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§. 9. Tiberius perplexed.
Among all the troubles of that City (that hath been ever the troubler of the world) that befel her this year, when she slew the Prince of quietness and peace, it may not be amiss to look a little upon the disquietness of him himself within himself that caused this disquiet to her, and imbrewed her so oft in her own blood: And this we may do by the Anatomy that Tacitus hath read upon his intrals, spying the thoughts of his heart, through the words of a letter, that he wrote in behalf of Cotta Messalinus an old favorite of his, the letter bearing the date of this year, as appeareth by the same Tacitus, and the words this tenour, as is attested both by him and Suetonius. Quid scribam vobis P. C. aut* 1.1 quomodo scribam, aut quid omnino non scribam hoc tempore, Dii me, Deaeque pejus perdant, quem perire quotidie sentio, si scio. What I shall write to you O fathers conscript, or how I shall write, or what I shall not write at all at this time, the gods and goddesses confound me worse than I feel my self to perish daily, if I can tell. Whereupon Suetonius saith, that being wea∣ry of himself, he almost confesseth the sum of his miseries: But my other author thus largely. Thus did even his villanies and flagitiousness turn to punishment to himself. Nor was it in vain that the wisest of men was wont to affirm, that if the minds of Tyrants were but opened, tor∣tures and stripes might be spied there: seeing that the mind is butchered with cruelty, lust and evil projects, as the body is with blows. For, not solitariness, not fortune, could protect Ti∣berius, but that he confesseth the torments of his breast, and his own punishment.