Fovvre seuerall treatises of M. Tullius Cicero conteyninge his most learned and eloquente discourses of frendshippe: oldage: paradoxes: and Scipio his dreame. All turned out of Latine into English, by Thomas Newton.

FANNIVS.

Your words be true, Laelius. For nei∣ther better, or nobler hath there ben¦anye then Aphricanus. But you must thincke that all men haue east their eyes vpon you, and that you onely, they call & repute wise. This title was attributed not long ago to M. Cato. We knowe y^t L. Acilius in our forefathers dayes was called wise: but eyther of theim in a ••ere

maner. Acilius, because he was taken for a man skilful in the Ciuile Law: Cato, (because he was of great experience, & beecause manye thinges were reported to bee by him boche in the Senate, and also in the place of Pleas, and Iudge∣ments, eyther wisely foreseene, or stout∣lie atchieued, or wittely aunswered) pur¦chased thereby now in his Oldage, as it were, a Sirname, to be called wise. But you, they call wise after an other sorte, not onely by nature, & maners, but also by studie and learning: and that not af∣ter the cōmon peoples accoumpt, but as the learned sorte are wonte to call one wise, euen such a one, as in all the rest of Greece is not the like. For they that na∣rowly rippe vpp these matters, doe not * 1.1 recken them in the number of wisemen who are called the Seauen wise sages, In deede, wee haue hearde of one at A∣thens, * 1.2 & such an one as by Apollo his O¦racle, was adiudged the wisest man in y^e world. This wisdome men thinke to bee in you, y^t you accoūpt al y^t, which is your * 1.3 own, to bee ledged win you, & that you thinke al worldly haps inferiour to ver∣tue. And for this cause (I beleue) they aske me & Scaeuola here also, after what

sort you take Aphricanus deathe: & the rather because these laste Nones, when we came into D. Brut{us} Augurs gardein (as y^e vsage is) to talke & reason of mat∣ters, you were not therat, who were al∣waies afore, wont to supply y^t day & that charge most diligētly.

SCAE.

In dede Laelius, many do aske y^t question, as Fā∣ni{us} hath already declared. But I shape to them this answere, y^t I wel perceiue you did moderatly beare the sorow whi∣che you cōceiued for y^e death of so noble a Gentlemā, & so louing a frēd: & that you could not chose but be somwhat perplex∣ed in mind: and y^t of your natural clemē∣cte, you could not otherwise doe.

And as cōcerning your absēce frō our cō¦pany these Nones, I laid for youre excu∣se, y^t sicknes, & not sorowe was the cause therof.

LAE.

You say very wel Scaeuo∣la. & truly. For neither ought I for anye losse of mine own, to be w^tdrawen frō ex∣ecuting y^t charge (which so lōg as I was in health I alwaies performed) neyther do I thinke y^t any such chaunce can hap∣pen * 1.4 to a constant man, whereby shoulde ensue any intermission of dutie.

And as for you Fannius, who say that

the world doth ascribe so much vnto me as I neyther agnize nor require, you do therein frendlye. But me thinckes you iudge not rightly of Cato: for eyther no * 1.5 man (which I rather beleeue) or if anye were, certes he was a wiseman. For (to passe ouer all other thinges vntouched) how tooke he the death of his sonne? I remēber Paulus, and I haue seene Cai∣us. But these maye not seeme to bee cō∣pared to the worthy and noble Cato.

And therfore beware how you preferre anye before Cato, no, not him, whom A∣pollo (as you say) adiudged y^e wisest: for of this man, his deedes, & of that other, his sayinges are commended.

But nowe (to aunswere you bothe at once) as concerning mine own self, thus stādeth the case. If I should flatly deny, that I am nothing at al greeued for the losse of Scipio, howe well I shoulde doe therein, let wisemen iudge: but truelye, I should tell you a stout lye. For I am * 1.6 plunged in heauines, being bereft of su∣che a frend, as (I thinke) neuer shalbee the like, and as I can well approue, ne∣uer hath any bene. But I neede no Phy∣sicke.

I comfort my selfe, and chieflye w^t this kinde of comfort, that I am not in y^t * 1.7 error, wherwith the more sort of men at the death of their frendes be commonly encombred. For I thincke that no man∣ner of hurte is happened vnto Scipio: myne is y^e harme, if any be. And for a mā to pine away w^t sorow for his own losses, is not the propertye of one y^t loueth hys frend, but of one rather that loueth him¦selfe. As for him, who can deny that he is not in blessed plight and estate? For, vnlesse hee woulde haue wished to haue lyued heere for euer (which thing surely was most farre frō his meaninge) what thing hath hee not obteined that was re∣quisite and lawfull for a man to wishe? Who presentlye at his entraunce into mans state, farre surmounted with hys singuler vertues, that great hope which the citizens had already cōceiued of him being yet a childe. Who neuer sued for the Consulship, and yet was twise made Consul: first, before his time: seconde∣ly, * 1.8 in respect of himselfe, in due & cōueni¦ēt time, but in respect of y^e cōmon wealth

almost to late. Who by subuerting two Citties, most bitter & deadly enemies to this Empire, not only eased vs frō broi∣les * 1.9 presēt, but also rid vs frō warres to come. What shal I say of his most cur∣teous manners? of his naturall zeale to∣wardes his mother? of his liberality to∣wards his sisters, of his boūtie towards his frēds, of his vpright dealing towar∣des al men? These things be wel knowē vnto you. And howe entierlye beloued hee was of all the Cittye, was testified by y^t moane y^t was made at his funerals. What therefore coulde the hauinge of a few yeres moe, haue profited him? For oldage, although it be not cōbersome (as I remēber Cato a yere before his death * 1.10 discoursed w^t me & Scipio) yet it taketh a way that gallantise, wherein Scipio as then was Wherfore his life was such, either throughe Fortune or glory, y^t no∣thing could be therūto added more. And his quicke departure quight toke away, al paine or sense of Death: of which kind of dying, it is an hard point, to determin any certeinty. What men do iudge, you know. Notwithstāding, this may I safe lye say, y^t among al the famous & ioyful

dayes, whiche P. Scipio in his life time saw, y^t day of al other was y^e noblest, whē as anone a••ter the breaking vp of y^e. Se∣nate, * 1.11 the day before he departed this life, he was honorably brought home in the euening, by the Lords of the coūsel, by y^t League frends of the Romaines, & by y^t Latines: so y^t frō so honorable a steppe of dignitie, he seemed rather to haue moū∣ted vp to heauen, thē to haue gone down to hel. For I cānot in anye wise agree w^t thē in opiniō, which of late brought thes matters into questiō, y^t the soules died w^t the bodies: & that death played swoope∣stake of al together. I make more accoūt then so, of the aucthority of aūcient per∣sons * 1.12 in thold time, & of our Elders, whi∣che appointed such reuerent lawes for y^e ••ead: which thing (doubtles) they would not haue done, if they had thought y^t no∣thing had concerned thē: & of thē which dwelled in this land, & instructed great Greece (which then florished, but now is quight destroyed (w^t their good lessōs, & precepts: & of him, y^t was by Apollo hys Oracle demed the wisest mā aliue, who did not affirme nowe one thinge, and now another (as manye doe) but con∣tinued alwayes in one Opinion, that

mennes soules were deuine, and that as∣sone as they be departed out of the body, the mindes of euery good and iuste man haue a very ready and spedy passage in∣to heauen. Of which opinion also Scipio was: who as though he should by inspi∣ration foretell a thing, a very few daies before his death (when both Philus and Manilius & diuers other were present, and when you your selfe, Scaeuola, com∣muned with mee) discoursed three whole * 1.13 dayes together of the common wealth: y^e last knitting vp of al which discourse, was in a maner concerning the immor∣talitie of the soule: all which (hee saide) hee hearde in his sleepe by vysion of A∣phrican{us}. If this be true, that the Soule of euerye worthy wighte, at the time of death doth easely mount into heauen, as being deliuered out of y^t prisō, & Gieues of the bodies: whom shall we thinke, had an easier passage to God, then Scipio? Wherefore to bee sorye at this his good hap, I feare, were rather the part of an enuious, then of a frendlye person. On the other side, if I were doubtful of this, that the Soule dyed together with the

body, & that there remayned no feeling either of weale or woe: then trulye, as in Death ther is no goodnes, so neyther is there any euilnes. For when Sense & feelinge is once gone, hee is become as though he had neuer bene borne: and yet that hee was borne, bothe wee doe re∣ioyce, and all this Cittye, (as longe as it standeth) shalbe glad. Wherfore as (I said before) hee is verye well, and in better case then I am: whō reason wold y^t as I came before him into this world, so I should haue gone before him out of this life. But yet I take such an inward ioye at the remembrance of our Friend∣shippe, that mee thinckes I lyued bles∣sedlye, * 1.14 because I lyued with Scipio: w^t whō I had a ioynt care of matters both publique & priuate: w^t whō both in peace & warre I toke like part: & (y^t wherin y^e whole summe of Frēdshippe consisteth) there was betwene vs a most persect a∣greement of willes, desires, & opinions.

Therfore this fame of wisdome (whi∣the Fannius ere while rehearsed, dothe not so much delight me (specially being false) as that I hope, the memorie of our

Frēdship shalbe euerlasting, & the grea∣ter hartioye is it to me, because in so ma∣ny hūndred yeres passed, ther cā be rec∣kened scarcely iii or iiii. couples of Frē∣des: * 1.15 in which sorte I see there is hope y^t the Frēdship of Scipio & Laelius shalbe renowmed to posterity.

FAN.

It cānot chose (Laelius) but be e∣uen so as you say. But because you haue made mētion of Frēdship, & wee be also at good leysure, you shal do me a singu∣ler pleasure, & likewise I hope to Scaeuo¦la if (accordingly as you are wōt of other matters whē they be demaūded of you) you woulde nowe make some prety dis∣course of Frēdship, what you think of it, what maner of thing you accoūt it, and what good lessons you geue therupon.

SCAEV.

Certeinly y^t hādling of this matter shal singulerly delite me: & euen as I was aboute to breake my minde to you touchinge the same, Fannius pre∣uented me. Wherfore sir, you shal exce∣dingly gratifie vs both.

LAE

Certes I would not sticke to do it, if I thoughte my selfe wel able. For the matter is both excellent, and we bee

(as Fānius saide) at verye good leasure. But who am I? or what ability is ther¦in me? This is the fashion of learned mē & that among the Grekes, to haue a mat¦ter propounded vnto thē, to reason vpō, although vpon the sodain. It is a great piece of worcke, & hath nede of no small exercise.

Wherefore I thincke it beste for you to * 1.16 seeke those pointes which may be dispu∣ted of Frendship, at their handes which professe these things. I can no more but exhort you to preferre Frendship before al worldly matters. For nothing is so a∣greable to nature, nothing so fitte either for prosperity or aduersitye.

But first and formost this do I think, that Frendshippe cannot be but in good men. Neither do I searche this matter to the quicke, as they which ryp vp this geare somwhat more preciselye: and al∣thoughe perchaunce truly, yet little to common profite. For they denye that a∣nye * 1.17 mā is good, sauing him that is wise. Admit it be so. But they expound wyse∣dome to be such a thing, as neuer yet any earthly man attaigned.

But wee muste hope for those thynges

whiche bee in vre and common practise: not for those thinges, which be feigned or wished for. I wil neuer saye that C. Fabritius, M. Curius. & T. Corūcanus, whō our elders deemed wisemen, were wise, after these mens rule. Wherefore let them kepe to themselues their name of wisdome, beinge both liable to muche enuy and also vnaccoumpted of, and let them graunt that these were good men. But they will neuer so do: for they will denye that that can be graunted to anie, sauing to him that is wise. Let vs ther∣fore goe euen bluntly to worcke, and (as y^e Prouerbe is) in termes, as plain as a packe staffe. They that so behaue them∣selues, and so lyue, that their faythful∣nesse, honesty, vpright dealinge and libe∣ralitie is allowed, and in whom is ney∣ther any couetousnes, lust, or rash bold∣nesse, who be also men of great constan∣cie (as were these whom I erewhile na∣med) those (as they were accoumpted * 1.18 good men) so lette vs thincke them well worthy to be called: who do follow na∣ture the best Guyde of wel lyuing, so far forth as mannes power can reache. For

thus much me thinkes I espye, that we are so borne, to then de there shoulde bee a certaine felowshippe amonge vs all: & the nearer that euerye one commeth to other, the greater should the felowship * 1.19 be. Therfore are our own Countrimen better beloued of vs then straungers, & our kinsfolke dearer to vs, then frenne∣folke. For, towardes these, hath Nature herselfe bred a frendlinesse: but in this there is not such durable surenesse. For herein doth Frendshippe excel kinred, in that, kinred may be without goodwill: but Frendshippe in no wise can lacke it. For take awaye Goodwill, and the na∣me of Frendshippe is cleane gone: but the name of kinred may still remayne.

Now, of what vertue and strengthe, Frendshippe is, may hereby namely be vnderstode: that of the infinite societies of mankinde whiche Nature herselfe hath knitte together, the whole matter is so abridged and brought into such na∣rowe rowme, that al perfect Frendship is eyther betwene twain, or els betwene a verye fewe. For Frendshippe is no∣thinge elles but a perfecte agreemente

with goodwil and hearty loue in al mat∣ters, both diuine and humaine. Then * 1.20 the whiche I knowe not whether anye better Gift (Wisedome onely excepte) were geeuen by God vnto men. Some * 1.21 rather preferre Rythesse: some health: others Honour: many also vaine pleasu∣res. But certes this laste is for Bea¦stes: the other afore are transitorye and vncertayne, consistinge not so muche in our owne apoyntmentes, as in the fic∣klenesse of Fortune.

But they whiche repose the chiefeste goodnesse in Vertue, doe therein excel∣lently wel: and yet this same Vertue is * 1.22 it, whiche engendreth and vpholdeth Freendshippe: neyther can Freende∣shippe in anye wise bee withoute Ver∣tue.

Now let vs iudge Vertue by the or∣der of our lyfe and talke. And let vs not measure it (as some vnlearned doe) by the statelynesse of Woordes: and let vs accoumpte them Goodmen, who are so reputed, that is to witte, the Pau∣les, the Catoes, the Caians, the Scipions, and the Pniloes.

These helde themselues contented with this common kinde of lyfe. And let vs passe theym ouer, whiche are not anye where at all to bee founde. Amonge suche manner of persons, Frendshyppe hath so greate Commodities, as I am scarce able to expresse. Firste and fore∣moste, * 1.23 what man can haue anye Ioye to lyue in this lyfe (as Ennius sayth) whi∣che delighteth not in the mutual Frend¦shippe and goodwill, of some especiall Freende? What pleasaunter thynge can there bee, then to haue one, with whom thou darest as boldelye talke, & breake thy minde, as with thine owne selfe? What greate Ioye shoulde a man haue in his Prosperitie: if hee had not some to reioyce and take parte of the same with him, aswel as himselfe?

And as touching Aduersitie, it were a verye harde matter to beare it, wyth∣out some, that would take the same, euen more greuouslye then thou thy selfe.

To conclude, all other thinges whyche are desired, do (in a maner) al seueral∣lye serue to seueral purposes: as Riches

for vse: wealth for worshippe: Honour, for prayse: Pleasure for delight: Health to want griefe and to execute the offices of the bodye. Frendshippe compriseth many thinges moe. Which way soeuer thou tournest thee, it is at hande: in no place is it excluded: it is neuer oute of season, neuer troublesome.

Therfore we doe vse neyther water, fi∣er nor ayer (as they saye) in mo places, then wee do frendshippe. Neither do I * 1.24 speake of the vulgare or meane sorte of Frendshippe (whiche notwithstandinge both delighteth & profiteth) but of true and perfect Frendshippe, such as theirs was, who are very fewe and sone recke∣ned. For Frendshippe maketh prosperi∣tie bothe more glittringe and glorious: and aduersitie (by partinge & cōmunica∣ting of grieues) it maketh lighter, and easier. And whereas Frendshippe con∣teyneth in it very many and great com∣modities, this (doubtlesse) passeth al the rest, in that, it comforteth vs aforehande with a good hope of y^t whiche is to come, and suffreth neither the heart to quayle nor the courage to be abated, For hee y^t

eyeth and looketh vppon his faythfull Frend, doth (as it were) behold a certen * 1.25 pattern of his owne selfe. And therefore although absent, yet are they present: & beinge needye, haue store ynoughe, and beinge weake, are strong: and (whiche is a straunge matter to bee tolde) beinge dead are aliue. So great is the honour, remembrance, and zeale, that is bredde in freendes one towards an other, By reason whereof, the death of the one see∣meth blessed, & the lyfe of the other cō∣mendable.

Now, if you take out of the world the knot of Frendship, certes, neyther shall any house be able to stand, ne City to en∣dure, no, nor yet any tillage to continue. And if hereby it cannot throughly be cō∣ceiued, howe great the force of Freend∣shippe and concord is: yet at least by dis∣cord and diffention, it may well be per∣ceiued. What house is there so well * 1.26 staid, what City so strong, that through hatred, and discorde, may not be vtterly subuerted? Whereby, what goodnesse resseth in Frendshippe, may easelye bee iudged.

Men saye that a certayne Learned * 1.27 man of Agrigent, displayed in Greeke Verses, that all thinges whiche are in this World, and haue mouinge, are knit together by Frendshippe, & that by dis∣corde, they are disseuered. And this doe all men both vnderstande, and by proofe do finde to hee very true. Therfore if at any time there hath bene kindnes shew∣ed by one frend toward another, eyther in aduenturinge, or in participatinge of perils, what is hee that wil not highlye commend the same? What a shout was there of late made by al the whole Sta∣ge, at the newe Enter lude made by my host and frend M. Pacuuius? when as the kinge not knowinge whether of the twayne was Orestes: Pylades affirmed * 1.28 himselfe to be Orestes because he would haue suffred death for him: Againe, O∣restes (as the truthe was) stiffelye ad∣uouched that hee and not the other was Orestes. The standers by clapped their handes together for ioye thereat. And this being done in a feigned tale, what thincke wee woulde they haue done in a

true matter? Here did Nature herselfe vtter her force, when as men adiudged that thing to bee well done in an other, which they themselues could not doe-Hytherto as mee thinckes I haue euen throughlye spoken my full mynde and opinion of Freendeshippe. If there bee anye more to bee saide (as I thincke there is a greate deale) seeke it (if ye thinke it good) at their handes whiche dispute these kinde of matters.

FANNI.

But wee had rather heare it of you. Albe it I haue oftenti∣times soughte the same at their handes, and haue hearde theym also, and that not vnwyllingelye. But wee looke for an other maner of Veine and Style at your handes.

SCAEVOL.

You woulde much more haue sayd so, Fannius, if you had bene present with vs in Scipio his Gar∣deine, at what tyme there was reaso∣ninge of the Common wealthe, what a Patrone of Iustice hee was agaynste a certain curious Oration that Philus made.

FANN.

That surelye was an easye

matter, for a iust man to defend Iustice. SCAE. And what say you of Freende∣shippe? Shall it not bee alike easye for him to doe therein semblablye, who for faithfully, constantlye, and iustlye kee∣pinge the same, hath gotten greate re∣nowme?

LAEL.

Thys (truly) is euen to force mee to speake. For what skilleth it, by what way you do force me? This am I sure of, that ye force mee. For to wyth∣stand the earnest requestes of a mannes Sonnes in Law, and namely in a good matter, partly it is an hard case, & part∣lye it standeth not with reason.

Manye times therefore as I debate w^t my selfe of Frendshippe, I am wonte to thincke this one thinge therein worthye of speciall consideration: whether men ought to seeke for Frendship onely for a stay to their weakenesse and neede, that in doing and taking good turnes, a mā * 1.29 might receiue that of an other, which he coulde not compasse or attaigne vnto by himselfe, and enter chaungeably requite the same: or whether this were (in deede) one propertie belonging to Frendship,

but yet that there was an other cause more noble more cōmēdable, & more pro∣cedīg frō nature itselfe. For loue (wher * 1.30 of frendlye loue or Frendship is named) is y^e chiefest cause that fastneth goodwil together. For profite is oftentimes got∣ten euen at their handes, who vnder the coūterfeit shew of Frendship are sought vnto, & as y^e time serueth, are wayted vpō at an inche. But in Frendshippe there is no glauering, no dissemblinge: what soe∣uer is in it, the same is true and volun∣tarye.

Wherfore me thinkes Frendship had * 1.31 his first beginning rather of nature thē of imbecillitye: & of castinge ones phan∣sie towards another, with a certaine fee∣ling of Loue, rather then by considering how much profit might eniue therupon. The which surely, what maner of thing it is, maye euen in certeine Beastes bee perceiued: which for a certen time so tē∣derlye loue their young ones, and bee a∣gain so loued of them, that their feeling therof easely appeareth: which thing in man is much more euident. First by y^t deare loue that is betweene Children, &

Parentes which cannot without dete∣stable bill anye bee disseuered.

Secondarilye, when as there is a like feelinge of Loue againe: as when wee haue found one with whose Manners and Nature wee well agree: (because to oure owne thinckinge) wee espye in him (as it were) a certeine Lighte of Honestie and vertue. For nothinge is * 1.32 more louelye and amiable then Vertue, nothinge that more allureth men to loue one another: Insomuche that for Vertue and honestie we doe after a sort, loue euen them whom wee neuer saw. Who is hee, that doeth not with a cer∣ten singuler Loue, and Goodwyll to∣wardes the parties, vse the remem∣braūce of C. Fabritius, and M. Curius, whom notwithstanding hee neuer saw? Who againe dothe not hate Tarquini∣us the proude, Sp. Cassius, and Sp. Me∣lius? Wee stroue for the Empire, in Italye with two Capitaines, Pyrrhus, and Hannibal: and yet from the one of * 1.33 them, because of his honest name wee did not altogether estraunge oure har∣tes: The other for his crueltie, this Ci∣tie

of oures will for euer deteste.

Nowe, if the force of Honestye bee so greate, that wee loue the same, yea, in those, whom wee neuer sawe, and (whi∣che is more) euen in oure Enemies: what meruayle is it, if mennes hartes bee mooued, when they seeme to per∣ceiue and see Vertue, and goodnesse in them, with whom they maye bee ioy∣ned in acquaintaunce and cōuersation. Albeit Loue is confirmed by benefites receiued, by Goodwyll approued, and * 1.34 by acquaintaunce adioyned: All whi∣che thinges beinge layed together to that firste motion of mannes mynde and Loue, there is enkindled a wonderfull greatenesse of Goodwyll, and Freend∣lynesse. Whiche if anye doe thincke to proceede and come of Imbecillitye, as thoughe it shoulde bee but to serue euerye mannestourne, thereby to gette the thynge whyche hee desireth: suche men surelye doe make a verye base and (as a man shoulde saye) no Gentleman-like * 1.35 race vnto Freendeshyppe, if they woulde haue it to descende and haue

his beginning from needines and want. Which thing if it were so: then, as euery man felt himselfe of smallest abilitie, so should he bee most fittest for Frendship: which thing is farre otherwise. For as euery man trusteth moste to himselfe: & as euerye man is with vertue and wise∣dome so singulerlye furnished, that hee standeth not in neede of anye other, and thincketh that al which is his, resteth in himselfe: so in seeking and mainteining Frendship doth he especially surmount. For what? Had Aphricanus any neede of me? Neuer a whit surely. And I nei∣ther of him. But I throughe a certeine * 1.36 admiration that I had of his vertue lo∣ued him: and againe, he, for some opini∣on perchaunce, that hee conceiued of my maners phansied mee: and our dayly cō¦uersation together, encreased our good∣willes. But although many and greate commodities ensued thereof, yet did not the causes of our loue one to the other is∣sue from any hope of suche thinges. For as wee bee bountifull and liberal, not of purpose to get thanckes therefore (for wee do not lay out our benefites to vsu∣rye,

but are by nature enclineable to ly∣beralitie) * 1.37 so likewise do we thincke that Freendship is to be desired of men, not ledde thereto with hope of rewarde, but because all the fruicte thereof resteth in very loue itselfe. * 1.38

Wee farre disagree in opinion from them whiche after the manner of bruite Beastes doe referre al thinges to Plea∣sure & Sensualitie. And no meruayle. For why? They that haue abased & caste al their cogitations vpon a thing so vile and contemptible, cannot haue anye re∣garde to any high, noble, and heauenly thinge. Wherefore let vs set aside suche maner of persons from this talke: and let vs vnderstand y^t the feelinge of Loue and perfecte goodwill is engendred by Nature, with hauinge some significatiō or proofe of honestye. Whiche honestye they that desire and seeke after, applye themselues, and draw neerer thereunto: that they may enioy both the companye, and also the maners of him, whom they haue begon to loue: and that they may be Mates, and alike in Loue, readier to doe a good turne, then to seeke for anye.

And let this bee an honest kinde of strife betweene them.

Thus shal verye great commodities bee taken of Freendship, and the firste beginninge thereof, beinge of Nature and not of Imbecillitie) shall bee bothe waightier and truer. For if Profite shoulde fasten and knitt Freendshyppe, * 1.39 then the same beinge chaunged, shoulde dissolue and lewse it agayne. But bee∣cause Nature cannot be chaunged, ther∣fore true Freendshyppes are euerlast∣inge. Thus you see the beeginninge of Freendshyppe: excepte peraduenture there bee some thinge elles that you would demaunde.

SCAE.

Naye Laelius, I praye you proceede in your matter: for, as for him heere that is my younger, I dare vpon myne owne warrant aunswere.

FAN.

In deede you say wel: wher∣fore let vs heare further.

LAELIVS.

GEeue eare then Gentlemen to those things, whiche manye times and

often haue beene reasoned betweene mee and Scipio, concerninge Freende∣shyppe: Howbeit his sayinge was, that nothing was harder, then for Freende∣shyppe to continue vnto the laste houre of Death. For hee woulde saye, that it oftentimes happened, eyther that one and the selfe same thinge shoulde not be * 1.40 expediente for bothe parties: or elles that they woulde not alwayes bee of one mynde in matters of the common wealthe. Hee woulde also saye, that mennes maners did often chaunge, som∣times by the worlde goinge awrye, som∣tymes by growinge forwarde in age.

And of these thinges hee woulde bringe an Example by a comparison made of Boyes age, because the hoattest loue that Children had, was oftentimes de∣termined * 1.41 and ended, at the age when theire voyces c••aunge: And albeit they continued it till the age of their A∣dolescencye: yet hee sayde, that their Freendshyppe was oftentimes broken of, eyther throughe some contention, or by reason of Ryotte, or some other

profite because both of thē could not ob∣teyn one selfe thinge. Insomuch that if anye of them, by longer time continued in Frendshippe, yet that they often ti∣mes iarred, if they happened to sue for Preferrement and Dignitye. And fur∣ther hee sayde, that there was no grea∣ter * 1.42 plague in Freendshyppe, then in the moste sorte of men, Couetousnes of monye: and in the beste sort, striuing for aduauncement and glorye. Whereup∣on manye tymes greate enemitye hath happened betwene ryght deare frends. Also hee recoumpted, that greate vari∣aunces, and the same many times vpon good causes, did arise, whē as any thing was required of frendes, that was not honest: as eyther that they should be mi∣nisters of Luste to others, or helpers to thē in doing of wronge. Whiche thinge they that refused to do, although in so do iuge they did but righte honestlye, yet should they be reproued as forsakers of the law of Friendshippe at their hands whose requestes they would not accom∣plishe. And that they whiche had the face to request any thing whatsoeuer, at

their frendes handes, did by suche their demaunde professe, that they for theire Freendes sake woulde do all thinges. And that through their inueterate suuf∣finge one at an other, not onely their fa∣miliarities was wont to be extinguished but also greate and endlesse hatred to growe betweene them.

These so many thinges (sayde hee) o∣uerthwarted & hanged (as who shoulde say) by destenie ouer Freendshippe: in so much that to escape all these, seemed to him (as he saide) not onelye a parte of Wisdome, but also of very Happinesse.

Wherfore if it please you, let vs first * 1.43 see, howe farre Loue ought to stretche in Freendshippe. As if Coriolanus had frends, whether they ought to haue ioyned sides and borne weapon with the * 1.44 same Coriolanus against their country? Whether Becillinus his freendes ought to haue holpen him, when hee aspired to Soueraigntie? whether Sp. Melius his welwillers ought to haue taken part w^t him or no? Wee sawe that Tiberius Gracchus when hee disquieted the Com¦mon wealth, was cleane forsaken of Q.

Tubero, & other frendes y^t were his cō¦paigniōs. But Caius Blosi{us} y^e Cumane, (a Guest of your family Scaeuola) when * 1.45 hee came and made sute to me (sitting in counsayle with Lenas and Rutilius the Consuls) alledged this as a cause why I shoulde pardon his trespasse: because (for sooth) he made such special accoūpte of Tiberius Gracchus, y^t if hee had but said the word, & cōmaunded any thing, y^t same be thought himselfe bounde in du∣tie to doe. Sayye so (quoth I?) what & if hee had bid thee to set the Capitol on fier, wouldst thou do it? Hee would ne∣uer * 1.46 (said he) haue willed me to do any su¦ch thinge: but if hee had, truly I woulde * 1.47 haue done it. You see what a villanous saying this was. And in deede so he did: or rather more then he saide: for hee not only folowed the heady rashenes of Ti∣berius Gracchus, but also was a Ring∣leader: and shewed himselfe not onelye a compagnion of his outrage, but also a Capitain. Therfore in this mad moode being afrayde of a farther examination, hee fledde into Asia, and gotte him to oure Enemies, and in the ende for his

trayterous attemptes against our City, receiued a greuous and well deserued * 1.48 punishmente. No excuse therfore will serue for an offence, if a man offende for his freendes sake. For sithens the opi∣nion of Vertue is the breeder of Frend∣shippe, it is harde for Freendshippe to remayn, if a man swerue from Vertue. Nowe if wee doe agree that it is honest and reasonable, eyther to graunt to our * 1.49 Freendes, what soeuer they wil haue, or to obteyue of oure Freendes, what so euer wee desire, therein (trulye) we bee of a righte tryed wisedome, if there bee no fault cōmitted in our dealings. But we speake of those frēdes, which be dayly in our sights, whō we see or of whom we haue heard talke, or such as in common dealings of life are throughly knowen. Out of the nūber of such, must wee cull out examples, and namely of them, whi∣che approached neerest vnto wisdome. We certeinly know that Paulus Aemi∣lius was very familier with C. Lucini{us}, (as wee haue heard our forefathers re∣porte) and that they were twise Cōsuls together, & felowes in y^e office of Cēsor∣shippe.

We finde also in Histories that at that time together with theym, M. Curius & T. Coruncanus were very great frēds. Therfore we cānot so much as one su∣specte that anye of these did earnestlye requeste anye thinge of his frende, that was cōtrary to their faith, against their oth, or preiudicial to the cōmon wealth. For to what purpose should it be, to say that any suche thinges were in suche men as they were? If they had neuer so earnestly requested any such thing, I knowe they shoulde not haue obteyned their Sute, sithens they were men most vertuous. But let it be alike hey∣nous to requeste our freend an vnreaso∣nable * 1.50 sute, & to graunt the same beinge asked. But yet Caius Carbo fauoured Tiberius Gracchus. and so did C. Cato, beinge at that time no backefreende to Caius his brother, but is now his moste heauye enemie.

LET this therfore be the first decreed * 1.51 Law in Frendshippe, that wee ney∣ther request thinges vnhoneste: neither beinge requested, do anye. For it is a shameful excuse and not to be dispenced

withall, for a man, in any other faults, but namely in offences against the Com¦mon wealth, to confesse that be did it for his Freendes sake. For wee are pla∣ced (O Fannius and Scaeuola) in that rowme and callinge, that it behoueth vs longe afore to foresee the chaunces, y^t may happen to the common wealth.

For the custome that our forefathers v∣sed, is now somewhat altered and step∣ped * 1.52 aside out of his olde course.

Tiberius Gracchus wence aboute to v∣surpe the kingdome: yea, he ruled as a King in deede for certaine monethes.

Hath euer the people of Rome heard or seene the like? His example also after his death did his freendes and kinsfolke folowe. What partes they played a∣gainst P. Scipio Nasica, I am not hable withoute teares to declare. And as for Carbo (of whom I spake erewhile) wee did suffer and heare with him, because of the late punishment of Tiberius Grac∣chus.

But what my minde geeueth mee, will fall out in C. Gracchus Tribune∣shippe, I am not now disposed to vtter.

for thence y^e matter by litle & litle stylye * 1.53 creepeth forwarde, whiche fully tending to a further mischiefe (when it once bee∣ginneth) wil mainlye runne beadlonge. You see already aforehande in the rolle of Attaintes, what dishonour hath enfu∣ed, first by the * Law called Gabinia, and within two yeres after by the law Cas∣sia. Me thinckes I already see the Cō∣mo••a••••ie of Rome deuided from y^e Se∣nate, and the waightie affayres thereof to be ordered after the willes of the cōmon multitude. For moe will learne howe to doe these thinges, then home to withstand them. But to what end do I speake this? Verelye because no man goeth about any suche attemptes with∣out mo partahers. * Therefore muste a Couent be geuen to y^t honest sort, that if by any chaunce they light vnawares in∣to such Frendeshippes, they should not thincke theymselues so tyed thereunto, * 1.54 but that they may lawfully geeue their frends the slip, namely when they prac∣tise any great matter, to the hurt of the cōmon wealth. And vnto the euil dispo∣sed persōs, must a punishmēt be deuised: & no lesse for thē y^t partake w^t others, thē

for those y^t bee the verye Ringleaders, & Capitaines of mischiefe themselues.

What Noble man was there in all Greece more renowmed thē Themisto∣cles? Who was of greater power then * 1.55 he? who bring Generall in the warres againste the Persians, deliuered Greece from Bondage: and being afterwarde through enuy banished, could not digest and suffer that Iniurye of his vnkinde Country, whiche his parte was to haue suffered. He playd y^t like part as Corio∣lan{us} did xx. yeres before, with vs. There was not one māfoūd y^t would aid thē a∣gainst * 1.56 their coūtry: & therfore both of thē killed thēselues. Wherefore such cōspi∣racy of naughty persōs is not only not to be cloked w^t any pretēce of Frēdship, but is rather w^t al extremitie to be punished: y^t no mā may think it lawful to cōsent to his frēd y^t warreth against his Coūtry: which thing (as y^t world now beginneth to goe) I know not whether it will one day come to passe or no. Verely I haue no lesse care, in what state the Common * 1.57 wealthe shalbe after my deathe: then I haue of the case it standeth in at this pre∣sent day.

LET this therfore bee enacted as y^e * 1.58 firste law of Frendship, that wee re∣quest at our frendes handes, those thin∣ges that be honest: and that wee doe for our freendes sakes, al thinges that bee reasonnable: and that wee do not pinch curtesye in stayinge till wee bee reques∣sted, but let vs euer haue an earnest good will to pleasure them: let all delayes be set aparte: and let vs bee glad in deede, freelye to geeue our freende good coun∣sell. * 1.59 Let the Aucthoritie of Freendes (geuing soūd counsel) beare great sway and force in Frendship, and let the same be vsed to warne one another, not onely plainly, but (if occasion so serue) sharp∣lye: and let suche aucthoritie so geeuen be throughly obeyed. As for those good felowes, whom (as I heare say) were ac∣coūted ioly wisemē in Greece, I thinke they delited in some vncouth wonders. * 1.60 But there is nothing wherupō they doe not deskant w^t their quiddities: as part∣lye that wee should eschew Frendshippe with too manye, least one man shoulde be driuen to be careful formanye: & that euerye man shoulde haue fully ynoughe

to doe, to care for his owne matters: y^t it is a great trouble to be ouermuch en∣cōbred with other mens dealings: & that it is a iolye matter to haue y^t Reynes of Frendship at wil, eyther to plucke s••reit when a man is disposed, or to let goe at large, at his own pleasure. And that the principallest point of happy life is Qui∣etnesse: which the mynde cannot enioye, if one should beare al y^t burden and as it were) trauaile with childe for many.

Another sort (they say) there be, whi∣che holde a more beastlye opinion then these aboue (as I brieflye noted a little before) affirming that Frendship ought to bee desired for a stay and a helpe to be had thereby, not for any goodwil or har∣tie loue. Therefore by this reckening, as euerye one hath of himselfe smallest staye & abilitye, so should he moste seeke for Frendeshippe. And by this meanes it happeneth that seelye women seeke the aide of Frendship more then men: and the needye more then the wealthye: and the miserablie distressed, more then they that be accoumpted fortunate.

Oh passinge braue wisedome. For they

seme to take the Sūne out of the world, whiche would take Freendshippe, from among vs: then the which, we haue no∣thinge * 1.61 eyther better or pleasaunter by the immortall Gods geuen vnto vs.

For what maner of Quietnes is this? forsooth, to see to: very pleasaunt: but in deede, in many respectes to be reiected. For it standeth not with reason, eyther not to take in hande, or beinge taken in hande, to leaue of, any honest cause or * 1.62 deede, because thou wouldest not bee troubled. But if wee refuse care, wee must then refuse Vertue, which must of necessitye with some care despise and hate those things that be contrary to it: as for example: Goodnes must hate E∣uilnesse: Temperaunce, Ryotte: For∣titude, Cowardise. Therefore a man maye see the iust, greatlye greeued at matters vniuste, the stout at the weake: the modest liuers w^t pranckes vngraci∣ous. This therefore is the propertie of * 1.63 a well stayed mynde, to reioyce at good things, & to be sory for the contrary.

Wherfore if griefe of mynde be inci∣dēt to a Wisemā (as in very deede it is)

excepte wee thincke that humanitie bee cleane dislodged out of his minde, what cause is there, why wee should vtterlye take away Frendshippe from the life of man, because we would take no paines, or troubles about it? For take awaye y^e * 1.64 motions of the minde, and tell me what difference there is (I will not saye) bee∣tweene a Beast and a man, but euen be∣tweene a man and a Stone, or a Log, or any other such like thing?

Neyther are they to be geeuen eare vn∣to, whiche holde opinion that Vertue is hard, & as it were pronlike: which sure∣lye is in many things els, but especially in Frendship, tender, & tractable: in so much y^t at y^e weale of his frend, it sprea∣deth itselfe abroade, and at his mishaps shrinketh in again. Wherfore this same trouble which must oftentimes be aby∣den for our frends, is not of such force, y^t it should quight take away Frendshippe frō amonge men: no more then Vertue ought to be reiected, because it bringeth sundrye cares and greuaunces. Seeing therefore y^t Vertue causeth Freendship (as I afore haue declared) if any token or

significatiō of vertue appeareth, wherū∣to a mind sēvlably disposed, may apply & ioyne itselfe: where this thing hapneth, ther (say I) nedes must Frēdship grow.

For what is so absurd, as to bee dely∣ted with manye vayne things, as Honor. Glorye, Houses, Apparell, brauerye and deckinge of the bodye: and not to be ex∣ceedinglye * 1.65 delighted with a Mynde en∣dued with Vertue, suche a one as eyther can loue, or (as I may saye) afoord loue for loue againe? For there is nothinge more delectable, then is the requitall of good will: nothing more pleasaunt then is the mutual entrecourse of Freendli∣nesse and curtesies. And if we adde this vnto it (whiche maye verye will bée ad∣ded) * 1.66 that there is nothinge whiche so greatly allureth & draweth anye thinge vnto it, as the likenesse of Conditions doth vnto Freendshippe: then surelye must this bee needes graunted true, that * 1.67 goodmē do loue them which he good, & haunt together in company as mē neere ly ioyned together by kinred & nature.

For nothing is more desirous, nothīg is more eager & rauenous of his lyke, then * 1.68

Nature.

Wherfore this in my iudgement is a * 1.69 plaine case (Fannius and Scaeuola, that it cannot choose, but there must needes be amonge good men, one towardes an other, a freendly and hartie well mea∣ninge: whiche is the Wellspringe of Freendshippe, appointed by Nature.

But this same goodnesse apperteyneth * 1.70 also to the common sort. For Vertue is not churlish, not exempted, not statelye, or proude: for her custome is to preserue all men in generall, and to doe the best for them that shee can: whiche thynge (doubtlesse) shee woulde not doe, if shee disoayned or thought skorne of the loue of the vulgar sort.

Furthermore, me thinckes that they whiche for profite sake feigne Freende∣shippe, do take awaye the louelyest knot * 1.71 that is in Freendshippe. For the profit gayned by a freende doeth not so muche delice, as doth the very loue of a freend. And then is that which commeth from a mans freende, pleasaunt, if it proceede of an hartie loue, and good will. And so farre of is it, that Freendshippe shoulde

bee desired for needinesse, that they whi∣ch beinge endued with wealth & Riches and speciallye with Vertue (wherein is most ayd) & not standing in neede of any other, are men most liberal & boūtifull.

And I know not, whether it be expe∣dient and meete that frendes should ne∣uer * 1.72 want any thing at all. For wherein should my hartie goodwill haue appea∣red, if Scipio had neuer stoode in neede, neyther at home in time of peace, nor a∣broade in time of warres, of my fauour, * 1.73 coūsel, & assistaūce? Therfore Frendship prowles not after profit, but profit ensu∣eth Frendship.

And therefore men y^t slow in wealthe are not to be hearde, if at any time they dispute of Frendship, wherof they haue neither by Practise, neyther by know∣ledge, anye vnderstandinge. For what * 1.74 man is hee (I pray you in good sadnesse) y^t would desire to wallowe in all wealth and liue in all abundaunce of worldlye Rychesse, and neyther hee to loue any body, nor any to loue him? For this were a life, such as Tirantes lyue: to witte, * 1.75 wherin there can be no fidelity, no harty

loue, no trust of assured goodwil: al thin∣ges euermore suspected & ful of care: & no place at al for Frendship. For who cā * 1.76 either loue him, whō hee feareth: or him of whō he thīketh himselfe to be feared: Notw^tstanding such persons be honored & crowched vnto, by a coūterfeit shew of Frēdship, only for a time. But if it hap∣pen (as oftētimes it doth) y^t they haue a downfal, thē is it wel perceiued, how ba∣re & naked of frendes they were. Which * 1.77 thing y^e report goeth y^t Tarquini{us} said, y^t at suche time as hee was banished, hee throughly vnderstood what faithful frē∣des he had, & who were vnfaithful, whē as he was not able to require or gratify nether of thē. Howbeit I do meruaile, if in y^e his proude & insolent life, hee could haue any frend at al. And as this mans maners, whō I last mētioned could not procure any true frēds: so y^t great welth of mē set in high power & authoritye do quite shut out al faithful Frēdship. For * 1.78 Fortune is not onely blinde, but for the most parte also, shee maketh thē starke * 1.79 blinde, whom shee fauoureth.

And therfore commonly they are puffed

vp with disdaynfulnesse and selfe will: and there is nothinge so wearisome as a wealthye man, beeing foolishe.

And this may we see, y^t some which afore time were of manners gentle & nothing squeimish, if they bee reysed to rule, au∣thoritye and wealth, are cleane chaun∣ged: and vtterlie dispisinge their olde Frendshippes, cleane vnto new.

But what foolisher thinge is there, then for a man (to thende he maye beare greate Porte and Swaye throughe hys wealth, rychesse, and reuenues) to get * 1.80 other things that are sought for, as mo∣nye, Horses, Seruauntes, Apparayle, Worshippe and costlye Plate: and not to gette freendes being the best and (as I may say) the goodlyest furniture that can bee in this lyfe? For other thinges when they are gotten, they know not for whō they haue gotten thē, nor for whose vse and behoofe they labour. For eue∣rye whit of all these, is his, y^t can winne it with maine strengthe: but the pos∣session of Freendshippe once gotten, re∣mayneth and continueth vnto euerye man stedfast and assured: and although

these other thinges should continue, whiche are but as it were the Giftes of Fortune, yet a clownish life, deuoide of freendes cannot be pleasaunte. But of these matters hytherto.

Now must we set down the Bounds that are in Frendshippe, & (as it were) * 1.81 the Lymites, or Buttinges of Loue: whereof I doe see three opinions: of the which, I do allow neuer a one.

One is, that wee shoulde in the very same sort be affected towardes our frēd, as wee be towardes our selues. * 1.82

An other is, that oure goodwyll to∣wards our frendes, be likewise equally * 1.83 correspondēt to their good wil towards vs.

The thirde, that so much as euerye man setteth by himselfe, so much hee * 1.84 should be set by, of his frendes.

To none at al of these three opinions do I agree. For the firste is not true: that as euery man is towardes himselfe, so also shoulde hee bee affected towardes his freende. For how many thinges do wee for oure Freendes sake, which wee woulde neuer doe for our owne cause?

As to crouche & sue in oure freendes be∣halfe to an vnworthye man: to bee sore bent against any body, and to rattle him vp very sharpely: which things to do in cases of oure owne, standeth not well w^t honestye: but in our frendes behalfe, are most honest & cōmendable. And manye things there be, wherein honest men do abridge themselues somewhat of theire owne gaines, and are well contented y^t it should so be, that their frendes rather then themselues might enioy them.

The second opinion is it, which defineth Frendeship w^t equal Curtesies, & wills: but truly this were too strict dealīg to cal Frendshippe to accoūt, & reckning, how many pleasures haue bene done, to thintēt so many may again be receiued. Me thinkes, that true Frendshippe is a greate dease richer and plētifuller, and doth not so strictly see to his recknings, that he graunt no more thē he receiued. For there is no such feare to bee taken, least there be any thinge lost, or leaste it * 1.85 should be spilt vpō the groūd, or least we heap vp too much measure in Frēdship.

The third Bound or End is worst of al: whiche is, that howe much euerye man setteth by himselfe, so much hee shoulde be set by of his frends. In some there is manye times eyther a quayled courage, or a comfortles hope of amending their estate. Therefore it is not a freendes parte, to be suche vnto him, as hee is to * 1.86 himselfe: but hee ought rather to study and deuise which way hee maye recom∣forte the appalied mynde of his freende, and to put him in good hope of a better amendement.

Wee must therfore prescribe an other kind of true Frendship: but first I wyl tel you, what thing it was y^t Scipio was wont most to find fault withal. He sayd that there coulde not bee deuised anye worde more directlye againste Freend∣shippe: * 1.87 then his was, which sayde that a man oughte so to loue, as thoughe hee should one day againe hate. And that hee could not bee perswaded to thincke that this was euer spoken (as it was sup¦posed) by Bias, who was accoumpted one of y^t vii. wise Sages: but rather y^t it

was the opinion of some lewde and am∣bitious person, or of one that would rule al thinges by his owne power and auc∣thoritie as he lust himselfe. For how can anie man be frend to him, whose enemie hee thincketh that hee shall one day bee?

Furthermore, nedes must he desire & wish, that his freende might very often offend, to the end hee may thereby haue (as it were) the moe occasions to finde fault with him. Againe, he must needes frette, sorow, and spighte at his frendes wel doinges and commodities.

Wherfore this note (whose so euer it is) is ynough to take Frendship quighte a∣waye. This Rule rather shoulde haue bene prescribed, y^t wee shoulde employe such diligence in the gettinge of freen∣des, that wee should not at any time be∣ginne to loue him, whom at anye time wee might after hate. Yea, besides, if we haue not had good happe in the choosing of our frendes: yet Scipio thought, that men should beare w^t that mischance, ra∣ther then to seeke occasion to quarell, & fall out.

These bounds therfore I thincke are

best to be vsed, that when the maners of freendes bee well qualefied and honest, there should bee among them, a commu∣nitie or participatiō of al their gooddes * 1.88 purposes and willes withoute anye exception. As if the case were so, that some dealinges of our freendes, beinge not verye honeste, were to bee holpen: which concerned either theire lyfe and death, or their fame and credite: wee * 1.89 must straine oure selues a little to steppe awrye, out of the waye, so y^t vtter shame and dishonestye ensue not therupon. For there is a stint, howe farre Frendshippe may be pardonable. Neither must we slightly neglect our fame. We must al∣so thincke, that the good wil of the peo∣ple is no smal furtheraunce to that chie∣uinge * 1.90 of any dealinges: which with gla¦ueringe & flatterye to get, is shameful & dishonest. Therfore Vertue hauing har∣ty loue folowing it, is not to be despised. But he, oftentimes (for now I returne to Scipio, whose whoole talke was of Frendshippe) complayned, that men were in al other thinges more diligent: as, that euery man could tel how many

Goates and Sheepe hee had, but that bee coulde not recken howe manye fren∣des hee had: and that in compassinge and stoaring himselfe with the one, he bestowed greate care: but in the choo∣singe of his frendes he was verye negli∣gente and rechlesse: neither that they had anye Tokens or Markes whereby to iudge what persons were fitteste for Freendshyppe.

Wee muste therefore choose such as bee Sure, Stedfaste, and Constante: of which sorte there is greate scarsity: and an harde matter is it to iudge of them without tryall.

But we must in Freendshyppe make tryall: for so Freendshyppe precedeth oure iudgement, and taketh away the power of Tryall.

It is therfore a Wisemans parte, so to staye the vehement earnestnesse of his good wyll, euen as bee woulde stay his * 1.91 race in runninge: to the intent we may so vse oure Frendshippes, as men vse to assaye their horses: makinge somewhat a tryall of the manners of our frendes.

Some manye times in a small paul∣tringe monye matter, are perceyued, * 1.92 howe discreditable and vnconstant they bee. Some againe, whom a small portion coulde not tempt, are in a great Summe knowen what they are. Now, if there be some men found, which dee∣me * 1.93 it a berye beastlye thinge to preferre money before Freendeshyppe: where shall we finde them that do not esteeme Honour, Authoritye, Rule, and worldly wealth, more then Freendshyppe? and that when these thinges bee sette on the one parte, and the Vertue of Frendshyp on the other, had not leyfer choose the firste, then this latter? For mannes na∣ture is frayle & weake to refuse Autho∣ritie, the which if they maye attaigne vnto, (although without hauing any re∣garde at all of Frendshippe) they thinke themselues to be excusable: because thei neglected and despised Frendshippe not without cause.

Therfore true Frendshippe is verye harde and rare to be found among them * 1.94 whych are placed in Honour, and beare rule in the Common weale.

For where shal a man finde one, y^e prefer∣reth and setteth more by the honoure of his freend, then he doth by his owne?

What? (to let these thinges passe) how greeuous and how painfull do ma∣nye thinke it, to be partakers of others * 1.95 calamities & miseries? wherunto there is none lightly found, that will willing∣lye entre. Albeit Ennius verye wel say∣eth: A sure Frend is tryed in Aduersi∣tye: Yet (notwithstandinge) these two things do conuince most men of Incon∣stancie and Lightnes: either if in Pros∣peritie * 1.96 they dispise their frendes: or if in Aduersitie they forsake them. He there∣fore whiche in both these cases sheweth himselfe a man discrete, constant, & sta∣ble in Frendship: him ought we to iudge one of the moste rarest sort of men, & al∣most as a God.

For the ground worke of that stablenes, & constancie, whiche we require & seke in Frendshippe, is Faythfulnes. For no∣thinge is stable, which is vnfaythful.

Furthermore it is behoueful for vs, to * 1.97 choose such a one to our frend, as is sim∣ple and playne, good to agree withall,

and such an one, as wil be mooued wyth the selfe same thinges that wee bee: all whiche thinges pertaine vnto faythful∣nesse. Neyther can a running heade, or * 1.98 wauering witte euer be faythfull. For why? hee that is not affected alike with the same thinges, that his frend is: ney∣ther is of the same minde with him, in * 1.99 matters by nature: can neither be faith∣full nor stedfast.

Hereunto must be added, that a freende must neither delight in accusing, nor be leeue any accusations, beinge broughte vnto him: which thinges do belonge to that Constancie, wherof I ere while en∣treated. And thus, that falleth out to bee true, which I spake of, at the begin∣ninge: that Freendship cannot be but a∣mong good men.

For it is the part of a goodman (whō also we may tearme a Wise man) to ob∣serue * 1.100 these two pointes in Frendshippe: First that there be nothing feigned nor * 1.101 coūterfeited. For it is more honesty, euē openly to hate one, then vnder a glosing * 1.102 coūtenance to hyde dissimulation: & not onely to shift awaye and cleare his frēde

of accusations, layde to his charge by any other, but also that hee himselfe be * 1.103 not suspicious, thinckinge alwayes that his frende doeth somewhat amisse.

There must also (besides this) bee a certaine pleasauntnes of talke and ma∣ners, * 1.104 whiche is (in deede) none of the worst Sawces in Freendeshippe. But lumpish sadnesse, and sullen sowernesse must in anye wise be abounded. * 1.105

Certes it hath in it a certayn grauitie, but Freendshippe ought to bee more at large, more at libertie, pleasaunter and to all curtesie and gentlenesse more dis∣posed.

And here in this place groweth a some∣what harde question, whether new frē∣des (being not vnworthy of Frendship) * 1.106 ought to bee preferred and more set by, then the old: as we vse to set more store by younge Horses, then wee doe by olde ones.

A doubt (doubtlesse) vnsemely for a mā to stand vpon. For there ought not to be saciety of frendship, as there is of other thinges. The oldest (like olde Wynes) ought to be pleasaūtest: & true is the old

common Prouerbe, that wee must eate manye Bushels of Salte together with * 1.107 those, with whom wee shall throughlye perfourme all the partes of Freende∣shyppe.

But newe Acquaintaunces, if there bee hope that they wyll (as younge to∣wardly shootes, and fructifying budds) * 1.108 bringe foorthe fruict, are not (surely) to bee refused: but yet notwithstāding old familiaritye muste still bee continued in his due place and estimation. For the force of Auncientnesse, and Custome, is exceedinge greate.

And as touchinge the Horse (wherof I spake erewhile) if there bee no cause of lette to the contrary: there is no man but had leyfer occupie him whom hee hath beene vsed vnto, then one that is straunge to hym, and vntamed.

And not onelye in this which is a liuing Creature doeth Custome beare greate Swaye, but in thynges also that are * 1.109 without Lyfe, is it of the lyke force: For euen in Hyllyshe and Wyelde Countryes, wherein wee haue of a

long dwelled, we haue a pleasure & de∣light, still to continue.

But this is a very high pointe in Frēd∣shyp, that the Superiour is equal with * 1.110 the Inferiour. For there be oftentymes certain preheminences: as that was of Scipio, in our fraternitie. Hee neuer ad∣uaunced nor preferred hymselfe before Philus, neuer before Rutilius, neuer be∣fore Mummius, neuer before his other freends of baser calling. But Q. Maxi∣mus his brother, a man (doubtles) right excellent, but yet nothing like him, bee∣cause * 1.111 he was his Elder, he reuerēced as his better: and was willing that all hys freendes should fare the better by him. Which thing is both to bee done & to be imitated of all men: that if they sur∣mount their freendes in any excellencye * 1.112 of Vertue, Witte, and Fortune, they should imparte the same to theyr freen∣des, and communicate it ioyntlye with their Familiers: as, if they bee borne of baser parētage, if they haue kinredde of smaller power and abilitie, eyther in mind or substaūce, thei ought to enlarge & encrease their wealth: and to be an ho∣nour

and dignitie to their estate. As we do read in Fables, of some, which hauīg continued for a certaine time in the state of meane seruauntes, because their lig∣nage & Stocke was not knowen, but af¦ter that they were knowen, and found to be the Sōnes either of Gods, or of Kin∣ges, did yet stil beare a zealous goodwil towardes the Sheepeheardes, whom many yeares they tooke to be their own fathers. Which thing surelye is muche * 1.113 more to be done towardes our true and well knowen fathers. For then speci∣allye is the fruict of all witte, Vertue, & excellencie taken, when it is bestowed on him, that is neerest to vs alied.

Euen as they therefore which in the familiaritye of entier Frendshippe, bee superiours & higher in degree, ought to * 1.114 abase & make themselues equal w^t their inferiors: so ought not inferiors to be gre¦ued, if their frends either in wit, state, or dignity, do excell and go beyond them.

Of which sort, many either are why∣ninge for somewhat, or els doe twighte & vpbrayde their Benefites, namelye, if they thincke they haue ought, that they

may say, they haue done for their freen∣des, curteously, freendly, and with some paynes and crauayle.

These vpbrayders of pleasures, are surelye an odious kinde of people: whi∣ch * 1.115 pleasures, he ought to remember, on whō they were bestowed; not hee that did bestowe them.

Wherfore as they which bee Supe∣rioures and of higher calling, ought in * 1.116 Freendshippe to abase themselues: So after a force should Inferiours aduaūce and put foorth themselues. For there be some, which make Frendeshyp vnplea∣saunt & yrkesome, when as they thinck themselues to be cōtemned; & not cared for. Which thinge happneth almoste to none, but to suche, as thinck themselues worthy to be contemned: whiche muste not only by words, but also by deedes, be reclaymed from that opinion.

And first, a man must doe asmuche for his frend as he is possibly able: & next, as∣much as y^t party whō he loueth & would further, is able to discharge. For a man * 1.117 cannot bring al his frends (though he be neuer in such high authoritie himselfe)

to honorable aduauncemente: as Scipio was able to make Rutilius Consul: but his brother Lucius hee could not. Yea * 1.118 admit, y^t you could prefer your freend to what you lust: yet must ther be a respect had, how he is able to discharge y^e pla∣ce of his preferment.

Wee must also thinke, y^t Frendshyp can not be, but in wittes & Ages, throughly stayed & fully growen. Neyther stādeth * 1.119 it vppon anye point of necessitie, y^t they which in their boyes age, phāsied others for some common delighte whiche they had together in Huntinge, and Tenis playe: should still take them as their ve¦rye * 1.120 deare Freendes, whom they then loued and fauoured, because they tooke pleasure in the same delightes, that thei themselues did. For so should Nur∣ses, and ouerseers of Chyldren, by rea∣son * 1.121 of olde acquaintaunce, chalenge ve∣rye much: who (in deede) muste not bee neglecttd, or sleightly passed vppon, but yet are after an other sorte to bee loued and regarded. For otherwise Freende∣shippe cannot long continue stedfast.

For vnlyke manners pursue vnlyke

delightes: the dissimilitude whereof dis∣seuereth Frendshippes. Neyther is it for any other cause, that goodmen cānot bee freendes, with the naughty and wic∣ked, * 1.122 then for that, there is such greate oddes, and difference in maners, & affec∣tions, betwene them, as possibly can bee.

It may also be geeuen for a good les∣son in Frendship, that no man through * 1.123 a certaine intemperate and fonde good∣wil, do binder (as many times it happe∣neth) the great profices, that mighte re∣dound to his freend. For (to come again to Fables) Neoptolemus should neuer haue wonne Troye, if hee wauld haue bene ruled by Lycomedes (with whō he was brought vp, going about with ma∣nye * 1.124 teares, to disswade and hinder him from that iourney.

And manye times there happen su∣ch greate occasions of waightye affai∣res, that Frendes must needes departe one from an other: the which, hee that would goe about to hinder, because (for∣sooth) he can not wel forbeare his com∣panye, is both a weakelinge & a Cocke∣ney natured person: and consequentlye

in Freendshippe is vniuste and vnrease∣nable. And in al things, good considera∣tion must be had, both what thou doest * 1.125 request of thy freend, and what thou suf∣frest to bee obteyned at thy handes.

There is also somtimes (as it were) a certain calamity or mishap in the depar¦ture from frendes, euen necessary: for nowe I turne my speache from the fa∣mlliarities, that is among Wisemen, to the Frendshippe, that is among the vul∣gare * 1.126 sorte of people. The faultes com∣mitted by frendes doe many times burst out, partely vpon the freendes themsel∣ues, and partly vpon straungers: but y^• infamie & discredite redoundeth to their Freendes.

Such Frendshippes ther fore must be salued by lesse vsinge theire company, and (as I haue hearde Cato say) muste by little and little be cleanlye shifted of, rather then bluntly and grossely brokē, vnlesse there be so apparant euidence of some such vnsufferable iniurye, that we can neither with honestie, neither cre∣dite, * 1.127 neyther any way possible, other••••se choose, but presently to make an aliena∣tion

and disseueraunce.

But if there bee a certaine chaunge in them of manners and disposition (as commonly hapneth) or if there chaunce any farring or variaunce in some pointe touching y^e Cōmon wealth (for I speake * 1.128 now (as I said a litle before) not of wise¦mens▪ Frēdships, but of vulgar a••ities) we must beware, least Frendship seeme not onely to be layde asyde, but Enemi∣tie and mallice rather to be taken vp.

For there is not a more dishonest thing, then to be at warre with him, with whō * 1.129 afore time thou hast lyued familiarlie.

Scipio, for my sake (as ye know) vntwi∣ned himselfe from the Freendeshippe of Q. Pompeius: and by reason of the Dissention that was in the Common Wealth, was cleane aliened from our Fellowe in office Metellus. Hee did both these, discretely by authoritie, with¦out * 1.130 any bitternesse or offence of mynde, to eyther partye.

Wherfore we must take no smal beede firste that no dissention nor fallinge oute amonge. Freendes doe happen: but if any such thing do happen, that Freend∣shyppe

maye seeme rather by little and little to goe out and quenche of itselfe, then sodeinly and rashely to bee choaked and put out.

Wee must also beware, that Frend¦shippe turne not into greate hatred: out of which, chydinges, raylinges, and reproachfull tearmes are engendred: which (notwithstanding) if they bee any thynge tolerable, must be borne withal. And this honor is to be attributed to old Frendshippe, that the fault is alway in him that doth, not in him that suffereth wrong.

Now, of all these vices and discom∣modities, * 1.131 there is one caueat or Prouiso to bee considered: whiche is, that wee neither beginne to loue too soone, ne yet, the vnworthye. For they bee worthye * 1.132 of Frendshippe, in whom, there is good cause why they should be loued.

It is a rare thing (for surely al excellent things are rare) & theris nothīg harder, then to finde a thing which in euery re∣spect in his kinde is throughlye perfect. * 1.133 But many ther be, which neither know any thīg, y^t is good in this world, sauing

that which is gainfull: and (lyke Bea∣stes) * 1.134 they loue those Freendes most, of whom they hope to receiue most profite.

And therefore they doe lacke y^t most goodly & most natural Frēdship, which is of itselfe, & for itselfe to bee desired & sought: neyther do they showe in them∣selues any example, howe greate and of what sort, the force of this Frendship is.

For euerye man loueth himselfe, not to thende to exact any rewarde of hym∣selfe, for his tender loue towardes hym∣selfe, but because euery man is beare vn∣to himselfe. Which thinge if it bee not semblably vsed in Frendshippe, there cā neuer be found any true freend.

For he is a freend, which is (as it were * 1.135 an other himselfe.

Nowe, if these thinges appeare so e∣uident in Beastes, Birdes, Cattall, Fyshes, Swyne, and other Creatures, both tame and wilde, that they haue a loue to their owne selues (for this is na∣turallye engraffed in all lyuinge Crea∣tures) and also that they desire & luste after some other of the same kind wher∣of they themselues be, to company with∣all,

and that with a certaine longing de∣sire, and likenesse of humane loue: how muche more is the same apparaunt in Man, by nature? who both tenderlye lo∣ueth himselfe, and getteth an other to whom hee may so francklye impart his mynde, as thoughe of two, hee woulde make (in a maner) but one.

But most men peeuishlye (I will not * 1.136 say impudētly) would haue such frēdes as they them selues cannot bee: & such things do they looke for to haue at their freendes handes, as they themselues do not yelde and geeue vnto them. But it is fitte, that he himselfe should first be a * 1.137 good man: and then afterwards to seeke for another, like himselfe.

In such maner of persons, maye that Stability of Frendship (which ere while wee reasoned vpon) be confirmed, when as men ioyned together with goodwil, shall first rule and maister those sensuall lustes and affections, whereunto others do serue and obaye: and when they shall delighte in Iustice and equitie: and the one to vndertake and attempt al things for the other: & neuer the one to request

any thinge of the other, but that which * 1.138 shalbe honest and right: & shall not one∣lye louinglye agree together, and loue one an other, but also as it were reuerēt lye feare & stand in awe one of an other.

For, hee that taketh awaye reuerent awe from Frendship, taketh awaye the * 1.139 greatest Ornament that is in it. They therfore nozzle thēselues w^t a very per∣nicious error, which thinke y^t in Frend∣shippe, the gate is set wide open freelye to pursue all licentious lusts and lewde¦nesse. For Freendshippe is geeuen * 1.140 by Nature to bee an ayde to Vertue, and not a Compagnion to vices: y^t sith, Vertue being solitarye, & alone, could not reache to those thinges which are moste excellente, yet beinge combined and cowpled with an other, she mighte attaigne thereto: which felowshippe if eyther it bee or hath beene, or hereafter shall happē to bee betweene any, (I say) their felowship & cōpany is to be accoū∣ted (for the attainmēt of Natures chiefe goodnes) the best and happiest y^t can be. * 1.141 This very felowship (I say) is it, wherin are all those things, which men doe ac∣count worthy to be desired, as Honesty, Glory, Trāquillity of mynd, & pleasant∣nesse:

so that where these bee, there is the lyfe happye: and without these, it * 1.142 cannot bee happy. Which thing being the greatest and the best thing that can be, if wee bee desirous to obteyne, wee must applye our selues to vertue: with∣out the which, we neyther can attaigne to Freendshippe, ne any thing else y^t is to be desired. For who soeuer (despising Vertue, do think thēselues to haue fren∣des, do then perceiue their owne errour, when any waighty plunge of necessitye * 1.143 driueth thē to try thē. And therfore (for it is a thing often to be repeated) a man oughte to loue, when hee hath iudged: & not to iudge, when hee hath loued. But wheras we be in many things much pu∣nished for negligence, yet namely & spe∣cially in chosing & regarding our freen∣des. For we go preposterously to worke, & (contrary to y^e aduise of y^e old prouerbe) we ouerthwartly doe & vndoe, & labour against the grain. For being enwrapped too & fro w^t busines, either through som long familiarity & acquaintaunce or els through some kindenesse & curtesies, we sodēly in y^e middest of our course breake of our Frendship, when anye small of∣fence ariseth.

And therefore such carelesse negli∣gence of a thing so principally necessary is the more to be dispraysed. For Frēd∣ship * 1.144 is the onely thing in this world, of whose profitablenesse all men with one mouth do agree: albeit Vertue itselfe is of many men set at naught, and is said to be nothing ells, but a bragguery and * 1.145 ostentation.

Manye which holde themselues con∣tented with a litle, and delight in slender fare and homely Apparel, doe vtterlye despise Rychesse. And as for Promoti∣ons, * 1.146 (with ambitious desire whereof some are greatly enflamed) how manye * 1.147 mē be there, which do so much contemne them, that they thincke there is nothing vainer nor lighter? Likewise, other thin∣ges which some doe euen wonder at, and bee in loue withall, there be very many which esteme euen as nothing.

But of Frendshippe al men general∣lye haue one minde and opinion, aswell * 1.148 those which are called to haue dealings in the cōmon wealth, as those that haue their whole delight in learning & know¦ledge of thinges: and those also whiche

quietlye tende their owne busines. And finally euē they which haue wholly ge∣uen themselues ouer to Sensuality, do thincke that without Frendshippe, lyfe is no lyfe: at leaste wyse if they meane any whyt orderlye to lyue.

For Frendship spreadeth (I wot not how) through the lyfe of al sortes of mē: * 1.149 neyther doth it suffer this lyfe in anye parte to be passed without it.

Furthermore if there bee any of that churlish and sauage nature, to eschue & hate the companie and Frendshipp of al men, (of which stampe and sorte we ha∣ue heard say, that there was one Tymō (I know not who) at Athens: yet can∣not * 1.150 he choose, but seeke out one, to whō hee maye vomite out the poyson of his ranckred mallice.

And this would especially be iudged, if any such thing mighte happen, y^t God should take vs out frō this companying with men, and should place vs elswhere in some wildernesse: and there geeuinge vnto vs abundaunce and store of al thin∣ges whiche nature desireth, should alto∣gether take awaye & wholy debarre vs

from so much as the seeing of any man: * 1.151 who could be so stonye harted to abyde y^• kinde of lyfe? or from whom would not that same solitarinesse take awaye the fruict of al pleasures?

True therefore is that sayinge which I haue hearde our Oldmen tell, (and they * 1.152 of other Oldemen afore them) was wont to be spoken by Architas (I trow * 1.153 of Tarento: If a man should climbe vp into Heauen, and take a full view of the nature of the worlde, and the beautiful∣nesse of the starres: the admiration ther¦of, would be vnto him vnpleasaunt, whi∣che woulde otherwise haue beene mo•••• pleasaunt, if hee had any to whom he•• might make thereof relation.

Thus, Nature loueth no solytarines, and alwaies leaueth vnto some thing a•• * 1.154 vnto a stayes which in euerye freendli•••• person is most delightfull.

But although the same Nature d•••• by so many signes declare what she m••••∣neth, and seeketh: what she coueteth and desireth: yet do wee (I knowe not how waxe deafe, and geeue no care to thos••

thinges, wherof wee are by her warned.

For the vse of Freendship is sundrye and manifolde, and manye occasions of suspicion and offences be geeuen, which partlye to eschewe, partely to extenu∣ate, and partely to heare, is a Wisemās parte. And this one offence is to bee re∣dressed, that both profitablenesse and al∣so faythfulnesse in Frendshyppe, may be * 1.155 still retayned. For freendes must often times bee both admonished and chidden also. And this is to bee freendly taken, when it is done freendlye and of good∣will.

But this is true (I cannot tel how) * 1.156 which my verye Familier freende Te∣rence set down in his Comedie, entitu∣led Andria, that Soothing getteth Frē∣des, but truth purchaseth Hatred.

Truth is gallinge and greuous, for oute of it proceedeth Hatred, which is vnto Frendshippe a rancke poyson: but Soo∣thinge * 1.157 or Flattery is a great deale more gallinge, which by wincking at his frē∣des faultes, suffereth him styll to runne on headlonge in his wilfulnes.

But the greatest blame is in him, who despiseth y^e Truth, and is caried by soo∣thing into such incōuenience & naughty∣nesse. Heerein therfore we must bestow all care and diligence: first, that our ad∣monishing be without bitternesse, & our chyding without spitefulnes.

But in soothinge (because I delight to vse Terence his worde) let there be * 1.158 a curteous gentilnesse vsed withall, and let al flattery (the egger on of vices) bee set aparte, which (in deede) is vnmeett not onely for a freende, but also for anye honest man.

For after one sorte do men lyue wyth a Tyraunt, and after an other sorte wyth * 1.159 a freend. But his recouery is to be des∣payred of, whose eares frō the hearing•• of truthe bee shutte, that hee cannot abyde to heare that is true, at his fren∣des handes. For right wise is that same sayinge of Cato: that sharpe nippinge * 1.160 Enemies do more good vnto some, then those freendes, which do seeme fawning Clawbackes. For they sometime, but these neuer tel the truthe.

And this is a very absurde matter, y^t

they which be admonished, finde not thē∣selues aggreeued at y^t, which they ought but at that which they ought not. They * 1.161 be not sory y^t they haue done amisse, but they take it vnkindly to be chiddē, wher as cōtrarywise, they ought to be sory for their faults, & glad of their chidinge.

Therfore as to warne our freend and to bee warned againe by him is the pro∣pertie of true Frendshippe: and the one to doe it freely, not roughly, thother to * 1.162 take it patiently and not frowatdlye: so must we make this reckening, that there is no greater Plague or mischiefe in Frendship, then adulation, glauering, and flattrye. Albe it this vice must be for * 1.163 many respectes noted to be the faulte of lewde and craftie persons, speaking all to pleasure, and nothing to Truth.

But wheras Dissimulation in all thinges is euill (for it taketh awaye the righte iudgement of truthe and corrup∣teth it) yet namely to Frendshippe it is most repugnaunt. For it raseth out the truth, without which, y^e name of Frēd∣shippe * 1.164 cannot continue. For sithens the force of Frendshippe standeth vpon this

point, that there shoulde bee made as •••• were one mynde of many: how can tha•• be brought to passe, if in one man there bee not one, and alwayes alike mind, but diuers; chaungeable, and wa••t∣ringe? First what thinge can there be so mutable & so wādering out of course as is the mynd of y^t man, which swaieth not only at euery mans phansie and wi•••• but also at euery mans becke and looke? Say who naye? Nay, saye I▪ Say•• who yea? Yea, say I. Finally I haue enioyned my selfe, to holde vp all mens sayinges with Yea and Nay, as sayeth * 1.165 the same Terence▪ but hee speaketh those woordes in the person of Gnato: * 1.166 which to vse in the person of a Freend, were too too much lightnesse.

But forsomuch as there bee manye Gnatolike persons, in estate, wealth, & credite, aboue others: their Flatte∣rye * 1.167 is odious and yrckesome, when as authority ioygneth with vanity.

Now, a flatteringe Clawbacke (if good heede and diligence be taken) may euen aswell be discerned, and knowen, from a true freend, as all counterfei••••••

and feigned stuffe may from things sin∣cere and right. The assembly of the Commons, which standeth most of vn∣skilfull and ignoraunt persons, is wone yet to iudge, what oddes and difference there is betweene a people pleaser (that is to say a curryfauour, & lyght person) and betwene a constant, seuere & graue Citizen. With which kinde of Flatte∣ring, C. Papyrius y^e Consul, of late stuf∣fed the peoples eares, at what time hee * 1.168 made a law, for the restoring of the Ple∣beian Tribunes. We disswaded y^t mat∣ter. But I wil not speake of my selfe: I wil with better will, speake of Scipio. What pythines (good Lord) was there in his talke, what a maiesty was there in his Oration? y^t a man might wel haue * 1.169 sayd, he had bene the leader & chieftain of the people of Rome, & not a fellow cō∣paignion & comoner with thē. But you were present there your selues, and his Oration, is extant & abroade to be had. Therfore y^e same populer Law was by y^e peoples own voices disanulled & dashed.

And to returne againe to my selfe: you remēber whē Q. Maxim{us} y^e brother

of Scipio, and L. Mancinus were Con∣suls, how populer and people pleasing y^e lawe of C. Licinius Crassus touchinge Priestes dignities, seemed to bee. For y^t election & supplie of Sacerdotall row∣mes, was conueighed ouer to the dispo∣sition of the common people: & hee was y^e first of al others, that brought into the place of Pleas, an order, to make any O∣ratiō to the people in verse. But yet the Religion of the immortall Gods (I de∣fending the matter) easely defeated that smothing Oration of his, so painted out to the sale. And this was done, whē I was Praetor, fiue yeares before I was made Consul. Therfore that cause was defended rather by y^e goodnes of y^t mat∣ter * 1.170 itselfe, then by the authoritie of the Pleader that had it in hand.

Now if in Stage matters, that is to saye, in Populer Audience, wherein feigned & shadowed thinges be often in∣troduced, yet the Truthe preuayleth & beareth away the Bel, if so it be opened and set out accordingly: what ought to be done in Frendshippe, which is consi∣dered and waighed altogether by truth?

wherein, except a man do throughly (as they say) see into the very bottome of his freendes hart, & likewise shew his own: bee cannot stand vpon any sure ground, for trust and tryall: nay, hee can neuer loue, nor be loued: sithens hee knoweth * 1.171 not how it is done trulye.

Although this flattery be pernicious and hurtfull, yet can it hurt no man but him, that listeneth to it, and is delighted with it. And so it commeth to passe that he most openeth his eares to flatterers, who selfely flattereth himselfe, & moste delighteth in himselfe.

Vertue (surely) loueth herselfe. For shee best knoweth herselfe, and percei∣ueth * 1.172 how amiable shee is.

But I nowe speake, not of Vertue, * 1.173 but of the opinion, had of Vertue. For, not so many are willing to be vertuous, as doe desire to seeme vertuous. These kinde of persons doth flatterye delight: They, when anye glosed speache is vsed to feede their humour, do streightwais * 1.174 thincke, that the same vayne woordes be a testimonye of their prayses.

This therfore is no Frendship, when

as the one wil not heare the Truth, and the other is ready to lye: neither would the glauering flattery of these Parasits and Trencher Freendes in Comedies, be any whyt pleasaunt or mery, if there were not some glorious Souldiers.

What Syrrha, did Thais geeue mee great thanckes? It had beene sufficient * 1.175 for thother to haue aunswered, Yea syr, * 1.176 great: but hee sayd: Yea syr, very ex∣ceeding great.

Flattery alwayes encreaseth, and set∣teth out to the most, that thinge, which * 1.177 the partye (for whose tooth it was spo∣ken) would haue to be great.

Wherfore although this fawning va¦nitye bee most in vre and practise, wyth them whych do to thē allure & inuite it: yet are the Sager and constanter sort of mē to be admonished to take heede, that they bee not ensnared & mashed w^t this kinde of fly flattery. For euery man can perceiue an opē Flatterer, except he be a very Sotte, or Ideot: but we must very carefullye take heede, that this crafty & fly Flatterer do not winde or close hym∣selfe within vs. For hee is not easelye

espied: by reason y^t euen by contrarying one, he many times flattereth: & feig∣ning himselfe to brawle and chyde, doth glauer: & in the ende yeldeth & suffereth himselfe to be vanquished, y^t he which is flouted to his teeth, maye seeme to haue gottē y^e victory. And what be astlier thīg cā there be thē y^t? Which thing, y^t it may not happē, we must take the more heede: as in y^e Enterlude, entituled Fpicurae{us}: Today before almy old foolish Copesmates you haue coursed and flouted me very my∣ntōly. For in plaies, y^e persōs of old vnfor∣castful & credulous mē, are most foolish.

But my talke (I cannot tell how) is digressed from speaking of the Frende∣shippes of perfect men, that is to say, of Wysemen (I doe meane of such Wise∣dome as doeth seeme maye bee in man) vnto slyghte and tryfelinge Freende∣shippes. Wherefore let vs returne to that whiche wee spake of, and let vs cō∣clude at length vpon it.

I say (O C. Fannius, & you Q. Mutius) * 1.178 y^t Vertue both getteth, and also kepeth Frendship. In it, is al agreement of thin¦ges, al stability, al constancy. Who, whē

shee hath aduaunced herselfe & shewed out her light, & espied & knowē the same in an other, leaneth herselfe to that also, and taketh likewise that which is in an other. Whereupon breedeth betweene ech other, an exceeding loue and Frend∣shippe. * 1.179 For both these two wordes haue their names of this word, To Loue.

Now, to loue, is nothinge els, but to beare a goodwill vnto him, whom you * 1.180 do hartelye fauour, not for any neede or any profite that is sought. Which profit (notw^tstanding) springeth out of Frend¦ship, althoughe you haue not pursued it accordingly. With this kinde of good∣will, we (when wee were young Strip∣linges) loued those worthy Oldmen. L. Paulus, M. Cato, C. Gallus, P. Nasica, & Tib. Gracchus, father in lawe to oure deare freend Scipio. This Frendshippe also more euidently appeareth, amonge Equalles and persons of lyke age, as be¦tweene mee & Scipio, L. Furius, P. Ru∣tilius, & Sp. Mummius.

Semblablye also, wee Oldmen take great pleasure in y^e louingnesse of yoūg men: as for example, I for my part, am

singulerly delighted in the familiaritye of you, and of Q. Tubero a very young Striplinge, and of P. Rutilius Virgi∣nius.

For seeinge that the order of our lyfe and nature is so appointed, that one age must succeede after an other: it is verie * 1.181 greatly to be wished, that wee may liue with such, as be our Equalles in age: y^t as wee came together into the worlde, much aboute one time: so also (as they say) wee might keepe together, tyl wee packe againe out of the world.

But because the state of the worlde is fickle and fading, wee must alwayes fynde oute some, whom wee maye both loue, and also bee of them loued againe. For once take away Loue, and goodwil: and all pleasauntnesse of lyfe is quighte taken away.

As for Scipio, although hee was ta∣ken away sodeinly from among vs, yet * 1.182 (surely) to mee hee is still aliue, and al∣wayes shalbee. For I euer loued the Vertue, of that man, which is not ex∣tinct: neyther is the same playne & ap∣paraunt before mine eyes onely, who al

alwayes hadde the dayly feelinge of it, but also vnto all oure posterity, shall it bee noble and notable.

No man shall euer enterprise anye worthye attemptes, eyther in courage or hope, which deemeth not the memory or image of this noble personage, wor∣thye to be set before him for a Paterne. * 1.183 I truly among al the thinges y^t Fortune or Nature hath bestowed vpon me, ha∣ue nothing comparable vnto Scipio his Frendeshippe. In it was a freendlye a∣greement betweene vs, concerninge the Common wealth: in it, was our confe∣rence for our priuate affayres: in it, was * 1.184 my rest, full of delectation. I neuer of∣fended him (not in the least matter that could be) that euer I could perceiue. I neuer heard anye thinge of him y^t euer went against my minde. One house ser∣ued vs both, one fare and that euen com∣mon: Yea, not onely warfare, but also our trauayles, voyages, & soiourninges abrode, were alike common.

For what shoulde I speake of our ioynet studies, in alwayes siftinge out & learninge of somethinge: in the which,

when wee were out of the peoples sight wee bestowed all our leysure and time? The recordation and memory of whych thinges, if they had dyed together with him, I could neuer possiblye haue borne the lacke of such a freendly and louinge mā. But yet these are not extinct. Nay, they are rather nourished & encreased by the cogitation and remēbraunce of thē.

And although I shoulde vtterly bee bereft therof, yet very Age it self would bring vnto mee singuler comfort. For I could not very long continue in this lā∣guishinge case. But all shorte thinges ought to be sufferable, although they be greate.

Thus much hadde I to saye concer∣ninge Frendshippe. Now, am I to ex∣horte you, to haue Vertue in such price, (without which Frendship cannot bee) that (it onely except) you deeme no∣thinge more excellent, then Freendshippe.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Seuen sa∣ges of Greece.
• * 1.2

  Socrates onely ad∣iudged vvise.
• * 1.3

  The true rycheste are the giftes of he minde
• * 1.4

  Constācy.
• * 1.5

  Cato a vviseman
• * 1.6

  Death of freendes greeuous.
• * 1.7

  To be o∣uer sorovv¦ful for the death of them that dye vvell, is to repy∣ne at their vvelfare & better state.
• * 1.8

  When he vvas but 22. yeares of age.
• * 1.9

  Carthage and Nu∣mantia.
• * 1.10

  Oldage.
• * 1.11

  Scipio brought home frō the Senat house ho¦norablye.
• * 1.12

  Immorta¦lity of the soule.
• * 1.13

  Immorta¦lity of the soule.
• * 1.14

  What frendship is.
• * 1.15

  There ha∣ue not ben found a∣boue thre or fovver couples of perfect frends in manye hundred yeres spa∣ce.
• * 1.16

  Frēdship to be este∣med more then all vvorldlye thinges.
• * 1.17

  Frēdship onelye a∣monge good mē.
• * 1.18

  Nature the beste guide to frame our lyues by.
• * 1.19

  Order of Frēdship
• * 1.20

  What frendship is.
• * 1.21

  Frēdshyp the beste thig next vnto vvise¦dome,
• * 1.22

  Frēdshyp cannot be vvhere vertue is not.
• * 1.23

  ••Co••••••¦diti•••• 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Frēd••••••••••••.
• * 1.24

  Frēdship no lesse necessarye then the Elements
• * 1.25

  A true faythfull frend is as mannes ovvnse
• * 1.26

  Withoute Frēdshyp al things goe to ha¦uocke and decaye.
• * 1.27

  Empedo∣cles affir∣med that the vvor∣lde and al thinges consisted of Frende¦ship.
• * 1.28

  Pylades & Orestes.
• * 1.29

  vvherefore Freendes be sought for.
• * 1.30

  Loue.
• * 1.31

  Frēdshyp natural.
• * 1.32

  Vertue.
• * 1.33

  Pyrrhus. Hannibal
• * 1.34

  Loue con∣firmed by Benefites
• * 1.35

  Base peda grevv of Frēdship
• * 1.36

  Scipio & Laelius, ij perfecte frendes.
• * 1.37

  Good tur¦nes & ple¦sures laid out to vsu¦rye.
• * 1.38

  Frēdshyp must not be desired for profit.
• * 1.39

  Nature cā¦not bee chaunged ne yet Frendship
• * 1.40

  Conti∣nuance of Frēdship.
• * 1.41

  Children in Freend¦shipp and lo••e nevv fangled.
• * 1.42

  Coue∣tousnes a great pla∣gue to Frēdship.
• * 1.43

  Hovv far the boūds of frende¦shyp stret¦che.
• * 1.44

  Cōmotiō of Corio∣lanus.
• * 1.45

  A manne must not for his fre¦des sake do anye thing that is eyther vnlavvful or vnho¦nest.
• * 1.46

  Capitol.
• * 1.47

  Blosius desperate aunsvver
• * 1.48

  Such a•• vnexcusa¦ble as do attempte any thing vnlavvful to pleasu¦re their frendes.
• * 1.49

  Reques•••••• of frend•• to frend.
• * 1.50

  As greate an offēce to graunt an vnlavv full sute, as to re¦queste it.
• * 1.51

  An vnho¦nest re∣quest must be denied
• * 1.52

  There is not suche iuste dea∣linges a∣mong mē novv a dayes as was in the olde tim••
• * 1.53

  By these tvvo lavv¦es made by Gabi¦mus and Cassius, the goods of certein good Ci¦tizens vvere vvholy forfeited & procla¦mation made that they thē selues vvhere e¦uer they vver foūd mighte lavvfully be slaine and a re¦vvard a pointed for the slei¦ar.
• * 1.54

  If our frē¦des con¦spyre a¦gainst the cōmon vvealthe vve ought to forsake them.
• * 1.55

  We oug∣hte not to seeke the spoyle of oure countrye, for anye iniury to vs done.
• * 1.56

  Coriola¦nus.
• * 1.57

  A noble and moste worthye care.
• * 1.58

  Lavvfull requestes, & graunts of frends, one to an other.
• * 1.59

  Frendes maye not flatter but freelye & boldlye aduertise & counsel one an o∣ther.
• * 1.60

  Epicures.
• * 1.61

  Frēdship is as the shininge Sun in the vvorlde.
• * 1.62

  We muste euer bee doinge of good.
• * 1.63

  Propertie of a vvell staid mind
• * 1.64

  A man void of al affectiōs is like a logg or a stone.
• * 1.65

  A prepos∣terous & absurde delight.
• * 1.66

  Enter∣chaunge∣able re∣quitall of curtesies.
• * 1.67

  Likenes of man∣ners and delights causethe Frēdship.
• * 1.68

  Nature
• * 1.69

  One ver∣tuous mā loueth an other.
• * 1.70

  Vertue disdaig∣neth no man.
• * 1.71

  Good∣vvill of a Freende, is more to be respec¦ted, then the gaine that may be gotten by him.
• * 1.72

  A frend is best kno¦vven in time of ne¦cessity.
• * 1.73

  True frēd¦ship sekes not after gaine.
• * 1.74

  Al vvorld¦ly treasu∣re vvith∣out a frēd is to no purpose
• * 1.75

  A Tyraūts lyfe.
• * 1.76

  We cānot loue them of vvhom vve stand in feare,
• * 1.77

  Aduersi∣tie tryeth Freends.
• * 1.78

  Riches blindeth men.
• * 1.79

  Fortune.
• * 1.80

  Frendes the beste treasure.
• * 1.81

  Bounds of Frend¦ship. Three o¦pinions of Frend¦shippe.
• * 1.82

  1
• * 1.83

  2
• * 1.84

  3
• * 1.85

  We cānot do to mut¦ch in frēd¦shyp.
• * 1.86

  Comfort & chee∣ring of Frendes.
• * 1.87

  A saying repugnāt to frend∣shyp.
• * 1.88

  Among honeste frendes al thinges should be cōmō.
• * 1.89

  Novv and then vvee must not sticke to step a lit¦tle aside to saue our fren¦des life or credite.
• * 1.90

  Good¦vvil of the peo¦ple.
• * 1.91

  Tryal of Frendes.
• * 1.92

  Money.
• * 1.93

  Money novv a dayes more set by thē Frēdship.
• * 1.94

  True frēd¦ship hard to befoūd amonge great mē.
• * 1.95

  Men are loath to take parte vvith the¦ir freende in trouble
• * 1.96

  A faith∣ful frende in vveale and vvoe.
• * 1.97

  Choise of a frende
• * 1.98

  A rūning head.
• * 1.99

  A frend must ney∣ther be a tale bea∣rer nor a tale cre¦direr.
• * 1.100

  Good mē
• * 1.101

  Dissimu∣lation.
• * 1.102

  An open enemie better thē a dissem∣blinge frende.
• * 1.103

  Suspicion
• * 1.104

  Pleasaunt talke. Curteous maners.
• * 1.105

  Sullēnes.
• * 1.106

  Whether nevv or olde fren∣des be bet¦ter.
• * 1.107

  Prouerbe
• * 1.108

  Nevv ac∣quaintan∣ce. Old Fami¦liaritye.
• * 1.109

  Custome.
• * 1.110

  A chiefe point in frēdshipp
• * 1.111

  Reuerēce to our el∣der.
• * 1.112

  A nota∣ble lesson
• * 1.113

  Loue to∣vvards pa¦rentes.
• * 1.114

  Inferiors, muste not repine at their supe¦riors.
• * 1.115

  Vpbray¦ding of pleasures.
• * 1.116

  We ought to remem¦ber a good tur∣ne.
• * 1.117

  A man cā∣not ad∣uaunce al his frēds,
• * 1.118

  Respect in prefer∣ment of freendes.
• * 1.119

  Frēdshyp to be iud∣ged at ful grovven age.
• * 1.120

  Playfel∣lovves & compaig∣nions in youth.
• * 1.121

  Nurses. Tutors.
• * 1.122

  Vnlike maners dissolueth Frēdship
• * 1.123

  Wee must not be too fond ouer our frends againste their pro¦fite.
• * 1.124

  Fond lo∣ue 〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.125

  Requests must bee vvarely vvaighed.
• * 1.126

  Vulgare Frēdshyp
• * 1.127

  Hovv and vvhē vve must geue a frend o¦uer.
• * 1.128

  Warines to be vsed.
• * 1.129

  A disho¦nest part.
• * 1.130

  Hovv clenly Scipio shifted himselfe from the Frend¦ship of ij. that had bene hys freends.
• * 1.131

  A good caueat to be re¦membred.
• * 1.132

  Who bee vvorthy to be lo∣ued.
• * 1.133

  All excel¦lent thin∣ges are ra¦re.
• * 1.134

  The com¦mō guise of the vvorlde novv a dayes.
• * 1.135

  Who is a frende.
• * 1.136

  A peruers reckening
• * 1.137

  A freende must bee a good man
• * 1.138

  No vn∣lavvfull request must bee made to our frends
• * 1.139

  Reuerent avve or modest bashful∣nes in frēd¦shyppe.
• * 1.140

  Frēdshyp an aide to vertue.
• * 1.141

  The right felovv¦ship.
• * 1.142

  Happy ly¦fe.
• * 1.143

  A vvyse & sententi∣ous coūsel
• * 1.144

  Al men generally agree that Frēdshyp is moste profitable
• * 1.145

  Vertue de¦spised.
• * 1.146

  Ryches.
• * 1.147

  Promo∣tion.
• * 1.148

  Frēdship, generally praysed
• * 1.149

  Euery se∣uerall mannes lyfe requi¦reth frend¦ship.
• * 1.150

  Tymon a hater of al companie.
• * 1.151

  All plea∣sure and plentye vvithout companie vnpleasāt
• * 1.152

  Solttari∣nes.
• * 1.153

  Architas Tarentin{us}
• * 1.154

  Nature lo¦ueth no solitari∣nes.
• * 1.155

  Wee must frendlye admonish and chide our frend.
• * 1.156

  Flattrye getteth frendes
• * 1.157

  Truth.
• * 1.158

  Flattrye is to bee eschued.
• * 1.159

  Truth must bee heard.
• * 1.160

  A vvise saying of Cato.
• * 1.161

  An absur de recke¦ning
• * 1.162

  Propertie of true Frèdshyp
• * 1.163

  Flatterye the grea∣test plage in Frende¦shyp.
• * 1.164

  Dissimu∣lation.
• * 1.165

  In Eunu∣cho.
• * 1.166

  Gnato.
• * 1.167

  Hurtfull flatterye.
• * 1.168

  Papyrius.
• * 1.169

  Pithy O∣ration of Scipio.
• * 1.170

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.171

  They most ••oue flattry, vvhich be flatterers of them∣selues
• * 1.172

  Vertue
• * 1.173

  Manye vvoulde rather see¦me ho∣nest then be honest in deede.
• * 1.174

  Men that set by thē¦selues, are easy to be¦leeue flat∣terers.
• * 1.175

  Thraso.
• * 1.176

  Gnato
• * 1.177

  Flatterye of a litle maketh a great deal
• * 1.178

  Conclusi¦on of this matter. Vertue.
• * 1.179

  Amor & Amicitia, ab Aman do.
• * 1.180

  To loue vvhat it is
• * 1.181

  Lyke de∣lighteth vvith like
• * 1.182

  The fame of a vvor∣thy man neuer dy∣eth
• * 1.183

  A true frend is the surest possession
• * 1.184

  Effects of Frēdships