SOlon Solonio cōman­ded in his lawes to the Athenians, that on the day they had ouercome any bat­tayle, they should offer vnto the Gods great Sacrifices, and giue vnto men large rewards: to the end that against other warres, they might finde the Gods fauourable, and men of willing mindes. Plutarch sayth, that when the Greekes remayned Conquerours in that renowmed battaile of Marathon, they sent vnto the temple of Diana in Ephesus, What they gaue in olde tune in reward for good newes. to offer so much Sil­uer, that it was to be doubted, whether there remayned so much more in all Greece. When Camilius ouercame the E­trurians and Volsians, mortall enemies to the Romaines, all the women of Rome did not forget to sende to the Oracle of Apol­lo, which stoode in Asia, as much Golde and Siluer as they had in possession, without reseruing any one iewell. When the Consull Silla was Conquerour of the valiant King Mithrida­tes, he conceyued so great pleasure in his hart, that not con­tented to offer to the God Mars all the spoyle gotten of the e­nemies, he offered also a viall of his owne bloud. The fa­mous and glorious Iephthah Duke of the Hebrewes made a solempne vowe, that if God gaue him victorious returne frō the warres he then had in hand, he would offer in the temple [Page 2] both the bloud and life of his onely daughter: the which vow as he promised, so he accomplished. Of these examples it may be gathered, what and how many thanks Princes ought too giue vnto God, for the triumphes, victories, and bounties hée giueth them: for though it be in the hands of kings to begin warre, it is in the hands of God only to giue victory. There is nothing that moueth god to be lesse carefull for vs, than the ingratitude of a good turne receiued. For the good things wée receiue of men,God will not but that we gratifie the good thing we receyue. they will wée recompence or deserue them: but God will that wée gratifie and not forget them. Princes moste chiefly haue cause to beware they forgette not bene­fites receiued of GOD, bycause the ingratitude of a bene­fite receiued maketh them incapable and vnworthy of di­uine fauour in time to come. The forgetfull, ingrate or vn­kind Prince, neither God doth delight too helpe, or men so serue. All this haue I sayde vnto your imperial Maiestie, by occasion of this great victory ye haue obtained at Pauia, where your armye hath taken Fraunces the Frenche King, who in his owne galleys was brought prisoner into Spayne. A case so graue,In the wars more than in other things fortune vseth doublenesse. a newes so new, a victorie so seldom heard of, a fortune so accomplished is both terrible to the world, and brings your Maiesty in debt, which debt is, to giue God thankes for the victory, and to recompence the conquerours of the battayle. By this it may be apparant to your Maiesty, that there is nothing wherin fortune is lesse constant, than in martiall af­fayres, since the French king being present (and also taken in his owne person) with all the potentates of Italy, did lose the battayle, where dyed all the nobles of Fraunce. Much shold your Maiesty erre, once to thinke the victory to be gotten by your pollicy, or obtayned by your power, or els to haue hap­pened by chaunce. For a déede so famous, an act so glorious, and a case so heroicall, as this is, doth not fall out vnder for­tune, but is only giuen by diuine prouidence. Quid retribuam Domino pro omnibus quae retribuit mihi? If Dauid being a King, a Prophet, a Sainct, and with God so priuate, vnderstoode not what to present vnto God, for the good things hée had recei­ued: [Page 3] what shall we doe that are miserable, that vnderstand not what to say, nor haue not what to giue? of our selues wée are so weake, and our abilitie so small, our valure so little, and haue so few things, that if God do not giue wherwith to giue, of our selues we haue not what to giue. And what we haue to craue, or els that he should giue: is his grace to serue him, and not licence to offend him.There is no sacrifice more accepted, than to pardon an enimie. In remuneration of so great vic­tory, I would not counsell your Maiesty too offer iewels as the women of Rome, eyther Siluer or Gold as the Greekes, eyther your owne blud as Silla, neyther your childrē as Ieph­tha: but that ye offer the inobedience and rebellion against your Maiesty, by the commons of Castile. For before GOD there is no Sacrifice more accepted, than the pardoning of e­nemies. The iewels that we might offer vnto God, procéede from our Cofers: the Gold from our Chests: the bloud from our Veynes: but the pardoning of iniuries, from our hartes and entrayles, where enuie lyeth grinding, and perswading reason to dissemble, and the hart to be reuenged. Much more sure is it for Princes, to be beloued for their clemency, than to be feared for their chastisements. For as Plato sayeth,The man that is feared, hath neede to feare. the man that is feared of many, hath cause also too feare many. Those that offended your Maiestie in those alterations paste, some of them bée deade, some bée banished, some hidden, and some be fledde. Most excellent Prince, it is great reason, that in reward of so great victory, they maye boast themselues of your pietie, and not complaine of your rigor. The wiues of these vnfortunate men bée poore, their daughters vpon the poynt to be lost, their Sonnes are Orphans, their kinsfolkes blushe and are ashamed: In so muche as the pitie that yée shall vse towardes a fewe, redoundeth to the remedie of manie. There is no estate in this worlde, whiche in case of iniury, is not more sure in pardoning than in reuenging: for that many times it dothe happen, that a man séeking occasion too bée reuenged, doth vtterly destroy him selfe.It is more sure to forget an iniurie, than to reuenge it. The enemies of Iulius Caesar, did more enuie the pardoning of the Pompeyans, than the killing of Pompeyus himselfe. [Page 4] For excellencie, it was written of him, that he neuer forgot seruice, or euer did remember iniurie. Two Emperours haue bene in Rome, vnlike in name, and much more in ma­ners: the one was named Nero the Cruell, the other Antony the Méeke. The which ouernames the Romaines gaue them, the one of Méeke, bycause he could not but pardon, the other of Cruell, bicause he neuer ceased to kill. A Prince although he be prodigall in play, scarce in giuing, vncertaine of his woorde, negligent in gouernement, absolute in cōmaunding, dissolute in liuing, disordinate in eating, and not sober in drinking, is termed but vicious: but if he be cruel and giuen to reuenge, he is named a tyrant. As it is sayde by Plutarch: He is not a tyrant for the goods he taketh, but for the cruel­ties he vseth. Foure Emperours haue bene of this name. The first was called Charles the great: the second, Charles the Bohemian: the third, Charles the Balde: the fourth, Charles the grosse, the fifth, which is your maiestie, we wishe to be called Charles the Méke, in following the Emperoure Antony the Méeke,Fewe & good wordes are to be vsed with Princes. which was y^e Prince of all the Romaine Empire best beloued. And bicause Calistines would that Princes should be persuaded by few things, & those very good, and woordes well spoken: I cōclude and say, that Princes with their pietie and clemencie, be of God pardoned, and of their subiects beloued.

THis present day being the day of Kings, in the house of Kings, and in the presence of Kings, it is not vnfitte that wée speake of Kings: though Princes had rather be obeyed than counselled. And seing we preache this day before him that is the Emperour of the [Page 5] Romains, & King of the Spaniards, it shal be a thing very séem­ly & also very necessary, to relate here what this woorde King doth mean, and from whence this name Emperor doth come: to the end we may al vnderstand how they ought to gouerne vs, and we to obey them. As concerning this name of King, it is to be vnderstood, that according to the varietie of nations, so did they diuersly name their Princes, that is to saye:How in the old tyme they called their Kings. A­mongest the Aegyptians they were called Pharaones: the By­thinians Ptolomaei: the Persians, Arsicides: the Latines, Murrani: the Albans, Syluij: Sicilians, Tyrants: the Argiues, Kings. The fyrste king of this world the Argiues doe saye was Foroneus: and the Greekes do report, to bée Codor Laomor: Whiche of these opinions is most true, hée only knoweth that is moste high and only true. Although we know not who was the first King, neither who shal be the laste king of the worlde, at the least we know one thing, & that is, that al the Kings past are dead, and al those that now liue shal die: bicause death doth as wel cal the King in his throne, as the laborer at his plow. Also it is to bée vnderstood, that in olde time,In the olde time to bee a king was no dignitie, but an office. to be a King was no dignitie, but onely an office, as Maior or Ruler of a common wealth: After this maner, that euery yeare they did prouide for the office of King to rule, as nowe they do prouide a Vice­roy to gouerne. Plutarke in his booke of Common wealth dothe reporte, that in the beginning of the worlde all Gouernours were called tyrantes,He that kno­weth not to gouern, deser­ueth not to reigne. and after the people did perceiue what difference was betwéene the one and the other, they did or­deyn amongst thēselues, to name the euill gouernors tyrāts, and the good, they intituled Kings. By this it may be gathe­red (most excellent Prince) that this name King, is consecra­ted vnto persons of good deserning, and that be profitable vnto the common wealth: for otherwise he doth not deserue to bée called King, that doth not knowe to gouern. When God did establish an houshold, & for himself did constitute a Common Wealth in the land of the Aegyptians, he would not giue thē kings to gouerne, but Dukes to defend them, that is to say, Moses, Gedeon, Iephtha, and Sampson. This God did to deliuer [Page 6] them from paying of tributes, and that they might be vsed as brethren, & not as vassals. This maner of gouernment amōg the Hebrues did cōtinue vnto the time of Helie the high priest, vnder whose gouernance the Israelites required a King to go­uerne their cōmon welth, and to lead them in their warres. Then God gaue them Saul to be their King, much against his will: so that the last Duke of Israell was Helie, and the firste king was Saule. In the beginning when Rome was founded, and the Romanes began to be Lords of the worlde, forthwith they did create kings to rule them, and Captaines to defende them. They found themselues so gréeued with that maner of gouernment, that they suffred but seuen kings, not withstan­ding they thought them seuen hundred. And bicause the sooth­sayers had saide, y^t this name King was consecrate vnto the Gods,Amongst the Romaines a Priest was called a king. the Romanes cōmaunded that he should be called King, that was no king: And this was the high priest of the god Iu­piter, in such maner that he held only the name of king, & the office of priest. Hauing spoken of the name of king, nowe let vs speake of the name of Emperour, that is to say, how it was inuented, where it was inuented, and to what ende it was in­uented, since it is the name in all this world most reuerēced, & also most desired. And although amongst the Syrians, the As­syrians, Medes, Persians, Grekes, Troyans, Parthians, Palestines, & Aegyptians, their haue bin princes glorious in armes, & in great estimation in their cōmon wealths, yet they neuer obteyned the name of Emperor,In old times they did not boast them­selues with vaine titles. either intituled themselues therwith. In those ancient tymes & in those goldē worlds, the good men and the noble personages did not lay vp their honor in vaine titles, but in noble, valiāt and glorious acts. This name Em­perour the Romanes first brought into this world, whiche they inuented not for their Princes, but for their Captains gene­rall. In suche wise, that in Rome he was not intituled Em­peroure, that was Lorde of the Common wealth, but that was chosen generall of the warre. The Romanes euery yere in the Moneth of Ianuarye, did choose all their officers of the Senate, and in their such election, they did firste ordeyne the high Priest, which they named King: then the Dictator, [Page 7] then the Consull, then the Tribune of the people, then the Emperor, then the Censor, and then the Edill. By this elec­tion it may be gathered,The office of the Edil was the maister of ceremonies in triumphs and theatres. that the same which is nowe an Im­periall dignitie was in those dayes but an office giuen in the moneth of Ianuary, and ended in the moneth of December, Quintus Cincinatus, Fabius Camillus, Marcus Marcellus, Quintus Fabius, Annius Fabricius, Dorcas, Metellus, Gracchus, Sem­pronius, Scipio the African, and the greate Iulius Caesar: when they did gouerne the Romane hostes, were called Emperors, but afterwards when in the Senate the office was taken a­way, they were named by their proper names. But after the great battayle of Pharsalie, in whiche Pompey was ouercome and the field remayning to Caesar, it hapned that the cōmon wealth came into the hands of Caesar. The Romanes made re­quest he should not take vnto himselfe the Title of king, bi­cause it was odious vnto them, but that he would vse some o­ther at his liking, vnder which they woulde obey and serue him. Being at that time Captain generall of the Romanes, and therefore then called Emperour, he chose his name,How the na­me of Empe­rour was first found out. and not the name of Kyng, to doe the Romaines pleasure, in suche wyse, that this greate Prince was the firste of the worlde, that left this name annexed vnto the Emperour. Iu­lius Caesar beeing deade, Octauius his cousin did succéede him in the Empire, then Tyberius, then Caligula, then Claudius, then Nero, and Vitellius, and so of al the other Princes to this day: The whiche in memorie of the first Emperour be inti­tuled Augustus, Caesars, and Emperours.

Princes ou­ght so to re­create them­selues, that thereof ryse none offence. SO greate be the affaires of Princes, and so muche laden wyth studious cares, that hard­lye remayneth tyme to sléepe, or eate, muche lesse to recreate or ioye themselues with glad­some pastyme. Oure forces are so small, our iudgemente so weake, oure appetite so varia­ble, and oure desyres so disordinate, that sometyme it is necessarie, and also profitable, to giue place to the humani­tie to bée recreated: vppon condition, that the truth bée not putte to flyghte or weakened. The sensualitie makes vs warre with his vices. Reason fyghteth with oure wicked­nesse. Our bodie contendeth with his appetites. The hart striueth with his desires. For whiche cause it is necessa­rie to giue place to the one, that they bring vs not to oure ende, and to dissemble with the other, that they leade vs not to despaire.Princes ou­ght to limite their recrea­tions. This I saye to your imperiall Maiestie, for the magnificent meanes whiche your excellencie vsed to passe the tyme, whē it pleased you to cōmand that I shuld be called to your chāber & presēce. And for a trouth, y^e recreatiō of prin­ces ought so to be measured & limited, that thei may recreate without offēce to y^e world. Arsacidas king of the Bactriās, his pastime was to knit fishing nets: of king Artaxerxes, to spin: [Page 13] And of Arthabanus king of Hircans, to arme for Rats. And of Viantus King of Lidians, to fishe Frogges. And of the Empe­rour Domitianus, to chase Flies. Princes (hauing their times so limitted, & also of all men so beholden and considered,) that imploy themselues in such pastimes and vanities, we cannot well saye that therin they passe their times, but loose their times. The case is this, that your Maiestie presently after you felt your selfe deliuered of your quartaine, commaunded to be set before you a certaine little table, all full of stamped metals, aswell of gold, as siluer, of brasse, as also of Iron. A thing surely worth the beholding, and much to be praysed. I did not a little delight, in seing your Maiestie take pleasure in beholding the faces of those metalles, in reading the letters they held, and in examining the deuises they did containe. All which thinges might not easely be read, and much lesse vnder­stood. There were amongst those stamped metalles, certaine that were Gréeke, some Latin, some Caldée, some Arabick, some Gothick, and other some high Dutch: your Maiestie cō ­maunded mée to vew them, reade them, and the most notable to expound: assuredly the commaundement was directed very iustly, and in me more than another moste aptly imployed. For being (as I am) your imperiall Chronicler, it is my part to render accompt of the thinges you shall doubt, and to de­clare y^e meaning of that which you reade. I haue vewed thē, read them, and studied them: and although some of them be very hard to be read, and very difficult to bée vnderstoode, I will trauayle with such playnesse to declare them, and euery parcell so diligently to examin and distinguish, that not only your Maiestie may vnderstand to reade the stampe, but also comprehend the blason and originall therof.

It is to be vnderstoode, that the Romanes more than all other nations were couetous of riches, and ambitious of ho­noures: whereby it came to passe, that to haue to spend, and to magnifie their names, they hild warres sixe hundreth and fortie yeares, with all nations and kingdomes. In two things the Romanes did trauell to leaue and perpetuate their me­morie, [Page 14] that is to wit, in buildings they made, and in their Coines they did graue or stampe: neither did they allowe the grauing or stamping of any money, but vnto him that had o­uercome some famous battaile, or done some notable thing in the cōmon wealth. The buildings they most vsed to make, were wals for Cities, cawsies in high waies, Bridges ouer Riuers, fountaines artificially made, statues or greate pic­tures ouer gates, Bathes for the people, arches for their triumphes, and Temples for their Goddes. Much time pas­sed in the Empire of Rome, wherein the Romanes had no money but of brasse or of yrō.In the aunci­ent times yron was vsed in coyne. Whereof it procéedeth that the true and most auncient metalls be not of golde but of Iron. For the first coyne that was made to be melted in Rome of gold, was in the time of Scipio the Africane. The auncient Romanes vsed to stampe or graue on the one side of their mo­ney, their faces drawne most naturall, and on the other, the kingdomes they had ouercome, the offices they had held, and the lawes they had made.

And for that it shall not séeme that I speake at large or of fauour, it is reason I giue account of all I haue said. The let­ters of one of these stamped mettals doth say, Pboro. dact. Leg. Your Maiestie hath to vnderstand, that this stampe is the most auncient that euer I saw or redde, which appeareth ve­ry well by the mettall it is made of, & by the letter it is writ­ten in: for declaration whereof, it is to be vnderstoode, there haue bin seuen whiche inuented to giue lawes to the world, that is to wit, Moses, that gaue lawes to the Hebrewes, Solon to the Athenians, Licurgus to the Lacedemonians, Asclepius to the Rhodians, Numa Pompilius to the Romanes, and Phoro­neus to the Aegiptians. This Phoroneus was King of Aegipt be­fore that Ioseph the sonne of Iacob was borne. And as Diodo­rus Siculus doth say, he was a King very iuste, vertuous, ho­nest, and wise. This was he that first gaue lawes in Aegypt, and also (as it is thought) in all the worlde, whereof it dothe procéede, that all Coūsellours and Lawyers of Rome did call the lawes that were iuste, and moste iust, Forum, in memory [Page 15] of king Phoroneus. And so the letters of this mettall would thus much say: This is King Phoroneus, whiche gaue lawes to the Aegyptians. The letters of the other stampe, Genuci. D. vi. Leg. For the vnderstanding of this stampe, it is to be conside­red, that the Romanes conceiued so great shame and disdaine of the filthinesse of king Tarquine cōmitted with chast Lucrece, that onely they would not, that in Rome there should be any more kings, but also that the name of king, and the lawes of kings, should for euermore bée banished, and in the common wealth forgotten.

So the Romanes not meaning to obey the lawes they had receiued of their good King Numa Pompilius, sent a moste so­lemne imbassage to Grecia, to bring them the lawes that the Philosopher Solon had giuen to the Athenians. Which being brought to Rome accepted, and obserued, were afterwards in­tituled the lawes of the twelue tables. The Embassadours that were sent to bring these lawes from Greece, were ten moste sapient Romanes, whose names are Apius, Genutius, Sextus, Veturius, Iulius, Mannilius, Sulpicius, Curius, Romulus, Postumus: and bicause Genutius was one of those ten notable men, & for that great act so famous, he stāped those words on the one side of his money. The whiche would say: this is the Consull Genutius, one of the ten men of Rome, that was sent for the lawes of Greece. The words of the other stamp following are Con, Quir, Ius, Mos, Le, Obs. To explane these words which are very darke, it is to be vnderstood, that al the lawes of this world, are reduced frō thrée maner of lawes, which is to wit,It is to be no­ted that all lawes are re­duced from three lawes. Ius naturale, lex condita, & mos antiquus. That whiche in the old time was called the Law of Nature, is, That thou wish not for another, which thou wilt not for thy self: & also to shunne euil, & approch to do wel, which is not to be learned by lesson, but by reason. Lex condita are the lawes that kings haue made in their Kingdomes, and Emperours in their Empires: Some of the which consiste in Reason, and other some in o­pinion. Mos antiquus is, when a Custome by little and little is brought in amongst the people: the force whereof depen­deth [Page 16] vpon the well or euill obseruing thereof. Of the aboue sayd it is to be gathered, wée call Ius naturale the lawe whiche reason doth direct: we name Lex Condita, whiche is ordayned and written: and we terme Mos antiquus, the custome of long time vsed, and presently obserued: this presupposed the let­ters of this stampe do signifie,Seuen maner of auncient lawes. This is the Consull Quirinus, the which in the time of his Consulship, did obserue, and caused to be obserued, that which right requireth, lawe commaundeth, and custome hath brought in.

The wordes of the other stampe are these: Popil. Con. Iu. Mill. fecc. for the vnderstanding of these wordes is to be vn­derstood, that the auncient Lawyers did ordaine seuen man­ner of Lawes, which is to wit, Ius gentium, Ius ciuile, Ius consu­laris, Ius publicum, Ius quiritum, Ius militare, & Ius magistratum.

In the old time, they did call Ius Gentium, to occupie that which had no owner, to defende the Countrey, to die for the libertie, to endeuer to possesse more than others, and to be of more abilitie than the rest. This was named ius Gentium, by­cause in all Kingdomes and Nations, Greekes, Latines, and Barbarians, this manner of liuing was vsed and obserued.

Ius Ciuile was the order and manner in old dayes, to forme their plees in lawe, that is to wit, to cite, aunswere, accuse, proue, denie, alledge, relate, to giue sentence, and to execute: to the end eche one might obtaine by iustice, that which was taken by force.

Ius Consulare, was, such orders, as the Consuls of Rome did vse amongst themselues, for themselues: which is to say, of what number they should bée, what garments they should weare,Lawes onely for Romane Senators. what company they should kéepe, where they should congregate, and how many houres they should assemble, of what things they should conferre, howe they should liue, and to how much goods they should attaine.

This Ius Consulare did serue but for the Romane Consuls that were resident in Rome, for notwithstanding there were Consuls in Capua, they would not consent they should liue as those of the Senate of Rome.

[Page 17] Ius Quiritum, was the lawes and priuiledges that the Ro­mane Gentlemen did vse or enioy, that did liue within the cō ­passe of Rome, or had the priuiledge of a Romane Gentleman: which is to say, that the Gentlemē and knights of Rome had foure names: that is to vnderstand, Patricios, Veteranos, Milites, & Quirites. The which foure names, according to the varietie of the time was giuen them.

The priuiledge or law Quiritum, that the Knights of Rome enioyed, was, that they might sit in the tēples, thei might not be arested for debt, or pay for lodging, or prouēder where they went, to be maintained by the cōmon treasure if they became poore, to make a testament without witnesse, not to be accused but in Rome, to pay no impost in time of tribut, and also that they might be buried in an highe Tombe. All these prehemi­nences no gentleman did enioy, but only such as were Citi­zens of Rome.

Ius Publicum, was the ordinances and constitutious, that euery people in particular did vse amongst themselues and for themselues: that is to saye, how they should repaire their walles, conserue their waters, measure their streates, build their houses, prouide necessary thinges, to haue store houses, to gather money, to make their fifes, to watche their cities. They called these ordinances Ius Publicum, because they were made by all, and obserued by all.

Ius Militare, was the lawes that the anciēt Romains made,The lawes for warre, they v­sed in Rome. for the times that kingdoms did breake peace, and entred in­to warres one with the other, bicause they estemed muche to be wise in gouernment, and to fight as men determined in or­der. The lawes of Ius militare were how to proclaime warres, to confirme peace, to take truce, to leuie their souldiours, too pay their Campe, to giue order for their watches, too make their trenches, to giue battaile, to retire their host, to redéeme prisoners, and how the Conquerours should triumphe.

They called these lawes Ius militare, which is to say, the or­der of Knightes, because they serued no further, but too giue order vnto those that did follow the warres, and with armes [Page 18] did defend the common wealth.

Comming now to the exposition of the stampe, it is too be vnderstood, y^t in the daies of the first Romane Dictator Quintus Cincinatus, ther was also in Rome a certain Romain Consull named Popilius Vastus, a man very well learned, and no lesse expert in armes. This Consul Popilius made lawes to be ob­serued in warres, and gaue it in stampe in his money: that which is conteyned in the stampe before rehersed in the let­ters,The first that made lawes for warres. hath this signification: This is the Consull Popilius, which made lawes for the captaines, that should goe to the warres for de­fence of the common wealth.

Also it may please your Maiestie to vnderstand, that if any Prince or Romane Consull, did chaunce to make any law ei­ther necessary or very profitable for the people, they did vse for custome, to entitle that lawe by the name of him that did inuent and ordaine the same: for that in the worldes to come it might bée knowen who was the author therof, and also when it was made. After this maner, the lawe that they made to eate with dores open, was called Caesaria. The lawe that Pompey made too giue tutors to Orphans, was named Pompeia. The lawe that Cornelius made for parting of fields, was intituled Cornelia. The law that Augustus made to take no tribute but for the profit of the cōmon wealth, was writ­tē Augusta. The law that the Cōsul Falcidias made, that none might buy the dowry of any other mans wife, was nomina­ted Falcidia. The law that the Dictator Aquilius made, that no Romāe should be put to death within Rome, was cleped Aqui­lia. The lawe that the Censor Sempronius made, that none might disinherit his son, but if he were a traytor to the Em­pire of Rome, was termed Sempronia.

The wordes do followe of the other stampe Rusti, prie, tris, ple. For the vnderstanding of these wordes, it is to be noted, that y^e order whiche the Romanes did vse in creating dignities and offices, was as followeth: First they had Kyngs, after­ward Decemuiri, then Triumuiri, after that Consulles, and thē Censores, then Dictators, afterwardes Tribunes, and lastely [Page 19] Emperoures. Of their Kinges there were but seuen, their De­cemuiri endured ten yeares, their Triumuri continued fortie yeres, their Consulls foure hundreth thirtie and foure yeres, their Censor one yere, their Dictator halfe a yere: their Tri­bune thrée yeres. That which wée call the procurer of the people, the auncient Romanes did name the Tribune of the people, whose office was, euery day to enter into the Senate, and to procure the causes of the people: and in such businesse as did not like him, he had authoritie to stand for the poore, and to resist the Senators. And for that the office of Tribune was alwaies against the Senate, and thereby passed his life in perill, it was a law made and capitulate by the Lawyers and Senators, that what soeuer man or woman did violent­ly prease to his person or vnto his garment to offend him, publikely they cut off his head.

And be it knowne to your Maiestie,The procurer of the people was most pri­uiledged in Rome. that many Romane Princes did procure to be chosen Tribune of the people, not for the interest they receiued by that dignitie, but for the se­curitie they had with the same: bycause not only they might not kill them, either in their clothes so much as touch them. The first Tribune that was in Rome was a certaine Romane named Rusticius, a man of a very sincere life, and merueilous zealous of his common wealth. This Rusticuis was, and this dignity created, betwixt the first and the second Punick bat­tails, in the time that Silla and Marius did leade great bands in Rome, and did spoile the common wealth. Thus much the letters of the stampe would say, This is the good Consull Ru­sticius the which was the first Tribune that was in the Empire of Rome. Your Maiestie amongst these hath many other stāpes, the whiche being easie and facile to reade, and cleare to vn­derstand, I shall not néede to spende the time too expound them.

MOst high and serene Lady, this Sunday past, after I had preached before your highnesse the Sermon of the destruction of Ierusalem, ye commaūded I should recite, and also giue in writing, who was that great Philosopher Licurgus, whose life I praysed, & whose lawes I alledged. In repayment of my trauell, and to binde me the more vnto your seruice, you commaunded I shoulde dine at your table, and also gaue me a rich clocke for my studie. For so small a matter as your highnesse doth commaund, neither it needed ye should feast me, either giue me so great rewards: for that I attaine more honour and bountie in that ye com­maund, than your highnesse doth receiue seruice in the thing I shall accomplish.We receiue li­beralitie from the Prince, when he com­maundeth to serue. To say the truth, I had thought rather yée had slept in the sermon (the curtains drawne) but since ye cō ­maund, I shall recite that whiche I sayd of the Philosopher Licurgus, it is a signe ye heard the whole Sermon, and also noted the same. And since it pleaseth your highnesse, that the Ladies and dames that serue you, and the gallants & Cour­tiers that attend vpon you be present at this communicatiō, that ye commaund them that they be not gibing, either ma­king of signes: for they haue sworne to trouble me, or to put me from my matter. But cōming to the purpose, it is to wit, y^t in the first reignes of this world, whē Sardanapalus reigned in Assiria, Osias in Iury, Tesplus in Macedonia, Phocas amongst the Greekes, Alchimus amongst the Latins, Arthabanes amōgst the Aegyptians, Licurgus was borne amōgst the Lacedemoniās.

This good Licurgus was iointly Philosopher and King: & King and Philosopher: bicause in those Golden times, either Philosophers did gouerne, eyther else Gouernours did vse Philosophie.Note the great vertues of the Philosopher Licurgus. Plutarche doth say of this Licurgus, that he was low of stature, pale of colour, a friend of silence, an enemie of vaine talke: a man of small health, & of great vertue. He was [Page 21] neuer noted of dishonestie, he neuer troubled the common welth, he did neuer reuēge iniury, he did neuer thing against iustice, either against any man did vse malicious wordes. He was in féeding tēperate, in drinking sober, in giuing liberall, in receiuing of consideration, in sleeping short, in his speache reposed, in businesse affable, in hearing patient, prompt in ex­pedition, gentle in chastisement, and benigne in pardoning. Being a child was brought vp in Thebes, being a yong mā he did studie in Athens, and in the time of more yéeres he passed into the great India, & afterwards being old was king of y^e La­cedemonians, which also were called Spartans, which of nation were Greekes, and of condicion very barbarous. For excel­lencie, it is recounted of him, that they neuer saw him idle, he neuer dranke wine, neuer trauailed on horsebacke, neuer chid with any man, neuer did hurt to his enemies, neither at any time was ingrate to his friends. He himself wente to the temples, he himself did offer the Sacrifices, he himself did reade in scholes, he himselfe did heare complaints, he himself gaue sentēce in causes of the law, he himself did cause to giue chastisement to offenders. This Licurgus was of a valiant mind in warres, of great deuise in time of perill, certaine in things determined, seuere with rebels, in sodaine assaults of great readinesse, affable with offenders, & a mortal enemie of vagabonds. They say that this Philosopher did inuent the Olimpiades, whiche were certaine playes vsed euery fourth yéere in the mountaine Olimpus, to the ende that all shoulde giue themselues to studie, or to learne some Art, bicause in that assembly which there they vsed, euery man made a proofe of his knowledge, and the sprite that was giuen him. Licur­gus was the first that gaue lawes to the Spartans, which after­wards were called Lacedemonians: whiche is to vnderstand, before Solon, and Numa Pompilius.

And also it is written of him, that he was the first that in­uented in Greece, to haue publique or cōmon houses founded at the charges of the common wealth, & also endewed, where the sicke might be cured, & the poore refreshed. Before the days [Page 22] of Licurgus, the Lacedemonians were a people very absolute, & also dissolute: for which cause y^e good Philosopher did passe im­mesurable trauels, & no lesse perils amongst thē, before they would be gouerned by a King, or liue vnder a law. On a cer­taine day before al the people, he tooke two little dogges new whelped, the one of the which he fedde in his own house very faire & fat: the other he cōmanded to be brought vp in a coun­trey house,Of him that brought vp one dog fat in idlenesse and in the house, & the other in the field. with hunger, & to vse the fields. These dogs being thus brought vp, he cōmaunded thē to be brought to the mar­ket place, in the presence of the whole multitude, & throwing before them a liue Hare, & a great péece of flesh: presently the countrey dog ran after the Hare, and the pampered dogge to the fleshe. Then said Licurgus, you are witnesses that these two dogges were whelpt in one day and in one howre, in one place, of one Syre & Dam. And for that the one was brought vp in the field, he ran after the Hare: and the other that was brought vp in idlenesse, ran to his meat. Beléeue me ye La­cedemoniās, To be good, it doth much profite to be well brought vp. & be out of doubt, that to proue good & vertuous, it importeth muche, from the infancie to bée well gouerned and brought vp: for we retaine much more of y^e customes wher­with we be bred, thē of y^e inclinatiōs wherwith we be borne.

Licurgus comming to his old age, commaunded to call all the Noble and most principal of his kingdome, and being ga­thered togither at the dores of his Temple, said these wordes: I haue knowen many yéeres since, how ye goe complayning and blaming me and my lawes, affirming & swearing that they are very sharpe to be obserued, and intollerable to be ac­complished, and that iointly by my death there may end both the law and the law giuer, I will goe to the Ile of Delphos, to consulte with the God Apollo, if these my lawes be iust or vn­iust, and by the same God I do sweare, to stand to that which he shal say, and to performe what he shall commaund. Ther­fore, oh ye Lacedemonians, it is conuenient, that all you ioint­ly do sweare in this holy temple, that vntill I returne either aliue or dead from the God Apollo, you shall not breake the lawes that you haue sworne, the good God Apollo being wit­nesse. [Page 23] This good King and Philosopher departed, minding neuer to returne from the Ile of Delphos, and prouided before he should die, a great chest of lead, wherin they should enclose him, and cast him into the depth of the Sea, at the instant that his life should depart.

Very worthy is Licurgus to be praysed, in that he woulde banish himselfe from his owne Countrey, vnto the ende his common wealth should remaine bound vnto good Lawes.

And the Lacedemonians are much to be commended, that haue so kept their othe, as if Licurgus were aliue. Behold most serene Lady, the life that the philosopher led. Now we shal re­cite the lawes he did ordaine, the which although they were many and very good, yet we shall here repete but some.

MOst high & mighty Princes, sir Iohn Mārique gaue me ij-letters frō your honors, signed & sealed wherin you gaue me to vnderstād how you had chosē me for your cēsor & iudge [Page 28] vpon a certain doubt wherin both haue doubted, and suffici­ently contended. I my Lordes, doe accept the same, and doe declare my selfe for your Iudge in this behalfe, vpon such cō ­dition, that neither of you appeale from the sentence, and fur­ther, that yée paye the costes of the processe, and the penaltie ye shall be condemned in. But first I do note and blame your Honours, and in a manner reprehend, that suche contention shoulde rise betwixt you, for that betwene so high personages, conference is admitted, but contention vtterly condemned. Noblenesse and contētion did neuer accompanie in one gene­rous personage, which is not so in the ignorant & contendor, hauing betwéene themselues so great parentage.Gentlemen may commen, but not cōtend It is conue­nient to the Philosophers, to proue, to prosecute, and to maintaine all that whiche they shall speake: but to the good Knight it doth not appertaine to contend, but to defend. The Knight that is of a noble minde,For what causes a Gen­tleman may be inflamed with choler. valiant, and of courage, his choler is neuer inflamed, but in drawing of his sworde. For he proueth very seldome valiant, that is giuen to be a brabler.

But cōming to the purpose, your Honours do write, that all your contention hath risen for the verifying, and the vn­derstanding, which of these two Cities hath bene Numantia: that is to wit, Ciquentia, or else Monviedro. Likewise you write, you haue not onely contended, but also haue waged a good Mule for him in whose fauour the sentence shall be gi­uen. Speaking with such consideration as is due to so highe personages, if the one do no better vnderstand to praye, and the other to giue battell, than ye vnderstand in Chronicles and auncient histories, in vaine is the one Archbishop of Ci­uile, and the other Duke of Naiara.

Helia is nowe Ierusalē, and Byzantio is Constantino­ple.Howe much distance is betwixte Helia and Thiro, from Bizantio to Mephis, from Rome to Carthage, from Agripina to Gades: so much is betwixt the citie of Numantia and Sagunto: bicause the most auncient Numantia: was founded in Castile: and the generouse citie of Sagunto, was situate néere to Va­lentia. Numantia & Sagunto were two most ancient & famous [Page 29] Cities, and very much renoumed and celebrate in Spaine: in opinions contrary, in kingdomes diuers, in situations diffe­rent, in names discordant, and also in conditions variable: for Sagunto was founded of the Greekes, and Numantia of the Romanes. The Citie of Sagunto was alwayes friend and al­lied with the Romanes, & mortall enimie to the Carthagians. But the Citie of Numantia, neither was friend to the one, or confederate with the other: for they neuer gaue obediēce to any, but alwaies made a Seigniory of it selfe.

The seate of the Citie of Sagunto, was foure leagues from Valentia, where is now Monviedro: & he that shall say, that, which we call now in Castile Ciguenca, was in time paste the Citie Sagunto: it shall be because he dreamed it, & not to haue read it. Being Inquisitor of Valentia, I was many times at Monviedro, as well to visite the Christians, as to baptise the Moores. And considering the sharpnesse of the place, the anti­quitie of the walles, the greatnesse of the colledge, the distāce from the Sea, the statelinesse of the buildings, and the mon­strousenesse of the sepulchers, there is none, but he may vn­derstand that to be Monviedro, which was Sagunto, and that which was Sagunto is now Monviedro. In the fields of Mon­viedro and in the ruinous buildings that be there at these daies, there are found many stones ingrauē, and many aun­cient Epitaphes of the Hannibals, & of the Asdrubals that died there in the siege of Sagunto: the which were two linages of Carthage, very notable of bloud, and also famous in armes. Neare to Monviedro there is a certaine place, that in those daies was called Turditanos, & is now named Torres torres: & for that they were mortall enemies of the Saguntines, Hanni­ball put himself in with them, and from thence did make his batterie, & did throw downe & burne the citie of Sagunto: not succoured then of the Romanes, or euer after reedified.

Behold here my Lords, how your contention was, which was Sagunto, and not whiche was Numantia: So that Soria and Samorra doth rather giue doubte, whiche was Numantia, and Monviedro and Sigentia, which was Sagunto. But the re­solution [Page 30] and conclusion of all the aforesayde, considering the merites of the processe, and what eyther partie hath alledged for him selfe, I doe say and declare by my definitiue sentence, that the Archbishop of Ciuile, did faile, and the Duke of Naiara did erre: in the thing that both did contend, and lay their wa­ger. And I condemne either of them in a good Mule, to be em­ployed vpon him that shall declare whiche was the greate Numantia.

I my Lordes will now recount and declare whiche was that Citie Numantia, and also say, who was the founder ther­of, where it was fōnded, how it was founded, and what time it lasted, and also how it was destroyed, for that it is an histo­ry very delectable to read, worthie to be vnderstood, pleasant to recount, and lamentable to heare.

MOst renoumed Lorde and Captaine to Caesar, about the dead of this night, Peter Herro deliuered mée a Letter from your Lordship, the whiche al­thogh it had not come firmed or with superscription, by the letter I should haue knowen it to be written with your owne hand: bicause it conteined few lines & many blots. While you are in the warres, it is tollerable to write on grosse paper,In the war­res it impor­teth dot to write with an euill pen. with crooked lynes, euill ynke, and blotted letters: For good warriers doe more esteme to sharpen their launces, than to make pennes. Sir, you write vnto me, that I should pray for your health and victorie, for that at the commaundemente of Caesar, you goe to besiege Founterabie, which was taken by the Admirall of Fraunce, the same béeyng of the Crowne of Castile. Thys youre seruaunt preaceth with such diligence for this letter, that I shal be forced to answer more at large than I can, and muche lesse than I woulde. As touchynge Founterabie, I doe certaynly beléeue, that within these two yeares, the takyng and susteynyng of it, hathe coste the French King more than it would haue cost to haue bought, or else to haue buylt it.More is spent to maynteyne opinion, than to defende reason. Wherof there is no cause to haue maruell, for that great Lordes and Princes do spend much more in susteyning the opinion they holde, than the reason that they vse. In all christendome (at this presente) I fynde not an enterprise more dangerous than this of Founterabie. For either you muste ouercome the French king, or else dis­please the Emperor. I wold say, that ye take in hand to deale with the might of the one, and with the fauour or disgrace of the other. To be a Captain generall is an estate verie hono­rable [Page 38] and profitable, although ryght delicate. For notwith­standing hée doe all that he can; and all that is méete to bee done, it by the mishap of his sinnes hée giue any battel, and carie not away the victorie, it is not sufficiēt that the sorow­full man doe lose his lyfe, but also they séeke some faulte, by the whiche they say he lost that battell. Be it that euery man be what he can, and fight what he may, yet neuer to this day haue we séene a conquered Captain called wyse, neyther him that ouercame, termed rashe. It is verie good, that the Cap­taines which fight,No excuse may excuse y^e losse of a bat­tayle. and the Physitions that cure, be wise: but it is muche better, that they be fortunate: For these bée two things wherein many tymes wysedome fayleth, and fortune preuayleth. Sir you do take in hand an enterprise iuste, and verie iust: bicause from tyme out of mynde to this day, wée haue neuer heard or séene, the towne of Founterabie possessed by any king of France, neyther any king of Castile to haue gi­uen it them: In suche wyse, that it is a conscience for them to holde it, and a shame for vs not to take it.

Sir consider well for your owne part, that a warre so iust, be not lost through some secrete offence:A iust warre is loste by an vniust cap­taine. bycause the disgra­ces and ouerthrowes that do happen in such like enterprises, doe not chaunce bicause the warre is not iust, but for that the conductours thereof bée vniuste. The warre the Hebrewes made with the Philistines in the mount of Gilboa, was a war verie iust, but king Saule that had the conduction therof, was a Kyng verie vniuste, for whose cause the Lorde did permit that noble battayle to be lost, to the ende the kyng should be slayne in the same.

But as the iudgements of God are in them selues so high, and of vs so vnknowen, many times it dothe happen, that a king or prince doth chose out one of his seruāts, to make him general of an armie, to the ende he be honored, and his state more amended than the rest: And on the other side, God doth permit, that there where he thought to obtayn most honor & good happe, from thence he dothe escape moste shamed and confounded. Let it not bée thought of Princes and of great [Page 39] men, that séeing they woulde not abstaine from sinne, they shall more than others auoyd the payne.An euill lyfe doth come to make repay­ment in one day. For God doth com­passe them in suche wise, that they come to make paymente in one houre, of that whiche they committed in all their life. In the house of God there hath not, is not, neyther shall be, merite without reward, or fault without punishment. And if it hap that presentely wée sée not the good rewarded, eyther the euill chastised, it is not for that God doth forget it, but vn­till an other tyme to deferre it.

The Marshall of Nauarre with his band of Agramontenses, wée vnderstande is in the defence of Founteraby: it séemeth not to be yll counsell, to make youre siege openlye, and to practise wyth them secretely. For although they be nowe seruauntes to the Frenche Kyng: they shal remember they were subiectes to our Caesar: for so much as I finde in old Hi­stories, that this linage of Marshalls of Nauarre is auncient, generous, and valyant. And for my parte I doe firmely be­léeue, that the Marshall had rather serue Caesar his lord, than folow the French king his master. The good Scipio the Affri­cane, did vse to say, that al things in the warrs ought to be as­sayed before the sworde be drawne: And surely he did speake most truely: Bicause there is not in all this world so greate a victorie as that which is obtayned withoute bloud.The more noble victorie is that which is obtayned by counsel thā by the sword. Cice­ro to writing to Atticus, dothe saye and affirme, that the deuise that vanquisheth the enimyes with counsell, is of no lesse worthynesse, than he that ouercommeth by the sworde. Sylla, Tyberius, Caligula, & Nero, neuer could but cōmaund & kill, and on the other side, the good Augustus, Titus, and Traianus, coulde not but pray and pardon, in suche maner, that they ouercame praying, as the other fighting. The good Surgion oughte to cure with swéete oyntments, and the good Captaine with discrete persuasions. For as for yron,Iron was made to eare fields, and not to kill men. God rather made it to eare fieldes, than to kill men. Plutarch dothe saye, that Sci­pio being at the siege of Numantia when they were importu­nate that he should besiege the Citie and destroy the Numan­tins, answered: I had rather conserue the life of one Roman, [Page 40] than kill all those in Numantia. If these words of Scipio were wel considered of the Captains of warre, peraduenture they woulde leaue to bée soo rashe in hazardyng theyr armyes in so greate and many perils. Wherof doth folow oftentimes that thinking to be reuenged of their enimies, they execute vengeance of their owne proper bloud.

All this haue I sayde (noble Constable) to the ende that sith Caesar hath iustified the warre of Founterabie, your noble­nesse of your parte should also iustifie the same: And the iu­stification whiche you haue to make, is: First persuade thē, before you come to besiege them,We ought rather to make tryall by per­swasion, than by sworde. bicause it doth many times happen, that the prayers of a friend may doe more, than the sworde of the enimie. Of the good Emperoure Theodosius the historie writers recount, that vntill ten dayes were past after he had besieged any Citie, he did not permit his souldi­ours to make warre, neyther to misuse the neighbors ther­of: Saying and proclayming euery daye, that those tenne dayes space hée gaue them, to the ende they shoulde profite themselues by his clemency, before they should make proof of his power. When the greate Alexander did sée the deade bo­die of Darius, and Iulius Caesar: the heade of Pompeius: and Marcus Marcellus, Syracusa burne: and the good Scipio, Nu­mantia destroyed: They coulde not detaine their eyes from wéeping, althoughe they were mortall enimies. For if the tender hearted and noble mynded, reioyce of the victorie, they are grieued with others spoyle. Beleeue me (noble Consta­ble) that pitie and clemencie doe neuer blunt the launce in tyme of warre:The bloudie Captain doth finishe his days with an euill ende. Iulius Ce­sar pardoned more enimies than he kilde. And on the other side, the Captaine that is blouddie and reuenging, eyther the enimies doe kill him, or else his owne doe sell hym. Iulius Caesar, not vndeserued, shall hold the supremacie amongst the Princes of the world: and not bycause hée was more fayre, stronger, valyanter, or more fortunate than the rest: but for that, without com­parison, muche more were the enimies hée pardoned, than those he ouercame or killed. We doe reade of that famous Captaine Narsetes, that he did subdue the Frenche, ouercame [Page 41] the Bactrians, and did conquere and gouerne the Germains: and with all thys, dyd neuer gyue battayle to the enimies: but hée wepte in the Temples the night before.It is more lo­ued that is obteyned by re­quest than by the sworde. The king­dome wherein the Emperour Augustus moste delighted and ioyed, was that of the Mauritanes, whyche is nowe called the kyngdome of Marrewcos. And the reason that he gaue for this, was: bycause all other kingdomes he got by the sword, and this kingdome he obtained by entreatance.

If vnto my wordes it please you to giue credite, trauayle that Founterabye maye bée yéelded, rather by composition than by force: For that in graue and doubtefull cases: firste men oughte to profite themselues with their pollicie, before they make proofe of Fortune. All the rest that your Lordship dothe commaunde mee, I will perfourme with greate good will: Whiche is to witte, that I praye vnto our God, for your Lordships victorie. And that hée giue vnto mée of hys glorie.

From the towne of Victoria, the .xiij. of Ianuary .1522.

FAmous and moste valiaunt Captayne, yesterday béeyng Sainct Luces day, Lo­pes Osorius gaue mée a letter from your woorship, made at the siege of Toledo: And of a truthe,In tyme of warre it bese­meth not a knighte to write from his house. I didde muche reioyce therein: and no lesse estéeme the same, to bée written of suche a hande, and sente from suche a place. For in the tyme of rebellion, as nowe, the Knyght ought not to write from his house resting, but from the Campe fightyng. The Priest oughte to boaste hymselfe of his studie: the husband­man of his plough: and the Knyght of his launce. In suche wyse, that in a good common wealth, the priest prayeth, the husbandman ploweth, & the Knight fighteth. He is not to be [Page 42] accounted a knight, y^t is extract of noble blud, in power great, in iewels rich, in seruāts mighty: for al these things in mar­chauntes is many times found, and also of a Iewe many ty­mes obtained.Note y^e right conditions of a right gētle­man. But that whiche maketh the Knight to be a perfect gentleman, is to be measured in his words, liberal in giuing, sober in diet, honest in lyuing, tender in pardoning, and valiant in fightyng. Notwithstanding any one be no­ble in bloud, and mightie in possessions, yet if hee bée in his talke a babbler, in eating a glutton, in condition ambicious, in conuersation malicious, in getting couetous, in trauells impatient, and in fightyng a coward: of such we shal rather say, to haue more abilitie for a carle, than for a Knight: vile­nesse, sluggishnesse, nigardship, maliciousnesse, lying, and co­wardnesse,Is a gentle­man a fault is tolerable, if it be not vile. did neuer take repast with knighthoode. For in the good knight, although there may be founde wherewith to be reprehended, there ought not to be conteyned wherfore to be reproued.

In our age there hath bin no tyme, wherin the good knight mighte better shewe his ablenesse, or to what ende hee is, than at this instant: bicause the King is out of his kingdom, the Quéene is sicke, the royall Counsell is fledde, the people rebell, the gouerners are in Camp, and all the kingdome out of quiet: nowe or neuer, they ought to trauaile, and die, to ap­pease the kingdome, and euery man to serue his King. The good Knight doth now turne his gloues into gantlets: Mules into horsses, his buskins into greues, his hattes into Hel­mets, his doublets into Harnesse, his sylke into mayle, his golde into yron,The good knight hath in possessiō more armour than bookes. his hunting into fighting: In such wise that the valiant knight ought not to boaste himselfe of his great Librarie, but of his good armorie. For the weale of the com­mon wealth, it is as necessarie that the knight doe arme, as the priest reuest himselfe: for as prayers do remoue sinnes, euen so doth armour defende from enimies.

Sir, I haue sayd all this, to the ende you shall vnderstande there, that we know here all that you do in your campe: and also, all that you do say: Wherwith you ought not to be grie­ued, [Page 43] sith euery man dothe praise your wisedome, and mag­nifie your Fortune. In the register of fame maruellous is the great Iudas Machabeus: the whiche when he was coun­selled by his souldiours by flying to saue their liues,Iudas Ma­chabeus had rather lose his his lyfe, than his fame. euen at the instant to giue battaile, sayd: God neuer permit, that we put our fame in suspitiō, but that this day we die all here, to kéepe our lawes, to succour our brethren, and not to liue de famed. Great account doe the Gréeke writers make of their king Agiges, the which vpon the point to giue battayle to the Licaonians: when his souldiors began to say, that the enimies were very many, he made answere: The Prince that will subdue many, of necessitie must fight with many.To cōmaund many wil cost muche. Anaxandri­das Captaine of the Spartans, béeing demaunded why those of his armie did rather endure themselues to be slaine than ta­ken, answered: That it was a lawe amongst them much v­sed, rather to dye frée, than lyue captiues. The great Prince Bias, holding warres with Iphicrates Kyng of the Athenians, when hée happened to fall into the stale of his enemies, and hys Souldiours beganne to crie, what shall we doe? he made aunswere: That you make reporte to those that are aliue, that I dye fyghtyng: and I will say there to the dead, that you scapte flying. Leonidas the sonne of Anaxandridas, Note the wordes of a vali­ant captain. and brother to Cleomenides, fighting in a certayn battaile, when his souldiours sayd, the enemies dyd shoote arrowes so thick that the Sunne was couered. He aunswered: Then lette vs fighte in the shade. Charrillus the fifte King after Licurgus, béeing in warre with the Athenians, when one of his Cap­taynes didde aske an other if hée dydde knowe what num­ber the enemyes were: Charrillus answered: The valiant and noble mynded Captaynes ought neuer to enquyre of their enimies, howe many they are, but where they be.To demaunde how many, & not where the enimies be, is a signe of fear. The one is a signe of flying, the other of fyghting. Alcibiades a fa­mous Captaine of the Athenians, in the warres he held with the Lacedemonians, when they of his campe sodenly made a­larum with great cries, that they were fallen into their ene­mies handes: [...]e valiant and feare not (quod he) we are not [Page 44] fallen into their handes, but they into oures.

I thought good to recounte these fewe antiquities, that it may be knowne to all that be presente, and also notified to those that are absent, that amongst these so glorious perso­nages, your noble worthinesse mighte be recounted: for that they neyther did excéede you in their wordes they spake, nei­ther in their actes they did.

We haue here vnderstoode in what manner the armye of Toledo did make their salye, to take away a great bootie that you were driuing to your Campe: and many of your soul­diours did not onely begin to flée, but also gaue you counsell to saue your selfe by running away: but you of your part, as a man of muche courage, and a Captaine of no lesse experi­ence, gaue onset amongst the enimies, crying: Here Gentle­men here, shame, shame, victorie, victorie, if this daye wée o­uercome, we obtain that we desire, and if we die, we perform our duetie.Words word­thy to be en­graued on his tombe. Oh woordes worthy to bée noted, and right wor­thie vppon your tombe to be engrauen: Since it is certain that you slew that day more thā .vij. with your sword, & with your noblenes of mind ouercame more than seuen thousand.

Trogus Pompeius doth saye many tymes and in many pla­ces,Of more va­lue is the no­ble mynded & expert captain than a greate armie. that the innumerable victories whiche the Romaines did obtain, were not so much for that their armies were of such power, but bicause their Captains were of experience.

And this may we verie well beléeue, for we euery day sée that the happie successe of a battell, is not so much attributed to the armie that fighteth, as to the captain that ouercōmeth. The Assyrians doe muche glorie themselues of their captaine Belus: The Persians of Syrus: The Thebans of Hercules: The Iewes of Machabeus: The Grekes of Alcibyades: The Troyans of Hector: The Aegyptians of Osiges: The Epirothians of Pyr­hus: The Romains of Scipio: The Carthagians of Hanniball: The Spaniardes of Viriato.

Who was the valiāt Viria­to captain of Spayne.This noble man Viriato was naturall of the prouince of Lusitania, the which is now called Portingale. In his youth he was first a shepeherd, afterwarde a ploughman, and then a [Page 45] robber, and in fine made Emperour, and of his countrey on­ly defendour.Viriato was inuincible in the warres. The writers of Rome themselues doe recount of this valiant Captaine Viriato, that in fiftéene yeares that the Romaines helde warre with hym, they coulde neuer kill, take, eyther foyle hym. When they founde him inuincible, and not to be ouercome in battaile, they ordeyned treason to kill him with poyson.

Sir, I thought good to bring this Historie in remembrāce, to the ende that in this ciuill warre, that we the Gentlemen hold with the Communers, that you shew your self an other new Machabeus amongst the Hebrues: and an other newe Vi­riato amongst the Spaniards: To the end that our enimies may haue what to say, and your friends what to prayse.

But to let the conclusion bée, that you ceasse not to trauell (as you haue a noble mynde) to giue aduenture vpon your e­nimies, that you may also resist al vices:Fewe vices are sufficiente to darken many victories. for men of valiant­nesse, as your worship is, fewe vices are sufficient to darken many victories. As concerning the reste, that M. Hernando of Vega did commend vnto mée of your part, wich is to wit, that since you haue doone notably in the warres, it maye bée remembred in the Chronicles. Sir, holde your selfe for hap­pie, that if your launce shall be such as was Achilles, my pen shall be suche as that of Homere.

From Medina of Ruisseca, the .18. of Februarie. 1522.

MOste famous and right noble Lorde and Master of the house to Caesar, your honoure requireth by youre Letter, that I should send vnto you the expo­sition of that text of Christe, whiche sayeth, My yoke is sweete, and my bur­den is lyght, the whiche you heard me preache the other day before his ma­iestie [Page 46] in the sermon of all saincts, and that you delighted not a little to heare it, and no lesse desire to haue the same in wri­ting. Also you write, it shall not be muche for me to take the payne to send the exposition thereof, for that you came to vi­site me when I was Warden of Soria: in suche wise, that if I would not performe your request of courtesie: you would de­maund it by iustice.

I will not denie, but that visitation was to me no smal pleasure and consolatiō: for that the Monasterie is moist and y^e soyle cold, the aire subtill, scarce of bread, euil wines, crude waters, and the people no fooles: for in very déede, if in other parts they iudge what they sée, there they speake what they thinke. That which I most wanted, was not lacke of vitay­les, but the company of friends, without which, there is nei­ther countrey doth like, or conuersation that dothe contente. You haue greate reason to demaunde the visitation you vsed with me,Note what is due betwixte friendes. and the consolation you gaue me: for the good fréend doth owe no more vnto his fréend then to remedie his necessi­ties, and to comfort him in his aduersities.

For so great courtesie, if I would vse liberalitie, I am not of power: if I would serue you, I haue not wherewith: if I would visit you, I haue no libertie: if I woulde requite or re­compence you, I am poore: if I woulde giue any thing, you haue no néede. That which I am able to performe, is to con­fesse the curtesie ye then vsed with me, and to accomplishe that, which you now commaund me, although if be not very great, it is not to be estéemed as little, that I holde you as my good Lord, and choose you for my friend. For it is muche more to gratifie a good turne receyued, than to recompence it.

Vice for vice, and euill for euill: there is none in this world so euill as the ingrate man.Ingratitude seldom or ne­uer pardoned. And of this it commeth that the humayne and tender hart doth pardon all iniuries, except in­gratitude: which he neuer forgetteth. Alexander in vsing libe­ralitie, and Iulius Caesar in pardoning of iniuries, to this daye there haue not bin born two Princes that excéeded, or else to bée compared vnto them. And with this, it is readde of [Page 47] them, that if they had knowen a man ingrate, Alexander woulde not gyue hym, neyther Iulius Caesar woulde par­don him.

From Madrid the .x. of Iune. 1526.

VIlloria your Solicitor and seruaunt gaue me a letter of yours here in Borgos, written in Os­suna the .xxiiij. of August, the which, (although he departed from thence in the same moneth) came hither the .xv. of Nouember. Your let­ters be so wise and so well prouided for, that before they come out of their Countrey they will haue Au­gust and the grape gathering past. If it had bene powdred fleshe as it is a letter, it had good time to come hither very well seasoned, for by this time it had taken salt. Sir, the let­ters that you haue to sende, and the daughters that you haue to marry, care yée not to leaue them far ouer yeared:Daughters are to be mar­ried before they grow old for in our countrey they do not ouer yeare other things than their bacon, which they will eate, and their store wine which they will drinke.

There is much lesse distāce betwixt Ossuna & Borgos, than is betwixt Rome & Constantinople. And the Emperour Augu­stus gaue cōmaundement vnto al his Viceroys that were resi­dent in the East, that if they did not receiue his letters within xx. daies after they were written, they should not take thē as receiued, although in processe they did receiue them, saying, that afterwardes there might happen some thing in Rome whiche were to be otherwise prouided than according to the first letters. The Emperour Tiberius Caesar, if the letters that came frō Asia were not of .xx. daies writing, & those that came from Europa of .xv. and those that came from Africa of x. and those that came from Yllirica of .v. and those that came out of [Page 54] all Italie of .iij. daies, he would neither read them, and much lesse prouide for them.

Sir, it séemeth to me that you ought from henceforth to talke, indent and also couenant with your letters, that if they come to Caesars Court, they make more haste vpon the way: for (in deede) speaking the truth, & that with libertie, if your letters were wood of the Pines of Soria, as they be letters of Ossuna, by the faith of a Christian, they might come so drie, y^t therof might be made both dores & windowes. Although they giue me many Letters togither, presently I know yours a­mong the rest: the which come wrinkled like linnē, rusty like bacon, besweat like a doublet: & beside al this, to open & read them, there néedeth no force or necessitie to teare thē, for that the foldes come all broken, and the seales all to pieces.

Philistratus in the life of Apolonius Thioneus saith, that it was a custome amongst the Ipimeans, The Ipineās did write the date of their letters with y^e superscriptiō. to put the date of their letters with the superscriptiō, to the end, if they were but few daies written, to read thē, & if they were ouer yeared, to teare them. If (as you be a Christiā) you had bin a Ipimean, be sure & out of doubt, that of a .100. letters writtē with your hād .98. shold be torne. And also I doubt, whether the other two shold be read. But since it is true that the Date of the letter is old, yet that the letters be good and legible, I sweare by the holy things of God, that it séemeth rather the caracters wherwith they write musike, than the letter of a Gentleman.

If your Tutor you had in your youth did not instruct you better to liue, than your scholemaister to write, your life should be no lesse disgraced in the sight of God, than your euill letter to my discontētation. For I giue you to wit, that I had rather take in hand to conster cifers, thā to read your letters.

With what paper they were wont to write.According to the varietie of time, so was the discouering of the manner of writing amongst men. For (according to the saying of Strabo) in the beginning of the worlde, first they did write in ashes, afterwardes in Kindes of trées, then in Stones, afterwardes in leaues of Laurell, afterwardes in shéetes of lead, after that in parchement, and at laste they [Page 55] came to write in Paper. It is also to be noted, that in stones they did write with yron, in leaues with pensils, in ashes with fingers, in rinds with kniues, in parchment with canes, and in paper with pennes.

The Incke that our old forefathers did write withall,Note the inck of old time. was first of a fishe called Zibia, after that they made it of soote of smoke, afterwards of vermilion, after that of Cardenillio: in the end they inuented it of gumme, galles, coperas and wine.

Sir, I thought good to recite these antiquities, to gather thereof (of this your letter) whether it were written with kniues, with yron, with pensilles, or with the finger. For, (as I thinke) it is not possible (at the least) but that you did write it with a cane or with a canon. You haue to vnderstand, that the forme of your letter was, grosse paper, whitish incke, cro­ked lines, letters turned vpside downe, and the reasons blot­ted: so that either you did write it by Moone light, or else it was some childe that beganne to learne at schoole. Although the letter came old, open, slubbred, rent, and all be blotted, is it true, that it was shorte in reasons, and fewe in lines: no surely, but to haue little or nothing to write, it helde twoo shéetes & a halfe of paper. In such wise, that when I did open it and did sée it, I thought it rather to be some citation wher­with they cited me, than a letter whiche any should write to me. The letters written with your owne hand, I cannot tell why they should be closed, and much lesse sealed: for speaking the truth, for more safe I holde your letter being open, than your plate being lockt in your chest. For vnto y^e one a garde­niance is not sufficient: & to the other, a seale is superfluous.

I gaue your letter to be read to Peter Coronell, to sée if it were in Hebrew: I deliuered it to maister Prexamo to tel me if it were in Chaldee, I shewed it vnto Hameth Abducarin, Famouse elo­quence of the Auctor in a base matter. to sée if it came in Arabian: I did present it also to Siculo, that he might sée the stile if it were in Greeke: I sent it vnto maister Alaia, to vnderstand, if it were a thing of Astrologie. Finally, I shewed it vnto Flemings, Almans, Italians, Englishmen, Scottes and Frenchmen, the which all did affirme, that either it was [Page 56] a letter in iest, or else a writing inchanted. And when many said that it was not possible, but that it was a letter inchan­ted, or else infected with a spirit, I determined with my selfe to send it to the great Nigromancer Iohn de Barbota, instant­ly desiring him to read it, or else to coniure it: who aunswe­red by writing, and also certefied me, that he had coniured it, and also put it in circle, and that he could gather of the mat­ter, is, that the letter (without doubt) had no spirit in him: but he aduised me, that he which wrote it should be besprited.

Sir, for that I wish you well, and am also beholding vnto you: I aduertise, and also beséech you, from henceforth to vse some amēdment in your letters, if not, ye may cōmend them to Iohn de Barbota. That your letters shall scape my handes, as good a virgin as Putifars wife did scape the handes of Io­seph, Notable exā ­ples of cōtinē ­cie in Princes or the fayre Sara the handes of Abimelech, or the Hebrues Sunamite the handes of Dauid, or the Dame of Carthage the handes of Scipio, or Phocions wife the handes of Dionisius, or the daughter of King Darius the handes of Alexander, or Quéene Cleopatra the hands of Augustus: finally, I do say that I cannot reade, or els you know not to write.

If the letter, sent by Dauid vnto his Captaine Ioab, vppon the death of the vnhappy Vrias, and the conception of the fayre Bersabe, had bene of this cursed letter, Dauid had not sinned, neither the innocēt Vrias bene slaine. If the consederacie made by Escaurus, Catiline a ty­rant of Rome. and his companions, in the comuration of Catili­ne, had bin of such miserable letter as youres, neither had they receiued so cruell death, or in the Citie of Rome had they raysed so infamous warre? that it had pleased the diuine pro­uidence that you had bene secretarie to Manicheus, to Arrius, Nestorius, Sipontinus, Marius, Ebion, and all the other heretiks that haue bene in the world: for though they had constrayned you to write their excommunicate and cursed heresies: wée should neuer, or any other haue found meane to reade them.

It ought not to be written that cannot be written.Of Plinie in his naturall History, of Clebius in his Astrolo­gie, of Pitus in his Philosophy, of Cleāder in his Arithmetike, of Estilphon in his Ethiks, and of Codrus in his Politikes, all [Page 57] the auncient writers doe most sharpely complaine, bycause in their doctrines they did write some thinges the which are easie to bee reade, but difficill to vnderstand. In the Cap­taineship of these so excellent men: you may well set downe your launce, and also giue thrée poundes of wax to enter their fraternitie. For if their writings will not be vnderstoode, no more may your lines be read.

Many times I do muse, how with the antiquitie of times, and with the varietie of wits, all things haue bin renued, and many made better, except the letters of the A.B.C. in whiche, from the time they were first inuented, there hath bene no­thing added, and much lesse mended.

The A.B.C. holdeth xxj. letters, eightene of the which.The inuētion of the A.B.C. Ne­stor found, and the other thrée, the captaine Diomedes inuen­ted, being at y^e siege of Troy. And surely it is a thing to be no­ted, that neither the eloquence of the Greekes, either the cu­riositie of the Romanes, or the grauitie of the Aegyptians, ne yet the excellency of the Philosophers, both found, or could find, another letter to the A.B.C. to be added, or to be taken a­waye, or to be changed. And although the humaine nations are in some part diuers, at the least, the letters of the A.B.C. thoroughout the world do sound one.

As Solon, Harman Cortes, Pedrarias, and Pisarro, haue disco­uered in the Indies a new world to liue in: it may be, that you haue found out a new A.B.C. to write withall: but I feare mée much, that none will goe to learne at your schole, if the matter therof be like your letters. I say for my owne opi­nion, that you shall neuer come to any good market, to sell your land by such a list.

I will say no more, of the matter of your letter, but that you accept this of mine, as a warning, and therwith of your curtesie I do craue, from henceforth you kéepe your letter vn­moth eaten: And that it may stand with your pleasure, to amend the imperfection of the same: for I haue learned too read, and not to diuine.

I did imagine with my selfe, that of purpose you had sent [Page 58] me this letter in iest, to giue me occasion to answere you in iest: and of very ouerthwartnes you did write to me so, by­cause I should aunswere to the same purpose: if happely it were your intent, Sir you must thinke, that out of such pil­grimage, you can obtaine but like pardons.

Sir from this Court of Caesar, very fewe things are to bée written: although many to be murmured, the newes now are, that many titles of Dukes, Marqueses, Earles, and Vi­countes the Emperour our Lorde and Maister hath giuen to many of his kingdome, thē which do deserue them very wel, for the authoritie of their persons, & for the antiquitie of their houses.

The rentes of great Lords, ought to be a­greeable to their titles.If ye demaund of the rents they receiue, and of the landes and Seigniories they possesse, in these things I do not enter­medle or dare not put to my hand, although it be true that some of these Noble mens estates be so narow and strait, that if it appertained to the Friers Hieronimites, (as it doth to thē) they would shortly choose it within a wall.

Rodrigo Giron, to you beholding, and my speciall friend, desired me of his owne part, and commaunded me of yours, that I should speake to the gentleman Antony of Fonseca, vp­pon I cannot tell what, unbarge, or stay, that you had vppon a licence. Sir I haue dispatchte it, as your authoritie and my fidelitie did require. Since that time I haue not vnderstood, what hath ben done therin: but that which I can certifie you of and affirme, is: If he do perseuer with suche diligence too take order for your licence, as he hath with great earnestnes played away his goodes: your worship shal as well be deliue­red of auditors and of an accompt, as he was this other night of gamsters at dice. For as one of them aduertised me, he lost no more but the cap he did weare: & the spurs vpon his héeles.

There are, that do well resemble their owne, and do fol­lowe the steps of their forefathers: for if I be not forgetfull, I haue séene his father the Iustice or Maior of Montanches, Gamsters at dice play them selues to no­thing. many times kepe his chamber, not bycause hée was sicke, but for that in Merida hée had played and lost all that euer [Page 59] he had. The lord haue you in his kéeping, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Burgos the 15. of September in the yeare 1523.

THe fourth of October, here in Valiodolid I receyued a letter from your honour, written in Villorado the thirtith of September: and considering the distance from hence thither, and the small tarying of your letter from thence hither, too my iudgement, if it had bin a troute, it had come hither very fresh. Pirrhus the King of the Epirotes was the first that inuented currers or postes: and in this case, he was a Prince so vigilant, that hauing thrée armies spred in diuers partes, his seate or pallace being in the Citie of Tarento: in one day he vnderstood from Rome: in two dayes out of Fraunce: in thrée out of Germany: Postes in old time made great speede. and in fiue out of Asia. In such sorte, that his messengers did rather séeme to flie, than otherwise.

The hart of man is such an inuentor of new thinges, and so farre in loue with nouelties, that the more straunge the thing is they say or wright vnto vs, so much the more we do reioyce and delight therein: for that olde things do giue loth­somenesse, and new things do awaken the spirites. This vā ­tage you haue (that can do much) of them that haue but lit­tle, that in short time you write whether you will,Euill newes neuer cōmeth to late. and vn­derstand from whence you think good: although also it is most true, that sometime you vnderstand some newes within thrée dayes, which you would not haue knowen in thrée yeares.

There is no pleasure, ioye, or delight, in this world, that with it bringeth not some inconuenience: in such wise, that that wherin long time we haue had delight, in one day wée pay and yelde againe.

[Page 60]Sir I haue saide thus muche, to the end to continue your good opinion towards Mosen Ruben, your Steward: whiche by the date of your letter, dothe séeme to haue made greate spéede, and to haue slept very little, for he brought the letter so freshe, that it séemed the inke to be scarce drie.

You write vnto me, that I should certefie you, what is the cause, that I being descended of a linage so auncient, of body so high, in the momentes of my prayers so long, and in prea­ching so large, how I am in writing so briefe: especially in my last letter, that I sent from the monasterie of Fres Dell Vall, when I was there preaching vnto Caesar: Whiche you say, did containe but foure reasons, and eight lines.

Sir in these things, that you haue written, you haue giuen me matter, not to answere very short. And if by chaunce I shall so doe from hencefoorth, I say and protest, it shalbe more for your pleasure than for mine owne contentation.

As concerning that you say my linage is auncient, your lordship doth well knowe, that my graundfather was called sir Beltran of Gueuara: The auctor reporteth of his linage of Gueuara. my father also was named sir Beltran of Gueuara: and my Cosin was called sir Ladron of Gueuara, and that I am now named sir Antony of Gueuara: yea and al­so your Lordship doth know, that first there were Earles in Gueuara, before there were Kings in Castile.

This linage of Gueuara, bringeth his antiquitie out of Bri­taine: and dothe containe sixe houses of honour, in Castile: whiche is to wete, the Earle of Onate, in Alaua: sir Ladron of Gueuara, in Valldalega: sir Peter Velez of Gueuara in Salinas: sir Diego of Gueuara in Paradilla: sir Charles of Gueuara in Murcia: sir Beltran of Gueuara in Morata. All which be valiant of persones, although poore in estates & rentes: in such sorte, that those of this linage of Gueuara, do more aduaunce them­selues of their antiquitie, from whence they are descended, than of the goods which they possesse.

To descend of a noble bloud, prouoketh to be vertuous.A man to discend, of a delicate bloud, and to haue noble or Generous parents: doth muche profite to honour vs, and doth not blunte the launce to defende vs: for that infamie [Page 61] doth tempt vs to be desperate: and the honour, to mende our estate. Christ and his Mother would not descend of the tribe of Beniamin, whiche was the least, but of the tribe of Iuda, which was the greater and the better.

They had a law in Rome, named Prosapia, which is to say, the law of linages, by which it was ordained and commaun­ded in Rome, that when contention did arise in the senate for the consulship, that those which discended of the linage of the Siluians, of the Torquatians, and of the Fabritians, should obtain chiefe place before all others: and this was done after this manner, for that these thrée linages in Rome were most aun­cient, and did descend of right valiant Romaines.

They whiche descended of Cato in Athenes: of Licurgus in Lacedemonia: of Cato in Vtica: of Agesilaus in Licaonia: The auncient and noble Li­nages in Rome were much estee­med. and of Tussides in Galacia: were not onely priuiledged in their pro­uinces, but also amongst all nations much honored. And this was not so much for the desert of those that were liuing, as for the merite of the auncient personages that were dead.

Also it was a lawe in Rome, that all those that descended of the Tarquines, of the Escaurians, Catelines, Fabatians, and Bithi­nians, had no offices in the commō wealth:In Rome they bare no office that des­cended of trai­tours. neither yet might dwell within the compasse of Rome. And this was done for the hate they bare to King Tarquin, the Consull Escaurus, the tyrant Catiline, the Censor Fabatus, and the traytour Bithinius: all which were in their liues very vnhonest, and in their go­uernement very offensiue.

Sir, I say this, bicause a man to be euill, descending from the good, surely it is a great infamie: but to descend of the good, and to bée good, is no small glorie. But in fine, it is with men as it is with wines: sometime he sauors of the good soyle, sometime of the caske, & others of the goodnesse of the grapes. A minde not to flie, a noblenesse in giuing, swéete and cur­teous in speach, an heart for to aduenture,The proper­ties of a man born of a good linage. and clemencie to pardon: graces and vertues be these, that are rarely founde in a man of base soyle. And many times suche one is extract of an auncient and Noble linage. As the worlde nowe goeth, [Page 62] vpon who art thou, and what art thou, it doth not séeme to me, a man may haue better blason in his house, than to be, and also descended of a bloud vnspotted. For that such a man shall haue whereof to commend himself: and not wherefore to be despised or taunted.

Sir also you say in your letter, that I am in body large, high, drie, and very straight: of which properties I haue not whereof to complaine, but wherefore to prayse my self. By­cause the wood that is large, drie, and straight, is more estée­med, and bought at a greater price. If the greatnesse of bodie displeased God, hée had neuer created Paulus the Numidian, Hercules the Grecian, Amilon the wilde woodman, Sampson the Hebrewe, A note of the Giants of the old time. Pindarus the Thebane, Hermonius the Corinth, nor Hena the Ethicke: whiche were in the greatnesse of their bodies, so monstrous, and so fearefull, that other men séemed in their presence, as Crikets or Grashoppers do séeme be­fore men.

The first King of Israell, which was Saule, how much diffe­rence is betwixt the shoulders and the crowne of the head, so much was he higher than all the men of his kingdome.

The great Iulius Caesar, was of bodie high and leane, al­though of face, not very faire. It is sayd of Augustus the Em­perour, that he was so highe of stature, that of the high trées, with his owne hands he did gather fruite.

Also it is written of the Consull Silla, that his greatnesse was so excessiue, as hée alwayes stouped to enter at euery doore.

Titus Liuius sayth, that Scipio the Affrican was of so great a stature, that none was equall to him in minde, neither did passe him in heigth of bodie.

The differēce betwixt the great and litle men. Plutarch sayth of Alexander the Great, that according vnto such a minde as he possessed, vnto the world it did seeme they had more than inough of Alexander: and to Alexander it did séeme, that for himselfe the whole world was not sufficient.

Sir this do I say in the ende, hereby to consider howe the heart of man may be contained in a little bodie: Since vnto [Page 63] it, the whole world séemeth very straight: A man, to be very great or very little: of these two inconueniences, the lesse is to be great, bycause the large garment easely is made lesse, but that whiche is too little without blemish or deformitie, cannot be made greater.

Allonso Henricus, Aluergomes, Salaia, Valderrauano, and Fi­gueroa, whiche be little of bodie, although not of minde, euer as I sée them go in Court, séeme to me to be proude, furious, troubled, and angrie. And of this I do not much meruayle: bycause little chimneys alwayes be somewhat fumishe or smokie.

In the Monastery of Toros, of Guisando, Of a little Frier of the Abbay of Guysando. I found there a ve­ry little Frier, whiche for that I knockt thrice arowe, he did braule with me very frowardly, and when I sayde vnto him, that he had little pacience, he made me aunswere, that I had lesse good maner: I intreated him to giue me some drinke, and that we might cease chiding, where vnto he answered: Bro­ther, although you sée me, you knowe me not: I giue you to vnderstand, that I am, as you sée but little, but there withall I am a péece of stéele, and suche greate men and vnweldie as you are, if they speake to me by day, by night they dreame of me: for this other day I caused my self to be measured, and founde the heart to haue aduauntage of the body fiue yardes in measure, whereunto I replied: father, therof is great ne­cessitie, that the heart haue fiue yardes of measure in heigth, since in all your body there is not two Cubites and a half: but after the father heard this, he ceased to chide, and also left me without drinke.

Sir beleue me, the short haquebuts soonest breake, the sma­lest fortes be soonest besieged: the shalowest Seas do soonest drowne: in y^e narowest waies is greatest peril: the straytest garments be soonest rent: and little men bée soonest angrie.

In little beasts,Little thinges giue more of­fence than profite. there is not such strēgth neither such grace as in the great: bycause the Elephant, the Dromedary, the Ox, the Bul, & the Horse, which be great beasts do profite for seruice. But the Flie, the Rat, the Flea, the Grashopper, and [Page 64] the Criket serue not but onely to offend.

And also you note me, that in saying of seruice I am very long, and in contemplation not short, and likewyse as tedious therein as M. Prexmus in telling his tale. But I promise your Lordship, that if I be long in praier, your Lordshippe is not shorte in communication: for many times I haue seene you begin a long tale that I neuer durst tary the end therof: for if I had so done, either I should come to the court at none, or goe to bed at midnight.

Sir I do conferre the moments of my contemplations, with the sinnes of my life, and I do find by my rekoning, that it is not a iust thing to be large in sinning, and short in pray­ing. The maker and redéemer of the worlde, did vse great measure in all things, except in praying: wherin he was al­wayes long, which he shewed most clearely in the garden of Gethsemany, where, how muche the more the agony did op­presse him, so much the more did he enlarge his prayer.

Also your Lordship doth say, that in preaching I am long and tedious, wherto I answere: that in the whole world there is no long sermon, if the hearer do giue eare as a Christian, and not as to curious. I remember the lent past being with your Lordship, they presented vnto your honour, certaine Samons of Penia Melera, whiche you praised for very good, and yet complained that they were very little. In such sorte that your Samons are neuer sufficiently large, or sermons short inough.

A sise is obser­ued in nothing but in sermōs.It is thirtie eight yeares since I was brought to Caesars Court, during which time, I haue séene all things increasing, except sermons, which alwaies doe stand at one staye. This séemeth to be true, for that in our eating we adde more time, in our sleeping we consume more houres, all our garmentes hold more cloth, our houses are more large, our expences more excessiue, our apparell more costly, and the men more vicious. Finally, I say that in our talke, or in any other thing no syse is suffered, but in sermons whiche must not passe a­boue an howre.

[Page 65]Wheras your Lordship saith, I am so short in writing: to this I aunswere, that if I be not deceyued,More graui­tie is required in writing, thā in talking. to talke there née­deth but a certaine liuelinesse, but to write, it is necessary to haue muche wisedome: because, to proue if a man be wise or foolish, there is no other néed, than to put a paire of spurres to his héeles, or a pen in his hand.

In all things I confesse my selfe to be large, except in wri­ting, which I repent nothing: for an inconsidered woorde, I may incontinent reuoke: but the firme of my hand I can not denie. To speake something with too much simplicitie or in­considered, is a sheepishnesse, but to firme it with the hand, is meere folly.

Salust saith, that if the tyrant Catilene and other his felowes had not firmed the letter of their coniuration (although they were accused) they had not bene condemned: in such wise, that as well killeth the penne as the launce. If Laertius, Plutarch, Plinie, Vegetius, Sulpitius, and Eutropius doe not deceiue vs by their histories: many Poetes, Orators, Philosophers, Kings, & Princes, haue bin in the worlde past, of whome it is read, that in their talke they were very large, but in their wri­tings very considerate.

Caesar in a letter that he did write from the Persicke war­res of Rome, said no more but these wordes, Veni, vidi, & vici, Note the bre­uitie of ancient writing. I came, I haue séene, and I ouercame.

Octauius the Emperour, writing vnto his Cousin Caius Drusius, said thus: For that thou art in Illiria, remember thou art of the Caesars, that the Senat hath sent thée, and that thou art a yong man, my nephew, and a Citizen of Rome.

The Emperour Tiberius writing vnto his brother ger­main, said thus: The Tēples be reuerenced, the Gods be ser­ued, the Senate in peace, the common wealth in prosperitie, Rome in health, Fortune gentle, and the yeare fertile: this is here in Italy, the same we desire vnto thée in Asia.

Cicero writing vnto Cornelius sayeth thus: Bée thou mer­ry since I am not euill, for likewise I shall reioyce, if thou be well.

[Page 66]The diuine Plato, writing from Athens vnto Dionysius the tirant, saith thus: To kill thy brother, to demaund more tribute, to force thy people, to forget me thy friende, and to take Photion as an enimie, be workes of a tyrant.

The great Pompeius writing from the East vnto the Se­nate, saith thus: Conscript Fathers, Damascus is taken, Pen­tapolis is subiect, Syria, Colonia, and Arabia is confederate, and Palestina is ouercome.

The Consull Cneius Siluius, writing newes of the battel of Pharsalia vnto Rome, saith thus: Caesar did ouercome, Pom­peius is dead, Rufus is fled, Cato killed himselfe, the gouerne­ment of Dictator is ended and the libertie lost.

Behold Sir, the manner that the ancients vsed in writing to their peculiar friends, which with their breuitie gaue vn­to all men wherefore to be noted, but we in neuer making an end, giue large occasion to be corrected. No more, but that I pray the Lord to be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Valiodolid, the eight of October, in the yere. 1525.

BEing with Caesar in Madrid the .xxij. of March, I receiued a letter from your Lordship, writ­ten the .xxx. of Ianuary: and God be my wit­nesse, that when I sawe and read it, I would rather the date thereof had bin, not from the siege of Marcellus, but from the conquest of Ie­rusalem. For, if it were from Asia, and not from France, your iourney should be more famouse and magnified, and of God much more accepted.

Titus Liuius reporteth of no small variance betwixt Mar. Marcellus, and Quintus Fabius, which did arise vpon the Cen­fulships of the warres, for that the good Mar. Marcellus would not be Captaine of the warre, which was not very well iusti­fied? And Quintus Fabius did not accept to go to the warres, [Page 67] were it not very daungerous.Twoo Ro­mane Cap­taines would two manner of warres. The Romanes were in a mar­uelous vaine glory in that worlde, when these twoo noble Princes were borne: but in the ende, muche more was the estimation of Marcus Marcellus (for being iust) than of Quint. Fab. for being valiaunt.

The Romanes were neuer so foyled, or euer did incurre so muche dishonor in the warres of Asia, either in Africa, as they receiued at the siege of Numantia. And this was not for de­faulte of batterie, eyther bicause the Citie was very strong,The warres against Nu­mantia was vmust. but for that the Romanes had no reason to make them warre. And the Numantines had iust cause to defend themselues.

Helie the Spartan doth say, that onely the Emperour Traian was hee, that neuer was ouercome in battell. And the reason thereof was this, that he did neuer take any warre in hand, wherein he did not iustifie his cause.

The King of Pontus whiche was called Mithridates, dyd wryte a certaine Letter vnto the Consull Silla, being bente in warres moste cruelly the one against the other, wherein was thus written: I doe muche wonder of thée Consull Sil­la, to take warre in hande in so straunge a lande as this of mine: and that thou darest aduenture to deale with my great fortune, since thou knowest shée neuer deceiued mée, neither had acquaintance with thée. To these woordes the Consull did answere: Oh Mithridates, I weighe it very little to holde warre farre from Romae since the Romanes haue fortune al­wayes by them. And if thou say, that she did neuer fayle thée, nor euer know mée, thou shalt now sée, how (in vsing hir of­fice) she shall passe to mée, and take hir leaue of thée. And al­though it be not so, I do neither feare thée, or doubte hir, for that I hope that the Goddes will do more for my iustice, than for thée thy great fortune.

Many times the Emperoure Augustus vsed to say: that warres to be good, must be incommended vnto the Goddes,The nature of warres that is to be holden iust. accepted of Princes, iustified of Philosophers, and executed of Captaines.

Thus much I haue saide vnto your Lordship, to this end, [Page 68] that if your warre had bin vpon Ierusalem: it were to be hol­den for iust, but for that it is vpon Marsellius, alway we hold it for scrupulous. The kings hart is in the hand of God, saith the diuine scripture. If it be so, who may attaine vnto this so great a secret? whiche is to wéete, that the Kings hart, being in Gods hand, he dare offend God: which doth appeare most cleare, in that we see no other thing but warres amongst the Christians: and leaue the Moores to prosper and liue in rest. This businesse to me is so difficulte, that although I cā speak thereof: I know not, how to vnderstand it: since all day wée sée no other thing, but that God doth permitte by his secrete iudgements,Warres be­twixt christiās dependeth of the secretes God. that the Churches where they prayse him be de­stroyed and throwen downe: and the cursed remaine sound and frée, where they do offend him.

Your Lordship is a Christian, a good man at armes, my neare kinseman, and my speciall friend, any of which things doth much binde me to féele your trauaile, and to be gréeued with your perill: I speake of trauell to the bodie, bycause the Captaine that holdeth much of his honour, ought to estéeme little of his life: I say perill vnto the soule, bicause amongst Christians there is no warre so iustified, that in the same re­mayneth not some scruple.

Herein your Lordship shall sée that I desire to saue you, in that I will not delite you with lies:Eight condi­cions meete to be performed, by a captaine generall of the warres. But only to say vnto you that which I do conceiue, to the end that afterwards you may do what is méete. If you know not wherunto you are bound, I wish your Lordship to vnderstand, it is, that the Captaine generall do auoyde vniust wrongs, correct blasphemers, suc­cour innocents, chastise quarellers, pay his armie, defend the people, auoyde all sackings, and obserue fayth with the ene­mies.

Assure your selfe my Lord, that there shall come a time, in whiche, you shall giue an accompt to God, and also to the king: not onely of what you haue done, but likewise of that whereunto you haue consented.

Sir Iohn of Gueuara was your Grādfather and my cousin, [Page 69] and he was one of the Gentlemen at armes,The good knight ought to imitate his good predeces­sors. that passed out of Spayne, into Italy with the King Sir Alonso, and there did helpe to get this kingdome of Naples, and in recompence of his seruice, hée made him Lorde greate Seneshall of the kingdome. Of whiche you may gather, howe muche your Lordship ought to trauell, to leaue suche another renoume vnto your successours, as hath bene left vnto you by your predecessors.

As Cicero sayth, writing vnto Articus, this name Knight or Gentleman, the Romaynes did neuer admit, either consent to entitle those that could gather muche riches, but suche as had bene at the victory of many battailes.

That Knight or Gentleman that doth not imitate the va­liant actes of his predecessours, ought not boast himselfe,He is not to be intituled a knight that is rich, but ver­tuous. to descend of them. For, how much the more renoumed the life of the fathers is, so much the more are the children to be ac­cused, for their negligence. To presume much of no more but to descend of Noble parents, I say is a thing most vaine. To blason a mans owne proper déedes is foolishnesse: but in the end of these two extremities, he is more tollerable that prayseth his owne vertues, than he that boasteth himselfe of other déedes.

When amongst Knights or Gentlemen talke is of armes,In the talke of warres, not that I haue heard, but that I haue scene is most com­mendable for a gentleman. a Gentleman ought to haue great shame to say, that he read it, but rather that he saw it. For it is very conuenient for the Philosopher to recount what hee hath read, but the Knight or Gentleman it becommes to speake of things that hée hath done. The Consull Marius, when he was resident in Rome, and also in the warres, many times would say: I confesse that I am extract of linage obscure, and also I acknowledge that I haue no armes of my predecessors, for that they were not florishing Captaines. But iointly with this, they that are now aliue can not denie, that in the temples I haue erected pictures or counterfets, I haue receiued in my body many woundes, and in my house many enseignes: none of which I do enherite of my predecessours, but haue wonne thē of mine [Page 70] enimies. And Marius saide more: Your predecessors left you riches to enioy, houses wherein to dwell, slaues to serue you, gardens to delight in, fame whereof to boaste, and armour wherwith to venter: but they haue not left you vertue, wher­of you might presume. Of which déede, Oh you Romaynes, ye may inferre, that it is very little that he doth enherite, which doth not enherite the vertues of his predecessors.

I thought good to aduertise you of these things, to the end that in remembring the fame and noblenesse of such men as were your predecessours, you should muche more estéeme to imitate their vertuous actes, than too haue their armes sette forth and drawen at large. I am deceiued, if I did not sée in Caesars court, a certaine gentleman of more than a Quent of rent, whiche I did neuer sée haue a horse in his stable, either launce in his house, neither yet commonly did weare his sword, but onely a Dagger that was very little. But on the other part, when he began to recount the doubty déedes of his forefathers, it séemed that he daunted Lions.

The armes of a knight are giuen him to fight, and not to behold.Men do now estéeme to paint their armes in their houses, to graue them in their seales, to place them in their portals, & to weaue them in their sumpter clothes, but none aduētureth to win them in the field: in such wise, that they hold armes, for others to behold: and not for themselues to fight.

One thing I will counsell your lordship: which for suche as are of your estate in the warres, is very necessary: And that is, aboue al things to be vigilant, & to haue great regard, that amongst the captaines of your army, there be vsed great secrecie: for in greate affayres there is neuer good successe, when they be discouered before they take effect. If Suetonius Tranquillus doe not deceyue vs: Iulius Caesar neuer sayde, to morow this shalbe done, and to day let this be done: but one­ly to day this shalbe done, and to morrowe wée shall sée what wée haue too doe. Plutarche saithe in his politiques, that Lu­cius Metellus, being demaunded of one of his Captains, when the battayle shoulde bée giuen, made aunswere: if I thought my shirt did knowe the leaste thought that is in my hart, I [Page 71] woulde presently burne it, and neuer weare another. It were very well the affaires of warres, shoulde bée commo­ned of many, but the resolution of them, to be vsed with few. For otherwise, they are like to be discouered before they bée concluded.

Also I thinke very well,Age and abili­tie be mothers of good coun­sell. that you take counsayle with men that be graue and of experience but not without consi­deratiō, that they be wise, without rashnesse. For sometimes, more sound counsaile doth procéede from men of fewe yéeres, and of much habilitie, than from men that be opinatiue and of old yéeres.

Your Lordship hath great cause to consider howe to take aduise of men, that in their counsayles be headstrong,The gene­rous and no­ble mind dothe more feare to flie, than to a­bide. and in their déedes very rashe: for in daungerous cases that hap­pen in the warres, it is lesse euill to retire, than to be loste. Alcibiades a Captaine amongst the Greekes, did vse to say, that men of bolde and valiant harts haue more néede of fortitude, to moue them to retire, than to abide their enemies. For not to flie, their honour doth moue them: but to retire, their wis­dome doth constraine them.

In greate hazardes it is muche better that men submitte themselues to reason, than to hurle themselues into fortune: In all things your Lordshippe hath to imbrace counsaile,In soden pe­rils it needeth not to vse lōg and delayed counsels. ex­cept it be when you shall see your selfe in some sodaine daun­ger: for in the warre, wée haue séene many Captaines lost, for no other cause, but for that when they should haue done a thing at the sodaine, they haue sit downe with great leysure to take counsell.

Also your lordship ought to admonish your armies, that in their forcible and necessary perilles, they shew not thēselues to be menns dismayed: for the warres be of suche qualities that the feare of some dismayeth the rest. Your Lordship may hold it for certaine: that the heart which is full of feare, must of necessitie be voide of hope. Those that go alwayes to the warres, neither ought to holde victorie for certaine, ey­ther dispayre to obtaine it. For there is nothing wherein [Page 72] fortune is lesse correspondent, than in the affaires of warre.

Brasidas the Greek, in the warres that hée held with the Thracians, when they did take by force of armes a certaine fort which he defended meruailous valiantly, being demaun­ded by one of his enemies,A fort ought to be the sepulchre of the de­fendant. why he had put him selfe within the same for his defēce, answered: I do sweare by the immor­tall Gods, that she did rather commend hir self vnto me to be kept, than I vnto hir to be defended: Bycause in the end, I haue more certentie of hir to serue me for a sepulcher, than for a sauegard.

I will saye no more in this case, but craue of especiall fa­uour: that in such wise ye behaue your selfe in these warres of Prouance, that it may séeme, and also be to all men notori­ous, that you do more for the obedience of your Lord the Em­perour, than to be reuenged of the French king. For otherwise God would take vengeance of your reuengement.

The penne of gold that you sent me I haue receiued, and so I beleue your Lordship shall receiue Marcus Aurelius, whiche I do send you: the difference betwixt the one and the other is, that in the Booke your Lordship may vnderstand my sim­plicity, and in the pen there doth appeare your great bountie. No more, but that our Lorde be your protectour, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Valiodolid, the xix. of Au­gust, 1524.

IF the Lady Marina your wife bée as well affected to your person, as my penne is offended at your slouthfulnesse: you may safely marrie without after repentāce. And I think not that I bind my selfe vnto a small matter in saying, that in your mariage you shall find no repentance, for surely, I wish too haue no more contrition of my sinnes, than many men haue [Page 73] too think themselues maried.If many be married, they are not fewe that be repen­tant. To contract matrimonie with a woman, is a thing very easie: but to sustaine it vnto the end, I hold it for very difficult. Whereby it comes to passe, that those which mary without respect, but only for loue, liue afterward with sorowe. Considering al the displeasures that proceede of the familie, then tediousnesse of the wife, the care for the children, the necessitie of the house, the prouision for the seruants, the importunitie of the cousins, and the sutes of the sonnes in law: Although of all these thinges the maried doth not repent him, at the least it doth tyre him.

The Philosoper Mirtho, being demaunded why hée did not marry, aunswered:No married man may liue without tra­uell. bycause if the woman (whome I take in mariage) bée good, I shall spill hir, if she bée euill I must supporte hir, if she bée poore I must maintaine hir, if shée bée riche, I must suffer hir, if she bée foule I shall abhorre hir, it she be faire, I must watch hir, and that which is worst of al, for euermore I giue my libertye to hir that shall neuer gratifie mée. Riches bréedeth care, pouerty sorrow, sailing feare, eating heauines, going wearinesse: all which trauel­les we se deuided amongst many, except amongst the maried where they ioyne altogither. For we seldome sée the maried man go without care, sorow, wearied, heauie, yea and al­so sometime astonied, I say astonied, of that whiche maye happen vntoo him, and of that his wife may dare to do.

The man that doth encounter with a woman that is a dizard, foolish, a babler, light, a glutton, a chider,That man is miserable that is maried vn­to a foolish woman. slouth­full, a goer at large, vntractable, iealouse, absolute or dis­solute: it were better for that man too bée a slaue to some honest man, than a husbande too suche a wife. It is a ter­rible thing too suffer a man: but there is very much too bée knowen in a woman. And for no other cause more, than for that they knowe not too vse a measure in louing, or giue no ende in abhorring: I will not, or perchance, I dare not, saye more in this case. For if in the same I should occupie my selfe and giue libertie to my pen, I should want time to write, but not matter to speake.

[Page 74]Not without cause I saide, my pen was angry with your slothfulnesse, since halfe a yeare past I did write vnto you, and you haue not as yet answered me. And afterwards came Iohn de Occanio, and also with him you did not write: in suche wise, that on the one part I call you sluggish, and of the o­ther part note you of negligence.

Worship is not blemished by answering of a letter.Sir, you may take it for a rule, neuer to leaue him vnan­swered that hath taken paine to write vnto you: For that the maister of the henchmen, which is Harnan Sanz de Minchasa, said vnto me, that none lost his worshippe for answering vn­to a letter. To write to our better, is of necessitie: to answere our equall, is of will: but to write vnto our inferiour, is of pure vertue. Alexander the great did write vnto Pulion his bit maker:A Prince did write vnto a bitmaker. Iulîus Caesar to Rufus his gardiner: Augustus to Pā ­philo his smith: Tiberius to Escaurus his miller: Tullius too Mirto his tailer: and Seneca to Gipho his rent gatherer: wher­of it may very wel be inferred, that basenesse doth not consist in writing or answering base persones, but to will or to do vile things.

A noble Ro­mane did write vnto a plough man. Paulus Aemilius writing vnto his plough man, said: I haue vnderstood what word thou didst send me by Argeus, and the aunswer of the same is, that I send thée another oxe, to yoke with that firce oxe, & also I sēd thée a cart redy drest: therfore eare that ground well, dresse the vines, purge the trées, and alway haue memorie of the Goddesse Ceres. Curius Dentatus béeing in warre with Pyrrhus King of the Epirotes, did write a letter vnto a carpenter, which said thus: Cneius Patroclus certified me, that thou dost worke in my house: take héed that the timber be dry, and that thou make the lightes towardes the south, that it be not high, that it be cléere, y^e chimney with­out smoke, with two windowes, and no more but one dore. Alexander the great, writing vnto his smith, said: I send thée a horse, which the Athenians sent me: he and I did scape wounded from the battaile: breath him well euery day, cure wel his wounds, pare his foreféete, let him be vnshod, slit his nose, wash his necke, let hym not growe fat, for that no [Page 75] fat horse may well endure with me in the field. Of the fa­mous Phalaris the tirant, it is read,No man is so euill in whom there is not somwhat to be praysed. that neuer man did him seruice, that he did not gratifye: either write him a letter, that he dyd not aunswer.

So high and so great Princes, as bere we haue named too haue written to men so base and so vile occupations, is not written by historiographers too blemish them, but by the same to magnifie them. Of which we may gather, that: base­nes doth not consist, in wryting or aunswering base persons. but in doing thinges scandolous or vnhonest. In this matter as in all other thinges, you may vse that boldnesse with me as with your selfe: but if vniuersally you vse to do the same with all men, it may be, if your frendes do note you of neg­ligence, there shall not want that will accuse you of pre­sumption.

To be noted angry, enuious, couetous, slothfull, wanton gluttonous, auaricious, certainly is a griefe:Negligence & presumptiō be two things that loseth friends. but to be noted of foolishnes, is an infamie, which giueth me occasion to saye vnto you, that to cal a man presumptuouse by a cunning ma­ner of speach, is to call him foole.

In Caius Caesar there wanted no fortitude, for that he ouer­came many people: either clemencie, for he pardoned his e­nemies: either liberaliitie, for that he gaue kyngdomes: ei­ther science, for that he wrote many Bookes: either fortune, for he was Lorde of all men: But he wanted good manner, which is the foundation of a quiet life.

Amongst the Romanes it was a custome,Euill nurture is hurtfull in all estates. that when the Senate entred the Emperours house, they did vnto him a certaine great obeysance, and he did vse vnto them a certaine curtesie: in doing whereof, as he grew negligent, either for that he woulde not, or not remembring: the case was thus, that within fewe dayes after, they gaue him thrée & twentie stabs with a dagger: in such wise, that, y^e most Noble Prince lost his life for no greater matter, than for not hauing a lit­tle good maner. The contrary of this Suetonius Tranquillus doth write of Augustus y^e Emperour, which being in y^e Senat, [Page 76] or in the Colledge, did neuer sit downe vntill they were all set, and rendred the same reuerence that they gaue him, and if by chaunce his children entred the Senate house, neither did he consent that the Senators shoulde rise, either that his children should sit downe.

Sir, if you will not that men call you presumptuous: or to speake plainly, do call you foole, haue a care to be well ma­nered: for with good maner, more than with any other thing, we withdraw our enemies, and do sustaine our friends.

Sir, I haue spoken with the Popes messenger, vppon the dispensations that you sent to haue, to marry with the Gen­tlewoman the Lady Marina. Whiche wée haue agréed for thrée score ducates,Where is mo­ney, there is dispatch. and as he is a Venetian, and would not be counted a foole, he will first be payed, before you shall be dis­patcht.

I haue spoken with Perianes as concerning the expedition of the priuiledge of the Iury, and as he was deaffe and moste dunch, I cried out more in speaking vnto him, than I do vse in preaching.

The newes of the Courte is, that the Empresse wisheth the Emperours comming, the Dames woulde marrie, the suters would be dispatched, the Duke of Veiar would lyue: Antony de Fonseca woulde grow young: Sir Rodrigo of Voria would enherit, & also Frier Denise wold be a Bishop. Of my selfe I giue you to vnderstand, that I am in possession of all the condicions of a good suter, that is to wit: occupied, solici­ting, carefull, spent, suspicious, importunate, out of temper, and also abhorred: for that my Lorde the Archbishop of To­ledo, and I go to the lawe for the Abbay of Baza, vppon which I haue for my parte a famous sentence. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Medina del Campo, the twelfth of Marche .1523.

MOst renoumed & valiant Prince, my weake­nesse to write vnto your mightinesse, my simplicitie vnto your prudencie, if it shall séeme vnto those that shal heare thereof to be a thing ouer proude, and to such as shal see it, to be ouer presumptuous, lette them lay the fault vpon your honour, which did first write vnto me, and not on me, that do answere with shamefastnesse.

Sir, I will trauell to satisfie your excellencie in all things that ye cōmaund me by your letter, vpon this condition: most humbly beséeching, that you do not so much consider what I doe say, as that which I would say. And for that (to a person of so greate an estate) it is reason to write with grauitie: I will trauell to be measured in the wordes I shall speake, and to be remeasured in the reasons I shall write. The diuine Plato in his Bookes of common wealth did say: That lesse greatnesse is not to be imputed to the honorable, to deale and be conuersant with the weake, than it is to stand and to coun­tenance with the mightie: and the reason that he gaue for the same, is, that the Generouse and magnificent mā, vseth more force in taming his harte to stoupe vnto lowe things, than to take in hand graue, weightie, and high attempts. A mā of an high stature, receiueth more paine in stouping to the ground for a straw, than to stretch out his arme to reach a braunche. By this that I haue said, I would say, that this our hart is so puffed vp and so proude, that to rise vnto more than he may, it is life, and to descend to lesse than he is worth, it is death.

There are many things whiche God woulde not bring to passe by himself alone, to the end they shall not say, that he is a Lord absolute: either wil he bring them to passe by the hāds of the mightie, for that it shal not be sayd, that he taketh help of humaine fauour: and afterwardes he performeth the same [Page 78] by the hand and industrie of some man beaten down of for­tune and forgotten amongst men:God doth ma­ny times bring things to passe ra­ther by the weake, thā by the strong. wherein GOD sheweth his greatnesse, and filleth the same with his might.

The great Iudas Machabeus was lesse in body and much lesse in yeares, than his thrée other brethren, but in the end the good old Mathathias his father, to him onely did cōmend the defence of the Hebrewes: and into his handes did also resigne the armies against the Assyrians.

The least of the children of the great Patriarch Abraham was Isaac, but in him was established y^e right line of Christ, & on him al y^e Iewish people did fixe their eyes. The inheritāce of the house of Isaac came too Esau and not to Iacob: but after the daies of the Father, Iacob did not onely buy the inheritance of his brother Esau, but also did steale the blessing.

Ioseph the sonne of Iacob was the least of his brethren and the last of the eleuen Tribes,Amongst .xij. sonnes, the yongest was most excellent. but in the ende it was he alone that foūd grace with y^e kings of Aegypt, & did deserue to inter­prete their dreames. Of seuen sonnes that Iesse had, Dauid was the least, but in the ende, King Saul was of God repro­ued, and Dauid King of Hebrewes elected. Amongst the mea­ner Prophetes Heliseus was the least, but in the ende, vnto him and vnto none other was giuen a dubled spirite. Of the meaner sorte of the Apostles of Christ was S. Philip, and the meanest Disciple of Paule, was Philemon: but in the end, with them more than with others they did take counsaill, and in great affaires would take aduise.

Sir, it seemes to mée that agréeing with that which I haue saide, your Lordship wold not take counsell with other men, that be learned and wise, but with me that am the simplest of your friends. As your Lordship hath ben so long time in the warres of Italie, it is very seldome that I haue séene you, but much lesse, that I haue eyther spoken or bin conuersant with you, for whiche cause my friendship is to be holden for more sure and lesse suspitious, for that I loue you, not for the re­wardes you haue giuen me, but for the magnificence that I haue séene in you. When one cōmes to seeke to be our frend, [Page 79] maketh much to the matter, to consider the cause that moueth him to séeke the same: for if he be poore we must giue him: if he be rich, we must serue him: if he be fauoured, we must wor­ship him: if he be wilfull, we must faune on him: if he be im­patient, we must support him: if he be vicious, we must dissē ­ble with him: and if he be malicious, we must beware of him.

One of the great trauelles that vnprofitable friends bring with them is, that they come not to seeke vs,To lacke friends is pe­rillous. And some friends be te­dious. to the end to doe what we wil, but to perswade vs to doe what they will. It is great perill to haue enemies, and also it is greate trauell to suffer some kind of friendes: for to giue the whole hart to one is not much, but how much lesse, when amongst many it is reparted? neyther my condition may beare it, either within the greatnes of your estate may it be cōtained, that we should loue after such sort, neither in such maner to behaue oursel­ues: for that there is no loue in this worlde so perfect, as that which holdeth no scruple of intereste.

Your Lordship saith in your letter, that you write not vnto me, for that I am rich or mighty, but because I am learned and vertuous. And you instantly desire me, that I write vnto you with mine owne hand some thing that maybe worthy to be vnderstood, and plesaunt to be read.

To that which you say, that you hold me to be wise, to this I aunswere, as Socrates did, whiche is too wit, that hée knew not any thing more certaine, but in perceyuing that he did know nothing.

Very great was the Philosophie that Socrates did inclose in y^e aunswere: for (as the deuine Plato doth say) the lesser part that we vnderstand not, is much more, than al that we know. In all this world there is not y^e like infamie, as a man to bée imputed ignorant, either the like kind of praise, as to bée called wise: bycause in the wise, death is very euil imployed, and in the foole life is much worse bestowed.

The tirant Epimethes, séeing the Philosoher Demosthenes wéep immeasurable teares for the death of a Philosopher, demaunded for what cause hée wept so muche, since it [Page 80] was a straunge thing for Philosophers to wéepe. To this Demosthenes answered:We ought ra­ther to bewaile the life of the wicked, than the death of the iust. O Epimethes, I do not wéepe bycause the Philosopher died, but for that thou liuest: and if thou kno­west not, I will giue thée to vnderstand, which is: that in the scholes of Athens we do more wéepe, bycause the euill doe liue, than for the death of the good.

Also your honour doth saye, that you doe iudge me, to be a man solitarie and vertuous: might it please the diuine cle­mencie, that in al this, and much more, you speake the truth: bycause, in case for one to be or not to bée vertuous, I dare venter to speake, that how muche sure it is, to be, and not too séeme to be, so daungerous it is to seeme to be, and not to be in déede.

A man is to be knowne, but not to be vnderstood.Man is naturally variable in his appetites, profoūd in hart, mutable in his thoughts, incōstant in his purposes, & indeter­minable in his conclusions: wherof we maye well gather, that man is easie to knowe, and very difficile to vnderstand. Your excellencie giues me more honour, in calling me wise and vertuous: than I giue to intitle you Duke of Sesa, Mar­ques of Bitonto, Prince of Guilache, and aboue all, great cap­taine. For to my vertue and wisedome, warres can giue no impeachment, but your potencie and greatnes is subiect vn­to fortune.

Your honour writeth vnto me, that I certifie you of my opinion, in that the king our master doth commaund now of new, that you passe once more into Italy, by occasion of the battell,The battell of Rauenna for euermore shall be renoumed. that the Frenchmen of late haue ouercome at Rauen­na, whiche in the worldes to come shall be so famous, as it was now bloudie. Vnto this answering your honour, I saye that you haue great reason to doubt: and vpon the same too vse counsell: for if you do not accomplishe what you be com­maunded, the Kyng takes displeasure, and if you doe what they entreat you, you contend with fortune.

Two times your honour hath passed into Italy, and twice woon the kyngdome of Naples, in which two iorneyes, you o­uercame the battell of Garrellano, and the battell of Chirinola, [Page 81] and slewe the best people of the house of Fraunce. And that which is most of all, you brought to passe, that the Spanish nation of all the world were feared, and obtained vnto your selfe renoume of immortall memory.

This being true as it is, it were no wisedome,Lesse in the warres, than many other thing we haue to beleue for­tune. either sure­tie, once more to returne thither to tempt fortune, which with none doth shew hir self so malicious and double, as with such as spend long time in the warres.

Hanniball, a Prince of the Carthaginians, not contented too haue ouercome the Romanes, in those great and famous bat­tailes of Trene, Trasmene, and Canna, but as hée would al­way force and wrestle with fortune, he came to be ouercome of those, which he many times had ouercome. Those that haue to deale with fortune, must entreate hir,With great e­loquence the aucthor decla­reth the na­ture of for­tune. but not force hir, they must heare hir, but not beleue hir, they must hope in hir, but haue no confidence in hir, they must serue hir, but not anger hir, they muste bée conuersant with hir, but not tempt hir. For that fortune is of so euill a condition, that when shee fauneth, she biteth, & when she is angred, she woundeth.

In this iourney that they commaund your honour, neither do I perswade you that you go, either diswade you to tary: Onely I say and affirme, with this third passage into Italy, you returne to put your life in perill, and your fame in bal­lance. In the two first conquests, you obtaine honour with them that be present, fame for the worldes to come, riches for your children, an estate for your successours, reputation amongst straungers, credit amongst your owne, gladnes for your friends, and grief vnto your enemies. Finally, you haue gotten for excellencie, this renoume of great Captaine, not only for these our times, but also for the world to come.

Consider well what you leaue, and what you take in hand: for that it may rather be imputed for rashnes, than for wise­dome, y^t in keping your house where al doth enuie, you should depart where al men should be reuenged.The words of a very friend, without dissi­mulation. You ouercame the Turkes in Paflonia, the Mores in Granada, the Frenchmen in Chirinola, the Picardes in Italy, the Lombardes in Garellano, I [Page 82] holde it to be doubted, that as fortune hath not more nations to giue you to ouercome, she will now leade you, where you shall be ouercome.

The Dukes, the Princes, the Captaines, and vnder Cap­taines, against whom you haue fought, eyther they be deade, or else gone: In suche sort, that nowe against an other kinde of people you must deale and fyght. I sayd it, for that it may chaunce, that fortune which then did fauour you, now maye fauour them.

Men do order warres, but God onely gi­ueth victorie.To accepte warres, to gather people, to order them, and to giue battaile, it belongeth vnto men: but to giue victorie appertaineth only to God. Titus Liuius saith, that many times with greate ignomie the Romaines were ouercome at Furcas Caudinas, in the ende, by the counsell of the Consull Aemilius they changed that Cōsul which had the charge of that army: & where they were before that time ouercome, were frō thence forward conquerours of their enimies. Of whiche we may gather for our purpose, that chaunging the Captaines of the warres, ioyntly therwith fortune doth alter.

To one per­son and one matter, for­tune very sel­dome sheweth fidelitie.In one self kingdome, with one self people, vnder one king, in one ground, and vpon one selfe quarell or demaunde, hope you not, that Fortune will alwayes be faithfull? For in the place where she hath vsed to be moste fauourable, it is hir de­uise, by the same meanes, to shewe hir crueltie.

Rodrigo of Viuero did say vnto me, that your honour was not a little gréeued to sée that your departure was prolonged: and that the Kyng for this present helde it in suspense. And further he sayd vnto me, that you held it for so great displea­sure, that if it were with an other that were your equal, you would demaund it at his hand as an iniurie. To heare this I do maruell, & am not a little, but muche offended: for I holde him not for a good beaste, that when they lade him wil stand stock still, and when they vnlade him, will yerke out behind. Since the soule goeth charged with sinnes, the hearte with thoughts, the spirit with temptations, and the body with tra­uels: it is much conuenient for vs, that if maye not altoge­ther [Page 83] discharge oure selues of this burden at the least, that in some parte we lighten the same.

Your honour is not so yong a man, but that the more part of your life is past: and since the lyfe goeth consuming,What he ou­ght to do that hathe conti­nued long in the warres. and death approching: in my iudgement it should be better coun­sell for you to occupie your selfe in bewayling your old sins, than of newe to shed the bloud of enimies.

It is nowe time, rather to wéepe than to fight: to withdraw youre selfe, than to vse libertie: to make a reckoning with God, more than with the king: to accomplish with the soule, and not with honour: to call vpon God, and not to prouoke with enemies: to distribute your owne, and not to take from others: to conserue peace, and not to inuent warres. And if in this case, your lordship will not beléeue me: from hence for­ward I diuine, that then you shall begin to féele it, when you may not remedie the same.

Your honour deceyueth your self, or else I know not what to say, for that I sée you flée that you should procure, which is quietnesse: and you procure that which you should flée,There is no greater trauel than to be ig­norant of qui­etnesse. which is disquietnesse. For there is no man in this world more vn­fortunate, than he that did neuer experiment what thing it is to be reposed.

Those that haue trauailed throughout diuers landes, and haue had exprience of diuers fortunes, the thing y^t they most desire in this lyfe is, with honoure to sée themselues retur­ned to their countrey. Of which it may be inferred, that it is great temeritie, that you alone wil rather go to die amongst strangers, than to liue with honor amongst your own. Vntil men haue gotten necessarie to eate, yea vntill they haue obtei­ned also some surplusage also to giue, in my iudgement, they ought not much to be blamed, although they wander through out diuers kingdomes, and put themselues in great perilles.Men oughte to trauell vn­till they haue wherwith to defende neces­sitie. For he is as muche worthie reprehension, that doth not pro­cure that whiche is necessarie, as he that ceasseth not to pro­uide that which is superfluous.

After a man hath found that which he hath sought for, and [Page 84] also perchaunce it hath happened him better than he thought of:He is in some hatred with fortune, that is not suffred to repose in his owne house. if after he be retired vnto his house in great quietnesse, will returne to rubbe againe with the world, I dare be bold to speake it, that such a one eyther lacketh wit, or else fortune will be to him vnhappie. The diuine Plato doth saye in his bookes of common wealth, that Fortune is more contrary vnto that man, that he doth not suffer to enioye that which he hath, than vnto him, to whome he denieth what he craueth.

I doe beseche, and also aduise your honour, that after you haue red this sentence, that you turne againe and againe too read the same: for in my iudgement, this sentence of Plato is very true, and very profound, and also vsed of many. For al­most we sée it by dayly experience, that many men can ob­taine fame, honour, quietnesse, riches: and haue not the meane afterward to enioye them.

It is more to know how to enioy a victo­ry than to o­uercome a battell. Iulius Caesar was he that nature endued with most grace [...], and to whom Fortune did giue most victories: and with all this, great Pompey did say of him: that hée had great hardi­nesse to ouercome any battaile, but that afterwardes he did not vnderstand how to enioy the victory. If in the great re­noumed battail of Canas: Hanniball had knowen how to enioy the conquest, he neuer afterwards in the fields of Carthage, by Scipio the Aphrican had bin ouercome.

Your Honour may take it as it pleaseth you, and vnder­stand thereof as it may like you to cōmaund: but in my iudge­ment, he is not so cruell an enemie y^t hurles his darte at me in the warres, as he that comes to driue mée from my house. Cōformable to that which I haue said, I do say: that since we can not flée from cares and trauelles, yet at the least, that we procure to auoid some displeasures thereof. For without comparison, much more be the offences that wée seeke vnto our selues, than be brought vnto vs by our enemies.

Our greatest trauels be of our owne see­king.I will say no more in this letter, but that the Gentleman Rodrigo of Viuero and I, haue talked some things worthie the vnderstanding, and perillous to be writtē. I commend them with trust vnto his noblenes here, & he shal relate them [Page 85] vnto your excellencie there. No more, but our Lord be your protector, and vnto me giue grace to serue him.

From Medi­na del Campo, the .viij. of Ianuarie .1512.

RIght magnificent and my olde frend Valdiuia, your solicitour, gaue mée a Letter, the whiche séemeth verie well to be written with youre owne hande, for that it helde fewe lynes, and many blottes. As God made you a Knight, if he had made you a Scriuener, you woulde haue bene more handsome to colour Cordouan skinnes, than to haue written proces. Sir, alwayes frame, if you shall write any Letter to bée sente, that the lynes bée ryght, the Letters close, the reasons deuided, the letter legible, the paper cleane, the fol­ding equall, the closyng smoothe, and the seale cléere:Both wise­dome and elo­quēce in wri­ting of a let­ter bee disco­uered. for it a lawe of Courte, in that whiche is written, the wysedome is vttered: and in the manner of writyng, good manner is knowne.

In the letter that was giuen mée, were contayned many demaundes vnder verie fewe woordes. And for that with one Turquois wée both will make but one shewe. The case shall be thus: to euery demaunde, I will answere onely one word. First you aske me, wherfore I came to the Courte: to this I answere, that I came not willingly, but constrained of necessitie, for the contention betwixte me and the Churche of Toledo: my comming was expedient to cléere my selfe, and to withdraw the lawe.

Also you demaund of me, what I doe in the Court:In the courte men doe not, but vndoe. wher­vnto I answer, that as my aduersaries do follow me, and my businesse enlarging: I do nothing but vndoe my selfe.

Likewise you will that I write vnto you in what thing I do imploy the time: to this I answere, that according to the fashion of vs Courtiers, beare euil will, blaspheme, loyter, [Page 86] lye, trafike, and cursse: with more truth we may say of time, that we lose it, than employe it. Also you demaund, with whō I am moste conuersant in this Court: to this I answer, that the Court and the people therof, be grapes of so euill a soyle, that we that goe in the same, and from our childhode be brou­ght vp therein, studie not with whome to be conuersant, but in discouering of whom to beware: with muche payne wée haue tyme to defende vs from oure enimies: and will you that wée occupie our selues in séeking newe friendes? In the Courtes of Princes I doe confesse there is a conuersation of persons, but no confederation of will: for here enimitie is holden for naturall, and amitie a straunger. The Court is of such nature, that they that do most visit them, the worse they doe entreate them: and such as speake beste vnto them, the more euill they do wish them.In the courte ther are thin­ges to be wondered, as also to be shunned They which haunt the Courts of Princes, if they will be curious and no fooles, shall fynde many things wherat to wonder: and muche more whereof to beware.

Also you demaunde how the difference betwixt the Admi­rall and the Earle of Myranda standeth: to this I answer, that the Admirall, as one of muche power, and the Earle, as one in much fauor, giues to eche other wherwith to be occupied, and to vs sufficient wherat to murmure.

Sir, you demaund what newes we haue of the Emperors comming: to this I answer, that which we presently vnder­stand,Newes of those dayes from Italy. is, that the Turke is retired, Florence is alyed, y^e Duke of Milane is reduced, the Venetians did amaine, the Pope and Caesar did consecrate, the Estates of Naples be reparted, the Coluna is deade, the Marques of Villa Franca is made Viceroy of Naples, the Prince of Orange is slayn, and vnto the Chan­celer and to the Confessor, to either of them is giuen a Car­dinals hat. Other secret news they write from thence, which be lamentable to such as be therewith touched, and gracious to those that heare therof, which is: many of those that went into Italie with Caesar, are became amorous, and in the artes of loue haue raunged too farre. But sir, in this case I sweare [Page 87] vnto you, as it foundeth in myne eares,In Italy they win not so muche mo­ney as they learne vice. theyr wiues be here sufficientely reuenged of them, for if they leaue there any women greate with childe, also they shall fynde here theyr wyues brought a bed.

You will also that I write vnto you, howe it goeth wyth vs for vittailes this Lent: to this I aunswere, that by diuine grace we haue not wanted this lent fishe to eat, and also fins ynowe to confesse. For the case is come to such dissolution and vnshamfastnesse, that the Gentlemen hold it for an estate and aduancement of honour to eate fleshe in Lent.

Also you demaund if the Court be deare or good cheape, to this I answere, that my steward telleth me, that from Octo­ber vnto Aprill, it hath cost me in wood and cole, an hundreth and fortie Ducates. The cause of this is, that this same towne of Medina as it is rich in faires, so is it poore in moū ­taines or woods, in suche sorte that the count being wel cast, the wood costs as deare as the dressing of the pot. Other thin­ges are in this Court at a good price, or to say it better,Eight condi­tions of the courte, and all verie peril­lous. very good cheap: that is to wit, cruel lies, false news, vnhonest wo­men, fayned friendship, continuall enimities, doubled ma­lice, vaine words, and false hopes, of whiche eight things we haue suche abundance in this Courte, that they may set out bouthes, and proclayme faires.

Sir you demaund of me, if there be good expedition of cau­ses, for that you haue some to be dispatched:In the courte more despited than dispat­ched. to this I doe an­swere, as the things of the court be tedious, displeasant, long deferred, costely, intricate, vnfortunate, desired, besieged, la­mented, and bescratched, I conceyue of mine own part, that if ten be dispatched, nintie be despited.

Also you will mée that I write vnto you if the faire be good thys yeare at Medina. To this I answer, that as I am a cour­tyer and a suter, and haue neyther marchaundise to sell, and muche lesse money wherwith to buy: I knowe not whereof to prayse it, nor do I fynde why to mislyke it. But in passing thorough the faire, I sée in the bouthes of these Burgaleses, so many riche and pleasaunt things, that in beholding them, I [Page 88] tooke great pleasure, and being not able to buy them, I was muche tormented. The Empresse came foorth to sée the faire, and as a Princesse most wise, wold not be accompanied with hir maids of honor, bicause the Gentlewomen that did serue hir, being so poore and so fewe, it coulde be no lesse, but that they would vse their libertie in asking fairings, and the gen­tlemen should thinke it their partes to giue them.

Sir, you demaund if the Courte be in health, or if the pe­stilence be thereaboutes: to this I aunswere, that of agues, tertians, and quartaines, plague sores, and such other infir­mities of the body, we are al in health and verie well, excepte the licenciate Alarcon, that being relating a proces before the counsell, sodainly fell downe dead. And of a trouth, his death was to many in this Court very terrible,Death giueth feare, but not amendment. although I sée none to amende his lyfe by the same. Other infirmities be in this Courte, that bée not corporall, but spirituall, as angers, hatred, quarels, rancours, wrath, and slaughters: the whiche maladies doe consist, not that they go with bodies infected, but in the swelling of the splene, & corruption of the gall.

I haue turned many tymes to reade your letter: and haue not founde any more to aunswere. For of a suretie, it did ra­ther séene an Interrogatorie to take witnesses, than a letter to a frend: I wil say no more, but that I haue escaped in wri­ting vnto you, very wearie, & also angrie not for the answe­ring to the matter, but in construing youre ill fauored letter. Our Lord be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Medina del Campo, the fift of Iune, in the yeare .1532.

MAgnificent sir, & particular beloued, Alonso Espinell gaue me a letter from your worship here in Toledo, the date whereof was the .12. of May, and it is nowe the .16. of Iune: [Page 89] in such sort, y^t your letter neyther may by cōdemned for stale, either for fresh. Many from many partes do write vnto me: sometime their letters be suche, that to read them, it is very tedious, and to aunswere them, no lesse displeasant. To sée a letter ill written, and worse noted, neither is it to be taken in good parte, either may wée leaue to murmur thereat.The plough­man reuewing the straight­nes of his fo­rough, giueth note to the wise to examin their writings The ploughman in plowing, dothe reuew his forough that it bée straight: and shall not a man haue regard to note and write his letter very well? There be many who wil as lightly take the pen in hād to write, as the glasse to drink: and that which is worst of all, they thinke much of themselues to be talking and writing. The which doth well appere in their letters, because the letter is illegible, the paper blotted, the lines crooked, and the reasons doltish. To knowe a man whether he be wise or foolish, is a great part to consider, whether he write vpon aduisement, and speake with iudgement, for a mā must not write what commeth to his memory, but what reason doth direct.

Plutarch doth say of Phalaris the tyrant, that he did neuer write but being alone, withdrawen, and with his own hand: whereof it doth follow, that although, al do blaspheme him for his tyranny, his letters wer praised throughout the world.

Of a trouth, a Gentleman and a kinseman of mine, did write vnto mée a letter of twoo shéetes of paper, and as he wrote so large, and not returning to read what he had writtē, the very same reasons, and the very same woords that he had put in the beginning, he did return to write in the end, wher­at I was so much offended, that I burnt the letter,A letter ought to be pleasant to reade, & di­scret to be no­ted. and made him no aunswere. Doubtles your letters are not of such qua­litie, the whiche to me be very pleasant to reade, and not te­dious to aunswere, bycause in iestes they are very pleasant, and in earnest, very wise.

Sir you say, that in reading the moralles of saint Gregory, you did note, and also did meruaile to sée, that the deuill did aske licence of God to do hurt vnto holy Iob, & it was graun­ted him: and the Apostle S. Paule did pray vnto God to take [Page 90] away the temptation of the flesh, and it was denied him. In such wise, that God heard the Deuill, and did not condiscend vnto the prayer of saint Paule. Maruell ye not sir of this: for the thinges that the diuine prouidence do bring to passe be so iust, and done for so iust causes: that although wée maye not reach them: they want not therefore reason, why they should not be done. If wée déepely consider what God did with the Apostle, wée shall finde, that it was more that God gaue him, than the Apostle did craue.God dothe more for vs in giuīg vs grace than to take away tempta­tions. Bycause, hée desired that the temptation of the flesh might be taken away: and God gaue him grace to ouercome it. What iniurie doth the Prince to the Captaine, that sendes him a warfare, if hée makes him sure to haue the victory? If absolutely God should haue taken away the temptation of the flesh, from the Apostle saint Paul: neither should there haue remayned occasiō to deserue, either should haue béen giuen grace to ouercome. For hée is more supported of God, to whom hée giueth helpe to conquere, than to him, that hée excuseth to fight. Let vs not despaire, afflict our selues, or bée ouer thoughtfull, and much lesse complayne and murmur of God: if forthwith hée giue not that whiche wée desire. For hée doth it not, with disfauour in that hée will not heare vs,God doth know what he giueth vs, but we know not what to craue. but bycause he wil change it into a better cause. Hée knoweth what hée doth, and wée vnderstand it not: hée knoweth what hée doth denie, but wée not what wée aske: hée measureth all thinges with reason, and wée but with ape­tite: hée dooth denie that is hurtfull vnto vs, and graunteth that which is profitable. Finally I doo say, that he doth know: how hée are to bée handled: and therfore, wée ought of him only to depend. The Apostle had séene the inuisible and diuine secrets, whiche of his forefathers had béen much desired but neuer séene: and bycause, of that so high reuelation, hée should not boast or grow proud,To haue the occasion of sinne taken a­waye, is no small benefite of God. the Lord would not take away the concupiscence of the fleshe. In suche wise, that in recompence of not condescending to his desire, hée did take awaye the oc­casion to sinne, and gaue him grace to ouercome. God vsed more pitie with saint Paule, in that hée would not heare him: [Page 91] than if hée had heard him. For if hée should haue taken awaye the concupiscence of the flesh, it might haue come to passe that as much as hée had diminished in temptation,To be with­out temptatiō is no good signe. hée might haue increased in pride. When the Lord doth permit that one is tempted, it doth not followe therfore, that hée is of God ab­horred: for my parte, I holde it rather a signe, that of God, hée is elect. For as saint Gregory sayth, there is not a greater temptation, than not to be tempted. Christ hath left the way to heauen marked: and the markes of this voiage be tribu­lations, aduersities, mishappes, and infirmities. In such wise, that it is no other thing to be remembred of God: but that in this world he be permitted to be tempted. Let it be holden for certaine, that they of him are lost, whiche in this world, from aduersities be priuiledged. For the enemy of mankind, (whiche is the deuill) vnto all those that he hath registred for his owne, hée doth trauell, that they may liue in great wel­fare and ease. Sir, also you saye,The deuil pro­cureth great welfare vnto his dearlings. that you doe much maruail to sée the boldnesse that the Deuill had in asking licence of God, to hurt holy Iob: and to sée the liberalitie that God vsed in giuing it. In such sort, that he denied S. Paule, that he de­sired, and graunted the Deuill, that whiche hee craued. Sir, although you haue no reason, yet haue you some occasion to demaund that whiche you aske: for of a suretie, it as an hard thing to consent that our enemy do hurt vnto our friend. That whiche I dare speake in this case, is that it is lesse, pernicious, and of more worthinesse to suffer ill, than to haue authoritie to do euill. And after this maner wée haue more enuie of holy Iob, in that hée suffred, than vnto the de­uill, for that whiche he did. It ought to be farre distant from the diuine will, that he that hath to giue grace to serue him, should giue licence to offend. It is a great euill for a man to be euill: but it is much worse to make him euil, which is good. Bycause, our owne proper sinnes God doth well sée, they procéede of weakenesse: but the persecuting of the good, al­wayes groweth of malice. If men do aske of God vppon their knées, that hée giue grace to serue him, they ought to aske [Page 92] with teares that he do not giue them place, to offend him. For in the ende,Notable examples against such as do persecute. if I do not good workes I shall haue no reward: but if I doe euill, for the same I shall haue paynes. By Caine, Abell was slaine: by Esau, Iacob was persecuted: by Saule, Da­uid was banished: by Nabugodonoser, Ierusalem was burned: by Achab, Micheas was imprisoned: by Zedechias, Esaias was sawen: and by the Diuell, holy Iob was afflicted. Man by the multitude of his sinnes, doth deserue to be an offence, and a scourge of the good. Much did the Diuell offend Iob, in temp­ting him: but much more did holy Iob deserue in suffering that temptation. Bycause in the persecutions of the iust, God doth more behold the pacience of him that suffreth, than he doth the malice of him that doth persecute.

Also you will, that I write vnto you, what it was I prea­ched this other day vnto the Emperour, which is to wit, that the Princes which tyrānously gouerne their common weal­thes, haue more cause to feare good men, than those that be euill. Sir, that whiche I sayde in this case was, that the ty­rants whiche in the common wealthes haue offices of most preheminence, haue much more respect to the bountie of the good,Very great bee the priui­leges of the vertuous. than to the conspiracies of the euill. For that amongst many other thinges, this priuilege is cōtayned in vertue: that is to vnderstand: amongst the least inferiors it giueth dismay: with the equall, it moueth enuie: and to the great & mightie, it yeldeth feare. The Siracusan Dionisius, had more feare of the diuine Plato which was in Grecia, than of al the enemies he had neare him in Cicilia. Kyng Saule had more respect to the deseruings of Dauid, than to the armies of the Philistines. The proud Aman, He incurreth great perils that cōtendeth with the ver­tuous. that was so priuate with Kyng Assuerus, was more grieued with the good Mardocheus, that he held him in no reuerence, than with all the rest of the kyngdome. Herod Escalonite, did hold in more reuerēce, and also did more feare only Iohn Baptist, than all the kingdome of Iudea. Fi­nally, I do say and affirme, that none may with a troth say or affirme that he hathe an enemie, but when he hath some good man to his enemie. Bycause the euil man doth hurt with [Page 93] his knife, but the good, doth hurt with his credit. Sir, alwaies haue regard, not to striue or contend with a man that natu­rally is good, and hath credite in the common wealth with all men. For, he shall do you more hurt with his word, than you shall offend him with a blowe of a launce.

Sir as touching the Commendathor, Iohn of Towres, that would not the gouernment this yéere,The certaine before the doubtfull is to be preferted. which the gouernours had giuen him, saying: that he deserued better, and that the king when he shall come from Flaunders will giue him more: to this I aunswere, that it seemeth to me lacke of wit, and also a surplusage of foolishnesse, to leaue a reward certaine, for a hope doubtfull.

Sir, also you coniure me that I write vnto you, what I thought of the Lorde President, Sir Antony de Roias, when I talked with him in your businesse: to this I aunswere, that hée séemeth to mée sharpe in his aunsweres, and wise in his dealings. I do not like well with many of this Court,A Kintall is a hundreth waight. that depraue him for his speache, and do not afterwards consider of his doings, as it is true, so likewise many of our fréends giue vs wordes by Kintals, but workes by the ounce.

Also you will mée that I write vnto you what I iudge of the Embassadour of Venize, for that I am conuersant with him, and hée confesseth himself with me. Sir, I can tell you, that hée is in science learned, in his life reformed, and in con­science much considerate. And it may bée sayde by him, thatwhich Plato saide by Phocion his friend: he did more loue to bée, than séeme to be vertuous. In the other secrete and par­ticular businesse, that Alonso Espinell commoned with mée off, in your behalf,It is better to be, than to seeme to bee vertuouse. with the same faith that your worship sent me the message: receyue yée also the aunswere.

From Toledo the .xxx. of Iune, in the yeare of our Lord. 1525.

REuerend and welbeloued Father, the letter that your fatherhod made in Salamanca, I haue receiued héere in Soria: the which forth­with I read, and afterwardes many times did turne to reade: For that I receyued very great consolatiō in remembring my self from whom it came,The conditiōs of a friends letter. and in noting what it contained. In the let­ter of a very friend, the spirits do reioyce, the eyes delight, the hart is recreated, friendeship confirmed, and the vnderstan­ding is comforted. For Plutarch sayth in the book of the fortune of Alexander: that the great Alexander did neuer reade the let­ters whiche tyrantes did send him, eyther did teare the let­ters that Philosophers did write vnto him. All the letters, that Marcus Antonius did write vnto Cleopatra, and all the letters that Cleopatra did write vnto Marcus Antonius, were found by the Emperoure Augustus very well laide vp, after the death of Marcus Antonius. The letters that Cicero did write to Publius Lentulus, to Atticus, to Rufus, to Fabarius, and to Dru­sius, which were his familiar frends, were all found in their keping, and not in his originall.

As co [...]cerning that your fatherhode wryteth, and by this letter comaund me to write: it may be very well answered: as saint Agneda did answer the virgin Lucie, which is to wete, Quid a me petis Lucia Virgo? nam ipsa poteris praestare continuò matri tuae. In this case, and in this demaund, I can not tell whe­ther of vs deserueth more paine, your fatherhode, for temp­ting my patience, or I, in aduenturning my selfe to publishe my ignorance. For hée is not worthy lesse fault that sinneth, than hée that is the cause of sinne. Si nequeo ascendere in montem cum Loth: ad minus saluabor in Segor. I would say, that if your fatherhode, bée not satisfied with that whiche I shall aun­swere, it maye please you to bée satisfied with that I would [Page 95] aunswere. For as Plato sayd, hée that doth trauel not to erre, misseth very narowly.

You will that I write vnto you, what I iudge, and how I vnderstand that text, whiche is written in holy scripture, 1. Regum cap. xvj. where it is said, speaking of King Saul and of his infirmitie: Spiritus Domini malus arripiebat Saulem. A text of scrip­ture expoun­ded. The fyrst King of Israell was named Saul, he was chosen of the Tribe of Beniamin, which was the last Tribe of all y^e Tribes: and in the second yeare of his raigne, an euill spirit sent of God did vex him, whiche would not come out of him, neyther leaue to torment him, vntill the good King Dauid came before him, to play and to sing. But now the dout is, how it may be vnderstoode, and agrée withall, that the scripture should say, the euill spirit of the Lord did take Saul: if the spirit were of the Lord, how was he euell? and if he were euill, how was he of the Lord? it séemeth an hard thing, and not intelligible, to say of the one part, that that spirit which held Saul, was of the Lord: and of the other part, to say that the spirit was euil. But if the spirite were of the Lord how was he then euil? and if he were euill, how was he of the Lord? For the vnder­standing hereof, it is to be noted, how it is written in the 1. Regum cap. xxvj. that Dauid being compassed with the armie of King Saul, who sléeping on a night in his tent, Dauid did passe thorough the middes of his campe, and toke from the Kinges beds head, the launce that he fought withall, and a cruse of water, wherein he vsed to drink: and in this passage, he was neither séen of the watch, nor perceiued of the scout. And why? Quia sopor Domini irruit super eos: to saye, as the Scripture saith, that the sléepe of the Lord fell vppon them, is most true: but to say, that God doth sléepe, and hath néede of sléepe, is a great mockery. For, as the Psalmist doth saye, Ecce non dormitabit neque dormiet qui custodit Israel. Whē the scrip­ture doth say: Quòd sopor Domini irruit super eos: that God had sent a dead sléepe vpon them: it is to be vnderstoode: non quòd ipse dominus dormiret: Sed quia eius nutu infusus esset: ne quisquam presentiam Dauid sentiret. The diuine prouidence would cast a [Page 96] sléepe vpon King Saul, and vpon his watch, and vpon those of his Campe: not for their recreation, but for the safe kéeping of Dauid: in such wise, that in God, his sléepe and his proui­dence is one self thing: the Lord is so zelouse of his elect, and so vigilant to preserue them, that he doth not only giue them grace to performe good purposes, but also doth direct them al­waies by good meanes: in suche wise, that although hée doth permit them to trauaile, he doth not consent that they perish.

But comming to the purpose, that after the maner, that the Scripture is to be vnderstood, Sopor Domini irruit super eos: after the same manner, is vnderstand, Spiritus Domini malus arripiebat Saulem. And for farther declaration of this I say: Quod si Diabolus tentationem iustis semper inferre cupiat: tamen si à Domino potestatem, non accepit: nullatenus adipisci potest, quod appe­tit. The spirite that did tempt and torment King Saul: for this cause he is called an euill spirite: for that the will of the Deuill in tempting vs, is euill. And for this purpose, he is named the spirite of the Lorde: for that the power which the Lord doth giue him to tempt vs, is good. When God dothe giue licence to any Diuell, that he go to vexe and disquiet a­ny iust man: it is not Gods intention, that he tempt him, but to exercise him: bicause vertue is of such qualitie, that it grow­eth mortified, when it is not exercised with trauailes. The wheat whiche is not turned, is eaten with wiuels. The gar­ment that is not worne,Vertue & the vertues by ex­ercise be con­serued. is eaten with mothes: the timber that is not seasoned, is spoiled with chest lockes: the frō that is not wrought, doth consume with ruste: bread long kept gro­weth finnowed.God hath more regarde vnto vs than we our selues. By this that I haue saide, I would say, that there is not any thing that turneth vs to more weakenesse & negligence: than to be a certaine time without temptations. Much more care hath God of vs, than we of our selues: for in the end, as our worthinesse is litle, and but to smal purpose, if we do quaile, he doth comfort vs: if we lie downe to sleepe, he waketh vs: if we be wearied, he helpeth vs: if we grow fear­ful, he doth encorage vs: if we grow negligent, he doth intice vs. Finally I say, that leauing our selues vnto our owne [Page 97] power, wée permit our selues to fall, and he alone giues the hand to lift vs vp.

Also holy Iob was tempted of the euill spirit of the Lord, not because there was any notable fault in the man: but for that ther raigned in the Diuell enuie and malice. For cursed sathan had not enuie of the great goods that Iob had, but of the excellent life that he led. At the instant that one is euill, he doth desire that all be euill: if he bée sclaundered, that all be defamed: in such wise, that ther is not so perillous an enuie, as that whiche euill men haue of those whiche be good and vertuous: If one be good and ritch, and liue by one that is euill and malicious. First, he that is euill, dooth trauell to take away the credit the good man hath, before he vseth force to spoile him of his goodes.

Abrabam was tempted when it was commaunded that his onely sonne shoulde be sacrifized. Tobie was tempted when he lost his sight. The holy Iob was tempted, when they killed his children, tooke his goods, and filled him with the mangie: in which temptatiōs those holy men suffered much;Not the suf­fring but the paciēce wher­with we suf­fer, God re­gardeth. and also loste much: but at the time of repayment he did not giue them reward according to the goods they lost, but accor­ding to the patience they vsed. Since it is certain that all passions or troubles, eyther God doth send them, or else do come by the hand of God, it is reason that we take them as sent by the hand of God, who is so iust in that he commaun­deth, and so limited, in that hée permitteth,The tēptation of the Deuill is limited. that he doth neuer suffer vs to be tempted aboue our strength. With men that be of a good life, and doe kepe rekening with their conscience: the licence whiche God giueth to the Diuill to tempte them, is surely limited, and the patience that hee giueth them, is very bountifull, & de hoc bactenus sufficit.

The Controler Hinestrosa came from the Court this way to sée me, whiche came in suche distresse, for that he had gone thither, he him repented, and for that hée had staied, hée was despited, and for that whiche had happened, he was abhorred: in suche sorte, that to heare him report his great trauelles, [Page 98] moued me to weigh my owne as light. Men in sadnes ought not to séeke comfort of those that be merie, but of others that are sorrowfull and more confounded than them selues. For if they so doe, of a troth, they shal find that it is very little they suffer, in respecte of that whiche others endure. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Sotia the 4. of March. 1518.

RIght magnificent & my singular good Lord, Garcy Rodrygues seruant and solicitor vnto your Lordshippe, gaue me a letter of yours made the seuēth of this present in Velez el Rubio, which came with more swiftnes, and also more fresh thā the Samons they bring from Bayon. Your honour wri­teth vnto me, that I shoulde certifie you what newes, and what worlde runneth: vnto whiche, I dare aunswere your Lordship, that in this Court, none run­neth, but they goe all bechafed. It is an auncient pestilence in the courtes of Princes: that they call suche men as do not aunswere theim: they loue where they be hated: they fol­low suche as know them not: they seeke those that flie them: they serue those that pay them not: they hope for that which is not giuen them: and they procure that which they can not obtaine. Suche and so great trauelles as these are, although we performe with our bodie that suffereth, we can not bring to passe with the heart to dissemble them: if the body suffer paynes, and the heart bée compassed with anguish, sooner dothe the body cease to complain, than the hart to sighe. Plutarche saithe of Aeschines the Philosopher, that being as he was alway sick, did neuer complaine of the Splene that did gréeue him: and on the other parte, hée did muche lament of [Page 99] any sorow that hapned vnto him. As a wise man it séemethe your Honor to bée aduised in kéeping your house, ouerseeing your landes, enioying your goods, vnderstanding how to liue, and howe to discharge your conscience. In suche wise, that of affaires in court, ye delight to heare, & flie to sée them. For of a troth, as all things that doe passe here are fayned, vayne, voide, inconstant, and daungerous: it is a pastime to vnder­stand them, and a great despite to behold them.

Your Lordship will that I write vnto you, whether I bée present at any time when the Emperesse doth eate, and what things she doth most vse to feed on. Now in winter (as at this present) few Prelates being at Court, I (my Lord) am pre­sent euery day at dinner and supper, not to sée, but to blesse the table. And I can tell your Lordship, that if I blesse hir, I cursse my self: bicause at the houre that I departe the Court to go to dinner, it is then time (very neare) to goe to bed. There is much lesse trauell in seruing of God, than the kyng.It is lesse tra­uel to serue God, than the world. For the king doth not accept seruice, but when it liketh him: but our God, dothe not only accept when hée will, but also when we thinke good. To that you demaund, what and how the Empresse doth eate: I can shew your Lordship, that shée eateth that whiche she eateth cold, and in the cold, alone, with silence, and that all stand beholding. If I be not deceiued, these bée fiue such condicions, that onely one were suffcient to giue me a very euill repast. Sir it is now winter, the which naturally is a time very heauie, cold, melancholike, and all men delite to eate their meate by the fire, warme, accompa­nied, and talking, and that none stand to behold, for that in time of reioycing, when a man neither eateth or serueth, but standeth with silence musing with him selfe: I dare saye, of such a one, y^t he doth not behold vs, but rather watch vs. To eat in y^e winter any cold meat, is no smal wāt of good diet, for meats that are cold, do hurt the stomacke, & giue no apetite. A man to eat alone is likwise great solitarnesse, & in y^e ende,Good compa­ny is more pleasant then great fare. the gentleman doth not so much delite in the meate he eateth, as in y^e mirth he maketh with y^e company he hath at his table. [Page 100] For a man to eate without communication and warmthe: I would say, the one proceded of filthinesse, the other of wret­chednesse. Princes bée not bound to bée subiect to these rules: bycause they are forced to vse great seueritie in their life, and great authoritie at their meat. My Lord, be it as be may: and let hir Maiestie eate, as shall please hir to commaund: for in the end I do more repine at hir pacience, than enuie the meat she eateth. The meates y^t are serued at hir table are many: and those that shee féedeth on, bee very few, (for if hir Phi­siognomie do not deceiue me,) the Empresse is of a very good condition, and of a weake complexion. The most that shée eateth of, is winter Mellons, poudred Beefe, fed Pigions, minst Bacon, great Geese, and Capons rosted: in suche wise, that shée eateth that others do loth: and shée abhorreth that, for whiche men of the countrey do sighe. They set before hir, Pecocke, Partridge, Capōs, franked Fesant, Manger blāck, Pasties, Tarts, and other variable kind of gluttonies: of all whiche, shée not only pretendeth a contempt to eate, but also, sheweth a lothsomnesse to behold. In such wise, that the contētation doth not cōsist in the much or little that we haue, but only in that, wherunto we be inclined. In all her dinner, shée drinketh but once, and that is not pure wine, but water mixed with wine: in suche wise, that with hir sippets none may satisfie his apetite, and much lesse kill his thirst. Shée is serued after the maner of Portingall, which is to wit: there is placed at the table thrée Dames vppon their knées, the one to carue, the other twaine to serue, in such sort, that the meate is braught by gentlemen, and serued with Ladies. All the other Dames be there present, standing vpright, not in silence, but talking, not alone, but accompanies: so that the thrée Ladies giue the Empresse to eate, and the others yéeld their seruaunts sufficient matter both to speake and thinke. Authorized and pleasant is the maner of Portingall, yet truly, notwithstanding that sometimes the Dames do laugh so loude, and the gallants do speake so high, that they lose their grauitie, and also are yrksome to hir Maiestie.

[Page 101]To that whiche your Lordship doth demaunde, that whe­ther bée more, the Dames that be sued vnto, or the gallants that do serue them? to this I aunswere: that Esayas did saye, Apprehendent septem malieres virum vnum. Manye sonnes of Knights and Gentlemen, do trauel to sée the Dames, to talke with them, and to serue them: but at the tyme of maryage, none doth marrie with them. In such maner that Iustice iu­stice, but not at home.

To that whiche you demaund, who gaue the Hat to the Lorde Cardinall: it was Sir Frauncis of Mendoza, Bi­shop of Samora. And if my diuination deceiueth me not, the Lord Bishop, had rather haue ben vppon his knées to re­ceiue the same, than sitting to giue it. They presented the Hat in saint Antonies Church: and at the instāt it was giuen him, there fell so great tempest of wind and raine,The old Ro­manes were superstitious. that if as he was a Christian, hée had bene a Romane, either he would not haue receiued it, or els haue defered it vntill another daye. My Lord it is not to be holden for a iest, that at the very pre­sent, the wind and the raine was so cruell and vehement, and the water so great, that when the Cardinall went thence made Cardinall, he did more profite him selfe of the Hat he brought, than of the Hat whiche he receiued. The banquet made by the Cardinall, was magnificent in expences and of long continuance, for that we began to eat at one, and made an end at foure. As concerning drinking, there were found so good wines, and also so good drinkers, that Toro, S. Martin, Places where the good wine of Spaine doth grow. Madrigall, and Arenas, did cause that some did stauke with vnstedy steppes.

As concerning my lodging, your Lordshippe ought not to aske me, if I haue good lodging, but if I haue any lodging. For I saye many times vnto Iohn de Aiala the harbenger, that of God wée obtain that wee desire with praiers: and of him wée can not get a lodging, no not with teares. On a sun­day in Aduent, preaching in the Chappell vnto hir Maiestie, I sayd, that saint Iohn Baptist went to dwell in the desert, not onely to auoyd sin, but also for that he woulde not haue to [Page 102] doe with herbingers: and your Lordship do demaund if there be much people at the Court: to my iudgement ther are few men & many women: for that from Auila there came inowe to the Court, and here in Medina was very many, & beside these, Toro, Zamora, Salamanca, & Olmedo, haue sent hither o­ther aduentures, in suche fort, that if in Palace there be for euery galant seuen dames, there is in Courte for euery cour­tyer seuen Courtizanes. For that Caesar is in Flanders, y^e win­ter harde, and the yeare déere also, there is none at the court that willingly would be there, but for necessitie.

Further, your Lordship will that I write vnto you what I thinke of the duke of Veiar, which gathered so great treasure in hys lyfe, that at his death he left foure hundreth thousand Ducates. This is a matter perillous to write, and odious to heare: but in the ende (my iudgemente is) that he wente to séeke care for himselfe, enuie for his neyghboures, spurres for his enimies,Terrible no­tes for the rich nigard. a praie for théeues, trauaile for his person, anguishe for his spirite, scruple for his conscience, perill for his soule, lawe for his children, and cursses for his heyres. Great contention and debate goeth betwixt the olde duchesse and the yong Duke, and the Erle of Miranda, and others his kinsfolke and heyres, vpon the inheritaunce of his good, and the succession of his house: in such wise, that there be many that eft procure to inherit his money, and none that takes the charge of his discharge. In the yeare. 1523. I béeing sicke in Burgos, The deed do here leaue their moneye, and carie a­waye theyr sinnes, the Duke came to sée mée, and demanded who might properly be called couetous, for y^e he had asked many, & none had answered vnto his minde: and that which I answered at the sodeyn, were these words: The man y^e sitteth in y^e smoke when he may warme himself by a faire fire: that may drinke good wyne, and drinketh euill: that may haue a good garment and goeth hard and ragged: and that will lyue poorely to die riche:Horrible to liue poorely, to die in great wealth. he alone and no other wée maye name couetous and wretched. And sayde further: Beléeue mée (my Lord Duke) that I holde hym a more woorthie man that dothe venter to parte his riches, than him that gathereth them together: [Page 103] bicause, for a man to be riche it is sufficient that he be dili­gent, but to employ his greate riches, he muste be a Gentle­man, and noble minded. To that your Lordship doth demaūd my opinion of this towne of Medina, I can saye vnto youre honour (to my iudgement) that it hath neyther grounde nor heauen, for the heauens are always couered with Clowdes, and the grounde with dirt: in suche wise, that if the neigh­bourhed do call it Medina of the field, we Courtiers doe terme it Medina of the dirt. It hathe a riuer that is called Sapardiell, which is so déepe and daungerous, that géese in sommer go o­uer drye footed: and as it is a riuer narrow and muddy: it doth prouide vs many éeles: and dothe couer vs with many Clowdes. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

Frō Medina del campo, the xviij. of Iuly in the yeare. 1532.

MAgnificent and most reuerend Lorde and regall iudge, I wish the new pro­uision that his maiestie hath bestowed vpon your honour for the President­ship of this royal audience of Granado, may be fortunate. I can shewe youre lordship, that in this countrey you are more knowen by your fame, than by your persō. Wherfore (as you know) you haue to trauaile that your life may be conformable vnto your fame, also you haue to consider that if you come to iudge, you shall also: be iudged, not of few, but of many: not of lear­ning but of custome: not of goods, but of fame: not only in pub­lique, but also in secret: not of waightie causes, but also of very small matters. One of the greatest trauayls that Presidents haue, and suche as gouerne common wealthes, is, that they doe not onely iudge what they doe, but also what they [Page 104] thinke: not only the things that they doe in earnest, but also what they commit in iest: in such sort that all things whiche they doe not with seueritie, they iudge it for lightnesse. Plu­tarke sayth in his politikes, that the Athenians did note in Si­monides, that he spake loude. The Thebanes accused Parnicu­lus that he spet much. The Lacedemonians sayd, that Licurgus went stouping The Romains blamed Scipio, that hée slepte snorting. The Vticenses defamed the good Cato, that he did eat with both his chéekes. The enimies of Pompey murmured that he scratched with one finger. The Carthaginiās reproued their Hanniball, for that he went lose with his garments: and the Sillanos charged Iulius Caesar, that he went euill girt. Be­hold sir, how far the malice of man doth extend, and in what things the ydle (in the common wealth) do occupie themsel­ues: to witte, that they prayse not, what the noble myn­ded doe take in hande as valiaunt men, but condemne that whiche they doe of negligence.

With reason they mighte haue praysed Simonides: that o­uercame the battaile of Marathone: Parniculus that reskued Thebes: Licurgus, that reformed his kingdom: Scipio that sub­dued Carthage: Cato, that susteined Rome: Pompeius, that aug­mented the Empire. Hanniball: that was of a mynd immor­tall: and Iulius Caesar, that thought it little to bée Lord of the world. Wherof we may gather, that the people of a base soile do not speake of their betters and of the mightie: accordyng as reason directeth, but agréeable to that whiche enuie dothe persuade them. Plinie sayeth that the Romanes, onely in the prouince of Vetica, held fiue iurisdictions conuented: whiche is, that of Gades, Hispalis, Emeritans, Astaginensis, Cordubensis: they called Andelozia, the Prouince of Vetica: they named the Chauncellorships, iurisdictions conuented: Gades, was Calis: Hispalis, was Seuill: Cordubensis, Corduua: Meritensis, Merida: Astaginensis, Ecija. Of these fiue Chauncelorships, the first and the greatest was that of Calis: for there was resident the Counsell of the Prouince: and in Merida were the men of warre. I haue broughte all these antiquities vnto youre [Page 105] Lordships memorie, therby to be aduertised and also to con­sider: as there were then many presidents appoynted to go­uerne, ther were many of whom also to murmur: but now you being alone, y^e charge of murmuration wil light vpō you onely. The people of this countrey, are not lyke the people of your countrey: for here they be sharpe, suttle, and greate dissemblers: therefore I aduise and forewarne you, that in hearing them you vse leysure: and in your answers resoluti­on. As you shall perceiue more hereafter,Strange cu­stomes in a cōmon welth are perillous. they will applie more vnderstādings to one word, than ther be gloses vpō the Bible. Conserue thē in their auncient customs: care not to at­tempt or bring in any new things: for nouelties doe always bring displeasures to those that deale therin: and amongst the people, doth engēder vprores or offences. Stand always vp­on good aduisement: & walk always vpon consideration: for in the houses of iudges, as many enter to view, as to dispatch matters. The house of Audience is verie moyst, old, narowe, little, displeasant & darke; in such sorte, that it is rather to bée puld down than to dwel in: it wil greue your honor to sée it, & offend you to inhabite the same, but in the ende, you haue to comfort your selfe, that your comming thither is not to dwel, but to amende your estate. My Lorde president your prede­cessor, entred the same, Bishop of Malorca, & came frō thence, made bishop of Auila. And so may it please the Lord, as yée now come Bishop of Tui, ye shall returne Archbishop of Ce­uill: for it is nowe an auncient custome, that the presidentes be neuer remoued, vntill their estate be amended. Your Lord­ship may bold it for most certain, that the office of president is not a little honourable, but ioyntly therwith, verie tedious and burdensome. For that no man hath compassion of his tra­uell, & all (if he take ease,) blaspheme him. In this president­ship there is other trauell, which is, your friends haue licence to sée you, and to speake vnto you, but your Lordship hathe not libertie, to vse conference with them: for if you talk with any in particular, and admitte him to youre secrete affaires: foorthwith they will reporte thorowe the audience, and also [Page 106] will talke in place, that you haue more abilitie to bée com­maunded, than capacitie to commaund. In hard, graue, and waightie matters, it is not repugnant to wisedome, neither yet to conscience, for a Iudge to confer with his friendes, vp­pon this condicion, that they be neither affected or furious, for there doth wit most bend, where will hath most force. In such wise, ye ought to be conuersant, confer, talke, and also cōsult with your familiar friends, that all men may thinke of you, that they do coūsell, but not cōmaund you. Such as come to bée suters vnto you, are not to be answered sharply or with rigor, a milde aunswere neuer offendeth: for if they go not with hope to bée despatched, it were not iust they shoulde de­part complayning of their aunswere. In the wordes, in the curtesies, and in the aunsweres, that you shall vse, deale with euery one according as your Lordship shall perceiue the con­dicion of his estate to require: for otherwise, some will prayse you for iust, and other some note you of euill nurture. Your Lordship also hath to trauel in the commō wealth, to appeare milde, pitifull, louing, and well wishing: in suche sort, that you rather seeke to be praised for the bountie ye vse, than for the authoritie you haue. Consent not to be furious, angry, cruell, & absolute, for that Iudges be bound to suffer infinite iniuries, and haue no licence to reuenge onely one. When at any time you shal fele occasion to be angrie, troubled, and also iniuried, breake not forth into ire, nor speake any euil word. For if the man that doth iniury vs, be discrete, we take no small reuenge,Notable cōdi­ciōs of a good President. if to his wordes wée giue no aunswere. The good President, ought to haue rectitude in iudgement, puritie of life, quicknesse in dispatch, pacience in hys affayres, and prudence in his gouernaunce. The whiche fiue vertues, he in them selues so connexed, and in him so necessary, that he shall not be so much profited by the foure that he hathe, as he shall receiue offence by the one that he lacketh. Of my selfe I giue your Lordship to vnderstād, that two yeres since I haue [...]in at the law in this audience, against the Church of Tole­do, for the Abbay of Basa, in whiche, I haue sentence in my [Page 107] fauour, Per omnia benedictus Deus. My Lord, at this present, we be in degrée of a reuew, and for that the matter dependeth in such estate, and maye not farther procede without the Pre­sident, Nil iam superest, nisi quod descendas, & ponas manum super eam. In that your Lordship is President and I a suter, this letter suffreth not offers in words, nor permitteth much lesse seruice in workes. Ne imponamus crimen gloriae vestrae. Come your Lordship when you will with gladnes, and enter this audience in an happie houre, that as you know, positus es in ruinam, & in resurrectionem multorium. Of lawiers and officers olde and new, you shall find a sacred College, dignum profectò tali viro. No more, but our Lord bée your protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Granado the 12. of May. 1531.

MOst reuerēd and sufficient religious father, Frater Antonius de Gueuara, predicator & Chro­nista Caesaris: suo precordiali patri guardiano, cum­plu: sal. plu. mittit. Quamuis hactenus non scripsi paternitati tuae, non tunc minus tibi deditus & affe­ctus fui. Causam autem meae taciturnitatis, tua sin­gularis, prudentia per sese optime nouit. Literas tuas accepimus: quae nobis incunditati, & volup [...]ati: fuerunt. Nec enim est alius quisquam bomimum, cuius scripta libentius quàm tua legamus: est enim in eis, & dicendi ornatus, & debiti salis condimentum. Gaudemus te bene valere: vtinā & semper tibi sit. Et de bis hactenus: In the general chapter I preached, all our order being present, & amōgst other authori­ties of holy Scripture, I expounded that text of the Psalmist, whiche saieth, descēdant in infernū viuētes. The expositiō wherof your reuerence desireth me to send written as it was prea­ched, for that as then you heard it not. The preacher that giues in writing what hée hath fayd in the pulpit, bindes him selfe to lose his credit. For in the mouth of a great preacher, [Page 108] it is more to sée the spirit whiche he giueth to the words he speaketh, than to all that he can write vnto vs. Aeschines the Philosopher, being banished by the Athenians to the Rodes, when vppon a certaine daye hée related the Oration that Demosthenes had made and written against him, hée sayd vnto them: if ye had séene that beast Demosthenes blason his words, and the spirite he had in speaking of them. Amongst the thirtie most famous tyrants that did destroy the common wealth of Athenes, Pifistrato was one, in whose time the Phi­losopher Damonidas did florish: A man out of doubt of a re­formed life, and must eloquent in his speech. Of this Philo­sopher Damonidas, Pifistraro the tyrant, on a daye sayd vnto the Senate of Athens: All maner of men of Athe [...]s, and of Greece, may fréely come and speak with me in their affaires, and say what appertaineth, except the Philosopher Damoni­das, which may write vnto me, but not come and talke with me,The wordes of the eloquēt containe great efficacie. for he holdeth suche efficacie in his wordes, that he per­swadeth to what hee will. Kyng Philip (Father to Alexander the great, besieging a certaine citie in Grecia,) came to parlée with those in the Citie, that if they would suffer the Philo­sopher Theomastes to enter, and to speake with them certaine words, he would depart and rayse his siege: the Philosopher Theomastes had great eloquence in the words he did speake, and very great perswasion in things he would bring to passe, and so it chaunced there,A straunge example of an Orator. that he entring alone into the Citie, making his Oration in the Senate: they did not only render them selues and open their gates, but also did kisse King Phil­lips hands for kyng. In such wise, that the Philosopher had more power with his wordes, thā the King with his armies. I say this reuerend Father, for that betwixt the bearing and reading of a sermon there goeth no small difference. For as the Apostle sayeth, the letter killeth, but the spirit quickneth. The authoritie of the Prophets be assured, the sermon go­eth written as it was preached, but I giue you to vnderstand, it goeth despirited and vnsauery.

But comming to the purpose of that the Prophet saithe: [Page 109] which is to wete: descendant in infernum viuentes. The doubt is, how it may agrée, that they may go downe to hell,A text of the Psalmist ex­pounded. being aliue, and being aliue, how they may bée in hell. Saying, as the Prophet doth saye, in an other Psalme: Non mortui lnudabunt te Domine, nes omnes qui descendant in infernum. If those that goe downe into hell, shall not there praise God, but blaspheme him: to what end doth the prophet commaund vs to descēd? To say that Orestes entred into hell after the Nym­phes, and that Aeneas descended thither to seke his father: and that the musicion Orpheus did fetch from thence his wife, and the valiant Hercules did breake the gates and bind the Giant Aethna, and the dog Cerberus: These may bée termed poetical fixions, and no truthes: for the vnfortunate that is once ouer­taken with night in hell, for euermore there remaineth bu­ried: and he that can once tymely rise vp into Paradise, shall neuer more sée night: for the elect shall there find day without night, and the dampned shall find night without day. Being such as wée ought to be, wée may excuse our going to hell: but after that wée shall be entred thither, it is not in vs to re­turne againe. For ther is nothing more consonant to reason, thā that he which willingly came to the fault, against his wil do suffer paine. For the prophet to saye, descendant in infernum viuentes, in my iudgement I durst say, that his meaning was to perswade vs, and to warne vs, that wée descend into hell being aliue: that wée descend not after wée be dead. Now let vs descend into hell by contemplation, so that afterwards we descend not to eternall dampnation. Let vs descend thither by feare, that they carry vs not thither by rigour. Let vs des­cend thither with good will, that they carry vs not by force. Let vs descend by day, that they carry vs not at night. Let vs descend alone, bycause they shall not compell vs to goe with companye. Let vs descend in tyme, that wee maye returne, because that afterwardes they shall not carry vs to leaue vs there. Finally, I do saye, that it is an holy thing to descend into hell, while we are aliue, to the ende wée descend not whē wée bée dead. They dayly descend into hell that thinke vpon [Page 110] the gréeuous paines and formentes that be giuen there for sinne. For there is no better salue to part vs frō our sinnes, than alway to carry the paine in memorie. For out of doubt, the paine of the dampned dothe withdraw vs from vices. Goe who will on pilgrimage to Mōserate, let them wander to get the Iubile of S. Iames: let him vow himselfe to our Lady of Gadaliape: let him trauaile to S. Lazarus of Ciuill: let him send almes to the holy house: and let him offer his goods to S. An­tony de Castro. But for my part I will no other station, but that vnto hell. Hée vnderstendeth not a little, nor occupieth himselfe in little, nor goeth not a little, nor takes in hand that is little, neither goeth on pilgrimage a little, that euery daye giueth a hoylt or a turne into hell. Once a yeare did the He­brewes visit their temple. From fiue yeares to fiue, the Sam­nites did celebrate their Lustros: from foure to foure yeares the Greekes did feast at their Olimpiades: from seuen yeares to seuen yeares, the Aegyptians did renew the Temple of Iris: from ten to ten yeares, the Romanes did send presentes to the Oracle of Apollo: but he that is a faithful and a true Christian, not from a time to so long a time, but euery houre and euery moment shall goe and come to hell. For of a perpetual paine, perpetual ought to be the memorie therof. In the pilgrimage to the holy House, there is cost, trauell, and also perill: but those that euery day do visite hell by contemplation: neyther haue cost, or passe trauell, neyther runne in any kind of daun­ger: For it is a pilgrimage that you goe on drie foote, and is visited with standing still. Oh blessed is the Soule that eue­ry day by the stations of hell giues a turne, in which he doth behold, howe the proud be there brought downe: the enuious chastized: the gluttons pine with hunger: the furious grow milde: and the fleshly consumed. Therfore, let the liuing de­scend into hell. To go this holy iorney, neyther weaknesse maye excuse vs, eyther pouertie let vs: for it dothe neyther commaunde vs to weary our persons, or that wée employe our goods, but that wée kéepe our money and there to bestow our thoughtes. Therefore let the liuing descend into hell. [Page 111] It doth not séeme to me, y^e [...]ath an vnméet painted storie, y^t hath hell painted in his oratorie: for they are much more that abstain from sin for fear of the pain, than for loue of y^e glorie.

This is that I iudge of that text of the Psalmist, about the whiche (may it please the king of heauen) that euen as my pen hath written, my soule may alwayes ruminate: for as the Apostle sayth, not the hearers, but the doers shall be iu­stified.

Vale. Iterum (que) vale.

From Madrid the .viij. of Ianua­rie .1524.

MAgnificent and good Christian gentle­man, you write vnto me, that you are muche offended by many slaunderers that depraue your doings, & vnframe your attemptes: I saye, to maruaile thereat, you haue some occasion, but to be offended, you haue no reason. For in the ende,It is lesse euill to enuie vs, thā to pitie vs it is lesse euill that your neybors enuy you, thā that your frends shuld pitie you The most auncient vice of this world is enuie, and that which shall not ende vntill the worlde be fi­nished, is enuie. Adam, and the serpent: Abell and Cain▪ Iacob and Esau: Ioseph and his brethren: Saul and Dauid: Iob and Sa­than: Achitophell, and Hewsey: Haman and Mardocheus: did not persecute each other for the goodes they did possesse: but for the enuie they had. Muche more is the enimitie that is sowen vpon enuie: than that whiche is founded vpon iniu­rie. For the iniured man, dothe many times forget: but the enuious dothe neuer cease to persecute. More cruell and also more long were the warres betwixt the Romans and the Car­thaginians: than betwixte the Greekes and the Troians: For the Greekes did fight for the iniurie done vnto Helene: and the others, who shoulde obtayne the seygnorie of Europe. [Page 112] The mortall hatreds that fell betwixt those two great Ro­main Princes,The causes of hatred of Iu­lius Cesar, and Pompeius. Iulius Caesar and Pompeius, was not for that the one had iniured or euill dealt with the other: but for that Pompeius had enuie at the great fortune Iulius Caesar had in fyghting, and Caesar had enuie at the great grace Pompeius had in gouernement. Twoo kinde of people were amongst the Romaines: much famous and very glorious, which is to wit: the Dictators, that were very wise in gouernement, vnto whom they erected pictures liuely counterfet: and the Consul­les, whiche were skilfull in ordering of their batailles. And to these were giuen triumphes. In suche wise, that when Rome was in hir great prosperitie, no seruice was left vnre­warded, nor crime vnpunished. Ther be few men in whom all vices [...] concorre, and muche lesse be those that want all faultes: and if there be any man that is good, he is enuied, and if he be euill, he is enuious. In such wise, that with the vice of enuy, eyther we must persecute, or of some bée persecu­ted. Wée may saue our selues from the liar, by not speaking with him: From the proud, by not comparing with him: Frō the slothfull, by not troubling him: from the lecherous, in not being conuersant with him: from the glutton, by not eating with him: From the furious, by not chiding with him: from the nigard, by asking him nothing. But from the enuious, it is not sufficient to flie from him, much lesse to flatter him. The vice of enuie is of suche effect, that there is no tower, which he doth not scale: nor wal, that he doth not ouerthowe: nor mine, that the doth not countermine: nor power, that he doth not resist: neither man, against whom he doth not bend. If in one man alone might bée found the beautie of Absolon, the strength of Sampson, the wisedom of Salomon, the swiftnes of Azaell, the riches of Croessus, the liberalitie of Alexander, the valiantnes of Hector, the eloquence of Homer, the fortune of Iulius, the life of Augustus, the Iustice of Traianus, & the zeale of Cicero, let him hold it for certaine, that he shall not be so indued with graces, as he shall be persecuted of the enuious: the wolfe followes the flock, the Rauens the carion, the Bee [...] [Page 113] the floure, the Flies, the Honie, men, the riches, and the en­uious prosperitie: I would say, that naturally as wée haue cōpassion vpon the wretched, so haue we enuie at tthe prospe­rous. At the venim of Socrates, at the exile of Aeschines, Enuie ben­deth his artil­lerie against prosperitie. at the hangyng of Cressus, at the destruction of Darius, at the mis­chaunce of Pyrrhus, at the end of Cyrus, at the infamie of Ca­teline, at the misfortune of Sophonisa, none euer bare enuie, but pitie. One of the thynges by the whiche I knowe howe far the malice of man doth extend, is: in that to the miserable & ouerthrowne, there is none that will giue his hand to helpe them vp: and to the riche and those that are in fauoure, there wantes not that armeth stumblyng blockes to make them fall. Let them perswade themselues whiche be riche of po­wer, and priuate or in fauour, that their power and riches is not so great, as the malice and enuie of their neighboures is cruell. Sir I thought good to bring vnto youre memorye these olde things, to the end you shall not refuse to pay youre pounde of waxe, to bée admitted into the brotherhode of en­uie. I gyue you to vnderstande, if you knowe not, that the brothers of the fraternitie of enuie,Behold the fraternitie of enuie. obserue it as a principall office, to burie men quicke, and to rayse vp dead men. This brotherhode of enuie is generous, for of them haue bin Chri­stians and infidels, absent and present, riche and poore, and all those that be dead, and such as be now alyue. They haue in that fraternitie, greate liberties and priuiledges, that is to saye, they repaire not to Chappels, but to houses: they speake not euill of the poore, but of the riche: they doe not helpe, but hinder: they giue not, but they take: they praye not, but they cursse: they abstaine not from mans fleshe, but from beasts: they be not in doubte of their enimies, but of their frends: Finally they haue licence to murmur one of an other, and neuer to common of the truth. Although this bro­therhood be painfull and tedious, yet is it a signe of great mi­serie not to be registred in the same: for the man that hath not in this world some enimies, it is a note that of fortune he is muche forgot. Plutarch in his Apophthegmes, speaking of The­mistocles, [Page 114] the renoumed Captaine of the Grekes sayeth, that one demaunding why he was so sad? made answere: The so­row that I haue is, for that in .xxij. yeare since I was borne, I thinke not that I haue haue done any thyng worthie memo­rie, bicause I sée no man in all Athens beareth me enuy. The first tyrant that was in Sicile, the auncients doe affirme, was Herion, the second Celon, the thirde Dionysius the Syracusan, the fourth Dionysius the yong man, the fifth Taxillo, the sixte Brudanus, the seuenth Hermocrates: of the which seuen, to this day the Scicilians do as much complayne, as the Greekes doe boast themselues of their seuen sages. The laste tyrant Her­mocrates, approching neare to death is reported to haue said vnto his sonne: Sonne, the last words I say vnto thée, is, bée not enuious in condicion, but do such deedes as therefore thou must be enuied. Surely, these wordes were not wordes of a Tyrant, but of a very wise man. For he commaunded by the same, that he should be vertuous, and forbad him to be malici­ous. Sir I sayd vnto you in the beginning of this letter, that although you had some occasion, yet had you no iust reason too vexe your selfe, neither to desist in weldoing. For of two euils the lesse euill is, to consent that they murmur of well doing, then to leaue to do well.

Sir from hence there are few things to write of, but that, if you haue there too many euill tongues, héere we haue no want of blasphemies, whiche do neither make exception of God, or pardon the King. Two times I haue moued the Car­dinall Tortosa in your busines: & if I be not deceyued, as great is his forgetfulnesse, as my diligence. We that be in thys Court, aduise our selues to séeke that whiche we may, when we cannot what we desire. No more, but our Lorde be youre protector, and giue me grace to serue him.

From Valiodolid, the xxvj. of October .1520.

EXpectable Gentleman and magnificent Knight, if it shall séeme vnto you that I aunswer youre Letters with slacknesse, impute the fault to Palome your seruant which halteth, and the horse whereon hée rideth is lame, the way long, the winter hard: and I also am always in businesse, although from the same I haue gathered small profit: and as I suspect, if this your seruant haue made any tarriance vppon the way in comming hither, or hath made small hast in retur­ning thither, it hath procéeded of a certayne combat with loue that he hapned to encounter by the way. Wherein, you may then well thinke how much rather he would accomplishe the loue that he beares in his brest, than with your letters that he carieth in his bosome. If you will credit me, to men inamored you shall neuer commend your busines: For his office is not to be occupied in other affayres, but in writing letters, wat­ching at corners, playing on gitterns, climing of walles, and vewing of windowes. As concerning that which you write vnto me in youre letter, I shall aunswer you more briefly than your desire, and more largely than I may. Considering how I goe to the Inquisition to reforme, and to the Court too preach: and euery day in Caesars Chronicles to write. My busi­nes is ouermuch, and my time too little. By the holy God I do sweare, that as many courtiers which be idle in this court, I do more enuie the time they loose, than the money they pos­sesse. But comming to the purpose,Courtiers loose time. I do sweare by the law of a friend, I haue bene as muche gréeued for your greate mischance and misfortune, as if it had bin myne owne cause. For as Chilo the Philosopher said: the mischances of a friend we must not onely remedy them, but also bewayle them. A­gesisaus the Greek being demanded for what cause he did more lament the heauinesse of his frends, than the death of his chil­dren, [Page 116] made answere: I do not bewayle the want of my wife, the losse of my goodes, or the death of my children: for al these are partes of my selfe: but I bewayle the death of my frend, which is an other my selfe. Sir, I saye thus muche, since I may not be there present to lamente with you, neither doe I here finde my selfe of power sufficient to remedie your case, I will write some letter to comforte you. For sometimes the pen vseth no lesse pitie with the friende, than the launce doth crueltie with the enimie, to persuade that you shoulde not féele, that which reason would you shoulde so muche féele: it shuld be iust occasion for me to be worthily noted with want of due consideration, and you accused to be insensible. That which I dare speak in this matter is, that you conceyue ther­of as a man, and dissemble the same as aduised and discrete. The iniuries that touche our honour, done by suche of whom we may not be reuenged, the most sounde counsell is, to let it fal, since with due vengeance it may not be quited. If in these present gréeues you wil take the order of a Christian, & leaue the way of a worldly knight, you shall fixe your eyes (not on him that doth persecute you) but in God that doth permit the same: before whō you shal find your self so faultie, that that is little whiche you suffer, in respect of that ye deserue to suffer. Moreouer,Iniuries don by the almightie are to bee dissembled. ye ought to thinke, that tribulations whiche God permitteth, be not to lose vs, but to proue vs. For in the books of God they set downe no man as quited, but he that is apte for trauell: and amongst those of the worlde, they giue wages to none but vnto him that is giuen to wantonnesse.

Sir you write vnto me that I certifie you what thing is anger, and the definition therof. To sée if you may forget the dispite of him that hath done you so cruel an outrage to know what thing is Ire, and to cut of the furious curse of his rage. Sir, it semes to me no euill counsell (the very troth being knowen) many times it is more securitie for him that is in­iuried to dissemble the iniurie, than to reuenge it.

Aristides saieth, that ire is no other thing, but an infla­ming of the bloud: and an alteration of the hart. Possidonius [Page 101] sayth, that ire is no other thing, but a short foolishnes. Cicero saith, that which the Latins do cal ire, the Grekes do name de­sire of vengeance. Aeschines sayth, that ire was caused of the fume of the gall, and of the heate of the heart.The trefull of al men and at all times ab­horred. Macrobius saith there is muche difference betwixte ire and testinesse: bicause ire groweth of an occasion, and testinesse of euyll condition. The diuine Plato sayeth, that the faulte is not in anger, but in hym that giues occasion. Laertius sayth, when the chastise­ment excéedes the fault, then is it vengeance, and not zeale: But when the fault doth excéede the chastisemente, it is zeale and no vengeance. Plutarche saith, that the priuiledges of ire, are not to beléeue our friends, to be rash in attempts, to haue the chéekes inflamed, to vse quicknesse with y^e handes, to haue an vnbridled toung, at euery word to vse ouerthwartnesse, to be fumish for small causes, and to admitte no reason. Solon Solonio being demāded whom we cal properly irous, answe­red, he that little estéemeth to lose his friendes, and maketh no account to recouer enimies. After so manie and so graue Philosophers, that which I dare say is, that the vice of ire is lightly written, easy to persuade, pleasaunt to preach, ready to counsell, and very difficile to refrayne. Of any vice wée may speake euill, but of the vice of anger we may say much, and very much euil. For ire doth not only transform vs into fooles, but also maketh vs of al men to be abhorred. To tem­per ire is sufficientely vertuous: but vtterly to expell it, is a thing more thā sure. For all things that are euill of themsel­ues, and of condition hurtfull, are more easily resisted than throwne away. In the beginnings, many thinges be in oure owne handes, to admit or to send them away: but after they haue taken power ouer vs (if by chaunce reason rise against them) they say they will not depart, since they be in possessi­on. Ire hath so euil a condition, that of one only tyme that we yéelde him our will, he afterwards maketh our will vnto all the hée liketh.

In the Magistrates that gouerne the common wealthe,In him that gouerneth, ire is perilious. we condemne not the good or euill correction they vse: but the [Page 118] greate furie they shewe in the same. For if they be bounde to chastise the offences, they haue not licence to shew themsel­ues passioned. Those that offend, it is a thing very iust y^t they remaine not vnpunished: but this punishment must not be suche, that it appeare that they take some great vengeance: for be a man neuer so brute, without comparison he dothe more féele the hate that they shewe, than the chastisements which they giue. The whip, the staffe, the sworde, & the punishment that is giuen to the fleshe, although it be gréeuous, yet it soon passeth: but the iniurious worde the heart neuer forgetteth. For a man to be in power and authoritie, and to refraine his anger, it is not an humaine vertue, but heroicall and diuine. For in this world, there is not a more high or excellent kind of triumph, than a man to triumph ouer his owne heart. So­crates the Philosopher,A notable ex­ample to re­ [...]traine ire. holding his dagger in his hād to strike one of his seruantes (the same alreadie lifted vp) sayde: re­mēbring my self that I am a philosopher, & that at this pre­sent I am angrie, I wil not giue thée thy deserued chastise­mente. O example for certayne worthie to bée noted, and muche more to be imbraced and followed. Of whiche wée may gather, that duryng the tyme that ire hathe vs in posses­sion, we ought not to dare to speake, and muche lesse anye man to chastise.

Licurgus the Philosopher, commaunded those that gouer­ned his common wealth:An example of the heathen to be noted and learned. that all euill and dishonest things they shoulde condemne and chastise, but yet by no means, ab­horre the malefactor, saying that there could not be amongst the people, a more gréeuous plague than a iudge that woulde make hymselfe dronke with furie. There be few that follow this counsell, and verie manie that do the contrarie: for now a days there is none that is angred with the offence, but with the offender. For my part (and also for those that shall) it is a great trauayle to trafike or deale with furious, impacient, and men of euill suffering: For that they are importable to serue, and of conuersation very perillous. Since I haue said what thing is ire, and the hurtes that are doone by ire: nowe [Page 119] let vs say, what remedies may be giuen against ire. For my meaning is not to teache you to be angrye, but to bée paci­ente. I dare auouche, that it is a great remedie agaynst ire, when a man is angred to refrayne the tongue, and to deferre vengeaunce vntill an other tyme. For that many tymes a man doth say and promise béeing in choler, thinges the whi­che afterwardes he woulde not shoulde haue once passed hys thoughtes. With the yrefull we must not be importunate to entreate a pardon, no not from the foote to the hand, but only to desire that vengeance be deferred. For during furie, there is no accompte to bée made that the iniuried will pardon, ex­cepte he bée quieted with the man that is furious and in cho­ler: for any one to séeke to bring him to agreement, or to iu­stice, eyther it is lacke of witte, or diligence more than née­deth. For the ire that is muche inflamed, and the heart that is kindled with furye, neyther doth admit consolation, or is ouercome with reason. I doe aduise and readuise the man that presumes to be wise, that he take not in hand to contend with him that is inflamed with yre. For if he faile to follow counsell herein, when he scapeth best, he shal eyther haue his honour reuiled, or his head broken. Although a man be a frēd vnto him that is offended, he doth him more profite to let him alone, than to speake vnto him, or help him. For at y^e instant he hath more néede of a bit to bridle him, than a spur to quic­ken hym. With the man that is in a rage, it is more néede to vse skill than to deale by force. For although he were an­gred at the sodain, the pacifying of him must be at leisure. Plutarch in the bookes of his cōmon wealth doth counsell the Emperoure Traiane that hée bée paciente in his trauayles, mylde in his affayres, and of muche suffering amongest the furious: affirming and swearing, that many mo thyngs bée cured by tyme, than framed and agréed by reason. Betwixt noble personages wée haue séene greate quarelles, whiche passions and furies mighte not be stayed by entreataunce of friends, threatning of enemies, giftes of money, neyther yet with wearinesse of trauayles: And after that tyme hath had [Page 104] his course (and calling them to remembrance) haue agréed amongst themselues, without the request of any friende to talke therin. Finally, I say, that when a friende doth sée the choler of his friende inflamed, if hée will doe him good, lette hym caste on water with temperaunce to coole hym, and not wood wyth furie to burne him. I (sir Iohn) haue en­larged this Letter muche more than I thoughte, and also more than I desyred, but that youre excéedyng payne and sorrowes haue made my penne discourteous, to suffer, vse silence, and dissemble, and let the tyme passe, and somewhat forget the matter. For if I bée not deceyued, you shall sée, the fire that they made at your gates, burne in their entray­les. Salomon the Hebrew sayde, that the wise man hathe his tongue in his hearte: and he that is a foole and furious, hath his heart in his tongue. Agis the Greeke sayd, that the foolish man is grieued with that whiche he doth suffer, and boastes himselfe of that whiche he hath spoken. And the wyse is grée­ued with that whiche he hath spoken, and boasteth himselfe of that he doth suffer. Nowe or neuer it is néedfull, that you profyte your selfe of your science and wisedome: For it is a spice of no small foolishnesse, to knowe to cure others, and not to remedie your selfe. I am not forgetful, that when my sister the Lady Francis died in Mexia hir towre, you did write mée so many and so good thinges, that they were sufficient to lyghten me of the payne, althoughe not altogether of the sorrowe. And sir, I saye it for this cause, that it shall bée greately to youre owne purpose, to take some grapes of the same vine.

As concerning the reste, I haue no more to write vnto you, but that the credite whiche youre seruaunte broughte with youre letter, in that hée shoulde say vnto mée, the selfe same credite, my letter doth giue him, in that whiche he shal answere.

From Toledo the .vj. of Aprill. 1523.

RIght magnificent and Caesars Em­bassadour, I being in Granado the xx. of Iuly, receiued a letter from your worship. And considering it came so farre as it is from Valentia to Granado, he hath made good spéed vppon the waye, since he departed from thence the Saterday and came hither the Monday. Comming as you come from so straunge a coūtrey as is Rome, and hauing passed so daungerous a Sea as is the gulfe of Narbona, I will not demaund if you came safe: But giue God thankes for that you are come aliue. I wishe (if it please the Lord) that you come from Italy so sound in bodie and so perfect in soule, as when you parted from Spaine: for in new countreyes al­waies there is learned new fashions.

The good Licurgus did commaund the Lacedemonians, that neyther out of the kingdome they should goe to traffike, or suffer straungers to enter their countrey, saying: That if kingdomes grow rich by trading with straūgers, they turne poore of their proper vertues. Speaking the trueth and also with libertie, I haue séene fewe come from Italie; that came not absolute and also dissolute: and this, not because the land is not consecrat with saints, but for that it is now inhabited with sinners. The properties of the belles, are to call men to come to seruice, & neuer enter into the church them selues: and in my iudgement, such is the condition of Italie, where there be great Sanctuaries that prouoke vnto prayer, and the people thereof hath no deuotion. Many doe say that all the weale of Italie consisteth in libertie. I say that all their hurt riseth by want of subiection: because, for men to doe all that they will, they come to doe that, whiche they ought not. If Trogus Pompeius do not deceiue vs, the Romanes giuing li­bertie [Page 122] to the Bactrians for that they had succoured the Consull Rufus in the Spartian warres,For the doubt of vice, libertie refused. they refused it, saying, that, that day they should be made frée, they should commit where­by deseruedly to be slaues. Speaking the trueth, there be no common wealthes more lost than those where the people be most at libertie? For the condition of libertie is, to be of many desired and of fewe well employed: where there is no subiec­tion, there is no King: wher there is no King, there is no law: where there is no lawe, there is no Iustice: where is no Iu­stice, there is no peace: where there is no peace, there is con­tinuall warre: and where there is warre, it is impossible that the common wealthe maye long endure. Neuer might the mighty Rome bée brought vnder by the Greeks, the Carthagi­nians, the French, the Hunnes, the Epirotes, the Sabines, the Sam­nites, and Hetrurians: but finally it came to ruine and was lost, by the pryde they had in commaunding, and the much libertie in sinning. The diuine Plato did say many times to the Athe­nians when hee sawe them goe so at large: take heed you Athe­nians to your selues, & loose not by your viciousnes, that which you haue wonne by your valiauntnes. For I giue you to vn­derstand, that libertie asketh no lesse wisdom to conserue it, than valiauntnes to obtain it. Experiēce teacheth daylie, how in a frée cōmon wealth, they do more hurtes, they speak more blasphemies, they cōmit more offences, they rayse more scan­dales, more good be defamed, and more theft attempted, onely of two yongmen at libertie, than of two hundred that be sub­iect. If curiously we do behold, of a troth we find that they doe not drowne in welles, whip, banishe, cut the throtes, hang, cut of eares, nor put in prison, but lost men that spends their time in vanities, and employ their libertie in vices.

In the life of man ther is not the like riches to libertie, but iointly therewith, there is nothing more perillous than shée is, if they know not to measure hir and vse hir according to reason: libertie ought to bée wonne, procured, bought, succou­red and defended:Libertie cra­ueth wisdome. but iointly with this, I do warne, giue counsell, and also aduise him that shall haue hir, that hée vse [Page 123] hir (not when the appetite shall require) but when reason shall giue licence. For otherwise, thinking that he had liber­tie for all his life, he shal not enioye hier a month. The libertie of Phalaris did trouble the Greekes: that of Roboam lost the Hebrewes: that of Cateline did offend the Romanes: that of Iugurtha defamed the Carthaginians: that of Dionysius decayd the Scicilians: and in the end, the common wealths had an end of their trauailes, and they of their liues and tyrānies. Many men there be that leaue to doe euill, bycause they will not: but much more are they that cease, bycause they cannot. Many there be that doe abstaine for conscience, and many more for shame: many do refraine for loue, but many more for feare: many liue with a desire to be good, & many more for feare to be dishonored. But yet for fear, or for loue, or for cōscience, or else for shame: alwaies we must stay our selues by the truth, & cut of the sway of libertie. For if we giue the bridle to sen­sualitie, & doe not shut the doore to libertie, we shal haue what to think vpon by daye, and also wherefore to wéepe by night.

Sir, I thought good to bring this to your memorie, to the ende, that since you come from Rome, you be not ouer care­full to boast your selfe of the customes thereof. For you shall vnderstand (if ye know not) that the fashions of Italie are more pleasaunt to be recounted, than sure to be followed. If you call to remembraūce the generositie of Rome, the libertie of the neighbours, the varietie of the people, the galantnes of the women, the plēty of victualles, the goodnes of the wines, the mirth and ioye at their feastes, & the magnificēcy of their Pallaces: you haue therewith to remember, y^t there where goods be spent, the cōscience is charged, and also many times y^t soule is lost. The Romish people in Rome many of them be good, but the straunge people y^t are stayed in Italie, for y^e more part are euill, for they be but very few that goe thyther with deuotion, but they be infinite that be lost in wandring after their fleshly lustes. Rome is not now in y^e power of the Chri­stians, as it was in the time of the heathen, for then being the mother of all vertues, she is now turned to y^e schole of al vices.

[Page 124]Leauing this aparte, what shall we say of a poore priest that goeth to Rome through Spaine, Fraunce, and Lumbardy, and before hée can get sentence of his benefice, he cōmittes a thou­sand vices, spendes his money, and doth a thousand wicked déedes? I say for myne own part, that I was at Rome, I sawe Rome, I visited Rome, and did behold Rome: in which I sawe many things that gaue deuotion, & other things that brought me to admiration. Oh how much, and how much is betwixt the customes of Italie, and the law of a pure christian?

Twelue cōdi­ciōs of Rome, variyng from Christes law.1 For in the one they saye, that ye maye doe all that you will, and in the other, nothing but what you ought to do.

2 In the one, that you be a comfort to all men, and in the other, that you shall denie to procure to be saued.

3 In the one, that you haue much conscience, and in the other, that you make no accompt of shame.

4 In the one, that you trauell to be a good Christian, and in the other, that you care to be very rich.

5 In the one, that you liue cōformable vnto vertue, in the other, that you care not but to enioye libertie.

6 In the one, that for any thing you shal not speake a lye, in y^e other, y^t in case of interest, you make no accōpte of truth.

7 In the one, that you liue onely with your own, and in the other, that also you take profit of other mennes.

8 In the one, that alwaies you remember to dye, & in the other, that for nothing you leaue to lead an ill life.

9 In the one, that alwaies you occupie your self in know­ledge, & in the other, y^t you giue your self to be of much power.

10 In the one, that you impart of that you haue with the poore and friends, and in the other, that alwaies you keepe for deare yeares.

11 In the one, that you vse much silence, and in the other, that you presume to be very eloquent.

12 In the one, that you beléeue onely in Christ, and in the other, that you procure to haue money. If you my Lord Em­bassador, with these xy. conditions wilbe a Romane, much good may it do you. For vpon the day of accoumpt, you would [Page 125] rather haue bin a laborer in Spaine, than an Embassadour at Rome. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and to you and to me he giue good endings.

From Granado, in the yeare 1525. the daye and moneth aforesaid.

RIght magnificent Embassadour to Caesar: by your letter that I haue receiued, I was certi­fied y^t to you was deliuered an other of mine,A condicion at be in braced. wherein I haue vsed no curious care: For vnder your good condicion, there is no place for any thing to be dispraysed, much lesse to be condemned. Mosen Rubine aduertised me, that by sléeping in an ayry place, you haue bin very reumatike, which I certain­ly béeleue hath procéeded of the great heate of the moneth of August, but by my aduise you shall not vse it, neither others so giue counsell: for that it is lesse euill in sommer to sweate than to cough.

You write, and also send vnto me certaine Gothicke let­ters, that you haue foūd written in an aunciēt place in Rome, whiche you can neither reade, or they in Italy can declare.

Sir I haue very well séene, considered, and also reconsidered them: and to him that is not acquainted with this Romish cyphringes they séeme illegible, and not intelligible, and that to vnderstand and read them well, it were necessary that the men that bée a liue shoulde deuine, or those that wrote them shoulde rise from death to life. But to expound these letters, no dead man shall bée raysed, either am I a soothsayer or di­uine. I haue tyred my wittes, and called to remembrance, I haue ouerturned my Bookes, and also haue ouerloked mer­uailous and many histories, to see and to know who it was that did write them, and wherefore they were written: and in the ende, as there is nothing that one man doth, that ano­ther can not do, or that one man knoweth, and an other [Page 126] knoweth not, your good luck wold, and my great diligence, that I met with that whiche you desired, and I sought for. And for that it shall not séeme that I speake without Booke, in few wordes I will recite the history.

In the times of Octauius Augustus the Emperour, there was in Rome a Romane Knight named Titus Annius (verely a man) of great experience in causes of warre, and right wise in the gouernment of the common wealthe. There was in Rome an office that was called Tribunus Scelerum, & this had the charge of all criminall causes, whiche is to wit, to hang, to whip, to banish, to cut throates, and to drowne in wels: in such maner, that the Censor did iudge the Ciuill, and the Tri­bune the Criminall. This office amongst the Romanes was of great preheminence, and of no lesse confidence, they neuer incommended the same but to a man of noble bloud, auncient in yeares, learned in the lawes, in life honest, and in iustice very moderate: for that all these condicions did concurre in Titus Annius, hée was by the Emperour Augustus in the office of Tribune named, by the Senate confirmed, and of the peo­ple allowed. Titus Annius liued and was resident in this of­fice xxv. yeres, in all whiche time hée neuer spake to man any iniurious word, either did any iniustice. In remuneration of his trauell,A rewarde after death. and in reward of his bountie, they gaue him for priuilege that hée shoulde bée buried within the walles of Rome, and that hée should bury by him selfe some money, and that in that sepulcher there shoulde not any other bée buried. For a man to bée buried in Rome, was amongst the Romanes a great preheminence, the one was bycause the priests did consecrate the sepulcher, and the other for that malefactors to flie vnto sepulchers, were more worth than the temples. But now these letters woulde saye, that Titus Annius (Iudge of the faultie) by him in his sacred sepulcher did hide certaine money, whiche is to wit, ten foote off, and that in the same sepulcher the Senate doth commaund, that none of his heyres be buried. This Titus Annius when hée died left his wife aliue that was named Cornelia, whiche in the sepulcher of hir hus­band [Page 127] did set this Epitaphe. The aucthors of this history are Vulpicius, Valerius, Trebellius. And bycause the declaration of the history shall appeare more cleare, let vs set the exposition ouer euery letter, and these be the letters.

Titus. Annius. Tribunus. Scelerum. Sacro. A darke Epi­taph expoun­ded.

T. A. T. Sce. S.

Suo. Sepulcro. Pecuniam. Condidit. Non.

S. S. P. Con. N.

Longe. Pedes. Decem. Hoc. Monumentum.

Lon. P. X. H. M.

Heres. Non. Sequitur. Iure. Senatus.

H. N. S. I. S.

Cornelia. Dulcissima. Eius. Coniux. Posuit.

Cor. D. E. Con. P.

Behold here my Lord Embassador your letters expoun­ded, and not dreamed, and in my iudgement this that we haue said they would say, and if you be not satisfied with this inter­pretation, let the dead expound them that did write them, or those bée whiche aline that gaue them. No more but that our Lord be your protector, and giue vs grace that we ende in his seruice.

From Toledo the third of April, 1526.

RIght magnificent and Caesars Precor, I recea­ued a letter from your Lordshippe, with the whiche I did much reioyce my selfe before I did read it, and after that I had reade it, I re­mained no lesse offended: not for that whiche you had written vnto me, but for that you commaunded me, and also demaunded of me. (If Plutarch do not deceaue vs,) into the chamber of Dionisius the Siracusan none did enter: in the librarye of Lucullus no man sate [Page 128] down: Marcus Aurelius with the key of his study, (no not with his Faustine) did vse any trust: and of a troth they had great reason: bycause there be things of such qualitie, that not only they ought not to be dealt withall, neither yet to be looked vp­pon. Aeschines the Philosopher said, that for very great frend­ship that might be betwixt one and other, he ought not to shew him all thinges in his house,He is depri­ued of libertie, that discoue­reth a secret. nor to communicate with him all that he thinkes in his hart: saying that a man is no more himselfe, than that he holdeth secret in himselfe. It is long since I commended vnto my memorye, that sentence of the diuine Plato, wher it is said: that vnto whom we discouer our secret, wée giue our libertie. I say this vnto your Lordship, for that if I had not consented that your Secretarie shoulde enter my studie, neither had hée bin a babler, or your Lord­ship importunate. Your honor saith that he said, he had séene in my library a banke of olde bookes, whereof some were Gothike, Latin, Greeke, Calde, and Arabic, and that he forgat not to steale one, which made much for your purpose. In that he said vnto you, he said very troth: and in that he did, he did me much displeasure, for that amongst the learned, iestes do extend euen to the speaking of wordes: but not to the stea­ling of bookes.

As I my Lord haue no other goodes to lay vp, nor other pastimes wherewith to recreat me, but bookes that I haue procured, and also sought in diuers kingdomes: beeleue me one thing, whiche is, that to take my bookes, is as much as to pull out my eyes. Of my naturall condiciou, I was euer an enemie to new opinions, and a great frend of olde bookes: for if Salomon say, Quòd in antiquis est sapientia, for my part I do not beleue, that the wisedonie lyeth in horeheades, but in olde bookes. The good king sir Alonso that toke Naples, did vse to say that all was but trash, except drie wood to burn, an olde horse to ride, olde wine to drinke, olde frendes to bée conuer­sant, and olde bookes to reade in. Olde bookes haue great ad­uantage of the newe, whiche is to wit, that they speake the trueth, they haue grauitie, and do shew authoritie: of whiche [Page 129] it followeth, that we maye reade them without scruple, and alledge them without shame.

The case is this, that in the yeare 1523. I passing thorough the Towne of Safra, came to a Booke binders shop, whiche was tearing out leaues of an olde parchement booke to couer another new booke, and knowing that the booke was better to reade in, than to make couerings, I gaue him for the same viij. Rialles of plate, & also would haue giuen him viij. Duca­tes. Now Sir, you shal vnderstand, that the booke was of the lawes of Badaios, that king Allonso the xj. made, a Prince that was very valiant, and not a little wise. This is the booke that your Secretarie did steale from me, whiche he carried vnto you, and it hath pleased me muche that you haue séene it, and haue not vnderstood it: in suche wise, that if you render it, it is not because ye haue desire to make restitution, but for that you will I make exposition thereof.

RIght noble Knight, I haue receyued your letter and your complaint therein, where­vnto answering, I say, that I haue bin much busied in certaine affaires whiche Caesar hath commaunded, (during the expedition where­of) I haue had no time to pray my houres, muche lesse to aunswere your letters missiue. It came vnto Caesars vnderstanding, that the Duke of Sogorbe, and the Monkes of the vale of Paradise did beare each other ill will, and did vse euill neighbourhod: for whiche cause hée com­maunded, [Page 130] that I shoulde visite them, and trauaile to bring them agréed: whiche I did of very good will, although not without great difficultie. In fourtie dayes that I was there, I neither wente to walke, either did occupie my selfe in prea­ching, eyther giue my selfe to studie: but all my exercise was to sée priuiledges, to visit boundes, to heare quarelles, and to appease iniuries. And for that these affaires were of impor­tance, and betwixt personages of so great authoritie: I pas­sed immeasurable trauel before I could make them frendes, and remoue their griefes. I haue said all this, to the ende you shoulde holde me the rather excused, for not aunswering so soone vnto your letter: and for not accomplishing that whiche I promised you in the grades of Valentia: but the case was this. The Prince of Borbon passing by Valentia, wée saw in a certaine cloth of his tapistrie a horse, whiche had at his féete Knightes throwen downe and dead. And in the brest of the horse was a writing in whiche was sayde, Equus Seianus: as one would saye, this is Saians horse. Marueylouslye did they of the Citie beholde this cloth, and no man vnderstode what the blason of that horse might signifie: some saide it was the historie of Iosue, some of Iudas Machabeus, some of Hector, some of Alexander, othersome of Cirrudias. After that maner euery man did speake as hée did gesse, but no man as hée did know for troth. There was in that troupe a gentlemā which said, that that was king Don Martin his horse which won Va­lentia of the Mores, & that they were fyue Kings of the Mores that hée killed in one daye: and his horse was named Seian, for that he was of Sogorbe. It staineth a Gentleman to tell a lye. And bycause there was no man that did knowe the secret of that history but I (that held my peace) he did so sweare and forsweare, and also affirme it so true, as if he had recompted a storie of the Bible. Cōsidering he was a Knight, in bloud. Generouse, of goods rich, & of yea­res auncient, (although in his wordes very lying) I would not there declare presently the misterye of that horse, bycause others should not haue wherewith to deride him, or the poore gentleman wherfore to bée displeased. Mimus Publianus, the [Page 131] Philosopher said, that with old mē that be vaine bablers and ianglers, we ought to haue more respect to their hore heares that they possesse, than to the wordes they speake.

The history of Saians horse is written by very graue au­thors, whiche is to wit: Cayus Bassianus, Iulius Modestus, and Aulus Gelius in the third Booke that hée made de noctibus At­ticis. And I doe aledge these authors, for that no man shall thinke it is a compound fable, but that of a troth it did passe, as here wée shall recount the historie, resiting it from the foundation.

The great Hercules the Thebane, after that hée had slaine Diomedes in Thracia, brought with him to Greece, a certaine race of horses y^t Diomedes had bred, which of their own proper nature were in colour fayre, of stature large, in condicions gentle, and in battell couragious. Of the race of these there was bred an horse in the prouince of Argose, whose proportiō was, a high crest, hear to the groūd, slit nostrelles, sure houed, well membred, broade buttocks, a long tayle, great eyes, a soft skinne, colour baye, and aboue all, of courage maruel­lous fierce. This horse being yet but a colt, they came from Asia, from Palestina, from Thebes, from Pentapolis, and from all Greece, by the meane of his fame: some to sée him, others to buy him, and other some to praise him and set him a sale to the people: for there was no person that desired not to sée him, and much more to haue him. And in this world, as there is not a thing so perfit, in whiche there is not some imperfe­ction, the destiny of this horse was so accursed: for all they that bred him, bought him, and did ride him, died miserable and infamed. And for that it shall not séeme that wée speake at large, and doe recounte an historie very suspicious: brief­ly we will touche who were they that bought this horse and did possesse him, and also the great misfortunes that came vnto them by the same.

In the yeare CCCCxiij. from the foundation of Rome, Quintus Cincinatus the Dictator being dead, the Romanes did sende a Romane Consull into Grecia that was named Cneius [Page 132] Saianus, a man in bloud holden famous, and for gouerne­ment in the common wealth very wise. When the Consull Cneius Saianus went into Greece, that horse was a Colt of thirtie monethes, the which he cheapened, bought, and brake, and was the first that did ryde him. And for that this Cneius Saianus being in Rome, did follow the partialitie of Octauius Augustus: a yeare after hée went into Greece, and not six moneths after hée had bought that horse, Marcus Antonius commaunded his head to be cut off, and also his body to be vn­buried. This maye it appeare, that Cneius Saianus was the first that bought and brake this horse, and also did experiment by death his vn happy destenie. They named him then, (and from thence forwarde,) Saianus horse. Cneius Saianus being beheadded, there succéeded him in the office of Consulship, a certayne Romaine named Dolabella: whiche immediatly being Consull, did buy that horse for an hundreth thousand Sester­cios: and surely if hée had knowen the euill that hée bought vnto his house (I think) hée would haue giuen an other hundreth thousand not to haue bought him. Within a yeare after the Consull Dolabella had bought that horse, there arose in the Citie of Epirus (were hée was resident) a popular se­dition, in whiche the sorowfull Dolabella was slaine, and also drawen throughe the streates. The Consull Dolabella being dead, another Consull was desirous to buy that horse, whose name was Caius Cassius, a manne whome Plutarch writeth to haue borne great office in Rome, and to haue done great déedes in Africa. Not two yeares after, the Cōsul Cassius had bought that vnhappy horse, they gaue him suche herbes at his dinner, that within an howre, hée, his wife and chil­dren lost their liues, not hauing time to speake one word. The Consull Caius Cassius being dead, the famous Romane Marcus Antonius desired to buy that horse: and hée was so pleased with the forme and shape thereof (when they brought him) that hée gaue as great reward to the bringer, as hée paid vnto him that solde the same: not twoo monethes after that Marcus Antonius had bought this horse, a batell was fought [Page 133] at Sea betwixt him and his enemy Octauius Augustus: In whiche bataill his onely beloued Cleopatra would be present, to hir greate infamie, and greater losse of him selfe. What vnfortunate ende Marcus Antonius had, and what an hastye death his Cleopatra did suffer, is notorious to all men that haue reade Plutarch. Marcus Antonius being dead, yet still that vnfortunate horse remained aliue, whiche came to the handes of a Knight of Asia, who was named Nigidius, and for that the horse (as now) was somewhat olde, at that present he bought him good cheape, although afterwards he cost him very deare: for within one yeare after he bought him, at the passage of the Riuer Marathon, the horse stumbled and fell in suche wise, that both master and horse were drowned, and were neuer more seene.

These are the fiue Knightes that are throwen downe at the foote of Sayans horse, to wit, Saian, Dolabella, Cassius, Fiue Knigh­tes throwne downe. Mar­cus Antonius, and Nigidius. The whiche history, although it bée delectable to reade, on the other part it is lamentable to heare. Afterwardes, whē in Asia they fell in reckoning and to remēber the euill fortune that the horse had alway with him, there arose amongest them a common prouerbe, to saye vnto the man that was vnhappy or vnfortunate, That he had ridden vpon Sayans horse.

The like chaunce happened when Scipio did robbe the Temples of Tolosa in France, in that of all those which caried away any golde and riches to their houses, none did escape, but within one yeare died, and all his familie and house de­stroyed. To this daye it is a custome in France, to saye vnto the man that is vnfortunate, That he hath Tolouze golde in his house.

Laertius saith, that in Athenes there was an howse where all were borne fooles: and there was another house where they were all borne doltish: and as by discourse of time, the Senators fell into the reckoning therof, they commāded that those houses shoud not bée inhabited, but pulled downe. Hero­dianus sayeth, that in the Marcian field in Rome, there was a [Page 134] Gentlemans house,Sometimes some things vnfortunat. in whiche all the owners died sodainly: And as the neighbourhod made relatiō thereof vnto the Em­perour Aurelianus, he did not onely commaund it to bée thre­wen downe, but also that all the tymber shoulde be burned. Solon Solonius forbiddeth in his Lawes to the Aegyptians, that nothing of the dead should be sold, but that all should bee par­ted amongst his heyres, saying: If the dead had any vnfor­tunate or vnluckie thing, it should remayne in his family and kinred, and should not passe vnto the common wealth. Incon­tinent vpon the death of the infamouse Romane Princes Ca­ligula and Nero, the Senate prouided that all the riches and houshold stuffe should be burned and buried in welles, fearing that in their tyrānicall goods, ther might be hid some euill for­tune, by the couetousnesse whereof, Rome might be lost, and the common wealth impoysoned.

Sir, I thought good to write all these examples and straūge chaunces, not that you shoulde béeleue in Augureis, but to the ende you should think that there be in this world some things so infortunate as they séeme to draw or bring with them the selfe same or other mishaps. No more but that our Lord bée your protector. &c.

REnoumed and most magnificēt Lorde, at the time that Palome your seruaunt came to visit me on your behalf, and gaue me your letters, I was in a furious feuer, in suche wise, that I could neither read your letter, or speake a word vnto the bearer thereof. After that y^e feuer begā to cease, & that I had reade your letter, I vnderstood the desire you had of my health, and the grief you séemed to haue of my infirmitie. Beleue me Sir, and be out of doubt, that at that present I had more abilitie to drink, than to read, for I would [Page 135] haue giuen all my Librarie for one only ewer of water. Your Lordship writeth vnto me, that you also haue béen ill, & that you thinke all your sicknesse to be well employed, as well for that you féele your selfe recouered, as also that you finde your selfe affected with a holy purpose to departe from sin, and to abstaine from excesse in eating.

My Lord, I am sory with all my heart that you haue ben sicke, and it pleaseth me very much that you stand vppon so good a purpose, although it be very true, that I wold more re­ioyce to sée you performe, than to heare you promise: for hell is full of good desires, and heauen is full of good workes. But be it as be may, to my iudgemēt there is not any thing wherin we may soner discerne a man to be wise or foolish, than to sée in what maner he behaueth him selfe in aduersitie, & how he reapeth profite by sicknesse.To profite by sicknes decla­reth great wisedome. There is no such foolishnes as to employe our health to euill purpose, either is there any such wisedome, as to drawe fruite or commoditie out of sickenesse. Cum infirmor iuncfortior sum: the Apostle said, that whē he was sicke, then was he most strong: & this he said,Priuileges & profites obtai­ned by sicknes bycause the sicke man doth neither swel by pride, or fornication doth make him cōbat, or auarice doth ouerthrow, or enuie doth molest, or ire doth alter, or gluttony doth bring vnder, or slouthfulnesse doth make negligent, either ouerwatch him selfe with ambition.

My Lord Duke, pleaseth it the Lord that wée were suche being whole, as we promise to be when we be sicke. All the care of the euill Christian when he is sicke, is, to desire to bée whole, onely to liue and enioye more of this world: but the desire of the good Christian whē he is diseased, is to be whole, not so much to liue as to reform his life. In the time of sicke­nesse, there is none that doth remember himselfe of affection or passion, of friendes or enemies, of riches or pouertie, of ho­nour or dishonour, of solace or trauell, of laying vp treasure or growing poore, cōmaunding or obeying: but to be deliuered of one grief of the dead, would giue all that he had gotten all the daies of his life. In sicknes ther is no true pleasure, & in health all trauel is tollerable: what wants he that lackes not health? [Page 136] What is it worthe that he possesseth that enioyeth not his health? What doth it profite to haue a very good bed if he can­not sléepe? What benefite hath he that hath old wine of fra­grant fauour, if the phisitian do commaund that he drinke sod water? What auayleth to haue good meat, whē only the fight thereof moueth belkes, and makes the stomacke wamble? What commoditie ariseth vnto him that hath much money, if the more part hée spend vpon Phisitians and Poticaries? Health is so great a thing, that to kéepe it and to conserue it, wée ought not only to watche but ouerwatche: The whiche surely séemes not so, since we neuer haue regard thereof, vntil we haue lost it.

Plutarch, Plini, Nigidius, Aristicus, Dioscorus, Plotinus, Nece­phalus, & with them many others, haue written great Bookes and treatises, how infirmities are to be cured, and how health is to be conserued. And (so God saue me) if they affirmed a troth in some things, in many other things they did but gesse, and other things not a few they dreamed. Béeleue me my Lord Duke, and bée out of doubt, for my part I doe fully bée­leue, and also I haue experimented, that to cure diseases and to conserue healths, there is no better thing, than to auoyd anger,Angers and excesse be no small enemies to health. and to eate of few meates. How great weale should it be for the body, and also for the souls, if we might passe our life without eating, and without anger? For meates do cor­rupt the humors, and anger doth cont [...]ne the bones. If men did not eat and would not be angrie, there shoulde be no cause to be sicke, and muche lesse of whom to complaine. For the whips that doe most scourge our miserable life, are ordinary excesse, and profound sadnesse. Experience teacheth vs euery daye, that the men that bée doltishe and ignorant, for the more part are alwayes strong, lustie, and in good healthe, and this is the reason: for that suche as they are, neither doe wea­ry them selues to obtaine honour, eyther doe féele what is shame, reproch, or dispite: the contrary of all this doth hap­pen to men that be wise, discrete, quicke witted, and of sharpe deuise: euerye one of which be not only grieued of that which [Page 137] is spoken vnto them, but also they growe sorowfull, for that they imagine what others do thinke. Ther be men that be so sharpe, and so ouersharpe or refined, that it séemeth little vn­to them to interprete wordes, but also they holde it for an of­fice to diuine thoughts: and their repaiment is, that by them selues always they goe discomforted, and with others euill lyked. I durst affirme, and in a maner sweare, that to bréed a sickenesse, and to daunger a mannes lyfe, there is no poyson of so daungerous infection, as is a profounde and déepe sor­row: for y^e miserable hart when he is sad, doth reioyce in we­ping, and takes ease in sighing. Let euery man speake what he thinketh good, for amōgst such as be discrete (and no fooles) without comparison they be more that grow sicke by anger they receyue, than of the meates they féede on. All day long wée sée no other thing, but that those men whiche be merrie and glad, be always fat, whole and well coloured, and those that be sadde and melancholike alwayes go heauie, sorowful, swollen, and of an euill colour. In these writings I confesse vnto you (my Lorde Duke, that the Ague that now I haue, was not of any meate that I had eaten, but of a certayne an­ger I had taken.

Your Lordship doth write that by sléeping vpon the groūd you haue taken a pestilente reume, I verily thynke, the greafe heate of this moneth of Auguste, hath bin the cause therof, whiche in myne opinion you ought not to vse, or coun­sell any other therevnto: For it is lesse euill to sweate with heate, than to cough with colde. To the rest which I vnder­stand by your letter, in desiring I should write some newes, it is sufficient for this tyme, that of this our Courte there bée few things to be trusted in paper,To manifest the secrets of Princes, is perillous. & much to be said in a mās eare. The thinges that appertaine vnto Princes and lordes of high estate, wée haue permission to conceyue them, and no licence to speake them: In the Courte and out of Courte, I haue séene many aduaunced by secrecie, and many shamed by want of silence. Your Lordship pardon for this tyme my pen, and when wée shall méete together, my toung shall sup­plie [Page 138] this present want. No more but that our Lord be youre protectour.

From Borgos the .15. of October, Anno .1523.

RIght magnificent & Christian knight, doth your honor thinke in your iudge­ment, that the answere I shall sende you, shall be as large as the letter you haue written vnto me? of a trouth it may not be so: for I am nowe come to that age, that nothing lyketh me, that I take in hand, either can I performe any thing that I would do. The many yeares, the cōtinual studies, & the great trauels y^t I haue pas­sed, haue made in me such impression, y^t now the eyes be tired with reading, the pulses with writing, the memorie with re­taining, and also the iudgemente with noting and compoun­ding. God knowes I would not boast my self therof, but in y^e end I can not but cōfesse it, which is, euery day I féele my self much more in age, and much lesse in abilitie: the more I wold dissemble, the more I would enable my self, the more I wold grow yong, the more tenderly I would deale with my selfe, I can not leaue to acknowledge, but that my sighte decreaseth, my memorie fayleth, my bodie goeth wearied, & the strength decayeth, and also my heares grow hoare. Oh my soule, what be all these things, but certaine cruell summoners, that cite my life to inhabite the sorowfull sepulture?

Epaminondas the Greke sayde, that vntill the age of thirtie yeares they ought to say vnto men, you are welcome, or you come in a good houre: bicause at that tyme they séeme to bée cōming into y^e world: from thirtie vntill fiftie, they ought to say, God keepe you, or stande in a good houre, bycause at that time they begin to haue some iudgement of the world: from fiftie yeares forwarde they ought to say vnto them, God speed you, or goe in a good hour, for from thence they go taking their [Page 139] their leaue of the world. In these repartments of Epaminon­das, it appertaineth not vnto your honour and mée, that wée come in a good houre, nor that we stande in a good houre: for we are now come to be of the number that go in a good houre, I beséech the redéemer of the worlde, that when we shal passe out of this worlde, we may depart in a good houre, take our leaue in a good houre, and that we goe in a good houre. For if it be muche requisite for vs to liue well, muche more it stan­deth vs vpon to finish well. I thought good to write vnto your Lordship all this, to the end, that if I shal answere you some­what short, ye haue me excused, and to hold me blamelesse.

But comming to the purpose, I say that I muche delighte to reade your letters, & on the other parte, I am ouercharged with your importunities: for alwayes you come to me with vnknowne demaunds, and right strange questions: you now sende mée a moste auncient Epitaph,An olde Epi­taph. that a certaine friende of yours hath brought from Rome, whiche hath waged with your honour a certain wager, that in all Spayn there shoulde not be a man which should haue skil to reade it, much lesse to vnderstand it: the letters of the Epitaph be these. R.R.R.T. S.D.D.R.R.R.F.F.F.F. Neyther did that Romane speake ac­cording to knowledge, eyther shall he winne his wager. For that notwithstanding they be moste obscure, and euery let­ter importe one worde, I will sende them so declared and so aptly distinguished, that he shall remayn confounded, and you win the wager. The case is thus.

Romulus raigning in Rome, and Ezechias in Iudea, there was a woman borne in Tarento, named Delphica, which was famous in hir life, and singular in the art of diuining. Amon­gest the Hebrues, such women were named Prophetesses, and amongste the Gentils, called Sibilles. Thys Sibill Delphica prophesied the destruction of Carthage, the prosperitie of Rome, the ruine of Capua, the glorie of Graecia, and the great pestilence of Italie: And for that the fame of this Sibill was spread thoroughoute the worlde: Kyng Romulus sente hir great presentes, made hir greate promises, and wrote to hir [Page 140] many letters, to remoue hir out of hir countreye, to lyue at Rome. Neyther for any intreatance they vsed with hir, or for any giftes they could sende hir, this Sibill at any tyme would leaue hir countrey, or come to dwell at Rome. The whiche Romulus perceiuing, determined in his owne person to goe sée hir, and with hir in certayne causes to communicate.

The secret that Romulus desired, was to vnderstand what Fortune was reserued for him, and what destenie the Citie of Rome should haue (whiche at that time king Romulus be­gan to buylde.) Answere better nor worse mighte the kyng receyue of that Sibille Delphica, but that she gaue him foure­téene letters written in certayne barkes of trées, (for that in those so auncient tymes they had not as then founde oute the manner to write in parchement, and muche lesse in pa­per) the secrete and misterie of which letters neither coulde King Romulus vnderstande, eyther woulde the woman de­clare the same. But so muche she did certifie him, that there was one to be borne, which should vnderstand and interprete those letters. King Romulus being returned vnto his Citie of Rome, commaunded those letters to be set in one of his Tem­ples, vnder greate and safe kéeping, vntill the tyme shoulde come, that the Goddes shoulde reueale them, or some other bée borne that shoulde vnderstande them. Foure hundreth thirtie seuen yeares those letters stoode hydden that no man coulde reade them, muche lesse vnderstand them, vntil there came to Rome an other Sibill, named Erithra, the whiche so clearely did declare, interprete, and expound them, as if she hir selfe and none other had composed them. The letters are but fouretéene, the whiche declared in Englishe, sayeth:

Romulus reygning, Rome triumphing, Sibill Delphica sayde, the kingdome of Rome shall perish by Sword, Fier, Hunger, and Colde. Let vs put the selfe same caracters of the letters, and the exposition in Latin vppon euery one of them, in the forme that the Sibill expounded them, whyche was as follo­weth.

[Page 141] R.Romulo R. Regnante, R. Roma T. Triumphante, S. Sibilla

D. Delphica D. Dixit, R. Regnum R. Romae R. Ruet

F. Ferro, F. Flamma,F. Fame, F. Frigore.

Sir, behold héere your letters expounded, your prophesies deuined, your Romane confounded, and also youre wager got­ten. And the reward shalbe, that (I ouer watching my selfe to séeke this history) your honour shall beare away the prayse of the aunswer. If he will more thorowly know of this history, let him come to séeke and reade Liuius, Vulpitius, Trebellius, Who dyd write the hi­storie of the, Sibils. and Pogius, whiche haue written of the antiquities of the Ro­mans, & the sayings of the Sibilles. No more, but that our Lord be your protector, and that he giue vs both his grace. Amen. Amen.

From Madrid the .xiij. of March. 1535.

MAgnificent and discrete Gentleman, your ser­uaunt Trusillo gaue me a letter of yours at the breaking vp of the counsell of the Inquisition: and to speake the troth, neither did he aduer­tise me from whome hée came, neither did I demaund him any question. To my iudgemēt the one did well, and the other did not erre: for he came wea­ried with trauell, and I came from the Counsel angred. The philosopher Mimus sayd, qui cū lasso fameli [...]o loquitur, rixam quae­rit: as if he should haue sayd: to talke with a man that is hun­grie, and to haue busines with him that is wearie, be great oc­casions to moue debate. For if at the time the hungrie would eate, or when the wearied would repose himselfe, and woulde séeke occasion of busines, he would giue the busines to Barra­bas, [Page 142] and the Author to Sathan. Experience doth teach vs, that at the present when a man is refreshed, forthwith he begins to talke: at the instant that a man doth eate or drinke, forth­with he beginneth to debate. And therfore we say, that then, (and not afore) it is an apt time to dispatch affaires. For other wise, it should be rather to importune, thā to dispatch. Sir, I say thus much for y^t you shal sée and also vnderstand, that it is verie conueniente for him that goeth in affaires, not onely to flée importunitie, but also that hée knowe to séeke oportu­nitie.

Syr, leauing this aparte, I giue you to vnderstande, that your importunities, & my muche businesse, haue bin together (by the eares:) the one procuring that I should condescende to your desire: the other resisting, that I could not do what you required: in such wise, that the cause why I haue not answe­red, is I can not, & also I will not: why I cannot answere, dyd proceed at that time, for y^t we toke order in the inquisition for the busines of witches in Nauerne: and that I woulde not, dyd rise, that you sent to demaund of me a thing so straunge, with the which (if you did take pleasure in reding) I receiued much offence, and also tired my selfe in séeking.

The declaratiō of which historie, that you sent to demand, I did well remember I had séene it, but I coulde not call to mynde in what booke I had red it, and therof we do not mar­uel, that do not deale with humain and diuine scriptures. For the diuine Plato saith, we should leaue to be men, and become Gods, if the memorie were able to retaine so muche as y^e eyes were able to reade and see. Although on the one parte I had great businesse, and on the other part was somwhat offended, yet always I left my affaires, and began to turne ouer my booke, to sée if I could finde out that historie, and remember y^e counterfait. And I thought good to take this trauell in hand, not only to accomplish your demaunde, but also to proue my abilitie.The historie of the man and the Lion. Sir, you write vnto mée, that in the Wardrobe of the great captain you sawe a riche cloth, which (they say) the Venetians had giuen him for a present, wherin was figured a [Page 143] man leading a Lyon, and a Lyon that went led and laden af­ter a man. Also you saye, that in the breast of the Lyon were written these wordes: Hic Leo est bospes huius hominis. In lyke maner was written in the breast of the man other wordes, which were: Hic homo est Medicus huius Leonis. The one and the other letters thus much did signifie: This Lion is the hoste of this man: and This man is Phisition or Chirurgian to this Lyon. Sir, you may well thinke somewhat at the straungenesse of the historie, since the maner of the paintyng séemeth so mon­strous: therefore I maruell not thoughe you desire to vnder­stande the same: notwithstanding, to finde it, was not a lit­tle painefull to me. It shall happen to this my letter, whiche I consent verie seldome vnto an other: that is, that it shal be somewhat long, & yet not tedious: for the historie is so plea­sant to hear, y^t the reader shalbe gréeued, for that it is no lōger.

Comming to the purpose, The good Titus Emperoure of Rome, (whiche was sonne to Vespasian, and brother to that e­uill Emperour Domitianus) commyng from the warres of Germanie, determined to celebrate in Rome the daye of his natiuitie in Campania. Amongste the Romaine Princes, thrée feastes of all other were moste celebrated, to witte, the daye wherein they were borne, the daye wherein their Fathers dyed, and the daye wherein they were created Emperours. The day of this Titus byrth béeing come, he or­dained to make great feasts to the Senate, and to distribute gifts among the people. For in great disportes and feasts, al­wayes the Romaine Princes didde feaste the myghtye, and gaue rewarde to the poore. A thyng worthye to bée noted, and also vnto memorye to bée commended, that in the great feastes and triumphes of Ianus, of Mars, of Mercurie, of Iu­piter, of Venus, and of Berecinthia, they dyd not boaste, ney­ther estéeme suche feastes to be solemne, great, or duly solem­nised, by the costes that were spent, either by the shewes and triumphs that therein were represented: but by the number of rewards and liberall giftes that there were giuen.Great libera­litie vsed in feastes. The Emperour Titus commaunded to be brought for that feaste [Page 144] many Lions, Beares, great Harts, Onchas, Vnicorns, Grif­fins, Bulles, Bores, Wolues, Camelles, Elephants, and e­ther many maruelous cruell beasts, which for the more part be bred in the deserts of Aegypt, and in the edge of the moun­tayne Caucasus. Many dayes before, the Emperour had com­maunded that they should reserue all théeues, and robbers by highwayes, murderers, periured persons, traytors, quarel­lers, and rebelles: to the end that on that day they shoulde en­ter into listes, to chase and fight with the beasts, in such wise, that the chastisements of malefactors shoulde be perfourmed by the same beasts. The order that he vsed herein was, that the wretched men should be put within the greate Colledge, and those cruell beasts should come foorth to fight against thē, all the people standing to behold, and none to help. And if it hapned the beasts to teare the man in péeces, there he payde his det: but if the man kild the beast, by iustice they could not put him to death. Amongst other beasts that they brought vn­to that feast, there was a Lion whiche they had taken in the deserts of Aegypt, which was mightie of body, of great age, of aspect terrible, in fighting cruell, and in his yelles and cries very horrible. This most cruell Lion walking in the chase all imbrued (for at that time he had slayne and torne to péeces xv. men) they determined to cast vnto him a fugitiue slaue, to the intent he should kill and eate him, and therevpon to quiet his rauenous furie. A maruellous thing it was to heare, and fearefull to sée,Did acquain­tance renued betwene a mā and a Lyon. that at the very instant they cast the slaue in the chase to the Lion, he did not onely refuse to deuoure him, but also hasted not to touche him, but rather went vnto him and lickt his handes, fauned with his tayle, helde downe hys head, and couched downe vpon the ground, shewing signes of old acquaintāce, and that he was in his det and beholding vn­to him. The slaue, séeing the fawnings and the curtesies that the Lion vsed with him, cast himselfe downe vpon the groūd, and créeping to the Lion, and the Lion comming to the slaue, they began one to imbrace the other, and to faune as mē that had bin of old acquaintāce, that had not séene in many yéeres. [Page 145] To sée a thing so monstrous and strange at the sodain, (which the eyes of man had neuer séene, neither in old Bookes had e­uer bin read) the good Emperour Titus was amased, and all the Romane people grewe astonied: and did not presently i­magine that the man and the Lion had bin of olde acquain­tance, and there knew ech other: but that the slaue shoulde be a nigromantike, and had inchaunted the Lion. And after the Lion and the slaue had played together, renued their olde ac­quaintance, and the people of Rome beholding a greate space, the Emperour Titus commaunded the slaue to be cald before him, the which comming to accomplish his commaundemēt, the cruell Lion came after him, so quiet and so gentle, as if it had bin a house lamb brought vp by hand. The Emperour Titus said vnto him these words: tell me man what art thou, of whence art thou, what is thy name,The Empe­rour Titus talketh with a slaue. to whome didst thou belong, what hast thou done, what offence hast thou commit­ted, wherefore wast thou brought hither and cast vntoo the beastes? may it happen that thou hast bred this most cruell Lion, or hast thou known him by chaunce in times past? wast thou present when he was taken, or hast thou deliuered him from any mortall perill? (perchaunce thou art a Nigroman­tike, and hast enchaunted him.) I commaund thée that thou say vnto vs the truth, what hath passed, and deliuer vs of thys dout, for I sweare vnto thée by the immortall gods, this mat­ter is so mōstrous, & so strange, that it séemeth rather that we dreame it, than behold it. With a good courage, & with a hygh cleare voyce, the slaue made aunswer to the Emperour Titus as followeth, the Lion being layd at his foote, and all the peo­ple in admiration.

From To­ledo the .25. of August. 1529.

REnoumed Lord and Christian knight Gonsalus of Vrena, your seruant & my friend, gaue me a letter frō your lord­ship, by y^e which you maintain against me a certain greate cōplaynt, saying that it is a yere past since I haue not séene you, and six monethes wherein I haue not written vnto you. Syr, I am so busyed and of my naturall condition so solitarie, [Page 153] that it is painfull vnto me to visite, and no lesse tedious to be visited: not bycause they doe visit me, but for that they let and hinder me. The diuine Plato said, quòd amici sunt fures temporis, whiche is to saye, that friends are stealers of tyme, wherein he sayed troth. For there be friends so importune in visiting, and so tedious in communication, that the time is more euill employed that is lost with them, than the goods that theeues steale from vs.

We Courtiers be much combred with tediousnes whiche in the court our friends doe vse with vs, that sit downe by great leasure, and doe settle them selues in a chayre, not to aske any case of conscience, or to talke any thing of holy scrip­ture, but to murmur, saying, that the King doth not firme,Of what things they murmur in the Court. the Counsell doth not dispatch, the Paymasters doe delay, the priuat doe commaund, the Bishops bée not resident, the Se­cretaries rob, the Iustices dissemble, the Officers compoūd, the Gentlemen play, and the women go at large. Thinke you Sir, that a man learned, giuen to reading, solitary and busied, doth not more loose tyme in hearing these newes, than to cure an infirmitie with euill diet: to haue delight in mur­muring, he must be ill tongued that talketh: of lend dispositiō, and of euill condicion, that delighteth therein. They say that the good Marques of Santillana vsed to saye, that euill tongs and euill eares did frame pleasant murmurings. There be so many men in this Court loytering, superfluous, idle,Who be great murmurers. vaga­rant and euill tonged, that if Laurence Temporall bée so great workman in refining clothes, as they bée in shearing their neighbours liues, we maye boldly giue more for the refining of cloth of Segeuia, than for the cloth in Graine of Florencia.

My Lord, I saye all this to the ende you haue me excused for my want of diligence, and also to giue you to vnderstand of my condicion, the whiche stretched no farther with his friendes, than to make them aunswere to their letters, and that sometime I write vnto them. Before all things I am right glad of the sentence gyuen on your Lordships behalfe, wherin they haue entituled you with Towne of Duennas, and [Page 154] the Earldome of Buendia, in whiche I beséeche God giue you many yeares of fruition, and children to inherit. For it is no small sorrowe to sée strange childrē inherit our proper sweat.

Your Lordship doth write vnto me in your letter, that I pray vnto God to giue you grace, as well to saue you, as also to gouerne this estate: whereunto I aunswere, as also vnto them of the Towne of Duennas: great is the mischance, if they should not bée better intreated than my sacrifice of God aceepted. Do you not thinke that I being a sinfull man, a re­ligious sinner, and a Courtlike sinner, shall not haue ynough to pray for myne own sinnes, but that I must burdē my selfe with you? Much is God pleased with the prayer of the iust, but much more he doth delight in the amendment of the sin­ner: for it doth litle profit for the one to augment his prayers, if the other do not diminishe his sinnes. If you will gouerne this Earledome very well, begin the gubernation in youre selfe: for it is impossible for him to vnderstand to gouerne the common wealth, that doth not know to rule his owne house, or order his owne person: when the Lorde is milde, honest, chast,The order of the noble or gentlemans house. sober, silent, patient, and deuout: all his housholde and common wealth be likewise affected: and if by chaunce there be any seruaunts absolute or dissolute, they must be hidden and withdrawen, which to the Lord is no small glory: for hée doth not little, y^t taketh holdnesse from any man in his house to be euill. In the houses where Lordes are ambitious, rashe, quarelling, lyars, gluttons, gamsters, infamous, and leche­rous: what steward may bring to passe that the seruants bée honest, seeing they do not, but what their maisters do allowe, and likewise do. The wordes of Lords be fearfull, but theyr good works do animate: and I say it to this end: for their ser­uaunts and vassalles do rather imitate the works they sée thē do, than the words they heare them speake.

The charge that a Bishop hath of his housholde and Dio­cesse, the same hath a Gentleman of his seruants. For, it is not sufficient that a master or Lorde pay his seruants what is dew, but that they make them also do their dutie: it is a la­mentable [Page 155] thing to sée; that a mother shall send hir sonne to the house of Gentleman clad, shod, shamefast, honest, solitarie, well mannered, and deuoute, and at the yeares end, the poore yong man shall returne ragged bare legged, dissolute, a glut­ton, a dice player, a liar, and a quarreller, in such wise, that it had bin lesse euill to haue had him dead, than sent to such pal­lace or Court. Let the conclusion of this case be, that in suche maner you order your life and gouerne your house, that your owne may haue to follow, and straungers to prayse.

From Valiodolid the thirde of Nouember.

MOste renoumed Lorde and great Admirall, I assure you, I maye firmely aduouche vnto your honour, that at the instant, there was not anye thyng farther oute of my mynde, than was your letter when I sawe it enter into my Cell: and incontinente I imagined with my selfe, that you wrote vnto mée some iest, or sent vn­to me to declare some doubt.

The harte of man is moste excellēt in his kynde.To the very like purpose the diuine Plato did say, that such is the excellencie of the heart, aboue all the other membres of man, that many tymes the eyes be deceiued in the things [Page 169] they sée: and the hart doth not erre in that it doth imagin. The Consul Silla, when he sawe Iulius Caesar being a yong man e­uill trussed, and worse girt: (for whiche cause many did iudge him to be negligent, and also doltish) sayd vnto all those of his band, beware of that il girt youth: that although he appeareth to be such, yet this is he that shall tirannise the Citie of Rome, and be the ruine of my house. Plutarch in the life of Marcus Antonius recounteth of a certaine Gréeke named Ptolomeus: which being demaunded wherefore he did not talke, or was conuersant with any man in all Athens, but with the yong man Alcibiades? answered, bycause my hart giueth me, that this yong man shall set Greece on fire, and defame all Asia. The good Emperour Traiane sayd, that he was neuer deceyued in choosing fréends, and in knowing of enemies: for presently his hart did aduertise him, to whome he shoulde repaire, and of whome he should beware. And if we well consider the fore­sayd: neither the hart of Silla was deceyued in that he propbe­sied of Iulius Caesar, neyther the Art of Ptolomeus did erre in that he diuined of Alcibiades: bycause the one depriued Rome of hir libertie, and the other darkned the glory of Greece. Thus much I thought to saye vnto youre Lordship, to the ende you might sée, how my hart was not deceiued in diuining what you had written, and also what you craued.

I may very well say, that sometimes your Lordship wri­teth me some iests that makes me mery: and sometimes you demaund questiōs, that makes me watch: for your Lordship hath your iudgement so cleare, your memorie so readye,Commēdable qualities. the Scripture so prompt, the time so disposed, and aboue all great swiftnesse in writing, and much vse in reading: that you doe me great gréefe to importunate me so often to declare that which you vnderstande not, and to séeke out that whiche you may not finde, to expound as I did the verses of Homer, too de­clare the life of Antigonus, to search you the historie of Methi­ados the Thebane, to relate you the Ceruatica of Sertorius, you haue iudged to be don in maner without trauel: but I sweare by the law of an honest man, I was ouer watched in séeking, [Page 170] spent in disposing, and tried in writing it. Many other Lords of this kingdome, and also out of the same do write vnto mée, and craue that I declare them some doutes, and send thē some histories: which doutes and demaundes be all plaine and ea­sie, and at thrée turnes, I finde them amongst my writings: but your Lordship is such a frend of nouelties as always you aske me histories so straunge and peregrine, that my wittes may not in any wise but néedes go on pilgrimage. My Lord comming, to the purpose, you say that the Earle of Mi­randa did write vnto you, that eleuen dayes before the good Constable Sir Ynnigo of Velasco died, he hard me say and cer­tifie that he shoulde die, the whiche as I then spake, so after­wards it came to passe, but I would not declare vnto him, by what meane I vnderstood it.

Youre Lordships pleasure is, that I shoulde write vntoo you, whether I did speake it in earnest or in iest: or if I sawe in the sickeman any prognostication, or if I knewe in thys matter any great secret: the which I will discouer vnto you, if you promise me to kéepe it secret, and that vnto me thereof you be not ingrate. The truth is, I sayd it to the Earle of Mi­randa, and also to the Doctour Carthagna: neyther did I know it by reuelation as a Prophet, either did I obtayne it in Cir­cle as a Nigromanticke, either did I finde it in Ptolomeus as an Astronomer, nor vnderstand by the pulse as a Phisition, but I found it as a Philosopher: for that the good Constable did then goe in the yeare Climatike.A notable se­cret in the yere climatik. At the present I vnder­stood the Constable to be sick, I demaunded how old he was, and when they answered that he was thrée score and thrée, I sayde his life was in great perill, for that he was then in the most daungerous yeare to die.

For the vnderstanding hereof it is to wit, that all the lyfe of man is like a long & a perillous sicknes, wherin the seuēth and the ninth day is muche to be noted, for that in those cre­tick dayes, the sick do mend or grow worse. That whiche the Phisition dothe call Terme in the sick man, is called in the whole by the Philosopher Climate: and from thence it is, that [Page 171] from seuen to seuen yeares, and from nine to nine yeares, mē do chaunge their complexions, and also many times theyr conditions. That this is true, it clearely appeareth, in that the man which is now flegmaticke, we sée him turne cholerike, the furious to be milde, the prosperous to be vnfortunate, and also he that is wise remoue to be foolish. All whych com­meth to passe, that after seuen or nine yeares, they haue chaunged as we haue sayde their conditions, and also theyr complexions. Also it is to be vnderstoode, that in all the dis­course of oure lyfe, we onely lyue vnder one onely climat, the which is seuen, or nine yeares: except in the yeare of thrée­score and thrée, in the which two termes of two climats doe ioyne, which is to witte, nine seuens, or seuen nines: because nine times seuen, and seuen times nine, be thréescore and thrée yeares, and therefore in that yeare many olde men dye. Those that come to the yeare of thrée score and thrée,A perillous time for old men. oughte to lyue in very good order, and to walke very warely: because that yere is so perillous, that none passeth the same without suffering some daunger. Many and very notable men (in time past, and also present) died in that yeare of thréescore and thrée. More and ioyntly with this I saye, that the sonne that shall sée his Father passe this terme, let him not hope so soone to sée him die: neyther as yet to inherite.

The Romaine and Greeke Princes, after they sawe them­selues escaped the yeare, théescore and thrée, they gaue greate gifts vnto their people, and also offered no small offerings in their Temples: as it is read of the Emperour Octauius, the Emperour Antonie the méeke, & the good Alexander Seuerus.

I thought good to giue a reckoning vnto your honor of this historie: or to say better, of this philosophie: because you maye vnderstand how I did diuine the death of the good Constable of Castile: which all we his friends and louers did sée, within the yeare sixtie thrée to begin to be sicke: and also to make and to dye. Of all the great-states of this kingdome, I holde some for kinsmen, others my good Lordes, some for neigh­bours, and others for aquainted: but amongst them all, I [Page 172] held him for my singuler good Lord and friend, for that I foūd him of a very good conuersation, and of a sounde condition. The good Constable was milde in commaunding, iust in go­uerning,Notable con­ditions of a noble man. wise in spéeche, large in expence, valiant in battell, méeke in pardoning, and a very good Christian in liuing. For that your Lordship and he were captaynes in the warre, and Viceroys in time of peace: you will not denie that whiche I say to be very true, although I leaue of him much more to be said. When you gaue and also ouercame the battell of Reni­ega neare vnto Pampalona, I do remember, that I comming vnto your honour to confirme two billes, the one as concer­ning Iustice, the other for goodes: your Lordship sayde vntoo me these words: with me (father master) you haue framed and brought to passe, that I will do what you will, and con­firme what you demaund: but it is necessary, that firste you informe the Constable of the case, and make relation vntoo him of the qualitie of the matter, for that he is very much ad­uised in the distribution of goodes, and very scrupulous in matters of Iustice. The good Constable had with me very great familiaritie, and I with him inuiolable friendship, and vpon this foundation he did alwayes communicate with me matters of conscience, and discharges of his goodes, wherein alwayes I did know of hym, that he did procure to do well, and did shunne and auoyde to offende, I knowe not what to write more in this matter vnto your Lordship, but that the good Constable (if he finished his life here in Madrid) at the least in my chronicle his memorie shall remayne immortall.

From Madrid the xv. of October .1529.

RIght renowmed Lord and Archmariner, great be the complaints that your Honor sendeth me in this your last letter: the one for that I haue not answered thys [Page 173] yeare vnto youre writing: and the other, bycause I haue not sent your doubt absolued. The truth knowen and the certain­tie vnderstood, neyther shall I be blamed, or you remaine of­fended. The very truth that hath passed in this matter is, that as they haue stolen from Mansilla your seruant his horse, and he played away al his money that he brought by the way (in séeking to borow, to pay at his lodging) he forgat with me to take order for his answere. Since I read youre letters with a very good will, and presently forthwith did put my self in studie for your doubts, it is not iust that faulte to be impu­ted vnto me, if youre seruantes be forgetfull to take their an­swer. Oftentimes I was both ashamed and also offended, to sée your letters come so bitter and so cholerike: that of a troth to shew so much anger, and to write so heauie or leadenlike, youre Lordship had no occasion, and muche lesse any reason. But as your body is little, and your hart excéeding the same, by a third or fift: if you giue him place to speake what he wil, and that he complayne what he féeleth, beléeue me my Lorde and be out of doubt, you shall liue in your selfe payned and discontented, and of others not welbeloued.

The great and mightie Lords,A lesson for Lords. ought of nothing more too presume or boast themselues, than to haue great harts, which they ought to inioy, (if they will imploy them well,) in mo­derating themselues in great prosperities, and not to be dis­maied in their great aduersities. My iudgement is, since your Lordship is naturally cholerike, and of small patience, that you giue not your selfe to write when you be distempered: for men do write many times in their choler, whiche after­wards they would not should haue passed (so much as) their thoughts. To the argument whiche you alledge that I estée­med you but little bycause I wold not answer presently: this I answere, I deny the premises, and defye the consequence: bicause your Lordship hath much, may do muche, deserueth much, and therefore we all estéeme you very muche. For me to be ignorant of the great estate of your persone, of bloud so vnspotted, of iudgement so delicate, in letters of so great ex­ercise, [Page 174] and of so greate dexteritie in armes: the cause were to great foolishnesse, or to much lacke of wit. But let the cace rest, let vs deuide all this vnkindnesse amongst vs, whiche is to wit, that your Lordship from hence forward deferre or put off your choler, pardon Mansilla for forgetting his letter: and also kind me to expound your doubts: and after this ma­ner we will giue amends to that which is past, and vse silēce for the time to come.

Your honour demaundeth, that I declare, wherefore the Patriarch Abraham in the vale of Mambre, The expositiō of the text. and the Prophete Ezechiel neare vnto the riuer Cobar, as holy scripture saith of them, fell to the ground vpon their faces: and contrariwise, Heli the Prophet, and the Iewes that tooke Christe, fell back­wards Your Lordship hath to consider, that it is not so light or easie whiche you doubt of, for if I be not deceyued, it is a question that few men do moue, and in a manner none dothe expound. For notwithstanding I haue séene much, and read much, I can not remember me to haue considered or doub­ted, neither at anytime to haue preached thereof: I dare bée bold to say, that by these two maners of fallings, the one back wards, and the other forwards, do signifie two kindes of sin­ning. For euen as to fall after the one manner or the other, in the end all is falling: so in like manner, to sinne after the one sort or the other, all is sinning. Those that do fall vppon the backe, and backwards, we sée them haue their faces disco­uered,To be asha­med of sinne, is hope of amēd­ment. and looking vp to heauen: by these are to be vnderstood: those which do sinne without the feare of God, & afterwardes haue no shame to haue sinned. We sée by experience that he that falleth forwardes, may helpe hym selfe to rise with hys hands, with hys elbowes, with his knées, and with hys féete: by this I woulde say, that then we haue hope to come out of sinne, when we shall be ashamed to haue sinned. The contrary happeneth in him that falleth backwards, y^t whych can neuer help him selfe with his handes, or lift him selfe, or stay with his féete. By this I would say, that the man that is not ashamed to be a sinner, late or neuer shall we sée hym [Page 175] come out of sinne.

Plutarch and Aulus Gellius doe saye, that no yong man of Rome might enter amongst the common women, but wyth their faces very wel couered. If ther hapned any so vnshame-fast that durst enter or come foorth discouered: so openly was he chastised, as if he had committed some forcible adultery. It is to be noted, that all those that fell forward were saints: as Abraham and Ezechiel: and on the contrary, those that fell backwardes, as Hely the priest of the temple, and the Iewes that sold Christ were sinners. Out of all this there may bée gathered, how much, and how greatly we haue to regard, not only that we fall, either so much as to stumble: for we knowe not whether we shall fall forward as Abraham, or backward as the vnfortunate Hely. Considering we discend of sinners, liue amongst sinners, be conuersant amongst sinners, and this world being in so great want of iust men, we cannot de­liuer our selues from all sinnes: ioyntly therefore with thys let vs pray vnto the Lord, that if he take away his grace, that we do fall, that he take not away shamefastnesse wherewith to arise. Much is God offended with vs to sée how little we estéeme to sinne, but he is muche more offended to sée howe slowly we remember to repent: for they be very few that do leaue to sinne, but at the time when they cannot more sinne. Oh how many moe be they that fal backward with Hely, thā forward with Abraham: for if there be one that is ashamed of sinne, there is an hundreth that account sinne but pastime. Let euery man estéeme himselfe as he list, and let euery man say what he supposeth:No greter sin­ner than he that presu­meth to be good. but for my part I hold none for a grea­ter sinner, than he that accompts himselfe for very iust: ney­ther do I conceyue for very iust, but he that acknowledgeth himselfe to be a great sinner. God doth well knowe what wee can do, and he vnderstandeth very well the strength that we haue: and thereof it is, that he is not offended for that we bée not iust, but bycause we doe not confesse to be sinners. I re­turne to say, that God doth not maruell that we be humane in sinning, but y^t which doth offēd him is, for that being as we [Page 176] are so great sinners, we would well make the world beléeue that we be very iust. Let the conclusiō be in this matter, that they only fall backwards with Hely, and with the Hebrewes, that so without remorse sit downe to sinne, as they would sit downe to eate, and lie downe to sléepe. Of that whiche I doe most maruell in this matter is, that being as we are fallen into most grieuous sinnes, we do so liue, and go so contented, as though we had receyued of God a safeconduit to be saued. Behold here my Lord your letter answered. Beholde youre doubt absolued. Beholde here my fault excused. And also be­hold here your choler remoued. No more but that our Lorde giue you his grace, and vnto me his glory.

From Madrid the xj. of Nouember. 1528.

MOst reuerend, and blessed Abbot, in the ele­uenth Calends of May, your Monke brother Roger gaue me a letter of yours, which I re­ceyued with gladnesse, and read with plea­sure, for that it was from your fatherhoode, and brought by the hands of that graue Fa­ther. Of Aurelianus the Emperour it is read, that the letters which Domitius sent vnto him were so tedious, that he heard them, but did not answer them: and the letters that the Cen­sor Turinus sent him, he himselfe did read them, and with his owne hand aunswered them. Of a troth there be men so te­dious in their spéech, and so without grace in writing, that a man would rather be sicke of a feuer, than heare their talke, either reade their letters.

No man, of any man ought to maruell, since men be so di­uers in complexion, and so variable in condition, that many times against our will the hart doth loue which were muche better to be abhorred, and doth abhorre that which were bet­ter [Page 177] to be beloued. I say this father Abbot, to the ende you shall vnderstand, that as oft as they say, here is one of Monseratte, my heart reioyceth to heare some newes from thēce, and the eyes he quickened in readyng your letters.

Father you write vnto me, that I aduertise you, if in the olde tyme amongest the Gentiles were vsed holy Oratories: as nowe is vsed amongst the Christians: to which demaund I wil say what I haue read,Oracles of old time. and that which presently I do re­mēber. The oracle of the Scicilians was Libeus, the Oracle of y^e Rodes was Ceres, the oracle of the Ephesians was the greate Diana, the Oracle of the Palestines was Belus, the Oracle of the Argiues was Delphos, the oracle of the Numidians was Iu­no, the Oracle of the Romains was Berecinthia, the oracle of the Thebans was Venus, the oracle of the Spanyards was Pro­serpina, (whose temple stood in Cantabria, which is now called Nauara.) That which the Christians do now call Hermitage, the Gentils did name Oracle. This Oracle stode always di­stant from the Cities, and holden in very great veneration. There was always in the Temple one priest alone, it was well repaired, well lockte, and well indued, and those that went thither on stations, they might only kisse the walles, & also from the dores behold, but within they might not enter, except ordinarie priests, and strange Embassadors. Nere vn­ [...] the Oracle, they plāted trées, within alwais oyle did burn: the couering was all of lead to defende the raine: at the doore there stoode an Idoll the which they did kisse: they had there a certaine hollowe trunke where they did offer, and an house buylded where they lodged.

Plutarch doth much praise the Emperor Alexander the great for that in all the kingdomes he conquered, and in all the pro­uinces that he subdued, he commaunded solemne Temples to bée made to praye in, and Oracles farre distant to visite.Antigonus to be noted. The king Antigonus that was page to the Emperour Alex­ander, and father of king Demetrius, (althoughe they repre­hend him to be absolute in gouernement, and dissolute in ma­ners, the Historiographers do much praise him, bicause eue­ry [Page 178] wéeke he went once into the Temple, and euery moneth did sleepe one night to the Oracle. The Senate of Athens did muche more honour vnto the dinure Plato after his death, than they did when he was liuing: and the cause therof was, for that the good Plato, when he was wearie of reading and stu­dying, did withdraw himself to liue, and also to dye neere vn­to a certaine deuoute Oracle, wherin he was afterwards bu­ried, and as God adorned. Archidamas the Greeke, that was sonne to Agesilaus, after hée had gouerned the cōmon wealth of Athens .22. yeares, & had ouercome by sea & by land ten bat­tailes, he cōmaunded to he made in the most sharpe mountai­nes of Argos a most solemne oracle, wherein Archidamas did ende his lyfe, and also for himselfe did choose a sepulchre. A­mongst all the oratories that of olde they had in Asia, the most famous was the Oracle of Delphos: for to that place from all partes of the worlde they did concurre, and thither did carye moste presentes, and there made moste vowes, and also from thence of their Goddes receyued most answeres.

When Camillus ouercame the Samnits, the Romans made a vow, to make an image of gold to send to y^e Oracle, for which purpose the matrons of Rome, gaue their cholers, their rings, their bracelets, and their eare rings from their persons, for which liberalitie they were greatly honored and largely pri­uiledged. I haue sayd all this Father Abbotte, to the end y [...] shall vnderstand, that it is no new thing in this world to haue amongst the people temples and hermitages. The difference betwixt ours and theirs, is: that those Oracles men haue ap­poynted, but our sanctuaries God doth choose, whereof there followeth great vtilitie, and no small securitie: for that in the place that of God is chosen, wée may praye withoute any scruple. I doe remember I haue bene at oure Ladies of Lorito, of Gadalupe, del a penia de Francie, del a Hoz de Se­gouia, y de Balunera, the which house and sanctuaries be all of much praier & admiration: but for my contēt & my conditi­on, our Ladie of the craggy Rocke, I finde it to be a buildyng [Page 179] of admiration, a temple of prayer, and a house of deuotion. Father Abbot I assure you of a troth, I did neuer sée my selfe amongst those sharpe crags, amongst those high mountains, amongst those cruell rocks, & amongst those thick woods, that I did not purpose to be an other, that I did not sorow for time past, and that I did not abhorre libertie, & did loue to be alone. I did neuer passe by craggie moone that forthwith I was not contrite, that I was not repentant at great leysure, that I did not celebrate with teares, that I did not watche one nyghte, that I gaue not to the poore: & aboue all, that I did not fill my selfe with sighing, and purpose to amend. Or that it pleased the God of heauen that I were suche here, and in my whole lyfe, as I haue purposed to bee when I was there. The more I goe laden with dayes, the more dull I féele my selfe in ver­tues, & which is worst of al, that in good desires I am a saint, and in dooing good works I am a sinner, preaching as I doe preach, that heauen is full of good works, & hell is full of good thoughts. I knowe not whether they be my frendes that doe counsel me, parents that doth importune me, enimies that do direct me, businesse that doth hinder me, Caesar that withoute ceasing commaundes me, or the diuell that temptes me. The more I doe purpose to parte from the worlde, more and more I fynde my selfe sinkyng to the bottome thereof. The trouth is, that the lyfe of the Courte, is verie pleasaunte for such as haue an appetite therto: for there we suffer hunger, colde, thirste, wearynesse, pouertie, sorrowe, angers, disfa­uours and persecutions: all whyche be tollerable and verie easy to be suffered: for there is none that dothe hynder oure libertie, neyther taketh reckening of our ydlenesse. Beléeue mée father Abbotte, and be oute of doubte, for the soule and also for the bodye, your lyfe is muche better there at Craggye Mounte, than this that wée leade héere at Courte: for the Courte serueth better to heare newes thereof, than to ex­perimente the things that passeth therin. In the Courte he that may doe little is soone forgotten, and hée that hath some­what, [Page 180] is pursued. In the court the poore hath not to care, and the riche can not help himself. In the Court they be few that liue contented, and many that be abhorred. In the Court all procure to be in fauour and authoritie, and in the end one on­ly doth commaunde. In the Court none hath desire there to die, notwithstanding we see not any that will departe from thence. In the Court we see many doe what they [...]t, but ve­ry fewe what is méete, In the Courte all doe blaspheme the court, notwithstanding all follow the court. Finally, I say and affirme that which I haue said and preached, whiche is, that the Court is not but for men that be priuate and in fa­uour, that can gather the frute therof: and for yong men that haue no feeling thereof. It with these conditions (Father Ab­bot) you will come and dwell at Court, from hencefoorth I make exchaunge for your craggy mount, and also doe promise you by the faith of a Christian, you shall more repent you to haue bin conuerted a courtier, than I to be admitted of the re­ligion of S. Benet. For the much good will I beare you, for the much deuotion I hold of that place, you are bound to pray vnto God,Gods grace doth only saue vs. that he will draw me from this infamous life, and fight me with his grace, without the whiche we cannot serue hym, and much lesse be saued. By the handes of Frier Roger I haue receyued the spoones you sent me, and to him I deliuered the booke that he desired me: in such wise, that I shall haue spoones to eate with, and your fatherhod a booke to pray in. In the rest that you write, as concerning your Monasterie, the cace shall be, that you deale with God for me, as one that is deuoute, and I shall do with Caesar the worke of a friend. No more, but that our Lorde be your protector.

From Valiodolid the vij. of Ian. 1535.

GLorious and right famous Archmarriner, I am deter­mined before y^e Iudge Ronquillo to adiorne your Lord­ship, to the end that the parties called and hearde, hée [Page 181] he iudge and giue sentence betwixte vs, whether I, being as I am a Gentleman, and a Courtier, be bound to answere Extempore, vnto all your Letters: and to expounde all doub­tes, which your honour so continually writeth vnto me. Your sollicitor is so importunate for answere (I confesse) that ma­ny tymes I giue the seruaunt to the Deuil, and also at some­time, I pray not vnto God for the maister.

Complayning yesterdaye vnto your solicitour, for that he was so tedious, and bicause so continually he did moue me, he made me answer with a verie good grace. Consider sir master I giue you to vnderstande, that the Admirall (my Lorde) cra­ueth of your reuerence, that you write vnto him as a friend, that you send him newes as a Chronicler, declare his doubtes as a Diuine, and counsell his conscience as a Religious. Whervnto I replyed, if your maister the Admirall will be well serued, also I wil be wel payed. The paiment shal be, for the office of Chronicler, of a diuine, of a friend, and of a Coun­seller: that since I cānot get my meat with the laūce, I must obtayn it with the pen. I made al this threatening, not to the intente your Lordship shall giue me to eate, but for that you should cease to be importune: for I thank God,A benefit due to suche as serue princes. the Emperour (that is my lord and maister) hath not onely giuen mée that whiche is necessarie, but also wherewith to reliene others. The benefit that we haue (that attend vpon Princes) is, that if we be bound to serue them, we haue alwais licēce to craue of them, but let the conclusion be, that with the same inten­tion that I did speake those wordes here, it may please your Lordship to receiue them there: that in fine & in the end, chide we neuer so much, or be we neuer so angrie, you must nedes do what I desire you: and I must of necessitie doe what you commaunde me.

Your Lordships pleasure is, that I write vnto you, howe that texte is to be vnderstoode of Esaias, where he sayeth, Vae tibi Ierusalem, quia bibisti calicem irae Dei vsque ad feces: Whiche woordes are to bée vnderstoode: wo be vnto thée Ierusalem, bycause thou hast dronke the cuppe of the Lords wrath, euen [Page 182] to the dregs. Your lordship asketh a matter so high, & a thing so profound, that I had rather vnderstand than speak it, tast it than write it: for they know more therof that be giuē to con­templation, than such as be occupied in reading: but this is the doubt. Since God the father did send to Christ his son, a cup to drinke of bitternesse: wherof is Ierusalem reprehended, for the cup that she drank of wrath? the one was the cup, the o­ther was the cup: the one of bitternesse, the other of wrathe: the Synagogue did receyue the one, and the Churche the other: Christe dyd drinke the one, Ierusalem dyd drynke the other: God sent the one, and God sent the other. But since it is so, why doe they so muche prayse the cuppe that Christe tasted of, and condemne the sorrowfull cuppe that Ierusa­lem dyd drinke?

To vnderstand the profunditie of this scripture, we muste presuppose, that there be two maners of cuppes, which is to wit, the cup that is sayd simply only of God, and the cup that is sayd with an addition, that is, of the ire of God. There is so great difference betwixt these two cuppes, that in the one we drink heauen, in the other we swalow hell: the holy cup of God is no other thing but temptations, hunger, cold, thirste, persecutions, exile, pouertie, and martirdom: of which thin­ges, God giues to drink and to tast, to such as he hathe chosen to serue him, and hath predestinate to be saued. Vnto whome God giueth this cup to drynke, it is a signe that he is regi­stred amongest them that shall be saued: in suche sorte that we can not escape Hell, but at the coste of verie great trauel. Profoundly it is to be considered what Christ sayde: that the cup should not only be giuen to his owne person, but that it shoulde also passe vnto his Church, in such wise that he drank thereof, but he made not an ende: for if Christ had dronke al the cuppe, only Christ should haue entred the glorie. And for this cause he prayed vnto his father that the cup shoulde passe vnto those of his Churche, for that we shoulde all enter with him into the glorie. Oh high misterie neuer heard of, y^t Christ being in the Garden, in the darke alone, flat vpon his knées, [Page 183] sweating, praying, and wéeping, he did not craue of hys Fa­ther, that the elect of his Church shuld be cherished or world­ly pampred, but of that cup he would giue them a draught to drinke. Of that cup of bitternesse and trauell, only Christ did drinke his fill: bicause he only was sufficient to redéeme vs. All we that came after Christ. If we cannot drinke our fill, I would to God we might drinke sufficient for our Saluation: the sword of saint Peter, the Crosse of saint Andrew, the knife of saint Bartelmew, the girdierne of S. Laurence, & the sheares of saint Steuen, what other things are they, but certaine bad­ges they haue receyued of Christe,Badges of Christ. and certaine gulpes they haue drunke of his cup. So many more degrées we shall re­ceiue in Heauen of Glorie, as we haue drunke of the cup of Christ in this life, and therefore we ought to pray vnto God euery day with teares, that if we cannot drinke all his cup, at the least that he will suffer vs to tast thereof. The cuppe of Christ (although it be bitter in drinking) after the drinking thereof, it doth greate profit: I would saye, that the trauells which we suffer to be good, they giue not so much paine when we endure them, as they afterwards giue pleasure, hauing passed them. Prouide who will of the wines of Illana, of the buttes of Candia, and of the pipes of Rebedew: but for my con­solation and saluation, I aske not of God, but that al the days that remaine of my life, he giue me leaue to drink if he please but one drop of his cup.

There is another Cup which is called the cup of y^e wrath of God: wherof to speake, the entrailes do open, the hart doth faile, the flesh doth tremble, and the eyes do wéepe: with thys God doth threaten vs, this is that whiche the Prophet spea­keth of: Of this the sorowfull Ierusalem did drinke: of this the vnfortunate Sinagogue did make hir selfe dronke. And the drunkennesse of this, was the cause that Israell was banished from Iudea, and translated into Babilon.

He drinketh of the cup of wrath, that falleth from the state of grace wherein he stood, wherof it foloweth that the soule is much more dead without grace, than a body without a soule. [Page 184] Then it is sayde that God is an angred,Withoute grace a soule is lyke a body without life. when he is carelesse of vs, and that day that we be forgetfull to feare him, and he not delighted to loue vs, and stumbling at euery steppe, in the end of the iorney we shall be condemned. Oh what diffe­rence there is in the wrath that men doe shewe, and in that wrath and yre, which is sayd to procéede from God: for when men be angry they reuenge, but God when he is angrie, hee ceaseth to chastise. In suche wise that God doth more chasten an euill man, when he deferreth & doth dissemble with hym, than when he doth presently torment him. There is not a greater temptation, than not to be tempted: there is no grea­ter trouble, than not to be troubled: there is not greater cha­stisement, than not to be chastised: neyther is there a greater whip, than not to be scourged of God. The sick man of whose helth the phisition dispaireth is in small hope of his life, I would say, that his sinne which God doth not chastise: I haue great suspition of his saluation.

It is much to be noted, that the Prophete dothe not onely threaten Ierusalem for that she did drinke the cuppe of wrath: but also bycause she did drink the grounds and dregs therof, vntill nothing was left: in suche wise, that if there had bin more, she woulde haue dronke more. To drinke of the cuppe vnto the dregges, is: that hauing offended God greeuously committing all manner of sinnes wickedly, forsaken some articles of the faith peruersely, and hauing sinned with al the members damnably: As if the commaundements being ten, had bin ten thousand, we had rather die than leaue any one of them disobeyed.

To drinke the Cup vnto the dregges, is when we be not contented with breaking of one commaundement or two or thrée, but that of force they must be broken al ten: to drinke y^e cup vnto the dregs, is: if we leaue to commit any sinnes, it is not for want of will, but for want of power, or for wante of occasion: to drinke the cup vnto the dregges is, that we doe not onely content our selues with sinning, but that we doe presume and boaste ourselues of oure sinning: to [Page 185] drinke the cuppe vnto the dregges is, committing as we doe all manner of sinnes, we can not suffer that they call vs sin­ners: to drinke the cup vnto the dregges is, to haue so greate vnshamefastnes in sinning, that we dare not entire and vrge others to sinne: to drinke the cup vnto the dregges is, to haue our desires like a saint, and our deserts like a deuill.

Behold here my Lorde Admirall, what I conceaue of that text of the Prophet, beholde here what I do thinke of youre doubt, and I beséech God our Lord that he being pleased, we may deserue to drinke of the cup that Christ did drinke of, and not of the cup that Ieremie doth write of. I write not vnto your lordship newes of the court as I was wont to write,To drinke of the one or of the other, great choyce is to be vsed. bi­cause it seemeth to commit treason vnto the holy Scripture, if we should place any profane things at the foote of so holy a matter. No more but that our Lord giue vs his grace.

From Madrid the xxv. of March.

VEry noble and refourmed knight, by y^e words of youre letter, I vnderstoode how quickly the medicine of my writing came to youre hart, and I do much reioyce to haue shotte at you with an arrow so inuenomed, that was suffi­cient to make you stagger: but not to strike you downe. Although in the other letter whiche I did write vnto you, it repented me to call you noble: now I holde it for very well imployed, in this letter to entitle you very noble, bycause you haue amended the abuse of your life, and answe­red according to your noblenesse.

Sir you write vnto me, that the words of my letter did pe­netrate your hart, and touch you to the quicke, and to say you [Page 186] the troth, I was right glad thereof: for I did not write it that you should onely reade it, but to the end you should cordially féele it. Iointly with this I promise you as a Gentlemā, and sweare vnto you as a Christian, that it was not my mea­ning when I did write vnto you to offend you, but to the in­tent to amend you. Also you say, that at the instant you read my letter you burned the tokens of your enamored, dyd teare the letters of loue, dispatch the page of messages, remoued all talke of youre loue, and gaue a quittance to the Pandor. I cannot but praise what you haue done, and much more will praise it when I shall sée you continue and perseuer in the same. For vices be so euill to be vnrooted where they once take place: that when we thinke they be all gone, in the house they remayne hidden. Sir I giue you great thankes for that you haue done, and also do craue pardon for that I haue said, although it be true, to sée you amended I do little estéeme that you be offended. For an vnkindnesse is sooner lost, than vice remoued.

Also you craue of me in your letter, that since I haue writ­ten you the conditions of an old man enamored, that I write also vnto you the conditions that a wise olde man ought too haue: bycause by the one may be knowne the shelfe that is to be shunned, and by the other the channell obtayned that is nauigable, wherein I delight to accomplish your request, and to write your desire: although it be true, that I knowe not, if my iudgement shall haue so delicate a vayne, and my pen so good a grace, in giuing counsell, as in reprehending. For there be many that in giuing counsell be very cold, but in speaking malicious taunts very skilfull. Sir, I will doe my indeuour to do and say the best I can, with an admonition that I gyue before all things vnto him that shall heare or reade the same, that he prepare, not to take so greate a tast in reading these counsels, as profit by vsing them.

The olde men of your age, they oughte to be so aduised in that they speake, and such examplers of that they do, that not only they are not to be séene to do euill works, either so much [Page 187] as to speake vnhonest words. For the olde man that is abso­lute and dissolute: is sufficiēt to corrupt or cast away a whole Towne or common wealth. The old men of your age:Rules for old men. ought to giue, not onely good examples, but also good counsell: for the inclination of the yong man is to erre and to varie, and the condition of the old man, ought to be to correct by discre­tion, and giue good counsell to amende. The old men of youre age: ought to be gentle, modest, and patiēt: for if in times past they were bréeders of discorde, now they ought to be makers of peace. The olde men of youre age ought to be masters of such as know little, and defenders of such as can do little, and if they may not giue them remedie, they leaue not to gyue them comfort. For the hart that is tormented, despited, and in great distresse, sometimes receyueth more comfort with the wordes which they speake, than with that whiche they giue them. The old men of youre age, now haue no time to be oc­cupied, but in visiting of hospitalles, and reléeuing the poore: for there may not be a thing more iust, than that, so many pa­ces as haue bin spent to brothel houses, should now be spent to visit Tēples. The old men of your age, ought not to be bu­sied, but in making their discharges when they be in y^e house, and to bewaile their sinnes when they go to Church: for hée standeth in great suertie of saluation, that in his life doth that he ought to do, and in his death what he can do.

The olde men of youre age ought to vse great measure in the words they speake, and pleasant breuitie in that they re­count, and also they ought to beware to tell newes, and much lesse to vse to relate fables: for in such a case, if they call yong men light and foolish, they wil say that old men dote and bab­ble. The old men of your age ought to be remoued from con­tentions, and from troubles in law, and if it be possible, to re­déeme them by the waight of money, to the end to be frée from infinite trauells: for yong men onely do feele the trauell, but the old men do féele vexation, and bewaile the displeasure.

The olde men of youre age, ought to haue their communi­catiō with persons wel complexioned, & not euil conditioned, [Page 188] with whome they may repose and pleasantly be conuersant: for there is not in this mortall life a thing that doth so recre­ate the hart: as is swéete conuersation. The old men of youre age ought to séeke men, and chuse honest friends, and muche to consider that the friendes whiche they shall chuse, and the men with whome they shall be conuersant, be not tedious in their spéech,Conuersation for old men. and importunate in crauing: [...]or friendship and importunitie neuer féede at one dish, either name themselues to be of one band.

The old men of your age, ought not as nowe to vse vayne and light pastimes, but to haue regarde to the bestowing of their goodes, and to consider for their houses: for the olde man that lookes not to his substance, shall want to eate, and hée that watcheth not his house, shall not lacke wherefore to wéepe. The old men of your age be bound to go cleanly, and well clad, but they haue not licence to be curious, either with nicenesse to weare their garmentes: for in yong men to bée neat, is a good curiositie, but in old men, it is great vanitie.

The olde men of your age ought much to flée brawling with your aduersaries, either trauerse in words with your neigh­bours: for if they replie any ouerthwart words, or speake any bitter iniury, the hurt is, that you haue a hart to feele it, and not strength to reuenge it. The old men of your age, oughte to be charitable, pitifull, and almes giuers: for yong menne without experience, walke so bedolted of the things of thys world, that it seemeth vnto them sufficiēt to be termed Chri­stians: but the old men that time hath aduised, and age deliue­red from disceit, let them hold it for certaine that God of thē will neuer haue pitie,The exercise of good old men. if they haue not charitie. The old men of your age, ought to haue some good Bookes to profite, and o­ther histories to passe away the time: for as nowe their age doth not suffer to walke, muche lesse to trauell, and as they are forced all day to be idle and pensiue, so is it of more deser­uing that they fill themselues with reading in bookes: than too be tired in thinking of times past. The old men of youre age ought to auoyde entering into conuocations, sessions, and [Page 189] Sises: for in such places they intreat not but causes of the cō ­mon wealth, and interest for goodes: and that by the iudge­ment of froward yong men, and men passioned, where they neuer beléeue the wise, either heare the olde of experience. The olde men of your age, when you shall be in counsell, or called to counsell, ought not to be rash, ianglers, or contenti­ous: for it apertayneth to yong men to folow their opinion, & the old men but only reason. The olde men of your age,The notes of good old men. ought to be sober, pacient, and chast, and to presume more to be na­med vertuous than old: for in these times, and also in time past, they haue more respect to the life he leadeth, than to the hoare heares he weareth. The olde men of your age, ought to hold for their chiefe exercise, to go euery day to Church, and to heare seruice on the holyday: and if this shall séeme painefull or tedious, I giue him licence to go no ofter to Church being old, than he went to visite his innamored when he was yong. The olde men of your age, ought to haue all things well pro­uided for their soules, to vnderstād also for the health of their persons: for as Galene sayth, old age is so monstrous in condi­tion, that it is neither a sicknesse finished, or a perfect health. The old men of your age, before all thinges ought to procure their houses good and healthy, scituate in a gladsome & sound ayre: for I am of opinion, that there is no goodes better im­ployed, than that whiche old men bestowe vpon a good house. The old men of your age, ought to procure, not only to dwell in a good house, but also to sléepe in a good chamber,Necessary prouision for olde men. in a bedde very clenly, and the chamber very close: for as the old man is delicate and of smal strength, so be is more offended by a little ayre that cōmes in at a chinke, thā the cold of one whole win­ter night did gréeue him when he was yong. The old men of your age, ought very much to procure to eate good bread, and to drinke good wine, and the bread that is well baked, and the wine that is a yeare old: for as old age is compassed with in­firmities, and laden with sadnesse, the good vituals shall hold them in health, and the good wine shall leade them in mirth.A diet for old men. The old men of your age, ought much to consider that theyr [Page 190] meales be small, their meate yong and well seasoned: and if they eate much, and of many meates, they euer goe sicke: for notwithstanding they haue money to buy them, they haue not heate to disgest them. The old men of your age, ought too procure their bed curteyned, their Chamber hanged, a meane fire, the chimney without smoke: for the life of olde men con­sisteth in going clenly, warme, cōtented, and without anger. The old men of your age, ought vtterly to auoide to dwel vp­pon any riuer, either to do their busines in moist groundes, either to sléepe in ayry places, for olde men being delicate as they are, be like children, and naturally accraised: the ayre shall penetrate their powers, and moystnesse shall enter their bones. The old mē of your age, vpon paine of their life ought to be temperate in their diet, refusing to eate late: for old mē, as they haue their stomacks weake and growen colde, they may not disgest two meales in a day:Temperance in old men prouoketh sleepe and a­uoydeth belke. for the olde man that is vnsatiable and a glutton, vsing the contrary, shall belke much and sléepe little. The olde men of your age, to the ende that they be not sicke, or grow heauie, neyther turne to be grosse, ought a little to refreshe them selues, walke into the fielde, vse some exercise, or be occupied in some facultie: for other­wise, it might happen them to get a tisick, or a lamenesse in their limmes: in such wise, that it will be hard to fetch breath, and by puffing and blowing giue warning where you walk. The old men of your age ought to haue great care to auoyde all contentious brabbling amongst their seruants, and some­time to beare with their negligences, to pay their wages, too the ende they go contented: for otherwise they will be negli­gent in seruice, and very suttle in stealing. For conclusion, the old men of your age ought much to procure to weare their apparell swéete and cleanly:A conclusion with rules, conuenient for old men. their shirts very well washed: their house neat and wel swept, and their chamber very close, warme, and well smelling. For the olde man whiche presu­meth to be wise, if he will liue in health, and goe contented, ought to haue his body without life, & his hart without strife. In the end of your letter you write, that hauing left to loue, [Page 191] sorow leaueth not to vere you, which vseth to folow the ena­mored: and instantly you desire me to giue you some remedy, or to sende you some comfort: for notwithstanding you haue throwen it out of the house, it leaueth not nowe and then too knocke at the gate.

Sir in this case I remit you to Hermogenes, to Tesiphontes, to Doreatius, to Plutarch, and to Ouid, which spent much time, and wrote many bookes, to giue order in what manner the enamored shoulde loue, and the remedies that for their loue they should vse. Let Ouid write what him pleaseth, & Dorcas say what he thinketh good, but in fine, there is no better reme­die for loue, than is, neuer to begin to loue:A most cer­taine remedie for loue. for loue is so euill a beast, that with a thread he suffereth to be taken, but hée will not depart with thrusts of a launce. Let euery man con­sider what he attempteth, marke what he doth, beholde what he taketh in hand, note whither he dothe enter, and haue re­garde where he may be taken: for if it were in his handes to set the tables, he is not certaine to win the game. There is in loue after it is begon, infinite shelues, immesurable sloughes, daungerous rockes, and vnknowen whirelpooles, in whych some remaine defaced, others blinded, some besoilde, and also some others vtterly drowned, in such wise, that he that is best deliuered, I accoumpt to be euill deliuered.

Oh how many times did Hercules desire to be deliuered from his loue Mithrida, Menelaus from Dortha, Pyrrhus from Helena, Alcibiades from Dorobella, Demophon from Phillis, Hā ­niball from Sabina, and Marcus Antonius from Cleopatra, from whome they could neuer, not only depart, but also in the end for them, and with them, they were cast away.

In case of loue, let no man trust any man, and much lesse him selfe: for loue is so naturall to man or woman, and the de­sire to be beloued, that where loue amongst them dothe once cleaue, it is a sore that neuer openeth, and a bond that neuer vnknitteth. Loue is a metall so delicat, & a canker so secret, y^t he planteth not in y^e face where he may be sene, nor in y^e pulse where he may be felte, but in the sorowfull hart where (al­though [Page 192] he be sensible) they dare not discouer it. After all this, I say, that the remedie that I giue for loue, is, that they gyue him no place to enter amongst the entrayles, nor giue theyr eyes libertie to behold windowes, or giue eare to bawdes, ei­ther suffer any trade of Dames to come or goe, & if any come to house, to shut the dores, and not to walke abroade after e­uening: if with these conditions loue may not altogither bée remedied, at the least it may be eased and amended.

Sir (and my gossip) if you will in all these things profite youre selfe and well consider thereof, you shall be excused of many angers, and also saue much money. For to youre age and my grauitie it is more conuenient to vnderstande of the best wines, than to view the windowes of the enamored. Take for example & chastisement the Licentiat Burgos, your acquainted,A sodaine and strange spec­tacle. and my great friend, which being old (and ena­mored as you) died this saterday, a death so straunge and fud­dayne, as was fearefull to al men, and sorowfull to his friēds. No more, but our Lord be youre guide, and giue me grace too serue him.

From Burgos the .24. of Febr. 1523.

MAgnificent and right honorable Vncle, it pleaseth your Honor to complaine of mée in youre letter, that I neither serue you as my good Lorde, either do sue as vnto a father, or visite as an vncle, neyther write as vntoo a friende. I may not denie, but as concerning kinred your are my Fathers brother,Note the elo­quence of the Author. in merit my good Lord, my father in curtesie, and my Progenitor in giuing of libe­rall rewards, which I haue receiued at your hands: not as a nephew, but as a sonne much beloued.

Since I haue confessed the affinitie that I hold, and affirme the dette that I do owe, no more will I denie the fault that I [Page 193] haue committed in neglecting my dutie in visiting and wri­ting vnto you:The perfect condition of a friende. for with our friendes we ought to accomplishe vntill we may doe no more, and spende vntill we haue no more: let it auayle what it may auayle, and my excuse serue, what it may serue. The very troth is, that I go in this court with myne offices so occupied, and so bewandred in my busi­nes, that scarsely I knowe any man, neither yet remember my selfe: and this which (I say) is not so muche to excuse my fault, as it is to accuse my liuing. For in the time when I was aliue, and abode in my monastery, I did rise earely to go to Church, I studied my bookes, preached my sermons, fasted the aduents, performed my disciplines, bewailed my sinnes, and prayed for sinners: in such sort, that euery night I made a reckening of my life, and euery day did renewe my consci­ence. But afterwards, I died: afterwards they buried me:Buried, being alyue. and afterwards they brought me vnto the Court: I grew negli­gent in fasting, I brake holy days, I forgot my disciplines, I dyd no almes, I prayed with negligence, I preached sil­dome, I spake at large, I suffred little, I celebrated wyth dulnesse, I presumed much, and ouer much: and the worst of all is, that I gaue my selfe to vnprofitable conuersations, the which lead me vnto some tedious passions, and also affectiōs to be auoyded. Beholde here my Lorde and Vncle, after what manner we goe in Court, neither know we kindred, or speake to friends, neither be sensible of the mischiefe, or pro­fit vs of the time, neyther do we séeke rest, or haue any wit: but wandring here and there, we goe as certaine men bedol­ted and charged with a thousand thoughts.

But setting this apart, since in time to come there shal be amends, and for that which is past I may obtaine pardon, I shall promise you by the faith of an honest nephew, that the court hauing passed these ports, I shall come to visit you, and wil write by euery messēger. Sir Ladron your sonne and my cosin willed me (here in Madrid) that I shoulde write vnto you, the sorow which I conceyued of the sicknesse your Lord­ship hath had, and the long diseases you haue passed. The ex­cesse [Page 194] you vsed, is grief vnto mée: the ague that held you, sor­roweth me: the sorowes you haue paste, displeaseth me: the syropes you receyued, irketh mée: the purgations you v­sed, lothed me: the oyntmentes you experimented, despiteth me: the bathes you proued, are tedious, and tormenteth mée: the lauatories you tasted, payneth me: the money you wasted, vexeth me: bycause the sicke man, consideryng the goodes he expended, and the little that medicines haue profi­ted, many tymes it dothe more gréeue hym, that he giueth to the Physition and Apoticarye, than the maladie whiche hée suffered.

Behold here my Lorde, howe I am not a man that giueth one sorowe, but an hundreth if néed bée: although it be true, that a thousand tymes it soroweth me, is not so much worth as one it pleaseth me. Licurgus in the lawes that he gaue to the Lacedemonians, did commaund, that no man should bring euill newes to any man, but that the pacient should diuine it, or by discourse of tyme, he shoulde vnderstande it. The di­uine Plato in the bookes of his common wealth, did counsell the Athenians that they should not visite any of their neygh­bours in tyme of aduersitie, except they coulde by some mea­nes remedie them. For (he sayd) and sayd well, that colde and vnsauorie is that comfort, when it commeth not be wrapt in some remedie. Of a trouth, to remedie and giue counsell bée two distinct offices, & very seldome conteyned in one person: for counsel is to be giuē by the wife, & the remedy by him that possesseth the same. My Lord & vncle, I would God, that your remedie were in my hands (as it is to desire it) that I myght rather say, It pleaseth me of your helth, than that it soroweth me of your sicknes. Sir, you haue to vnderstand, I beare you much enuie: not of Paradilla, where you dwel, not to the newe plāted vineyard which you possesse, or to the mil y^t you make, either to the nintie yeares that you possesse, but of the order that you vse in your house: for that in nurtour it is a palace, and in honest ciuilitie,A good praise to a Gentle­man. a Colledge.

Cato the iudge, in his old age did withdrawe himselfe to a [Page 195] countrey house, which stoode betwixt Nola, and Caieta, & all the Romanes that past thereby did say, iste solus scit viuere: whiche is to vnderstand, this man knoweth to liue by himself, wherfore they reported that he had withdrawn himself thither in time, and sequestred himselfe from the hurly burly of the worlde. The greatest mercy that God vseth to an old man is to giue him to vnderstand, that he is become old: for if he know this of himself, of a trouth he shal fynd that the olde man hath not of any thing more certaintie, than euery day to look for death. Plato saide: Iuuenes citò moriuntur, senes autē diu viuere nō possunt, y^t is to say, it is true that yong men die quickly, but the old men can not liue long. The stéele being spente, the knife may not cut: the talow consumed, the candle goeth out: the Sunne being set, the day can not tarie: the floure being fallen, ther is no hope of fruite. By that which is sayd, I would say, y^t after an olde man is past foure score yeres, he ought to make more readinesse to die, thā prouisiōs to liue. Diodorus Siculus sayth, that it was a lawe amongst the Aegyptians, that no king, after he had children, either any old man hauing passed thréescore yeares, shoulde presume to buylde an house, without first for himselfe he had made a sepulcher. My Lord, thus much I say, that not as an Aegyptian, but as a good Christian, you haue in the Monastery of Cuenca, made a sepulture, and indued a cha­pell, where your bones shall rest, and whereof your kynred may boaste.

Peter of Reynosa (your neyghbour, and my greate friende) hathe aduertised mée, that in the pleasant Peradilla, the storm hath spoyled youre wheate, and that in lowe places the vi­nes be blasted, with which lamentable and straunge chaunce (although you féele much grief) your lordship must shewe good courage, and haue great pacience: for that you now stande in suche an age, as you shall rather wante yeares to lyue, than corne to eate. Those that ingrosse wynes to make it deare, & kéepe their corne against the moneth of May, vpon such men, heauinesse ought to fall, and vpon suche losse is wel employd: [Page 196] for there is nothing so méete, eyther more iust, than the man that wisheth an euill yeare to the common wealth, shoulde neuer sée a good yeare enter his owne house.

It is a propertie of such as be muche couetous, and little vertuous to murmure at that which nature doth performe, and God doth permit, in such sort that they will rather amēd God, than correct themselues. Let houses fal, the vines be bla­sted, the stormes spoile corne, the flocks die, and rent gathe­rers run away: if we giue thanks to God for that he leaueth vs, if we do not murmur for that he taketh away, if we grow not dul to serue him, he will neuer grow negligent to giue vs prouision. They say vnto me that your Lordship is vexed, sorowfull, and also vntractable: these are priuileges of olde menne, but not of wise olde men: for it shoulde be a muche greater losse to haue the wit blasted, thā the Corne destroied. Vncle you know very well, that in all the the markets of Vilada, & Palencia we shal find bread to be sold, but in none of the fai­res of Medina, shal we find wisdome to be bought: For which cause men ought to giue more thanks vnto God, for that hée did create them wise, than for that he made them rich. It is a more sounde welthinesse for a man to estéeme himselfe wise, than to presume to be of great wealth: for with wisdom they obtaine to haue, but with hauing they come to lose thē ­selues. The office of humanitie is to féele trauells, and the office of reason is, to dissemble them. For when sodaine as­saultes come vpon vs, and infortunes knocke at our gates, if the hart should receiue them all and of euery one complaine and bewayle: he should euer haue wherof to recount, and ne­uer want wherfore to lament.

The wyse man weepeth not but for the losse of a frend Prometheus that gaue laws to the Aegiptians, said, that the Philosopher should not wepe for any thing, but for the losse of his friend: for all other things are contained in our chestes, onely the friend dwelleth in the hart. If Prometheus did not permit to shew any griefe but for a friende, it is not credible that he would wéepe for the corne in the field, wherin he had greate reason: for notwithstandyng that the losse of tem­porall [Page 197] good is, wherewith we be moste grieued: yet on the o­ther part, it is that wherein our losse is least. Séeing the in­certayntie of this lyfe, and the continuall chaunges that be in the same, as little suretie men haue thereof, that be in their houses, as the corne that is in the field. I dare say that wée haue very little wherin to trust, and many things wher­of to be afrayd. It is not vnknowen to your Lordship, that in this lyfe there is nothyng sure, since wée sée the corne bla­sted, trées striken downe, floures fall, woodde wormeaten, cloath deuoured with moathes, cattell doe ende, and menne doe dye: and that all thynges well marked, in the ende all thyngs haue an ende. Men that haue passed thrée score yea­res, haue for their priuiledge, to sée in their houses great mis­fortunes, whiche is to witte, absence of friendes, deathe of children, losse of goodes, infirmities in their persones, pesti­lences in the common wealth, and manye nouelties in For­tune: and for thys cause Plinie durste saye, that men ought not to bée borne, if that he being borne foorthwith should die.The honest care, not to liue long, but well. Oh howe well sayde the diuine Plato, that men oughte not to be carefull to liue long, but to lyue well. I thought good thus muche to write vnto you, to the ende you shoulde vn­derstande to profite your selfe by olde age, since you had skil to enioye the dayes of youth: for in the age of fourescore yea­res, it is a tyme to make small accounte of lyfe, and to vse great skill and no small reckening of death.

All these thinges I haue written vnto your Lordshippe, and my good vncle, not for that you haue néede, but bicause you shall haue wherein to reade, and also to the ende you shall vnderstande, that (although I go bescattered and wan­dring in thys Court,) I doe not leaue to reknowledge the good. No more, but that our Lorde be your protectour.

From Madrid the eleuenth of Marche. 1533.

RIght reuerend and eloquent Doctor, ad ea quae mihi scripsisti quid tibi sim respō ­surus ignoro: although I saye that to so many things I know not to answer, I should haue sayd better, that I dare not to wright. For the affaires of our common wealth, are come to that e­state, that though we be bound to féele them, we haue no licence to reporte them. It is too gréeuous in our humanitie to suffer iniuries, but it is much more gréeuouse vnto the hart to kéepe them se­cret,Who is wor­thie of prayse. and not to vtter them: for the remedie of the sorowfull hart is, to discouer his poyson, and to vnburden where he lo­ueth. He deserueth much, and can do very much, that hathe a hart to féele things as a man, and dissembleth them as discret. For he is of a greater courage that forgettes the sorowe that once entreth into the hart, than he which reuengeth it. If my memorie should reueale what it doth retaine, my tong speake what it doth knowe, and my pen write what me listeth, I am sure those that be present would maruell, and suche as be ab­sent, would growe offended: for nowe burneth the pearcher without tallow, and at randon all goeth to the bottom. The armie of gentlemen be here in Medina del ryo secco, and they of the communaltie in Villa Braxima, in suche wise, that too the one we desire victory, and of the other we haue compassion. For the one be our good Lords, and the others our good friēds: I desire that the part of the gentlemen may ouercome: and it grieueth me to sée the deathe and fall of the poore: chiefly for that they know not what they aske, either vnderstand what they do. If the trauell of the warre, and the perill of the bat­tel might light vpō their shoulders, that were inuenters ther­of, and that haue altered the people, it shoulde be tollerable too sée, and iust to suffer: but alas the sorow, they fight in safetie, [Page 199] and chase the bull in great suretie: wée haue the monasterie full of souldiors, and the Celles occupied with knights: wher­in, there is no place for a man to withdrawe, eyther a quiet houre to studie: In such wyse, that if my Bookes be scattred, also my wits be wandring. What quietnesse or contentati­on will you that I haue, séeing the king is oute of his king­dome, the commons rebell, the counsell fled, the Gentlemen persecuted, the townes men altered, the gouernours astoni­ed, and the people sacked, euery houre entreth men of warre, euery houre they make alarums, euery houre they sound to battell, euery houre they ordeine ambushes, euery hour there is skirmishes, euery houre they intende repayres, and also euery houre I sée them bring men wounded. The Cardinal and the gouernours commaunde me to preache and instructe them in the affaires of peace, that which I can say, is euery thirde day I goe from one campe to an other, and they of the cōmonaltie will not beléeue me, neither will be conuerted: in suche wise that they haue the voyce of Iacob, and the handes of Esau. In this ciuil warre, I heare them say from thence so many things, that it displeaseth me, and I see héere so many things that discontenteth me, Quod posui custodiam ori meo, vt nō delinquam in lingua mea. If they meete there with my letters, or yours should be séene here, eyther for not vnderstanding, or by euill interpreting, it might be, I should incurre some daunger, and you discredite. Ignosce mi domine, tum breuitate lite­rarum, tum etiam quòd non liceat hic nostra tempestate apertius loqui.

From Medina del rio secco the xxij. of Ianuary. 1523.

REuerent Abbot and monasticall Religious, Regi secu­lorum immortali sit gloria, quia te ex litteris tuis bene valere audio, & ipse bene habeo. The health of the body at all times ought to be much estéemed, & muche more in this pre­sent [Page 202] yeare: for we haue warre within the house, and pestilēce is calling at dore. I haue not sayd much in saying that the pe­stilence calleth at the doore, since Auila is infected, Madrigal de­populate, Medina escandalized, Valiodolid in great feare, and Duennas mourning.

As touching the rest I giue your fatherhood many thankes for Ochams Dialogues that you lent me. And I gyue you no lesse for your poudred meat you sent me; and as I was borne in the Astuaries of Sintillana, and not in the costs of Cordoua, you coulde haue sent me nothing more acceptable than that salt flesh: in suche sorte, quod cognouisti cogitationes meas de longe. From Asia vnto Rome, the fayre Cleopatra sent vnto hir good friend Marcus Antonius a poudred Crane,A poudred crane sent frō Asia to Rome whiche he so estee­med, that he eat euery day onely one morsell of that poudred meate. From Illiria (in the Confines of Panonia) they brought presēted vnto the Emperour Augustus sixe salted Lampreys, whiche meate was so newe a thing in Rome, that hee onely eate but one, and deuided the other fiue amongst the Sena­tors and Embassadours. Macrobius in his Saturnals recoun­ting, or to say better, reprehending Lucullus the Romane of a solemne and costly supper that he made to certaine Embas­sadours of Asia, he sayth amongst other things they did eate, a Gripe in potage, and a Goose in pickle. In a certain inuectiue that Crispus Salust maketh againste his aduersarie Cicero, a­mongst the most graue thinges that he dothe accuse him, is, that he caused to bée broughte to satisfie his wanton excesse, poudred meates from Sardinia, Plato offen­ded with Di­onisius for eating twice on the day. and wines from Spaine. The diuine Plato when he went to sée Dionisius the tyrant, was not of any thing in him so much offended, as he was to sée him eate two times a day, and to drinke the better he did eate salt flesh. There past much time in Rome, in which although they did eate fleshe newly poudred, they not yet know to make a brine. But as times gosh euery day discouering more things, & the industry of mā goeth more sharpned, it is come to passe y^t the pickle, brine, & poudred meats y^t was foūd out most de­licate for kings: at this presēt the rustical be glutted withal. [Page 203] For better seasoned and also more swéete & delectable I hold the poudred meats of the mountaine, than those of Castile for in y^e mountains herbs be more delicate, y^e waters more pure, the countrey more cold, the beasts more sound, and the ayre more subtill. That the mountaine is a better countrey than Castile, it appeareth most cleare, in that the wines that goeth from hence thither be more fine, and the men that commeth from thence hyther bée conuerted more malicious, in suche wise, that wines be there made better, and here men made worse.

I like very well of that Iames Lopes of Haro was wont too say, that for one to proue a perfect man, he ought to bée borne in the mountaine, and transferred into Castile: but I am sory that vnto my countrey men there cleaueth few curtesies and lesse good manners that we haue there, and very much malice that we vse here. When we demaunde of a neighbour of the confines of Cordoua, of Zocodouer, of Toledo, of Valiodolid, or of Segouia, in what countrey he was borne, incontinent he as­sureth (it is true) that he was borne in that countrey, but hys grandfather came from the mountaine, in such wise that at y^e instant they wil be Castilians, & in linage they wil be Biscains.

If Roger of Toledo do not deceiue vs, seuen Nations had the dominion of nine prouinces of Spaine, which is to wit, the Greekes of Carpentania, the Vandales of Andolosia, the Zuitsers of Carthagene, the Alaians of Galisia, the Hunes of Arragonia, Seuen nati­ons inhabited Spaine. the Gothes of Lucitania, and the Romanes of Pirenea. But of all the nine Nations we reade of none that did passe the rocke of Ordunia, neither durst approch the rocke of Horadaida. To vs that be Montanezes the Castilians cannot denie, that when Spaine was surprised by the Moores, the greatest & chiefest men were not saued only in the mountaines, and that after­wards all the nobles haue not discended from thence. The good Inigo Lopos of Santillana did vse to saye, that in this oure Spaine that linage was a stranger or very new, y^t in y^e moun­taines was not possessed of some notable Mannor. Father Abbot I thought good to saye all this, to the ende you shall sée [Page 204] how much I do estéeme that which you sent me: the one, for that it was poudred, and the other for that it was seasoned in my countrey. It is no noueltie that the poudred meates of my countrey do like me well, since the Emperour Seuerus dyd neuer weare shirt but of the flax of Africa which was his na­turall countrey.

Of Aurelius the Emperor, his chroniclers do recount that he saide many times, that all meates that we eate of other countries, we eate them with appetite, but those that bee of our owne countrey we eate them with loue and also wyth appetite. As concerning the rest that youre Fatherhood dyd write and incommend vnto me, frier Benet your subiect and my friend, may say what I did speake therein vnto his Ma­iestie, and what he aunswered me, whiche presently was dis­patched. No more, but that the grace Dei nostri Iesu Christi sit tecum & mecum.

From Madrid, the twelfth day of March, An­no Domini .1522.

RIght magnificent and most reuerent Imperiall Iudge, quanto timore ad vos scribam, nouit ipse quem timemus in vobis, with much feare and no smal shame, I write this letter vnto your Lord­ship, bycause euery day I haue bene with my letters so importunate, that I deserue to be holden importune and tedious. Beléeue me sir, that it is a straunge thing vnto me to goe to importune, or yet to be im­portuned:The impor­tunat and the foole are bro­thers children for the man that is importune, I holde him for the brother of a foole. The suter that is patient, silent, and maner­ly, we take pleasure to heare him, answer him, and dispatche him: on the other side, to him that is troublesome, ouersharp, [Page 205] entermedling, and importunate, we shut the dores againste him, we cut off his taile, we turne away our face, and also wee giue him betwixt the téeth (you are come in an euill houre.)

Cicero in his booke of Friendship, sayth, that in the affaires that toucheth but our selues, we ought only to make sute, but for such as concerne our neare friends, we ought to intreate, and may be importune. In folowing sutes, there is muche to be considered: what the suter is, to whome he maketh sute, and wherefore he maketh sute, and also in what time he su­eth: bycause to dispatch a thing out of time, is to cut the pe­cocke by the knées. There are affaires of suche qualitie, that only to speake in them were shamefull, and yet if they bée procured for others, it is great charitie. The thing that Alex­ander the great most praysed in the great philosopher Caliste­nes, was, that for others he craued many things, and for him­selfe nothing. Iulius Caesar and Cicero were mortall enemies, but in the ende, on a certaine day in the Senate, Iulius Caesar sayd vnto Cicero, I cannot denie this (Oh Cicero) but that in the thinges that touche thy selfe, thou art remisse, and in matters that concerne the common wealth, very importune.

There was a Law amongst the Romaines much vsed and also obserued, that vpon paine of death none shoulde presume to approch the tent, where the Emperour did eate and sléepe, except such as did serue him by day and guard him by night, but the case was thus. The Emperour Aurelius being in warres in Asia against Cenobia, in the night a certaine Greeke seruitor entred the Emperours tent,A notable ex­ample of a pi­tifull Prince. whiche being taken and presently condemned to die, the Emperour Aurelius from hys bed where he lay spake with a loude voyce, if this man dyd come to sue for any thing for himselfe, let him die: and if hée came to sue for another, let him liue, and for certaine it was found, that the poore man came to make sute for his thrée companions that had slepte being of the watch, whiche the Captaine commaunded to be whipt and to be deliuered to the enemies. Oh example to be noted, and to memorie to bée in­commended, for that out of one selfe chance and misfortune, [Page 206] the soldiour obtayned life, the companions escaped distresse and shame, and the good Prince enioyed the renoume of cle­mencie. I thought good to alledge these old examples, to ad­uise such as you that be supreme Iudges, and constituted in high estates, to the ende that if you will not doe all that wée craue, at the least you will not chide vs when we be suters vnto you: bycause, that bond that holdeth the Iudge to be iust in that he iudgeth, the very same doth bind the good to be im­portune when he sueth for another. The office of the good mā is to pray and be importunate, not only for the good, but also for the euill: it is to wit, for the good that they maye be made better, and for the euill that they pardon them. Since there is no lawe in this worlde so rigorous, that in good or in euill part may not be interpreted, the Iudges haue to presuppose we do not desire them to breake their lawes, but that they do but moderate them: for many times the suter doth complaine, not of the sentence of condemnation, but of the desire that the iudge did shew to condemne him In the iudge it is not onely a vice intolerable to condiscend to all that which they craue, but also a great extremitie to doe nothing of that they desire: the good Iudge ought to be alwayes iust in that he giueth sen­tence, and in that they desire him sometime humaine. When the Consull Ascanius did boast himselfe that in the office of Censor or iudge, he had neuer admittted, either so muche as heard the requests of his friends.An answer of Cato to As­canius. The good Censor Cato sayd vnto him on a certain day in the Senat, the offence standeth not (oh Ascanius) in that the Iudge suffreth himselfe to be sued vnto, but to consent himselfe of any man to be commaunded. Not of few, but of many Iudges we maye iustly saye, that which they do not at the intreatance of a gentleman, they doe afterwards by the Counsell of their priuat friend. I do lie if I did not intreat a Iudges wife to cause him to cōsider of a plée of a friend of mine, whiche aunswered me, Intreat? what think not Master Gueuara, that my husband hath a wife that must intreat, but commaund: And so it came to passe (as she said) for that which could not be obtained in halfe a yeare, she [Page 207] dispatched in one night. In the bookes of common wealth, Plu­tarch doth aduise Traiane, that since in humane lawes there be more things arbitrable than forceable, he should aduise his Iudges, to approch more vnto reason than opinion. The vn­bridled Iudges that naturally be seuere and vntractable, it is impossible but that they must be odious vnto all men, and for this cause I thinke it very méete, that one by one they shoulde heare all men with curtesie, and afterwards determine what they shall finde by Iustice. Many Iustices do holde it for ad­uauncement of honour to heare their suters with an euill will, and not to doe anye thing wherein they bée intreated: which they do not, bycause they be iust in their offices, but for that of their nature they be euill condicioned.

The good Iudge ought not to wrest the lawes to his con­dicion, but wrest his condicion conformable vnto the lawes:The good Iudge wre­steth his con­dition agreea­ble to good lawes. for otherwise it should not be expedient to séeke iust Iudges, but men well cōdicioned: but in somuche as God was intrea­ted of those of Niniuie that w [...]re condemned, of Ezechias that was anoynted, of Dauid that offended in adultery, of Achab that committed Idolatry, of Iosua that did not ouercome, of Anna that was barraine,An example for men to be intreated of o­ther men. and of Susan that falsely was accu­sed: surely it is not much that men do suffer them selues to bée intreated of other men. I thought good my Lord president too write all these things, not to teach you them, but to remem­ber you of them. The Abbot of saint Isidro is of my acquain­tance and great friend, for we were brought vp in pallace to­gether, and were fellowes of one Colledge, in suche wise that we be bretherne, not in armes, but in letters: and now of late there hath bin proces againste him to appeare in this youre audience, for which he would present him selfe before youre presence, and in his way take a letter of mine, by which I do much desire your Lordship that the Father Abbot and hys Monks: Sentiant si placet, quod non sit amor ociosus, siue vester ad nos, siue nostrum ad illos, salua tamen in omnibus iusticia, contra quam noque patrem respicere fas est.

From Toledo the xx of August. 1532.

RIght renowmed, and greatest Earle of Spaine, most acceptable to my hart was the letter you did write vnto me (by the Commendathor A­quilera) bycause there was not in these King­domes, Lorde nor Prelate, that had not writ­ten vnto me, and to whome I had not writtē againe, (except your honour, & my Lorde the Earle of Cabra,) but since we haue passed the port, and that the gulfe is naui­gable, the way tracked, and I come to youre acquaintance: knowing the sinceritie of your bloud, the generositie of youre persone, the authoritie of your house, and the fame of your re­nowme: I will not leaue from hence forward to request you, neither will I be negligent to write vnto you. With some Lords and gentlemen I hold aquaintance,A sugred speach. with others kin­red and affinitie, with other friendship, with others couer­sation: but to other some I refuse communication, and flye their condition: for in wit they be doltishe, and in their cōmu­nication very tedious. It is more painefull to suffer a tedi­ous Lord or Gentleman, than a foolish ploughman: for the in­considerate Gentleman will make you raue, and the doltish ploughman prouokes you to laugh: and farther (and besides this) the one you may commaunde to holde his peace, and the other you must suffer vntill he haue made an end: but youre Lordship is of so good stuffe, and come of so right a Turquois, and so delicate of iudgement, that there may be no place in my conceit, but that from hence forward I wil boast my selfe of your conuersation, and ioy my selfe of your condition. Your Lordship dothe commaunde me to write vnto you (if I haue read in any auncient writing) who were the knights of the Band in Spaine. Also you woulde vnderstande, in the time of what prince this order was established, who was the inuen­tour thereof, why he deuised the same, what rules he gaue [Page 209] them to liue with, how long it lasted and wherefore it was lost: although I were some suspitious witnesse, and youre Lordship were iudge Ronquillo, you could not take my depo­sition by interrogatories more delicatly.A commenda­ble eloquence. I sweare by the law of a good man, that if mine answer be so accomplished, as your demaund is exquisit, your honour shall be satisfied, and I not a litle tired. After I did sée the stately buildings that you haue made at Valiodolid I did more boast you for a good builder thā for a curious reader, and therefore I do much delight in that you demaund and write vnto me, for that to the good Knight it is as pertinent to haue a booke vnder his pillow, as a sword at his beds head.

The greate Iulius Caesar, in the mids of his campes, had his Commentaries in his bosome, his launce in his left hand,Notes of Iu­lius Cesar, & of Alexander the great. and his pen in the right hand: in suche wise, that all the time that was frée from fighting, he spent in reading and writing. The great Alexander, that onely with feare did subdue the West, and with armes did conquere the East, he was alwayes girt with Achilles sworde, and with the Iliades of Homer did al­wayes sléepe in his Chamber. It is not my opinion that you should take writing and reading for your principall office (as I that am bound to studie) but the tenth houre you spende in talke and loose in play, you should employ and spend in rea­ding. But comming to the purpose, it is to witte, that in the yere M.CCC.lxviij. the King Sir Alonso being in the Citie of Burgos, that was the sonne of King Sir Hernando, and of the Quéene the Lady Constance: This good King made a certaine new order of Knighthood, which he entituled the Order of the band, wherein he himselfe with his children, hys bretherne, and the sonnes of the most riche and noble Knightes of the realme did enter. Four yeares after he had ordayned thys order of the band, the king Sir Alonso being in Palentia, refor­med the rules which he had made, and also added punishmēts for the transgressors of the same: in such wise, that agréeable to the last rule, which was the better and more Knightlike, I will write this letter vnto your Honor: They were named [Page 210] Knightes of the bande,The order of the knights of the band in Spayne in time past. bycause they dyd weare vpon them a certayne redde skarffe thrée fingers broade, after the ma­ner of a stoale, cast vppon the lefte shoulder, and knit vnder the right arme. None coulde giue the bande but onely the Kyng, eyther any myghte receyue the same, except he were the sonne of a Knight, or the son of some notable Gentle­man, & that at the least had bene resident at the Court ten ye­res or in the warres against the Moores had serued the King.

In thys order of the bande, the eldest sonnes of knigh­tes that were inheritours coulde not enter, but suche as were second or thirde sonnes, and that had no patrimonie, for the intention of the good Kyng (Sir Alonso) was, to honoure the sonnes of the worshipfull of his Courte, that coulde doe and had but little. That daye whiche they receyued the band, they dyd present into the Kings hande faithe and homage to obserue the rule, and I saye they made not any strayt vow, or rigorous othe, bycause if afterwardes any shoulde trans­gresse some parte of the rule, they shoulde bee subiecte to the chastisement, but not bounde to the sinne.

HIs firste rule commaunded, that the Knight of the bande was bounde to speake vnto the Kyng (béeing required) for the aduauncemente of his Countrey,A right no­table rule. and for the defence of the Common wealth, vpon payne that béeing noted ther­of, he should be depriued of his patrimonie, and banished out of his countrey.

2 His rule commanded, that the knight of the band aboue all thinges shoulde speake trouth vnto the kyng, vnto hys Crowne and person shoulde obserue fidelitie: And if anye in hys presence shoulde murmure of the kyng, and he should not disco uer it, and béeing approued with infamie, he shoulde bée turned oute of Courte, and for euermore depryued of the bande.

3 His rule commaunded, that all those of that order shuld vse muche silence, and that whyche they spake, should be of great trouth: and if by chaunce any knight of the band shuld tell any notable lie, he shuld go one month without his sword.

[Page 211]4 His rule commaunded, that they shoulde accompanie themselues with wise men, of whome they myghte learne to lyue well, and with men of warre that might teach them to fight, vpon paine that the knight of the band which should suffer himselfe to be accompanied, or be séene to walke with marchants, men of occupations, Lawyers, or with men of the countrey, shoulde be grieuously reprehended of the mai­ster: and one whole moneth in his chamber imprisoned.

5 His rule commaunded,A necessary rule for these our dayes. that all the knights of this order should maynteyne their words, and kéepe fidelitie vnto their friendes, and in case it were proued agaynste any knighte of the bande, that he had not accomplished his word (although it were giuen vnto a base person, and vpon a small matter, yet) suche a one shoulde goe alone in courte and vnaccompanied, not presuming to speake, or to approche or kéepe companie with any knight.

6 His rule commanded, that the knight of the band should be bounde to haue good armour in his chamber, good horsses in his stable, a good launce at his gate, and a good sworde at his girdle: vpon paine that if in any of these things he were de­fectiue, they shoulde call him (in Court) by the space of a mo­neth, seruant, and should lose the name of knight.

7 His rule did commaund, that no knight of the band shold presume to ryde to the Court on a mule, but on horsebacke, eyther openly should dare to goe withoute his bande, eyther should take vpon him to go to Court without his sworde, or venture at his lodging to eate alone: vpon pain to pay a mark of Siluer towards the iustes.

8 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band should be serued with a lyer, eyther boast himself like a babler, vpon pain y^t if any of thē shuld put himself in palace to tel newes or tales, or to make to the king any false report, he should goe to court one month on foot, & arested an other into his chamber.

9 His rule commaunded that no knight of the band shuld complain of any wound that he had receyued, eyther shoulde boast himself of any déed he had don, vpon paine if he so repor­ted [Page 212] of his sore, or shoulde relate many tymes of his prowes, he should of the maister be gréeuously reprehended, and of the other knightes of the band not visited.

10 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld presume to play at any playe, (in especiall at the dice) vpon paine, that if any did play, eyther in his lodging did consent to play, they should take away his moneths wages, and for sixe wéekes banished him the Courte.

11 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld presume to lay his armour to guage, eyther to play the appa­rell perteyning to his person at any play that might be deui­sed, vpon paine that he that should play them away, or laye them to guage, should go two moneths without the band, and an other month remaine prisoner in his lodging.

A rule for modestie of ap­parell.12 His rule commaunded, that the knight of the bande in the wéeke dayes should be apparelled in fine cloth, and on the holy dayes he should weare some kynd of silke, and at Easter some little of golde, and he that shoulde haue nether stockes, and weare buskins, the maister should be bound to take them away, and to make an almes of them to the poore.

13 His rule commanded that if the knight of the band wold to the Palace, or walke to the Court on foote, that he shoulde not goe in great haste, eyther speake with loude voyce, but that he should talke with lowe voyce, and walke at greate leysure, vpon payne that of the other knightes he should bée reprehended, and of the maister chastised.

14 His rule commanded, that no knight of the band shuld presume either in ieste or in earneste, to speake to an other knight any malicious or suspicious wordes, wherof the other knight might remaine shamed or dispited, vpon pain he shuld aske pardon of the iniuried, whiche shoulde giue the offender banishement from the court for thrée monethes.

15 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld take any quarrell wyth any damsel vnmaried, eyther should rayse anye Lawe to a woman that were the daughter of a [Page 213] a Gentleman, vpon paine that any suche knighte might not accompany any Gentlewoman in town, eyther dare to serue any dame in pallace.

16 His rule commaunded, that if any knighte of the band should encounter in the stréete with any Lady or Gentlewo­man that should be generous & of valor, he should be bounde to bring himselfe on foote, and to accompany hir,A rule for e­rection of curtesie and good maner. vpon paine to lose a monethes wages, and shoulde be of the dames not beloued.

17 His rule cōmaunded, that if any noble woman or dam­sell in hir haire, should desire any knight of the band to do any thing for hir which he coulde do, and shoulde refuse to doe it, that suche a one in Palace the Dames should call: The euil commaunded knight, and voyd of curtesie.

18 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld dare to eate any vile or grosse meates: which is to wit, Oni­ons, Garlike, Chibols, nor such like, vpon paine that he that were such a one, should not that wéeke enter into the Courte, either sit at the table of a gentleman.

19 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shold presume to stand at his meate, eate alone, eyther to eate with­out napkins: but that they should eate sitting, accompanied, and the cloath spread, vpon pain that the knight which should not do so, should eate one month without his sword, and pay a marke of siluer for the tilt.

20 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld drinke wine in a vessell of earth, either shoulde drinke wa­ter in a pitcher, and at the tyme of drinking he shoulde blesse himselfe with his hande, and not with the potte, vpon paine, that the knight whiche should doe the contrarie should be a moneth banished from the Court, and an other month drinke no wine.

21 His rule commaunded, that if two knights of the band should quarell, and defie each other, the other knights shoulde trauel to bring them agréed, and if they would not be friends, that no man should helpe them vpon paine, that if any did cō ­trarie, [Page 214] he should goe one moneth without his band, and pay [...] a marke of siluer to the Iustes.

22 His rule commaunded, that if any did weare the bande without gift from the king, two Knights of the band shoulde defie him, & if they did ouercome him, he might not weare the bande, but if he ouercame them, he might from thence for­ward weare the bande, & name himselfe knight of the bande.

Rules for the obseruyng of peace.23 His rule cōmaunded, that when in court they should ex­ercise Iustes and Turneys, the knightes that should win the prise at the iustes and turneys, shuld also win the bande (al­though before he were none of the knights of the band) which the king presently there woulde giue, and all the knightes of the order into their companie should receyue.

Rules for the obseruing of peace.24 His rule commaunded, that if any knighte of the bande should lay hand vpon his sworde against any other knight of his companie, that in such a case he should not appeare before the king in two moneths, and that he should weare but halfe his band other two moneths.

25 His rule commaunded, that if any knight of the bande should giue a worde to an other knight of the bande vpon any anger or quarell, that he should not enter in court one whole yeare, the half of which time he should be prisoner.

26 His rule commaunded, that if any knighte of the bande were made a Iustice by the king, either in the court, or out of the same, that he might not do Iustice vpon any of y^e knightes of the bande, but that in taking him in anye thyng not well done, he might only take him, and afterwards remit y^e same vnto the king.

27 His rule commaunded, that the king going on warfare, that all the knights of the band should attend vpon him, and being in campe, they should all ioyne vnder one standerd, and ioyntly should fight togither: vpon paine, that that knyghte whiche in the warres should sight without his standard, and ioyne to an other straunge knight, should lose his yeares wa­ges, and an other yeare should go with halfe his band.

28 His rule commaunded, that no knight of the band shuld [Page 215] presume to go to the warres (except it be against the Moores) and that if in any other warre he should be founde with the Kyng, that for the present he take away the band, and that if he should fight in the fauour of any other than the king, he should lose the bande.

29 His rule cōmanded,Rules for the exercise of armes. that al the knights of the band shuld assemble thrée times in the yeare where the king shoulde cō ­maund: and these assemblies shuld be to make muster of their armor and horsses, & to talk in things of their order: and these were in Aprill, September, and Christmasse.

30 His rule cōmaunded, that all the knightes of the bande should at least turney two times in the yere, and iust foure, & to practise the play at the canes six times, and vse the carrere euery wéeke: vpon paine, that that knight which was foūd negligent to liue in these warlyke exercises, and should be vn­readie in exercising of them, he shoulde go one moneth with­out his bande, and an other without his swoord.

31 His rule cōmanded, that al the knights of the band shuld be bound within eight days after the king should come to any place, to set vp a tilt to iust, and letter for turney, and more than this, they shoulde haue a Maister, where to schoole and skirmishe, and to play at rapier and dagger: vpon paine that he that should be negligent herein, should be arrested in hys lodging, and they should take away halfe his bande.

32 His rule commanded, that no knight of the band should be in the Court without seruing some dame, not to dishonour hir, but to feast hir, or else to marrie with hir, and when she shall walk abrode to accompanie hir, as she shal lyke, on foote, or on horsebacke, vsyng reuerence with his cappe, and cur­tesye with the knée.

33 His rule commaunded, that if any knight of the band did vnderstande, that within the compasse of thyrtie myles of the Courte there shoulde bée made any Iustes or Turneys, he was bounde to go thither to iust and turneye: vpon pain to goe one Moneth without his sworde, and as much with­out his bande.

[Page 216]34 His rule commaunded, that if any knight of the bande shoulde be maried within thrée score miles compasse of the Court, al the other Knights of the band should go with him to the King, to craue for him some reward, and that afterwards they should accompany him to the place of his mariage, to the end that there they shoulde do some honorable exercise of chiualrie and knighthood, & to the end they should offer some iewell vnto his spouse.

35 His rule commaunded, that on the first sonday of euery moneth, the knights of the band should go to Court together, very well appointed & armed, and that there in the Court, or in the great hall in the presence of the king and al his Court, they should play at all weapons two and two, in such wise that no hurt were done: for y^e end that this order was made, was bicause they shoulde rather boast themselues of déedes, than of the names of knights, and were of the kyng therefore much honored.

They should assaile each o­ther.36 His rule commaunded, that they shoulde not torney more than thirtie with thirtie, and with swordes rebated, and at the sounde of a trumpet they shoulde assayle eche other, and also at the sound of the Clarion they shoulde all retire, vpon paine not to enter more in torney, and in one moneth not to go to the Court.

37 His rule commaunded, that at the iustes none shoulde run more than euery man his foure courses, and should haue for Iudges, foure Knights, and he that in foure courses brake not a staffe, should pay al the costes of the tilt.

38 His rule commaunded, that at the time that any Knight of the band did fayle or die, they shoulde all go to helpe him to die well, and after they should go to his buriall, and for that he had bin brother and companion of the band, they should for one moneth be cladde with blacke, & after for thrée moneths forbeare to Iust.

The noble­minde of the maker of this rule is to be noted.39 His rule commaunded, that two dayes after the knight of the band should be buried, al the other knights of the order should assemble and go to the king, on the one part to deliuer [Page 217] the king the band that the dead had left, and on the other part to make supplication (to haue remembrance) to rayse in hys place some of his able sonnes, if he left anye, and to vse hys bountie towards his wife, to sustaine and marrie hir children and daughters.

Behold here my Lord the rule and order of the knightes of the band, that was made by the king Alfonso: Ioyntly wher­vnto I will adde all the knights that did first enter into thys order, the title of whome said thus.

• The infant Don Pedro.
• Don Enrique.
• Don Fernando.
• Don Tello.
• Don Iuan el bueno.
• Don Iuan Nunez.
• Enrique Enriquez.
• Alfonso Fernandez Coronel.
• Lope Diaz de Almacan.
• Fernan perez puerco carrero.
• Fernan Perez ponce.
• Carlos de Gueuara.
• Fernan Enriquez.
• Aluer Garcia Dalbornoz.
• Pero Fernandez.
• Garci Ioffre tenorio.
• Iuan Esteuanez.
• Diego Garcia de Toledo.
• Martin Alfonso de Cordoua.
• Goncalo ruys dela Vega.
• Iuan Alfonso de Benauides.
• Garci Laso dela Vega.
• Fernan Garcia Duque.
• Garci Fernandez tello.
• Pero Goncales de Aguero.
• Iuan Alfonso de Carriello.
• Ynigo Lopez de Horozco.
• Garci Gutierez de Graialba.
• Gutierre Fernandez de Toledo.
• Diego Fernandez de Castriello.
• Pero ruyz de Villegas.
• Alfonso Fernandez Alcayde.
• [Page 218] Ruy Goncales de Castaneda.
• Ruy ramirez de Guzman.
• Sancho Martiuez de Leyua.
• Iuan Goncales de Bacan.
• Pero Trillo.
• Suero Perez de Quinones.
• Goncalo Meria.
• Fernan Carriello.
• Iuan de Roias.
• Ptralbarez Osorio.
• Pero Lobez de Padilla.
• Don Gil de Quintana.
• Iuan Rodrigez de Villegas.
• Diego Peres Sarmiento.
• Mendorodrigues de Viezma.
• Iuan Fernandez Coronel.
• Iuan de Cereiuela.
• Iuan Rodrigez de Cisneros.
• Oreion de Liebana.
• Iuan Fernandez del Gadillo.
• Gomez Capiello.
• Beltran de Gueuara vnico.
• Iuan Tenorio.
• Ombrete de Torrellas.
• Iuan Fernandez de Bahamon.
• Alfonso Tenorio.

THat which is to be noted in all this letter is, how in order the Gentlemen and Knights went in those days, and how they did exercise them selues in armes, and auaunced them­selues by deedes of prowes, and that the children of good men were in the kings house very well brought vp, and were not suffered to be vitious and go lost. It is also to be noted in this letter,Things to be noted. in how little time the world hath made so many chan­ges, it is to wit, vndoing some, and aduauncing others out of the dust, bicause fortune neuer dischargeth hir shot but a­gainst such as be set aloft. My Lord I say this, for that ther is to be founde in this order of the band, some auncient linages which in those days were noble and famous: all which be not only ended, but (also) altogither forgotten. What houses or Manors be there now in Spaine of the Albornozes, of the Te­norios, of the Villegas, of the Trillos, of the Quintanas, of the Bi­esmas, of the Cereiuelas, of the Bahamondas, of the Coronels, of the Cisneros, of the Graialbas, and of the Horozcos: of all these li­nages there were Gentlemen and Knights very honorable. In those days, as in the list it doth appeare amōgst those that first entred into the order of the band, of al which, at this pre­sent there is not found any notable Manor, neither so much as the name. There are nowe in Spaine other Linages, the [Page 219] which be Velascos, Manriques, Enriques, Pimenteles, Mendozas, Cordouas, Pachecos, Cunigas, Faiardos, Aguilares, Manueles, Arel­lanos, Tendillas, Cueuas, Andradas, Fonsecas, Lunas, Villandran­dos, Carauaiales, Soto maiores, and Benauides.

It is a thing surely to be noted, and no lesse to be maruai­led, that none of the linage of all aboue said, is named amōgst the Knights of the band. All which in these our days be illu­stre, generouse, ritch, and much renoumed. It is well to bée beléeued that some of these glorious linages were risen in those dayes, and if they were not put amongst the knightes of the band, it was not bycause they wanted grauitie, but for that they had not at that tyme suche authoritie, and also by­cause (though they had sufficient noblenesse) they wanted ri­ches. Also it is to be thought that of those aunciente and for­gotten linages there are inough at thys instant descending and decayed, that he noble and vertuous: whiche for that we sée they haue little and may do little, we hold it for better too kéepe silence, than so name them. The sonnes of Gentlemen and Knights, be they neuer so glorious in bloud, if they haue little, and may doe little, (let them hold it for certaine) they will estéeme them but little: and therefore it were very good counsell, that they shoulde rather remayne riche seruantes in their countries, than to come to the Courts of Kinges to bée poore Gentlemen. For after thys manner they shoulde in their countries be honored, that now go in Court discounte­naunced.

According to this purpose it came to passe in Rome, that Cicero being so valiaunt of person, and hauing so great com­maundement and power in the common wealth, they dyd beare him great enuie on all sides, and beheld him with ouer­much malice. Wherefore a certaine Romane magistrate said (as if we should say vnto a frankling of Spaine) tel me Cicero, A gracious confession of Cicero. wherfore wilt thou cōpare with me in the Senat, since thou knowest & al others do know, that I am descēded of glorious Romanes, and thou of rusticall ploughmen? where vnto Ci­cero made aunswer with very good grace, I will confesse it, [Page 220] that thou art descended of noble Romane magistrates, and I procéede from poore ploughmen, but ioyntly with thys thou canst not denie me, but that all thy linage is ended in thée, and all mine beginnes in me. Of thys example your Lordship may gather what difference there is betwixt times, betwixt linages, and also betwixt persons. Since we knowe, that in Caius began the Augustus, and in Nero ended the Caesars. I would say by that which is saide, that the want of noblenesse in many gaue an ende to the linages of the Knightes of the band, and the valiantnesse of others, gaue a beginning to o­ther glorious linages that be now in Spaine: bycause the hou­ses of greate Lordes be neuer lost for want of riches, but for want of persons.

I haue enlarged this letter much more than I promised, and also more than I presupposed, but I giue it all for well employed, since I am sure, that if I remaine wearied in writing thereof, it will not be tedious vnto your Honour too reade it, bycause therein are so many and so good things, that of old Gentlemē they are worthy to be knowen, and of yong gentlemen necessary to be followed.

From Toledo, the xij. of December. 1516.

REnoumed and good Constable, Sir Iames of Mendoza gaue me a letter from your honor written with youre hand, and sealed with youre seale, I would to God there were as good or­der taken with my letters that I aun­swer you, as is here vsed with such as you send me. For I cannot say, whe­ther it be my hap, or my mishap, that [Page 221] scarcely I can write you a letter wherof al in your house vn­derstand not. As much as it doth please me that al men know me to be your friende: so muche doth it gréeue me, when you discouer of me any secret, chiefly in graue and most waightie affaires: for comming to the intelligence of youre wife and children that you communicat with me your delicat affayres, they will make great complaint if to the profit of their sub­stance I direct not your conscience. My Lady the Duchesse did write vnto me, aduertising to haue some scruple in me, saying: that I was against hir as concerning the house of To­uare, which I did neuer speake or thinke: for the office that I do most boast myselfe of, is to direct men that they be noble and vertuous, and not to vnderstand in making or marring of heyres or Manor houses.

My Lorde Constable you do know, that at all times when you discouer your selfe, and take counsell of me, I haue al­ways sayd, and do say, that the Gentleman of necessitie must pay that he oweth, and what he hath, deuide at his will: and that to make restitution there néedeth a conscience, and too giue or deuide, iudgement and wisdome: if there passe eyther more or lesse betwixt vs two, it is without néede that youre noblenesse should speake it, or of my authoritie be confessed. For the things that naturally be graue, and do require secre­cie, if we may not auoyde that they iudge or presume of them, at the least we may cut off, that they knowe them not. In that your Lordship hath let flie some words, or lost some let­ter of mine, my Lady the Duchesse is not a little offended with me, and I do not maruell thereof, in that she not vnder­standing the misterie of your spéech, or the ciphers of my let­ters, did kindle hir choller, and raysed a quarrell against me: Beléeue me my Lorde Constable, that neither in iest or ear­nest, you ought to put secret things in confidence of women: for to the end that others shall estéeme them more, they will discouer any secret. I hold the husbands for very doltish that hide their money from their wiues, and trust them wyth their secrets: for in the money there is no greater losse than [Page 222] the goodes, but in discouering their secretes sometime he lo­seth his honour. The Consull Quintus Furius discouered al the conspiracie of the tirant Cateline to a Romane woman named Fuluia Torquata, the which manifesting the matter to another friend of hirs, and so from hande to hande it was deuulgate thorough all Rome, whereby it happened that Quintus Furius lost his life, and Cateline his life and honour. Of this exam­ple your Lordship may gather, that the things that be graue and effectuall, ought not to be committed to the confidence of women, muche lesse spoken in their presence: for to them it importeth nothing the knowledge of them, and their husbāds it toucheth much, if they be discouered. There is no reason to thinke, either is it iust to presume and say, that all women are like, for that we sée there are many of them honorable, honest, wise, discrete, and also secrete: whereof some haue husbands so foolish and such buzardes, that it shoulde be more sure to trust them than their husbands. Not offending the gentlewomen that be discrete and secrete, but speaking com­monly of all, I saye, that they haue more abilitie to breede children, than to kéepe secrets. As concerning this let it bée for conclusion, that it happen you not another day to talke be­fore any man, much lesse before any woman. That whyche we haue cōmuned and agréed betwixt our selues, there might rise thereof that your Lordship might remaine offended, and I disgraced. At this present there is nothing more newe in Court, to write, thā that I am not a little offēded, of that your Lordship dare discouer, & troubled with the wordes y^t my La­dy the Duchesse hath sent me, for which cause I beséeche you as my good Lord, and commaund you as my godsonne, that you reconcile me with my Lady the Duchesse, or commaund me to be forbidden your house.

From Valiodolid the eight of August .1522.

REnoumed Lord, and pitifull Consta­ple, I may saye by your honour, that whiche God saide by the Sinagog, which is to wit: Curauimus Babilonian, & nō est curata, relinquamus illam, which is to say: we haue cured Babilon, and it woulde not bée cured, let vs aban­don it. Sir I say thus muche, for that it hath happened not a little gracious vnto me, that whereas I craued in my letter that my Lady the Duchesse should not see any one part therof, notwithstan­ding you haue not only shewed it, and conferred theron with hir, but also had great game thereat. Wherevpon in the way of reuenge, I shewed youre letter vnto the Earle of Nassaro, who with Flemings, Portingalles, Almaines, and Spaniards, dyd also take some pastime therewith, yet was it my very good lucke that all the euill that I saide of women in your letter, my Lady the Duchesse conuerted into iest, in such wise that with greate reason I may praise hir for hir wisedome, and complaine me of your temeritie.

My Lord Constable, I shall most hartely desire you not to haue such care to make proues of triacle with my letters, but to reade them, and to teare or else burne them: for it may hap­pen that some day you might reade them before some not ve­ry wise, either yet of good condition, that might deuine to my hurt, that which they vnderstand not, to their owne profit.

Leauing this a part, your Lordship sayeth, y^t for my sake you haue remitted the displeasure you did beare against y^e Gentle­man, the which I accept for so great courtesie, and grace, as if vnto my selfe y^e iniurie had bin pardoned: for I am so tēder ouer him that is my dere friend, that al which I sée to be done in the behalfe of his person, & to the amendment of his estate, [Page 224] I set it downe in mine own account. Besides the accomplish­ment of my desire, your Lordship hath performed that which you were bound to doe: for Princes and great Lordes haue no licence to doe iniuries, eyther so muche as to reuenge them. For as you know, that whiche is in the meaner called wrath, in the mightie is named pride: and that which amōgst the smaller sort is chastisement, in the mightie is termed vē ­geance. As oft as you shall make coniugation with youre no­blenesse and conscience, and shall call to remembrance that you be a Christian and a Knight, it shall not mislike you of the offences you haue dissimuled, and it shall grieue you of the iniuries you haue reuenged. The pardoning of iniuries gy­ueth great contentation to the hart, and the desire of reuenge­ment is no small torment thereof. By that whiche is said, I woulde saye, that sometimes for some man to reuenge some little iniurie, he escapeth from thence much more iniuried. There be some iniuries, that onely are not to be reuenged, neither as muche as to bée confessed: for things of honour are so delicate, that the same day that any confesseth to haue re­ceyued an iniurie, from that day he bindeth himselfe to take reuengement.

The Consull Mamilius demaunded at a certaine time of Iulius Caesar, wherein it was that he had in this worlde most vaine glory, and in the remembring thereof did take most pleasure: to this the good Caesar made aunswer, by the Goddes immortall I sweare vnto thée (Oh Consul Mamilius) that of nothing in all this life I doe thinke that I deserue so muche glory, or any other thing doth giue me so greate ioy and con­tentation,A notable ex­ample to be imbraced. as pardoning of those that do offend me, and grati­fying such as do serue me. Oh wordes worthy prayse, and pleasant to heare, notable to reade, and necessary to followe: for if Iulius Caesar did beléeue as a Pagane, he did worke as a Christian, but we all beléeue as Christians, and worke lyke Paganes.

I speake it not without a cause that we liue as (Paganes, although we beléeue as Christians,) since in this case the ma­lice [Page 225] of man is growen so great, that many woulde pardon their enemies, and dare not for feare of their friends: for if they once perceiue them to speake of pardoning any man, presently they will say, they doe it more of cowardise, than of conscience. Be it as be may, and let euery man speake as he thinketh good in this case of pardon, your lordship hath done with that Gentleman like a faithfull Christian, and with me like a very friend: and beside fidelitie to God, and frendship to a friend. There is no more to be craued of any man in this world.

The memoriall that your Lordship sendeth me of y^t things that toucheth your goods and conscience, I (my Lord) wil con­sider therof at leysure, and wil answere vpon aduisement, be­cause in your charges or discharges, in such wise I will giue you counsel as in my brest no scruple shall remaine. In him y^t asketh counsell there ought to be diligence and no slackenes, for that many times businesse lieth so in corners and so farre from hand, that it shall be more sure counsell to trust to our weapon, than to staye for that bookes shall say: the contrary wherof is to be vsed of him y^e shall giue counsel vnto another, which is to wit, that he haue much wisedome and little dili­gence: for counsell that is giuen, if it be not vpon aduisement, most times bringeth some repentance.

The diuine Plato writing of Orgias the Greeke sayd,Hastie coun­sell breedeth repentance. My frend Orgias, thou writest vnto me, that I should counsell thée how thou shouldest behaue thy selfe in Licaonia, and on the other parte, thou makest great haste to haue an aunswere: which thing although thou doest rashly craue, I dare not per­forme, for that I doe much more studie to counsel my frends, than to read in scholes to Philosophers: the counsell that is giuen or taken, ought to be giuen by a man that is wise, for y^e good iudgement he hath, a learned man for the much that he hath read, an auncient man for that he hath séene,Worthy to be admitted a counsellour. a patient man for that of him selfe he hath suffered, a man without pas­sion bycause malice shall not blind him, a man without inter­est, for that couetousnesse shall not let him: Finally, I saye, [Page 226] that the shamefast man and of a noble minde, oughte to giue vnto his friendes money with liberalitie, and counsell with greate grauitie.

If it bée true (as it is moste certayne) that he oughte to haue all these conditions that shoulde giue counsell vnto an other, we dare wel say, that to giue counsell is an office so cō ­mon, that many vse it, and very few can performe it. There commeth a carefull man to aske counsell of his friende (in gi­uyng whiche counsell the one way or the other, there goeth lyfe, honour, goodes, and also conscience) and then his friend whose counsell he hath craued, without remouing or further thinking therof, voyde of all scruple or doubt, sayeth what is to be doone in that case (as though he had founde it written in the holy Scripture.)

All this I say vnto youre Lordship, bycause sometime you be offended and growe angrie, if I answere not presently vn­to your letters, and send you not your doubtes declared. As concerning that whiche you write of Marcus Aurelius, the case standeth thus: that I translated and presented it vnto Caesar not all finished, the whiche Laxao did steale from the Empe­roure, and the Quéene from Laxao, and Tumbas from the Quéene, and the Lady Aldonsa from Tumbas, and your lord­shippe from the Lady Aldonsa: in suche wise that my swea­tes ended in your theftes. The newes of this Courte is, that the Secretarie Cobos groweth priuate: the gouernour of Bre­fa doth kéepe silence: Laxao doth murmure and groane: the Admirall dothe write: the Duke of Veiar dothe hoorde and kéepe:Short newes from the court the Marquise of Pliego dothe plays: the Marquise of Villa Franca followeth his busynesse: the Earle of Osorno dothe serue: the Earle of Siruela doth praye: the Earle of Bu­endia doth sigh: Gutiere quixada doth iust: and the Iudge Ron­quillo doth whippe.

From Madrid the sixthe of Ianuarie 1524.

REnowmed Lorde, and cōplayning Constable, it hath chaunced me with very good grace, that you neuer writte me letter wherin there cō ­meth not some murmuring complaintes, say­ing: that I haue not answered to all that you haue written, or that I am very short in wri­ting, or that I write but now and then, or that I detayne the messenger, or that I write as one offended: in suche wise that neyther in me is any end of faults, nor in your Lordship any lacke of complaints: but if youre Lordship will note, and ac­cuse all the wants of considerations, negligences, slacknesse, simplicities, and doltishnesse that I haue: I can tell you, that you shall be wearied, and also tyred, for there is in me many things to be reprehended, and very few wherefore to be prai­sed. That which is in me to be praised is that I estéeme my selfe to be a Christian, kéepe my selfe from doing hurt to any man, and boast my selfe to be your friend. And that which is in me to be reprehēded is, that I neuer leaue to sinne, neither euer begin to amend: this it is my Lorde that doth vexe me, this it is that settes me aground, and this is the cause why that there neuer remayneth in me gladnesse: for as youre Lordship knoweth, matters of honor and of conscience, gyue great cause to be felt or considered, but not to be discouered. To write short or at large, to write late or in time, to write polished or without order, neither is it in the iudgemente of him that doth indite it, either in the pen that writeth y^e same: but in the matter that he hath in hande, or in the aptnesse of time he vseth: for if a man be disgraced, he writeth that hée ought not, and if in disposition, he writeth what he listeth. Homer, Plato, Aeschines, and Cicero, in their writings neuer ceasse to complaine, that when theyr common wealthes were in quiet and pacifyed, they studied, read, and writte: [Page 228] but when they were altered and vnruly, they coulde not stu­dy, & much lesse wrought. That which passed by those glorious personages in those days, euery day passeth now in my selfe, for if I bée well disposed and in temper, it is offred me by heapes, as muche as I woulde write, and if by chaunce I bée disgraced or distempred, I would not so muche as to take pen in hand. There be tymes that I haue my iudgement so kind­led and so delicate, that (as me thinketh) I coulde swéepe one graine of wheate, and cleaue a haire in sunder. At another time I haue it so dull and so farre remoued, that I can hardly hit a nayle with a stedge. I knowe not what to write of thys Court, but that the Marques of Peskara, is come hither from Italy, which doth recount from thence such & so many things, that if they be worthy to be put in Chronicle, they be not to be written in a letter. He that knoweth the condicione of Italy, will not maruell of the things therof: for in Italy no man may liue vnder the defence of iustice, but that to haue and too be able, he must be of power or else very priuate. Let him not desire to liue in Italy, that hathe not fauour of the king to de­fend, or power in the field to fight: for in Italy they neuer care to demaunde by Iustice, that whiche they may winne by the launce.The conditi­ons of Italy. In Italy they haue not to aske of him that hathe an e­state or goodes, of whome he did inherit them, but how be did winne them. In Italy to giue or take away estates or goodes, they séeke not right in the lawes, but in armes. In Italy hee that leaueth to take any thing, it is for want of power, and not for want of will. Italy is very pleasant to liue in, and very perillous to be saued. Italy is an enterprise whether many do go, and from whence few do returne. These and many other such like things the Marques of Peskara recounted vnto vs at the table of the Earle of Nassao, (many Lords being pre­sent, and some Prelates.) Giue thanks vnto God our Lorde that hath bred you in Spaine, & of Spaine, in Castile, and of Ca­stile in Castile the olde, and of Castile the olde in Burgos, where you are beloued and serued, for that in the other places or townes of Spaine, althogh they be noble & of power, they haue always some controuersies. The memoriall y^e your Lordship [Page 229] sent me this yeare to consider of, and vpon the same to giue you counsell, nowe I sende it you corrected with my consci­ence, and consulted with my science. No more. &c.

REnoumed and curious Constable, I haue re­ceiued a letter from your Lordshippe, as it ap­peareth by the same: although you be chief or heade of the Valascos, and I of the Ladrons of Gueuara, there you haue the déede, and here I haue the name. For entring into my cell, you haue stolne my Pictures, and ouerturned my Bookes. If there be a priuiledge of the Constables of Castile, (the reli­gious being at his prayers, that they shal enter and sacke his Cel, it were very iust to shew wherfore they did it, or else to restore vnto the owner the thing stolne. Your Lordship wri­teth vnto me, y^t you wil not restore the pictures that you haue takē away, except I send you written the auncient ordinan­ces that were made by the king Don Iuan in Toro, in suche wyse, that you doe not content your selfe with stealing, but that you will also extort and doe violence. I know not which was greater that day, your fortune or my mischance, in that my Cell was open: for I swear by the faith of a christian, that my lance in the sight of God wer much more worth, if I shuld vse as great circūspection in refraining my thoughts, as I vse in the keeping of my bookes. Your Lordeship sayeth, that the booke you hapned vpon in my librarie was olde, of an olde letter, of olde tyme, and of olde thinges, and dyd entreat of the prices how all things was sold in Castile, in the time that King Iohn the first did first raigne. I wyll not only wryte vnto you that which the good king did ordeyn in Toro, but also the rude and grosse spéeche wherewith that ordinaunce was written, whereof maye be gathered howe there hath bene [Page 230] changed in Spayn, not onely the maner of selling, but the ma­ner of speaking. That which hath passed in this case is, that the king Sir Iohn the first kept Court in the Citie of Toro, in the yeare. M.CCCC. and .vi. in which he did ordein very par­ticularly, not only how victuals shoulde be solde, but also for what prices the labourer should worke. The title of that or­dinance sayth these wordes which followeth, in so olde a kinde of spéeche, that the Spanyards themselues craue an interpre­ter, and is much to be maruelled at, but moste of all for the prices of thinges, is almoste incredible. Whiche I leaue vn­written, partly to be considered by these words that follow, wherwith the Author concludeth his Letter as followeth.

Thys Letter beeing read, I beleeue your Lordshippe will maruell of the good cheape that was in those dayes, and of the dearth that is nowe of victuals. And I beleeue that you will laugh at the rusticall spéeche that was then, and of the polyshed spéeche that nowe is vsed, although it be true, that the vantage that we haue nowe in the spéeche, they had then of vs in their liuing.

RIght magnificent and Indian Proconsull, a­bout twenty dayes past they gaue me a letter from your honour: and aboue fifteene dayes since I did write an answere of the same, the which no man to this day hath come to aske, neither do I know by whome to send it. Your lordship doth write that I should aduertise your honor what it is that they say here of your Lordship: to speake with liber­tie, and to say you the truth, they say al in this Court, that you are a very good christian,A plaine ad­uertisement. and a very vntractable Bishop: also they say, that you are long, prolix, negligent, and indetermi­ned in the affaires that you haue in hand, and with the futers [Page 231] that follow you, & which is worste of all, that many of them doe returne to their houses, spente and not dispatched: they saye that your Lordship is fierce, proude, impacient, and sus­picious, and that many doe leaue their businesse vndetermi­ned, to see themselues by your Lordship so ouershadowed. O­thers say, that you are a man that deales in troth, you speak truth, and that you are a friende of truth, and that a man gi­uen to lying was neuer séene to be your friend: also they say that you are right in that you commaund, iust in your iudge­ments, and moderate in your executions, and that whiche is more than all: that in matters of iustice, and in the deter­mination therof, you haue neither passion or affection:Notable con­ditions in a Iudge. they say that you are of muche compassion, pitifull, and an almes giuer: and that (whiche can not be spoken but to your greate praise) to many poore and in necessitie, from whom you take goods by Iustice, on the other parte you giue it them oute of your chamber. Your Lordeship hathe not to maruell of that which I say, neither doe I mislike of that which you doe, by­cause out of the one and the other, there may be gathered, that no man in this worlde is so perfect, but there is in him to bée amended, eyther any man so euill, that hath not in him to be praysed. The historie writers do note Homere of vain spéech, Alexander for furious, Iulius Caesar for ambicious, Pompeius for proude, Demetrius for vicious, Haniball for periured, Ves­pasian for couetous, Traiane for a wine bibber, and Marcus Au­relius for amorous: Amongst men so illustre, glorious, and heroicall as all these were, it is not much that your Lordship do pay for a pounde of waxe to be of their fraternitie: And this pounde is not bicause you are an euill Christian, but for that you were of weake pacience. There is no vertue more necessarie in him that gouerneth a common wealthe than is patience: for the Iudge that is measured in that he speaketh, and dissembleth the iniuries that they doe vnto him,May descend but not fall. he maye descende, but not fall. The Prelates and Presidentes that haue charge to gouerne people, and determyne cau­ses, muche more than other menne ought to lyue circum­spectly, [Page 232] and be of more suffering: for if we of you be iudged, be­léeue me that of vs also you are beholden, vewed and consi­dered. There is nothing in this worlde more sure, than he whiche is feared of many, ought also to feare many: for if I will be a Iudge of your goodes, for the same you will be a ve­wer of my life: and thereof it commeth to passe that manye times the Iudge is more damnified in his fame, than the su­rer in his goodes.

My Lorde all this is to be vnderstoode of Iudges that bée proude, of euill complexion and melancholike: Suche as bée milde, gentle, and suffring, they do not examine the liues they leade, but also they dissemble the weakenes they commit. He that hathe charge of the common wealth, it is necessary that he haue a milde condicion, in such wise that when he shall sée weakenes,Excellent gra­ces in a iudge. that he make strong: and where he séeth courage, that he praise it: and where he séeth want of foresight, that hée prouide: and where he séeth dissolution, that he chastise: and where he séeth necessitie, to succour: and where he séeth se­dition, to appease it: and where he séeth conformitie, to con­serue it: and where he séeth suspicion, to cleare it: and where he séeth heauinesse to remedie it: and where he séeth gladnes, to temper it: for after extreme pleasure and gladnesse, many times do follow no small distresses. If in your vertuous at­tempts ye take in hand, there shall happen some successe not conformable to youre good desires, and if it shall also chaunce that you be grieued therewith, impute not all the fault vpon your selfe: for the man that doth all that he can do, we cannot say to him, that he doth not that he ought to do, since in bloud I hold you for kinsman, in conuersation for friend, in autho­ritie for my good Lord,A friēdly per­swasion. and in deseruing for father, I shall not leaue to pray you as a father: and beséeche you as my good Lord, that you be mild in conuersation, and measured in your words: bycause of Iudges & Lordes as you are, at sometimes they do more féele a word, than of another the push of a laūce. But since in all this kingdome it is notorious that youre Lordship is honest of your life, and iust in youre tribunall or [Page 233] iudgements: I wold not gladly heare that those that do praise that which you do, should complaine of that whiche you say: with a Lorde of so high estate,Skilful elo­quence. and with a iudge of so prehe­minent an office, my pen should not haue presumed to write what it hath written, if your Lordship had not commaunded. My Lord I saide it, bycause if this that I haue here written vnto you shall not like you, that it may please you to sende too reuoke the licence that you haue giuen.

Also you will that I shall write vnto youre Lordship,Why y^e kings of Castile be called Catho­liques. if I haue founde in anye auncient Chronicle, what is the cause wherefore the Princes of Castile do call themselues not onely Kings, but also Catholique Kings. And that also I write vnto you, who was the first that called himself Catholique King, and what was the reason and the occasion to take this so ge­nerous and Catholique title. There were ynowe in thys Court of whome you might haue demaunded, and of whome you might haue vnderstood, in yeares more aunciēt, in know­ledge more learned, in bookes more rich, and in writing more curious than I am. But in the end my Lord be sure of this one thing, that that which I shall write, if it be not written in a polished stile, at the least it shall be all very true: Comming to the purpose, it is to be vnderstood, that the Princes in olde time did always take proud ouer-names:The ouer-names of re­noumed kings as Nabugodonozer that did intitle him selfe King of Kings, Alexander the greate the king of the world, the king Demetrius the conqueror of Ci­ties, the great Haniball the tamer of kingdomes, Iulius Caesar the Duke of the Citie, the king Mithridates the restorer of the world, the king Athila the whip of nations, the king Dionisius the host of all men, the king Cirus the last of the Gods, y^e king of England defender of the Church, the king of Fraunce y^e most Christian king, and the king of Spaine the Catholique king. To giue your Lordship a reckoning who were these kings, and the cause why they did take these so proude titles, to me it should be painfull to write, and to your Lordship tedious to reade, it is sufficient that I declare what you commaunde me, without sending what you craue not.

[Page 234] The yere, the day, y^e month and hour that Spaine was lost.It is to wit, that in the yere seuen hundreth fiftie two, the fift day of the month of Iuly vpon a sunday, ioyning to the ri­uer Bedalake, about Xeres on the frontiers, euen at the breake of day was giuen the last and most vnfortunate battell be­twixt y^e Gothes that were in Spaine, and the Alarues that had come from Africa, in whiche the sorowfull king Sir Rodrigo was slaine, and all the kingdome of Spaine lost. The Moore that was Captaine, and that ouercame this famous battell was named Musa, which did know so well to folow his victo­rie, that in the space of eight moneths he did win and had do­minion from Xeres in the frontieres, vnto the rocke Horadada, which is neare to y^e towne of Onnia. And that whiche séemeth to vs most terrible is, that the Moores did win in eighte mo­neths,Spaine lost in eight months, and hardly re­couered in eight hundred yeares. which in recouering was almost eight hundred yeres, for so many yeares did passe from the time that Spaine was lost, vntill Granado was wonne. The fewe Christians that escaped out of Spaine, came retiring vnto the mountaines of Onnia, neare vnto the rocke Horadada, vnto which the Moores did come: but from thence forward they passed not, either did conquer it, for there they found great resistance, and the land very sharp. And when they of Spaine did see that the king Sir Rodrigo was dead, and all the Gothes with hym, and that without Lord or head they could not resist the Moores, they raysed for king a Spanish Captaine that was named Sir Pelaius, a man venturous in armes, and of all the people ve­ry well beloued. The fame being spread thoroughout all Spaine, that the mountaine men of Onia had raised for king the good Sir Pelaius, all men generouse and warlike did re­paire vnto him, with whome he did vnto the Moores greate hurt: and had of them glorious triumphes. Thrée yeares af­ter they had raysed the good sir Pelaius for King, hée married one of his daughters with one of the sonnes of the Earle of Nauarn, who was named Sir Peter, and his sonne was called Sir Alonso. This Earle Sir Peter descended by right line of the linage of the blessed King Richardos, in whose tyme the Gothes did leaue the sect of the curled Arrius, by the meanes of [Page 235] the glorious and learned Archbyshop Leonard. The good king Pelaius being dead, in the eighteene yeare of his raigne, the Castilians exalted for king a sonne of his, that was named Fa­uila, the which two yeares after he began to raigne, going on a certaine day to the mountaine, meaning to flea the Beare, the Beare killed him.

And for that the king Fauila died without children, the Ca­stilians elected for king, the husband of his sister, whiche is to wit, the sonne of the Earle of Nauarne, who was named Alon­so, the whiche began his raigne in the yeare .vii.C.lxxij. hys raigne endured eightene yeares, which was as much tyme as his father in law the good King Sir Pelaius had raigned.

This good King was the firste that was named Alonso, which tooke his name in so good an houre, that since that daye amongst all the kings of Castile that haue bin named Alonso, we reade not of one that hath bin euill, but very good. Of thys good king Alonso the historiographers do recite many landa­ble things to recompt, worthy to be knowen, and exemplars to be followed. The King sir Alonso was the first that out of Nauarne entered Galizia, to make warre vppon the Moores, with whome be had many encounters and battells: in the ende he ouercame and droue them out of Astorga, Ponfera­da, Villa franca, Tuy and Lugo, with all their Countries and Castelles.

This good king Alonso was he that did win of the Moores the Citie of Leon, and builded there a royall place, to the ende all the Kings of Castile (his successors) should there be residēt, and so it came to passe, that in long time after, many Kings of Castile did liue and die in Leon. This good King Alonso was the firste that after the destruction of Spaine began to builde Churches and to make Monasteries and Hospitalles, in es­pecially (from the beginning) the Cathedrall churches of Lu­go, T [...]y, Astorga, and Ribe [...]ew, the which afterwards did passe to Mondonedo. This good king Alonso did bui [...]d many and ve­ry solempne Monasteries of the order of saint Benet and ma­ny hospitalles in the way of saint Iames, and many particular [Page 236] Churches in Nauarne, and in the Countrey of Ebro, whiche he endewed all with great riches, and gaue them opulent posses­sions. This good King Alonso was the first that did séeke, and commaunded to be sought with very great diligence, the holy bookes that had escaped the hands of the Moores, and as a ze­lous Prince commaunded that they shoulde bée caried to the Church of Oiendo to be kept, and gaue great rewards vnto such as had hid them. This good King Alonso was the firsts that commaunded that all the greate writers and singers should resort to Leon, to the end they should write great sin­ging bookes, and litle breuiaries to pray on, the which he gaue and deuided amongst all the Monasteries and Churches that he had founded: for the cursed Moores had not left a Church in Spaine that they did not ouerthrow, either booke that they did not burne. This good king Alonso was the first, that did begin to make all the Bishops houses ioyning to the Cathedrall Churches,To the end cold in winter neither heate in somer shold hinder resi­dents. bycause the heate in the Sōmer, either the colde in Winter, should not let them to be resident in the Quier, and to sée how they worshipped God.

This good king Alonso the first died in y^e age of .lxiiij. yeres, in the Citie of Leon, in the yeare of our Lord. 793. And hys death, of the Castilians and Nauarrois was as much bewayled, as of all men his life was desired. How acceptable his life was vnto God, it appeared most cleare, in that the Lord she­wed by him at his death: whiche is to wit, that at the point of his last breath, they heard ouer his chamber Angelike voices sing and say: Beholde how the iust dieth and no man maketh account thereof, his dayes be ended and his soule shall bée in rest. The lamentation was so great that was made through out Spaine for the deathe of this good King Alonso, that from thence forward euery time that any named his name, if hée were a man he put off his cap, and if a woman she made a re­uerence. Not thrée months after the death of the good King A­lonso, all the mightie of the Kingdome ioyned in parliament, wherein they did ordeyne and commaund by a publique E­dict, that from thence forward and for euermore none should [Page 237] presume to say coldly or driely, the king Alonso, but for his ex­cellencie they should cal him the king Alonso the Catholique, for that he had bin a prince so glorious, and of the diuine ser­uice so zelouse. This good king was sonne in law of sir Pelaius, The first in­uētiō of the ti­tle Catholike. he was the third King of Castile, after the destruction thereof: he was the first king of this name Alonso: he was y^e firste that founded Churches in Spaine: he was the first King at whose death such Angelike voyces were heard: he was the first king that was intituled Catholike: by whose deseruings and ver­tues all the kings of Spaine (his successors) be called to thys day Catholike Kings.

My Lorde, it séemeth to me, that since the kings of Spaine presume to inherit the name, they should also presume to fol­low his life, which is to wit, to make warre vpon the Moores, and to be fathers and defendours of the Church: And for that in the beginning of this letter, I did vse the spéech of a friend, and in this I haue accomplished what you craued as a seruāt. I say no more, but that our Lord be your protector, and gyue vs all his grace.

From Segouia the xij. of May. 1523.

MAgnificent and old enamored,Contrary sa­lutations in respect of his birth and ma­ners. being in Ma­drid the fourth of August, where I receyued a letter of youres, and for that it was torne, and the firme somewhat blotted, I sweare vnto you by the law of an honest mā, I could not find meanes to read it, or imagine or cal to remembrance who should write it. For notwithstanding we were acquainted when I was Inquisitor in Valencia, it is almost a thousand yeares since we saw eche other: after I awakened and called my selfe to remembrance, and did read,A sufficiente cause to forget olde acquain­tance. and read againe your letter, I fell in the reckoning that it was of Mosen Rubin my neighbour (I say Mosen Rubin the e­namored) [Page 238] I remēber that sometimes we were wont to play at the chesse in my lodging, and cannot aduise me that you gaue me the dame, but I do certainly remember, that you did not suffer me to sée your enamored. I remember that at the rock of Espadon, Assured notes of old acquaintance. at the encounter we had with the Moores, I escaped wounded, and you with a broken head, where wée could neyther finde Chirurgion to cure vs, or as muche as a clout to bind vs. I remember that in reward for that I cau­sed your bill to be firmed by the Quéene, you sent me a Mule which I did gratifie and not receyue. I remember that when we went to accompany the French King to Requena, whē we came to the seuen waters, I complayned for want of meate, and you for lacke of lodging: and in the ende, I receyued you into my lodging, and you went foorth to prouide victualles. I remember when Caesar commaunded me to repaire vnto To­ledo, you gaue me a letter to be deliuered vnto the Secretarie Vrias, vppon a certaine businesse of yours, to whome I dyd not only speake but also obtained your sute. I remember that chiding with a Chaplayne of youre wiues in my presence, when he said vnto you, that it were not conuenient you shuld deale fowly with him, for that he had charge of soules, & was a Curat, you made answer, that he was not a Curat of soules but of fooles. I remember that I counselled you and also per­swaded you, being in Xatina, that you shoulde giue to the Di­uell the loue that you wot of: and I also doe knowe, bycause they were tedious, perillous, and costly. I remember that af­ter in Algezira you reported (wéeping and sighing) that you had no power to chase them from your minde, either roote them from your hart: and ther I returned to say and sweare, that it was no loue, eyther pleasant to your persone, or too your estate conuenient. I remember that after we mette at Torres, where I demaunded to what conclusion you had fra­med your loue, you answered in a thousand sorrowes and tra­uelles, for that you had escaped from thence wounded, ab­horred, beflouted, infamed, and also be pilled. Of many other things, (I remember) I haue both séene and hard you speake [Page 239] and do, in that time that we were neighbours and couersant in Valentia: The issue of vnhonest loue. whereof (although we may talke) they are not too be written.

In this present letter you aduertise me that now you are enamored and taken with other new loues, and that since I sayd the troth in the first, you pray me to write my opinion in the second, (holding it for certaine, that my skil serueth to let bloud in the right vayne, and also to bind vp the wound.) Sir Mosen Rubin, I woulde you had written or demaunded some other matter: for speaking the very troth in this matter of loue, you are not in the age to follow it, eyther may it be con­tained with my ingrauitie to write it: of my habit, of my pro­fession, and of my authoritie and grauitie, you shoulde haue demaunded cases of counsell, and not remedies of loue: for I haue red more in Hostiensis that instructeth to giue counsell, thā in Ouid that teacheth to be enamored. Of a troth master Mosen Rubin I say, that it is neither you or I, that loue dothe like, and with whome she doth delight. For you are now olde, and I am religious, in such sort, that in you age doth abound, and in me wanteth libertie. Beléeue me sir & be out of doubt, it is not loue but sorow, not mirth but displeasure, not tast but torment, not recreation but confusion: when in the enamored there is not youth, libertie, and liberalitie. The man that is now entred into age, and wil be yong againe and enamored, they neuer terme him an old louer, but a filthy old foole, and (as God saue me) they haue great reason that so do call them: for old rotten strawes are more fit to make dung, than to bée kept. The God Cupid, and the Goddesse Venus, The conditi­ons of men apt for loue. will not haue in houshold but yong men that can serue, liberall that knowe to spend, and frée that can enioy and delight, pacient that can suffer, discréete that haue skill to talke, secret that knowe too kéepe silence, faithfull to gratify, and valiant that can perse­uer: he that is not endued and priuileged with these conditi­ons, it should bee more sound counsell for him to delue in the field, than to be enamored in pallace. For there are not in this world men more miserable than the enamored that be foo­lish. [Page 240] The doltish louer besides that his dame scorneth him, his neighbours iest at him: his seruantes beguile him, Pandar be­péeleth him, he is blinded with gilefull spéeche, euill imploy­eth his iuels, goeth without foresight, he is light of beliefe, and in the end findes himselfe beflouted. All the offices, crafts, and sciences in this world may be learned, except it be the skil and occupation to know to loue: the whiche, neither Salamon had skill to write, Asclepius to paint, Ouid to teache, Helen to re­port, either yet Cleopatra to learne, but that from the schoole of the hart it must procéede, and pure discretion must giue in­struction. There is not any thing wherein is more necessitie to be discréet, than in being a louer: for if a man haue hunger, cold, thirst, and werinesse, the only body feeleth it, but the fol­lies that is committed in loue, the hart chiefly bewayleth thē. To the end that loue be fixed, sure, perpetuall, and true, there must be equalities betwixt the enamored: for if the louer bée yong, and she old, or he old and she yong, or he wise and she a foole, or he a foole and she wise, or he loue hir, and she abhor­reth him, or she loue him, and he abhorreth hir: beléeue me sir and be out of doubt that of fained louers, they shall ende assu­red and vnfained enemies. Master Mosen Rubin, I thought good to say thus muche vnto you, to the ende that if the louer that you haue now chosen be in possession of thrée score and thrée yeres as you are,A louer in possession of threescore and three yeares. there is no greate perill that you loue and know hir. For most of the time you shall spend, shall bée in recounting vnto hir the louers that you haue holden, and she in reckoning vp vnto you, all such as hath serued hir.

Speaking more in particuler, I woulde knowe to what pur­pose a man as you that hath passed thréescore yeares, that is full spent, and laden with the goute, will nowe take a Curti­san yong and faire, which will rather occupy hir selfe in rob­bing, than delighting of you? To what ende will you haue a loue of whome you may not be serued, but to bind vp grieues, and to driue away flies? Wherefore will you haue a daintie Dame, since betwixt you and hir there may rise no either cō ­uersation or communication, but to relate and count recko­nings [Page 241] and tales, and how little you haue eaten all the daye, and howe manie tymes you haue tolde the clocke that night? For what cause wold you haue a loue since you want strēgth to folowe hir, goodes to serue hir, patience to suffer hir, and youth to enioye hir? Why will you haue an amorous dame vnto whome you can not represente howe muche you haue suffered and endured for hir sake, but reporte howe the goute is rysen from the hande to the shoulders? To what conclu­sion will you loue an infamous woman, whiche will not en­ter in at your dores that daye whiche you cease to giue hir, or shall grow negligent to serue hir? To what consideration doe you delite to haue a wanton loue, vnto whome you shall not dare to deny any thing that she craueth, either chide for anye displeasure she giueth? To what seruice will you haue a law­lesse loue, who may not be serued conformably to youre good, but agréeable to hir foolishnesse? For what skill will you haue alemman, which must be gratified for the fauour she beareth you, and dare not complayne of the ielosies she shal demaund of you? For what conceyt will you haue a seconde Lais, which when she shall flatter you, it shall not only be to content you,A chief cause of courtizans loue. but something to craue of you? For what intente will you haue a loue, before whome you must néedes laugh, althoughe the goute make you raue? For what meaning will you haue a dissolute dame, with whom you shall spend all your goodes, before you shall haue acquaintance with hir conditions? And why desire you a lustie Lasse, with whom you are ioyned for money, and also susteyn hir with delights, and yet in the end must depart from hir with displeasures? If you M. Mosen Ru­bin with these conditions will néedes be enamoured, be it so in a good houre, for I am sure it will rayne into your house.

To your age and infirmitie, it were more cōuenient to haue a friend to recreate, than a Lamia, with whom to putrifie. Sa­mocratius, Nigidius, and Ouide did wryte many bookes,The authors of remedies for loue, and the frute they reaped therof and made greate treatyses of the remedies of loue, and the re­warde of them, is, they sought remedies for others, and v­sed none for themselues, all thrée dyed, persecuted and ba­nished, [Page 242] not for those offences they committed in Rome, but for the loues they attempted in Capua. Let Ouide say what hée dreameth, Nigidius what him pleaseth, Samocratius what hée thinketh good, but in fine, the greatest and best remedy against loue, is to flée the conuersation and to auoyde the occasion: for in causes of loue wée sée many escape that doe flée it, and ve­rye fewe that abide it. Sir take you héede, that the Dinel de­ceyue you not in your reckenyng (a freshe to be enamoured) since it is not conuenient for the health of your person, either aunswerable to the authoritie of youre house: For I assure you of my faith, that sooner you shall be deliuered of the dis­pleasures of your Courtizan, than of the paynes of the goute. My pen hath stretched out farther than I thought,The begin­ners of qua­rels do some­tyme catche a wipe. and also farther than you would: but since you were the first that laid hand to weapon, the fault is not myne, if I haue hapned to giue you a wype. To the Father Prior of Corta caeli, I sende a riche palia, for my sake I pray you to cōmaunde that it bée giuen him, & in my behalf to visit him, bicause I lodged long time with him, & am much bound & affectioned vnto him. No more but that our Lord be your protector, and kéepe you from an euill lemman, and heale you of your goute.

From Madrid the thirde of Marche .1527.

Contrarye congratulati­ons in respect of his functiō and maners. REuerent and seditious Prelate, Zalobrena the sergeant of your bande gaue mée a Letter of yours, whiche presently I coulde not vnder­stand, but after I had read, & returned againe to reade the same, I did sée it was no letter, but a bill that the Bishop of Zamora had sente: wherein he dyd desie and threaten that he woulde kill me, or commaunde mée to be chastized. The cause of this defiaunce your Lordshippe declareth to procéede, for that in Villa Bra­xima I withdrew Sir Peter Giron from your parcialitie, and [Page 243] counselled hym to cease to followe you, and retire to serue the king. I my Lorde doe accept your defiance,The lykely­hode of a no­table combat. and hold my selfe defyed, not that wée kill our selues, but that we examin our selues, not to the ende wée goe vnto the fielde, but to in­commende our selues to reason. Which reason as a viewer of our factes shall declare whether of vs is moste culpable, I in followyng and obeying the Kyng, or you in altering and reuolting the kingdome. I remēber me being as thē but yong in Trecenon, a manour house of Gueuara, I did sée my vncle Sir Ladron, & sir Beltram my father, mourne in black for your father, & (in verie trouth my lord Bishop) seeing you as I did sée you in Villa Braxima compassed with artillery, accōpanied with souldiours, and armed at al points: with more reason we might weare gréen, bicause you liue, than black for y^t your father died. The diuine Plato of two thinges did not discerne which first to bewayle, that is to wit: the death of good men, or the life of the wicked: for it is a most great grief vnto the heart to sée the good so soon to die, and the wicked so long time to liue. A certain Greeke béeing demanded for what cause he shewed so great sorow in y^e death of Agesilaus? He answered: I wéepe not bicause Agesilaus died, but for that Alcibiades re­maineth liuing, whose life offendeth the Goddes, and escan­dalizeth the world. A certain Gentleman of Medina (who is named Iohn Cnaso) reported that being appointed to haue the ouersight of your bringing vp, he was driuen to change foure Nursses in six moneths: for that in nursing you were fierce wayware, and importune in suckyng. It séemeth vnto mée my Lorde Bishop, that since in your childhoode you were so paynfull, and in your lyfe so sedicious, it were great reason, that in your olde yeares as you shoulde be quiet: if not for your deseruing, yet to repose you shoulde seeke quietnesse: holding as you haue in youre possession thrée score yeare comple­ted▪ and shortely maye boaste youre selfe of thrée score and tenne accomplyshed, it seemeth to mée no euyll counsayle that you offer (if it lyke you) the flower to God, for that you bestowed so muche branne in the worlde. [Page 244] Since your gardein is blasted, your vinedage ended, youre floure fallen, your primetyme finished, your youthe passed, you olde age come, it were muche more conueniente to take order for amendment of olde sinnes, & reformation of youre life, than to execute the office of Captaine ouer rebelling cō ­moners. If you will not followe Christe that made you, yet folow sir Lewes of Acuna that begat you: at whose gates ma­ny poore euery day did féede, and at your gates we sée not but playing and blaspheming souldiours.

A lewde of­fice for an old bishop.To make of souldiours priests, it passeth: but of priests to make souldiors, is an acte moste scandalous: whervnto I wil not say your Lordship consented, but that you exactely haue perfourmed. You broughte from Zamora to Tordissillas, thrée hundreth Massing Priestes, not to instructe the Kinges sub­iectes, but to defend that Town against the King: and to re­moue your Lordship from euill toungs, as also for the better saluation of their soules,Prelates for the bodie. you brought them from Zamora, in the beginning of Lent, in such wise that like a good pastor & an excellent Prelate, you remoued thē from praying to fighting: in the assault which y^e Gentlemē gaue at Tordessillas against your bande, I saw with mine eyes one of your priests with an harquebuse ouerthrow eleuen men behinde a window, & the grace was, that when he did leuell to shoote, he blessed him selfe with his péece, and killed them with the pellot. I sawe also, before the assaulte was ended, the Souldiours of oure side, that were without, giue that good Prelate such a blow in the forehead with an arrow, that the death of that caytise was so suddain, as he had neither time to confesse his sinnes, nor yet so muche as to blesse himselfe. But nowe the soule of that Bishop that remoued that priest from his churche, & the soule of that priest that slew so many men,Doubtfull to be answered. what excuse can they haue before men, and what accounte maye they make to God? It were a sinne to take you from the warres, but much greater to make you of the church, since you be so offensiue, & in nothing scrupulous, & hereof we be most certain, for y^t you make no account to fight & to kill, and also to be irregular.

[Page 245]I woulde gladly knowe in whether booke you haue read most, which is to wit, in Vegetius, whiche entreateth of mat­ters of warres, or in S. Austine his booke of Christian doctrine? and that whiche I durste auouche is, I haue séene you many tymes handle a partisan, but neuer anye booke: and it sée­meth vnto mée not a little gréeuous, that to the souldioures that assaulted and fel at the taking of the fort of Impudia, they say, that you sayde: So my sonnes vp, fight and die, beholde, my soule for yours, since you dye in so iust an enterprise, and a demaunde so holye. My Lorde Bishop,A Bishoppe vtterly voyde of a scrupu­lous consci­ence. you well knowe that the Souldiors that there were slayne were excommu­nicate for sacriledge, traytours to the King, robbers of chur­ches, théeues on high ways, enemies of the common wealth, and maintainers of ciuill warre. It is most euident, that the soule of that Bishop that speaketh suche blasphemie, is not much scrupulous, that desireth to die as a souldiour: neither doe I maruell that he desireth to die like a desperate Souldi­our, that neuer made account of his estate as a Bishoppe. If you had raysed this warre to reforme the common wealth,A bishop figh­ting for a bi­shoprike. or to haue made frée your countrey from some oppression and taxation, it might séeme you had occasion, although in déed no reason) but your Lordship hath not risen against the king for the weale of the kingdom, but to make exchange for a better Bishoprike, and to driue the Erle of Alua de Lista, out of Za­mora. If you enter in reckening with all those of your bande, which goe in your companie, certainly you shall fynde that passion was your foundation, & not reason, neither zeale of the common wealth, but ouermuche desire in euery one to aug­ment his owne house and estate.

Sir Peter Giron woulde haue the possession of Medina: the Earle of Saluatiera commaunde the royall Pastures: Fernan­do de Aualoes reuenge his iniurie: Iohn de Padilia be maister of S. Iames: Sir Peter Lasso the onely ruler in Toledo: An Abbot fighting for a bishoprike. Quinta­nilla Controller of Medina: Sir Fernando de Hulloa expell his brother out of Toro: the Abbot of Compludo obtaine the Bi­shoprike of Zamora: the Doctor Barnardine, the Auditor of Va­liodolid: [Page 246] Ramir nimez the possession of Leon: and Charles de Arrelano ioyne Soria with Vorobia. The wise man sayeth, hée séeketh occasion that will depart from a frend: in like maner we may say, that sedicious men séek not but rebellious times: for that it séemeth vnto them whiche want & are in necessitie, while rebellion lasteth, they may feed of the sweate of other mens brows, and profit by their neighbors losse. The arte sée­meth not a litle gracious which you haue vsed to deceiue and persuade Toledo, Burgos, Valiodolid, Leon, Salamanca, Auila, and Segouia to rebell, saying, that by this meane they shal be esta­blished and made frée, as Venize, Geneua, Florence, Sena, and Luke: in suche wise, that from hencefoorth they shall not bée named Cities, but Seigniories. Musing what was to be said in this matter: a good space I had my pen in suspence, and in the end, I conceiued that vpon so great a vanitie and mischief (neuer lyke heard of) there is nothing to be sayd, much lesse to be written. For I hold it for certain and dare auouch, that you make not those Cities frée, but a praye, not entitle them with seigniories, but profit your selues with their riches. Those y^e wil take in hand any enterprise that naturally is seditious or offensible, haue not to consider of the occasion that moueth thē to ryse, but only the good or euil end which therof may procéed: for all famous offences haue had always a beginning of good respects. Silla, Marius, and Cateline, whiche were famous Ro­mains, and glorious Captaines, vnder the coloure to delyuer Rome from euill gouernours, made themselues tirants of the same. At sometymes it is lesse euill in greate Cities to beare with some want of Iustice, than to moue the people, and ther­by to raise warre: for that war is a certain net that catcheth away all weale from the common wealth.

The great Alexander being demaunded for what cause hée would be Lord of the whole worlde, made answere: All the warres that are raised in this worlde, is for one of these thrée causes, which is, eyther to haue goodes, many lawes: or else many Kings: therfore would I obtain the same, to cōmaund throughout the whole worlde, that they honour but one God, [Page 247] serue but one king, and obserue but one law. But let vs now conferre your Lordship with Alexander the great, and we shal finde, that he was a King, and your Lorship a Bishoppe: he a Pagan, and you a Christian: he bred in the warres, and you in the Church: he neuer heard of the name of Christe, & you haue sworne to obserue his Gospell: and with all these condi­tions he would not for the whole worlde haue but one king, and your lordship wold haue seuen only for Castile. I say vnto your Lordship, that you wold establish seuen kings in Castile, for that you would make the seuen Cities of the same seauen seigniories. The good and loyal gentlemen of Spayn vse to re­moue kings, to make one king, and such as be traytours and disloyall, do vse to remoue the King, to make kings.

For vs and our friends, we wil no other God but Christ, no other law but the Gospell, or other king but the Emperoure Charles the fifth. And if you and your commoners will haue an other king, and an other lawe, ioyne your selues with the Curate of Mediana, which euery sunday doth establishe and take away kings in Castile. And this is the case. In a certain place named Mediana, which is néere vnto Palomera of Auila there was a Biskay priest, and halfe a foote, whiche was mo­ued with so great affection to Iohn of Padilia, that at the tyme of bidding of beads on the holy days, he recōmended after this maner: My brethren, I commend vnto you one Aue Maria for the most holy communaltie, that it neuer decay. I commende vnto you an other Aue Maria for the maiestie of king Iohn of Padilia, y^e God may prosper him. I cōmend vnto you an other Aue Maria for the Quéenes highnesse our mistresse and Lady Mary of Padilia, that God may preserue hir: for of a troth these be the true kings, and all the rest before time were tyrantes. These prayers continued aboute thrée wéekes (little more or lesse.) After whiche tyme Iohn of Padilia, with his menne of warre passed that waye, and the souldiers that lodged in the priests house inticed away his woman, drank his wine, kilde his hennes, and eate vp his bacon. The sundaye folowing, in the Churche he sayde: It is not vnknowne vnto you my [Page 248] brethren, howe Iohn of Padilia passed this way, and howe his souldiors hath left me neuer a henne, haue eaten me a flitch of bacon,The prelate lost his Cate­lina. haue drunke out a whole tinage of wine, and haue caried away my Cateline, I say, for that from hencefoorth you shall not pray vnto God for him, but for king Charles, and for our Lady Quéene Ione, (for they be the true Princes) & giue to the diuell these straunge kings.A tinage is an earthen can vsed in Spain of no litle syse to holde their wine. Behold here my Lord Bi­shop, how the Curate of Mediana is of more power than your Lorshippe, for that he made and vnmade Kings in thrée wée­kes, whiche you haue not performed in eyght moneths: and yet I doe sweare and prophesie, that the King that you shall establish in Castile, shall endure as little as that king whiche was made by the Curate of Mediana. No more but that our Lorde be your protectour, and lighten you with his grace.

From Medina del rio secco, the .xx. of December .1521.

Repugnancie in respect of estate and maners. REuerend & disquiet bishop, by the let­ter of Quintanilla of Medina, I was aduertised in what maner your lord­ship receiued my letter, and also vn­derstoode, that in the ende of reading thereof, presentely you beganne to groue, and murmuring, sayd: Is this a thing to be suffred, that the tong of Frier Antony of Gueuara, may bee of more power than my launce? and that he be not contented to haue withdrawne Sir Peter Giron, (euen from betwixte oure hands) but also now euen here doth write me a thousand blasphemies. It hath much pleased me, that my letter was so wel cōfected, y^t with such swiftnes it pierced vnto your heart: for I did not write that you should read it, but that you shuld reade and feele it. The patiēt that doth determine to receiue a litle [Page 249] rubarbe, suffreth the bitternesse that it leaueth in the throte, for the profite it doth him against his feuer. I woulde say, that it shall little profite your Lordship, though you know how to complaine: if you do not likewise determine how to amende: for that your Lordship is an Oforio in bloud, in dignitie a Bi­shop, in authoritie a gentleman or a knight, and in profession a Christian, I hold you in great reuerence: but ioyntly there­with, as concerning your furious complainses and threates, I esteeme them very little: for there is a God that beholdeth his seruants, and a Prince that standeth for his subiects.

I conceyue no euil, that you be a warriour, and that you go armed, vpon condition that your armour be such, as the Apo­stle speaketh of, quòd arma militiae nostrae non sunt carnalia sed spi­ritualia: bicause your warre ought not to be with enemies but with vices, and as Seneca sayth, more glory was deserued by Cato in banishing vice out of Rome, than of Scipio for conque­ring the Carthaginians in Africa. But since you would needes go on warfare, and make warre vppon the whole common wealth of Castile, to foyle your enemie the Earle of Alua de Lista, what faulte had the King and Quéene committed? To pardon many for the merite of one is the office of Christians, but to chastise many for one mans offence is the condicion of tyrants: in suche sorte,The conditiō of tyrants. that from henceforth we may not call you Bishop of Zamorra, but tirant of the common wealth.

Many times I stay, to cōsider to what purpose your Lord­ship would néedes disobey the king, alter the kingdome, raise vp the people, make armies, ioyne with communers, cast a­way your selfe, and hurt and endamage the common welth: I am not able to comprehend any occasion, muchlesse any rea­son (except it be that, as you desire to be Archbishop of Toledo you would obtaine by strength, that whiche you deserue not by vertue.) If the matter might come in iudgement before God, yea, and also before mē, your Lordship may be sure, that more demerites would be found in you to be dispossessed of your Bishoprike that you now possesse, than merits where­fore to giue you the Archbishoprike that you craue. The dig­nities [Page 250] of the Church of God ought not to be giuen vnto suche as doth procure them, but vnto those that do refuse them: for so muche the more worthy is he to gouerne soules, that thin­keth himselfe most vnworthy to performe the same. To de­serue the Archbishoprike of Toledo, your Lordship ought ra­ther to shed teares, than bloud: to be in the temple, and not in the fields: to accompany the religious, and not souldiers: too pray at your houres, and not to alter the common wealthe: but your Lordship séeing that you cannot deserue by vertue, you determined to obtaine by armed strength. You ought too haue remembred that God hath chosen you for a Bishop, and not for a Captaine,The office of a Bishop. for the Church, and not for the warre: to preach, and not to fight: to be inuested with surples, and not with a shirt of maile: to succour Orphanes, and not souldiers: and also to giue orders, and not to order stales and ambushes to skirmish. The first bishop of this world which was S. Peter, founde amongst all the Apostles but two swordes to defende Christ, and there is to be founde a M. Hagbuts within youre house to ruinat this Realme. In such wise we haue to praise you, not for your bookes that you reade in, but for the armour you do possesse.

Maldonado (your seruant and my friende) hath aduertised me, that you haue giuen him a benefice of ij. C. Ducats. I de­manding if he vnderstood to read his diuine prayers? He made aunswere: Sir you are in a wrong accompt, for at this instāt in the house of my Lord Bishop, none hath skill to pray, but we all learne to skirmish.A Bishop practiseth his houshold not to pray but to skirmish. The houses of good prelates, are not but certaine schooles of vertues where none may haue acquaintance with lies, or learne to play the glutton, or too goe at large, or to be idle, either yet to delight in much talke, either to quarrell, or to be ambitious: which is not so in your house, where all become absolute, and glory and presume too be dissolute. When the gouernours of the kingdome thys other daye sente me thither vnto you, to offer condicions of peace with those of the conuocation in the towne of Braxima, and sawe your Lordship armed, like a clocke compassed with [Page 251] souldiers, inuironed with such multitude of shot, acompanied with such numbers of commoners, and laden with affaires, and businesse of so greate importance, I was in a dout with my selfe, whether that which I saw was a dreame, or else the Byshop Sir Turbin were risen againe from deathe. If you will not call to remembrance that you are a Christian, that you are a priest, that you are a Preacher, and that you are a natiue of this kingdome: yet become aduised that you descen­ded of noble bloud, and of an auncient house (although it bée most true, that as you be an Osorio in bloud, so are you rash and desperat in condition.) It grieueth me (my Lord Bishop) that you vse armour, not as a wise man, but as one ouerrash,Armour vsed to wrong pur­pose. not as one that defendeth, but as one that offendeth, not as you ought, but as you list: for I perceiue you follow opinion, and flie reason: all your displeasure riseth for following your will, and imploying your abilitie to a wrong purpose, but as Seneca sayth, in the house where will doth commaunde, very sildome reason doth inhabit, and (as Muscoso maketh report,) that eating many times you saye at youre table, is there no man that will take me master Gueuara, to hang him at a windowe for the disceite and intising away of sir Peter Giron out of oure percialitie? To say that I deceyued him, I denie it: to saye that I deliuered hym from disceite I confesse it: and whether it be good or euill for him to remayne there or turne hyther, I am sure he repenteth not to haue beléeued me, neyther I to haue giuen hym counsell.

Youre Lordship doth well remember when youre Cap­taine Lares did take me, and so taken brought me before you: and notwithstanding you reprehended and delte euill with me, I requested you on the behalf of the gouernours, that you would leaue warre, and accept an honest concorde, in whyche Embassage you estéemed me very little, of that I said made smal accompt also, and skoffed at that which I spake. My lord Bishop you do well knowe, how many euil dayes I haue pas­sed, how many iniuries I haue suffred, what froward words with me haue bene vsed, what perills I haue past, what [Page 252] despites haue bene done vnto me, with what threatnings I haue bin threatned, and also what slaunders they haue raysed vpō me: for that I haue folowed the King, and procured peace vnto the Kingdome. When I was at the towne of Braxima with your Lordship and with the Commoners, I preached nothing vnto you but penitence, and to the kings gouernours at Medina del rio secco I perswaded nothing but clemencye: for it was impossible, if the one did not repent, and the other pardon, that these kingdomes might be remedied, neither so many euilles and daungers cut off. Now since I haue traue­led after this maner, and suffered so greate trauails, I knowe not why you should call me traytor, desire to kill me, and to hang me at a window, since I desire not to sée your Lordship hanged, but amended. Titus Liuius maketh mention of a Ro­mane Patricide,A wrong meane to ob­tayne fame. who being ambitious of honour, & a coward to obtaine the same, determined to set fier on y^e treasure house where all the people of Rome layd vp their treasure. This e­uill disposed fellow being taken, tormented, and examined of the cause of his enterprise, made answer: I would haue done this hurt to the commō welth, for that writers should make mention of me in their Chronicles: whiche is to wit, as tou­ching the treasures of Rome, though I had not abilitie to ob­taine them, yet had I skill to burne them. I thought good too put youre Lordship in remembraunce of this historie, to the end you may vnderstande, considering I am Preacher and Chronicler vnto his maiestie, in which imperiall Chronicle, there shall be sufficient report of your Lordship, not that you were a father and a pacifier of your countrey, but rebellious, and an inuentor of these warres. How maye I with troth write of the rebellion of Toledo, the death of the ruler of Se­gouia, the taking of Tordesillas, the imprisonment of the coun­sell, the siege of Alaheios, the conuocation of Auila, the burning of Medina, the alteration of Valiodolid, the scandall of Burgos, the losse of Toro, Zamora, and Salamanca, without I make mention of your Lordship? How may I make report of the euils that Vera the Lockier hath cōmitted in Valiodolid: Bo­badilla [Page 235] the shereman in Medina: the Lockiar in Auila, A sclaunde­rous frater­nitie. and Bur­gos: and in Salamanca the Skinner: but that in that holy bro­therhood we must find the Bishop of Zamora? I report me vn­to you my Lord Bishop, shall I raise any slaunder vpon you, by reporting in my Chronicle, that I sawe at the towne of Braxima, all the artillerie brought togither to the gates of your house. I saw watch & ward kept rounde about your lodging, I saw all the Captaines of your bands féede at your table, I saw them all ioyne to consult in your chamber, and that al did exclame for long life to the bishop of Zamora? All these things which your Lordship hath done, I woulde gladly leaue them vnwritten, if your Lordship would amend, and also remedie the mischiefe you haue in hand: but I beholde you with suche eyes, and with such an opinion: that you will rather lose your life wherewith you liue, than the opinion which you follow. I conceiued no small compassion, when this other day I saw you compassed with the commoners of Salamanca, with vil­laines of Saiago, with manquellers of Leon, with rebelles of Zamora, with Cappers of Toledo, and with hit makers of Va­liodolid. All which in generall you are bound to content,Difficult to content. and not licence to commaund. This kind of people that you leade of the communaltie is so vaine and fickle, that with threates they will followe you, with intreatance bée sustayned, with promises be blinded: fighting with feare, walking with sus­pition, liuing vpon hope: not contented with little, or pleased with gifts: for their intente is not to followe those that haue most right, but such as giue best wages. There is a certayne difference betwixt vs and you, which is: that we whiche fol­low the King, hope to be rewarded, but you haue no suche hope, but by violence to please your selues, which we knowe well that you your selfe haue promised to your selfe the Arch­bishoprike of Toledo, Vaine promi­ses. we well knowe that Iohn of Padilia (hée himselfe) hath promised vnto himselfe the Mastership of S. Iames, we do know that Clauero (himselfe) hath promised vn­to himselfe the Mastership of Alcantara, we well knowe that the Abbot of Compludo (he himselfe) hath promised vnto hym [Page 254] selfe the Bishoprike of Zamora, we well know that the Prior of Vadiodolid (he himselfe) hath promised vnto himselfe y^e Bi­shoprik of Valentia, sir Peter Pinentel, Maldonado, Quintanilla, Sarabia, A quent of Maruedis which be 6. for a penny. amount. 2500 Dukats. y^e Licēciat Barnardine, and the doctor Cowsehed: None of these at this day wil giue their hope for a good quēt of rent. Ramir Nunez & Iohn Braue do accept to be called Lordes, Iohn Braue for y^t he hath hope to be Earle of Chincon, & Ramir Nu­nez Earle of Luna: it may be that one of thē or both may first lose their heads, before they haue obtayned their estates.

Wherefore my Lord Byshop, retire, repent, and amend, by­cause the loyaltie of Castile doth not suffer but one king, ney­ther endure but one lawe. No more, but that our Lord bée youre instructor.

From Tordesillas the tenth of March. 1521.

Repugnancie of speech in respect of no­ble bloud, and want of iudge­ment. MAgnificent and vnaduised Gentlemā, the let­ter that with youre owne hande you haue written vnto mée, and the credite and trust you sent me, with your seruant Montaluan, I haue receyued here in Medina: and to say the troth, I did not more delight to sée your leter, than I receyued griefe to heare youre message: for that it sée­meth you determine to procéede with youre enterprise, and to finish the ruine of this common wealth. Sir you do well vnderstande, at the assemblie of Auila, I saide vnto you, that you were lost, deceyued, and solde: bycause Hernando of Aui­la, Sir Peter Giron, the Bishop of Zamora, and the other com­moners, had not inuented this Ciuill warre with zeale too redresse the offences in the common wealth: but to take vengeance of their enemies. Sir also I saide vnto you, that the resolution of that assembly séemed vnto me great vani­tie and no small vaunte,A friuolous deuise. and that which the common people demaunded, which is to witte, that in Castile all shoulde con­tribute, [Page 255] all shoulde be equall, all shoulde paye, and that they should be gouerned after the manner of segniories in Italy, the whiche is scandalous to heare, and blasphemie to speake: for as it is impossible to gouerne the body without armes, so is it impossible that Spaine be sustayned without Gentlemen. Also I said vnto you, that being of bloud vndefiled, of persone so well compact, in armes so expect, of minde so valiant, in iudgemente so aduised, in condition so well liked, in age so tender, and in the flowers of youre youth, it were muche more conuenient for you to serue the King in Flaunders, Notable qua­lities euill imployed. than Castile to trouble his kingdome. Also I did aduertise you, how in that of late the King had created the Admiral and the Con­stable for gouernours, whiche with all the mightie and no­bles of Spaine, ioyned in Medina del rio Secco, to giue order for the succour of Tordisillas, and to chase away the Rebelles frō the town of Braxima, my desire and iudgemēt is, that you shoulde rather estéeme to be a souldier with the Gentlemen, thā a Captaine ouer Rebelles. Also I said vnto you, that y^e go­uernours had commaunded a scaffold to be made, wherevp­pon a King at armes beeing ascended made publique procla­mation, that all Knightes and Gentlemen that repaired not within fiftéene dayes with Horse and Armour vnder the Kings Standerd to serue and be resident, should bée holden as traytors and disloyall, and that it séemed vnto me that you shoulde rather haue accomplished that which the gouernours cōmanded, than that which in Toledo they had desired. Also I sayde vnto you that commonly ciuill and popular warres decay in puissance, preuaile sildome, and may not indure, and after they bée finished, and the common wealth pacified:In rebellon vse to pardon the poore, and to behead the Captaines. the Kings and Princes of the same doe vse for custome to par­don the commō people, and behead the Captaines. Also I sayd vnto you that you shoulde not blinde your selfe with foolishe lyes, eyther with wordes of vncertaine purposes, whyche is to witte: if anye shall saye vnto you that you are the fa­ther of the countrey, the refuge of prisoners, the repaire of the grieued, the defender of the common wealthe, and [Page 256] the restorer of Castile: for the very same persons that to daye do name you redeemer, on the morrow will proclaime you traytor. Also I sayd vnto you that you ought to haue before youre eyes, that your father Peter Lopes, and your Vncle Sir Garcia, and your Brother Gutiere Lopes, and all your friends and alies, be all in seruice of y^e King in the gouernours Camp: and that you alone (of all your linage) amongst rebelles bend against the King, whereof there followeth that you alone be­ing in fault, they here in generall receiue the shame.

Also I said vnto you, that since the King had giuen you no cause of offence, either taken from you any rewarde or boun­tie, or commaunded you any iniustice. It were very vniust that you shoulde be the whip wherewith Hernando of Aualos should reuenge his iniurie. For if he hath sworne to be reuen­ged of Xeues, also you are bound to be faithfull vnto the King. Also I saide vnto you, that you shoulde giue to the Diuell the prophestes, witchcrafts, and enchantments of the Lady Ma­ry your wife: whiche is sayde that she and a certaine woman slaue do practise? for that to speake and practise with the Di­uell, it may not be otherwise but that she-looseth hir soule, and you to lose your life and honor. Also I said vnto you, that you should not care to attempt to enter the Couent of Vcles, with intent to be master of Saint Iames, either to throw Sir Iohn del rio Secco out of Toledo, since it were a vanitie to thinke it, and a great lightnesse to take it in hande, for to be master of saint Iames, you haue not done suche seruice wherefore it should be giuen you, neyther sir Iohn hath done any treason, why it should be takē from him. So many and so good Coun­sells, so many and so profitable aduises, so many and so per­swasible words, so many and so importune desires, so many and so great promises, so many and so great assurances, as I gaue, promised, did sweare, desire, and importune, and assure you, mighte not procéede from a suspitious friende, either from a man of a double cōdition, but rather as from a father to a sonne,Perswasions of a perfect friend. from a brother to a brother, and from a friend to a friende. I would to God you did throughly know my hart, [Page 257] and the heart of Hernando of Aualos your vncle, then shoulde you sée most cleare, how it is I that do loue you, and he that doth deceyue you: I that giue you the hande, and he the man that offreth you deceyts: I that shew you the deapth, and he that sendes you to the bottome: I that set vp the marke, and he that takes away the white: I that lettes you bloud in the right vaine, and he that lameth your armes. Finally,An eloquence rarely vsed. I am he that would cure and open your impostume, and he is the man that giueth end to your lyfe, and burieth your renoume. If you had taken my counsell, I had placed you in my Chro­nicles amongest the glorious personages of Spayne, with the famous Viriato, the venturous Cid, the good Fernan Gonsalis, the Knight Tiran, and with the great Captaine, and other in­finite Knightes and Gentlemen woorthie of prayse, and no lesse to be followed. But since you woulde néeds imitate and credit Hernando of Aualos, and the other rebellious commo­ners, I shall be forced to place you in the Cathaologe of the famous tyrantes, that is to saye, with the Iustice Castromino, and Fernan Centeno, with captayn Sapico, the duchesse of Vil­lalua, the Marshal Peter Pardo, Alfonso Trusillo, Lope Carasco, Rebelles of Spayne. and Taymayo Isquirdo.

All these and many other with them, were tyrantes and rebelles in the dayes of king Iohn, and king Henry. And this is the difference betwixt you and them, that euery one of them dyd tyrannise but their owne countreyes, but you the whole countrey of Castile. I can not comprehend your intention, ei­ther can I conceyue what you may obtaine in folowing this enterprise, and to contend vpon so vniust a demaunde, since you knowe, and all we vnderstande, that if your enterprise shoulde happe to preuayle, there is none that woulde accepte, gratifie, or take it in good part: and if your purpose be made frustrate, there is a Kyng that will reuenge the iniurie, for the greatenesse and Maiestie of Castile knoweth not to en­dure disobedience to their kings, either suffer themselues to be commaunded by tyrantes.

When this yeare ye came to talke with me in Medina del [Page 258] campo, and I went with you to sée the bit maker, and Viloria, the skinner, Bobadilla the sheareman, Pennelas the carde ma­ker, Ontoria the lockier, Mender the bookebynder, and Lares the enseigne bearer, that were the heads and inuentours of the commoners of Valiodolid, Borgos, Leon, Zamora, Sala­manca Auila, and Medina: I assure you, I was dismayde and ashamed for that presently I did both sée and knowe that pas­sion was your guyde,Euill guydes not to be fol­lowed. and they conducted by opinion, & that you all, did flée reason: but for that I am in lyfe a sinner, in habite religious, in office a preacher, and in knowledge sim­ple, you haue not to make small accompt of my counsell: for as Plato sayd, we are not a little beholding vnto those that do aduise vs wherin wée erre, and doe directe vs in what wée ought to doe: for it is much better we amend by others cor­rection, than lose our selues by foolishe perseuerance. Beléeue me, and be out of doubt, Maister Iohn of Padilla, if you had spoken firste with me in Toledo, as you did after talke with me in Medina, you had neuer taken this enterprise in hande: for as the Emperour Traiane did vse to say, men that possesse noble heartes and blushing vysages, ought neuer to beginne that, whiche lyeth not in their handes to performe: for other­wyse, they shall leaue with great shame, that they beganne with great hope. Sir, you doe well knowe, that all those that you leade in your campe against the king, be théeues, mur­therers,An eloquent persuasion. blasphemers, and seditious Commoners: all whiche as they are a base people, and men of handicrafte, you haue to intreate them, but not to force them: suffer, but not to cha­stise: to pray, but not to commaunde: to flatter, but not to threaten: for they followe you not to remedie things amisse, but to rob the goods that others haue in possession. That daye that the king shall enter into Castile: that day that you shal lose any battell: and also that daye that you haue not to paye the men of warre, then shall you sée howe they will trudge from you, without takyng any leaue, and also make a se­crete sale of you.

Sir, haue compassion of your age so tender, and of youre [Page 259] bloud so vndefiled, of your parentage so honorable, of youre house so auncient, of your condition so good, of your abilitie so [...]ntier, and of your youth so euill imployed: all which things you haue vnfauourly infected, and also in a maner mortifyed. If you will beléeue me and giue credite vnto my wordes, in­commende your selfe vnto God, leaue this enterprise, turne vnto the king, goe vnto the Gouernours, and shake handes with these commoners. Forasmuche as the king is pitifull, and all men desire your remedie and welfare: hée woulde much more accept your comming to serue with the rest, than to haue raised this war against him. Let not the deuil deceiue you, either any vaine or fantasticall imagination hinder you to performe the same, neither to conceiue that they haue to charge you with vnstablenesse, in that you haue enterprised, either as a traitor for y^t you haue taken in hād: bicause in al y^e histories of this world they be acompted loyal that serue their king and such as rebell be called disloyall, & traitors. Also if a Gētleman be reproued for slouthfulnesse, he riseth more ear­ly, and vseth more diligence: if they call him babbler, he kée­peth silence: if they accuse him for a glutton, he vseth tempe­rance: if they charge him as an adulterer, he abstayneth: if they burden him to be furious, he suffereth: if they impute him to be ambicious, he abaseth: if they name him a sinner, he amendeth: but if they call him by the name of a traytor, there is no water that may wash or make it cleane: either any ex­cuse that may excuse it. Neyther is the King so muche offen­ded, or the kingdome so much altered, or affaires so aforehand, nor the Gouernours of so hard disposition, but that you maye be reduced and finde time very conuenient to serue the King.The wordes of a very frende. The which if you woulde performe, I promise you by y^e faith of a Christian, and do sweare vnto you by the lawe of an ho­nest man, that amending this wrong, my penne shall change his stile.

Montauan, maister of your house, and I haue communed in secrete things of greate importaunce, and since he did herein credit me, it shal not be amisse that you beleue him there, and [Page 260] if you will not, I washe my handes of all your faulte, and from hence forwarde doe take my leaue of your friendship. No more, but that with the faith and credit that I haue recei­ued your letter, with the verie same it may please you to re­ceyue this of myne.

From Medina del camop the eight day of Marche, in the yeare of our Lorde .1521.

Repugnancie in speeche, in respect of birth and ma­ners. MAgnificent and couetous Gēleman, the good Emperor Titus, that was son to Vaspasian, and brother to Domitian, was of himself so vertuous, & of al the Romane Empire so welbeloued, that at the tyme of his death they did en­graue these words vpō his sepulcher: Delitiae moriūtur generis humani, which is to say, To daye is dead in Rome y^t did reioyce all mankynd. Of this good Emperor Titus is read in Suetonius, y^t being at supper on a time with many Princes of y^e empire,A famous speache of an heathen prince & other Embassadors of diuers kingdoms, sodeinly gaue a great sigh, & sayd, Diem amisimus amici, as if he should say more cléere: Let not this day be accompted amongst the days of my lyfe, bicause this day I haue not performed any boun­tie, neither giuen any reward. Plutarke doth report of Alexan­der the great, that when many Philosophers had disputed in his presence wherein consisteth the good happe of this lyfe, hée made answere: Beléeue me friends, and be out of doubt, that in all this worlde there is not equall delighte or lyke pleasure, as to haue wherwith to be liberall, and not where­fore to chastise.A magnificēt answere of a pagan king. Also it is said of Theopontus the Thebane, who béeing a Captayne of men of warre, a souldioure craued of him some péece of money to buye breade, and hauing none to giue, pulled of his shoes, saying: If I had better, I would giue thée better, but in the meane while take these shoes of [Page 261] myne for that I haue no money:An exceeding humanitie of a generall to a poore souldior for it is more iust that I goe barefoot, than thou an hungred. Dionysius the tyrant entring vpon a certain day into his sonnes chamber, and séeing there many iewels of siluer and gold, sayde: Sonne, I did not giue these riches to the end thou shouldest kéepe them,An excellente counsell to make enimies tender, and to conserue frendes. but bicause thou shouldst giue and imparte them. For there is no man in this world of more power, than the giuing and liberall man: for with his giuing he conserueth his frends, and maketh tē ­der his enimies. I haue made this discourse to vtter a cer­taine thyng vnto you, which if you were in Castile, as you are in Andolozia, my penne should neuer haue written vnto you, but my toung should haue spoken it into your eare: for our as­sured friendes, notwithstanding wée haue licence to blame them, yet we may not vse our libertie to defame them. Some of Andolozia hath told me here, and some of your frendes haue written me from thence, that your delite excéedeth to farre in hoording vp of money, and no lesse enimie with the spendyng therof. Of which déede and disposition I am not a little grie­ued, & also muche ashamed, bicause honor & auarice be so con­trarie and in such contention and defiance, y^t they neuer dwell in one person, neither at any time had any affinitie. All vici­ous men in this life haue some tast in their vices, except it be the miserable and most vnfortunate couetous nigard, which is tormēted with that which others do possesse, & takes no tast in that whiche he hath. The painfull trauell of the couetous nigarde is, that always he walketh suspicious and in feare, that the raging flouds carrie awaye his Milles, that the hierd eate vp his meades, that hunters steale his game, and that théeues rob his treasure: but in fine, the miserable couetous man, from no man dothe so muche defend his goodes,The coue­tous man de­fendeth his goodes from himselfe. as from his own person. That wherin the couetous man takes most sauour, is to hutch vp double Ducates, to tell golde, to hyde money, to sel his wine deare, to hoord much wheat in garners his Eawes to haue good yeaning, not to raine in Aprill, and to haue much wheate in May. The highest glory of the coue­tous man is, to be gettyng, to be hoording, none to craue of [Page 262] him, and neuer to spende. And although in these fewe things he taketh some taste, with many other he passeth greate tor­ments, which is to vnderstande, if they aske an halfepenie for spice, a peny for candles, a dandiprat for an earthen pot, a farthing for oyle, two pens for salt, he riues the house with yelles, and giues vnto the diuell both wyfe and children, ex­claming that they are all bent to rob him. God endueth that [...] with singular grace to whom he giueth a shamfast coū ­ [...]unce, and an heart of noble disposition. For if the wret­ched nigard had once tasted how sweet a thing it is to giue: the things most necessarie to his propre vse, he should not be able to retaine. The noble mynded and liberall man giueth not so muche as they giue him: for in recompence of euery boun­tie, they giue themselues wholly at his libertie to bée com­maunded.

The liberall and noble minded, is Lorde of his neigh­bour.The liberall and noble minded man is Lorde of the people where he dwelleth, & of all men with whom he hath conuer­sation: for being assured that he wil gratify them, no mā hath the face to denye him any thing. The contrarie doth chaunce to the miserable nigarde and harde harted couetous man, vn­to whome no man will approche, no man will talke, no man will accompanie, no man giueth any thing, no man entreth his dores, neither any man will fetche fire at his house. Who will craue any thing of the couetous nigard? much lesse en­ter his house,The vile con­ditions of the couetous. séeing him weare his shoes torne, his hose rent, his cap thréede bare, his hat greasye, his shirt ragged, his dou­blet lose and vnpoynted, and he walking alone? Howe will he remedie the necessitie of a stranger, that will not mende the gutter of his house? Howe will hée giue any man an almes that trusseth himselfe with a points end? How wil he succour the vnknown, that killeth his own with hunger? How wil he giue wood to the hospitall, that warmes himselfe by the trash of strawe? To whome will he lend money that burieth his owne? Howe will he imparte and giue of his wheate, that hath hope in May to sel for double price? Who dare be a frend to the couetous and wretched nigard, being an enimye to him [Page 261] selfe? How many couetous men haue we séene and doe sée e­uery day, vnto whome God giueth force to get riches, wit to sustain them, a mind to defend them, a life to possesse them, & giueth them not licence to enioy them? but where they might be Lordes of other mens,Slaues to their owne goodes. we see them slaues to their owne proper goodes. Of how muche more excellencie is honest pro­pertie, than is cursed auarice, whiche is to be knowen moste cleare: bicause the poore man is contented with his little, and the rich man with his aboundance séemeth to be in necessitie? What greater disgrace, eyther greater mischance may hap­pen to the welthy couetous man, since for all things he séeth in others he sigheth, and all that he hathe in possession he lac­keth? The couetous man hath his eyes occupied in his vines he planteth, his hands in the money he receyueth,Wāting that which he pos­sesseth. his tong a­mongst his factors with whome he chideth, his feete in wan­dring to his heards and granges, hys time in wiles that hée frameth, his eares in accompts be receaueth, his body in bar­gaines he maketh, & his hart on the Ducates that with great watch he kéepeth: in such wise, that as he goeth wandring be­sides himself, so he obserueth no part to himselfe. That the couetous man hathe not the heart or courage to giue to hys friends or kindred, it is most true. Dare they bestow any cost vpon themselues? no surely: no truly: but holde it as euill im­ployed whatsoeuer they bestowe vppon themselues, as that which is stolne from them. To the couetous miserable nigard they raise a slander vpō him, in saying that he is rich: bicause, not he the riches, but y^e riches doth him hold & possesse: in such wise, that he passeth greate trauelles in gathering of them, danger in kéeping them, law in defending them, and tormēt in departing from them: for if shame did not let him, he would rather eate bread and onyons, than lay out one peney. The couetous man is not of so good disposition as is the dirtie Pot­ter, since the one profiteth himselfe by earthe, and the other dare not touch golde: and farther and besides this, the poore Potter getteth his liuing by selling of pottes, & the wretched couetous man loseth his honor by hoording of riches. The [Page 264] wretched niggard hauing his money neuer so muche buried, watched, and kept, yet from none doth he so much kéepe it, as from himselfe,Two kayes to his cofer, but two C. in his hart. bycause if hée haue two keyes vnto his coffer to make all safe, he hath two hundreth in his hart to saue thē from spending: men shamefaced and of noble mindes, haue greate cause to beware that they begin not to hourd or lay vp money: for if he once giue himselfe to hourd and hide money, be it neuer so little, be it no more but to gain one only groate, he shal euery day fall into a thousand euils, shames, and con­fusions. For any man to be reuenged of a couetous manne, he hathe not but to desire that he may liue long, for a muche worse life is obtayned by the wretched nigard with his aua­rice,The whole life of the nig­gard is spent in penance. than we would giue him with some great penance. I doe lie if I did not know (being warden of Areuallo) a great riche man, which did not eate of all his goodes, but the faine frute, the rotten grapes, the mustie Wheate, the sowre Wine, the Rateaten bread, the wemmy chéese, and the resty Bacon: in such wise that he would not enterprise or aduenture to eate, but that he could not sell. I confesse that sometimes I wente vnto his house, more to beholde than for any businesse, and saw his chambers full of Cobwebs, his doores vnhanged, the windowes cleft, the lockes decayed, the flowers vneuen and full of holes, the tiles vntiled, the chaires broken, the chim­neys falne downe: in suche wise, that it was rather an house to murmure at, than to dwell in. Although it be a shame to spell it, I wil not leaue to say that which the neighbours and his friends hath sayd vnto me: that if there hapned any kins­man or friend to visit him, he was driuen to séeke lodging at his neighbours, or to borow all that was necessary. Great (of a troth) is that couetise, and much infamous is that auarice, which is not repressed with the shame of this world, neyther cut off by the feare of death. The couetous wretched niggard, that he goeth seeking,The fruites of couetous­nesse. is carefulnesse for himselfe, enuie for his neighbours, spurres vnto his enemies, a pray for théeues, perill for his person, damnation for his soule, malediction for his heires, and law for his children. All these thinges Sir I [Page 265] thought good to write, thereby to giue you to vnderstande the grosse office you haue taken in hande, and the euill opinion they do couceyue of you (the which to vs your friends is great shame, and to you a most great infamie.) Sir amende youre fault, and take some other order in your life, for in the house of any honest manne, any lacke of goodes is tollerable, but no want in honour. If you shall alwayes continue to be a miser, a niggard, and shall giue your selfe to kéepe and hoord money, from henceforward I take my leaue of your friendship, and also to call you my acquainted: For I neuer delighted to hold acquaintance with the man that woulde presume to lie, and giue himselfe to kéepe. This letter I send you without head or foote, which is to wit, without date or firme, for going with such choler and so vnsauorie, it is not reason he shoulde bée knowen that did write it, neither to whome it was written. No more.

MAgnificent and vnaduised Lady, in the dayes that the good Emperour Iustinian did raigne in the East, a certaine Captaine of his dyd gouerne the kingdomes in the West y^t was named Narsetes, a man of greate capacitie to gouerne, and of great valiantnes in fighting and giuing battell: of this Narsetes the Romanes did saye, that in him only was the force of Hercules, the boldnesse of Hector, Notable con­ditions of the captain Nar­setes. the noblenesse of Alexander, the wisdome of Pirrhus, the vali­antnesse of Antheus, and the fortune of Scipio. After that thys glorious captain had ouercome and slaine Atholia King of the Gothes, Vncelino king of the French men, Sindual king of the Brittons: and also pacified and triumphed ouer all the king­domes of the West, the Romanes sought meanes to disgrace [Page 268] him with his Lorde and maister Iustinian, saying and giuing him to vnderstand, that he sought meanes to obtaine the Em­pire: wherefore Narsetes was constrayned to departe from Rome and to passe into Asia to appeare before the Emperour Iustinian, and the Empresse Sophia his wife, to declare his in­nocencie, and to make proofe that enuie had raised that sclaun­der: certaine dayes were then past that the Empresse Sophia had conceyued disdaine against Narsetes, some say it was for his great wealth, others for that he commaunded in the Em­pire with too much authoritie, and others bycause he was a gelded man: and when she sawe time to vtter hir hatred, she said vnto him in Court on a certaine day: since thou Narsetes art lesse than a man, and halfe a woman (being an Eunuche) I commaunde thée to leaue the gouernment of the Empire,I cruell com­mandement. and that thou get thée vp to weaue where my maydes doe weaue and knit caules, and that there thou help them what they commaund thée. Although Narsetes were a man of great authoritie and of no lesse grauitie, these words did so deepely pearce him to the quicke, that he chaunged countenance, the teares brake from his eyes, and so chafed, with teares he said: Serene Princes, I woulde right gladly that you shoulde cha­stise me as a Lady, but not to defame me like a woman: it gréeueth me not so much of that you haue said, as the occasion which you giue me, how to make you answer: and said more, I presently depart vnto Italy to weaue, knit, and frame such a toyle,A sharpe an­swere. that neyther thou maist comprehend, nor yet thy hus­band able to vnweaue. Comming now to the purpose, my Lord Abbot of Compludo gaue me here in Medina a letter frō your Ladiship, which contained such ouerthwarts, such want of measure, and so greate rashnesse, that he was ashamed too haue deliuered it, and I astonied to sée the contents thereof. And as the good Narsetes aunswered the Empresse Sophia, it gréeueth me not of that you haue saide, but of that whiche I must answer,His penne is constrained to make combat for of necessitie my penne must stand foorthe to make combat with your tong. Your Ladiship doth say in your letter, that you haue séene the letter that I sent vnto youre [Page 267] husband Iohn of Padilia, and that it dothe well appeare in the same, that it came from a frier, irreguler, foule spoken, ouer­thwart, absolute and dissolute: and that if I were one of the world, not only I would not dare to wright such things, ney­ther yet so much as in corners to speake them. Also you do ex­tréemely charge me that I haue suborned Sir Peter Lasso, disswaded sir Peter Giron, contended with the Bishop of Za­mora, resorted to Villa Braxima for the Gouernours, that I preache publikely againste the commoners, and that in my mouth there is no truth, nor in my déedes any fidelitie. Also you blame me, charge, condempne, and threaten me for the letter I did write vnto your husbande, and for the counselles and aduertisementes I gaue him: affirming and swearing, that since he had conference with me, he hathe alwayes bene sorowfull, penūue, melancholicke, and also vnfortunate.

Also you note, blame, and charge me, that I neuer cease too lye vnto the gouernours, deceyue the commoners, discou­rage his men of warre, preach against the commonaltie, pro­mise that which the King commaundeth not, goe and come to Villa Braxima, and to leade all Castile in suspence. These and such other things are contayned within youre letter vnwor­thy the writing, and scandalous to recount. But since youre Ladiship hath first laide hand vpon the sword, complaine not if I happen to giue you some wound on the head. To that which your Ladiship sayth (if I were of the world as I am of religion,) I durst not wright suche a letter vnto youre hus­band, your Ladiship speaketh greate troth: for I being the son of Sir Beltram of Gueuara, and cousin to Sir Ladron of Gue­uara, and to be there in the worlde, I shoulde not write vnto him but fighte with him: not make pennes, but sharpen the launce: not gyue counsell or perswade your husbande, but de­fye him: bycause the contention betwixt loyaltie and treason,Loyaltie and treason fight not with wor­des, but with swordes. ought not to be tried with wordes, but with swords. I am in profession a Christian, in habite religious, in doctrine a di­uine, in linage of Gueuara, in office a preacher, and in opiniō a gentleman and no commoner: for which cause I presume to [Page 268] preach the troth, and to impugne the communaltie. I holde for sure, that those whiche defende the troth, be the most noblest knights and gentlemen in your Camp: for they rob not vpon high wayes, neyther steale out of Churches, destroy no corne, burne no houses, spoyle no people, neither do consent to men of vile conditions: for they obserue the law, and obey the king. I hold these for rebelles amongst the commoners, Hernando of Aualos that did inuent it, your Ladiship that doth sustayne it, your husbande that dothe defende it, the Bishop of Zamora that doth prosecute it, Sir Peter Giron that doth aucthorize it, Sir Peter Lasso that doth publish it, Sarabia that doth cōmende it, Quintanilla that doth accompany it, Sir Charles of Aurella­no that doth honor it, and Sir Peter Pimentel that commands it: all whiche know not what they followe, muche lesse what they demaund.

I do well vnderstand that Hernando of Aualos was y^e first that inuented the state of all things in common, and I know that in your house was commaunded and ordeyned, to make conuocation in Auila, and the order to raise all Castile, in such manner, that he made the fier, and your Ladiship did blewe it. A blacke correction was that of Giberaltar, whiche was ta­ken from Hernando of Aualos. Since it was the cause that hée deceyued you, and you Iohn of Padilla, and Iohn of Padilla Sir Peter Giron, and sir Peter Giron sir Peter Lasso, and Sir Peter Lasso the Abbot of Compludo, and the Abbot of Compludo the Bishop of Zamora, the Bishop of Zamora the Licenciat Barnar­dine, the Licenciat Barnardine Sarabia, and Sarabia all the rest of the Letany. I haue many times thought, deuised and also enquired, what motion might moue your Ladiship to vowe the alteration of this kingdome: and all youre friendes and kinsfolke do answer, that you haue diuined or else dreamed, to sée your husband master of Saint Iames, which if it be so, is a most certaine great lightnesse, and no smal vanitie: for it may come to passe, that in the place to gyue hym the crosse, they may put him vpon the crosse. If you woulde make your hus­band Master of Saint Iames, you must take some other order, [Page 269] and giue him some other coūsel: for so gret a dignitie in times past was not obtayned to the masters thereof by rebellion, (as you that haue raised all Castile) but by fighting valiantly with the Moores in the viage of Granado. In all the common welthes of this world there be friends and enemies, conten­ted and discontented, prosperous and vnfortunate, and also loyalties and treasons, wherein the one or the other is kno­wen: the loyall in that they giue themselues to serue, and the traytors to spoyle and rob. Your Ladiship hath to remember that king Iohn is dead, and king Henry gone, they haue cut the throte of the Marshall Peter Pardo, and they haue banished the Iustice Castromino, the Captaine Sapico was drowned in a well; and Fernan Centeno was hanged: in whose miserable times, who could do most had most, but now praise be to God, he that will haue any thing, must not only craue but deserue. If stories doe not deceiue vs, Mamea was proud, Medea was cruell, Martia was enuious, Popilia was vnchast, Mirtha was malicious, and Domitia was rashe: but I haue read of none that hathe bin disloyall and a traytresse, but youre Ladiship that hath denied the fidelitie that you owe, and the bloud from whence you are discended. Your Ladiship descending from a parentage so honorable, of bloud so auncient, of father so vali­ant, and of linage so noble: I know not what sinnes you haue committed (that it shoulde be your chaunce) to match with a husband of so small discretion, and he to obtaine a wife of so great wisdome. Women naturally were wont to be pitifull, but your Ladiship is cruell, they were wont to be milde, but you are fierce, they were wont to be pacient, but you are qua­relling, and also they were wont to be cowardes, but you are ouer hardie: in suche wise that to the Duchesse of Vilalua, succéeded the Lady Mary of Padilla. Assiria complayneth of their scandall Semiramis, Damascus for Mithridates, Famouse women. Armenia for Pincia, Grecia for Helena, Germany for Vxodonia, Rome for Agripina, Spaine for Hecuba, and now Castile complayneth not that they are raysed for you, but that you haue raised them. To quiet this Citie of Toledo where you are resident, neither [Page 270] the commaundementes of the King is sufficiente, neyther the promises of the Gouernours, neither the siege of the Prior Iohn, neyther the threatnings of Sir Iohn de Ribora, neyther the intreatance of the Archbishop of Varry, neither perswasi­ons of your brothers, neither yet prayers of the monasteries, but that euery day more and more you are fleshed in warre, & lesse friend to peace. Also they report that you haue a sorceresse or rather a foole to your slaue, which is a great witch: and (they say) that she doth affirme and make you beléeue, that ere it be long, you shall be magnified with the title of Grace, and your husband with the title highnesse, in such wise that you stand [...] in great hope to succéede the Quéenes Maiestie, and your hus­band no lesse to succéede the Kings highnesse: which I cannot beléeue, nor lightly will beléeue. But if by chance there be a­ny thing, beware of the Diuell, and haue no confidence in spirits: for Ioseph did dreame that he shuld be Lord of his bre­thren, but he dreamed not that they should sell him into Egypt for a slaue. But it may be (considering the Deuill is so skilful and very subtill) he hathe prognosticated vnto you the same that now you hold, the authoritie that your husband now pos­sesseth, how the king should be absent, and Castile rise and bée in rebellion: but on the other side, he hath hidden frō you how the communaltie shal be defaced, and how your selues shal be cast away. Zorastes that was inuentor of that art of magike, Democritus the Philosopher, Arthenius Captain of the bands, Pompeius Consul of the Romanes, Iulia the daughter of Iulius, and others infinite with them, gaue themselues to speake with Diuels, and to beléeue much in dreames: which (as they beléeued) if they were aliue, would recount vnto vs the great deceypts the Diuell vsed with them here on earthe, and the great torments that they giue them there in hell. I did neuer sée,Vngodly sciences. neyther euer did read mā or womā to beléeue in dreames, vse witchcrafts, deale with Nigromancers, marke or studie in Augurise, practise with Enchantors, & incommende them­selues to Magisians, that were not holden for light witted, and for euill Christians, for the Diuell with no man holdeth [Page 271] so straight friendship, to the end to aduise him, but to deceyue him. Also they make report of your Ladiship here, that you entred the vestorie or treasure house of Toledo, to fetche the plate that was there, not to the ende to renew it, but to pay your men of warre. The maner that you vsed in fetching the same hath not séemed here a little gracious, which is, that you entred kneeling, holding vp your hands, couered with blacke,A religiu [...] theft. striking your brest, wéeping and sobbing, with two burning torches before you: Oh fortunat theft, oh glorious pillage, oh happie plate, since thou hast deserued to be stolne with so gret deuotion from that holy Churche. Men, when they steale doe feare, and wéepe when they be hanged: the contrary is found in your Ladiship, since you wéepe when you steale, I thinke you will laugh at execution. The Romanes to send a certaine present vnto the God Apollo in Delphos, all the Ladies and women of Rome gaue their collers from their neckes, theyr rings from their fingers, their bracelets from their armes, and also their eare rings from their eares: bycause they helde them better imployed to be giuen to their temples, than to weare them to their owne vses. Madame, God graunt that you be now a better Christian, than you would haue then bin a Romane: since you haue presumed to take the plate from the Church of Toledo, with an euil will would giue your gold to the temple of Apollo. To take from souldiours to giue to the Churche, it passeth: but to take from the Churche to gyue vnto Souldiers, is a thing very slaunderous and intollerable: in such wise as it was great sacriledge to take it from whēce it was taken, and no lesse horrible to giue it where it was gy­uen. Humbly I beséech your Ladiship to cut off these euilles, leaue that people, open those gates, retire your husband, qui­et your owne hart, giue witchcraft to the Deuil, and haue pi­tie on Toledo: for if otherwise the affayres go on, as they haue begonne, we shall not want wherefore to bewayle, and you shall haue to paye.

From Medina del rio secco, the sixtenth of Ianuary .2522.

MAgnificent and extreme Gentlemen, I doe inuoke and call to witnesse the God that made me, and I do sweare by this holy tem­ple that in all things that here I intende to speake,An eloquent perswasion. my intent is not to defame any man, and lesse to deceyue: bicause the religious ha­bit wherewith I am clad, and the noble bloud from whence I descend, giue no place that I should be of malicious entrailes, either double in words. Some of those that are here present do very well know my condicion and my conuersation: and also you doe knowe the libertie I vse to take in speaking franckly, and my bold plainnesse in preaching, and in the vse of lying very cold, and in reprehending absolute. Yesterday which was New yeres day, I preached vnto the gouernours, and to all the mightie and noble men of the kingdome that was there with them. And for that I did sharply say what was to be cut off, and in the kingdome to be amended: to day they haue commaunded me to come hither with this letter of credite and of safe conduit, to the ende I shoulde say vnto you wherein you erre, as I saide vnto them wherein they fayled. Also gentlemen I bring with me a large instruction firmed by the Cardinall, the Admirall, and the Constable, in whiche is contayned what worde the King doth sende you, and what they on his behalfe do offer: bycause his writing being séene, and my tale heard, from hencefoorth eyther cruell warre shal be determined, or a generall and godly peace concluded. In sixtéene dayes I haue come hither to conferre with you seuen times: and bycause the gouernours will not any more com­maund me to come hither, neyther in these affaires farther to trauell, it is necessary that this day we determine, and as friends or enemies to declare our selues: for otherwise being [Page 273] as you are so neare togither, of necessitie you must strike bat­tell. I my Masters wil say what I thinke, and also wil speake what is commaunded me, to the ende, that the one and the o­ther being heard, you may vnderstand what you haue to aun­swere, and determine what you haue to doe. But first I haue to complaine of your captaine Lares which tooke me, and mis­vsed me both in word and deede, he knowing very well that a mediator passing from Campe to Camp, in all places is accu­stomed to go safe. There is no reason that Lares should carrye me taken as a thiefe, and vse me with rudenes as a traytor, for I come in the Kings name, and at the commaundement of the gouernours, to bring peace and to auoyde warre, and be­sides this, if I were one of the world, he would hold him selfe right happie to be one of my seruants: but leauing this apart, I will recite vnto you what I haue passed, and the hainous mischaunces whereat I haue ben present. Since y^e king hath bene absent, and y^e cōmonaltie raysed, (you may credit me in all that I shall say vnto you, which I haue not deuined either dreamed, but with my eyes haue séen it) you wel know of this your cōmotion the beginner was Harnando of Aualos, the cap­taine sir Peter Ciron, the generall Iohn of Padilla, the counseller the licenciat Barnardine, the accessary the Doctor Sūiga, The auhors of Rebellion. the en­seigne bearer Peter of Mercado, the chaplain the Abbot of Cō ­pludo, and the Metropolitan my Lord bishop of Zamora. I was present in Segouia at the first rising that was in this king­dome, when vpon the .xxiij. of May on a wednesday after Easter, they pulled out of the Churche of S. Mighell the Ius­tice Tordisillas, & caried him to the gallowes, where they han­ged him betwixt two hogges, as Iesus Christ was betwixt two théeues.

I was present also in Auila, when all the procurers of the assembly were ioyned together in y^e vestry of the great Church and there did al sweare to prosecute and die for the seruice of y^e cōmonaltie, (except Antony Ponce & I that would not sweare:) whereupon commmaundement was giuen to pul downe his house, and that I shoulde departe from Auila. Also I was [Page 274] present in Medina del campo the .xxij. of the moneth of August, on a tewsday in the morning, when Antony of Fons seca came vpon them in the breake of the day with .viij C. launces, and for that they denyed him the kings artillery, he burnt the towne and the monastery of S. Francis. Hard shiftes. Also I was present there when the Shereman Bobadilla did rise, and others with him, and threw out at the towne hall window, the Iustice Nieto, and slewe Telles the Bookebinder, and forthwith toke the house, placed porters, and entituled him selfe with grace and highnes, as though he had ben presently Lorde of Medina, or that the King of Castile had ben dead. I was present when Valiodolid firste rebelled in burning Medina, and al in armour went the whole night pulling down howses, hauing for their Captaine Vera y^e bit maker. Also I was in Valiodolid whē the Cardinall fledde away by the bridge, the President put him­selfe into Saint Benets, the Licenciat Vergas skaped out at a window, the Licenciat Sapata we brought forth in Friers ha­bite vnto Sigales, and the Doctor Gueuara my brother was sent in the name of the Counsell vnto Flaunders: all the other lords of the royall Counsel I did not sée them when they were taken, but I sawe them afterwards prisoners, and nowe I sée them fled, that they neyther dare assemble, or execute iu­stice. This other day I sawe in Soria where they hanged a Procurer of the citie, béeing poore, sicke, and olde, not bycause he had cōmitted any euill, but for that some did wish him e­uill. To report vnto you how they haue throwen the Consta­ble out of Burgos, the Marques of Auia frō Tordisillas, y^e Earle and Countesse of Duneas, and the knights and gentlemen frō Salamanca, and Sir Iames of Mendoza from Palentia, and how in place of these gentlemen they haue taken for their leaders and captaines,An vntoward change. bit makers, sheremē, skinners & lockmakers, is no smal shame to recount, and infamy to heare. The hurts, murders, robberies, and scandals, that is nowe committed within this realme, I dare say, that of this so great fault wée al are in fault, bycause our God is so right a iudge, that hée would not permit that all should be chastised, if all were not [Page 275] offenders. The affairs of this miserable kingdome is come to such a state, y^e through the same there is no way sure, no tēple priuiledged, none that tilleth the fielde, none bringeth vitailes, none y^e executeth iustice, none safe in their houses:A miserable state. yet all con­fesse a king, and appeale to the king, but the disgrace is, that none doth obserue the law, & none doth obey the King: beleue me, if your people did acknowledge the King, and obserue the law, neyther would they robbe the kingdome, or disobey the King: but for that they haue no feare of the sword, nor doubt of the gallowes, they do what they lust, and not what they ought. I knowe not how you can say, that you wil refourme the kingdome since you obey not the King, you consent to no gouernours, you admit no royall counsell, you suffer no Chan­celour, you haue no Iudges nor Iustices, no giuing of sentence in matters of lawe, neyther any euill chastised: in such wise, that your iudgemēt to haue no iustice in the kingedome,A wrong de­uise to main­taine a com­mon wealth. is to refourme iustice. I can not cōprehende how you wil reforme this kingdome, since by your consent there is no subiect that shall acknowledge a preacher, neither any Nunne that keepes hir cloyster, no Frier that remayneth in his monaste­ry, neyther womā that obeyeth hir husband, nor vassall that obserueth loyalty, neyther any man that dealeth iustly: in so much that vnder the colour of liberty, euery man liueth at his owne wil. I know not how you will reforme the common welth, since those of your campe do force women, rauish may­dens, burne villages, spoyle houses: steale whole slockes, cut downe woods, and rob churches, in such wise, that if they leaue any euill vndone, it is not bycause they dare not, but for that they can not. I can not conceiue how you will reforme the common welth, since by your occasion Toledo is risen, Se­gouia altered, Medina burned, Halaheios besieged, Burgos forti­fied, Valiodolid immutined, Salamanca stragled, Soria disobedi­ent, and also Valentia an Apostata. I can not perceiue how you will reforme the common welth, since Naiarza is rebel­led against the Duke, Dueas against the Earle, Tordisillas a­gainst the Marques, Chincon against his Lorde, since Auila, Leon, Toro, Zamora, and Salamanca, doe neither more or [Page 276] lesse than the assembly doth commaund. So may my life pro­sper as I like of your demaund: which is to weete, y^t the King be not absent out of this Realme, that he maintaine all men in iustice, that he suffer no money to be transported out of the Realme, that he giue his rewardes and offices vnto the na­tural subiectes of Spaine, that they deuise not any new tributs: and aboue all, that the Offices be not solde, but gyuen to men of most vertue.

These and such other like things you haue licence to craue, and only the King hath authoritie to graunt: but to demaund of princes with the lance, that which they haue to prouide by Iustice, is not the part of good vassalles, but of disloyall ser­uants, wée well vnderstand that many people of this lande doe complaine of the newe gouernement of Flemmings, and to speake the truth, that fault was not all theirs, but in their small experience, and our much enuie. Further, aduertising that the straungers were not more to bée blamed than our owne countrie men, they knew not the state of things, either what offices to craue, neither how they would be solde, but that they were aduised and also instructed in the skill thereof by the men of our owne nation, in such wise, that if in them there did abound desire of gain, in vs there did excéed the vice of cruell malice. Although Maister Xebes and the rest haue cō ­mitted some fault, I know not that our Spaine hath done any offence,Mischiefe for a medicine. that you should in the same and against the same rayse any warre. The medicine that you haue inuented for the remedie of this mischiefe, is not to purge but to kill. But since you will néedes make war, let vs examine here against whom is this war? not against the king, bycause his tender youth dothe excuse him: not against the Counsell, for they appeare not: not against Xebes, for hée is in Flaunders, not against the Gouernors whiche haue but nowe entred their offices: not against the Gentlemen, who haue not offended: neither yet against tyrantes, for the Kingdome was in peace: than is this war againe your own countrie, and against our own (lamentable) common wealth. The wante of prouidence [Page 277] in the king, neither the auarice of Xebes is sufficient cause that we should sée that whiche wée doe sée, the people to ryse against people, fathers against the sonnes, the vncles against their cousins, friends against friends, neighbors against ney­bours, and brothers against brothers: but that our sinne hath so deserued to be chastised, and yours hath merited that you shuld be our scourge. Speaking more particular, you are not able to excuse your faulte, for beginning as you did the assem­blie of Auila, from which counsell all this warre hath had his féeding, and of a trouth presently I did diuine and also prea­che that is to witte, y^t neuer was Monipody of any kingdome, whereof did not arise some notable scandall. The kingdom is nowe altered, the kyng is disobeyed, the people are nowe ri­sen, the hurt is alreadie begon, the fire is alreadye in flame, and the common wealth goeth sinking to the bottom. But in the ende, if it like you, a good end may be made, from whence may procéede all the remedie, for that we haue firmely to be­léeue, that God will rather heare the hearts that praye for peace, than the fifes and drums that proclaime warre. If it may lyke you to forget some part of your anger, and the go­uernours to lose some part of their right, I hold it all for fini­shed. And to speake you the trouth, in popular and ciuil war­res, men do rather fight for the opinion they haue takē, than for the reason that they hold. My iudgement should be in this case, that you should ioyne with the Gouernours to talke and conferre for the gréeues and things amisse, and to vnderstād for the remedie therof: for by this meanes you should growe to more ripenesse for the things you haue to demaund, and in our king and maister more facilitie in that whiche he shoulde graunt. If it may please you to leaue your armour, and giue faith vnto my words, I sweare by the faith of a Christian, & by this letter of credence y^t I bring with me, do promise you that you shall be pardoned of the king, and well intreated of his gouernors: that you shal neuer for this déed be chastized, neither yet in wordes be blamed or defamed. And bicause it shall not séeme that your zeale hath bin in vaine, and that the [Page 278] Gouernours doth not desire the common wealth, I will here shew vnto you, what they wil do for the kingdome, and what kindnesse on his Maiesties behalfe they will bestowe vppon you, which is as followeth.

First, they promise you, that at any time whē the kings Ma­iestie shall be absent from this kingdome, he shall place a Ca­stilian to gouerne Castile: Large offers. bicause the authoritie & greatnes of Spaine endureth not the gouernment of straungers. Also they promise you, that all the dignities, holdings, and offices of the kingdome and Court, shall be giuen to Spaniards, and not to straungers: notwithstāding there be many noble personages that haue well deserued and in whome they were well em­ployed. Also they promise you that the royall rents of the people shall be rated at an indifferent rente, in such wise, that the Cities may haue reasonable gayne, and no greate losse to the king. Also they promise you that if in the regall counsell shal be found any examiner, or any other officer, (although it be the president) vnwise or vnapt for gouernement, and not learned to giue sentence, or not honest of lyfe, that his maie­stie shall absolue him of his office: notwithstanding they may be affectionate to some, and also offended like other men. Al­so they promise that from hencefoorth his Maiestie shall com­maund his Iustices of Court and Chauncery, that they shall not vse their commaundements so absolute, neyther their chastisements so rigorous: notwithstanding that sometimes they be in some things fierce, bycause they may be more fea­red and also more esteemed. Also they promyse, that from henceforth his Maiestie shall commaunde to reforme his house, and also remoue the excessiue charges thereof: consi­dering that disordinate expences bryng forth newe tributes. Also they promise you, that for any neede the Kings Maiestie may haue, hée shall not carry, neither yet commaund to be ca­ried any money out of this kingdome to bée transported into Flaunders, Almayne, or Italy: considering that incontinent, trafficke decayeth in kingdomes where money wanteth. Al­so they promise that his Maiestie shall not permitte from [Page 279] henceforth, Biscay Iron, Alum of Murcia, Vitailes of Andolo­zia, nor Sackes of Burgos, to be laden in straunge botoms, but in shippes of Biscay and Galizia, to the ende that straungers shall not robbe, and our Countrey men to gayne whereby to eate. Also they promise that his Maiestie shall not permit to be gyuen from henceforth, fortresse, Castell, bridge, gate, or towne, but vnto Gentlemen plaine and curteous, and not vn­to Gentlemen or Knights of power, which in reuolting times may rise with the same: considering that in the ancient times none might haue Artilery or Fortresse, but the King in Ca­stile. Also they do promise you, that from henceforth his Ma­iestie shall not permitte licences to cary corne into Portingall, neyther from Mancha to Valentia: consideryng that many tymes to haue licence to transport thither, is here amongst ourselues cause of greate dearth. Also with all breuitie his Maiestie wil commaund the contentions and matters in law to be examined and considered, that haue bene continued be­twixt Toledo, and the Earle of Velalcassar, and Segonia, and sir Fernando Chichon, and of Iaen with the towne of Martos, and Valiodolid with Simancas, and that of sir Peter Giron with the Duke of Medina: considring that those in possession do delay, and the dispossessed complaine. Also they promise, that the King will commaund to reforme the excesses, giue lawe for banquets, reforme Monasteries, visit Chanceries, repayre sorts, and fortifie all the frontiers: considering that in all these things there is necessitie of reformation and also of cor­rection. If you my Masters bée suche as you publishe your selfe throughout Castile, whiche is to witte: that you bée the redéemers of the Common wealth, and the restorers of the libertie of Castile: behold here wée offer you the redem­ption, and also the resurrection thereof, bycause so many and so good thinges as these are, neyther did you remember to demaunde, eyther woulde presume to craue: nowe is the houre come wherein of necessitie it muste bée mani­fested, whither you speake and meane one thing. For if yée desire the generall wealth now is it offred you, and if you [Page 280] pretend your particuler interest, it may not be graunted you: for speaking the troth it is not iust, but most vniust, that with the sweate of the poore common wealth you shoulde séeke to amend the state of your owne houses. But let it be for cōclu­sion since we be here in the Churche of the towne of Braxima, of my part I do humbly beséeche you vppon my knées, and in the behalfe of the gouernours I doe request you,Pithyly per­swaded. and on the Kings name I commaund you to leaue your armour, to dis­camp your camp, and to vnfortifie Tordisillas: if not, I iustifie this offer for the gouernours, that all the euils, mischieues, and slaughters that hereafter shall happen in this kingdome be vpon the charge of your soules, and not vpon the burden of their conscience.

As I knéeled downe at the speaking of these last wordes, forthwith came vnto me Alonso of Quintanilla and Sarabia, bare headed and with great courtesie, did help me to rise and forced me to sitte downe. During the time I didde speake all that is aforesaid, it was a thing to looke vpon, and worthy con­sideration: how some of them did behold me, some did stampe, some did eye me, and also some did mocke me: but I neuer the more did leaue to note, either stay to speake. After I had fini­shed my Oration, they all with one voice said and desired the Bishop of Zamora to speake his iudgemente, and that after­wards they would all sée what were conuenient to be done. Forthwith the Bishop toke me by the hand & in the name of thē all, he said vnto me: Father frier Antony of Gueuara, thou hast spoken sufficiently, and also for the authoritie of thy ha­bite as a man ouer rash, but for that thou art a yong man and of small experience, neither knowest thou what thou spea­kest, eyther vnderstandest thou what thou demaundest, ey­ther wast thou made a Frier being a boy, or else thou art an­grie, or knowest little of this worlde, or thou wantest iudge­ment: since thou presumest to speak, & such things wouldest make vs beleue: but thou father (being stayd within thy mo­nasterie) knowest not of tirānies whiche they execute in the kingdom, & that which the knights & noble mē hath tirānised [Page 281] of the reall patrimonie, for whiche cause,A sharp re­prehension. thy entent shall be receyued, although thy wordes not beléeued. I haue heard say, that thou arte rashe in thy spéeche, and sharpe in repre­hending, and ioyntly therewith I did beléeue (since the Go­uernours had thée in their cōpany) that thou hadst a good zele and no want of iudgemente, but since they suffer they foolishe­nesse, it is not much that we endure thy wordes. God hathe bin thy good Lord that none of the captains of the warre hath bin present, for according to thy disordred talke whiche thou hast vsed, they woulde firste haue taken away thy life before thou mightst haue finished thy tale, & then it might be in oure hands to be sory, but not to remedie.A friendly aduise. When some other daye thou shalt talk in the presence of so great authoritie & grauitie as these are which be present, thou oughtest to be in that thou shalt say very moderat, & in y^e maner of thy spéech very much measured, bycause thy spéeche hath bin rather to scandalize than to mitigate vs, for that thou pretendest to condemne vs and discharge the gouernours: and since we be but Captai­nes to execute and not iudges to determine: it is conuenient that thou giuest vs by writing firmed with thy hande al that thou hast sayd, and promised on the Kings behalfe: that wée maye sende it to the Gentlemen of the holie assemblie, and there they shall sée what they haue to commaunde vs, and to answere to thy ambassage: presently they sente a post to Tor­disillas, (for there was the assemblie) with the credence that I brought, and with the talke I had vsed, whiche gaue for an­swere, that so colde a message, and suche disordred talk deser­ueth no other answere but to be wel reprehended, & also gre­uously punished. Presently they commaunded me to departe from the towne of Braxima without any letter, neyther any worde that I should say to the gouernors: except this Bishop y^t said vnto me, Father Gueuara fare you wel, & beware you come not againe, for if you do, you shal returne no more: and say vnto your gouernours, that if they haue authoritie from the king to promise much, their cōmission extendeth to per­forme very little. This done and said, I returned to Medina [Page 282] del rio Secco euill vsed, and worse answered, and from thence after I had spoken & the Bishop aunswered me, warres was determined, and peace neuer more spoken of. It was no small griefe vnto Sir Peter Giron and Sir Peter Lasso of the foule wordes they vsed with me, and of the euill aunswere their fe­lowship gaue me, for surely they would right gladly haue ben reduced to the Kings seruice, and that peace should haue bene established. Sir Peter Giron met me vpon the way when I retorned, and there conferred vpon such and so delicate things, whereof did rise that he retired from the Campe to Villalpan­dos, and that the gouernours should marche vnto Tordisillas, & so it was brought to passe. By that iourney the Queene was deliuered, and they of the assembly taken.

RIght reuerent Doctor & Caesars Phi­sicion, I haue receyued your letter, and the receipt that came therein: & whether I did speake or not speake vnto the President in your case, you may vnderstand by the dispatch ther­of, & by the report of your seruant: in suche wise, that you haue performed with me like a Phisicion, and I with you like a friend. And whether you or I haue done best, it is to wit, you in curing of me, or I in dispatching of you, let good mē sée & iudge, since I remaine with my gowte, & you haue obtay­ned good deliuerance. Sir I commaunded those hearbes to be sought, & the rootes to be gathered: and according to the tune of your billet, I haue gathered, stampt & dranke them, and God giue your soule better health, than they did profite mee any thing for my goute, for they did inflame my liuer, & too much coole my stomacke. I wil confesse vnto you that as in this my disease you did not onely erre, but also you did hurt me: euery [Page 283] time, that with the cold my stomacke beginneth to belke,Cruell pray­ers. pre­sently I say, a shame beshine Doctor Melgar, since my disease was not aboue the girdle, but from the thigh downewards, I did not craue that you should purge the humors, but deliuer me from payne, I know not why you should chastise my sto­macke, my foote making the offence? I cōmoned with Doctor Sotto here in Toledo, as cōcerning a Sciatica I had in my thigh, & he cōmanded to be giuē vnto me two Cautories with an bote instrument behind the eares, & the profite I gathered thereof was, he gaue all the Court occasion to laugh, and mine eares to endure great paine. And in Alcala I cōmoned with Doctor Cartagema, and he did ordayne me a certaine receit wherein was contained the gal of an Ox, the ordure of a Rat, the bran of Otes, the leaues of nettles, the buddes of Roses, and Scor­pions fried, to make a plaister to be layd vnto my thigh: The profite and greate ease I gathered thereof was, it kepte mée from sléepe thrée nights, and I payde to the Apoticary that made it ten grotes: but from henceforth I renounce the coun­selles of suche counsellers, the Aphorismos of Ipochras, The authors of Phisicke. the fines or conclusions of Auicene, the cases of Ficino, the compo­sitions of Rasis, and also the Canons of Erophilo, if in their writings that wretched and cursed playster be to bée found, which as it did not suffer me to sléepe, much lesse to take any rest, I did not only take it away but also buried it, for that it did not onely stincke most filthily, but burned mée most grie­uously. I remember that in Borgos Anno 21. Doctor Sotto cu­red me of a certaine wandring feuer, made me eate so muche Apium, take so much Barley water, and drinke so much stild Endiue, that I fel into such a thirst, that only I could not eat, neither so much as to abide y^t fauor of meat. Not many yéeres after I wēt to visit the same Doctor Sotto being sicke in Tor­disillas, and saw him eat an Orange, & drinke a cup of fragrant white wine after the cold had left him, and the heat began to come vpon him. Wherfore I did not a little maruel, and half offended I sayde vnto him laughing: tell mée Master Doctor in what lawe is it contayned, or what Iustice doth suffer it, [Page 284] that you cure your selfe of your Ague with wyne of S. Martin, and on the other side you cure my Sciatica with dung of oxen? Whervnto graciously he made me answere, your Lordship (Master Gueuara) hath to vnderstand, that our maister Ipo­chras hath giuen commaundement to all Physitions his suc­cessors, that vpon paine of his malediction we shoulde cure our selues with wine, and our pacientes with stilled water. Although Doctor Soto tolde me this tale in iest,A tale tolde in iest, beleued in earnest. I did firmly beléeue it, bicause you Master Doctor did once saye vnto mée in Madrid, that in all the days of your life, you neuer receiued compound purgation, either proued the fast of stilled water. Ther is no arte in this world that makes me lose the stirops (or to say better) my wits, but the maner that Physitions do vse to cure: For wée sée them desirous to cure, and enimies to be cured. And bicause Master Doctor you write vnto me, also you sweare and coniure me, by the desire I wishe to the welfare of my father, that I write vnto you, what is my iud­gement of Physike, and what I haue read of the inuenters birth & and first rising thereof. I will performe your request, although it be more than others would wish, for it is a mat­ter that the wise Physitions will delight in, but wherefore the foolish will giue both you and me to the diuell.

From Madrid, the xxvij. of December. 1525.

YOng and new married Gētleman Mosen Pu­che, to be married vnto the Lady Mary Gral­la: and the Lady Mary Gralla to be married with Mosen Puche, from hence I wishe them good successe of their mariage, and from hence I pray vnto God they may delight ech other long and many a day. Mosen Puche to be married with a wife of xv. yeares, and the Lady Mary to be married vnto [...] hus­band of xvij. if I be not deceyued, there remayneth vnto them sufficient time to enioy their matrimonie, and also to bewaile their marriage.

Anciēt lawes for the maried Solon So [...]onio commaunded the Atheni [...]es that they shoulde not marry vntill the age of xix. The [...] commaun­ded [Page 301] the Lacedemonians that they should not marrie vntill the age of xxv. The Philosopher Promotheus commaunded the E­gyptians that they shuld not marrie vntill the age of xxx. yeres. And if by chaunce any durst marry before the appoynted age, the fathers were publikely chastised, and the children not hol­den for legitimat. If Mosen Puche and the Lady Mary Gralla wer of Egypt (as they be of Valencia) they could not escape vn­punished, and also their children disinherited.

For the great curtesy that I haue receyued of your mother, and for the entire amity and perfect loue I held with your fa­ther, in the time I was Inquisitor at Valencia it gréeueth me to sée you maried in so tender yeres, and laden with so greate a charge: for so great a burden is matrimonie, as you neyther may haue licence to leaue it, eyther haue you age to suffer and support it. If your father did marry you of him selfe withoute consent, he vsed with you no small crueltie: and if you maried without licence, you haue committed no lesse rashnesse. For a yong man of xvij. and a young woman of xv. to dare set vp house, their déedes declareth great temeritie, and want of good counsell in the consent thereof: for the poore yonglings, ney­ther do they know the burden they take in hand, eyther féele the liberty that they lose. Let vs vnderstand what conditions the wife ought to haue,The conditi­ons of the ha­pily maried. and what conditions the husbande must hold in possession, to the end they may be happily mari­ed: and if it be founde in Mosen Puche, and in the Lady Mary Gralla, from hencefoorth I confirme and ratify their mariage, and condemne my selfe to haue spoken without skil. The pro­perties due to a maried wife is, that she haue grauity when she walketh abroade, wisedome to gouerne hir house, patience to suffer hir husband, loue to breede and bringing vp hir chil­dren, affable with hir neighbours, diligence to lay vp and to saue goodes accomplished in things appertayning to honour, a friend of honest company, and a great enemy of wanton and light toyes.

The properties appertayning to the married husbād is,A note for the maried. to be reposed in his speach, milde of cōuersation, faithfull wherin [Page 302] he is trusted, wise wherein he giueth counsell, carefull for the prouision of his house, diligent in the ordering of his goodes, of sufferance for the importunities of his wife, zealous in brin­ging vp of his children, aduised in things of honor, and a sure man with all men that he dealeth. But now demaunding an­swer, if in the xvij. yeres of Mosen Puche, and in the xv. yeres of Lady Mary Gralla, we shall finde all that we haue sayde, or that euer they thought thereof. In men of so tender yeres, and married so yong, it is to be suspected, that such and so delicate things, neyther do they knowe to vnderstande when they bée told them, neyther yet being wanting to aske for them: but I aunswer and also prophesy vnto the xvij. yeres of Mosen Pu­che, & to the xv. yeres of the Lady Mary Gralla, that if they will not learne all these properties, and after their learning ob­serue them, that in a little further processe of time, they with their burden shall fall to the ground, or else eyther of thē séeke newe loue. I hold it not for so waighty to be admitted a nouice frier, as a yong man to be married, for the one may refuse and come foorth, and the other may not repent. The incommodi­ties that do follow the marriage of xvij. with xv. Mosen Puche and the Lady Mary Gralla can more effectually declare, than I can write. For if I say ought, it is by gesse, but they maye af­firme it as féeling witnesses. For men to marry themselues very yong, there followeth great hurtes: whiche is to vnder­stande, their wiues are broken and spoyled in their child bed, weaken their strength, laden with children, spend their patri­monie, soone moued to ielousy, not comprehending what ap­pertayneth to honor, they vnderstande not to prouide for the housholde: the first loues finishe, and new cares approche, in such wise, for marrying them selues so yong, they come af­terwards to liue discontented, or else to be separated in theyr old age.A graue sen­tence of Pla­to. The diuine Plato gaue counsel to his commō wealth, that they should marrie their children in suche an age, where­in they shoulde vnderstande what they did choose, and very well perceyue what they tooke in hande. Graue and very graue is this sentence of Plato, for to take a wife, or to choose a [Page 903] husband is no hard thing, but to vnderstande to sustayne an houshold is very difficult. I haue not bene married, neyther haue had any motion to be married, but for as much as I haue séene amongst my kinred, and haue read in bookes, by that I haue suspected of my neighbours, and by which I haue hearde of my friends, I find by my rekoning, that those that chaunce to be well married, haue here their Paradise, and such as haue had worse chaunce, of their house they haue made an hell. What man to thys day, that hath matched with a woman of such perfection, that wished not in hir some things to be amen­ded? What woman hath chosen a husbande so accomplished, that found not in him some thing to be misliked?

In the first vew of wowers & of their contraction few ma­riages be displeasant, but in proces of time few things be li­ked, and that which is most certaine being in want, and mo­ney spent, incontinent without delay, displeasures knocks at gate. Oh sorowful married man, if thou marry with a gentle­woman, thou must beare with hir pomp and follie: If thou en­counter with a woman that is mild and wise, thou must ac­cept hir pouertie: if thou match with one that is riche,The trauels of the maried man. it may happen thée to be ashamed of hir kinred? if thou choose thée a wife that is fayre, thou hast mischaunce sufficient to watche hir: if it be thy chaunce to obtayne a wife that is foule, after fewe dayes thou wilt shunne thy house, and also seeke newe lodging: if thou boast thy selfe that thy wife is wise, and of goodly personage, also thou complaynest that she is costly and no house kéeper: if thou say of thy selfe that thy wife is a good huswife, forthwith it is reported that no seruant may endure hir fierce crueltie: if thou doest glory that thy wife is honest and chast, many times thou doest abhorre hir for that she is too much ielouse: what wilte thou that I say more? Oh thou poore maried man, that which I speake, besides that is spokē, is: If thou shut thy wife within doores she neuer ceasseth to complayne: if thou giue hir leaue to walke at libertie, she gy­ueth occasion for thy neighbours to talke, and thy selfe to su­spect, [Page 304] and if thou do much chide, she goeth always with a croo­ked countenance: & if thou say nothing, none may endure hir: if thy dispence be in hir disposition, the stocke goeth to wrack: if the laying out be in thine owne hands beware thy purse or secret sale of thy goodes: if thou kéepe thée much at home, she thinks thée suspicious: and if thou come late home, she will say that thou dost wander: and if thou giue hir good garmentes she must go foorthe to be séene, if she be not well apparelled thou art bidden to an euill supper: if thou shewe thy selfe louing she estéemeth thée little, if thou be negligent therein, she suspe­cteth thée to be in loue els where: if thou denie what she cra­ueth, she neuer ceaseth to be importunate: & finally if thou vn­to hir discouer any secret, she cannot but publish it: behold here the reason, and also the occasion wherefore, if in the common wealth there be ten well maried, there be a hundred that do liue abhorred and in repentaunce, which presently would de­part from their wiues, house and chamber, if they could finish with the Church, as they can performe with their conscience. If matrimony amongst Christians were as it is amongst the Gentiles to be diuorced at euery mans liking, I sweare there would be more hast to the lent of diuorcement, than to all the rest of the yeare to be maried.

from Granada the .4. of maye .1524. yeares.

RIght worshipfull aunciente, renued with youthely motion, youre Letter read and considered, that which I con­ceyue and comprehende thereof, is, that it contayneth much writing, and commeth written in very grosse pa­per, whereof it may very well be in­ferred, that you haue wast time, and want of money. Small comforte shoulde he haue at youre handes, that at thys instant should craue youre almes for a Cote,A Mareuedy is the sixt part of a pe­ny. that hathe not a Maruedye to buy a shéete of paper: Althoughe I holde it for most cer­tayne, that if you haue not at this present a Mareuedy to buy paper, at other times you vse to set an hundred Duckats at a rest. The property and condition of Players is, some­tymes to haue greate abundaunce, and at other times to suf­fer greate lacke, in suche wise, that to daye hauing too ma­ny Duckats to play, on the morrowe they haue not to paye for their dinner. I haue sayde it many times, and also writ­ten in my doctrines: that I enuy not these gamesters for the money that they win, but at the sighes that they gyue: by­cause, if they cast the dice with courage, with great sighes they wish their chaunce. But comming to the purpose of youre de­maunde, and answering to youre request: I saye, that if to all the demaundes of youre letter, I shall not aunswer with grace and good eloquence, impute the fault to my disgrace, and also vnapte disposition. And the cause of my disgrace endu­reth not to be written with inke in paper. But it suffiseth a man to be at Court, where be few things to be commended, but many to the contrary. Sir you write vnto me to aduertise you of my opiniō of y^e bailiwick of Orihnela, which y^e Quéene [Page 328] hathe giuen you, and the garde of the frontires of Caspe, whither the Moores of Pampe do passe, and they of Affrica do enter. To this I aunswere, that you haue to make small ac­counte, that the Quéene hath giuen you the charge of Iustice if god deny you his grace: bycause preheminent offices, by ver­tues be conserued, but heroicall vertues amongs offices, do runne in perill. In him that administreth Iustice, it is neces­sary he haue good Iudgement to giue sentence, temperance in his speche, patience to suffer, good counsell to discerne, good dis­position to Iustice, and fortitude to execute. If in the budget of your household stuffe, you finde your selfe furnished with all these kind of goods: you may safely be Iudge of Orihnela, and also gouernour of Valentia. And if your abilitie stretch not so farre, it should be more sounde counsell for you, to kepe your house, than to bring your honour in question and disputati­on. Also you wright vnto me, to aduertise you what was con­tained in the countesse of Concentainas letter, which the quéene shewed me. That which passed in this case, is: that the Earle of Concentaina being dead, my Lady the Countesse presently did wright vnto y^e vassalles of y^e Earldōr, a certaine letter of the sorrow and griefe of hir husbands death: and in the ende and conclusion of the letter, they placed according to the man­ner of such Ladies and widowes, which is to witte, the sorow­full and most vnfortunat countesse, and added ther vnto in y^e place of y^e firme therof, two great blottes. The letter being receyued, and redde by hir vassals, in their counsell before all men: they aduised to aunswere my Lady the Countesse, and also to giue hir to vnderstande, of the sorowe they conceiued of the death of the Earle hir husband and their Lorde. And it séemed good vnto them, that since she hadde changed the stile of hir firme, that also they were bounde too alter the stile of their letter: In which, the superscription therof saide thus: Vnto our sorrowfull Ladye and moste vnfortunate coun­tesse of Concentayna: withinin the vpper face of the letter, where they place the woordes of curtesy and congratu­lation, was after this manner: Righte magnificente and [Page 329] most sorowfull Lady: at the end where was sayd, by the ordi­nance of y^e coūsell, iustice, & gouernours, were made thrée das­shes much blotted, in such wise, that according to the tenor of hir writing, she answered: My Lady the Countesse receyued no small offence thereof, and yet with good grace she sayd vn­to me, that she wished the error had passed by one mans faulte, and not as it was by all their consents. Also you write vnto me to aduertise you how it standeth with Mosen Burela, since the time he receyued that so great distresse in Xatina: Sir vnto this I answer, that vnto me he giueth great sorow to beholde him, and no lesse compassion to heare him: bycause I sée hym wander laden with thoughts, and no lesse forsaken of friends. Beléeue me sir and be out of doubt, that he falleth not in all this world, y^t falleth not out of his princes fauour, bycause y^e fashion or stile of Court is, that the priuate and in fauoure, knoweth not himselfe, & with the fall, and out of fauoure, no mā will grow aquainted. The houses and Courts of Princes be very fortunate vnto some, & no lesse perillous vnto others: bycause there, either they preuayle and growe very greate, or else vtterly lose themselues. All Courtiers séeme to me, to re­semble the Bée, or else the Spider: wherin there be some per­sons in Court so fortunate, that all thinges whereon they lay hands, turneth to golde, and others so vnlucky, that all which they pretend cōuerts to smoke. As concerning our Mosen Bu­rela, I can say vnto you, that he is thoroughly smoked, as tou­ching his honor: and no lesse stumbled and falne in respect of his goodes, bycause he hath lost the office that he held, and the credite wherwith he was sustayned. Sir, also you wrighte to me, to aduertise you of the state of the Sonnes of Vasko Bello, your friend and my neighbour: to this I answer, that their pa­rents hauing past their liues in the trade of merchants, they haue conuerted themselues to the state of Gentlemen: and to the end you vnderstād me better, I say, they be not of y^e Gen­tlemen of auncient right, but suche as haue obtayned by prise and purchase, bycause their goodes being consumed, I holde their gentry fully finished. In the state that men do get theyr [Page 330] liuing, in the same they ought to conserue themselues: for o­therwise, of rich Merchantes, they become poore Seruantes. The Sonnes of Vesko Bello haue quartered their goodes, as if they should haue quartered the same by iustice: for the one part they haue giuen to women, another to banquets, another to dice, and the other to wanton deuises, in such wise, that that which their fathers gate in Fayres, they spend and consume in follies. Sir, also you write me to aduertise you of my iudge­ment, of a certayne new marriage that they offer you in Vil­lena with a woman that is rich, yong, fayre, gentle, and aboue all of good report and fame.

As concerning the first, Sir I can say vnto you, that such a marriage as this, is of many desired, and of few obtayned, by­cause there is not in this world, a woman so perfect and accō ­plished, y^e hath all in hir, that of hir husband may be wished, & nothing found in hir to be remoued & reiected. There be some Gentlewomen, the whiche if they on the one part be riche, of gentle bloud, yong, and faire, they hold on the other part, a cer­taine ouerthwartnesse in condition, and certain frowardnesse in conuersation, that their husbāds hold it for lesse euill to dis­semble that they sée, thā to chide or grow angry for that which they féele. Leauing this apart, Sir you haue to consider, that if she be yong, you are old: and if she be fayre, you are hoare hea­ded: and that it is not sufficient that she doe content you, but that she also of you haue very good liking: for otherwise, shée walking with a crooked face, you shall passe with hir a very tedious life. Amongst the married, it is lesse euill that misli­king do happen vnto the man, than vnto the woman: bycause the husband if he be wise, can dissemble his griefe: but y^e wife, neyther can she dissemble it, neyther yet kéepe silence. If the wife which they giue you, be rich, I hold it for profitable: if she be fayre, I hold it for delectable: if she be of gentle bloud, I hold it for honorable: but if she be yong, I holde it for perillous, by­cause she shall haue wherefore to sigh, to sée you so old: and you shal not wāt, wherfore to watch, to sée hir so yong. I cānot say in whether of you both I may lay the blame, or rather which [Page 331] I may not blame: you, for choosing, or she in accepting: bycause a yong wench of twenty yeares, with an old man of thréescore yeares, is a life of two yeares. Consider well what you doe, and haue regard what you take in hande, and be aduised with whome you marry: for a man of so greate an age, to marry with so tender yeares, from henceforward I prophesy, that ei­ther she shall hate you, or else defame you, eyther else finish or make an end of you. Sir, finally I say, that if you will accept my counsell, and escape anger and displeasure, you shall kéepe your house, and procure and follow your profit: and if you wil néedes marry, you shall marrie with the fatlings of Algezi, with the lambs of Polop, with the white wine of Monuiedro, and with the Claret of Venicarlo, the whiche shall yéelde you substance, and enlarge your life. No more but that I incom­mend my selfe, to the grace of the Lady Leonora of Villa noua.

From Granado the xij. of February. Anno. 1526.

REuerende Chanon, Cornelius Rufus in the late time of Omitus Cincinatus, lying one night in his bed in good health, dreamed that he had lost his sighte, so as he was constrayned to be lead like a blind man, which afterward was found true, for awaking from sléepe he was so depri­ued of sight, that he neuer after could sée either heauē or earth. Phalaris the Theban being gréeuously sicke of a disease in hys lungs, enterprised himselfe to enter into battell, wherin he re­ceyued a wound with a Speare, and suche was his fortune, that he was not only healed of the hurt which in the battel he receyued, but was also discharged and cured of his former ma­lady. Mamilius Bubulus king of Hetruria receyuing in battaile a wound with an arrowe whiche entred his body vp to the feathers, the same being drawen out, the head thereof re­mayning still in hys fleshe, had afterwardes by fortunes [Page 333] fauour this good chaunce, one day going to chase, in pursute of a Hart was cast downe Horse and man into a ditche, out of which mishappe sprang his better lucke, for by meanes of the same he voyded from him the arrow head before left and clo­sed in his flesh, and became afterwards more healthfull than euer he was before. So as we may inferre by that which hath bin sayd, that men full little know what is profitable or hurt­full to them: sure it appeareth that Cornelius Rufus sléeping in his bed became blind, Phalaris the Thebane by hurt of a speare recouered remedie of his former sicknesse: and Mamilius by mishappe of a fall to receyue happie auoydance of the arrowe head whiche before lay closed in his flesh. Wherefore I con­clude and say that all the chaunces of this present life haue in themselues alone no more good or euill than according to their sequele and effect they bring, so that if we find they haue con­clusion to our liking, we count them happie and good: and if contrary to our desires and expectatiō they bring misfortune, vnfortunate and euill, which giueth me iust cause to say that we should not for any flatterie of fortune, or of any good hap be proude, nor yet for any hir frownings and contrary haps despaire. I haue made all this recitall before, to gratify your new recouered health and the departure of your sicknesse, that is to say, that hauing bin thrée yeares gréeuously sicke of a feuer quartan, there hath hapned to your mind some so greate a griefe that the force thereof suffred to driue and beate the quartaine from your house, which maketh me once twice and thrice to affirme that we know not what to require to be hel­ping to vs, bycause diuers times with greate care we séeke that we should flée and eschue, and we flée from that we shuld with all diligence séeke and follow. Amongst the high pre­cepts of the diuine Plato this was one, that we shuld not pray to the Gods to giue vs this or that, but with importunat pray­er to require, that it would please them to giue vs that which stoode with deuine pleasures best to bestow, and to our néede most commodious. The Hebrewes being long time ruled by Iudges, demaunded of God a King to gouerne them, whome [Page 333] they might obey, which God performed, rather to satisfye their earnest petitiō, than of any procéeding from his merciful plea­sure: he gaue them suche a person to their King, as it had bin better for thē neuer to haue demanded or had any at all. Now be it as it be may, or happen what shall happen, I returne a­gayne to reioyce with you for y^e departure of your troublesome feuer, and the bitter anger whiche hathe chaced it from you: though I remember not that euer I red and much lesse heard the Lady Sorrowe at any time caused any good thing to happē vnto vs. I certify you Sir Chanon, if al the diseases might be cu­red like yours with heauinesse and sadnesse, pensiuenesse and cares would then be more déere in our hearts, than Rubarb is now in the Apoticaries shops: and if we shoulde buy sighes, sobbes, and teares in the market for money, I assure you very many both men and women woulde thereby grow excéeding riche and happie, whiche nowe are poore and vnfortunate, by­cause sorow with euery body is so common, that there is ney­ther corner nor place so secret wherein she is not found. Tou­ching my selfe I tell you, if the sighes I haue breathed, and the sorow I haue endured, might serue for medicines to cure the quartaine, I would be bound to set vp such a Shoppe of those merchandizes, that it should serue both Spayne and Fraunce. I haue séene many in this world whereof some wanted their eyes, some their eares, and some their hands: othersome lacke houses, others goodes, and some other apparrell: But I neuer knew nor heard of person were he neuer so poore that had not sorrow and griefe: so is there no house in the world so rich, that sometimes wanteth not money, and of enuies and sorrowes is neuer destitute. Sadnesse saith Salomon drieth y^e sinowes, and cōsumeth the bones, which by you cannot be proued, since it is apparant, that melancholy sullennesse hathe not wasted your bones, but purged youre body of all euill humors and re­stored your health. Now from hencefoorth, if any one come to visit you whē you are sicke, he cannot (as I thinke) more plea­sure you thā to giue or minister occasiō to moue you to choler. But sir I curse your complexion and hate your cōditiōs, since [Page 334] anger, enuie, and sorrowe muste bée your Phisitions to cure your maladies, for men that be reasonable, doo vsually gyue money to inioy myrth and solace, and to escape som sorrowes and troubles. Now if you will beléeue mée, and hereafter fo­lowe myne aduice, bée gladde for the losse of your quartayne, but say not that you dryue him from you with anger & gréefe. For I sweare to you by the law of a fréende, if you do, that all men wyll therefore diffame you, and saye that you are com­pounded and furnished with cholericke, aduste, and euill com­plexion: but for this matter let this suffise. There bée many things héere in the Courte to be talked of in secrete, and fewe to be written openly. For murmurings bée matters of coun­sell, and my letters ofte passe through many mens fingers, which when they cannot rightly vnderstand & perceyue their effect, then euerye one iudgeth and gloseth thereof after theyr owne deuise and opinion. I praye God be your guyde, & gyue vs grace euermore to feare him.

HOnorable Lord and singular frende, it is now ten dayes paste since you requested mée in the Emperours chāber, to resolue you one doubt, the which to doo I haue searched with payne, and vsed what diligence I possibly myghte: holding it but iustice to submit my trauell to your cōmaundement, that neuer denyed mée any thing which I requested of you: desiring you withall to respect, that if I séeme long in satisfying your demaunde, it is not want of dili­gence to searche, but of good happe quickly to finde that which I séeke, and you desire to haue, bycause a man of youre state and calling, muste bée serued with truthes and reason, and not with fabling vncerteynties. Your Lordships desire is to [Page 335] know why the greate Turke is termed the Greate Turke: and wherefore the followers of Mahomets feete be called Sar­racens, some Mores, and some Turkes, being all of the lawe and religion of their only god and Lord Mahomet? For the dis­cussing of the which doubte, and for that you may the better vnderstande my resolution of the same: I am forced to re­cite the historie to you (as it were from the firste or begin­ning. Vnderstande my Lorde,The originall of the Turks that Asia the lesse is a region whiche with many other Regions is inclosed, all which ge­nerally are called greate Turquie: it boundeth towardes the Easte, on the confynes of Arabia minor: on the west it is en­closed with the great lake Cynia: and on the north side with the floude Euponius: and on the southe coste it is walled with the mounte Pithmiaus. In this Turquie néere to Armenia, by the greate hill Paton, was an auncient Citie named Truconia, whereof the inhabitantes were named Truconians, after the name of the Citie. Within this Citie Gothes did come to in­habite, who bycause they coulde not call it Traconia, pronoun­ced and called it Turquie, and Cityzens Turkes: so that the worde Turquy is a name corruptly come from the worde Traconie. Within the countrey of Turquie is sundry prouin­ces: as the Prouince of Licaonia, whereof the chéefe citie is Icaonia: Likewyse Cappadocia, the chéefe whereof is Cosaria: the Prouince Isanca, whose heade citie is Solenna, which now is called Briquemust: the countrie called Icaonia, whose chéefe citie is Fer, in olde tyme named Quisguaince: also Paflagonia, whose capitall or Metropolicke towne is Gernapolis, in which moste properly ended the whole Asia. And as within this cuntry of Turquy is conteyned many seuerall countryes and prouinces, so hath it euer bene peopled with men of seuerall cuntries and nations, as with Asians, Gréekes, Armenians, Sarracenes, Iacobines, Iewes, and Christians: The whiche albeit they acknowledge the Greate Turke for chéefe Lorde, yet notwithstāding they were not all in obedience to one kind of lawe and religion.

[Page 336]In like manner you must note that in the kingdome of Pa­lestina, which bordereth vpon Damas, there were thrée Arabies, as Arabia Silapide, The first Saracyns. This Mahomet was borne in A­rabia, issued of the line of Is­maell and of a base place: he being an Or­phant was sold to a great Mar­chant, his ma­ster dyed, he married his wy­dow, he was in­structed in false doctrine by a Moonke named Sergius a fugi­tiue from Con­stantinople, he afterwards cha­lenged and the people attribu­ted certaine de­uine veneration vnto him, whych the vnlearned Barbarians were prompt to be­leeue, so as whē by force of the falling sicknesse he fel, he feyned to the people that he could not endure the brightnesse of the Angell Ga­briell, whome he affirmed to celebrate with him the secrets of the highest, with many suche abhominable errours, and such like abuses he a­bused the peo­ple. that nowe is Siria maior: Arabia deserta, ioy­ning vpon Egypt: and Arabia Petrosa, which is compassed with Iudea. In Arabia Petrosa, by the floud Iordanus néere the mount Libanus, ther dwelt an ancient kinde of people called Saracyns, which were so called after the name of Sartato their chiefe and Metropolitan Citie, which at this present be still so named Sa­racyns. This kind of people in times past were much estéemed for their strength and valiantnesse in warres, and were then had in reputation therefore, as the Swissers are accompted of at this day in Europa, in such wise, that no Prince durst enter­prise against any other to battell, except he were ayded with the strength of Saracyns. It chaunced that Heraclius a Romane Emperour passing through Asia to inuade the Persians, reque­sted ayde of the Saracyns in the same voyage and iorney, to whome he promised good vsage and true pay, the Saracyns a­gréeing to Heraclius request, came throughly furnished with 40000 footemen souldiars, whose Captaine generall was a gentleman of their own countrey called Mahomet, a man sub­till in witte, of valiant hart, and fortunate in exployt of war, as he manifested most puisantly by obtayning more honour than any other in the Campe, whereby he grew in dayly re­putation amongst his owne companions, and more fearefull than the Wolfe is to the Shéepe, to the hearts of his enemies, which hanging the times of these warres, caused the Empe­rour Heraclius to fauoure him aboue all others. The warres ended, and licence giuen for all the straungers to departe, he sent the Saracyns away discontented and not wel payed, which moued them, and their generall Mahomet to rayse mutine and coniuration, in suche wyse, that they assayled Palestina, whyche before they had subdued, and inuaded the countreys of Aegypt, Damas, the two Syrias, Pentapolis, and Antioch, with­out resistaunce of any person.

Here also you must vnderstande, that Mahomet was by his father a Gentile, and by his mother a Iewe, whyche is the [Page 337] cause why he was fostred in Iudea. He held one Sergius which was infected with the heresies of Arius and Nestor, a very am­bitious man, for his especiall friende. By whome Mahomet vnderstanding well, what honour and reuerence the Saracyns yeelded vnto him: and accompting him selfe their head and chiefe, determined to become their King & lawegiuer, to the end, as King to be reputed, and for lawmaker to be worship­ped. And as thys mōster Mahomet had a Gētile to his father, a Iew to his mother, and a Christian Heretique to his chiefe friend and instructer: so each of them vsed their seueral lawes: out of whiche thrée he determined to elect one, to satisfye, or more properly speaking, to delude all nations. Thus this mis­creant (nothing regarding the soules health, nor due reforma­tion of the common state, but thristing after the renoune of a Prince during life, and the fame of their lawgiuer after death) instituted and published a sect, or rather a rabble of ab­hominable preceptes, and detestable counsells: thereby to chaunge the vertuous, and therewith to delight the vicious and wicked.

In the yeare 630. Heraclitus inferred and began his warres against the Persians, and in the yeare 632. the warres ended. In y^t yeare 632. Mahomet by conquest subdued the greatest part of Asia, and in the yeare 636. he gaue his lawes to the Saracyns his countrymen, the which he first brought into Arabia Petrosa, not by preaching in worde, but murdering with sword. The gouernment of the East thus resting, it chaunced in the yeare 642. that an infinite number of barbarous people, passing by the stréetes of the mountaynes Caucasus, to inuade that part of Asia Minor that bordereeh on Asia Maior, whose comming brought good successe to the Nations adioyning. These peo­ple by discent were of thrée mighty rude countries, that is, of the Scithians, now called Persia, of the Panoniās now named Hun­garia, and of the Escaines nowe called Denmarcia: whiche bar­barians departed foorth of their natiue soyle, as it is iudged, constrayned with penurie and want of victualls, as also with the Ciuill warres which they had amongst themselues. For [Page 338] being without a gouernour, they liued by robbing and pilling one from another, euermore driuing the weakest to the worst. Whereat Mahomet astonied at this their arriuall, and séeing the Scithes and Paenonians dayly more and more to endamage Asia, and to become so stout, as to furnish themselues with pla­ces of defence, he determined with a mighty power of Saracyns to encounter them. This thing dismayed the Barbarians, and caused them to assemble togither, where they chose one Tran­golipique for their general, a man in warres much fortunate, and in peace most vicious.

Now the warres of the Scithians and Saracyns grew so hote, so long, and so cruell, that in thrée yeares and a halfe was soughten sixe mightie and bluddy battells, wherein Fortune declared hir mutabilitie, for to the Saracyns she was vnfriend­ly, and to the Scithians nothing fauorable, sometimes gyuing victory to the one side one day, and tryumph to the other side on the next day. Which the Scithians well noting, and percey­uing that their number was muche decreased by meanes of those warres: and also the Saracyns beholding the presente spoyle of their countr [...] ▪ they agréed amongst themselues vp­pon Articles ensuing, to continue friends for euer: that is, that the Scithes shoulde receyue the lawe of Mahomet, and that the Saracyns should giue them that countrey to inhabite. Whyche accordingly tooke effect, and was concluded in the yeare 647. that the Saracyns and Turks became friends and confederates, and from that time forwarde, did wholly submit themselues to the obedience of Mahomet, taking him for king, and vowing fidelitie to his lawes.

Strabo, Plynie, Pomponius Mela, and Gelaton, whiche haue described all countries in the worlde, make little accompte of Turkie before suche time as the Scythes beganne to inhabite the same, who in the end became so strong, and the Great Turk and Turquy so famous, as at this day it is reputed one of the most renowmed Empyres in the world.

From Tolledo the .7. of Ia­nuarie. 1533.

GLorious Admiral & curious Lord, neither doth it profite mée to bée angrie, eyther to hold my peace, to exclame or complayne, neither yet to cease to make answere: but y^t alwayes I must continue in combate with your letters, as also with your messengers, for absoluing your doubts. It is but .15. dayes since I answered your letter, and not a month since I absolued a certaine doubt: I am determined with my selfe not to answere you to any letter, neither to declare you any doubt vntill the counsell of Saratan haue considered therof, and they of Villaunblalo do determine and iudge therein.

To performe wherin you request mée, & to execute the case which you cōmaūd me: I may not deny vnto your Lordship, that I haue not séene much, heard, passed, & also reade muche: but ioyntly herewith, your honor hath to consider, that I am now become old, wearied & also tired, & go ladē with greate a­faires, which be of necessity, but your doubts procéede of will.

I haue sayde & also written vnto your honor many times, as you are but of little bodie, & haue that minde so generous & noble, it should be much to your ease,A necessarie consideration betwixt will and necessitie. that you & Alonso Espinel made exchange, which is to wit, that he should lend you some more body, wherin that hart of yours might be conteined: and you bestow on him some more heart, for that grosse and so vn­weldy a bodie. Cōsidering the great dulnes of Alonso Espinel, and the excéeding spirite & liuelinesse of your honor: I do not thinke to be deceiued, to vouche that your Lordship is a soule without a body, & that he is a body without a soule.A harde com­fort. One thing doth yet comfort me, which is, that as your Lordshippe nowe groweth old, and I also, both olde & sickly: we shall not much write eche to other, and much lesse vse mutuall visitation: bi­cause, as the diuine Plato sayd, that yong men at times die so­denly, but olde men may not liue long.

[Page 352]Little or muche, or muche or little, may it please the king of heauen, that that which we lyue, we may liue to his ser­uice,An accompte to be made, not what wee liue, but howe we liue. for that we haue no accompte to make, what we lyue: but howe we lyue.

Leauing aparte both your iestes, and my complaintes: I my Lorde from hence foorth am determined to answere your letters with all breuitie, as also to declare vnto you all your doubts: for as Horace the Poet sayth, it appertaineth to wise men,A counsell of Horace the Poet. to shewe a willing minde in that, wherein necessitie constreyneth.

Cōming to the purpose, your honor cōmādeth me, to write vnto you, y^e maner which they vsed in old time to make their sepulchers, & the fashion which they obserued in placing their Epitaphes: for as it séemeth, you meane to take order for your sepulture, & to deuise for the inuention of your Epitaph. From hencefoorth I say and diuine, that all those which shall sée my answere vnto your demaunde, will maruell, & also as it may chance to laugh, for that I shalbe forced in this place to relate histories very straunge, and customes neuer heard off.

Plinie in the beginning of his seuēth booke, reciting the great miseries wherwith man is borne, & the immesurable trauels wherin he liueth, sayeth thus: Amongs all the beasts that na­ture hath brought foorth, only man crepeth, onely man is am­bitious,Errors of mans life. man onely is proude, couetous, and superstitious, only desireth long life, & maketh a sepulture wherin to be bu­ried: moste truely Plinie spake greate troth, bicause all other beasts, neither riches doth make proude, neither pouerty doth make sad, neither care to lay vp in store, neither trauell to ga­ther togither, neither wéepe whē they be borne, neither grow sad when they shall dye: but only trauell for liuing, without carefulnesse where to be buried.A superflu­ous care. Onely the foolishe man is he, which fetcheth marble from Gene, Alabastre from Venice, por­phire from Candie, bone of Gelofe, and Iuory of Guinea: for no greater purpose than to build a stately chappell, and to erect a sumptuous sepulcher, where to bury his bones: & the wormes to gnaw his intrailes. I do not disalow, eyther reproue, but y^e [Page 353] rather I admit, & prayse, to build good churches, to erect great Chappells, to endue with good doctrines, to paint faire stories, and to make rich ornaments: but ioyntly therewith I say, that I hold it for more safe, that a man trauell and payne himselfe to leade a good life, than make a rich Sepulture.A sound coū ­sell. Oh how ma­ny poore men which are buried in Churchyards, whose soules reioyce and rest in heauen: and how many, which be buried in sumptuous and stately Sepulchres, whose soules be tormēted in Hell. On that night which Troy was burned, Aeneas intrea­ting his father Anchises to depart the Citie, to the end he should not want a Sepulchre,A smal boast of Anchises. the old man aunswered Facilis iactura Sepulchri, as if he had sayd, There is no lesse griefe vnto manne, than to want a Sepulchre. The King Anchises sayde well in that he spake, since we sée the liuing man complayne of the bi­ting of a flye, and of a flea that doth offend him: but of a man that is dead, we neuer heare any complaynt, for any lacke of ringing, or want of sumptuous buriall.

If Homer and Pisistratus do not deceyue vs: The Cithes were the people that with most pomp did burie their dead, and in most reuerence did hold their Sepulchres. Zenophon the The­bane sayth, That the Cithes fléeing before Darius, he sent word to knowe how farre they woulde runne: they aunswered, we Cithes make no great accompt to lose our houses, our fieldes,S [...] of [...] thi [...] neither oure children, neyther yet our selues, in respect of of­fence to the Sepulchres of our forfathers: vnto the which whē thou shalte approche, oh King Darius, there shalte thou sée and know, in how much more we estéeme the bones of the dead,Th [...] me [...] thei [...] An [...] eni [...] ceas [...] amō [...] than the life of the liuing.

The Salaminos buried their dead, their backs turned against the Agarens, whiche were their mortall enimies: In such wise, that their enemitie endured not onely in time of life, but also when they were dead.

The Massagedas at the time of death of any man or womā, they drew foorth all the bloud in their vaynes: and that day all the kindred being assembled, did drinke the bloud, and after­wards did burie the body.

[Page 354]The Hircans did washe the bodies of the dead with wine, and did anoynt the same with a precious oyle: and after the parents had bewayled and buried the dead, they kept that oyle to eate, and that wine to drinke.

The Caspians in finishing the last breath were cast into the fire: and the asshes of the bones being gathered into a vessell, did afterwards drinke them in wine, in suche wise, that the entrayles of the liuing, was the Sepulchre of the dead.

A straunge Sepulture.The Cithes held for custome, to burie no dead man, without burying a liue man with the same: and if by chance ther were not that willingly would be buried with the dead, for money a slaue was bought,A violence without all reason. with violence to be buried with the same.

The Bractians whiche were a people very barbarous, with smoke did cure the bodies of the dead, as we now vse to smoke oure Bacon: after at times (in stead of Martelmas béefe) by péecemeale to boyle the same in the pot.

An art most barbarous.The Thibirins did by industrie breede certayne most cruell Dogges, the whiche at the last gasp of the dead, were cast vn­to y^e Dogs to be eaten & torne to péeces: in suche manner, that the bowels of the Dogs, was the place where the Thibirins did burie their dead.

An vse of the Chibirins most inhu­mayne.And for y^t it shall not séeme that we speake of fauoure or at large, your honor hath to read S. Ierome against Iouinian, & the Poliantea, in y^e title of sepulture, where you shal find al that I haue said, and also much more which we haue omitted here to be written.

Of the sepulture of Belus, of Minus, of Semiramis, of Promo­theus, of Ogiges, and of the other kings of Aegipt, Diodorus Siculus resiteth so many and so fabulous things, the whych I thinke better to omitte than to wright, to auoid his dishonor and mine owne trauell.

The Cithes did burie their dead in y^e fields, incoffined with a certayn wood of Cithia incorruptible. The Hebrues did burie their dead in their inheritances or vineyards: vppon the same they erected a faire couer curiously wrought, & of stone of great choyce. Commonly in olde time they did burie within their houses, or in the mids of their possessions, and so at this presēt [Page 355] appeareth in Italy, that wheresoeuer ye shall find any Tombe of earth & stone, it signifieth that there hath bene erected some honorable sepulture. Foure Sepultures haue bin in Rome,The foure notable Se­pultures in Rome. most rich and stately: that is to vnderstand, of the great Au­gustus, whiche at this presente is called the néedle of Adrian, whiche now is the Castell Saint Angell: of the good Marcus Aurelius, whiche is erected in the fielde of Mars: and of the valiant Seuerus, which was placed in the Vatican.

Many Princes, both Gréekes, Latins, Romayns, Persiās, Medes, Argiues, Hebrues, and Germaines, did make & build many & very stately temples: but we reade of none that com­maunded or gaue order for themselues to be buried therein: but in the fieldes, and their Temples they did dedicate vnto their Gods. More than thrée hūdreth yeares after the founda­tion of the Christiā fayth, none at any time were buried with­in the Church: whereof it procéedeth, that it is not found in a­ny of the ancient Legends of the martirs, but that such a mar­tyr was buried in Cimiterie of Pretexato, either of Calisto, or els in the house or inheritance of some faithfull Christian.

Long time after the great Constantine, this custome was brought into the catholike Church, to be buried in the same: & it is to be thought, that it rather procéeded of the deuotion of the faithfull, than for any interest to the Cleargy.

Also your honor sayth in your letter, that you hold me for a man both carefull and curious, for whiche cause you suppose, (for that I haue passed diuers times with Caesar into Italy, and haue many ways traueled through Spayne:) I shuld haue col­lected and recouered some Epitaphs of Sepultures, worthy to be séene, and notable to be red. I cannot denie, but that after the manner of a Drunkarde, that venteth for the best wine:A commenda­ble manner of drunkennesse. so doth mine eyes stare and wander to find out some old Se­pulture, that may contayne some thing to reade, or sentēce or Epitaph worthy the writing: and as I haue trauelled many & diuers lands & prouinces, I haue sene many & very anciēt se­pultures, in which I haue found some writings graue, some sharpe, others deuout, some malitious, some gracious, & some foolish, [Page 356] in suche wise, that some are to be noted, some to be skoft, and others to be laughed at. If I had thought that any would haue bene so curious, as to haue craued or demaunded them, as I haue bin carefull and curious to search and find them: I would haue held them in more estimatiō, and also haue commended them to more safe kéeping: for of them I haue lent, giuen, lost, and some haue bin stolen, and othersome I haue reserued.

But the case shall be thus, I will send vnto your Lordship all manner of Epitaphs, whiche is to vnderstand, suche as bée graue, malicious, foolish, and some that be gratious: for that in y^e good your honor hath to note, & in the other wherat to laugh.

In an Hospitall of the incurable, that is in Naples, Caesar vp­pon a certayne festiuall day did heare seruice, where I saw in the great Chappell, a Tombe of a yong gentleman, whereon his old mother had placed this lamentable Epitaph.

In the same kingdome and Citie of Naples, vppon another festiuall day, Caesar wēt vnto a stately Monasterie of Nunnes of S. Clare, wher I found a Tombe of a certaine gentlewomā betrothed, which hapned to die the same wéeke she shuld haue bin married: vpon whome hir parents bestowed this lamen­table Epitaph.

In the Citie of Capua, I found a Sepulture very old, and in a manner defaced, in which these letters were ingrauen, al­though very short, yet comprehending much.

[Page 357]In the Citie of Gaieta, one of the strongest vpon the Sea coast in all Italy, being there with Caesar, I met with a Sepul­ture not of the oldest, vpon which were written these words.

In Rome walking the stations of Saint Paule, passing at greate leasure beholding the Churche: I encountred with an old Sepulchre vppon the ground: on the stone whereof these words were ingrauen.

In the Monasterie of Minerua in Rome, whiche be of the or­der of Preachers, I sawe in a certaine Tombe written these words.

Caesar being in the warres of Africa, the Viceroy of Cicilia died, which was called the Earle of Monteleon, Lord of Calabria. And for that by iustice he did cutte the throte of the Earle of Camarato, and with him many others, the Cicilians did deadly hate him for the same. The cause was thus, being buried in Saint Frauncis of Mezina, by night they added this title vpon his Sepulchre, as I was aduertised by the warden of the house.

[Page 358]In the yeare a thousande fiue hundred twenty and thrée, comming out of Fraunce by Nauarne, in a little Churche in Viena not farre from y^e Growine, I saw an Epitaph vpō the Tomb of the Duke Valentine: which without writing, I commended vnto my memorie: and as I thinke thus it sayd.

In the warres of Lumbardy there dyed an auncient soldi­er, which was valiant and meanely rich, who was buried by his friends in a little Village betwixt Plazentia and Voguera, on whose Sepulture were written these words.

In Alexandria de la Palla, I found another soldier buried in the Churche within the Castell; vpon whose Sepulture, that is to say, vpon y^e wall, I saw writtē with a Cole these words.

In the Citie of Aste, when Caesar went to make warre in Fraunce, we stayed certayne dayes: A Souldier was buried in [Page 359] the monasterie of Saint Frauncis, & as it séemed being very poore, made his will very rich, vppon whose Sepulture ano­ther Soldier placed these wordes.

In the Citie of Nisa, we buried an honorable soldier that had bin Captayne: but in the morning, and at night, with a Cole I saw written vpon his Tomb these words.

In a place of Spayne which shall be namelesse, I founde the Sepulture of a certayne Gentlewoman, vpon whose Tombe these words were written.

In the .18. yeare, I being warden of the Citie of Soria, going to preach to the Camp of Gomara, in a little Village I encoun­tred with an old Sepulture, vppon the stone whereof were written these words.

This yeare past, in visiting my Byshoprick of Mondonedo, I found in the Archdeaconship of Trasancos, in a little Churche by the Sea side, an auncient Tomb, which they sayd was of a gentlemā naturall of y^e place, which had these words writtē.

Going for Custos of my prouince of conception, in a gene­rall Chapter, ioyntly with certayne religious Portingalls of my order bound to the same place: amongst the which the warden of Sanctaren a man both wise and learned, vnderstan­ding me to haue delight in old things, sayde that in his Mona­sterie, vppon a Tombe of a Portingall Gentleman were written these words.

An amplifica­tion vpon a small cause.So high a sentence, so delicate words, and so certain a troth as this, as God saue me might not procéed, either be inuēted, but of a man of an high & delicate iudgement: they wer spokē in Portingall, in a Monasterie of Portingall, in the behalfe of a Portingall, and a Portingall saide them: whereof I ga­ther vnto my selfe, that the nobles of Portingall be wise in their attempts, and of sharp iudgement, in what they speake. To my iudgemēt, my appetite, & to my tast and liking, to this daye I haue not heard or red a thing so gratious, as y^e letter of that Sepulture: bycause, ther may not be said a greater troth, than to say that Basko Figueira, or any other persone, is in hys Tomb much against his will. What Sepulture is in thys world so rich, wherein any man desireth to dwel, or wisheth to be buried, what man is so insensible, that woulde not rather liue in a narrow houell, than in a large and ample sepulture. Not only Basko Figueira lieth in his sepulture against his wil, but also the Machabees in their Piramides, Semiramis in hir Polimite, the great Cirus in hys Obiesko, the good Augustus in hys Columna, the famous Adrian in his Mole magno, the prowde Alaricus in hys Rubico: All whyche if we coulde de­maunde of them, and they aunswere vs, woulde sweare [Page 361] and affirme, that they dyed without their owne consent, and were buryed agaynste their willes. My Lorde Admi­rall from hencefoorth I diuine, that if Basko Figueira lyeth deade in his sepulture agaynst his will: with an euill will I dare auouche you will bée buryed in yours, although moste certayne the chappell is riche, and your Tombe very stately.

Your honor hath to vnderstande, that I thought good to en­large this letter, to the end you should haue, wherat to maruel, and also wherwith to laugh with a protestation that I make, that if you wryte agayne within this halfe yeare, I wyll re­fuse to answere: for that I haue in hande certayne woorkes of myne owne, presently to be printed, and after to be publi­shed. No more, but that our Lorde be in your kéeping.

From Valiodolid, the .xxx. of Marche, 1534.

RYght Noble and pitifull Prelate, if your reuerend Lordship do conceyue that for the gallant baye mule which you haue sent mée by Orlande your Stewarde, I shoulde submit my selfe to do you great seruice, eyther to ren­der greate thankes, ye are greatly de­ceiued: for although she be both faire and good, I haue wonne and gayned the same by a sentence pronounced agaynste your honor, for the costes of processe, and the amendes wherein you are con­demned, when your moste reuerend Lordship and the Duke of Naiarra, vppon a certaine contention did elect mée for your iudge: which is to wéete, where the situation of Sagunto shuld haue stande, and the renowned Neomantia should haue bene: wherein to determine and verifie your doubte, I studied very [Page 362] muche, and traueled not a little. And since you are condemned in a Mule, and consented vnto the sentence, once againe I ad­uertise your honor, that I will neyther restore hir, and muche lesse pay for hir. My Lord the Duke of Naiarra your brother, at Courte doeth dayly threaten mée, that eyther by violence he will take hir from mée, or else cause hir to be stolen: wher­fore I humbly pray your honor, to commaunde that he leaue me in peace, otherwise I promise you, to proue vnto him, by my auncient histories, that the borders and limites of Naiarra, haue bene twoo leagues within the Duchie.

But nowe setting aside all iestes, to speake in earnest, I shall performe with right good wyll, what your honor doeth commaunde, as touching the exposition of the passage in Exo­dus, which I preached last in the presence of Caesar.

An exposition of the .25. cha­piter of Exo­dus.In Exodus, the .25. chapter, it is written, that our Lord God sayde vnto Moyses: Emunctoria quoque facies, & vbi ea quae emuncta sunt, extingantur, fiant de auro purissimo. As if he would haue said, About the lampes of the Temple, thou shalt haue snuffers of most fine golde, to snuffe withall: and also thou shalt make a basen of gold, wherein to laye the same.

A necessary maner to ex­pounde the Scriptures.But now to vnderstande this text very well, it is conueni­ent and necessary to take holde of the Scripture farder of, and more déeper: bicause in the profound and delicate passages of the holy scripture, it doth muche importe to declare the texte from the bottome and very roote.

Wherein it is to be noted, that immediatly after our Lord God had deliuered the children of Israell out of the country of Aegipt, he gaue them a lawe to obserue, Priestes to informe them, magistrates to gouerne them, a land to inhabite, Manna to susteyne them, and a tabernacle to praye in. The curious reader shall find in the Psalmes and Prophets, many times these names repeated: that is to saye, Tabernacle, Sanctua­rie, Aultar, Propiciatorie, Sancta Sanctorum. Which names al­though they were verified in the synagoge of the Hebrewes, there was notwithstanding a difference of the one and other. Tabernacles among the Iewes was as muche, as among [Page 363] the Christians at this present wée call Churche. The order wherof although it be difficile to write, neuerthelesse it is ve­ry mysticall, and worthie the vnderstanding.

In the middes of the hoste, where the Hebrues did aduance their pauilions,A description of the Taber­nacle. they left a certayne space of an hundreth cu­bites in length, and fiftie of breadth: where on both sides they erected twoo stately pillers, which did serue for distinctions or separations of the roume for the Priests from the people. All which place as well in length as breadth, the Israelites did name Tabernacle, whiche is as muche to saye, as a place de­dicate onely to God. In the middes of this tabernacle, was placed a solemne and a magnificent altar, where vpon the sa­crifice was done: there was also the greate bason of water, where the Priestes did washe: and for that vnto that place, and no further, the Israelites might not enter, it was named Sanctuarium, which is to say, a place sanctifyed.

Within the Sanctuarie there was another separation, of the space of thirtie cubites in length, and ten of breadth, made of Sittim woodde, and alofte hauing the fashion or forme of heauen, it was couered with a triple couerture, whereof the one was made of red shepes woolle, the other of goates heare, and the other of Taxus skinnes, whiche was for defence of the rayne and Sunne. Vnder this sayde heauen, and in the mids of this sayde place, there was the holy table, vpon which was sette the holie breade, called the loues of proposition, and the holie incense, and other swéete odors. This place héere na­med, was called the holie Tabernacle, bycause the Priestes onely myght enter: vnto the whiche place no other person would aduenture to approche.

In the middes of this tabernacle ther was a great curtaine strained betwixt the pillers, within the which was the taber­nacle of witnesse: wherein also was placed the tables of the law, the Manna of heauen, & Aarons rod. This place was in­tituled the holy of holiest: wherin the high Priest might enter once a yeare. Within the sayd Arke there was a table of fine gold, somwhat more long thā broad, wheron were placed two [Page 364] Cherubins of golde at euery corner, their wings alofte stret­ched abroade, beholding eche other. In the middes betwixt the cherubins, there was a darke clowde, within the whiche was the Angell that gaue answeres, as God commanded: And al­so answered what the good olde Moyses determined. In this place where these cherubins are, was the moste secrete and sacred of all the tabernacle. This place was called the Propi­tiatorie: bycause in that place, the Lorde God did manifest himselfe more propice and neare, as well to pardon, as to answere them. Besides the propitiatory, and neare the aultar of the tabernacle, night and daye was fire, wherein also they did burne the holocaustes, sacrifices, and oblations.

Within the tabernacle and propiciatory, ten paces or there aboutes off the mercie seate, or Sancta Sanctorum, was placed a magnificent candelsticke of fine golde: whereon were fyxed sixe lampes full of oyle Olyue, which did burne day & nyght, to giue light to the tabernacle. Héere it is to be noted, that neither in the auncient Tabernacle of Moyses, either in that famouse Temple of Salomon, it was not commaunded, either permitted to burne tallowe candels, eyther tapers of waxe, but lampes of oyle: for the mysterie of the waxe, the onely woorkmanshippe of the hony Bée, was left to lighten the Ca­tholicke Churche. And bycause the Tabernacle, the Sanctua­rie, the Aulter, the mercy Seate, and Sancta Sonctorum, were holie places, and edifyed onely vnto God: The law comman­ded they shooulde be decked, nete, cleare, and gladsome: and not fowle, or fylthie. Wherefore the Priestes had alwayes neare vnto the candelsticke, snuffers of golde to snuffe the lampes, and a basen of golde, incontinently to place and put out that whiche was snuffed. Beholde the litterall sense, and that whiche was permitted in the Synagogue, nowe ryght reuerende, it is greate reason that wée declare what wée vnderstande as touching these snuffers, and the snuffing of the lampes.

WOrshipful Syr and Christian Knight, Iohn de Cabreta your Steward deliuered me a letter from your wor­ship, which was as long as betwéen Madrid & Alma­gro, where at this present you do remaine: wherby if you thinke to receiue no short answere: by writing so long a Letter: you do much abuse your selfe, for wanting oportunity & leasure to studie: I maie not imploye my selfe to write such long & tedious Epistles: especiallye, when he to whom they are written is simply, but a friend: Yet true friends delight, not only in reading lōg letters, but are grieued if their friends write not euery day: al which aboue sayd, is not to say: that I estéeme not to place you in the chie­festes rankes of my best friends. And if you imagine the contrarie, you are much deceiued: For your friendes & mine do wel know that Don Ferdenand de Cordoua, and Friar Anthony de Gueuarra Bi­shop of Mondoneto be twoo bodies ioyned in one wyll, linked in a chaine of in dissoluble amitie. But omitting this discourse, & retor­ning to your letter: I assure you it pleased me very much, & chieflie in that I perceiued your good dispositiō, which is no smal matter in y^e middest of these perillous heates. Now touching the persecutions of the myllitant Church: wherof you haue written, & wherof the Prior of Calatrana & you haue liberally discoursed: I aunswere, that there haue beene many persecutions of the Church: done at sundry times and by seuerall Princes. And for that I greatly desire to do you that seruice which lyeth in my power, I haue not fayled to sende you the sayde persecutions in order as followeth.

The first persecution was in the raigne of y^e Emperour Nero, the which (possessed with y^e Deuil, in whose bonds his offēces did impri­sō him) perceiuing the nūber of Christiās daily to increase at Rome (by grace of y^e euangelical worde which Peter & Paul preached there, where they were martered for such conuersion of y^e people) determi­ned with his power to persecute & destroye the Church: whereby he murdred many Christiās, as wel in Rome as els where, which was the first persecution of the Church. For albeit the Church since the suffering of Christ hath béen continually persecuted in hir perticuler [Page 406] members, yet notwithstanding vntyll the comming of Nero, there went forth no commaundement to persecute the Christians.

Touching the constancy of the Martyrs, and the diuersitie of the tormentes which they endured (beside the Catholique Historiogra­phers which write therof) Cornelius Tacitus a Painim writer, and enemie to the Christians (yet verye credible in his writing) doth re­port the same: who making recitall of the persecutions made by the ordinaunce of the Emperour Nero, (of whome Sueton maketh also mencion) doth say of the slaughter of Christians, both men and wo­men: that amongest a thousande diuersities of punishmentes and deathes, they cast the Christians to be torne in péeces with dogges: And to make the dogges more fierce vpon them, the men were bra­ced in skinnes of Beares, and other sauadge Beastes. Which per­secution was performed (as witnesseth Cornelius Tacitus and Sue­tonius) after the huge fire of Rome: In the eleuenth yéere of the Em­pyre of Nero: by whose decrée the glorious Apostles Peter and Paul were martyrred. It maye well bée, as I also beléeue, that this mar­tyrdome continued lytle more then thrée yéeres: For though it were done at that time (according to the Prior of Calatrana his opinion) yet God would preserue his Apostles, and deferre their martyrdoms vntyll the foresayde time.

The second persecution was in the time of the Emperour Domi­tian. This wicked and accursed monster, vnderstanding that there should one spring out of the lyne of Dauid, which should expell him out of the Empyre, he caused search to be made with much diligence, for all those whiche descended from the race of Dauid amongst the Iewes, and caused them to be put to death: onelye raunsoming as Eusebius sayth twoo persons of the same familie, who further for the accomplishment of his deuillishe deuices, at the motion of the fiende he determined to persecute the Catholique Churche: Whereby at his commandement a great slaughter was made of Christians with­in Rome and without. In which persecution multitudes of the Chri­stians were at the first committed to banishment, who after were tormented, and then murdered by most horrible paines and cruell deaths, as affirmed Eusebius: Orosius and many other Christian Hi­storiographers. This was the second general persecution of the pri­mitiue Church, in which S. Iohn the Euangelist was confined, or [Page 407] exiled into the Yle of Pathinos where he sawe the visions of the A­pocalips. It were hard to know how long this persecution endured, but as we may gather by Eusebius, it continued twoo yéeres & a lytle more. For he sayth that Domician dyd moderate and cease his exe­cution, and yet notwithstanding aswel by reason of the sayd persecu­tion as for his other vices, the same Domician hath béene holden to be one of the most wicked and cruell Princes that euer liued.

The third persecution of the Church was vnder the gouernment of the Emperour Traian, who allured by the Deuill & his other mi­nisters determined by torments to punishe the Christians: and ther­fore by publique edict, ordayned that the Christians should worship the Idol of the Gentiles vpon paine of death: Wherevnto the Chri­stians not wylling to obey, he made a great slaughter of them. This was the third persecution of the Church Catholique, whereof Euse­bius and diuers other Historiographers Christians do make plenti­ful mencion, & that was in the tenth yéere of the Empyre of Traian, which afterward also commaunded this persecution to be stayed as doth apeare by some writers, & especially in the letters of Plyny di­rected to Traian, & in the answeres thereto sent by the same Empe­ror which are at this presēt extant, where he prescribed that the chri­stians should be permitted to lyue in their Lawes and vnder theyr liberties: If they dyd not commit any other wickednesse therewith.

The fourth persecution was in the time, and vnder the dominion of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius surnamed the Philosopher, whose lyfe we haue discribed in another booke apart by it selfe, this Prince during the tyme that he made warres against the Parthians, as Eu­sebius and Orosius do declare, endeuored his power to persecute the Christians, which remayned in Europe and Asia, where Lucus Va­rus was gouernour. This was the fourth persecution of the Church myllitant, so that it followeth that God suffered this general pesti­lence to raigne amongst them, and a thousande other callamities to happen vnto them enduring the gouernment of this Prince as wee haue largely declared in his Cronicle.

The fift persecution of the Church was during the raigne of Sep­timus Seuerus the Emperour the which by the instigation of y^e deuil, made a great butcherie of the faithful Christiās. This fift persecutiō was the cause (as fayth Osorius) y^e God dyd not permit this Prince [Page 408] to lyue in peace, for one of his Captaines rebelled against him, na­med Albinius, the which made all Brittany to reuolt from him, cal­ling him selfe Emperour during the time of his life.

The sixt persecution of the Church was in the time of the Em­perour Maximius, the cursed Prince being offended that Alexander Seuerus had supported the Christians, by expresse ordinaunce & com­mission made a great and blooddye spoyle of the Christians, & princi­pallie of y^e ministers of those which executed any aucthoritie amōgst the Christiā people: This was the sixt persecutiō as saith Eusebius & Orosius in the which this Prince vsed many vnacustomed tormēts, and caused diuers cruell punishmentes to be inuented, whereby the poore Christians might be miserablye handled, who had such an opi­nion and presumptuous pride of himselfe & his power, that he estée­med that no person might once hurt him, and that it were impossible to wounde or to kyll him. In which opinion he most deuillishlie pur­sued all his cruelties and tormentes.

The seuenth persecution was in the rule of the Emperor Decius: This Prince although otherwise he were of good naturall dispositi­on, was notwithstanding in religion an Infidell, and in that respect sought the vexation of the millitant Church, so that no such crueltye were before tyme vsed, as nowe in his tyme towardes the afflicted Christians. The which is affirmed that he onely dyd in despite of his prodecessour Phillip: who had before béene Christened. And so this seuenth persecution was in the time of this Decius.

The eyght persecution was enduring the raigne of the Em­perour Valerian: who (as Eusebius doth report) was so fauourable to the Christians in the beginning of his raigne, that he would not permitte that any personne dyd them any wrong or violence: for he bare such affection and honour vnto them that his pallace was a true colledge and sanctuarie for the Christians: but towardes the ende of his raigne, he suffred him selfe to be seduced by a Magicien of Egipt, who was a deadlye enemie to the Christian religion, because the same dyd impugne the deceiptes and Sorceries of the Magicians. In such sort that he dyd not all onely chaunge his opinion towardes the Christians, but also persecuted them with great slaughter. This was the eyght persecution of which Orosius doth liberally discourse, but such was the iustice of God for his cruell excesse, that such euyll [Page 409] fortune followed Valerian after this déede, that he was taken priso­ner and fell into the handes of Sapor King of Percia which dyd in­treate and handle him most cruelly.

The ninth persecution of the Church was in the time of the Em­perour Aurelian, who hauing most louinglie vsed the Christians in the first sixe yeares of his raigne (as appeareth by the writing of Eu­sebius and Orosius) in the ende by the prouocation of the Deuill and other most wicked persons, he persecuted the Christians generally throughout all the confines of his Empire. And this was the ninth persecution of y^e faithfull. Now it happened that as this Prince was readie to signe a commission which he was to dispatche to the gouer­nors of the Princes of the Empire against the Christians, an arrow fell from Heauen so neare vnto him that those which were present, thought that it had kylled the Emperour. But besides this signe and aduertisement God suffered the effect to followe, that is to saye, the death of the aforesayd Prince, for he was miserablye slaine by his owne men and seruauntes, and by the same receyued the guer­done and payment of his desartes and offences.

The tenth persecution was in the time of the Emperour Dio­desian. This Prince being in quiet rest from all his affaires, styr­red by Belzebub and his ministers: he being a Painim and norished in the supersticions of the Idolatrye of the Gentiles, beganne to persecute and pursue the Catholike church, which was the tenth ge­nerall persecution of the Christians, (to accoumpt from the same of Nero) and this was the most cruell & longest of continuaunce of al o­thers, the which endured by the space of ten continuall yeares. Now the Christiās had long time liued in rest & quiet since the persecution which was in the gouernment of the Emperor Aurelian, in such sort y^t the Christian religion was now become of great force in all chur­ches. And all the Cities and Towns, as well within the dominions of the Emperour, as without the limmits of the same: and the Chri­stians were excéedinglie multiplied in nomber, and had great assem­blies in their Churches. But as sayth Eusebius, this rest and libertie which they enioyed, was cause that the pollicie and maner of lyuing of the Christians began to bee corrupted, so that many iniquities & wickednesse dyd grow presently, & the old former sanctimony began to deminishe, and such disorders & discentions began to be moued a­mongst [Page 410] the Bishops and the Prelats, that as the sayd Eusebius wit­nesseth: God permitted this persecution to serue in place of reuenge, and chastisement of his Church. This persecution was so great, so cruell, and so blooddy: that it is impossible for any pen to write the vnnatural slaughters which the Paynims vsed: neither is there any tongue that is able to pronoūce them. The which Eusebius doth well declare, being a present witnesse, beholding the same with his eies, as done in his owne sight: for he sayth that he cannot discribe nor speake that which he saw executed before his face. To whom Orosi­us doth condiscend, wryting in the same sort, that there was not any heart so harde that would not be moued to compassion, reading the cruelties of this persecution. Which amaseth me to consider of the constancie of the Martyrs which endured such tormentes so valiant­lye, and of the cruelty of those which murdered and tormented them so maliciouslye. And to the entent that you and all other shoulde know what punishments this butcherlie Prince ministred vnto the Christians, I haue wyllinglie recited some notable partes of the same, which be these. Fyrst this Prince dyd ruinate and sacke al the Churches of the Christians, and forbid them to make any assembles for the seruice of God in any part: be commaunded all the bookes of the holy Scriptures to be burned which they might finde. Also he or­dayned that all Christians of what estate or condition so euer they were, should not be admitted to estate or any office of Magistrat, and y^t those presentlie which were placed in any offices should be remo­ued, and counted infamed, and some were put to death for example.

Further they appointed that the goodes of the Byshops and Pre­lates Christians, shoulde be declared to be consticate and for fayted. The Christian bond man could not be manumitted or enfranchised. And these Lawes were published through the confines of the Em­pyre. Besides the which constitucions, the poore miserable Christi­ans, were otherwise most wickedly intreated, and receiued diuers outragious iniuries: diuers being enforced to dye cruellye and with much shame. And in some prouinces where they were blinded with affections & perticular occasions which the Deuil guided by the per­mission of the diuine God, they vsed many cruelties and incredible horriblenesse towardes the Christians, as in Frigia, Suria, Egipt, and diuers other countreys, for some were broyled and scorched in [Page 411] lyfe, and others had theyr fleshe carded as though it had béene well, or flaxe, which poore Christian creatures after suche burning and torments, were throwen into straite prison, in great féeblenesse, and yet honest and constant in the faith, they were hanged naked by the féete, to prolong theyr deathes the more with shame and dishonesty. And by that meanes endured double torment, of some they cut of the noose, the eares, the fingers, the handes, and the féete, and onely left them theyr eyes to behold their miserie, and to encrease their griefe and paine, they tare some alyue quite in the middest, tying one legge to a great arme of a Trée bended with force, and the other legge to a­nother trée crooked in the same manner: Afterward letting the same Trées to returne into his naturall place, for to cleaue the body in sunder. So others they vsed this cruelty, that they pricked sharpe néedles and great thornes betwéene the nayles of the fleshe and the handes, which be the most sensible and tenderest partes of al the bo­dy. Some other men were beaten with rounde balles, and pellets of Leade and Tynne. In conclusion they were enforced to endure and sustaine the most cruell tormentes which might bée deuised, by the Deuilles pollicie. And this slaughter of the Christians was ex­céeding great, during this persecution.

The eleuenth and last persecution generally of the Church was enduring the gouernment of the Emperor Iulianus, which was an Idolater, & Sacrificer to the Deuill: Which Emperour studied by al meanes he might to persecute the christian church. Who likewise to attaine the effect of his purposed deuise, dyd vse a singuler & vnaccu­stomed subtiltie, by the which vnder cloked & collor of shadowed cur­tesie & benignitie, he did enféeble the Christiā religion as much as he could, giuing them alwaies yet to vnderstand, y^t he was soft & gentle by nature, & not cruel & rigorous. This new inuēcion in persecuting the Church was subtilly found out by him as I think, bicause he had séen & by experiēce did vnderstand y^t the blood of y^e martirs did cause the christiā religion to spring more frutefully. And therfore he deter­mined to worke & procéede contrary to y^e other Emperors his prode­cessors had performed, y^t is to say, to draw y^e christiās vnto his Idola­trous worshipping by aduancement of estats, offices, & dignities, as witnesseth Ruffinus, S. Hierom & Casiodorus, so y^t hereby he caused diuers ambicious & couetous persōs to denie christianity, & to folow Idolatry, by means of y^e estates & offices which they had giuē them. [Page 412] This was the greatest wound that euer the Church receiued, for di­uers Christians by the meanes of this inuencion, remooued theyr faith, but in the ende when the Emperor Iulian perceyued that these deuises serued to small ende to his entent, although he made them not to léese their lyues, neyther dyd violentlye constraine their con­sciences. Yet he published diuers hurtfull edictes against the Chri­stians, and verye vitious for Christianitie. First he commaunded that no Christian might obtaine any degrée in Schoole, kéepe Lec­ture, or reade in any arte or science, whatsoeuer, neyther that hée might be admitted to studdie, vnlesse he dyd worship the Idols. The which he dyd to the ende y^t the Christians banished from the know­ledge of learning should be brought to Idolatrie, or that they should els remaine fooles and ignorant Ideots, and so by continuance that none should be able to preache the Euangelie. Also he ordained that no Christian shoulde be admitted to any estate, office, or dignitie of Magistrate, eyther in warre or peace. In conclusion this monster searched out all the wayes to rayse battaile against Iesus Christ, without shaedding humaine blood, which was the right deuise of the Deuill, to depriue the blessed Martyrs from the glorye and crowne which they should haue obtained for theyr martyrdome. Behold the first, & most notable persecutions, which the church millitant sustai­ned: since which time there hath béen many other, in euery seuerall place, but they were of small importaunce in respect of these before sayde. Touching the rest, because I am wéery of writing this long letter, & that my pen can do me no more seruice therin. I say nothing else but this, that I wyl more redéelie employ my selfe towards the Countie of Osarno, for y^e affaires of Vasco lopes, which you haue re­cōmended vnto my fauor: as soone as the sayd Coūtie may attend the same, for he kéepeth his bed at this instant, & laboreth gréeuously of y^e Gowte. The Lord haue you in his kéeping, & giue mée grace to serue him.

From Valiodolid the .15. of Iune. Anno. 1541.