y^e world, and of the nature of things, and so lead the estate of their life in vertuous occu­pations and works, not letting one mi­nute of the time to slip without bearing some profite to the commō weale. Here is the state, here is the life, here is the maners and occupatiōs of Priests that had no knowledge of God, without law, without faith, without hope of a second life, and without feare of Gods punish­mentes. Let vs conferre the doctrine of the most part of our Priests, their lyfe, maners and conuersation, and we shall finde that these one day shal rise against them, euen at the daye of iudgement, and shalbe the accusers of their wicked life: it is vnto the wicked to whome I speake, it is vnto the vices, and not vnto [Page] the persons. I know well that there are a great number of good and learned pa­stors in manye Christian Regions and Prouinces, which are vigilant and care­full for the flocke, to whome they preach most worthily the word of God. I know also that there are many excellent Doc­tors in this uniuersitie, and in other places, by whose good erudition and doc­trine all Europe is at this daye illumi­nated. But to the contrarie, how many Priestes are there in the world, that are drowned in suche ignorance, that wyth great paine they can saye a Masse, but must mumble it betwéene their téeth, for feare that their faults be discouered, so dull are they, without knowledge and vnderstāding of the dignitie, powre and strength of the sacraments which they minister. There are manye pastors at this day that haue better skil in Court­ly facions, or els in some other vanitie, than in desoluing the doubtes of Pre­destination, of liberall arbitrement, and others that are founde in the holy scrip­ture. [Page] They are those of whom crieth the Prophet Ezechiel that they serue for no thing but to féede thēselues,Ezechiel Cap. 3. Micheas Cap. 34. Esa. ca. 56. & in stead of feding their flock, they take y^• flece, draw the milke, kil y^e fattest, eat the flesh, break the bones, they are dumb dogs, blind & a sléepe, that know nothing, dare not bark, but are very curious to haue horskepers for their Palfreys, Fauconers for theyr Haukes, Cookes for their paunches, and they feare not to ordeyne and appointe pastors for y^e poore flock of Iesus Christ, they which will one daye cause them to render a count for the poore shéepe that are perished by their default, the which will be required at their handes: to be short, they are the very bloud suckers, that serue for nothing els, but to draw the bloud and substāce from poore sheepe, and bestowe the goods of the Church in delicious pomps and excesse, in stede of maintaining the poore and intertaining youth in liberall Arts, and other deuine and humaine disciplines. But oure God which is iuste in his iudgementes, will [Page] cause them one daye to giue a count of his goods so yll bestowed. For this is of a suretie, that there are pastors that haue this twentye yeares receyued the fruites of their benefices, that haue not thrée times visited their flocke, but they commit them to poore ignorant Chap­lens, and many times to those that will serue best cheape, who as they serue God by credit, and by procurement, if that the Lorde God haue not pitie of them, they shalbe damned for euer. The which being considered by the good DoctorS. Bernard sermon. 33 of cāticles S. Bernard, toward the ende of the .33. sermon of Canticles, is very sore offēded with them, complaining of their pompes and superduities, whereas he painteth them out in their liuelye cou­lors, as followeth: there is (sayeth he) a spot and plague corrupted, that raig­neth in the whole body of the Churche, the Ministers of Iesus Christ serue An­tichrist, they stande and goe in great ho­nor and pomp with y^e Lords benefits, & neuerthelesse, they giue no honor to his [Page] name, and it is the ornament of a har­lot, whom thou séest daily procede from thence, so is the golde that they carie, their saddels, bridels and spurres, the ornament of their féete is more super­bious and full of pomp than the temple of God: their spurres are better gilded than their altars, from thence procede their sumpteous table so wel garnished with delicate meats, their goodly gilded cups and goblets, from thence procede their gredinesse & drunkennes, frō thēce their Musticall harmonie, theyr Harps, Lutes, uirginalles, Regals and suche like, the delicate wine that the pre [...]ors powre out, and the monie that they haue in their purses, commeth from thence, (then he cōcludeth) and for to enioy and cloke this their deliciousnesse,S. Bernar­des words against the Eccle­siasticals at the coū sel of Rei­mes. they or­deine Prelates of Churches, Deacons, Archdeacons, Bishops, Archbishoppes: moreouer being kindled with a merue­lous zeale in the sermon that he made at the Synode of Pastors, he doeth not dallie with thē, but crieth out with open [Page] voyce, it is not the waye to decke the spouse of Iesus Christ, but to spoile hir, it is not to kepe hir, but to loose hir, it is not to defend hir, but to let hir be a pray, it is not to institute, but to prostitute, it is not to instruct, but to prophane hir, it is not féeding of the flocke of Christe, but spoyling and de [...]uring of them. These are the remonstrances and ex­hortations that this holy man made to the Prelates and other members of the Church, whē that it was lesse corrupted thā it is at this present. But what wold S. Peter and S. Iohn say, that had not one pennie to giue to the poore lame mā that sat begging at the temple gate, if they should sée these Pontificall Courti­ers, that vaunt to be their successors (but not followers) treading on silke, with their perfumes, embaumentes, mounted like S. George, lodged in the suberbious and magnificall pallaces of Kings, but y^e others were manie times lodged in Charters and prisons of ty­rants, but the Lorde God will one daye [Page] come with a whip, and whip these Mer­chants and choppers of benefices out of his temple.

If we wil curiously séeke out what is done in the Ciuile life,The mise­rie of those that admini­ster iustice. and ministring of the publicke affaires, to howe manye miseries it is subiect, although that it be at this daye a degrée so noble and neces­sarie for our humanitie: we shall finde that it hath his part in the Cake aswell as others, and if that there be anye de­lectation or pleasure, for the honor that hangeth thereon, it is transitorie and vnconstant, and cometh to them as an inflammation that commeth to the hu­maine bodie, knowing that it is necessa­rie that all their actions passe before the eies of the common people, the which al­though they cannot perfectly render the reason of things, yet notwithstanding, they haue a certaine smell and sauor of good and euill, wherefore those that are Iudges are subiect, as in a playe to be hissed at, and chased awaye with shame and cōfusion. For the people being asto­nied. [Page] Plato calleth them a monster with many heads, and mutable, vncertaine, deceitfull, readye to wrath, readye to praise or dispraise without prouidence or discretion, variable in their talke, vn­learned, obstinate, and therefore it be­houeth that y^e life of a Iudge be confor­mable to their will, for as he iudgeth opēly, so shal he be iudged of thē secret­ly, not only in matters of weight & im­portance, but in those of smal consequē ­cie. For alwayes the people will finde some fault, as Plutarchus writeth in his pollicies. The Atheniensies murmured at their Simonidus for y^t he spake too hie: y^e Thebiās accused Paniculus, for that he would spit oftentimes: the Lacedemo­nians noted their Ligurges, for that he went alwayes holding downe of hys head: the Romanes founde a great vice in Scipion, for that in sléeping he snorted too loude: the Vticences defamed the good Cato in his eating: they founde Pompeius vnciuile, for that he woulde scratch with one finger onely: the Car­thagians [Page] blamed Hannibal, for that he was alwayes vnlaced and open before his stomacke: others murmured at Iu­lius Cesar, for that he caried the girdell of euil grace. And yet this is but little in comparison of other good men, that this people or common sort haue persecuted, banished, and in the ende put to death in satisfaction of their good seruices that they had done in the common welth. If that greate Orator Demosthenes were aliue, he could say somewhat, who after that he had bene so iust and faithfull a protector of his common wealth of A­thens, was in the ende vniustlye bani­shed, as though he had committed some notable crime. Socrates was also poyso­ned. Hannibal was so yll treated of his that he was constrained to wander mi­serably in the world. The Romanes did the like to Camilus: the Gréekes to Li­gurges and Solon: the one of them was stoned, and the other hauing y^e eye pul­led out, was banished like a murtherer. Moyses and many other holy men haue [Page] so manye times tasted the furie of the people, that if they were this day liuing they would poure out maruellous com­plaintes against them. And as we haue shewed and set forth the defauts and mi­series that procede of the peoples parte, so must we in like case put into the ba­lance, the errors and corruptions that is found in wicked Iudges, of the which sorte,Against Iudges that are corrupted some (to be short) are corrupted by feare, for the feare that they haue to displease a Prince or a great Lord, they violate iustice, and are as Pilate that cōdemned Christ to death, for feare that he had to displease the Emperor Tibe­rius Cesar: other magistrates are cor­rupted by loue, as was Herod the Te­trarch, who for to please by foolishe loue the Damsell that daunced, condemned to death S. Iohn Baptist, although that he knewe he was iust and innocent. Some are many times corrupted by ha­tred, as was the chiefe Priest, who of malice condemned S. Paul to be smit­ten and stoned, thoughe he deserued it [Page] not. Sometimes the Magistrates are corrupted by golde and siluer, and other giftes and presentes, as were the chil­dren of the Prophete and great Prieste Samuel, and this disease is so contagi­ous, that at this day it is commō among many. They all loue (sayth the Prophet) presents, they all séeke for gifts, they do not right to the orphelin, and the wid­dowes complaint commeth not before them, and in another place, woe be to you that are corrupted by mony, and by prayers, by hatred or loue, and that iud­geth the good to be euill, and the euill to be good, making of light darknesse, and of darkenesse light, woe be to you that haue not respect to the merits of things, but to the merits of men, that regardeth not equitie, but gifts that are giuē, that regardeth not iustice, bnt monye, which regard not that which reason ordeineth, but only to the affection whereas youre desiers doth guide you: you are diligent in riche mens causes, but you defer the cause of the poore, you are to them cruell [Page] and rigorous, but to the riche, louing and tractable. Thē Wisdome following the like matter, sayeth, the poore crieth and no man giueth eare, but one will aske what he is, the riche man speaketh, and all the world pleadeth his cause, and lifteth vp his wordes with admiration euē to y^e skie, yet this is not enough, for when that they are in the degrée of ho­nor, they haue another worme that gnaweth them, they do with their chil­drē as the mother of Zebede saide,Math. 20. Lord graunt that my childrē may sit, the one on thy right hand, the other on thy lefte hand in thy kingdome, after them they aduaunce their children in their digni­ties, being sometimes ignorant and foo­lish. Then the Prophet Ieremie sayth,Ieremie. they are magnified and become riche, they are become fat, they haue lefte the orphelin, and haue not done iustice for the poore, shall not I therefore punishe such things (sayeth the Lorde God) and and my soule take vengeance on suche maner of people? Heare also the sentēce [Page] that sainct Iames pronounceth against them at the day of iudgement:S. Iames Cap. 5. [...]. you haue condemned and killed the iust, you haue liued in wantonnesse in this worlde ta­ken your ease, you haue satisfied youre hearts: now therfore (sayeth the Lorde of hosts) wéepe and howle in your wret­chednesse that shal come vpon you, your garmentes are Moth eaten, your golde and your siluer is cankred, and the ruste therof shalbe a witnesse against you, and you shall eate your fleshe as it were fier, for the complainte of widdowes is as­cended vp to my throne. These are the complaintes that the Prophets and the Apostles made against worldly Iudges, here are the Censures that our good God hath thundered against them.

There resteth now nothing more but to know what is done in Matrimonie, séeing that we haue sought out in gene­rall the miseries of all the estates of the world. There is nothing more certaine, if we will weye in our mindes the origi­nall of Matrimonie, excellent, and well [Page] accomplished on both partes,A praise of mari­age, to shevv the miseries that fol­lovv. as Plato did his Commō weale, Cicero his Ora­tor, & S. Augustine in his Citie of God. There is nothing in the worlde, whiche may compare in pleasures to mariage▪ be it true, the fortune aswell prosperous as aduerse is common, and that more is, there is so great Communaltie of bodie and vnxion of spirites, that they séeme two, transformed into one. And if the pleasures séeme to vs greate, to confer our affaires and secrets with our frien­des and neighbors, how much is the de­lectation more greater that we receiue, to discouer our thoughtes to hir, that is ioyned to vs by such a place of charitie, that we put our truste in hir, as in oure selues, making hir wholy treasurer or faithfull kéeper of many inwarde secre­tes and cogitations of our soule. But what may be more greater witnesse of feruent loue, than to forsake Father, Mother, Sisters and Brothers, and ge­nerally all the Consanguinitie till they become enimie of themselues, for to fol­low [Page] a husband that doeth honor and re­uerence hir, and hauing all other things in disdaine, she only cleaueth to him, if he be riche, she kéepeth his goods, if he be poore, she employeth all the Arte that na­ture hath giuen hir for to compare with him in his pouertie, if he be in prosperi­tie, his felicitie is redoubled in hir, she séeing hir selfe partaker of his benefits, if he be in aduersitie, she beareth but the one halfe of the griefe, and furthermore counterfeiteth him, assisteth and serueth him. If a man wyll remayne solita­rie in his house, his wife keepeth him cō ­panie, doeth cherishe and comfort him, and causeth him more easilye to digest the incōmodity of his solicitude, if he wil go to the fieldes, she cōducteth him with eye, so far as she can sée him, she desireth and honoreth him, being absent, she cō ­plaineth and sigheth as if he were al­ways by hir, being come home, he is wel receiued, cherished and fauored, with the best shewes and tokens of loue that na­ture hath shewed, in such sort, that for [Page] to speake the truth, it séemeth that a wife is a gift from heauen graunted to man, as well for the contentation of youth, as for the rest and solace of age, nature can giue vs but one father and one mo­ther, but mariage representeth many in our children, the which do reuerēce and honor vs, who are more deare than our own proper bowels, being yong & little they play, laugh & shew vs many Apysh toyes, they prepare vs an infinite num­ber of pleasures, in suche sorte, that by their toyes and pastimes that nature hath giuen vs for to deceiue and passe a­way part of our miserable life (if we be besieged with age, a thing common to all) they solace the discommoditie of our age, close our eyes, bring vs to the earth from whence we came: they are oure bones, our flesh and bloud, séeing them, we sée our selues, in such sort that the fa­ther séeing his children, may be assured that he séeth his liuelye youth renued in the face of his children, in whom we are regenerate and borne againe, in suche [Page] sort, that the age (being a heauy burthē) is not grieuous vnto vs, beholding the mirrors or similitudes of our selues that eliuate the memorie of vs, and make vs almost immortal, in procreating and in­gendring others after vs, as the Ioynt or slip being taken from a trée, of the which groweth many others: the which I haue treated more at large in a booke that I brought to light the last yeare, of the dignitie of Mariage, in the which I thinke I did omit nothing of that that pertayneth to the whole ornament and decking of the coniunction of Ma­trimonie: therefore, for feare to be ac­cused of vnconstancie, or counted a turn tippet, I will not nowe dispraise that which I haue so muche exalted. But for that my subiect (that treateth of the mi­series of all estates in our dayes) requi­reth that I giue no more pardon of this, than I did to the others, I will in fewe words shew that which I haue reade in manie Authors, the which confesse with me, that there is much swéete and plea­sant [Page] things in mariage. But if we doe well consider and weye in a iust ballāce the great and vnsupportable déedes, we shall finde among these Roses, manye thornes, and among these sweete shoures of raine, we shall find that there falleth alwayes much haile,Lawes for to recōcile the man and the vvife. be it true, the Athe­nians being a people much commended for their prudencie and wisdome, seeing that the husbands and wiues could not agrée, bicause of an infinite number of dissentions and prouocations that chaū ­sed ordinarrly betwene them, were con­strained to ordeyne in their common weale certaine magistrates, whom they called reconcilers of maried ones, the of­fice of whom is to reduce, reconcile, and set accord by all meanes. The Spartins in their common weale had in like case established certain Magistrates named Armosins, who had the charge to correct the insolencie of womē, to reproue their arrogancie and audacitie towards their husbands. The Romanes would not or­deyne Magistrates, perswading with [Page] themselues that men were not sufficiēt to bridle the raging temeritie of womē that they did poure out, but they had their refuge to the Gods, and dedicated a temple to the Goddesse Vitiplaca, where in the end they accorded of their domesticall quarrels. But who can (say they) paciently beare the charges of Ma­riage, the insolency and arrogancye of women,Miseries and thor­nes in ma­riage. the yoke of a kinde vnperfect? Who may accomplishe their carnal ap­petite, as also their vnsatiable pompes? Doth not the olde Gréeke Prouerbe say that women and ships, are neuer so wel accomplished, but that alwayes they want repairing? If thou takest hir poore she shalbe despised, and thy selfe lesse e­stéemed, if thou takest hir rich, thou ma­kest thy selfe a bond slaue, for thinking to marie one equall to thée, thou mariest thy vnsupportable maistres, if y^u takest hir foule, thou canst not loue hir, if thou takest hir faire, it is a ymage at thy gate for to bring thée companie, it is a tower that is assailed of al the world, and ther­fore [Page] that is verie hard to kepe that eue­ry one séeketh to haue the key, beholde the hazard wherin thou art (sayth Wil­liam de la Perriere) that thy round head become not forked, which were a fear­full sight if it were visible and apparēt,Beautie maketh a vvoman suspected, deformi­tie hated, & riches proud. this is the conclusion, riches causeth a woman to be proud, beautie maketh hir suspected, and deformitie or foulenesse causeth hir to be hated. Therefore Dipo­nares hauing tased the martirdomes of mariage, said that there were but twoo good dayes in all the life of mariage, the one was the wedding day, and the other the day that the woman dieth, for that on the day of mariage, there is made good cheare, the Bride is fresh and new, and all new things are pleasant, and of all pleasures the first is moste delectable. The other day that he sayth is good, is the daye wherein the woman dieth, for that the beast being deade, deade is the poison, and that by the death of the wo­man the husband is out of bondage. In confirmation wherof, there is recited a [Page] pretie historie of a noble Romane, who the day after his mariage, after that he had lien the first night with his wife, was verye pensiue and sorowfull, and being demaunded of certaine of his fa­miliar friends, what was the occasion of his sorrow, séeing that his wife was so faire, riche, and come of a noble pro­genie: shewing them his foote, he stret­cheth out his leg, saying, my friendes, my shooe is newe, faire and well made, but you know not where about it doeth hurt and grieue me. Also is alleaged the saying of Philemon, that saide that the woman was to the man a necessarie e­uill, séeing that there is nothing more harder to finde in this woride, than a good woman, following the auncient Prouerb, that sayth that a good woman, a good Mule, and a good Goate, and thrée daungerous beastes. Also is recited the saying of Plutarchus, the which demaū ­deth if there be any thing more lighter than a womans tongue vnbridled, more pricking than hir wordes, more to be [Page] feared than hir boldnes, more execrable than hir malice, more daungerous thā hir furie, or more dissembling than hir teares, not putting in account manye other things that he reciteth of the discō ­modities of their worke, for that many times men are constrained to nourishe other mens children, or if by chaunce they are the husbands, he is in hazarde to be the father of wicked children. The which manie times are the desolution and dishonor of their fathers house, and a reproch and shame to all their kinred. The which thing y^t Emperor Augustus fearing, wished that his wife might ne­uer haue childe,A notable sentence of Marcus Aurelius. and oftentimes he cal­led his wife and his Niece two wormes that did eate and destroye him with ex­treme dolor. Marcus Aurelius one of the worthiest Emperors that euer bare scepter, knowing what was done in ma­riage, as he was dailie called on by cer­taine of his Lords, that he shoulde mar­rie his daughter, saide vnto them: vexe me no more, for if all the counsell of the [Page] wise were founded in one Fornace, they woulde not be sufficient for to giue good counsell in making of a mariage, and will ye that I giue hir alone & so light­ly. It is now six yeres since that Antho­nius Pius elected me for his son in lawe,Anthoni­us Pius. and gaue me the Empire in mariage, and yet haue we bene both deceiued, he in taking me for his sonne in lawe, and I for taking hys daughter to wyfe. He was called Pius, for that he was ve­ry pitifull to eche one sauing to me, to whom he was cruell, for in a little fleshe he hath giuen me many bones, whiche is in some the bitter gal that is mingled among the swéete delicatenes of Matri­mony, the which for to speake the truth, we cannot so well cloke nor disguise by words, but y^• at the last we are constrai­ned to confesse it, so that if we do weye vprightlye the Eclipses and miseries, with the pleasures & pastimes, we shall find that y^• one surpasseth not the other.

LEaue we now eche estate, making their tra­fick, and spreading their nets, and let vs take our way to humaine miseri­es, & treat of the other scourges, wher­with nature doth torment this poore ves­sell of earth, for to make him stoupe, and bring him to the knowledge of his God.The mise­ry of man for the di­uersitie of Religion. It was not sufficiēt that there is a cor­ruption in all estates, and in the lumpe of man, which is but a filthie and foule carcasse, but that he must areare battell against God, in deuiding his Religion. S. Ierome and S. Augustine do declare that in their time, the word of God was had in such reuerence, that it was spred in all the corners of the earth, euen in the wildernesse, but nowe (vnthankfull wretches that we are) the Lorde God hath so takē away the light of his Gos­pell from vs for oure sinnes, that it shineth but in a little end and corner of [Page] Europe. And yet that which ought to giue vs most feare, are the diuersitie of opinions that are among vs, and the er­rors wherein we are wrapped, for that which one sayth is white, another sayth is blacke, that which some call daye, o­thers call night, that which is light to one, is darknesse to another, that which some finde swéete, others iudge it bitter, that which is Iesus Christs veritie and heauen to one, is Antichristes dreames and hell to another. In the meane time what shoulde the Ignorant thinke, in what trouble, perplexitie and dispayre ought their poore consciences to be in, when they sée that denied of one, which the other approueth, seeing that thys is certaine, that there is but one veritie a­mōg so much varietie of opinions. We may now well saye that the shéepesolde is open by the negligence of Pastors,Iere. 12. Ezech. 34. the Wolues are entred, and the shéepe are dispersed and gone forth, some of them forsaken of their shéepheards, and guided by others that care not for theyr [Page] losse. Those that are in the true flocke are continually in daunger to be sedu­ced and drawen oute of the right path. If it were possible to beholde with our corporall eyes, the daunger wherein all Christendome hath bene, or if it were possible to count or number the poore soules that by the dissentions of diuers opinions perish daily, there is none but would quake for feare. But is there any kinde of wrath or vengeaunce that we haue not tasted in oure age, I will not here recken the warres and effusion of bloud that we haue tasted within thys fortie or fiftie yeares.In a trea­tise of peace and vvar. I haue written of this more at large in other places, but the memorie thereof is so newe that the woundes bléede as yet vpon y^e poore peo­ple, that we sée dailye stray about from towne to towne, with the poore mothers that beare their yong children in theyr armes, saued from the middest of the fi­er, from the bloudy glaiues, fleing the vnmercifulnesse of the enimie, finding no place of refuge for to solace their ca­lamitie, [Page] can witnesse y^t same. But what harde and stonie hearts haue those that sée the stréetes and places couered with these straunge people, what countenāce maye those then haue, that stirre vp so many tragedies on the earth, when that they shall heare their cries and lamen­tatiōs, knowing that the day wil come wherein they shall render a count of all the innocent bloud that they haue shed, from the time of Abell that was firste slaine, vntill the last man, as the spirite of God doeth teach vs in the holy scrip­ture. We haue bene afflicted with y^e war which is one of the forerunners & scour­ges of Gods wrathe. Haue not we had plagues in our time? behold y^e afflictiōs, how they succéede by degrées. I haue red maruelous contagions that haue bene before our time,The mise­rie of mā by conta­gion, as vvell in times past as in our age. the which we will con­fer with ours, to the ende that we maye know, that then when the wrath of God is poured against vs, that thē all liuing soules do féele it. Many Authors worthy of credence, write that those of Constan­tinople [Page] haue bene persecuted with a plague so horrible, that those that were not sicke, thought themselnes to be kil­led of other men, and being in this trou­ble and feare, they furiouslye thought that they had bene killed. In the time of Heraclius there chaūsed such a contagi­ous plague or pestilence in Romainie, y^t in a short time there died manye thou­sandes of men, and the violence of the sickenesse was so grieuous, that manye vnpacient in their paine, drowned them selues in Tyber, to staunch and quench the extreme heate that burned their bo­dies within, like a Cathar. Thucydides a Gréeke Author,Thucydi­des in his second booke of the vvars of the Pe­loponien­sis. writeth that in his time there was such corruption of the ayre in Greece, that there died an infi­nite number of people, without finding or inuenting remedie that might ease their paine, and yet he addeth a thing more wonderfull, that those that were healed of this poison, had lost their me­morie and knowledge, in so muche that one knewe not the other, no not the fa­ther [Page] the sonne.Marcus Aurelius. Marcus Aurelius an Au­thor worthye of credence, assureth that in his time, the mortalitie was so great in Italie, that the Writers that woulde haue wrytten thereof, hadde lesse paine to discouer and put in count the little number of those that remained a­liue, than the infinite number of those that died. The souldiers of Auidius Cas­sius that was Lieutenant to Marcus Anthonius the Emperor, being in Selu­cia a town of Babilonia, entred into the great Temple of Apollo, whereas they found a Coffer,The aire corrupted that pro­ceded out of a coffer perished the third part of humaine kinde. the which they opened, thinking that there had ben some great treasure, but the ayre that proceded out therof, was so infectious, that it first in­fected all the Region of Babilonia, and then proceded into Grecia, and from Gréece to Rome, whereas it moued so many pestilēces, that it caused to perish almost the third part of humaine kinde. Let vs leaue the auncient histories, and treate of those that haue passed vnder our age, to the end that we (being Chri­stians) [Page] may learne by the great miseries and afflictions, that God hath sent vs, the great fragilitie and miserie of oure humaine condition. For when that hys wrath is kindled against our sinnes, he maketh vs to féele the darts of his rigo­rous Iustice, there is no kinde of paine nor torment, but that therwith he afflic­teth and persecuteth his creatures, what experience had we in the yeare a thou­sand fiue hundreth, twentie eight? when that the plague was so grieuous in the French Camp,A plage in the French campe at Naples. whilst the siege was at Naples, whereas the violence of the paine was so prompt and sodaine, that they were sooner dead thā they did think to die. And this wicked and vnluckie dis­ease did not only afflict the vulgar sort, which were almost al consumed, but al­so the great Lordes felt it, the Lorde of Lautr [...], of Vaudemont de la Vall, de Moleac, the Chastynery grand Mont, and other notable personages, the me­morie therof can not be renued without teares. The lyke chaunced to English [Page] men in Bullen,A plage in Bullen. whereas the plage was so greate, that there was not grounde inough in the towne to burie the deade, so that the King of England coulde not finde men in Englande that would goe thither, till that they were forced of vio­lence to go, for the more there went thi­ther, the more there died, in such sorte, that the foure corners of the town were putrified and corrupted with the smell and vapor that proceded from the deade bodies. The yeare before that the decea­sed King Frauncis of good memorie, es­poused the Quéene Elinor, Almaine was assailed with a new kinde of sicke­nesse,A conta­gion in Almaine. wyth the which the parties that were taken, died within. xxiiij. houres with a sweate, and this sicknesse hauing taken his originall in the Occean, spred in a moment all ouer Almaine, as an embracing that consumeth al, for before that a remedie was founde, there died so many thousandes of men, that manye Prouinces remained desert and forsakē, bicause of the putrifaction of the ayre, [Page] that consumed all that it touched, also there where the aire was so infected, the dwellers remained marked with a red crosse. Ioachim Scilerus writeth, that when the pestilence tormented so furi­ously (and by so lōg space of time) Eng­lande,A marue­lous con­tagion in England. the powre of the venim was so great, that the reasonable creatures did not onelye die, but that the birdes left their nests, egges, and yong ones, the beasts left their caues & dennes, the ser­pents & mowles appered aboue groūd, by heaps, and left their places, for feare of the venemous vapor that was vnder the earth, in such sorte that there were found deade vnder the trées, and in the fieldes, with pushes and botches on their poore members. The yere. 1546. the last day of Maye, there did rise a plage that lasted nine Monethes, so great and dreadfull at Aix, Contagiō in Aix. a Citie in Prouincia, whereas the people of all ages died in eating and drinking, in such sort, that the Churchyardes were so full of deade bodies, that there was founde no more [Page] place to burie them, and the most parte of the diseased, fell into a fransie the se­cond day, and would cast themselues in­to Welles, others fell oute of their win­dowes into y^e streetes. Some other were vexed with a bloudie Flir by the nose, the which did runne day and night vio­lently, and with the losse of their bloude they lost their liues, and it came to such extremitie & desolation, that womē with childe brought forth the fruite of their wombe out of time, they and their fruit dying, the which afterward were chaū ­ged to a violet or blewish colour, as if the bloud had ben spred al ouer their bo­dies. And to be short, the desolation was so great, that the father kept no count of his childe, nor the husbande of his wife, yea with monie in their handes, oftenti­mes they died for default of a glasse of water, or if by fortune they had for to eate, the sicknesse was so cruel and short that they died many times with meat in their mouthes, and the furie of this con­tagion was so inflamed, and al the town [Page] so infected, that with their looke that they wold cast vpon some, they woulde in­fect them, and their winde and breath was so venemous, that there would rise botches and sores on the parties that therewith were attainted. It is a fearful and pitiful thing in nature, the which a Phisition left vs in writing, the which was ordeined of the chiefe of the Citie, to visite the sicke, that the euill was so cruell, that no remedie might be found, so that they that were taken therewith, had no hope of health, but by the assault of death. And they were so acquainted therewith, that when they felt them selues taken, they themselues woulde take a shéete, and lie downe aliue there­on, looking for no other thing than the violent departing that the soule hath,A marue­lous act. for to depart from the bodie, his mortall habitacle: the whiche he sayeth to haue séene in many, and specially in a womā whome he called by a window, for to or­deine hir some remedie and ease of hir paine, whome also he perceiued by the [Page] window, how she lay downe hirselfe in hir winding shéete, so y^• they that buried y^• infected, being entred into hir house, shortly after found hir dead and lien in the middest of hir house, with hir shéete half sowed.The mise­ry of man by famine There resteth now nothing but to treate of famine, which is one of the scourges of Gods iustice, as he him­selfe hath witnessed to vs by his Pro­phetes and Apostles,Leui. 26. sometimes threat­ning sinners to giue them a heauen of brasse, and a earth of fier, that is to saye, barren, that shall not bring forth fruite, and for this cause our Lord God decla­ring to his disciples, the plagues that should come, shewing before that Nati­on shal rise against Natiō, & kingdome against kingdome, he addeth euen after that as thoughe one did depende on an other.Math. 24. And there shall be pestilence and hunger in certain quarters of the earth. For war, pestilence and famine are the iij. darts that he is wont to shoote against the earth, when that he is angrie with his creatures. Let vs nowe sée whether [Page] that we haue not ben grieued with this dart, aswel as with the others. I wil not here shew the cōmon famines that haue raigned diuers times in Asia, Europa, & Affrica, but I wyll only make mention of them of most memorie, aswell Pro­phanes, as of those in holie scripture, to the end that those that liue in this world as in a pallace of volupteousnesse with­out hauing tasted the miseries and cala­mities to the which we are subiect, when that it pleaseth the Lorde God to poure doune vpon his creatures the arrowes of his wrath and malediction, be prouo­ked to acknowledge the souereigne and mightie power of their Creator, and the pitifull estate of humaine kinde, sub­iect to so many miseries. We will ther­fore begin with those of the Romaines. After the great ruine of Italie, and that Tottilleus the chiefe enimie of humaine kinde, had besieged Rome, they fell into such scarcitie of foode and sustenance, that they were faine to eate all kinde of filthy beastes & vermin, as horses, dogs, [Page] cattes, rattes, mise, and snch like, yea, and in the ende they did eate one ano­ther, a thing moste fearfull to heare of, that whē Gods iustice doth oppresse vs, we are brought to such necessitie, that we spare not our like, yea, the mothers their children.The mo­thers eate their chil­dren. The like befell in the de­struction of Ierusalē, as Eusebius shew­eth in his Ecclesiasticall historie. It is a straunge thing to heare, but more ab­hominable and monstrous to sée, that whē the great Scipio besieged the great Citie of Numantia, and that he had takē awaye all the meanes for them to get vittailes,A famine almost vncredi­ble. they being pressed with the extreme rage of hunger, came forth e­uerie daye to chase after the Romanes, in such sort, that whē they tooke any one they eate them without shame, & dranke their bloud, with as good a stomack, and so well disgested, as if they had had ey­ther Veale or Murton,A butche­rie vvhere mās fleshe vvas sold. and being in this rage, they tooke none to mercie, for so soone as he was taken, he was killed, fleyed, cut in pieces, and solde in the [Page] Butcherie, so that a Romane was more worth among them deade than liue, or raunsomed. There is made mention in the fourth booke of the Kings, the sixth Chapter, of a famine that chaunsed in Samaria, 4. Regū. 6. in the time of Helis [...]us, which passeth this before in desolation and pi­tie, for the hunger was so great, that the head of an Asse was solde for foure score pieces of siluer, and the fourth part of a measure of Pigeons dung, fiue pieces of siluer, and yet that which is furthest from our humanitie, after that all the vittailes were consumed, the mothers did eate their owne children, in such sort that a poore wife of the Citie made hir complaint to the King of Israell, (séeing him vpon the wall) for that hir neighbor would not kéepe and performe the coue­nant that was made betwéene them, which was, that they shoulde eate hir childe, and when that was eaten, the o­ther womās child should be in like case slaine, the whiche I haue (saide she to the King) done and accomplished, for we [Page] haue sodden and eaten my childe, and nowe she hath hidden hirs, for that it shoulde not sustaine me. And when the King had heard that which the woman had saide, his heart was vexed and trou­bled with sorrow, and rent his garments and put on sackcloth, saying, God do so and so vnto me, and so forth in the texte. Iosephus, the seuenth booke and thirde Chapter of the warres of the Iewes, telleth a Historie almoste conformable to this before rehearsed, but executed af­ter a more straūger and detestable ma­ner. He sayeth that there was a woman noble and riche,Ioseph. the. 7. booke. 3. chapter, of the vvarres of the Iewes. when that Ierusalem was besieged by Titus, Vespasians son, the whiche had gathered together parte of hir goods, that she had had in times past, and liued solitarilye of that little that she had, but the souldiers and men of war did take all away frō hir, in such sort that whē that she had made ready a morsell of meat for hir own eating, they would take it away by force, so that she had nothing remayning. So that after­ward [Page] she hirself was oppressed with ve­rie great hunger, so that she wished hirselfe out of the worlde, but hir houre was not yet come. Wherefore that she might slake hir hunger, and sustaine hir life, she armed hirself against the lawes of nature, and tooke vpō hir an horrible crueltie, for when she hearde hir childe crie, the whiche she helde in hir armes, she saide vnto him, what shall I doe my sonne, for the wrath of God hath enuiro­ned this Citie,A historie of Iose­phus. in euery corner thereof, famine ragineth, without the Citie the sworde killeth vp all, within we stande in feare of the sedicious, oure enimies preuaile without, in the town are fiers, burnings & ruines of houses, famines, pestilence, spoyling and destroying, so that I cannot féede thée my sonne. Now therefore my sonne, if I shoulde die for hunger, to whome should I leaue thée, being yet a childe, if I shoulde saue thy life, thou shouldest be in perpetuall ser­uitude and bondage to the Romanes, come therfore my sonne and be meate to [Page] thy mother, a terror and shame to the men of war that haue left me nothing, and thy lot be in the Garden of Eden, and Paradise. And after that she had spoken these wordes, she killed him, cut his bodie in pieces, & rosted some, & some she sod, and when she had eaten parte, she laide vp the rest to kéepe: and after that she had plaide this pitifull Trage­die, the souldiers came againe, and they smelling the smell of the rosted childe, began to threaten hir euen to die, if that she brought not forth the meat. But she being as it were in a rage, séeking mea­nes to follow hir sonnes steppes, being nothing abashed, said vnto them, be con­tent my friendes, I haue done you no wrong, beholde I haue kept you your parts: so ending hir wordes, she brought forth the rest of hir childe, and set it on the table, wherewith the souldiers being amased and confounded, felt themselues so smitten to the heart, that they remai­ned dumbe and ouercome, but she to the contrarie, with a fearful looke, and sted­fast [Page] countenance, said vnto them, what my friends, be merie, it is my fruite, it is my childe, it is my déede, why do you not eate therof? I haue satisfied my selfe firste therewith, be you more captious therin than the mother that bare him? thinke you scorne of my meate, of the which I haue eatē before you? But they which coulde not suffer or abide to sée so pitiful a spectacle, went their ways, and left hir alone with y^t rest of hir child, the which was in sūme, y^e rest that was left hir of al hir goods. Here haue I recited y^e saying of Iosephus. But for y^• there are some that are nothing moued in reading histories, monuments, or the examples of auncient writers, vnlesse that they haue knowē the like in their age, or séen with their eyes, or as it were touched with their finger, therefore I will shew here howe that God doeth spare vs no more, than he hath done our Elders be­fore vs, when that he is angrie for oure sinnes, as it shalbe plainely shewed by this Historie that followeth, the whiche [Page] Willyam Paradin hath written,The mise­rie of our age. a man learned and wel séene in the knowledge of Histories or memoriall things done in our time, where as he sayth, that the yeare a thousand, fiue hundreth, twentie eight, the world was giuen to so many vices, and was so full of sinne and ini­quitie, that it was not humbled and a­mended, bicause of the furious assaultes and great effusion of bloud of the former wars,The mer­uellous contagion of our time. but to the cōtrarie, it was become worse and wholy depraued, by the mea­nes whereof the bonde of Gods wrathe was sprede out in this poore Realme of Fraunce, after such a sorte, that it was thought that all was brought to an end. For there happened so great calamitie, pouertie and miserie, that there was ne­uer the like knowen by memoriall of time, of the like affliction, aswell in hu­maine bodies, as in fruties and reue­nues of the earth, for during the space of fiue whole yeares,A famine, the yere 1528. which beganne the yeare. 1528. the time came into suche a disorder, that the foure seasons left their [Page] natural course, and shewed themselues chaunged and altered among themsel­ues: the Spring time being Haruest, and the Haruest the Spring time, the Sommer in Winter, and the Winter in Sommer, but aboue all, the Sommer had such powre, y^• it occupied the raigne and domination of the others, and spe­ciallye against his nature contrarie, so that in the déepest colde of Winter, that is to wit, December, Ianuarie and February, in y^• which times they ought to rest, die, leaue the ground, and giue it ouer to frostes, snowes and cold, it was so extreme whote, and the earth was so heated and burned, that it was a feare­full sight to sée. For in fiue yeares there fell little frost that remained aboue one day or twain, so that by this vnaccusto­med great heat, maintained and nouri­shed the vermine of the earth, as Todes, Frogs, Grashoppers, Caterpillers, and such like, in such quantity, that the yong and tender corne was no sooner come forth, and out of his blade, but that it [Page] was eatē and deuoured, which was the cause that the corne that ought to mul­tiplie, and haue many eares and stalks of one roote, brought forth but one or twoo, and yet very barren, beeing full of Darnell and blastings, in such sort, that when it was gathered, the moste part came not aboue the quantitie of the so­wed séede, and manye times lesse. And this famine lasted fiue yeares without ceasing, a thing so pitifull and misera­ble, that it is not possible for man to y­magine the like without seeing, whiche was the cause that a quarter of Wheat was sold at Lyonnois, Forests, Auerg­ny, Bauionlois, Burgonny, Sauoye, Dolphinye, and manye other places, for the summe of .xiiij .xvi .xviii. poundes tur­noys. And the poore people were so affli­cted, with suche dearth and scarcitie so long a time, that a number of mischiefs and maledictions did follow. For y^e poore people that liued well inoughe of theyr rents and reuenues, were cōstrained to forsake all and aske their bread for Gods [Page] sake, and the number of poore beg­gars did so encrease, that it was a piti­full sight to sée them in flockes harde to ouercome, and more daungerous to endure, for beside the great feare that men had to be robbed of them, the which extreme necessitie did constraine, there proceded a great stinking and infectious smell out of their bodies, for that they filled their bellies with all kindes of hearbes, good, naught, helthfull and ve­nemous, so that there was no herbes left in Gardens, that they might come by, not so muche as the stalkes and rootes of Coleworts (of the which) they founde not the one halfe to sustaine them. And when that there was no more to be had in Gardens, they had their refuge to wilde herbes, not vsed, so that the most part of them, woulde séeth great kettels with Mallowes and other herbes, and so satisfied thēselues as doe hogs. But it was a greater wōder to sée bread made of chaffe, ackornes, and of haye séede, the which the poore were forced to eate, by [Page] impacience and rage of hunger, and al­so remembring themselues, howe that hogs do delite to féede on Fearne rootes, they made breade thereof, deceiuing or beguiling the hogs of their foode and sustenāce. The which is inough to make vs knowe how much oure Lord Gods wrath was against y^• filth of our sinne, séeing that he permitted that mē should be brought to such necessitie, as to eate with the hogges, by the which meanes followed a number diseases, and the worlde fell into a greate feare, séeing a great bande or companie of men and women, yong and olde, goe shaking or trembling in the stréetes, the others hauing the skinne swollen lyke drum­mes, others lying halfe deade on the ground, drawing their last breath, and of such kind of people were stables and barnes filled, others were so langui­shing, that of great paine, they coulde tel their necessitie, nor yet scant draw their breath, but quiuered and shaked with their legs, rather séeming like to fancies [Page] and dreames, than men. Besides al this the great compassion was to see a great company of poore mothers, bare, leane, and disfigured, compassed and charged with many yong children, the which by great distresse of famine, cried out vnto their mothers for foode, the which beheld them so pitifullye and dolefully, that it séemed to me the greatest pitie of al, hea­ring the anguishe and distresse of heart that they shewed, by shedding abun­dance of teares, and pitifull looke. The saide Paradin writeth, to haue séene at a place called Louhans in Burgonie, a poore woman, the which by great means and importunitie had found the meanes to get a piece of bread, the which was so­denly snatched out of hir hand, by a litle childe of hirs, the which she gaue sucke to, and held in hir armes, the which was scant a yeare olde, the mother had neuer séene it eate bread before, for y^• which she maruelled greatly, beholding hir lyttell childe, how it did eate this same browne breade that was hard and drie, with so [Page] great an appetite, that it was a straūge & maruellous thing to behold, for y^e mo­ther woulde haue gathered togither the crums that fell from his mouth, but the child began to crie out, as though it had sustained some great wrong, for anger that he saw his mother gather togither the crums, as though he had ben afraied not to haue had inough. O eternal & al­mightie God, what image? what specta­cle? might there be founde anye heart so void of humanity, that might not be mo­ued thereby with cōpassion & pitie? The said Author reciteth yet, that in an other village (not far distant from the before saide) were found two women, the which not finding wherewithall to sustaine or slake their hunger, did eate and fill themselues with a venemous herbe na­med Scyla, being like Onyons, or wilde Lettise, and not knowing the vertue nor propertie of the saide herbe, poyso­ned themselues, in such sort and maner that their féete and hands became gréen like Lezardes skinnes, and the poyson [Page] came forth vnder their nayles of theyr fingers, so that there was no remedie but that they died soone after. Finallye, this miserie and calamitie being of a long and an intollerable time, the good husbandmen of the countries hauing lande, heritages and possessions, were constrained to haue their refuge to rich Merchantes, whereof some had hourded vp whole barnes full of corne, for to bye first of them, whilst that their monie las­ted, and then afterwardes was landes, and heritages laid to gage, & solde who­ly and at a smal price, of the which such was worth a hundreth pounds, for the which they had not ten, so great was the mischiefe, and yll lucke of this cursed a­uarice and vsurie, and yet it was not y­nough that men were afflicted & scour­ged with the vehement yre and scourge of Gods wrath, by coniuration of al the elements, & almost of all the creatures, but that men also (their like) did afflict and persecute them. For these couetous rich men, séeing the time to succéede, as [Page] they did wish and desier, for to fyll thier chests & coffers, did not faile to their oc­casion, they had Factors for their pur­pose, for to put to sale y^• poore mēs goods at their price, and at the worde of those that had corne, for the bying wherof the good people wold leaue nothing vnsold, euen to lay to gage their clothing, for to haue foode, and that which was worse, the most part sawe not that measured that they bought, and notwithstanding they were constrained to take it, such as pleased the seller, and to bye (as the pro­uerbe goth) a pig in a poke. And I must here tel, y^• there hath bene such a vsurer that hath had a piece of grounde for lesse than the writings haue coste at a Nota­ries hands. Those that haue made suche rapines, know well that I speak truth. And after al these mischiefs, you should sée nothing but good people driuen out of their houses and goods, they, their wiues and children, and then they died in Hospitals, of the which, these false sel­lers are the murtherers, as if they had [Page] cut their throtes, and they shall render and giue account before him, vnto whō nothing is hidden. We haue here made a long declaratiō of thrée scourges, with the which our God is wonted to waken his creatures, when that he féeleth them obstinate and wallowing in their sins, but this before is little, to the regard of other cruel diseases, with the which our life is threatned, and besieged all oure dayes.The di­uersitie of diseases, vvhere­vvith mā is afflic­ted. Plinie and manye other Phisti­ons, Gréekes and Arabians, haue writ­ten, that since two thousand yeare, they haue discouered more than thrée hun­dreth kinde of sicknesses, to the whiche the humaine bodies are subiect, without reckning those that daylie encrease. A­mong the which they make mention of some so cruell, that I cannot refer them w^tout shame. I will leaue here to speake of the vulgar and common sort of disea­ses, where as it behoueth sometimes to burne the members with hote burning catares, saw a sunder bones, take oute the paine in the head, pull bowels out [Page] of their bodies, as though there shoulde be made some Inuentarie & Anotamy. Others that haue bene made to keepe diets so straight, bicause of the furie of their disease (as Cornelius Celsus shew­eth) that they haue bene constrained to drinke their owne vrine to quench their thirst, eat their plasters, for to moderate their hunger. Others being perswaded that they haue swallowed downe ser­pents, to the whiche there was no mea­nes of helpe, vntill that there hath bene liue serpents put into the Basen wher­in they vomited, making them beleue that they were come out of their bodi­es, as Alexander Tralianus sheweth, of the damsell that he healed by this mea­nes, y^• which thought that she had swal­lowed downe a serpent in hir sléepe. O­thers, of the which their sicknesse is so horrible and straūge, that they thought they were transformed into brute bea­stes, as he whom Gallian maketh men­tion of, that thought verilye that he had bene transformed into a Cock, and that [Page] he was among the Cockes daylie, and when that he did heare them crowe, he would counterfeit the like, and as they flap their wings when that they begin to sing, so woulde he do with his armes. Others that thought themselues to be turned into Wolues, and ceased not in the nights to runne by hilles,Thoughe that abu­sedly the common state thinketh that this pro­ceedeth of of some o­ther thing dales, de­serts places and fieldes, and counter­feited their howlings, with other Wol­uish iestes, and are tormented with this maladie, vntil that the sunne hath spred his beames on the earth. The Gréekes call this kind of maladie Lycantropeia, the whiche thing I thinke shoulde not séeme straunge or fabellous to those that haue red in holy scripture the piti­full Metamorphosie of Nabuchodono­sor, who was transformed into an Oxe, the space of seauen yeares, for to bring him to the knowledge of his God. And others, sayth Galian, in the place before alleaged, y^t thought thēselues to be tur­ned into earthen vessels, and went not out of the fields, & if that they saw a trée [Page] or a wall, they ranne away, fearing lest that they should strike against it, and so to be broken in pieces. Others that haue bene thrée yeres togither without sleepe or closing their eyes, as it happened to the good Mecenas. Others that are so op­pressed with paine, that they beate their head against the walles, as it hath hap­pened to a cunning man in our time named Angell Pollitian. Others that are constrained to eate serpents in their sicknesse, as the Leprous. Others, as it happened to the Philosopher Phereci­des, out of whose bodie proceded a great quantity of Serpents. Others in whose bodies there engēdreth a great quātitie of lice, by y^• which they are in the end de­uoured, without finding or inuēting re­medie therfore, the which the Medicins cal,A lousie sicknes [...]e. y^• lousie sicknesse. I could rehearse a­mong all these euils, other miseries that man hath inuented of himselfe for to shorten his life & the life of hys neigh­bour, as thoughe those that nature hath prepared for him, were not sufficient, [Page] suche are the venims and poysons the which he prepareth at this daye, so dex­terlye, that there is no more order of safetie, but to flie and forsake the com­panie of humaine creatures,Diuers in­uentions of venims & poysōs. and to goe into the wildernesse among the brute beastes, in whose companie it is more sure than in the company of him that is yllwilling. Certaine auncient Authors as Orpheus, Orus, Medesius, Heliodo­rus and Aratus, haue shewed the com­position of fiue hundreth sortes of ve­nims and poysons, and certaine others since their time haue increased the nū ­ber: but if they were liuing at this day, they woulde be counted foolish Asses, so much is our humaine malice burst out,The poy­sons and venims inuented by men. during the olde time, they did helpe thē ­selues with certaine Drugs, which are of their nature venemous, as Ptholo­meus writeth, of that which he calleth Marmacica, the which is so contagious that the weight of a wheate corne ma­keth a man die sodenly, and it is solde a hundreth crownes the ounce, and so [Page] muche tribute payed he that bought it, and yet they had this consideration, to make them sweare that they shoulde not vse therof in their Prouince, nor a­gaynst their friendes, but only againste straungers. But good God, the Diuell hath so entred into men at this daye, and hath made them so cunning, & apt in euill and mischiefe, that by the smell therof men are poysoned as the experi­ence was at Sienne. Another Floren­tine knight, after that he had pulled of his helmet for to take ayre,Ierome Cardan in his booke of subtilitate and to re­fresh him, an enimie of his rubbed him with a certaine poyson, which was the occasion that he died sodenly. Also in fla­mes of torches, they can so wel corrupt them, that their smell & smoke shal poy­son men, in such sort, that many dare not light torches a nights for to cōduct thē, if y^t they stand in feare of their enimie. As cōcerning meats & drinks empoysoned,Exclama­tion a­gainst the poisoners that is a common practise, and as they saye, the reuenge of kitchen maides, but I am ashamed for that I nedes must tell [Page] that which I haue red in a famous Au­thor, that they haue founde the meanes in our age, to empoyson the saddels of horses, bootes and spurs, also that which cannot be pronounced without griefe, for in touching the hands one of another yea,A subtill inuention of poyso­ning. euen in letters and writings that are sent, the which being vnclosed, there is a little subtill vapor that riseth hie, and ascēdeth by little into a mans bray­nes. They knowe the practise whereof Theophrastus speaketh, that the poyson is sometimes prepared after such a sort, that it killeth not but at the murtherers intentiō, for if he wil, the party shal liue iij. moneths .vi. moneths, a yere, in such sort, that death commeth at the time of y^• collectiō and gathering of the medicine or poyson prepared. Furthermore, as I haue vnderstoode of men worthy of faith and credence, that they haue the subtil­tie to make it after such a sorte, that it shall not hurt but one mēber, one arme, or one leg. The experience thereof hath bene séene in a fountaine empoysoned [Page] beside Rhine, neare to the sea, the water of the saide, caused the téeth to fall out of all those that drunke thereof in the campe of Germanie. Also things are come to such desolation, that they haue foūd the meanes to mingle poyson with the Wafer or Communion bread,An Em­peror em­poysoned vvith a vvafer cake. as I haue writtē in other places. Is not this a maruelous thing that Ierom Cardan writeth of a certaine inuention of Gray Friers that hath bene foūd in our yea­res, of a Coller or Carcan whiche if the Creditor put it on the Debtors necke, it can not be taken awaye, but of him that put it on, and by such mischief, one Zafarnus citizen of Millaine, being o­uercome by his Creditor, died, as Car­dan witnesseth. There resteth nowe to shewe howe that man is afflicted by the foure elements, which are as witnesses and ministers of the vengeance and wrath of God against our sinnes. What is there more necessarie for the life of man than water? for there is neyther mā nor beast that can liue without the [Page] vse thereof, there is neyther herbe nor plant that can bring forth either séede or fruite without water, without putting in account the profit and cōmoditie that it bringeth in this worlde, séeing also that it is the most aunciētest and migh­tiest element of all, as Plinie and Isido­rus writeth,Man af­flicted by vvater. it ouerwhelmeth and decai­eth mountains, she gouerneth the earth, quencheth the fier, and conuerting into vapors, surpasseth the Region of the ayre, and afterwardes descendeth for to engender and bring forth al things that are hid in the earth. And yet notwith­standing, what chasticements hath the antiquitie or former age tasted of the ri­gor of this element, when the great fall of waters was,The de­luge. Genesis. 7. that couered all y^e earth, when that the vames of heauen were opened, and that the water did surpasse or ouerwhelmed the most hyest moun­taines, the heigth of fiftene fadome, as Moyses witnesseth in Genesis. How of­tentimes hath Egypt bene ouerflowen when that Nille deriued from his chanel [Page] how many thousands of men haue loste their liues, and haue bene deuoured of fishes. Gréeke lande hath felt the furie of the waters, and can witnesse the same, when the greate floud or deluge of wa­ters did ouerrun the most part of Thes­salie, the people being afrayed all to be drowned. What losse and harme recey­ued the Romaines, in the yeare a thou­sand, fiue hundreth,The foure elementes executors of Gods vvrath. thirtie? by the swel­ling and ouerflowing of the floud of Ti­ber, the which did rise after such a sorte, that it ouerwhelmed houses, and hie toures in their citie, and beside the losse of Bridges that were broken, the losse of goods, golde, siluer, wine, corne, cloth of silke, oyles, woolles, and other moua­bles, to the value of thrée Msllions of golde: there died more than thrée hun­dreth men, beside women and children, which were drowned by violence of the waters of the said floud, as the Elders do write. Iespar Contarenus in his boks of the foure elementes writeth, that in our time, Vallencia a Citie in Spaine, [Page] with al the Citizens, were almost drow­ned by a violent & an vnknown water, after such sorte, that if the Citizens had not sodainlye giuen succor in rampai­ring and fencing, there had bene no o­ther hope of safegard. Without making mention of an infinite of other harmes and domages, that we haue receyued, since this fiue or sixe thousande yeares that the worlde was created, of raynes, hayles, frostes, snowes, and other lyke iniuries, that depend of the rigor of this element.

What is there more wonderfull in nature than fier,Man af­flicted by fier. by the benefite wherof all our meates are seasoned, the life of many things is, Mettalles are mingled and made flexible: iron is daunted, made pliable and ouercōmed: the lime stones, that we vse for y^e plastring & trimming of our houses and edifices, are burned and softned in the bellie or middest of the earth, by his aide and help. And not­withstanding,Gen. ca. 9. how manye famous Ci­ties haue bene fiered, burned & brought [Page] to ashes by the vertue of this element, the moste auncientest witnesse is in the holie scripture, of Sodome and Gomor, on the which our Lorde God poured or rained downe fier and brimstone, and the last scourge and destruction of the vniuersall world shalbe executed by the furie of this element, as it is written by by the Prophets and Apostles. If that I would set out at large and by order, the proude Cities and Prouinces that haue bene burned in diuers places of the world, by the incursiō and insurrection of the warre, but onely in our time, the Tragedie would be excessiue. But those that are curious of such things, let them read Strabo in his twelfth booke, & Ruf­finus treating of Eusebius workes, and Amianus Marcelinus, where they shall finde also that the flames of fier procea­ding from the tops of hilles or moun­taines, and other bowels of the earth, haue burned manye townes with their inhabitants. In the time of Lucius Mar­cus, & Sextus Iulius the Consuls, there [Page] procéeded so great flame from two hilsPlinie. or mountaines, that all the townes and mountaines about them were burned, and many inhabitants burned and con­sumed by the violence of the flames that came forth by great violence.The mi­serie of man by thunders lightnin­ges and tempests. I can in like case make mention of thunders and lightnings, and how many noble perso­nages haue bene consumed and killed by this kinde of sodaine death, as Zora­stus, King of the Bactrians, Captaine in the warre of Thebes, Aiax after the de­struction of Troie, Anastatius the Em­peror, when he had raigned .xxvij. yeres, Carius also and manye other Kings and Emperors that haue taken their end by this kind of death. The ayre is so requi­site, for the preseruation of our huma­nitie, that there is no liuing beast that can haue life without the vse thereof. And yet notwithstāding, it is so perni­cious to humaine kinde when it putrifi­ethMen af­flicted by the ayre. and corrupteth, that the most part of pestilences before mencioned, take their originall and beginning, as from their [Page] verie Author. The earth that is the most gentillest and tractablest of all the ele­ments, which is our common mother of all, receiuing vs whē that we are borne, that nourisheth vs and sustaineth vs, and in the end receyueth vs into hir bo­wels as into a bed, and kéepeth vs vntil the day that it pleaseth God to call vs toMan af­flicted by the earth. appeare and come forth to his iudge­ment, and notwithstanding, it bringeth forth all the venims and poysons, with the which our life is daily assaulted. And sometimes by these earthquakes and in­ternall agitations, many townes haue bene weakened, and many thousands of men swallowed vp in these openings and earthquakes. In the time that Mi­thridates raigned, the earth beganne to moue, and to shake with suche a rigor and furie, that there was not only ma­nye townes rased, but also there was a­boue a hundreth thousande men swallo­wed and ouerwhelmed. In the time or raigne of Constantine, sonne to y^e Em­peror Constantine, there were suche a [Page] number of townes ouerthrowne,Man af­flicted by earth­quakes. and swallowed vp with their inhabitants in Asia by earthquakes, that the Historio­graphes had much to do to number thē. In the time of Isocratus and Plato, the concauits & bottoms of the earth, did o­pen in Europe, by suche vehemencie, that two great Cities with their inhabi­tants were swallowed vp in a moment. There is not reade to our memorie, nor to the memorie of man a more dreadfull earthquake, than that which happened in the raigne of Tiberius Cesar, by the which, in the space of one night twelue Cities were swallowed vp with their goods and inhabitants, amōg the which Apolonia, Ephesia, Cesaria, Philadel­phia, and manye others numbred.The little beasts war vpon mā and en­creaseth his mise­ries. And yet it is a thing more to be maruelled at, and that turneth to more confusion the pride and loftinesse of men, that the earth bringeth forth certaine littel bea­stes, that oppresse and make war vpon him, yea, chase, excile and banishe him, from his habitation and dwelling, the [Page] which maye be thought vntrue and fa­bellous, if it were not for the great nū ­ber of Historians and Writers y^• which shew iust & true witnesse thereof. Elian writeth, y^t there increased or multiplied such a nūber of Rates in certaine places of Italie, that for the destructiō that they made to rootes of trées and herbes (for the which there was no remedie) cansed such a famine to be, that the inhabitants were constrayned to forsake their coun­trie. Marcus Varonus, one of the wor­thiest writers that euer writ in Latine, sayth, that in Spaine there was a great Borough, situated on a sandie ground, that was so vndermined with Cunnies that in the ende the inhabitants did for­sake it, for feare to haue sunke into the holes or dennes of these littel beastes, by whose meane it was at the last ouer­throwne. The same Author writeth, that there was a town in Fraunce that was left vninhabited, bicause of y^e multitude of frogs. In Affrica the like chaūce hap­pened by Grashoppers. Theophrastus [Page] maketh mention of a certaine Prouince that they caused the people to dishabit. Plinie reciteth that there is a Prouince on the limits of Ethiopia, whereas the Antes and Scorpions with other ver­min exiled the men that there did inha­bit. The Flies caused the Megarensians to depart out of their Countrie. The As­pes chased the Ethiopiās. Athenor wri­teth that honie Bées and other flies cha­sed out of a towne all the inhabitantes thereof, & made their hiues in their hou­ses. What witnesse of our humaine in­firmitie is here declared in al these thin­ges? O what discipline or schoole is this, for to teach man to know himselfe? what a maruell of the powre of God is thys toward his creatures? of whom the iud­gementes are so terrible and fearfull, that as soone as man thinketh to spread out his horns, or to rise against his god, he can so well at the first bridle and pull down his boldnesse and proude lookes, & so tame him, that not onely he doth send Heraulds and forerūners of his wrath, [Page] war, famine & pestilence, but in abun­ding, there is neither element, nor other brutish creature, but that séeketh his de­caye, euen to the little beasts, which are as ministers and executors of his diuine iustice, y^e which is manifest, not only by the witnessing of y^e Heathen, but also by holie Scripture, when that the Frogs & Grashoppers did forsake their places,Exod. 8. & 9. Cap. for to ascende and come vp to the cham­bers, and euen to the bed of the obstinate Pharao. We haue here before shewed a straunge philosophie of the miserie of man. For if man were of yron, or as hard as a Diamond, it is maruel howe he can endure the one halfe of his life, without being brused and broken, séeing the paynes, anguishes, trauels and pas­sions, that it behoueth him at all times to sustain. Notwithstanding, what mis­fortune so euer happē him, what charge or burthen y^• nature doth lay vpon him, yet he can not, nor wil not hūble himself vnder y^• mighty hand of God for to cary his yoke, nor yet to know himselfe to be [Page] as he is. Therefore by good right doeth the Lord God reproue him by his Pro­phet, that he hath the forehead of brasse,Esay. 4. and the necke of yron, the which things being yll vnderstanded of Plato and of Plinie, séeing the great gulfe of miseries wherein man is plunged in, euen from his birth, to his graue, hathe called na­ture cruell and a vsuresse, the whiche causeth so many interests to be payd to man, of his excellency and dignitie, that they haue esteemed y^e brute beastes more happier than man, but both the one and the other vnder this name of nature haue chalenged or complayned on God of vniustice and crueltie. But to proue the contrary, all the euils and this sea of miserie, wherewith man is charged, cō ­meth not of the hatred of God, but of the malice and corruption of man who is the very Author of all his afflictions and calamities, for thinking to be equal with his God, he hath begonne to fal frō his noblenesse, and to efface the ymage of God grauen in him, and to chaunge [Page] it to the likenesse of a Diuell, and ther­fore is happened to him that which the Prophet Dauid sayth,Psal. 49. God hath called man to honor, yet he doeth not consider it, and therefore is compared to the bea­stes that perish. Here you may sée that his proudnesse, arrogancie and bolde­nesse, hath bene the cause of all the sores and maledictions of humaine kind. For yf it had not bene for the ambition and desier to be great (of the first man) we had bene as the Aungels in heauen, such as we shall be at the resurrection, and crowned with honor and glorie. And yet this is little, as touching the paines and afflictions before mencioned, which are as a leaning stock to our bodies, but the diseases of the spirite is much worse, the which are muche more perillous than the afflictions of the bodie. For those of the bodie, sayth Plutarchus, do manifest and shew out of themselues, eyther by the yll colour of the face, or by the mo­uing of the thumbe, or els by some other meanes or griefe, and beyng knowen, [Page] the remedies are incontinēt sought for.Man af­flicted by the mala­dies of the spirite. But as touching the maladies of the spirite, he that is sicke, cannot iudge by signes or otherwise his griefe, for it is in the spirite, who can then giue iudge­ment? & therfore the pacient not know­ing his disease, séeketh not also for re­medie. Furthermore there is a greater abuse, for those that haue their bodies afflicted, we call them by the name of sicke, the which doth torment them, as if they were persecuted with a fransie, we name them franticke: if they be pai­ned in their ioyntes, we saye they haue the Gout: if they shake, we say they haue the Palsey. But O immortall God we do the contrarie to the afflicted spirites, for those that are wrathfull, burne in their passion: those that wound one and kill another, we call them hardie and strong, & we say that they esteme much honor and commendation: they that vio­late women and virgins, we call that bearing of loue: those that are proude, and that séeke by all vnlawfull meanes [Page] to climbe vp to high dignities, we name them graue, honorable, men of good de­meanor and ripe iudgement: those that are couetous, and that become riche in short times, & that beguile their neigh­bor by many subtilties & inuētions, we call this good husbandrie, & so forth euen of al the rest. Here you may sée how that we cloke all these things. Here you may sée that this shadowing or cloking of vice vnder y^e mantell of vertue, is cause of so many euils and mischiefes, as con­tinually happen and fall vpon vs, ma­king by the onely name, worthie of ho­nor, the things that merite blame and dishonor, of the whiche the most part of humaine spirits at this day are tormen­ted and vexed, as we haue done those of the bodie: what eloquence or dignitie of worde might satisfice? what maiestie of sentences might comprehende them? for seeing that the worlde wherein we are, is at this daye drowned in so manie kindes of vices, that it séemeth to be pro­perly, the sinke whereas all the wicked­nesse [Page] of the former age hath bene emp­tied and poured. Beginne we of coue­tousnesse, who is it that euer saw it dée­per rooted in all estates of the world, thā at this present? but what other thing are these Cities, Common welths, Prouin­ces and kingdomes of this world, (if we will well consider it) but verie shoppes and storehouses of auarice & couetous­nesse?Esay. 2. This is the season that the Pro­phet Esay speaketh of,Against couetous­nesse. their land is full of siluer and golde, neither is there anye ende of their treasure. This is the world that y^e Prophet did foreshew, they ioyne house to house,Esay. 5. and lande to lande, as thoughe they themselues woulde alone dwell vpon the earth. And of this pestilēt roote of couetousuesse procedeth as from their liuely Welspring, an infinit num­ber of euils that are poured out on the earth, and spred through all the partes of the world. Of the original of the most parte of warres, of the great effusion of bloud, with the which the earth is ouer­flowen, of the murthers, treasons, sacri­ledges, [Page] thefts, pilfreys, vsuries, fraudes, forswearings, the corruption of witnes­ses, peruerting of iudgementes, from thence the subtilties and practises pro­céede, in corrupting one and poysoning another, from thence the immoralitie and lingring of proces do procede: to be short, from thence commeth all kinde of corruption and euill, and neuerthelesse, the vice and sinne of men are so famili­ar, that there can scant be found any e­state, but that therewith is polluted. Al­so the Ecclesiasticall sort, Iudas, and Simon Magus sowed the firste séede therof, the which hath so fructified since, that many others haue tasted and felt therof. At such time as the Church was poore, néedye, persecuted and scattered by the Tyrants and Infidels, and that it was gouerned by poore fishermen, they nourished these poore, and suffered not that anye one shoulde want. But nowe that it is at the highest degrée of riches, and that it is gouerned by the greate Prelates, she hath no more care for the [Page] members of Iesus Christ, by such sorte, that now we may sée the stréetes full of poore beggars, bare, naked, all clad with pouertie, wyth an infinite number of banished women, and driuen out of their countries, by the insurrection of wars, bearing their children in their armes. And in the meane time these Prelates kéepe close the benefit of him that was crucified for them, and are intertayned in their pomp and deliciousnesse, the o­ther sorte doe kéepe it, and hourde it vp with suche curiositie, that they make it their God, and will rather let a poore bo­die die at their gates, than to refreshe him with a cup of water, in such sorte that I am ashamed to shew or declare a historie almost monstrous, of the coue­tousnesse of an Italian Prelate,The mō ­strous co­uetousnes of a Pre­late. named Angelot, which was a Cardinall, for he was so empoisoned with this cursed poi­son of auarice, that when the horskepers had giuen toward the night Otes to his horses, he woulde come into the stable by a priuy way alone, and without light [Page] to steale or take awaye the Otes & Pro­uander from his owne horses, and so continued manie nightes, till the horse­keper perceiuing his horses waxe leane did hyde himselfe in the stable, and ta­king my Lord with the maner, did giue him so many strokes with y^e Hay forke, that he was faine to beare him into hys Chamber, for condigne or iust recom­pence of his wicked and burning coue­tousnesse. The which should séeme to be a fable and ridiculous, but that Philel­pheus and Iouian Pontanus in his booke of Liberality, and many other sage wri­ters make mention. Behold the fruits, beholde the rewardes of thys cursed ri­ches, the whiche is gathered togither with many sharpe & bitter cares, and is kept with continual feare, & then is left with many sighes & teares: of the which the auncient Romaines shoulde be good and manifest witnesses, if we woulde bring in their Authors, the which when that their Common weale was gouer­ned by poore rulers, it hath always pros­pered, [Page] but since that she was swelled & puffed vp by the victories of hir Prede­cessors, as of the destruction of Corinth, of Achaia, of Antioche, of Fraunce, of Greece, of Italie, of Egypt & of Spaine, their Empire began to declyne: for their victories, prayes and spoyles, were the corrupting of good maners, and of their auncient institution & discipline, the occasion & original of cruel warres, for that that coulde not be ouercommed by violence and force of Armes, was vā ­quished by lecherie and superfluitie, in such sort that their riches are reuenged against themselues, and to them is hap­pened as to a clothe that engendreth his Moth, and to the corne that engendreth wormes that deuour it. The which the great King Salomon hauing well consi­dered in himselfe, when that he had hea­ped and gathered togither so much trea­sure, that his riches excéeded the glory of all other Kings of the Earth, and that he had proued the benefits that procéede of the goods of this worlde, he left vs his [Page] iudgement and aduise by writing, as followeth:Eccle. I (sayth he) made gorgeous, faire works, and builded me houses, and planted Vineyardes, I made me Or­chardes and Gardens of pleasure, and planted trées in thē of all maner fruits, I made Pooles of water to water the gréene and fruitfull trées withall, I bought seruants and Maidens and had a great houshold, as for cattel and shéepe I haue more substance of them than all they that were before me in Ierusalem, I gathered siluer and golde togither, e­uen a treasure of Kings and Landes, I prouided me singers and women which could play of Instruments to make mē mirth and pastime, I gat me Psalteries and songs of Musicke, and I was grea­ter and in more worshippe than all my predecessors in Ierusalem, this my hart reioyced in all that I did, and this was the porcion of all my trauell. And when I considered all the works that my hād had wrought, & all the labor that I had taken therein, loe all was but vanitie [Page] and variation of minde, and nothing of any value vnder the Sunne. Harken now what the Prophet Baruch sayeth, whome we shall finde to be a more shar­per Surgion against those that are so affectioned in their pompes and riches: Where are (sayth he) the Princes of the Heathen become,Baruch. 3. and such as ruled the beastes on earth, they that had their pa­stime with the Fowles of the ayre, they that hoorded vp siluer and golde (where­in men trust so much) and made no end of their gathering, what is become of them that coyned siluer and were so carefull, and coulde not bring their workes to passe, they be rooted oute and gone down to hel, & other men are come vp in their steades. Leaue we therefore these old couetous mē, ydolaters of their treasures, with the Patrocleus of Aristo­phanus, the Pigmalion of Virgil, the Polymnestor of Properceus, the Galeran of Martiall, with the couetous rich man mēcioned in holie Scripture: knowing that the spirites of men which of nature [Page] are diuine and celestiall, hath no porciō with golde and siluer, which is no other thing but the very mucke of the earth.

Let vs speake nowe of another vice which is called Enuie, the which as A­ristippus doth affirme, is next parent to the former,Enuy a ma­ladie of the spirite. as the mother and the daughter, for the one engendreth the other. Howe manye afflicted soules are there with this maladie. The season is nowe come, that all y^• world is no other thing, than a verie place of enuious, it is the most auncientest and eldest of all, and notwithstanding it is the most practise of our age, and séemeth to returne to his first infancie, the experience of the firste age was in Adam and the Serpent, in Abel and Caine, in Iacob and Esau, in Ioseph and his brethren, in Saul and Dauid, in Achitophell and Thusi, in A­man and Mardocheus, the whiche pur­sued not one another for the riches that they had, but for the enuy y^t the one bare to the other, but that was little to that which daily is put in vre amōg the chri­stians [Page] for our worlde is so farre out of square, that if there might be found one man amongst vs, that had the bewtie of Absalon, the strength of Sampson, the wisedome of Salomon, the agilitie of A­zacl, the riches of Cressus, the liberalitie of Alexander, the vigor and dexteritie of Hector, the eloquence of Homer, the for­tune of Augustus, the iustice of Traia­nus, the zeale of Cicero, he might be as­sured that he shoulde not be orned with so many graces, as pursued of a number of enuious. And this wicked vice clea­ueth not onely to those that enioy for­tune measurably, but vnto the highest, and those that are in the highest degrée, for when they are at the moste highest degrée of Fortunes wheele, and when they thinke to be in peaceable possession of the fauor of Kings and of Princes, in the meane time the enimie shal conspire their death, and cause them to be disday­ued: and therefore the wise Emperour Marcus Aurelius saide that Enuie was a Serpent so enuenimed, that there [Page] was neuer mortall among the mortals, but that of hir teeth haue bene bitten, of hir clawes haue bene scratched, troden vnder hir féete: and empoisoned with hir poysō, I haue red (saith he) many bookes, Gréekes, Latines, Hebrues & Chaldeys, I haue conferred with many wise men for to finde a remedie against the enui­ous man, and for all this, I haue founde no other meanes for to auoyde Enuie, but to auoyd fortune being prosperous, the reasō is, for that we are the children of Enuy, being born in Enuie, & he that leaueth most goods, leaueth most Enuie, & for this cause the Elders coūselled the rich y^• they shoulde not kepe them neare the poore, and the poore that they shoulde not dwell neare the rich, for of the riches of y^• riche groweth vp the séede of Enuie of the poore. I might here also make ā long narration of the ambitiō and pride that reigneth this day amongst vs,Ambition a maladie of the spi­rite. for who euer sawe the excessiue pompes in all estates, as we sée at this present, so that we may well name our worlde, a [Page] worlde of Sattin, of Veluet, of Purple, and of Silke, of the whiche we take so much paine to decke this carin carcasse so curiously, and in the meane time we care not nor kéepe no count if our poore Soule remain foule and ful of sores and woundes, and rent by a great many of enormious and haynous sinnes, with y^e which it is compassed, but let vs beware after all these things that that happen not to vs which the Prophete did write against the women of Ierusalem, who after he had reproned their pryde, their hie lookes vnshamefast, the mouing or rowling of their eyes, their rier of their heades, the measure of their goings, foo­tings or trippings, their chayns, Iuels, bracelets, girdels, eare rings & other fa­ciōs of their attier by too much vain glo­rie. It shal happen to you, saith the Lord of hostes, that in steade of perfumes and swéete smell, you shall haue stinke, in steade of a girdle, a rope, in steade of curled haire, baldnesse, and the fayrest yong men amōg you shal passe thorow y^e [Page] edge of the sword, & the strongest & har­diest shalbe slain and die in the warres.

We may also adde another affliction of the spirite to the former which is na­med Loue,Loue is counted a­mong the most grie­uous mala­dies of the spirite. but so contagious that al the estates of the worlde doe féele it, an euil so pestilent and venemous, that it plun­geth and intermedleth among all ages indifferently, as all the diuels doe amōg all the Elementes without excepting persons or qualitie of olde or yong, foo­lishe or discrete, of féeble or strong. And the greatest pain in this maladie is that they become mad and out of their wits, if they be not wel treated and medicined at the first. And therefore it is that Pau­lus Aeginetaus in his thirde booke ordei­ned to al those that are persecuted of this furor of euill, a rule howe to liue. The which Ompercleus following the coūsel of Plato, ordained also who made two kindes of furies, of the whiche he called one in Gréeke Exotikon, whych signifi­eth in Latine Amatorium, and in Eng­lishe Loue. I haue séene those opened, [Page] that haue died of this maladie, that had their bowels shronke, their poore heart all burned, their Liuer and Lightes all vades and consumed, their Braines en­domaged, and I thynke that their poore soule was burned by the vehement and excessiue heate that they did indure, whē that the rage of Loue had ouercomme them, and euen as the cure of this ma­ladie is vncurable, also the originall is very doubtful to those that haue writtē. The Phisitions saye, that this rage of Loue that presseth so sore, and that is spred through the worlde, proceedeth of the correspondent qualitie of bloude, and that the complectiō engendreth the same mutuall loue: the Astrologians in like maner saye that Loue proceadeth when that two metting haue one mind, or that they be chaunged in some other constellation, for they be constrained to loue togither. Other Philosophers haue saide, that when we cast our sight vpon that which we desire, sodenly certaine spirits that are engendred of the moste [Page] perfectest part of bloud, proceding from the heart of the partie which we do loue, and promptly ascendeth euen vp to the eyes, and afterwarde conuerteth into vapors inuisible, and entreth into oure eyes, which are bent to receyue them, euen so as in looking in a glasse there re­mayneth therein some spotte by brea­thing, and so from the eyes it penetra­teth to the heart, and so by littell and little it spreadeth all about, and therfore the miserable Louer being drawen to, by the new spirites, the which desire al­wayes to ioine and drawe neare, with their principall and natural habitation, is constreyned to mourne and lament his lost libertie. Others after that they had studied all that euer they could ther­in, and not finding the spring and origi­nall of this so furious an euil, haue said that Loue was one, I know not what, that came I know not how, and burned I know not how, a thing verie certaine and true, for he that doeth consider, the iestes, facions of doing, countenances, [Page] furies and Eclipses of these poore passio­ned, he woulde confesse, that he neuer sawe a more straunger Metamorphosie, or spectacle more ridiculous, sodenlye you shall sée them drowned in teares, making the aire to sounde with their cries, sighes, plaints, murmurings and imprecations, another time you shall sée them colde, frozen, & in a traunce, their faces pale and chaunged, other times, if y^• they haue had any good lucke, or other gentle entertainment of the thing that they loue,Gestes and countenan­ces ridicu­lous of Lo­uers. you shall see thē gay, chearfull and pleasant, so that you woulde iudge that they were chaūged into some other forme, somtimes they loue to be solitary and seeke secrete places, to speake and reason with themselues, and sometimes ye shall see them passe fiue or six times a day through a streat, for to spie whether that they maye haue any looke of the eye of hir whom they loue, and in the mean time the poore Pages and Verlets haue their legs brused with running, their armes broken with rubbing, spunging, [Page] brushing, trimming and making clean the Gentleman. And if that he chaunce to haue any sparke of ielosie, then they begin to rage and the pacientes are in extréeme perill, the force and violence of the maladie striueth against the nature, it is a Catharre that burneth thē, there is no liue nor sensible part within them but that is grieued, and then if they be fearfull, they become franticke and har­die, there is neither Arte, inuētion, craft or conspiracie, but that cōmeth out: they be come Lycantropes and goe all the night like raging wolues. And although the maladie of it selfe is fantasticall y­nough, yet according to the humor that she méeteth, she worketh maruellous ef­fectes, for if the Louer be poore, there is no office of humanitie, but that he shew­eth it, euen to sacrifice, and to put him selfe in peril, if néede shall require. If he be rich, his purse (as the Gréekes terme it) is tied with a Léeke blade, thoughe he be couetous, he becōmeth then prodigal, there is no bagge that he will spare to [Page] emptye, so great is the power of this poyson, the which hath moued Plautus to say, that Loue was the first inuenter of beggerie. If the Louer be learned, & that his spirits be any thing weakned you shall sée him faigne a sea of teares, a Lake of miseries, to double hys plaintes, accuse the heauen, make an Anotomie of his hart, friese the Sōmer, burne the Winter, worshippe, playe the Idolater, wonder, to faigne Paradise, to forge Hel,Sisiphus that turned his rochet, Tantalus that died for thirst neare the vvaters, Titius, of vvhome the fami­shed Rauen deuoured his heart. counterfet Sisiphus, play Tā ­talus, feigne Titius, with a thousande other toies. And if they be minded to ex­alt y^e which they loue, then what is ther here but a bewtye, hir browes, arches, hir eyes After gemells, hir lookes, light­nings, hir mouth, Coral, hir téeth, pearls of Orient, hir breath, balme, amber, and muske, hir throte of snowe, hir necke of milke, the mountanes or dugs that she hath on hir brest, balles or apples of A­liblaster. And generally al the rest of the bodie is no other but a prodigalitie and treasure of heauen and of nature, which [Page] she hath reserued to please or agrée in al perfection to the thing that they loue. Here you maye sée howe thys cruell maladie of Loue tormenteth those that are attained of this mortall poyson, and notwithstanding, there are so manye people, Nations and Prouinces, so charged with these furious assaultes, that if there were an armie made of al y^• Louers that are in y^• world, there is no Emperor nor Monarch, but woulde be afraide to sée suche a number of fooles in a companie. And neuerthelesse this pe­stilent euill, by custome it hath got so much on humaine kinde, that there can no remedie be founde althoughe that many medicins,They that haue vvrit­ten the re­medies of Loue could not helpe themselues. Gréekes and Arabians haue employed all their wit and policie for to remedy this passion. Samocraceus, Nigideus, and Ouid haue written many great volumes of the remedie of Loue, by the whiche they shewe the remedies for others, but they can find no remedy for themselues,An exam­ple of a fu­rious Loue. for that all thrée died, pursued & destroyed, not for the harmes [Page] that they did at Rome, but for the Loues that they inuented. The Emperor Mar­cus Aurelius knowing that Faustine his wife loued a Ruffian,The furi­ous loue of Faustine, vvyfe to the Empe­ror Marcus Aurelius, the childe had the like qualities. so that she was vnpacient, and was in perill of death for y^e furious desier that she had to haue him in hir possession, assembled a great many people learned, and of al faculties and sciences, for to giùe him counsell to quench the burning heat that consumed hir by little and little. But after manye resolutions, certayne of hys Nobles counselled him to kill him whome hys wife loued, and that one should giue hir secretly of his bloud to drinke, the which was promptlye executed. This remedie was great, for hir affection was quen­ched. And yet it was not of so great effi­cacie as Iulìus Capitolin writeth, but that Comodus whome they engendred afterwardes, was bloudie and cru­ell, and was more like in conditions to the Ruffian,Entropeus in the life of Como­dus. than to the father, and also was daily conuersant with the Ruffiās, and delighted more in their companie [Page] than in the companie of others, so that it séemed that the Mothers passion was transported to the childe. But this is little to that whych I haue read in ma­nye Histories, that things are come to such desolation, that when this foolishe frensie doth take holde of vs, it rendreth vs brutish and mad, as it hath bene ma­nifestly and euidently shewed and séene in a yong Lad being of the highest kin­red in Athens, and well knowen of all the Citizens of the Citie, the which ha­uing many times beheld a faire statute of Marble very excellentlye wrought, whiche was in a publicke place of A­thens, The powre of Loue. he was so stricken with the loue of it, that he would neuer léese the sight of it, and alwayes remayned by it, em­bracing and kissing it, as if it had bene a liuing soule. And when that he was out of hir sight, he wept and lamented so pitifully, that it woulde haue moued the most constantest to pitie, and in the ende this passion got so much powre on him, & was brought to such extremitie, [Page] that he desired the Senatours to sell it him at what price they woulde, to the ende y^• he might haue it to beare about with him, the which thing they woulde not graunt, for that it was a publicke work, and that their powre or auctority extended not so far: wherefore the yong, man caused to be made a rich crowne of gold with other sumpteous ornaments, and went to the Image, set the crowne on hir heade, and decked hir with preci­ous vestimentes, and then began to call vpon hir and worshippe hir with such obstenation and partenacitie, that the commō sort were ashamed of his foolish and ridiculous loue, so that they defēded him to approch or resorte to the Image anye more, so that the yongling séeing himselfe to be depriued and kept backe from that which was more deare to him than his life, killed himselfe. For the vertue of this passion is such, that after it hath entred into the heart of men, it walketh vncurable by the most liueliest and sensible partes of the bodie, and [Page] being in ful possession of vs, she causeth an infinit number of teares and sighes to be powred oute, so that oftentimes it taketh awaye oure life. The which the great philosopher Apolonus Thianeus confirmed to the King of Babilon, There is no martyr­dome that may com­pare to Loue as A­polonus Thianeus vvitnesseth who most earnestly praied him to shewe him the most grieuous and cruellest tormēt that he might inuent by all the secretes of philosophie, for to punish and chastice a yong Gentleman whom he had found a bed with one of his damsels whiche he fauoured. The moste greatest torment, sayth the Philosopher that I can shewe thée, and inuent for to punishe him, is that thou saue his life, for thou shalt see by little and little, the burning heate of loue to get so muche on him as it hathe alredy begon, that the torment that he shall endure wil be so great that he shal not imagine nor find remedy therefore, and he shall finde himselfe so stirred and prouoked with diuers cogitations and thoughtes, that he shall burne and con­sume in this flame as y^e Butterflie doth [Page] in a candel, in such sort that his life shal be no more life, but a verie death, more crueller than if he passed throughe the hands of al the tyrants and tormenters of the worlde.Loue the corruption of youth in our time. Here is in some the cause why I haue treated at large on this passion of Loue, which is the whole de­cay of the most part of youth in our age, for haue they neuer so little set their foote or mindes on y^• pleasures of this world, they prepare themselues to loue, then youth, libertie, and riches, are the worst things in this world, and in those wic­ked occupations they lead without fruit the best part of their life. Thē after this great sea of miseries with the which mā is as it were ouerwhelmed euē from hisDiscourse of the mi­serie of the aged. birth, age commeth on, and then when we ought to rest, the sores and dolors are renewed, we must pay the rigorous vsuries and cruell interestes of all the faults and excesse that we haue made in our life, for the heart is afflicted, the brayne is troubled, y^e spirit languisheth, the breath stinketh, the face is withered, [Page] the bodie is crooked, the nose dropping, the sight is troubled, the haires fall, the téeth are rotten,Great mu­tations in age. to be short there is al­wayes some loose nayle, and this bodie is a similitude of death, without putting in count many diseases of the spirit that age is subiect to. They are prompte to wrath, harde to appease, light of beliefe, forget oftentimes, praise their Elders, and dispraise the wise, they are sadde, melancholike, couetous, suspitious, and difficile: to be shorte, it is the retraite whereas are emptied and purged al the vices and vncleannesse of our age. The whiche being well considered by the Emperor Augustus said, that whē men had liued fiftie yeares, they ought to die or desier to be killed, bicause that till that time was the pleasure of mannes felicity, and that which is more or aboue that age passeth in sorrow and grieuous sicknes vnsupportable, death of childrē, losse of goods, to burie his friendes, su­staine processe, paye debtes, and in other infinit trauels, so that it were better to [Page] haue the eyes closed wayting for theyr graue, than to behold these things with their eyes in this crooked age, the which thing the Prophet foreséeing, cried out to God, saying, Lorde withdraw not thy hand from me when I am olde, or when that I am assailed of age. We haue now to my iudgement sufficientlye shewed the maledictions and miseries wherein man is wrapped whilst he playeth his Tragedie in the circle of this world, but if his entrie be maruellous, miserable, difficill, and perilous, no doubt his issue and departing is not lesse, and whereas we haue shewed manye straunge chil­dings and dreadfull: so is there also straunge sortes of death muche more horrible and wonderfull.The miseri­es of death. This therfore is the laste seale and laste confirmation of all the actes & déedes of the infelicitie of oure life: after that man hath sighed and sorrowed all hys lyfe vnder the vnsupportable déedes & heauie burthens of all his euilles, he is forced to liue always in feare, waiting for death, and [Page] oftentimes by vncredible torments. At the whiche the greate Doctor Sainct Augustine maruelling,August. Soli loquic­rum the first booke, cha. 2. setteth forth his complaint to God after this sorte, O Lord after we haue sustained so manye miseries and afflictiōs, the vntollerable stroke of death commeth, that rauisheth thy creatures by infinite wayes and meanes, some he ouercommeth with Feuers or Agues, others by some extréeme dolor, an other by hunger, an other by thirst, other by fier, others by water, others by iron, others by poison, others by feare, others are smothered, others are choked, others are torne of wilde beasts, others deuoured of foules of the ayre, others are made meate for fishes, and others for wormes, and for al this man knoweth not his end, & when he thinketh himselfe moste at rest, he fal­leth and perissheth. It is therefore the most dreadfullest of all dreadfull, y^e most terriblest of all terrible when that the bodie separateth frō the soule: but what spectacle is it to sée in a bed him that is [Page] oppressed with the pangs of death, what shaking,A straunge spectacle to see man at the point of death. what feare, what alteration and chaunging in all the bandes of na­ture, the féete become colde, y^• face pale, the eyes bollow, the lips and the mouth to retire, the thombe to deminishe, the tongue waxeth blacke, the téeth doe close, the breath faileth, the sweate colde appeareth by violence of the sickenesse, which is a certain token that nature is ouercome. Then whē it commeth to the last gaspe, or at the sorrowful departure that the soule maketh frō his habitacle, all the vessels and bandes of nature are broken, withoute putting in count the furious assaultes that the diuelles and wicked spirites reare against vs when y^• they are assured of our end,Violent temptatì­ons in death. for there is no inuention, craft, cōspiracy or practise but that is then wrought for to bring vs into a presumption to haue liued well, & that oure might be fixed vpon that false opinion, and not on the mercie of Iesus Christ, or els laying before vs an infinit number of grieuous and enormeous [Page] sinnes that we haue committed in oure life time, to the ende to bring vs in mis­trust or dispaire of Gods mercie, it is the howre, the moment and the poynt whereas Sathan doeth his powre to striue against God, for to let or hinder the saluation of mankinde: and he is more busier in these latter days for that he knoweth that his time is but short, & that the end of his kingdom is at hād, & therfore he is the more enflamed, so that he doth practise that which he did when he knew that our Sauiour Iesus Christ drue neare to the possessed of diuels, for he neuer rageth and tormenteth those more cruelly, whō he doth possesse, than when he knoweth that he muste depart. For this cause it was,2. Kings. 28. cha. that the Prophet Dauid did lament for his sonne Absalon so bitterlye, saying, I woulde that I had died for thée my childe, knowing that he was wrapped with an infinite nūber of grieuous and enormious vices and sinnes. Now when that they haue passed that path, and disgested this peare of an­guishe, [Page] where is become their glorie, where are their pomps and triumphes, where are now their volupteousnes and wantonnesse, where are their maiesties, their excellencies and holinesse: they are vanished as the shadow, sayth the Psal. It is chaunced to them as to the garmēt that the wormes haue eaten, and as the wooll that the Moth hath deuoured, saith the Prophet Esaye: they are become a pray for wormes and serpents. But let vs behold man when he is in his graue, who euer saw a monster more hideous, what is there more horribe and vile thā the deade creature, behold the holynesse, excellencie, maiestie and dignitiy, coue­red with a lumpe of earth, here is hym that was cherished, reuerenced and ho­noured, euen to kisse his féete & hands, yet notwithstanding by a sodaine mu­tation he is become so abhominable, that all the faire and bewtifull Tombes of Marble and Aliblaster, all the faire sta­tutes or Images, Epitaphes and other funerall pompes, can not so well cloke [Page] nor hide them, but that it is well knowē that it is no other thing but a vile and stinking carin carcasse, and to them it happeneth as Salomon writeth in his Wisedome, what hath it profited them, sayth he, the pride and great abundance of riches, all these things are passed as a shadow, or as the Arrowe that is shot to the white, or as the smoke that is dis­persed with the wind, or as the remem­brance of an host that passeth by that is lodged for one day. Let vs leaue therfore this bodie sléeping and resting in the earth as in a bed for a season, this is, the moste doubtfullest and perilloust acte of all the humaine tragedie. It is that which Dauid feared so muche, that he prayed God not to enter into iudgemēt with his seruaunt.The miserie of hu­maine cretures vvh that God shal appe in iudge­ment. It behoueth that this creature appeare before the iudgement seate of God with such a terrour to those that consider it well, that there is no member but shaketh, it is the daye that the Prophet Esaye speaketh of, that the Lorde will come like a tempest, euerye [Page] ones heart shall fayle them,Esay. 13. and all the world astonied, and then the paines shal be like the paine of a woman that tra­uelleth, this is the daye of the Lorde, he shall come as one full of wrath and in­dignation for to make the earth desert, and roote out from thence the sinners, the Sunne shall be darkened, and the Planets shal bring forth no more light, I will trouble (sayth he) the firmament, and the earth shal moue out of his place bicause of the wroth & indignation of the Lord God. Heare also y^e words of our sa­uiour Iesus Christ in Sainct Mathew, euen as the lightning that riseth in the East and extendeth to the West, so shal the comming of the sonne of man be, the tribulation then shall be so great, as the like hath not bene since the beginning of the worlde vntill now, nor neuer shal be the like, the Sunne shall be darkned, and the Moone shall giue no more light, the starres shall fall from Heauen, and the waues of the sea shall rage, and men shalbe amased with feare, and y^• powres [Page] of Heauen shall moue. Wo shall be in those dayes to them that are with child, and to them that giue sucke, but as the time of Noe was, so shall the comming of the sonne of mā be, for as in the dayes before the floud, they did eate and drink, marry and were married, euen vnto the daye that Noe entred into the Arke, and knewe nothing till the floud came and tooke them all away, so shall the cōming of the sonne of man be, and then shall al kindreds of the earth mourne, and shall hide themselues in dennes and caues in the mountains, and shal say vnto them, fall vpon vs, and hide vs from the face of him that sitteth on the throne.

Blow out the trumpet (saith the Pro­phet Ioell)Ioel. 2. cha that all such as dwell in the lande may tremble at it, for the daye of the Lord commeth, and is hard at hand, a darke daye, a glouming day, a cloudie day, yea and a stormie daye, before him shalbe a consuming fier, and behind him a burning flame. His throne (sayth Da­uiell) was like the firie flame,Dan. 7. cha and hys [Page] whéeles as the burning fier, there drew forth a fierie streame and went out from him, and then after this deuine executiō of the wrathe and indignation of God, the dead that are in their graues, sepul­chers, tombes and monuments, vnder­standing his voyce, [...]phraim [...]nd his [...]rayers. shall rise and come forth, the bones and other partes shall finde out their ioints, for to ioine againe togither with the bodie that the earth hath putrified and corrupted. All those that the beastes and other birdes of the aire haue deuoured, all those that the sea hath swallowed vp, all those that are in­uapored in the ayre, all those that the fier hath consumed shalbe reduced & brought to their former state. All the bloude that the théeues, pyrats, murtherers, tyrants and false Iudges haue vniustly shedde, shall then appeare before the maiestie of God, so that there shall not one drop of bloud be lost from the time of Abell that was the first murthered of men, vntill the last of all, so that there shall not one haire perishe. And if that were a cruell [Page] spectacle or sight, to sée the beastes for­sake the earth, which is their proper ele­ment, flying the wrath and displeasure of God, and to enter into the Arche of Noe. How much more fearfull & dread­full ought it to be to miserable sinners, to appeare before the deuine Iudge, where the bookes shall be opened, that is to say the enormious sinnes and offēces of our poore consciences shalbe then ma­nifested and put in euidence.The terror of Gods iudgement, the vvhich S. Ierome feared so much, that he thought alvvays to vnderstand this voyce, arise ye dead and come to your iudgement. If that the vale of the temple did breake, the earth quake, the sunne darken and chaunge his Eclipse, for the wrong and iniurie that was done to Iesus Christ being on the crosse, althoughe in nothing he did offend, what countenance may poore sin­ners holde that haue offended him, blas­phemed, and prouoked him diuers and innumerable times. If the only sight of an Aungell did so effray, that we could not suffer him as Sainct Iohn doth wit­nesse, who bicause he coulde not endure his brightnesse, fell downe as dead. And Esay was constreined to say, after the [Page] Angell had appeared to him that all the bands of his body was loosed with feare.Apoc. 1. Also the childrē of Israell had such great feare that they were constreyned to say to Moyses, speake thou to vs, and we wil heare thée, for we cannot abide this voice that commeth from Heauen,Exodus. 20. the which maketh vs almost die for feare, (and yet the Aungell spake vnto them gracious­ly.) Howe shall then we poore sinners en­dure or abide the voice and shining of Gods Maiestie, being in his throne of glory,Esay. 1. cha. when he shal say that which Esay speaketh. Ah, I must ease me of my ene­mies, & auenge me on my aduersaries, my wrath shalbe accomplished, and my furie shal cease. They shall know that I which am the Lorde haue spoken in my zeale,Ezech. 5. and haue ceased my furie. I wyll come vpon them as a she Beare that is robbed of all hir whelpes,Osee. 13. and I will breake the stubborne heart of theirs. I haue helde my peace long and kept si­lence. But beholde I will crie out as a woman that trauelleth, I will wast and [Page] strial,The prayse of man by the vvise men of E­gypt. serue and obey. Of the which, cer­taine wise men of Egypt haue presumed to call man God in earth, deuine and ce­lestiall messenger of the Gods, Lorde of things inferior, familier of superior, and finally miracle of nature, and that more is, for the better shewing of the noble­nesse of man, sometimes his God des­cendeth into him doyng miracles which of himself he could not doe: as we haue red in histories of Clazonmeus and of Aristeus, the which oftentimes departed out of their bodies and went here and there, and being returned, they shewed things vncredible, the whiche after­wards by experience was founde true. As one Cornelius a priest sacred being at Padoua, during y^• war betweene Cae­sar and Pompel, was so rauished that he counted all the order of y^e battell bet­ter than those that were present. Like­wise Apolonius being in Ephesus sawe and shewed that which happened to Ne­ro in Rome: Socrates was founde raui­shed talking with his spirite, not séeing [Page] nor knowing that which was done hard by him. In like maner Plato was euery day in a traunce certaine houres, in the which at the last he died. The Poets in their furie did write and shew of things more deuine and heauenly, than humain and earthly, and after that this furie had left them, and that their spirite was for­saken of this deuinitie, they vnderstoode not what they had writtē, nor the others also.A prayse of Homer. The which maye be manifested in Homer, the great Gréeke Poet, that shall serue an example for all, who al­though that frō his infancie was blind, yet notwithstanding he hath described and shewed of things so profounde and wonderfull, that some haue boldly writ­ten of him, that if all the wisedome of Poets were layde togither, it would no equall nor compare with that that shi­neth in his workes, nor he himselfe if he were aliue could make again that which he hath made. The whiche giueth vs to vnderstande that man is the verie chiefe worke of God, who if we doe wel consi­der, [Page] we shall finde that he is paynted or drawen out with another than a hu­maine pensil. The which thing the most part of y^e auncient Philosophers though they were neuer so subtill haue not knowen, or else haue bene founde so va­riable in that that concerneth his crea­tion, that there is no holde to be taken of their writings. But laying them a side as they that doe but flote and wauer in their sayings, and as they that féede vs with an infinite number of dreames and illusiōs vnder the pretexitie of their deceitfull wordes & coloured language. Who notwithstanding are constrained to wonder and maruel at the wisedome of the workmaister, if they will be equi­table Iudges, and cast their sight on the wonderfull composition of our humain bodie.An error of the Philo­sophers in that that concerneth the creatiō of man. For what is he be he neuer so ig­norāt, that féeleth not shine some marke or beame of deuinitie in a mans heade, what excellencie and beautie is there in the heade of this beast, the which is the tower and rampier of reasō and of sapi­ence, [Page] of the which as of a fountaine pro­ceadeth diuers operations of the memo­rie, the which bringeth forth so manye and diuers commodities. But who doth not maruell of the memorie? the which as Plato writeth, is the atturney that alwais remaineth within the towre, the which kéepeth and retayneth the things that sodenly passe,Descriptiō of the beau­tie of mans head. the office of whome is to cōserue in his treasures, and receyue innumerable things, yea that differ, without confounding them, but confir­ming them in their puritie, for to serue afterwarde, when that by a remēbrance that which of long time it hath concey­ued and gathered togither, and then is perceiued a knowledge of infinit things all disagréeing, the which are brought forth in such an order, that they giue no let nor mutuall trouble. But what mi­racle is there in the inexplicable subtil­tie of our eyes,A prayse of the excel­lencie of the eyes. y^e which are placed in the most highest part of the tower for to be beholders of things celestiall. The roūd­nesse of which represēteth two precious [Page] stones, to the ende that with a profound memorie it shoulde penetrate the Ima­ges of things set before shining as a glasse, and they are moueable, to the end that they might turne here and there, being not constrayned to beholde that which might displease them, and they are orned and decked with couers or liddes which are as bulwarkes for to de­fend them from euill or noyance, aboue the which are the browes made like ar­ches,A prayse of the brovves for to stop and let the sweate and other superfluities that they should not offende nor hurt them. But what specta­cle worthie of admiration doe we finde in the nose,A prayse of the nose. is it not a little wall reared for the defence of the eyes, and thoughe it be little it hath thrée offices appointed: one is to retire and loose the winde and breath:Lactantius Firmian in his booke of the praise of God. the other to smell: the other to the ende that by the holes and openings the superfluities of the braine be clen­sed and pourged, and voide as a chanell or sinke doth the filth and water. But by what maruellous ordinance are y^e lips [Page] placed, the which séeme to be ioined and knit one to another, within the which the tongue is inclosed, the which by his mouings cōuerteth y^e voyce into words, interpreteth & sheweth the intention of the spirit. But who is it that maruelleth not at this little morsell of flesh that is not aboue thrée fingars brode,A prayse of the tongue. and that is almost the least member of man, yet notwithstanding it prayseth God, and sheweth and manifesteth the beauties and perfections of that which God hath created, it disputeth of the heauen and of the earth, and of that which is contay­ned in the foure elements, notwithstan­ding, it can not alone fulfil the office of speaking,Praise and vsage of the teeth. if it haue no helpe of the téeth, the which is manifest to vs by yōg chil­dren, the which begin not to speake be­fore they haue téeth, and olde men after they haue lost them, stammer and can not bring forth their words, in such sort, that it séemeth that they are returned to their infancie, for they become childish. Furthermore (as Lactantius sayeth) he [Page] hath created the chin, and set it out after so honest a forme,Praise of the chin and of the bearde. and hath enriched it with a bearde, for to cause vs to knowe the fruitfulnesse and maturitie of the bodie, the difference of the kinde, and or­nament of the virilitie and strength. As touching the eares,Praise of the eares. they are not idell, they are placed in a place hie & eminent for to receyue the sounde that naturally is borne hie, they are open and not stop­ped, to the ende that the voyce be caried by the secret trunkes retained and staid. Also he hath caused therein ordures and vncleannesse, that the little beastes or flies that will offend the hearing, might be therein snared and taken as in Bird­lime. And yet the maruellous worke of all these partes is nothing to that which followeth, if we will consider in gene­rall all the proportion of the face, of the which dependeth two maruels: the first that among all the men the which are almost infinit, all of them do so differ in the face that among so many thousande millions of men there can not be founde [Page] two like, but that they are blemished by some markes and notes: the second that nature hath made to humain creatures in so littel a part as the face, a beautis so great,A praise of beautie as vvell of men as of vvomen. that sometimes we desier to die of our good wills, and gladly sacrifice oure selues for the beautie of some persones, and we are so stirred euen to become out of our wits, by the prickings and prouocations of this faire and beautiful face. In witnesse whereof I could bring forth an infinite number of worthy per­sonages, as well auncient as moderne, which séemed to haue spoyled the firma­ment of his most richest treasures, for to paint out all the corners of the earth, and to exalt the memorie of them and their writings, vnder the only inuocati­on of this beautie, as thoughe thereon their whole glory and honor did depend. For the beames that proceadeth of thys resplendishing beautie, penitrateth euē to the most liueliest part of the soule, and maketh there force to be felt exces­siuely to those that beholde it, the which [Page] is the cause why the poore passioned hath brought their owne desiers in serui­tude, and rendreth their poore soule mar­tyrred, obedient and handmaide,Beautie hath mo­ued many to vvrite. and al­most trāsformeth thē (if it were possible) in the same beautie that they admit and loue. Moreouer, there is another mira­cle in the face, the which although it be not aboue the greatnes of halfe a foote, notwithstanding in the least mutation or chaunging thereof appeareth the dif­ference of men, ioyfull and sorowfull, of the hardie and the fearfull, of the angry and of the pitiful, of the louer and of him that hateth, of him that liueth in hope, and he that is without hope,Ier. Cardan. of the hole and of the sicke, of the liuing and of the dead, with other infinite affections aswel of the body as of the soule. For this cause it is that this great Philosopher Trimi­gisteus, after that he had profoundlye plunged in the contemplation of hu­maine worke, cried out saying: where is the painter so wel sorting his colours that could paint these faire eyes that are [Page] the windowes of all the bodie,Most lear­nedly translated by Monsi­eur du Pre­an my friend, of vvhome I follovv the traduc­tion as faithfull. and glas­ses of the soule. Who hath formed the lippes and the mouth, and knit togither sinewes? Who hath mingled the veines like water brookes, deuided all ouer the bodie, by the which, the humor and the bloud rūning into diuers parts deweth all the members wyth his iuces and li­quors? Who hath made the bones, who hath knit and ioined them togither? the which as gardes and stayes doe retaine the thought. Who hath couered the flesh with so tender a skin, separated the fin­gars and their ioyntes one frō another? Who hath spred the largenesse of oure féete, which serueth for foundation to all the bodie? Who hath opened y^e pipes and condits? Who hath placed the sto­macke, and imprinted in the heart thys pearlesse figure? who hath wouen togi­ther the thréedes and rootes of y^e Lights, and ingraued the Liuer? Who hath gi­uen to y^e belly so large a compasse? Who is it that hath made y^• most honorablest members to sight, and the foule and fil­thie [Page] ones hid and placed out of sight. Behold (saith he) how many deuine wor­kes are shewed in one only matter, what beautie there is in euerie one of them, how they are equally compassed, and dif­fering the one from the other in their offices and actions. Whō thinkest thou hath so formed and made them? who is the father and the mother, only God in­uisible. It séemeth now that we haue suf­ficientlye treated of humaine nature, there resteth nowe for the perfection of mans honor to shew that there is no Art nor science but that men haue excelled eche one in their degrée, more or lesse ac­cording to the influēces and fauors that hath bene giuen them from heauen. I will leaue to speake here of liberall Arts and generally of all disciplines, for to euitate prolixitie, the originall and in­uentiō of which is due to man,The Au­thor pray­seth man by force of armes. as to his souereigne Author. I will therfore shew certaine particuler things. In euery one of which I will expresse what the digni­tie and subtillitie of man is. How won­derful [Page] should séeme to vs the magnami­tie and noble heart of Alexander, the which in his yong and tender yeares la­mēted and wept bitterly, knowing that his father Philip had obtained victorie of diuers and sundrie battels, and af­ter that he was demaunded of his go­uernors from whence proceaded those teares, with y^e which his face was dewed and couered: for feare (saide he) that I haue, that my father hauing ouercomed so manye people and nations, there is nothing left for me wherein I mightThe noble heart of A­lexander in his youth exercise this excessiue desier that I haue to fight and become partaker of his glo­rie. O what Oracle of generositie and manly courage was there in this childe, to whome afterwarde fortune succeded according to his desier, for before he was come to the age of thirtie yeares he had subdued so many Nations, that he foūd no more that did resist him in the world, so that he was constreyned to go or tra­uell to the furthermost parts of Affrica by the desertes to trie his strength a­gainst [Page] wilde and brute beastes, for to o­uercome them aswell as men: the Hi­storiographes write of him, that he sée­ing himselfe Monarche of all the world, remembring with himselfe that he hadAlexander caused the earth to be digged to vvarre a­gainst the Antipodes heard say of a Philosopher named De­mocrites, that there was many worlds, for the which cause he caused many Pi­oners and Artificers to dig and vnder­mine the ground, to the end that if there were anye other people founde, they might be brought vnder his obedience. Likewise of Iulius Caesar & Pompei one of the which beside the victories of ciuill warres,A prayse o Caesar and Pompei. faught fiftie times in battell ranged and flew aleuen hundreth fowre score and twelue thousād men: the other besides nine hundreth and fortie shippes that he had taken on the sea, conquered and had victory of eight hundreth seuen­tie six townes from the Alpes to the fur­thermost parte of Spaine.A prayse Sergius al most vnc [...] dible. Let vs not leaue out the glorie of Marcus Sergius, who after he had lost his right hand, and receyued .xxiij. wounds at diuerse times, [Page] fought afterwarde foure sundrie times with his left hande, and after he coulde not help himself therewith, he made him an hande of Iron, with the whiche he fought at the stege before Cremona, de­fended Playsance, and tooke twelue pla­ces in Gaule. Let vs leaue speaking of armes, and come to Artes and sciences, that séeme to vs more vile and abiect, as painting, caruing, grauing, and such like.The excel­encie of man in [...]ainting. Xeuxis a most excellent Painter counterfetted by his Arte a vine full of Grapes, so subtillye wrought that the Birdes that did flie in the ayre, woulde strike against it thinking there to finde foode. And Appelles for the space of ten yeares employed al his wit and pollicie, to paint an Image of Venus, the which was endewed with so excellent beautie that the yong men that stoode beholding of it became amorous, as though it had bene some liue Image, and therefore by publicke edict he was charged to kéepe it secret, for feare to allure the youth to corruptiō. Who is it that doth not mar­uell [Page] of that whiche Pausanias a Greeke Historiographe writeth to haue bene formed & made in Heraclia a Prouince of Peloponensia by a certaine artificer,The mar­uellous cunning of a man in facioning a brasen horse. the which composed a brasen Horse, ha­uing the tayle cut and deformed, and all the other parts of the bodie perfect, to y^e which notwithstanding the other horses sought to ioyne and couple with such an ardent desier and affection, that they brake oftentimes their houes with their often riding and horsing of him, and for all that they were beaten and driuen a way, yet woulde they not from thence, but they would rage as if they had foūd a proude Mare. But what secret thing, what charme or what hid vertue was there therein, which could constrain and force the brutish beasts to obey and loue a trunke of mettell voyde of féeling or vnderstanding. Plutarch exalting the excellencie of man, writeth that Archi­medes did draw with one hand and with one corde or rope ouerthwart the mar­ket place of Siracusa, a great ship fraigh­ted [Page] with merchandise, as if it had bene a horse that had bene led by the neck, and all by the science of Methmaticke, the which Baptist Leon one of the expertest men in our time, assured to doen, if anye great Lorde woulde furnish the thing. What miracle in nature may be found more greater than this deuise of glasse that Sabot King of the Persians caused to be made? the which was so great, that he was set in a corner of the same as in the sphere or compasse of the earth, sée­ing vnder his féete the cloudes & starres that did rise and lie downe, in such sorte that thoughe he was mortall, he séemed to be aboue the heigth and expectation of immortality. What thing more grea­ter and deuiner maye be more maruel­lous, speciallye in a King that ruled all the worlde,Cardanus. who after the possession of the earth and the Sea, he séemed to possesse the cloudes, the heauen and the habitatiō of God.A vvon­derfull I­mage. But what Deitie or celestiall spirite might be hid in the sta­tute or Image of Memon, the whiche [Page] euery time and neuerthelesse man was the Author or Inuenter as Strabo, and Cornelius Tacitus sheweth. Who is it that woulde not be rauished in admi­ration, if at any time he haue read that whiche the Histories make mention of a Doue of wood,Deuinitie of the spirit of certaine men. composed by Archi­tas, being made by certain figures and proportions of Mathmaticke, did flie in the ayre as other birdes: at the admira­tion of which, Albert forged a brasen heade, the which coulde speake plainely as if it had bene a liuing soule enclosed therein. As in like case Galen an Author worthie of credēce writeth, that Archi­medes forged a glasse that burned in the Sea the ships of his enimies, the which thing shoulde not seeme to vs straunge nor vncredible to those that haue seene a Spanyarde which was in our time, so cunning in the composition of glasses, that he made some representing twoStraunge glasses. phisnomies or faces, the one aliue, the other dead togither, a thing so straunge to contemplate, that many sage Philo­sophers [Page] not finding nor knowing y^• rea­son could no otherwise chuse but won­der at the worke and at the workemai­ster. There hath bene others as Ptolo­meus maketh mention that haue made such straunge glasses that in looking therein there woulde appeare so manye faces as there be houres in a day. Besi­des an infinite number of other things of mans inuention, the whiche for pro­lixitie I leaue out. We haue sufficiently shewed (to my iudgement) y^• things most notable, that the antiquitie hath had in great admiration in noble and cunning personages, the which by their doings haue shewed with what deuinitie and excellencie of spirite man is endued. Now there resteth in few words to shew and make mētion of things of our time and of late yeares, to the ende that not leauing their glorie buried in the dark­nesse of obliuion, we giue not all the ad­uantage and preheminence to others. A­mong all the workes and doyngs of our Elders and Auncesters, I can finde no­thing [Page] that maye equall or compare to the wonderfull Inuention,A prayse of the inuen­tion of men of our time. Vtilitie and Dignitie of Printing, the which sur­mounteth all that the Antiquitie maye conceyue or imagine of excellent, knowing that it conserueth and kéepeth all the conceptions of our soules, it is the treasurer that immortaliseth the monuments of our spirites, and eterni­seth worlde without end, and also brin­geth to light the fruites of oure labors, and although somewhat maye be added to all other Artes and humaine inuen­tions, yet this alone hath entred with such good hap and perfection into this worlde, that there cannot be added nor deminished any thing that doth not ren­der it defectious and deformed: these ef­fectes, are so maruellous, and executed with such celeritie and diligence, that one mā alone in one day wil Print more letters, than the most promptest Scribe or Scriuiner may write with pen in the space of one Moneth, who is it therefore that doth not maruell at the barbarous­nesse [Page] and miserie of the Elders, the which as Strabo de situ orbis writeth, first did write in ashes, thē afterward in barks of trées, after that in stones, thē af­terwad in leaues of Lawrel, thē in lead, cōsequently in Parchment, and finally in Paper. And as they were variable in their maner of writing, so vsed they dy­uers instruments: for vpon stones they did write with Iron, on leaues with pincers, on ashes with their fingar, on barkes wyth kniues, on parchmēt with canes, on paper with quilles. And firste theyr ynke was liquor of a certaine fish, afterward with y^• iuice of Mulberies, af­ter that with Chimney sout, & thē with Gaules, Gum and Coporas, the which I thought good to set forth to manifest and shew vnto you y^• barbarous doings in the former age. Of the which Polydo­rus maketh mention, who in y^e yere. 1453 founde out the right vse of Printing. I coulde in like case giue the second degrée of prayse to those that haue inuented the vse of Gunnes and Munitions for [Page] war, were it not that I haue shewed in my second booke of the miseries of man, that it bringeth more harme and detri­ment, then decoration and ornament to our humaine kind. And yet this is more miraculous, which Brasauolus hath written, that an Artillerie man hath founde in our time the muentiō to make Gunpouder that maketh no noyse in goyng out of the Gunnes mouth. Leue we therfore these thunders and rorings of Iupiter inuented by the Diuell for to spoyle humaine kinde, to the cunning and liuelynesse of spirit, of men of oure time, in the number of which we maye put an Artificer of Italie that presented to the Prince of Vrbin a King for to put on his fingar, in the whiche was set a precious stone, wherein there was a Diall, the which beside the line that shewed the houres, gaue warning with a stroke vnto him that did weare it of euerie houre. Who is it that doth not maruell of that that Ierom Cardan, Cardan. a man worthy of credence, being brought [Page] vp in al crudition & learning, witnesseth to haue séene whilst be wrote his bookes,Man vva­sheth his face vvith melted mettell. that a man publickly at Millan washed his face and his handes with molten Leade, hauing first washed them with a certaine other water: what miracle is this, that man shoulde expose his flesh, which is so tender and delicate against y^e fury of a mettal so hote. Now therfore there resteth no more in mā but to make himself immortal, séeing y^• he hath found the meanes to expose hys naked mem­bers to the violence of fier. And if this séeme to vs wonderfull how he might resist the heate, yet this is not lesse straunge of that whych Alexander, Alexander ab Alexan­dro. and more than fiftie other Historiogra­phes writeth that in their time in Cicilie there was a man that euery one named the fish Colas, the which from his infan­cie frequented and dwelled in the Sea, and there remained with suche obstina­tion that he became aquitall,Man aqui­tall. and depar­ted not from thence the most part of h [...] life, and sometimes he was the space of [Page] fiue or six houres hid betwéene two [...] ­ters, without that any might sée or per­ceyue him, euen like a fish, and woulde remaine eight or ten days on the water, and not come out, and would enter into the vessels that he found on the sea, and would liue and eate with the Manners, and then cast himselfe againe into the sea, and sometimes he woulde come a shore, and he liued verie old leading this aquitall life, and confessed himselfe that when he was out of the water, he felte a great paine in the stomacke. Pontanus hath also written it. There resteth nowe nothing to man but to penetrate y^• aire and the firmament to be come familier with them.The Art of flying like the Birds inuented by man. And yet there was one Leo­nard Vincius the which hath sought out the Art of flying, and had almost luckely atchieued his effect, without putting in count the Histrians that we haue seene in our time flie on a rope in y^e ayre with such dexteritie and perill, that the verie eyes of Princes and great Lordes that beheld them were amased, and could not [Page] abide to see them. It is not therfore with out a cause that Mercuriꝰ Trimigisteus describing the dignitie of man, and of the deuine celeritie of spirite with the which he is endued, said vnto his sonne Tatius, what doste thou think thou art, what treasure thinkest thou that thy members contain and kepe, commaund thy soule to passe the Ocean sea, and it shalbe as much as thou hast commaun­ded, without passing out of his place, cō ­maund it to flie to heauen, and it shal flie incontinently without the helpe of any wings, & also there shall be nothing that shall let or hinder his course, neither the burning heate of the sunne, neyther the amplitude or spreading of the ayre, ney­ther the course nor reuolution of the hea­uens, nor of al the other clouds, but that it shal penetrate & passe forth. Further­more if thou art minded to surpasse al y^e globes of the firmament, and sée what is there cōtained, it shalbe likewise lawful for thée: sée then how great is the soden­rie of y^e soule, estéeme thy self immortal, [Page] and that thou mayest comprehende all Arts and sciences, exalt thy selfe aboue all, and discend more déeper than the dée­pest, gather togither all the meaning of thy déedes, likewise of fier, of water, dri­nesse and moysture, be thou ouer all the partes of the world, in heauen, in earth, & in the Sea, dwell or inhabit out of the vessell of this bodie. Man therefore is a great miracle of nature, who althoughe he be composed and made of a mortall nature: neuerthelesse the other is celesti­all, and remembreth the gifts of grace, it despiseth terrestriall things, and wis­sheth for heauenlye things, for bicause that the better part féeleth to haue from thence his proper affinitie, and naturall aliaunce. But if the soule or the reason which is a facultie and powre of y^e same, which can no more forsake it than the light or brightnesse doth y^e sunne,The mar­uellous beautie of the soule if it might be sene openly might be séene openly and visibly, what miracle or straunge spectacle might we sée of hir maruellous effectes, but she is letted by y^e bodie, and by the memorie, the which [Page] Mercurius nameth tyrants and mur­therers of the same, the which doe so let and hinder that she can not shew hir de­uine excellencie, vnlesse that by contem­plation we separate oure selues and se­questrate from them And thē when that she is separated from this burthen of the bodie, and almost putrified, it recey­ueth heauenly gifts, flieth vp to heauen, talketh with the Aungels, and penitra­teth euen before the throne of Gods ma­iestie, and being enflamed with a deuine feruency, it bringeth forth things mira­culous & almost vncredible. As we reade of Moyses after y^• he was separated frō men, and was certain time in the desert of Ethiopia, his face did so shine that the children of Israel could not behold him. S. Paule was rauished to the third hea­uen. In like case Socrates sometimes as transfigured did diligently and stedfast­ly beholde the sunne for the space of an houre.Alexander in his anger seemed to be all on fier, [...] Alexander the great, being on a time in extréeme perill of his life in a certaine battell that he had in the Indies [Page] being without help or succor, he was in such an agonie that he swet pure bloude from his face and his bodie, so that it sée­med to the Indians that he was all on a fierie flame, the which caused among [...] such feare that they were fai [...] to [...] him and let him go. By this you maye sée then, that sometimes the soule hath so much powre ouer the bodie, the which is but the sepulcher wherin it is buried, that it is at libertie, and surmounteth our capacitie, and séeketh to sée againe his first home, which is heauen, in suche sort, that the body remaineth voyd of fée­ling or mouing. As S. Augustine reher­seth of a Priest, the which so often as he would be in contemplation or praier, he would fall down as dead or in a traunce without breathing or anye féeling in him, so that what paine so euer was shewed him, he felt no harme at all, and after he was returned to himselfe, he woulde tell such straunge things that the assistantes would maruell to heare him, Herodotus writeth the like of a [Page] great Philosopher that was named A­theus, of whome he sheweth for a truth the soule many times to forsake his bo­die, & after it hath peregrinated or wan­dered through diuers countries and Re­gions, it shewed by order that which it had seene, the which was approued to be as true as thoughe it had bene present. The death of Iulian the Emperour was forshewed him by a childe, who after he had looked in a glasse shewed him of hys destruction, and howe his enimies were comming, & those that shoulde kill him, without hauing any knowledge or hea­ring any speake thereof. A certaine Phi­losopher did the like to Pompei, y^e which shewed him in a glasse the order of hys enimies redie to march in battell. These are the effectes and powre of the soule, the whiche sometimes being vnbounde from earthly bandes, is rauished in the contemplation of heauenly secrets, and doth vncredible, miraculous, monstru­ous and maruellous things, and that séeme almost to fight with the nature, [Page] which is the cause that for the most part y^• vulgar sort referreth many things to the inuention of wicked spirits, y^e which they ought to attribute to man, as hys owne & proper heritage. It is of a truth that Leonard Pistoriensis did so wel diet himselfe that by little and little he ab­stayned from eating,The mar­uellous die of man. but once a wéeke. And yet this is but litle to that which o­ther writers do write of a man that was in the time of Bochas in base Almayne, that for y^• space of .xxx. yeres tooke no re­past nor refectiō by the mouth,Rondelet in his historie of fishes and many Elders. the which thing should séeme vnto vs vncredible, without the confirmatiō that we haue of an infinit nūber of witnesses, of y^e which some of them haue written, and others haue séene with their eyes. Brother Ni­colas of Saxonie a Swecian of Nation, the which remained or dwelled .xxij. yea­res in the wildernesse, and continued in his abstinencie during his life,An vncre­dible abstinencie. without giuing or ministring any foode or suste­nance to his body. The which Damasce­nus proueth by many reasons maye be [Page] possible and according to nature, séeing that manye beastes and wormes are in the bowels of the earth, and remaine hid many Monthes and yeres without food. And at this daye it is saide that the Sci­thians will continue twelue days with­out meat being comforted with the ver­tue of a certaine herbe that they kéepe enclosed in their mouth. Now what shal we séeke more in this creature of God that is wonderful reserued deuinitie, for if we should rehearse and declare all the singularities and excellencies that are manifested and shewed in him, of the which many writers make mention, I should occupy a large volume. Some by a hid, secret and deuine misterie coulde not by no meanes be offēded or grieued with any kinde of poyson or venim, as a king named Mithridates who after that he was vanquished and ouercome by Pompei, lithrida­ [...]s could [...]t die by [...]yson. chused rather to die, than to fall into the handes of his enimie, and for to rid his life tooke diuers venims and poy­sons, but after that he had tried & tasted [Page] al, he could find none of sufficient strēgth to ouercome him, for his own proper na­ture did kéepe and preserue him against their powre. So that seeing that by thys meanes he could not dispatch his life, he was constreyned at the last to kill him selfe with a dagger. Galen the Prince of Medicins writeth that a Maide (named Napellus)A maruell of man that resisted poyson. was nourished with poyson in hir yong yeares to the which she was so well accustomed that y^• poyson did turne to hir nourishment, & did hir no harme, and yet those that lay with hir being on­ly infected with hir breath, receyued so­daine death. Auicen writeth that in hys time he did sée a man from whom all ve­nemous beasts would flie, & if by chaūce any one had bitten him or touched him they shoulde straight wayes die. Some whom the Gréekes haue named Ophir­genes, who with onely touching healed the stinging of serpents, and laying the hand on a bodie would draw out the ve­nim. As also do the Psiles and Marciens a people of Affrica the Ambassador of [Page] which named Exagon, The Psiles and Marci­ans did vaunt that they coulde not be hurt vvith Ser­pents, the vvhich the Romaines caused to be tried in an Ambas­sador of theirs. being come to anunciate and shewe some thing to the Romaines, was put naked in a tunne full of Serpents, Vipers, Adders and o­ther venemous beastes, for to trie whe­ther that their sayings were true. But so soone as he was put therein, in steade of offēding or hurting him, they did lick and cherishe him, to be short, there are found things so fantasticall and straūge in man, that many elders after they had considered the meaning of all things, and finding nothing equall or to com­pare with the maruellous prouidence and industrie of man, woulde be called Gods and worshipped and honored as a Deitie. Some haue ben so constant that they did neuer laugh, as Marcus Cras­sus, for this cause he was named Age­laste for that he was neuer séene laugh. Some haue neuer snorted nor routed as Pomponius. Some haue neuer spit, as Antonius the second. Some haue neuer felt dolor nor paine in their bodie, as Pontanus writeth of himself, who some­times [Page] would let him self fal, and yet felt no harme. Some haue had such a cleare sight, that they coulde sée well fiftie or thrée score Leagues of, as Solin & Plinie writeth, of one that was named Strabon the which in the time of open warre saw from a Promontorie of Cicill the ships to sayle from the Port of Carthage in Affrica, althoughe it was aboue a hun­dreth thousand distance. Tiberius y^• Em­perour waking a certaine houre in the night,A maruell of the sight of an Em­perour. did sée al things aswell as by day. There are certaine men as Plinie wit­nesseth in the country of Cardulius that will run as swift as Dogges, and go so fast a pace that it is vnpossible to take them, but only by sicknesse & age. Quin­tus Curtius and many others write that Alexander the great, was composed of such harmonie and temperance of hu­mors that his breath smelled naturally like Balme, also his sweat was so swéete that when his Pipes were open, they thought that he was all perfumed wyth perfumes, and that which is more [Page] straunge and harde to beleue, his bodie cast suche a sauor being deade, that one woulde haue iudged it full of Aromati­cal drugs or perfumes. Caius Caesar was so good on horsebacke that he caused hys handes to be bound behind him, and it was a monstruous thing to sée and vn­credible to heare, that holding his knées close to the horse, without bridell and saddell he woulde stay and turne a horse so lightly or nimblye as though he had bene bridled, the which was in the time when he fauored Marius against Sylla. M. Paulus a Venetian reciteth that the Tartarians haue so much powre ouer spirits, and are so excellent in séeking the secretes of nature that they cause darkenesse to come when they will, and that he being once cōpassed with théeues by this Art, with great paine escaped. Haitonus a man of singuler doctrine and of great authoritie, is witnesse of this in his History of Sarmates, that the armie of the Tartarians almost ouer­come or destroyed, was againe restored [Page] by the enchauntment of a Standarde bearer, that caused darkenesse to come vpon the campe of his enimies. I haue red in many auncient Histories that the Ethiopians by the vertues and proper­ties of certain herbes gathered in seasō, do drie the floudes and Riuers, and doe open all things that are shut What shal we saye more of the excellencie of man, there hath bene founde some so wonder­full in Musicke, that they chaunged the affections of those that did heare them, their iests and mouings, caused them to be ioyfull, sorowfull and bold, according as they would adulciate or harden their noyse. Terpander and Metimeus, Em­pedocleus, Orpheus, & Emphion, haue bene so excellent in this Arte, that they healed in their time manye that were franticke, mad, and possessed with spi­rits, Pithagoras by the perfection of this Arte so rauished the memorie of a yong man within few days that he made him chaste, and caused him to forget the lo­uing passions that tormented him con­tinually. [Page] All the Gréeke and Latin wri­ters that haue treated of the iestes of A­lexander, make mention of his Harper Thimotheus, who when he was at a banket, playd an Alarum or assault, cau­sing the King to forsake the banket, and take his armor, so that his spirites re­maining vanquished or ouercome, was constrained to obey to the harmony that proceaded from the instrument. Aga­memnon going to war against the Tro­ians not being verie sure of the chastitie of his wife Clitemnestra, left hir in the garde and kéeping of an excellent Har­per, who whē that he saw hir in hir amo­rous toyes, mitigated hir burning heate by the swéetnesse of his instrument. In such sort that Aegisthus coulde not ob­tayne his desier before that he had slaine the said Musition, which by his Art and Harmonie was so faithfull a kéeper and Protector. Among these we maye recite the great King Dauid, who by the ver­tue of his Hary did mollifie and appease the furie of King Saule when that the [Page] wicked spirite did torment him, as it is most plainly shewed in the second booke of the Kings. To be short, and to set the last seale to the dignitie and excellencye of man, there is no part of him, but that there may be some fruite gathered to the vse of Phisicke, as Galen and many o­thers write. A mans fasting spittle ser­ueth against the biting of venemous beastes,There is no part of man, but that there is some fruite dravvne out to the vse of phi­sicke. and also killeth them, it helpeth the Ophthalmistes: the filth of a mans eare called earewaxe being appliquated to our nostrels serue in steade of dormi­tories, and prouoketh sléepe: Mans vrine or water is good against the dropsie, and for manye other vses of Phisicke. The sweate of a man is excellent for to miti­gate the Goute: the bloud of a man be­ing drunke hote healeth the passion of Loue,Edoardus. as Authors doe write of Faustine wife to Marcus Auresius. The flesh em­balmed is verie soueraigne in many v­sages of Phisick. Many auncient Phisi­tions of Graecia and Arabia haue vsed the marrow of our bones, the braynes [Page] of men, and their bowels, yea euen the duste and ashes of mens bones, for to drinke them and cause thē to serue with maruellous effects to the vsage of Phi­sicke. Orpheus and Orchilaus healed the quinancie with humaine bloud, yea the filth of our nailes,Plinie. as Plinie witnesseth for to heale the Feuer, so that there is no member of a mans bodie, but that it is profitable, not so much as the sweate of a man, but that hath bene proued, as Galen writeth, also the breath of a man well tempered, comforteth greatlye the Leprousy as in like case the exerements of man (the which can not be pronoun­ced without shame) the which as Xeno­crates sayeth, was vsed to the vse of aun­cient Phisicke, finding so many helthful and excellent remedies in man, that the antiquity pardoned no member, though it were neuer so abiect and vile for to draw out profit. Séeing then that man is so worthy and so excellent, so wonderful and celestial. Let vs therfore leaue here­after to compare him to brute beastes. [Page] The which although God hath prouided for thē all that for thē is néedefull for the preseruatiō of their life, giuing to some, skin, others haire, aswell for to sustaine and endure the violence of the colde as other inclinencies of the ayre, and to o­thers munimentes and defences for to repulse the dexterior euilles, to other lightnesse and swiftnesse to run & flie, to others subtilty to hide thēselues in dens and caues of the earth, to others fethers and wings that they maye hang in the ayre, to the ende to euitate the furie and rage of man, all the which things not­withstanding are of little value to the regard of man. For although he be crea­ted naked, and couered with so tender a skin, that quickely he is hurt and recey­ueth harme, yet neuerthelesse that was not done without great prouidence.An aun­svvere to the obiec­tions of hu­maine mi­series. For knowing that he had to exercise his fan­cie and other interior senses much more diligently than the brute beasts to serue afterward to the Intelecke, it was ther­fore necessarie that he singularly should [Page] haue his Organs and instruments,Baptist Gelo tra­ducted by Pare. by the whiche he doeth such operations of matter more delicate and light, and like­wise the bloud more subtill and hote, knowing that the spirit followeth in his complections the temperature of the bo­die. And if he had bene composed of rude and thick skin, so should he haue had the vnderstanding blunt and brutishe, but man is created of a subtill and liuelye fleshe, bicause that the spirite which is liuely and subtill, for the better & more perfecter opening & knowing of things. The workmaister therefore is wonder­full which hath not attributed to man certaine commodities as he hath done to beastes, knowing that his sapience and wisedome might render that which the condition of nature had denied him. For althoughe he commeth forth naked on the earth, & without armour or defence, (the which chaunceth not to beastes that haue hornes, clawes, haire and shelles) it is for his greate profit and aduaun­tage, being armed with knowledge, and [Page] endued with reason, not outwarde but inwardly he hath put his munition and defence, not in the bodie but in the spi­rite, in such sort that there is neyther the greatnesse nor strength of wilde beasts, neyther their defence in their hornes, neither y [...]t the great lumpe of fleshe nor bones with the which they are compo­sed and made, may let that they be not tamed and made subiect vnder y^e powre and authoritie of man, for there is no beast be he neuer so fierce, hardie or stoute, but that trembleth sodenly when he séeth man although they had neuer séene him before. And such grace succée­deth them by the vertue of the signacle and marke of God which is ingraued in them, the which the aunciēt Cabalists named Pahat in y^e Hebrue tongue, with the which Adam our first father fortified liued being conuersant with the beasts, to whom he gaue the names, so y^• he had got such authority and empire ouer thē that they knew him as their lord & soue­reign maister, but after that he trāsgres­sed, [Page] the deuine marke was effaced and abolished, not altogither, but for y^• most part. Of the traces and footesteps there­of we sée yet certain sparks and beames shine in some vertuous men, who al­though they be in the wildernesse & that they lodge and lie in the dens & caues of brute beasts, they feare thē nothing, but liue without feare with thē, as we reade in the holie scripture of Sampson, Da­uid, Daniell among the Lions. Heliseus with the Beares, and S. Paule with the Vipers. There resteth nowe in fewe wordes to aunswere to the allegations that we haue made in our booke of hu­maine miseries, aswell of the vilenesse of the nature (of the which mā was crea­ted) as of the condicion that is so tender and fraile, that in many things beastes doe excell him.The cause of humaine miseries. Shoulde we therefore be so mad, or dare we cōfesse that God hath shewed more fauor to other beasts than to man: no truly: for although he hath created him vile and abiect, as of a lump of earth, yet this in nothing doth dero­gate [Page] his glory. For it is manifest that he hath not created man corruptible for de­fault of a better, for by the creation of y^• Sunne, the Moone & the starres, he hath shewed how he might haue created man of a thing more excellēt, but he hath cre­ated him of the earth for to beate downe his pride and arrogancy, the which hath bene the cause of the ruine and destruc­tion of al his posteritie, and that he must not only studie on earthly things as the brute beastes doe that looke for no other selicitie but in this miserable world, but he must lift vp his eies to Heauen, kno­wing that there is his Father, his house and habitation, his place of rest, his he­ritage & eternall felicitie. Now as tou­ching the miseries with the which he is charged and subiect, God in the begin­ning created him not subiect to such mi­series, for God exalted him to the moste highest degrée of all the dignities of the earth, and if he haue so many miseries as we haue before shewed, they are chaunced to him since that he knew not [Page] himselfe, and since the time that he hath strayde from the obedience and vocation to the which he was called, and if that he coulde haue kept and retayned this ex­celent treasure,Theodoret bishop of Siria, in his [...]ookes of [...]e nature of man. his God would haue pre­serued him in perpetual felicitie. Neuer­thelesse though God hath made him sub­iect to many miseries, it is not for anye hatred that he bare vnto him, for he hath not pardoned his only sonne, for y^e great loue he bare vnto man, but it is for his great profit that he hath created him such, willing thereby to admonish him of his sinne, and to plucke out from his heart that pestilent roote of pride the which the Deuill hath planted for to hū ­ble and kéepe him vnder his feare. Ther­fore this is the cause that man is subiect to so many miseries, and is become mortall and corruptible. And if man therfore séeing himselfe so wicked and miserable, be so proude and hie minded, what wold he be if he were immortall and incor­ruptible. And therefore God hath here shewed his wisedome and sapience in [Page] y^• he hath made him subiect to corrupti­on. Notwithstanding in this corruptible and mortall vessell of earth he hath kept so goodly a harmonie and countenance, that it is not possible to imagine or con­ceyue one more fairer.Conclusion To the ende ther­fore that in few wordes we will make a generall conclusion of our worke, if we wil consider man in the first estate that God created him, it is y^e chiefe & princi­pal of Gods worke, to y^• end that in him he might be glorified as in the most no­blest and excellētest of all his creatures. But if we consider him in the estate of the generall corruption spred all ouer the posteritie of Adam, we shall sée him nooseled in sinne, monstruous, fearfull, deformed, subiect to a thousande incom­modities, voide of beatitude, vnable, ig­norant, variable, and hypocrite. To be short, in steade of being Lord of all crea­tures, is become slaue to sinne in the which he is borne and conceyued. But if we will consider afterwarde as being made all new by the immortall séede of [Page] Gods word, ye shall sée him restored not only in al his first honors and goods, but muche more greater, for there where as sinne is poured out for to let and hinder him, the grace of God is more abundāt­ly poured out for to succor him, making him a new creature, as Sainct Ambrose sayth in the booke of the vocation & cal­ling of the Gentiles, the. 3. chap. And S. Augustine in his booke of corruptiō and of grace. cap. 10. And as concerning vs, let vs doe as Plato knowing the goodnes that God hath done to vs, let vs giue him thankes in that we are borne men, not beastes, and if that we finde anye thornes in this crooked life that with ease we cānot disgest, & if we féele anye fight in our soule, the which is hid in this body as in a graue, let vs endeuor our selues to go into the holie Citie of Ierusalem, whereas we shall be exempt of hunger, colde, heate and thirst, and generally from all infirmities and teares, to the which this poore bodie, the which is but the Chariot wherevnto the Soule is [Page]