The schoolemaster, or teacher of table philosophie A most pleasant and merie companion, wel worthy to be welcomed (for a dayly gheast) not onely to all mens boorde, to guyde them with moderate [and] holsome dyet: but also into euery mans companie at all tymes, to recreate their mindes, with honest mirth and delectable deuises: to sundrie pleasant purposes of pleasure and pastyme. Gathered out of diuers, the best approued auctours: and deuided into foure pithy and pleasant treatises, as it may appeare by the contentes.

The Schoolemaster, or Teacher of Table Philosophie. A most pleasant and merie com∣panion, wel worthy to be welcomed (for a dayly Gheast) not onely to all mens boorde, to guyde them with moderate & holsome dyet: but also into euery mans companie at all tymes, to recreate their mindes, with honest mirth and delectable deuises: to sundrie pleasant purposes of pleasure and pastyme. Gathered out of diuers, the best ap∣proued Auctours: and deuided into foure pithy and pleasant Treatises, as it may appeare by the contentes.

❧ Imprinted at London, by Richarde Jones: dwelling ouer∣agaynst S. Sepulchers Church without Newgate. 1576.

❧ The Printers preamble to al estates, for the friendly entertaynment of this Teacher of Table Philosophie.

YOu worthy wights, that hautie halles do hold, Whose tables sundrie states do dayly haunt: Giue leaue (my Lords) this Teacher may be bold To prease in place, and shew him selfe a flaunt, Amongst your merie gheasts of sere & sundry sort, To play his merie partes, in playn & pleasant sport.

What though his phrase, & stile be rudely framd, His fruits are furthering to your healthes auayle: To deale in dayly dyet, although he may be blamd, To tell his minde therin he doeth not fayle, To shew the diuers kinds, of euery meat and drinke Bread, broath, flesh, fish, or what you els can thinke.

Yea, more then this, he meaneth for to show Among the states your table round about Demeanour meet from hie vnto the low, For ech degree to teach he doeth not doubt: The Prince, the page, the Gentle and the slaue, To serue his proper turne example heere may haue.

Diuines perhaps, wyll hearken to his tale. The warlyke knight, the Squire, the souldier h••ld, The marchant eke that makes the merie sale. The lawier to that pleads the case for gold. The Ladie bright will heare when he doeth speak, The widow, wyfe, chyld, mayd, lame, blind, & weak,

His problemes fine, wil somwhat please you all, And queint demaundes, so pithie in ech poinct His iestes I knowe will please both great small And hit your veyne, and nick you on the ioinct What so you be, or where you do soiourne This pleasant pithy booke wyll surely serue your turne,

Then bid him welcome, Gentles all, and say: Come merie Gheast, come neare and sit thee down, Vndoe thy packe, show foorth we do thee pray Such newes as may vs mery make in field & town: Thus him to you I leaue, to see what he can show, For doubtlesse, I to ioy your mindes, this trauaile dyd bestow.

FINIS.

To the right worshipfull M. Alexander Nowell, Deane of the Cathedrall Churche of S. Paules in London, Grace and peace from God, &c.

RIght worshipful, hauing by chance happened on this Pamflet, comming vnto my hands both without name and orderly begin∣ning: I did not onely peruse it my self (accor∣ding to my simple skil) but shewed it also vnto some of my freends: of whose learning & Iudgement very many haue good opinion, and beeing therto sufficiently willing of my self, I was by them and others exhorted to publish the same in print, for that it seemed to containe nothing els but holesome diet, sauced with honest mirth and pleasant pastimes: and interlaced with pithy and effectual exam∣ples, tending vnto the aduaūcement of vertue and sup∣pression of vice, a fit meane to delight and recreate the weake, & specially the ouer weryed spirits of Studients. Now calling vnto my remembrance (which I cannot forget) the manifolde benefits & curtesies at all times by your worship bestowed on me & mine, aswel in callīg me (moste vnworthy) not a few times vnto your table, as otherwise, the least part wherof I am not able of my self to recōpence: my good wil not wanting, but mine abilitie fayling. I haue now presumed to offer this poore present vnto you, comming from an vnfained hart, partely the

trauaile of another man, but the testimony of my harty affection, hoping that your worship wil accept it in the better part, the rather because I haue perceiued you a∣mong other graue and waightie matters (aswel of Reli¦gion as otherwise) to solace your self and others at your Table, with seemly mirth in opportunities vttered, ac∣cording to the knowledge and capacitie of those your poore neighbours and others with whom your bourd is al∣waies furnished, either cōcerning the qualities of meats, or their vsages in forrain cōtries, to the great delectation of the hearers: To the which purpose, there is much mat∣ter set down in this present work, as also to other effect, wherein if there shalbe any thing founde, not conueni∣ent for your learned view and seuere Iudgement: I harte¦ly craue your worships pardon: protesting, that the same is not written for so graue eares, but desirous to please all sortes in honest delight: I thought it good not to leaue out any thing, but to admonish, that who so shall not so well like of some trifling tales of this book, in the fourth part, he may sufficiētly recreate himself in the other .iii. parts.

Thus much hauing been ouer bolde to vtter my minde vnto your worship, presuming vpon your accustomed hu∣manitie, there remaineth no more, but that I commend you vnto the tuition of the almightie: who alwaies keepe you and yours, and send you now a mery new yeer and ma∣ny, to his good pleasure and glory. Amen.

Your worships to commaunde.

This first booke of Table Philosophie sheweth the nature and qualitie of all manner meates, drinkes and sawces, that are vsed at meales.

ACcording to the saying of Macrobius. It were a very vn∣seemely thing that Philosophie which intreateth curi∣ously in bookes, of dueties, & behauiour at feastes, should be afearde to shew her self also at feastes: as who should say, shee would not auouch that in deedes, which shee professeth in words: Or that shee could keepe no meane or measure, who only prescri∣beth the meane and measure her self vnto al humane affaires. Nei∣ther do I now welcome her to my table to thintent shee should moderate herself, whose order of instruction is to teach all other, how to moderate and gouerne themselues. And shortly after in the same place he sayth, VVherfore, such a kinde of Philosophie, there is no goodman, no place, nor companie, that wyll exclude it, which so behaueth it self in euerie respect, that it seemeth to be necessarie in euerie place, as though it were vnlawfull it should be absent. Then forasmuch as moderate Philosophie ought to be present at the table and feastes of the wise, and learned: euerie goodman must vse the same, both for to profite & delight others. For as the same Macrobius writeth, our talke ought to be merie at the table, more poudred with pleasure the sauced with seueritie. And our communication at the boorde, as it ought to be faier with honestie: so must it be pleasant with delight. VVherfore, it is ge∣nerally expedient, that all table talke be either concerning the na∣ture & qualitie of the meates and drinkes wherof we feede, or of table questions wherwith we may be made merie and sturred vp to mirth at the boorde, or els touching them their condition, and manners with whom we meete at the table, or lastly of such meri∣ments and honest deuises wherwith we may be refreshed and de∣lighted at our meate. And for this cause I haue determined to in∣title this worke, The Schoolemaster or teacher of Table Philosophie, and haue diuided the same into foure seuerall partes. The Argu∣ments wherof, I haue thought good to set downe together before the whole worke, and afterwardes euerie Argument seuerally be∣fore eche booke whereto it belongeth.

❧ The Argument of the first booke, which is of naturall Philosophie.

The first booke treateth of the nature and qualitie of all manner of meates, drinkes, and sauces, that are vsed at meales.

The Argument of the second booke, which is morall Philosophie.

The second booke speaketh of the manners, bebauiour, and vsage of all such, with whom we may happen to be conuersaunt withall, aswell at the table, as all other times among companie.

The Argument of the thirde booke, and is of naturall Philosophie.

The third booke conteyneth certayne delectable and pleasaunt questions and pretie Problemes to be propounded for myrth among companie at all times, but most conueniently at the table.

The Argument of the fourth booke, and is of morall discourses.

The fourth booke, compriseth honest Iestes, delectable deuises and plea∣saunt purposes to be vsed among companie, for delight and recr••ation at all times, but especially at meale times at the table.

¶ The Teacher of Table Phylosophy, aswell Na∣turall as Morall.

The first Booke of Meates, Drinks, and Sauces.

Chap. 1. ¶Of conuenient time to eate meate, and how often a Man may eate according to his Complection.

NOw first of all, let vs see con∣cerninge the time and houre to eate, which were the most conueniēt: wherof Rhasis maketh mencion, saying, that it is best time to eate, when the weight of the meate which we eate last before is funck downwarde, and the bottome of the sto∣macke is become light, and there remaine no swelling nor fulnes, and a man haue moderatly exercised himself before, & hée haue a good appetite: then is it y^e best time to feade. More∣ouer, as the same aucthour saieth, a man must take héede that hée defer not to feade when his appetite serueth him, vnlesse it bée some counterfeit appetite, such as chaunceth sumtimes to Drunkards, and those that loath their meate. But so soone as one that is not drunke, beginneth to haue an appetite, and the nourishment which hée receiued before were not mutch nor grosse: then ought he to eate presently without all delay. But if hée deferre eating so longe vntill his appetite bée past which hée had before: then were it best for him to eate some of the Syrupe of Violets, or the Syrupe called Acetosus, or drinke warme water, and so to abstaine from eating vntil he haue vomited, or gone to stoole, or that his appetite begin to come againe. Likewise, the same aucthor in y^e same place sai∣eth farther. This is very diligently to be obserued, that euery man eate such meates as he hath binne accustomed vnto, and vse to féede as oft as hee hath binne woont, vnlesse this cu∣stome of his hath bin éeuell, and therfore ought to bee eschued

howbeit not suddenly, but by meanes, and by litle and litle. And a man must so dispose his feeding times, that hee eate twise beetwéene one day and a night, or at the most twise in one day, or, which is more temperate thrise in two dayes. As for those which haue leane and drie bodyes, it is hurtfull vnto them to eate but once in a day. And it is éeuell for sutch as haue grosse and fat bodies to eate twise in aday. Also those that do exercise themselues, and labour mutch, haue neede of meate of more grosse substaunce then those which vse con∣trary order, who require contrary meates.

The Commentarie writer Auerrois, vpon the Canticles of Auicen, saith thus: It is a more temperate and orderly cus∣tome for a man to féede twise in two daies. For some doo thinke that the perfection of the third digestion is accom∣plished in eightéene houres, in proportion whereof when we eate thrée refections the digestion thereof is finished in all partes of the body in that time, or much there aboute. And whereas I woulde haue eightéene houres béetwéene two meales: it is therby euident that the most conuenient time to eate, is when a man féeleth himselfe lightned, and hath ful∣ly digested the meat which hée eate before.

Chap. 2. Of Appetite, and custome to eate.

COncerning Appetite and custome to eate, Auicen writeth in the second part of his Canticles. Wherefore let a man féede according to the vse and custome of his owne nature, not omitting to eate those meats that are delectable. Vpon which place Auerrois writeth thus, in his Commentarie: Custome is likened vnto Nature, which is to say, Custome must néedes be obserued although it were éeuell, and not to bée commended. And wheras hée saith: Appetite is not to bée omitted, which is a precept of this Art: it is to be vnderstood in all meates whether they be desired for that they bee of their owne Nature commendable, or otherwise. And ther∣fore it is said, that of two sortes of meates that which is lesse

good and pleaseth more the Appetite: is better for vs, then that which is better and lesse pleaseth our fansie. Rhasis also vpon the fourth of Almansor saith: it chaunceth manie times, that some meates that are éeuell, are founde to agrée with some natures which cannot abstaine frō them as other some can. And perhaps some meates that are good, are perceiued not to agree with some mens stomackes, from which it were good for them to abstaine wholy. And if there bée some meats agréeing with some Natures which are desirous of them, al∣though they bee not good nor holsome: yet are they to bee yéelded vnto the Appetite, vnlesse they bee excéedinge eeuell▪ and a man must beware that hee vse not alwaies naugh∣tie nutriment.

Chap. 3. Of the order of Meales, and eating Meate.

THE cause why our Digestion is many times corrupt is this: because at one meale wée féede on sundrie sortes of Meates, eatinge the grosse béefore the fine, and fillinge our selues with sundry kinde of cates made with broathes thick∣ned with grated bread, and to to long protracting the tyme from the béeginning of the Meale to the ende. But for the better ordering of our diet, wée must note: that it is best in Winter to vse meates actually hot, and in Summer actually colde. Howbeit we must beware of Meates ouer hot as they come out of the pot, or from the fire, and take héede of them that are verye colde, as sutch as are cooled vpon the Snowe. Auicen in his Canticles saieth thus: that moyst and slipperie meates are to bee eaten beefore sutch as binde, and that which is swéete must bée mingled with that which is sower, and the dry corrected with the moyst, and the colde with the hot. And wheras we say that the moiste and liquid must be taken before the binding: that is a precept in the regiment and order of meate, for that it is required to the preseruation

of health, that the meate be measured in qualytie, quantytie, time, & order. Adding also vnto these conditions, y^t the Meate be good, and well dressed. Which rule is gathered of the con∣trarie, to wit, that one contrarie be brought to a iust tempe∣rature by his contrarie, as are the qualeties swéet by sower, drie by moist, cold by warmthe, and sutch like, aboue recited.

Chap. 4. Of a conuenient place to feede in.

ACcording to the aduertisement of Auicen in his Canticles, we ought to haue a speciall regard to the place wherin we féede, that it be quiet and colde, and through blowne with the winde, and that it be so at the time and houre when wee in∣tend to feede therin. And therfore in this poynt it behooueth a man to be dylygent. Auerrois the Commentarie writer sai∣eth, that we must looke to this most especially in Summer, because then erternall heat wéekeneth naturall heat, lyke as the shining of the Sunne putteth out the fire if it come to it, and yet when the fire is once come into the shadowe it reui∣ueth againe. And Rhasis in the place aboue recited, willeth vs to eate our meate at coole times, and if case we cannot get a colde place, yet to watch a colde time to féede in, and so after that we be refreshed we may sléepe, and take our rest.

Chap. 5. Of Meates and Drinkes, wheron wee feede at the Table.

HEreafter wée haue to intreate of such meats and drinkes as are for the most part vsed at the Table. And first of Bread, Rhasis writeth vpon the third Booke of Almansor, say∣inge: Breade that is made of Wheat is in many respectes most conuenient f••r men, especially if it be wel seasoned, wel leauened, well ••aked, fine ground, & purely clensed, although it be then sumwhat hard of concoction. And Auicen sheweth the cause why it is so: saying that the better it is boulted the easier it is of disgestion, and so m••tch the harder how mutch

the more it is ful of Bran. And the cause is: for that the bran hindreth the passedge, and the slipperinesse of the voydinge of it. And that is the best bread whiche is baked in an Ouen, temperatly seasoned and leauened, and made light, that when it is cut it be hollow like a spunge. Moreouer Rhasis in the place before alleadged, affirmeth y^e vnleauened bread is hard to disgest, and discendeth slowly out of the stomack, causinge griping in the bellie, obstruction in the liuer, and procureth grief in th•• kidneis. Hée saith also that Barlie bread is colder then Wheaten, of small nutriment ingendring windynesse, the collick, and other colde diseases, & maketh a man costiffe. The bread of other kinds of graine is of qualitie according to the nature of the graine of which it is made. Auicen saith, let no Man eate Bread while it is hot, but when it is one night olde.

Chap. 6. Of Wine, and the qualyties thereof.

WYne, as Isaac sayeth in the thirde booke of dietes, causeth good nutriment, bringeth health to the body, and preser∣ueth the same. And there is no drink nor meate to be founde so comfortable vnto naturall heate, by reason of a certen fa∣myliaritie with it, for naturally it strengthneth disgestion. The heate therof is lyke vnto naturall heate, and therfore it is soone conuerted into naturall and most pure bloud. It cla∣ryfieth thick bloud, serching the passadges of the whole body, but specially of the veines, and clenseth them, it openeth the Liuer, it taketh away darke smokinesse whiche ingendereth heauinesse, repelling the same from the hart, it comforteth al parts of the body, it causeth the minde to forget sorow and griefe, it bringeth mirth, it maketh hardie, it sharpneth the wit. Wherfore it is conuenient for all ages, all seasons, all cuntreis, being receaued according to y^e custome of him that drinketh the Wine, as so much his nature is able to beare. Thus is it manifest, that Wine is good for all men if they

take it moderatly. And therefore in ould times, Wine was likened vnto the great triacle, and to the Nature therof. For it heateth colde bodies, and cooleth hot, it moistneth the drie, and drieth the moist. And many times it quencheth the thirst more then water. Rhasis in the fore alleaged place of his third booke, saith thus: Wine generally heateth the stomack, and liuer, making passedge for the nutriment, it also increa∣seth blood, and fleash, and augmenteth naturall heate, helping nature to accomplish her peculiar functions. By Wine di∣gestion beecommeth stronger, superfluities are expulsed, and the passedge made easie for their riddance. By wine health is permanēt, and strength abideth, & oldage kept away. Wine also maketh the soule merie, but if it bée immoderatly taken it hurteth the Liuer, braine, and Sinewes, it breadeth the Trembling, the Palsie, and Apoplexie, and bringeth suddein death.

Chap. 7. Of Meade, and the properties therof.

THe drinke which is made of Honie cōmonly called Meade, by the auctorytie of Rhasis is verie hot, ingendring redde Choler. It agreeth not with hot complexions, but it is verie conuenient for colde temperatures. Auerrois also vpon the Canticles of Auicen, saith, that Mead is better then wine, for sutch as haue naturall féeble sinewes.

Chap. 8. Of strong or double Ale.

DOuble Ale saith Rhasis, in the place aboue recited, & chief∣ly which is made of Barly, hurteth the sinewes, maketh the head to ake, filleth the bodie with winde, but it prouoketh vrine, and represseth the heate which cummeth of drunken∣nesse. But that Ale which is made of wheate, hauinge in it Mintes and Smaledge, well burned▪ is supposed to bée better for all men, but especially it is forbidden them that are hot in the Sun and conuersant abroade, and of hot disposition, and in an hot time of the yéere.

Chap. 9. Of fleash in generall.

IT is confirmed by the auctority of Rhasis in the place before alleaged, that of all nutriments Fleash nourisheth most soonest, fatteth, and strengthneth. And those that vse it mutch: haue full bodies, and haue néede to bée let blood often, and spe∣cially if they drinke wine with it. Generally, all fleash hea∣teth, and is counted vnméete for those that haue an Ague, and are troubled with replecion. Fleash that is red without fat: nourisheth more then that which hath fat, for it ingendreth lesse superfluitie, and strengthneth the stomack more. Course fleash which is of grosse substance is fit for sutch as laboure, and fine fleash for those that vse small exercise.

Chap. 10. Of the fleash of wilde beastes.

EVerie beast generally, according to the diuision of Isaac in his third booke of Dietes, is either wilde, or tame. The Fleash of wilde beasts is drie, and hard of digestion, and yéel∣deth discommendable iuce by reason of their ouermutch mo∣tion and exercise which they vse, and the heat and drieth of y^e aire wherin they abide, hapning through the vehement heat of the Sun, and lacke of couert from the parching Sun bea∣mes. So that wilde fleash is of no good Nutriment, neither in qualitie nor quantitie, sauinge onely the fleash of wilde Goates. For their naturall coldnesse is mutch repressed by the ouermutch heate and drieth, wherto they do accustome themselues. Wherfore, seinge also that the tast and vnsaue∣rie smell of their fleash is corrected by their exercise: it is some helpe vnto digestion, that their fleash may be very wel and easely concocted. Al other tame beasts in comparison to y^e wilde: are better to bée liked of, & do more nourish, by reason of their quietnes, & the temperate aire, yet are thei sumdeale grosse & hard of digestion. And among these in my iudgment, the Male beast is hotter & in different moist aboue y^e female, and is therfore more commended and y^e sooner digested. The fleash of the female, is more colde with immoderate moy∣sture, and therfore slower of digestion. And y^e fleash of those beasts that are gelded is of a middle nature betwéene both.

Chap. 11. Of Kiddes fleash.

AGaine, in the place of Rhasis by mée erewhile alleaged, it is writen of Kiddes fleash, that it is temperate, hauinge no éeuel quality mixt with it, which albeit it ingender temperat blood: yet is it not conuenient for labourers. As for sutch as take no great paine, but liue a gentlemans lyfe: they cannot chuse a better kinde of meate then this. For it is not altoge∣ther so easie of concoction that it destroieth the disgestion, nei∣ther yet yéeldeth it so grosse or sutch plenty of nutriment that the body be therby filled with replection, and corrupte bloud ingendred. But the bloud that is made thereof, is betwéene both, as neither thick nor thin: hot nor colde. In the same place also Isaac saieth, that the sucking Kiddes are the best, of al other most excellent both for tast, nourishment, and disges∣tion, ingendring good bloud, for the milke which they suck of their Dāmes giueth vnto them naturall moisture.

Chap. 12. Of Lambe.

LAmbes fleash also, as saith y^e same mine aucthor Isaac in the place often before alleaged, is good while they suck, by rea∣son of the stoare of moisture & slimines: yet the superfluity of fleame which it ingendereth wherby it slippeth foorth of the stomack before it be fully concocted: maketh it sumwhat fau∣tie. Howbeit Auerrois in the fifte of his Collections setteth downe, how that most conuenient it is that Lambes Fleash be placed in goodnesse next vnto Kiddes Fleash, whiche al∣though it haue mutch superfluity: yet is it of a moderate, and commendable temperature.

Chap. 13. Of Rammes fleash.

TOuching the Fleash of Rammes, Rhasis in the place before alleaged is of opinion, that it is groser then Kiddes Flesh, and increaseth more the strength of Man, yéelding mutch more superfluitie then Kiddes Fleash doth. Young Rammes

of one yéere olde are better then Lambs or Ewes, for if their fleashe bée well digested it ingendreth plentie of blood, and that good, specially if it bée Weathers fleash, for the heate and moisture of it is temperate which causeth the fleash to haue a very good tast. But Galen the prince of Phisitions, as Auerrois reporteth of him in the fift of his collections, mislyketh the fleash of weathers, and commendeth Veale excéedingly.

Cap. 14. Of Veale.

NExt insueth to intreate of Veale, which according to the iudgment of Auerrois is good and holsome, as not hauing that sliminesse and coldenesse which is in Béefe, and is more swéete both to the mouth and nose, then any other fleash. And in this respect it is better then Kid. But againe, kid is better then Veale bicause it ingendreth better humours. And mine aucthour Isaac in the place often aboue rehearsed, saith: Béefe ingendreth grosse blood, troubled, and Melancholike, yéeldeth mutch nutriment hard of digestion, and painfully ouercome by the stomack, and difficulti dissolued into the partes of the bodie, and it bindeth the belly. And if a man that is of a Me∣lancholik complexion, vse to eate béefe: hée shalbe gréeued with the Spléene, fall into a quartaine Feuer, and come into a Dropsie. Also hée shall ware itchie, haue the Morfewe, Le∣prosie, Canker, ringewoormes, according to the complexion of him which agreeth fit with this meate.

Chap. 15. Of Swines fleash.

AFter the iudgment of Auicen, Swinesfleash is more na∣turall vnto men then the fleash of any other liuing thing on the ground, which experience it self declareth according to Auerrois, in the fift of his Collections. And Isaac also in the woork aboue named, writeth that Swinesfleash is colder and moister then the fleash of any other beast, especially if it bée of a tame Swine. For wilde swinesfleash in comparison of tame Swinesfleash, is hot and drie, and nourisheth lesse. Yet is it best to fáede on tame swinesfleash but seldome, and only vpon the extreame partes therof, as are the féete, chappes,

and Swinesfleash in déede nourisheth mutch ingendreth good iuce, and loooseth the bellie by reason of the stoare of moisture and sliminesse which is in it: howbeit, it prouoketh not vrine, and agréeth very well with them that vse a slender diet. But the yong sucking pigge is best of all, and nourisheth most, and maketh passing good blood.

Chap. 16. Of Deeres fleash, Hares fleash, and Beares fleash.

ANd still to folow the iudgement of my first auctour in the place aboue recited, Deares flesh is Melancholik & hard of digestion, but the yonge sucking Fawnes are the best in that kinde, and the midle aged are next in goodnes vnto these, and the ould ones worst of all. The gelded buck, and the barrein Doe, are best of the two last sortes, for that they bée of a tem∣perate heat, & drieth. Howbeit Auicen saith, that they make grosse substance which descendeth down to fast, and breadeth the quartaine ague. And the top of the Deares taile is poyson. The Hare, as saith Rhasis, most certenly ingendreth Melan∣cholick blood, aboue all other fleash. But Isaac saith, that al∣though it ingender drie, and grosse blood: yet is it betttr then the fleash of the yong Kid or Goate. And Beares fleash, as hée writeth, is very clammie, repugnant to digestion, and yéelde eeuell nutriment, and is more to be vsed for Medicine, then for Meate.

Chap. 17. Of the partes of Beastes.

THe Head, saith Rhasis, of euery thing is of grosse substance, nourishing much, & heateth, & ought not to be eaten but at cold seasons: For thereby many times is the Collick ingen∣dred, it much comforteth bloud, & increaseth the séede of Man.

The Braine being colde, ouerturneth the stomack, and hur∣teth it, and therfore whoso eateth Braines: let him eate thē before al other meate. Moreouer it is good for hot Complexi∣ons, and éeuell for sutch as are troubled with colde diseases.

Marrow cummeth very nigh vnto temperature, but it is sumwhat of the hottest, it increaseth naturall séede, and mol∣lifieth

the stomack. The Vdder of a beast is cold & grosse, and although it nourish mutch yet is it hard of digestion, and is good for them that haue a hot stomack, and Liuer. The Liuer is hot and moist, heauie, and hard of digestion. Isaac saith that it ingendreth good blood, but specially of young beastes that suck. But the Liuer of a Hen or Capon is better then of sucklinges. The Hart, as hée saith, is of an hard substance, and is slowly digested, but being well digested: it nourisheth mutch. The lights also, saith hée, is easely concocted, and soone departeth foorth of the stomack, by ••eason of the lightnes, and rarenes of the substance therof. The Kidneis are naughty in two resp••••tes, the one is for the hardnes, & grossenes of their substance: the other is, for that they be nourished by the fat∣tines of the vrine, wherby they ingender grosse and very ée∣uell blood. Rhasis in the place aboue cited saith, that read fleash without fat, ingendreth dry blood, making but small excre∣mentes, and nourisheth more then fat: Fat ingendreth very moiste blood, causeth mutch superfluity, and nourisheth but litle. Fleash interlarded béetwéene fat and leane, ingendreth temperate blood. The féete augment slimie iuce. The fore∣most part of the rumpe is lighter and hotter, and the hinder-most heauier and colder.

Chap. 18. Of Fleash in Pasties and Pies.

FLeash, sayth Rhasis, which is baked in Pasties and Pies is éeuell, and nourisheth litle, but is good for them that haue the sower belchyng. And generally all sortes of Pasties and Pies yéelde but litle nourishment in comparison of meates made with brothes. Yet many times they do good to them y^t are full of humours, & pleasure them that would dry vp, and make their bodies proper. Fleash rosted on the spit, is grosse, and nourisheth mutch, if it méet with a stronge and a hot sto∣mack to digest it, it bindeth the belly, whiche is manifestly prooued, if a man eate the leane only without fat.

Fleash boyled with Egges and Pepper is hot, and is a good meate for winter, for it strengthneth the body, and nouri∣sheth

aboue al other meats, it increaseth also séede, and bloud. It maketh a man well coulered, strong, and well set. But in Summer it bringeth lothsomnesse, heateth, and bréedeth the stone.

Chap. 19. Of Foules in generall.

AL Foules generally, as Isaac reporteth, are lighter and fi∣ner then the beasts that go on the earth, but they nourish lesse. And the wilde Foules are better then the tame foules, their fleash is more tender, & ••asier of digestion. The cause wherof is the lightnes and rarenes or their fleash procéeding of their often flying, and the drinesse of the ayre. But the tame Foules nourish more, and make commendable blood, and are more temperate by reason of the good temperature of their moysture and exercise. But aboue all foules these are the finest the Stare, younge Pertredges, and house chic∣kens, and next vnto them the elder Pertredge, the Feasant, the house Hen, and the Capon. Chickens are lighter of di∣gestion then other Foules, and ingender good blood. They comfort the appetite, and vnto all natures and complexions they are most agreeable, especiall the Cockrel chickens nie∣their to fat nor to leane. And Auerrois in the fift of his Col∣lections writeth thus: amonge Foules the Hen is principall insomutch that the broth thereof is good Medicine for those that haue the Leprosie, and some say, that a Hens Braine augmenteth the substance of a mans braine, and sharpneth the wyt.

Chap. 20. Of the Hen.

THE House Hen, saith Isaac▪ is not althing so moist as is the Chick, & for that cause if it be compared to the temp••∣rament of the chickins, it is hard of digestion, but if it be wel digested it nourisheth mutch, and specially if it bée shewed or boyled in fine broth, by which orderinge it taketh a certaine moistur of the water, and comforteth the stomack, and yéel∣deth much nutriment. Moreouer, mine aucthour Rhasis in the

place often before alleaged, saith thus: The fleash of y^e Stare is fownde by experience to be best of all other foules, and most fit for those that meane to liue with a fine, and subtile diet. Next to this is the fleash of the Quayle, which ingendreth but litle superfluitie, and is supposed not to be very hot. Then after this cumth the fleash of Chickens, and next of Pertred∣ges which is more grosse, bindinge the belly, and nourishinge mutch.

Chap. 21. Of yong Pigeons.

YOung Pigeons are very hot, ingendringe inflamed blood, and soone bringing an ague. And Isaac mine auctour saith, that yong Pigeons are hot, and full of moisture, wherfore they make grosse nutriment, a witnesse wherof is their hea∣uines and ••naptnes to flye, but when they béegin to flye they waxe lighter and more acceptable to digestion, they bée méete for flegmatick persons, but naught for the collericke. And also as the same writer saith: Duckes are the woorst of al foules, for their fleash, saith Rhasis, ingendreth mutch super∣fluity, and destroieth apetite, and is very warme, but if nou∣risheth more then Hennes fleash doth. To conclude, the fleash of all water foules in generall bréedeth mutch superfluitye, and if it haue therwith an éeuell sauour: thē is it iudged much the woorse.

Chap. 22. Of partes of foules, as they bee eaten.

THe Giserd of all foules, saith Isaac, is full of sinewes and hard of digestion, but béeing digested it make mutch nutri∣ment. But of all Gisardes the Gooses is best, bicause of the plentie of moisture in it, and next vnto that is the Hennes or Capons Gisard. Likewise their Liuers is best commended, and most nourishing. The Winges of all foules are better then any other part of the body, bicause of their often moo∣uing and exercise, for moouing consumeth the superfluitye of moisture. The Gooses and Hennes neckes are best of all other foules neckes, and all partes of carued foules are better

then of the stoned, which maketh the Capon to bée most ex∣cellent, and to yéelde best nutriment, and to ingender perfect blood. The Braines of foules are lesse moist and slimy, but drier, then of foure footed beasts, and therfore more to be ly∣ked, chiefly of young Stares, Partredges, Hennes, & Cockes before they crowe, or come to bée carued.

Chap. 23. Of Egges, and their properties.

FOrasmutch as Egges, saith Isaac, do yéeld mutch nutriment for that their whole substance is conuerted into good iuce, by reason of the affinity which they haue to mans nature, and specially the yolke: therfore in respecte of their tempera∣ment they bée most like vnto mans body. In this qualitye, saith Rhasis, aboue the rest are Hen egges, and Pertredges egges, both which augment séede in man woonderfullye, and prouoke him to Lechery: next vnto which are Ducke egges, in goodnesse not mutch inferiour, but makinge éeuell iuce. Géese egges are lothsome, & haue an éeuell smell. Hen egges, and Pertredge egges are most temperate, and conuenient. The yolke being temperate in heat, causeth good nutriment. The white is cold and slimy, and hardly concocted. But con∣cerning the yolke, Auerrois vpon the Canticles of Auicen shew∣eth, how some bee of opinion, that it ingendreth as mutch blood in weight, as it selfe is of. And Rhasis sayth, that egges that are sodden or rosted hard, are more hard to digest, and descend, slowlier out of the stomack. But soft egges are more quick to descend, being good for those that are troubled with a bloody fluxe, whose strength thereby is mutch decaied. As for réere egges which are nether hard nor soft, are as it were in y^e middes betwen both y^e other. Moreouer, egges are good against roughnes in the throat, and by them is ingendred tē∣perate blood, and much strength. What shal I say more? they are as good as fleash, and many times stand in steede therof, wherfore those persons y^t be very fat ought not to vse them.

Chap. 24. Of Milke.

OF Milke also it is Isaacks opinion, that it is very like vnto blood. For in déed it is none other thē y^e milk y^e second time

cōcocted in the breasts or vdder, wherof it receiueth whitnes, tast, and ability. Rhasis likewise saith, that new milk commeth néere to the temperment, although it decline a litle vnto cold∣nes and moisture, wherby it fatteth and moistneth the body. It is medicinable vnto those that haue the feuer Hesticae, and the drie cough, and the burning of the vrine. It ministreth excellent good nourishment vnto drie bodies, & bringeth them to temperature: it also increaseth blood, and seede. But in that it is soone altered, it is noisome for those that bée haunted with sharp feuers, or ar troubled with headache by accidēt of sicknes, and to them that are subiect to the collick, or vnto a∣ny other disease comminge of cold. Cow milke of all beastes milke is counted the grossest, and is good for thē that woulde fain bée fat of body. And Asses milke is the subtilest of anye beasts milke, & is good for all that are diseased in y^e Lungues. Goates milke kéepeth a mediocrity beetweene both, but Eewe milke causeth more superfluities then any of them all. Isaac writeth of milke in this māner: Milke of beasts that be soūd & not sicke, if it be not eaten often, nor mutch, but moderatly: ingendreth cōmendable blood, moisteneth the belly, healpeth the breast, Lungues, & bladder, especially if the watrishnes therof, be sumway corrected: as altred with bread, flouer, oat∣meale, rice, or such like and then eaten. Rhasis writeth, y^e But∣ter milke is good against y^e Laske proceding of red choler, and helpeth thē y^t are leane, and haue weak bodies, & the rather, if there be a piece of hot iron or stéele often quēched in it▪ whey extinguisheth red choler, it cureth y^e scab, whelks, blisters, the yelow iaundice, & healpeth thē y^t are hurt w^t drinking strong wines. He saith also that Butter being raw, aswageth the sharpnes of the throat, helpeth the Letters and ringworms, taketh away the rednes of the face, and cleereth the skinne, maketh whole pimpels and quiddles y^t are sharp & dry being therwith annointed, but it breedeth lothsomnes, & ascendeth vp to the mouth of the stomack. Seddē butter weakneth y^e sto∣mack, softneth hard impostumacions, laid vnto them plaister wise: it resisteth y^e most venemous bityng of Vipers. Whoso

vseth to féede mutch on butter shall continually be troubled with diseases cumming of fleame. It nourisheth most of any vnctuous thing, an•• is of great facultie.

Chap. 25. Of Cheese.

LYkewise hee sayth that gréene Cheese is colde and grosse, and thought vnméete for colde natures. But ould Chéese is esteemed of, according to the age. Tange Chéese which tasteth sharp of y^e rennet is hot, burning, bréedeth thirst, and nourisheth éeuel. But if a man eate a litle therof after meat: it strengthneth the mouth of the stomack, also it taketh away satietie, and lothinge of the meat, which chaunceth many times in the mouth of the stomack after swéete meates, but it must bée neyther to newe Chéese nor to olde. Moreouer Isaac saith, that all Chéese in generall is naught, noisum to the stomak, and hard of digestion, so that they which com∣monly eate it fall into the collick, and are greued with the stone in the kidneis. Howbeit the better the Chéese is, the lesse harme it doeth.

Chap. 26. Of Fisshes

THe temperament of Fish generally, as saieth Isaac, is cold and moist, ingendring fleame, most agréeable vnto hot and drie complexions in Summer time, and in hot regions. And vnconuenient vnto colde & drie complexions, in winter time, and in colde Regions. Al Fishe is either of the Sea, or of the fresh water. Those that are of the Sea remaininge in the déepe not neere the shoare in grauely and sandy places, are most subtile and commendable and easier of digestion then the other sea fishe and ingender better bloud, but they discend slowly out of the stomack and intrailes for lack of moist slimines. Fresh water fish are vniuersally more grosse and slimie, & slow of digestion, but they voide out of the sto∣mack with more facilitie then the seafish, and nourish more. The best of these are they which remaine in dowfalles and swift running streames, whose bottome is grauelly or san∣die,

and far of from the filthines of any towne or citie. Pond Fish is of all other the worst, of éeuell sauour and hard of di∣gestion, especially if they be far from the sea or any running streame. Rhasis, (mine aucthour (saith: all Fishes are hard of concoction, and tary longe in the stomacke, and make a man thirstie. The bloud which younge Fish ingendreth is flegma∣ticke, bréedyng vicious sliminesse in the body, wherof spryng sundrie diseases. Wherefore wee ought to choose sutch fish whose substance is not clammy, nor very grosse, nor haue any éeuel smel, nor wil quickly putrifie, nor that abide in pondes, Lakes and Méeres, that yeeld foorth a stinkyng sauour. For they that are conuersant in filthy places are not fit to bee ea∣ten, neither sutch as liue in waters aboundyng with vnhol∣some weedes wheron the Fish do feede, for they bee made therby vnapt to bee eaten. Saltfish ought not in any sort be set on the boorde, nor to bee fead on, vnlesse it were when a man for medicine sake would cause himself to vomit. But if any bee desirous to eate therof, let him eate but a smal quan∣titie, dressed with some slippery or vnctuous thinge, whiche may loth the stomack. The Crafish of the riuer is very good for weake persons, as saieth Auicen, theyr fleash is good for them that haue a consumption, so is their broathe, and Asses Milke. And some say, that they will breake great impostuma∣rions if they bee layde therto.

Chap. 27. Of Pulse.

COnsequently wee must intreate of Pulse, in all sortes and kindes, and first of Rice, of which Isaac in the first booke of the woorke béefore alleaged, sayeth thus: Rice is drie in the fourth degree and hot in the first, whiche beyng sodden with water is good against the Collick that holdeth but one day. But being sodden with Almond milke it léeseth the binding facultie, and nourisheth well, and ingendreth good blood, and augmenteth séede. And if with the Rice or with the broth of it you wash freckles, it taketh them away, and clenseth the skin. Auicen writeth, that the huske of Rice is thought to bee

poison, for if it bée geuen in drinke to any man, immediatlye hée féeleth paine in his mouth, and his tongue wilbée blistred.

Beanes, after Isaac, that bee gréene: are cold and moist in the third degree, and nourish but litle, they ingender grosse and rawe humours, and bréede winde in y^e vppermost part of the belly. Dry beanes are colde and dry in the first degrée, ingen∣dring thick windes in the vppermost part of the belly, from whence there arise hurtfull fumes into the brain. They cause sundrye grosse and corrupt dreames, and are hard of concoction. The great white beane not béeing old, is the best, and if it bée sodden in water there is mutch of the windines taken away therby, and of the grossenes likewise, specially if the first water be throwne away, ••nd they be boyled again in another. Béeing sodden with Mintes, Organ, Cumin, and sutch like, and so eaten, theyr windines is mutch amended. Whoso is desierous to clense the skin of his body: let him vse to wash himself with the meale of Beanes, and he shall haue his will. Rhasis, sayth, that gréene beanes ingender grosse and raw humours, augmentyng fleame in the stomacke and intrayles, whiche breedeth mutch windinesse. Lentles also sayth hee are colde and drie, ingendring melancholick bloud, and dryinge the body, they darken the eyesight, and nourish Melancholicke diseases, if a man vse them mutch. Isaac saith, they fill the Brayn with grosse fumes and Melancholie smo∣kes, causing payn, and fearful dreames. Isaac deuideth Chitch Peasen into white, and blacke. The white is hot in the first degrée, and moyst in the middle of the same, hard of cōcoction, ingendryng wynde and fumositie in sutch quantitie: that it puffeth vp the fleash, and driueth the skin abroad, so that they which vse it haue a fayre white skin, for when the skinne is borne vp and stretched abroad: it sheweth white, and cléere. The blacke Chitch is hotter then the white, but not so moyst and is good agaynst oppilation of the Liuer, if it bee boyled with Smaledge and Radish, and the iuce therof drunken, it also increaseth Milke, and seede, and prouoketh Vryne. Peason, according to the famous Arnoldus de villa noua, in his

gouernment of health: are of this nature: if they or Chitche•• bée laide a stéepe all night in fresh water, and bee boyled next day in the same, a two or three wallops, and then bée stray∣ned and kept, and when yée goo to meat there be put vnto the liquor a litle white wine, and a small quantity of Spikenard in pouder, and saffron, and a litle salt Indie, and then once boyled togither one wallop, and ministred at the beginning of the meale to bée drunken or eaten, crummed like potage. It clenseth the small veines, and the passedge of the vryne, e∣specially if the Peasen and Chitches be layd in soke, and boi∣led with Persley in the same water. The vnskilfull sort say that they should bee layd a soke in Lie, but that soking taketh away all the openyng facultie, and the finest part of the sub∣stance of them.

Chap. 28. Of Pothearbes.

NOw let vs say sumwhat of Pothearbes accordinge as or∣der and doctrine requireth, and first of Garlike, whiche, as saith Rhasis, is hot and drie, and taketh awaye thirstines, and increaseth fleashly lust, breaketh winde, and heateth the body. In hot regions, hot times, and vnto hot complexions it doth harme, and Galen calleth it the husbandmens triacle. Beanes or Lentles sod & eaten take away the stinking smell of it, and so doth Rue béeing chawed, and a litle therof eaten downe. So lkewise doth Setwall, or Mintes of the garden or wilde, if it be broken betwéene the teeth, and after it a litle quantity of vinegre bee receiued. To the same purpose ser∣ueth the roote of Beetes, saith Plinie, beeing rosted, and eaten after it. Sorrell in Rhasis iudgment is cold and dry, it bindeth the belly, and sharpneth the stomack, extinguishing red cho∣ler, and thirst. Auicen saith, that it taketh away toothach if they be washed with the iuce therof. Dill, according to Isaac in the second booke is hot and dry, and being drunken in wine: re∣solueth windines, puffines, and swelling in the stomack, and belly. The branches therof boiled in Oile, dissolue swellings beeinge outward anoynted, aswage payne, and bring sleepe.

The séede drunken prouoketh vrine, increaseth milke, clen∣seth the stomack from putrified humours, it healpeth the hicket procéeding of the long abiding of meat in the stomack, and the often eating therof weakneth the eie sight.

Garden Smalledge by the aucthoritie of Isaac, being eaten openeth oppilations, prouoketh vrine, bindeth the bellie, is éeuell for the falling sicknes, and hurteth wéemen with child: and sutch as are w^t childe & frequent the eating of it, it ingen∣dreth in the childes body biles, and rotten impostumacions. Neither may we commēd y^e vse of Smalledge, for it draweth humours togither from all partes of the body vnto the sto∣mack, wherof insueth vomiting. The séede prouoketh vrine aboue the branches, and as saith Rhasis, Smalledge openeth oppilacions and puffeth vp there withall, it mooueth to vene∣ry, and taketh away y^e eeuel sauour of the mouth. Arredge al∣so, sayth hee, is colde and moist, loosing the belly, nourishinge well, and is good for them that haue an hot liuer.

Plinie in his second booke writeth, that it ingendreth sundry sicknesses, and therfore the liquor wherein it is boyled, ought many times to bee chaunged, or els it ingendreth pusshes, and foule spots in the skin. Persnep, as saith Rhasis, is hot and windy, slowly digested, it maketh the séede of man hot, and ex∣pelleth vrine, and farther saieth Isaac, it helpeth fleshly lust, prouoketh the termes, and ingendreth discōmendable bloud.

After Plinie in the second booke, Beetes are of two sortes, white, & red. The roote of the red sod in water killeth the itch, the iuce appeaseth the auncient paine in the head, & the da∣seling, and the singing in the eares, it driueth foorth vrine, it appeaseth the toothach, it prouoketh to venerie, and is good against poison. Borage, as saith Constantinus, is hot & moist in y^• first degrée, it purgeth red choler, it helpeth y^t hart burning, and being stéepedin wine and drunken: it maketh them mery that are sad by reason of Melancholie, and the hea rbe it selfe eaten raw, as some say, ingendreth good bloud.

Colewortes, according vnto Rhasis opinion, bréedeth black choler, troubleth the sleepe with éeuell dreames, but it lenifi∣eth

the throate and breast, it maketh the belly soluble, and ta∣keth away drunkennes. Isaac writeth of Colewortes, that the iuce therof drunken looseth the bellie, but eaten without broath they doo bind, and therfore to amend their faute, the first iuce wherein they were sodden must be cast away, & thē they must be sodden with good fat meate. Onions seasoned with oyle, do neither heaten nor coole, nor prouoke thirst, but make an Appetite. And Dioscorides saith, that if the iuce of them be receiued in at the nose: it purgeth the head very wel, and stamped with Vineger taketh away spottes, prouoketh sléepe, and softneth the bellie.

The Gourd after Auicen, is good for the cholerick persons, and hurtfull to the melancholick and fleagmatick, and Dio∣scorides writeth, that the iuce therof holden in the mouth a∣swageth the toothach. Cummin according to Rhasis is hot and drie, because it healpeth digestion, and breaketh wynde, & Dioscorides reporteth, that being mingled with Vineger, it stayeth the termes, and being drunken or annointed stoppeth the bléeding at the nose, and maketh pale and low coulered. The séede drunken with water, doth effectually cure wrin∣gings, gripings, and windines in the guttes, and Isaac saith, if it be mingled with windy meates, it rectifieth them, and killeth wormes being drunken. Fenell seede also saieth hee, increaseth milke, it dischargeth the stoppinges of the Liuer, and bladder, & expelleth the stone of the Kidneis, and is good against long agues, and saith Dioscorides, being mingled with eie confections: it taketh away y^e mistines frō them. Hyssop, after Rhasis, is hot, being eaten helpeth the eie sight of weak∣nes, it remedieth y^e whéezing in the Lungues, it driueth foorth woormes and causeth abortion, and healpeth to disgest our meate. Garden Lettice, as saith Isaac, is the best of all other Hearbs to ingender good bloud, and being vnwashed it is the better, and is soone concocted. It prouoketh vrine, it quench∣eth red choller in y^t stomack, it cooleth the boyling of the bloud, it bringeth sléepe, and increaseth bloud, and seede. Mintes al∣so, saith hée, is hot and drie in the second degree, comforteth

the stomack, & prouoketh appetite. It clenseth away al lothsō∣nes of meate from y^e stomack, procéeding of corrupt humors, also it clenseth the roughnes of y^e tongue being rubbed ther∣with. If it be sodden in vinegre, and w^t the liquor the chawes be washed: it clenseth the rottennes of the gummes, but they must afterward be rubbed w^t pouder of dried Mints. Cresses as Rhasis saieth: are hot, and therefore heate the Liuer and stomack, they also molifie the bellie, and driue woormes out of the Maw, they prouoke desier of wéemens company, clense the Lunges, and take away the whéesing, help stopping of the Milt, and procure abortion. Poppie, as Isaac deuideth it, is white, and black. The black is y^t wherof they make Opium, the white is more commendable, & nourishing, of which Dioscorides writeth thus: They that are wont to eate Poppie, it bréedeth in them mutch sléepe, and forgetfulnesse. Rhasis saith that the séede of white Poppie is colde, good for the throate and breaste, and maketh one sléepe. Persley also, saieth Isaac, is hot and drie in the end of the third degrée, it prouoketh v∣rine and Wéemens termes, resoluing windines, and increa∣sing seede, and, as Serapion saith, Persley layd plasterwise vp∣pon wheles, scabbes, and morfew: cléereth the skin wonder∣fully, aswageth the paine of the kidneis & bladder, rarefieth y^• passedges of y^t body in opening the pores, prouoketh vrine & sweat, clenseth the Liuer, and resolueth the windie collick. I eekes, as testifieth Rhasis, ar hot & dry although they prouoke appitite, yet make they the head to ake, and ingender éeuyll dreames, and are hurtful for them y^t are commonly troubled with the continuall headach, and those that are soone offended with heat. Isaac therfore giueth counsell that it were good immediatly vpon them to eate Lettice, Purslain, or Endiue, that by the colones of one the heate of the other may bée de∣layed. Béeing eaten raw: they clense the pipes of the Lunges from grosse humours, they open y^t oppilacions of the liuer, & stop the salt rewme. Purslaine, according to Rhasis, by quen∣ching thirst and inwarde burninge, bindeth the bellie, and taketh away the chilnesse of the téeth, & bindeth the laske, pro∣céeding of red choler, and it diminisheth natural sede. If war∣tes

be rubbed therwith, saith Auicen, they will come away by the rootes. Radish, as Rhasis writeth, is hot and drie, ta∣reing long in the stomack, it maketh the iuce subtile, and lif∣teth it vp vnto the mouth of the stomack, and so prouoketh vomit. The leaues digest our meate, and prouoke appetite in vs, being receiued but in small quantitie. And Isaac saieth, that if they be eaten after meate they breake winde, and by reason of their heauynes they make the meate to go downe. And Dioscorides addeth, that the roote being eaten with salt: increaseth milke, prouoketh vrine and the Flowers, & with a litle grated Ginger put into an hollowe tooth, aswageth the toothach presently. The Rape, after y^e iudgment of Isaac is hot in y^e second degrée, and moist in y^e first. It nourisheth more thē al other hearbs, yet is it hard of digestion, it maketh soft and foggie flesh, it stirreth vnto company of wéemen, & increaseth séede. Plinie in y^e second booke writeth y^t y^e Rape being sodden, driueth cold out of y^e féete. And y^e cōmentarie writer Auorrois, in y^e fift of his colections saith, y^t the Rape hath a marueilous force to cléere y^• eie sight. Rue, as y^e learned Isaac reporteth, is good for concoction, bicause it hath y^e faculty to expell grosse & clāmie humors, it breketh windines, & moistneth y^e belly. And Auicen saith, y^t it taketh away y^e lothsome sauour of Garlick, Léekes, & Onions, sharpnethe the sight, and taketh away the desier to weemen. Sage, after Diosc. prouoketh y^e termes, & pro∣cureth abortion. The broth wherin the twigs and leaues are boiled repres the thoughts of lust, and motion to venery. The iuce of y^e leaues maketh heire black. Macer saith thus of Sage:

If it be laid vpon the bite: It heales the poysoned rankling quite.

Spinage and Succorie are temperate, agreeable to the throate, Lunges, & stomack, the lenifie y^e belly, & make very good nutri∣ment. Todestooles, according to y^e doctrine of Rhasis, are cold & grosse, & ingender raw fleame. Those of thē which be red are naught, for if they be eaten they ingender the collick, and at no time they must be eaten without warme sauces. Mus∣••hroms are farre worse then Todestooles whereof some be stark poyson, and will choke a man, & kill him presently. But the best of them ingender fleame. Isaac saith thus of them: by these tokens you shall knowe them that will kill men.

They be soft, slimy, and grosse, and beinge slit in the middle and let to lye so all a night: the next morninge you shall finde them rotten.

Chap. 29. Of Frutes.

THus by experience the noble Galen writeth of Frutes, my father, saith hee, had his health all his life time bicause hée eate no frutes. And whē he was dead I began to eate frutes, and by meanes therof I fell into sundry, and long continu∣ing diseases. And after that I abstained from rathe frutes, I had neuer any sicknes sauing an ague which helde mée one day. Then shewed I the same vnto my friendes, and they that beleeued mée abstained from rathe frutes, and in al their life time were neuer sicke. This mutch of frutes in generall.

Figges, according to Rhasis, clense the kidneis frō grauell, béeing gréene they bréed winde in the belly, and they loose the same, and make indifferent good iuce. If they bée drye, they nourish mutch, and do heaten, the often vse whereof ingen∣dreth the itch, and lyse, and loose the belly béeinge eaten bée∣fore meate. Of whom moreouer, myne aucthour Isaac sayth, in his second booke, that if they méet with a stomacke well clensed from humours, they are then good of digestion, they ingender good blood, clense the stomack, lungues, kidneis, and bladder if they be eaten fasting. Dates, saith hée, are hot and make grosse nutriment, and if they be eaten oftentimes they ingender grosse blood in the inner partes, they corrupt the teeth, and make steame and blood to abound. And in the secōd booke Isaac saith, that Dates being hot and dry in the second degree, are better of digistion then Figs, & more prouoking vrine. But whoso accustometh himself vnto them: shall feele an hard swelling in his Liuer, & Spleene. Raisens, as wit∣nesseth Rhasis, whiche are very sweete, are hot, but not so hot as Dates, neither so stopping as they are, they be windy and hurt mutch, they franke vp the body suddeinly, they also in∣crease motion vnto venery, and woorke to the erection of the yeard. Those which haue the thinnest skin, do soonest des∣cend, and bréede lesse windines, and the contrary do contrari∣wise.

Those that are sower do not heaten, but béeing washed in cold water, and eaten before meate, do as it were extin∣guish heat. Sower grapes are colde, they binde the belly, and they represse blood and red choler.

Raisens are temperate in heat, which causing good nutry∣ment, do bréed no oppilacion as Dates do, although they nou∣rishe stronger and in greater quantity.

Pomegranates whiche are swéete, according to Rhasis, doo not coole, but puffe vp, and cause thirstinesse, but they leni∣fie the throat. The sower ones make the breast and throat rough, also they puffe vp the stomacke and Liuer, but al∣wayes they moderate the heat of blood and red choler, they quench Feuers, and represse vomites. And Isaac saith, that Pomegranates are fitter for medicine then for meat, for they yéelde but smal nourishment, but it is good. It is the proper∣ty of tart Pomegranates to extinguish the rage of humours, and to comforte the stomacke. The iuce dropped into their eies that haue the yelow Jandies taketh away the yellow couler.

Quinces saith Rhasis, bée they swéet or sower, they strengh∣then the stomack, but principally the sower, they prouoke also a good appetite, and binde the bellye. Béeinge eaten after meate, they make the ordure to discende quickely, and expell it out of the belly. And béeinge eaten before meate they woorke the contrary effect. The sower ones are stron∣gest in bindinge the belly.

Peares after Galen béeyng eaten béefore meate, do bynde, but after meate they loose the belly. Peares that are very swéet do not puffe vp, but they all binde the belly, vnlesse they bee eaten after meat. For béeing eaten after meat they driue the ordure foorth, and then they strengthen the stomacke.

Isaac also saith, y^e sweet Peares are temperate, and if they bee boyled with Musshroms they take away all theyr clen∣singe, especially if they be wilde Peares, by reason of theyr tartnes. Appels, after the iudgement of Isaac: are colde,

and bicause of their sowernesse do binde the more. And al∣though they agrée well with the mouth of the stomacke: yet they fill it full of slimy humoures. Auicen saith that Apples do comfort, especially those that smell sweete. Baked in a Pie they help the appetite, but the dayly eating of them cau∣seth ouermutch heating of the sinewes.

Peaches, accordynge to Auicen, if they bée ripe: are good for the stomacke, causinge good concoction vnto meate, but they may not bee eaten after other meate, for they corrupte it, but rather béefore meate. If the Appels bee drye they bée harde of digestion, and although they nourish mutch yet are they not good. And Isaac saieth, that the greater Pea∣ches, if they bee ripe they loose the belly, but otherwise they binde it. The lesse whiche are called in Latin Praecocia, and in English (as I thinke) Africoes, are holsome for the stomacke, and take away lothsomnesse. Medlers, saith hée are cold and dry in the first degrée, they comforte the stomacke, and take away the fluxe of choler, and represse vomitinge, they prouoke vrine, and beeinge taken beefore meate they comfort the stomack the more, and hurt not the sinewnesse therof. And Dioscorides writeth, that some saye they helpe mutch the toothach if they bée eaten while the teeth ake.

The Pome Citron, after the opinion of Auicen, beeing pa∣red and the rine eaten or chawed: maketh the mouth smell pleasantly. The sower iuce beeinge anointed killeth ringe∣wormes, the decoction drunken maketh a good couler, and fatteth the body. Mulberies which are ripe and swéete, as saith Isaac, loose the b••lly, are soone cast forth out of the sto∣mack, and prouoke vrine. Being eaten fastinge out of coulde water, they are very cooling, they quench thirst, and vnna∣turall heat. Plummes, likewise, saith hée, are of two sortes. Some white, which are harde of digestion, and noisome to the stomake. The blacke of the gardein, béeinge ripe, moisten the stomacke, and make soft the bellye, and pourge red choler. But if they be eaten ouermutch: they hurt the

stomacke, but they do lesse hurt eaten before meat.

Cheries also, as the same aucthour writeth, are soone con∣uerted, they engender grosse fleam and slimy with in the hol∣lownes of the Liuer and Splene. And therfore ingender longe agues, and are very éeuell euery way. The best time to eate them is béefore meat, for when they be eaten vpon a ful stomacke, they flit aboue, and turne to putrifaction.

Almondes, accordinge to Rhasis, are temperate in heate, which although they make the throat smooth, yet are they heauy in the stomack, and tary long there, they open oppyla∣cions, and aswage the burning of the vrine, and béeing eaten with sugar: augment seede of generacion.

The bitter Almondes, according to Isaacks iudgment, are hot and dry in the end of the second degrée, they clense, scoure, and comfort, they mooue vrine, and dissolue grosse and clam∣mye humours, by meanes wherof they clense the breast and Lungues from fleagmatick humours, and release the oppi∣lacions of the Liuer and Splene.

Nuts likewise, saieth the same aucthour, in a cholericke person, and one that hath a hot stomacke: are soone turned into cholerick vapours ascending into the head, causinge the payne and giddinesse thereof. But if a man would correcte them and make them good, hée must crack them, and blanche them, and lay them a stiepe a whole night in water, that they may get some moysture.

Dioscorides sayeth, that two Nuttes, and two dry Figges, and twentie leaues of Rue, or Hearbe Grace, and one grayne of Salt pounded together, and beyng eaten fastyng: keepeth a man from infection of Poyson, or Pestilence.

The Fildbeards, after Rhasis, are not so hotte as the other Nuttes are, but are heauier, and are good agaynst the styn∣ging of Scorpions. And Serapion saieth of them, that if Fild∣beards bée roasted with a litle Pepper and eaten, they ripen the Catarre or Rewme.

Cheastnuts, as Constantinus writeth, are wyndie, they mooue to the acte of the fleash, they yéeld mutch nutriment, they are

hard of digestion, and therfore accordin•• vnto the counsell of Isaac, they must bee rosted, that their éeuell facultye may bée therby amended, and their substance rarified. Then do they aswage the drinesse of the breast and all the body, and mode∣rate the difficulty of makinge water. The Acorne also ac∣cording to the same auctour, béeinge disobedient vnto digesti∣on, bindeth the belly, but prouoketh vrine, and they do nou∣rish. Beaten into pouder, and the pouder laide vpon the Vuula: drieth vp the rotten humours that vse to haunte and hurt the same.

Cap. 30. Of Spices.

PEpper, by the aucthority of Rhasis, helpeth to concoct y^e meat well, and dissolueth windines, and beeing very hot: hea∣teth the stomack and liuer, and hurteth hot bodies especially in Summer. Ginger also, according to the same Aucthour is hot and moist, and in helping concoction is profitable for those whose stomacks and Liuers are colde. It amendeth the dimnesse of sight rising of moisture, and as Auicen writeth, it augmenteth the memory, and clenseth the moisture, of the head, and throat.

Zeadoarie, according to the same Auicen, is a triacle or pre∣seruatiue against all poisons, and as saith Constantinus, if con∣sumeth the swelling by winde, and comforteth the stomack: it prouoketh y^e appetite, taketh away y^t stinking of the mouth through eating garlik, and according to Macrobius, aswageth the heat of the wine which wee haue drunken. Galingale likewise, as writeth Auicen, is hot and drye, it resolueth win∣dines, maketh the mouth sauour well, helpeth the stomacke, concocteth the meate, augmenteth defier to weemen, and cu∣reth the paine of the kidneis. Cloues also, saith hée, are hot and dry in the their degree, they make the body smell well, they sharpen the sight, they comfort the stomacke and Liuer. Cinamom, after▪ the opinion of Rhasis: is hot and dry, which in strengthning mutch helpeth the stomacke, & liuer, it cau∣seth good concoction, and expelleth windines. Also, saith Isaac,

it openeth oppilacions, and prouoketh the termes. Saffron likewise, saith hée, beeing hot and dry in the first degrée: com∣forteth the stomack, openeth the stopping of the Liuer, hel∣peth them that are shortwinded, and comforteth the weake partes. And Rhasis thus speaketh of Saffron in his Almansor. A certen woman, saith hee, was very long in labour of childe bed, and could not bee deliuered. And I gaue vnto her one dramme of Saffron, and immediatly shée was deliuered, and this haue I tried often. And béeing drunken in wine, it is of singular force to make one merie. Plinie in his seconde booke saith: whoso drinketh Saffron firste, shall not feele any surfet: and a crowne made therof and put vpon the head, re∣leaseth drunkennesse. Carawaies, according vnto Constantine is hot and dry in the third degrée, it dissolueth winde, it strengthneth the stomack, it killeth woormes, it helpeth con∣coction, and prouoketh vrine.

Chap. 31. Of Certen Sauces.

MUstard is hot and dry in the middes of the fourth degrée, it drieth vp the moisture of the head and stomack. And Auicen writeth, some say (quod hee) that if one that is fastinge drinke it, it maketh a good vnderstanding, and it clenseth the humours of the head. And Plinie saith in the second booke, that musterdseede prepared with vineger, driueth forth gra∣uell. Salt, saith Rhasis, is hot and dry, it taketh lothsomnes from meates, and maketh the tast sharpe, and it prouoketh the appetite. But whoso eateth salt in any great quantity, it causeth mutch adustion in the blood: it weakneth the eie sight, it diminisheth naturall seede, and ingendreth the itche. Venigre, according to the same aucthour, is colde and drye, making a man leane, & weakning the powers, it diminisheth the séede, it strengthneth Melancholye, and weakneth red choler and blood, and maketh the meat subtile and fine wher∣with it is receiued. Honie, as saith Isaac in the second booke is hot and dry in the second degree, it taketh awaye the cause why the body cannot bee nourished, and altereth the éeuell

disposition vnto better, and expelleth the aboundaunce of éeuell humours out of the pores, and clenseth the filth of the veines, and therfore is very agréeable vnto them that are cold and moist of Nature, and vnto old men. And vnto hot com∣plexions it is as poyson, for it is soone conuerted into choller. If it be turned into y^e warmnes of blood, it maketh it the war∣mer. So that Honie being eaten raw: ingendreth windines, and maketh a man to swell, bréedeth the roughnesse of the throat, and prouoketh vnto vomite and siege.

Oyle Oliue, as Plinius writeth in the fourth booke, maketh euery body soft which it toucheth, giueth force and strength, restraineth al manner of poysons, driueth away payne, looseth the belly, clenseth the face, appeaseth the swelling, cléereth the eiesight, helpeth the headach, and aswageth the heate of Feuers. The Oyle of Nuts, saith Rhasis, is very hot and dis∣soluing, and according vnto Auicen, it is good against the ring∣woorme, inflamacions, and pustles in any part of the eie. The Oyle of Almondes, after Rhasis, is temperate, and is good for the Breast, Lunges, Bladder, and Kidneis, but if it be eaten it bréedeth lothsumnesse, and departeth slowly out of the Sto∣mack. And, as saith Dioscorides, if it be mingled with Honie: it taketh away y^t spots in y^e face, & maketh smooth the skarres where wounds haue bin, it clenseth the mistines of the eies, and taketh away the skales from the skin.

Oyle of Poppie is to be iudged of, according to the nature of Poppie, wherof we intreated in the Chapter last goyng bee∣fore. And thus endeth the first Booke, the contents wher∣of I haue gathered out of the best approued Aucthours.

¶FINIS.

¶The second booke of Table Phylo∣sophy, which speaketh of the manners, béehauiour, and vsedge, of all sutch with whom wee may happen to bee conuersant at the TABLE.

The Preface.

HAuing ended the discourse concerning the Nature of Meates and Drynkes, which are set before vs vpon the Table, it fol∣loweth now, that wee say sumwhat touchinge the Manners and conditions of whom wee be matched at the Boorde. For as saith Macrobius in the third Booke of his Saturnalia: There is no part of wisdome so great, as to applie a mans talke to the place, and time, hauing a regarde to the estimacion and calling of those that are present. For some will be incouraged with examples of Vertue, other with good turnes, and some with the commenda∣tion of Modestie, that sutch as haue vsed themselues otherwise, and hearing the same: may amende their liues. And therfore as touching them with whom we be set at the Table, I wyll say sumwhat out of the auntient Records of our Elders, beginning with the most woorthy Personagies.

Chap. 1. ¶Of Emperours.

ANd first to speake of Emperours, how that some of that excellent calling haue bin very frugale & spa∣ring at their Boord, as Suetonius in the third Booke of the liues of the. 12. Emperours, writeth of Iulius Caesar, saying that he dranke verie litle Wine, whiche thinge his enemies could not deney, and was indifferent about the residue of his diet. Vpon a time when at the Table the good man of the house where hee supped, had set before him olde preserued Oyle that was ranke & stale, in the steede of new and swéete, when other in company refused it, he only eate it greedely, for y^t he would not séeme to reproue him y^t had inui∣ted him to supper, either of litle good manner or couetousnes.

The same Aucthour also saith of Augustus, that hée was a man of small feeding, and drunke but very litle wine, for hee vsed not to drink therof aboue thrise at a meale. Neither vsed hee commonly to drink Wine, but when he was drie hee woulde dip a sop of bread in faire colde water, or eate the slices of a Cucumber, or of a gréene mellow Apple, whose tast were tart, or sumwhat like vnto wine. In the Ieastes of the Romanes it is written, that the Emperour Augustus was a very small féeder. For he would eate common bread, and litle fishes, or cruddes made of Cowmilke which he would wringe in his hand, or gréene Figges which he lyked well, and these thinges would he eate in euery place, and when so euer his Appetite serued.

Helinandus in his Booke of the institutions of Princes, saith that Iulius Caeser, committed his Baker to prison, because hee gaue him better bread at his Table, then he gaue to the resi∣dew of his Souldiours. Suetonius also in his worke beefore alledged, writeth of the Emperour Tiberius, y^t at his first com∣ming to the Empire he was very frugall and moderate, but afterward hee grue so glouttenous, and geuen to the bellie: that in stéede of Tiberius hee was called Biberius, for Claudius Caldius, for Nero, Mero, that is to say, one ouer much giuen to wine. And vpō a time spending two whole daies and nightes with Pomponius Flacchus, & Piso: for a rewarde, he gaue vnto the one the gouerment of the Prouince of Syria, and to the o∣ther the Lieuetenantship of the same. He lyked better of one that presented him with a Musshrom and a kinde of Birde called Ficedula, then if it had bin a greater matter.

It is also written of the Emperour Vitellius, by Egesippus in his fourth Booke of the destruction of Iherusalem. When hee knew there was secret wait layd for him, in the meane time he gaue himself to feasting and garmandize, bicause he would not lose the famous ignominie of the shame that hung ouer him. Hee was drawne from the banket, hee was contemptu∣ously insulted vpon, and slaine in the midst of the Citie, at one time together, both sheading his bloud and vomyting his

surfeat, who if hée had liued any longer: would haue deuoured the treasure of the Romane Empire in riot, and banketinge. To conclude, hée had reigned but eight Moneths and fiue daies, and yet Rome was able no longer to serue his bellye.

Ghap. 2. Of Kinges

FRrontinus in his fourth booke and third chapter of warlike Pollicies, reporteth how that Alexander king of Macedo∣nia, was vsed to eate of sutch bread as hée founde while hée traueiled vpon the waye. Also in the fourth booke and vii. chapter, hee writeth in this manner. Alexander kinge of Ma∣cedonia, traueilinge by great iourneies through the desertes of Affrica, both hée and all his armye beinge greatly athirst, a souldiour offred him a draught of water in a Sallet, which in presence of them all hee powred on the ground, deseruing more prayse by that example, then if hee had drunke it. Heli∣nandus in the place beefore recited, telleth how that Piso de∣siering Romulus to supper, and perceiuing how litle wine he had drunke at that meale: O Romulus, if euery man woulde do as thou doost, wine would be better cheape. Nay (quod hée) it would bee dearer if euerye man might drinke what hee would. Valerius Max. in his fift booke and sixte chapter, wri∣teth that kinge Alexander vpon a time beeing repulsed from some purpose by a tempest in the winter, beeholding an ould Macedonian souldiour quaking and béenummed with could, and himselfe sitting in his regall seate by a good fier: euen with those handes wherewith hee was woont to bestowe li∣berall rewardes, hee tooke the ould man that was crooked and doubled with colde, and set him in his owne place. What merueill was it then if it were pleasant vnto them to serue so many yeeres vnder that captaine, which esteemed more of the goodhealth of a common souldiour, then hee did of his own dignitye? In the same place it is also writen, that Pyrrhus the king, sayd that certen Tarentines had talked of him very broade, and vndutifull language at a banket. Then demaun∣ded hee of one of the companye, whether they had any sutch

talke or not? yea truly said hée, wée had so indéede, and vnles our wine had fayled vs these had bin but trifles in respect of that we would haue spoken. So pleasant an excuse of their rioting, & so frank confession of the truthe, turned the Kinges wrath into laughter. By vsing of which clemency he obtay∣ned this mutch, that his Subiectes the Tarentines thanked him when they were sober, and praied for him when they were drunken.

Chap. 3. Of Princes.

PLutrach of the institutions of Princes, citeth the aucthori∣tie of Plato, which saith thus: when Potentates oppresse their subiects, it is like as if the head of a body should swell to sutch hugines, that the other parts were able scarcely, or not at all, to beare it, but with great paine. Likewise when the hier powers do hate and persecute the subiectes, it is lyke as if the tutor should pursue his pupil to slay him with the sword which he gaue him to defend him against others. Hel••nan∣dus in his booke of the institution of Princes saith, y^t a Prince should do as the Phisition doth, which neuer geueth extreme medicines, but when he séeth that gentle pocions will neuer recouer the Pacients health. Vnto which purpose said Lucius very well, that it behoued a Prince to be an old man in man∣ners, & to follow ripe and wise counsell, and to imitate the or∣der of good Phisitions, which sumtime cure by filllnge that which is emptie in spare bodies, & sumtime by emptyinge y^t which aboundeth to much in full bodies, aswaging the greife many times with hot burning irons, & often with fomentaci∣ons, and sumtime otherwise, vnto which intent hee setteth downe these verses:

To punish let a Prince be slow, and quick to giue reward: And let it greeue him when he is constrained to be hard.

Aristotle in the third of the Politickes writeth thus: whoso would haue wit and vnderstanding to gouerne (saith he) it se∣meth he would haue God and the lawes to gouerne: but who∣so will haue a man of himself without these to gouerne, put∣teth

a very sauedge beast in aucthoritie. For when rage and lust beare sway, then good men go to wrack, so that vnder∣standing without affection is as good as a written law. Likewise Vegetius in his first booke and first chapter of the art of war, it is decent for a Prince (saith he) y^t no man know mo things nor better things then he, for his knowledge may pro∣fit all his subiectes, and for that cause Princes ought to ap∣plie themselues to the study of wisdome.

Chap. 4 Of the Gentile Byshops.

ƲAlerius in his fift Booke and fift chapter, writeth of Horatius Puluillus, who being Bysshop, and as hee was after the guise at those daies, consecrating a great Church vnto Iupiter, while he was pronouncing the solemne woordes, & hol∣ding the post in his hand: woord was brought vnto him that his sunne was dead: hee neither plucked his hande from the post, neither changed his countinaunce from the publique religion to his priuat sorow, because he would not séeme at that present to sustaine rather the person of a Father, then of a Bysshop. In the same place likewise he writeth of Xeno∣phon, who being offring a very solemne sacrifice, it was tolde him that his eldest sunne was slaine. Then did he only put of the crowne from his head, demaunding of the messenger in what sort he was slaine. And vnderstanding that he was kil∣led fightinge very valiently: he put the crowne vpon his head againe, shewing that he tooke more ioy of his valiencie, then he did greif of his vntimely death. S. Ierome in y^e second booke against Iouinian, writeth y^t Zenon y^t Stoick reporteth of the liues of the auntient priests of Egipt, how that setting all worldly care and busines apart, they alwaies remained in y^e Church, searching the hid natures of things, & obseruing the motions of the stars They neuer companied w^t their wiues, nor any woman, nor neuer saw their children nor kinsfolks after y^e once they betooke thēselues to diuine seruice. They ab∣stained frō eating flesh & drinking wine, chefly to auoid y^e mo∣tion to y^e flesh, which cōmeth by those meats, & y^e drink. They did seldome eate bread, but they vsed oyle both to driue away

lothsomnes, and to take away the roughnes of their throats. What shall I speake of foules, séeing they eschewed egs and milke as fleash, wherof they sayde the one was liquid fleash, and the other bloud, the coulour onely being chaunged. They laide a footstoole vnder their heades in stéede of a pillow, and fasted two or thrée daies togeather. And Aristotle in the seauenth of his Politickes: the Priests saith hée, haue charge of althings appertaining to the God, and to sée that houses bee kept vp tight in repairacions, and those which bee fallen downe may be builded vp agayne, and that others be appoin∣ted vnto their purposes, and for this cause they bee had in re∣uerence. Sum of these Bishops are termed by one man, Princes, by an other Kinges, sum call them Potestates, Pro∣uosts, and Maisters. Sée then if the Priestes and Bysshops of the Gentiles, were so religious, continent, and holie: what ought our Christian Bisshops to be?

Chap. 4. Of noble Personages.

TVllie in his booke of olde age, writeth that when a certen man in reproche saide vnto Themistocles, that hee had no honour of himselfe, but that all his estimacion came vnto him by reason of his cuntrey: surely, saide Themistocles, if I were Seresius I should bee but a verlet, and if thou were an Athenian thou wouldest neuer haue bin of any estimacion.

Cecil••us Balbus, of the toyes of Philosophers writeth: that when one a time one being borne of the race of a Senatour and at that present mutch imbased, obiected to Epaminundas the vil••nes of his birth: I am glad (quoth he) that I am ry∣sen of my selfe, and thou art fallen of thy selfe, and wee both together are honour and dishonour.

Salust in the Oracion of Marius against Iugurth, when one 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ••ery mutch in his owne conceit in respect of his owne 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and therfore reproched Marius basenesse: although (saith h••••) we haue one nature common vnto vs all, that eue∣•••••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ma••, if he can, be most valient and most noble, yet if there •••• an•• man that despice-me, let them do that which is a

agréeable to their manners, since the exercise of vertuous ex∣ploites, is the verie beginning of mine honour. They enuye at mine honour, let them also enuie at my paines, and mine innocency, and my traueiles, and my daungers, for by these haue I woon it. Now sée (I beséech you) how vniust they bée, they wyll not suffer me to get y^t by mine owne vertue, which they boast in themselues to haue bin gotten by another. And because I haue no images, and my Nobility is new and now first risen in my selfe, which better it is to get first, then to dishonour it being once gotten before. As for mee, in my iudg∣ment, there can no mans talke hurt mée. For if they speake ill of mée, my béehauiour shal declare their report to bée false. The Speare and Shield, Ensigne, Barbed Armour for the Courser, with other rewards of the Fielde, and scarres in the fore parte of my body, these are my Images, this is my No∣bilitie, not left vnto me by inheritance as theirs is, but got∣ten by mine owne aduentures and traueill. And Iuuenall the Poet saith very well.

I rather had Thersites sun thou were, so that thou might Like Pyrrhus beare Vulcanus Armes in midst of Martial fight. Then if Achillus should beget one like Thersites foule, A dastard wretch, that could do naught, but prattle, scould & skoule.

And Albertus vpon the first Booke of the Ethickes saith, how it is read, that the Emperour of Rome Dioclesian, who gouer∣ned that Empire very valiently, was taken from among shée∣perds. And he is a right Gentleman, saith Seneca, that is na∣turally disposed vnto vertue.

Chap. 5. Of Knightes.

ƲAlerius Maximus in the third Booke and second Chapter, writeth of a Knight that was Captayne of a band vnder Augustus, and had geuen many a sharp shoure vnto Antonius, and went away euermore with the better hand. At length being taken by treason, and brought prisoner to Alexandria, Antonius asked hym what hee should do to him? Then the

Knight, said commaunde mee to bee slaine (quod hee) for ney∣ther with hope of life, nor feare of death will I bee perswa∣ded, to forsake Caesar and serue thée. Howbeit, the more con∣stantly hee despised his life, so mutch the more easly hee ob∣tained it. For Antonius pardoned his life for his vertuous sake. Frontinus in the fourth booke and first chapter of his war∣like pollicies, reporteth, that when Flaccus and Varro were Consuls then were Knightes first dubbed, and admitted vnto that order by an othe, for before they were gouerned by the Tribunes. The tenour of their othe was after this sorte, that they would neuer departe one from another, nor breake their aray in the field, vnlesse it were either to recouer their wea∣pon or to strike the enemie, or to saue a citizen.

And our Knightes, saith Helinandus, march forth into the warres as it were to a wedding, for at Feastes they talke of Armes, and in the tentes they speake of feastes. The arte of warrefare, saith Valerius, in the second booke and first chap∣ter, beeinge earnestly followed, brought the whole Empire of Italy in subiection to the Romanes. And gat them the soue∣rainity of many cities, puisant kings, and most valient king∣domes. That same opened vnto them the bosome of the sea, and broke vp the streights and passedges ouer the Alpes, and Mount Taurus, and deliuered them into their handes. And Clearchus, Captaine of the Lacedemonians, saith the same acthour, was wont to say often, beating it into the souldiours eares, that souldiours shoulde stande more in feare of their Captayne then of their enemies.

Chap. 7. Of Squyres.

VEgetius in the first booke and fourth chapter, saith, that the things which ar learned in childhoode are not learned very spéedely, but they ar retained very perfectly. And more∣ouer the nimblenes whiche beelongeth to a Souldiour, as in leapinge and runninge, is oftentimes to bee exercised, that the body waxe not vnweldye with age. For it is Swift∣nes and nimblenes, which are gotten with daylye exercise,

that make a good souldiour. For vnto him that is so trayned vp it shalbe no feare to encounter with any enemy, but ra∣ther a pleasure.

And agayne in the same woorke and thirde chapter hee sayth thus: I doubte not, saith hée, that anye man can bée of another opinion but that the common husbandman is fit∣test for the warres, that can abide to toyle in the sunne and open ayre, careth not for the shadowe, knoweth not the baynes nor hothouse, is ignorante of delicacies, plaine mea∣ninge, contente with a litle, able to abide all paynes, to beare armour, to ditche, or cast a trench, and of custome to carye greate burdeins, not fearinge the Sunne or the Dust. Wherfore, meeseemeth wee must for the most parte take all our force out of the countrey, for mee thinkes hee must needes care lesse for death that neuer felt anye pleasure or sweetenesse in his life, and therfore such are to bee trayned vp in the warres.

Likewise in the first booke and first chapter, wee sée, saith hee, that the people of Rome conquered al the world be none other meanes then by exercise of the minde, by disciplyne of the fielde, and dayly practise of Chiualrye, whereby they rose to that greatnes. And when wee choose newe souldi∣ours, wee must choose nimble men, and furnishe them with daylye practise, for the knowledge of the order of the warres maketh a man bould to fight. For no man wilbee a fearde to do that which hee knoweth that hee hath learned to do perfectlye. And when they come to the battayll, the small bande that is well trayned, is most like to haue the victorye. The rude and vnskilfull multitude lieth alwayes open vnto slaughter.

And Frontinus in the fourth booke, & second chapter, writeth thus: Alexander Kinge of Macedonia, saith hee, with a fewe souldiours well trayned, which his father Phillip left behinde him, setting vpon the whole worlde: slew innumerable ar∣mies of his enemies.

Chap. 8. Of warriours.

AS the noble Philosopher Aristotle writeth, in the seventh of his Politickes, many cities haue flourished by makinge warre, but when they had once obtained the soueraintye; through peace they fell to decay, as iron gathereth rust with lyinge still. Valerius in the second booke, and sixt chapter, writeth, that Laelius Atticus Dentatus was an hundreth and twentie times in batteill, vnto which hée alwaies went with sutch courage of minde and force of body, that hée séemed euer to presume of the victory. The same aucthour also reporteth that there was one which cut of the fingers of his left hand, bicause hée woulde not goo into the Italian warre. Then by the decrée of the Senate his goodes were openly solde, and him selfe cast into perpetuall prison, enforcinge him to yéelde vp that ghost most lothsomly in cheines, which hee refused vali∣ently to venture in the fielde. Frontinus in the first booke, and ninth chapter reporteth, that one Seruius béeinge a younge man, and present in the batteill which kinge Tarquinius faught against the Sabines, perceiuinge those that were a∣bout the Standards to fight very slowly: snatched away one of the Standards and thrue it amongst the middes of the ene∣mies. To recouer which, the Romans fought so sharply: that they obtained both standard, and victory. Hée telleth more∣ouer of Macillius which was Consul, and at the warre which the Romans made against the Samnites, who perceiuinge the souldiours fleeing out of the batteill towardes their tentes: bent the force of his owne band which hee led, against them: swearing, that hee would fight against good Citizens if they would not fight against their enemies, and by that meanes brought them all again into the batteill.

Chap. 9. Of Philosophers, and Oratours.

ARchitarentinus in the sixt booke, writeth, that when on a time Aristippus the Socration Philosopher being throwē into the sea by shipwrack was cast a lande at the shoare of Rodes, and found there certain Geometricall figures and de∣monstracions

drawne in the sandes: hee cried aloud ioyfully vnto his Mates, let vs bée of good cheere Mates (quod hee) for I see heere the foote steppes of men. And foorthwith hee en∣tred into the citie of Rhods, where disputing in their scholes with professours of Philosophy, hee was rewarded with ma∣ny costly gyftes, wherwith hee not onely appayrelled him∣selfe, but also al that were with him, and bore their charges sufficiently for meat and drinke. And when his Mates, being willing to returne into their owne cuntrey, demaunded of him what seruice hee would commaunde them home: tell my cuntrey men (quod hée) that I wish they should prepare sutch possessions and inheritances for their children, as if they chā∣ced to escape shipwrack, might escape with them, and not be taken awaye neither by violence of conquest, neither by change of fortune, nor by any other aduersitie. Behold héere a Philosophicall and holsome document, moouing men more to the study of learning and wisdome, then to heaping vp of Monye. In the olde time when cities weare in peace, sayth Eustacius vpon the first booke of the Ethickes, the noblemen and politick gouerners, prouided of the common charge, for sutch as were studentes in Philosophy, that they should bee voide of all cares and troubles, and onely applye themselues vnto contemplacion. Hermes surnamed Trismegistus in his second booke of Constellacions, reporteth that Politinus the Philosopher, béeing, as it were, made vnto all ornamentes of vertue, to the intent hee might expresse that which he taught by his owne example, and not by any others, and to a void all the insultes of Fortune: chose him a secret place of rest, where hée was far from the trouble of humane conuersation onely béestowing his time in diuine contemplacions. And first hee contemned all titles of honour, accoumpting those to bée the true honours which by perfection of wisdome hée had gotten. Hee coueted after no worldly thing, but iudged that to bee the true ritches, namely whereby a garnished minde may finde out the originall of it owne aucthoritye. Aristotle in the Secrets of secrets, asketh th•••• question, what (sayth hee)

hath so aduaunced the Empire of the Gréekes to bée perpetu∣ally renowmed ouer all the world? Surely that did the dily∣gence of students, and the vertue of the wisemen which lo∣ued knowledge, and science aboue all measure.

Aulus Gellius in his booke of the Nightes of Athens, wri∣teth, that it is one of the greatest poincts of commendacion which was in Phillip kinge of Macedonia, father vnto Alex∣ander the Great, that hée caused him whom hée thought should bée his heier, to bee deliuered in charge vnto the most excel∣lent Philosopher Aristotle, to bee instructed in wisdome, and learning. And, saith Seneca, in that world, which men cōmon∣ly call the golden world, Posidonius affirmeth that wise men gouerned kingdomes, these contayned their handes from o∣thermens goodes, and defended the weake from the more mighty, they perswaded men from dishonesty vnto honesty, and through their wisdome they declared what was profita∣ble, and what otherwise.

Chap 10. Of Phisicions.

ISidorus in the third chapter of his Etimologies, writeth, that Apollo is reported to bee the first finder out of Phisicke a∣monge the Gréekes. Which his Sun Esculapius broughte more into the light, who was strickē with a tempest of light∣ning and so died, and by that meanes both the art and the au∣thour perished together, and lay vnknowne the space of fiue-hundred yéeres, vnto the time of Artaxerxes king of the Per∣sians, at what time it was reuiued agayne by Hippocrates, sunne to As••ulapius.

Valerius writeth, that when Alexander kinge of Maced••∣nia fell sick at Tharsis, Phillip the Phisition made him a po∣tion with his owne handes, and ministred it vnto him. For this Phillip was both an Earle, and a Phisition. And while hée was thus attendant vpon the kinge, there were certen letters receiued and opened, written to this effect, That the king should take heede of Phillip, as one of corrupted by Darius to poison him. But so soone as the king had read the letters,

without any staying hée dranke of the Medicine, and deliue∣red them vnto Phillip to read, for whiche good opinion of his trustie friende and Phisition, hée receaued of the Gods an immortall reward. Howbeit I wote very well, that Quin∣tus Cur••ius in the hystorie of Alexande•• the great, telleth this storie otherwise, namely, how that Alexander returnynge from Babilon, and spendyng longe time in rest and idlenesse, hée renued the solemnitie of Feastynge and Banquettinge, whiche of longe time hée had omitted, and thus in a ioylitie hée spent an whole day and a night, when Thessalus his phi∣sition inuited him and his companions agayn to drinkynge a fresh. And takyng the Pot in his hand, when hee had drunk, as it were, half a draught, hée suddenly stayde in the middes and cried out: and his friendes reported that same to be the cause of his death. But the trueth is, there was Treason wrought agaynst him, the infamie whereof was couered by the punishment of his successours. And in déede Antipater was chéeif of the conspiracie, and gaue the poyson vnto him. Thus died Alexander in the xii. yeère of his reygne, his trai∣trous nobles falsly accusinge his faithfull Phisition of poy∣sonyng him.

Chap. 11. Of youngemen.

MAcrobius in his fourth booke of Saturnalia, reporteth, how that Papirius when hée was but a childe, came into the counsel court with his Father. And when he returned home, his mother demaunded of him what his Father had doone or sayd in the Senate counsel. The child answered, that he might not tel. But when his Mother threatned to beate him vnlesse he would declare it: immediatly he deuised a fine & pleasant lye to stop his mothers mouth withal, saying, y^t it was dispu∣ted in the Counsel house, whether it were more expedient for man to haue two wiues, or for a woman to haue two husbās. This news told she immediatly vnto other Matrōs & gossips of hir acquaintā••e. And y^e next day there came a great flock of them to y^e Counsel house, desiring y^e honourable ass••̄bly, y^e one womā might rather haue .ij. husbands, then one mā .ii. wiues

The Senatours wondringe at that strainge request: meruey∣led at their so vnreasonable, and dishonest importuniti. Then the childe resolued the Senat of that doubt, she winge them what hee had tolde his mother. The Senate imbraced the childes wit and faithfulnes, and made an Act, that heareafter there should no children come into the Senate with their fathers, but hee onely.

Valerius also in the sixt Booke and fift Chapter, writeth of Manlius Torquatus, y^t while he was yong: he was of so blunt and dul a wit, that his father iudgeing him neuer like to bee profitable member to gouerne in the common wealth, sent him into the cuntry to follow husbandry. But afterward hee deliuered his father from danger of iudgment. And likewise his cuntrey in the tumult among the Latines, which was wel∣nigh consumed in the conflict, and obtayned therefore a most excellent triumph. I suppose, saith Valerius, that he was im∣based with this blemish of Fortune in his youth, wherby the excellency of his old age might appeare more bewtifull.

And againe in the same place he saith, Scipio surnamed Af∣fricane, whom the Gods would haue to be borne to the intent all vertue should be effectually expressed vnto men in him, is reported to haue spent thriftely his younger yeares, but far∣thest of all other from suspicion of lasciuious dissolutnesse.

And this also saith he, hath Fabius Maximus pu••••••ased vnto his posteritie, that there was neuer any of better fame then hee while he was young, neither did our Citie of Rome euer bring foorth one that in his age was of greater honour and estimacion.

Chap. 12 Of olde Men.

TRogus Pompeius in his second Booke, writeth of Alexander the great, that on a time when hee was goinge foorth in a daungerous expedition: he leuied his armie not of Cutters and lusty youthes, but of such antient souldiours as had serued his father and his cuntry in foretimes, to the intent hee might haue no common soldiers, but rather teachers of Chi∣ualrie about him. Hee made no Captaines but men of thrée∣score

yéere olde, so that no man thought of fléeing, but of haue∣yng y^t victory. And Valerius speaking of the old Romanes, ssith in those daies yong men honoured old age, as though all olde men had bin their fathers. Cicero in his Booke of old age, re∣porteth, that in a certen controuersie when Pisistratus the ti∣rant demanded of Solon, for what cause he durst resist him so boldly, he answered, because of mine olde age.

Iosephus in the first booke of Antiquities: Let no man (saith hée) thinke that to be false which is written concerninge the long liuing of our forfathers in the old time. For in respect of their vertues, and the singular profits which they deuised for mankinde, as are the Artes of Geometrie, Astronomie, and such like: GOD inlarged the tearme of their life, for else they could neuer haue come vnto that perfection in them. It is read in the Cronacles, that about the yéere of our Lorde a thousand an hundred twentie nine, Ioānes de temporibus which liued in the time of Charles the Maine, and whose Squire hée was, died.

Papius in the beginning of his Romane historie, writeth that the same Romulus which builded the Citie of Rome, and cal∣led it after his owne name, chose into his counsell an hundred Senatours whose aduice hee might vse in all matters, whom by reason of their yéeres, and for the likenes of the charge, he called Fathers.

Chap. 13 Of Citizens.

ARistotle in the third booke of his Politickes defineth a Citie after this maner. A Citie (saith he) is an vnitie of those that be like, méeting together to liue in happy societie. And felicitie is a certen treasure surpassing all other thinges, and the very exercise of all vertues. And these be the things with∣out which there can be no Citie, for why the lyfe of man re∣quireth many necessaries. The first is foode, then Arts, next weapons to subdue the disobedient: the fourth store of mony: the fift instructions in religion whom they call Priestes: the sixt a company of Judges to confer togeather what is right and what not, & if any of these be lacking it is no perfect city.

And therefore there must néedes bee Husbandmen to pre∣pare Victuales, Handycrafts men, Warriours, ritchmen, Priestes and iudges. And moreouer (he saith) whoso hath abi∣lytie to participate or communicate, that is to geue or take counsell, to rule or to bee ruled: the same is a perfecte Citizen.

Likewise Citizens ought to agrée and not to fall out, for as saith Orosius in the second Booke of his Orchmestra, the most wise Citizens of Athens, beinge taught by their owne harmes, haue said that smal things grow greater by concord, and great things are destroyed by disagréement, and whatso∣euer was done well or yll in their Commonwealth, their Domesticall contention at home, and their continuall war∣ringe abroade subuerted all, wheerby they left to their pos∣terytie an example of ruine with small hope of recouery, but yet a most certen lesson to learne, that it is good to folow that counsell in prosterytie, which seemeth best vnto vs when we were in aduersitie.

Vitarbius in his worke of Architecture or Building, writeth that the Temple of Mars was builded without the walles of the Citie, because their should be no bloudy dissention among the Citizens, but their force should serue them to defend their walles in time of warre.

Chap. 14 Of Marchantes.

ƲAlerius in his seuenth Booke and fourth chapter, maketh mencion of one Claudius Centimmalus, who hauinge an House standinge very high vpon the top of the hill Celius in Rome: was commaunded by the Colledge of Southsayers, to take downe sumwhat of the height therof, for that it hindred sumdeale the perfect view of their Southsayinge. But hee immediatly solde it vnto Calphurnius Lauarius. Then Cato beinge a man of greate integritie, condempned the sel∣ler in the law, for that hée toulde not faithfully to the byer

both the commodities and discommodities like to ensue of the purchase, whiche hee ought to haue doone.

Lykewyse, the same Aucthour in the fyrst Booke and se∣cond Chapter, writeth, how that in the Prenestine Siege it fortuned that one which cought a Mouse, sould him to an∣other for two hundred Pence, sutch was the scarcytie of victuales there. But it chaunced not longe after that hee whiche sould it dyed for hunger hymselfe, and he that bought it escaped a liue. The lyke Example is reported by Fron∣tinus, of the Casseline Siege.

Aristotle in the first of the Politickes writeth, that vpon a time a certen man reprochfully cast Millesius in the teeth that hee was a Begger, as though Phylosophie were a know∣ledge vnprofitable to it selfe, and in no respect benificiall to the Professours thereof. Then Millesius perceyuinge by the iudgement of Astronomie, that the next yeare there woulde bee but verye fewe Oliues, in the Winter while there was great stoare hee gaue Monye in earnest vnto the Fruiterers and Maisters of Gardeines in Miletum and Ty∣rus, vpon a price for all their Oliues the yeare following, as though hee distrusted not but that there woulde be great stoare. But when the tyme came, and there were indeéde but fewe, and manie called for them, hee soulde them all suddain∣lye togeather, makynge what price hee lyst, and by that meanes gatheryng a great summe of Monie, declared there∣by how easie a matter it is for Phylosophers to bee rytch when they lyst, but Ritches is not the thing that they séeks for.

In the same place it is also set downe that in the Ile of Sicil a certayne Marchaunt suddaynlye bought vp all the Iron that was there aboute, or that was to bee gotten out of the Mines. Afterwarde there came strainge Marchauntes vnto the Marte, and no man soulde Iron but hee onely, not mutch raysing the price, but of euery fiue Talentes hee gay∣ned tenne Pence, reseruing vnto himself a compotent profit.

But Dionisius the Tyrant tooke his goodes from him, and would not suffer him (as a finder out of wealth, which thinge was mutch against his profit) to dwel any longer in siracusis. For as the expositour saith vpon that place, tyrants may not abide to haue their subiectes ritch.

Chap. 15. Of husbandmen and Husbandrie.

IN the commendacion of husbandry, Orosius in the seuenth booke saith, that in the thrée hundred fourescore and eleuen yéere, after the building of the citye of Rome, Quintus Cinci∣natus, which was Distator, was found in the cuntrey, and ta∣ken from the plough, and taking the honoure vpon him, and mustering his Armye: obtained a great conquest ouer his e∣nemies. And Valerius writeth, that they which were sent vn∣to Astilius to come take the whole gouerment of the army vp∣on him, found him in the fieldes going after the plough tayll, sowing of corne. Howbeit those handes whiche were worne with exercise of husbandrye, established the sure welfare of the commonwealth, and vanquished hugie armies of raging enemies. And those handes which not longe béefore guided the yokes of the drawing Oxen, held then the reignes of the triumphant charret.

And Plinius in the xviii. booke of the historie of nature, it is the saying of Marcus Curius, saith hee, that thesame is a naughty Citizen, that cannot bee sufficed to liue with seuen acres of lande. What was the cause then that they had sutch plenty? Forsooth their generalles, and gouerners tilled the lande with their owne handes, and the grounde reioyced at a Laureat share, and a triumphant ploughman. And looke with what diligence they went into the warres: with thesame they tilled their fieldes. And ordred their land with as mutch care, as they did their Camps. Many times captaynes, yea, and whole Senates haue bin fet out of the cuntrey. And now bondslaues till thesame ground, and damned handes, and pro∣scribed countnances.

Valerius in the seuenth booke and tenth chapter, telleth of

Valerius Coruinus, how hée béeing an hundred yéere olde, and in good strength of bodye, left beehind him not onely a wished example of dealing in Publique functions, but also in tilling the land, and all maner husbandrie.

And Noble Cicero in the fifte of his offices saith, that a∣mong all trades, wherby a man may liue: ther is none to bee preferred beefore husbandrye, nothing sweeter, or more plen∣tifull, nor fitter for a gentleman.

Chap. 16. Of Handicraftes men.

ARistotle in his booke intitled secrets of secrets, sheweth of the wonderfull operation of the influence of y^e Planets in the natures of men and other things, by that which hapned vnto a childe the sunne of the kinge of India. For when the childe his sunne was growne to some yeeres, the king would haue had him brought vp in learninge, for which intent hee sent him throughout all India and other Prouinces adiacent, very honourably accompanied, as it was beesittinge for the sunne of sutch a Prince. But the fathers diligence profited him nothing at all, for why, the childes disposition could not bée brought vnto anye other thing, but to bée an handicrafts man. Wherwith the kinge beeinge mutch troubled in his minde, sent for all the wise men of his Realme to come vnto him, and when hee had told them that the cause why hée sent for them was to knowe their opinions, concerninge his sun: They answered him, that hée should applye him to that wher to he was most inclined, and so hée did. In the same place also hee telleth of a certen weauer that had a sunne, whose natiui∣ty foreshewed that hée should bee a greate wise man, full of graue counsell, and in fauour with Princes. And when his father would haue instructed him in his own art of weauing: hee could not learne it. Then did hee whip him, and beat him and gaue him vp vnto his owne will, and the b••y ioyninge himselfe vnto learned men, obtayned knowledge, and vnder∣standing of the heauenly motions, and of the gouerment of Princes, and at length was made one of the kinges Coun∣sellers

Macrobius telleth in the seconde of his Saturnalia, that when Augustus returned from the Acticane victory: amonge those that went to gratulate his returne, ther was one which caried a Chough whome he had taught to say: God saue thee Caesar our Empe. vanquisher of Antonius &: being likewise saluted by a Parrat, hee willed y^• they should both bebought. And wondring at the same in a Pie, commaunded that to bee bought also. Which thing a poore Cobler béeholding, taught a Crowe to speake in the same maner. And béeing ouercharged with cost, and séeing that his birde would not answere, was woont to say often, all my labour is lost, all my labour is lost. But at length when the birde had perfectly learned the salu∣tacion: hée offred her vnto the Emperour, who answered that hée had already enow sutch Birdes at home, which saluted him after that sort. Then the Crowe by chaunce remēbring the other speach which his Maister, mistrustinge his doci∣lity, had often times vttred: béegan to speake aloude before the Emperour saying: I haue lost my labour, I haue lost my labour, wherat Caesar laughed, and commaunded him to bée bought likewise.

Chap. 17. Of Ritch men.

AEMilius Probatus in his booke, of Captaines of forrein Na∣cions, telleth a storie of the Princes sunne of Athens, how meruelous liberall hée was, who hauinge fermes and grainges in many places of the cuntrey: hee neuer put anye kéepers ouer his corne or frutes, but suffred euery man to take what hée list, his seruants followed him with monie to giue away if any lacked immeadiatly, lest hée shoulde séeme to deney it by deferring it. If hee saw anye man ill apperrel∣led, hée woould giue him his owne clothes from his backe. Hee alwayes prepared great plenty of meat, that those whom hée found vnbidden in the stréets, he mighte haue them all home vnto his house, which hee did euery day and missed not. His credite, his helpe, his goods, neuer was failinge to any that had neede. He encritched many, and buried many poore

folke of his owne cost. Cecilius Balbus of y^e Philosophers toies, reporteth that Agathocles kinge of Sicilia said, that a man ought to vse plate of gold as hée would cuppes of clay, for it is far more better to shine in good maners, then in ritches. He vsed at his meales to dine and suppe in earthen vessels, and on a time when one demaunded of him the cause, hée answe∣red in this sort:

Of Sicil though I now bee Kinge, a Potter was my sier. Whoso to ritch and high estate shalt happen to aspire, Arising eft from base degree: vse fortune reuerently, And call to minde what was thy state beefore thou rose so by.

And therfore this kinge considering the basenes of his pa∣rentage, was content to féede in earthen vessel as other poore men are.

Valerius in his third booke, and fift chapter, reporteth that Marcus Curius, at what time the Ambassadours of the Samni∣tes came to speake with him, bid that they should come into him, wher they founde him sittinge vpon an euell fauoured fourme, very homely. Who merueiling at his pouerty, and deliuering vnto him a great summe of Mony which they de∣siered him to accepte and to vse it at his néede and pleasure: hée refused it, willing them to tell the Samnites, y^t Mar. Curius had rather rule ouer ritch men, then be ritch himself. And re∣member this, (quod hee) that I can neyther bee ouercome in batteill, nor corrupted with monie. The same aucthour like∣wise telleth of Frabricius, who was greater then any man in all the City in honour and aucthoritye, and match with the poorest in wealth and reuenue, who also sent backe vnto the Samnites many great giftes, in whose tuition and charge they were. Hee was ritch without mony, and kept a great family, for why, it made him ritch not to possesse mutch, but to desier sufficient.

Chap. 18. Of Poore men.

FRontinus in his fourth booke & first chapter telleth how that Scipio after y^e hee had atchiued notable exploits in Spaine,

writeth, that according vnto a law made by Seleucus against adultrie, his sunne, who was apprehended in the same, should haue lost both his eies. And when the whole City for the honour and duty which they bare to the father, deured that the punishment might bee remitted, long time refusing to bée intreated, but at length relenting at the peoples sute, first putting out one of his owne eies, and next one of his sunnes: notwithstanding fulfilled the whole punishment, de∣uiding himselfe, as it were, beetwéene a mercifull father, and a iust iudge.

In Policratus the fift booke, and second chap. it is set down, that when on a time there arose a certen controuersie bée∣tweene King Alexander and certen of his souldiours, and the kinge had the foyle in the field iudgment: hée thankefully ac∣cepted the iudgment, and gaue great thankes to the iudges, whose faith hee had experimented in preferring iustice, bée∣fore the respect of any Potentate.

Chap. 23. Of Lawiers.

AVlus Gellius in his Nightes of Athens, telleth an historie of a young man, who cumming to Pithagoras to be instruc¦ted in eloquence, promised him a great summe of mony for his paine to bee payd that day, when hee first pleaded cause beefore the Judges and obtained it. But when hee had well profited in the art, and would take the handlinge of no causes vpon him: Pithagoras conuented him beefore the iud∣ges, saying vnto him, now will I haue my reward, whether sentence go with thee or against thee. For if sentence go on shy side, then my rewarde is due: and if it go againste thee, then is it due also, for haue I iudgment on my side. The•• answered the schollar, vnderstand this mutch Maister (quod hee) if sentence go on my side then owe I nothinge vnto you by vertue of the sentence: and if it go against mee, then by our bargaine I owe you nothing bicause I preueill not, and am not well taught. Which controuersie the iudges percei∣uing to bee very litigious, and doubtfull, deferred the Matter

vnto a very long day, so that I iudge the case is not yet dis∣cussed. Heylinandus in his second booke of the institucion of Princes, telleth how on a time Demosthenes demaunded of Aristodius what reward hee had receiued to speake, who an∣swered, a Talent: and I, (quod Domosthenes,) had a more to hould my peace. Thus a man may see that some Lawiers tungues may do hurt vnlesse they bée tied with a siluer chein, and many times they sell aswel their silence, as their words. Valerius writeth in the seuenth booke and third chapter, howe that two men which were geastes in a house, brought certen mony and deliuered it vnto the goodwife with this promise, that shee should deliuer it againe vnto them both togither. And a good while after, the one of them came and deceiued the woman, requiringe the monie, and sayinge that his fellowe was dead, which she foorth with deliuered. Not long after the other came also, and demaūded the mony. Wherat the poore woman beeing in distresse: made the oratour Demosthenes of her counsel, who made this answere in her behalf. My friend (quod hee) this woman is redy to tender the mony, but shee may not pay it to you vnlesse your fellow come with you, for as you say, this was the agreement beetweene you, that it shuld not bee payd to the one of you without the other.

Cecilius Balbus in the place beefore recited, telleth of an aun∣cient souldiour of Rome, who on a time being in some daun∣ger beefore the iudges, beesought Caesar to come avrode into the court to helpe him. Vnto whom Caesar appointed a good lawier. Then the souldiour said, (O Caesar quod hee) when thou wast in danger in the Asiane warre I sought not a de∣puty, but I fought myself for thee, and there with all hee dis∣couered vnto him the skarres of the woundes which hee had receiued there for him. Immediatly Caesar sprang foorth and came to helpe him, fearing lest he might seeme not so mutch proud, as vnthankefull.

Chap. 24. Of great mens Bailiffes.

IOsephus in the thirtenth booke and twelueth chapter of An∣tiquities, writeth how that the Emperour Tyberius was

sumwhat hard and waiward in all his busines and affaires, and looke what Receiuers hee had appointed in Prouinces, hee seldome or neuer changed them. And beinge demaunded why hee did so: hee answered, bicause hee spared the poore people. For if the Receiuers knewe that they shoulde haue their office but short time, then would they sucke vntill the blood folowed, and how mutch the shorter time they shoulde bee in office: so much the more intollerable they would deale, and they that came new would destroy all that they founde. Which saying of his, hee confirmed by the example of a man that lay wounded by the way, in the Summer season, and would not haue the flies driuen away which were about the wounde. And one which came vpon the way, supposing that of weaknes hee had let them alone: draue them away. Ah, (sayd he) you haue done ill, for these flies were now full of blood and troubled mee but litle, and the freshe ones whiche come will sting mee more sharpely. Euen so new appoynted officers do pinche the commons more eagerly.

Aristotle in the Secretes of Secrets, writeth in this wise vnto Alexander: Neuer set sutch a Bailiffe to rule in anye place which wil bee corrupted with mony, for in so doinge thou shalt subuert thy realmes, and beesides thou canst re∣pose no assurance in sutch a one as gapeth after treasure, and commodity. For hee serueth thee for the golde, and giueth vp his sences vnto mony, and by pouling of others: seeketh to fill vp vp his bottomlesse bagges. And looke how mutch his mony increaseth so mutch the loue therof groweth, and per∣haps the loue of mony may induce him to y^e destruction of thy selfe, and thy kingdome. And shortly after in the same place, hee setteth downe fiftéene conditions generally to bee requi∣red when wee would get, or choose a Bailiffe. The same Auc∣thour likewise in y^e second booke of his Rethorickes, prouing that Procuratours, Rent gatherers, Bailiffes & Receauers ought not vpon small occasion to be chaunged, wher hee vseth for proofe Esops fable of the wounded Foxe goinge vpon the way, and the flies which sate vpon him and sucked his blood.

Then the Vrcheon comming by, & mooued with compassion would haue driuen them away. To whom said the Fox, do not so I pray you, for these are now full of blood, and if new should come they would molest mee more, as new Bailiffes and Stuewards doo.

Chap. 25. Of Frindes, and Frindship.

VAlerius in the fourth booke and fourth chapter, writeth of a paier of frindes, called Damon and Pithias, which were so faithfully linked in frindship, that when Di••nisius the ty∣rant would haue put one of them to death, and had giuen him respite before hée died to go home and dispose his goods in or∣der, the other of them doubted not to yéelde his life in pleadge for his frinde. And when the day of his returne approched, and hée was not yet came, euery man condemned this foolish suerty, of folly. Howbeit hée sayd, that hée doubted nothing of his frindes constancy. But at the verie same houer and mo∣ment when his friend should haue died in his stéede, hée came and offred himself•• to death. Whose frindship and constancy the tyrant wondring at: forgaue the punishment, and more∣ouer requested them to let him bee the third frind, and to re∣ceiue him into their constant band of amity.

Likewise the same Aucthour in the fift booke and ninth chapter, reporteth how that one Pretolius denyinge the re∣quest of a certen frinde of his, why then, quod his frind what néede haue I of thy frindship? Nay, (quod Pretolius) what néede haue I of thine, if I must do a dish••••est déede for thée? Tullie in his Booke of frindship writeth•• y^• when Tarquinius the proud was expulsed out of his kingdome, hée then vnder∣stoode who were his trusty frinds, and who vntrusti, when he could neither bée éeuen with them, nor requite their benefits.

Seneca also in the second of one of his woorkes, writeth y^t the philosopher Arthesius had two frindes, a poore man, and one that was sicke, but both of them for shamefastnes sake, dissē∣bled their frindshippe. Whiche thinge when the Philoso∣pher vnderstood: hée thought y^e hée ought to succour them with out shamefastnes, and that with spéede. He priuely put a bag

of mony vnder one of their Pillowes, the other not knowing thereof, that laying aside all foolishe and vnprofitable shame∣fastnes, his frinde might séeme rather to finde that which hée wanted, then to receiue that which hée asked.

Chap. 26. Of Kinsfolkes.

VAlerius writeth in the first booke and first chapter, that in the old time men were woont to make solemne feasts, which they called Caristia, whereat were none present but kinsfolke and alies, that if chance there were any controuer∣sie or breatch béetwéene any of them at that solemnitye, in that time of making mery, the matter might bée proposed, and heard, and frindly ended.

Likewise hée writeth in the eight booke, that whē Decius the Generall or Emperour for the time, would haue set the imperial Diademe vpon his sun Decius head, hée refused it, saying, I feare mee least when I am Emperour I leaue to be a sun, rather let my father haue the gouernment, and let it bée my dignity to be obedient vnto him.

Moreouer in the fift booke and fift chapter, hee telleth of Cesetius▪ who beeing commaunded by Caesar, the conquerour both of all abroade, and at hom, to banishe his sunne for that hée had ministred some occasion of distruste that hee affected the kingdome, answered him saying: truly Caesar (quod hee) thou shalt sooner take all my sunnes from mée, then I will send away one of them at thy commaundement. Sée what great bouldnes this was, that hée would not yéeld vnto him to whom all the world was in subiection. Likewise the same aucthour in the fourth chapter writeth, that on a time the Praetor deliuered a malifactour, which was a woman, borne of a good family, vnto the Jailer to bée executed in the prison, who béeing mooued with compassion towards the wo∣man, put her not to death immediatly, but gaue leaue vnto her daughter to come vnto her, lookinge vnto her that shee should bring her mother no foode, to thintent hee might kill her by famine. And when certein daies were past, meruey∣ling how she liued so long, in the ende hée perceiued how the

louing daughter reliued her mothers hunger with the milke of her brests, which strange fact being reported to the Coun∣sell, procured the womans pardon. For what will not loue & duty finde out? and what is so rare to be séene, as the daughter to giue the mother suck? A man would thinke that it were a∣gainst nature, vnlesse it were the first and principall lawe of nature, to loue our parentes.

chap. 27. Of good Weemen

A Good Woman ought first of all, to set light by temporall goodes: touching which poinct Valerius, in the fourth booke and first chapter telleth the story of Cornelia, which was mo∣ther vnto y^e Gracchi: the same vpon a time receiued into her house of gestred a gentlewomā of Campania, who shewed her very beutifull Jewels and ornaments, which she had in store made according to the fashion in those daies, but she gaue her a quip for it: For when her children came home from schoole, and al these be my iewels & ornaments, quoth Cornelia. For truly, who so coueteth nothing, hath althing, & in greater assu∣raunce then he that hath mutch goods in possession. And since worldly goods are but casuall, yet are the vertues of y^e minde sutch as are subiect vnto no misaduentures of Fortune. Se∣condly she ought to ouercome all carnall desire. Touching which poinct, Orosius writeth in his fift Booke, that when the Germanes were ouercome by Marius, their weemen with a more constant courage then if they had bin the conquerours, desired the Consul that he would saue their virgins liues vp∣pon condition y^t they might preserue their chastyty, and be re∣serued to minister vnto the Gods. But when they could not obtaine so much of him: they dashed the braines of their yong children against the stones and hanged themselues. Thirdly she ought to preserue her loyaltie, & the tokens of her goodwill towards her husband, whereof Valerius writeth in his fourth booke and fift chapter, that at what time the Spartanes kepte certen Lacedemonians in prison, whom they deteined there to put them to death, their wiues being wéemen of noble blood, came thither, and desiring to speake with their husbands be∣fore

they were executed: obtained licence of the Gailer to go into the Prison vnto them. And when they were gone in they exchanged their apparel with their husbands, and so the men departed out of the prison in their wiues atyre, muffled, as though they had couered their faces for grief & heauines. Moreouer a woman ought to geue her husband good counsell.

The like example as touchyng the force herof, is by Seneca set foorth, shewyng y^t when Augustus the Emperour of Rome bethought him how he might reuenge himself on one whiche sought his death, the Empresse aduised him that he should fol∣low the trade of all good Phisitions, who séeyng that they can not preuayle with Medicines of the same qualitie with the disease, apply the contrary. Wherfore sayd she, séeynge that you cannot preuayle by seueritie, proue to win by gentlenes, which hée did willyngly, and tooke effect.

Chap. 28. Of wicked Women.

ORosius in his first booke of the woork before alleaged, setteth it downe, that when Ninus kyng of the Assyrians was dead his wife and Quéene Semiramis reygned in his stéede, bloud∣dely embruing the kyngdome with slaughter the space of .xly. yéeres. The same burnyng in lust, and thirstyng bloud, amōg so many horrible murders and abominable whoredomes, ha∣uyng quatted her gréedy desier with so many whorish deuises and strange maners of couplyng, at length hauyng conceaued a sonne by shamefull dealyng, and nourishing him vp by vn∣godly meanes, and hauing had with him incestious medling, she sought to couer her priuate shame with publique wicked∣nesse. For she gaue forth in cōmaundement that there should be no sutch reuerence nor respect betwéene parents and chil∣dren, nor no discretion vsed in taking of wiues or obseruinge of matrimonie, but in that point it should be lawfull for euery man and woman to take whom they lusted. S. Ierome wry∣ting against Iouinianus, reporteth that the wife of Sylla was a common woman, or as they terme them a good fellow. And likewise Pompeius that ouercame welnigh the whole world,

had an incontinent Lady to his wife. Cato also which was cal∣led Censorinus, married a very baggage of a meane parentage, yet was she a shrew and a whore, and that more strange is, proud and saucy to her Lord and husband.

Iustinus the abridger of Torgus Pompeus writeth, that when Grippus which was sun to Deme. had recouered his Fathers dominions, & had quite ended al forrein dangers, he was after∣ward assaulted by y^e treason of his owne gréedy mother. Who for the desire that shee had to reigne hauing betrayed one of her sunnes and by that horible déede puttinge of all motherly affection, supposed now that her dignitie and honour was mutch embased by the conquest and renowme of her other child. Wherefore vpon a time she watched opportunity, and preparing a cup of deadly poyson, presented him therewith when he came hot and thirsty from exercise. But her attempt tooke contrary effect. For Grippus, as it were offeringe duty∣full courtesie to his mother, desired her to begin vnto hym. At the last he vrged her so far, that he found out great proofes of her purpose, wherewith the Quéene béeing ouercome, and turning the mischeif vnto her self, died with the poysoned po∣tion which she had prouided for her sunne.

Chap. 29 Of maried Weemen.

ƲAlerius writeth in the fourth booke and third Chapter, that when Iulia, who was daughter vnto Caesar & wife to Pom∣peius the great, beehelde her Lorde and Husbandes Gowne brought home all bloody out of the féelde, beinge stroken with sudden feare that some violence had befallen vnto him, fell downe in a swonde and was delyuered of Childe beefore her time, not with out great losse and detriment of the whole Empire.

And Cecilius Balbus in the place before recited, writeth a storie of a certen man whose name was Damelius, to whom a companion of his obiected that he had a stinking breath. Thē departed he home vnto his Wife discontented, & chiding with her for not telling him therof before. Thē his wife said surely

I would haue done so (quod she) but y^t I thought that al men•• breathes had smelt in that sorte, and therfore very like it is that shee had neuer ioyned her mouth vnto any other mans.

Valerius also writeth in the sixt booke, and third chapter, of Tercia Emilia the wife of Scipio African, whose singuler good will and pacience toward her husband was so great, that per∣ceininge that her Lorde bare good affection vnto one of her Handmaides: she dissembled the matter and would not see it, for that she would not séeme to suspect or blame her Lorde of incontinency, or to moue him to impaciencie which was con∣querour of the worlde. Yea after her Husbands decease, shee made her handmaid frée, and bestowed her in mariadge with one of her frée men.

Lykewise Sulpitia was most diligently kept by her mo∣ther Iulia, because shée should not follow her husband Lentulus into Italy, who was proscribed and condemned to dye. How∣beit she chaunged her atire, and put one the garment of a ser∣uaunt, and taking with her two Handmaides, and two men, stole away secretly vnto him, not refusing to banish her selfe, that her faith might be knowne to her condemned husband.

Chapter. 30. Of good widowes.

THe word Vidua which signifieth a Widow, soundeth as it were Diuisa, that is to say, one that is deuided and parted fom her Husband. And Valerius writeth in the first booke & first chap. that in the old time those wéemen y^t were contented with one husband & once marrying, were crowned w^t a Gar∣land of chastyty, supposing that the tasting of many and often wedlockes, was a token of a certen kinde of intemperancy.

Saint Ierome in his woorke against Iouinianus reporteth that when Catoes Daughter had mourned foure wéekes for the death of her Husband, a certen Matron demaunded of her when she would make an ende of mourning? who answered, when she made an ende of lyuing.

Likewise y^e same Aucthour in his booke de Anima, writeth o••her, that when on a time a frind of hers perswaded her to

marry another husband since she was yet but young, and her beuty fresh & flouring: she answered that she would not: For, said she, if I chance to finde as good an husbād as I had before, I will not stand in feare to léese him: but if hee bee éeuel, what néede I to trouble myself with sutch an one? And agayne in the same place, when one in the presence of Porcia, praysed a certen woman which had buried one husband and Married the second, she answered, that a good and an honest woman neuer marrieth but once. And semblably Valeria which was sister vnto the Messalas, after the decease of her Husbande would neuer marry agayn, and béeing demaunded the cause, she answered that her husband alwaies liued vnto her. Arthe∣misia also which was Quéene and wife vnto Mausolus kinge of Caria, although in respect of her fidility towards her hus∣bands shée bee singularly commended, yet is she most praysed for that shee loued her Husbande alwayes as deerely when hee was dead, as if hee had bin liuing: and in the honour of him shee builded a most bewtyfull and renowmed Sepul∣cher, in so mutch that thereof all greate and sumptuous Sepulchers are called Mausolea, that is to say, like Mausolus monument.

Chap. 31. Of Virgins.

COncerning Virgins, Saint Ierome writeth against Iouini∣anus, that it appeareth in how great honour virgins were had among the people of Rome, for asmutch as Consuls and generalles of Armes sitting in their triumphat chariots whē they returned home with conquest ouer their enemies, and finally all kinde of degrees were accustomed in meetinge them, go out of the way, and giue them place. Nichanor when hee had ouercome and subuerted the City of Thebes, was ta∣ken in the loue of a captiue virgin. And desiringe her imbra∣cinges and company in the commendable lawe of wedlocke, which thing a captiue might well haue liked of, hee found by triall that vnto chast mindes virginity is more deare then a kingdome. Whom the louer when shee was slayne held in

his owne hand, lamenting his owne greif, and her most mi∣serable condition. Seneca in his sixt booke of declamacions reporteth that a vestale virgin wrote these verses folowing:

O happy married wiues, your life is fraught with ioy, For that I may not taste your state, I die in great anoy.

Against which, there was alleaged an answere in this sort:

As one that tried hast a man, thou yeeldest vp the ghost, Or diest bicause thou art denide the thing thou couetst most,

both which thinges ought to bée farthest from a woman of that cote. For vnto thée the Magistrates do cast downe their faces in token of reuerence, vnto thée the Consuls and Pre∣tors giue the vpper hande in the stréetes, and it is no small callinge to bee both a virgin and a priest: and that which hath bin spoken with so great affection that it seemed to procéede frō the very hark & intrailes must needes bee true, that what woman soeuer wisheth the act, euen without the act doing is an harlot. Valerius in the seuenth booke and third chapter, writeth of a certen vestale virgine in Rome called Tuccia, whose chastity beeing obscured with a sinister report of in∣continency, and shee her selfe beeing priuy of her owne inno∣cency, tooke into her handes a siue, and thus prayed vnto the goddesse Vesta, saying: Vesta, if I haue alwayes touched thy sacrifices with chaste and vndefiled hands, commaund that I may take water out of the riuer Tyber with this Siue, and cary it into thy Temple. Which indeede shee accomplished, the common course of Nature giuing place to her boulde at∣temptes.

Likewise Saint Ierome in the place béefore alleaged, wri∣teth of another vestale virgin named Claudia, who béeinge suspected that shée had playd the harlot, and at that presente the Image of the mother of the Gods stuck fast in the Oase of Tyber in a shippe, to giue example therfore of her integri∣ty, it is reported how shee tied her girdle vnto the shippe and that shée drew it so away, more thē many thousand men were able to accomplish.

And, Saynt Augustine in his woorke de ciuitate Dei, wri∣teth that the antient Romanes were wount to bury aliue the vestale virgins that were corrupted, and whatsoeuer other Wéemen were taken in adultrye, they were one way or an∣other punished, but none were put to death: supposinge it méete to punish more seuerely the breach of a deuine vowe, then of humane chastity. And thus as I iudge I haue runne ouer all sortes of men with whom a man may happen to bée conuersant with all at the table.

FINIS.

¶The third Booke of Table Phylo∣sophy, which containeth certen de∣lectable and pleasant Questions, to be pro∣pounded while wee be at meate, or at any other time.

The Preface.

NOw, since we haue already breifly intreated concerning the manners and behauiour of those, with whom wee may chaunce to be accompanied at the table, next it remaineth that with like breuity we run ouer certen pleasant questions of table talke. For as witnesseth Macrobius in his first booke of Saturnalia: A well nurtered minde can∣not solace it felfe with more profit or seemelines, then in ta∣king opportunity to dispute and demaund questions after a learned and vertuous manner, and if neede be to answer with courtesy, and men cannot question of any thing with greater delight then of matters of learning. And therfore as saieth, the same Macrobius in the third booke, the first thing which we ought to obserue at the table is to weigh the estimation

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and callinge of euery geast, and the next to take occasion when he seeth it offred to speake, not to poure forth our own secretes amonge the cuppes, neither yet to minister crabbed and vnpleasant talke, but rather profitable and delightsome Questions.

¶The first Chapter containing fiue seuerall Questions.

FIrst therefore and foremost, this may bee demaunded: whether that the Aier or Meate bee more necessarie for the pre∣seruation of the lyfe of Manne? And it sée∣meth of the twayne that Meate is more ne∣cessary, since that is more necessarie whiche supplyeth that substaunce whiche is lost, and whiche may be a member or part of a member of the bodie, of whiche na∣ture is our Meate according to the assertion of Auicen. But indeede Constantinus is of the contrary opinion, sayinge, that Aier is more necessary, to the body, prouing the same both by Reason, and experience. By Reason thus: Life consisteth in naturall heate, because naturall heate is the beginninge of lyfe, wherfore that thinge which tempereth naturall heate, retayning it in the naturall temperature is more necessary, but the Aire which by way of breathinge wee drawe in, is of sutch sort: wh••rfore it is more necessary. By experience thus: If a man be suddenly brought out of a stinkinge close prison, first he desi••eth to take the fresh Aier, and afterwarde calleth for Meate, and Drink. But against the reason first alleaged it may bee answered negatiuely, for lyfe consisteth in two points, the one is a beginning sumwhat far of, as restoringe that which is lost, and the conseruation of all the members and parts. In respect of which, the nourishing of natural heat

is most necessarie, whiche is immedyatly and principally maintained by the qualities of the Aire. And therefore Aier is more necessary to the preseruacion of lyfe, for that it respe∣cteth the life principally and immediatly.

Secondly, it may be demaunded which of the two, Meate, or Drynke, is more necessarie vnto life? To this may bee an∣swered that Meate is, although that Drinke bee commonly more desired then Meate. The reason of the first is, that that is more necessary which restoreth the thinge whiche is lost, then that which serueth onely to conuey the iuce about al the body. But Meate is ordained to restore the parts, and Drink to cary the meate about the body: wherfore the conclusion is manyfest. And that Drink is more gréedely desiered: the rea∣son is, for that drink delayeth the vehemency of natural heat, in which respect it is more necessary vnto lyfe then Meate, as is y^e Aier also. Thus Drinke hath two offices, first it conueieth the Meate vnto all partes of the body, and so is Meate a thing more necessary then drink. Secondly, it mitigateth the natu∣rall heate, and preserueth it in the iust temperature, and is therby more necessarie then meate. Wherfore any lyuinge creature can longer liue without meate, then drinke.

Thirdly, this question may be demaunded: Wether euel Aier or euell Meate do more hurt the bodye? Whereunto it may be absolutely answered, that éeuell Aier hurteth more, for, that it is more noisome vnto the hart, which is the fown∣taine of Naturall heat, and of the spirites. Howbeit wee may vse a distinction herein, that a thinge may do harme af∣ter diuers manner of wayes. Fyrst, if it touche some noble and princypall part, and the other thing do not so. Secondly, if it alter it often times and it cannot otherwise be avoyded. Thirdly, if it touch it immediatly. And by these three meanes éeuill Aier hurteth more then éeuell Meate. For it touch∣eth a principall parte, and it is often drawne in, and it tou∣cheth the part immediatly. Fourthly, a thinge may hurte the more, because it maketh a stronge impression. Fiftly, if it continnue there longe, and cleaue longe time vnto the

••••••ber. And by these last meanes, corrupt meate eaten a∣•••••• more then naughtie Aier drawne in.

••••urthly, this demaund may be moued: Whether Meate ••••••pe do more comfort the bodye? It may bee answered, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lack of Meat doth more gréeue the body then lack of sléep, and therby concluded that Meat is more necessary then sléep. And the reason is this, for y^e sléepe restoreth not that which is lost, neither appeaseth the vehemency of natural heate from woorking vpon the natural moisture, which being consumed, then death is at y^e dore, which meat doth: wherfore it is more necessary. Moreouer, there be thrée powers, the Vitall, Natu∣rall, and Animall. The Animall is not so mutch appertayning vnto the substaunce and effecte of lyfe, as the other two are. Wherfore, nutriment which belongeth vnto the Natural and Vitall faculties: is more néedefull then sléepe, which belong∣eth vnto the Animall vertue onely.

Fiftly, it may come into question: whether the Aier or Meat do more nourish the body? Vnto this may bée answe∣red, that there is some kinde of Nutriment which goeth into the substance of that which is Nourished, and is conuerted in to the same, and after this maner the most finest and subtilest partes of the meate is nutriment vnto the spirits, and not the Aier. Secondly, a thinge may bee termed a nutriment vnto the spirites, because it comforteth them, and thus wee call that the temperature or temperamēt of any thing which preserueth the same and nourisheth it, hauing some proporti∣on with that which is nourished. And in this manner, Aier nourisheth the spirites, refreshinge, and preseruing them in their naturall temperature. And this mutch concerning this Question.

The second Chapter containinge 12. Questions.

THe sixt Question mooueth this demaunde: Whether euell Meate can ingender good iuce? And accordinge vnto the o∣pinion of Haly super tegni, &c. It is answered that there may bee engendred good blood out of éeuell Meate, & contrarywise

also. The reason is this, good Meate may be éeuelly digested, and so therof become éeuell blood. And contrarywise, naughty meat well digested, and so conuerted into good blood. So y^t in euery kinde of meat, yea if it were of a venimous qualiti are found two natures. The one, wherein it is vnproportionable vnto the nature of the partes of the body, and by this meanes eeuel meat ingendreth éeuel iuce, and this is the proper effect which éeuel meate worketh. The .y. nature is wherby meats haue the qualitie to become proportionable vnto the partes & like vnto them, and in this sort naughtie meates may ingen∣der good iuce. For when Nature is stronge, she is able to re∣moue the other qualitie whiche is néerest vnto her, to wit in the same meate which is receiued, and when it is altered she bringeth it vnto her owne qualitie, and so of éeuel meate en∣gendereth good blood. And contrarywise, if Nature be weake and feable, she is not able to ouercome the meates, & to bring it vnto good effect, which of it self is of power to be conuerted into commendable nutriment, & therefore fayling for want: turneth good meate into éeuell iuce.

Seuenthly it may be demaunded: Whether a simple, or a compowned Meate be easiest of digestion? To this wee must answer with Dyasanus, as appeareth in y^e last of the Saturnalia that simple meate is the easiest. For cruditie and surfeit com∣meth two maner of waies, either by the qualitie or quantitie of the meate. By the qualitie, into which the meat is conuer∣ted if it be not agreeable vnto the rest of the humours of y^e bo∣dy, & by y^e quantitie therof, if ther be more receiued into y^e bo∣dy then nature is able to digest. Then, for as much as the di∣uersitie of meats hath diuersity of Natures, & some are soone digested and conuerted into iuce, whiles the harder lye boy∣lyng in the stomack: the first waxeth sower and vnprofitable and is perceiued by sower & euell sauouring belching, & there whiles that which is harder of concoction procureth gulping, & boyling in y^e belly, euen as gréene wood lieth smoking when it taketh heat of the fire. Besides that, the diuersitie of meats prouoketh gurmandize, & a desire to eate more then enough,

so that Socrates counselled very wiselye that men shoulde ab∣stayne from sutch meates as seeme to prouoke appetite when the belly is full, or to increase thirst, when a man hath drunken sufficient.

Eightly, it may bée demaunded whether it be good to walk immediatly after meate or not? And hereunto it is to bée an∣swered, that there is two sorts of Motions, or exercises. The one may bée termed a toyle, and that is not good after meate. The other is a kinde of walking either within doores, or a∣broad downe sum hill, wherof Isaac intreateth, and the same moderately driueth the me••te down vnto the bottome of the stomack, to the intent that ••••turall heate, which béefore was as it were a sléepe may bee awakened and stirred vp, which is requisite after meat.

Ninthly, some man may demaund whether it bee good to sleepe immediatly after meate or not? wherto I answere, that sléepe is not holsome while the stomacke is burdeined, for it procureth the meate to bée burned, as witnesseth Auicen, li•••• as the bread burneth when the Ouen is ouer heated, as also bicause it procureth the reume and payne in the head, wher∣fore most expediēt it were to deferre sléeping vntill the meat bée departed out of the stomack.

Tenthly, What is the cause that if a man stay lenger for meat then his accustome houre, hee leeseth his appetite? It must bée answered, that when the stomack hungreth and findeth no meat to worke vpon, it draweth éeuil humours from al parts of the body & feedeth vpon them, and is therby falsly and coū∣terfaitly satisfied, and so desiereth no more, wherfore in this case Rhasis giueth aduise, to drinke a draught of warmewater or tisane, wherby to prouoke the party to vomit if it may bée.

Eleuenthly, Are our bodies warmer beefore meat or after? Galen saith in his second booke of the summe of Phisick, that naturall heat is augmented thrée waies: either in quantity, as in applying swéete and warme furres, or the bellye of a young whelp vnto the stomack: or in quality by medicines, or ioyntly by both meanes in meates, and by this meanes the

body is warmer after meate then it was before.

Tweluethly: whether doth fasting hurt more a cholerick person or a flegmatick? I answere according to Hyppocrates, that it hurteth most a cholerick, the reason is, for that heate more aboūdeth in a cholerick persons stomack then in a fleg∣maticke so that the same heat consumeth more, and conse∣quently maketh him more to desire foode. Moreouer, fleame may be turned into blood, but choler can neuer, so that the flegmatick person containeth in his body the matter and sub∣stance of blood, and may therby the better satisfie the appe∣tite. As for the cholericke, he hath in him no sutch mattter, wherfore hunger is more grieuous vnto him then to the fleg¦matick, as experience in them both proueth to bée true.

The .iii. Chapter, conteinyng. x. questions.

NOw in this questiō i•• ••alleth out that many are desirous to vnderstand, what should bee the cause that many men are very hungrie, and looke when they sit downe to their meat, they are immediatly satisfied with a litle. Again, some haue but small appetite, and when they bee sit at their meate, they eate greedely: Whereunto wée must answere, that this chanceth according to the diuersity of stomackes. For some mens sto∣mockes are small & hot, and in y^t the stomak is hot desireth much, and in that it is small the heat disperseth soone the meat ouer all the capacity therof, and maketh a fantasticall fulnes, so that litle meat sufficeth sutch. Other some haue large stomackes and could, and in that their stomackes are cold, a litle meat filleth them, but in that their stomackes are large, they feede much and a long time.

Secondly: which of the twayne, those which haue a stronge heat or a weake, are able longest to abide hunger? Surely I sup∣pose that they which haue the stronger may fast longest, since for the more part sutch persons are of the stronger constitu∣cion. Howbeit this distinction is to be noted, that there bée two poincts to bée considered in fasting, to wit, y^e resolution of natural heat, & the vtter quenching of the same, & the strōgest nature is able best to sustaine them both. And secondly, the

discōmodities ar to be weighed which ensue fasting, of which the strongest nature sustayneth moe then dooth the weake.

Thirdly: how chanceth it that those whose powers be small and narrowe, can abide honger better then they which haue wi∣der? Bicause through wide and large pores, the body is more aboundantly resolued, & lesse through the narrowe and small pores, wherfore y^e remayneth which should prouoke appetite.

Fourthly: doth choler nourish or not? vnto this demaunde wee answere, that although Galen and Isaac say, that it nouri∣sheth not, bicause blood onely nourisheth: yet Auicen holdeth o∣pinion that choler nourisheth also, which two opinions of sin∣gular learned men, we must make to agrée after this maner. Ther are two sortes of choler, wherof the one, which is con∣teined within the gall cannot nourish: the other necessarely concurreth with the blood, wherwith the partes of the bodye which are of a cholerick constitution, are as well nourished, as the sanguine partes are with the blood.

Fyfthly, whether can the sicke or the whole best indure hun∣ger? Some hold opinion that the sicke can, bicause naturall heat in a sicke person is busie in resoluing mo fumosities, breathes, and vapours rising from the humours, then in an whole person. Howbeit this reason is weake, first bicause there can bée no partes nourished, nor spirites engendred by corrupt humours, and secondly if this were so, then shoulde there bée moe spirites in a sicke body then in an whole, and bicause the spirits are the carriers of the powers and strēgth into althe parts, the sicke should bée stronger then the whole, which is euidently false. But to growe to the purpose, wée answere that whereas the sicke tollerateth hunger better then the whole person, there are thrée causes to bée giuen: the fist is bicause nature is occupied about the sicknes, and the cause therof: the second, for that the partes of the body are in∣fected and cheaked with the corrupt matter, and therfore do not desire nutriment: and the third is bicause the strength of the sicke party béeinge, as it were, layd a sléepe and weak∣ned, ••auseth them to haue no appetite vnto meat.

Sixtly, whether in the force of a strong or weake stomacke

best able to abide hunger? The force of a strong stomack desi∣reth most, but it may best sustaine forbearing of meate, and contrariwise the appetite of a weake stomack looketh lesse for meat, & is not so well able to abide delay from it.

Seuenthly, which of the twayn is best able to indure hunger hee that is accustomed to eate much meat or litle? It may bee answered that hée that vseth to eate much meat may best fast for by reason of his great rauening hee hath but small heate, and therfore may best indure hunger, & so likewise contrari∣wise, bicause of the contrary cause.

Eighthly, whether doth fasting more grieue men in hoate or cold seasons of the yeere? It is more noysome in Summer then in winter, bicause the body is more resolued in Sum∣mer then it is in winter, and therfore ought then to bée fead more aboundantly and very often, and in winter it sufficeth to eate once in a day. Ninthely, why are those that feede griediestly soonest filled? Hereunto wée must answere as it is writtē in the Saturnalia, that they which feede griedely eate in mutch aier with their meat by reasen of their wide gapinge, and often fetchinge of their breath. And therfore when the veines are filled with aier, the appetite is fully satisfied.

Tenthly, wherfore are wee able to abide hoat meates and drinkes in our mouth, which wee cannot for heat suffer in our handes? wée answere as appeareth in the place béefore allea∣ged, for that the naturall heat which is conteined with in the inner partes of the body is very sharpe and vehement, and therfore it ouercommeth & weakneth whatsoeuer other hoat substance cummeth within the mouth, wherfore then when thou puttest eny extreme hot thing into thy mouth, gape not wide nor fetch not thy breath in oftē, thinking therby to coole it, but rather shut thy lips almost close togither, to y^e intent y^t the greater heat which cūmeth out of y^e belly, may help the mouth, and that greater heat ouercome the lesser, as for the hand that can abide no hot thing bicause it is holpen by no o∣ther heat then is in it self.

The. 4. chap. conteining. 7. questions.

SOme man may haply moue this question: what is the cause that when a man which is hungry drinketh, thereby he asswa∣geth his hunger? but if hee bee a thirst and eate, his thirst is not therby slaked? Vnto this demaund there is answere made in the Saturn▪ that there is no impediment but that liquor may passe into euery part of the body, and replenishe the veines therof. But the substance of meat is more grosser, and it can∣not passe into the veines vntil it bee digested by litle and litle, so that it cannot slake the thirst which it findeth, yea rather it soketh vp y^e moisture which it findeth, wherby thirst which is the want of moisture, is more increased.

Secondly, Such as are fasting, whether bee they more an hun∣gred then a thirst? By the same place I answere y^t they thirst most, forasmuch as naturall heat worketh continually vpon the foode and nutriment which wée receiue, consuming it a∣way. Which also appeareth in children whiles they be infāts which consume and concoct great stoare of nutriment by rea∣son of their vehement heate. But contrariwise wée per∣ceiue how easely old men can sustaine fasting, by reason of the defaute of naturall heat in them. But in the middle age, if naturall heat bée stirred vp with exercise, it procureth a strōger appetite vnto meat, for want of naturall heat. Wher¦fore, if there bée alwaies heate in appetite, & moisture bée the peculiar substance wheron heat worketh, if when a man is hungry hée desireth meate, surely heat especiallye requireth his own nutriment, which being receiued, the whole body is therw^t refreshed, & cā y^t lenger tary for more soūder sus••enāce

Thirdly, why is it that wee conceiue more delight in drink∣ing when wee are a thirst, then in eating when wee be hungry? Drinke, as a substance more liquid thē meat, soner perceath into the stomack & the rest of y^e body, and at one time make••h a great & sensible delectation of the body to arise in eueri part therof, wheras meat by smal and small recomforteth y^e want and weaknes of the same, wherby the delight therof is much diminished. Fourthly: why doth the self same drinke seeme strōger to one tha•• is fasting, thē to one that is full? Hūger emp∣tieth

y^e veines, & fulnes stoppeth thē, and therfore whē as the drink passeth through the empty partes, it is farre more eui∣dent perceiued, and causeth more strong sense of delectation vnto the tastinge.

Fiftly, If a man be thirstie and haue a drie stomack, whether may a litle drinke suffice him or not? It is hereunto to be an∣swered according vnto Galen, those which haue drie stomackes are soone a thirst, and a litle drinke sufficeth them. The rea∣son wherof may be this, for that euery member which is dry, shrinketh togither and waxeth to be of lesse capasitie then it was before, whiche hapneth vnto the stomack which is drye, and therfore is soone filled, and with a litle drink. And in the stomack there is ingendred great thirstines, when the mouth therof waxeth drie and desireth to bee moistned with drinke, and then a litle drink sufficeth it. For when that which was drie and hard, is shrunken togither, the capacitie thereof is soone filled with drink and a litle extinguisheth the thirst, in∣somutch as it féeleth not it owne emptynes, and this thirste soone returneth againe.

Sixtly, May the stomack be ouer charged and troubled with to mutch drink? Surely Galen affirmeth the same, and the re∣son may appeare out of the premisses. For if a dry stomack by reason of the narrownes therof, be full with a litle drinke, if then the drink be more then the capacitie of the stomacke be able to conteine, néedes, as Galen saith, must much drink ouer flow and runouer in it.

Seuenthly, why can a moist stomack beare mutch? A moist stomack is in all points contrary to a drye, for it is very soft, like vnto a soft bottle or bladder, & for that cause is able to cō∣teine more, for it yéeldeth euery way as the meate which is receiued chanceth to fall or sway in it, & also apparent it is to sence, that a moyst bladder will receiue more then wyll a dry one, and so likwise wil a moyst stomack. And moreouer forso∣mutch as it is moist without any drienesse, which may pro∣cure thirste, therfore it mutch desireth not drinke, howbeit it receiueth much and is nothinge gréeued therewith, as is the

drie stomack. And for this cause, the Danes, Polonians, Flem∣mynges, yea, and the Englishmen can beare mutch drink, bi∣cause their stomackes are wide, procured by the softnesse of moysture. But in hoat Regions as are Spayne, Barbarie, and sutch like, the inhabitants do thirst mutch, and drinke but li∣tle, bicause of the drinesse of the mouth of the stomacke, and in sutch their stomackes can receiue but litle, bicause of the dri∣nesse therof.

The. 5. Chap. of Thirstinesse, conteining 4 questions.

NOw are wée occasioned to moue this question concerning Thirstines, Whether the cause therof proceede sumtime from the Lungues or no? Which Galen affirmeth, for that whē the Lungues are hoat and drie, they longe to bée moystned, which drines is specially aswaged by drawing in of cold aier, and cold and moyst.

Secondly, what is the cause why thirstines, which cummeth frō the Lungues, is appeased by drawyng in cold and moist aier? And the drinesse of the stomack by drink? It is thus to be an∣swered, that there be two passages, the one for ayer, which is directed vnto the Lungues: the other for meate and drinke, & that passeth into the stomacke. And for this cause the thirsti∣nesse which cummeth of the Lungues, is abated by drawyng in of colde aier, and that which riseth of the stomack, is slaked with drinke.

Thirdly, Is thirst a desire of that which is colde and moiste, or of that which is hoat and moist? There are in the body two appetites or desires: the one in respect of meat, to restore that which is lost, which appetite is satisfied with that whiche is hoate and moyst, accordyng to the nature of the partes to bée nourished. The other looketh for that which is cold and moist, to represse the flame and firines of naturall heate, whiche is accomplished by drinke only, and sutch drinke as men seldom vse but in the way of medicine, or when they bée sicke.

Fourthly, Which quencheth the thirst best of wyne or water? Thirst, as saith Galen de simplici medicina, is caused two maner

of wayes: the one by emptinesse: the other by heate & drought of the heart. That which cōmeth by emptinesse of the partes, is cheifly aswaged by Wine which is both meat and drinke, for it requireth sutch drinke as is able to restore that substāce which is lost, which qualitie since it is in Wine, that is the only drinke then wherby that thirst is appeased. But as for the other thirst which is caused by heat & drought of the heart that is again double, the one cummyng of heat only, whiche is quenched with colde only, as with Vineger and sutch like. And likewise some is caused by drienesse, & is slaked by moy∣sture. Againe, thirst which is ingendred by heate, is of thrée sortes: The one riseth forth of the stomack: the other foorth of the Lungues, and the third from the parts which are farther of. So that whiche cummeth from the Lungues is slaked by drawing in of colde Aier, and that which procéedeth from the stomack and other partes neare therevnto, is quenched with colde water, but that which springeth of some éeuil disposition of y^e parts and members which are far distant, as are y^e Liuer and sutch like, is delayed with water wherwith sum pearsing and subtile thinge is mingled to cause it the sooner to go vnto the place, as is vineger or sutch like, for water of it self is but slow and dull in operation, wherfore it is needefull that some sharper thing bée ioyned with it.

The 6. Chap. of Hurtes which come after meate, conteing. 15 questions.

HEreafter wée meane to intreate concernynge certen acci∣dents which chance after meate and drink, And first to be∣gin with the sower belching, it may be demaunded wherof it cō∣meth? And vnto this point wée answere with Galen, that the Sower belching procéedeth of a fainting heat, which fayleth & decayeth by meanes of colde. For heat is the beginning of the sowernes which beginneth to digest, but is not able to accom¦plish it, which defaut cūmeth especially by hinderāce through cold. Secondly, why is not this sowernes felt in the stomack▪ immediatly vpon the receiuing of meat? At y^e first falling of the meat into the stomak, it remaineth a while in y^e same nature

Which it had before it was eaten, and cānot so soone be sower, but when once the heate beginneth to work vpon it, there in∣sueth indigestion, and after that the sowrnes.

Thirdly, Why hapneth this sowernes rather, and in more aboundance to them that sleepe, then do wake? In sléeping the meate discendeth not downe foorthwith vnto the bottome of the stomack where the digestion is wrought, but remaineth in the mouth of y^e stomack, fléeting there about, & ingendring windynes. But for the more part while men be awake, they be stirringe about or walkinge, whereby the meat is driuen downe, and enforced into the bottome of the stomack, whiche is the most effectuall place of digestion, and repugnant to the cause of sowernes.

Fourthly, Why (saith Auicen) do swete things soonest wax sower in the stomack, as milk, and sutch like? Milke, and sweete blood are soone altered, and when y^e stomack assaieth to digest them and cannot, then turne they to be sower.

Fiftly, Why will wine wax sower quickly in the stomack? Wine and Milke of their owne nature are very soone con∣uerted into sowernesse, & the stomack vseth to bring thinges from power into acte, and so maketh them sower.

Sixtly, since all Wines be hote: How chanceth it, that they ingender colde diseases, and not hoat? Wine of it selfe bréedeth no disease, but by filling the sinewes and braine, and sutch re∣pletions insue indigestion, and indigestion nourisheth colde sicknesses, and by this meanes Wine bréedeth none but colde infirmities.

Seuenthly, Wherof commeth wringing, and griping in the bellie? Wringing and gripinge chanceth in all partes of the body, and it is of diuers sorts. One cummeth of grosse windi∣nesse, and this happeneth in the bottome of the stomack: ano∣of grosse & tough humours, and another of cholerick superflui∣ties. And this last kinde of gripinge in whatsoeuer it begin∣neth, for y^e most part it endeth in y^e stomack, the bottom therof being a place of great sensibilitie, notwithstandinge that this griping also may paine any other place of y^e guts whersoeuer.

Eightly, May a sick Man eate as much meat as he was won•• to do when he was in good health? Custome is a second nature and hée that is accustomed to eate mutch when hée is whole, cannot fast when hee is sicke, and therfore must bée more of∣ten refreshed with meat, euen as often as hee vsed to bée bée∣ing in good health, and more abundantly then hée that eateth litle.

Ninthly, whether doth bread or fleash more hurt vnto sutch as are recouering out of sicknes? Rhasis saith that fleash is lesse hurtful then bread vnto them, and among all fleash, Swines fleash nourisheth most, and béeing light of digestion it is most agréeable vnto them.

Tenthly, whether is bread or fleash most meetest for thē that haue an Ague? Concerning fleash, ther bée two poincts to bée considered in the dieting of Agues. The one is light digestiō, and herein fleash excelleth: the other is easie conuersion into nutriment, and herein bread is better then fleash, for that fleash by reason of the oylines therof is soone inflamed.

Eleuenthly, whether is it good to permit sutch as recouer out of sicknes to drinke wine immediatly after their fleash, or a∣fore? In this poinct the common people is deceiued, for the fleash should first bée eaten, and afterward the wine drunken bicause aboue all things wine is soonest conuerted into blood, and spirits, & augmenteth natural heat, and therefore ought to bee giuen later then fleash.

Tweluethly, whether ought one that is recouering out of sicknes, to be dieted & gouerned two daies, like as when he was sicke? verely hée ought so, and that for thrée causes. First, for the debility of naturall power: Secondly, bicause of custome: Thirdly bicause of some distemperature remaining yet with in the body since the sicknes. This also may be a reason, that it is not good to change suddenly from that whereto a man is accustomed but by litle and litle, and therfore the recouerer ought for a while to reteine the same diet.

Thirtenthly, Is grosse meat good for such as recouer out of sicknes? According vnto the iudgment of Hyppocrates, it is not

for, saith hée, it is conuenient that they bée nourished two or thrée daies with the same diet which they vsed béefore. For otherwise they would soone bee altered by feeding on grosse meates, which were not good for them to do.

Fourtéenthly, which of these two alterations hurteth a man most, from emptines to repletiō, or from repletion to emptines? The sudden change from emptines to fulnes is more hurt∣full then from fulnes to emptines, according to the opinions of Hyppocrates and Auicen. The reason is, for that through the emptines which went before, the strength of the body is o∣uerthrowen, the naturall heat and spirites beeing resolued, so that hee cannot beare a great quantity of meat, nor a sud∣den change vnto fulnes.

Fiftenthly, how chanceth it that some meates of euell iuce as Eeles, fresh Beefe, and sutch like, do many times free many men of the Ague? It fortuneth y^e sundry, many times are de∣liuered by such contraries in their féeding, both by the prouo∣cation of nature, who after the receiuing of sutch meates is much lightned, and therby assaying to disburden her self doth often cast herself headlong, sumtime to better, & sumtime to worse: and also for the comforting of nature as taking greate strength by y^e receiuing of customable meats, & so the powers beeing strong, the pacient is eased and freed by such meates: but béeing weake, are ouerthrowen, and quite extinguished.

The. 7. Chap. of Bread, conteining. 8. quest.

BRead is in diuerse places made of diuers & sundrie sortes of corne, and therfore it may bée demaunded, why bread, which is made of wheat, nourish more then that which is made of Barly? vnto which Aristotle answereth in his problemes, bi∣cause it hath more moderate clammines, which it béehooueth all good nutriment to haue, whereby it may be ioyned and cleaue vnto y^e body, also it sticketh fast togither in the moul∣ding, and is therfore the more commendable.

Secondly, why doth stale bread seeme whiter and fairer thē new? Moisture is the cause of the blacknes which is more a∣bounding in new bread then in stale, for in the new bread it

yet remaineth, but in the stale it is exalted away, and depar∣ted togither with the heat.

Thirdly, why is vnsalted bread heauier then salted? Salt drieth & by it things are preserued from putrifaction, so y^t by salt the moisture is consumed & is expelled away by exhalatiō, which maketh stale bread to be lighter then new, and again, in new bread the moisture yet remaineth and maketh it heauy.

Fourthly, why is not bread made of wheat, hard whē it is cold? wheat naturally cōteineth in it a swéet slimy humour, which is as it were the soule therof, & will not permit it to bee hard.

Fiftly, why doth wheaten past rise, and barly past fall both in woorking and baking? Barly meale when the water cum∣meth vnto it shrinketh down, bicause it lieth houer and thin, and is full of huskes. And wheaten meale riseth vp, bicause beefore it lay very neere togither: but when once it cummeth to heat, thē dooth it puffe vp, and rise vp into a greater heap.

Sixtly, Why looketh the dough which is of wheat, white when it is wrought, and barly dough blacke? For two causes, first for that that which is in the vppermost of the wheaten bread is sooner altered by the heate of the ouen as béeinge a thing hot and is conuerted into whitenes: And secondly by∣cause the husky part of the barly reteineth in it more moy∣sture then doth wheat, which causeth the blacknes.

Seuenthly, Since hony is a more clammye substance then water, how chanceth it that paste which is made vp with hony is more brittle in the baking? Water is ioyned & glewed togither by heat of the fire. But hony glueth togither & drieth with al, and therfore is more brittle, for brittlenes cōmeth of drinesse

Eightly, why is bread which is made of new corne worse thē that which is made of olde? In new corne there yet remay∣neth much watrish and slimy clamminesse, wherby it is lesse commendable then that which is made of old grain.

The. 8. chap. Of Wine, conteining. 13. Quest.

COnsequently I thinke it méete to intreat of wine, concer∣ning which ther may be many profitable questions moo∣ued, & likewise resolued not w^t out delite, as first, if, according vnto y^e assertiō of Auicen in his cātickles, & Rhasis in Almansor

it be good once in a month to be drunken with wine? Vnto this answereth Auerois, in his cōmentarie vpon the Canticles of Auicen, y^t this opinion of drunknes is but a drunken opinion, & erroneus. For although accordinge vnto the iudgement of Galen, Wine is as agréeable to the mayntenance of natu∣rall heate, as Oyle in the Lampe to preserue the burnynge light: notwithstanding like as to mutch oyle rather hindreth the light and extinguish the candle, so doth ouermutch Wine quench natural heat altogether. Howbeit if it be delayd with water it is more conuenient, but it hurteth the animal heate and the sensible organes therof, both the brain, and sinews.

Secondly, why surfet they sooner that drink delaid Wine, thē they which drink it pure? Concerning pure Wine generally, Galen saith, that for sutch as naturally haue weake veynes, it is better to drinke water then Wine. And to come nearer to the purpose, Aristotle in the third part of his Problemes gi∣ueth a thréefolde cause vnto this demaunde: the first, bicause that which is tempered or mingled by reason of the subtilitie thereof entreth into more narrow passages then doeth that which is not tempered: secondly, bycause men drinke lesse of that which is mingled as liking not so well of it as of y^t which is not tempered, and thirdly, that which is impermixt and without minglyng is hoater and digesteth the residue of the meat, which is in the stomack, sooner, then the delayd Wyne is able to do.

Thyrdly, Why doth Wyne which is vnmingled with water sooner cause a mans head to ake then that which is mingled? The vnmingled Wine is thick, and sticketh in the passages, sendyng vp the vapours and fumes with heat into the head: and the mingled Wine beeing thinner and also delayd, bothe perceth sooner, and fumeth lesse.

Fourthly, what is the cause that mingled wine moueth a man more to vomite then the cleane wine doth? The swimminge of the watrishnes of it about the stomacke, procureth lothesom∣nesse, and maketh apt to vomit.

Fifthly, why do not children which are hoat of complexion,

loue wyne, which aged persons, and men of perfit strength bee∣ing hoat also, do greedely desire? Men are hoat and drie, and children hoat and moyst, and the desire vnto Wine is the ap∣petite vnto moysture, which moysture abundyng in children kéepeth them from drinkyng, and the drieth which is in aged men & stronge persons, prouoketh them to a desire of drinke.

Sixtly, when wine is clensed from the Lees why is it stronger and not durable? Macrobius in his Saturnalia the fourth booke, writeth that hauing no strength nor matter to cleaue vnto, it is on euery side exposed vnto dangers: for the Lees is as it were the roote wherby the Wine is strengthned & preserued?

Seuenthly, why doth wine immoderatly taken ingendre both hoat and cold diseases? It is to be noted that there be two quali∣ties in Wine: the first is to heaten, and in this respect it ra∣ther procureth hoat then colde sicknesses: the second is to stuf the brayne, and to fill the sinews. Thus when cold vapours arise from the Wyne, they cause vnlustinesse, fulnesse, and vndigestion, and consequently procure cold diseases.

Eightly, Whether doth Wyne ingender most of Fleame or Blood? Séeing as wée haue béefore concluded Wine bréedeth colde humours, doubtlesse it breedeth also more Fleame then any other humour. The reason is, that when wine is quaffed in great abundance, it is not perfectly digested & causeth like∣wise the residue of the meat to fayle in concoction, thereby in∣gendring abundance of Fleame: But indéede if it bee mode∣ratly drunken, it increaseth blood aboue other humours.

Ninethly, Doth Wine hurt the brayne? Isaac saith yea. And Galen also affirmeth that it hurteth the brayne, and hel∣peth the stomack. And albeit that at the first drinkyng wyne doth properly warme, yet bicause it fumeth mutch, it anoyeth the brayne, fillyng it with vapours and stoppyng the sinews.

Tenthly, Why doth strong Wine hurt the braine and com∣fort the stomacke, and weake wyne worketh the contrary effect? Bicause Wine heateth the stomacke whereon consisteth di∣gestion, stronge Wine is of greater effect in this case then is the weake. But agayn, how mutch stronger the Wine is, so

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mutch the more it sendeth vapours vp into the head, so that the strength therof bréedeth inconuenience.

Eleuenthly, Why doth the vse of Wine ingender the sower gulpyng or belchyng in the stomacke, more then water? The sower belchyng neuer hapneth in the stomacke but when di∣gestion is beegun, and Wyne stirreth vp naturall heate, and is as soone digested as Milke. Wherfore, like as when they bée out of the stomack they soone waxe sower: so do they like∣wise in the stomack.

Tweluethly, Whether doth wine or meate comfort naturall caliditie? Isaac saith that wine doth, and the reason is, bicause it is very swiftly conuerted into natural heat, comfortinge it mutch more then any meat doth. But meate when it is con∣uerted into nutriment, doeth more restore that which is lost, and comforteth and preserueth the body longer.

Thirtenthly, and lastly, If wyne must needes be giuen vnto the sicke, whether were it most expedient to giue them new wine or olde? Although the common people do contrary and mutch amisse, yet new wine is far more holsom for them then olde. The reason is, for that how mutch the newer the wine is, so mutch the lesse it is inflatiue or windy, and for that cause is more conuenient for them, then are the old wines.

The 9. chap. Of Fleash: conteinyng. 4. quest.

HEnceforward now let vs sée what may bée sayd of Fleash. And first it may demaunded, why strong Fleash is soonest digested? It is answered in the Saturn. that naturall heate is strong in a man which stoutly inuadeth the matter and sub∣stance which resisteth it, consuming & dissoluing the same, and that which is tendre & light it burneth sooner into ashes, then turneth it into iuice. For like as sound wood being hewen in to pieces is soone conuerted into coales, & if chaf fal into y^e fier there scarce remaineth any ashes therof to be found: so fareth it in the digestion of strong and light meates. So likewise an heauy milstone breaketh the greatest cornes, and letteth the smale depart whole. The strong windes also throw downe hie Firtrees & mighty Oakes to the ground, & letteth the low

shrubs, & bushes to stand: Euen so naturall heat digesteth the hard fleash, and ouerpasseth the fine and tendre nutriment.

Secondly, Why be Cullices which are made of Fleash, harder of digestion then the fleash it self? The lightnes which it get∣teth by pounding, causeth it to swim vpon the top of all kynde of moysture which it findeth in the stomacke, so that it cannot cleaue vnto the sides of the stomack, the truth wherof is per∣ceiued if some portion of the cullice be thrown into water, for it will alwaies fléete vpon the toppe, and for that cause is the slowlier concocted in the stomacke.

Thirdly, which is moister of rosted or sodden fleash? Wée must answer hereunto with Aristotle in the. 4. booke of the Me∣teors, that the rosted is moistest: for in rost fleash by reason of the fire the outward parts are hardened, and consequently y^e the pores are stopped, so that y^e inmost moisture cannot issue foorth. But in sodden fleash the outward pores are resolued through the heate and moysture of the water, and so opened y^t al y^e moisture departeth. Thus it hapneth that rosted fleash se∣meth drie without and is moist within, and sodden fleash con∣trarywise. Fourthly, why do the beames of the Moone cause fleash sooner to putrify, then of the Sunne? There can bée no putrifaction vnlesse heat and moysture do méete. And the pu∣trifaction of fleash is nothing els but a certain secret dissolutiō conuerting the sodility of the flesh into moisture. And heat if it bée temperate, nourisheth humours, but being immoderate drieth thē vp, & doth extenuate. So y^t the Sun beeing hot, dra∣weth all y^e moisture out of y^e flesh and drieth it. But y^e beames of y^e Moone, in whom ther is no manifest heat but an hidden warmth, increasing the moisture, ingendreth quickly therin great putrifactiō. For ther abideth in the beames of y^e Moone a certen natural propriety to moisten bodies, & to imbrue thē as it were with a misty dew, wherunto y^e heat which she hath being ioyned, corrupteth y^e flesh which lieth any time in it.

The. 10. chap. Of Egges, conteining. 9. quest.

THis Chapter requireth now some speciall treatice of Eg∣ges, wherin the first question which offreth it self most fit∣ly to be demaunded, is this:

which is the hoater of the yolke or the white? Amonge all hu∣mours blood is warmest in temperate warmth, so that the yolke as cūming neerest vnto the blood, is surely y^e warmer. Moreouer, the Liuer is hoater then the breastes, and the blood warmer then the milke, and the yolke in the egge is in temperature vnto the white, as is the blood in the Liuer.

Secondly, why doth the yolke beeing cast into water, sinke downe to the bottom, and the white fleete on top? The white is very slimy, and cleaueth vnto that which is next vnto it, and by reason of the slimines swimmeth aboue the water, and the yolke bicause of the soundnes and want of pores, sinketh downe.

Thirdly, why haue birdes fewer egges and bigger then the fishes, and they haue moe and smaller then birdes? The greatnesse in a thinge which is continuall, is procured by a strong heate: but a multitude in that which is diuided is long of the matter, bicause the matter is the beginning of di∣uision. And bicause birdes haue more heat then fishes haue, therfore haue they great egges in continuall, and but few in diuision, and contrariwise it fareth in fishes.

Fourthly, why haue birdes egges an hard shell, and fishes egges a soft? Fishes lay their egges in a moist place, and ther∣fore they néede no hard shell. But birdes lay their egges in hard and sound places, as vpon the ground, stones, trees, and such like, and therfore haue néede of an harde shell to keepe them frō hurt, vntil such time as the chick or bird be hatched.

Fiftly, why are birdes egges speckled and of diuerse coulers, and it is not so in fishes? In birdes ther is a strong naturall heat which is able to seperate thinges of diuerse natures a∣sunder, as the yolke from the white, and in fishes this heate is so weake that it is not able to worke the like effect.

Sixtly, why are birdes egges long, and fishes egges round? Heat moueth from the centre, and especiall causeth a forme like a piller, broad beneath and sharpe aboue, as appeareth in flame of a fire which riseth vp into a sharp poinct. Wherfore, heat béeing more abundant in birdes then in fishes, the birds

Egges are long, and fishes round, for the weake heat carieth the matier equally round.

Seuenthly, what breaketh the eggeshell when the chicke is hatched? There bée two causes hereof alledged, the one is, for that by long and continuall lyinge the shell waxeth softe and thin, as it is if an egge bée stieped nine daies in vineger: the second is, for that when the young bird lacketh nutrimente, hée breaketh the shell to séeke meat.

Eightly, why doth the yolke of an egge which is layd in the full of the moone, and in the light therof, scoure spottes out of cloth? The fatty drop in the middes of the egge béeinge the meanes of the generation, conceiueth a pearcinge and a diui∣ding heat both by the great light, and the moisture which the Moone moueth, which it can not do at another time.

Ninethly, why do some egges crack when they bee laid into the fire and some not? Such crack as haue within them win∣dines, which is perceiued when the shell reueth, to issue forth with great noise and force. And this hapneth when the fire is great. For if a birds egge were cast into the middes of the fire, the shell would soone breake, & the windines would start forth with great noise and force, which it would not do if the fire were small. But proportionably, there is mutch more windines in the egges of fishes, and therfore they make a great noyse when they bee cast into the fire, as appeare for example in the rowe of an hearring.

The. 11. chap. Of Fishes, conteining 4. Questions.

NOw let vs a litle come to demaund a few questions con∣cerning the nature of Fishes, and first, whether Fishes do feed vpon their owne frie or not? wherto it is to bée answered affirmatiuely, both bycause they bee rauenous by reason of their cold stomackes, and also bicause they haue blunt sences and cannot discerne their owne frie from other, deuouring vp all a like.

Secondly, do Fishes chawe their meat? No, for if they did, superfluous water would enter into them with their meate,

and suffocate them. Againe, they bee rauenous, and feede gréedely and eat downe their meat whole as it cummeth.

Thirdly, why doth the raine profit fishes, and hurt birdes? Swéete water nourisheth onely, and therwith are fishes nou∣rished beeing mingled with mud and clay. As for birdes they liue in the aier, and séeke their liuinge by flying about, and the feathers of their winges will clod and cleaue together with the rain, and so are hindred in their flying. Wherof it may bée gathered, that abundance of raine hurteth aswell fishes as foules, for in such times they fall into oppilations of the nutritiue partes, by reason of the swéetenes of sutch water. For swéete thinges, as saith Galen, do stop the parts nutritiue.

Fourthly, Why do the Roes of fishes crackle more in the fire then other thinges do? When the fire is so hot that it re∣solueth more then it consumeth then do they break in y^e fire, as it also appeareth by the example of the chestnut: But whē it is so temperate that it consumeth as much as it resolueth, then do they neither réeue nor breake: béesides that fishes egges or Roes do crackle by reason of windines included wi••hin them, which issuinge foorth at a litle hole, causeth a noyse.

The 12. Chap. Of Pultes or Podware conteining. 3. Questions.

NExt wée maye take a conueniente occasion to dispute of Podware, or graines contained in a Cod or shale, wherin wée may first demaund the reason, why Galen supposeth that sutch as vse to feede on that kinde of ware are mutch subiecte vnto the gowte? And the cause is for that béeinge harde and windy, they bée of euill digestion and are soone turned into fleame, and of fleame springeth the gowt.

Secondly, Beanes beeing windy, why do they not lose that euill quality by boyling, as well as barly? Beanes are naturally more windy then barly. Or this may bée the cause, for that beanes are of a harder, more compacte and grosse substance then barly which is light and houer, and is sooner discharged

of the windines. Whereupon saith Isaac accordinge vnto the doctrine of Galen, wée cannot altogether take away the windi∣nes from beanes, but wée may diminish it by boylinge them.

Thirdly, may Lentils prepared with vineger, bee ministred in sharp diseases? Auicen holdeth opinion that they may, but Galen denyeth it. And therfore it is thus to bée vnderstood, that Lentils prepared with vineger are noysome in a Feuer with impostumation, bicause they freat and binde the passa∣ges, which thing Galen meaneth. But in a Feuer without im¦postumation, by reason of contrariety they bée good, as Auicen vnderstandeth it.

The 13. Chap. Of Pot hearbes, and Sallet hearbes. conteining. 6. Questions.

HEreafter now insueth to discourse with like breuity con∣cerning a few vsuall hearbes, where as first the cause and reason may bée required, why Colewortes do dissolue drunken∣nes? Aristotle answereth herunto in the third part of his pro∣blemes, that Colewortes yeld a sweete iuce, and conteine a purgatiue faculty, the effect wherof Physicions vse to proue in the ministring of emollient Glysters, so that by the same vertue it draweth the supefluous & indigested matter from of the wine or drinke in those that bee drunken. For this be∣ing left in the vppermost part of the belly, the bodye waxeth colde, which beeing cold, the thinnest part of the moisture is conueied into the bladder. Wherfore the body beeing rid of this double moisture, must needes bee discharged of the surfet.

Secondly, why doth Purcelain take away the benumming, or edge of the teeth? The same Aristotle also in the seconde part of his worke beefore named, saith that the slimines of Purcelain entring within the teeth, draweth forth the sharp∣nes which is the cause of beenumming, and likewise milke meltinge about the teeth, hath the same effect.

Thirdly, why do Leekes and Onions prosper best in drye ground, and worst in moyste? It is also to bee answered by the same Authour in the first parte of the Probleames, 〈1 page missing〉〈1 page missing〉

as all that is milted by hoat and drie is of the nature of water as appeareth by all kyndes of Mettals. And Earth is tur∣ned into Salt, when it is clensed from the drosse in moysture and burnyng heat, and drieth congelyng and hardenyng it, so that Salt is a certayn drinesse of the earth burned by an heat into a watrish hardnes, wherby the tast therof cōmeth néere vnto bitternesse, which is ingendred of heat woorkyng vpon an earthly drie substance. Then beeing of this nature, by heat it is hot and drie, and by reason of the bitternesse it killeth the belly wormes, and by drithe it drinketh vp putrifiynge moysture, abolishyng the same, and consequently prohibiting all stinking. Now bicause it drieth, and consumeth moysture and heate, it hindreth generation and fruitfulnesse of the grounde, and bicause it hath a sharpnesse of a burnyng heate, it sharpneth the things that are mingled with it. And bicause it hath a certain bitter drinesse, the tast thereof is lothsome, and prouoketh thirst by reason of drieth, and bycause of the sharpnesse it dissolueth, and beyng mingled with other sauces maketh them pearce into the tungue, and so it hateth other tastes. Moreouer Salt hath a certein meruelous nature, which is to draw foorth the like vnto it selfe, out of another thyng. For if poudred Fish or fleash which is very salt be layd to sooke in brine which is newly made, it draweth the saltnes out of it sooner then fresh water doeth.

Lastly, Why doeth Salt crackle when it is cast into the fier? According vnto the same doctrine in the fourth of the Meteors, Salte is of substance earthy combust mingled with water and therfore it crackleth when it is throwne into the fire. But if you would know the cause why Salt preserueth fleash from corruption, read it beefore in the discourse of fleash.

The. 16. Chap. Of Hony: conteynyng 2. Questions.

AMonge many other wée must not forget to say sumwhat of Honie, and first to demaund this question therin, which is the better of new or olde Honie? The choyce in Honie and

Wyne is quite contrarie, for the newest Honie, and oldest Wine is preferred according vnto Macrobius iudgement. The cause hereof is this, for that the nature of wine is moyst and of Honie drie, as the proofe appeareth in the vse of Phy∣sick, for things which are to bée moistned, must bée fomented with Wine: and sutch as are to be dried, must be clensed with Honie. Thus in continuance of time there is some part of thē both consumed away, and the Wine waxeth stronger, and the Honie drier.

Secondly, If Hony be put into a Wine vessell why do the Lees rise vp vnto the top of the Hony, wheras whatsoeuer els is put in, the Lees as the heauier substance alwayes kepeth the bot∣tome? The dragges or Lees, as béeing the most earthly and heauiest part of the substance, fall downe to the bottome, and yet are ouercome by Hony, for Hony naturally by reason of the weight therof, falleth downe to the bottome, and driueth vp the Lées as lighter then it self.

The. 17. Chapter Of Oyle, conteinyng. 3. Questions.

NOw lastly wée come to the consideration of Oyle, where these questions are to bée mooued.

First, wherfore fleeteth Oyle in the top, wine in the middes, and Hony in the bottome? The better the Hony is, the hea∣uier it is: and that which lieth in the bottom is alwayes the best, and in Wyne that is, cheifest which lieth in the middle not troubled with the Lées, nor aboue corrupted by the ayer. For the husband men of the countrey, not contented only to couer their vessels abroad, hide them vp in the ground, and de∣fend them from externall hurt, preseruyng them as mutch as is possible from takyng the ayer, wherwith they bée so mani∣festly anoyed, that sumtime the whole full vessels are almost corrupted. Wherfore the Wine which is in the middes of the vessell, béeyng farthest from the aier and the Lées in the bot∣tome is best, as farthest distāt from two noysom neighbours.

Secondly, why doth Oyle amend in goodnes, which is pre∣serued in a vessell but halfe full? The aier filleth vp the other void place of the vessell, and drieth vp the superfluous moy∣sture which aboundeth in the oyle, which beeing taken away it getteth a new sweetnes in the tast.

Thirdly, why doth Oyle congeale, but wine very seldome? Oyle is a smother and thicker substance then wine is, and therfore more apt to congeale: but wine is nothinge so soft, & béesides is much more liquid. And wheras vpon occasiō here∣of it may bée replied, why vineger which is passing cold doth not freese, when other things do which are not so cold: Sure∣ly it may also bee answered by the same reason, for y^t among all liquours it is the thinnest, sharpe also and eger, which is some hindrance, as it is euident if wee take the sea for exam∣ple, which by occasion of the bitternes and saltnes therof, is kept from congealing. And now also of purpose a litle to di∣gresse, what is the cause that Pepper and Mustard béeing ap∣plied vnto the outside of the skin do blister and inflame the place, but receiued into the stomack they offend very litle, or not at all? Sharp spices and drugges do exulcerate the vpper most part of the skin bicause they bee therto applied in their full vertue without the mixture of any thing els with them: but beeing eaten downe into the stomack, their force is de∣layd by the moysture of the belly, so that they bee altered by the heate which is there, beefore that they bee able to do any harme.

FINIS.

❧ The fourth Booke, of Table Philo∣sophie, which compriseth many mery honest Iestes, delectable deuises, and pleasant purposes, to be vsed for delight and recreation, at the boord among company.

The Preface.

Jn this fourth Booke we intend to set downe somwhat concer∣ning honest myrth, and pleasaunt recreation in wordes, wher∣by men are refreshed, at the table. For as sayth Aristotle in the fourth booke of his Ethicks, In this life if at any time we haue the liberty to lyue in rest & quietnesse, and to refresh our selues with any pastime, wee ought therein to frequent comelie and curte∣ous speache, and to behaue our selues gentlie, so that a mannes wordes and deedes do tende vnto delight, dysposing himselfe to vtter himselfe accordinglie, and to beare the merrie deedes and wordes of others. Vpon which place, Albertus in his Commen∣tarie sayth: Euerie man that is geuen to studie hath nede of re∣creation that his witte bee not wholy ouerthrowne. For whoso euermore applieth his studie, and bendeth his minde alwaies to practise or looke vpon sumthinge: doubtlesse his spirites shalbe resolued, and the animall power be destroyed, and the proper functions of the partes surceasse: which partes being destitute, then is the force of studie brought to ruine. In consideration whereof those which are studious, and mutch troubled with af∣faires, haue neede of rest, wherein theyr spirites may be released, and their sences resolued in some pleasure. For lyke as in the cō∣mon course of our life nature wanteth sleepe, so in studie and tra∣uayle, rest is semblablie needefull. But who so is a student, or wearied with honest exercyse, to such is none other then honest recreation acceptable: which playnly consisteth in such wordes & deedes as are not repugnaunt to vertue, but styrre vp the delyte of our affection. For looke howe bodylie wearinesse is cured by bodylie rest: so is tediousnesse of the minde asswaged by plea∣sure of recreation, which is also a certaine resting of the minde. As it i•• read in a certaine wryter, that as there was a man of rype yeares, and much addicted vnto contemplacion; playing for his delight among children which he taught: there came one by, who beholding the

same, mocked him to scorne. Then sayd this good mā, why mockest thou? bend thy bow, which thou hast in thy hand, and he dyd so. Nay, bend it more quod he: J dare not sayd the other for feare of breaking it. Euen so, quod he, it fareth with my mind: For vnlesse I should refresh it with some pla••e: it would fayle mee, and be quite extinguished. And there∣fore it is expedient to vse honest recreation▪ by meanes wherof to recreate a mans minde, as namelie after godly studies, and paine∣full trauayles And among many it is a pretie kinde of solace and delight, to vse wyttie inuectiues & quippes one at another at the table, so that the wytte therein be exercised, not by byting: but by sharpning one another. Or whether it were in pleasaunt questi∣ons or picked deuises, whereby the one prouoketh another to breake silence. Or else in pleasaunt tales or hystories, wherewith the hearers are delighted, and made merie.

Chap 1. Of pleasaunt quippes, and tauntes.

ACcording to y^e doctrine of Macrobius in his fourth booke of Saturnalia, there be two kindes of quippes, or inuec∣tiues. The one a plaine rayling, or chacking. The other a figuratiuelye shadowed speach couered cleanly with myrth & ciuilyty, soūding one thing, & couertly meaning another, but not proceedyng to expresse bytternesse. The fyrst kynd is altogyther to h••e banished the table. For as the same aucthour wryteth, lyke as a lytle thrust dryueth downe him that standeth vppon a narrowe footing: so a small griefe being sprinckled and bathed with wyne, wyll soone dryue a man into madnesse. The other kynd which is coouert, may also be sauced with sharpne••se. The lyke whereof is reported of Octauianus, who seemed to bee a noble man of byrth. Before whome when on a tyme Cicero pronounced somewhat, I heard not what you sayde, quod Oc∣tauianus. That is maruayle sayde Cicero, synce your eares were woont to be so well boored, which hee spake for this cause, for that Octauianus was borne in Lybia, where the maner of the people was to make hoales through theyr eares. This

kynde of nypping, because it is next neyghbour to rayling: ought amongst wyse men to bée auoyded at the table. But some there is which hath in it lesse sharpenesse, as that which Cicero vsed against Gneus Seruilius, which was Consul but one daye. In foretymes, quod Cicero, Flamines were but for one daye, and nowe the Consuls bee so. And agayne, when Fannius had béene Consul but a fewe dayes: then sayde Cicero: there happened a great wonder in Fannius yeare, for when hée was Consul, there was neyther Wynter, nor Spryng, nor Summer, nor Haruest. And when Fannius demaunded of him, why hee came not to see him whyle hee was sycke in his Consulshyppe: hee aunsweared, I woulde haue come, but the nyght came to fast vppon mee. These, and sutch other lyke maye bée vsed, which touche certayne faultes and deformyties of the bodye, which ingender lyttle or no griefe at all, as are the crokednesse, rysing vp, or flatnesse of the nose.

Certayne nyppes and gyrdes, doe séeme at the fyrst appea∣raunce to haue some reproochefulnesse or sclaunder in them, and yet they doe not touche the hearers, as this is. When Quintus Lucius sayde vnto his friend which sate by him, that his handes were cold, then sayd his friende: that is great mar∣uayle hauing brought them warme so latelye out of the Pro∣uince. Wherewith Quintus was much delyghted, for that hée was without all suspicion of thee uerie, whereas contrarywise, if hee had spoken it vnto one that had b••••ne guiltye and pryuie of his owne theeft: it woulde haue mutch troubled him.

Or if a man should say vnto one that lyueth very chastly, hée loueth a whore as well as you, it should much delight him. Con∣trarywise, if you should say vnto a coward or timerous person, thou art as hardie as euer was Achilles, or Hercules, or vnto some notorious naughtie person, I accoumpt thee more vicious then euer was Aristides: these wordes doo sounde as a prayse, when as in d••de they be plaine discommendation. Also in the vttering of a nyppe or inuectiue: it is wel cōmended if he which speaketh it be also of the same condicion. As if a poore man mock at a poorer then himselfe for pouerty, or one that is borne of base parentage, floute at another as meanly borne as himselfe: as

dyd one Tharseus, who from a Gardener comming vnto some better calling, flouted at his olde friend and acquaintance which was blinde & of base parentage: but immediatlie he added: And I also am borne of the same seede. There be moreouer some kinde of nyppes, which doe not onely not displease the hearers: but make them merrie. The lyke whereof Diogenes cast forth against Aristenes his maister, saying: This man of a rytch man hath made mee poore, and from a fayre house, hath brought mee to dwell in a Tub. For by these wordes he vttered better his sence and meaning, then if he had sayde, I thanke my mayster that hath made mee a Philosopher, and a man perfectly fraught with all vertue.

Chap. 2. Of speaches conuenient for euerie kinde of person.

THe assembling togyther of men for honest myrth & banket∣ting, as it is commendable, so ought it not to be dumbe, and without wordes, as sayth Macrobius. And who so is desirous to be a pleasaunt companion, and a prouoker vnto talke, and de∣le••table deuises: must demaunde such questions as are easie to be resolued, and wherein he knoweth the partie to haue some skyll and exercise. For euerye man is glad when he is prouo∣ked to vtter his knowledge in that wherein he is skylfull, and woulde not wyllinglie haue his ••unning hyd wherein he hath trauailed, which is perhappes vnknowne vnto the residue, be it Diuinitie, Phisicke, Astronomie, Law, or such lyke. For herein he seemeth to haue attayned vnto some ende of his studye, when he hath gotten fytt occasion to vtter y^t which he hath read, with∣out suspicion of ostentacion, wherewith he can not be touched, when he speaketh, not intruding himselfe, but being thereto re∣quired. Againe, it is a great griefe, and a poynt of discourtesie, to demaund a question of a man in some matter wherein he is ignoraunt, and that also in companye. For he is then eyther enforced to confesse his ignoraunce, or to aunswere vnaduised∣lye, or to commytte him selfe to the hazarde of a true or false e∣uent. Suche as haue trauayled farre by lande and Sea, are glad when they be asked of the situation of farre Countreys, or of the worcking of the wylde Seas. Captaines and Souldiors

doe wyllinglye blason theyr owne valiaunt actes, yea, some∣tyme without any mocion of arrogancie. And generallye, eue∣rie man reioyseth to discourse of his owne daungers & troubles, which he hath passed in his lyfe. If thou canst, prouooke him of∣ten to talke, who hath bene many tymes fauourably entertay∣ned of great personages, or hath accomplished embassages with happy successe, or hath béen honorably entertained of y^e Prince: or who so hauing béene beset by Pyrates, among the whole fleete of his fellowes, hath himselfe onely escaped awaye by his wytte & valiencie. It wyll lyke some man wel to declare if thou require him, the sodaine felicity of his friend, which he would not vtter of his owne accorde, and yet is loth to suppresse it, for feare of suspicion of enuie. He that loueth hunting, is delighted to talke of Hounds, Forestes, Chases, and the euent of hunting. If there be any religious person present, as Monke, or Fryar, gyue him leaue to glose of his owne holynesse, howe he maye deserue well of God, what is the commoditye of Ceremonyes, and what rewardes are promised vnto the deuout fulfyllers of the same. But if there be euer an olde man in the company, you shall do him a great pleasure to aske him of such matters as are nothing to the purpose, for that age is much giuē to talke, as wytnesseth Macrobius. All these and such lyke thinges may be inuented to delight and procure the whole assemblye to talking, and to fall vnto variable communication, of what calling so e∣uer they bée.

Chap. 3. Of apte pleasaunt wordes.

SWéete and pleasaunt wordes do cheare the feast no lesse then Wyne, as is the olde saying. For if this delightsome prouo∣cation be myngled with oportunitye, it perswadeth more then doeth any hearbe myngled with the Wyne, or whatsoeuer in∣chauntment it bée, no not the best iuyces which are brought out of India or Arabia, are of so great effect. For this is the charme wherewith that fayre Helen of Greece, allured her amorous gheast, and turned him from sorrowe to ioye, euen the oportu∣nity to vtter her pleasaunt discourses. Whereby it is euident, that pleasaunt wordes and apte sayinges, not exceeding the

boundes of honestie, do much cheare the table, & solace the com∣pany. And now to speake of antiquitye, there be two very elo∣quent cōpanions, sayth Macrobius, to wyt, Cicero & Plautus, ex∣celling all other in delitefull conversation, where he bringeth in certaine places out of Cicero to the same purport, as this is, that on a time it hapned that Cicero supped at the house of Damasip∣pus the Philosopher, who setting a lyttle wyne of Falernum be∣fore him: sayd, drinke yee of this wyne which is forty yeare old: surely, quoth Cicero, it beareth his age well. Lykewise being de∣sired to dinner by a friend of his (for commonly he denayd none that requested him in that behalfe) which was but simple & or∣dinary, when he was comming away & taking leaue, he roūded the maister of the house in the eare, saying: I knew not before y^t we two were so familiar and cōming also on a time vnto Pom∣peius house, some y^t were there before, sayd that he came to late: Naye not so sayd Cicero, for I see nothing preuided. Lykewyse seeing Lentulus his sonne in lawe, a man of small stature, going with a long sword by his syde: who, quod Cicero hath tyed my sonne in lawe to a sword? The same beholding the counterfayte of his brother Quintus Cicero set forth very large, and in a great portrayture, and Quintus him selfe being a man but of a verye small s••antling: halfe my brother sayde hee, is bygge•• then the whole. After the victorye which Caesar obtayned Cicero being demaunded how he was so deceyued in taking part: answered thus: his gyrting deceyued mee, testing at the maner of Caesar, who was woont to let his gowne trayle downe after him, going somewhat wantonly & ••ff••minatly in apparell In so much that Sylla foreseeing what might haplye insue, sayde on a tyme vnto Pompeius, take heede of that vngyrted boye. Laberius passing by Cicero and faking a place to syt on: I woulde gyue you part of my place then quod Cicero, but that I syt in a narrow rowme, thereby both dis••ayning him, & iestyng also at the new Senate, the number whereof Caesar had augmented beside ryght and or∣der. Howbeit he caryed it away not s••otree: for Laberius an∣swerered him home agayne, saying: It is maruayle that you syt so narrowlye, which vse to syt on two stooles at one tyme, thereby reproching Cicerces lyghtnesse. Therefore, for as much

as these and such lyke iestes, do prouoke laughter and delyte, in them that heare them: I haue purposed to fyll this fowrth part with the lyke, according to sundrye estates of persons, drawing them forth of allowable aucthorityes, and dysposing them in a conuenient order, and begynning eftsones with the greatest personages.

Chap. 4. Of Emperours, and their merie iestes.

MAcrobius wryteth, that Augustus the Emperour was dely∣ted in iesting, hauing alwayes respect of his honour, and ho∣nestie. And many maruayled more at the iestes and quippes which he bare, then those which he gaue. On a tyme when he saw a grauer grauing a tombe for his father: In deede quod Au∣gustus this is the true reuerensing and culture of the fathers se∣pulcher. When he heard that king Herode among the chi••dren which were but two monethes old, whome he slew for Christes sake, had also kylled his owne sonne, sayd, that he had rather be Herodes hogge then his sonne. There came vnto Rome a cer∣taine young Gentleman very lyke vnto Augustus, whome whē the Emperour had seene, be demaūded of him if his mother had somtime béen at Rome or not? No quod the Gentleman, but my father hat béene often. When Augustus had written certaine inuectiues against Pillio: but I wyll hold my peace quod Pillio, for it is a shrewd matter to write against him y^t can banish mee. Then one as he was passing by, sayd, there goeth a tyrant: Au∣gustus turned about, & aunswered, if I were one, thou wouldest not dare to say so. One nyght as he lay in a vyllage in y^e coūtrey, an Oule troubled him so with hyr crying, y^t he could not sleepe. But when one of y^e souldiors going forth had taken the Oule, he commended his industrie, & commaunded that he should ha••e a thousand pence giuen him for a reward. Which the souldiour mistyking of sayd he had rather y^t she sho••ld liue, & so let hyr flie. Who wyll not maruaile how this saucie souldiour could escape so well, hauing offended an Emperor? Lucan, y^e Poet reporteth, that when •••••• that was inferiour vnto Iulius Caesar euert••, war∣••ed him in certeyne matters, he au••sweared him saying:

No stare whereto thou canst aspyre, Can make thee wothie Caesars y••e.

There is a storye tolde of a certayne Necromancer, who had a noble man to his Scholler, that promysed him many great gyftes and bountifull rewardes. Whome the maister meaning to trye what he woulde doe in deede, wrought so by his art that he seemed vnto him selfe that he was elected Emperour. And hauing thus obtayned much lande and lyuing as hée ••hought, his mayster desired him to bestowe some parte thereof vppon him. Why quoth his Schollar, I knowe thée not. Then sayd the maister, I am hee that hat hath gyuen you all these rytches, and nowe I wyll take them awaye agayne, and there withall caused the vision to surcease, and then hée found him selfe to be in case as hée was before. Thus many men promise many goodlye matters, which they neuer meane to perfourme.

Fredericke the Emperour lying in siege before the Cittye of Mill••yn, determyned if hée myght take it, to slay man, woman, and chylde. Then aunswered the Erle of Subandia, saying, that his Maiestye had yet a greater conquest then that in hand, which he must also obtaine. What is that, quoth the Emperor? truely sayde the Erle, your owne wyll and courage of mynde. Which saying the Emperour hauing wel dygested within him selfe, altered his determination, & graunted them al theyr liues.

Chap. 5. Of Kinges, and their sundrye merye iestes.

THe noble Seneca, in his booke which he wrote of anger, she∣weth y^t ••ing Antiochus, hearing certaine of his subiects euyl reporting of him, & rayling against him in a place where there was nothing but a curtaine drawne betweene them that spake, and him that harde: hée gentlie reprooued theyr follie, as it had béene some other man, saying vnto them, depart from he••ce least the king heare you.

Ʋalerius in the seuenth booke & thyrd Chapter. Writeth, that king Alexander being warned by an Oracle, that whomsoeuer he met when he walked forth of y^e Gate, he should cōmaund him to bée slaine, seeing a dryuer of Asses, cōming a farre of, wylled immediatly that he should bée kylled. Then y^e poore Asse dryuer asking the cause why hee should bee put to death nothauing ••ffē∣ded, they answered, y^t it was the cōmaundement of the Oracle.

Then quod the Asse driuer, If it be so, O kyng, then hath this lot fallen vpon another & not on mée, for the Asse which I draue before me met with you first. Then kyng being delighted with this subtyll answeare, and seeing howe he was reuoked from his errour, saued the man, & commaunded the Asse to be slaine.

When the people of Athens would haue yeelded diuine honors vnto Alexander, beware quod Demades, that whyles ye keepe heauen, ye loose not ••he earth. A certayne poore varlet mee∣ting with Philip the king, desyred him to geue him somewhat for that he was of h••s kynred. Which way saide the kyng? Ma∣rie quod the varlet, by our great grandfather Adam, Thou say∣est true quod the king, and commaunded that his men shoulde geue him a peny, Which when the varlet disdayned at, saying, that it was no princely reward: The kyng answeared, that yf he should geue so muche vnto euery one that is as néere of kyn vnto him, as he, he shoulde leaue nothyng for hym selfe.

Kyng Antiochus shewyng his mighty & excellently furnished armie vnto Hanibal, asked him yf he thought not that it was sufficient for the Romanes? Yes surely quod he, vnlesse they be to couetous. Pleasauntly iesting at the kinges saying, who as∣ked him touching the number and strength of his armie, and he answered of the spoyle. Philip kyng of Fraunce, hauyng cer∣tayne poore priestes with him at his table at dynner, perceiued one that sate farthest of at the boardes end conueying an whole Capon into his pocket. When dinner was ended, the king cal∣led him aside, and enquired of him secretly what he studyed? who answeared, Diuinitie. Why sayd the kyng, is it not writ∣ten in the Scriptures, that you s••ould not be carefull for meate against to morowe? yea sayd the Priest, and therefore because I would put away all carefulnesse, I haue done this thyng.

Chap. 6. Of princes, and their merie iestes

IN the second booke and seconde Chapter of the before alle••ged aucthour Valerius, there is set downe an his••orie of a young gentleman, who burnyng in the loue of Philis••iatus d••ughter, which was Prince and Tyraunt of Athens, and me••ting with her by chaunce: kissed her openly in the s••reete. For which ••••ct,

his wife the queene dealt earnestly with him, to cause the yoūg gentleman to be put to death. To whom hée answeared, if wée kyl them that loue vs, what shal we do vnto them that bate vs? Frontinus in the fourth booke of his stratagemes, sayeth, that it behooueth a Prince to be sage and auncient in behauiour, mea∣ning, that he ought to followe graue and moderate counsell.

Againe, Ʋalerius in the first booke and thyrde chapter writeth, that when Dionisius Prince of Syracuse, hauing sacked the tem∣ple of Proserpina at Locris, passed the sea•• with a merry winde and a prosperous course: he laughed vnto his frendes, saying: sée what an happie iourney the immortall gods haue geuen to a theefe, and a stealer of holy things. The same king taking from the Image of Jupiter, a golden coate of a great weight, and put∣ting him on another of cloth, said, that the golden coate was to heauie for summer, and to colde for winter: and the wollen in∣different for both the seasons. Likewise he tooke away the gol∣den platters and crownes which the Images held foorth in their handes, saying, that it was a folly to refuse their giftes whiche they offer vs, of whom wée require all kinde of good thinges. S. Auste•• in his woorke de Ciuitate Dei, writeth of Fabius the destroyer of the citie of Tarentum, that when his secretarie de∣maunded of hym what shoulde be done with the images and pictures of the gods, whiche were many, and armed as though they were goyng to the warres? declaryng his incontinencie, he spake gestingly saying: let vs leaue vnto the Tarentines their angrie gods.

Chap. 7. Of Earles, and their meerie iestes

IN bookes of histories I finde it written, that when certayne Jewes came vnto the Earle of Suba••dia, desyring hym that they might dwel within his dominions, he forbid them, saying, that they had not yet made peace concernyng the vniust death of their Lorde, and therefore how durst they be so bould, as to come into his land? A certayne religious man, required of the Earle of Bellimount for Gods sake, to geue some tymber out of his Forest towarde the making of seates in his Churche. Then sayd a knight that was present, My Lorde wyll consyder of the

matter. Nay quod the Earle, God forbid that I shoulde take a∣ny deliveraunce on this matter, since he asketh for Gods sake, of whom I haue receiued all that I haue, and therefore let him take whatsoeuer he néedeth for the seruice of God. A certaine souldier desired an Earle, (his lord and master) to ayd and helpe him to bring vp his daughters, whiche were tenne in number. Which request one of the Earles seruantes, a churlishe fellow and very ritch, hearyng: excused his lorde, and sayde, that he had not where withall. Yeas sayd the Earle, I haue thee, and I geue thee vnto him, and thou shalt geue him an hundred pound to redeeme thy libertie, and so he dyd. When the Earle of Bel∣limount was hardly besieged in a Castle by the Infidels, and de∣termined to goe foorth with a fewe, and to fight for the fayth of Christe agaynst an infinite multitude: one of his souldiers said, that it was daungerous for a fewe to encounter with so great an host: then quod the Earle, I would to God that as many as beleeue not in God, were here with them, and so by reason of his strong fayth, be obtained ouer them a glorious victorie.

Cap. 8. Of knightes, or souldiers, and their merie iestes.

NOwe must we geue to vnderstand, that whatsoeuer is here written of knightes, is likewyse to be applyed vnto the name of souldiers, for that the latin woord, Miles, is indifferent to them both, so that what so is sayd of one, may be applyed to the other. But to come to the matter, I finde it written in hi∣stories, that there was a certayne noble knight, which gloryed that he was of kinne vnto nine kinges, whereof hauyng named sixe, he could not deuise the other three. Then a iester standing by sayd vnto hym, Syr, I knowe well the other three. O, well sayd freend (quod the knight) I pray thee tell me which they be? Mary quod the iester, the three kinges of Collein.

A knight which made a feast, would haue the priest to washe first: you doo well sayd the priest to make vs washe first, and sit downe last: Yea, answeared the knight, me thinkes wee doo best, for of al other you ought to be fyrst cleane, and last drunke.

A certayne knight which was ryding to a turneament, chaun∣ced to méete with a Priest by the way: and returnyng from the

turneament, brought home a broken legge with him. And perceiuing that the Priest came not to see him, demaunded the cause of him: who answeared, I was afrayd that you had béen angry with mee because I met with you before you broke your legge, for it was counted ill lucke to méete with a Priest, if a man were going foorth to warre, or to turneament. Nay sayd the knyght, it was good lucke for me, for yf I had not met with you, perhaps I had broken my necke. Two knightes fought a combat for lyfe whiche should slay the other, and when the one had ouerthrowen the other the conquerour standyng vpon him, sayd vnto those that stoode by, some body take pitie vpon hym. And when he had often called vnto them, and no man would en∣trea••e for his lyfe: then quod this gentle knight, I my selfe wyl take compassion vppon hym, so he let hym ryse, and they shoo••e handes, and departed both togeather ouer the seas.

There was a knight which me••te with the Prior of his Pa∣rishe, cumming home very drunke from the Chapter which was held in the Abbey wherof he was, of whom he asked what newes? The drunken Prior answeared, a vengeance on this Abbey, for they were woont to haue twelue dishes of meate at a dinner, and this day they had but eleuen. Then answeared the knight, If I had but two disshes of meate in my house, they would suffise me, and thou wretch as thou art, canst not be con∣tented with eleuen? surely I wyll geue thee the twelfth, and there withall he threwe him downe in the durt.

There was a knight which desyred much to heare his wyues confession, which she denyed hym, because he hadde on neyther Surplice nor Stoale. And when he had gotten them, and put them on and disguised hym selfe, he called her, and she confessed her selfe vnto hym, saying, that when she was young, she loued a young Gentleman, and afterward a Squ••re, and then a Knight, and next a Foole, and lastly a Priest. Then the knight hearyng that, in a rage cast of the Surplice and the Stoale, and asked her angerly, if that Priest were nowe liuing, and she sayde yea, requesting hym that he would reueile it to no man. And after three dayes, when he had sufficiently bit on the bri∣dle, and vexed him selfe: she came vnto him and sayde, Deare

husband, vnderstand, that that which I sayde vnto you in my confession, I spake it for the nonce, and I tould you the trueth: for first when I was married vnto you, you were a young gen∣tleman, and afterward a Squire, then were you dubbed a Knight, and after that, you became a foole, because you coueted to vnderstand such matters of your faythfull Lady, and nowe lastly you are become a Priest, for you haue heard my confes∣sion. Frontinus in his fyrst boke, wryteth, that when Scipio lan∣ded in Africa, comming foorth of the ship, he fell downe to the ground, and because his souldiers should not be afraide, Heare ye my souldiers said he, I haue now taken all Africa.

Cap. 9. Of Squires and armour bearers, and their merie iestes.

QVintus Curtius in his historie of Alexander the great, wry∣teth, that when Alexander fought with Darius, there was a Persian who putting on the armour of a Macedonian souldi∣er, came behind Alexander, and strake him on the head, but his helmet was so hard, that the stroke glaunced away, and did him no harme. Then being apprehended and brought before the king, and demaunded why he had done so: answeared, that Darius and he had couenanted, that yf he coulde kyll Alexander, he should then marrie his daughter, and haue part of his kyng∣dome. Then Alexander liking well of the couenant, and pray∣syng his aduenture, suffered him to depart safe to his company.

A certayne Squire offered him selfe vnto a king to serue hym, saying, that he was very sturdie, and bould. On a tyme seeing raine lying vpon the kinges head, he would haue beaten it of, and as he was dooing, the king boughed with his mouth, to make him afraide. Then he immediatly lyfted vp his hand, and gaue him a boxe on the eare, that he cast him to the ground, say∣ing, wylt thou eate me vp? But when the other seruants would haue apprehended him, the king bid them let him alone, saying, I tooke him into my seruice because he promised me that he was bo••ld. Two Squires were sworne fellowes, concer∣ning all their gaynes and pray, whereof one went into turnea∣ment, and gained much, the other went not, but required his

my Lorde sayd the poore man, yf you heare hym speake, then haue I surely lost my Cowe in deede. An Aduocate ••ntred into the Cisterian order, and was set to kéepe sheepe. In a tyme when great trouble arose in the Abbey, there was none found that could geue any good counsell, but he only. At the length, being called and required, wh••rfore he medled not with the Mo∣nasterie matters, answeared, O brethren, God geueth abrode in the worlde, and the Abbot in the order of religion.

A certayne Earle going forth on Pilgrimage, put his lawier in trust with his wyfe, whyle he should be absent: When the Earle was departed, the Lawyer began earn••stly to sollicite her to consent to his incontinent lust: whereunto, because she would not agree, he withdrewe from her her meate and appar∣rel, and other necessaries apper••eyning vnto her necessarie fur∣niture. At length fearing lest she should be starued, and that the people would thinke that it came through some euyll desart of hers, graunted to consent vnto him, and sent her handmaide to bed vnto him in her stéede. And when he had taken his plea∣sure of her he cut her finger, which y^e Lady hearing, tred a linnen cloth about her owne finger. Now, when the Earle was retur∣ned, and this bawdy Lawyer thought to haue shamed the Lady before her Lord, she disprooued his trecherie, and proued him a lyer, saying, Looke whose finger is cut, & she it is that lay with you, and there withall she plucked away the cloth, and shewed her finger that was whole. A certayne Lawyer had taken sees of both parties, in a controuersie: of one, a Cowe, of the other, an Oxe. Nowe when he shoulde pleade for him that had geuen him the Oxe, he was dumb, and could not speake. Then sayde the Client, Speake Oxe, and he answeared, The Cowe wyll not suffer me. A man of the countrey desyred an Aduocate to teache him the best woord belongyng to an Aduocate, and he would geue him a certayne number of Goslinges for a reward. Then sayd the Aduocate, whatsoeuer is asked of thee in iudge∣ment, deny it, and require a longer time to answeare, although thou knowe it w••ll already. N••w when the Aduocate sent his seruantes for the Goselinges, the countreyman denyed them, saying that he owed him none.

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But at length confessing the det hée required a longer terme to pay him, which was an whole yéere after.

A certein Lawier which obtained the vpper hande in all causes, became a Munke, and beeing made solicitour for the Abbey, all matters went against him. And when the Abbot was much displeased therwith, hee said vnto him, my Lorde bée not angry, for now I dare not lie and face as I haue done béefore, and therfore I loose all matters that are committed vnto mée.

And Aduocate béeing very sicke, his friendes that were a∣bout him thought it expedient for him to receiue the Com∣muniō ere he died. Then said he, I will hear iudgment whe∣ther it wer best for mée to do so or not. Then said his frindes wee iudge it best. But I appeale frō your sentence (quod hée) for you are not my iudges, and so died. And an old verse there is written of lawiers many a yéere agoe:

I haue heard some which made their mone, That Lawiers friendly are to none. But whether that bee true or no: It is not lawfull to say so.

Chap. 12. Of Marchant men, byers and sellers.

A Proper iest of a certen Marchant that would neuer come to Church, nor heare sermons, and beeing mooued often times by his wife therto, said alwayes vnto her, go thou for vs both. On a night he dreamed that he was called into iudg∣ment, and seeing his wife with many other holly folkes en∣tring in at the doore of y^e celestial ioy, and he likewise woulde haue gone in with them: the porter put him backe, and sayd, shée shall go in for you both. Thus hee tareing without, awa∣ked with sorow and griefe and aterward leade a godlier life.

A certain Marchant hauinge occasion to trauayle beyond the sea, who had a fayre womā to his wife, which he had sum∣what in ielousie: At his home comminge, demaunded of his

wife, betwéene iest and good earnest, how oft shée had made him cuckold since he went: who answered that shée had not done it at all, well (quod he) I shall know it on Sunday whē I come at church: how can you (quod she) mary saide he, looke how oft you did it, so many hornes will appeare on my heade at church: well then (quod she) try it a gods name: This mar∣chant in the meane time got a companye of shéepes hornes, found the meanes to make thē sticke in the heare of his head, and when Sunday came his wife and he went to church to∣gither, and comming to church, either of them went to their owne Pew. And as soone as y^e marchant had said his praiers he tooke preeuely one of the shéepes horns and stucke it on his head, and by and by his wife spied it, but she said nothing, within a litle while after he priuely stuck on another, and his wife spied it, and yet said nothinge, the marchante within a while stuck on the third horne: At last, the wife perceiued the hornes to grow vp so fast, stept to her husband and rownded him in the eare, and desired him for the passion of God to get him out of the church quickly for surely said shee, if you tary here any while you will haue a hūdred hornes on your head, so by that meanes, he tried his wiues falshed, although not greatly to his contentment.

A Marchant cumming to Paris, deliuered a casket full of Gold and siluer to a certein ritch Citizen to keepe, who was godfather to Philip the French King. And when the mar∣chant came to require his mony, the Citizen denyed it him, and sayd that he neuer saw him before. Then the marchant complained vnto the King, wherat he being greatly astonied, caused the Marchant to hide himself secretly in his Chamber and caused the Citizen to be sent for, whome curteouslye in∣terteined, and communed with him of many familiar mat∣ters. And seing a ringe vpon his finger, which he had often times offered to giue him: good godfather (quoth the Kinge) haue you yet your ringe: yea my Lord, quoth the Citizē, and I haue often desired your grace to take it at my hande, and now again I desire you to accept it. Then the King receiued

the ringe, and sent it immediatly secretly vnto the Citizens wife, that by the same token shee should sende vnto her hus∣band the casket of gold and siluer. In the meanewhyle he enquired of the Citizen touching the same casket, which he vtterly denied that he had it, vntill the messenger returned, and the kinge brought it foorth beefore his face, and for the fact expulsed him out of the realme.

One that had bought an horse, when he had paid his mo∣ny, demaunded of the seller if hee were good? yea (quod the seller) Why doest thou sell him then (quod the byer) bicause I am but a poore man, (quod the seller) and hée will eate to mutch. What other euill conditions hath hée said the byer? none answered the seller, sauing that he will not clime trées. But when hée had bought the horse, and brought him home, he bit euery body. Then said his maister, he that sould him to mée sayd true, for he eates to mutch indéede. And another time ridinge foorth vpon him, when he came to a woodden bridge he would not go ouer. Which when some sawe that wher with him when he bought the horse, he tould you true said they, for he will clime no trees.

Ther was a certein good woorkeman which gained much and yet was alwayes poore. And cumminge on a time to confession, the Priest perceiued that hee was giuen mutch to drinkinge, and therfore inioyned him penance that hee should not drinke aboue a certen measure of wine at a meale, wherunto he consented, vnlesse he sould or bought sumthing that day. On a day being at dinner with his wife, he drāk vp his measure of wine, & was yet a thirst. Thē his wife know∣inge of y^e penance that was inioyned him, husband sayd shee, follow my counsel, I wil sell you a cow & then you may drink more by couenant, and you shal sell her to me againe, and by this meanes he deceiued himselfe, and could neuer bee ritch.

One bought an horse, and demaunded of the seller what faut he had? None (quod he) but that if you traueill him in company, he will not stand with his fellowes. The byer ly∣king well of that, and imputing it vnto courage and stomack,

said that he liked him neuer a whit the worse for that. But when he prooued him, he found him a lame, dul, and tyred iade and could neuer reach to his bayte with his company, but al∣wayes was fayne to tarry behinde.

Chap. 13. Diuers pleasant hystories, and pithy examples of Vsurers.

A Preacher which in a Sermon had declared the vile wic∣kednes, and abominacion of vsurers, pronounsing absolu∣tion after the Sermon vnto all sortes of people accordinge to the maner that then was, willed y^t euery sort of them should stand vp to haue his Benediction, when hee named them, ac∣cording to their vocation. And first (sayd he) arise al you that be Carpenters, which they did, and when he had blessed them he bid them sit downe agayn. Next arise Clothiers, and af∣ter them Shoemakers, and so of the residue. Now sayd he last of all let the Vsurers stande vp to be blessed, and when none stoode vp, although there were many present: Good Lorde, (quoth hee) how will they appeare before God in the day of iudgement to receiue eternall damnacion, whiche dare not stande vp before men to receiue blessing?

A certein Vsurer very ritche and couetous, dwellinge in the Citie of Mentz, being sicke and perceiuing that hée should die, willed that a bag which hee had ful of Monie should be bu∣ried with him in his graue, for the sure perfourmance wher∣of, he caused his friendes to sweare vnto him by an othe.

When hee was dead and buried, and afterward some came pri••••y in the night to his graue to take away the Mony, they saw there the Diuell sitting with a great Spone of Iron bur∣nying hoate, f••••dyng him with the Mony flamynge in at his mouth bright with fire.

A certayne Vsurer which was sick, confessed himself to a Priest, saying, that hée had but thrée sinnes whereof he was gilty, to wit, Vsurie, Lecherie, and Gluttony. To whom the Priest said, that hée could absolue him of twayne of them, but of the third, that is to say Vsury he could not absolue him, vn∣lesse

he would make restitution. Then said the Vsurer, do the Scriptures, and learned men say so? Yea quoth the Priest. But I will see first whether they say true or not, sayd the V∣surer, for yet I will not make restitution, & therfore in Gods name you may depart.

An Vsurer which was sundrie times mooued to make re∣stitution, notwithstandyng could not be therto perswaded. Falling sicke, and waxyng weake to the death, he sent for a Priest and desired to haue the Rites of the Churche. The Priest denied him, vnlesse he would restore the goods ill got∣ten, which the Vsurer refused to do. When the Priest was departed, he waxed weaker and weaker, and was euen at the poynt of death, and the Priest was sent for in all hast to com∣mend his soule vnto God, but hee could not bee founde. Then (quoth the Vsurer) I my selfe commende my Soule vnto all the Diuels of Hell, and so died. But when hée was dead, his friendes besought the Priest that he would burie the body in the Holly procession pathe, which hée denied to do. Now the Priest had an Asse which serued him for none other purpose, but to carry his bookes to the Churche, and knew none other way but that. Wherfore y^e Vsurers friendes, desi∣red the Priest to shew thē so mutch curtesy, as to let them lay the Corse vpon the Asses backe, and looke whether soeuer hee carried it, there to bury it, supposing that hée would go direct∣ly to the Churche, or home to the Priestes-house, bicause hée knew none other way. The Priest was contented, and the body was layd vpon the Asses backe, and hée went forwarde, neuer turnyng to the righthand, nor to the left, vntil he came vnto the Gallowes, and cast him downe there vnder the gal∣lowes, and there was buried amonge his fathers.

Chap. 14. Certayne mery iests of rude Husbandmen of the Countrey.

WHen kyng Liberius, of whom Macrobius writeth in the third booke of the Saturnalia, was lately aduanced from

the plow tayle vnto great riches, hée called certein Philoso∣phers vnto his table, & mocking at their oftē controuersies & quiddities in Philosophie, desired them to resolue him certein questions. Namely, why of white and blacke beanes grounde together, there riseth Meale of one couler? Wherat Aricides disdaynynge: then answer thou mée this question sayde hee, why if a man whip with a Lash made of white and blacke thonges, the strippes looke all alike whiche they make.

A younge delicate Cocknie of the Citie was married vn∣to a ritche Fermour of the Countrey. And alwayes against hée should come home to dinner or supper from his woorke, she prepared him some fine litle deintie dish in a potenger, wher∣with he was mutch discontented. And once she dressed him a capō for his supper, wherat he was much more offended then before. This prety parnel seing that she could not please him, went and complayned to her mother of the matter, who as∣ked of her what she gaue him to eate, who answered, this, and that, and recited as before is written. Then sayd hir mo∣ther thou art mutch deceiued, but henceforwarde set béefore him a great bowle full of Beanes and Peason, with browne Bread, for hée is a labourynge man, and must bée grosely fead. Now when the daughter had followed her mothers aduise, he laughed and was mery, and sayd that he laughed at the Capon which shée dressed for him the day before, but truer it is, that hée reioysed bicause his belly was full.

There was a woman which could neuer make Breade that would please her husbande. On a time strippyng her selfe naked, and wasshyng her selfe cleane all her body ouer, shée made Dough and moulded it vpon a stoole, and when she was wearie, shée forgat herself and sat downe vpon the stoole and the Dough cleaued to her Buttockes. Anon shée arose and sought for it, and her husband asked her what shée looked for, and she sayd for the lofe which I haue made for thine own tooth. Mary quoth hée, it sticketh to thy buttocks, and then the cleanly huswife remembred hir self.

An honeste stronge woman of the Cuntreye, when her hus∣band

came home from woorke out of the fieldes: hauing one of his eies so grieuouslye hurte that he could not see with it, would needes blesse her husbands other eie that it might not bée infected by that which was sore. And so while both his eies were stopped, her sweet hart, whom she had hid vp in a corner, slipt out of the doores, the husband not seinge him.

chap. 15. Of mery Iestes of the Iewes.

A Certein Jewe fell into a ditch vpon a Saterday which is the Jewish Sabboth, at what time ther came a Christian by and would haue helpen him foorth, but hee would not say∣inge, that he must not violate the Sabbath day. The next day the Christian passed by again, and the Jewe called vnto him desiring him to helpe him foorth. But hee answered, this day is Sunday, and now I may not breake my Sabbath, and so the wretch remained there. A good fellow in Merseborow in an euening stole away a poore widows Cow, & brought her in the night vnto a Jewe to whom hee pawned her for fiue shil∣linges, and the same night he stole her away agayne from that Jewe, and pawned her vnto another Jewe for so mutch mony, and againe the same night he stole her from him and pawned hir vnto the third Jewe for the like some. Then de∣uising with himselfe how the widowe might come by her Cow agayne, he stole her likewise from the thirde Jewe, and brought her home in the morning betimes by the horns. And meting with the widowes mayd that was goinge to the brooke to washe clothes, he chid her, saying, that if he had not ben, the cow had bin lost for euer. Thus the knaue serued his owne necessity for mony, deceiued the greedy Jewes and re∣stored the widow her cow.

Chap. 16. Of mery Iestes of Theeues.

A Theif wandring in the woodes, by chaunce met with a Priest, and said vnto him, that he would fain be shreuen.

For, said hee, there passed to day a Priest by this way, and I tooke his Horse from him, and therfore I praye you inioyne me penance. Then quod the Priest, giue me fiue shillings to say masse for thine offence, and the theif told him out ten shil∣lings into his hande, sayinge, take here fiue shillings for the Priests horse whiche I tooke away this day, and bicause you make so good a market, I giue you fiue more for the Horse wheron you ride, and so hée tooke away his horse also.

Ther was a theif which had stollē a poore mans goose who complayned therof vnto the Priest of the Parishe, desiringe him to speake to y^e people therof out of y^e pulpit the next Sun∣day. When Sunday was come, and the Priest in the pulpit, hee bid all the people sit down, and when they answered that they were all seat, nay said the Priest, for hee is not yet set that stole the pooremans goose (yeas quod the theef that I am) then (quod the Priest) for shame restore to the poore man his goose again, or els I will excommunicate thee.

There was a theif which watched a man that had soulde an Oxe, and tooke acquaintance of him, and lead him to the Tauerne, and gaue him a quarte of Wine. And when hee that had soulde the Oxe, woulde haue bin gonne, sayinge, that he must go bie him a purse to put his mony in: Nay quoth the Theif, lay thy mony to mine, and let vs drink more, and I will giue thee a piece of my shirte to wrap thy mony in, and hee did so. But when hee departed, this couse∣ning theif ran after him w^t hew and cry, saying that hee had cut away a piece of his shirt with his mony in it, and shewed the place, so hee gote the mony, and the true mā was hanged.

A cousening knaue seeinge a siluer Cup in a gentlemans house, which was broken a litle in the foote: he bought a good Pickerell & caried it vnto the Gentlewoman, while her hus∣band was abroade saying, My master your husband hath sent you this Pickrell to be dressed for dinner, for he will bringe home geasts with him, and willeth you to send him the bro∣ken cup that hee may haue it mended for the geasts to drinke in, and shée deliuered it vnt•• him. Now when he had toi••d

this tale to his fellow, surely, quod he, and I wyl haue the pick∣rell againe. And when he came to the house, finding there the Mistresse, and all the housholde wéeping, hee spake vnto her with a counterfayte merrye countenaunce, saying. Bée of good chéere now, for my maister hath taken the théefe, and sen∣tence is gyuen that hee shall be hanged immediatlye with the pickrell about his necke, and therefore you must send him the pickrell out of hand, which shee deliuered. Thus the théefe and his fellow had both the cup, and the pickrell.

Chap. 17. Of Iesters, and theyr merye deuises.

MAcrobius in his Saturnalia, wryteth of Cicero, that hée was so pleasaunt in wordes, & so full of pastime: that his friends tearmed him a scoffer and Iester. Fredericke the Emperours iester, with wordes prouoked verye much one Eurelius a lear∣ned man, to haue mooued him to laughter, but h••e could not. Shortly after perceyuing him to bée in some deepe cogitacion, he made a great many of lyttle balles of hearbes, and threwe them hard at him. And when he demaunded of him what he ment by that: the Iester answered, saying, I haue hard say that there is great force in three thinges, to wyt: wordes, hearbs, & stones, And as for wordes I haue sufficiently assayd you with them & can auayle nothing, nowe wyll I trye you with hearbs: and if I can profite nothing that way, surely I wyll stone you to death: at which saying he fell in a laughter, & gaue the iester a reward. A Iester taught his Horse to kneele downe on his knees as often as he sayd Flectamus genua. It happened after∣warde, that a théefe seeing the iesters Horse to be a proper Gel∣ding, stole him away. It fortuned this theefe ryding vpon this Horse which he had stollen, to ryde through a déepe slough, and full of myre, which the iester seeing, cryed alowde, Flectamus genua, and forthwith the Horse fell downe vpon his knées, and threwe his ryder in the dyrt. Another i••ster being vpon the Sea, and sodainly a tempest rysing, began very gréedily to eate powdered béefe, and when one asked him why he dyd so: hée answered that perhappes he shoulde haue occasion to drincke more shortlye then euer he dyd.

A certaine Iester being vpon the sea in a tempest, euery man in the shyp was commaunded to cast the heauiest thing which he had ouer boord. Then tooke he his wyfe & threw her into the Sea, saying: that he had neuer any thing so heauie. A skoffer seeing theeues ryfling and searching his house in the night: sirs quod he, I maruayle what you can finde here by darcke in the nyght, when I can find nothing in the broad day lyght. A cer∣taine merie felow being sick, was admonished by the Priest to make his wyll▪ Mary gladly quod hée. And I haue none other goodes but only two horses, which I bequeth to the Kinges and Princes of the earth But the Priest demanded why he would not rather giue them vnto the poore: aunswered, you preache that we should imitate God, and he hath giuen all the ritches of the earth vnto them and not vnto the poore, & therfore I would faine doe as lyke vnto him as I could. A Iester had rayled & skoffed so bytterlye at a noble man, that he threatned to hang him, wheresoeuer he tooke him, At length being taken by the noble mans seruants, & brought before his presence, my Lord, then quod he, I see now there remaineth nothing vnto mée but present death, which I haue well deserued: I beseech you grant mee one request, which may be profitable for my soules health, which as y^e earnest request of those y^t stoode about him, the Lord frankly yeelded vnto. Then sayd hee, when I am hanged, I be∣seech you to come vnto mee thrée dayes after with a fasting sto∣macke euery morning, & kysse my bare tayle with your mouth. Now the Deuyll hang thée, and kysse thy tayle, quod the Lord, & went away in a rage, & so he escaped. A mery cōpanion, ha∣uing prepared a morsell of good meat for his owne eating, & his wiues: there came vnto his house a company of Friars, & kno∣wing not how to excuse the matter & to shyft them of, sayd vn∣them: syrs I am very sory y^t you may not eate with mée, for I am excōmunicate. Then sayd the Fryars, we wyll not beleeue thée, vnlesse thou tell vs the cause why? For beating of a Friar quod he. Then a••t y^• worthily excōmunicate said they, & fearing least he would haue beaten thē also, they departed incontinētly.

Chap. 18. Of merie iestes of weemen.

MAcrobius writeth in his Saturnalia, y^t when one demaūded of Iulia, which was daughter vnt•• Augustus y^e Emperor▪

why she decked not her self according to her fathers plainnes▪ fragilitye, she answered saying: My father forgetteth that he is Emperor, but I remember that I am the Emperors daughter. When some that were priuie of her incontinencie, woondred y^t her children were so lyke vnto Agrippa her husbande, conside∣red that shee yéelded so commonly the vse of her body abroade in euery brothel house: I neuer take any passenger to sayle in my shyp, quod she, but when my shyp is already fraught. When one sayd y^t he maruailed why all brute beastes would not abide to company with y^e males, but only when they would cōceyue young: Populia which was daughter vnto Marcus answered, bicause they be beastes. Faustus sonne vnto Sylla, knowing y^t his syster vsed the carnall company of twaine, namely Pompe∣ius and a fullers sonne: I must sayd hee how my syster cā haue any spet in her, whyle shee hath the company of a fuller? A woman seeing a souldior valiently behauing himselfe in a tur∣neamēt, much cōmended him, & fell in loue with him. But whē he put vp his beauer to take y^e ayre, & the womā cōming apace to see him, perceiued that it was her husband, shee made a mock at the matter, & cared not for him. A certaine ielous man set two ouerseers to tend vpon his wyfe, who passing by the house where her louer was, for the nonce fel downe in the myre. And leauing her two keepers at y^e doore, shee fayned an excuse to goe into that house to washe her selfe, & when shee had made merye with her louer, shée came forth & went her way. There was a woman which oftentimes would say vnto her husbād that if he should dye, shée would neuer marry more. But when he was dead, & shee talked as touching marrying another, euen by his coffins side, her mayd rebuked her, saying, that her mas••er was warme yet: If he be warme quod the mistres, I wyl blow vpō him tyll he be cold. A certaine ielous husbande followed his wyfe to confession, whom when the Priest should leade behind the Aultar to be displyed, the husband perceyuing it & doubting the worst, cryed vnto him, saying: heare yee master Person, my wyfe is young & tender, I pray you let mee be desplyed for her: And kneeling downe before the Priest, I pray you quod y^e wyfe to the Priest, strike him hard, for I am a great sinner.

A woman whose husband had swynged hyr well, went vnto a Gentleman that was disseased, and tolde him that her husband was a very good Phisition, but that he would cure no man vn∣lesse he were fyrst well beaten. Then she caused him to goe thither, from whence he brought home his back full of stripes, and thus his honest wyfe was reuenged on him.

Chap. 19. Merie iestes of maydens, and young vvomen.

AN olde woman which was desirous to make a matche be∣tweene a young man & a mayde, caused a lytle bytch which shee had, to eate mustarde, and when the bytche wept with the strongnesse of the mustard, shée shewed hir vnto the mayd, say∣ing, that somtyme shee had beene a mayd, & for refusing a young man which loued her intirely shee was chaunged into a bytch, & for sorrow therof wept so continually. Which thing the mayd hearing, consented vnto her louer. A certayne young man gaue himself to the Deuyl for a mayd which he loued ardently, and could not obtaine her loue. But when the Deuil also doing his best, saw that he could not bring it to passe, to make hir loue the young man, hée went to an old woman & promised hyr cer∣tayne skinnes for a reward, if shée could mollifye the maydens heart. Which when shee had brought to passe, and required the skynnes of the Deuyl, he reached them vnto hyr vpon the ende of a long poa••e, saying: I dare not come nere thée, bicause thou art worse then I am, according vnto the olde verse:

A wicked woman fraught with all euyll, Is by three farthinges worse then the Deuyll.

A good honest whore woman, being by hyr husband taken a bed with hyr louer, consulted with an olde mother Bee of hyr acquaintaunce, how to excuse the matter. But the olde woman perceyuing that the husband y^e night before had eaten an hearb called Cheruile vnto his supper, sought occasion to méete him in the stréete, and saluted him, saying: God saue you both. Then sayd the husband, why speakest thou thus vnto mée, since I am alone? Then shée rubbed hyr eyes, saying: a vengeance on this hearbe Cheruile which I eate the last night, for ••uer it maketh mée to take one for twaine. The husband rem••mbring that hée likewyse had eaten Cheruile the nyght before, thinking the old

wyues tale to bée true, and that it had wrought in him the lyke effect, helde his wyfe excused. A certaine olde woman hea∣ring a young wyfe euermore gyuing hyr husband ouerthwart answeres, & for that cause had borne him many a blow: sayd vn∣to her, if thou wylt I wyll tell thée how thou shalt lyue in quiet with thyne husband, wherevnto shee wyllingly agreed. Then quod the olde woman, thou shalt goe into my garden at the full of the Moone, and knéele downe before the hearbe called worm∣wood, and desyre it to tell thée some counsell that is good. And marke well what the hearbe sayth vnto thée, and doe so. At the tyme appointed the olde woman hyd her selfe behind the bushe of wormwood, and when the young woman according to her instruction, began to vtter her request to the hearbe, saying: O thou most bytter wormwood, tell mée what I shall doe that is good: the old woman answered:

If thou wylt liue in peace and rest, Answere with reason for that is best:

And euer after shee vsed her tōgue better, & liued more in quiet.

Chap. 20. Merye iestes of Boyes.

BOetius in his booke of the discipline of schollars, wryteth a storie of a boy whom his parents corrected not in his youth, for his naughtie demeanour. But increasing euery day more & more in wickednesse, at last cōmitted such great robberies, that he was led to the gallowes to be hanged, & desyring to kysse his father ere he dyed, came vnto him and byt of his nose, saying, that if he had corrected him for smal faults whē he was a chyld, he had not then come vnto that shame. A certayne lytle boy séeing his father beating his mother euery daye, & hearing him saye one night when he was a bed, that he had forgotten to doe one thing: I know what that is quod the chyld, what sayd the father? Mary sayd he to beate my mother. A man had two sonnes, wherof one alwaies craued a piece of whatsoeuer was at the boord, whom the father rebuked, & set them both togither on a stoole. And when the young boy saw meat on the table that he lyked & durst not aske it, he hemmed, and the father threw a piece of meate at y^e other. Then sayd the lytle one, what a paine is this that I must hem, and another must haue the meate?

Chap. 21. Merye iestes of bl••nde folke.

SEneca the wyfe, in his fifty two Epistle, writeth thus vnto a friend of his: you know Harpasta y^e foolish woman my wife, whose eye sight sodainlye fayled her. Shee requesteth of her schoolemaster to goe into another house, saying that it is verye darke where shée now is. In ••raiectum the lower, there was a blinde man which by begging had gotten twenty poundes in Turone groates, which he hyd vp in the parishe Church where he dwelt, vnder one of the pewes, which the clarke perceiuing, sought for in the same place, & found it, and caried it away. The next morning the blind man seeking for y^e money, according to his custom, & not finding it: sayd vnto his boy, leade me into the chancel among the chaplins, & marke whom thou seest to laugh bring mee to him & he dyd so. Then the blind man calling him a side, sayd vnto him: Syr I haue hard much good report of you, y^t you be of a very honest lyfe & vertuous cōuersation, I haue a secrete matter to breake vnto you, which I would haue no man to heare. I am blind & weake, and I know not how soone I shal dye. So it is, that in this Church vnder such a pew I haue hiddē twenty pound in Turon groates, wherof no man knoweth, & I meane to lay vp there twenty more, which I would haue you to take & to employ at your pleasure, bestowing some part ther∣of for my soules health as it is conuenient. When y^t clark hard this, he went & layd the twenty poūd in the place againe where he had it, hoping to haue the other twenty pound also. But the blind man comming to church very early in the morning, tooke awaye the money with him, & so deceyued the clarke that had deceiued him. A certaine blind man, cōmaunded his wyfe al∣wayes to set a candle a light by him. On a tyme the wyfe being offended at him, discouered her naked tayle and so stoode before him. Then sayd he, wyfe is there a candle a light in the house? yea quod shée: Surely sayd he, if there be neuer a better, yet is there a brighter. A blind man & his wife had a fat goose to din∣ner, & while the wife was gone forth about busines, & the blind man turned the spyt, there came a good fellowe into the house, which he hearing & thinking it to be a dog, rose vp to ratle the dishes to driue him away. In the meane whiles this felow stole away the goose, & put a great browne loafe which stoode there by vpon the spyt, & departed, and he turned the loafe about ve∣rye

dilygently. But when the good wyfe came in, he chyd her sharply for leauing y^e doore open, for sayd he, there came in a dog euen now, & had I not mooued the dishes to driue him away, he would haue done some harme. O husband sayd shee, it was no dog, but some theefe, and he hath stollen away the goose. One y^t had but one eye was eating of a iowle of Sāmon with ano∣ther y^t had two eies, who being ready to eate y^e Sāmons eye, he y^t had but one eye cried vnto him saying, for Gods sake giue me that eye for thou lackest none, and I haue but one.

Chap. 22. Merye iestes of fooles.

THere was a merry companion that sayde there were fowre kindes of fooles. The first of thē that threaten so much y^t no mā careth for them. The second, that sweareth so much y^t none wyl beleue them. The third, y^t giueth so much away to others y^t they kéepe nothing for them selues. The fourth, y^t hauing none to helpe them, wyl not helpe them selues. There was a foole, who when he saw the Sunne to shyne wept, & when it rayned, laughed: & being asked why he dyd so, answered that rayne cō∣meth after the Sunne shyning, & therefore he wept: and when it rayned he knewe that afterward the Sunne would shine, & therefore he laughed. There was a foole called Lobellinus, who vpon a time putting on a new coate knew not him selfe, & wēt about inquyring of euery body if they saw not Lobellinus? Then one raught him a good sowse on the eare, saying, this I giue not to thee but to Lobellinus, & therewith he remembred himself who he was. A Lord gaue his foole a new caote wher∣on were imbroidred a great many Asses heads. Thē a strange•• séeing him, sayd vnto him: It apeareth y^t thou art a foole, bicause thou wearest so many Asses heads vpon thy coate, which y^e foole hearing, went vnto y^e Lord his master & byd him take his coate again, for he would not weare it. Why so quod y^e Lord bicause y^e makest mee a foole, sayde he, in putting Asses heads vpon my coate. No said y^e Lord, they be deeres heads. Deeres heads, qoud the foole, where be the hornes? Then sayd y^e Lord, they haue no hornes yet for they be fawnes, & with that answere y^e foole was contented, & so he answered vnto whosoeuer mocked him ther∣with. Frederick the Emperor was wont to say, that they were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 most fooles in all the world, that beléeue the punishmentes

and rewardes that shall be in the worlde to come, and yet lyue styll in theyr sinnes. A certaine foolishe fellow hauing a lytle money, hyd it in a hole, & couered it with a stone, wherevpon he wrote: here it is. Another comming by, and reading the super∣scription, and maruayling what it should signifye, ouerturned the stone & caryed away the money, and layde the stone againe in his place, and wrote vpon it: It is not here.

Chap. 23. Merye iestes of those that are possessed.

A Mayd in VVestphalia which was possessed of a spirite dis∣puted with euery one y^t came to her in what science soeuer, which a certaine master of Art, that came lately frō Paris hea∣ring, came vnto her. To whom sayd the Deuyl: thou commest lately from the vyllage of straw, therefore tell mée the quantity & quality of this proposition: Euery horse is a mare. Wherfore he being amazed, departed immediatly. When a certaine mā of the cuntrey demaunded of one that was possessed, how many chyldren he had: the Deuyll answered that he had one. Nowe it appeareth quod the husbandman, that thou art a lyar, for I haue twayne? Nay sayd the Deuyl, I haue told true, for one of them is not thine, but a Priestes. A Priest being defamed with a certaine woman, promised a deuil that if he would helpe him in his purgation, he would giue him a sufficient rewarde. Then the Deuil promised him y^t if he haply should be searched, it should not appeare at all that he had any mēbers. But when the tyme came, and he had stryped himselfe naked, it was of all manifestly séene that he had as much as was requisite for any man to haue. Thus wee may see howe they are deceyued that put theyr trust in the Deuyll. One that was going awaye from his wyfe bicause of her naughtinesse, meant not to take leaue at his departure. Then sayd his wyfe vnto him, to whom ••…••…ll you commyt mée in your absence: to the Deuyl quod he, & immediatly he went on his iourney. But when he was gone, & her louers according to theyr custome came to the house, the Deuyll alwayes frayd them away. Long tyme after when the husbande came home againe, now take thou the charge of thy wyfe againe, quod the Deuyl vnto him, for I had rather kéepe all the wylde boores in the whole countrey, then her onely.

One that was possessed, cōmyng through the Market place in a Citie, fell thrise in a laughter: and being demaunded the cause, answered: the first was, because he sawe a man bying shooes and a Capon, and too day he shall die (quod he) for all he hath bought them. The second was, because he saw a Bayliff leadyng a poore théefe to hanging that had stollen a trifle, say∣ing, that it was a strange matter to sée a great theefe leadyng a litle theife to the gallowes.

Thirdly bicause hee saw a Priest following a childe that was going to burying, singing, and a husbandman cumming after, weeping, when as in deede (quoth hée) it ought to haue bin otherwise, as namelye the Priest to haue wept whose sunne hée was, and the husbandman to haue sunge as beeing discharged of a great burthen. The Diuell spake in one that was possessed, sayinge: In hell there is no redemption, and therefore man is very vnwise that will hazard so noble a pleadg, which if it bee forfeited can neuer more bée redéemed. One vpon occasion of talke said to his fellow. I maruell sayd hée, that the Diuell suffreth vs to liue, since wée bee all sutch grieuous sinners? to whom the other answered, but I maruel rather why hée hurteth not his seruants.

Chap. 24. Of Popes and their mery Iestes.

IT is read in the Cronicles that when the Pope is consecra∣ted, as they terme it, ther is a great handful of Towe set on fire in presence of them al, & therwith al these woords spoken: Thus passeth the glory of the world, remember that thou art ashes and a mortal man. A good lesson if they would follow it.

Sergius the Pope was called before hée was Pope Os porci, that is to say, Hogs mouth, and since his time all Popes haue changed their owne proper names.

Euaristus the Pope, appointed seauen deacons to gward the Popes person whyle hée preacheth, which I thinke is but sel∣dome, or to asist him that hée erre not, wherby hée might come into obloquie, and bée diffamed by his aduersaries, Adrian the Pope with the whole assembly of Cardinals, Byshops, and prelates, and all the Synode gaue vp all the aucthority vnto

Charles king of Rome, to chuse and appoincte who shoulde bee Pope. And moreouer that all Archbyshops shoulde receiue their inuesture of him, and that all that were disobedient vn∣to this decree should bee accursed: mutch repugnant vnto that wherin the Popes will take vpon them to make, and depose Emperours at their pleasure.

Chap. 25. Of Cardinals and their mery Iestes.

OCtauianus a Cardinal, caused the Pope to send for one frier Tortus to Lions, that had very good knowledg in Phisick. And when he was come vnto him, y^e frier demaunded y^e cause why hee sent for him. The Pope answered, I haue a Néece that hath bin this long married, and can haue neuer a childe, and I haue sent for you bicause you are a Phisitiō, to do your indeuour to make her conceiue. Then answered, the Frier, your hollines is hoate, younge, and lustye you should sooner make her to conceiue then I can: wherat the Pope laughing tooke him to be his chaplein.

Two Priestes striuinge before the Cardinals for the Mai∣stership of a certain hospitall, it is a strange matter to se quod one of the Cardinals, how you two poore fellowes and vnlear∣ded, can not agree for one simple Maistership of an hospitall. Nay, sayd one of the Priests, it is more maruell to beeholde how you ritche prelates and learned men are at sutch conten∣tion for one great Popedome. A certein Cardinall hearing of a frier y^t alwaies preached against prelates, would needes haue him to preach in his audience, and hée did so. Then ta∣king occasion to speake of Cardinals, hee said that the Lords Cardinals were so termed of this Latin woord cardo which signifieth the hinge of a doore. For like as the hinges of a doore lacking oyle do alwayes murmour and make a noyse, but beeinge oyled do open an shut very pleasantly: so fareth it with these Cardinals, for vntill they haue promotion they neuer leaue prechinge and cryinge out at couetousnesse and ambition, and when they haue to mutch then they preach no more, but grease their bellies with dilicates and giue them∣selues wholy to all voluptuousnesse.

A certein Cardinall had a chaplein called Michael whom

hee promised that if euer God called him to greater dignitye, hee would prefer him to his contentacion. Afterward beeing made Pope and troubled with many affayres, hee quite for∣gat his old Chaplein Michael. Who seeing that he could haue no accesse vnto the Pope, wrote vpon a doore by the whiche hee should passe, these verses following.

Here standeth without before the doore, Michael the Chaplein pore, Saying that honours do manners change, But seld to better, for that were strange.

Which the Pope reading, and seeing him standing before the doore, remembred his promise, & gaue him a good benefice.

Chap. 26. Of Archbisshops and their mery Iests.

A Certein Archbysshop preachinge vpon Palme Sundaye discoursed very much of Christes humility, and of the shee Asse whereupon hee rode. And when the sermon was done, he mounted vp vpon his lofty palfry, and was ridinge home. Then came an olde woman running, and tooke the horse by y^e bridle saying, I pray you my Lord, is this the shee asse wher∣vpon Christ roade? An Archbysshop in a sermon sorely in∣veied against y^e whole order of Preaching friers, & compared them to the Pharasies. When the sermon was finished, and the Archbysshop come down out of the Pulpit, the reader of the same couent arose and came to him saying: My Lord, your grace had forgotten one text which is this: Thy Nacion and thy Bysshops haue deliuered thee vnto me. Againe, the same Archbysshop preached another time against Masters & Rea∣ders in the vniuersities, how they clothed themselues in softe apparell, and sought to bee magnified and placed in the chiefe seates in the scooles, and Churches, and sutch like. Shortly af∣ter the same Archbysshop chanced to meete with a Reader, in a very foule and dirty place. Then said the Archbysshop to the Reader, what do you here Master Ammirandu••? for that was his name: Mary my Lord (quoth he) I come to make cleane & neate mine apperell wherof your Grace spake of late and therewith all he shewed him his tayle all dirty behinde.

An Archbishop beeyng in visitation, sharply punished a cer∣tayn Lady Prioresse of a Nunrie for trespaces which she had

committed, whom shée earnestly intreated that in considera∣tion of a piece of money, hee would in part remit the punish∣ment. But he deneying so to do, saying, that he loued her not, and therfore he would not pleasure her so mutch: I thinke so quoth she, and wel beléeue it, for there was neuer yet Capon that loued an Hen.

Chap. 27. Of Byshops, and their mery iestes.

ONe thinkyng to get the goodwill of a Byshop by flatterie, said vnto him, my Lord, if your Lordship would take lesse paines you might liue yet fiue yéeres, but if you continued so still you will scarce liue two yéeres to an end. Who answe∣red, I had rather be a good Bishop two yeres, then an ill By∣shop fiue yéeres.

One obiected vnto a Bishop, that he was to couetous, for that by keping a nigardly house, he had saued mony enough to redéeme his Church lands which his predicessour had layd to morgage. But he answered that he was far more liberal then his predicessour, for (sayd he) I haue payd his debts and mine owne also.

A Bishop in France, promised Philip the French Kynge, y^t the first Prebend y^t fell in his gift, he would giue it to whome soeuer it pleased the Kynge. And when many fell voyde, and the kyng was pleasured with none, he was sore offended. To whom y^e Bishop sent this answer, desiring his grace not to be offended, for he had yet giuen neuer an one of them, but sould them all.

The Bishop of Mentz coursed an Hart, and after long rū∣nyng, the beast leapt into a deepe ponde, and a greate Pike caught him fast by the throat. And when the Hart came out of the water, hee brought the Pike with him hanginge by his throat, and so hée tooke them bothe, and sent pieces of them a∣bread for present to his friends.

A certain Priest was accused vnto the bishop of the Dio∣cesse for buriyng his dead Asse solemly with Dirige, & Masses of Requiem. And béeing much rebuked for so doing he certified the Bishop that it was a very godly Asse, & had made a will, & had bequea••hed his Lordship fiue pounde, which he had now

brought vnto him. And when the Bishop had receiued the mo∣ney, he said, let him then rest in peace, & so discharged y^e priest.

A noble younge Gentlemen that was a schollar in Paris, sayd that all Bishops in France were blinde, bicause they gaue not som good benefice to his maister, beyng but poore, and well learned. Not long after, being himself made a Bishop, he was so blinded with his spirituall promotion, that he nei∣ther gaue his poore maister any thing, but on a time when he came to Paris, his Maister went and met him, bearyng a cou∣ple of Waxe candles burnyng in his hand. And when the Bishop asked him why hée did so: hée answered, bycause your lordship should sée mée, for you are blinde.

A certain Bishop had many yonge Nephewes and Kins∣folkes in his house, which alwaies sat at meate at a low table before him, and whensoeuer any preferment fell voyde, he re∣pulsed other, and bestowed it vpon one of those. Then a man of worship, whom the Bishop had bid to dinner, set himself downe at the childrens Table. And béeing demaunded by the Bishop why hée did so, hée answered that hée could not be pre∣ferred sittyng at any other Table, neither knew he any other then those that sat there, aduanced by him vnto any dignitie.

Chap. 28. Of Archdeacons.

AN Archdeacon being in visitatiō, spent whole daies in fea¦sting & making good chéere, when the people looked that he should haue preached vnto them the word of God. And as hee was going from hearyng Masse vnto dinner, an olde woman sayd vnto him y^t they looked for that which was his dutie to do meaning, to shew them their duties out of the word of God. Well (quoth the Archdeacon) I will not call thée to counsell what I had best to do. But shée answered, surely he had small care of our soules that put them in trust to thée.

An Archdeacon visited his parish Church, from which hée was promoted vnto the Archdeaconrie. And there came vnto him an husband man to aske counsell, saying: M. Archdeacon I married a poore wife, and now I know where I may haue a ritch one, is it lawful for mée to f••rsake the poore one, and to take the ritche? The Archdeacon answered, by no meanes.

Then said y^e husbandmā, but you haue forsaken a poore church and keepe a ritch Archdeaconry. Which he hearing, gaue vp his Archdeaconry, and returned to his owne Churche.

A certein Priest against his Archdeacon shoulde come in visitacion, hauinge none other prouision, killed a litle Asse which hee had, and dressed him in the stead of Veale, and whē the Archdeacon fead hungerly theron at dinner and y^e Priest himselfe woulde eate none, the Archdeacon demaunded the cause. Then quod the Priest, your Mastership saith y^t I haue wit and learning litle ynough already, and therefore I neede to eate no asses fleash. When the Archdeacon heard this, he arose from the table in a rage, and immediatly departed.

chap. 29. Of Canons and their mery Iests.

IVlius in his booke of Bees, writeth an history of one Philip that was Chancellour of Paris, who hauing many benefices was in his sicknes admonished by the Bysshop to resigne thē vp, for feare of longer incurring Gods displeasure: who an∣swered that hee would try the truth of that, béefore the greate iudge. But shortly after hee was dead, hee appeared vnto the Bysshop like a shadow, and sayd: I most miserable wretch am damned, and that cheifly for thrée causes: First for my fruites which I kept from the poore: Secondly for my pluralitye of benefices: And lastly for my detestable whoredome. Moreo∣uer hee sayd, is the world yet at an end? Then quod the Bys∣shop, I marueill that thou hauinge in thy life time beene a great clarke, and seeing mee and other liuing, who must all die beefore that day come, shouldest aske mee that question? But hee sayd marueill not at all, for in hell there is neither knowlegde, nor reason. Maister Albertus sayd vnto a Canon of Colein, which came home from the Court with a dispensa∣tion to haue many benefices: Before you might haue gone to Hell without licence, and now you must néedes go thither by vertue of your dispensation.

There was a Canon which had two Canonries, one in one Church, another in another, y^e dreamed one night y^e two sta∣ues were reatched vnto him, and the same night y^e bishops of both Churches died. Then some of his familiars expounding

his dreame, said that he should be chosen bishop in both places and riding out the next day morninge, he fell from his horse and brake both his legges, and was faine to go with two crut∣ches to beare himselft vp withall.

Chap. 30. Of the Hault and Lame.

ON a time there came vnto a sanctes church, so many hault and Lame people to be cured, y^t the Priest could not driue them foorth. Then said the priest, giue me your staues & I wil heale you all. And when he had them, he sent for fier, & beinge demaunded what he would do with it: Burne him y^t is most lambe, quoth he, that you may all be healed with his Asshes. And when they heard this, they ran all away.

Cap. 31. Of Priests.

A Certain poore lecherous Priest had a concubine, whom he loued well, wherof the Archedeacon hearing, comman∣ded him either to forsake his Church, or to leaue his concubin But being loth to depart from his Concubine, he resigned his benefice, and when the harlot saw that he had nothing now to liue withall, she would tarie no lenger with him, and so he lost both profit and pleasure together.

A certein Priest had two Concubines, one yonge, another olde: The younge bicause she would haue the Priest to be like herselfe, pluckt all the gray heares out of his head, and the olde pluckt away al the blacke, vntill betwéen them both thei had made him bald, not only in head, but also in his goods, and minde.

A poore aged woman, being weake and like to die, bequea∣thed vnto a Priest one Hen which shée had, to bée deliuered after her departure. But the Priest came and tooke away the Hen while she was yet liuinge. Then sayde the olde wo∣man, I perceiue that Priests bée worse then the Diuell, for many a time haue I giuen my Hen to the Diuell, & the Foxe and they haue letten her alone, and now haue giuen her but once to a Priest, and hée taketh her away.

There was a Priest which vsed to cary holy water, as they termed it, about vnto his friends & parishoners houses, &, whē

he came to a certein ritchmans house, he was sure of nothing els but rayling, curses, and euil language. It fortuned that he caught a sore in one of his legges, and at the Priests next cū∣mynge thither, he ma••e him good cheere, and desired him to pray for him. Then quod the Priest, I pray God sende your other legge to bee sore also, that you may bee more deuoute. Which the ritch man hearinge, well bumbasted the Priest, and with strayning his leg found the pain to be eased. This or the like is alwaye the end of vngodly prayers.

Chap. 32. Of Abbots and their Iests.

IT is read in the booke intitled vitae patrum, that it belonged vnto the duty of one Arsenius an Abbot, alwayes to prouide an Abbot for a certein Monastarie beeing destitute, who sent vnto them a schollar of his owne bringynge vp, one that was religious and seuere. But when the Munkes could not away with him, he sent them another y^t was calme & gentle, & fin∣ding him to be soft and tractable, thei yet misliked him and re∣quired another. Then said Arsenius, I haue sent you twayne, whom I my self haue bought vp, and I know that neither of them is destitute of the grace of y^e holy ghost, who appeared in the forme of fire, & of a Doue, and in none other likenesse y^t I haue heard: And therfore I can prouide you none other.

A certein Abbot came suddeinly vpon a company of Munks as they were talkinge, & when they saw him, they were abas∣shed. Then sayd the Abbot, wherof were you talkyng? Wher∣vnto one y^t had the rediest wit among them answered, of your Lordship. And what said you of me, qouth the Abbot? Surely we were talkyng, said the Munke, how you and other Abbots can so soone waxe euill. Mary answered the Abbot, bicause wee be made of so ill stuffe, that is to say, of Monkes.

An Abbot being in the Chapter house among the Munkes, said that he had no pleasure nor rest, but payn & vexacion both of body & minde in the office, & that he was no lord, but rather their seruant and vnderling. To whom the munkes answe∣red: Midsummer and the feast of S. John the Baptist is now at hand, go play thy self sumwhere els, for wee will haue thy seruice no longer, and so depriued him of his office.

The Abbots roome of S. Dennise in France being voyde, and the tyme of the election drawing neere, the Prouost of the same house, offred vnto the king fiue hundred pound for his good wyl, the Chamberlayne as much, and the Sellerer as much also: all whiche money hee seuerally willed them to deliuer vnto his Chamberlaine. When the day appointed for the election was come, and the king was sat downe vnder his cloth of estate, those three aboue named gaping euery one for the preferment, the king called vnto him a simple Munke which sate in a corner, and made him Abbot: who alleaging his insufficiencie for it, and the worthynes of many other in the Couent: the king smiling, I wyl supply your want, quod bee, and giue you fifteene hundred poundes toward your charges, (which was the Prouostes, Sel∣lerers, and Chamberlaines money.) and besides helpe you with the best counsell and ayde otherwyse that I can. An Abbot of Paris, comming into the schooles at the Quodlibets, demaunded this question, whether it were better to knowe a litle good and to followe it, or to know much and follow nothing? It was an∣swered that the first was the best. Then, quod the Abbot, you bée all fooles, that learne many sciences and followe none.

Chap. 33. Of Priours and of their merie Iestes.

IN the Priorie of Ramessa there dwelt a Priour that was very liberal, which caused these verses to be written euer his doore:

Be open euermore, ô thou my doore, To none bee shut, to honest or to poore.

But after his death, there succéeded him another whose name was Raynhard, as gréedie and couetous, as the other was boun∣tifull and liberall, who kept the same verses there stil, changing nothing therein but onely one point, and made them runne af∣ter this manner:

Bee open euermore ô thou my doore To none, bee shut to honest or to poore.

Afterwarde béeing driuen from thence for his extreme nig∣gishnesse, it grewe into a prouerbe: that for one point Raynhard lost his Priorie. A Priour hauing gheastes to dinner, caused his

seruauntes to mingle water with the wyne, to the intent it might stretche the farther. And perceiuing one of the Munkes to bée very talkatiue, and full of wordes, sayde vnto him: Brother when wyll your myll leaue clacking? It cannot leaue sir, quod the Munke, as long as ye geue it so muche water. A Priour sayd vnto one of his Munkes, that he was lyke vnto God into thrée qualities: First that he could not sinne, for that he defended so much his owne innocencie at t••eyr Chapters: Next in know∣ing althinges, for hee went about from shop to shoppe to learne newe; what was done or sayd in any place: And thirdly in bée∣ing in euery place, for he wandred very much abroade. A cer∣tayne Munke displying the Priour and others after Complin, stroke very harde blowes vpon the Priours head. But méeting afterwarde at the Chapiter, the Priour sayde vnto the Munke: Brother, you know not yet wel how to displie. But when you disple the Priour, you must strike handsomely and gently, and not thus, and thus, and buffeted him well fauouredly about the eares, and so was euen with the Munke for his hard displying.

Chap. 34. Of many merie Iestes of Munkes.

SOmetyme there was a young Munke in an Abbey, who al∣wayes went casting his eyes to the grounde, and was very milde and lowly in behauiour. Afterwarde beyng made Priour, hee helde vp his h••ad aloft▪ and was very seuere and arrogant, which seeming strange vnto them that knew him before, & being demaunded the cause of so great alteratiō: Answered, that before he alwaies looked on the earth for the keies of y^e Abbey, if haply hee might find them: which now hauing found, he looked no more on the ground, but beare himself according to the dignitie wher∣unto he was called. An old Munke sitting in y^e quire▪ fell a sléepe, and dreamed that there came vnto him a foule long slouen with such a filthy wispe as they vse to rub horses withal, and looking grimly vpon hym, would forcibly haue wyped his face there∣with. But hee striuing to escape from him, pluckt backe his head and knocked it agaynst the wal, and so awaked. A Munke being deuout in his prayers, one asked him if he would drinke, who

wagged his finger, signifiyng that hée would not. Then sayd the Munkes seruaunt, my master meaneth that he would drinke a cup of white wine. But when the Munke beck••ned with two fingers, signifiyng that he would haue none at all, and it was demaunded of his seruaunt what hee ment therby, hee answered that hee would also haue-a cup of red wine, so the mast••r dranke but litle and the knaue dranke vp all the residue. A certayne Munke leading his horse to the water, saw a countrey fellowe going ouer a bridge driuing an asse before him so heauily laden, that hée could scarce mooue one foote by another, whom the coun∣trey fellowe notwithstanding beate forwarde without pitie or mercy. Then sayd the Munke, why wylt thou kyll thy beast bee∣ing laden? The fellow answered, he is not so laden, but hée wyll carrie al the pacience of your Abbey, whereat the Munke was very wrath. Then sayd the fellowe: The dumbe beast murmu∣reth not vnder his burden, and you are out of patience for one words speaking. A certayne Frier comming vnto the gate of an Abbey, séeyng that hee could not get in, range the bell very hard, and a Munke comming to the gate, asked why hée range? then sayd the Frier, I ring for the charitie which is gone a way from the Abbey, which the Munke hearing, tooke the bell and range harder then hée had done. What meaneth this, then quod the Frier. Then quod the Munke, I ring for the pacience which is departed from your Frierie.

Chap. 35. Of merie Iestes of preaching Friers.

IT is written in the Cronicles of Friers, that after the Lateran counsell, when the Pope traueyled into the coastes of Toledo, about certayne affayres, and would write vnto Dominick the Frier: hée sayd vnto the Notarie, write vnto Dominick the Frier, and to the residue of the preaching Friers. Then staying a while: write quod hee, vnto master Dominick, and to the prea∣ching Friers: and after that tyme they began to bée called the preaching Friers. A certayne Frier tossing the pot, and drin∣king very often at the table, was reprehended by the Priour. Then sayd the Frier. It is an olde prouerbe, that a man ought

to drinke after a good saying. And there were so many read euen now, that there is not wine ynough to drinke after them all: for at that tyme the booke of the prouerbes of Salomon was read at the table. One master Hugh, an Officiall, hauing a Frier at his table at dinner, and seeing that he could not eate of the bread because it was so harte, asked of him why he dyd not eate? to whom the Frier answered: If thou bee the Sonne of GOD, commaunde these stones to bee made bread. Frier Nicholas of Bronsbarch, an auncient & •• reuerend father would often declare, how he was the Duke of Sa••ons sonne, and after this manner. The Duke dreamed that the Dutches his wyfe, béeing with chylde, should beare a chylde that should bee poore and a begger, and therefore when she was deliuered, hee commaunded the childe to bee slayne, because hee shoulde not shame hym. But the Dutches béeing mooued with motherly pitie, deliuered her sonne vnto a poore knights wife, to bring vp as her owne, and hée en∣creased in learning and knowledge, and taking himselfe to bee that poore knightes sonne, hée entred into the order, that the Dukes dreame myght be fulfilled. At length when he was made a maister of his order, and came into Saxonie: the Dutchesse much reioyced in him, and tolde him al the whole matter. How∣beit hee long tyme refused to credite her, supposing himselfe in déede to haue béen the poore knightes sonne.

Chap 36. Of Friers called Minours, and of their merie Iestes.

A Certaine Minour Frier had displeased Boniface the Pope, and by the Friers of the same order he was deliuered vnto him. Who being brought before the Pope, and desiring pardon, sayde the Pope vnto him, thine owne nation and thy Bishops haue deliuered thee vnto mée. To whom the Frier in his owne defence answeares: He that deliuered mee vnto thée, hath the more sinne. At which answeare the Pope being delited, sent him away free. A certen woman of Brunswik, bequeathed vn∣to the Minour Friers (of whose fraternitie shée was,) one gar∣ment

worth a noble. But whē the Antoniās came to the towne and preached great pardons and indulgencies of their frater∣nitie, this woman hearyng thereof, carried hyr garment vnto them, which they receyued with great thanks. Which when the Minors vnderstoode: they blamed hyr much for so doing, who made them answeare that all fraternities were one fraterni∣tie. Then the Minours vnderstanding that the Antonians had there in the towne a S. Antonies pig, that was fat and worth a marke, they tooke him home to theyr house and killed him. And when the Antonians complayned thereof, for that it was to great an iniurie, the Minours answeared that the pigge be∣longed vnto their fraternitie, for that all fraternities are one fraternitie. In the ende the matter being brought before the iudges of the citie, it was agreed vpon that euery one shoulde keepe that which he had, and take better h••••de hereafter.

A certaine Minour Frier of Brunswik fell mad, but notwith∣standing▪ hée could helpe to Masse. And seing the Priours man bearing a great Capon in a platter, whose legges hunge a great way ouer the platters side, he ran vnto him, enquiring of him whether it were a Crane or a Capon? But the seruant sharp∣ly rebuked him away, and would not tell him. In the morning after, when the Priour should say Masse, he would helpe him. And when the Priour began Confiteor, that is to say, I confesse, (a superstitious part of the Masse:) Now sayd this Frier, tel me whether it were a capon or a Crane which you had yesternight to supper, else I will not absolue you? Then the Priour taking compassion vpon his follie, sware vnto him by God that it was a capon. Then said the Frier, Misereatur vestri, &c. God forgiue you, and so forth, and they procéeded in theyr l••usines. On a time when many minour Friers comming frō the Chapter, flocked vnto a certayne citizens house, carrying with them wyne and o∣ther prouision to make good cheere: the townesman vnderstan∣ding therof (for he had béen foorth) caused the Belinan to ring a∣larme at the doore, and to cry out aloude as though there had béen enimies comming, which noyse the Friers hearing, and fearing the losse of their horses, and their almes: in all hast ga•• vp into theyr wagons, and rode away as fast as they could, & the good∣man

of the house came in, and tooke the wyne and other prouisi∣on, which lasted him to make merie withall many dayes after,

Chap. 37. Of diuers merie Iestes of Nouices.

A Certaine Nouice of y^e order of the Preaching Friers, being in place amōg other Friers where they cōtended of y^e excel∣lencie of their orders, euery man preferring his own before the othe••: thē sayd this Nouice, is it true y^t euery thing which christ did is for our instruction? Y••a, saide the Friers. But I neuer reade, quod the Nouice, that our sauiour Christe was either a blacke, white, or gray Frier, but hearing that he was a poore Pr••acher, I had rather follow his steppes therein, then any o∣thers. The Earle of Blankenburgh hearing that his Sonne, whom he sent vnto Paris to studie, was become a Nouice: he roo••e thither to bring him from thence. Then sayde his sonne, I would go with you, if you could assure me of one thing. What is that, quod the father? The sonne answeared: that I may be sure not to die so soone when I am abroade, as when I continue here. Which the father hearing, and perceyuing his obstinacie, with sorow departed, and let him alone. A certaine poore man had put his sonne to stud••e at Paris, vpon whose maintenaunce he bestowed all that euer he could earne, thinking that he should haue kept and relieued him in his old age. But when hee was entred into the order of preachyng Friers, his father weepyng and lamenting thereat, asked him why he had done so, who an∣sweared, bicause I woulde liue in pouertie. That might you haue done, sonne, quod the father, if you had ta••ied at home with mee, and neuer haue gone out of the doores, for you should haue found there pouertie inough. A certaine Nouice entred into the order at Paris, and as he was going to bedde at night, a lampe fell downe and al the oile was spilt vpon him. Then they brought him vnto his bed, where were wollen sheetes layde vpon a bed of straw, and he was commaunded to keepe silence. The next day morning, when the other Friers came vnto him, and asked him howe he fared, and was vsed since he came into the order: He answeared, yesternight I was anoynted, and layd vpon strawe, and made dumbe. One Frier Humbert a maister of the order, carrying with him certaine Nouices vnto

Lions, came to a village where they coulde get no meate. At length an old womā brought them a litle bread vnto the bridge whereon they sate, whiche when the Nouices had eaten, he as∣ked hir if she had any more, and she brought another piece, and the younge men eate it immediatly very greedily. The thirde time he willed hyr to fetche more, if she had any: which she did, and they eate it vp all straight wayes. Then sayde the Mast••r vnto the Nouices, he will prouide you bread, that encreased the fiue loa••es in the wildernes, reciting vnto them the whole sto∣rie out of the Euangelist, and howe there were twelue baskets fu••lle••t, ouer and besides that which was eaten. Now by Je∣sus quod the old woman, you be no such, for you haue left none at all.

Chap. 38. Of merie Iestes of Connertites.

A Certaine Conn••rti••e seruing in an Abbey, wayted vpon the Abbot, Priour, and Monkes at a feast, after that they came from the Chapter, where there was much good cheere prepared. And hauing many disshes to carrie in, when he had brought in the first, he sayd, there is no more, and likewise at the second he sayde, there is no more, and so at euery one. Then the compa∣nie being offended that they had fedde so much of one dishe, se∣ing there was plentie, & that they were so filled that they could not tast of the other: demaunded of him, why he sayde alwayes at euery dishe that there was no more? In deede, sayde hee, I spake that woorde, but I meant it not of meate, but of Paradise. For in this worlde you will weare soft apparell, eate delicate meates, ride with great traynes, and liue in all pleasure, and therefore I meant that you shall haue no more in the worlde to come. All the Cattell belonging vnto a certaine Monasterie, were carried away to the pound a good way of, and the Abbot sent a simple Connertite whiche was in the house, to bring thē home, cōmaunding him that he should not come againe emptie, but bring what soeuer he could get. But when hee whiche had them in pound, had answeared him that he should not haue them, notwithstanding if he woulde sit downe and eate meate with him, he should be welcome: he fead very greedely. Which the Master of the house beholding, and reprouing him somwhat

therefore: he declared what commaundement was giuen vnto him, and bicause he could beare nothing else home with him, he would carrie at least wise as much as his belly would hold. Then all the companie laughed well, and perceyuing the simpli∣citie of the man, gaue him all that he required.

Chap 39. Of many merie Iestes of Nunnes.

THe Nunnes of a certaine Monasterie had this custome, that when any of them were deliuered of childe, she should vse recreations, and bathings, and other things necessarie for wo∣men in that case, and the Nunnes would come a gossipping vn∣to hyr, and bring h••r presents. But bicause that the correction that belonged to the order shoulde not be abrogated, at the mo∣neths ende she must come naked into the Chapterhouse before them all, and receyue three strypes at euery one of hir sisters handes with a Fore tayle, whiche alwayes hunge vp in the Chapter house for that purpose. In a certaine Monasterie were a companie of olde Nunnes, that had bene good fel∣lowes in their youth, vnto whom the yong Nunnes cleaued ve∣ry fast. It fortuned the olde ladie Prioresse died, and there suc∣ceeded one that was more seuere in hir roume which forbad the comming in of religious men, or any other vnto them. So that the yong Nunnes seing themselues restrayned of their libertie, sayde vnto the elder Nunnes: happie are you, Sisters, for you lost your virginiti•• in your youth, whiche if you had nowe, there were as small hope for you to loose it as is for vs. A certaine Nunne conf••ssing ••yr selfe vnto a Bishop, that she had sinned in the acte of the fl••sh: he sharply reproued hyr for so doing, and de∣maund••d what cause moued hyr thereto, and shee answeared, good reason, for it is written, proue all thing. Yea, sayde the Bi∣shop, but if you had read all that text, you had not done it, for it fo∣loweth in the same place, keepe that whiche is good. But shée answeared, O my Lorde, I did not turne ouer the leafe.

One, Frier Conrade, dining once in a Nunrie, called at the table for vineger, and the Nunnes sayde then had none. That is maruell, quod the Frier, beyng so many broken vessels in the house.

Chap. 40. Of many merie iestes of systers.

A Certaine Syster in a Priory, béeing an old mery wenche, made her boast that none could finde any fault with her be∣hauior. For sayd shée, if I laugh it is good fellowship, if I wéepe it is deuotion, if I speake it is Philosophie, if I holde my peace it is religion, if I sléepe it is quietnesse, if I ryse it is a vision, and so of many thinges more. But thée forgat one thing, that the more shee gloryed, the more foole shée was counted.

A mery fellow that would faine set out the ydle occupations, wherin the systers busyed them selues: He made a ••yrle, wher∣in hée painted how thrée systers were stealing of one goose: one helde him by the legge, another layde a knife vppon his necke: and the the third strake the knife with an hammar: and round about the cyrcle it was thus written: Looke how these thrée ho∣lye systers are occupied about stealing of a goose, so are all the rest also. Certaine systers conferred togyther on a tyme, by what deathes they would wyshe to dye. One sayd I would de∣syre to bée hanged in the coard of contemplacion, according to the saying of Iob. The other sayd, I would choose to bée buryed in the graue of humilitie. The thyrde coueted to bée burnt in the fyre of charitye: And the fowrth to bée drowned in the teares of compunction. But howe farre theyr inwarde thoughtes were differing from theyr outward hipocrisy, theyr holie and chast liues dyd well declare. A syster being in the monasterie bare headed and in her peticote onely: two Friars knocked at the gate, and shée ran to the gate and opened it. And being ashamed bicause shée was bare headed, shée tooke vp the tayle of her peticoate to cast ouer her head, and vncouered her naked buttockes, and ran away as fast as shée could. Then one of the Fryars calling vnto her, wylled, her to couer her naked partes, saying, it is better to sée a womans bare top, then her bare tayle. It fortuned that in a Priorye one night, there was a Priest founde a bed with one of the systers, vnto whose chamber many other of the systers flocked to sée the syght. And when another of the systers, in whose bed a;lso at that present there laye a Priest, heard this styrre, making hast to goe see the

other, thinking to couer her head with her accustomed vayle, threw the Priests breaches vpon her head, and came vnto that mery or rather lamētable spectable to bewayle y^t case among y^• other, as though shée had bene gyltie of no such matter. But when one of the systers saw the breach: O syster sayd shée, and dearely beloued fellowe, what thing is this, or what meaneth this strange sight? who then beholding her owne naughtinesse, was much astonished, and because of this accident, the other escaped vnpunished, for that shée was founde not to bée in that faulte alone.

Chap. 41. Of many merye Dreames.

VAlerius in the first booke and seuenth Chapter, writeth, that Alexander the king of Macedonie, was warned of the hand y^t should slay him in his dreame, before that he felt it to be true in effect, for he thought that he sawe him in his sléepe y^t should kyll him. And shortly after, when he saw the partie, and knew that he was Antipaters sonne, he declared the vanitie of his dreame, and he cast out of his minde the suspicion which hée had conceyued of the poyson, whereof he dyed at Cassanders handes. Lykewise he telleth that whylst Amilcar, that was captaine of the Carthagians, lay in siege about the Cittie of Sy∣racuse, he thought that in his dreame he hearde a voyce which sayd, that the night following he should suppe within the City. Then Amilcar being carelesse, or rather thinking himself sure of the victorie, was somewhat negligent in not loking careful∣lye to his Armie, vpon whome the Syracusians issuing forth the next daye, possessed his tentes, tooke him prisoner, and led him into the Citie, where the same night he supped not as a conque∣rour, but as a captiue. Fryer Iohn of Duren, dreamed one nyght, that hée rode vpon a snayle, hauing two long hornes, & that his armes touched the grounde, and how the boyes in the str••etes seeing him, laughed and shouted at him: after which dreame, as he sayd, he had verye good fortune, but wherein, he would not tell. A countrey man dwelling neere Ratis∣bona, dreamed that vpon the bridge at Ratisbona he should find great treasure. And comming thyther in the morning verye

earlye for that purpose, he met with a rytch man which asked him what he sought, and he told him the cause of his comming, and how and whereof he had dreamed the night before. Then the rytch man vp with his fyst, & gaue him a boxe on the eare, saying: Ah foole, wylt thou beleeue dreames? I my selfe drea∣med this night, how that in the vyllage of Regendolf in such a place, (naming a certaine farme place) I shoulde finde a great summe of money, but I meane not to be so much a foole as to goe séeke it. But when the countrey man heard this, and per∣ceyuing that it was his owne farme where he dwelt, thought within himself, it is happie for mee that I came hyther this day to haue a boxe on the eare, & going home immediatlye, dygged in the place which the other named, and found a ritch treasure.

A certaine Cannon in VVerda nigh to the Rhine, which ne∣uer could make verse in all his lyfe, dreamed of these two ver∣ses in his sléepe, which he remembred well when he awaked, to this effect.

The wordes of reuenge, a bytter doome hath giuen on thee. Though thou ne knowest, how that thy life shall shortly ended bee.

And when he had openly told it at the table, one of his family∣ars said vnto him, what euer it should signify, if I were in your case, I would take order with my goodes, & dispose them as I thought best, whatsoeuer should befall: but others sayd it was but a tryfle, & that dreames were not to be accoumpted of. But he being stroken into a dumpe, gat him vpon his horse, & tooke his hawke vpon his fyst, & roade abroade into the fieldes for pleasure, to digest the melancholy. And comming homeward at night, where he must ryde ouer a bridge y^t lay ouer an arme of the Rhine, his horse began to striue and plunge, and threwe them both headlong into the Rhine, and there were drowned.

Chap. 42. Of diuers and sundrie Artificers.

MAcrobius in the second booke of the Saturnalia, wryteth y^t when Seruilius of Rome, beheld the children of Mallius, an excellēt painter, how mishapen & euyl fauored they were, sayd vnto him, Mallius why doest thou not paint likewise aswel for thy selfe, as thou doest for other men? To whome Mallius an∣swered, I deuise in the night time, but I paynt in the day.

One Gallatricus a keruer, made Pismares of yuorie of so small quantitie, that they were no bygger, neyther coulde be discerned from those Pismares that lyued in déede.

A certaine Shoemaker dwelling in a Cittie of Lumbardie, was made a Judge in certaine causes, before whome one of the same occupation had a mater then presently to be handled. And perceyuing himselfe to bée in some daunger, came vnto this Shoemaker Judge whereas he sate in iudgement, and se∣cretly requested him to bée fauourable vnto him, saying more-ouer vnto him: Doe you not know mée syr? I am such a friend, and somtyme a fellow of yours. But he aunswered him chur∣lishlye, and sayde, stande away and trouble mée not, for at this present I knowe neyther thée, nor my selfe.

Many mo examples, and sayinges might bée alleadged of Artificers, of whome there is no speciall treatise made in this booke. But because I haue already touched the chiefest sorts and degrées, and it were impossible to run through all: I shall request the louing Reader to holde himselfe contented with these fewe, which I haue gathered togyther for his de∣lyte, and to receyue them for his part as friendly, as I haue wyllinglye employed the tra∣uayle to wry••e them.

FINIS.

T.T.

¶A Table contayning the principall mat∣ters comprised in this present worcke of Table Philosophie. And these are the contentes of the first booke, which is Philosophie naturall.

• THe Preface into the first booke. Of the times to eate, and howe often in one daye we should eate meate. Chap. 1.
• Of appetite, and of the custome in eating. Chap. 2.
• Of the order of meates, and eating of them. Chap 3.
• Of the place to eate in. Chap. 4.
• Of meats & drinks wherwith men be refreshed at the table. Cha. 5.
• Of wine and the properties there∣of. Chap. 6.
• Of mead and the properties there∣of. Chap. 7.
• Of double beere and ale. Cha 8.
• Of fleshe in generall. Cha. 9.
• Of the fleshe of wyld beasts. Ca. 10.
• Of Kiddes fleshe. Chap. 11.
• Of Lambe. Chap. 12.
• Of Mutton. Chap. 13.
• Of veale. Chap. 14.
• Of Porke. Chap. 15.
• Of Deeres flesh, or venison. Ca. 16.
• Of Hares fleshe. Chap. 17.
• Of Beares fleshe. Chap. 18.
• Of the parts of beasts. Cha. 19.
• Of baked flesh, or pyes. Cha. 20.
• Of Fowles in generall. Cha. 21.
• Of Pultrey. Cha. 22.
• Of young Pigeons. Cha. 23.
• Of the partes of Fowles. Cha. 24
• Of egges and the propertyes ther∣of. Cha. 25.
• Of mylke. Cha. 26.
• Of cheese. Cha. 27.
• Of fyshes. Chap. 28
• Of all kinds of fetches or podware, as: Rice, Beanes, Lentiles, Chit∣ches. Peason. Cap. 29.
• Of Pot hearbes, and sallet hearbs, as: Garlike, Sorrell, Dyll, Smal∣lage, Arrage, Bancia, Beetes, Bor∣rage. Colewoorts, Onions, Gour∣des, Comin, Fennell, Isope, Let∣tice, Mintes, Cresses, Poppie, Perceley, Leekes, Purcelain, Ra∣dishe, Rapes, Rue, Sage, Spinage, Mushrumes. Chap. 30.
• Of fruytes, as: Figges, Dates, Ray∣sons, Pomegranats, Quinces, Peares, Aples, Peaches, Medlars, Pome citrons, Mulberies, Plums, Cherries, Almonds, Nuttes, Fyl∣berds, Chestnuts, Akorns. Ca. 31.
• Of Spices, as: Pepper, Ginger, Ze∣doarie, Galangall, Cloues, Cina∣namon, Saffron, Carrowayes. Cha. 32.
• Of Sauces, as: Mustard, Salt, Vine∣ge••, Honie, Oyle. Chap. 33.

The contents of the second Booke of Table Philosophie, which is morall.

• The Preface.
• Of Emperours. Chap. 1.
• Of Kings. Chap. 2.
• Of Princes. Chap. 3.
• Of the gentle Byshops. Chap. 4.
• Of Noble men. Chap. 5.
• Of Knightes. Chap. 6.
• Of Squires. Chap. 7.
• Of VVarriours. Chap. 8.
• Of Philosophers and Oratours. Chap. 9.
• Of Phisitions. Chap. 10.
• Of Yongmen. Chap. 11.
• Of old men. Chap. 12.
• Of Citizins. Chap. 13.
• Of Marchants. Chap. 14.
• Of Husbandmen and Husbandrie. Chap. 15.
• Of Artificers. Chap. 16.
• Of Ritchmen. Chap. 17.
• Of Pooremen. Chap. 18.
• Of Religious persons. Chap. 19.
• Of strangers & Pilgrims. Chap. 20.
• Of Hunters. Chap. 21.
• Of Iudges. Chap. 22.
• Of Lawiers. Chap. 23.
• Of Lords baylifes. Chap. 24.
• Of Friends & friendship. Chap. 25.
• Of Kinsfolkes. Chap. 26.
• Of good wemen. Chap. 27.
• Of naughtie wemen. Chap. 28.
• Of Married weemen. Chap. 29.
• Of good widowes. Chap. 30.
• Of Virgins. Chap. 31.

The contents of the third Booke of Ta∣ble Philosophie, which is naturall.

• THe Preface.
• VVhether aire or meate be more necessarie for life?
• VVhether meat or drinke is more necessarie for life?
• VVhether sleepe or meat be more profitable for the bodie?
• VVhether meat or aire nourish more? Chap. 1.
• VVhether can good blood be ingendred of ill meat?
• VVhether simple or compound meat be soonest digested?
• VVhether it be good to walke immediatly after meat?
• VVhether it be good to sleepe immediatly after meat?
• VVhy the appetite faileth, when the accustomed time of eating is past?
• VVhether our bodies be warmer before meat or after?
• ...

• VVhether fasting hurt more a cholerick or flegmatick complexion? Chap. 2.
• VVhy some desire much, and are filled with a litle meat?
• VVhether they that haue a strong heat can more tollerate hūger then they that haue a weake?
• VVhy they that haue narow powers can better abide hūger then they that haue wide?
• VVhether choler nourish?
• VVhether sicke persons can better fast then whole?
• ƲƲhether the strength of a strong stomacke can better tollerat fasting then of a weake?
• ƲƲhether he that vseth to eate much can better abide to fast then he that vseth to eat litle?
• ƲƲhether fasting anoy more in warme or cold seasons?
• VVhy are the greediest feeders soonest filled?
• VVhy we receiue hotter meates into our mouthes then we are able to abide in our handes. Chap. 3.
• VVhy if one that is hungry drink, it appeaseth hunger?
• VVhether those that fast are more a hungred then a thirst?
• VVhy it is more pleasure vnto vs when our thirst is quenched with drinke or when our hunger is appeased with meat?
• VVhy one kind of drinke seemeth stronger to one that is fasting then to one that is full?
• VVhether vnto them that are thirstie by a drie stomacke a litle drinke be sufficient?
• VVhether the stomack be burdened with much drinke?
• VVhy a moist stomack can beare much?
• VVhether thirst proceede at any time from the Lungues?
• VVhy thirst of the Lungues be appeased by drawing in of cold aire, and of the stomack by cold drinke?
• VVhether thirst be a desire of that which is cold and moist, or of that which is hot and drie?
• VVhether water slake thirst more then wine? Chap. 4.
• Of the hurtes which happen after meate, with the questions therto be∣longing. Chap. 5.
• Of Bread, and the questions therto apperteining. Chap. 6.
• Of wine, and the demandes therunto incident. Chap. 7.
• ...

• Of fleshe, with the proper questions thereof. Chap. 8.
• Of Egges, and the demaundes touching the same. Chap. 9.
• Of Fyshes, and their questions. Chap. 10.
• Of Pulse and Podware, with their probleames. Chap. 11.
• Of Pothearbes and Sallet hearbes, and their questions. Chap. 12.
• Of Fruites, and certaine demaundes concerning the same. Chap. 13.
• Of Salt, and the proper questions thereof. Chap. 14.
• Of hony and oyle, and motions touching their natures. Cha. 15.

❧ The contentes of the fowrth booke, of Table Philosophie, which morally treateth of honest myrth, and pleasaunt pastimes.

• He Preface.
• Of honest myrth and pastimes. Chap. 1.
• Of pleasaunt inuectiues. Cha. 2.
• Of speaches conuenient to euerye person. Chap. 3.
• Of apt pleasaunt wordes. Cha. 4.
• Of Emperours. Chap. 5.
• Of Kinges. Chap. 6.
• Of Princes. Chap. 7.
• Of Earles. Cha. 8.
• Of Knights and souldiors. Cha. 9.
• Of Squiers. Cha. 10
• Of Phisitions. Cha. 11.
• Of Lawiers & aduocates. Cha 12.
• Of Marchaunts. Chap. 13.
• Of Vserers. Chap 14
• Of Husbandmen. Chap. 15.
• Of Iewes. Chap. 16
• Of Theeues. Chap. 17.
• Of Iesters. Chap. 18
• Of weemen. Cha. 19.
• Of yong weemen & mayds. Ca. 20
• Of Children. Cha 21.
• Of Blindfolke. Cha. 22
• Of Fooles. Cha. 23.
• Of persons possessed. Cha. 24
• Of Popes. Cha 25.
• Of Cardinalles. Chap. 26
• Of Archbishops. Cha. 27
• Of Byshoppes. Chap. 28
• Of Archdeacons. Chap. 29
• Of Cannons. Chap. 30.
• Of the halt and lame. Chap. 31.
• Of Priestes. Chap. 32.
• Of Abbottes. Chap. 33.
• Of Priours. Chap. 34.
• Of Munkes. Chap. 35.
• Of Preaching Friers. Chap. 36.
• Of Minour Friers. Chap. 37
• Of Nouices. Chap. 38.
• Of Connertites. Chap. 39.
• Of Nunnes. Chap. 40.
• Of Systers. Chap. 41.
• Of Dreames. Chap. 42.
• Of sundric Artificers. Chap. 43.

Thus endeth the Table.