Charles by ye grace of God Prince of Wales, Duke of Cornwell, etc.
G:G:

PLINY'S Panegyricke: A Speech in Senate: Wherein publike thankes are pre­sented to the EMPEROUR TRAIAN, By C. Plinius Caecilius Secundus Consul of ROME.

Translated out of the Originall Latin, illustrated with Annotations, and dedicated to the PRINCE, By Sr ROB. STAPYLTON Knight, Gent. in Ordinary of the Privy Chamber to His Highnesse.

OXFORD, Printed in the yeare 1644.

TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTIE PRINCE CHARLES, PRINCE OF GREAT BRITAINE, DVKE OF CORNWALL AND ALBANY, &c.

SIR,

MY duty (that moves alwaies to your presence, as the flame to heaven) is now more imboldned, because in the present eruption of Licentious Pamphlets, I conceive it seasonable to publish a modest worke, and necessary to intitle it to inviolable protection. Humbly therefore I con­secrate to your Highnesse Pliny's Panegyricke, which hath lived many Ages with constant appro­bation in his Dialect, and even in my rude expres­sions (being cherished with your gracious smile) may have the honour to out-live all those abor­tives [Page] of the Presse, that (like their compeeres the vipers) are curst into fruitfulnesse.

Such as his Booke, such was the Author, uni­versally approved of; for what merit, appeares by his advancement in those times when merit onely was preferr'd, his prudence, erudition, and integri­ty of life advancing him to the Consulship of Rome, and yet higher, to the impartiall estimation of his Prince, for whose favours gratefull Pliny to this day payes tribute: For now when Trajan's Annals lye in fragments, when those imperiall Statues and Triumphall Arches, that should have immortali­zed him, have confessed their owne mortality; be­hold (in this Panegyricke) that best of Caesars from his Ashes reascends his Throne, where he still go­vernes the world, as an example.

But, Sir, you have (and long may you have) a living example, the absolute paterne of all virtues, His Sacred Majestie, whose Heroicall and Divine Principles we know are written in your heart, because we read them in your actions. From hence flowes your particular regard to the deserving, from hence your generall affability, and (which in your Spring of yeares we behold with greatest admira­tion) your love to Iustice equalls your love to Men; and both these Affections are steered by Iudgement, great as your Birth and Spirit.

[Page]What fitter wish can I make to so much good­nesse, then that of the Romane Senate to their Em­perours? May you beEutropius. Ʋsque ad nostrā aetatem non ali­ter in Senatu Principibus ac­clametur, nisi foelicior Au­gusto, melior Trajano. happier then Augustus, better then Trajan: to whom you are now so just a Paral­lel, that I present his Character as a marke of your owne height in honour; whereon if your High­nesse please sometimes to cast your eye, you may discerne how you out-grow him in those perfecti­ons, vvhich render you the Modell of your Excel­lent Parents, and the joy of all their Loyall Sub­jects; among the faithfullest whereof, as my study, so my hope is ever to be number'd:

SIR,
Your Highnesse's most obedient and most faithfull servant ROBERT STAPYLTON.

The Preface to the READER.

THat the Booke may present lesse distraction from the margent when you carry the subject in your memory, give me leave to prepare you with a short view as well of Trajan's private condition, and the publique state of the Empire when he was elected, as of his Conquest of the King of Dacia justly occasioned by this Panegyricke, Vespasian Cae­sar had now declared the Jewes Rebels, and accordingly denounced warre against them, when he sent L. Trajan (father to Trajan the Emperour) then Tribune of the tenth Legion, with two thou­sand Foote and a thousand Horse against Aphaca in Galilee, a City naturally strong, and fortified with a double wall: The Gali­laeans draw into the field, the Tribune gives them battaile, beats them within their first wall, and falls in pellmell with them. The City, fearing he would do the like at the second wall, locke out their owne men, who were, by the Romanes, all put to the sword to the number of twelve thousand. Trajan hearing no more of the Gar­rison, and presently apprehending, that either none remained, or such as durst make no resistance, reserves the honour of taking A­phaca for the Emperour himselfe. Titus is sent, who commanding the right wing, and Trajan the left, the Towne is Stormed; and the Tribune afterwards honoured with Triumphall ornaments, and made Consul of Rome. This was the first eminent Rise of Trajan's Family. Nor did the Fathers happy Starre finish its course in him, but came to a higher elevation in his sonne, whom he trained under his command, as the Eagle breeds his Eaglet, first to looke up at heaven, and then to governe as Vice-Roy to the Dei­ty. Spaine was young Trajan's Country, warre his cradle: when he was yet a youth he commanded in chiefe against the Parthians▪ nor did Vespasian imploy the father with a truer intention to re­munerate [Page] his service, then Domitian imployed the sonne onely to speed his death upon the bed of honour, which was made for him in severall and farre distant climates, Trajan being still sent away, where new danger threatned Domitian, who was carefull to pay the last hazard of his Generall's life with a fresh occasion of a more desperate engagement; but in vaine he laboured it, for a higher power both preserved and retributed Trajan, not (like his father) with a Consulship, but with that very Empire under which he so long and so injuriously had suffered. For Nerva succeeding Domitian, and M. Trajan (now Generall of the German Legi­ons) being at Colein, there happen'd, in the Pretorian Campe near Rome, a dangerous mutiny; which shaking the Imperiall Crowne on Nerva's head, made him settle it upon Trajan. The cause of the insurrection was this. The Pretorians (the Emperours Life­guard) which were at first quartered scatteringly in Rome, had beene drawne out into a standing Campe, when Sejanus was their Prefect: who possessed the Emperour Tiberius, that living in Towne debauched the Souldiers, whereas fixt in a body they would better observe discipline, and be readier for any present service. What this cunning allegation meant, subtiller Tiberius soon found out, & Sejanus as soon felt in his own destruction. Yet still the Pre­torians continued in a Campe, and howsoever the designe failed in the Individuall, yet it tooke in the generall; for though they made not Sejanus Emperour, yet they made Emperours afterward at their pleasure. At this very time they were sensible of the great­nesse of their power, and therefore expected answerable Donatives from Princes, which Domitian poured into their hands. But Nerva was more provident for the publike, then to empty the Treasury to fill private purses, and the loyalty of the Pretorians more weake, then to stand firme without a golden buttresse. The ill humour, now stirred in them by their aged Emperours frugality, was fomented by their Prefect Aelianus Casperius (made their Captaine by Domitian, and not removed by Nerva) who likewise missing his owne covetous hopes, quickened their inclination to [Page] rebellion, giving them for a pious pretext the specious colour of doing justice upon the conspiratours against Domitian, not in­cluding Nerva in the number (for they knew him innocent) but only requiring the lives of all that were actors in their masters death; to whom Nerva had given a Prince's word for the indem­nity of their persons, which surely is a sufficient [...]; yet to take away all Scruple (which might breed jealousies, and consequently cause disturbances of the publicke peace) he had likewise past his oath to an Act of Oblivion in Senate. But the Prince's Act shall not binde them against their Captaines Protestation, Caspe­rius is their Legislator, and according to his Fundamentalls, they oppose the knowne Law, and clamour to have Domitian's mur­therers brought to condigne punishment, that is, they declare them­selves judges of the matter of fact, and in the same moment ap­peare as executioners, and were a great deale fitter for this office. Nerva withstands them, and when he sees no perswasion can pre­vaile, offers his owne bosome naked to their fury, that death might free him of his promise. But this was no part of their instructions, by which they punctually proceed, and execute all the men their Prefect had mark't out for slaughter. Nerva now finding that old-age rendred him contemptible to the souldier, not having an heire of his owne, considers only that which Electours ought only to consider, merit, and having pitcht upon the man that already ruled in all mens hearts, he went to the Temple of Jupiter Capi­tolin, and in the presence of a great multitude that followed him, uttered these words Bona fortuna Senatûs Populique Romani & mei ipsius, Marcum Ulpium Trajanum Nervam adopto. May it be happy to the Senate and People of Rome and to my selfe, I adopt Marcus Ulpius Trajan Nerva. Thus giv­ing Trajan his name and adopting him for his sonne in the Capi­tol, he immediately transferred his Soveraignty and declared him Emperour in Senate: Nothing now wanted to perfect the reesta­blishment of the late endangered Empire, but only to provide that an example of rebellion so destructive to government might not [Page] with impunity be past over, by his sonnes calmer temper. I should wrong Nerva to conceive that his revenge could have any end but the publicke good; for had he beene vindicative, he had not suffered Crassus with the other Conspirators against his owne life to escape unpunished; whom be was so farre from hindring in their intentions towards him, that as they sate with him beholding the shewes presented in the Circus, he made swords be brought them, and sayd, Inspicite si acuti sint, Looke if they be sharpe, plainely signifying (as Dion observes) that he cared not how soone they would dispatch him. Without controversie therefore it was the Empire, not himselfe he sought revenge for, writing with his owne hand to Trajan these words of Chrysis Apollo's preist (In Homer) praying to his God against the barbarous Greekes, that denyed him his daughter's freedome upon ransome tendered.

Iliad. [...]. Let thy shafts make the Greekes repent my teares. Every line in Homer was then by the Romans accounted sacred; I am sure this proved propheticall for Trajan, after his Father Nerva's decease, sent for Aelianus and his Praetorians, who came expecting great imployment which they deserved not, and found the ignominious death which they deserved. Nor did the Emperour Trajan only do exemplary justice upon rebellious Subjects, but likewise punished a revolted Prince, Decebalus Kings of Dacia, who had formerly by his Embassadours sued for Peace, and himselfe in Person pro­strate at Trajan's feete accepted such conditions as he pleased to give, viz. to lay downe armes, to yeild up his Engins and Engi­neeres, to deliver Fugitives, to slight all workes, to demolish all Fortifications, to depart from the lands he had intrenched upon, & to esteeme those freinds or Enemies that were so accounted by the Romans. In pursuance hereof, after Trajan's returne to Italy the Dacian Embassadours come to Rome, and are admitted in­to the Senate, where yeilding up their armes and joyning their hands after the manner of servants they supplicate in few words [Page] and so the peace being confirmed, their armes are returned them, this done Trajan triumphes for his conquest over the Dacians, and is stiled Dacicus. But Decebalus cannot sit quiet, nature (custode potentior omni) struggles to shake off the Roman fet­ters, to which he lately had submitted; for he being (as Dion de­livers him) ingenious, and of great experience in the warre, nim­ble to invade, or to retreate if need required, one that knew excel­lently how to lay ambushes, and to give battaile, to use a victory to his best advantage, and moderately to beare an overthrow, and having so often fought with the Romans, and evaded even their victories by his stratagems, relying upon his owne abilities (and conceiving that Trajan, whose person he more feared then his ar­mies, being now warme in the pleasures of Rome, would hardly venture backe into the Dacian frost and snow) he breakes all the articles of peace, takes up armes, entertaines fugitives, fortifies, by his Embassadours sollicits his neighbours to revolt, and allready had possessed himselfe of some of the country of the Jaziges [now the territory of Sibenburghen.] This newes the Senate had, when the Consul Pliny made this Oration to Trajan, whose spi­rits he so inflamed against that King for his contempt of the Em­pire, that he would not substitute any Generall, but undertooke the warre against Decebalus in person, and to accelerate the worke caused a stupendious bridge to be built over Danubius, in such a part of the river where the torrent was so strong, that there was no turning of the water; the Bridge consisted of 20 piles or pillars of squared stone, every piller (not reckoning the foundations) be­ing 150 foote long, 60 foote broad, distant from one another 170 foot, and arched above. Passing his army at this bridge he fought securely with incredible celerity, and at last with much difficulty conquered. Decebalus, seeing his palaces and Kingdome possessed by the enemy, and fearing his owne turne would be next, slew him­selfe, and though he had (according to his usuall subtlety) turned a river to hide his wealth and drawne backe the streame againe; for more security, causing the servants he had imployed in it to be [Page] put to death, yet all that vast treasure came to Trajan's hands, be­ing confessed by Bicilis after the fate of his great freind Dece­balus, whose head was brought to Rome, and Dacia by Trajan made a Roman Colony.

Secondly, Because Pliny, through the whole frame of his Pane­gyrick illustrates Trajan's virtues, by comparing them with Do­mitian's vices, lest you suspect him to be a flatterer for praising a good Prince eloquently, or thinke him a detractour for no lesse eloquently dispraising a bad, I shall give you the characters of both those Emperours, as I finde them in the most authenticke Histories; and first of the first in priority of time. Domitian was a bold and furious man, very full of tricks, and vaine, so that he was rash on the one part, and crafty on the other, for much he laid waste break­ing in like thunder, and againe he destroyed much upon plot and and premeditation. He never truly & with his heart loved any but a few women, yet he alwaies made as if he affected him whose blood he thirsted for. So diffident he was in those that gratified or flatter­ed him in greatest matters. that who presented him most money, or accused most men, them he was sure to ruine, especially servants that informed against their Masters. But though this was his carriage in his Empire, yet he exceeded himselfe in casting asper­sions on his father and brother, whom he hated because they pre­ceded him in honour: to avoid which infamy (as he esteemed it) be bragged, that they left not, but restored the Empire to him, which he had bestowed upon them. He would mention his brother Titus with teares, as if he had beene acting his part upon the Stage, and lament his greatest share in the losse of that delight of mankind; but notwithstanding he did all things con­trary to his determination, and tooke away the Circensian games, meerly because they were celebrated upon his birth-day; loving no­thing of his brother's but his daughter Julia, whom he forced to marry him, and his Eunuch Earinus; yet because Titus had loved Eunuches, in scorne of him he forbad that any more should be made within the limits of the Roman Empire. Now and then he made great entertainments, and his wine flowed [Page] in the night-time, which as it was sure to please the people, so sure were some of the Nobility to die for it, that he might recover his expenses with a confiscation: Men knew not, safely, either how to condole, or congratulate with him, lest they should or be a trouble to him, or seeme to take notice of his dissimulation. Such his impatience of labour, and his timerousnesse, that when he lead his Army against the Dacians he himselfe never saw the face of an enemy, yet such his pride and vain-glory, that after the foule losse of almost all his men, he writ letters of his conquest to the Senate, and by their decree the world was filled with his silver and golden statues: But what in him was worst of all, though he writ himselfe Lord and God, and coveted infinitely to be flattered, yet both they that did, and they that did not adore him were equal­ly displeasing, for in those he held it to be flattery, and in these neglect.

Trajan had a spirit so well tempered, that youth made him not rash, nor old age slow. He envied none, ruined no man, graced all good men with honours and dignities. He gave no credit to detra­ctours, had no furious passion, and was as farre from taking another's propriety, as another's life. His expenses were vast, both in times of warre and peace, wherein he finished many necessary Workes, as High-wayes, Havens, and Publique buildings, yet never shed any ones blood to defray the charges. He was by nature magnificent and magnanimous, and therefore when he had en­larged, and beautified the great show-place, he set up an inscrip­tion, that he had perfected the Circus, that it might containe the people of Rome; from whom he more coveted love, then ho­nour; carrying himselfe with civility to the people, with noble­nesse to the Senate. He was deare to his Subjects, terrible to his enemies. He hunted and feasted with the Romanes, was present at their serious and merry meetings, where he often sate downe the fourth guest, nay, many times, came without his guard to private houses, and lay there all night. And though he affe­cted warre, yet he commanded so, that he broke his enemies, and increased his friends; for it never happened so to him (as com­monly [Page] it falls out in Armies) that his Souldiers shewed themselves insolent, so well and rationally he managed his affaires: nor was he so intentive to the Warre, that he omitted what belongs to Peace, but sate in person in the Courts of Justice, and in the Forum of Augustus, Livia's Gallery, and divers other places heard and de­termined causes. To summe up all in his owne words attested by his actions, he was to private men such an Emperour, as being him­selfe a private man, he wished an Emperour should be to him.

Thus having endeavoured to vindicate my author's worke from obscurity and his fame from censure, I shall have an eye in the last place to my selfe to prevent the nicer Critickes, that will (I know) be busie with my very first words, especially when so strong an objection lyes against them, as that those very Senatours whom I call Lords, could not endure the title. I answer, the Romans understood the word (Lord) in a twofold notion, first as it had slave for the Correlative, and consequently signified Tyrant; and then as it rela­ted to Subject or inferiour, and was the stile of one in Soveraign, or subordinate authority. So that Pliny himselfe, who in the former sense abhorres the stile of Lord in his Panegyricke, in the second ac­ception stiles Trajan Lord in his Epistles: and I by the same rule intitling the Senatours Lords of the Senate, shall (I doubt not) ac­quit my self to the Learned, whereas the Consull would have spoken like a Roman newly landed, scarce intelligible, if I had used Con­script Fathers in the Concrete; and when I had come to the Abstract Fatherhood or reverence, I should have made a Colledge of the Se­nate. As in this part so in the whole take notice, I beseech you, that I as industriously decline Latinismes, as Politian in his Trans­lation of Herodian professes to shun Graecismes.A. Politianus in Praefat. ad Innocentium viii. Ne inepta peregrinitas, ne Graculae usquā figurae, nisi si quae jam pro re­ceptis habentur, Latinam quasi polluerent c [...] stitatem. Lest foolish forreigne words, should as it were staine the chastity of our Language.

To conclude, I must desire this favour, that if the Latin of your Pliny differ from my English, you will believe, that you and I have severall Editions. So leaving you to entertaine your selves a while with Pliny's Life (his perfect Picture in the Antecamera) that being perused, you may be pleased to open the Senate house, and hear him speaking.

THE LIFE OF C. PLINIVS COECILIVS SECVNDVS.

THe Learning of the Romanes and their Empire flourished together, for about the time of Augustus and Trajan lived their most illustrious Writers, and among them the two Plinyes, whereof the younger (Authour of this Panegyricke) was sonne to L. Caecilius by the sister of that other Pliny the naturall Historian; who having no childe, and finding that his nephew would be heire to his knowledge made him (by a­doption) heire likewise to his name and fortunes. His Tu­tours were Niceas the Priest, and Quintilian the Oratour. When he was military Tribune in Syria Euphrates the Philosopher read to him. He was much delighted in translating Greeke authours into Latine, and Latine into Greeke, which made him master of both the Languages. When he was very young he writ a Greeke Comoedy, and divers Poems which the Grecians themselves applauded. At one and twenty yeares of age he pleaded in the Roman Courts of Justice in the Forum, and afterward in Senate defended Causes of high con­cernment. He was patron to the Spanish in their accusation of Be­bius Massa, & Caecilius Classicus, & delivered the charge against the Proconsul of Africa, Marius Priscus, whom his Province impeached of bribery and extortion. Being Praetour, according to the duty of his place, he set forth the usuall Playes and Showes, but with more then usuall magnificence; that he might appeare to Domitian onely to intend his pleasures, wherein he disguised himselfe with better fortune, than poore Domitius Glabrio, who fought naked with the Lions in the same Emperours presence, for Pliny (though with much difficulty) escaped the jealous and inquisitive eye of that cruell Prince, who made it his master-piece, what maske soever was put on; first, to discover, and then to cut off Virtue. With great integrity and equall reputation, he discharged the Offices of the Emperour's Questour, Tribune of the People, Praefect of the Treasury, and high Commissioner for the reparations of the Aemi­lian Way, and the Bay and Bankes of Tiber. The Collegue of his military Tribuneship was Calestrius Tyro, of his Praefectship and [Page] Consulship Cornutus Tertullus. In the Augur's dignity he succeed­ed Iulius Frontinus. He was sent with Proconsular power to go­verne the Provinces of Pontus & Bythinia, from whence he return­ed to Rome: no lesse honoured for his prudence, then for his indu­stry and moderation. An instance whereof, to his eternall honour, is that noble testimony of the behaviour of the Christians living un­der him, which he certified to Trajan, writing to this effect; that he perceived their number to increase, and lest so many should suf­fer death without the guilt of some enormous offence, he had tryed all meanes and wayes to discover the intent of their private assem­blyes, and found upon examination, That they met before day, onely to sing hymnes to Christ as God, binding themselves by Sacrament, not against the Roman Lawes, or to commit any crime; but to renounce theft, robbery, faith breaking, and denyall of Depositums intrusted to them, eating together at those meetings, promiscuously, but innocently. To his demand, what course he should take with these men? Tra­jan answers. Conquirendi non sunt. His pleasure was they should not be inquired after. Which gave a stop to that violent Persecution, the onely spot in that cleare sky of Trajans fame; so prevalent with him were Pliny's words, who obtained of his Prince many favours and honours for his friends, and for himselfe whatsoever he would make his suit. The great estate that came to him by inheritance, and was increased by his owne prudent industry, his noble nature muni­ficently bestowed. Witnesse his bounty to his Tutour Quintilian, to whom he sent five hundred thousand Sestercii, taking the occa­sion of his daughter's marriage, that he might buy her wedding clothes, and set her forth according to the quality of her husband; forcing the summe upon him, with this further complement, that he knew his minde was great, but his fortunes small: that is, if com­pared to those of Pliny: but that Quintilian (as some from that E­pistle do inferre) wanted in his old age, I can hardly credit, when I remember how another of his schollers admires his wealth.

Juv. Sat. 7.
Ʋnde igitur tot
Quintilianus habet Salius?

How got Quintilian so much land then? Where Iuvenal makes him, for his fortunes, the miracle, the white crow of Rhetorick-ma­sters. I rather believe therefore, and the magnificence of the guift it selfe declares, that this was no supply of wants to Quintilian, but the expression of gratitude in Pliny. Many great bounties he conferr'd, as upon Comus and Firmus, whose estates he made up [Page] 3125 sterling, being the Census Equestris, and enabling them to claime all the Priviledges of Gentlemen of Rome. He was likewise munificent to his nurse and to diverse other particulars, not forget­ting the publique, for at Novo-Comum, the towne where he was borne, he founded a Free-schoole, which he liberally endowed, as­signing a third part of the revenues to the School-master, and build­ing and furnishing a Library for the benefit of the students. Briefly his Wealth was so farre from needing addition, that when Cornelia offered him two hundred thousand Sestercij, for a piece of ground, he conceived it a great indignity that she should thinke any summe (how vast soever) could purchase the least part of his inheritance. And as he scorned to sell ignobly, so he did to gaine unworthily, for in patronising Causes he not onely forbore presents and ordinary guifts, but refused New-years guifts. His house in Rome stood (where the chiefe of the Patricians lived) in the Esquilian Mount, of all his Country houses his favorite Villa's was that seated in the plaine, which he named the Comoedy: and that standing upon the rising of a bill, which he stiled the Tragoedy. He much delighted (like the old Romanes, Numa Pompilius, the Pisos, and the Fabij) in gard­ning and tillage, which was the reason (as I conceive) that made him give for the impresse of his Seale, a Waine. He had two wives, the first Calphurnia, the second Pompeia Celerina, with whom he lived very contentedly, though without issue. The most learned of his friends were the Poëts, Virginius Romanus, Silius Italicus, and Valerius Martialis; the Historians, Suetonius Tranquillus, and Cornelius Tucitus; the Civill Lawyers, Pomponius Saturninus, Ti­ous Aristo, and Cornelius Mutianus; Among which Tacitus was his Counsellour, Suetonius his companion, and Martial his Pen­tioner. Of all his Freed-men he especially affected Zosimus, who hath his masters testimony for an honest, serviceable, and very learn­ed man. His name is immortalised as well in the History of Tacitus, as in his owne workes both Latine and Greeke, though (to the great prejudice of learning) of all their number now no more are extant, but onely this Panegyricke, his Epistles, and a little Treatise of men famous for Military and Civill government. His constant course when he writ any thing, was, first to censure himselfe, then to heare others read it to him, after that to desire his friends opini­on, if he were not then satisfyed, to consult two or three more; last­ly he would read his workes in a full Audience of the learned, which they now challenge by prescription.

PLINY'SA Panegyrick is a publique Speech made in praise of any one [...] signifying praise and conven­tion. Panegyricke.

My Lords,

WEll and wisely our fore-fathers instituted, that as ourThe Romanes began their Actions with consulting the gods by an an­cient Institute. Val. Max l. 1. That they so prefaced their Speeches, ap­peares by those in Livy most of them begin­ning Quod foe­lix faustumque sit SPQR. actions so our speeches should begin with prayer; because nothing can be rightly or providently begun by men, without the assistance, counsell, and honour of the Gods. Which custome who is more concerned to practise, then thePliny. Con­sul? or when should it rather be received and observed, then now, when by command of Senate, and authority of the Republique we are enjoyned to present our thankes to theTrajan. best of Princes. For what more excellent or greater bounty of the gods, than a chast, reli­gious, and a godlike Prince. And were there yet a doubt whether fortune or providence gave Rulers to the earth, it would be cleare howsoever, that the Deity [...]. Princes are of Jupiter. Ho­mer. Iliad. β. The Caesars are of God Vegetius. bestowed our Prince upon us; for not by the secret power of Fate, but publiquely and openly he was pointed out by Jupiter himselfe, being elected betweeen theThe places for the 3 degrees of Roman Sacrifices were, to the Infernall Denyes Scrobieuli little furrowes, to the Terrestriall, Arae the sacred pavement or floore, to the Coelestiall Altaria named Altars from their exaltation. sacred pave­ment and the Altar, in the veryThe Temple of Jupiter in the Capitol, which had on each hand (within the same walls) the Temples of Juno and Minerva, and over all three one artificiall Eagle spread his wings. place where that God is as present and resident, as in the heaven and starres: And therefore as com­mon Religion, and this more particular Providence obliges us, we pray thee, Jupiter theJupiter was stiled Best for his favours to Rome. Greatest for his owne power. Cicero pro domo sua. Best and Greatest, formerly theFounder of the Empire so, as they esteemed him fountaine of the Deity, and primary Cause of all things. founder, now the preserver of our Empire, that I may speake things worthy the Consul, the Senate, and the Prince; that in all I say there may ap­peare freedom, integrity, and truth; and that the thanks I give may be as far from shew or colour, as they are from the necessity of flattery. Indeed not the Consul only, but the whole State should (as I con­ceive) endeavour to say nothing of our Prince that may be applyable to another. Away therefore with those expressions which our feare extorted, let us not speake as formerly, because we suffer not as for­merly: [Page 2] nor let our publique addresses to the Prince be such as once they were, because our private whispers are not such: let the diver­sity of times be discerned in our Orations, and let the forme and manner of our thanks make it appeare to whom. For hitherto they have been directed as to aIn the second Consulship of Ʋlpius Trajan, and Glabr [...]o (saith) A Cassi ador [...], the stile Dominus et Deus, Lord and God, was assu­med by Domi­tian. God, now no place is guilty of that ser­vile blasphemy. For we are not now to speake of a Tyrant, but of a Patriot, not of aSuch a Lord as Domitian, a Lord of slaves. Lord but a Father; he esteemes himselfe one of us, and therefore transcends and excells us more, because he esteemes himselfe but one of us, no lesse remembring that he is a man, then that he is to governe men. Let us therefore understand our good, and prove our selves worthy such a governour, often revolving in our hearts, whether we should tender more ready obedience to Princes that delight in the servitude, or in the liberty of the Sub­ject. And accordingly with loud shouts the people of Rome ap­plaud the election of this Prince; with as perfect a consent, as before they calledDomitian, who under a faire outside disguised a ty­rannous Mon­ster. another handsome, they pronounce this valiant; and with the same acclamations wherewith they cryed up the voice and gesture ofNero, who sung and acted on the common Stage, both in Italy & Greece. another, they admire in this, his piety, continence, and mildnesse. What shall we our selves, (my Lords) shall we likewise celebrate (as love and joy transported us) our Prince's divinity or humanity, temperance and facility of accesse? Now, what so ci­vill, what soThe Senates decree for this surname of Best, the Peo­ples shoutes, and Trajan's teares, in this place but lightly touched are fully hand­led neare the close of the Pa­negyricke. Senatory, as that surname we give him of the best, which is made peculiar and proper to him, by the arrogance of for­mer Princes. For how just it is, that we proclaime our selves happy and him happy, thus let him do, this he must heare, as if we would not say it unlesse he would do it, so reciprocall are our votes, where­at his teares and frequent blushes spring; for he is sensible, that 'tis spoken to himselfe, not to the Prince; the measure therefore that we together kept in these shoutes, the sudden heat of piety, let us severally observe in our premeditated speeches. For we must know there is no kinde of thankes more sincere and acceptable, then to emulate those acclamations which have not time to be dissembled. For my owne part, I will labour to submit my discourse to the mo­desty and moderation of the Prince, and will no lesse consider what his eares can suffer, then what is due unto his virtue. A great and unusuall glory of a Prince, to whom being to present our thankes, I do not so much feare that he should thinke me too sparing, as too prodigall in his praises; this care, this difficulty onely interposeth. For, my Lords, 'tis easy to give thankes to a deserving man; because there is no danger that when I mention his humanity, he should sus­pect [Page 3] I taxe his pride; when I name his frugality that I meane his luxury; when his bounty, his avarice; when his goodnesse, his ma­lice; when his continence, his lust; when his labour, his sloath; when his valour, his cowardise. Nay, I do not so much as feare that I shall say too much or too little, for I observe, the Gods themselves are not so much delighted with the accurate prayers of their adorers, as with their innocence and sanctity, and do better accept of him that to their Temples brings a pure and chast minde, then a studied verse. But we must obey the Senate, which have pleased to decree for the publique good, that by the mouth of the Consul under the title of Thankes, good Princes may know what they are to do, bad what they ought to do. And this is now more solemne and necessary, because our parent hath forbidden our private, and would likewise have discharged our publique thankes, if he could have taken to himselfe a liberty of prohibiting what the Senate hath commanded. In either (The Roman Emperours had the stile of Cae­sar from Juli­us, from Octa­vius of Augu­stus or Sacred, which the Se­nate decreed him, placing in his person the veneration and priviledge of consecrated places, called l [...]ca augusta. Augustus Caesar) you have shewen your moderation, both that elswhere you would not suffer thankes, and that here you would. For this honour is not your ambition, but the action of your honourers, you give way to our desires: nor are we compelled to speake your deserts, but you to heare. My Lords, I have often in my silent meditations thought of what composition he ought to be, who at his pleasure should dispose of the Sea and Land, peace and warre; but when I formed and fancied to my selfe a Prince, I never, no not in my wishes, could conceive the like to him we now behold. Some one hath shined in warre, but gathered rust in peace; another wore his gowne with honour, but not his sword; another inforced the people to a reverence by terrour, another courted them with humility; that lost abroad the glory he had got at home; this at home what he had wonne abroad; to conclude, there hath as yet been none whose virtues were not soiled by confining upon some vice. But in our Prince how great a concord, how great a harmony of praises meets, insomuch as his severity takes off nothing from his affability, his gravity nothing from his candour, his Majesty nothing from his humanity. Now his strength and height of body, the honour of his head, the noble features of his face, adde to these thePliny fol­lowes their ac­count that make onely three divisions of the Ages of Man, to wit, Childhood, Youth, & old Age, for Tra­jan was 41, or (according to Dion) 42 when he began his Reigne. prime of his yeares, nor without the speciall bounty of the gods, theThese gray haires to his young face, al­most cost Tra­jan his life, for the Agarenes kn [...]w him in the battaile by those markes, & shot so well, as they killed the horseman next him, Dion. ensignes of age thus early spread upon his haires to increase his Majesty; do not all these limne out a Prince in fairest colours? such he ought to be whom not civill warre, not the Common-Wealth oppressed with armes, but whom peace, and adoption, and appeased heaven would [Page 4] bestow upon the earth. Was it not fit there should be a difference betwixt an Emperour, chosen by men, and one created by the Gods? whose choice of and favour to you Caesar, even when you were to go Generall to the army, appeared shining, and that in a strange manner. For other Princes had their happy presages, consulting ei­ther the over-flowing bloud of sacrifices, or theHere Sinister signifyes hap­py, for the right hand was held fortunate onely in humane things, but in Divine, the left. sinister flight of birds; but you going to yourTrajan (then a private man) before he went to the Army being at his cu­stomary devo­tions in the Ca­pitol, a sudden impulsion of spirit tooke the people without the Temple who cryed the Best, the Best, meaning Jupi­ter, but design­ing Trajan af­terward chosen in the same place, and ho­noured with the same title. accustomed devotions in the Capitol, the people though not intending it, even then saluted you their Prince, for the whole multitude that sate at the Temple-gate, being shut when you were entred, as it was then supposed, saluted the God; but, as the event taught us, you their Emperour; so all under­stood the Omen, except your selfe, for you did refuse the Empire, and it was well for us you did refuse one that would not be denyed; you therefore were to be compelled, but compelled you could not be, save onely in the threatned change of the Common-Wealth, for you were obstinate not to accept of the Empire upon any other tearmes, but to preserve it. And to that end I verily beleive that fu­ry andBy the Prae­torian muti­neers; See the occasion and carriage of that tumult in the Preface. commotion happened in the Campe, because a great vio­lence, and a great terrour was to be used to overpower your mode­sty. But as whirle-windes and tempests commend the calm­er temper of the skie, so to augment the graces of the peace, you brought, I do suppose that tumult to have ushered it. The con­dition of man hath these ebbes and flowes, that adversity may beIf it be good (saith Seneca) to know, then we must have both Prosperity and Adversity, because we cannot know the one without the other. knowne by prosperity, and prosperity by adversity; the seeds of both God so conceales, that commonly the causes of good and evill lye hidden under the contrary appearences. It was a great af­front to the age, a great wound to the State, that an Emperour the parent of mankinde should be assaulted, laid hands on, and kept pri­soner, the power taken from the good old man even of givingOf this in the Preface. pardons; the Prince deprived of that which makes it happinesse to be a Prince, to beFor Princes are lyable to no earthly power. compelled to nothing. But yet if this alone was the reason that brought you to the publique preservation, I could almost cry out, 'twas worth it. The discipline of warre was cor­rupted that you might be the reformer, the worst example was brought in, that the best might be opposed to it. Lastly, the Prince was enforced to condemne those he would have saved, that he might give us a Prince that could not be inforced. You ought long since to have been adopted, but we had not knowne how much the [Page 5] Empire is obliged to you, if you had been adopted sooner. Oppor­tunity waited for you, till it might be manifest that you had not so much received, as bestowed a benefit. The trembling State fled for sanctuary to your bosome, the shaken Empire ready to fall upon the Emperour, was by the Emperour's vote conferred on you; you were implored and sent for to your adoption, as of old, great Generals when they were called home from a forraigne warre to assist their Country; so the sonne and the father in one and the same instant shewed their highest mutuall gallantry: he gave the Empire to you, you returned it to him. You being as yet the onely man, that by receiving so great a favour hath requited it, and obliged the gi­ver; for you joyning with Caesar, as his Imperiall Adjutant, you became more troubled, he more secure. O new and unheard of way unto a throne! not your owne ends, not your owne feare, but ano­thers ends, another's feare made you a Prince. And howsoever you appeared to have attained the highest point of humane felicity, you did relinquish a farre happyer condition, ceasing to be a private man under a good Prince, being assumed to the participation of his paines and cares; nor did the cheerfull and prosperous, but the sharpe and hard times of the Empire compell you to accept it; you did receive it, when another repented him that he had received it. No tye of alliance or of friendship betwixt the Adoptour and the Adopted, but onely that both were best; the one worthy to choose, the other to be chosen. You therefore were adopted not as such, or such a one for his wives sake, not aAs Augustus, who adopted his step-sonne Tiberius step-father, but a Prince adopted you into his family; the same minde made divine Nerva to become your father, that made him father of us all: nor ought a sonne to be o­therwise assumed, that is assumed by a Prince. Were you to trans­ferre the Armyes, Provinces, and Confederates of Rome, would you choose a successour out of your wives bosome? and only look for an adoptive heire to the supreme power on earth, within the wals of your owne house? would you not cast your eyes upon the City, & esteem him your nearest Kinsman, him your dearest friend, whom you found best, and likest to the Gods? He that must be chosen to command all, ought to be chosen out of all. For you are not then to give your servants a master, that you must leave them to yourThere are in the Imperiall Law three sorts of heires. The extraneus et voluntarius, who being a stranger may accept or refuse to be heir. The Servant who is necessarius et involuntarius, for he hath not the liberty of refusing. And the sonne in po­testate patris, who is necessa­rius et suus, bound to be Heir by Law, but if he appeale to the Praetour may free him­selfe in Equity. necessary Heire. But you an Emperour are to bequeath a Prince to Rome. It were Pride and Tyranny to adopt any but one who you know must governe, if you had not adopted him. This Nerva did, conceiving no difference betwixt generation and election, if chil­dren [Page 6] should be chosen with no more judgement, then they are begot­ten; save onely that the people with more patience suffer the un­happy issue, then the ill choice of Princes. He therefore, carefully de­clined this errour, nor men onely, but even the Gods likewise, were of counsell with him; not therefore in theWhere Livia and Agrippina had wrought their second hus­bands Augustus and Claudius, to adopt their first husbands sons, Tiberius and Nero. bed-chamber, but in the Temple, not before the Geniall pillow, but before the cushion of Ju­piter the Best & Greatest was the Election past, whereon at length, not our servitude, but our liberty, and preservation, and security is founded. For the Gods challenge to themselves this glory, it was their worke, it was their command: Nerva was but their Minister, both, as well he that elected, as you that were elected shewed your obedience. ALetters of Tra­jan's victory o­ver the Panno­nians or Hungarians, it be­ing the Roman custome to stick Laurell in Pac­quets contain­ing newes of conquest, and feathers in such as mentioned overthrowes, as I have noted in the end of the 4. Sat. of Iuven. Lawrell was brought out of Pannonia, the Gods in­tending to honour the Inauguration of our invincible Emperour with a marke of his owne victory. This the Emperour Nerva stuck in Jupiters bosome, when on the suddaine, there being a greater and more reverend assembly, then usuall both of men and Gods, he assu­med you for his sonne, that is, for the support of his ruinous Empire. From thenceforth with what securitie, with what glory did he en­joy himselfe, having laid downe his Soveraignty? For what diffe­rence whether Soveraignty be laid downe, or divided, onely this is the more difficult. Then leaning as it were upon you, with your shoul­ders he supported himselfe and Rome; with your youth, with your strength, he recovered his; immediately the tumult ceased, which was not the worke of the adoption, but of the adopted; and therefore Nerva had done rashly had he pitched on any other. Do we forget, that lately after an adoption, the sedition ended not, but began? It had beene a provocation to their fury, a firebrand to the tumult, unlesse it had fallen on you. Who knowes not, that Emperour cannot give away his Empire, that hath lost his reverence. This was effected by your authority, upon whom it was bestowed. You were made a Sonne, Caesar, Emperour and Collegue of the Tribu­nitian power, all these together, which not long since a reallVespasian, who is here cal­led reall, to di­stinguish him from an adop­tive father. father conferred by parcells, only uponTitus, who only was ad­mitted by his father Vesp. (and that at se­verall times) to triumph with him, to be his Collegue in se­ven Consul­ships, his fellow Censour and Tribune, and to signe letters and edicts with his name, yet Vespasi­an had another sonne, such as he was, Domitian. one of his owne sonnes. A migh­ty argument it was of your moderation, that you did not only please when you were a successour, but when you were a sharer & compa­nion in the Empire, for you must have been his successor whether you would or not, but his companion not unlesse you pleased. Will po­sterity beleive, that one who had a Patrician, Consular, and Trium­phall [Page 7] How Trajan's father merited his Triumph & Consulship, see the Preface. father, being himselfe Generall of a strong, mighty, & affectio­nate Armie, was not by that Army created Emperour? To whom when he commanded in chiefe our German Legions, the name ofConquerour of the Ger­manes. This Inscription in Trajan's coine, Iuvenal com­memorates Sat. 6. (in the Brides first night's present) when shining in rich plate she must behold Dacian and German Caesar cut in gold. How the other stile of Dacicus was decreed him, see the preface. Germanicus was sent from hence? he doing nothing to make him­selfe Emperour, but onely that he deserved and obeyed: for (Cae­sar) you obeyed, and came to your Soveraignty by duty, you never did any thing more with the mind of a Subject, then when you became a Prince. Now you are made Caesar, now Emperour, now Germanicus in your absence without your knowledge; and af­ter all these titles in what concernes your selfe a private man: It would seeme strange if I should say, you knew not you should be an Emperour, you were an Emperour and knew it not. When the Messenger of your Fortune came, you had rather have continued what you were; but it was not in your power; ought not a Sub­ject to obey his Prince, a Lieutenant his Generall, a sonne his father? or else where were discipline, where the precedents shewed us by our Progenitors of undergoing contentedly whatsoever their Gene­rals enjoyned? What if he had commanded you from Province to Province, from warre to warre? Do you thinke he cannot use the same authority to recall you to the Empire, that he used when he sent you to the Armies? no difference, whether he command you to go forth the Emperours Lieutenant Generall, or to returne Em­perour; save onely that the glory of his obedience is the more, who does a thing against his will. It increased the authority of the Commander, that his authority had beene so dangerously disputed, and it made you moreGood sub­jects the more they see others faile in their o­bedience, the more do they their duty. inclinable to obedience; because you sawe others so averse. Besides, you heard the consent of the Senate, and the People: That election was not onely Nerva's Judgement, for, wheresoever there are men their votes concurred; he onely by the right of Princes preceded, and did that first which all were about to do; questionlesse it could not universally have pleased when it was done, if it had not pleased before. But, good Heaven! with what temper did you moderate your power and fortune? an Empe­rour in stile, effigies, and statue, but in modesty, labour, and vigilancy, a Generall, aIn every Pro­vince the Ro­manes had a Praetour or chiefe Iustice to heare and determine caus­es, and a Consul or Generall for the warre, who if he stayed the second yeare was called Pro­consul. Proconsul, a common Souldier; while even then, you lead on your colours and Eagles by a long space the formost man. Nor out of that adoption did you assume any thing more to your selfe, then the piety and obedience of a sonne, you wishing to that name a long life, a long glory. The providence of God had raised you to the first place, yet still you were contented with the second, [Page 8] and your praier was that you might therein grow old: nor did you ever thinke your selfe Emperour while the other lived. Your praiers were heard, but so farre as was consistent with the benefit of that best and Saint-like old man; whom the Gods called to Heaven, lest after that divine and immortall act, he should do any mortall businesse: for this veneration is due unto the greatest worke, that it should be the last, and the Author immediately Deifyed, that here­after posterity might inquire if he were not a God when he did it. Thus he having no better right to the title of our common Parent, then by being yours, now great in glory, great in fame, when by clear experience he had found how well the Empire sate upon your shoul­ders, he left the earth to you, and left you unto the earth; for that very reason dear & wished for by all men, because he had provided that he mightWhich un­doubtedly that good old Prince had been, un­lesse he had chosen an ex­cellent succes­sour. not be wished for. Whom as a sonne you first honoured with your teares, then with aThe deifyed Caesars had Temples dedi­cated to them, and Colledges of Priests na­med after them, of Qui­rinus, Quiri­nales, of Au­gustus, Augu­stales, of Ner­va, Nervales. The other rites of Dei­fication read in Blondius his 2 booke of Rome Trium­phant. temple, not imitating those that did the same, but with a different intention. Tiberius All that Ti­berius did, was (it seemes) thought to be done for ends, when his reli­gious offices escaped not just and probable censures. Deifyed Augu­stus, but to intaile the Majesty of godhead upon the Crowne. Ne­ro Deifyed Claudius, but toWitnesse Se­neca's [...], [Clau­dius his ridiculous Deification or purging to Heaven by a poisoned Mushrom] written no doubt to please his Pupill Nero. laugh at him; Titus Who expected it, his words (when he thought he should dye) being these, Vt puto Deus fio. I think I am turning God, Suetonius. Vespasian, Domi­tian Titus, but that to appeare the sonne, andDomitian who after h [...]s brothers death deifyed him that he himself might in his life-time be worshipped as a Deity. this the brother to a God. You have inserted your father among the starres, not to beget feare in men, not to put an affront upon the Gods, not to honour your selfe; but because you beleived him to be a Deity. It takes off from such an act, when it is done by those that thinke themselves are Gods. But although you have consecrated to him Altars, Cushions, Carpets, and aA Priest, named Flamen of his Miter or Tiara, which in old Latine was called Flama. Flamen, you have not made or proved him a God in any thing so much, as that you your selfe are like him; for in a Prince that dyes when he hath chosen one to succeed him, the onely and assured faith of his Divinitie is a good successour. But hath this immortality in your father bred any arrogance in you? do you imi­tate the late sloathfull and proud kinsmen to Divinity? or do you e­mulate the Ancients that founded this Empire, which our foes have lately invaded and scorned? of whose overthrow and flight, we have had no other proofes, but meerly theDomitian, under the name of conquer'd enemies, triumphed for his owne army lost in Daeia. Orosius. sight of triumphes: therefore they have got spirit and shooke off their yoke; nor did they now contend with us for their owne liberty, but for our servi­tude; [Page 9] not so much as admitting of a truce, but upon equall tearmes, and gave whereas they should receive the law. But now all return to their feare and terrour, and desire of obeying; for they now behold a RomanTrajan. Generall of the old straine, one of those that gained theImperator an­ciently signify­ed a Generall, or one that com­manded in Chiefe. Imperiall title by fields covered with slaughter, and seas stained with victories; therefore we receive hostages, we do not buy them; nor with infinite losse and excessive presents do we make our peace. As if we had already conquered them, they petition they supplicate, we grant, we deny; both proceeding from the Majesty of the Em­pire; they give thankes if their suits be granted, nor dare they if denyed complaine: for how should they dare, that know you have curbed a hardyThe Germans. people in a season most favourable to them, most insufferable to us, when the river ofKnown like­wise by the name of Ister, and in old time called Mato [...]s. Danubius made a bridge be­twixt his bankes, and being frozen over bore upon his backe a mighty warre: when that fierce Nation was not more armed with their darts, then with their aire and climate. But at our approaches as if the season had been changed, they kept within their holes and caves, and our partyes marched along the bankes, and would you have permitted us to make use of their advantages, we had with joy turned upon the Barbarians their owne winter. You were in this veneration with your enemies, what with your Souldiers? what ad­miration did you gaine, and how? when with you they were a hun­grie; with you they suffered thirst; when in the very excercising of your Troopes you mingled the Generals dust and sweat with theirs, differing from the rest in nothing, but in excellency of strength and spirit, freely charging, and receiving the charge: now shaking your pile in a close encounter; now standing while another darted his, encouraging the valour of your men, and rejoycing when they strucke the heaviest blowes upon your sheild or helmet. For your selfe commended the bold charger, and praised him into farther boldnesse; and what did they not dare, when they had you for a spe­ctatour and judge of their first skirmishes; you viewing if their armes were fixed, weighing their darts, & if any thought his pile too heavy, throwing it your self? What! when you comforted the weary, and releived the hurt? it was never your fashion to enter your own pavilion till you had visited your fellow-Souldiers tents, nor to take repose, but last of all. Nor should I so admire our Generall, if he had been such among theThese fami­lies (the Fa­bricij, Scipio's & Camilli) were not more famed for valour, then formoderation, being in all their conquests onely inriched with honour. Fabricij, the Scipio's, or Camilli, for then it had been the heat of imitation, and happily some one better then himself might have inflamed him. But after the profession of armes [Page 10] was fallen from the hand to the eye, from labour to pleasure; when we had toThe Romans were first taught to use their armes by P. Rutilius the Consul. traine and exercise us no Veteran, [no old Roman Soul­dier] that had wonne theThe Morall Crowne was bestowed on him that first scaled the wals, and therefore resembled bat­tlements. Murall or theThe Civicke or Oaken Crowne, was given by the Generall to him that rescu­ed a Citizen of Rome, so its here under­stood; but in processe of time it was likewise given by the Soul­diers to the Generall, if he spared a Citi­zens life when it was forfeited by Martial Law. Civick honour, but a pret­ty fineThe Greekes ('tis Plutarch's note) studied the arts of fen­cing and wrast­ling so long, till they lost their Country. And now those wits live upon the little Gambers, that ruin'd them. Read the Cha­racter of a hungry Greeke, Juvenal. Sat. 3. Greeke-Master, how strange it is now, to see one of all de­lighting in the manners of his Country, and without a rivall or ex­ample, striving and contending with himselfe; and as he reignes alone, so he alone to deserve to reigne! Were not you (Caesar) bred up to these gloryes from your infancy? while yet a youth, adding your Parthian lawrell to your fathers honours, you even then me­rited the title of Germanicus? when the borderers informing you of the Parthian in roads, you quenched their pride & cruelty with a migh­ty terrour, joyning in admiration of you the rivers ofA river that runs through Cappadocia, Mesopotamia, Assyria, and the midst of Babylon. Tigris, this, and Ganges are the noblest rivers of Asia. Euphrates, & theThe famous river that parts Germany from Belgia, and after a course of 300 miles, fals into the Mose and the German Ocean. Rhene; yet then, you never marched so farre in Person, as in fame, appearing still greater, and more glorious in your last quar­ters. Yet hitherto you were not Emperour, hitherto not sonne unto a God: and though Germany is guarded with a multitude of diffe­rent people, made defensible by nature with infinite spaces of desert earth, bulwark'd with theThe Alpes divide Germany and France from Italy; the Pyrenaan moun­taines, Spaine from France. Alpes, and Pyrenaean mountaines, and diverse other mighty hils, if not compared to these. Yet when through all this tract you lead your Army or rather (such was your swiftnes) transported it, you never so much as called for your Coach or Horse, which was a hunting nagge and followed after, not for use, but ornament; for you had no service for him, unlesse upon a Stative day [when you had pitched your battaile] you made it your recreation to gallop over the adjacent fields. Shall I wonder at the beginning of your industry, or the end? 'tis much you should per­severe, but more that you never fear'd, you were not able to perse­vere. Nor do I doubt but thatDomitian. he (who commanded you his best protection) then as farre off as Spaine, to undertake the German warre, he being a sloathfull Generall, and envying others virtues, which himselfe had use of, conceived as great an admiration of you, not without some feare; as once thatHercules, son to Jupiter and Alcmena, whom the tyrant Erystheus enjoyned those 12 labours that instead of destroying him (as they were intended) immor­talised his name, now given as a title of honour to the indefatigable Conquerour. sonne of Jupiter having per­formed his labours strucke into his Prince, when after all his hard commands he still returned victorious, and unwearyed: while you [Page 11] being put upon one expedition after another were still found wor­thy of new imployment, When you were a Tribune in your tender yeares, you marched through many severall Countryes, with the vigour of a man, fortune even then inspiring you to know by de­grees, what you should command at once. You not contenting your selfe to view the Campe at distance, as with a prospective-glasse, and to slubber over a short warre, but performing the office ofA M [...]litary Tribune, whose office was an­swerable to that of our Ser­jeant Major Generall. a Tribune, that you might immediately deserve to be a Generall; and that you might have nothing to learne at the time wherein you should be called to teach. By tenne [annuall]This Pay cal­led stipends, the Souldiers had either half-yearly, or (as in this place) yearely. stipends you knewe the manners of people, situations of Countries, opportunities of places; and by your patience made the diverse tempers of their water and ayre as familiar to your body, as your owne Country springs, as your owne Country climate. How often [as publique presents to your merit] have you changed your victorious horse and armes? the time shall come therefore that posterity shall go themselves, and take their sonnes along with them, to see what field hath drunke your sweat, what tree hath canopyed your meat, what caves have beene your bed-chamber; lastly, what house hath entertayned so great a guest, as then in many places you your selfe were shewed the sacred steppes of mighty Generals. But this was long ago, now, he is accounted an old Souldier, that hath been your fellow Souldier. For where is he, whose fellow Souldier you were not, before you were his Generall? This is the reason why you call almost all your Army by their names: that you your selfe are the Chronicle of every private Souldiers valiant acts; no one can shew you a wound received for his Country, to which you were not a wit­nesse, and a praiser when 'twas made. But your moderation is rather to be insisted on, that you being bred to warres, do yet love peace. Nor do you (because you had a triumphall father, or because your owne lawrell was consecrated to Jupiter Capitoline on the day of your adoption) on all occasions therefore seeke for triumphes; you feare not the war, nor provoke it. 'Tis a mighty matter, (most dread Emperour) a mighty matter to stand upon the banke of Danubius, if you passe, certaine of triumph, yet not ambitious to force them to battaile that decline it; the one whereof is the act of valour, the other of moderation; for your moderation was the cause that you would not fight; your valour that theDecebalus King of Dacia, of whom in the Preface. enemy would not: neither did any thing but the contempt of the Empire ever make us con­querours. The Capitol therefore shall receive no counterfeit Cha­riots, [Page 12] no falseAs those Sta­tues (in the Preface) which for a false-na­med Victory over Decebalus were decreed to Domitian, who made show of triumph after his returne to Rome, but (as Dion notes) the people said he celebrated the funerals of his Army lost in Dacia. pictures of victory, but shall be filled (our Empe­rour bringing home true and solid glory) with peace, and the ac­knowledged homage of our foes, so, as there will be no one to be conquered: this is beyond all triumphes. But if someMeaning Decebalus. Barbarous Prince shall grow to that insolence and madnesse as to merit your indignation. Let him be sure whether he be defenced with vast ri­vers, or mountainous precipices; he shall finde all these as submisse, and yeilding to your virtues, as if the rivers wereThis may seeme high Hy­perbole and meer speculati­on at first sight, but it was glo­riously reduced into act by Trajan's mira­culous bridge over Danubius, as in the Pre­face. drained, the mountaines levelled, the sea it selfe swallowed up, and our fleet not landed, but our land it selfe brought over to him. Me-thinkes I now behold a triumph not heavy laden with the spoiles of Pro­vinces, or gold extorted from our Confederates, and allyes; but with hostile armes, and chaines of captive Princes. Me-thinkes I heare our men running over alowd the high and mighty names of Generals, and pointing to the bodyes sutable to those names. Me­thinkes while with their hands bound they passe on foot, you fol­low in your chariot, as treading on the neckes of conquered nations, and before you the sheilds, which you your selfe have pierced. Nor shall you want the spoilesThe Spolia O­pima [the Con­quered Gene­rals Armes] were still by the Conquerour dedicated to Jupiter Fere­trius. Jove the striker, because it was beleived that without Jupiters special assistance, one Generall could not hit another. Opime, [such as one Ge­nerall wins that takes another] if there be a Prince that dares con­tend. Nor shall the casting of your darts alone, but of your eyes and frownes, make all the field, and the enemies whole Army tremble. You have deserved by your late moderation, that when­soever the dignity of the Empire forceth you either to invade or to repell an enemy, that it should not be thought you conquer, that you might triumph, but that you triumph because you have conquered. One thing mindes me of another; how noble a worke it is that you have revived the decayed and extinguished discipline of warre, curing the Evill of the former age, sloath and contuma­cy, and the scorne of obeying. 'Tis safe to merit reverence; 'tis safe to merit love: nor is he a Generall that feares not to be be­loved, or that feares to be beloved; and so alike secure of hate and love they view the workes, are present when the Souldiers exer­cise, they fixe the armes, the wals and men. For he is no Prince that thinkes those stratagems designed against himselfe, that are prepared against his enemies; which was a perswasion of theirs, that doing of hostile acts, feared the like measure. In that time, therefore not onely the military profession and mens spirits langui­shed, but their bodyes too, swords were dulled, their edge taken off with neglect; while our Generals feared not so much the strata­gems [Page 13] of forraigne Kings, as of their owne Princes; nor their e­nemies hands and swords so much, as their owne fellow Souldiers. It is the nature of the Starres, that the small and meaner are obscure when the great ones rise; so by an Emperours presence, the honour of his Lieutenants is eclypsed; but you were indeed greater then all, but without diminution to any: every one retayned the same authority when you were present, as when you were absent; nay, many respected them more, because you did respect them. Thus therefore you indeared your selfe to the highest, and the lowest, thus you made your selfe a mixt person, a Generall, and a common Souldier: so as you both tooke an account of their exercises, and labours, as a Commander, and a Censour; & as a fellow and compa­nion releived them. Happy are they whose fidelity and industry is knowne not by messengers, and interpreters, but by your selfe; nor with your eares, but with your eyes: and that have gained this further favour, that when you are absent, you will beleive no censure of an absent Souldier sooner then your owne. Now the de­sires of Rome recalled you, and your love unto your Souldiers was vanquished with the love you bare your Country. Your journey from the warre was calme and modest, as if you had returned from a well setled peace. Nor indeed will I insert among your praises, that no father, no husband feared your comming: others have af­fected chastity, in you it was inbred and naturall, and so to be num­bred with those virtues you cannot stile your owne. No tumult in exacting for your carriages; no nicetie in taking up your lodgings, such yours as others diet; to this, your march was so quicke, and so free a progresse, as one would thinke it to be some great Generall (and especially your selfe) going to the army. Such little or no difference was betwixt our Emperour before, and after his creation. How unlike to this was lately the march ofDomitian. another Prince (if it was a march, not a designe of spoile and desolation) when he dis­possessed the owners of their houses, burned downe, and laid wast all on the right hand, and on the left, as if some enemy had fallen upon us; or those veryThe Ger­manes, Dacians, or Sarmatians, who had all foyled Domi­tian. Barbarians from whom he fled? the Pro­vinces ought to have beene perswaded that that was Domitians, not the Prince's Journey. And therefore not for your owne glory, but for the publique benefit you commanded that your edict should ex­actly particularise the expences both of his and your owne German expedition. Let an Emperour accustome himselfe to reckon with his Empire, so let him go forth, and so returne, as if he were to [Page 14] give in his accounts, let him cast up what he hath spent; so he shall never spend what he may be ashamed to speake of. Besides, thereby succeeding Princes whether they will or no shall under­stand, thus much it will cost them: and two examples being pro­posed, they shall remember that men will accordingly conjecture of their disposition, as they shall choose this, or that. For these, so many and so great merits did you deserve no new honours, no new titles? nay, you refused the name of Father of your Country; what a long combate had we with your modesty? how slowly did we overcome? that name which others instantly upon their Coro­nation day, received as they did that of Emperour and Caesar, you put off so long, till you your selfe, the severest Iudge of your owne merit, could not but confesse that you deserved it. And therefore of all, it was your onely fortune, to be the Father of your Country, before you were so declared. For, you were so in our hearts, in our judgements: nor would the publique piety have stood upon the name, unlesse to our selves we should have appeared ingratefull, to call you rather Emperour and Caesar, when we had by experience found you to be a Father. Which appellation, with what bounty, with what favour do you exercise! That you live with your people as a Father with his Children! That returning our Emperour, you carry your selfe towards us, we behave our selves towards you, as if you were that private person you went forth! you still thinke both your selfe and us the same; you being such as we are all, onely by so much greater then others, by how much better. And in the first place, what a day it was, how long wished for, and expected, when you made your entrance to the City! Nay, the very manner of your entrance, how rare and pleasing! For, whereas former Princes used to be brought and carried in, I do not say in their Cha­riots, drawen with foure milke-white steeds, but which is more ar­rogant, on mens shoulders; You onely more conspicuous, and more exalted then others by your height of bodie, did not make your triumph over our patience, but over the pride of Princes. There­fore no age, no infirmity, no sexe retarded any from feasting their eyes with so unusuall a sight. The little Children were brought forth to see you, the young men gloried in you, the old men admi­red you; even the sicke neglecting the commands of their Physiti­ans crept into your sight. as if that were their health. Some said they had lived long enough now they had beheld you and waited upon you; others said, that now was the best time of living. The [Page 15] very women then tooke the greatest joy in being Mothers, when they saw to what a Prince they had bred Subjects, to what a Gene­rall they had brought forth Souldiers. One might see roofes of hous­es loaded, and labouring with the weight of people; not so much as that place vacant, where the adventrous stander seemed to fall; the streets all over-crowded, onely a narrow passage left for you: the multitudes of both sides cheerfull, every where like joy, like accla­mations. The rejoycing at your comming (being in all men as e­quall, as your carriage towards all) grew still more as you came on, and increased almost at every steppe. It pleased all Rome that you re­turned that kisse unto the Senate, which they gave to you at parting; it pleased, that the Roman Knights received a greater honour then their order, while you saluted them by their names without a re­membrancer. It pleased, that you would not onely take notice of yourRetainers to Trajan as a pri­vate man; for Clients were dependent on the Nobility their Patrons, who were bound in ho­nour to protect them, as Cli­ents were in duty and on paine of death to be faithfull to their Pa­trons. Clients, but added certaine markes of familiarity. But it plea­sed most, that the people likewise were suffered to come near, nay e­ven to come close to you, that the very first day you trusted your person to us all: you were not inclosed with your guard, but free and open for the whole towne to flow about you; now the Senate, now the order of Knights, according as either made the frequencie of their addresses. Your Lictours followed silent and quiet; as for your Souldiers, they differed not at all from the people in habite, civilitie, or modestie. But when you came to ascend the Capitol, how com­fortable to all was the remembrance of your adoption, and what a particular joy to them who in that place had first saluted you Empe­rour. Nay, I beleive, the very God himselfe tooke an especiall plea­sure in beholding his owne worke, but when you stood in the same place where your father did when he published that great secret of the Gods, how the assembly exulted through all the temple! how were the old acclamations revived? how like was that day unto the day that did beget it? how like were the Altars to themselves exal­ted with Sacrifices for him upon whose health and safety ours de­pends, all knowing they pray for themselves and their children, when they pray for you! Thence you went indeed to your Palace; but with that looke, but with that moderation, as if you had reti­red into your private house, the rest to their dwellings, every one there iterating the truest testimony of his joy, by rejoycing without witnesses. Some Prince had beene undone by such an entrance, but you daily grew more admirable, more worthy. Such, in a word, you are, as other Princes onely promise they will be; you therefore [Page 16] are the onely Emperour whom length of time commends and addes unto you, joyning & incorporating two formerly inconsistent things, the securitie of a Governour, and the modesty of a beginner; you do not cast downe the imbraces of your subjects to your feet, nor suffer them to kisse your hand; our Emperour hath the same Civili­tie he had; he did use to go on foot, he goes so still: he did rejoice in labour, so he doth. Fortune hath changed all about you, but hath not changed your self. Tis free for every man when the Prince walkes abroad, to stand, to meet, to waite upon him, to passe by him; you come not by chance among us, and make your selfe familiar with us to upbraid us with it. Every one hath accesse unto your person; and his owne modesty, not your pride, puts an end to his discourse. We are indeed govern'd by you, and subject to you, but as we are unto the Lawes, for they regulate our wils and inordinate desires, yet they converse with us, and remaine among us. You are eminent and do excell, as honour and authority, which are indeed above men, yet to men they appertaine. Formerly Princes in scorne of us, and out of a certaine feare of equality had lost the use of their legs, these therefore their servants neckes and shoulders carried over our heads: but you fame, glorie, and the piety of your subjects raiseth above those Princes; the earth lifts up you to heaven, so inter­mingled are our Prince's steppes with ours. Nor do I feare (my Lords) that you will thinke I speake too long, since it is cheifly to be desired that the things for which thankes are given to a Prince should be many, which I might with more reverence leave untou­ched and intire to your memories, then passe them over slightly and abruptly; because it often happens, that onely what we conceale is thought to appeare in its just proportions. Unlesse you please to give me leave to touch briefly his inriching of the Tribes, giving the people theirCongiary (a word derived from the mea­sure Congius that held about a gallon and a Pynt) was properly the bounty of the Roman Empe­rours to the people, as Do­native was their Imperiall munifience to the Souldier. Congiary, and that whole, when the Souldiers re­ceived but part of their Donative. Is it an argument of a common spirit to preferre them in his bounty, whom he might safer have de­nied? yet even in the making of this difference, the rule of pro­portion was observed, for the Souldiers were equalled to the peo­ple by receiving a part, but first; the people to the Souldiers by com­ming in the second place, but receiving all at once. Nay, how bountifully was it distributed? how carefull were you that none should go without your bounty? It was given to those it was not promised to, they being put in since your Edict in the place of names crossed out. Some were detained with buisinesse, others with sicke­nesse, [Page 17] he was at Sea, this upon the river, it was laid up for them, and provided, that no one should be sick, no one imployed, no one absent, let every one come when he would, come when he could. Caesar, it was magnificent and your owne, as it were to bring together farre distant Countries with a miracle of bounty, to contract vast spaces with your munificence, to prevent chance, to way-lay fortune, & by your power to make it so, that none of the Commons, when you gave your Congiary, should be more sensible of his being a man, then of his being a denizon of Rome. Upon the Congiary day it was for­merly the custome for swarmes of Infants, the future people, to at­tend the Prince comming abroad, the Parents tooke great paines to shew him their little ones, to set them upon their shoulders, and to teach them words of soft and flattering Courtship, the children spake as they were prompted, and many times gabled to the deafe eares of the Prince with fruitlesse praiers; neither knowing what they beg­ged, nor what they had not obtained, till they grew so old as to un­derstand their wants. You did not so much as stay to be petitioned, and though it was a most delightfull object to have the Roman off-spring in your eie, yet before they saw you, or came into your pre­sence, you commanded they should all be taken notice of, and their names enrolled, that from their very infancie they might have ex­perience of your being their publique parent by their education: you would have them bred at your owne charges, that were bred for your owne service, and so brought by your pension to your pay: and that they might all owe as much to you, as every one doth to his particular parent. You doe wisely. Caesar, to beat the charges of perpetuating the Roman name, for there is no kind of expense more worthy a Prince, and that will more eternise his memory, then what is laid out upon posteritie. To breed up their children the rich are encouraged byTacitus l. 15. Fathers [in the Nobility and Gentry] had right to stand for Magistra­cies, to cast lo [...]s for Provinces, to be heires by Will, being (saies Juvenal Sat. 9) capable of all, whether pure Legacies, or conditionall. These privile­ges Bachelours wanted, and withall were fined for their contempt of Marriage. The Law de mari­tandis ordinibus was prefer [...]'d by Q. Metellus, revived by Aug. Caesar. great rewards and equall punishments, but the poore to take care for theirs have onely one reason, a good Prince. Now children borne for his service, unlesse with a munificent hand he cherish, feed, and embrace them, he hastens the sun-set of the Empire, the sun-set of the State; in vain a Prince neglecting the Com­munalty, like a head to a defective body, maintaines a bulke stagger­ing with an unballanced weight. 'Tis easie to suppose what joy you tooke, when the shouts of parents and children, old men and in­fants entertained you. The first words that were ever spoken by your little subjects saluted your eare, on whom, when you bestowed their education, you made your bountie greater, by not suffering them to [Page 18] aske. But 'tis beyond all your goodnesses, that you your self are such, that to breed up their children under you they delight, nay they hold it necessary; no parents now feare their children, unlesse they feare nature, and the accidents of humane frailty; nor among incurable diseases is the Princes displeasure numbred. It is indeed a great en­couragement to educate children in hope of alimonie, in hope of Congiary, but 'tis a greater to breede them in hope of liberty, in hope of security. And therfore let the Prince giue nothing, so he take away nothing; let him not maintaine, so he will not destroy, yet we shall not want those that will covet to have issue. Contrarily, let him give andAs Domitian. whose very fea­stings (as in his Character in the Preface) were defrayed with bloody confiscations. take away, maintaine and destroy, truely in a short time he will cause all to repent not only their childrens but their own be­ing and their parents. Therefore in all your Bounty I commend no­thing more, then that you bestow the Congiarie out of your owne, the Alimonie out of your owne, not feeding your Subjects (as wilde beasts their young ones) with blood and slaughter, and which is most welcome to the receivers, they know what is given to them, is not forced from any, and for the inriching of so many, no one is made poorer, but the Prince alone; yet not hee neither, for hee who hath what all have, hee himselfe hath as much as all. Your numerous glo­ry calleth me another way. another way? as how? Have I then suffi­ciently admired and honoured your bestowing so much mony, not that conscious of a crime you might stop the mouth of fame from following it against you, nor to divert mens black and sad discourses by offering them more comfortable matter; you redeemed no offence with your Congiary, noAs Nero (after poysoning Germanicus & the murthering of his mother Agrippina) who distributed money, set forth showes, & gave rich presents to particular men. Tacitus. Dion. cruelty with your Alimony; neither was it the cause of your well doing, that what you had done ill might passe uncensured; with all these summes it was love, not favor that you purchased, and the people of Rome departed from your Tribunall, obliged not appensed; You offered your Congiary, joyfull to the joy­full, secure to the secure, and what other Princes cast before the peo­ples swelling spirits, to take off their odium, you gave the people with as innocent a heart as they received it. My Lords, little lesse then five thousand free-borne Romans were those whom the bounty of our Prince sought out, found, and enrolled. These, the strength of warre, the ornament of peace, are educated at his publique charge, and learne to love their Country, not as their Country, but their Nurse. Out of these our armies are recruited, our tribes replenished, out of these in time will spring such as shall have no neede of Alimo­ny. The Gods give you Caesar the long life you merit, and keepe you [Page 19] in that minde, which they have given you, and the greater you see the bead role of the Infants growen ever when you reade it (for it swels and increases daily, not because children are dearer to parents, but Subjects to the Prince) give them Congiaries if you please, howsoever they are borne to serve you. As a perpetuall Congiarie I esteeme the affluence of corne, the care whereof long since added no lesse glory toWho to fur­nish Rome in a dearth, sayled to Sicily, Sar­dinia and Afri­ca, & returning wi h plenty, when the Pylot durst not put to Sea the storme was so terrible, Pompey him­selfe went first aboard, cōman­ded them to weigh Anchor, & cryed. Tis necessary to sayle, not necessary to live Plut. in vi­ta Pompeij. Pompey, than his banishing ambition from theCampus Mar­tiu [...] the Fields wherin Electiō of Magistrates was made wher Pompey would not suffer the sale of Offices. fields, beating the enemy from the Sea, and purging theWhere hee fi­nished the war, subduing Domitius Jarbus and all Africa in 40 dayes, for which Sylla sur­named him the Great: And for the West, he conquered He­rennius Perpen­na and Serto­rius in Spaine. East and West by Tryumphs. Nor indeed did he more civilly and humanely, then our parent by his authority, counsell and trust, open the wayes, cleare the ports, restore the traveller to the high way, the Sea to the shore, and shore unto the Sea, so intermingling nations by commerce, as what sprung any where, seemed to spring every where. Do we not evidently see that without injury to any, every yeare plentifully con­tributes to our uses; because we rob not our freinds, as if they were the enemy, of their greene and perishing harvest, they bring to our granaries what their soile beares, what their starre ripens, what the yeare affords; nor pressed with new taxes doe they faile in their old tribute. The publique Treasury buyes what it seemes to buy, from hence plenty, from hence provisions of corne, the buyer and seller agreeing upon a price, from hence satiety here, famine no where. Aegypt so gloried in cherishing and multiplying seed, as if it were not at all indebted to the rayne or heaven, being alwaies watered with her owneNilus [...]h [...] Ri­ver that waters Aegypt like a garden, and is worshipped as a God by the Ae­gyptians. river nor fatned with any other kind of water, but what was powred forth by the earth it selfe, yet was it cloathed with so much corne that it might (and as it were eternally) vie harvests with the fruitfullest soyles of the whole world. This very Countrey with unexpected drought withered even to barren­nesse, because dull Nilus rose slowly and languishingly from his channel, he himselfe being then to bee compared with other mighty rivers, so that a great part of the land accustomed to lie coole and o­verflowed, was parched into deepe sands. In vaine then Aegypt wished for floods, & lifted up their eyes to heaven, when the author of their fecunditie, Nilus, being lessened and contracted, had brought their plenty into as narrow a compasse, as his owne aboun­dance. Nor did that vast overflowing river so much as keepe within his constantly usurped bounds, but from his levell and detaining bor­der stole away like a fugitive with a soft and gentle ebbe, not moist­ning so much ground as would maintaine the scorched land. The people therefore being defrauded of their inundation, that is, of their [Page 20] fertility, so implored Caesars helpe, and invocated him, as they use to doe their river, nor were they longer oppressed with their misfor­tunes, then till such time as they could signifie them. So swift, Cae­sar, is your power, and your goodnesse upon all occasions so intent and ready, that if your times have any sadder accident, for the reco­very and cure, it is enough to let you know it. Truely to all nations I wish plenteous yeares, and gratefull earth, yet I must beleeve, that fortune by putting Aegypt into this condition, did it only that she might see a proofe of your power and vigilance: For though you deserve to be fortunate every where, yet is't not manifest, that each sadder chance doth but offer new matter and field-roome to your virtues? since prosperity declares man happy, adversity great. It was (time out of minde) a generally received opinion, that Rome without the wealth of Aegypt could not eate and subsist, which made that windy and insolent nation boast, that yet they fed the conquerors of the World, and that in their hands lay our abundance, or our want. We have poured back upon Nile its own provisions, it hath received the corne it sent, and exported the harvests it brought in. Let Aegypt therefore learne and experimentally believe that she affords us not sustenance, but tribute, and know that she is to the people of Rome not necessary, yet a servant. Hereafter let Ni­lus if he please love his channell and keepe within his banks, 'tis no­thing to Rome, scarce to Aegypt; only that from thence their ships will lanch out empty and unladed, as if they were returning, and goe from hence with their full fraight and burden, as they use to come. And the Sea having changed the copy of both our wishes, they may now pray for speedy windes and a short voyage hence. Cae­sar, it had been a miracle should not the sloath of Aegypt, and the ful­lennesse of Nile have had their influence upon the provisions of this City, which by your helpe and your care, hath abounded in that measure, as proved at once, we could want Aegypt, Aegypt could not want us. There had beene an end of that most fruitfull nation, if it had beene unconquered; they were ashamed of their unaccustomed dearth, nor lesse ashamed of hunger that tormented them, when you together stopped both their necessity and blushes. Their husband­men, that saw the barnes full of corne without their inning, won­dred from what ground that harvest came, and in what part of Ae­gypt there was another Nile. Thus your bounty tooke away the ma­lignity of their soyle, and Nile that formerly was serviceable to Ae­gypt, never flowed higher to our glory. How happy it is now for all [Page 21] Provinces, that they are come into our subjection and allegiance, since the world hath got a Prince, that now hither, now thither (as time and necessity requires) can passe and returne plenty! that could feede and maintaine a nation severed from us by the Ocean, as if it had beene part of the people of Rome. And while heaven is never so benigne, to cherish and make fruitfull in one yeare all soyles, but if not barrennesse it selfe, at least the evill of barrennesse aflicts them, he importeth, if not plenty it selfe, at least the good of plenty; hee with eternall intercourse ties the East unto the West, that what growes any where, and is elsewhere desired, all nations together may enjoy, learning thereby, how much one Master is to be prefer­red before discordant liberty. For whereas in Countries where the good is severed, the evills are their owne, being mixed and associa­ted, particular evills belong to no particular, but all good to all. But whether there be a certaine divinity in their earth, or a Genius in their water, I hope that both their soyle and river contented with this bounty of our Prince, will hide our seedes in a soft bosome, and restore them multiplyed; not that we demand interest, yet let them thinke themselves bound to pay it; and let the defrauded expectati­on of one yeare, for all future yeares and ages excuse it selfe, so much the more because we exact it not. The necessity of your subjects and allies being provided for, you make us spectators of no weake, no idleTrajan set forth showes that continued 123 dayes, wherein some­times were slain 1000 beastes wilde & tame, sometimes ten thousand; like­wise ten thou­sand Gladiators fought together Dion. Shew, that may effeminate mens mindes; but such as may beget a love of handsome wounds, and a contempt of death, when they behold a desire of prayse and ambition of victory, even in the bodies of slaves and men condemned to die. In setting forth this Show, how great your bounty, and your justice, eyther untouched, or above the power of passion! We obtayned what we asked, nay that was offered us we asked not, and he himselfe was earnest with us to pre­ferre our desires, but so likewise we had many sudden and unexpe­cted sights. Then how free was the beholders liking! how secure their favor! no impiety, as formerly objected unto any that he hated a sword-player, no spectator made aMade a Besti­arius, so they called them that fought with wilde beasts; or for­ced to be a Gla­diator, as Pro­culus, whom they say, be­cause he was very handsome, C. Caligula cō ­manded him to bee taken from the sword-play which hee sate beholding, and compelled him 'th lists, first to fight with a Thracian, then with one ar­med at all pee­ces, and Procu­lus having con­quered both, Domitian made him be stript, bound, put into rags, shewed to the Ladies and then executed. spectacle, payed for his mise­rable pleasure, dragged by the hooke unto the fier.Domitian. Hee was a mad man and ignorant of true honour that gathered up high treason from the sand within the lists, interpreting that his Deity was despised and contemned, unlesse we adored his gladiators, and that malig­nants in them blasphemed his power and divinity; accounting him­selfe the same with the Gods, and his gladiators the same with him­selfe. But you, Caesar, how faire a shew have you made us in stead of [Page 22] that execrable one? We see judgement passed upon informers, such as upon out-lawes, such as upon theeves. They lately were scatte­red, not inAs in Juv. Sat. 4. For such a Turbut who durst sell or buy, So many Inquisitors and Informers nigh. These Sea­weeds scatte­red on the shore. unfrequented places, but in theThe Temple of Saturne, thought the fit­test place for the publique Treasury, sayes Alex. Neop. because Saturn first invented brazen money, but with relati­on to the in e­grity of the Golden Age when Saturne reigned▪ sayth Plutarch. Temple and the Courts of justice, then no Testament would stand good, no condition be se­cure, neither the childlesse nor the parent. The avarice of Princes added to this evill, you tooke notice of it, and as before to the Feilds, so you now restored peace to theThe Forum Romanum con­taining the Temple of Sa­turne with the Comitium or Justice-hall, the Rostra or pulpits for Oration, &c. Forum; you cut off this civill gangrene, and by provident severity tooke order that the Citie esta­blished by law, should not by Law be ruin'd. Notwithstanding ther­fore that aswell your fortune as your bounty hath bestowed, and still bestowes upon us, now mighty bodies of men with equall spirits, now the hugenesse of wilde beasts, now their tamenesse never known before, now thoseHoorded by Domitian, bestowed on the publique and upon the Gods, by Trajan. Martial. l. 12. What in th' Atcadian Palace shin'd, is to our eyes and Gods assign'd. And now with Jove we all are blest, But late, alas when 'tis confest, Into our cheekes 'twill blushes call. We with poore Jove were beggers all. hidden and secret treasures, first under you made publique, yet nothing is more pleasing to us, nothing more worthy of the age, then what is added to these shews, the sight of Informers dragged through the streets with supine faces, and necks wryed a­bout, we saw and joyed, when (as Sacrifices to expiate the solitude they had caused) they were drawne along with slowe and grieuous tortures: They were crowded aboard ships, pressed upon the suddain and delivered over to the Tempests, that should send them away and tosse them from the continent, wasted and made desolate by their in­formations; and if the stormes and billowes should reserve any for the rocks, he should inhabit the naked stones, and the inhospitable shore, and live hardly and painfully, tormented with the remem­brance of his being put out of the common protection of mankinde. A memorable sight, the Informers fleete, exposed to all windes, constreined to spread their sayles to embrace Tempests, and to goe along with the angry waves till they dashed them on a Rock. Oh twas a gallant prospect, from the Port, to see that navy scattered, and in the very Sea thanking the Prince, that preserving his clemencie, had commended the revenge of the earth & men unto the sea-gods. How much diversitie of times could doe, is now especially known, when to the sameIn the Islands of the Cyclades, to which the Roman Emperors banished many noble persons, Juv. Sat. 13. Or to the Aegaean rocks that en­tertaine great exiles. Rocks where formerly every innocent person, now only the guilty are confined, and all those desert Islands which late were filled with Senators are now planted with Informers, [Page 23] which you have not only taken away for the present, but suppressed for ever, making them lyable to a thousand penalties. Doe any goe about to cheate others of their money? they must lose their owne. would they out us from our houses? they must from theirs be outed. Nor (as formerly) doe they hold forth that bloodlesse and brazen forehead to bee marked with a coldPointing to the act of Do­mitian, who grievously pu­ished the Infor­mers of the Chequer, but incouraged thē notwithstand­ing. iron, laughing, and never hurt when they are stigmatized; but they see dammages paid answereable to the gayn that was expected, so, as they cannot have greater hopes then terrors, nor bee feared more then they feare. With a noble soule did the divine Titus looke upon our security and revenge; and we therefore deified him, but how much more (a long time hence) will you be worthy heaven, that have added so many things to those for which we have made him a God? and it was so much the harder, because the EmperorWho banished Informers from the City. Dion. Nerva (most worthy to have you for his son, you for his successor) by making so many superstructures to Titus his Edict against Informers, seem'd to leave nothing for you to doe, who have so much enlarged it, as if nothing had been done before. The dispensation of each particular whereof, how gracious would it have shewed you! but you poured them forth all together, as the Sun and Day, whose light appeares not in part, but in whole, nor to one or two, but to all the world in common. What a blessing is it to be­hold the treasury silent and quiet, and such as it was before there were Informers! Now the God is truely there; now it is a Temple, not the spoliarie of the Citizens, and receptacle of cruell and bloody plunder: In the whole orbe of the earth, there is yet one place where under a good Prince the good are too hard for the wicked. Yet still the honour of the Law remaines, nothing is taken off from the publique benefit, nor the penalty remitted to any one, but our re­venge is added; and herein the change consists, that now, not the Informers, but the Lawes are feared. But peradventure you re­straine not your Exchequer with the same severitie as you doe our Treasury, yes so much the more, as you beleeve you may take a far­ther liberty in what concernes your selfe, than in what concernes the publique. 'Tis said to yourActor and Procuratour were Officers of the Exche­quer (as this place imports) and the Procu­rator the grea­ter, who was the Advocate, or Judge Fis­call, and the Actor as I sup­pose the Empe­rour's Attour­ney generall. Actor and likewise to your Procurator, come into the Court, appeare at the Tribunall; for a Tribunall is now set up, that vexeth them equall with others, more, if you mea­sure their torments by the greatnesse of their qualities. The lot andLots inscri­bed with names were put into an Urne for the choyce of Ro­man Magi­strats, in imita­tion whereof at this day the Ve­netians have balls. urne assigne a judge to the Chequer-chamber, 'tis lawfull to reject him, 'tis lawfull to cry I will have none of this, hee is a timerous man, and understands not well the goodnesse of the times; I will [Page 24] have none of him, because hee too passionately loves Caesar; princi­pality and liberty use the same Lawe. And which is your chiefe glory, the Exchequer is often foiled, whose cause is never ill but under a good Prince. A mighty merit this, but that farre greater, that you have those Procurators, as commonly your Subjects desire no other Judges, though it be free for any that disputes his title, to say, I will have another Judge: for you annex no necessity to your gifts, as knowing the highest grace of Princes favors is, if wee likewise may not use them. The burdens of government compell decrees of divers Taxes, which as they are a benefit to the generality, so they are an injury to particulars. Among these theWhen Augu­stus had taken an account of the multitude of Roman Ar­mies, finding much money requisite for the maintenance of all those foote and horse, he ordained that all inheritances or Legacies left by will to any (save to the neerest of blood & to the poore) should pay the twentieth part, as if hee had found this tri­bute written in Caesar's Com­mentaries. Dion twentieth part was pitched upon, a tribute only tolerable and easie toStrangers that had no relation of blood. extraneous heires, but a grievance to domestick. Upon them it is thereforeAusonius mentions some of the twentieth part to be retai­ned by Trajan, and tells us tha [...] Gratian remit­ted the whole. imposed, un­to those remitted. For as much as it was manifest with how much griefe men would suffer (or rather men would not suffer) any thing to be pared and shaved off from those goods, which by descent and sacred affinitie they had deserved, and which they never accounted as other mens estates, and as fortunes to be hoped for, but as their owne, as things ever possessed and still to be transmitted to the next of blood. This courtesie of the Law was reserved only for the old denizons of Rome, but the new ones, whether they came in by the right ofjus Latij, the right of Latium priviledged those [Aliens] that obtained it from taxes, Paulus de censibus F. l. and likewise put them into a capacity of being Magistrates. Latium, or by the favour of the Prince, unlesse they had therewith granted to them the right of kindred, the Law looked up­on them as greatest strangers, where they were most neare of kinne. Thus the greatest right was turned into the greatest injury, and the City of Rome was like to hatred, discord and privation of children, since by it the nearest alliances (notwithstanding their pietie) were disjoyned; yet some were found to beare so great affection to our name, that they held the twentith part, & the losse of their affinities, fully recompensed with the title of Citizens of Rome, but it ought freeliest to have been conferr'd upon those, by whom it was so high­ly valued. It was therefore Decreed by your Father, that what out of the mothers goods came to the children, out of the childrens to the mother (though they had not received the right ofIt appeares plainly that the stranger, notwithstanding his Indenization was not freed from Augustus his Edict for the twentieth part, unlesse hee had sued forth the right of kindred, till Nerva dispensed with it. cognation when they were made Citizens of Rome) should not be liable to pay the twentieth part; the same immunity he granted to the sonne in the [Page 25] goods of his Father (in case he were reduced into his fathersA sonne was reduced into his fathers power two waies, ei­th erif (being freed & eman­cipated by his Father) he did returne of his owne accord, or jure postli­minij if (being taken prisoner by the enemy) he came back to his Country, for that set him instatuquo and his father might be his heyre as before h s emancipa­tion. power) thinking it unhonest and insolent & almost impious to put taxes vpon these relations, nor that without a kinde of sacriledg these holy tyes could be cut in sunder by the interposition of the twentith part. And that no necessary tax ought to be so pressed, as to make Fa­thers and Children strangers. Thus farr he, perhaps more sparingly then became the best Prince, but not more sparingly then became the best Father, that being to adopt the Best, in this likewise as a most indulgent parent, was content to beginne, or rather but to shew the way, reservinge for his sonne a large and almost untouched mat­ter of well-doing. Immediately therefore to his bounty your libe­rality added, that as the sonne in the fathers, so the father should be priviledged in the sonnes inheritance, nor in the same mōent that he ceased to be a Father, should he lose his having beene one. You haue done excellently, Caesar, not to suffer the fathers teares to be tributa­ry. The father possesses his sonnes goods without diminution, nor hath he a partner in his inheritance, that hath no partner in his sor­row. None calls to account the fresh bleeding and astonishing losse of Children, compelling the Father to set forth what the sonne left. Our Prince's guift appeares greater, when I shew this reason for his bounty. For it may be accounted ambition, vaine glory and profuse­nesse, and any thing rather then liberality, that is not consonant to rea­son. It was worthy therefore your compassion, Caesar, to lessen the affliction of parents now growne childlesse, nor to suffer any that hath lost his sonne to be stricken with another greife; because t'is mi­sery enough, for a father to be sole heyre to his sonne; what if he haue a Coheyre not of his sonnes naming? Besides, when divine Nerva had decreed, that for their fathers estates the children should be free from payment of the twentith part, it was congruous and fit, that the same freedome should be granted to parents in their sonnes estates: for why should children receive more honour, then Progenitours? and why should not the same equity ascend? You, Caesar, haue taken away that exception, in case the sonne be in his fathers power, having an eye (as I conceive) to the force and law of nature that ordereth children to be for ever in the power of parents, nor giveth, among men, as among beasts, the power and command to the stronger. Neither was our Prince content to priviledge the first degree of blood from the twentith part, he likewise exempts the second; with a proviso that the brother in his sisters goods, and the sister in her brothers, that the vncle and aunt in their nephewes [Page 26] and neices estates, and contrarily, should remaine untaxable. And to those that by the Right of Latium were free of Rome, he graunted the same privilege, and rejoyned the rights of kindreds according to the course of nature. For which favours former Princes put par­ticular persons to petition, not so much with intention to grant, as to deny them. Whence we may understand, how great an act of bounty, and noblenesse it was, to collect and bind vp our scattered and (as I may call them) dilacerated familyes; to regraft, and bid them, as it were to spring a fresh; freely to offer, what had beene denyed, and give to all at once, what often severally they could not obteyn. Lastly to barre himselfe of so many occasions of doing fa­vour, and such a copious subject for obligation to the thankfull, and imputation to the ingratefull: I conceive he thought it unfitting for men to aske, what the Gods had given. You are sisters and brothers, grandfathers and grandchildren, why should you, [because you are so] be impoverished with a tax? your relations are your privileges. The Emperour according to the rest of his princely moderation, thinks it a matter of no lesse envy, to grant vpō petition your own in­heritances to you, then to take thē from you. With alacrity therefore stand for honour, sue for office, let this blocke of lopt-off kindred ly in no mans way, all shall enjoy the same proximity of blood they did before, but in a better manner. The remotest degree of late-ceasing affinity, shall not be compelled to pay in the least quantity of the twentith part. For our commonTrajan, the father of his Country. parent hath set downe a summe that is able to beare a tax. The twentith part shall not lye heavie upon a small and weake estate, nay if the gratefull heyre so please, he may reserve it all for the sepulchre, all for the funeralls; no assistant, no superintendent to oversee him. For whatsoever consideration his legacy was left him, he may securely injoy and quietlyFor that pur­pose, to bestow it upon the Fu­neralls of the bequeather. possesse the mony. The law of the twentith part is now so penned, that there is no coming within compasse of it but by a great estate; injustice is turned into joy, and an injury into a longing, the heyre wishes the honour of paying the twentith part. It is likewise enacted by the same Edict that they who owe and have not payed the twentith part, should not bring it in. Truly the time past the Gods them­selves cannot help, yet you have helped it, and provided that now they should cease to owe, what they should not owe hereafter. You have done that puts us into such a Condition, as if we never had suffered under evill Princes, and how willingly (if it were possi­ble) would the same goodnesse of your nature, to so many ruined [Page 27] and murthered men restore their blood and fortunes. You have for­bid the exaction of what begunne not to be due in your owne reigne. Another to shew his fury against the contumacious would have pu­nished slownesse of payment with a double, nay, a quadruple fine. You esteeme it equall injustice, either to exact what is unjust, or to decree it. You take upon you (Caesar) the Consul's care and solici­tude; for when I consider, that you alone have remitted our asseiss­ments, given the donative, offered the Congiary, banished Infor­mers, mitigated our taxes, methinks I should put the question to you, have you sufficiently cast up the revenues of the Empire? or is there such vertue in the frugality of a Prince, as that alone can be suf­ficient for so much expense, so much munificence? for what can be the reason, why other Princes when they catched at all we had, and having caught, retained it as if they had got nothing, wanted all things; you, when you bestow so much, and take away nothing, yet have all things in aboundance? Princes yet never wanted those, that with sowre lookes, and supercilious gravitie, were peremptory for the profits of the Exchequer; Even Princes themselves of their owne inclinations were sufficiently Coveteous & rapacious, & need­ed no instructours; Yet still they learned many things of us against our selves. But your eares, as they are obstructed to all insinuations, so cheifly avaritious flattery can have no accesse. Therefore Infor­mers are silent and quiet, and after, there is none to be perswaded, there is none that offers to perswade. Thus are we infinitely obliged to you, both for your goodnesse and our owne. TheThe Voconian Law forbad a woman (though an only daughter as S. Aug. 3. de Civ. Det.) to be heyre to an estate; that Iulian Law which he meant (for there were ma­ny) forbad a­dultery upon paine of death and w s revi­ved by Domiti­an that lived in Incest. see Iuv. Sat. 2. Voconian and Iulian lawes, did not so much inrich the Treasury and Exche­quer, as that one and only crime of high treason in theDomitian to inrich his cof­fers found ma­ny (upon strange Im­peachments) guilty of high treason, some meerly because th y had gathe­red exc [...]ssive wealth, which begot disdaine, made them hold their heads high and be disobedient to the Lawes, one because in his publike prayers for Domitian he did not stile him Sonne to Pallas, another because he went into an Island as if he had killed his Fathe. Philostratus l. 7. innocent. The fright whereof you have absolutely taken away, not being jea­lous of your greatnesse, which none hath wanted more, then they that made majesty a terrour. Fidelity is returned to freinds, piety to children, duty to servants; they feare and obey, and once againe have masters, for now not our servants but we our selves are the Princes friends. Nor doth the Father of his Country more indeare himselfe to, and put more confidence in others slaves, then his owne subjects. You have freed us all from our domestick accusers, and giving the word (as I may say) of publike safety, you have put an end unto thisHe compares the private bandying of servants informing against their masters to the publike warre of slaves against Rome, begunne in Sicily by Ennus the Syrian, serville warr: whereby you have not more obliged the masters, [Page 28] then the servants; for you have made those secure, these honest. Will you not be yet commended? well, put the case these were not commendable, sure they are pleasing, to them who remember aDomitian who incoura­ged servants to sweare against their Lords and then (the just remarkable reward of Traytours) from those hands that should pay them for their service, they (like Tarpeia) received their fatall blow. Prince that incouraged servants to swear away their masters lifes, and pointed them out the crime whereof they should informe, that he might punish it; a great, inevitable, and still experienced Evill, as oft as any had servants like the Prince. 'Tis to be placed in the same ranke rhat our last Wills and Testaments are nowWhich had beene invaded by former Em­perours; Tibe­rius broke the heart of the rich Augur Lentulus, be­cause he durst not leave his estate to any but the Emp. The Primipila­rij or chiefe Centurions that dyed in the reigne of Tiberius and made not him heyre Caius called ungrate­full, and Nero ordained that the Testaments of the ungratefull should be confiscated. se­cure, nor do you carry away all, because you were once nominated an heyre. You are intituled to no false, no unjust Will; no ones an­ger, no ones impiety, no ones fury flies to you for refuge, nor are you named because another hath offended, but because you have merited. Your friends put you in, strangers leave you out, no difference be­twixt your being a private person and a Prince, but that now you are beloved of many more, because you love many more. This course, Caesar, you hold, and experience shewes, whether it be not more be­neficiall to a Prince, not only in prayse but profit, that to make him their heyre men should be rather desirous, then compelled. Many donations in this kinde yourNerva, who restored the rapines of Domitian, was bount full to the poore even out of his owne Estate, and so free to his freinds that Philostratus sayes when Atticus (father to Herod the Rhetoritian) writt to Nerva that he had digged vp a great Treasure and desired to know how he pleased it should be disposed of, he writt back Vse it. Atticus answered his letter, that 'twas too great for a private condition, Nerva replyed, then abuse it. Father and you have granted: dyed he out of favour? yet dying so he leaves them that injoy his estate and you have nothing out of it, but glory. For a gratefull debter makes bountie sweeter, an ingratefull, more conspicuous. But who, untill your time, preferred this prayse before that profit? What Prince but thought so much of our patrimony his owne, as had been gotten under him? as our Tyrants, so likewise our Princes boun­tyes were they not like hookes bayted with food, like nets cover'd over with prey, till being swallowed & laden with private mens for­tunes, they drew backe with the whatsoever touched them. How be­neficiall it is to come to prosperity through adversity! You have lived with us, beene in danger with us, & in feare, (which was the life of the innocent.) You know, & have experience, how much Princes de­test evill mē, though they themselves do make them such. You remē ­ber your old wishes with us, & your old greivances, for in the bosome [Page 29] of a Prince you beare the judgemēt of a private man. Nay you are better then you wished another Prince should be. You have so ac­customed us, that whereas before our highest ambitiō was a Prince better thē the worst, now none will content us but the best. No man therefore is so ignorant of you, or of himselfe, as to desire that place after you. It is easier for one to be your successour, then toThis was no prophesy of A­drian, for he wished it, and by the favour of Plotina, wife to Trajan, A­drian succeeded him in the Em­pire. wish it; for who willingly would undergoe your weight of care? who will not feare to be compared to you? even you your selfe found how bur­thensome it is to succeed a good Prince, and therefore would have beene excused from your adoption. Is it an ordinary Patterne easy to be matcht, that no man redeemes his safety with turpitude? all are se­cured both of life, and the dignity of life. Nor is he now considerate and wise, that obscures himselfe and lives in darkenesse, for virtue hath the same encouragements under our Prince, which it had in our liberty; nor is well doing onely rewarded by the Conscience, but far­ther recompenced. You love the constancy of your Subjects; and their lively and erected spirits you doe not (like others) deject and de­presse, but cherish and raise. Honesty preferres men that thinke it e­nough and more, if it hurt them not. To these you offer Honours, Preisthoods, Provinces; these flourish by your freindship, by your esteeme and Judgement. They are quickened by the price that is set upon Integrity and industry. The like and the unlike are attracted, for it is the reward of good and evill that makes men good or bad. There are naturally few by whom foule or faire ends are not propo­sed or avoided, as they make for or against their benefit. The rest, when they see the wages of labour paid to sloth, of vigilance to drowsinesse, of frugality to luxury, they aime at the same rewards by the sameTacitus. l. 16. saith that C. Pe­tronius spent the day in sleep, the night in waiting and wanton offices, and as industry raised others, so sloath ad­vanced him, who applying himselfe to vi­ces, or the imi­tation of vices, got to be one of that small Jun­cto that were in Nero's fa­vour. arts, wherewith they perceive others have attained them; such as those are such these desire to appeare, & what they would on­ly seeme, they doe really become. And our former Princes, (your Fa­ther excepted) and one orHe meanes Augustus and Titus, whowere good, but Dion sayes, the Ro­manes would scarce have thought them so, if Augustus had died soo­ner, or Titus li­ved longer. For the troublesōe beginning of his Reigne made Augustus more cruell, who when things were setled proved gracious and noble; But Titus, at first stiled the delight of mankind, afterward did some barbarous acts; as when he cau­sed Aulus Caecinna (whom he invited to supper) to be murthered in his Dining roome. two (I feare I have over numbred them) rather delighted in the vices, then the virtues of their Subjects. First because every one loves to see his owne nature in another, then those whom they found more patient of bondage, those whom it would not have become to be any thing butSuch was the Aegyptian slave Crispinus, onely beloved by Domitian for the sympathy of his vices, you have his graphike Character. Juv. Sat. 4. servants, in their bosomes they heaped all their bounties; but the good, that in a long vacation of em­ployment [Page 30] were hidden, and, as it were, buried, them they never brought forth to the light and day, unlesse by informations, and with danger. You choose your freinds out of the best, and truly it is just they should be most in favour with a good Prince, that were most frowned upon by a bad. You know that as tyranny and Soveraignty are of different natures, so none love a Prince better, then they that most disaffect a Tyrant. These therefore you advance, and give us proofe and example, what course of life, what kinde of men you are best pleased withall. Therefore you have not as yet accepted of the Censourship or Superintendency of manners, because you like better to worke upon our dispositions by benefits, then by remedies; besides I know not if a Prince contribute more to manners, that suffers men to be good, or thatThis touches the perpetuall Censourships of Domitian, who being him­selfe most viti­ous compelled others to doe well; thus as Censour he put Caecilius Rufinus from his place in Senate, because he used to dance; and though Claudi­us Pacatus was de facto, a Cen­turion, yet proofe being brought that he was de jure a Slave, Domi­tian by his Censour's po­wer restored him to his Lord Dion. compells them. We are all flexible and ductile where the Prince drawes us, and follow him where he leades, for we are ambitious to be indeared to, and approved of him, which those that are not like him have hoped for in vaine; and by continua­tion of obsequiousnesse we are come to that passe, that almost all live according to the precedent of one mans manners. Besides we are not so ill natured, that we which can be imitatours of a bad Prince, can­not imitate a good. Doe you, Caesar, but goe forwards, and your de­signes and actions shall have the force and effect of a Censourship. For the life of a Prince is a Censourship, and that perpetuall, by that we are directed, upon that our eyes are fixed, nor have we so much need of precept, as example: because feare is an unfaithfull guide to virtue; men are better instructed by examples, which primarily have in them this good, that they shew what is commanded may be done. And what terrour could effect that, which respect to you hath brought about? some one got the people to suffer the spectacle ofThe Panto­mimes were such as our fooles in plaies, or the Italian Pantalounes, Imitatours of all garbes, po­stures and tones how wanton soever. Pantomimes to be taken away, but yet he got it not as he desired; you entreated what another inforced, and that became a favour which had beene necessity. Nor were you lesse unanimously petitioned to take them away, then your Father was to restore them. And both your acts were well, for they ought to be restored that were taken away by an evill Prince, and when they were restored, to be taken away againe. For in what ill men doe well, this course is to be held, that it may appeare the au­thor is displeasing, not the action. The same people therefore that were sometimes spectatours and applauders of a mimicke Caesar, now dislike the Pantomimes, and condemne effeminate arts and studies misbecoming the Times. From which premisses we may conclude the discipline of Princes takes with the very vulgar, [Page 31] since if he alone doe a severe act, they all will doe the like. Increase this glory, Caesar, wonne by your gravity. And what formerly was called compulsion and command, shall be now stiled manners. Their owne vices are corrected by them that ought them­selves to be corrected, and those very men are the reformers that should have beene reformed. None therefore complaynes of your severity, yet all have freedome to complayne. But notwithstanding that men do not lesse complayne of any Prince, then of him that al­lowes them greatest freedome: yet [so farre we are from cause of complaint, that] there is nothing in your times that causeth not a generall rejoycing. The good are advanced, the evill (which is the calmest condition of an Empire) neitherFor they know the good will not be In­formers, and they themselve dare not. feare, nor are feared. You cure our errours, but wee our selves beseech you; those whom you make good, you do it with this honour to your selfe, that it appeareth you have not compelled them. What the life? what the manners of our youth? how prince-like do you forme them? what honour do you toSuch as Pli­ny's tutor Quintilian, who publikely taught Rheto­rike in Trajan's reign. Rhetoricke Masters, what advancement do you giveAs that no­ble Philosopher Plutarch Tra­jans Tutor. Philosophyers! insomuch as under you our studyes have foundDomitian condemning Rusticus Aruli­nus meerely be­cause he was a philosopher & writt the life of Thraseas, He­rennius Senecio for writing the life of Helvidi­us Priscus, and Pompusian for hanging up a Mappe of the world in his chamber, and reading the Kings speeches in Livy, and other learned Professours he banished from Rome. Dion. life, spirit, and their native Country, which the barbarity of former Ages punished with exile; when the Prince, conscious of a world of his owne vices, banished vice-persecuting arts, not so much for hate, as feare; but you have those very arts in yourIuv. 7. Sat. Caesar is both our studyes cause and end, For he alone is the sad Muses freind. em­braces, in your eye, and in your eare. For you do whatsoever they enjoyne, andIuvenal Sat. Youth [...]s study, Caesar's bounty spurrs you on, That seekes but matter it may worke upon. love them as much as you are approved of by them. Doth not every professor in humanity admiring all things in you, especially extoll your facility in giving of accesse? With a great soule your father over the Palace gates set up the title of publike buildings, but vainly, unlesse he had adopted one that might live as in publike. How well do your manners suite with that inscripti­on, although indeed it lookes as if no other had ingraven the title. For what Court of Iustice, what temple is so open? not the Capi­toll, the very place of your adoption is more publike, more every bodyes, no bolts, no degrees of contumely, and having passed a thousand dores, yet to meet with an affront and be lockt out. A great stilnesse is before and behind you, but the greatest is about your per­son, and every where such silence such Civility, that the Princes Court may be a patterne of modesty and tranquillity to narrow Lares, [Page 32] and private dwellings. But you your selfe how you receive us all, how you stay among us! so that in so many cares of government you spend a great part of the day as if you had no businesse. we therefore come not running to Court, as formerly,See the Car­riage of the Se­natours, when Domitian sent for them to ad­vise him how the great Tur­but should be dressed. Iuv. Sat. 4. For which in such hast and asto­nishment, For them our migh­ty Generall had sent &c. astonished; nor as if we should loose our head if we mended not our paces; but secure and cheerefull, at our owne convenient leasure; and when the Prince vouschafes his presence, many times there is something as more ne­cessary that detayneth us at home. Yet to you we are alwaies to be excused, never to be accused. for you know it is every ones joy to see you, to attend you frequently, and therefore you doe us this ho­nour the freer and the longer. Nor dothRetirement, as when Ti­berius With­drew with the Asstrologers to Caprae. Iuv. Sat. 10. where he sitts, Thron'd on a rocke with his Chaldaean Wits. retirement andSolitude such as this of Domitians which he proceedes to describe. solitude follow your admissions; we make you tarry for us, and stay with you; as if the Court were a house common to us all, which lately that most cruell monster had fortified with multiplicity of terrour, when lurking as it were in a kind of denne, now he licked up his kins­mens blood, now sallied forth to worry and devour the noblest Ro­mans. Horrour and threatning waited at his gates, and the same fear seized the admitted, and those that wereWhich were the noblest per­sons, this Iuv. observes Sat. 4. The presence hinges nimbly turne about. The Fish goes in, the Senate waite w thout. kept out. Then he himselfe was terrible to meete or to behold, pride in his forehead, fury in his eyes, a feminine palenesse in his body, impudence in his face floating vpon muchTacitus l. XII. notes this Colour in Domitian, and sayes; by those that knew him not, his fre­quent blushes were taken for modesty. sanguine colour, none durst make approa­ches, none durst speake to him, still keeping himselfe retired and in the darke, never coming abroad out of his solitude, unlesse it were to make a solitude. Yet within those walls and works heMaintaining in his house the Conspiratours against him, to wit, Stephanus freed-man to his sister Domitilla (whom his tyranny had then made a widow) Parthenius, Saturius Entellus, Claudius Cornicularius, and Maximus Parthenus, his domestikes. har­bour'd plots and stratagems against his owne life, and inclosed the revenger of his mischiefes, God. His punishment broke through the guards, through the narrow and obstructed passages as easie as if the doores had beene opened, and they invited over the thresholds, then he had noHis stile of Dominus & Deus noster could not then protect him; Pliny might very well have added, twas that Lord and God whose titles he usurped that destroyed him by the hands of those wicked Instruments. Divinitie, no inaccessible and bloody withdrawing roomes where he retired for fear, and pride, and hatred of mankind. How much safer, how much securer now is the same house, since it came to be defended not with solitude and trenches, nor the guards of cruelty, but of love. Do we not therefore learne this by expe­rience, [Page 27] that the surest guard is the Princ'es innocence. This is the in­expugnable fort, this is the impregnable bulwarke, not to need a bulwark. In vaine he incompasseth himselfe with terrour that is not incompassed with love; for by armes, armes are provoked. But do you only spend the serious part of the day in our eies and assem­blyes? In your recreations is there not present the same frequency, the same society? do you not alwayes eat in publike? is not your table common? is there not a mutuall pleasure when you feast us? do you not invite and answer our discourse? your very meale time when your temperance contracts it for your selfe, doth not your humani­tie lengthen it out for us? for you do not fill your selfe alone atFor the ninth houre (being our three in the afternoone) was the Ro­manes meale ime. noone day, and then stand over as supervisour and Censurer of your guests, nor beingSuetonius T. sayes. Domiti­on used so to o­vereate him­selfe at dinner [...]hat he durst venture upon nothing at sup­per unlesse it were an apple or some little running colla­tion. full and flatuous your selfe, do you not so much bid your friends to your table, as affront them with the meats you scorne to touch, nor, hardly disguising that proud hypocrisy of entertainment, do you hasten away againe to clandestine gluttony, and secret rarityes? We therefore admire not your gold and silver plate, nor the exquisite wit and invention of your dishes, but the sincerity and sweetnesse of your entertainment; in which is no sati­ety, all your professions being sincere and true, and adorned with gravity. For neither the mysteries of forreinSuch as the Mathematici­ans instilled in­to Tiberius. superstition, nor obsceneLike to that which Juvenal excludes from his owne Ta­ble. Sa [...]. 11. per­haps thou doest expect that I should bring the Spanish Courtezans to dance and sing. ex paulo infe­rius. The poor house is not ta­ken with their ioyes. Their obscene Songs and Castinet­ta's noise. petulancy waites at our Princes table, but a gratious wel­come, free mirth, and the honour of learning. Thus, your sleepes are sparing and short, and your love to us makes you thinke no time more tedious, then that which you spend out of our sight, but we that enjoy what's yours as freely as what we have our selves, how abso­lute is our owne propriety? For you turne not out the old Lords to inclose everyLike Nero, who designed a Fish-pond in Campana from that Promontory now called Monte Me­seno, to Lago di Tripergola, then Avernus or Pluto's Lake, to be covered over head, and galleried a­bout that should comprehend all the warme water of Baiae, and likewise began a Lake, like a sea shoa­red with a City, inclosing groves, vineyards, pastures, and woods, replenished with all kinds of beasts, tame and wild. These disseisures kept by Nero's successours, Traian restored to the right owners. pond, every lake, nay every forrest, making your title boundlesse. Nor doe the flouds, the foun­taines, and the sea, serve now for one mans prospect. Yet what doth Caesar see that is not his? and now at last the Empire of the Prince is greater then his Patrimony: For he bestowes upon his Empire many things that were his Patrimony, which former Prin­ces kept in their possessions, not that they might injoy them, but lest another should. Therefore into the mansions and seates of Noble­men, their noble Lords returne; nor are the houses of great persons [Page 28] possessed by a servant, rather spoiled then inhabited, nor fall they to the ground in sordid ruines. We may see faire houses, their scituati­ons brushed up, rebeautified, enlarged, and flourishing: You merit highly Caesar, not onely of men, but even of houses, to arrest ruine, to expell solitude, and vindicate great workes from destruction with the same gallant soule wherewith they first were built. Even those mute and senselesse creatures seeme to have a sense of joy, that they are neate, that they are frequented, that at last they belong to a Lord, not to a servant. Traian. Caesar authorizes a vast Inventory of those goods to be exposed to sale that were the detested avarice of himDomit [...]an. that co­veted so much when he had so much superfluous. Then it wasRich men, as I have former­ly noted, being sentenced one­ly for being rich and conse­quently dange­rous to the S [...]ate. death to have a larger house, a fairer Villa. Now the Prince himselfe seekes out, and brings Lords into the selfe same houses. Those sometimesN ro's Gar­dens. gardens of a mighty Emperour, that no bodies but Caesars He under­stands not the very Suburbs of Rome, but the Towne of Alba, distant from the City 140 furlongs, where Domit­an usually kept his Court. suburbs, we bargaine for, buy, and people it. So great is the Princes goodnesse, so great the security of the times, that he thinkes us worthy of impe­riall possessions, and we feare not to be thought so. Nor doe you one­ly grant your Subjects leave to purchase, but you give & bestow upon them many handsome and beneficiall things, those very things, I meane, to which you were chosen, to which you were adopted; you transferre what was judiciously made over to you, and you beleive nothing to be more your owne, then what you enjoy by the proxy of your freinds. You your selfe are as thrifty in building, as carefull in preserving. Therefore the City is not with the carriagesJuv. paints out these carri­ages exactly, Sta. 3. Now meets he car [...]s where the tall firre-trees quake; Now some that pine-trees at the peo­ple shake. Suppose the ax­el-tree should breake that beares Liguri­an stones, if pour'd about his eares. That mountaine should thy shiver'd slave intombe. What think'st thou of his carcasse would be­come. Where any limbe lyes who can find the hole? His body sure would vanish l ke h s soule. of monstrous stones, as formerly, put into an earthquake, our houses now stand safe, nor are our temples feaverish. It seemes you thinke that which you received as successour to a most frugall Prince, to be enough, and too much for you that you can part with some of that he left as neces­sary. Besides your Father when he debarred himselfe of what the fortune of the Empire gave him, did it safely because he wasYours that would have provided for your father Nerva, if he had given away all, as he did a great part of his possessions. your Father. But how magnificent are you towards the publicke! Here Ports, there Temples, are dispatched with that secret speed, as one would thinke them not built, but repaired onely: here those vast flan­kers of theIn their great Show-place, the Circus, the Romanes beheld horse-matches, coach-races, sword-play, with all kinds of presentments. It was at first flanked with pent-houses for the Spectatours, then galleried about with 30 distinct Fori by Tarquinius Priscus, and now beau­tified and inlarged with five thousand benches by Traian, with this Inscription. vt populo Romano sufficeret. Dion. Circus that compare in beauty with the temples: It is [Page 29] now a show-place worthy the Conquerours of the world, it selfe be­ing a sight no lesse rare then what from thence is seene. But to behold the Architecture shewes not fairer, then to behold the Princes and peoples benches of the selfe same modell, since there is now in the whole fabricke but one face, all even and equall. Nor is Caesars seat more his owne, then the spectatours seates are theirs. You therefore and your Subjects freely view one another. They have not the ho­nour now to see the Princes private box; but to see the Prince him­selfe sitting among his people: his people, on whom he hath be­stowed the addition of five thousand benches, for you have here in­creased their number as you did in the Congiary; and have thus like­wise encouraged them to multiply themselves hereafter, confident of your Magnificence. If one of these Princely gifts had been vouch­safed by another, he had long since worne a glory on his head circled about with sun beames, his throne of gold or Ivory had beene set a­mong the Gods, and invocation made unto him on higher altars and with greater sacrifices. You come not into the Temple but to pray, the honours you let your Statues have is to waite without the Tem­ple, to stand centrie for the Gods, and to bee preferred before the marble pillars. So the Gods with greatest reverence are adored by men, since you have not aspired to be a God. Therefore in the porch of Jupiter the best and greatest, we see one or two of your Statues, and those brasse, but not long agoe every doore, every steppe the whole pavement of the Temple shined, or rather was polluted with gold and silver, when the Images of the Gods were grown sordid by mixing with the statues of anDomitian who (as I have noted) lived in incest with his Niece Julia. incestuous Prince. Therefore your brazen ones, and those but few, remaine and shall remaine, so long as the Temple it selfe continues, but their golden ones, and those in­numerable are ruin'd, and dyed Sacrifices to the publique joy. 'Twas gallant sport to knock the ground and those proud heads together, to pick holes in them with swords, to hew them with hatchets, as if at every stroake blood and paine had beene to follow. None, at the too late arrivall of his comforts, was so modest in his joy, but he thought it a kind of revenge to see their torne limbes, their dis­membred joynts; Lastly their cruell and horrid Images cast into the flame andThis melting of Statues for use, Juv. describes Sat. 10. Their Chariot-wheeles groane under th'Axes stroke, And ev'n their Innocent horses legs are broke, The fire to crackling flames the bellowes turnes. The head adored by the people burnes; The great Sejanus melts, and of the face, Which of the whole world had the second place, Basins and Ewres, Pots, Frying-pans are made— melted, their terrour and threatning changed, and [Page 30] fitted for man's use and pleasure: With like reverence to the Dei­ty; you, Caesar, will not suffer us to give thanks for your goodnesse to your Genius in yourAs Domitian commanded, who caused a woman to be put to death for undressing her selfe before his Statues Di­on. who saies he filled the world with his silver and gol­den statues, but concludes (as Pliny here) that they were broke, and sold, and a vast sum of money ray­sed out of their conflation. statues, but to the divinity of Jupiter, the best and greatest; what we are indebted to you we pay to him, and acknowledge your well doing to be his gift that gave us you. Whereas formerly mighty flocks of Sacrifices so crowded the high way to the Capitol, that a great part of them was inforced to turne back and and seeke out blind Lanes to get thither, when ourDomitian's whose Deity was so intitu­led. Lord's feirce Images were worshipped with as much blood of beasts, as hee shed blood of men. My Lords, all I have or shall speake of former Princes, tends only so farre as to shew what customary and long cor­rupted manners our parent hath corrected and reformed. Moreo­ver, those prayses want their beauty that are not shadowed with comparison. Besides, it is the generall duty of pious Subjects to­wards their best Emperour to taxe those that were vnlike him, for they cannot sufficiently love good Princes, that disrelish not the e­vill. Add, that no merit of our Emperour is more great and glorious, then that 'tis safe under him to speake against ill Princes. Hath our griefe forgotten the lateEpaphroditus Nero's freed­man, whom Domitian had once acquitted, he then execu­ted, charging him as accessa­ry to Nero's death, that pu­nishing him, it might before­hand bee a pre­monition of terror to his own freed-men not to assist him if he should intreat them. Dion. revenge for Nero? Can I conceive hee would permit Nero's fame and life to be censured that did revenge his death? and would not interpret that to be spoken of himselfe, which was spoken of one so like him. Therefore (Caesar) you have equall'd, nay exceeded the most of your bounties, that you permit us daily, both to vindicate our selves of our evill Emperours for the time past, and to admonish future Princes, by their example, that there is no place, no time, wherein the spirits of Tyrants can rest quiet from the execrations of posterity: Therefore, My Lords, since we may as boldly utter our griefe, as our joy, let us likewise mourn for what we have suffer'd. We may doe both together under a good Prince; This let our secret discourses doe, this our publique speeches, this our thanksgivings, and let us remember the living Em­perour is then highest praysed when his ill-deserving predecessors are reprehended; for, when succession sayes nothing of an evil Prince, 'tis manifest he that succeeds him is the like. And what place, then, was left for miserableFlattery was come to an incredible height in Domitian's time, as you may see by the Fisher man that speakes to him in Juv. Sat. 4. With speed thy stomack cleare of common meate, And this untill thy time kept Turbut eate, 'Twould needs be caught, could any Rascall glose More plainly? yet this Peacocks-feathers rose. Nothing so grosse but will beleefe encline, When that powr's prays'd equalls the powrs Divine. flattery, when the prayses of Em­perours [Page 31] were celebrated in playes, at banquets, and in jigges, with all kind of broken and effeminate voices, garbs and fashions. But what shame, that at the same time they should be praysed in the Scene and in the Senate; by the Player and by the Consul? Farre from your prayses you have removed all those mock-Arts; serious verses therefore, and the eternall honour of our Annals, not a short and lascivious speech paies veneration to your name; nay the sta­ges themselves rise up to doe you honor, since the scenes were silent. But why doe I make this a wonder? When those very honours which we offer you, eyther you take them very sparingly, or not at all. Of old, nothing so vulgar or triviall was agitated in Senate, but the proceedings were hindred with the prayse of Princes, a necessity lying upon every Senator, first to passe his vote for them. We con­sulted about increasing the number of Gladiators, about instituting a colledge of Smithes; and as if the bounds of the Empire had beene enlarged, we dedicated to the names of Caesar's now mighty Arches with inscriptions wch Temples scarce could hold now theBecause Do­mitiā was born in October he named that mo­neth Domitian. Dion. He like­wise named September Germa­nicus, from the stile which hee had assumed. months of the yeare, two or three at once; all which they suffered, and as if they had deserved it, rejoyc't: But now, which of us, forgetting the cause in agitation, passeth his vote in honour of the Prince? This is the prayse of your moderation, and our constancy, that wee obey you by assembling in Senate, not to flatter you, but for the use and offices of Justice; and that being to doe our duties to you, we owe this to your candour and truth, that we may beleeve that you acceptContrary to the practice of Tiberius & Do­mitian, whose Letters & spee­ches were no remonstrances of their intenti­ons. what is pleasing, and refuse what you dislike. We beginne and end our consultations so, as we neither might beginne nor end them under another Prince. For true it is, there have beene others that recei­ved not divers honours decreed by us, none before you was of so great a Soule, that we beleeve he wished them vndecreed. And truly should we compare with the necessity of former times, wee should be much exceeded. For dissimulation is more ingenious, then truth, servitude then liberty, feare then love; Besides, all invention being long since spent in flattery, no other new honour remaines for us to give you, but only to take the boldnesse sometimes to say nothing. Notwithstanding if at any time our piety breake silence, it prevailes upon your modesty; Whatsoever we decree, you refuse not, that it may appeare, you have not, out of pride and disdaine, waved the highest honours, that doe not scorne the lowest. This, Caesar, is more honour to you, then if you refused all; for to refuse all argues ambition, but it is moderation to choose the smallest; which temper [Page 32] of yours is both a benefit to us and to the Treasury; you thereby limi­ting the expense thereof, not drayning it, to be replenished with the fortunes of the innocent. Your effigies therefore stand, as those of old that were dedicated to private persons for their glorious merits towards the publique. We see the Statues of our Caesar made of the same matter with theL. Brutus (that expelled the Tarquins) had a brazen Statue set up in the Capitol. M. Brutus, that conspi­red against Cae­sar) his Statue was at Millain. Plutarch Furt­us Camillus that preserved Rome from the victo­rious Galls, his Statue stood in the place for O­rations, Pliny lib. 24. Brutuses, with the Camilli; nor doth the cause differ, for they expel'd the tyrants, & beat the victorius enemy from our walls; you have banished and removed tyranny it selfe and all the other fruits of our captivitie, and taken the place of a Prince, lest there should be roome left for a Tyrant. And when I looke in­to your wisdome I lesse wonder at your shunning or moderating those mortall and frayle titles, for you know wherein the true and eternall glory of a Prince consists, and where those honours are, over which no flames, no time, no successours have power. For trium­phall Arches and Statues; nay even Altars and Temples oblivion ru­ines and obscures, posterity neglects and censures. Contrarily the contemner of ambition, the conquerour and brideler of unlimited power the minde flourisheth in age, nor is by any more extolled, then by those whom it cannot advantage, the succeeding times. A Prince therefore should not covet fame which is eternall, for that he needs must have, but which is good; and that is perpetuated, not by Images and Statues, but by virtue and merit. But these trifles, the forme and figure of a Prince, are not expressed so lively and venera­bly in gold or silver, as in the hearts of men, wherein you are engra­ven to the life, your amiable lookes and cheerefull aspect being printed in the tongues, eyes and soules of all men. I conceive your Lordships have already taken notice that I make no choice of my discourse, for my designe is to prayse the Prince, not the Prince's a­ctions; for the evill doe many things prayse-worthy, but the man himselfe cannot be praysed, unlesse he be excellently good. There­fore, dread Soveraigne, you have no glory greater, then that in the presentation of our thanks we neede to conceale nothing, to omit nothing. For what is there in your reigne that any speaker should disguise or passe it over? For what moment, nay what point of time hath beene fruitlesse in benefits, or void of glory? Are not all of such a nature, that hee appeares to prayse you best, that speakes truth most sincerely. Which is the reason that my Oration growes almost boundlesse, and yet I have not gone through your second yeare. How much have I spoken of your moderation, and yet how much more remaines! as that of receiving your second Consulship, [Page 33] because the Prince yourIn Trajan's first Consulship (under Domiti­an) his Col­legue was Gla­brio, in his se­cond Consul­ship the Emp [...] Nerva his a­dopted Father Vitruvius. Father conferred it. But after the Gods had transferred the Soveraigne power to you, and with all other things the free disposall of your selfe, you refused a third Consulship, when you knew so well how to discharge the office. It is a great act to wave honour, a greater to put off glory. Should I admire your Consulship executed, or refused. Executed not upon idle Couches, and in the private bosome of peace here in towne, but upon the borders ofGermany. barbarous Nations, asThat were both Consuls and Generals. those were wont to doe that used to change the long purple Robe, for the short purple Cassocke, and to discover unknowne lands by victories. It was honourable for the Empire, glorious for your selfe, when our confederates made their addresses to you, in their owne Country, in their owne habitations. How comely shewed the Consul's face, when for a long time his tribunall was erected upon the living turfe, nor attended with ourThe Axe in the midst of the bundle of rods, still borne by the Lectors, be­fore the Con­sul, signifying the different pu­nishment of capitall and pet­ty offenders. fasces only, but with the honour of ourJavelins hea­ded with a tri­angular iron of nine ounces, a weapon peculi­ar to the Roman Foote. Piles and Ensignes. The Majestie of the Judge, was increased by the various habits of Petitioners; and diversity of language, scarce any speaking but by his interpreter. 'Tis magnificent to give the law to your Subjects, what to the enemie! It shewes gloriously to heare causes in the settled peace of the Forum, what then to set theAn Ivory Chaire, which because when the Consul or Pretour went abroad, it was carried along in a Chariot, was called Sella Cu­rulis, the Curule or Chariot-chaire. Curule chaire in wild Campanias, on the ground which you had conquered? and to overlooke the threatning banks of Danubi­us safe and quiet? what to despise the fury of Barbarians, and to checke their hostile terrour, not more with the show of armes, then of gownes. Nor did our legions reverence you only in yourThe first Cohort ever bore in their sheilds the Emperours Image. Vegetius. images, but saluted the Generall himselfe, that saw and heard them; and that name which others deserved for conquering, you merited for despi­sing of the enemie. That is the praise of your executed; and this of your adjourned Consulship, that it was the beginning of your reigne, so as now full of, and therefore excused from honour, you were in­forced to refuse the Consulship, which our new Emperours, when others have beene elected, tooke unto themselves. There was one, that in the end of his reigne, had such a longing to the place, as when theI suppose he meanes the Consulship of Traian's first Collegue, M. Acilius Glabrio, whom Domitian banished, and him­selfe supplied his place. Consulship was almost ended he wrested the remainder into his owne hands. This honour therefore, which both at their beginning and ending Princes so covet, that they snatch it away, you (when the place was void) left toMaking Consuls C. Socius Senecio 11. and A. Cornelius Palma. Vitru­vius. private men. Was it that [Page 34] you envyed Trajan the third Consulship, or the Prince the first? For the second, 'tis true, that when you had it you were an Empe­rour, but yet under an Emperour, and therein you can attribute to your selfe nothing, either of honour or example, but in your obedi­ence. So then in this City, which hath seene the same men the fifth and sixt time Consuls, not such as were in our expiring liberty, crea­ted by force and tumult, but such, as retired andSuch as L. Quintius Cin­cinnatus (who Pliny presently names) whō being at worke in his grounds be­yond Tyber was by messengers from the peo­ple of Rome sa­luted Dictator. absent, had the Consulship brought into the Country to them; In this very City, have you, being Prince of mankinde, refused a third Consulshippe. WasL Papyrius for his unparalleld strength & agility of body surnamed Cur­sor, was yet the most moderate man that lived, most favorable to the weaknesses of others. This is the Pa­pyrius whom L [...]vy endevours to prove able to have encountred Alexander, [...]f he had attempted the con­quest of the W [...]st. Papirius himselfe, or Quintius more moderate? Augustus and Caesar, and Father of your Country. But the Republique called them, what you? did not the same Republique? did not the Senate, did not the very Consulship, that conceives it selfe advanced and made greater by your acceptation. I doe not setDion, In Do­mitian, sayes, he was so foo­lishly proud that he made himselfe Consul [which Office ought but to continue for one yeare] ten years toge­ther. him for your pa­tern, who by his continued Consulship, made a kind of long and un­distinguishable yeare, but I compare you to those who (we are sure) as oft as they were Consuls, were not so with relation to themselves. There was in the SenateVirginius Rufus, who was Consul the third time with N [...]rva, and being designed for his fourth Consulship by Trajan died before he was declared. one that had thrice been Consul, when you refused your third Consulship. A heavy taske our votes would have imposed upon your modesty, that you the Prince should be as often Consul, as your Senatour; The refusall whereof would have argued too much bashfulnesse, even when you were a private man, the sonne of a Consular and a tryumphant Father: when hee a third time is created Consul, doth hee ascend? is it not his due? yea though he could pleade no other merit, but the nobilitie of his birth. Pri­vate persons therefore had the honour to open theThe Romans dated their Records and Deedes from Consulships, as we doe from kings Reignes, and the Consuls began with the yeare, in January. yeare, and to un­lock theThe Roman Kalender began with the Consuls names, proceeded with the Festivals, & Court dayes, which properly were the Fasti. Kalender, and this likewise was an instance of liberty re­stored, that another was Consul, and not Caesar. Thus the Tyrants being expelled, the free yeare beganne, thus heretofore, servitude shaken off, our Kalender was inscribed with the names of private men. Miserable they were in their ambition that continued their Consulshippes like their Principalitie, yet seemes it not to be more their ambition, then their envy and malignitie, to ingrosse to them­selves all yeares, and not to put off that supreame ornament of the purple, but when it was worne and soiled like their old robes. But in you, which shall I first admire, magnanimity, or modestie, or [Page 35] bounty, It was magnanimity to absteine from an honour so much affected by Princes, modesty to wave it, bounty to enjoy it by o­thers. But now it is time that you do a favour to the Consulship it selfe, that by undertaking to mannage it, you may make it greater; for still to refuse, would beare an ambiguous interpretation, and ra­ther signifie, that you thought it too meane. It is true, you re­fused it as the greatest, but none will be so perswaded, unlesse sometimes you will likewise not refuse it. When you excuse your selfe from triumphall Arches, from Trophies, from statues we may par­don your modesty, for indeede those are dedicated to your selfe: But we now make it our suite, that you will teach future Princes to re­nounce idlenesse, a while to adjourne their pleasures, awhile, at least for a little while, to awake out of their slumber of felicity, to put on our pretexted purple, (which when they should have bestowed they have invaded) and to ascend the Sella Curulis, [the Chariot tribunall] which 'tis fit they should possesse; lastly, to be indeed what they have coveted to seeme, not to desire the name of Consul only for the name. You have discharged a second Consulshippe, I know it, but that you may alleage, as a favour to our Armies, to our Provin­ces, to forreyne nations, not to us. We have heard indeed, you have done all that concerns the office of a Consul, but wee have heard; It is reported you were most just, most gratious, most pati­ent, but it is reported. 'Tis fit, that sometimes we should credit our owne judgment, our owne eyes, not alwaies fame and rumor. How long absent from one another shall we joy in you, give us leave to make triall, whether that second Consulshippe have put no pride in­to you. Halfe a yeare hath much influence upon the manners of men, much more of Princes. Indeed, we say he that hath one ver­tue hath all, yet we desire a proofe, whether once againe a good Consul and a good Prince be one and the same thing. For besides the difficulty of mannageing two, and both of them soveraigne powers, there is likewise diversity in the powers themselves, for that may become a Prince, which a Consul must not doe. But I see the cheefest reason that moved you, next yeare, to refuse the Consulshippe, was, that you could not discharge it in your absence; but now being restored to the Citty and our publicke wishes, wherein can you clearlyer shew us, what and how great the blessing was, that we desired? It were little favour to Come into the Senate, unlesse you please to assemble it, to be present, unlesse president, to heare us passe our votes, unlesse you would give sentence. Would [Page 36] you as our Consul, in time restore to i'ts majesty, that dread Tribu­nall? ascend. Would you have awefulnesse in the Magistrate, autho­rity in the Lawes and modesty in the Petulant? sit in person in the Senate. For so much as it would have concerned our Republike if you were a private man, not to have you only our Consull unlesse you likewise were a Senator, so much it concernes your selfe not to be only our Prince, unlesse you likewise be our Consull. With these so many and prevalent reasons though our Prince's modesty long strug­led, yet at last it yielded; but how? not to equall himselfe with private men, but to make private men his equalls. For he a third time received the Consulship, that he might a third time give it; for he knew mens moderation, he knew their bashfullnesse that would not indure a third time to be Consuls, unlesse a third time he were Consul with them. Anciently this honour was bestowed and that sparingly upon adjutants to Generalls, and partners in their dan­gers,Vide sis (m) which you have given to two particular men, that indeed have served you faithfully and valiantly, but in the gowne. Both their cares both their industryes have layed an obligation Caesar upon you; but in a Prince 'tis rare and seldome heard of, to think himselfe obli­ged, or thinking so to love. You therefore, Caesar, owe and pay, but when a third time you make Consuls, you thinke not in so doing, that you are a great Prince, but that you are not an ingratefull freind. Nay even the low deservings of your subjects you raise higher by the supremacy of your fortune, for you make every one thought to have done you service according to the greatnesse of your retribution. What prayers shall I make for such benignity? but that you may ever oblige, ever be obliged, and leave it doubtfull whether it were more expedient for your subjects to be your debters, or to have you theirs. Truly methought I saw that ancient Senate, when one thrice Consul sitting, one a third time designed Consul stood to desire suf­frages. As great as they were then, so great are you. It happens in­deed that bodies though vast and high, approaching higher bodies then themselves, decrease, in like manner the greatest subjects dig­nities compared with your greatnesse, loose their height, and the nea­rer they ascend to your elevation, the more they seeme to descend from their owne. Yet those, which though you would you could not raise to your owne height, you have yet placed so conspicuous­ly, as they appear as much above others, as below you: If a third time you had made one Consul in the same yeare with your selfe, it had argued a great soule. For as it is a declaration of felicity to have [Page 37] as much power as will, so it is of greatnesse to have as much will, as power. Even he is to be praysed I must confesse, that merited a third Consulshippe, but he more under whom 'twas merited; he must be great and worthy of a history that received so great a retribution, but he much greater that bestowed it. What shall I say that in the yeare of your third Consulshippe you honouredM. Corneliu Fronto was Consul the third time when Traian entered upon his owne third Consulship; but who the other was, appeares not to my read­ing. two by making them Collegues to your Sacred Majesty. That none can doubt, but it was your only reason for proroguing of your Consulshippe, that it might containe the Consulshippe of both, and make you awhole yeare Collegue to one of them. Both received their second Consulshipps from your father, that is, how much was that honour lesse, then what you give! Their but now resigned fasces wandred yet before both their eies, that solemne cry of their late ushering Lictours rung yet in both their eares, when the chariot chayre, when the purple came againe. As of old at the enemys approach, when the Repub­lick brought to extremitie, required a knowne man of honour, we restored not the men to their Consulshipps, but restored the very Consulshipps unto the men. Such is the power of your goodnesse, that necessity and your bountie are excused from the orders of the house. They have just now put off their pretexted purples, they must on with them againe, the Lictours were but now dismissed, they must be called backe. Is this the nature of a man? the power of a man? to renue our joyes, to revive our Iubily, and to give no rest to our gratulations, nor to suffer a further intervall of reattaining the Consulshipps, then the very instant time of resignation. This may you ever do, nor may your mind or fortune ever be wearied in this action. May you give third Consulships to many, and when you have given them to many, may there remaine still more that deserve them at your hands. In all the benefits that are bestowed upon de­servers the joy is not more their owne, then theirs that are of like de­serts; but from the Consulships of these two not to any particulars, but to all the Senate flowed so great joy as they conceived the same honour bestowed upon and received by themselves. For indeed these were they that the Senate first elected, when they chose men to bring downe the publike expenses. This is it therefore, this is it that so much indeared them to Caesar. Have we not lately made too many trialls, that the Senate's judgement could with the Prince do neither good nor harme. A little while a go was any thing more fatall, then if the Prince had that way a suspicion? This man the Senate approves of, this is in favour with the Senate, he hated [Page 38] our favourites, and we his. Now the Prince and Senate contend which should most love worthy persons, and indeare each other we make mutuall remonstrances, we give mutuall evidence, and which is the greatest argument of our mutuall affection we both love the same. Therefore, my Lords, publish your affections, and af­fect with constancy. You neede not dissemble your good opinion now for feare it hurt your selves, nor conceale your dislike lest it profit others. For Caesar liketh and disliketh with the Senate. When you are present, when you are absent, he adviseth with you, he made those thrice Consuls whom you had elected, and made them so, as they were elected by you. Both his favours appeare great, whether he love those best whom he knowes dearest to us, or preferres none before them, though he may love some better. Rewards are proposed to old men, examples to young men: they may at length freely goe and give visits at their friends secure and open houses, every one welcomes the men that are in esteeme with the Senate; such a one most deserves the Prince, for he thinks the honour that is done to any good man, done unto him­selfe, nor placeth he any glory in being greater then all, unlesse they also be great that must confesse him greater. Caesar, continue in the reason of that resolution, and esteeme us such as every ones fame is; To that vouchsafe your eare and eye, regard not clandestine estima­tions and whispers, that do intrappe none sooner, then such as listen to them. 'Tis better confiding in generalls then particulars. For parti­culars may cosen and be Cosened; none hath deceived all, all have deceived none. I now returne to your Consulship, though many things there be appertaining, yet antecedent to it. First that you were present at your Election, not only asThe Candi­dati (so named from their white or chalked gownes which they wore in the E­lection time) were thos [...] [...]hat stood in com­p [...]ior for Offices. from h [...]re Quin [...]i [...]an drawes his M [...]phor when he calls a Schollar a Candidate of Eloquence; but his Schollar Pliny goes higher here, and calls Tra­jan a Candi­date of Immor­tality, and Glo­ry, and Exam­ple. Candidate of the Con­sulship, but of immortality, and glory, and example; which good Princes cannot but imitate, nor evill but admire. The people of Rome behold you in thatThe Justice-hall wherein stood the Tri­bun all erected on high lik [...] our Pulpits, and within that was set the curule or chariot chaire of Ivory. place of their antient power, where you patiently endured those tediousDoubtlesse he meanes the prayers or Hymnes at E­lection, which were (by Insti­tute) to be read by the president of the Assemblies; this appeares clearely towards the end of the Pa­negyrick, where he saies, You vouchsafed to be President at our Election, and to read unto us those most sacred Verses. verses read before Election, and that now not fained nor ridiculous demurr, & you were made Consul after the same manner as you make one of us. Where was a Prince among your Predecessors that either did that honour to the Consul­shippe, or to the people? Did not others dull with sleepe andAs Nero, who (sayes Suet Tranquillus) spunne out his dinner from noone­day to midnight; this fat Montanus remembred Juv. Sat. 4. Who th'old court-riot knew And Nero's mid-nights and a hunger new When Falerne wine inflam'd the lights— over­cloyed [Page 39] with their last nights supper, make the messengers of their Election waite?As Caligula who stept not above; houres a night, and Domitian, who walkt much in the night time, whom all that followes here concernes, as you may see by naming of Da­nubius and the Rheyne, incestu­ous nights &c. Others waking indeed, and sleeplesse, but within the walls of their bed-chambers ploting the banishment, and mur­ther of those very Consuls that declared them Consuls. O de­praved ambition and ignorant of true Majestie! to covet the honour thou so disdaignest, to disdaigne the honour thou so covetest; and when out of thy gardens thou seest the feilds and the Election, yet to be so absent from them, as if thou wert to passe a ford in Danubi­us, or the Rhene! Dost thou hate the suffrages of thy desired ho­nour? and being contented to have newes brought of thy Consul­shippe wilt thou not permit a free Citty to dissemble bondage? lastly, dost thou conceale and hide thy selfe from the Election, as if they were not to give thee a Consulshippe, but to deprive thee of thy Empire? Our proudest Lords had this perswasion, that they ceased to be Princes, if they did any thing like a Senatour Yet many kept away not so much out of pride, as out of feare, whether (being guilty of adulterous and incestuous nights,) they might presume to pollute the auguryes and with their wicked feet to contaminate the sacredCampus Mar­tius, the Electi­on place con­secrated to the God Mars. Feilds. They had not heaven and earth in such contempt, as in that spatious plaine they durst stand the darted eyes of men and Gods. On the contrary your moderation perswades you to be pre­sent, both when religion is to be excercised towards the Gods and sentence passed by men. Others before they received, but you me­rited the Consulshippe in your very manner of receiving it; the so­lemne forme was needlesse if you had considered you selfe as a Prince, and now the assembly was dissolving, when you (to the a­mazement of us all) came vp to the Consuls Chayre, offering your selfe to take theThe matter of the oath taken by the Consul is expressed in the the words fol­lowing, viz. that he devoted his head and his house to the wrath of heaven, if (during the yeare of his Consul­ship) he did any thing contrary to Law. oath in words unknowne to Princes, but when they inforced others to sweare. You see how necessary it was, not to refuse, for we should never have imagined you would have done it, if you had refused the Consulshippe. My Lords, I am asto­nished, nor can yet sufficiently credit my owne eies or eares, but now and then I question my selfe if I have truly heard and seene it. OurThe Ro­man Empe­rours were in­vested in the Titles of Caesar Augustus Pontifex Maximus, and had Tribunician and Proconsular power annexed to their crownes. Emperour, and Caesar, and Augustus, and Pontifex Maxi­mus rose up, and the Consull sate while the Prince stood before him, and sate untroubled unmoved, and as if he had beene accustom­ed so to doe. Nay sitting he administred the Oath, and the Prince tooke it, and clearely uttered words wherein he devoted his head [Page 40] & his house to the Gods wrath, if his Oath were violated. Your glo­ry, Caesar, is mighty and the same whether future Princes shall or shall not do it, what words are worthy to expresse, that you would doe the same the third time, as when you first were Consul! the same when a Prince as when a private man, the same when an Emperour as when a Subject to an Emperor. Now I confesse I know not what was most be comming, that you should doe it without or with aThe eare of antiquity in things sacred, was so great that they ordai­ned a prompter or one that should reade it softly to those that were to pronounce it cleerely, as you may perceive by the great Lady that made her offring for the fidler. Juv. Sa [...]. 6. She stood at th'Al­tar, as the man­ner is. And spake the prompted words of Sacri­fice. prompter. In the Forum likewise you subjected your selfe to the Lawes which no Legislator ever made for Princes. But you will have your priviledge no greater then a Subjects, therefore we will have it greater then an Emperours. This is the first time I ever heard, the first I ever knew; we have noFor he hath descended to be a Consul. Prince, we have Lawes, but LawesBecause as Consul he had subjected him­selfe by Oath unto the Lawes above the Prince; Caesar the Consul may not do what others may, he sweares to observe the Lawes in presence of the Gods (for where are they more present then with Caesar?) hee sweares in presence of the men that are to sweare the same, nor is he ignorant that none ought more religiously to keepe his oath, then he that is most concerned not to breake it. And therefore when you were to resigne your Consulship, you made oath you had done nothing contrary to Law. It was a great act to make such a promise, but a greater to performe it, Then to go so often to our Courts of Justice, in the Forum, and make a new path to that place unascended by the pride of Princes, there to receive, there to lay down your Magistracie, how worthy your self, how different was it from their customes, by whom their for a few daies exercised (nay unexercised) Consulship was disclaimed by Edict! The like they did for the convention of Senate, for the Tribunall, for the Oath, that so the last might be agreeable to the first, and they only known to have beene Consuls, because others were not. My Lords, I have not pas­sed over our Princes Consulship, but I have brought together unto this one place all that concerned his Oath. For we must not as in a barren subject, spinne out and scatter the same species of praise, and handle one thing twice. In the glorious dawning of the first day of your third Consulshippe, when you came unto the Senate, now se­verallie, now universallie you encouraged us all to resume our liber­tie, to take upon us, as it were, the care of the common Empire, to be vigilant and intend the publique benefit. All before you said the very selfe same things, but none before you was beleeved. There was yet floating in our eyes the shipwracks of many Senatours, whom (flattered with such promised Calmes) a sudden storme had sunke. For what Sea so faithlesse as theYou read in Domitian's Character (the words are Dion's) he ever seemed to love him most, whose bloud he most desi­red. smiles of those Princes, that [Page 41] had so much seeming lenity, so much reall cunning, as it was easier to have them angry then propitious! But secure and chearefull we exe­cute whatsoever you command. You bid us use our freedome, we take it; you bid us speake our thoughts, we doe it; nor have we o­mitted it out of any habituall sloath or naturall dulnesse; It was ter­rour, and feare, and that miserable wisedome taught by dangers, that from the Common-wealth (but it was indeed no Common-wealth) made us turne our eies, our eares, and hearts. But now strengthened by your hand, and relying on your promises, we open our lips so long lockt up in servitude, and let loose our tongues bridled in with so ma­ny dangers. For you would have us such as you bid us be; in your encou­ragements nothing is dissembled, or betraying; in short, nothing contri­ved to undoe the credulous, not without danger to the contriver, for never yet was Prince deceived, but he himselfe had first deceived o­thers. In this sence I understood our publike parent, when I observed his Hortatives, and the energy of his pronunciation. For what im­ported that weight of sentences! How inaffected was the truth of his words! What asseveration in his accent! What affirmation in his looke! What confirmation in his eies, habit, meene, lastly in his whole body! He therefore will be alwaies mindfull of what he hath incou­raged us unto, and will remember that as often as we use the liberty he gave us, we doe but his commands. Nor will he hold them to be unwise that confide in the freedome of these times, when he knew them to have done otherwise under a bad Prince. We used to pray for preservation of the Empire, and the subject, nay for preservation of Emperours, and for their sakes of the Empire. We yet pray for the Empire in the same words, with these (worthy to be noted) added to them, if you governe the Republicke well and for the bene­fit of all. Vowes for ever to be owed, for ever to be paid. The Re­publicke, Caesar, hath made a Covenant with the Gods of your owne drawing, that their deities should keepe you in peace and safety, if you kept others so. If otherwise, that they should draw away their eies from the guard of your person, and leave you to such praiers as are not made in publike. Other Princes wished and endevoured to survive the Republicke, to you your owne health and safety is un­pleasing, if it goe not along with the common health and safety. You suffer no prayer to be made for you, unlesse expedient for those that pray it, and solemnely every yeare you call a court of Gods (your E­lectours) to give sentence against you, if you cease to be such as you were when they elected you. Thus with a great and immaculate [Page 42] soule you article with the Gods to give you the protection you de­serve, knowing the Gods are the best Judges of your merit. Doe you thinke, my Lords, that day and night he considers not these, his owne words, Truly if the generall good should so require, I have armed a­gainst my selfe the very hand of the L. Licinius Su­ra from a Centurion, made Praefect of Praetorians by Traian, to whō, when he put the sword in his hand, Tra­ian said, Take this, and if I go­verne well use it for me, if all, a­gainst me. And truly I doe not wonder at this personall confi­dence in one he so dearely loved (as you will see before the end of the Panegy­ricke) when I consider Tra­ian's nature, & how fa re he trusted the very servants of Sura even when Su­ra himselfe was calumniated by some other of the Emperours freinds; for e­ven then Traian dismissing his guard, went to Sura's house, to supper, and calling first for Sura's Phisitiō made him wash his eies, then sent for his barber and he sha­ved his beard, and next day told those freinds that su­spected Sura, that if he had meant to kill him he would undoubtedly have done it yesterday. Dion. Captaine of my Guard, nor doe I either deprecate the anger of the Gods, or pray for their connivance, nay I pray that I may command him nothing prejudiciall to the Empire, or if I doe, that he may not obey it; Therefore you, Caesar, reape the glo­rious fruit of safety by the Gods consent, for when you condition the Gods should preserve you so long as you governe well, you are sure you governe well so long as they preserve you. To you there­fore shall the day be joyfull and secure, that distracted other Princes with cares and feares, when in suspence and astonishment, not confi­dent of our patience, from this and that place they expected messen­gers of the publike servitude; and if by chance the waters, winds, or snow, had hindred them, presently they suspected what they had de­served. Nor did their feare make any difference of persons; for when by an evill Prince every worthy man is feared as a successour, there being none but worthier, all must needs be feared. Your security no slow­nesse of messengers, no stoppe of letters can suspend; you know that every where men are sworne and bound to serve you, because you have sworn & bound your selfe to protect them. No one but respects his owne good. Indeed we love you for your deserts, yet still we love you not for your sake, but our owne. Nor ever, Caesar, shall we see the day wherein our loyalty more then our benefit shall engage our prayers. Protection for their owne interest would derogate from Princes. Let us now put the question why no Prin­ces looke into these secret thoughts of ours, but onely those we love not; for if the good observed us as attentively as the bad, what joy, what exultation, what admiration of your selfe would you find every where! what discourses of you even among women and chil­dren in their private houses, sitting by their fires! you would know we spare your tender eares, and that love and hate being contraries yet in this agree that we love good Princes more intemperate­ly, after we have more freely hated bad ones. Yet you have had ex­perience both of our affection and opinion, as much as could be ex­pressed in your presence, that day when you so prevented the trou­ble and blushes of the Candidates, that no mans joy was encountered with anothers sorrow; some went off the feild with pleasure, others with hope, many were to be gratulated, none to be comforted. Nor [Page 43] did you therefore slowlier incourage our youth to stand for the Con­fulship, to supplicate the Senate, and so to hope for honours from the Prince by their addresses to the Senate. And if any want an example you have proposed your selfe to his imitation. A hard ex­ample, Caesar, no more imitable by Candidates, then by Princes. For what Candidate is more observant of the Senate for a day, then you are for your life time, and then especially when you are to judge of Candidates? Hath any thing but that reverence you beare the Se­nate, moved you to offer honours to our youth, due to their noble families, but paid before the day? At length therefore Nobility is not obscured, but illustrated, by the Prince. At length, Caesar nor terrifies, nor feares those nephewes of great men, those Descendents of Liber­ty, but amplifies and heightens them with early honours, and restores them to their Ancestours. If there be any branch of an ancient stock, he cherishes and brings it forth for the use of the Republicke. Great names are now in honour with men, and fame recovered out of the darkenesse of oblivion by Caesar's goodnesse, which hath a property to preserve and make Nobility. There was aTreasurer of a Province. Questour of a Province among the Candidates, by whose care and industry a great City had established their revenues by an excellent constitution, this you your selfe in his behalfe thought fit to alleadge unto the Senate. For in the reigne of our Prince whose virtue excells the greatnesse of his birth, why should they be in a worse condition that deserve a noble Poste­rity, then they that have had noble Ancestours? O you most worthy for ever thus to encourage our Magistrates, nor doe you make men good by the punishment of vice, but by the reward of virtue. Our youth is enflamed and spirited to emulate what they see you praise. Nor could any one be otherwise, when he knew whatsoever was done abroad in the Provinces came entirely to your knowledge. 'Tis advantageous (Caesar) for the Governours of Provinces to be confi­dent there is prepared for their piety and industry the greatest re­ward, their Princes love and suffrage. But heretofore sincere and just natures were, though not depraved, yet extreamely dulled and cast downe, with a miserable but true reputation. For what difference, whether Caesar know not my good actions, or know but will not take notice of them. This very negligence or malignity of Princes, when it gave impunity to the evill, and promised no advancement to the good, deterred not those from vice, yet deterred these from ho­nour. But now if any one governe his Province well, the dignity won by his merit is offered him; for to all li [...] [...]en a field of honour and [Page 42] [...] [Page 43] [...] [Page 44] glory, out of which every man may reape his wishes, and having reaped possesse them. You have likewise, for the future, freed our Provinces from the feare of injury, and necessity of accusations; for they that give thanks to their Governours cannot possibly complain against them, and then the Candidate knowes, nothing can sooner advance him for the future, then the good discharge of his past Ma­gistracie. Magistracie by Magistracie, honour is wonne by honour. I would not have Governours of Provinces to bring us the hands of their friends, or flattering Petitions signed by courted persons, but to shew the Decrees of Colonies, the Decrees of Cities; That Cities, Countries and Nations may not come to mixe their suffrages with ours. The most efficacious way of petitioning for a Candidate will be to give him thanks. Now with what unanimous joy it affected the Senate, that still as you named a Candidate, you met and kissed him, comming downe into the fields as one that joyed them. Shall I more admire you, or despise them who have made this favour seeme so great? When nailed as it were to their Curule chaires, they only vouchsafed their hand, and that slowe and stately, as if it were a ne­ver to be deserved honour. A strange sight therefore was presented to our eyes, a Prince and a Candidate standing on even ground, no difference betweene the receiver of honour and the giver. Which act of yours with what unfained acclamations was it celebrated by the whole Senate! You were so much more great, so much more sa­cred still; For he that is supreame hath only one way of rising higher, if he submit himselfe, secure of his own greatnesse. Nor is there a­ny thing that lesse endangers a Prince's fortunes, then humilitie. To me, I must confesse, your humanity seemed not so rare as the way wherein you expressed it. Because when your eyes, your voice, your hand were taken up with your Oration, yet as if you had com­manded another to speake it for you, you omitted not the least cir­cumstance of civility. Nay, when the names of the voted were to be approved of, you were one of the approvers, and out of the Princes mouth passed the suffrage of a Senatour. And we that formerly re­joyced if the Prince would take our testimony, the Prince's testimo­ny was now given to us. Therefore while you affirmed the men to be deserving, you made them so. Nor did you only approve of their virtues, but of their election by the Senate, whose joy, even theirs, which you had praised, exceeded not. Your very prayer, that the ordination of Magistrates might well and happily succeede, was it not a prayer for your selfe? ought we not to pay back those wishes? [Page 45] and lastly to beseech the Gods, that all you doe, or shall doe, may be prosperous to you, the Commonwealth, and us, or (to abbreviate the wish) to you alone, in whom both the Commonwealth and we subsist? There was a time (and too long a time) when the Prince's and our felicity and infelicity were contraries, with you we now communicate both joy and griefe; nor could we any more be happy without you, then you could without us, and if you could, you had not (in the close of your prayers) added, that the Gods would be so propitious to your vowes, as you persevered to merit our opinions. So primarilie sacred is your Subjects love in your esteeme, that we are in the first place, then the Gods; and you only desire the Gods may love you, in case you be beloved by us. And truely former Princes ends have taught us, that the Gods love them not, unlesse men love them. 'Twas hard to equall this love of yours with prai­ses, yet we have equalled it. What heate of love, what fire, what flame raised in us those acclamations? It was not (Caesar) the voice of our affection, but the voice of your merits, of your virtues, such as no flatterie e're invented, no terrour ever yet expressed. Whom have we so loved thus to counterfeit? Whom have we so loved thus declare our selves? You know the necessity of servitude, when did you heare any thing of this kind? When did you speake any thing like unto it? feare hath a great and quick invention, but such as ap­peares done unwillinglie. Feare hath one kind of wit, security ano­ther; the invention of the dejected differs from that of the cheere­full, and that of the dissembler from them both: the miserable have their dialect, the happy theirs, all proper and peculiar to themselves. Witnesse your selfe, what joy in each mans countenance! neither the habit of the body, nor the habit of the mind the same it was. Hence it was that all our houses were made vocall, no place so secret so barricadoed, that kept out the clamor. Who then leaped not over his threshold? who was sensible that he did so? many things we did voluntarilie, many things by instinct and compulsion (for even joy it selfe hath a compulsory power.) Was your modesty able to limit our exultation? No; for the more you strove to quench it, the more it flamed, not out of contumacie, but as it is in your power whether we shall rejoyce, so it is not in our powers how much. You your selfe testified the faith of our acclamations, with the truth of your teares. We saw your eyes moistned, We saw you blushing for joy, with so much blood in your cheekes, as you had modestie in your heart, and this more inflamed our zeale to pray, that you might never want [Page 46] the same cause of teares, never be lesse out of countenance. Let us to these benches, as if they could answere, put the question; have they ever seene a Prince's teares? the Senates teares they have seene often; you have burthened future Princes, and undone our po­sterity, for they likewise will expect that Princes should deserve like acclamations, and Princes will be offended that they doe not heare them. The world can speake nothing more proper to your merit, then what was spoken by the whole Senate. O happy you, which we said not in admiration of your fortune, but of your mind. For it is true felicity to appeare worthy of felicitie. But, that day many things were spoken wisely and gravely, this especially, Credit us, Credit your selfe. We spake this with a mighty confidence in our selves, but more in you; for one may deceive another, but no one himselfe, let him but looke into his life and aske himselfe what he deserves. Besides, these very expressions gave us credit with the best Prince which discredited us with the bad, for though we beha­ved our selves affectionately towards them, yet they beleeved them­selves they could not be beloved. Againe we prayed the Gods might so love you as you love us: Who would pray thus upon a mode­rate affection either to themselves, or to their Prince? We desired no greater good, but that the Gods would love us, as you doe. Is't not true, that with these acclamations we intermixed, O happy Wee! for what can be happier then we are, that have now no need to wish our Prince may love us, but the Gods equall with our Prince. This religiously devoted City, alwaies piously dependent on heaven's providence, conceives her happinesse cannot bee increased, unlesse the Gods please to imitate Caesar. But why doe I follow or collect particulars, as if either my speech could containe, or my memory comprehend them. Which, lest they should be intercepted by obli­vion, your Lordships have commanded they should be put into our publique Records, and likewise graven in brasse. Heretofore Prin­ces Orations only had such monuments, but our acclamations were still inclosed within the walls of the Senate-house, for they were such as neither Senate nor Prince could glory in. But that these acclamati­ons should come to the cares of all men living, and be transmitted to posterity, will suite both the publique benefit and dignity. First, that the whole world may know and be witnesse to our pietie, then that it may appeare we dare censure both good and evill Princes in their life time; Lastly, that we may experimentally demonstrate, that we have formerly beene gratefull but unfortunate, not being suffered to [Page 47] expresse our gratitude. But with what contention, what earnestnes, what clamor did we move you, that you would not let our affections nor your merits be suppressed? Briefly that they might be left as an example to the future, that Princes might learne to distinguish true acclamations from false, and bee obliged to you for the discovery. Princes now are not to begin the way to good fame, but not to devi­ate from it, not to remove flattery, but not to reduce it. They have a certaine rule what they shall doe, and what they shall heare when 'tis done. Besides these prayers wherein the Senate have joyned with me, what shall I now pray for the Senate? May that joy ever be inherent in your Soule, which then floated in your eyes. May you love that day, but be the cause of one more joyfull; may you deserve againe, and heare againe (for the same words cannot bee uttered but for the same actions.) Then how like old Rome it was, how Consu­lar; that the Senate by your example sate three daies together, and all that time you only executed the office of a Consul? Every one might put to the question what he pleased, it was free for any to dis­sent, to retract his judgement, to bestow his advice upon the Com­monwealth, we were all consulted, all numbred; not the first votes carried it, but the best. But heretofore who durst speake, who durst open his lippes; save only those wretches that were first required to speake? the rest dejected and astonished, did they not suffer a seden­tarie necessitie of assenting with griefe of Soule and horror of the flesh? One alone passed Sentence, all complied with what they hated as unjust, and especially he that did pronounce it; nothing so much displeasing a generalitie, as that which is done (against their wills) as if it were generally approved of. Some Emperour, haply for respect to the Senate brideled himselfe in this house, but no soo­ner out of it, but he resumed the Princes power, scorning and dis­claiming all offices of a Consul. But our Prince was Consul, as if he had beene nothing else, and thought nothing below himselfe, un­lesse it were below the Consul, and so appeared in publique as that he brought no shew of State, noDomitian was ushered with 24 Lictors ushering tumult crowded up his way, he only stayed at doore to consult theThe observa­tion of the flight & chirp­ing of Byrds was one part of the duty of the Augur, who sat with his face to the East in his Laena (a gowne lined with furres, and bor­dered with pur­ple & crimson) and having quartered the heavens into re­gions, observed from whence the Byrds ap­peared, and pro­nounced not good fortune without two lucky signes, but evill for­tune with one unlucky token of all the Ro­man Priests he only could not loose his office during life. birds, and take admo­nitions from the Gods; none was disturbed, none thrust aside; the passenger had so much freedome, the Lictours were so modest, that oftentimes a crowd of strangers stopt both Prince and Consul: nay he himselfe was so moderate in his office, so well tempered as we thought we saw the comportment of some ancient and great Con­sul under the shape of a good Prince. He went often to the Forum, [Page 48] but frequently to Marses fields, for he himselfe discharged the Consuls office at the election of Consuls, and tooke as much plea­sure to declare them, as formerly he had done to be created. The Candidates stood before the Curule chaire of the Prince, as he had stood before the Consuls, and the oath was given to them which had beene lately taken by the Prince, who knowes the tye of that oath to be so great that hee requires it of others. The remainder of the day he spent in the Tribunal, and there, how great a Religion of e­quitie! how great a reverence of the Lawes! some made addresses to the Prince, he answered that he was the Consul. The right of no Office, no ones authoritie was by him lessened, increased it was, for he referred many to theJudges of Rome in the nature of our Lords chiefe Justices. Praetours by the name of his Colleagues, not because it would be popular and pleasing to the hearers, but be­cause he so accounted them: hee acknowledged so much honour in that place, that hee esteemed it no more for one to be stiled the Princes Colleague, then Praetour. Besides he sate so frequentlie in the Tribunal, that he seemed to be new spirited and refresh't with labor. Which of us hath taken the same care, the same paines? such longed-for honours who either attends or merits. And truely 'tis fit hee should thus exceede all Consuls, that makes Consuls, for otherwise he should be unworthy of his fortune, if he could give honours, and could not manage them. When he makes Consuls he instructs them, and when they are made teaches them to know that he understands what hee gives, that they may likewise know what they receive. Therefore, with more justice the Senate beseeches and commands you to accept of the fourth Consulshippe, 'tis the suite of the Em­pire, not of flatterie; credit your former obedience, that a greater favour the Senate neither can desire, nor you bestow. For as in o­thers, so in Princes (that are Gods) life is short and fraile, therefore it behoves every excellent man to endeavour and strive to serve the Republique after death, by leaving behinde him the monuments of justice and moderation, which a Consul may best erect. This indeed is your intention, to repeale and reduce libertie. What honor ther­fore should you more affect, or what title oftner assume, then that, which by recoveredAfter the ex­pulsion of the Tarquins, the Romanes agreed upon two yearly Officers, first called Praetors, then Judges, lastly Consuls. Rosinus Ant. Rom. l. 7. c. 9. libertie was first invented. 'Tis not more no­ble to be both Prince and Consul, then Consul only. You likewise have regard to the modestie of your Colleagues (your Colleagues I say, for so you your selfe doe intitle them, and it is your pleasure that we doe so too) the memorie of their owne third Consulship would have oppressed them untill they had seene your fourth; for it cannot [Page 49] be but too much for a private man, which a Prince thinks enough. You, Caesar, condescend, and according to the greatnesse of your power, you still grant us our praiers, as the Gods grant yours. Per­haps with your third Consulshippe you could rest contented, but we so much the lesse, it makes us repeate and redouble our requests that you will againe be Consul. We should be more cold in our suite, if we knew not how you would prove. It had beene better to have de­nied us the experience of you, then the use. Shall we once more be so happy as to see him Consul! Shall he againe heare and speake the same, and give as much joy, as he receives? Shall he commaund in chiefe the Publique Jubily, whereof he is the cause and end? Shall he, as formerly, endeavour to restraine our affections, nor have power to doe it! Betwixt the Senate's pietie, and the Princes mo­destie, the combat is glorious which so ever conquers or is conque­red. Truely, I conceive, there will be yet an unknown joy; for who hath so weake a fancy but he must imagine him by how much the oftner, by so much the better Consul? Another, if he had not given himselfe over to sloath and pleasure, would yet have refreshed his labours with rest and idlenesse: This, when he was respited from his Consular, resumed his Princely cares, so regardfull of just temper that neither the Consul's Office enterfeired with the Princes, nor this check't the Consul's. We see how he satisfies the desires of the Pro­vinces with recruiting their Garrisons, and securing every particu­lar City. No difficulty in giving audience, no delay in returning an­sweres. They are immediatly admitted, immediatly dismissed, and at length the Princes doores are not besieged with crowdes of way­ting Petitioners. What his whole comportment! how gentle his severity! how judicious his mercy! You sate not to inrich the Ex­chequer, nor had your sentence any end but Justice. Those that dis­pute their rights and titles stand before you, not so carefull to pre­serve their fortunes, as your estimation, nor so much fearing your censure of their cause, as of their manners. How like a Prince it is; how like a Consul! to reconcile emulous Cities, and to calme swel­ling nations, not so much by command as reason! To cure the iniqui­tie of Magistrates, and to undoe things that ought not to have beene done. In short, like the swiftest of the Planets, to see all things, heare all things, and wheresoever invocated, instantly, like a God to be present and assistant. Such Orders, I beleeve, are given by the creator of the world, when he pleaseth to cast his eyes upon the earth and to number among his divine works the actions of mortall crea­tures; [Page 50] a care you now discharge, while he disposes the heaven, hav­ing to the race of men appointed you for his Vicegerent. And you are such a Vicegerent as best pleases your great master, since every day ends with our greatest benefit and your praise. But, when at any time you make even with influent businesses, you esteeme the change of Labour a kinde of recreation. For what is your recreation but to ride abroad, to rowse wilde beasts out of their dennes, to climbe up mighty mountaines, and to set foot on horrid rocks with­out the helpe either of the hand or track of man; and as occasion presents it selfe religiously to visit theWoods were accounted sa­cred places by the Romans who had scarce any Temple without an ad­joyning grove, where they be­leived the Dei­ties would give meetings to their favo­rites, as Aege­ria had done to their King Nu­ma. woods, and there to reverence the deities? This was of old the experience of our youth, this was their pleasure, in theseOf hunting, Xenophon sayes, that by unting health is pre­served, & men's bodies ex­cellently trained for the wars, and that hence they come to be both good Souldiers and Generalls. The most famous Huntsmen were Cephalus, Aesculapius, Melanion, Ne­stor, Theseus, Hippolitus, Pa­lamed, Vlisses, Mnestheus Di­omed, Castor, Pollux, Adonis Machaon, Po­dalirius, Anti­lo [...]hus, Achilles Aeneas. exercises were our future Generalls trained up, to contend in speed with the swiftest beast, in strength with the fiercest, in stratagem with the subtilest. Nor was it accounted a meane ornament of peace, to cleare the fields from the irrupti­ons of wild beasts, and to relieve the Husbandman's besieged labours. This glory likewise was usurped by those Princes that could not attaine it, and so usurped, that the beasts were dislod­ged to their hands as artificially as if they had forced them from their trenches, being turned loose to the triumph of a fain­ed victory. Our Prince sweates as much in hunting, as in killing them, and takes great but pleasing paines to find them out. And if sometimes he hath pleased to carry the same strength on Shipboard, he followes not the streaming sailes with his eyes or hands, but now sits at the helme now contends with the ablest of his mates to breake the waves, to tame the strugling winds and to cut through the op­position of the sea. How different wasDomitian. he, that could not brooke the stillnesse of the AlbanIt was no mervaile he intimated formerly that Domitian feared to passe a ford in Danubius or the Rhene with his Army, when it seemes he durst not trust himselfe in a boate to the smoothest of his owne country waters. Lake, nor the tranquillity and silence of the Port at Baiae, not being able to indure the least shake or sound of oares, but at every stroake they made, trembling with sordid feare? therefore all noise removed, with sailes furled, and sleeping oares, himselfe not so much as moving, he was carried like someSomething that had the pestilence or was so foule or unholy that none durst touch it. conta­minated thing. A shamefull spectacle to behold the Roman Empe­rour following the course and steerage of another ship, as if his owne had been taken by the enemy. Nor did even floods and rivers scape this deformed sight. Danubius and the Rhene rejoyced to carry so much of our shame. Nor was it lesse dishonour to the Empire, that this goodly prospect should be shewen to armies, colours, and banks [Page 51] of the Romans, then to the armies colours and banks of the enemy, the enemy, whose custome is to slide along those waters when they freeze, & when they fall into their channell, to wade, row, or swim o­ver them. Nor should I for it selfe so much commend your strength, unlesse your strong bodie was governed by a farre stronger soule, which neither the indulgence of fortune softens, nor aboundance seduces into sloath and luxury, so that whether his recreation car­ry him to the mountaines, or to the Ocean, I shall admire his body kept in health with exercise, and his limbes strengthened with la­bour. For I finde, that anciently the GoddessesAs Peleus who for his va­lour and skill in Navigation deserved to have the God­desse of the Sea Thetis for his wife, of whom he begot Achil­les; and Cepha­lus, and Hippo­litus, who for their Hunts­manship were beloved by the Goddesses Au­rora & Diana. husbands and the Gods children were not more honoured by their marriages, then for these arts of hunting and navigation. Withall, I consider when these are our Princes sports and pastimes, what (those from which he retires himselfe to these) his serious and intended pleasures are. For there are pleasures that clearely shew every ones gravity, sanctity, and temperance. Now who so dissolute in whose recreations there is not some resemblance of severity? Idlenesse betrayes us. Have not divers Princes spent this very time in diceing, courting of mi­stresses, or riotous feastings, while their serious cares were releived with a supply of opposite Vices? The very first article of a great fortune is, that nothing shall be hidden, nothing secret. But the fortune of Princes not only opens their Palaces, but even their bed-chambers, and Cabinets, and proposes and explaines to fame all their mysterious counsells. But you Caesar, have no nearer way to glory then to be throughly looked into. Those things indeed are excel­lent which you do abroad, nor those lesse excellent which are done within your Court. 'Tis glorious, Caesar, that you keepe your selfe from any infection of vice, but more glorious, that you restraine all a­bout you: by how much it is harder to make others good, then ones selfe, by so much it is more admirable that you being the best have made all like your selfe that have relatiō to you. Many have dishonou­red themselves either with a wife inconsiderately taken, or with too tame a patience suffered; So that men famous abroad were lost in do­mestick infamy, and this only hindred them from being esteemed the greatest Romans, that they wereSylla surnam­ed the happy had yet this spot in his feli­city, that he was an unhappier husband to the wanton Metel­la: unhappier husbands.Cheife Bishop, a title (as I have noted) inherent in the Roman Emperours, declaring their supremacy in divine matters. YourPlotina, who when she went up the steps to the Palace, turning to the multitude said Such I go in hi­ther as I hope to come forth, and so carried her selfe all his reigne as she deserved no kind of reprehensi­on. Dion. wife is your ornament and glory, for what more holy, what more sacred then she is? If our Pontifex Maximus were to chuse a wife he would chuse her, or her equall, but where is her equall? In all your fortune how she claimes her share in nothing, but the joy! How constantly she loves not your power, but your self! you are both [Page 52] to one another still the same you were, equall in your affections. Feli­city addes nothing to you, but that now you know how well each of you can digest felicity. How modest she is in her apparell, how fru­gall in her traine, how civill in her Garbe! This honour is the hus­bands, that gives these principles and instructions, for a wife compre­hends all glories in the glory of obedience. When she sees you goe abroad with no terrour, with no pompe, must not she needs learne to passe without noise, and even your going on foote, (as farre as her weake sex permits) she imitates, which would become her though you should doe otherwise; but where a husband is so exemplare, what modesty ought a wife to shew for his honour, a woman for her owne? YourMartiana whō for her virtues the Senate intitled Augu­sta, & after her decease deified her. sister likewise, how she remembers that she is your si­ster! how is your integrity, your truth, your candour visible in her! so that if one should compare her with your wife, he might doubt whe­ther to a good life were more efficacious to be nobly bred, or nobly borne. Nothing is so apt to quarrell as Emulation, especially in wo­men, nay it is begot by proximity of alliance, cherished by equality, enflamed by envy, and terminates in hatred. Therefore it must needs be thought more admirable, that two women, in the same house, of like fortune, should have no difference, no contention; they love each other, strive which should give place, and while both most passio­nately love you, they thinke neither is concerned which of them you love best. They both propose to themselves the same end, the same course of life, there is nothing whereby you can distinguish them to be two, for with one soule they imitate and study you. Both there­fore have the same virtues, because both have yours. Nor can they ever come in danger to be private persons, that will not be other. The Senate presented them the titles ofThis stile of Augustae was given to the wives & sisters of the Roman Emperours by decree of the Senate, whereas that of Augu­stus descended upon Empe­rours. Augustae, but they earnestly ex­cused themselves, so long as you refused the appellation of father of your Country, perhaps conceiving it more honour to be stiled your Wife and Sister, then Augustae. But what reason soever perswaded them to so much modesty, they are by so much more worthy to be, and in our soules to be esteemed Augustae, because not so entitled. For what in women is more noble, then to beleive true honour consists not in the splendour of titles, but the judgements of men, and to make themselves parallel with great names, even by refusing them? Now, in the hearts of private persons, that old felicity of mortalls, freind­ship, was antiquated [growne out of date] in place whereof there was sprung up flattery, complement, and (what is worse then hatred,) dissembled love; especially in Princes Courts there remained [Page 53] onely the empty and laught-at name of Freindship. For what articles of freindship could be drawne betweene Lords on the one part, and Vassals on the other? You Sir, have repealed this ba­nished virtue. You have freinds, because you are one. Nor can love (like other commands) be enjoined to subjects, for there is no affection more free, more noble, more impatient of dominion, and that more requires equality. Perhaps a Prince may be unjustly hated, nay hated by some although he hate not them, but beloved he cannot be unlesse he love, we therefore know you love be­cause you are beloved, and which is in both most princely, the whole glory is your owne, who being superiour in dignity not­withstanding do descend to all offices of freindship, and from an Emperour stoope to be a freind, and then are most an Emperour when you lay aside this Title for the other. And since a Princes fortune stands in neede of many freinds, it is a Prince's cheifest bu­sinesse to provide himselfe store of freinds. May this opinion e­ver please you, and as to your other virtues, so to this be constant, nor let any thing perswade you, that a Prince can fall below him­selfe, unlesse he hate. To be beloved is the sweetest of all humane blessings, nor is it lesse sweete to love; both which you so enjoy, that whereas you most passionately love, yet you are more passi­onately beloved. First, for that 'tis easier to love one, then many; then, because you have so great a power and faculty of obligeing, that none but an ingratefull man can chuse but love you best. 'Tis worth our industry, to relate what torments you put your selfe unto, that you might deny nothing to your freind. You parted with a most excellentL. Licinius Su­ra the afore­mentioned Captaine of the Guards, to whom Trajan's affection is here at large described. man, most deare in your esteeme, unwill­ingly and sadly, and as if you could not tell how much you loved him you tryed it by absence, with much paine and distraction yeilding to be seperated. A thing never till this present heard of, the Prince and the Prince's freind desire contradictories, and the freind's desire carries it. O memorable freindship, worthy an immortall History, to chuse the praefect of the Praetorians not out of those that sought places, but that declined them, and to re­store the same man to that Rest which he so passionatelyHow Sura doated on a re­tired life ap­peares by part­ing w th so great, so affecti­onate and so unalterable a freind, as Tra­jan was to him, but its especial­ly manifest by that inscription which after his 7. yeares pri­vate life he caused to be graven on his monu­ment. Here lies one aged many yeares, that liv­ed but seaven of them. doates upon; and when you your selfe are overburdened with the cares of Empire, not to envy another the glory of his quiet! We un­derstand how much we owe you, Caesar, for your owne laborious and restlesse stations, since you granted this petitioner a writt of [Page 54] Ease as the highest favour. What confusion did they tell me you were in, when you brought him on his way, for you could not forbeare going with him to the Sea side, where at his very take­ing boate you imbraced and kissed him on the shore. Upon that vantage ground of friendshippe Caesar stood, wishing him a safe voyage, and (if he so pleased) a quick returne: Nor could hee leave him thus, but many leagues followed him with his prayers and teares. I say nothing of his munificence, because no bounty can equall this care and patience of a Prince; whereby you have deserved that he should condemne himselfe as too pertinacious, too hard-hearted. And doubtlesse he repented and was readie to bid the Pilot tack about, had he not conceived, there might bee almost as much happinesse as in the Prince's societie, to de­sire the Prince. And truely as he enjoyes that greatest good hee aymed at, so he attaines a greater glorie in the resignation of his place, to which when you consented, you declared that you would tye no man to your service longer then he pleases. This was Princely, and well became our publique Parent to compell nothing, but alwaies to remember that so great a power [or place] cannot be given to any, but he may before that power [or place] preferre his freedome. Caesar, you are worthy to conferre offices on such as shall wish to resigne them, and when they make it a suite, against your will indeede, but yet to grant it; you are worthy not to conceive your selfe abandoned by your friends that beg leave to retire themselves, but still to finde those you may call from, and those you may restore to Rest. You like­wise, my Lords, on whom our Parent daignes to cast a gracious and familiar eye, improve his opinion of you, this is now your businesse, for the Prince having given us proofe that hee can love, is to be excused if he love others in a lesse degree. But who can ob­serve a moderation in loving him, for as much as his love must not receive but give the Law? This man would be affected pre­sent, and that absent, either shall have his owne desire: None by presence shall growe cheape, none by absence be forgotten; every one holds the place he merits, and he may easier blot the face of the absent out of his memory, then cancell from his heart the affection which he beareth him. Many Princes when they were Tyrants over their Subjects, were yet their freed-men'sAs Domitian was to Crispi­nus and to the player Paris, of whom Juv. Sat. 7. Many to honour in the warres hee brings, With summer annu­lets and winter rings He binds the Poets fin­gers; what there lives No Lord that will be­stow, a Player gives. bondmen, governed by their counsells, by their wills [Page 55] and pleasures. Through these they saw, through these they spake, through these mens hands went Praetorshippes, Priest­hoods, Consulshippes, Nay unto them were made all addresses of that nature. Your freed-men are indeede much honoured by you, but still as freed-men, and you beleeve, it may aboundantly suffice them if they be accounted honest and carefull servants. For you know 'tis a demonstrative argument of no great Prince, to have great freed-men. And in the first place, you admit none of them to be neere your person, unlesse you your selfe doe, or your father, or some good Prince did affect him. And these very men you daily so mould and forme, as that they measure them­selves, not according to your condition, but their owne. So much more cause we have to respect them, because we are not tyed to doe it. Have not the Senate and People of Rome upon just ground conferred on you the Surname of the Best? It is true, it was a titleReady indeed, for Suetonius saies that Caius tooke the Title of Best & Greatest, but Pliny here implies that Caeius only arrogated that stile of Best, whereas Tra­jan won it by his merit. ready for you, wherewith our tongues were for­merly acquainted, yet a new title; we may be sure no other Prince deserved it, for else it had beeneNot taken, given him, as it was to you, without praemeditation. WasThe Style of Sylla. Happy a stile comparable to it, which was bestowed upon the fortune, not the virtue. OrThe Surname of Pompey. Great, which had in it more of envy then of glory. An excellent Prince adopted you into his owne name, the Senate into the name of Best, and 'tis as proper to you as your paternall Sirname, nor doth he more distinguish you that calls you Trajan, then he that calls you Best. So, antiently frugalitie denominated thePiso was Sur­named the fru­gall, not be­cause he was a good husband only for himselfe, but because he was frugall that he might be beneficiall to others. Pi­so's, wisedome theC. Lalius, Serpio's friend, who intending to reforme the Lex Agraria (the Law for division of Lands propor­tionable to the qualities and conditions of men) finding himselfe opposed by a strong faction of the richer sort, he desisted and was therfore surnamed the Wise. Plutarch. Laelij, pietie theMetellus was sur­named the Pious for rescuing the Palladium, or wooden Image of Pallas, when her Temple was on fire, in which service the well-meaning man lost his eyes. Metelli; all which Names are comprehended in this one. Nor can he be Best that excells not every person in a peculiar way of merit. Deservedlie therefore after all your other apellations this was added, as most great. For, 'tis lesse to be Emperour, Caesar, and Augustus, then of all Emperours, Caesar's and Augustuse's the Best. Therefore that parent both of Gods and men, is first adored by the name of Best, and then of Greatest. The more glorious still your praise, that are known to be no lesse Best, then Greatest; you have ob­tained [Page 56] a name that never can descend or be transferred to another, for in a good Prince it will appeare borrowed, in a bad Prince usur­ped; which should all your successours assume, it must ever be acknowledged yours. For as the title of Augustus, mindes us of him to whom it was first consecrated, so this of Best, man's memorie never shall reflect upon without remembring you. As often as posterity shall be compelled to stile another best, so oft they shall remember him that merited that title. Divine Nerva, how much is now thy joy in heaven! to see that he is Best, and so intituled, whom thou didst elect as Best! how it rejoyceth thee, that, compared with thy sonne, thou art transcended, for in nothing more didst thou declare the greatnesse of thy soule, then that, being excellent thy selfe, thou didst not feare to choose a better. And thou likewise,L. Trajan of whom in the Praeface, Trajan the father (for though not among the starres, yet thou hast attained the next place to them) what pleasure takest thou to behold this thy Tribune, this thy Souldier, so great a Generall, so great a Prince! nay thou hast a friendly contention with the spirit of his adoptive father, whe­ther be more noble to have begot or elected such a sonne. Both of you have infinitely merited of the Common-wealth, on which you have conferred so great a good, who though his filiall pietie can but give triumphall ornaments to the one, yet to the other he gives heaven. Nor is your praise the lesse that you deserve them by your sonne, then if the merit were your owne. My Lords, I know all Romanes, but especially the Consuls ought to be so affe­cted, as to esteeme themselves rather publiquely then privatelie oblieged. For, as it is better and more noble to distaste ill Prin­ces, for common then particular injuries, so the good are more generously beloved for their favours done to mankinde, then to men. But forasmuch as 'tis growne into a custome, that the Consuls having presented the publique thanks, should likewise ac­knowledge in their owne names the greatnesse of their private obligations, give me leave to discharge this part of my dutie, not with more respect to my selfe, then to Cornutus Tertullus my Collegue and formerly a Consular person. For why should I not likewise give thanks for him, that am equally obliged on his be­halfe, especially since our most gracious Soveraigne hath done that for both, which if one of us only had received yet both had beene obliged: that pillager &Domitian. murtherer of every virtuous man [Page 57] had blasted both of us by the slaughter of friends; so neere us fell the thunderbolt: for we gloried in the same friends, and for the same lost men we mourned; as now our joy and hope, so then our griefe & feare was common. This honour to our sufferings di­vine Nerva did, that he wouldNerva ma­king Pliny & Cornutus Ter­tullus Prae­fects of the Treasury. advance us, though peradven­ture lesse worthie, to let the World see them flourish that before his reigne only wish't they might slide out of the Princes memory. We had not beene two yeares compleate in that most painefull and great Office, when you (best of Princes, valiantest of Gene­rals) offered us the Consulship, that to the highest honour the glo­ry of celeritie might be added. So much you differ from those Princes, who conceived that difficulty set a value on their favours, and that honours would be more welcome to men, if first de­spaire and dancing of attendance, and a delay resembling a deniall, had affronted and set a marke of disgrace upon them. Modestie forbids me to repeate the testimonie wherewith you honoured us both, making us (both in our love of truth, and love of the Repub­lique) equall to those antient Consuls; whether deservedly, or no, I dare not determine; for it would be unseemly to contradict what you affirme, and insolent to owne the character you gave us being so magnifique. But you are worthy to create such Consuls of whom you may report such Miracles. Pardon it, Sir, that a­mong your favours we acknowledg this the highest, that you have pleased to make us once againe Colleagues, 'twas the ambi­tion of our mutuall love, of the agreeable method of our life, of one and the same end of our endeavours; the power whereof is so great, that our similitude of disposition takes from us the glory of our friendshippe, and it were no lesse a wonder, should one of us dissent from his Collegue, then from himselfe. Therefore 'tis no new or temporary thing, that each of us as much rejoyces in the Consulshippe of his Collegue, as if his owne were againe to be re­newed, only they who are twice made Consuls have a obligations, but at severall times: we have each of us received two Consulships together, we discharge them together, joyntly in the union of our soules, yet severally and by Collegueshippe. But how rare it was, that while we were Praefects of the Treasury, you gave us the Con­sulshippe, before you named our Successours! One dignity grew into another, nor was the honour continued, but doubled, and (as if it had beene a meane favour to give us another office when this [Page 58] was ended) you would not suffer it to expire. So great was the con­fidence you had in our integrity, that you doubted not but to give a good account to your reason, if you did not suffer us (after so great a place in the Republique) to become private men. What? that you were pleased to make us Consuls in the current yeare of your owne Consulshippe! we therefore shall be in the same Roll that records you Consul, and our names shall be added to the Acts you signed. You vouchsafed to be President at our Election, and to reade unto us those most sacred verses. We were made Consuls by your judgement, that we might have the honour both of your vote in Court, and declaration in the fields. But how were we graced that particularlie you would assigne over to us the moneth which is made glorious by your birth-day! So that we had the happinesse by our Edicts and by our publique shewes to cele­brate thatWhich being the same day with that of Domitian's death, must be the 18 of Sept. for Sueto­nius records him obtrunca­tum ad decimū quartum Kalen­das Octobris. ij Nerva being crowned upon the 18 of Sept. day, blest with a three fold joy, that rid us of the worst Prince, gave us the best, and brought forth a better then the best. The chariot-Chayre, with more then usuall reverence carried us in your sight, and being in the midst of those fortunate Omens and contentions of good wishes that thronged into your presence, we were so over-joyed that we knew not whether the sound came to our eares from the right hand or the left. Beyond all, it appeares your greatest noblenesse, that you suffer those you have created to be Consuls, for no danger no terrour from the Prince debilitates or shakes the Consular power or spirits, nothing is spoken against our wills, nothing decreed against our judgements. The veneration is now and shall be inherent in the Honour, nor shall we by our au­thoritie cancell our securitie. If the dignitie of the Consulshippe loose any thing, it must be our fault, not the times, for 'tis free on the Prince's part, 'tis free for Consuls to be such, as they were be­fore we had Princes. Can we returne you any thanks answerable to these favours, but only, ever to remember we have bin Consuls, & your Consuls? So let us thinke, so judge as Consuls ought, and so serve the weale publique, as beleeving there is now a Common­weale. Let us not withdraw our counsels or endeavours, nor con­ceive our selves to be freed and severed, but tyed and bound unto the Consulshippe; keeping the same eminence in care and industry, that we doe in reverence and dignitie. To shut up my discourse. I humbly beseech the governours and guardians of the Empire, the Gods, our heavenly Consuls; in particular I pray thee, Capitolin [Page 59] Jupiter, that thou wilt cherish what thou hast bestowed upon us, and to so great a bountie add eternitie. Thou heardst our impre­cations made against the Worst of Princes, heare now our prayers for the Best. We doe not wearie thee with Supplications, we pray not for peace, not for concord, not for safety, not for riches, not for honours, all these are comprehended in one single wish, the preservation of the Prince; nor doe we aske new favours, for thou didst then receive him into thy protection, when thou didst snatch him out of the tallons of a vulturousDomitian, of whose subtile hatred to Tra­jan in the Pre­face. Tyrant; for not without thy speciall assistance, when every noble height was battered downe, could this of all the noblest have remained unshaken; being passed over by the worst Prince, that the best might find him. Thou gavest us evident testimonies of thy approba­tion when thou didst entitle him (then going towards the Army) to thy owne name, to thy owne honour; thou speak­ing by the Emperour's mouth didst adopt to him a Sonne, to us a Parent, to thy selfe a Pontifex Maximus. Wherefore in the very words, wherein hee prayed for himselfe, I pray, if hee governe the Republique well and for the benefit of all, first that thou wilt preserve him for our Grand-children and great Grand-children, then that at length thou wilt give him a Successour whom hee hath begotten, as happilie as hee himselfe hath beene adopted; or if fate deny him this, be of counsell with him in his choice, and shew him such a one as it may become him to elect in the Capitoline Temple.

How much I am indebted to your Lordships is likewise re­corded in our publicke monuments. You have given me an au­thenticke testimony of peaceablenesse in my Tribuneshippe, modesty in my Praetourshippe, and constancy in those offi­ces you enjoined me, in defending the causes of our Associates; & you approved of my following Consulshippe with so manie joyfull expressions, that I conceive my selfe ingaged to my utmost power to cherish, confirm, and dayly to improve the rea­sons of your approbation. For I know tis then best judged whether one doth or doth not merit honour, when he hath attained it. Do you but favour this my intention, and beleive it, if I was once put into a way of advancement by that sub­tillDomitian, who at first so dissembled, that he forbad the sacrificing of Beasts, where as afterward be himselfe set up a shambles for Men. Prince, before he professed his hatred to good men, if after [Page 60] he professed it I retired my selfe; when I saw the compendious way to honour, I chose to goe a longer journey; if in bad times I be numbred with the sad and indangered, in good times with the joyfull and secure; to conclude, if I as much love the best Prince, as I was hated by the worst, I shall ever serve your Lordships not as Consul or a Consular person, but as a Candidate of the Consulship.

FINIS.

ERRATA.

PReface Pag. 1. Lin. 5. for, Conquest of the king of Dacia. reade Conquest of Dacia. Panegyrick pag. 3 lin. 5. for say too much, read please or displease as I shall say too much. p. 4. l. 17. for that end. r. this end. p. 30. b. l. 33. for succession. r. posterity. p. 27. b. for ex. r. et. marg.

Some such other small faults there are, which the Reader may with ease discover and correct.

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