AS I went one day to my common schoole Lynosargus, and being in the waye by Elizeus, I might heare the voice of one calling a­loude to me, Socrates. And tur­ning me about to see whence it came, I saw Cli­nias Axiochus his sonne, together with Damon the Musitian & Charmides, the sonne of Glauco running hastely toward Callirrhoe, whereof the one was a Maister and professor of the Arte of Musicke, & the other by means of great fami­liarity & acquaintance, did both loue him, and also was of him beloued; whereupon I thought good, leauing my ready way, to go meet them, that I might the sooner vnderstand his mea­ning. Then Clinias bursting out in teares, O [Page] Socrates (quod he) now is the time when thou maist shew forth thy long fostered and famous wisedome, for my father is euen nowe taken with a grieuous disease, and drawing neere (as it seemeth) to his end, is therwithall grieuously troubled, and greatly disquieted. Howbeit, heeretofore hee was so farre from the feare of death, as that he was wont pleasantly to scoffe and scorne at those which vsed to portraict the Image of death, painting him with a dreadfull countenance and a griesly face. VVherefore I beseech thee O Socrates, to go and comfort my father as you were wont to doo: for so the ra­ther being strengthened with your good coun­saile, he shall bee able without any grudging or fainting to passe through the way of all flesh, and I with the rest of his friends and kinsmen will maintaine the yearely memory of that his good end.

O Clinias I will not denie thy so reasonable a request, specially concerning such a matter, as to deny it were great vnkindnes and discourte­sie: to grant it, perteyneth both to godlinesse and charitie. Let vs therefore speede vs to him: for if thy father be in so sore taking, there nee­deth speedines and great hast.

O Socrates, I am sure that my father, assoone as hee but beholdeth you, will be much better at ease: for his fitte and panges of his sicknesse vse oftentimes to surcease and be asswaged.

But that we might the sooner come to him, we tooke the way, which lieth beside the town wall by the Gardeins) for his dwelling was hard by the gates which lyeth toward the A­mazons piller: whither wee comming, found Axiochus (which by this time was come to himself againe) being indeed somewhat strong in his body, but very weake and feeble in his minde, and resting altogether comfortlesse: often tossing him, and tumbling vp and downe in his bed, fetching deepe and dolefull sighes, with aboundant streames of trickling teares, and wailefull wringing of his handes: whome beholding, O Axiochus quoth I, what mea­neth this? where bee now those haughtie and couragious words, wherewith thou wast wont to scorne and despise death? where bee those thy dayly and continuall prayses of vertue and goodnesse vanished? where also is now that thy vnspeakeable stoutnesse, wherewith thou wast [Page] woont to confirme thy selfe and strengthen o­thers: for like as a cowardly champion, which at the first comming forth as to the skirmish, with stately steps and a vaunting visage, dooth soone after cast away his Target, and taketh him to flight: euen so seemest thou now, when there is need most of al to flinch. Hast thou no more regarde of thy diuine and excellent na­ture, that sometime wast a man of so good life and calling, so obedient to reasons rule? and if there were nothing els, yet should it be suffici­ent to mooue thee, that thou art an Athenian borne: and lastly should mooue thee that com­mon saying, which is worne in all mens mouths; That this our life is a Pilgrimage, which when we haue ended with perfect measure and sted­fast trauell: it behoueth vs with like constancy of minde, and ioyfulnes of spirit, and as it were singing a merry Paean, to enter into the purpo­sed place of rest. But thus to languish in dis­paire and tender harted out-cries, behauing thy selfe like a froward Babe, in thee is neither re­gard of thy wisedome, nor respect of thy age.

True indeed O Socrates, and that which thou sayest, me seemeth right: But it commeth to passe I knowe not how, that when I drawe neere vnto present daunger, than those great [Page] and stout-hearted wordes which I was wont to cast at death, doo closely flit away and downe are trodden vnderfoote. And then that Tor­ment or feare, the messenger of dreaded daun­gers, dooth sundrye wayes wound and gall my grieued minde, whispering continually in mine eare that if I bee once depriued of this worldly light, and bereft of goods: I shall like a rotten blocke lye in the darkesome deapth, neither seene nor heard of any, beeing resolued into dust and wormes.

O Axiochus thy talke is very foolish, for reasoning thus without reason, and seeking to make some sence of senceles wordes, thou both dost and sayest cleane contrary to thy selfe, not marking, how at one time thou dost both com­plaine for the lacke of sence which thou shalt haue: and also art greatly vexed for the rotting of thy carrion Carcasse, and despoyling of thy former delights: as if by this death thou shoul­dest not passe into another life, or shouldest be so despoyled of all sence and feeling, as thou wert before thou wast first brought into this world. For euen as in those yeares when Draco and Callisthenes gouerned the common wealth of Athens, thou then wast vexed with no euil, for in the beginning thou wast no such as to [Page] whome euill might chance: so likewise when thou hast ended this state of mortalitye thou shalt no more be afflicted, for thou shalt not be in such case as that any euill can touch thee. VVherefore shake off and castaway all these trifles and worldly baggage, thus waying in thy minde, that when the frame of this earthly building is dissolued, and the soule being sing­led, is restored to his naturall place: this bodye which is then left an earthly masse and an vn­reasonable substance, is then no more a man. For we are a soule, that is to say, an immortall creature, beeing shut vp and inclosed in an earthly dungeon. VVherewithall nature hath clothed vs, and charged vs with many miseries, so that euen those things which seeme pleasant to vs and ioyfull, are indeed but vaine and sha­dowed, beeing mingled and wrapped in many thousand sorrowes, and those also which vse to breede vs sorrowe and heauines, are both sodaine, and therefore more hardely auoyded, and also perdurable, and therefore the more painefull and wearisome. Such be diseases and inflammation of the sences: Such bee inward griefes and sickenesses, through which it can­not choose but that the soule must bee also dis­eased, since that beeing scattered and spread through the powres and passages of the body, it coueteth the vse of that open and kinde hea­uen out of which it was deriued, and thirsteth [Page] for the wonted company & surpassing delights of that aerernall fellowship; whereby it is eui­dent, that the passage from life, is a change from much euill to great good.

Since therefore O Socrates thou deemest this life so tedious and troublesome, why doost thou still abide in the same? beeing as thou art a man of so great wisedom and experience, whose knowledge reacheth farre aboue our common sence, and beyond the vsuall reason of most men.

Thou Axiochus doost not report rightly of me: for thou iudgest as the common people of Athens, that because you see I am giuen to seeke and search out many things, therefore I know somewhat. But to say the truth, I would hartely wish, and would the same account in great parte of happinesse, if I knew but these common and customable matters: so farre am I from the knowledge of those high and excel­lent things. For these things which I nowe de­clare, are the sayinges of Prodicus the wise man: some of them beeing bought for a pen­nye: some for two groats, and other some for [Page] foure: For that same notable man vsed to teach none without wages, hauing alwaies in his mouth that saying of Epicharmus, One hand rubbeth another: giue somewhat, and somewhat take. And it is not long sithence, that he making a discourse of Philosophye in the house of Callias the sonne of Hipponicus, such and so many things he spake against the state of life: that I also account life in the num­ber of those thinges which be of lesse waight. And euer since that time O Axiochus, my soule gaspeth after death, daily longing to die.

VVhat then was said of Prodicus?

Marrie I will tell you, as they come to my minde. For what parcell (quod he) of our life is not full of wretchednes? dooth not the ba­bie euen taken frō the mothers wombe, powre out plenty of teares, beginning the first step of life with griefe? neither afterward hath it once any breathing or resting time from sorrow, be­ing either distressed with pouertie, or pinched with colde, or scortched with heate, or payned with stripes: and whatsoeuer it suffereth, vtter once it cannot, but onely with crying dooth [Page] show his minde, hauing no voice but that alone to bewray his griefe: and hauing through ma­ny woes waded to seauen yeares of age, he is yet afflicted with greater griefes, being subiect to the tyranny of the Schoolemaister and Tu­tor. And as his yeares encreased, so is the num­ber of his guides and gouernours encreased, be­ing afterwards in the handes of Censors, Phi­losophers and Capitaines. Soone after being waxen a stripling he is hemmed in with greater feare, namely of Lyceum, of the Academie, of the Schoole of games, of Rulers, of Roddes: and to shut vp all in one worde, of infinite mise­ries. And all the time of his youth is spent vn­der ouer-seers which are set ouer him by the Areopagits from which labours young men beeing once freed, are yet ouer-layde with greater cares and more weightie thoughts, tou­ching the ordering of his state and trade of life: which also if they be compared with those that followe, all these former troubles may seeme but childish and indeed babish trifles. For herevpon dooth a troope of euils accrew, as be the exploites of warfare, the bitternesse of wounds, the continuall labour, skirmishes: and then closely creepeth on olde Age, in which are heaped all the harmes that pertaine to man­kinde, whether of weakenesse as naturall, or of paine as being externall. And but if one be­times restore his life as a dew debt to death: [Page] Nature euer waiting as a greedy vsurer, taketh paynes aforehand, snatching and pulling from this man his sight, from that his hearing, from som both two senses. And if any fortune lōger then commonly is seene in this life to linger, Nature weakening hir powres, dooth loose, lame, and bow downe all partes of his body, but they whose bodies in old age long flouri­sheth in minde, as the saying is, become twise children. And therfore the gods, knowing what is most expedient for men, those whome they most deerely loue, do soonest take out of this vale of wretchednes. And for this cause Aga­medes and Trophonius, when they had built a Temple to Pythius Apollo, desiring of the god therefore to grant them the best rewarde that might be giuen, soone after when they layde them downe to rest, neuer rose againe.

Likewise Cleobis & Biton, the sonnes of the Argiue Nunne, whē their mother had made hir praier to Iuno, that to her sonnes for their great godlines might be giuen some singuler gift (for that they when her yoake of Oxen were not readily to bee found at the time of sacrifice, themselues being yoaked in the charriot, drew their mother to the Temple) vpon this their mothers request, the two sonnes the next mor­ning were found dead. It were too long in this place to reherse the testimonies of Poets which in their diuine poesies do diuinely bewaile and [Page] lament the miseries of mans life, I will nowe onely in place of many, recite the witnesse of one, being most worthie of memorie, which thus saith,

And againe:

But of Amphiaraus what saith the Poet?

But I will let them passe, least contrarye to promise, I seeme to discourse at large, and that in the alleadging of forraine witnesses. What trade of life I pray you is there, or what occu­pation, of which you shall not find many that complaine and greatly mislike of their present affaires. Let vs ouerrunne the companies of Ar­tificers & craftsmen, which continually labour from night to night, and yet hardly able to find them necessaries to liue, by bewayling theyr bare estate, & filling their nightwatchings with [Page] sorrow and teares. Let vs els suruew the life of Marriners and Seafaring men, which make a hole through so many dangers, & which as Bias said, are neither in the number of the liuing nor yet of the dead, for man being borne to abide vpon the earth, dooth as it were a creature of a double kinde, thrust himselfe into the maine sea, and wholy put his life into the hands of for­tune. But the life of husbandmen will some say is pleasant, and so in deed it is: but haue they not a continuall ranckling gall, euer breeding new cause of greefe and disquiet, sometime by reason of drought, sometime because of raine, otherwhile for scortching, oft through blasting, which parcheth the vntimely eare oftentimes, because of importunate heate or vnmeasurable colde, miserably weeping and complaining. But aboue all, that honourable state of gouerne­ment and principallitie (for I let passe many o­ther things & wrap them vp in silence) through how many dangers is it tossed and turmoiled, for if at any time it haue any cause of ioye, it is like vnto a blowne blister or a swelling sore, soone vp, and sooner downe: oftentime suffe­ring a foule repulse, which seemeth a thousand times worse then death it selfe. For who at any time can be blessed, that hangeth vpon the wa­uering will of the witlesse many? And albeit the Magistrate deserue fauour and praise, yet is he but a mocking stocke and scoffe of the [Page] comminalty, being soone after, outcast, hissed at, condemned, and deliuered to a miserable death. For where I praye thee O Axiochus, (thee I aske that art in office in the common­wealth) dyed that mightie Miltiades? where that victorious Themistocles? where that vali­ant Ephialtes? where finally thse noble kings and glorious Emperours, which not long a goe flourished in the common wealth. As for my selfe, I could neuer be brought to beare office in the Cittie: for I neuer accounted it as a worthie and lawdable thing to be in authority together with the madding multitude.

But Theramenes and Calixenus of late me­morie appointing vnder them certaine Magi­strates, condemned certaine guiltlesse men, not hearing their causes to vndeserued death. One­lye withstood them you, and Triptolemus, of thirty thousand men which were gathered in the assemblie.

It is as thou sayest Socrates, and since that time I haue refrained my selfe from the stage: neither hath any thing euer to mee seemed of greater waighte, then the gouerning of the common-wealth, and that is well knowne to them which are in the same office. For thou speakest these things, as hauing out of some [Page] high loft onely ouerlooked the troubles and tempests of the common-wealth, but we know the same more assuredly, hauing made proofe therefore in ourselues, for the common people indeede our freends Socrates is vnthankefull, disdainefull, cruell, enuious, and vnlearned, as that is gathered together of the scumme and dregs of the rascall route, and a sorte of idle lo­sels: whome hee that flattereth and feedeth is much worse himselfe than they.

Since therefore O Axiochus, thou doost so greatly disallow that opinion, which of all o­ther, is counted most honest and liberall; what shall we iudge of the other trades of life? shall wee not thinke that they are likewise to bee shunned: I remember that I once heard Pro­dicus say; that death pertayneth neither to the liuing nor to the dead.

How meane you that, Socrates?

Mary thus; that death toucheth not them that are, and as for those that are departed out [Page] of this life, are now no more, and therfore death now toucheth them not: for thou art not yet dead, neither if thou decease, shall it concerne thee, for thou shalt then haue no more. There­fore, most vaine is that sorrow which Axiochus maketh, for the thing which neyther is present, nor shall euer touch Axiochus himselfe. And euen as foolish is it, as if one should complaine and be afraid of Scylla, or the Centaures, which were monsters, of Poets broode, which ney­ther now belong to thee, nor to thy liues end shall appertaine; for feare is conceyued of such things as be: but of such things as be not, what feare can there be?

Truely Socrates, you haue fetched these things, out of the riche and most aboundant Storehouse of your woonderfull wisedome: And thereof riseth that your mildenesse and lightnesse of speech, which you vse to allure the mindes of yoong men to vertue. But the losse of these worldly commodities, dooth not a little vexe and disquiet my minde; albeit these reasons, which now to my great good liking you haue alledged, seeme to mee much more allowable, than those which late you v­sed; for my minde is not carryed away with er­ror through the entisement of your words, but [Page] perceiueth them well, neither doe those things greatly mooue my minde, which onely haue a colour and shadowed showe of truth, being set out with flanting pride, and glory of words, but yet truth haue they none.

Thou art farre wide Axiochus, and reasonest vnskilfully, ioyning the feeling of euill, with the wante of good things, forgetting thy selfe that then thou shalt bee in the number of the sencelesse dead. For him indeed which is be­reft of all good things, dooth the contrary force of euill things greatly vexe. But he which hath no being, can take nor feele nothing, in place of those things whereof he is despoiled. Then by what reason can any griefe bee conceyued of that thing, which breedeth no sence nor perse­uerance of any thing which hurteth. For if in the beginning O Axiochus, thou didst not, though indeed in vayne, ioyne sence and fee­ling to death, most vnwisely, thou shouldest neuer had cause to feare death. But now thou doest confound thy selfe, and speakest contra­rie to thy selfe, oft fearing that thou shalt bee depriued of soule and sence together, and oft thinking, that with thy sence thou shalt feele that thing, whereof there is no sence nor fee­ling. And to this purpose do all those excellent [Page] and notable reasons of the soules immortalitie tend.

For it is not the weake nature of mortall man, to raise himselfe to the fulfilling of such high and haughtye matters, as to despise the ramping rage of wilde beasts, to ieopard him­selfe in the wastefull sea, to builde Citties, and them with lawes and pollicie to establish: to looke vp into heauen, and marke the course of the Starres; and the wayes of the Sunne and Moone, with their risings and setting, to con­sider their eclipses, their spaces, their making of the nights and dayes alike, their double con­uersions, to behold the order of the windes, the seauen watrie starres, of winter, of summer, of stormes, with the violent rage of whirle­windes, and as it were these labours of the world, to deliuer to posteritie, vnlesse in our mindes there were a certaine diuine spirit and vnderstanding, which could comprehend and reach vnto the supernaturall knowledge of so great matters.

VVherefore nowe O Axiochus, thou art not in the way to death, but to immortality, neither shalt thou (as thou didst seeme right now to feare) bee bereft of all good, but shall hereby enioy true and perfect good: Neither shalt thou perceiue such durty pleasures as are these, beeing mingled with the puddle of this sinfull body, but most pure and perfect delight [Page] being deuoid of all contagious trouble. For beeing loosed and deliuered out of the darke­some dungeons of this body, thou shalt passe to that place where is no lacke nor complaint, but all things full of rest, and deuoid of euill. Moreouer there is calme and quiet liuing with­out all knowledge of vnrest, peaceable and still occupied in beholding the course & frame of Nature, and studying Philosophy, not to please the idle ignorant and common sort, but with vpright and vndeceiuable truth.

O Socrates with this thy gladsome speech thou hast now brought mee into a cleane con­trary minde, for so farre am I nowe from dread of death, that I am euen set on fire and burne with desire thereof. And that I may stay my selfe in the steppes of them which are counted workemasters of speech, I will say thus much more excellently, Now I begin to behold those high matters, and doo ouerlooke that aeternall and heauenly course of things, hauing now ray­sed vp my selfe out of my weakenes, and being as it were renued and refreshed of my former malady.

If you demaunde of mee another reason, and signe of the soules immortality, I will tell you what the wise man Gobrias shewed me: He saide that at what time Xerxes conuayed his huge Army into Greece, his Grandfather which was of the same name, was sent into Delos to defende that Iland in which were two Gods borne. In the same Iland that his Grandfather learned out of certaine brasen Tables which Opis and Hecuergus had brought out of the Northerne Countries, That the soule aftertime it is dissolued from the body passeth into a cer­taine darkesome place, a Coast that lyeth vn­der the earth wherein is Plutoes Pallace no lesse than Iupiters kingdome: For the earth be­ing equally ballanced in the middest of the world, and the compasse thereof beeing round as a ball, that the one halfe Sphere thereof is al­lotted to the higher Gods, and the other halfe to the infernall powres; betwixt whom there is such kindred and allyance, that some bee bro­thers, and other some brothers children. But the entry of the way which leadeth to Plutoes kingdome is fenced with iron gates, and faste­ned with brasen bolts: which when a man hath opened, he is entertained of the Riuer A­cheron; next which is Cocytus: which flouds being ouerpassed, hee must come before Mi­nos and Rhadamanthus, the merciles Iudges: [Page] which place is called the plain of Truth where the Iudges sit examining euery one that com­meth thither how he hath liued, and with what trade or manner of life hee hath inhabited his mortall body, with whom there is no place for lies; nor refuge for excuses. Then they which in their life time were inspired and led with a good Angell, are receiued into the houshold of the blessed, where all seasons flowe with abun­dance of all fruits, where from the siluer springs doo calmely run the Christall streames, where the flourishing medowes are cloathed with chaungeable Mantles of glorious colours, where are famous Schooles of renowmed Phi­losophers, goodly companies of diuine Poets, trim sorts of Dauncers, heauenly Musicke, great banquets furnished with costly cates, Ta­bles abounding with all bounty, delights with­out all care, and pleasures without all paine: For the Inhabitants thereof are neither touched with force of cold, nor payned with excesse of heate, but the moderate Aire breatheth on them mildly and calmely, being, lightned with the gentle Sunnebeames.

In this place, and in the Elysian fields, they which haue taken holy orders are highly ad­uanced and reuerenced, dayly ministring the vnsearcheable rytes of Religion. VVhere­fore then shouldest thou doubt but to be made partaker of the same honor, being one of the [Page] seede of that heauenly race: It is an old saying and rightly reported, that Hercules and Bac­chus going downe to hell, they were instituted in holly orders, and that they were emboldned to goe thither of the Goddesse Eleusina. But they which being wrapped in wickednes haue led an vngodly life, are snatched vp by the Fu­ries, and by them carried through the lowest hell into deepe darkenes and vtter confusion, where the place and abode of the wicked is, and where the three score daughters of Danaus dwell, whose punishment is continually to fill a sort of bottomlesse vessels, where also is to bee seene the vnquencheable thirst of Tantalus, the gnawen Entrailes of Titius, and the endles stone of Sisip [...]us, whose end beginneth a newe labour. There bee they rent of wilde beasts, continually scorched with burning Lamps, pai­ned with all kind of torments, and afflicted with endlesse pennance. These thinges I remember that I haue heard Gobrias tell; but you Axio­chus may iudge of them as you list. Only this I know and assuredly hold fast, that euery mans minde is immortall and passing out of this life feeleth no griefe nor sorrowe. VVherefore O Axiochus whether thou be carryed into those highest Pallaces or lower Vawts, needes must it bee that thou shalt bee blessed because thou hast liued well and godly.

Minding to haue said something vnto thee (O Socrates) I am impeached with bashfull shame: For so farre am I now from the horror and dread of death, that I continually couet the time thereof: So hath thy heauenly and comfortable speeches pierced and relieued my faint heart. And nowe loath I this life, and scorne the delights thereof, as that shall from henceforth passe into a better abode. And now by my selfe alone will I recount these thy no­table sayings, but I pray thee (O Socrates) af­ter noone resort to me againe.

I will doo as you say, and now will I returne to walk in my school Lynosargus from whence I was hither called.