A philosophicall discourse, entituled, The anatomie of the minde. Nevvlie made and set forth by T.R.

❧Of the Perturbations in generall. (Book 1)

Chap. 1.

MYnding to dis∣course of the affections, or perturbations in man, necessary it is some what briefly to speake of them in generall, ac∣cording to the straunge opinions of two sectes of Philosophers, namelye, the Stoikes, and Peripatetions, and the ra∣ther because they haue bene the Fathers and protectours of Philosophie. Which as they were of two sectes in generall pointes of humane wisdome, so are they of two sortes, concerning the motions of the minde.* 1.1 For the Stoikes wyl not per∣mit a man to be moued any whytt, for any thing: the Peripatetions contrari∣wyse,* 1.2 thinke it méete that a man should be moued, and being passioned, he should keepe himselfe within the bounds of mo∣destie. Eyther opinion in respect of o∣ther, straunge, and yet neyther true.

The Stoikes too seuere,* 1.3 or better preci••e▪ the Peripatetions in this point too prodi∣gall. For (as termeth them Lactantius) furious and mad are the Stoikes, which are so farre from tempering them, that they woulde cut of, and as it were gelde men of those thinges which are grafted and planted in them by nature. Which what other thing is it, then from Hartes feare: from Snakes poyson: fearcenesse from wyld Beasts, from tame quietnes to take awaye? for looke what particular and speciall thinges are geuen to wylde Beastes, those are to bée founde in one man altogether. And if true it be which Phisitions affyrme, that cherefulnesse hath abiding in the Splene, anger in the Gaule, luste in the Lyuer, and feare in the harte, then easier is it to slay▪ then to plucke any thing out of the bodie, that is to alter the naturel & disposition of man.

But these wyse men perceaue not that when they take vices out of man, they take vertue also, which only they would, should haue the rule and gouernment of him. For if it be the part or propertie of vertue, in the mydst of anger to brydle & suppresse that vnruly affection (which

they can not deny) then must he néeds be without vertue, which is without anger: and if is be vertue to contain y^e insatiable desire of the flesh within his bounds, then must he needes lacke vertue, which is without y^e lust which he should asswage: & againe if it be a part of vertue to bridle the desire from coueting that which is a∣nother mans, then can he haue no vertue which hath not that in the suppressing of which the vse and office of vertue con∣sisteth. And therefore except there bée passions and perturbations in man, ther is no place for vertue. Euē as there is no victorie, where as there is no aduersary. And therfore how precise in their opiniō the Stoikes haue bene, it may easily ap∣peare. Now the Perip. saye that a man shoulde be affectioned, but yet modicè meanly, and in his passions kéepe a mea∣sure: As though that then he should fall into none offence. But, as he offendeth aswell which goeth softlye, as he which runneth, if they both wander and be out of the waye: euen so is he aswell to bée reprehended, which is subiect to pertur∣bations, though it be but in measure, as he which immoderatly doth serue them, if both be vnlawfull. For as directly to

walke is good, and to goe astraye daun∣gerous: so to be moued with affections to a good purpose is commendable, but to an yll ende and purpose altogether dam∣nable. For a more illustration, the bur∣ning desyre of the fleshe, though it bée without measure, as lōg as it is in law∣full Mariage, is without blame: but if it once desire another mans wyfe, though it be not in such burning, and vehement wyse is a most horrible crime. And ther∣fore to be angrie, to couet, to lust, is no offence, but to be an angrie, a couetous, and a lecherous man, deserueth great reproche. For he which is an angrye man, is moued, when he should not: and he which is couetous, desyreth which he ought not: and the lecherous hunteth after that which is vnlawfull. So that neyther can we saye with the Stoikes, that a man ought not, neither with the Peripatetions, that one shoulde some∣what sharply without any respect serue his affections: when as necessarye it is that perturbations should raigne for the illustratiō of vertue, and to haue them but a lytle, if it be not in respect of ver∣tue, and to a good entent is much to bée

reprehended. And therefore as that wa∣ter which is alwayes standing, and ne∣uer runneth, must néedes bée noysome and infectious: so that man, which is ne∣uer moued in mind, can neuer be eyther good to himselfe, or profitable to others. But haue them we must, and vse them we maye (and that aboundauntly) in ho∣nest wyse. And therefore the ende of our affections, make them eyther good, and so to be commended: or bad, & therefore to be dispraised. And thus briefly of the perturbations in general, and of the vse of them.

¶VVhat are Pertur∣bations. Chap. 2.

WE maye define perturbations ac∣cording to Zenons opinion,* 1.4 to bee contritions of the minde, contrarye to reason. Or as the auncient Academikes saye: They are affections of the minde, not obeying vnto the rule of reason. Or vnreasonable, or contrarye to nature, motions of the minde. Or they are de∣syres too much abounding in man. They are in number fowre, and may be deui∣ded

into two sortes, eyther in respect or opinion of Good, or Euyll. To the opini∣on of Good, are ascribed Pleasure, and Luste: vnder the opinion of Euyll, are comprehended Feare, and Sorrowe.

¶Of Pleasure, and her partes. Chap. 3.

* 1.5PLeasure, as in his bookes of Tuscula∣ne questions, Cicero saith, is a gesting ioyfulnesse, a ioyfulnesse shewed forth, and expressed by the gesture of the bodie. Which translatiō or Metaphor is taken from brute Beastes, whose propertie is not by wordes, but by signes, and skyp∣ping to signifie theyr meaning. By which it may be gathered, that this per∣turbation belongeth not vnto a reaso∣nable creature, or vnto one of a confir∣med iudgemēt, but rather vnto Beasts, Chyldren or lyght persons, which when they haue obtayned any good thing, can no otherwise signifie theyr delyght and ioyfulnesse, except eyther immoderatly they laughe, or vnreasonably leape for ioye. This pleasure the Stoikes affirme to bee an vnreasonable puffing vp of the

minde, supposing it selfe to enioye some great good thing.

Cicero in his seconde booke De finibus sayeth,* 1.6 Pleasure is a certaine pleasant mouing in the sense. Aulus Gelius sayth, it is a certain exultation, or an exc••eding reioysing, sprong of the euents of things desired. This Pleasure Aristotle makes of two sortes: one to come of ho∣nest and good things, the other of disho∣nest: and according to these two sortes, it hath two appellations geuen to it by the Latins. For in respecte of honest thinges, it is called Voluntas,* 1.7 but in re∣spect of dishonest Voluptas. And it is named Voluptas of one Volupe, or Vo∣lupia, which was Chamber mayde to that vertuous Gentlewoman, or patro∣nesse of pleasure Venus▪ So that the La∣tins séeme to take this pleasure,* 1.8 in the worser parte, but the Greekes indiffe∣rently: for they saye it is 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, whose deriuation is from sweetenesse or plea∣sauntesse. But to leaue the name,* 1.9 and come to the nature. Cicero wyll not haue a wyse man to be puffed with this pleasure: and Plato sayth it is the foode of filthinesse, for it dulleth the witte,

weakneth the iudgement▪ and taketh a∣way vnderstanding. This pleasure is welbeloued, and hath many compani∣ons, especially, Ilwyl, Delectation, Ob∣lectation, Insultation, Boasting, Prodi∣gallitie, and Ambicion.

¶Of Ilwyll. Chap. 4.

* 1.10ILwyll is that which neuer speakes wel, neyther can take any pleasure at the prosperity of any man, but her own. And those which are affected with this qualitie, as they hate all men, so are they loued of none: and as they can take no delyght at anies welfare: so for their crooked and ouerthwart dealing, none taketh pleasure in them. One may easi∣ly knowe them, for they are in lookes grimme, in talke snappishe, in behaui∣our vnciuile, and in opinion peruerse. Such were doggish Diogenes,* 1.11 Heracli∣tus, and Timon of Athens vnciuile per∣sons: and for theyr straunge manners, termed haters of men.

It is reported of Phocion the Atheni∣an,* 1.12 that he woulde in nothing fulfyll the

request of the people, and therefore was he hated worser then a Toade. And Ci∣cero sharply reprehendeth Cato, for that he was in opinion so obstinate, that he woulde in no case agrée to any thing which was decreed by the people. To be bréefe, all Tyrauntes which rather seeke to be feared, then loued, are such kinde of men. And therefore is it a to∣ken of an abiect and seruile man, at ano∣ther mans prosperitie to be greeued: or to reioyce at the hurt of any man, espe∣tiallye because the common state of mankind is such, as none hath assurance of perpetuall felicitie. For he which is this daye in aucthority, to morrow may be displaced: and it is sayd that Fortune is lyke glasse, which then maye easily be broake, when it shyneth most.

¶Of Delectation. Chap. 5.

NOwe followeth Delectation,* 1.13 which by the sense of hearing creepes in∣to the mynde, and fylleth the same with much delyght. The Stoikes saye, that Delectatiō is a pleasure which infecteth

the mind by a certaine swéetenesse con∣ceyued by the eare. The fame is geuen to man to good purpose, and profitably (were it not he abused it) as by which we maye recreate the minde, and beare the incommodities of this lyfe, and the bet∣ter goe about our businesse. For by this we expell cares, and after a sort féele no paines in the thinges we take in hande. For certainly, the state of vs is such, as except some recreation, wée had cares would ouercome vs. But to leaue men, which with singing, rithmes, & other in∣struments of Musick are marueylously delighted: are not y^e very Birds by a con∣cent & swéete variety of voyces, are as it were nourished, & man by their melodie greatly delighted? Hath not our most bountiful God in diuine sort, & myracu∣lously indued them with a perfect, & su∣per excellent harmoni••? who is he which heareth the swéete melodie of the Nigh∣tingal,* 1.14 & is not stroken with admiration? especially▪ when he shall consider howe pleasant a voyce is in so small a bodie? what an artificial sound in a naturall, & brute creature? and the same vttred not s••rekingly, but in nomber and good har∣monie.

So that the most learned in olde time, haue thought that this birde hath not onely the art of Musicke by nature perfectly, but also by discipline & practise to attaine to the perfect habite therof di∣ligently: and hereof it commeth, y^e some say, the olde teach the yong, & that theyr singing most effectually telleth & prog∣nosticateth things to come. It is repor∣ted that in Stesechorus mouth,* 1.15 being then a chyld, & in his swadling clowts, a Nightingall sang swéetely, which those who professed the knowledge of inter∣preting the singing of Byrds, sayde: dyd sygnifie that, that chylde Stesechorus should proue a rare and excellent Poet, and so he dyd. But to leaue the illustra∣tion of this matter by examples, espe∣ciallye the thing being so playne, this parte of pleasure, delectation, is a good thing, and maye bée vsed to the profyte, and commoditie of man, if it bée refer∣red to those ends aboue mencioned, that is, to our recreation, when cares trouble vs, to cause vs to beare discommodities of this lyfe patiently, and chéerefully to goe about our businesse.

¶Of Oblectation. Cap. 6.

A Familiar companion of Delectati∣on,* 1.16 is Oblectation: and therefore be∣cause they haue great affinitie, they shal immediatly one followe the other. It maye seeme by sounde, to be almost one with Delectation: but as in sounde they haue a difference, so in sense they are diuers, and one more generall then the other. For (as it is aboue sayd) Delec∣tation in the pleasure of the eare consi∣steth, but Oblectation stretcheth farder, and many wayes pleasureth a man. The Stoikes saye, that Oblectation is a certaine bending, or inclination of the mind, to a pleasure gently and sweete∣ly mollif••yng the minde. This Oblecta∣tion, except it be carefully restrayned by the raynes of reason, it so ouercommeth a man, that it makes him effeminate, and so spoyleth him of discretion, that his onely care and study is howe to fyll him selfe with pleasure, which is his chiefe felicitie.* 1.17 With this vice the Scythians were so ouercome, that in beastlynesse, they exceeded y^e brutish kinde. With this

vice was Sardanapalus so brought into slauery, that he could not be one minute without pleasure, whose poesie was Ede, bibe, lude post mortem nulla voluptas, whiche maye bee thus interpreted,

Eate drink, and passe the time with play, For mirth is none, when life is fled away.

But most shamefullye, dyd certayne Kinges and Princes of Asia,* 1.18 submitte them selues to this, more then brutishe Oblectation. For theyr custome was before any Maide of theyr Dominions could be maryed: fyrst to haue a syght of them, and, if it were theyr pleasures, to take from them the flowre of theyr Vir∣ginity. And the better to be delyghted▪ they had so warely enacted, that none durst marrie where hée fancied, except fyrst he had craued a speciall warrant from the Kinges person. It is therefore the duetie of euerye well disposed per∣son, by al meanes possible, to flye al pro∣uocations to this Oblectation: and espe∣cially at the begynning to sée to himself, for if they once come to a custome, they wyll easilye come to a habite and ha∣uing got an habite in pleasure, impos∣sible

it is almost to put it awaye and to be endued with vertue.

¶Insultation. Chap. 7.

NExt vnto Oblectatiō, followeth In∣sultation,* 1.19 a fowle affection and vn∣méete for a reasonable man. This In∣sultation is an excéeding delyght & plea∣sure taken at the hurts of another, espe∣ciallye as when we ouercome our ene∣mies, to laugh them to scorne, & vnrea∣sonably to reioyce at the same. In fielde to be a conquerour is a glorious thing, but miserable captiues to haue in derisi∣on, who wyl commend? for vanquishing Hector,* 1.20 who wyll not prayse Achilles? But in shamelesse drawing Hector a∣bout the walles of Troy, who can but blame Achilles? By ouerthrow of his e∣nemies Scylla got renowne, and for his valiantnesse who dicsommendes him?* 1.21 But when he can not be content with victory, but wyl take his enemies bones then buried, & flyng them into the Sea, who cryes not out of Scylla? So y^e more shame for their Insultation, then Fame for their victories haue they purchased. But contrarywise, so farre from insul∣ting

haue wise & prudent captains ben, that some haue lamented the death euen of their verie enemies, and some haue loued them for their great valiantnesse. And therfore Iulius Caesar, though much reprehended in respect of the ciuile dis∣corde betwéene him & Pompey,* 1.22 yet is he greatly adorned with cōmendations, for seuere punishing the most cruell mur∣therers of his capital Pompey. And so Hanniball because of Marcellus, and A∣lexander in respect of Darius,* 1.23 haue gotte double honour: honour by reason of vali∣antnesse, and honour because of gentle∣nesse: one by sending the dead corps of Darius rychly adorned with the roabes of Alexander to the Quéene of Darius: the other by causing y^e reliques of Mar∣cellus to be put in a vessell of Syluer,* 1.24 with a Crowne of gold on the same, and for a token of good wyll to be sent to the sonne of Marcellus. So that asmuch ho∣nour for theyr clemencie, as glorye for theyr victorie they haue atchieued. And therefore as one is not onely to be desy∣red, but also carefully to be sought for: so the other is so far from being cared for, that all men ought to hate Insulters.

And thus much for Insultation. Now let vs orderly proceede, and speake som∣what of braggers and boasting.

¶Of Boasting. Chap. 8.

MVch lyke vnto Insultation is vaine Boasting, and it is according to the minde of Cicero,* 1.25 a iesting ioyfulnesse, exalting it selfe insolently. Which af∣fection is much to be reprehended in all, but then is it most odious, when as wise men are defyled with the same. For it maketh them not onely with pride to be puffed, but also ridiculous, and to be de∣rided of all men. And such may be com∣pared vnto that vaine Souldior in Te∣rence,* 1.26 who by immoderate praysing him selfe, is a good vice to make wyse men sport. Euen as the shadowe doth followe the bodie, so should Fame follow good deedes,* 1.27 it ought not to be hunted af∣ter. He which hath worthely brought any thing to passe, should looke for com∣mendatiōs by others, but himselfe ought not to seeke it. And to saye the trueth, euerye good man is content, and taketh

delight in his owne conscience, his praise by others if he do heare, it inflameth him not, if he heareth not, he careth not. But what shall I saye? I see the nota∣blest men defyled with this fowle affec∣tion. And of all sorts some are boasters. Of Poets and Oratours Cicero repor∣teth that he knewe many,* 1.28 both Poets and Oratours, and yet he neuer knew any which thought another better then himselfe.

Zeuxis that notable Painter, when he had finished the Picture of Atalanta,* 1.29 being stroken with admiration of his owne worke, brake into these words, & writt the same vnder the Table: I war∣rant any Painter wyl sooner enuie then imitate my dooing. O foolish Zeuxis, who heareth these thy wordes & doth not condempne thée of foolyshnesse? Pom∣peius the sonne of Pompey the great, hauing on the Seas put to flyght his e∣nemies would needes for that exployte of his, be called not,* 1.30 the sonne of Pom∣pey, but the sonne of Neptume. And this worketh boasting, it makes vs not onely to forget our selues, and the cause of our wel doing, which is God indéede,

but also to be ashamed euen of our own Parents, then which what can be more impietie?

¶Of Prodigalitie. Chap. 9.

PRodigality is next, another notable part of Pleasure. The Stoikes cal the same a dissolution or a too much loasing of vertue.* 1.31 A Prodigall mannes pro∣pertie is to couet other mens goodes, and not to care for his owne: to spende lustely, and to fare deliciously: so hée hath, he cares not howe he gets it, and so he spendes he cares not, howe, when, or who consumes it. Nothing can make him thrifty, no not admonitiō of frends: nothing can make him kéepe a measure, no, neyther feare of pouertie, nor feare of punishmēt. This Prodigality the A∣thenians sayd was a token of him which desired to raigne like a Tyraunt. And therefore Aristophanes the Poet, in the presence of the people,* 1.32 exclamed & sayde, that it was not meete a Lion shoulde be nourished in a common weale, for if he shoulde, men must serue to satisfie his appetite. The Poets call dissolute and prodigall men loase & vngirdled, which is taken from Venus gyrdle,* 1.33 which be∣ing

once loased, she alureth vnto wicked concupiscence whom she listeth. Homer writeth that by the loasenesse of this gyrdle, Iupiter was inflamed with de∣sire of his owne sister Iuno.* 1.34 And hereof it commeth, that all such as doo vnlaw∣fully desire copulation with any ioyg∣ned to them by alliaunce, are called In∣cests, as it were, loase & without girdle. For Cestos in Gréeke is a girdle,* 1.35 and Jn∣cestus without a girdle. There are which call this Prodigality, Luxuriousnesse, & mē affected with y^e same Luxuriousnes:* 1.36 euē as we cal boanes & members put out of theyr place, loasened, so are they called Luxurious, in which there is no place either for reason or vertue. And therfore nothing is more vnméete for a mā then Prodigality, which makes him carelesse in al his enterprises: whereof he is ter∣med loase and dissolute. With this vice especially haue bene noted Elpinor a fellow & companion of Vlysses,* 1.37 whom the Poets faigne, because of his beastly behauiour, to haue liued among Swyne and Hogs: and whose ende was lamen∣table by falling from a ladder, as the end of all prodigall personnes, for the most part is straunge and wicked:

And one Fabius, which because of his great expences,* 1.38 was named Fabius Gurges: And so was Apicius, who after he had by banquetting and good chéere, spent his whole patrimonie, at length because he would not leade a poore and miserable lyfe, tooke a halter and hong him selfe.

¶Of Ambition. Chap. 10.

* 1.39THat which occupieth the last place a∣mong the parts of pleasure, is Ambi∣tion: which the Gréekes cal 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 a loue and care of promotion. And they saye, it is an vnmeasurable desire of glory: or an opinion most vehement, and infixed in the minde, as though it were greatly to be wyshed for. This Ambition the Poet Euripides crieth out of, as the most daungerous thing in a common weale. To which Cornelius Tacitus agréeth, and sheweth the cause and endes of Ambition after this man∣ner. The desire of principalitie hath bene of long time in the minds of men: it then brake out and increased, when Princes began to enlarge theyr domi∣nions.

For when aucthoritie was but small, equalitie was accoumpted of: but when they began to conquer kingdoms, to subiect the whole worlde, when they enuied the felicite of common weales, and desired the euersion & ouerthrowe of all: then euen among them selues (meaning the Romaines) beganne this Ambition also, sometime the people a∣gainst the Senatours contended, some time troublesome Tribunes, woulde beare the sway, by and by the Consuls, after them sprang C. Marius, and tyran∣nical Sylla,* 1.40 which would alter the whole state of Rome, and raigne at theyr plea∣sure: after them came Pompey & Cae∣sar,* 1.41 who could not abide to be in subiec∣tion to any: for it is written, that one (Pompey) could abide no equal, and the other (Caesar) would suffer no superior: Both (as Tullie wryting to his friende Atticus, sayth) did seeke not the profiting & commodity of their countrey, but their priuate commoditie. And therfore true is the saying of Themistocles (touching himselfe and Aristides,* 1.42 who enuied each other to the death, and would rule with∣out controlement) except he (speaking

to the Athenians) except ye cast me and Aristides out of your Citie, into the bot∣tome of the Sea, ye shall neuer haue a quiet Athens. And so truely it may be sayde, except ambitions persons be cut from euery commmon weale, impos∣sible it is to be without ciuile & continu∣all discord. This ambitiō Theophrastus amongst men doth detest,* 1.43 as a shameful thing, but in yong men, and those which apply them selues to the studie of good learning, he greatly commendeth, and supposeth to be a notable occasion that they maye the more couragiouslye giue them selues to studie, and the better profite in the same: and in them it is cal∣led Emulation.* 1.44

¶Of Lust. Chap. 11.

WE haue spoken alreadye of Plea∣sure,* 1.45 & her companions, now wyl we lykewise declare what Lust is, and who are in subiectiō vnder her. It is de∣fined to be eyther a desire raised against reason: or a wilde and vnbridled appe∣tite, which, in whomsoeuer it raignes

so kylleth all good motions, that vertue can haue no place in the minde of him. It is a wylde and vnruly colt, & néedeth a skilfull ryder: else wyl it breake other mennes hedges, and spoile good & vertu∣ous plants: it wyll make a man to haue neither care of his owne good name, nor consideration of the shame whiche his posterity shal haue by his wicked liuing. Diogenes sayde, that this Lust was the towre of mischiefe.* 1.46 And very well may it so be called, for it hath in it many shamelesse defendours, as Néedinesse, Anger, Wrath, Palenes, Hatred, Dis∣cord, Loue, & Longing, all iolly felowes, and of great experience, whose skylful∣nes and power shalbe declared in order.

¶Of Needynes. Chap. 12.

NEedynesse is called of the Stoikes,* 1.47 an insatiable coueting, or a desyre without all measure immoderate. And then it appeareth, when as wée, hauing enioyed our desyre, seeme to bee no∣thing the better for it. And it is ter∣med of Plato Couetousnesse.

The Stoiks wryte, that this Needinesse commeth not of great penurie, but of great abundaunce. For he which pos∣sesseth much, néedeth much. And there∣fore, where lytle is, litle is the care, and litle ought for to be coueted.

The elder Cato was wont to say, that he stoode in néede of many thinges,* 1.48 and yet he coueted nothing. And sayde he, if there is, which I maye vse, I vse it, if not, I am he which can vse and enioye my selfe lawfully. M••n obiect vnto mée, that I néede many thinges, and I tell them that they knowe not howe to lack. And notable is that sentence: Coue∣tousnesse is the desire,* 1.49 and studdie to get money, which no wise man euer hath wished, for that (as it were infected with a contagious poyson) doeth effeminate both body & soule of man: it is neuer mi∣nished, neither with lack, nor with abū∣dance: and it lacketh aswel those things which it enioyeth, as which it wanteth. M. Cato, in his Oration which he made for the reformation of manners:* 1.50 sayde, that Prodigallitie and Couetousnesse were the two plagues which ouerthrew great and famous kingdomes. This

Perturbation of the minde, doeth not onely bring Princes into contempte with the people, but also causeth a spee∣die reuenge.

Platoes counsayle is verie good which sayth,* 1.51 that he which would bée counted riche, ought not to heape much money together, but rather to quiet and keepe vnder his desire. For impossible it is but he should be alway poore, which hath no ende of coueting. And therefore is Couetousnesse well compared to the dropsie: and couetous men,* 1.52 to those which are infected therewith. For as those which haue the dropsie, doo thyrste the more, the more they drinke: euen so couetous men, the more they prossesse,* 1.53 the more they woulde. And as those whiche are bitten by a certaine Viper named Dypsas, doo vnreasonably thirst, and by howe muche they drinke, by so much are from easing theyr paine: euen so those which are bytten with this Vi∣per couetousnesse, are alwayes thirstie, & the more they possesse, the more theyr dissease encreaseth. Plato in his thirde booke De Repub. would haue both plen∣ty and pouerty to bee banished out of his

common weale, the one because it cau∣seth Pleasure, Idlenesse, and Ambition: the other because it maketh abiectes, se∣ditious, and men geuen to all filthy lu∣cre. Therefore wyl we here conclude and saye with Solon, that riches ought to be gottē, but yet after honest meanes, not couetously, that is by wicked artes. Malè parta, malè dilabuntur, Ill gotten goodes, are ill spent, sayth Tullie.

¶Of Anger, VVrath, Palenes, Hatred, and Discorde. Cap. 13.

ANger is defined after two sortes, ei∣ther according to her nature,* 1.54 or ac∣cording to her effect. Those which ex∣pound the nature of it say, it is a heate of blood, and inflaming of the same, euen to the innermost part of man. According to the effect it is thus defined: Anger is a lust or desire to punishe, or to be reuen∣ged on him, which seemeth to haue hurt vs.* 1.55 Wrath is a desire to be reuenged, seekinge a tyme or oportunitie for the

same. The one of these consisteth in ha∣bite and disposition, the other in déede and effect. Lactantius sayth,* 1.56 that the an∣ger of Superiours towardes their infe∣riours, that is, of Magistrates towardes wicked violatours of the lawe, is good and profitable for a common weale, but when inferiour personnes are moued with the same one against another, then is it both daungerous and damnable: daungerous because that if they shoulde be resisted, it must néedes followe that some be hurt or slaine, from whence ry∣seth part taking, dissention, and warre: and damnable, because it is against the commaundement of God, who wyl∣leth vs to be in loue and charitie with all men. Great care haue wyse men had for the subduing of this affectiō.* 1.57 Clinias by playing on the Harpe, and Theodo∣sius by reciting the Alphabete, dyd for∣get their anger. Ciceroes counsayle de∣serueth to be remembred, which is:* 1.58 I doo not here contende, that as at all tyme, so especially in this our age it is a harde thing to alter the minde, and so∣dainly to plucke awaye that which by custome is come to an habite: but this I

admonish you, that if you can not auoide it, that before your minde bee occupied with anger, then reason coulde foresee it shoulde be occupied, you ought so to frame your selfe, and daily haue this in minde, Anger should be resisted. And when anger most doth moue you, then shoulde you most carefullie kéepe the tongue: which thing to doo, seemeth to mee as great a vertue, as not to bee an∣grie at all. For at no tyme to be angrie is not onely a great poynt of grauitie, but of gentlenesse, but for to temper both talke and thought, when you are angrie, or else to holde your peace, and to suppresse the motion and griefe of minde, although it be not of perfect wis∣dome, yet is it a token of a rare wytte: Hitherto Cicero.

The next and thirde in order is Pale∣nes,* 1.59 which is called an anger newly be∣gon, or but newly beginning, and after a litle whyle is quickly gone. A man so affected is soone hote, and soone colde, be∣cause reason ouercommeth the outragi∣ousnesse of the passion. For if it shoulde persist and continue long, it would easi∣ly come to hatred. Which according to

the minde of Cicero, is an olde grudge:* 1.60 or as Zeno defineth. It is a certaine de∣sire by which we wishe ill to some body, that so we maye come eyther to welth, promocion or profite.

Here it is not impertinent to distin∣guish Hatred from Anger: for they may seeme to be all one, and to haue the same nature:* 1.61 but Aristocle doth as notably as learnedly, shew the difference betwéene them. For (saith he) Anger springeth frō an iniurie done vnto vs: but hatred of∣tentymes is conceiued of none occasion. For by and by, as sone as we conceyue an yll opinion of any man, at the same tyme we beginne to hate. Againe, we are angrie with some perticular persōs, with this man, or that man? but ha∣tred most commonly is against a whole company: as euery man that hath the feare of God before his eyes, hateth all droonkardes, théeues, whoremongers, and generally, all wicked men lewdly bent. Againe, tyme can aswage anger, but hatred once rooted, can not be (or ve∣rie hardly) pluckt from the hart. Moreo∣uer, he which is angrie desireth to bring vexation and griefe, to him whome he

is offended withall: but he which hateth seeketh to destroy. An angrie man wyll be known: but an hater cares not much for that. The thing which an angry man wyll doo, may be sensibly perceiued: but the hurts which a hater doth, can not by sense be knowne, as iniustice, sclander, and such like. Besides, griefe doth ac∣company Anger, but Hatred is without griefe, and paste al shame. Furthermore Anger is driuen away by reuenge, but hatred no calamitie can put away. To conclude, he which is angrie desireth to haue him vexed, with whome he is an∣grie, but he which hateth, desireth his death, whome he doth hate.

* 1.62The last is Discorde, which Cicero defineth to be an angre conceyued euen at the verie hart by an extreme, and in∣warde hatred. He which laboureth of this disease, as an vnprofitable member shoulde be cutte from the body of a com∣mon weale. For he can agrée with none, he can yeelde to none, but dissenting from all, seeketh by conspiracies, insur∣rections, poysoning of Princes, the plaine euersion and ouerthrowe of all.* 1.63 Cicero sayth, that Non potestatum dissi∣militudo sed animorum disiunctio dissensio∣nem

facit: Not the inequalitie of power▪ but the disiunction of mindes, maketh dissension. And Salluste verie notably sayeth: That by discorde the greatest thinges come to naught: which agréeth to that fiction of the Poets, who say, that by discorde, which is called Alecto,* 1.64 one of the furies of hell, the worlde, and all things else shall perishe. All these affec∣tions in this Chapter contained, so de∣pende one of the other, as if they were lynked together with a chaine. And therefore they ought very warely to be suppressed, least they bring vs into a mad estate. And that the more wylling∣ly it may be done, I wyll declare the ef∣fectes of one, which in respect of other is not so hurtfull, that by the same, the o∣ther which can hurt more, may be the better auoyded, which is Anger. It is written, & experience proues the same,* 1.65 that an angrie man, when he is in his heate, differeth not from a madd man. Behold his lookes, his color, his gesture, voyce, wordes and behauiour, and no difference shall you finde. Examples we sée many, and wonder at them.* 1.66 A∣lexander in his anger, caused his trusty and most faithfull Clito most cruelly to

be slaine:* 1.67 Dionysius the Syracusane, in his rage, kylled his best beloued Page, but when the fury was paste, and they came to them selues, they did so repent them, that for very sorrowe desperately they woulde haue slaine them selues. Periander lykewise in his rage, murthe∣red his owne wife:* 1.68 but whē with iudge∣ment he had considered the facte, he cau∣sed the strumpets and concubines which incensed him thervnto, with fire & fagot to be consumed. But what ne••de I to recite these examples? Or why do we so much wonder at tyrants, whē as graue men and of great iudgement, haue bene subdued by this furious affection? Be∣tweene Aeschylus and Sophocles about versefiyng,* 1.69 there was sometime no smal contencion, in which by the sentence & iudgement of those which were present Sophocles was preferred. Aeschylus toke the same so gréeuously, that for very an∣guishe of minde, he coulde neither abide the presence of his friendes, nor any bo∣dy else, but fledde presently into Sicilia, where obscurely he liued, and at length by thought dyed miserablie. The lyke * 1.70is written to haue happened to Calchas

a soothsayer, at his returne from Troy. For comming into tryal with Mopsus,* 1.71 one of his profession, and being ouercom did so, for verie anger, torment him self, that within short tyme he dyed of that angrie conceyte. And had not Plato by learned perswasions altered the minde of Niceratus a yong man of good disposi∣tion, and excellent in Poetrie,* 1.72 he had in such sort dispatched himselfe. For some∣tyme great emulation there was be∣tweene this Niceratus and one Antima∣chus in Poetry,* 1.73 and as the custome was openly they celebrated the praise & com∣mendation of Lysander in verses. Now Lysander hauing harde them both, dyd much estéeme the verses of Antimachus better then the other, although in deede by the sētence of those which had iudge∣ment in Poetrie, Niceratus had deser∣ued more commendation & preferment. Which sinister sentence of wise Lysan∣der, so greeued him at the very hart, that he was determined to forsake & leue the studdie of good literature. But Plato by graue counsayle turned his minde, and made him of a dissolute, a diligent student in Poetrie.

¶Of Loue. Chap. 14.

THe greatest, and most burning affec∣tion is Loue.* 1.74 Which may easily be proued both by the aucthority of Plato, & other men of great countenaunce. Plato amongst the fowre kindes of diuine fu∣rors accompteth Loue:* 1.75 the first he cal∣leth Propheticall,* 1.76 whose president is A∣pollo: the seconde is Mysticall, whome Bacchus: the thyrde is Poeticall, whome the Muses: the last is Amatoriall (if so I may saye) whome Venus gouerneth, by which he woulde shewe no other thing, but that Loues force is diuine & super∣naturall. Certaine of the later Acade∣miks affirme that Loue is a diuine my∣sterie, geuen vnto man for his conserua∣tion and comfort. And they proue the same by the examples of Ariadnes, and Medea.* 1.77 For had not Theseus of Ariad∣nes, and Iason of Medea bene much este∣med, theyr names at this daye had not bene remembred, neither had they by victories gotten such renowne. Chrysip∣pus is of their opinion, and he sayth, that

Loue is the bonde of friendship, neyther doth he thinke it shoulde be dispraised, sith bewty & fayrenesse, are, as it were, the flowre of vertue.* 1.78 The Stoikes wyll permit (although other affections they can not abide to sée in a wyse man) the Stoikes I saye, wyll permit euen a wise man to loue, and espetially those young men, which with the bewtie of the face, haue a dexteritie of witte: and yet shoulde not so estéeme the fayrenesse of the face, as the shewe of vertue, signifi∣ed thereby. Which when Cicero con∣sidered, hée sayde,* 1.79 hée dyd not a lyttle maruell, why at no tyme men haue lo∣ued eyther an olde man, that was bew∣tifull, or a yong man deformed: but at length, as enforced to descende into theyr opinion, he sayde, well, let it be so (as you Stoikes saye) that a wyse man maye loue, I doo not gainesaye, as long as he maye loue without care, and sigh∣ing. The Peripatetions, when they define friendshippe, to bée an equite of reciprocall, or mutuall good wyll, make thrée kindes of the same friendship, one they call neyghborhoode, the other hospi∣talite, and the last Loue.

The Mistresse of this Loue is delight,* 1.80 which by the aspect and sight of beautie is taken. For whosoeuer in vewing and beholding taketh no pleasure, can at no time loue in deede.

* 1.81When this loue is confirmed eyther by gifts or by studie of vertue, then goeth it from a passion, to a perfect habite, and so leaueth the name of Loue, and is cal∣led Friendship, which neither tyme nor distance can violate, of which hereafter. Zeno, although he were the Prince and chiefe of the Stoikes, which so muche praise this affection, and saide it was méete and necessarie, that young men shoulde be Louers: yet he sayeth, that loue is an vnsatiable desyre, intruding it selfe into man by some wonderfull beautie. And he sayth that this affection neuer poysoneth wise men, because it is an extreeme enemie to vertue, neither wyll it suffer the affected otherwise to be occupied, then in contemplating of a thing most vaine. Whose opinion see∣meth to be true: and if we consider of the same rightly, we shall no otherwyse but with Zeno confesse, that it is a passiō vnmeete for a wise man, an enemie to

good wyttes.* 1.82 The effectss of Loue are straunge, and the verie remembraunes and reading of them ought to make loue to be odious, and more to be shunned then any other Perturbation, which men are subiect vnto. For it suffreth the passioned neuer to be in quiet, but con∣tinually tormented. Harke I pray you howe a yong man, which Plautus brin∣geth forth in one of his commedies, la∣menteth his miserable estate, in bytter sort: I actor, crucior, agitor, stimulor, ver∣sor, in amoris rota miser exanimor, feror, distrahor, diripior, vbi non sum, ibi sum, ibi est animus: What more could be sayde? I am tossed, I am vexed, I am plucked, I am pricke••, I am turned, on Loues whéele, ah wretche, I am killed, I am torn, I am stolne, where I am not, there I am▪ there is my hart. Who doth not lament his case? Harken what another sayth:

Ah ego ne possum tales sentire labores? Quàm mallem in gelidis mōtibus esse lapis?

As though he should saye:

Ah silly soule can I sustaine, And still these labours beare?

Naie I for stone on top of hyll, VVould God were placed there.

Another sayth lykewise.

Durius in terris nihil est, quod viuat▪ amāte Nec modò si sapias, quod minus esse velis,

Which thus may be interpreted.

If thou art wyse, then nothing lesse, Then loue thou wylt desire: A harder thing is not then is, Of Loue the burning fire.

This Loue as it vexeth the mind, so it casteth the body into sicknesse, we sée the same dayly confirmed, with infinite ex∣amples. But I wyll recite but one or two. On a tyme Demetrius, sonne to Antigonus,* 1.83 being sore sick of this diseas, his Father came to visite him, and as he was entring into his chamber, met an harlot of rare bewtie, with whose loue Demetrius was tormented: then Anti∣gonus being entred, and wylled him to bee of good chéere, he tooke him by the arme to féele his pulses. But Demetrius tolde him that he was somewhat better, for euen nowe the Feuer lefte him. Then the King smyling, sayde, you saye

true my sonne, for I met her euen now at the chamber doore.

Selencus lykewise, King of Syria,* 1.84 had a Sonne, which was cast into a daun∣gerous disease, by a strange Loue. For it is reported, that the bewtie of his mo∣ther in lawe so inflamed him, as had not his Father pittied him, hée had finished his dayes. For his Father vnderstan∣ding the weakenesse of his sonne, the cause of his sicknesse, and waye to re∣store him to his former health, because he tendered his welfare, ioygned his wife to his sonne in mariage, and was content that his Quéene, & wife shoulde be a daughter in law vnto him. A strāge Loue, & a rare pittie. This Loue is the cause of deadly hatred, and can abyde no partner in the same.

It is reported that the cause of the ci∣uile dissention betweene Themistocles,* 1.85 & Aristides, was the loue of Stesilia that harlot: whose beawtie being vanished, (their hatred was such) as neuer coulde they be reconciled, and made friendes, but exercised capitall malice, betw••ene them selues, euen to the death. And it is thought that the priuie hatred

of Cato against Caesar,* 1.86 began about the harlot Seruilia, whome both loued en∣tierely, and continued betwéene them as long as they liued.

Now what shame Loue brings, let vs [ 4] behold. Semiramis, which by her noble∣nesse and vertue,* 1.87 surpassed not onely Queenes, but all Kings which had bene before her tyme, by this blinde affection was so ouercome, as her Fame is tur∣ned into a perpetual reproch. For being in Loue with her owne sonne, and allu∣ring him to commit incest with her, was deseruedly spoyled of this life: & for hope of a litle vaine, & foolish pleasure, lost that which is swéeter then all plea∣sure. L. Vitellius, lykewise being (ex∣cept for this one faulte) a right honest man,* 1.88 and of great estimation, by reason of a fond Loue which he bare to a maide, so defamed him selfe, as he was a laugh∣ing stocke vnto his neighbours and ac∣quaintaunce For he coulde not be con∣tent with enioying her at his pleasure, but must also openly euerie day playe with her and annoint her browes, and vaines most vainely. So that more shame by his fondnesse, then honour by

his innocencie he got vnto himselfe.

The Kinges of Assyria,* 1.89 are they not worthely for the loue of women con∣demned of wantonnesse? for, delighting in the company of women, them selues neuer aunswere any Embassadour sent vnto them, but by messengers they aunswere all, they sitting, play∣ing, and dallying with Concubines at their pleasure. So that this blinde Cupid not onely doeth bring vnquiet∣nesse to the minde, and sicknesse to the bodie: but also createth hatred a∣mong men, and bringeth shame to those which are vnmeasurably troubled with the same. And is this all? Noe forsooth. [ 5] Ex ducibus tauros saepè Cupido facit: It makes valiaunt Captaines, most vyle captiues: and those which are subduers of the stoutest, to be in subiection to the most effeminate abiectes. It was no small reproche to Hannibal in Salapia,* 1.90 to yeelde him selfe into the handes of an harlot, which he loued as his life: that deede of his hath obscured much of his glory, and is a good common place for some to dispraise him.* 1.91 Alexander also to his great shame, for the loue of the fa∣amous

harlot Thais,* 1.92 caused that most populous and riche Cittie Persepolis to be burned, and was not onely a com∣maunder, but also a committer of that shameful fact▪ for he was seene to runne about with burning fagottes, ready to consume that which was not yet set on fire. A straunge thing, that a man of a woman: an honest man of an harlot: a most noble Prince, of so notable a strumpet, whose onely care was not to profite, but to plague: not good, but vn∣gratiousnesse and mischiefe, should be so ouercome, as at her request, without a∣ny offence to consume, and set on fyre so glorious a Cittie, which at all tymes might haue bene a great succour vnto him, & profite to all the world Yet Loue conquered him, and caused him in his heate, to doo that which afterward he did not a lytle repent. Strange be the effects of Loue, which I haue already recited, but more strange are which they folow. Strange it is, that it should cause such a desyre of any, but more strange of har∣lots: wicked it is, that men in such sort shoulde wishe the company of any, but more wicked of their kinred: Horrible it

is to commit incest, but more horrible in such sort to fancie Beasts, and senselesse things: Diuillish it is to destroy a cittie, but more then diuillishe, to euert cit∣ties, to betraye countreies, to cause ser∣uaunts to kyll their maisters, parentes theyr children, children their parentes, wiues their husbandes, and to turne all things topsy turuy, and yet it doth so, as shalbe declared. Wicked it is, vnlaw∣fully to wish or couet the company of a∣ny, but more wicked to commit incest. Therefore, who, can too much dispraise that Semiramis, of whome I made men∣tion euen nowe, who by Loue enforced,* 1.93 requested, the copulation of her owne sonne? or that same Clodius,* 1.94 which toke the Virginitie from his owne systers? or that Pesiphae,* 1.95 who laye with her owne sonne?

Now with what words shal I inueygh [ 6] against those which haue bene enflamed not with women, but with men? As was Anacreon with Batyllus, whome hee compared with Iupiter him selfe:* 1.96 And Pindarus with another, in whome he was so delighted,* 1.97 as dallying him in his armes, he gaue vp the ghoste:

And Xenophon with Clinias who being departed out of this lyfe,* 1.98 Xenophon craued at the handes of Iupiter, that if it were his pleasure, that he but once shoulde haue the sight of Clinias, and afterward be blinde, or not sée him, and euer haue the vse of séeing, he woulde rather haue the sight of Clinias, and euer be blinde, then not beholde him, and ne∣uer be blinde. Horrible is this kinde [ 7] of Loue, but more, to fancie in such vn∣measurable sort,* 1.99 vnreasonable Beasts. As dyd Semiramis an Horse: and beast∣ly Pesiphae a Bull: and Cyparissus an Hart: and Aristomachus Bees.

But most horrible was the Loue of [ 8] Publius Pilatus, which miserably dyd delight in the Loue of the image of He∣lene,* 1.100 & Atalanta: and of two yong men of Athens, which were in Loue with the picture of good Fortune notably set forth.

By this affection was Troy, and many [ 9] other excellent Cities vtterly destroyed. By this Loue did Scylla betray both her Father and her countrey.* 1.101

This Loue caused the Tarentines to [ 10] come in seruitude with the Romaines: This Loue caused L. Pedanius Secun∣dus* 1.102

to be kylled of his owne seruaunts, because he tooke pleasure in that partie which was his delight.

This Loue caused Semiramis (which I haue so often named) to murther her [ 11] owne familiar friendes,* 1.103 because they should not blaze abroade their copulati∣on with her.

It caused Catiline, for the loue of Ore∣stilla, to kyll his owne sonne, begotten of [ 12] another woman,* 1.104 because she would not ioyne mariage with him, as long as his sonne lyued. It caused Laodice, wyfe vnto Ariartes King of Cappadocia, her husbande being dead,* 1.105 for the Loue of a knaue, which in her husbands time she kept, to murther fiue of her owne sōnes, least if they shoulde lyue, the adulterer whome she loued, shoulde be put from his kingdome. But contrary to her thinking, one was lyuing which tooke reuengement.

It caused the same Laodice, not onely in such sort, to murther her natural chil∣dren, [ 13] but also with poyson to destroy the King her husbande. Therefore this be∣ing spoken touching this affectiō Loue, it is meete that great heede be had for the

suppressing of it, least it grow to a mon∣ster, and bring forth deuillishe fruite, as is declared.* 1.106 Many remedies are prescri∣bed to ease the same▪ The Poets saye, [ 1] that in Leucadia, there is a verye highe and stéepe rocke called Leucates,* 1.107 which is a notable remedie to aswage Loue. From this rocke lepped fyrst of all Ce∣phalus,* 1.108 for the loue of Degonetes, which he loued without measure. The same Sappho is reported to haue done, be∣cause she could not purchase the sight of her beautifull Phaon.* 1.109 A straunge passi∣on which can not be eased,* 1.110 but by death, or the enioying of that which is coueted. To this agreeth that sentence of Crates [ 2] the Philosopher of Thebes. for he sayth, that Loue is remedied either by fasting,* 1.111 by tyme, or with an halter. For good chéere nourisheth, and encreaseth Loue: Tyme eyther doth take away, or at the least asswage the same: But if neyther fasting, nor tyme wyll doo good, then the next remedie and most readie, is to take an halter & hang him selfe: his words in Gréeke go roundly,* 1.112 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉,

But Ciceroes counsayle to asswage

Loue is good, and to be followed. His wordes be these: To a man tormented with Loue, this salue shoulde be mini∣stred. First he shoulde be tolde howe lyght a thing, howe vaine, and to bee contemned Loue is. Then shoulde his minde be brought to some other stu∣dies, cares, cogitations, and busines. Fi∣nally, by chaunginge of the place, euen as sicke men are vsed, it should be cured. Lykewise, men woulde that by some newe Loue, the olde infixed, as one nayle by another, shoulde be dryuen awaye. But the chiefest waye to alter the minde of a Louer, is to admonishe him what a furie it is: for of all Per∣turbations of the minde, there is none more vehement, and outragious, then is Loue, by which, whordome, deflow∣ring, adulterie, and incest are commit∣ted, eyther of them much to be reprehen∣hed. Hitherto Cicero.

Notable is the example of Spurina, a young man of rare and superexcel∣lent fayrenesse,* 1.113 whiche because hée perceyued many women to bée muche delyghted with him, and many Pa∣rentes

dyd suspect theyr chyldren, and many husbandes had theyr wiues in ielosie, both to auoyde all such suspiti∣on, and because none shoulde be in loue with him, by reason of his fayrenesse and rare beautie, he dyd in most pitti∣full sort, mangle and cut his nose and nostrelles, so that he seemed not onely deformed, but also odious to all men.

His meaning was verie good, and worthy to bee noated of all: and hee maye stryke a shame vnto all suche as by ill and wicked meanes, séeke to allure and entrappe well disposed per∣sons, and those which without such en∣ticementes, would be the seruaunts of God. But of this Perturbation suffi∣cient.

¶Of Desire, and Longing. Chap. 15.

THe last part of Luste, is Longing. which is an immoderate desyre of a thing wished for.* 1.114 And hereof it is sayde, that euen hastening is a lingring, to him

which longeth. Cicero, defines it after this manner, and sayth it is a Lust to sée that which is not present, and before vs. This affection amongst others is most lyght, and inuadeth none of the grauer sort, but either women, weake, or ef∣feminate persons.

Then euery thing is most estéemed, when either it beginneth to want, or we altogether lacke it. Wine seemeth then to be most delectable, when the cups are emptie: and the latter fruite is sweeter then the former. Women perswade them selues, if their husbands being ab∣sent, they can not heare from them, that without all peraduenture, they are ey∣ther dead, or in great miserie. Hereof is Penelope brought for an example,* 1.115 whi∣che with pittifull outcryes, and lamen∣tations, bewayleth the absence of her Vlysses, and because she would deceaue tyme, she tooke webbe and distaffe in hande, so to mitigate somewhat, her en∣creasing sorrowes. This Longing like∣wise caused Sappho, when she coulde not quietly beare the absence of her be∣loued Phaon,* 1.116 desperatly to cast her selfe from a most high rocke, and so eased her

griefe by kylling her selfe, wherefore it appeareth that then we knowe what a thing is, and of what estimation, when we haue it not: whereof proceedeth this Longing. Homer, when he lyued was of none accoumpt,* 1.117 euerie man contem∣ned him, and none woulde vouchsafe to accoumpt him their countreyman▪ but Homer being dead, was both lacked and longed for. Insomuch that seuen famous and notable citties,* 1.118 namely, Smyrna, Rhodes, Colophon, Salamis, Ius, Argos, and Athens, made warre for his bones, and then euery one coulde chalenge him for theirs, and be desirous, that his fame should bring renowme to them. The vn∣finished picture of Tyndarides to Nicho∣machus,* 1.119 and of Medea to Timomachus: and of Venus to Apelles, dyd strike a greater desire, then if they had bene per∣fectly consummate. But of this affection we wyl speake no more, but onely this, that it is vnméete for a wise man (whose part is to beare patiently, which must needes be borne) to be subiecte to this Perturbation.

¶Of Feare and Sorrowe, two Pertur∣bations, which trouble our mindes, through an opinion of euyll towardes vs. Chap. 16.

IN our begynning, we deuided Per∣turbations into two sorts, either in re∣spect or iudgement of Good, or of Euyll. In respect of Good, were Lust and Plea∣sure, in opinion of Euyll, Feare, & Sor∣rowe. Of the former we haue alreadie spoken sufficiently: nowe let vs in lyke sort illustrate, and make plaine those which followe. And first we wyll speake of Feare, and of his partes.* 1.120 Which Cicero, according to the opinion of the Stoikes, defineth to be an opinion of some Euyll comming towards vs, whi∣che séemeth to be intollerable. Varro thinketh this feare to haue his deriua∣tion from the mouing of the minde, and Metus he sayth, is quasi motus animi,* 1.121 A mouing of the mind. For it séemeth that the minde is fled, and the bodie muche terrefied, when some Euyll happeneth▪ or is towardes vs.

Feare hath many parts, but especially

Slothfulnesse, Bashfulnesse, Terror, Dreade, Trembling, Astonishmēt, Cō∣turbation, & Fearefulnesse: As vnméete for euery man. The Stoikes with whom the auncient Academikes agree, doo say, that there be three good affections, agree∣ing to vertue, to wyt Gladnesse, Wyll, and Héede.* 1.122 Gladnesse they saye is a cer∣taine reasonable quiet & sweete plesure, contrary to Sorrow: Wyll is a desyre, agreeing to reason, contrary to Luste: Heede is a wyse declining from Euyll, contrary to Feare. By which they seeme to infer, that a wise and valiant man, shoulde alwayes be heedefull, but neuer fearefull. For as Tullie sayth, there is more euyl in fearing, then in that which is feared. To this agreeth that of So∣crates, for he supposed Fortitude to be a science,* 1.123 and skyl, teaching to take heede. Which made Hannibal more then other Captaines to be diligent in preuenting a mischiefe, and therefore by a sodaine feare strokē, he neuer lost opportunitie. Contrary to that,* 1.124 Nicias the Athenian, which through Feare and cowardnesse, lost many opportunities. Therfore that which is done fearefully, or cowardly,

bringeth no small reproch to the dooers. Which made Tiberius Caesar,* 1.125 muche to be spoken against, for that for the least winde and tempest, he would hyde him selfe, and durst not shewe his face. It is the greatest token of victorie, when a Captaine is couragious, and it bringeth a stomacke to souldiors, when they be∣holde theyr guides not to be dastardes, but manfully to stande vnto it.

Alexander was wont to ouercome the fortune of his foes by audacitie,* 1.126 and theyr power by pollicie: whiche made him oftentymes to saye, that any thing might be done by couragiousnesse, but nothing by feare and dastardnesse. And he was so farre from feare, that vertu∣ously he woulde doo all thinges: as maye appeare. For being on a tyme in great daunger, neither coulde he ouercome without great slaughter of his men, was counsayled by Parmenio, by craft in the night to encounter,* 1.127 and so subtiltye should serue, when strength coulde not. But Alexander lyke a noble Captaine made aunswere, and sayde, that whiche thou counsaylest mée Parmenio, is ra∣ther the part and propertie of theeues,* 1.128

whose endeuor is by snares to entrap. And therefore so farre am I from imi∣tating suche kinde of men, that in open fielde I wyll encounter: It is not my purpose, that by subtiltie and wylynesse my fame should be obscured. And there∣fore I had rather to repent mée of my ill fortune, then to be ashamed of the victorie. Nowe of the partes of Feare, amongste the which Slothfulnesse, is first.

¶Of Slothfulnesse. Chap. 17.

* 1.129SLothfulnesse according to Cicero, is a feare of labor, to ensue. And therfore y^e same Cicero wryteth, that if Demost∣henes had séene any cittizen vp before him, and at worke, it would much haue gréeued him, for he was no sluggarde, neyther did he fauor any so bent: which made him proue so rare an example of a perfecte Orator. This diligence as it helpeth and prospereth al enterprises, so contrariwise, slothfulnesse marreth eue∣rie thing. And therefore, although euery man ought for to shun the same,* 1.130 yet e∣spetially Princes. Which is the coun∣sayle

of Pallas,* 1.131 whome Homer bringeth forth, saying: It is not for a man of auc∣thoritie to sleepe a whole night. He must be watchfull.* 1.132 Demetrius King of the Macedones, was stained with the blot of slothfulnesse, for that the lamentati∣ons of his oppressed subiectes, was not estéemed of him. Espetially it appeared by the example of a poore olde woman, which being iniured by some, craued iustice at his hands. But he aunswered, that he had no tyme to aunswere, when indede he was idle, and had no busines. But she nothing abashed, sayde: Then is it not meete you should rule, if you dis∣daine to heare the complaintes of your subiectes. Which boldnesse of the wo∣man, so moued him, that afterwardes his eares were open to the complaintes of all.* 1.133 Slothfulnesse ryseth oftentimes of too much abundaunce of any thing. As for example, we see the Sabies, be∣cause they haue in great abundaunce al kinde of riches, and marchantes bring them golde and siluer for theyr wares, by which meanes they proue very rich, without all care and labour, slothfully they spende their tyme.

* 1.134But contrariwise the Nabatheis, their neighbors hauing nothing, but y^• which by their vertue & labor they attaine, are verie good husbandes, and can abide no slothfulnesse, but idlenesse they punishe greeuously, and diligence they worthe∣ly rewarde. Homer, when he woulde mocke and deride idlenesse, brings forth the Pheacons, which accoumpt the grea∣test felicitie in dooing nothing.* 1.135 And those abounde in all kinde of worldly wealth, which encreaseth without any paines taking. If any businesse they haue, they refer the same vnto women, because them selues wyll not be trou∣bled with the matter.

Herodotus maketh mention of a cer∣taine idle people,* 1.136 which he calleth Loto∣phagie. They lyue by doing nothing, and they féede them selues, and make their apparell of the barke of certaine trees, named Lotus. Of which, if any eate,* 1.137 they are so delighted therewith, that all other they doo contemne. It is reported, that as many as haue fellow∣ship with these Lotophagies, become of theyr qualities, and are carelesse in all theyr doings, as happened vnto certaine

companions of Vlysses, so Homer sayth.* 1.138 Which is faigned of the Poets, to no o∣ther purpose, but to signifie that idlenes makes of men, women: of women, beastes: of beasts, monsters. Where∣fore it ought to be detested, because it is an enemie to vertue, and makes vs fearefull in doing any thing, be it of ne∣uer so light importaunce. Contra∣rie to this, is diligence, and industrie, by which that Demosthenes (of whome e∣uen nowe in this Chapter I made men∣tion) being of nature very dull and bloc∣kishe,* 1.139 passed all those which of na∣ture, were of sharpe and rype capa∣citie. For it commeth to passe, and that oftentymes, that industrious, and di∣ligent men, by their paines excell euen those to whome nature hath bene most beneficiall.

And certaine it is, that most com∣monly where abundaunce is, there is most negligence: and where nature hath bene friendely, there is a cer∣taine vaine opinion, which causeth sloth∣fulnesse.

¶Of Bashfulnesse. Chap. 18.

THe next companion of Slothfulnesse is Bashfulnesse.* 1.140 The which is defi∣ned of the Stoikes to be a feare, of igno∣minie: or as A. Gellius sayeth, it is a feare of iust reprehension: or as another learned man defineth, it is a vehement motion of the minde, ••lying shame, desi∣ring commendation. Cicero calleth it the best ruler of the Lustes, when it is ray∣sed by the care and studie of honestie. I•• becommeth yong men verie well and is a token of a good wit, and disposition. Cato the elder was greatly delighted with such,* 1.141 as at the least faulte woulde blushe. And so was Diogenes the Cy∣nike.* 1.142 For when he talking with a yonge man, he perceiued his face to be red with blushing, sayd vnto him: be of good chéere my sonne, for this color, is the color of of vertue it selfe. But that I maye come vnto graue Cato againe, his delight was in those yong men, which in well doing woulde blushe, but he cared not for those which waxed pale. For the one was a signe of a good nature, but the other of

impudencie, a verie euyll qualitie. Some which write more properly, call this affection Shamefastnesse,* 1.143 and that the ambiguitie of the worde maye be shunned, they saye that Bashfulnesse is raised sometyme by ill déedes▪ but sham∣fastnes is alwaies through considerati∣on of goodnes. So this verbe impersonal Pudet,* 1.144 is referred both to a reuerence of honestie, and lykewise to a shame of vn∣honest thinges, and differeth from Piget.* 1.145 For the other Pudet to praise, and this Piget to dispraise▪ and griefe doth be∣long.

¶Of Terror. Chap. 19.

THe thirde parte of Feare, is called Terror.* 1.146 Which the Stoikes write to be a certaine feare, springing from the imagination of an vnaccustomed thing. Cicero saieth, it is a Feare much trou∣bling, by which it commeth to passe, that from Bashfulnesse, rednesse of co∣lor, but from this Terror palenesse, and cracking of the téeth, doth aryse. We may fetche the begynning of this worde

from the Greekes, if we alter but a fewe letters. For 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 signifieth to feare, with shaking of the body, and with pale∣nesse of the face. This affection becom∣meth not a constant, and valiaunt man, who shoulde alwayes bee reddie to suf∣fer all things patiently, without signe of a troubled mind.* 1.147 Aristotle affirmed him properlye to be called a valliaunt man, to whome the feare of an honest death, strucke no terror▪ and which was reddie to suffer all thinges, which coulde bring his death, patiently. They which in such wyse haue passed this lyfe, haue bene alwaies numbred among the best, and most renowmed. Which made So∣lon to enacte that those children,* 1.148 whose parentes in battayle had manfully bene slaine, should for the prowes of their pa∣rentes, be kept at the charges, of the common treasure. Wherefore it is the part of a vertuous, and valiaunt man, to hate this lyfe, and contemne death. And reason teacheth vs the same. Notable is that example of Q. Mutius Sceuola,* 1.149 whiche neyther for the armed crewe of lustie souldiours, nor for the austere lookes of cruell Sylla, which by his coun∣tenaunce,

seemed to threaten extréeme punishment to all the Romaines, coulde once be terrefied, but boldly, and slout∣lye, euen to the face of Sylla (which re∣quested of the Senate, that Marius shoulde be proclamed an enemie to the state) aunswered, I wyll not permit Sylla, through desire of prolonging my dayes, that Marius, whiche hath saued not onely this cittie,* 1.150 but all Italie shalbe iudged an enemie to his countrey. Of that minde was Marius (which reason and vertue had brought him into) that ••e thought nothing better, then to bee without the staine of an vncorrupt lyfe, which if he once were, nothing shoulde terrifie him from hazarding both lande and lyfe, for the keeping of the same. And therefore hee whiche is innocente, and without blame, ought not for to bee stroken with the terrour of any thing, syth it is the thing much dis∣praised of all wyse men, and practi∣sed of none whiche are stowte of sto∣mache.

¶Of Dreade. Chap. 20.

THe Stoikes saye, that Dreade is a feare of some euyll imminent,* 1.151 and at hande. And because it goeth before an effecte, they call it a Foregriefe: because that, that same Feare troubleth the minde before any euyll doo happen. To haue this Dreade is a token of an abiect minde, & seruile disposition. For it cau∣seth a man not to vse those benefits whi∣che God hath abundantly bestowed vpō him: & it maketh vs not to enioy our ri∣ches for feare we should lacke, nor other commodities of this life, through a feare of death. This infirmity of weaknesse of the mind causeth vs, that when we haue long wished for, and laboured earnestly to the attayning of some thing, when we haue gotten the same, not for to en∣ioye it, for feare of loasing, and lacking of it. This Perturbation can not, neither ought for to bée in a wise man, whose property is with a quiet minde to suffer al things, and whome prosperity cannot enflame with disdaine, nor aduersitie

ouerthrow, but according to the rule of reason, those things which he possesseth, he enioyeth, & those which he hath not, he doth not greatly couet. Yet belongeth it vnto euerie man, to haue a forecaste.* 1.152 For although from this Dread & Feare of loasing, we shoulde be free: yet ought euerie man to prepare him selfe, as hee may patiently suffer what shall happen: and with Theseus (whome Euripides maketh mention of,* 1.153 and Cicero doeth commende) say, I haue considered with my selfe what miseries maye fall, whe∣ther it be flight by banishment, or cruell death, or any thing els, because if any straunge calamitie shoulde chaunce, I woulde not be vnprouided to beare the same quietly.* 1.154 And Panetius geueth the same counsaile, for he would haue a pru∣dent man to prepare him selfe quietly to take all kinde of fortune, be it pleasant & prosperous, or bytter, & contumelious: And that we shoulde doo so, God hath so disposed thinges, that he wyll not suffer man to haue the knowledge of things to come. For if he had a prescience, & fore-knowledge of his prosperity, he would be

carelesse:* 1.155 and vnderstanding of his ad∣uersitie, he would be senselesse, and by a certaine feare in anguishe of minde, con∣sume him selfe. Againe, if that diuine propertie of knowing thinges to come, were ingrafted in the minde of man, who is he that would haue Hope (which is an opinion of goodnesse to come) a rare and most excellent vertue, and praysed not onely of diuines exceedingly, but worthely commended euen of Heathen Philosophers?* 1.156 Simonides the Poet, sayde, that Hope was the gouernour of men: and other Philosophers haue written, that Hope of all passions was the sweetest, and most pleasaunt. And hereof it is sayde, that Spes alit miseros, Hope comforteth captiues. Wherefore we wyll conclude this Perturbation, with an aunswere of Alexander the great,* 1.157 who liberally bestowing many thinges vpon his friendes, vpon a tyme Perdiccas spake vnto him, on this man∣ner:* 1.158 If you thus largely styll bestowe your goodes, O bountifull Prince, I maruell at the lengthe, what you wyll keepe for your selfe? Then aunswered Alexander, for my selfe I reserue Hope.

Supposing that a good & vertuous man shoulde onely hope well, and dreade no∣thing.

¶Of Trembling. Chap. 21.

NOwe followeth Trembling,* 1.159 whose companion is Astonishment, which is a very soddaine motion of the minde, ioygned with an amazednesse of y^e same, a stammering of the tongue, and a cea∣sing from labour and pains. It is called in Latin Pauor, which is deriued from the Greeke word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 which signifi∣eth Cessare fac••o: 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 is to ease, and sodainly to stande styll, which ap∣peareth in the nature of Trembling. It maye also be fetcht from an olde La∣tin word Pauire, which signifieth to hide, and hereof commeth our English worde Pauement. As we see in boyes, women, & weker persons, when they are stroken with any Feare, or Trembling, to hide theyr faces, eyther with a handkercher, or some thing else. But this is done at no tyme without great griefe of minde. Timanthes that notable painter,* 1.160 when he had finished the picture of Iphigenia,

in colors set forth Calchas to be sorrow∣full for the same,* 1.161 * 1.162 but Vlysses appeared to be more sad a great deale, but for to make her father Menelaus to appeare most sad and sorrowfull,* 1.163 he painted him with couered face. Thereby to shewe his great skyll: which was more wonderfull then the rest. Q. Curtius was wont to saye,* 1.164 that they doo best beare iniuries, which most diligently doo couer & hyde them.* 1.165 Caecilius prince of the writer of Latin commedies, sayde, that he was a wretch, which could not kéepe his grefes in secréete. M. Crassus hauing behaued himself in wicked sort toward the Par∣thians,* 1.166 when he sawe both his sonnes heads fastened to a speare, to be carried about, and his armie cruelly on euery side to be slaine, withdrew him selfe se∣creetely into an obscure place, and there lamenting his couetousnesse, rashnesse, & ambition, hyd himselfe a great whyle, & so repented him of his folly and wicked∣nesse. Brutus also being past all hope of ouercomming his capitall & deadly An∣tonie.* 1.167 went him selfe alone into a caue, and there vnfolded and vnburdened his griefe: and afterwards going into a more

cloase and secréete place, and hauing ge∣uen himself a deadly wound, brake into these wordes: Wicked men seeke the destruction of those whiche meane best: and so desperatly dyed. But of this affec∣tion sufficient, because which I haue al∣ready spoken, and shall speake concer∣ning feare, hath a great affinity, & doeth illustrate the same. Nowe concerning Conturbation somewhat.

¶Of Conturbation. Chap. 22.

COnturbation is defined of Cicero to be a feare much troubling vs,* 1.168 for it makes our cogitations, we being in a great perplexitie, doubtfull, and drawes the minde into diuers cogitations. The Stoikes say that Conturbation is a feare making the minde effeminate, and cau∣sing all our actions to be done with great difficulty and hardnesse. All wise men espetially, should be frée from this Con∣turbation. For it is an affection, con∣trary vnto Fortitude, without which nothing can be accomplished worthely, and with commendation.

I wyll bring forth the example of one, by whiche all other, whiche haue any

charge, and are in aucthoritie, may iudge what inconueniences doo happen, by ha∣uing troubled mindes. It is thought that the whole glorie of a battayle con∣sisteth in the pollicie of a captaine. For if true it be which Ephicrates wryt, An armie is as it were a lyuing creature,* 1.169 whose head is the captaine, whose breast are the well placed souldiors, his hands are footemen, and his legges horsemen, then must it needes followe, that as in a bodie, the head being troubled, the mem∣bers can not fulfyll their duties: so a captaine being in mind troubled, it must needes followe, that the whole armie be in great daunger.* 1.170 Therefore it is most necessarie that a captaine be voyde of a troubled minde, neither must he omit any thing which belongeth vnto his of∣fice, as to comfort the fearefull, to chee∣rishe the faithfull, to talke familiarly with his inferiours, to his foes to seeme terrible, but amiable to his friendes, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 conuenticles, and to doo all thinges openly without suspition of double dea∣ling, to giue attention vnto messengers, & to entertaine ambassadors curteously, be their newes neuer so vnpleasaunt.

Tygranes,* 1.171 though ambitiously he would be called king of kinges, yet was he of so troubled a minde, as any strange newes would straight coole his hautynesse. ••s it appeared. For on a tyme when as the Romanes by ambassadors, had sent him theyr mindes plainly, it so troubled him that he coulde not abyde the sight of the messengers, but caused them against all ryght, and lawe of armes, cruelly to be put to death: which made him not onely to be more assaulted of his enemies, but also to be dispised of his owne subiects, and caused him to come into seruitude and subiection. As Tygranes for his vn∣quietnesse and cruelty, is brought for an example to be shunned: so Darius con∣stancie, is worthy to be followed.* 1.172 It is reported of him, that whatsoeuer happe∣ned, he tooke it quietly, and was neuer in minde troubled for the same. And in deede it is no small consolation to a man when any euyl is comming quickly, and with speede to haue intelligence there∣of, espetially to a wyse man, which can with a patient minde, beare all mysfor∣tunes.

¶Of Fearefulnesse. Chap. 23.

* 1.173THe last part of Feare, is Feareful∣nesse, which according to the inter∣pretation of M. Varro, is when the mind being moued, doeth as it were forsake the body, and is sent abroade. Some saie it hath his appellation from that heate whiche commeth into our faces by the sense, and perceiuing of feareful things. Cicero wryteth that this fearfulnesse is a continuall feare. And hereof it com∣meth that he is called fearefull, which standeth in feare of euery small thing, and as we say in our tongue, which fea∣reth his owne shaddowe, which neuer sleepeth securely, neuer resteth quietly, which is inconstant, and seemeth nowe to be cruel, and a threater, nowe gentle, and quiet, nowe bolde, and couragious, by and by, weake and effeminate. The most fearefull of all men (as Herodotus wryteth) are the Garamantines for they are afraide of euery thing,* 1.174 and can abide the sight of none: though they haue wea∣pons,

yet doo they not vse them, for they are afraide for to hurte, and when they are hurt, they wyll not for very coward∣nesse resist.

Two sortes of men are aboue all o∣thers, [ 1] subiect vnto Fearefulnesse:* 1.175 both which are malefactors and wicked per¦sons, as those whome theyr consciences wyll not suffer to be at quiet, but conti∣nually obiect vnto their senses most hor∣rible sights of strange things which wyl at no tyme suffer them to be at reast, but continually assault them, and seeme to take vengance for theyr transgressing: And the other be sick and impotent per∣sons, which by the weakenesse of theyr [ 2] braine, in sleepe are much troubled with visions. Examples of the first we haue many: as Orestes,* 1.176 which because of his matricide, was cruelly tormented with his mothers furies.* 1.177 And Nero lykewise for the lyke offence, could neuer be qui∣et, but the ghost of his mother, whome most wickedly be had murthered, see∣med euery foote for to terrefie him, and with scourge & whip, seuerely to punish him for his so hainous offence.* 1.178 Lyke∣wise Caesar Caligula, another tyraunt, ••o

was terrefied, with straunge sights and ougly shewes, & at no tyme he slept one night quietly and in rest. But as before I sayde, This kinde of Feare, neyther troubleth, or very seldome one vertu∣ously bent, and of good conuersation. By which opinion Theodorus Byzantius be¦ing led,* 1.179 affirmed that no wise men were molested with such apparitions in the night, but onely boyes, women, weake, or wicked folkes, whose mindes being sore occupied by some strange, & stronge imagination suppose to see, that which indede they doo not, but are merely delu∣ded by their owne conceipte. Examples of the latter maye be Vitellius Caesar.* 1.180 Who by excesse in banquetting, fal∣ling into sicknesse, and being a sleepe, there appeared before him, a tall and goodly yong man, to be lyfted in his presence into heauen, by which he con∣iectured, that after his death he shoulde liue in penurie. But true was that vi∣sion of the picture of Fortune of Tuscu∣lane,* 1.181 whiche appeared vnto Galba, lamenting that he had offred and conse∣crated the money (which she had geuen him a lyttle before) vnto Venus, and

therefore with bitter words she threat∣ned to take it from him againe: for with∣in short space afterwarde by the sould••∣ors of Otho he was murthered. Lyke∣wise vnto Tiberius Caesar, there appea∣red in a vision in the night,* 1.182 the image of Apollo, which saide vnto him, that not∣withstanding he had purposed to set vp, and erect his image in a Temple, which he had new builded at Syracusas, yet he woulde not haue it so, and therefore he came to admonishe him, for the aduoy∣ding of a greater inconuenience, not to place the same according vnto his for∣mer determination. It often falleth out that dreames,* 1.183 and apparitions in the night proue true, when they appeare vnto men of confirmed wits, and whose delyght is in contemplation, and studie of celestiall matters. And thereof com∣meth diuinations, and forewarnings of thinges good or euyll. Lykewise Kinges and Princes, those which are in highest aucthoritie, seeme to haue a certaine fa∣miliarity with God, which by dreames and visions in the night, signifieth vnto them wayes how to profite themselues, and theyr subiectes, and to auoyde dan∣gers

imminent, and at hande. As we sée Agamemnon,* 1.184 whome Homer maketh mention of, to declare at large the whole order of theyr warre, which was tolde him in his sleepe.* 1.185 To which Nestor gaue credite, and sayd, That touching things pertayning to the profite of a common weale▪ a Kinges wordes were to be fol∣lowed, if in his sléepe he were told them. Ptolomie the brother of Alexander the great,* 1.186 hauing by a poysoned shaft recei∣ued his deadly wound, and being dead, it is written that Alexander his brother sate vppon his carkasse, and so fell in a sounde sléepe: Then being at rest, there seemed to come before his presence a Dragon, which his mother Olympias had nourished, and brought in his mouth a certaine roote, which was of such ver∣tue, as it woulde restore Ptolomie from death to life againe, and he told likewise the place where it grew. Now when A∣lexander did awake, he told y^e same vnto his friends, & companions, which coun∣sayled him forthwith to sende some to seeke the same roote: which being founde dyd not onely bring life vnto Ptolomie, but also healed many, which were sore

woūded. This happed when Alexander gaue credite vnto y^e visiō, but whē Alex∣ander beléeued not those thinges which were declared vnto him by dreames, great hurt came towards him, as by this example which followeth shall appeare. Being sometime in a sound sleepe, there came before him an image, which willed him not to receiue y^e cup of poison, which y^e yong man whose face he beheld should bring vnto him. Shortly after Cassander came vnto him (which was that yong mā which y^e image gaue warning to auoide) & being before him, Alexander deman∣ded whose sonne he was, who answered that he was the sonne of Antipater: A∣lexāder hearing that, forgot his dreame, as he which had not power so much as to suspecte,* 1.187 that Cassander the sonne of his friend and familiar Antipater, woulde vnder the collor of friendeship séeke his destruction. But the friendship of Alex∣anders was a furtherance to Cassanders treason, for at the length puffed vp with pride & ambition, by poyson he depriued of lyfe that noble Alexander in his flor••∣shing age.* 1.188 Cicero telleth that Hannibal by dreame, was foretold of al his wars.

For on a time being in a sléepe, it séemed vnto him y^t he was called into counsaile with the Gods: and being come, he was wylled by Iupiter, to gather an armie, & inuade Italie, and he should haue a pru∣dent and pollitike captaine, whose coun∣sayle in all his affayres he might folow. The captaine being ioygned with Han∣nibal, commaunded him in any case not to looke backe. But Hannibal with am∣bition inflamed, woulde not obey his counsayle, but styll looked backe. Then appeared a great and sauadge beast, ac∣companied with many serpentes, whe∣thersoeuer it w••nt, ouerthrowing and destroying all things vtterly. Hannibal wondring at the same, asked of God what that monster signified, it was aun∣swered, that it foreshewed the destructi∣on of Italie, and he was warned againe not for to looke backe, but according to his commission, to goe forewarde in his enterprise. Which examples recited, if they be true, then maye some cre∣dite he geuen to dreames. But to my purpose.* 1.189 The cause of Fearefulnesse, we haue sayde, to be eyther an imbeci∣litie or weakenesse of nature, in respecte

of yeares, in childehoode, or doting olde age, or by sicknes, or it ryseth from a cō∣science conuicte & guilty of some offence. Other shewes an apparitions in sleepe, are so farre from terrefiyng and causing Fearfulnesse, that they comfort and de∣lyght the mindes of them to whome they appeare, by signifiyng daūgers im∣minent, or the profites which shalbe rea∣ped. And thus much concerning Feare, and his partes.

¶Of Sorrowe, the last of all Perturbations. Chap. 24.

WE are nowe come to the last of the fowre springes or fountaines of Perturbations, which is Sorrow:* 1.190 whose property is to cause in the mind of man, a byting griefe, and vexation: euen as Feare causeth a ••light and departing of the minde: and as Pleasure rayseth an ouer prodigall merinesse: and Luste an vnbridled appetite. And as we haue the others both defined, and deuided into their partes and properties: so wyll we lykewise declare what Sorrowe is,* 1.191 and

how many braunches spring out of her. It is defined of Cicero to be a freshe con∣ceipt, of a present Euyll. In Latin it is called Aegritudo, which hath another na∣ture then Aegrotat••o. For as wryteth Cicero,* 1.192 the one Aegritudo, is a vexation of minde, and the other Aegrotatio, is a sicknesse of the bodie.* 1.193 This Sorrowe, the Stoikes call griefe, and dolor, & they saye it is an vnmeasurable contraction of the minde, a Perturbation altogether contrary to Pleasure, Lust, or Feare. Out of her springes,* 1.194 Pittie, Enuie, E∣mulation, Backbiting, Freating, Sad∣nesse, Sorrowfulnesse, Bewayling, Troublesomnesse, Lamentation, Care∣fulnesse, Molestation, Afflictation, and Despayre. Of euery one of these lyke∣wise, as of the rest we wyll speake some what, and explicate their natures.

¶Of Pittie, or Compassion. Chap. 25.

* 1.195PItie according to the opiniō of Cicero and the Stoikes, is a Sorrowe concei∣ued by the miseries of another man. The Greeks name y^e same 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉,

and they suppose the same to be a mani∣fest token of great good wyll. Reason willeth vs in the prosperity of our frien∣des to reioyce,* 1.196 and to be grieued at theyr aduersitie, which is the part & duety of a true & faithfull friende. This Pittie the Athenians accompted not only as a most excellent vertue,* 1.197 but also worshipped for some diuine thing, and therfore they consecrated and buylded aulters, and temples vnto her. Ther is another kind of Pittie, which the Gréekes call 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, but it is more wretched and miserable, and hath his deriuation from the soft∣nesse of oyle, and therefore lesse apper∣tayneth to a wyse man. The Latins call the first Misericordiam, from whence Misereri (which ought to be in all men) and the later they saye is Miseratio,* 1.198 and thereof comes Miserari, and none haue that but weake and effeminate persons. There is a thirde kinde of Pittie, which springeth from the recordation of a grefe and trouble passe. For the secure consi∣deration, either of our myseries, which we haue bene afflicted withal our selues, delighteth vs as very wel Maro, Fòrsan et hoc òlim meminisse iuuabit, Perhaps to

remember this hereafter wyll doo good: and Euripides to the lyke sense, Dulce est meminisse malorum, The memory of miseries is a pleasant thing:* 1.199 eyther of the calamites of others passed doo com∣fort vs, as Cicero sayth notably, which of vs doth not the remembraunce of E∣paminundas much delyght, which being about to giue vp the ghost,* 1.200 wylled the poysoned shafte to be plucked from his deadly wound, when it was geuen him to vnderstand that his shielde was soūde f••lse, & his enemies put to flight, & then cheerefully was content to depart out of this world?* 1.201 Much contenciō is amongst the philosophers, whether this affection ought to bee in a wyse man or no, of ey∣ther part great patrons. The Stoikes denie that a man of iudgement shoulde haue this affection, for they suppose that he hath enough to doo, to keepe him selfe from sinne and offending: and therfore they thinke it is not meete that a wyse man shoulde be grieued at anothers dammage, or pittie anothers myserie, when as at his owne he shoulde not bee troubled, but content him selfe & beare al patiently whatsoeuer, as long as he is

without sinne, and endewed with all kinde of vertues. And moreouer they adde and saye, that euery thing is Good or Euyll, or neyther Good nor Euyll.* 1.202 Those thinges which are Good, they say are the vertues, Wisedome, Iustice, Fortitude, and Temperance:* 1.203 Euyll thinges they cal Foolishnesse, Iniustice, Cowardnesse, & Intemperance, which are alwayes hurtfull and vnprofitable. Thinges indifferent,* 1.204 or neyther Good nor Euyll, they saye are thinges whiche being vsed according vnto the rules of Vertue, are good and commendable, but being had to serue as ministers, and en∣creasers of impiety and wickednes, are most hurtfull and damnable, as wealth, ryches, bewty, strength, noblenesse, and such lyke.* 1.205 By which they wyll inferre that a wyse man hauing vertue, though no other thing else he enioye, yet can he not be miserable, and hauing no vertue, though he haue all things, yet is he most wretched. And therefore theyr conclusi∣on is, that a wyse man hauing vertue, lacking other cōmodities of this worlde, ought not to be pittied, neyther ought he to pittie others lacking those, hauing

vertue.* 1.206 The Peripatetions are in ano∣ther minde, and come nigher vnto the trueth. For they iudge the ende of man to be vertue, and that to the getting thereof he shoulde referre all his actions and doinges. But theyr opinion is, that a full and perfecte felicitie consisteth of the thréefolde Good, to wyt, of the goodes of the minde, of the boddie, and of For∣tune,* 1.207 and without those, that is, except he haue the externall, and corporall Goodes, togeather with the giftes of the minde, hee can not be in happie and perfecte estate, that is, a wretche he is, if eyther sicknesse tormentes him, or pouertie punisheth him, or other euylles ouercome him. So that vertue is not sufficient to perfecte felicitie, and yet naughtinesse alone causeth miserie. Their conclusion is, that a man, yea a wyse man, ought not only to haue pittie, but also many other Perturbations, re∣ferring them to the encrease of vertue. To whose opinion the olde Academikes drawe nighe,* 1.208 and they followe Plato the prince and protector of philosophie, whose iudgementes is that not onely a wyse man, but euery man ought to take re∣morse

at the miseries of others,* 1.209 and that that they shoulde take vpon them the de∣fense of those whiche are iniustly trou∣bled, they shoulde see to the poore and fa∣therlesse, succor the needy, and impotent, visit the imprisoned, relieue the necessi∣tie and want of all, finally, doo vnto e∣uerie man as they woulde be done vnto, considering that as the poore, and mise∣rable are, so haue they bene, or may bee. Whose opinion as it is wholsome, so is it to be embraced of al men. For this pit∣tie and compassiō many haue bene com∣mended oftentimes. Arcagatus a notable Chirurgion was highly esteemed among the Romanes as long as he had pittie vppon the patientes,* 1.210 whose cure he had promised: but when he began to be vn∣mercifull, & to haue no remorse of them, he was not onely despised of graue men, but euery boye in derision to his reproch, called him Vulnerarius.* 1.211

Cicero greatly commendes Caesar for his great pittie and mercifulnesse, in these wordes:* 1.212 I ought not C. Caesar (as in the lyke troubles men are wont) to endeuor my selfe by wordes, to moue you vnto pittie, it were a vaine labour,

for of your owne accorde, without any perswasion therevnto, you are wont to succour the afflicted and miserable. Xenocrates was so pittifull as he would ayde and defende euen brute beastes,* 1.213 muche more a man distressed. For on a tyme he sitting in the sunne, there flewe a sparrowe into his bosome, and there as it were besought his aide against the persecution of an Hauke, which he dyd not denie, but there kept her, vntyll she was ryd of all feare, and then opened his bosome, and let her flie, saying: That he would not betray vnto their enemies, a∣ny which flew vnto him for succour. A notable example of mercifulnesse, and pitte is that it should slyp out of remem∣braunce by obliuion. For the onely re∣membraunce thereof is able to prouoke any in whome the sparkes of vertue doo any whit burne, to haue pittie and com∣passion of the afflicted, and to succour and defend the innocent. Philip the king of Macedonia,* 1.214 oftentymes was wont to saye, that a King ought to remember al∣wayes, that he was a mortall man, and subiect to many thousand calamities, but by mercy and pittie, was made lyke the

immortal God. A worthy saying, and de∣serueth to be written in letters of golde, in the chambers of euery man, espeti∣ally of those which any waye are better then other men: whereby they maye thinke that onely Pittie, and merciful∣nesse brings them credite, both with God and man. From this good King Phillip, did not his sonne Alexander degenerate for hauing by conquest ouercom Darius,* 1.215 he had in his subiection all which did be∣long vnto Darius, and so might vse them at his plesure. But his pitty was such as hée abstained from all such as his verie enemye made most accompte of, as hys wife, and other hir handmaids: and dyd not onely not offer any violence vnto her, or any of them, but also on paine of death commaunded, that none in any case after any sort shoulde iniurie them. Which thing when his enemie Darius vnderstoode, so moued him,* 1.216 as he was enforced through consideration of Alex∣anders rare pittie, to breake into these words: O Gods first graunt mee a king∣dome well defensed, afterwardes if it be your plesures, that I shal by death leaue this world, I beseech you that none may

be king of Asia, but this my so friendly foe, and so mercifull conquerour. Howe can this Pittie be too much commended, or who can sufficiently be delighted in the same, sith it makes of deadly foes, faithfull friendes: and of mortall men, immortall Gods. Wonderfull was the care that Titus,* 1.217 sonne of the Emperour Vespasian, had to be accomted mercifull. And it appeared in nothing more, then not onely in pardoning two traytours, which was a token of an excellent good nature, but also in sending worde to one of their mothers, that her sonnes of∣fence was forgeuen, which was a signe of a great care to be accompted merci∣ful.* 1.218 Neither was his endeuour in vaine. For by his great pittie towarde his sub∣iectes, he so wonne theyr hartes, that he was called, The delight of mankinde.

Lykewise, Antonius an Emperour, (which for his iustice, got the name of a good man, and was called aboue all o∣thers, Antonius Pius,* 1.219 for his pittie and mercifulnesse) was reported espetally (as neuer any of the Emperours before him dyd) to haue raigned & ruled with∣out

effusion of blood. And surely the nature of mercy and compassion is such,* 1.220 as it bringeth an espetiall prerogatiue with it. And though many vertues haue caused Princes to bée commended of theyr subiectes, yet none hath at any tyme, eyther brought suche admiration vnto the practisers, or brought Princes more into loue with their subiects, then hath Mercie. Wherefore euery man for his parte, and euery Prince for his prayse, ought aboue all to endeuour to seeme, and to bee mercifull, without which we appere odious to our friends, to our foes monstrous: brutishe before men, and before God deuilishe.

And thus much concerning the firste parte of Sorrowe, called Pittie, in as fewe wordes concerning the necessitie thereof, as myght bée. The next is called Enuie, whose nature and proper∣tie shall nowe be declared.

¶Of Enuie. Chap. 26.

THe second part of Sorrow is Enuie, which is defined of Zeno to be a Sor∣rowe taken at the welfare,* 1.221 or prosperitie of another man, which nothing at all hurtes him which enuieth. This Enuie is compared vnto the Canker.* 1.222 For as the Canker eateth and destroieth iron, so doth enuie eate and consume the hartes of the enuious. The Poets faine Enuie to be one of the furies of Hell, and to be fedde with nothing but adders & snakes: to shewe that enuious persons, doo swal∣lowe downe poyson, and lykewise vomit vp the same againe. For anothers pros∣perity is theyr poyson, and anothers ad∣uersity theyr comfort.

Therfore did Politian write very plea∣santly vnto an enuious man,* 1.223 after this manner: Thou enuiest all thinges to all men, except enuie. And the same lyke∣wise thou doest enuie in another man, which is more enuious then thy selfe. So doth not he enuie y^t in thee, which not∣withstāding thou canst not abide in him.

And this y^e nature of the enuious. What you are I wyll not vtter, least I make you more miserable, then you are nowe. For if I should make you knowne, your very name also you woulde not abide. It is the part of this enuie, lyke as fire, to couet the highest places,* 1.224 and to barke at those whiche are wortheliest prefer∣red. And therefore it is called the compa∣nion of Vertue. It doth not onely seeke the destruction of noble & vertuous men, but also of notable and famous citties. For by this Themistocles, which by sea had vanquished and ouerthrowne the whole nauie of Xerxes,* 1.225 which in nomber was almost infinite, and set his countrey free from thraldome and seruitude, this (I say) Themistocles which had brought so much honor & fame vnto his countrey, by enuie was compelled to forsake the same, & to liue lyke a miserable captiue in banishmēt, for the space of ten yeeres. Though enuie were the cause of his pu∣nishment, yet the Athenians to cloake their ingratitude, sayd, they did the same to suppresse & keepe vnder his stomache, least the remembrance of his glory, and victories should make him so to excell the

rest, as he should haue no companion like vnto him: and the better to bring him in∣to hatred, they caused Timocreō a Rho∣dian Poet,* 1.226 by verses to report him to be a couetous person, wicked, a violater of his faith, and no kéeper of hospitalitie.

* 1.227So lykewise Aristides, which for his vertues, was called Iust, was not with∣out enemies, and enuious persons. For in recompence of al paines and troubles sustained both by lande and sea, to the encreasing of his countreys fame, yet through some enuious folkes he was (I say) notwithstanding all his vertues and benefites bestowed, as a most vnprofi∣table member cut from the body of his contrey. And not only those two lights and examples of vertue, Themistocles, and Aristides were brought into misery, but also the whole state of Athens into perpetuall slauery,* 1.228 whē as none could a∣bide one to be in greater estimatiō then him selfe, or to excell in vertue: the same brought destruction vnto the Romanes, Thebanes,* 1.229 and many other countreyes of great renowme. This Enuie is com∣pared in some respect (of olde & auncient diuines) vnto the Sunne. For as the

nature of the Sunne is to obscure and darken thinges whiche are cleare and manifest: and likewise lighten, and illu∣strate that which is obscure: so enuie endeuoreth to obscure the glory of those which are famous, and in aucthoritie. So that none are subiecte vnto the talke of the enuious, but such as either by welth, riches, renowne, auctority, or vertue are better then the rest, and none are in their bookes, but those which are cowards, da∣stards, wicked & obscure persons.* 1.230 Tullie hath a notable sētence, worthy to be had in continual remembrance of all such as are well disposed, his wordes be these: I haue alwayes bine of this minde, that I haue thought enuie gotten by vertue, to be no obscuring of my name, but an illu∣strating of the same. Amongst all enui∣ous persons (which haue bene for num∣ber infinite) none hath bene so much re∣prehended for the same, as was,* 1.231 Timon of Athens. For he coulde away with none, but onely with Alcebiades:* 1.232 and being asked of Apemantus, why enui∣yng all others, he so fauoured him, aun∣swered, that therefore he dyd loue and accompt of him, because he perceiued the

disposition of Alcebiades to be such as he should in tyme be a scourge to the Athe∣nians, & a cause of many troubles which they should come into. And, as he was, so are all they which are enuious, they can lyke of none but such as are causers, and helpers to bring those which are at rest, and as it were in felicitie, into miseries. But I wyll not spende more wordes a∣bout this Perturbatiō Enuie, for which I haue spoken may sufficiently set forth her nature. I wyll therefore come to a very familiar companion of hers, which is Emulation.

¶Of Emulation. Chap. 27.

* 1.233EMulation, Cicero defineth to bée a griefe of the minde, because one doeth enioye that, which we are desirous to haue. This Emulation hath a great affi∣nity with Enuie (whose nature we haue expressed) and hereof it comes, that he which doth Emulate, labours with tooth and nayle, to get all praise and glorie whiche another hath already vnto him selfe. No better example of this Emula∣tion,* 1.234 than Alexander the great, for looke

what any of his familiars dyd excell in, that did he by al meanes seeke to attaine. And therfore it is sayd, that he did Emu∣late in Lysimachus skilfulnesse of warre, in Seleucus an inuincible corage,* 1.235 a rare ambition in Antigonus, in Attalus a di∣uine maiestie, in Ptolomie a happie suc∣cesse in all enterprises. Syllaes emula∣tion of Marius felicitie, was the cause of ciuile dissention among the Romanes. For when Bocchus king of Mauritania▪ had betrayed Ingurtha vnto Marcius,* 1.236 that so he might purchase vnto him the fauour & good wyl of the Romane people: Sylla being sent ambassador into Mau∣ritania, brought Ingurtha being sent vn∣to Marius to Rome, and there, not as de∣sired, deliuered him vnto Marius, but as his prisoner by pollicie ouercome, kepte him, and both openly euery where, and among his friends priuately, bragged of his good fortune. Which Emulation of his dyd so strike Marius at the harte, as neuer they coulde be reconciled againe into friendship. And therefore Emula∣lation, except it be ruled & gouerned by the raines of reason, is the cause of much dissension, & troubles in a cōmon weale.

It bringeth likewise infamie vnto those which are infected with the same, when they wyll contende and challenge theyr betters. As it dyd vnto Marsyas, which would (him selfe being rude and vnskyl∣full in Musike) contend with Apollo,* 1.237 but being ouercome, in recompence of his fonde emulation, was wel scourged: and as did Thamyras, for being kindled with an ambitious Emulation,* 1.238 would needes trye maisteries with the Muses themsel∣ues, in playing on the Harpe, but being vanquished, and conuict of vnskylfulnes, was for his bolde attempt, bereft of both his eyes, and so was made a blind fidler, and was in derision named Barula. So that this Emulation whiche I haue al∣ready spoken of, is a thing of all men to be detested, for it causeth not onely in∣conueniences and troubles in common weales: but brings al such as are poyso∣ned with the same, into contempt with all men.

But there is an other Emulation, which is good and commendable. And it is a studie, and endeuouring by imi∣tation, to be lyke another man, and yet

not moued thervnto by enuie and simul∣tation, but through the desire of vertue. Euen as Theseus did Emulate the déeds of Hercules,* 1.239 not thereby to darken the glory of Hercules, but the more to illu∣strate his, and to rayse an opinion of ver∣tue vnto him selfe. And this made Ci∣cero,* 1.240 speaking in praise of Marcellus be∣fore Caesar to saye, that he was an imi∣tatour, and dyd emulate the manners of Caesar.

Themistocles in his youth was ge∣geuen to all kinde of wickednesse,* 1.241 euen with gréedinesse, and was more vici∣ous then any, in so muche as his mo∣ther being paste all hope of his amend∣ment, for verie griefe conceiued there∣of, honge her selfe, and yet by emula∣ting the vertues, and victories of Mil∣ciades,* 1.242 became a perfecte image of a vertuous man: and being demaunded of his fellowes, what vppon such a sod∣daine altered his behauiour, aunswe∣red, that the glory and triumphes of Mil∣ciades, had raysed him out of sloth, and that for very shame he could be no longer vitious, but woulde earnestly emulate

the rare vertues of glorious Milciades. This kinde of emulation can not be too muche commended, neither can we too vehemently incite therevnto. For it is the very next way to haue any good qua∣lity practised of men. And therefore it is necessarie not onely to the attayning of all wholsome and good learning, and liberall sciences, but also most meete for all others, espetially for Kings and cap∣taines. For euen as Aristotle dyd emu∣late his master Plato,* 1.243 and the Acade∣mikes in Philosophie: and Cicero De∣mosthenes in Rhetorike: and Virgil Ho∣mer in Poetrie:* 1.244 so should Kings in peace emulate and put before theyr eyes Eua∣goras, & Agasilaus, as notable examples of good gouernment: and captaines in warre imitate the graue wisedome of Q. Fabius Maximus: the wonderfull expedition of Scipio Africanus:* 1.245 the no∣table pollicie of Paulus Aemylius, and the inuincible courage of C. Marius, and so by emulation to haue that altogether in themselues, which were particularly in euerie one of them. So that emula∣tion is naught, and necessarie: naught when it springes of an ambitions enuie:

and necessarie when it ryseth of a vertu∣ous studdie, and therefore to be estéemed of all good wittes, which might excell e∣uen those, which haue bene most excel∣lent.

¶Of Obtrectation. Chap. 28.

AFter Enuie, and Emulation, is next placed Obtrectation, a strange af∣fection,* 1.246 and is defined of Zeno to be a sorrowfulnesse conceiued, because ano∣ther would enioy y^t which we lykewise, our selues haue. Cicero sayth, it is a Ielosie: and in defining thereof, he dis∣senteth not from the Stoikes,* 1.247 but sayth it is a grefe of mind, because others would haue that, which our selues enioye. This is a wonderfull Perturbation, it can abyde that none shoulde haue any good thing but her selfe. Though Cicero call this affection Ielosie, yet the Poets make a difference betweene it and Ielo∣sie. For they take Ielosie onely in mat∣ters of Loue, but Obtrectation more generally, and it hath place in all wic∣ked emulation, enuying, and detraction. Neither truely can it be called Ielosie,

whiche in Gréeke is called 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 whiche is a loue of bewtie, for 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 signifieth to loue, and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 bewtie, so that Ielosie can not properly be called Obtrectation, yet doo the Latins to flie the Greekes worde 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 vse Ob∣trectatio. But nowe to the purpose. No wyse man, or such as make any ac∣coumpt of their good name, and honesty, neyther may, nor can be subiecte to this Perturbation. For as euery one ought to endeuour to the attayning of any good thing, so ought we not to be grieued, if many haue those giftes whiche we are adorned withall: for man is called Ani∣••••al sociale, and should labour to illustrate his contrey by al meanes possible, which he can neuer do, which can not abide that to be in another, which is in him selfe: neither to speake the truth, is he a reaso∣nable creature, which wyll not wishe, y^t euery good thing should be most vsed? for true is that saying of the Peripatetions, Bonum quo communius eo melius: A good thing the more common, the more com∣mendable. And yet we sée in this our age, not a fewe which hauing rare and excellent gifts, can not abide to cōmuni∣cate

them with others, perhaps for feare lest others in their giftes, shoulde excell them: and so put a candle vnder a bushel, from which none can receiue light. And not only in our time, but afore long time agoe, hath this Obtrectation bene embra∣ced.* 1.248 As betweene Hortensius & Cicero a∣bout eloquence: neither of them could a∣bide other whyle they liued, because both being princes of eloquence, both grudged at the same, & grieued them at the harts, for eythers glory. And yet Hortensius being dead, Cicero dyd with many pray∣ses, mightely cōmend him: and when he dyd bewaile his death, he sayd: Hortēsius death now greueth me, because, y^t not as many haue supposed, I haue loste an ad∣uersary, & an obscurer of my praises, but rather a companion & partner of my glo∣rious labor.* 1.249 Betwéene Cicero likewise & Saluste was an open, & manifest obtrec∣tation: for each of them would haue cut y^e others hart vaine, if disdainfull wordes of contempte, woulde haue done the same. Also betwéene Aeschines and De∣mosthenes, was this learned ielosie,* 1.250 as appereth by their orations made against eache other, whereby bitterly they make

inuasions, and if they coulde (so vehe∣ment are theyr wordes) neither shoulde haue had any commendations ascribed vnto them. Againe as Cicero had besids Hortensius Salluste: so had Demosthenes besides Aeschines, Demades, which enui∣ed his rare giftes,* 1.251 and wonderfull elo∣quence, & that was not a cloase or secrete obtrectation, but open and well knowne to all men, by theyr continuall byting eache other with wordes of contempte, where euer they met.

¶Of Freating. Chap. 29.

* 1.252THe fift parte of Sorrowe, is called Freating, whiche according to the minde of Cicero, and Zeno, is a Sorrow of the minde, mightily bringing downe a man, and altering his constitucion. Which agreeth very well to the deriua∣tion of the worde. For in Latin it is cal∣led Angor, which is borrowed from the Greekes,* 1.253 for 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 in Gréeke it is to hange or strangle, and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, a substan∣tiue thereof, is named a choaking or strangling. Hereof it is apparent, that

this Freating doeth not onely vnquiet the minde, but also bring the bodie much out of temper. Naye, we reade that by this Perturbation, many haue lost their lyues, and soddainly geuen vp the ghost. As P. Rutilius,* 1.254 which when he heard that his brother presuming to obtain the dignitie of a consull in Rome, had taken the repulse for verie anguishe of minde, with freating left this worlde, and died. Another which was a sophiste, and pro∣fessed the arte of Logike, being one of great fame,* 1.255 and in that facultie had no péere in those dayes, entring disputation with Stilpo, one of great fame for his profound knowledge, and being driuen by the same Stilpo to a Dum blanke, or Non plus, in an easie question, tooke the same so greeuously at the harte, as pre∣sently that great and vnreasonable frée∣ting, dispoyled him not onely of wyt and reason, but of all sense and fealing. But these fewe wordes maye so suffici∣ently declare this affection Freatinge, to bée altogeather vnméete for a reaso∣nable creature.

¶Of Sadnesse. Chap. 30.

ANother parte of Sorrowe, is called Sadnesse:* 1.256 whose nature according to the opinions of those whiche haue bene most dilligent in the searching the verie properties of euery Perturbation shalbe declared. Cicero, whome in this matter espetially I doo follow, defineth Sadnes to be a Sorrow continuing, and déepely rooted in the minde. And it hath place most chiefly in those whose mindes are occupied about earthly affaires. Hereof according to some mēs verdite, Tristitia is explicated to be a stāding of the earth,* 1.257 & thereof is thought to be Terraestitia, euē as Solstitium hath his beginning a Solis s••atione, from the standing or quiet re∣sting of the Sunne. Melancholike per∣sons are most subiect to this Perturba∣tion: and therefore Aristotle sayth, that they are continually vexed, both in mind and boddie, they are very seldome well at ease, but stande in neede of the Phisi∣tion, because they disgest theyr meate very ill: and he sayeth moreouer, that

they are strong in imaginations, and for sharpnesse of wit they excell. The Poets faine Prometheus,* 1.258 to be tyed on the top of the mountaine Caucasus, & an Egle to be gnawing of his harte. Wherby they signifie no other thing, but the great sadnesse of Prometheus, gotten by the contemplating the Starres and Pla∣nets. For Prometheus was a learned man, and verie skilfull in Astronomie, and therefore because of his great dilli∣gence bestowed in searching the causes of the motions of the heauens, and the nature of thinges, he is thought with cares, studie, and sadnesse, to be con∣sumed.* 1.259 Which when Cicero dyd vnder∣stande, in smiling sort he sayde: He could verie well be content to be of a dull and blockishe capacitie, so he might be frée from that kinde of nature.* 1.260 And the Py∣thagorians were of his opinion, for theyr poesie was, that The hart shoulde not be eaten: Theyr meaning was, that cares, and sadnesse, shoulde not consume the harte by vnquieting the minde: We see those which be geuen to sadnes, to be proane to al wickednesse, as enuie, deceipt, couetousnesse, lecherie, and such

lyke vices: and moreouer, they are de∣lyghted in no good exercise, for the most parte, but desire to be idle, and doo no∣thing. Which the Astronomers conside∣ring, write, that they are vnder the go∣uerment of Saturne, an hurtful, slothfull planet,* 1.261 & most enemie to mankinde of al other planets. C. Caesar, declared him selfe to hate & detest those which by na∣ture were pale,* 1.262 and sad. And therfore on a tyme, as he was merely iesting, with many of his famyliars, but espetially with one of a pleasant countenance, and of constitution of boddie verie grosse, a∣nother perceiuing his great familiarity, came vnto him, and wylled him to talke not so friendly, but to take héede of him, for without doubt he sayd, if he vsed his company and familiarity, no good would come thereof. Then Caesar smyling, sayde, that he, feared not those of merie countenance, but those lowring and sad persons, meaning Brutus, and Cassius, whiche in deede afterwardes,* 1.263 were not onely the procurers, but the committers of his cruell murthering. Myson also, whome some accoumpt among the seuen wyse men of Gréece,* 1.264 was geuen to such

vnreasonable sadnesse, that he was re∣ported to persecute all mankinde with hatred, and men gathered the same, be∣cause he was in no company merie, nei∣ther tooke he delyght in any. And but once in al his lyfe, he was séene to laugh, and that was at such a tyme, when as (a great sort being in company) all others were sad: and being demaunded, why at that tyme he brake into laughter, none else being merie? aunswered, because I haue no companion. By which aunswer of Myson, it is gathered, that sad per∣sons care for no company, but take most delyght when they are alone. But nowe to come to the cause hereof:* 1.265 no maruayle though déepe and profounde meditation bring the same, and cause men to be de∣sirous to be alone. For nature hath ge∣uen to euerie man two places, or recep∣tacles of all his cogitations, one is the braine, the other the harte, both being furnished with cogitations, néedes must a man be vnquiet, and proane to sadnes, for to the braine haue recourse all the senses of mans boddie, which as they were messengers, bring newes of al such exteriour thinges, which are obiect vnto

them: and therefore running continual∣ly therevnto, suffereth the braine neuer quietly to rest, but alwayes with imagi∣nations trouble it. But the hart by rea∣son that it is more cloase and secréete, is lesse assaulted with the senses: And ther∣fore the mind of man, when it hath some great, and graue cogitation, flieth vnto the hart, as to a more quiet place, where he maye the better iudge trueth from falsehoode, and according to reason geue sentence of euerie thing. And so we (by the example of the minde) when we are in any cogitation of weight, séeke the moste secréete place frée from all noyse, that so we may neither sée those thinges which wyl trouble our minds, nor heare that which may driue vs from the same into some other matter. And in this re∣spect, sadnesse may be well commended, and taken for a great grauity,* 1.266 which an∣cient writers doo much praise: and hereof it comes that Lucilius and Varro, haue called Philosophers graue, sad, and se∣uere, epithetons geuen in good parte to their comendations. And Terence sayth: There is a sad seueritie in his counte∣nance, & faithfulnesse in words, wherby

it appeareth that sadnesse somtime is ta∣ken for a good qualitie. And as there is an vngratious, so is there a vertuous, which is a token of no lyght person, but of one whose behauiour is such, as his desire is to be accompted graue, as were Philosophers, and are all wyse and pru∣dent men. Therefore ought euery man so prepare him selfe, that not so much as a shewe of that harde, bitter, and sowre sadnesse, which hath alwayes bene com∣mended of none, but contemned of all wyse men, shoulde appeare in him: but this graue and seuere sadnesse, ought not onely to be wished for, but laboured for, that so, he maye be nombred among the graue, and wyser sort of men.

¶Of Pensiuenesse. Chap. 31.

NOt vnlyke to Sadnesse, is Pensiue∣nesse,* 1.267 & therefore is it next adioyned vnto the same, and is defined of Cicero to be a doleful, or wéeping sorrowfulnesse, It is named in Latin Moeror: & that is, deriued from the Latin verbe Maresco, which signifieth to drye, or wyther.

Because that this Pensiuenesse withe∣reth the bodie of man. But if any be not content with that deriuation, they maye thinke the same to be fetcht eyther from the Greeke verbe 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉,* 1.268 which is by interpretation, to receyue a lot, and herof it commeth that aduersity is ascri∣bed to fortune: or else from 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, which is is by chaunce to get a thing. But whiche of these opinions are true, greatly it skylleth not, and yet there bée which thinke this worde to be deriued of eyther of them. Nowe to my purpose. This wofull Sorrow is a Perturbation which ought not to be in a discréete and wise man. For it is a manifest signe and token of an effeminate & womālike per∣son. And not without good cause it is so iudged: for it weakeneth the string or vaines of vertue, and maketh them in al theyr doing negligent, & of no strength or power to accomplishe any good enter∣prise:* 1.269 which consideration made the La∣cedemonians by a certaine superstition at theyr alters, to whip and scorge theyr children, that so they might in tyme be without Pensiunesse, and be hardned to sustaine al miseries, with a bolde corage.

And theyr custome was so narrowly ob∣serued, that almost none were founde, no not among the weake sorte, which eyther would groane, or geue any signe of griefe, when they were in paine: and if any dyd in his calamities shedde but one teare, he was not onely derided of his fellowes, but also brought againe to the altar, there to be greeuously tor∣mented for his not obseruing theyr cu∣stome. Hereof it procéeded that the Lace∣demonians of all people, in peace and warre, proued the most valiaunt. The Spartanes also were maruelously commended,* 1.270 because they were free frō this pensiue sorrowfulnesse. And though they dyd alwayes declare their patience, yet at no time, or place more, thē in their miserable seruitude vnder king Anti∣gonus: for when he had ransacked theyr cittie, bereft them of theyr treasure, and left nothing which good was, yet amōgst them all, there was none founde, no not so much as a woman, which was pensiue at the matter, but euery one reioysed, the olde men that their lustie inuentus: the fathers that theyr children: the women that theyr husbandes, and euery one tri∣umphed

that, so many had gotten so gl••∣rious deathes, for the defence of they•• countrey. Therefore who doth not com∣mend these men for their noble stoma∣ches which can without griefe beare pa∣tiently so great losses? So that the lac∣king of this affection beings commenda∣tion, but the subiection to it, brings defa∣mation.* 1.271 As it dyd vnto Cicero (a man of great renowme, and one which by elo∣quence, brought much honour vnto his countrey) for being called by Clodius in∣to iudgement (because of his owne auc∣thoritie, without permission of the Se∣nate,* 1.272 he had commaunded Lentulus, and Cethegus to be punished) he was of such an abated corage, as hauing changed his garment, weeping, and miserablie pen∣siue, as he was going, fell at the feete of euery one which he met▪ A strange thing that he which by eloquence, coulde turne the hardest harte into pittie, shoulde by his pensiuenesse, be a laughing stocke vnto all men. But as Cicero was, such was Demosthenes in eloquence,* 1.273 & per∣suading inferiour to none (if by studie, not Ex tempore, he shoulde haue spoken)

for when he shoulde haue defended him selfe before the Athenians, he with pen∣siuenesse so forsooke him selfe, as rather he had to go into perpetuall banishment, then by talke openly to beséeche fauour, or forgeuenesse at the handes of the A∣thenians. So that this childishe affecti∣on, Pensiuenesse, hath as much darkned theyr fame, as theyr eloquence purcha∣sed theyr commendation. Wherefore by theyr examples, we with great heede should beware least we be spotted with the same faulte, and so bring our selues into contempte and derision, when as other qualities, cause vs to be wondered at.

¶Of Mourning. Chap. 32.

MOurning Cicero calleth a Sorrowe, conceiued of the death of him,* 1.274 which was déere vnto vs, By thē Lawes of Twelue tables at Rome, all crying, and funerall wéeping, were sharply forbid∣den.

And that not without good cōsideration, for reason hath geuē vs this knowledge, that theyr deaths whose life, hath bene good, and without any notorious crime, shoulde alwayes be a comfort vnto vs, by a continuall remembrance, so farre shoulde we be from mourning for them. Againe, patiently shoulde that be borne, which no strength can ouercome,* 1.275 nor counsayle auoide. And therefore what auaileth mourning, when nothing can alter? Rather shoulde this perswasion comfort vs, to thinke no strange thing is happened, but that which all mankinde sometime shal haue. But permit mour∣ning to be a tollerable thing, & to be suf∣fered: yet shall we get nothing but this therby, that we afterward shall seeme in behauiour light, and in habite vnséeme∣ly. And who is he but doeth deride such an vnpleasant person? who is he, but doth contemne a man, which in ad∣uersitie wyll mourne, and shed teares? we therefore (naming him a wyse man, whiche can mortefie immoderate affec∣tions) wyll haue a man (because he shall not appeare, altogether forgetfull of his friendes) to shewe some token of

Sorrowe, but that shalbe after a graue sort, such as shall become a man, not bru∣tishly to howle, or crye out, but after a modest sort shall make the same to ap∣peare. And that the better it maye be done, I wyll bring forth some, who are worthy to be imitated herein: who doth not greatly commend Anaxagoras, for his so patient bearing the departure of his sonne?* 1.276 for when newes was brought him, that his sonne was dead, he was so farre from shedding teares, that lyke a wyse man he aunswered, Is that such a strange thing thou tellest mee? I knewe I had begotten a mortall man. Or what man is hee which hearing of y^e Leena,* 1.277 is not ashamed of himself (if he bee a mour∣ner) or what woman should not follow her steps (if she be a mother) which hea∣ring y^t her sōne in battayle died valiant∣ly, neuer cried, or bewayled y^e same with outcryes, (as the vse is now a dayes, al∣most among al womē) but lifting vp her hands to the heauens, thanked God har∣tely, y^t she had brought such a sonne into the world, which in respect of vertue, for the defence of his countrey gaue his lyfe. And so should euery good woman for her

childe, and euerie welwyller for his friende, geue God moste hartie thanks, if he dye vertuously. As dyd also Xe∣nophon, which when according to the custome of the Athenians,* 1.278 with a crown of his head, goinge to make sacrifice, he harde that his sonne Gryllus in a bat∣tayle at Mantinoa had bene slaine,* 1.279 at the soddaine tydinges, was somewhat astonied, but hauinge farther intelli∣gence that hée dyed valliantly, and with commendation of all, went on with his businesse, and fyrst thanked God, that it pleased him to take his sonne out of this worlde, in so notable a sorte.

I recite these examples to the shame (almost) of all Christians, which when they see or heare of the vertuous death of theyr children, wyll notwithstanding, not thanke God therefore, but as if they had bene the veryest thée••es that might bée, pittiously lament and morne for theyr leauing this worlde.

Well, being in so good a matter, I wyll bring one example more, that so we maye eyther be ashamed of our sel∣ues, or the better styrred to beare pati∣ently

the death of those whiche wée e∣stéeme, and make accoumpte of.

To Horatius Puluillus, a man of great aucthoritie, and for his vertue,* 1.280 chie∣fest Prieste in Rome, dedicatinge a Temple vnto Iupiter, worde was brought that his Sonne had lefte this worlde. But he being for his wisedome as reuerende, as for his dignitie honorable, because he woulde not séeme to prefer a priuate thing, be∣fore a publike: or a prophane mat∣ter, before his diuine exercise, gaue no signe of any griefe, but persisted in his godly attempt. This example of Horatius, maye strike a perpetuall shame into the faces of them, which, though they bee in counsayle, concer∣ning waightie matters, or in doing neuer so godlie exercise, if newes bee brought them that theyr sonne, or theyr friende bée dead, they wyll both for∣sake theyr waightye businesse, and cutte of theyr godlye prayers, and by teares make all to vnderstande, that theyr sonne, or theyr friende

is departed: wherby they séeme to make more accoumpt of one, then of many: of a priuate person, then of y^e publyke state, of a sonne, before theyr saluation▪ For this matter, these shall suffice, and therefore this Perturbation, Mourning, with the sentence of Plinie,* 1.281 shall be concluded, which very wisely telleth, which death should be mourned for, in these wordes: In mine opinion (sayeth he) theyr death comes not vntymely, which endeuour to get them by vertue immortalitie. For those which are geuen to the belly: and to all kinde of pleasures, as though they should enioy this worlde but euen a day, they cut of the causes of lyfe: but those which thinke vpon theyr posteritie, and are studious to leaue some notable thing in the worlde, thereby to haue their me∣mory continue, those he sayeth, can not die vntimely, or out of season, because theyr fame brings them into continuall remembraunce. And we should thinke that those dye not vntymely, which dye vertuously, and mourne for them, but such as dye wickedly, and lament theyr death.

¶Of Troublesomnesse. Chap. 33.

THis part of Sorrowe,* 1.282 Troublesom∣nesse (if so I may enterprete the La∣tin word Aerumnam, for want, of a more proper to expresse the same) is called of Cicero, a laboursome Sorrowe.* 1.283 Cicero sayth, Our elders haue named our la∣bours not to be auoided, by a most sad worde Aerumna. And therefore they haue named those labours and paines, which necessarily must be taken, by the the name of Troublesomnesse, thereby to geue to vnderstande, that nothing ought be lefte vndone, be it neuer so troublesome, of any man, if it appertain to the profite, and commoditie of many. For no dolor nor daunger ought we to shun and auoide, if thereby we may doo good. And therefore Scipio reading the bookes of Xenophon,* 1.284 dyd greatly com∣mende that place of Xenophon, where he sayde, that no paines or labors should seeme grieuous at any tyme to a captain or soldior, for the glory whiche theyr prowes shoulde purchase, might take a∣way all remembrance of labour passed.

Therefore it is the parte of euery man according to his calling, to refuse no la∣bor, neyther to commit that by sloth∣fulnesse he be accoumpted too nice, and him that wyl take no paines to the bene∣fiting of others. And yet is it meete, that in our businesse we doo the same discrete∣lye, least otherwise we appeare eyther foolishe or fanaticall. Therefore this Perturbation is good, and to be embra∣ced, as that which putteth vs in minde, not to be carelesse in our callinges, but careful to discharge our selues, and pain∣full in profiting others, considering that in so dooing we doo not onely oftentimes enriche our selues in this world, but al∣so get a name euerlasting.

¶Of Lamentation. Chap. 34.

AMong Perturbations, as there bée some good,* 1.285 and to be desired: so are there others to be shunned & despised: a¦mong which is nombred this Lamenta∣tiō, which we are nowe about to declare. For it is an affectiō altogether vnmeete for a wyse man: whose definicion doeth shewe no lesse: for Cicero describeth it to

be a sorrowfulnesse, shewed by a certaine howling and crying out, for it is so farre from a wyse man, that it is not to be ly∣ked, no, not in lytle children. And although the Poets in their workes doo oftentimes bring notable & valiant men miserably crying & lamenting, by which they seeme but smally to differ frō fooles and mad men (as Homer brings out Bel∣lerophon bayling lyke a shéepe without company,* 1.286 wandering in the Alian fieldes) yet ought not theyr examples to be followed, as those which wyse men laugh at, and haue in contempt.

¶Of Carefulnesse. Chap. 35.

CArefulnesse according to Ciceroes o∣pinion,* 1.287 is a Sorrowfulnesse of the minde, procéeding from some great and déepe cogitation fixed at the hart. With this affection are troubled, as all those which are of noble capacity: so espetially whiche haue addicted them selues to the studie of good letters, if so be they loase & slacke the brydle of reason ouermuch. The Aegiptians saye,* 1.288 that their coun∣trey can very well agrée to the natures

of men, for vnto those whiche vse the same well, it is very healthfull, but vnto others,* 1.289 as hurtfull. The Athenians also reported, that they as long as they gaue them selues to good thinges, were the most excellent of al, but following vice & wickednes, they proued in the end to be the very patrones of all vngratiousnes. So that hereof we may inferre, that this great studie & carefulnesse in a naughtie disposed persō, causeth great hurt, aswel to him selfe by sicknesse, as to others by wickednes: but in a good & vertuous per∣son, it cōuerteth al his endeuors to good exercises, and so it both altreth aswel the name as the nature, & is called diligence, which ought to be in all men. For it is called the mistresse of doctrine,* 1.290 without which nothing can eyther be spoken or done in this life with cōmendation, and praise of men, and without which it is altogeather impossible to proue learned, much lesse excellent in any science.

¶Of Molestation and Afflictation. Chap. 36.

* 1.291MOlestation is a griefe of minde, not ceassing, but continuing. For when

carefulnesse by continuall cogitations hath troubled the minde, then commeth it at length, and is turned into this mo∣lestation, which if it perseuere and con∣tinue, it afflicteth the boddy very much, and so afterwardes is conuerted into a∣nother Perturbation, which is named Afflictation, & is defined of Cicero to be a griefe of minde,* 1.292 with the vexation of the boddie. Of the same haue many dyed, as we reade of Lepidus, which by a long griefe conceiued of the misbehauiour of of his wife, shortened his dayes.* 1.293

¶Of Desperation. Chap. 37.

THe last of all Perturbations, is De∣spaire,* 1.294 which of all other is most per∣nicious: whose definicion declareth no lesse. For it is a Sorrowfulnes without all hope of better fortune. And therefore it entreth so farre into the harte of man, that oftentymes it compelleth him to vi∣olate his nobility, and to cast violent hāds vpon him selfe: then which nothing can be more hurtfull and dangerous for the soule. The very Heathen Philosophers and Poets, doo greeatly enueigh against

this dispayre, and therfore to make it the more to be shūned, they faine Philostra∣tes being destitute of all his friendes,* 1.295 by reason of the contagiousnesse of a woūd, to leade a poore, and most miserable life, & like a begger, to wander from place to place: thereby to signifie, that though he were in such misery, as no man could be in more, yet had he rather so to consume his dayes, then desperatlie to kyll, and cast him selfe away. A notable example. Yet notwithstanding, that wyse men haue enueighed against it, & reason doth condemne desperate persons, yet haue the Romanes, & many other nations al∣lowed,* 1.296 and thought well of the same, else woulde not so many, so desperately haue bereft them selues of life: as did Brutus & Cassius after the death of Caesar:* 1.297 as dyd Antonie, when he heard that Cleopatra had killed her selfe: for hearing the same, he brake into these words: Die Antonie, what lookest thou for? Fortune hath ta∣ken her from thée, by whome thou desy∣redst to prolong thy dayes, and therefore it shal neuer be sayd, that such a captaine as I haue bene accompted, wyll be stai∣ned

of a woman in stoutnesse of mindes and therewithall goared him selfe vpon a sworde, and so most desperatly forsooke this worlde.* 1.298 Lykewise Pachetes an Athenian Orator, because he coulde not moue his auditors mindes: and so dyd Empedocles,* 1.299 because he coulde not learne the cause of the burning of Aetna: and profound Aristotle,* 1.300 because he could not geue a reason of the flowing of Ni∣lus:* 1.301 and wise Cato hauing read the books of Plato, touching the immortalitie of the soule▪* 1.302 and godly Ambrociotes in the lyke manner, for the same cause dyd caste him selfe headlong from an highe hyll: and so exceeding in brutishnesse, the very beastes, haue desperately, and deuilishly depriued them selues of that, whiche they shoulde keepe as a moste precious iewell, vntyll it pleased God to call for the same.

And therefore as Lactantius hath writ∣ten, if he bee a wicked homicide,* 1.303 which is the slaier of a man, then is he the same which kylleth him selfe, because he kyl∣leth a man. Nay, a most horrible & dam∣nable offence is it to be iudged, whose

reuengement belongeth only vnto God: for as we came into this worlde, not of our owne accorde, but by the leaue and permission of God, so ought we to leaue this world, not at our plesure, but when it shall please God to call vs away. And therefore (as Plato sayd very well) as in this worlde, he which without licence of one in aucthoritie wyll breake a prison, though he be not guiltie, yet for his bold∣nesse procureth his owne death, and that presently: so in the worlde to come, shall be perpetually be punished, which con∣trary to the wyll and tyme prescribed of God, wyll part the soule from the boddy, and set it at libertie. Thus briefly haue I declared both howe many, and what are the Pertur∣bations.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Stoikes.
• * 1.2

  Peripateti∣ons.
• * 1.3

  Lactantius de vero cul∣tu. Cap. 15
• * 1.4

  Perturbati∣on.
• * 1.5

  Pleasure.
• * 1.6

  Cicero de finibus, lib. 2 Au. Gelius.
• * 1.7

  Voluntas. Voluptas. Volupe. Volupia.
• * 1.8

  Venus.
• * 1.9

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉,
• * 1.10

  Ilvvyll.
• * 1.11

  Diogenes. Heraclitus. Timon A∣theniensis.
• * 1.12

  Phocion.
• * 1.13

  Delectation
• * 1.14

  Nightingal.
• * 1.15

  Stesechorus
• * 1.16

  Oblectati∣on.
• * 1.17

  Scythians. Sardanapa∣lus.
• * 1.18

  Asian King••
• * 1.19

  Insultation.
• * 1.20

  Achilles.
• * 1.21

  ••ylla.
• * 1.22

  Iulius Cae∣sar.
• * 1.23

  Hanniball.
• * 1.24

  Alexander.
• * 1.25

  Boasting.
• * 1.26

  ••iles glori∣osus.
• * 1.27

  Fame.
• * 1.28

  Oratours▪ Poets.
• * 1.29

  Zeuxis. Atlantaes picture.
• * 1.30

  Pompeius.
• * 1.31

  Prodigality.
• * 1.32

  Aristopha∣nes.
• * 1.33

  Venus,
• * 1.34

  Iupiter.
• * 1.35

  Cestos. Incests.
• * 1.36

  Luxurious∣nesse.
• * 1.37

  Elpinor.
• * 1.38

  Fabius ••ur∣ges. Apicious.
• * 1.39

  Ambition.
• * 1.40

  C. Marius. Sylla.
• * 1.41

  Caesar, Pompey.
• * 1.42

  Themisto∣cles. Aristides.
• * 1.43

  Theophra∣stus.
• * 1.44

  Emulati∣on.
• * 1.45

  Lust vvhat.
• * 1.46

  The towre of mischefe▪
• * 1.47

  Needinesse, vvhat.
• * 1.48

  Cato senior
• * 1.49

  Couetous∣nesse.
• * 1.50

  M. Cato.
• * 1.51

  A rich man truly ••er∣med.
• * 1.52

  Couetous∣nesse lyke the 〈…〉〈…〉 and lyke that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Dypsus.
• * 1.53

  The effects of Pouerty & Plenty.
• * 1.54

  Anger vvhat
• * 1.55

  Wrath, what.
• * 1.56

  Lact. lib. de vero cultu.
• * 1.57

  Clinias. Theodosius
• * 1.58

  Ciceros ad Q. Fratrem.
• * 1.59

  Palenes, what.
• * 1.60

  Hatred, what.
• * 1.61

  Arist. lib. 2•• cap. 8. Rhetorx ad Theodecten. The diffe∣rence be∣tweene hatred and anger.
• * 1.62

  Discorde, what.
• * 1.63

  Cice. pro le∣ge Agratia contra Rul∣lū ad popu∣lum.
• * 1.64

  Alecto▪
• * 1.65

  An angrie man, a mad man.
• * 1.66

  Alexander Magnus. Clito.
• * 1.67

  Dionysius. Iracundiae comes poe∣ni••••ntia.
• * 1.68

  Periander.
• * 1.69

  Aeschylus & sophocles.
• * 1.70

  Calchas.
• * 1.71

  Mopsus.
• * 1.72

  Niceratus.
• * 1.73

  Antimachus
• * 1.74

  Loue,
• * 1.75

  Furors.
• * 1.76

  Propheti∣call, ••y••tical. Proetical, Amatori∣all,
• * 1.77

  Theseus, & Ariadnes. Iason, and Medea.
• * 1.78

  Stoikes.
• * 1.79

  Cicero.
• * 1.80

  The cause of Loue.
• * 1.81

  How Loue commeth to frende∣ship.
• * 1.82

  The effects of Loue.
• * 1.83

  Demetrius. Antigonus.
• * 1.84

  Selencus.
• * 1.85

  Stesilia, Themisto∣cles, Aristi∣des.
• * 1.86

  Seruilia, Caesar and Cato.
• * 1.87

  Semiramis.
• * 1.88

  L. Vitellius.
• * 1.89

  Kinges of Assiria.
• * 1.90

  Hannibal.
• * 1.91

  Alexander.
• * 1.92

  Thais. Persepolis▪
• * 1.93

  Semiramis.
• * 1.94

  Clodius.
• * 1.95

  Pasiphae.
• * 1.96

  Anacreon.
• * 1.97

  Pindarus.
• * 1.98

  Xenophon, Clinias.
• * 1.99

  Semiramis. Pesiphae. Cyparissus. Aristoma∣chus. Pub. Pilatus.
• * 1.100

  Image of Helene. Image of Atalanta. Image, Bonae For∣tunae.
• * 1.101

  Troy. Scylla.
• * 1.102

  Tarentines. ••. Pedanius ••••cundus.
• * 1.103

  Semiramis.
• * 1.104

  Catilme. Orestilla.
• * 1.105

  Laodice. Ariartes.
• * 1.106

  Remedies of Loue.
• * 1.107

  Leucates mons.
• * 1.108

  Cephalus. Degonetes.
• * 1.109

  Sappho.
• * 1.110

  Phaon.
• * 1.111

  Crates.
• * 1.112

  Cicero lib. 4 Tusc. quest.
• * 1.113

  Spurina.
• * 1.114

  Longing vvhat.
• * 1.115

  Penelope.
• * 1.116

  Sappho.
• * 1.117

  Homer.
• * 1.118

  Smyrna, Rhodes, Colophon, Salamis, Ius, Argos, Athens.
• * 1.119

  Nichoma∣chus. Timoma∣chus. Apelles.
• * 1.120

  Feare what.
• * 1.121

  Metus qua∣si motus a∣nimi.
• * 1.122

  Gladnes. Wyll. Heede.
• * 1.123

  Fortitude what. Hannibal.
• * 1.124

  Nicias.
• * 1.125

  Tib. Caesar.
• * 1.126

  Alexander.
• * 1.127

  Parmenio.
• * 1.128

  Dolus non decet for∣tem.
• * 1.129

  ••lothfulnes vvhat. Demosthe∣nes.
• * 1.130

  Slothful∣nesse vnsit∣ting for a Prince.
• * 1.131

  Pallas.
• * 1.132

  Demetrius.
• * 1.133

  The caus•• of slothful∣nesse, pro∣speritie. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉
• * 1.134

  Nabatheis.
• * 1.135

  Pheacons.
• * 1.136

  Lotophagie
• * 1.137

  Lotus.
• * 1.138

  Effectes of idlenesse.
• * 1.139

  The dili∣gence of Demosthe∣nes.
• * 1.140

  Bashfulnes vvhat.
• * 1.141

  Cato senior.
• * 1.142

  Diogenes.
• * 1.143

  Shame∣fastnesse.
• * 1.144

  Pudet.
• * 1.145

  Pige
• * 1.146

  Terror vvhat.
• * 1.147

  Who vali∣aunt in dede.
• * 1.148

  Solon.
• * 1.149

  Q Mutius ••ceuola.
• * 1.150

  Marius.
• * 1.151

  Dreade what.
• * 1.152

  Forecast.
• * 1.153

  Theseus.
• * 1.154

  Panetius de officijs.
• * 1.155

  The know¦ledge of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ••hy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to God, not geuen to man.

  ••ope what.
• * 1.156

  Simonides.
• * 1.157

  Alexander Magnus.
• * 1.158

  Perdiccas.
• * 1.159

  Trembling vvhat.
• * 1.160

  Timanthes▪ Iphigenia▪
• * 1.161

  Calchas.
• * 1.162

  Vlysses.
• * 1.163

  Menelaus.
• * 1.164

  Q Curtius.
• * 1.165

  Caecilius.
• * 1.166

  M. Crassus.
• * 1.167

  Brutus.
• * 1.168

  Conturba∣tion vvhat▪
• * 1.169

  Ephicrates. A•• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lyke a ly∣uing bodie.
• * 1.170

  The office of a Cap∣••••••ne.
• * 1.171

  Rex 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Tygranes.
• * 1.172

  Dari••••
• * 1.173

  Fearefulnes
• * 1.174

  Garamanti∣nes.
• * 1.175

  Of feareful men, two sortes.
• * 1.176

  Orestes.
• * 1.177

  Nero.
• * 1.178

  Magna vis conscientiae. Caesar Cali∣gula.
• * 1.179

  Thedorus Byzantius.
• * 1.180

  Vitellius.
• * 1.181

  Visions, Galba.
• * 1.182

  Tib. Caesar.
• * 1.183

  Dreames▪ when true.
• * 1.184

  Agamem∣non.
• * 1.185

  Nestor.
• * 1.186

  Ptolomie.
• * 1.187

  Cassander.
• * 1.188

  Cic lib. 2. de Diuinatione ad finem. Hannibal.
• * 1.189

  The cause of feareful∣nesse.
• * 1.190

  Properties of the af∣f••ction.
• * 1.191

  Sorrowe what.
• * 1.192

  Aegritudo.
• * 1.193

  Aegrotatio.
• * 1.194

  Partes of Sorrowe.
• * 1.195

  Pittie what.
• * 1.196

  The duety of a friend.
• * 1.197

  Pitie wor∣shipped for a Goddesse of the Athenians.
• * 1.198

  Misericordi∣a, misereri. Miseratio, miserari.
• * 1.199

  Cicero ad Lucilium.
• * 1.200

  Epaminun∣das.
• * 1.201

  Whether pittie mate rest in a wise man or no.
• * 1.202

  Good thinges.
• * 1.203

  Euill thinges.
• * 1.204

  Thinges indiffe∣rent.
• * 1.205

  The opini∣on of the Stoikes.
• * 1.206

  The opi∣nion of the peripate∣cions.
• * 1.207

  Who hap∣pie.
• * 1.208

  The Acade¦mikes.
• * 1.209

  The part of euery man to be pittifull.
• * 1.210

  Arcagatus.
• * 1.211

  Vulnera∣rius.
• * 1.212

  Cicero in Oratione pro rege Deiota••o.
• * 1.213

  Xenocrates.
• * 1.214

  Philippus ••acedonia.
• * 1.215

  Alexander magnus
• * 1.216

  The frute of pittie.
• * 1.217

  Titus, Ves∣pasianus.
• * 1.218

  Deliciae hu∣man•• gene∣ris, Titus imperator.
• * 1.219

  Antonius Pius.
• * 1.220

  Mercie most requi∣site in a Prince.
• * 1.221

  Enuie vvhat.
• * 1.222

  Cankered Enuie.
• * 1.223

  Policianus lib 1. Epistola 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.224

  Inuidia co∣mes virtu∣tis.
• * 1.225

  Themisto∣cles.
• * 1.226

  Timocreon
• * 1.227

  Aristides Iustus.
• * 1.228

  Athens.
• * 1.229

  Rome. Thebes.
• * 1.230

  Cic. oratio∣ne prima in Catilinam,
• * 1.231

  Timon of Athens.
• * 1.232

  Alcebiades▪
• * 1.233

  Emmulati∣on vvhat.
• * 1.234

  Alexander Magnus.
• * 1.235

  Lysimachus seleucus. Antiagonus Attalus. Ptolomie▪ Sylla and Marius.
• * 1.236

  Bocchus. Ingurtha.
• * 1.237

  Marsyas.
• * 1.238

  Thamyras Batula.
• * 1.239

  Theseus.
• * 1.240

  Cic. in orat. pro. M. Mar∣cello.
• * 1.241

  Themisto∣cles.
• * 1.242

  Milciades.
• * 1.243

  Aristotle, Plato.
• * 1.244

  Cicero, De∣mosthenes. Virgil, Ho∣mer. Euagoras. Agesilaus.
• * 1.245

  Q. Fabius Maximus. ••cipio, Afri∣canus. Paulus, Ae∣mylius.
• * 1.246

  Obtrecta∣tion vvhat.
• * 1.247

  Ielosie.
• * 1.248

  Hortensius. Cicero.
• * 1.249

  Saluste.
• * 1.250

  Aschines. Demosthe∣nes.
• * 1.251

  Demades.
• * 1.252

  Freating.
• * 1.253

  Angor.
• * 1.254

  P. Rutilius.
• * 1.255

  Theophra••∣tus. Stilpo.
• * 1.256

  Sadnesse.
• * 1.257

  Tristitia quasi, Terra••sti∣tia, vt Solstitium.
• * 1.258

  Promethe∣us. Caucasus.
• * 1.259

  Cicero.
• * 1.260

  Pythagori••i
• * 1.261

  Saturnus.
• * 1.262

  C. Caesar.
• * 1.263

  Brutus. Cassius,
• * 1.264

  Myson.
• * 1.265

  Causes of sadnes.
• * 1.266

  Sadnesse commen∣dable.
• * 1.267

  Pensiue∣nesse. Moeror.
• * 1.268

  Aduersitie.
• * 1.269

  Lacedemo∣nians.
• * 1.270

  Spartanes.
• * 1.271

  Cicero.
• * 1.272

  Lentulus. Cethegus.
• * 1.273

  Demosthe∣nes.
• * 1.274

  Mour∣ning what.
• * 1.275

  Why mourning mislyked of the wise.
• * 1.276

  Anaxagoras
• * 1.277

  Leena.
• * 1.278

  Xenophon.
• * 1.279

  Gryllus.
• * 1.280

  Horatius Puluillus.
• * 1.281

  Plinius se∣cundus.
• * 1.282

  Trouble∣somnesse.
• * 1.283

  Cice. lib 1. de finibus bonorum et malorum.
• * 1.284

  Scipio. Xenophon de iustituti∣one Cyri.
• * 1.285

  Lamenta∣tion.
• * 1.286

  Bellero∣phon.
• * 1.287

  Carefulnes.
• * 1.288

  Aegiptians.
• * 1.289

  Athenians.
• * 1.290

  Diligence the mistres of learning
• * 1.291

  Molestation
• * 1.292

  Afflictati∣on.
• * 1.293

  Lepidus.
• * 1.294

  Dispaire.
• * 1.295

  Philostrates
• * 1.296

  Romanes.
• * 1.297

  Brutus and Cassius. Antonius. Cleopatra.
• * 1.298

  Pachetes.
• * 1.299

  Empedo∣cles.
• * 1.300

  Aristotle.
• * 1.301

  Cato.
• * 1.302

  Ambrocio∣tes.
• * 1.303

  Lactantius de falsa sa∣pientia. Cap. 18.