The workes of Lucius Annæus Seneca, both morrall and naturall Containing, 1. His bookes of benefites. 2. His epistles. 3. His booke of prouidence. 4. Three bookes of anger. 5. Two bookes of clemencie. 6. His booke of a blessed life. 7. His booke of the tranquilitie of the minde. 8. His booke of the constancie of a wiseman. 9. His booke of the shortnesse of life. 10. Two bookes of consolation to Martia. 11. Three bookes of consolation to Heluia. 12. His booke of consolation to Polibius. 13. His seuen bookes of naturall questions. Translated by Tho. Lodge, D. in Physicke.

The Argument of IVSTVS LIPSIVS.

HE prosecuteth the other part of the remedie against Anger, which hee placed in the midst of his former Booke, but differred the same. That we sinne not in Anger, that is that wee refraine the same and represse it; which is performed in diuers sorts. But it must bee done alwayes and presently in a head-long, and vnbridled affection which ARISTO∣TLE excuset••h: But he accuseth him, and once more discouereth the loathsomenes of An∣ger. These things performeth he vntill the fourth Chapter. Then groweth hee to di∣uision alleadging that he will speake of three things. First, how we may not bee angrie. Secondly, how we may be freed from Anger. Thirdly, how we may pacifie and please such a one as is Angrie. These although in other places he performeth with repetition of the former, yet performeth he it worth••ly, and profitably till the end of the Booke: and thou shalt haue golde•• and diuine admonitions and sayings.

CHAP. I.

* 1.1NOW, my Nouatus, will wee attempt to doe that which thou thy selfe hast most instantly desired, namely, how wee may roote out Anger out of our mindes, or at leastwise bridle it and inhi∣bite the assaults thereof. This must bee done sometimes openly and in all mens sight, when as yet the force of the euil is as yet so smal as it can∣not endure it: sometimes secretly when as it is to much inflamed and is exasperated and increa∣seth vpon euerie impediment. We must con∣sider what forces she hath, and how intire they be. Whether she is to be chastised and driuen backe, or whether wee ought to giue pl••ce ••nto her, whilst the fi••st tempest be pacified for feare least shee carrie away those remedies with her, that should reclaime her: and consideration is

to be had, according to euery ones manners. For some are ouercome by pray∣ers, some insult, and are exasperated by submission: Some are ouercome with terrors•• some hath reproofe, other some confession, the third hath shame re∣voked from their purpose, and some by delay, which is the true though slowest remedie of these so head-long passions, wherevnto at the last wee must descend. For other affections admit delay, and may bee healed by little and little, but the sodaine and head-long violence of Anger proceedeth not leasure∣ly, but is wholy intire in the beginning. Neither doth she solicite mens minds after the manner of other vices, but she transporteth them, but vexeth them being no Masters of themselues, and that are as desirous of their owne euill as of an others. Shee sheweth her selfe not only furious against that she vnderta∣keth, but against all that which casually encountereth her in the way. All o∣ther vices incite the minde, wrath casteth i•• downe head-long. The rest al∣though they cannot resist their affections, at least the passions themselues main∣taine themselues, this no otherwise then lightning and tempest and other im∣pressions of the ayre (which are sodaine and fall in an instant) reinforceth it selfe and increaseth more and more. These other vices are estranged from rea∣son, this is wholy destitute, and is a furie. The rest haue light accessions and decieueable increases; in wrath the mindes of men are prostituted and dejected. There is no passion more astonished, that vrgeth more, nothing that imployeth his forces more desperately, and swiftly, or whether it bee that shee get the vp∣per hand (which maketh her more proud) or whether shee hath beene repul∣sed (which inflameth her with furie) she giueth not ouer, neither retireth al∣though she haue beene repulsed; and when Fortune presenteth her not with a∣ny aduersarie shee striketh and biteth her selfe, prouided that shee may main∣taine her selfe: For her beginings are small, but she becommeth maruellously great.

CHAP. II.

SHee ouerslippeth no age,* 1.2 shee excepteth no kind of men. Some Nations thorow the benefit of pouertie a••e exempted from dis∣solution, neither know they what it is: some others haue fled Idlenesse, because they are still in trauell and wander from one Countrie to an other. They that liue rudely and rustikely haue neuer vsed trumperies, nor fraud, nor any of those mischeefes which are bred in places more frequented. There is no Nation vnder Heauen, whether they be Greekes or Barbarians, how puissant soeuer they be, that can say that they are exempted from the assaults and instigations of anger, no lesse pernicious to those, who are subject to certaine Lawes, as to those whose Law is force and a∣mongst whom the strongest is the greatest. To conclude those other passions inuade men in particular•• but wrath is the only passion that layeth hold vpon all men. Neuer was it seene, that one only Nation was supprised with the loue of one only woman. Neyther hath a whole Citie fixed their hopes vpon mony and lucre. Ambiton seazeth this or that man only. Tyrannie hath not dominion in all places. But oftentimes anger hath possessed whole troopes, men, women, old young, Princes and their people haue gathered together to satisfie Anger. And a multitude being incensed by two or three words of him that lead them the way,* 1.3 were moued to mutinie. Forthwith haue they addressed themselues to

••ire, and he that for his eloquence wa•• accounted gracious in al mens eyes, in the middest of honour and the height of his Discourse, hath purchased the displea∣sure of the whole Assemblie. The Legions haue darted their Iauelins against their generall. The people haue bandied against the Senate, and without ex∣pecting the elections or the nomination of Chieftaine of the Armie, haue sud∣denly of themselues chosen out Captaines to execute their furious designes, and rushing into the houses of men of honour, and the best Cittizens, haue executed and put them to death. They haue broken the lawes of Nations by outraging Embassadours, and vnspeakeable furie hath possessed the whole Cittie, they haue not allowed time, to the end the publique insurrection might be pacified, but incontinently haue armed their Nauie, and manned it with the first Souldi∣ers they could get. Without order, without respect of auncient ceremonies the people haue issued forth, being guided and gouerned by their own furie, laying holde on whatsoeuer weapons came casually to their hands, armed themselues therewith, and ••inally by a great and miserable ouerthrow, haue receiued a ••ust punishment for their rashnes and audacious ••ollie.

CHAP. III.

THis is the end of those Barbarians, who runne thus inconsiderate∣ly to warre, as soone as any appearance of iniury hath seized their light braines: they are suddenly moued, and whether despi••e driueth, they rush in desperation into those Regions which they intend to spoyle, without apprehension of danger, or obseruation of discipline; contrariwise, they seeke out misfortunes, they take pleasure to re∣ceiue wounds, and to runne in furiously vpon the points of the sword, and to make them way by the wounds which they receiued. It is not to be doubted, sayest thou but that the effect of choler is very great and dangerous, shew vs therfore som remedies and means how it may be healed. But as I said in my for∣mer Bookes, Aristotle stands forth, and pleades for Anger, and willes vs not to extinguish it wholly in vs.* 1.4 He alleadgeth that it is the spurre of vertue, and that if a man be depriued thereof, his heart is disarmed, and he becommeth recreant, idle, and vnable to execute any great attempts. It is very needfull therefore to reproue the villeiny and beastlines of this vice, and to set before mens eyes how monstrous a thing it is for a man to be so hat••fully and violently bent against another, and what furie is in him who ruinateth himselfe in ru••ning another, and pretending to plunge and drowne certaine things in the Sea, he cannot ef∣fect his purpose but by plunging and drowning himselfe. What then? Will a∣ny man call him sensible or discreet, who being surprised as it were with a tem∣pest goeth not but is driuen, and serueth a furious passion? Neyther comman∣ded other to execute his vengeance, but he himselfe will be agent to performe it, hauing his heart and hand stretched out to satisfie his cruelty, and without sparing (fierce hang-man that he is) his owne and onely friends, yea, and those whom after he hath massacred, he will presently mourne for. Is it possible that any man should admit this p••ssion for an abbeter and companion, and vertue who shutteth out all counsailes, without which vertue can execute nothing. Fraile and sinister are those ••orces, and powerfull to their owne preiudice, into which the sickenesse and the violence of the fit haue driuen the sicke patient. Thinke not therefore that I employ my selfe vnprofitably in defaming Anger,

as if men alreadie doubted thereof. I doe it because there are some found a∣mongst the Philosophers of greatest note and reputation,* 1.5 who hath pleaded for her and said that she is profitable, and animateth the mind vnto battel, and that in humane actions and all other affaires, we ought to manage them with some vigour. But least any man should be deceiued, or should imagine, that either in a certaine time and place it was a thing that were profitable, it behoueth mee to discouer the violent and vnbrideled rage thereof, and set her do 〈◊〉〈◊〉 withall her equipage, such as are her racks, her nerues and strings, her Iailes her gibbets and s••akes to be burned at, and bookes to dragge dead bodies, diuers sortes of shackles, diuers sorts of tortures, the tearing of the s••esh and members, the bran∣ding in the forehead, the dennes of sauage beasts. Let Anger be placed amongst all these instruments where she may gnash her teeth, and whistle out some dire∣full and horrible noyse, being of her selfe more hideous then all that whereof she maketh vse to execute her furie.

CHAP. IIII.

CErtainly although we call the rest in question;* 1.6 yet is there no pas∣sion more deformed then this, as in our former Bookes wee haue presented her fierce and fur••ous, sometimes pale, hauing sudden∣ly repulsed all her bloud to the heart, then inflamed againe, as if her whole heate and spirit were mounted againe into her counte∣nance, hauing her colour bloudie, her veines swolne, her eyes sometimes quiue∣ring an sparkling, sometimes fixed and se••led vpon something. Moreouer, she hath teeth that grinde, crack one against another, desiring to deuoure some one, and making such a noyse as wilde Boares are accustomed to doe when they rub and sharpen their fangs. Adde hereunto the beating of her handes and breast, her often sighes, her groanes, drawne from the depth of her heart, the agi••ation of her whole bodie, her speech intercepted with sudden exclamations, her trembling lips sometime closed and mumbling diuers menaces. I beleeue that the wilde beastes being pressed by famine, or that beare an arrow fixed in their entrailes, yea, and then likewise when they are at their last bay, are not so hide∣ous as a man inflamed with choler. But if you will spare a time to heare her speeches and menaces, which the heart vttereth with tormented rage, would not euery man incontinently retire himselfe from such a danger, when he shall perceiue that Anger beginneth by his owne miserie? Wilt thou not therefore haue me admonish those, who do all that they can, to make it knowne, that they are cholericke, and thinke it to be a proofe of their value, that a man transpor∣ted with choler cannot be called couragious and free, but feeble and slaue vnto all others? Wilt thou not suffer me to aduertise those that are more circum∣spect to looke about themselues, that some other passions of the minde doe in∣uade the wicked, but Anger stealeth into the hearts of the most learned Clerks, and that otherwise behaue themselues like good men, so that some men thinke Anger to be a token of simplicity, and ordinarily we suppose that he that is most honest, hath his part of this infirmitie.

CHAP. V.

* 1.7WHereto then tendeth this Discourse•• To the end that no man should suppose himselfe to be warranted from this passion, be∣cause she induceth those men that are modest and peaceable by nature, to become rude and violent. Euen as a good disposition of bodie, and the care to maintaine our selues in health, preuay∣leth nothing against the plague, which indifferently la••eth holde both on w••ake and strong; so in Anger there is a danger as well for them that are disordered, as for those men that are sober and peaceable, and haue care of themselues, the more the trouble, which Anger causeth in th••m is great. But for as much as the first remedie is not to be angrie, the second to refraine Anger the third to reme∣die another mans Anger, I will first of all shew th•• meanes how to auoyde An∣ger, secondly, how we may discharge our selues of Anger, if it beginneth to be enkindled in vs; thirdly, in what sort we may pacifie a man that is displeased, and temper and reduce him to reason. We shall subdue Anger, if from time to time we represent vnto our selues all those vices that are hatched vnder this passion, and if we consider the same as we ought, with all her dependances and appurtenances; we must accuse her before our selues, condemne her, examine her infirmities, and lay her open to view; then compare her with the most de∣testable vices, to the end that as yet we may be better instructed what she is. A∣uarice gathereth and locketh vp for a honest man that is not couetous: wrath consumeth all, and gratifieth very few, and is welcome to none. An angry Ma∣ster hath driuen som of his seruants to runne away, some hath he put to death•• when as he lost more by being angry, then that was for which hee was angry: wrath hath made the father mourne, the husband to bee diuorced, the magi∣strate to be hated, and the Candidate to be repulsed. It is worser likewise then ryot, because she taketh pleasure in her owne delights, this in another mans sor∣row. She surpasseth malignitie and hatred; for they are contented to see any man become vnhappie, this will make them vnhappy; the other two reioyce at those euils which come casually, she cannot expect fortune, she will hurt him whom she hateth, and will not be hurt. There is nothing so grieuous as secret hatred, but wrath concealeth it. What is more lamentable then warre? therein is it that men discouer their displeasures. Moreouer, that publique and priuate Anger is a weake and forcelesse warre. Furthermore without recounting those damages which we will adde hereafter, nor of ambushes, nor of perpetuall care•• which engender so many quarrels, wrath intending to reuenge her selfe punish∣eth her selfe, she is the canker of humane nature. For Nature inuiteth vs to ami∣tie, Anger to hatred; Nature commaundeth vs to assist one another, Anger to hate one another, the one commandeth vs to profite, the other to hurt. Adde hereunto, that whereas indignation proceedeth from an ouer great suspicion of himselfe, and seemeth to be couragious, yet is she weake and infirme; for no man is lesse then he by whom he suspecteth himselfe to be contemned. But a man that is truely valiant, and that knoweth his owne worth, reuengeth not an iniurie, because he feeleth it not. Euen as arrowes recoile backe if they be shot at some stonie and hard marke and such solid things as are strucken, procure his griefe that striketh them; so is there no iniury that may pierce a great heart, it is farre weaker then that she attempteth. How farre more worthy a thing is it to dispise all iniuries and contumelies, as if the mind•• were impregnable. Reuenge

is a confession of paine. The minde is not great which is animated by iniurie. Eyther a stronger then thy selfe, or a weaker ••ath wronged thee; if he be wea∣ker then thy selfe, spare him, if mightier support thy selfe.

CHAP. VI.

THere ••s no one more certain argument of true magnanimity, then if thou resolue thy selfe,* 1.8 that nothing may befall thee that may moue thee. The highest and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 gouerned part of the world, and neerest to the starres, is not troubled with clouds, not subiect to tempests, nor afflicted with stormes: there is no tumult in the same, the inferiour heauens push forth lightnings. In like sort a sublimed and high spirit is alwayes quiet, and placed in a peaceable station, restrayning in him∣selfe that, whence Anger borroweth an occasion of contention: it is moderate, venerable and setled. But thou shalt finde none of these in an angry man: for who is he that is betraied to sorrow and furie, that hath not reiected his former modesty? Who is he that is turbulent in passion, and incensed against another man, that hath not dispossessed himselfe of all shame fastnesse? What man is he that is displeased, that keepeth any measure, or remembr••th him of his due••y, or containeth his tongue, who hath beene Master of any on•• part of his bodie; who could gouern himselfe? That notable lesson of Democritus to finde out the true repose will profite vs infinitely, If we doe nothing eyther priuately or publikely that exceedeth our forces. Neuer doe things succeede so happily vnto any man who intermedleth with many affaires, but that sometimes by some one man, or from the affaires themselues, there ariseth some fault which disposeth the heart vnto Anger. Euen as he that trauelleth hastily thorow the frequented streetes of a Cittie, must meete with many men, and in one place ••••••p, in another be stop∣ped, and in a third be besprinckled with dir••; so in the trauaile & walkes of this life, so confouded and confused, there happen many impediments and manie quarrels: the one hath deceiued our hope, another hath deferred it, another hath intercepted it, the euents haue not beene answerable to our expectation. Fortune is not so addicted to any man that she yeeldeth him euery way corre∣spondence in his manifold attempts. It followeth therefore that he knoweth not what it is to endure men, nor the estate of humane affaires, who thinkes that any thing befalleth him otherwise then hee made reckoning of. To the end therfore that the mind may be quiet, it is not to be ••ossed, neither as I said; trou∣bled with the managing of many affaires, nor to be charged with mighty af∣faires, and such as exceede her strength. It is an easie matter to carry light bur∣thens, and to cast them from one shoulder to another, without letting them fal. But if any one hath loaded vs, and the burthen be heauy, we carry it with much labour, and finally we discharge it vpon those that are neerest vs, or if we pant vnder the burthen by reason we are ouer loden, it is hard for vs to goe forwards or backewards without staggering.

CHAP. VII.

* 1.9KNow thou that the same falleth out in ciuill and domestique mat∣ters. Those affaires that are ••as••y and light, accompanie him that doth them, those that are ouer-great and exceede his might, that acteth them, are vneasie to compasse, and after a man hath laid holde of them, they puzzle and oppresse him that carrieth them: finally when he thinketh that he hath best hold of them, hee stumbleth, falleth, and his burthen rowleth downe vpon him, and troubleth him. Thence falleth it out often times, that hee who vndertaketh difficult matters, and would make them easie, is frustrated of the most part of his thoughts. In all thine enterprises, measure thy selfe together with those thinges which thou wilt manage, and whereunto thou addressest thy selfe, otherwise the displea∣sure thou shalt conceiue in leauing thy worke vnperfect, will make thee mar∣uellously pensiue. In this place wee ought to obserue whether a man bee of a violent spirit, or setled, or fearefull: In a generous mind, repulse will inkindle wrath, in a faint and abject minde, sadnesse: Let therefore our action bee ney∣ther too small nor too audacious, nor too wicked; let vs follow those things that are answerable to our hope, let vs attempt nothing, that when wee haue attai∣ned the same, will make vs wonder at the successe thereof.

CHAP. VIII.

* 1.10LEt vs take order that wee receiue not such an injurie which wee cannot disgeast. Let vs lead our liues with temperate and familiar men, not with those that are troublesome and foolish: men in∣vest their manners with whom they are conuersant. And as some infirmities of the bodie are deriued and transported by at∣touchment, so the soule communicateth her infirmities and passions, to those that approch her. A Drunkard hath drawne his companion into loue with wine, and the companie of dissolute fellowes hath effeminated a man who should be as hard as the rocke. Auarice empoysoneth those that dwell neere vnto her; contrariwise, there is the same reason as is touching vertues, which moderate all things that are with them: neyther was any profitable countrey or wholsome aire more healthful for mans bodie, then for good mindes that are scarce setled to conuerse with good men, which thing how auaileable it is thou shalt vnderstand, if thou consider how wilde beasts are tamed by mens handling, and how the fiercest beast laieth by his furie, if he hath long time bin vnder the discipline of a man. That whch is furious in her is lenified and tempered by lit∣tle and little. Moreouer he that conuerseth with peaceable and good men, not only becommeth better by reason of their example, but in as much likewise as he findeth no occasions to be displeased; he is not in practise of the passion. He ought therefore to flie from all these, who in his knowledge are disposed and ea∣sily prouoked vnto Anger. And who are they, saist thou? many such as vpon diuers causes will doe the same. The proude man will offend thee with con∣tempt, the rich man with contumely, the lasciuious man with iniurie, the hate∣full man with malignitie, the quarrelsome by contention, the boaster and lyer by vanitie. Thou wilt not endure to be feared by a suspicious man, to be ouer∣come

by an obstinate, to be scorned by an effeminate man. Make choice of simple facile and moderate men, who wil neither prouoke thee to wrath, nor be mou••d though thou offend them. But as yet more profit shalt thou reap from submisse, curteous, and affable men, yet not so pliant as they may proue flatterers, for too much flatterie offendeth angry men. I had a friend & he an honest man, but yet otherwaies too ready to be moued, who was as litle pleased with flatterie as he was with reproofe. It is well known that Caelius the Oratour was extremly cho∣lerick with whom, as it is reported, there supped a client of his within his cham∣ber, who was indowed with singular patience, but hard was it for him being met with such a companion, to auoid his displeasure, with whom he supped. He ther∣fore thought it to be the best to smooth him vp in whatsoeuer he said, & to giue way to him. Caelius could not indure this smoothing, but exclaimed. Speake some∣what against me that we may be two. But he also because being angrie, he saw the o∣ther pacified & silent gaue ouer his displeasure, because he had no aduersary. Let vs therefore at least-wise make choice of these (if we by priuy to our own imper∣fections) that wil apply themselues to our manners and discourse, vndoubtedly they wi••l make vs delicate and bring vs into an euill custome, not to giue ••are to any thing that is displeasing vnto vs, yet shall this profit vs, that they allow vs some intermission and quiet in our errour. A hard and vntamed nature likewise will indure a flattering and affable entertainment. Nothing is harsh and displea∣sing when we smooth and handle it gently. As oft as the disputation shall bee longer or more eager, let vs resist at first before it be inforced. Contention nou∣risheth it selfe and layes holde on those that flie her. It is easier for a man to ab∣staine from a debate, then to retire himselfe.

CHAP. IX.

MOreouer such as are angrie ought to forbeare all serious studies,* 1.11 or at least wise they are to exercise them without lassitude, and the minde ought not to be busied in many things, but to be entertai∣ned with more pleasing studies. Let the reading of Poets pacifi•• him, and the ouerloking of Histories content him with varieties, let him be handled more tenderly a••d delicately. Pithagoras pacified the per∣turbations of the mind by his Harpe. But who knoweth not that Clarions and Trumpets doe wonderfully moue? and that there are some straines of voice and musick which make the mind tractable? Great things are profitable for con∣fused eyes, and there are other coulors that content the feeble sight, and the brightnes of some other doth blemish them, so the studie of pleasant stories doth comfort languishing spirits. We must flie the places, the pleas, and courts where audience is giuen, all which doe exulcerate the minde, and beware like∣wise to weri•• our bodies. For lassitude consumeth all that which is sweete and plausible in vs, and awakeneth that which is sharpe and stirring. For this cause they that haue no good stomack intending to imploy themselues in some mat∣ters of importance, are accustomed to represse the cholericke humor which tra∣uell stirreth ouer much, by eating some little thing, and the rather because hun∣ger extinguisheth natural heat, hurteth the bloud, and staieth the course therof, by reason that the veines are trauelled, or because the body being attenuated & faint incountereth the soule. Vndoubtedly for the same cause & consideration sickmen & old men are subject vnto anger. And therfore for the same causes are hunger & thirst to be auoided because they exasperate & inflame mens minds.

CHAP. X.

* 1.12IT is an old saying, That it is easie to driue a wearied man into the frets. As much may bee said of him that is a hungrie, of him that is drie, and by euery man that is displeased at any thing. For as vlcers vpon euery light touch, and afterwards vpon a shew of touching, seeme painfull, so the minde that is affected, is offen∣ded with the least things, in so much as a salutation, an Epistle, an Oration, and Interrogation prouoke them to displeasure. Such as are pained, are neuer tou∣ched without complaining. And therefore it is the best to take medicine vpon the first sence or appearance of the sicknesse, in like sort to giue no libertie to our discourses, but to refraine them carefully. But when the passions begin to take head, and burst forth it is an easie matter to restraine them. There are certaine signes which goe before a sicknesse. Euen as tempests and showers haue certaine signes before they fall, so Anger, loue, and all these stormes which vexe the minde; haue certaine tokens to presage them. Such as are sub∣iect to the falling sicknesse vnderstand that their fit is at hand, when as the tops of their fingers and toes are cold, when their sight is darkned, when their me∣morie faileth them, when their head turneth, and their nerues are contracted; Then haue they recourse to their accustomed remedies to preuent their fall•• that is at hand: by potions or perfumes they driue away that sicknesse which in this sort alieneth their sences, with fomentations they resist the conflict of their cold, and the rigour of their infirmitie. If these remedies relieue them not, they retire themselues apart and fall where no man seeth them. It shall profit a man much if he know his disease, and if hee bee experienced to cut of the violence thereof, before it hath gotten power to exspaciate. Let vs consider what it is that offendeth vs most. One man is moued by bitter words, another by some outrages that are offred him. This man will haue his nobilitie supported, that man his beautie. Such a one desireth to be reputed a gallant fellow, that other to be most learned; this man is impatient of pride, that other of contumacie. He thinketh his seruants vnworthie to draw him to displeasure. The other is a Tyrant within doores, and gentle without. Such a one thinketh himselfe moc∣ked, if he bee intreated. That other a contumely if hee bee not requested. All men are not strooken in one place.

CHAP. XI.

* 1.13THou must therfore know what is weake in thee, to the intent that most of al thou maist preuent the same: it is not expedient for vs to see al things, nor to heare all things. Let many injuries passe by vs, and he that indeuoreth himselfe not to know them, is for the most part waranted from thē. Wilt thou not be angrie? be not curious. Who inquireth what is spoken against himselfe? Who wil ••ound and search out what euill speeches are spoken by him secretly, doth himselfe disquiet himselfe. An euell interpretation maketh vs suppose that a word which is spoken by vs is a great outrage. Some things therfore are to be differed, some things to be delu∣dred, and somethings to be pardoned. Wrath in diuers sorts must be circumscri∣bed, and diuers things are to be turned to jest and sport. They say that Socrates

hauing receiued a boxe on the care, said nothing else but: That it was a great fault,* 1.14 that men knew not when they should come abroad with a helmet vpon their heads. It skils not how the injurie be done, but how it is suffered. Neither see I why moderation should be a hard matter, when as I knew that the minds of certaine Tyrants being puffed vp by fortune and libertie, haue repressed that crueltie which was familiar vnto them. It is reported that Pisistratus a Tyrant in Athens, when as a certaine Drunken man, that sat at banquet with him, had spoken ma∣nie thinges against his crueltie (and there wanted not some•• who would haue executed whatsoeuer hee should haue commaunded, and one man on this side, and another on the other, laboured to inkindle his displeasure) that hee tooke all things patiently, and answered those, that prouoked him after this manner: That hee was no more angrie with him; then if a blindfolde fellow hauing his eyes tyed vp should runne vpon him. The greater part of men haue bred quarrell to them∣selues; either by suspecting false things, or by aggrauating small things.

CHAP. XII.

OFtimes Anger seeketh vs out,* 1.15 more oftentimes search wee her, which is neuer to bee called for, but euen then when wee light vpon her, then ought we to reject her. No man saith vnto him∣selfe; This for which I am displeased, either I haue done my selfe, or else I might haue done it. No man estimateth the minde of him, that committeth the fault, but the fact it selfe. Yet this is to be lookt into, whe∣ther he did it wittingly or casually; whether he were compelled or deceiued; whether he did it for hatred or reward; whether of his owne accord or by ano∣ther mans instigation. Furthermore, the age and fortune of him that doth this is to be respected much, to the end we may support the one with sweetnes, the other with respect. Let vs put our selues in his place against whom we are dis∣pleased; now doth the wrong estimation of our selues make vs angry, and those things which we would doe we will not suffer. Each man is not patient; but the greatest remedie against wrath is delay, that the first furie thereof may bee repressed, and that mist which dulleth our mindes eyther may be dispersed, or be lesse thicke. There are some of those things which carry thee away head∣long, which I say, not a day but an houre may rectifie, some of these will wholly vanish. If in this case we demand delay, it then appeareth that it is not Anger but reason that commandeth. What soeuer it be thou wouldest know what it is, deliuer it into the hands of time. A man cannot diligently obserue that which passeth away swiftly. Plato could not obtain any delay from himselfe when he was angry with his seruant, but commanded him presently to lay by his coat, and to yeeld his shoulders to the stroaks of the whip, which he himselfe would l••y on. After he knew that he was angrie, he withdrew his hand that was rea∣dy to strike, and strooke like vnto him that was like to be striken. Beeing after∣wards demaunded by his friend, who came thither by chance, what he did? I (saith he) chastise a man that is angrie. This wise-man, astonished at this his de∣formed countenance and iesture, tooke no more heed to his slaue, because he had found another, whom he ought rather to haue chastised; he therefore de∣priued himselfe of that authoritie ouer his seruants; and notwithstanding be∣cause his seruant had committed some fault that was worthy punishment, hee said vnto SPEVSIPPVS, I pray thee chastise my seruant with stroakes, because I am

angrie. He beateth him not for that which another had beaten him: I am an∣grie, said he, I shall doe more then I should. I will doe it more willingly. Let not this seruant be in his power that is not Master of himselfe. Will any man commit reuenge to a wrathfull man, since Plato hath taken his authority from himselfe? Let nothing be lawfull for thee as long as thou art angry: why? be∣cause thou wilt haue all things lawfull for thee. Fight thou with thy selfe, if thou canst not ouercome thine Anger, she beginneth to ouercome thee; if she be hidden, if we cannot giue her issue, let vs burie the signes thereof, and let vs as much as in vs lyeth keepe it hidden and secret.

CHAP. XIII.

* 1.16THis cannot be done but with great labour; for she desireth to leap out to inflame the eyes, and to change the face: but if she may once shew her selfe without vs, she is aboue vs. Let vs hide her in the lowest retreat of our breasts, and let her there be concealed, but so, as she transport vs not; and which is more, let vs change all her signs, & all her marks to the contrary, let our countenance be more peacea∣ble, our voyce more tempered, or pace more setled; let vs by little conforme both the interior and exterior parts. It was a signe of Anger in Socrates when he humbled his voyce and spake sparingly; for at that time it appeared that he re∣sisted himselfe. He was therefore both perceiued and reproued by his famili∣ars; neyther tooke he in ill part to heare the reproofe of his concealed Anger. Why should he not reioyce because many vnderstood his Anger, no man felt it, but it had beene perceiued, except he had giuen his friends power to chide him, as he himselfe had assumed the authoritie to reproue them. How much more ought we to doe this? Let vs intreat euery one of our deerest friends at that time, especially to vse his most libertie against vs, when we are least able to endure him, neyther let him flatter with our Anger. Against so powerfull an e∣uill, and so gratious in our eyes, let vs call for our friends helpe whilst our eyes are opened•• and we are Masters of our selues.

CHAP. XIIII.

* 1.17THey that can hardly beare Wine, and that feare the folly and in∣solence of drunkennesse, command their seruants to carry them from the place where they solemnize their festiuals. They that haue the experience, that their intemperance hath been the cause of their sickenesse, forbad their seruants to giue them their wills during the time of their infirmitie. It is the best for it to prouide some impedi∣ments against knowne vices, and aboue all things so to compose our minds, that although it be shaken by the most grieuous and sudden accidents that may be, it eyther feele not wrath, or to restraine and embase the weight of the iniurie, that hath beene vnaduisedly offered him, without discouering his griefe. That this may be done, it shall appeare manifestly, if out of a great many examples, I shall produce some few, out of which a man may learne both how great euill anger hath in it, when she vseth the power of the most mightiest men, and how much she may command, as soone as she is curbed by a greater feare. Cambyses

the King,* 1.18 a Prince too much subiect to wine, was admonished by Prexaspes, who was one of his Minions, to drinke lesse, saying, That drunkennesse was a loathsome thing in a King, who was followed by all mens eares and eyes. To this he answered, To the end thou mayest know (said he) that I am neuer out of temper, I will presently ap∣proue that after wine both mine handes and eyes can doe their office. Hereupon hee began to drinke more freely then otherwise he was accustomed, and in greater cups, and being thus loaden and drunke with wine, hee commanded his sonne who had reproued, to get without the doore of the Pallace, and laying his left hand on his head, to stand there vprightly; then bent he his Bow, and with the Arrow he shot, diuided he the young mans heart, as he had protested to do, and opening his breast he shewed him the head of the Arrow sticking in his heart, and looking backe vpon the father, he said, Now Sir, is not my hand steddy? who denied that Apollo could haue shot with better leuell. The gods confound him, more slauish in mind then in condition; for praysing such an action wher∣unto it was ouermuch for him to be an assistant. He thought he had gotten a good occasion to flatter, when his sonnes breast was diuided into two parts, and the heart as yet panted vnder the wound: he should haue contested for glorie against Cambyses, and challenged him to a second proofe, whether he could as rightly hit the heart of the father, as he had don•• of his sonne. O cruell King, worthy that all his subiects bowes should be bent against him. When we haue cursed him that ended his banquet•• with punishments and funerals, we cannot but detest Praxaspes for his vnnatural commendation of the shot•• as well as Cam∣byses for shooting it. We see how the father should haue demeaned himselfe, being vpon the dead bodie of his sonne, and witnesse of the murther whereof he was the cause. That which is now in question appeareth that choler may be suppressed. He cursed not the King, neyther vttered he one word of compassi∣on, although his heart were as much wounded as that of his sonnes. It may be said, that he deseruedly deuoured his words, for had he spoken any thing as if he had beene displeased, he could haue done nothing that became a father. It may seeme, saith he, that he behaued himselfe more considerately in that case, then when he reproued Cambyses for his immoderate drinking; and it had been better for him to haue suffered him to drink wine then bloud, who hauing the cup in his hand, and being occupied in drinking, suffered others to liue in peace: he was therefore to be numbred for one of those, who to their great miseries haue made it manifest, how deare good counsailes cost them who are Kings fa∣uourites.

CHAP. XV.

I Doubt not but that Harpagus had spoken some such like thing to his Master Astiages King of Persia,* 1.19 by reason whereof he was so much incensed, that he feasted the olde man with the flesh of his children, and afterwards asked him how ••ee liked the dressing. Afterwards, as soone as he saw that he was glutted with his owne miseries, he commanded their ••eads to be brought forth, and asked him, How he liked them? The wretched man wanted no words, he faltred not in his speech, but said, With a King euery supper is pleasant. What profited he by this flatterie? This, that he•• was not inuited to the relicks of the banquet. I forbid not the fa∣ther to condemne the Kings action, I forbid him not to seeke a condigne re∣uenge

for so horrible an iniurie; but this in the interim will I say, that wrath which ariseth from extreame euils may be hidden, and be constrained to speake wholly contrary to his minde. This restraint of sorrow is necessary for those especially who haunt the Court, and are inuited to Princes Tables. Thus must they eate with them, thus must they drinke, thus must they answere, thus must they smile at their childrens funerals. Let vs consider whether life bee a thing that should be so much set by, although it concerne not this matter. Shall we take pleasure to remaine in so loathsome a prison? Shall wee counsaile our selues to continue vnder the yoake of murtherers? Contrariwise, we will make it knowne, that in all oppressions the way of libertie is laid open to vs. If the minde be infirme and miserable through his owne fault, he may end his miseries in himselfe. I will say both to him that attended the King, who shot his arrows against the hearts of his frinds, and to him whose Master glutted the fathers sto∣macke with his childrens bowels. Why mournest thou mad man? Expectest thou that some enemie destroying thy nation, or that some puissant King mar∣ching out from a farre,* 1.20 shall reuenge that iniurie which is done vnto thee? On what side soeuer thou turnest thy selfe, there is the end of these miseries. Seest thou yonder steepie place? from thence mayest thou descend to thy libertie. Seest thou that Sea? Seest thou that Riuer or that Pit? Libertie sitteth in the bottom therof. Seest thou that short, withered, and fatall tree? Libertie depend∣eth thereon. Seest thou thou thy throat, thy we sand-pipe, thy heart? These are the meanes to escape seruitude. Thou shewest mee too dangerous and bu∣sie meanes to escape, and such as require a great minde and courage. Enquirest thou which is the way to libertie? Euery veine in thy bodie.

CHAP. XVI.

AS long therefore as there is nothing in our opinion so intollerable that it should expell vs out of life,* 1.21 let vs remoue Anger from vs in whatsoeuer estate we shall be. Pernicious is she to those that serue; for indignation serueth not but to increase her torment, and the commandements that are giuen her seem to be more grie∣uous and troublesome, the more obstinately shee suffereth them: so the wilde beast, the more he struggles in the net, the more is he intangled: so birds, whilst fearefully they shake off the bird-lime, intangle and snare all their feathers. There is none so hard a yoake that so much hurteth him that beares it willing∣ly, as him that repineth against it. The onely remedie of the greatest miseries is to suffer them willingly, and to apply himselfe to those necessities which pre∣sent themselues. But whereas this continencie is profitable for those that serue, so the bridling of affections, and of this especially which is so furious and vn∣bridled, a passion is most necessary for Kings. All things goe to wracke when fortune permitteth as much as Anger perswadeth; neyther can that power continue long which is exercised to many mens miseries: for great men put themselues into maruailous danger, when common feare ioyneth those toge∣ther who lament in their particular. Diuers therefore of them haue been slaine by seuerall persons, and sometimes by the whole multitude, when sorrow hath constrained them to ioyne their displeasures in one. But diuers haue so exerci∣sed their Anger, as if it had beene a Kingly matter. Amongst these was Darius, he (after he had extinguisht the Empire of the Magies) ouercame the Persians,

and a greater part of the East. For hauing denounced warre against the Scythi∣ans that dwelt about the countrey, a Noble and auncient Gentleman called Oebasus, besought him that ••e would leaue one of his children behinde him, to be a comfort to his father, and content himselfe with the seruice of two of them, he promised more then he required at his handes, and that hee would dismisse them all; hereupon he caused them to be slaine, and cast their bodies downe before their fathers eyes, to the end he might not be esteemed cruell, if he had carried them away all three.

CHAP. XVII.

BVt how much more facile was Zerxes,* 1.22 who when Pithius the father of fiue sons, required the dismision of one of them, which soeuer he pleased, gaue him leaue to chuse him whom he best liked, and afterwards when he had made his choyce, diuiding that sonne in∣to two pieces, he cast them on eyther side of the way, and by this sacrifice purified his armie? But this Prince was chastised according to his de∣merites: for after he had beene ouercome and discomforted on euery side, and behelde the heapes of dead souldiers on euery side, hee marched thorow the midst of their murthered carkasses. Such was the naturall furie of barbarous Kings, ignorant and enemies of good letters•• whence ensued Anger. But I will bring thee forth Alexander out of Aristotles schoole, who in midst of his festi∣uals, and with his owne handes murthered his owne friend Clitus, who had bin brought vp with him, because hee could not flatter, and from a Macedonian and free man would not become a seruile Persian. He likewise exposed Lysima∣chus (who was as familiar with him as the other) to the furie of a Lion. But did this Lysimachus (who had so happie fortune to escape the teeth of a Lion) for this cause become more milde, when he obtained a kingdome? no. For hee cut of the nose and eares of Telesphorus the Rhodian, who was his deere friend and afterwards (as if hee had beene some strange beast) kept him closed in a cage, wherein he fed him, being vnable to obserue any thing of a man in him, by reason of the deformitie of his face, of hunger and filth, and his ordure, wherein this poore Creature lay buried; hauing his knees and handes hardned, because the cage was ouer low for him; and would not suffer him to stand, vp∣right. Besides by reason of often rubbing himselfe his sides were all flead so that he seemed lothsom and dread••ull to all those that beheld him, and being made a Monster by this punishment, he lost also all compassion. Yet when he was most vnlike v••to a man, who suffered these thinges, yet was hee more vn∣like, who did the same.

CHAP. XVIII.

I Could haue wished that this cruell passion had remained amongst the Barbarians,* 1.23 and had not taken possession of the hearts of vs that are Romanes, with other vices drawne from ••orraine Coun∣tries, and with the furie of diuers new punishments, and meanes of reuenge. Marcus Marius, in whose honour the people had raised Statues in euery streete, to whom with franckinsence and wine the Romanes sacrificed as

to a god. By Lucius Sylla••s cōmand had his legge broken, his eyes pulled out, and his hands cut off; and as if he had killed him so oft as he wounded him, by little and little, he peece-meale drew euery part of him in peec••••. Who executed this commandement? Who could it be but Cataline? Who at this time exercised his hands in all hainous stratagems. Hee cut this poore body in peeces before the Tombe of Quintus Catulus, troubling with extreame insolence, the reuerend Ashes of the mildest man of his time, on which Marius a man culpable in ma∣nie kindes (yet agreeable to the people and not without cause, although it may be that it was more then reason) shed his bloud drop by drop. Worthy was Marius to endure those things; Sylla to command it, and Cataline to execute it. But vnworthie was the commonweale to receiue into her body at once, the swords both of her enemies and Citizens. Why seeke I out so farre-••et exam∣ples? Not long since Caius Caesar caused Sextus Papinius, whose father had beene a Consull, and Bollenius Bassus who had beene Thresurer, and the sonne of his procurer, and other Senatours and Romane Knights, to be whipt and tormen∣ted in one day, not because they had offended, but for his minde sake. Againe, so impatient was he to differ his content, which his immeasurable crueltie inci∣ted him to take without delay, that walking in an Allie of his mothers garden, which seperateth the porch from the riuer banke, hee beheaded some, with di∣uers Ladies and Senatours by torch-light; what is that which prouoked him? what danger either publicke or priuate threatned him to execute those per∣sons by night? Was it so great a matter to stay till day light? But he would not haue his Pantofles on, when hee caused Romanes and Senatours to bee mur∣thered.

CHAP. XIX.

* 1.24HOw proude his crueltie was, it shall bee materiall to examine: al∣though some may esteeme that wee wander from th•• purpose, and containe not our selues in the right path, but this shall bee a prancke of worth enraged aboue ordinarie. He had caused Sena∣tours to be whipped: yea, so great was his insolence that it might be said, that it was an ordinarie matter. Hee had subiected them to those tor∣ments and so cruell; that might bee possibly inuented, as to traine them and brake them by ropes, to torment them by pressing, by racke, by fire, and by his furious countenance. And in this place, some may answere and say, what a trifling matter is this, if three Senatours were like base slaues whipped and burned, by such a man who daily meditated on the death of the whole Senate, who wished that the Romane people had but one head; to the end that there so many offences committed in so many places and times, might bee punished in one strooke, and at one time? What hath beene lesse heard of then night punishment? Whereas thefts are wont to bee hidden by night: and punish∣ments, the more publicke they be, the more profit they for other mens exam∣ple and amendment. In this place some will answere me; That which thou so much admirest at, is this beasts daily exercise. Hee liueth for this, he watcheth for this, he studieth for this; Truely there shal no other man be found that had gouernement, ou••r these whom ••e commanded to bee punished, that stopped their mouthes with a spunge, for feare least they should haue libertie to speake. What euery dying man had not this benefit to bemoan•• himselfe? But hee

was afraide, least some extreame paine should make any man vtter his minde boldly; and he feared likewise le••t •••• should hear•• those things which he would not. He knew also that there were many other infinite things, which no man durst obiect against him, except it were such a one that was ready to suffer death. When as spunges were not in readinesse, hee caused the wretches gar∣ments to be cut in pieces, and to be thrust into their mouthes•• what crueltie is this? Let it be lawfull for a man to draw his la••t breath; giue place to the Soule that shee may freely depart; Let her bee suffered to haue passage by some o∣ther way, then by the wound which the body hath receiued.

CHAP. XX.

IT were too long a matter to adde vnto these,* 1.25 how many of their fathers whom hee had put to death, were murthered the sam•• night by the hands of Centurions, by the command of this piti∣full Prince, who thought good by these meanes, to deliuer the fathers from bewailing their childrens deathes? For my intenti∣on is not to discouer Caius crueltie, but the miserie of Anger, which not onely executeth her furie against one man or other, but also spoyleth whole Cities and Nations, and beateth riuers also which are free from all sence of paine. As Cambyses King of Persia,* 1.26 who cut off the noses of all the people in Syria, by meanes whereof the place was afterwards called Rhinocolura. Thinkest thou that he spared them, because he cut not off their heads? Hee tooke delight in a new kind of punishment. Such like should the AEthiopians haue suffered, who by reason of their long life, are called Macrobij. For against these, because they entertained not willingly the subiection that was offered them, but gaue free answeres to those Ambassadours that were sent vnto them•• which Kings call contumelious. Cambyses was mad at them, and without prouision of pro∣uant and victuals, without discouerie of the Countrie, by vnhaunted and san∣die wayes, heled all his troopes that were ••it for the warre, which after the first dayes march wanted victuals, neither did the barraine and vnmanured Coun∣trie, vntracted by any foote, minister them any thing. First satisfied they their hunger with the tender leaues and tops of trees, then by leather molified by ••ire, and whatsoeuer necessitie had made meate. But when as amidst the sands both rootes and herbes failed them, and the desert was found voide of all liuing creatures, they killed euery tenth man, and thereby had sustenance more dreadfull then famine; yet notwithstanding, all this Anger caried the King on headlong. Hauing lost one part of his Armie, and eaten another, vn∣till such time as he feared least amongst others that were called, the lot should fall on himselfe, then at length sounded hee a retreate. In the meane space, the best fowle was kept for his vse, and the instruments of his banquets were cari∣ed vpon Cammels, whilest his Souldiers cast lots which of them should die mi∣serable, and which of them should liue worse.

CHAP. XXI.

THis man was angrie with a Nation vnknowne vnto him, and inno∣cent of themselues, yet such as had he prospered should haue ta∣sted of his furie. But Cyrus was angrie with a Riuer: For marching on diligently to the warre, the greatest moment whereof consi∣steth in taking oportunities and intending to surprise Babilon, hee attempted to passe ouer the huge Riuer of Gynde, which was scarcely passable in the height of Sommer, and when the water is at the lowest. There one of those white horses which were wont to draw his Kingly Chariot, was carried away violently by the streame, whereat the King was mightily mooued; and swore that he would bring that Riuer which had carried away his Princely baggage to that passe that euen verie women should bee able to get oner it without wet∣ting their shooes. Which said, he imployed all his forces herein, and continued so long that hauing digged nine score chanels to turne the Riuer, he afterwards reduced it into three hundreth and sixtie armes or brookes, so that that great channel became drie, the waters being dreined by so many other wayes. Thus spent ••e the time which is an irreuocable losse in a••faires of consequence, thus abated he his Souldiers courage, who were broken by vnprofitable labours, and had lost their occasion and preparation for the assault, whilst he hauing procla∣med warre against his enemies, grew at ods with a Riuer.

* 1.27CHAP. XXII.

THis furie (for what else canst thou name it?) seazed the Romans likewise. For Caius Caesar ouerthrew a faire house of pleasure which was builded for pleasure neere to Ponzol, because some∣times his mother had beene kept prisoner in it, and made the fortu••e thereof notable hereby. For when it stood: the pas∣sengers that ••a••led by, enquired what it was, and now they dema••nd why it is ruined. And as well oughtest thou to thinke on these examples, to the end to auoide them, as on those on the contrarie part which thou art to follow, which are both moderate and gentle; who neither wanted cause to bee angrie, nor power to reuenge themselues. For what was more easie and facile for Antigo∣nus? then to command two of his Souldiers to be put to death, who lea••ing vpon the Royall tent, did that which men doe most dangerously and willingly that thinke euill of their Prince. Antigonus heard all that they speake, because betwixt them that talked, and him that heard there was but a Tapestrie, which he softly pulled aside, and said Get somewhat farther of for feare•• least the King heare you. The same Prince vpon a certaine night, when hee had heard certaine of his Souldiers detesting and cursing him diuers wayes, who had led them into that journie and durtie march, came vnto them that were most displeased, and whereas they knew not by whom they were helped, he satisfied them, and said: Now curse ANTIGONVS by whose fault you were drawne into these miseries, but wish him well, notwithstanding who brough•• you out of this bog. The same as pa∣tiently endured the reproches of his enemies, as of his Citizens. When as therfore the Graecians were besieged in a small Castle, and contemning the ene∣mie

by reason of the place jested vpon Antigonus deformitie, and sometimes derided his low stature, otherwhiles his hooked nose. I am glad said he, and, con∣ceiue some good hope if I haue SILENVS in my Campe.* 1.28 After hee had ouercome these brabl••rs by famine, he vsed the captiues in such sort, that he placed those that were fit for warre amongst his owne companies and the rest he sold by the Crier, and this he said, he would not haue done vnlesse it had beene exped••ent for them to haue a Gouernour who had so bad tongues. His Nephew was A∣lexander, who darted his Iauelin against his table-guests, who of these two friends which he had, as I told you a litle before, made the one a pray to a Lion, the other to himself. But of both these, he that was deliuered to the Lion liued.

CHAP. XXIII.

HEe had not this vice eyther from his grandfather or his father:* 1.29 for if there were any other vertue in Philip it was this, that he was patient in all reproaches, which is a mightie instrument for the safetie of a Kingdome. Demochares, who for the libertie and pe∣tulancie of his tongue was called Parrhesiastes, came vnto him a∣mongst other Athenian Embassadours, and hauing courteously giuen audience to their Embassage, Philip said, Tell me if I may doe any thing that shall be gratefull to the Athenians. DEMOCHARES vndertoke the answer, and said, G••e and hang thy selfe. They that stood about him were displeased at so vnhumane an an∣swer, whom Philip commanded to be silent, willing them to dismisse that Thersi∣tes safe and sound. But you (saith he) the rest of the Embassadors, tell the Athenians that they are more proude that speake thus, then they that heare them spoken without re∣uenge. AVGVSTVS CAESAR spake, and did many things that were worthy memorie, whereby it appeareth that he was Master of his owne Anger. Timo∣gines the writer of Histories had spoken somwhat against himselfe, somewhat a∣gainst his whole family; neither lost he that which he had spoken, for an auda∣cious kind of jesting is the soonest entertained and divulged by euery man. Cae∣sar oft-times gaue him warning hereof, and wished him to vse his tongue more moderately, and seeing that he perseuered, he forbad him his house. After that Timagines liued till he was very olde, in Asinius Pollio's house, beloued of the whole Cittie, notwithstanding Caesars repulse, euery mans doores was open to him. Afterwards he recited and burned those Histories which he had written, and cast those bookes into the fire which contained the acts of Augustus Caesar: and thus waged he warre with Caesar. No man for all this refused his friendship, no man fled from him, as though he were blasted: there was alwayes that gaue him entertainment in the height of his disgraces. All these, as I said, Caesar en∣dured patiently, neyther was he moued therewith, notwithstanding that Tima∣gines had violated both his praises and actions. He neuer was displeased with him that entertained his enemie, this onely said he to POLLIO, Thou nourishest a beast; and when he addressed himselfe to giue him an answere, the Emperour preuented him, and said, He is at thy command POLLIO, much good do it thee with him. And when as Pollio said, If thou commandest me CAESAR, I will presently for∣bid him my house. What said he, thinkest thou? I will doe this, who haue reconciled both of you and made you friends? For Pollio in times past had beene angrie with Tima∣gines; neyther had he any other cause of dislike towards him, but because Caesar had entertained him.

CHAP. XXIIII.

* 1.30LEt euery man therefore say vnto himselfe as often as he is prouo∣ked, Am I more powerfull then Philip? yet he patiently suffered disgraces without reuenging them. Can I doe more in my pri∣uate house then Diuus Caesar thorow the whole world? yet was he content to locke vp his gates against him that had slandered him. Or why should I for a bolde and jesting answer, a proude looke, or the grumb∣ling and vntowardnesse of my slaue, expiate his fault with whips and fetters? Who am I that no man dare offend mine eares? Many haue pardoned their e∣nemies, shall not I pardon such as are sluggish, negligent, and branglers? Let age excuse a childe, her sex a woman, libertie a stranger, familiaritie a domestick. He offended me but euen now. Let vs bethinke our selues how often he hath contented vs; But oft-times hath he offended otherwise? Let vs endure that which we haue suffered long. He was my friend: he did that which he preten∣ded not. Is he an enemie? He did that which he ought to doe. Shall we endure a wise-man? let vs pardon a foole. Whatsoeuer befalleth vs, let vs say vnto our selues, that the wisest commit many errours, and that no man is so circumspect whom Anger doth not sometimes take tardie: none so mature and stayed, ey∣ther in his wordes or actions, whose grauity may by fortune be drawne into some inconsiderate action: no man so fearefull to offend, that whilst he flyeth from offences, falleth not into them.

CHAP. XXV.

* 1.31EVen as a poore man taketh comfort in his miserie, when he seeth other great mens fortune stagger, and with a more temperate minde hath bewayled his sonnes death in a corner of his cham∣ber, who seeth the wofull funerals of the heire of a Kingdome solemnized and borne forth; so with a more peaceable and con∣tented minde shall he endure to be harmed and contemned by another man, whosoeuer bethinketh himselfe that there is no Potentate so great, who is not, or may not be attempted with iniurie. And if the most wisest doe offend, let vs thin••e with our selues that there is no fault which is not excusable. Let vs con∣sider how oftentimes our yong yeares haue beene scarce diligent in performing dueties, immoderate in speech, scarce temperate in wine: if he be angry, let vs giue him tim•• wherein he may consider what he hath done, and hee himselfe will reproue himselfe; in conclusion, hee will punish himselfe, yet for all this must not we be angrie. This is vndoubtedly true, that he hath exempted him∣selfe from common men, and raised himselfe to a higher degree, that despiseth such as prouoke him. For it is the propertie of true magnitude, not to feele that he is strooken. So hath a furious beast, stalking a long with a setled pace looked backe on those Dogs that barked at him. So doe the enraged billowes of the Sea insult in vaine against an immoueable rocke. He that is not angry hath neuer beene shaken by iniurie, he that is angrie is moued: but he whom for the present I haue mounted aboue all incommoditie, with a certaine embrace en∣tertaineth the chiefest good, being equall not onely to himselfe, but also to for∣tune. Whatsoeuer thou doest, thou art not great enough to obscure the bright∣nesse

that enlightneth me. Reason to whom I haue assigned the conduct of my life, defendeth the same. The Anger will hurt me more then the offence; and why? Because there is a certaine measure in the offence, but I know not how farre mine Anger will transport me.

CHAP. XXVI.

BVt,* 1.32 sayest thou, I can endure nothing, it is a grieuous matter to me to sustaine an iniurie. Thou liest: for who cannot endure iniury that can suffer Anger? Furthermore, thou pretendest to charge thy selfe with iniury and Anger both at once. Why sufferest thou the cries of a sicke man, the strange speeches of a lunatick, and the stroakes of thy little children? Forsooth because they seeme to be ignorant of what they doe. What skilleth it by what errour any man becommeth impru∣dent, since imprudence is an equall excuse for all those that are attainted there∣with? What then, sayest thou, shall he remain vnpunished? Thinke that thou wouldest, yet it shall not be so: for the greatest chastisement that a man may re∣ceiue who hath outraged another, is, to haue done the outrage, and there is no man that is so rudely punished, as he that is subiect to the whip of his owne re∣pentance. Moreouer, it behooueth vs to regard and consider the condition of humane affaires, to the end we may be vpright Iudges of all accidents. But he is vniust who vpbraideth a priuate man with that imperfection which is com∣mon to all. If a man be blacke amongst the Moores, or hath a redde head, and curled after the manner of the Almaines; this is no dishonour to him, but be∣commeth him well. That which is common to a whole nation, defameth not a particular: but those things that I haue set downe before, depend but on the custome of one countrey, which is but a little corner of the earth. Consider therefore whether it be not an easier matter to excuse it, which is the practise of the whole world. We are all of vs inconsiderate and improuident, all of vs vncertaine, irresolute, and ambitious. But why hide I a publique vlcer vnder milder wordes? We are all of vs noughts. Whatsoeuer therefore is reprehen∣ded in another, that shall euery man finde within his owne bosome. Why ob∣seruest thou his bleakenesse of colour, his leanenesse of bodie? It is a common plague. Let vs therefore be more temperate one towards another, we liue euill men amongst euill men: there is one thing onely that can make vs quiet; a mu∣tuall facilitie in conuersation. This man hath now iniured me, but as yet I haue not harmed him; yet now perhaps hast thou hurt some bodie, or at leastwise thou wilt hurt.

CHAP. XXVII.

EStimate not this houre or this day,* 1.33 looke into the whole habite of thy minde, if as yet thou hast done no euill, yet canst thou doe it. How farre better is it that an iniurie should be salued then reuen∣ged? Reuenge consumeth much time, exposeth her selfe to many iniuries whilst she is stung with one. Wee are all of vs more long time angrie then we are hurt; how farre better is it to take another course, and not in this sort to sort vices together? Should a man be thought well in his wits

if he should kicke at a Moyle with his heeles that had strooken him, or teare a Dogge with his teeth that had bitten him? These, sayest thou, know not that they offend. First of all, how vniust is he who is displeased when men come vnto him to reconcile themselues? Againe, if it restraine thee from being an∣grie with beasts, because they are destitute of reason; in the same ranke num∣ber him that doth something without iudgement: for what skilleth it if he re∣semble not beasts in any other thing, in the fault which excuseth beasts, hee sheweth himselfe as brutish as they be? He hath offended; for this is the first and this is the last. Thou hast no cause to beleeue him, although he saith, I will not doe it againe. Thou shalt see that he will once more offend thee, and ano∣ther him, and the whole course of life shall be trauailed with errours: we must handle sauage things courteously. That which is wont to be said in sorrow, may effectually be spoken likewise in Anger. Whether wilt thou giue ouer once or neuer? If once, it is better to leaue off Anger, then to be left by Anger: but if this fault shall alwayes continue, thou seest how vnquiet a life thou de∣nouncest to thy selfe, as it befalleth him who is alwayes swolne vp, and incensed by wrath.

CHAP. XXVIII.

* 1.34FVrthermore, if thou thy selfe seeke not the occasions and meanes to prouoke thine Anger, and if thou enkindlest not thy displea∣sure, thou shalt see it depart from thee of her owne motion, and time will weaken it daily. How farre better is it for thee that thou shouldest surmount her, then that she should be Mistresse of thee? Thou art angry now with this man, now with that man, now with thy slaues, anon after with thy francklins, now with thy father or mother, now with thy children, with those of thine acquaintance, then with such as thou hast but newly met withall: for the occasions present themselues in euery place, except a peaceable minde containe and gouerne vs. Furie will driue thee hither and thither, and as new prouocations shall arise, thy rage shall be continued. Goe to vnhappy man and when is it that thou wilt loue? O how good time loosest thou in so bad a thing? How farre better were it now to get thee friends, and to mittigate thine enemies, to gouerne the Common weale, to transfer thy in∣deuours to the gouernement of thy familie, then to looke about thee what in∣iurie thou mayest doe another man. What wound thou mayest inflict eyther on his dignitie, or his patrimony, or his body? When as this cannot befall thee without contention and danger, although thou encounter with thine inferiour. Although thou see him tyed hand and foote, and that he be in thy power to do with him whatsoeuer thou pleasest, oftentimes it hath beene seene that a man in striking another with all his force, hath put his shoulder out of ioynt, or his arme, or hand, or else in biting hath broken his teeth, and spoyled his gummes. Anger hath made many men lame, and hath weakened many; yea, euen then when she hath gotten matter of patience. Adde hereunto, that there is not any thing so feeble in this world,* 1.35 that perishes without putting him in danger that would crush or breake it. Sometimes griefe, and sometimes casualty hath mat∣ched the strongest with the weakest. And which is more, the most part of those things which moue vs, doe harme vs more then we hurt other men. But there is a great difference whether a man oppose himselfe against my pleasure,

or whether he hinder it not, whether he take it from me, or giue it me not. But we account it all one whether a man take from vs any thing or denie vs; whe∣ther he cut of our hopes, or differ them: whether hee be against vs, or for him selfe; whether for the loue of another man, or the hatred he beareth vs: But some haue not only just, but also honest causes to stand against vs. The one de∣fendeth his ••ather, the other his brother, another his vncle, the third his friend. Yet pardon we not those that doe these thinges, which should they not doe; we would condemne them: nay more which is incredible, oftimes we allow of the deed, but condemne the doer.

CHAP. XXIX

BVT yet assuredly euery great and just man affectioneth and wel respecteth him amongst his enemies;* 1.36 that most valiantly and aduenturously behaueth himselfe, for the libertie and conser∣uation of his Countrie, and wisheth himselfe such a Citizen and such a Camerado as that is in his dangers. It is a shamefull thing to hate him whom thou praysest•• but how farre more shamefull to hate any man, for that for which he is worthie of mercie: if any one being taken priso∣soner, retaineth as yet some remanders of his libertie, and sheweth not himselfe so readie in base and troublesome businesses, if hauing thorow idlenesse gathe∣red so much fat, that he cannot come so swiftly as his Masters horse or coach: if wearied with all dayes trauaile he sleepe; if he refuseth to labour in the fieldes or doth not bestow himselfe so, as a stout pesant should doe; by reason hee had liued in a Citie, where he had much ease, and that now he is tyed to a businesse that is tedious and continual, let vs consider whether he cannot doe that which we would require at his hands, or if he will not doe it: wee shall beare with di∣uers men; if wee indeuour our selues to judge before we be displeased. But now we beleeue that which the first assault of our passion buzzeth in our ••ares; after∣wardes although wee b••e mooued vpon no ground: yet pers••uer we least wee should seeme to haue begunne without any cause, and that which is most dam∣nable, the iniquitie of wrath maketh vs more obstinate. For wee nourish and increase the same as if it were an argument of just Anger, to bee grieuously an∣grie. How farre better is it to examine the beginnings, and to consider how harmelesse? That which thou seest fall out in bruit beasts, the same shalt thou discouer in man, we are troubled with friuolous and vaine things.

CHAP. XXX.

A Red colour exasperateth Bulles,* 1.37 the Aspe is inkindled in the sha∣dow, a white Cloath prouoketh Beares and Lions. All thinges that nature hath made fierce and dreadfull are astonished at a little matter. The same befalleth disquiet and foolish mindes. They are strooken with suspition of thinges, and in such sort as some times they call moderate benefits injuries, in which the most frequent, but the most, yet truly the most vrgent causes of choler consist. For we are angrie with our dearest friends, because they haue done vs lesse courtesie then we expected, then

other men haue done vs; when as there is a present and readie remedie for them both. Hath he fauoured another man more? let vs delight our selues with ours without comparison: he shall neuer be happie, that tormenteth himselfe at an other mans felicitie. I haue lesse then I hoped for? But happily I haue hoped more then I ought. This part is most of all to be feared. Hence arise most dan∣gerous displeasures, and such as inuade the most holiest and blessedest thinges of the World. Iulius Caesar was killed by a greater number of his friends, then of his enemies: whose immeasurable hopes he had not satisfied. Such was his in∣tention, neither euer was there any man that carried himselfe more better, or more liberally, when hee became Master of his enemies, for hee challenged no∣thing to himselfe, but the power to distribute; but here could he satisfie so many importunate desires, when as all men desired so much as one man could? Hee saw therefore with naked daggers, those followers of his about his throne; and amongst the rest Tullius Cimber, who before time had beene an affectionate par∣taker of his, and those other, who after the death of Pompey were become Pom∣peians.

CHAP. XXXI.

* 1.38THis verie passion hath raysed the subjects against their Prince, and vrged the most faithfull to conspire the death of those, for whom and in whose presence, they had desired in times past to loose their liues. He that hath respect to another mans good, neg∣lecteth his owne. And thereupon wee are angrie with the gods likewise, because some one man out-strippeth vs, forgetting our selues how much and how important enuie followeth them at their backes, yet so great is the importunitie of men, that although they haue receiued much, yet suppose themselues to be indignified, because in their iudgement•••• they are capable of more. Gaue he me a Praetor-ship? but I looked for a Consul-ship. Gau•• they me twelue Maces? yet they made mee not an ordinarie Consull. Would hee haue me to vndertake the charge of numbring the yeare? but he failed mee in the election, when I sought for the Pontificiall dignitie. Haue I beene brought into the Colledge of Bishops and Augures? but why in companie? Hath hee consumated my dignitie? but he hath allowed nothing towardes my charge and patrimonie: Hee gaue mee that which he ought to haue giuen to an other, he added nothing of his owne. Rather giue thankes for those thinges which thou hast receiued, exspect the rest, and rejoyce, because that as yet thou art not full. Amongst all other pleasures, it is no small one, to see that there is somewhat remayning, for which thou maist hope. Hast thou sped better then any other? rejoyce, because thou art the first amongst others that hath thy friendes heart. Doe many exceede thee? consider that the number of those that march after thee, surpasseth those whom thou followest.

CHAP. XXXII.

ASkest thou me what is the greatest vice in thee?* 1.39 thou forgest false considerations, thou highly prizest thine owne gi••tes, and neg∣lectest others. Let one thing deter vs in an other. Let vs bee afraid to be angrie with some for reuerence sake, let vs forbeare other, and for pittie sake endure other some. Vndoubtedly we shall performe a goodly peece of worke, if we shut our vnhappie slaue in prison. Why are we so ha••tie to beat him: and so sudden to breake his legges? this power will not be lost, if it bee deferred. Let that time come wherein wee may be Masters of our selues. Now speake wee out of passion: when shee is quailed, then shall wee see how weightie this debate is. For in this especially are wee deceiued. Wee come to knifes, to capitall punishments: and by bonds, imprisonment, and fa∣mine, we reuenge the crime which should be chastised by whipping and sligh∣ter punishments. How (saist thou) commandest thou vs to consider, how all those things, whereby we seeme to be harmed, are trifling, miserable, and chil∣dish? But I for mine own part would perswade nothing more then to take vpon vs a great minde, and to examie and see how these things for which we quarrell runne and sweat, after how humble and abject they bee, and such as are not to bee respected and thought vpon by any man, that thinketh on any high or magnificent matter. There is much brabling about monie, shee wearieth the Courts of Pleas, shee sets the fathers and children together by the eares, shee mixeth venomes, she deliuereth swords as well into the hands of the executio∣ner, as of the souldier, she it is that is embrewed with our bloud. For her are the marriage beds of man and wife filled with brawles, for her the Tribunals of Majestrates are ouer-pressed with throng•• Kings are inraged and ransack coun∣tries, and ouerthrow Cities, which were builded by the labour of ma••y ••ges, to the end that Golde and Siluer might bee sought out in the ashes of the Citie.

CHAP. XXXIII.

IT pleaseth me to behold those caskets of monie that lie heaped in a corner.* 1.40 These are they for which men weepe out their eyes, for which the iudgement•• Hals are confused with mutte∣ring, for which Iudges being nominated out of remote Coun∣tries sit in iudgment to sentence whether of both parties a••arice is most just. What if it bee not for a bag or casket of moni••, but for a handfull of siluer, or for a pennie borrowed or lent to a mans slaue, an old man without hei••es and readie to die, is readie to burst with Anger•• what if for lesse then the thousand part of a mans interest, a sickly Vsurer with crooked limmes and lame hands only left him to number his monie, crieth out and in the very violence of his accessions, cryeth out for monie to his suerties•• If thou bring me forth whatsoeuer mony that is curran•• and vsuall in all kind of mettals, if thou cast before me whatsoeuer treasure, which auarice would burie againe•• after she had digged it vp, I thinke that all this heape is not worthie to furrow vp the brow of a good man. How much are they to be laughed at, for which wee spend so many teares?

CHAP. XXXIIII.

PRosecute the rest somewhat further I pray thee, and consider the eating and drinking, and all that proud equipage that depen∣deth there vpon, so many labours to keepe the house cleane, so many stroakes giuen, so many outragious speeches, and so many vnseemely countenances, suspitions restie Iades, Idle slaues, wic∣ked reporters of other mens words: for from all these it commeth that in the end some thinke that nature hath done men wrong, in giuing them the facultie of speaking. Beleeue mee wee are bitterly angrie for such slight things, and for which children are wont to be froward, and to scrath one another. There is nothing serious or great in all that which we doe with so much care & thought. Thence groweth your Choler & Furie because you esteeme these things great which are nothing. Such a one would haue taken away my goodes, that man hauing long time had a good opinion of me, hath finally defamed me, this man would haue corupted my minion. That which should bee the linke of lou•• which is to will one thing, is the cause of hatred and sedition.

CHAP. XXXV.

* 1.41THE way that is straight moueth quarrell amongst those that passe thorow it. That which is open and large is ouer narrow for Ar∣mies that encounter together. These thinges which you desire because they are small, neither can be transferred to one except they be taken from an other doe incite quarrels and troubles a∣mongst those that affect the same things. Thou art angrie if thy frackling or thy wife or thy retainer answer thee, & afterwards thou cōplainest that the cōmon-wealth hath lost all libertie, which thou thy selfe hast exterminated out of thine own house. Again if thou speak vnto thy seruant, and he answere thee not thou termest it disdaine and rebell••on. Thou wilt haue him speake, thou wilt haue him hold his peace, thou wilt haue him laugh, what before his Master saiest thou I before the Father of the family. Why criest thou? why chidest thou? what moueth thee in the midst of thy supper to cal for scourges; because thy seruants talke or because thy attendants are not seruiceble, or because no man answers thee? Hast thou no eares but to heare Musicke, and pleasing songs and wordes well fitted and pleasing? yet must thou heare men laugh, crie, flatter, pl••••d, tell joyfull and tragicall newes, and mens tongues and the cries of diuers Cre••tures. Poore man why art thou affrighted at thy seruant•• crie, at the ••inging of a Ba∣son, at the noice of a dore that is opened and locked? although thou bee so de∣licate, yet must thou heare the cracke of thunder. That which is spoken of the ••ares, may be transferred to the eyes, which are no le••••e troubled with objects when they are badly addressed: for they are offended at a ••pot, or soyle, or siluer plate badly clensed and their tinne platters; if they shine not at the sunne. For these eyes that are delighted with nothing but Marble and Iasper finely poli∣shed, that like no table except it be of costly wood, and well carued, which will not fix themselues in the house, except on these things that are g••ilded and em∣bossed; without dores with content enough, behold the rugged and durtie waies

and the most part of those that meet with them badly clothed, and the walles of Cities halfe ••aten away, ruined and vnequall.

CHAP. XXXVI.

WHat is the cause then why that which offendeth them not a∣broad,* 1.42 chafeth and troubleth them thus in their houses, but an equitable and patient opinion in publicke, but a crabbish and quarrelsome disposition at home? All our sences are to bee brought to a conformitie. By nature we are patient, if our mind cease to corrupt them, which is daily to be drawne vnto an accompt. This did Sextius, that when the day was spent and he retired himselfe to rest, was wont to examine his minde after this maner. What in••irmitie in thee hast thou hea∣led this day. What vice hast thou resisted? In what part art thou bettered? An∣ger will cease and become more moderate, if she knowes that euerie day shee must appeare before a Iudge. What therefore is more laudable then this cu∣stome, to examine our daily actions? What sleepe followeth after this scrute∣nie? how quiet, pleasing, and free is it, when either the minde is praysed or ad∣monished, and being a watch-man and secret censor of himselfe, examineth his defects? I vse this power, and daily pleade before my selfe, when the candle is taken from me, and my wife holdeth her tongue, being priuie to my custome. I examine the whole day that is past, and ruminate vpon actions and wordes. I hide nothing from my selfe, I let slip nothing: For why should I ••eare any of mine errours, when as I may say: See thou doe this no more: for this time, I par∣don thee. In that dispute, thou speakest more rashly, see that hereafter thou contend not with such as are ignorant, they wil neuer learne, that neuer learned. Thou hast more freely admonished such a one then thou oughtest, and there∣fore thou hast not amended him but offended him. In regard of the rest, see not only whether it were true which thou spakest, or whether hee to whom it was spoken can endure to heare truth.

CHAP. XXXVII.

A Good man reioyceth when he is admonished,* 1.43 a wicked man can∣not brooke a reproouer. At a banquet some mens bitter jests and intemperate words haue touched thee to the quicke? Remember to auoyde the vulgar companie: after Wine mens words are too lauish, and they that are most sober in their discourses are scarce modest. Thou sawest thy friends displeased with the Porter of a Counsailers chamber, or some rich man because hee would not suffer him to enter, and thou thy selfe being angry for this cause growest in Choler with the cullion. Wilt thou therefore be angrie with a chained dogge, who when he hath barked much will bee pacified with a peece of bread? get farther off him•• and laugh. He that keepeth his Masters doore, and seeth the threshold besieged by a troop of soliciters, thinketh himselfe no small bug, and he that is the Client thinketh himselfe happie in his owne opinion, and beleeueth that so hard an accesse into the chamber is an euident testimonie•• that the Master of the same is a man of

great qualitie and a fauourite of Fortune. But hee remembreth not himselfe that the entrie of a Prison is as difficult likewise. Presume with thy selfe, that thou art to indure much. If a man bee cold in Winter; if hee vomit at Sea, if hee bee shaken in a Coach, shall hee maruell hereat? The mind•• is strong and may indure all that whereunto hee is repared. If thou hast beene seated in a place scarce answerable to thine honour, thou hast beene angrie with him that stood next thee, or with him that inuited thee, or with him that was preferred before thee, Foole as thou art, what matter is it, in what place thou art set at the table, a cushion cannot make thee more or lesse honest. Thou wert displea∣sed to see such a one, because hee spake euill of thy behauiour. Art thou at that point? by this reckoning then En••ius in whose poetrie thou art no wayes delighted, should hate thee, and Hortensius should denounce warre a∣gainst thee, and Cicero if thou shouldest mocke his verses, should be at ods with thee.

CHAP. XXXVIII.

* 1.44WHen thou suest for an office doest thou not peaceably entertaine those that giue their voyces to the election, although they no∣minate not thy selfe? Some man hath disgraced thee? what more then Diogenes the Stoicke was, who discoursing one day very ef∣fectually vpon the subject of Anger, was scornfully spit vpon by a froward yongman; this injurie entertained he both mildly and wisely. Truly (saith he) I am not Angrie, yet doubt I whether, I ought to be angrie. But our friend Cato demeaned himselfe better, whom as he pleaded a cause; Lentulus that fa∣ctious and seditious fellow in the time of our fore-fathers, hawking vp from the depth of his stomacke a thicke and filthie spittle, blew it right into the midst of his for-head. For in wiping his face he said no other thing but this. Truely LENTVLVS I will now maintaine it against all men that, they are deceiued, who say thou hast no mouth.

CHAP. XXXIX.

NOW my Nouatus we are alreadie instructed how to gouerne our mindes, if either they feele not wrath, or bee superiours ouer it. Let vs now see how we may temper other mens Ire, for not on∣ly desire we to be healthfull our selues, but to heale others. We dare not attempt to moderate and pacifie the first anger by per∣swasion: ••or ••he is deafe and mad: We wil giue her some time; remedies are best in the declination of fauours, neither will we attempt her when she is inflamed, and in furie, for feare least in striuing to quench, wee inkindle the same; the like will we doe in respect of other passions. Repose healeth the beginning of sick∣nesses. How much (saist thou) doth thy remedie profit, if it pacifie, Anger when of her selfe, she beginneth to be pleased? First it is the cause that it cea∣seth the sooner, then will it keepe her least she fall againe, and shall receiue the passion it selfe which he dare not pacifie it. It shal remoue all instruments of re∣uenge,

it shall faine displeasure, to the end that as a helper and companion in her sorrow, it may haue more authoritie to counsaile her, it shall coyne delayes, and whilst she seeketh greater punishments, deferre the present. It shall by all means giue rest and remission to furie, if she be more vehement it shall eyther induce shame or feare in her, against which she shall not be able to resist; if she be weake it shall inuent discourses, eyther gratefull or new, and winde her away with a desire of knowledge. It is reported that a Phisitian when he had a Kings daughter in cure, and could not performe the same without the meanes of a launcet, that whilst he gently handled her Pap that was greatly swolne, he con∣uayed his launcet into a spunge, and so opened it. The mayden had repined should he haue ministred the remedie openly, and shee because she suspected it not, suffered the paine.

CHAP. XL.

SOme things are not healed except they be deceiued. To one of these thou shalt say,* 1.45 Beware lest thy wrath be pleasing to thine enemie. To another, Take heed lest the greatnesse of thy minde, and thy reputed courage in all mens iudgement he brought in question. Truely I am displeased with him, and that beyond measure, yet must we stay our time, and we will be reuenged. Conceale thy dis∣pleasure a while whilst thon mayest, and we will pay him home double. But to checke him that is angrie, and to oppose thy selfe against him, is to cast oyle on the fire. Thou shalt attempt him diuers wayes, and after a friendly man∣ner, except happily it be so great a person, that thou mayest diminish his wrath, as Augustus Caesar did when he supped with Vedius Pollio; one of the seruants had broken a crystall glasse, whom Vedius commanded to be carried away, and to be p••nished by no ordinary death: for he commanded him to be thrown a∣mongst his Lampries, which were in kept a great Fish-pond. Who could other∣wise thinke but that he did it to entertaine his excessiue pleasures? The boy escaped out of their hands, and fled to Caesars feet, desiring nothing else but that he might die otherwise, and not be made meate for Fishes. Caesar was moued with the noueltie of the crueltie, and commanded him to be carried away, yet willed that all the crystall vessels should be broken in his presence, and that the Fish-pond should be filled vp. So thought Caesar good to chastice his friend, and well did he vse his power. Commandest thou me to be dragged from the ban∣quet, and to be tortured by new kinds of pnnishment? If thy cup be broken shal mens bowels be rent in pieces? Wilt thou please thy selfe so much as to com∣mand any man to death where Caesar is present?

CHAP. XLI.

THus ought we to oppose our selues against a powerfull person, to the end that from a more eminent place a man may assaile a wrath that is intractable,* 1.46 and such a one as this whereof I lately tolde you, fierce, cruell, bloudie, which could not now receiue a∣ny cure, but by the feare of a thing more greater then it selfe. Let vs giue repose vnto our mindes, which we shall doe if we dilate continually

vpon the precepts of wisedome, and the acts of vertue, and likewise whilst our thoughts desire nothing but that which is honest. Let vs satisfie our conscience, let vs doe nothing for vaine glorie sake, let thy fortune be euill, so thine actions be good. But the world admireth those that attempt mightie matters, and au∣dacious men, are reputed honourable, and peaceable are esteemed sluggards. It may be vpon the first sight, but as soone as a well-gouerned life sheweth that it proceedeth not from the weakenesse, but the moderation of the mind, the peo∣ple regard and reuerence them. So then this cruell and bloudie passion is not profitable in any sort; but contrariwise, all euils, fire, and bloud feede her, shee treadeth all modestie vnder foote, embrueth her hands with infinite murthers; she it is that teareth children in sunder, and scattereth their limmes here and there; she hath left no place voyde of hainous villeynies, neither respecting glo∣rie nor fearing infamie; incurable, when of wrath she is hardned and conuerted into hatred.

CHAP. XLII.

* 1.47LEt vs abstaine wholy from this vice, let vs purge our mind and pull vp those passions that are rooted in it, whose hold-fast be it neuer so little, will spring againe wheresoeuer it is fastened; and let vs not onely moderate our Anger, but wholly root it out, and driue it from vs. For what temper is there in an euill thing? But wee may, if so be we will endeuour; neyther will any thing profite vs more then the thought of mortality. Let euery one say vnto himselfe, as if it were vnto a∣nother, What helpeth it vs, as if we were borne to liue euer, to proclaime our hatreds, and mispend so short a life? What profiteth vs to transfer those dayes which we might spend in honest pleasure, in plotting another mans miserie and torment? These things of so short continuance would not be hazarded, ney∣ther haue we any leasure to loose time. Why rush we forward to fight? Why beget we quarrels against our selues? Why being forgetfull of our weakenesse, embrace we excessiue ••atreds? And being readie to breake, our selues rise vp to breake others. It will not be long but eyther a feauor, or some other infir∣mitie of the bodie will preuent these hatreds which we hatch in our implacable mindes. Behold death at hand, that will part these two mortall enemies. Why tempest we? why so seditiously trouble we our life? Death hangeth ouer our heads, and daily more and more layes holde on him that is dying. That very time which thou destinatest to another mans death, shall be the neerest to thine owne.

CHAP. XLIII.

* 1.48WHy ra••her makest thou not vse of this short time of thy life, by making it peaceable both to thy selfe and others? Why rather endeerest thou not thy selfe in all mens loue whilst thou liuest, to the end that when thou diest thy losse may be lamented? And why desirest thou to put him lower, whose authoritie is too great for thee to contend against. VVhy seeekest thou to crush and terrifie that base and contemptible fellow that barketh at thee, and who is so bitter and

troublesome to his superiors? Why frettest thou at thy seruant? thy Lord? thy King? Why art thou angry with thy clyent? Beare with him a little, behold death is at hand which shall make vs equals. We were wont to laugh (in behol∣ding the combats which are performed on the sands in the morning) to marke the conflict of the Bull and Beare when they are tied one to another, which af∣ter they haue tyred one another, the Butcher attendeth for them both to driue them to the slaughter-house. The like doe we; we challenge him that is cou∣pled with vs, we charge him on euery side, mean while both the conquered and the conquerour are nee••e vnto their ruine. Rather let vs finish that little re∣mainder of our life in quiet and peace, and let not our death be a pleasure to any man. Oft-times they that were together by the ••ares haue forsaken their strife, because that during their debate, some one hath cryed fire that was kindled in a neighbours house, and the enteruiew of a wilde beast hath diuided the thiefe and the merchant. We haue no leasure to wrestle with lesser euils, when grea∣ter feare appeareth. What haue we to doe with fighting and ambushes? Doest thou wish him with whom thou art displeased, any more then death? Although thou sayest nothing to him he shall die; thou loosest thy labour, thou wilt doe that which will be don••. I will not, sayest thou, forthwith kill him, but banish, disgrace, or punish him. I pardon him rather that desireth his enemie should be wounded, then scabbed; for this man is not onely badly but basely minded, whether it be that thou thinkest of death or any one more slight euill, there is but a very little di••ference betwixt the day of thy desire, vntill the punishment which such a one shall endure, or till the time thou shalt reioyce with an euil conscience at the miseries of another man: for euen now, while we drawe our breath we driue our spirit from vs. Whilst we are amongst men, let vs embrace humanitie, let vs be dreadfull or dangerous to no man; let vs contemne detri∣ments, iniuries, slaunders, and garboyles, and with great mindes suffer short incommodities, whilst we looke behinde vs, as they say, and turne our selues, beholde death doth presently attend vs.

Notes

• * 1.1

  To refraine wrath in such manner as wee o••••ht, we must lea••ne the na∣tures of men that are attain∣ted th••rewith.
• * 1.2

  That all ages, men, and people are attainted with Anger which may not be said by other passion••.
• * 1.3

  A liuely repre∣sentation of pub∣like furie.
• * 1.4

  He ••••geth a∣gainst Aristotle who maintai∣neth Ang••r, and sheweth the basenesse and villeiny thereof.
• * 1.5

  See Aristotle in the fourth booke of his mo∣rals•• chap. ••1.
• * 1.6

  The continuati∣on of this de∣scription, and a liuely represen∣tation of Anger.
• * 1.7

  How hur••full wrath is, and the th•••••• prin∣cipall remedies thereof.
• * 1.8

  The effec••s of true magnani∣mitie, approued by a fit compa∣rison.
• * 1.9

  How requisite mediocritie and temperance are in managing the affaires of this ••i••e, and intem∣perating and quieting the minde.
• * 1.10

  Noble obseruati∣ons for all men.
• * 1.11

  The fourth ex∣pedient agai••st Anger is neither to charge that minde or body to much.
• * 1.12

  The fifth expe∣dient is, the knowledge th••t we ought to haue of our selues and the infirmities of our mindes.
• * 1.13

  The sixth meanes to bridle Anger. Be not too cu∣rious.
• * 1.14

  A notable ex∣ample.
• * 1.15

  The seuenth meanes not to seeke out euill occasions, and if they profer them selues to repulse them.
• * 1.16

  The eighth meanes. Containe thine Anger inward∣ly, and shew it not outwardly.
• * 1.17

  Now by example expr••ss••th he the e••••ects of choler.
• * 1.18

  Herodot. lib. 3.
• * 1.19

  The second ex∣ample of Astia∣ges and Har∣pagus.
• * 1.20

  Two ••toicall and profane resoluti∣ons, touch not too neere these rockes, left they•• sinke thee.
• * 1.21

  Of the patience which is req••isit in aduersities.
• * 1.22

  The fourth ex∣ample of Zerxes and Pi∣thius, Herod and Plutarch.
• * 1.23

  Other examples taken out of the Roman histories.
• * 1.24

  Here continueth he the monster∣ous description of Caligula•••• cruelties.
• * 1.25

  The cause why he made menti∣on of Caligu∣la••s cruel••ies.
• * 1.26

  Cambyses br••∣tish rage.
• * 1.27

  He returneth to Caligula by his example to make Anger o∣dious, and to in∣kindle others t•• mercy, he shew∣eth the mide be∣hauiour of An∣tigenus.
• * 1.28

  This was Bac∣chus companion and the eldest amongst the Sa∣tires.
• * 1.29

  The second ex∣ample of great mildenesse and mercie.
• * 1.30

  What profite a man should take of the precedent examples, and what considera∣tions besides th•• we ought to an∣nex, the better to refrain Anger
• * 1.31

  A continuation of the profits we gather by the precedent consi∣deration.
• * 1.32

  A pertinent an∣swer to those that alledge that they can endure n••thing, for by this meanes they depriue them∣selues of that excellent happi∣nesse which cour∣tesie produceth.
• * 1.33

  How much the consideration of our weakenesse heartneth against Anger, which is the ninth means to refraine it.
• * 1.34

  The tenth means, not to seeke any occasi∣•••• of displeasure.
• * 1.35

  The eleuenth consideration, is, t••at we hurt our ••••••ues more th••n •••• doe our ene∣mies.
• * 1.36

  The twelf••, be∣ware to con••oūd t••y iudgment and hate not him whom thou praisest, and least of all him whose miserie requireth thine assistance.
• * 1.37

  The thirteenth, Except thou wilt become a beast be not moued at ••riuolous and vaine matte••s as they are accu∣stomed to doe that are ouer∣taken by Anger.
• * 1.38

  The fourtenth Haue m••re re∣spect to another m••ns good then to th••ne owne and neuer thinke that tho•• hast obtained to litle.
• * 1.39

  The fi••thteenth, to disg••st t••y wra••h a li••••le & take leas••ue to consider what command••ment the passion hath ouer ••h••e, and whereupon it is founded.
• * 1.40

  The sixteenth, That all our goods are not worth halfe the labour we imploy vpon them and the busie care to enioy them is a wretchles misery.
• * 1.41

  A more exact de∣scription of this n••ti•• of w••ath which is tormen∣ted at trifles and things of no mo∣ment.
• * 1.42

  The eighteenth, Giue ouer to corrupt thy senc••s and call thy minde euery day to a reckoning.
• * 1.43

  The nineteenth, That it is vnpos∣ble to continue in life except thou re••raine ••holer.
• * 1.44

  The twentieth and last to take profit by the ex∣amples of pa∣tience and m••••k∣nesse.
• * 1.45

  How by words well applyed, or by authority we may haue ouer men, wrath may be pacified.
• * 1.46

  Now addresseth he himselfe to exhortation, per∣swading vs ••o a∣uoyde ••urie.
• * 1.47

  The continuatiō of those pe••swa∣tions which are easi•• to be pra∣ctised, especially if we consider the sh••rt••es and in∣c••rtainty of our liues.
• * 1.48

  ••he con••lu••ion, wherein he d••s∣c••uereth sum∣marily the goods that proc••••d frō a pe••ceab••e life, & ••he c••••ls that are c••us••d by Anger.