For Pouertie.
Declamation, 1. That it is better to be poore than Rich.

COnsidering for what, and against whome I am to speake in your presence, I haue great occasion to feare, and withal to request, that credit and fauour shoulde haue no more meanes, to ble­mish and obscure truth on your partes; then may innocencie and simplicitie on my behalfe, by bringing and conducting ye into the ap­parant light; For minding to commend such things, as are blamed and hated by most part of men, it will be almost impossible for me to escape displeasure in the matters themselues, which of each one, and at all times haue beene loued, esteemed and cherished aboued all other things. But one thing that heerin gi­ueth me some comfort, is, that among the wise and vertuous, the number whereof are dailye without comparison farre lesse (albeit much more esteemed) then the bad and ignorant; I shall escape vnblamed. Wherefore I need not be dismaied, if I find few pro­tectors and friends, for praising matters so good and [Page 2] honest, when my aduersarie findeth greater aduan­tage, for extolling such things as are euill and perni­tious.

Nowe because the principall point of my cause, consisteth in letting ye vnderstand, the estate and va­lew of such matters, as I stand for: I desire ye to wish him, who would turne ye from the knowledge heer­of (as pretending not to know, that the well skilde in letters, haue (for the most part) been poore and nee­die persons:) To cal to memorie the life of Valerius Publicola, Menenius Agrippa, as also the good Ari­sti [...]es, who died all so poore, as they were faine by almes to be buried. Hee may remember likewise, Epaminondas king of Thebes, in whose rich houses & Pallaces (after so many faire victories and noble deedes of armes by him perfourmed) was found but one poore straw-bed or base mattresse, for to put in his Inuentory. He may bee mindfull also of Paulus Aemillius, Attillius Regulus, Quintus Cincinnatus, Cato Elius and Marcus Manlius: whose noble hartes were more cōmanded by want; then the height of world­ly fortunes. And who knowes not, that loue of po­uertie had such power ouer the good Abdolominus, that to be ruled thereby, hee refused the most riche and abounding kingdome of Sydonia, he being elec­ted by the people of the Countrey, to be gouernor thereof?

Heerein appeareth sufficiently, the great number of molestations and trauailes, hidden vnder the vaine splendor of riches, and the aboundance of honours hidden in the beautiful bosome of pouertie: honors well knowne and vnderstood by the Poet Anacreon, [Page 3] to whom it happened, that hauing been two whole nights togither without any rest, troubled with con­tinuall deuisings, how he might keepe from theeues, and imploy the fiue talents of golde which Polycrates had giuen him: at length, to deliuer himselfe from this perpetuall molestation, and returne to his for­mer happinesse, he brought backe the faire Talentes to the Tyrant, with such wordes as one of his sorte might very well vse, and notwithstanding hee was poore and indigent, yet he refused those thinges so highly accounted on. It is certaine, that hee whoe hath alwaies liued poor in this world, hath no greefe or sorrowe when he departeth from it: for it is to bee considered, that hee leaueth this earthlie life more contented and ioyfullie, then he that by the meanes of riches, hath therin endured long time of pleasure.

As for my selfe, I neuer saw one that was poore indeed, who at his death desired to be better stored. O chaste and humble pouertie, wheron, as on a most firme rocke, was builded (of olde) the Churche of God▪ Pouertie, architectrix of great citties & towns: inuentresse of all Artes and faire sciences, alone with­out any fault or reproch: Triumphant in very great excellence, and worthy of all honour and commen­dation. By thee was the Philosopher Plato esteemed so deuine: Socrates so wise, and good Homer so elo­quent. By thy meanes was erected the Empire of the great Romaine people, and to be briefe; how much for other things thou art to be loued singularlie: yet for this one respect art thou highlie to be praised, be­cause apparantlie thou makest knowne, who (among friends) are the feigned and counterfeit. Wherfore [Page 4] I say, that such as forsake and reiect thee, ought to be shunned as a sauage beast, & chased from euery one: considering that in refusing thee, he repulseth the mi­stresse of all goods, & excellence of the spirit of man.

That this is true, howe many persons haue beene seene (by the meanes of honest want) to be brought to all modesty, humility, chastitie, prouidence, and lastlie to ioy in that, which false phylosophy, by long time and continuall studie, could hardly at any time bring to memorie. If mine oath might vrge ye to be­leefe, I durst affirme before ye, that I haue seen some in their worldly felicities, more furious, than euer was Orestes, more proud, then Athamantis, more voluptuous & libidinous then Verres or Clodius: who soone after by some inconueniences being brought to pouerty, became in one instant chast, courteous and so debonaire, as not so much as the very shadow of their bodies, but appeered to be affable and grati­ous. And neuer did so much the gainesaiers of this vertue, no not in the honesties of morall philosophy, for it is a thing very certaine, that shee could neuer performe like worthy deedes, as our good pouertie hath doone; I beseech ye consider, what a mistresse in her house she hath alwaies beene, to forbid, that (where she soiourneth) sloth, prodigalitie, goutti­nesse, luxurie, with such like mishapen and detesta­ble matrones should haue any harbour. Whersoeuer she sheweth her selfe, it behoueth pride to bee gone with all diligence; neuer must enuy haue any place there, such trumperies and abuses she scattereth from her abroades.

But may it please ye to vnderstand (Gentlemen) [Page 5] whereon they so much affected to riches and coue­tousnesse of money, doe ground themselues, which in all seasons hath beene held for the greatest ruine and destruction of men. They say, that such is the inclination of our spirit. I would demand of them, what societie haue the spirits of men, being of their owne nature diuine and celestial, with earthly super­fluities, because nothing else is gold or siluer, then the very excrement of the earth? where finde they, that any one of them who were highly wise, would euer place riches in the number of those thinges, that true­ly ought to bee called goods? Vnhappy thornes, which brings ye such greefe in the gathering, which with so many warme teares, and ouer-bitter sighs, ye leaue lost and dissipated: and with such paines and anguishes, ye cause to be guarded and tended.

Seneca, an author of great reputation, saide: That the man is greatly to be commended, whoe prizeth earthen vessels as much as if they were of siluer: but much more praise deserueth he, that esteemeth ves­selles of golde or siluer no more then if they were of earth. So in truth, if we consider well the condition of these so highly beloued riches, we shall find them naturally to be such; as in dispending or employing them, they cause nothing else but trouble and tor­ment. And thinking to keepe them safe and sure vn­der key, neuer the more easie benefite is receiued thereby: but oppressions of such care, as we cannot but repute our selues simple subiects, and seruants to them. For this it is, that our God, of infinite wisdom and bountie, calleth the poore most blessed: & who euer gaue so much fauor to pouertie as he? in imita­tion [Page 6] of whom, many (I thinke by him inspired) haue buried their goods, fearing least themselues shoulde be buried in them.

And brieflye to discouer the pleasure of these ri­ches. If we desire them, to haue a sumptuous stable of horses, double and single, Courtals, ambling and trotting Geldings, Iennets, Hungarian, Barbarian, Turkish, and other horsses of excellence: let vs consi­der, that the horsse by nature is a fantasticall beaste, night and day eating the goods of his maister, yet for all that neuer satisfied; a lofty and a couragious beast, bread and nourished vppe for warre, to whom som­times their needes but a wispe of strawe, to affright him with a shadow, which endagers the ouerthrow of his maister. A beast, that oft times will not obey the bridle or the spurre, and without the meanes of well ordering and managing, will fall into a thousand bogges or quag-mires. How many daungerous a­larmes, and spoile of Countries (caused by the vn­happie incursions of the Gotthique, Vandalian, Hunnes, & Danish horses) haue the noble kingdoms of France, Italie and Spaine receiued: whoe but for this helpe, had neuer beene enterprized vppon by those barba­rous Nations? What damage yeerely doe the poste horses, not only to riders for offices and benefices: but likewise to Princes and Lords, who somtime (for their pleasure) desire to winne ground in hast? I ne­uer looke on them, that so boldly place their affecti­on in horses; and who without any reasonable cause, so affect and keepe them, but I say to my selfe: be­tweene him that loueth, and the thing beloued, it be­houeth there should be some similitude and resem­blance, [Page 7] otherwise such an appetite should neuer bee ingendred, nor could these two so well agree togy­ther. Seeing then that rich men are so immesureably affected to their horsses, as they can thinke on no o­ther pastimes in the world, but to send to buy them at Naples, in Turkie, in Almaigne and Spaine: it must needes be esteemed, that they holde some dispositi­on agreeing with the horsses, participating with some strange and brutishe nature. And not to be silent in other discommodities which horsses bringeth, as well in the field as the Citty: first of all, if they trot, they will breake their reynes: and if they amble, they are ready to stumble and fall, hazarding thy ouer­throw, or perishing some member of thy body. Be­side, this, as saith the great Alfirtocus, and many good Authors of Escuyrie: the horsse is subiect to more diseases then a man. So let me leaue ye, to bethinke on such other greefes and vexations, which horsses daily bring vnto ye.

If we see into the pleasure of the rich, concerning the beawtie of their Cabinets, garnished (amonge other iewels) with pointed diamonds, Rubies, To­pazses, Emeraldes, or other beautifull stones: wee may at this day perceiue by proofe, that the price and valew of pretious stones, consisteth only in the affection of very wealthy persons, or in the smooth language of the abusers that sell them, the reputation and esteem of them, being subiect to the incertitude and variety of opinions. That it is so, the Agath which now is of so slender prize, was of olde had in great reputation with Pyrrhus, who kept one as most deere and pretious. The Saphire, because it resem­bled [Page 8] the faire colour of Heauen, was wont to bee in very high account: nowe it is of little esteeme, and helde as a slender iewell. The Diamond was neuer by our elders greatly prized: now ye see howe it is reckoned and valued. The Topaze was in good cre­dit with Ladies, but now at this present (for what oc­casion I know not) it is reputed the simplest iewell one can weare. And who knowes not in what dig­nitie the Emerald should be? Now ye see how it lies complaining on Fortune,

Thou wilt tell me, that it were good for one to be rich, that he may bee decked in faire and sumptuous garments, finely cut and framed after diuers fashions. Thou art very sottish and simple if thou perceiuest not, that such braueries bring thee perpetuall solly­tude and molestation; for hauing gotten garmentes of these sorts, thou must so often rubbe, wipe, brush, fold, vnfolde, alter, amend, ayre, and such like qual­litie else beside, to keepe them from spots & moaths, wherein thou maiest apparantly note and expresse deepe vanity, that thou wilt couer thy body, which is made of nothing but dirt and slime, with purple, silke, gold, and other curiosities.

Some good drinker, would desire money, to see his sellers full of the best and most delicate wines, as of Balme, Arbois, wine of Orleance, Rosetta, Mus­cadels, Bastardes, Malmesies, Corsa, Greeke wine, Vernacula, Romania, and others, which are not heer to be nominated. These were good for thee; were it not that thou forgettest the discommodities which drinke bringeth, and to be drunke. For wine (accor­ding as Plato holdeth) was in manner sent down here [Page 9] beneath by the Gods, to inflict punishments vppon men, and to take vengeance on their offenses, making them (after they be become drunke) to kill & mur­ther one another. For this cause Androcides aduerti­sed Alexander, that wine was the bloud of the earth, and he ought to guard himselfe well in the vse there­of. This counsell beeing not well obserued by that great Emperour; in his intemperance he slewe his most deere Clitus, burned the Citty of Persepolis, stab­bed his Phisitian, committing many other filthie and infamous deedes of excesse. Wherefore was it, but for this, that the Carthaginians forbad wine to theyr souldiors and houshold seruants, and to such likewise as held any estate of gouernment in their Common wealth, especially during the time of their authoritie and office in the Citty.

Leotichus being desired to tel the reason, wherfore the Spartanes (by his commandement) were so sober in drinking wine: answered, that he did it to deliuer them from trouble, in consulting with other nations touching their owne affaires. Cyneas, Ambassador to Pyrrhus, whose sweet tongue was so much esteemed by euery one, and of so great profit to his Prince, be­ing one daye in Auara, beholding the exceeding height of the countrey vines; in smiling merely, thus spake. Good right had such a mother, to be hanged on so highe a Crosse or Iibbet, because she brought forth such a dangerous childe as wine was. Should one wish riches, to haue great troopes of fat cattell, store of wooll or corne? to see his court ful of fowles, his doue-cotes well bred and haunted, Turtle doues in cages, Peacocks, Phesants, Turky hens, with other [Page 10] kinds of excellent fowle choisly kept vppe? I thinke that the great number of these seuerall kindes, serues but for venison to the Fox or Wolfe, or else their ra­pine, that haue not the meane to compasse the like: the pleasure whereof may be called somewhat beast­lie, because it is nourished among beasts.

And as for fowles, what are they (if not kept as a pray for foxes, Cats, and Weasels) then are they vi­ands for hunters, the spoile of gardens, and destructi­on of Garners? Can one imagine like vexation to this beastly delight? for one paultry egge, what cry, what cackling and noise heare we for so smal a thing: albeit it were good, as some doubt it is not. For who knowes not by experience, cheefly by the testimony of Phisitians, that the new laide egge subuerteth the stomach, and when it is not new, it corrupteth and hurteth it? What shal I say of the Turtle doue, whose sorrowfull note brings such griefe to the hearer, and to the eater, such appetite to fleshly concupiscence? What likewise shall I say of the Pigeon? whose noise neuer ceaseth day or night, which breakes her may­sters head, and beside, fileth the fairest houses? And as for her hoarse note, I finde it nothing inferiour to that of the Peacock, in matter of annoying and bad sound: sauing that the Peacocks crie is more mighty in terrour, euen as it were to affright the deuils. I be­leeue the man that brought them into this countrey, had much more regard to his belly, then to the quar­rels and disturbing of neighbours, to disgrace the co­uerture of houses, and spoile of so many well man­nured and pleasant gardens.

Some good supposer may say, that riches serue for [Page 11] a pleasant & recreatiue life. Because if I haue wealth, I can make good cheere, I can behaue my selfe meri­lie, and entertaine companies of most excellent Mu­sitians, that shall make me pastime, and take from me all offending irkesomnesse. Let mee aduertise thee, that in musicke is not to be receiued one onely good or honest pleasure; because it is naturally vaine and dissolute. That it is so, Saint Athanasius Bishop of A­lexandria, a man of very profounde knowledge, to the reading of whose bookes, Saint Ierom moste in­stantlie exhorteth vs: chased musicke foorth of the christian Church, because it too much weakned and softned mens spirits, making them inclined and dis­posed to all worldlie pleasures and lasciuiousnes: be­side this, it increased melancholie in him, that was first by nature surprized therewith. Saint Augustine had neuer any will at all to proue it: the Egypti­ans blamed it, not so much for being vnprofitable, as dangerous and damnable. Aristotle most highly ha­ted it, when it hapned him to say: that Iupiter neuer could sing or play on the harpe. Phillip of Macedon very much blamed his sonne Alexander, because he saw him giuen too much to musicke, and sawe him (one time among other) take too great pleasure in singing melodiously: who would then wishe great store of goods, to employ them in such a fantasticall studie?

Who would desire riches, for the pastime of hun­ting, hawking, and other manner of chasing sportes? the chase is no recreation at all, that a studious or a vertuous spirit should followe: for whosoeuer will well resolue himselfe thereof, shall finde it an exer­cise [Page 12] of crueltie, a sport for desperate people, and (if I durst say so) for mad men. This pastime was first in­uented by the Thebanes, a nation beyond other most cruell and beastlie: nor was it had in any vse, but a­mong the most barbarous, such as were the Idumaeans, Ismaelites and Philistines. For the truth heereof, looke in holy writ, if any one of the good Patriarches was euer a hunter? We read somwhat of Caine, Esau and Nemrod: but this was the cause why Saint Augustine held, that the said Esau was reckoned among the nū ­ber of sinners. According to which opinion, the chase was forbidden to Preests in the Mileuitane councel, albeit that decree at this day is little accoumpted of.

VVherfore thinke ye the fabulists feigned Acte­on, to be turned into a Hart as hee was chasing? but only to let vs vnderstand, that the ouer-earnest & im­measureable loue borne to that exercise, with the consuming of goods bestowed thereon: makes the hunters in the ende not onely beastly, but euen hor­ned altogither likewise. For proofe and example of this daungerous pleasure, I am to tell ye, that not ma­nie daies past, a maruellous faire yong Gentlewoman, accoumpted of greatest trust where she dwelt, so soon as her husband was risen early in the morning to goe on hunting: receiued the iniurious companie of hir secret friend, with whom she had greater pastime, not forsaking her bedde, then the hunter could haue in midst of the fieldes, where he pursuing some horned beast, himselfe (without thinking thereon) was at home turned into a masque of the same fashion. Poor and miserable huntsmen, let me in curtesie tell ye, to what end serues this great affection ye beare to sauage [Page 13] beasts, but to make ye continuallie haunt the woods and forrests, where ye likewise become sauage and brutish, ready oftentimes to breake your neckes in bushes or ditches. Take example I pray ye by Viria­tus, he that by his prowesse conquered the kingdom of Portugall, and consider, how of a shepheard, hee became a huntsman, and from a huntsman, to bee a robber and theese in the woods.

The youths that are tearmed nice-wantons, will neuer yeeld to mee, but that riches will serue to feast their Ladies, to banquet, daunse, vault, braue it, reuel all the night, and vse a thousand idle tricks of louers, wherein we see the wealthy youthes of these daies, most commonly to place their pleasure. Heereto I woulde not willinglie agree, were it not I imagine, what is doone in secret to Ladies: so that the loue of the very fairest, or most queint and finest Gentlewo­man, is nothing else than a secret hidden death, a close contriued poison, incident to the spirite of the most sensible person that is. And for this cause, the Egyptians (willing to shewe loue portraied in euery part,) were wont to paint a snare or halter: signifiyng thereby (as I thinke) the miserable ende and conditi­on, whereto poore louers are daily led, a passion too bitter to feele, that suddenlie making his entrie into the harts of men, departs againe very slow and slack­lie: whence springeth afterward infinite fountaines of teares, sighes too piersing, anguishes and trauailes insupportable.

This was it that moued Alcesimarchus Plautinus to maintaine, that loue was the first inuenter of beg­ging and the wallet, by reason (I thinke) of the in­credible [Page 14] molestings and torments, which he loades his poore beggers withal, being as often present with him as absent, & absent as well as present: by means whereof he sends them in the end (if they be not wel grounded) the bagge for their first salutation; and with a newe shirt or sheet on their shoulder, to the hospitall, by foure horses or bearers. And that loue is (of all torments) the most cruell in the worlde, it appeareth by the answere which Apolonius Thianeus made to the king of Babilon; concerning the paine he desired to be inuented for punishing of an Eunuche, who was found with a gentlewoman his affected fa­uorite. Ye need not bethinke any greater persecuti­on for him (quoth the Philosopher) then to let him liue: for I make no doubt (mighty king) if the fire of loue go forwarde in him, according as already it hath begun: ye cannot make him feele and endure a more cruell passion, nor may hee bee so tormented with what else ye can deuise. He shall finde himselfe like the shippe, tossed with contrary winds, himselfe (by his owne procurement) euen like the foolish fly, shall burne and consume in this flame: he shal burne when he is as cold as yce: he shall request and refuse in one selfe-same instant, and desire as much to die as to liue. In these wordes Thianeus erred not a iot, if we could consider, how greeuously Salomon was toi­led and tormented with this loue, till men beheld him transported from all naturall sence, and made a meere preuaricatour of the holy law.

If we should seeke after this wicked money, to take pleasure in many farmes, countrey houses, enui­roned with trim gardens and buildings, beset with [Page 15] cleere fountaines, Thickets, Arbours, Vineyardes, Meadowes, earable land, and other singularities: I say, such things make vs often poore by slothfulnes, and vndoeth vs by ouer-lauishnesse, inducing vs to greeuous offenses, thorow many by-places, and be­hauiours that are ouer secret. That it is not vnlikely, let vs remember what Cicero wrote to his friend Ver­res, and we shall finde, that when he would well dis­cipher and portrait to life (as it were) the libidinous acts of a Gentleman: that first of all he painted forth, the walks and pleasures of countrey houses and faire places, which accustomably he frequented, as if such things were the ministers and helps, of his very chie­fest faults and misbehauiors.

For conclusion, riches haue euer beene in so bad reputation; that they haue beene called brambles, flames, and burning coales. See how they make in­solent people arrogant, spightfull, beastly, negligent, disdainfull, fooles, melancholie, solitary and hateful: yee shall not finde one alone, but doubteth of their seruice, as being baits and nourishments to al vnhap­pie works. Hence it came that Pliny saide, treasures hid by nature for our profit, doe commonly stifle vs, and plunge vs in the deapth of all mischances. So was Zeno wont to say, that the goodes of the worlde did more hurt then helpe: which was the cause that made Crates the Thebane, passing one day from his countrey of Athens, to followe the studie of Philoso­phy, to throw all the golde and siluer he had about him into the sea, imagining, that vertue and riches coulde neuer partake togither: the same speeches were likewise confirmed by Bias, Plato, and manie [Page 16] other wise Philosophers.

But what need I spend time in producing so many witnesses: when the holy mouth of the Creatour hath said: that sooner shall the cable of a shippe enter the eie of a needle to sow withal, then can a rich man into the kingdome of heauen. He spake it, who (all his life time) distributed and spent his faculties on the poore. But the Pagan that inuented the fiction (in truth very ingenious) how Iupiter surprized with the maruellous and exceeding beauty of Danae, conuer­ted himselfe into a shower of golde, falling into the bosome and lap of the Lady, by this meane to haue iouissance with his so long desired and purchased pray: dooth he not plainely enough giue vs to vn­derstand, that gold is the most proper and conuena­ble thing, wherewith to oppugne and ouerthrowe the chastitie of innocent maidens? Yet thinke not, that gold serueth only as a custome, to persecute the modesty of women withall; but assure your selues beside, that it is daily the cause of monstrous treasons, slaughter, and many other deedes of vile excesse, which the breuity of time, and feare of offending ye, will not permit me to rehearse.

Wherefore I will conclude with the good Phy­losopher Possidonius, that riches is the cause of infinite euils: which contrariwise cannot be so said or allea­ged, against our holy and well aduised pouertie, of whom learned Seneca speaketh honourably, sayeng; That the naked by this speciall meane, is out of dan­ger of theeues, and such as are free from money, may in besieged places liue at ease, not dreading the feare of enimies. Much better then (without comparison) [Page 17] is franke pouertie, then such slauish riches: seeing from pouerty springeth infinite profits and commo­dities, and from worldly goods, proceedeth nothing but vnhappinesse.

For the hard-fauoured face, or fowle Complexion.
Declamation, 2. That it is better to be fowle than faire.

WHo knoweth not, how much the deformitie of body and hard fa­uoured face is to bee esteemed, principally in womē (for in men it was neuer in so great request:) hath neuer considered, how ma­ny amorous sparks is dayly to be seen, vnder an il-fauoured countenance and badde composed body, choicely hid and couered: which in a faire face finely polished, giues often occasion of ceaselesse flames and cruell passions. But the strong and inuincible bulwarke, which the fowle face (not [Page 18] onely of olde, but likewise in these times) hath erec­ted for it selfe, will encounter the fires of loue that are so damageable. Do ye beleeue (Gentlemen) if faire Helen the Greeke, and the gentle Troian Sheep­heard, had beene hard fauored or counterfeit in per­sonage, that the Greekes would euer haue taken so much paine in pursuing them? Nor had poore Troy endured such cruell ruine and destruction, in longe description whereof, so many skilfull wits were wea­ried and tyred.

And if we shall compare and vnite together, the beawty of the mind with that of the body: shall we not finde a greater number of deformed people, to be more wise and ingenious then the faire and well fourmed? Let Socrates be our witnesse, whome the historians and auncient figures represent, to be so il­fauoured as might be: notwithstanding, by the Ora­cle of Apollo, he was acknowledged to be the wisest man of his time. Phrigian Aesope, the most excellent fabulist, was in forme of bodie so strange and misha­pen, as the verie ougliest in his time (in comparison of him) might rightly bee resembled to Narcissus or Ganimede: neuerthelesse, as each one may read, hee was most rich in vertues, and in spirit (beyond all o­ther) most excellent.

Of great deformitie were the Philosophers, Zeno and Aristotle, Empedocles fowlie composed, and Galba a very ougly counterfeit: neuerthelesse, they al were of maruellous and sweet disposed spirit. Could any impeach the deformity of Philopoemen, who after hee was seene to be a good and hardie souldiour: came he not to the dignity of a most valiant captaine? and [Page 19] was hee not reuerenced among his people, for his high & excellent vertues? Consider (Gentlemen) on such as are of faire and corpulent fashion, and ye shall commonly finde them to be sicklie, more weake, and lesse able to trauaile: more soft, delicate and effemi­nate, then the other kind of people. Againe, ye shall sildome times see it happen, that in a beautifull body, being of great excellence, chastity agreeth in selfe­same likelihood: because it is to bee kept with great difficultie, being by so many sought after so earnest­lie.

What shall we say of such, whoe (not contenting themselues with nature,) doe daily frame very great complaintes against her, making no spare of their goods or labour, to reforme (with all endeuor) what seemeth best to them for fashion of their bodies: be­cause they be not appropriate or agreeing with their curious appetites? Of such fooles I demaund, seeing nature (the most carefull and discrete mother of all things) hath giuen them what she thought meet and profitable in the form of their bodies: for what cause they should be displeased with her, or imagine her a bad bestower, who would neuer giue them any part of that folly, which is so vainely set by and esteemed of by euery one? Nature giues not to her friendes, the things that may quickly be wasted by sicknesse, or ouerthrowne by the course of age: therefore true li­beralitie is knowne, by the firme and long continu­ance of the gift bestowen vpon any one: and what see ye of lesse permanence then beawty?

Consider, how it hath headlong throwne downe yong people, into secret greefes and perillous daun­gers, [Page 20] and allured them to such hatefull sins: as right happie might he count himselfe, that coulde escape them with his honor vnstained. Contrariwise, note the good and profit ensuing by deformitie, when all they in generall, that of olde time haue beene, & yet at this day are studious in chastitie, doe openly con­fesse, as nothing hath like force in them, to tame and check the pricks of the flesh, neither long watchings, greeuous disciplines, or continuall fastinges; as one only looke vpon an il-fauoured and counterfeit per­son. Hence ensueth that, which is vsed as a common prouerbe, concerning a very fowle deformed wo­man: that shee serueth as a good receipt and soue­raigne remedy, against fleshly tentations.

O sacred and pretious deformity, deerly loued of chastitie, free from all scandalous daungers, & a firme rampart against all amorous assaults, I perceiue that by thy meanes, company keeping is the easier to bee allowed, for thou takest from them all greefes & an­noiances: chasing from thy societie all wicked sus­pitions, as a very speciall remedy against desperate iealousie. O that I coulde finde wordes worthy thy praises and deserts, whence proceedeth infinit good and treasure, which with great shame hath beene (by the ignorant) despised and blamed. O what affecti­on I haue to perswade my friends, how they shoulde know (henceforth) to adorne and embelish them­selues, with the beawtie that for euer endureth: and not to depart therewith from among vs, either drin­king, eating, waking, sleeping or breathing. I meane that beawtie, that keepes vs companye euen to our graue, and leaues vs not till the latest gaspe: that [Page 21] which we may truely call our owne, no way due or attributable to our parents. Gaine-say me who shal, I will rest my selfe on this opinion, that much better is it to be adorned with such a colour, then to trust or repose only in borrowed corporall beauty, which so easilie corrupteth, euen by the least touch of any feuer that may come vpon vs.

I remember a yong maiden of Perigourd, who per­ceiuing her beauty to be a very great, suspitious, and capitall enimie to her good fame, and that in regard thereof, she was daily required and solicited by ma­ny yong yoonkers: her owne selfe with a rasour, or some piece of siluer made sharpe for the purpose, so disfigured her faire face, that her two cheekes, which seemed before like roses or shining Carbuncles, con­teyned nothing at all of their former and naturall beawty. Like act did many wise, well learned Da­mosels, and holy virgines of the Primitiue church, of whom especiall memory is made among Christi­ans at this day.

What say ye of our Courtezans? whom God (by his especiall grace) hauing not giuen the gift, to bee the fairest of all other: howe daily they cease not to inuent, newe and strange manners of paintinges, to counterfeit and disguise their age and first naturall shape: with false haires, Spanish white, Pom [...]des, Tar­gon, distilled waters, braied drugs, Oyles, Powders, and others follies too long to be recounted. Often­times they shaue or burne their artificiall haire, and then againe, rub slick, chafe and washe themselues, only to seeme faire: yet notwithstanding, looke on them at night or in the morning, and ye shall finde [Page 22] them more deformed than before: but what ensu­eth soone after vppon this goodly industry? Sinne, Death, and the anger of God.

Now then, desire this feigned faire beawty whoe will, and such as best thinke themselues worthy of it: for I hold most firmely, that it is better to hate & flie it, then to wish or affect it, seeing nothing procedeth thereof, but pride, ouer-weening and vaine-glorie, as also the moste mishapen horned creatures of the world. Neuer was I of any other minde, since the time I had power of reason, to discerne and knowe truth from falshood, but that deformed people de­serued more praise then the beawtifull, nor is it with­out cause, or disagreeing with best sense, considering such as are hard fauoured, are commonly chast, hum­ble, ingenious, holy, and haue euer some sweete ap­pearance of most commendable grace.

But for them that boast of beautie, I leaue to you the consideration of their behauiour, which is often times so counterfeit, as nothing can be saide to agree lesse with nature. You shall see them of lofty coun­tenance, inconstant demeanour, wandring lookes, bold pace, and like language: nowe iudge at your pleasure what ye conceiue of them. Conclude then will I, that it is much better to be fowle than faire, & let no aduersary party intrude himselfe to replie a­gainst my speeches, for I am both stoutlie determi­ned, and sufficientlie furnished, to make him answer.

Had I no more but the testimony of Theophrastus, who hath left vs in writing; that bodily beawtye is nothing else but secret deceit: And he that will not heere with content himselfe, to him let me produce [Page 23] the aduise of Theocritus: that beawty is an vnknown detriment.

Shall we then be so vnwise and sottish, that (euen at the first sight) wee will pursue our owne euils and misfortunes? more easilie embracing most perillous and damageable beawtie, then deformitie ten times more auailing and profitable? Would God that foo­lish minde might not abide in any one, but rather, that we all would hate what is so vnfit for vs, & from which commeth no goodnes or felicitie.

For the ignorant.
Declamation, 3. That ignorance is better than knowledge.

THe more I thinke heereon, the more I resolue and rest in this o­pinion, that it is better to haue no knowledge in letters, then to be expert or skilfull therein: con­sidering, that such as haue con­sumed the more part of their age in the study of sciences, haue in the ende repented themselues thereof, and haue oftentimes found ve­ry [Page 24] euill successe thereby.

Valerius the great, writing of Cicero (who by good right deserued to be called, not only the father of e­loquence, but euen the fountaine of all excellent ler­ning) saith, that in his latter years, he conceiued such an hatred against letters, as if they had beene the cause of his so many greefes and trauailes. The Em­perour Licinius, Valentinianus, Heraclides, Licianus and Philonides of Malta, haue openlie tearmed the skill in letters; sometime to be a publique plague, & some­time a common poison to men. And I haue found written in many good Authors, that hee which co­uets knowledge, couets vexation, & that from great experience, ensueth (oftentimes) the greatest daun­ger. Likewise it is certaine, that all heresies, as well ancient as moderne, came from men of knowledge: & cōtrariwise, that in people esteemed idiots, or men of little knowledge, haue beene vsuallye noted expresse signes of vertuous workes and good exam­ples.

I highly commend the order among the Lucanes, that no one professing capacity of letters, or estee­med learned, may obtaine any office, or sit as a Ma­gistrate in their parlement: for they stande in feare, least these lettered men (by their great knowledge, which makes them presume so much on their per­sons) should trouble the good order and tranquillity of their common wealth. Nor may this be reckoned but to very good purpose, if we would well consider their insolencie, who vnder shaddow of probation in a colledge, would haue euery one stand bounden or be holding to them, and thinke vnder colour of [Page 25] their faire allegations, with interpretations (God wots) crooked enough sometime, to ouerthrow the best naturall sence in the worlde, and they of dutie ought to be aboue all onely heard, and listened to. Some of them there be, that (like to Mydas) con­found in their obstinate opinions and stiffe-necked conceits, all things whatsoeuer they take in hand.

I cannot imagine, to what ende are auaileable these men so highly learned, who (in honor of their followers) are called fine, polished, curious and inge­nious wits. For if they might serue to gouerne any publique cause; how many nations are seene, with­out the knowledge of lawes imperiall, or of Stoical, or Peripatetical philosophy, so to gouerne & enter­taine themselues, that they out-goe al auncient Cōmon weales.

To thinke that they may serue for the art military, I dare boldly witnesse thus much vnto ye, that I haue knowne more then one or two Gentlemen, and cap­tains wel lettered, who (by the helpe of their books) haue laboured and busied themselues, to point out a field, leuy an armie, put men in arraie, and furnishe their squadrons; which practise neuer returned them any honor. For in truth in matter of warre, we daily behold to happen incident nouelties, and vnaccusto­med stratagems, which neuer before were registred, or put in vse, by the very skilfullest writers in times past. Howe can wee then with reason affirme, the bookes of Frontinus or Vegetius, to be profitable for the art of warre? In my conceit, the good iudgment of a Captaine, ioyned with his long vse and experi­ence in these matters; is sufficient enough for him, [Page 26] without troubling him to turne ouer bookes of the Art militarie.

That these lettered people are meet to guide a house, or gouerne a houshold (which the Philoso­phers called Oeconomia) howe can I agree thereto? when at this day is to be noted, both heere and else­where; how many good and honest mothers of fa­milies, who neuer in their liues studied in any Vni­uersitie, yet both haue and doe well order their hou­ses, & guide their houshold? yea, aboue one or two hundred women for example, whoe (no displeasure to Aristotle or Xenophon) may learnedly reade them a Lecture, and turne them confusedly out of theyr houshold catalogue: so good and right a course doe they carry in these causes. And I doe not doubt, but if those Philosophers or Oeconomikes of times past, were at this daie present to see, how these huswiues gouerne and content each one: themselues would a­uouch, that they might learne of them new precepts & instructions, that better would become their faire bookes and volumes.

May it please ye that I shew ye, how these expert fellowes in letters, euen as by another Cyrces, are trans­formed, and depriued of the greater part of their na­turall power? Finde me out a yong man, lustie and brauely disposed of person, affable, endued and gar­nished with all such things, as are best beseeming his age: let him follow the studie of letters, ye shall find him in short time vnlusty, louttish, vnapt to al things, and as little while (for conference) can he tarry from his booke, as can the fish out of the water.

I pray ye note the lookes of poore Students, how [Page 27] sad they are, melancholy, grim, dreadfull, languish­ing, humorous and heauie, in breefe, the very neerest portrait to a deadly counterfeit, or a long dried ana­tomie. And as for their complexions, they are the hardest in choise that can bee amongst men: euer they are suspitious of some euill, so bad they are thē ­selues, proud, presumptuous, despising all honest companies, mortall enimies to the so noble & sweete sexe feminine, vaunters to the vttermost, and fran­tique inuenters of tales, trifles & inuentions. Which Saint Paule diuinely foreseeing, admonished vs, not to be wise, but soberly minded: fearing, least by o­uer-plunging our selues in the depth of humane do­ctrines, we should fall into farre greater perils & dan­gers: therefore he counsels vs, not to seeke after high and difficult matters, but to abide in feare, without passing the bounds of obedience.

Likewise, did not he shew himselfe, to haue lefte and despised all litterature and worldly knowledge, after hee had gotten the true knowledge of GOD, when he said: nothing was more to be desired, then well to know his maister crucified? That he was not come to preach, garnished with humane wisdome, or rhethoricall cunning? And that the wisdome of this world, was nothing else but follie before God? And that it did nothing else but puffe vppe the heartes of men? And that whosoeuer sought after things ouer high, should finde themselues shut quite out of glo­rie? And these words agree with the saying of Eccle­siasticus: that wee should seeke after nothing, which surmounteth the capacity of our spirit. To proue the same, hath not God menaced by the mouth of his [Page 28] Prophet; to destroy the wisedome of the wise, and to reproue the prudence of the skilfull?

What shall let me from beleeuing, that the wise­dome of this world, was the inuention of the enimy, whom our elders called Daemon: seeing the word Dae­mon, signifieth wise and learned? This was hee that promised to poore Adam (so easie to be deceiued,) the knowledge of good and euill, if he woulde but taste of the fruit which God had forbidden him. Pla­to rehearseth to this purpose, that an euill spirit named Theudas, was the first inuenter of Sciences: & hence it followeth (as I thinke) that we see so fewe learned men, but some of them are wicked, seditious, enuy­ing the glory one of another, lurking deceiuers, and cruell reuengers: which though it be not doone by armes in field like men, yet haue they the meanes of performing the same, in Comedies, beastly Satyres, too sharpe and biting verses, cruell Iambicks, & furi­ous Epigrames.

I woulde willinglie demaund of such, as make doubt of the disprofit and slender value of letters: if they were of such price and esteeme as they make them to be; our great Lords, who are (as euery one perceiueth) very curious of the most faire and preti­ous things in the worlde: woulde they endure such dearth in their houses? Why doth not learning make them so rich & magnificent, as other temporal goods doe? And were it so greatly profitable for youth, as also such an honest recreation for age: I am ashamed to see, that in our great Citties and Townes, the pro­fessors thereof goe from house to house, like such as begge bread with empty wallets. For in truth this is [Page 29] the end of letters followers and fauourers, in these vnhappy and accursed times: not onely to bee beg­gers, but (beyond al other) to be most miserable and male-content. That this is true, doe but note the ve­ry first figure, character, or letter, which wee teache our children in their infancie: is it not the Crosse? be­ginning with all pouertie, going on with anguishe, trouble and greefe, and ending with like dolorous death?

For example, see what was the ende of Socrates & Anaxagoras: who by sentence and decree of the Se­nate of their countreys, were both miserablie poiso­ned. Thales likewise, who died with thirst. Zeno, who was slaine by commandement of the Tyrant Phalaris. Anaxarchus, who was detestably murdered by the commandement of Nicocreon. The great Philoso­pher, and most singular Mathematician Archimides, who was slaine by the souldiers of Marcellus. And Pythagoras likewise, whoe was slaine in companie of three score of his Schollers.

Thinke on the glorious recompence, made to the Philosopher Plato; when after his long trauaile for the cause publike, he was (in the end) sold as a slaue by Dionisius the Tyrant. Anacharsis died suddenlie. Diodorus died in despight, because he coulde not re­solue a question, which was proposed to him by the Philosopher Stilpo. Aristotle, when he saw himselfe out of credit with Alexander, he drowned himselfe in Chalcide in the riuer Eurypus: and Calisthenes his schol­ler was cast forth of the windowes. Cicero had his hed and handes cut off, and his toong pulled out hauing beene before banished from Rome, where he sawe his [Page 30] house ruined, his so deerly beloued daughter ded be­fore his face, and his wife in the armes of his vtter ad­uersary. Seneca died a violent and outragious death. Auerroes the great commenter of Aristotle, was bro­ken with a wheele that passed ouer his bodie. Iohannes Scotus, making his Lecture in England, was stabbed to death by his schollers, with their penkniues.

But leauing these auncient matters, and to speake of them of our time: let vs consider the death of Her­molaus Barbarus, who was banished from the Signo­rie of Venice, because without the consent of them, he had accepted the Patriarches authority of Aquilea, he died by a cole, that tooke holde vnder one of his toes. Domitius Calderinus died also of the plague. The learned counceller or peace-maker, was burned after he was dead, because they coulde not catch him in his life time. Angelus Politianus ended his daies, bea­ting his head against the walles. Sauanarola was bur­ned at Florence, by the commandment of Pope Alex­ander. Peter Lion of Spoleta, was throwne into a well. Iohannes Tissierus, died in an hospitall. Erasmus in ex­ile. The French Poet in like manner, by the misera­ble and implacable sute of the court, euen in his ol­dest yeares. The Lord Iohn Fraunces Pica Mirandula, was slaine by the people of his owne countrey. If I would stand to number all, I shoulde vndertake one of Hercules labours: specially, to recite the misery of them, that haue beene, and euen nowe are (to theyr paine) glad to go seeke their fortune, onely through the cause of learning.

Wherefore is it, that a Cooke, a Horse-keeper, a Gardener or a Peazant, shal be receiued more hono­rablie, [Page 31] and better prouided for in the Courts of prin­ces and great Lordes, then shall a man of great wise­dome? It is because they receiue more profit by such fellowes, then they do by curious students or labou­rers in letters: the countenance and slender seruice of whom, makes them in the Court so little regar­ded, as they are but mocked at for euery worde, so that if any one of them thinke to aduance himselfe in company, by pronouncing three poore words of la­tine: hardly can he haue opened his mouth, but one is ready to call him maister of the Towne, or School-maister of the Colledge, which are wordes of no more regard (by the report of themselues that vtter them) then if one should call him poore and misera­ble wretch: for that is vnderstood, without the spea­king, as vnder the name of an vnthankefull man, are comprehended all the faults that may be alleaged a­gainst him.

Did not one make a law, that whosoeuer shoulde speake of letters, should be greeuously punished and corrected? And hee that shoulde touch a booke, of what science soeuer, shoulde haue his handes either burnt or cut off: with perticuler forbiddings to eue­ry one (vnder the paine of hanging) no more to vse paper, inke, pennes, or inke-hornes, with vtter abo­lishing of the artes of impression, cutting, grauing, or other kind of stamp, in what manner soeuer it should be: to the end, that learning being (by this edict) dri­uen forth of the sight and beholding of men, by the same meanes might be preuented the vnhappinesse, that from thence dailye ensueth: aswell through the greeuous afflictions, that learninges followers suffer [Page 32] in themselues, as also in respect of the great daunger and losse in those places, where the Academies are as­sembled of learnings schollers.

Better it is then to be ignorant then skilfull, better to hate letters, then so deerely to cherishe and loue them. Moreouer, our poore ignorant people, shew not themselues astonied or confounded, of whome (God be praised) I see a sufficient competent nūber, and as it were infinite: but they reioice and thanke God in their harts, for the great Fortune happening to them, by reason of their ignorance. For they re­member, that when good Socrates was iudged gene­rally, and held by the Oracle to be wise: then him­selfe openly manifested to euery one, that it was be­cause he knewe nothing. Likewise, they forget not the goodly prouerbe of Saint Augustine: that the simple are lifted on high, and reioice the heauens: but the learned, with their curious lessons and sciences, shall be ouerthrowne. Lastly they call to mind, that which was so highly said, and reprooued to S. Paule by Festus the iudge: that the multitude of Sciences, and deepe knowledge in thinges, oftentimes puts a man beside himselfe, and carrieth him quite from all good sense.

For Blindnesse.
Declamation, 4. That it is better to be blinde, then to see cleerely.

IF we would in breefe, compare the commodities of sight, with the great hurts it brings to men: we should finde on the one side, all voluptuous delights and plea­sures, which daily ende in bitter­nes, alienation of sense, prouoca­tion to enuie, irritation and commotion against the heart: and on the other side we should beholde, the strength of spirit, better imagination, and contem­plation of things high and heauenly, with perfection of memorie, which more excellently shewes it selfe to the blinde, then to the cleerest sighted: because that their light (which is the force of mans vnder­standing) is neither heere or there disorderly trans­ported.

Now, that memorie is the most noble part of the hart, it is sufficiently made plaine vnto vs, by the Te­stimony of Cicero in his Orator, where hee calleth it the treasure of wisedome. Also by the honour the Greeks haue doone thereto, in naming it the mother [Page 34] of sapience. Beside this, that so many other persons, knowing themselues to be depriued of naturall me­morie; in regard of the estimation they made therof: inuented another, called artificiall, with very deli­cate and pretious oyles, sundry emplaisters, sirrops and drugs, fetcht from very farre countries.

That the blinde are of farre better apprehension and imagination, then the sharpest sighted: it is too euident vnto vs, if we woulde consider, that the po­wers of the soule are in them more equallye assem­bled: withall, that they haue this speciall preroga­tiue, of not beholding so many deformed and disho­nestactions, which are daily to be seen in this world, whereby their spirit might be alienated or turned, from contemplation of high and heauenly matters.

First of all, when a blinde man is led by his little lad along the streets, he is free from beholding a mul­titude of counterfeited monsters: people but halfe made by nature, a thousand toyes on their heades, their bellies all buttons, holding vppe their nose and chins like puppets; with other such like vaine heads, so mishapen and deformed, as Octauianus Augustus would call, the very iestes and mockeries of Nature. He is free from seeing so many troubled with palsies, leprosies, dropsies, goutes, falling euilles, impotent with botches, biles, scabs, blaines, scurffes, and such like.

What shall I say of the graces, that blindnes brings to her children? not suffering them to taste one only greefe or molestation: but giues them leisure and commoditie of power (at their owne ease,) to con­template celestiall beawties and excellences diuine. [Page 35] Heere of was the Philosopher Democritus so zealous, that he made himselfe blind, regarding firmelye and stedfastlie the sun: that by the losse of his bodily eies, he might recouer better vse of the eies of the minde, and with more ease contemplate supernatural things, which otherwise he coulde not so well intend, when he vsed the obiects of this world, which alwaies con­strained him to continuall laughter.

Homer, as blinde as he was, was accounted & held to be the most famous & excellent Poet in all Greece. Blindnesse neuer hindered Dydimus Alexandrinus, but that most elegantly he attained the Greeke & La­tine languages: and which is more, (a thing perhaps incredible) he became very excellent in the mathe­maticall sciences. Blindnes did no waie impeache Claudius Appius, (though he was very olde & weak) but he was daily seene in councell with the Senate of Rome: where most prudentlie hee deliberated on the affaires publique, and gouerned (beside) with great honour, a mighty and innumerable family. To be blinde no way offended Lippius, albeit hee was a most perfect Oratour. What was it the worse for Hā ­nibal, that he had lost one of his eyes? did he therby loose one iote of courage, but pursued the more fu­riously vpon the Romaines? perswade your selues, that if he had lost both his eyes, he woulde haue beene a much more valiant Captaine. See if olde Tobias (af­ter he became blind) did feare or loue God euer a iot the lesse, then he did before.

It was my chance one day to reason and conferre priuately, with certaine of mine acquaintance that were blind, and I remember, that one among the rest, [Page 36] who sometime had beene a dealer in merchandise, sware and auouched faithfully vnto mee: that his blindnesse did no waie grieue or offend him, but hee the more highly thanked God therefore. Because (quoth he) my sight being taken away; I haue like­wise lost the offence of spirit, whereinto I was drawn in diuers places I frequented. And he iustified, that since this good fortune befell him, he trauailed about his affaires into Spaine: where he found himself high­ly contented, that he could not see the great vaunting Spaniard, nor so manye Gentlemen by the dozens, that for fiue shillings of yeerely rent, cause themselues to be entituled, my Lord such a one, or must bee na­med Knights at the least.

Another tolde me, that he caused himselfe to bee led into Germanie, about certaine businesse hee had with the Foulcres: but neuer did he esteeme himselfe so happy, as that he could not behold the manifolde discords among the Lords of the Countrey, so ma­ny deuisions, so many garrisons of Spaniards, with so many new imperiall cuts.

A third man told me, that he had beene in France about traffique of merchandise, where he not a little reioysed, that he could not behold the infinite plea­ders, a Hydra of suites and quarrels, the number-lesse throng of catchers and purloiners of benefices, a world of false accusers and masqued people, chaun­ging as often in opinions, as they doe in habites and attyre. Then breaking forth into a great laughter, if (quoth he) I should heereafter passe into diuers pla­ces of Italie, where I haue accustomablie haunted heeretofore: first of all, I shall no more see in Roma­nia [Page 37] and Lombardy, so many partialities of Guelfs & Gi­belines, so many faire buildings ruined, so many bew­tifull and goodly Citties destroied by factions. I shal no more see the grosse feeding Millanois, the auariti­ous Pauoyan, the mutinous Playsencian, the fantasticall Parmesan, the gracelesse Cremonian, the slothful Man­tuan, nor the proud Ferraran. I shall see no more the prating Florentine, the dissembling Bolognian, the glo­rious Lucane, the vsuring Geneway, nor the boasting Modenan.

And continuing his speech, he said to mee beside, that he imagined himselfe most happy, that the yeer past hee had not beene at Rome, no more to note the excessiue pompe of infinite curtezans, who clad and decked in the habilements of Queenes, triumph on the patrimony of the poore fisher. Likewise no more to behold in Naples, the troopes of Moores, the bands of Ruffians, bawds and brothels: the great number of knights of the broch, who al day doe nothing else, but walke with their noses vppe in the wind like Plo­uers, as well in the fieldes as the Cittye, with white wands in their hands, so expecting their Fortune, to the great detriment of their followers. Nor likewise to see in Sicilie, those great managers of iron-wheeld Chariots: who at the least word offered them, will counterfeit the countenance of another chollericke God Mars, as if they would fight with the sea & the fishes. Nor also to see so many fine dames, ready to be bought for a little, to passe the time awaye with Gentlemen.

In briefe, this good blinde man told me so much, and so sweetly lulled me asleep with his words, as he [Page 38] well-neere made me of the minde, to plucke foorth mine owne eies: for the greefe I haue to beholde in Venice, such a crowde of nice darlings: in Padua, such indiscreet lookes: in Vincenza, such beast-like demea­nour: in Treuiso, such disordered libertie: at Verona, such frantike fury; at Brescia, such miserable auarice; at Bergamo, such scrupulous countenances, with sun­dry such like qualities in other places.

Of force then must they that are cleere sighted, behold such things, as would enforce stones to starte out of the walles, by the great despight and greefe they bring to men. In witnesse of the holye man, who being newly become blinde, by chance happe­ned to meet on the way, with Arrius the father of he­retiques: and hearing among other talke, that Arrius greeued for the accident befalne the good man, the blinde father thus answered. That it was needelesse for him to greeue so much, because (quoth hee) for this blindnesse I highly thanke my God: were it not in any other respect, but only that I may not see thee, that arte such a wicked enimie to God. Saide not good Iob, that hee had made this couenant with his eyes, that they should content themselues with loo­king vppon one onely woman, and not to gaze after any other?

Hence it is, that the Prophet complained so much, that his eies robbed frō beasts, saying: death entered into his heart by the windowes of the body, which are the eies, seruing to ouerthrow mans vnderstand­ing, whereto suddenly they represent and deliuer (without finding any hidden ambush) all that they see and perceiue abroad. And when they looke to [Page 39] vanity, listen what the gentle Poet saith: So soone as I had seene, I was lost.

How happened it to the holy Psalmist, when by the very seeing of Berseba: he was so ouercome with burning and lasciuious regarding her, as he wanted not much of incurring the daunger of death? The Euangelist exhorteth vs, to plucke forth our eyes, if they doe scandalize of offend vs: and when is it that they doe not both these to vs?

If I would seeke further for the benefites of the blinde, I should finde an infinite number. First, they haue no need of spectacles, wherewith to see small thinges, nor of eye glasses, otherwise called Berna­cles, when they trauell in windie weather. In Win­ter they need not feare, that the ouer-much whitenes of the snow, will hurt or offende their sight. They are free from subiection to eie medicines, which they haue need to practise, that are subiect to the eyes in­flamation, to the dilating or inlarging the apple of the eie: to helpe the disease called Scotomie; or when all things in view seeme to be rounde: for illusions: the eye-gellie: the web, pearle, teares fistula, rheume, bleared eies, and other such like diseases. They haue no need to distill the waters of Fennell, Sage, Ver­uaine, or Eye-bright. They need no Aloes infused in wine, or prepared Tuthie, the whites of egges bea­ten in rose water, nor pilles for the sight.

Wherfore I conclude, that it is better to be blind, then to see neuer so well: because the blind sees no­thing that afflicts or torments them; where contrari­wise, the best sighted haue ten thousand obiects, that molest and offendes them without pardon: which [Page 40] doth purchase to them so many anguishes, & brings them into such dangerous extreames, as they cannot well tell how to recouer themselues againe.

How much thinke ye will it displease a poore pil­grime, when he shall see in trauailing on his iourney, a great many hideous horrible serpents, creeping vi­pers, and such like beastes? when he shall see vnder him quick-sandes, quag-mires, downe-fallings, and most fearefull deepe places? when he shall meete to beard him, his most mortall enemie? when he shall see himselfe mocked, scorned and railed at, with all vnseemely gestures both of mouth and hands? Poor eies, of howe many euils are ye the cause, through your owne curiositie? How many follies doe ye de­liuer to the most milde and simple spirit, only to tro­ble the gratious rest thereof? What letters written, or what wordes engrauen, are by yee represented to the poore hart, to fill him full of all bitternesse? Howe many gests and motions doe yee shew to the natural sense, which soone after are the cause, that man liueth in no quiet in his conscience? How many dissimu­lations do ye note, aswell in the Court, as elsewhere, vnder a counterfeit smile, with a calfe-like made cour­tesie, an Italian reuerence, a Iudas-like kisse and em­bracing, and a bare voice offering seruice? Do ye not then account them happy, that haue beleeued, and neuer seene any of these things? Vpon these speeches and reasons, produced on my behalfe, I leaue ye Gē ­tlemen to set downe such iudgement, as to you shall seeme best: assuring my selfe very confidently, that after all considerations, ye will not diminish any part of my due right or equity.

For the Foole.
Declamation, 5. That it is better to be a foole, than wise.

ALbeit the like matter which I am now to proue and defende, hath beene already by two excellent men, deliuered in this honoura­ble assemblie, and by them deli­berated on to their aduantage: It may please ye yet not to thinke it strange, if in regarde of the occasion, which this day offers it selfe, I come as now to gleane and gather af­ter them gone before, if so be I can finde any thinge by them left or omitted, either as vnaduisedlie, or else if perhaps they had not prooues sufficient readie at hand to exchange in the cause.

For the firste aduertisement, I will vse the aduise and opinion of the auncient Philosophers, which was, that to liue securely in this world, they thought it best to vse the counterfeit shadowe of a foole: and they saide, that euen as he who hath some meane to counterfeit well a Prince, Lorde or Gentleman, can [Page 42] doe no lesse for the whyle but enter into the same trauaile, solicitude, cares, paines and greefes, as the person he imitates is subiect vnto: so hee that in this world, will sometimes cunningly disguise himselfe with the masque of folly, as one may perceiue no­thing else by him, but euen natural foolery: (cannot in so dooing) but participate with the happy partes and conditions of a foole, which are of such sort, as the very richest and best pleased in this worlde, are not in any thing like, or to be compared to them.

Witnesse a braue Gentleman, a younger brother, who by mishap, that his elder brother woulde not impart liuings reasonably with him, became a foole: during which Fortune, he had this imagination, that all the ships which daily arriued in the Port of Diepe, were his owne. By meanes of which perswasion, so soone as he vnderstoode of their comming thither, he would walke before them a mile and more on the land, vsing such kinde and cheerefull gestures to thē; as by his words he seemed to thinke and assure him­selfe, that all the marchandize on boorde in the Ha­uen, appertained to himselfe. The like woulde hee doe, when any ships departed thence to Sea, eyther for Flaunders, Spaine, Portugall, England, or any other countrey: he would vaile his bonnet to them a farre of, recommending them to God, wishing them faire winde, a good voiage, and speedy returne. His euill hap at length was such, that his brother (in this time of folly) returning from the warres at Bologna, and seeing his brother come thus before him, with such new manner of salutations: greeuing (as I thinke) at this his happy state of life, hee deliuered him into [Page 43] the handes of the most skilfull Physitians he coulde finde in the countrey, by whose industrie, the happy foole returned to his former disposition of good sense: which made him afterward offended with his brother, because he had depriued him of so great re­creation of spirit, which he confessed he receiued in his pleasing folly: whereof he yet hauing some small remembrance, affirmeth, that neuer before, or since that time, he liued more ioyfully, nor better agreeing with his owne mind.

In like manner, is it not a thing highly to be com­mended, to see a man of meane and base condition, among the inferiour and abiect sorte of people, by vertue of this braue kind of folly, to enter into such an humour; as to weene himselfe to be a Pope, an Emperour, a King, a Duke, or some great Prince or Lord? And withal, to feele in his heart, the self-same affections and contentment of mind, as accustoma­blie are felt by such, as truely are constituted in those high dignities?

Hereof may beare record the Lackey of a Gen­tleman of Aniou, who by the aide and comfort of his fortunate folly, imprinted in his minde the pontifical dignitie: for the administration wherof, at a certain hower of the day, which he had obtained by licence of his maister, he would locke himselfe apart into a chamber, with his confederates and instructed com­panions, who notwithstanding they mocked him, yet tooke great pleasure therein: and there, (after his owne mind) would he appoint a Consistorie, (lyke vnto little children, that in their pastimes doe coun­terfeit the actions of the very greatest personages,) [Page 44] dispatch Bulles, giue benefices, create Cardinals, send embassades, in briefe, he would doe al that he imagi­ned beseemed a Pope: and when the houre was ex­pired, he would returne to his wonted seruice.

Thinke ye that he which walked thorow Paris, & notwithstanding he was all dirtie bedagled, yet sup­posing himselfe to be a Cardinall or Legate, deserued no esteeme in his owne conceit? Hee that named himselfe to be a Prophet? He that preached & wrote himselfe the father of Caine? He that saide he was of the lynage of Zabulon? And another, who with his Scepter & Crowne of gold glistering, thought him­selfe to be an Emperour? Thinke ye not (I say) that such as these are highly contented in minde, & more (perhaps) then if they were such as they ween them­selues to be? What thinke ye of Villemanoche, whoe expected the kings daughter in marriage, and would complaine in all companies where hee came, what wrong was doone him, in that they delaied his mar­riage so long? Deeme yee not such fooles haue as much, or rather more pleasure in these imaginations, then such as rightlye are placed in those dignities? They haue as much by these meanes, in that they partake not in the molestations, which ofte are found in the high estates of great personages, being not tro­bled with gouerning the traine belonging to theyr huge houses.

I cannot well conceiue the cause, why some are so suddenly waspishe, when they are called fooles: it may be said, that they forget the number hath beene alwaies infinite, wherby some haue dared to affirme, that this worlde is a very Cage or mine of such peo­ple. [Page 45] And if all they which holde of that race, would suffer themselues to be written in the rowle or paper belonging to the Prince of fooles, or bee registred in the Abbey of these happy people: there should not neede so much strife and lawe, for calling one ano­ther sot or foole.

For in sooth, it is a name that may beseeme the very greatest and wisest in the worlde: yea, were it to the great king Salomon, who albeit he only among the Hebrewes bare the title of wise: yet beside that, hee well deserued the name of a foole, when he sacrifised to Idols, and entertained so long such a great number of Concubines. Also, of this name were capable the seuen Sages, whom ambitious and lying Greece vaunted to bring forth and nourish: their actions and behauior Cicero affirmeth, that whosoeuer will light­ly runne ouer and cull them out, shall finde them to be more full of follie then wit.

How many haue beene seene since the Creation of the worlde, that haue escaped infinite daungers, only by counterfeiting folly? What might they more haue doone, if they had beene fooles indeed, when the onlye shaddowe was to them the cause of such good? How many haue we knowne and heard of, that haue beene absolued of theftes, murders and o­ther misdeeds, by supposition that they indeed were fooles? Thinke yee that heauen dooth customablye giue, so faire and excellent priuiledges to others, as to people diuine and celestiall?

The farther I wade in contemplation of follie, the more pleasing I finde it, and garnished with all faire commodities. See howe a foole troubles him selfe [Page 46] with a kingdomes affaires, or fortifiyng of a Cittye. See what paine he puts himselfe to, in gouerning an housholde, or pertaking with one Prince or other: yet notwithstanding, we see such as are esteemed the wisest, to iniury themselues heereby, and wexe very olde with such molestations of the minde. May it please ye to vnderstand the difference, which I finde betweene the foole and wise man? Regard the pas­sions and affections in them both. First of all, the foole is not any thing curious in his meate or drinke, neyther cares for fine decking and clothing himselfe: they whom we call wise, neuer haue enough, and ne­uer are satisfied with the goods of this world: neither can all humane industry, or the very goddesse aboū ­dance with hir great Cornet, suffice their insatiable desires.

Now iudge hereby, which of these two come neerest the obseruation of Gods commandement: who forbiddeth vs in his Gospell, not to be carefull for our food or raiment. Beside, the foole makes no esteeme of honours and worldly dignities: he con­temns great preheminences, refusing the places and seates honourable in magnificent companies. Con­trariwise, they that holde themselues so wise, seeke nothing at this day but worldly honour. And to at­taine superiour dignities, they feare not to endure heat or cold, they forget the discommoditie of great trauaile, as also losse of rest by day and night, to the hazard oftentimes of their liues so deerely beloued, and by them held in such pretious account.

The foole feeles not himselfe prouoked with so many pricks of Fortune: he meddles not with sights [Page 47] or combats: he hath no Lawe-pleadings, nor quar­rels, wherby to get or defend his goods: he hath not such paine in attending on the Court as others haue, to be entertained by one or other: he yeelds not him self (for the miserable requital of two or thre crowns) a buckler to ten thousand bullets of shot, musquets or harguebuzes: he breaks not his neck in riding post after offices, benefices or confiscations: he languishes not in pursuing the loue or fauour of Ladies: hee paies no taxe or tribute: lastly, he is not subiect to a­ny one, but liueth in perfect franchise and liberty. He is permitted and licensed, to speake what himselfe thinks good, touching the dealings of Princes & pri­uate persons, without encurring thereby any danger of imprisonment or corporall punishment. He hath no need of Rhethoricall cunning, to make him selfe attentiuely listened vnto; but bestowes on each one the ioyous pastimes of his meriments.

I stand in need of a whole sourse of eloquence, wherewith I might thorowlie paint foorth and dis­cipher, the honest vertues of most pretious follie: the contrary whereof, hath beene cause of the punishing of an hundred thousand iniuries, and of ouerthrow­ing the intelligence and actions of many great perso­nages. I find, that Fortune hath euermore beene ve­ry carefull, in bestowing perticular aide vpon fooles, and defended them (as her most deere children) frō infinite perils and dangers.

Likewise wee see by experience, that the greater part of fooles liue longer and more happily, then the wise doe. Wherefore should we thinke this to be so: but because they giue not themselues to any melan­cholie, [Page 48] neuer meddle with Lawe-causes, debates or quarrels, neither mollest themselues with matters publique or priuate? which makes me say and affirm vnto ye, that folly (euen as Poesie) is somewhat ce­lestiall, and filleth the hartes of her children, with a certaine spirite of prophesie and diuine furie: by meanes wherof, they seeme agreeable to euery one, and purchase very great esteeme and fauour in the eies of Princes.

You shall finde by experience, that many great & wealthy Lords, turne their faces from company and conference with wise men, yea, such as are saide to haue the greatest learning: that they may intertaine pleasure with a foole, and commune familiarlie with him: yea, sometimes they will leaue their best and most auncient seruantes or fauorites, to delight and bestow countenance on the first foole that comes be­fore them.

Is it not maruellous, that we shall neuer see a man of great knowledge indeede: but hath some part of this pretious folly in him? Though ye woulde pro­duce neuer so many learned men, or of what profes­sion else so euerye please: be they Philosophers, O­rators, Painters, Statuaries, Musitians, Builders, yet they haue some tast heereof, and generally all people of learning whatsoeuer. Where shall yee finde one singular Poet at this day, that doth not participate in this folly? Euery one knoweth, that the Poet deepest skild therein, is accounted most excellent. And if the greate Philosopher Plato had not had, more then a reasonable portion of this diuine folly; thinke yee that he had deliuered so many faire & excellent mat­ters, [Page 49] which we haue at this day after his maner? And yet you are ashamed, to be accounted or called fools.

The inuenter of the Italian Cardes, whereat they haue a play or pastime called Tarault, did (in my cō ­ceit) very ingeniouslie, when he put the Deniers or monyes, and Bastons or clubs in combate togither, as the very encountring of force and iustice. But yet he deserued more praise, for giuing (in this play) the most honourable place to the foole: as we do to the Ace, which we should rather call Nars, that in dutch signifieth a Foole. This deuiser well noted the great seruitude, whereto they most commonly are subiect, that couet a place among the very wisest: for it be­houes them to haue so many discretions, so manye respects, so many considerations, (wherwith the hap­pie foole neuer troubleth himselfe;) so that they are constrained oftentimes, to submit themselues, and continue like countenance, and daily (against theyr natures) to seeme graue and seuere.

The Foole doth not repose any confidence in his owne wisedome, neither hath recourse to the subtle­tie and deceits of this world. He neuer rests himselfe on the support and fauour of other, whereby anye harme may happen to him: for God hath him in his custodie and safegarde. Which is a worde, whereat (our Catoes at this day) will easily enter into choller. But they must lightly passe it ouer, and by constraint of verity confesse it true (if they will giue but neuer so little regarde to the holy Scriptures:) there they shall finde, that the wisedome of this world hath byn more sharpely taxed, and with more greeuous arrests condemned, then folly. And yet our bold ouer-wee­ners, [Page 50] will goe contrary to this diuine word: to take part with that, which God the Creator, not onelye hath reproued among men, but likewise greatly ha­teth.

I finde that the very greatest, and most renowmed Nations in Europe, haue (long while since) gotten some title or marke of folly. To beginne with the Gaules, did not Saint Paule call them foolish Gallathi­ans? Albeit the prowesse and strength, which they haue daily shewen in deedes of Armes: may suffici­entlie testifie from East to West, yea, euen to the An­tipodes; at the ende and limits of which regions, hath their Ensignes beene most brauely displaied. The Portugals by their haughtie enterprise (who notwith­standing haue beene reputed foolish) passed so farre as the Indiaes: where with losse and damage of their men, they conquered many places in those Coun­tryes, and got by these meanes, the commoditie to traffique with many places, before not inhabited.

This is it which makes them so proud in the trade of merchandise, and brag of the excellencie of their Lishbone, enritched with so faire a port of the sea, also two so wel proportioned mountaines, at the entrāce, and the floud with golden sandes. As for the Ger­maines, it is well knowne that they haue a large share heerein: especially they, who (in imitation of wo­men or children,) so often change into many opini­ons, and maisters seruices. For this it may be saide, that Caesar in his Commentaries did them not so much honour, as to call them valiant champions, or prudent in affaires of warre.

If we will passe so farre as into Italie, we shall finde [Page 51] many goodly and noble Citties among the rest, that serue as great or very faire Cages, to fooles of all fa­shions, and that they are (in fauour of such an estee­med matter) the most honourably scituated in al the Countrey; and by the great number of fooles con­tained in them, they are diuinely embellished and in­ritched, with the very cheefest excellencies, and no­ble priuileges that can be desired. That this is true, let vs consider the excellent scituation of auncient Sienna, for the honest libertie wherof, the King (not many daies past) so earnestlie trauailed. You shall there beholde, as a matter of antiquity (to preserue fooles in health) erected a pleasant & beautiful buil­ding, enuironed with the most sweet and gratious aire in the world, garnished with rich and honoura­ble lodgings: villages neere hand of great receit, na­turall Bathes very pure and healthfull. Moreouer, as with men, so is it well furnished & adorned with Ladies gentle and courteous, young people so well disposed as may be, good musitians and Rhetorici­ans, as any cittie else thereabout: except the ancient Vniuersitie adioyning, and the newe Academie of the Intronati, who by the meanes of their so highlie fauoured folly, do (in time of peace) thinges of in­comparable pleasure and recreation.

What shall I say to ye of Parma? where to main­taine fooles in pastimes, is a very faire plaine of grasse, rounded & neighboured with many pleasant moun­taines? How fertile is it likewise of noble and puis­sant families, and couragious souldiours; whoe by vertue of their singular follye, beeing assisted with the aide and succour of the French, are redoubted [Page 52] and feared of all their neighbour countries? I will hold my peace of the Parmesane cheese, whereof, not­withstanding that I haue tasted, yet I cannot forbeare but say in my hart: that if for that meate our Father Adam had transgressed, in my conceit hee had beene somewhat excuseable, nor should I (after taste there­of) haue any desire to the Nectar and Ambrosia of great Iupiter.

O how they of Verona, Brescia and Venice were be­holding to worthy folly, when they made answere to K. Lewes the twelfth, that they were wise inough: whereby they constrained him, to send them so ma­ny French-men as were accounted fooles, because their wisedome and magnificence, knew not how to resist th'others forse & prowesse. So were the fools of the saide king, Regentes and maisters ouer the wise Venetians, as before they had been ouer the Genewaies & Millaineses: & as long time before that, the fools that were led by the great Frenche Captaine, were maisters ouer the mighty and wise Romaines.

Too long woulde the rehearsall be, of fooles and Arch fooles, that are to be found enclosed within the Citties of Italie. Wherefore to finishe this discourse, I will thus frame my conclusion, that fooles ought to be singularlie esteemed and commended: bicause God doth them so much fauour, as hee hath chosen (by them) to confound and ouerthrow the wisdome of this world: withall, that the most noble Citties & puissant Nations, ought to be esteemed much more for folly, then wisedome.

For him that hath lost his worldly Honours and Preferments.
Declamation, 6. That a man ought not to be greeued, though he be despoiled of his goods and honours.

I Am not a little abashed, for what cause the noble men of our time, make so much adoo, and mooue such quarrell and contention, for the losse of their fraile and slippe­ry estats: seeing it followeth vp­on necessitie, that one day they must needes be dispossessed and taken from them, if not by force, yet by the meanes of death, who, of his owne nature, imposeth an ende on all things. And I see no cause or reason, why they (being subiect to so many humaine passions and fortunes, as euen the ve­ry poorest & basest condition in the world:) shoulde presume and hazard themselues, before so manye persons, (of greater valour perhaps then themselues) for aduancement and superiority, and yet they take scorn to be made of like mettall as they are, to whom [Page 54] by right of nature, they are altogither equall & sem­blable.

An excellent Philosopher, and of very great re­putation in his time, maintained, that the rich hadde euer some occasion, to contend with their riches and temporall goods, as also beautifull persons with their bodilie graces: But the greatest and most excellent contention, that men ought indeed to haue among themselues, were to striue, who should surmount ech other in gentlenesse and honestie: and the very high­est preheminence, that should bee sought for in this world, were to enuie one another, who shoulde bee most liberall, courteous and affable.

For this cause, Dioclesian was praised & esteemed, among the wise men of his time, when by his mo­destie, he deigned to make refusall of the Romain Em­pire, which then was farre greater and better proui­ded, then euer it had beene before: in imitation of whom, many other great persons, haue since beene moued to doe the like. Such an one was the Vnckle to great king Charlemaine, who became a Monke at Mont Cassin, where hee liued the remainder of his yeares, most holy and religiouslie: drawing (by his example) to the like, many Barons and great Lordes of the Realme of France.

Antiochus King of Syria, being by the Romaines de­priued and deposed from the iurisdiction which he had by the mountaine Taurus: came and rendered sollemne thanks therefore to the Senate, commen­ding them; because heereby he found himselfe well deliuered and disburdened, of such a great & weigh­tie molestation. Heracleus and Galerian, in like man­ner [Page 55] eased & discharged themselues, from the superi­oritie & rule they had ouer the people: & gaue their delight altogither to the pleasure of husbandrie. And why hath not the like minde continued since then, in the harts of our Noble men to this instant? What mean our wise men, that they disswade not the fan­sies of great Lordes, from this endlesse heate and de­sire of rule, which bringeth nothing else therewith, but an ouer-feruent and ambitious will? That it is so, looke where such couetous and ambitious men beare sway: there is slender iustice, the rich eate the poore, and the Nobles out-rage the Peasants.

The Inhabitants of the Isle Taprobane, hadde (in mine opinion) a very worthye and commendable custome, when they vsed to elect for their Prince and Gouernour, such an one among them; whom they had knowne and had proofe of a long time, to bee a true desirer of the profit of their weale publique: and him likewise, by right and semblable order, they would againe deiect and depose, if by any meanes he swerued or changed from his right course. I haue heard, that they of Dace and Bohemia went very neere this custome: but it came to passe, that since those times, they coulde not make choise of any better. I could wish, that such as deserue the gouernement of Signiories and common weales, shoulde be drawne and compelled thereto (as it were) perforce: and by the same meanes, the gate to be barred against coue­tousnesse, greedinesse, ambition, violence and de­ceipt.

But what makes me speake thus? Marie because I haue knowne in Italie, certaine Lordes & gouernors [Page 56] of the people, to lead their liues after a very strange course or manner, bearing capitall hatred to their poore subiects: Lords that haue had no other care, but heere and there licentiouslie to reuell, and disho­nour the very honestest maidens in their iurisdiction, drawing them violentlie (by meanes of certaine ruf­fians, which they entertaine as hounds onely for this vile purpose) forth of the best houses in their townes and Cittyes.

Poore blinde men, destitute of naturall sense, is this the manner your elders taught ye, whereby to rule and guide your subiects? Was it thus, that the good Lordes of times past, the vertuous Princes, as well Ecclesiasticall as secular (whom Homer woulde so honourably call, pastors of the people) were wont to doe? This so beast-like and dishonest custome, doth it any iote sauour of true Christianity? They are no pastors that commit such insolencies: they are rauening wolues, and destroyers of all humane so­cietie.

Some are to be found in Italie, and else-where, to whom is publikely giuen this faire report, that they dilligently enquire after their people, not to chastise or reforme their vices and bad behauior: but con­trariwise, to enquire secretlie, who amongest them hath the best pursse, and after knowledge thereof, seeke some couerture to make them lose their goods: subborning false witnesses against them, who with­out any reason, shal enforme false plaints or quarrels against them: or else by greeuous iniuries and out­rages, prouoke them to vndertake Armes, where lik­wise, false villaines (appointed for the nonce) taking [Page 57] some intended cause of offence, presently informe or complaine against them, and hauing seazed on their bodies, afterward (by these means) their riches comes into the Lordes hand, who (vnder coulour of iustice,) causeth them to be condemned by Iudges, in greeuous paines and amercements: so getting subtillie (yet with some colour of excuse) their goods, by way of confiscation. Crueltie well besee­ming a Tragedie, and which (since the creation of the world) was neuer the like heard of.

A Baron of Lombardie one day made this brag, as for a great proofe and example of his singular vertue & prowesse; that (not long before) he had gotten the spoile of one of his mightiest subiects, emptiyng his Garners, seazing on his goods perforce, proceeding euen to the imprisonment of his body. The matter obiected against him, (by forged witnesses at the Lordes appointment,) was, that he had runne the Hare, and flowne the Partridge vpon his land: albe­it the poore honest Gentleman, was more readie to chase a good piece of Beefe then Hares, and had ne­uer run (farre of neere) after strange beastes or birds. Yet notwithstanding this good deed, the honest minded Baron (which matter most of all displeaseth me) would make profession of sanctitie, religion and de­uotion.

Lord God, that thy patience is thus great, nor is it without great reason, that thou art called full of pa­tience and longanimitie: seeing that so sweetly thou endurest the dealings, of these so cruel and insuppor­table monsters, brought forth & borne on the earth, only to consume and deuoure thy poore people. As­sure [Page 58] ye, that I haue seene in the kingdome of Naples, many monsters of this fashion and nature, hauing harts like Lions, and nailes like Griffons, to whome nothing seemed impossible, concerning inhumanity and impietie.

And with these few examples, I am constrained to content my selfe, without spending time to bring ye other proofes, for defence of this present occasion: because the greefe I both find and feele, in rehearsing these enormities, driueth me into ouer great afflicti­on, making my hart so weake and feeble, as all the re­sidue of my vitall powers want their helping vse.

Now in truth let vs thus reason a while. What is he who will denie, that such deedes and behauiour of life, is not sufficient to prouoke the anger of God a­gainst vs? And to cause, that those Lordes, through long space of time, that they haue thus ruled & held their places, should in a moment be elsewhere trans­ported? Thinke ye, if the very greatest Lordes, aswel spirituall as temporall, woulde at this daye doe their endeuour, and employ themselues night and day (as best beseemes them) to well gouerne and admonish their people: wee shoulde finde such a number of men, to couet and reach after kingdomes and Signi­ories, as now we doe? and such as are so mal-contēt, to be depriued of their great charges and vexations, as now with greefe we may behold?

It is then (in conclusion) great folly in any Lord, to be displeased or offended at the losse of his honors and liuings: but rather with such fortunes he ought to reioice and be glad, as being (by so good occasi­on) discharged of a burden so greeuous and heauy. [Page 59] For this is my opinion, that it were better for him to lose his worldly estate and dignitie, then himselfe to be thereby lost and destroied for euer.

For Drinkers.
Declamation, 7. That Drunkennesse is better than Sobrietie.

I Did heeretofore (so breefely as I could) deliuer vnto ye, the great excellence and noble na­ture of wine: that I might af­terward inferre, in what great honour & reputation he ought to bee, that especiallie loues it, and longest continueth in de­light thereof. And albeit it seemeth to many, a verie hard and laborious enterprise, by reason of the abun­dance of good wordes and well conuaied language: wherewith it is necessary they should bee thorowlie furnished in such a cause: yet neuerthelesse, will I boldly deliuer my opinion, though I am vnfurnished of that diuine furie, which ordinarilie worketh mar­uellous [Page 60] matters in our spirits; whereof (in this need) might I receiue neuer so little fauour, I should farre better satisfie your desires, that are bent with atten­tion, to heare what I can say in this matter.

To proceed in our discourse, I finde that the great vertue and excellence of wine, hath beene of our el­ders so intirely known and approued: that the high­ly esteemed Asclepiades did it so much honour, as to couple the faculties and vertues thereof, with them of the very cheefest Gods. Which is agreeable with the consent of holy scripture, whereby was autenti­callie pronounced, that wine was sent to men, as by the especiall grace and immortall gift of God, there­with oftentimes to refresh and recreate their spirites, ouer much weakened and trauailed with long cares, which they suffer continuallie in this worlde. And heerewith altogither agreeth the opinion of good Homer, in many places of his diuine Poesie. And whosoeuer shal require of me greater proofe & assu­rance, I pray them to consider, how that truth it selfe (which is the thing that hath, and yet at this day doth ouer-rule the greatest case in the world) from all anti­quitie, holdeth principall consent with wine. This is it which made place for the auncient prouerbe, knowne sufficiently of euery one, that in Wine is truth to be found: wherein fooles, children and drunken men, are most accustomed to display it.

Wherefore I cannot sufficiently maruell, at the great fault of learned Democritus, who would some­times maintaine, that truth lodgeth her selfe in the bottome of a well: this is greatly against the aduise and opinion of all the Greekes, which euermore de­fended, [Page 61] that her lodging continually was in VVine. VVhereto very well consenteth Horace, one of the most excellent Latine Poets; who so soundly confir­med this matter in his learned verses, made and com­posed by the helpe of this sweet liquor, wherewith his stomach so plentifully abounded, as hee coulde deliuer it backe againe forth at his eies. To the same purpose, the great Philosopher Plato would prooue and maintaine, that wine was a very firme and sure foundation of mens spirites: by the fauour and ver­tue whereof, I may easilie coniecture, that he founde the inuention of his goodly Ideas, of his numbers, and of his lawes so magnificent: also that with the aide of this sweet drinke, he spake so deepelie on the gratious argument of loue, and likewise disposed his so well ordered Common-wealth. VVithall, he de­fended, that the Muses flourished farre and neere, in the very smell of Bacchus liquor: and the Poet that drunke not profoundly therof, could frame no verse excellent, high-reaching, or of good measure.

But leauing verse and Poesie, let vs come to the kind drinkers of cleere water: I would willingly de­maund of them, what good they can receiue in this world, by vsing such an vnsauorie drinke? In the first place, how can a drinker of water well accomplishe housholde dutie: when the naturall seede is more moist then any thing else, and lesse strong for the pro­creation of children? VVhich is the cause such peo­ple are alwaies weake, feeble, sicke and colour-lesse. Likewise, ye neuer sawe a drinker of water, but was depriued of the true strength of all his members, and hardie courage of hart. He hath so little stomach, & [Page 62] so weake an appetite to digest his meates; as com­monly his life is short, or else vnhealthfull. For this cause it was, that Saint Paule, knowing Timothie (al­beit he was very yong, & in the strength of his age) to take delight in drinking nothing but water: admo­nished him, to vse therewith a little wine, if it were but for the onely health of his stomach, and preuen­tion of such diseases, whereto (by his complexion) he was ouermuch subiect.

I await vpon this point, the reply of some opinia­tiue person, who will tell me, that such was not the aduise of Cistus Bullengerus, nor yet of Nouellus Tricon­gius, who dranke three measures of wine daily, called Congii, which contained three gallons and three pintes of our measure: for which the Emperour Ti­berius promoted him to honour, and at the last made him Consull of Rome. I againe replie on the contra­rie, that such was the opinion, of the most wise and prudent king of all auncient memorie, who saide in his Prouerbes, that wine comforteth and refresheth the hartes of men: likewise, it is witnessed by the cō ­sent and testimonie of all Phisitians, as the most sin­gular remedy to chase greefe from the mind of man.

But if peraduenture, some misbeleeuing huma­nist, will not giue so much credit to the worde of so great a wise man, as to the precepts of auncient Phi­sitians: let him then consider and note well, what at this day is to be found written by Hippocrates, Galen & Oribasus: that wine serueth for a medicine to the cold and dulled sinewes; giueth comfort to the weary and trauailed eies, bestoweth an appetite on the tast-lesse stomach; reioyceth the sad and afflicted spirites; ba­nisheth [Page 63] the imbecillity of the members; giueth warmth to the body; prouoketh vrine, restraineth casting; moueth sleepe; taketh away ill digestion; consumeth moist humors; and maketh a kindly con­sent in the bodie. Galen saith moreouer, that wine greatly auaileth against wearisome complexion of age; moueth the harts of men to force and prowesse; recreateth naturall heate; and giueth vigor to the spi­rits.

O how well did that good Lady Hecuba (of whom Homer speaketh so honourablie) knowe the pretious nature of wine: when (aboue all things) she exhor­ted her valiant sonne Hector, to cheere vp and reuiue his members, wearied by continuall trauaile he en­dured in Armes, with drinking of this diuine liquor? The vertue whereof, learned Pindarus knew well e­nough, which made him a peerelesse heroycall Poet: neuer could he haue accomplished his so highe and excellent Poeme, by the vertue and goodnes of wa­ter, but changing his stile, into the great praise & no­ble description of the vertue of wine: the chiefest & most notable men in the worlde, made likewise such price and estimation thereof, as the more part of thē ioyned on his side, and martched vnder his Ensigne. For example, let vs remember the holy man Noah, who first planted the vine, and the fauour that hee bare to wine. Neither was it lesse loued by Agamem­non, Marke Anthonie, Lucius Cotta, Demetrius Tiberius and their children, Bonosus, Alcibiades, Homer, Enni­us Paccu [...]ius, Cossus, Philip, Heraclides and many other, who (for this cause) were neuer reputed the lesse wise or vertuous.

[Page 64]And if we should need, to make a more ample discourse on this behalfe, by such nations as were ad­dicted to this drinke: we shall finde, that the Tartares greatly subiected themselues thereto: and muche more the Persians, whose custome was, to consult of their grauest and greatest matters of importance, a­mongst their cups and bottels of wine. And so were the Germanes wont to doe, according as Tacitus wit­nesseth, making the description of their complexi­ons. The Macedonians in like manner, were beyond all things else great louers of wine: for whom, their Emperour Alexander instituted, the most braue fight of drinking with carowsing.

King Mithridates was greatly giuen to wine: and yet (for all that) ceased not to warre manfullye a­gainst the Romaines, for the space of forty yeares to­gether. I am very sorie, that I want apte wordes, and tearmes worthye, whereby to expresse the singular vertue, which wine of it selfe bestoweth on the harts of men: I am well assured, that if I could recount them all vnto ye, they would driue ye into no little maruell or admiration.

But say now in sooth, doth not wine deserue su­preme praises, in making a sluggard or grosse concei­ted person, to become a sweet, pleasant and affable, man? A Lourden or lobcock, to be a man apte and skilfull? Of a coward or faint harted crauen, to make a man hardy, bold and couragious? who (without this meane) should finde himselfe alone, and euen starke naked, as it were, though he be engirt with a thousande other defences. Hath not Greece by the meanes of wine, wunne fame and honour thorow all [Page 65] Europe? And in like case Bohemia and Germanie? what shall I say of Polonia, and generally of all Dalmatia? What is spoken of Italie, I will referre my selfe to the report of Plinie, who writes, that drunkennesse raig­ned there in his time in such sort: as they would not only drinke themselues vnderfeet, but likewise com­pell their horses and mares to drinke wine vnmeasur­ably: so much was drunkennes (through all parts of the world) praised, celebrated, and helde in such ac­count and esteeme, as he that would not be drunke, at the least once a moneth, was not reputed a friend­ly companion.

Yong Cyrus would needes be accounted worthie to rule, because he especiallie, vndertooke to drinke a greater quantitie of wine, then any other in his king­dome: yet felt he not therby any perturbation of spi­rit. Plutarch, in the life of Licurgus, giues this good note to the Spartanes, that it was a custome amongest them, to wash their new borne childrens noses and eies with wine: to make them more strong, health­full, and the better able to endure all paines whatso­euer. Infinite power of wine, in howe many kindes doest thou shew & deliuer thy selfe helpeful to men? wel hast thou acquainted them with sufficient proofe of thy vertue, when the very least part of thy power, can abate and vtterly destroy the strength of deadlie Hemblock.

Wherefore doe ye thinke good Hesiodus, recom­mended and enioyned by his learned verses, that twentie daies before the rising of the dogge starre, and twentie daies after: onely pure wine shoulde be drunke, without tasting one drop of water? If this [Page 66] custome had beene entertained and obserued, by the greate Lycurgus of Thrace: he had not beene so dis­honestlie cast headlong into the Sea, for putting wa­ter into his wine. To this effect serues vs, the opini­on of Celsus, a very excellent Physition, who among other precepts, ordained (touching the gouernment of health) to drinke sometimes beyond measure. And to proceed a little further, let vs consider, how many profitable medicines, bathes & emplaisters are made with wine: and the Hircanes would wash the bodies of their dead with wine, either to purifie them, or perhaps, because they imagined, that by the vertue of this good liquor, they might be recalled or broght to life againe.

Maruell not then if good drinke bee pleasing to common people, seeing we finde, that the verie wi­sest and best learned, haue alwaies maintained the lawe, held and allowed among the Greekes in theyr meetinges and banquets, which was: that so soone as any one came among them, during their feast time, they would constrain him to drink, or get him gone: which yet at this day is obserued in Germanie, if not of all, yet at the least of the greater number.

I will not blab, that the puissance of wine had som­time such authoritie: as to make the Seneses take Armes, and thereby to obtaine such victories, as are worthy to be registred in perpetuall Annales. Nor will I tell, howe in the yeere of the foundation of Rome, three hundred and eighteene: Luc [...]us Pyrrhus was sent against the Sarmates, whome by the aide of wine onely, hee conquered, made subiect, and yeel­ded tributarie to the people of Rome. Wine was af­terward [Page 67] in so great reputation with our fore-fathers: as Mezentius, to recouer onely some quantity ther­of for his disease (according as Varro hath left to vsin writing) gaue succour to the Rutillians against the La­tines.

And if it were lawfull in this case, to produce holy Scripture, doe we not finde, that our Lorde, at the wedding in Cana of Galile, miraculouslie vouchsafed, to change water (being a thing lesse good and excel­lent) into wine most delicate and pretious? VVith wine were the wounds of the poore Samaritane wa­shed. And beside, some say, that good olde Abra­ham made his daily offerings to God, with the best wine in his vaults.

I could willinglie proceed further in this matter, which especially pleaseth me beyond all other: were it not, I haue alwaies shunned odious prolixitie: wherefore I will stay my selfe in this place; earnestlie entreating each one of ye, to embrace this so sweete desire of wine, and to forsake the simple course of sobrietie, because it maketh men so melancholy, and bestowes on them such slender strength and vigour courage.

For Sterilitie.
Declamation, 8. That the barren woman is more happie, then the Childe-bearing.

I Knowe not by what reason it should be maintained, that bar­rennesse is in any sort hurtfull or offensiue: considering it is the meane, to make strange affected and fantasticall woman, to be­come more pleasing, benigne, & ready to obey hir husbād. Which contrariwise is not commonly found in a fruitfull woman: who neuer wanteth height of heart, and such bolde hardinesse withall, as is maruellous to note. Nor is it without reason, considering the woman beholdes so manie faire and pretty children, that depend only vppon hir commandement, and with so great reuerence obey her wordes or signes: heereby shee is puffed vppe in such sort, as she thinkes she should not be a wife, or companion to her husband only, but indeed, Ladye and mistresse ouer her house and familie.

And if (for example) the reports of fundry pla­ces [Page 69] might serue, I would (aboue all other) willinglie perswade ye to this one. That I being one day at Li­ons, deuising priuately with a very faire and young woman, as is the manner in this Citty heere: we en­tred into talke, concerning the braue fashion of a gar­ment, which one of his neighbours ware, and hadde caused newly to be made. When I gaue her coun­cell, to haue such another: she began to sigh marue­louslie. Now I knew her husband to be rich inough, able to content her in a greater desire, and not to giue her one, but a doozen farre better: wherefore Lady (quoth I) why speake ye not to your husband, who can and will heerein satisfie ye? She answered, she durst not, neither would she require it, bicause she had not yet as so wel deserued: but if it pleased God to fauour her so much, as to sende her one or twoe sweet yong babes, she shoulde haue the meanes to aske of him other thinges then a new gowne. It hap­pened according to her wishe, that a yeere after, she was deliuered of two male children at one burthen, so soone as she saw her desire accomplished: she, who before had beene so kind and louing to her husband, began to holde all her housholde in such subiection, as the poore Gentleman had no better helpe, but e­uen to forsake his house: now beholde what fruite comes by this kind of domesticall increase.

As for the aduantages that ensue by barrennesse: I finde so great a number of them, as it is impossible for me to acquaint yee with them all. First of all, if thou haue a barren wife: consider, thou shalt not need to doe as many doe, nursse other folks childrē. It shall not displease thee, to heare the stir she makes, [Page 70] when thy wife is sicke with childe: nor shalt thou a­bide the painefull trouble, during the month of her downe-liyng: nor shalt thou heare the cryinges and cradle-noise, to waken thee out of thy first sleepe. Thou shalt bee free from the strifes, and perpetuall molestations, of iniurious and vnnaturall nursses. And to conclude, thou shalt not feele that yikesome anguish: in seeing them die by thee, or in thy pre­sence.

Witnesse heereof let serue the wise Solon, who be­ing one day gone to visite his friend Thales, that then for more quietnes of studie, was gone not far off frō the Citty of Myletum. And seeing no children goe vp and downe before his house, he maruelled great­lie thereat, and conceiued but rudely of Thales, that hee hadde no care of linage to ensue him. Thales within few daies after, would returne the like to his companion, and came to visite him euen in his lod­ging. And while they discoursed on many thinges, there entred to them a yong Lad (who before hadde beene instructed for the purpose by Thales:) he said, that he was come from Athens to see the Phyloso­pher, and to enquire, if he would command him any thing thither, for which cause only came nowe to salute him. Solon dilligentlie enquired of him, if hee knew any matter of newes, and how all things fared at Athens. The yong youth answered, he knewe no other thing, but the death of an honest & wise yong man, for whom all the Cittie mourned and lamented at his departing; because he was saide to be the son of a wise Philosopher of that Cyttie, who as then was absent, and euery one accounted well of him, [Page 71] but his name he had then vtterlie forgotten. O poor and vnhappie father (cried out Solon) being mooued with feare and trembling.

Then afterwarde, cariyng suspition of his owne sonne in his minde, he could not forbeare from de­maunding, if perhaps the name of the dead childes father, was not Solon? he answered, that it was Solon, for so he heard him called. Then the poore Philoso­pher began to weepe, and to beate his head against the faire walles: so that if he had not swouned in the place, he was in danger, had the doores beene open, to haue runne into the fieldes, and there haue raun­ged vp and downe as madde or frantike. Thales see­ing himselfe reuenged, and that he had preuailed e­nough against him: after he had dawned him to re­membrance, by the helpe of vinager and colde wa­ter, he saide. Now thou seest Solon, the cause which hath with-held me so carefully, from listening to the desire of children: in that it can so easily offend the sence of such a man as thou art, whome I esteemed the firmest and most constant in the worlde. After­ward, he let him vnderstand the fallacie, to shew him, whence proceeded his slender affection to haue any linage.

I would faine learne of him, that is so earnestlie this way addicted: how doth a woman knowe what her children will be, when shee hath brought them foorth? For but by the issue of women, had euer the Romaine Empire beene tormented with such horrible monsters, as were Caligula, Nero, Commodus, and Bas­cianus? Had they euer liued vppon the earth, if Mar­cus Antonius, Domitian and Septimius had not byn mar­ried, [Page 72] or at least had met with barren women?

Augustus would often wish, that of his wiues hee might neuer haue children, and woulde many times call his daughter and Neece two horse-leaches, that destroied and eate vppe his daies, with great and extreame greefes. The selfe-same words might poor Agripina haue vsed, who was mother to the cruel and hated Nero. Likewise the good father to Phraates K. of Parthia, when he beheld his sonne so cruelly slain; and at length, without any remorse of conscience, the homicidiall sworde to be sheathed, in his owne poore and ouer-wearied aged bodie.

Epaminondas, a king of so high spirit and most no­ble wisedome, liued a long time without marriyng, when being one day reproched and bearded by Pe­lops, as in the way of reprehension, for making no re­gard of procreation of children, for aide of the com­mon wealth, which already declined and fell to ru­ine: he returned him this quicke answer. Take heed that thou hast not doone worse than I for the Com­mon wealth, by such seed as thou shalt leaue behind thee. Heereon they elected one of his sonnes: who was of such an infamous and wicked disposition, as he hoped for nothing more, then to bring all thinges to confusion.

What shall I say of Mithridates, who by desire to succeede in the kingdome of Pontus (seeing the am­bushes he hadde secretly prepared against his father, sorted to none effect:) made open warre against him, & assailed him very dishonorably, for to depose him? And what may be said of Lotharius, sonne to K. Lewes, who hauing suspition, that he was not so well belo­ued [Page 73] as his brother Charles: found the meanes to im­prison his father? I might in this place produce the deede of C. Thuranius Antipater, of Gal [...]en, sonne to the Emperour Valerian: and of infinite other homi­cides, or rather paricides. But I will not trouble yee with multitude of examples, in a matter not to bee any way gaine-said.

Beleeue mee that will, but I holde as a matter doubtlesse, that barrennesse is a most singular reme­die, against the piersing thornes of housholde life: which by better meanes (then this onely) cannot be escaped or preuented. And I beleeue for certainety, that this would be a souereigne medicine, against the priuate mallice of children: except by good hap, the diuine plant called Hermetiae could be gotten, which whosoeuer vseth (if Democritus be not a lyar) not on­ly shall engender honest children and well disposed; but likewise very faire and gratious.

But I stand in doubt that this hearbe is lost: for which of the skilfullest, and moste dilligent herbal­lists of our time, that euer knewe it? Or where is the hande that euer planted or gathered it? If nothing can be found in Dioscorides, in Crescentius, or in Plate­airus, all good Apothecaries: I thinke assuredly, that this plant is altogither loste for our time: seeing by good proofe we now beholde, children so disobedi­ent, being lyars, Tauerne hunters, Gamesters, swea­rers, and (for conclusion) capitall enimies to all ver­tue. Then doubt not, but that good Democritus ima­gined this hearbe, or dreamed on some other thing: or else that he sawe and knew it, after he had put out his owne eies, to become therby the better Phylo­sopher.

[Page 74]I thus conclude then, that a barren woman is much better then a fruitfull: and let vs not bee carefull to haue such store of children, seeing they haue doone harme to so manye persons. As for my selfe, I was sometime of contrary opinion: but soone after I be­gan to repent my selfe, seeing that howe many chil­dren soeuer a man hath; if they bee strong, they are but so many seruants to princes: if they be of spirite and knowe ought, then make they slender account of their parents. Some giue themselues to lawe and estate of Iustice, others to lay holde on benefices, & others to followe new opinions, which makes them oftentimes fall from aloft, to a hotter place then wil­lingly they would: but if voluptuous pleasures once catch hold on them, God knowes what honor they doe then to their linage.

It was my chance sometime to be in a Countrey, thicke beset with barren mountaines, where ordina­rily was to be seene, an infinite throng of Potters or drudging penny-getters, whereof daily resorted to Venice a very great number: so that when any child happened to be borne in that countrey, the inhabi­tants woulde say (as a common Prouerbe) this is a young Asse for the Venetian.

If I should recite the latest comforts that children bring vs, I must borrowe the words vsed in Fraunce: that in their youth, they befo [...] their fathers and mo­thers, and when they are great, they serue for no­thing but to vexethem. Consider what pleasure they bring to their parents, when newes is heard of them, that they haue beene abroad all night keeping il rule, [Page 75] and then come home with their heades broken, their armes shiuered in peeces, their eares cut off: Or if worde bee brought their fathers, that they are in prison for some batterie, or carried to the Gallies for some theft, or that they haue gotten the soule discase, or (to make amends for their misbehauiour) they haue beaten the seruants of the house, broken per­force their fathers counting houses, and then fledde away with all the money. Then when they are re­turned againe, if the good man but shewe himselfe agreeued: answere is made, he may be ashamed in so dooing.

I haue at the tongues ende, an infinite number more of troubles to recount, which issue from this goodly increase: but for the present time I am con­tent to omit them, and now to vse silence, to shunne offence as well of you as my selfe, who with very ill will doe speake of such matters.

For the Exiled.
Declamation, 9. That it is better to be banished, than con­tinue in Libertie.

IF such as are mightie and ver­tuous, take no displeasure by being banished or sent into ex­ile: what need they feare, that haue not so much to loose, their harts not reaching so high, nor their mindes addicted to so great enterprises? A Philiso­pher, a man of councell and prudence, execised in affaires for the weale publique: a Captaine or ruler of a Cittye, may with some reason finde himselfe a­greeued, and sorry to bee sent away thorow report, mallice or otherwise, in that he exercised his autho­ritie to the benefite of euerie one, and notwithstan­ding, whatsoeuer paines he tooke, yet he had there­in delight and pleasure.

Neuerthelesse, we finde left by the most expert and auncientest, that they reputed exile to be an ho­nour and contentment of their mindes. Witnesse [Page 77] heereof is the honest answere of good Diogenes, to him that reprooued him (as with a matter ignominious) because the Sinopians had banished him their countrey. Quoth he, this rather ought to returne far greater shame to thee, that thou hast neuer byn forth of thy countrey: resembling Oysters heerein, that neuer dare come forth of their shelles, but are con­tinually beaten against stones and rocks. As hurtfull (in my opinion) is the want of courage heerein, and such as are ignorant of the great number of priuiled­ges, which the banished haue in their exile: whereof I will make some bre [...]fe recitall, to deliuer yee from occasion of maruel, why many of our elders (with good will) made choise of exile, and did so patient­ly endure the same.

First of all I may say, that the banished giue no cause to others, of falling into the sinne of enuie, and during the time of their flight or absence, very fewe are so bolde as to aske them mony for interest: for each one knowes wel enough, that poore exiles haue rather more neede of their helpe, then hinderance. Wherefore they may without blushing, or vsing any other conscience, borrowe the more easilie, impor­tuning & disquieting them they haue to deale with­all: for vnder this aduantage of beeing out of theyr countrey, and giuen to vnderstand, that their goods are confiscated: they may without any other oration require the aide and succour of euery one.

The banished finds himselfe not troubled with lodging strangers; nor is indebted or bound to ma­king of banquets; to attire himselfe sumptuouslie; beare Armes day and night, to goe honourably ac­companied [Page 78] companied for the credit of his house; to shew him­selfe braue and magnificent. But he may well vaunt, if so he thinke it good, that when he was in his coun­trey: he kept a table for all commers; did wonders; was rich and honourablie attired, and had the traine of a braue Caualier after him. Beside, it will bee no dishonour to the man exiled, if hee keepe not alwaies his promise, or make deliuerie of that hee standes bounde for, at the time by him prefixed. And so it happens, that many seeme satisfied, by acknowled­ging their good turnes, or promise of paiyng all, if e­uer they may returne into their long desired Coun­trey.

And doubt not, but many desire to pertake with this goodly priuiledge, for sparing of expences, and to deliuer themselues from very great troubles. For the banished are not bound, to keepe a house garni­shed with all prouisions: they are ridde of continual keeping companie with their wiues, who cease not to storme, strike and fight, first with one, then with an other, according to the quallity of most house kee­pers. They heare not so often their young children brawle, murmure or be peeuish, demaunding firste one thing, then another: neyther see they the priuie hidings of their men seruants and maides, which is such an euill, as the subtillest in the house sometimes knowes not how to defend.

This the good Anasangris of Sparta well knowing, and that exile was not a matter so offensiue, in regard of the priuiledges before named: sent an answere in writing to one of his friends, that he tooke it in no ill part, to be sent foorth of his Countrey. But rather [Page 79] (quoth he) I ought to greeue the abandoning of iu­stice, reason, and societie of all good thinges: then the countrey which thou so deerely esteemest. The parting wherewith, should be the lesse yrkesome to thee, because when thou leauest it: thou forsakest likewise infinite greefes & tribulations, which it brin­geth to such as are besotted therewith.

And in sooth, lesse greeuous and troublesome to vs are the calamities of our countrey, when wee are farre off, then when we are neere at hand. Nor is the report, of the death or hurt of a friend, so offensiue as the sight. Beeing farre from ciuill discordes, and sad­nesse of Magistrates: we take no care for beeing cal­led to councell; nor whether the officers of the Cit­tie doe their dutie, or keepe their accounts euen. We shall not heare the difference of our Countrey-men among themselues, stand croutching to borrow, nor listen to the quarrels and strifes betweene neighbors. But contrariwise, we shall see ourselues free from all molestations: and oftentimes meet in the fields with better fortunes, then wee coulde haue doone in the Citty.

I haue knowne some, that haue liued more com­modiouslie and pleasantly out of their houses, then if they had continued in them: for there they could not make a little cheere, without Saint Iulians Pater Noster, or being half-crucified. Abroad is daily found some one, who hath pittie on the straunger: and one would not imagine, what kindenesse and tendernes of hart, poore needie widdowes shewe to the banni­shed. Agamemnon returning from the expedition of Troy, & threatned by his father Telamon, to be thrust [Page 80] from his countrey into exile: I knowe not father (quoth he) any other countrey to be affected, then that whereinto a man is best welcome. If exile had beene reputed a thing euill and hatefull, by the wi­sest and most prudent persons of times past (as many for want of other matter, woulde gladly alleadge:) should we then finde so many vertuous people, that so voluntarily and cheerefully embraced it, as didde Metellus, Numidicus, and manye other of great re­nowme?

Calaster, commanded to exile by the Athenians, receiued his banishment for so great a blessing, as (at his departure) he would not haue any thing knowne thereof to his very deerest freendes: and for feare by them he should be againe reuoked to his countrey, he very strictlie forbad them by his letters, not to tra­uaile anye iote for his returne: accounting it much better, to ende his daies in poore tranquillitie, out of his countrey; then among riches full of tribulation, and businesse of the Citty, to languish in the place of his birth.

Demetrius Phalerean, sent in exile to Thebes, was most highlie displeased with his fortune, and durst not shew it to Crates the Phylosopher; because (ac­cording to the maner of Ciniques) he liued very poor­ly and obscurely. Within a while after, the Philoso­pher Crates came to visite him, whom when hee had saluted, hee reuealed to him so good a discourse, in praise and commendation of exile: as Demetrius (suddenly recouering his better sences) began to ac­count it for a great glorie, that he had byn banished. So soone afterward as he came home againe, hee bla­med [Page 81] very much the opinion, and forgetfull iudge­menthe had before, and the troublesome state of his affaires: which had so long held and detained him, from ioying in a life so excellent as banishment was. We shall find few men of valour or worth, that haue escaped this fortune: and if he wee would confesse the truth, this harme (if harme it may be called) hath more commonly and ordinarily fallen on menne of vertue, then on any other.

For proofe thereof, Hanniball, after hee had endu­red so many trauailes, in seruice of his ingratefull cō ­mon weale: was he not banished by the Carthageni­ans? was hee not depriued of his so deere belooued Citty, by the Athenians? Noble Theseus, who hadde done so many memorable thinges, worthy of eternal honour and praise, only by meanes of his vertue: was he not chased forth of his Countrey, which hee had so amplified and enlarged? The like was doone to Solon by the Athenians: whom (in recompence of ordering their lawes and manner of life) they made to ende his latest daies in the Isle of Cyprus. The ver­tuous and puissant Miltiades, by whose meanes were vanquished about thirtie thousand Persians: dyed in this blessed state of exile. Like happened as a reward to valliant Camillus: after he had so often giuen suc­cour to his noble countrey. Traian the iust, when hee was chosen Emperour, was in exile.

Banished was the learned Aristotle, and worthie Themistocles, constrained to gette him gone from his Countrey: the like befell to Alcibiades. VVhat re­gard had the Ephesians to the vertues of Hermodorus, when they banished him out of their Countrey? Ru­tillius [Page 82] could not resist like fortune; nor poore Cicero, on whom the Romaines bestowed this fauour of ex­ile, for a recompence, because he had preserued their publique estate, beside manye other innumerable good turnes. Now what is he, that in heart woulde not wish, to be in perpetuall exile, with so many good and honourable companions? Perhaps it may bee some coward, hart-lesse, strength-lesse, courage-lesse or councel-lesse creature.

I should be ouer-long, in shewing ye by diuers waies and examples, that exile is a thing neyther euil nor hurtfull: but at this present I am forced to for­beare, not so much for feare of offending your deli­cate eares: but because I remember, that the moste elloquent Maister Iohn Boccace, writing to a Florentine friend of his, hath already discoursed very amply on this argument. Wherfore I will heere conclude this matter, after I haue intreated your good willes, by that which heertofore hath beene said: to combine the sundry profits issuing from exile and banishmēt, with the small greese or harme, which a heart not ouer-weake and slothfull, may receiue thereby.

The rather, because by reason it is more to be de­sired, or (at the least) liberally endured and suppor­ted: before yrkesome licence and libertie, that by te­stimonie of the olde Comick Poet, makes vs ordinari­ly more wicked, and giuen to all kinde of vices: ne­uer eleuating or exercising so much, the spirites of men well borne and enstructed in all vertues, as doth the pretious state of banishment.

For infirmitie of the Bodie.
Declamation, 10. That it is better to be sicke, then alwaies healthfull.

THe aduise of the most auncient wise men, hath euermore been, that the feeble and weake com­plexion of our bodies; hath at al times serued as a soueraigne ad­uertisement, to the holie life of sobrietie and parsimonie. Wher­fore I dare maintaine, against him that will striue to iustifie the contrary: that perpetually this vertuous dame hath beene aduersarie, to mens vaine pleasures and idle lubricities, euen as the most soueraigne mi­stresse of all humilitie and modestie,

True it is, that (at the first sight) she seemeth scant pleasing, or rather very offensiue to some natures: but they consider not at all, the speciall good shee dooth to men, by continuall exhorting them to all constancie, and hope of immortalitie: bringing so [Page 84] many times to the memorie of the mind, the moste pittifull and miserable frailtie of our earthly bodies. This was it that mooued Stilpo the Philosopher, to make comparison of a sicke man, to one founde in a prison fore crazed, and shiuered (as it were) in ma­nie partes of his bodie, by meanes of the manifest ruines, from which he speedilie hopes to passe, & en­ter into perpetuall liberty.

In like manner I beleeue, that sicke and infirme people, haue alwaies this good hope of quick depar­ture from their mortall prison: when they perceiue themselues so often subiect to Catharres, weaknesse of stomach, Collickes, Goutes, and other naturall imbecilities. For euen as in a broken or torne scab­bard, many times is found a sworde or knife, of per­fect mettall and good temper: so (by experience) we shall commonly see, in a sicklie and crazed body, an excellent spirit and rich in all noblenesse, a courage high and magnificent: ready (notwithstanding the bodies weakenesse) not only to attempt, but to bring to passe many faire and honourable enterprises. See we not in the Gallies, that they giue the Oare to the strongest and moste mightie Galliots: when to the weakest and feeblest of members (which oftentimes are the wisest and most skilfull) is left the charge and guide of the Rudder? Hath not the strength sooner beene ouerthrowne, of Milo, Aiax and Hercules; then the abillities in Solon, Nestor, Cato or Socrates?

Euen so, what other thing is the body, wherof we make so great account: but the house and poore lod­ging, of the most rich and noble spirite? And albeit the body be found sometimes fraile and diseased, yet [Page 85] dooth it no hurt to the spirit: because it is her Inne but for a little while. Poore and miserable wretches are we, who neuer knowing aright what wee ought especially to wish or desire: daily finde fault and are discontented, with our sicklie weake bodies, which neuerthelesse are of longest life and continuance. As for proofe, the Italians, who for the better seething of a great turffe of hearbes, are wont to cleaue & break the couer of earth wherewith they are hidden in the pot, to giue them aire, better boiling and sauor: yet notwithstanding, the earthen pot thus brused, will serue and endure longer time, then a sound one no­thing at all broken: as if by meanes of the cleauing and rupture, it had attained a longer while of conti­nuance. The selfe same may be saide of our bodies, the strongest and most sturdie wherof, is found to be sooner infected, then they whose skin is more thinne and soft: by reason they cannot so easilie euaporate or exhale the superfluities out of them; whence en­sueth, that more suddenlie and oftener strong menne die, then such whose bodies are sicklie and tender.

Plinie (in his naturall historie) makes the number infinite, of greeuous and daungerous diseases, that customably take hold vpon vs: yet neuerthelesse, we are of so simple consideration, as for a little head-ake, or one fitte of an Ague, wee enter into vnspeakeable impatience. And we complaine on the feuer quar­taine, wherein we rather ought to reioice, or (at the least) not greeue or offende our selues therewith so strangely: considering, that if she bee a bad mother to vs for one day, she is good to vs for two after: and whosoeuer is cured thereof (say many Physitians) [Page 86] shall liue afterward more healthfull and better dispo­sed.

If for so little we contend with patience, we may then hazard losse of all together: if it should happen to vs, as it didde to Pherecides the Philosopher, that from our bodies should come foorth innumerable serpents: as much as befell to good Mecaenas, that our eies should not shut in three yeares togither: or if we should fall into an Ethick feuer, which lasteth perpetually, and neuer would leaue vs till wee came to our graue. Then would we crie out against God: howbeit, wee ought contrariwise rather to reioice, because the Apostle himselfe hath sayd: That neuer is the body well indeed, but when it is sicke indeed.

To proue this true, the partie afflicted with anie sicknesse, is neuer puffed vp with pride, neuer buffe­ted with fleshlie desire, neuer couerous, enuious, or ouercome with wrath, neuer strangled with glutto­nie, sursetting in slothfulnesse, or conquered by am­bition: and would to God we were such in health, as oftentimes we promise to be when wee are sicke. The good Saint Basill, because he felt himselfe weake and not sounde in health, practised right well the art of medicine: wherein he profited so perfectly, as he was esteemed one of the wisest, and most expert physitians in his time.

Plato the Philosopher, because he felt himselfe strong, and ouer-mightie in nature, to followe his studie as he ought: chose for his place of abiding, a watrie marshie ground, a trobled & discontēted ayre, where heauen shewed none other, but darke and pi­chie cloudes, that thereby he might become sicke: [Page 87] and so haue meanes to refraine, the tedious and pe­rilous assaults of the flesh, wherewith he felt himselfe sometimes pricked and moued: for his aduise was, that a good mind could not flourish, if first of all the flesh were not ouer-maistred. And certainlie I am thus perswaded, that the weakenesse of the slen­der thred, whereto my poore and miserable life is fastened, makes me the more highlie to reioice, and my heart the merrier: for the desire it hath of speedie departure, and the sooner to flie or mount alofte, where it first receiued her faire soule.

Now see in conclusion, of howe many felicities, the infirme and sicklie complexion of men are the cause? First of all, it is the meane of making vs liue long in this world: which is the thing, that men of greatest courage with for. For admit the case so fal­leth out (as there be people of diuers complexions, some more chollericke and impatient then other) that the sicke man desireth in himselfe, to depart from this world; thorow the greefe, vexation and tedious­nes he heere receiueth; yet then he happens to bee crossed with so many impeachments, as delaies and makes him tarry therein the longer. But if he would remember (setting all other troubles apart) to wishe he might liue longer, for the profit and commoditie of his friends: he may then chance to escape longer, then one in perfect health neuer minding such mat­ters. For the poore sicke man, considering that he is weake and diseased, will preserue himselfe very dilli­gentlie, from al manner of excesse: and liue more so­berly, then can the stiffest and strongest composed bodies.

[Page 88]These kind of men are such, to whom oftentimes it happeneth (thorow the ouer-much fiercenesse of their good disposition and strength) that boldlie or carelesly, they oppose themselues againste a thou­sand greefes, perils and daungers: vsing meates pro­hibited for the health of man, taking the corrupted ayre in the euening: or else (without any need) will wander into tempests, raine, snow, winde, stormes, and thus aduenture themselues from morning to night. And the worse is their successe, thorowe the confidence which they repose in their bodies, which they feeling to be strong and lustie: feare not (with­out any discretion) to fight heere with one, there to smite an other, spoile, outrage, and commit a thou­sand euils. Then, what recompence haue they for al these? They fall into the rightfull hande of Iustice: who without any regard of valour, strength, dexte­ritie, parents or riches, makes them (miserablie and shamefully) to finish their daies before their expec­ted time.

It is then great folly, to desire strength and health of body so earnestlie, seeing it is the cause of so ma­ny mishaps: were it not onely but in regarde of the warres, which we should neuer beholde so cruell or fierce, but by the confidence, that men suppose to be in their health and bodily strength: wherewith great and wise Lordes vse to iest at each other, and make as small account thereof, as of balles running along the pent-house of a Tennis court.

For Teares.
Declamation, 11. That it is better to weepe often, then to laugh at any time.

NOt without great occasion is it, that I must assuredlie, & by good right confesse, the mourner to bee in better estate then the laugher: seeing Salomon, in his most holy Prouerbes, hath lefte vs in writing, that it is better to sleepe and repose in the house of sorrowe, then in that of ioy and pleasure.

By laughter, many soules haue beene seuered from their bodies, to the infinite greefe of their good friends: but by sadnesse, not one only (which I euer heard of) at any time departed but well pleased▪ Laughter hath euermore beene perticularlie proper to fooles mouthes, or people without sence. And it is not read in any one place of the holye Scripture, that our blessed Sauiour euer laughed at any time: but that he wept and sorrowed, is to be found in sun­dry [Page 90] passages, of the good and faithfull Euangelistes. For this cause, hath he promised eternall felicity to such as mourne, and them that laugh, he hath mena­ced with death.

To weepe, is a signe of penitence and compunc­tion, whereto we are often inuited and exhorted, by the voices of the holy Prophets: but laughter hath beene the cause of mocking it selfe, as the euident signe of ouermuch boldnes. If we would make re­gard, of the commodities ensuyng by teares: howe many disdaines, and howe many rages, haue beene qualified, by one little teare of the eie? How manie poore louers haue they vnited and confirmed toge­ther, that before liued not, but in langour & distresse? How many storming hearts, fierce and cruell one a­gainst another, haue they brideled, softened, & made gentle? How many great and honest recompences, haue beene obtained and measured, by the waight of teares? I am of this opinion, that all the force and puissance of men assembled together, cannot so soon winne or compasse what it would haue: as one only teare can, yea, oftentimes it hath conqueringly obtai­ned grace, euen from obstinate and moste pittilesse persons.

For proofe heereof, Heraclitus was alwaies more esteemed for his weeping, then euer was Democritus for his laughing. See how many thinges, worthy of eternall memorie, Crassus by this vertue accompli­shed; purchasing the name of a scorner of vanities. If we should need to produce, the profit of teares & often weeping: Let vs consider, that while our bodies are but young and tender, they make them to grow [Page 91] and encrease. Wherefore many Nursses (in regard heereof) are not very hastie to quiet their infantes, when they lie criyng in the Cradle: but (by these meanes) suffer them to dilate and stretch forth their members, for so they come to the suddener growth. And if proofes should faile me against laughter, I would content my selfe with this only of good Hyp­pocrates, who hath left written: that the diseases which ensue by accident of laughter, without any manifest cause; are the most difficult to be healed.

Let vs then set laughing apart, seeing it bringeth such offence to man, and agreeth not with his hone­stie and grauitie: beside, we finde not at this daie, a­mong so many lamentable ruines, where any place or oportunity for laughing indeed, may be graunted or suffered. And let vs conclude, that laughter wrin­kles and makes olde the face, counterfeits the person, makes the heart ake, woundeth the lungs & inwards of the bellie: so that after long laughing, many greefs doe follow, whereof we neuer make doubt, till wee feele them. So that if laughter bee not refrained, it makes the pallat of the mouth to fall, the throte sore, the voice hoarse, and oft times shakes the body verie greeuously.

VVherfore very excellently said the wise man, that the end of laughter, was greefe and teares: which or­dinarilie endureth more space of time, & hath a lon­ger taile behinde it, than euer had mourning. But the end of continuall teares, after this mortall life: is ioy and perpetual delectation, which neuer hath ending, and such as are promised by him, who is onely truth it selfe.

For Dearth.
Declamation, 12. That Scarsitie is better, than aboundance.

ANy man of common sence and opinion, will assure yee, that for the ease and better estate of his person, as also continuance of his pleasures: aboundance or earth­ly goods ought well to be had in request. But for one voluptuous man ye shall finde of this opinion; I will furnish yee with an hundred of very singular spirit and perfect iudgement, that liberally will maintaine: the fertilli­tie and aboundance of goodes in this worlde, is the mother and nursse of all euils, enemie to all modesty and honestie, and cheefe aduersarie to sobrietie.

The good Lady of Henault, bemoned the great Dearth, which the turbulence of the warres had cau­sed, and among other thinges, she wept for the fertil­litie of the former yeares past; when as she called to minde, what store of corne and wines she had, and that before a weeke would be past, both shee and all hir house shoulde scant tell, where to gette foode or [Page 93] drinke once a day. But the sober and frugal Solon-nist saith well to the contrarie, that the lesse store of vic­tuals are in a contrey: the lesse is the insolence of the inhabitāts, who (in time of aboundance) disdain the seruice of their superiors: & then hath a man greater paine to get a seruant (how poore soeuer, or bad dis­posed he be) then a man of wisedome, well skilde in good letters.

Moreouer, what else thinke we, may be the plen­tie of one or two yeeares, when wee giue our selues to so great feasting: but euen an earnest of the dearth in them, that may or will followe soone after? The interpretatiō that iust Ioseph made of Pharaohs dream, may serue for witnesse heereof. What is it, that bet­ter giues knowledge of the price of any thing, bee it neuer so excellent; then the Dearth or scarsity ther­of? In the East Countreys, among the Sauages, no more esteeme is made of golde or pretious stones: then we in these partes, doo make of yron, lead or brasse. In Madera, Cyprus and other Islandes, where the Sugars doe grow, they giue them to their Swine to eate: as we in the Countreyes neerer hande, giue them great aboundance of fruites. And wherefore doe they thus? Euen because exceeding plenty, ma­keth the contempt of most excellent things. For ex­perience, when times fall out according to our owne wish: how many is there among vs, that remembers God therby, and giues him thanks with a good hart: but onely in a manner, by waye of countenance? But when times come that wee like not of: then is it that we turne vnto him, and cry him mercie, then confesse we only his diuine, incomparable bountie, [Page 94] greatnesse and excellence.

Infalliblie, the value of bread and wine, which are things needfull for nourishing the body, and to preserue the soule therein: is neuer knowne in the time of aboundance, when we make spoile thereof, cast it at our feete, and giue it to feede filthie beastes. Nor may I forget, howe in some Countreyes stored with Vineyardes, when one plentifull yeere comes among other: they will bee so insolent, as to make waste thereof at euery street corner. But when they haue little store of wine and graine: then they taste, sauour so well, and vse them in so small quantities, as nothing at all is lost. We thinke on God, praise him and giue him thankes: but then we doe it best, when we giue our selues to know his great vertues. Then our bodies are most healthfull and actiue, because our wine is well tempered, and we eate our wheate so pure: as they both togither may ingender the opi­lations of faith, and not of other matters.

And as for the viuacitie of the spirit, I say that e­uen as in the time of fast or diet, the spirits work best and greatest causes: so in the time of searsitie, they engender not such huge numbers of smokes, as hin­der them from dooing their diuine operations. For this especiallie, among other causes, at first were the fastes and Lent time instituted: in good season and time of flowing plentie after wine, good corne, a thousand disagreements, a thousand batteries, a thou­sand lawe-strifes and contentions. When a poore la­bouring man had his halfe-peny towards a pinte of wine; then could hee make mery with his fellowes, so long as to driue away yrkesome wearinesse. Then [Page 95] were none so simple, but sate at the table with the house-mayster, and fed as at a franke marriage feast: and when the belly was full, then to dauncing.

Let vs now make some little discourse, of Coun­tryes fertile and abounding in all goods, comparing them with such as are barren and vnfruitfull: and let vs see, if their inhabitants are better natured or dis­posed, then they that dwell in the desarts, or regions neuer tilled and not fertile. First of all, in Hircania (if it be true, which that most faithfull Greeke hath writ­ten in his historie,) one only stocke of a Vine, yeel­deth about a Tunne of wine: and euery foote of a figge tree, filleth wel neer forty frailes with that fruit. The wheat, although it naturallie fall to the ground from the eare on the stalke; yet without any industry or humane labour, it increaseth euery yeare in migh­tie aboundance. The Bees doe naturallie work their honny on the trees: from whence (euen as Manna from Heauen) it droppeth continually down on the earth, and there are none will take the paines to ga­ther it. All this notwithstanding, the people of that countrey are accounted the most cruell, fierce and wickedst Nation in all the world.

In the Indian Countryes, the Earth beareth twise a yeere, and they haue two seasons for gathering their fruites: neuerthelesse, if yee knew the people of the Countrey, ye shall finde them fantasticall, lyers and deceiuers to the vttermost. In Babilon, euery little corne of wheat, bringeth foorth two hundreth other for it: beside this, the millet and other bread graine (thorow the strange and wonderfull nature of the soile) stretcheth vppe in such height, as do the trees. [Page 96] Yet notwithstanding all these thinges, the inhabi­tants of the Countrey, are more abounding in vile life and villanies, then all other nations are beside. In Tacapa, a great Citty of Africa, is to be founde such store and aboundance, of whatsoeuer can bee desi­red, for the nourishment and life of man, & al things at so small a rate or price, as they scantlye make any reckoning thereof: in like manner is there to bee found, the verie plentifullest store that can be named, of theeues, adulterers, treasons, and infidelities.

Now let vs conferre heerewith the other part, the barren regions or lesse fertile in goods; and let vs see, if they be not altogither industrious, freends to ver­tue, and greatly hardened for paines and bodily la­bours. In the firste place, lette vs consider what the Countrey of Denmarke is, and what the Franconians and Danes haue beene, that thence issued. Let vs re­member withall, the Scythians, that liue at this day in trauaile, without any certaine habitation, now in one place, then in another. What and how many braue warriours, haue come from this people? Euen as in our times, we haue seene issued from the Isles of Ire­land, Swethen, and Countries vnfruitfull, colde, and partlie neighbors to Scotland. Yet in these countries, is found for nourriture of the inhabitantes, nothing more then milke and fish; but for softnesse and deli­catenesse, none else like them.

But let vs leaue strangers, and onely make discoue­rie of ourselues. How many men of wisedome and authoritie (thinke ye) in time of our memorie, hath issued from the vntilled and mountaine countreyes of Sauoye, Daulphine, Auuergne, Gascoigne, Limosine and [Page 97] Perigueulx? Imagine ye, that the Rabulanes, Onions and Beanes of these seuerall soiles, could in ought di­minish their goodnesse of spirit? Thinke ye for these, they owe ought to our minions of the Court & else­where: who are nourished, and brought vppe with all wanton and lickerish thinges? How many Chan­cellors, Presidents, Councellors, Knights, captaines, and such like, haue ye seene, and daily doe beholde, in honour of these quarters, more then any other? yet their countries are of such nature, as their Cole­worts, Mullets, Turneps and Chesenuts, doth there giue them better nourishment, then will the moste pretious wheat or graine in the worlde. This infer­reth, and prooueth well vnto yee, that without this scant and frugall arsimonie, which to them is natu­rall; neuer would they haue beene such, as now they are.

I agree very well with yee, that after they haue once dwelt in a countrey more abounding, they be­come finer and foolisher, like the sauage Spaniardes, who leauing their firste vntilled region, where they wore hempenshooes, shirtes, clothes, and such like, came afterwarde to their pumpes of veluet. But all this, (proceeding from their originall nurssing) hath giuen them such hart & industrie, as makes them no­thing inferiour to other strange nations.

I say for conclusion, that the great fertillitie, of a­bounding in goodes of the earth, serues to no other purpose; but to stirre and moue vs, to attemptes of succession, Farmes, dismes, rents and reuenues: wher­in we trust so much the most part of our time, as we become carelesse, and void of all desires of vertuous [Page 98] knowledge. True it is, that the ouer-great plentie of graine, euen in such as are couetous, serues them to fatten fowles, Pigeons, Partridges and other birdes, as well of the Garden as flight, the flesh wherof (soon after) serues but to abridge and shorten their liues. But withall, they shoulde remember, that this huge store in lofts and garners, draweth thither a million of Rats, Mice, weeuels, Fitchets and other vermin: nor is there so good a house, but heereby oftentimes it may be spoilde and consumed, beside the labour taken to separate the blasted corne, spirted and bar­ren Oates from the other. And when all this corne is gotten together, it troubles the maister merualously to locke it vp, by reason of the aboundance: so that the torment of safe keeping, and well looking to it, makes him sometime minded, to forgoe the land for the corne, because of the displeasures, greefes and vexations he receyueth therby, in recompence of his labours,

In briefe, dearth of victuals, makes poore people carefull, and ready to their worke, contented (be­side) with how little soeuer they get, to withstande the necessitie and daunger of time to come. It enter­taineth and augmenteth good mindes, in their dutie and endeuour: to the great profit of the weale pub­lique, which otherwise would but slenderly reioice, if by occasion of plentie, they should runne at their owne libertie. It maketh known the bountie, strēgth and vertue of him, who (of nothing) raiseth mighty matters. It rebateth the pride of the highest moun­ted. It maketh that seeme better, which one labou­reth for, or getteth by his owne paines: then if hee [Page 99] receiued it from the hand, of neuer so liberall afflu­ence, or if it were giuen and bestowen vppon him, euen for nothing. Lastlie, in times of scarsitie, all good things augment and increase: but in the times of plentie and superfluitie, they fade, diminish and vtterly die.